After having grabbed a shotgun, the chief ran to the only other exit the building had, to find an office gasping for breath and a number of earthen pillars preventing any goblins from entering.

“S-sir…” he panted, “I’ve…stopped all—”

In a panic, the chief raised the shotgun and opened fire upon his subordinate. The blast punched a hole through the mage’s face, killing him instantly.

Taking a few moments to calm down, the chief assured himself that the pillars hadn’t been there before, and he saved himself from a monster other than a goblin. Duty bound, he hurried back to retrieve more equipment for his remaining officers.

---

Six months later.

---

In a rather impressive display of military power, the legions of ‘goblins’ that had appeared from nowhere had been successfully driven out of the larger cities in developed countries worldwide. Northern regions went mostly unscathed by virtue that the freezing cold killed any invaders on the spot; however the Canadian prairies, Maritimes, and much of Africa, to name a few, were utterly ravaged.

Countries that could afford to do so started a draft, hoping to make full use of their arsenal when the next attack came. For the time being, things had become quiet with the exception of minor wandering goblin armies that destroyed small, unprotected towns.

And so, in this time of unsteady peace they, as humans always do, set their sights on those mysterious people who slew numerous monsters without the assistance of technology. Some communities set about searching for these mages in hopes of gaining some sort of divine or mystic edge over the monsters, while a far greater number resurrected the witch hunt.

---

The headmaster of the Ottawa guild leaned back in his chair and examined the damage report. Three citadels had perished in the invasion: the only one in South Africa and two in South America. Much to the relief of all headmasters of the Union, the Sanctuary of Origins – the central citadel – had gone unscathed, as its guarding army outside of Egypt had deployed.

Vox’s angelic appearance had proved beneficial to the headmaster, as hers was one of few known mages that was not thought of as threatening by the non-mages.

Many lives had been lost in the assault, and many more were likely to die before the coming battles by the close-minded and fearful. But this chaos was not without its silver lining.

Families everywhere were in shambles, orphans with no place to go and stragglers with no hope of survival without a beneficiary; all of whom would make ideal recruits to replace the lost manpower.

It had come as an edict from the Sanctuary of Origins that all available hands were to begin recruitment; allowing adults to contribute economically while the young, still approaching their physical apex, were to be trained as the new mages.

---

“He’s one of them!” the teen shouted, waving about his bat. “Come on, don’t let him get away!”

Many yells from children followed as they rallied under their elder’s strength.

Suffice to say, it was not Charles’ day. He had awoken to find rats stealing the last of his food and, when he went to an abandoned convenience store to find some more, he ran into that bunch of kids. Far as he could tell, none of them were orphaned, just bored on this weekend afternoon. They caught a glimpse of him picking some cans off a shelf and shouted happily as they waved pipes, boards, and other blunt instruments while crying ‘mage’.

Of the rocks they threw, a large one caught him in the knee, thus putting him in this serious of a predicament. Too hurt to outrun them, and too outnumbered to fight; especially for a scared seven year old.

The teenager was a clever one, and it didn’t take long for them to route Charles into a large open park and surround him.

“No one let him get away and don’t stop until his head comes off.”

Not even having the knowledge on how to fight, Charles could only stand in the middle and cry as the other kids carefully crept in, not wanting to give him a way out.

“Matris terra, operor meus bidding quod sinus ut meus mos.”

No one could tell where the voice came from but, suddenly, a cylinder of earth rose from grass and surrounded Charles. From the grass at his feet, a shaggy looking man lifted himself up and brushed off his jeans and t-shirt.

“Damn brats, thank God I’m single. Look, don’t make me regret saving you by refusing my generous offer, okay kid?” he sighed, adjusting his baseball cap. “Here’s the deal; you come with me and you get free food, place to sleep, and you can do stuff like this.”

As he tapped the walls he made with a hand, the kid’s crying stopped, but was still on the verge of tears.

“The only catch, is when you’re old enough, you’re going to help us kill goblins. What d’ya say?”

The kid hesitated for a second, so the man began to lower the dirt walls. Panicking, Charles accepted and took the mage by the hand.

“Close yer eyes, kid,” he huffed, performing a chant and dragging the child into the ground after him.

Charles had no idea how long they were underground for, but after feeling the air on his skin once more, he was quickly put on a bus along with many other children.

“This’ll take you to your new home, kid. Stay outta trouble.”

He watched as the mage who rescued him trudged off, and saw another adult trot over and let another boy get aboard.

The nearest empty seat being beside him, Charles nervously said hello and, after some time, was happily engaged in conversation with Donald.

When the bus was full, the driver closed the door and started off towards the Ottawa citadel. The bus turned off a road leading from the city, and began driving down a dirt road conveniently made through a forest. When they hit a clearing, the bus stopped.

Charles, Donald, and the other children stepped from the bus in confusion as the driver led them off. He then ordered everyone to follow.

Everyone was perplexed as the driver suddenly disappeared after taking a few steps. When they made it to where he had disappeared, they were amazed to find what looked like a walled-in university campus, suddenly appear.

The bus driver returned to his vehicle after other mages arrived to direct the children, and drove off the way he came.

Charles and Donald excitedly, though somewhat afraid, listened as they were all given a tour of the citadel, before being brought to a classroom.

“Starting tomorrow, this is where you’ll be given a normal education, along with teachings in magic. For today, just find an empty seat and listen quietly,” the tour guides ordered, ushering the kids into the class.

Charles and Donald sat down in the first pair of empty chairs they could find; ones at the back of the room next to a kid with shaggy black hair and fierce red eyes.

The two introduced themselves and Malik just nodded. It wasn’t until the class had finished that he let them succeed in striking up a conversation.