A/N: Welcome! This story not only features many OCs but occurs in the same alternate universe as MakuhariFan-01's "Ala Alba in the World of Magic" and "Chao Lingshen: Coming Home."

For those of you who haven't read the previous 350,000 or so words, let me explain what's going on. No, there's too much; let me sum up.

Negi's students graduated from the middle school and are in their first year of high school. Their new homeroom teacher is Phillip Markham. Initially unaware of magic, Phillip quickly discovered the secret and found himself embroiled in a battle between Mahora and the Cabal Magicus, a group of mages bent on dominating both old and new worlds.

Besides the Cabal, other groups have been active in both old and new worlds. Fidelis Fraternus is a group of fanatics who seek to keep the Mage of the Beginning from destroying the Mundus Magicus and have tried to trap the Imperial Princess of the Twilight in the Mundus Vertus. The Council of Mages has been rendered nearly impotent by internal dissension as well as the actions of covert agents from the other groups. And demons have been attacking both worlds.

Mahora's headmaster sent Professor Akashi to the Mundus Magicus on a fact finding mission, accompanied by the assassin Hiro Sasuki. Meanwhile, Nagi Springfield has returned to Wales, with long-time friend Eishun, in search of his wife.

This story follows "Markham Chronicles Negima" and "MCN: the Other Side of the Mirror." Reading them along with "Hiro's Lament" will help to avoid some of the WTF moments. I owe a debt to several fanfiction authors whose stories have served as inspiration. Besides MakuhariFan-01, other stories that have provided ideas (meaning I have shamelessly ripped off) include Ambrant Arandel's "Child of Mine", TFKeyes' "The Wonders of Love," ReddyRedWolf's "Love Sara" and Tsutomu Teruko's "Pactum Factum." If you've missed these stories, you missed some of the very best tales in the Negima section.

Ken Akamatsu owns Negima and its characters. Chiho Masuda was a name used by Makuhari-Fan01 for Kaede Nagase's cousin. Other characters are of my invention. I do occasionally borrow OCs from other contributors to this section.

The following conventions are use: "words," 'thoughts,' 'reading' and "spells."

The Gathering Storm

…there was a deep conviction and almost universal hope that peace would reign in the world – Winston Churchill

--

New Ostia, Mundus Magicus

Brightly colored pennons furled and snapped above the Governor-General's Palace as a small transport rose gracefully into the air. Twin emblems of the Alliance and the old Ostian coat of arms identified the craft as the governor's personal airship. Knights in black armor raised their lances in salute at the departing vessel while few of the scurrying officials and servants stopped to watch.

Kurt Gödel gazed out of the window as New Ostia spread out before him. Signs of rebuilding were scattered about the city, evidence of the near disaster that occurred during last year's Peace Festival. With the generous funding provided by the Mesembrian Senate, nearly all of the damage had been repaired. Work plodded on the new Ala Alba Arena, named for the latest heroes to "save" Ostia, but he was assured it would be ready in plenty of time for this year's festival.

Yes, New Ostia was recovering, but Kurt knew the danger was still there. The Mage of the Beginning, a spirit whose power created the Mundus Magicus and was destined to destroy it, had been neutralized for a second time. Few knew how close to annihilation they had come. If not for the valiant efforts of the Thousand Master's son and the boy's companions, the world would have been reduced to ashes. But who would be there to stop it the next time?

That there would be a next time, he was certain. As long as the vessel lived, the Mage of the Beginning could return and carry out her dreadful task. The plan to sever the gates and trap the Imperial Princess in the Old World was flawed; they would merely trade one sure destruction for another. Kurt had wanted to believe in the plan, but the mounting evidence couldn't be ignored any longer. Magnusson was a hothead who had gotten just what the man deserved; however, Arn had been right about what needed to be done. For the sake of the world, this Asuna Kagurazaka had to die.

Speeding over the barren wasteland that had once been a prosperous kingdom, the airship approached the ruins of Old Ostia. Five kilometers out, they were stopped by one of the Mage Council's security teams and questioned. Not wishing to antagonize the Alliance, the team chief swiftly cleared them to continue. "Do you wish an escort Governor Gödel?" the mage had asked.

"Despite my physical condition, that won't be necessary," Kurt answered and then pointed to the sheathed sword his squire held. "That is all the protection I require."

"Understood Governor," the robed man replied. "However, as long as you remain in the area of the old city, you'll have to report in every hour. Failure to do so will cause a rescue team to be sent in after you sir."

"You have the proper frequency to report in?" he asked the pilot who nodded in response. "Is there anything further?"

"Nothing else sir," the mage said as he saluted. "Good luck Governor Gödel."

"Yes, yes," Kurt remarked. "I daresay I could use a bit of luck."

--

With one edge tilted up, the principle island of the former capitol of Vespetatia laid on the rocky ground like a huge, beached whale. "Have you ever seen the old city before?" Kurt asked the young boy at his side.

"Only in pictures sir," his squire answered. "I've never been this close before."

"Once it was a noble place," the governor reminisced. "The Royal Palace was near the center, surrounded by the government offices. There were libraries, theaters, public baths and the coliseum where gladiators fought before cheering crowds. Over a million people called it home."

"And then, in the space of an afternoon, it was gone," he said. "A teaming metropolis became this wasteland you now see."

"It is very sad," the youngster remarked.

Sad didn't even begin to describe it. During the final battle of the Great War, Kurt had been charged with guiding the Mesembrian fleet to the city. From his vantage point on the Flag Ship, Svanhit, the eleven-year old boy watched as the combined navies of the Alliance and Hellas Empire desperately struggled to contain the orb of power that would have consumed their world. They succeeded somehow, but at a terrible cost. Every island within a 25 kilometer radius crashed to the ground as the magic that kept them aloft was inexplicably drained.

It was as Master Anankaios had predicted. They would save the world by letting an entire city, nay kingdom, perish. All because Nagi Springfield had refused the expedient solution of slaying one little girl; and the others supported his foolishness. Even Kurt's own teacher agreed with the idiot who couldn't bother to learn more than a handful of spells. What sort of enchantment had that evil witch cast over them?

Convinced that Ala Rubra was too encumbered with being the good guys to ever make the right decisions, Gödel struck off on his own. While in Megalo-Mesembria, the teenage boy was approached by one of the Faithful and shown the true path to ensure the world's salvation. With the brotherhood's help, he was elected to the Senate and rose rapidly through its ranks. Yet even the Brethren had too narrow of a focus, failing to see beyond their duty to stop the Life Giver.

Yes they must prevent the world's destruction, but a new order needed to be established. Both the outdated imperialism of Hellas and the ineffectual alliance of the Northern Nations had to be swept away; replaced by a cadre of leaders who would make the difficult choices. And it had nearly come to fruition.

The Separatists were to sever the gates and topple the established governments. However, before King Enteofushia and his cronies could seize power, Kurt and a few well-placed fellows would stop them. A grateful citizenry would give their saviors all the authority needed to root out the traitors and usher in a new age. But then that Kagurazaka girl showed up and the glorious revolution withered before it could send out so much as a shoot.

Salvaging his vision was still possible, Kurt believed. Success required capturing the public's attention and that meant he needed a figure that would command their notice. Negi Springfield, son of the Thousand Master, was readymade for that role. If the boy could be brought back to the Mundus Magicus, were Kurt could provide the proper guidance, the new age could still be achieved. Of course the contaminating influences around the youngster had to be removed. But he had allies who could deal with those nuisances.

Blocks of crumbling walls and other debris littered the once bustling thoroughfare in the heart of Old Ostia. Citizens and visitors alike had crowded the wide boulevard connecting the Enteofushian Palace to the Circus Maximus. Now, only a few clumps of grass, poking out between weathered paving stones, could be seen. 'A city of ghosts,' the governor-general thought as his foot impatiently tapped the transport's carpeted floor. "There," he said, pointing at twin blocks of black marble. "Land there."

Statues commemorating the wedding of Lady Aricia Teotanasia to Mifuzu Saseru Enteofushia, King of Vespatatia, had once rested upon those massive slabs. Rumor had it that they were pulled down by a grief stricken husband who could not bear to see his wife's likeness after her "mysterious" death. Quietly whispered was they were left empty to serve as grim reminders of royal power and caprice.

Stepping out of the transport, Kurt and his young squire headed directly towards the Royal Treasury. The building was as grand as any of the temples raised within the city, fitting since wealth was the true religion of Ostia both old and new. Carefully the pair ascended the rubble-strewn steps and passed into the Grand Hall where a shouted "Halt!" stopped them.

"This is a restricted area," the unseen sentry announced.

"I'm well aware of that Bleys," Kurt called back. "I'm here to see the doctor."

A grey-robed figure carrying an energy lance appeared at the end of the hall. Floating above the tilted floor, the heavily muscled man approached the governor and then bowed deeply. "I beg your pardon sir, but we weren't expecting you."

As the guard pulled back the hood covering his head, Kurt could clearly see the mercenary's crag-like face, criss-crossed by several white scars from previous battles. "I know," he replied, "but I wanted to examine the doctor's handiwork for myself."

"Then follow me sir," the armed man said while turning on his heel. "I'll take you to him straight away."

Broad shoulders bunched and rippled underneath the mage robe as the guard floated across the debris-filled floor. Bleys Galynd had been an up and coming officer of the Alliance during the Great War. After his regiment spearheaded a successful thrust into Argos, he was being considered for greater command when reports surfaced of a massacre of non-human prisoners under his control. True or not, the Imperial Forces had rallied in response to the supposed atrocity and the offensive stalled.

After being cashiered from the military, he began a career as a well-paid mercenary. Many a survivor of the civil war in Syrtis cursed his name and with good reason; under his command, the Teutonic Mage Knights had razed whole cities from the map during that upheaval. It had been only natural for Kurt to have enlisted his assistance for the counter coup. As King Enteofushia's mercenaries went about their tasks, and failed miserably, Bleys had quietly secured the Argyre legation's compound. Recognizing a valuable asset, Kurt had shielded the man from that unholy trio of Senator Ricardo, Grand Magus Seras and Third Princess Theodora in the aftermath of what had been euphemistically called the Ostian Incident.

Their path twisted through partially cleared corridors and offices into one of the sublevels beneath the ground floor. Passing through a final set of doors, the party entered a makeshift laboratory. A grey-haired man in a white lab coat looked up at their noise. "Governor Gödel," the man called out. "What a surprise to see you."

"I'm afraid I've grown too impatient to see the results Doctor Azarus," Kurt replied. Though the man appeared to be nothing more than the kindly, family physician popular on the HD, Rafaelo Azarus was the most skilled cosmetic surgeon within the nations of the Northern Alliance. He was also a heavy gambler who had bet a bundle on Team Argyre the previous season.

"Then come this way Governor," the doctor beckoned. Moving to a curtained alcove, the man pulled the fabric aside to reveal a glass tank such as critically wounded patients were kept in. Suspended within a jelly-like liquid was a teenage girl whose hair fell about a slender waist.

"I'm particularly pleased with the eyes," Doctor Azarus commented. "Matching both shades proved a challenge."

"Splendid work," Kurt responded as his eyes carefully examined a duplicate no spell would ever detect. His lips turned down into a slight frown. "There's just one thing more doctor."

"Yes?" the surgeon asked.

"According to my information," Kurt answered, "the subject has no pubic hair."

"What? But she must be 15 at least?"

Spinning about, the governor began retracing his path. "Just take care of it doctor," he remarked. "And then we can consider your debt paid in full."

--

Megalo-Mesembria

"A slave collar you say?" the doctor replied as he glanced up from the clipboard in his hands. The physician seemed mostly human save for a pair of black furred ears that stuck out from his head. "She's lucky then. I've seen far worse than her burns caused by those damnable devices."

"Yes, and I'd appreciate it if this went no further than you and I," Doubek said. "If word got out that somebody actually removed their collar …"

"I understand," the doctor responded. "You can count on my cooperation."

"Is the young lady conscious yet?" the old mage asked.

"Yes, but she's not ready for an interrogation."

"I have no intention of interrogating the poor girl," he assured the doctor. "I do wish to confirm her identity so any possible family can be contacted."

The dragon-girl's eyes were open and alert as Doubek walked into the hospital room. Seating himself next to her bed, the Harbinger stared at her expressionless face. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she tersely answered. Her voice was pitched lower than he would have expected, but was pleasant sounding none the less. His eyes moved back to the heavily bandaged hand resting on top of the blanket.

"Excellent," he replied. "That's good to hear Miss …?"

"Tamaki," the girl answered and then blankly stared at his patiently, expectant face.

"Do you want to get word to your family?" he finally asked.

"No."

"Is there anyone you'd like to …?"

"No."

"Miss … Tamaki, I want to explain the current situation so you understand your position," Doubek said. "Both men you were with are wanted felons. As a slave, you cannot be charged as an accessory. However, your contract could be sold at a state-sanctioned auction and the proceeds used to pay off any debts against your owners."

Though her features remained neutral, he caught an ear twitch at that remark. "Further Miss Tamaki, you were found with your collar removed. If it is determined that your owner didn't release you, I'd imagine a lot of people will be talking to you, people less patient than I."

"Leniency can be granted if it is proved you were deliberately mistreated," Doubek told her as his glance focused on the stub of the girl's severed horn. "And if you were illegally enslaved, you will be immediately freed and entitled to compensation from those responsible."

Tamaki's gaze remained level and her lips shut, but something about the dragon-girl cried out for help.

"As you wish Miss Tamaki," he said and then took his leave.

Outside, Doubek began to search for a water fountain when he was accosted by Agent Masuda.

"Mister Valkova," the inquisitor called. In the woman's hand was a compact disc case. "Did you have any luck with the young lady?"

"No," he answered. "She gave a name and not much else."

"I noticed this in the gift shop and was intrigued," Chiho explained as she held the case up for his inspection. "You might find it of interest too."

'Damashi, Key of the Twilight,' the cover read. "What does this have to do …?"

Before he could finish, the agent turned the package over and revealed a picture of five girls. Tamaki stood on the far right, next to a neko-girl. "Damashi," he mused aloud. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"They were one of the star attractions at last year's Ostian Peace Festival," Chiho informed him. "All of the band members disappeared mysteriously during the chaos after the incident."

Doubek stared at the picture of the teen musicians. "Curiouser and curiouser."

"If she was kidnapped and made a slave, wouldn't that invalidate her contract?" the squint-eyed woman asked.

"Certainly," he answered. "If she had been kidnapped for that purpose."

Doubek thought back to last year's troubles. All of the gateports, save one, lay in ruins and the Council had charged him with apprehending the young ringleader of the terrorist band responsible. Word had come that the lad and several accomplices were spotted in Ostia, so off the Harbinger went. That Negi Springfield and his ministra were the culprits was utter rubbish, but Doubek had received his orders.

By a stroke of pure luck, he happened across one of the plot's true leaders attempting to flee the old city. At odd moments, Doubek regretted letting Mifuzu Enteofushia take the coward's way out, yet the information retrieved helped them root out Kosmos Entelechia agents within the Council's midst. If the dragon-girl was indeed part of that musical group, then Tamaki would be a person of interest.

"I'm sure the enforcers will sort this out," he told the inquisitor. "What was it you wanted to speak with me about?"

"Oh yes. It had slipped my mind during all the excitement," the agent replied though he didn't believe that for a moment. "I must inform you that you are under no obligation to answer my questions and that our discussion is to be kept confidential."

"I understand."

"Speaker Karkolova is under suspicion for misusing funds appropriated for the gate stone replacement project," Masuda told him and then waited for his reaction.

"That would be most surprising if true," Doubek responded.

"Have you known the Speaker long?" the agent asked.

"For more than eight years," he answered while recalling a younger Regina. Within two years of arriving from the Mundus Vertus, the bounty hunter had made a name for herself in the border regions between the Alliance and Empire. They had first met while both were pursuing the same group of renegade mages. A temporary alliance had been the start of their friendship.

"Do you two ever discuss financial matters?"

"Only those pertaining to my expense account."

"What exactly is the Speaker's role in the project?"

"I believe the Speaker was approached by several scientists who claimed they could fabricate gate stones in a matter of months rather than years," Doubek answered. "Using the extraordinary powers granted to her by the Council, she authorized immediate construction. Since the ports opened for operation two months ago, I wouldn't think there'd be any complaints … except from those who want the gates closed."

"Such matters are beyond the scope of my investigation," Agent Masuda said. "You said she was approached by scientists; who were they?"

"I believe they were members of OSIRIS."

"OSIRIS?"

"The Oculus Scientific Institute of Research, Investigation and Study," he explained.

"Oculus? Isn't that where that Doctor Glimmerhorn was from?"

"Yes," Doubek confirmed. "He's was a member of OSIRIS."

"Was?" the agent asked.

"Doctor Glimmerhorn disappeared days before he was to address the Mana Crisis Conference in Phoenicis," the man answered. "There's been no trace of him since."

"Didn't the news report that somebody tried to blow up that conference?"

"That is correct."

"My, look at the time," the woman said as she glanced at a wall clock. "Thank you for your help Mister Valkova, but I really must be going. Do you need a lift back to your apartment?"

"I'll be fine Miss," he told her. "Enjoy your office party."

--

Seated in the dolphin, Agent Masuda punched the speed dial on her phone. "Hello chief? Chiho here. Sorry about being late but my interview took a little longer than I anticipated," she explained. "I have a question about this investigation. Can I buy a ticket to Oculus?"

--

Koyomi sat at the piano and played for her "master's" entertainment. Around her neck rested a leather collar from which a tiny bell hung. The neko-girl's tail, curled behind her back, gave an angry flick whenever that bell jingled. She could feel the man's leering eyes upon her, could hear the corners of his mouth crinkle upwards into a smug grin. How sweet it would be to rip that smug grin to shreds she thought, but as long as Tamaki was a prisoner…

Softly the ring tone from the Councilor's phone played and he answered the call with a curt "What is it?"

Koyomi couldn't hear what the response was, but Ikoma's "That is most unfortunate" told her that their evening was likely to be cut short. Not that she would mind. Sure enough, after hanging up, he ordered her to stop and she unhesitatingly obeyed.

"I have a job for you," Ikoma said. "You'll need to leave for Granicus tomorrow. I expect you'll be there for several days."

"I'll have to give a reason to be gone from the office," she replied. "What shall I tell Mifune-sama?"

"I don't care," the man snapped. "Tell him you're tending a sick aunt."

"What is it you wish me to do master?"

"There's a certain individual who's outlived his usefulness."

--

Meldiana, Wales

Kneeling on a grassy knoll, Eishun remained as still as a rock. Undetectable to untrained eyes was the constant tensing and relaxing of muscles that kept blood flowing and the body limber enough to move in a split second. As a youngster being introduced to the way of the sword, he could not appreciate the need to learn how to sit motionless. Dutifully, the boy obeyed his sensei and sat, assailed by boredom, a little longer each day.

One day, Eishun's legs had turned numb when his teacher set upon the apprentice with a bamboo sword. Unable to move quickly enough, the boy had been beaten with the practice blade. "I do not teach useless lessons," his master shouted at him. "No matter where you are, no matter what you are doing, you must be prepared to fight at an instant's notice."

Bruised and battered, he had gazed up as the swordsman challenged, "When you can do that, I will teach you more."

Tranquility was shattered by a metallic hiss as the nodachi slipped from its scabbard. A hum filled the air as the blade's keen edge sliced through imaginary enemies. Spinning, dodging, leaping and slashing, Eishun moved like veritable whirlwind of destruction. Patterns ingrained from years of repetition flowed smoothly and naturally, without conscious thought: upwards cut from right to left, cross cut from left to right and then a downwards cut diagonally. As quickly as it had begun, the sword was sheathed and the master stood ready.

"Bravo! Splendid! Superb!" a high pitched voice squeaked. Glancing down, the sword's master spotted his appreciative audience by a tuft of grass. An ermine with white fur and a black banded tail stood on its hind legs, mouthing compliments non-stop. "Such sublime swordsmanship," the creature spouted. "I've not seen its like before."

A wry smile graced the man's lips as Eishun replied with a "Thank you."

"Might I know your name good sir?" the ermine asked.

"It's Konoe," he answered.

"Well Konoe, my name is Sophia," she told him. "Would you happen to be from Japan?"

His affirmative prompted a pleased "Smashing! Simply smashing!" in response.

The grasses parted as another ermine poked its head out. "Go ahead and ask him Sophia," the newcomer anxiously whispered.

"I was just getting to it," the first one testily replied. Focusing back upon Eishun, Sophia asked, "I know Japan is rather a large place, but by chance, would you happen to know an ermine by the name of Albert Chamomile?"

Chamo-kun, as Albert was affectionately referred as, had accompanied Negi on all of the boy's trips to Kyoto. The pervin' ermine, as Asuna called him, had a well deserved reputation among the temple's maidens, who would carefully inventory and then hide their unmentionables whenever another visit by Konoka and friends was announced. "I know him," Eishun answered.

"How is he?" the second ermine asked the swordsman directly.

"This is Penelope," Sophia introduced.

"Please to meet you," the newcomer said.

"Albert, you see, is our brother," Sophia told him, "and we haven't heard from him in ages."

"He seemed in good health the last time I saw him," he informed the pair. "That was only ten days ago."

"You see, I told you he'd know Albert," Penelope gloated. "Everybody knows Albert."

"It's a relief to hear our dear brother's in good health," Sophia remarked, "but is he keeping out of trouble?"

Eishun carefully considered his answer. By ignoring the theft of women's under things and forcing provisional pactios upon a young and innocent boy he could answer yes. Seeing the man's hesitation, Sophia rolled her eyes and exclaimed "Oh dear! Albert's not doing that again is he?"

From the ermine's expression, he didn't have to ask what "that" meant.

"It's not really his fault," Penelope hastily chimed in to her brother's defense. "Albert's just trying to find that woman."

"Woman?" he asked. "What woman is that Miss Penelope?"

"Miss Penelope?" the ermine repeated in an obviously pleased tone. "I like that."

"Don't go off on a tangent Penny," her sister scolded. "It was the woman who cursed our poor brother."

"Somebody cursed him?" Eishun asked while privately wondering that more hadn't.

"Yes and because of that curse," Sophia lamented, "our beloved Albert is off gallivanting instead of being here to take care of us."

"But at least he sends money regularly," Penny pointed out.

"That is entirely beside the point!" the other ermine angrily replied. "His place is here with his family! If that woman was here I'd … I'd … I'd act in a very unladylike fashion!"

"Perhaps I can be of service," Eishun said, drawing the sisters' attention.

"I am versed in breaking curses," he explained. "If you can tell me more about this woman and what she did, I might be able to help poor Albert."

In response, the sisters put their heads together in a whispered conversation. The shinmei-ryu patiently waited, thinking to himself that this could only happen in England, well Wales he amended.

"Well Konoe, if you believe you can actually help our brother …" the first ermine said.

"I cannot promise to lift the curse," Eishun replied, "but I will do what I can."

"Then follow us," Penelope called as she scampered down the hillside. With some reluctance, Sophia bounded after her sister.

Following the twin flashes of white, Eishun was led to another hill. Spike-like stalks with rows of vivid purple-colored flowers covered the mound his guides had led the swordsman to. Penelope vanished from sight as did her sister. A moment later, Sophia reappeared. "Come on," the ermine said. "This way."

Extending his senses outward, he couldn't detect even a slight trace of magic about the mound, but as he stepped within a pace of it, the hill transformed into a circular-shaped hut. The outer walls of the structure had been covered with mud and atop it rested a conical roof made of thatch. Eishun was reminded of a travel magazine article featuring roundhouses built in pre-Roman Briton. Pushing past a leather flap hung over the opening, he stepped inside.

Light, from a score or more of crystals embedded into stone pillars, softly glowed in response to his presence. Gazing about, he noted that a cot, table, stool and other simple furnishings were still in place, as if the owner had left that morning for a stroll. Piled near the cot were enough panties to fill the ladies lingerie department of the local Marks and Spencer store several times over.

A couple of books and writing materials rested upon the table. Glancing down at the covers, Eishun made out the titles: 'A Russian Reference' and 'A Russian Primer.' The sheets of paper, mildewed to a muddy grey, were covered with neatly written rows of Cyrillic characters.

"And this woman who cursed your brother," Eishun asked the sisters, "can you describe her?"

"Albert is the only one to have seen her," Sophia answered.

"But he spoke about her often enough," Penelope remarked. "She had long, sort of reddish-brown hair, with skin as pale as freshly fallen snow."

As the ermine continued speaking, her expression was that of a person gazing far into the distance, as if trying to catch a glimpse of a ship sailing over the horizon. "Her eyes were the color of aquamarine and they sparkled in the reflected fire light. The sound of her voice was more delicate than a windborne thistle, yet commanded complete attention."

Sophia sat with mouth open, mesmerized by her sister's narration. "Her scent was strong, being more spicy than musky, and it was as overpowering as a field of new mown hay." Penelope paused, as if attempting to dredge more memories and then sighed, "At least that's how Albert described her to me."

"Was there anything else Miss Penelope?"

"The woman had a ring, a silver ring that flashed green when she made him promise …"

"What did she make your brother promise?" Eishun asked.

Penelope glanced at her sister, who nodded in return. "She made him promise to become friends with a little boy who had lost his parents," the ermine answered. "A little boy named Negi."

--

Mahora, Japan

Music blared from a set of woofers that would not have been out of place in a concert hall, though it could barely be heard over the din of conversation. The dormitory's recreation room was swathed in streamers, balloons and a large banner that read 'Welcome.' Every kind of snack that the all-night market carried had been purchased and an over laden table groaned from the weight. Phillip Markham gazed about, impressed by his homeroom's effort.

After announcing his intention to remain at Mahora, the students had organized an impromptu celebration in the time it took for the class period to finish and the day's final bell to ring. 'What these girls can accomplish when they put their minds to it.'

'If only they could channel this energy into their schoolwork,' he silently lamented.

That the girl's were throwing a party for their teacher was humbling. At the same time, the feeling was tempered by the knowledge that class 1A didn't require much of an excuse to have a good time. Takahata-san glossed over a "few" things during their discussion on Phillip's new students, but his predecessor may have been guilty of understatement in this case.

Following Father Tomatsu's advice, Phillip had decided to weather the storm and remain as their teacher. Yet doubts persisted. Accepting the existence of magic hadn't been a stumbling block, nor had being in the crosshairs of a group of wizards bent on destroying Mahora. His true dilemma stemmed from a certain girl in his homeroom.

Being a stranger in a strange land, the middle-aged man had reached out to his student in friendship, blithely ignoring the potential for disaster. In hindsight he could clearly see the signs here and there that should have clued him in. Why didn't he at the time? Was he behaving like a typically dense male when it came to women, or did he subconsciously enjoy the ego boost that being liked by a pretty girl provided? As he watched a future where Madoka became a drug addict unfold, Phillip finally grasped that the "strong feelings" were mutual.

"Would you like something to drink sensei?" the class rep asked. Ayaka held a black, lacquered flask and offered Phillip a matching box with a smaller cup set inside it. Noting her teacher's dubious expression, the girl explained that this was a traditional serving set for sake.

"That flask doesn't contain sake does it?"

"Ginger ale," she assured him and then poured out the sparking liquid until the smaller cup overflowed.

"Oops. You spilled," he commented.

"It's supposed to be served that way," Ayaka informed him, "as a sign of generosity."

Being the daughter of a family whose wealth was greater than the gross domestic product of several countries, Phillip had been leery at first of class president's ability to lead; and the reputation class 1A had with other teachers did nothing to alter that opinion. However, Miss Yukihiro was a willing pupil who possessed a talent for getting things done. He needed to get her more involved in future planning.

"Why does the banner say welcome?"

"We weren't sure what to call this situation," Ayaka answered. "Since we didn't throw you a welcoming party before, we decided to make up for our lapse."

"Iincho-san," Asakura called as the red-headed reporter approached. "Do you have a moment? I'd like to discuss a financial matter with you."

As the pair walked away Chisame promptly filled the void. "Markham-sensei, can we talk?" the girl asked as she readjusted the strap of her laptop case. "There's something I think you need to see."

Seated in the lobby upstairs, the hacker opened the laptop and logged in as her teacher watched. "What's this about?" Phillip asked.

"I was assisting Anya-san this morning," she admitted. "I apologize too for putting you through all that. While observing your past, I noticed something about that little girl from the bar you helped."

In a minute, the child's image was displayed on the monitor. "This is the girl right?" Chisame waited for him to nod and a few keystrokes later, a split screen showed the refuge next to a classmates' face. "Photoshock is a sophisticated graphics program," she explained as her finger depressed another key. Quietly they watched as the software slowly morphed the little girl's face into a duplicate of the other's.

"Have you told anyone about this?"

"Anya-san and Chamo-kun know," Chisame answered. "I haven't discussed it with anybody else."

"Thank you Miss Hasegawa."

--

Gossip had such negative connotations attached to it that Haruna decided that a new term was needed for what she and her circle of friends and acquaintances did. They performed an important task by ensuring the free flow of information from one end of the campuses of Mahora to the other. If the old adage about knowledge being power was true, then she should be lauded for leveling the playing field instead of reviled as a "gossiping girl".

A party like this should have provided a trove of information, but the mangaka hadn't unearthed the least, little tidbit. Finely honed senses scanned the room as twin hairs sticking out from the girl's head quivered like a pair of antenna.

"I still haven't caught up on my reading assignment."

"The EOS 20D comes out in August and costs around 200,000."

"I bought the latest Neverwinter Nights expansion pack. Want to come over a play it?"

"Can I copy your math homework?"

"I'll trade you three Hell Borne Frogs and an Ill-omened Crow for your Kendrian Shape Shifter."

"They're serving BBQ in the dining hall tonight."

"I know how you feel about soloing, but I have a new song that would sound better with you singing."

"May I speak with you privately Miss Rainyday?"

Anger flickered nearby in response to that last question. Haruna whirled about to find Misa glaring at sensei and Rainyday-san as the two of them stepped outside the rec room. Smiling, she shadowed the cheerleader into the hallway. Whatever was going on, it was bound to be juicier than a game of twister.

Kakizaki bent at the waist as the girl peered around the corner. Haruna joined her classmate and grinned in response to Misa's irritated scowl.

"You're that girl from the bar," Markham-sensei exclaimed. "I can't believe I found you after all this time. Why didn't you tell me?"

Although Zazie kept silent, the American surprised them by remarking, "No, I'm not angry with you. How could I be?"

Both teens stared at each other in confusion as the one-sided conversation continued. "You were the one who fired that shot?" Phillip grabbed hold of Zazie by her shoulders. "But why?"

Haruna gave her companion a do-you-know-what's-going-on look that Misa merely shrugged in response to.

"I guess that makes sense," sensei continued, "in a bizarre way."

The scuffle of shoes across cement announced the arrival of a third member. Ducking back around the corner, Haruna noted Yuna's approach. As the newcomer opened her mouth to speak, both eavesdroppers motioned for quiet.

"That's all in the past," Phillip emphatically declared. Three heads poked around the corner in time to see their teacher embrace another of his students. A scent not unlike rotted almonds filled Haruna's nose as the man said, "All that matters is that you're here."

--

Sunlight shone down on pink and white blossoms as slender stalks gently swayed, this time by a breeze. No luminous eyes peered out from the gloom gathered at the base of the oleanders. No snarl accompanied by sharp claws and fangs would greet her this day or any other. The ghosts of a murdered child and mother had released Aisaka Haru's spirit, and all of them had moved on to the next world. Sayo hoped that all three souls had found their happiness.

Sitting in her sister's garden, the former and soon to be again ghost luxuriated in the sensation of wiggling her toes in the grass. After spending the previous sixty years as a spirit, the girl was amazed by the feeling of flesh against the cool, springy plants. So many simple pleasures had been forgotten, like basking in the afternoon's warmth, it felt as if they were all brand new experiences. Soon the borrowed body would be returned and Sayo would be condemned to a ghostly existence once more.

"What am I going to do then?" she asked aloud.

"Why not, hmm hmm, continue to help others as you did earlier today."

Twisting about, she discovered that Mahora's headmaster stood a handful of paces away. Quickly the student scrambled to her feet and bowed in greeting. "Forgive me headmaster-sensei," Sayo explained, "I didn't hear you approach."

A wistful look was on Konoemon's face. "There was a time when you called me by name."

Breath caught in her throat at that. With an effort she managed to reply, "That would not be proper. I am a student still."

"And we must, heh heh, be proper mustn't we?" the old man observed. "What did you learn today?"

According to her father's diary, several Aisaka women had been skilled exorcists. Many of her family had fervently believed Sayo would follow in that noble tradition. The two hitodama, her constant companions through the years, had responded to the girl's commands and assumed a semblance of the people they had been in life. Even Markham-sensei, who could summon ghosts from their photographs, couldn't do that. And before he departed, her father claimed that there was still work to do in this world before she could cross over. "I have a purpose," she answered and then paused.

Since becoming friends with Kazumi and Negi, Sayo had realized that she no longer needed to be alone. The world held those who would willingly extend their friendship to her, even risk themselves for her sake. This morning proved that it was more than the handful in Team Negi that cared; the entire class had decided to stand with her. "And I have friends."

The headmaster's features softened as the corners of the man's mouth slightly raised in a smile. "Both very, hmm, important lessons," he commented. "However, there is one other I wish to tell you of."

She gazed at him with a puzzled frown on her face. "What more is there headmaster-sensei?"

His smile didn't fade, though it turned bittersweet, and Sayo saw the worn and tired man who had once been the vibrant youth she had gone to the spring dance with. "I have done a terrible thing," he confessed. "And my only excuse was that I missed you so much Say-chan."

"Since our kiss, not a day has gone by that I did not think of you," he admitted. "Even as a married man and raising a family, you were never far from my thoughts."

She stood speechless at this revelation, confused by the tumble of thoughts it brought and the strange reactions in her body. How could it be that the heart raced so fast while the lungs struggled to draw breath?

"I was devastated by your death," Konoemon explained. "My life no longer seemed worth living; I went so far as to volunteer to be a kamikaze pilot."

"Ko-kun?" she whispered.

"I flew out give my worthless life in defense of our homeland, but I could only see your beautiful face before me," the old man recalled. "A face that reminded me of all the reasons I still had for living."

Bare feet pounded as flesh and blood legs closed the distance between them. Arms embraced the suddenly frail seeming man. Gazing up into a deeply lined face overarched with bushy, white brows, the girl could still recognize the boy she had loved. "Ko-kun?" Sayo wept.

"You saved my miserable life that day Say-chan." Gently the headmaster disengaged her arms and stepped back, though he still grasped her hands. "However, do not think so well of me. You haven't heard all yet."

"After the war, I returned to the magic I had once scorned in hopes of finding a spell that would return you to me," he explained. "But my search was in vain. A little over forty years ago, I stumbled across the, hmm hmm, answer while reading about the pioneering work done by Tong Dizhou, a Chinese embryologist."

"Do you know what DNA is?" he asked and Sayo nodded in understanding.

"Tong inserted the DNA from a male carp into the egg of a female carp and created a genetic duplicate of the male fish," the headmaster told her. "I reasoned that the same could be done with people if a sample of the genetic material was available."

"As the headmaster, I have access to Mahora's medical records," he explained while removing a plastic sleeve from his robes. 'Aisaka, S.' was written across the sleeve and inside of it were three strands of black hair. "Eishun-san was as caring and attentive a husband as my daughter could wish for, heh heh, but she had not been able to conceive in nearly four years of marriage."

A sick dread filled her stomach and Sayo began to tremble. "What did you do?"

"I recommended that they try artificial insemination," Konoemon answered. "And I had your DNA inserted into my daughter's egg."

Sayo eyes gaped wide in horror as he continued. "Konoka, my beautiful granddaughter, is the result of a misguided attempt to bring you back."

--

A/N: Part of the fun of writing this is coming up with explanations for why certain events occur in the manga. Like why do Konoka and Sayo resemble each other? And why does Chamo-kun collect, well you know?

The chapter heading and title are from the first volume of Churchill's history "The Second World War."

The title "Key of the Twilight" originated as a song written by Yuki Kajiura for "Hack SIGN."

Tong Dizhou is a noted scientist. His experiment with the carp was performed in the early 1960s.