Disclaimer: If I did I certainly wouldn't be publishing this here.
AN: First foray into the fandom. This morning I randomly flipped through Ptolemy's Gate and reread some of my favorite sections out of boredom. I was randomly inspired to do this. Continue? You tell me. Likely to anyways, just to explain why Nathaniel's alive at least, 'cause there is a reason. Eh, if you wanna know it, you tell me.
I'm sorta nervous about branching out, I usually restrict myself to Avatar: The Last Airbender, this is actually my first time writing anything else that wasn't that or my original stuff.
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She was tired, her jet black fur was matted with blood and grime. Around her lay the corpses of her loyal Night Police, their bodies mangled and twisted. Despite their might and their intelligence, a few rogue demons had gotten the better of the magicians and now she was alone in a world where she was despised. For the first time in her life, Magician and Police Chief Jane Farrar could see no way out. The government had fallen and her world with it.
She refused to fall too. No, she would persevere without bowing to the weaker magicians and uppity commoners who were doubtlessly taking control in the wake of the death of the PM and most of his Council. Even though her werewolves had fallen, she still had demons at her command and she knew where to find still more power. She would bide her time, verify her resources, and then she would reassert her self amongst the public and take back control of the government for the magicians.
With these thoughts in mind, Jane — still in her wolf form — turned towards the direction of the Palace where a great explosion had taken place earlier in the night.
Mandrake had likely been at the epicenter of the blast and as no more demons were wreaking havoc, his plan had been a success unlike her own. Jane had no doubts that it was the power of Gladstone's Staff that had set off the explosion and killed the demons, meaning that John could use it. So it was only natural that she would be able to control it as well. Yes, the commoners wouldn't stand a chance against that sort of power as John had long maintained.
As she trekked through the park she found herself amazed by the destruction that had been wrought. Deep gouges scarred the earth, some of them still smoking. Here and there was a corpse, only a few recognizable as human, all of them partially devoured and burned. Her keen nostrils twitched irritably at the smell of rotting and burnt flesh, though the side of her that was predominantly wolf delighted in the scent.
Eventually she came to a point where the ground was littered with sparkling glass shards and shifted form, not wanting to ruin her paws when she could walk as a human and risk her boots instead. The Palace was obliterated entirely and Jane hoped that the staff had not shared a similar fate as she proceeded forward. When she reached the crater where the explosion had originated she found not the staff, but something else entirely.
Lying on the ground, scorched with his side severely damaged, was John Mandrake himself. Even though their relationship had grown cold as of late, Jane still rushed to his side and desperately felt for a pulse at his throat. To her inexplicable relief, a thready and sporadic beat met her questing fingers. She scanned his side and was pleased to see that the heat of the explosion had cauterized his injury. Satisfied that he would keep long enough for her to ascertain exactly how he had survived, she searched the crater for the staff. To her immense disappointment, she found no trace of it.
Well, at least something had come from her search. While John had sometimes proved to be ridiculously sentimental and idealistic, he was still a powerful magician and had once been her closest ally. She smirked slightly as she shifted him so as to loop a limp arm around her shoulders. Two magicians such as they? The poor excuse for a government that the commoners were building wouldn't stand a chance.
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AN: Oh noes! Mr. and Mrs. Smith are coming for you, Commoner Government!