...She stops and looks around.

Eventually, hesitantly, she nods.

"Such things happen to many humans a few times, but never so often. You are special in some way, then? And it's normal for you?"

"They're not my real parents."

"Genies do not have parents."

"Humans do but sometimes parents die and they give you to new ones and sometimes the new ones are bad."

A breeze kicks up some outdoor dust and dirt into a vaguely humanoid figure held up by shifting air currents.

"Why do humans need to have parents?"

"Um, 'cause we start out tiny and unable to take care of ourselves, so we need other people to do it for us until we're old enough, except sometimes they're--really bad at it."

"Humans are bad at things sometimes, yes. But you are not tiny anymore. I have seen humans your size earning 'money'. Money is used to acquire food and shelter, I believe."

"My body's most of the way to grown but my brain isn't."

"Ah, organs. Such a burden, aren't they?"

"I guess. Humans need them to not die though."

"I don't understand humans. They seem strange and disrespectful and suicidal and greedy and destructive and yet also oddly optimistic and determined and caring and cooperative. Even spirit-bearers are the same, though their substance is more like my own."

"Well, there's a lot of us. Lots of people are at least one of the things on that list but most people aren't all of 'em."

"All nature spirits want to protect their domain. All genies want to explore the world. I thought all humans wanted to have family and friends."

"Almost all, yeah. But--no family is worse than a good family, but a bad family can be worse than no family."

"Do you want no family?"

"Yeah."

"Then why don't you run away or kill them?"

"Because if I run away they'll find me because I don't know as much about here as they do and they have money to hire people who are good at looking and they'll hurt me worse when they get me back and if I kill them then I either go to jail or have to try again with another set who might be worse."

"I could turn you into a hawk."

"That would be worse."

"Hawks don't stay with their parents when they are large, though. The parents would kill them if they tried to do that."

"Yes but hawks can't read books or talk to people or eat anything that isn't raw meat and I think they live a lot less time than humans."

"Spirit bearers don't have those problems, do they?"

"No..."

"I can't make just anyone a spirit bearer. It's kind of a big deal. I want to see something really interesting in exchange if you want to be a spirit bearer."

"What kind of interesting?"

"So many things are interesting, but this has to be special. Something I can't see somewhere else. Human children don't kill human parents very much. And you hate them, don't you? If you kill your parents in interesting ways I will give you magic powers. Or I could try to think of something else and come back later if I do."

"I don't know enough about genies to know what you will find an interesting way."

"The burning powder tubes and the blades on long sticks are boring."

"...So as long as I don't use a gun or a knife it's okay?"

"Poison is also boring. And fire."

"Gun, knife, poison, fire. Okay. Should I assume a blunt object like a lead pipe or a candlestick is also boring?"

"If that's all you use, probably. Use your imagination! Like those 'novel books'!"

"I just want to be really sure I'm not coming out of this with a murder charge and no magic."

"Oh, fine, fine, fine. Pfah, planning and forethought. Tell me when you have a plan and I'll warn you if it's boring."

"Okay. I'm going to have to inventory the house, first. How do I find you to tell you?"

"I'm in the house with holes in it. I probably won't leave for a few days. Houses are interestingly different from prairie."

"Okay. I'll be there in a few hours. Tomorrow at the latest."

The dust-figure disappears with a sudden gust.

She goes home. She does inventory. She tests some stuff.

In a few hours she goes to the house with holes in it.

"You're not a construction human... Oh, you're the one I offered the deal to."

"Yes I am."

No response except another dust-figure forming, this one larger than before.

She describes her plan. Two plans, actually, one for each parent. An incompletely sawed-through chunk of their bedroom floor/the cellar ceiling, and a tripwire across the stairs to the cellar; either one isn't guaranteed to kill on its own, but it should at least incapacitate them enough for her to finish the job. She has several possible job-finishing options to suggest in case any of them are boring. A few of them involve normally-boring implements employed creatively.

"These are interesting plans! Do these things and I will make you a spirit bearer... And then I will leave very quickly."

"Fair."

He's only going to be around for a few more days; she can't wait for the best possible opportunity. She waits until her foster father is at work and her foster mother is out visiting a friend before she takes the saw in the garage to the floor, working as quickly as she can lest she be caught unawares by her foster mother's return. The tripwire is comparatively easy.

She had been expecting to get them in close succession, one trying to enter the bedroom and the other intending to charge down the stairs to help. That isn't how it goes; her foster mother does get home early, but not so suddenly Anna-Seraphina doesn't have time to hide the saw--but it doesn't matter, because she brought home unexpected jam from a friend who's trying to learn to make the stuff, and wants to put it in the cellar.

Anna-Seraphina puts the tripwire back and finishes the floor, after. Better to have two chances to get her foster-father than just one.

There are unaccountable breezes, rapidly shifting inside the house, during the exciting parts of this.

Probably the genie, then.

"Hello?" she says when she's done.

"Hello?"

"I did it."

"Just one so far. One left."

"Yeah."

She cleans the blood off the saw before she actually finishes the floorboards. And then gets it messy again when her foster father gets home and tries to get something from the bedroom.

"Yesss. That was interesting. That was unusual and visceral. I am glad I made this deal."

There is a sandstorm, or dust storm, or something outside. A tall, more solid than before figure emerges, with claws of some kind of stone and glowing yellow eyes the clearest features.

Apparently this genie is actually a lot bigger than she thought. It extends one claw-finger towards her.

She stands perfectly still. If it wants her to move it can tell her so.

It reaches through the window, breaking it, and pokes her slightly, near her heart.

It's warm.

Some of the genie's substance flows into her in a hot rush. It's like a roller coaster on the hottest day of summer, like flying in a city-size oven. Exhilrating. But aspects of pain, too intense, overwhelming. 

The 'heat' is replaced by other kinds of pain as it inches outward from her heart in steady pulses, most intense at the edge of the change. She sees fragments of her life, old memories, play in her head at high speed and chaotic intensity.

Things settle down towards the end. The memories stop. The intense heat is now a steady warmth, an inner fire. A new set of clothes spills out along this edge, doing something to her old ones along the way. Simple compared to the ones she sees in magazines and on TV, a sort of pleated jacket in a deep blue with a turtleneck collar, bell-end sleeves, small spots of lace here and there. A long skirt. Simple shoes, like running shoes.

And then it's done, down to the tips of her toes. She feels light on her feet. She feels magical. "Water," the genie says.

Wow.

She attempts to do a thing.

She sends a jet of water - coming from nowhere in particular - at whatever most qualifies as what she's focusing on right now. It's strong enough to send cups and plates flying.

The genie is a fair bit smaller than it was before... "I must go now. Have fun, spirit bearer."

"Thank you!"

Aaaand it's flying off.

...And it's being chased by Cruiser Grey, one of the local monster hunters!

...Yeah that's a thing.

She considers her options. She doesn't know enough about magic to confidently be able to lie believably about what happened, magic-wise...but she had better be careful. She would really rather not go to prison.

So--her best bet is probably cooperative and regretful.

She sits somewhere visibleish and starts crying.

This one is a boy, though he has an elaborate and colorful set of clothes that seem more lifelike than any ordinary fabric, just like hers. "Hello? Miss, miss can you hear me? I'm coming inside!"

There's the sound of someone clambering over debris. "Miss, are you - Oh. Oh. Markup! That genie made a deal. I see a new genie-girl in here! - Miss, what's your name?"

"Anna-Seraphina--I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry--" She bursts into a fresh set of tears.

"Anna, can I get you to calm down? You're sorry about something. And a genie, a genie, just left this place. I need you to calm down and tell me. Is there anyone who needs help right now?"

"N-no, the, the, they're--they're already dead, I'm so sorry."

"Okay. I hear you. You made a deal with that genie - did you - no, I'm getting this mixed up. I need you to come to the front yard with me, please. This house might be in danger of collapse. MARKUP! Range Eye and one new activation heading out the front door. No monsters that I can sense. New activation says nobody in immediate need, at least two dead."

She follows him out.

"We're just going to get far away from there, okay? Just in case."

Range Eye leads her about halfway to the cordon of light keeping all the gawkers away from her house. "You made a deal with that genie, and activated, and at least two people are dead. I'm Range Eye with the local branch of the Bureau of Menace Managment. I am not an officer of the law. I'm turning on my recorder - please be aware that anything you say here can be used against you in a court of law. You are not - currently - under arrest. I'd like you to tell me everything... If you don't mind."

"I didn't want to--I just wanted them to stop hurting me--no one believed me--"

"Please, nobody's going to hurt you. I'm sorry for the big speech. I just need you to tell me exactly what happened."

"They were my foster parents and they hurt me and no one would believe me about it, they were good at not leaving marks, and, and the genie said--if I killed them it'd give me magic--and I didn't want to but they kept hurting me."

He sighs. A police car pulls up. "Okay. This is going to be terrible for everyone. You willing to say that in front of a lie detector? Maybe some details on what they did..."

"Um--okay. I'm sorry," she adds miserably.

"It sounds like you were in a terrible situation," he says. (And still shouldn't have killed them, his body language says.) He touches his ear radio-thing. "...Anna, we're going to have to bring you to the police station. I promise that if you're telling the truth I'll do what I can to make sure you end up okay. I need you to de-transform for now, to reassure the police officers you won't hurt anyone. It should be like letting go of something."

"...Okay," she says. She hates the thought of letting go, of being powerless again--but right now it's what she needs to do. So she does.

The feeling of powerlessness aches almost physically - but not in a place, it's a disembodied pain. But the power is still there, just out of reach. 'I'm ready if you need it,' it says.

The police show up and go through the motions of arresting her. She's put into a squad car - Range Eye follows, holding a hand or something if it seems like it might help. They go to the police station and she's briefly questioned - she gets a change of clothes and a cold meal and is left to stew in a stereotypical interrogation room for about half an hour.

Then Range Eye comes back, with two officers and a tall woman with the most elaborate spirit bearer costume she's seen in person yet - A flowing white-and-blue gown with shiny armguards and boots, all sorts of embellishments, and a silver crown that makes elaborate rings floating above her head. Everyone knows a magic costume as elaborate as that denotes serious power.

"Anna, this is Leona Krellis. Also called Soothseer. She's employed by us to verify the truth of statements in sensitive situations like this."

"If the story I was told is true," she says in a cold tone, "Then the foster system of the state of New York has failed dramatically and tragically once again."

One of the officers rebukes, "No extraneous comments please, Mrs. Krellis. This is all going on record."

"My foster parents hurt me. They used to leave marks but I was clumsy when I was younger, everyone knew I was clumsy, and they were so sweet to me in public and they hurt me worse when I tried to tell so I eventually stopped and I was so scared, all the time, and then a genie offered to give me magic if I killed them and I didn't want to but I was so scared."

None of this is a lie.

"All of it true," reports Soothseer. She looks at Anna sympathetically.

The cops want more details. What exactly the genie said and how it acted is of particular interest. Some specific incidents of abuse are requested as well.

"Yeah. Um. Can you, um, I told the guy who got me my name--it's Anna-Seraphina, hyphenated, but he kept calling me Anna, can you call me the full thing, my foster mother--said my name was ridiculous, she would pointedly call me Anna when she was--correcting me for something." She reports the genie's actions as well as she can. She can refer them to specific incidents of abuse--her foster father mostly preferred verbal abuse and restriction of 'privileges' that were not, legally speaking, privileges, like enough sleep every night; her foster mother had more creative less shouty verbal abuse and places you could pinch someone for maximum unpleasantness with no marks.

Range Eye looks surprised and bashful.

Soothseer says, "Ah, yes. Of course. Anna-Seraphina. It is a bit long so I might forget. If that happens, please remind me."

"If you can't remember the whole thing Sera's better than Anna but I'd really rather the whole thing if you can."

"I'll try."

The cops are stone-faced as they take down details Range Eye leaves before too long, but Soothsayer stays to maintain the veracity of everything.

Soon enough they're done. She'll have a case worker and public defender soon. "Until then, and most likely for a while after then," the imposing Soothsayer says, "I will stay right next to you, Anna-Seraphina."

One of the officers clears his throat. "You are in a lot of trouble, though, miss. Even under severe provocation, murder is not something we can simply let slide since you were not actively in fear for your life at the time. It's just how the law is written."

"I know."

"Well, officer, that is a discussion that Anna-Seraphina has the right to have with her lawyer and not you."

"Of course. Anna, uh, Seraphina, please stand up and go out the door now. We're going to escort you to a temporary holding area."

"Okay." She does that.

Soothseer stands by her promise to stay with her. Though she does bring out a book to read unless Sera wants a conversation.

Soon her lawyer arrives.

And someone she vaguely recognizes, but never directly talked to, from the foster system.

She's not feeling especially talkative. Soothsayer can read her book.

She looks nervously at foster system dude.

The lawyer is harried and quick, keeps checking his watch.

Foster system dude looks grim and introduces himself as "Head of the Sprit Bearer subdivision of our office." They both mostly remember to use her full first name after being reminded.

...Basically her options boil down to 'go to court, get a trial by jury, probably get executed at the end of it all' or 'plead guilty, agree to a ten-year probation and glorified community service plan'. Under the latter, another Spirit Bearer would be her new guardian, and they would both be under much better scrutiny than before. Definitely.

Definitely the plea bargain. If by some miracle the new scrutiny fails she can always decide to get executed then if she's that desperate.

They start making the arrangements.

She'll have to sleep here tonight until the paperwork clears. She gets a phone call if she has anyone she wants to call. They're required to let her go outside and exercise if she asks to - might be a good idea to exercise her magic. In a nondestructive way. Spirit Bearers find using magic healthy and mentally stabilizing, generally speaking.

She has no one to call but she would love to exercise her magic.

Well, the exercise yard is a soccer field-sized dirt area enclosed by tall fencing.

All the other inmates give her plenty of space, muttering, when she pulls on the spark and the magical clothes come back.

She looks at them nervously but manages to ignore them after a little while if they keep giving her space. She pokes at her magic.

It's! Eager! She should do things with it! She can do the water jet, or she can do another thing.

She will be happy to do things with it! What's the other thing?

...It's a thing! It feels more toggle-y than the water jet.

Okay what happens if she toggles the thing.

Now she is holding a short (lightly blue-tinged) wooden spear with a sharp metal tip. It materializes from nothingness with much the same effect as the genie's body.

She probably remembers a few gym class spear exercises, right? Every year gets a couple weeks of them.

...Yes but she should probably put it away rather than brandishing it in a prison yard in front of the other inmates. She can do spear stuff later and just settle for water stuff right now.

Nobody is looking twice at the Spirit Bearer's undoubtedly extremely dangerous spear.

...For the water jet some control practice is probably a good idea. She will also notice that relatively little of her water sticks around for long. Some of it, sure, but if it all stayed she'd make a mud pit pretty quick.

Not making a mud pit: good. Control practice: also good.

Well, it's hard. And possibly more satisfying than it has a right to be for what progress she's making.

After an hour, they tell her exercise time is up, sorry.

Ugh. But okay fine she's not going to argue.

...She's also not going to detransform unless someone tells her to, although she will pretty promptly if they do.

They insist on it for the trip back, but if she wants to be transformed in the holding area that's okay - so long as she doesn't actually use magic.

She will not do magic but she really doesn't like the feeling of powerlessness being detransformed gives her, it is the exact opposite of jiving well with the whole "abuse" and "only probably not going to be executed" bits.

The officers quietly grumble that it's nerve-wracking just to be near Spirit Bearers if they might be unstable so deal with it.

Yeah she will detransform without complaints for the trip back but she turns back as soon as its allowed. Also, it's not like she's not more stable with it on.

Well, just remember that they have the Bureau of Menace Management onsite if she decides to get violent. They're not going to try and touch her or anything though. And dinner, though mediocre at best, comes right on schedule.

She does not misbehave at all! She is quiet and polite and meek and says thank you when her mediocre dinner is brought.

Then she'll be left alone in the locked it's-definitely-not-a-jail-just-a-holding-area with four beds and a toilet in the corner until lights out, and overnight.

She goes to bed promtly at lights-out, still in her magic outfit.

...Yeah she can't really sleep like this. It's too eager and worked-up. When she starts to drift off she'll detransform automatically.

The dull ache of going unpowered is lessening, at least.

Ah. If she can't sleep like this are there provided nightclothes?

All she has to do is ask. By shouting to make the nearest guard hear, but she does bring them and then go.

No, shouting to ask for things is not happening she will just sleep in her dayclothes.

...Actually they remember she might need some at around 10 PM and bring them down, plastic-wrapped, with a brief apology anyway.

Oh good. She accepts them with a small nervous smile and a thank you.

Yes this 'holding cell' is definitely following the rules for proper incarceration, please don't report any mistakes...

The morning sees the 'Spirit Bearer Division' foster system guy come back to visit her again. "Good morning, Anna-Seraphina. Are you feeling alright?"

"Um mostly yeah." She does not sound entirely alright.

That's kind of expected. "I'm here to talk about how to go forward with the probation program... We need to talk with your lawyer again today, and file some paperwork. Sooner or later you'll be out of here and with a new guardian - who exactly is not yet determined, and I'd like to give you a say in it if you feel up to that. Also whether it's 'sooner' or 'later', but 'later' still only looks like about a week. And you'll need to go back to school, probably."

"I'd rather have a say in who than when."

"Right. I have some dossiers for you now of some of the candidates - it would probably be just one parent, as we need you to have another Spirit Bearer for a guardian, but the only Spirit Bearer couple refused to be considered for this. Some of these candidates might get disqualified after they interview with Soothseer, I've marked those." He passes some papers to the officer, who looks through them. Presumably for weapons or something. And then hands them through the bars to Sera.

She reads the dossiers.

Foster Guy does paperwork.

There's half a dozen of them, five women and one man. It's kind of hard to get a sense of them from just the dossiers. This one's over 200 years old. That one has precognition magic. All of them are stable and well-off and have zero criminal history and had at least one kid themselves.

Does 200 year old one look like they have 200 year old morality because she's pretty sure they believed in much worse corporal punishment than spanking back then and even if this one in particular doesn't it could make her nervous at best if their beliefs in general date to that era.

...Probably. She lives in a big old victorian-style place.

That maybe also rules out the 103 year old?

Probably yes.

So who she has left is:

Sandra Liles, a sixty-something architect who uses magic to build her designs directly. One of her daughters still lives with her, being five.

Jun Zhao, a thirty-something member of the Bureau of Menace Management, used for her short-term precognition in dangerous monster fights.

Kent Tower, a former park ranger and current zookeeper whose magic lets him talk to animals, more or less. Noted for especially loving doing shows for small children.

Samara Vasquez, a tenured college professor of physics, also champion in the magical sparring leagues.

These all seem fairly unobjectionable. Are any of them marked for possible disqualification upon talking to Soothsayer?

Samara is. She might have too much work to be able to pay enough attention to Anna-Seraphina herself. Sandra is too - getting Sera to live with a young (nonmagical) girl might not be permitted.

This does not really seem like a downside to Anna-Seraphina but she understands why the adults disagree with her.

Does she get to meet any of these people before making any decisions?

"Oh, definitely. The dossiers were just to give you an idea of who you want to meet and who you definitely don't."

"Probably not the two over a hundred years old unless their values are less...that...than their ages imply. The others seem okay."

"They need to make a reasonable effort to keep up with the times, but there is some, as you say, that."

"I do not think I would mix well with the that."

"We'll strike them from the consideration, then."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Right. Next issue at hand... We want you to see a doctor and psychologist, and we want to list you in the Spirit Bearer records. Not only have you been though terrible things, but magic wants to be used - it's honestly unhealthy to really deny you the ability to use magic now that you have it, so we should figure out how that's going to express itself sooner rather than later."

"I can do the spear thing and a water jet thing."

"That's typical. Your spear will stay the same unless you put time and energy into trying to change it, which I don't recommend you do yet. Not only does this imply that you appreciate violence, which your case really doesn't need, but it's draining on your other abilities. What will be really telling is the next spell you get, after the basic spear summon and elemental attack."

Nod. "I definitely don't want to imply I appreciate violence. When do I get a next spell?"

"After some amount of experience and practice. Doing useful tasks rather than just exercise tends to speed it up. Typically within the first three days."

"Okay. I don't think I'm allowed to do useful things right now."

"Yes, quite. Your case is... A bit complicated, it's slowing things down. Your cooperation is helping a lot, though. If you want I could try and get you time with a volunteer water-user from the Spirit Leagues, see if they have advice for you?"

"That would be nice, if it's not too much trouble."

"I can't guarantee it'll happen, but I'll try to make it so. And do you want to meet with all four of the remaining guardian candidates?"

"If I can yeah."

He writes this down. "Any other questions or concerns at this time? If not, I'll see you in about three hours, Anna-Seraphina."

"Um can I maybe get a book or something while I'm here."

"-Ah. That's a question for the officers. Officer Cooper?"

"Shower and breakfast soon. After that you can spend time in the recreation room if you aren't disruptive, or I can get you something from the facility's library."

"Okay. Thank you."

They leave. She is shown, alone, into a room with a bunch of nondivided showers like a locker room and given a towel and fresh set of clothes in plastic.

They don't explicitly giver her a time limit but it's kind of implied. Officer Cooper keeps referring to her as 'hun', though she uses the right name when she uses a name at all. She doesn't seem malicious about it, just... Anyway.

Being held in prison, even when it's apparently not technically arrest it's still a prison, might actually be a bit familiar? General lack of freedom and privacy - but no insults, no pain, and they mostly leave her alone. Cooper fetches a beat-up library book of whatever rough category is asked for.

The "hun" is kind of unsettling but she doesn't verbally object. She finishes her shower well under the implicit time limit and changes into the fresh clothes. She's not super picky about the book but longer is better than shorter.

The Mountains of Sunset, a long, rambly fantasy novel by an author known for long, rambly fantasy novels.

That'll do.

Her magic starts feeling... Almost stale, when she doesn't use it all morning. It could use a quick stretch. They said repressing her magic was unhealthy.

Can she go out into the exercise yard and practice?

After lunch. We can't rearrange schedules whenever wherever for you, Spirit Bearer or not, Sera.

...She has a sink in her room. Maybe the water jet can be very small?

No she needs to be on her best behavior she will just curl up into a little ball of misery until lunch.

Well, magical emotional feedback doesn't have to be too severe before it will start compounding with things.

Lawyer and Mr. Foster Office Guy show up with lunch, with more officers and more paperwork. "Good afternoon, Miss Sawyer. There were some attempts to have you punished more harshly, but luckily this is being treated as a magical case so they have no authority. You should be out of here tomorrow if you like one of the guardianship candidates."

"Okay."

She carefully represses how shitty she's feeling right now and makes sure to pay careful attention to the lawyer and the foster office guy and not just rush through everything so she can magic sooner.

Isn't paperwork so compelling?

She's formally agreeing to stay under the supervision of the Spirit Bearer Corrections Office for twelve years, reductions possible through good behavior.

"...Have they been treating you okay, Miss Sawyer?"

"Yeah, um, it's just I wanted to do magic and I hafta wait is all."

"Oh, right." Foster guy looks up from his ever-present huge wad of paper. "I can get Miss Tiller-Tide to visit you at two if you like. She volunteers to train new Bearers a fair bit. And the interviews with candidates starting at four, if both of those times are acceptable?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Scribble scribble. Read read. Sign sign.

And now she has a cold lunch and then she can go outside for exercise again.

Okay, then she will hurriedly eat her cold lunch and then go outside!

Where everyone kind of avoids her again - though it's all women this time.

A few of the toughest-looking of them make a point of not ignoring her, continuing their jogging on a course not fifteen feet away from her, nodding at her when they pass.

...She is not sure what to do with that! She will nod back.

Spirit Bearers are kind of obvious! And not someone to mess with trivially.

Anyway she should totally practice magic. Maybe use the spear?

...Maybe? Water's probably safer.

Sure just the water thing is fine. Not a lot of variety though. She can aim it and vary the power/size of the jet and that's about it.

She would like to see if she can get it little and weak enough that she can be confident in being able to do a little magic while washing her hands without getting caught.

Well, if she specifically practices that, she can manage it. Small enough that if she messes up it could reasonably be a spill and not magic.

She will specifically practice that. It is useful.

Her spark glows warm when she feels satisfaction about meeting this goal.

2 pm arrives: Her visitor is here but she can't meet them in the yard, follow to the very plain meeting room please.

She will do this! She is a little bit less subdued than normal because of the warm glow.

Her visitor is a tall woman with a sort of staff thing, and an outfit themed on ocean. 

"Anna-Seraphina, correct? How is your magic treating you so far?"

"Yes, that's me," she nods. "...It makes me feel less afraid."

She nods. "It does that. Embrace that feeling. Not many know this, but feeling safe and happy is a critical health requirement for us."

"...Oh. What happens if you can't get all the way to feeling happy and safe?"

"You will fade away. Turn into a ghost. It takes quite some time, though, and no matter how you got here... Magical girls, and boys, help each other out, you hear me?"

"Okay. Does that mean once I'm not here anymore I don't have to turn back as much? It feels bad."

"Yeah, probation is more like... Not going unsupervised, them knowing where you are and stopping you from doing 'bad' things. And community service. You'll have plenty of time to use magic. Do you want to show me now? I can clean up anything you do, since you're water."

"Okay. Um, I can get it really little, now, should I start there?"

"Oh, so you're already practicing. Good, do show."

She shows her how little she can get it.

"Hm... Decent control. Can you change the speed? Same size, but higher arc, more force."

...It's probably really hard to, this early.

"I wasn't trying for that, but..." she tries it. It does not go right. She tries again.

"It's difficult at first... I think playing target practice would benefit you."

"I can only practice out in the yard and there's other people there and I don't wanna scare them."

"You can practice here once I set up... If that's alright, officers?" She looks at the camera in the corner. "Yes, I'll pay if anything is damaged. Okay then."

And waves of blue peel off her staff, covering the room's walls. It's like they're deep underwater. Then a lighter patch appears.

"I should aim for that?"

"Yep!"

She aims for that. Water!

It moves! Which makes her miss.

"Most anything worth shooting at won't stand still for you."

...Annoying but true. She tries again.

She glances it before it jinks again.

Progress! Again!

Tiller-Tide progresses the difficulty steadily. It shouldn't be easy. But as long as Sera is having fun... Or twenty minutes, whichever comes first.

As long as she is noticeably improving she will have fun!

Sure. But soon the effect recedes, drawing back into her staff. "That's probably enough for now. It was fun but I gotta go soon."

"Okay. Thank you!"

"Oh hey, two good bouts of practice is about right for your first spell past the basics. Feel anything?"

..If there is anything, which maybe, it's a thing that needs her to touch something.

"...Maybe? I think I need to touch something."

"Okay, best not to try it out on their furniture." She calls up the weird magic again, but just on one wall. 

She touches the wall.

When her hand comes away it brings a thin blue line of light. Doesn't seem to do anything else. She can still touch a thing and do a thing.

"Umm I think I'm supposed to touch another thing?"

"Hm..." She summons up a little glass disk.

She touches the disc.

The line sticks there, now it's a line between that point on the wall and the disk. And it does nothing else.

"...So I can do that, I guess."

"It should have... Something else. Can you sense it at all?"

"No..."

"Try moving it? Wait..."

Snap! She suddenly has a crystal clear image of Tiller-Tide reaching through the glowing line in her head. She knows exactly where the other person is, how she was moving at the time. The line disappears.

"Oh! I got a thing, I got a perfect picture of you and where you were and how you were moving when you broke it."

"Trip wire. Interesting. Seems like you might get surveillance or area-control type spells as you advance, then."

"Better than, like, hitting stuff."

"Hey, if hitting stuff works..."

"Yeah but--people would worry more if I got hitting-stuff magic, I think. Because of--my situation."

"I don't think it would be, so much? Being a spirit bearer at all already up ends all the expectations. Reminds me though... If a reporter somehow finds you say 'no comment' until they give up and reference the ruling of Daily Word vs Pawprint if they are too extreme. Reporters be trying to eat your story alive. And now I really do have to go."

"Okay. Thank you for everything."

"I'd love to see you in the sparring matches when all the police stuff is worked out. Bye!"

"Bye!"

Back to her room, then. That fantasy novel awaits. Her magic is steady, satisfied, now.

Good. She will read the fantasy novel until it is time for the next thing.

Foster guy! "Good afternoon, Sera. I have interviews arranged for you. Though ironically enough, Jun, the precognitive, couldn't make it here today."

"That is kind of ironic," she acknowledges.

"I've also finally convinced them to let our psychologist in. If you want to see one later. Sessions might be mandatory later depending on how you seem to be holding up, but they are not for now. Though in my experience, talking to a psychologist can't hurt."

"Um, maybe. Not--not right now, I don't think, but--maybe later. When I've had more time to, to adjust."

"Sure. Big adjustment. Let's go meet the three who could come, then?"

"Yeah, okay."

Meeting room!

One at a time it is, apparently, as a tall Hispanic woman comes in. Introductions happen. 

Samara Vasquez says, "I am surprised the police have not been treating you more harshly, to be honest. It's the sort of thing you hear tales about."

"Oh. Um, I've been--trying to be nice. And not. Tempt them to do anything."

"Perhaps they decided to uphold the values of truth, equality, and justice despite their personal biases. Or more likely, they're afraid of the political consequences."

"That--did also occur to me. Soothsayer seemed--upset, about the system that--put me with them."

"It's... A government bureaucracy. They're very good at some things and very bad at some other things. Same with university bureaucrats. The system you're about to head into is much more transparent. With magic, you're dangerous. A lot of people will be watching you, I hope you're prepared for that no matter how this meeting goes."

"If more people had been watching me before maybe my foster parents wouldn't have been able to keep doing stuff to me."

"A good thing from your perspective then. But enough about that." She smirks. "We are supposed to be seeing if we will get along. Anna-Seraphina, do you like science?"

She thinks about it. "Yes," she says after a moment.

Samara tries to assess Anna-Seraphina's level of science knowledge. She is enthusiastic, and seems to be a pretty good teacher. Though used to teaching college students.

Anna-Seraphina's level of science knowledge is above average for a fourteen-year-old girl but not extraordinarily so.

Good!

"-Ah, but if they and you choose me we may not see as much of each other as one might prefer, unless you want to help with my research. I take pride in my teaching, but good lessons take time to plan."

Shrug. "I don't really remember what it's like to want my guardians around, I was pretty little when my birth parents died."

That causes a complicated face. She can't help but feel sympathetic. Samara fights the urge to pat Sera's shoulder or something, but she also recalls why she's here.

"...Well then, perhaps we would be a decent pair if the vagaries of bureaucracy don't make that impossible."

Nod. "I should talk to the others too, though, I don't wanna--just go with you because you're nice and I don't really have higher expectations than nice."

"Well I try to treat every student I see as a responsible adult. I do believe I applied the same pattern to you. And, I would feel a bit insulted if you didn't."

Nod nod.

"That's that, then? Good afternoon, Miss Sawyer. I'll ask them to send Mr. Tower in on the way out, no need to get up."

"Okay. Thank you."

Mr. Tower comes in, smiling broadly. He smells like a zoo.

"Hello! I've been told to call you Anna-Seraphina and definitely not just the first bit, right?"

"Yeah. If you can't do the whole thing Sera is okay but I like the whole thing better."

"Can do. Okay, so I'm Kent Tower, and you've probably heard I do a lot of work as a zookeeper. I know some folk don't like animals too much... Well, I take care of lots of them, so if you're not too fond of critters or allergic to any of them - wait doesn't that go away because of the magic? Anyway. Life with me will involve spending time with animals. Just putting that out there so it's in no way shape or form a surprise."

"I guess I don't know if I like animals or not. I've never had a pet or anything."

He tilts his head and laughs. "To me, that's almost like saying 'I've never played on the playground or seen a TV or anything'. I didn't bring anyone with me who you could get to know, though. Wasn't sure they'd let me."

"That makes sense," she nods.

He pauses, waiting for her to go on, but when she doesn't, "Animals can be great friends as long as you make an effort to understand them and treat them with kindness. I don't command them, you know. At least, not the real ones. The energy-animals I can make, I command. But real ones, I talk to them. I've worked in abused pet shelters you know." Pause. "It's why I volunteered when you happened. A dog that bites a human is put down almost all of the time. But it's not her fault. She doesn't know any better..."

"I--thank you."

Pause.

"What are some animals you know like?"

He can go into quite a bit of detail on this!

Birds are especially sensitive to sudden movement, and his sparrows are very much soothed when someone moves smoothly around them. Cats need to get used to you before liking even being directly looked at, and tend to not play well with other animals unless they already feel safe somewhere. His favorite goat, Yamul, always jumps in excitement when Kent brings a new animal into the rescue center... And so on and so forth. His explanatory patter feels tuned for grade school, but he clearly loves this kind of thing.

It's nice. She pays careful attention.

He sticks to domestic animals at first, but runs out of those soon enough. His attitude toward predation is a grimace and a shrug. "It's nature. What's a lion gonna do? I do prefer herbivores, though."

Eventually the foster guy gently suggests that they can probably talk more later and Sandra Liles is waiting patiently for her interview.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I wasn't looking at a clock..."

"Me neither. Eh. My fault for rambling on so long. Maybe I can show you the shelter and the zoo even if there's no guardianship some day, Ser- Anna-Seraphina."

"Maybe."

There is the sound of arguing from outside.

The guy from the foster office comes in after a couple of minutes. "Er... Sandra Liles has, um, removed herself from consideration."

"...Oh. Okay."

He'd probably explain if she asked. But she's pretty clearly not asking.

"The officers say it's time to go back to the holding area for now, Miss Sawyer. Exercise at eight P.M. if you want it. Either Mr. Tower or Miss Vasquez could take you in as early as tomorrow - and while you can express a preference the decision is not entirely in your or my hands, unfortunately."

"They're both okay. ...I think I liked Mr. Tower better, though."

"And Jun is out because she took an injury fighting a Troll today. She should be fine, but since she'll be recovering... I'll make a note about Kent Tower, though. Have as nice a day as you can manage, Anna-Seraphina."

"Thank you."

Back to her mediocre fantasy novel, then, presumably.

Yeah. Until...dinner, presumably, and she definitely wants the 8 pm exercise.

She can have 8 PM exercise. It's not outside this time because it's raining, they take her to a gym instead.

...She should probably not generate large quantities of water inside the gym! Okay, now she can let her spear out and see if she can remember much of use from gym class.

Um.

Can she give it a blunt practice end please?

(She cannot, yet.)

...No that is not a thing she can do she has been able to do this at all for like a day? Do they want her to do the water thing instead that seemed like a bad idea but if they're not comfortable with the spear...or maybe there's some kind of foam cover she could put on it? Or something?

'Sharp things plus prisoner' seems to be the wariness, here.

Use one of the wooden practice spears on the rack in the corner. Or at least stay far away and pointed away from everyone while she does her exercises. Please.

But the wooden practice spears aren't magic, the point is doing magic. She will happily stay far away and pointed in the other direction from everyone else.

Then the officers watching her specifically will only glance around nervously a lot, instead of looking like they want to reach for their tasers, while she goes through practice moves.

...One of the other prisoners pauses her weight-lifting and shouts corrections to her stance.

"Thank you!" she calls back, and corrects her stance.

The weight-lifter nods, satisfied. "Used to be a soujutsu instructor. Would've bothered me all night if I didn't say anything."

"Still." She is really not comfortable with how uncomfortable the guards are with her, but: magic. She will continue in this vein until something else happens or she is told her time is up.

Using the spear is really different than the water, or her new tripwire trick. It's... Steady. Almost passive. Like a rod of magical power that stands ready to do something but never actually does, since practice exercises don't call for her to actually hit things.

It doesn't bend like wooden spears should - but it's not nearly heavy enough to be metal. Eh, it's magic. And getting the practice motions down again does a little for the state of her magic in addition to being oddly easy.

Time's up at 9 PM. Optional shower if she wants it, lights-out at 10.

She will shower. ...She needs to be naked to shower, which means she can't have her magical girl clothes on which means she can't do small amounts of water magic covered by the shower. Oh well, she will shower anyway.

And then sleep and then have breakfast and shower again in the morning and then Foster Guy comes back with papers telling the police to release her to the guardianship of Kent Tower.

"Unfortunately you won't be allowed to go out and about on your own at first. Not without informing someone of the plan. They think you're a flight risk. Mr. Tower has the details. Of course, you can tell me at any time if anything is wrong here, and there'll be regular check-ins." He hands over a business card. "This is my private number."

She nods seriously and tucks the card in a pocket.

"You'll also be heading back to school starting on Monday. We've moved you to a different school, in the probably-useless hope that the students there won't recognize you."

Sigh. "Yeah."

"Shall we go see Mr. Tower, then?"

"Yeah."

They go meet him. He has a dog with him today - maybe two feet tall. It's staying near Kent but sniffing at everything, tail wagging. He waves, "Hello again, Anna-Seraphina. Guess they picked me."

"Mhm."

"This little guy is Bernie. He needed some exercise so I thought, why not? Brought him along."

Nod. "How do I, um, interact with him? Say hello?"

He laughs. "Dogs are easy. Say hello, smile, let him sniff you. Scratch the back of his head if you want."

"Mr. Tower, there is some paperwork to take care of..."

"Bring it over, then."

She crouches in front of the dog. "Hello," she says, smiling hesitantly.

Bernie the dog tries to lick her face.

"Well-socialized dogs like Bernie, you can just go right up to most of the time, but it depends on the specific dog. I'll give you tips before you meet any less friendly dogs. Watch the tail. Wagging is happy and playful. Pointing down is scared, if a dog's scared best to just leave him alone."

"That makes sense."

"Mr. Tower, the paperwork."

"Oh, fine. Give it here." He starts doing paperwork. "I think they have boxes recovered from your house if you want to go through them for personal belongings."

"Oh--yeah, that'd be. Good."

"The genie did a lot of damage on its way out. And much of it is being claimed by - relatives - as family propery. I'll bring the boxes to Mr. Tower's home some time tomorrow."

"Okay. Thank you."

Bernie the dog seems to be bored of getting scratched. He squirms away from Anna-Seraphina and makes a plaintive noise toward Kent Tower. "Just a minute, bud. We can go run some more when I'm done with this." And he lets out a sharp snuff of air. "Anna-Seraphina, do you like running? Outdoors in general. Bernie wants to know if you'll be, eh, fun to play with."

"Outdoors is nice. I don't love running but I don't hate it, either."

"His head is basically play play play, food food food, sleep sleep sleep, oh boy the human is back. At least when there's nothing threatening around. A lot of dogs are like that - domestication, eh?"

Shrug. "I wouldn't really know."

"Most animals have simple wants and needs, and are not very smart compared to humans. Smarter than you might think though."

"I don't think I have a lot of preconceptions about how smart animals are...crows and pigs are supposed to be pretty smart?"

"Pigs are definitely pretty smart... Crows I haven't interacted with much. Birds in general are very, heh, flighty."

"I think I read some stuff about them being clever about stealing stuff."

"I can see that. Pigs too, they'll actually lie to each other, it's fascinating - but intelligence is a whole lot of things stuck together, not one single thing. I think nothing but humans will discuss abstract ideas or do math."

"Is it even possible to discuss abstract ideas without language?"

"Not really. Some of the researchers I talked to say flexible, abstract language is what really kickstarted human development - also that we needed a highly social mind to work with language in the first place. The kind that pigs and dolphins and," he looks suddenly uncomfortable, "A lot of apes and so on have."

"...You okay?"

"I just find talking about nonhuman Hominids tiresome. It's all the press talks about when they get interested in me again. Yes, they're almost as smart as humans. No, I would not like to decide if they count as people. Yes, you should still treat them with respect. No, they're not going to have an uprising and kill us all like in that awful movie."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says sympathetically.

"It's alright. I brought it up, this time."

Paperwork, paperwork...

She will sit quietly while paperwork.

And then the man, the girl, and the dog will head outside and walk through the parking lot. "I got a favor from one of the detectives for some training work on police dogs - they threatened to arrest all the reporters until they cleared off, so we can get to the van in peace."

The van is broadly emblazoned with a stylized image of the ridiculous animal-pattern safari-style coat and cargo pants he has for a magic costume and 'Pawprint's Animal Training, Talking, and Rescue'.

"Oh, wow, thank you," she says. Reporters do not sound like something she wants to deal with.

The van, predictably, smells like animals. He settles Bernie in what looks to be a special dog-seat in the back before starting towards the highway. "I know the feeling. Worth it to talk to them sometimes - but only on your terms."

"I haven't the foggiest idea what I'd say."

"For me, I'd be trying to drum up support and donations for the rescue part of the whole organization. Dottie knows more about business than me, though. She's technically my boss even though I do almost everything in our little company." He seems amused at this fact. "A good administrator is worth a lot. Lets me focus on what really matters."

"I don't really have anything like that to talk about."

"Makes sense. I would imagine trying to get people to be more aware of problems like yours for other people, but if you don't want to get involved that's that."

"I don't really wanna make people more aware of the fact that I killed them."

"Yeaaaah. I can't see any good coming from that. However justified or reasonable it was under the circumstances. One of the mayoral candidates was trying to- Nevermind. Actually, you know how you're required to do some community service? Because of the whole probation thing. That'll start when you have a couple more spells probably. You'll need to talk to someone about it, decide what you'll be doing. Won't be more than a few hours a week at first, so I hear."

"...What was the mayoral candidate trying to do?"

"Have you. Um. Get the death penalty."

Sigh. "That's what the lawyer said would happen if I didn't plea bargain."

"I don't understand the details, but they said it would be reversing the plea bargain and forcing you into a full trial anyway. But also that's probably not going to happen unless you get into criminal trouble again."

"Is reversing a plea-bargain a thing you can do?"

"It's all very complicated. You should see that public defender again... I could certainly ask the company lawyer, or some proper criminal lawyer, for you. Though I gather plea bargain reversals are usually done by the accused, and rare even then."

"Yeah, okay."

He hands off his cell phone to her. "Could ya find Dottie in my texts and ask her to find a criminal lawyer? It can wait but I don't want to forget."

She nods and does this.

Dottie texts back immediately, saying she already has a lot of relevant information and an arrangement for further questions. "Just reply 'ok'. I'll talk to her when we get there. Thanks."

She does as instructed.

Kent hums as he drives. He leaves the radio off.

"You have a favorite kind of animal?"

"...Songbirds?"

This prompts rambling about the songbirds of the north-eastern part of the United States and which ones are most active around this time of the year.

...Okay, that's actually really interesting!

It will cover the forty five minute trip further away from the city quite nicely then.

There are still houses and shops out here, especially near the freeway entrance, but there are also farms and wide forested areas.

...The forested areas are pretty.

"There's some good hiking trails around here. I can show you later. Make sure to - hm. You don't need to bring water, do you? Bring food, then, in case you get lost."

"Well, I should at least bring something to drink water out of, trying to use my magic like a drinking fountain sounds messy at best."

"Yeah. You can probably manage it sooner or later - most folk get pretty good with their basic element after a while. Watch this..." A rock-man forms from the unassuming lump of stone that had been sitting on the van's dashboard, and waves at her.

"Aww!"

It claps its hands and does a little dance. Then it grows stilt-legs and morphs into the shape of a bird.

And then it sits down, head against the stone feathers, and rests in that shape. "Should really focus on driving, sorry."

"Ooh, yeah."

"I can talk and drive, but magic takes a lot more focus. We're almost there now, though."

"Okay."

Pawprint's house is on the edge of a large town, though urban sprawl makes the definition of a 'town' a little vague. And practically next door to a large building labelled 'veterinarian office, rescue & adoption center'.

That makes sense.

Here is her room, which appears to be a hastily converted office. It has a door that locks from the inside.

Here are a bunch of cats who are curious about her, and another dog. "No, she doesn't have food for you, Cobalt."

"Which one's Cobalt?"

"The grey, cantankerous old tomcat here."

He gestures affectionately at him. "You'll get your food when I have dinner as always, relax."

"What are the other ones' names?"

"Softy," an orange, sneaky-looking cat, "Gerald," a tabby of some kind. The most nervous-looking one is, "Wander, he just visits me once in a while, doesn't stay." And the dog, apparently, is 'Snowball'. Despite not being white-furred.

"Why is he named Snowball?"

"Hah, well we found him rolling around like crazy in the snow with Bernie. He was just put out on the street from someone stopping off the highway, from what I could get from him. I'm not sure why - he's friendly, a good people-dog, but his owners just dropped him. And nobody wanted to adopt him either."

"Huh. Do you know why not?"

"He was an adult already, which might be it. Puppies have a much better chance of getting adopted. They're cute."

"Aren't they a lot messier, though?"

He shrugs. "People who go out looking for a pet aren't necessarily looking for one that's easy to care for, I guess. I usually talk up the ones that are already trained... But people say it's not the same, and I think they think unadopted adult dogs have something wrong with them, lurking until it will get let out as a nasty surprise."

"...Okay."

He nods. "Yeah. So... Anything in particular you want right now?"

"...Is there...anything for me to do?"

"You mean, chores? I'll decide later. If you mean games and so on I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint. Never been a big fan of those. There's a pond out back if you want to practice your magic, though."

"Pond's good. I meant--like either, but less games than books."

"I've got a few books. We can go to the library later. Department store or something too - no idea what all you need, I don't think about that stuff too often." He snorts. "Wouldn't surprise me if Dottie already made a list. You probably need more than one set of clothes, though, even if they're gonna bring what they could get from the house tomorrow."

"Yeah...and, um, a pharmacy or something. For, uh. Girl. Biology. Stuff."

He looks confused for a moment and then, "Right, sure. Now? Want me to help rearrange the furniture in there first or something?"

"Not now," she clarifies, "just, sometime in the next few weeks. And it would be bad to forget."

"No, no, that was a 'let's do this today, should we go back to the car or have dinner or something first'. I expect you would have mentioned earlier if it was now-now."

"...I would like dinner."

"Sure. Stir-fry sound okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

He shows her the books - almost all nonfiction - and starts whipping up stir-fry.

Cobalt the cat, and Snowball if not Bernie, are still interested in her.

Sheeee will tentatively introduce herself to Snowball?

Snowball is a lot more pettable than Bernie! He practically preens when she pets him, and nudges her hand energetically with his nose if she stops.

Okay. Snowball pets.

Pets are best thing!!

Cobalt the cat is more interested in the scent of cooking, and wanders into the kitchen.

Cooking will last maybe twenty minutes, she might not want to pet Snowball the whole time, and he does give up after a little while when she decides to stop.