Author's note: This is a side-story taking place around the time of The Dragon Bracelet -- Part 2. You don't need to have read The Dragon Bracelet, but it will provide some context.
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The hunter slowly let the smoke from his cigar fill his mouth, allowed it to linger and savored the taste of the tobacco. A slowly cooling half-full mug of cheap Earl Gray sat on the windowsill. It was a crappy apartment, but that was no excuse to not buy proper tea. Letting the smoke out with a long breath, the man refocused on his surveillance of the apartment building on the other side of the street.
He was a tall and quite skinny man, tanned skin with shaved hair to hide his early balding. He had given up on his hair in his mid-twenties, preferring to keep it shaved rather than desperately keeping hold of what was so obviously to everyone, already out the door and heading down the highway. Now he was in his late thirties, with a thick brown beard covering much of his face and dark brown eyes. Clad in a gray suit with the enchanted wolf-head lapel pin of his order. His name was Henry Wilton, Mage Hunter of the US Anti-Magic Division.
Down at the street level a 6'2 man was leaving his apartment building. Cleanshaven, well-dressed with everyone on the street around him, subconsciously stepping to the side for him. That was his suspect, Hakon Vidje. Resident of New York City, Founder and chief of the American branch of a Norwegian Software Company. Most likely he was the source of the arcane disturbance that had alerted the higher ups in Minnesota. Sighing, he took the half-burnt Cuban and gave it to the owner of the apartment, if he couldn't finish it someone should after all. The resident didn't think much of it as he accepted the cigar and started smoking it, continuing to read his newspaper.
The nature of one of Wilton's enchantments was that people without magic didn't pay attention to his presence and their minds made excuses for whatever happened. It was not a problem free enchantment, if a fight broke out and civilians got hurt, occasionally innocents would take the blame, their mind fabricating false pretenses in order to fit the event. But it was crucial in keeping the knowledge of magical powers hidden from the populace.
Out on the street he followed the Norwegian several yards behind, not wanting to get to close. If it was as he suspected that the man had bonded with a Dragon, Wilton was not interested in combating him. The sealers would deal with him soon enough, it was only a couple of hours until their debriefing at the Riverside Blvd sanctuary. Meanwhile, he followed and watched. The man stopped briefly in front of a pawn shop, Earnie Brothers, looking in through the window intently and then continuing towards his office.
Wilton could not sense anything magical from the pawn shop, but considering the man had stopped there every day he had been under surveillance meant that it could be significant. He had watched the office enough Wilton figured, if he was going to diverge from his suspect later in the day anyway, he may as well investigate the pawn shop. Crossing the street, he walked into the lit shop.
It only took one step into the building to sense the presence of magic everywhere in the room, the only shadow in the onslaught of all kinds of magical sources was a short and stocky man sitting behind the counter, reading what looked like one of those Japanese comics. The man looked up at him, placed a thumb between the pages and sighed.
"Now you've done it Mage Hunter, uncle had a more merciful plan in mind for you." Wilton was ready to turn and run, but the door had shut behind him. He felt around for the door handle, yet when he found it, he was unable to turn it. Turning around he threw his entire weight on it, yet nothing.
"I wouldn't bother if I were you, you are in our Realm now. The rules of this space will not allow you to leave." The man behind the counter said, reclining back on his chair and focusing on his comic once more. "That is also why Hakon can't find the shop, very nice guy though, I look forward to watching him grow."
"Realm-magic and you seem to know about the Dragon... Alright fucker, you are going to tell me how to get out of here." Forming the sign of the doe with his left hand and interlocking it with the squid in his right. Winston manifested silvery tendrils into the air, quickly surrounding the cashier, whom while seemingly unconcerned about the Soul-magic, this time at least stood up before closing the comic and putting it on the counter.
"Well, this is a pawn shop Mage Hunter. Buy or sell something."
"You have created a Realm in the heart of Manhattan to force people to buy or sell things!? That's like Oppenheimer creating the nuclear bomb and dropping it in a lake to get some fish." Winston looked around, he had summoned his Soul Tendrils without being hindered by the Realm-magic, but even with them he could feel sweat gather on his back as his heart pounded fast and loud.
"This Realm is a lot more than a place to just buy and sell things, but you wanted to know how to leave. That is the simplest way. I would highly suggest selling me your knowledge."
"My knowledge? My Arcane knowledge? I am Anti-Magic Division; you know I cannot do that."
"Your decision Mage Hunter, you can always buy something. As you can sense, this shop is home to all kind of magics. Whatever you buy, is bound to be life altering, that is the Earnie Brothers guarantee."
"I should impound all of this, arrest and have you purged." Heart still racing, he looked around the store. Eyes darting between the items and this unknown man without magical energy. Tendrils still looming in the air, ready to ensnare the man's soul. "Fine, I'll bite. How much for..." eyes darting around he saw a harmonica, an amber ring, a music box, a hand mirror and a black knight from a chessboard. "The music box."
It was strange eying the hundreds of items on display in the shop, every one of them magical and tugging at his inner self. Wanting to be bought, to be possessed and used. Freed from this realm and ready to make the world change around them. The music box, on the other hand, he could barely feel. It was like a memory of a thought he had forgotten the content of. It piqued his interest and also seemed by far the least dangerous items of the lot. It was simply adorned, cherrywood he was willing to guess, painted on its sides a pine forest half-hidden in fog. The inside covered in fog, with the shape of what might be a person vaguely outlined in the mist.
"Excellent choice Mage Hunter. You can put those away if you don't mind, I do not harm my customers or others in general... Anyway, that will be 50$, cash or card?"
Wilton released the tendrils as he took out his wallet and paid with his American Express, the man behind the counter gently took out the box, closing the lid, with a satisfying click. "Now this here is a very nifty little box, when you want to listen to it simply turn this key two turns to the right and it will start to play."
Taking the box in hand, Wilton quickly backed away towards the door and breathed out in relief as the handle turned and he was let out onto the street. Still sweating from the encounter his shirt had started to dampen and he hastily called a cab to take him to Riverside Blvd. Shuddering, he focused on the painted foggy woodland of the music box wondering just what artifact he had purchased.
Most Arcane artifacts had been sealed away by guardians or used by various institutions to study or to combat illegitimate magical usage. Yet in Manhattan, unknown to the AMD a Realm had been created where magics were bought and sold. It was illegal and highly dangerous. It made sense now how a Dragon had appeared in New York. The higher ups needed to be informed, the Realm sealed and the Dragon dealt with. Not to mention the Magi strong enough to utilize Realm-magic. The curly haired man was clearly not the Magi, Wilton had not felt an ounce of magic from the man, rather an absence.
Placing a palm against his sweaty forehead he leaned back towards the seat, other hand still on the music box. He was curious about it, artificing was not a skill he possessed and as such he had no real way of telling the object's purpose. Other than playing music, which he was willing to bet that it actually did. He knew he should not investigate it; it was outside of his area and the AMD was very strict in regards to what its agents were allowed to learn. Mage Hunters were given magical enchantments for stealth and protection against magic and non-magic, as well as powerful weapons to hunt down and subdue unlawful magic-users. But his enchantments should hold up if it proved dangerous, particularly in the sanctuary.
Combating these thoughts Wilton rode the elevator to the sub-basement that was the AMD Riverside Blvd sanctuary. It was a very spartan looking area, a lounge with a couple of leather sofas, small kitchen to the side and a dorm room with a number of bunkbeds for agents needing a place to crash. Woven into the walls were layers of protective spells that would overwrite any illusions and prevent magic cast from those without the mark of the Wolf.
With quick steps Wilton entered the sanctuary, he hadn't been in this one before, though most were very similar. Underground, smelling of burnt sage and nettles and often slightly to warm. Most of this was true for this place, one difference he did appreciate was the slight fragrance of elderflower as if to mask the sage and nettle, it was a good change from the other sanctuaries. The warmth on the other hand didn't help as he was reminded of the sweat soaked back of his shirt. Shrugging he took of his coat and shirt, letting the shirt air dry against one of the sofas. He sat down and with the music box in his knee, he ignored the voice telling him not to turn the key.
