I was expecting to land on something soft. Maybe an awning, a pile of refuse, a puddle of water, anything,. That was how it worked, right? In stories, the hero would face certain death and then find themselves saved just in the nick of time by mysterious circumstance. I was no hero. Instead my body hit solid ground. Rough round cobblestones greeted my body; the shock came first, then the pain, then the garbled, muted scream that barely escaped my lips through a crushed windpipe. Rib cage shattered, left arm twisted and malformed, knee caps cracked.

Have you ever looked over the edge of your life and pressed the rewind button in your brain? Just looking back at the things you might have done, could have accomplished, or conquered like a battalion on a literal battlefield of life? I’m pretty sure the general in charge of my life was either asleep at the morning briefing or he was annihilated and no one informed me as I ran up and over the hill into the line of fire.

Charia is the head councilwoman of the Central Witch Council. An organization that keeps mundanes unaware that magic exists.
Today is the review day. She and other council members are apprised of recent misuses of magic by agents working for the council.
However, this meeting derails as more and more cases appear to be connected.

Another slow, boring day at work. The corporate drone in the meeting Natalie just left had been going on for hours about a bunch of stuff she didn’t remotely care for. What was the meeting even about anyway? It had just ended and already she couldn’t recall.

At least her lunch break had arrived so she could openly drown in her sorrows in the worker’s lounge. She hadn’t actually brought a lunch, eating would require a level of effort and commitment that she, at the moment, wasn’t able to uphold. She hadn’t eaten breakfast either, she simply couldn’t eat at all.