Floating in an endless abyss, all sense of touch, noise, scent and sight a foreign afterthought.

Newt floated there, conscious yet not coherent enough to form thought, aware, yet unaware.

Unknown amount of time passes as Newt can feel himself growing.

"$#!$#! $@#$ ! @#$ !@# @#"

A familiar sound, a voice? Newt thought.

A growing light appears in the distance, glowing brighter and brighter.

Colour become visible, illuminated by the light.

Newt tightly shuts his eyes as the light is blinding.

Overwhelming drowsiness hits Newt like a truck, or more aptly a car.

Consciousness fades...

****

(Pov Change: Cynthia)

FWIP FWIP

Flipping through a scripture of the past, translating, taking notes, killing time.

Knock Knock Knock

"About time!" A women angrily gets up and greets her guest.

"Cynthia! No time to explain, we gotta go! Pack essentials we're leaving for Aslex!" The man rushes in drops off a package and continues, "I'll be waiting outside, we have around 5 minutes till this place is swarmed with those holy pricks." He says with spite.

"I've already packed up, lets go." Cynthia calmly explains, "Alright the-Wait a minute, did you FUCKING KNOW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?!" the panicking man screams, drawing attention from nearby pedestrians.

A sigh escapes Cynthia as she mumbles, "Knew this was going to happen." as she flares up her mana, a magic circle appears at her open palm as she places it onto the man's face.

The man's face morphs from furious to blank, eyes glazed, Cynthia commands, "Go distract the church.".

The man frantically runs off making as much noise possible.

"Well that's one problem down." She says as she walks towards a caravan.

"Excuse me? Where is this caravan going?"

"Aslex." A burly man says without bothering to look at Cynthia.

"How much would it cost to tag along?"

"4 Silver 20 Bronze."

What a fucking ripoff.

"I'll make it 10 silver if we leave immediately."

"Deal!"

The old man smiles as the rest of the group pack up and prepare to leave.

"Hey Johnny we leaving yet?" another man yells out towards the old man, who responds with a nod.

Gods damnit.

She sighs in frustration as the leader yells out their departure and the snap of the reins against the horses starts their journey, or in Cynthia's case, an escape.

"Mandatory individual check." A guard says halting the caravan's movement coming to a stop right at the gate.

"Individual check?! Since when?!" The old caravan leader yells in confusion.

"Ever since 20 minutes ago when some lunatics stole from the Holy Church of Idas!" Shock replaces confusion on the caravan leaders wrinkled face.

"Gladly! Check everyone here for the suspects, 'Jimmies Delivery and transportation Caravan' would never house criminals!" He says with a grin and a slight glint in his eye as all his caravan members groan in frustration, with the exception of Cynthia who is nowhere to be seen.

"Isn't this a caravan? How would you house them?" The guard mumbles, catching a glimpse of a black cloak slipping down an alley.

****

"Gods damn it!" Cynthia curses as she sprints down the many streets and enters the slums, catching glances wherever she goes as her soft silky black hair and pristine clothing barely covered by a shabby cloak.

Finding a shabby small barely standing house more akin to a hut with 2 small rooms, and a semi big stick that had shattered on entry to block, or at least attempt to, block the door. However it was placed from the inside, how did the piece get placed so that (if it were stronger) it would block the 1 way openable door from opening?

Cynthia freezes and quietly looks towards the second room, noticing a trail of blood leading into it. The room illuminated with bits of light coming through the ceiling and walls as it illuminates a small child.

Its short and shallow breaths hypnotically causing its chest to elevate and descend, rich black hair seeming to suck in the light from the surroundings and a small malnutrition body covered in bruises, and then Cynthia sees it, a light stab wound, hitting nothing vital, and the rags it wore soaking most of the blood, however for a child of its size, it could prove fatal.

Instead of panicking or worrying about the child, she sees an opportunity.

”Kid wake up, wake up!” The small kid jerks awake in fear and confusion before wincing at his wound.

“Kid, if you do what I say, I’ll save your life and house you, otherwise you’ll bleed out and die.”

Cynthia said to the still dazed child.

After a couple minutes of waiting for a response the child finally agrees with a nod.

“Okay, your going to pretend I’m your alcoholic mother who abuses you, your father you never met, I’m going to pretend that I’m pretending that you got your injuries from falling down some stairs, hinting I abused you, call me Mother or Agatha, Mother when around others. Capiche?”

She questions the young boy as she cuts her long hair short, the boy understands and nods.

“Alright kid, what’s your name?”

The kid instinctively replied, “Al-…Newt, call me Newt.”

"Fantastic, take this." Cynthia tosses Newt a vial with red liquid. "Drink half and pour the rest on your wound."

"Just call me mother." Cynthia reached into a pouch and pulled out a small artifact, sending mana into it. Its effects taking place immediately, her facial bone structure changing instantly, with the small bizarre artifact cracking and crumbling apart, which causing Cynthia to grimace before returning her gaze to her 'son' "We should have a bit befor-" *Knock Knock SMASH

The sound of someone knocking on a part of the door holding together the door. Until it broke under the force of 3 knocks.

"Inspection!"

"Oh for fu-Heylo sir what can me and uhhhh my son do for you?" Cynthia said drunkenly aloud whilst cursing internally.

"We're searching for a women with long black hair, in her mid 30s and has classified information from the Holy Church. This is a sketch of her" The guard says holding up a piece of paper with a sketch identical to Cynthia whilst scanning her and noticing similarities but different face structure, "and your name is?"

"Margarette and dis is my waste of moneh." She says as she forcefully pulls Newt in front of the guard

"Is that so..." The guard suspiciously replies while writing down something.

"Sorry for interrupting, Ma'am. If you find anyone with this description then please inform us."

"Yis, iz theer a reeward for dem?"

"Yes Ma'am."