Chapter 1
He had definetly seen something moving in the darkness. The hallway was lacking in lighting, considering it was very late; the consequence of this though was that the probability of something lurking behind him were very low. Except for the fact that he was absolutely and adamantly sure that something had, in fact, moved behind him. There was no other option but to turn himself and face the horror. He didn't actually expect to find something. To his unpleasant surprise, he catched the presence of a pair of china blue eyes ─ the pale reflection of the moon making them bright, being the predator from just a step from the only window in the hallway. The fierce animal took one or two steps more, exposing its fur to the moonlight with a languid, slow pace. Blood freezed in his veins. He knew far too well whose daemon was that one.
That morning had started as always, nothing different from the usual. He woke up with someone shaking him gently. He opened his eyes lazily, meeting Moira's amused and sweet smile. « You'd never wake up if it wasn't for me », said the girl before getting up and arranging the little table he had in his little room for breakfast. « I don't know how I would even breathe without you », was his answer accompanied by a lopsided smile.
« Flattery won't get you anywhere. Now get up and eat something or you'll be late. » She gestured towards a plate of scramled eggs and ham. She always did this every morning. When they had met they became immediatly close and it was a fair share of years before that morning; the brown haired girl always cared for him and, even tough he didn't need it, he didn't disdain the attention and affection. He felt tickling on his neck and understood that Fia was now awake too: a tiny muzzle appeared close to his face. A moment later, the ferret jumped out of bed and started teasing James ─ Moira's daemon ─ to play. It was only obvious that Fia and James felt like being playful one to the other, being that the perfect representation of the nature of Charles and Moira's relationship.
« Why are you up so soon? », asked Charles ─ implying the question why did you wake me up so soon? « I'm always up this soon, I just don't usually wake you up at this hour », she answered, while looking at James and Fia playing. « I just haven't paid any attention to what hour it was I guess, but waking up a little earlier won't kill you, you know. » « And what distracted you so much? », he asked distractedly, while taking his first bite of eggs. « I was thinking that today will be a long day. You know, Lensherr announced another one of his visits to the college. »
He nearly chocked on his food, and after having coughed lightly he sighed, even if with a faint smile painted on his face, that made his exasperation evident.
Charles Xavier wasn't a man that had any big interest in politics. He was born in a big mansion, lived life as a rich kid. Since when he and Moira had met at the tender age of twelve, they shared the dream of becoming Arctic explorers. So they had attendend the same schools from that moment on. He studied like a crazy man and had gained a degree in biology. Now he was aiming for a PhD, hoping to mix biology and anthropology in a study on panserbjørn ─ armored bears ─ that would have also given him the occasion to explore Svalbard, the nearest point to the Arctic he would have reached till that point of his life and probably an entrance card to the Royal Arctic Institute and to the job and life he had dreamed of. Moira had been less fortunate: she was now employed as an assistant in the same college were Charles was getting his PhD, making her much farther from the objective than he was. But she did not lose her determination and, at the very least, they were both carrying on wth their lives at Jordan College and keeping company to each other. In this picture ─ that featured also his sister and his friends, that luckily were pretty close since he and Moira were studying in a college that was pretty close to their childhood houses ─ the Magisterium didn't appear at all. He knew about his existence but didn't really mind, as if its existence wasn't really something that meddled in his life and it really felt like that was the case. That until the first appearence of Erik Lensherr.
« Wouldn't a Magisterium man care at least a little bit about the Scholastic Sanctuary? »
« He isn't technically violating it by visiting the college. But he still gives me the creep. It always feels like he's looking for someone to make a mistake », she observed. He agreed silently: it really did seem like he was doing just that. And, just by passing by and studying them with inquiring stares, he wasn't effectively violating their status of Scholastic Sanctuary, that protected them, being intellectual workers of Jordan Collegge. They had an uneventful breakfast, while the sun rose behind Charles' shoulders, giving to the room a weird, crepuscular look. He still didn't know, but he would have remembered that morning as the start of everything for a long time, before the details started blurring out in the corners of his mind. But at that moment, nothing could be clearer: his little, crumpled room that he was given to stay at the college, and the orange light that illuminated softly Moira's gentle traits and soft smile.
The morning was dedicated to reading ─ he was still preparing the material he needed to have to start the actual field research he aimed to do in Svalbard. At 1 p.m. he resigned himself to the awareness that he needed to eat. If Lensherr was really lurking in the college in the search for heretics now he surely was sitting on the professors table; the same table were a sit for Charles had been garanteed for the last two month. He cursed his timing: while he was still a student he saw Lensherr, but always had a way to keep him at arm-lenght. This time it was even probable he would have had to talk to him and he wasn't exactly thrilled about the possibility. He walked in the dining room with as much confidence he could gather ─ and it was a lot ─ and to the professors table, with one of his best smiles. After entering, the first thing that catched his attention was Lensherr's daemon. It was too big to fit behind the table, that was in front of the whole canteen, three steps that separated it from the others and facing the room orizontally, while all the others were orientated towards the windows. The enormous daemon was lying on the stairs before the table. It occupied a fair share of them, being almost or up to two meters long. Fia was nervously looking towards the daemon from around his neck, were she liked to stay ─especially when on the ground there was something that she'd really rather not disturb. He elegantly managed to take the steps to the table without stepping on any part of the huge animal. He felt its gaze though, as he reached his sit, which made his neck air stand up. But, even if the furrett on his shoulders was evidently nervous, Charles hid it charmingly, seemingly perfectly calm. Mr. Robertson, head of the administration, was talking to Lensherr frantically about something that Charles didn't manage to understand, while the Magisterium's employee wasn't even look up to him, looking absently his plate and evidently not very invested in the conversation. In fact, as soon as he had the occasion he interrupted Robertson, glancing to him. « I notice there's a new professor? », he asked coldly.
Charles sighed internally. He didn't have anything to hide from the Magisterium but being noticed by it and particullary by this man felt unnerving.
« Oh, yes. He's Charles Xavier, a new member of the board. » Having lost the opportunity to just eat in silence, Charles smiled in response, looking at Erik for the firt time. « Nice to meet you. » The other man shifted his glare towards him and made him shiver: Lensherr managed to carry with him the unsettling aura of somene who didn't care were he was or what he was doing, while clearly looking for a suspect to accuse. But for a moment there, he saw an unknown sparkle in the ice blue eyes and it made him even more uncomfortable. « And what is your subject of interest? », was the man's inquiry. « I'm looking forward to an exploration to Svalbard that should cement a research on panserbjørn that mixes biology and anthropology », he aswered carefully. The same man that had posed the question had lost his interest has soon as Charles had started to answered and the total lack of attention offended Charles more than it should have. It was better not to arise any kind of interest from that man, but still, Lensherr had been very rude, to the extent that Charles had clearly seen his daemon yawn, making a the show of its large jaws opening; and even if the other hadn't seem to happy about it himself ─giving it a glare─ it was an hard blow to Charles' pride. Robinson started blabbering again, showering Erik with kindness. He felt a little bit disgusted at the pitiful scene, but didn't dare to let his face fall off, mantaining his smile. He didn't want to get in any problem without good reasons.
The afternoon came, and it was a surprisingly sunny day considering that they were in Autumn. He had arrived to the conference room before anyone else. A meeting should have started in a few minutes, even if he suspected that Moira ─ that was the angel that had reminded him, as always ─ had intentionally given him the wrong time to make sure he arrived in advance and not late. He sat on an armchair, Fia climbing to get to the side of his arm. It was then that he noticed some papers being thrown on the coffee table in front of the unused fireplace. He lifted a brow and looked around himself, as if he needed to control if he really was the only one in the room. Then, confirming to himself that that was the case, he took the papers from the table, giving them a curious look; he would have understood who had left them there by understanding the topic and give them back. But as he read the first few lines, he realized with surprise that the topic that was discussed in those notes was one that should never be discussed in a college. « Charles! », Fia voice called for him. « Put them immediately down. This is not something that should be here. » He agreed with her: the notes reported information about Rusakov's particles and while the theme itself wasn't considered something heretic to be studied, any further development of Rusakov's field theory was absolutely considered heretic and punished by the laws of Magisterium. It was absurd finding something like this in a college, but it was even more considering a member of the Consistorial Court of Discipline of the Magisterium was staying there. In a moment like that, being catched with something like this could become a huge problem. « Charles, what are you thinking about? Don't do anything crazy », added Fia, in the most menacing voice her little self was capable of making. « I could signal them immedately, but even if the professors will have no doubt about the fact that I just found these here, I don't think Lensherr's opinion will be the same. He'll think that the professors are trying to cover for me after catching me red-handed. » He started to fold them, looking at the time. « We'll burn them later. In a few moments the other members of the board will be here, now we can't do anything about it. » Fia sighed. « The only important thing is to get rid of them as soon as possible », she answered, muting herself at the sound of the door opening.
The meeting was a long one, during which they discussed about every member's researches and finally approved the funds for Charles' one. He felt a weight lift from his chest, even if a bigger one was now occupying his thoughts. Whose documents were the ones he had found? Why someone would be so careless with Erik Lensherr wandering freely inside the college? And what could possibly be written on the documents? He couldn't deny being curious about their contents, giving the fact that it was a theme he never touched with its studies but was declared heretic, even if Rusakov himself was a sperimental theologist ─ a field of knowledge that the Magisterium should have encouraged. He didn't even know precisely what Rusakov's particles were and only knew that the scientist had theorized the existence of a field made by them. But did anyone know more about this? Or since it was banned all it remained of it was a vague general knowledge that everyone possesed, only aware that the theory existed without even knowing what the theory itself was? The gathering finished after dinner but he hadn't even realized it, being to focused on the thoughts and questions that had tangled up in his mind, making him nervous. Could he really burn them without even reading them? Fia was walking besides him and, seeing him frowning, spoke up: « Don't even think about it Charles. Now we go to your room and start the fireplace. » She had avoided to give to many details even if they were alone in the hallway that he had to walk through to arrive downstairs and then to his room. It was then that he perceived something moving behind his back.
This absurd common day was the one that had brought him there, in that hallway, the black jaguar nearer and nearer to him and an agonizing sense of fear and guit that had shaken him suddently, materializing from thin air. Lensherr emerged from the darkness, standing before the window, looking at him in the eye. Fia enterd in Charles clothes, preferring to be out of reach from the other's daemon view. « Mr. Lensherr », he greeted, smiling and without betraying himself with any sign of uncertainity ─ except from his daemon fleeing inside his clothes, that is. « What are you doing here in the middle of the night? », he asked with a polite tone, even if the question wasn't polite at all. « We need to talk », was his only answer. Charles kept his demeanor. « Why? », he asked. « Just follow me. » Charles complied in silence.
The man was wearing a black suit, with a single spot of color given by his bordeaux tie, and a ink black jacket over his clothes. He couldn't have looked more shady even if he tried to. He felt his heartbeat fasten. Was it possible that Lensherr somehow knew about him taking the notes in the conference room? There was no way he knew, though. It wasn't impossible to look into the conference room window but to do that Lensherr should have known in advance where to look and equip himself adequately to actually see Charles doing something like that. And even if he had saw Charles, there was no way he could have seen what was written in the papers he picked up, anyways. While thining about what could Lensherr possibly want from him, he followed the man walking some steps behind him and studying him: the other was completely silent and both him and his daemon didn't seem to betray any emotion through their slow, calm movements. Lensherr opened a door that Charles recognized as one of the rooms where guests that visited the college were located. It was his room. He entered and while the man remained in front of him, it was the jaguar that with a minute movement of its paw closed the door behind Charles, before laying its body in front of it. This way he couldn' open the door in any way and realized immediately that he had been trapped. At this point, he heard a husky voice saying few, decisive words.
« I saw you, Professor Xavier. » Charles felt like screaming, but ignoring the panic that was growing inside him making it hard to speak, he lifted a brow, feigning surprise. « What are you talking about Mr. Lensherr? » Fia was still hidde inside his clothes and didn't look like she would have considered coming out. « I saw you taking the notes », he answered and, before Charles could add anything, his face still showing confusion, he added: « Keep the charade to yourself. I know which notes were in the conference room. » This time, his stupor was sincere. « In fact, I placed them there myself », concluded Lensherr. The situation became more and more absurd with every sentence. Why would he leave such documents there for someone to pic them up? It couldn't be a way to find heretic professors; if he had to place the incriminating material whoever took it wasn't in any way guilty of any crime or couldn't be at the center of any suspicion. What was the bait for? Charles heard a low growl coming fom behind, followed by a chill down his spine. But the daemon's rage didn't seem to be aimed at him. « Erik », it said with an authoritative, rich voice. The one who the warning was directed to didn't flinch and didn't even look at his daemon. Instead, he was looking Charles in the eyes, a serious but not worried expression on his face that was in contrast with the alarming intensity of his stare. « I'm a mole », he declared, causing an exclamation from the jaguar ─ Erik! ─, that came out with a distressed tone. He continued to ignore what the panther told him. « An infiltrator in the magisterium. » Fia's curiosity had the best of her, making her muzzle poke out of Charles shirt.
« What's the meaning of this? », he asked, passing a hand through his hair but without losing his temper. He was surprisingly good at hiding his feeling and if it wasn't for his daemon, being a trasparent filter to his emotions and his intentions, it would have been very hard to read him. For the very same reason, he interpreted that Erik must have been conflicted: while he told him those words, his daemon was showing fully how he wasn't really convinced to do so. That gave to the insane revelation an unsettling credibility. « It's exactly what I told you », was the dry answer. « But why? What are you trying to do? »
« I was searching for someone that instead of throwing away those notes or reporting them would have been interested in keeping them. » He sat on the edge of the bed, without looking away from his interlocutor. « I'm part of an organization that aims for freedom of speech, Oakley Street. And I want to know what's behind the Rusakov's field theory. But I need somebody that can understand the subject of the studies. I am not fit for that. So I started looking for a researcher... » Suddently Charles understood. All the visits he payed to the Jordan College, all the interest gained and lost in their researches. He was, in fact, looking for someone that cultivated heretic interest, but for vastly different reasons than the ones that everyone thought.
« You do know that I am mainly a biologist and a genetist, right? », he asked. « You would need an experimental theologist for this kind of thing. » He didn't know anything about Oakley Street and the words that Lensherr spoke seemed very poetic and rightful in theory, but even if these were his real purposes, working against the Magisterium's will usually didn't grant a bright future.
« I do. I still think that you would understand more than me in out findings. Honestly, any scientist that takes interest in the matter can be good enough. It's still a widely unexplored field. We could even make a world-shaking discovery. » He had caught Charles attention.
Charles wasn't a bad person; he cared about the possibility of making freedom of speech factual and not only theorical in Brytania. He was surely allured by the possibility of helping making a better world for the ones after him. But overall, Charles Xavier was a curious person. And the hint that this topic was an unexplored terrain made his eyes look at the situation from a completely different angle. Lensherr seemed to have grasped his interest on the matter and his gaze changed too; he didn't look like he wanted to convice Charles anymore. It seemed like he was trying to tempt him.
« If we do discover something, we'll probably be the first to know in the whole world. Not even the Magisterium is researching on the matter. It's a mistery that is yet to be resolved by anyone. » Charles locked his look with Lensherr's one. It couldn't be that terrible. After all, his part in this plan was researching on a peculiar matter without anyone else knowing: he would have done that from a desk and after that, he could have returned to his life and his actual research while Erik Lensherr went on in his battle against the Magisterium. Spending a few months studying this seemed like a small price to pay to finally bring to light the mistery behnd Rusakov's field. He realized in that moment, that he was acting like he had a choice but, through all that conversation, the jaguar had never left his spot behind his shoulders. After telling him all this, the man couldn't possibly let him go. A refusal would have probably meant a death sentence; otherwise, Lensherr wouldn't have been a very good mole. And, since he was part of the Consistorial Court of Discipline, one of the highest ranks of the Magisterium.
« I don't have a choice, do I? »
« See? I knew you were smart », commented Erik, drawing a little smirk on his face.
« Well, my part is not that big. I just have to study some documents that you'll provide me?» Lensherr turned his gaze to the window of the room, a pensive expression on his face. « Mostly. But before that we have to retrieve some of the documents we need in order to do that. » He nodded. « Well, when are we leaving? » The response was immediate: « In two days. Let's meet up in front of the building, we'll leave with the 9.00 a.m. Zeppelin, so you should be there by 8.30. Also... », he paused a bit, before turning himself one more towards Charles. « If you know someone who would like to help...bring them », he concluded. Charles couldn't think of anyone he would have liked to follow him on this; he had accepted, out of curiosity ─and justifying himself with the awareness that a 'no' wouldn't have been an acceptable answer─ but he wouldn't want to drag his friends or family in this. He nodded silently, even if the decision was already taken. « It's a deal, then », he declared. « It is. », said Erik. Charles took the answer as a sign that he was now allowed to walk to his room, but turning himself, he saw the panther still laying in front of the door, her eyes very similar to Erik's, intelligent and intense. He heard Lensherr taking the steps that separated them; then, he felt his breath near his neck.
« Don't bother telling on me, obviosuly. They wouldn't believe you, and I would be forced to make you uncapable of trying a second time. » His voice was cold and absent and he sounded like he was telling him a boring, unimportant fact he had learned through the day. Charles didn't let himself be startled though: the observation that the man had just made was obvious.
« I had already figured that out », he said, before giving Erik a wry smile. This time, he felt the big cat moving from the point where he was resting and got out of the room, giving to the other one last glance.
Their eyes met, both blue but very different, in a way Charles couldn't understand or didn't bother to understand. He closed the door.