Bleak Midwinter

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—28 July 2023—

With deft hands, Sarah meticulously combed through my hair, her skilled fingers navigating through each strand with precision. Her touch was gentle yet purposeful, smoothing down any stray hairs that dared to disrupt the immaculate lines of my newly styled haircut.

Glancing into the mirror ahead of me, I studied my reflection with a sense of detachment.

Yep, despite everything, that's still me.

Side-stepping into my vision, Sarah slaps her hands on both of my shoulders, peering into my eyes through the mirror with a scrutinizing expression.

"Yeah, you still look gay." She comments, her face lighting up in amusement.

Swatting her hands off my shoulders. "What's with you and calling me gay recently?"

"Hmm… well, you're rich, famous, smart although only sometimes, and you got a good mug on ya, but despite all that, you STILL get NO bitches! I thought rich guys were supposed to be dashing playboys," She teased, wrapping her arms around my neck from behind in a hug, despite my earlier protests.

"Not only that but as of recently, you've been hanging out with a bunch of really buff dudes–and they're usually shirtless and sweaty. VERY sweaty, or is it oil? I dunno, they're just shiny muscly men." Sarah continued, resting her chin on my shoulder.

"You know that was because we were in Israel. It's hot in the desert, and the guys in both the excavation and mining teams probably felt more at ease with fewer clothes. It's mainly men because the industry IS mainly men. When you think of miners, you probably think of a guy, don't you?"

Flicking her on the nose, she retreats off me with a quiet 'ow'.

"Besides, I don't have an interest in anything romance-related. I'm busy."

"Yes yes, you're off trying to change the world! Expose the spooky wizards by pulling them from the dark and into the light!" She muses with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Assuming you do succeed, after all that, what's your plan next?" She asks, plopping down on a sofa behind me.

Swiveling on the chair, I faced her, "I'll continue to look for more artifacts, I highly doubt that the armor we found is the only thing hidden away. Other than that…" I close my eyes. "I'll find her."

"Mmm, is that right…?" Sarah flicked her phone out of her pocket, tapping on the screen to bring it to life. "Well, you're on in just about five minutes. You ready to complete your first step?"

A week had passed since I received the message from Ambassador Brown. During that time, we conducted various 'unique' tests on the arcanic armor we found. A few other minor artifacts rich in Arcanum were also unearthed, although they paled in comparison to the armor. Regardless, they would serve as useful evidence.

Flying out to New York, Sarah and I arrived just yesterday. Today was meeting day. I briefly met with Ambassador Brown momentarily earlier for him to give me further context on what exactly I was walking into. Unfortunately for me, I won't be presenting in a public hearing–a meeting that would have been accessible to absolutely anyone, as long as they have internet access. 

Regardless, I'd still be sharing information with a handful of diplomats from various countries. Predominantly, the security council. The most prominent and permanent members in that council being: China, France, the USA, the UK, and Russia.

Since the United Nations Security Council–UNSC for short, had the primary responsibility of maintaining international security and peace, I bring information that may disrupt that balance. Rather, than inciting panic by revealing the existence of magic to the world, I was to share my findings privately with governmental figures and discuss a plan moving forward.

Getting up from my seat, I stepped back, before looking into the mirror once more–this time with my whole figure visible.

Sarah had carefully curated my attire, selecting a black tight-fitting turtleneck that hugged my frame snugly. Paired with a well-fitted pair of black chinos, and an unbuttoned suit jacket over my turtleneck, its shade is subtly lighter than the rest, seamlessly blending all the dark tones together. It looked good, too good, fitting me like a glove tailored to perfection. It made me feel slightly uncomfortable if I were to be truthful, as I was never truly a big fan of dressing up like this.

"How do you feel?" Sarah called out to me from lounging on the sofa, her one leg dangling off the side.

"Awkward, but…" My expression stiffens. "...ready to take on the world."

Sarah snorts. "Dude, that was kinda cringe."

As I'm about to smack the side of her head, the door to the antechamber we're in opens, presenting a man wearing a dark navy suit. His eyebrow raised as sees my hand raised in a threatening manner, a moment away from my sister.

"Ahem-Mr. Ashford? I've come to collect you, it's time." he says, dismissing the scene in front of him with a cough.

"Ah, right. Let's get going then." Returning my hands to my sides, I gave a look to Sarah that roughly translates to 'behave.'

As I follow the guide out of the room, the bustling hallway envelops me in a whirlwind of diverse languages and bustling activity, the air seemingly alive with the hum of conversations in varying tongues. The vibrant mosaic of cultures and nationalities represented here at the United Nations headquarters was undeniably tangible. 

Along the walls, I'm struck by the presence of captivating murals, intricate sculptures, and other pieces of artwork, each seemingly imbued with layers of symbolism and significance beyond their physical forms.

Clutching my briefcase tightly, its metallic exterior smooth beneath my fingers. Within the case, lay the tools of my most recent mission in Israel–documents, data, and evidence meticulously gathered and organized to bolster my arguments and support my case. As I navigated the labyrinthine corridors, I couldn't shake the feeling of indifferent attachment to what was about to come.

How peculiar. I'd expect to feel more nervous.

Exiting one hallway, before entering into a long corridor leading to imposing double doors, the escort stood by the side of the door, gesturing for me to proceed. With a steadying breath, I stepped froward.

Letting my eyes adjust to the light of the new room, I was met with the sight of the large horseshoe-shaped table that dominated the chamber–the iconic centerpiece of the United Nations Security Council.

Along its sweeping curve, each seat bore a long microphone and a nameplate signifying the country and position of its occupant. Flicking my eyes around the table, I located the plate that belonged to me–precisely positioned to present the United States of America as an Attaché to the Deputy Ambassador. Specifically labeled as a Guest.

Guest, huh?

Around the chamber was a hive of activity, with a dozen or so individuals scattered around, all donned in formal attire that bespoke their roles as ambassadors, diplomats, and representatives of their respective nations. Engaged in various conversations in their own small circles, my ears pick up on the odd discussion spoken here and there, whether that be recent events such as the increase of natural disasters, international relations, and other trending issues facing the global community currently.

Towards the left of the room. Elevated above the floor, stood two booths that overlooked the proceedings. Each equipped with state of the art technology and panoramic windows, they provided a bird's eye view of the deliberations below.

It must be the interpretation and media room, although…

Glancing at the top booth, the media room, I noted a distinct lack of personnel amidst the array of cameras and equipment.

I see, this is what he meant by private.

"Mr. Ashford!"

Speaking of him.

The familiar voice cut through the buzz of conversation, drawing my attention to the figure of Deputy Ambassador Brown. His hair initially brown, had blended with grey–a show of his experienced age. Regardless, seeing him in person, he exuded an air of seasoned confidence that commanded respect.

"Mr. Brown, it's good to see you." I replied. Acknowledging his presence with a nod of my head.

"Likewise," he takes a moment to adjust his red and white striped tie against his black suit. "To catch you up, the chamber has already concluded with its daily meetings. Now, only the permanent members of the UNSC will stay behind."

"I see," my gaze drifting to the booths on the side, before back to Brown. "I've also noticed the lack of manpower in the media room."

"Correct. Only those that were necessary needed for the talks to come stayed behind." His eyes shift from my own to the briefcase I'm carrying. "I assume you've brought some 'interesting' information on this Arcanum?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.

Gently shaking the briefcase I have in hand. "Of course. That and some other things that you folk will find bizarre."

"Magic is supposedly real… I eagerly await to see what you show us, Mr. Ashford." Brown remarked, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic contents of my briefcase. "It's a shame Elizabeth couldn't be here, I'm sure she would've loved this upcoming spectacle."

"Elizabeth?"

"Ah right, Elizabeth Wood. She serves as the main ambassador to the UN. Since she's absent currently, I'm filling her position in the meantime."

"Oh, I see." I should make a mental note of that name for future reference.

"Anyways, why don't you take your seat and set yourself up? We'll begin the talks soon now that you're finally here," Brown suggested, gesturing towards my designated spot at the table.

"I shall do exactly that then." I agreed, offering a respectful nod before making my way towards the Guest seat reserved for me. As I settled into my chair, I retrieved a USB drive from my pocket, housing crucial information in the presentation that awaited me, and then inserted it into the laptop provided.

As if on cue, a sudden musical chime echoed throughout the chamber, its clear tones signaling for everyone to finish up their conversations and prepare for the upcoming discussion. Gradually, the bustling activity began to subside as each participant took their designated seats around the expansive horseshoe-shaped table.

Once everyone was settled, a sense of anticipation hung in the air, accompanied by hushed murmurs and whispered exchanges that fluttered among the assembled diplomats like delicate whispers in the wind.

"The 364th private meeting of the Security Council has been called to order," proclaimed the British president, his accent imbuing his words with authority as he struck his gavel against the polished table.

"This category of meeting serves the purpose of privately discussing matters that shouldn't or should not yet be made known publicly," the president declared solemnly, his voice carrying control and gravitas. "For everyone present here, I ask you all to not divulge any word that was spoken here–for the sake of international security."

The room fell into a respectful silence, each participant acknowledging the gravity of the proceedings unfolding before them. Soon after, a request for the floor was granted to the representative of the United States of America, prompting Deputy Scott Brown to rise from his seat to address the assembly.

"We would like for everyone here to listen well and brace themselves," Brown began, his voice projecting with confidence and purpose. "I bring a man, a guest–an expert on an element, an energy–a matter that is completely alien and foreign to us. Someone whose name you might recognize. Andrew Ashford."

All eyes turned towards me, their collective gaze fixed expectantly as I leaned closer to the microphone, my pulse quickening with the weight of the moment.

"Deputy, thank you," I acknowledged, meeting Brown's gaze with a nod of gratitude. "As Mr. Brown said, I've recently come to be regarded as an 'expert' on an element that was once entirely inconceivable–an element known as Arcanum."

Unclipping the hinges of my briefcase to reveal its enigmatic contents, I retrieved a scroll from within, carefully unfurling it and placing it before me, readying a projector to illuminate its ancient text for all to see.

The chamber fell into a collective gasp as the ancient script materialized before their eyes.

In Adam and Eve's library, a variety of items are housed, all with one common purpose: they were either worn or created by Adam and Eve. From what we can tell so far, the most prized possession is Adam's Battle Armor, known for its extraordinary strength, reinforced with dense and complex layers of Arcanum woven into it like threads in a dress. This armor showcases the skill, versatility, creativity and penchant for pure chaos and destruction of its creator–Adam himself. The library also contains many scrolls and books, each filled with valuable knowledge and wisdom. These texts cover a range of subjects, adding to the wealth of human understanding preserved within the library's walls. There exis-

As the contents of the scroll were projected onto a screen, a chorus of murmurs and gasps filled the chamber, accompanied by a flurry of questions and exclamations.

"Adam and Eve? As in the first humans…?" 

"The scroll… is written in Russian?" 

"What? It's written in Chinese."

"English? It's written in clear English!"

Amidst the confusion, I sought to clarify the mysterious nature of the scroll's ambiguous multilingual script.

"You're all correct." I affirmed, addressing the bewildered assembly. "This scroll is written in all those languages. And regarding Adam and Eve… we believe it to be linked to the biblical figures–the first humans."

"Mr. Ashford, this text is clearly written in French. What exactly do you mean by us being all correct?" The French Ambassador inquired, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"From my testing, the scroll is read in whatever language the reader is most proficient in." I explained, shedding light on the supernatural. "It uniquely manifests in the language most familiar to the observer. I've had people test it. So far, we've got English, Japanese, Arabic, Russian, French, Chinese, Pashto, Korean, Italian, Spanish, Por–the list goes on and on."

"How is that possible? And how is it linked to this 'Arcanum?'"

"For your first question, we still have no idea. And yes, this is believed to be the doing of Arcanum. If I may get your attention to this next item I'm about to present…" 

Brandishing an FLD device, I deftly activated it, its electronic hum filling the chamber as it scanned the surroundings for traces of Arcanum

"These items were initially called 'Foreign Locator Devices' or FLDs for short," I explained, gesturing towards the device. "Although, for convenience, you can now call these Arcanum Locator Devices, as we know what we're looking for now."

Scanning the room, the device emitted a series of beeps as it detected a dense reading of Arcanum, miles away before the signal dissipated as quickly as it appeared.

A bug? I shou-

"Mr. Ashford, how exactly do these 'ALDs' work?" asked the Russian Ambassador, his tone gruff with curiosity.

"These ALDs function similarly to an EMF reader. However, instead of detecting electromagnetic frequencies, they read the frequency of Arcanum instead. What's truly fascinating, however…"

"...that Arcanum is everywhere." I declared, sweeping the ALD across the room to emphasize my point, the device beeping as it did so. "Although, more interestingly…"

I pointed the device at myself, its beeping intensifying as it detected the Arcanum within me. 

"Humans, it seems, are conduits for its energy." I continued, the realization dawning upon the assembly. "We passively absorb it like oxygen. Some individuals harbor more significant concentrations than others due to their proximity to densely Arcanic areas or items. Like me."

"Is Arcanum dangerous?" The Russian Ambassador's voice cut through the room, his tone laced with apprehension and curiosity.

"For it to be inside of you? I don't believe so, at least I haven't felt or shown any negative symptoms from holding so much Arcanum." I reassured addressing the diplomat's concerns. "Although, as you have seen, Arcanum can be utilized within items. You may recall reading earlier on the scroll about 'Adam's Battle Armor.' We've managed to recover that, and I'd like to demonstrate its remarkable capabilities."

With a few clicks, I shared specific video files from my laptop, distributing them to each diplomat's device in the chamber. The footage predominately showcased durability testing of the Arcane Armor–scenes of it enduring crushing, gunfire, explosions, and other forms of assault.

"As you can witness from these videos, the resilience of Arcanum is unmatched," I remarked, the images on the screens illustrating the armor's imperviousness to conventional weaponry and forces. "Despite my company's most concerted efforts, we only managed to achieve negligible results."

The room fell into a hushed awe as diplomats absorbed the implications of the footage, murmurs of amazement and disbelief rippling through the assembly.

"According to all available data and research, this armor represents the most potent Arcanic artifact we've encountered thus far," I continued, my voice cutting through the quiet. "There is a distinct possibility that similar items are scattered across Earth. Currently, we've detected several other intense Arcanum frequencies that we have yet to investigate."

Transitioning to the next segment of my presentation, I clicked on additional files containing data, graphs, and statistics, projecting them onto the screens scattered throughout the chamber.

"Let us now delve deeper into the broader implications of Arcanum." I announced, gesturing towards the illuminated graphs. "As you can observe from these charts, there has been a steady rise in Arcanum across the globe. However, it's worth noting that these numbers initially appeared high due to our recent advancements in detection technology. I hypothesize that Arcanum has been escalating for centuries, if not millennia, largely unnoticed by humanity."

Pausing briefly to hydrate, I gathered my thoughts before continuing.

"I have strong reason to believe that Arcanum is beginning to exert its influence on our world in multifaceted ways." I asserted, my tone grave and earnest. "As evidenced by the increase in natural disasters and other anomalous phenomena, the correlation between Arcanum increasing and such occurrences also increasing is difficult to ignore."

"Are you suggesting that as Arcanum levels rise, natural disasters become more frequent?" asked the Deputy Ambassador of China, her voice tinged with trepidation.

"Precisely." I affirmed, meeting her gaze with my own. "However, while this phenomenon pertains to Earth itself, my primary concern lies with its potential impact on humanity."

"Humanity? You mean humans?" Her apprehension was tangible.

"Yes," I confirmed, addressing the assembly with a sobering tone. "While I lack concrete evidence of Arcanum-induced changes in humans, the data suggests that we may not be immune to its effects. From the artifacts we've recovered to the observed influence on Earth, there is ample reason to suspect that humanity may be subject to Arcanum's influence as well."

The chamber buzzed with conversation as diplomats exchanged theories and conjectures, grappling with the implications of this revelation.

"In light of these developments, I implore everyone to remain vigilant," I urged, my voice cutting through the racket. "Keep a watchful eye for any phenomena that may be deemed supernatural or anomalous. Earth is changing, and whether we are prepared or not, change is inevitable. Let us endeavor to meet it with foresight, wariness, and unity."

Or perhaps, is Earth returning to how it was once before?