“Created how?” Tiberius asked before Lucien fully recovered from Vanessa’s revelation, focusing on his mother. “And why isn’t this taught in history? Luc and I have searched for the origins of the Trumpets before, and no one historical account seems able to give a clear answer.”

“Because it’s a carefully guarded secret.” Vanessa said with a growing level of strength to her voice. “Before I elaborate on that, though, you need to understand an important detail: There is a lie tied to the emergence of metahumans on the world stage.”

Lucien and Ty said nothing as they waited for more.

“Practitioners did not emerge as a consequence of metahuman evolution. Practitioners and magic have existed for as long as mankind.”

“Okay, that’s pretty cool.” Lucien said while exchanging a smile with Ty. “Magic being something more than just lucky superpowers is kind of exciting.”

“There’s something more you should know, in order to understand.” Vanessa said with her hands coming together as if seeking support from her own grip. Malachi remained silent while he watched them talk, his whipcord arms folded. “Superpowers, or what we call metahumans, are magical. The entire creation of metahumans is a consequence of magical potential.” She gestured to Malachi. “Malachi’s generation were the first ones to be affected by this reality.”

“Wait, you mean…?” Ty trailed off and Lucien’s eyes widened at the same moment.

“Yes.” Vanessa said as she looked between them. “Practitioners created metahumans.”

“Jesus Christ.” Tiberius breathed, falling back against the couch as Lucien’s gaze grew unfocused. What Vanessa was saying defied every piece of modern history he’d been taught or read. Few things were properly understood or agreed upon when it came to the manifestation of metahumans as a species, but one thing that was — or rather had been understood — was that Practitioners were a brand of metahuman. If what his godmother was saying was true, then everything society at large believed was one massive lie.

“You’re giving it to them disjointed, Nessie.” Malachi grumbled from the boys’ left. “Start at the Trumpets and go forwards from there. Tell it in order.”

Vanessa glanced at her uncle and then nodded, smiling apologetically when she looked back to Lucien and Tiberius. “Malachi’s right. Okay, I’ll start from the beginning. Magic, as I said earlier, has existed for thousands of years — since the earliest days of mankind as a species. Druids, Shaman, Witches… Practitioners have had many names over the course of human history, but the reality of what they do has remained constant.” She gestured around them. “Magic is a force of nature, an energy that is both formed by and independent of the natural elements of creation. Entropy, Enthalpy, Light, Dark, Fire, Water, Air, Earth… the list goes on.”

“But it’s not like in movies and stuff where someone has a wand or shouts fireball or something.” Lucien said, with Ty nodding in agreement. “Magic is ritualistic, I remember reading that. It’s about process and sacrifice.”

“Yes. Occultism, as it is known in more ignorant circles, is the basic form of magic in its truth. Modern magic, in fact, had become very orderly by the early twentieth century. Practitioners around the world had been organized into Orders or Assemblies, and those Orders into Covens.” Vanessa took a moment to order her thoughts and peered at her fingers for a moment, as if searching for guidance within or upon them. “Magical society fluctuated heavily between Matrilineal and Patrilineal traditions. By the turn of the century, however, it was back to a Patrilineal system. In order to maintain strength and security into an increasingly more technologically threatening world, Covens had also started to consolidate power.”

“Like, weapons stockpiling? Magical artillery or something?”

Vanessa laughed despite the seriousness of the setting. “No, Tiberius. Covens were led by a council of Elders composed of the leaders from each Order, and a Grand Warlock at their head. By 2010, the global community consisted of thousands of Covens, but of those there were a small number that held incontrovertible dominance in our society. These Covens were the most ancient, most powerful ones — with Orders so large they dwarfed many smaller full covens in size.”

Lucien felt himself growing nervous while she spoke, and a faint tingle of anxiety flared within him while he listened. “The leaders of these Covens… they were all male?”

“Yes.” Vanessa said, earning a sharp intake of breath from Tiberius. “Covens weren’t just unions, they were consolidated. Their members may have been country-wide in some instances, but their power was united in order to maintain their ability to protect themselves. By tradition, these bonds were made to include every young or newborn member of an Order once they reached the age of thirteen. It’s a special number among Practitioners.”

“So what you’re saying is that these Covens were all connected?” Tiberius pressed. “That they pooled their magical power like some sort of giant occult electrical grid?”

“Yes.” Vanessa said in confirmation. “And for the purpose of ritual, and tradition, one person was responsible for guiding and harnessing that power in protection of the Coven.”

Lucien's voice grew quiet when the gears started to turn. “The Grand Warlocks.”

“So you begin to understand.” Vanessa said with a sad smile. “Though perhaps not fully. You see, metahuman abilities aren’t simply a product of magic, but instead are magic. True magic. Practitioners normally express their power externally in the form of rituals and chanted spells. In the case of metahumans, however, their magic is expressed internally. Flight, speed, strength, heightened senses, and other various abilities… These manifestations are a product of that metahuman’s magical potential.”

“So metahumans can all do magic?” Tiberius asked confusedly.

“No.” Vanessa said while her voice softened. “Metahumans are irrevocably altered at birth and during their developmental cycle. They lose the ability to outwardly express their magic through ritual. Instead, their magical potential is turned inward to their metahuman abilities. The ‘ceiling’ many people speak of is in actuality the maximum magical potential each metahuman would have had as a practitioner. That is why there is a power imbalance, and why many metahumans will continue to grow into their powers until they simply cannot, no matter how hard they train or practice.”

“Like a level cap in a video game.” Lucien supplied while frowning at the floor.

“Yes.” Vanessa said with a wry smile. “Like a level cap in a video game, but one where everyone’s cap is decided before they’re even born.”

“By what?” Tiberius questioned.

“Nobody knows what controls a person’s magical potential, really. Breeding plays a part,” she said almost as an afterthought, “but then there are the cases of those born with immense power from extremely mundane parents. There’s no science that can really explain it.”

“So how does this relate to the Trumpets?” Tiberius asked.

“Right.” Vanessa said while clearing her throat. “We got a bit sidetracked, didn’t we? The Trumpets, as you’ve both probably guessed, were the Grand Warlocks of the seven greatest Covens. We can’t really be certain how or when it happened, but we suspect it was Messiah since he was the first…” She faltered as she spoke, and appeared to be steeling herself with help from Leonidas’ gentle rubbing of her shoulders.

“Take your time, mom.” Tiberius said in an encouraging voice.

“Yeah, no rush Auntie V.” Lucien chimed in despite the nausea in his gut.

“Thank you, boys.” Vanessa said before continuing. “As I was saying; we aren’t really sure but we suspect Messiah was the one who first discovered the ritual. During a celebration of the Summer Solstice in 2024, Messiah took control of his Coven’s energy and he… Well, the exact details still aren’t known. He did something that caused every bonded member to seemingly commit suicide. From the few eyewitness accounts we have, it was as if their limbs moved of their own accord and their minds remained free. They were passengers in their own bodies, watching their hands betray them and end their own lives.”

Tiberius stared at his mother in growing horror as the reality of what she said sunk in, while Lucien curled his arms around his midsection to soothe the blistering, bubbling cauldron of sick disbelief and anxiety churning his insides.

“Messiah turned the entire collective power of his Coven inwards and became the First Trumpet. Thousands upon thousands of lives. Some of the most powerful and gifted Practitioners in Europe and Eurasia… gone overnight.” She shuddered, and Leonidas tightened his arm around her. Lucien glanced at Malachi and saw his mentor’s expression far away, as if remembering something distant and terrible. “No one really knew what had happened at first. It was like a tangible ripple of sheer horror that pervaded everything. A magical shockwave of death, pain, terror…”

Vanessa lowered her head for a moment as she composed herself, sniffling again. “I’m sorry, kids. It’s just hard to remember.”

Neither of the boys said anything while Leonidas comforted her, and Malachi looked on in grim silence.

Eventually Vanessa raised her head again and wiped away fresh tears. “Well as you know, Messiah wasn’t alone. By 2026 five others had joined him. Baal in the Middle East, Calamity in North America, Quetzalcoatl in South America, Amun-Ra in Africa, and Nephilim in Asia.” She shook her head. “The six of them had always been known as ambitious, even ruthless men — but the scale of what they did… To understand it you need to comprehend a fundamental truth of magic: It possesses intention.”

“Intention?” Tiberius asked as Lucien tried to calm his raging gut. “As in sentience?”

“No.” Malachi cut in firmly. “It isn’t consciousness, it’s direction. Magic is nature. When you blow in the air, it causes air to move. It’s the same with magic; the intention behind an incantation or ritual defines the effect and lingering nature of it.”

Vanessa nodded. “The ritual the Trumpets invoked… It was monstrous. Unforgivable. The collective pain, fear, hatred… It poisoned what they did. It poisoned their souls, and rightly so. The Six became psychopaths and sociopaths of the highest levels. They were, in the months that followed, quickly driven to various forms of insanity — which explains their sudden presentation of themselves as Gods.” She shook her head. “Insane, but brilliant as well. The greatest practitioners of my generation.”

“What about Olympus?” Tiberius asked, giving voice to the question Lucien himself dreaded to ask. His heart thumped like a drum in his chest, thunderous to his ears. Everyone looked at him when Ty posed it, and perhaps they saw what he truly feared. Vanessa’s expression twisted when she realized what he’d been grappling with, and Leonidas’ face showed sympathy. Malachi, however, snorted. “Your father wasn’t like the Six, boy. Tell him, Nessie, before he throws up his lunch.”

“Yes. You’re right.” She smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Lucien. You can relax,” she reassured him, “your father wasn’t like the other six.”

“So Olympus wasn’t a Grand Warlock?” Tiberius asked.

“No, he was.” Vanessa said, dispelling some of Lucien’s tentative hope. “But he was horrified by what his peers had done. I knew Olympus when he was still Arcturus Pendragon. Handsome, but not like how he would be. His hair was black like yours, too, Lucien.” She smiled when she said it. “And he loved your mother fiercely.

Lucien’s hope returned while Vanessa spoke, and some of his anxiety ebbed while she continued.

“Arcturus was the Grand Warlock of the only one of the seven great covens remaining, and many voices called on him to use his Coven’s magic to find a way to trap or imprison the Trumpets — but he knew it was impossible. Not only would it kill his coven, but the power required was beyond what they could hope to create.” Her fingers twined together in stress as she seemed to be remembering personal experiences. “He’d often have arguments with Elders and even the leaders of other Covens that came to visit him. He was already living with your mother, at that point, though nobody knew who she was. She and I were from a much smaller Coven. We met your father at College.”

“So what happened?” Tiberius asked, eager to hear how Olympus became Olympus.

“Well…” Vanessa said, her expression slowly turning somber. “The Trumpets rampaged across the planet, and everyone knew it was inevitable they’d come to end the only tangible threat to their power. Arcturus was out of time, but he refused to condone an act that would hurt his coven; he took his role as their leader and defender very seriously.” Tears slid down Vanessa’s cheeks. “So they took away his choice. The Elders and several leaders of smaller Covens came together and tricked Arcturus.”