CHAPTER ONE

​-What Rubbish!-​

Intrigued, Hadrian placed the artefact in his suitcase before turning to face Luna. The witch was leaning over a bush as she emptied out the contents of her stomach. Bemused, he retrieved a vial of powdered bezoar from his robes and held it out to her.

"Here, have this," he said. "It should help."

Gratefully, Luna snatched the vial from him before emptying it into her mouth in one swing. Leaving the girl behind to recover her wits, the wizard strolled out of the graveyard they had been teleported to. Something was wrong; a frown formed on his face when he looked up to find an unfamiliar tapestry of stars above him.

"Luna, dear," Hadrian called.

"Yes, My Lord," the witch replied, scurrying out of the graveyard after him.

"Follow me." Without waiting for her reply, Hadrian summoned his broom, hopping on it before zooming off into the sky. The artefact had a stalk of polished mahogany, and emblazoned along its length were intricate runes and symbols that glowed in a faint ghastly hue. Its sleek saddle curved ergonomically along its length before flaring out into a smouldering broom head with bristles that burned with an unnatural green flame.

Luna clumsily followed on a broom of her own; albeit a more mundane-looking one with a pair of glowing gemstones hanging from the forward end and a picnic basket at the rear behind her saddle.

"...Is there a problem, My Lord?" the witch asked upon catching up with him.

"...Yes, my dear," Hadrian replied, his features settling into a mask of stoicism. "I think we might be a bit lost."

***​

It was a slow night tonight. Although, Amber did not particularly think that was an unusual thing as most people got their coffee in the morning on their way to work, not the other way around.

Still, the usually bustling café was quiet. Boring. Beyond the gentle hum of a conversation between the last pair of customers in the shop, only the subtle hiss of steam emanating from a kettle and the tinkling of utensils could be heard. With a sigh, Amber slapped the microfibre cloth she held on the counter before rubbing its polished surface clean of fingerprints. The urge to pull out her phone and kick back to some curated brain rot burned in her bosom, but her boss was the sort of uptight Karen to frown at such behaviour, so she didn't even though the woman was probably fast asleep. No point risking getting into an argument she couldn't possibly win.

Whatever, Amber thought glumly to herself. This stupid shift will soon end anyway.

Then, like the call of the messiah, the doorbell tinkled, signalling the entrance of new customers. The bored barista looked up to greet them with an arched brow. The couple that entered was certainly a sight to behold. The man, dark-skinned, tall and distinguished, sported a pair of round spectacles that framed a roguishly scarred face, giving him an air of rakish intellectualism. His attire, reminiscent of a bygone era, paired well with the old-fashioned leather suitcase he clutched lightly in his left hand. Beside him, his companion, a striking woman with a shock of white hair, stood similarly dressed. She possessed an otherworldly beauty that distinguished her from most women Amber had seen. Although Amber felt the lady's vacant expression hinted at a certain air of naivety that couldn't be ignored.

"Welcome to Brew Haven," She drawled, putting aside her cleaning cloth to attend to the guests. "What can I get for you two tonight?"

The man's gaze wandered over the menu board, his lips quirking in contemplation. "Two lattes, please. And perhaps a slice of that apple pie, if you have any left."

"Cool," Amber replied, turning her attention to the storage cabinets behind her. Deftly, she selected the appropriate beans and began to brew. A symphony of familiar sounds soon filled the air—the grinding of beans, the soft percussion of the tamper, and the rhythmic tango of scalding water meeting coffee grounds. A few minutes later, an aroma, rich and intoxicating, wafted into the air upon a layer of steam.

As Amber poured velvety streams of warm milk from a large pitcher into the cups she could not help but strike up a conversation with the intriguing pair. "...So, are you two new in town?" she asked. "I haven't seen you around here before."

The man nodded, adjusting his spectacles. "Yes, we just arrived. We're still getting our bearings… To be honest, though, I think we might be a bit lost."

"Ah, well, Gotham can be quite the city to navigate," Amber remarked with a smile, handing him his cup of coffee as she made to ape his quirky accent. "It's a lively place, but you'll want to keep your wits about you. Crime tends to run rampant in these parts."

His brow furrowed slightly. "Crime, you say? Any particular areas we should avoid?"

Amber laughed at that, amusing his words to be a joke. "Just stay off the streets if you can help it," she said dropping the accent. "With the infestation of villains these past few months nowhere is truly safe in this city.

The man's gaze turned intrigued as he absorbed Amber's words. "...Thank you for the warning," he said.

Amber nodded in response, understanding his concern. "It's not all bleak though," she continued as she served his partner a latte of her own before leaving to get the apple pie. "We have the Bat Family to keep an eye on things, and many of the Teen Titan's patrols get routed through Gotham, so at any given time there should be a hero in the city."

The man's eyes lit up with interest. "...I have always wanted to see these… Bat people," he said, mouthing the word like someone unfamiliar with it… which would be absurd. What kind of rock would you have to be living under to not know Batman?

"...I think you would be disappointed," Amber said kindly.

"Why is that?"

"You do know the Batman is not someone you can just stumble upon, right? I have lived here all my life and only once have I physically seen him; even then it was from across a street alongside a massive crowd of spectators. I doubt you would have much luck there."

The strange man fell silent for a moment before suddenly chuckling. "Don't worry," he said. "I brew my own luck."

"...Was that a barista joke?" she asked, a laugh bubbling in her chest. "Gosh, that was awful."

"How much do we owe you?"

"Twelve dollars, fifty cents." Amber chirped, her mood light.

"I am guessing this doesn't tender here?" the stranger asked, flashing what she assumed were British notes at her. Amber shook her head in response.

"You two are pretty far off from home, aren't you?" she asked as she, in turn, flashed a dollar bill from her back pocket at him.

"You can't even begin to comprehend," the man muttered, before gesturing for the note in her hands. "May I please see that?"

"...Why?" Amber asked with a frown.

"Just for a moment." There was that rakish look again in his eyes as he smiled at her. Confused, Amber handed him the note which he looked at from both sides before laying it on the polished counter beside his still untouched slice of pie.

The strange man looked up to meet her gaze. "Wanna see a magic trick?" he asked.

Intrigued, Amber arched a brow, her gaze panning to the pair of customers leaving the shop before returning to the stranger's face. "Okay…?"

Smiling, the stranger placed a hand over the dollar bill. "Geminio," he intoned, lifting his hands to reveal a small pile of bills where her single dollar once laid.

"...How?" Amber asked, picking the bills up in astonishment. Her gaze flickered to the man before flitting over to his silent companion beside him; the woman didn't even seem to be paying any attention to their conversation, distracted by reading an old tome she retrieved from somewhere while she sipped daintily from her cup of latte.

"A magician never reveals his secret," the man replied.

"Ugh," Amber moaned in disgust. "That's so cringe!"

The man laughed, unphased by her outburst. "Alright," he said, smiling still. "Let me show you another one as an apology. A better one."

This time Amber paid close attention to his hands, so when he pulled a long wooden stick out of thin air she quickly realised something... wasn't adding up.

"...Is that a wand?" she asked, baffled.

"Yes," the man replied. "Its body was carved from a block of ancient yew thirteen inches long, while the core was made from a single flight feather plucked from the right wing of a five-hundred-year-old phoenix just before it died from natural causes.

"...What?"

"My next trick is a bit more complicated, which is why I need my wand." the man said as if that explained anything.

"What—"

The wand swayed in his grip, its tip glowing white.

"Imperio," the stranger intoned and everything went—

***​

Hadrian stared at the glazed-eyed girl in front of him, his carefree smile fading into indifference.

"What is your name?" he asked her, carving up a bit of his pie with a petite spoon before bringing it to his mouth.

"...Amber Bennet," the thrall enunciated slowly.

"Amber, is there anyone else in this cafe aside from the three of us?"

"My boss; she fell asleep in her office."

"Hmmm… Have you told me any lies since I walked in here, Amber?"

"No."

"...So, you are telling me witches and wizards are roaming around in public with their presence acknowledged by muggle authorities?"

"Witches?"

"The heroes you mentioned," Hadrian said, gesturing with his tiny spoon. "The Bat Family."

"They are not witches," the girl replied. "They are heroes."

Hadrian frowned. "Do they use magic or exhibit abilities bordering on the mystical?"

"No," the girl replied, to Hadrian relief. "But Raven and Zatanna do. They are not in the bat family though."

"...Who is Raven? And Zatara?"

The girl giggled. "I said Zatanna, silly. Zatara is Zatanna's father. The girls are members of the Teen Titans, while Zatanna's father is a freelancing hero."

Hadrian's frown returned with full intensity. "This Bat Family and the Teen Titans… how many members do they have?"

The girl pouted. "There are just five bats, but I am not sure how many Teen Titans there are. Twenty, maybe?"

"...Are they all the 'heroes' you were speaking about?"

"No," the girl replied. "There's still the Justice League and the Birds of Prey, as well as a few other independent heroes, like Zatara, here and there."

"...How many heroes in total do you think there are?" Hadrian asked the girl, worried he would have to—in what appears to be an entirely different universe from his home world—deal with another slew of Dumbledores and Tom Riddles believing, in their naivety, they knew what was best for the world."

The girl, Amber, thought for a moment before responding. "I don't know; well over fifty, maybe."

"...Where can I get more information about these… heroes?" Hadrian asked, already feeling a headache coming up.

"...The internet?" came the girl's hesitant reply.

…

Fifteen minutes later, Hadrian and Luna followed Amber to her dorm whilst the wizard distractedly swiped through her phone as he skimmed website after website for information on these 'heroes'.

None of it made sense to him, and all he saw merely reinforced the annoyed premonition he felt in his heart. "Why doesn't this bat fellow just kill that joker fellow if muggle laws are too inept to deal with the clown?" Hadrian asked his thrall.

Amber shrugged. "Morals? Public perception? I don't know…"

Hadrian's frown deepened even more. "What rubbish," he muttered. "Public perception? What say do base muggles have in the affairs of their betters?"

The thrall had no answer to his question. Hence, the wizard read on, finding himself even more disappointed the longer he read.

"What rubbish…"