After realizing how badly he had truly fucked up, James suddenly remembered school. He had just spent an entire month away, and the mountain of missed assignments waiting for him was going to be terrifying. Shit, he was so screwed. He was guaranteed to be failing all four of his classes.
Caius was awake now, stretching his broad frame as he got out of bed. He was completely shirtless, wearing only a pair of long, baggy pants.
It seemed the guy always slept without a shirt.
Speaking of which, it was only now that James noticed Talia wasn't wearing a shirt or bra either.
Instead, she had thick white cloth tightly bound around her chest—reminds him of the bandages anime characters wore over injuries, like Erza from Fairy Tail, though he couldn't recall the exact name for it at the moment.
Talia caught him staring and offered a mischievous smirk. "What, like what you see~?" she teased.
James blinked rapidly, throwing his hands up in immediate defense. "No! I was just curious—what is that wrapped around your chest?" He was definitely not trying to walk into her trap.
"What, so my chest isn't good enough for you?" She pouted dramatically and looked away, leaving James feeling like he was sinking even deeper into a hole.
"Wait, no! I didn't mean it like that—"
"Ah, so it is good enough then?" Talia grinned, and James realized it was total checkmate. He had lost, and there was no coming back from it.
"Stop teasing the cub," Caius said calmly as he pulled a shirt over his head. "She's wearing a sarashi. It's a traditional Japanese white cotton cloth, historically used as a versatile inner garment, bandage, or wrapping. Worn under kimonos by both men and women, it serves various practical purposes depending on how it's tied."
Caius rattled off the explanation like a walking textbook before continuing casually. "Sometime in the 1500s, a Japanese traveler landed near our territory in California."
"So that's where you learned it?" James asked.
Caius shook his head. "No, our roots go back far before that. When you eventually dive into your history studies, you'll learn that our time in North America is relatively recent in the grand scheme of things. We occupied regions across Europe and the Middle East during the early BC and AD eras."
James blinked. How old is this damn pack?
"It wasn't well-documented back then," Caius added nonchalantly. "Though I doubt it was a peaceful exchange—more of a complete massacre."
James chose not to press any further. Earlier that month, he had witnessed firsthand how casually Caius spoke about wiping out entire groups of people.
If his guess was right and the pack was far more refined in the modern age, he really didn't want to imagine the sheer bloodshed they had unleashed thousands of years ago.
"Here we go again with another history lesson," Mira grumbled, clearly not in the mood for an ancient lecture this early in the morning.
"History is crucial for understanding what came before us, and for recognizing repeating patterns," Caius remarked smoothly.
"Yeah, I get it, but so far most of it is just plundering, war, a few decades of resistance, everybody dying, and then repeating the whole cycle," Mira complained, rolling her eyes. Their clan history might be older than ancient China, but that didn't stop it from getting repetitive. "I don't want to hear about how our ancient clan leaders raided Babylon or whatever."
James froze. Wait, did she just say Babylon?
That would place the event around 539 BC or earlier, making the history over two thousand five hundred years old. Considering the semester had started back in September and a month had passed, it was likely late October or early November of 2023 by now.
That was a ridiculously long time ago.
And Aldric didn't even look old—he gave off the vibe of a guy in his early thirties, which James knew was a lie considering Luna was somehow over two hundred and forty years old.
"That history matters," Caius insisted firmly.
"How old... is he right now?" James asked, genuine curiosity getting the better of him.
Caius turned to him. "He passed away a long time ago."
James gave him a strange look. "A long time ago by werewolf standards, or human standards?"
"Human standards," Caius replied.
Okay, so maybe like 150-plus years ago, James thought. "Can I get specific dates?"
Noticing James's growing interest, Caius offered a subtle smirk. "You'll discover the exact dates yourself during your assigned reading."
Mira rolled her eyes hard. "And here he goes again."
Talia looked like a trauma victim reliving a memory. "He gives you an interesting hook, but refuses to tell you the dates just to bait you into reading those massive, boring textbooks!"
"I spent three whole weeks reading Fay history just because he claimed the Elder's magical cloak technique was explained inside!" Mira snapped, genuinely irritated as she recalled her naive younger self. "And it was literally on the very last page!"
"And by reading that text, you acquired the foundational knowledge required to forge your signature fire cloak ability," Caius countered with complete confidence.
"Go suck a dick," Mira muttered, unable to handle the rage-bait.
James was slowly coming to realize that Caius was an absolute genius at manipulation. "So... can I at least get the title of the history book?" he asked, still deeply intrigued by the pack's ancient origin.
"I'll hand it to you later," Caius said, buckling his leather belt into place and securing his tools and side-dagger. He then paused, as if remembering an important task. "Which reminds me, pup—I need to return your belongings and escort you back to your home."
Talia's ears perked up instantly at the mention of him leaving. "Wait! The cub is leaving already? Why?!" She immediately threw her arms around James, clinging to him like her life depended on it.
"He's so cute, he should stay!"
Caius didn't buy her dramatic act for a single second. "You only want him here because without him around, you're the youngest in the cabin again."
Talia quickly looked away, pouting. "Nuh-uh!"
"Anyway, unlike you, he actually still goes to school," Caius pointed out calmly.
Which, to be fair, was the absolute truth. Talia and Mira had graduated a long time ago. Their asses already knew the basics needed to survive practically anywhere, alongside a vast wealth of knowledge regarding magic and the supernatural world.
Nowadays, they just looked up obscure details whenever a specific situation called for it.
"Oh right, you go to that college thing, don't you?" Talia asked, turning her eyes toward him. She remembered now—she had picked up his scent around the campus grounds before.
She might have crossed paths with him once or twice in passing, but she'd never paid him much attention back then.
Everyone had their own concerns, and the pack generally preferred to leave ordinary humans to their own devices—unless someone tried something slick, which almost always ended in a brutal bloodbath.
"Yeah, I still go," James replied, mentally bracing himself for the wave of missed assignments.
He wasn't trying to do anything reckless right now; his mind was entirely consumed by the nightmare of makeup work heading his way. This was going to be a massive pain in his ass.
"Can I come with? It sounds like fun!" Talia grinned, bouncing on her heels with giddy excitement.
"Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to tag along," Caius said, running a hand through his hair.
James watched closely as Caius's hair suddenly appeared slick and wet. Was he using water magic? Caius then swept his other hand over his scalp, and his hair immediately looked dry and styled.
No, James realized—he would have felt the atmospheric shift if magic had been cast. This felt much more like the natural slime secreted by certain forest flora.
Rowan had mentioned before that the pack used all kinds of natural elements in their daily routines, but James had never imagined plant extracts could double as hair gel. Good to know.
Caius reached into a leather pouch and tossed a small object toward James, who caught it smoothly.
"You didn't have time to tend to your hygiene earlier, but here are some chewing sticks." A soft, refreshing scent of mint drifted off the small wooden twig.
Caius then tossed a pair to Mira and Talia, both of whom caught theirs effortlessly.
"Awesome, mint flavor!" Talia chirped, looking satisfied.
Mira, on the other hand, stared at hers with a mild scowl. "These tiny sticks again? I prefer the thick, sturdy roots."
"I will make sure to source those for you next time," Caius replied smoothly. "However, for right now, these will suffice."
James turned the fibrous stick over in his palm, feeling somewhat confused by the primitive tool. "What is this exactly?"
"That's licorice root blended with peppermint," Caius explained, pointing toward the stick.
"Peel the top inch of bark off with your teeth, chew it gently until the internal fibers spread out into a firm brush, and scrub. Clean mouth, fresh breath, zero magic required."
Right—they didn't use modern toothpaste out here. It was strictly natural remedies for these people. Close up, the faint, sweet aroma of raw licorice blended nicely with the crisp, sharp scent of peppermint.
"So that's how you guys keep your teeth clean?" James paused, realizing it functioned almost like a natural chew toy, except remarkably thorough in its cleaning capabilities.
"It has proven effective for a few thousand years," Caius answered smoothly, already peeling the tip of his own stick with practiced ease.
"And unlike modern plastic toothbrushes, if you drop it in the dirt, you simply carve off the dirty end and start fresh."
He added, "It is also the most accessible method. Magical items and cleansing spells exist, but this remains the most practical for daily use." In short, the sticks could be easily gathered and prepared without wasting valuable mana or resources.
Mira groaned, leaning her head back against the heavy wooden wall of the cabin. "Yeah, except yours is as thin as a twig. Give me the thick, woody roots any day. At least those feel like you're actually scrubbing your teeth instead of nibbling on a blade of grass."
"Beggars can't be choosers on the trail, Mira," Talia chimed in, already using her stick with practiced ease. A subtle scent of fresh menthol drifted through the air as she spoke. "Besides, the mint flavor actually lingers."
James took a cautious bite of the outer bark, peeling a thin strip away to expose the fibrous, pale wood underneath. He chewed down lightly until the bristles frayed outward into a makeshift brush, then scrubbed it gently across his front teeth.
The flavor hit his tongue instantly—intensely sweet and woody, followed by a sharp, cooling burst of peppermint that completely washed away the stale taste in his mouth.
He actually liked it quite a bit.
"You two stay here. I will return shortly," Caius instructed, heading toward the cabin door. James followed right on his heels.
"Bye, pup!" Talia waved cheerfully.
"Bring back some snacks next time!" Mira called out.
As they stepped outside and began walking down the quiet forest path, James looked over at Caius.
"So, uh... where's my stuff?" He was eager to grab his personal belongings and head home.
"Your belongings have already been safely returned to your residence," Caius replied.
Well, that's convenient, James thought, before asking, "Where were they being kept before?"
"I cannot disclose that location to you just yet, as your mental defenses remain fragile."
James blinked, feeling a slight sting to his pride. "I'm not that mentally weak. I wouldn't break that easily."
"I am well aware of your resilience," Caius said calmly. "However, you currently possess zero defense against telepaths. They do not require your permission to read your mind; they can simply reach in and extract the memory."
He raised an index finger. "Or, worse yet, they could weave an illusion spell and compel you to lead them directly to the location without your knowledge."
James settled down instantly. Oh... that's a very fair point.
"And, uh... how many people out there can actually do that?" James asked, wanting to gauge the exact scale of the threat.
Caius pondered the question for a moment before answering systematically. "Mind-weavers, high-tier Fey, Elder Vampires, Arch-Liches, and roughly half the Seer bloodlines across the eastern territories possess natural telepathy. That is to say nothing of baseline mages who specialize specifically in the Mind domain."
James shifted uncomfortably as they walked. "That's... a uncomfortably long list."
"And that accounts only for natural biological inclination," Caius continued, raising a second finger. "Probe Mind, Memory Sift, Truth's Mirror, Scry Persona, Compelling Whisper, Shadowed Deception, Phantom Mirage, Veil of the Unseen... I could list thirty distinct spells off the top of my head that easily bypass standard mental fortitude if you lack proper wards."
"Wait, thirty?" James stared at him in disbelief.
"At minimum," Caius stated nonchalantly. "And those are merely the standard curriculum taught at major academies. Unsanctioned blood magic and ancestral curses push that number significantly higher. The point is, pup, right now your mind is an open book written in large print."
James felt a cold knot form in his stomach.
"However, restricting our scope to local threats—excluding global syndicates, dark web cabals, and ancient organizations—your primary concern for mind-intrusion will come from rogue hunters, the Church's enforcement arms, and high-ranking Vampires. You are, after all, a werewolf." Caius paused briefly.
"The Fey generally remain within the spirit realms, so that eliminates one major group."
James stood there, genuinely dumbfounded. The casual manner in which Caius discussed these legendary, terrifying factions made them sound like ordinary, everyday hazards.
"Fortunately for you, your werewolf lineage grants you an innate physical resistance to mental manipulation," Caius added.
"Resistance, however, does not mean immunity. The mind remains a remarkably fragile structure."
James made a mental note to prioritize learning mental warding as soon as possible. It was clear Caius possessed even deeper knowledge on the subject, but was deliberately holding back to avoid overwhelming him.
"Which reminds me," Caius noted as they cleared a tree line, "now that you have completed the initiation ritual, you will be able to pass through the territory's perimeter barrier at will."
James blinked. "Wait, wasn't I able to do that before? I came in and out multiple times."
"Only because you were accompanied by one of us," Caius corrected. "Had you attempted to navigate the perimeter alone, the chances of you ever finding your way back were practically zero."
So the barrier alters spatial navigation, James noted internally. Good to know. "Barrier magic seems insanely versatile."
Caius shrugged lightly. "Naturally. A barrier is far more than a simple defensive wall. A master of barrier magic can manipulate almost every law within their defined boundary. Some can even manifest isolated pocket dimensions—though such feats are typically reserved for deities or supreme arch-mages."
James's eyes lit up. Wait, for real? That sounded incredible.
"Do not raise your expectations too high," Caius warned dryly, instantly dousing his excitement.
"Even with your abnormal growth rate, it would take you at least a century of continuous study to manifest even the smallest dimensional pocket."
James felt his enthusiasm dim. "Is it really that difficult?"
"Yes, immensely so." Caius paused, taking on the tone of an experienced instructor. "Magic offers infinite possibilities, which is its greatest strength, but also its greatest trap. While various cultures have developed distinct systems to channel mana, the underlying principles grow exponentially complex at higher tiers."
He continued, "Often, a caster attempts one complex formula, fails, and stumbles into an entirely different magical phenomenon they hadn't even anticipated."
"So it's hard because it's easy to get sidetracked?" James asked, following the logic.
"That, and because magic is fundamentally bound to the natural laws of the universe," Caius explained.
"Mana is merely a raw building block; without precise structure, it is useless. If you do not understand the underlying mechanics of what you are attempting to manifest, your spell will collapse, fizzle, or backfire violently."
James frowned. "What do you mean by mechanics?"
"Take basic elemental manipulation," Caius said, holding out a hand. "In ancient eras, primitive casters believed lightning was simply fire cast down from the heavens. Their spells were wild, unpredictable arcs that burned the caster just as often as the target. But once scholars understood electrical potential, conductive channels, and particle movement, lightning magic evolved. By calculating voltage and resistance, a modern mage can curve a arc of electricity around an ally to strike a target with surgical precision."
Tiny, controlled sparks of blue energy danced between Caius's fingers before vanishing into thin air.
"This principle applies to all advanced disciplines," Caius continued. "Consider spatial magic, such as short-range teleportation. You cannot simply wish yourself to a new location. You must calculate exact spatial coordinates, account for your current momentum, and factor in relative velocity. Otherwise, you risk materializing three feet inside a solid stone structure."
"So teleportation is basically high-level math?" James asked, rubbing his temples as a headache began to form.
"Advanced spatial geometry and vector calculus, precisely," Caius replied smoothly.
"And constructing a pocket dimension? That requires you to fold a localized segment of space-time entirely out of alignment with the primary plane. You must balance internal atmospheric pressure, anchor artificial gravity, and mathematically seal the outer boundary against the void. Miss a single variable, and the dimension collapses inward, crushing everything inside it."
Caius offered a faint smirk. "Which is precisely why most mages leave dimensional creation to ancient entities and stick to throwing fireballs. It requires far less homework."
James felt like his brain was short-circuiting. "That is way too much studying..."
"There are simplified alternatives," Caius added, catching his dismay. "Teleportation, for instance, can be streamlined by utilizing fixed anchors. Instead of calculating raw spatial coordinates, you lock onto the unique mana signature of a person or a pre-established mark."
"So you're locking onto the anchor's signature rather than calculating the raw space?" James clarified.
"Precisely," Caius confirmed as the boundary of the forest finally came into view. "It reduces the mathematical burden significantly—though it requires absolute precision in your sensory abilities."
A/N Took a while but got it done, 3k words, this arc will probably have alot of mini arc of him exploring this new world while battling his failing grades.
For dates, he been gone for a month, and school year begin in september, adjusting a bit, this should be mid october, will say, between the 10 and 14.
Anyway vote with power stones