Requiem of the unseen

He was increasingly informed that apartments or even entire building complexes were no longer protected by Magnus Glamour's spells. The old spells seemed to simply dissolve, to simply disappear, and that was actually impossible; it could not and must not happen. It was his job to protect the magical beings and humans who lived in this city, to hide their dwellings from human eyes, or to alter them so that humans could not recognize their true nature. At first, the warlock thought someone was playing a joke on him... luring him out and provoking him, as often happened when former bedmates or other magical leaders wanted revenge. For a moment, he even suspected his father and his men, but when he finally found himself in a suburb of New York to see for himself, the desperate and sometimes angry voices were unfortunately confirmed.

The warlock circled the building complex once, then again, more slowly this time, as if he had to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. From the street, the place seemed completely insignificant. Most people who passed by didn't even give it a second glance, to them, it was just a gray, dilapidated building from the late 1950s. The facade looked weird, the brickwork stained and uneven, some windows appeared to be blind, others were covered with yellowed blinds. Even though this building did not appear to be completely dilapidated, it radiated something that did not make people pause and certainly did not arouse any interest. It was simply there, part of the cityscape, meaningless. But Magnus saw something completely different. The glamour was old, not sloppy, but masterfully constructed, reinforced layer by layer over decades. To mundane eyes, the complex was a forgotten block of concrete, to someone with warlock blood, however, the truth was revealed if you looked long enough.

In reality, a building complex of almost anachronistic elegance rose before him. The architecture bore clear Victorian influences... tall, narrow windows with dark wooden frames, ornately curved black iron balcony railings, and a facade of light-colored stone that looked well maintained despite its age. Magnus had a weakness for this aesthetic, and when he created something, it had to be magnificent, it had to bear his signature. Magnus finally stopped in front of the gate and let his gaze wander slowly over the façade. The magic that worked here lay over the building like a fine veil of mist, barely visible but dense enough to distort any perception. It was a refuge for creatures of all kinds who could not afford to be seen.

Somewhere behind those windows lived warlocks who did not want to be found, perhaps an injured werewolf hiding from his pack or his enemies. Maybe even a vampire who should have been officially dead long ago. And all of this was hidden in the middle of New York, right in front of the eyes of millions of people who passed by every day without ever noticing that there was something else, creatures known only from books and movies.

The veil had already been lifted in several places, where the difference between the real and the veiled was clearly visible. Suddenly, the building stood out, and one felt compelled to look and realize that something was wrong. It literally invited the Mundies to approach what they were not supposed to see, to approach what was supposed to be protected from them. Magnus knew that he couldn't repair or restore a glamour spell of this strength in one night, so he had to make a quick decision. Either he took a chance on gradually replacing and renewing the spell, accepting that curious humans would notice and start investigating, or he evacuated the building immediately, hid the residents in another complex, and hoped that they would not attack the others with whom they might even share a rather hostile past. It wasn't always possible to bring vampires and werewolves together peacefully in one place, and warlocks didn't always get along with creatures of a demonic nature. The Shadowhunters didn't always turn a blind eye when they heard violent fights that they should have broken up, so it was difficult for Magnus to make this damn decision... because he also protected these creatures from the Hunters, and he knew that one or two of them in this building were on their lists.

Cursing, he ran his fingers through his hair. In moments like these, it wasn't just his ego that suffered, but also the heart he had put into these projects. This was exactly what he lived for... because he knew what it was like to be hunted for what you were, for what you couldn't change... for what you were born into and couldn't always control because you lacked a guiding or teaching hand. For a split second, he even considered seeking help from the Shadowhunters, but if the wrong person found out about his plans, he would no longer be able to protect his own, so he promptly dismissed the idea.

He had no time to investigate and analyze who or what was responsible for the unveiling, who was capable of destroying his powerful spells, but he recognized the danger, and it was not insignificant... it was very precarious, very alarming. After a full half hour, the decision was finally made: he would evacuate. He had to take this risk, with all its consequences. Nevertheless, he couldn't resist making a theatrical entrance. He didn't want to overdramatize the whole thing, even though that was actually his trademark.

The stubborn wooden door swung open and he leaned over a marble counter where a rather tired looking guard was sitting, drinking from a vial of black blood. Rolling his eyes, Magnus tapped the cold stone repeatedly until he was finally met with sharp fangs.

“Uhh... my friend... your little teeth used to look better, you should take better care of your dental hygiene...”

Magnus chirped, but received only an indifferent grumble in response.

"Well, a rather one-sided conversation, I see. This building must be evacuated, and right now... immediately. We have a tiny little problem with the glamour spell, nothing that can't be fixed... but it will take time. I think... four weeks."

He smiled, speaking in a casual tone, and the vampire didn't seem to take him seriously, something Magnus couldn't stand at all.

“That's what happens when you speak to someone gently and kindly... full of love and affection for this palace where you are safe... but no, no need to thank me... it's my job, after all, isn't it?”

His fist struck the stone, and it splintered under the force of the impact. The vampire flinched and looked into the warlock's yellowish glowing eyes. Only now did he seem to realize that this was no joke. He nodded several times, jumped out of his chair, and set off the alarm, causing panic to break out and the entrance hall to fill with countless Downworlders. 

"Damn... too dramatic, Magnus...that could have been avoided."

He muttered to himself and it took him 20 minutes to finally explain to everyone that he had already found a new place for them and that he would take them there. None of them were enthusiastic, the stronger ones puffed themselves up and complained loudly, the weaker ones showed gratitude and wanted to get to a place where they could remain hidden as soon as possible. This was the next challenge Magnus had to face. If they left this building, they would be easy to find for at least 30 minutes for any hunter in the immediate vicinity, which would be a godsend for the particularly ambitious ones, a knighthood that would bring them much recognition.

"Now, all of you line up in two rows... and then you obediently and closely follow this handsome warlock here... by which I mean me! No one breaks out, no one runs away. I can't create a portal for you, that would be too dangerous, and I can only conceal you to a certain extent, got it? We're going to one of my buildings in Greenwich... there should be enough room for you all there, and it's safe. If any of you decide to cause trouble there, or can't control your fangs, venom glands, or claws, I can't do anything for you... then you're on your own. Thank you for your attention!"

A growl went through the crowd, but they followed him, largely adhering to what he had told them. Only one of them, a new vampire, one of those who could not yet control themselves, broke out, literally tearing apart an old beggar who had sought shelter in a dark alley. Magnus groaned softly, but he couldn't focus on this one escapee... they had to keep going. This would not go unnoticed... the vampire had left a clear trail, and Magnus knew that he would have to pay for it very soon, but he would make sure he looked damn good when that day came...