It was here. Right here in her hands. The words were clearly written in an educated hand with the utmost in care. Some of them were a bit too large to fit into Annie's vocabulary, but she was always pretty good at reading context clues. Annie November had been granted her ticket back into Vienda.

I shouldn'a even needed a ticket back in, she thought to herself. I got as much a right t'be here as what do all the golly in th'world.

Annie couldn't quite decide if she wanted to do cartwheels out of excitement or if she wanted to scream with rage. She had to get permission to enter the city she'd lived in for almost the past ten years, she wasn't allowed to own anything of substance, and for what? So the clockin' gollies can preten' like they're 'protectin'', that's why. 'Swat the seventen say all th'time whene're trouble happens. 'We're only tryin' t'protec' ye, please don' make us use force, it's fer ye're own good.' We're only tryin' t'juice this power trip's more like it.

The reporter's eyes flashed in anger. She'd read up on why the galdori felt the need to protect the 'lesser races'; Annie knew people who had a few books here and there on subjects they would most likely be thrown in prison just for talking about in whispered conversations. The whole 'contact with the mona' concept wasn't entirely beyond Annie's comprehension, but it didn't make a lot of sense. They're better'n the rest o' us jus' 'cause they can cast spells an' humans can't? Wicks got magic, too, how come we're a 'lesser race'? I'll tell ye why. It's b'cause they're so dependent on th'mona they need t'splain why they use it s'much. It's th'only way their reasonin' makes sense. 'We're better'n ye 'cause we're better at magic, an' we're better at magic 'cause we use it so clockin' much.' But why did the galdori use it more? Why did their importance rely so much on their connection with the mona?

It ent like th'mona do mucha nothin' anyways, she thought. It don't make its own decisions, it don't help people in need...all it does is foller orders, an' even then it don't always work. In her readings, Annie had come across theories as to why the mona did or didn't do things, as well as a few tales of things that happened to people who cast spells the mona 'didn't like'. Magic was only supposed to be used for noble purposes, or at least that's what all the books said. How noble a purpose is settin' fire t'a buncha innocent folk in th'street what just didn' agree wit' each other? The riots b'tween th'Crows an' Eyes...I heard stories at Surwood o' the things what happened t'some o' the rioters. Burns on most o' their bodies, broken bones, bloody stumps from injuries too far t'repair; I e'en heard some o 'em got holes through th'middle, guttin' 'em clean. How noble a purpose is lettin' a golly fling fire in th'streets fer no reason than t'cause a panic?

Annie thought of all the times she used magic herself. Outside of operating a camera spectra and the occasional need to get out of a trouble spot, Annie hardly used spells at all. She rather liked it that way, too; since her field was as weak as it was, most people assumed she was human. It certainly made it easier to get information from people who distrusted magic. Y'know, if somebody gave me th'option to become a full human, I ent too sure I'd say no. Sure as clockin' hells it'd make livin' a whole lot easier. No mona t'depend on. I could take care o' m'own problems m'self.

Annie glanced back to the twins sitting on the steps of their kint, laughing and gossiping the way they normally did. She thought of the two weeks she'd spent being immersed in the Crows and the traveling life of a spoke. She thought of her time at Surwood and learning her family history. Would she really choose to abandon them and her past just to get away from the mona? She thought of the man who had lost his brother in the riot, how he had hated her on sight without even knowing who she was simply because of what she was. Did she really want to spend her life being hated by those around her because of her race? Did she truly want to be under the rule of the galdori who claimed to protect those weaker, but really only wanted what was in their own best interest?

No. No, she really didn't.

The reporter looked back at the girls, who caught her eye and waved. Sidzara crossed her eyes and pulled a face, and Tomeia fell over in a heap of giggles. Annie smirked and shook her head, then reached up to finger the new green streaks in her hair.

Annie November was and always would be a wick, plain and simple. She was fine with that. But she didn't have to be a quiet wick.

She smiled and waved back. “Hoi, chippas, I've got me note! Don' worry, I'mma be back afore 'stime fer supper. Make sure ye get at least one good embarassin' story about Purgi t'tell me when I git back, ye chen?”

Annie turned and walked back to the gates of Vienda, her writ in hand and fedora on head, waiting patiently while the guard reviewed the letter and its contents before handing it back and ushering her into the city. She stood in the street for a moment, feeling the familiar cobbles under her feet, smelling the same smells she'd grown accustomed to for the past ten years, hearing the sounds of Vienda's life echoing in the alleys and buildings. A smile spread slowly across her face as she started walking towards the office of the Kingsway Post.

Alrigh', Vienda, I'm back, she thought. Brace yeself, love, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.