Jasmin settled down behind his desk with his coffee and a pastry, staring down at his paperwork with tired eyes. He was a very young-looking man with curious amber eyes, shiny black curls and burnished bronze skin which all gave off an exotic feel. He was one of the people with an annoyingly fast metabolism who ate plenty but hardly gained any weight. For a long moment he just asked himself why he had to be the one to do this. He hated being in charge of things. The French Elder envied his predecessor, a man who had gracefully retired due to medical problems arising. Why Jasmin of all people as an Elder? It was probably the worst job you could give him. He had been happy as he was. A deep sigh escaped his lips and he took a sip of the scalding coffee. He liked to drink it before it had a chance to cool. He liked the burn. It reminded him that he was alive, and he felt it tasted better hotter. He needed to be reminded he was alive after this one fight he'd been in a while back. He had lost a lot of friends there. These days he was a very detached person, hardly got involved. He was close-ish to about three people. He stared at the papers until the words began to blur into each other, then he rubbed his eyes and cursed himself for relying on the coffee and energy drinks to keep him awake. He decided to abandon the paperwork and go for a walk. He couldn't sleep at his desk, and he usually felt more awake after a walk. He hadn't seen his kids for a week. He had three of them, and two of them currently hated his new girlfriend. The youngest didn't try to build a wall and found Cadence fun. Jasmin sighed again. He missed his children. They were always screaming or fighting and always driving him to the brink of insanity, but he missed them. They didn't know he was over 120 years old now either, which was sweet. Pourri kept the little angels thinking their wonderful parents were in their early thirties. Pourri Emerveiller...that was one big mistake that wasted a good twenty-six whole years of his life...and that wasteful mistake was standing not too far ahead. He hid his grimace and forced his face into a vaguely neutral position, which was ruined as someone barged past him with a half-assed breathless apology. He took another minute to compose himself. That was when they heard them talking. Talking about this Mevolent guy and the crisis at the American sanctuary. He swore under his breath. He had heard about this Mevolent person. That was when he noticed Lydie, Alice and Clarice. Pourri had brought their daughters with her. The daughters who had no idea about magic or why their mother's name was 'Rotten'. Chewing nervously on his bottom lip, he went to talk to her. "What's going on?"
"Somebody attacked us. Jasmin, somebody attacked me and the children!" He nodded, dropping to his knees to check his precious daughters were okay. "I've been told this Mevolent person is going to be a danger to us. To everyone in the Sanctuaries and everyone related to them." Lydie slapped her father's hand away with a glare and spoke.
"This is your fault, papa."
"Lydie!" Pourri snapped, tugging on the eldest child's arm. Jasmin got back to his feet.
"Go to your fathers' place. Leave the kids there."
"I'm not being left anywhere!" Lydie snapped, stamping her foot.
Jasmin sighed. "Meet me back here later. Lydie, we just want you to be safe, both of us." He reached for her again, and again she slapped his hand away. With a roll of his amber eyes, he pulled his younger two daughters into a tight hug and watched Pourri teleport away with them.
Back in his office a few minutes later, he was trying to reach Cadence. She would not answer, but he kept trying to contact her. He thought of her getting caught and of the American Grand Mage wherever she was right now..."Fiable!" He bolted back out of his office and to a small man with very pale skin and wide, dark eyes. "Fiable, I'm going to go to Ireland."
"Are you sure that's wise, Elder Orage?"
"I have...personal business there. I need some help with the arrangements."
Random notes about the Frenchness: Jasmin is pronounced zhas-ME, the other names mean storm (Orage), rotten(Pourri), To dazzle (Emeveiller) and reliable (Fiable)...now I am very tired :)