The Black eyed Children

Mortice

Mortice awoke the next day  his face imprinted with the book he fell asleep at his desk over. Mortice knew much more than anyone could fathom. He was much older than anyone could guess. He was madder than anyone could know.
Mortice was almost never serious, he had a memory of most every bad event in the world, but nothing has ever put him into a serious mood. Until Amber came along, the black eyed children were back, that was enough to make anyone sober a bit. He, had seen it in the beginning.
He remembered his first encounter with them.
It had been a brisk night in the autumn of 1495. He was in London walking in just the same outfit he wears everyday now. Magic at this time was looked down upon, it was possible to get hung or burned at the stake if anyone found out you conjured it. Mortice's powers and knowledge as a result of this were very weak.
Mortice was what you could call a loner. No wife or husband, not even a pet. Though what he did have was his mother, he loved her and was thankful for how she raised him. She was human, so she didn't condone him practicing magic. His father had run off when the witch trials began, and he was left to no device for magic. Though he had his mother, but the thing about humans was that they go rancid. Much like a grape they shrivel up, get wrinkled, and die. That's why his mother lived with him now, she was getting sick, but she still had time, even if not much.
He opened the door to the small building he lived in with his mother. The iron smell of blood filled his nose. His eyes widened  and he ran to the back of the house to see his mother cruelly ripped apart blood pooling around her. Here guts were strewn and squished against the wall. "N-no, NO! MOTHER!" Mortice screamed in a mortified screech he fell to his knees and cried on his haunches.  His grief was short lived as the black eyed creatures came to him. It was as if they were seeping out of the walls. With there deep eyes and snarling grins twisting the faces of children he had seen playing in the streets. He kicked one in the face and screamed. He ran for his life.
Then a hand wrapped around his arm and pulled him into a tall building. He was greeted by a man. The man mixed something together in a bowl, the took a knife to his wrist, green smoke flew from the wound and seeped into the bowl, the man let out a horrid scream. Then turned to the wide eyed, shaking Mortice and handed him the bowl with his bleeding arm. "Drink." He croaked and fell to the ground dead.
Something in Mortice made him drink it, something unknown to him, something he couldn't explain. He had two souls, like Amber. Little did Mortice know, it was his father who had given up his soul. Magic souls work a bit differently, they delicately dance together, carefully guide each other. It was that mans voice, his father's soul's  voice, that had been guiding him through magic ever sense.

Now Amber is being guided by Mortice, you have been listening to Amber's story, because little does Amber know she has magic too. Untapped potential is a good reason for black eyed children to want it her dead. They killed her father whom gave her the magic, her sister who also had it, but they didn't stick around long enough for her. Now, with her unknown magic they would have easily eradicated her, she was a mere human at the moment. They made a mistake with letting her with in a miles radius of Mortice. 

Mortice bounced up in his linky side step ad re-positioned his hat. He grinned a bit.

Train her. Train her in what she knows not.

"Yes."

"Good morning pixie toed poppy, sweet sugar sunshine. You slept well?"

"Good morning, Mortice."