She scrolled through the list of theories, shaking her head. "Vampire, vampire, witch, alien, vampire, alien, deal with the devil, vampire..." She muttered to herself. "Ah. Here's one. Angels' blood. Could that...?"

Galathor shakes his head. "No, ma'am," he says, interrupting her in his deep, soothing voice. "Angels' blood is used primarily for protective measures against the infernal. Demons and the like." She frowns and continues scrolling, then looks up again a few minutes later.

"What about a curse? Could a curse bestow unexpectedly long life?" He shakes his head again.

"I haven't heard of anything of that sort. I could check the library, but the chances of any spell that potent are almost nonexistent." She nods, exhaling in frustration as she turns back to the screen. Almost ten minutes elapse before she speaks again.

"And medical technology? Will it have advanced far enough by..." He interrupts her again, shaking his head. "I've checked the time threads over and over. Nothing capable of such a feat will be available as far into the future as I can see."

She frowns, then glances at her watch. "Well, it's ten minutes to four. I've got to get to tea. I'm sure you'll figure something out." She smiles thinly, patting him on the shoulder. "After all, you are the most powerful mage in England. I'm sure you can find a way to extend my lifespan by thirty five years."

She gets up slowly, turning to walk out of the room, then turns back to him. "I do quite like the idea of getting these people to come up with ideas for us, even if most of them aren't of very high quality." He sits down heavily as the door closes behind him, leaning on the desk as he resignedly scrolls down the page of submissions. At least each one was only 500 words long.