by Tao Wong
Stupid really. No one was going to die here. I’d just lose a little contract. But part of the reason I had stayed as low key—or a drudge, as my sister named me years ago—was that I hated pressure. I hated to make mistakes and lose face.
“Henry?” Alexa called after I’d been standing still for a few minutes.
“Just checking the spell over,” I replied, using a lame excuse. Raising my hand, I started the casting motions required, fingers flicking, twitching, and spreading as I cast. The physical motions were technically unnecessary, as were the words I softly chanted. Magic itself was all about intention and magical formulas, with the formulas more a mental guide than necessity. But the motions and words helped. The spell slid into a universal groove, which helped reduce the cost and difficulty of casting my spell. When formed, the Force Plow was invisible for the most part. To my eyes, it consisted of three portions. The first was a slightly blunted blade that helped level the earth, with excess dirt collected in the second, covered portion. The extra dirt was then compressed into the earth by a rolling cylinder of force.
“Huh. Never seen anyone do that,” Ken exclaimed, grudging admiration in his voice.
I glowed slightly at his words, though I didn’t tell Ken the truth. The spell might look impressive, but it only worked because, relatively speaking, the amount of damage done to the grounds wasn’t that great. I was only shifting around a foot of earth at most at each location. My spell and mana were nowhere near sufficient enough to say, compress asphalt. Yet.
Thirty minutes later, the ground was as smooth as I could make it. I paused, panting, and eyed the glowing blue line from the corner of my eyes. With a wave to Alexa, who walked the grounds again with more fertilizer, I slumped and waited for my mana to regenerate.
A part of me pointed out I should be attempting to meditate. Well, not exactly meditate. That’s the wrong word, even if Caleb does use it. Cultivate? That makes it sound like I’m some Eastern immortal. “Open myself to the world” sounds too hippy-like. Whatever the case, it was a process to expand the refresh rate of my mana, of opening myself to the world’s energy to draw it in. I didn’t of course. Among other things, I sucked at the skill itself, and I looked like a complete fool doing it.
“Why are you stopping?” Ken asked, stomping back toward me and leaving fresh boot prints in my smooth earth.
“Two reasons. I need more mana for the next part. And we need to make sure there’s enough fertilizer.”
“Edith—”
“Was a dryad. She could draw nutrients from the surroundings and pour mana directly into the plants to nourish them. I can’t,” I said. Of course, I knew that theoretically there was a way to do so, but considering my mana pool and my lack of understanding of biological processes, I was so not going to. Healing—or in my case, accelerated growth—was already risky. Luckily, grass didn’t care about cancer.
Ken rolled his big, bulbous red eyes at me again before stomping away. Once again, I took the time to check over the wards and then began the slow process of linking them together in my spell. It was not particularly difficult, just complex, casting Link and holding each Link spell in place as I cast and added another to the chain. Each one led back to me and the tuft of grass I held in my hand, forming a giant spell rectangle bordered by my wards.
When I finally cast my Heal spell, it would trigger the grass to grow, replicating and covering the churned earth with freshly grown grass. I was particularly proud of the fact that since the spell was Linked and targeted at the grass I held in hand, it wouldn’t affect the various weeds, earthworms, and bugs living in the soil. It was both more mana efficient and smarter this way.
“Done,” Alexa called to me and I sighed, looking into the sky as I began the last spell process. Such a simple thing, Heal Linked to the grass with wards to denote the boundaries of the spell. Even as my mana dropped, the untouched grass could visibly be seen growing while the newly tamped-down earth slowly began to sprout. I found myself swaying slightly, the spell draining more mana than I had anticipated, the loss making my face grow pale.
Linked Heal (Modified) Cast
Synchronicity 87%
“Henry,” Alexa called to me as she neared, seeing my predicament.
I shook my head, knowing that if I gave up now, the spell would collapse on itself. While not dangerous—except to me—I wasn’t exactly sure I could pull it off again, not with the pounding headache I’d already gained. Better to complete the job. And it was working. Already, I could see blades of grass poking out of the earth, slowly growing lusher.
“Damn it, Henry.” Alexa stomped toward me and kicked my shin. The sudden pain broke my concentration, the spell unravelling. The backlash of the broken spell made me cry out and clutch at my head. “Lily warned you not to overexert yourself.”
As I sat, cradling my head and eyeing the deep-red flashing mana bar, I growled at Alexa. Damn woman wore steel-toed boots. I was going to have a very big bruise there tomorrow. Yet, as my head cleared a little, I stared around the now-green fields with more than a little pride.
Magic was beautiful, complex, and amazing. Even after so many months training and learning, I still found myself marveling at the fact that I could wield such power. I could bring life to a trampled field and, perhaps most importantly, get paid.
Chapter 3
After overexerting myself spending mana, I’d been relegated to book study for the next couple days. It was frustrating, but I understood their concerns. Lily and Caleb had more than once described the dangers of mana withdrawal and overexertion. Increasing your mana pool required work, just like building muscles. The more you did and the closer you were to your limit, the more you built. However, do too much or too fast, and you created instabilities in your body. Ligaments and tendons took longer to develop in the human body than muscle mass. Mana channels and networks took longer to widen and strengthen than a body’s central mana pool. My levels were, in many cases, Lily directly intervening and increasing my mana pool, but it would take a while for my body to catch up, even bolstered by her magics. Even the jinn feared directly manipulating a human body too greatly. The risks of cancer, tumors, and other unwanted mutations were not to be taken lightly.
And so here I was, lounging in my chair, working my way through another damn book. The door swung open, and Alexa walked in with a slouch from her training session. I frowned, staring at the blonde Amazon as she threw her sports bag full of workout gear, her spear, and toy weapons aside before she stomped up the stairs toward her room.
“What was that about?” I muttered.
Lily ignored my words, either because she had not heard or was refusing to hear. Our relative silence was punctuated a short while later by the slamming of a door and further large, obvious stomping. Minutes later, a door opened and then another slammed shut before the sound of water running through old pipes made its way to us.
Blessed silence ensued for all of fifteen minutes before the sound of loud stomping feet reappeared, and Alexa descended the stairs. Her short hair still slightly damp, the initiate threw herself onto the couch, forcing me to scramble quickly to pull my feet aside before they were squished. Once she was down, she sighed loudly.
“Alexa?” I asked softly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“I see,” I said softly, staring at the blonde. I could push the matter, but I decided against it and instead shifted to a more comfortable position and propped my book open.
A few minutes later, a loud sigh broke the silence again.
“You know, if you have something to say, you could just say it.” Yeesh. It wasn’t as if I had never experienced teenage-girl syndrome, even though Alexa should have been old enough to have gotten over that period. I had to admit, it was amusing to think I was actually finding my sister’s teenage youth a blessing.
“Nothing,” Alexa snapped back at me before she sighed again.
I rolled my eyes and focused on my book, the silence lingering fo
r a few minutes before it was broken by Alexa.
“I might need to leave.”
“Oh?” I frowned, turning my head to the side. Considering Alexa was here because she was “fated” to be, I found her sudden decision interesting. Not that I truly believed in their oracles, but then again, I was a mage. What did I know?
“I’m getting my squire’s test,” Alexa said.
“Pardon?” I frowned again. “I thought you were going to be a faith healer?”
“So did I, but they feel that because of my ‘involvement’ with you, I should be a squire,” Alexa said bitterly.
“But your healing—”
“Will become a secondary function,” Alexa said, “until the jinn situation is resolved.” Alexa shot a look at Lily, the jinn completely ignoring the discussion. “And maybe not then.”
“Oh. I’m sorry about that,” I said softly, grimacing at the fact that somehow my decisions had changed her life. Unintended consequences, they always seemed to play out no matter what I chose.
“No es nada,” Alexa said with another sigh. “I just need to accept the will of heaven.”
I paused, considering her words and then raised a hand slightly to ask the question that had been bugging me. “Is it heaven or the Templars? Because you being here is your heaven’s, but making you a squire seems to be theirs.”
“Our heaven,” Alexa said, correcting me before she sighed. “In my case, it’s the same. Or so says Templar Ignis.”
I grunted, shaking my head. I would admit, the idea that anyone, especially someone I might not agree with, could have such control over my life was anathema to me. Then again, I was the guy who refused to get a proper job forever, even when my family and friends had pressured me to do so, just because I hated working for others. The number of jobs I’d been fired from before I learned my lesson was staggering. I sometimes wondered if my reason for doing so was due to my traditionally minded parents. Their views on what was “right,” the pressure they exerted on me to “fit,” was significant, especially while growing up. Or at least, fit in the doctor, lawyer, accountant, or engineer aspirations they had.
“When are you leaving?” I asked.
“Not sure,” Alexa replied with another sigh, eyes half-closing. “Most squires receive a trial or series of trials they must pass to qualify. They’re often very similar. We used to joke they’d reach into different helmets to pull out what monster and how many to kill.”
“But?”
“But I’m not getting the regular,” Alexa said softly. “I’m not allowed. I’m important.”
“Oooh.” I hissed at her words. I knew that song. The “special treatment” you got when you were unique, potentially better than anyone else. As if somehow, getting something harder and more difficult than what everyone else was doing was supposed to be a damn reward. As if the extra homework, the additional classes were “good” for you.
“Well, if there’s anything I can do…”
“Thank you, but I don’t want to think about it right now. Do we have any quests outstanding? Something that is easy to finish?”
“Mmm…” I paused, considering, and then waved toward the pile of papers which had accumulated in the corner. “Take your pick. Can’t do much right now, but I should be okay for some light work tomorrow.”
“I just want to hit something,” Alexa said softly, a low growl in her voice.
“Right.” I winced at her words and hoped there was a suitable quest in the pile. Because otherwise, I knew exactly what would happen. Alexa would decide I’d had enough of my book studying, drag me to the backyard, and force me to do calisthenics. And then afterward, she would make me practice on the punching bag and target pads. All to give her an excuse to use them as well.
I still had bruises on my thighs… and ribs. And that was with her hitting through the bag last time.
“Do you know what a large group of crows is called?” I shouted to Alexa the next day, my hand held in front of me as the Force Shield twisted and distorted before me under assault.
Mystic Crow (Level 9)
HP: 28/28
“No,” Alexa said as she finished screwing her spear together. Its durable titanium-and-steel construction allowed her to break it down when not in use for easy transportation. Spear locked in place, Alexa stepped forward, the weapon held close to her body and raised toward the sky. “Can you drop your shield partially?”
“Not going to have a choice in a moment,” I said with a snarl. Already, my head was ringing as my spell buckled under the repeated assaults. With an initial synchronicity rating of 38 percent, it was probably one of my worse casts in ages. But surprise and speed had factored greatly into my failure. Alexa, seeing my face distort, nodded.
A moment later, the force shield fell, and the crows descended with a vengeance. Over two dozen crows, each of them as large as a raven with glowing red eyes and claws that gleamed with an eldritch sheen, now had free and unfettered access to us. Luckily, they weren’t helicopters, so many had to beat their wings and twist as they turned in a desperate attempt to reach us as quickly as possible.
Alexa thrust her spear forward, hand gliding down the end as her weapon was launched to its farthest extent and plunged into one crow’s chest. A quick retraction, with a twist of her body as she did so, smashed another crow aside. The injured bird plummeted to the ground, a wing torn. Without pause, her hands shifted on the spear shaft to strike with the blunt end to beat aside another creature.
While Alexa played offense, my fingers snapped and twirled, my mind flowing through spell formulas without missing a beat. It was a simple spell at first—Gust—but I worked to combine it with another spell, Alter Temperature. Together, the pair of spells formed a gust of bitingly cold wind. I poured mana into the spell, the wind blowing perpendicular and above our forms to push the crows away from us, altering their trajectories and chilling their bones.
Gust Cast
Synchronicity 84%
Alter Temperature Cast
Synchronicity 67%
Spell Combination Success 32%
I said chilling because my spell was not powerful enough to freeze them. I swore, the combined spells I had attempted barely doing more than making the crows think it was a nice autumn day. But the gust itself at least sent most of them flying away from us, giving Alexa another shot at reducing their numbers. Most did not mean all, however. One particular bird managed to wing its way toward me, claws tearing at my hastily raised arm. Pain registered as skin parted under razor-sharp claws, skin and cloth doing little to defend me.
My concentration wavered when I was injured, but training with Caleb and Alexa over these months had some effect. I held the spell together, varying the push of mana into it to alter the strength of the breeze it generated. This shifted the crows erratically, forcing them to battle to stay on target while Alexa had her spear flickering through the air, cutting and sweeping at the birds. Soon enough, the ground was littered with injured avian creatures, forcing the pair of us to back off rather than have our feet pecked to death. Occasionally, I’d bat a too-aggressive crow aside—or attempt to—with my trusty backpack.
For a few passes, our strategy worked. Then, a badly timed gust brought a crow that had been about to miss me directly in line with my face. Panicking, I threw a punch, spearing my own hand on its claws but protecting my face. The pain and surprise made my spell fail while the bird’s weight tore its body from my arm.
“Alexa!” I snarled as I kicked the grounded crow away. A flash of darkness in the corner of my eye had me throwing myself all the way to the ground to avoid another pair of crows. Alexa barely reacted to my shout, caught in the middle of a swarm of feathers. I snarled as I stood, taking things into my own hands, my trusty backpack already discarded by my feet. My fingers flicked and twisted as I used my left hand, suddenly glad Caleb had insisted I practice with both hands. Even then, the spell formed badly, the ball of flame nearly missing the bird that was a few feet from my f
ace.
Fireball Cast
Synchronicity 43%
11 points of damage done to Mystic Crow
Literally blown off course by the spell, the crow writhed as flames licked at its body, the flash fire having caught a few of its feathers aflame. Another bird winged its way toward me, and my hasty dodge barely brought me out of range while a wing clipped my injured shoulder. As pain filled my body, I spotted a towering oak tree a short distance away.
“Tree!” I shouted to Alexa, taking off in a zigzag rush during the short break. Many crows had banked, attempting to gain altitude and speed. To give Alexa time, I turned and cast a series of Mana Darts, my left hand working smoother as I manipulated the shorter spell formula. The invisible projectiles slammed into her harassers, giving Alexa a brief moment of respite, which she used to run with me.
Under the more solid defense of the oak tree and with the ability to put our backs to it, we made our stand again, bleeding and battered. We quickly turned to relying on my Mana Darts to harass the creatures and blast them off branches when they landed while Alexa finished the birds. A few bloody and painful minutes later, we stood victorious but injured.
“That. Was. Not. Easy,” I complained, stopping at each word to draw a breath. My chest heaved and sweat covered my body, running into open wounds and sending the stinging sensation through overburdened nerves. I whimpered but still focused on searching for any crows that might be late to the party.
“It was supposed to be,” Alexa said, poking the last of the corpses. When she turned toward me, her eyes widened. “Your hand!”
