by Tao Wong
When I was done with the room, I moved to the next, and it was there I found the jackpot. A single, large safe sat closed in the closet, awaiting a master safe cracker. Of course, that was not me.
“Alexa, got a safe here,” I called to the initiate when I walked out.
Alexa smiled at that, turning back toward the human with a predatory look. Bleeding from a split lip and broken nose, the man glared at Alexa and kept his mouth shut.
“Check their wallets. Or around the safe. I’m willing to bet these dumbasses have it written somewhere,” Alexa said to me, her eyes focused on the man. When he glanced downward, toward the stairways, Alexa snorted. “Or maybe the fridge?”
The man’s eyes widened slightly, enough that even I caught it.
“They really that dumb?” I muttered as I trooped down the stairs, taking care not to walk through the growing puddle of blood. I knew we had to do something about all that, but right now, it escaped me. I didn’t exactly have any useful spells for such a situation.
In minutes, I was back upstairs holding the Post-it Note with the combination that had been handily stuck to the fridge with a Walk Away Fatty fridge magnet. I wondered which one of the three had purchased it as I spun the safe. It took me three tries, once for going the wrong way and the second for missing a number, before I had the safe open. I guess if they had been smart enough to do things like understand basic operational security, they wouldn’t be crooks.
Or dead.
As I reached within to pull the stacked cash into the black sports bag I had located, my hand started trembling again. I forcibly drew a breath and exhaled, taking control of my stray thoughts and putting them aside for now. Better to avoid it.
“You think you’re going to get away with this? You don’t know who you’re dealing with! They’ll kill you. They’re not human!” the man shouted, struggling in his chair. “You’re crazy.”
“Why don’t you tell me all about it then? Who these people are,” Alexa said, taunting the man.
“You don’t get it. They’ll kill me. And you. Or worse!”
“What’s worse than death? Well, beyond torture,” Alexa said, and a slightly high yelp followed her words soon after. “Hush… you don’t want me to have to gag you again, do you?”
“They’ll tear your soul out. They use magic!”
“You’re really not very smart, are you?” I said when I walked back in the room, weighed down by the hefty bag of ill-gotten funds. “What do you think I was casting?”
The man paused, looked down at how he was held tight and then started thrashing around in his chair, screaming about the devil. Alexa grabbed a sock and shoved it into his mouth, stuffing it in before she glared at me.
“You had to remind him.”
“How was I to know he was that stupid!” I said.
“You just opened their safe using a Post-it Note from their kitchen.”
“Touché.” With a glance at the now-still, cooling corpses, I said slowly, “We might have a problem.”
“Not a problem. I’ve already called my supervisors. They’re on their way.”
“Isn’t this, you know, part of your test?”
“No,” Alexa said with a frown. “Why would I need to be tested on how to dispose of their corpses? Don’t you know certain supernatural bodies need to be carefully handled? A mutant zombie thrown into the nearby river could cause significant problems. Better to let the experts handle it. Even Templar Ignis would not fail me over the proper use of our resources and training.”
“Oh,” I said, blinking. Well, duh. “So, about him?”
“They’ll handle it,” Alexa said. With the man secured, she walked to the couch and sat, drawing a bag toward her. From it, she extracted a pair of wallets. She opened them and perused the cards within, frowning slightly as she tossed out the driver’s licenses from both.
“Problem?”
“Yes,” Alexa said.
When she refused to elaborate, I walked over to take a look at the licenses. Oh. That made sense. They were from Ashland, down south. While not technically the capital of crime in our little state, it only was a technicality because no politician was going to give out those kinds of awards. It’d be like delivering a Darwin award to the mother of a child. Cruel and unnecessary.
“There a big supernatural presence down there?” I asked Alexa who let out a choked laugh, one that stopped only when she realized I was not joking.
“Is the ocean wet?” Alexa asked rhetorically. “But it’s more than that. The supernaturals who hold sway there, they’re the worsti kind. Ancient vampires, gangs of shifters, blood sorcerers, and demonic cults all thrive in that city. Doesn’t matter how many times the mages or the Templars or anyone else cleanses the place, they just come back.”
“You don’t stay?” I asked.
“Limited resources,” Alexa said. “We’d need to devote a significant number of people to just keep the lid on it. Never mind the fact that a small presence would just be killed in weeks. Anyway, there’s always another demon cult, another ancient monster waking from its sleep, or an artifact that needs containing somewhere else.”
I grimaced at the last, knowing it was a rather pointed example. Not that we had caused much trouble, Lily and me, but the potential for trouble was what made them fear us, forced them to devote their forces. Though, sometimes, I wondered if they really needed as many watchers as I felt there were.
“The drugs?”
“Are downstairs, in the van. I checked and then left them there,” Alexa said.
I nodded and frowned at the bodies and the slowly growing pool of blood. With no trouble coming, I raised my hand and cast Freeze at the corpses, lowering their body temperature and freezing the blood in the bodies and on the ground. Might as well make things easier.
Alexa offered me a slight nod at that, intent on studying the content of the wallets. I watched her for a second more before deciding to head downstairs. Better to hang out in the living room, even if the curtains were drawn, than this room with its corpses. Better to put it out of mind, what I had done.
Sometimes, I wondered if I had made the right wish. If, having given up my mundane life, I also had to give up some of the same morality, some of the beliefs I had previously held. I’d become a killer, someone who took lives without thought. And even if they weren’t good people, I sometimes wondered what it meant about me that I was still willing to do so.
In a few hours, Alexa’s people arrived. It did not take long for them to kick us out, happy to agree we had done our part in tracking down and dealing with the latest shipment. This was but a finger in the dike, but it was sufficient, at least, to be considered completed for her quest, especially since we left them a living, breathing source. Surprisingly, they did not ask about the bag of money I carried out. Then again, it was possible Alexa had informed them of its eventual destination—the coffers of the Brixton Orphanage. Killing two birds with one stone.
Later that evening when Alexa left to donate the ill-gotten funds and check on the repairs, my thoughts once again spiraled. It was a light kick on my shin that drew my attention back from contemplating the depths of my moral depravity.
“Stop it,” Lily said.
“Stop what?”
“Brooding. So you killed some bad people. It’s not as if you’re flaying babies to make a book cover,” the jinn said as she sat on the living room table across from me, propping her head on her hands.
“That’s an interesting example.”
“I’ve had a lot of owners,” Lily said unapologetically. “And you, my dear, are nowhere near the worst. Not even the most naïve. Those rarely survive the week.”
I grunted, rubbing my leg. “But killing—”
“Is bad. I know,” Lily said with a sniff. “That’s what your modern society says, but then they still teach your soldiers how to kill, give guns to your policemen, and have the death sentence for crimes.”
“So, what? Violence is part of humanity?”
&nb
sp; “Violence is part of the world,” Lily said. “Even your vegans kill plants to survive. Ask any treant and they’d call that as a bad if not worse crime than humanity’s war. Humans have killed each other all their lives, for all sorts of reasons. Your body fights off viruses and bacteria every moment of your life to keep you alive. Killing, removing the threats from society’s body, it’s not wrong.”
“But what right do I have to make that decision?” I said, grimacing.
“Did they try to kill you?”
“After we broke in!”
“After they started dealing in a dangerous, nasty drug.”
“Well… yes,” I said slowly. “But—”
“Did you check first? Did you see them selling the drugs? Did they go for their guns first?”
“Yes…”
“Then,” Lily said, tapping me on the head, “You did your homework. You verified they were bad guys. You even went in with a plan to avoid killing them. That things went wrong is not your fault. They went for their guns. The rest was natural consequence.”
“I just…” I opened my mouth to protest and was shushed by fingers on my lips. I glared at the jinn, tempted to bite the fingers which were hastily removed.
“Henry, stop thinking about how you should be feeling. Actually consider. Are you actually upset you killed them or upset because you believe you should be upset?”
“That—”
“Think! Or feel,” Lily commanded me, and I grunted, leaning backward and crossing my arms over my chest. Still, I eventually repressed the surge of anger and actually considered her words.
Did I really feel bad? Actually feel bad? Maybe a little. Not for them but for whatever family they might have had. But they’d made their decision. They’d chosen to live their lives by the sword. And so, was it so surprising they’d die by the sword? Or spear in this case. Did I feel bad they’d died?
No.
I was just upset because somehow, somewhere, I thought I should be. I’d done the best I could to stop them from dying, from being killed. It hadn’t played out the way I’d wanted, and now it was over. They were dead, but it wasn’t something I truly regretted. Once I realized that, I found my chest relaxing slightly, tension I had carried in my neck disappearing. I grimaced, realizing what it meant but dismissed the thought a moment later. Fine. Maybe I was so focused on the type of person I should be that I got myself churned up for not meeting this random belief.
But…
“I’m still worried,” I said, touching my heart. “I… They died, and they left people who will grieve for them. And I know it’s their choice, but…”
“But?”
“But it’s not about them,” I said through a breath, my hands no longer trembling. I looked at Lily, my eyes wide, and bent to kiss her head suddenly. “Thank you. But I’ve got to go.”
Lily looked shocked for a second at the kiss as I walked toward the exit, fishing in my pocket for my mobile phone while putting my jacket on.
“Ma? Everything’s fine! I just wanted to see if you’re free for dinner tonight. No, it’s fine. No, I’m not getting married. Ma!”
Later that evening—much later—I returned and found Lily seated at her usual place in the living room, tapping away at the keyboard and moving her mouse around, occasionally shifting her gaze to the other laptop. I shut the door silently and tiptoed toward the stairs, not wanting to disturb her. I nearly made it too.
“Did you tell them?”
I paused, hand on the banister. I considered the evening—dinner with my family where my mom had cooked an extra helping of stewed soya pork, steamed bak choy, fried fish, and rice for my sudden appearance; how my parents had spoken of their work, the usual grind and politics of working in the office; and we had, as always, stayed away from the touchy topic of my employment—or lack of it. We had talked and reminisced, gossiped about my siblings and then spent the rest of the evening watching an old kung fu movie, indulging in a shared love for schlocky Shaw brothers’ entertainment, but—
“No.” My fingers squeezed the railing as I recalled how I lost the nerve time after time. How I failed to let them know what I was doing. The risks I was taking. The potential visit they might receive one day. “I couldn’t. They were so happy to see me, and…”
“And?”
“And I didn’t want them in this world,” I said suddenly, heat growing in my voice. “It’s beautiful. And amazing. Wondrous and magical. But they were worried because I was taking the bus home, afraid I’d get mugged on public transit. If I told them, they’d tell my siblings, and I can’t—I won’t, get them involved. This world, it’s not something I want them in.”
“It’s hidden for a reason,” Lily said, agreeing with me. “The world has moved on, with peace and civil order for everyone but the few and the strange.”
I couldn’t help but feel the corner of my lips twist at her words. I offered the jinn one last nod before I made my way upstairs to my bed, a part of me amused to realize I was part of the few and strange now. But perhaps before bed, I’d write a letter. One that might explain matters a little more. A just in case, for when and if things went bad.
Chapter 13
“Well, that was a decent attempt. At destroying the neighborhood,” Caleb said acerbically, pointing to the revised ritual diagram I had created. I stared at the corrections I had made to the test ritual he had asked me to look over as part of my studies this morning. “You’ve got channels of power flowing in circles without an exit here, here, and here.”
I blinked, following his fingers to where they traced the floating mana formulas I had materialized from the ritual circle as I pumped in a trickle of mana. I watched the flow of it, noting where his finger traced the air and the slowly growing density of mana at the locations and winced.
“Remember, always have an escape valve. No ritual is guaranteed to be done right,” Caleb said. “Now release it.”
I nodded and altered the formula, releasing the trapped mana back into the ether where the dangerous build-up dispersed. Unlike what most people would think, I didn’t power rituals from my own mana. I kickstarted and guided it with my mana, but a ritual, unlike a spell, actually banked on drawing external mana sources to fuel it. After all, why go through all the trouble of carving, formulating, and enchanting a ritual circle if you could cast the spell yourself? You’d save yourself dozens of steps.
No, rituals were made to be powered from external power sources. It was why low-powered sorcerers with a ritual circle were dangerous. Why a runaway ritual was so dangerous. Of course, most rituals just collapsed in on themselves as the materials used to make the circle gave out before a world-ending event happened, but still, the resulting backlash from an exploding ritual circle could—as Caleb pointed out—level a city block. Not all those gas explosions out there are actual gas explosions.
“But aren’t those escape valves, the gaps in the formula, weaknesses in the ritual itself?” I asked.
“They are, but if your concern is strength, perhaps you should not be attempting such a ritual anyway,” Caleb said. “Just like a door is an entrance to a house, you wouldn’t build a house without one, now would you? Fit your ritual strength to what you expect to contain, but always build the door.”
I grunted, deciding not to argue further with Caleb. Yet, in the corners of my mind where Lily had stuffed my magical knowledge, I could see formulas and spells, rituals that had been created without any such escape valves. Bindings that were meant to last through the test of time.
“If you’re done?” Caleb said, and without waiting for me to answer him, he swept his hand across the ritual, dispersing it. Immediately, the ritual circle began to shift to his commands, adjusting as the circle’s enchantments and formulas adjusted to what he had in mind. It was a casual showcase of power and mastery that made me envy the mage.
“Begin.”
Hours later, I stumbled out of the lesson with spell formulas floating in my mind, arranging and rearranging
themselves while I tried to piece it all together. My brain hurt but in a good way, as borrowed knowledge slowly assimilated and I grasped what had been given to me. I was still miles away from being an actual apprentice, but…
Class: Mage
Level 23 (37% Experience)
Known Spells: Light Sphere, Force Spear, Force Shield, Force Fingers, Alter Temperature, Gong, Gust, Heal, Healing Ward, Link, Track, Fix, Ward, Glamour, Illusion, Summon, Iceball, Fireball, Prism, Empower, Scry & Observe, Confuse
Magical Skillset
Mana Flow: 4/10
Mana to Energy Conversion: 4/10
Spell Container: 4/10
Spatial Location: 4/10
Spatial Movement: 4/10
Energy Manipulation: 4/10
Biological Manipulation: 3/10
Matter Manipulation: 2/10
Summoning: 1/10
Duration: 5/10
Rituals: 2/10
Multi-Casting: 2/10
Enchanting: 2/10
Interestingly enough, my spells had not widened significantly. Oh, I had a few more. Prism was actually just a variation of the initial Light Sphere ward but one that basically allowed me to play flashlight in multiple colors. The light itself did nothing beyond split in color, so it was more a utility spell like Fix or Track than a combat spell. But, as I’ve come to realize, utility spells were probably the most damn useful spells ever. It made me realize how few of them actually existed in my old RPG books. Murder hobos, we all were.
Then again, basic enchanting, which was a new added skillset, probably took care of most needs. After all, the need to layer spells on enchanted objects—like my wooden blocks—was what would make magic truly useful for the populace. When magic—or technology—reached the masses, that’s when change really happened. It amused me, somewhat, that I only got Empower now, after I’d gained some basic knowledge of enchanting. Then again, perhaps it was because I had worked out how to enchant myself that Empower was available. The spell basically allowed me to temporarily place an enchantment on an object, bypassing the need to carve or otherwise layer spells on it by using the spell structure of Empower itself as the container for the enchanted spell.
