by Kory Shen
The woman lowered her arm and huffed. "Step aside. I don't need to touch you to hurt you." She curled the fingers of her right hand into a strange, claw-like shape.
"Stop, stop! Look, I already took a beating today helping someone. Just listen."
I thought her hand glowed red momentarily, but when I looked again, it was normal.
The woman squinted at me. "Were you at the exhibition today?" she asked.
"Right. Did you see that business with Lexley?"
The woman nodded. "Indeed. A sorry affair."
"Good, so—"
"You're the scoundrel that goes around kissing women. Even now, you asked for my kiss. It all makes sense."
I stared at the woman. "You're kidding. You know I risked myself to save a man back there? To save you just now?"
"Fine. I'm listening, for as long as I can bear your stink. Which won't be long."
"Okay, so I have this deal with a mage. He runs a shop, and he has something I want. But the price is the kiss of a maiden mage. I saw you leaving the tavern earlier, and since you're the only female mage I've ever seen…" I wasn't quite sure how I would convince her to kiss the likes of Grandpa. I sighed. "I have to admit. Grandpa, the mage you need to kiss, isn't exactly a chaste handsome man like me."
The woman frowned. "Of course not. No honorable mage would settle in these barbaric lands. Only unwanted dregs make their way here."
Why was she here, then? I refrained from asking the obvious. "What do you say? A favor for a favor? You can make it a quick peck. And I'll stand by to make sure he doesn't get handsy with you."
The woman made a strange face and laughed, a light, almost musical noise. "Fool. I'll give you the kiss if that will make you go away."
"Really?" I couldn't quite believe my luck. In fact, I didn't believe it. "What's going on? What's so funny?"
The woman shook her head. "Your mage doesn't want me to kiss him. He wants my kiss for a spell he's preparing. Here." She reached down to the burlap cloth, gingerly picking it up by a relatively cleaner corner. She tore off a piece of the fabric, brought it to her lips, then handed it to me.
I took the burlap cloth in my hand. "This is it?" I didn't know much about spells and magic, other than what I had pretended with Sherry. "You're sure he'll take this?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Do you swear by your true name that this is the kiss of a maiden mage?"
Her eyes narrowed, but she answered. "Yes, I swear this will fulfill your request."
I snapped my finger and grinned. "So, you're really a maiden, huh?"
She crooked her fingers into a strange pattern again. This time, I could clearly see that her hands were glowing red.
"Thanks!" I yelled, as I dashed out of the alley.
CHAPTER 5
After running as hard as I could for five minutes, I stopped and looked backwards. There was no sign of the female mage. She was a fiery one, wasn't she? I liked that.
I checked the small piece of burlap tucked into my waistband. Well, at least I had my kiss.
I made a quick trip to a little stream just beyond the city's edges, cleaned myself up, then headed back to see Grandpa. Outside his shop, I hesitated, wondering if I should have brought Sherry again. No, we had a deal already, if a mage's oath was worth anything. I stepped inside.
Grandpa snored softly in a large wooden chair at the front of his shop.
"Grandpa," I said.
He kept dozing.
"Grandpa!" I kicked his chair.
Grandpa woke with a yelp and fumbled inside his cloak, pulling out a wand. He pointed the trembling tip of the wand at me.
"Hey now, it's me. Your favorite royal bastard."
The wand's tip steadied. "We don't serve your kind here. Get lost."
"Are you kidding? Here, I have your maiden mage's kiss." I pulled out the burlap cloth.
Grandpa stood and reached for the cloth.
"Wait a minute," I said. "First, you put away that thing." I pointed at his wand. "Second, if this is what you wanted, you better make good on your end of the deal. Or else." I tried to sound as ominous as I could.
Grandpa snorted and put the wand back inside his cloak. "A mage never breaks his word. Now give that to me."
I let Grandpa snatch the cloth out of my hand. "Is this good?"
Grandpa brought the cloth to his lips and inhaled deeply. He moaned. "Perfect."
"My armor?" I asked, trying to ignore his heavy panting. I had my doubts about what kind of spell the mage had in mind for the kiss.
"One minute," Grandpa said with closed eyes, a content smile on his face.
"Yora Almighty," I muttered. I waited, averting my gaze from the creepy old man.
After what seemed like an uncomfortable eternity, Grandpa opened his eyes. "Very well. Wait here." He disappeared into the back of his shop.
While waiting, I idly wondered whether there were charms that prevented theft. Probably best if I didn't find out. I couldn't identify any of the wares on Grandpa's shelves anyway. It all looked like garbage to me.
There were several loud crashes accompanied by cursing. The sound of metal scraping on the ground grew louder and louder.
Grandpa reappeared.
When I saw what he was dragging, my face fell. It was a thin, dirty piece of armor, the kind that theater performers might wear during a play. Not real armor.
"And I thought the word of a mage was worth something." It was my own fault. Well, nothing ventured, nothing earned. I'd make Grandpa pay me back, somehow, and if I couldn't, I'd make his life a living hell.
I kicked a bucket lying on the ground, spilling the little metal pieces inside over the shop's floor. "You've made a mistake, old man." I moved towards the exit.
"I'll forgive you once for your ignorance. Do that again, and you won't be getting your foot back."
I turned on the mage in fury. "You took all of my gold for that piece of junk? Are you stupid?" I took a deep breath. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself." I started counting to ten inside my head before I did something rash.
Learn the lesson and move on. I'd figure this out.
Grandpa shook his head. "Listen to your betters, you disrespectful dolt. This is an ancient relic of great power."
I glanced at the sad-looking piece of metal. "That? It's a costume. And not a very good one. It's all ugly and old. It doesn't even look like a proper knight's suit."
Grandpa hissed. "This is my final word. I swear by my true name that this armor holds great power. If you don't believe me, that's your own folly. I've fulfilled my end of the bargain."
I was about to give Grandpa a couple true names, free of charge, but I stopped myself. Mages were an unusual lot. If there was even a slim chance he was telling the truth, I should hear him out.
"Okay. But if it holds great power, why isn't someone using it already? What's it doing in this shop?"
Grandpa pursed his lips, as if making a decision about me. He sighed. "It's sitting here because the suit has no value to a mage. Something about our gifts offend the suit's workings."
"Offend?" I scratched my head. "Is it alive?"
"That's the smartest thing I've heard you say." Grandpa wagged a finger at me.
I had no idea what he was talking about. "If you can't use it, why haven't you sold it to a warrior or knight? I'm sure there's some wealthy noble who could offer you ten times the gold I did. Or a hundred."
"You think I would lift a finger to help one of them?" he asked. He picked his nose while scowling. "You and I are the same. You should understand."
"Well, if you're so set on helping the underdog, you could have at least cut me a discount."
Grandpa grinned. "I did. Just because I'm sympathetic doesn't mean that I'm running a charity."
I stepped over to the thin suit of armor. It was covered with cobwebs, rust-colored dirt, and what looked like dried bird droppings. I wrapped the surface with my knuckles. I had expected to hear a hollow, metallic sound, but to my sur
prise there was a muted dull thud, as if the suit was filled with sand. I tried to lift the suit with one hand and found it to have an unexpected heft. How had old Grandpa dragged this here by himself?
Grandpa watched me quietly. "You'll take it?"
I didn't have much else to lose at this point. I suppose I could at least use the armor as some kind of dummy for my training.
A minute later, I was marching home with an empty suit of armor riding me piggyback-style.
* * *
The boys were waiting for me when I arrived back at Vimm's place.
"What's that?" Tavi asked.
Lars walked over and poked the suit. Ollie tugged on a leg.
"Cut it out, guys." I shooed them away, but they lingered. "Don't touch that." I smacked Ollie's hand away.
"Is that knight armor?" Ollie asked.
"Looks like a piece of shit," Lars said. "Where'd you find it?"
Ollie traced a finger along the helmet, then examined the black grime left behind on his fingertip. "Gross. How much did it cost?"
Tavi shook his head. "Jaks wouldn't be dumb enough to buy this junk. He must have stolen it. Or found it in the garbage."
I flicked Tavi's ear. "Scram, all of you."
Since the boys weren't leaving, I ignored them and continued into the barn. I shoved Lars away with the sole of my foot, then shut the doors and dropped a locking plank across them. After some whining and colorful language, the boys left.
I dumped the suit down in the middle of the ground and stepped back to examine the meager fruits of my labor.
"Shit."
It really was a piece of junk. It looked like it would fit me, but the material and design were all wrong. I spread the limbs to examine the joints and check the quality of the construction. Instead of open joints, there was a tough black material. Some kind of chain mail?
The suit was all weird. It didn't look like anything a knight would wear. It was missing pauldrons and had no faulds or tassets. The breastplate was rather slender and tapered. Not impressive at all.
I examined the joints but couldn't find a way to take apart the suit. I brushed away the dirt, but the more I searched, the more confused I became.
I had initially thought that the construction was utter shit, but how had a blacksmith forged a seamless piece of armor? And how was someone supposed to take it off or put it on?
"Come on. You old piece of junk." I leaped on top of the suit and jumped up and down several times.
Something shifted. I stumbled, falling hard to the ground. I rolled, gritting my teeth. My body was still tender from the incident with Lexley.
I pushed myself to my knees, which was when I realized what had caused me to fall. The suit had opened up. Its chest, limbs, and head had burst open, like some devilish torture device waiting for its victim.
Or a steamed lobster bursting open to offer its sweet meat.
I crawled over to the suit and climbed into it, lining up my body with the suit's shape.
Something with delicate legs crawled down my neck.
"Fuck!" I jerked upright, reaching behind me to grab the intruder. It was a brown spider with long legs. I threw the spider to the side, then turned around to examine the suit's insides. I didn't spot any other surprises, so I leaned backward into it again.
I tried to pull the open sections of the armor inward, forcing the suit to close itself, but the pieces wouldn't budge. After a minute of wrestling, I gave up.
A musty odor filled my nose. Nothing happened.
How had I opened the suit? Jumping? Was there some rusted catch that was stuck?
I tried flopping around inside the suit as if I was fucking an invisible woman on top of me. Sherry might have appreciated my efforts. The suit didn't.
My sore back banged against the armor some more, but nothing happened.
Maybe if I flopped harder? For a while, I tried twisting and smacking the armor around.
Still nothing. I rested, breathing hard from my exertion. Thank Yora I had sent the boys away.
What else? If jumping wasn't the trick, what was?
I had one more idea, a ridiculous one. One that couldn't possibly work. One that only an idiot would even consider.
Well, nothing was beneath me. I needed a suit. I needed to win the Open Melee, no matter what.
I filled my lungs, then spoke in a loud, clear voice.
"Listen up you misshapen garbage can. You're about as useful as a leaky piss pot and as pretty as a day-old dwarf turd. You're—"
The suit snapped shut, engulfing me in darkness. I tried to move, but the suit's joints were rigid.
I was trapped.
A feminine voice spoke in my ear.
"That is no way to speak to a lady, Jakson."
CHAPTER 6
I thrashed about, but I couldn't move, see, hear, or feel anything other than the prison wrapped around my body.
"Get me out of here!" I strained with all my might, but my prison refused to yield. I tried to twist my head one way, then the other. I banged my head forward and backward inside the closed helmet. There were no eyeholes.
"Please calm down. I am detecting pre-existing soft tissue injuries. Further erratic motions may aggravate your condition."
I stopped struggling. She had a point.
"Who the fuck am I talking to?" I asked the voice echoing inside the helmet.
"I am Mira."
"What the hell is a Mira?"
"My name is Mira. I am a sentient combat daemon."
I had never been particularly religious, but I didn't like the sound of that. "A demon? So I'm possessed? Will I be damned?"
"Not a mythological demon. A daemon. D. A. E. M. O. N. And no, you are neither possessed nor damned."
"Got it. A demon with bad spelling. Is this armor cursed?"
"No. I am an integral part of the armor's functioning."
"Did a mage trap you here? Bind your spirit to the armor?" What the hell had Grandpa gotten me into?
"Nothing of the sort. I am here to interface between the armor and its user to ensure peak combat performance."
I didn't quite understand everything that Mira was saying, but I liked what I had just heard. "Combat performance? This armor is designed for combat, then?"
"Of course."
My head buzzed with a tickling sensation. My heart thumped. My fingers tingled. I had felt the same way before kissing a girl for the first time long ago.
"Show me." I said. "Show me what you can do."
Mira paused before speaking.
"Combat protocols are currently locked. To proceed, you must take ownership of this combat unit. Would you like to take ownership?"
"Yes," I whispered.
"Initiating user assimilation."
The armor squeezed about me, as if a hundred hands were massaging my entire body at once. A sharp prick stabbed my finger, and a bright flash shone briefly in both eyes.
"What the hell?" I asked. "What was that?"
"Biodata collection," Mira responded. "Initialization will be complete in another moment…combat unit is now unlocked, assigned, and operational."
The heavy weight of the armor suddenly relaxed. I couldn't tell what had changed, then realized that the joints were no longer rigid.
"I still can't see anything."
The entire helmet vanished, giving me a clear view of the barn's ceiling. My eyes closed out of reflex at the sudden light. I reached up to touch my face, but my gloved hand met a solid surface.
I opened my eyes to see my hand groping for my face, but I couldn't touch myself.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"This combat unit performs best in a closed environment. Your helmet provides a 360-degree camera-based field of view."
It was as if I wasn't wearing a helmet, yet my head was still encased inside the armored protection.
Damn. I had never heard of anything like it. Vision Helms only helped in the presence of low light or magical obstructions. Not like this.
Maybe Grandpa hadn't swindled me after all.
I sat up, then came to my feet cautiously. The armor, despite its weight when I had carried it, felt light now that I wore it. It was as if I was simply wearing another piece of clothing, not heavy metal armor.
My sight suddenly filled with a myriad of bright blue letters. I clawed at my eyes, but my hands again only met metal.
"What the hell is this?" There were letters and numbers, but it was all gibberish to me.
"Your combat display—"
"Can you get rid of it?"
The letters vanished. "Am I correct to infer that you prefer auditory feedback?" Mira asked.
"Yes, talk to me. If that's what you mean," I replied. "By the way, why do you talk like that?"
"I do not understand your question. Can you rephrase that?"
"Nevermind." Maybe that's how spirits all talked. It's not like I had much experience with possessed armor. "So about combat performance. What can you do?"
"This combat unit augments your strength and speed, along with kinetic guidance and real-time micro-intelligence."
Strength and speed enhancements were pretty standard for Sentinel-class armor like Power Gauntlets and Windweaver Boots. I wasn't sure what Mira meant by the other features, but I had another burning question first.
"What about weapons? Or magical attacks?"
"I do not use magic." Mira sounded annoyed. "However, you are currently equipped with a tri-beam attached to your left arm."
I lifted my left arm. It was covered in rust and caked dirt. "This?"
"Please hold while I execute a cleaning cycle."
I stood still, and the armor pulsed briefly, glowing red, then white hot. I didn't feel anything, but the dirt around the armor turned into ash that fell away.
I rubbed the residue off my left arm. My newly cleaned left arm had some sort of device mounted on it with three openings.
"Is this the tri-beam?" I asked. "How does it work?"
"Please select a suitable target for a demonstration," Mira said.
I looked around the barn. A practice dummy stood in one corner.
"Use that," I said, pointing at the dummy.
"Target acquired," Mira said. "Your tri-beam is equipped with three different beam weapons, which may be used singly or in any combination. The first is the excitation beam. You may attack the target when ready."
