The difference between you and me is that, at first, I didn’t know what I was getting into.
Mark Kunst, Zahl Chapter.
The flame, unnatural in its origin, at least stopped the man completely. He watched the large flame holding steady in the middle of her palm. Then, Johanna realized the tavern had fallen silent and looking up, saw everyone watching the table. She snapped back the flame, closing her fist.
“Did not expect that?” she asked with a smirk to cover her original irritation.
The man hesitated, before saying, “You are way too young to even be a sorceress. What did you call yourself? A Fire Shaper? What’s that?”
“A sorceress – a Shaper of the mana – that specializes in fire aspects.”
“Like the Burning Walker?”
“He was another Fire Shaper, I’m pretty sure. Never met him, though. Before my time, obviously.”
She realized she’d started getting the upper hand, and pressed on.
“I’m not just a small-trick sorceress too. Got additional Talents, which come in handy when you face a Deep Changed. But that little flame? It’s still useful. I killed my first Canid by shoving that one into its mouth.”
“…”
She could tell he was stumped by the exhibition of a Talent. She didn’t think just displaying that would entirely be enough, but she had to show him that she was to be taken seriously.
“I may have gone overboard. Is there a more private space where we can discuss this further?” she asked.
Miles hesitated. Then he called out, “Jeb? I’m using the side room. Bring me a new one.”
He turned to Johanna, “And you?”
“A beer sounds fine.”
The man stood up and started, but he stopped and looked.
“Mind if I bring one of my former teammates.”
“Not at all.”
He went to a table where three men looked at them curiously.
“Ulrich?”
“Need some help dealing with a sorceress, I see,” one impeccably groomed man said. The second thing she noted after his snow-white hair was the pink-tinted eyes.
“I’m thinking I need a different perspective,” Miles said.
“And you immediately thought of your old teammate. Gee, I’m flattered.”
Ulrich stood, grabbed her hand, and brought it to his lips in an exaggerated gesture.
“Always the pleasure of meeting a fire sorceress, miss Milton, if I heard you right. Ulrich Sengfield, at your service,” he said.
She could have shaken her head at the antics.
“Mrs.”
“Ah. I stand corrected. So, MB wants my advice. This is going to be interesting.”
The obvious albinism had been the first alert. And a “Level 5 thirster” was not looking like it was a specialization, one that he’d missed, starting with the lowercase “t” in it. The full descriptor, once it unfolded confirmed the intuition of a Changed.
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td width="216">
Ulrich Johan Sengfield
</td>
<td width="216">
Male thirster, 42 years, 2 months
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="216">
Unspecialized (accountant)
Level: 5 (8000 XP needed)
</td>
<td width="216">
5 unallocated skill points
XP: 51180
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="216">
STR: 14 (2000 XP needed)
</td>
<td width="216">
AUT: 17
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="216">
AGI: 15
</td>
<td width="216">
PER: 18 (3000 XP needed)
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="216">
DEX: 15
</td>
<td width="216">
EMP: 15
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Mages of America.
High and Dry. Projecting competence and authority was hard. Miles and his friend – a vam… sorry, thirster? Really? – seemed interested enough, and promised to stay open to propositions, and that’s what she was after.