《Chaos Call》


 Prologue

    As is so often the case, disaster came from a mix of incompetence, and good intentions. Abnormally though, the source was the first interesting point in the whole affair. Captain Rha¡¯Janok, leader of the First Erisian Scouting Force, watched the human broadcasts being played on the main screen.


    ¡°It seems a pity doesn¡¯t it Adjutant?¡± He said to the officer at the pilot¡¯s seat.


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    ¡°I mean, they¡¯re so bound by physics, and logic. They¡¯re all stuck with only one form, and whatever they can scrape out of the earth. Look at that! This broadcast is about an entire war fought just over a small patch of land! A man should determine his destiny by force of will I say. Not by random circumstance!¡±


    ¡°I suppose sir.¡± The Adjutant said nervously. The Captain was politically powerful due to his family''s influence, and thus could not be denied some form of command; however, he had been assigned to the Scouting Force due to his tendency toward rash actions. Not to mention general incompetence. The prevailing theory was if he was far away from any important races, there was less chance he could spark a diplomatic incident. Naturally, all of the bridge officers were keenly aware of this. All of them had been given in-person briefings; by an admiral no less, with instructions to do everything within their authority to reign in his wilder impulses.


    ¡°You know sir, such a place must seem rather boring to someone such as yourself. Perhaps we should-¡±


    ¡°Nonsense Adjutant, nonsense! In fact, I would say it¡¯s incumbent on us to alleviate their suffering. Wouldn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Not at all sir, it¡¯s not our affair. Perhaps we should-¡±


    The Captain continued as if the Adjutant hadn¡¯t spoken. In fact, he appeared oblivious to the growing unease amongst the entirety of his bridge crew. ¡°I know just what we can do! Engineer, prepare a chaos seed!¡± He said, turning to a portly fellow who manned a station to the captain¡¯s right.


    The Engineer balked at this. Partly due to the nature of the request, partly because of his frustration with the captain¡¯s inability to remember his name. ¡°Sir, That would be highly inappropriate. Chaos seeds are weapons of mass destruction intended for ship to ship combat. They¡¯re designed to unravel the fabric of reality. They¡¯re not something you lob at helpless civilians on a planet!¡±


    The captain huffed. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean a full-strength one you fool. Prepare a highly diluted one. Say one percent strength.¡±


    ¡°But sir-¡±


    ¡°Are you defying my authority Engineer?¡±


    Images of his wife and children on the homeworld flashed through the Engineer¡¯s mind. Part of the briefing they had been given included the rules for mutiny. Any orders given by the Captain would fall on his own shoulders, and no one else¡¯s. Mutiny would only be allowed if he ordered them to fire on the vessel or planet of a recognized intergalactic entity, which this clearly was not. Outside of that, there was only one response to mutiny in the Erisian Navy.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°No sir, I will follow your orders. I just highly recommend-¡±


    The captain smiled congenially. ¡°Good, glad we have that straightened out. Carry on.¡±


    The Engineer hung his head as he stalked off. Though the Erisians did not have a religion exactly, they had constructed a god. It had been a highly technical process involving the use of chaos essence to bend the rules of causality in a space, which was then filled with a quantity of will energy. When all was said and done, the god that emerged from the participant¡¯s collective unconscious had been a judgemental one. The Engineer knew he would likely spend his afterlife in one of the planes of punishment for what he was about to do. The more tangible punishment for mutiny extended to one¡¯s immediate family; however, so he accepted it as an unfortunate necessity.


    An hour later, the device detonated on the surface of the planet. The engineer had done his best to ¡°accidentally¡± dilute the device even further, but no one was prepared for what happened next. The thing was, that the nature of the energy they named chaos was in fact chaotic, making it unpredictable in any quantity. What¡¯s more, thanks to intergalactic law, no one had ever detonated such a device on an inhabited planet before. The Engineer watched stoically as the planet¡¯s atmosphere burned. The Captain sighed.


    ¡°Well damn, I really thought that would go better. Still, at least we freed them from such a miserable existence eh?¡±


    The entire bridge staff was silent, and no one looked at the captain. In fact, though the captain¡¯s words weren¡¯t broadcast, most of the ships crew was simultaneously silent as they watched the world beneath them suddenly turn into a ball of flame. Most of them didn¡¯t know what had happened, and simply carried on with their duties; assuming the captain had gotten bored, and done something crazy to an uninhabited planet. The majority of the crew had only ever known him as a rather eccentric drinking buddy they were obligated to spend time with after all.


    The bridge crew knew differently. After a full minute of silence following the captain¡¯s statement, the Engineer spoke up.


    ¡°Permission to leave the bridge sir?¡±


    The captain nodded nonchalantly. ¡°Permission granted.¡±


    The Engineer strode to the transport pad, and winced as his molecules shifted from one location to another, specifically the space allocated as officer¡¯s quarters. Entering his personal living space, he sat down at his desk, staring at the terminal screen. He remained this way for a full two minutes before he began writing a report to the admiralty marked **URGENT** That done, he next wrote a message addressed to his wife, with a second message for his firstborn son to read.


    The former officer of the First Erisian Scouting Force opened a drawer in his desk, and pulled out a conical object. It had been given to him as a memento by his grandfather several centuries before, when the stodgy old man had left for war. That had been his grandfather¡¯s third enlistment, and the last time he had seen him alive. The former officer caressed the object lovingly, remembering his grandfather for a moment, before putting the weapon to his head, and pulling the trigger.


    A beam of light lanced from it; piercing his corpse, and the wall behind it before his grip finally slackened enough for the trigger to reset; ending the firing sequence. His body crashed to the floor, taking the desk and terminal with it. On the screen his final letter to his wife flashed.


    To: Ihl¡¯Lora


    I love you with every fiber of my being, but there is a place for love, and a place for punishment. I am headed for the latter. I have done something so horrible that I would gladly give back the love we have shared, and draw upon myself all the suffering of all the hells, if I could only take back a single decision I made. Do not remember me. Tell the children to forget I ever existed. Burn all evidence that I ever lived. I do not wish any fragment of the stain I bear to touch any of you. Forget me.


    -Ihl¡¯Rezen

 Chapter 1

    Several hundred years later....


    Ellen woke from her slumber with a start, already sloughing off the remnants of a strange dream. Her sword lay propped up next to her pillow, and she grabbed it reflexively in passing; strapping it to her back as she used a mirror to smooth the night¡¯s sleep from her hair. Her hair was blond, and wavy. Cut to ear length in a popular military style used by mercenaries, and professional soldiers. Her face, originally smooth, and cherubic, had been lined by scars, and pitted by work from a hard, violent life.


    ¡°Not like some prissy mage.¡± she said aloud, satisfied with her appearance. In truth, she didn¡¯t much care what she looked like, but as a mercenary, clients wanted someone who looked professional. The rough and tumble crowd may get hired by units, but clients responded best to someone different. A hybrid of the upper-crust professional types they were used to dealing with in their daily lives, and the stereotype they imagined when thinking of a mercenary. She smiled at herself in the mirror. The civilized barbarian. That¡¯s what she liked to be.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s funny you have such a thing against mages when you¡¯re such a powerful magic user yourself.¡± Her partner said from behind her.


    She turned to face him. He was half a head shorter than her, and thin. Not to an unhealthy extent, but he liked to maintain the appearance of frailty. It made opponents assume they should try to overpower him, when speed was his specialty. By the time their powerful strikes connected with the space he had occupied a moment before, their head was already falling from their shoulders.


    ¡°Ha! Hey Blaise. I¡¯ve got nothing against magic users. I¡¯ve got something against mages because most of them are pissants who see magic as a way around having to work for what they want.¡±


    He shrugged, and smiled slightly. ¡°Fair enough. You ready to go? We¡¯re meeting a client later, and we should leave soon to get the lay of the land.¡±


    Preparing the room before client meetings was one of the tactics Blaise liked to use to eke more money from the clients. He had found an ancient tome about an old form of mental magic named ¡°psychology¡± years ago. Ever since then, he had gone on about the importance of ¡°setting up triggers¡± and ¡°environmental preparation¡± when establishing new business contacts. Supposedly he could surreptitiously convince them to pay more money this way. Ellen was dubious about his ability to trick people into giving up money they hadn¡¯t wanted to spend, but she liked having the opportunity to check for traps. Mercenaries with reputations tended to attract personal ire from their targets in a way nameless grunts hired from mercenary companies didn¡¯t.


    ¡°So who¡¯s the client this time?¡± She asked Blaise. He was better at dealing with other people, which meant he was in charge of handling the business side of their partnership.


    ¡°I¡¯m actually not certain this time. We¡¯re meeting them in that cafe by Macy¡¯s Castle.¡±


    Macy¡¯s Castle had another, more official name, but for the life of her Ellen couldn¡¯t remember what it was. Some past feudal lord had claimed the old ruin, fortified it, and left the old metal lettering intact. Some people claimed it was a relic of the time before the great flame, a disaster hidden in the mists of time that had scoured great swathes of the world. Ancient or not, it loomed over what was otherwise a small castle town in the petty kingdom of Calivern; on the western edge of the American continent.


    Ellen looked at him sharply. ¡°I thought we agreed no more anonymous clients? Remember last time?¡±


    Blaise returned her glare with a sheepish expression. ¡°I know, but they¡¯re not actually anonymous exactly. It¡¯s more that they don¡¯t want to reveal their identity until after we sign the standard non-disclosure paperwork, and have it legally notarized. I guess it¡¯s some kind of secret wetwork, and they don¡¯t want their name broadcast.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure there¡¯s much difference, but fine. Just remember that I told you so when they leave us holding the dagger like last time.¡±


    The pair occasionally took on the more unsavory kinds of work when they were short on money. This included assassinations, and the previous anonymous client had turned out to be a government official who used them to eliminate a rival. He then influenced the investigation, making sure they received the lion¡¯s share of the blame. To this day, they were still wanted in the Kingdom of Idano.


    ¡°This won¡¯t be like last time I swear. This will be a proper face-to-face once we sign the confidentiality waiver.¡±


    She sighed, but allowed him to lead the way to the cafe. They were pleased to find no sign of any threats, and Blaise was able to prepare the area to his satisfaction. With that, the pair settled in to wait, both nursing cups of coffee. Nearby, a man and his son were having a very animated discussion about theoretical magic that she had to restrain herself from joining when a voice came from behind Blaise.


    ¡°Hello, party of two for Mr. Shadow?¡± Blaise stiffened, disturbed that he hadn¡¯t heard the man coming at all, but recovered quickly.


    ¡°Indeed, mister...?¡±


    ¡°Groghause sir, Jason Groghause. I am a clerk in Mr. Shadow¡¯s employ.¡±


    ¡°Very well then. How would you like to proceed?¡± Blaise asked, one eyebrow raised.


    ¡°If you will follow me, we have prepared a room in the basement of the establishment to allow us privacy while we conduct our meeting.¡± Ellen didn¡¯t like this man. He claimed to be a clerk, and spoke like an aristocrat; but his posture was one of a trained killer. It was a hand-to-hand  defensive stance she recognized from her lifelong study of combat. His eyes scanned their movements, and his surroundings in the same manner as her own. His presence felt like a threat to her.


    ¡°That sounds lovely.¡± Blaise said brightly, not betraying any hint of the irritation Ellen knew he felt at having his preparations foiled.


    They followed Jason down into the cellar, pausing a moment as they entered to adjust to the dim light. In the center of the floor space, was a desk. Behind the desk were three chairs, Two more lay in front. The space was lit by a large candle ensconced in a groove within the desk. Jason sat down in the leftmost chair behind the desk, motioning at them to sit in the front two chairs. They did, and he pulled a well-worn leather folder from a drawer within the desk.


    ¡°Now, I have here two copies of a standard issue mercenary non-disclosure form. I¡¯m quite sure you are familiar with it, but you may take as much time as you wish to inspect the wording. My clients are prepared to wait.¡±


    It was a test, and both sides knew it. If they took too long reading the document, they risked giving offense to the client, or appearing unsavory. If they didn¡¯t read it at all before signing, the client would likely judge them incompetent, potentially reducing the amount he was willing to pay. Blaise scanned through the document deftly, gleaning the highlights as best he could without spending too much time on any one portion. Finally, he nodded.


    ¡°Everything seems to be in order.¡±


    Jason nodded, handing them quill pens, and old-fashioned letter openers. The mercenaries made no comment as they opened gashes on their hands, and dipped the quills into the welling blood. Blood-bound contracts were a time-honored tradition. Any mage worth his salt could track a person via their blood. Ownership was a powerful magic in it¡¯s own right.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°Lovely, I will be right back.¡± Jason told them after having waited a moment for the blood to dry. He gathered up the two sheafs of paper, and retreated up the stairs. The duo remained silent. Anything they said could possibly be overheard by a surveillance spell at this point. The clerk soon returned, followed by the man and boy Ellen had seen arguing just prior to relocating.


    ¡°May I present to you his grace, Duke Cal Liventius, and his firstborn son, Saran Liventius.¡±


    The duke was a middle-aged man, with brown, salt and pepper hair. His face was lined, but in a way that spoke of laughter. He wore clothes that were well-made, but not ostentatious. If Ellen passed him on the street, she¡¯d likely think him a mid-level merchant. His son on the other hand wore a long black robe like a wizard from a fairy tale. It was complemented by copious eyeliner, and hair that was clearly died jet-black. She could tell because the roots were a bright reddish color. He seemed lean, and low on muscle-mass; though it was hard to tell beneath the billowy robe.


    Ellen wondered if he attended court like this, and had to restrain a laugh at the absurdity of the notion. For his part Blaise¡¯s face remained impassive, and inscrutable.


    ¡°Greetings to the both of you.¡± Blaise said, bowing at the waist. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.¡±


    ¡°Likewise for us.¡± The Duke said, nodding. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re wondering about all the secrecy, so I say we get right to business.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Blaise said, neutrally.


    The party of nobles sat down in their seats, adjusting themselves for a moment before the duke continued speaking. ¡°As you might imagine, someone of my rank has a number of enemies. People who disagree with my policies, or think my seat should be theirs.¡± The mercenaries nodded silently. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve recently gotten wind of an assassination plot against my son. That is; information, but no proof. You see the king¡¯s half-sister Emerilla has a claim upon my title. Saran is my only child, and were he to fall, she would have a very high chance of inheriting when I die. Aside from my personal stake in this matter, she is already counted as Duchess of another county. Were she to consolidate power in such a way, and handle the politics of the matter correctly, she could conceivably usurp the king himself.¡±


    The mercenaries remained silent. They were both familiar with the dark workings of internal politics, and knew they had nothing to contribute on the matter. ¡°All of this is leading up to your mission. I need you to escort my son to the University of York, and act as his guards there while he finishes his education. The king has decreed that all nobles must receive a formal university degree before they are considered adults. By sending him to York, on the other side of the continent, he will hopefully be safe from her machinations. From there, we have plans to ensure proper succession once he becomes a legally recognized adult.¡±


    The mercenaries nodded. It was a sensible plan. Blaise began to discuss payment, when Jason shut him down. ¡°Before we get to that, we require information from you. We know your reputations, but you are so well-traveled, it has been difficult to track down verifiable records on your abilities. To put it bluntly, we wish to know what we are purchasing from the standpoint of hard facts.¡±


    Blaise nodded. ¡°Ellen is a Spell-Blade, accredited by the mercenary guild, and one of the top three in the guild in terms of ratings. Besides that she has devoted her life to all manner of martial disciplines, and picked up or invented a number of spells not contained within the official spell-blade curriculum. You can understand, we do not give out specific details on such things freely, as information is the greatest weapon. For myself, I am the top-rated Shade in the entire mercenary guild, and skilled in the relevant techniques. I also have masters degrees in medicine, magical theory, and molecular physics. If I pursued it as a career, I would likely be a more highly accredited teacher than most of the professors at our destination. Individually, we are rated as being equivalent to a small platoon of regular troops each, and together our different skill sets multiply that exponentially. All of this information is of course on-record at the mercenaries guild, but our files were sealed due to our high rankings. If you have the proper consent forms, we will of course sign for consent to view them.¡±


    The Duke¡¯s son voiced his opinion for the first time, scoffing derisively. Blaise raised an eyebrow in his direction. ¡°Something I might clarify for you young sir?¡±


    ¡°Battle magic? Really? That¡¯s all you bring to the table?¡± The young man said.


    ¡°I would hardly say that is all we have. We also wield martial prowess, and considerable experience in our fields.¡± Blaise replied, the irritation cracking his professional veneer.


    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ so old-fashioned. Like, there are just so many better ways to do things these days.¡± The Duke¡¯s son replied haughtily.


    ¡°Indeed? I assume you practice something you deem better?¡±


    Saran smiled widely. ¡°Hit me with whatever spell you want. See what happens.¡±


    Blaise looked to the Duke, who had his head buried in his hand. Next to him, Jason rolled his eyes, and nodded. It was clear this wasn¡¯t the first time they had had this particular argument. Blaise turned, and nodded at Ellen, who¡¯s magic was better suited to the task. Saran smiled widely at her, encouraging. She looked at him consideringly for a moment, raised a hand, and fired a small snowball directly at his face. The air around him distorted for a moment as it got close, only to disappear. A moment later she startled as she felt a rough impact against the back of her head.


    ¡°See? Isn¡¯t Spacial Magic better? It¡¯s so much more mana efficient too. Rather than wasting all my energy on big attacks, or swinging a sword around, I open up a little tear, and the enemy gets their own attack back.¡±


    Ellen looked at him for a moment, unspeaking. She held one hand to the side under the table, while the other remained where it had been. Silently, her hand to the side casted another snowball and her primary hand casted one directly at his face a moment later. The first snowball arced around the desk as if guided by an invisible hand; while the more obvious one streaked toward him, drawing his attention. He smiled confidently right until the moment where the guided snowball smacked into his leg. She had added harder snow to this one until it was more solid, almost ice. He exclaimed loudly ¡°ow what the-¡± right before the other snowball impacted his face, his attention having been drawn away from his spell. To her amusement his father whooped with joy, laughing heartily. Saran narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°Best two out of three.¡±


    She nodded. This time she casted a snowball toward his face, and then immediately whipped her other hand around, casting one behind her head. Saran¡¯s eyes widened, but he was too late as the snowball she had cast behind her flew through the tear in reality. It impacted wetly against his face, and a moment later the other one did as well. His father was nearly falling out of his chair with laughter at this point, clapping with applause. Even Jason was looking away, trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin behind his hand. Ellen turned and nodded her head at him.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a bad spell, but it¡¯s what we call a gimmick spell. A gimmick spell only works once. If the enemy survives then it loses its value. Use it twice against the same enemy, and anyone worth their salt will find a way around it. Or they¡¯ll turn it against you like I just did.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡± He said sullenly, and he used his magic to create a visual distortion around himself, making it impossible to see his face.


    The duke wiped his eyes, regaining his composure. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s just you have no idea how long we¡¯ve been listening to him brag about how superior Spatial Magic is, and how the other schools are just soooo outdated. It¡¯s good to see him taught a lesson for once.¡±


    Ellen smiled at him, and nodded; doing her best to honor her agreement to let Blaise do the talking. For his part, Blaise smiled a predatory grin.


    ¡°If you wish, we would be happy to continue teaching him as we travel in exchange for say an extra thirty percent? We might even throw in some of Ellen¡¯s homemade spells if we feel he is up to learning them.¡±


    The Duke sobered for a moment when he mentioned money. ¡°Make it twenty-five percent, and you will teach him the spells the moment it¡¯s not dangerous for him to learn them. I won¡¯t have my son becoming overly reliant on the protection of others.¡±


    Blaise nodded. ¡°A wise precaution. Very well, we accept.¡±


    What Blaise and Ellen both knew, was that they would have done it anyway. The most difficult part of any escort job was always the client. A client who was incompetent at defending themselves was not only more vulnerable, but also made poor tactical decisions in life-threatening situations. Given that they were facing a long-term guard, and escort mission, they would have done anything to reduce the burden on themselves. Even teaching custom-made shield spells for free.


    Jason interjected at this point. ¡°We will of course check your credentials as you have stated them.¡±


    The Duke nodded, and spoke. ¡°Other than the formalities, consider yourselves hired.¡±


    That decided, the group disbanded, the mercenaries leaving while the Duke attempted to talk his miserable son out of hiding.

 Chapter 2

    A week later...


    ¡°Pay attention please,¡± Blaise said. This was the second time he had asked politely, and Ellen knew that if the boy continued being difficult, the third would not be as pleasant. The mercenaries had chosen to wait to begin Saran¡¯s education, wanting to get out of the Duchesses sphere of influence before they slowed their pace.


    ¡°But seriously,¡± Saran whined. ¡°I already know this stuff.¡±


    ¡°And I told you before that I don¡¯t know what you do or don¡¯t know. For that matter, you have no idea what you don¡¯t know. I won¡¯t teach you proper spells, if I¡¯m not confident you can use them safely.¡±


    Several scorched patches of grass attested to Saran¡¯s lack of control over his magic when they asked him to display a spell not based on Spatial Magic. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I have to learn other kinds anyway. I mean I could just learn other spatial spells. I was never very good at other kinds anyway.¡± He said, looking down at the ground.


    Ellen raised her hand to offer her input, and Blaise nodded. ¡°Saran do you want to hear a story?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Ok?¡±


    ¡°When I was younger, about your age, all I wanted to be was a Spell-Blade. I practiced, and I trained. I put every spare moment of my time into it. I did this because I thought it was cool, and because it made me feel unstoppable. One day I was on vacation, resting at home, away from the academy I trained at. A group of men showed up, and attacked my family. You see, my father was leading a labor strike, and the local noble was not happy about his mine being stopped. He sent those men there to kill my father, and I grabbed my sword to defend him. Unfortunately I was too late. I ran outside, and watched from a distance as the men slaughtered him where he stood. The only thought in my head as I ran toward them was if only I had a ranged attack. Something I could use to kill them from a distance before they could kill my father. But spellblades as a class didn¡¯t have any such thing back then. I had to run over a hundred yards at a dead sprint to reach them, and they had already started in on the rest of my family before I could. My mother lost an arm, and my sister lost her virginity. Ten men lost their lives to my blade in melee combat, and I nearly died of my injuries.  All because I was too stubborn to listen when people more experienced than myself told me I needed to broaden my field of study.¡±


    Saran was looking down at the ground, face clouded. After a moment he spoke. ¡°Why¡­ why don¡¯t you hate us for what happened?¡±


    ¡°Us who?¡±


    ¡°Nobles.¡±


    She smiled softly, and ruffled his hair. ¡°I did for a while, but all nobles didn¡¯t kill my family, only one. When I put him in the ground, I resolved to let go of my grief before it destroyed me.¡±


    He looked away again, as if unable to bear her gaze. ¡°I think¡­ I think most nobles would have done the same thing, in a similar situation.¡±


    She nodded, still smiling. ¡°But not all.¡±


    He nodded back, still not meeting her eyes. She spoke again. ¡°Did you want to hear the second part of the story?¡±


    He looked back into her face, startled. ¡°There¡¯s more?¡±


    She began speaking again. ¡°After I stormed the noble¡¯s manor, tore through his guards, and left his head on a pike outside the mines, my head cleared enough for me to plan my next moves. I wasn¡¯t subtle with what I had done. I fled the country, earned my keep as a mercenary, saved enough money, and entered a college under an assumed name. This time I learned all the theories, and schools of magic I missed the first time around. By the end I had invented a new style of spellblade that channeled magic through my weapon, rather than just infusing it. Yes there is a difference between the two. These days, my style is the standard, and the old style is mostly forgotten.¡±


    ¡°What about your family?¡± He asked, looking mollified by the more upbeat second half.


    She looked away. ¡°When I finally tried to get in touch with them, my neighbor intercepted the message, and passed on what had happened. I was branded a traitor for high crimes against the state. In my home country, when someone is branded a traitor, their whole family is branded with them. My mother and sister were hung for my crimes.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Saran looked away again. ¡°But that¡¯s not¡­¡±


    ¡°How stories like this are supposed to go? Heroes get those kinds of stories kid. I¡¯m no hero. If anything, I¡¯m the villain in this story. That noble may have killed my father by ordering his death. I may have killed him through my failure to save him. Perhaps he killed himself when he decided to strive for something greater. When I ask myself who killed the rest of my family though, there¡¯s only one answer. It was my rash selfishness that killed them.¡±


    Saran was staring into her face now, searching. ¡°What¡­ Why did you tell me that story? What did you want me to learn?¡±


    She smiled at him sadly. ¡°If you want to protect yourself, then you need to learn more. If you want to protect the people around you, you need to learn everything you can.¡±


    He nodded with a newly determined expression, and looked at Blaise. ¡°Alright fine. Teach me.¡±


    Blaise nodded silently. He had never heard her tell her story before. Any time they had spoken of her past, her life started in the college. Suddenly he realized Ellen was probably not her real name. After considering this for a moment, he wrenched his mind back to the present. Time for circumspection later.


    ¡°As you know, magic stems from a disruption of the normally stable metaphysical field. The primary source of this disruption, outside of the occasional random fluctuation, comes from the thoughts of sentient beings.  By mentally programming the right set of equations, you can shape the way in which your thoughts disrupt the field, producing predictable, repeatable effects. Do you know what happens when those thoughts aren¡¯t shaped properly, or when magic is applied with no direction whatsoever?¡±


    Saran nodded. ¡°Fire. The magic gets released as uncontrolled energy, which then manifests as fire for complicated metaphysical reasons.¡±


    ¡°Close enough. This makes the fireball one of the easiest spells to manifest, but one of the most difficult to control. Can you create one now?¡±


    Saran didn¡¯t even say anything, just held out his palm, a ball of flame appearing inside.


    ¡°Now, do you know why it is so difficult to keep it contained?¡±


    Saran gritted his teeth. It was taking all his concentration to keep the fireball in the proper shape, prevent it from bursting outward. Trying to do this, and think of the appropriate answer was difficult. ¡°I¡­ it¡¯s¡­ chaotic. Since I didn¡¯t create it with any programming, there¡¯s nothing for my-¡± The fireball began drifting into a more oval shape, and he had to stop speaking for a moment to fix it. ¡°Nothing for my commands to interact with.¡± He finished.


    ¡°Ninety percent correct. It is raw mental energy, meaning it does respond to raw will, much like it is doing now. The chaotic nature of the energy is responding to the emotional centers of your brain, rather than the logical ones. Do you know why you have been having problems with this spell?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m emotionally unstable?¡± He ground out as a spike of flame jutted out for a moment before he retracted it.


    ¡°Because you mistook the raw chaotic flame for the actual fireball spell. I am not blaming you for this, your tutors should have corrected the behavior. Instead of releasing the flame as an uncontrolled burst which you must then will into obedience, layer on parameters to define the spell first. Then release the energy with those parameters in mind. Extinguish the flame you are holding, and try it that way.¡±


    Saran nodded absentmindedly, distracted by the titanic effort of drawing the energy of the fireball back into himself. Once his task was complete, he started to cast again, but stopped.


    ¡°What parameters should I use for this? You haven¡¯t told me the specifics.¡±


    Blaise shrugged. ¡°You know enough of the basics from your study of spatial magic that I feel confident you can construct them for yourself. Schools often teach spells with predefined structure, only leaving room to change smaller details. This makes it easier to manage teaching large groups. I feel this stifles ingenuity, and adaptability. I want you to become accustomed to adapting the structure of your spells to what you need from them on the fly.¡±


    Saran nodded. He could already see a number of ways to modify his spatial magic with this new concept, but unfamiliarity was making it difficult to focus on creating the fireball he was supposed to be working on. Finally, he puzzled it out, rechecked to make sure he wouldn¡¯t blow off his arm, and cast it. This time, the fireball sat in his hands needing no effort on his part to maintain it¡¯s shape.


    ¡°Good. As you can see, the fireball is now a self-contained entity; much like you or I, though without sentience. It will operate according to the parameters you set for the duration of it¡¯s lifespan.¡± As he was speaking, the fireball winked out of existence suddenly. ¡°Ah, I see you gave it a set diameter. Scaling diameters will allow for greater mana efficiency.¡±


    ¡°Wait... what?¡±


    Blaise eyed him consideringly. ¡°It adheres to the parameters you give it as precisely as possible, and the mana held in the spell is slowly consumed by the spell¡¯s framework. If the spell has a set diameter, the mana will be consumed at a set rate. If, however, you allow the diameter to scale according to the mana available, it will consume less and less mana as the framework gets smaller. Just remember that overcharging a too-small framework can have explosive results. I think that is enough for today. By our next lesson, I want you to have designed five wholly original spells. I don¡¯t care which school or element they belong to. Your goals are learning comprehension, and practicality of the spell.¡±


    Saran nodded his agreement, his mind roiling from the mixture of his recent mental efforts, and the aftereffects of Ellen¡¯s story. He knew that his outlook had been changed irrevocably today, and he looked forward to what else was in store for him.

 Chapter 3

    Two days later¡­


    Blaise held up his hand to stop the party. Holding his index finger to his lips to command silence, his body became transparent. Ellen and Saran tracked his movements until they lost the slight distortion of his outline. Saran looked at Ellen, and held his hands to the side in the universal ¡°what¡¯s up?¡± gesture. Ellen shrugged her response, and motioned for him to get down. They had been taking the time to drill hand signals into him as they traveled, and he obeyed unquestioningly. They laid in the grass a foot from each other for what felt like hours, the only sounds the soft sigh of their breaths. Saran saw the depression in the grass in front of him, just before Blaise dropped his transparency.


    Blaise crawled slightly forward so he could whisper into Saran¡¯s ear. ¡°What do you know about goblins?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re the children of dragons.¡± Saran said as if speaking from rote memory. ¡°Dragons give birth to thousands of eggs at a time, which hatch as goblins. Though dragons are sentient, goblins aren¡¯t. If one manages to absorb enough energy from the things it kills, that one evolves into an orc, which is the adolescent form in between dragons and goblins. Other than that goblins are essentially just ravenous beasts, and desperately try to eat any living creature they see. They generally travel as a horde, and will gladly die in droves to take down difficult prey.¡±


    Blaise nodded approvingly. ¡°Good memory, but I was thinking more along the lines of resistances?¡±


    ¡°Oh, well resistant to fire, and heat because dragons. Weak against cold because they¡¯re cold-blooded. Their scales are tough, and hard to cut, making them difficult to kill without magic. Other than that no special resistances.¡±


    ¡°And Orcs?¡±


    ¡°Same resistances, but they¡¯re smart. Cunning predators rather than a hungry horde.¡±


    ¡°Good, then you are prepared to deal with what is ahead.¡±


    Saran felt a sinking feeling in his gut. ¡°There¡¯s a horde ahead isn¡¯t there?¡±


    Blaise nodded. ¡°They¡¯re coming this way. I believe they are tracking us by scent, which would make it difficult for us to escape in the long-term. If we flee, they will follow us wherever we go, and there are serious legal penalties for those who lead a goblin horde to a town. To be honest, by ourselves me and Ellen could easily defeat them; but, it would be dangerous if we did this and tried to hide you at the same time. The Orcs would likely go around us to hunt for you, seeing you as easier prey. Instead, we will treat this as a training exercise. We will guard you from the bulk of the forces while you gain valuable battle experience. ¡°


    Saran panicked. ¡°You can¡¯t make me do this! My father assigned you to protect me, not throw me into battle!¡±


    Blaise shrugged. ¡°Indeed I can¡¯t force you, but I don¡¯t believe the goblins have the same compunctions.¡±


    A harsh keening sound met their ears as a lone goblin appeared from behind a tree, spotting them. It charged them, but fell immediately the moment it was in Ellen¡¯s melee range. A portion of its head fell from it¡¯s shoulders as brain matter spilled onto the ground, and Saran realized he hadn¡¯t even seen her sword move. She tossed him a long dagger, almost a short sword in it¡¯s own right.


    ¡°Wait, but I don¡¯t have any training with a blade!¡± He yelled, trying to make himself heard over the sound of keening voices from the woods behind the dead goblin.


    ¡°The pointy end goes into the enemy!¡± Ellen cried, tightening her grip on the sword she held.


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°Also, try the sharp edges! Those work too!¡±


    With that, the horde was upon them. They streamed from the trees, seemingly endless in number, and speckled among them were the orcs. The orcs held crude weapons made of bone; clubs and axes mostly. The goblins had only tough hides, and overly-large mouths filled with needle-like teeth. All were emerald green, covered in thick scales. Saran was relieved to see that though they were nude, there was no visible genitalia. Realizing his mind was drifting, he refocused, and began his spell-casting.


    The trouble was he didn¡¯t actually know any cold-related spells. Only fire, and spatial magic. Improvising he reversed several variables on a fireball spell, and created a sphere of cold. It had no physical component though, the way fire did. The moment he tried to use it, it would dissipate. Suddenly, something latched onto his leg, generating a burning pain, and he instinctively swatted at it, screaming. The ball of cold, moving with his hand, impacted with the goblin that was gnawing on him. It was the goblin¡¯s turn to scream. It¡¯s face began bubbling, and blistering. A moment later it detached from his leg, shrieking. Ellen strode over, her sword flicking, near-invisible with speed again as she decapitated the goblin.


    ¡°Why are you sitting there?¡± She yelled, as she stretched her hand out to cover his wound in a healing light. ¡°Get moving! I won¡¯t heal you again unless it¡¯s a serious wound, so pay better attention!¡± She strode off again. The entire time as she talked and healed, her other hand had been slashing her sword through goblin bodies. Saran marveled at her skill with the sword, and ability to do so many things at once. He had tried healing magic himself once, and it took an incredible amount of mental processing power.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    He stood, finding himself faced with three goblins in the fraction of a second it had taken to rise to his feet after her departure. Armed with his new spell already active in his palm, he dived toward the goblins. The middle goblin took the spell directly in the ribs, and screamed as it¡¯s bones began to explode internally, like tree trunks in the winter. He had packed more power into this spell than the last one. The other two goblins charged him, mouths opened for biting. Instinctively, Saran opened tears in the spaces on either side of him, causing the goblins to bite into each other instead of him. Once they had latched on, instinct demanded they feast, and they continued to tear into each other. After a moment, he closed the portals, their bodies still mingled halfway through. This had the unexpected side-effect of separating body parts on one side of the portal from the parts on the other. This was a possibility he had genuinely never considered. Viscera sprayed him as he refocused on the battle again.


    Inspired, he quickly made a modified version of his portal spell in the interlude between opponents. Four more goblins charged him, and he flung his new spell toward them. The first in line severed neatly down the middle as if struck by an invisible blade, proving that his spell had worked as intended. The others charged heedlessly, and he severed another before the remaining two were on him. They latched onto his legs as he struggled to summon another ball of cold, but the sudden pain disrupted his casting. The chaotic forces, released with only partial commands, blossomed into a dome of frost ten feet wide in every direction. This time, Saran could feel his own skin blistering, and he realized he was so numb, he hadn¡¯t even felt it when the goblin bodies had exploded. Shards of their bones now peppered his skin like shrapnel, and he fell to his knees as he found himself unable to care. ¡°So tired....¡± He thought, beginning to fall on his face.


    Suddenly, tendrils of shadow grabbed hold of him, and yanked him hard, out of the radius of his spell. Pain coursed through him, igniting his consciousness like the sudden flare of a candle before it overwhelmed him. He sank into an empty slumber.


    Next to him, Blaise cursed. Tendrils of solid shadow extended from Blaise¡¯s feet, whipping out at goblins and orcs all around him. Ellen sprinted up to him a moment later, setting her sword in a guard stance on the other side of Saran. She cursed when she saw his broken, pockmarked form. ¡°Not bad for his first time, but damn this kid doesn¡¯t fail small.¡± She said, sword lashing out around her as dozens of goblins charged the trio.


    ¡°Indeed, this is certainly one of the more dramatic mis-casts I¡¯ve seen.¡±


    In his surprise, Saran had accidentally poured most of his energy into the frost spell, and it continued to function. The two mercenaries used it as a wall, to which they put their backs. For their part, the goblins were oblivious to the danger; happily charging into the now-frozen field, only to explode a moment later. A tree caught in the field shattered a few seconds later, squashing a very surprised orc who had been keeping it¡¯s distance.


    Minutes passed as the stream of goblins slowed to a trickle. ¡°Guard the kid, I¡¯m gonna go for the orcs before they cut and run.¡± Ellen said, using magic to boost her speed as she ran. Up until this point, enhanced speed had been the main draw on her magical abilities, but as she charged, she channeled magic into her sword as well. It gained a sheen of frost, sparkling motes forming on the blade like patches of crystal.


    The orcs snarled at her as she got closer, and the nearest one swung it¡¯s club at her when she was in range. Something she knew about orcs that most people didn¡¯t bother to remember was that they frequently used the bones of fallen comrades as weapons. In fact, their bones were almost as durable as steel. This is why when it swung, she activated a simple barrier spell over herself, and moved her blade up to intercept the club. The bone shattered explosively when it came into contact with the cold of her blade, and large chunks pierced the orc, killing it. Her barrier stopped the shrapnel from impacting her.


    She moved on to the next, and this one was more cautious; an axe wielder, attempting to find an opening in her defense rather than swinging wantonly. Reacting to a sound from behind her, Ellen ducked a clumsy strike from a second orc, spinning her sword to slash into it. The sword slammed into its abdomen, the flesh bubbling, and blistering against the cold of her blade. As she completed her swing, the now-eviscerated orc fell backward screaming. The first orc had taken this as it¡¯s opportunity to strike, but she had factored this into her strategy from the beginning. Using the motion of her turn to twirl past it¡¯s downswing, she brought her sword up into its neck, and it died scrabbling at the bubbling flesh of it¡¯s throat.


    The final two orcs looked at each other, and fled in opposite directions. Ellen grabbed two throwing knives from her belt. With a thought, she imbued cold into the knives, and then threw one toward each target. The first landed in it¡¯s target¡¯s leg, cold shooting up it¡¯s body through flash-cooled blood like a bubbling cancer. It died with a shout of pain as the cold reached its heart. The second had glanced back at the right moment, and managed to hold it¡¯s weapon up to block the dagger. Seeing what was happening to its counterpart, and remembering how the cold had interacted with the weapon of the first orc, the orc tossed it¡¯s club aside just in time. The weapon detonated harmlessly into the ground as the orc resumed it¡¯s flight. Ellen sighed, and channeled magic into her sword. A sliver of metal rose from the frosted blade like liquid, and separated from the blade, hovering in the air. Suddenly, it snapped into the shape of a foot-long needle, and launched itself into the back of the fleeing orc. The orc screamed briefly as the needle buried itself in the creature¡¯s spine. A moment later it fell to the ground dead.


    Ellen policed the corpses, retrieving her first throwing knife, and the needle of metal. She cursed when she discovered the second dagger had been ruined by the explosion of the bone club. Quality throwing knives didn¡¯t come cheap, the main reason why she only carried a few at a time. With a mental command, she melded the shard of metal back into her sword until there was no visible seam.


    She turned to see that Saran was awake, and watching her. Blaise had begun the process of pulling bone shards from Saran¡¯s body while Saran tried to focus away from the pain. He whimpered as a foot-long spike was removed from his leg, and Ellen sighed in sympathy. She¡¯d had her fair share of battlefield medicine over the years, and knew how it felt. Smiling, she winked at him as she walked back over to the pair. He smiled back wanly, but shuddered, closing his eyes as another spike of bone was removed. Patting his head affectionately, Ellen cast a spell, and Saran drifted into a fitful sleep.

 Chapter 4

    ¡°Never ever do that to me again!¡± Saran screamed at Blaise.


    Blaise raised his eyebrows. ¡°Do what?¡±


    ¡°Put me on the frontlines like that! You¡¯re supposed to protect me!¡±


    Ellen snorted. ¡°What are you a coward?¡±


    Saran looked away, ¡°I¡­ I guess so. If it means staying out of fights like that. I don¡¯t want to go through that pain again.¡±


    Ellen nodded in approval. ¡°Good, you have good instincts then. That¡¯s exactly the right lesson to take from your first real fight.¡±


    He looked at her, flabbergasted. ¡°What would be the wrong lesson? Who would want to go through that?¡±


    She laughed bitterly. ¡°The world is full of fools. Some men enter their first fight, and come out unscathed. They learn the wrong lesson, seeing combat as a thrill. Others convince themselves to grin and bear it to prove their bravery. They ignore their instincts, and die for it. There is only one kind of old warrior though, and it¡¯s people like you and me.¡±


    Saran nodded, looking at the ground, then rallied. ¡°That¡¯s beside the point though! You¡¯re supposed to escort me, not throw me into a fight!¡±


    Blaise sighed. ¡°Incorrect. Specifically, we were hired to both escort AND train you. To that end, we took advantage of an opportunity to give you a controlled taste of combat. Had you been in any real danger, we would have saved you. In fact, that is exactly what we did. We are here to protect you young sir, not coddle you. This is a long-term contract. Teaching you to protect yourself is the best way we can protect you in the long run.¡±


    Saran looked away, a surly expression on his face. ¡°Fine, whatever. I¡¯m done arguing about it. Just don¡¯t talk to me for a while.¡± With that, he used spatial magic to distort his image as he had done at their first meeting.


    Ellen smirked at Blaise. ¡°How long do you think he¡¯ll sulk?¡±


    ¡°You know I can still hear you right?¡± Saran called back at them.


    A thin smile graced Blaise¡¯s face. ¡°I give it a few hours before his pride is overcome by his inability to see where he is going.¡±


    ¡°I can see just-¡± Saran started, before tripping over a log.


    ¡°You see the general shapes of objects, but anything that blends too well with its surroundings may as well be invisible. Especially with you angry and distracted. Now come out of there before you lose track of us in these woods.¡±


    ¡°No, I won''t. I¡¯m leaving the distortion on.¡±


    Blaise made a tsking sound at him. ¡°And here I was starting to slightly respect your performance in our lessons and the fight. Well, it looks like we are playing escort the petulant child then. Ellen?¡±


    She nodded in annoyance. Extending her hand, a bright flash of light erupted from it, and impacted Saran. With a sound like grating metal, his magical cloak evaporated.


    ¡°Hey, what the hell Ellen?¡± He said, shock on his face.


    She grabbed his shoulder firmly with one hand. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for you to pout. We¡¯re on a schedule, and we need to get moving. There might be more goblin hordes. There might be assassins stalking us. We don¡¯t know what will come if we stand still, so we need to keep moving.¡±


    Saran nodded, and looked away; avoiding her gaze.


    ¡°Fine. Whatever.¡±


    She nodded, and they continued their journey. She noticed he had developed a new habit of rubbing at a spot on his hand, one that had been covered in frostbite from the backlash of his spell. It had been completely healed by her magic, but Ellen wondered if the fight had scarred his psyche more deeply than he was letting on. Finally, she stopped him, while Blaise hung back looking on curiously.


    ¡°Look, do you need to talk about what happened? The first fight can be difficult, and I hope you¡¯ll be educated, not crippled by it.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± He averted his eyes. ¡°I failed. I lost control of my magic, and it nearly killed me.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°That happens sometimes in combat. It¡¯s why some mages use catalysts to channel their magic. The staff or wand holds the framework of their spell, so when they run magic through it, it¡¯ll run exactly they way they want it to.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s not just that. I wasn¡¯t good enough. I nearly got myself killed. I might¡¯ve gotten you killed as well.¡±


    Ellen laughed, a deep-throated belly laugh that ended with a short bout of snorting. ¡°Sorry kid, it¡¯s just that it¡¯s been a while since anyone worried for my safety. Besides, it¡¯s my job to worry about you, not the other way around. The truth is, you did better than most people on their first fight. It¡¯s true you fucked up, but everyone does. You just did it with style.¡± She smirked at him, and he smiled shyly back at her.


    She tousled his hair. ¡°Now come on kid, let¡¯s get moving before the goblins get warm. Plenty of chances to do better between here and York I¡¯m sure.¡±


    He nodded, and the trio began walking once again.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­..


    That night, they stayed at a tavern in a small town they encountered along the road. Ellen couldn¡¯t be bothered to remember the name of the town, but the tavern was one of the better she had experienced. The trio all shared a single room for the sake of security, and traveled under the guise of a married couple with their teenage son. The tavern-keeper had given them a sideways glance; likely because Ellen didn¡¯t look quite old enough to have Saran, but he said nothing.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Ellen sighed as she sank into the bed. In her line of work, a real bed was a rare luxury, especially after over a week on the road. She was determined to enjoy it while she could.


    ¡°Do you plan to take the bed entirely for yourself?¡± Blaise asked, speaking up from a corner of the room, where he had been sitting in a chair reading. Saran was absent, having gone to use the latrine.


    ¡°Why, were you planning to join me?¡± Ellen laughed.


    Blaise smiled at her, a rare expression gracing his face. ¡°Not in the way you mean.¡±


    She winked at him flirtatiously. ¡°But it¡¯s so lonely. I need a big strong man to protect me.¡± She bit her lip to drive the point home.


    Blaise rolled his eyes. ¡°You know I don¡¯t¡­ roll that way.¡±


    Ellen¡¯s face broke out in a smile now as well. ¡°Maybe, but it¡¯s still fun teasing you.¡±


    Blaise snorted, and returned to scanning his book. Ellen grinned even wider. ¡°You know, I really should get you a colorful scarf or something. All those swooning women out there could use a little warning.¡±


    Blaise looked up from his book. ¡°I prefer they don¡¯t see me coming.¡±


    Ellen started snickering, and a tendril of shadow extended outward to smack her lightly in the forehead. She winked at him unrepentant, and he sighed, returning to his book again. She settled back into the bed, staring up contentedly at the ceiling, when Blaise lowered his book again.


    ¡°I really must ask how you manage to go from being a consummate professional to a giddy schoolgirl in the span of a few seconds. After the things I have seen in this line of work, it is very difficult for me to be anything other than what I am now.¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m a woman. I come equipped with three or four personalities by default. I use the garbage to fuel the fierce persona. Besides, trying to keep the tough warrior woman aspect up around the kid all the time is tough. That face has too much baggage, and I¡¯ve gotta let loose once in a while.¡± Ellen looked away, the moment of peace shattered by memories.


    Blaise nodded silently. It was an explanation he could understand. He spoke again after a moment. ¡°Well, we are in a tavern. If you need to let loose, why not go downstairs, and join the drunken masses? Perhaps find a nice¡­ I want to say tavern wench, but for the life of me I can¡¯t think of the word for the male equivalent.¡±


    She smiled broadly. ¡°That¡¯s because the male equivalent isn¡¯t ¡®nice.¡¯ At least not until I get through with them.¡±


    Blaise choked, turning slightly red, his gaze now locked on his book.


    ¡°Oh please, if they swang your way, you¡¯d have them wrapped around your little finger by nightfall.¡±


    He seemed to consider this for a moment, then grinned mischievously, her mood apparently infectious. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be my little finger they were wrapped around.¡±


    She hooted and clapped several times in applause, laughing. He bowed as best he could from his seated position before speaking again. ¡°Really though, if you feel the need, you should go enjoy yourself. I will be able to protect Saran for a while by myself, and this really is a fascinating book.¡± She nodded, but they were interrupted by the door banging open loudly.


    ¡°Someone just tried to kill me!¡± Saran cried as he stumbled into the room. His face was pale, but he appeared otherwise unharmed.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Ellen asked, leaping out of bed. All traces of levity were gone from her face, and Blaise idly wondered how long it would be before that side of her reemerged again.


    ¡°I was finishing up at the latrine, when these guys snuck up on me. One of them said the Duchess sent her regards, in a really dramatic voice, then they attacked me. They all charged me, and I used spatial magic to drop them in the latrine. Then I ran up here.¡±


    Ellen spluttered in horror. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s worse, the thought of them being dropped in the latrines, or her hiring such rank amateurs. Kid, learn from their mistake. If you ever have to kill someone, just do it. Don¡¯t try to drop witty one-liners beforehand. It tends to get you killed. Or dropped in a latrine.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Still doesn¡¯t change the fact that people tried to kill me does it?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°No, you¡¯re right. We should probably go slit their throats for good measure on our way out the door.¡± She looked at Blaise. ¡°Care to do the honor? I¡¯d rather not get shit on my sword if I can help it.¡±


    He nodded reluctantly, and they quickly evacuated the room with all of their belongings. By the time they reached the latrines, the final man was being pulled from the latrine by his fellows. Blaise sighed as the shadows began wriggling around him. ¡°Amateurs.¡±


    Screams pounded the air for just a moment as spears of darkness penetrated their victims directly in their hearts, followed by the thudding sound of bodies hitting the ground. A gibbering voice could be heard a moment later, hysterical tones echoing in the sudden void. Tentacles of darkness pressed down on the final man left alive, as he whimpered. Blaise walked over to him, staring down at the sodden man in distaste. ¡°And who might you be?¡±


    ¡°J-Jerome sir.¡±


    ¡°And what were you doing here Jerome?¡±


    ¡°We¡­ We were hired to do a hit on that kid over there.¡±


    ¡°Hired by who?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    A spiked tentacle pierced the man¡¯s hand all the way through, and he cried out in pain. ¡°Do not lie to me. From what I hear, you said it was the Duchess.¡±


    Jerome nodded, panting from the pain. ¡°That¡¯s what the guy who hired us said. Said he worked for the Duchess, and the kid would know what that meant.¡±


    Blaise nodded, satisfied. ¡°Did he say anything else?¡±


    Jerome shook his head. ¡°Just told us about the money and where to find you.¡±


    Blaise nodded. ¡°Then you have earned a merciful death.¡± With that, Blaise droke the spike of shadow directly through the man¡¯s skull, right between the eyes. Jerome barely had time to widen his eyes in surprise before he was dead.


    Saran gasped in shock. ¡°Why kill him? He was completely helpless!¡±


    Blaise shrugged. ¡°He was a threat. He knew where we were, and might have given other information to his employer.¡±


    Saran shook his head. ¡°But it¡¯s wrong to kill unarmed people.¡±


    Blaise shrugged again. ¡°We are not heroes, we are killers. More importantly, we are your father¡¯s killers. We do whatever is necessary for the completion of our contract.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°What we were hired to do.¡± Ellen said firmly.


    Blaise nodded. ¡°Moral qualms aside,¡± he said, ¡°I believe we are up against a plague-walker.¡±


    Saran tried to shift gears, still subdued by guilt. ¡°Plague-walker? Is that a branch of magic?¡±


    Blaise shook his head. ¡°More of an informal mercenary slang term. It means someone who is hired to stalk and kill their prey. Rather than doing this directly like an assassin though, they arrange for others to perform assassinations, or they arrange accidents. The idea being that where one attempt might fail, hiring someone who can try over and over means eventually something will succeed. Thus they are like a plague upon their victim, dogging their every step.¡±


    Saran shuddered. ¡°So what do we do?¡±


    ¡°We stay mobile. Plague-walkers are generally incredibly hard to locate, but they need time to prepare their machinations. If we avoid being in one place for too long we can likely avoid any well-planned strikes altogether until we reach York. Think of this as more of a probing attack. He hired some local muscle to determine what our strengths and weaknesses are.¡±


    As Saran mulled this over, Blaise set about the task of disposing of the bodies. Using his shadowy tentacles to avoid getting any detritus on himself, he rolled the bodies into the latrine with a series of quiet pop sounds.The corpses sank under the surface of the goop, disappearing perfectly in the sludgy mass. Blaise was confident that no one would ever find them. Mess fully cleaned, the trio slipped into the night.

 Chapter 5

    A week passed with no further attacks, and Saran began to feel more secure. He continued his magical training with Blaise, while Ellen tutored him in various forms of hand to hand combat. It was far from as simple as the stories made it sound; where a character might spend a few weeks, and suddenly be a master warrior, but he felt that he was getting the hang of the basic forms she drilled him in.


    They had reached the city of Vega now, and were using the opportunity to stock up on supplies. Ellen was in the process of bartering with a blacksmith to replace her lost throwing knife, and Saran was fighting back a yawn.


    ¡°I want this one, but with the balance so off, I can only pay you half.¡±


    ¡°Bullcrap.¡± The blacksmith snorted through a thick handlebar mustache. ¡°If the balance was really that off, you wouldn¡¯t be buying it. You pay full price or nothing at all.¡±


    ¡°But-¡± The blacksmith cut her off, pointing to a sign that read ¡°No Haggling.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Ellen grumbled, handing over the requisite coins.


    The smith¡¯s demeanor instantly shifted from stern to jovial. ¡°Lovely. Anything else I can do for you ma¡¯am? Perhaps your son needs something?¡±


    Ellen bristled. ¡°No. That¡¯s all. Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Have a pleasant day ma¡¯am.¡±


    Ellen¡¯s shoulders were tense as she stalked off, and Saran fell in behind her. ¡°Um, why do you look so angry?¡±


    ¡°He called me ma¡¯am just to be a dick.¡±


    ¡°I mean you were criticizing his work.¡±


    Ellen glanced at him from the corner of her eye. ¡°If you think criticizing women is a good idea, I may have to intensify your sword training. You¡¯re gonna need it.¡±


    Saran blushed, and looked away while Ellen snickered at him. ¡°Come on,¡± she said a moment later. ¡°Blaise is waiting at the inn, let¡¯s get some exercise shall we?¡± With that, she accelerated into a heavy jog. Saran groaned, and matched her speed. Despite her being several inches shorter than Saran, she wasn¡¯t even winded as they wound their way through the stalls. For his part, Saran was gasping; accustomed to the slow march of the road, but not the near sprint he was moving at now.


    Suddenly, from behind an alley, a foot stuck into his path, sending him tumbling into the pavement with a painful smack. Coming to stop after a painful roll, he looked up as Ellen stood in front of him, sword drawn towards the alley. A moment later a gang of six young men strode out confidently, holding drawn swords.


    ¡°Nothing personal, someone offered a lot of money.¡± The leader said.


    Ellen snorted. ¡°I bet your mom tells the same story about how you were born.¡±


    The man snarled, and his followers spread out to encircle the pair. ¡°We¡¯ll see how big your mouth is with my dick in it!¡±


    She looked at his crotch thoughtfully, hand dramatically on her chin. ¡°I¡¯m confused, are you telling me to close my mouth? I mean I¡¯m pretty sure I could whistle, and it would still fit.¡±


    The circle of men ignored Saran completely at this point, focusing their attention on Ellen.


    ¡°Well, I guess if it¡¯s all six of you, I might have to open my mouth partway.¡±


    Suddenly, Ellen was twirling into action, two of the thugs sprouting throwing knives from their throats. The remaining four sprinted toward her, but instead of allowing them to box her in, she singled one out. Charging him, she cut off the hand which had been swinging a sword at her, slamming her blade into his heart a moment later. Withdrawing her sword from the corpse, she turned to face the three remaining men. The leader was among the three still standing and he snarled at her blindly, even as his compatriots began backing off. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Come on dickless. Prove what a big strong man you are.¡± Ellen said, waving him on lazily.


    He charged with a roar, swinging his sword from right to left. Flowing to the left parallel to the motion of his sword, Ellen moved past him, and hamstrung him with two quick strikes to the back of his calves. She continued walking as he tumbled, losing his footing in the middle of a dead sprint. His companions surrendered before she could reach them, and she shook her head at them. ¡°Smart move guys.¡±  She took their weapons from them without resistance before hamstringing them like she had their leader.


    Saran noticed a crowd of bystanders for the first time when someone whooped at her treatment of the prisoners. A canny merchant began hawking popcorn from a hastily assembled popcorn-maker, and already had a small line.


    ¡°Alright Dickless, time to talk. What do you know about the person who hired you?¡±


    ¡°My name is Grayson bitch!¡±


    She tutted and picked up a throwing knife from one of the corpses, twirling it in her hands. ¡°No, I think it¡¯s Dickless. Unless you start telling me what I need to know, that is.¡±


    Someone in the crowd hooted, and Saran noticed there were town guards in the popcorn line. Several more were quietly handcuffing the other thugs, and dragging them away by their legs. The screams of the prisoners notwithstanding, it seemed as if they were trying not to draw attention to themselves.


    Dickless spat on the ground. ¡°Fine, whatever. The guy was short, white skin, I couldn¡¯t really see him other than that ¡®cause he had a big cloak on.¡±


    ¡°So some random guy in a cloak offers you a bunch of money to kill someone, and you think it¡¯s a great idea?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Most people aren¡¯t fucking ninja warriors or whatever.¡±


    She shook her head, and rolled her eyes. ¡°Did he give you an upfront fee?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I¡¯m not stupid.¡±


    ¡°Coulda fooled me.¡± She said, as she dug through his pockets, and relieved him of a large pouch. Looking inside, she whistled. ¡°I¡¯m surprised they parted with this much for a suicide mission. The Duchess must be paying through the nose for this. Anything else you want to add before the guards haul you off?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± The man said sullenly.


    ¡°Then I dub thee sir Dickless. Have a nice life.¡± With that, her thick boot slammed into his groin. To the chorus of his screams, she turned, and walked away, pulling Saran to his feet from where he had been sitting cross-legged.


    ¡°I¡¯d say that went well.¡± Ellen told Saran as they walked back to the inn.


    ¡°For you maybe.¡± Saran muttered.


    ¡°Hey now, we restocked our traveling funds, and got more details on the plague-walker. Besides, you¡¯re alive. Every battle where you walk away at the end is a victory, got it?¡±


    Saran nodded, rubbing his shredded elbow.


    Ellen rolled her eyes. ¡°Alright, give it here.¡± She said, motioning at his elbow. Saran did, and she healed it with a touch. ¡°Now, no more complaining got it? We¡¯re alive, and the sun is shining.¡±


    Saran nodded, and Ellen looked away. As she did, the sun caught her blond hair, speckled with blood, and gave the effect of a bloody halo. Realizing he was staring, Saran looked away quickly. The rest of the trip progressed in silence.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­


    Back at the inn, Ellen explained the situation to Blaise.


    ¡°Perhaps we should avoid towns altogether? Live off the land?¡± Blaise suggested.


    Ellen shrugged. ¡°It¡¯ll just give them different opportunities to mess with us. For all we know, the goblin horde was their doing.¡±


    Blaise nodded. ¡°That is something I had considered.¡±


    Ellen nodded grimly. ¡°We¡¯re probably better off sticking to the plan. Follow the road eastward, and then wind our way up the coast one we reach it.¡±


    ¡°Wait we¡¯re not going to try to throw them off the trail or something?¡± Saran spoke up from the corner where he was packing his bag.


    ¡°We¡¯ve already been trying, you just haven¡¯t noticed. At this point if they¡¯re still on our trail, then they have some magical means of tracking us.¡±


    ¡°Could they have someone¡¯s blood? They could use that to track us.¡±


    Blaise looked troubled. ¡°Possibly. It¡¯s unlikely to be one of us. The only way they could acquire ours is if they got their hands on one of our contracts. Since the mercenaries guild keeps contracts in a dimensional vault, under heavy guard, I don¡¯t see how they could have acquired one.  Perhaps they have some of yours?¡±


    Saran shook his head. ¡°Dad burns any blood I shed personally. Says he doesn¡¯t trust anyone else with it.¡±


    Blaise nodded. ¡°Then they have some other method of tracking us. Don¡¯t worry. We will keep you safe.¡±


    Saran smiled. ¡°I trust you, I just don¡¯t like feeling helpless.¡±


    Ellen reached out, and ruffled his hair, grinning. ¡°No one does, but we all have to put up with it sometimes. Welcome to adulthood kid.¡±


    Saran¡¯s only response was to turn, and stick his tongue out at her.


    Ellen stood. ¡°Everyone packed? Let¡¯s get going.¡±