by Tao Wong
I sat on the couch, staring onto the busy city street while pondering exactly where I drew the line in my new life. Where do I, Henry Tsien, mage, decide it was okay to take a life.
***
Hours later, I looked up as dinner was set in front of me. This time around, it was Alexa’s turn to cook, which resulted in tasty but simple tomato, ground-meat pasta. As the still-steaming dish sat in front of me, taunting my empty belly, Alexa took a seat before me and spoke.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I think. I guess, I just never really thought about what it meant,” I said softly. “Getting jumped and attacked by orcs or werejackals was one thing. I could justify doing whatever I needed to do to guard myself. And if it was scary, well, what hasn’t been? But breaking and entering… killing people. The morality of it is a lot greyer when it’s real life.”
Alexa cocked her head to the side for a time before she nodded slowly. “It’s one thing I admire and pity about you, Henry. Your innocence, your optimism and belief in people. While we were taught that everyone is loved by God, we were also trained to kill, to see supernaturals as less than human. Even other humans, those who dabbled in magic and the supernatural world, were considered tainted, unworthy.
“It was simple, theoretically. I was a faith healer. It wasn’t as if I was supposed to fight them directly. While we all received the training, for me, it was less real. Then I was sent to you, and we’ve interacted with—done quests—for the supernatural. Talked to them. Done wards for their newborns and light shows for their graduation parties. They stopped all being monsters, but…”
“But?”
“But the bad ones are still bad. The Templars are here to stop those who are bad, who are wrong. Whether it’s dealing drugs or killing people, if they’re human or supernatural. If they’re doing evil, my job—our job is to stop them,” Alexa said.
“But I’m not a Templar.”
“No. You’re not.”
I rubbed my face again, picking up my fork to twirl the pasta around as a distraction. After a time, I shook my head and dropped it. “I don’t think I can choose to do that, Alexa. I know what they’re doing is wrong. I know it. But killing them when they’re not trying to kill me, I can’t do it.”
“Then let’s plan to capture them,” Alexa said simply. “If we have time, I can have the Knights take them in.”
“Kill them,” I stated with some horror in my voice.
“Not necessarily,” Alexa said. “I’m sure they’d have information we could use.”
“Like?”
“Their supplier. Who they work for. Their goals,” Alexa rattled off.
“Oh…” I could push her, ask what happened when all that information was given, when they had learned everything they wanted. But really, I knew that answer too. And somehow, I had to admit, I was willing to let it happen. Perhaps it was hypocritical of me, to condemn men to death but not want the blood itself on my hand. But if so, it was a level of hypocrisy I could live with. And sleep with.
“Capture.” I prodded the pasta again and then firmly nodded. “If we’re going to do that, I better get planning.”
Alexa smiled at my words, nodding slightly and sitting backward. Off to the side, I caught Lily frowning slightly as she tapped away at her computer, but she said nothing, at least not yet.
It was only later that night when Alexa had retired for the evening and I had come back downstairs, my mind still whirling with minor alterations to the plan when the jinn spoke.
“Are you really okay with this?” Lily asked as I pushed the little robed mage and paladin miniatures around the board.
“What? The plan. Of course, I made it.”
“Doing the Templars’ bidding,” Lily said, tapping her keyboard to pause her game and turn directly toward me. “It’s not really your quest. You don’t have any personal penalties for failing.”
“Except I might lose Alexa.”
“Except that,” Lily said, conceding my point. “But while she might be friendly now, do remember that her job is to keep an eye on you and to keep you alive till you hit level one hundred, and the ring can come off.”
“At which point everyone and their boss is going to come after me,” I said flatly. “I remember. And that’s why… That’s why I need to do this.”
Lily hummed slightly, prompting me to go on, and I sighed.
“I’m not a killer, Lily. I mean, sure. I’ve killed imps. And the demon. And Devil Rats and evil ravens. And those weird llama creatures,” I said, ticking off the violence I’d conducted in my time. “But I’m not a killer. Not like her Templars. Or the orcs. Or the werejackals. I wasn’t brought up to kill.”
“So, you’re going to make it clear to them you won’t kill?” Lily asked, slightly incredulously. “How’s that going to help you survive?”
“Because if I’m going to survive, I’m going to need to push myself, and killing them is easy. Simple. But my life isn’t going to be simple, and this isn’t going to be easy,” I said slowly, reaching inside to explain a thought process I had barely grasped. “If—when I hit level one hundred, when the ring comes off, I’m going to have to fight them all. If I can learn to handle myself now with gloves on, maybe I’ll be able to handle them all when the gloves come off.”
Lily smiled sadly at me at my words but said nothing further. I knew—as she probably did—I had a naïve hope. But surviving when I hit level one hundred was a naïve hope. I already had two major groups gunning for me, and obviously more to come. But hope, naïve and hopeless as it may be, was all I had.
***
The drive to the drug house the next morning was quiet, tense. I found myself patting my coat repeatedly, a nervous motion as I tried to assess what the hell I was missing. It was stupid, since I had literally created a long list of everything I would need and ticked them off earlier this morning. Then I wiped down and burned anything that might be incriminating.
“Stop it. Nothing has changed since the last minute,” Alexa said grumpily.
“Sorry.” I put my hands down. “Right. In five minutes, I’ll throw the glamour and illusion on us to hide who we are. I’ll do the same with the car too, so they can’t track the vehicle. Then—”
“Henry. We’ve gone over this a hundred times. We’ll be fine,” Alexa said, making me slowly fall silent. I knew she was right, but I felt the urge to snap at her, a feeling I pushed down with a surge of willpower that I was quite proud of. Truth be told, I knew I was being irrational.
“Right. Right.” I fell silent, and a few moments later, I started going over the list of items I had brought with me.
“Five minutes,” Alexa said, interrupting me as I mentally went over what I had brought for the umpteenth time.
I drew a deep breath and exhaled while channeling an illusion over the car. It wasn’t a complex illusion, just minor changes like shifting the color of the car itself and the license plate along with removing any dents, scratches, and other, potentially identifiable material. After I sent a surge of mana into the car and completed the spell, I turned toward Alexa and nodded. Together, we tapped the small wooden enchantment I had created last night to store a simple glamour and illusion. In both cases, I went for boring and generic, making Alexa look older, brunette, and less striking while I made myself Caucasian, brunette, and older too.
As the car drew closer to the house, I took a moment to connect to the mirrors one last time to check that the three within were at their usual spots. Thankfully, they were, allowing us to carry on our nefarious task immediately.
Step one: Park the car and approach the house directly and cleanly, without acting suspicious and shifty. I made sure to grab my backpack and slung it over one shoulder, while Alexa carried her broken-down spear in a simple sports bag. When we approached the house, I moved to block Alexa from the view of any neighbors while casting a simple illusion spell over the house’s video surveillance camera. A moment later,
Alexa had the door open with her lockpicks.
I actually felt bad about my boast. Once I actually thought about the requirements to pick a lock magically, I realized I had neither the spells, the knowledge, nor the time to perfect an enchantable tool. Online videos showing how to move pins and tumblers were one thing, but having a force spell that could not only adjust the degree, angle, and speed of force applied to tiny little metal pieces was beyond me. Alexa had had a good laugh late last night when I started grumbling about the matter before she informed me about her skillset.
Step two was simple. Once inside, a quick scry verified our targets were still in the same location. While I did that, Alexa put together her spear, getting ready for the violence about to occur. At the same time, I ran through the spell formulas I’d created just for this moment before releasing the Scry spell. If all went well, no one was going to die.
Step three required actual action. I snuck up first, doing my best Sneaky Pete impression. Of course, I wasn’t exactly trained to sneak, but I’d been a kid. Recalling the rules we’d used while playing ninja at home, I made sure not to walk in the middle of the staircase while crouching low as we ascended. When I reached the second floor, I poked my head around the corner of the staircase to see the three sprawled in the open living room, still staring at the TV.
Once again, I started a spell formula in my mind. This time I was prepping a Force Bolt, but instead of a single spherical container, I was going for a longer, cylindrical container, one that was slightly flexible. I called it my Force Rope, and in theory, the replication of the spell three times would let me wrap the three humans up without a problem.
The first two spells formed in my mind, then I began the third. Since these were all the same spell, it was difficult but not impossible, unlike triple casting three different spells. Here, at least, I just needed to concentrate on keeping the threads of mana and the spell formulas in mind.
Loud, incessant blaring of the horn from outside broke my concentration, forcing the third spell to come apart. I almost lost the other two as well, the feedback from the broken spell making me clench my teeth and let out a huff. Luckily, the noise I made was hidden by the continual honking.
“Shit. Is it delivery day?” a voice growled from above. Chairs creaked as our targets stood. I shared a wide-eyed, shocked look with Alexa as our plans came apart in moments. For a second, we both stood there in shock, footsteps coming closer before Alexa acted and rushed upward, jostling me aside gently and forcing me to struggle to hold the spells again.
“Wha—Urkk,” the voice screamed, the squark and gurgled ending an auditory clue of what happened. I had no more time, no gap to consider our bad luck. It was time to act.
I strode upward, looking for and finding my targets. One was reaching for a shotgun down by his chair, the second was attempting to ward off Alexa’s spear with his free hand while he vainly grasped for a handgun in his pants, and the other lay on the ground, his throat slashed. I dismissed the second, focusing on the first as I adjusted the range coordinates of my spell.
“Force Chain!” I called, releasing the spell with an auditory component. I held back the second spell, already weaving the spell formula to adjust the range to something a lot closer. Not that it was necessary. Alexa had cut the man’s hand open, then swept in and kicked his bladder region, right on top of the gun which the gangster was vainly attempting to draw.
My Force Chain flew outward, wrapping the first gangster’s arms and body around the lounge chair he had been sitting upon. He screamed as the chain yanked tight, plush and wooden components of the chair creaking as my hastily reconstructed spell formulas restricted his motion a little too much. He shouted in pain and surprise, a noise that set my teeth on edge. A Force Ball, located right in his mouth, worked as a useful if somewhat transparent ball gag.
As I turned toward Alexa and her opponents, I noticed she had thrust the spear into the second man’s neck, this time nicking open veins and arteries. Gripping his throat, the man gurgled as his blood flowed out, unable to make much more noise than Alexa’s first victim.
“Secure him!” Alexa snapped at me as I stared at the growing pool of blood. I twisted around and saw my own target had tipped his chair to the side and fallen to the ground, still bound tight as he futilely struggled toward his shotgun.
I rushed toward him and kicked the weapon away before I secured the man’s feet together using a series of zip ties. I frowned, realizing I could either release him and then attempt to forcefully yank his arms together to secure them again or I could leave him as he was, tied to the chair by magic. I knew it wasn’t the most secure method either. The chair was too large and plush, too pliant for there to be a truly secure binding. With a grimace, I made note to look into a sleeping spell before I recast a second Force Rope, sliding this one over both his shoulders and between his legs like a weird five-point harness.
“Come on!” Alexa snarled from downstairs. I refocused, listening to the garage doors sliding open downstairs, and hurried to the first floor, my feet making squelching sounds in the blood when I rushed past. My stomach roiled for a second, reminding me there were now two men who were dying, who I was leaving behind, but—
“I’ll close the garage doors first. Have a Force Ball ready. I’ll take the first person to come out. You deal with the second!” Alexa ordered me as she crouched beside the door to the garage, the garage remote still held tight in her hand. Almost immediately after it stopped grinding, she tapped the button, forcing it closed again. “Get ready.”
I nodded, focusing within as I readied a Force Spear, rounding the tip to ensure it didn’t kill the individual immediately. A part of me wondered if I should cast Scry to check out how many people we would be expecting, but we had only seconds left and no mirror in easy access. I discarded the idea and forced myself to draw a deep breath once again, the thrum of a readied spell riding in my mind.
“Mario!” a surprisingly high-pitched voice called from inside the garage. A moment later, the doorknob shook and the door swung open, revealing a surprised-looking human. Except, on second look, I noticed the creature had no philtrum beneath its nose, and its skin glowed slightly with a faint golden radiance. Before I could take in the creature, Alexa swung her spear at it. Only, a reflexive block with the sports bag he held in hand saved the creature from being skewered.
“Who are you!” The creature snarled, falling backward as he blocked Alexa’s attacks with his bag. That golden radiance seemed to concentrate around its forehead, growing in intensity. With a snarl, I raised my hand and released the Force Spear before whatever spell, curse, or other ability was engaged.
Diwata (Level 38)
HP 138/138
The diwata jerked its head sideways in a vain attempt to dodge the Force Bolt at the last second. The Force Bolt clipped the side of its head, making the monster stumble backward, at which point Alexa’s thrust tore into its shoulder. The initiate pushed forward as she attempted to keep the creature off balance, the pair entering the garage where she was shoulder-checked by a larger humanoid.
Immediately, I scrambled to the door to see Alexa pinned against wooden shelves of the garage and being punched repeatedly by a linebacker-sized orc, his polyurethane sports jacket sporting the logo of a familiar football team. But I had little time to watch, for the diwata had turned its attention toward me, the glow returning to its forehead.
“Shield!” I snarled, my hand rising and fingers splaying, and my shield took the blast of magical energy straight on. I staggered as the creature pressed its advantage and continually pummeled my spell’s screen with its own magic. Over the brilliance of the attack, I squinted in a desperate attempt to see what was happening within.
Unable to see past my now-opaque shield, I raised my other hand and began to cast a Force Bolt, using the simpler version of my spell to allow me to multiply the number of Force Bolts in it. I then launched them blindly through the garage door, hoping Alexa
was still in her corner. For a moment, the pressure on my Shield relented but then returned twofold. Cracks appeared all across it as my concentration wavered, my mana draining rapidly.
“Damn it!” I growled and held both hands up, flooding mana through them to reinforce the Shield. It held again, but a short, strangled scream from within let me know my friend needed my help. Fast. I swallowed, warm iron-tasting liquid sliding down my throat from a bit tongue as I forced myself to focus.
I couldn’t see within to cast a spell. I couldn’t even divert mana to do so. There was no guarantee my Shield and mana would last longer than the diwata within, but I had to act. I had to push in.
Push.
Oh. I kicked myself mentally and focused on the spell formula, searching quickly within my mind for the appropriate section. It was strange, how the channeled spell seemed to have a physical presence within my mind, like a glowing text twisted and wrapped together that mana flowed through. A channel I only needed to locate and adjust. In this case, the positioning portion of the spell.
I tied off other parts of the spell, fixing the sections dictating the shield’s size and orientation. Using my body as the initial point for the coordinates, I pushed my now-tied-off shield forward, changing its location quickly. I basically turned the entire Force Shield into a moving projectile, one I constantly fed with mana. A loud intake of breath and a sudden pressure informed me my actions had been noticed, but too late. The impact of the Shield on the diwata’s body rocked me mentally, but thankfully, the creature’s attack cut off soon after impact.
I didn’t relent even then. Drawing on my mana further, I shoved the Shield forward, pinning the creature onto the hood of the parked vehicle in the garage. I felt the sudden loss of pressure on the top, even as my Shield refused to move farther as its legs were crushed and trapped. The diwata let out a strangled scream even as the spell slowly dissipated. I had no time for the monster as I rushed into the garage from the house and spotted Alexa.