The Mage's Son

by T Ariyanna

  Arion bit his lip and eyed the pair of goggles on the man's head. They were long, with thick glass lenses. The silver studs gleamed against the dark leather, tempting him.

  “Jackpot! Grab those. We need something to cover your eyes.”

  “My eyes? Why?”

  “Because Mage pupils look like metal. Yours just look normal. You want to not get caught? Then we need those goggles.”

  “I can't just steal them,” he hissed, but he couldn't take his eyes off of them.

  “Come on, I can see how bad you want them. Just grab them, and we'll be on our way. He'll never know.”

  Arion nudged the man's leg with his foot. “What if there's something wrong with him? We should get help. We should…”

  “He's probably just taking a nap. Now hurry, before he wakes up!”

  “It doesn't seem like a very nice thing to do,” Arion mused, squatting in front of the strange man. His mouth fell open with a loud snore that startled Arion.

  “I never said it was nice, now did I? But we need them more than he does. He looks weird enough to fit in at Centric, if not more so. But we'll stick out like a sore thumb. Just suck it up and do it already!”

  Carefully, Arion plucked the goggles from the spikes of hair, and ran his finger over the leather. It was coarse against his hands. There were bits of metal jutting out from the sides, and he played with them. As the lenses flipped down, they pulled out more pieces of glass. He examined them closely.

  The man's leg jerked against his own, and he jumped back. He stared at the man with wide eyes, but he remained snoring. Arion had raised his left hand automatically, and dropped it slowly, feeling ashamed.

  “Alright, good job! Now let's keep moving. I wanna be long gone before he wakes up.”

  Arion nodded and turned away. A glint caught in the corner of his eye, and he glanced back. Spilling out of the man's bag was a small mask. He swept it up quickly and studied it. It was oddly shaped, like the corner of a box. A nozzle full of holes protruded from the front, and the top jutted outward, to fit over the nose.

  He mentally looked to Cy, but the demon shrugged his shoulders. Arion bit the inside of his cheek, warring with himself. Without allowing himself to think too much into it, he pulled the goggles around his forehead, and tied the mask loosely around his neck, so it came to rest on his chest.

  They continued on their march to Centric without so much as a glance back at the man.

  Arion stared up at the archway before him. People passed him on their way inside, staring at him as they went.

  Most of Centric was what he was used to. There were small buildings made of wood and stone, but they were covered in metal, like plates of armor. The roads were stained black, and smooth. Automatic carriages zoomed along the black streets, narrowly avoiding collision with the pedestrians.

  “This I not what I expected,” he whispered.

  “This is just the poorest section. The Mage's live better than this, don't worry.”

  “Not what I meant, but I noticed that. This is so different from the village; I don't know what to think.”

  People of all colors shoved past him, each with their own little quirks to their dress. Many carried canes with bright jewels in the handles, often in the shape of animals. There were some he couldn't identify. There were hats of all shapes among the crowd, though the most popular were top hats. Most men wore long coats like his own, and there wasn't a single woman without a tight corset. Though most women had billowing skirts that bounced as they walked, there were almost as many that wore fitted pants. There was more metal to be seen in every outfit than there was cloth.

  Giant metal towers filled the sky in front of him. The skyscrapers, made completely of metal, reached towards the heavens. Some even disappeared into the clouds. They must have a lot of stairs.

  “You wanna move before we attract any more attention?” Cy hissed in his head.

  Arion shook himself free of his awe, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. “It's just so big! And there aren't even any guards,” he whispered as he passed into the outer rim of Centric. A rush went over him as he crossed the threshold, and he clutched his chest with the surge of magic that echoed through Centric.

  “It's because non-magical things, even humans, are smart enough not to come into here. It's to keep us in, not them out. Hey…you okay, kid?”

  “I…I'm fine, I just feel…different here. I don't know.” Arion had paused just inside the gates, and his stillness was drawing attention. As he stared in wonder with everything around him, and the Mages watched him with suspicion.

  “Hey there, little guy. You lost?” a booming voice asked. There was a very large man behind him, larger even than his father had been. He had eyes like ice, and pupils that gleamed like silver, set in his dark face. He wore loose pants, its many pockets bulging in every direction with gears. Long gloves reached to his shoulders, and his bare chest held only two straps across it, holding a wide array of tools.

  Arion jumped, hand flying to his eyes. His goggles were already in place to hide them, and he awkwardly pretended to adjust them. He nodded vigorously, forcing a sheepish smile on his face.

  “Where's your parents, son? You get separated from them?” the man asked.

  “Oh, uh, no. I'm okay,” Arion stuttered. He smiled reassuringly, but the man only raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Make something up, quick! Tell him anything, just say something!”

  “I…I live with my parents, near the edge of the Loren Woods. They always thought it was too dangerous for me to leave, but I just turned fifteen. Got to let me out of the nest eventually, right? Heh, heh.” Arion bit his lip, his fingers twitching.

  The man erupted into a chorus of laughter that seemed to shake the air around them. He grasped Arion's shoulder and squeezed lightly. Arion flinched away, his whole face clenching up, and the man noticed, removing his hand. Arion shook the terror off, and plastered another smile on his face.

  “I remember my first time in the city,” the man drawled. “That rush of magic from the Towers. Exhilarating, isn't it?” His eyes scanned Arion's face, and the boy changed his expression to match the man's. “What are you here for today, son?”

  Arion dug in his coat pockets for his list, and presented it to the man with shaking hands. His large hands plucked the paper from Arion's, and he read it over carefully. “This is a pretty big list for your first trip, huh?”

  “My parents don't like to leave the house much. One big trip every couple months.” Arion shrugged, and looked down at the ground.

  “Well, most of this is pretty basic. There's a big square at every compass point here in the outer ring. Vendors of all kinds will gather. They ought to have what you need. Just head straight down this street till you get there. Then you won't have any problems finding your way back.”

  Arion nodded slowly, glancing down the street. “T…thank you,” he mumbled turning back to the man.

  The man put his hands on his hips and jerked his head down once, a warm smile spreading across his face. Arion waved awkwardly, then turned and ran down the street.

  “That was close. You nearly blew it, kid. Get it together!”

  “Hey, son!” the man called after him. Arion froze and spun around slowly. “If you happen to see Jemmina, tell her Holten sent you!”

  A smile split his face before he could realize, and Arion waved his hand over his head in a wide arc. The man waved back, and Arion took off for the square. He ran around the waves of people leaving, and came to a halt at the edge of an opening at least twice the size of his village. It was packed with people at the edges and in the center, and the noise filled his ears. He could barely hear Cy droning on in his head.

  “Alright, kid. Remember the plan. We get in, get the stuff, and we get out. The longer we're here, the higher the risk of getting caught. Got it? No distractions.”

  “Oh, come on, Cy. I thought you said we'd be fine? It can't hurt to just look at a couple stalls, right?” Arion
weaved in and out of crowds, staring in awe at every little thing. There were weapons that changed form, and robotic animals crammed into one tent, and tents filled with foods Arion could’ve never imagined. Arion paused at a small table covered in books. He leaned closer to look, and they jumped up at him, but the vendor paid no mind. A sign to the side read Replacement Spell books. Tome wriggled in his coat pocket. He patted it as he moved on.

  Most vendors sold clothing from all over the world. Arion questioned how some could be practical, like pants made entirely of silk, or a full body suit made from a scale-like material. There were even full suits of armor, though the seller demonstrated how the metal bent like clothe.

  He moved from one vendor to another, unable to help himself. The bag he had brought was quickly filling, and he'd only finished half his list.

  “Hey, hey! That's enough ogling. Find a general wares stall, and let's get the hell out of here. You may be willing to die among all this junk, but I, for one, am not!”

  “Fine, fine.” Arion scanned the crowd for the simplest stall. As he wandered the rim of the square, he found the proper stall, and filled their bag to the brim with items from their list, and then some. “Happy now?” he muttered as he tightened the drawstring.

  “Am I ever?” Cy grumbled. “Can we go now?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I'm going. I still don't know what spell you're talking about that Tome has. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you just made it up to get us out of the house.” Cy snorted, and Arion chuckled at him. He heaved the bag onto his back and trekked back to the opening they had entered from. He had to force himself to look straight ahead, knowing if he allowed his eyes to stray, he'd wander again.

  “You look like you're a man on a mission. Anything I can help with?” a sultry voice called to him. He lifted his head, taken aback, and gazed around. His eyes met a pair of purple eyes that shown from within, much like his own. A woman lay on her hip across a long table under a large ornate tent. Tassels dangled in the doorway, and the glint of small gemstones stood out in the dark.

  The woman was gorgeous, and she had Arion's and Cy's attention, both of their mouths agape. She wore thin pants that flared out in the middle, held to her skin around her hips, knees, and ankles. Her top barely covered her chest, and Arion's eyes followed the lines of her curves to the edges of the fabric. Her arms were covered in bangles, bracelets, and even machinery. Small gloves covered most of her hand, but the style was odd. Her first two fingers and her thumb were completely covered, but her last fingers were left bare. She raised her right hand to wave Arion over, and he spotted a faint outline of a heart on her palm through a hole in her glove.

  He was drawn towards her, no longer in control of himself. Before he realized his legs had moved him, he was bumping against her table. The sudden stop jolted him back to reality, and he shook himself. The woman giggled, and Arion chanced to look up at her. She was still alluring, but the pull was gone from his chest.

  Without a word, she spun from the table and sat behind it. In her place sat a large crystal ball, filled with light pink smoke.

  Cy cringed, and Arion began to leave, but the woman caught his hand. He tried to jerk it away, and looked back when he couldn't free himself. The woman's eyes were closed, and the hand that held his let out a faint violet light.

  His eyes roamed from their hands, to the ball. The pink smoke was parting, revealing another woman. She had an angular face, and flushed cheeks. Her thins lips were pulled back as far as they could in a wide smile. Tears streamed down her cheeks from her dark blue eyes that shown with stars. Arion shoved his goggles from his eyes, unsure if what he saw could be real.

  “Luna,” the woman working the crystal ball whispered. “Maiden of the stars. This is whom you seek. Is it not?”

  Arion touched his free hand to the glass, wishing he could wipe the tears from her face. Mom, he thought, unable to speak. He cleared his throat, and bit his lip against the tears welling up in his eyes. The woman released his hand and the image faded. His head shot up and he turned on the woman, who now looked bored.

  “Where is she?” he demanded. Without looking up, the woman tapped one long nail on the front of her table.

  Taking a step back, Arion read aloud, “Jemmina's Fortunes. Knowledge comes at a price.”

  Arion shoved his hand into his pocket, feeling for what change he had left from the day. He counted his money again and again, but he wasn't even close to paying the fee.

  “Sorry, hun. Next time you'll have enough. I'm sure of it.”

  Arion dropped his head into his hands and pulled at his hair. “Ouch! Easy there, kid, I feel that, too. Don't worry about it, she's just a con artist. No one knows the future. Let's just go home. We've got our own plan, remember?”

  But she might know the past. I can't let this opportunity go! Arion protested. Jemmina has to help, I know… Arion stopped his own train of thought.

  “What, kid? Your mind just blanked out. What's going' on?”

  “Jemmina,” he whispered. He whirled back to the stall, slamming his hands on the table. “Holten sent me.”

  Her head lifted slowly, and she peeked at him from the corner of her eyes. “What?” she breathed.

  “Holten sent me?” he tried again, raising his shoulders.

  Jemmina groaned and rolled her eyes. “That bastard,” she muttered under her breath. “You get two minutes.” She held her hand out, and Arion put his hand in hers. The insignia scars lined up, and their magic shot out from their skin, but Arion ignored it. His eyes were glued to the ball.

  The pink smoke pulled back slowly, but there was only black behind it.

  “What do you want to know?” Jemmina asked. All of the smoothness was gone from her voice, and Arion was stunned to hear a gruffness in its place.

  “Theresa Luna. Where is she? What happened to her? Is she still alive? What kind of magic…”

  “Hold on, hold on! One question at a time, jeez.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said as he calmed himself down. “Where is Theresa Luna?” he whispered to the ball. The blackness inside shook and shimmered, and his mother's face began to reappear.

  Arion was knocked forward, and he hit his stomach on the edge of the table. The image in the ball broke, and Arion whirled around in anger. A sneer was plastered on his face, and he searched for whoever had bumped into him.

  Standing near him was a man in what looked like a light blue soldier's uniform, his jacket wrapped around his waist. He wore a skin tight tank top, showing off his muscles. His skin was pure white, save for the bright red flush across his face. His eyes gleamed red and silver.

  Arion stood the man down, meeting him scowl for scowl. The other man looked him up and down, studying him. His eyes went wide, and he took a step back. Scoffing, Arion turned back to the crystal ball. The smoke cleared, and the image of his mother resurfaced. A smile slipped onto his face, but was quickly stolen away.

  “Half breed!” Arion's face paled at the word, and a sweat broke over his brow.

  The word broke the air around Arion, and all other noises ceased. Jemmina's hand twitched in his own. Cracks covered the image in the ball before it cleared completely. Her purple eyes were scanning his face. When she caught his eyes, she gasped. His hand shot up to replace his goggles, but it was too late.

  She gripped his hand tighter and sent a shock into his palm. He was launched back into the street, and she backed away into her tent slowly. The dense crowds of people stumbled away from him, creating a large gap just for him. Despite the amount of space, his breath was coming thinner and thinner.

  He caught himself easily, but remained where he was. His eyes scanned the crowd for some help, but his gaze only found the shoes of a man standing opposite him in the circle of people.

  Arion gulped, and slowly raised his head to meet the eyes of the man that had bumped into him. His red eyes were burning as he stared at Arion. Blue sparks came from his fists. A wide book stuck out from his right pocket.


  “You actually dumb enough to come here, human? To trespass into our city, and think you would be able to leave again? Fat chance.” The man ripped his book from his pocket, and shoved his nose into it. He began to chant after a moment, and more voices joined in.

  “I'm not a human,” Arion protested. “I'm a Mage like you. I have magic, and…and…”

  The man broke his chanting with his sadistic laughter. “You're nothing but a half breed, just as bad as the humans. The only thing worse than you is the Mage scum that made you, that allowed you to exist!”

  Ignoring the spell he had started, the man charged for Arion.

  “Arion, run!” Cy screamed in his head. Arion pushed himself from the ground at full speed. He shoved through the crowd, shocked that no one tried to stop him. Only one set of footprints sounded behind him as he ran blindly through the streets, and they were gaining.

  He turned around every corner he found, ducking in and out of small alleys, but he couldn't shake his chaser. Just as he was beginning to run out of energy, he found a dead end. Arion braced himself against the wall and turned to face his attacker.

  The book was still in the Mage’s hand, but he didn't chant. His right hand was held up in front of him, and small blue flecks of magic fell from it. A blue light shot from his hand in the form of a spear of ice.

  Arion lunged out of the way at the last minute, the point cutting into his arm. He darted towards the man and ran under his arm, shoving into his side with all that he could. He broke out into the street, but he was blocked by a gathering crowd. They packed themselves together this time, giving him no means of escape.

  He heard a thud, and looked behind him. The man fell against the wall, leaving a dent, and his face was redder than ever. “You'll pay for that,” he spat.

  “Defend yourself until you get an opening!” Cy hissed as another spear came at Arion, aimed for his head. He threw his arm up, a shield of green light forming around it. It shattered on impact with the ice, and sparks of cold lightning rained on his coat. It left frost where it landed before the lightning melted it. The crowd was cheering, and he ignored the yells demanding more violence.