Prologue

From the Desk of Soren Marlowe

Thursday, March 16th, 2124

Here continue the confessions of Soren Marlowe, the Magpie Wizard, formerly Captain Malthus of the demonic Grim Horde, and ever-so-briefly Brother Mockingbird of the Holy Brotherhood of Mankind. Three names for one man, but very different causes for each. I was Malthus the half-devil by birth, Soren Marlowe by theft, and Brother Mockingbird by blackmail. I ought to have been thankful that I’d had two of those personas stripped from me. It made life simpler, yet all the more precarious. To borrow an analogy from video games, I was on my last ‘guy’.

After all, my name was mud to whatever remained of the Holy Brotherhood. Really, they should have expected me to turn on them; I had been brought into the extremist organization by Maggie Edwards through blackmail. She’d even thought me a demonkin, a human sympathizer of the devils, and she still came to rely on me. I was either a fantastic actor, or Maggie saw what she wanted to in me. She was the one who knew of my demonic tendencies, and she was always the greatest threat to my continued existence. Thankfully, she was out of the picture. I’d seen to that personally and quite permanently.

I imagined the Grim Horde wasn’t any fonder of me, which was far more concerning. The Holy Brotherhood was a spent force in the autumn of 2050, but the Grim Horde were masters of most of the Earth, save for humanity’s island strongholds. It wasn’t perfect, but those lands were my true home. I’d been banished for my crimes against the dignity of my commanding officer, Girdan the Fair, but I’d been offered a chance to return in glory. All I had to do was to help the Holy Brotherhood destroy my new alma mater, the Nagoya Academy of Magic. I’d even had a plan to betray the Holy Brotherhood and take them down with the Nagoya Tower. Maggie had foolishly granted a known demonkin control of the detonator to their magical bomb, and I’d secured my escape.

Then I’d blinked. My friends, including my lover Kiyo, had been in the Tower the whole time without my knowledge. My weakness wouldn’t let me turn away while they were in danger. A proper devil would have blown the Tower with them inside and cackled on the way out. Instead, I returned and saved them, foiling the whole attack. The attack was supposed to be my ticket to a triumphant return. Yet, at the end of the day, the Tower still stood.

The humans called me a hero. My friends thought me a reformed demonkin. Kiyo knew the truth, and she left me. Not because I was a half-devil, but because I’d spent our entire relationship constantly lying to her about Maggie.

I wasn’t sure what the devils called me, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be fit for print. The Holy Brotherhood wouldn’t be any more complimentary.

I was free of Maggie’s grip, but I was still trapped. I couldn’t go home to the Grim Horde. My best offer had been to come back as Girdan’s manservant, and that was before I’d promised I’d down the Nagoya Tower and kill the school’s headmaster. I was sure if I somehow made it back to occupied Europe, I’d get the hangman’s noose… if they opted to be quick about it.

The only identity I had left was Soren Marlowe, and I’d stolen that. Hell, I’d had a hand in killing the poor boy during the invasion of England. I thought I’d have been done living a lie with the destruction of the Holy Brotherhood, but the lie was all I had left. I’d have to pretend to be Soren for the foreseeable future. However, I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. I couldn’t possibly keep it up, could I? My human weakness had driven me to surrender my plans, but my demonic side still lived in me. That demonic nature would come out, and then the whole farce would be over.

Almost more terrifying was the question of what I’d do with myself if I weren’t discovered. It was a life sentence with no possibility of parole.

With no direction in my life, I was almost grateful that they’d stuck me with a taskmaster like Yukiko Sato in the aftermath of the Tower Attack.

Almost. I might have liked to have a moment’s peace occasionally.

Still, a time would come when I would miss such mundane annoyances.

Chapter 1

Tokyo, Japan

Friday, October 1st, 2050

“What kind of a sadist invented your writing system?” I demanded. Settling back in my chair in Fort Flamel’s mess hall, I rubbed my aching head. The spartan room was large enough to fit thirty comfortably at long tables, and we had staked out some seats away from the door.

“Excuse me?” Despite only coming up to my shoulder, Yukiko Sato’s sharp question made my heart flutter, and not in a pleasant way.

At least it had banished my headache for the moment. I decided to press on. “Kanji, Hiragana, Katakana, and then borrowed European letters and numbers. Some are pictographs, some are sounded out, some you read vertically and right to left, but some of it you go left to right. It’s a wonder you ever managed to industrialize!”

“What about your language, hm?” Yukiko rose to her feet, crossing her arms under her chest. I kept eye contact; human girls seemed to think it was creepy to ogle them. Another way we devils are more reasonable, since what’s the harm in a little admiration?

“What about it? There’s thir—” I almost said thirty characters, since I was about to defend the honor of High Demonic script, but then I remembered she thought me an Englishman. “There’s twenty-six letters that you recombine. Seems reasonable to me.”

“Reasonable?” She looked down her nose like an aristocrat born. “Rough and brought are almost spelled the same, but in one the -gh is more of an eff sound, and in the other it’s silent. ‘I before e except after c’, except for all the times when it doesn’t work like that. You’re in no position to complain.”

It says something about me that in that moment, I thought she looked absolutely ravishing. There was something about a woman with a commanding personality that was my personal catnip. Ah, well; I’d long since missed my shot there, and she was a taken woman. I could tell my randy imagination to find other pursuits.

“So you’re telling me you wouldn’t design Japanese writing differently, given the chance?” I asked, learning forward and casually resting my chin on my hand. “I know you’d come up with something more rational, Ms. Sato.”

Her eyebrow twitched at my lackadaisical attitude, which was the desired effect. However, her grim face cracked with just the hint of a smile. “More rational? Certainly. Language isn’t rational, though, and you aren’t going to argue your way out of Japanese lessons.”

“I don’t see the point of this,” I said. “They have magical translators back at the school.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Do you see any of those around here?” she asked, sitting back down. “There’s still no word on when they’re reopening the Tower, and you need to know some of the native language. I’m tired of being your translator around the base.”

“Then can I have a break? We’ve been at this all morning. I could use a coffee.” I pointed to a row of dispensers on the far wall on the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry?” She put her hand up to her ear, feigning ignorance. “Coffee? I do not understand that word. Maybe you should use one of the vocabulary words I taught you.”

“I want to get a kohii, then, you warugaki.”

Yukiko’s brow furrowed. “Brat? I don’t remember teaching you that one.”

“I did some independent study,” I replied, making my way over. “I’ll get you one too, while I’m at it.”

“Three sugars,” she said in a commanding tone, adding a belated ‘thank you’ a moment later.

I couldn’t help but smile as I turned away. Ms. Sato had softened since I first met her, but you couldn’t beat the SatoCorp heiress’ snootiness out of her completely.

Then again, I was doing goblin’s work fetching her a drink, wasn’t I? Back home, that was the sort of favor one would do for a superior, not an equal.

I chose not to focus on it. At least she took the coffee graciously and closed the Japanese for Gaijin book she’d found in the base’s library, signaling that I’d earned a break.

“It’s almost like the old days,” I said, before my lips curled into a wan grin. “Back when you were tutoring me in… magical runes.” I’d nearly slipped up and said human runes, which while accurate, wouldn’t have been exactly natural.

“The old days? It was a few months ago,” she retorted, her eyes narrowing. “Besides, we know who spoiled it all.”

I winced as if she’d struck me. “I hate it when you’re right.” And she was right an awful lot. I’d stolen a kiss from her without her permission, ending what budding friendship we might have had for a time.

Her self-satisfied little smirk made me glad she was Hiro Takehara’s problem. At least she let my statement go without providing commentary. “I wonder what’s keeping Rose? The Smiths must have been interrogating her for two hours at this point.”

“Every morning with those faceless spooks.” I shuddered at their mention. “Poor girl. Where did they get the idea that she was a Holy Sister?”

“You should be grateful, I’d think,” she said. “It might be you in there, and you have a crime to confess to.”

“Yes, Yukiko, let’s just declare that in the middle of the mess hall,” I whispered.

“There’s hardly anyone around; just the staff, and they’re back in the kitchen,” she replied.

“Regardless,” I said, “Rose is at least taking some heat off me. That’s no excuse to go lighting matches, if you follow me.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” she said. “Thankfully it doesn’t happen often.”

“You wound me, Yukiko! Here I thought you’d finally forgiven me.”

“I do forgive you,” she replied, delicately sipping at the coffee cup before her. “For somebody so fond of teasing, you have thin skin.”

“Let’s get off this topic,” I said.

“Yes, let’s get back to Rose. Maybe one of us should go check on her? At least she would want to see a friendly face when she gets out of there.”

“Then it had best be me,” I said. “I don’t know where else we’d find a friendly face around here.”

That earned a rare chuckle from Yukiko. “See? Always teasing.” She rose to her feet, her now-empty mug glowing red as her Gravity Shift affinity took hold of it. A wave of her hand sent it gently to the other side of the room in a bin of dirty dishes. A moment later, my own empty cup joined it.

“Arrigato,” I said.

“Hm. We need to work on your accent,” she said.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” I said, opening the door for her to pass.

It was an overcast day at Fort Flamel, though I couldn’t see it too well over the high, stone walls. It reminded me of a medieval castle. The artificial island had been constructed near the mouth of Tokyo Bay as a magical research center for the Wizard Corps, as well as an outpost on the off chance that some suicidal devil made a play for the Anti-Demonic League’s capital. It was close enough to the city to be a short ferry ride away, but far enough to mitigate the damage if a prototype fabricata were too effective. It also made it a convenient spot for League Intelligence to do their work without too many prying eyes.

We wove our way between the buildings, and I honestly considered guiding Yukiko into some of the narrow alleys between the buildings. Sadly, she had already made the most direct path to the League Intelligence building. Nobody could ever say that Yukiko wasn’t efficient. Not that I wanted to waste time either, but I didn’t have the energy for what would come next.

“Heya, Magpie!” came a joyous shout.

After all, I’d spotted Rafal Kowalski from the other side of the small base. The blond man was nearly impossible to miss, standing well over six feet and with a heavy build that was mostly muscle after a year of military training. Mostly. Either way, his white and green Wizard Corps cadet uniform didn’t fit as well as mine.

“Morning, Kowalski,” I said, forcing some cheer into my voice as we came to a stop. A glance at his ankle showed a magical fabricata. I relaxed a bit, recognizing it as a magical disruptor. His troublesome Buddy wouldn’t be making an appearance.

“Hello, Mr. Kowalski,” said Yukiko with a shallow bow.

His face fell a bit. “Oh, not you too, Ms. Sato! I’ve told you, friends can call me Rafal.”

“Yet you call her Ms. Sato?” I asked. “After all that time you two spent working together in the War Game, too.”

“W-well, I guess you have a point there,” he said. “Can I join you two? I’m bored out of my mind today.”

“That’s a personal choice,” said Yukiko. “There’s always something to do.”

“Really?” asked Kowalski. “Like what?”

“You could be joining us for Japanese lessons,” she suggested. “We’ve been doing them every morning in the cafeteria.”

He replied with a string of syllables that I couldn’t make out one bit of. Yukiko responded with her own query, which he replied to with a happy lilt in his voice.

“Oh, I see. You don’t really need to join us, then,” she replied.

“Am I the only one on this base who isn’t fluent?” I griped.

“Possibly,” said Yukiko. “What was your second language in school?”

English, I thought to myself. Mother had seen to that. “French, though I read it better than I speak.” General Girdan’s library in the old Palace of Versailles had been my frequent retreat as a youth, and escaping the less wholesome aspects of Horde life had been a fine inducement to learn.

“Huh, that’s cool,” said Kowalski.

“Not as useful, but it may come in handy down the line,” said Yukiko. “Mr. Kowalski, am I right that you barely passed your second-year written exams?”

“Wh-who told you?” he stammered. “That should be private, shouldn’t it?”

“Mr. Maki,” she said. “It’s alright; I am your class representative, after all.”

“Even though we’ve moved on to second year and the school is shut down?” I asked. “It seems to me we’ve graduated from being your charges.”

She sniffed, taking mild offense. “Until we’re officially given a new assignment, I’m still responsible for you all. Anyhow, Mr. Kowalski, judging by the red in your face, I’m not misremembering your grades.”

“No, you aren’t,” he admitted.

“I’ll help you out with that, then,” she said.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t. I don’t want to be a burden on you,” he said, shaking his head.

“That’s nonsense!” spat Yukiko.

“Yukiko,” I whispered. “Flies and honey, remember?”

Her own face fell a moment as she slipped into old ways, before she coughed into her hand. “I mean, you shouldn’t worry. I’m always happy to help.”

“You should focus on Magpie,” he said, followed by a gulp. “I know I’m just going to waste your time.”

That was the wrong thing to say, but I cut off Yukiko. I leaned over, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll let you in a secret then, Kowalski. You’d be doing me a big favor; she’s been teaching me Japanese relentlessly, and I could use a break. What do you say? Will you take her off my hands occasionally? I think we’ll all benefit.”

Yukiko pouted for a moment, before realization dawned. “And I do get tired of Mr. Marlowe’s reluctance. What do you say?”

“Well… if it won’t be a problem.”

“Of course not!” crowed Yukiko. “What do you say we start working in the afternoons?”

“Why not get started now?” I proposed. “I’ll tend to Rose, and you can get started with Kowalski.”

Yukiko tilted her head. “Hm? We still have some time for Japanese lessons this morning.”

“That can wait,” I said. “After all, I can do without Japanese a while longer. The Da—” I coughed, having nearly invoked the ruler of the Grim Horde. It was common slang back home, and hard to resist when I felt comfortable. “The Good Lord knows we’re due for the front lines soon enough. Kowalski needs the tutoring more.”

“You’re technically right,” said Yukiko. “Alright, Soren, if you’ve had enough for now, I’ll give you a respite… until tomorrow.” There was such malice in her voice. “Come along, Mr. Kowalski. Let’s head over to the target range. We haven’t worked together for a while, and I want to see what I’m working with.” She gestured for him to follow, and he obeyed.

“Is there something wrong with my first name?” he asked as I jogged out of earshot. “Why won’t anyone use it?”