“Ugh where the hell is Yancy?” A dark skinned boy whined. He was searching for Yancy Cornman or as he insisted on being called, Tower. Both of them were members of a group called ‘Arcana’, a collection of isekai’d teens who all came to this world for some reason.
Even though it’s named after the tarot deck, there were only six of them, and only him, yancy, and two others actually join the weekly meetings. All of them met some sort of being and got some kind of cheat ability. All of them had aliases, he was called ‘Chariot’.
Hehe, yeah it’s cool. His name was kickass.
When Yancy stopped coming to the meetings, they began worrying about what could’ve happened to him. Chariot wasn’t worried though, because he has a secret that this world doesn’t know. He’s a reality bender, the cheat that he got when he got to this world.
He had the ability to DIRECT anything. He’s basically Acc*lerator from T*aru Maj*tsu no Ind*x.
“I’m basically the main character already.” He said this out loud, gloating to no one in particular.
He also has a secondary ability that no one else in ‘Arcana’ has, he can direct himself to anywhere he wants. Though it only shows a vague direction, he’s slowly getting better at it. He was pointing himself to Yancy’s direction, but it was getting harder and harder to keep up.
“How the hell did Corn boy get to Sha Hanshas?!” He panted. He’s been moving for days now, without enough sleep, water, or places to shit.
His target was somewhere in this tourist trap of a country. It was like everywhere he turned to there was a food stall, gin joint, toy shop, or brothel, sometimes all four at the same time. They charged ludicrous prices for stuff he could find somewhere else. He could see the optical illusions and painted facades that goad a person into believing this place is paradise.
Years of living in the capitalist dystopia of America has made him immune to such feeble attempts at subliminal marketing, that he could navigate the city sized labyrinths of slums and theme parks. It felt like D**neyland, but on steroids and estrogen.
But he felt that this place was lacking an essential part of any dystopia, and that would be the rebellion brewing underneath. He needed to find the people who could flip all this shit upside-down, he needed to find the Woke left.
The woke left has always inspired calamity and freedom, basing on his experiences of brick throwing and op car smashing, so he thinks that Yancy would definitely be involved in something like that. He needed a place where graffiti was frequent, something that said ACAB or any close approximation of it to locate Yancy.
He wore a mask and a cloak that obscured his appearance while standing by a dimly lit alley menacingly, before a guard
“Oi Hands up where I can see them!”
He froze and slowly put his hands up.
“U-um good evening officers?”
One of the guards pushed him against the wall and another one just slaps him
“What the hell man!” Chariot said annoyed at the manhandling.
“Let me see your identification!”
“I’m just looking for a friend, please just let me go.”
One of them patted him down and took out a bag of powdered crystal.
What the hell, I didn’t have that with me. Chariot frowned. These bastards are planting shit on me!
One of them takes out a set of manacles and moves closer.
“Possession of illegal drugs are charged with ten years of jail time pal.” Said a pasty faced gremlin of a guard.
Chariot panicked and directed the two guards near him away, knocking them to the wall.
One of them zapped him with a wand.
“GAAH!”
One of the guards threw a knife to his feet and yelled to his communicator gem.
“He’s got a knife! He’s got a knife! Stop resisting!”
The guards pointed their wands in his direction.
Shit
They began blasting balls of ice and fire indiscriminately, almost hitting a crowd of uninvolved civilians.
Chariot began running as fast as he could towards the alleyways, before spotting a manhole. He directed the vector of forces around him to the entrance and flung the covering to the pursuing guards, knocking one of them out.
This place sucks.
He wanted to get Yancy and leave as fast as he could.
He could hear the footsteps of soldiers and the barking of chaser hounds. He needed to block their way and lose his scent.
He directed the sewage to avoid him and block the pursuers. Then he directed his scent to stay close to him.
He ran as quick as he could until he no longer heard the barking of dogs and the yelling of guards.
He could kill them easily, but he was a bit of a wuss when trying to do the deed. Also they had dogs, it’s not their fault that they were trained to live only as killing machines.
He calmed himself down and kept walking. He followed the directions towards tower and walked. He cast a spell that he learned when he came to this world.
“LIGHT”
A ball of light floated around him, illuminating his path in the dank and dark system of the sewers. It was dark. It was silent. But this time he knew where to go.
He hums, thinking about his life before this world.
His real name is Willy Waller, born in Chesterfield, Missouri. He had a simple life, one that he still missed even now. He misses the family he left behind. Even now he mourns the future he lost. One day he was walking a little later than usual when a van showed up. He could still smell the trunk and the tang of iron. He escaped in the middle of the night when the one who captured him took a piss in a gas station.
He ran, bloody and bruised, hoping to find help. He heard people and saw flashlights. He yelled for help, still having fingers zip-tied. He shouldn’t have yelled. He shouldn’t have. He died then and there, in Monroe, a sundown town.
Chariot slapped his cheeks trying to shake his mood off. It’s okay, it’s okay now. “The only way out is through. The only way out is through.” He whispered to himself, as he has done so for decades. He never knew or cared to cut his hair, permanent puberty hormones be damned. So he just let it grow and tied it with a cute little band. It’s okay though. “Let it pass, let it be. The only way out is through.” He repeated it all as he calmed down.
Atleast here in this world, he has the power to defend himself and those he loves. Like the ‘Arcana’, his second family.
He remembers his friends back in that world. He’s slowly forgetting their faces. Their voices are nothing but static in his mind now. He fears that he is forgetting them completely.
Willy's memories [https://imgur.com/gallery/analog-horror-1-KHqPlBj]
He wishes that he could have at least said his goodbyes and returned the stuff he borrowed from them. The eraser from Suzy, the pencil from Tommy, the calculator from Logann, and the science book from V-v-va..... What was their name again?
“Aghh”
His head hurts. The more he tries to remember, the more things he forgets.
He feels the pull of Yancy suddenly stop and turn above him. He was now directly below his target.
He focused himself and DIRECTED gravity and whatever energy was available to create a pathway to his target. The bricks shook and vibrated as if alive as the darkness around him churned at the call of the concept in his very being. He saw the vector of every single thing around him change.
He smiles. It was no wonder that he was the leader of the ‘Arcana’ if he could do something like this with ease.
“Let’s get out of here Corn boy.”
------------------------------------------
Carper ‘The Tower’ Glass, who was formerly known as Yancy Cornman, was taking a shit after eating some bad oysters.
He felt like he just went through an anal marathon with how many collective miles he’s expelled from his behind. He was dehydrated and withering, as he struggled to keep himself sane.
His master offered to bleed the tummy ache away into the air, but it somehow found it’s way back to him after infecting a couple of other people in the vicinity. He decided to just take the burden with dignity and shit it all away.
He had a jug of water and an ‘Immortal’s peach’ his master gave him.
He identified a fruit covered in wax paper with the image of a lotus surrounded by good luck charms in a logo sticker.
Immortal’s Peach (lesser)
Food, Rare
A mass produced fruit in the Shinxing Empire commonly used by most cultivation practitioners. When consumed, it gives the user the ability to expel impurities and exfoliate the skin. Due to being ‘lesser’ it can only give a moderate amount of qi.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
With this he could ease his pained stomach.
Before he could take a bite of the fruit he felt the toilet, floors, and ceiling rumble like a mad God that bore judgement upon him.
In his shock, he dropped the fruit on the floor and rolled between the stalls.
“My fruit!”
The rumbling increased and shook the place like an earthquake.
He felt the floor bulge and warp as it exploded, knocking him out of his latrine throne.
“Yancy Corn- ptuy pthhh, what the hell is that”
A new individual appeared in a shower of water and feces.
“Urgh”
The new individual smelled himself and saw the pools of contaminated water around him and the splayed out anus of his target.
“Ugh gross” Chariot directed all the poo and water that covered him away as he patted himself dry.
Tower lifted himself up and turned to look at the new visitor.
“Chariot?”
“Yancy! Where have you been dude? Also why are you in a toilet, underground, beneath the city?”
A knock cam from the door and Judith’s voice was heard. “Tower, is everything alright there? I heard something blow up. Do you want me to come in?”
Tower and Chariot looked at the gaping hole filled with poo and water.
“U-um no master, it’s just a small accident.”
“You sure?”
“Yep, everything is fine. I’ll be out in a second.”
Tower turned his head to Chariot and whispered.
“Why are you here man?”
“Well you weren’t in the meetings and we kinda thought you were stranded or lost or something.”
“No, I already told you guys everything!”
“What? No you haven’t.”
“Yes I did, I sent a message through the chat function of the system.”
Chariot opened his HUD and saw the red 99+ pop-up in the chat function he never uses.
“O-oh.......sorry” Chariot looked down and apologized.
“Look I kinda need to get back to my master after this, so could you leave right now?” Tower glared at his friend.
“Well could you at least tell me why you’re here?”
Tower sighed. “I’m in my training arc man. I found a really powerful master that teaches me cool shit.”
“.....” Chariot stared at him.
“....”
“Can I stay?” Chariot said shyly.
“What? No!”
“Why not? It sucks hanging out with them right now. All they talk about is training, dungeon delving, or finding some lost doohickey. Dude, it’s so lame there right now, everyone’s so serious.” Chariot pleaded with puppydog eyes.
“Uhh, fine.”
“Yay!”
“But I need to ask my master first, we’re kinda in a secret mission right now.”
Another knock came from the door.
“I’m opening the door!”
“Wait, master stop!”
Judith opened the door to reveal her apprentice with no pants, smeared in shit, accompanied by a sketchy cloaked and masked individual, probably a drug dealer. She turned her head and saw the gaping hole in the floor.
Through Judith’s advanced deductive reasoning, she surmised that this is a sex thing. She was briefly disgusted in the stuff that her apprentice was into, namely being watched by strangers while smeared in poo, before turning to disappointment, then to pity. She couldn’t figure out what the hole is for though, probably another kink.
“Oh Tower...” She tried to put a face that said ‘I understand and accept you, so long as it’s consensual’.
“Master!”
---------------------------------
Wyatt was currently in his office flipping through the dossiers of his new apprentices. He finished rating their abilities, strengths, and weaknesses in paper and smiled. They were the cream of the crop, obtained through a mix of coercion, bribery, and even more bribery.
Truly, he might have just beaten the others in the apprentice thing.
He grins and looks at their files.
══════════════════
Arthur Lycannus Silverwing, specializing in evocation and invocation. The seventh prince of Bukor Hantas, and an illegitimate child of the current king. Sports an almost perfect mastery of Thaumaturgy, the ability to bring forth changes in the physical world, unfortunately the poor kid might have some traumatic experiences that constantly hinder his ability to learn with others.
Has intense fears of cutlery, darkness, blood, and closed spaces.
He has eleven out of twelve stars in thaumaturgy, but his other abilities are lacking so he needs a bit more tutelage. Overall, a pretty kind and mellow kid.
Theurgy: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 6
Thaumaturgy: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 11
Reality Warping: ★ ★ ★ 3
Willpower: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 6
Potential: S+ (26)
══════════════════
He could be a hero class magi in the future, but only time will tell if he ever conquers his own trauma.
“Poor kid was practically begging me to take him away when we met.”
He skimmed through a bit more of his history and abilities, before moving to the next file.
══════════════════
John Elizer Deerail, specializing in abjuration and willpower. Child of the head of Deerail Magic Heavy Industries and a formations expert. He shows signs of minor reality warping abilities, specifically pathifery or the ability to warp the world through emotional power alone. Once he wants something, the world would bend to make it easier for him to acquire it, albeit unconsciously.
He needs more training to unlock his capabilities, but overall above average when it comes to other schools of magic.
Has a bit of an ego, so that’s a flaw he needs to manage. He could be very, very powerful if left unchecked in the long run.
Theurgy: ★ ★ ★ ★ 4
Thaumaturgy: ★ ★ ★ ★ 4
Reality Warping: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 6
Willpower: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 10
Potential: A+ (24)
══════════════════
Wyatt flicks through pages, scanning anything of note.
He stumbled upon a previous case that involved the kid being abducted by a cult and captured for two years in another country, before being brought back by a team of heroes.
Wyatt puts a bookmark on that for later, before focusing on the next file.
══════════════════
Loni Alexander Cadmon, specializing in transmutation and reality warping. He is the grandson of Adam Cadmon, the founder of Cadmon Armories, a powerful company that specializes in reality bending artifacts and planar gates.
He has the ability to convince reality of anything he wishes, that is if he can show it in a formula. He has the ability of mathematical manipulation, able to change the numeric property of things like size, shape, width, heat, luminosity, etc.
A good example would be if there was a rock that weighed 10 kilograms, he could add a zero at the end of it and make it 100. He could even make a 12 year old tree into a 21 year old tree if he laid out the ritual for it. He can do anything imaginable, but it would take a long time to do it.
The potential is there, but it is very hard to reach without our help. A jack of all trades and an all rounder when it comes to capabilities.
Theurgy: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 5
Thaumaturgy: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 6
Reality Warping: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 9
Willpower: ★ ★ ★ ★★ 5
Potential: S (25)
══════════════════
Hopefully he gets the confidence he needs in his time here in the academy.
Wyatt smiled as he flipped through the rest of the documents before facing the last file on his table.
══════════════════
Carmilla Scarlette Starlight, specializing in willpower and theurgy. Willpower is the collective designation to all magics and practices that deal with soul, psyche, mind, and personas. Basically whoever masters it could do wild things with the mind, like split it, puppeteer it, put it in another body, give one to an inanimate object, or use possession magic. She could be a necromancer if she wanted to.
She also has theurgy in the elevens which makes her adept in divine magics, summoning angels and other things in the same vein. If she honed it correctly, she could even start her own religion.
Although, she’s currently very weak, so she’ll need all the help she can get.
She managed to make some living equipment somehow without any guidance out in the boonies, so she might be a genius in the making. Only time will tell if she manages to reach such heights.
Theurgy: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 11
Thaumaturgy: ★ ★ ★ 3
Reality Warping: ★ ★ ★ 3
Willpower: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 11
Potential: SS+ (28)
══════════════════
Wyatt cracked his neck and stretched his back after sitting in place with all the paperwork.
“I think I deserve a reward”
He closed the blinds and locked the doors. He put up a bubble barrier that distorted time and space. He double checked to see if all the systems he had were in place.
Wyatt grinned as he reached for a secret drawer he had in his desk. He made a key out of bubbles and pushed it in the keyhole. He turned it once, then twice, then let it pop, triggering the lock mechanism.
He slowly pulled it out to reveal a simple handkerchief.
He took it and smelled it.
He felt all his worries melt away.
It was Dennis’ handkerchief, one he always used to wipe away his sweat. It was something precious to Wyatt. He would always wash it and spray it with Dennis’ perfume.
Wyatt always had a thing for the ratkin, ever since they were kids. He always loved him, but never thought he’d be loved back.
He felt a pit in his chest. This was as far as he will ever get, and he’s okay with that...
It stings when he touches his shoulders, when he sees him smile in the morning, when he hears his voice call out his name.
It has always stung.
But he couldn’t force something that could never be.
After all, Dennis wouldn’t ever see him that way.
Maybe in a different life he could have told him, and maybe he would have moved on. But how could he.
Everything he has ever done, he did it for the one he loved most. He did it to be closer.
He puts the handkerchief closer to his chest and sat on the floor. It was getting wet again.
He remembers the times he hugged him, the times they shared secrets, the times they shared moments that were theirs and theirs alone.
If only it would stay like that.
If only he could have tried it all a bit differently.
Tens of thousands of years of yearning and he’s still scared of something as simple as heartbreak.
He remembers when he was still just a serf working in a kitchen and would steal candied pears to share with him. He remembers the times he spoke to him softly under candlelight, teaching him of things he never even imagined before. He remembers when he learned his first spell and the laughter they echoed through the halls.
.....
He remembered when his family found him someone to wed.
He remembered when he saw his eyes light up for the first time. In a way that was different from the way he looked at him. It was then that his heart weighed more than it ever did.
How he spent days alone without him.
He remembered the day they announced their wedlock and the day he asked Wyatt to stand by his side. He saw them interlock their hands and join their lips as flowers were thrown in their joyous matrimony.
How he spent wishing that it would have been him by his side.
He remembered seeing them share a night of passion between the crack of a door and how he ran far away from the scene wailing.
He remembered how they were expecting a child and the smile that Dennis showed him.
He remembered the war.
He remembered the blood, the ash, the fire, and rain. He remembered how he held back waves of beasts to give her a chance to escape and how he remembered coming back bloody and bruised.
He remembered the cry of another man who lost the he loved, a woman who was withchild.
He remembered how the one he loved grew cold and cruel. How the face that smiled so kindly to him gave orders to act out punishment in an icy apathetic voice.
He remembered the one he loved losing life and becoming something undead.
He remembered how the years passed by and the coldness become less than what it was.
He remembered the years that he stood by his side even in his heartache.
The handkerchief he held was now wet with tears as what used to give him comfort gave him pain.
“Why couldn’t it have been me.” Wyatt whispered to himself.
“Why...”
“Why....”
The room fell silent as he sat there in the darkness holding the thing that brought him comfort as it stung him with every inch of its thread woven being. He cried till he fell asleep, hoping to wake up hours from now, forgetting the sting he always feels.