Authors Corner

Answers and even more questions this time. Let me know if you find it confusing. As usual, please leave comments, feedback or questions below.

Thanks for reading!

----------------------------------------

Chapter 10 – Let's Skip Over the Candlestick.

Wilson, the shocked

Up in a spire, brain on fire.

I'm shocked.

I'm still shocked. The shock was so great that my hand had let go of the glorified candlestick I had been holding. Good. Fine. I don't think it would have really helped in my current situation.

The bland looking man in gray that is scrutinizing me is the Merchant I've kept imagining being sold to. 

No, correction, according to him he's not even a merchant anymore. 

He's something far worse. 

He's a person of power in this city. I just dropped a sconce on his floor. Maybe I should pretend I'm confused about it as he is.

As he's watching me and waiting for my response, I stare at the sconce then contort my face into confusion. Then I slowly raise my head to stare at the ceiling, as if I expect to find more sconces there. When I don't, because there is nothing there, I tilt my head as if it's not what I had expected. 

Mission accomplished.

I just hope this will be enough to let us skip over an awkward conversation.

I bring my head back down shaking away my feigned confusion. The man has an indifferent look on his face. Looks like I get a pass on my performance.

Sav has begun talking. I don't think he had noticed the sconce. Weren't you supposed to be a hunter, Sav? What happened to keeping a close watch on me? 

Now that I think about it, Sav, you're beginning to be one of my least favorite people. 

What have you been saying throughout our journey here? Some nonsense about taking me to a merchant. I'd be happy if it were a merchant. A merchant doesn't hold nearly as much of the intangible power of politics that these fists of mine can't reach. To surmount that kind of power I'd need to defy reality itself. This body is amazing, but only magic would suffice. Big magic that makes politics plots involving thousands of soldiers pointless.

Yes, magic. Something I have none of.

Sav, why were you saying all of this? I know it sounds strange coming from me, but is there something wrong with your head?

“Oi, I'd call you Phillius Oakbard if it weren't no mouthful, or maybe if it didn't make you sound right pleasant. Same with your title. It's pleasant, up until you go look for other Planners. There be no higher position in the city than yours, certain. I'll be not givin' my hand to help you higher.” Sav has been explaining his behavior while I'm considering punching him after all.

That's not the explanation I want, damnit.

Sav. This is the longest amount of strung together coherent words I've ever heard from your mouth. Why couldn't I have heard an explanation of similar length about my circumstances until now? I have nothing to go on.

My situation isn't looking good.

I've been brought to meet the head of the city. I'm not being sold, it turns out. It's both reassuring and scary at the same time. I have no idea what I'm doing here, aside from the fact that this man wanted to meet me. The stakes have risen, but the dice have not yet been cast.

I'm feeling a bit of an itch in my knuckles, and maybe my right eyelid is acting up.

I'm holding back my smile as best I can. What can I say? Gambling sounds like fun.

---

Phillius Oakbard

As the Mage and retinue walk in, I notice that he is ordinary, for a Mage. This doesn't quite match with my limited experience with Mages. The ones I've met are either ugly or inhumanly attractive. I have a theory about why that is, but I keep it to myself. The would probably find it offensive.

This man in front of me is almost nondescript. His face is entirely average, but his body is oddly fit for a Mage and his Ethul would stand out immediately. The shifting mottled flowing robe mark him clearly as a Mage, but the colors are all wrong. I can see why they caused a disturbance coming through the Lower City.

I've never heard of any living Mage, nor any legend, nor any fiction describe a robe that has such ugly colors. Ethuls always have bright vibrant colors or in rare cases they can be colored like the precious metals. That has always been the case. What Mage would ever pick such ugly colors in the robe they are bound to for the rest of their life. A very strange one.

Hmm.

Aside from the minor disturbance in the city, it doesn't really concern me. I see in front of me a Mage that doesn't mind what others think. I can make use of that. Mages are hard to find, especially ones that are easy to deal with.

This one is probably no more eccentric than a normal Mage. He dropped a torch holder when he came in. I have no idea why he was carrying it. It was one of the ones from the hall.

From the display he's putting on trying to pretend like it wasn't him, I learn something. I take back what I said about his average looking face. It's one of the most expressive faces I've ever seen. It's the kind of face that always shows what it's wearer is thinking. When he first came in his face was impassive, moments later it was fiendish, before passing looking worried on the way to hard thought. He currently looks satisfied with whatever he was thinking. 

This Mage seems to be a simpleton.

He's slowly started looking at the ceiling, after the worst attempt at subterfuge I've seen in a long time. There must be something wrong with his head. I have a guess as to what it is. Mages I've run across have explained the phenomena of Mana Corruption to me. It is apparently a side effect after rigorous training.

During the performance I look over at Sav and raise an eyebrow.

Sav is looking at me with a small smile. I recognize that expression on him. He's gloating.

I think I have an idea what's going on. The Mage is mana-addled and since Sav hates Mages, even more than he hates everyone else, he didn't bother explaining my intentions.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

I asked Sav to politely invite a Mage to talk to me, if he came across one whilst roaming. From the reports I received earlier, apparently Sav had the Mage chained up throughout the Lower City like some sort of animal in the back of his shoddy wagon.

That's clearly against my wishes, but I've known Sav for a long time, so this much is within my expectations. I had also expected that any Mage he came across would have killed him if he acted poorly. This one must be very lenient, which will fit nicely into my designs.

While I've been calculating ahead, Sav has been tarnishing my name.

I'll have to clear up the misunderstandings if I want this Mage to be of any use to me. It will be tedious. Sav likes to show me the disadvantages of being as ruthless as I am. I don't need to be shown, nor do I care. It's more disadvantageous to have him act like this in front of my subordinates.

I can tolerate this rudeness of his when I weigh it against how useful he's been over the years, in both private and public matters. I won't factor in personal feelings into decisions regarding city affairs, business is business, but this much is still a tolerable amount to let slide.

He is looking rather smug after insulting me.

I wish this Mage wasn't so lenient.

---

Wilson, the Amazing Actor

The head city planner, Phillius, is observing Sav. His eyes are piercing.

Sav's amusement visibly wanes.

The seconds drag on until Sav is fully wilted, all traces of good humor gone.

The City Planner swivels his head back to look at me.

“If it wouldn't be too much trouble, could I possibly have your name?” he asks dryly. He has a trace of a smile on his lips, but it's too faint to be comforting.

This isn't good. The pressure is getting to me.

“A-ah. It's Wil-s-s-son.” I reply weakly.

I didn't say anything strange. At least, I didn't think so, but the City Planner has his eyebrows slightly raised. From what little I've seen of him so far, he's definitely curious.

“Wil Son is it? I didn't know any Mages followed Heram.” he says, but immediately corrects himself. “Ah sorry, that was rude of me.”

“Heram? N-no I don't think I d-do.” 

His eyebrows lower back down. Apparently that answer satisfied his curiosity.

Wait, did he say Mage?

“If I might ask, W-why are you calling me a mage?”

It's a good question.

Why is everyone in the room, with the exception of Lady Guard, staring at me? Lady Guard just looks like she doesn't care at all, I'm not sure the words even registered. She has that whole soldier impassive vibe going on. Probably doing her grocery list or something.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

“Well, you are wearing an Ethul, are you not?”

“E-thul?”

“Yes, the robe you are wearing is a Mage robe, is it not?”

I look down at my robe. My magical robe. 

Magical.

I've heard confirmation for the first time. A lot of things click into place in my head. A tiny rush of giddiness goes through me. I have a magical item, it's a magical robe. Part one of my wizard ensemble is complete.

Wait, I'm in conversation with a scary man. 

Focus. Focus. Focus.

“Y-y-y-yes, n-now that you mention it, this robe is m-magical.” I say, dodging having to lie. Not like I have a problem with lying. I just think this man would notice.

I think he picked up on it.

“I've never met such an interesting Mage before, I'm thrilled to have the chance. Would it be possible to see one of your spells?” he asks.

He's obviously lying, he didn't sound enthusiastic at all. Just more of the same dry voice. He'll keep harassing me nicely until I show him magic. I really need to make connections, and this is my chance. If I mess this up he'll probably kill me.

I'm trapped. I just wish the deciding factor wasn't magic. I have to show him something though. Alternatively, I could punch him and escape, but I don't think it'd end well for me. He looks like the type that could kill you from his grave.

I don't have magic. I only have one thing, and that's my useless bubbles. I don't want to use them, but I don't have anything else. Punching things is too pedestrian to be magical.

My bubbles aren't magic, my intuition tells me. Maybe I'll make them as flashy as I can, and that will be enough?

This man doesn't sound like he knows much about magic either, so maybe he won't notice.

“A-any magic is fine?” I ask.

“Of course, I'd be honored no matter what you showed me.” he says, once again with a dry voice. 

Nodding my head in affirmation, I just summon as many bubbles as I can around me. I make them form the same cloth-like mesh and brought them closer to my body. It's what I had in mind for a prototype disguise. Thousands of small bubbles gather and then hang around my body. I think the effect is not bad for a first attempt, except the fact that the bubbles distort my vision as well.

After clearing the bubbles around my eyes, I observe my audience.

Sav's jaw is open and his eyes are wide. The other guards except for Lady Guard have similar reactions.

Lady Guard isn't even looking. She's probably calculating yearly taxes behind that professional face.

What about the City Planner?

“What a wonderful display of magic.” he says, voice still as dry as ever. “If I may be so forward, I have a task that I would greatly appreciate your help with. I was hoping you could help me deal with some trees.”

Oh. That's bad.

This man is scary indeed. Is he psychic? Is he probing my memories right now?

No, it might be possible in a magical world, but I think that it's unlikely.

…

But it makes me wonder.

How does he know my favorite hobby?

---