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Chapter 17 – Up and At'em.

Wil

The next morning.

Knock. Knock.

Mhmm. “I'm up.” I mutter into my pillow.

Knock-knock-knock-knock.

“Stop it already! I'm up, I'm up.” I whip off of my bed and shout at the door. It better not be Jelt. That man is so obnoxious.

Knock.

“I'M UP! GIVE ME A BLASTED SECOND” I yell.

Him knocking like that puts me in a sour mood. It reminds me too much of the past. It reminds me of the familiar knocks that still occasionally plague my dreams. It's too close to the steady knock Anilea used to bring me out of that nightmare of reality. I shuffle off my bed and reach to put my Ethul back on.

“I just have to get changed.” I reply to the door, Ethul in hand. I really don't like it's form fitting feature. It sounds nice but it feels weird to have a piece of clothing wrap itself around you.

Knock...

I swear if that is Jelt... I'm not going to need my Ethul on to have lethal intentions. I'll just kill him. Then he will be dead and there will never be knocking again.

Hmm. That response was too vicious.

My anger is high today.

…

Knock...

…

It's understandable. This knock knock knocking would be irritating for anyone, I think. It's a rational anger. I'm okay. Phew... It's bothersome to have to check to see if your emotions are justified every moment of the day.

Knock...

If he doesn't stop, I'll kill him.

Calm. Calm. Calm.

…

Knock?

…

Why did that knock sound like a question? Whatever, he can wait.

Whatever, be calm.

Calm.

I'll ignore it.

…

Before I put on my Ethul, I reach over to my rucksack and pull out the murky dark Blaguestone. I peer very carefully into it's depths and I see a slight change. It looks as though overnight the mana corruption wasn't as bad it was the previous night. I think that my mana resistance is rising with time. I want to have an amazing mana resistance one day, so I take the risk of taking off my Ethul every night to let my body adjust. It's dangerous, but I need to improve myself. Even at the cost of my life. This world is too vicious to let me have a pleasant stay without taking a little risk.

Thinking about some of the powerful humans I've seen so far, I walk back towards my bed to pick up the Ethul where I had dropped it.

Holding the Blaguestone in my hand causes the cloth of the Ethul to flutter away from it, trying to escape my hand.

Take that, magic robe.

It's annoying that I can't keep the Blaguestone in my robe, but since it's a relative to the anti-magical Darkstone, like with the manacles I can't mix it with magic. The robe wilts when I try to force it to happen.

Since I don't want to be the owner of a wilted robe, I drop the Blaguestone back in my rucksack and step into the Ehtul on the ground. It unfurls itself off the floor and begins to wrap around me, tightening itself as it goes.

I don't know who made the magic for the Ethuls or how the magic works, but if they had slipped up by the smallest margin, these Ethuls could kill the wearer with ease. They are, for most intents, indestructible. Having this one tighten around me always brings this thought to my mind.

Knock-knock-knock-knock.

Ethul equipped, I charge over and wrench the door open, ready to give Jelt a piece of my mind.

“Who do you think you are, knocking on my door nonst-” I complain, before stopping mid-sentence.

Anilea is standing there with her arm extended ready to knock again. She is standing with a tiny angle on her lips that I've come to recognize as a sign of professional amusement.

I thought the knocking had sounded familiar. Blast Jelt for confusing me. Blast Anilea and her strange sense of humor.

“A job.” she replies curt as ever, after letting her joke set in.

Knock, knock. Who's there? Jelt? No, Anilea.

The joke is on me.

Having delivered her punchline, she turns around and walks away.

---

Wil

Scrambling along.

We're heading back to the tavern. It's a perfect spot for a meeting of misfits. Not like we're misfits, but we're a motley crew. Not that everyone is motley per se. Rather it's me in my robe.

Err... mottled, that is.

I'm back to my bad habit again. I'm a bit down that Anilea chewed me out. Apparently I was two hours late to meet her to discuss work. We had talked about it before my last hunt, which was weeks ago. It had slipped my mind.

I miss alarm clocks.

After lecturing me on how to behave like a normal person, not a flippant Mage, for the umpteenth time, she finally relented after I mentioned we might be late to meet the others. Noticing how correct I was, she started rushing off to the meeting, me along with her.

“C'mon, what is it about?” I question her.

“I'm only explaining it once.” she chides, not even stopping to look at me.

It's fair, I've asked her the same question many times in a row. I can't help it. I'm bored that she is taking so long, even at her fair speed. I have to push myself not to leap through the streets, so by comparison I'm scrambling to keep as slow as possible.

She has rebuked me many times that showing off my speed will only bring me ire, and inconvenience people on the street.

It's the typical mode of thinking for a guard, after all. Unlike her, I love speeding along. It's the one thing I show off. Everything else is ever so secret. It's for a good cause of not landing me dead or trapped when someone thinks I can do magic without tools or even worse, they see underneath my cloak that I'm wearing an Ethul. It's at times like these when I feel stifled my own self imposed limitations.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Stop that.” she growls at me with a firm set to her lips. She's mad.

I can see her face because I'm running backwards in front of her right now.

There aren't many stares at all, most of the people in this part of the Lower City are used to me by now. I make sure to show off my speed to deflect suspicions of my Magehood.

“I'm improving my public image.” I mention to her, with a casual blind backflip over a fruit-stand on the side of the street.

My landing is perfect, and I get a small ovation from a few children nearby.

Thank you, thank you.

I bow.

Maybe I should take up performing? A circus would be fun. I'd fit right in.

“Wil, stop that.” she has slowed to look at me in the eyes.

Uh oh. She uses my name when she's actually mad.

I realize I've been acting strange again. Maybe I didn't wait long enough for the mana corruption to wear off? I can't tell her that though, she'd be horrified.

“Yes. Sorry. I'll stop.” I offer.

I've become proficient in controlling myself at times like these.

I'm walking normally by the time we reach the tavern.

---

A Motley Crew.

At everyone's favorite tavern.

“What do you mean it's in Athem?” Jelt complains, being annoying as usual.

Even Anilea, the most reserved person I know, looks like she wants to punch Jelt in the face.

Do it, Anilea, I'm secretly rooting for you.

“Jelt, shut up or I'll punch you, hahaha.” Voxol flat out says with laugh what everyone is thinking.

Jelt looks like he might keep talking but the grin on Voxol's face is hard to read.

Anilea ignores Jelt and continues explaining to our renowned expedition leaders, the twins Nem and Ilorem. They are doing their usual creepy thing by staring at her identically. Without blinking.

And people think I'm weird?

I can't even tell what gender they are. I'm afraid to ask anyone except Voxol, the smiling oaf, but I haven't found the time to bring it up to him. He is always quick to leave when the fighting is over. I think he'd tell me about them in great detail, he's not discrete at all. I mostly want to know what is up with their appearances, or if they're even human. They have smooth pale faces, silky white hair and delicate features. Blast, I can't even tell them apart most of the time.

“... path has opened up so it shouldn't be hard to take care of, Athem needs the support due to the war with Okam recently. The Planner has negotiated sending expedition teams to help for an amazing price.” I tear my eyes away from the twins mesmerizing faces to here the tail end of Anilea's explanation.

Athem would be the first other city for me to visit, so of course I'm excited. I've told Anilea I've had an isolated life, which isn't quite a lie, so she must have known that I'd be excited to go. It makes sense why she was so insistent on getting me to come earlier. I have to make sure to thank her later.

“The price could be amazing, but the city...” Owen voices a valid concern.

I'd like to visit Athem too, but the city never shook off the Heramitic culture from it's founders, like Gol-ta has. It's painful to get anything done with that many of them around. I'm still surprised that the Planner has let Gol keep it's Heramitic name considering his obsession with efficiency and reputation.

“What do you mean!?” Jelt says, being the only Heramite in amongst the regulars of this expedition team. His voice is laden with accusation.

“...it's far.” Owen is a good man, but a quiet one. He won't start a fight, verbal or otherwise, unless he has to. He provides this peace offering and looks away.

Sure he's nice, by why is he even at this meeting if he can't stand up for himself? It's meant for the influential regulars of our expedition team. The twins are the only ones that are really needed because of their renown, but they have an open policy about leadership. They prefer gathering together good members, pay them well enough to keep them on the team, and let the important members take part of discussions like these.

I'm obviously not influential, so I try to say as little as possible. I'm only here in the first place because of Anilea. She's a great resource for finding work, and since she's the one who introduced me, I've quickly become part of the inner circle. It's nepotism at it's finest.

I try to not be too hard on myself. The twins have told me many times that the death rate of the expeditions has gone down drastically since I joined. They might be lenient on leadership, but I doubt they'd let me be here if that wasn't at least somewhat true.

“How much for the job?” I ask, since everyone else is trying to avoid the awkward situation of telling Jelt how they want to avoid his ilk. We can't afford to lose him, after all. Anilea isn't the pushy type when it comes to money, so I figure I'd help to prompt her.

Anilea shoots me a thankful look. It's a two millimeter bob of her head. I've got my Anileaisms memorized.

“1000 Gold.”

…

Everyone is in shock.

That amount is ridiculous.

…

“I'll do it.” “Sounds reasonable” “I think we can manage it” Everyone is responding at once while keeping their eyes fixed on the twins.

The twins look to be deliberating. They both had tilted their heads to the side to think in tandem.

…

“We'll.” Nem says.

“Take it.” Ilorem says.

…

Weird.

…

Anyway, they approve, so let's get at'em.

I mean …

Let's get our greedy selves to Athem.

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