“Alex, I need you to man the Swords and Sorcery department today,” Dakota said, her eyes never leaving her clipboard.
Alex was halfway through tugging on his employee vest when she came up behind him. With one arm still caught in a hole, he turned on his heel to face her. “I don’t work Swords and Sorcery,” he reminded her, grunting has he finally tugged his arm through the hole. He quickly buttoned up the vest and made his name tag was on full display beneath the MallMart logo. “I have that whole trauma thing with magic? There’s literally a letter from my doctor in my employee file and—”
“Don’t argue with me, Alex. I really don’t need that right now,” Dakota warned, finally looking up from her clipboard. She casually clicked the pen in her other hand and raised an eyebrow, the unspoken threat hanging in the air between them.
Alex chewed his lipto avoid complaining. He knew he should just do it, Dakota wouldn’t leave him be until he caved, but this was the one thing he wanted to avoid above all others…
“Look, the usual people called in sick and nobody’s answering my calls. We can’t not have somebody man the station, especially since we just got the new inventory shipment in,” Dakota continued, scribbling a quick note down on her paper. “It’ll be fine. Just stock and price the inventory, help people who come by needing weapons and stuff. Easy peasy. The pallet is over in the loading bay.”
Before Alex could even think to protest any further, Dakota had already turned tail and marched off. At the other end of the green-and-white hall, she bumped the doors leading back out onto the store floor and was slipped through them.
Alex stared after her for a few more seconds, rubbing a hand over his face in a mixture of exhaustion and annoyance. “It’s just one shift,” he muttered to himself. “Just… one eight hour shift. How bad could it possibly be?”
Resigned to his fate, Alex double checked his uniform to make sure he was presentable. Black t-shirt with no skulls or band logos? Check. Violently green vest? Check check. Weird crystal necklace?
Alex winced as he realized the necklace had fallen out from under his shirt. “Sorry, bud,” he whispered to it. “You know I’m not supposed to have jewelry out on the store floor.”
The crystal was blue-green in color and cool against his skin. It always seemed to be cool, no matter how much Alex held it in his grip. It wasn’t big, either, maybe about as long as his thumb and twice as wide, so he didn’t quite under how it remained such an even temperature. Its heat resistant properties and pretty color weren’t the reason he held onto it, though.
“Wish you were here, man,” Alex muttered, tucking the stone under his shirt as he proceeded around a corner to the loading bay. “At least then I’d have someone to suffer with…”
The last piece of his uniform were the black fingerless gloves he tugged into place over his hands. To most onlookers, they appeared serve no other purpose than protecting his hands while lifting heavy objects. However, that was only a fraction of the truth. A poorly-drawn status tattoo on the back of his left hand was hastily concealed as he tugged the gloves on.
It wasn’t that he was ashamed of having it, but rather he didn’t need the trouble it would bring if the wrong people caught wind of it. It was a bootleg status tattoo, the kind that could barely tell a person how much mana they had, let alone more pertinent information. If somebody higher level than him caught sight of the tattoo… Well, Alex didn’t want to think about it.
Just like Dakota had said, there was a pallet of boxes waiting for him as he got to the loading bay. He diligently grabbed the pallet truck, slipped it into place under the cardboard boxes, and got to work dragging the heavy stack of merchandise away. As he stepped into MallMart proper, he was momentarily blinded by fluorescent lights and bright green signs. On sale now, ward powder, fifty percent off! Protect your home and your wallet! One sign read. Dragon-bone dog treats, three for the price of one! Another professed, with a picture of a chihuahua chewing on a femur larger than its whole body.
A few customers browsed the shelves as Alex passed, but none paid him much mind. That was how he liked it. Keep your head down, appear too busy to talk, he reminded himself, the words almost a mantra. He’d been working at MallMart for years, and it was habit to make himself too busy to help anyone.
As Alex rounded a corner, he found himself before the one section of the store he’d been avoiding for ages: Swords and Sorcery. It reminded him of the paint station in hardware, or the cash register over in electronics. There were shelves covered in swords, staffs, bows, and other such items of violence. A cash register was located between two of the larger shelves, where he would be expected to stand once the boxes were dealt with.
Alex’s pulse quickened at the sight of the station. The staffs with the glowing crystals atop them were particularly hard for him to look at the. Smell didn’t help matters, either. Aether, rich and powerful, hung thick in the air around the weapons. The staffs let off so much of the stuff they practically turned the air blue.
“It’s just one shift,” he reminded himself, forcing his gaze away from the shelves. He gently lowered the pallet truck handle to the ground and grabbed a scanner gun from the cashier desk. A quick scan of one of the boxes told him everything he needed to know about the inventory he’d be stocking.
“EdgeZ Straight Zword,” Alex muttered, cringing at the brand name and description.
Looking up from where he stood, he quickly found the shelf where these weapons belonged. He cringed again as he noticed it was covered in edgy black and red branding icons. Every weapon on the shelf had black faux carbon-fiber grips with bright red accents. The swords had painted black blades with bright white edges, while the bows had bright red strings.
“Nobody would ever be caught dead actually using these, right?” Alex muttered, using his pocket box cutter to slice the tape off his cardboard victim. Unlike most merchandise that could be found at MallMart, such as food or clothing, the weapons didn’t have barcodes on them that could be scanned. A quick glance at the cash register and Alex noticed a laminated sheet with bar codes on it and pictures of each weapon.
Right next to the list of bar codes were the rules of running the station.
Rule 1: no persons under eighteen is permitted to purchase a weapon under penalty of law.
Rule 2: employees are not to demonstrate the use of weapons under any circumstance.
Rule 3: always upsell the arrows when selling bows.
Alex tore himself away from the rules and extracted three swords from the box. He quickly slipped them onto the rack, next to their fellows, and created a steady row of swords.
Then he noticed that there were three different sizes of weapons and had to bite back a groan. The shelves weren’t properly ordered. Dakota would certainly yell at him if he didn’t make them look presentable, even though he found them this way.
“Dammit,” he muttered, quickly pulling off every sword on the shelf and setting them down in the box with the new weapons. Metal and plastic clattered loudly together, and soon enough the shelf was bare.
In the interest of making it easy on himself, Alex started with small swords on the left and long swords on the right, and slowly inched towards the middle. He’d finally finished the first box, when he heard the one sound that every retail worker dreaded more than anything.
“Excuse me,” a woman said from directly behind him.
Alex felt ice flood his veins and his stomach leap into his throat. Slowly, he forced a smile to his face, and turned around. He was careful to take a step to the side as he went, lest he accidentally bump her and trigger a human-shaped land mine.
The woman standing before him was barely shoulder high, but she radiated the kind of energy that screamed if you make me mad it will be everyone’s problem. Her purple-streaked hair was cut short on one side and long on the other, and she wore over-sized sunglasses. She had a sour expression on her face, and her arms were crossed over her white Live, Laugh, Love t-shirt. The very obvious status tattoo could be seen on her left hand, and Alex felt his fear burble up again as he quickly took it in.
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Level eight, he thought. He couldn’t quite make out the details about her other information, but the number inside the triangle was unmistakable.
“How can I help you, ma’am?” Alex said, forcing out his customer service voice. He stood up straight, kept his hands at his side, and plastered a smile on his face. His mind so instantly fell into the MallMart indoctrination that, to any casual observer, it might have seemed Alex was possessed by the spirit of retail.
“About time,” the woman snapped. “I’ve been waiting for service for thirty minutes! This is unacceptable.”
Alex blinked rapidly, but held his tongue. He hadn’t been at the station for ten minutes, let alone thirty. Still, it wouldn’t pay to argue with a customer.
“I’m terribly sorry about the inconvenience, ma’am. How can I be of service to you?”
“I’m trying to purchase my son’s first weapon,” the woman said, her tone suddenly going bubbly and cheerful. “He’s gifted, you see. Well, I’m gifted too, in case you couldn’t tell,” she added, flourishing the tattoo on her hand. “Anyway, my son is going to be an adventurer and as such he needs weapons.”
Alex looked around rapidly and noticed a blond-haired kid standing near the pallet, holding one of the medium-sized EdgeZ swords. The blade glowed softly red in acknowledgment of his magical superiority. Like his mother, he had purple streaks in his hair. He didn’t have a tattoo on his hand, so Alex had to assume he wasn’t eighteen yet. If he had to hazard a guess, the kid couldn’t be older than twelve, maybe thirteen.
“Mom, I want this one!” The kid said, flourishing with the weapon in question. He gave it a few test swings, and Alex flinched as he sent a display of bows clattering to the floor. “It’s only two-hundred dollars!”
“No, honey. We’re getting you a Durandal brand weapon.”
“But mooooom,” the brat whined.
“If you want that one, you have to buy it with your own money! You have money from your last birthday.”
Oh boy. “Ma’am, I would be happy to assist you in purchasing a weapon. However, I must inform you that we cannot legally sell weapons to minors.”
The woman’s face abruptly shifted into a visage that would haunt Alex’s nightmares for years to come.
“Ex-CUSE me?” She roared. “Did you just say you won’t sell me weapons?”
“No, ma’am, I am simply informing you that there are laws about how old a person needs to be before they can purchase a weapon,” Alex stammered, hoping to deescalate the situation. Stupid, stupid, why did I mention the rule? Too late now…
“You’re being extremely rude! My son is an ANGEL and he’s going to be a HERO some day!” the woman snapped, waggling a finger at Alex’s chin. “Not like you. He’s gifted, and he’s going to use his power to help people!”
“I’m gonna be an adventurer!” the kid piped up, in a voice that was far too high pitched to be pubescent.
“Just because you’re jealous of us doesn’t mean you get to dictate who gets access to weapons,” the woman continued. “I say that he's old enough to have one. Don't you know the customer is ALWAYS right?!”
“Ma’am, all I said was I can’t sell weapons to minors.” The obvious loophole to the rule was right there, and the fact the woman wasn’t picking up on it struck him as very concerning.
“Do you know who I am!?” The woman shouted. “I am Karen Walker!” She emphasized her last name, as though it was something worth knowing.
Alex blinked lamely. “Who?”
“My husband is David Walker? The hero!?”
Alex shook his head and shrugged.
Karen’s eyes twitched furiously beneath her sunglasses. “Come on, Skyler,” she growled, stomping over to her son and grabbing him by the wrist. “We’re leaving.”
Alex held back another cringe as Karen and her son stormed off. Skyler had yet to put the sword back in the box, and Alex secretly hoped that maybe they would get stopped at the front door for stealing it.
“Wow, she’s a piece of work,” a voice said from beside Alex.
For the second time that day—and most certainly not the last—Alex forced his customer service mask into place and turned to face the speaker. Instead of a snooty woman, there was a man just a few inches shorter than him, shaking his head in disapproval at the display. He was dressed in perfectly normal street clothes, but wore a leather vest over them, as well as other pieces of leather armor strapped over his thighs and forearms. Hanging from his hip was a razer thin sword, a professionally made piece that made the EdgeZ weapons look like the cheap trash they secretly were.
Most shocking of all was tattoo on the back of his hand. Alex got a good look at it as it rested on the pommel of his sword.
Level thirty-seven! Alex’s eyes practically bulged. He never even seen anyone with a level that high before! This guy was the real deal, a bonafide adventurer! “H-how can I help you, sir?” Alex stammered, forcing his attention away from the tattoo.
The adventurer chuckled and carefully plucked one of the EdgeZ swords off the shelf. He tested the weight of it in his hand and sneered at the balance, before slipping it back into place. “I was just browsing, really, but now I’m kind of interested. Do you have anything better than this crummy trash?”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t know. I’m just filling in for someone else, today,” Alex laughed.
The adventurer smirked and nodded. “Good on you. We can’t all be heroes; some people must be shop keepers too. Good on you for accepting that you’re an NPC.”
Alex’s skin still crawled whenever he was called NPC, or non-powered citizen. He didn’t argue, of course, the customer is always right and all, but his tattoo itched at the notion. He had power, but it's not like he could afford to properly train it.
“Anyway, buddy,” the adventurer said, interrupting Alex's stewing thoughts, “if you want some advice, don’t sell people these crappy EdgeZ brand weapons. Durandal brand weapons are a lot less fancy to look at, but they’ll last a lot longer.”
As if to prove his point, the adventurer marched down to the end of the aisle and plucked a sword off the shelf. Unlike the EdgeZ weapon, this one was plain. It had a simple cross guard, and a straight steel blade that rang as it was pulled from the sheath. The adventurer tested the weapon’s balance and nodded in approval.
“Simple is always better,” he explained, sheathing the weapon again. “I’ll take two,” he added, grabbing a second weapon off the shelf.
Alex didn’t argue with the adventurer as he took position behind the cash register. He quickly scanned the last of bar codes and located the section for Durandal weapons. Each sword cost a whopping eighty dollars a pop, which put them in the cheap end of things but still a far cry more affordable than professionally made weapons.
“I’ve got a couple trainees that’ll be tailing me, fresh out of college,” the adventurer explained, as he reached into his wallet and pulled out a gold-plated credit card. “These are their graduation presents.”
Alex grunted in approval as he punched some buttons on the cash register, then nodded for the adventurer to swipe his card.
“Don’t look now, buddy, but Karen’s back,” the adventurer whispered, as Alex slipped the two sheathed weapons into a plastic bag and handed the man his receipt.
As the weapons left his hand, Alex looked up to see the furious woman—still dragging her son by the wrist—stomping over with Dakota in tow. Alex cringed as he saw his manager, and knew then and there that he was about to get in so much trouble.
“That’s him!” Karen shouted, jabbing a finger at Alex
“You have a nice day, sir,” Alex squeaked, the adventurer already moving to avoid the storm.
“That’s the man who refused to sell me weapons for my darling boy!” Karen screeched. “And yet he happily sold that nobody weapons. My husband is David Walker, the hero! You should be giving us a discount!”
Alex flinched as Dakota’s eyes landed on him. Her eyes were hard and tired, like she really didn’t want to deal with this today. Alex knew she’d much rather be literally anywhere else, and he felt much the same.
“Alex, please sell this nice woman whatever she wants,” Dakota said through clenched teeth.
Alex nodded vigorously, ready to do whatever it took to appease the infuriated Karen.
“Oh no, that’s not enough! I want a discount!” Karen snapped, wheeling on Dakota.
Alex felt the tingle in his fingers intensify, and his eyes widened as Karen’s purple-streaked hair started to whip in a wind that nobody could feel. Stray strands stood up on end.
“Of course, Alex will be happy to give you his employee discount,” Dakota said quickly. “Right, Alex?”
“Naturally,” Alex grumbled, his own jaw tight.
“I don’t want his discount! I want a proper discount, and I want to be treated like I deserve!” Karen yelled. “This treatment is unacceptable! My son is gifted and he’s going to be a HERO like his father, and this is how you treat us!?”
“Ma’am, what more could we do to make this right for you?” Dakota asked, her patience clearly wearing thin.
“I want him fired,” Karen said, wheeling on Alex and shaking a finger in his face. “He’s disrespectful and rude and he made my poor boy CRY!”
Alex frowned and glanced down at Karen’s son. Skyler looked more embarrassed than sad, but as if on cue he started wiping his eyes and sobbing. “All I wanted was a s-s-sword,” he said, really laying on the crocodile tears.
Alex looked pleadingly up at Dakota. She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and shook her head.
“Jeeze, what a bitch.”
Alex’s eyes widened in horror as the words hit his ears, and Karen whirled on him with unbridled fury. He hadn’t said anything, but he’d heard the words as clear as day. It sure sounded like it had come from him, but he hadn’t moved his mouth. Sure, he’d been thinking it, but...
“How DARE you!?” Karen screeched, her eyes crackling with purple energy.
That was all the warning Alex got before lightning shot from Karen’s outstretched hand and flew right for him.
When it struck, Alex was blown backward. He flew several feet through the air, before crashing into a barrel of arrows. Wooden and plastic bundles of projectiles spilled everywhere as Alex splayed out on the ground, twitching and breathing quickly. The air was hot and stank of ozone, but he was shocked to find that he was unharmed.
He looked down at his chest, expecting to see a smoldering hole in his flesh. His shirt and vest were burned clean through, but his chest was otherwise unmarred. The blue-green rock he always wore around his neck sat against his bare skin, warm to the touch and glowing faintly.
“What... just happened?”