“MOST ‘NECESSARY EVILS’ ARE FAR MORE EVIL THAN NECESSARY.”

– RICHARD BRANSON

            On my birthday, Fate came to me upon my death. They wanted to make a deal with an otherwise damned soul. I have committed far too many evils to expect to expect an easy afterlife. I had already come to terms with my demons before they came.

            They wasted no time in offering a second chance at life in exchange for one simple thing. There was no wordy discussions or bargaining. It was a straight-forward proposition. I believed it was my chance to cleanse my karma and make amends. It seems fate had other plans.

            It was simple as they put it, all I need to do was be transported to a secondary world and kill all Saints; Saints are those few blessed by the gods with unimaginable power. The gods had interfered too much in the world and had started to unravel destiny, and this led to the weakening of Fate. Like how any deity would, they decided it would be better to cleanse the world and have the influence of the gods set back to null.

            While I couldn’t help but want to say that wouldn’t solve the problem since in several years it would need to be done again since the problem itself, the gods weren’t eliminated but who am I to argue with Fate. I could refuse but somehow the pressure from Fate at the time seemed to be a little heavy, so maybe it was best risking damning my soul more than take on the wrath of a deity.

            So with a deep bow, I had accepted the deal though I did have some questions. I had wanted to ask about a few things in preparation, but before I could, I was grabbed by fate and thrown. I later learned that the stars I was thrown at were countless worlds of existence. Luckily Fate had a good arm, and I made too the correct space. I can only shiver at what would have happened if they missed.

            So with this, we end up where we are now. Me, average height and a slim fellow of late thirties, with dull green eyes, and buzzed hair in earthen tones with rough facial hair, standing in the middle of field surrounded by a forest on three sides and a large hill to the front with no way seeing what is on the other side outside of climbing it. Somehow though the white robes of death that I was wearing had somehow become a rough gray material tunic and dark brown trousers with leather boots on my feet to complete the look. I kind of feel like one of those fellows that play dress up at those fairs. I forget what they're called, but anyway it felt more like a costume then clothes. I can only hope that I don’t know standout too much. I would curse Fate, but I feel that a tribulation might strike me. No telling what was in our little deal’s small print.

            I still don’t have a clue about this world. All I know is that I’ve been dumped here by fate and outside of the clothes on my body I have a small leather bag that has two straps that tie together on the front to keep it close. It would have been best if there was a water pouch or some food in it, but that seems to be too much to ask for. I get to be the proud owner of Beginner’s Magic: A Quick Guide to Become A Magician’s Apprentice by Nicholas Wood and Smoker’s Heart: In-Depth Guide to Smoker’s Magic Volume 1 by Bobine Clark. I have two books on starting a Las Vegas act and nothing to survive with the outside of eating the bag if I get desperate enough.

            With hope in my heart, I dig around the bag search every nook and cranny until I find a note in a small pocket inside of the flap. If it wasn’t for the fact I was so intensely searching I probably would have missed it though this is almost hidden pocket may have its uses later on. So almost invisible pocket in the useless bag is probably helpful; mental check made. Well, I might as well as see what the note says before I lose it.

“If you find this bag without an owner, please return to:

Fate at Cosmic Temple in the Southern Heavens.

Thank you for your cooperation.

~ F”

What the fu--?! I wonder if I can change my mission to killing Fate instead of Saints. I mean this seems to be a very reasonable choice. I mean I was pressured into becoming a killer for hire by them. I mean the Heavens can’t get mad at me for delivering justice. Yes, it would be justice. Maybe I would even get rewarded. Maybe I could become a G--!

Calm down, calm down; I started panting before I even realized. I started to cold sweat; I almost lost a few more screws then I have left. I guess I will consider this a lesson for the future. I mean Fate wouldn’t give me anything that’s useless, would they? To be honest, going along with the what I know which is that Fate selfishly wants to keep their power and kill Saints to do it I have no idea what Fate is really like. Dear lord, lords, gods, or whatever, I might have ended up making a deal with the devil. I can only pray that my soul rests easy and isn’t devoured.

Hold on I’m starting to drift off again. I feel like maybe death affected me a bit or maybe it’s a side effect of being brought back to life in a new world by Fate, but either way, I might have been a bit unhinged beforehand. I’m no professional, so I can’t probably diagnose myself as being batshit.

Before my thoughts begin to wander off tangent again, I might as well as read those books just in case. So I sit here with boredom droning in my ears as I read these two books. So it seems that magic is real and this is not a sideshow, and the optimal age to learn magic is between the ages of twelve and eighteen. So it can be safe to say that I won’t be Merlin. The one luck thing that can be taken is that magic at the early levels is easier to learn at later age, but the downside is that past a certain point you are in lesser words without hope in advancing with it being either a slim or non-existent chance being.

The Beginner’s Magic: A Quick Guide to Become A Magician’s Apprentice states that magic is the state of empowering the body with magicus, a form of energy present in all natural life of this world, Vetus. Magicus was gifted from the gods to show their favor to the first world. If one wishes to become good with magic, you need to circulate magicus through the five magical cores of the body: the altum in the head, the cor in the heart, the pentral in the abdomen, the imperium in the spine, and the spiritus which is split into two halves with one in each respective lung. There are multiple ways to circulate through these. The most important part is that your strength is ranked into how many times you can rotate your magicus through five magical cores with them being respectively: Magus’ Apprentice with three rotations, Magus with six rotations, Sophus with twelve rotations, Maior Sophus with twenty-four rotations, Sanctus with forty-eight, and finally Sanctus Supreme with ninety-six rotations. While the book doesn’t say it, I have come to memorize that it starts at three and then doubles each level.

The book goes into a bit more history of magic, but I lost interest and skimmed it briefly. And I mean BRIEFLY. So with book numero uno done, it’s time to move on to numero dos. I do apologize, but I have to find someways to keep myself entertained. So the second book was a great deal more interesting, so I’m pretty sure more than a day has passed, but who cares this book instead of being a basic reference book, I’m looking at you Beginner’s Magic, this goes into how to circulate magic and to perform spells. There are only three spells which are Smokescreen, Smoker’s Double, and Dragon’s Plume which technically are beginner’s spells apparently, but hel-, I mean heck that’s magic, MAGIC!!!

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What I found interesting is the fact that Smoker’s Magic uses a relic of some form to endow the magicus into then produce the spell, but it seems like ole’ Bobine even went through the trouble of attaching to the inside cover what she calls a Smoker’s Heart. A thin finger long white stone that acts like a cigarette without all the downsides, so I can keep old habits, hehe. I don’t know how old she is or what Bobine looks like, but as an ex-smoker, smoker, now smoker? Anyways, I don’t care she is an elderly woman, but I’ll marry her. So get prepared wrinkles this old boy is coming for ya. A hearty laugh bubbled out, and I’m pretty sure that if anyone saw me, they would think I’m a crackpot.  So with my new found precious treasure, the Smoker’s heart, I begin to practice magic.

I don’t care if I die before I finish, but I’m going to start right away at practicing magic. I got to make ole’ Bobine proud. It’s the least I can do to express my thanks. I sit cross-legged and begin practicing magic with a cloud of smoke billowing from me.

I can’t help but let out a sigh. In less than half of a day, I’m able to complete one rotation of Smoker’s Heart through the five points. So being old does count for something. I mean I don’t get the idea about it being harder later on, but what the heck I’ll go as far as I can. Now then with a dry mouth and a roaring stomach, I better find civilization. And once again we arrive at the point, clothes, a bag, and books, but they couldn’t give me food, water, or map. I think Fate might be trying to kill me. Getting rid of a witness, I bet that’s what it is. They want me to kill a few people, but in the end, I’ll die from my stupidity, and they’ll probably call it justice, the bastard.

Well anyways before my wanders, I better decide whether I need to go into the forest or trek up the big hill; as if to help me a distant roar bellows out from the woods. I might have completed one magic rotation, but I do not want fist fight a tiger so let's go to the hill. I mean despite the circumstances this place is rather calming and peaceful. A nice meadow of gently swaying grass and wildflowers dancing in the breeze surrounded for the most part by towering pines that cast deep shadows within their embrace. I can’t help feeling a bit pained for leaving such a nice place while making my way up this damn hill.

Maybe I’m just old and feeble, or I got lazy before I came here. But you can’t blame me because I entered early retirement before my death, so I was getting to be a sloth. If I knew I was going to be taking hikes on Fate’s orders, I might have kept up my training. After some time and a few curses at Fate, I make it to the top of this hill, and the first thing I see two hooded people in some brown road having what I can only guess is a heated argument probably a lover’s spat. The smaller of two slapped, the bigger one, so most definitely a lover’s spat. Shouts were coming from up the road and as if on cue the little hooded person through a bundle in the weeds on the side of the road before yanking the big one back onto the carriage before speeding away like they had hounds on their heels.

So like the person I am, I headed down to see what they threw, I mean even if it’s not important I could at least turn them in for littering and get a reward. So it’s a win-win either way for me. Thank Fate, that it's so much easier going down this blasted hill then going up. By the time I get down I’m a bit winded but not worse for wear. The bundle seems to be some gray blanket, and as the smart person, I am I grab a nearby stick and poke it with a stick. I mean if a famous someone can poke dangerous animals with a stick and have a tv show why can’t I do the same with someone’s garbage. As soon as I do it begins to move a little and making noises, dear lord I’ve done made it angry.

So with the little courage, I have that I can hopefully throw a snake faster than it can bite me, I carefully use my stick at a distance to unwrap the bundle. It wasn’t a snake; it’s a baby, I think. I mean it looks like a baby, well technically the little fat sucker looks like a dumpling, though what gives me doubt is the deep black eyes and the two little black obtrusions on its head that looks like two little obsidian stones poking out of its forehead at the hairline. I mean despite all that it’s a rather cute baby most definitely end up a beauty toppling nations when they're older. Speaking of which I pick up the baby-thing and unwrap its blanket. On its chunky frame is some little gray robe, dress thing that feels like the same material as my shirt though maybe a bit softer.

“Excuse me,” I say as I lift its robe. It’s a boy and dear lord, I don’t know who his father is but that man most definitely carrying a deadly weapon if this baby is any indication of how he is. I can’t help but feel that I will most definitely lose out when this kiddo gets older, and as if to add salt to the wounds the kid begins to giggle. Little bastard, so I straighten him up, and as I wrap him up, I notice that some things have changed. The little black hair on his head is now brown, his eyes are now the same dull green like mine, and he looks kind of like me. Whats most surprising is that even the little horns on his head are gone, and here I thought it looked kind of cool on this little lady-killer cuckoo. The brat kind of looks like me, but I can most definitely tell that this ain’t my kid. I’m almost eighty percent positive; the other twenty percent is that I have no clue what Fate might have done.

“Well ya little cuckoo bird, I guess since those other two don’t want ya I’ll take you in. But since I don’t know ya name, I’m just going to call you Malleus. Don’t worry it doesn’t many anything too bad, just hammer. You might not get now, but when you get as big as me, you’ll understand.” So now I’m hungry and thirsty, with a little kid who looks like me but isn’t mine., which I repeat that he is not mine. And before this old fella can catch a break, I see a cloud of dust stirring up as a group of five men in silver armor come kicking up a storm.

“Halt, hand over the child.” The youngest of the group yells out as he pulls his horse over to me. The young fellow’s armor seems a bit more expensive than the others, and he has a white cloak with golden trimmings and some weird symbols. Now that I think about it, those might be this place’s language. Shit, I’m going to have to learn it, because I don’t think I can bull-crap my way through that one. Well, I can’t throw the little cuckoo to the wolves now that he looks like me. It makes it feel like I’m giving up one of my own. I look down at Malleus, and the little bastard has what looks like an expectant look in his eye. If it weren’t for the fact that he only appears to be a few months old, I would most definitely swear he's an old fart in disguise, but given the fact he can change to look like me I can’t decline the idea.

But some strange part of me is too prideful to think that I peeked at an old man’s privates though if it’s true, I have room to gloat in front of the old man if he is pretending to be this kid.

“What ya talkin’ about? Like any father would hand their son over, do you want me to beat you in the head. I might not look it, but this old one can still pop you with magic.” Fate if you are listening let them not call me on bull-shit. Also the swords they have to appear to be well kept so let’s try to keep them clean if you can Fate because it would be kind of sad if this contractee died before helping you. You know, wink, wink, nudge, nudge. The young fellow that was so domineering before, actually had an expression like I’m bullying him. Hey, what’s this? Weren’t you the one that came in all domineering with your posse asking for my kid? Damn millennials!

“I’m sorry sir, I am Frederic Mannering, captain of the Royal Guard Border Division. I do apologize I had not known that you were a mage. We were chasing a pair of black arts worshipper who was carrying a daemon child, and as you know daemons along with the demi-humans and beast-kin are prohibited from stepping forth in the Great Singulari Empire. So if you do not mind sir, I would like to look at your child and verify that it is indeed not the child we are looking for.” The kid was polite so that I couldn’t hold it against him. So with shaking hands, I hope he didn’t notice I lift of Malleus for him to see. Luckily, Malleus still looked like me. Frederic looked at him and gave an endearing smile. He gave a single to the four men with him, and their posture relaxed. So it seems me and little cuckoo bird are safe.

Releasing the breath, I didn’t know I was holding I tell them, “I don’t know if they are who ya are looking for, but an old carriage barreled down the road up ahead,” I point towards the way the lover’s spat two from earlier headed and continue, “They were taking off like a bat out of hell.” The young man gave me a quizzical look before nodding his head, and after saying farewell and telling me that if I head the way that he came from I will reach the nearest town, he took off with his men. That Frederic isn’t too bad, and with that, I tie Malleus’s blanket into a sling place him in it.

“Well Malleus, I guess it’s you and me for now. Let’s get going.” So we head off to town, just a weary thirty-something-year-old man and his not his child that looks like him.