I wanted to laugh at the sight of Shiny crashing to the ground.

Actually, I did laugh.

Shiny didn’t take that too well I realized as my danger sense shot a burst of adrenaline directly into me. I swayed like a willow dodging the concussive force of wind that popped like a small explosion where my face was.

Unlike a willow, I wasn’t rooted to the ground and fell as I saw Liz react. She kicked a bolt of mana forward slamming it into Shiny’s side hard enough to lift the woman off the ground. She crashed less than a second later, only going up a bit with a series of coughs and hacks.

Knowing Liz she aimed for the ribs; she always said someone who can’t breathe can’t fight.

I scrambled to my feet. I shot a warning to Liz, “Careful, don’t rough her up too bad if you don’t want Martha on your ass. She has to be able to work within the week.”

Liz let out a gruff grunt before dragging Shiny by her shirt. I heard the fabric strain, the sound of it stretching as the threads embedded inside ripped and lengthened. Shiny’s name now took over her entire head as a thin sheen of sweat as she forced shallow breaths.

Liz released her left hand's grip and slapped Shiny across the face.

The next second she was literally lifted off her feet as wind howled and slammed into her. She flew through the alley and skidded along several feet. She forced herself to her feet, her jeans torn up and a chuck of her forearm skinned bloody.

Shiny had landed on her feet donning a grimace imbued with malice. I felt my mind seize again; I dashed forward this time, panic giving way to irritation.

I could feel my heart rate accelerate to a precipice as I raced into Shiny’s range. I forced my mana into the hole scribed upon my soul, nourishing it and forcing my mind to bear the inscription’s might in full.

I knew immediately she was aiming for my head, it was a kill shot, one that would slam my head into one of the concrete walls lining the alley. My head rang with tales of trauma and a quick death. The wind was hostile, I felt the hair on my skin stand on edge as anxiety from being surrounded by a domain of everpresent whispering threats of death and simplistic brutalism.

I threw myself into a sidestep, almost stumbling as a concussive blast once again exploded where I was a moment before. I managed to shuffle forward and twist back into a sprint, my feet showing far more agility than I expected from myself.

The world sang. The wind laughed, and my body shuttered as it listened and expected to be battered by an expression of the wind’s dominion. I once again threw myself to the side, feeling the brunt of the burden melt out of my mind, a hollow simulacrum of the promised danger now whispered at me. I felt the blast skim past me, and felt a dull pain in my arm as I was sent spinning into the wall next to me. A part of me waited for another bolt to hit its mark this time.

It never came; instead, a visible bolt of mana rocketed past me and slammed into Shiny’s stomach, ripping her feet out from under her as she fell to the ground on her back.

I heard her sputtering for air, a sickly pained wheezing all she could force out.

Liz walked up, her arm stripped of its skin where she skidded across concrete.

“Fucking psychopath,” she grumbled.

We walked past Shiny, “You really should watch how you treat people in the future,” I told her as she fought to catch her breath.

We rounded out of the alley and caught some kids looking, startled by the commotion. We just kept moving, and they went back to playing their curiosity only somewhat incited by the events.

________________________________

When we got back to our place I shot Martha a text with a summary of what happened between Shiny and us. We did some basic nursing for the wounds we had, bandaging some of the scrapes Liz had and icing the bruise on my arm.

"Those are the fuckwits you deal with?" She said as I dabbed at her arm. I watched as her jaw flexed while I worked on disinfecting her arm.

"Yeah, just about. You handled that the right way by the way. Some people need a kick in the teeth— or ribs in this case to realize they can't walk all over you. People like Shiny."

"Or people like Martha's son. She seems to attract those types," Liz said before a small hiss came out of her mouth.

"Easy to corral, if you know how. Also, don't you have a fight tonight?"

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

She snorted, "Yeah I'm counting on it, the healing magic should sort this right out," she said as she pointed to her wrapped arm.

Huh. Smart.

______________________________________________________________

A couple of days passed as Liz and I worked on recovering from our scuffle and trained a bit more. Her arm was mostly healed but had an odd pink hue from the healing magic repairing all of the skin. She told me it would be gone in a few days.

During that period, I had a long call with Martha about our “behavior” and the issues we had with Patricia, better known as Shiny.

Martha was worried about our team skills she said and how well we worked with others and a bunch of other things that were phoned in concerns. I had a feeling that Patricia was on the other end of the call complaining. Not much came of it but me giving empty platitudes and Liz trying not to laugh while listening in as if she wasn’t partially responsible for this.

Martha luckily didn’t actually seem too bothered, otherwise, it would come out of the pay for the job. Shiny’s immaturity probably caused her enough problems that she’d overlook

Speaking of that job, I looked over at the set of gear that I had gotten together. A couple of masks, a backpack, some duct tape, a bit of rope, a pocket knife, a lockpick, and some non-distinct sweats. We were paying the good doctor another visit in a couple of hours and this is the prep we had. I would usually prep more, but the versatility that Liz’s mana arts had was enough to cut tools such as a crowbar and blunt weapons. I was hesitant to bring my gun. I still had not tossed it, and I would rather have it on me than toss it right now, at least until I had something better. Besides, that would be a massive escalator, I hoped—maybe naively—that I wouldn’t need to use it.

I decided not to bring it.

I spent a while doing my meditation as Liz did some light exercises before we headed out. Liz needed to make sure her body was in good condition, I needed to make sure that my soul was.

We delegated the tasks for our little mission; I was in charge of the general mission strategy, having far more experience breaking and entering. Liz was our muscle and she’d take charge of tactics if things came to knocking heads.

Plan was simple: beat the hells out of that doctor then take his computer or phone. We’d use that to read all of his chat logs with the person he gave those kids to and try to set up another meeting. From there, we beat the kids' location out of them, and save the kids.

It was a child’s plan to be honest, a combination of Liz’s heroic naivete and my bitter hope to live in a better place— a better world. We might not control everything but this was something we could try to change.

I felt my stomach churn and let out a bitter laugh. I knew if it wasn’t for Liz acting like a catalyst I would just ignore it. I’d spit the sour taste out my mouth and let an injustice I knew about and could change just happen in the name of survival—no—convenience.

I let a sigh out, trying to force away the disdain I felt for myself. I wanted to slap myself; I was still ignoring these unpleasant feelings but in this case, it would have to wait.

Liz finished her exercises and took a shower as I finished my meditation, feeling a bit more connected to my soul. I could feel the haze of my inscription now. Before, I could only tell it was there, like a shadow across the room in a dark room. Now I could sometimes make out the edges when I focused on probing my soul with my mana. It was strange still though the whole process was like trying to feel a slight change in texture with a numb limb. Over time the “limb” has woken up more and more but I could still only just barely process information using it.

Using the inscription helped a lot but that would drain my mana almost instantly. I still struggled to stop it, it was like unflexing a cramped muscle through will alone.

I was able to start telling how much mana I had in the loosest sense as well, though “Full,” “Empty,” and “Somewhere in between,” was all I really figured out.

Liz said I was having good progress that should continue for the next few months. Apparently similar to strength-building, the soul had newbie gains.

I should make a lot of progress in my first year or so but it will eventually slow down and become more difficult to progress the longer I train it barring exceptional circumstances.

Liz’s training had me taking leaps and strides in all things combat. If she failed doing mana arts she would have a future as a coach for sure. I was planning on going back to that ring she had taken me to some time and trying things out again. I had a feeling I would do better this time and nothing is better training than live practice.

Liz walked out of the shower wrapped in a towel, “Hey, get ready to go, I wanna head out as soon as I get dressed,” she said.

I sighed and grabbed my pair of sweats as Liz grabbed her sweatsuit and went to change in the bedroom.

Within minutes both of us were ready to head out. I threw the masks into the bag alongside duct tape and rope. I put my lockpicks in my other pocket and then gave Liz the ready.

“Alright, time to deal with a scumbag,” I said.

“Let’s try to find some missing kids,” She responded her voice tight with anger.

The two of us left our apartment and retraced the route we took with Shiny several days ago. It took a while before we found just a block away from a familiar clinic.

We both walked around to the side of the building to the metal door. Donning the masks as we made our way into the alley, I pulled out the lockpick and started working on the door.

Years of practice only slightly dulled by rust meant the lock quietly clicked open. I went to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

I looked over to Liz, “The door is stuck, it won’t budge.”

She snorted, “‘Struck,’ sure,” she said as she placed her hand on my chest pushing me away from it. I stepped back, giving her space to work.

I watched as she tried shoving the door normally, at first testing how “stuck” it was. After a few moments of evaluating, she placed her palm along the door near the door knob. The next moment, I heard a metallic bang ring out as the door blew open. I heard a crash on the other side as the door finally moved.

Ah, there was something placed in front of the door, something extremely heavy from the sound of it.

Liz shoved the door open, opening the familiar hallway with a massive wooden bookshelf blocking parts of it awkwardly crammed in the hallway.

“You first,” she said. I shuffled my way inside.