I sit in the cold alley cursing and mumbling all while clumsily fumbling with my face. "That stupid man I was trying to help! And what does he do; he sucker punches me! Those two deserve each other." Another sharp jolt of pain causes me to wince and drop my prosthetic nose. I pick it up and try to reapply it all while continuing my tirade, " That mercenary company will hear from my mom, their business practices are illegal and ill-advised."

A pat on my shoulder ends my grumbling Hazlee stands behind me with an empathetic expression. "Edmund, if I knew that that girl would get under your skin I'd've hired her years ago." He half-joked, "But tell me what really was the issue, both your sister and I have needled you worse than that."

Silence falls between us as he gives me time to mull over my answer. "I am frustrated, I'm supposed to be a team with these two and I get stuck with a solo act and a lame man. I don't like feeling out of control." Hazlee doesn't answer but just waits this usually means he knows something that I don't. " I don't think that's all. That rationale is just a spark. I know what angers you well, how else am I supposed to motivate you?" I give Hazlee a withering look. Unbothered he continues, "The two times I have seen you the angriest are when you were younger and you found some kids abusing a cat. And when I hired some high-ranking adventures to capture you." Hazlee chuckles at his memory to my chagrin, "Let this old shepherd guide you... You hate injustice, the disregard for Asher's life dispute his injuries and disabilities infuriates you. You lashed out at Sonja for putting him into that position. You also have your dad in your blood, by that I mean. You blame Asher for being so weak, and you feel that strength is a personal responsibility. Just like your dad" He paused letting another grin crawl on his face, "Quite a contrary pairing, don't you think?"

I look at my master feeling bittersweet, having my faults pointed out hurts. It makes me angry and spiteful. But having someone who cares to know me better than I know myself; that knowledge fills my stomach with warmth like a fine spirit. I feel in my heart, that Master cares for me more than a student. "Master, will you ever tell me who you are, you're a powerful person with a seemingly infinite depth of knowledge. You also have ties to the underground as well." He gives me a sardonic smile, "No I don't think I will." With a deep inhale I change my voice to have a more mature and sarcastic edge, "For someone who talks so much you seem very secretive. 'Quite a contrary pairing, don't you think?'"

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The young man came back the next morning with less of a huff. It seems that he has recovered from my sucker punch. In fact, there is not any reddening or swelling. I know I broke something. I felt it shift. Then a chill shutters up my spine, it all makes sense his arrogant attitude and the immediate magical healing of his nose.

Imagine if you will, you're a young rich kid with nothing to do. No internet, no social media, just your thoughts and maybe a hobby. Now how does one get the adoration that young adults crave? Well, you could hire two mercenaries on the cheap and slaughter innocent animals. But oh no! One of the disposable mercenaries starts stealing the limelight and furthermore, he strikes you.

I'm dead.

I quickly try to use my new language skills to cover my faux pas.

I attempt to say that I apologize to the young aristocrat for my impulsive behavior and wish to pay recompense. I open my mouth and utter, "I'm Sorry for hit Prince, will give money for face."

Yes, this is the culmination of two weeks of constant work. Surely he will be swayed by my honeyed words.

Slowly I raise my eyes and look for his reaction. What greets me is not the condescending look I imagined. Instead, it's confusion mixed with a very subtle tinge of fear. I watch as his brain goes through some calculations, and then something clicks and he gives a genuine smile. Along with a friendly touch on my bicep.

I don't trust it. I know the smile is genuine but who knows what he is smiling about? It very well could be he is grinning about this thorn in his side being removed. I will have to keep an eye out.

With our differences seemingly settled, he sets a notebook down and starts drawing on it. Curiously I approach the opposite side of the paper. This man seemed to have drawn all three of us in a simple style along with some lines and the beetle we just fought. I think I know what this is: he is making a battlemap for our next fight. I see he plans on actually helping us instead of standing there.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

You know back on earth I was very against animal cruelty. It may be hubris but I feel that with human society and intellect, we have the duty to treat animals better than nature treats them. But what lies in front of me tests all my presumptions. It is a quadruped to start with, its cloven hooves are rough and irregular with punctures and pustules that make noise and leak liquid as it moves. Peeking through its matted fur is a scattering of hard cancerous growths and skin tags.

Its face is like that of an elk, and its horns seep a black sludge. All the while I see glowing green pathways spattering across the body, filling each growth with a magical pulse.

I look it in its eyes and yell.

The creature replies in kind, its mouth opening larger and larger. Its lower jaw almost touches the floor. What I thought was a neck was just more jaw, more teeth. An inconceivably large hole opens before me as the sound of a trumpet bellows from its abdominal cavity.

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With a large bellow, the creature opens his mouth and Charges Asher.

I attempt to quickly flank to the side but my large sword slows me down. It strikes at a sharp angle and slides off, the creature's blemish-ridden hide unmarred by my attack. With a loud crack, a cloven hoof lands on my chest knocking me back.

With my jaw clenched like I am physically holding back my rage I dive back into the fray. Asher seems to be keeping the creature's attention, while Sonja makes several ineffective strikes at it.

The creature's animosity towards Asher has seemed to come to a head as it rushes, I quickly try to take advantage of this opening. My sword catches up, and I see the creature attempting to make the same kick it made before.

I try to intercept it, but I fail.

"This sword!" I yell!

The burning rage fills me, seeping out of every pour, eroding all my thoughts.

One moment I am twenty feet away, the next I am approaching a mutated deer, with my sword primed for a killing blow.

It doesn't look surprised... I don't care.

My feet are knocked out from below me. A spear has brought me down caught in between my legs. I quickly roll into my fall gaining speed as a splash of acid occupies the space my head used to be.

Using my momentum I jump out of the roll with the sword perfectly positioned for a downward slash. My crossguard buries itself into the dirt, interposed between the dirt and the creature's neck.

With a jolt, I come back to my senses; it used magic, it's a magical creature, it's not dead.

I roll backward and avoid a shower of acid and blood spewing from my cut. I didn't kill it outright, its acid melted through my sword before I could decapitate it. Still, it is a fatal wound all we have to do is keep away until it bleeds ou-

Asher rushes at this creature and delivers a devastating shoulder check pushing the creature a few feet away. He turns and tackles me, the moment our eyes meet I see it. His eyes are no longer clouded with confusion, instead, they have the gleam of intelligence.

In between our tangled limbs, I peer at the creature as it swells and bubbles. Each heartbeat seemingly increases its size. This growth continues until all at once I hear a rip followed by the sound of a wet towel hitting the floor.

For a moment all is still, and then pain shoots up my body, this hurt is accompanied by a choir of screams and pain. Sonja rushes to untangle us and inspect Asher's injuries. I take a deep gulp as Sonja peels Asher's shirt away from his back taking a large swath of skin with it. His back is pockmarked with burns and boils.

Because I was distracted by Ashers' wounds and the chorus of pain I almost didn't hear it. A low bleating coming from the fog of diluted acid. As the fog dissipates I see it! The magical monster steps out of the fog. Where there was once mutilated flesh now only stands sleek and smooth muscle. Its bleat rises in pitch to an almost inaudible sound as it rushes towards Sonja's unprotected back.

I look down at my slightly acid-scarred hands and remember that my greatsword is still broken. I desperately search my surroundings until I see Asher's spear. My eyes snap to the creature it's already almost hear I don't have time. 'Master is going to be livid at me.' I think as I stomp down on the spear and wield it in a defensive stance.

The creature responds by lowering its jaw to drag onto the floor, seemingly unbothered by the sand entering its mouth.

With a flourish, I spin the spear into its maw prying it open, and yell, "Sonja! Mouth now!" In one majesticly smooth motion, she unhooks her sling, loads it, spins, and with her full body slings a stone down the creature's throat.

I watch in fascination as the stone enters cleanly and somehow breaks the creatures back from the inside.

The creature flops to the ground no longer in control of its body. I grimace as I stomp down causing the spear to lodge itself into the skull. I try to ignore the feeling of its skull cracking, however, the feeling transferred through my bones, leaves me sick to my stomach.

I look around at the brave fools who stayed after, I see some clutching tickets in despair and others on the edge of elation. I don't hesitate to give them what they want. I take a deep breath and let out a victory roar.