“Fireball,” Shiela’s system read, showing her written description of the spell. “The bread and butter of every mage’s arsenal. The fireball is inter-dimensionally the most popular choice of all offensive spells. Its effectiveness and power are hard to beat for a spell so simple to cast. I thought it was only natural for the fireball to be your starting spell.”

The wagon rolled over thumps and puddles of mud, each coming with their distinct uncomfortable notions. A particularly bad mud swamp lay ahead, deep enough to bring pause to the horses. Their protest, however, was dissuaded with curses from the driver, whose burly face and large nose could dissuade even a bear from attacking. We were on again.

For the last fifteen minutes, I had distracted myself by reading through Shiela’s system. I was still brain-numbingly afraid of its powers. The keywords were like poison to my brain, and the possibility of accidentally firing another fireball kept my mouth at bay. Yet, the anger I felt towards Shiela and her system offered relief from the less pleasant daydreams clouding my head.

“Status,” I whispered. Remy, on watch by the opposite end of the wagon, heard me whispering to myself. She sent me a concerned glance. I ignored it. The keyword put me back at the “menu screen.”

[Cillian Bermeyer]

[Level Six]

[Beginner mage]

[Abilities: Fireball (Level three), Carillia’s assistance, Arcane Projectile, Arcane Discharge, Arcane Snare, Flame Resistance]

My massacre at the church had earned me five whole level-ups. My fireballs were now even more powerful, more deadly. By what definition was the fireball a simple spell? It had burned a whole church at level one. Burned alive fighters far more powerful than me. I could only imagine what it was capable of at level three.

Curse that damn Goddess and her lying spells. Why had Shiela ever thought this was a good idea? To offer an idiot like me the power to cast deadly fireballs. Had Shiela not heard of the term, “with power comes responsibility?” In whose mind was I responsible enough to cast deadly magic?

I read the descriptions for the new spells, though I doubted I would ever dare free their powers out to the world. Arcane magic seemed like the most ridiculous, most destructive weapon I could have imagined. To combo “Arcane Snare” with “Arcane Discharge” would kill as certainly as a machine gun on Earth.

And what was up with that one spell? “Carillia’s assistance.” The spell that failed me. I opened its description.

My good friend and the God of this planet, Carillia, has agreed to help you in tough situations. He can be a bit grumpy, and he won’t help if he deems the situation unworthy of his assistance. But don’t hesitate to call for his help if you feel it necessary.

Lying, useless fucking spell. Carillia, this excuse of a God, had deemed my situation unworthy? Saving Ry and Em and killing the cultists was simply unworthy?

I hated this. There was only one fireball I wished to cast, and that would be aimed directly at Shiela’s head. Why had she lied to me? War-free world, my ass. Why did I have to agree to this?

To hell with leveling up. I was not a mage. The incident at the church had proven as much. My attempts at the profession had already killed one young and bright soul, and indirectly another.

Rakash must have hated me for that. She hadn’t talked to me since.

My brooding thoughts were interrupted by a thump at the back of the carriage. I flinched, my thoughts hopping back to reality. A red-haired acrobat jumped into the still-moving carriage. Shena and Rakash followed, though both more gracefully.

“Cill,” Darko called with a grin. “Congratulations! You have earned yourself a spot under my leadership!”

I froze.

“The benefits go as follows,” Darko said. “You will be offered protection from Azetoth’s junkies and from the royals, and from any other sniffer who might wish to have a word with you. And I do promise your name is on at least one wanted list, after what happened at the church.

“You’ll be fed and offered a place to sleep and all that. You know, problems of living. We aren’t exactly lavish. You might wish you were dead on some days, but we’ll keep you alive. And of course, my mages will make sure your Corruption is quelled. We have no licenses; know that choosing to learn under us is technically a criminal offense.”

Remy stood up, a surprised look on her face.

“You are free to leave at any moment,” Darko said. “I do not hold my members on leashes. But were you to leave, expect no further protection from me or my members. Sounds good?”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Shena’s frown answered before I could as much as attempt to conjure a response. “Darko…” she said. “This better not be the display you were bragging about.”

“What?” Darko asked. “I got all the points across. What do you say, Cill? Do you wish to join my ranks?”

I licked my lips, struggling to make eye contact. “Um…”

“What?” Darko asked. “We are in a private wagon. No need to whisper.”

“I don’t think I should join…” I uttered out.

Darko lifted his eyebrows. “And why is that?”

Do you want an honest answer? I wished to ask. I was ready to quit my profession as a mage. I didn’t want to shoot a single more fireball, and I never wanted to see a cultist of Azetoth ever again. I was done playing Shiela’s apostle. Her system was a cruel punishment to not only me but to anyone unlucky enough to call me a companion.

“I don’t think it’s wise for me to join,” I said. I glanced at Rakash. “I mean… You don’t want me in the team.”

Darko walked directly in front of me. “Look, Cill. You clearly aren’t knowledgeable enough to decide on what’s wise and what’s not. Are you aware of your options?”

I bit my lip and looked away.

“If you aren’t coming with us, we’re sending you to the nobles,” Darko said. “You’d be trained and saved from the Corruption, for the price of tying yourself to the nobility’s power games through a magically sealed slave contract. The type that physically blocks certain decisions from being made. Your respective owners would then use your powers however they wish.”

“Would I be sent on missions?” I asked. “To kill with my magic?”

Darko nodded. “Very likely. Any glory you gain from your deeds will be claimed by the House. Any loot you snatch will be claimed by the House. The same goes for failures, but you don’t need to bet your dreams that the slightest of missteps earns a punishment far greater than any reward you will ever receive.

“Some Houses offer luxuries to their more well-behaved and successful mages, treating them as any member. Ultimately, the master has the final say in every decision, and there are no laws preventing anything short of torture as punishment for a mage’s misdemeanor. If nothing else, your hopes of freedom are none with the nobles.”

He gave me a serious look. “If instead you wish to join us, the slave contract will be avoided. You would be trained illegally under my mages to eventually become what the nobles call ‘escapees.’ A learned mage who knows to control the Corruption, and thus is no longer liable to seek a teacher. The nobles would lose their excuse to enslave you for their services, and you would keep your freedom.

“Do you see why I wished to send you to an illegal teacher? Why Remy and Shena are so eager to help you?”

“I’m thankful for the opportunity…” I said half-heartedly. “I just… I don’t think I want to join. I’m done with this mage adventuring stuff.”

“Are you sure?” Darko asked. “You’d rather go to the nobles?”

I thought for a second. “No. I don’t want the nobles. I don’t want either option. You should just toss me in a ditch. I’m not worth the effort.”

“What?” Darko asked, frown deepening.

“I’m not cut out to be a mage,” I said. “No amount of training will turn me into one. Just leave me off somewhere, and I’ll wander off…”

“The conversation we have is not about turning you into a fighting mage,” Darko said. “It is about quelling your Corruption. Do you realize that your magic is making you mad as we speak?”

I puffed through my nose. “If I have to go mad, I’ll go mad. I will not touch magic again.”

Darko looked as if he wanted to punch sense into me. “You’re serious?”

“What does it matter to you if I go mad?” I asked. “I’m already halfway insane.”

I regretted the remark immediately. Darko’s hand reached for my neck. He grabbed me from the collar of my shirt, lifting me up. “You fucking headless idiot! Do you hear what you’re saying?”

My eyes shot wide. I flailed with my legs, attempting to get back on the ground, failing. “Please!” I said. “My shirt. It’ll rip!”

Darko frowned a moment longer, then let me go. My shirt survived intact.

“Reckless idiot,” Darko said. “Why do you think the Mages’ Association exists to hunt down rogue mages? Why do you think horror stories of Soulstealer Stella scare mothers just as much as the children the tales are told to? Do you truly understand the implications of ignoring the Corruption?”

A lump was forming in my throat. Nobody was taking my side. Remy watched from the side with saddened eyes, as if I was some poor puppy she had to punish. Rakash idly listened, while Shena observed the situation, visibly concerned.

“The state of your head is not what people care about,” Darko said. “What I’m truly terrified of is the possibility of seeing you go rogue. To see your uncontrolled magic take over your logic, to have you attack everything in sight. Do you want that? Do you truly wish to become an aimless murderer because you were too afraid to fucking learn?”

“No,” I said, sniffling away tears. “I don’t.”

“I could drop you off for field work,” Darko said. “I’m sure you’d do great for a few days. Within a week, your peers will find you acting strange. They’ll find you strangling animals, ruining crops, breaking furniture. And if they don’t send you to the Houses there and then, you’ll likely kill them, too, through the Corruption’s taint. Afterward, you’ll be hunted to death by the Mages’ Association. They’ll deem you a rogue, untrained, and insane mage.”

Why? I thought. Why, why, why! Why this world!

“Do you see why I asked you to join us now?” Darko asked.

I breathed in, trying to calm myself. I managed to respond with a nod.

Darko stared directly into my wavering eyes, looking as serious as ever. “I offer you three options. Consider that a luxury; most mages only get one. First, the invitation to join us still remains. You will be trained under the girls, mainly under Remy. You will be treated as an equal in my team, though we expect cooperation and full commitment to learning.

“The second option is to join the Houses, to be taught by noble teachers. If you don’t trust us to teach you, which is a decision I will respect, you will be sent to a true licensed teacher. One who will make sure, with experience, that you will not go mad.”

I licked my lips. “And the third?”

“If you still refuse to get yourself taught by a teacher…” Darko placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, lifting it just enough for the blade to show. “I have no choice but to end the Corruption right here right now.”