The world is a weird place.

One second your life is only looking up and the next it’s like the world is about to end, and vice versa.

Then there are times when something happens, and it only fills you with uncertainty, because you're the first person it’s happened to, or at least you think you are.

However, all of these things stem from a single person, doing something so out of place that they can’t help but shake the status quo.

For some people, they make these decisions because they can’t stand the status quo, for others it’s a mistake or a stroke of brilliance; however they wish to qualify it as.

However, for people like me, it’s my job.

Yeah, you heard me, my job is simply to shake things up in the world, I just have one teansy-weansy little problem.

‘I’M BEING SOLD IN A FUCKING GARAGE SALE!!’

“Hey honey, is that a monkey’s tail?” woman

“Oh God, I knew this guy was weird, but who keeps a petrified monkey’s tail as a souvenir?” Man

‘HEY!! FUCK YOU!! I AM SO MUCH MORE THAN A FUCKING SOUVENIR!!’

The woman was fidgeting slightly and looked extremely uncomfortable.

“Umm, honey, let’s just leave, that and the rest of the things here are making me uncomfortable.” Woman

‘Alright, that I won’t argue with. Our aura isn’t exactly what anyone in their right mind would call welcoming.’

Incidents continued for the rest of the day until a teenage boy wearing a blue hoodie walked up to me. He had grey blue eyes, very peculiar for this world, to say the least. He had an under-bite but that didn’t stop his cleft chin from being prominent. His hair was brown, but flecks of grey hair could be seen, despite his young age.

‘Kid has to be Irish, I don’t know of many other ethnicities that age so quickly and terribly.’

The kid had an expression that came off as pissed off, though he wouldn’t be the first that I’d met that looked pissed even if chipper. His eyes, however, showed his true colors, curious with a tinge of mischief.

The kid looked at me and started mumbling to himself, he touched me and, despite my best efforts, wasn’t driven away by my unsettling aura.

‘Looks pissed when he isn’t, eyes that sparkle, ages like milk, resistant to my aura, and I’ll be damned if he doesn’t have his own brand of mischief. This kid is definitely related to that

damned midget. Oh yeah, he is going to be a fun owner.’

The ornate spear covered in Norse runes to my right was just as bewildered by this as myself.

[umm, Monk, you're resisting him, right?]

{yeah Gung, I am. This kid is either naturally resistant to our aura, has literally no connection to his instincts, or is actually compatible with us like the old man… oh shit he’s taking me to the counter! He’s actually going to buy me!}

[well shit. Good luck man, gods be with you and all that jazz.]

{well at least I don’t have to deal with the old man’s passive aggressiveness anymore. Till we meet again, Gung!}

[hahhh… are you ever going to call me by my full name? It’s kinda disrespectful, the Dwarves would get pissed if they found out someone was calling the greatest spear they ever made with a nickname, they would get supremely pissed off.]

{hahhh, again with this? Firstly, as the guy that ate all magic in this universe, pretty sure I outrank you, secondly, there aren't any Dwarves here anymore, remember? They all went poof a few months before I went and ate all the magic.}

He didn’t talk much after that. The two of us were some of the only surviving relics of the old days, back before my owner at the time decided this world shouldn’t have magic and ordered me to eat it all.

He was barely holding on after all these years, without the magic to support his enchantments, he’s nothing but an ornate spear that, to his credit, still has no equal. But that isn’t all too surprising, he is the only remaining spear forged by the Dwarves, let alone blessed by the Aesir. If it wasn’t for that blessing, he’d be just like all the runes covering his body, dead and dormant without the mana to feed him.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Ah well, all of us have learned to deal with it at this point. Nobody but a few of the more dickish ones really hold it against me, as far as I know; That demon crown of the Tudors being one of them, the cold hearted bitch. I didn’t really have a say in the matter, and if it’s asked of me, it will be done, no matter how unreasonable or impossible. Unlike the others, my existence isn’t bound by conventional magic, I'm bound by… other things.

The teen took me to the stand where the Old Man's son was selling all of us, bit by bit ruining all his father’s work. Though that wasn’t really surprising. The Old Man’s son was like most people, creeped out by the aura us relics exuded. He wanted us as far away from him as possible. When he saw that the teen was taking me away, he was giddy, the bastard.

‘Oh, yeah, no need to thank me! I am the only reason your mother even looked twice at your father AFTER ALL!’

I met the Old Man when he was still young. Him, Gung and I had quite a few adventures before he died of liver failure. He decided not to use me to extend his life again, but I would have been disappointed in him if he did. It’s always best to go off on a high note, especially if that high note is dying in the first family you’ve had in over three hundred years.

“How much?” Teen

“That, you can have for free, hell I’ll even give you the spear for free! Seeing how it doesn’t creep you the hell out.” Ungrateful Dick

The teen is stunned, and rightfully so. If Gung didn’t creep people out so much, he could probably go for a couple grand easy; I mean, he was an ornately crafted, white oak spear with pure gold inlay and Norse runes. I, on the other hand, was the tail of a monkey with translucent fur, that if anyone with a penchant for magic saw, would realize was glowing.

I was a novelty, he was a masterpiece.

The Teen didn’t waste an instant after that, ran over to Gung, and bolted.

[well this isn’t how I expected our reunion to go.]

{Can’t wait to see how he reacts to our existence, Fae-kin give the best reactions in my opinion.}

[you can say that again, by the way, how do you know he’s Fae-kin? Pretty rare these days and Bulg said you never showed up in Ireland, last time we met.]

{I did however have a few run ins with that leprechaun bastard, and this kid is startlingly similar. I think I can see some Morrigan in ‘im too.}

He sends the feeling of him shuddering to me.

[I hope he isn’t like Morrigan, way too much work if he is.]

{So, how should we do it this time? I’m of the opinion we slowly invade his dreams and make him discover our existence on his own, or start screaming at him in some dead language while he’s by himself?}

He stays silent for a minute before answering.

[Let's go with dead languages, don’t want him thinking he’s crazy, or he might bury us in a ditch. However, let’s not shout, but do that demonic whispering thing and actually say weird shit.]

{Alright, lemme just give you some extra mana then. Gods know I have way too damn much of the stuff.}

I felt a little drain out of the near endless pool of mana I had stored up, a side effect of eating all magic in this reality. If I had more freedom in how the wish was made, I would probably be as powerful as a God, and with none of the restrictions.

The rest of the way was spent in idle conversation about how we were going to spend our time with our new owner. Mostly how we were going to fuck with his head.

It’s always fun to screw with a scientific mind that didn’t understand magic.

However, things got weird when we finally arrived at his house.

Let’s just say the brothers Grimm would have a field day with his family.