Try to convince a rock to jump.
Nothing has happened and now you feel quite the fool for talking to a rock. Now imbue that same rock with a bit of yellow and you can send it into low orbit should you have the spells necessary.
Isn’t magic a wonderous thing?
—{}{}{}{}{}—
Xavier.
A drop of my blood lands and I can feel as though something has changed in the air around me. No, I’m certain something is different and I can almost taste it in the air. Like the coppery tang of blood and the overwhelming sweetness of sugar.
Oliver has me shirtless in a dining chair as he pokes and prods the latest addition to my skin. I mean that literally he has a small needle and has been poking the skin around my tattoo for around thirty minutes now. I’d be more concerned if it weren’t for how hard it was for him to draw even the smallest drops of blood.
As per Mary’s depiction, the tattoo of a Shield member is loaded to the brim with magic enhancements that could do just about anything a roaming militant might need. From small sparks to light fires, a spell to dry clothes, and even identification should I need to enter a new city or in some cases even other countries, or to identify my mangled corpse.
My new job had a higher turnover rate than the janitors at Chornobyl.
“So lad, I’ve got good news and bad news and I’m almost certain both are likely to complicate your future. Which would you rather hear first?”
“Bad news I guess?”
“From the look of things just about every enchantment on your tattoo is broken beyond repair. The obvious negatives aside, I'm more concerned with how they broke and how that didn’t affect you. Normally when an enchantment breaks it tends to take its attached item with it that it didn’t happen to you is already a positive.
On the other hand, enchantments break by unraveling like frayed knots dispersing the associated mana into the item, yours, shattered like glass. And no the good news isn’t that it didn’t kill you or take the whole arm.
The good news is that all the separate pieces dispersed into the rest of your arm and at the moment, the thing can be treated as an enchanted item.”
“But what does that mean?”
“Enchanted items so long as they’re stable can’t be damaged by unenchanted items. For the foreseeable future your arm is nigh indestructible, just don’t go around trying to catch swords just because you can’t be cut, it doesn't mean it won’t dislocate your arm or break a few bones.”
Well now, combined with how poor magic reacts to me this might be the edge I need in combat. Except.
“You said they both could make things harder on me, how so?”
“Unless you plan on using a smith or mage as a doctor you only need to wear long sleeves to avoid anyone catching a glance at it. As for the arm itself, well it should be obvious but if you can’t take damage from mundane objects people are gonna start asking questions. Add on your peculiar nature and you’d make a fine lab rat for any wayward noble.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Or more likely the High Protectorate would nab you for their anti-mage units and they get rather brutal during training, or so I’ve heard.”
For a moment all I could do was stare blankly at the floor as I contemplated just how fucked my life was becoming. Oliver was kind enough not to berate me just yet as I slowly dealt with the growing dread but my reprieve was cut short by a long sigh coming from the old man.
“You have got to be the dumbest man I’ve ever met, how you managed to endanger yourself worse than your still mangled guts is something scholars could research for a hundred years! In all my life I've never met a man so willing to toss away his life and not even blink!
Huh, sorry about that but I need you to know that joining the Black Shields was a worse decision than swimming in a sewer. Even if you weren’t a walking flesh wound I’d still doubt it would be a good idea. What reason did you have to join anyway?”
“Well besides the chance at training under some talented fighters it was this.”
The receptionist, Mary, was ever so kind to point out the only job under the black section of the notice board and I couldn’t help but snag it on my way out. On the table in all its glory was the very same quest and upon seeing it, Oliver laughed. Deep from the belly with bright red cheeks and all, laughed in my face even having the gall to wipe away a tear.
“You know lad every once in a while I see something truly beautiful, whether it’s a sunset unlike any other or a piece of art worth a thousand Steels. This, this is worth its weight in gold!”
My valiant task was quite simple for the perceived difficulty required of a Black Shield, I was to brave dangers like no other and, gather some flowers. Mind you these flowers were still dangerous in their own right but thanks to a certain property of mine collecting them would be child’s play.
“So how many do you think I should grab?”
“They pay by weight so I’d say a good stone's worth but seeing as how that many would kill just about anyone else I suggest you only grab a handful or two. Just make sure to have a sack or something when you hand em’ over, don't wanna kill the receptionist.”
“I'll wait for nightfall, fewer people willing to go beyond the walls then and I can avoid prying eyes when I come back.”
“Until then I say we sew up the rest of your guts not like you need an open wound out there.”
—{}{}{}{}{}—
A sickening crunching fills the dark void of an alley only silenced by a short scream and the sound of meat falling into a puddle of liquid. On the ground barely visible by moonlight lay the still form of a girl no older than sixteen, her body bare and broken for all the world to see.
Above this poor sight was a man who by all rights had less business this close to the slums of Falden than the dead girl beneath him. Dressed in rich greens and gold filigree with a luxurious fur scarf lazily draped across his neck he painted a rather stunning image truly fit for the noble blood in his veins.
“Useless whore! How dare you so much as blink in my presence you ungrateful bitch! And here I am giving you so much of my attention, it is wasted on the lowly meat that you are.”
As though nothing had happened he simply left with no care for what he’d done but as if by some cosmic justice seeking to exact karma the moment he stepped into the street abroad he came face first upon a guard in full plate. For a breath, the two could only gaze at each other expectantly the area so quiet you could hear a mouse sneeze. Faster than most people could blink the guard's hand went for his blade drawing it in fractions of a second its gleaming edge bright with enchantments.
Not a second later the guard was on his knees the same blade placed firmly against his neck a small drop of crimson running down its length.
“Forgive me, my lord! I did not wish to disturb your night! Please allow me to atone with my life!”
“Unnecessary, clean up my useless toy back there and you are free to go.”
“Yes, my lord!”
And so another young girl disappeared under the moon's watchful gaze, her family to never know just how right they were to be afraid for her safety.