‘Click, click, whirr,’ the broken drone of the coffee machine sounded out amidst the otherwise pristine silence of a pallid office building. Under normal conditions the aforementioned device would dispense its vigour bestowing liquid at this point, but regrettably the normal and actual outcomes in this case were worlds apart. An off-colour brackish sludge was poured into a green mug containing the lowercase words ‘world’s 6th best employee’ and its owner brought the concoction to his lips before taking a sip and promptly spitting it out.
“Coffee makers busted again,” the middle-aged man yelled out before pouring the offensive mixture down the nearby drain. Dressed in once-smart office attire that was now lightly crinkled, the tall, dark-haired man sat backwards on his chair while gesturing offhandedly with his now empty cup of coffee. “Man when is Virta going to be getting us a new coffee maker?” he said to nobody in particular.
“Maybe I will when you finally start doing some work, Jack,” a short thin teal haired man replied. His appearance was sudden, as if he stepped out of the white office walls, and his words caused the aforementioned Jack to fall off of his chair at the unexpected intrusion. “Any idea what is wrong with it,” he said taking a brief glance at the metallic, rune encrusted, crystal studded machine. He tapped his finger against one of the crystals, watched the machine dispense its contents and scowled at the result. “Something’s evidently wrong with the mix,” he stated disgustedly before dumping the mixture down the nearby sink.
“One of the crystals is incorrectly tuned,” I pointed out as I turned away from the glass screen, displaying the collected sum of my morning work. The pair had turned towards me, putting familiar pressure on me to elaborate and I briefly sought the words to further elucidate the problem. “The resonance for the third tuner crystal is humming at a slightly different setting. Resetting should do the trick.”
Virta nodded to demonstrate his understanding and I gladly turned back to my assigned job, a particularly interesting customisable security system for an important border fortress. It was one of those jobs that were typically outside of our company’s specialisation but since we had the expertise to pull it off and the money was good, it was handed to me.
The slight sound of moving metal signalled that Virta had taken my advice and it was only a few seconds later that I heard the distinct *crackle* of lightning magic and once more the machine droned on, although it sounded considerably more healthy this time.
“Good job Vicky-boy,” I heard Jack’s voice moment before his hand was placed on my shoulder causing the line I was drawing on the glass to be thrown way off. I growled slightly irritably as I quickly erased the offending stroke before glaring at Jack. Not that I expected the indicator of my displeasure to help in anyway. My colleague was incorrigible and it would take more than a half-hearted glare to amend his delinquent behaviour.
“Can you leave the actually productive people to continue their work,” Virta said walking over to my workstation. “Is that the Huber contract; that actually looks nigh completed,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee as he pored over my morning’s work. “How soon can I tell the client that it is ready?”
“You can put it in for review and testing at this moment,” I said handing him sheaf of flexible glass; the completed copy of the plans. “I have just been doing my own tests on variations for the half hour, seeing if I can wring out anything more.”
“Going above and beyond as usual Victor,’ Virta said before taking another sip of his coffee. “You know I’d planned for that project to last you until at least the end of this week. I’ll take this under review and you can take the rest of the day off.”
“There are still other projects that I can get started with,” I pointed out. “I could get working…”
“Go home Vicky-boy,” Jack said sitting down backwards on one of the office chairs and wheeling himself over to join the conversation, leading to an annoyed look on Virta’s face. “Getting a day off from Virta is basically impossible anyway.”
“If you would actually put a little more effort into your work you would find that I can be very accommodating indeed,” Virta said, clearly irritated by his subordinates remark. “I cannot even remember the last time you completed a project before the deadline.” Although their boss was clearly exasperated by his underling’s work ethic he was also well aware Jack pulled his own weight and had his own loyal client base. Besides it was an open secret around the office that there was a reason why Jack was seldom at home and Virta was far too genial to ever bring it up.
The two looked to begin a vigorous discussion and so I decided that discretion was the better part of valour and decided to pack up my workstation. Reaching into my pocket I flicked the button on the communicator allowing it to draw a minute amount of mana from the touch of my skin and watched as it started absorbing messages from the Between before I blinked as I suddenly saw what the screen said.
“Wow 63 messages Vicky-boy,” Jack said, invading my privacy once more. “When did an anti-social recluse like you become so popular?”
“Please refrain from reading other people’s messages Jack,” Virta said coming to my rescue again. “Did I not give you your new project this morning,” he continued, his voice seeming to pause as if he was stumbling for some words. “It was the proposal for the updated repulsion barrier for the Evensong Docks,” he stated with certainty a few seconds later. “I was sure that would take you at least a few weeks. Where is the rest of your team? Will I have to have a word with somebody?”
I tuned them out at this point, instead trying to get to the bottom of the many messages on my communicator. The mystery was soon solved as I noted that 62 of the messages were from one specific old friend and the last one was an advertisement for a new pizza place that had opened up on the corner of West and Risen Road. I made a note to check it out when I had the time. Pizza was generally a big thing for our office and Virta could easily be persuaded by people more charismatic than I to shell out whenever the company was dealing with an important deadline and we had to work overtime.
The other 62 messages were far more important than the pizza place and far less pleasant to contemplate the reason for. All of them boiled down to a request to come meet with only minor differences between them. A gradually more annoyed, aggressive tone took over as I scrolled down the list to the point that the caller was probably shouting at her communicator in the last few messages.
“I do have to go,” I said as I turned around to Virta. Maybe something showed in my expression because his blue eyes turned sharp and his face became suddenly serious.
“Fly well,” he said raising a hand in a gesture of farewell before turning back to continue lambasting Jack. Nodding in response I shut down my laptop and put it inside my company bag, a well-made yet mass produced magical bag that allowed it to fit much more than its size should allow. I briefly contemplated stowing my things away in my company locker but decided against it after a while. My contact didn’t live too far away and it was possible whatever she wanted me for could stretch out over multiple days, forcing me to leave all my things there for longer than just today. Still I had saved up quite a lot of leave and the company’s HR policy was flexible enough that all it took was a quick text to the appropriate department and my leave was approved preliminarily.
I took the stairs on my way down, hoping to get in some brief exercise to break up my currently sedentary lifestyle as I headed down to the ground from my fifth floor office. Waving to the doorman I checked out of the office declining to use the attached portal services that would allow me to get to her house instantly. Portal services had cheapened greatly over the past few years but they were still far from the most popular method of travel compared to both public transport and privately owned carriages due to their expense and limitations. These limitations were primarily heavy to me and I always felt nauseous for a few minutes after using them. I would rather not have to deal with the woman who summoned me in that state.
I stepped out onto the streets of New Bremen and was immediately greeted by a melting pot of different cultures, classes, and even species; with a vast sea of humans broken up by occasional dribbles of less populous races; something which I still had issues getting used to. This was the kind of integration that would be unheard of in my hometown or indeed much of the Old World. The building that I left behind me was a tall skyscraper, surrounded by other tall skyscrapers, situated dead centre in the business portion of town. I was never that comfortable spending large amount of time around the business district as large amounts of mana were often vented by the companies into the surrounding atmosphere giving myself and any other Wielder a hot persistent prickling feeling on the skin. This bustling industriousness was a world almost entirely untouched by the effects of the Rampage that decimated the world a mere eight years ago.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Thankfully the air cleared as I shuffled through the throngs of people and further away from my workplace to the quieter parts of town. The air grew colder as the ambient mana dropped down to a more comfortable level and the constructions of steel and glass were replaced by stone and brick and patches of vegetation began to show up here and there. Cormorant was the name of the suburb where my friend lived, a sleepy little place with a relatively long history of occupation. The house where she lived was one of the oldest, having over 400 years of history, which put it in the middle of the second wave of immigrants into Maverice.
I had no trouble finding the place, a large gate decoratively adorned with intricate and expensive murals made it hard to avoid finding her house. I casually put a hand on the gate feeling it take a chip of my mana before unseen enchantments activated and the gate swung inwards of its own accord. The garden inside the gates was a good reflection of the outside gate with water features scattered everywhere and ostentatious statues that I knew would relay my position to her. Each piece in front of me was individually expensive but arrayed carelessly, with little regard for colour, lighting, space and meaning. The door to her house was another similarly over the top, a dark red-varnished door decorated with stylised images of demons and Angels obviously created by an artist with more time then sense. I wasted no time in rapping my knuckles against the door thrice, before it opened and my contact stood in front of me.
“You’re late Victor,” the familiar woman said to me as she stood in the doorstep with her hands crossed over her chest looking like she wanted nothing more than to put me under the ground. Her blue eyes were ringed with tiredness and her golden hair was noticeably uncombed. Even her jacket and jeans looked as if she hadn’t laundered them recently.
“You look like you’ve put on a few pounds Kat,” I disclosed my observation to her and she just shook her head in long annoyance. Giving me a gesture that commanded me to follow she turned around and walked back into her house and after a moment’s hesitation I did as she bid and took after her. The air inside her house was light and chilled; signs of a lack of ambient mana build up. I expected nothing less from Kat though, or any particularly proficient wielder. On the other hand her house was apparently teenage boy levels of messy. I say ‘apparently’ because I have never had a son and the room I occupied as a teenager was kept meticulously clean, although not by me.
“You really are the most nouveau riche person I’ve ever met, Kat,” I said to my companion as I followed her through corridors I’ve been through dozens of times before.
“Well excuse me for enjoying the wealth I earned legitimately,” she said with no reproach in her voice. “I actually like collecting this crap.”
“You and literally every other art collector, Kat,” I said looking at the valuable artworks scattered around. “And they are crying somewhere at all the thought of all this stuff strewn indolently around all over the place.”
“It is my stuff bought fair and square and they can suck it,” Kat said before she opened a familiar door at the end of the hallway. “Come in, there’s pizza in the fridge.”
I obeyed her friendly instructions walking into a room dotted with bean bags and computers. It would almost look like the room of a lower-class teenager if it wasn’t for the inscribed runes forming magic circles on every scrap of wall, the bookshelves full of technical titles, the few artefacts stacked haphazardly to one side of the room and the black-furred creature with the head and forelimbs of a cat and the backside of a snake that lay snoozing in the corner of the room. Without a moment’s pause Kat kicked off her shoes and walked up to her slothful familiar picking up the sleeping beast in both hands and draping it over her legs as she sat down on the couch.
“So why did you feel the need to blow up my communicator Kat,” I said as I took a seat in one of the beanbags scattered around the room putting my bag on my knees for the moment.
“Me, blowing up your communicator,” Kat said quietly and it was at this point I could tell that she had been hiding her actual fury as she slipped into our native tongue. “Moron. What in the fucking tarnation was so important? Who the hell does not answer their communicator in this century? Maybe I was blowing up your communicator because I needed you for something really damn important. More important than whatever plumbing system you were designing.”
“It was actually a high-spec security system…” I said only to be cut off by more foul language. Maybe I should offer her one of my special calming drops, nah that would probably tick her off more at this moment. Better just to let her run her course at this moment. She doesn’t normally last very long.
“Okay, okay,” she said abruptly stopping after thirty seconds of chewing me out. “Go back to sleep Tatzel,” she said gently to her familiar that had woken up sometime during the yelling and was now hissing balefully at me. She took a deep breath before she continued in a more subdued voice. “Look Victor I’m sorry that I interrupted your sketches but I am a little wound up right now and I have a few things to worry about that are just a bit bigger than your day job.”
“I highly doubt that anything you say could be a bigger deal than a customizable security system for a fort,” I said smugly crossing my arms. Border forts were an important existence and the Huber fort ranked in the top five most important forts in Maverice due to its indispensable job of overlooking the Salt Plains; one of the few places in Maverice which saw consistent levels of animal attacks.
“The Yolky ambassador was assassinated early this morning,” Kat replied with a deadpan as if calling me an idiot. Well, fuck me then.
“Ok,” I said mentally retracting my statement. “Are you sure he just didn’t pick a fight with a dragon or something,” I said displaying my current wishful thinking. Say what you like about Kaminotochi, they may be racist, brutish, short-tempered, primitive assholes but they were powerful as both a species and an individual level. As the ambassador of their nation and a representative of their homeland I would be surprised if he wasn’t one of the strongest of their own unique race.
“I wish,” Kat almost spat out. “If the moron had done just that then there would be no problems. The Yolky would have probably just sent the dragon a congratulatory card of some sort. Hell if I walked up to him on the street and murdered him they would have less of a problem as long as I was upfront about it. The problem was that he died silently in the middle of the embassy.” That was probably the worst possible situation.
“They won’t like that,” I said thinking of possible repercussions. “Have they reported it back to the archipelago?”
“As soon as they found him,” Kat said and for a moment she looked genuinely tired. “They’re seeking immediate return of the body and the name and punishment of the murderer.”
“How contradictory,” I mused. “When you say immediate…”
“They want it now,” Kat said. “In fact they wanted it six hours ago. We haven’t even been able to check the crime scene yet.”
“That could be bad,” I said to Kat and a tired nod showed that she agreed. “So what do you want me to do about this? I don’t have any investigative knowledge in particular.”
“You have a deep and broad knowledge most magic in all its forms,” Kat pointed out. “If the cause of his death was magical you should at least be able to determine it.” That wasn’t a very good reason considering there were dozens of people who were almost as good as me and maybe a few who were better. I was about to point it out when Kat rose her hand as if to forestall my statement. “The bigger reason is that I need somebody who I can trust and somebody who the Youkai will trust. I believe that Martin Victorin still has some clout among the Youkai clans.”
“You know I hate using that name Katrina,” I said as I felt dull annoyance course through me. “The unpleasantness has been eight years already and I’ve spent most time trying to forget it.”
“Consider doing this for me as a way of knocking off some of the debt you owe me,” Katrina said as she looked at me pleadingly. “Just loan your name for a bit and show up a bit around the investigation site. I’ll take two favours off your tally.”
“Three and we’ve got a deal,” I said determined not to sell my assistance too low.
“Deal,” Kat said without a second’s hesitation, giving me the feeling that I had just been conned. “I have already set up a portal straight to the embassy so we can be there in a few seconds.”
“You’re coming with?” I asked giving her an unimpressed look. “And does this mean you already contacted the embassy relaying my approval?”
“I’m coming with you initially just to scope the thing out myself and we both know what you were going to do Victor,” she said as she said a few words and snapped her fingers and her casual jeans and jacket transformed into a rune-laced set of cloth armour. “Are you going to change as well?”
“I’m not expecting to get into a fight Kat,” I replied firmly. “I would be very out of practice anyway.”
“Magic isn’t a skill that you just forget Victor,” she replied shaking her head. “But okay I’ll respect your wishes. No fighting should be necessary anyway.”
“Are those your famous last words,” I said raising an eyebrow but I was aware I was being needlessly dramatic and the look on her face told me that she knew it.
“Just come on,” she said grabbing my arm and dragging me to a familiar looking device. A metal circle twisted into the shape of a Mobius strip that thrummed with space-time magic and was inscribed with hundreds upon hundreds of miniscule rows of runes. It would take a single high level artificer two months to make one and for the larger ones used in the transportation industry it could take dozens of people working together to construct one in the same time.
“Do we have to take the portal,” I said trying not to sound as if I was whining if I did so. Going through portals was always rough on any Wielder and I saw Kat give me an unsympathetic look.
“Suck it up,” she said. “I hate it also but we don’t exactly have time on our side. I don’t think you truly understand how bad things could get.”
“I do,” I said truthfully. The Youkai were not the most forgiving species towards perceived dishonesty. If they truly believed that Maverice was picking a fight with Kaminotochi they would not back down, even if outnumbered. They would declare war without a second thought and while it was very doubtful they would win, it was likely that the casualties against the battle hardened Youkai would be ridiculous. Sighing at the slight feeling of weariness that came over me I nodded to Kat and then stepped through the hole in the Firmament.
It cannot be understated how unpleasant stepping through a portal is to a Wielder of magic. Users have it easy in that regard as their inability to properly manipulate the substance means they lack that split second insight into the eldritch whirling of space-time that burns itself into your eyelids as well as the disorientation of feeling your own mana flounder against the hot-cold, dry-wet, light-heavy, not-mana that filled up the entirety of the not-space in the Between. I could only hope my day would get better from here; or at least not go too much further downhill.