Edna glared at Tim but said nothing. Tim relaxed his shoulders and casually swept his eyes over them. Ed approached, slowly and cautiously.

Tim eyed “We was just taking a beautiful midnight stroll, like yourselves,” Tiny Tim casually drawled out as Ed circled them slowly.

“Zat so?” Ed’s tone was casual, but his eyes were hard.

“You know it gov’ner!” Bruv piped up in his wily voice. His weaselly eyes darted to Edna’s curvaceous form and he licked his lips.

Ed levelled his gaze at both of them.

Bruv’s hands slowly drifted to his pocket. Tim reached behind his back. The Warlocks hunched over and bounced on their heels — as if ready to pounce. Eyes set and bodies tense. It was quiet. All that could be heard was the rustling of Edna’s skirt as she moved along the grass, slowly getting behind her husband. Ed’s fists clenched and unclenched. His gold rings glittering in the moonlight. The tension mounted. It was so think you could cut it with a knife.

Then it broke.

“Well in that case, have a good night!” Ed’s wrinkly face broke into a cheery smile. Tim and Bruv nearly spat blood.

“After all that damn build up…” They both mumbled in irritation under their breaths.

Ed gave them a half-hearted salute, wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist and floated Oz’s body with his mind, turned and walked off. His many gold rings catching the nighttime light as he waved at the two Warlocks.

Sizzle!

Ed leapt to the side dodging a beam of fire that tore through where his back should have been. He rolled and floated his wife out of harm’s way. Ed turned and faced his assailants. His face the picture of perfect calm. In Bruv’s hand was a staff, very conspicuously pointed at him.

“Now what was that about?” Ed eyed the smoking stave in Bruv’s hand. The red gem on the end of the gnarled black wooden stick still steaming with heat.

“Me hand slipped… It was an accident… friend.” Bruv smiled wickedly.

“Oh, that’s totally cool! Have a good night then.” Ed tipped his hand to them, his bald black head seeming to reflect the starlight as he turned and proceeded to walk off. Edna, sprinted to her husband’s side and eyed the two Warlocks with anger.

Bruv felt like puking, he just didn’t understand what was happening. But he felt rage at being ignored.

“Bruv… maybe we shouldn’t —”

“Shut up Tim! He’s a dead man now. Oi! Turn around so I can see your face when I blast a hole in your chest.”

Ed stopped, side-stepped in front of his wife, so that Bruv and Tim couldn’t see her anymore. Ed still kept his back to them as he rubbed his head.

“Turn the prick around!” Bruv nearly screamed at him, his high-pitched voice squeaking with indignation.

Ed sighed. Pulled out a pipe from his pocket. Stuffed it with tobacco. Apple flavour. The smell reached the Warlocks despite the distance. He put the pipe in his mouth. And turned around. His voice low and threatening as he spoke, “Are you talking to me?”

“Prick you!”

Bruv unleashed a torrent of flame from his staff. The beam of heat shot straight for Ed’s head. Ed swayed to the side — casually moving his wife with his mind — and turned his head, putting the pipe directly below the laser of fire. He took a deep puff, letting the magical flame light his tobacco. Bruv felt his jaw drop as Ed puffed contentedly on his pipe. He felt nothing but regret. Tim shifted and stepped closer to Bruv, his body language nervous.

“Now… are you too stupid to realize, that I’m way out of your league? Or are you doing this on purpose?” Ed took a deep puff before continuing, the smoke billowing around him. “What are you? Upper Major Grade Wizards? Go back to practising your spells in the Department of Wizardry! What are your names?”

“Prick Tim, he’s only Major Grade, if we don’t kill him we’re —” Bruv stopped mid-sentence and stared at his girthy friend, his jaw open. Tim had taken off his bowler cap, and was bowing to Ed.

“Apologies dear friend,” Tim’s gravelly voice sounded steady and sure, “But we are technically trespassing… we feared you would report us to the authorities, so we lashed out. Foolishly. Perhaps you could kill us both, but maybe that pretty little wife of yours or that small boy you’ve hidden in the trees won’t be as lucky as you. Here, take these measly 10000 ducats as compensation.” Tim pulled out a small bag that clinked with the sound of money.

“Make it 100 stones and we got a deal.”

“Friend… please… have mercy…”

“No deal then.”

“100 stones it is!” Tim pulled out a bag of spirit stones and proffered them to Ed.

Ed smiled, “Just toss them over.”

Tim nodded and tossed the stones in the air. He shouted in surprise as an invisible force pushed them back in his face. Bruv shrieked with rage as Edna shot toward him, propelled in the air by Ed’s psychic power at her back, wielding a sharp katana in her hands.

Her soft voice whispered in the night, “Jodan no kamae.”

Her sword slashed down ferociously.

“Ken.”

Bruv lifted his staff hastily and took the blow directly, the staff didn’t break but he was knocked back ten feet and looked stunned. Dust and leaves billowing in his wake. Edna ignored Tim and made a beeline for the stunned Warlock. Tim whirled around, a small wand in his hand, and shot a beam of fire at Edna’s back. Defying the laws of physics, she was jerked to the side — is if by an invisible hand — and resumed her sprint. Before Tim could adjust and fire again, his scalp tingled with a sense of danger. He ducked. A ball of psychic energy whistled by where his head was just a second ago. Before he could recover, another ball shot to his torso. He moved and turned his eyes to look at Ed. He was shocked at what he saw.

Ed had taken a south paw boxing stance and was throwing jabs with his right hand. With each jab a ball of energy would shoot out from the gold rings on his fingers. Tim turned to the side — his overalls and chemise eviscerated by a rippling ball that narrowly missed his heart. He cursed under his breath. Blood dripped from his shirt. And took a glance at the Bruv’s battle, and grimaced. Tim mumbled in his mind. She closed the distance… He jerked back to attention as he dodged another of Ed’s missiles.

“Hey big boy, eyes here.” Ed’s calm cool voice irked Tim, but he could do little more than dodge as if his life depended on it.

Edna, free of Tim’s interference, stepped in front of Bruv. She brought her blade down hard on the wiry man, but the spindly Warlock had recovered and wielded his staff like a sword. Edna had to use all her strength to swat the staff away every time he pointed it at her — lest he blow her stomach open with fire. She chopped with renewed vigour and put Bruv on the defensive. Her sword chopping down rapidly like an axe on wood. Bruv tried to take one head on, but his eyes went wide as his staff was nearly cleaved in twain. He tried to bat at her sword as he swung, using the gem on his staff as the point of contact. Over and over again Edna’s arms swung. Her breath grew short and shallow, sweat poured down her brow and back. She was a mortal, with only mortal endurance. No cultivation power at all. Even compared to a wizard her bodily constitution was lacking, her skill in martial arts was all that gave her the advantage. Bruv waited like a snake, his eyes narrow, he was being patient. Waiting for her to run out of steam and have to take a deep breath. But Edna was more than just a mere mortal. She relaxed her shoulders, her next swings falling more lightly than before.

Chop! Block! Chop! Block!

Edna’s relentless assault ended, and she paused to breathe. Bruv rejoiced inside and lunged forward, the tip of his staff glowing with fire as he swung it downward to smash her skull. She didn’t panic. Edna sheathed her sword and felt Ed pull her backwards with his psychic power — the Warlock went wide-eyed as he missed his swing, the ground exploding in smoke and fire. Bruv coughed on the smoke, his vision obstructed by the dust and debris.

Tim turned to their battle because of the noise, but screamed as a psychic blast took him in the chest. A last second incantation saving his life. He had no time to help, his partner was on his own.

Edna kneeled and felt Ed push her forward, directly in front of the now vulnerable Warlock. She was kneeling on an invisible floor, inches off the ground. Bruv didn’t notice her approach. She was lower than he expected. She was silent.

“Iaido.”

Bruv felt the cut. He saw the blade flash through the smoke. Slicing the grey mist like it was grass. It was too fast for him to react. But he heard her speak. And he felt something. Warm liquid dripped down his legs. Edna stood and turned around, her back to him, and started walking — her feet back on the grass again. Her back completely exposed. His mind shouted. You’re dead my dear! He sneered and flung his arm forward to blast her with magery, but was surprised when his body fell forward from the momentum. He toppled over. His eyes saw dirt and grass. He was shocked. What’s happening? Why can’t I feel my legs… Legs… Where am I… What am I do… do… doing? Bruv’s torso stopped wiggling on the ground and the bottom half of his body fell backward, blood spurting into the air.

Tim swore loudly, “Damn elf-skin!” His eyes went red, he ducked, dodging another of Ed’s projectiles. Tim’s heart clenched with desperation, he was alone. The swordsman was coming. He had to end this battle quick. He eyed her as she approached, she was out of breath. Sweating and tired. I need to kill her… it’ll throw off the Psyker. Tim grasped his wand firmly and weaved carefully around Ed’s next shots, spinning gracefully like a figure skater. He could almost hear a soundless music, a certain pace to Ed’s blasts. Feeling like he had a sense of Ed’s rhythm, he anticipated a blast and dodged early — creating distance. He flung his hand out and pointed his wand at Edna preparing to blast her through. He tried to channel his mana but was stunned to see his hand fly off his wrist in puff of red mist and bone. His scream ripped through the air as he stared at his handless wrist. His eyes turned to Ed. Tim sighed in his mind. Oh, he was only throwing jabs with his right hand before. That was a shot from his right hand. This new blast was different from the others, it was fast, it was more like a blade than a ball. Tim couldn’t move, his body was in shock. He closed his eyes and waited for the death blows from the Psyker. A one-two combo from Ed punctured a large hole where his heart should have been and a smaller hole where his stomach was. Tim dropped to his knees. Breathing heavily as blood poured from his wounds. His stomach acid spilling out into his organs, increasing his pain. Tim felt his mind crumble under the force of the agony. It barely registered when a cold blade slipped under his jugular. He tried to grab a healing pill from his pouch, to ease the pain in his gut. But the sword moved from his throat and tapped his hand.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Now, now, let’s not grab a healing pill just yet,” Edna’s voice was hard and cold, in sharp contrast to her warm womanly figure.

Ed slowly sauntered up, cracking his neck, letting his gold chain clink and bounce as he moved. Ed fluffed his leather jacket, allowing the moonlight to shine on his exposed chest and black skin. He took a deep draw from his pipe — it had never left his mouth the whole time. Ed waved a hand. Tim felt himself levitate in the air, the flow of blood from the wound stopped and the blood in his body started moving around — as if he still had a heart and stomach. He couldn’t move his limbs though. Edna sheathed her sword and stood behind her husband. Ed puffed contentedly and just stared at Tim. Five minutes passed in silence. Tim felt himself break.

“What in bloody hell do you want?!” Tim’s voice cracked at the end, his resolve broken.

“Who sent you?” Ed’s voice was warm, almost neighbourly.

“No one!”

Ed frowned in irritation, he took another puff and waited. Five more minutes passed. Tim jutted out his bottom lip in defiance. Ed took a deep draw and took his pipe out of his mouth. Emptied it out and stowed it away. He locked eyes with Tim and sighed, “The only thing keeping you alive right now is me. You have no heart, you have no stomach. I am using my mind to move your blood for you, but there is a limit…” Ed popped a green pill in his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully.

Tim opened his mouth to speak and gurgled when Ed squirted a green stream of liquid directly down his throat, “This pill will ensure you do not faint or fall asleep… no matter what happens I — Oh… how unfortunate… your kidneys have failed.”

Tim nearly vomited blood and felt his eyes bulge as Ed forced his blood and bile back down his throat, “Your tolerance for pain is immense.” Ed grinned as he stared at the Warlock with a predatory gaze. Tim’s teeth chattered in fear.

Ed smiled again, “Oh no… that’s the liver.”

Tim convulsed as his organs shut down, the pain so intense he could barely think or speak. His fingers and toes went numb. Then his arms and lungs. The immobility and helplessness creeped up his spine. He choked on air as his lungs gave way. He gulped for air that would never come. His face turned red. Tim felt like he was floating, suspended in a sea of pain. He waited. Waited patiently for the black to consume him, he hungered for it. He wanted to die. It hurt so much. He almost passed out from rage as he felt another pill get shoved down his throat. Rage turned to confusion and confusion turned to horror as he felt his body recover. Rapidly. Ed had just given him a high-grade healing pill. Tim blinked and floundered as air swam back into his lungs. He collapsed on the ground in a blithering heap, unmoving. Ed was not restraining him, but he was too weak to move.

Tim gasped as Ed’s boot connected with his ribs. Ed bent down and lifted his head, “Ready to talk now?”

Tim’s eyes were wide, but he screeched in defiance, “Never!”

Ed sighed and turned to his wife, “Baby, will you take the boy to Eleazer? We need to make sure he’ll be okay. I have some… things to take care of.”

Edna seemed to be on the verge of puking, this side of her husband was making her sick. She knew what his job entailed. She knew who he worked for and what he did. But damn did she hate it. She hated McCarthy… and ever since that day… that horrible day. She saw her husband become colder and colder. He was becoming more and more like the man he hated. It frightened her. A tear slid down her cheek, she wiped it away and kissed Ed on the cheek. Then walked off to fetch the boy, she didn’t say a word to him. If Ed was aware of her disappointment he didn’t show it.

Ed stared after Edna as she walked away. He almost sighed again, but caught himself and held it in. He looked at Tim’s shattered psyche and wounded body. But there was no pang of guilt. He wanted to feel bad. He wanted to hate himself for what he was about to do. He knew it was wrong. But it had been so long since… since he cared.

Ed levitated Tim and flipped him upright and stared him in the eye. “Let’s start again… what’s your name?”

Tim struggled against Ed’s psychic bonds but was unable to move. He just glared at the old Psyker. Ed kicked him in the shins. Hard. A soft crunch revealed that bones had been broken. Tim whimpered but held in his tears. Ed looked Tim in the eyes, Tim looked away.

Ed took out a towel and wiped the sweat off his brow, “Now… I didn’t want to do this the hard way… but you’re being very… uncooperative. So, let’s try again.”

Tim screamed as two holes appeared in his chest and gut. A log floated over from behind Ed and the black man sat down.

He pulled out his pipe again. He stuffed it. He floated a match into the air and lit it. He took a deep breath and the smell of smoke and tobacco filled the night again. Tim’s face had become a blithering mess, mucus and tears had made it unsightly. His mental defences were broken. Ed shut his eyes and burrowed into Tim’s fragmented consciousness. Ed smiled at Tim again. He needed to tenderize the Warlock a little more.

“Tim… can I call you Tim? See, I’m an Auditor… I kind of work for McCarthy and let me make this clear. You will die. But, I give you the power to choose when you die. Until you tell me what I want, I will keep you alive. When you tell me what I need to know — and I verify it of course — then you can git to the afterlife.” Ed’s white teeth seemed to glow in the night. “Oh no… is that the kidney again? So fast this time. Healing pills can only do so much… good thing I have a lot of them.”

The screams were first loud. Then soft. Then just tired whimpering was heard. Then after a full hour all was quiet.

Tim had cracked completely, his mind was broken. Ed killed him instantly, he didn’t even bother to verify the information — he knew it was true.

“I need to tell the Chancellor.” Ed looked at his hands for a moment. They were clean, not a drop of blood on them, but he didn’t feel clean. Ed stared at the night sky and let a tear fall down his face. One tear became two and the two became many. Soon Ed was sobbing uncontrollably, and he started vomiting on the grass beside the corpse. His apathetic frame of mind had shattered when he had peered into the thoughts and feelings of his victim.

What have I become?

Ed wiped his mouth. Floated the body. Arranged his jacket and walked off into the night.

***********

Oz awoke in Ebenezer’s lab from a night of feverish dreams. He saw Ed’s concerned expression and the… hungry? Whatever it was. The decidedly discomfiting gaze on Ebenezer’s face, those were the first things he saw when he woke up from the endless cycle of dreams. He felt different this time. When he woke up after he lost an arm he remembered seeing Ed for the first time. Oz felt an unconscious urge to kill him — right then and there. He remembered the home. Playing with the twins. He remembered it all. He remembered the night he had grabbed the knife. Then the knife protruding from his chest. Then black.

But now… after he awoke from the second surgery, he had a new scar and a new frame of mind. He felt better. The feelings and emotions that had driven him to try and murder Ed seemed… alien. Seeing the auburn woman in his dreams was nice, it brought a clarity to him. He reached in his mind, trying to find the box… but he couldn’t find it (probably due to his abysmal psychic potential, though little Oz didn’t quite understand those things yet). He relaxed and let Ed and Ebenezer fawn over him. He still felt strange towards Ed (a bit of bloodlust), but that was a problem for another time.

Everything after that was a blur. He visited that shop frequently, almost once a week. Drinking weird concoctions and performing strange exercises every time he went. Bathing in odd fluids at home. Things with weird tentacles and their own pulses… it was a strange time. Every time he visited the store Ebenezer had eyed him like he was a massive pile of money — it made Oz uncomfortable.

Since that day Ed was rubbing his head more frequently than before, but soon life settled to the everyday grind. One day — he didn’t remember when — he asked Ed why he was rubbing his head so often. Ed had avoided his question. He then asked Ed why he had to drink weird things and strange exercises almost every week. Ed had smiled at him. A sad smile. “So that you can become a cultivator.”

In total, two years passed in the blink of an eye. He was five years old now and sitting on a rolling green hill overlooking a house — his house. Oz stopped reminiscing and stared at the sky, he noticed the low angle of the sun in the sky and the absence of wind on the grassy knoll. It was time to pick the twins up from school. He got up and started walking down the hill just as Ed’s bald shining head popped out of the house. Ed turned to shout at him, calling him to get the girls (but held it in), noticing Oz was on his way. He waited patiently. They stood side by side in awkward silence. Soon they were walking together, down the road to the local elementary school. It was quiet.

“Did you play?” Ed’s tone was casual and playful, breaking the silence.

Oz shook his head.

“Oh, what did you do?”

Oz shrugged.

Ed grinned, “Come on, tell me! Why don’t you ever talk to me bugger!” Ed tousled his hair casually. Oz frowned. Ed laughed.

Oz just didn’t know how to react to Ed. In his mind was the constant desire to murder Ed. But at the same time, there was a strong feeling of inhibition. The conflicting urges tore him apart… so much so… his little mind was just blank when Ed was nearby. It took all the clarity and focus of mind he could muster to respond with gestures.

“Did you just lie down on the hill again?”

Oz nodded.

“You need to run around more… build up some muscle so you can go to school. So, you can learn to be a cultivator.”

Oz’s lips pursed into what looked like a cross between a grimace and a scowl.

Ed looked at him questioningly. “What? You don’t want to be a cultivator?”

“… Don’t… want…”

The words were quiet, so quiet Ed almost missed them. Ed held in his shock, if he reacted strongly maybe the boy wouldn’t speak to him again. He waited to see if Oz would say more.

Oz scowled. But didn’t speak again.

Ed’s shoulders slumped. He started to doubt if the boy had talked at all. After a few moments of walking in silence they arrived at the school. Children bustled about in the playground and Ed’s two daughters stood out among the crowd. They were rambunctious, a side affect of their upbringing and Oz’s playfulness. Ed smiled. He loved the twins a lot. Of all his children these were the only ones who looked related to him. Beautiful soft ebony skin and naturally curly hair like their mother. Their soft blue eyes and orange tinged hair revealing their mixed ancestry. They were pretty girls and he intentionally dressed the twins in matching outfits. He considered it his solemn duty as a parent! Today was pink dresses and white sandals. They frolicked about with the other school children, but when their eyes landed on Oz they lit up with emotion. They dashed across the playground and tackled him to the ground, Ed stood back and chuckled, a deep throaty sound. Oz used his one hand to pet each of their heads, his hand bouncing back and forth between them rapidly to make up for its singleness. He smiled at them.

“Did you miss us?” Their girlish voices spoke in unison.

Oz felt a myriad of feelings, all too unfathomable and mysterious for him. He didn’t know whether he missed them or whether what he felt was beyond emotion. But, those thoughts were too complex for him. He simply smiled and nodded. A tickle war began and after a few minutes the three children were being levitated in the air and Ed was walking home. Juggling all three of his kids and them laughing gleefully as he walked. The fun and games continued all the way home. And even when the door was shut, laughter echoed from the warm home the family shared. As darkness covered the town, the lights in Ed’s home were lit, the sounds of dinner and the smell of a delicious stew wafted into the night. No one noticed the pair of amber eyes that glowed in the dark, the eyes that had followed Ed all day. The eyes that had stared at Oz on the hill. The eyes that had watched the twins at school many times. Amber eyes that burned.