Chapter 002
Life of a Combat Mage
His name was James Griffin.
From a young age, he was accepted into a high-end military officer academy and graduated in only two years' time. He comes from a family of nobles who has participated in many of the major wars throughout Esteras’ history. While he didn’t possess enough essence in order to use magic as the combat mages do, his intellect combined with his impressive aptitude as a leader allowed him to shoot through the ranks relatively quickly.
However, this was not to say he was the most upstanding of individuals. In fact, he was one of the persons in the military Rune despised the most. If not for his condescending personality, then for the callous comments he’d issue with a straight face. Almost as if he wasn’t aware of the servile words streaming out of his own mouth at high velocity. Just staring at him with his fake smile and emanating a manufactured, benevolent aura was enough to make Rune want to punch him square in the jaw.
Nevertheless, there was a certain problem Rune needed to address first and foremost. He cared not for rank and even less for appearances. Invading the major’s domain without a hint of fear or hesitation, Rune relayed to him an unforgiving grimace. “So, was it your doing?” he growled.
Perplexed, James could only cock his head and say, “I’m sorry?”
“Stop playing dumb! You’re the bastard who’s been going around telling people to call me “Everburn”, aren’t you!” Rune declared, pointing a trembling, accusatory finger his way. “I don’t want anything to do with that horrid title, understand?! And if I am to be given a codename I’d prefer it if the officials at Military High Command gave me one instead of a creep like you!”
“Silence your tongue, you insolent maggot!” shouted the first lieutenant, smacking the young mage atop his cranium. “Where do you get the nerve to speak to your superior with such impudence?! I should have you court-martialed for such a deplorable action!”
“Please, save yourself the trouble,” James said, raising his hand.
“B...But, sir...”
“It’s fine. Ransford and I have a bit of a past, so to speak.” Regarding Rune with a grin, he continued, “And I assure you I did nothing of the sort. But if the people of Esteras insist on referring to you as such, you might as well accept it.”
“As if,” grunted Rune. “The hell are you doing here anyway?”
“Why, a little bird notified me that the Pygmy Vyper Gang was situated in Ponsetta. As a soldier in my own right, I came to provide assistance should the mission take a turn for the worse. I’m relieved to discover, however, everything seems to be in order, more or less,” he concluded, taking another look at the scene. Once his gaze fixated on the incubated building, as well as the soldiers escorting more men out of its shattered entrance, he mentioned, “From what I’ve gathered, you defeated them single-handedly. I guess you’ve gotten stronger since last we met, hm?”
“...Yeah, I suppose.”
“Although, it would appear as if you still find a way to get yourself into heaps of trouble. Looks like some things never change.”
“Oh shut it, will you!”
“Even so, in spite of today’s victory, fire magic is pretty difficult to control, even amongst those who consider themselves experts. I commend you for making use of it with such precision and expertise. Still, allow me to offer you a bit of advice: accidents strike when we least expect them to. When I look at this charred building, such grim memories come back to haunt me. I can only imagine it’s even worse for you.” James took a step closer to Rune, peering down at him with a simplistic smile. And with this layer of innocence veiling his face, he said with an air of modesty, “Your magic is strong and your skills have undeniably improved. So I sincerely hope this means you won’t be burning anyone else alive in the near future.”
Rune hadn’t yet activated his magic though, from his comment alone, he felt the unrivaled heat of a tempered inferno encompass his very being. He bawled his fist, gritted his teeth, wettened his gaze. Contrasting James’ smile, Rune retaliated with an amplified scowl. “What the hell did you just say?”
“Yes,” interrupted Sabine, equipped with a subdued leer. “I couldn’t quite catch that, sir?” Her nonchalant intrusion into their conversation delivered a wave of surprise to Rune and a monsoon of fear to James. Rune immediately noticed the change in the major’s demeanor. The instant the woman rested her hand on his shoulder he began to shiver as if the atmosphere turned frigid. “Well, mind repeating yourself?”
“O...Oh, it was nothing really! I was merely complimenting Ransford on a job well done!”
Her chuckle was as fake as James’ stuttering lie. “So I thought.”
“Nice save, sir!” laughed Striker. “Couldn’t have said it better myself!”
Ever-present by his side were Sabine Zenobio and Striker Dolton. One, an expert mage who specialized in a mysterious magic Rune wasn’t exactly familiar with. He hoped to someday see her in action. The crimson tome strapped to her side apparently possessed spells only she could use. The woman was undoubtedly a mage not to be trifled with. The other, an expert marksman skilled with any number of firearms, magically enhanced or otherwise. Rune once heard stories of how he eliminated an entire party of men alone and with only three bullets. Even without magic, he could give the best of mages a run for their money.
These two acted as James’ “guardians”, so to speak. His personal defenders that would ensure he’d survive any mission, even at the cost of their own lives. That being said, there was a definitive contrast between their personalities on and out of the battlefield. Rune lifted an eyebrow as he watched Grimdark pinch her whimpering commanding officer’s ear as Dolton howled with laughter behind them.
Are they really the soldiers I’ve heard so much about? And they have the nerve to call me immature.
“It’s been a delight, Ransford,” said James, rubbing his throbbing earlobe. “But I’m afraid we must return to the capital. I’ve shied away from my duties for long enough.” Waving him farewell as he started off back in the direction from which he came, James grinned, “My prayers are to Ryas for your continued success!”
Rune frowned. “Good riddance...”
“Something to add, Ransford?!” shouted the first lieutenant whom Rune had entirely forgotten was present.
“Negative, sir.”
“Wise choice. Now, let’s return to the base. For your sake, we better not keep the general waiting.”
It’s one annoyance after another today, isn’t it?
As he began to follow the grumbling lieutenant, Rune took a swift glance back at Griffin. Given what he already knew about him, Rune had the sinking suspicion he hadn’t come all the way from the capital to merely “provide assistance”, as he put it. His intentions were hardly ever so straight-laced. Even so, whether he was planning something or not, Rune longed not to involve himself with him any further. Liberating a yawn, he kicked a pebble on the ground before slumping after the lieutenant, utterly evaporating the memory of the annoying major from his cognition.
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True to the lieutenant’s words, the moment he stepped foot inside the Ponsetta Military Base, he was immediately summoned to the major general’s office. Shutting the doors to the general’s quarters, he found the man standing behind his desk and with his back facing him. His gaze remained fixated on the large azure-colored Esteran flag displayed above him on the wall. At its center, the banner bore a golden emblem in the shape of a lion’s head as well as a trio of stars underneath it. In this quiet room surrounded by shelves of books and portraits of famous military figures decorating its walls, the two mages were entirely alone. It wasn’t until Rune coughed into his fist, thereby shattering the uncomfortable atmosphere, did Major General Marx acknowledge his presence.
Fixing the collar of his uniform decorated with shimmering pins of gold, Marx started, “You know, Ransford, I’m beginning to wonder if it was wise to accept you into my bracket at all.” His smooth-sounding tone functioned little to conceal the mage’s underlying rage. Turning around to face him, Marx motioned for Rune to take his seat at one of the three chairs in front of his desk. “Your skills are undeniably astounding, especially for a mage so young. So inexperienced. Regardless, it means not that you’re exempt from following orders. You’re lucky I haven’t suspended you yet.”
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“I apologize, sir. I ask for your forgiveness.”
“My ability to forgive has grown arduous, Ransford. It has been for a while now.”
Major General Marx was an older fellow with slicked-back dark colored hair, a set of chocolate eyes, an angular face plagued with wrinkles, and a plump, lampshade mustache stuck underneath his nose.
They say he possessed strong magic and was highly regarded for his skills on the field. Sadly, Rune had not once witnessed the general craft a single magic circle, let alone open his tome. When he wasn’t shouting and reprimanding him, Marx would only ever remain in his office doing paperwork. From what Rune gathered based on the whispers and gossip of his fellow combat mages, Marx wasn’t necessarily his biggest fan. In fact, he was only even accepted into this bracket due to there being a low supply of active combat mages. Otherwise, Rune was more than positive he’d be banished without hesitation.
Taking his seat, Marx muttered, “In this past month alone, you’ve been reported for numerous accounts of insubordination. What have you to say of this?”
“Nothing at all, sir.”
“Hm, run out of excuses?” Marx removed his stare from Rune and applied it to the sheets of paper lying on his desk. “In regards to this Pygmy Vyper incident, First Lieutenant Fellman states you acted rashly and disobeyed a direct order. Is this true?”
“It is.”
“And what pray tell possessed you to do so?”
“As I explained to First Lieutenant Fellman,” Rune began. “I thought it was the right call to make. The Pygmy Vypers were already in the process of deserting their base. If I hadn’t done anything, they would’ve surely escaped, sir. Considering how dangerous they are, I couldn’t allow that to happen.”
“I see,” replied Marx, sitting forward in his chair. “Let me ask you something, Ransford. Do you believe it is befitting of a soldier of the state to disobey protocol so long as they obtain the results the government desires?”
Rune stared at his lap and grumbled, “Would you really blame me if I did, sir?”
The general sighed. “Nobody doubts your skills. Despite what others in this bracket may think, in my eyes, you’ve always been an exceptional combat mage. However, if you continue with this reckless behavior of yours it might result in the higher-ups dealing with you themselves. I presume you know what this entails, don’t you?” Rune gave the general a nod. “Then why not spare yourself such a hapless fate and follow your damned orders? I highly doubt I’m the only person here who’s grown tired of these constant meetings.”
“...I will keep your words in mind, sir.”
“That’s all I ask. Now, why don’t you call it a night, yes? Seeing as how the other mages are in a foul mood because of the stunt you pulled, I’d say this isn’t the best place for you to be at present.”
“Understood.” Rune rose from his chair, gave a salute, and started for the exit. However, as he was halfway out the door, the mage inquired, “Am I still allowed a leave of absence on the 24th, sir?”
“Denying you such a privilege would serve as a suitable punishment...though, I suppose you could use the occasion to clear your head.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied Rune, sending off another, grateful salute to his general.
“Off with you then. Oh, and be sure to give her my regards.”
“Of course, sir.”
Closing the door behind him, Rune started down the military base’s empty hallway. What he hoped for most was that he’d already experienced the worst the day had to offer. That he could merely retire to his personal abode and be gifted with the peace of a good night’s slumber. Unfortunately, fate was never so kind to him.
His next “annoyances” came in the form of four individuals Rune had never been on good terms with. Not at the academy and certainly not here. For when they spotted him, they wasted no time in broadcasting their disgust, especially their ring leader. Though, while some displayed their revulsion with scowls or glares, this mage, in particular, saw fit to brandish a crooked grin.
“Fellman’s throwing another of his tantrums. Figured this was your doing. What happened, accidentally set a school ablaze?”
“I did what I always do, my job,” Rune responded bluntly.
“If your ‘job’ is pissing everyone else off, then hat’s off to you.”
This snickering fool with wavy velvet hair and piercing blue eyes went by Lukas Forest. Much to Rune’s dismay, he’d known him ever since their academy days. He’d once assumed after graduating they wouldn’t be seeing much of each other but, as luck would have it, they were both assigned to the same mage bracket which meant he now had to deal with his antics on a daily basis. One shouldn’t be mistaken, however. It wasn’t as if Rune was intimidated by Lukas. In fact, Rune was fairly certain he could defeat him if they ever had a duel. But constantly having to listen to the idiocy he spewed as well as watching him act as if he were the strongest mage around definitely took its toll on him. Seeing as how news of the Pygmy Vyper incident had already spread throughout the bracket, Rune already knew Lukas inherited more than enough material to work with.
“Heard how the first lieutenant was a breath away from court-martialing you. Man, if only he had the spine. Coming to work without having to see your ugly mug sounds like a dream come true. Wouldn’t you agree, fellas?”
“I’d say! It would’ve made our lives a whole lot easier!” one of his boot kissers chuckled.
“You should do everyone a favor and get lost, Ransford! Can’t you see you’re damaging Mage Bracket 9’s reputation!” growled another.
“Now, now,” said Lukas. “I think we’re all missing the point. It was Ransford who ultimately bested the Vypers. In truth, we should be congratulating him rather than ridiculing him. On the other hand, I received the luxury of looking over the mission reports.” Lukas stepped closer to him, forcing Rune to stare up at his squinted gaze and dimpled grin. “Apparently, our intel wasn’t as accurate as we previously thought. Pygmy Vyper was strong though it hardly had as many magic users as the reports lead us to believe. But this didn’t stop you from laying waste to them, huh? With your fire powers, you could’ve very well killed some of ‘em. Hell, most of the sorry bastards have got so many burn marks the medical mages can barely make out their identities. Sure, they are thieves and killers but does that really mean we must lower ourselves to their level? For Ryas’ sake, Everburn, where’s your humanity?” Like a blade, Rune’s gaze sharpened. “What’s the matter? Thinking about murdering me too?”
The mage next to him snickered. “I wouldn’t expect any less from the son of the Crimson Traitor of Esteras!”
Instead of warranting their nonsensical notions with a response, Rune shoved past them with his head facing the floor and his mouth glued shut. Exhaustion overwhelming him, Rune continued his silent march down the corridor, tuning out the childish goating the mages flung after him.
Stepping through the base’s doors, Rune took a solemn glance back at the three-storied blue bricked building. The evening breeze gently graced the lonely courtyard, rustling not only Rune’s hair but also the twin flags atop the poles on either side of the cement pathway leading to the building’s entrance gates. During times like these, he often questioned if putting himself through the stress and discrimination was worth it.
But such a question could only be answered once he obtained the closure he craved.
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Rune lived in a small apartment complex in one of Ponsetta’s southernmost districts. It wasn’t the best the city had to offer though the low rent fee meant he needed not to spend as much of his hard-earned money as he would have had he chosen to settle someplace else.
Upon Rune’s arrival at the old building composed of tangerine, cracked stone, the moon had already taken up residence in the cloudless, dark blue abyss above. Its ethereal beams rained down onto the earth, illuminating the blackened environment with golden light. Rune’s own room was on the top floor of the complex, the mage using the remnants of his strength to climb its metal, shuddering stairway. Unlocking his front door with a silver key, Rune stumbled into his rather compact home with an audible groan. Without even flipping on the lights, he plunged inside which, as far as he could tell, looked the exact same as it did when he left early in the morning.
He discarded his military jacket and undershirt onto a nearby sofa, left his old, brown boots at the front door, and removed his pair of white gloves. As for his tome, Rune rested the orange-colored book onto a mirror table adjacent to his sloppily, unmade bed. Through the darkness, an empty gaze peered at his own, frozen reflection. Naturally, his attention gravitated to the part of him which had been unaffectionately exposed to the unbridled effects of malfunctioning magic.
Spanning from the tips of his fingers and hiking to the peak of his right shoulder was a hardened layer of charred skin. Unlike normal scars, his burn mark was as black as charcoal and littered with gaping fissures. According to the doctors and medical mages, there was no hope of it ever returning to normal. Such was the price he paid for failing to understand and control his magic at an early age. At first, he detested it and viewed it as a symbol of his inexperience. Now, it served as a reminder of the life he’d chosen to lead.
Lying in his bed, his body refusing to shut down, Rune spared a glance at the photo frame fixed on the lamp-table next to him. As much as he hated to admit it, Griffin was correct in his assumption. Those specific memories often resurfaced so they may hunt him, especially during high octane missions like the Pygmy Vyper case today. Even so, he could still form a small, if not malleable grin, as he stared at the picture. It displayed that of a smiling woman with flowing brown hair lifting a puny, idiotic brat of a child in her arms. An elderly man sat in a wheelchair and couldn’t be bothered to make even a fraction of a smile. There was also a tall young man with matching brown hair as his sister next to him. The four of them stood in front of a humble, two-storied house on a clear summer’s day. What he’d give to return to those simpler times void of blood and despair.
Friday makes nine years now, doesn’t it? Raising his scorched fist at the ceiling, Rune declared his silent pledge, “Just keep on waiting, you guys. I’ll deliver to you the justice you deserve.”
Without another word, Rune shut his eyes and drifted away.