KOL
“Where the fuck are we?” I ask, looking around the building we’re now in. All of it is made of dark grey stone, like a castle. The room we’re in is large, but doesn’t actually contain anything. This includes windows or doors. “Real clever. What now? I go with you, or I don’t go at all?”
“Something like that.” She even has the nerve to smirk. “I would have loved to give you time to decide on your own, but with Neneah there, you might have died. Especially if you’ve injured her.”
“And what if you die? Would that take me back outside?”
Her smirk only grows. “You don’t have it in you. Look how far those bastards had to push you for you to push back.”
“I didn’t want to be a killer.” I take a step forward. “Now I am one. Another body won’t change that, so why the fuck not add it?” I start to raise my hand, but the witch inclines her head toward me, and I am sent flying across the room, as though an invisible hand gently grabbed me, then tossed me back.
“You have talent, I’ll give you that. Reaching into someone and snuffing out their light? No easy task. But an upstart is an upstart, and a master is a master.” She slowly walks toward me, pointing a finger at my head. I find myself incapable of moving. “The more powerful a magical attack, the more specific a weakness it has. Without the proper theory, you can’t defend from any of them. Right now, I’m controlling the blood inside you. I could make you choke yourself to death if I wanted to. You, on the other hand, would not be able to drain my life. I already know how to counteract death magic.”
Death? Is that what that was?
“What I want to know is why your body isn’t burned.” She gestures toward me up and down. “You are either an elemental or an abstract by nature. You used necromancy to drain the life out of those people, so you’re the latter. How did a necromancer get out of a fire unburned?”
“Healed my legs.”
Her eyes widen, the hold on me vanishing. “What?”
I stand up fully, thinking of ways to reach her. Maybe if there’s a knife pressed to her throat, she’ll be willing to let me out of here. “My legs burned entirely. Couldn’t feel or use them. And my back got broken. I healed it all.”
“Life magic?” the mage mutters. “Life and death at once? Oh that…. That is no regular gift. All the more reason for me to take you to the Council. Let’s go.”
“Why?”
“So you can learn magic.”
“Why do you give a shit if I learn it? I’ll never be your soldier. You have to know that by now.”
“Oh, I think you’ll do whatever it takes to keep a safe home. The Council can be that home. You’ve never had one, have you?”
And I never will. However, learning to master this could sure as hell make things easier. I might even be able to heal the thing growing from my body. “How long did it take you to learn?”
“Oh, just some, two, three hundred years.”
I stare at her, waiting for the punchline.
“What? Never heard of immortality before? Mages stop ageing once they hit their prime. I’d say yours will come in a year or two.”
That’s news. “I’m busy enough dealing with my own shit. Why would I get wrapped up with the Council?”
She starts pacing the room. “The world is not a kind place. You know that as well as anybody. Throughout so much of it, mages are discriminated against. Anything with elven blood is, really. Want to go through eternity being an outsider? Be my guest.”
I can’t help but scoff at her. “What the fuck would you know about being an outsider?”
“A thing or two.”
“Not as well as I, and I say it’s not so bad.”
Adrianne smirks. “You want to try that again? Maybe with more conviction this time?”
“Get me the fuck out of this place.”
“Only if you’ll join.”
Or if I tell you to join, then ditch you. “There have to be a hundred mages out there. Why are you so fixated on me?”
She leans forward a little, crossing her arms. “You’re a healer, Kol. Not a common gift. Not only that, but you can be a combat mage, too. A person being both as rare as a cerberus. You could do some serious damage one day.”
“Ah.”
“What?” She blinks a few times, like she’s trying really hard not to look annoyed.
“You don’t want me because you think I’ll be a valuable ally. You want me to make sure I don’t become a dangerous enemy.”
The witch chuckles, raising her arms. “You got me!”
“Yes, I think I do. See, if you think that, you can just kill me. But you’re not doing that. Oh, no. You even went out of your way to bring me back from the dead. If healers were so damn hard to find, people who can undo death wouldn’t be doing it so willy-nilly. I think you’re full of shit. I don’t think you revived me at all. I think I did that all on my own.”
She’s backing away as I walk toward her. “I relied on your power to bring you back, sure – but the deed is mine. Left to your own devices, you would have stayed dead.” She’s getting nervous. Must be thinking I might try to turn her cold, too.
“I accept.”
She stops moving, giving me a confused look.
“The invitation to the Council – I accept.” If a powerful mage like her is afraid of my power, then I definitely want to learn to use it. I’ll rip away this thing on my body, then find that little shit Dent and wring his neck. I definitely can’t do that now. His father has too many people in his employ.
“Swell,” mutters Adrianne, bringing her hands together, then separating them in a circular motion. She repeats this a few times, dust gathering around us. Once again, everything is dark, then white, then endless motion. This time, however, I feel like I’m about to hurl. So that’s exactly what I do once we reach our newest destination.
“Happens sometimes,” the mage tells me. “You’ll build up immunity to it. Now it’s time to get to work.”
I look up, and see we’re in an alley of some sort. I can tell by the shitty houses we’re still in Risya, so I guess she can’t just instantly take us to Albion. “The building beside us is a bathhouse. Go in and get cleaned. Leave the bill to me. I’ll go get you a… decent pair of clothes.” She can’t help but look me up and down as she says it, seriously tempting me into trying to poke her eyes out.
I don’t disagree I need a bath, however. Most of us from Relyka didn’t have baths, and had to do it in the nearby creek, which often made our skin freeze over with how cold it could get, so we never bothered. When you’re surrounded by horse and cow shit, it’s hard to notice whether or not the people around you reek.
But I am noticing it now. The air here is so clean and fresh, yet there’s a certain stench gripping it. I am that stench.
So I march through the front door of the establishment and walk up to the man standing by the counter. “I’d like to take a bath, please.”
“Right this way, sir. Will that be a private-”
“Private, yes.” Never public. Even back home, I had to bathe at night to prevent people from looking at me. No one wanted to get into the same water as me, thinking I might spread my disease. Private is best.
The man leads me to a decent-sized room, in the middle of which is a square tub, water already inside it. And there’s steam everywhere. Seriously? Hot water? I’ve never… touched it before.
“If you would like to rinse yourself off first, you may use the shower.” The man is making a face as he points to a small, round, metal device in the corner of the room, beneath which the floor is lowered a bit. There’s a drain there, too.
Do I really smell that bad? Is it normal for air to be as fresh as it is here? I guess it doesn’t matter. If Adrianne is paying for it, I’m taking all the baths I can.
The man leaves me alone, so I get out of my worn-out clothes, tossing them into a pile on the floor. I approach the shower, but have no idea how to open it. Do I just touch this? Ah, I turn it.
The water is warm as it slides down my body, and I immediately feel like I could fall asleep here. Damn, this feels good. It’s like my body is relaxing on its own. I can’t even remember the last time I was relaxed in any capacity.
There are bottles of something on a small shelf right next to me. Is that soap? Dent always smelled like it. Actually, his was different – kind of flowery. There are a few of them here. Definitely don’t want flowers. Honey? I don’t think so. Lemon? That…. That could work.
I use the soap to wash myself entirely, from my hair to my toes. Once I’m done, I walk over to the bath… only for someone to knock on the door. Great. Did my time run out?
“Hurry it up,” Adrianne calls out. “We need to get moving.” The door begins to open, and a hand reaches into the room.
I throw myself into the bath, making a splash across the floor. I bang my knee and ankle on the edge, but manage to get fully in before the bitch can enter.
“Private room!” I yell once she’s fully in. “Private fucking room!”
“Oh, don’t be such a prude.” She waves me off, holding several pieces of cloth. “We’ll be bathing in rivers and lakes while we’re travelling through nature. We’re bound to see each other naked eventually.”
“Not if I can bloody help it. Get out.”
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The witch frowns, propping a hand on her hip. “Really? You aren’t the least bit curious about what a girl looks like naked? ‘Cause something tells me you haven’t seen it before.”
“As a matter of fact, I have.” Granted, it was an accident, and I got publicly flogged for it. “Not get the fuck out.”
“Hmm. Could it be? Are you…?”
“Get. Out.”
“I already assumed you were a virgin,” she mutters, more to herself than anything. “But could you be, um, how to put it….”
“In ten seconds, I’ll start trying to kill you. Get the fuck out.”
“Do you prefer men?”
“I don’t prefer anybody.” I think. I’m not sure. I’ve sort of had bigger things to worry about. “Now get the fuck out so I can get dressed.”
Finally giving in, the witch leaves. There are a few towels on one of the racks on the wall, thankfully still dry, despite the earlier splash. I put the clothes on, a bit confused about the choice. Bandages? Why do we need-
Oh. To cover up the thing. I see. Actually not bad thinking.
I wrap them around my chest, neck and left arm, then put on the black everything. Seriously? If we’re trying not to stand out, maybe don’t make me as dark as night. A tight black shirt that perfectly exposes how skinny I am, pants to match, and a black coat over it all.
I leave the bathhouse, the clerk not asking me to pay, which means Adrianne must have already done it. She’s waiting for me outside, leaning against the building. “Feeling better?”
“No.” Yes, but I’m not telling her that.
“I see that you are.” Shit. “One more stop, then we can properly begin the journey.” She starts walking, and I follow. It takes us a bit to get there, but the place we reach is some sort of artistic shop, the isle filled with masks, ribbons, shawls and other stuff.
“What the fuck do we need from this place?”
“Mages aren’t accepted throughout most of the world. And yet, when we’re attacked, we must defend ourselves. If we did it openly, our faces would become known. There’d be wanted posters everywhere, offering up quite large bounties. To prevent this, each mage wears a mask.” She walks into the shop like she owns the place, slamming the door open. “Yo, Jamal! Get your lazy ass in here!”
She might try to present herself as a lady, but I have a sneaking suspicion she grew up in an even more hick-infested place than Reyka. Might even have an accept in her native language. Lord knows it wouldn’t be surprising.
A dark-skinned man wearing his hair in a bun walks into the store from behind. He’s almost as thin as I am, and wearing a suit. Those glasses don’t exactly make him seem more intimidating, either. He’s got an apron on, colors splashed all over it. “Damn, you actually got him.” The man offers me his hand. “Jamal. I’ll be your maskmaker.”
“Kol,” I respond, not accepting the handshake. “I have a touch thing.”
“Got’cha.” He turns around, walking by a row of mannequin heads, each one wearing a mask. “These here are your average masks, but hey won’t be helping you much.” Why the hell not? “Can’t really fight properly if you can’t see squat. I’ll be making you one out of visicite.”
“But that’s…. That’s see-through?”
“That’s the idea.”
“But then won’t everyone just see through it?”
He gives me a wink. “Not if I dye it. One small bit of magic in your eyes, and you’ll be able to see through it, but everyone around you will just see the mask.”
“So other mages will know who I am?”
He waves off my concerns, taking out a box with all sorts of materials – scissors, bits of wood, paintbrushes – the works. “You don’t have x-ray vision. The paint will be close to your eyes, so you’ll be able to ignore it. Other mages won’t know any more than regular folk. Well, I guess unless they get really close.” He takes the chair from behind his desk, brings it to the middle of the shop, then gestures for me to sit on it.
Once I’m in it, he starts measuring every bit of my face – the length, width, my nose, ears, lips, forehead, cheeks – he somehow measures it all using only his fingers, not an actual measuring tape.
“Got any preferences?”
“What?”
He leans in a bit too close, causing me to lean back and almost fall out of the chair. “Likes and dislikes? Favorite color? Any animal you like?”
“I like sweet food and horror novels. Black. Most animals.”
“I… see. How very unspecific.” He tapes his cheek with a thin brush a few times. “What’s with the bandages? Adrianne hurt you already?”
“I don’t hurt all the new recruits,” the witch says from somewhere behind me. “He’s got a thing he’s hiding. A curse, I think.”
“Oh, my. Let’s have a look-”
“Only if you welcome death.”
Jamal’s hand freezes mid-air, a nervous smile on his face. “Right then. I think I know what you remind me of. How’s a cat sound?”
“Fine.”
“Maybe a dog?”
“Fine.”
“Eggplant?”
“Fine.”
The maskmaker sighs, hanging his head low. “You’ll go along with anything if it’ll get you out of here, won’t you?”
“Yep.”
“Fine, then. I’ve got just the one for you.” He walks back behind his counter, pulls out a perfectly blank white mask, and throws it at me. It doesn’t have eyes, a mouth, or any design at all. It’s pretty light, too. “Good enough?”
“It’s fine.”
Jamal roughly points to the door, looking at the mage behind me. “Get that philistine out of here.”
“You sure ruined his day,” Adrianne says as we leave the shop. “Mal’s been looking forward to this for weeks now.”
“You’ve known about me for weeks, then?”
“Not you, but a mage around here.” She twirls her fingers through the air. “You must have used magic unconsciously a few times, because we could feel it. Always happens when a new mage comes into their power. Yours had a particularly bitter taste. Felt like biting down on a lemon. Speaking of; Why do you smell like lemons?”
“Because I frequently stuff them into my pockets. Where the hell are we going?”
The woman takes my mask and puts it into the satchel her cloak is concealing. “Don’t want people noticing this just yet. And we’re going to run a few errands. Normally, getting rookies to Albion safely is a priority, but there are a few things happening in Risya that can’t be ignore anymore, so I’m afraid you’ll be coming with.”
The journey is not really a fun one. It’s not difficult or anything – just boring. We go through the forest, eating nothing but the food she’s got packed in her tiny satchel. We have to sleep in the forest for the night, pretty much ruining the whole point of taking a shower.
At some point in the middle of the night, I hear footsteps, and immediately jump to my feet. Adrianne is stirred by this, too, looking around with wide eyes. “What? What?”
“Someone’s watching us.”
“You saw them?” She gets up, stretching her fingers. “Where?”
“Heard footsteps. Someone’s hiding behind the trees.”
The witch groans, sitting back down. “It’s probably just an animal. Go back to sleep.”
“It’s not a fucking animal. Those were boots.” I’ve had people sneak up on me in my sleep enough time to recognize the sound. “If you don’t come out, we’ll burn the whole forest down.”
I feel something hit my chest, and look down to see the blank mask falling into my hands. “If you’re gonna fight, wear that.”
Ugh, fine. I put the damn mask on, then continue to look around. Finally, a man emerges, wearing a similar outfit to mine, making his outline hard to determine. Like me, he’s also tall, thin and black-haired. His eyes are darker, though, and he’s definitely prettier. And I do mean pretty. He’s not handsome, just beautiful, in a way a woman might be. Of course, him having dark skin – not nearly as dark as Jamal’s, but darker than mine – is what really sets us apart. Doesn’t really take away from the similarities. Kind of feels like looking into a distorted mirror.
And he’s wielding a sword. Great. All I’ve got is a dagger. Not like I know how to use magic all the time.
“Fancy meeting you here,” the man says with a smile. “That mask is super ominous, by the way. You should really take it off. Might frighten any poor children who stumble upon you.”
“Leave or die.” I pull out the dagger, but try to keep it hidden behind my coat.
“Scary.” The man shrugs, taking a stance. “How about you give me all your cash instead? I’m a bit down in the dumps, you see. Really could use a spa day.”
“Not happening,” Adrianne comments, still lying down. “Beat him up.”
The man comes charging toward me, sword held high above his head. I start running around immediately, bringing him to a halt, after which he lowers the blade. Yeah, I thought so. A skinny guy like that can’t possibly carry a big blade for very long. I know I can’t. I tried. He’s no professional – just a punk who stole someone’s sword. Even I might be able to win this one.
I run up to him, throwing a punch before he can get the blade up again. It gets him in the shoulder, since, surprise surprise, I’m not a good fighter. He gets pushed back a bit, then raises the sword as I swing again.
I end up punching the blade, cutting up my knuckles. Fuck! Holy shit, this hurts!
“Clumsy.” The man chuckles. “Seriously, what is up with the mask? Totally creepin’ me out here.” He swings the sword as I jump back, misses, and gets taken by the momentum, whirling around until he’s down in the dirt. At the same time, I trip on a rock and fall on my ass.
“This hurts to watch,” Adrianne mutters. “Maybe you should both stop. At this point, you’ll both just die of embarrassment.”
I get up, staring down at my fist. It’s already healed. Alright, then. I guess magic isn’t that hard, after all. Doesn’t matter if he has a bigger weapon. So long as I keep healing, I’ll win.
He’s clearly noticed the lack of cuts, too. “You’re a mage?”
“Yup.”
“But that’s not any mask I’ve heard of before. Which one are you?”
“I’m not just gonna give you my name, asshat.”
Adrianne interjects. “He means your mage name! All mages get one, based on the mask they’re wearing. Neneah’s is Drake. There are Lion, Titan, Octo – you get the point.”
“You-” The stranger points at me. “-have nothing. Oh, I know! That can be your name! Nothing!”
“I don’t care.”
“So Nothing it is!” He lunges, and I decide to do something risky. I throw my free hand out, grabbing a hold of his blade. It cuts into my palm and fingers, drawing a hiss from me, but I’m able to push it away and lung with my dagger.
I’ve never stabbed anyone before. Here it goes. It can’t be hard, right? I’m already a killer, and that didn’t affect me much. Yeah…. Just…. Just stab.
I get him in the abdomen, which makes his black eyes pop. He lets go of his sword, taking a few steps back, the dagger still in him. He touches his wound, then stares at the blood, nothing but shock on his face.
“Rude.”
Yanking the dagger out, he throws himself at me, twice as fast as before. I try to dodge, but he manages to open a gash on my upper arm, then one across my hip. I bring my arms up to defend myself, but he ends up stabbing through them, pinning them to one another. My entire body begins to scream in pain as he lifts a lanky leg all the way up to my neck, giving me a hard enough kick to fracture bone.
As I fall to the ground, my body goes numb. I feel a perfect sense of ease as the pain fades away. For a moment, I’m cold, then hot, then nothing. And then I’m back to normal, my neck popping back into place as I stand up.
The man is staring down at me with cold, unfeeling eyes. “Now, that’s just not fair.” How is he still standing? The knife wound-
Is gone. He healed it. This bastard’s a mage, too. What is his game here, then?
I hear a soft giggle from behind him, and the man takes a step to the side, revealing a small figure wearing a white cloak and hood. From what I can see of their body, they’ve got bandages all over themselves. A white mask painted like the skull of Santa Muerte is poking out from beneath the hood. Whoever they are, they can’t be more than five feet tall. A child, maybe?
“That’s enough, Mister Akkei,” the little girl says, her voice soft and high-pitched. “It’s time to go back.”
Adrianne is suddenly standing beside me, staring at the girl. “You are Gypsy of Liberius. What are you people doing here?”
“What we do everywhere,” the man replies, holding up two fingers. “Fightin’ for peace and justice.”
Adrianne extends her arm, and the man’s body begins to contort in painful ways. His arms are forced far behind his back, to the point of almost snapping out of their sockets. Then he’s forced to get down on the ground, his legs also curling up, until he’s nothing but a man-ball.
Nothing is happening to the girl, though, who simply giggles. “A few villages back, we ran into some funny rumors.” She’s suddenly gone. When she next speaks, it’s from behind us, causing us both to whirl around. “A mage just came into his power there, cold-heartedly killing three people at once.” She disappears again, despite not doing anything, then speaks from right next to me. “I checked the corpses, and can conclusively say necromancy was involved.” Adrianne strikes out with her arm, but the girl vanishes again, and I suddenly feel a weight on my shoulders as a pair of legs dangles off of them, tiny hands grabbing me by the hair. “Life as a rebel mage is hard. It would be better if the Council trained you for now. Once a few years have passed, come find us again. You’d do well in Liberius.” I raise my arms to get the girl off, but she disappears, and is kneeling beside her comrade. She gives him a knock on the head, and he is able to move again, stretching himself out as he gets back to his feet.
“Normally, I don’t mind being bound, but at least buy me dinner first.” He gives Adrianne a wink, then takes a step back, the little girl extending her hand toward me.
“Just to make sure you don’t slack off, I’ll be reporting you to the Magefinder Association. I’ll even take the honor of giving you your true name.”
The man behind her pouts. “I already-”
“From here on out, your name will be Faceless.” The man sighs as the girl chuckles. She leans to one side, waving her bandaged arm. “See ya in a bit, rookie.” With those final words, they both disappear.