2)

Martin- Also far from home

Cory, the elf, gave me a blank look and glanced outside.

“Uh, me and my posse," He gave double finger guns to the other two elves "Were doing our patrol of the shifting lands, and we found your store, and they were all like, "it's a trap", and I was all, "you ain't Akbar", and while they were busy being confused I made a run for some sweet, sweet, Peanut Crunchies. Then when I came up to pay you were lying there taking a nap."

He nodded consolingly “Sorry I had to wake you up dude.”

So that told me nothing, “Yeah, thanks Cory, but how did the store get here, I know the shifting lands are supposed to be unstable but they shouldn't have pulled anything down from Earth.”

He nodded cheerfully. “Yeah it’s all kind of freaky, but I got no clue dude, it did however, work out good for me." He held up four snack filled plastic bags my boss had gotten from a gift store that had gone out of business.

One of the other elves spoke up. "If you are indeed unaware of how your shop ended up here merchant? I assure you that it seems stable enough to present itself as part of the dominant layer and as such presents as a safe ground that will be welcomed by all Edge walkers. It seems a good location for your business.”

“Not really my first plan? Martin Thibedeau by the way.” The elf took my hand after a brief hesitation. “Call me Tyrin and behind me is my sister Becca, but you should call Prince Corwin your highness.”

The prince in question looked up halfway through an Oatie Creamcake. "Mmmhted, cool it with the prince stuff. I've known Marty for years. He's cool."

But not well enough to know I still hate being called Marty. Hearing him spout out the words Party-mart Marty once had been more than enough.

...Oh shit, I did this.

Some twit had panicked while robbing the store and shot me. When I tried to heal myself, my condition, the so called Magebane, shuffled around the symbols and transformed my spell array into some random pattern. Just as it always did with anything more complex than a child training spells.

At least the spell had healed me... And the hole in my shirt. And removed the bloodstains all over me... And the blood on the floor.

The very clean looking floor with an unbroken tile on the same spot where the chipped one that I was always tripping on was normally at. in the brand new looking store, with fully working lights on in the middle of an otherworldly wasteland that would not traditionally be equipped with electric lines to power those very same lights.

Just what all did my spell do?

“Thanks for the snacks dude, catch you on the flip side!’

I waved in reflex as Cory, sorry, the prince headed out along with the two siblings. Then I reflexively said. "Thank you, come again."

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I pulled up my shirt to examine my bullet wound free stomach and smiled. Despite anything else it may have done, for once, just once, a spell of mine above the level of a simple cantrip had done what it was supposed to do.

Donovan- Dying on the floor of the Party-mart, in hell.

I could distantly hear someone getting excited about their cup filling up with what they were calling "Ice cool sweetness" as I slowly died on the ground. The pain had stopped at about the same time I saw my heart on the floor in front of me go still.

After that, everything just started going cold, my vision began to go dim, and my eyes began to slowly close.

Then my whole body jerked as the pain just started up again, my eyes went wide as I saw two clawed scaly feet standing in front of the pile of crumbling ash where my heart had been.

I still couldn't do more than twitch as two bullets covered in dark blood dropped down from above to clatter off the tiles.

“Interesting.” sounded off my killer’s voice as he walked up to the front door. “The fallen shards of glass from the windows are melting and the glass is regrowing to fill the frame.”

The feet walked up to me again, casually stopping on the now dusty spot where my heart had been. “Four shots hit the glass and the five you put in me adds up to nine bullets, from a revolver that should only hold six.”

The sound of a straw sucking up as much air as flavored ice came from above me. “Your heart is regrowing too, looks pretty painful... “ I began to flop around on the ground. Trying to suck air back into my torn up lungs. While getting to feel all the pain I had missed the first time from having my heart suddenly torn out as it now slowly grew back.

The voice belonging to the feet spoke up again. "Good."

He walked off, back to the Frozey machine. "I'm not paying for the drink or the refill. Down here if you aren't strong, your betters will take what they want.”

“Interesting as all this is, I won’t take your store, or you.”

He squatted down low enough for me to see his face grinning above a monster-sized Frozey in its hand. "But next time, just invite me in.”

The door closed behind him with a tinkle of bells as I was finally able to breathe in again, and I could finally begin to scream.

Then a rock appeared above me in a flash of cold blue light and clocked me in the head before everything went dark.

I wasn’t lucky enough for it to knock me out, it just left me alone, screaming in the dark.

Cassy – Standing on the edge of a portal to hell.

I looked down to where my lithoglyph had vanished “Okay, so that happened.”

I was most likely looking at an unstable hole in the 'brane between my layer of reality and somewhere in the Umbral Realms or even lower. Messing with it could just as easily make it larger, smaller, or rip a tear in space and time itself.

I hated it when that happened. Besides the danger, there were so many forms involved.

I watched my boss as she tossed pieces of asphalt into the pit muttering things like “Do it again.”, “Must be a sweet spot.” and “No whammy, no whammy.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose “Ah, boss. Maybe we should do something more constructive, like talk to the owner of the store across the street since it has a camera aimed this way.’

My mentor looked up with a distracted look then grinned. “Khalid’s? Yeah, I asked him to keep an eye on what my nephew was up to, and you know djinn, he was happy to grant my wish.”

"Yeah, I know boss. You dumped all the reports on me.’ I started heading across the street.

Natalie gave me a dismissive wave with a pfft sound, before turning to her bodyguard. “Johanson, call the office and have them place a four man 24-hour watch on the place. Then get my ward stones out of the trunk, the big ones.” Then she began running along on her little legs to catch up to me. "It's your assignment so I'll let you charge up the stones."

"Thanks..." Lithoglyphs were only as good as the enchantment on the stones. The skill or power of the activator meant nothing so the privilege of activating them just meant I would be draining my mana pool instead of my boss draining hers.

Typical Thibedeau.

Well, questioning a witness was a sort of a ritual, or at least years of cop shows had made it one. Because the more often people repeat a ritual, the more efficient it is in turning the trace elements of chaos and unaligned mana in the air into something my type of mage can use safely.

Ever wonder why you have to jump through so many hoops to get anything done with the government or any large company? Congratulations, you've been refining mana for the use of the secret masters of the world.

At least as the agent in charge, I get the first shot at it.