Arryn

The three of us packed up our things and started walking back towards the city. Fyron just vanished, as he does, and Medea hopped on “Crusher” and flew off, leaving Wyll and I in somewhat awkward silence. Something felt different since that night in the alley, but I couldn’t put my finger on what. Wyll carried himself differently, and had this new, cold look to his expression that wasn’t there before. I was dreading seeing him again, thinking that that night was going to amplify the trauma from his accident with the fireball, but here he was. Completely fine, and somehow in greater control of his magic than ever.

It wasn’t jealousy.

I wasn’t thrilled that my apparently written-in-the-universe gift was for me to still not be able to use magic, that I’m some kind of super-mundane. When I pictured my future using this new kind of magic, I pictured something more like what Wyll seemed to have. Prodigious talent and immeasurable power. Maybe that was naive. I had never heard of an “antimage” before, and although it was far from what I wanted it did save me from Wyll’s explosion. The image of those men being reduced to red mist was still burned into my mind. I didn’t want to meet that fate. This new gift at least helped give me some security in this new, suddenly very dangerous world. Perhaps it would be helpful for whatever the company wants me to do in the Scarlet Woods.

As if reading my thoughts, Wyll spoke. “You know, I might end up seeing you out there.”

“Huh?”

“The Woods. My leave ends soon, and I’m hoping to be sent to meet with someone out there.”

“Huh. You feeling okay about that?”

“What do you mean?” Wyll cast me a wary look as he walked.

“I dunno man, just a few days ago you were terrified of that kind of spellcraft. I thought you were looking for Ron to help you get out of the service.”

Wyll smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m over it. I’m in control now.”

“Just like that? I’m glad you’re feeling better, but to be honest I’m surprised that you’re not doing worse.”

We had stopped now, the steady crunch of footsteps on the gravel path giving way to silence. It was dark out here, the only illumination being the distant iridescence of the buildings over the river, which reflected on the puddles scattered on the path. I could just about make out Wyll’s face as he fixed me with a glare.

“What are you trying to say?”

I sighed, exasperated. “Wyll, you killed five people. You may not remember, but I do. You ended five lives, left them as blood streaming down the walls, and Medea and I were nearly atomised too if it weren’t for some freak chance that I was able to block it. Does that not bother you?”

“Those people were attacking us, I saved your lives!” Wyll started to raise his voice.

“You were the biggest threat there! Now we’re all being hunted by the Peacekeepers! If I hadn’t stepped up we’d be dead. You haven’t even apologised for that.” The frustration that had been building up in me was now flowing out unhindered. “We were worried about you anyway. Medea spent all day walking around the city to find any sign of you still being alive. I thought for sure you’d just blown yourself up.”

“I have control of my power. I don’t regret what I did to those thugs, but I won’t let you two be caught up in it next time.”

“Next time? Are you planning on killing more people? Do you hear yourself?”

“Of course there will be a next time! We’re dealing with some dangerous people, and I want to be able to do something if and when that situation comes around again.”

“That doesn’t mean you can go around vapourising anyone you like!”

Wyll went quiet, looking at his upturned palm. A small vortex appeared there, a miniature version of the explosion the other night, spinning like a tiny galaxy. It gave off a faint light, illuminating his face from below, twinkling in his eyes. I didn’t like the look on his face.

“Only those who deserve it.” he said quietly. “We have the power now to do something great. If you don’t use what you have to change the world, you’re complicit in letting others decide its fate.”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“And what if what you and I want are different? What if I don’t want to change the world, just find my place in it?”

He turned his eyes away from the spell in his hand to look at me. He said nothing.

The moment extended longer than it should. Just him and I staring over the spinning whirl of mana. The light went from a background glimmer to the focus of my frustration. I don’t know what part of me I was reaching for, but like a phantom limb I pushed towards that light and snuffed it out. There was no fanfare or dimming, just a sudden plunge into darkness. The silhouette of Wyll said nothing, just stared at his hand dumbstruck.

I stormed off, leaving him alone in the dark.

---

Preparations had been made. Minion went gladly back with Ms. Joya, who congratulated me on my “exciting new post on the Red Frontier”. My suitcase was packed with as many clothes and essentials as I could fit, as well as a collection of scribing tools, parchment, and reagents. Half way out the door, I turned back around and remembered to grab my toothbrush. I was already in a bad mood after my argument with Wyll, and I took that out of my luggage as I strained to pull the zipper closed. Who asks their employee to drop everything on a whim and head out into unknown dangerous territory, just like that? The Three weren’t known for treating their lower-level employees well, but this was ridiculous.

Why me, for that matter? I had done nothing but scribe the same spells for years, and now I’m chosen for this huge new position? The branch in the Woods had better need a lot of Shape Stone scrolls because that’s all I could offer them. A dread tinged my thoughts - what if I was chosen for being the most expendable? The first canary down the mines? No. That was ridiculous. I wasn’t the first one over there, and Horizon doesn’t waste resources, minor as they may be.

Inside the Port Pod, I pulled the business card that Olivia gave me, and input the obnoxiously complex pattern described, that zigged and zagged all around the walls of the Pod and involved three separate parts where I had to hold my finger to the wall for exactly 22 seconds. Eventually, after a few failed attempts, the lights flickered and the door opened to reveal a bustling office. Nobody was at the door to greet me, so I took a moment to survey my new workplace.

The classic sterile white of Horizon still formed the basis of the space. The walls, ceiling, and floors were still the plain porcelain-like material, but within that space was a completely opposing jumble of desks, crates, bulletin boards, folding beds, scrying mirrors and a rack full of long, expensive looking evokers. People bustled about, carrying papers, talking into the scrying mirrors, or moving crates. One man was leaning over a map of what must have been the surrounding area, judging by all the red, and was measuring to specific spots before marking the map with a cross at several different locations. I was surprised to see an Elven woman here, though she was about as different from Medea as could be.

She wore a long beige poncho, threaded with beads that seemed to glow from within in various colours. Flora tattoos snaked up her arms and beneath her short sleeves, curling up from her collar and down the length of her long pointed ears. Her dark hair was buzzed short, with lines that almost resembling runework shaved in the sides. She was adorned in countless talismans, trinkets, and what looked like pieces of bark that hung from every part of her body.I didn’t know how her ears stayed up with that many piercings. There was a long, branching evoker hanging from her hip, which seemed to be going through the stages of the seasons within seconds. Green leaves turned orange and fell to the ground, then pink blossoms bloomed before falling too and being replaced by more green leaves. She was leaving a bit of a pile on the floor nearby.

“-I don’t care what he’s doing, your boss owes me an explanation now.” She bellowed at the man next to her. “Get him here before I hop in that Pod of yours and take my complaints to your head branch!”

The target of her ire was a man in the standard-issue horizon shirt and tie who looked like he wanted to retreat into it like a turtle. He adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses as if to center himself, and sputtered out “Miss Tuu’an please be patient, Mr. Tarlow will be here soon…”

Tarlow? Was he talking about me? Baffled, I wandered over, dragging my suitcase behind me and feeling very out of my depth. As I neared both man and elf looked at me like I had personally offended them.

“Who is this?” demanded Tuu’an.

“Erm, hello. Sorry I’m late, I didn’t know you were expecting me.” I said

There was a pause as both people gave me another strange look.

“Is this a joke? Who is this? Get me Mr. Tarlow, now.”

“Ah, I- I’m very sorry, I’m not sure who this is either.” the man stuttered. “Employee, this is administrative business. Get back to your desk. Now”. His tone was both outraged and desperate.

I had no idea what was happening. I began to turn to go find a desk, but found the courage to ask “I’m sorry, but you mentioned you were looking for Mr. Tarlow, and here I am…”

“What are you playing at? I’ll have you written up for this misdemeanor you-” the man’s voice was cut off by the sound of the Port Pod’s doors opening again. Everyone in the office seemed to stop and pay attention too, except Tuu’an who crossed her arms and tutted.

Emerging from the doors, like a pop star walking on stage, was a man with long, brushed back golden hair, good looks that were the product of countless highly expensive polymorph spells, and a tailored tan suit with no tie, unbuttoned to reveal a gaudy gold chain necklace with a pendant that spelled Archmage. He sauntered in, stopping to pull his sunglasses down and survey the room, before his eyes landed on me. A wide, crocodilian smile spread across his face, and he opened his arms wide.

“Brother! So glad you could make it.”