Fear emanated from the town.

Stilas planted his boot on a rock and gazed at the rubble. Looters were everywhere. People with power were bullying those without. Trash littered the streets. It hardly seemed like the stories of Earth that everyone in the Universe had been telling for two thousand years since the banishing.

Stilas’ boots crunched on broken glass as he walked into a department store. He shook his head as he looked at the counter. The register had been smashed and was lying on the floor. Someone had thought that grabbing paper was a smart thing to do. Stilas began flipping through the clothes until he found a denim jacket with a hood that would fit over his uniform. He slipped it on, zipped it, and flipped up the hood. A pair of wiry sunglasses finished his disguise. Seeing an Elf with red eyes would probably draw more attention than he wanted.

As Stilas headed back to the door he stopped and picked up a pen and placed it in the front pocket. It wasn’t that he needed one. Stilas just had a hunch that it would come in handy.

Stilas walked up the road. The smart people had all left the commerce area. And for good reason. All that remained were the looters and opportunists.

The cock of a shotgun froze Stilas.

“Gimmie your wallet.” A gruff voice ordered

Stilas put his hands up and slowly turned around. The boy holding the shotgun could barely be twenty years old. His face was dirty and his clothes torn, but his blue eyes, short blonde hair, and pretty boy physique told Stilas he was not used to having to work for anything. The boy was holding the gun sideways and nervously jabbing it toward Stilas.

Stilas reached up and gently took the pen out of his pocket. “I seem to have misplaced my wallet.” The Dark Mage clicked the pen, “But I can write you a check.”

“Check?!” The boy stepped closer and touched the end of the barrel to Stilas’ forehead, “You think anyone’s going to cash a check?”

The dark-haired Elf clicked the pen again, “Sure. You just have to know how to ask.”

“And how are you going to ask with your brains on the sidewalk?” The boy tightened his grip on the shotgun.

“Good idea.” Stilas clicked the pen a third time, “Move.”

The boy stumbled forward when the forehead wasn’t there to push back anymore. A smack echoed down the street as an invisible force drove the human into the pavement. Stilas walked up from behind and pressed the pen to the back of the boy’s neck.

“Don’t start a fight with someone stronger.” Stilas grabbed the shotgun and tossed it to the side.

“Please don’t hurt me, mister!” The boy pleaded, “I wasn’t really going to hurt you.”

Stilas wrinkled his nose as ammonia filled the air. A warm trail of liquid was escaping from the boy’s jeans.

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“Maybe I will let you go.” Stilas mumbled, “Besides, you’re only human.”

“Please!” the boy pleaded, “I’ve got a family!”

“You do?” Stilas took a small white marble out of his pocket, “Tell me more about your family.”

The boy trembled, “I’ve got a mother and three little sisters.” The boy’s eyes widened as Stilas grabbed his right arm and bent it back, “OWWW!”

Stilas ignored the scream and stabbed the boy’s arm with the pen.

Blood streamed down the boy’s arm and dripped onto the cluttered street. “What are you doing?!”

Stilas rubbed the marble on the boy’s arm. It drank up every drop it came in contact with, turning from white to light blue.

“What is that thing?” The boy demanded as he yanked on his arm.

Stilas called a small flame into his palm. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the bleeding stopped.

“OWWWW!” The boy cried, “I’m sorry! I’M SORRY!”

Stilas let go of the boy’s arm and dropped the marble into his pocket. The Dark Mage picked up the fallen shotgun, “Tell me more about this family of yours.”

The boy stared at the barrel of the gun. For a second Stilas thought the boy was going to pee himself again. Instead, the boy did something worse. He found some courage.

“Screw you.” The boy spat at Stilas’ boot.

“No thanks.” Stilas flipped the gun around and slapped it across the boy’s head with a solid whack.

The Dark Mage bent down and took off his right glove. The boy didn’t have much power, but every bit added up. He focused on the magic in his hand and drew a black X on the boy’s forehead. Once the mark was complete he sent the boy to the dimensional pocket.

All that remained of the altercation was the human’s clothes. There wasn’t anything except a thin leather wallet, but that was all he needed. Inside was the prize that told him where to go next. Printed on the boy’s driver’s license was the boy’s address.

Stilas looked across the street at a café. The ‘closed’ sign was brightly lit in the broken window. He walked across the deserted street and stepped over the glass to get inside. The Dark Mage walked through the minefield of toppled chairs and tables to the bar. An endcap next to the bar held a collection of handouts and pamphlets. He dug through them and tossed away one about vacation getaways and another about pleasure boats before he found a map of the city. He turned around and flipped the closest table upright and spread out the map on it.

It didn’t take long to find the street that the boy’s house was on. Stilas folded the map and placed it in his jacket pocket. Using a portal on a strange planet would be the best way to get around, but using magic like that could draw the attention of the Elders, or worse, his Dark Master friend. He hated having to do the bidding of another, but the Dark Masters were stronger than he was. Until he found more power, he would always be at the mercy of the Dark Masters.

The sound of a helicopter flying overhead warned him that the front might not be the best exit. He wove his way through the tables to the back door. If troops were already being brought in, then it was going to be harder for him to move around.

Stilas considered his options. If he got caught then he would have to fight an army. That thought didn’t scare him. He had enough magic on him to fight off a group of Elf soldiers, and humans were less of a threat. The problem was that using that much magic would definitely draw the attention of the Elders, and he didn’t have enough power to defend against them.

The sound of tanks and boots rolling up the street let Stilas know that the time to make a decision was shrinking. He clicked the pen as he sized up the back wall. It was a risk every time he used magic, but he had to get out. Gold lines of magic flowed out of the tip of the pen as he drew a circle on the wall. As the circle closed a blue portal sparked to life. He stepped through the portal and into a basement. Sounds of people yelling upstairs assaulted his ears.

“Time to add to my collection.” Stilas hummed a happy tune as he took off his gloves.