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WAKIAGARU
The Failed Mage

The Failed Mage

The failed mage walked straight through the front doors. He would have liked to have bought some new clothes first so the guards wouldn’t recognize him, but he had no coin, and he was still wearing his trousers and green tunic. They weren’t rags, but they hadn’t even been washed.

The guards at the door stopped him, asked him why he had been watching the front entrance earlier. Lawrence’s story was that he was looking for a guild to join. They laughed in his face and told him The Sable Adventurer didn’t take vagrants.

“I’m certain that you don’t,” Lawrence said, but do you take mages? He called forth enough of his energies to ignite the runes running across his forearms. They had visibly flinched and told him he could enter. So he did.

He surveyed the common room. It was nice enough, though a few steps from high class. There were adventurers everywhere, some talking or playing games, mostly dice. Some sat at tables, and all were served by scantily clad women of every race the mage had seen in town; humans, some local, some not, oni and cat eye women.

One approached him, a human-skinned oni woman with long horns. She looked him up and down. “I don’t recognize you. Been away for a while?”

“No,” Lawrence said. “I’m looking for work.”

She snickered. “Well, the guards must have seen something in you to let a fellow looking like this past the front doors.”

“Indeed.”

“Can I get you anything?” She asked the words seductively, placed a hand on her hip as she raised a platter of drinks in crystal glasses.

“You have any water?”

She laughed loudly, tilting her head back and showing the top row of her teeth. Unlike the cat eye, they were very human-like teeth. Lawrence took the opportunity to quickly glance at her womanly charms, though he doubted she’d mind had she saw him do it.

After composing herself she said, “Hmmm, you’re funny.”

He smiled.

When it was evident he had no more to say, she said, “Come find me after you’ve had a bath,” and walked off toward the bar.

Well, he thought, nothing more to do than to make a show of having a purpose.

He went over to the front desk. Apparently this was where they handed out assignments. Behind the cat eye at the front desk was a large board covered with missions that had been completed.

The failed mage knew how it all worked. He’d been in a few different guilds, but eventually struck out purely on his own after learning a thing or two about magic, though failing the vast majority of his studies, enough to get kicked out of the academy for being “Common trash not capable of learning proper magic!”

He approached the desk where the cat eye was surveying a large tome. Probably tasks and missions yet to be assigned to anyone. He slammed both fists down, not hard, but enough to get the “man’s” attention.

“What can a do for you, sir?” Like most cat eye, he spoke with a rolling purr on his Rs, and Lawrence didn’t even know how to describe what they did with their Ms. Or maybe he did…

Meow.

He put on a serious face to keep from laughing. “Ahem! I’m looking for work.”

They cat eye stared at him. This one had grey eyes and white fur. As if bored, he reached under his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and slid it across the countertop, his eyes quickly going back to his task as he muttered something about writing a letter of introduction before they would consider him for their guild.

Lawrence slapped an open hand over the paper and it immediately burnt into ash. “There’s my introduction,” he said. “Do you want me in your guild or not?”

The cat eye narrowed his eyes, but he was far too professional to display an overt level of surprise. “Yes,” he said forthrightly. He pulled out another tome and opened it up to a new blank page. On the other side were the names of new members put into the books. “Do you want the particulars before signing?”

“No.”

With a skeptical eyebrow, the cat eye said, “Write your name here.” He turned the book and slid it toward Lawrence along with an ink pot and quill.

Lawrence signed his name. Or at least, an approximation of his name that read Ecnerwal Kciwzac.

The cat eye took the book back, turned it over and looked at the name. He blinked a few times and then looked up at the failed mage suspiciously. “You want to play games, is that it?”

“I don’t understand,” Lawrence said dumbly.

The cat hissed at him. “I’ve traveled all over this continent, mage, and to a few others as well, and I’ve never seen a furless of your color with a name so preposterous. Even the spelling gives you away. This isn’t your real name!”

“You’re right,” Lawrence said, “it’s my name spelled backwards,” and with that admission he punched the cat eye square between the eyes.

The cat yowled, clawed at the air a few times as he fell back onto a small table with stacks of paper, making a mess everywhere.

The failed mage wasted no time. He pulled the surrounding energies from every candle and pipe in the common room and released it back out in a flurry of fireballs at the curtains and everything else flammable.

A commotion broke out, men and woman shouted and ran about, their silhouettes limned in the red-orange glow of multiple small fires already spreading about.

Lawrence dashed up the stairs, the cat eye behind the desk still yowling and snarling. “Get that man!” he yelped. “One-hundred Imperial Marks to whoever brings me his hide!”

He made it to the top of the stairs. A hundred? he thought. That’s a lot of coin! He looked about, wondering where Yoko Nakamura could be and realized she might not even be in their main headquarters. If they had stashed her somewhere else, he wouldn’t go looking for her. He wasn’t getting paid by the Nakamuras either way and he wasn’t prepared to sack every one of The Sable Adventurer’s outposts in this empire to find her.

She’s here, he told himself as he ran down the corridors. A more stealthy approach probably would have been better instead of a three man raid, but he didn’t have the patience for that right now.

A man rushed to the top of the stairs in pursuit. Lawrence back stepped to avoid his blade before kicking the man in the chest and sending him back down the stairs atop his comrades. His weight sent them bowling in a heap.

Where would they keep prisoners?

He ran to the end of the corridor and kicked the door in. Another large room, much quieter with lots of books. A nice desk at the back in front of the windows. He went behind the desk and rifled through everything, tossing things about. He couldn’t care less.

Peeking through the curtained window, he saw men out in the courtyard waiting for orders. He picked up the large ornate chair made of wood. It was way too heavy for him. He barely managed to throw it through the window. It shattered and the chair crashed onto the cobblestones, sending the four adventurers there into a fright.

“There he is!”

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An arrow flitted through the window, but Lawrence was well safe from its trajectory. Someone was rushing down the hall to the room. He went to the bookcase, picked up a solid book there and tossed it at the man coming into the room. The corner took him in the face, stunning him long enough for the failed mage to kick his foot out from under him. The adventurer fell, his sword arm slamming onto the wooden planks. Lawrence stepped onto his wrist and the Sable Adventurer cried out, releasing his blade.

Not a bad weapon—a one-handed short sword of well-crafted steal. Lawrence kicked the man in the face before stepping over him. Two more men were out in the hall about to rush the room, but the failed mage surprised them.

He closed the distance, slashing with his newly acquired sword with precise, deadly movements. He was more a swordsman than he was a mage.

The other men were not untrained louts however, and they parried his advances.

“We’re going to gut you,” the adventurer on the left said.

“Not if I fry you first,” Lawrence replied, and shot a fireball at their feet. They jumped back, narrowly avoiding the blaze that caught the floor on fire.

That would slow them down momentarily, so Lawrence turned and went down the hallway to the left, kicking in doors and giving the rooms cursory glances, not even bothering to walk in. If she was in one of the rooms, something would be amiss. Maybe there would be guards in the chamber, or she would scream for help, thinking correctly that someone had come to rescue her. Maybe.

After knocking in the doors of five rooms, startling the occupants of two, the failed mage began to doubt she was up here. Where is she?

Shouting accompanied the heavy footfalls of a large group of men nearing the room. Lawrence had to act fast. He could take two or three men. Maybe even four or five, if he tossed his dice right, but there were too many.

He decided to slip out the window. This room was empty, so he moved behind the curtains without pulling them back. This would conceal his exit. He shut the window behind him and hopped across the wooden beams jutting forth. He was still on the second story, so he grabbed onto one of the supports with his hands and dropped down to the first floor beams that were at roof height, which was about sixteen feet. Fortunately some crates stacked below him assisted in the Lawrence’s descent to the street.

He must have had twenty or thirty men searching for him on the upper floors as he made his way through the alley. He could hear them in the rooms above, shouting back and forth as they searched. He made sure to keep close to the base of the wall so they wouldn’t see him out in the street.

His heart was beating fast and he was now beginning to feel exhausted. It suddenly occurred to him that it might have been much more efficient to have simply captured the cat eye he’d punched between the eyes so they could make him tell them where Yoko was being held.

Shrugging, he took a turn and was back where he’d left Hitomo and Tomiichi, but they were inside now because they were nowhere in sight. He rushed through the back entrance and into the kitchens. The cooks were all gone, evidentially too frightened to stay behind after the two men went in, probably with their katanas drawn. When he got out of the kitchen, he found a body, a dead man with his belly slashed open.

It wouldn’t be long before reinforcements from the top floors arrived. It would take however long it took to search the top floors. Luckily there were a lot of rooms up there.

Back in the burning common room Lawrence found the cat eye and three more of his constituents dead, bloodied and curled up on the floor. One of them wasn’t dead, however. He moaned in pain, but Lawrence ignored him as he searched for the two Nakamuras. He followed the bodies into another room where he found a flight of stone steps leading into the basement.

If the two men were wrong about her being in the basement, this would have all been for nothing. Before he even reached the bottom he heard Hitomo shouting. “Iko! Iko!“

The old samurai came rushing toward the failed mage, his face covered. For a moment he thought the man would try to cut him down, his katana held high, ready for a killing strike.

“You found her.”

Tomiichi, panting, came up behind his father with Yoko in his arms. His face was also covered, though barely. The action they had sustained partly revealed his identity. Yoko had evidentially been beaten. But not too badly, otherwise she wouldn’t be sellable for a while, if ever.

“Make sure we get out,” Tomiichi said, nodding up the steps.

The failed mage turned and ran back up into the common room to find a group of men surveying the situation. They all had their swords drawn and Lawrence didn’t think he could issue another fireball. He didn’t have the energy for that.

Instead he surprised them, hacking into one man atop the shoulder with an expert slash that cut through his leather armor and wounded him badly. He cried out as blood spattered.

They tried to surround the failed mage, but he turned and backtracked, made his way to the administrator’s desk and jumped atop it. He kicked books at his pursuers as they attempted to surround him.

The room was filling with smoke. Lawrence coughed.

If only this sword had been a little longer, he would have cut a throat or two from his elevated position.

As he parried blows with the four men at the desk, none of them too eager to become another body on the corpse-strew rugs, the archer from before rushed through the front entrance.

It was a desperate move, but the mage had no choice, he jumped forward, his boots landing atop one of the men’s shoulders.

The man collapsed and Lawrence landed on the floor, his sword knocking dully out of his hand against the red rug on the floor. He rolled as blades came in for the kill.

Kicking and scrambling for his life, the failed mage pulled for whatever fire energy he could from his surroundings. It wasn’t much but sparks shot out of his hand as he scrambled back, giving his pursuers pause. They hesitated, giving him enough time to get to his feet and in a mad dash, jump through the window. The washi paper did little to stop him going through.

He rolled when he hit the street, his head knocking none too gently against the cobbles. He nearly fell as he scrabbled his way to his feet. Lawrence made to catch up with the other two men.

“There he is!” a Sable Adventurer shouted from atop the second floor through the window. “After him! He’s getting away!”

Lawrence dashed through the streets, jumped over food carts and spilling exotic fruits and wares. He ran into a shop and out the back. He could hear his pursuers behind him and he didn’t stop to look back. What would be the point? They either caught up with you and killed you, or they didn’t. There wasn’t any point looking.

He ran into the street, jumped out of the way of an oncoming horse-drawn wagon and fell atop a barrel, coins and dice flying everywhere as the group of gamblers shouted in surprise and anger.

A sword came at him, the dicers screaming now. The blade flicked past his face and chinked against the cobblestones.

The failed mage elbowed the man, but it barely stunned him, so he kicked him in the knee. His would-be killer cried out, grabbing at the wound as Lawrence whirled back to his feet, his breath coming in gasps. His throat was burning. His vision was throbbing, the edges going black. He stumbled along the road as the man he wounded shouted to the others, revealing his location.

Gritting his teeth, he pressed on, three more men entering the street behind him. He turned, saw them and continued running until he came along a bridge crossing the river.

He was too tired to keep running, so he hurled himself over the side. The current wasn’t strong, but not slow either. It would impede the men coming after him at least, because only two of them jumped in after him, their splashes not far behind as the third man kept to the street, following the current of the river, and him.

He wasn’t going to make it. No way to cast fireballs. He was too tired for that, besides, he was in the river. He kicked his legs, trying to gain speed on his pursuers.

He felt something tug at his boot heal.

“Come here, you whoreson!”

He kicked harder, trying to get away from the man grabbing at his heals, but the man caught him.

He was still gasping for breath, unable to escape.

The Sable Adventurer got a handhold, but Lawrence kicked with his other foot, his heal connecting with the oni’s forehead. The kick didn’t seem to do much, because his horns were in the way, preventing him from taking proper damage. But his head jerked about, so he kept kicking, his other pursuer right behind the oni, a man with a bald head. He wasn’t a good swimmer, so he was gaining on them slowly.

The oni made purchase on his other foot, pulled the failed mage toward him.

This is it, he thought. This is where I die!

He kicked, jerked, writhed, but the man pulled him inexorably closer until he had Lawrence in a vice mid torso. They both sunk, unable to properly swim.

Barely making the surface, the oni snarled, smashing his horned head into Lawrence chest. But they were sinking, the oni unable to get air, he released Lawrence. He kicked away, but now the other man was on him, grabbing at his forearm. He pulled Lawrence toward him, the oni now grabbing at his kicking legs for the second time, when suddenly a man from the riverbank screamed and fell into the water.

“Stop!”

It was Tomiichi, barking orders, but the men didn’t even seem to notice, until an arrow flitted past their heads and into the water.

The Commander was loosing arrows at them? Was he going to kill Lawrence while trying to save him?

The oni released him a moment later, evidentially aware that he and his Sable Adventurer companion were the targets. He kicked off and called out to the other man.

“Leave off, Ked!”

“I’ve got him!”

Lawrence was abruptly released and he kicked away, realizing the big bald man was floating face down, an arrow in his neck.

Tomiichi didn’t let anymore arrows fly at the oni as he made for the bank on the other side of the river.

Lawrence gasped, his heart hammering. He couldn’t swim anymore and simply rolled onto his back, sucking air as he floated.

He stayed like that for a time, until Tomiichi called to him. “What are you doing?!”

Finally, he kicked toward the bank and Tomiichi Nakamura grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him out of the river. He was still gasping, his throat completely parched. Every muscle in his body felt numb, and now his head was beginning to hammer. “My vision… is still pulsing.”

“Pulsing?”

“Like… gahh! …a maggot.”

“We need to get back.”

“I know,” Lawrence panted. “But… what are you… going… to do about The Sable Adventurers? Aren’t they going… to come after you?”

“Maybe,” Tomiichi said. “But we’re ready for them.”

“Ready for them?”

“I’ll explain when we get back, Mage.”

Lawrence nodded, rolled to his side and tried to get up. He couldn’t, so the other man hauled him to his feet. He was able to walk.