Cabal in the Capital (Ms. Fortune, Tim)

Tim knew more about dirt cheap motels and a select few training centers in Crocus than actual landmarks. Even as a frequent visitor, his trips within the capital usually consists of a few-hour-bus ride, a quick nap in the company booked motel, another few hours doing the actual purpose (usually seminars inside the aforementioned training centers) then finally going back home. The only few exceptions were when Tim renewed his licenses, and that one time he got his passport. He never gotten an opportunity to let the city speak for itself.

And boy was he glad it took this long for him to do so.

The news outlets that reached Hargeon didn’t seem to mince much about how the capital felt. It was a city that would look at its new arrivals and roll its eyes. It was a city where the senile met the young and the brash, a city where the speed limit hasn’t changed for the better part of the century. Old white stone and brown-tile roofed buildings witnessed grayer, duller, newer ones grow and tower over them tenfold, and both were justling for space to accommodate its competitive residents and visitors—not rudely, but completely uncaring—in its ways to cannibalize competition. Green parks and graveyards numbered so few that could be counted with one hand were noticeable blemishes to this city of cement and metal. It was a city filled with people in every manner and kind.

Tim was taking all of it in as he weaved from the wayside then back into the packed sidewalk. Carefully, he checked out his iLac. “This is the block…”

Tim pulled his faded brown duffle bag closer as he walked into the entrance to an alley. There were already a thicket of people forming over the alley. Tim adjusted his flat cap and, with a huff, scooted between the peanut gallery.

“Watch it, pal!” Tim heard a woman complain.

“Ah, ‘scuse me.”

“Move over— holy hell, he’s tall…” There were a few people who just let him scoot aside.

“Mind letting me through?”

“You with the city guard or something?” And some were the nosy, gossiping type.

“…or something.”

Tim realized he was at the mouth of the alley when a firing line of reporters were the only thing between him and two city guards keeping outsiders from entering the alley. Their cameras flashed, forcing Tim to narrow his eyes just to be able to look clearly at one of the guards.

“We won’t be giving any statements at this time!” The older looking guard shrugged.

“Not even off the record.” He sharply added after one of the reporters raised their hand.

Tim gently pushed himself between two reporters, as gently as he could without sending the two flying. “Officer Summerset?”

“Who’s asking?” Tim leaned forward, pulling his jacket and shirt over his shoulder slightly, to reveal his guild mark. “You’re the one from Silver Wolf, huh…”

Summerset nodded at the other guard. The guard lifted up the black and yellow warning tape letting Tim duck under it. There was a slight rustle among the peanut gallery, from the reporters especially.

“That guy’s a wizard?”

“Silver Wolf… the one up the mountains?”

“They’re hiring independent wizards now?”

Tim could feel Officer Summerset’s head forming a migraine at the reporters gossiping knowing what sort of story they’ll be able to spin this time. But he opted to let out a hard sigh instead, a cloud of mist forming in front of him. “Follow me.”

Tim nodded and adjusted his duffle bag and flat cap.

“I gotta be honest, kid.” He scratched his bearded chin. “You look like you’re straight out of a woodworks shop.”

Tim’s soggy black jacket still had the golden color label ‘Rollins & Schwartz Co.’ plastered over the back, though it was now faded. His azure jeans had its wear and tear from his days in the docks and his steel-toed shoes were scratched so much anyone could see a slight metal shine when it’s just the right angle. His only fresh-looking clothes were his white dress shirt and flat cap, the reason being the shirt [was] new and his flat cap was dry-cleaned on the regular.

Tim huffed out a laugh.

“Never came around to buy some more wizardy-looking gear?”

“Like a pointy hat?”

“Close.”

“Never found the time.”

The officer huffed, Tim couldn’t tell if it was an approving one or otherwise.

The two finally stopped over the middle of the alley. There were barely any exits between the two entrances from the sidewalk. The two buildings that formed the alley was an old stone three-story and a ten-story complex that, apparently, was still only a year old. There were entrances into the buildings themselves, but there were no reports of break-ins, nor any signs of anyone using magic to squeeze through. There were also no witnesses, that is, nobody heard anyone outright scream ‘bloody murder!’, though no one could really differentiate the usual screams of crazy hoodlums and thugs between an actual emergency too.

“So, no one really saw it happen?” Tim frowned.

Over the wall of the newer building, there was a machine the size of a briefcase whirring over a bloodstained section of the wall, the dried blood was splattered over to one side and a dried-up pool of it was on the floor. On top of the bloodied scene was a slightly pixelated body. They were both looking over the holographic outline. It was laid out completely straight. The hologram projected a man about the same age as Tim, but not as fit. He looked like a child from how chubby he was and the fact he was already lifeless let his flabby cheeks and arms plop over the ground. It was the look of a drunk. Tim would have found it funny too, if it weren’t for the fact the front of his neck was ripped open. It was a clean stroke too, even from the hazy hologram he could see how well the murder weapon had cut through the poor man.

Tim took a good look of the hologram, then Officer Summerset handed Tim a book sized iLac that had the transcripts they took from witnesses and the ones from similar cases since the last few days. This looked bad. Beyond the ones seen on the news and some crime series his co-workers would put on, Tim had never seen an actual crime scene. And from the files the Officer handed to him, it looked like whoever did this hasn’t even been identified yet.

“Damn.” He let out a breath. “I think I’m out of my element here…”

“That’s hardly something a specialist the force hired should be saying, kid.”

“When you guys put ‘help apprehend the killers’ on the guild boards, I expect to assist on a man-hunt. Not an investigation!”

“So, what, we’re on the deep end just because of a misunderstanding?”

“I’m saying this won’t be a walk in the park…”

“I just hope the other one isn’t as unreliable as you.”

Tim quirked a brow at that. “Other one—?”

When a girl about a meter shorter than Tim popped out of thin air, both he and the officer were visibly surprised. If it had been a surprise attack by the culprit, the enemy would’ve landed a solid blow before he could react. He really needs to remember the fact he has a little something called magic sensory. Shaking his head at himself, he quickly landed his attention to the newcomer. She quipped about having to play nice and promptly called herself as the ‘other one’.

Also, she was really bubbly.

The way she greeted with a breezy, longwinded ‘hey’ reminded Tim of a very specific group of women that hang round the hargeon docks during long nights. The thought was equal parts nostalgic and embarrassing, thinking of such things in a time like this. But could you blame the guy? She wasn’t running for Saint of Chastity anytime soon, or at least, not with her present outfit. It was a two-piece black outfit with purple stripes and— that would be the extent Tim wanted to observe without making himself looking like he was checking her out. Though he did notice the knee-high platform boots before he stopped.

She locked her mismatched sapphire and emerald eyes at him as she introduced herself as Nita.

“An easy name to remember to match a pretty face.” He answered in an equally charming smile as he shook her hand. “Wil. Wil Summerset. Glad to have you as a partner in this case, doll.”

He quirked his brow with a 'really?' at the officer sliding between him and the newcomer. But Tim managed to huff out a laugh at the older man’s attempt at flirting. Finally noticing him, the officer gestured Tim’s way. “Oh, and this here's the hired help...uh—”

“Tim.”

“Tim!” Wil flicked his finger, as if he remembered the name himself. “Tim’s here to assist you in the case, as well. Anything you need though, I’m just a holler away—”

“Sir!”

Officer Summerset’s eyelid twitched as he saw the lone officer over at the mouth of the alley doing a poor job keeping the reporters at bay. He excused himself, muttering ‘damn rookies’ as he howled at the few people scaling over the hazard tape.

Nita asked about the incident and Tim handed her the officer’s book sized iLac containing the witness testimonies and the preliminary autopsy. “From the way Officer Summerset spoke, between us you’re the lead investigator in this ‘won’t be a walk in the park’.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Tim finally answered her greeting, giving her a slight smile.

But now that the introductions are out of the way, the young man cleared his throat before looking down again at the hologram. “To answer your question, boss...”

“Long story short? It’s a lock-room mystery out here in the open.” He began. “Most, if not all, of the witnesses only heard a noise that may or may not be the act itself. These two building’s internal magic sensors didn’t even beep once and the city street surveillance didn’t see anything. It’ll take a few hours for the full autopsy to come in. And, as for the body itself? Other than the obvious cut neck, he’s cleaner than me after a morning hangover.”

“Well,” Tim paused. “Clean, except….”

He knelt on one knee. He leaned over close to where the hologram hovered over the body was placed. Tim balled up his fist and when he opened them a ball of purple crystalized light materialized, emanating a bright light. Even in the middle of the day the crystal ball’s light was noticeably different, but that’s not what Tim wanted to show her. He hovered the ball of light over the hologram and, sure enough, there was a faint black smoke puffing over it. Tim turned off the hologram with his free hand and the smoke was outlining an eerily similar shape to the body, as if there was a pack of colored dry ice laid to melt. The smoke itself would disappear when it reached behind Tim, away from his ball of light.

Tim craned his neck towards his company. “What do you think?”

It was a one-man massacre.

Nita shut-down the officer’s advances with one figurative unsubtle bomb slapped across Summerset’s face, and way she stepped away from him all the way to Tim’s side was the detonation.

“R-right, let me check-up on the forensics…” He pulled out a smaller iLac. “You two, uh— do what you have to do here.”

Tim and Summerset might not have the best impressions between each other, not by a longshot, but that didn’t mean he was apathetic to the older man’s pain. He, at least, took off his flat cap and laid it over his chest in respect to the fallen man as he walked away.

“Poor sod…” He muttered, before putting it back on.

Nita, as if her little display earlier hadn’t just happened, started talking about the facts Tim laid out for her. She had the situation completely well on hand. As much as he wanted to, Tim didn’t want to look at her directly fearing he’ll end up with the same fate as the officer. He could, however, read his partner in other ways. Before the officer interrupted her, she was empathizing with the victim. She simply said one word when she looked at the man-shaped smoke; Tim picked up on the way she said it too. Even as she spoke, she took his opinion to consideration. Suggesting what she could with the situation and being completely considerate. She didn’t even take the officer’s pedestal and attempted to grandstand over Tim earlier, not for a second.

“Ruthless and frank.” Tim muttered absentmindedly. “But also, empathetic. I don’t dislike that in a partner.”

She suggested to follow where the smoke will lead them. It was the most obvious answer, but she didn’t want to do anything without his say. Tim agreed to her assessment. Even if this trail was both tapping a hornet’s nest and jumping into a snake pit all in one disgusting package. Nevertheless, this was the only clue they have.

Tim huffed out a laugh when she called his little ball of crystal ‘pretty’. After all, the few people who called it that or ‘cool’ thus far he never had any issue with, even made friends with some. It was just a little tidbit from her he tucked into his head.

After she said her piece, he stood up. “Before the final autopsy comes, we’re at a dead end. You’re right. We’ll need to track it.”

“Just a little warning though. This whole place reeks of it—” Tim started to slowly waved his ball of light around and, true enough, the smoke formed a trail from where the body was last placed and into a niche by the newer building’s side entrance a few meters away. Tim walked towards the entrance and it was covered by the smoky trail, he swatted his free hand over the smoke. “This thing feels like a god’s taint.”

Tim didn’t want to make that claim lightly. It was a shuddering feeling. The smoke didn’t smell conventionally; It wasn’t a physical thing. The ‘smell’ felt like a piece of the most shameless thing you’ve done in your life and magnified whenever you are exposed to it, some twisted form of guilt forming as it looms around as your heart sinks, as if you killed the poor man yourself. This was one of those metaphysical traits Tim encountered too often and, while he never gotten to understand exactly what it was, there would always be some god or servant of it lurking in the distance.

“Dealing with them…” Tim shrugged, not even wanting to imagine it. “I hope I’m wrong and it’ll just be some sick bastard with a really good knife.”

He walked over to his partner and handed her the crystal ball. “Wanna have a bash at it? The more ground we cover the better.”

Tim laughed.

From the way he expected his partner to react he might need to explain himself.

“You’re not wrong, per se?” Tim scratched his chin. “Being holy, being divine. Gods are like that, yeah. But the way I see it, being divine has nothing to do with being good. Gods aren’t an exception. The ones that you know are out there, but doesn’t do anything, are the ones you can trust the most. They’re like the lifeguards of a town’s public pool. They won’t patronize you, but if you get screwed over and drown it won’t be their fault neither. The worst of them, which is to say most of them, are the cloud-sitting-sobs that put up a temple or two and get to call themselves a patron deity over things from little cults to entire civilizations! The worst part? Those guys believe their own hype—”

Tim noticed Nita not talking. Admittedly he stopped paying attention to her; he only hoped his drawl didn’t annoy her, or worse, put her off completely.

The young man found a slight relief when she finally answered back after his comment about wanting the culprit to be some dude with a knife, but her fears about it not ending up being the case isn’t unfounded. Does she also have an experience about this sort of thing? That was a small thought that popped over Tim’s head, but he quickly brushed aside when she asked about his experience in dealing with gods as he handed her his ball of light. Was it curiosity on her part? Or was his random thought just now correct? She didn’t really show any disdain to Tim’s magic, or at least until Tim tell her where the thing came from. He didn’t like the prospect on telling her the whole bit about his lineage. There were a select few that knew, some were even from his guild, but even then, it was a huge leap of faith for the young man.

“If this job’s going the way I don’t want it to, I might be able to show it rather than tell.”

Nita was making way towards the newer building’s side entrance when she pulled out a card out of thin air and, as she spoke what sounded like a name of a spell, let the card crush into mist. The silvery mist covered her for a short while and when it dissipated, she donned a completely new outfit! Tim actively clacked his teeth together, keeping himself from getting slack jawed, and hid it with a smile. Her scanty outfit paved way for a long silver evening gown. Tim could’ve sworn there might have been a wind nymph blowing her hair as she pulled out an intricately designed hair pin and used it as a lockpick. She didn’t look like a novice at it too, her silver gloves glistened as her hands went to work with the knob. Tim was all too happy to keep watch, err— for anyone looking at them. While it was part of the job, trying to look for the culprit, this was still breaking and entering.

Then the thought of actually dealing with a deity like this suddenly dawn on him. He looked over his partner, still picking the lock. “I don’t know if you feel it, the taint—”

“If you notice something, Nita? Please tell me.” He imagined an encounter akin to his fight with the wolf deity; something suddenly ambushing him and his partner getting dragged to his problem. “I can tell you’re a pretty good wizard, but I don’t want you getting hurt on my account.”

Tim let out a breath after he said his piece. There was a fine line between blurting everything out and just being mysterious for the sake of it; Tim didn’t want to do either. One click from the pick, and like a wish, it was finished. Tim noticed her look his way.

The door was wide open, and without any alarms tripped too. “Good job.”

She then tried to theorize what they’ll end up seeing at the end of this figurative tunnel. With how Tim imagination running wild, he’d rather stick with these sorts of theories rather than the ones he came up with. Tim crouched beside her over the doorframe. With a huff and a nod, he listened to her.

“Could be. But with a motive like that, I’d rather chalk that up to Desierto. With Joya up in flames, they needed to up their selection of sources for their nation’s biggest imports. Slaves. There are some villages and towns east here that had residents taken already. Well, rescue efforts were there, of course—” His face ended up looking at the distance, trying to see something that wasn’t there. “Just getting a dozen back took me close to a month. Imagine the thousands more that haven’t even identified as missing because of them? What’s more, they’ve been taking a few ‘prisoners’ off the Minstrelian countryside too. The desiertan local slave trade being the mastermind in this… it’s a messed-up thought. But their operation runs deep, even going as far as their capital. Maybe they’re banking on our eagerness to send out our best mages out in the fray, like you said? Get some cargo up circulation while everyone’s preoccupied.”

With all he just said, they really weren’t progressing on the current case. Despite that, he just felt like talking.

“Though with that theory. Bellum’s alliance of wizards and wizard-killers would really be called into question, huh? Madam Cardinal’s little holy war fueled by allowing a nation like that feed on enemies and allies alike… the hell kind of God greenlit a war like that?” Tim was rambling at this point. “This all circles back to what I said about being holy and not necessarily being good, doesn’t it?”

“But that sort of high-and-mighty thinking is beyond grunts like me. I usually just leave it to the snobs and the deities they represent. We get to blame them if go south too, if we want.” Tim shrugged.

“Regardless,” Tim peered his head over the doorway, it looked like most of the magic sensors were still functional. While Tim wanted to check this place with the officers, he did understand how well people can keep seemingly clean while having the vilest secrets just hidden a-wall-away from authorities. “This case is still first priority. Wanna take the lead?”

Nita explained how she didn’t agree to his little theory-slash-ramblings. While her hopeful, borderline naïve, expectation of Desiertans not wanting to raid its own wartime ally might make sense on the surface, Tim’s quite fresh experience with the nation was anything but hopeful.

“Non-government sanctioned raiding parties implies a government sanctioned one, something like that sounds like a worse alternative. How easy is it to lord over others’ lives in such a fashion…” Tim could feel himself frown just thinking about it; the Ring of Blood’s operation and its owners who ended up being ‘rogue’ Fiorean diplomats. Even the last excuses they breathed out as Tim summarily executed them was just as pathetic. “—diplomatic renegades, huh. Easier for the government to disown them when shit hits the fan. A pretty convenient excuse.”

Tim said it to no one in particular. He seemed to do this often lately. An attempt to make sense of things, he supposed. But he didn’t think ahead how he might be perceived from someone listening to his half-thoughts, how it would be barely made up how he truly feels about the matter, but comprehensible enough for someone to make their own conclusion.  

But when his partner tried to connect his theory to the current case, Tim managed to take a figurative step back. “You’re…right…” This case didn’t look like it was connected to Tim’s previous jobs, at all.

“You’re right.” The young man shook his head. “It wouldn’t make sense.”

Not everything crime is connected to one another. Tim prided himself in keeping himself away from any propaganda-like drawl of any kind, nor having any vendetta against any nation or people. But the more Nita explained as a matter-of-factly how little his reasoning made sense, the more Tim agreed. This no longer felt like a sound argument, his words dripped of xenophobia against them!

Why did he say all that? He did his job. He rescued his people. He killed the ones responsible. What did he miss that his head was still addled by it all? Why does he still hate them?

Tim took a small solace towards Nita talking. Even with her hopeful point of view, it was infinitely better than his confusing attempt at reasoning. She talked about the Joyan summit, about the recent incident with the envoys that snowballed into the events the kickstarted the war. Tim had read about it, and knew as much about the incident as the rest of the populace. She talked about how the Pergrandians reacted to the whole event, how they called it an injustice, how they demanded so much from the world when everything that happened thus far had been eyed by everyone as suspect, well, everyone except the Pergrandians.

She seemed to harbor some amount of personal grudge against the Pergrandians, as well. Calling them heavy-handed and unaccommodating, but Tim somehow knew she was labeling them harsher in her head.

She then asked Tim if he was in this god’s— this Arcanos’ position, what would have been the ‘just’ thing to do?

Nita’s disposition shifted when she talked about this Arcanos deity, Tim noticed as much. There was an air of faith emanation from her, something Tim was all to familiar. But having calmed down considerably, he knew better than just outright challenge her faith. She did jab his way then she said humans have been proficient at passing blame, but Tim could only smile thinly at her. His partner ended her thoughts with somewhat of a doubt to her actions, questioning the morality of the war, even hinting an earnest desire to know who the ‘right’ side was.

Tim decided the case can wait for a while, opting to sit by the building side-entrance’s steps. He set down his duffle bag over his side and scooted over should his partner wanted to do the same. Having this sort of talk while discretely infiltrating a building would be disastrous.

Instead, Tim started with a story.

“I have been to a minstrelian village not long ago. They were far enough from the border not to be tied to the border guards, but far from the cities too to be chained down by the world’s current affairs. Officially, they were on Ironheart territory but there wasn’t a single soldier among their ranks, hell, there wasn’t even any signs of them mobilizing a militia. I know this because the place was not fortified at all when I walked through their town. The villagers were nowhere to be seen, not a single body around. No signs of a mass grave being dug too. What I did find was a map, signs of an operation of taking ‘enemy’ prisoners as slaves. Were they government sanctioned? Some of the slaves I ended up tracking in one of Desierto’s largest cities, that’s where I found the people I was looking for too, so I don’t know, must’ve been one crazy coincidence.” Tim looked straight forward, trying to see something that wasn’t there. “I admit, I might have developed an unreasonable hatred for Desiertans because of this. But officially, this wasn’t just Desierto, right? War is a group effort, isn’t it? It’s a faction, after all. So, it was Fiore who burned their homes, then Ca-Elum caged them, and finally Bellum dragged them to slavery. This was the ‘holy war’ they’ve been talking about. The answer in defense to Pergrande’s declaration.”

“Between the ones the ones who think razing clueless countryside villages in enemy territory is their idea of ‘defending their land’, the ones who instigated the whole thing for such a shallow reason of ‘being brought insult’, the ones who fight and die just because their god said ‘sure, jump into the fire’, and the ones who look at this whole war with a shrug and a spit to the ground. Who do you think is more apathetic to their fellow? It was a pointless thing, this whole war. But it isn’t my place to stop it. There are other people on the front lines right now who think way more highly of themselves to do that for me. I can save a handful of people, spare them any further suffering, but turn the tide of a war?” He smiled as he shook his head. “You’re right in saying blaming’s all I’m good for, though. I’ve done nothing but do that through most of my days.”

Tim then thought of her question earlier, the one about the god she had a high opinion on.

“I’m no god. I don’t even want be anything close to one.” Tim had never been firmer to anything he had even said in his life, yet he knew the hypocrisy in that statement, being what he was. “But I gotta say, despite it being seemingly such a benevolent deity, this Arcanos fellow is less useful than a chessboard’s king. You said he cares, in his own way, about his followers? I can honestly believe that. Because most of those people whose villages were being razed probably weren’t his.”

Tim was risking the success of this job over his curiosity, but he knew this was a question that needed to be asked. “If this god’s whole operation sounded more like a protection racket than a proper religion, what’s he done that had gotten such a high opinion from you?”

This was it, there really might be a heart being broken after his crass display. Either her heart, or a few of his bones.

They were at an impasse.

Nita was adamant on her defense on this Arcanos. It was a notable thing too because whenever Tim talked about the gods as a whole she had, at best, a neutral reaction about his misgivings to them. But she would always give a point to address whenever Tim mentioned something about the aforementioned god. He didn’t have any personal problem with people and their faith, it’s a powerful thing. Definitely more powerful than Tim’s abject cynicism on any and all deities. But faith was heavily reliant on the deity in question. It is called ‘blind faith’ on many occasions, after all. Tim took time off their hunt to actually talk to her and they, surprisingly enough, had a rather civil way about doing it.

In the end, no hands were thrown. They only made half back-handed statements about what they said to each other. Tim has definitely dealt with talks that derailed way harder than this one.

She admitted to Bellum’s choice in politics too, which made him smile, a smile that never reached his eyes.

“You just said it. In order to maintain its allies, they turned a blind eye. I really want The Cardinal of Peace to say that to every single one of those people.” Tim gave a short laugh when he uttered ‘Peace’. “I want her to lean over their rusted cages and say ‘What you are doing is strengthening our alliance with your slavers. You’re doing good. I am proud of you.’”

“‘Nobody is right in war, and the only who matter are the ones who are left’ applies to the sides who are engaged in it. Can you really just spit that statement out to people who just happened to get dragged into that war? ‘Sorry, you weren’t born with the martial capability to win the conflict you didn’t start, so you don’t matter’? Now that’s just the sort of thing one of those sobs from the Icebergian pantheon would say.”

Tim listened to her talk about the mirror between Desierto and Iceberg’s little escapades. Nita then hit Tim with a question about him complaining about Arcanos’ participation in the war when Iceberg had a similar code in civilian protection. Tim just shrugged, but a grin shortly followed. “I have nothing to say about Iceberg. The scar I left on one of their deities proves my opinion of them a whole lot more than any insult I throw their way.”

She ended her talk with her introspection on how little they knew about the things happening beyond, and by beyond she meant on a metaphysical sense. On a ‘game’ where even gods are no more than players. Tim had nothing to say to it, it was a thought process he doesn’t think about. He’d rather spend an extra second more helping fellow staff members in the guild house than think about things that doesn’t send a tangible result. But Nita somehow made it sound meaningful, in a way.

Their rather heated talk notwithstanding, Nita kept a bright smile towards Tim. Her bubbly attitude was still in full force, and it was slightly more infectious than he’d like to admit.

When she talked about why she respected Arcanos though, there was only one thought that passed through Tim’s head. ‘Yeah, she’s talking about herself. She is one-hundred percent talking about something that happened to her.’

“They do say personal experience is the most trustworthy source.”

Ideologically, they won’t agree with each other, that much was clear. But knowing her faith in a deity had some grounds that Tim understood and sympathized with was already leagues better than what he thought the source of her faith would be. So long as this Arcanos god was anything similar to Hemera, he won’t press the matter any further.

“You wouldn’t be the worst cleric if you were. I’d take for a priestess that insults me by saying she’ll kiss the pain away any day.” Tim laughed, but then paused when she asked about his family name.

“Surname? Watt—no! it’s, uh, Timson. The 42nd. It’s Tim T. Timson the forty-second.” He shook his head in embarrassment. Since becoming a mage, he tried to ease up into using his real name when making conversation. It was bad enough he had gotten used to the false name Watt for the past years, but he really never realized how unnecessarily long his name was. “You know what? You can always just keep calling me Tim…”

When Nita stood up Tim followed suit. He swung his duffle bag over his shoulder and straightened his flat cap, trying to shrug off his clumsy display. “Our culprit can’t arrest itself. Lead the way, boss.”

Tim decided he liked it more when they were at each other’s throats.

Nita was laughing, at his name’s expense. And as much as he wanted to retort, he couldn’t. Her laugh was very infectious. Even with the ominous mist clouding around them her laughter, despite her belting it out, rang clearly and resonantly. He couldn’t help but huff out a laugh of his own. Her short apology didn’t really help, not that Tim was angry in the first place. Her little retort about his family having ‘some heavy love’ with the name Tim was an understatement.

“I think you’re right in saying that. But ‘Timbearer’…is a word, yeah…”

She then asked what his middle initial stood for, before cutting herself off and just assumed it would also be Tim, as well. And she wasn’t wrong. In fact, she was completely spot on! The ‘T’ of his family line was from the ancient davni name which was the name of Nyx’s special son and the first of their line. And thinking about his actual full name aloud made Tim cringe. Nita did not need to know that, of course. She was grilling his name well enough already!

When he finally started to pay attention back to his partner, she somehow decided to nickname him ‘Tim-Tim’. What is with Tim and the people he meets branding him names? When he first came to the guild, their resident Ace dubbed him ‘nightlight’, and now this.

But as much as Tim liked to idly chat with Nita, it looked like it was finally time to head in. With the young man’s crystal ball of light on hand, they headed inside the building. Not even two steps in and Tim could already feel something off with the place, it was hollow. Well, the interior was exactly something you’d expect from a modern building. But it had an air to it, a freshness of a place that had never been used before. Tim had been in many workhouses and company warehouses in his life; each and every building he would work at, especially if he was left alone in it, had an air to it. Chalk it up either to dumb worker’s sentimentality or just plain instinct kicking in, but Tim could only tell the only people that spent more than a few days in this particular building were the construction workers who painstakingly made it. And the further they went in; his little gut feeling was spot on. There were no signs of any rack, scaffolding, nor a single prop that betrayed what business this building was being used for. Even a criminal’s money laundering business front looked more legitimate than this hunk of hollow concrete!

Tim wanted to talk to his partner about it, the building’s air, but he heard the distinct clack of oxfords hitting the concrete floor echoing from behind one of the doors they were now facing. Tim’s chest bucked as he noticed the footsteps unnecessarily paced gait. Whoever these people were, they knew about the pair of trespassers! Tim was a hit or miss when it came to actively using magic sensory, the thought of using the ability had not crossed his mind. It was when Nita grabbed Tim by the arms, dropping the ball of light and making a thud as it noisily fell on the cemented floor, the doors in front of them was forced wide open. Without warning, Nita began laughing and rambling nonsense!

Tim was wide-eyed the entire time, half thinking she might have been controlled by the newcomers somehow. He kept his level head and instead darted his eyes over the six robed figures in formation of two rows of threes.

The young man was ready to detonate the ball of light on the floor and make a quick getaway with his partner so they could escape, but Nita suddenly staggered towards three of the robed figures closest to her! With a shout of ‘No!’, Tim tried to grab her. But, with a practiced motion, she made quick work against them! Having been to illegal cage matches, Tim was slack jawed at her martial arts prowess. Especially despite her current dress-code.

Tim took it as a sign to take the other three down. With a flick of his foot, as if kicking a hacky-sack, he sent the crystalized ball of light flying to the guy in between and folded the poor sucker’s nose! Tim detonated the crystal ball and sent a pair of focused rays of light towards the other two, blinding them. Without skipping a beat, Tim stepped in with his knuckles facing the sky, already an armlength away from one of the remaining two and sent a textbook right straight over the other one’s jaw! It was remarkable how unremarkably textbook his punch was, but the power behind it sent the hooded figure spinning back into the door they busted out of.

Now only one conscious hooded figure was left.

Tim kicked the figure and sent them towards the doorframe. He then unzipped a few inches off his duffle bag and, with a clean sound of metal, brandished an Iserheim sword. The crystal ball, with Tim’s Grav-à-tête spell, was now floating above them keeping the room well lit.

“Talk.” Tim growled.

Tim kept the tip of the sword firmly over the hooded figure’s neck, just barely nicking a millimeter of flesh off, slowly turning it as if taunting the figure. The blade glinted under the pronounced light, and should anyone capable reading the Iser runes over the sword’s fuller, the words ‘Tim Timόtheos Timson’ on one side and ‘from one god’s slave to another’ over the opposite side could be found hollowed out unto the blade.

“I’m open to suggestions, ‘honey’.” Tim clicked his tongue when the figure didn’t even flinch. “That’s what lovers call themselves, right?”

Their trap could’ve been setup slightly better.

Considering it was their first time teaming up in a fight, the lack of teamwork and synchronization was expected, but despite that they handled it pretty well. Though not well enough that they weren’t left unscathed. Tim only noticed the wound over Nita’s shoulder when she took over the interrogation. He saw what was already a recovering wound, but what troubled him was he didn’t see any of them outright hit her. Had this happened to him, it might have done a completely different damage taking into account how his only source of recovery was a spell that was more along the lines of a glorified band-aid than an actual healing spell. On the surface it looked like the attack didn’t faze her, but Tim knew a thing or two about acting tough. He decided to keep an eye on her.

His little concerned thought was then interrupted by the hooded mage’s sudden burst of cooperation. But not even a sentence in and the cultist already called Tim an ape, and labeled Nita as—a very promiscuous person. Tim didn’t like using the word.

It set her off. ‘It’ being either the insult or the one of the culprits giving her lip, Tim couldn’t tell, but his partner resorted to using magic to persuade the hooded mage. Majority of the time, the only magic Tim would often encounter was the ones directed at him, so by instinct he took a measured step back. His sword, however, was unmoving; it was long enough for Tim to keep the tip trained at the hooded wizard. Just like when Nita first popped up her—card magic? It was still as unsettling to the young man. This time, she casted a spell that amplified something for the hooded mage, because the terrified look on his face was plastered after Tim felt the tingle of her magic at work. With the wizard now completely terrified, he didn’t waste time disclosing any and all information Nita could wring out of him.

Each information leaving the wizard’s lips made Tim flare.

So it was still about a deity, a god of death— in some form, to be exact. A dead god they planned on resurrecting. While the cultist was explaining their modus operandi, Tim pulled out his iLac and dialed in an ID.

“Summerset? It’s Tim.” He looked over the unconscious wizards sprawled all over the hallways. “The hired-help? No—look, bring your men inside the F&T building… yeah, over the side entrance. We have a lead and five unconscious wizards.”

Tim’s attention fell back over the wizard hyping their little cult and whatever death deity they serve. He called their master’s ‘power of death’ something conceptual, something that damaged things beyond the physical aspect of its victims. Tim wanted to scoff at the man believing his own hype, but Nita’s shoulder was proof enough for the young man to take his propaganda seriously. But the other fanfare he took his speech was nauseating for a completely different reason, Tim ever so slightly rolled his eyes at the sheer tone-deafness of his justification. The wizard ended his speech with a last series of insults directed at three people; Tim the Ape, Nita, and someone who he failed to name, because she clocked his jaw and sent him to dreamland in a single blow before he could say it.

The sudden silence after the wizard got knocked out was a bit deafening now. Tim wanted to ask about the third name but suddenly, with her distinct silvery yet mocking tone in full force, she let Tim’s full name roll off her lips with gusto!

“How—?!” Tim’s face couldn’t decide between embarrassment, confusion, and a frown so he ended up looking completely dumbfounded. Just then the Næġl-mækir’s engravings reflected, courtesy of Tim’s ball of light, over his face.

“You can read it.”

Tim really wanted to say something about the sword, but the building’s lights suddenly turned on all over the building. As if on cue, officers in formation swarmed over the unconscious mages, binding them with magic sealing stone handcuffs. Officer Summerset was with the team who came in, but the older man’s disposition was completely night-and-day compared to earlier.

He had a full scowl over his face.

“I need a sweep over the building two-minutes-ago!” He barked.

“Hey.” He nodded over to Tim and Nita. “They finally finished the full autopsy.”

He began shuffling his larger iLac’s screen and showed a document. “Long story short, nothing made sense.”

“The kids over lab said the poor bastard’s body already had Rigor mortis settling in way before his body was first found.” Summerset started. “The field snoops also confirmed that it was the victim’s blood over the scene, but the weird thing was they said the only wound on his body clotted less than an hour earlier. I know magic’s a bitch and all— but, this takes the cake.”

“Rigor mortis meant a body has been dead for more than three hours, right?” Tim didn’t even try to pretend knowing all those terms by heart. “So the guy was killed…?”

“If we go by the book, we have this mess of a story: the guy was killed was already rotting between eight and three hours ago and his body, somehow still retained enough blood circulation until his throat was opened in a separate incident and began clotting not an hour earlier. If we go by that logic, the throat wound wasn’t the one that killed him, or while he was dying on the ground his body was dry aged eight hours ahead.” The man laughed dryly at the assessment.

“His body tissue corroded so fast it looked like he was already dead eight hours ago.” Tim wracked up his head, then finally leveling it over Nita’s shoulder.

“You know something?” Not that Tim tried to hide it, but Summerset still needed to ask.

Tim explained their little scuffle with the cultists, and as much detail as he could about how one of them managing to cast a spell that corroded Nita’s shoulder. Tim didn’t notice the spell being cast; he really wanted to say it was because he failed to use his magic sensory, but it could also be because of the nature of the spell. Regardless, he told the officer both possibilities.

Summerset scratched his chin, looking over Nita’s way with a worried frown. “There’s a bus outside, you should get that looked at. Even if you have some magic healing, the boys outside could at least cross reference it between the latest victim.”

“Bus?” Tim quirked his brow.

Summerset flicked his fingers, as if the words had just popped up. “Ambulance. An ambulance is waiting outside.”

The officer then stepped deeper into the doorway. “My guys are bleeding the place dry as we speak. I’ll go guard that mirror with the rest while we wait for you two.”

Tim and Nita were left alone in the hallways as the officers’ organized calls echoed around the building. Tim wanted to leave it up to her whether she wanted to get checked or not.

But before they could, Tim wanted to get something out of the way first.

“Hey, Nita. About this sword.” Tim was gripping the thing the entire time.

The Næġl-mækir, or the Nail sword, was a blade Tim had been armed with when he fought an old Iser warrior in a duel to the death. The warrior had given himself the honor of forging a pair of swords and shields for them to use. When Tim had mentioned other than his old pen knife, he had never owned a weapon, the old warrior took time to engrave the sword. ‘It is an old Iser custom.’ He told Tim at the time. Tim had never figured out what was written on either side of the blade, only that he was told the engraving was his name in old Iser runes.

Tim never really delved into looking up what was written, he trusted the old man enough. But now that he had met someone who could read it just as easily, he had to ask— “Can you tell me what’s written on the other side? Please.”

“‘From one god’s slave to another’, huh?” Well, the one who engraved those words didn’t lie.

Tim didn’t accompany Nita as she went out to the medics. How could he? He was too dazed, not from the fight, but from the translation she gave him before she headed out. Since the time they met, Nita and Tim were exchanging ideological jabs and inquisitive prodding between each other. It was far from a hostile relationship, but the things she could extrapolate just from that could completely shift with a single misunderstanding. Tim had never given her so much as a glimpse of his life, except for his name—which already ended up being a small blunder on his part. He purposely used as little god-slaying magic as he could for that purpose, relying more in his old job’s company lacrima. But the possibility of her linking Tim with the current case wouldn’t be an impossibility, as much as he wanted to believe she was seeing him in a better light. Was this just his paranoia at play? Tim had often been old by old coworkers of having that bad habit.

It seemed his worries had been proven when she returned from that short backtrack.

After Nita returned, she stopped Tim right by the doorstep of the room which housed the mirror portal the wizard told them. She asked about what deity Tim was a ‘slave’ to; she was blunt as she was serious. Though, she did promise not to pester him should he refuse to share.

Tim frowned at her, looking straight at her sapphire and emerald eyes for… something. His gaze lasted not more than a second and the young man huffed out a laugh and a smile.

“Okay, I’ll tell.”

Trust was in short supply lately, for everyone. Be it from the front-lines of the war the pair had been heatedly butting heads over to the last thoughts of a man who had just been murdered in the streets outside. For once, Tim will go against his usual way and take a stab at trust, for once.

“…that being said. I honestly don’t know how to answer your question.” Tim looked at his weapon again. He was holding his sword by the blade, the grip he pointed at the sky to keep the tip pointing at the ground, not harming anyone.

“A slave to who, and in what sense exactly…?” He tried rephrasing her question. “Through blood? I’m a slave to Nyx, the primordial personification of night. The man forty-one generations before me, Timόtheos, was her son, after all.”

He leaned over the doorframe, carefully sheathing his sword through its scabbard sticking out of Tim’s duffle bag. He hummed as he kept on thinking. “Through fate? Nyx’s consort, the primordial personification of darkness, seemed to fit the bill. See, my ancestor was Nyx’s child, but the ‘father’ not Erebus’. It became one big clusterf— you know what, I’ll spare the details. Their little extended family spat became an old legend among Sinnites, anyway, so you’ve probably already heard about it.”

Tim paused. “Or maybe he knew the reason I agreed with the Hólmganga— one last middle finger to me for selling out to the gods’ games, I don’t know…” He wasn’t even saying things to Nita anymore, he was just rambling.

“Or he could’ve meant ‘slave’ in a metaphysical sense. The god’s domain I bastardized in exchange for all that power…” Tim was looking at the opposite wall, staring at nothing and, again, trying to find something that wasn’t there. “That kinda made me a slave to my own arrogance, doesn’t it? All that ego, and I worshiped it unconsciously like a nameless god.”

Tim snorted. “Shit, that actually sounded like a proper homily all of a sudden.”

He pushed himself off the doorframe and scratched his chin. “I’m really cutting the story as short as I can, I know.”

“But if there was one unfiltered truth I can say with full confidence, is that I have no connection to this case. If we can prevent this death god from taking another breath in the living, it’ll be a win in my book.”

Tim looked at Nita. “Now that we’re needle deep over each other’s past, though. I wanna ask, who or what did that wizard mean to add when he cursed our names? He spat out three names—or, tried to, at least. It was right before you knocked him out.”

He smiled, raising his arms placatingly. “Of course, our clause still applies: ‘I promise to try not to use the information to harass you’, was it?”

But before Tim could hear Nita’s answer, a loud crash reverberated from inside the doors! Tim didn’t waste time ramming the thing open; only for them to be greeted by an officer yelling at them.

“Stop!” She wasn’t looking at them. “Stay back!”

The room containing the mirror was unnervingly shiny! The walls and the floor were as smooth and as reflective as any mirror. Yet, there was still a single full-length body mirror dead center facing on one of the room’s corners.

The officer stole a glance their way. “Where did that guy go?!”

“Pearson! Summerset’s down!”

“I know, damn it!” The officer pulled out her gun. “You two, you need to find the one that got him. I couldn’t see the fuckers, but I swear he was in the room earlier.”

Tim was looking at Summerset, a rather pronounced wound was over his throat not unlike the latest victim. He didn’t have much long, if the autopsy was to be believed. He needed to reach him, fast. Along with Summerset, there were a dozen officers in total inside the room. They were separated in teams of three on each corner. Officer Pearson was closest to Summerset, who had two other officers on the furthest left corner.

The problem was, the mirror was facing in front of them.

Tim, cursing himself, knelt down and placed a hand over the reflective floor. It was still concrete. Tim didn’t even have time to react when a completely black figure that resembled closely to a silhouette of a man in a top-hat quite which literally swam out of the floor and took a swipe off Tim’s hand! But with Tim’s ‘Bastardized Domain’, the blade passed through his hand as if his hand was nothing but a ray of light.

“He won’t last long.” Tim knew Nita would be completely capable of dealing with whatever this thing was. “I’m going to keep Summerset and the others from dying. I’ll leave— whatever that thing was, on your pretty hands.”

“I’m going in.” Tim yelled at Summerset, who couldn’t even reply even if he wanted to.

“No! Stop—” Pearson tried to lean back against the wall, but with how reflective the surface was and how they all saw the assailant traveled across the reflection, it seemed like a lousy attempt at cover.

“Don’t worry.” Tim let out a breath and a smug smile. If there was one thing he thanked for actually telling Nita the truth? It was how he didn’t have to worry about holding back anymore.

Tim slowly stepped inside with very pronounced steps. He then crystalized the light bouncing off the room and formed a floating purplish glass platform for Summerset and the two officers taking care of his wound. Tim slowly lifted them towards the only entrance that wasn’t the mirror portal.

“I heard you sad sacks want to resurrect some dead god.” He said out loud. “Why bother? Gods are nothing impressive, you know?”

It was the most theatrical Tim had acted since he arrived. But the situation called for it. Even if he couldn’t see where the enemy came from, his bombastic showcase is a perfect distraction to compliment Nita’s subtle spells, or at least, the ones he saw her use. Tim counted Nita to look for any reaction from the enemies while Tim gestured to the officers to leave the room.

And as if on cue, a shadow jumped from the mirror!

“Jackpot.”

Tim crystalized the light between him and the assailant’s path. A similar looking purplish glass formed a wall and blocked the enemy’s attack. The glass wasn’t even scratched. Tim counted for Nita to be on the action so Tim took a blind step back and let his partner do her thing, but then another hand grabbed Tim by the leg! Tim barely turned when he let his foot phase through another enemy’s grapple with his ‘Bastardized Domain’.

But that single touch was more than enough, Tim couldn’t feel his calf anymore.

“The hell…?” He jumped back and landed over the platform Summerset was in, they were slowly moving towards the entrance. Tim was kneeling with one knee, whatever that spell was, Nita had a better counter for it than he could think of on the fly. Taking down a cult of self-centered wizards was one thing. But the second enemy felt more powerful than the ones they beaten up earlier.

Now coupled with this shadowy figure, Tim didn’t like how the situation was morphing into.

It was either their teamwork was improving, or Nita was really good at supplementing Tim’s slightly reckless plans.

While his partner was doing an exemplary job holding off their assailants, Tim was beside Summerset. The two officers were doing their best to keep him from loosing any more blood than he already had. A quick glance over the only bloodied area on the otherwise spotless room was evident enough, he was horrifyingly close to bleeding dry.

“Good job.” It was impressive how the two managed to keep Summerset from bleeding out while fending off wizards.

The two didn’t look like they agreed with him. “We didn’t even realize he was cut until his body keeled over from losing too much blood.”

“I don’t think he even realized it himself.” The other officer added.

“Like I said, good job.”

Despite the two officer’s protests, Tim peeled off the bandaged cloth over the man’s throat and quickly used his ‘Aid’ spell. The aforementioned spell only accelerated the body’s natural ability to heal. Tim was counting on Summerset’s body clotting itself fast enough before he bled out. From the way the edges of the cut were corroding unnaturally, whatever was used to shank Summerset was their murder weapon. Tim spell stopped the bleeding now, at least, but there was still a risk of an infection despite the clotted wound. Tim didn’t have any time to clean it; he’ll have to make do with it for now.

Tim’s instincts flared when he heard a loud thud, he felt an incoming explosion and dashed over the edge of the glass platform between the officers and the source to shield them. But even with the substantial damage it dealt to the room, Tim and the others weren’t affected. And even if they had, there were flying cards floating around, trying to shield them.

Nita was walking towards them when the fighting finally died down. Tim was too focused on healing Summerset he just noticed there were now three enemies thrown all over the room, which was now roughed up and cracked barely resembling the deathtrap it was just a few minutes ago.

“Remind me not to actually piss you off.” Tim was looking up at Nita.

Tim suddenly felt a weird feeling over the part of his leg which was grabbed by the enemy wizard earlier. He sat down and pulled his trouser leg up to see his corroded flesh slowly recovering, actually growing some flesh and shaping back to his leg as if it had never been wounded! It was a bizarre feeling.

“Healing magic, huh.” Tim noticed Summerset’s clotted wound dissolve and properly heal. “Definitely leagues better than what I’ve got.”

Tim wished he had that sort of ability instead of God-slaying magic.

Tim’s idle thoughts were interrupted when Nita asked about Summerset. The man was unconscious, but otherwise alright.

“He should’ve been alright, if he didn’t shield be from that shadow…thing…” Officer Pearson was frowning.

“Is that what happened?” Tim quirked a brow.

She nodded.

“He does that.” The other officer butted in. “He wouldn’t have wanted a rookie getting jumped on her second case.”

Officer Pearson smiled at her coworker.

This little moment the two suddenly had was a can of worms Tim didn’t have time to get into, the young man stood up and stepped off the platform before Nita could go up. “He’ll be going fine, thanks to you.”

Nita started assessing the three new assailants that were cuffed by the other officers. She was right noticing them being stronger. They had more people to spare within their ranks too, which begs the question how big this whole cult really was? It was one thing to be organized; but even an unorganized mess that believed they were, and had the manpower to spare was just as threatening. She then suggested going in the offensive. Tim agreed, the officers can mop up whatever trail the pair will leave. But her last little comment earned her another deadpan glare from Tim, shortly followed by a resigned sigh.

“As much as I’d like that, your healing spell’s doing wonders.” He moved his leg slightly; it was good as new. “Though you have my blessing to do that if I ever end up biting the big one.”

“For now—” Tim steered the conversation back. “Going along with the authorities’ pace will leave more bodies in the long run. Either civilians, from us taking too long, or them being free targets for these cultists. You’re right, we take them head on.”

Tim walked towards the untouched mirror in the middle of the room. “That being said, this whole thing reeks of a trap—”

As if on cue, the mirror’s glass exploded on Tim’s face! He was flung back a meter away, landing on his back with an ugly grunt. It wasn’t an explosion in the traditional sense, the glass merely broken itself and stabbed the young man turning him into a makeshift pincushion. Not even giving Tim time to react, the glass was sucked back into the mirror and morphed itself back into its smooth clean surface, leaving Tim as a lacerated mess.

The three assailants laughed at the whole spectacle.

Tim, groaning as he tried to sit up. He licked his cheeks, it looked like one of the shards ripped his cheek from the inside.

“Pricks.” He sent a glare the cuffed wizards’ way, spat out blood off the side and then smiled sheepishly at Nita. “Like I said…trap. We gotta be careful for them.”

Tim appreciated how fast Nita flared at the three mooks. She was impossible to argue with, but when it came down to it, she was kind. Even as she quipped at Tim as she walked back, her words had a hint of worry in it. Joking might have been the only way they were able to properly converse without ending up annoying each other, but it seemed she wears her heart on her sleeves a bit more than Tim had noticed up until that point.

“I think I would’ve done something that stung a lot less if I really wanted that kiss.” Tim smiled her reassuringly. “I don’t feel any corrosion on my wounds, I’ll made due with my magic band-aid.”

But his clothes were a different story altogether. His jacket was ripped apart by the shards. It was also damp from the inside and when Tim unzipped it completely, the white dress shirt his old boss gifted to him was red all over. Only his jeans and shoes were strong enough to survive, but with a lot of scratches that made him look even more rugged. He didn’t mind that. But when he put his hand over his flat cap only to feel his hair sticking out, he let out a breath.

Tim materialized three chains, balled the tips like makeshift flails, and flung to each of the cuffed wizards! The balled-up tips hit them on their face, Tim didn’t even look at them. He merely took a deep breath as he heard them crash on the ground, throwing curses at him.

He didn’t care. It was a very old gift and these pricks damaged it.

The young man casted ‘Aid’ as he slowly stood up; his freshly lacerated body began to slowly clot by itself.

“Great.” Tim shrugged. “More scars for the pile.”

As Nita was busy investigating the mirror it was a good time as any to actually wear something that resembled something like armor. Tim made a four-sided glass wall around him that covered up to his torso. He made the wall a one-sided mirror so anyone looking from outside could only see their reflection. Levitating his duffle bag while pulling out the contents inside, Tim then quickly changed his old work clothes into his armor. From his steel-toes shoes to oxfords, jeans to slick black trousers with suspenders, his bloodied dress shirt into fresher ones, and his rugged (and now tattered) into a jet-black double-breasted vest. He also belted his sword around his hips.

Finally, Tim put his flap cap on top of the pile inside his duffle bag and wore the cat-person ear accessory to complete his ensemble. All of that took no more than a quarter of a minute.

Nita was happily getting the attention of the officers with her little show of force towards one of the cultists’ groin so they didn’t really notice Tim’s quick change. She actually managed to cook up a sneaky plan on going through to the portal, all without getting herself wounded. Calling her ‘boss’ was him poking fun at Summerset’s earlier shenanigans, but she really was capable doing the role. She even gave an incentive for the officers not to join on their little suicide charge, instead sending them to flank on the outside of wherever they’ll end up going.

Tim noticed her already gesturing to help her pick the guy up, so Tim went and levitated the cultist with his ‘Grav-à-tête’ spell and nodded when she asked if he was ready. “On you, boss.”

Going through the portal was nauseating, the sudden chill and the ringing made Tim grunt. “I don’t feel like hurling, that’s a good first-time experience.”

Nita took care of the five cultists that were in the room the just popped out of. Tim thought of her suggesting of throwing them out the portal and let the officers remaining on the other side deal with them, but he was too distracted by the place.

Tim was looking over the stone walls of—wherever they were—and noted its age. It was old enough to look like the ruins Tim was protecting in Quanny village when he first started doing jobs for the guild. The architecture was not as faded, though. More importantly, the room they were in was distinctly dusty and moist, not to mention the place was devoid of any wind from any source except the heavier air from their side being pulled into the warmer room they came from. “We’re underground? Or whatever magic these guys are cooking up is making the air feel like in a deep mine.”

Then, the doors leading to outside of the room swung open and six cultists, resembling the stronger ones they fought, took formation while listening to a single wizard who Tim assumed was the leader. When the leader tried to leave, Tim materialized a chain and tried to grab him. But just as the chain was about a meter away from its target, the chain rusted unnaturally and so fast it became metal dust by the time it hit the wizard, only hitting him with a faint gust of wind.

“Predictable…” He spat and continued to go away, continuing his short speech about them being sacrifices to someone named Xavuul.

“The hell kinda name is that?” Tim muttered, but quickly thought about what the other cultist mentioned earlier. Was it the name of that dead god?

“Sacrifice, eh? So they haven’t resurrected it.” He glanced over to his partner. “Good news for us—”

Nita was pale as a ghost. Tim didn’t even realize it! What happened? Did they get her? A spell? Tim, as a precaution, unsheathed his sword and crystalized the light coming out from the portal behind them, making a wall of light between them and the cultists.

“You good?” Tim stepped beside her. He might not know what the hell happened, but he can at least pull her out of this place should the situation called for it.

She knew something.

Tim was looking at her the entire time. Even as Nita tried to distract him by saying fighting the cultists was the perfect time to impress her, Tim was thinking about her connection with this dead god. Despite Tim’s personal vendetta against deities, he was proven time and time again on the potential of such beings, and others influenced by them, to be more than what their domain represented. His ancestor’s fight against Erebus, Hemera’s compassion for her half-brother and his descendants. Tim knew there was more to them than their pride and apathy. Nita would be no different, unless he proves it otherwise. Was it his pragmatism at work again?

Tim crushed his crystalized light wall and sent the shards flying towards the cultists. He wanted to say this was in no way his attempt at revenge for earlier, but he would be lying. Nita vanished into thin air, appearing behind their enemies in no time at all. The cultists stunned by Tim’s shards; she was able to catch them off guard when she began her counteroffensive. Using an orbed staff she summoned, Nita made quick work off the three cultists. It was the same dynamic they had been doing earlier. But Tim was too busy questioning whether probing Nita with the question would be better or not, so he martialized two chains which had their tips balled up. Tim flung the two lengths into the other cultists! The chains’ ends wrapped around their cultists’ arms while the balled-up ends slugged them like they were thrown by a bunch of gangbangers.

With no officers to restrain the unconscious cultists, Tim connected the two chains and pulled the rest of them together to the center of the room, chaining them.

Nita suddenly asked rhetorically if they made a good team. She knew he knew; her mismatched eyes had an earnest wish for him not to ask it. From the way they argued earlier and the views they practically announced to each other were polar opposites. She was pestering him about his past a lot of times too. But he didn’t know how she’ll perceive his question. Tim bit his lip.

“Falling for me already?” He couldn’t let her get distracted, not when they were neck deep in enemy territory. Summerset almost died because Tim had taken time to idly explain his case. He won’t let that happen a second time.

But a piercing scream filled the room! The cultists chain together screamed in unison: “DEATH-MAKE!”

Suddenly, their bodies crumbled into dust eerily similar to the trail that led them to this place. The dust filled the open area of the room, and what came out of it was something Tim expected the least to face in a place like this. It was a rotting corpse of a wyvern! Its limbs were leaving lumps of flesh as it crawled out of the fog, revealing how truly huge the monster was as more of its body crawled out.

“I heard dragons were majestic creatures.” Tim brandished his sword, spiting on one side from the smell of this rotting thing. “You, my friend, look like you didn’t age too well.”

The creature reacted by clawing Tim! The young man took a step back, dodging the claw. But the monster’s mangled bones were protruding enough to reach him. He couldn’t see what his partner had been doing, but he hoped she was not forgetting the real threat.

“Argh-!” Tim was swatted across the room, through the doorway the leader escaped, smashing it down.

By the time it fully left the fog, its back was scraping the ceiling. Its tail was digging through the walls, trying to give itself more room. Tim crawled back up, punching the ground as he stood. “Nita? I don’t know how much time we have. Take care of the leader, I’ll hold this one off.”

“My charm, huh? Never had someone to admit I had any before…”

Tim didn’t look back, but he could feel Nita’s presence getting further and further.

He was glad she took his suggestion and went ahead. Tim knew she was good enough not to just keel over mid-fight, keen enough not to get ambushed, and hoped she was smart enough to wait for him should she find the fight with that bastard overwhelming. Though, if he was frank, he wanted to fight this monster alone. He had been very careless as of late; the traps he sprung, the crippling injuries he had been afflicted with had Nita been absent in healing him, and people he had almost gotten killed because his mind was distracted.

Tim needed a reminder why he should not slack off.

“Dragon…wyvern…whatever the heck you are.” He adjusted his suit’s gloves. “Mind helping me out for a bit?”

The monster inhaled hard, hard enough Tim’s hair was pulled by the breath it took. Not even giving out a warning, it unleashed an ugly breath towards the young man! Tim easily let the attack through with his ‘Violated domain’. Whatever that attack was, Tim didn’t want to be hit by it. From the look of the stone floor grazed by its breath, it was corroded.

This thing had the same magic as the other cultists. This wasn’t the dead god they mention, was it? It couldn’t have been, else Nita would have been able to recognize it.

But just because it wasn’t their main target, it didn’t mean it was dumb. In fact, Tim wondered if whether the cult leader had been controlling this thing remotely. Because the overgrown lizard was smart enough to ram its belly to one side, spilling unearthed stone and dirt over the portal they had popped out from and covering it up completely in a mound it was now stepping over with one of its rotted feet. Its wings were stretched out to one side, the other was banging over the ruins’ walls. Not that Tim saw any of it, only its gleaming red eyes were visible in the now pitch-black room.

But did it really think the dark would help it? Its eyes were two targets waiting for—

There was a crash starting from one side and suddenly Tim felt his sides flare up, his vision blurred, and he was now flying across the room again. This time, he was flung across the room’s circular walls, his body feeling the rough stones. With a thud, Tim crawled back up again. There was a metallic taste over the liquid slowly running over the apples of his cheeks and into his lips.

It was either a blind swipe off the wyvern’s tail, or it could somehow sense Tim’s magic signature and attacked accordingly. Both possibilities were equally irritating. Tim materialized his signature crystal ball of light, trying to counter this monster’s attacks. But the wyvern swiped its clawed wings at him before he could put the light to good use. The crystal ball cracked along a few of Tim ribs as the monster punched him so hard, he went through the pitch-black room and into another, same sized area which was just as equally pitch black. How did he know it was the same sized? Even as he was slowly sitting up, he could hear the monster’s limbs scrape the walls.

Minus his nightly fights in the cages, he never managed to have himself trained in any form or formal martial arts or any fancy fighting school. Other than his magic sense telling him the wyvern in front of him was the size of an airship, he was out of luck trying to fight this thing in the dark. His head hurt; light magic was no good unless he could conjure a light source. The only way he could do that was with his ball of light, but that made him an even bigger target. He could do the same thing he did with that Wolf God, but he never figured out how to unleash that power. He really did bit more than he could chew with this one.

Was he better off running instead? But then he thought of leading this thing to whatever Nita was dealing with further ahead.

“Shit—”

Bam! Another blow, and Tim was flying again.

He was really all talk back there, wasn’t he? Trying to act like he was in a team of heroes. Trying to be the one who holds off the baddies while the rest of the party goes off the fight the good fight. All that talk about a god’s arrogance and pride when he was the one brimming with it.

Or was this his lightheadedness talking?

Tim shook his head and closed his eyes; he could feel the bored gaze of the monster. His performance so far didn’t leave much to be impressed about. He really was getting dizzy, even as he closed his eyes, he could see little stars surrounding him. Tim knew it was the trick of the darkness, the sort of optical illusions he could associate with magic when he was a child.

His thoughts landed in the seemingly dim lights again, and had an idea.

Tim’s fists glowed from the inside so intensely that the room they were in were illuminated as if it was daytime for a fraction of a second. In that fraction of a second, the wyvern again clawed towards Tim. The young man opened his eyes and saw the same move the monster did before. He dodged, throwing both his hands towards the monster. Nothing came out.

Again, Tim flashed his hands, again, the wyvern attacked, and again, Tim threw nothing at the darkness.

“I don’t know if you can see things like I do.”

This happened over and over for a better part of a few seconds, Tim and the wyvern trading blows. It was enough action for Tim’s head to spin looking at the constant flashing lights from his hands!

“Or you have been using magic sensory like I should’ve started doing a few minutes ago.”

But the young man steeled himself, because his little plan of throwing nothing at the darkness was bearing fruit.

“Frankly, I don’t care. Because either way, you can see it now.”

Those ‘nothings’ Tim had been throwing around were now surrounding the entire room. They were dim crystalized light orbs kept afloat by his ‘Grav-à-tête’ spell. In the dark, the orbs themselves were barely a millimeter across. Without touching one directly, it could’ve easily been mistaken for optical illusions or dust in the dark.

“You can’t resist looking, can you?”

Had the walking corpse been seeing as little as Tim had in the dark, it would’ve been seeing the same stars, zigzags, and flashes as he had. Those optical illusions were perfect for Tim to hide his tiny orbs of crystalized light. On the other hand, had the wyvern been relying on its magical sensory, it should be dazed by the orbs’ sheer number. It knew Tim’s spell was there, but it couldn’t see its target.

Either way, Tim was at an advantage.

And from the way it had been failing to find Tim on one second and getting confused in the next, it was doing both. Tim then detonated the orbs closest to the monster’s eyes. The wyvern reeled its head back, roared, then blindly swiped its clawed wings at the young man! But the two orbs kept illuminating the room which made Tim easily use his ‘Violated domain’, letting the attack hit nothing but air. Even as it shifted its target from Tim to the orbs, it was like trying to catch dust in the wind. With a final roar, the wyvern summoned its great breath. It was inhaling harder than earlier!

Tim had to grip his sword and dig it into the stone floor to keep himself from being pulled into the monster. Tim needed to finish this.

After all, a lightshow wasn’t Tim’s endgame.

The wizard detonated all of his tiny orbs of light, most of which were already exploring the wyvern’s insides. The young man smiled as he crystalized the light illuminating through the torn rotten flesh of the abomination from both inside its lungs and from the crystal pellets hovering outside. But the damned monster pushed through and exhaled its corrosive breath!

Tim used the same spell as he had before, letting the attack pass through. But the creature’s eyes eerily changed from red to pitch black.

“Oh f—”

Tim managed to desperately shield himself with a crystalized wall of light, bracing himself. But the force of the attack’s new properties was something Tim failed to handle. The wizard was blown back rooms away from the dragon. Tim could only try and crystalize more of the light around the wyvern as he was blasted through the ruins. Only when the breath was at its end when Tim was able to kneel on one leg, not even able to stand.

Tim spat.

The wyvern, now completely immobile, had its tendons cut to ribbons by the crystalized shards of light acting as blades. Tim frowned at the sight of it still somehow alive. It was vomiting the same breath attack as earlier, but with little to no breath to take from the cut-up lungs, it could only wheeze and garble out the corrosive substance.

“It’s…a draw…” He couldn’t even beat it properly.

Worse still. He couldn’t feel half of his right leg, the leg he was kneeling on. His shoulder felt the same, that being, it felt like it had the same as being cursed by one of the cultists earlier. Tim cursed under his breath as he stood up. He achingly materialized a palm sized ball of crystalized light and walked out of whichever room he now ended up being in.

Tim gritted his teeth and followed a trail he thought was separate from the secretions of the rotten wyvern.

'She said not to go dying, so losing a limb or two isn’t breaking any promises, right?' He held tight to that thought as he limped deeper into the ruins.