Feral: Chapter Nine

 With the earlier fiasco over with, we were able to focus on buying our equipment. Steel ingots, bull skin, coal, small amounts of silver, three diamonds. By the time we were done, we had a small fortune in goods in the back of the cart. For good reason after all. I was making armor for a religious icon. Anything less than a fortune poured into making the most high-quality armor I could would have been a waste of time.

When we got back to the house and entered the workshop, I could hear Katya and Hasha speaking. I dropped the crate of steel ingots I’d been carrying, then stepped into the main house. “Hey, we’re back.”

Katya and Hasha had set up a small corner of the kitchen as a makeshift classroom in the time we’d been gone. As I came in, Katya was leaning over the small microscope Jennifer had given me, looking at one of the slides I’d created a while ago.

“So you see?” Hasha said enthusiastically. “Plant cells, even in things as different as apples and potatoes, tend to share certain characteristics. As we’ve seen with animal cells as well! Notice, once more, thestructure of the cellulose wall. While this microscopeisn’t very powerful, I have one of my own that would let you see far more.”

“Wow,” Katya said, eyes widening as she stared into the microscope.

I blinked. They were talking about biology? Wasn’t Hasha teaching her about history before?

“Ah, Char!” Hasha grinned at the sight of me. “I assume you’ve gotten the materials?”

“Yes. I’m about to get started on the armor.”

“Oh!” Katya looked up excitedly. “Can I watch?”

I shrugged, now used to the odd enthusiasm Katya seemed to show for everything. “You can. But I guarantee you’ll be bored however.”

“I won’t,” she shook her head emphatically, pouting in a very cute way.

Minutes later, I had my thick leather apron, a forge nice and hot, and a hammer in my hands. I watched the steel ingot I’d placed inside the forge slowly redden, the heat of the flames within warming my skin.

Katya was looking through several of the reagents I’d brought as Hasha helpfully assembled them out for me. “What are these for?”

I flicked my eyes back to her. “Reagents. Some small plants like thyme, sections of bone from different animals, diamonds, a little bit of gold dust, all to make the best runes I can.”

Feeling I’d answered her question, I went to work. This ingot would have to be flattened out into the large flat piece that would become the chestpiece. It would be hard work, but I’d put a few runes on my hammer to make the process faster. Not as fast as the artifact I was making would turn the process into, but I was proud to say that the runes, in combination with my strength, allowed me to forge like no one else.

It was a slow process. An enjoyable process for me. As I took the ingot out and started hammering, I felt at piece. This was where I excelled. I may not have been able to summon blasts of lightning in seconds. But magic like this, requiring patience, requiring precision? That was my best skill.

Slowly, I flattened out the metal. I entered that meditative state that allowed me to work with full concentration. As I worked, I could hear people enter and leave the sharp, and hear a few conversations as muffled noise. I ignored them. Not to be rude, but simply because I was focused on my work.

Soon, I had a flat piece of metal ready to go. I’d made sure to buy good steel, but the method of creating high carbon steel was less refined than the ones I created, so I double checked it with a small tool I’d created. I called it the sparker. Just a thin piece of metal connected to handle with the same engraving I’d put on my now long destroyed dagger, all it did was contain a current of electricity. When touched against metal, I could tell if I had high carbon or low carbon steel based on the sparks.

As I used the sparker, I could feel Katya and Richard watching as Arthur explained the process, but ignored them in favor of finishing the test. Once I was satisfied, I began to hammer the piece into shape.

To do this, I waited until the metal was cool, then marked off the design I was using for the metal. I used a small plasma tool, a purely spiritual creation that did nothing but create tiny flames of immense heat using runes, to slice through the steel and cut it to shape, putting the extra pieces aside for later. While I’d gotten enough steel for the whole of the armor, I still hated to throw away anything that could be useful.

Then it was time for the runes and the planishing. I’d decided on the runes I wanted already, barring a few others. Increasing the durability of the armor was obvious, but I’d need to save those for last. When I’d started out as a runemaker, I’d accidently made a dull dagger that was extremely tough. I still had it, because I never threw anything away, but trying to sharpen something that had been turned as hard as a diamond wasn’t worth the effort.

In order to prevent such a mistake, I’d carefully planned out each step of the process, and left some space to work with Katya’s magic. The first step was mannaz, to tie the armor into the intentions of the wearer, and raidō. Raidō was often used to mean journey, but I found that it was excellent for change, or evolution as well. With raidō, the various changes I’d make to the chestplate would be more fluid. Most importantly, the rune went well with mannaz. If mannazrepresented a person, then raidō was the perfect rune to represent the changes a person went through their life. So as Katya evolved as a person, her armor would adapt, and continue to work for her.

ᚱ- Raidō

Which brought me to the awkward part of this.

I looked up at Katya. Somehow she didn’t seem poured. On the contrary, she’d continued staring at me through my work, fascinated. She had a pair of dark thick lenses on that she must have worn when I was plasma-cutting and forgotten to take off. They were too big for her, which made her look very cute as she watched me.

“I’m going to need a sample from you.”

“What?” Richard, who’d been watching from a corner of the room, stepped forward.

“Something like sweat, blood, or even hair,” I said quickly. “Nothing drastic. But these runes I’ll be making are going to be tied to your genetic code, so I need a sample of it,” I shrugged. “I would have asked earlier, but it slipped my mind.”

Actually I hadn’t wanted to broach the subject. It was a bit awkward to ask someone for a piece of the hair or a few drops of the blood.

“It’s the principle of the Law of Contagion. Once I have a piece of the target, I can affect it from afar since its still part of a "whole", even if it's miles or kilometers distant. In this case however, it is only so that the armor considers your body as a ‘part‘ of it, and so will work for you more efficiently.“

I took the time to be impressed with Katya. While she didn’t know a lot, she never seemed to be confused by any of my explanations. Maybe she was faking it, but she only nodded thoughtfully at my explanation, rather than asking for clarification. Not dumb, just ignorant. The difference being that stupidity can’t be fixed, but ignorance can.

She reached up to her blonde locks and pulled out a strand with an adorable ‘ow’ of pain. Then she held out the hair to me. “Will this be enough?”

“Perfect,” I took the strand and walked over to my table of regents, slipping it into a small vial.

More work was ahead. But we were on our way.

------

After a few more hours of work, I decided to put an end to things. Katya seemed glad for this, as did Richard. Hasha, on the other hand, could have worked for even longer, and I suspected that he’d continue researching when he got home. I’d explained the rune I’d seen in the garden to him, and he’d been extremely excited with the idea of it.

But me, I choose to rest. I needed my full focus.

And truthfully, the whole experience made me tired. I was beginning to feel the stress of the past hours pile in on me. Katya was a kind young girl, but I don’t think she understood just how tired I was. The constant research, the schematics I’d made, the beating I’d taken from the knights, the encounter with that official on the way to the docks, all the new people in my life, all the concepts I’d had to deal with recently? They took a toll. After a life of quiet study and peace, with only three people in my life, I felt tired by all of the strange things happening.

So, I went to sleep. I don’t remember why I woke up. All I know is that when I did, I saw a figure standing over me.

The figure wore casual clothing, all a very dark shade of blue. She, and I could tell it was a she from the curves of her body, raised something in her hand.

A dagger.

My eyes snapped open at the sight of it. It was simple in design, curved slightly. A clear liquid could be seen on the surface. I tried to spin away, to grab her arm. But I couldn’t move.

She stabbed downwards. I screamed in my own mind, trapped with a killer stabbing down at me.

A slender hand wrapped around the assassin’s wrist. The assassin let out a gasp, and looked over at the person who’d stopped her.

Jennifer, wearing a purple dress and black leather boots, smirked. “Yeah. Not going to happen, dearie.”

------

Jennifer threw the assassin back. In a display of incredible agility, she, the assassin that is, flipped through the air and landed on her feet. She reached into her pocket with lightning fast speed and flung out something that slashed through the air so fast it was a blur to my eyes. Jennifer’s right hand moved with the same sort of speed, and I heard a few ‘tinks’ followed by several triangular shaped throwing knives landing on the ground.

“Char, throw that curse off yourself and run!” Jennifer called out. That was all she had time to say, for the assassin rushed towards her.

A curse? My eyes, the only part of me that could move, widened. Curses were a tough bit of magic. Almost every living being and many non-living ones, had magic inside of them. That was the nature of the soul after all. This magic, when not being used, simply flowed under the skin. Curses tended to interfere with this natural process in a focused way, causing bad fortune, sickness, and acne. Or paralysis, as I was proving.

The assassin must have placed it on me to prevent me from moving while she stabbed me. This was a massive problem. I could throw off a curse. With time. It was a purely spiritual magic, something I had no skill in outside of its interactions with physical magic, but I could do it. I just had to control the flow of the magic inside me to fight off the foreign intruder, much like white blood cells fighting disease.

The problem was, I didn’t have time. The assassin and Jennifer fought in the small confines of my room at incredible speeds, hands and feet meeting like a drum being rapidly hit, but I could see the assassin’s bright purple eyes flicking to me. Sooner or later she’d try to attack me again.

I pushed off my thoughts of how bad I was at this aspect of magic, and simply went to work. Reaching deep into myself, I dipped into the pool of energy that was my magic. I tended to see it as a steel core within myself, pouring out a steady stream of molten metal. Hasha found that funny.

“So you think of yourself as steel?” he’s asked with a small chuckle.

Imagining the molten metal pouring into my limbs, I forced my magic outwards, flowing under my skin. It immediately hit interference in the form of another force of power. The assassin’s curse. I imagined the molten metal of my magic pressing against the curse, burning it.

It was slow going. I like to think I have a good imagination, but this sort of visualization was something I liked to do slowly, taking my time. Rushing through it was going against everything I specialized in.

I pushed my magic against the curse holding me in place. A throwing knife bounced off my chest as Jennifer continued to defend me, almost shattering my concentration.

The curse held for a long time. Then, under the force of my magic, it shattered.

A brief wind came from me, residual energy from the curse. I rolled off the bed and hopped for the door. With my magic still flowing through me, and my body aching from the curse, I stumbled across the room. The assassin saw me move, and rushed towards me as I hobbled away.

“Get away from him!” Jennifer shot across the room and slammed her fist into the assassin’s chest. Both woman started to move with incredible speed and ability, fists and elbows aiming at each other’s vital points. There was an efficiency to their movements. Unlike Katya, who seemed to treat battle as much as a fun game as a fight, they moved to the most simple and brutal method of attack, aiming to finish the opponent off.

I’d just reached the door when the assassin managed to kick Jennifer back. She snarled something at Jennifer. Then, in a vicious move, she used the knife she’d prepared to kill me with to stab herself in the hand.

I froze, trying to understand why she would do such a thing. Her hands slapping together with fingers shifting into a changing set of patterns as blood poured from one and slapped the ground with a loud yell.

Nothing happened. Then a chill came in the air. It pressed in around me, like slowly sinking in the cold mud of a swamp. The lights, which had been dim before, seemed to sharpen. The sickly sweet smell of rot filled the air.

And a shadow came out. Inky-black, it’s form wispy despite its large size, it came out from behind the assassin, despite the fact that she’d been pressed up against a wall. I felt my throat become dry, even as some part of me started interpreting what I was seeing.

“Demon,” as I whispered this, the creatures face solidified into an inky black smile set against a long face, red eyes snapping open to gaze at Jennifer and me.

Like a spirit, the natural beings of the wilderness, demons were creatures of pure spiritual magic. They could be good, bad, or neutral. But more often than one would like, they were made of the same sort of insanity that possessed the world’s worst mortal killers. The enemies of dragons, the plague-creators, and the beings of myth.

And one was in my room.

The demon rushed towards me, long claws of shadow reaching out. I stepped aside, fist closing, ready to fight no matter how useless it was.

Jennifer stopped it. She grabbed the shadow and slammed it to the ground. I don’t know who was more shocked when Jennifer managed to wrestle a demonto the ground, me or the assassin, but we both watched in awe as the redhead and the monster roared in each other’s faces. Jennifer’s eyes seemed to glow as she and the beast began hitting each other, and there was a chill laugh filling the air all the while. The beast threw her into a wall, shaking the stone walls of the house, but she only cried out in laughter, launching towards the massive beast with her tiny fists and driving it back.

As we stared in awe, the assassin and I shared a look. For the first time, I got a good look at her. She looked human, though I couldn’t tell for sure. She was short, and seemed thickly built, with well-formed muscles under her dark clothing. Her full lips, closed, then quirked into a smirk as she looked at me. Her blue eyes flashed under ink black hair.

I ran as she flashed her hand outwards. Her dagger, still soaked in her own blood, clattered against the stone wall behind where I’d been standing. I didn’t look back, just running down the stairs.

This was the three men in the alley, or the knights from a day ago. This was a trained killer, and a fellow magic user who seemed to be willing to summon damned demons to get the job done. No way I was going to take her head-on. I avoided thinking about what such a dangerous person might have done to Arthur, who’s room was next to mine, simply rushing down the stairs. A quick turn and I was at the door to the forge. I panted heavily, my muscles screaming. Despite throwing off the spell, the curse had taken its toll, and using my magic in such a reckless way had caused damage only rest would solve. No time for that now.

I opened the door to the forge room, rushing past the armor stand where Katya’s chestplate rested to get to my workshop. There stood my salvation.

My own armor. Forgotten for days, I’d only used it as a reference for the runes I’d be putting on Katya’s armor. It rested on it’s armor stand, a proud testament to both my skills and my failures. As helpful as it may have been, I couldn’t but it on, not before the assassin rushed into the room. But I could put a piece of it on.

I grabbed the right gauntlet, slipping my hand inside. Pressing the runes on the outside of the wrist, I watched the gauntlet comes to life, pieces flipping into place to fit more solidly to my hand. As it did, a large tube came from the top of it, the opening aimed over my fist. I heard a noise behind me and spun around. The assassin’s hand reached for her waist. My gauntlet rose. A loud boom filled the air, leaving a ringing noise in my ears as the noise echoed in the small room.

Then it was quiet. I stared at the assassin. She stared back. Smoke came from the tube attached to my gauntlet. Then, she fell to her knees.

I was breathing hard, panting really. The stress of the last few minutes combined with running while under the effects of the curse had taken their toll. The assassin pressed a hand to her chest, where dozens of small holes had appeared.

“What… what happened?” she asked. Her voice was soft. I hadn’t expected that.

“…black powder,” I answered, leaning against a shelf and letting my armored hand drop to my side. “It makes an explosion when ignited. So I made some myself, and packed it into a barrel along with some small ball bearings.”

“Like a cannon but smaller,” the assassin laughed.

“Yes. Activated by a rune of kenaz, of fire, to ignite the black powder on my command.”

ᚲ- Kenaz

“Not the most accurate weapon,” she looked up at me as blood began to soak her shirt.

“Well… it’s a work in progress.”

She chuckled. For a moment we sat there, me exhausted, her bleeding to death.

“I’m a hybrid too,” she said suddenly. “Dwarf mother, human father… kinda funny I’d end up getting killed by one.”

“Hmm,” was all I could think to say.

“No big questions?” the assassin asked as blood started to pool under her. “Like who sent me?”

“…What is your name?”

Her eyes widened. Then she sighed. “Andrea. Not a name you’d expect for an assassin but…” her eyes closed slowly. She fell onto her side from where she’d been kneeling, cheek pressing onto the blood soaked floor. “My name… is Andrea.”

Her eyes closed. Her breathing slowed. And I watched in silence as she died.

I didn’t move for a long time. I felt numb. She’d been trying to kill me. And now she was dead. I didn’t know how I felt. Or even how I was supposed to feel.

After I had been standing in the room for a while, I heard footsteps rushing towards me. I lifted the gauntlet, only to remember that I’d used up the one charge of black powder I’d put inside it. I’d need to create something more rapid-fire. Something to think about later.

It didn’t matter. Jennifer appeared at the door. She looked at me, pointing an empty gauntlet at her. Then at the assassin on the floor. When she looked at me again…it was as if her eyes had a physical weight to them.

Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. I fell to my knees, the closest thing to a mother that I had hugging me close, and stared at the body of the woman I’d killed.

------

“Arthur was placed under a sleep spell,” Jennifer said as I boiled water for tea. She sat at the table that Katya and Hasha had been having their ‘classes’. As I heated the water in the fireplace, she flipped idly through a text on geological magic. “He’ll be out for the next few hours. You said she said her name was Andrea?”

“Yes,” I said stoically, letting the familiar motions of making tea calm me.

“Hmm. Haven’t heard of her. But then, you never hear about the best assassins. That is the point after all.”

I nodded, understanding. Then I asked one of the many questions burning inside me. “How did you know she was coming?”

“Because I keep track of things like this,” Jennifer closed the book in her hand. “Every robbery, murder, drug deal, and assassination. If the business is dirty, I try to know about it. And I cut off any of those endeavors that are too stupid or risky. As any slaver who has ever operated in this city knows.”

I took the water out of the fireplace and poured it into the pot I’d prepared, watching the steaming liquid pour over the chamomile and rise slowly upwards.

“So when one of my girls got wind of a contract being put out on you, I immediately intercepted it. Unfortunately, this ‘Andrea’, was already on her way. So I came, and stopped her. Or, I suppose you stopped her. I stopped the demon.”

I thought of the massive creature, of its overwhelming presence. “How did you do that?”

“Do you remember why you no longer speak to me?”

A shudder passed over me. When I looked at Jennifer she was giving me a very calm look. “Nothing less can kill a demon, Char. I am no dragon, for all my power. So I cheat. And that is the method that works best.”

I pushed the thought of that horrific moment away to meet eyes with Jennifer. “Did you ever find out who made the contract on my life?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” I selected to tea cups, nice ones for special occasions, and brought the tea over to her. “Someone deciding to finish the orcling off?”

Jennifer scoffed, watching me place the cup before and pour her tea. “No. I’ve seen more than a dozen contracts like that. Jarvin, while not a fan of them, tends to be safer for hybrids than most places, but I do see some try to kill the neighborhood hybrid for whatever reason. I tend to make sure those get ignored. No, this was something different. Someone paid an enormous amount of money to get this done quickly, and they used a fool as a proxy. A fool who has no idea who gave the order. This is not the work of a random man with a hatred of orcs. This is something to do with your new client.”

I remembered Katya speaking about Richard’s overprotectiveness. Something about assassins.

“Why me then?” I poured out my own cup and sipped it. “Why not try and kill her?”

“Rather coldhearted of you,” Jennifer noted. “What makes you think they haven’t sent anyone after her today?”

“Did they?”

“No,” she smirked. “You’re right. Of the people in the Prophesied Child’s circle, only you have been targeted,” when she saw me frown at that, she leaned forward to put a comforting hand on mine. “Char. No other contracts will be made on you. You have my word.”

I looked down at her hand on mine. After an awkward silence

With all that had been going on, I hadn’t had time to think about Jennifer. About what to do about her. The closest thing I had to a mother had turned a man to charred meat, fought a trained assassin to a standstill, and somehow killed a demon. And that time… my mind continued to recoil at the mere thought of it.

She had also saved my life. She’d never hurt me, now or ever.

I was a magic user. I prided myself on my logical mindset, my ability to analyze things and come to correct conclusion. Jennifer had something dangerous inside her. But then, so did I. When I’d smashed that dwarf into a wall. When I’d beaten those knights. That dark anger within me, driving me to do whatever it took to survive.

In fact, the assassin may have been the first person I’d hurt without that rage. And I’d killed her.

How could I continue to treat her like a monster, when I knew full well what that meant?

“I,” a cough cut me off. Jennifer looked at me as I sipped more tea. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve uh… I missed you.”

Her jaw dropped. She stared at me, shocked. Then, slowly, she started to smile, eyes bright with unshed tears.

“I missed you too, my dear child,” she said softly. She finished her tea and rose. “I’ll take care of Andrea’s body. You get some sleep. And remember that I’m here if you need to talk, okay?” I nodded. She looked into my eyes for a moment, then pressed a palm to my cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be right here whenever you need me.”

The only answer I gave her was a nod. She smiled, then walked towards the workshop. I took another sip of my tea.

I killed someone.

I sipped my tea.

I was a murderer.

I sipped my tea.

Her name was Andrea.

I sipped my tea.