The Effaced: Chapter Five

I was slumped into the folding metal chair, the attorney that I’d called sitting next to me. Across from us, Captain Hunt and a constable sat, playing the classical act, where Captain Hunt would come in hard, and the constable would back up and play nice, but the attorney wasn’t buying it. 

For my part, I didn’t have to do anything. The attorney was doing the arguing for me, going on about how much time they’d held me, and at what point it could be considered harassment, while Captain Hunt hammered in the part about me being dangerous, a potential menace to society, and being one of the few people who could have killed the senator. 

To my annoyance, she didn’t explain why exactly I was one of the few people who could have done it, but I could take a guess. Back when I’d been younger, when I’d been called Mist instead of Axel, I’d been known in the arena for a couple of interesting tricks. Any of them could be replicated in theory, of course, but they were unique enough that I would be on a short list of suspects.

This entire debacle had likely come about because of my actions as Mist, but I wasn’t Mist anymore. I hadn’t been Mist for a very long time. I’d shoved it down for years now, kept those memories buried, kept those skills buried. 

But right now, there was no way that I’d be able to get away with that. 

I needed to remember.

I closed my eyes, took a breath, and dove into my past…

Twenty-four years ago, Mist stood across from an opponent in a dueling ring, a cocky grin on his childish face. 

No, that wasn’t right. 

Twenty-four years ago, I stood across from my opponent in a dueling ring, a cocky grin on my face. 

In the distance, I could hear the roar of the crowd. They were eager, eager for blood, violence, and to maybe, just maybe, see someone get killed. That was what they’d paid for, and while I didn’t know how many panes the Arenamaster charged people to enter her arena, I knew she made a lot of money.

My opponent was called Truelight, an illusionist. I hated fighting illusionists. My own aura hadn’t awakened yet, but when it did, I fully intended for me to learn some sort of spell to deal with them. 

“So, you’re called Truelight?” I called out. “You don’t look like much to me!” 

That was a lie. Truelight did look fairly impressive. They were tall and imposing, with a muscular, yet androgynous form. Their face shifted from moment to moment, at times an old man, at other times a young woman, and at yet other times neither old nor young, nor man nor woman.

“And you’re the little rising star that they call Mist, huh?” they called out. “How old are you? Ten? You better not think I’m going to go easy on you because you’re a kid.” 

I wore a mask and coat, of course, but my eleven-year-old frame was on the lighter side, not holding the height and power that I’d come into after puberty. 

“I’m eleven!” I shouted. “And you better not! You’ll be dead in one shot, otherwise!”

The organizers, Arenamaster, and my mentor let us banter a bit to give the crowds some time to build hype, but not long.

Less than a minute later, the demon Alyphize stepped out onto the crowd. She was tall and curvy, and most of the other kids that the Arenamaster had taken in thought she looked really interesting, but it had never held the same appeal to me.

I remembered that at the time, I wasn’t sure why.

“Alright then,” Alyphize said in a throaty purr. “Let’s. Roll. Those. Ddddddice!” 

She thrust her hands in the air, and a pair of ten-sided dice, made from the strange red and blue light that made up Alyphize’s demonic magic, and each larger than my the bunk beds the other boys and I had, appeared in midair. 

They began to spin and rattle around the arena, one even passing through me and sending a shiver down my side. When they finally landed, I looked up to see the results.

Snake eyes. 

I didn’t remember the exact rules, limits, arena terrain changes, spell effects, end conditions, and other minutiae for every single possible roll. There was a chart that I had been supposed to memorize, but why bother? I’d just shoot them. If I couldn’t use my guns, or I was too close, then I’d stab them. If I couldn’t use either a gun or a sword, I’d punch them. It didn’t really matter. 

But I did know what snake eyes meant. 

Death match. 

No holds barred, any weapons allowed, anything goes match. There would be no arena terrain changes or spell effects.

Just a good old-fashioned fight to the death.

It seemed like the crowd would be getting their share of blood tonight. 

Truelight shifted uncomfortably, and I lowered my hands to my guns as the dice dissolved, and the countdown started. 

When the red and blue light of Alyphize’s magic vanished, I flicked my guns out and fired. Truelight split into six copies, scattering in every direction. 

That was a classic trick for illusionists, and I was willing to bet that none of the images that I could see were the real Truelight. 

I had to bet, because if I was wrong, Truelight would probably kill me. 

I kicked off, leaping to the side as the bang of a gun went off on the opposite site of the arena, and a bullet tore through the air where I’d been standing moments before. In the same instant that I moved, I fired off, rapidly firing and adjusting my aim. I sent a bullet into the open air in between each of the illusionary Truelights. 

My gamble paid off. A huge spurt of blood shot through the air in between the second and third to the left, and I shifted my aim. 

Truelight made the blood vanish a second later, but it was too late. My first shot hadn’t been a lethal one, but I still had two shots left per gun before I’d need to change. 

And I knew where they were. 

The air thundered as I filled the air where they were with bullets, spreading them slightly in case they’d lunged right or left. 

More blood sprayed through the air, and then the illusions vanished. A body slumped onto the ground, but I knew better than to think that was a guaranteed death. I shoved my guns and drew a second pair, then started firing them off into the illusionist’s body as I walked forwards. 

The body jerked under the force, and when I got close enough, I fired three shots into their head. 

If they could survive that, they deserved to kill me.

I lowered my guns, slipping them back into the holsters at my waist, then turned to the crowd and pretended to blow kisses to them. I wasn’t sure why people did this, but I’d seen other victors do it, and it usually got a good reaction out of the crowd. 

Alyphize stepped next to me and steered me towards the exit, then up the halls to the box where meet the Arenamaster and my mentor, Aniseed.That probably wasn’t my mantor’s real name, but it had been what she’d fought under, and it was all she answered to. 

As we climbed up the stairs, my heart started beating faster. I was looking forward to this reward. Everyone had been eluding to this match being a big reward for a bit now, but had refused to tell me what exactly I would get. 

“That was quickly done,” Alyphize said. “You would do well in my home. The current Throne of the Gambler quite enjoys these sorts of spectacles, being once wrath-born.” 

I’d been warned to never make a deal with Alyphize, to never accept her help or favors, and to never agree to do anything for her.

I turned her words over in my mind, searching for hidden traps and tricks. Unable to find any, I defaulted on Aniseed’s second piece of advice – always be polite to demons. They weren’t like the Fae, who could trick you into a debt, but they were tricky, and quick to anger, and acted on wants and desires with wanton abandon.

“Thank you for the compliment,” I said. “I think that if you wanted me to fight in the demon realm, you would have to speak to our mutual master, since I don’t control that.” 

Alyphize let out a laugh at that, spinning circles of light forming illusory clothes over her form. 

“Oh, there’s no need to worry. The Arenamaster has made plenty of arrangements. But no, it’s simpler for us to just watch through the enchantments and the eyes of our bonded mortals than it is for you to come to us.” 

I was saved from further conversation as we arrived, and Alyphize opened the door. We stepped out into the large office, with the glass panels in the back that allowed the Arenamaster to watch the games from above everyone else, monitor the crowd, and more. 

A large desk dominated the center of the room, and behind it, the Arenamaster  sat, the light of the arena streaming in behind her, making her appear like a queen presiding over her realm. 

The Arenamaster was a tall, imposing elven woman, with long, silky black hair that was kept tied in a sensible ponytail. She wore a pinstripe suit that was immaculately clean, and served as a contrast to her pale skin. Her gray-black eyes seemed to see everything in all of existence, her pointed ears would catch any sound, and she gave the overall impression of an immaculate business woman. 

Behind her stood two people to serve as guards, the one on my left my mentor, Aniseed, and the one on the right being an arena manager.

Aniseed was a medium height, muscular human woman, but she had the slightly leaner build focused more on the legs and torso that I associated with a dangerous fighter, rather than someone who worked out for appearances. Her right hand was missing where it had been damaged in an arena fight years ago, but I knew that didn’t make her any less dangerous. Her dark skin was covered in scars, including a few on her bald head, and her dark eyes moved around the room, constantly on guard.

The arena manager was the one that idiots thought was dangerous. He was a giant-kin, standing at almost eight feet tall, with blue skin, and muscles that rippled with every breath. He looked like he could lift a horse with raw strength, and honestly, he probably could have. His aura blazed around him, a crisp red color, and the force bond shone obvious in the front and center. It was large, larger than almost anyone else I’d seen, and fairly dense, like water.

But I’d seen my mentor beat him without even breaking a sweat. He was there to intimidate the idiots, and she was there to intimidate the smart people. 

As soon as we entered the room, Alyphize’s form dissolved into a stream of blue light, slipping away into the Arenamaster aura, and she leaned forwards, giving me an almost motherly smile. 

As well she might. She had taken me in, after all, which made her my mother after a fashion.

“Ah, Mist. Well done. Killing mages without any enchanted gear of your own is not the easiest feat, even if you’re only facing an illusionist.” 

I pulled my mask off and shoved it into my pocket, then shrugged. 

“It’s no big deal. They weren’t that strong.” 

“Certainly,” the Arenamaster said, nodding. “But you’ve now killed five mages in our arena, you know that, correct?”

“Yes ma’am,” I said, nodding, feeling my heart rate pick up again. 

“You’re going to be given your very own aura spark,” my mentor said, speaking up. “I think our guest would be best to handle that.”

A veil rippled and a scientist stepped out of the air. I didn’t know how else to describe her – she had on glasses and a lab coat, and even held a clipboard and pen. 

“Right,” the scientist said. “I’m Ellie, and I’ll be facilitating the transfer of uh…” 

She checked the clipboard. 

“Truelight… Terrible name. Anyways. I’ll be transferring their aura spark from where the arena captured it, into you.”

“I thought you had to be at least sixteen to handle that?” I asked. I remembered one of the tutors the Arenamaster had brought in to teach me saying that. 

“Normally, yes,” the Arenamaster said. “But the modification and testing you underwent will allow it.” 

“Well, act–” the scientist, Ellie, started to say, but then her mouth stopped making noise. I glanced around as she opened her mouth, then closed it again. 

The Arenamaster smiled again, though this time it seemed a little strange. 

“It won’t go wrong. Ellie is just being a scientist. You know what they’re like – if there’s even a one percent chance of things going wrong, they have to bring it up. You’re going to take the auraspark just fine, okay?” 

I hadn’t seen it at the time, but looking back, I would have bet everything that my mentor and the arena manager were giving Ellie glares to scare her into keeping her silence. 

“I understand,” I said, nodding. And why should I have doubted her? At that point in my life, I hadn’t ever left the undercity, and even then, I rarely strayed far from the arena. 

“Mister Font,” someone said, and I jerked, brought back into the present moment. My attorney was speaking.