Member
Dae
mickilennial
ArkmageddonCat
Captain Uni
Lemons
Kuro
Asura
GRANT CITY, SUNDAY, 5:30 PM
Merlin’s library is not a place in England, a tangible ruin, or something you can see from space. It’s a quiet, hidden place and what it is in reality astounds me. Merlin’s tower is a pocket dimension in a broom closet. Boy does that sound weird. I “work” at this old middle-of-the-road antiques shop but really it’s more like I’m paid to learn magic… and keep the place clean. Alright, yeah, I do work here but it’s not like I get paid for it. It’s like a lot of hard work and effort for a whole lot of nothing. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all about helping people and charity’s do a lot of good in this world… but it’s really hard getting a pizza when you have thirty-six cents in your pocket.
I was raised Christian, though I imagine if my parents knew what I was doing… they’d think I was questioning god’s power or meddling in the affairs of Satan—but magic isn’t theological—there’s a stream between dimensions and worlds and golly it’s the stuff of fantasy but it’s not—it’s real. It’s so very real and so very amazing and I’m standing on the shore right now looking out where our famous superhero fought some monster or another. I haven’t really understood who the hero was, I just know they’re fighting every day to keep us safe— they’ve said it a few times from the interviews I’ve actually caught.
‘It’s my responsibility to help others. I was born with this gift and I need to use it in this way, it’s a public service.’
Those words may be somewhat inspiring to me, but I feel like I’ve always wanted to do something great and even if I’ve had my head buried in the books and myths; I wanted to do something. It’s why I want to become a person who educates and forms young minds. With “the Mage” alias being tossed around I can do that in my day job and in my night job—well assuming I get through college with all of this magic stuff going on. It’s nifty, but exhausting and every time Merlin decides he’s going to lug a fireball at me I get nervous and anxious and it’s like high school all over again. Daisy Wilson didn’t want to date me and this fireball is going to kill me. Those are my thoughts when that happens—they’re the same thing to me.
“This is really cool. I’m meant to be a hero—a role model. I think.” I say aloud as I smile.
I shuffle my hands in my pockets as I turn around from the shoreline. To think all of this is connected through time and space and that’s where all of ambient magic comes from is pretty neat. It makes you think back to all of the tales of demons & giant monsters and then you see it in a whole new light. It has to be even more taxing for Merlin—he’s practically alone out here and he’s keeping the realm intact and fighting the dimensional problems that sneak through the cracks. Society as it is now couldn’t handle another invasion of demon orcs—though I imagine every dork living in their mother’s basement would be totally okay with that. But if it’s my job to follow Merlin’s lead, then that’s what I’m going to do.
Speaking of his lead I’m pretty much late for tonight’s study! Crap!
Running to my bike, and by bike I don’t mean motorcycle. I’m poor and gas is expensive. Double timing it over to the shop from where I’m at isn’t exactly going to be a skip-and-a-hop, but if I’m lucky I can get there in time… hopefully. But as I prepare to bolt off I hear something apparent as the sun begins to set and it’s like I change into someone else for a second. It's a scream... and a gunshot. With one hand gripping the handlebar and another pulling my hood over my face, I do something I’ve only done once or twice—I head toward the gunshot and scream. Now, a few weeks ago I would have probably crapped myself and ran away but not lately and not today.
Today, Marcus Huxley isn’t here… but a mysterious hooded wizard is.
It’s weird, even with all of the strides Grant City had made there was still a lot of untouched ground and the criminal element still found a way to stalk unsuspecting people who took the wrong turn at Albuquerque. Well, at least I’ve figured out where the scream and gunshot came from. How do I know? Well for one thing there’s a gun being pointed in my general direction as this young woman hides behind me as I hold up a barrier of arcane energy. I’m not exactly sure what this is all about, but this guy isn’t even running when his bullets don’t hit me as I stand in front of his intended target.
“Anybody ever tell you not to do that? It’s kind of rude.”
Sure, insulting the dude with a joke isn’t exactly a good idea but it honestly keeps me from losing my shit. Being able to do something like this doesn’t give me the courage, the wiseass remarks are what do it for me—go figure.
Moving my hands out as I narrow my eyes I prepare my next move—shifting the arcane energy into a blast of energy at the gunman… which sends him flying pretty damn far before colliding with an assortment of garbage cans. Ouch. I didn’t even mean to throw him that far! I hope he’s uh… not dead or something. Why would he be dead? I just tossed him back a few feet—yeah, no big deal.
“You know what they say; crime flies when you’re having fun.” Glancing back I look at the girl from underneath my hood, “I think you should go.”
She nods, though I have this feeling she was about to utter the cliché ‘who are you’ inquiry and I totally don’t have an answer for that. The best I have is “The Mage” and that name was given to me by some lady at the newspaper who I saved one time and totally wants to know my secret. Why can’t reporters leave heroes alone, anyway?
I shake my head at the thought. “I really should be getting along, anyway. Merlin’s going to be livid.”
With that muttered under my breath I run back to my bicycle and get back to what I’m supposed to be doing: learning how to use the arcane and why it’s important to keep the astral gates closed. I mean it’s not like I didn’t learn that in one day or anything—the gates are open and everybody’s nightmares from every dimension have a free “world tour” pass and nobody wants that. I don’t want that. I’m not a fan of the idea of demons or zombies or what-the-heck ever exists through the beyond. As for learning, I guess I’m getting much much better with it and I have pretty much the best teacher for it ever. I mean, he’s frickin’ Merlin.
…I just hope he isn’t throwing fireballs today.
I don’t like fireballs.
GRANT CITY, MONDAY, 12:10 PM
It’s been a some time since I was late for Merlin’s study, but it didn’t really go all that bad and he didn’t throw any fireballs at me.
I go to school at Grant College, though I've been sort of focusing on something not school-related. What I have in front of me is a compendium of magical history that was based on a translation (or so I’m told) of Greek texts put together by Circe. Yeah, Circe was real. I’m still digesting that bit of information but this was back during a time when the astral gates were open—so it’s not exactly out of this world. But I’m here in Bristol’s cafeteria next to my only other friend that isn’t my roommate. What I’ve known about Roxie since we met on a chance encounter was that apparently like me she was really into old mythlore and legends. So I thought we’d talk about a little book by the name of…
“De Praeceptis Artis Magicae.” Roxie’s voice ran over as I showed her the latin compendium that I’ve been reading. Roughly translated it means ‘rules of magic’ and while I probably shouldn’t be showing people anything related to magic—I feel a connection here and as my only female friend ever I sort of want to strengthen that bond.
“You know latin?”
I admit my understanding of the language isn’t the best comprehension ever, but it was something my grandfather forced me to learn at a young age. It’s something I’ve recently learned has come most in handy since a lot of old world text that I’ve been reading is latin or dead languages—though Merlin has been helping me with the dead languages part. In the last year alone I’ve been learning Pictish, Cambric, Cornish, and Gaulish in addition to an extensive refresher course on the Latin language. Some I guess would argue that these languages would be more daunting than the magical part of training, but I’m not so sure.
“Roughly, so it’ll take me some time to translate it to paper, but I thought you’d be interested in it since we sort of… have the same… interests?” My voice is a bit shaky, but the earnestness is there. Though if Merlin found out I was sort of translating something he gave me to study—and only me at that… I’m pretty sure I’d be in big trouble or in for a terrible scolding. I don’t want either of those things but I’m still for some reason doing it.
She smirked, “Yeah, because you totally are into punk rock and car engines.”
“Oh, come on! I meant about the myth stuff!”
“I’m just joking, calm your tits.”
I knew that. Really, I did.
“Oh.”
Okay, so it went over my head.
Okay, I admit that I’m sort of an idiot, but the only jokes I know are the ones I say to make sure I don’t crap myself when I’m “fighting crime”. Consider who I’m surrounded by—a eccentric but obsessive old wizard, my best friend David Richards who likes to use his interest in psychology to armchair my mentality, and most recently Roxie Llywelyn—a girl is as alien to me as anything else. If anything I’m at least amusing Roxie with my own dumbfounded idiocy… so there is that. Never knew the “idiotic dork” was something that worked. Not that it’s a façade, though it’d be something else if I was that devious.
I’m as subtle as a bull in a china shop, so straight-up lying (let alone putting on a façade) is a little out of my skill-set.
Roxie laughed as she shook her head, “Hux’, you’re some kind of a idiot aren’t you?”
“…I guess so.” I say with a nervous smirk, I guess I’m a little bit embarrassed by that.
“Anyway, I gotta run—work in twenty.”
Damn it, I forgot about that; I guess it gives me time to translate it a little bit and go over it with her next time we’re in-between classes.
“Got it.” I nod.
As Roxie leaves I began to wonder something to myself: where have the days gone?
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself as I look back on the last few weeks and wonder why it feels like I’ve been drifting for three months doing nothing. I’ve done a lot, I mean I’m no grandiose superhero that flutters over the news but I’m pretty sure I’ve been a positive influence on more than one person’s life in this city. I’ve dealt mostly with run-of-the-mill guys, though I’m pretty sure one of those guys was a hitman so maybe it’s a little grandiose after all?
Maybe.
But probably not.
Merlin’s been running me through circles in the afternoons I have, School is exhausting, and keeping the streets somewhat manageable at night is pretty much something that takes a degree of energy out of me. So maybe it’s not that I’m not special and nothing has happened to me since I started talking to Roxie, but rather that I’m doing too much in-and-out. How am I going to keep this up when I become a teacher in a few years?
“Sorry that I’m late principal somebody, I’ve been casting spells on petty thieves all night so I woke up pretty late!” doesn’t exactly sound like a promising way to start off a career to me. But I guess that’s all speculative hoo-haw that I need to deal with later instead of now when I don’t even have a degree yet.
Merlin says he’s working with something real special soon, that I’m ready for the next step in my training but I’m not so sure since he’s said this to me a few times before and the last time I got a bunch of books of dead or near-dead languages to comprehend. I wonder what language has to do with magic when through simple concentration and the right scientific process I can cause something to levitate without uttering a word. This isn’t anime where I have to yell out my technique for it to be powerful, or at least I don’t think so.
Guess I’ll find out soon.
