Fallen Mage Regressor

Mal ran his hand along the ivy-covered walls. “You know, this really was the worst environment you could have chosen to face me down in.”

Vraxis growled. “Stop standing around you idiots, get him!”

One of the other demons stared at Mal's knife. “Didn't you see what happened to?”

“It was just a fluke! You know just as well as I do that the sort of power you're thinking of isn't available to wizards until after years of training!”

“If that's the case, then what happened?!”

“Alfago was weak, that's what happened.”

One of the other demons stepped forward. “Enough talk. I was promised human blood, and I intend to collect.”

The demon shot forward and swiped its claws through the air. Mal ducked backward and thrust his dagger forward. The demon parried the blow and responded with his own slice, claws gleaming like daggers as they moved through the air.

Mal dodged back. Green caught his eyes. Ivy to the demon's right.

He focused on his bramblevine bracelet.

The ivy sprung out and wrapped around the demon like a grassy tomb. While it was trapped, Mal dived forward and stabbed the dagger directly into its chest.

Another horn and another orb hit the ground.

Dead silence.

Vraxis's breathing picked up. “You... bastard! You're a blood witch, aren't you?!”

“I could be.”

He didn't know what that was, but it seemed to scare the demons to death, so he might as well let them think that.

“Just our luck. Of all the affinities, you just had to be a blood witch.” Vraxis clenched its jaw. “Let's go. We'll find our way back to hell and report back.”

The other demons nodded. Their wings spread out and—

“Did I say you could go?”

More vines sprung out and wrapped around each of the remaining demons. Vraxis roared and fire burnt the ivies to a crisp.

Mal closed the distance and stabbed at its face. Vraxis dived backwards and barely avoided the strike. One of the demons did the same burning trick and tried to take off for a second time. Mal sent out another stream of vines and caught its leg. Mal pulled the creature to the ground, then jumped into the air and delivered a devastating thrust to the neck.

It wheezed in pain and lit up, then disintegrated into sparkles of light and flame. Mal ran over to the third one who remained trapped and stabbed it in the chest as well. It fell over limp, then disintegrated.

Mal turned his head toward Vraxis.

Vraxis scrambled back on the ground and hit the alley wall.

Mal took several steps, each one purposefully long and pointed. They clicked against the stone and echoed in the alleyway like funeral bells.

“Now, I think I need some answers, don’t you?”

“Leave me alone!”

Mal kicked the demon in the jaw. “How many cultists are in the city?”

“I won’t answer—”

Mal pointed the dagger at it’s throat.

It gulped.

“O—one.”

“One?”

“They’re keeping their presence small. The headmaster, he’s too dangerous, they can’t afford to bring too many people in.”

“But still, only one?”

“There used to be more, but then someone new came in—I don’t know who they are, but the higher ups of the cult and the demons trust him implicitly.”

Mal pressed the dagger forward. “Anything else I should know?”

“No, that’s all I know, I swear!”

Mal twirled the dagger in his hand. “See you in hell, Vraxis. Save a spot for me, okay?”

Vraxis screamed and held out its hand for a spell. Mal got ready to back up.

Vraxis's spine tensed. The mana flowed back into his body abruptly. A failed spell.

“Damn you, Herald—!”

Mal delivered two quick slashes in an X-form across the demon's chest.

It disintegrated and Mal was left alone.

He looked at the dagger. The blade had been stained with ash, not blood. That made sense—demons weren't really physical creatures in the same way that Mal was.

He leaned down and picked up the orb of infernal essence.

He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. He had a theory about this—that he would be able to “wrap” the orb in his own mana to stabilize it. It would be exhausting and he would probably have to keep it up until he finally used the orb or found a more sustainable method of storing it,

And, you know, he'd literally never done this before and it was a completely untested theory.

He brought small traces of his mana out using the same technique he used to clean his room of unaligned mana.

They reached the tips of his fingers and he enclosed his hand around the orb.

It pulsed in his hand like a heart on the verge of bursting.

Mal poured more of his personal mana into his fingers.

The orb pulsed faster and faster—then slowly came down from its high until it stabilized into a cool, unmoving orb of red.

Mal raised his eyebrows. He'd been expecting it to still be active, but it had gone completely inert.

He pulled away his mana.

Nothing happened. It was completely still.

"How curious," he muttered. "My mana seemingly neutralized the orb. Has it become nothing more than a useless hunk of material, then?"

Mal would have to investigate it further and see if it was still active.

He slid the orb into his satchel and shut it.

Footsteps from the other end of the alley.

"Mal?" the voice said. "Are you okay?!"

Rolam moved faster than he'd ever moved before. The world was a blur to him, every iota of his brain focused on one thing, and one thing only—catching up with Mal.

He'd dropped off Hypode at a clinic where they promised to take care of him. Once they realized that he was a noble, they promised to take extra good care of him.

Hypode was going to get squeezed for every dime he was worth, but Rolam figured that such a fate was better than dying.

His shoes clicked against the steps rapid fire. A person.

He stopped in front of a man. "Did you see another Academy student run by here?"

The man furrowed his eyebrows together. "Yes, just a few minutes ago."

"Where did he go?"

The man jumped back from the intensity of Rolam's voice.

"T—that way!" he said.

"Thanks!"

Rolam broke back into his sprint. The air smelled like garbage—rotten fruit and crap. The further he ran, the deeper he went into the city, and the worse the smell got.

He arrived at a dead end. His body pivoted, he turned around ,and ran in the other direction.

"Mal!" he shouted. "Mal, where are you?!"

A woman with crooked teeth stuck her head out of one of the side house windows. "Boy, are you looking for another student who went by here?"

Rolam slammed his heels into the ground and shot his neck back around toward the woman. "I am."

"They stopped in front of here. Well, he did. There was a woman with a funny look. She told him to go in the direction you're running."

"Thank you!"

"—I'm not done yet!" the woman growled. "I've been in this part of town long enough to know when somebody's getting led on a ride. Your friend might be in serious trouble."

Rolam felt the blood drain from his face.

Mal was about to get trapped, if he hadn't been already.

"Thank you, can you call the guards?"

She shook her head. "The city guards aren't gonna come to this part of town"

"There's a demon on the loose!"

She frowned and shook her head. "They're definitely not going to come if I say that. They're going to say that I'm drunk."

Damn it.

Rolam clenched his fists.

"At least take shelter."

"That, I can do."

She shut the window. Rolam rushed off away from the house.

The sound of an impact.

He sped up.

"—Mal!"

He turned the corner.

Mal stood alone, dagger in hand, and covered in ash. Rolam reached out his hand—

He faced Rolam.

A strange feeling crept down Rolam's spine. The light reflected off the dagger funny, and there was a strange look in Mal's eyes. Rolam felt as if he were staring at a predator, ready to gobble him up, rather than his friend and leader.

Rolam took a step back instinctively.

"Mal?" He stretched out a hand. "Are—are you okay?"

Mal tilted his head. "I'm fine. Do I look unwell?"

"I heard fighting! I thought you'd gotten hit."

"There was no fighting."

Rolam attempted to process these words in his mind.

"No... I definitely heard a fight."

"It must have come from another alley."

"Mal, you're holding a dagger."

"It was for just in case."

"Do you seriously expect me to believe that?"

Mal walked up to Rolam and sheathed the dagger in one smooth motion. He came side-to-side with Rolam, not even bothering to look back at him.

"I think it's about time we headed back," he said.

"What about the demon?" Rolam turned and faced him. "Shouldn't we alert the city watch?"

"I was mistaken. And anyway, they're not going to believe us anyway. Hypode will be a much better person to provide testimony."

"Shouldn't we still show up?"

"We wouldn't be able to help the situation. It's best if we just stay out of it."

Rolam looked at Mal, then at the ash. "You killed them, didn't you? On your own."

"As I said, I don't know what you're talking about."

Before Rolam could say anything else, Mal turned the corner and walked off.

Rolam shifted in place, then dashed off after Mal.

Rolam didn't have any evidence other than his own testimony. It was him versus Mal.

Maybe I did imagine things, Rolam thought. I mean, Mal is powerful, but it took all three of us to take down that demon last time. How could he have beat one on his own?

But even as he thought it, he knew he couldn't fool himself.

"I know what I heard, Mal," he said.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"And I know that's going to be your response. It disappoints me that you feel the need to lie to me about this."

Mal fell silent.

"Do as you will," Rolam said. "But I'm not going to lie for you. If anyone asks, I'm telling the truth."

"Fine."

The two started walking.

Rolam stiffened. His eyes darted across the rooftops. "Someone's following us."

Mal's shoulders tensed and his hand twitched toward the dagger Rolam knew he had hidden in his cloak.

"Where?"

"They were up there on the roof, but they moved locations."

Rolam's eyes scanned across the different buildings. "They can't have made it far. It—"

"Honestly, you're such a pain to get a hold of."

The voice came from behind them.

Rolam dived forward and turned awkwardly. He stumbled back and put himself into a facsimile of a fighting stance.

Mal turned on a dime, then relaxed and breathed a sigh. "Please don't sneak up on us like that."

Rolam felt his own shoulders slacken. He looked back and forth between Hemp and Mal. "Mal, you know this girl?"

"I do." He gestured at her. "Rolam, meet Hemp. A business associate of mine."

Hemp snorted. "Charmed."

“Why, exactly, did we have to arrange things at a bar?”

Mal looked down at the cloudy water that he’d been given. Hemp, opposite to him, took the glass and tilted it back toward her throat. She rubbed her sleeve against her lips to wipe off the remnants.

Rolam, thankfully, wasn't there. They'd spun up some lie and it'd seemed like he was too shocked that Mal talked with other human beings to ask anything of import.

“A few reasons,” she said. “First, it’s a public location. It would be hard for you to get the jump on me in a place like this."

"Fair enough. And the second reason?”

“Not only is it a public location, it’s also one where I have a working relationship with most of the people here. They’re not going to rush to my aid or anything, but I can trust that they at least won’t screw me over and that they won't side with you.”

Mal shrugged. “Fair enough. I do have one more question, though.”

“What?”

“Why on earth would you take us to a bar and then get water?”

She sneered and slammed her glass against the table. “Alcohol is the spawn of the four-horned one, and no one can convince me otherwise!”

Mal raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his water.

“You have a very strong moral compass for a professional thief.”

“Save it.” Her tone dropped. “It’s not like I do this out of choice. An uneducated peasant girl with no family doesn’t exactly have a lot of options. It was either this or selling my body.”

“I know.” Mal kept his tone casual. “I was just commenting.”

“Leave your comments to yourself.”

The two fell into an uneasy silence. Hemp tapped her index finger against the table, looked away from Mal, then looked back at him.

“I’ve been thinking about your offer.”

“Yeah? Have you made a decision?”

“I’ll take the job. But I expect to be compensated well.”

“Not worried about screwing the church over?”

“The church can go to hell.” She scoffed and swirled the water in her glass. “I follow Eternus, not those idiots in white robes.”

Mal was about to ask a follow-up question when Hemp barreled on.

“I already started doing some preliminary work. It looks like he stores most of his research material in his office. Fat bastard—” She hissed. “Fat... loser... has his own private office in his house. It’s in one of the higher-class sections, so there’s going to be city guards patrolling the area. Not only that, but we can expect wards and the like to be protecting his home.”

“Do you already have plans for how to deal with it?”

“I’ve stolen from a few homes in the area once or twice. The main problem isn’t difficulty, it’s time. I’m not really a proper mage. All I use is pre-supplied tools. So because of that, it takes a long time to crack things.”

“What if you had a proper mage with you?”

She snorted. “Then it would probably be a lot easier. I’m vaguely acquainted with how ward breaking works. If the mage was good enough, they might even be able to figure out the rest on their own. But I don’t see anybody like that around.”

“So I’ll just come with you.”

She turned and furrowed her eyebrows at him. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You need a proper mage, like what you just described. It’ll make things easier for both of us. And besides, Cornelias’s—”

“A horrible person. Someone who should never be within twenty miles of you. Scum-sucking garbage.”

“—a dangerous person. It’s good if you have backup.”

She laughed. “The client doesn’t come along with the service provider. That’s not how it works. What if you get caught?”

“What if you get caught?”

“That’s not the point—” She pinched the bridge of her nose, then took it off and glared at Mal. “I don’t know what this is, but I don’t need your help, if that’s what you’re trying to imply. I can figure this out on my own.”

“I know you’re the best in the business. I know you can handle it. That’s why I hired you. I just figure that if I can make your job easier, it’ll speed up the process for me.”

“I... I guess? But—”

Mal stood up from the bar table. He reached into his wallet and set a coin on the table.

Her jaw dropped. “What are you doing?!”

“Well, you already did a bunch of work by tracking him and finding out where his materials were stored. I figured it was only fair that you get an advance on your payment.”

“But I didn’t—we haven’t even agreed to anything—!”

“No, we did.”

Her face turned several interesting shades of red. Mal couldn’t suppress the laughter inside of him. “I’ll see you around, Hemp.”

He walked off toward the entrance and left the building.

It was when he was halfway back to the school that he realized he should have figured out an easier way for her to contact him rather than her having to randomly find him in the city.

“Oops,” he said.

Mal stretched out on his bed. His bones clicked audibly and he let out a pained wheeze.

His spine hurt. Why did his spine hurt? He was eighteen. Not only that, but he was actually starting to get into decent shape due to all of that exercise.

“I must have strained myself during that fight yesterday,” he muttered.

As much as he wanted to lounge in bed all day, he knew that he had classes and training to do with the rest of his circle. He forced himself out of bed and ignored the pain. He stumbled into the common room like a drunkard.

“Mal!”

“Ape, you’re finally awake!”

“Honorable leader, we were wondering when you’d finally get up.”

“Master.”

All three of his circlemates were sitting on the table, looking at him. Lusia was at the back, near the wall, hands folded together in front of her.

“How late is it?”

Mal glanced at the window. The sun had clearly already risen from the amount of light streaming through. “Oh.”

Philo waved him off. “Don’t stress about it, Ape. It’s the weekend, anyway. We’ve been working hard nonstop for the past several days, we’re due for a break anyway. Especially after what happened yesterday.”

Mal felt his heart drop. “What happened yesterday?”

“Hypode nearly dying? You and Rolam going on some foolhardy quest to see if the cult was active?” Philo shook his head. “The demons could still be out there, too. A rather chilling thought.”

Rolam shifted in his chair and glanced off to the window.

Mal's shoulders slackened. It seemed that Rolam had avoided telling Philo of his suspicions.

"Yeah, the whole sequence of events was pretty terrifying," Mal said.

"We were actually talking," Nima said. "And we were thinking of canceling the training session for today and going out to get more materials."

Mal glanced around at the common room. They'd managed to replace a substantial portion of the floor and much of the walls were repaired. With that said, it was clear that they needed more.

"We're closing in on the end," Mal said. "Which is nice. I do hope we get the hole in my floor patched."

"There's a hole in your floor?" Rolam asked.

"The one with the dead rats, remember?" Philo said.

Rolam turned a little green, then swallowed and shook his head. "I'd been trying to forget. I'd succeeded, right up until you reminded me."

"Besides that," Philo said. "Philo read about a magical workshop advertising jobs. Philo would like to check it out and see if it would be a good fit for Philo."

"You're interested in item construction?" Mal asked.

"Somewhat. Philo thinks it would be a fun skill to learn."

Mal couldn't argue with that.

"All right then," Mal said. "Let's go learn about this magic workshop."

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