Demonic Magician

I lay against the bear, who appeared to be asleep still, somehow. He clearly needed the rest, if not only to take a breather from the conflict we kept getting into, but he also probably needed to catch up on his digestion from everything he had been eating.

Ren and Quinn had gone back into the cottage, intending on using the cooker to make us all some food rather than us sticking to the campfire. Tanya remained outside beside the fire, nursing a steaming cup of coffee.

“You told Ren, didn’t you?” Wolf murmured, his voice vibrating through the back of my head.

“Yeah.”

He grunted, but didn’t seem annoyed by the fact. It was only fair she was kept in the loop with regards to his health. The trio of us were family now. Whether it was just exhaustion or he really was getting old, the elf deserved to know as much as I did - hence my simple, unapologetic answer. He didn’t press the issue.

Leaving him to his nap, I stood and went to sit near Tanya. “Doing okay?”

Her eyes went up to me briefly, before back out to the woods. The distracted look melted away and her hands grasped at her mug a little tighter. “I just wish I understood this place a little better…”

“The System?”

“Yeah.” She looked down at the hot drink. “At first I thought this was some sort of purgatory or punishment, but occasionally we get these little slices of… bliss, and it doesn’t feel right. Undeserved, almost.”

“Punishment,” I repeated. Most people we had met here were some shade of asshole, but I didn’t think it likely we were here just for the sins of our past. That she should bring it up, though…

Tanya looked over at the sleeping bear, then the cottage, before looking at me. “You can keep a secret, Max?”

"Of course." I nodded.

“I wasn’t exactly the best person in my old life. Had my share of demons.” She shook her head at the humor of saying that to me, of all people. “Bad childhood, full of chaos. Joined the military and the… order of it soothed me. Became accomplished when I left, but the real world has a lot of chaos that I struggled to adjust to, no matter how much order I tried to build up around me. A lot of the last year is a hazy blur, yet strangely, I remember the day I came to this world with such clarity.”

I remained silent as she gazed off toward the horizon.

“I was in a diner for breakfast, reading the newspaper. Something I usually avoided. The biggest story on the front page was how a diner out west had exploded. Gas leak or something. Two dozen dead, including three young adults. It… crushed me, despite being so detached from it.” Tanya furrowed her brow, as if she still struggled to understand it.

“How life could just be taken. All those futures, and it that could just as easily happen to me, in that diner, right then. The sheer chaos and how everything could be changed, and I’d have no control at all over my safety.” Tanya paused for a moment, as if those feelings had started to tug at her anew. “And you know what I did? You think I went home to my husband and daughter, enjoyed living and not taking things for granted?” She turned back to me now, pain wracking at her eyes.

All I could do was raise an eyebrow and wait for the crescendo.

“No. I did not.” She shook her head and looked at her coffee. “Skipped out on work and hit the liquor. A little self-destructive escapism to try to feel okay. That my choices were my own. Got into an argument with Paul. Left in my car. Drove drunk... went off the road and hit a tree. Out of the windshield, and then I remember the bright pink washing over me.” She bit her top lip. “Thought I died. I… should have died.”

“You received a second chance,” I said.

Tanya shrugged. “Since being here, I’ve quit smoking and drinking. Best physical shape that I’ve been in almost a decade. Mentally, I’m calm, less anxious. In some ways, this has been a miracle.”

“But you can’t let go of those left behind?”

“The last words exchanged with my husband were ones of anger, and the last memory my daughter has of me is me being in a deranged state. For the two things I love most in life, that is unacceptable.” She sighed deeply. “But… they probably think I died, and maybe that’s for the best?”

“Tanya, if we find a way back then-”

“It’s okay, Max.” She gave me the saddest smile I’d ever seen. Her normally stoic confidence totally absent from her face. “They deserve better. Maybe I’m not meant for that world.”

It had been easy for me to move on from what little connections I had back on Earth, and I was selfish enough to not consider Reggie or the show as soon as I landed in Othea. Ren had lost Flynn on arrival here, and seemed distant enough from her parents and the responsibility she was supposed to inherit. There were similar tones to it, though.

“Ren would be the best one to talk to in regards to loss and moving on.” I removed my hat and placed it on my lap. “But it’s not my place to tell her story. You’re the one who told me to always fight for love, remember?” I sighed, ill-equipped for this sort of conversation. “For what it’s worth, the Tanya sitting before me isn’t an irredeemable asshole.”

“Thanks, Max. Fighting is often easier said than done, it seems.” She smiled and wiped at her eyes with the back of her forearm. “Hadn’t even told my old Party all that. Something about you guys just makes an old gal soft. Perhaps this can be like my rehab. Iron out those flaws, whether or not I can go back.”

I grinned and leaned back in my chair. “We’re all odd and flawed. Whatever we were previously, I feel like the System has forged us into something new. We’re willing to take you as you are now and will support you in your growth.”

Tanya closed her eyes as she took a sip of coffee. “I was worried at first that you trusted me because you were too gullible or desperate. But it quickly became apparent that you were clued in to the stakes and would take on the risks required to get ahead.”

With a nod, I turned my eyes over to the cottage just as the door opened up to reveal Ren carrying a large pot of something. “Likewise, I wanted to onboard you as quickly as possible. We don’t have the luxury of not knowing if you are trustworthy and doing a long vetting process.”

“Confident enough to put your life on the line as well?”

“Now, now, Tanya.” I shot her a wry grin. “We both know I was in no real danger there.”

She narrowed her eyes and sighed. “Of course, a magician wouldn’t leave something to chance?”

I raised my eye back up to Ren as she stood beside us and lowered the large pot onto an empty chair. “Well, I don’t know about that,” I said. “I’m open to some surprises.”

The elf looked at me and put her hands on her hips. “Well, don’t get excited. It’s a stew. Didn’t start as one, but that’s how it turned out.”

My amusement at how she had only clocked the tail end of my statement without context was only strengthened by how exasperated she looked over the results of the cooking. I looked back at the house. “No Quinn?” Maybe she had cooked him. I should be concerned that was one of my first thoughts.

“He is taking five minutes, as I called him some bad names.” She gave us a shrug. “Some people just don’t cook well together.”

Although she hadn’t seemed like much of a commanding chef in our time spent together, it was quite possible that in making something more than a simple grilled meal she had a clearer vision of what she wanted to do, and the fixer was stepping on her figurative toes.

“Also, he stepped on my feet twice.” Ren lifted the lid from the ceramic stew pot and allowed a billowing cloud of steam to escape. “Once is forgivable, but I only have so much patience.”

It worried me how often the narrative followed what I suspected it to be. Perhaps my ability to read people and plot out eventualities and viable outcomes had saturated my being so much that I was now believing myself to be prophetic. Being two and a half beings squashed together certainly did something for the brainpower… and ego, that was for sure.

I turned to see Wolf beside us, waiting patiently for the hot meal. Hadn’t even heard him move.

He caught my eye and grinned at me. “My new skill improves my stealth in woodland terrain.”

“Nice. Oh, Ren, what did you get when you leveled?”

She turned from the pot, ladle in hand and awaiting Tanya’s bowl. “Oh. Nothing impressive.”

“Bullshit.”

Her eyes narrowed at my scepticism. “Fine. It’s like a single target curse that causes additional radiant damage when they’re attacked.”

I nodded eagerly. “A target? Does it have to be a Player or Monster?” With my hand, I gestured to the nearest object, which happened to be Quinn’s chair.

Relenting to my request, she turned and opened up her free palm towards the wooden seat. With a small flash, it became illuminated with a faint golden sheen. “It also prevents Invisibility, I guess.”

From my belt, a fan of mundane cards came out and hovered beside me. I flicked one out, striking the chair. Another flash, this one brighter, emanated from the aura and sent small sparks into the air. It was delightful. I sent three more normal cards in succession against the glow, each providing a bloom of light and dazzling sparkles.

And then the chair fell apart, broken at each joint as if it had taken enough damage to destroy its very spirit of existence.

We turned as Quinn now stepped out of the cottage, looking a little forlorn, but apparently recovered from the verbal lashing Ren had dealt out. The elf started ladling stew into provided bowls as we sat in silence.

With a sheepish grin, he reached our seating arrangement and withdrew his own bowl, before noticing the state of his chair.

“Wolf sat on it,” I offered.

“That’s beneath me,” the bear grumbled.

I gave him a grin. “Sure was. Don’t worry though, Quinn. If you’re in the market for a new chair, I have the greatest variety in the area.”

While he stood—slightly bewildered—and Ren filled up his bowl, I emerged from my chair and waved my cape across. Three chairs of varying designs appeared in its wake. A good chair was always needed, and I never missed the chance to abscond with as many as I could take. Within reason - I needed room for all the other random assortment of things.

In the time he took deliberating, I realized two things. The first was how quickly I put down the three items - and while normally it was little effort, I had reached a slightly higher step where time between object manipulation had decreased. Not by a long shot, but enough to make the process easier on my eyes and brain.

The second thing was that I had used my mundane cards as an attack. While they would do no damage to a real target, they seemed to cause Ren’s new skill to pulse with the radiant damage, nonetheless. I’d need to pick her brains on the exact wording of the ability, as I may be able to shock the entirety of the stored damage at once with a flurry of cards.

“Bowl, trickster.”

Ren’s prodding took me out of my idle thoughts, and I held it out. I received three generous scoops of the stew before she started to sort her own out. As I couldn’t let a good deed go unpunished, I dropped my bowl. Tanya and Quinn weren’t expecting it, but it piqued Wolf’s interest. Ren had already seen too much of my nature to be bothered by it.

The bowl didn’t hit the ground, however - it simply vanished. I turned and stepped back over to my own chair and picked up my hat to reveal the steaming stew beneath.

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to play with your food?” Tanya scowled at me.

I clicked my fingers as I grinned at her. “Speaking of which, let’s talk about knocking over that blood courier.”