“Godsdamn it, peasant! Watch your step!”

“Apologies, senior.”

I smiled and backed away from the fire mage to give him more space. His gold necklace and bracelets clinking heavily. He snarled at me as my eyes narrowed and nostrils flared on their own account. The smile was one of my best efforts, unfortunately the rest of my face didn’t quite follow along. The man’s gold inlaid crimson cloak turned smartly from me as he indignantly stomped down the corridor.

The bastard had followed his usual routine, purposely bumping into me even though there was a foot of space between us. Most others hid their accidental impacts with a gap of inches, but this fellow really wanted a piece of me. His room was in the hall below my tower, so we often stumbled upon one another. He had tried to incite me numerous times, but I knew from his powerful display near the wall that I wouldn’t stand a chance against him. In a fair fight anyways.

I watched as his slave, a thin mousey girl, came up to me. Adeptly I handed her half a sandwich which she quickly hid in her tattered robes. She nodded and sprinted hurriedly after her master.

It had only taken a few days to fall into this routine. Her master, Fastus Adrogantio, was from a well to do merchant’s family. While owning a slave wasn’t necessarily a sign of wealth, having one accompany a young member of a family was a very good indication.

I had slowly gained the trust of his slave, talking to her and giving her gifts of food. For as wealthy as Fastus was, he was equally as stingy in feeding the girl. Excluding those meant for hard labor (and even these were not uncared for), slaves were generally well treated in the Republic. They were investments after all, you don’t buy a wagon and not oil the wheels. A waste and a crime in my opinion. But he was one of those with more money than brains.

The loyalty of a slave is always suspect, even with the magical restraining collars. Nonetheless well treated ones could be fairly reliable. The girl had slowly opened up to me, amazing what a smile and a few scraps of food were capable of. I didn’t have a concrete plan in mind, but far better to lay a solid foundation before making any moves.

The girl’s fate was not something I was too worried about, she was only a minor piece in this game. I smiled as I performed a small chant to unlock the door leading up to my room. I shut the door behind me and trudged up the spiraling stone staircase. Apparently, my small spire bedroom was drafty and the roof leaked, which was, of course, why it was assigned to me. I performed a second chant to undo the enchantment on the topmost door. At least there were two locks between me and everyone else.

I shut the door and examined the four holes on either side of the door. It would be another few days of drilling/chipping away before they were deep enough to set up two large brackets so that I could bar the door. The enchantments were supposedly all unique for each room’s occupant, but I’d still feel safer with a heavy piece of sawed timber barring the door. I might be able to get it done if I worked throughout the night...

I sighed heavily, no. It had been a long enough day as it was. Morning exercise with Kevin, Verdia, and Mintha, followed by training with the Vice Dean, and then garbage and Spire maintenance duties. The exercise business was just as pointless and annoying as all the days prior. I doubted it was doing anything, but it was better not to risk it, that and I could keep up with Kevin. He and his coterie typically sat with the other worlders now. There was a chance I could’ve made myself a space there, but I had my pride. We Rimoudes are many things, but never beggars.

I had tried to strike up a conversation with him a few times in the hallways, or outside. Each time he found an excuse to send me on my way, hastily if any of his Earth friends were around. Kevin was drifting outside my sphere of influence, and I still wasn’t sure if that was for the best or not. Before returning to my room he had finally delivered the goods he promised me, so that part of his debt was repaid. I could forgive a portion of what he owed me, depending on what he had procured.

The brown burlap sack was quickly placed on the bed. Rummaging through it, I removed four cell phones (two with some energy remaining), a large flat grey rectangle with a white face, ten small cylinders, two liquid filled strikers (lighties, lightors, ugh, there was a word for a them), and several other miscellaneous objects.

Carefully stroking each of the cell phones brightened my mood. My current thought was to have two on me at any time just in case those barks came back. The strikers were incredibly useful, though limited to only one fourth of their fuel remaining. The large rectangle was potentially my greatest haul from Kevin, though its energy had been exhausted. It was incredibly dangerous, but the rewards were too great for me to turn it down.

The device was known as a Kindal, another other worlder had brought it with him but decided to sell it once it couldn’t be used. Supposedly, there were thousands of books inside, just waiting to be perused. My mouth salivated, the gains from these could be immeasurable, though so to would be my suffering if anyone discovered what I was up to. Luckily, no one really bothered with lightning devices as they always ran low on fuel, ending up little more than interesting paper weights or art.

Whether or not I would be able to understand the script was another potential problem. Though, if someone with Kevin’s metal acumen could understand my language, just how hard could it be to understand his?

The larger issue was figuring out a way to fuel it, hence the little cylinders, or batteries as Kevin called them. For whatever asinine reason, they couldn’t be added to the device or exchange their power with it, making them useless power sources in my opinion. Though given enough time, I was hopeful I could come up with something. If not, well, no huge loss, unlike Kevin.

Though he did still owe me at least 1 gold, taking into account all these little oddities, his attitude, annoying character, and friend preferences were not conducive to my ends. And this was excluding his apparent avoidance of myself save our exercise sessions. I was hopeful I could get one or two more errands from my slower runner, but afterwards all his goodwill towards me would no doubt be used up. Admittedly I wasn’t the best of friends, but I did what I could for those who were on my side.

I had come to know the girls a bit more from our exercise sessions. Mintha was very quiet, and never let her hood down. She was very stoic and rational, which I immediately liked about her. Verdia was brash, but sly. Oddly enough, both refused to name their hometowns. Here in the Republic, that’s typically the first information one offers. Like myself, most identify with their city, even if they’re from an outlying hamlet or camp. Their refusal to state their hometowns was similar to answering a “How are you?” with a chilly silence. The only thing more annoying than the girls’ strange omittances, was Verdia’s demeanor towards Kevin.

While hating him more than life itself, she was sickeningly sweet to him. A shame Kevin couldn’t see that for what it was. When a woman dotes on a man, she wants something. In the most optimistic of cases, she only wants a little attention. Women are only inscrutable in that it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly what they want at any said moment. Sadly for Kevin, with this woman in this moment, it would be his life.

I thought of trying to warn him, but I was certain he wouldn’t believe me. Killing Verdia was a sure-fire solution, but would complicate things far too much, and potentially raise suspicions. Besides, that was his problem and dealing with Fastus was higher on my list of people I wanted dead.

There was also a bit of pettiness that affected my rationale. Kevin might not have said so openly, but he was trying to sidestep me. Something I had copious experience with thanks to my previous friends. I wasn’t doing a favor for someone who not only probably wouldn’t be paying me back, but who was attempting to avoid me. I let out an angry growl before slowing my breathing and trying to calm down. Be productive, standing here hating Kevin for being a Godsdamn turncoat won’t do you any good…

I placed the self-strikers and two cell phones in my desk before carefully storing the other items away in the chest. Sitting down at my desk, I stared at the large copper pitcher of water. Waving my hand in a sweeping motion, the water easily flowed through into the air, hovering as a head sized ball above my hand. My control and speed were far better now. The sphere was the easiest shape to make, just apply pressure from all sides equally, add water’s attraction to itself, and voila.

Focusing, I managed to create enough force to squeeze the ball from six different points. Slowly a squarish shape began to take form, then right when I had a sloppy looking square, the sides kept pushing inwards, giving every face a spherically concave impression. My application of force away from the center of the six points was tenuous. The edges spluttered as water splashed outwards away from the construct before being tactfully circled back into the edges. If I failed to reprocess the leaky edges, my square would eventually shrink to nothing.

I relented a bit on the pressure, allowing the concave faces to gradually expand outwards, slowly becoming flatter. The edges became even more volatile, the constant splurting now a mild whooshing as the water recycled itself quicker and quicker. Large drops began to escape my control, the faces now flat as they were perfectly flush with the edges. Continuing their trend, the faces began to pop outwards, forming small convex bulges on all six faces.

Sweat was forming on my brow, my heart was beating furiously. The pinprick sensation began, but as I added more pressure to stop the bulging, there was a slicing sensation. I was exhausted from my earlier practice. As my abilities had improved, so to had the consequences from continuing to use my arcane past my SP. My heart felt as though someone were performing multiple, delicate cuts left to right and top to bottom across the insides of that organ.

“Ignore the pain, ignore the pain, ignore the pain…” I whispered as my hand shook.

The convex bulges were finally flush again, before resuming their concave indentions.

“Mother of the…” I grunted, loosening the pressure.

The edges were now not even semi-distinct, merely a cacophony of splashes and waves that were no longer returning to the construct proper. Water splashed on the desk, floor, and myself. The square was getting smaller by the second, the concave faces now convex. I screamed, my heart now experiencing the sensation of being on fire. Flames licked from the insides, burning hither and thither, never in any predictable pattern.

“Focus, focus, FOCUS! Arrrgghhhh!”

Both myself and the now pitifully small square fell. The water noisily landed on the desk before scattering away as my right side connected with the cold stone of the floor. I lay there, writhing and clutching my chest, desperately trying to assuage the pain. After minutes of intense agony, the pain began to recede.

Gasping, I rolled onto my back, my hands furiously rubbing my chest above my heart. It felt as though the fire had spread from my heart to my lungs, breathing was a mixture of sharp intakes followed by painful coughs. Slowly I managed to sit up, the pain still present. I felt like shit, but I needed to be stronger. Tomorrow was class, which meant I would be meeting many a potential foe. I desperately needed to hit the ground running. There was only one thing your enemies would respect, power.

In addition, there were still the two figures in black, I now about two weeks before needing to see them again. The blue ring on my finger, while innocuous looking, would squeeze down on my ring finger tightly a few times each day. Whether this was the curse rooting in deeper or a warning, I wasn’t sure. I wiped away a bit of drool from my mouth. Noticing a familiar coin taste, I looked at the back of my hand. The drool was tinged red. Well this sucked…

So not only the pain was increasing, but the actual damage to my physical body, grand. It was a while more before I managed to reclaim my seat. I focused all my energies on trying to speed up my healing. Though I don’t think I succeeded, it was better than just sitting idly. The top of my desk was soaked, the water pitcher turned over on its side. I righted it before staring at the surface of the desk, the very empty, wet surface.

I choked up a bit before steeling my nerves. Even with all the more pressing matters, this bare desk was the only one that could actually affect me. Every day I checked in with Mathias, the mage in charge of post. Two letters had been sent out, one when I fell into my coma, and one when I awoke. There had been no responses. There were only two things you could count on in this world, yourself, and family.

This Godsdamn silence signaled what I had known was inevitable. There was no one behind me, no one to take my side. Deep down I understood, they needed to distance themselves from me. The curse that caused people to hate me almost on sight was bad enough, my reputation after the siege…

I morosely made my way over to the bed, collapsing face first, too tired to remove my wet clothing. People always say you never forget the faces of those you killed, a bald-faced lie. Most of them I could only recollect by their salient features, the light red bearded man, the bald headed elder, the one with the scarred left cheek, that panther tattooed woman…

The only one I could recall with perfect clarity was the sole one I had been acquainted with. My eyes closed, the image of that smiling, emaciated face frozen in my mind’s eye. I stared at it, angry, happy, sad, and confused. Slowly the feelings and the face faded as I lost consciousness, replaced by a deep hue of blue, a patterned, organized, deep-set blue.

--------------------------------------------------

Mortals often outgrow those they call friends, then mourn their loss failing to see that for what was lost, something greater was obtained. When your friends only serve to obscure your ambitions, sometimes you need sever your ties with them. In more extreme cases, one may be required to sever them from their mortal coil.

Life itself is only temporal, of little value save the small window of opportunity it provides. This opportunity must not be wasted, be it on friends or accursed inclinations…

-Preceptum 5-∞-17