A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) (43 page)

“I already got mine.” Culmus replied.

 “Yeah, I guess I did too.”

On their way back to the Red Town of Sword and Staff, Eric
asked Dengel what he thought of his new student's first ever rescue mission.

Anti-climatic.

Were you expecting a giant dungeon monster?

Yes. As a matter of fact, I was.

Even without a giant dungeon monster, Eric was exhausted. He
dropped his loot, shed his slimy clothes, and crashed into bed.

Chapter 16
A True Mercenary

BANG! BANG! BANG! It sounded like someone was trying to
break his door down. Regretfully, Eric pushed away his blanket and rubbed sleep
from his eyes. He nearly tripped on his way to the dresser. BANG! BANG! BANG!
He ignored them until he was wearing clean clothes.

“What's up?”

Tiza knocked on his head. “Not you! Where
were
you
yesterday!?”

“I would like to know as well.” Nolien
almost
sounded
angry. “We were hired as farmhands yesterday and monsters attacked the hen
union.”

So they
do have unions . . .
“Did one of them
poop on you?”

“No, that was a cow.”

“And you didn't see it! BECAUSE YOU WEREN'T THERE!”

Basilard bonked her. “Tiza, don't deafen your teammates.
Well, Eric, where were you?”

Eric yawned. “I was in the sewer . . . Rescuing Princess
Kasile.”

“Dimwit, if you're gonna lie, make it convincing.”

“Nah, I'm telling the truth. Ask Culmus. Or Kasile. Or . . .yaaahh
. . .Plas Bladi.”

Basilard scowled. “So . . . my brother was in town. Did he
tell you anything?”

Eric shuddered under the power of his gaze. It hovered just
beneath those blood red eyes; a prodding knife. He shook his head.

“Good.” Just like that, the power was gone and Basilard was
smiling. “I'll ask Culmus about it later. In the meantime, we have a job to do.”

You mean the novices have a job to do.
All you do
is read your dirty book.

You resent your mentor?

No, he's a great teacher . . . It's just . . .it
irritates me.

What did I tell you earlier? Mercenary. For the record, I
am a better teacher.

The mission was clipping an orc's toenails. Some orcs were
so heavily muscled they couldn't reach their feet and so their toenails grew
unchecked. Some asked friends and others went to saloons for pedicures, but a
small number were too ashamed for either, so they hired mercenaries. It was a
sought after job because they gave gratuitous tips.

It wasn't, by any means, easy money. First of all, orcs have
big toes and big toenails. A human could spend half an hour sawing away on just
one. Second, orc toenails are as tough as human bone; nothing less than a broad
sword would cut them. Finally, the factor that made this mission a D-class
instead of a harmless E class: orcs are often ticklish.

This particular orc lived in the Yellow Town of Trade and
Creativity. Few people lived here and those that did slept one floor above or
below their workplace, whatever it was. To the left was an electronic retail
store and to the right was a grocery store. At the corner was a convenience
store boasting a sale on frozen pizza. Eric felt dead on his feet so he stopped
at a cafe for coffee and scones.

Before he finished either, Basilard stopped at the base of
an apartment. Their client was on the top floor and they were taking the stairs.
Basilard told them it would be great exercise, which inspired Tiza to take them
three at a time. He then asked Nolien to make sure she didn't hurt herself.
Eric shrugged and followed him.

Tiza ran up the final flight backwards. Nolien's huffs and
puffs were too amusing to miss. “Maybe I should call you 'Tent' instead of
'Tenderfoot'!”

Nolien stopped to catch his breath. “You could . . . just
use . . .my name . . .”

“What fun would that be?”

She jumped over the final stair and proclaimed herself the
fastest member of Team Four. Then she saw Basilard leaning against the wall
with his book out. Without looking up, he told her that Chameleon Flash, a
technique for high-speed movement, was another advantage of being a senior.
Tiza burned red and proclaimed herself the fastest
novice
of Team Four.

Since his team was otherwise occupied—Nolien panting,
Basilard reading, and Tiza begging for super speed lessons—Eric knocked.

“Eric!” Annala blushed crimson and hid behind the door. “What
are you doing here!? . . . This is so embarrassing . . .!”

“Uh . . . Um . . .er . . .”

His elfin friend wore a short blue dress with a ruffled hem,
and beneath were thigh high stockings and black buckle shoes. On her arms were
shoulder-length gloves and on her neck was a ruffled black collar. All of them
were decorated with pink lace designs. In short, it was a stylized maid outfit.

“Eric has a crush! Eric has a crush!” Tiza said in a
singsong voice.

The mercenary and maid blushed deeper.

“Tiza, don't tease them,” Basilard said. Tiza stopped
singing and started humming. Basilard paused, then looked at Eric. “Is she?”

“NO!” Eric shouted. His face was becoming uncomfortably hot.

“Then why are you blushing?” Nolien asked. He was so smug!
Eric wanted to punch him.

Annala stared at the floor and tugged one ear. “I just
finished cleaning the kitchen . . .”

“I just ran up all those stairs . . . .”

Basilard stepped forward. “In any case, we have a job to do.”

“Oh . . .so you're the ones who answered his bill . . .”
Annala stepped out from behind the door, clasped her hands, and tried to smile.
“Welcome to the house of Tahart Ligo. Please come in.” She pulled the door
open. Eric tugged at the collar of his tunic.

The living room was spacious and well furnished: premium
leather couches with gold inlays, a flat-screen CV on a silver stand, statues
of lean and muscular orcs in the corners. A crystal chandelier hung from the
ceiling
and handmade carpets lined the floor.

 
This . . .orc . . . lives fairly well. That is to be
expected if he can hire mercenaries to clip his toenails.
Dengel's
bitterness was lost on Eric. His attention was distracted elsewhere.

“So . . ..” He finally managed to say to the floor. “This a
job?”

“Yeah . . .” Annala found the floor equally fascinating. “For
the summer.”

“Ms. Enaz,” a low voice asked from the next room. “Have the
mercenaries arrived?”

“Oh! Yes, master, they have.”
She has to call him
'master'!?
“This way to Mr. Ligo's office.” She pulled the door open and
stepped aside.

Tahart was indeed . . . heavily muscled. He was twice Eric's
size in every direction; his clothes were big enough to be small tents. He
reclined in a lounge chair and typed on a crystal board attached to a metal arm
sprouting from his desk. Other crystals lay nearby; a PDA, a camera, laptop,
and others.

“Master Tahart . . .” Eric loved the sound of her voice, but
those words were painful to hear. “These four have arrived to solve your
problem.”

Tahart pushed his keyboard away and swiveled to face them. “Ah
yes, thank you. I'll speak with them now. You're dismissed.” Annala curtsied
and left. “First, let me thank you for coming.”

Basilard inclined his head. “And let us thank you, Mr. Ligo,
for hiring us.”

The orc shifted in his seat. “Are you familiar with . . . my
request?”

“I explained the procedure on the way.”

“Good, good, and have they signed the waivers?”

“All but one.”

“Because that one slept in!” Tiza said pointedly.

“Not to worry.” Tahart reached into one of the drawers of
his desk and brought out a slip of paper and a pen. “Not to worry.” He handed
both to Eric.

“
I, the undersigned, understand that Tahart Ligo is not
responsible for any injuries, physical damage, or harm of any nature as a
result of my business relationship with the above.”

Such a general statement!
Dengel said in disgust.
Anything one does could be covered by it.

Yeah, and he has extras on hand.
“Is this necessary?”

“I don't want to get sued because you tickled me and I
kicked you on accident.”

“I meant the generality; this could cover anything and everything.”

“It's convenient to have one form, and I save paper, which
saves me money.”

“Just sign it, Dimwit! I want to get this over with.”

As Eric signed, he wondered if Annala already did.
Anything
could happen to her and he wouldn't have to give a shit!
He returned the
signed slip to Tahart, who pointed to a chest of drawers. Inside were saws the
size of a human forearm. The novices grabbed one each.

For being unable to reach his toes, they were well cared
for; not at all like stereotypical orcs in the literature of his homeworld.
Then again, there weren't too many stock trader orcs in the literature of his
homeworld.
Is polishing his nails Annala's job!?
The associated image
made his fists clench.

 Tahart's big toe was as long as a human head and the smallest
their closed fist. Ten toes for three novices meant three toes per novice with
one left. When they arrived at that one, Tiza called it. Which made Nolien
insist on doing it himself, which made Tiza go on another “I'm not a lady” rant,
which convinced Eric to clip it himself. It was the only way the argument would
end.

You know
. . .
I thought my life would change
after rescuing Kasile. That's a big accomplishment, you know? Yet here I am,
just where I left off . . . menial work.

You have read too many elfin tales. Real life never works
out that way. Success involves hard work. I worked hard when I was your age and
I became the Founder of Magecraft.

So you always say.

Dengel was one of the greatest mages in Tariatlan history
and he never let Eric forget it. In the
MMR
, Dengel would monologue
about the research he did to perfect the given spell. On the street, he pointed
out random objects and lectured on how his research contributed to its
development. Even when Eric relieved himself, Dengel bragged about his
influence on indoor plumbing. Eric tuned out the lecture on automated saws by
reflecting on his past adventures.
I've had more near-death experiences than
anyone in my neighborhood . . . I still don't have enough money for armor . . .

Tahart laughed. “You want to use my toe nails as
armor
?
. . .You're the Otherworlder I've been hearing about, aren't you?”

Eric nodded.
So I'm still news . . .

Yes. People will be gossiping about you for some time . .
.

“What a coincidence that you happened to be one of the
mercenaries I hired. You know, I've been curious about your species ever since
I was little. They say Threan humans are even more fragile than their Tariatlan
counterparts.” Tahart chuckled, as if human fragility was a punchline in orc
society. “I wrote a paper in college theorizing what your species could be like
judging by your world's low mana level.” Tahart reached for the keyboard. “It
should be here somewhere.”

 Eric glowered. He was about to tell the orc
exactly
where he could shove that paper when Nolien clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Tip.”

If Eric made Tahart angry, all he would accomplish was a
smaller tip and losing this job to another team the next time Tahart needed a
trim. He waited in silence.

“Ahh, here it is! You don't mind if I ask a few questions,
do you?” Eric knew a request when it was asked and a statement when it was
spoken. “Well then, is it true that your bones and skin are so delicate that
they break with the slightest touch?”

“There are humans like that . . . sir . . .but they are a
minority.” Then, because he felt a surge of patriotism he added, “We have many
full-contact sports.”

“Like what?”

“Rugby. I've heard it called 'recreational pain.'”

“And your blood; we believe it doesn't clot effectively.”

“There are humans like that, but again, they are a minority.”

On and on it went until he asked absurd questions such as
whether they were still using stone tools or if they had discovered fire yet.
It made Eric's blood boil and Dengel didn't like it either.

Who does this orc think he is?! As if orcs could ever be
more advanced than humans, regardless of the world! In my day, those savages .
. .
He trailed off and sulked in the back of Eric's mind.

“That will be all; I don't need to ask this last one,”
Tahart said. Eric really shouldn't have asked. He should have just let it go .
. . but . . .curiosity was his best trait.

“Well there were these experiments done in the past about
mana in relation to intelligence. Unethical . . .
terribly
unethical,
but still groundbreaking. The researchers locked sapients in a biosphere devoid
of mana and noticed a gradual decrease in skill and an increase in brutish
behaviors. This was ultimately revealed as a mind-altering case of Mana
Withdrawal but the question remained: In a world that received little mana
since its start, would the sapients be any different from monsters?”

You're the monster!
He blacked out.

“Thank you for your help, Otherworlder.” Tahart said.

What happened just now
? It was just like when he was
with Culmus in the Dragon's Lair; seconds gone from his memory.

It was the heat. You dozed off for a second because of it
.

Tahart rang a bell and Annala appeared in the doorway. “You
called, Master Tahart?” She curtsied again.
At his beck and call with a
bell?!
The memory lapse faded from his memory as more hatred piled in his
heart.