Chapter 46 — Permanently

  I opened the front door and allowed a few customers who were waiting outside in. I’d man the store until either Lana or Kate got back.

  “Oh, look at this, it says this one will bring you prosperity,” A younger woman with dyed green hair said to her friend.

  “It’s beautiful. You should get it.” The other replied.

  “I do need something to cheer me up, after that story in the news.”

  “What story was that?” I asked from the counter, circling to see what they were looking at. They had found a little bowl of citrine points, small crystals that had a slightly yellow gold hue.

  “The murders. You haven’t heard?” the girl with green hair asked.

  The other wore a short pixie cut of brown hair and she clearly wanted to talk about anything but the murders. Her fake, extra-long eyelashes swished aggressively as she looked away from me and her friend. “We haven’t heard much, only that there were some murders.” She mumbled.

  “The news is talking about it on all the channels,” The green haired one said, clearly excited to fill me in. The other left to peruse the store and focus on something else. “They are saying it was the Boise Forest murderer.”

  “Wasn’t it an animal attacking people?” I said, feigning ignorance.

  “That’s what they thought, until today.”

  I gulped, “What changed?”

  “Twelve campers were killed. They were dispersed camping somewhere in the forest. A hiker stumbled upon them this morning and uploaded a few pictures before the police arrived, so all the news outlets have the photos.”

  “You wouldn’t catch me going into the woods for anything,” The brown-haired one said, from a dozen feet away, having found a crystal she clutched to in one of her palms. “Not for a million dollars.”

  I pressed for more, “But they know it’s not an animal?”

  The girls looked at each other, then me. “You just need to see it,” the girl with green hair said. “Look.” She held up her phone after finding an image she wanted to show me.

  Right then and there, I recommitted to utterly destroying this creature. It had come to my town and hurt my people while hunting me. Twelve bodies were hanging from the low branches on an ancient tree. Some from the legs, others from arms, two from their necks. The picture was blurry and taken at a distance. Even so, it was clear each of the people’s bodies were mangled and broken.

  “No…” I said, clenching my fists. I could feel my power responding to my distress, and I closed my eyes, taking a long deep breath. “That’s terrible.”

  “It is. No animal could have done that. The police have locked down the park and anyone inside is to leave immediately after questioning.”

  “I heard the FBI is even in town after the murder at that Inn, on the way to Redfish.” The more reserved one added.

  “Yeah,” Green hair said, “I bet it was crazy there—a whole inn. They haven’t even released any of the details about that.”

  I shook my head, “Some things are too evil to let live.”

  “I agree,” The green haired girl said. “They need to catch this person fast.”

  “Thank you for filling me in. I hadn’t heard.”

  “Probably wish you still hadn’t,” the girl with the eyelashes added, a note of disgust in her words..

  “Tell you what, you both can take one of those for free.” I said, gesturing to the citrine points. “For helping me get all caught up on the news.”

  They beamed up at me eagerly each clutching close their chosen stones. They thanked me and left, leaving me alone in the shop.

  “Gaa!” I cursed at the ceiling in the empty store. I wanted to break something, call down fire and burn the sick creature alive while I watched its skin boil and blister. This had all happened because of me. This put the full death count at roughly seventeen if all the missing individuals were related and went unfound. I ground my teeth. That had to be some sort of Idaho state record on murders, deaths, and missing persons for a year. Generally, Idaho was a safe place, a state where not much happened.

  Before I could get too heated, I heard a knock at the back door and opened it. Lana stood below me on the stairs. She’d changed into her work uniform and clearly spent a little more time getting ready. Her being in her work attire made it clear. She’d been called in and it didn’t take much detective work to know why.

  “It’s bad,” she said.

  “I heard.”

  “Is it our fault?”

  “—What? No.”

  “We hurt it.”

  “I dumped iron on it, and its hunting for me. We didn’t choose for it to come here, we didn’t choose for it to escape last night, we didn’t choose for it to hurt those people—and were probably the best people to ensure it doesn’t hurt anyone else ever again.”

  “If you weren’t trying to protect me, maybe you could have killed it?”

  I didn’t hesitate for a moment. “No. I was protecting myself as much as you when it attacked.” Then I thought about what Fren said, “I couldn’t have beat it last night, its strong. It’s going to take preparation to take down. If it was me alone last night it might have killed me outright before I even sensed it. Then it could have feasted in the woods for years and no one would have known. The noise from your gun and your attack probably distracted it or rushed it.” I said, encircling her in a hug.

  “We have to do something.” My gut fell as she sniffled, and I knew she was crying.

  “We do,” I said. “Do you have iron with you?”

  “I have a cast iron pot in my car, it was the only thing I found that might work.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “It will, but that’s not the best weapon. Wait one second.” I said, running to my pack. I grabbed what was left of the bag of iron filings, basically a few pinches of dust stuck in the Ziplock, and the dagger made of old cold iron. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I gave them to Lana. “Be safe.”

  “You too—and Cal.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Find a way to kill this thing. Permanently.”

  I nodded, more than eager to do so. We kissed, it was brief, short, but comforting in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. Neither of us was alone.

  Lana left, just as Kate pulled up, ready for work again.

  I was so mad, I decided to go to Rex’s and lift some weights. It was the only way I could think of to calm down and use some of my pent-up energy. Still, two lights blew out and I saw one guy slapping his Bluetooth headphones nearby which had stopped working.

  It made me more frustrated.

  My very existence was harming those around me. I was bringing threats to my wonderful town. I was a target, and anyone around me could be hurt. I thought of Lana getting attacked by the fae pixies. I thought of her being tossed like nothing through the fire last night. I thought of the people murdered to heal the damage I’d caused that monster.

  I worked harder than I ever had, the pain in my body, my ribs, not halting me, but driving my focus. Rex could see the mood I was in and didn’t bother me more than to nod. He knew I’d been very concerned about the past deaths and could likely feel the rage boiling off me.

  I felt how close I was to Body Tier level 3. The injuries, adrenaline, and physicality of the last few days acting like a springboard.

  I returned home, and instead of going up to shower I went downstairs to the basement. I sat in my painfully wrought circles and runes to meditate. I focused on cycling my power, pulling in magical energies from the surrounding world, purifying them in my core, then expelling them out into the circle in a controlled demonstration of my will. It was exhausting, detailed work, but pure energy began to rise in the confined circle which made my magical senses flare to all-time highs. In a mana dense state like this, I could work on strengthening and enlarging my core to make me more powerful. It took hours and hours to raise it a single point towards tier 3, but that time would pass anyway, and I’d wasted enough. The circle amplified how quickly I could pull in power and what I could retain, giving me greater control, and thus, more practice for the time I spent. It added magical pressure to help fortify my core.

  That resiliency and strength were important. It would make magical miss castings or spell crafting less dangerous. It could protect me from using too much power at once as I developed and practiced stronger spells. I’d nearly died and had injured my core once with a spell Clair forbade me from using ever again. It had also destroyed my staff, a painstakingly time intensive crafting that had taken eight months of hard work to forge and I hadn’t put the effort in to do it since that day.

  I had a knack for artificery and magical creation, or so Clair had said. Most wizards only learned the basics and crafted a wand or staff for general use. Eight months had been faster than Clair had ever made one. I’d been proud at the time but now it infuriated me. I’d destroyed it a few months before taking my test and becoming a fully-fledged wizard. I’d wasted years not making another. Yes, my spell control had improved, and I could do some very impressive work without a focus. But having one would have helped me save energy, would help me draw more to myself in battle. Would help me cast a few spells more quickly which could mean the difference between life and death in a fight.

  I sighed, berating myself wouldn’t do any good. The time was past, and now I would work to be the wizard I should have been.

  I returned my focus to cultivating. My core swelling within me, the ambient power around me that pulled in against the gradient by my core causing it to stretch and work like a muscle. I needed to cultivate after having taken in new energy from foreign cores to strengthen myself.

  Those powers folded into mine, but it took time to ensure they were truly fused to me and under my control. Otherwise, they could try to peel away from my core and return to their previous use or type. I had to apply the ‘pressure’ of cultivation to ensure they didn’t fray at the edges or escape. It was akin to Paper Mache; I slathered a new core’s energy atop mine and compressed and held it into place until it became part of the whole. Stronger and more resilient. Not cultivating after drawing in great swaths of external power from cores could cause permanent changes to my baseline power, core strength, and the nature of my spells and crafting. Usually, those changes weren’t for the better and more than a few past practitioners in the ‘sanctuary’ had been placed there from neglecting their cores or having never been taught how to properly cultivate. Clair was apparently very good at it, so I considered myself lucky to have had her train me.

  Cultivating was mentally exhausting which allowed me to focus on something other than my own self-recriminations or the image from that girl’s phone. Once finished, my mind, as well as my body, were exhausted.

  As a last effort, I constructed my self-assessment spell and cast it, the power flowing more readily and easily in my now densely cultivated magical energy.

  Spell based identification activated:

  Mana Core: Identified: Human Mage

  Quality: 1st tier

  Power value: Strong

  Inherent power affinity: All

  Power: Rank Three 66/100

  Fortitude: Rank Two 84/100

  Body: Rank Two 97/100

  I grinned at the results. I’d actually raised them all one from the day before and my body attribute two points. That was quite impressive, but I still had ground to cover until the ranks would advance which was when most of the actual ‘gains’ occurred. Body was the closest and I itched to achieve it.

  I stood, wiping sweat from my brow. I broke the outer ring’s control by pushing my foot across the iron circle with the intention of breaking it. The gathered magic dispelled around the room like water released from a vat. I felt and heard Fren’s vibrational hum increase in pitch and tempo as a significant portion of the energy made its way towards him. I grinned, hopefully it would help him heal, he couldn’t draw power towards himself the way I could. Perhaps that was something we could work on together I thought, as I considered my friend.

  I took out a sheet of paper now that my mind was clear and wrote a letter. I told Clair about what was going on, everything I knew about the deaths and the attack. I let her know I was being hunted and that there were also seekers in the town and that I wanted to know anything she could tell me about their organization that might help. The real reason I wrote the letter was that if I failed Clair might come and end the creature if the killings continued. Wizards generally didn’t watch TV or scroll the news—for obvious reasons. Because of that, the impression I got from the few others I’d met was that they were aloof and only concerned with their own affairs. They didn’t see the day-to-day things going on around them. Tribunal politics, powerplays among the supernatural factions, Tribunal governing decisions, and growing their own power and pursuing their own pursuits were their only concerns.

  I’d only spent a few days around others while undergoing testing. It had been enough to easily make the choice to set off on my own. I knew every wizard couldn’t be that bad. The Tribunal did have an arm called the Strikers who were wizards doing basically what I did, with the full authority and support of the Tribunal. They hunted monsters and creatures who overtly preyed on humankind.

  But they didn’t stop everything and were a small force.

  Their focus was keeping things under the table and out of the news. The beckoned to the Tribunal and were not much more than foot soldiers. Their main purpose was to make sure wielders of magic didn’t make spectacles of themselves. Whether they be those untrained, who had strong enough gifts and talents to cause issues, or those who were trained… improperly. The Tribunal disposed of the second type. They were basically the swat team of the magical world and if they showed up you were generally already judged, found guilty, and the executioners had arrived.

  I’d been pressed to join them after becoming a full wizard. Clair had warned me that I might get the opportunity, but that the choice would be mine to make. She’d also said I had a stubborn streak they would have had to beat out of me and that I’d have to learn to follow orders. She knew me all too well, and it was enough to spur their advances.

  When the opportunity came, I declined, wanting control over my life for the first time in living memory. I’d never regretted that choice and still didn’t. I wasn’t good at following the beat of someone else’s drum. Maybe I was operationally defiant, but if I had gone with them, I may not have ever met Fren. I surely wouldn’t have saved anyone in Boise. I wouldn’t have a business and my own home.

  Clair would see to the creature should I fail. She had a vindictive streak and would see the work done. Even on the off chance she didn’t do anything, it was worth the time and the cost of a stamp. I sealed it and placed it with the store’s outgoing mail then I left to prepare for battle.

  https://www.amazon.com/author/brockwalker