Hamy was jostling me around like a barman with his shaker.

While all the girls rode a cart, I was carried like a sack of beans on Hamy's shoulder. As expected from the bodyguard of a royal, she was a strong Chi user and my light body was barely a hindrance for her. She was running beside the carriage with ease.

I was carried in this humiliating fashion till the jade garden. Hamy threw me at the feet of lord Iroto without care, happy to discard her luggage. The grass didn't cushion much of the impact but my complaint was silenced by the gag.

The old drunkard sniggered: “Well, I guess things didn't go easy.” I tried to roar a complaint but it ended up as an inarticulate grunt.

The lord's eyes were already fogged by the wine he had drunk during the whole day. The last thing I wanted today was for an old alcoholic to lecture me.

He squatted beside me, which was quite the impressive move for a man his age, and his face got close enough that I could smell the alcohol in his breath: “Don't be like that, kid. We need to talk. You can all leave,” he added for the others. The princess looked with worry at him. “Don't worry, he can't harm me,” stated the old man with smiling eyes, mocking my impotence.

If I could I would puncture your green eyes right now. I despised how everyone was laughing at my weakness. Just because they had magic powers didn't mean they were allowed to look down at me.

The company left us alone and the old lord made his diagnose: “You look like shit, kid,” he teased me while brushing his beard. “And I've seen a lot of shitty looking people,” he added.

He even had the gall to take a sip of whatever alcohol was in his cup before freeing me. He cut my bindings but warned me: “Try to run away and I won't be as nice as my little princess.”

In the blink of an eye his aura changed, there was a cold threat emanating from his gaze that made my spine tingle with fear. His green eyes turned from the usual mossy green into a menacing jungle in an instant.

He wasn't joking any longer and his tone made it clear that he had followed through his threats in the past. I nodded meekly, the man was both a powerful magician and a martial master. I wasn't dumb, I knew I couldn't outrun him. Where would I even go? In the wilderness to end up eaten by some monster? Why not? That would maybe amuse [them]?

“Come, let's have a drink,” invited the old man as his murderous aura recessed. It was very like him to drink in the afternoon. To drink at any time, in fact.

We sat under the gazebo near the pond and he poured himself a cup before pouring one for me too. I sniffed the thing, it was some kind of fruit brandy, stronger than wine.

He laughed at my motion, “Don't worry, it isn't poison,” before adding: “at least just a poison one would gladly take in. But yes, it can still kill in the long run,” he somehow acknowledged with a reflective face. For an instant, he got lost in his own demons.

I downed the cup in one go. This body may be weak and small but it wasn't my first binge drinking contest. I've been a college student before. It was milder than I thought, maybe 20-25° but still made me cough, this childish body couldn't even handle this little.

This made the old lord laugh heartily, “No need to be so eager. It is a poison that takes years to

take effect,” he half-jokingly, half-sadly added before emptying his cup.

I was enjoying the burn down my throat and the flush of blood to my cheeks. A slight dizziness was already taking hold of me and washing away my sorrows with welcomed warmth.

I had quite the happy drunkenness and it's been a while since I could drink good alcohol. I had a taste during a few events. In this world, adults were a bit more lax with kids and letting them drink some barok beer on festivities wasn't unusual. But this brandy was stronger and better than anything I had till now. It reminded me a bit of the commodities from my past life.

“So,” finally interrupted the bearded elder, “was becoming a magician that important to you?”

I didn't really know how to answer. What should I tell him? That I was an old soul, brought from another world by some unknown god? That I believed myself to be some god-chosen one, meant to fulfil some prophecy or defeat the monster god?

Now that I was left as powerless as a newborn it was just laughable. Not even speaking of debasing the pantheon. This would be foolish, the only good thing I had going for me right now was the blessing.

So I left an uneasy silence settle down between us. The only sound was Iroto sipping his cup and humming in appreciation as he was enjoying his drink while contemplating the fire-birds spewing flames in the sunset. Spring was bringing its trail of love parades. A very bold flying frog landed near us, her eyes were asking for a taste of my cup. I wasn't about to share such good alcohol, shoo, go ask the old man, he drinks more than his share every day.

Seeing that I wasn't answering, he probed again. “You should know that commoners are almost never screened. This isn't because us blades are trying to hoard all the power to ourselves. It is because it wouldn't be worth the cost. Chi potency at a high enough level for fighting is already rare. Magic proficiency is even rarer,” he patiently explained. “This just makes it even more surprising that two of your friends had natural dispositions for it. The odds are off the charts here and I don't know how or why it happened. “ He was looking at me suspiciously. “I believe it might have something to do with your own strange condition. A priestess of Tupu confirmed that you had quite the influence on these kids since early.”

I wasn't surprised anymore at how much they knew about my life. Either the temple or his men must have interrogated most people who knew me.

The old man threw a stream of air at the frog to make her fly away as she was getting close to his cup, he wasn't going to share his beverage. He poured me another cup before stating: “Anyway, you shouldn't blame your friends for Fortan's graces and instead be happy. You have strong and loyal friends,” he lectured me.

I knew my recent behaviour wasn't my usual self. It was somehow more a fit thrown by a child than what I've accustomed them to. It was more like my age in this world but less like the person they learned to know and trust.

I imagine Gelcaria must have told him about our last quarrel. I wasn't proud of how I reacted. Sure I was angry and disappointed, I still am, but I shouldn't have rebuked her like that.

Could this have something to do with a child's physiology? Hormones and neural activity making me more prone to such outbursts? Or was it just the spite talking and I was looking for any excuses for my behaviour? Did I think too highly by imagining myself as some main protagonist of an epic story? When in the end I was just a “normal” kid.

I took another taste at the wine, it reminded me of something halfway between pear and plum. I took a deep breath to let the alcohol spread in my limbs before answering: “I don't blame them. I'm just jealous. And disappointed,” I dejectedly confessed. The alcohol was helping me to open up a bit more, “I've always believed I was meant for more than just a commoner's life. Maybe I was delusional. I thought I would be a magician or at least a fighter. A blade, even.” I sneered at my own megalomania. “Instead, I'm just a dead weight carried around.” I was brooding.

The old man chuckled and took another sip of wine. In the setting sun, his eyes were shining like emeralds, the alcohol was giving them a feverish glistening. “Then nine out of ara (10)sapients are dead weight according to you. Yet all are needed in this war.” He was throwing aphorisms at me, that wouldn't be enough to convince me. “Why did you want so much to have powers?” he was sounding a bit more serious like he was getting at the core of the problem.

I thought for a while about my answer. What did I want power for? Fame? Self satisfaction? Fulfilment of a prophecy? I sipped another gulp of too and enjoyed the light breeze of the evening before answering: “I am tired of being scared.” This was the most honest response I found, one that I didn't see coming myself. “I was so powerless during the monster tide or when I got mugged. I only got by through sheer luck. This isn't reliable. Only the fools put their trust in Fortan. I wanted the strength to take care of myself.” I sounded both wise beyond my years and also a bit surprised by my own wisdom.

The old man nodded in appreciation, “A decent aspiration,” he approved. “Although a bit vexatious for me. It is my job as shield to take care of that worry for you. Are you trying to imply I'm doing a bad job?” He half-jokingly analysed.

“Well, I did see someone die in front of me during the monster tide. That wasn't a good job for her,” I honestly replied. Yoli's torment was coming back too often in my nightmares for me to easily brush it away.

The old man whimpered like a wounded beast. “True, that hurt. Do you at least believe me when I say I feel the failure every time someone under my protection dies?” His green eyes were intently staring at me. Somehow my opinion mattered right now.

“I believe you.” I relieved him. “But you are just one man and you can't always be around. I can't rely on you for all my life and expect you to be there at all times,” I added.

He took it with philosophy “True. My days are counted. Soon enough, Otik will lead me back to my loved ones,” he emptied his cup in a silent toast with his ghosts, “but I hope to have groomed good successors. The second prince will do a fine job, I believe,” he concluded with a soothed look in his verdant eyes.

I didn't dare shrug at that. I wasn't in the mood to praise his grandson. I still had mixed feeling about this second prince. My first impression was that of a haughty pampered siscon. But I must admit he proved to be a decent student and didn't flaunt his rank in front of me later on. I don't know how able he is on the battlefield but he could make an okay-ish lord.

Sensing that my troubles were still unsolved he probed again. “Do you know what magic is?” He asked with a mischievous smile.

I shrugged, I wasn't in the mood to play riddles. If he was trying to rub salt on my wound, I wouldn't let him. The alcohol was dulling my sadness but I still had remnants of pride, I'd rather take a beating than another humiliation. “The way of using Chi to cast spells?” I answered.

He nodded meekly, tilting his head and pondering on my answer. “Yes, in the end, that's what it looks like most of the time, but it's a bit more than just that. Magic is the way to use Chi to influence the Chi around you. An art to use your willpower to shape the world around you,” he was explaining with passion. He opened his left hand and a small tornado started to form atop his palm, “Magic is the ability one has to use his mind to shape the Chi, the very fabric of the world, into whatever you want it to be. The power to change the world.” The tornado was now having some small lightning bolts in it as static electricity was charging up. He marvelled at his creation for a while before concluding: “Magic is the closest thing to your soul merging with the Chi of the world. I believe it is a small spark of divinity the gods granted us.”

He was showing me a faithful side that I didn't suspect in him. But his views didn't make much sense, it didn't explain how the gods were once mortals who wielded magic themselves.

Breaking from his trance, his eyes left the small hurricane to meet mine: “What do you think the scope of my power is?” He inquired with curiosity as the small thunderstorm was dancing in his palm.

I shrugged once more, this was becoming my signature move. I had no real idea of his power. I knew it was great because both the general and the Marshall were speaking at him as an equal. Not because of his birth rank or status but because there was some acknowledgment of his abilities.

But I've never seen him use much magic before. Nor did I ever see the princess or any blade train his magic in front of us. It looked like magic was a very sensitive matter, shrouded in secrecy. “I don't know. I'd say you are quite powerful,” I vaguely replied.

He reflected pensively at my statement before rumbling: “Mmmh quite powerful. Yes. Maybe. Yet I wasn't powerful enough when I needed to,” he sadly confessed. He emptied the cup in his right hand, not letting go of the tornado in his other hand. “I'm a mage of the ara(10)th rank and a martial user of the ninth or arath depending on the day,” he confessed. “Quite powerful, yes?” He was smiling with childish pride, it was hard to tell how serious he was right now.

I could only nod at him. I knew 10th level of martial Chi was really powerful but I had no idea of how mages' scales worked. I just knew mages were usually considered more powerful than warriors because of the bigger scope of their powers.

The old lord went on: “Now, what do you think my strongest spell can do?” he asked with beaming eyes as if he was playing a trick on me.

“I don't know, raze the Shieldom?” I replied at the get-go.

He heartily laughed, almost losing control of the tornado, the small tempest got dangerously close to me and made me back away from him a bit. “Certainly not.” When his laughter finally eased, he took another sip of wine directly from the bottle since his other hand was busy with the tornado. “At best I can cast a spell on the whole palace. Maybe part of the city if the conditions are in my favour,” he explained with no traces of his former pride. “Maybe the whole city if I'm ready to put my life on the line,” he was dead serious there. “Powerful. Yet not powerful at the same time,” he concluded.

“Still more than me.” I bitterly said. At least he was able to protect himself and those he cared about. No monster would tear him apart.

I could catch a glimpse of victory in his eyes, it was the look of a patient hunter rewarded for his night of wait in ambush. “Yet think a bit more about it. I can affect the palace, change the world, mostly destroy it, on such a tiny space. What did you do?” He was tapping at my shoulder with the hand carrying the tornado in a worrying fashion, if he lost control of it I could lose my arm here. Small lightning bolts were harmlessly reaching for me, like one of those tesla balls.

I was a bit drunk but not to the point of losing all notions of safety, drinking and using magic wasn't a safe mix.

He kept lecturing me: “You already changed the world on a far larger scope. Your writing, your numbers, they are already affecting the whole city. You've changed the fate of your friends and people around you but also of people you don't even know. Soon, it will spread in the Shieldom then out of our borders and affect the world in a profound way,” he exclaimed with elation.

He took a breather to look me in the eyes, the intensity of his gaze was making me uneasy: “I can see what you are aiming for. When I saw how quickly you taught the princess, I understood what Fortmo and his god saw in you. If magic is about changing the world, you are already doing it on a far larger scope than I could ever do.”

I wasn't naïve enough to gulp at the sugar-coated words he was throwing at me like a famished ant, but there was some truth in that. He was going full Arthur C. Clarke on me: “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic” was it?

Well, what I brought till now is far from “sufficiently advanced” but I get his point. I have my own kind of magic.

The fog in my brain was slowly dispersing as my resolve was coming back. The gods wished to fuck with me? Then let me fuck them back. I don't need their magic, I'll throw science at them. Enough to overturn the world, enough to make them obsolete. My power was to empower the mass, the Chi-less and the magic-less. Who needs a blade when you can have a rocket launcher?

If i can't be a wizard, so be it. I'll become a technomage.

The old man must have sensed my resolve, he let the tornado drift away in the sky and disperse in the wind and poured me another cup. We silently shared a toast and emptied another one. I was starting to get hammered here, the garden was spinning around me.

“I think you had enough,” said the elder as I was tottering. “I forgot how feeble you are,” he added with a wink, he knew he was poking at a fresh wound here. “You can sleep here for tonight, no one will come to disturb you in my garden. I'll take my leave now,” he claimed at the air, probably meant for Shizu lying in wait somewhere and he left me like that.

I sprawled on the grass to be in contact with as much ground as possible to counteract the spinning motion the alcohol was forcing on my surroundings. I doubt I could have gone far anyway so sleeping here was fine. Last thing I wanted was to throw up in the palace in front of people.

While I was trying to focus on Amidea's blue moon far up in the sky, to have a distant referential to ease the dizziness, two purple stars appeared to my right.

Gel was looking worriedly at me. “Are you better now?” She candidly asked. Her pure worry was tooth-achingly sweet.

I nodded, trying to not get nauseous in the motion. Her face was spinning in front of me too, her features were hard to make out, blurred, only her amethysts eyes were sticking out of the dizzy haze of alcohol.

It took me a while to gather enough of my still functional neurons to respond. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” I didn't make it clear what I was talking about but she understood and I could see the relief in her eyes, followed up by more worry.

She pointed at the cup beside me: “Did it help?” She asked with worry.

Well, I guess it did. “A bit, yes,” I answered. In vino veritas, it maybe helped me to see the truth, face my real issues.

I didn't expect her reaction, she started sobbing out, tears flushing her lilac eyes. I didn't see her cry like that since years ago, the first night she came to find sanctuary at my home.

“Please do not become like my father.” She begged while she was hugging my face and drenching me in warm tears.

It only now hit me. I was so conceited in my own petty sorrow that I lost sight of her ordeal. I was just so bitter that I didn't get some powers I didn't need, that I forgot I had people around me. Real people, with their own worries, fears and hopes.

Gel was genuinely worried about me, she cared for me, and right now, I, her surrogate fatherly figure, was treading the same path that her drunkard father did. Depression followed by drowning in drinking.

The girl must be mortified inside.

I tried to pat her head but my movements were sluggish and clumsy due to the intoxication of the wine. Even my voice sounded coarse and pasty now that I was thinking about it: “I won't. Please don't cry.” I tried to comfort her.

After a few more sobs she finally got away. Her eyes were tearing through the night as she required my attention “Promise!” she ordered, “Swear it on the gods.”

She should know better, a drunkard's promises are only worth their weight in Toja's shit, but I still compelled with her demand. Very slowly, trying to sound as sober and dignified as I could. “I promise, on Shinpilo's blessing, that never will I become a drunkard. I swear to you.”

She shook her head “No, not on Shinpilo. He isn't trustworthy.” Again that shit with the god of plotters. I'm a knowledge blessed one, can't people give me a bit more credit?

“Fine. Then I swear on Akolaï. If I ever deceive you or disappoint you, may he take away my vigour forever.” This somehow made her laugh. She remembered the Typhoon's eagerness and this seemed like a more valid stake.

Maybe it was just the glow of the tears in her now smiling eyes, but for a second the lavender eyes shone brighter than ever.