Statement: Magic, as a concept, is an utterly foreign device and wholly unlike ‘Wiccan’ books state. In modern times, prior to ‘The Event’ magic was the realm of charlatans, dreamers, the delusional, and maybe, somewhere—a few souls who were related to our kidnappers. But teaching a modern person with no hint of a gift how to perform a spell is like telling someone prayer makes them fly if they simply believe.

I say this because both magic and prayer—to those with no power—are oft unseen and unfelt forces. That is to say, people imagine the results. However, in the wake of ‘The Event’; I can no longer deny that both have an impact on our lives. Thus my point. The converse to above is true, having a gift without being taught is like believing you can fly with enough prayer. I spent hours—literally hours—to simply figure out one crude ‘spell.’

The creature in my attic didn’t care, at all, about objects moving around. Apparently the sound of my voice was the only thing to set it on edge, and having rocks thrown at the house by invaders. I blocked the front window and stuck a wooden chair under the doorknob.

Barring the back door might deny me an escape after the remaining protection period. So, I spent time reinforcing the fence with tables and chairs from inside the house. There were holes along the ground, and if I sat still long enough, one of those rabbit chicken creatures would burrow through for a visit. They apparently loved dad’s rose bushes.

Half a dozen mini-orc creatures poked their noses into my backyard while I worked. Each one went down with a single swing of the shovel. They were like violent and extremely weak dogs. They consistently collapsed into energy orbs, dropping their clothes, weapons, and vanished into the book.

As for the spell book, or whatever it was, I felt like I’d spent my time on the verge of a breakthrough, only to be denied an epiphany. All that remained was frustration as the glowing effect faded from my fingertips. The spells, or whatever magic the book performed, eluded me.

Seven hours had passed, in which I managed to completely rearrange the house. At the end of my productivity spree I sat at the back door’s small concrete landing and contemplated what I’d learned. I dipped my fingers into the pages once more and brought it up.

The situation bugged me. Specifically; the light, vanishing bodies, and even my debt card handed out by the stewardesses. Every ounce of this whole mess threatened to drive me batty. My card had changed, it still said my name but the first and middle name were in smaller letters. My last name, Underwood, sat in giant bold font. The dollar amount had gone up but I had no idea why. Even the title changed, but [Rune Wander] meant nothing.

Without the internet, I couldn’t research for the word ‘rune.’ Without readable books, I couldn’t look in a dictionary. I felt stupid for not knowing what it meant but my skills were focused on graphic art, or knowing how to read a football play. They did not lead me to playing fantasy games; which clearly had been an incorrect life choice. Hindsight did me no good.

I waved my fingers around. The light cast no shadows upon the walls. Grass, trodden upon by filthy monsters, wasn’t brightened. It seemed as if the light only existed in my head and had no physical impact upon the world. Once again physics didn’t matter.

Unless I was seeing energy that somehow hit my optic nerves similar to a light, but didn’t cast off heat. That might have to do with how the energy orbs went through walls. I speculated those thoughts and many others, yet had no solid proof of anything.

It would have helped to have someone else to talk to.

Post Note: By the time I found someone else, it was too late. These initial speculations were disturbingly accurate, almost like I knew on some deep level how everything would function. That, among many other little nagging factors, has kept me awake at night. But I have no one I can trust to talk to.

At some point during my distraction, a finger shifted color slightly. I narrowed my eyes and moved around again, trying to find out which position had caused it. One finger crooked, the others bent, my hand formed half a claw, and finally I found a position that worked. The color of my fingertip, only one, had changed to red, exactly like the lantern.

“Ahh!” I shouted happily.

Predictably, the creature upstairs growled. So far it had demonstrated three abilities. Growling, eating, and staring down at me disapprovingly. It also reminded me of a demon from hell, or the closest I’d ever actually seen outside of church artwork.

I took a few steadying breaths and fought back the urge to dance in happiness. This was as good, or better, than being able to walk normally. The thought sobered me. I’d already taken being able to move without pain as a matter of fact. Even the scratches from those mini-orc attackers had faded.

My body healed faster, from injuries both prior to ‘The Event’ and after it. The reasoning made no sense. I’d have to explore that too. Maybe one of the features to my book allowed for self-healing. I could only assume the changeling orb handled that portion.

Reminding myself that there were rules helped calm me further. If there were rules then it’d be easier to survive. That’s all survival really was, figuring out the rules and my own needs. Wiggling fingers around wasn’t science or deductive reasoning.

I shook my hand and found the position again. After twenty repeats of the same motion, I finally got the first finger in a correct position. The second finger was easier since there were only many angles to bend at, and the third. Soon four of my five fingers lit with the red hue.

Before the fifth one, I paused and wondered if this was a good idea. This might summon fire. It might turn me into a squid. It might create angry mini-orcs. The point being that I had no clue and only vague reasoning to go off.

Still, if the stupid squishy mini-orc’s leader could summon fire from blood, this should be something similar. It made no sense for the red lantern to perform one way for him, and a separate way for me.

I put my last finger into position. There was a roaring sound, or whoosh of air, as if something pulled and sucked away everything around my head. My mind squished down until no conscious thought remained. A force tugged my hand. I stared at the colored energy with a vague feeling of being pulled through a rabbit hole. There was a pop in my ears and pressure on my chest. I gasped and reflexively shook my arm as if casting off icky liquid.

The light separated from my fingertips and splattered onto my shovel. Five points brightened intensely, bleeding onto the metal. Lines formed between the red sparks until a small sharp edged eight point star remained. The red burned and gradually faded to a dull blue.

It reminded me of the exit signs. I had zero idea what that meant. My mind managed to stay detached while studying the markings and replaying my feelings during the separation. Each moment was analyzed until I could only come to one conclusion. I’d performed magic, albeit with the aid of my book.

I cupped my face in my hands and breathed in the thickened air. I’d done it. My body threatened to shake apart from joy. It’d only taken me a day and a half to make sense of the item I’d purchased. Those stewardesses had been right about a great prize.

Once again I dampened my own budding elation with cynicism. I’d been better before the accident, bubbly and happy. Now, everything I did was tainted by a darkened outlook. Calling it realistic was still a disguise for deeply rooted negativity.

Post Note: To say nothing of how many people died during the opening mall trek. A barren neighborhood implied the deceased amounted to higher than suspected. Additionally there were monsters, such as the one in dad’s attic. Still, people would prove to be just as dangerous.

Even though my spell had been completed, I had no clue what it actually did. There were no fireballs. I assumed this was a rune, as stated on my debt card. I ran my fingers across the markings. They had depth, but nothing poked through to the shovel’s other side. That made no sense.

Thankfully, it didn’t trigger. That left me utterly clueless about the results, but I expected it’d do something with fire. I hoped it would be that simple and easy to deduce. In the future, assuming I survived, I might get all sorts of items that the book ate. If they were utterly random in their results, I’d probably end up killing myself.

I dropped a book on the shovel. It did nothing. A dozen more experiments failed until I settled on live testing. I’d need to get one of the mini-orcs to touch it and see if it reacted.

The plan was basic. Lure a few of the creatures. See if the glowing star lines did anything to them. They should be caught in whatever. It would hopefully hurt them, but if not I could take out two by myself or run back into the house.

It felt perfectly sound. This idea required bravery, but clearly this changed world wouldn’t let me sneak around dad’s backyard forever. I knew, with utter certainty, that this was not an event where people could bury their heads in the sand. Maybe a doomsday prepper would be able to hide in a shelter, but eventually I’d need to cut the apron strings. I had to risk my life against creatures that were easier to kill.

I had to take a chance.

“Damn,” I dared utter quietly.

A small hole in the wooden fence let me see a patrolling group. They were in smaller bunches after a lot were killed in the last day. My efforts at killing single scouts also thinned them down. The group going by consisted of four mini-orcs with lame weapons, and a shotgun wielder. Either there were two of them, or this one had escaped the winged horse of doom.

I cupped my hands over my face again and took a deep breath. They moved slowly while sniffing around. The shotgun wielder paused and waved his gun’s barrel toward one of the bushes. He pulled the trigger. A blast propelled the mini-orc back ten feet.

Three of the chicken rabbits ran out of a doghouse across the street. Their monster leader stood and whooped. “Meat!”

The other mini-orcs cheered and banged their weapons. The rabbits ran, and all five of the orcs cheered each other on. They were dense, or maybe a few levels beyond dense.

I threw a rock at one of the mini-orcs. The projectile sailed perfectly into one’s chest. It flopped to the side while three companions turned to squawk at me. They lifted their makeshift weapons in unison.

The flop eared rabbits were even stupider. They drifted back in mass, more than there had originally been. Maybe that explained why the mini-orcs hadn’t attacked right away, they were letting a bunch of them gather. My rune testers got distracted by the closer meal.

Two more rocks hit mini-orcs perfectly. They shouted at each other and pointed. I waved to make sure the dimwitted creatures noticed me. The monsters jumped while bumping each other. Their leader pointed his gun at one of the others and shot a companion in the face. His companion’s face turned to mush, leaving three and their leader.

My eyebrows scrunched. I got their attention by tossing another rock. It smacked into a mini-orc. They got the message and charged me with the weak ones in the lead. I pulled back to the far end of the yard and stayed near my house’s rear door. A mini-orc stepped through the remaining wire gate, right where I’d planted the rune etched shovel.

It stepped on the shovel tip. The yard rocked. Flying pieces of the creature melded with broken fence. I blinked from stupefaction as the mini-orc’s detached head flew at me. On its face was a rolling set of eyes and wide open mouth. I believed it to be surprised at the sudden disconnect from the rest of its body.

My hands reflexively caught the flying body part. Its mouth jerked twice from a last ditch effort to bite me. Pieces of the two behind it scattered in other directions.

The fourth stood there with guts of its friends splattered all over his chest. He held a shotgun and cocked it repeatedly with one hand. Black marks plus singed hair were the only marks of damage. He blinked.

“Oh,” I said with disturbing calmness.

It was so mad the creature shook. He took a deep breath and yelled at me, slobbering more with each word, “Leet, defeat, meat! Eat!”

That was too many noises. My house’s guardian calmly came through the adjoining house wall, strode three steps to the broken part of the fence, and ate the shotgunner’s top half in a single bite. The creature chewed, and the shotgun wielding monster stood there a few more moments before collapsing. Large wings arced through the air as the creature turned back around then walked back into the house. This reaffirmed my position as above mini-orcs, but well below the horse-sized creature.

Four orbs of energy collapsed into being. One went in the house. Three others came to my book. I’d solved another issue, and discovered I could create an explosive trap. A very violent one that made more noise than it was worth.

My mouth gaped. Blood from the deceased burned away into nothing. The detached head was the last to fade. I shut down budding panic with a long shudder. Killing a single one here or there had been easy. Exploding a batch of them was both exciting and terrifying.

I opened the book. The page I’d pulled energy from was once again brightened. Unsteady fingertips brushed upon its surface, and light pooled on them. Four fingers went into position and glowed red. My explosive rune, or spell, or whatever was reusable.

“Nnnnnghh?” Something large sounded confused.

I turned to the roof of dad’s house, worried that my contracted defender might be annoyed at the sudden explosion. My head swiveled and finally recognized that the sound came from a few houses over.

“Nnnngh?”

I found the source of confusion. A huge figure stood with an arm on a nearby rooftop. Its shoulder easily cleared the roof and the creature’s head faced in my direction. The creature’s other arm held onto a tree trunk. The rest of the tree rested across its shoulder.

“Oh,” I said again and slowly took two steps back into the house’s shadow.

My mind briefly disconnected from what it was seeing. I felt creatures as big as a horse with wings that could walk through walls was pushing the bounds of normal. A giant, for there were no other names that could apply to such a creature, was unreasonable. The giant beast stood and stretched, waving a huge tree around.

“Pinky?” It rumbled.

I prayed fervently that my clothes resembled the wall behind me.

The tree in his hands, thankfully served as a distraction. Weight, or force, or weak wood conspired to snap the thirty foot tree in two. His weapon fell onto the giant’s head.

He groaned and rubbed his head. I studied his slow movement with a strangely focused detachment. His muscles couldn’t reach all the way up. His arm locked and couldn’t raise above the shoulder. The giant’s body had a lot of wrinkles for something so big.

“Shoddy pine. Naughty pine.”

I could hear the sound of his dry skin. Flakes floated down. The giant looked around but apparently couldn’t see that well. Each observation went away into a mental folder for later review.

Four of my five fingers were still curled into position for an explosive rune. I shifted focus between the giant and my hand. Another possibility occurred to me. I hitched my breath as the stupid idea formed. I could blow up the giant.

The reasoning felt too simplistic but the payoff might be huge. Well, it would be the same size as a giant-sized orb of energy. I’d told myself I needed to take chances. The explosive rune worked better than I could have possibly expected. The giant certainly qualified as a bigger risk.

I quietly waited for the large creature to forget about my home. It took ten minutes, maybe more, to settle back down behind the neighbor’s house. My fingers twisted into the pattern of an explosion once more.