Chapter 7

I pass through the gates and behold the wondrous glory of Magali. Beneath us, the tan cobblestone pavement shines gold with the reflection of the evening sun. The buildings are old, yet all renovated with the latest works of Steampunk technology. Mages of both little and great renown flow through the streets like wine. Attractive women dressed in the most exquisite fashions prance through the streets, pursued desperately by love-stricken suitors. The scent of lush, savory foods fills my nostrils, and the sounds of merriment echo from one street corner to the next. Here in Magali the sky is bluer, the girls are prettier, and the food tastes better. Everything in Magali is better. Better and unreasonably expensive. I love it!

I lift my arms into the air in grandiose poise. Slowly, I sashay down the street straight ahead, reveling in the beauty of the city. Passing on the right is a group of two young ladies. One is a Witch class mage dressed in the loveliest black corset. I catch her by the hand, raise it high, and lay a strong kiss upon it. The young witch smiles delighted by my boldness. I wink at her and keep moving. Magali! There’s no place like it!

As I continue down the street, a mage riding on top of a miniature tidal wave almost mows me over. I spin out of the way and let him pass. Katherine, who walks behind me, also narrowly manages to avoid a collision. “See that guy riding on top of the wave,” I say to Katherine, “that’s a Pirate class mage.”

Katherine observes the situation closely. “Who’s that chasing him?”

I peel my eyes off of a tantalizing little blonde thing to check. Running behind the pirate is a tall, angry man wearing a knight’s armor. “Oh. That’s an inquisitor. The law enforcers.”

“Then doesn’t that mean the pirate did something bad? Shouldn’t you help catch him?”

“Nonsense! I’m not helping an inquisitor. The inquisitors are all a bunch of overpaid bullies. When they’re not fighting criminals or death mages, they keep their skills sharpened on the weak and defenseless.”

I take a left off of the main road and pass through an alley. On the other end, there’s a wide street lined on both sides with all sorts of street vendors. I find one selling kebabs, and buy two. I also get some roasted chicken from another vendor, and fried potatoes from a third. For a drink, I purchase a bottle of red wine to share with Katherine. But then I remember that I have no idea how old Katherine is. “Katherine, how old are you?” I ask.

“Seventeen,” she answers.

Hearing her answer, I decide to get her some ginger ale instead. I’ll keep the wine for myself. Once we have our dinner secure, I lead us down another series of streets and alleys until we come out by the west side docks. From there we go straight ahead until I see the battle coliseum on the right. I don’t know whether there’s an event going on or not, but I hope so. Katherine and I reach the coliseum entrance where there is a velvet rope and a guard equipped with a halberd to prevent free entry. “Is there a show going on right now?” I ask the guard.

“Yeah,” he answers indifferently.

“How much per ticket?”

“Fifty âmes.”

“I’ll take two.”

I make Katherine hold my kebab sandwich and wine bottle while I take out the money to buy the tickets. Then we pass through a short corridor and into the area with the large bleachers. There are a lot of people filling the stands, but we still manage to find pretty good seats at mid-level. It appears that we just missed the end of the last match. At least I assume that a guy lying in the arena unmoving means that the current match is finished. Like standard procedure for arena matches, a team of life mages surrounds the defeated fighter and scrapes him up off the ground. Wrapping his arms around their shoulders, they carry him out of the ring while the other fighter celebrates in adulation.

“Katherine, have you ever come to the battle coliseum before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“Then you’re in for a treat. You wanted to learn about magic, so watch closely.”

In the opposing arena entrances, the next two fighters stand waiting. They’re kind of shadowy in the descending entrance, so I can’t quite make them out yet. But right now, in the center of the ring, the fight announcer holds the stage. “My lords and ladies, for this, our last show of the evening, we have a special bout planned for you. First, fighting out of Iris City, Magnolia Kingdom, this man is a Fortissimo class knight, and champion of over 10 battles, let me hear your applause for Sir Ivan Goldstein! As the audience cheers, Katherine and I pitch in with half-hearted applause.

The announcer waits for the cheers to die down and then he continues. “Our next fighter, fighting out of Arpeggio Academy, Âme Kingdom, this young girl is only 16-years-old, yet she is an ultra class mage of the Asclepius genre, champion of over 16 battles, the apprentice of our very own Arch Lady Benedicta, my lords and ladies, on your feet for Carlotta Lenoir!”

Immediately, the coliseum fills with deafening cheers. People are applauding and whistling so loudly that the air is completely saturated with sound. I don’t know who Carlotta is, but she’s clearly the favorite. I jump on the bandwagon and begin to cheer loudly too. From the left-hand arena entrance, Carlotta emerges. The cheers only grow louder as she makes her way to the center of the ring. I strain my eyes to take a good look at Carlotta. Like the announcer said, she’s a 16-year-old girl, with long, wavy blonde hair, well-defined muscles, and a sword bigger than herself strapped to her back. She looks completely calm and comfortable before her opponent. This fight will surely be something to see.

The announcer gives the rules for the match. The match will be a five-point match with one point being awarded to a fighter each time he or she can floor the other fighter. In the event of a knock out, the fight ends immediately. With the rules established, the fight begins.

At once, Sir Ivan, the Fortissimo, lunges for Carlotta. He tries thrusting her with his sword, but she draws the sword from her back and swings it horizontally. I guess due to the contrast between the size of her body and the size of her sword, he didn’t realize that her weapon was longer than his. Sir Ivan takes a big shot to the ribs and goes spiraling sideways to the floor. “One point, Carlotta!” the announcer calls. More cheers erupt from the crowd.

I sloppily guzzle down some wine directly from the bottle. I can’t take my eyes off of this thrilling match even for a second! In the center of the ring, Carlotta and Ivan begin their next exchange. He channels his mana energy into his sword and it begins to glow blue with the natural color of mana. “That’s Martial Magic,” I tell Katherine. “Now his sword attacks will be stronger. I bet Carlotta won’t even be able to block them now.”

Ivan swings his sword at Carlotta. She blocks it holding her large sword with one arm. He swings again. Leisurely, she repositions her sword and deflects his blow. Releasing a loud battle cry, he lifts his sword high intending to cleave it down on Carlotta’s head. But before he can even pull it downwards, Carlotta gives him a swift front kick to the stomach. As his body doubles over from the blow, his falling head is greeted with a left knee to the nose. Now his head is whipping backwards with blood spewing from his nostrils. Screaming in rage, he forces his body to snap forward to advance at Carlotta. He takes a half step and then realizes that Carlotta is sticking her palm out in front of his face. He barely manages to close his mouth in time to avoid literally eating Carlotta’s Comet spell.

Sir Ivan’s smoking body sails backwards through the air and crashes to the floor. “One point Carlotta,” the announcer begins.

Carlotta ignores him. She simply resheathes her sword, turns her back, and walks towards the arena exit. When the announcer asks her where she’s going, she replies, “Count.”

The announcer makes the ten count. Surely enough, Sir Ivan fails to get up for ten seconds. Thus, Carlotta is declared the winner by knockout. At the arena exit, Carlotta is met by her master, Arch Lady Benedicta. “Katherine look!” I shout excitedly.

I point off into the distance at Benedicta. She’s a woman in her early 20s with blood red hair, ghost white skin, fiery red eyes, red geisha makeup, and a purple kimono split at the bottom to allow room for a frilled black dress. “Remember what I said about ultimate class mages, and about reaching the grandmaster level in multiple disciplines while still being young? Well Arch Lady Benedicta is the poster child for that. By every standard, she is the most powerful female mage in the entire world.”

Katherine’s eyes light up in wonderment. “Wow! I’ve heard about her, but I’ve never seen her before. She looks really cool!”

Because Carlotta knocked out Sir Ivan so quickly, Katherine and I didn’t even have time to finish our dinner. So we remain a little while in the coliseum as the rest of the crowd clears out. Once we’re good and ready, we too, make our exit. “Wheeeew,” I whistle. “Never mess with those Arpeggio women.”

Katherine walks next to me so closely that we rub shoulders. “Say Master, could you beat that Carlotta girl?”

“Eh he he,” I giggle nervously. “I could beat Sir Ivan.”

“That’s not what I asked Master.”

I look up at the sky. It’s almost completely dark now. One of the unique features of Magali is that there are lanterns posted on the walls here. The lanterns are one the main reasons that Magali is able to have such a vibrant nightlife. But unfortunately, Katherine and I haven’t even made reservations at an inn yet, so it would be careless to go partying before acquiring a place to sleep.

“Katherine, we’ve got to find an inn, but first there’s one more thing that I want to do.”

“What’s that Master?”

“Buy new clothes.” I lead Katherine through the maze-like streets of Magali to the store of Wilmette the Fashionista. When we enter through her front door, Wilmette comes out of her back room to greet us. “Souladonis darling,” she says to me.

“Wilmette it’s great to see you!” I exclaim. We exchange kisses on one cheek and then alternate to the other in accordance to the manner that nobles often greet each other. I tell her, “I was half afraid that you wouldn’t remember me.”

“I would never forget you. Nor you’re bad habit of wearing purple on top of purple for that matter. You’re just one big purple pumpernickel aren’t you darling?”

Wilmette takes a good look at me from head to toe. I’m still wearing the shredded, bloodstained coat and vest from before. “My goodness darling. What in the heavens happened to you?”

“Goblins.”

“Dreadful!”

She grabs her measuring tape off of the front counter and begins to size me up. It was Wilmette who made my favorite purple coat before. I’m hoping that she can make me an identical one. After she finishes taking my measurements, I gesture for her to take Katherine’s as well. I can’t have my servant looking like a slave.

Now comes the hard part – the materials negotiation. “So darling, what can I do for you?”

“I want identical clothes to what I’m wearing. For my servant, I want…I don’t know. Something in between commoner and noble.”

“And would you like that magically imbued? I have all sorts of wonderful enchantment stamps.”

“No Wilmette! Just make them regular clothes. Also don’t use higher than superior-grade materials. You’re the kind of Fashionista, who will sew a tiny bell on a pocket and charge an extra 1,000 âmes.”

Wilmette gasps in shock. “I would do no such thing darling!”

She goes into her back room, then immediately sticks her head back out through the door. “Are you sure that I couldn’t interest you in the finest vicuna wool imported directly from Camilla Kingdom?”

“No Wilmette. Just make it an unenchanted, camel hair, cutaway coat colored with purple dye. If I want magical armor, then I’ll buy actual armor, and if I want expensive wool, then I’ll raise my own animals.”

“Minimalist!” she mocks.

I stick my tongue out at her and she returns to the back room. While she prepares our clothes, Katherine and I sit in the waiting room. “Katherine I was thinking about what you said about wanting to learn magic to help people, and I remembered something. There is one class in which the people are dedicated to helping others. A lot of mages make fun of them for having weak magic power, but if you’re interested they’re called the Altruist class.”

Katherine’s upper body leans towards me in interest. “What kind of magic do the Altruists use?”

I scratch my head trying to remember. “I don’t know. Life Magic for sure, and I think maybe Support Magic, but I don’t remember the third. We’ll ask for a class guide book tomorrow when we go to buy your magic wand.”

“Yaaaay my own wand! I can’t wait. I’m so excited Master!” I behold Katherine’s bright, cheery face and I momentarily lose myself in her smile. There’s something about her smile that is contagious. I don’t know what it is, but whenever she smiles I smile too. It’s like her happiness is somehow as valuable as my own. I want to guard her happiness and protect her smile. No, wait. That’s not right. I don’t even know what I’m saying. Get a hold of yourself Soul. I already told you, stop looking into those beautiful, gleaming, mesmerizing puppy dog brown eyes before she takes you for all that you’re worth. ‘Cause you’re losing it man. You’re losing it.

I shake my head back and forth savagely to toss the thoughts out of my head. I’m only moderately successful. Thankfully, Wilmette returns to the room with our news clothes providing me with an ample distraction. First, she presents the clothes that she made for me. She shows me a purple cutaway coat made with camel hair threads, a sapphire blue silk vest, a plain white flax shirt, a white lace cravat, and purple breeches – all tailored just the way that I like. Second, she presents Katherine’s clothes. For Katherine, Wilmette has prepared a green button-down short sleeve shirt with a purple ribbon around the neck, a brown dress with purple frills at the bottom, shin-high brown boots, and a purple witch’s hat to top it all off. Every piece looks absolutely wonderful. I was right to come back to Wilmette.

Wilmette places our new clothes in a sack and carries them with her to the front of the store. I steel myself and step up to the counter. Katherine asks questions while Wilmette does her pricing calculations. “How did you make all of this so fast?”

“It’s what I do darling,” Wilmette says, still crunching numbers.

“It’s Craft Magic,” I explain to Katherine. “All magical trade goods are made through Craft Magic. As a magic discipline, it’s useless in battle, but great everywhere else.”

Finally, Wilmette finishes her calculations. She slides me a piece of paper and points to the bottom line with her quill pen. I immediately burst into complaint. “By the Heaven Dwelling Golden Dragon Wilmette! Are you trying to rob me blind?”

“They wouldn’t call it high fashion if it came at a low price darling. Besides, I know that you could pay that price all day and still have âmes to spare.”

That’s not exactly true, but technically Wilmette does have a general idea of how much money I have since at one point in time I used to live with her. That’s another story. Yet while I may not have more money than I could spend in a lifetime, I do have enough money to splurge every now and then. To pay her, I summon one of my larger moneybags and place it on the counter. “So Wilmette are there any special quests going on right now that I should know about?”

Wilmette takes a quick peek into the moneybag and then closes it and seals it away in her tungsten carbide money safe. “Well darling, I’ve heard talk that there’s some sort of trouble that the inquisitors are struggling with. They’re keeping the details a secret, so I don’t know much about it. But rumor has it that nobody who has accepted the quest has come back alive.”

Wilmette curls her index finger signaling for me to lean in. I comply and tilt my body forward. “I think,” she says whispering into my ear, “it’s a death mage.”

Now while any mage with common sense would let the issue rest at that, I, on the other hand, will unquestionably pursue the matter. The harder a quest is the greater the rewards it promises. For a while now, I had hoped to find some way to ingratiate myself to the royal court. The king has at his service an apothecary of unrivaled knowledge and skill to take care of his medical needs. If I were so much as to speak with the apothecary, I bet that he could tell me a cure for the petrification curse. So if going toe to toe with a vile death mage is what I have to do to get a cure for the petrification curse, then I’ll gladly do it.

I give my farewell to Wilmette, and then head for the door. Before I leave she has one last thing to say to me. “Oh, Souladonis darling. Try not to get kicked out of Magali this time.”

I smile and wink at her. “No promises.”

With that, Katherine and I exit back to the streets of Magali. True to her character, Katherine immediately asks the obvious question. “Master, were you kicked out of Magali before?”

“Twice. But the first time wasn’t my fault.”

“And the second time was?”

“Look Katherine, I was on a quest to escort some supplies from Magali to Manon. It’s not a long distance, but long enough for us to get attacked by some bandits. I got a little too excited and I missed with my Comet spell. I ended up setting the supplies on fire and the bandits all escaped. When I returned to Magali, the guards wouldn’t let me back in the city. So really I was less of kicked out and more of banned from reentering.”

“And the first time?”

“You only get one banishment story per day.”

We travel to the center of the city where most of the inns are. Originally, I had planned to arrive in Magali a day early to reserve a room, but instead I’m somehow two days late. We go first to the Sterlington Suites, but the inn is out of rooms. That doesn’t surprise me. What does surprise me is that the Chrome Chimera, Whitewood, Cherry Shoes, and Hodge Pot Inns are all completely full as well. Dejected and desperate, we go to a small log cabin-like inn in the less glamorous part of the city. It’s called the Armbear Lodge. I’m sure that it’s one of the older inns in the city, and clearly its glory days have long since passed. It’s so dusty and worn down looking that I suspect the owners have neglected its maintenance for decades.

At the counter booking the entries is a weasely looking man with orange-brown hair that is crossed over at the top to hide his baldness. Yet the comb-over job leaves his hair looking straggly and unkempt, so he really isn’t doing himself any favors. His thick, wide eyeglasses are enormous to the point that he ought to be able to see through walls, yet I doubt that he can see much of anything considering that he doesn’t notice Katherine and me until we’re standing right in his face. When he finally does notices us, he hops back startled. Realizing that we’re customers, he says, “Welcome my lords and ladies to the Armbear Lodge. How may I help you?”

“I’d like to reserve two rooms from now until the festival ends on Friday.”

“I’m sorry my lord, but we only have one room remaining. It’s a double room with two separate beds if that suits your needs.”

I look to Katherine for her opinion. It’s not ideal, but technically it could work. “What do you think?

“Master, I can’t walk anymore. Let’s just take the room.”

“Okay, how much?”

“At 2,000 âmes a night for seven nights, the total is 14,000 âmes.”

“What! Two thousand âmes a night for this place?”

“It’s because of the festival my lord. Some of the other inns are charging three times that much.”

“Yeah that’s because the other inns are actually inns! You’ve got some real audacity calling this crappy shack a lodge!”

Katherine tugs on my arm interrupting my tirade. I glance down at her face and get sucker punched by her tearful expression. Her cute mouth is turned down into a morose frown and her innocent, watery eyes plead with me to just pay the rip-off price. How is it that I feel like the bad guy when I’m the one being robbed? Submissively, I throw my hands into the air and agree to pay. Carefully plucking through my moneybag, I make sure that I give the man 14,000 âmes and not one âme more. The weasel smiles greedily and claws in my money. This is precisely why I hate this stupid city. With his money lust satiated, the weasel leads us to our room.

To my surprise our room is actually halfway decent. There’s a nice little bathroom, which I know Katherine will love, equipped with a sink, toilet, and shower – all wonderful Steampunk inventions. But other than the bathroom utilities, our room contains nothing more than an empty dresser and two beds. One of the beds is even slightly lopsided. I’ll make Katherine sleep in that one. After all of the money that I paid for this room, I’m taking the good bed!

I let Katherine freshen up in the bathroom first, and then I follow suit. Before bed, I complete my evening exercise, but this time I instruct Katherine on the proper form and function of the meditation. Once we finish with the meditation, it’s time for bed. I move to the nicer of the two beds and Katherine glares at me oddly. “What?” I ask her.

“Nothing Master.”

I start to get into the bed, but then Katherine starts speaking again. “It’s just that my feet are killing me after all of the walking we did today.”

“Then get some rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.” I start to enter the bed again, but Katherine speaks once more.

“My back hurts a little too. But I’m sure that sleeping in this ever-so-slightly tilted bed won’t make my back pain even worse.”

Now I raise my eyebrow at Katherine. I know what she’s up to, but it’s not going to work. I selfishly slam down into the nice bed. Katherine hobbles into the lopsided bed with a groan. I pull the bed covers over myself and snuggle in nice and cozy. Katherine makes a dramatic scene of tossing and turning. I do my best to ignore her. While I concentrate on sleeping, Katherine continues to make little moans and groans of agony. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I breathe in deeply and exhale slowly in submission. “Fine Katherine,” I say rising out of the bed, “you can have the nice bed.”

“Goody!” she exclaims, springing up to her feet. I trudge over to her bed while she merrily skips to mine. Lying in the lopsided bed, I realize that it’s really not even that bad. Katherine was just acting like a spoiled princess. But it’s partially my own fault for treating my servant like a princess to begin with. Really, I just suck at this whole master-servant thing. If the other nobles knew about how I always end up controlled by my servant, I’d be the laughing stock of high society. Katherine completely takes me for granted. She can manipulate me like a stringed marionette and she knows it.

“Master.”

“What?”

“I like making you feel guilty.”

“Well stop it! It’s cruel!”

Katherine giggles innocent and mischievous. I pull the bed covers over myself and smile. Katherine’s totally taking me for all that I’m worth. But that’s okay. I kind of like it.