Tales of magic: grimoire of transmogrification
Chapter 51
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Arc 2 – “The hunter and the beast”
Chapter 35- “Rend”
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Live by the sword, die by the sword.
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2nd April, 1886.
Weidson, Pridon.
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14:09
The sound of the downpour drowned away their voices. For a few moments all that was heard was the sound of raindrops smashing against the earth.
If remined like that until William suddenly pulled the trigger. The crisp sound of a gunshot rang in the air. The smell of gunpowder too.
Hunter’s handgun was pointed at Sword’s shoulder when it went off. Smoke was still coming out of the nozzle.
Ein smiled, right before spitting something out of his mouth. The sound of metal falling on the ground snapped William out of his trance-like state of shock.
He shook his head, slowly in disbelief.
“What can I say? Your gun was slower than my blade. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”
“You’re as fast as ever.” William muttered right before spitting out a mouthful of blood. His chest and abdomen was painted red with blood. A big round hole. He collapsed onto the ground.
“That..cut deep. You somehow got around that hard skin of mine, didn’t you? Stabbed the actual organs. Beast did that too, you know? It hurts a lot more than I thought it would. And it’s bleeding, isn’t it?” He tried to copy the condescension in Ein’s voice but failed woefully.
“You...you look horrible. Older than me, when I should be older than you. You’re 27, William. I think it’s time you give up.”
‘I won’t give up on you...’ He tried to say, but he just spat more blood instead.
William lay, face down in a pool of his own blood. A pool that was getting bigger, and mixing with the rain water.
The distant sounds of that man’s boots were the last sounds he actually listened to, right before he stopped caring. And then his eyes closed up.
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16:36
Veronica opened the gate and walked out. The pouring rain had already soaked her clothes through. However there was a merit to it; the rain water had managed to hide her tears.
It’s not as clear-cut as you thought, right? You know, you’re just like one scummy Mage I know. Except you’re not a Mage and all the power you have depends on me.
“Do we have to start, now?”
Fine. You ran your errand. I’ll stop bugging you.
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17:21
Lancaster sat down in the couch tapping his right foot on the floor.
It’s done.
‘Don’t activate it yet. Wait until the bloody idiot gets up, alright.’
Isn’t that bad for us?
‘This is a contingency plan. Also if that sword-weilding bastard kills his brother, we’ll be stuck trying to kill the stronger one in under four days. William getting his shit together is a good thing.’
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19:56
Jordan frowned. Beads of sweat went down his forehead. He was staring at the symbol again, spellbook in hand.
“Just have to give it some time, right? I’ll wait right here until it’s done. A portal linking directly to the place I’m going, Journal. A self-casting spell - Lancaster called it a spell formation. Portals aren’t my specialty- they’re his. But I’m making a stable one, so I can go back and forth, transitioning from material to spirit while leaving behind something to tether myself here. You. So I don’t get short changed by spirits who hate me, we’re using using lesser spirits that don’t know any better. Takes more time but gets things done. ”
He paused for a moment, catching his breath. He was still staring at the glowing symbol.
“.. Lancaster is doing the exact same thing. His diversion is only going to keep William back for so long. We’re not going to leave our bodies here, so he can bust in and get rid of us in an instant. Of course, destroying you would make it impossible for me to go back and I’ll be a spirit forever. Oh, and I’m going up against that creepy souleater thing first since he doesn’t have an army to subdue me. He might just kill me by looking at me- who knows.”
He quietly laughed for a moment though quickly his laughter turned into sobbing.
“I’m scared. I finally have a fucking chance and I’m scared. I’m finally scared, Journal. Is it a good thing? Or am I screwing things up?”
The clock continued to tick and he continued to wait. The rain outside had stopped.
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23:44
Utter darkness. Pitch black. Nothingness. That was what greeted him. He turned his head over and over again, searching for something out there, but he was disappointed. He didn’t feel the ground beneath his feet- he saw nothingness there too. Neither did his eyes catch the sky- for there was none.
Stolen story; please report.
William sighed.
“I failed him. I’ve gone and died before him.”
Suddenly he head a voice. He heard something.
“No.” It was a girl. It took him a moment to remember who always wore that sassy look and had those beautiful locks of red hair. Lisa Middlesworth.
“You’re a figment of my imagination.”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is; you haven’t failed him yet. You still have a purpose out there. Another beast you have to bring down, idiot.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you such a big dummy that you don’t even know that? Hunt down and slay the monster, that’s what you do, right?”
William nodded his head.
“Right.”
He blinked for a second and all feeling came back to him in an instant. It was dark out here too, but it wasn’t nothingness anymore.
He felt intense pain in his torso. The wound was still there, and he had lost way too much blood to still be alive. A feeling of extreme exhaustion washed over him. He wanted to just lay down and not get up. But he still got up.
“Right.” He echoed those words again, speaking to no-one in particular.
The Hunter still had a target.
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3rd April, 1886.
Weidson.
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7:45
The birds chirped happily as the beautiful morning sun shone on Weidson. Busy men and women were on the move, on their way to their places of work. A lady was distributing newspapers with the headlines: ‘Sheriff Howard officially declared missing.’ ‘Mysterious supernatural phenomena confirmed by 24 people’ and the biggest one being ‘The Queen comes to Weidson?’.
One of the people who took an newspaper and threw back a few coins wore a black trenchcoat. That person stepped away from the crowd, and started his way down the street. His unkempt long black hair flowed in the wind and his eyes were so intense it was as though he was trying to burn a hole through whatever of whoever he was looking at.
Ein clutched the grip of the sword at his hip. All his injuries from the battle against William appeared to be gone as his right hand and leg were still connected to his shoulder and knee respectively.
The man suddenly stopped. The sounds of birds cawing echoed in the distance. It was the sound of crows. From the volume, he gathered that there were dozens of them. Or more.
Then he heard a gunshot in the distance as well. He narrowed his eyes, staring at that direction. Then, gripping the handle of the blade still in it’s scabbard and at his hip, he shook his head and continued walking away from the crows and the gunshots.
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8:13
A man who looked very much like that other man, pointed a pistol at a bird from more than 4 feet away and fired. The bird landed on the ground, dead.
“Another Crow. You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” William frowned, reloading his gun. Dozens of those dead birds lay scattered all over the area. Dozens more were flying still.
“Herding? These aren’t all spirit familiars, right?”
A single bird perched on a roof more than 12 feet away, watching. It’s eyes shone bright yellow...
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8:14
Lancaster smiled widely. He was holding a glass of red wine, dressed in a bathrobe and sitting in Oliver’s living room.
“No Willy. You see, they’re worse- most of them aren’t even real.”
To think it’ll work on him.
“He knows. He’s just playing along because he knows a bit too much.”
You know, at one time I believed learning your human language would serve me- help me understand you. I was wrong. I can’t understand you, no-one can.
“Thanks a lot, bitch. I really appreciate it.”
From the dining table in the next room, Veronica simply stared at his direction with a curious expression.
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10:11
Jordan snapped awake. He was lying down on the sofa wearing the same clothes he wore before, reeking of dried sweat. He cleaned off the drool on his face and got up.
“Damn. I slept. I actually just slept at a time like this.”
He walked towards the spell formation. A glowing blue hole was hovering over it. It looked like a tear in the very fabric of reality – which was in fact exactly what it was.
“Lancaster must’ve done his part already – which means he’s probably already finished his job without any problems. Heck for all I know he did that...”
He glanced at the clock. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
“... Twelve hours ago! Exactly how tired was I? Or maybe it isn’t tiredness.” He touched his chest underneath his shirt, feeling up the wound. His heart wasn’t magically back. The cavity remained- unchanged.
He ran towards the his room. In a few minutes he was out, dressed in a brown coat over tight suit with a brown tie. His hair was well combed and his breath was marvelous.
He stared at the portal and took a deep breath.
What do I have? Simple creation and construction spells that let me create something I fully understand – the greater the mass of the object the higher the Power consumption. Of course the worth of the materials is also taken to account – I’m sure those sly bastards are cheating me. Matter manipulation spells allowing me to give the objects I create unnatural attributes. Oh and transformation and transfiguration spells.
I guess body-replacement is out of the question. The blood, flesh and bone bastard has completed shut me off. But rejuvenation still works so hurray for tiny life spirits!
He exhaled, pushing away all his worries. Then, he stepped through the portal.
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11:42
The grand-father’s clock in the living room kept making that ticking noise. In response to it, she covered her ears with pillows, quietly begging it to stop.
Margaret was unkempt. Her eyes were sullen and lifeless. Her hair was all over the place. She hadn’t made the effort to dress decently- she had only a lousy top and shorts. She was sure she stank, and the house wasn’t in any better shape than she was.
A knock in the door reminded her of something. A while ago, a man had knocked just like that and she refused to open the door. Somehow, he managed to come inside to gawk at her with a cigarette in between his lips and a smile on his face. He was anything but charming- but his presence was... comforting.
She spoke for the first time after that day. And it was to him.
“Why do you come here?”
“What do you mean? I came here to see you.”
“Why?”
“You’re falling apart. I came to watch you drown.”
He said those harsh words without batting an eyelid.
“William. Why?”
“You don’t have anyone else visiting you, do you? It’s just me. You see, I’ve experienced it time and time again, Margaret. And considering you’re much older than me, you should know better. Being alone is fucked up.”
Margaret cracked a smile, Identical to the one she had back then, right before she had kissed him.
She suddenly frowned.
‘I... I shouldn’t have done that. We shouldn’t have done that.’ She stared at the clock, before pulling out her pocket watch. The frown deepened.
“I can’t afford to be like this. In a few weeks the rules will change. I have to get up and get out of here. I have to...start fighting again. There’s no time to waste.”
Suddenly she heard those knocks again. It wasn’t an illusion; those knocks were real.
“I’m sorry, William. We shouldn’t...do this again.”
“Look, I know exactly what’s going on in your head, and I know it’s not that.”
“Really. Just leave. I’m okay, now.”
She felt her eyes getting moist. She wiped them off.
‘My dad’s dead. I don’t have much reason to keep on hopping timelines. Maybe it is time to stop and move on. But then there’s the War of the Mages. And I’m his enemy...’
Another knock snapped her out of it. Whoever was knocking was persistent.
‘William.’
She ran up the door and paused right in front of it. Taking a deep breath and shaking her head, she unlocked the door.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. I...” She paused. The man before her wasn’t William but he looked very much like him.
“Expecting someone different? I’m guessing William.”
“Who...who are you?”Margaret took a step back.
The man barged in through the open door. It was at that moment she recognised the sword at his hip.
“Sword.”
“Clock. You don’t want to waste my time, do you?” He gripped the handle of his blade. Margaret ran towards her room, but slipped and fell on the floor. As she was scrambling around to get back up, Sword spoke up.
“I hear you have a tool that’s very comparable to my speed. A sword of time that defies logic and always severs it’s opponent in exactly a second. Literally pauses time just to land a precise attack. Let’s see it.”
“You’re playing with me. I know that look. I’ve...seen it on William back when he was sniping someone a while ago. You’re ... looking down on me.”
“From the looks of it, you’re looking down on yourself too. Beating yourself up about something. But I don’t care about that.” He unsheathed the blade completely. “Show me.”
Margaret clicked the side of her pocket watch, summoning the sword.
In an instant, their battle was over.
Blood spatters all over, showering on the room. Nothing remotely resembling a human remained.
Ein shook his head and walked away.
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