Later that evening, a tired Klein finally managed to snatch his bed back from Honker. The goose in question had flown somewhere. Klein hadn’t tried to stop it, or in any way, invited him to sleep in his room.

  We still don’t trust each other. This could be a problem when fighting.

  It was a big problem, and Klein couldn’t help but also come up with contingencies for the case Honker betrayed him. He would rather have that silly goose on his side, but he wasn’t gonna play with his life like that.

  Honker, The name did bring a smile to his face. It was such a stupid name, and it brought the earlier goose chase. That was fun.

  His thoughts drifted from that, once again his worries about his business and surviving in general reared its head. Even now he could feel himself drop lower and lower in a sink where he couldn’t come out from.

  Would I be able to do it?

  This was the question he had been asking himself for the past three years. The same question when he started academy, the same question when he started his business, the same damn fucking question when his business wasn’t doing so well. And it was the same question once again.

  Would I really be able to do it?

  He didn’t know. Perhaps he’d never know. Perhaps that was one of the reasons that he really liked divination. After all magic could save lives, could change lives, so surely, magic could untangle this knot of his life?

  He let go of those depressing thoughts, focused on the plan for the attack on the factory. They had parted without much planning, knowing that neither of them were in any way ready to take it on. Would I ever be?

  They needed practice. Klein more than Honker, as there were aspects of his new skill that he was sure he hadn’t even figured out yet, much less mastered. He’d need to go through it one by one, to master himself more. Apply his powers better. Arm himself with stuff.

  Bombs.

  It was a stupid idea. It’d make everything so easier, but he also knew that no way would he be able to make it work. He could get one surprise bomb in at max, and then the next second, the whole of Charting Borough and their mothers would be on him. Not to mention the risk he’d put others under. He didn’t hold much love for those streets, but he still held just enough humanity–as well as some nostalgic value to the place–to not put the locals under threat.

  They are already hardly living, I don’t have to cut that connection completely.

  He next thought of guns. Guns were easy to find. Ever since the System War, Askim–their continent–had become a lead manufacturer of firearms.

  It wasn’t as easy as buying bread from a general store, but if you have enough connections, it wasn't that hard. Fortunately for Klein, in the year of trying to make his business work, he had acquired just about enough connections to make something like this work.

  To think I’d be using all that experience to buy firearms. What has life come to be? Can I make the guns better? Improve upon them with my skill?

  It was a fleeting thought he had earlier as well, but the more he thought about it, it felt possible. The main body of the gun could be easily modified, but he worried about the ammo.

  I can’t go through every bullet and make them better. And even if I could, it might mess up the control of the gun. What if I increase the mass of a bullet before shooting, and it wouldn’t even shoot? Maybe changing the mass after shooting would be better, but can I do that?

  He had some ideas for it to try. It was possible, as far as he could gather, but the difficulty might just put him and his mana shaping up to the task.

  I should meet up with Professor Loch, and get some of his advice. I also have to finish the blankets for the money.

  He had called the buyer earlier to call about the date and address of delivery, as well as the most important talk of the payment. The shipment would be in two days' time, and he had around 20 blankets to enchant. It wasn’t that hard of a job with his previous skill as he had enough training with it, but ever since his skill had evolved, he found it harder to enchant larger or thicker objects. In this case, the blankets checked off both the boxes.

  At least I’ll get some practice I guess.

  His worries branched in his mind as they sapped any form of drowsiness within him. There was so much to do. So much to practice, so much to learn, and so much pressure. He had goddamn enemies behind him. That was some novel like shit; normal people don’t do enemies. They have people they dislike, or people they like.

  I feel so underprepared for it. Maybe it’s time I should go get some help.

  Klein sat up on his bed as he looked out of the open window at the night sky.

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  It might get me in some trouble. Questions I might or might not be able to give. Things I might say that I don’t even realise are more taboo than anything.

  The image of a dead Riley flashed before his eyes, and he once again realised why he had been so unconsciously against the idea. He still remembered the face of Carell as he came into his hospital room, down-trodden and so defeated. He didn’t want anyone else to go through that again. He didn’t want anyone else to die. He didn’t want himself to die.

  Can I ask Professor Loch though? He’s a powerful mage.

  He felt the merit of that idea. Surely someone as strong as his mentor could protect himself in the middle of a battle, especially one which involved Stiffers and common people. There wouldn’t be anyone who could hurt him.

  For the first time in the whole day, Klein felt relief flood through him. Like finally, the walls around him wouldn't close in on him, and engulf him forever and ever.

  And as the midnight drew close, the relief gave way to tiredness. His eyes drew closer on their own, and before he knew, he was deep asleep in a bubble safe of all problems.

  #

  “Come in,” Said a slow voice. Klein opened the door and walked into his mentor’s office. His mentor–Professor Tillmann Loch–had a small office, with walls painted in a soothing matcha colour with designs arranged in a harlequin pattern. He had a cupboard on one wall, and another see-through one where he displayed his cutlery.

  A table and two chairs sat in the middle of the room, a window opening just behind him from where Klein could see the evening sun. And just like every other professor, sheets of paper decorated his flooring.

  His mentor sat on his chair. He was a middle-aged man with a bit of an unkempt beard. He had emerald eyes, brown hair, and a squarish face. He wore the standard professor’s robe, his badge missing. A pot of tea sat by his desk, a cup already in his hands, and another one waited for him.

  Klein sat down, the cushion of the chair moulding itself just a little under his weight, and picked his cup.

  “Your adventures have been very amusing, Mr. Skyla,” His mentor says over a sip.

  “All taught by you, Professor,” He gave the man an unamused smile.

  “So I can see. I wouldn’t say I was very adventurous back in my days, but you can’t get to my position without dirtying your boots,”

  “Perhaps one day I’ll take your position, Professor,”

  “Hah! As amusing as that thought is, you have ways to go before you can achieve it, Mr. Skyla. Anyway, let’s talk about why we sip our drinks here, instead of our homes,” Professor Loch put down his empty teacup, and Klein reluctantly followed. The tea was pretty good, and he had just started to enjoy it.

  “I apologize for calling you like this, during the vacations specifically. I understand you must’ve been resting, but there’s something that I really require some guidance with,” Klein said.

  “Do tell me about this pressing matter of yours,”

  Klein took a deep breath, gathered his energy for what he was about to say and said it, “I am under attack,”

  For a few moments nothing happened. No one spoke, as if a spell had been cast, both of them seemed unable to gather another sentence after that. His mentor looked at him as if he had sprouted the colour of his underwear, whereas the pupil sat there awkwardly at his mentor’s piercing gaze.

  Eventually his mentor moved. His hands blitzed in arcane signs, the mana around his moved so fluidly that Klein could only watch him in a stupor. After he went through a few spells, the mana around him finally settled back.

  “I must say, Mr. Skyla. Of all the things I expected to hear today, this was definitely not one of them. You have surprised me. And the fact that this is neither an illusion, nor a prank, and you believe what you are saying only makes it all the more confusing. Do care to explain your proposition,” He said sternly. Klein wondered if he should try and call it off as a joke, just to see how his mentor would react, but quickly let go of the thought.

  He also realised why he had been so wary of asking others for help. Especially the officials. He was worried what they would do to him if they found out about his evolved skill. Stiffers don’t get new powers. They always stay with one.

  ‘You’re a slum rat. Be grateful for what you have, and don’t strive for more,’

  This was what he had grown up listening to, and he had believed it till now. But with the latest discovery, he started questioning everything they ever said. What if the whole world is a lie?

  I wanna look through every lie and find the truth for myself. And then, I’m gonna build a hill above the clouds and live there peacefully.

  It was a stupid dream, and he knew it. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t help but think of it ever since his skill evolved. What if it was really true?

  Should I trust him with the secret?

  His mentor had been only helpful to him ever since they started it. He had heard of other mentors who would contemptuously show no regard for the Stiffers. He had heard of so many of his dorm mates complaining about their wasted times under their mentors, who would only employ them to do their bidding.

  In comparison, his mentor was an angel. He’d never reach above and beyond for him, but he always treated him right and taught him well.

  And yet, the man was so far beyond him, like an authority, that Klein couldn’t trust him completely. He never opened up with him about his past, his ambitions. There would always be a barrier. And the same barrier stopped him from spilling the truth today.

  “As you know, we were attacked a few days ago while out collecting the shower residues. In the battle, I killed one of them. And now, I have reasons to believe that the organisation they belong to is after me,” He said.

  “What made you believe that they indeed belong to an organisation? What if it was merely an individual act? Shouldn’t your peers, Mr. Besson, and Ms. Marais, also be in danger with that logic? From what I know, they killed two of them together,” His professor questioned.

  “I… have insider information that they are an organisation. And I don’t know if the others are in danger or not. I will tell them about it soon. But even then, they have their Houses to fall back onto for support and protection. I…. I have no one,” Klein inhaled a deep breath as he said it.

  His mentor hummed in understanding, his eyes unfocused. A few seconds later, he looked up and said, “I’d like to know about the source of your insider information. From what I can gather, you seem to believe your words. Mr. Besson, and Ms. Marais also seem to be safe right now. Let’s say, I believe your words, Mr. Skyla, so what do you want from me here?” His mentor asked.

  Klein stuttered to bring a response. Was all of that not enough to reveal his intentions?

  “I…I wish to ask for your protection,” Klein said.

  His mentor looked at him with his piercing gaze, and then said, “No.”

  #