Prop Gathering (1)

“S-so you’re probably wondering how I got here. W-well, it’s a long–”

Fwoosh! In an instant, a knife flew by, barely missing my ear by a hairsbreadth. A loud, metallic crash rang as it embedded itself into the garage doors of the ‘red herring’ pawn shop. Technically, the owner called it a seax, but it looked exactly like a knife, not that I had room to argue.

After all, I was currently hanging upside down, my legs bound by a chain.

“Not worth it,” the owner clicked his tongue before training his blue robotic eyes on me. I could see the mana gathering in the ground, poised to impale me with spears of dirt. “I didn’t expect to see ya again until ya had the payment, but h’re ya are. Is there a reason ya keep comin’ back, or are ya just lookin’ for an early grave? I don’t mind givin’ ya a ticket, on the house.”

“Um… wel… you see…” I couldn’t help but stammer at the threat. Logically, I knew that he wasn’t trying to kill me. In fact, it was probably a little scare tactic like last time. However, that fire blast must’ve left a bit of trauma; my instincts were telling me I was in danger. Illusions? On what? The chains? That won’t do jack.

It seemed like the owner noticed my unusual hesitation. “Seriously, you’re like an annoyin’ cockroach…” he complained, letting out an annoyed sigh. He swiveled around in his chair, reaching to pull some sort of cord on the far–

“Whoa!” BAAAM! The chains suddenly went slack, letting me slam face first into the dirt. A pained groan escaped my lips as I struggled to gather my bearings. Do I have a concussion?

“Better now?” I wasn’t sure, but I thought I saw a faint smirk.

“N–” The mana ebbed underneath, flaring as if to remind me it could be cast at any moment. “...sure,” I responded, stifling my complaints.

“So, what’re ya h’re for? More information again? I’m not givin’ it for free this time.”

Trying to focus, I explained what happened a few hours ago from the assailants to my request for a weapon. Illusions were like walking along a tightrope – even the smallest gust could kill me, regardless of how careful I was. The only fighting experience I had was during that one semester of university, and even then, all I was told was to run away at the first sign of danger.

“...so, I need something simple to use that’s able to protect me against physical attacks. Magic ones too, if possible.”

The owner nodded his head as he listened to my plea. He stewed for a few moments, glancing me up and down, before saying two words. “Forget it.”

“...huh?” Did I mishear? “I’m sorry, can you–”

“Are ya deaf? I said forget it. You’re better off runnin’ away.”

“Wait, but I just told you why that won’t work–”

“So what? Ya think ya can do any better with a weapon? Have ya ever held one? Let’s say a sword.” The owner reached underneath the counter, pulling out a sword slightly longer than my arm. He then tossed it over, letting it clatter onto the dirt. “Give it a swing.”

Obediently, I picked the sword up off the ground. I was surprised at how light it was, probably around two to three pounds. When I tried to swing it around, it felt more like my arms were being dragged around. On my tenth slash, the tip skimmed the top of the floor, dislodging the weapon from my hands as it spun away.

“As ya can see, swords require a lot of strength and dexterity, somethin’ ya don’t have at all. I can tell just lookin’ at ya swings that the sword was controllin’ ya rather than ya controllin’ the sword. Anything heavier will just wear ya out more. Ya would need to train for a few years before ya can do anythin’ with it.”

I gave a nod in understanding, but there were still other options. “What about a bow then?”

“Ha! Ya serious? Bows require even more strength.”

“...that can’t be true.”

“Don’t believe me? Here, try pullin’ the string back.” The man once again reached under the counter, taking out a simple wooden pole tied with a string. This time, I grabbed it from his hand, trying to pull the bowstring back. However, it didn’t budge at all.

Okay, maybe a little more force then. But it still didn’t budge. Even exerting all my strength, the pole barely bent. At that point, I sat on the ground and used my feet to push and pull at the same time, finally able to draw the bow. Of course, with my noodle arms, I only managed for a second before the bowstring slipped from my finger, slapping against my legs. I yelled out in pain, cradling them with my sore fingertips.

“Understand? Both of them are too much for ya. Like I said, a few years of trainin’ will fix that, but it’s not gonna help ya now.”

“Ergh. Then how about magic–”

“Ain’t gonna work. Don’t even bother tryin’.” The owner shut that line down instantly.

“...is it because of my mana?”

“Oh, already figured that out then? Magic tools and spellstones are made a certain way that rely on how mana works in our bodies. Yours would just break the damn thing before it can do anythin’. Maybe if ya commissioned one from a dwarf, but that ain’t realistic.”

“Then what weapon will work?”

“Just run–”

“I already said I can’t! Please,” I strained with a small bow on the floor.

He stared with a disgruntled expression, but, “...the easiest thing will probably be a dagger. You’ll still run into a bunch of problems, but it’s the only one that’ll do ya any good.”

“A dagger…?” To be honest, the first thing that came to mind wasn’t a weapon, rather a prop used as part of a magic trick. Basically, rather than being solid, the inside was hollow, usually with some sort of spring. Whenever the blade plunged into something, it would retract into the hilt, giving the illusion that something was stabbed. Of course, an actual dagger could kill, but I was at least somewhat familiar with handling one.

“...how much?”

“Why would I know that?”

“Huh? Aren’t you selling them?”

“I’m not a weapons store.”

My eyes wandered over to the sword and bow.

“Those are mine, so they don’t count. Lucky for ya though, I know the perfect shop.” That grin sent shivers down my spine.

“...and how much do I owe you?” I cautiously asked.

“Ya can consider it on the house.”

Great, now I was even more terrified.