Chapter 4: The First Spell

June 18/12:19 pm

The night devoured all but the artificial lights scattered across the airport like a magnified chip.

Solfin tread between the crowds and to the prepositioned police officer. The airport had been half sanctioned for the surge of the now-returning elites, mostly politicians, mostly hated ones at that.

It was awfully calm, he thought, before realising his headphones were still on. And so he removed them and was met with the dry rumbling sound of paparazzi flanking them from every opening. Their camera flashes went on to blind anyone they’d wanted to interview.

Flash Flash “Sir can i have a moment! Just one question!”

Flash Flash “Is it true the Australia recruitment plan will be terminated?”

Flash Flash “Just–One! JUST ON—”

Flash Flash “How do you plan to protect the eden artifact? Does it have a name?”

Flash Flash “PLEASE just—”

Solfin was overwhelmed by the moans. He ignored them for now and resumed his path down the sidelines, his eyes wide open for any threats against the marching politicians.

He leaned on the nearest police officer and exhaled what felt like an hour's worth of carbon.

“Ey, have you seen any mages around?"

“Any mages? Only you so far.” the policeman responded.

“Only me?”

“You’re the light child Solfin, or am I mistaken?” He stepped back.

“Yep, yeah that's me.” Damn it

“I can ask through the radio if that’s necessa—No need“ a voice cut through from the side, urging both Solfin and the policeman to alter their gaze.

There were three people. Two guys, one in yellow fortress uniform and the other of slightly longer height in a plain grey coat, wearing sunglasses. Their third was a girl of sleek figure, she shared a similar grey but her face was hidden from the light.

“Captain Shiro, Fujikawa and who?” Solfin threw.

“How do you not remember the only girl in your division?” Shiro replied.

“Ah Kazue, how are you doing?”

“You can take a guess.”

“Stressed?”

“Stressed.”

Solfin nodded in empathy.

“Why are you guys, and kazue, here anyways.” He began,

“You two wait for me a little bit.” Shiro went on to whisper, before grabbing Solfin by the shoulder and dragging him to the door of a nearby open car.

“Look at them go,” Kazue giggled,

"I'll excuse myself to the toilet now real quick, could you keep guard?”

“Sure thing.” Fujikawa grimaced

Seconds later he began to walk around scanning bystanders, lost in his own mind.

Of course I always get the stressful jobs, what a joke! He punched the air, at the end of his sight a reddish figure had brought him a nostalgic tingle. Hold on,

It's the annoying guy from the fortress conference. What's he holding, is that an egg??

“What the hell are you doing here Solfin, didn’t I station you at the fortress?” Shiro curiously threw.

“Ohh about that, I got someone else to do that.”

“Itanou’s on the plane with the escorts. Aramaki’s patrolling the Fuji shrine. Who did you manage?”

“The Helfer-rank guy.” Solfin nervously replied.

“Helfer rank?” Shiro’s fingers began to twitch “But Fujikawa’s right there.”

“The other Helfer guy…” Solfin murmured before adding,

“The new recruit.”

…

“Are we serious?” Shiro’s fingers tightened into a fist.

“No one’s gonna attack the fortress anyways, nothing there’s worth risking your life for.”

“Our entire arsenal you denvelt, what the hell!”

Fwip—thk!

“What’s that noise?” Solfin turned,

Splak!

“Don’t change the subje–” Shiro followed.

A ripple of gasps and restrained laughter spread through the guests,

An angry activist dressed in red, had taken his chance at the distracted mages and threw what appears to be a painted egg on the face of the prime minister accompanying the guests.

Drip Drip

“How about you stop sending our children to die in Australia!!” He vigorously barked,

Even the vice captain, the person who’s supposed to forbid such acts, Solfin. Had broken down in mannerless laughter “Thanks for the save!”

Before grabbing that man by the collar and dragging him somewhere far from the public eye.

Not quite the usual routine for Solfin. Fujikawa pondered.

He'd usually beat up wrongdoers in plain view of a camera and publish the recorded video on the internet for all to see.

Wait a second, why is he wearing that…

Fujikawa took in a long deep breath, glimpsing at the furious Shiro, "I guess today is special after all."

He sat on the pavement for a few minutes, then,

Thud Thud steps amplified from behind,

“Hey kawa! Did I miss anything?” Kazeu tapped his shoulder.

“Just the usual trouble.” He exhaled.

“An egg hhh what a statement!” She giggled a bit too loud.

“That could have very well been a bomb.” He looked at her,

Fujikawa’s grimace was too strong to hide.

Chapter 4: The first spell

The next day--dumya.

Dumya’s eyes saw many, many things.

And finally, she let the alien urge within her take control, and her eyes lost their calm green,

Sparking into a scorching, sun-like yellow. A light which clearly illuminated her target up above.

Mirroring the man from the alley Dumya kicked hard against the ground, building pressure in her calves. She leaned sideways and let the highly-pressured mana erupt from her feet, generating a concussive stream of wind that propelled her upwards.

Her left shoulder and hand scraped against the wall next to the rusty ladder, the kinetic friction leaving a brilliant trail of sparks in her wake.

Seconds from reaching the manhole, she planted her right leg against the opposing wall, anchoring herself horizontally and forcing the wind torrent blowing from her other leg to repeatedly rotate her person sideways, building a terrible momentum and generating enough force for a blow that’d send that manhole into orbit.

The screech of the wind escaping the tiny cracks roared like a terrifying siren as the angle of her left leg began to sharpen, tripling her speed.

The initial impact finally drummed, announcing a shockwave and the krheeeeeeh! whistle soon to come.

The spin, accompanied with the heat of the impact, had instantly dried her wet dress. Not to mention the daylight flooding the shaft, and the flying manhole which began to echo a whistle so thin it shattered nearby windows, orchestrating a symphony of car alarms.

On the other hand, the drum of the impact was instantly followed by a dry CRACK of The recoil force exploding Dumya’s wooden limb into a web of splinters and sawdust.

The very same concussive blow that launched the manhole into a better place, had now sent her hurling down the sewers like a discarded doll under a hydraulic press.

Her momentum was interrupted by nothing but her fall down into a puddle of the same foul substances she had cleaned off the then-existent roof. And the dawn clouds calmingly greeted her through the hole above.

Finally, in a moment of peace and quiet. Simmering there, incapable of movement. Dumya had managed to look at the beautiful sky.

And her pupils faded back to their original green.