The Quiet Town

It was a nightmarish day, with demons and monsters wandering around the town. It just made me sigh. This again. It seemed like the guard got wasted and allowed them in weekly at this point.

I stretched after surveying my surroundings. A line of monsters was marching along like a battalion of soldiers, looking for the next human to kill. Why they never actually went into a building, who knew. Monsters were dumb creatures that only realied on blute strenth. It was the demons that people had to worry about.

In my hand on the wooden counter was a leatherbound book and quill, magically filled with infinite ink. With the guard too plastered to do shit, this was gonna be up to me to deal with.

After thinking for a second, I put pen to paper, writing the monster’s death. I spelled out the word fire on the blank paper, the blood-red ink still wet on the page. The book absorbed the ink, returning to a completely blank book.

Outside, the monsters alight in a sea of flames. The smell of burning flesh wafted into the magic guild where I stood. Their screams were a delight to my ear, the roars of usually powerful creatures of sin being submitted by some hot burning air was a treat to anyone who hunted the monsters.

The crowd around me slowly got up from their hiding spots as they watched the massacre outside. Only cheers rang out as they suffered outside.

I walked through the doors, looking for the rest of the monster’s army, not that they stood a chance. Anyone that faced me would only end of dead in a serious match. I was simply too good for mere mortals.

I heard the roars of the monsters as they noticed me, walking nonchalantly around the medieval town. My pen raced along the paper as the book absorbed my ink. Spears of ice shot from the ground, impaling every monster without fail. Blood scattered on my robe. What a pain to wash out, though there wasn't much I could do right now. If anything, the blood added a bit of decoration to my grey robes. I needed that, a bit of life in my outfit.

Next, I sent a gust of air down the street. The monster corpses all flew up, levitating on the bed of air. I walked through the now empty street as the bodies threatened to crash on top of me, not that anything of the sort would happen. My magic was simply to powerful.

A few minutes later, and I couldn’t sense any monsters left in the vicinity of Townia. The streets became alive, as the town’s folk left the safety of their homes and businesses. With monsters, they were dumb as bricks. If they couldn’t see you, then you didn’t exist as far as they were aware. They never relied on hearing or smell, simply because most monsters didn’t have ears or a nose. The ones that did were the ones to watch out for, but they only lived in certain areas of the world, not in a backwater place like Townia.

“Theo, did you do this?” The sound of a young boy no older than twelve came from behind my back. It was Alos, dressed in a simple woolen cloak and pants. He was the only son of the guild master of magic here in Townia, and my pupil on the weekends.

“Of course. Who else could use such a variety of magic? It only took a flick of the wrist before the monsters left this world.” I jokingly posed for him, acting like a gallant magician, fresh off a new discovery. “Can you go get your father for me? It looks like we’ll have to go interrogate the guards again.”

“Of course Theo. Can you tell me what happened? I wanna hear the story!”

“Maybe later. If we have a celebration tonight, I’ll tell it to the whole crowd.” I rubbed his head and sent him on his merry way. The kids were always fun to entertain, which was one of the more interesting parts of my gig here in Townia. First, however, was the knights guild.

I walked through the bloody streets, looking for casualties on my way to the guild. There was always one idiot who decided that the monsters were easy pickings, and got skewered. It was usually some apprentice Knight or assassin, though no one had died from a monster attack in weeks now.

I could hear the bustling of the town as things retired to normal. It was only six in the evening. Sure it was pitch black out, but that wasn’t going to stop anyone. Townia was full of resilient people, used to the garbage that life would throw at you.

That didn’t make it a rough town though. The people here were as nice as I’d seen in this world, all hardworking and humble. Townia wasn’t the richest town I had seen, but it was one of the cleanest. The stone streets were impeccable, barley a spot of dirt to be found. Houses were all kept up, on the inside and out. Chipped paint was nowhere to be seen, and the insides were neat and tidy.

The people of Townia were proud of their image, and world their buts off to keep it. Well, except for one part of Townia anyway.

The Knights guild was located at the edge of town, separate from anything else. There weren’t any entrances to the city around here either, and most of the buildings near the guild were currently unoccupied or used by the Knights.

The first thing that hit you was the smell. Unlike most medieval cities, Townia smelled like a field of flowers or a nice summer breeze. The Knights guild smelled like someone threw up on themselves while drinking too much.

Broken bottles lined the street, becoming more frequent the closer you got to the stone building, taller than anything else in town. The outside looked weathered and unkempt, with the stone covered by dirt and who knew what else. Piles of dried vomit were everywhere once you got to a certain point, some of it rotting out in the open, the knights not giving a care in the world.

The door to the guild had been broken long ago, so anyone could come and go as they pleased. I immediately gagged as I entered, the smell too much to handle. It was like the knights had vomited everywhere, then never showered for the rest of their life. How anyone lived like this, I couldn’t tell.

The receptionist was passed out, still in his armor. A wine bottle was still in his hand, its contents spilled all over his lap.

I grabbed my book and quill from seemingly thin air, also known as the pocket dimension I kept them in. “Summon= Water bucket.” I wrote as the ink disappeared.

Sure enough, a bucket filled with water appeared at my feet, just as I requested. I picked it up and splashed the receptionist right in the face.

“Huh? Who? What?” His gaze wandered around the bottle laden room before focusing on me. His confused expression turned into a snarl. “What’da you want magician? If ya don’t got something important, then get out of haaare.”

The slurring in his voice was evident to even the most oblivious of people. Nothing good came out of talking to him for much longer, he was too drunk to care.

“I need to see Miguel. There was another monster attack, and you guys didn’t come to help… again.”

“Monster!” The knight rose to his feet and tried to draw his blade before collapsing into a heap on the ground. If he was too drunk to stand, he wasn’t going to be useful in the slightest.

I left the knight to his own devices, who was still looking for the monster, and headed up the stairs. At least a fourth of the steps were completely broken, with several more in terrible shape. If the stairs were wooden, then they would have collapsed a long time ago.

On the second floor, I found two of the knights fighting each other with broken bottles, both completely wasted, and another four passed out on the ground, one covered in his own puke. Nothing of interest to be found here.

The third and fourth floor were in a similar state. The desks were smashed and chairs were broken as the few conscious knights stumbled around the rooms.

The stairs started to creek as I made my way up to the top floor. Apparently, the knights had even damaged the wooden support beams somehow in their drunken state. On the floor was a row of wooden doors, and somehow only half of them weren’t smashed to bits. If anyone who didn’t know better saw this, they would just assume this building was abandoned. No one would allow a stone building such as this to get in such bad shape, well no one but the Knights that is.

I made a beeline for the office at the end, taking extra care not to look into any of the offices with smashed doors. I’d made that mistake before, and I wasn’t in the mood to look at dead bodies covered in unspeakable things right now. One accidental whiff, and I smelled exactly that.

Whenever a Knight died here, normally from blood alcohol poisoning, their body was usually thrown in one of the rooms up here. It was easier than burying them after all. While I personally found it disgusting, there wasn’t much I could do.

The door at the end was the only one in good condition, with the nameplate still legible. It read “guild master: Capt. Miguel.”

“Yo Miguel, it’s Theo. I’m coming in.” I waited a few seconds for a response; then burst open the door when I didn’t get one.

Miguel was dressed in an undershirt at his desk, completely unkempt. His hair was a rat’s nest and his body odor was worse than anyone else’s in the guild hall. He looked in my direction with unfocused eyes, a bottle in his dirty white hand.

He took a swig of alcohol, then gagged over his messy desk. This had all happened before, many a time. In fact, I hadn’t seen Miguel sober in over a year.

I looked out the broken window behind him before speaking. All I could see was a pitch-black sky stretching across the horizon. If it wasn’t for the glowing orb on the wall, then the room would be dark as night.

A second later, a red-haired man burst into the room. He wore robes of an even deeper red, lined with gold on the edges. His blue eyes fixed on mine before turning to the drunken Miguel, who looked like he still didn’t understand who we were.

“Theo, have you talked with him yet?”
“Haven’t got the chance to, though I doubt he will remember anything we say.” Miguel just took another sip before dashing to the window, and puking over the side. “Theo, I’ll leave this up to your magic.” The man next to me, Levar, was the guild master of the magic guild, also known as “The King of Flames” to the rest of the world. No one I knew could best him in a fight, and that included me, and I had tried.

His only real limitation was that he was absolutely terrible at any non-attacking magic. In fact, the average three year old could perform more complex healing spells, which was impressive in its own right. A detoxification spell would be way out of his wheelhouse.

A few words written later, and Miguel was sober as a log, or I guess hungover as a log would be a better comparison. I could have just taken away the drunkenness, but that would have left Miguel without the hangover he so rightfully deserved.

Miguel was holding his head in agony before he even noticed we were there, making him jump. “Why are you two godforsaken sinners here. Just stepping here is an insult to the goddess.”

Levar just rolled his eyes. “Miguel, there was a monster attack today on the city. While we were able to keep them at bay, it is the Knight’s Guild that’s supposed to keep the monsters out of the city in the first place.”

“So what? You killed those pests just fine. Were too important to waste on your petty squabbles with monsters

“Yeah, I’m not part of your fucking cult, so to me, your just a shitty alcoholic that deserves no rights”

“Why you little… I’m one of the Goddesses’ chosen ones. You should bow to me peasant!” Miguel snarled like a wild beast. Though, you could make an argument that he actually was one.

“Why the fuck would I care what an imaginary goddess thinks? Get off your high horse.” I said.

“Woah Woah.” Leven jumped in the middle of us, a fireball in each hand. “Now let’s calm down now. We just need to talk to you about the monster attack, and then well be out of your hair.”

“Fine. Speak sinner.” He slammed himself down on his chair, causing the building to shake.

“As I was saying, there was a monster attack tonight, and while it turned out ok, this should have never happened in the first place. There also happens to be a King’s envoy coming next week. Now I’m not a genius, but if I was an envoy for the King, and saw that my knights were acting like this, how do you think I would feel?”
“Bah. The envoy will agree with us. We have no reason to care about the goddess’s forsaken trash.”

“Oh, it’s not a lower-level envoy coming. Prince Charles himself is coming here, and while I don’t know why, I can't believe he would be pleased with the current state of affairs personally.”

Miguel’s face turned white as a sheet. “Well… I'll see what I can do. Anything for the royal family.” The last part he was barely able to squeak out as the fear visibly built up in his head. Malpractice by the guild master of the knights could be punished by death if found out, though we wouldn't be losing much if he died.

“And with that Miguel, we bid you adieu.” Leven marched out of the room with me on his tail. I could hear the door slam in a fit of rage.