What a Twist!

Two years ago, in a demonstration of power, Rainee Althaiez drove a car to parliament, flaunting his wealth and ability to afford an average salaryman’s car. On that same day, albeit in the late night, he then blew up the building.

According to a statement released, Rainee was then quoted as saying “Dear lord, I hate you mages and vampires, stop trying to boss me around, I just want to live in peace and yet you guys are such authoritarian assholes.”

Without so much as resistance, The United States of Aoel, the most powerful nation in the world, was left in shambles. Unable to rein in their most powerful nuclear deterrent, they were the victims of several political debacles which threatened their international reputation.

Since then, 84 separate attempts at Rainee’s life have been made, the common variable between all of them being that none have succeeded.

But that changes today. Because Rainee Althaiez, for all he’s worth, has yet to face me.

The grand! Fantastic! Azamazing, Azama Meyos, the most skilled mercenary in all the lands!

In the dim light of a late afternoon, I hold several boxes in my left hand, and reach out with my right.

I’m in a suburban neighbourhood right now, standing in front of a house. A desolate but fancy location in an otherwise silent city, punctuated only by birdsong and distant car engines.

My hand presses a metal circle of a doorbell. It rings twice, and before long, I hear someone approaching.

“Who is it?” Calls a mature human of thirty one years of age.

“It’s Azama Meyos, the mercenary sent to kill you.”

“Oh, for real?” What sounds like quickened footsteps ring out from within the building until it fades to silence. Then, after a minute passes, the sounds reemerge.

The wooden door swings inward, and from it, appears the head and torso of a dishevelled man.

Long messy brown hair down to his neck, overgrown stubble that barely qualifies as a beard, and just a tiny bit of gut bulging from his shirt.

So this is the famed Rainee Althaiez, herald of peace and destruction. Nice, I so do love the dichotomy of nigh boundless power and casual negligence.

What a fun and unfortunately uncommon juxtaposition.

All in all, his description does match what I discovered. Along with his other features I also see a pale face and body—symptoms of chronic indooritis, dark bags under eyes—symptoms of lack of sleep, and most amusing of all... A white shirt decorated with animated girls with large eyes and even larger proportions.

Nodding, I stroke my non-existent chin hairs, shifting my eyes up and down his body.

“Sorry about that, I uh,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Was missing a few garments.”

I assume he’s referring to his pants, given how loosely it seems to fit him, how there’s a barely fitted middle button, and how it’s about to make its voyage and expose his nether regions.

“No worries, we all struggle to wear clothes properly after all.”

An attempt at camaraderie, the result of careful planning and familiar associations.

“Haha yeah!” He says, an octave higher. “Totally, comes with almighty power, am I right.”

Now, we wait, giving our good old mage a bit of time to relax and ease in. If my assumption is correct (which it tends to be) Rainee should be looking for a way to introduce idle conversation. And being drawn by the bright colours and familiar imagery on my chest, would thereby refer to that.

Having studied his profile, my clothes are tailored to enrapture him in every way possible.

I considered the option of cosplaying his favourite character, but what I’m doing now is basica

Looking at my chest, he asks “So uh, you a fan of Beautiful Love Magnificent Life?”

He’s referring to the show my shirt labels, which is in fact a spin-off of Exquisite Love Magnificent Day, the elvish cartoon he enjoys. Now the Faerindt Empire and the USA are on relatively good terms (at least superficially), don’t get me wrong.

We share a lot of imports and exports alike, media along with it.

But, it’s still not that big of a trend, more a niche subculture if anything else.

So, I can imagine he’s probably excited at sharing the experience with the occasional someone who enjoys it.

“Yeah, it’s a classic.” I say with a bright smile. “It might be a few years old, but I gotta admit, in terms of animation, soundtrack and story, it’s still some of the best.”

That seems to strike a chord.

“For real man, like, can you imagine it’s 13 years old, and it’s still getting spinoffs to this day?”

In terms of expression, Rainee is very close to embodying a charismatic salesman right now, in the best possible way.

“Yes I can, my imagination is very vivid.”

“Definitely dude, I mean god.” Right now, he’s excited to the point that he’s even shaking his head a little. “Ayalië is still my favourite uh…”

There comes a pause.

It’s evident that Rainee is struggling. Not with the premise of conversation or the slight light of sun, but to resist the urge to use a specific word, that word connoisseurs of his culture associate with animated women they would like to marry.

Unfortunately, he seems to still possess some modicum of ‘self-respect’ and refuses to say it.

On the other hand, bearing witness to his persistence in the face of overwhelming desire is quite entertaining, and suitably magnificent for a man of his skills.

“Good sir,” I reply, tapping his shoulder. “I understand.”

Rainee feels a tang of embarrassment, scratching the back of his head in reflex.

“Well, Azama,” he says, pleased with my introduction. “I suppose you’d prefer to discuss inside.”

“Can’t say I’m too fond of open air and scenery”

“Nice.”

We both head inside, and we begin to head down a narrow hallway.

On immediate impression I feel like I’ve entered into a different world. From the creak of wood beneath my feet, to the ambience of the illumination, and even the smell of vaguely close spring.

Thoughts run through my mind, conjuring images of the Faerindt Empire.

Unlike buildings in the U.S.A which opt for a composite of concrete and pozzolanic materials, the Faerindt, or Elves, prefer more natural alternatives, tending towards a combination of rammed earth and wood in line with their ecocentric beliefs.

I can’t help but imagine how much such a place costs.

Even the lights in the ceiling differ from the usual standard, and instead shine a pale ocean blue, the product of the magical bioelectricity of a specific algae native to the Amilie region.

A premium variety too, might I add, one I only had the pleasure of seeing in the Faerindt Embassy, and a few specific homes of some very rich people.

“Rainee, Rainee, Rainee, how’d a nerd like you get so tasteful?”

“Haha,” he awkwardly lets out. “Guess I have a lot of free time.”

For a supposed nerd who spends all their time watching shows, I have to say that he has a keen eye for detail.

Perhaps surprising to some, is that Rainee’s house even lacks the dirt or mess one would otherwise expect. My assumption is that it’s a result of magic tampering, but there's really no way to say for certain.

His hands are smooth as a baby's sure, but so are the majority of mages.

As the most powerful man in the world, simple magic to do the laundry and wash the dishes shouldn’t be beyond him. Then again, it’s hard to say what he’s really capable of.

In the first place, I operated on the basis of him being able to read my mind. That is to say, I tried to stimulate my mind to simultaneously reason and gain sympathy, while also being jarring enough to throw him off in the scenario I would have to kill him. Yet, if he truly were capable of such an act, then I most likely would have been disintegrated already.

Oh well, perhaps it was for naught. But, hey, training your mind no matter what, is a positive regardless.

Our walk continues in the meantime.

We arrive at the living room, and Rainee sits himself on a wooden chair.

As to pay my respects on equal footing, I sit in the one opposing him, setting my boxes on the floor.

When we sit and look at each other for a good few seconds, Rainee suddenly asks with the finesse of a drunk dwarf. “So, uh, you probably want to know why you’re here.”

Which speaking of, I really do. Because, frankly, there was never any sense in this mission. Both the idea of killing Rainee, and on short notice no less, is illogical. There’s no reason for an association of the USA to want to undermine national security and kill its strongest nuclear deterrent. That and the way it was conveyed was more than suspicious. That being on extremely short notice, and through subtle but evident displays of physical discomfort by Miss Walediales.

That leaves only one possibility: It’s not that my employers sent me here to kill Rainee, but the other way around.

Maybe it’s not too late to change my circumstances. If I assess my situation correctly, victory might just be possible.

I could attempt to gun him down with the pistol in my pocket, rip out his heart with my hand, or shatter his testicles with a kick.

Or he could do the same, countering my pistol with a firebolt, stopping my hand with wind, or crushing my bones with gravity magic.

Tsk tsk.

Now isn’t this a quaint turn of events? To think that I am on the losing end for once. An azamazing twist if I say so myself!

If physical aggression isn’t guaranteed to produce results, then let's aim for a more diplomatic approach.

Accordingly, I decide to ask a question in response to Rainee’s question from earlier.

“I assume it’s because I killed a friend or compatriot of yours, and you want revenge?”

“Uh what, no.”

Oh, it seems I’m mistaken.

He denounces my assumption with wide eyes and head scratches.

Fascinating, so it’s not a matter of revenge.

“Then you want a duel to the death?”

Also possible. Mages are renowned for matters of honour and pride. It may be that the strongest mage wishes to test themselves against the most skilled mercenary for no other reason than a challenge. Though, at the same time, that doesn’t match his past actions and the profiling I made…

Can a guy who never so much as killed someone, or hold a public seminar properly, really conjure up the want to challenge another to a duel?

Probably not I say!

Then, what is it? What is it that even the Azamazing Azama Meyos cannot solve? What exciting new possibility awaits within this utterly astounding mage before me?

“Ok, I’ll just make it clear.”

Rainee has both hands behind his head, looking flushed, signifying embarrassment.

“Do you wanna like, go teach at this place I’m running?”

Teach?

How utterly strange and interesting!

I was aware Rainee had an academy in the works, but for him to ask me to teach there is another question entirely.

So with interest in mind, I ask “Like a mage academy?”

“No like, uhhh.” The mage stops.

He can’t bring himself to look me in the eye. There’s air in his throat, but they don’t leave. Which is a shame, because for the first time in a while I’m surprised. And not just that, but I’m enraptured by curiosity, joy, and a slew of wonderful emotions. And to think I came here, intent on bribing him with cake. How terrific. All these wonderful variables, all these unexpected outcomes, I wonder what utterly unconventional and creative scenario would unfold!

“Rainee, Rainee, Rainee, finish your sentence won’t you, there’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

I lean back in a way that signifies comfort and faith. Then, as additional affirmation, shoot him a thumbs up and a wink.

Needless to say, in awe of my utmost sincerity, he’s beginning to muster some confidence.

Frankly, I can’t wait to see where this goes. For a man of boundless power, he sure is underdeveloped in other areas. But really, that only means the potential and threshold for improvement is higher.

Speaking of potential, is that an exhale I spot? A tension of muscles in his body and legs? At last, will Rainee be born a new man, stiffen, shoot upwards, and lean towards me in a spurt of energy?

Oh wait, that’s happening right now!

And so, staring at me a good hand's length away, Rainee with a burst of conviction speaks.

“Like the one in the show Beautiful Love Magnificent Life.”

I couldn’t believe he said that. So much so that a sliver of doubt over his precise meaning still remains.

“You mean you started a school based on your favourite elvish cartoon?”

I see him stare steadfast, the only thing betraying his fear being the subtle tremble of his index finger.

“Yes.” Rainee then says.

So this is Mr. Althaiez.

Haha.

No wonder mages hate this man, by their standards he’s completely crazy and out of control.

Which mage in their right mind, no less one as powerful as he is, would start a magical academy just to replicate the scenarios in their cartoons?

None I say!

But hey, what difference does it make to me?

If being crazy means having this much fun then I’m the craziest person in the world right now!

“Say no more, I’m on board!”

With that, it had been settled. Starting from the upcoming day, Azama Meyos the mercenary is no more. No longer will he act in service of money and government. But in the ideal of a single man. A man who wishes to fulfil his personal fantasy of having a magical academy, just like the one in an Elvish cartoon.

Awesome.