It's Just Magic

Murder?

Sunlight streamed in through Edendir's window and he opened his eyes slowly, aware of shouting coming from outside. He stumbled from his bed and creaked open the window, sticking his head out and brushing back his hair with one hand.

"What's going on?" he called sleepily. 

"A man was killed in this hotel early this morning," a police officer shouted up to him. "We're trying to barricade the place but there's a bit of a crowd."

"Who was killed?" Boyd asked, head poking out of his own window one along from Edendir. 

"We're not sure but there was gunfire and a body fell from the roof." The officer pointed to the a messy, blood-soaked body on the ground. "It doesn't look very good, does it?"

"That's Vassago," Dylan said, appearing next to Boyd. "The body is about his height, his colouring, his width, etcetera."

"Did you hear anything, Dylan?" Aunt Katy asked. "You don't sleep, do you?"

"I was kind of busy," Dylan said awkwardly. "I didn't hear or notice anything much."

"Hang on, who's still here?" Aunt Katy said. "Dylan, Boyd, me, Edendir, Lilly..."

Edendir darted out of his room and used magic to pick the lock of Dodger's. He was stood with his back to the door, looking out of his own window.

"I know what happened," he said softly. He was shirtless with blood on his shoulder and a triangular scar in the middle of his back. 

"You're alive, good," Edendir said, turning to go. Then he processed what Dodger had said. "Wait, what?"

"I know what happened," Dodger repeated. 

"What did happen?" Edendir asked. 

*

Dodger was woken from his sleep by a creaking noise. It was as if someone was walking outside his room, the creaks evenly spaced and regular. If it was a person then they were coming into Dodger's room without using the door.

Throwing back the sheets Dodger stood up, subconsciously protecting his chest with his arms raised. He watched the door and ducked aside as the shadows slashed at his face. Moving quickly he dived for the window, hurling it open and scrambling out. His bare feet found all the grips needed and his arms pulled him up, brick by brick. He was stronger than he looked beneath a suit and was using his entire strength to get away from the invisible attacker.

A bullet whizzed past Dodger's head and he hissed, forcing himself upwards and onto the roof. He lay on his back for a second or two before rolling sideways, feeling stones rip at his shoulder. He ran forwards and got a punch in the back sending him flying forwards.

"You're a liar," Vassago spat, materialising out of shadows. He spun a sword made of fire in his hand and then thrust it towards Dodger's head. 

"What have you found out about me that's so incriminating?" Dodger asked, slightly sarcastic as he slid out of the way. His shoulder was stinging as grit got into it and his muscles were aching after years of disuse. 

"You're not human," Vassago said.

"Neither are you," Dodger shot back, sending sparks from his fingers to irritate the dragon warrior. 

"I am a warrior," Vassago snarled, swinging his sword.

"And I'm a warlock, what you gonna do about it?" 

"You're not a real warlock!" Vassago yelled.

"You're not a real dragon warrior!" Dodger shouted in return. "It runs through your blood but not directly! There is no way you could use a dragon or even summon one without dying. So by all means, go ahead." He bowed, eyes glittering dangerously as he thought of a plan.