Features from Further Away

The Mage - I

"Where is she?!"

Two men stumbled into the clearing, their worn out boots disrupting the layer of dust that had settled over the pavement throughout the years. It was clear they had their hesitations about coming to the lonelier parts of Skyra, but the fear of unemployment that hung over their heads hardened their courage. That is not to say they weren't disturbed -- or rather, scared -- of what lay in the quiet streets and empty houses ahead.

"She was here a moment ago, I swear it cap'n!"

"Ye? Well do ya see 'er now, ya arsehat?"

A drop of water fell onto the forehead of the older man, making him look up in surprise. A small crack was visible between wooden planks that lay atop the rusted pipes, which were attached to the buildings in a rather unstable formation - right above his head. Drip, drip, drip- came the sound of more water droplets splashing against the planks, which seemed like they would collapse at any moment. Gulping nervously, he stepped a few paces away from the pipes onto the next pavement- only to find something very peculiar.

Rain had been terrorizing Skyra for 3 months straight, and all the streets were drenched in water and full of puddles. All the streets save for the one that the man was standing on right this moment. He looked up again to marvel at the rare sight of clear skies, and exhaled in disbelief. It was as if a barrier not visible to eyes of man had been placed directly over his head, separating the street from the rest of Skyra and the cold, wet demise it faced.

"God of my gods..." he muttered in awe.

A soft snicker echoed from a dark corridor ahead. The man's head snapped towards the sound, the gears in his head turning as he figured the situation out. "It's the damned witch!" he bellowed towards his almost forgotten subordinate further away, who seemed much smaller in size and in experience. He shuffled apprehensively towards his captain as the older man fixed his eyes on the sky again. "She's playin' one o-er witless mind tricks on us ag'in!" he scowled, the wrinkles on his face appearing more prominent than ever. "We mights already be drenched to da' bone and not know it thanks to her damned spells!" He looked towards his cowering partner and raised an eyebrow. "Go on, Jared- do somethin' about it!"

Unsure of what to do, Jared inched towards the dark alley and peered into it, finding nothing but a pitch black void. In an effort to hide his cowardice, he mustered his courage and yelled. "COME OUT HERE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, YOu...y-you... yOU WITCH!" His timid echoes bounced off the cold walls of the corridor, and for a moment there was absolute silence.

"The hell you just call me!? Witch?" came a screech, followed by a swift kick to Jared's jaw, which sent his body flying. He slammed against the wall on the other end of the street, and fell to the floor, unconscious. The older man stared as his subordinate slumped onto the ground with his mouth agape and his lips trembling. His attention quickly turned to a young girl strutting out from the dark alley, her hands poised on her hips and her face contorted into a scowl. "Excuse you, mister, but I am no witch. I am mother-fletching Beyoncé of the middle. Goddamn. Ages." She snapped her fingers curtly to the rhythm of her words. "Witch. Please."

Her head turned slowly towards the other man, who was now shaking with fury and perhaps, he admitted to himself, also with fear. His anxiety only increased when she abruptly turned back towards the unconscious Jared and promptly stomped down on the boy's lower regions. The Captain flinched as he heard a sound resembling cracking bones. If he was lucky enough to escape this situation, the burden of Jared's limp body would be on his shoulders. If he escaped. He clenched at the hilt of his sword as the girl adjusted her glasses and raised an eyebrow at him. It's now or never. "I..." he cleared his throat anxiously as he inched closer to her, assuming a defensive stance." I, as a member o' the guards o' the Council, condemn ye to court fer illegal alchemy activ-"

His words were cut short, as were his panicked breaths.

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The Mage sauntered across the street, humming as she admired her latest masterpiece. She circled the body slowly, occasionally poking at the man's arms to gauge a reaction. None came. His eyes remained wide open and unmoving, and the mage contemplated whether she would want to poke them too, but decided against it. She has a huge enough bounty over her head, and having blinded a man would not help her case in court. Though I won't even be going to court, these idiots can waste their lifetimes and never catch me, she thought to herself, but shook her head. Whatever, just in case.

"You know... Joe," the mage muttered as she eyed the nametag embroidered above the breast pocket of the man's uniform. "I never had a chance to test my fabulous hairstyling skills on anyone before..." she yanked at a portion of his hair and started dividing the ash-brown locks into sections. A fit of uncontrollable giggles escaped her lips as she combed and braided the man's hair nimbly. In an attempt to calm herself down, she bit her lip and resumed humming quietly as she worked through his split ends.

In truth, she had no idea what she was doing, or rather why she was doing it. To convey a message to society?No, I'm not that kind of person. To genuinely help the man look better? Lol, no way. After a moment of indecision, she settled on the idea that playing pranks was her only source of entertainment left. The mage was the type of person who couldn't commit to a cause and always had to be on the move; and though she swore never to tell anyone, she felt a tiny bit like a lost puppy in the vast, chaotic world. Making friends seemed like second nature to her, but none of them she could bring herself to trust. So maybe watching people react to her crimes and pranks was the best distraction to her loneliness. Sure it was sadistic and mean, but it was funny too.

"You're gonna look sooo beautiful when I'm done! Maybe then your subordinates will finally like you... in more ways than one." she stifled another giggle as she secured the last strands of hair with one of her spare rainbow bracelets, and stepped a few paces back. "Hot damn, Joe," she crossed her arms over her chest and nodded in approval. "How can your friends not sleep with you now?" It was a long fishtail braid cascading down the man's shoulders in a zig-zag fashion, and surprisingly looked quite professional, considering it was the first time the mage tried it on anyone excluding herself. Maybe Ishouldbe a hairstylist... she let the idea run through her head, and sighed. If only it wasn't so boring...

The mage's head whipped towards a loud crash that sounded in the distance, followed by muffled shouts of men. "Speaking of your friends..." she clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Here come the corrupted bastards themselves." She glanced back at Joe's still body, every inch of him still frozen in place. Seems like it's not just my hairstyling skills that are improving. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, Joe, but sadly I can only freeze your perception and not time itself." she placed a hand under her chin and pouted. Restricting powers suck. The heavy pounding of footsteps against the pavement sounded uncomfortably close, and the mage took that as her cue to leave. "Don't worry Joe, the spell will wear off in a while, then you can fully bask in your shame." she grinned and turned on her heels, sashaying away to find her next victim.

"Thank me later."