Of all the jail cells I’ve been thrown in, New Sonora’s is by far the worst.

  Now granted, this is only my fourth rodeo, which ain’t exactly a lot, though some would say that’s four too many. The others don’t really count though. My only stay in New Hope’s jail, the cleanest and coziest by far, was utter bullshit, with my only sin being too good at killing Harpies. That plus Chrissy’s use of Phantasmal Force making folks think I used a Big Spell left the Sheriff with no choice but to take me into custody to keep me from killing anyone and everyone who thought they could take justice into their own hands.

  The Sheriff didn’t arrest me to protect me from angry townies. He did it to protect angry townies from me.

  Then there’s Silver Summit, which had a clean but cramped and bare bones jail cell, and the meals were nothing to write home about. Had to eat them all though, because the Deputies only came by twice a day to collect the old dishes, which meant uneaten food brought a whole host of chitter rats who’d keep you up all night with their squeaks. Course, my stay there was more understandable considering how many people I killed, even though the first person I opened up on was an Outlaw with a Federal bounty on his head. Guess it’s bad manners to have gun fights in the streets, though that don’t make no sense, as where else are you supposed to have your shootouts when that’s where the criminals be?

  And seriously, who values peace and quiet over safety and security? Rimepeak was run by criminals for years, but don’t no one say word one in complaint, but soon as someone takes matters into their own hands, it’s like the Mafia were saints protecting people from all the woes of the world instead of squeezing them for everything they’re worth.

  As for Ashbend? Their jail cells were actually pretty decent, with a firm cot and relatively clean floors. The corrupt lawmen brought things down a couple notches though, and I’d sooner burn the entire town to the ground than stay with them again. Which was also bullshit, because the only reason I got arrested in the first place was because I hurt Milton’s feelings by rejecting his plan to make nice with the Republic by offering me up as a sacrifice. A plan that’s come full circle here in New Sonora’s cramped and overpopulated jail cells, where there ain’t no cots to lay on and no way they’d be sanitary enough to trust even if there were. The straw covered floors are slick with what I can only assume is human excrement, as all they got in terms of facilities is a wooden bucket in the corner which I don’t think has ever been emptied.

  Makes me glad they took my boot laces before cramming me in here with twelve other people, because if my laces ever touched these floors, I’d feel compelled to burn them to ashes and put the fire out with a whole barrel of Holy Water just to send them off proper. Ain’t nowhere to sit either, and I don’t trust the stone walls or bars enough to lean, so I stand in place holding the chains of my anti-magic manacles to keep them from picking up anything nasty as they swing about and think happy thoughts to keep me from killing my cellmates for standing too close for comfort. Not that they got much choice in the matter, as it ain’t like there’s much room to stretch. We ain’t crammed in shoulder to shoulder, but we close enough that I don’t care for it, especially considering the fact that all of my cellmates are Qin.

  Now granted, they’re in here because they ran in to back me up in the brawl I kicked off because I was angry at the Nipponese, but that don’t mean they’re on my side. It’s more of an enemy of my enemy sort of thing, in that the Qin hate the Nipponese and will happily wail on them if given half a chance, while the Chileans on their side got beef with the Brazilians, Macedonians, and Nipponese, so they were happy to duke it out too. Was a good, clean melee too, with no one going for knives or guns despite there being plenty at hand, which is good because I’d hate to have blood on my hands. Well, more blood as in a death; got enough blood as is cutting my knuckles on teeth and whatnot. Couldn’t help it though, because the Nipponese deserved far more than bloody noses and panda eyes, and a few of them got it as I managed to break the knees of Kacey’s second who refused to throw in the towel even though it was clear she was beat.

  That wasn’t good enough though. She couldn’t just lose; she had to take a whooping too, earn some bruises and maybe even scars to show penance for… what? Walking me out of a tense situation to keep it from devolving into a firefight? All because her betrothed would lose too much face if I took him hostage instead, though I’m of the opinion that he ought to cut his own belly all the same for sending his fiancée to fight me in his stead. As a test of her loyalty no doubt, because we was much too friendly what how we walked side by side at arm’s length apart, especially after I lent her a shirt out of my pack to help preserve her modesty. How scandalous.

  Bass Ackwards is what that is, and has been ever since magic became widespread and evened up the playing field between genders. Women are still to be protected over men, but not because they’re weak and helpless. No, you do it because they’re the only ones who can bear children, which is necessary for the continued survival of the human race. Otherwise, they’re every bit as capable as men, especially if they got some Spellslinging to them like Kacey.

  It’s not just their ability to sling Spells either. Uncle Teddy said it best, that in using Magic, the Magic changes you in a myriad of ways that ain’t always obvious. Innates are simply the most extreme example of this, but Orthodox and Intuitive Spellcasters ain’t immune to it. Take me for example. I got my Portent that sometimes warns me of danger before my conscious mind pegs it. That’s not Magic, not exactly. It’s my mind adapting to reading not just the flow of Aether, but everything I perceive without really perceiving if you know what I mean. It’s similar to someone with a photographic memory, in how they can glance at a page and memorize its contents, but they still gotta stop to go over the memory and read the actual words before they’ll know what’s on it.

  Or something like that. And that again is a more advanced example, the development of an Ability through exposure to a certain subset of Magic, in this case, Divination. There are even more basic changes that can come about from Magic, like improved strength, coordination, constitution, and maybe even intelligence. Don’t need to look any further than yours truly, as I’ve got a lean and wiry frame that most certainly don’t look weak, but I don’t look like no bodybuilder like Marcus. In spite of this, I’ve been walking around with 64 pounds of darksteel plates strapped to me most days, 48 in my duster and 16 in my plate carrier. Keep in mind, I also carry six guns, a pole axe, a hatchet, and enough ammo to take on two hordes of Abby if need be, not to mention my components pouch, ritual wand, Etching wand, and a plethora of other random bits and bobs that all adds up to a fair bit of extra weight.

  A normal civilian would be hard pressed to move freely while loaded up like that, but I haven’t been any worse for wear. Some of that strength is just from keeping fit, but I get the feeling that not all of it is, as I’ve been getting stronger and stronger without packing on all that much muscle of late. Not enough to explain how I was strong enough to explode that mat of woven grass like that, one packed dense and made specifically to absorb impacts. Yeah, my Wildshaped Hand do be awful strong, but end of the day, it’s only a hand. Let’s me hit hard without having to worry about breaking any bones, but shouldn’t really help with hitting harder. And I don’t, not usually, but back then, in that moment as I was leaning over Kacey with arm cocked and fist clenched, I tapped into my anger at seeing her all helpless and resigned like that and… I dunno. Unleashed it all in one hit.

  Resulting in a punch far stronger than what I can normally throw out. Don’t think I can rapid-fire right straights to punch through a wall, or at least not anytime soon. It was a different sort of punch, one that just all came together and clicked perfectly in a way I don’t entirely understand to elevate the attack beyond what I can normally do. Maybe not inborn strength, but a new Ability I don’t understand just yet then? Who knows.

  Certainly not me, which is why I held back more than usual when I tore into the crowd to show them Nips what’s what. Didn’t want to kill anyone, just smack them around a bit to spread the pain, but I caught me a fair few bruises for it since I was wearing kid’s gloves. Could’ve gone a little harder I suppose, as they all deserved it for standing around with their thumbs in their asses while watching and waiting for me to beat the tar outta Kacey. Now that I’ve had time to cool off though, I feel like I might’ve done goofed. One, because after winning the duel, I had the perfect opportunity to throw at challenge at Aki boy and see how he likes it, with the children of military and political figures from all walks of life present to bear witness. Either Aki accepts and I get to beat the shit out of him in public, or he tucks tail, hides, loses his stupid honour all the same, but either way, it would’ve been the politically savvy move to make. Instead, I beat the shit out of the Nipponese and the aforementioned children of military and political figures alike, which I suppose is why I’m stuck here in jail with the Qin while everyone else got sent home with a warning.

  Which I uphold as complete and utter bullshit. Well, throwing me in here I get, as I did start a brawl and leave a fair few missing teeth and broken bones in my wake, but why are the Qin here too? They was drawn in the conflict same as everyone else, but I guess they forgot to bring their son or daughter of someone important in the diplomatic delegation to bail them out of a mess. Then again, I suppose in their eyes, I am that son of someone important, or at the very least, the nephew. Stupid that, but judging by all the fawning looks I’m getting from Jinfeng’s cadre, it looks like they all done drank the cool aide and think I’m aces, especially after I done won much face for the Republic by defeating the dastardly Nipponese.

  Didn’t do it for the Republic. Didn’t even care to spit in the eyes of the Nipponese, or help them even. I saw a group of people under attack from Abby who looked like they could use a helping hand, so I delivered that help and this is what I get for it. Thrown into a dirty, cramped, unfurnished Mexican jail cell with eleven Qin and one drunk Mexican laying on straw covered in what is most likely human excrement.

  Don’t get it twisted; he’s definitely lying in shit and piss. I simply don’t care to look close enough to see if it human, rodent, or some other creature that treats the floor like their own personal lavatory.

  At least Tina and Chrissy had the presence of mind to stay out of it. Be a bad look for the Rangers if Tina gets caught brawling, and she’ll get more than just a slap on the wrist. Sasha stayed out too, but I don’t blame him for it. Told him to keep Chrissy safe, and that’s what he did, as I’m still worried our Princess will one day read the room wrong and overreact with her very deadly Spells that she’s gotten used to throwing around these last few months. Still ain’t made a mistake just yet, but all it takes is one to get marked by the Agency for Innate Containment and Control. If that happens and Chrissy is taken into custody, there won’t be no getting her out even if I promise to bring her away to Independent Territory. Once the AICC declares an Innate to be a threat, then they’re treated like a criminal even if they ain’t done nothing just yet, so she’ll be held in captivity for as long as it takes to determine that she’s no longer a threat.

  Which is absolute bullshit, but ain’t many groups calling for the fair treatment of Innates. Most cultures worldwide don’t look kindly upon them, with the few outliers being less than reputable groups like the Nahuatl Cultists or the Qin, both of whom treat their Innates like living weapons to unleash upon their foes. Hence the general low opinion of Innates, but apparently prejudice and bigotry is okay while racism is a big no no.

  Ain’t much to be done about it either. People be scared of the unknown, and every Innate is more or less unique and unfathomable. Just look at Tina and Chrissy. They’re identical twins, and yet their Innate bloodline has affected them both so very differently, with Tina taking after her mama and Chrissy following in the footsteps of Uncle Raleigh. Tina’s a little Aether-touched, but not so much that you’d ever know it until you got to know her well, whereas Chrissy is so spacy and out there you can’t help but notice it at first glance.

  Even their Spells differ greatly, with Chrissy developing into a full-blown Magus with Enchantment Spells first, while Tina ain’t got a single Third Order Spell to her name. It isn’t a difference in practice either, as we’ve been real strict with Chrissy when it comes to slinging Enchantment Spells around. She uses more Illusions in her day-to-day life, and yet her Bloodline keeps giving her Enchantments like Catnap and Psychic Scream despite only occasionally throwing out Commands when her control slips. In contrast, Tina’s got the full suite from both Schools despite also favouring Illusions for most her life. Granted she’s been using Enchantments more and more these days, throwing out Spells like Bless, Silvery Barbs, and Sleep in battle in order to support her team of experienced Rangers in the field. Sure, she’s learning to be a Vanguard from Kairi, but there ain’t no way they gonna throw her onto the front lines before training her up proper. A Vanguard is one of the most vital roles after all, as their job is not just to keep Abby back, but also distract the more dangerous types from unloading Spells, spines, or whatever ranged attacks they might have onto the Vanguard’s unprepared allies.

  And despite all her efforts, Tina still hasn’t picked up a Third Order Spell, though her bloodline has most certainly given her a couple Second Order Enchantments in recent days. Hold Creature is the big one, and she’s been learning the ins and outs of the Spell that can take one dangerous Abby out of the fight for a full minute at the very least, which can really make or break a fight. Fell victim to it myself back in the Deadlands, and didn’t much care for it. Only saving grace is the fact that the Spell don’t always take, so there’s a chance you can fight free. Course, that’s only a chance which depends on the Spellcaster’s prowess and the target’s willpower, but there’s no real measurement for it since you can’t exactly measure either of those, now can you?

  At least Tina’s slowly getting over her aversion to Enchantments, which got a bad rep for all the mind-twisting juju it’s got like Madness and Beguile Person. Real shame that, but I get it, as don’t no one like losing agency like that. I’ve woken up in the dead of night twice now feeling like I can’t move or breathe, like I been hit by the Hold Person Spell again, to say nothing of my bad memories of the Madness when I wanted nothing more than to kill Noora and Josie before putting a Bolt in my own head to spare us all the pain of living in this miserable world.

  A memory overshadowed soon after when I watched Mr. Ramirez do just that. Killed the love of his life in a fit of Madness, then stuck a gun in his mouth when he realized what he done. Can only hope the Lord above had mercy and saw fit to absolve him of all sin, as it was the Madness that made him kill two people that night, and there wasn’t nothing he could’ve done to stop it.

  “Worried about your xiǎo rìběn?”

  The contrast between Jinfeng’s stilted English and her smooth Qinese is jarring to the ear, as she puts too much emphasis on each English syllable while putting none in the Qinese until it all sort of blends together. Takes some doing to figure out she’s talking about Kacey, and calling her a “little Nip” while’s she’s at it, which seems pretty tame for a slur packed with so much hate in tone. Ugly that, forcing me to rethink my own choice in language while I stick to my guns and act like I don’t understand a word of Qinese. “English, woman. English. You speak it, so use it if you want me to unnerstand a word you say.”

  Rolling her big, round eyes, Jinfeng scoffs and plays along. “Your Nipponese sweet-heart then. Perhaps she’s already taken her own life out of shame for your tawdry entanglement.”

  I hope not, especially since we never had one. “Kacey ain’t my sweetheart,” I reply, giving her an eyeroll in return. “Met her through Tina who was in Basic with her. Then we trained together for about two weeks on the trip up to Pleasant Dunes last year. Alongside twenty plus other recruits mind you, but she was the only one looking to Specialize in Scouting, so I showed her the ropes for a day or three. I’d say we’re friends, but that’s about it.”

  “Friends.” Jinfeng clearly ain’t buying it, though I don’t know what’s got her panties in a twist. What’s it to her who my sweetheart might be? Then again, I suppose it’s a Qinese thing, as they don’t care much for the Nipponese, so as the Great General’s nephew, I can’t be sowing my oats among the enemy I guess. “And are you always so merciful to your ‘friends’ who publicly challenge you to a duel?”

  “Seeing how she’s the first, I’d say yeah.” Shrugging, I add, “First duel I’ve ever been challenged to, but far as I can tell, it ain’t no different from a spar or exhibition match, so I treated it as such. Said she wasn’t after my life, just wanted to reclaim her honour, because she stopped me from taking her snooty betrothed hostage. Silly that, but I got no beef with Kacey and no reason to wail on her any more once I had her beat.”

  “And I’m sure the fact that your opponent was a pretty young woman had nothing to do with your rare and uncharacteristic decision to show mercy or your heartbroken expression.”

  Jinfeng’s tone is really starting to grate on my last nerve, and I give her a stare that says as much in no uncertain terms. She don’t blink to see it, just stands there with arms crossed like some spurned lover. Knowing her though, she got no warm fuzzy feelings for me, and while I sometimes dream of her eyes and thighs, that don’t mean I like her all that much. More the concept of her, a beautiful and competent woman who understands my burdens and more importantly shares them, but after seeing her again in person, I gotta say that dream is fast losing its shine even if her long, braided brown hair be awful pretty. “You don’t know shit about me,” I say, stamping down the fires of rage if only because I know she got me beat since I got no Spells and only the one hand, to say nothing of the fact that she got ten cronies around us who’d heed her every order.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Don’t get it twisted. I could probably beat her in a straight up one-on-one fight, same way I beat Kacey. Keep her back and out of her optimum range while fishing for opportunities to land a big hit. It’d be harder since Kacey was struggling with her unfamiliarity with Haste and uses two short swords, whereas Jinfeng likes using her fists and feet, but is probably also handy with a spear or long saber seeing how those are the typical weapons of choice for a Vanguard. What’s more, I had countermeasures lined up for Kacey since I already knew she uses Gift of Alacrity which has more or less the same downsides as Haste, whereas I don’t really know what sort of Spells Jinfeng uses so I can’t exactly prepare.

  Yes. I do spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about how I’d beat people I know in a fight. Doesn’t everyone?

  Getting back to the present once I’ve got my temper under control, I hold Jinfeng’s gaze a second longer while reminding myself this here be a girlie who almost killed a Razorclaw unarmed. Then an only then do I say, “Folks call me the Firstborn because I was born earlier than most, but my daddy taught me to see it as more than the timing of my birth. Ain’t enough to just be older than the others. I had to act like it too, by setting the standard for everyone who follows and helping those that I could. To me, the Firstborn ain’t just a Callsign; it’s a title to live up to, one I’ve fallen well short of, but I still try all the same. That’s why I show mercy where I can, especially if they younger. Like Ao Tian, who still lives and breathes despite almost killing me out in the Badlands. Like his cronies who helped him escape from his bindings so he could take his shot, but didn’t have the stones to help him right to the end. Like Kacey out there, and you in here, because that’s how my daddy raised me, to show mercy to those deserving of it.”

  Hearing Ao Tian’s name shakes Jinfeng up a bit, and I can understand why. Doubt she was sweet on him, as she don’t strike me as the type, but they would’ve worked closely together given their ages. Second Sister and Third Brother, the next two oldest Qin on the Frontier as far as they can tell, while the blue-haired Who Dieh glaring at us both from the side comes in fourth. The Qin start their schooling early and keep their standards high, so these three would’ve spent ten to twelve hours a day learning alongside one another, and maybe eating and living in the same area to boot since they mostly orphans. Might not have made them friends per se, but you can’t spend that much time with a person and feel absolutely nothing for them. Even if she finds him annoying, Second Sister Jinfeng is the type to take her responsibilities seriously, so she can’t much like the reminder of how her ‘little brother’ Ao Tian is liable to spend the rest of his life in a prison camp.

  There’s a part of me that wants to hammer home on that weakness, poke and prod at Jinfeng’s sore spot until she snaps, but truth is I don’t much care for the kid’s plight myself. Got a raw deal he did, taking the blame for the whole thing like he did, and worse, outright confessing to the crime under Federal jurisdiction instead of demanding to be tried under the Accords where I could’ve given him a little leeway and sent him scurrying home as a black eye to the Republic.

  To say nothing of how it’d salve the guilt from killing all those kids, especially the one who went out crying for his mama.

  When you get right down to it, the reason I’m so conflicted about this got nothing to do with race or nationality. It’s the fact that I saw so much of my reflection in Ao Tian, the other side of the coin as it were if things had just been a little different. How might things have changed if I’d’ve called out to my daddy about the strangers on the Mesa, and he ended up killing all three of them without taking a hit? I’d be a much different man from the one I am today, better in many ways thanks to my daddy’s guidance, but also worse in others. Hard to admit it, but it’s there, as I doubt he would’ve stood for my dalliances with Josie and Noora, or let me focus so much on my gunmanship as opposed to familiarizing myself with my Spells. What’s more, he probably would’ve steered me away from learning Fireball, which I love far too much to give up, and maybe even kept me on track to become a Diviner and Magus at the same time instead of spreading myself thin over multiple Schools.

  Which is good and bad, as there ain’t nothing wrong with branching out and seeing what’s what. Same goes for my hobbies, as I’d always had an interest in Etching and tinkering, but I didn’t really come into my own until after he passed. Had to save every penny I could after all, so I started doing a lot of my own maintenance, and learning as I went when I did. I’ve come a long way since, building myself an Automaton Prosthetic and a couple gadgets I’ve yet to test out, but if I keep at it, then I’ll be a full-blown Artificer in no time.

  All of which to say I am the man I am today because of everything I’ve experienced, and if things had gone just a little different, then maybe I’d be a lot more like Ao Tian. Like what if my mama survived and brought me to Fuyuan to reunite with her brother? Then I’d be the Firstborn in truth, the Senior Brother among all Senior Brothers for the Qin, though I can’t see myself swinging a sword or thrusting a spear all the livelong day. Either way, I understand where Ao Tian went wrong, and I empathize with that, to say nothing of how I understand why he might want me dead seeing how I killed his daddy.

  So I let the conversation die out after mentioning Ao Tian, and do what I can to ignore Jinfeng’s hangdog look, or Who Dieh’s piercing gaze burning a hole into the side of my head. Got no idea why she’s staring at me so hard, as there ain’t a clue to be read from her expressionless stare. She ain’t exactly glaring, but ain’t moon-eyed either, nor is she scowling, smiling, or anything in between. Doesn’t help that she’s gorgeous and striking as can be, with short blue hair cut to the nape of her neck and a front fringe that frames those eyes so well. Blue eyes to match her hair, but not light sapphire blue like Tina’s eyes or navy blue like my church pants. It’s an almost pastel blue, but bold and uncompromising, in a striking shade you almost never see in nature. I see it all the time though, as it’s got the blue an Orichalcum Etch glowing with Aether, like what you’d see on my Nanfoodle, Merlin 45, and Overture once they Primed and ready to shoot.

  Makes her features really stand out, but even without it, she’s a downright beauty who stands maybe five-foot-five at most but got the proportions extra right. Got legs that are relatively long for her height and slender as can be, shown off rather nicely in her military shorts that cut off just above the knee. Not as nicely as the rest of her is shown off in her tight tank top and sports bra though, and while she ain’t the bustiest gal I ever did see, what she do have makes up a significant portion of her torso, so she looks all the more well endowed for it.

  A short stack would be the term, with a heavy emphasis on the stack. And slim. And gorgeous. Did I say that already? Probably, but she got these full, rounded rosy cheeks and plump, glistening pink lips that draw the eyes, and I gotta keep reminding myself that I done killed this girlie’s daddy too, then left him to rot in a hole in the ground alongside his two other compatriots. Jinfeng had her work cut out for her piecing the bodies back together, disguised as Who Dieh’s younger brother who I tried taking hostage for the simple reason that I figured he’d be the most palatable option out of all the direct descendants of the men I killed. Which turned out to be a load of horseshit anyways, as Jinfeng disguised herself as the kid and dug them bodies up all the same. Goes to show that ain’t nothing sacred for the Qin, not even their own damn funerary rites, because they’ll say and do anything so long as it gets them a leg up or a hair’s breadth ahead.

  A lesson that goes right out the window when the lovely Innate opens her mouth and speaks in these silken, sultry tones that don’t even sound like she’s trying. “How were you able to manipulate your Shield so freely?” she asks in Qinese, which I have to admit do sound awful pretty and melodic at times. “I have never seen anyone do such a thing.”

  Neither have I, but that’s the advantage of not knowing your limits. If you don’t know how far you’re supposed to go, you just keep on going until you reach wherever it is you want to be. Course, rather than answer outright, I turn to Jinfeng for a translation, who once again rolls her eyes but obliges all the same. “Practice,” I reply with a shrug. “Even though it’s an Abjuration Spell, the Shield behaves more like a Conjuration Spell than most other Barriers. Means you got some degree of control over it, so even if that control ain’t built into the Spell, once you get a feel for moving Conjurations around, the Shield ain’t all that different from controlling Mage Hands or Conjured Weapons, just a little… heavier and less responsive.”

  What I leave out is the fact that I’ve gotten real good at most things Conjurations of late, and I suspect it’s got something to do with the shard or shards of Mimics stuck in my head. Yeah, I’ve put a fair bit of work in over the last two months practicing my Spells, but I’ve been using Shield to play keep up with a bouncy ball for years now, and it’s only recently that I’ve gotten real good at it. I want to say it’s because I took what I learned from using Conjure Weapon and applied it to Shield, but I can’t really know for sure. What’s more, even if it’s all me and has nothing to do with the Mimic directly, it’s still fruit of the poisonous tree in that a Mimic done given me the idea to improve Conjure Weapon in the first place.

  That said, I’m feeling in a chatty mood, if only to keep me from dwelling on my concerns or my dark thoughts, so I share what I can with Who Dieh and everyone listening. Told them I do what I can to live up to the title of Firstborn even if I don’t see myself as that guy anymore, so might as well walk the walk while I’m here. “The key is Mage Hand, though Spiritual Weapon helps too,” I begin, after taking a moment to organize my thoughts into some semblance of sense. “Those got the framework built into the Spell, namely a Conjuration you directly control with your thoughts and nothing else, so familiarize yourself with using those. Then think about how they work. The Mage Hand might have muscles made of Ecto, but the Spiritual Weapon don’t, and yet both can move freely on their own and under their own power. So when you castin’ Shield, Conjure Weapon, Shadow Sword, or any other Spell that brings up an inanimate object, you gotta keep in mind that it don’t have to be inanimate. It’s magic, so let the magic do the work and make your Conjuration as responsive as Mage Hand.”

  Which in my case, takes the Shield Spell from a First Order Spell with a ten-minute duration to a Second Order Spell with an hour-long duration, with both requiring Concentration. Doesn’t make it any tougher, though from what I hear, upcasting Shield never does. It’s a one and done Spell, something you keep in your back pocket same as Mage Armour because it’s simple, easy, and don’t require much of any commitment at all to really improve it. Not unless you a dabbler like myself who stumbled across the answer thanks to Mimic fuelled inspiration, but don’t no one need to hear about that.

  I spend a little more time and a lot more words trying to explain how it works, but I get the feeling I ain’t doin’ it justice. Then I get to wondering if it’s due to a lack of translation, as I ain’t given Jinfeng time to do any on account of how I done forgot to. Glancing at the girlie in question, I pause to see if she keen to share, only to get another eye roll that I gotta say feels a little uncharacteristic considering how stoic and mature she was last time around. “Everyone here understands English,” she says, which is a mean feat to be sure, but I stow my compliments when she snidely adds, “Although they likely have trouble understanding you.”

  “I understand,” Who Dieh declares, though it begs the question as to why she don’t speak in English either. Means I can’t acknowledge the assist, especially when Jinfeng meets my gaze with a humourless smile that says she ain’t playing along no more. Instead, I turn my gaze to Who Dieh who continues to give off the same ineffable intensity that I can’t quite place as she nods in emphatic understanding. So I keep on explaining how she should envision the Shield not as a dead piece of hardware, but as a living construct that moves under its own power and adjust expectations depending how much the Spell tries to draw from you as you cast. It’s not exactly a textbook lecture on how to use the Spell, but more of me sharing my experience with it in hopes that it’ll help guide her way. Ain’t a big deal, not in my eyes at least, but there was a time when Magi all played things close to the vest and would kill each other for silly secrets like this.

  That said, I learned this all on my lonesome, or maybe from the Mimic in my head, so I got no qualms about sharing it. Fact is, Uncle Teddy never said nothing about keeping our lessons secret either, as I get the feeling he’d be plenty happy to teach anyone and everyone who might come along provided he had the time to spare for them. The days of secretive Magi hoarding all their knowledge ought to be buried in the past, but unfortunately there be folks like Papa Aultman who’d rather squeeze people for every last red cent they can as opposed to working towards the betterment of all. A real shame that, as the days of scientists and arcanists alike giving away all their secrets seem well behind us, with a focus on profit above all else taking hold of the people worldwide.

  Be the change you want to see, that’s what Uncle Teddy used to tell me, so I share all that I can while answering any and all questions of Who Dieh with help from Jinfeng. Course, she waits until after I said the name wrong at least a dozen times before telling me how I’m supposed to say it, namely Hú Dié, which if I’m being honest, sounds exactly how I was saying it before, but different all the same. Meaning I got no earthly idea how to make my mouth make the correct sounds, but the blue-haired girlie don’t seem to care. She’s eager to learn too, but I can’t answer all her questions because I don’t know the answers myself.

  Like how did I read Kacey’s movements so easily while she was moving so fast? Don’t think I did, but I guess it looked that way from the outside, when what I was really doing was keeping my Shield between her and me to prevent her blunted but still kinda sharp practice swords from poking me in my soft bits. Or how I punched the mats hard enough to crack the wood underneath, which again, is something I’m still working out for myself. Unlike the first issue however, I’m more than happy to share my ignorance in this matter, and both Hú Dié and Jinfeng got several answers for me.

  “It could be a Deft Strike,” Jinfeng supplies, “An attack made by channeling your ki in tandem with your body’s movements to amplify your power.”

  “A Great Weapons Master is also capable of channeling Ki through their weapon attacks,” Hú Dié says, adding, “Though most are incapable of the same levels of control as a Battle Monk, many can match or even surpass their capacity for raw, unbridled damage by going all out with their strikes.”

  Would hardly call myself a Great Weapons Master, as I can hear the capitalized letters in the title even though she’s speaking a whole other language. Then again, I ain’t no Battle Monk either, just a guy who gets into fistfights more often than he should, and is learning more about melee combat than he’d really like. Guess there’s more to melee than just swinging a big stick, though I’ll be damned if I put more effort than I already am into learning just enough to keep my hide in tact.

  I blame Ao Tian. Little shit came after me with a pocket knife and still almost killed me clean, so I can’t help but give him props for that while learning what I can to do better the next time.

  Much as I’d like to learn more, neither Hú Dié nor Jinfeng got any more to add, while the rest of their cadre haven’t so much as uttered a peep. Say what you will about the Republic, but they don’t discriminate when it comes to the gender of their soldiers, as there are two other women in Jinfeng’s cadre, and both of them are Innates. Fairly attractive ones at that, but it’s hard not to be when you young and athletic, and their Brands only accentuate that beauty. One’s got a red claw or fang mark running vertically on both cheeks, as well as a set of ruby red nails that I imagine can lengthen into sharpened weapons with a little nudge from Primal Savagery or Alter Self, while the other got a bunch of freckles that got a metallic shimmer even in the gloomy prison lighting, and hair that looks like it’s spun of polished copper in both colour and texture.

  Takes more than a pretty face to catch my eye though, and the only reason I’m paying so much attention to Hú Dié is because she opened up a dialogue. Well, that and the fact that her daddy killed mine and I killed him for it, and now I ain’t exactly sure how to feel about it. She don’t seem all that broken up about it, or if she is, she ain’t obvious about holding it against me. More interesting is that among the remaining members, there are another two Innates, both with fairly tame Brands in the form of a sigil across one’s face, while the other got pupils that don’t really look like pupils, but more like a snow globe filled with glitter that don’t ever settle down. That and some built-in armoured knuckles that did some real damage while he fought, as he had the punches and kicks of a trained Battle Monk same as Jinfeng.

  These here appear to be the cream of the Republic crop, with five out of eleven being Innates. Suppose they sent their best on this mission to… I dunno? Make a good impression? Didn’t think the Republic cared, but I also don’t think they shelter their youths as much as the Rangers do, mostly because there’s probably another 200 of a similar age who didn’t make the cut, but are more than ready to step up and fill the shoes of anyone who falls here. That’s why they was so quick to throw Ao Tian away even though he showed so much promise; because they got so many more promising talents to nurture, all of whom are willing to throw their lives away for the Republic.

  A reminder that any one of the Qin here would gladly drive a knife through my ribs on orders from above, orders my mama’s brother would no doubt give himself if he had reason enough for it.

  Makes the cramped cell feel even more confined than it already is, but thankfully, Tina was able to convince me to tell Aunty Ray and Mr. Tillman all about the duel last night. Not that there was much to tell, but Mr. Tillman assured me he’d already retained local legal counsel on my behalf, one Paolo Ortega who looks as sharp as his name sounds. Paolo, but you gotta give it that old Spanish flair while picturing a fella who’s of average height and medium build with dark hair and a sturdy jaw that accentuates his strong, masculine features. Shows up to the jail cell soon enough wearing a stylish three-piece suit that’s dark grey with silver pinstripes and puts the local Sheriff to shame, barking commands at the browbeaten man to set his client free.

  Namely me, which is good because I’m running out of steam to keep the conversation going. “Thank ye kindly,” I say, as the Sheriff unlocks my anti-magic manacles while hitting me with a dark glower. “You as well, Mr. Ortega.”

  “De nada,” he replies. “I have simply performed the least of my services for which you have retained my firm for.” I don’t know what it is about fancy Spaniards, but I’m smitten by everything about this man, from his name to his voice and even the way he dresses. Gesturing dismissively at the Sheriff, he says something in Spanish that’s roughly translated as, “Every second that you continue to detain my client without charging him will only increase the amount of damages I will claim in the lawsuit to follow.”

  The Sheriff’s reply is to ignore Ortega completely while barking at the Qin to move away from the door and face the back wall, but while Jinfeng and her cadre all understand English, it seems like they don’t understand Spanish all that well. “You only lettin’ me out?” I ask, only to realize the Sheriff don’t understand English, so I look to Ortega instead.

  “You are my only client,” he replies, and to him, that’s all there is to say.

  Much as I like the man, I gotta stand on principle here. “Lemme guess. You got me out so quick because the Sheriff here was selective about who he arrested.”

  “A simplification of the facts, but accurate enough.”

  “Well, same principle applies to them then,” I drawl, pointing at the Qin behind me. “Tell the Sheriff here that I ain’t leaving without them, because they were only arrested for havin’ my back.”

  Can tell Ortega don’t like being strong-armed like this, but he don’t argue it either. He simply turns to the Sheriff and speaks in his cold, flowing tones that sound so pushy without being argumentative. The Sheriff don’t much care for what he hears and tries to argue the facts, but he don’t got a leg to stand on really. Only reason the Qin ain’t out just yet is probably because their Elder Lee Tee is still asleep in bed, so might as well lend a helping hand in return.

  Doesn’t take long for Ortega to win his case, and the Sheriff opens up the front door and gets to unlocking manacles one by one. Me, I stay to watch him follow through, and to make sure none of the criminals packed in the adjacent cells get to any funny business, most of whom are fixated on the women in our midst. Hear a whole lot of ugly things getting bandied about in Spanish and broken English, while I can only guess at what filth their spewing in a half-dozen other languages, but they all stop short when I raise a hand to the skies and utter, “Incendo.”

  Could hear a pin drop in the ensuing silence, which means tales of my message up north done made its way down south to New Sonora. Not many eyes willing to meet mine in all the cells around me anymore, and only a few manage to hold my gaze. Mostly tatted up cartel types who ain’t afraid of death, but so long as they don’t bother me and mine, I don’t care nothing for any of them. Or the gang signs a few make in my direction, most notably a fist pressed against their chest while the other hand makes an ‘okay’ sign above it, which is a symbol of devotion to the sun and sacrifice.

  More specifically, a Nahuatl symbol used to show devotion before a blood sacrifice at high noon.

  Don’t love that, as I ain’t no cultist or ally of the Nahuatl Faith who backs so very many cartel plays, but ain’t nothing I can do about what folks believe. So I pay it no mind and walk out with the Qin delegation in tow, and don’t turn to address them until we outside the Sheriff’s office. “We even now,” I say, directing my words to Jinfeng while making sure they all pay attention. “You helped me out in a scrap, so I helped get you out of jail. Ain’t nothin’ else between us, so whatever games you and yours are playing to get me to this meeting, just know that I ain’t game to play along.”

  “You will,” Jinfeng replies with a shrug. “If only because it is in your nature.” Cryptic bitch that she is, she turns heel and strides off just like that, without so much as a thank you. As for me, I reluctantly offer Hú Dié a nod of thanks as she done lingers for a bit, one she returns with a nod of her own before running off to follow her Second Sister. A few others stick around for a nod as well, namely all the Innates oddly enough, though I suppose I got a reputation for treating Innates right, and even the Republic got a few hangups about natural Spellslingers who don’t always got the best control living in their midst.

  As for Paolo Ortega, he gets a full-on handshake after I wash my hands with Water Sphere, giving ample time for Aunty Ray and the girls to come out of the café across the street. Sasha, Clayton, Mr. Tillman, and Caleb are also there, and I spotted Evan down the street while Marek is over on the other side, to say nothing of Lina and Sergei on opposite balconies to provide overwatch with their rifles should we need it. Good to see they’re taking their jobs seriously, more so than the Rangers who didn’t even bother to show up aside from Tina. Got me thinking I should’ve hired on more security, as the Wildshaping three have spent most their days finding their kin since we arrived in town.

  No matter though. Whatever may come, whether it be the Qin, the extremists, the cultists, or anyone else, I’ll handle it the same way I always do. One thing at a time, hopefully without having to burn this town to the ground.