It Takes Two

“I won’t let you!” Abigail screeched, tackling Lucille away from John. Flames engulfed the both of them, and the shield the elf had formed at the last second cracked and shattered.

“You idiot! You just cost me the opportunity of a lifetime!” the enraged elf replied, slamming her fist into Abigail’s torso, supercharged with mana.

Her attack met nothing but fire, and Abigail reformed most of her chest around the wrist sticking through her, essentially trapping the arm in her body. She was lucky it was the elf’s damaged arm, or else such a move would have earned her a shattered rib cage. That worked?

Every blow Lucille tried to land with one hand was summarily redirected as Abigail pummeled her disabled opponent. Realizing this wasn’t working, the elf formed a ball of lightning in her hand and slammed it into the pyromancer. Her flames shielded her from some of the damage, but her left arm went numb nonetheless.

The trapped arm was released, and a burst of flame knocked the elf away; the fiery brunette stepped back into the circle, releasing another lance of flame in the gunwoman's direction.

The crosshairs of her eyes aligned on the fire sailing toward her, and it faded to nothingness. She lunged forward, intent on at least not letting this prey leave… and passed right through the fire that was Abigail.

John watched as the woman who probably saved his life spilled onto the floor of the Rider-Waite base they had stood in about a day ago. Giant, glowing arrows pointed toward the mirror they had entered through the day before, and he took her hand, pulling her toward it. “I can’t thank you enough, but we have to get out of here, quick. Grace and the others already went ahead.”

“Would she attack us in here?” Abigail asked, taking his hand and running toward the highlighted mirror with him. She looked back, ready to attack as they passed through… but to her surprise the elf wasn’t showing up.

“The mission has been compromised, I couldn’t stop him,” Lucille reported, a bracelet on her wrist that she had been hiding the whole time. The silver band was tight against her, and the red gemstone inside it glowed angrily.

With a loud pop she was teleported into a room that seemed to be made entirely of metal. The floors, the walls, the ceiling. It was cold and desolate. No furnishings adorned it. A scarlet figure projected itself out of the gemstone, a man that dwarfed the elf before him. “Disappointing.”

He had to be at least ten feet tall, at first nothing more than a crimson silhouette that solidified into a real person. He was astonishingly handsome, even with his features twisted into a scowl as they were. A lion appeared at his feet, barely reaching past the man’s knees. It prowled around his legs, growling at the elf before him. The mundane animal scared her more than it should have.

“I collected a lot of good information on him. Some things even the real spies don’t know. As an example, his powers are themed after video games. He automatically becomes stronger when defeating enemies or beating challenges. He could invite me to his ‘party’, and mana was displayed therein as a blue bar in a video game theme. The display looked to be done in standard mana units. In addition, he’s made a pact with the minor **** god Thanatos. Based on what I’ve seen, he likely bound himself to his pistols,” Lucille reported, looking at the notes she had transmitted to her phone.

“And how have you discovered this information?” the man in front of her asked, tossing a slab of meat further into the room, the lion immediately pouncing on it.

“He has a scrying spell, labelled as Advanced Spy. I was able to copy it and discreetly use it on him. It’s an incredible ability. If the target isn’t focused on you, the aura flare that usually results from a spell being cast is totally suppressed. I plan to make it a permanent fixture to my abilities if possible,” Lucille replied, thinking back to the character sheet she had seen when she used the ability on John. “There’s much more.”

“Interesting… that’s quite a complex ability for a peon as him to have. If his abilities work as you say, then he has the potential to grow stronger than any of us. I can see why The Hermit was so interested in him. Limitless potential…” The powerhouse in front of her put his hand on his chin, deep in thought. After a few moments, he seemed to come to a conclusion, “You said there’s more?”

“That’s right. Due to how his ability worked for me, I have reason to believe that anything he comes across using it, he can have it explained to him. This leads me to conclude that his abilities were granted to him by one of the information gods, or perhaps Gaia herself,” Lucille finished, not bothering to add in anything that their intelligence network had already reported.

“That’s quite a leap in logic. An information God would make sense, but Gaia herself? Ridiculous. I did not hire you to jump to conclusions, I hired you to learn the full extent of his abilities, observe his actions during specific trials, and ensure he didn’t make it to the exit point by any means necessary. You did not entirely complete your mission, but the information is adequate. Write up a full report as soon as you’re let out. You won’t be penalized, but you can forget about the reward,” the goliath concluded, the lion rejoining him.

“But I followed your orders to the letter, despite the variables! I took him to the trials you specified and even nearly succeeded without killing him! How is it my fault that you underestimate-” Lucille was a proud woman, and despite the **** aura of power that emanated from her superior, she had to protest.

“Don’t return to the Springfield Base and avoid The Magician at all costs. I’ve worked hard to make sure he was unaware of my involvement. Your mark will no doubt report you, but there will be no official record of you being his partner in the first place,” the man cut her off, not even bothering to acknowledge her argument. She felt as though she were beneath him.

The walls fell away, revealing the forest once again. Abrupt as always, Lucille thought bitterly, looking at the forest around her. The time was up, the beacon of light long since faded away. She didn’t know how long she had actually been in that room with him; he had the tendency of needlessly and carelessly bending time for people he felt beneath him.

“Let’s take a moment of silence for the people who lost their lives in the forest today,” The Magician boomed over the large room, the same room they had all had breakfast in the day before. All of the applicants in Class C who had won their trials were there, less than half the amount of people as those who went in. Yesterday the tables lining the walls had breakfast foods, today caterers rushed back and forth to make sure everything was fully stocked. Very apparently he had saved the best for those who stuck around.

The bustle stopped for a moment at his words, the neatly dressed workers leaving alone the burrito bar, sandwich station, and noodle dishes they had tirelessly worked on.

“An unfortunate cost, but they knew what they were getting into. Let’s not have their suffering be for naught, hm? Congratulations to all of you for making it through!” His joy was infectious, and the whole room cheered and raised their glasses as the man above them did.

“I will give you some time to feast, take half an hour, but I will see each and every one of you in our exit meeting. It will be the same system as before. In this meeting we will discuss your testing experience, the rank you will have from here on, your duties as a Sword, and your accommodations. Enjoy!”

An A1 appeared on the back of John’s hand, a C1 on Abigail’s, and an A7 on Grace’s. “Oy! You two were both first last time! What gives!”

“I guess we’re just more important,” Abigail teased, wrapping an arm around her partner and rubbing her knuckles on the Brit’s head. While the morning had been a swirl of emotions, in the presence of so much good food and good friends, it was hard to be anything but happy.

They were interrupted by a man in a white dress shirt and black tuxedo vest, “Hello sir and mesdames, can I get you anything to drink?”

“Should we drink? Don’t we have a super important meeting in half an hour? Water’s fine for me.” John’s question was more for the table than the waiter, and while Abigail nodded in agreement, Grace went ahead and ordered.

“Warm cider for me, aaand keep them coming,” the white-haired girl ordered, slamming her fist on the table. “I’ve got more time than you two!” She pulled it away wincing, before abruptly rising. “Let’s get some food.”

Together they went, scouring the tables for whatever they so desired. John settled on a bowl of gourmet ramen with egg, mongolian beef, broccoli, carrots, onions, and scallions. At Abigail’s recommendation, he also took half a rack of pork ribs with a dry rub that smelled heavenly. He had a feeling she would be sampling them later as well.

Abigail’s plate was piled high with meats of different kinds, mostly beef. A rack of short ribs with a generous slathering of barbecue sauce dominated the first plate she held, sitting on a bed of rice. Her second plate had a ten ounce filet mignon, a kobe burger piled high with cheese and lettuce, and a cajun pork sausage in a brioche bun.
Grace decided to have desserts with her cider, her plate filled to the brim, a fruit fool in a small bowl in her other hand. The dish in the bowl consisted of custard, cream, and strawberries. A large slice of banoffee pie took up most of the plate itself. Those two could be the only dishes misconstrued as healthy, as the rest were an assortment of chocolate and caramel delights.

“Got enough sugar, Grace?” John asked as the Brit immediately wolfed down her desserts. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t respond. He looked to the pyromancer, but she was similarly busy with her steak. Man, they’re ravenous. And what’s with the variety of food? A group that does this much this well has to be magic.

The expression wouldn’t have been literal a month ago, but he acknowledged the possibility of it now. Figuring he wouldn’t have much opportunity for conversation, he dug into his food. The ribs were apparently smoked, and the savory sweet taste was enough to make him consider going back for more. With two left, he pulled one, and watched as Abigail slowly and sneakily took the last one.

“There’s plenty over there, you know,” John commented as Abigail demolished the rib she took, the meat picked clean off in seconds.

“Yeah, but those aren’t the last rib.” The brunette’s meals back home were similar affairs - get as much on your plate as possible and don’t leave your plate unguarded. Not because they were lacking money for food, but because they all aggressively loved food. Everybody always got more than they needed.

“Well, I can’t argue with that logic,” John deadpanned, taking a sip from his water. If he wasn’t about to have an important meeting, he would join Grace in drinking. Looking over at her, she seemed to be having a good time if the half a dozen glasses surrounding her plate were anything to go by.

“Should you be drinking that much, Grace?” Abigail asked, putting a hand on her partner’s shoulder.

“Geroff! I can drink as much as uhwant,” the Brit snapped, shrugging Abigail’s hand off her shoulder.

Uh oh, she’s an angry drunk, John thought, getting up with his plate, “I’m going to get some more food.” In reality, he saw the man approaching her with more cider and decided to cut her off. He used Charm before locking eyes with the waiter/caterer, “You will not serve the white-haired British girl any more cider,” the man, while Abyssal, had all of the resistance of a mundane to his spell. He immediately turned around, nearly dropping the **** as he went to return it.

Well, now I have to grab something, he decided to come back with the fruity dessert bowl he had seen Grace devour. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to enjoy it.

A minute after sitting down, The Magician’s voice rang through the room, “All applicants, the meetings are starting. Please report to me as soon as possible according to your assigned number and letter. Thank you.”