Garina was halfway through taking a bite out of Ferdinand’s sandwich when the wave of magic slammed into her like a roaring storm.
Someone powerful had arrived within the empire. Someone that shouldn’t have been there.
Goosebumps erupted across her skin and her hair stood on end. She nearly choked on her bite as she shot up from the wooden lounge chair she sat in — though not too quicky. Garina didn’t want to break the chair. Ferdinand had spent several hours making it.
Her feet landed on the hot sand, her head already turning toward the source of the magic by the time she had risen.
And then the presence vanished.
Garina froze on the spot. She focused her senses, but it was fruitless. She found nothing. Confusion prickled at her mind and an uneasy blanket wrapped itself around her shoulders and weighed down on her back.
“Garina?” Ferdinand asked, glancing over from his chair. One of the cucumber slices he had on his eyes fell off and splattered to the sand beneath him. “Is something wrong? Or did you already get back after dealing with it?”
What was that? I know I just felt someone... right?
There was no possibility that she’d hallucinated it. But if she hadn’t, that meant an immense presence had just broken through the barrier between planes and then vanished mere moments later as if it had never been there.
The amount of power needed to do something like that was deeply concerning. There were a number of monstrous existences that could have pulled it off. None of them should have had the slightest interest in the empire.
“Someone just broke into the protected zone,” Garina said.
“Oh. Do you have to go deal with them? Also, you’re crushing your sandwich.”
Garina glanced down at her hand. It had been transformed into a ball of crushed bread and squashed ingredients. Sauce rolled down her fingers and dripped from her hand. Her eye twitched in annoyance.
And now I’ve gone and ruined a perfectly good meal. Gods damn it.
“Fuck,” Garina said. “And I would be happy to deal with them if I knew where they were.”
Ferdinand sat straight upright, worry creasing his near-hairless face as realization passed over his features. “You mean—”
“Not that one. I still don’t know where the first bastard that escaped me is.” Garina’s expression darkened even further. “I was unhappy enough when there was just one of them. Now there are two. Give me a second. And another sandwich.”
She extended her hands and drew deeply on her magic, sending her magic twisting through the nature around them. It rolled across the waves lapping against the beach and stretched over the swaying forest behind them. Fingers of power extended across the entirety of the kingdom, trawling through the runic energy permeating the world for any traces of an intruder.
It had been years since the last time someone had managed to trick Garina. And before that, it had been never.
She’d taken a few measures to ensure a similar issue didn’t happen a second time around. Where there were great powers that did not want to be known, there were signs. A gap in power could be just as telling as an excess of it.
For several long seconds, she stood as still as ice. Whoever this was, they were talented. There were nearly no traces of their arrival at all. But Garina had spent more than a few nights pissed off in bed and trying to figure out a way to ensure she was never made a fool of again.
And, as it had turned out, there was only one real way to determine where someone immensely powerful and determined to conceal themselves was hiding. It was to memorize the patterns of every single location.
Everything in the universe was a pattern. Runes bound even the most basic and simple of concepts together, permeating the very essence of every being. The world was no different. Its patterns were subtle, beautiful, and immensely infuriating. They constantly changed, an endless ebb and flow as the cycle of existence ran its eternal course.
Attempting to memorize them was like trying to remove sand from a beach one grain at a time.
Garina had done it.
It had taken her years, but she had done it. Every single night, she’d studied the patterns of the world and committed them to memory. Even changes had a pattern to them, and they were a pattern that could be learned with sufficient agony. She’d hated every second of it, but she hated losing even more. Every scrap of her effort had been put in to ensure that nobody made a fool of her again.
And now, her efforts finally paid off.
There was a change to the world’s pattern. One that didn’t belong, and one that was localized in a location that she’d actually rather enjoyed.
Though I hate admitting I’m wrong, I may have to find that little demoness and tell her she had a point. It looks like I’ll be paying her town a visit.
“I’m leaving,” Garina said.
“You don’t need help, do you?”
Garina arched an eyebrow. Ferdinand shrugged in response.
“I figured I’d offer. I’ll have a sandwich for you when you come back.”
***
The girl was a good screamer. She screamed for nearly an hour before her voice gave out entirely.
Then she fell silent, and the man finished his work in peace.
He stepped back, his eyes delighting in the results of his creation.
“There,” he said. “Look at you. Beautiful.”
The girl stood before him, as still as ice. Her mouth hung askew, her eyes were so wide that their whites threatened to swallow her irises entirely.
“I... what did you do to me?” the girl asked, her words coming out in a melodic whisper.
Her body had been fixed. Her voice box had too. And, dare the man say it, they had been improved.
“You came to me for healing. I healed you, my beautiful child,” the man replied, giving her a gentle pat on the face. The girl flinched, but the man didn’t seem to notice. “I undid the damage to your body. You like screaming, so I fixed your voice so it can scream better. I also removed your weakness. Yes, yes I did.”
“My... weakness?”
“Your vision was poor, and your heart was strained. Too much poor diet, I should say,” the man said, tapping a finger on his chin. “Your growth was also stunted. A foot too short, you were. I added on a little.”
The girl looked down at her body. Disbelief warped her features as she ran her hands across her body. Her gaze lifted back to the man and her voice trembled as she spoke. “I don’t understand. How?”
“Because I decided you needed fixing,” the man replied, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “There are many things in the world that need fixing.”
“Why?” The word slipped from the girl’s mouth unbidden, and she looked mortified the moment after it escaped.
The man didn’t mind. A smile split his features.
“Have you ever built a tower of wood pieces? Built it as tall as you could, up until your chin and then a log further?”
She shook her head.
“Ah. You would not understand.” The man patted her on the shoulder and she flinched, but nothing happens. He simply turned away and walked back over to the stone chair. He paused before he sat and glanced back. “Say, have you seen my face?”
“No,” the girl said, swallowing heavily. “I think you’re wearing it.”
“Oh, no. This isn’t mine,” the man replied with a shake of his head. He pointed at the smooth stone walls and a passageway opened up. “You were heading in that direction. Don’t forget your milk, even if it’s spoiled by now. One must finish the jobs they start.”
The girl stared at him for several long seconds. Then she mustered up a scrap of courage. “You saved me? Just for free?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want anything in return?”
“What I want can only be taken. Unless you know where my face is?”
The girl shook her head.
“Then on with you.”
“Can — can I ask your name? I want to know. It hurt so much... but you saved me. I didn’t want to die.”
“I know you didn’t,” the man replied idly. “Today, my name is Lorne.”
The girl looked from him to the passageway. Then she nodded, turned, and ran into the darkness.
Lorne nodded to himself. He walked back over to his stone seat and sat down, watching a crackle of red energy play between his fingers.
Then a frown crossed his features.
“Where did I put my mouth?”