10.5 Fic: Interview with a Warlock

“It’s your move,” Ta’lok said, studiously poker-faced, careful not to stare too long at his ridiculously, outrageously good hand.   But his opponent wasn’t looking at him. Saeldor’s eyes drifted up from his own cards and over Ta'lok's shoulder, beginning a casual up-nod – someone he knew?   Ta’lok turned.   Almost certainly not.   The human standing beside their table was, in almost every way possible, the polar opposite of his Firbolg friend.   Small, even for a human. Skinny, no muscle to speak of in his shoulders or narrow chest. And a deadpan stare that put a chill over their corner of the pub.   He slid a document acoss the table toward him.   His job notice, complete with a small tear at the top where it’d been ripped from the nail   MAGE WANTED FOR MISSION IN AWAKENED WOOD – HIGH RISK, HIGH PAY OFFENSIVE STRIKER PREFERRED. INQUIRE TO TA’LOK AT THE OGRE’S MUG.   “Looking for work, I take it?” Ta’lok asked, eyebrows raised.   He nodded.   Not the talkative type, huh?   “Have a seat, then.”   He turned to pull one from the adjoining table, but Saeldor was standing, unfolding his Giant frame with care to avoid bumping the table.   “All good, my guy. Warmed this one up for you already.”   The stranger didn’t grimace, but he didn’t smile, either.   Saeldor clasped Ta’lok on the shoulder as he passed. “Fear not, my dude, I shall be only outside, soaking in those sweet rays and appreciating mother nature.” He patted his pipe pocket, and Ta’lok was left alone with the dead-eyed human.   “So you’re a mage, I take it.”   Nod.   “What kind.”   “Does it matter?”   Hm.   Ta’lok folded his arms. “I like to know who I’m working with.”   The stranger shrugged. He was examining the wood grain in the table.   “Warlock, I guess.”   “You guess?”   Another shrug.   He waited.   So did the stranger.   I’ve waited out kids stubborner than you, Ta’lok thought, only a little smugly. He began counting back from fifty in his head. He got to 36.   “That or sorcerer.”   “You don’t know?”   He shook his head   It didn’t have the evasion of a lie, however much the kid’s eyes seemed to prefer anything but contact. He guessed the origin of his powers didn’t matter as much as their effectiveness, but having a mage as an unknown quantity was sub-optimal, to say the least.   “What can you do.”   He frowned at the ad. “You wanted an offensive striker.”   “Gonna need more specifics, kid.”   That got him eye contact, and he almost wished it hadn’t.   “I’m twenty-two.”   That’s still way too young to have a face like that.   Ta’lok shook his head. Kids no light left in their eyes were why he retired. Well, part of it.   “Fine, I’ll still need some specifics.”   His gaze slid down again.   “Like I said. Striker.”   “There’s lot sof kinds of strikers, kid. What’ll you be doing out there? Lobbing fireballs? Slamming arcane cages down? Calling lightning? Give me an example.”   The stranger shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.   He waited.   “If I can see a... creature,” the stranger began, seeming to choose his words with unprecedented care, “I can cast on them. I can make them blind, make them see things that aren’t there and run away from them. Or I can just drop them. But that takes a second.”   Interesting. In one of the margins of his mind, Ta’lok made a note that this was the longest set of words the kid had yet strung together, and they had to be dragged out.   “And it’s quiet?”   “It can be.”   “The rest of the time?”   “Sometimes they... yell.”   “They do that for a fireball too. Your way sounds subtler.”   He nodded.   Sounds useful.   He extended a hand across the table. “I’ve been kind of rude, haven’t I? My name’s Ta’lok, and you are?”   “Cypher.”   Sure it is.   The human winced when his hand was shaken – for a second Ta’lok was worried he broke a bone. One day he’d get his human-size grip right. Or maybe one day they’d get bones less reminiscent of toothpicks.   “So, Cypher, what do you want to go wreck shop in the Awakened Wood for, anyway?”   “I want to visit the library.”   “Why not just go there?”   “Fees. And it’s hard to find. You have to be invited.”   “What makes you think we’ll even be near it? It wasn’t mentioned.” He indicated the ad between them.   He fidgeted, worrying a loose splinter in the tabletop. “It’s not that large an area. Resolving any ‘high risk’ situation in the neighbourhood should be worth a single visit.”   “You’d trade it for your share?”   He nodded.   Ta’lok was taken aback. He’d put “HIGH PAY” in large letters for a reason. This kid wanted a library pass more than coin?   “What do you want with the library?”   Deadpanned. “A book.”   Ta’lok leaned back in his chair. It creaked. He leaned less. Falling on his ass would distract this meeting in an undesirable way.   On the one hand, it was fair. Whatever the stranger did with his time and his share once the mission was over were his own business.   On the other, this kid was a walking morale issue.   “In terms of your abilities, anything else?” He inflected it just slightly bored. ‘Let’s wrap this up,’ style. Let him think he was being passed over. Maybe then he’d start talking.   ‘Cypher’ frowned, looking at his face for once like he was searching for a hint.   “I’m pretty good at puzzles?”   His eyebrows rose. “Puzzles?”   The stranger nodded. “Codes, passwords, encryptions, things like that. You need something unscrambled, something weird made sensible, I’m your guy.”   Really beginning to think you gave me a pseudonym, kid.   The meter of his speech had sped up. He was still fidgeting, following the table’s grain with a finger, tracing a knot in the wood in circles, but it was less erratic.   He continued, “By association, I’m a decent researcher. Give me a decent reference section and enough time, and I’ll answer any question you throw at me.”   A brainiac, huh?   Back in the forces, they would’ve put a kid like him behind a desk. Made him a pencil-pusher, untangling forms and permissions and chains of hierarchy.   Always struck him as a waste.   “I’m not saying you’re in, not yet.”   He looked up.   “But I’d like you to meet the team.”


Cover image: The Magic Brush by Zsolt Kosa