Hello readers!
I wish to share a snippet of the universe of my novel “Mage Hunter.” This short tale is freshly made (not something I cropped out from my novel.) It shares what it’s like to be in the shoes of our protagonist, Tychon Ferringway as he investigates an incident involving magic.
Enjoy!
“Tell me what happened,” Tychon asked the distressed halfling woman.
“I… He…” Irene struggled to form thanks to the shock of the situation.
“It’s okay, take your time ma’am,” Jaymond reassured, nodding respectfully with a sympathetic gaze.
The short woman explained, both exasperated, yet took effort in composing herself. The mass of bruised flesh by the fireplace used to be her husband, magically transfigured by some unknown means. Poor Irene, distraught at the idea of losing her husband like how she lost the precious wedding ring. She rubbed her hands as Tychon questioned her and while the city guards searched around by her permission. “Where was he last seen?” “Did you notice something strange in his behavior?” All were perfectly reasonable questions. But the more he perused, the more she rubbed the fleshly indent on her finger.
The half-orch, half-elf man couldn’t find anything particularly out of order right away, but the opened wine bottles did inspire a new train of questioning. “Was there anything suspicious he might have consumed by chance?” The flesh blob shifted and breathed. It’s muffled opening softly hissed, as if trying desperately to speak.
“N-No I don’t think so…” She rubbed her hands even more. The fixation of her hands became more apparent. There was a soft yellowish glow to them that only Tychon could see with his magically enchanted eyes. He thought back when he first entered her humble home. The wife’s hands were completely naked.
“Sir?” One of the guards spoke. Tychon turned his head to see him squatting next to the cursed husband. He didn’t even need his magic eyes to see the glowing ring through the bruised mass of flesh.
Tychon walked over. So, he did consume something. He turned back to the wife who continued rubbing her fingers. Connecting the dots, he asked the pressing question, “What happened to your ring?” The other guards immediately turned their attention onto her from the revelation.
Irene’s eyes widened, and turned her head away to avoid contact, “I… uh…” she gritted her teeth. Guilt. Shame. Tychon concluded. It’s coming together now. The husband’s stress spilled over into the home. An argument ensued. Inebriated, the man swallowed the enchanted wedding ring that was hidden within his meal, and promptly turning his body into this wicked form. Tychon was thankful for his life path in this moment. A focus on his career and to be of great service to his countrymen was leagues ideal to spousal drama. It’s a noble profession, and sometimes proved to be a healthy outlet for his orcish genes. Not like he was suited for relationships, especially in his youth when his orcish features were more prominent, scaring away women he once fell for.
Jaymond positioned himself behind the halfling woman, picking up the queue of her impending guilt. “Ma’am. Please tell us everything. We don’t want to make this difficult.” The remaining guards came to assist. Surely this tiny halfling wouldn’t be stubborn to fight back.
She gazed around, sensing the tension and the accusation. There was no room to run. Her eyes tilted up towards the intimidating half-orc, half-elven man as he judged her with his arms folded. Alas, she released a sigh. “We got into an argument, but it’s not what you think I swear!” She hesitated to continue, with a hint of embarrassment in her tone. “I… don’t know what got into him, but he leapt across the table, grabbed my hand and tore the bloody ring off me! I demanded him to give it back, and he just…swallowed it!” A lie? An odd one at best. Tychon investigated the table once more. A struggle was evident with the grease and juices of bison plastered all over the floor, along with a shattered wine glass. Upon closer inspection, he saw a scrape mark left on the table which was likely fresh. The chair that he allegedly sat on was knocked over too, potentially a frantic act. A few bits of evidence alluded her sincerity.
Tychon recalled his questioning:
“Where does he work?”
“At Melgore’s Armory, in the Lance District. He works as an enchanter.”
An enchanter huh? If that’s true, maybe he noticed something off about her ring, and instinctually saved her. Perhaps marriage isn’t as ignoble as he initially thought. Irene’s husband saving her is akin to Tychon saving an innocent life from a murderous sorcerer. A bond of flesh and spirit are as tight as a bond between a civil servant and the citizenry he sworn to protect. That wedding ring was no different than the pronged badge he held.
In the end, the Priests of Yul will bring the truth to light, and perhaps save the husband of his affliction, and the wife of her guilt, thanks to their divine magics. Maybe they could save Tychon someday, from a fate of loneliness. His duty to the king overshadowed many aspects of his life, especially his relationships. Work and toil were prime nutrients in his orc blood. But as the years went by, he worried less of his ugly features, as the elven blood in him slowly forged an elegance in his face. He now humors the thought of marriage, thanks to his elven superior at the Mage Hunters guild. The thoughts still irked him, burning an air of resentment towards women who devalued him in his youth. Will I ever see a happy marriage, and a loyal spouse like this husband, ideally? Through the ring, Irene and her husband served each other. But with the badge, Tychon served his King. How can one serve two masters?
That sounds exciting and like a fun read. I would enjoy reading more of your work. My stories tend to stay in the current world, but it is fun to journey to other places as well.