JACK - ANTHOLOGY OF A YOUNG WIZARD 13: God, Death and Justice

Where is that prune? asks the man in the doorway. The Lady comes to meet with him. What do you two want with him? she asks. We have to talk and settle something. My friend will wait here so nothing will get a rise in here, he explains as he takes another step inside the tavern. Please let this be something minor, I think as I look to see other people’s reactions. God throw some brains or stone from heaven, hopefully something hits, she says as she turns to call for Wolfel. Lady, how many times have I got to tell you that there can be no people coming in to get lodging until after lunch. It’s still lunch. Let me do my business, screams Wolfel from somewhere in the back. There is someone looking for you, screams the Lady back. No wonder William sent us to talk to him. He seems thicker in the head, says the man. He has to wait then. I ain’t done here, says Wolfel. I am gonna go drag him out by his feet, says the man outside. Keep your wits about. William sent us to talk some sense into him not just kill him over the matter, says the man inside. Well, I think death may be upon him, I think as I leave my spoon down. What did he do now? asks the Lady. Oh no, don’t ask him that, I think as try to turn my back to the situation. He got in some quarrel with William de Cornwell a few nights ago. The details I know not, but I know William wants him to apologize, says the man. You speak nicely for someone with no home, says the Lady. It’s all God’s words I am using, says the man. Which church you going to? she asks. The church at Greyfriars, I usually go when William is doing service, explains the man. Great, if he finds out I'm a wizard, they’ll lynch me too, I think as I listen to their conversation.

Wolfel do not make these men wait in vein here, the Lady shouts. I am going to be there in a bit. Let a man have some dignity, he shouts back. The apprentice John now seems perturbed by the noise and puts down his book. And your friend? The same as you, a church goer? asks the Lady. Indeed, we both visit the same church, it is how we met. He is a fine lad, always able to land a hand when in need. Of course being the servant of William de Sandal does help, now doesn’t it, William de Taverner? asks the man as he chuckles. And what is your name, if you do not mine me asking, says the woman. John de Oxon, nice to meet you, says John. Good heavens thank you he gave out their names, let us hope their smart enough not to do something tragically stupid now, I think as don’t know what to do with myself. How did you know that I had no home? asks John de Oxon. In my line of work, you see all kind of people. And I have seen your kind before. There are signs that tell, she says. Who are you? asks Wolfel. Look whose face decided to be respectful and show his face, says the Lady as she leaves. So you are Jonh Wolfel, as I John myself I am disappointed in you, says John de Oxon. What do you want disappointed John? asks Wolfel. I want you to apologize, says de Oxon. Apologize for what? Taking a fat shit? asks Wolfel. You are disgusting. That is not what I am talking to you. It’s what you did and said to William de Cornwell, explains de Oxon. And who are you to him? asks Wolfel. I was sent here to get your sense together and do the right thing, apologize, says de Oxon. If I have sinned to someone God may judge me when I die, says Wolfel. Or you can just apologize, says de Oxon.

Ain’t words going through his head. So maybe I should make a new hole for the words to get into his head, says William de Taverner. Who are you? And what’s your problem? asks Wolfel. My problem is your thick birch skull if you do not come to apologize, says de Taverner as he draws his sword. Now hold your horses, says John de Glemham. Why’s there always someone trying to be a hero, I think as I lay my head in the palm of my hands. John Wolfel starts to scream and shout as he is held in place by de Oxon. Stop screaming or I will give you something to scream about, says de Taverner. As I said, calm down you two, says John. I am calm, respond both de Oxen and de Taverner. I am being attack! cries out Wolfel. Will you shut up! screams de Taverner in Wolfel’s face. People gather at the entrance of the tavern looking in curiously. I hate this town, I whisper as I look in horror at the four. Help! Help! Wolfel keeps on screaming. Just apologize! insists de Oxen. Let him and he’ll apologize, says John de Glemham as he puts his hand on de Oxen. You stay out of this, says de Taverner. Don’t do something you might regret, says de Glemham. All you shut up! I want him to come apologize and that’s the end of it, says de Oxen. That’s not how you get anyone to apologize, says de Glemham. You get back if you know what is good for you, says de Taverner as he swings his sword at de Glemham. John Wolfel faints as de Oxen let’s go of him. What have you done, you maniac! I told you not to bring that with you, says de Oxen. With a bloody face and a gash on his forehead John de Glemham staggers slowly back as he falls onto a bench. The crowd that gathered outside the door barges in jumping and holding de Taverner down. Why does this feel like a deja-vu? I ask myself as I see de Oxen flee the tavern.

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JACK - ANTHOLOGY OF A YOUNG WIZARD 12: Escape from Hell

We got the murderers! says a Watchman. Where are they? asks the Sheriff. They at the church at Greyfriars. It seems they confessed to the coroner and sheriffs there. Though they refuse to give themselves up, says the Watchman. Where are the jurors? asks the Sheriff. They at Alice’s place. Looking for the man, explains the Watchman. But who raised a hue to catch them? asks the Sheriff. It was a priest, William. He said he saw what happened and followed them after they ran out of here at the church at Greyfriars, said the Watchman. Shall I go assist with the arrest? asks the Sheriff. I don’t know. They are in the church and there’s three sheriffs there and a handful of watchmen, explains the Watchman. Good, then my services aren’t needed there, says the Sheriff. Wizard, wizard, Dirk pulls on me while whispering. Glad you’re back with us. They got the murderers, I tell him. What? I do not care about that anymore. How does fire not burn? he asks. Told you, magic fire is different from normal fire. It can’t harm living things, I explain. But that don’t make any sense, he says. What happened to your vocabulary? I ask. Listen here, you just change my whole life, I will use whatever word comes first to mind, now explain yourself, insists Dirk. Everyone has magic in them, like a blessing. Grass, animals, humans, birds, bees, fish, you name it, it has magic. And magic can’t destroy or harm magic. It can manipulate it to create fire, water, a block of dirt or to lift rocks, trees, houses and castles, if you’re strong enough. But, if you take two rocks and smash them, they break. Meaning magic can’t help if by nature you are dying or are able to decompose or deconstruct yourself, I explain. Wizard, you are coming with me, I hear the Sheriff yell.

Wait, no. Explain more, please, says Dirk. Sorry, but I do not want any trouble and if I remain one more second here, I think I’ll be dead meat, I tell him as I quickly leave the dungeon. I almost forgot why I even came here, says the Sheriff. Why did you have to yell that? Are you insane? I ask him. Well, it does not matter much. Since you are coming with me, says the Sheriff. Fine. Where and why? I ask. Outside. You are leaving this place. The jurors found that the man alive before dying and he left word that it was a priest. Richard Dicount is his name, you might have met him at Stephen’s Inn, says the Sheriff as we leave the prison. Then why did you bring me here? I ask. Had no other choice. You were there and you fit the perfect criteria, he explains. What do you mean you had no choice? I ask while throwing my arms up. The judge had slept until like an hour ago and the jury went to ask around, see if they can find any other witnesses. And I had to take someone in. It just happened to be you. And as it happens, the jurors couldn’t find any other witnesses. But it is beyond any shadow of a doubt that it is that Richard priest the killer. So, now you are free, he explains. But now people think I killed a man, I bemoan. Well, since you are free, they might realize that you are not guilty, he says. I have a suspicion that they won’t, I tell him. Well, whatever it will be, you will have to figure it out, he says as he gets in his carriage and leaves. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I ask myself as I am stranded before the prison.

Something to eat maybe. Hadn’t had the chance at food yet. They brought me in after breakfast and took me our five hours later before lunch, I talk to myself as I make a right hoping that I’ll find a tavern. As I walk down the street, as it would have it the smell of food hits my nose. I look to the left of me to see a tavern. I enter the smell of onion hits my face and my stomach starts to grumble. As I got sit at a table near the window, the only other four patrons there are sitting silently waiting for their food while either drinking their ale or sitting in silence. There is one young man reading a book, the first one I’ve seen reading anything here. Finally some peace, I think as I sit down. What is it you want? asks a burly lady. Do you have whiskey? I ask. Of course, these monks bring some great whiskey from the scots. What about food? she asks. Some pottage and a couple of slice of bread, I ask the nice lady. A fine choice. I’ll bring you the whiskey in a moment, says the lady. I have yet to understand why you wanted me here, Master, I ask as I look out the window to see the Bald man. Here’s your drink, says the lady. Thank you. Can I ask who that young fellow that is reading is? I ask. John de Glenham, apprentice of law at King’s Bench. He comes here to read and visit the prison every week, she explains. I thank her again as she leaves. Here ye, here ye! We’re here for John Wolfel, the helpful innkeeper of this here inn! shouts someone as they enter. Oh no… I sigh again.

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Kaiju: A World of Giants - The Pilot Program 2022

Would it be better if you weren’t born in the first place? she asks. Yes, absolutely! This is a nightmare. I live in a country whose giant monster is a dog-headed bat that lives in a black sea that is actually blood. The neighboring country has a giant black crow that spews green bile acid and in that other half of the world there’s a giant plasma breathing lizard. And I don’t know if you noticed, mom, but we live mostly underground out of fear of those giant creatures. I’d love to see the sun sometimes, you know? I ask as I take my leave. My watch rings and I answer it. Where are you going? asks Tomiris. Out. I am tired of this, I respond. Cinane, please don’t. You know what happened last time. You need to find some other way to vent your frustrations than running head first into danger, says Tomiris. And what exactly should I do? I did the survival thing, I did self-defense, I even wanted to try the military and they wouldn’t let me join. And I can’t leave this place, since my life has been predetermined ever since they knew my gender. And if I get out of line, I’ll just get punished, which you know it’s bullshit, I keep ranting. Have you tried knitting? she asks while laughing. You know I can’t stay in one place for too long, I tell her. Please Cinane, don’t make us more problems, she says. I’m not making you any problems, I lash back as the call stops abruptly. The earth begins to shake, a screeching roar is heard thundering the earth and skies.

The alarm starts blasting throughout the city. Beware of the giant Please evacuate the surface area and retreat underground! The alarm system blasts and repeats itself as the ground shakes with each step the giant takes. It shouldn’t be so inland, I tell myself as I look at people calmly coming down from the above areas talking and going about their day like nothing is happening. I can’t believe that these assholes got so used to live underground for thousands of years that they treat this so lightly, I tell myself as I start going the opposite direction of the crowd. Where are you going? someone stops to ask me. I forgot something a level up, I respond. It’s dangerous, he says as he turns and leaves like it’s none of his business anymore. What a weirdo, I tell myself as I go up the stairs. Something must be wrong for it to be here, says a man dressed weirdly. Maybe it feels threatened by the neighboring kaiju, says a man dressed in a nice suit. Why would it be? asks the weirdly dressed man. I don’t know, I’m not a scientist, you are. You tell me what is it doing here, says the man in the suit. I don’t know yet. We have yet to interpret its cries. And unlike a certain empire we’re friends with, we have not started yet experimenting trying to have biometric tech on it, says the scientist. And why not? asks the man in the suit. I am not going to say anything, because I do value my job here, says the scientist. Fine, do as you please, but figure this out, says the man in the suit as he leaves.

What’s going on here? I ask myself in a whisper. I start running trying to get past the scientist. Wait! Where are you going? he asks in a panicked tone. Up! I respond as I run past him. No, you’re not, he says as he catches me by the hand. Shouldn’t someone as handsome as you be doing something else then catching ladies in distress trying to escape their hellish lives? I ask in a sarcastic tone. No, I don’t wish to be an accomplice to a suicide, if you don’t mind, he responds. I do mind, I tell him as I try to yank my hand out of his grip. Where do you want to go? he asks. Out. I want to see it. I want to see the proper outside world. I don’t want the life they chose for me, I tell the scientist. And you think dying out there is a better alternative? he asks. Yes, but I won’t be dying. I did train to survive, I do know self-defense and one of my idols is Belane, the woman that roamed the four continents alone. So, I’ll think I’ll be fine, I tell the scientist. His face turns sour after hearing what I had to say. Listen. You do not know what is out there. We have discovered but 5% of what this planet has to offer. There are things out there might out of stuff of nightmares. Why do you think in two hundred thousand years no man left the tunnels and caves we live in? We’ve been sending drones to gather stuff for us, they brought back unimaginable things. I have no idea what’s out there and I work for a living studying the out there. You’ll suffer a faith worse than death, he says. Then that’s why I’m going, I tell him as I take his arm off mine. At least let me come with you, he says. I smile as I let go off his hand. Sure thing, I say with a smile as the ceiling of the cave crumbles near us and the dog headed bat screeches shaking the earth beneath us.

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JACK - ANTHOLOGY OF A YOUNG WIZARD 11: A MATTER OF MIND AND MAGIC IN HELL

Another day, another murder for the infamous Jack The Ripper, says the Sheriff jokingly. What do you mean? asks Dunk. I suppose he didn’t have time to tell you. He’s been in this city for less than 36 hours and he saw a many murders. But the first one was a woman getting stabbed with a ripper, explains the Sheriff. What? How? asks Dunk. Long story, I try to brush it off. What do you know about the murder? asks the Sheriff. They were four blokes. Clit, Dick, Harry and John, I think were their names. They came to kill the guard Nicholas and to break out the husband of Amalia, I explain to the Sheriff. You’re taking the piss, right? A hairy dick named John and a clit? Who even is Clit? A cat? asks the Sheriff looking at me in disbelief. No, you’re wrong, says Dunk. What do you mean? I ask. Their names were Clitheroe, Robert, John and Henry. The guy they broke out was the husband of Alice, not Amelia. How are you this bad with names? asks Dunk. I was focused on not having anyone else die. Especially someone that was feeling rather suicidal, I nudge Dunk. Really? What’s my name then? Dunk asks. It’s Dunk, I reply. What kind of horseshit name is that? asks Dunk. Then what is it? I ask. It’s Dirk, he says. So what else can you two love birds tell me? asks the Sheriff. It happened during the shift change, says Dirk. That means that they had to know when that change happened, somehow, says the Sheriff. Most probably, says Dirk.

One last thing. Can you show me the four through some magic? asks the Sheriff. I can’t. The only way to do that is to somehow turn back time. And I do not have that type of god-like power, I explain to him. Then can you describe them to me? he asks. I am sorry. I barely remembered their names, I don’t know if I’ll be able to describe them well, I explained to the Sheriff. I don’t know how you weren’t jailed earlier or even executed, says the Sheriff. Clitheroe was rather tall, but not skinny, not well built either. Had a big nose and a big lower lip, a bloody knife in his left hand and he had brown eyes. John was smaller than Clitheroe, but with the same build as him. He was also square faced, tiny lipped, eyes far apart, you can’t really mistake him for another being. Henry was the fattest of the four and only a bit taller than John. And Robert was plainer than a potato, says Dirk. Can you give me a bit more details about Robert? asks the Sheriff. I would, but I barely remember him, says Dirk. What of the man they got out of this place? asks the Sheriff. He was a monster of a man, tall as Clitheroe, fat as Henry and kept saying ‘aye’, says Dirk. Well, let us hope we can find these five and whoever else helped them. I will let the jury and the judge know of your help, says the Sheriff. Thank you, I tell the Sheriff. So you have a friend with the law, says Dirk smiling. I sure do hope it’s a friend, I say as I look around at the people still staring at me.

So, you’re a magician, huh? asks Dirk. No. I am not a magician, I tell Dirk. What’s the difference? I thought it’s the same devilish curse with a different name for different regions, says Dirk. Why are you so well spoken? I ask without even thinking. I had an uncle that was a priest, may God bless his soul. He thought us to read a bit and how to speak proper, says Dirk. I am sorry for your loss, I tell him. It is fine. So, do tell me, what’s the difference? asks Dirk again. It’s the specializations. That’s the only difference. Magicians deal with the magic of light, that’s why their good at doing tricks that deceive the eyes. Witches control the magic of the night and dark. Wizards, like me, do a bit of everything. We’re historians of some sort. Preserving all types of magic. My master used to call me a Jack of all trades and a master of none, I tell Dirk. Those are the only differences? asks Dirk with child wonder in his eyes. No, those were just a couple of examples, I tell Dirk. Fascinating. I never knew. Our uncle always told us that after the war with magicians we are not to trust your kind. Since you have the power of the devil on your side, says Dirk. Let me show you something, I tell Dirk. I take his hand, turn towards the wall with my back towards the dungeon as I didn’t want them to see what I was about to do. Hold still and trust me, I tell Dirk. I light a fire at the tip of my finger and push it against his hand. See? Magic fire does not burn you. If we were what your uncle said we were, shouldn’t we burn human flesh? I ask him. He stands there dumbfounded looking at me. We got them! we hear someone exclaim excitedly.

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JACK - ANTHOLOGY OF A YOUNG WIZARD 10: A Place Worse Than Hell

What? Why would I die? asks Dunk. I just have a bad feeling, I tell him. Listen, no one wants to be here. No sane man would attack someone that leaves this place out of fear of a fate worse than death… More time here, explains Dunk. I turn my gaze towards the hallway to see the guards leaving. Where are they going? I ask. Must be a shift change and almost time for lunch, says Dunk. But what if someone tries to escape? I ask. You can’t leave this place unless someone let’s you from outside, explains Dunk. And if you tried magic, the rest would kill you, I think to myself. For a wizard I really didn’t do myself any favors thus far in London, now did I? I barely used any magic. I don’t know what master thought I’d learn here, when I can’t even practice. If I start chanting or trying to replenish any of my mana, they’d think I’m some sort of heretic and they’d hang me, I continued pondering my circumstances. By the way, says Dunk whispering, if you have money, there’s a bar underneath the front gate where you can spend your most time pissed drunk. You can also make some important friends there, if you wanted, says Dunk. I smile back at him. I don’t, I try to tell him. You don’t what? he asks. I don’t know if I want to or care to risk making any friends, I tell him. But I’m your friend, he says as someone with a bloody knife steps into the dungeon.

I am Clitheroe, this is John, Robert and he is Henry, we are here for a certain someone, a husband to a darling Alice who provided us with these here knives, says Clitheroe. Aye, that’s me, says the man next to us. Good news then. Nicholas is dead and you are free to leave, says Clitheroe. Aye. Hope the wife paid you well, says the man in question. She was more than generous, says Clitheroe. We should do something, says Dunk. No, look at his knife, it’s bloody. They already killed a man. Stay still as a statue unless you want to die, I tell Dunk. But if we don’t do anything, says Dunk. If we don’t do anything, they leave and we live. We can’t bring that Nicholas back to life, I try to explain to Dunk. Oh, and a little ba… bird, let us so call it told me that this fellow there is a wizard, says Clitheroe as he points his bloody knife at me. The whole room turns their gaze towards me. The five knock on the door. Let us out, Clitheroe is heard saying. We hear the door open and a woman starts screaming. And we hear the door shut as they start running. The woman hues, cries and wails as the guards rush from their rooms confused at the noise. The woman stops her screams once a guard comes to comfort her. What in the devil’s… says the Guard. We hear the door open and the rest of the guards pouring out. Every other felon in the prison sits as still as a mountain and as mute as a stone, trying to listen to the commotion and out of fear of the guards lashing out towards us. What happened? asks one of the guards the other that opened the door. I don’t know, I was just doing my business by the wall as usual. And when I came back, I saw this woman crying and howling and saw Nicholas dead, explains the Guard. Gather me a jury and go fetch the Sheriff and the Coroner, said the Director.

No one is to leave this prison until the jury and the Sheriff say so! screams the Director as he waves with his hands the guards back to work. Silence fills the air as the guards took their place and the wait for the Sheriff, Coroner and jury started. Eyes began to slowly turn back towards me from all corners of the dungeon. Are you really a wizard? Dunk asks in a quiet hush. What? No. He’s a murderer and probably a liar. I have never seen a wizard in my life. Have you? I ask Dunk. No. Not that I can recall ever seeing one, says Dunk. See? So, how could I be a wizard then? I ask awkwardly. Everyone hear me, the killer lied, he is not a wizard. Do not trust the words of the murderer, Dunk starts shouting as he sits atop his bed. I tug on his shirt trying to get him down and to shut up as even the guards start looking at us. Everything will be fine, says Dunk with a smile on his face. I will die here because of you and I promise, I will take you with me if you say anything else, I tell Dunk. Oh, I would not worry that much about it. Who knows, maybe you will come with me tomorrow, says Dunk. To hell, maybe, I say as I hear a guard announce that the Sheriff arrived. I did not think I’d be coming back so soon, says the Sheriff. We are terribly sorry to have you back so quickly, says the Director. Have you questioned the felons? asks the Sheriff. No, we were waiting for you. Another witness was also this woman here that was found crying outside the prison, says the Director. I will start the questioning, says the Sheriff. I hate my life, I say as I see he come towards me with a wicked smile.

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JACK - ANTHOLOGY OF A YOUNG WIZARD 9: A MARCH THROUGH HELL

Make way, make way! shouts the Sheriff to the people. Serves you right, you devil! Spouts Richard. The Bald man behind him laughing and Arcus smiling as I get into the carriage. Wizard, you have to be very careful with what you say. With what you do. With the person you are going to befriend in there, because we put everyone in the same room, unless they are the most abhorrent of god’s creatures, says the Sheriff. What about magic? I ask. I would not recommend you try it. You are going to be killed. Either by prisoners or by the guards. For every one felon, there are at least two guards, if not three. And each of them has either a crossbow or a simple bow to take aim at you. Most prisoners do not take lightly to the devil or your kind there, explains the Sheriff. A shiver goes down my spine as he finishes his explanation. Before I forget, you have to survive until we find the killer or until he comes to us, says the Sheriff. That means that you don’t know for how long I’ll be in this place, I sigh. That is the reality of the situation. Searches can take a while and considering that since this new prison’s been built there have been over sixty murders already, we have our hands full, says the Sheriff. But that’s more than a murder a week, I say as we arrive at Newgate. Something of the sort, yes, says the Sheriff as he opens the door to the carriage.

As I get down from the carriage I can’t help but be amazed looking at the giant gate of the prison. A guard comes with chains in his hands. What are those for? I ask. Your legs, responds the Sheriff. I almost forgot, do something about that hair of yours. Maybe shave it off. You are going to get lice most probably, says the Sheriff as he leaves me in the care of one of the guards. Get your arse moving. Use those legs of yours if you don’t want me to break them, says the Guard as he pushes me trough the front gate. We enter the Keeper’s House. There the guard tells the Keeper my name and the reason I am there, luckily the Sheriff forgot to mention that I was a Wizard, yet the Keeper still had a look of disgust as he wrote down suspicion of murder. As we’re about to leave I hear the Keeper mutter something under his breath. You’d wish you were burning in hell, muttered the Keeper with a wicked smile on his face. To the left, can’t you hear? asks the Guard as he slaps me over the head. Don’t stand in my way, if ya don’t want me to shit in your boots, screams a woman at us as she comes running. We both make way as a pungent smell hits our noses. Follow her, says the guard. As we go after her, she reaches the latrines. There are your latrines. There’s only one for all of you. And further down is the dungeon, hope you’ll find a place to sleep on that is not pissed on or isn’t smelling of shit, says the Guard as he smiles and gestures to me to go on.

Just as I step into the dungeon dragging the chains with me, a stark smell of death hits my nose. Two small windows on either side of the dungeon gave away a bit of light and air. Yet the floor was dirty, the beds looked rugged, and the people were discontent, bruised, tired and most, with nothing left behind their eyes. Those few with hope, were those that were supposed to be here for up to forty days. The rest, were waiting to die or be executed. The Sheriff did not lie, there were two guards for every felon, they stood from the entrance to the dungeon to the exit from the prison waiting for anyone to don anything dumb or dangerous. You could hear them behind one of the walls talking and laughing as the reminisced about beating felons or seeing who killed in what way. It felt like it was all entertainment. Before my eyes could pick out a bed to sleep on, a man waves his hands as to call me over. I look around amazed how no one really pays attention to me, besides that one man. You are new, come… Sit. That bed is empty, if you want it, says the Man. A few wooden planks thrown together with hay on it and some fabric over it. At least it’s not the floor, I say to myself. I am Dunk, I’ll leave this place tomorrow morning. My forty days will be over, says Dunk with a smile. Good on you, what were you in here for? I ask. I stole some food to feed my nephews. Their father died and they did have no one but their poor mother who can only do so much, explains Dunk. Oh no, you’re not gonna make it alive out of here, I exclaim…

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JACK - ANTHOLOGY OF A YOUNG WIZARD 8: Guilty until proven Innocent

What? Why oh no? asks Arcus. I’ve seen that man two times in the last 12 hours. People are going to start thinking bad stuff if they see me again here, I have to go, I try to explain to the two. See? Told you this wizard is bad news, Arcus tells Stephen as he tugs on his shirt. What happened? asks Stephen. As I explain to them the events of the previous night they look at me in shock. You are not going anywhere until the Sheriff arrives. Told you, Stephen. This man is the personification of bad luck and death. I smelled it on you, says Arcus. Is it your first time here in London? asks Stephen. Yes. So please understand, I do not want anymore trouble. I do not wish to see the Sheriff or Gravesend, for that matter, I try to explain to the two. Why would you want any trouble? If you did nothing wrong, why would you fear the Sheriff? You must feel guilty. I did not think devilish creatures like you could feel guilt, says Arcus. He is right. If you run now. They’ll come for you. If you hide now, they’ll see you as they want. A guilty, devilish, killing little monster that ran away. Is that what you want to be seen as? asks Stephen. No, but nor do I want to be stuck with the belief that where I walk, I bring death and bad luck. You must know best how that feels, I tell Stephen as the Sheriff enters the door.

Good day, sir, says the Sheriff before looking up as he opens the door. Good day, replies Stephen. I am… Oh, wizard. Found you where I sent you, says the Sheriff. Wait, you sent him here? asks Stephen. Indeed. But that’s not why I am here today. But, I suppose you heard the rumors already. We’re here because Tomas de Rede was killed with a knife. He was a servant of Richard de Tonge, a clerk of St. Martin’s Le Grand church. From what the jury had found and from what John de Braye had told us, there was a quarrel outside his house last night. Though John had not seen anyone but the victim, thus we are looking for someone that might have taken shelter here last night, says the Sheriff. Weren’t you saying that he was found dead in his room? Stephen asks Arcus. It’s what I heard from someone who said they were friends with a juror, explains Arcus. From what I understand, Richard de Tonge used to come here quite often before you got you ill famed name. So I am here to ask on behalf of the jury if you know anything. And who besides the wizard took shelter here last night? asks the Sheriff. I haven’t seen him since then. He even avoids looking at me when I pass him down the street. But by now, I got used to it. Why I ask Arcus to help me with stuff when it comes to errands, explains Stephen before being interrupted. It was just him, the wizard. It was probably he who killed the poor fella and then came running here after he was found innocent, Arcus accuses me.

Is that so? asks the Sheriff. No. There was one other. A priest. Well, he looked a bit more like a monk. He held his head down. His hands weren’t showing. He paid, slept and early morning left, said Stephen. Do you know where he went? asks the Sheriff. I can’t help you with that, says Stephen. So we are looking again at you, says the Sheriff as he turns his gaze towards me. This is the worst day of my life, so far, I sigh. You’re right to say so far, says Arcus. So what do you want to do now? asks Stephen. What can I even do? I went from the court, to here. I seen no one. I heard nothing. No one saw me until I entered this place, I explain. Well, unless you can find us that priest they’ve been talking about. You are sure to be coming with me to the court house once more, says the Sheriff. What? Do not let him leave this place! in an outrage says Arcus. Do not worry. The only place he will be leaving is with me, says the Sheriff. The door to the inn flings open. See? Told you that the wizard was at fault! Exclaims Richard the Watchman. The Bald man behind him starts laughing. Why is this happening? I ask myself. Wizard, you are coming with me. You are to be confined in prison until the trial, later today, says the Sheriff. A crowd has gathered outside the Inn. Burn him! Burn him! Burn him! the crowd chants with Richard and the Bald man in charge. I start to think that master was wrong. There’s not much to learn from here, I tell myself as I go to jail innocent.

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RanKing - The Pilot Program 2022

My parents! My parent’s parents fought for me to be your king! I have fought to be your king! My birthmark shows it, their birthmark showed it. We are born with our destinies on our backs! We are made to fulfill our destinies! And there is no shame whether you’re upper rank, lower rank, a worker, a cook or a dish washer! My great great great grandfather was sweeping the streets, anyone can meet their destiny. I memorized his whole speech, says Edwin. And thus the golden age began, says Dante. Exactly! Rancore, the strongest man to have ever lived had managed to bring peace to a world at war. A world without a strongest contender, says Edwin. My guy, we know. We have heard it so many times coming from your mouth. I wasn’t encouraging you, I was just showing you that we know what your next word is going to be, says Dante. Do you think he had some kind of magic? It was a few hundred years ago when he managed to roam the world to bring it to its knees, says Edwin. I don’t know. Are our birthmarks magic? asks Dante. They’re not magic, says Arthur. Then what is it? asks Dante. It’s genetics. Each person has it’s DNA, that DNA leaves an imprint in the skin. It’s that simple, says Arthur. Then how do you explain the symbols? That’s a language, right? It has to be something special? asks Edwin. It’s you. It’s your noggin. It’s how your DNA reacts to your brain impulses. Read a book, you two, says Arthur as he leaves. Always the smart one, says Dante.

What do you think his ranking is? asks Edwin. I don’t know. Never asked him. He looks average, says Dante. And you don’t? asks Edwin. Listen, I’m in top 5 strongest and I’ll probably get in top 4 soon enough, says Dante. Yeah, top 5 billion, maybe. We’re still teens, there are so many people that could simply crush us like we’re watermelons, says Edwin with a grim look on his face. Ever the courageous man, aren’t you? asks Dante. Take a seat everyone, says the teacher as he enters the classroom. Oh right, history. Great, says Dante as he takes a seat. Today we’re gonna continue on with our lesson on armed conflicts. As you know, weapons aren’t really used, since they’re quite often useless against the higher ranks. So when we are talking armed conflicts, we do mean literal armed conflicts. Massive conflicts between people and their bare hands. And we have detailed stories of many of our ancestors battles along the years before the golden age Rancore brought with his might. So today we are going to talk about a few of those armed conflicts before and after the golden age, says the teacher. Edwin raises his hand. Yes, Edwin? asks the teacher. Why were there conflicts after the golden age? asks Edwin. Because Rancore was told to have had many children. Which only sparked a lot of conflict. Sadly not much is known since he was a very private man, says the teacher.

But that doesn’t make sense. What about his birthmarks? Couldn’t they have looked at that? asks Edwin. No. Rancore was never really seen in a state of undress. He was mostly alone during his travels. And after his conquest he never really bothered with politics, leaving these decisions to the people. So he was less seen once the golden age began. Even so, the most we have are pictures after descriptions people had of him. A big smile, a glorious moustache that couldn’t be rivaled. Kind eyes yet a fierce looking body that would make him feel menacing. But that’s the extent of his description from our history, says the history teacher as the classroom door is kicked down. Everyone stay calm, says a man with a black beard. We’re here for Arthur, the young man of legends, he says as he puts his goons to detain the class. The teacher raises his fists, and so are the rest of the students. Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you guys, says the bearded man. The teacher jumps to punch one of the goons, only to get knocked down and break the his table. The rest of the student body jumps to Arthur’s defense only to get easily pushed and kicked back down. Told you. Now, Arthur, we can do this the easy way… Or the hard way. But either way, you are coming with me to do what your great great grandfather did before you and bring a new golden age.

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JACK - ANTHOLOGY OF A YOUNG WIZARD 7: HISTORY AND HIS STORY

You do not listen to me anymore. I am your friend, Stephen. You can't let his ilk be seen here. What are people going to think? How are you ever going to have people staying here when there's the devil's child here? asks Arcus. But we need the money, says Stephen. Yes, but not his money. You are just going to bring even more hate on you if they found out you are harboring a wizard, says Arcus. Fine, please keep your voice low. He'll hear you, Stephen replies. Ah, let him hear me. I'm not afraid of his devilish tricks. So please, Stephen, listen to me. I am your friend and want your best. It's why I come here to help you, says Arcus. I thought you came here for backgammon and booze, says Stephen jokingly. I thought you knew me better, says Arcus. I was just jesting. You don't have to leave, says Stephen. See you next time, says Arcus. Excuse me, says someone. Welcome, father. How can I help? asks Stephen. Father? A priest, here? I ask myself as I change into my night gown. I need a room for the night. I'll be leaving in the morning. I won't be bothering you too much, says the Priest. Of course. We do have a room free for you, says Stephen. Here, this should be enough for the night, says the Priest. You're too kind. As just it happened we also have a wizard staying here tonight. Who knew God would bring you here tonight, says Stephen. Funny. Very funny, says the Priest. It was not a joke, says Stephen. I understand. Good night, says the Priest in a hurry. Such a weird fellow, says Stephen. Weird indeed, I think to myself as I put myself to bed.

Go to London, my boy. It is the most populated place and you'll see all sorts of people. You'll learn a lot, says Master. But how will that help with my magic? I ask him. Oh dear, do not worry. You're a wizard after all. You can do a little bit of everything, says the Master. Why aren't we wizards specialized like the others? I ask. Because someone has to pass the knowledge down throughout history. If sorcerers die out in flames, we'll have to preach the magic of fire to the next generation and grow a new batch of sorcerers. That's why we learn a bit of magic from witches, a bit from druids, magicians, mages, warlocks, necromancers, sorcerers, witches and enchantresses. If one is hunted down and burnt to the ground, we can rebuild it. And I taught you everything I knew to teach. If you want to learn more, you'll have to get out there and find them and learn from them. But to do that, you must learn to live in reality, boy. You've lived an easy life until today and there's much more out there than what you just witnessed here, says Master. But it does not have any sense for me to do that. We are persecuted, hunted in some places and burned at stake. Why would I want to adventure out there? I ask. Because that's how you'll learn. It is our punishment for the greed we had in our hearts brought us here, boy. If we want that to change we need to atone for our greed and learn to be responsible for our powers and judgement. Now sleep, tomorrow you'll have a long journey ahead of you, says Master.

What a weird dream to have a part of yesterday replay in my head like that. It seems London did get under my skin, I tell myself as I wake up with a hunger in my belly. What will I have for breakfast today? I'll have some of that sausage I made before I left, some bread and an apple for some sweetness. Good thing I can travel light and conjure these things up from Master's home, I tell myself as I get dressed. Ah, it seems I was in time to have them cooked, hope Master won't be too annoyed with me for doing this, I once more tell myself proudly. Already leaving? Stephen asks. Yes. Thank you for letting me stay here, says the Priest. Won't you stay for breakfast? Stephen asks. I'm afraid I have to leave quite urgently, says the Priest. I hear footsteps nearing my door. I hear Stephen knocking. Morning, would you like some breakfast? asks Stephen. No, thank you. I am already in the middle of it, I respond. Oh, enjoy. Sorry to bother. Maybe Arcus will join me, says Stephen as he leaves. What is with people here? They seems all to be so miserable, I think to myself as I finish eating. The door to the inn opens. Morning Stephen, did you hear? asks Arcus. Just in time. Come join me for breakfast and tell me what should I have heard, says Stephen. Do you know your friend, Thomas Scot? He rents rooms by the tower, says Arcus. Yes? What happened? asks Stephen. Well, a servant to a priest was found dead in one of his rooms, says Arcus. Really? Do we know him? asks Stephen. We do, know who he was servant to, Richard de Tonge, the Priest that used to come here before the incident. I think the Sheriff will come by here to ask us about him, says Arcus. Oh no, I exclaim as I reach the bottom of the stairs.

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JACK - ANTHOLOGY OF A YOUNG WIZARD 6: DREAMS OR NIGHTMARES

Boy, wait a bit, the Sheriff calls to me. What is it? I ask. The Judge wants to talk to you, says the Sheriff. As I make my way towards him all manner of thoughts rush through my head. Listen here, lad, says the Judge squinting at me. Be wary of what you say or do here in London. We got a keen sense of trouble and we quickly burn anything that is foreign or strange to our noses. Your master probably told you what happened last time a wizard was here. I am not telling you this out of compassion towards your kind, I am telling you this as a warning. I do not wish to see you in my court again if you do not want me to live up to my name, says the Judge as he turns to leave. What’s his name? I ask the Sheriff. It’s Stephen Gravesend, says the Sheriff. Stephen Gravesend, I repeat with shivers going down my spine in terror. Listen, is there an Inn around here? I need some lodging, I ask the Sheriff. There is down the street from the pub we came from, says the Sheriff. Thank you, I tell him as I leave. Just as I get out of the court Richard approaches me. Listen, I am truly sorry for what I said and done. Can you find it in your cold devil heart to forgive me? he asks. No. You must jest, otherwise you wouldn’t simply say what you just said, I brush him off and leave. I was right about your cold dead heart, shouts Richard after me.

As I walk down the dark streets of London, I remind myself to make a bit of light to carry in the palm of my hand. I just hope the Inn won’t be a deadly one, because this start of the journey really isn’t what I thought it would be. And if there’s a lesson to learn here, I don’t really want to learn it, I tell myself as I see the light to the inn. Welcome, welcome in the dead of the night, says the Innkeeper. Thank you, do you have a free room for the night? I ask. They always have free rooms since that one woman died by the bridge, says a man with his back turned towards me. Oh, it is you., the wizard. Not even hours here in London, and you’re already of fame in this part of town, says the Innkeeper. You are not considering letting him stay here after that last one? asks the man angrily. Calm down, Arcus. The man was freed by the notorious Gravesend. Sorry for my friend here, he is a bit in a mood. My name is Stephen, don’t worry not like the judge, I am Stephen of Lynn. My name sounds nicer and it is fun since I am also an Innkeeper. And this is Arcus of Rikelinge, I know, strange name. But he is good company. We do have a free room, as long as you promise not to entice women with your magic, says Stephen with a nervous laugh. Do not worry, magic does not work that way, I try to reassure him. Sure it doesn’t, says Arcus. Do not be intimidated by him, Stephen tells me. Do you want to know the story of the woman that killed herself for a wizard? asks Arcus.

No, not really, I respond. It was the 25th of December a year ago, when Johanna of Charing, a beautiful woman, was found dead. She drowned between the Tower of London and the Hospital of St. Kathrine in the parish of St. Botolph. That beautiful woman was found blue to her face, her skin now slimy and her beauty of a body now round and pudgy from puss and water. The story goes that the jury had found Laurence the Poulter, who had spent the previous night here with her. That night I was here too. It was just me and him the whole night. At some point we started hearing strange noises, a strange language we have not heard before until that night. And we should know. Before his father died and left him the inn, we roamed Europe. So we know some French, some Latin, but we never heard the tongue he spoke. That night before long, we saw her leave this place without any expression on her visage. Like, like… he bewitched her or put her under a spell. And since she died, we keep hearing strange noises in the attic of this inn and rumors spread and soon no one came here no more. All because of that wizard and his tongue, says Arcus. But that Laurence was acquitted after they looked at her body and found it had no wounds on her. Here’s your key, says Stephen. What a fascinating story, I have yet to see a ghost with my own eyes. From what Master told me, they are very rare as they usually travel to the other side unless they die of natural causes and have regrets left. Now excuse me while I go have nightmares of the stories you told, I tell Arcus as I take my leave to go get some sleep. Close that door well if you wanna wake up tomorrow, says Arcus. Well, fuck… I tell myself as I go up the stairs…

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