Sorcerer from Another World

I was appreciating the beauty of this world when I pulled back the animal skin door to my house and was interrupted by the shouting inside. A dispute with the new people or had a monster gotten inside? I rushed inside.   

My people were surrounded by strangers. Pointing her sword straight to the throat a big, hairy looking man with blading, greying hair Morgana held her own. 

The ageing, well dressed man was backed by half a dozen younger looking men and women each carrying hammers or axes.

Morgana was standing next to the cauldron. Iris was covering Tulisa and Byrette behind her back, her staff ready to defend them.

Umbra had a black eye and puffy swelling on her face. They’d hit her. Instant decision making, I chose to deescalate the present danger. 

I walked over to Morgana and the stranger and attempted to split them apart. Before I knew, a hammer smashed into my eye. The iron shattered and the attacker crumbled under a shock of electricity. 

Morgana moved to follow up and cut his head off. 

I raised a hand up and gestured for her to stop. I looked at my attacker, he was still breathing. I touched my eye, but I felt no pain nor did there seem to be any blood or crushed bone. I let out a long sigh and took my measure of the attacker. Then, I turned my head slightly to catch Morgana’s eye. 

“What is going on here?” I asked Morgana.

“They were trying to steal our metal goods. They have taken all the rest from the people of the fort already.” Morgana explained.

The attacker got up during Morgana's explanation. Flushed, he retorted.

“Steal! How dare you, Witch. I’m the eldest blacksmith for as far as the eye can see. You adjust your tone if you expect to live in this fort. Go back to your hovels where you belong.”

“I am sick and tired of men who should be pleading for help threatening those I hold dear.” I said firmly. “Who even are you?”

“I’m Shamus Uncle to Chief Galen and of the Clan Pendragon. We’re the smiths of this fort. The folks you have been tricking over with your strange metal!

I got the feeling from his indigent expression and proud confidence that I was supposed to be impressed. The thing with coming from another world was that the values of this foregin culture held little weight in my mind. I was, however, keen to respect our differences. 

“Why hit Umbra?” I asked with deliberate, forced calm.

“She was boasting in the village of your metal and wouldn’t shut up. I helped her learn the virtue of silence.”

That almost did it. But, I knew Umbra could handle herself. She had likely taken the beating rather than escalate the conflict.  

“Aren’t you family?” I asked Morgana.

His lips peeled back and his face screwed up with visible, visceral disgust, “Do not associate the good name of Galen or Shamus with this Witch.”

I swallowed a surge of rage. I felt a pounding tension at my temples. I was not so eager as to allow him to terrorise my people, hit my lover, steal our stuff and to freely insult another one of my lovers. But, anger was not the solution. 

“How about you tell me what is bothering you?” I asked, showing concern and curiosity.

I knew an act of kindness and rational communication could ease conflict. I had a single talent back on earth. A trifling of empathy.

He leaned in so we were face-to-face, “Leave the metalwork to the Smiths and go cast your spells elsewhere, you dull-witted, sheep fucker!” He screamed.

Then, there were the angry ones. Crushed by life and their impotence they lashed at those they perceived weaker than them. A bully of the humble. I had been on the receiving end of dozens of such shit heads in the past. I took it then, terminated the call or if outside after a drink at the pub I tried to walk away. All my life, I had endured other people and felt in turn they had to endure me. 

At its heart all mental processes were physiological. As a sorcerer who could manipulate flesh it was with a thought that I removed the painful feelings of fear. I stimulated calm and faith in myself all by easing my nervous system, producing a few hormones so I was as stable and content as a person could be. I flushed out the consequences of low self-esteem.

“I meant no harm, nor disrespect to your trade.” I said gently. “But those are my works. Do not avoid the truth. I can make superior metals and goods to your entire family in the time it takes you to light the fire to your furnace. You have attacked me, a friend to your Chief and Nephew and threatened the people of this house and stolen what is not yours.”

His frown deepened, scowling he replied. “Get out of my way. I’m taking it all by right.”

He tried to push past, but I stood in his path, “You will take nothing. Leave and I will be kind enough to forget and forgive your mistakes this night.”

He grabbed me and I zapped him. A blue bolt sprang from the top of my staff and brought him shaking to his knees.

“Ow! Fuck.”

I stared down at the convulsing fool, “Piss off.”

He glared at me as he brought himself upright. “You can’t do that. You’re assaulting a Pendragon. How dare you use a cheap trick! I see your head cut off for this!” He blustered.

“Your Nephew and every person in this fort need me to keep them alive so you all don’t get killed when the Unseelie knocks down your flimsy timber walls. Morgana, you know more about the law than I do. Do you know anything about this?”

She gave me a confused look, but after a moment her expression shifted to clarity.

“No. I know the smith’s have total control over the trade of their goods, they are almost like a kin group of their own. They are respected by all. But I’ve never heard something as absurd as taking another maker’s goods because they were traded in the same town. If he had pulled this on a travelling Smith from a different family he would have been fined to destitution.”   

Shamus seethed. “Another Smith. You smoothed skinned twat, a baby has rougher skin on their hands than you.” he scoffed. “You’ve never worked a day at the forge in your life. You’re a stuck up hedge wizard who has crawled out from their hovel hoping to be the next Merlin. If you know what is best then stop putting on airs and start showing respect to your superiors.”

“Superior!” Iris shouted, her face flushed with fury. “You do not get to question the value of Damian, you insect!”

He glowered. “I’m done. I’ll have you all laden with so many fines for obstruction of our legal rights. I’m taking that metal. Don’t worry Druid, Bomdall will take good care of you after your Witches burn…”

His demands were cut off as a dagger of my own creation stuck point first against one his eyes. I grabbed his throat and choke slammed him to the earth. The air was sucked out of his lungs by the impact. His followers tried to draw weapons, but they stopped having spotted the pointy objects lodged a hair width’s span from their eyes. They found themselves staring death in the face.

It was looking at him now that my eyes tightened. I noticed that he wore even more gold than Galen. The design of his jewellery was beautiful, a trove of treasure back home but he was adorned from face to leg in gaudy excess. Everything about him irked me.

I let him stand up for the third time. He was nothing if not persistent. I punched him in the gut and he folded over pathetically. I wasn’t yet satisfied. A burst of lightning zapped from my fingers and he dropped to the earth shaking with shock. I kicked Shamus in the face many times, until the red dimmed from my vision.

He blinked dumbly. Somehow still conscious.

I put my foot on his chest and pushed.

“You are a blind fool, old man. Dumb as a boot. Your job, nay your life’s purpose is based on shaping metal. Now your hard work is pointless. You could have dipped into despair, or you could have keenly sought to improve yourself. Both would have been respectable. The former you get helped in the latter you ask for it. But no. You decided to threaten the people that I care about. I decided to protect you. What did you show for my mercy? You threatened them! So, no more protection. I’ll let them have you. What would you do with this stupid fool, my treasures?”

Iris stepped to my side, her staff in hand, and lit a fire. The flames crackled and sparked in the palm of her hand. “I’ll roast him alive for his threats. Can I make him swallow the flames, my love?”

“I wouldn’t mind giving him a deathly kiss.” Umbra spat with bitterness. 

Morgana prowled across the room, like a wolf stalking her prey, to stand against my other side. She flipped her hefty claymore and twirled it with ease like a knife. “Let me, my Paragon, I beg of you. He has stained my honour. Can I flay his skin and fashion a belt from it? I could make enough for each of us with the sharpness of your blade.”

Iris' lips curled and she wrinkled her nose. “Yes, whatever you prefer, my love. But you know I will be the one doing all the work.”

“And I do not care if we are linked by blood, Uncle Shamus.” Morgana stared into his eyes. “I’ll gut you and leave your entrails to the crows. After three days of hunger and thirst tied to a rock you will beg for an end but none will come. You will feel every moment as your skin is stripped off. You’ll want to close your eyes but I’ll cut the lids…”

I placed a hand on her side gently tugging her back to lean at my side. “He’s had enough.” I said quietly into her ear.

The stupid fool trembled before Morgana. Shamus was swaying and shaking his head, his eyes squeezed shut.

‘Get out and take the trash with you.” I commanded stern as I could.

They hesitated.

‘Now!” Morgana growled darkly.

The whole gang retreated in a rush. They held and helped, arm under shoulder, the traumatised fool out the house.

“It’s cursed. You’re Unseelie! I’ll see justice, don't you forget it.” Shamus rambled as he was dragged out.

That was odd, people usually calm down when you listen to their pain. He seemed excessively angry and paranoid. He jumped to the conclusion of a curse awful fast. It was like someone wound him up and he exploded. A cultural thing?

Once I had seen the last of them filter out from the house, I turned around and asked, “How is everyone?”

“Okay.” my lovers replied as they snuggled into my sides. Iris spoke softly and nestled in closer for reassurance. Morgana exclaimed eagerly, taking my arm and entwining her fingers with mine. Umbra the most injured glued herself to my front, forcing to sit down and she cradle herself into my lap. 

“Better now that you are back.” Morgana added.

“How is it out there? Morgana said everything is fine. Is there much damage?” Iris asked curiously.

I shook my head. “No, there isn’t. I took care of them before they reached the gate.”

“Nice!” Iris exclaimed cheerily.

I looked over to Tulisa and Bryette and raised an eyebrow.

“All good, Master.” Said Byrette.

“We’re fine, Mistress Morgana had them handled.” Tuslia assured me.

“I’m glad, I can rely on you.” I said to Morgana. “On all of you.” I said louder to our group.

“We’re safe.”