Tetra & Xer

Tetra was already tired. She wasn’t exactly fond of a fight, but she despised stand-offs, and yet the water mage she was sent after smugly stared her down while holding a mortal prisoner as shield.

“That’s a coward’s move,” she declared.

“It’s an effective one. You can’t hurt a mortal.”

She was certainly capable of hurting a mortal, mostly on accident. The problem was she wasn’t allowed, both by law and personal ethics. The mage had also brightly lit the place, which meant there weren’t many shadows to grab hold of, or at least not ones dark enough to use. She held Excalibur at the ready.

“I don’t like weapons in my territory,” a voice said from above them. Tetra turned to see a man on a giant plant.

“I am clearly not the menace here!” Tetra yelled.

The water mage ran, dropping the mortal. Tetra ran after, jumping over the victim. By the time they were outside the building, he was out of site. She placed her hands over her eyes.

“Inveniam—”

“Who the hell are you?” the man from before interrupted her tracking spell. She turned to him, glad her helmet masked her glare.

“Tetra, the Shadow Master. Who the hell are you to interfere with my work?”

The man was around her height, light brown hair, slightly tanned skin, and a domino mask covering his eyes. He wore dark pants and a matching jacket and shirt. He was a vigilante, she realized. Wasn’t that illegal in America?

“That’s an accent you have,” the stranger said, “Where are you from?”

“That’s a long name, isn’t it?” she asked back.

“Newspapers call me Elemaster, allies call me Xer.” He pronounced the word with a hard c followed by an s, which just made her confused.

“And you’re doing something illegal I take it.”

The man didn’t look pleased at the comment.

“And you aren’t?”

At least he didn’t assume she was from Ireland like others seemed to.

“I’m from Magek,” she fibbed, that was where her authority came from, at least.

His expression turned worse.

“I don’t buy that from-another-world nonsense you mages always spout.”

Tetra genuinely didn’t know how to respond. Luckily Xer kept talking for her.

“It’s a clever trick for diplomatic immunity, but I don’t give a shit.”

It was like hearing someone from Magek claim that Feyries weren’t real. Sure nobody had seen them in years, but that didn’t mean they’d actually stopped existing.

“What the fuck?”

“And I just realized the guy is gone,” Xer said, “Did you see where he went?”

She was struggling hard not to stab him right then. She placed her hands over her eyes again.

“What are you—”

“Shh!”

She focused on the words.

“Inveniam Magus Aquarii.”

She saw so many lines, because of course there would be more than one water mage around.

“Fīnit.”

She turned in frustration toward Xer.

“I lost him.” she couldn’t stop herself from poking the man’s chest, “Next time stay out of what is clearly not your business.”

Rex walked home. No commissions for his job, and nobody he wanted to talk to. He wasn’t sure how he should feel about either of those prospects.

He stopped in his wallowing upon spotting a moving van next to his apartment complex with someone pulling items out of it alone.

“Need a hand?” he asked, “I live in the building, so we’ll be neighbors.”

The person holding a box was a black woman a little shorter than him, with hair pulled back from her face. Her lips looked like two perfect halves of a rose petal.

“I could afford the help, I suppose,” she said in a lovely British accent.

“I’m Rex,” he said, picking up the box she nodded at.

“Victoria.”

“Like Queen Victoria?”

“Like Victory.”

He wasn’t going to question her correction.

“What part of the building are you in?” he asked.

“Top floor.”

“What a coincidence,” he said, pressing the button for them, “So am I.”

“We really are neighbors then.”

“Did you think I was lying?”

She didn’t respond, watching the numbers tick up on the elevator.

“Once we get up there, I can grab my dolly. We’ll get everything up in a jiff.”

“A dolly?” she asked, “What do you have a dolly for?”

“From work. Sometimes I need to move awkward things. A few of them need to come with their own refrigerator until the grand reveal.”

Her expression looked confused.

“I make custom plants.”

She looked more confused, but in a way Rex understood.

“I’ll show you my workshop sometime.”

She gave a friendly false smile.

“I’ll consider it.”

He laughed.

“It’s weird, I know, but it’s really interesting, honestly.”

She seemed less than compelled, but luckily the elevator opened to their stop.

There weren’t many doors as the apartments were bigger near the top. He walked with Victoria to the one she had the key for. There were several packages already inside. She set hers down and gestured for Rex to place his box anywhere.

“I’ll get the dolly now.”

“That’s not really—”

“Trust me, it will be faster.”

He went into his apartment, beelining for where he left the dolly. Luckily it was actually where he left it. He wheeled it out as fast as he could so Victoria wouldn’t give up and take the elevator with her.

“Ta-da!”

Realization dawned on her face.

“A hand truck. I assumed you meant something else.”

“What did you think I meant?”

She shook her head, gesturing for him to move toward the elevator.

With the help of the dolly, Victoria’s van was quickly emptied, and her apartment filled with boxes.

“I’d offer to help unpack,” Rex said, “But that feels like a breach of privacy.”

She smiled, a real one this time.

“Just a tad. What you can help with is telling me the best place to find a pint.”

“Of ice cream?” Rex asked. Surely she’d seen several grocery stores at this point.

“Of alcohol. I owe you and your hand truck one, though I doubt it will accept.”

“Not really its scene,” Rex confirmed, “But my schedule’s open.”

“We were so busy moving you, I didn’t get a chance to ask, what do you do? Why are you in America?” Rex asked as they waited for their drinks. Victoria had ordered the first round after excusing herself to the ladies room.

“I’m an artist,” she answered, “A mage artist.” she did jazz hands to emphasize the exoticism.

“How does Magek play into it?” Rex asked.

“I make my own paint. There are potions in it. When it’s time to debut, I put a little power in, and things like plants and light comes out of the canvas. It doesn’t necessarily last though.”

“So you’re a swindler.”

Her jaw dropped in an offended expression that didn’t relent as they were given their drinks.

“They can be reactivated by anyone with the slightest capability of magek, and the art isn’t half-bad.”

“But is it half-good?” Rex asked.

“More than.”

He believed her, as far as he could throw her. He was critical of mages in general, especially when they came with such a pretty face.

He put his hands up in mock surrender.

“I trust you. Can I see it sometime?”

“Next gallery show, I’ll bring you as a date.”

That made him try not to spit his beer out.

“A date?”

“Helps to have someone pretty on your arm.”

Rex didn’t really want to be pretty, but he understood that to be a compliment.

“If the offer’s genuine, I look forward to it.”

They gave cheers, clinking their glasses finally.

“What do you do?” she asked, “How does one make custom plants?”

“Botanekinesis and a well-taxed botany degree,” Rex answered, “The powers let me build things on a timeline, and the degree lets me know my limits.”

She nodded.

“What kind of plants do you make?”

“I get asked for corpse flowers that stay open for longer,” he said, “And smell better. I can make them smell less, and release slower, which is good enough for my clientele. A lot of rose based asks; someone once asked me to make, and I quote, ‘a moat of briar roses, thorns included, for a birthday throne.’”

“Did you?” she asked.

“Of course, that was easy. They even sent me the dimensions. There were waivers involved so I wouldn’t be responsible if someone fell face first in it of course, but I did it.”

“Well at least my career doesn’t injure people,” Victoria said.

“You’ve never been lectured on the money-laundering involved in the art world, have you?” Rex asked. His lecture had been second hand, courtesy of Pete reiterating what his coworker’s sister told him, while Rex’s parents were busy buying an expensive piece of art.

“Touché,” Victoria said, “At least I get to make it though.” she gave a disappointed smile.

“Do your parents approve of your life choices?”

Rex had plenty of sympathy on that front.

“My father’s fine with it. I just have many obligations on my shoulders beyond my own desires. Eventually, they’ll come to bear.”

“Why?” Rex asked, “Why do you have to care about your obligations?”

He learned a long time ago that other people’s obligations just made you miserable, and Victoria wasn’t disproving.

“Sometimes it isn’t about you,” she said like liturgy.

Rex rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. She wasn’t going to be persuaded in this conversation. He finished his beer and asked for another round.

They tried to quiet their laughter as they took the stairs up, leaning on each other for support.

“I promise it’s true,” Victoria said, “My family are direct descendants of Lancelot.”

“It’s another mage nonsense. Arthur was Welsh, and the rest was made up by the French.”

“No, no,” Victoria said, “There was a Welsh Arthur, and his court, but there’s also the Arthur of Avalon and he,” Victoria paused to swallow something, Rex had no idea what, “He was awful.”

“Awful?”

“Just terrible. Well, he was a fine king until he decided to kill the Feyries. Now no one likes him.”

“Feyries?” Rex asked, “Like little pixies?”

“No, no. They were small, but they were people, just different people. Magek was their home before it was ours.”

“You’re colonizers?”

“Maybe,” Victoria said, “We still just have the continent, thank you Snow Queen, but we did remove the native population. Not that my family did.”

“Of course they didn’t.”

“They didn’t. The Lochs helped Feyries make it to safer countries, and the Tetra—”

“Tetra?” Rex asked. Where had he heard that name before, “Like four?”

“Yes, like four. I really don’t get why you’re so hostile about mages anyway.”

“You just say shit and expect us to take your word for it. There were two Arthurs. You live in another dimension. You—you—” he couldn’t think of everything else right now, though he was sure there was more that sounded made up, “I still like you though, you’re pretty.”

He really wanted to shut up after that. Why did he let himself get drunk with a total stranger?

“You’re pretty too,” Victoria said. Suddenly they were looking in each other’s eyes. Hers were black in the darkness.

“You’re beautiful.”

Her lips tasted like booze, or maybe that was just the taste of Rex’s mouth already. His hands didn’t know where to move, but they settled on the small of her back. Hers moved to his chest.

Then they pushed him off of her, her expression terrified.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t—I thought,” Rex stuttered.

She ran off before he could explain himself. He made the wisest decision of the day to stay on the stairs until he was sure she’d reached her apartment.

“Shit,” he said again. He’d probably lost his chance to explain.