Humanity

By Levi Shipley

The worldwide country of Destursha is filled with tension after The Order took down their king. Now, needing to placate the old powers and make it home, The Order amasses an army to revolt against the governors who once sat in the king's pocket.
Among their new recruits is a young mage named Xavier Pontius who holds tremendous aptitude. Being such a valuable asset, he decide whether to stay with his allegiance or sell to the highest bidder. And, despite his good intentions, he does have a few secrets to hide.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Levi Shipley
• Release date: Mar 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370551460

Levi Shipley

I am a writer. Not because of my vocabulary or any particular push in that direction. I simply feel like the person I'm meant to be after a good session at the keyboard. Otherwise, just an average person.

Book preview

One

The wolves gathered together in the Sentinel. The Leviathans, unhinged of a ruler to serve, have agreed to tolerate their presence but not actively help. Having lost the youngest member almost a year prior, The Order is looking for recruits. Not new werewolves, but strong hands and swift minds to help aid them in overthrowing the resisting governors. The Leviathans promise to extend arms if the governors are suppressed, so the conquest is still in its diapers.

Patricia Germaine sat across from them with Partheus by her side. She funded most of the events along with a few other good benefactors. Why she volunteered to be a patron was unknown to the five gathered around the door, but they appreciated it all the same, Partheus in particular.

Outside the gargantuan structure that once housed a line of kings, an impressive line formed to join their cause. Most were former Chrissenians and had a moral debt to repay, some would recall the tragedy Patricia had been included in, and the rest were variables. The Order processed them, asking questions anywhere between what the volunteer’s favorite pastime was and if they’d be willing to die for their endeavors. This was one of many recruitment days.

After Hodge sent away a pair of novian girls that were too young to serve, a young novian man with hair of neon white and height nearing that of a dwarf stepped up. Salina interviewed him. And, despite his impressive size for his race, his nerves were visibly shaken. It was clear that he wanted to be admitted and that he feared rejection. He claimed to be a mage in training and cast a fireball, hardly anything more than a spark, at the floor to prove it. It was better than most could do. His name was Xavier Pontius.

Two

Xavier was sent to sit in the yard on the other end of the castle with the rest of those admitted and wait until the recruitment was over to be briefed and sent away until needed. The people around him made small talk about how brutal the last winter had been and how mild this one was turning out to be. He’d heard all of that before from a thousand other strangers, but then he caught something important.

An elf and a draken stood by the refreshment table on the outside of the canopy tent. Their heads just high enough that their crests weren’t struck by the slanted weak sunlight of this early winter. The elf turned to the draken after finishing a cup of something and said, Did you hear about the Dark Forest.

The draken shook his head, and the green scales of his forehead glimmered blue for a moment.

I guess that after the Chrissenians left, things got strange there. Real strange.

How’s that? Asked the draken.

People that go in never come back out. It used to be perfectly safe to travel, just scary as hell. But now there’s something dangerous in there.

Or maybe it’s so nice that no one wants to leave.

Maybe. But I would think a few of them would come out to tell all of us how great it is. It doesn’t sit right with me.

I thought the woods were actually consumed with friendly magicks.

The elf shrugged. Not anymore.

The draken glanced at Xavier and then beyond him. The novian turned away. He had forgotten that he was staring and did what he could to make himself look as though his gaze had only been passing over the two and not honed on them. So occupied was he by this that he was the last to notice Partheus had come to make the day’s announcements.

Thank you all for coming. Partheus said absently. He carried a stack of papers with print on their front sides. On the rears and between lines of text was a gray haze, scrap paper. Please step forward and get your . . . we’ll call it employee papers.

And they all did. Some even seemed to be eager, but the rest were nonchalant or touched with nervousness. Partheus made no reaction to any of the recruits’ attitudes, but he had memorized their names and thanked them individually as they went up. He told them they were free to go home after that, and the waiting area emptied quickly. He would turn in the direction of the old Leviathan barrack whenever he had the chance. That was where The Order was and Miss Germaine, and Xavier found himself pondering why Partheus was so anxious to get back to them.

Then it was Xavier’s turn. The thick stack of copier paper in Sallow’s hands had deflated down to a loose bunch of sheets. Partheus looked down at Xavier, who came only to the elf’s thighs, not in the way one looks down at a child (which many did to novians) but in a way that said Xavier was just as big as anyone else. Xavier reached up to get his copy, but Partheus held the sheets away.

Not for you. Said Partheus Sallow, former mayor of Chrissenia, in his most political voice. I need to speak with you after the rest have come up.

So Xavier stood to the side while the remaining recruits got their briefing. They looked at him the way classmates look at another who has been called to the principal’s office. The red sun hung halfway over the horizon, and the golden crystal plating of the Sentinel gleamed in a way that would have been beautiful if it weren’t so annoying. As the night’s chill began to sink into Xavier’s skin, Partheus finished with the last and rolled up the remaining few papers.

Ok, follow me. He began toward the barrack, and Xavier followed wordlessly.

Three

The barrack had a different feel to it now than it had before, solemn and important. Maybe that had to do with it being dusk, or perhaps the lack of people made it so. Either way, Xavier suspected that he was brought here for something important or something insignificant, nothing in between.

To Xavier’s left was the one he recognized as Salina talking to Miss Germaine, an exceedingly wealthy heir to the Germaine fortune. Though he admired Salina’s appearance, he dared not look long. There was a certain danger in staring at a woman who could pop your skull off your neck with her thumb. To his right was Arthur, a red headed man with a bizarre accent, and his wife Marianna. Hodge, their leader, stood in front of the wall where Partheus and Patricia had been sitting earlier. Nelrene, Hodge’s wife, was nowhere to be seen. His arms were folded over his chest, and though he was not smiling he had an air of happiness around him, of satisfaction. They looked to Xavier like novians but were as tall as elves. They were in their human forms.

Xavier, Hodge let out and unfolded his arms as if they had been holding in his words. I hear good things about you. Partheus kept moving as Xavier stopped. He opened a trashcan and sighed as he dropped the extra briefings into it. Then he walked to Salina and Patricia and became lost in whatever conversation they were having.

Xavier looked up at the man. I haven’t done anything yet.

I saw that flame earlier today. That’s a great start. I assume you haven’t been practicing magic for very long.

Just a month, sir.

You shouldn’t even be able to spell ‘flame’ yet.

Thank you.

And your head doesn’t swell at every compliment. Hodge looked over his shoulder as if he were checking a clock. Keep working on that, got it? We don’t have access to the Leviathans’ wizards, but they would be a great help. You will be a great help. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a white laminated card. This is a train pass, good for the next year. He handed it to Xavier. I want you to go to Harkem in a week and meet me there. Next Solday at dusk I’ll be taking you and a group of other promising mages to a sort of training ground. Bring a few pairs of clothes. We’ll probably be there a couple days.

You’re a wizard? Xavier asked as he carefully slipped the card into a pocket of his own. The thing felt heavier than it really was as if the weight of its meaning was affected by gravity.

That’s a detail. Hodge said. There was a pause and he seemed to study the new recruit for a few moments. Then he waved a hand and yawned for the sake of ceremony. Well, you’re free to go home. Nothing more for today. As Xavier passed the threshold of the door, Hodge repeated. Next Solday, the sixteenth, at dusk. Harkem, remember that.

Xavier went home.

Four

Hodge turned to Arthur, and they shared a knowing glance. Then Hodge said, There was something off about him. The way he smelled. No, the way he didn’t smell.

He was cloaking it. Arthur replied in his still very much alive British accent. He’s young, maybe twenty. But novians age well, so I guess he could be thirty.

What do you think?

I think he learned magic just for that. I remember being a boy. I reeked. If magic had been available to me, I’d have cloaked my stench too.

Hodge nodded and rolled his shoulders, not quite a full-blown shrug.

You remember how big male deodorant was when we left. Arthur waited for another nod. It’s the same here.

He’s getting himself into deep waters because of it.

But, it isn’t as if we’re not training him.

Chapter Two

One

Xavier unlocked the door to his apartment. The clicking of the tumblers always sounded unsettling to him, as if he could hear the echo of them bounce off an intruder that had beaten him home.

The door swung open, and behold, there were no invaders waiting for him. What a surprise that was. He stepped in and closed the door shut behind him. He left the lights off, and fumbled to find the switch. He banged a knee into the coat hanger that he never used and flipped the switch as he wretched over to grab the throbbing joint.

He looked at the room and a half that was his home, a barren place he neglected to fill with little trinkets and the like that made such spaces homes. Or perhaps that was the job of family. He had neither, but this would have to be a home even so. He set his keys on the clean coffee table and then sat on the stainless couch. He beheld the blank wall before him, where once a television sat that a former tenant chose to bring with.

He sat up and walked to the fridge, opening it without thought. A bottle of nearly spoiled milk sat on one tray. Below it was a leftover sandwich from the day before. He grabbed both of these items, thereby emptying the underworked cooling unit, and sat back down on the couch. He took the foil off the sandwich and looked at the soggy bread and lettuce for a moment before biting in. There had been a tomato slice the day before, but whatever flavor in it there had been departed overnight. The ham kept its taste, the horseradish more so. The milk was on the verge of smelling, and Xavier could detect the way the milk was trying to separate. But for now it wouldn’t make him sick, and he could finish it before it would.

Downstairs someone was yelling at someone named Fran. It almost seemed to come from the coffee table.

As he finished the leftover sandwich, a fog of exhaustion settled over him. It took away his appetite more than the vanishing food did, and it made Fran sound annoying. She should apologize for whatever, or maybe the other should. Either way, Xavier became too tired to leave the couch and tell them so. He rolled onto his side and stared at the backrest. It was red at first with a dark stain. Then it was maroon with a stain, and a few seconds after that it was all black.

Two

In his dream he was wandering through an opaque wood that could only be the Dark Forest. He couldn’t see anything but somehow managed to avoid the trees. Behind him he heard rustling, snapping twigs and heavy steps. He was being followed by something that didn’t care about stealth. He could hear the breathing of many burdened creatures, and the trees seemed to sigh as he passed. And in the farthest reaches of his hearing, he thought he heard whispering.

He awoke staring at the table. Sunlight from a window fell on him and with it realization. He scurried over the couch and looked down over the other side. There was his alarm clock, the faithfully evil device, never set. And he was late, not by much just yet, but soon he would be.

Xavier ran to the closet bathroom, pulling his clothes off on the way as quickly as he could. He turned the water on in the shower and jumped in without waiting for it to warm. The icy water met his skin, and he began yelping and gasping for breath. He haphazardly used his shampoo and soap at the same time in hopes that he could perform both cleaning rituals at once.

He stepped out of the shower, and the cool air that struck him felt heated compared to where he’d just come from. He’d left one towel in the room and was thankful for it. He dried and used it as a kilt while he ran into the main room and sorted through his pile of clean clothes. The process took only a few moments, but to him felt like another hour had passed. On with the pants, on with the shirt, and on with the socks.

He rushed out of the room, locked the door and took a few leaping bounds before spinning around and running back. Now was not the time to be forgetting to brush one’s teeth. He ran back in and cleaned his ivories. Out the door again, he locked up and flew downstairs.

It would have to be cold that day. The mild temperatures and sunshine decided to depart on the morning Xavier forgot a jacket, had no time for it. The air stiffened his face and burned his lungs. A cool sensation wrapped itself around his legs, and his teeth began to chatter while he ran. His moist hair froze over and slicked itself. It hadn’t been this cold since last winter, and no one wanted a repeat of that, Xavier included.

Three

He trotted into Saint Braun and jogged down a hall. Erica, the head nurse, raised her thick eyebrows and giggled at him as he ran past her station. She shuffled some papers as another nurse, who seemed unaware of his scrambling, approached her with a clipboard and used it to whisper something to Erica with lips concealed.

Xavier pushed open the door of the janitor’s room. An hour late was bad, but he supposed it could be worse, and he could always work a bit faster to compensate.

Sam Petron, an elf and fellow janitor, was sitting on a metal chair in the corner of the room and sipping on a cup of the awful coffee he made every morning. Under his dark mustache which brushed the edges of his mug with every drink, was a grin. He appeared on the verge of spitting out the latest haul of joe. Next to him was a counter with his coffee pot, a microwave, and a set of cabinet drawers above and a sink below.

He set the cup on the counter and looked up at Xavier. His grin remained, and cooling coffee hung in his cookie duster. He stood up, turned back to the cup and finished it off. He dropped it into the sink and headed for the door. As his hand turned the flat handle, he turned to Xavier who was now attaching his name tag. To be young. He said in a voice that was faint and far away, as if it was trying to reach into the past and take his youth back. Those were the days. He left the room, still talking. Staying up late. Never mattered. Having all the (too faint to hear) on my arms. It . . . And the rest, if he was still going on, was too muffled for Xavier to hear.

There was a note on the tag folder addressed to Xavier. It was bad enough that he was late, but extra work would make this a busy day.

Xavier,

We had an incident this morning when a few kids got ahold of a gurney and rode it around the 3rd floor. They knocked over some vases by the janitor’s closet, spilled whatever food they had by Dr. Walst’s office, and chucked up whatever food they already ate in front of the cleric station before we were able to nab them. : ) –Erica

P.S. We need you to clean that up. Sorry : (

That all sounded about right. He grabbed a mop bucket from a closet down the hall and went to an elevator. He pressed the up switch and watched the little electric sign go from 5D to 4D and wondered why in such a well-to-do city there were no service elevators for the maintenance crew. It stopped at 3D and again at 2D. Both of these were longer than the previous stops; people were boarding and dropping off. And then it just stayed at 2 for what seemed like minutes. Someone was holding up the elevator, probably shooting the breeze and jamming their arm into the space between the doors.

Then the steel box made its descent, the red text changing from 2D to 1D. There was an affirming beep just before the door slid open and released a greasy ogre in a business suit. The man’s skin was teal, which was a sick color for ogres. He wore an enormous sweat stained three piece which was all brought together by an orange tie with a green stain below the knot. He ambled out of the car, reeking of death and surely headed for the E.R. But instead he clumsily trudged out a door and into the light of day.

Xavier stepped into the elevator and pressed 3.

Four

If Erica was good at anything, it was exaggerating. The garbage strewn mess he expected was nothing more than a few wrappers and soda cans. He cleaned these up and looked for the elusive vomit he’d read so much about. Not finding any, he laid his mop against the wall by the cleric station and let the bucket slip from his hands and drift to a stop.

He walked into Walst’s office. There was a little waiting room outside that couldn’t possibly be blander in which an aged novian woman sat with her purse tucked into her lap as if it might contain her heart. Xavier walked up to the sign in counter and stood on his toes; the girl behind it was shuffling some papers.

Hello, Carnith. He said even though she did not know him well. He waited for a reply.

Her deep socketed elven eyes looked at him levelly, and she smiled and leaned forward. How can I help you, There was a pause. It was brief, but Xavier knew it was because she’d forgotten his name, or at least it slipped by for a moment. Xavier?

I don’t know if you were here for it or not, but I guess some boys caused a ruckus earlier. He dropped from his toes and popped his ankles. For a moment, Carnith was out of sight and all that could be seen was the white counter side and the junk stuck to its underside. He raised up again, unaware that he was smiling. I came to clean it up, but my ‘briefing’ made it sound a lot worse. Did someone already start on it? And if one of them lost their breakfast, I should probably find it before we break health codes.

I don’t think anyone beat you to it. Her hands slipped back and she began paper clipping little bundles of documents together. Walst burst through the door next to her and asked for a ‘Dara Henner.’ The novian woman looked dazedly at the doctor and then went to him and was lost behind the door. Carnith went on, Doctor Walst took care of the vomit himself. The kid used a trash can, and he went out, tied the bag, and told one of them to throw it in the bin out back when Security took them away. You might have to put a new bag in, but otherwise it’s done.

Xavier nodded, and his feet decided that that made him feel heavier. He grunted and concealed it by clearing his throat. Thanks Carnith. And tell Walst I thank him as well.

Don’t worry, and I’ll be sure to.

He doubted she would actually do that, but that wasn’t his responsibility. Xavier went back into the hall. His calves wanted to cramp, but thankfully the tightening sensation passed. He checked the garbage cans, and sure enough one of them was empty. He made sure no one tossed their coffee cups in it or gum. Seeing it at least look clean, he took a bag from a holster on the side of his mop bucket, unfolded it and aired it out. On his toes again he stretched the bag over the metal cylinder’s rim.

He looked left and right and couldn’t see any more messes. He rubbed the space between his eyebrows and walked toward the window. The glass was thick but almost as transparent as a vacuum. Outside he could see the ogre from before hurling in a bush on the other side of the street, and a woman next to him seemed to be coaxing him to the hospital. There was a school a few blocks beyond them, and Xavier could see a few of the children outside for recess. And beyond that was a sparse stretch of suburb and then wilderness.

He heard footsteps behind a corner and picked up his mop. Best not to look lazy. He made for the elevator, as it was his turn today to wipe the basement floor. It was almost always deserted, so he enjoyed the time it gave him to think unimpeded. The steps closed in and changed from echo to direct. Xavier turned to throw a smile at whomever might be wandering the hall that morning. When he saw her, his hands coated themselves in a thin layer of sweat, his legs locked up, and his ears suddenly heard the pounding of his heart, a deliberate and conking thing.

Five

Salina stared at him as if she had been watching him through the wall, and he supposed she might have. Her clothes were much too large for her and helped accentuate her beauty about as much as a car accident helps tune up an engine. But her face was exquisite, and it locked Xavier in place. He prepared to hand back his train pass, remembered that he left it at home, and then scrambled through his inner working to find a way to say that best.

She stood next to him and leaned down. Xavier could see the outline of her chest and pulled his eyes up as quickly as he could; he had to remember the skull popping. His heart began to beat in arrhythmic patterns.

Then a flood of soothing senses washed over him, and Xavier could no longer understand why he was getting so worked up. His smile broadened through great effort, and he gave her a recognizing nod. That wasn’t the right one, he would later think. This wasn’t seeing an acquaintance pass you on the street. There was business here.

Maybe she saw his discomfort, because she straightened her back after his nod. Though she herself didn’t appear very pleased with looking so far down on someone. Pontius was it? She crossed her arms.

He said yes in his mind, but his lips didn’t move. He bit whatever nerve was holding his tongue with a quick series of man up phrases that passed through him. Yes. He said out loud. My first name is Xavier. Whichever you want to use. Not really fond of my last name. His eyes darted to the right like a convict’s. He didn’t want to look this shaken.

How long have you been practicing magic? I don’t remember what Hodge said.

The change in subject brought his eyes back to hers. A month. Closer to six weeks.

Most people take a while before they can really begin to use it. You were already able to conjure up fire. Sunlight bounced from her green eyes, and they shone with curiosity.

He pulled his hands up like a man looking at the bloodstains he’s given himself, inspected them, and let them drop to his sides. A spark is hardly a fire.

And a snowflake is hardly the Arctic. She saw his head cock to the side. Or a harsh winter, if you’re more familiar with that. And I imagine you have to be. But it’s a part of it, the first block. She squatted down in front of him, resting her arms on her knees and observing his face. You must have had, or do have, a wonderful teacher. Her eyes narrowed until there was nothing but green and a speck of black in the center. Which is odd considering that you need to be in the military or have an expensive license to learn magic legally.

Xavier’s left hand found his sternum while the other went up. I’ve been mostly self-taught. His hands returned to his sides. And there’s no law or license that says you can’t self-teach magic. He felt her suspicion and wished it away. Xavier didn’t want Salina to distrust him. He liked her, and he wanted her to at the very least consider him a friend, but this conversation was beginning to feel most unfriendly. I . . . I guess I’m just picking it up fast, then. I don’t know what else to say.

The elevator door opened and he stepped in. He pressed the plastic circle with a B in the center and watched the letter light up red. He shrugged at Salina in the hall, and then she too entered the car. His heart sank when she did. Xavier supposed there were men that would kill to be alone with her, but as it was she was the last person he wanted to be alone with.

Six

They began to descend, and the screen above the floor panel changed from 3D to 2D and so on. At both the second and first floor, Xavier hoped the door would open and she’d get off. But it kept on smoothly rolling to the basement. Salina was silent and faced forward, but he could feel her staring with her thoughts. He wondered if a hospital was safe enough for him.

The door opened. Xavier held the door subconsciously as Salina followed behind. The lights were off, and flicking them on revealed the dust and grime the other janitors had left. He sighed, Dante clearly hadn’t cleaned the place the week before. More work for him, and more time to spend with the werewolf.

He found the maintenance closet and pulled out all the tools he would need. Salina propped herself against a pillar and crossed her arms. Her eyes drilled into his back, and her silence was eerie. Xavier went on with the cleaning as if she were nothing more than a cardboard cutout. Hopefully she wouldn’t decide to plaster the wall with his bones. He didn’t think she was unhappy exactly, so maybe it wouldn’t come to that.

Seven

He began on a storage room that had been filled with metal folding chairs since time immemorial. The room was dusty and covered in webs, not cleaned since his last turn a month ago. He smelled something pungent, stale beer. Someone had fun in this room but didn’t bother to clean it up.

Xavier turned the light switch on, but the room stayed unlit. A chair fell with a harsh clang, the sound of scuffling feet, and the hair on his neck stood on end. To him he felt like he was in a bad horror film. The room he shouldn’t enter was right there, but like all those paid actor morons he stepped inside. At best, it was a rat. At worst, at least Salina was there.

His eyes began adjusting, and he saw the outlines of all the chairs and what wasn’t a chair. Curled up facing the wall was a figure draped in a blanket sewn together from old jackets. It began breathing heavily as Xavier approached. Long dark hair matted with mud fell in straggles down its back.

Hey! Xavier said, wishing he’d just called Security instead. This room is restricted to employees. And he knew the man, or woman, whatever it was knew that. Had to say it anyway, because that’s just what you’re supposed to do. No parties and no free boarding. The slumped breathing pile didn’t budge, so Xavier followed the footnotes of any B horror film character and went to grab the shoulder. Now the thing revealed itself to be an elf, though with its odor and general lack of hygiene, it might have been better described as an overgrown rat. It was on Xavier in a flash and began bludgeoning him with an empty bottle, all the while screaming I ain’t going! even though it came out Ahh in geen!

There was a painful thump on his head, and Xavier’s vision departed. He could feel his mind and eyes struggling to cling onto sight, but it was like trying to fight gravity. He simply fell into darkness.

Chapter Three

One

He woke up in a bed. Something that felt like gauze was wrapped around his head, but thankfully they hadn’t stripped him down and thrown a ridiculous gown on. A plastic brace was on his nose and made him breathe with a whine, so he switched over to mouth.

I don’t understand men’s pride. Salina said to no one. Why you can’t just ask for a woman’s help when you need it is beyond me, and I guess it always will be.

You got him then? It hurt his nose to talk, but he ignored it.

You’re a half pint, and you’re no grand wizard yet. Were you planning on handling that with your brute strength?

He sighed and was surprised that his nose didn’t object. We both know I wasn’t thinking at all. That’s how people get into trouble. He tried to tap his temple, but feeling the wrap, he rubbed it instead.

I’m sorry for calling you a half pint. Now that I think of it, that’s kind of racist. Still though, if I hadn’t been there.

Most of my people are quarter pints. Half pint is accurate. And thanks. I think if we took a tally though, I’d still be the one owing you.

The subject seemed to bore her, and she moved on. Since you’re just relaxing, let’s talk.

He objected on the inside but was in no position to refuse her. "You