So it is done

When all you've got is magic

A young guy lying on the ground of a dirty alley could repel the attention of a passer-by with three actions.

The first was that he continued to lie on the ground. This was unusual for Atlas residents, but more often than not, it would be ignored if he continued to lie in the muddy alley, and not on the main road, disturbing passers-by.

The second was their appearance. Drunkards were not the most frequent sight in Atlas. And even if Atlas residents met one, they were usually just dirty vagrants who, for some strange reason, had not yet been thrown out of their wonderful floating city. So because the young man was, which is important, young and looked neat enough, he looked nothing like a dirty drunk vagrant.

And the third fact, which was related to the second, was his clothes. A neat expensive looking cloak that could fit, as an adult and a serious inhabitant of Atlas would remark with a grin, to some magician straight out of some children's entertainment or, which was much more likely, to a Hunter.

However, Hunters almost never parted with their weapons. And therefore an unarmed Hunter lying on the floor in a dirty alley would have attracted attention especially strongly.

Although, of course, with the way mecha-shift weapons most Hunters preferred, almost anything in the young man's person could be a weapon.

Taken in its entirety, almost everybody would ignore the prospective Hunter lying in the discreet alley. All the good Hunters are all weirdos after all.

But of course, the young man was unarmed. As a proud Adept of the Order of Hermes, carrying something that the Technocrats would slobber over would be anathema. Of course, he was unarmed only in the minds of those inhabitants of Atlas familiar to Hunters rather than to the Practitioners of Art.

And the young Magician would prefer to keep it that way.

That is why, when the inconspicuous young man, who was lying so calmly in his place, seemed to shake awake, most people ignored him. And when he then calmly turned over onto his back, all the while slowly spreading his limbs in the pose of a star, nobody really noticed. When he sucked in air noisily, as if taking a deep breath, and slowly breathed out, none of those people that could curiously peeked into the alley could have guessed that the actions taken were not a manifestation of carelessness. Instead, it was a well-played performance for any possible observer, which allowed the magician currently lying on the ground to use magic under the nose of a possible completely attentive opponent.

Sharply exhaling, the young man paused for a second, to see if anyone was going to ambush him. Seeing none coming, he opened his eyes and lifted himself abruptly from the ground.

"I hate making a pentacle out of my own body." The now awakened magician, Jonathan, brought his legs and arms back together, which just a few seconds ago, thanks to his action, formed a primitive, but still effective five-directional magic seal.

"I confess, I'm still not very sure where I am... But I don't seem to be tied to a sacrificial altar or table of one of those techno-vivisectors I heard about. A reason to rejoice at my luck, at least."Jonathan grumbled, as he ran his hand over his face, to knock any remnant of sleepiness from his psyche.

Immediately, memories of what had just happened to him rushed to his mind persistently, but fragmentarily.

"Old man... Storm... Umbra? Damn it, Umbra!" Jonathan shook his head in alarm, before deciding to inspect his surroundings.

A dark alley between the shadows of several buildings, building sizes looked normal enough and at a glance seemed to be twenty-stories high. Architecturally, the building around him looked like something like these American high-rises... Although, in London's business districts, everything looks about the same.