To Kill a God

Halberd

Al sat back, thumbing through the book of white holy spells and reading the almost nonsensical rhymes in it. English was magical here. He suddenly wished he had paid more attention in class. But, he thought, this doesn't matter much. I can't use magic.

Across the room, Zips was frowning at her book and waving her arm in the air. <Object without weight, levitate!> she said. The wooden block she was pointing at lifted an inch off the table. It floated there, wobbling slightly. "Cool," she said.

The block flew across the room and embedded itself into the far wall, leaving a trail of cracks in the drywall. "Um... oops?" She lowered her hand carefully.

"Fitzgerald," Al asked, "Is there any reasoning behind the rhyming scheme of these spells?"

The wizard stroked his long beard. "Why, yes, though the exactness of it is a matter of some speculation. Many spend their lives studying the makeup of spells. They do happen across new spells, every so often."

Al nodded. "Zips, could you try something magical for me?"

Zips looked up from the red book and nodded. "Sure thing, bro. Anything for my poor, handicapped brother."

He had the impression she was going to rub that one in for a while. "Say as I do, and just... gesture at one of the blocks Fitzgerald gave you. Anything would do, I suppose."

"Alright," she said.

Al coughed into his closed fist and recited in a sing-song voice. <Segmentational Cavity, without gravity.> He figured that that was nearly nonsense, but nonsense with a rhyme.

Zips repeated what he had said, pointing at the block before her.

Nothing happened.

And then the girl started to float off the ground. "Oh, cool," she said as her feet flew passed her head and she flipped upside down. "Bro, I can fly! Now I all need are lightning bolts and I'll rule the world!"

Al nodded, then turned to the rather surprised Fitzgerald. "It seems pretty simple. Just a series of rhymes, though the intended results were not... that. I suppose being a native speaker of the... magic tongue helps."

"Oh, no, anyone speaking a random spell will have some effect. I'm just surprised that it worked at all. And that she understood you. I only heard gibberish. Anyone hearing another's spell will hear gibberish."

"Really? I heard you speak every spell so far," Al said. He frowned in thought before giving up. "It doesn't matter. As far as I can tell, none of this will help us get home. We need to find an stronger magic user. Any suggestions?"

Fitzgerald Shook his head. "There are a few rogue practitioners like Cogs and myself, though most will be weaker than I. Most magicians in this city will be either of the clergy or the Arcanum. What we call the arcanist's guild."

"So we'll go there." Al stood up. "But that's for tomorrow. I think we'll go crash at Cog's place for tonight. Maybe grab a bite to eat... which reminds me. We have no currency from this world. Or weapons. Or clothes." He looked out the window of the shop. The street ahead was cast in a light-blue. The sun was rising slowly, and he could see a few pedestrians making their unhurried way by.

"I... I cannot help with most of those," Fitzgerald said. "But weapons I might have." He looked Al up and down. "You don't happen to have the training to use a sword, do you?"

"No, I suppose I don't. Hand to hand training, yes. Some with the staff. Plenty with the gun. But That last one is going to be difficult to use here, not without a ready supply of ammunition." He stopped himself when he saw the confusion on the dwarf's face.

Fitzgerald grabbed his beard again. "The staff. Yes, I have something you might like." With that, he walked away, and to the front of the store.

"Aww, you're getting a sweet toy?" Zips complained. "All I got were a few dusty books."

Al stared at the five floating blocks above her head. One of them was on fire. "And the ability to make thing burn by waving your hand. I got the short end this time, sis."

She shrugged and turned to Mara. "What about you, Fluffy-kin. Going to stick with us for the ride? Might be fun!"

Mara looked between the two. "Haven't been paid yet. You are getting lots of things worth... stuff. Might stay. Might go." She shrugged.

"Fair enough," Al said, ending the conversation just as the wizard returned with three objects. The first was a pair of small sacks filled with something that clinked metallically. "These," he said as he tossed the two bags on the table. "Have all the gold, silver and small coinage I have in the shop. Not so much to call yourselves rich, but enough to make due."

"Fitzgerald, we can't accept that," Al began.

"Nonsense. I'll be telling every customer from here to London about how even gods shop at Fitzgerald's. If that doesn't do, well, it's not everyday you get visitors from another plane. And that's all I have in the shop. I have plenty more in the bank." That said, he placed the second object down on the table. It was a long staff of wood, marked form top to bottom with incredibly intricate carvings. "This is a battlestaff, used by battlemages in wars passed. I made this one myself a few decades ago, and it bears the marks of my shop. It's a fine piece, if I do say so myself."

The old wizard brought the staff over to Zips and handed it to her. She took it lovingly, her eyes filling with tears. Whipping her head around she looked at Al. "I have a wizard's staff!" she squealed.

Al couldn't help but laugh.

"And this, my young... godliness, is for you." The last thing was a long piece of carved wood, a head taller than the dwarf and with another section above it covered with a cloth. Fitzgerald whipped the cloth off, revealing a long blade of bluish steel. "It's a mythril and godswood halberd. An adventurer found it deep in the fifth tier of a faraway dungeon and sold it to me for... well, quite a bit."

With a toss, Fitzgerald gave Al the weapon.

Al measured it, placing the butt on the ground to see that it came to about the top of his head. The wood was heavy and reassuring in its weight, but also soft along its entire length. Leather was wrapped around the midsection where his hands seemed to fall naturally, and there was a dip near the other end in which his fingers seemed to slide into. The blade had the image of two hawks in flight racing towards the wicked point at the end. "It's beautiful," he said.

"Mythril, and dwarven made, if I don't miss my guess. It'll never rust and is nearly unshatterable. The edge will dull, with time, and I'm told that it's hell to sharpen, but that's not a big issue, all things told. The wood is godswood. Flexible, but harder than iron. And impossible to burn. I carved her runes myself. She should absorb any spells of the second tier and below."

Al hefted the halberd up and gave it a twirl. It sang as it sliced through the air. "I love it. Thank you, Fitzgerald."

The dwarf smiled at him. "If you can't find what you're looking for, then maybe you'll visit this old dwarf again. I'll have tea ready."

"Certainly." Al said.

With that, the four of them went to the shop at the front, Al and Zips placing the bags of coin in their cloaks and shaking Fitzgerald's hands as they left. Mara was on their heals the whole time.

Just like that, they found themselves on the street, staring at the pedestrians walking by on early morning errands. "Hoods up," Al said as he pulled his up. Zips grumbled, but did as she was told.

"Where to?"

Mara's stomach growled behind them. "Hungry," she declared.

Al looked down both ways of the street. One lead deeper into the city and towards the fortress walls surrounding it. The other towards the outskirts, where Cogs was waiting. He turned towards the city centre. "Let's find something to eat," he declared.

A/N: I decided to start adding Author's Notes. Mostly because I can, and I like reading A/Ns on other stories. I'll be keeping it professional... ish. This chapter was fun to write, though it's not big on action. That'll change very, very soon.