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Orphan at the Edge of the World

With the combined knowledge and talents of a man from the modern world and an orphan with a mysterious past, Orison must face the challenges of a world that seems hauntingly familiar to a favorite video game yet dangerously different. Armed with determination and gifts from a questionable source, what other choice is worth making but to boldly advance when you're an orphan at the edge of the world. *Vol 1- Post Ancient Civilization High Fantasy *Vol 2- Magic Industrial Revolution High Fantasy *Vol 3- 1940's Alternate Earth Urban Fantasy/Horror

Seide · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
328 Chs

Crawling Chaos 10

The young mage saw 'Jianghu' out, despite the man looking like he didn't want to be anywhere near Orison, growing more distraught and angry looking by the second. He didn't follow the man to annoy him, though. He did it because Herne looked confused when Orison asked him where the bodies were and the explanation that came afterward.

Stepping outside, the 'Third Brother' saw a woman that was familiar to him but not Orison running around, looking manically happy. At first he was stunned and looked back in shock at Orison. Seeing the young mage shrug his shoulders with a mischievous grin on his face, the man look like he struggled between hugging Orison or punching him in the face. Fortunately for 'Jianghu', he chose to run up to the woman and check on her.

With 'Third Brother' fussing over the woman, Orison walked around the corner where a man sat looking lost beside one who was all but dead. "There was a grain of true virtue in you so you were half spared. I'm going to heal you enough that the other half doesn't bleed out of you in small ways til you die from it despite being shown mercy."

After a couple of heals which served to stop the hemorrhage of vital essence that seeped out of whatever supernatural wounding method Herne used, the man said, "What about him?"

Orison shrugged. The man was suffering from severe soul fading and lack of vitality. That he could even muster enough emotional impetus to ask after another before he'd even had a chance to recover spoke volumes about the validity of Herne's claim. It didn't really impress the young mage that much.

Had it been his call, in the heat of the moment, none of them would have survived. After having a chance to cool down, he was glad they did, even if it was only a technicality for the third member of their group. It made things less complicated for him and a great deal more so for the one targeting him.

This incident served as a wake up call for Orison, however. Herne might serve him in a technical manner but the entity followed rules unknown to the mage and the alien powers it wielded didn't follow any logical standard that Orison could measure. The huntsman might be on his roster, but that didn't mean the fey creature was a killing machine ready to mow down obstacles for the young mage, either.

Whatever the case, two members from another tong became powerless mundanes and the third became a soulless puppet not capable of much besides following simple orders. That the woman had been freed from the oppression of an unwanted gift and the third man would be abandoned by the one he had unquestioningly served, waking up others to the nature of the person they paid homage to were things that Orison wouldn't have ever thought to ask if Herne hadn't shared.

Unwilling to answer much about himself for roughly the same reasons climbers didn't talk about their keys, Herne said, "My lord, of what can be shared, mayhaps this is of the most value. The wild hunt may be called to right a wrong. If so, it hunts that wrong but it shall hunt that same wrong from the caller as well, else they become a hound of the hunt themselves. My lord is spared from this but only so far.

"My Lord may release me to serve of mine own free will, tis best. That which may be drawn upon to serve may be of lesser import but the cost, tis only sincerity. To be called upon in the hunt of beast, regardless of form, that displeases creation is not only duty. Tis mine pleasure. All else is left to greater hands, my lord. If it please you, mine efforts have left me wanting rest."

Spared or not, the visiting members from another tong and Third Brother himself had a task to perform that Orison wasn't willing to let them complete without a fight. It was also obvious that they were no longer up to the task. Add to it that Orison was a teenager 'with the right look' and they were people from East Village, any further altercation was only likely to make a bad situation worse. It didn't feel good knowing that blatant favoritism from law enforcement due to discrimination was the mage's current best line of defense but truth was truth no matter how ugly.

For the last bit of time before Neil would swing by to pick him up, Orison contemplated the growing problem with the Tong and what would need to be done moving forward. It looked like there was a good chance that the Tong's neutrality would be temporarily suspended no matter what the local leader's personal thoughts were. With the only way to restore it being no better than impoverished servitude, Orison was obviously not willing.

Moving wasn't that much of an option. If he wanted to avoid a fight by running away, he'd have to keep running. He doubted things were much better elsewhere and outside of anyone's territory, he'd turn into free game for any group that got a hold of him first. Although it hadn't reached the point of 'join a society or die', it could. What's worse, insistence on being independent for as long as he could might severely limit his options and increase the prices he'd have to pay when he was finally forced to choose.

It occurred to him belatedly that he had made a crucial error during his first month in this world. Following old logic, once Orison had a breather, he'd immediately started trying to adjust and look for the 'way out'. The forces of a world weren't kind enough to see and leave alone an exploitable resource for long. The Tong had given him a valuable opportunity to understand the situation around him before he was forced to start making stands or compromises but he had spent it all on looking towards the next step at the cost of understanding where he currently stood.

The young mage suddenly realized being low key was a lot more than just not picking unnecessary fights and using abilities wantonly. It was also staying away from the direct light of day, living in the fringe and sacrificing comfort for freedom. That was where all of the knowledge he possessed as a 'modern man' wasn't helpful. Addictions to convenience and luxury, preconceived false notions of necessity and desire for social normalcy lead him straight into the lion's jaw.

Chuckling to himself, Orison conceded that even after making that discovery, he'd probably make the same mistakes again. He'd learn to be smarter about it, make himself a little less mainstream, but he'd fight for his creature comforts and the ability to enjoy all that a new world had to offer or there wouldn't be much point to it all. So what if he was greedy for civilization and its trappings? He'd just become the lion tamer and break the overgrown cat's teeth out! He had no doubt he'd lose a finger or two in the process but that was a price he was willing to pay.

When Neil finally picked him up, Orison found himself in a strangely good mood. The detective was quite the opposite. Aside from a few earlier newspaper clippings at the library of Joshua Stakes, his missing person, it was more like the man had never existed rather than disappeared. Health, school and legal records were all missing. A call to Mr. Carter verified in sub-textual conversation that Joshua would remain 'in identity limbo' until he was found.

Orison said, "It's protection. He wasn't an important person in the Masons, just a new recruit. They wont risk publicity for him. If he stays missing, he'll be erased by the people he expected to have his back when he was in need... is what I'd like to say. But truth is, Mr. Carter is trying to do something by blackmailing us to go look for the guy."

Neil said, "You can't call it blackmail if you're getting paid well."

"Let's agree to disagree on that one... Oh, here's a protective amulet. I got one too. Pretty stylish, right?" Orison said.

Glancing at the bronze coin dangling on a gold chain, Neil said, "Only gals and gangsters wear necklaces."

Frowning, Orison said, "If I threw this on the ground between two low ranking society members, they'd beat each other unconscious to get it. Mid rank would fight with money and high rank would fight halfheartedly with prestige. Why? There's not a lot of general purpose curse protections that work off the principle these do and it's got a little kinetic force deflection too.

"The faster the object coming towards it, the better it works. Unfortunately, I think that caps a bit before sound barrier which means bullets aren't exactly going to bounce off it. It's still going to knock them outward from the center point of the medallion. Since that's around the solar plexus, your legs aren't covered but the good news is, curses and shots that target legs and feet aren't really made to be fatal... typically."

Seeing that it would turn into an argument that would end with Orison getting his way anyway, Neil used a hand to slip it over his neck and tucked it between dress and undershirt. "If you were going to spring for a gold chain, you might as well made the disk gold too. This thing's going to stain my shirts."

Orison laughed. "Not friggin likely. Besides, I would have used gold if the coins weren't cast from a special bell. The details are only important to the maker. Just know that it's good stuff."

A quarter hour out of the city, as Orison was making a comment about their Derby Deluxe burgers, Orison's spirit sight picked up a thin boundary of some kind. It wasn't the rounded or clear edge of a magic circle. It was more jagged, like a crack in the air. The weak nature of it mixed with inert spirit essence meant that they were passing through it with the car before Orison could do more than notice it clearly.

All they felt was a faint push against them that had them slightly sink into their seats for a split second. Orison was surprised that Neil had even felt it but then realized it was probably the deflection of the medallion that had caused the pressure sensation to begin with. A quick question that confirmed Neil hadn't felt it in his legs confirmed.

On high alert, the next hour passed by silently as Orison didn't want to be distracted with casual chat. Getting fairly near their destination, Orison assumed that it was some kind of weird territory line and left it at that. A few minutes of chatting with Neil about how the detective handled these kind of investigations, they hit another boundary.

It came without warning and even Orison's spirit sense hadn't picked up on anything visually until both he and Neil were slammed into the seat with enough force to break the brackets holding it in place. The effect hadn't been quite as drastic for the detective as it had been for Orison who rolled over the top of the unsecured car seat and through the back glass. Aside from a few minor scrapes and bruises, the aftereffects of adrenaline induced shock were the only sign that he had been rolling on the pavement as the young mage picked himself up and staggered off the road.

Quickly pulling over, Neil got out of the car and ran to Orison. "You alright there, kiddo?"

Orison laughed weakly, "No biggie, just shook up a little. Remind me to change clothes on our way back out, though."

"What the hell was that about!?" Neil said, edgy from what happened.

The young mage shook glass out of his hair and robe hood before slapping a heal and heading towards the car. "Same as the first but stronger. Good news is that our medallions and the reinforcements in my gear are fairly effective. The bad news is that said enchantments aren't very friendly in cars when magic gets introduced to physics.

"As far as I can tell, the first is a weak boundary line caused by a minute separation of this chunk of land from the rest of the world. It's not bad but over time, it could turn into something pretty tragic... The second one is a bit like the magic circle outside of Rose Cliff, except messy and chaotic. It's not so much a clear border that holds special rules and more like a yellow line in the snow that's supernatural and mean spirited."

Shooting worried glances at Orison and then back at his surroundings, Neil said, "Look, kid. After that spill, if you want to call it a day..."

Orison shook his head. "This is your show, Neil. Do what you need to do so that when you face that Joshua guy's sister, you won't feel like scum. I'm just here for backup and I'm fine. But just so you know, you can call this any time you want."

Neil pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, we ain't going to be doing much of anything with a floating seat. Every hit of the gas or brake is gonna make me struggle to keep the car on the road."

Orison smiled. "Well, I'm going to show off for a second. Watch for traffic and randoms."

The young mage exercised his telekinesis to scoop up glass and plaster it back before mending it. Three mends later and it was serviceable until it could be properly replaced. Two more and the seat was passably re-bolted but still somewhat bent out of shape. With almost a quarter of his reserve used, Orison didn't feel in the mood for cosmetic repair. It worked for the time being.

With the intention of switching until they were safely parked again, Orison went to change out his clothing set. Before he finished the gesture, an instinct warned him not to. Feeling around for the reason, Orison realized that the inert essence pressure around them was so dense that his aura naturally compacted. If it was much stronger, mundane people wouldn't be able to survive for long. As it was, sickness, serious injury or advanced age would weaken their auras enough to cause casual contact with inert essence, costing them their lives.

With no other option, Neil rolled into town at a conservative 20mph. With a little less than two hours before they'd be heading back out of town at seven, the detective hit the ground running. While Neil did his thing, Orison was observing the people and the environment, attempting to maintain as much of a background character as possible. That ended up being a lot easier than he thought it would be.

Contrary to what Orison was expecting, the people were friendly. A little on the old fashioned side, with Neil asking after serious business, people shoved Orison into the 'children should be seen and not heard' category. Once done, and it was time to move on to the next potential source for clues, they would suddenly acknowledge his presence again. It wasn't to be dismissive of the teenager. It was the expected etiquette they had been raised to observe. Serious business meant kids stayed quiet and out of the way.

That suited Orison just fine. He had no real desire to interact with them and it left him free to observe them and their surroundings without the need for distracting, polite responses. Sadly, there was little to take note of.

The young mage knew they were in the territory of some scary thing or other but it was a background menace. The original concern Orison had for the people who lived there wasn't even as relevant as he had originally thought. As all living things are prone to do, the residents had somewhat unknowingly adapted to their hostile environment by producing a spiritual 'callus' around themselves to better lock their vitality in. This would produce the secondary effect of not being as appealing to supernatural predators compared to visitors who would be 'brighter' and seemingly more robust prey.

While the young mage marveled at the tenacity of life and nature's mysterious but practical mechanisms, Neil had narrowed Joshua's disappearance spot to one of two places. There was the boat rental rental place that could verify the man's journey out to a local tidal cave tourist attraction but had no witness to the man's return even though the boat had been signed back in. Suspiciously, the boat sign-in was the same minute that Joshua signed into the motel guestbook with money left under the bell.

Aside from some 'think they saw's that pointed Joshua as last being seen at the motel, the tidal cave trip seemed the real point of disappearance. As soon as Orison agreed with Neil's assessment, the detective shook his head with a smirk. Leaving Orison hanging, Neil wrapped up his first day checklist and started walking back to the car.

Once they were back on the road, going a safe 20 mph that would let them pass through the the 'rough' border without a repeat of the way in, Neil explained, "To the rookie, the evidence points to a destination unknown from the motel. To the nosy, it points to the tidal cave. If we went to the cave, we'd be in trouble. If we wrapped it up as an accidental drowning and called in the locals to troll the water, I have a feeling they'd probably find his body and that would be the end but I didn't."

Slightly annoyed, Orison asked, "Why not? I know you were just dying for me to ask that..."

Brows furrowed, Neil said, "This is my shtick. I played hopscotch in Loony Bird town with you. Humor me here."

Playing wide eyed, confused airhead, Orison asked with a dramatically overdone curious voice, "Oh, gee willikers! Why didn't you!?"

Neil glanced over at Orison with a smirk on his face. "Because I think he might still be ali-"

Orison's eyes widened with genuine surprise but it wasn't for the reason Neil thought as the young mage cut him off with a shout. "Moose!"