The city known as Abyss: Jaeger's shot in the beyond

Chapter one: Fusion of delusion

The universe was vast, countless possibilities layed into a world of countless people, causing it to sprout powerful people and yet also those that died young. All was possible, and yet only to some.

Jaeger was someone who lived amongst turmoil his entire life and yet unlike most was lucky enough to survive these endless turmoil's. He walked amongst old buildings, the only proof of his movement amongst the night a cloud of smoke in his wake and a dim light just ahead of his mouth.

Jaeger like some was born with powers, but not the strongest powers sadly. This left him not able to join the large groups of power driven organizations, and yet was just enough to make people not want to associate with him: I.e. fucked.

Rain endlessly fell upon the lands, the sound of pattering had long ago in history become a white noise to the city. Jaeger listened though; he heard it where others forgot about it. Why? because like a friend it was always with him.

18, he was finally what was considered an adult and was very intelligent for his age. Reading books of old, reading of magic long lost, these were things payed to him for the work he did.

Investigation. That was his main job, and people commissioned him to look into things that they couldn't publicly. He knew many secrets, and in turn nobody higher up touched him because of it. Why? Because he also sold information if the purpose fit the situation.

However this came at a cost, if someone payed him to never spill his guts someone else might try and beat it out of him. Right now, that was most certainly the case with every person he had known. Secrets; what devious and yet incorporeal things.

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An old man looked up from his basement window, old Victorian styled buildings raced to the sky with some still in the process of being built. He was a tired old man, one with secrets to tell but nobody to listen to them apart from the silent sky scrapers that scratched the skyline and high clouds. Magic was apparent in the world alongside users with powers, but conveniently the users with powers had lulled the masses into believing that magic was a heresy. Powers however, were gifted by the gods to chosen.

Assholes.

The old man turned around from the basement window peppered with rain. He sighed, looking over an old book that was layed out on an old dark oak table.

The book detailed ancient magic's, this of course in the eyes of the upper populace was treasonous and heretic. The funny thing was that everyone was born with affinities to certain elements.

Fire, earth, air, water of course or the rare ones, metal, lightning, darkness, light, life, beasts, spirits. The old man had a particular ability to commune with the dead with his affinity for life. He could draw on the last bits of life, ancient or recent, and call forth the apparition of the departed. This was both an art of necromancy and an adept and innate ability to life force. The old man because of this affinity had lived a life longer than most.

He just sat in front of his chair when the door leading into the basement from the room above was opened silently, a figure soaked and dripping in rain water walked down the steps stopping when it saw the old man.

He lifted his wrinkled brows not in surprise but curiosity.

"You with the inquisitors? I won't say anything so just kill me. I am old anyway."

What kind of words were these from an old man?

The man shook his head, walking over and pulling a dusty chair over to the table.

"I am an investigator…took me a while to follow your footsteps but I found ya. I ain't here to kill you, I merely find things. Why is someone looking for you?"

"You don't seem the brutal inquisitor type…what if I was some dangerous person?"

"I'm pretty sure someone who pays their rent on time, lives in the poorest floor of the city, helps those around them and has pictures of a family from long ago ain't some type of person to be dangerous. It be a tough ruse, and I have seen quite a few in my short years around…" He motioned a cigarrete, and the old man nodded he could smoke.

He then took out a thin crystalline card, it was a magical device.

Those that used magic as mages were heretics, but those that crafted magical items and grew magical plants were seen no different than botanists and engineers. Pretty hypocritical, but it wasn't his problem to deal with politics anyway.

The old man gave him a look as if he was burrowing through him with his knowledgeable eyes, he nodded and the man hit the switch activating the recording device.

"My name is Isaiah Crowell, and I come from a hidden clan far away from this massive city stretching 100's of miles…we were an underground organization bent on discovering the secrets of magic…as you know, the mage wars are occurring right now several thousand miles from here. The people here ruled by those with power, but there are those that rule with magic…and so the war has gone on a long time, we were in the median zone of the war…and the war pulled us into it, after many battles to say the least we were nearly wiped out…several kin of mine made it away, while I fled towards here to discover what I could of the other side. That was nearly 30 years ago…"

"You've been here that long? Wouldn't you have discovered enough to go back?"

"When my kin left, they planned on changing their names and hiding out in one of the major mage cities. I wouldn't be able to contact them if my life depended on it, and nor would I because…the inquisitors found me not long after I came here, and because of that if I did go back I would only lead them through secret tunnels going beneath the war. I would die directly going through the battle fields so? I couldn't go back…I have slowly mastered the art of our clan, working upon it in secret here as I study the societies around."

"I see…Why have you gone on so long? What have you achieved to make them hell bent on killing you and asking what you know?"

"Because…that magic my clan created was a rare one. Enchantment based with heavy influences of transmutation…I just haven't found the right catalyst or person to give it to. We are also sadly blessed by fate with things that have occurred…that is why I haven't died so far or so I assume."

"What catalyst would you need?" He was quite curious about all that in which the old man Isaiah was saying. He hadn't met many mages at all, supposedly they had an underground circle in the city but nobody knew where. Even the investigator would be hard pressed to find them.

"Someone who has the power of transmutation…and yet, a spirit."

"You don't say…"

"Seems fate really does have tricks to play…what power do you hold boy?" The old man was letting on to many things, if he wasn't talking then he felt this man might very well keel over after he left. What was the point in not telling him what cards he had?

"I have a spirit I can summon…it's a frog. When I am outside it is a fog frog if I so choose, and can change rain to fog…dumb right. Already have enough of that around…the second ability of it is that what it consumes it becomes and I can shoot it through this gun here…"

He tossed a revolver onto the table. A small mist appeared next to it, and a frog popped out. It looked around and up at the man as if it was hungry.

He looked around and picked up a rubber end to a walking stick thrown around the basement and popped it into the frog's mouth. The frog turned black and elastic. It then hopped over to the revolver and squeezed into the space that bullets would be placed which was modified to be a large empty cylinder.

He picked up the gun and with a pull the frog within shot out 3 rubber bullets from its mouth in proportion to the rubber it ate. He set the gun down, and the frog hopped out looking as it did before.

"How much it eats, is how much it shoots out. Can't eat a lot either, enough for 6 bullets at most….if I don't shoot things out from its mouth, it stays what I gave it in material…but only material, and nothing magical. No group will accept or train me as they find it too dumb of a power…a spirit one at that, which they seem to dislike just as much as the ability it has. I call him Frog. He eats a lot…I'm Jaeger." A mist appeared next to the frog, and he leapt into it disappearing in a wisp that faded in the air.

"Fascinating…" Isaiah was very intrigued by such ability.

"Really? Most people look down on it" Jaeger shrugged.

"No…no…its good." The old man nodded sincerely. Jaeger actually, felt thankful?

"It is a transmutation ability…quite fitting for what I needed, whata ya say? Wanna give my magic a try? This old man doesn't have much left of a life to live…might as well give it to someone, you can choose to give it to whoever hired you or not."

"I…" Jaeger didn't like to get in deep with stuff, but this old man was different. He was of two worlds, but could not be a part of either of them much like Jaeger. Why not give him a last wish? What's the worst that could happen?

"Yeah sure old man…why not" Jaeger glanced over the tome on the table, "This it?" He asked curiously, looking at its old wrinkled bindings.

"Yeah…this is it, well kind of…the book is just a catalyst. You see, it is inscribed on every page with magical formula, kind'ove like arrays or runes…a lot of them, it took every single one of those pages to make this magical ability."

"Wait, magical ability? I thought you mages have innate affinities, and can train to heighten your manipulation over them depending on whatcha got? How could it MAKE a 'Magical ability'?"

"You see…that's why they want it so bad; it is a new combination of magic and power. It is an art of 'Bestowal' of a power, think about how great a discovery that is?" He said it like he was describing the weather, but it hit Jaeger like a brick shit house to find out about.

'Who the hell really is this old man…?' Jaeger was still deeply processing the implications of what this old man was saying, this was too heavy of a weight almost and yet he stayed where he sat listening as the old man continued.

"You see…it kind'ove has its own qualities though. Never works the same for all people, it all depends on what you start with; it acts as a foil to such powers and prowess. With you…I have my guesses. It was already meant for someone with transmutation like abilities…it's…you could say the focal point of the magic itself."

Jaeger nodded, "I kind'ove understand. Whatever flavor you start with, is going to be the main component of the flavor you end with. Bad analogy, but I understand regardless."

"Good…it's real simple to use, in fact it was meant to be. I… am sorry to inform you, that the rest of my clan most likely have spread their own versions of this type of magic out. However…only I created this book, this is of my own sole creation. Go over to it, cut your hand and spread it across. The process will begin from there on its own."

Jaeger stood up, lighting up a smoke as he pondered.

"What will happen to you after I take it?" Jaeger looked at the book, but spoke to the man as he was deep in thought.

"Well kid…I can finally rest. That's about all I care to do." He said it, adding a sigh to prove the fact.

"How does the magic work once I use it? Do you know the power it creates now that you know my own? Since of course you made it, you must know what it does?"

Jaeger puffed away, and yet when he turned his head through the smoke the old man was gone.

Looking around there was no way the old man could've got past him and up the stairs, 'Where the hell did he go?'

Jaeger looked back down at the book, "Fine…I will keep it for now…damn." Jaeger shoved it under his jacket. Putting out the cigarrete, he blew the dim lights out in the room and tread up the stairs closing the door to the basement behind him.

An old man was watching him leave, the old man from before now didn't look as aged and in fact stood up right. He looked to a ghost beside himself, "Think it will work?" he asked silently.

The ghost was a robed man, who looked more ancient then Isiah, "Yes…he will be the one. I can feel it"