Myrr: Reincarnated Timemage Assassin

Chapter 8: Useless

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[Frozen Wind of My Soul, Come Forth-Chill]

*Cli-*

I promised Mephis that I would show him my chantless magic the next time I saw him. That I would show him I wasn't useless.

I was wrong.

I am useless.

I can't change anything.

I can already see it happening.

My focus is distracted when I see myself failing the spell in the future.

Then the spell fizzles for real-

*Thud*

"NOOOO-!" My scream is mixed with his gasp. A blade enters Mephis's robe at the shoulder just as I saw it happen a second ago. The worthless gust of cold air I summoned has failed to blow away the dagger.

"Kkrrr..." Mephis grinds his teeth, holding his robe over the knife as his face turns white. His scarlet eyes snap around to his left, and find the source of our doom. He seems remarkably calm for a man who has a knife in his body. However, as someone who knows him, I can tell that he is anything but. Mephis is preparing to kill. He calls out into the shadowy trees, "So...you knew I'd go back to the village."

"It was too obvious." Someone else enters the picture. Coming out of the forest like a ghostly mirage, he has dark brown trousers and a tight shirt which conceals a small body. A tattered bandana winds around his face, but doesn't cover his dark eyes which stare out under us from his short black hair. "I've been waiting for you to make a move for two years now. Did you really think I wouldn't notice that something has changed? Mephis Blood-lock...I'm disappointed. I thought you'd understand me better than that."

"Heh...I don't understand the minds of twisted scum like you." Mephis grunts and turns to face the newcomer. "Jarold Westblade, why is an Enforcer all the way out here. How much did they have to pay you? I wasn't even aware that Lian's enemies had this much money!" My guardian is breathing heavily, he's trying to hide the pain, but his tense face cannot conceal everything. I have to do something...anything! Mephis is hurt, he can't do this alone! Think! THINK!

"Heh, you know what I've never understood about you, Mephis?" Jarold Westblade takes off his bandana. Underneath a pale face, with a small scar on his cheek, greets us. The tip of his small nose curves as he grins. "You're a Blood-lock. A beast who could conquer a kingdom singlehandedly if you just stopped holding back. And yet here you are. Playing nursemaid to a Blackrose Child. To be honest, I don't even care about him. I'll take him because I'm being paid, but I want you to know, the real reason I accepted this job was you."

"You'd kill an innocent child just to satisfy some sort of sick fantasy?" Mephis growls back while clutching his shoulder. He doesn't remove the knife, maybe he's scared of bleeding out. I think I read about that in my past life. Drawing his sword with his right hand, Mephis stays hunched over, but manages to put on a furious smile. "Let me get this straight. You, an Enforcer from Meirkeep, are jealous of me, a cursed Blood-lock fated to die in sin. That's why you're here?"

"Heh...bingo." The assassin's grin swallows us all up in his gaze, like a cat eyeing a whole chicken, "As someone born without the talent for magic, I had to work to obtain my skills. And even now, I couldn't match you if you had applied yourself. But you don't. Everyone talks about Mephis the Blood Warlock. Everyone fears him. And yet you're weak! A piece of trash who doesn't use or polish his skills! I can't abide it. Not one bit. You're wasting your potential!"