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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Broken Path, Starless Tail - 31. Chapter 31

“How in the hell would I have an appointment? Do I look like I have an appointment? Or know how to get an appointment?” Everyone else he’d met in this damn place had called him human or gawked at him.

“No one sees the Mages without an appointment,” the golem intoned.

“Make an exception. This is important. I—”

The golem cut him off. “No exceptions.”

There should always be exceptions. People in power were always about isolating themselves from those who had problems and actually needed help. It pissed him off, and the power he’d just learned he had crackled to life inside him. “Make one this time,” he bit off slowly through clenched teeth. “Or get someone here who can.”

“No—”

The lightning crackling off Beckett’s fingers exploded alongside his temper. It blasted against the door behind the golem and blew it to pieces. “And I said get someone down here!” he shouted. Lightning crackled over his skin, making all his hair stand up, but it didn’t hurt. He flexed his hands, ready to unleash his fury again.

Not that he meant to blow up the door, but the golem would be next if it said no exceptions again. A living being was going to speak with him, today, if he had to blast the tower down one part at a time.

Well, he heard something or someone coming from inside so clearly blowing up doors got him an appointment or something.

The large frog that hopped down the steps he could see through the open doorway was the last thing he expected.

“Who are you?” it asked.

Beckett had a hard time making out the words through its odd throat burble, the green dotted skin bulging and fluttering.

“My name is Beckett, and I came to speak to the Mage Council.”

“Do you—”

“I don’t have a damn appointment.” The lightning zapped the ground around him, cracking the stones of the courtyard. Beckett took a deep breath to calm down. “I was sent here on a mission by Parallax to find the star that was stolen from him. I need help getting back to him. Now can someone here help me or not?”

The frog hopped in a small circle. “Follow me.”

“Fucking finally,” Beckett said under his breath. The lightning died to a crackle that danced over his knuckles and lit his fingertips with sharp sparkles of power. He liked the feeling, so he didn’t try to push it down. Besides, there was no telling if he’d need to make another show of power or not.

Maybe Mr. Frog was not who he needed to impress to get some help.

 

They climbed circular steps going up the inside of the stone building for what felt like fifty stories. Beckett’s legs ached, and the stitch in his side made them have to stop several times to rest. Sweat dripped down his forehead. No matter how much lightning he had, he was not going to look like anything but an exhausted mess, so he let it go to conserve his energy.

By the time they stopped, all he wanted was water and to rest. Thankfully he had his flask. He fumbled it from his belt and drank deeply, glancing around. He almost dropped it when he realized the frog must have taken him directly to what made up the council.

They sat in chairs above him in a triangle. None human, and all stared with curiosity, anger, wonder, fear, boredom, confusion and more he wasn’t sure he could name without human facial features to pair up to them. Maybe that scaly being’s lips always curled up like that, or that short dude’s eyebrows were always drawn together in a unibrow hanging over tiny eyes paired with a slash of a mouth hidden in a scraggly purple beard flowing over black robes.

Beckett spluttered, choking on his water. He coughed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Sorry. You guys should put in an elevator or something.” Maybe that was why they had people make appointments, so they didn’t have to wait while everyone trekked up those damn steps.

“Why are you here?” squeaked a high-pitched voice. It belonged to a thin creature whose face was buried in a cowl too dark to see inside. It sat at the apex of the triangle to Beckett’s right. It did point a nearly skeletal hand at him covered with gray curved claws.

“The golem or Mr. Frog didn’t magically share that with you? I figured that’s how I got the audience.”

“Only fools interrupt a council session, or those with a death wish. Which are you?” The snort following the question that came from a being that resembled an orc from one of those classic dice game cards so closely Beckett wanted to laugh. She even had a bone in her high ponytail.

Well, at least these elitist jocks weren’t an all-boys club. “Neither. I told your golem and Mr. Frog that I’m on a mission for Parallax.” His name had evoked awe and help from many creatures, but I wasn’t sure about these council members so I left it at that. “The portal he sent me here through is broken, but I need to get back to him in the human world. My guide told me I needed your help.”

“Your… guide?”

“You are here alone. What guide?”

A being that was either a set of twins occupying the same chair or a being with two heads spoke at the same time, but Beckett was able to figure out what they both said. “He stayed outside of the city. Val is a dragon.”

The council member in the dark cowl hissed. “Dragon.”

Beckett narrowed his eyes. “He has saved my life, and I have saved his. Watch what you say.” His magic sprung to life.”

“You are not a human!”

Copyright © 2023 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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