#41 part 2

"That's not your wand," I said sternly as I stepped toward him, hand outstretched. With my other hand I motioned to the chaos around us, the growing destruction and death, the fear on everyone's faces. "That's not your wand. You might believe that it is, but do you know it is, feel it is? Does it call to you, sing to you, promise you anything and everything? A pen might be your wand, but not that particular pen."

He paused and stared at the plastic pen, the reverence he formerly held for the object slowly disappeared from his eyes. He dropped to his knees and tossed the pen aside, sending it clattering down the asphalt. "So what's happening to me?" he said, "I've never felt anything like this before, never had anything like this happen before. I'd always known I had magic, tingling just below the surface, but I'd never tapped into it until now. And now, I can't turn it off."

It was my turn now to shrug my shoulders. "That's magic," I said, "Most folks are just Tier 1 or 2, magical powers nowhere near as strong as yours. Hell, some Tier 1 don't even use their power because it's more draining than just doing the task manually. They can channel their power through random, everyday objects. At Tier 3 and 4 though, the 'wand' you need to channel your power needs to be a specific object, something you are drawn to or might hold a certain sentimental value. At Tier 5, the highest and most powerful magic users need a very, very specific object to channel their power, something like a family heirloom, passed from one generation to the next."

Slowly, I reached behind my back to reveal an old Colt revolver. Immediately, I felt the man's magic start to swirl faster, hostile. "Easy now. Let's take it easy," I said, holding the gun by it's barrel. "Do you have anything like this? I'm a Tier Five. This gun has been in my family for generations. It's my great, great, great grandfather's. He was an officer, too. Whenever they would talk about him, they would say that he served his entire career without firing a single shot. That his focus was on protecting everyone, that everyone could be saved." I felt the magic around us start to slow as he relaxed a little. I let out a short laugh, "I can only use it to control my power as long as the gun remains intact, bullets and all. I can't even shoot with it or it becomes useless."

The man stared at the gun, then shook his head. "We came here when I was three, my family and I. My mother brought us over to escape the war. I barely remember what home was like, or even where it was. We were refugees. We were poor. Moved around a lot. We didn't keep anything that we couldn't carry, couldn't help us to survive."

I let out a sigh. Without a wand, there was no way to control his power, to keep it from lashing out of control whenever he was tempted to use it, or whenever it might accidentally get away from him. I took a quick glance at my wrist and saw the screen was bright red, "Tier Five" printed in bold black.

Shit, I thought as I looked back to the man. His eyes reflected the fear that was growing in me. I put the gun back behind my back and quickly grabbed his shoulders, staring into his watery eyes. "Let's relax, we just need to figure out what your wand might be and where to find it and we can put this whole mess behind us. I want you think back on a happy memory, a memory that resonates strongly with you. The object is has to be hidden within that memory, I guarantee it."

Lies. All of it lies as I watched him hesitantly shut his eyes, his magic the encircled us starting to settle into a still haze. I almost didn't go through with it. I watched a smile spread on his face, the swirling magic slowing, almost disappearing. He opened his mouth, probably to describe what he was seeing. At least that's what the other one did, and I hesitated back then. But I learned my lesson from the last time. With 30,000 dead at my feet, I promised I wouldn't hesitate again. Before he could speak, I tapped the back of his neck twice and then dove to the side. With my revolver in hand, I unleashed my power in a wave, a torrent of red rising out of me and suppressing the remaining blue magic still in the air. I could feel his magic react defensively, attempting to rise back up to protect him from an unknown threat. I forced it back down, giving Lee a clean line of sight through my rifle's scope. The man opened his eyes just as the bullet passed through the base of his neck and the crack! of the gun echoed through the empty street. He was dead before he hit the ground.

I pulled my service pistol and pointed it at the dead man, waiting for the slightest twitch. A couple seconds passed before I got the courage to tap his feet with my boot. Limp. "Good kill, Lee," I said in the walkie as I holstered my weapon and motioned for the rest of the team to move in to contain the scene. Officers, paramedics, and other personnel flooded onto the scene as I stepped out of the way.

"Looks like that bastard got exactly what he deserved." I turned to find Officer Grant standing next to me, a bag of ice on his shoulder.

I punched him in the stomach, hard, doubling him over. I debated putting my boot to the side of his head, but I wanted him awake for this next part. "Don't be an asshole. It's not his fault that he turned out to be a Tier Five, especially in his situation. But the law is clear, especially after The Hobbs Incident: A Tier Five without a wand, without control, is a threat on the scale of mass destruction." I turned and walked away, furious at that asshole Grant, but mostly at myself, thinking about my heirloom and the legacy I wanted so much to follow. That next time, I hoped I would find a way.



Thanks to Reddit Writing Prompts: "Magic is available to everyone, and everyone has their own unique magical signature... The issue comes in finding the correct tool to channel it" Originally, this was just an action story, where the main character would somehow loose his tool to control magic, only to unleash it wildly and defeat his enemies. Then I got bored of that idea and started to think about what if you weren't able to find your tool to channel magic, what would life be like then? This is actually a lot longer than what I'm allowed to post on Reddit, and even that one needed to be shortened due to length. I went over it another time, making it more of what I wanted before deciding to split it into 2 parts so it's easier to digest. As for the title, "#41", after writing it, it reminded me of an X-Men story I'd heard about, where Wolverine kills a kid because he's too dangerous (I think you could probably Google "Wolverine kills kid"). Turns out its Issue 41 of Ultimate X-Men, so I thought I'd just use that as the title (plus I couldn't think of one).