Brockton Bay's Marvelous Mage - Chapter Four (Patreon)

I was out of the shop and walking quickly down the sidewalk less than a minute after Alya reached out to me. I was hardly even paying attention to where I was going, letting my soul-bonded friend guide with the blowing wind. 

As I did, I made sure to duck into an alley or two, sliding on the black overcoat I picked up at a second-hand store. I had already pulled on my white shirt before I left, leaving me in a costume that vaguely paid homage to DC's Constantine. Love him or hate him, the newer versions of him rocked the punk, devil-may-care outfit. My get-up was a bit darker, lacked the red tie, and I covered my hair with a black beanie, but I had to stand out somehow. 

The last bit of my costume was my mask. 

I knew I would need one eventually, so I made it one night while I was bored, using a sheet of metal I bought for my geomancy. Normally, I wasn't the biggest fan of the idea of a secret identity, but having found myself in a reality with superheroes, I wasn't about to give up the advantage. I'm sure eventually I would fuck up, and my idnenty would leak, but until then, I would try my best to keep the mask on. 

The mask itself was copper, made by pressing the sheet of metal against my face after a steel absorption, using my enhanced strength and resiliency to mold it to my features. The result, after a few minutes of work, was a pretty decent, vaguely human mask. A quick metal-cutting spell later, and it was trimmed to cover my features completely. It curled up and around my jawline, primarily to hide my beard, but with enough room for me to open my mouth and talk. 

I cut the two eye holes last, before using my thumb to smooth over the edges, literally grinding down what would have usually been a dangerously sharp edge. It was attached to my head with straps from a hockey mask, comfortably and securely holding the metallic mask in place. 

Having examined myself in the cracked but mostly intact mirror of the shop bathroom, I knew it was intimidating but not creepy, at least in my opinion. It showed just enough human features to identify with but not enough to look overly detailed. It was also obviously a rough design, one I would probably ditch as soon as I could.

With the helmet seated, I picked up the pace, my heavy footfalls echoing down several alleys as I jogged to where Alya was leading me. Sure enough, as I turned the final corner to see Alya appear over a collapsed figure, sprawled on the ground. I cursed and ran the final distance, kneeling beside the man. 

"Sir? Are you conscious?" I asked before looking up at Alya.

"He is still breathing, but barely," She said, answering my unspoken question. 

"Well he is unresponsive… Fuck it," I said, rolling the man over, only to curse at what I saw. 

The man's shirt, a decent-looking outfit as far as I could tell, was littered with stab wounds, blood leaking out of them at an alarming rate. There were way too many to even think of just stabilizing him, and he didn't have the time for that. This man needed healing now, or it would be too late. I quickly put my hands on his stomach, where most but not all of the damage was done.

“Ad sananda vulnera quae hoc corpus penetrant.” I muttered, using a particularly powerful healing spell specifically designed for stabbing wounds. 

Both of my hands glowed, and several lines of energy extended outward from each of them, connecting to each of the man's wounds. When all of them were connected, disks of golden energy formed over each of them before sinking down into his skin. As the energy disappeared, five arcane symbols spun around each of my hands. After another long moment, I pushed the spell forward, activating the healing magic. This spell would continue to heal as long as I held it, so I closed my eyes and concentrated on the spell, maintaining the connection until I could feel each healing line pull away, their jobs done. 

"Imple corpus sanguine eget," I muttered, using a blood regeneration spell since a significant portion of his was on the ground or in his shirt. The healing spell I had used to fix the stab wounds had been very specific, so it didn't help that much with replacing what was lost.

When my final spell had run its course, I leaned back. The man's breathing slowly returned to normal, and, after a moment, his eyes fluttered open. I idly noted that Alya immediately swirled and vanished when the man's eyes began to open. For a moment, he looked around wildly, his eyes darting back and forth, before eventually locking on to me. 

"Jesus Christ!" He shouted, trying to crawl back away from me, his eyes wide with shock and fear. 

"Hey, relax, it's okay!" I said, holding up my gloved hands, trying to show I wasn't going to hurt him. '"I'm not going to hurt you!"

After a few seconds the man stopped, his eyes still wide as he looked at me, trying to decide if I was about to kill him or not. Eventually after a moment, he calmed down slightly, letting out a long breath.

"Well… you don't look like any E88 shit I heard of," He said. "Who are you?" 

"Don't really have a name yet, to be honest," I said. "Call me Mage for now."

"Well… Mage… What happened?" He asked, looking around at the alley.

"You tell me, I just found you here while… on patrol," I explained, the man looking back up at me. "I got here just in time to keep you from passing on."

That seemed to spark some sort of memory, because his eyes went wide again, and he hurriedly checked his body, hand sliding under his shirt, desperately checking where his wounds had been, only to find a bloody and shredded shirt covering an unmarked stomach.

"I… Those fuckers jumped me!" He said, followed by a long string of curses as he struggled to stand. "Those fucking Nazi fucks!" 

"Woah, woah, hold on there buddy, I get the anger, but you just recovered from losing a lot of blood, give-" 

The man managed to stand, only to immediately start to stumble backward. I rushed forward and managed to snag him before I was forced to heal him again, this time of head trauma. Thankfully my enhanced strength made it easy. I carefully helped him to the side of the alley, letting him sit on some sort of crate. 

"There you go, take it easy, don't worry, that will fade, your body is still catching up to your blood loss," I explained, the man nodding in understanding, though I think it was mostly just reflex. 

"Thank you, goddammit… that should have killed me... But you healed me, didn't you?" He said, looking up at me as his brain caught up with what was happening. "How? Sorry, wait, dumb question, you're a cape. You like Panacea or something? How come I ain't ever heard of you?" 

"I'm pretty new to the scene, pretty much the first night I've been out in this," I explained, tapping my mask "And yes, I'm a healer like Panacea, though from what I've read our powers are pretty different."

"Huh… first night, you say?" He asked, shaking his head. "Damn, ain't that just the devil's luck! Jumped in an alley and cut up like a sirloin, only for the newbie to stumble by and fix me up!"

He laughed for a long minute, and for a moment, I was worried he might turn manic and begin to freak out. I spoke up, trying to keep him from spiraling. 

"Listen, do you have a phone to call the cops or…?" I asked, looking down the alley nervously.

"What? Oh, there's… not much point in that, kid," He explained, shaking his head. "To many E88 sympathizers on the force, things tend to get lost when you call them out. And somehow, they always know." 

That was disturbing news. If there was that level of corruption in the police force, and by a cape-back group of Neo-Nazis? That was all sorts of fucked, and made me very wary of dealing with them in the future.

“That’s… disturbing to hear…” I responded, the man snorting at my understatement. "Though I gotta ask, you don't seem like their usual target demographic." 

The man, who appeared to be maybe ten or fifteen years older than me, so probably around forty, chuckled darkly and shook his head. His skin was certainly white, and I was pretty sure he had blue eyes, though it was a bit dark to tell. 

"I run a soup kitchen and homeless shelter on the outskirts of South Docks," He explained. "It used to be no man's land, but the E88 started to push into it during the fall. Now, they are trying to push the kitchens and shelters in the area to only cater to white folk. Worse, some of them started agreeing. It's all a load of bullshit."

"Shocking," I said in a flat voice, getting another snort from the man. "Well if you don't want to get the cops involved…" 

Before I could even start to leave, the man held out his hand, his eyes looking hopeful.

"Wait! Listen, thank you for healing my dumb ass… I can't believe how damn lucky I am…" He said, his voice trailing off before he shook his head and focused back on me. "I hate to ask more of you but… I gotta know… Could you heal more people?" 

I looked at him and frowned before realizing he couldn't see my frown, so I responded. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean, could you fix up more people?" He asked. "We get a lot of sick people at the shelter and kitchen, and we end up turning a lot of them away 'cause if we don't, whatever they got will only spread. Lots of injured people too, too hurt to work, people who can't afford insurance…'

As he trailed off I nodded in understanding. In all honesty, I had considered a similar idea already. I knew Panacea healed at Brockton Bay Central Hospital, and not long after I arrived, I considered going down there to see if I could help. A mix of fear and uncertainty concerning the repercussions had kept me from going through with it. Now, hearing that people who couldn't afford to go to the hospital, people who would never see Panacea, needed help? It was a good motivator, even though I thought his suggestion could use some work.

"You realize me showing up at your shelter would mean a hell of a lot of attention," I pointed out. "Lots of gang attention. Lots of Cape gang attention." 

"That's… a good point," He said with a frown. "I don't even know how I'm going to handle this." 

He admitted, pulling at his shirt, which was torn, cut up, and blood-soaked. 

"Maybe hire some security?" I suggested. "I bet you there are some homeless people out there willing to play bouncer for a reservation and food."

"... That's actually a pretty good idea," He admitted, rubbing his chin, clearly unaware he was spreading blood along his face. "I know a few boys who would jump at that…especially if I included a couple bucks under the table…"

For a moment, the man was silent, considering his new idea. I was just about to start retreating again when a thought occurred to me.

"What if I went out to them?" I asked. "I'm sure people group up, form communities? I could go out and meet them, heal whoever needs it, before moving on."

"That… would work, though it wouldn't get everyone…" 

"Once I get some reputation, I can come by and visit the shelters. By then, it will be clear I'm just helping the less fortunate, not just visiting your place specifically," I assured the man. "It would be safer for everyone involved if I just showed up randomly."

"What would you need from me?" He asked, looking at me seriously. "These folks need all the help they can get, so what can I do to help?"

For a moment, I considered saying nothing, but I realized I would have to cross a significant trust barrier, before people started to let me help them, especially with an unknown power. I knew my healing had no side effects and no drawbacks, but it would take a while for people to just trust me outright. 

"Would you be able to connect me to people?" I asked. "People those communities trust? A good word in the right ear will make this a lot easier." 

"Yeah… yeah, kid, I can do that," He said with a nod, his smile returning. "I know just who to start with. You give me a day or so to find some people, knock on some doors… I can do that for you." 

"Good, that's great. That would help immensely," I said. "I have a feeling those communities won't be quick to trust, but starting with a foot in the door would help me a lot."

"You don't know the half of it kid," He said, his energy growing again. "Maybe even get a couple guys to go with you, just in case. Nothing too obvious, but-"

"Actually, I would prefer you didn't," I said with a wince. "I can handle myself, and I'd rather run than try and fight anyone. Besides, a big group of people showing up will only make it harder to gain their trust."

"Well, now hold on, I'm not sure I feel comfortable leaving you alone with a crowd like that," He said with a frown. "Most of the homeless in this city are decent people, but there's always the assholes."

I chuckled, before jabbing my finger out, a bolt of electricity jumping from my digit and slamming into a nearby trash barrel, melting a thumb-sized hole in the side. I chuckled when I looked back at the man, his eyes wide and jaw hanging down. 

"I'm a bit of a grab bag," I explained. "I can take care of myself." 

"I… guess so," He admitted, looking back at me. "Well, Mage, I look forward to working together." 

"Same here, Mr…."

"Shit, my mom would slap me stupid," He said, shaking his head, sticking out his hand for me to take and shake. "Names Tony, Tony Capalli."

I chuckled and shook his hand, the man clearly excited about the good fortune he had somehow stumbled on. He quickly passed me a card, which had the address and name of his shelter and soup kitchen, Hope's Kitchen. I slid the card into my inner pocket, before promising to call him in a day or so. After that, we shook hands again and the man left, intent on heading home. 

I had Alya follow him back, just to make sure he made it there in one piece.