As Medea watched, James retrieved something wrapped under a thin cloth from beneath the bed. Delicately, he placed it down on the table and delicately, he unfurled the wrapping to reveal a well-kept Springfield 1903 bolt-action rifle with the initials 'MS' carved into the gun's rosewood stock.
He gave it a once-over, then flipped it about and checked it again. As before, there was no ammunition anywhere in sight, and now, far calmer, Medea was able to note a good few things about her new Master.
"A Mystic Code?" The words left her purplish lips as a whisper.
"I believe so," James said, not turning to face her. "This old girl is one of the first of its kind, so my old man always said. But it ain't nothing special so far as magecraft goes. All I did was attune it so that it reinforces easier."
There was only so much one could glean from a passing magus looking to kill time before the latter got bored and went on his way. Pursuing the craft further became a tad harder when the number one authority in the world on the matter had a thing against Yankees and a youngling nation with no respect for its betters.
But that was fine, he could make do with the hand he'd been dealt.
Modern weaponry offered better alternatives than this heirloom he'd converted, but this particular Springfield was over a hundred years old, and age meant much when it came to magecraft. Far be it from James to not make an advantage of that.
Medea eyed the rifle from over his shoulder, some part curious, some part desperate to prove herself to this man she'd attached herself to for his nature.
"You've made it so that individual aspects can be reinforced and... made it more receptive to influence from other spells." Medea noted, then immediately seemed to regret her actions and backed away.
James didn't understand why. It was to be expected that a 'witch' from ancient times would be far better at magecraft than anyone from their time. Magecraft had decayed and become limited over time, not improved.
"All I know's reinforcement, gradation air and structural analysis. It ain't much, I know, and I wasn't raised to be the sort of man whose ignorance upsets him, ma'am. If you got somethin' to teach me, it'd be much obliged."
Medea became confused, then she smiled, "Magi are often conceited about their craft, that is their downfall."
James raised a brow at that. She was a magus too. He kept his thoughts to himself as she continued.
"Your knowledge is limited, but you seem to have a good grasp over what you do know and that will have to be enough. For now," She held out her hand. "allow me."
-
It had turned out to be quite the cold morning, the wind flew fairly briskly, and the Sun already hid behind grey clouds at high noon. That didn't mean James didn't enjoy the day. He'd had breakfast at some fast food place that offered a couple's discount which he'd been happy to avail for the cash it saved, but Medea seemed far happier about it than he was.
The so-called 'witch' was practically glowing, having forgone her gloomy hood and cloak for a black high-neck sweater and a long tan skirt that ended just above her ankles. Her purple hair fell to her back, decorated by a single braid. She seemed awfully skittish as they treaded up the hill path on the way to the Fuyuki Church.
So far, this war was looking about as interesting as he'd hoped when the old magus he called teacher pointed him this way. He'd seen some curious things, found a beautiful woman who seemed keen on getting to know him (even if her past was a matter of some concern), and all in all, even if his servant ran away, he was still enjoying himself.
He had helped a witch on day one expecting her to disappear on him after she was well but she'd decided to stay and even help him win the war. There was no reason to say no.
Medea even improved his rifle, reducing it to a simple pen tucked in his breast pocket that would change into its real form as soon as he ran some mana through it. Then, the woman had gone above and beyond, designing a revolver that mirrored the Colt Single Action Army 1873 model with all the capabilities of his rifle, just to a subdued degree.
Hell, if his mama didn't raise him better, he'd have just asked her to marry him right then and there.
His musings were interrupted when Medea made a sudden squeak, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear as she looked about squeamishly. The poor thing looked like her heart was about to leap from her chest.
"What would you do if I told you I killed my former master?"
James raised a brow, and slowed his pace.
"Well, I'd have to ask you why you done did it in the first place."
She clenched her fists, head ducked low, "He cast me aside... He was sacrificing children. A...And he tried to make me commit suicide when I... destroyed his workshop."
"That's that then." He shrugged.
Medea followed in silence, mouth hung open in disbelief.
"That's it? You're not mad?"
"Ma'am, this world don't care none for you or me or anybody." James put a hand over his hat. "Now, I'd much prefer that I make someone not feel that for a moment or two. But, there's no denying folks who derive a sort of enjoyment from the opposite. I don't much like them folks. And I don't feel much of nothing for their plight either."
Harming children was among the greatest of taboos. There was no world where James Sullivan would hold hurting that kind of disgusting creature against anyone.
"If you weren't here, I'd have shot the darn bastard myself. So, be proud. Ain't no shame in what you did."
There was even an age-old tradition of rounding up such characters and dealing with them as God intended back where he lived. Everyone slept easier for it.
Medea gripped his shirt from behind, and murmured faintly.
"...Thank you."
"You're welcome. Now tidy up. We're at the Church."
James eyed the well-kept Church with a hand on his belt. It was an expensive-looking building, clean and shiny-like, with long clear windows, sloped, grey roofing and a bell tower pointing at the sky with a cross at its peak. Someone clearly took care of the place, judging by the neat shrubbery all along the cobbled path leading to its dark, sleak double doors with a mahogany finish.
The Church was meant to be the quarters for the overseer of the ensuing Holy Grail war and he'd been directed to check-in before anything else. The 'overseer' himself was a representative of the Catholic Church, and alongside his station here, was a man of the cloth.
To James, that warranted due respect until or unless he had reasons otherwise.
Manners maketh man.
He took off his hat, and slowly made his way up to the stairs before respectfully, gently pushing open the door to the smell of incense and oil.
As a properly raised man, a Texan man, he'd been to churches often and so far this one was no different. It even reminded him of home to some extent. Medea, on the other hand, hissed like some sort of upset cat, gripping his arms with both hands.
Beyond the pews, a well-built, stocky man stood beside the altar, Bible in one hand and the other neatly tucked behind his back. He had long dark hair down to his neck, and a distinctly empty gaze that made James stand on alarm. He was tall, and his long, dark coat, parted just enough to reveal his priestly collar and a golden rosary, did nothing to hide a body honed through strenuous exercise and discipline.
James bowed politely, hat over heart, "Evenin', father."
"Well met, my son. How may I help you today?"
"James Sullivan. I was told to meet with you before getting 'round to anythin' else."
"Ah. A Master." A thin smile crossed the priest's face. "Please, call me Kirei. Take a seat, I will inform you of the due process." His eyes wandered to Medea. "And this must be your servant... Miss...?"
Medea didn't deign to respond. Instead, she glared at the man before fading into the air in wisps of mana.
"Excuse her, father." James made a faux apology, sitting down on the frontmost pew.
Kirei gave a small smile. He closed his holy book and turned his full attention to James.
"No matter. I can not blame her for her secrecy regarding this affair."
-
Hope you enjoyed.
This one's a bit wobbly in my head but you can see my mind's shaking off the rust.
Give some cooments... and them powerstones too if you want an extra chapter. Say, 100? Too presumptuous? Too presumptuous.
Hop on the discord server, it's fun, trust
https://discord.com/invite/MSJgg9DE2M