The Supreme Mage in a Loser's Body

Ch 15 - The Message in the Box

A thin metal plate rested inside the box, held above the wooden base by four small supports. Its surface was covered in shallow lines, with a dark patch near one corner where the metal had been damaged.

Evelyn kept the barrier raised. Helen moved to the side of the table, staying behind the light while she examined the plate without leaning over it.

“Is the trap still active?” Helen asked.

Kael followed the broken pattern around the open lid. The newer marks no longer formed a complete path, but some power remained in them.

“It can't release through the lid as it is now,” he replied. “Don't close it again.”

Helen told the staff member to note that instruction. Before the woman could finish writing, a pale line appeared across the plate.

A man's voice came from inside the box.

Kael's hand tightened against his knee. He knew that voice from mornings at Black Sky Peak, when Orlan would wait outside his study until he received permission to enter. The servant had spoken carefully even when delivering ordinary news. Now his words came quickly, with short pauses between them as though he was listening for someone nearby.

“The vessel has been found,” Orlan said through the plate. “It is no longer where it was prepared. Do not attempt the crossing until you know where they have taken it.”

Kael leaned forward before remembering the others in the room. He stopped with his hands still on his knees.

Evelyn glanced at him. The words meant nothing to her; he could see it in the way she listened for a familiar sound and found none. Orlan was speaking a language Kael had used long before he knew Earth existed.

“Record this,” Helen said quietly.

The staff member lifted a small recorder while the pale line continued across the plate.

“There are people in this world feeding it power taken from others,” Orlan said. “Small pieces, brought separately. I cannot tell how much it has received, but they intend to keep it alive.”

Kael thought of the face he had seen in the black glass. The image had shown him the body without explaining where it was or whether anyone occupied it. Orlan's warning gave him part of the answer, though he could not know how much had changed since the message was made.

His vessel had been moved before he called upon Soul Crossing at the summit. He had trusted a destination that was no longer secure.

“I followed the men who arranged the transfer,” Orlan said. “The one giving the orders was—”

The voice broke into a harsh scrape. Light gathered at the damaged corner of the plate, flickered twice, then went out.

Kael waited. He could hear the recorder running and Evelyn shifting her grip on the barrier device, but no more words came from the box.

“Is that all?” Helen asked.

He studied the darkened corner. Several fine lines ended in the damaged patch instead of reaching the edge. The message had stopped where the pattern could no longer carry it.

“The plate is damaged,” Kael replied. “Don't put more power into it. You could destroy what's left.”

Helen held up a hand when the staff member started toward the table. The woman stopped beside the recorder instead.

“You understood him,” Evelyn said.

Kael sat back. Orlan's unfinished sentence kept returning to him, but he could not let them see how much he wanted to hear it completed. A servant from his own home had left this warning on Earth. Whether Orlan had survived long enough to leave anything else was a question for later.

“Some of the language appears in the marked contracts,” Kael replied. “I recognize it.”

Helen looked from him to the box. “Enough to translate?” she asked.

“What we heard, yes,” Kael replied.

He gave them the message in plain words, leaving out nothing Orlan had actually said. He did not tell them whose vessel it was or why a warning recorded eighteen years earlier had finally opened for Ethan Cole.

Evelyn listened without interrupting. Helen asked the staff member to write the translation beside the recording details.

“When he says vessel, does he mean a container?” Helen asked.

“In this message, he means a body,” Kael replied. “Something prepared to hold power. He says it was taken from its original location.”

Helen's pen stopped above the page. “A living person?” she asked.

“The message doesn't tell us its condition,” Kael replied. “Only that people are keeping it alive.”

He could not explain more without exposing the part of the warning meant for him. Orlan had avoided names until the final sentence, perhaps because he knew the box might fall into the wrong hands. The damage had taken even that last name from them.

“And the crossing?” Evelyn asked.

“A journey to it,” Kael replied. “Whoever recorded this was warning someone not to arrive without checking the destination.”

Helen set the pen down. “You understand why I find this difficult,” she said. “A box we couldn't open responds to you. You understand a recording none of my staff can translate. Yet you can't tell me who taught you.”

“I haven't said I can't,” Kael replied.

Evelyn lowered the barrier after another check of the box. She placed the device on the table within reach, then pulled her chair closer.

“He's still answering what he came here to answer,” she said. “We know more about this object than we did an hour ago.”

Helen looked at the plate again. Kael could almost see her weighing the unanswered questions against the information on the page.

“Keep the box here,” she told the staff member. “No further tests until we've reviewed the recording.”

Kael watched the woman place warning labels beside the tray. He wanted to keep the plate close, but taking it would only give Helen a reason to treat him as a threat. The Bureau could preserve it better than the damaged shop, provided nobody tried to force the missing words out of it.

“I'd like to examine that corner again when I'm rested,” he said. “Without adding power.”

Helen nodded toward the table. “That brings us to what happens next,” she replied.

She brought the notes from his test and laid them between them. The harmless stones, the broken rod, and the box had each been recorded separately. His name appeared at the top of the sheet.

“We need help with objects like these,” Helen said. “You can identify things our equipment misses. I'm prepared to offer you a limited working agreement.”

Kael waited while she drew a blank sheet from a folder.

“You examine objects we approve for your review,” she continued. “You tell us what they do and how they can be handled safely. In return, you have supervised access to confiscated items relevant to the Circle of Ash investigation.”

“And legal protection?” Kael asked.

“Our legal staff can handle attempts to enforce the fraudulent loan and threats connected with your cooperation,” Helen replied. “Your work here will be documented. That doesn't give you permission to use magic against people whenever you choose.”

Kael looked down at the bruises above his wrist. “I came for records proving we had paid,” he said. “Your report should say that.”

“It does,” Evelyn replied. “Along with what happened afterward.”

Helen added another line to the sheet. She did not ask him to agree until she turned it so he could read it himself.

“The protection for my family stays separate,” Kael said. “If we disagree over an object, your people don't leave the shop.”

“That remains as agreed,” Helen replied.

He read farther. There were limits on removing objects and on examining them without a staff member present. He expected those. Near the bottom, the space for payment was empty.

“What does the work pay?” Kael asked.

Helen glanced toward Evelyn before answering. “We haven't set a f*e yet,” she replied.

“Then we should,” Kael said. “My father needs treatment. The collectors took money that should have paid for it. Clearing the debt doesn't put that money back.”

He had once owned stores of rare stones worth more than the building around him. None of that could buy Thomas a better brace or replace the equipment broken in the shop. He could not keep spending days on the Bureau's problems while Elena covered the family's costs with grocery shifts.

“You would be paid for completed examinations,” Helen said. “The amount would depend on the work.”

“Agreed before I begin,” Kael replied. “And time spent finding that an object is harmless still counts. Your staff needed that answer too.”

Evelyn pulled the test sheet closer and pointed to the metal holder. “He saved us from testing the wrong item again,” she said. “That was useful work.”

Helen wrote a figure beside the first session and showed him. Kael considered it against the repair fees Daniel had offered and the hours he could manage while injured.

“Include today's examination and the translation,” he said.

Helen amended the note. “Both,” she replied. “Future visits will have a minimum f*e, with additional work agreed separately.”

Kael nodded and read the terms once more before signing. Helen signed beneath him, then had a copy made for him to take home.

He had been treated with suspicion when he entered. That had not disappeared, but there was now a written reason for him to return and a way to earn money without pretending his body could handle another day of repairs.

Evelyn collected the loose test sheets while Helen reviewed the list of confiscated items.

“Before you go, is there anything you need to examine these safely?” Helen asked.

Kael considered the faint reserve in his core. “A small amount of usable energy,” he replied. “My core is nearly empty. I can't safely remove a dangerous mark in this condition.”

Helen looked at him carefully. “You want access to a charged object,” she said.

“One you've already cleared,” Kael replied. “I can draw only what this core holds. You can measure it before and after.”

She asked the staff member to bring a low-charge practice stone from the testing room. It arrived in a holder with its reading written on a tag. Unlike the mixed objects on the table, it carried a steady flow with no command attached to it.

Kael rested two fingers against the stone after Helen gave permission. He drew the power slowly, stopping when the small core reached its limit. It was enough for brief protection or a little support for his body, not both for any length of time.

The staff member checked the stone again. Helen compared the result with the earlier core reading and made a note on his work sheet.

“Any use of stored power will be recorded,” she said. “Ask before taking it.”

“I just did,” Kael replied.

Evelyn looked down at the papers to hide a brief smile. Kael removed his hand from the stone and reached for the copy of the agreement. His ribs still hurt when he moved, but at least he would no longer leave with nothing in reserve.

Helen returned to the open box. “We'll make another copy of the recording for analysis,” she said. “When you come back, I want to go through the translation one phrase at a time.”

Kael agreed. He would have asked to hear it again even without payment. Somewhere beyond that damaged sentence was the person who had taken the body he prepared, and perhaps an explanation for what had been done to Ethan.

Evelyn's phone rang as she gathered her device from the table.

She checked the screen and answered at once. “Maya?” she asked.

Kael stopped folding the agreement. He could hear his sister speaking, but not the words. Evelyn turned away from the table, pressing the phone closer to her ear.

“Slow down,” she said. “I'm with Ethan. Tell me what happened.”

Kael put the paper down and reached for the edge of the table to stand. Evelyn saw him and switched the call to speaker.

Maya's breathing came through in short, uneven bursts.

“Men came wearing hospital uniforms,” she said. “They took Dad from the shop.”