The Supreme Mage in a Loser's Body

Ch 3 - Magic in the Iron Ring

Rafe drove the knife toward Kael's stomach.

Kael stepped outside the blade and caught the collector's wrist with both hands. He could not stop the larger man's arm through strength alone, so he turned with it and forced it down against the edge of the worktable. The knife struck wood before it slipped from Rafe's fingers.

Rafe tried to pull away. Kael pressed his forearm across the trapped elbow, keeping the man's hand flat against the table.

“Move again and you lose the arm,” Kael said.

The collector stopped struggling. His two men remained near the doorway, neither willing to come back for him.

Kael slid the black ring off Rafe's finger. Cold spread through his fingertips as he closed his hand around it, followed by an uneasy feeling that did not belong to him. His stomach tightened. For a moment, he felt the urge to duck his head and beg someone to stop.

He recognized the effect and kept the energy outside his body.

A tiny stone sat beneath the ring's flat metal face. It held traces of fear, gathered from people who had been frightened near it. The ring had stored those feelings as power. Kael had seen objects built for the same purpose in the Nine Realms, though this one held very little.

Rafe stared at his closed hand.

“Give that back,” Rafe said.

Kael pushed the knife farther across the table, out of the collector's reach.

“You should be more concerned about getting out of this room,” he replied.

“It isn't yours,” Rafe said. He tried to straighten, then stopped when Kael increased the pressure on his elbow.

“Neither is anything you broke here,” Kael replied.

He wanted to ask where the ring had come from, but his hands were beginning to shake. Keeping Rafe trapped required too much effort. If the collector noticed, the fight could start again, and Kael had almost nothing left to spend.

He released the arm and stepped back with the ring in his fist.

Rafe turned, holding his wrist against his chest. His gaze moved from Kael to Thomas, then to Maya beside the wall.

Kael shifted into his line of sight.

“The next time you attack anyone in this family, you won't walk out as you are now,” Kael said. “Take your men and leave.”

The collector backed toward the doorway. One of his men put a hand beneath his elbow, but Rafe shoved it away.

“Marcus will destroy this family,” Rafe said. “You think today was bad? Wait until he hears about this.”

Elena caught Maya's hand. Kael kept his eyes on Rafe until the collector turned and followed his men through the shop.

Their footsteps passed the broken front window. A car door slammed outside, then another. Only after the engine started did Kael let his hand rest on the worktable.

His knees bent without his permission.

Elena reached him before he fell and guided him into the chair Thomas had pulled out. Kael tried to help her, but lifting his arm sent pain through his side. He sat heavily, breathing through his mouth.

“Don't get up again,” Elena said. She crouched in front of him and pushed his damp hair away from the wound on his head. “You can barely breathe.”

Thomas picked up the knife with a cloth and placed it on a high shelf. When he turned back, his eyes lingered on the metal cabinet where Rafe had fallen.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Thomas asked.

Kael opened his mouth, but Elena spoke before he found an answer.

“I want to know too,” she said. “Three men, Ethan. You could barely lift your head when we came in.”

The ring pressed against Kael's palm. He loosened his fist and slipped it into his trouser pocket while Elena checked the blood on his sleeve.

“I couldn't let them keep hitting you,” Kael replied.

Elena stopped pulling at the torn fabric.

“That tells me why,” she said. “It doesn't tell me how.”

Kael had faced rulers who threatened him with armies, yet he found himself choosing each word carefully beneath her stare. She knew the man whose face he wore. One careless claim about training or an old teacher could expose a lie immediately.

“Rafe expected me to back away,” Kael said. “I used that.”

“And the other two?” Thomas asked.

Kael glanced at the overturned tools. “The table helped,” he replied.

Elena followed his gaze, then looked back at him without smiling.

“Being beaten nearly to death doesn't teach someone how to fight,” she said.

“It made me stop waiting for them to show mercy,” Kael replied. “I won't keep living in fear of what they might do.”

Elena's mouth tightened. For a moment, Kael thought she would press him again. Instead, she reached for the phone in her pocket.

“You still need a doctor,” she said.

“Let me catch my breath first,” Kael replied.

She did not agree, but she did not make the call immediately either. Thomas lowered himself onto a stool beside the doorway and held his injured leg with both hands. Maya watched him until his breathing settled, then went to a cabinet at the far end of the room.

She returned with a small first-aid box.

“I'll clean his arm,” Maya said. “Mom, we need water and another towel. These are all dirty.”

Elena inspected the box before handing it back to her. “Call me if he gets dizzy,” she said. Then she looked at Kael. “And don't tell her you're fine when you're not.”

Kael nodded. It seemed wiser than arguing.

Maya pulled a stool beside him as Elena left through the rear doorway. Thomas remained within sight, watching the entrance to the shop.

“Give me your hand,” Maya said.

Kael offered the injured arm. She rolled his sleeve above the cut, moving slowly where blood had dried against the cloth. When she reached a stubborn patch, he pulled back before he could stop himself.

“Sorry,” Maya said. “I'll wet it first.”

She held a damp pad against the fabric and waited. Kael watched her hands. They had stopped shaking, though she checked the doorway whenever a sound came from the street.

“Did he hurt you?” Kael asked.

Maya glanced at the shoulder Rafe had pushed against the wall.

“It aches,” she replied. “You don't need to go after him for it.”

“I wasn't going to,” Kael said.

“You looked as if you might,” she replied.

She eased the sleeve free and began cleaning the cut. Kael let her work, keeping the ring still in his pocket. Its faint energy was close enough to sense, but drawing on it with Maya beside him would be a mistake.

“You remember when I fell off my bike?” Maya asked.

The question seemed casual until Kael noticed that she had stopped looking at his arm.

Ethan's memories did not come when called in neat order. Kael found an image of a small front wheel turned sideways, a scraped knee, and Maya crying beside a low wall. He waited for the rest rather than guessing.

“You scraped your knee,” he said.

“Everyone knows that,” Maya replied. She took a fresh pad from the box. “You told Mom I hit a stone.”

A second image came with the first: Ethan running behind the bicycle, one hand beneath the seat. Maya had kept asking whether he was still holding it. He had said yes after letting go.

“I was supposed to hold the seat,” Kael replied. “I let go before you were ready.”

Maya lowered her eyes to the cut.

“You said I was doing fine,” she said.

“You were, until you looked back,” Kael replied.

She gave a small laugh, then pressed the pad down more firmly than necessary.

“That was your excuse then too,” she said.

Kael felt her grip relax around his wrist. He had answered correctly, but he did not mistake it for the end of her questions.

“You should have seen him earlier,” Maya said. “Dad tried to come faster when Mom called. He nearly fell on the steps.”

Kael looked toward Thomas. The older man was still rubbing the outside of his knee through his trousers.

“I saw him stand in front of Rafe,” Kael replied.

“He always does,” Maya said. “Even when you tell him not to.”

She wrapped a bandage around Kael's arm and checked that it was not too tight. Then her thumb rested briefly against his wrist, near the hand that had pushed Rafe into the cabinet.

“How did you throw him back?” Maya asked.

Kael met her eyes. “He was off balance,” he replied.

“I was right beside him,” Maya said. “You barely touched him.”

Before Kael could answer, Elena returned with water and a clean towel. Maya moved aside to give her room, but the question remained in her face.

Elena cleaned the blood from Kael's temple. He endured the sting without moving while she examined the swelling around it.

“No more fighting,” she said. “You hear me?”

“I won't go looking for one,” Kael replied.

She held his gaze for a moment, then placed the towel in his uninjured hand.

Thomas called her from the doorway. Rain had begun blowing through the broken shopfront, and he wanted help moving a box of electrical parts away from the water. Elena hesitated until Maya offered to stay.

“I'll sit here,” Kael said. “I promise.”

Maya closed the first-aid box. “I'll get you a clean shirt,” she replied. “Don't make me come back and find you on the floor.”

Kael waited until she had left through the rear doorway. He could hear his parents talking in the shop, close enough that either could return within moments.

He took out the ring and held it beneath the table.

The stone inside it was smaller than a grain of rice. Most of the metal around it served no purpose beyond hiding it, but a thin line of magic kept its stored energy from escaping.

Kael pressed his thumb against the stone's setting and used a trace of his remaining power to open that line.

Cold moved into his hand. With it came the same helpless dread he had felt while taking the ring from Rafe. He stopped the flow before it reached his chest. The fear had to be separated from the usable energy, or he would carry it into himself.

It was simple work for the man he had been. Now he needed several breaths to steady his fingers.

He drew out a little at a time, holding the power at his fingertips until the borrowed fear faded. Then he guided the remaining energy toward his heart.

His pulse stumbled once. Kael stopped breathing and reduced the flow, allowing the damaged body to adjust. On the next beat, the pressure in his chest eased.

He waited through ten more beats before drawing again.

The ring did not hold enough power to build an inner core. He could not even repair all the damage Rafe's men had done. He had to choose what would keep this body alive long enough to recover.

Once his heartbeat steadied, he guided a narrow stream toward the less damaged rib. Warmth spread beneath the bruise. The sharp pain softened, though it returned when he tried to take a deep breath.

The bone had only begun to mend. Pushing harder would spend the energy without giving the body time to use it.

Kael stopped and checked what remained. Most of the ring's stored power was gone. He set aside the small amount he had drawn but not used, holding it with the remnants of magic in his soul. It would not last indefinitely without a core, but he would need it.

The ring lay dull and cold in his palm. As its stone emptied, a dark patch inside the band faded, exposing three fine lines in the metal.

Kael brought it closer to the light.

The lines formed a three-point crest. He turned the band, hoping the angle had misled him, but the mark remained unmistakable.

He had seen that crest on Black Sky Peak, fastened to the robe of a clan leader standing beside Lord Varyn.

That man had helped murder him.