Chapter 2
“Become a shield mage they said. You’ll get to travel the world they said.
Shield mages make the most money after portal mages, they said,” I grumbled to myself as I crawled under a house in order to get to the grounding runes damaged by a rodent problem the owner refused to acknowledge.
They being the recruiters and propaganda mongers for the Magecore.
The truth of the matter was that anyone with any magical ability had no choice but to join the Magecore.
It was the only way to learn how to use the magic that flowed within me and connected me to the ley lines woven through and connecting the three dimensions together.
I was glad I brought my coveralls because the amount of gunk and grossness under this house was beyond the mediocre salary I got.
What they didn’t tell you in those Magecore recruitment videos was that not everyone got to be a badass shield mage who saved the day protecting troops or government officials like in the movies.
The other thing they didn’t tell you was that the shield mages were the first ones targeted in any combat situation, especially since a shield mage always protected the portal mages.
That wasn’t even the fireball to the pyre of my badass shield mage dreams. No, no.
The killer was the fact that I lacked an affinity for protection shielding because, yes, being able to stop any kind of projectile and/or magic spell from penetrating a shield was a specialty.
One I did not have. Instead, I had an affinity for environmental shielding.
There were a few cool things about environmental shielding that I’m proud of but it wasn’t glamorous, which, if I’m being honest, I was fine with.
I wished I wasn’t obligated to deal with people as much as I did.
And I very much hated when anchor runes were placed under buildings or in any cramped spot.
Although hiding the runes was wise, they didn’t need such extreme concealment.
Rox was a coastal city, so I did a lot of shielding against water, heavy winds, salt, and the standard fire.
I could not do the fine-tuned shields against intruders or other magic.
When setting protections on new buildings, we often worked in teams, weaving together complex shield layers, utilizing all our specialized skills.
One of my strongest skills was in creating containment shields, whether they were temporary or permanent.
For example, if a fire erupted, I could encase it within a shield, preventing it from spreading until it either extinguished itself or was put out by a water or air mage.
I excelled at maintaining intricate environments within my shields.
This process required collaboration with an air mage and a water mage to establish the desired surroundings, while my shield would effectively hold it all together.
Want to create a rainforest in the desert?
My shield would sustain the rainforest's viability while blocking out the desert heat, sand, and any other elements that didn't belong.
It was a complex task that demanded meticulous fine-tuning to ensure proper airflow for the environment within the shield.
I finally made it to the set of runes in the middle of the underside of this house.
An entire line was damaged by who knew what, breaking the shield.
The runes didn’t create the shield but were used to anchor the magic.
I couldn’t fix these runes because I hadn’t created them.
I needed to write all new ones, but before I could do that, I needed to break the ones that were not damaged; otherwise, my new shield wouldn’t cover the house correctly.
I took out my rune pen and clicked it on.
It looked like an ordinary pen, but the tip blazed white hot so that whatever I wrote burned into any surface.
I drew a line across the old runes. The remnants of the spellwork slithered off the house.
Anyone looking wouldn’t have seen anything happening.
But if they had any kind of connection to the magic that flowed through dimensions, they’d sense the disbursement of magical energy.
Not all creatures were created equal. We elves were especially gifted in magical abilities. Not every one of us, mind you, like all abilities, some people had it and some didn’t. It turned out I was above average, but my affinity hindered me more than it helped.
Rather than put the new runes where the old ones were, I crawled back out to the edge.
I wrote the new ones just inside the crawlspace’s entrance.
This way, next time, if there was one, I only had to flip onto my back to reach them.
I put my palm to the runes and pulled magic through the nearest ley line into myself and then out through my hand into the runes.
As I directed the magic to cover the entire exterior of the house, I set what it would protect against through my will and intention.
Not all spells required an anchor. Temporary spells, such as fireballs, quick shields, or personal portals, could function without one.
However, any ongoing spells needed an anchor.
Spells that took multiple casters and covered sizeable areas or had significant effects, like city portal rings or barriers, also needed anchors.
While the portal itself was temporary, the size of a portal designed to transport large objects or groups of people needed the stability anchors offered.
These anchors also allowed a single portal mage to activate the portal without expending excessive energy, thereby preventing magic exhaustion.
Satisfied with the new shield, I crawled the rest of the way out from under the house and stood. With a groan, I cracked my back and shook the crap out of my hair. I unzipped my coveralls, letting the much-needed air in to cool me off. I hated the things. They were so stifling.
Back at my truck, I shed the coveralls and put my button-down shirt back on over my tank top. Putting them away, I grabbed the tablet with the work order on it, wrote in my notes and then walked to the front door. I knocked politely and waited for the elf who lived there to answer.
She opened the door with a warm smile. “Done already?”
“Yes, you’re all set and you shouldn’t have any other problems. I put extra protections on the runes themselves to ensure that nothing damages them.
” My best smile, usually effective at calming upset customers, was directed at her.
“I need you to sign here and then you’ll receive a copy of the work order. ”
Handing her a stylus, I flipped around the tablet and pointed to the line. “Thank you. That was fast.” She signed it and gave me the stylus.
“You’re welcome.” I tapped the close and email option that would dispatch a copy to the homeowner. “Have a good day.”
She nodded and closed the door as I turned around.
I climbed into my work vehicle. Unlike Terran we didn’t have a need for large vehicles or so many that they clogged the roads like I’d seen on shows based there.
Our vehicles were much smaller looking similar to rugged utility vehicles with an area in the back for extra equipment.
I normally didn’t need anything other than my rune pen, but some of the other mages did, depending on what kind of work they were doing.
I checked the address of my next job and leaned my head back in dread.
I hated going to the zoo. Unfortunately, I was the only mage in the area who could fix the environmental shields.
I put my hand on the steering wheel and pushed a bit of magic into it.
I looked back as the UTV rolled backward out of the driveway.
Earth magic spells powered the vehicle, allowing me to control the UTV’s direction and speed with my mind. Non-magic users had touch-sensitive buttons on the steering wheel and a start button on the dash. We adapted Terran vehicle designs to meet our needs and environmental conditions.
It would take at least an hour to get to the zoo on the outskirts of the city.
I wondered what caused one of the habitat’s shields to malfunction and start flickering.
According to the report, it didn’t fail, which was good because then I’d have to call in other mages to rebuild the entire internal environment.
I sighed, not looking forward to the rest of my day.
I decided I needed to listen to my favorite comedian on the way to fortify my mood.