1 Chapter 1 - Disappointment

"Another round's on me!" Locki cheered as he leaned one leg on the bar's counter. The wooden chair he balanced on swung precariously as he waved a mug full of frothy beer. Its bubbles tipped over the mug's wooden lips and ran down the teen's arm to stain his puffy, white shirt, but he paid it no mind as the bar around him erupted into rancorous cheer.

"The young master of Scarlet Hand is finally treating us? I'll take two!"

"Haha, I knew he went out to party, but this…" a man slung his arm around the person next to him, clearly drunk. "This is a party!"

"Aye! Go on, young master! Tell us the occasion!"

"You!" Locki swayed on the chair to point in a vague direction. The chair finally buckled and he stepped off it right as it crashed to the ground. "I'll hick, pay for that."

A sigh cut through the people yelling. "Don't bother."

Locki grinned at the old bartender. "Thanks, Berrel! Tonight, I drink till I drop."

"Please don't." Berrel said quickly. Despite his words, he methodically filled up another mug. "I doubt you can pay this tab, either."

"That reminds me what we're drinking about!" Locki addressed the crowd again. "Tonight I'm broke! Haha! Ain't that hilarious!"

"Uh, w- wait seriously?" One of the crowd stuttered, but he was quickly swept away by the people laughing. Why were they laughing? Hell if Locki knew.

All he wanted was to forget about everything else. He tipped his head back, bringing the foamy drink up to his lips and letting the bitter drink flow down his throat. Rivulets of alcohol dribbled down his chin and neck as he jerked forwards with a gasp.

Around him, the crowd of bar goers were yelling, drowning out his thoughts. Locki felt the buzz of activity and alcohol drown out his problems. He could go as crazy as he wanted, forgetting the worries plaguing his thoughts.

Yet, at the back of his mind, he knew this was a vain moment of peace. A stupid instant where he couldn't even remember the faces of those around him. They probably would forget about him the second he stopped, too.

And he wouldn't have it any other way. It was better than the disappointment that those he considered friends looked at him with. The condescending attitude they talked down to him.

Their voices grated on his nerves, mocking him in his stupidity. He gritted his teeth before he turned to Berrel. "One more!"

"I think he's had enough." The noise in the bar instantly evaporated. It was like someone had shut everyone's mouths at once.

Turning to the source, Locki could see that wasn't far from the truth. Hundreds of floating, purple hands covered the mouths of anyone nearby, forcing them into silence. Two purple hands the size of an adult opened a path through the crowd, and a gruff, black haired man with hard eyes stalked through the now silent bar.

His footfalls echoed menacingly as he marched up to Locki, but when they were face to face, he stood a head shorter than the teen. Though, that didn't stop the man from grabbing a fistfull of Locki's shirt. The gruff man yanked the teen's head down to look him in the eye, letting the young man see the deep frown that marred his face. A crisscross of scars creased on his face, drawing a flinch from Locki.

A purple hand materialized over the man's shoulder and tore the mug from Locki's hand. It tossed it to Berrel easily, and the barkeeper snatched it out of the air with practiced ease.

"Party's over." The man said, brokering no argument.

"H- hey Dralt. I didn't see ya there…"

"Yeah, and I wished I didn't see you here." Dralt said, releasing the teen from his grip and turning to leave. Locki didn't need to be told twice and followed after the mage.

The two walked in silence for a moment as they left the bar. Behind him, Locki could hear the party beginning to crescendo again, easily continuing without him. To be honest, he was a bit annoyed at that, but he was more worried about the conversation he was about to have.

Locki's feet plodded on the stone paved streets. Starlight illuminated the nighttime of Evermont city. The sleeping skeletons of buildings loomed on either side of the street, and Locki could hear the rush of the Burnese River that cut the city into separate sections.

Evermont residents got used to the sound. The river was almost never flowing silently, so they slowly got acclimated to its roar. However, now that sound forced a headache to pound on the sides of Locki's temples.

"Locki, why do you keep doing this?" Dralt asked without turning back.

"Does it matter? Grieving, depression, boredom." Locki tried not to roll his eyes. He failed. "Take your pick. After dad died, what else do I got?"

"What else— the guild!" Dralt spun, marching up to the teen. "Vun gave Scarlet Hand to you, Locki! As much as we tried to stop him, he still gave it to you because he thought you would step up to it! Because he wanted his damn son to get his head out of his ass and man up!"

Locki sneered, rubbing his knuckles on his thigh hard. "I never asked for this. Besides, I wasn't the one who up and left the second that was announced."

Dralt flinched. "They were… shocked is all. They're good men and even better mages. They just— Vun's death hit us all hard."

"Yeah, I bet."

"Locki this… look, it's all our faults, but this," he gestured to the teen vaguely. "It's been three months. You need to stop drinking— stop going out and throwing the guild's money away. Vun left it for you for a reason."

"And why me?" Locki spat caustically. A headache was pounding at the back of his eyes and his steps were beginning to get less sure of themselves. "My magic is trash. Half the people still in the guild are only there because of you and the other half are just spies from other guilds. What am I supposed to do?"

"They're… spies?"

Locki squinted his eyes at the mage. His vision wasn't blurry yet, but things were fuzzy around the edges. "Can't you tell? It's easy to see. Phantom Lord has been rising, and many smaller guilds who don't ally with them just disappear. Put two and two together."

"But they're… a registered guild. They can't attack another guild…"

"They don't have to." Locki said. "They can just pay some rogue mages to do the dirty work if they have to. It's a shit situation, but I doubt they'll waste their time on us."

"I see…" he pursed his lips, eyeing the buzzed teen. A tired sigh shook his shoulders before they arrived at the guild building for Scarlet Hand.

It was located in a shadier section of the city, the Southern parts specifically. Evermont was situated right next to the border of Bosco and Fiore, and had once served as a military outpost of sorts. As Fiore started refining more and more magical Lacrima, commerce trickled in from Bosco, a major source of crude magical Lacrima.

The transition from a military Evermont to a merchant based city was perhaps too fast. Soldiers were the first to lose their jobs, and they found work as seedier parts of the city life. Sure, some had magic and could become guild mages, but for the most part, they were forced to be hired hands for the highest payer.

And most of the time, the higher payer happened to be gangs that originated from Bosco.

It was a problem that Lacrima prices glossed over. There was profit to be made, and the higher ups of Fiore and Bosco disregarded most of the smaller folk. If the problem really got out of hand, then Fiore would sic their guilds on them.

In a way, the Scarlet Hand guild was a success story from all that shit. Locki had heard his grandfather helped prop up the guild to support the common man and give jobs to those in need. They were the heroes to the people, really.

Just when gangs and miscreants preyed upon the innocent people of Evermont, the Scarlet Hand extended their help. They were a self styled police force. Legal thugs, Locki always heard his grandpa say. Before the man died. He tripped and fell on a knife 37 times, apparently.

Now, the once grand Scarlet Hand guild was not even a shell of what it once was. Locki likened it to more of a infested rat hole.

The building was only a single story; it had a second floor once upon a time, but that was demolished due to how much it cost to upkeep it. Now there was only the ground floor and basement. Boards were nailed over broken windows, and vegetation grew up the stained brick of the building.

Rotten wooden doors were the only entrance to the place. They sounded like screaming banshees as the rusted hinges scraped against each other. Locki didn't flinch at the noise. He grew up with it, after all.

Locki liked to say that the inside was better. It wasn't. The wooden flooring had been stripped bare, leaving loamy dirt below broken up by the odd stone. A couple of seat less tables were scattered around the large room as they led up to the empty countertop at the far side, opposite of the entrance.

On the far left of the room, another equally rotten door sat. Locki's unofficial room, the guild master's room. On the wall next to the door was an empty mission board. It had once been filled, but now that he was in charge, Locki would be surprised to see even one mission pop up to populate that board.

The teen took a deep breath, letting the stale air fill his lungs. It burned a bit, and he had to keep himself from throwing up, but it was… home. A shitty one.

He sighed and slumped over the countertop at the back of the guild. There wasn't anyone in, and he doubted there'd be anyone in tomorrow. Or the next day and so on.

His eyes caught a floor mounted doorway behind the counter that led to the basement. The lock he placed on it was still there, meaning he had luckily not been robbed yet.

"I'll give it a week." Locki mumbled.

"Locki…" Dralt coughed behind him, and the teen turned to the mage. The older man looked conflicted, and Locki felt his heart seize. "Look, we need to talk about this."

"No." Locki said, turning away.

Dralt sighed. "I have tried. I really did. Scarlet Hand has been there for me— has raised me to be the mage I am today, and I can't thank your father enough for that. And for three months I held on. I held hope you could rise up to be the mage your father wanted you to be."

"Stop." Locki said, refusing to turn around. "Just go. Leave."

Sadly, Dralt did not heed Locki's requests. "Perhaps we were dealt a bad hand. I can… see that there are many problems with guilds that I don't even know about."

Locki spun around, feeling a bit aggrieved. The corners of his eyes felt a bit hot. He wasn't going to cry. Not after everything.

Dralt's face was pinched. He was the picture of resigned and saddened. The teen despised that look. "Locki, with the way things are going, we can only take the hand we are dealt—"

"Who?" Locki hissed, feeling his buzz disappearing. It was an annoying thing about being a mage; even when he never trained, his body was still better than the average man. The road to get drunk was only that much more expensive. "Who bought you?"

"This is not how I wanted it to go…"

"Does that matter?" Locki sneered. Deep in his chest, he felt his heart burn. It was happening again. Once again, he'd watch as things fell apart. Whether it was his fault or someone else's, it didn't matter. All that mattered was— "just tell me, Dralt. You've already done more than enough. Bought me another month of drinks with all the missions you've been on. I doubt the Magic Council will shut down the guild anytime soon, so just tell me. [Who. Bought. You.]"

Locki felt his magic trickle out with his words. [Enchanting Speak] was always a weird magic that stumped even his father. There was just no way to consciously activate it, and even when he did, all it did was enhance his words.

A magic purely for decoration, they had said.

Dralt locked up and stammered for a moment. Flickers of purple appeared around his body, but the man quickly reigned it in. "Dover Dogs."

Locki huffed. He reviewed the information in his head, mentally thumbing over what he read in the news. They were an up and coming guild who settled in the town nearby.

"If you leave, the guild collapses." Locki said. He desperately wanted to scream. To shout and break something.

Dralt had the decency to look embarrassed. "Maybe this is for the best. Perhaps you can get a job… somewhere else?"

"Just… leave."

"For what it's worth, Locki, I really think you should clean up your act. You can't live like this."

"Leave. Go. Go wag your tail for your new master."

Locki slumped over the counter. He could hear the older man sigh and mumble something about "not teaching him about drinking" before he carefully placed a piece of paper next to the teen's head. Locki glanced up to see a mission completion paper.

"It's an A-rank. Take all the jewels." A bag was placed over the paper. There was a long pause. "Goodbye, Locki."

The screech of the door alerted the teen to his last confidant's exit. It was a damning thing. Like a signal that marked the end of his short career as a guild master.

However, he paid more attention to the screen that popped up in front of his eyes.

[Dralt Stritend has left the guild]

"I already know that, dumbass." Locki cursed, feeling all the more annoyed. "[Guild Stats]."

[Scarlet Hand]

A dying guild that has no loyal members.

Guild Leader: Locki Wyn

Fame: Dead Guild

Mooks: 3

Members: 7

Locki stared at the screen in front of him for several minutes. There was one less member since he last looked, and he knew that four of them would leave after they heard that Dralt left. The others would leave too when they learned there was no guild to be worried about.

The teen banged his head against the counter. The wood groaned underneath, and he quickly sat up, hoping it didn't break under him.

This dumb system had apparently attached to him a month ago, and Locki assumed it was a second Magic awakening. Well, it was sixteen years too late. He was pretty sure he complained about it for three days when he found out.

And over the course of a month, Locki had been trying to put together what the hell this second magic did. For something that called itself the [Dimensional Guild System], it certainly did not lend itself to easy use.

Locki ran his hand down his face, yanking the completed mission document off the counter. The jewel purse on top spilled over the floor, but the teen only glanced at it for a moment. It was pocket change for the him before the guild went under, and Locki didn't want to lower himself to pick up loose change like a beggar.

As soon as the paper was in his hands, another screen lit up the teen's face.

[A-rank mission complete]

Rewards: Tier 2 Red Prism, Tier 1 Gold Prism

The air in front of Locki rippled as if it were the surface of a lake. Slowly, two crystals emerged from the air, shimmering with red and gold light respectively. They floated in front of him for a second before they dropped abruptly. He caught them deftly and shoved them deep into his pants pockets. Luminescent glows still shone from the fabric of his pockets, and Locki clapped a hand over them to stop light from leaking through.

Quickly, the teenager vaulted over the counter and produced a key from his pockets. It slid into the lock to the cellar doors and he easily popped it off before wedging open the two doors into the basement.

A staircase of stone went deep into the ground, swallowing them in darkness so that Locki couldn't make out where the stairs stopped. Without hesitation, the teen descended into the basement. His footfalls echoed within the dark with each step.

When he got to the bottom, he flicked a nearby switch and the light Lacrima installed in the ceiling whirred to life, lighting up the place. The first thing that stood out were the stone walls and floor. They were a step up from the dirt that lay in the guild room. A long hallway stretched underneath the ground with rows of doors on either side of the hall. There were eight in total, each titled differently.

They were old libraries his grandfather used to collect. Before the conflict with Bosco ended, he hoarded all sorts of books and information down in the basement. Now, they were just here to collect dust.

Locki moved past the underground library to a door at the far end of the hallway. It opened up to a massive hemispherical room with a bed in the far corner and several unfinished books strewn across the floor. Several empty wine bottles sat undisturbed next to and underneath the bed.

On the other side, there was an entire set of silver armor. Each piece seemed sculpted to the peak of perfection, and it was decorated with blue runes of some sort that glowed with obvious magic. Next to it sat several weapons. From spears to swords, they lay scattered on the stone floor. Some of them glowed in different colors of magic while most just sat there, completely mundane.

He surveyed the room like a hawk. While he was always known as the pariah of Scarlet Hand, he still grew up in the South end of Evermont. You learn to look over your shoulder twice before trusting the room.

Swiftly, Locki moved across the room and reached under his bed. Bottles clinked as they rolled out of his way, tottering this way and that as he found what he was looking for.

A smooth, nondescript briefcase lay on the ground. He snapped it open and had to shield his eyes as a deep golden glow shined into his eyes.

"This is it." He said to himself.

While it had only been a month, Locki had taken to figure out just what his second magic could do. The first thing he noticed, and subsequently played around with, were the Colored Prisms.

They came in Blue, Red and Gold. Blues were items, Reds were skills and Gold… Gold was people. Each one had different tiers that represented what would come up.

For Blues: tier 1 was mundane, tier 2 was magical and tier 3… Locki wasn't sure yet. He hadn't gotten enough tier 2s to get a tier 3, and he wasn't quite saving them up when magical items were actually pretty damn useful.

Though, the whole thing was random. Sometimes he would get lucky like with the armor, and other times, he'd get a magical packet of gum. On the bright side, he'd never run out of horrible-tasting gum.

Reds, though, they were an excitement. They were things called Skill Cards. He could use tier 1s to get mundane skills like carpentry or something, but tier 2s were something more. They were magic. Something that excited and frustrated him at the same time.

That main problem lay with him. His body was predisposed for Support-type magics, and he was incapable of learning anything else. He had cursed for two days when he found that out, wasting a [Earthland Magic — Sun God Slayer] card in the process. Even now, he felt inexplicable anger when he thought of it.

As for Red tier 3s, the answer was similar to Blues.

Finally, Golds. These were the most confusing of all of them. He was honestly a bit terrified of the implications, and had tested out three different tier 1s. The results were… the three mooks in his [Guild Stats] screen.

As for what they did…

"Oi, start cleaning." Locki grunted, and the effect of his words were immediate.

Out of the darker shadows of the room, three humanoid silhouettes slinked out. Their arms and legs are slim and lanky, extending far beyond what human standards are. They were featureless for the most part, and seemed crudely made out of wispy shadows that trembled as they moved around.

However, they were great maids, and try as he might, Locki couldn't figure out what else to do with them. They only could move around his territory, and all that amounted to was the guildhouse and basement. They were just glorified maids, really.

Which is why he had hopes for tier 2.

He carefully placed the last tier 1 Gold Prism with the rest in the case. With that, there were a total of ten. They vibrated and slowly moved towards each other to begin fusing as if a signal had been sent off.

While he waited for that, he took out the tier 2 Red Prism. He sighed as he looked at it.

At first, he had been ecstatic to get more magic, but now he was just numb and annoyed. He was stuck with stupid support magics. Where other people could shoot fireballs or conjure creatures to help them fight, all he could do was talk a bit better.

It was not fair.

Still, he gripped the Red Prism hard. He had learned that support magics were rare, and they seldom showed up for the small amount of Red Prisms he gained from Dralt's completed missions.

[Do you want to use "Tier 2 Red Prism" to summon a random Magic Skill Card?]

"Yes. Do it."

[Targeting system malfunctioning]

[No dimensional node to lock onto]

[Randomly generating a proxy node]

The crystal in Locki's hand glowed as the nonsensical words popped in front of his eyes. Rays of red light shone through the gaps of his hand, and he felt the crystal disappear. Soon, the air rippled again for a hand-sized red card to softly fall into his palm.

[Earthland Curse — Cursed Knowledge]

[Skill Card is applicable for absorption]

"Huh?" Locki stared, dumbstruck. "Curse? The hell is that? Why does it sound so… fuck it. Absorb."

Like that, the card shattered and the shards flew around his hand for a moment before digging into his skin. A spike of pain shot through his arm, but he stifled his scream as knowledge about his new magic fell in place.

He tilted his head back, opening his mouth wide to belt out a long laugh. "Hahaha! Fucking finally! Something I can work with. Took you long enough, stupid magic."

It was a gratifying thing. The notion that finally he wasn't just getting beat down by his awful luck. Even remembering how Dralt betrayed him didn't sour his mood.

Before he could celebrate, the light from the Gold Prisms died down, signifying their merger had completed. Excited, Locki reached down and a grin split his lips as another screen popped into view.

[Do you want to use "Tier 2 Gold Prism" to summon a random Guild Member?]

[Warning! Guild master must get the summon's approval before their presence is cemented into the world]

"What in the gods' name is this? Just do it."

[Targeting system malfunctioning]

[No dimensional node to lock onto]

[Randomly generating a proxy node]

In an instant, the light began flickering. Locki stared straight ahead as the hairs on his neck stood on end. A chill ran down his spine as purple gas billowed out from the ripple in the air.

He didn't need to think twice as he covered his nose and mouth with his shirt. The shadow mooks around the room shot into action, rushing towards him and surrounding him like lanky bodyguards.

Locki watched wide eyed as a tongue materialized between the shadow mooks, catching them all off guard as it ran from his chin to his forehead. Thick, smelly saliva sloughed off his face as a feeling of terror entered his brain.

"W-what the shit?!" Locki jumped backwards as a high-pitched chortle echoed in the underground room.

Then, the summon appeared. Coalesced from the smog much like the tongue had. A head sized ball with large, expressive eyes, an open mouth and lolling, pink tongue.

A screen appeared in front of him, giving him enough context to promptly wonder what his magic really was.

[Gastly]

The gas Pokémon. A poison/ghost-type Pokémon who enjoys adventure, playing pranks and misfortune.

Best Abilities: [Hypnosis], [Smog]

Mood: [Curious]

Bond: 15%

And what the hell was a Pokémon?!