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AlexanderBishop
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The Lightbringer — Chapter 12

Author's Note: I'm going to write Chapter 13 of "What Does The Fox Say" next. I've kinda neglected it lately, so I'll show it a bit more love before moving to TGC, FFF, and Swordmaxxing.

I barely lasted half an hour in that chaos down there before I had to throw in the towel. 

I just wasn't the partying type; never had been. I didn't bother with this stuff even on my own birthdays. Being in a large crowd with loud music and overall chaos drained my social batteries way too fast. 

The lounge was thankfully empty when I slipped back inside, a fruity cocktail in my hand. I plopped down on the nearest couch with a sigh, sinking deeply in the soft material, for a moment just enjoying the deathly quiet of the room. 

I wasn't planning to stay until the party ended, but Emily looked like she was enjoying herself, and I wasn't going to spoil her fun. I didn't mind waiting a bit longer until she made up her mind. Besides, I could get some work done while waiting. Better than just sitting here staring at walls while sipping at my drink. 

I fished out one of the steel rings from my pocket, letting it catch the soft, blue light as I flipped it between my fingers. 

So... Fire resistance

The thought was enough to open the floodgates in my head. Arcane schematics bloomed behind my eyes like fractals, each one a different path to the same concept. I sifted through them, casting aside the dozen ideas until a single one lingered in my mind. I didn't need anything fancy for now. Just something to blunt the fire's edge enough to prevent heavy injuries. 

If Emily stayed with Faultline, this would make a decent parting gift. Something to keep her safe in case she ever messed up with her power. It wouldn't even take that long to make it. 

A minor resistance keyed specifically to her person should take... two hours? Maybe three if I made the resistance extend to the ring itself. Plenty of time to finish before I had to go. 

Taking a sip of cocktail, I swapped Fitting In for Precise Strike, feeling that mental click as the power settled into place. Even if they had cameras up here, it wouldn't look like much. Just a weirdo fiddling with a ring while drinking alone. This looked more like mental illness than a parahuman power. 

Snorting quietly to myself, I crossed one leg atop the other and got to work. 

The first rune took shape under my fingertip, an unseen force sculpting the metal like clay. Then the second. And the third. The runic array steadily unfolded as the minutes flew by, only pausing as I sipped at my drink every now and then. 

The door suddenly opened, a soft click that pulled me out of my trance. 

I blinked, the schematic fading to a distant bookmark at the back of my mind as I looked up. Faultline stood in the doorway, backlit by the brighter light of the hallway. She studied me for a moment, offering a brief nod as she stepped inside. 

She walked up to the couch across from me without a word and took a seat, folding her hands atop her lap. 

"The party not to your taste?" Her voice carried a faint note of amusement as she tilted her head a fraction. 

I shrugged, slipping the incomplete ring inside my pocket as I replaced Precise Strike with Fitting In. "Not a fan of large crowds and loud music. They tire me out too quickly." I could probably use a power to deal with that, but that still wouldn't make me like partying. 

"Your friend seems to be the opposite." 

An amused huff escaped me as I picked up my drink, swirling the melting ice. "What teenager isn't?" 

Faultline hummed, a low, thoughtful sound. A beat of silence stretched between us, not quite comfortable but not hostile either. 

"Do you have other items for sale?" Faultline spoke after a moment, her tone casual, with a sprinkle of interest underneath. "Anything more suited for combat?" 

My lips quirked around the rim of the glass as I took a sip of the fruity cocktail. 

I leaned back, pretending to mull it over. Like I hadn't already decided exactly what I'd sell her and what I wouldn't. Her ragtag group might be more mercenary than villains, but they'd do plenty of naughty things for money. I'd only give them the bare minimum. 

"How about a trinket that gives a small Brute or Mover rating?" I offered. "Or maybe something closer to a personal force field?" 

I had plenty of sources to draw inspiration from. And I could probably get it done in a day or so if I gave them a big flaw like a long recharge time. Maybe one or two minutes for a few seconds of decent protection? I wasn't making her a Collateral Damage Barbie level shield. 

Faultline's shoulders shifted forward, her head tilting slightly in interest. "How long would it take you to make something like that?" 

"Can't say right now." The lie came easily. "I don't even have all the materials to get started." 

Technically true if you squinted. I could use something like a medallion as the base, but the more materials I used as catalysts, the quicked I'd get the Enchantment done. 

Faultline leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, fingers interlocking. "I could help with that." Yeah, I'd bet. "Depending on what materials you need, of course." 

The offer hung in the air, another beat of silence filling the room. She could get me stuff from Toybox, couldn't she? Maybe I was just being lazy, but I didn't feel like bothering with the Tinker black market right now. I'd rather use a middleman. 

I gave the woman a knowing smirk. "In exchange for a discount, I'd assume." 

"Naturally." 

I took another sip of drink, this time mulling it over for real. I came here looking for quick cash, yeah, but also for this exact opportunity. 

"I'll have to think about it." I said, keeping my tone casual. "I can call you later to discuss details." 

I'd rather not shake on anything else for now, though. I haven't even decided on my next big project yet. 

"Of course." 

Faultline paused as her phone buzzed. She pulled it from some hidden pocket, glancing at the screen. Something shifted in her posture, and she rose from the couch, picking up the call as she moved towards the door. "Yes?" 

That's all I managed to catch as the door clicked shut behind the woman. That sounded like business. Or maybe her relatives calling for all I knew. Not that I cared much beyond idle curiosity. 

What mattered was that I was alone again. 

I leaned back in my seat and pulled the ring out, flipping it between my fingers. Smiling, I replaced Fitting In with Precise Strike and got back to work. 

<[]> 

I brushed my thumb over the runes one last time, feeling the faint grooves in the smooth metal. I would've tested it if I had a lighter, but it didn't matter anyway. I knew it would work. Smiling at my handiwork, I slipped the steel band on my finger, admiring the way it caught the ambient light. 

A job well done— 

The door swung open. 

Emily walked in with a silly smile plastered across her face and a light sway in her steps. "Heyyyy," she said, drawing the word out. "Happy New Year!" 

Huh. Past midnight already? 

She beelined for my couch, the smile not leaving her lips. "Why're you staying up here alone? The party's downstairs." 

"Happy New Year to you, too." I smiled despite the warning bells starting to ring in my head. "Had to recharge my batteries. It's been a long day." 

Emily crossed the rest of the distance without answering, stopping in front of my couch. She looked down at me, still silent, her cheeks flushed despite the disguise. Huh. It could do that? 

Then she sat on my leg. 

A quiet, silly giggle escaped her. A flicker of mischief flashed in those striking blue eyes, and before my brain could catch up to what was happening, she straddled my thigh and leaned in, pushing me flat against the couch as her lips crashed into mine. 

I could taste the alcohol in her breath. My heart picked up. 

Her hands found purchase on my chest, and her tongue darted out, probing at my teeth. My mouth opened in surprise, and she took the opportunity, slipping inside and exploring with clumsy enthusiasm. 

I grabbed her shoulders, a half-formed protest in my mind. Just then, Emily broke the kiss, her hands resting on my shoulders as she pulled back. 

I took a good look at her face. Her pupils were blown wide, her freckled cheeks speckled with red like crushed strawberries, and mouth quirked in a half-formed smile. 

Crap

"Emily, how much did you drink?" 

Did someone slip her something? 

"Not muuuch." A giggle escaped her. "Only a few glasses of vodka with apple juice." She swayed slightly, hands tightening on my shoulders as she gave me another silly, unguarded smile. "Wanted to try some cocktails and rum, but I wanted to see you more." 

A few glasses? Jesus

For a moment, I felt an odd sense of déjà vu. Probably because I'd done the same shit at her age and almost ended up in an alcoholic coma. Never touched more than a single cocktail after that. 

Emily leaned in to steal another kiss. 

This time, I grabbed her shoulders, holding her gently in place. A complicated sigh escaped me as confusion crossed her flushed face. 

I should've talked to the bartender before peacing out earlier. 

Frowning, I took one hand away from Emily's shoulder, reaching within for the Light, and— 

I paused, my hand frozen in front of her face. 

Screw it

Who cared if anyone saw this? I had my disguise. I wasn't going to leave Emily drunk off her ass when I could actually help. 

Emily's eyes widened as Light bloomed in my palm. It unfolded to a crescendo, bathing her in soft gold, lingering around her body like a warm, cleansing aura. Motes of radiance danced across her skin, sinking in, burning away the alcohol in her body and healing the damage it had already done. 

The change was instant. 

She blinked owlishly as her eyes cleared of that drunken haze and stared at me for a moment, her brain finally catching up to the situation. Then, she quickly looked away, ears burning red beneath her golden hair. 

An awkward silence hung in the air as Emily sat there on my leg like a deer caught in headlights. 

Sometimes, being a responsible adult sucked. 

"Um..." Her voice came out small. "Sorry about that..." Shame colored every syllable. "I said I'm not this kind of girl, and I still..." She gestured lamely between us, letting her hand drop limply at her side. 

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile as I lowered my hands on the couch. "We've all gotten drunk and done something like this. Just be more careful in the future." I kept my tone even. "The body has a limit to how much alcohol it can process at once. Too much, and you can die from it." 

"Yeah. I'll be more careful..." 

More awkward silence filled the room. I could feel her weight still on my leg, her warmth seeping through the thin fabric. My pants were uncomfortably tight. My hands twitched on the couch, the urge to just grab Emily and— 

I pushed that thought away. A moment later, she thankfully stood up, taking a seat next to me, an arm's length away. I let out a breath of relief, stretching my leg a little before crossing it over my knee. That was dangerous... 

"I guess I just wanted to thank you," Emily said again, still not looking at me. "For... everything. The healing. The food. The—" 

"Thanks, but I didn't help you expecting something in return, you know?" Seriously. "A simple 'thanks' would've been enough." 

Jesus didn't heal people expecting praise or worship. He did it because he wanted to help. 

Emily finally met my eyes, turning to the side to look at me fully. She held my gaze intently, like she was searching for something. Proof I was lying, maybe. Or proof I wasn't. 

"Yeah..." She swallowed. "Sorry again about that..." 

"Don't worry about it." I gave her another reassuring smile, and she averted her gaze, her shoulders drooping as she nibbled at her lower lip. The flush was gone from her cheeks now, leaving behind just a thoughtful frown. 

Before the silence could stretch again into the awkward, I slipped the fire resistance ring off my finger, holding it in my palm. Emily's eyes tracked the movement, curiosity replacing some of the shame. 

"What's that?" 

"A magic ring." I couldn't help but smile. 

She gave me a flat look, but I caught a brief twitch at the corner of her lips. 

"It makes you resistant to fire," I said, lowering my voice. "Made it earlier while you were downstairs. Only works for you and you alone." 

Emily went still. Her mouth fell slightly open as realization crashed across her face like a wave. 

"You didn't have to..." 

"No, but I wanted to." 

She went quiet, her eyes drifting to her lap. A complicated expression flitted across her face, gratitude mixed with confusion and something else I couldn't quite place. 

She'd better not be getting any other ideas. 

"If you try anything funny again," I said, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of my lips, "I'm going to hit you with the superpower equivalent of a spray bottle." 

That snapped her out of it. She looked offended for a moment, then blew a quiet breath through her nose. Wordlessly, she took the ring and turned it over in her hand, studying the small runes etched into the steel. 

"I haven't tested it yet," I admitted, "but you shouldn't get anything worse than second degree burns if you have an accident with your power." 

"That's..." She shook her head, caught between surprise and disbelief. She met my gaze again, a flicker of gratitude settling on her lips. "Thank you." 

"Try it on. If it's too big, I'll adjust it." 

A moment later, Emily slid the ring around her finger, staring at her hand like she expected fireworks. 

I couldn't help the grin. It was magic, but it wasn't that magic

"Doesn't have any flashy special effects, I'm afraid." I joked, drawing Emily's gaze away from her shiny new trinket. "You can test it with a lighter, though. Should only feel warm to the skin." 

The ring didn't fit that snugly around her finger, but it shouldn't slip off. Maybe I'd adjust it another time. 

Emily went quiet again, looking away and folding her hands back in her lap. The silence wasn't as awkward this time, though. 

I uncrossed my legs, resting my palms on my thighs. My eyes flickered to the empty cocktail glass on the table. I had to grab another one before leaving. That fruity stuff was great. 

"You were right earlier," Emily spoke up again, her gaze fixed somewhere across the room. 

"About what?" 

"About me. I don't have many options." 

I wasn't sure what to say to that. The truth was harsh, and she already knew it. 

"Life can be like that sometimes." 

"Yeah..." Her eyes flickered back to her lap, where she knitted her fingers absentmindedly. She looked like she had something else on her mind, a frown on her lips. 

I hesitated and then turned to her fully, curiosity twisting in my stomach. "Did you run away from home?" I asked. 

"I..." A flicker of something painful crossed her eyes. "I'd rather not talk about it..." 

Fair enough. If it had something to do with her Trigger event... I wasn't going to push anyway. 

Another beat of silence followed, heavier this time. 

Emily stopped fidgeting and met my gaze. "You said I could go with you, right?" Her voice was quiet and uncertain. 

"Yeah." I nodded. "You didn't like them?" 

"They're okay, I guess, but I just..." She looked away, her fingers knitting nervously in her lap again. "I don't wanna be a villain. Or a mercenary." 

Perfectly understandable. Villains were cringe. And being a mercenary wasn't the best career path for a teenage girl. 

"I can still go with you, right?" 

Well... I'd said that, didn't I? 

An aborted grimace twitched on my lips. Taking care of a teenager wasn't ideal, I could barely take care of myself most days, but I'd offered and I wasn't going to be all talk. 

"Sure," I said, holding her gaze firmly. "I live in a studio, so it'll be a little cramped until I figure out something better, but yeah. You can join me." 

I gave Emily a warm smile, and she averted her eyes again, looking somewhere ahead as she laid her palms flat on her jeans. 

"You said you're going to be a hero?" 

"Independent, yeah." I shrugged. "You can join me, but you don't have to go out and fight if you don't want to. You can be like a secretary sidekick or something." 

That got a small smile from her. 

"I don't know..." she said, turning the ring around her finger absently. "I'll have to think about it." 

"Take your time. I won't have my debut for a while yet." 

We lapsed again into silence. This one felt different, though. More contemplative than awkward, like we'd just moved past the embarrassment and landed somewhere almost comfortable. 

I glanced at the door, then back at Emily. 

"We should talk to Faultline," I said. "Let her know you've made your mind." 

"Yeah..." 

"You're ready to go, or do you want to party a little more?" 

Emily shook her head, the ghost of a grimace pulling at her lips. "I've had enough fun for tonight." 

"Look on the bright side," I said, flashing her a smirk. "You started the new year on a high note." 

That got another brief smile out of her. "That was bad." 

"Still made you smile, though." 

Emily shook her head again, but despite the flat look on her face, she seemed in a better mood. 

I pulled out my phone, dialing the number. 

<[]> 

"Later is fine. Just text me the specifics when you've decided, and I'll get started." 

Faultline nodded crisply. "Will do." Her attention shifted to Emily, posture softening by maybe a degree. "I hope things work out for you." 

Emily ducked her head slightly, fingers worrying in her lap. "Thank you. For the offer, I mean. I just..." 

"No need to explain." Faultline said, tone mild. "Not everyone's cut out for this line of work." 

Huh. She was pretty chill about it. I'd expected her to be at least a little disappointed about losing a potential recruit. 

"Well, I'll call you when the bands are done," I said, standing up from the couch. "Shouldn't take longer than a few days." 

I could finish all five tomorrow night if I really wanted, but she didn't need to know that. Better to under-promise and over-deliver than get asked uncomfortable questions. 

"I'll be waiting." Faultline rose as well, extending her hand. "A pleasure doing business with you." 

I shook it. Her grip was firm but not overbearing. 

The three of us left the lounge, Faultline showing us downstairs and then disappearing somewhere else. The party was still in full swing, but everyone was more drunk than not. People swayed on the dance floor with less coordination than before, despite the music being twice as loud. 

Ugh... 

I beelined for the bar, not letting Emily out of my sight. The bartender recognized me from earlier, but my social batteries were running dangerously low, so I kept it short and quickly ordered the same fruity cocktail as earlier. 

She mixed it with practiced efficiency while I surveyed the food situation. There were trays of appetizers scattered around, spring rolls, quiches, and some kind of bruschetta. I grabbed a paper plate and started loading it up with zero shame while Emily watched with an expression somewhere between weird and amused. 

"Are you seriously stealing food from a villain's party?" 

"It's not stealing if it's offered to guests." I popped a spring roll in my mouth, savoring the crunch. "And we're guests." Faultline said so. 

Emily shook her head, choosing not to argue. Smart girl. 

By the time I finished stocking up on food, I saw my drink waiting on the counter. I picked it up in my other hand and took a long sip. Still excellent. 

We quickly made our way out of the Palanquin, the cold winter air hitting like a slap after the warmth of the crowded club. I could still hear the muffled thump of bass behind us, but it faded as we walked. Begone demons. 

I steered us toward a nearby alleyway, looking around carefully to make sure it was all clear. 

"How far is your place from here?" 

Emily's question pulled my attention back. Ah, right. She thought I lived in Brockton, didn't she? 

I took another sip of my drink, my breath fogging in front of my face as I sighed. I knew I forgot something... 

"I actually live in Boston." 

Emily stopped walking, blinking owlishly at me. "What?" 

"Yeah. My apartment's in Allston." I kept my tone casual, flashing her an apologetic smile. "Forgot to tell you about it earlier." 

"But..." She gestured vaguely back towards the Palanquin. "You knew where everything was. You acted like you were from here." 

"I moved recently." Technically true if you squinted. "Long story." 

The alleyway opened up ahead of us, narrow, dark, and smelling faintly of piss and old garbage. Perfect. 

Emily looked around skeptically. "So, how are we getting all the way to Boston?" 

I gave her a serious look, holding her gaze for a moment. "Please keep what you're about to see a secret. I don't want to advertise my fast travel just yet." 

"Fast wha—" 

With a quick mental flex, I opened a Portal next to us. 

One moment there was just a brick wall and shadows. The next, reality folded in on itself like origami, unzipping to reveal my studio apartment on the other side. Warm light spilled out, illuminating Emily's slack-jawed expression. 

"You can make portals too..." Her voice came out flat with disbelief. 

"Yeah, my power's pretty crazy." I reached for the Light, reapplying Fortitude and Might on both of us. The familiar warmth spread through my limbs as the buffs took hold. 

"Pretty crazy?" Emily tore her eyes away from the portal to stare at me. "You're like Eidolon." 

I made a so-so gesture with my head, my hands too busy holding my drink and food. "Eh, not really. He's got me beat when it comes to sheer firepower." 

Enchanting aside, of course, but that stuff needed a lot of prep time to really shine. Raw power, though? Eidolon could probably delete a city block at the drop of a hat and without breaking a sweat. I'd need at least a few days to match that with Enchanting. 

Emily just shook her head, her gaze drifting back to the portal. Her expression had moved past disbelief into something like resigned acceptance. 

"Alright." I pushed the plate of food in her hands with a smile. "Just hop in and make yourself at home. Oh, and take off your shoes at the entrance. And wash your hands before touching anything. There's slippers by the door." 

Emily gave me an odd look, the kind I'd gotten used to over the years. 

"No, it's not you," I clarified. "I'm just a clean freak." 

She looked like she wasn't sure what to say to that. 

"Okay..." 

I gestured at the portal with my glass. "Go on." 

She walked closer, studying the gateway like it might bite her. She reached out with one hand, poking a finger through the threshold, then pulled back, inspecting her hand. I clamped my mouth shut, holding back a laugh. 

Satisfied that she still had all five digits, Emily looked over her shoulder at me. "What about you?" 

"I'll come later." I took another sip of my fruity drink. "Wanna stretch my legs a little." 

And look around for a bit. The night was still young. Maybe I'd get lucky and stumble across a certain nazi brat. Or maybe I'd get even luckier and run into Sophia again. It's been so long since I'd last seen her... 

Emily blinked, eyeing me oddly. "At this hour?" 

I quirked an eyebrow. "Do you need me for something?" 

"No, I just thought it was kinda weird." 

I shrugged. "I'm weird like that." 

A beat of silence hung between us. Emily's lips twitched with a faint smile, like she was deciding whether to call me on my bullshit or just accept that I was an odd duck. 

She chose acceptance. 

Without another word, she stepped through the portal. I watched her disappear into my apartment, waited until she took off her shoes, and then I closed the gateway. 

I slipped a hand in my pocket, the cocktail glass held carefully in the other one as I looked around with a smile. 

Time for an enthusiastic walk.


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