Wren
Ch. 25
Two tankards of mead in, Rich was feeling oddly calm about his situation. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the knowledge that whatever happened next was out of his hands. He was worried about what Wren would do to him, but the worry was dulled knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. He finished his third tankard and Mags started pouring him a fourth when the door burst open.
And in the door was standing Wren. And they looked furious. Shit. Here it comes, Rich thought.
“Hey, Wre—” was all he got out before being struck by a surprisingly strong punch.
“What the fuck was that?! That piece of shit got away! It was the only one that could’ve posed a threat to me!”
“Do you want to do this somewhere el—” Before Rich could finish his question, a dagger Wren had pulled out faster than he could see pierced his hand and pinned it to the table. He started screaming in pain. Mags hefted her zewihander from under the bar. But when she stood back up she found the tip of a sword at her throat. It was Rich’s sword, being held by Wren.
“Everyone out!” Wren shouted over Rich’s screaming, “This is an enchanted sword! I could kill every one of you before the first hit the ground!” The patrons of the bar started nervously murmuring. In a flash, they ripped the dagger from Rich’s hand, and sent it flying at the nearest patron. The dagger flew at such a speed that it didn’t lodge itself in the victim’s shoulder. It kept going, and took a sizable chunk of their shoulder with it. The patron immediately slumped to the floor. The others at his table picked him up and carried him out. The rest of the customers quickly followed suit.
“Now if you think I’m leaving my bar with someone like you—” Mags started, before Wren left a long, but shallow, slash across her face.
“Out, chubby. I promise you don’t want to test me on this. I don’t want to kill people, but I absolutely will if they stand in my way. The only one who needs to feel this blade tonight is this useless piece of trash” She gestured towards Rich.
Mags wasn’t normally one to back down from a fight, but she could also tell when she was out of her depth. She left without another word. Rich started to stifle his screams. He knew that Wren had something to say, and that they would not appreciate being interrupted.
“You let it get away.” They suddenly seemed calm, and yet their new tone frightened Rich even more, “Do you have any idea what that means?”
“No.”
“That means that it’ll never show up there again. I’m going to have to do more recon and try to figure out where it hid, and what it’ll do next. Do you know why I’ll have to do this?”
“No.”
“Because this one is more advanced. Not like me, obviously. It’s not sapient. But it’s smarter than most shape changers. It has a better sense of self-preservation than normal ones. It can predict if you’re going to harm it, and try to prevent that from happening. It’s like an evolutionary middle ground between me and a normal shape changer.”
“So you are—” Wren hit Rich across the face with the side of the blade.
“It’s going to recognize you now. You’re going to have to kill it without it noticing, once I find it. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you in the meantime. I certainly know what you won’t be doing though.” They extended their hand, and out shot a geyser of flame, setting much of the room alight, “You can go now. I’ll contact you when I figure something out, it won’t be too long.” Rich didn’t move. Wren grabbed him, dragged him to the door, and tossed him out onto the street. “You’re not dying now. You’re still somewhat useful to me.”
Wren walked away down the street, while Rich and Mags watched the anchor of both of their lives burn to the ground.