Patting at his pocket, his mind fuzzy, Peyton looked for the Faerie Dust he snagged from Vinny on his way up, transferring Credits to the cretin with but a thought. If he kept supplying for a low cost, the dealer’s Faerie farms were a safe secret. As he found the packet of gold goodness, his Trillocom flashed with a notification - Madison was calling.
The device rang several times before going silent. He stared at the Faerie Dust for a long moment, sighing and returning it to his pocket. Standing from his recliner, he made his way to the refrigerator. As much as he wanted to talk to her, the day left his social battery operating on a deficit.
“I know you can hear me, Peyton,” her angelic voice echoed from the walls.
Peyton unclasped his utility belt and dropped it on the counter. The crystalline cylinders clanked loudly, but the noise fell on deaf ears. He opened the refrigerator, the waves of cold air sending gooseflesh roiling up his arms. A week’s worth of sweat, dirt, and blood layered on his arm.
The panels on the hallway glowed to life, and Madison’s face appeared. “I heard about your day… I-I’m sorry to hear-”
Grunting, he pulled out the strongest brew he could find - A Pelzik classic brew. With practiced efficiency, he twisted the top, and tilted his head back, emptying the entire thing in two gulps. Letting out a belch, Peyton smacked his lips and wiped his mouth, tossing the empty can into the Recycler extending from the side of the refrigerator. With a breathy sound, it closed, and the sound of grinding filled the air. The Recycler slid open again - empty.
Leaning his elbows across the sleek and silver counter, he rubbed his temples. A deep pressure behind his eyes caused a headache to form, the stress of business beginning to turn his reddish beard grey.
“Peyton…”
He rolled his eyes, “Remind me why I keyed you into my HomeSense.”
“Remind me why I put up with you,” she retorted. Her brows furrowed. “S-sorry, it’s been a long day for everyone.”
“Yeah, I know. I was there.”
They lapsed into silence as he recalled the day’s events. He knew she wanted to help, that she probably knew everything that happened down to the last detail, but she didn’t live it, experience it.
“If you need to talk…”
“I really shouldn’t have gone through that Door, Mad. I-I lost them all...” Tears flowed down his face. “Most of them haven’t even seen their third Cycle!” Peyton clenched his hands, the leather gloves squealing in protest. The pressure, the need for an outlet, conflicted with overwhelming exhaustion. “I failed, Mad. I failed them all.”
“No, you couldn’t know-”
He ended the call and barred her key from accessing his systems for twelve hours. An earful would welcome him in the morning, but he couldn’t contain the buzzing in his mind. The last time he lost control over his power of Volt, he was but a trainee.
“Damnit!” he shouted, slamming his hands on the counter. A lightning storm exploded outward, but the Department of Magical Handling and Abnormals - DMHA for short - long since required Mage residences be nuke-proof. His outburst didn’t even manage to scratch a single surface. It was just one of the many caveats of having magic activated through emotions. Emotional people became a bigger threat than mundane weaponry.
Training kicked in, and he reasserted his control over the Voltia. Closing his eyes, he numbed himself. Allowing a void of thought to suck away the memories, he reached into the refrigerator. Nothing mattered.
The Pelzik brew numbered two twelve-packs, minus the one drink he had. Taking both cases out, he set them on the counter. Routinely, he began to disarm, detaching the magnetic holsters from his waist. Numbly, he set Angel and Demon on the counter, rubbing away the accumulation of filth, only a small hint of appreciation for the dichotomy of Enchanted Silversteel and Obsidian stirring through the blanket of numbness.
Grabbing the brew, he walked over to his recliner. Protesting his rough treatment, the drinks clattered inside the cases as he put them down on the coffee table made of enchanted steel. When he slipped off his jacket, he struggled to support the weight of it and his Pulse Rifle - attached by a magnetic disk. His arms ached more than he realized, so he dropped the jacket and weapon into an empty chair.
Sitting in the only other chair in his flat, he propped his feet up. When he saw the state of his boots, he looked around at the rest of the flat. Mud tracked his progression through his home. It didn’t matter. The HomeSense would deal with it.
Kicking free of his boots, he opened another drink. Then another. And another. Numbed by drink, he slank back into the chair as the quiet pervaded the flat, screaming his loneliness to the world.
Tomorrow would be an awful day, but the day after would be a time of merriment. That’s just how these things went, so Peyton embraced the suck, giving in to his grievances. Once his mind and body were properly numbed, he pulled out the bag of Faerie Dust. The golden powder beckoned to him, and his Voltia responded in kind.
Pouring several flecks onto his finger tip, he eyed the substance. Banned by every magical society, it increased longevity, memory retention, and Kamii - or raw magic power. A boon to every Mage, but it didn’t come freely. Faerie farming wasn’t a new concept, but centuries have shown that Faerie Dust can cause people to contract Kamii-born illnesses due to overstuffing themselves. Studies showed that descendants of those affected would never bear Magekin again.
Bad stuff, one might say, but Peyton knew he would never be a father. Lineage and descendants were a pipe dream for someone like him - a Delver - so he didn’t even bother considering the possibility.
And Madison resented him for that. Even now, he lost himself to the memory of her blue eyes and soft skin. Tilting his head back, his eyes bleary, he placed the flecks on his tongue. The vibrancy of the world heightened by a degree or two. Like a storage container, he rummaged through his mind and relived the best memories of his life.
A content smile adorned Peyton’s face as he sipped from the Pelzik brew, immersing himself in the memories. As much as he griped and groaned at the time, he missed his younger days at Fadnier Academy with Madison. Helping her come into her own as a true Magificer was arguably his biggest achievement - despite nearly two decades of Delving.
Slipping away from those memories, he followed their relationship. As it was every time he journeyed back to the past, it was an experience of bitter nostalgia. Recognizing the good old days as gone and passed, he could only look forward to the days to come.
And these were grim days. Not in any way directly affecting his way of life. No. Instead, the threat of promotion loomed over his head. Fairly earned for his efforts, but it would put him at a desk in some faux leadership position.
Peyton couldn’t imagine a sedentary life. For as unknown as some of the lands at the other end of each Door was, it came with its own host of excitement. Over the years, his perception of reality warped from those he knew. Surviving when other Delvers failed, being near death more times than he could count, being responsible for the death of someone else - or an entire training regiment.
A new memory appeared before him, one of his happiest. Holding the Magitek core behind his back, Madison waited for him, her beaming smile melting his heart all over again. When he presented her with the core, she cried tears of joy. The next moment, their lips locked. Their first kiss.
Awkwardly, they broke away, and she completely assembled her first piece of Magitek. Presenting it to Professor Dunning, they both waited with bated breath only for him to stutter in disbelief at Madison’s work.
But that was the end of their happiness...
At some point, his HomeSense allowed in the morning light, revealing his slumped form surrounded by the empty beer cans. The baggy of Faerie Dust was now completely empty.
