“Trey,” Liz called out, “How many months do you have to wait between inscriptions?”

“Depends on the individual and the particularities of the inscription,” I replied as I finished locking the gemstone in place. “But generally, four to eight months; six on average.”

“Thanks. What about the average number of ones in a lifetime?” she asked as I heard her scribbling down the details in her notes over the microphone.

“Three. You really should’ve studied earlier,” I poked, while I tried strapping the leather around my right-hand wrist. Eventually getting the artifice in place, I began seeing if I could cycle into the tiny gemstone.

I felt mana move through my body but I couldn’t focus it into the gem. I tried expelling it, but it just slowly leaked out of my body then my control over it faded.

“Liz, I’mma need you to come over and test something for me. I still can’t control mana for shit and can’t tell if it's me or the gem failing.”

“You need to get up to snuff; our evaluation is in a few months right before we get our first inscription and you'll need to know this stuff,” Liz began, “Besides studies have shown you’re more likely for your inscription to improve if you have strong mana control and-”

“I know, I know, preaching to the choir here,” I interrupted. When she starts ranting she goes on for god knows how long and I really didn’t need this lecture a third time this month. Why did she only know details about getting good inscriptions and improving upon them?

“Either way, are you coming or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right over to test your latest toy. If this one burns me like the last one, I’ll beat the shit out of you,” She said right as the call ended. My idea to try to make a homemade grenade wasn’t the best one but I wanted to be an artificer, not an engineer; risky inventions were expected if anything.

I waited for about ten minutes, watching a funny moments video. Someone tried to purify mana gems at home: always a quick way for someone to hospitalize themself. I watched as the man used a microwave with a modified fork to try to heat up the crystal enough for it to liquefy.

His microwave exploded just as Liz walked into my room.

“Gods, the hell are you watching?” She said, walking over to look over my shoulder.

“Nothing. Heads up,” I said, tossing the bracelet at her. She caught it and held it up to her face to inspect it before latching it onto her wrist.

She checked the bracelet making sure it was fastened properly, “Aight come on, let's head to the junkyard to test it out."

The two of us headed out of my house and I grabbed a can of soda for each of us during the walk.

We made our way to the junkyard a couple of blocks away. When we arrived we headed deeper inside to make sure we weren't visible from the streets. I chugged the rest of my orange soda and sat it down on top of a busted tv.

"So first things first, see if you can charge up the mana gem,"

"Kay, gimme a sec," Liz said and briefly closed her eyes and concentrated. A moment later she opened them again and fired a bolt of mana.

Startled, I shot up, moving away from the direction she shot it towards. The mana bolt crashed into the base of the soda can, sending it spinning in the air before clanking onto the ground.

"Fucking hells Liz! What the fuck was that for?!"

"That's for not giving me a birthday gift until now. Thanks!" She replied, a large grin sitting on her face. We both knew this wasn't a gift for her birthday this year, but she's been giving me shit for it from the moment she realized I forgot.

Well, making her happy is worth the loss of a gem I found in a dumpster uptown.

"But in all seriousness, it works. Gem makes enough contact for a clean transfer of mana back and forth. Pretty comfy too," She praised. Liz usually liked my designs, and while she wasn't one to make stuff herself, she seems to always appreciate the effort put into handcrafted gems.

"Well glad you like it, it's yours," I responded. While I didn't initially intend to give this to her, I did feel bad about forgetting her birthday this year.

"Deadass? You know I was joking right?" She asked as she made her way over to me.

"Yeah," I nodded, "Keep it. Sorry about forgetting to make you something this year, I-" She interrupted me with a hug.

"Thanks Trey. I know I gave you shit for it but I didn't mean it; I know you're busy prepping for your artificer test and stressed about the evaluation," she muttered before releasing me from the hug. "By the way,” she said, clearing her throat, “I know you're focused and all but you have to show up to class this week. You can only miss one more day this year before you'll have to take supplementary classes."

Fuck, I had already used up most of my absences? If I was held back I would blow my chances at Northridge Academy. Hells, my odds were already fifty-fifty with my current stats.

"Thanks for the warning, I can stand showing up for at least ten days... I guess," I said, getting my shoulder punched in response.

"Smartass. We should head back though, it's getting late and curfew is still in place," she reminded me.

Right. There's a curfew. Ever since a few days ago when Central Bank was hit, the city has been under a strict eight o'clock curfew. I checked my phone, seven-thirty.

"Yeah, let's go. If we leave now we can probably grab food on the way," I said as we began walking out of the junkyard.

"Raul's tonight?" Liz asked as she stared at her phone. I glanced over to see she had searched, 'fast food near me.'

"Yeah, a burger sounds good, what do you plan on getting?" I asked.

"A burger? Their burgers are shit I'm getting a shake n' fries."

"Liz, it's a burger place. Raul's Burgeria. How are you not getting a burger?"

We both giggled. This was a running gag of ours. How it started was long forgotten. For some reason, we still found it funny.

"Trey heads up, three o'clock." Liz's amusement vanished. Visualizing a tiny clock, I looked where the three would be and spotted David.

David was an older dude, middle-aged, and kinda tall. He was a lanky guy, decent looking if it didn't seem like the last time he slept was sometime during the Missing Era. He was also on the neighborhood watch.

The thing about David is that he has an intimidation-related inscription. He had to, otherwise, there is no way Liz and I would shit bricks whenever he decided to fuck with us. How someone like him managed to get inscribed only the gods know.

We tried to duck around a corner before he noticed us but since I was late to react, he spotted us.

"Elizabeth, Treyvon! Come here for a minute!"

Damnit.

“David! Yo, what’s up? By the way, I told you my full name is Trey, not Treyvon.” Treyvon was a more common name in our region, but he knew my name, he used to get it right when my parents were around. He just did that to piss me off.

I walked over annoyed, especially since I knew what was coming next. Liz followed me, settling on giving a death glare.

He walked up to us and I felt the hairs on my neck stand up. He began, but I couldn’t focus on him. My breath went ragged and I felt my heart rate pick up.

I took a deep breath, sparing a glance at Liz, she had a similar reaction; she was slightly shaking, a scowl forming on her face.

“I don’t think that you want to do that girl,” He stepped forward and stared down at Liz, a smug smile on his face. I felt my breathing start picking up and forced it to slow down.

My eyes drifted down to Liz’s hand where I saw it bent like she was holding a ball. An old tell of hers.

I realized what she was thinking and leaned on her, making sure to dig my forearm into her neck.

She glared at me for a moment before letting out a small sigh and relaxing her hand. It was illegal to use mana in the city outside of specified areas. If you use it for assault? That’s a good way to lose a few decades of your life.

Technically, David was breaking that law right now; the problem with mental-based inscriptions is that you have better odds of winning the lottery than proving one was used on you.

David stood there, letting us sweat for a bit while we struggled to fight down the instinctive fear we were feeling.

Finally, a girl came out of the store across the street from us and David turned to go talk to her.

“No. Way,” Liz sputtered out in shock.

“Seems like it. Look,” I nodded over to the two. Liz turned around just in time to see the two of them kiss and physically cringed.

“I guess there’s a match for everyone,” she sighed.

“You know, he probably does that as revenge for the time we egged his house,” I pointed out.

“He called me a whore! He was lucky we didn’t commit arson.”

I gave a noncommittal shrug.

A few minutes later we were inside Raul’s ordering. We shuffled over to sit in a booth but a kid bumped into Liz, causing her to almost drop her stuff. I suppressed a grin as he scurried out of arm's reach.

“My bad ma’am, I wasn’t paying attention,” he said, then scampered off without a word. She just waved him off and sat down. I cracked a smile.

Glancing over, the kid was taking his time not to rush out too fast. Smart. We walked over and placed our food down. Right before we sat down, I checked again. As he opened the door, I figured he had enough of a head start to make her sweat a bit.

“Liz, he took your wallet.”

“...What?”

“That kid. Your wallet. He has it.”

She stared at me very carefully. Her eyes narrowed as she began patting her pockets.I tried my best to keep a straight face but it was no use; my face broke out into a large grin.

“You bastard!” She shouted at me before sprinting after the kid.

I merrily waved her off and stole a couple of her fries before she got back. While I sat there browsing my phone, I noticed a girl staring at me. I stared back waiting for her to look away.

We sat like that for several moments before she smiled and got up. She walked over and sat down across from me.

“You and your girlfriend got into a fight?” She said lightly. A smirk hung from her lips as if it was carved into her face.

“Nah, why?”

She stared at me some more, before putting a card down on the table.

The card was pretty. It was translucent and refracted light in a way that gave it an ethereal aura. The black and pink palette was surprisingly tasteful for what it was advertising.

A bit of concern washed over me. The girl across from me looked like she was a year or two younger than me, placing her in her mid-teens. While working at such establishments was technically legal, the implications stirred my stomach.

She shot me a silent wink before getting up and returning to her seat. I shuddered.

I started to eat my burger, it was getting cold. A few minutes passed before Liz burst back into the building, her breath ragged.

“Fucking slippery piece of shit,” She moaned, splaying out into the booth. She shot another glare at me before going to drink her milkshake. The straw stopped inches from her lips as she noticed the card and snatched it.

A lecherous grin spread across her face. She let out a shrill whistle, causing me to flinch.

“So gonna get yourself a lapdance huh? Make sure you tip well, can’t have it going around. My best friend is stingy,” she laughed then tossed the card back onto the table

I cringed. “Fuck off, you know I’m not into that type of stuff.”

“Yeah, but it was either poking fun at you or a knee to the gut for letting that shitter take my wallet.”

Liz and I bantered for a while before we suddenly realized everyone cleared out of the restaurant.I glanced at the clock and it was seven forty-five.

We shoveled down the rest of our food before breaking off and rushing home.

I entered my house and walked into my bedroom; I sat on my bed for a moment in silence before noticing something was off.

There was a draft in the house.

That was odd.

I went downstairs to the front door, but the doors and window were still shut. I remembered an old trick for checking for a draft— I grabbed a lighter I had lying around and lit it, then held it up to the window to see if the flame moved.

Nothing.

I crawled down, feeling if the air was leaking from the door but it was sealed tight.

The only rooms with windows are my living room and workshop. The draft had to be coming from the workshop.

I had an odd chill run down my spine.

The workshop door I kept closed and locked due to having some… controversial materials inside. Besides some mana gems that I borrowed from cops and rich folk who were particularly careless, I also had some mildly illegal self-medicating plants and mundane contraband.

The windows there are always shut, sealed, blacked out, and locked for the same reason.

My gut gnawed at me in paranoia. This area isn’t the best; hells, about two years back I had to deal with a home invasion.

I glanced over to my workshop door. It was ever so slightly ajar.

I went upstairs and grabbed my gun.

I walked back downstairs, my heart rate slowly picking up. ‘Paranoia,’ I told myself, ‘I’m just being paranoid.’

I rounded the corner down the stairs into my living room. I slowly crept over to the workshop, gun level at the door. I edged my foot against the base of the door, then turned it, pushing the door wide open.