Chapter 48 – A Blaze of Emotions

Titus had lost all semblance of decorum, platitudes, and mercy. He gladly spent the two Mana that the fireball spell cost and, within the conjuration, he spilt all of the hatred that he'd harboured for his stepmother, Millicent, along with the new knowledge that she was now confirmed to be a witch. A witch who'd been casting some kind of spell of her own that the God of Balance recognised as a mental attack.

And that was how she'd turned his father against him. How she'd almost convinced Titus that he truly was the reason for his own exile from his father's bakery and off to the Arena. It all just made so much sense as to how everything had happened.

The only thing Titus didn't understand, or even care to try, was why. Why was this woman so evil and why had she removed Titus so that she could be alone with his father? But he didn't care for the why. Neither did he care for the how. Right now, he was nothing but rage and revenge.

As Titus cast the spell, the heat that exploded in his hands was almost a comfort. It was like his entire being wanted this to happen and although somewhere deep down, he knew that revenge was never really a good thing, he pushed down on those feelings. This was warranted. This was necessary. This was deserved.

And then Titus flung his hands out towards Millicent, who could only watch in horror and shriek as Titus' hands were illuminated by the small ping-pong ball-sized fireball that burst into existence between them.

She had no time to move.

Titus let the fireball go with all the might he could muster, and he watched it as it hurtled towards his evil stepmother with deadly intent.

Although something wasn't right.

For all the deadly intent that the fireball spell had within, it seemed far less deadly and a lot more, well, nonchalant. The fireball leapt from Titus' hands, but where he'd expected it to travel in a straight line to its intended target like a flaming arrow, it kind of sauntered around in mid-air like a drunkard, eventually deciding that Titus' target – his stepmother – was probably a good direction to go in.

The whole thing took about three seconds, which, to everyone in the room, felt like an eternity. It was almost comical in fact.

Eventually, without any interruption from any of the occupants of the bakery – not Jacob of course, who was still unconscious on the wooden table – the fireball landed on the tails of Millicent's dress and ignited a single, tiny flame there. Then, Millicent simply lifted a foot and stamped on the small fire, extinguishing it without a single worry.

Jordan stared at the place where the spell had landed with confusion written all over his face, but Petra, Petra was staring at Titus with her mouth open.

"You took a spell?" she asked incredulously. "You took a spell even though you know you're not… and you could have… are you a complete moron? Here I was thinking that at least one of the pair of you had something between their ears and then you go and do something as god damned stupid as that? And to try to use it on an unawakened? Do you know how much trouble you could get in if you'd killed her?!"

"I… What? That's what you're taking away from all of this? That I was stupid to take the spell? And what happens the next time we're in the Arena and you two can't fight the monster alone? What, you just want me to stand there again? At least now I have a way of dealing a bit of damage!" Titus raised his voice to match Petra's.

"Oh, you think that little flame of yours is going to come in handy against a monster, do you? You think you're some master Spellcaster now, do you? Tell me exactly how that worked out for you just now? Tell me about how you attacked a poor defenceless woman who welcomed us into her home and barely managed to scorch her dress!"

"How many times do I have to tell you!" Titus cried. "She's an evil witch, and she's cast a spell on you! I can see it, Jordan can see it, and if you'd just taken a moment to select something a little more useful for your stats, then maybe you'd be able to see it too!"

At that, Petra drew her Stiletto, all the while staring at Titus.

"Why don't you question my choices again, and we'll see who's better off?"

"Enough!" Millicent's shrill cry silenced the room, and it was so loud and abrupt that Jacob snorted from his table. "I've listened to you degenerates for long enough! And then you think you can try to hurt me? You think you can spoil everything I've built here? I want you out of this house this instant! Pick up your friend and go!"

"Hey uh," Petra said slowly, looking at both Titus and Jordan. "Was she always this shouty or is this a new thing? Because up until a moment ago I had no idea what the pair of you were talking about."

"This is what we've been trying to tell you!" Titus groaned. He spared a sideways glance at his father, but the expression on his face told Titus everything he needed to know: his father was both blind and deaf to anything Millicent did that would cast her in a poor light.

Jordan, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. "We should go," he said calmly, glancing at Titus and then at Petra, who still held her Stiletto tightly in her right hand. "Before this gets any worse."

Titus knew Jordan was right. They had overstayed their welcome and the situation was only deteriorating. He knew there was nothing he could do right now, and the rage that had come and gone had left him thinking that although he hated Millicent, there was probably a better way than simply trying to kill her. In the end, that was always going to be an option but in his new calm, he thought that beyond being an evil witch of a stepmother, she hadn't actually done anything too bad.

Titus glanced at Millicent, who stood rigid with fury, her eyes darting between the three of them, lips poised to scream again, and her hands shaking.

Petra eyed Millicent warily, not sure what she should be feeling at that moment, but she nodded in agreement to Jordan's suggestion. "Let's get Jacob and get out of here," she said. "The healers at the Arena will be able to look after him better than anywhere else anyway."

Silently, the three friends moved to lift Jacob from the table and as they did so, Titus couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. He now had more questions than answers about Millicent and his father, but there was a new question in the mix too. He'd taken a spell as his newest ability but it hadn't worked as he'd presumed. In fact, if the fireball he could conjure was going to carry on acting the way it had when he'd flung it at Millicent, he was going to remain as useless as ever when he next took to the Arena.

Millicent watched the group prepare to leave, her expression hard and unwavering in her anger and irritation.

"Remember, you're not welcome here anymore," she said, her voice sharp. "Don't come back."

That made Titus want to snap back at her, but seeing Jordan cradling Jacob in his arms made him reconsider. He could still hear the City alarm bells ringing outside the bakers so by all accounts, they could have more trouble to deal with on the way back home, and dealing with Millicent was something that could wait.

Once outside of the bakery, the cool night air did little to ease the tension among the group. Petra finally sheathed her Stiletto though, her expression softening slightly. "That was... intense," she said, looking at Titus. "Are you okay?"

Titus managed a nod. "I'll be fine. Just didn't expect things to go down like that. I mean, I always knew she was an evil witch, but that… that was something else. She can get into your head and… and…"

"I still don't see it," Petra said honestly. "But if you both say it got easier after you put a point in your Magic Defence, then I know that's the first thing I'll be doing when I hit level three. Just the thought that anyone could be manipulating me into thinking what they want, whenever they want…" she shuddered.

Jordan carried Jacob alone, and it seemed to Titus that it was actually a comfortable carry. The large Defender's strength was clearly a great asset here.

"We need to get back to the Arena as quickly as we can," Jordan said. "We can't risk getting into another fight, especially with this one like this," he gestured to Jacob. "I don't think he's going to get any worse, but the sooner he's in safe hands and inside, the better."

Petra nodded. "If we move quickly we can make it back in fifteen minutes. Plus, we might find others along the way, and the bigger we can make a group, the safer we're going to be.

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Titus agreed. "Plus the more distance between me and the witch, the better," he added.

"And your father?" Petra asked. "You don't think he needs saving from whatever that is back there?"

"Oh, he definitely needs saving alright," Titus said. "But whatever Millicent's doing, I don't think it's putting him in danger. Besides, did you see him just sitting there while she was screaming at us? A look like that… well let's just say that I don't think he'll even be giving us a second thought come tomorrow."

"But surely you…"

"I know. I'll go back when I'm stronger and I've got it all figured out, but right now I don't. It was stupid of me to try to attack Millicent. It was stupid of me to take the spell without asking for advice. I could've really messed things up, I know. But right now, we've got a goal, and we can deal with everything else later. We need to get back home." Titus emphasised the word home because that's exactly what the Arena was to him, especially now.

The group rounded corners and kept to the lighter, straighter roads as much as possible. They stopped at blind corners and remained vigilant every step of the way. It would make no sense to run into another group of goblins now, especially as they were so close.

"Do you think something's wrong with me?" Titus blurted out. A few minutes had passed in silence as they'd travelled, but the thought of the fireball was eating him up inside. Why hadn't it worked?

"Absolutely," Petra answered. "But what are you talking about, specifically?"

"I meant the fireball," Titus groaned. "It… it wasn't exactly what I'd been expecting. Have you ever seen anything like it? Or you, Jordan?"

"Nope," the large Defender replied without looking around. "Every fireball I've ever seen has flown straight and fast. What you did was more like a, um… flaming spitwad."

Petra laughed. "That could be your new nickname!"

"Don't you dare," Titus warned. "In any case… do you think I'm broken? Like, is this as good as I'm ever going to get?"

"The Gods I hope not," Petra replied. "Because right now you're about as useless as a spider in a bathtub. The only difference being that Jordan would be scared of the spider."

"Hey!" Jordan complained.

Titus' thoughts turned to the what-ifs. What if this was as good as he could get? What if his special Capacitor Class just messed everything up? Or the other option, what if because he'd chosen a skill outside his Class, this was his punishment by the God of Balance.

Titus stared at his two friends. He could only hope beyond hope that something would change for him, and that he would become useful for them both because if he didn't, then they would be well within their rights to find a new third member of their team.

"Hey Titus, don't worry though," Petra looked back at him with a smile. If you're wondering how long we're going to carry you for, I wouldn't worry; by the looks of this one," she gestured over her shoulder to Jordan, "he makes a good pack mule."

Petra had read Titus' mind, but Titus wasn't laughing. Nor was he looking at Petra. He was now staring over her shoulder at Jordan, who was slowly and quietly lowering Jacob to the ground. When he'd finished, Petra turned around in time to see Jordan quietly readying his sword and shield at something that only he could see.

Titus and Petra both ran up to Jordan, Petra readying her Stiletto and Titus readying himself to take Jordan's sword again.

Jordan held out the sword for Titus to take without even looking around, knowing that was what he wanted.

It didn't leave Jordan empty-handed this time though, because hanging from the Defender's belt on the far side was the battleaxe that Jacob had brought with him. Jordan had commandeered it for himself.

But when Titus and Petra had reached Jordan, they both saw what had caused the Defender to stop.

Before them stood a creature the size of three men, in one hand a huge, curved blade and in the other, dangling by his ankle, a terrified citizen.

Jötnar Warrior

Level: 7

HP: 1000/1000