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Illura Tabletop Drabbles

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A full three days, and Hayden was still having issues figuring it out.

The 'it' would be their power -- the magus' power -- that differed from one person to another. According to their magical acquaintances, it would come to them in a few days, maybe more, depending on the type of power it was.

After all, if it was a power for fighting, well, Hayden hadn't exactly had plans to fight any youma. In fact, aside from the unease that came from not knowing their power, Hayden was more than happy to continue living their life, avoiding the conflict of youma as much as possible.

..of course, this didn't mean that they wouldn't occasionally spy on the two people they've come to know. The fact that they knew they were magical, and had powers, too -- there was a urge of curiosity that was sparked, one that Hayden had only felt when they became so engrossed in learning about the sea.

For now, though, Hayden had been listlessly looking through a book, flipping through the yellowed pages. They had an essay that needed to be done, so Hayden thought it'd be best to take studying to the library, where they could take some notes in peace and quiet.

...or, that was the plan.

There wasn't many people in the library that day, but the two that were, or, at least were nearby Hayden, were talking away, with no disregard to the fact the place was supposed to be silent place to study.

Grumbling, they would try to ignore them, gently dog-earing a page as they would write down an important note. More chatter would try to drill into Hayden's ears, as they would focus their attention on their paper -- shoot.

Their efforts to try and keep calm only had made them write too fast, and press the pencil too hard against the paper. A groan leaves their mouth as they grab their eraser, removing the mess of a scribble they made with their pencil.
'Stupid, stupid people...' Hayden would mutter, applying more pressure against the paper. Why didn't they leave, and go somewhere else? If only they could get them to leave, if only they had the guts to actually talk to them, to force them out of here...

There's a small sound -- some sort of beeping? -- and Hayden lifts the eraser, eyes narrowing.

Did they seriously think they could have their phones on here, too? Oh, that was the last straw, to think that people would be that ignorant to bring electronics to a library--

The next moment, Hayden found themselves colliding with the ground.

Blinking, they tried to confirm what had just happened -- they had fallen backwards, it seemed, with chair in tow, leaving them in a rather peculiar position. The two who have been talking had halted their conversation, just a moment, only to continue gabbing about who knows what. Thanks for the sympathy.

A small whine would then come from the pit of Hayden's throat. While the chair falling backwards, and bringing Hayden along for the ride had hurt, there was something else that was just now registering in their head as being in pain as well.

And god, it hurt.

Carefully, Hayden would bring their left hand towards their face, their breathing hoarse. Somehow, in some way, their entire hand, even some extension of their arm, was bright and raw, barely resembling the creamy skin that had been there just moments before. The question of how was shoved in the back of their head as they carefully rose to their feet, racing to the bathroom. Quickly, they would turn on the sink, and after testing the water, shoved their damaged hand under the frigid liquid.

At first, their entire hand would spike in pain, questioning whether or not this was a good idea, but a minute passes, and they find their hand numbing, enjoying the steady fall of water against their reddened skin.

Hayden's breathing, by then, had started to steady, allowing them to concentrate on the situation before them.

" did this happen...?" they would quietly ask to themselves, turning their hand slowly about under the refreshing stream of water. The injury was definitely a burn, at least of the first degree, but possibly to the second degree in some areas by how red and ravaged it looked.

The thought of going to the hospital crosses their mind, but the thought of explaining how puts them, once again, it a puzzling situation. How would they explain something that simply happened out of no where? All they had been doing is writing down notes, listening to the infuriating sounds of the two people nearby, and erasing their mistakes on the paper...

Once Hayden's found that their hand had been soothed, temporarily, by the water, they make their way out of the bathroom, examining their workstation.

Aside from the fallen chair, everything seemed normal, from the book to the paper that laid there -- if anything, the paper seemed to be pushed a bit to the right, the pages of the book had flipped well before the page they've dogeared, and the pencil they had had rolled off the desk...

They would take one more glance at the desk, then the ground. But what happened to the eraser they had?

Careful not to use their injured hand, they would pack up their things, placing the book back on the shelf they've found it at. But, no matter where they looked, even after bringing the chair back on it's feet to see if it had fell underneath, there was no sign of the eraser.

In any case, they needed to at least bandage their hand up -- with how much their skin had warped and peeled, it was impossible to use their hand without at least protecting it with something. The pharmacy proved to be an effective stop, caring to avoid anyone looking at their hand as they rang up the purchase of some bandages, along with some antiboitic cream, to treat their wound.

Ok, they had bought some candy, too. But at a time like this? They needed something to cheer themselves up.

Once they had left the store, Hayden would carefully apply the cream to any serious spots, then wrap the bandage around their hand, starting from the fingers, and ending just inches short of their elbow. Trying to move their fingers, even slightly, caused a searing about of pain to race up their arm. Thankfully, if it persisted, they could always go back in and buy pain medication, but the fact that an injury this great had happened in the course of a second...

Suddenly, Hayden would gasp. This couldn't possibly be...

But, looking at how their hand was, how impossible it was to become injured that quickly, the only answer would have to be magic. So, why would their power --if it was their power -- have to be one that hurt them? It was counter productive.

Then again, it was their first time using such a power. Maybe there was a way to use it without hurting themselves in the progress? As dangerous as it was, Hayden yearned to know more.

Once they're sure their hand is securely wrapped up, they would find somewhere a bit less crowded, just a small alley that didn't attract much attention. And as they walked, they replay the order of events, idly popping a piece of candy into their mouth as they tried to think.
Thinking about it now, they had definitely gotten mad before their hand suddenly had sustained that injury, and whatever did happen, they had fallen backwards, hadn't they? So, maybe anger was the trigger, and the power used a lot of force, enough to push them backwards and cause a nasty injury.

Which, honestly, brought them back to square one -- how to actually use this bizarre power without hurting themselves. Or, maybe to learn how to never use this power, ever? Why did they agree to become a magus, anyway, if this was the result? Why, oh why had they been so stupid --

They would snap back to reality when they heard a small, but very familiar sound.

And, taken by the surprise, they would let what they had been holding -- just a piece of candy -- slip out of their fingers, falling to the ground..

...and promptly watched it burst, an explosion of flames and heat swelling upwards.

While the explosion wasn't massive, it had definitely hit them, and they could feel the heat. But something was different this time. But what?

"Woah, what's cooking in here?"

Ironically, the sudden voice had helped Hayden conclude what was going on. Whether by fate, or otherwise, they had turned into their magical form just in the nick of time, warding the impact from severely injuring them. They would even wonder if they had been injured at all, given how little their outfit was sullied by the fiery assault. Their moment of being thankful, however, was short lived. For whenever they would take on their magical form, they would also have the unfortunate company of their talking, unconventional weapon.

"Oh, I get it~! You've summoned me for dinner! Watch out, I might taste a little fishy!"

Did they mention that they were really punny? And a fish? Oh, they were so bad at puns. They did not have the time for this.

And yet, it was remarkable that Hayden had the patience for them. ", I'm not eating you." They'd assure the fish, "I just used magic, I guess." With everything going on, Hayden wasn't sure how else to really put it.

"Oho, so I'm saved! You're such an angelfish, sparing a wee guppy like myself....but magic? So that's why I'm here!" An obvious statement, one in which Hayden blatantly ignored.

As they would peer down in search of remains of the once colorful candy -- they could hear their weapon woefully ask why they weren't speaking, only to ignore them further -- Hayden would kneel down, hesitating before touching the charred pavement. Still warm, and brittle to the touch, now that that magic, that explosion, had occurred. There was no sign of the candy, however, meaning that had of perished in the flames.

Hayden, feeling the pressure of the fish pressing against the back of their head, pleading for attention, would bring them to their final straw, reverting themselves to their non-magical, mundane form. There was no need to hear more of them whining about how they didn't get the attention the claimed to need!

The fish being there, however, meant that they did use some magic. And, if the candy had been effected in such a manner, disappearing after an explosion like that, would it be the same for the eraser they once had? Things were finally becoming clearer.

Cautiously, Hayden would dig through there pockets, finding the leftovers of the candy they had been eating. Even more carefully, they would pull a single piece out, setting it down in front of them, focusing their aggression on it.

Nothing, thankfully or not, followed.

"Strange," Hayden would mutter, as they would go to pick it up -- and would hear a sound, a small, monotone beep that they were growing quite accustomed to hearing.

"So it's based on touch," they would start, before suddenly backing away. If it was by touch, then what was that sound? Was it telling them it was going to blow up? Was there any control on when? After a minute of slowly scuffling backwards, the lack of explosion meant that there had to be some other trigger. There was no way Hayden was going to pick something like that up though, not like this.

Quietly, they instead would try and focus more of their tempered thoughts, their anger, towards the object, waiting for some response. And boy, a response was found, as suddenly, Hayden was once again found in magical form, doubled over by the sudden burst of magic and flames.

Maybe an alley, even one this remote, wasn't the best answer to a power like this. But Hayden was growing to enjoy this power, and soon enough, they would have set their sights on a goal to use this newfound power --

-- to finally, finally, bring justice to the people that Hayden had grown to hate more than anyone.