My ex-boyfriend had rough, well-worn hands, more befitting of a farmhand than a sorcerer. The scarring and bruising ran deep, and adorning his right wrist was a deep carving, surrounded in burn scars, that acted as an arcane focus. Holding his hand could feel like massaging a cheese grater.
His face was a very different story. Practically disconnected from his hands, his face was soft, and seemingly untouched. He looked almost like a baby with his large black eyes. It was fitting considering how often he cried. His jet-black hair was pulled back into a pony tail, that he would set every morning revealing his small pointed ears.
It was complexing how someone like that could ever take a life, let alone multiple. I would wake up some mornings and find blood dripping onto my side of the bed. He couldn't even be bothered to wake me up, so I could get a good look at his face. Any wounds inflicted the night before, would always be gone by morning, the only remnants being the smell of burning flesh being spawned from that carving. I could go the rest of my life without ever smelling that repulsive scent ever again.
I woke up this morning; the smell of grease, salt, and hot chocolate filled the bedroom air. I completed all the basic necessities and opened shop. Many rich snobs would come with their enchanted and cursed items, for inspection and, typically, price evaluation. This was unfortunately where the demand for artificers lay in the Sapphire City. My collection of romance novels and enchanted weapons sat stared at me from behind as I worked. Including my large industrial cannon.
The candle-light flickered blue onto its metal frame, illuminating runes carved deep into its surface. An enchanted weapon on this scale was a work of art. A complete wonder how I ever managed to get my hands on such a powerful weapon. It would require a large, practically illegal, amount of energy to fire. A shame I had never gotten to see it before now.
Some of the guys that came into my shop were conventionally attractive. However they lacked a certain grit and mystery I preferred. Not that I should even be thinking of any customer in that light, but it is rather fun to imagine any person walking into my shop as a potential love interest.
After finishing the day and organizing my coin, I finally found opportunity to relax and read. Just as I had settled in to my comfy chair, and found my page before a large rumble disturbed the entire room. A candle falls from my desk, however the enchantment keeps the fire from extinguishing or spreading. After getting up I lifted the flame disconnecting it from the wick, and cupping it in my hand. Another rumble. An earthquake? The largest rumble yet hit at this moment. I jumped up for a moment, before seeing a sleuth of movement from outside my window.
Equipped with nothing more than slippers and a nightgown, I stepped outside leaving my footprint in the deep snow. A large mechanical body swallowed the street in mass. It barely squeezed in; scraping the sides of the neighboring buildings with wing and tail. A smaller creature stepped out onto its hull and directed its inappropriately large staff toward me.
"Dr. Lapys! I understand you carry a large light based runic weapon." The creature stated in overly formal common.
"Yeah, probably?" I responded despondently. However my heart had skipped a beat, and I was taken aback by his sudden request.
"I require you turn it over immediately!" He squeaked out from above.
"Why?" I asked. I looked the dragon up and down starting at its curving, steel-plated tail and working my way up to its red ember eyes. Looking deeper within, you couldn't find a soul behind them.
"Because if you don't, I am prepared to give your home a DIY sunroof, with my giant fucking laser cannon!" He offensively dodged my question.
"...okay" I finally responded. His squeaky little voice left me in disbelief. More questions that answers. But this definitely wasn't the Wizard's Association come to retrieve contraband. If it was, I probably would've forgotten I ever had the cannon by this point.
I wheeled it outside. This was difficult considering its hefty weight. Once outside I dropped it creating a large *CLANG* as it collided with the stone street. At this point the runes had already began glowing a dim red just by being in range of this beast. It wasn't enough though.
"So, what do you even want this for?" I asked off-handedly. Crouching to inspect the wheels of the cannon
"None of your business!" The voice shrieked back! "Just leave it there and go inside!"
I rolled a small glossy ball beneath the cannon. I watched as it silently slid into the foot of the dragon, lodging itself between its two ferocious claws. "It's just weird considering you supposedly already have an enchanted cannon. Two just seems like overkill."
"I'm gonna give you to the count of three! Trust me, its better for the both of us, if I don't reach 0!"
The ball lying about 30 feet beneath him began illuminating red. "Three!"
I dropped a now glowing blue orb into the back loading side of the cannon. "Two!"
My anxiety level rose sharply with my heart rate as the barrel of the cannon began filling with light. I could feel my entire body seize up for just a second. The counting had halted as the dragons maw pointed toward me.
Instead of teeth or tongue, it was like staring down at the wrong end of a gun. In that moment I realized "The pre-pubescent bastard wasn't bluffing!" Quickly lunging myself to the grou-
Light in both directions was blinding.