Page 104 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

“Well, Walter.?” Bez slipped out of Mora’s demonic threads woven across the city. “Which is it?”

“Huh?” I bit my lip, stalling for a few seconds to think and keep from blurting the wrong thing.

“Walter?” Bez seethed; crimson eyes locked onto me with a hateful glare meant to wash away what he perceived as pity.

“Um, well, you see…”

Bez huffed louder than the ruffle of his feathers and flew away before I could scramble to put together one concrete sentence.

“Oops.” Mora placed her hand below her mouth, face wide with fake surprise. “Did I go and cause strife with the lovebirds?”

I furrowed my brow and growled, the essence stirring in my chest and ready to roar.

“Oh, you look so furious with your forehead all scrunched up with angry eyebrows.” Mora playfully plucked one of the hairs from my brow. “I miss you with glasses. You used to look so cute and confused. Now, you just look menacing and mean.”

“We’re not done,” I said through barred teeth.

“I’m sure we’re not, Wally.” Mora wiggled her fingers in a farewell wave. “Go find your boyfriend. I’ll deal with Collective drama. Amicably, of course.”

I flew off, chasing Bez.

It didn’t take long to find Bez. I followed his trail, flying past our home, around the city, skipping over most of his haunts since they were still under construction, and finally arriving at our store. The Well of Wonders also remained closed during thisrestoration period, even though it was one of the few places not entirely decimated by the devil attacks.

Bez trained in the back of the store, making use of his mostly untouched training room. A place where we used to spar regularly. A place that was meant to help me unlock and control my Diabolic abilities. A place I ignored now that I’d found my footing and gained an understanding of myself and this new path my powers had carved out on their own.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Bez had the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up as he struck a heavy training bag with his fist, rhythmic punches meant to hone his skills.

It wasn’t exactly a standard training bag, given we’d supplemented it with materials that’d withstand daily strikes from Diabolics. Even so, I routinely had to reorder the supplies and make new ones for the room. Guess after today’s training, I’d need to contact our old vendors, see if they were back in business after the near apocalypse.

“I wasn’t trying to protect you or anything,” I said. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I know you’re capable of—”

“I’m not worried about you shielding my feelings or my life.” Bez continued his punches, using his tails on several nearby speed bags. “I’m worried that I can’t keep up with you.”

“What?”

“You’ve always been so strong, Wally. You just couldn’t see it. Now you can. You are one-of-a-kind powerful. Beyond measure.”

“No, I’m not.” I folded my arms over my chest, trying to think of how to downplay Bez’s comments. “I’ve gained some understanding of skills, but I’m not one-of-a-kind. I mean, my essence is. But even so, it’s not that special.”

“It’s not the essence.” Bez stopped his training. “Yes, that adds to who you are, to what you can do, but you’ve always beenone-of-a-kind special. I’ve known it since I first laid eyes on you. You weren’t like other mages. You weren’t like other Aldens. You weren’t like other misfits. You were Wally. My Wally.”

I almost collapsed into a puddle of mush. Bez always knew the right thing to say.

“You know, these punching bags can’t offer the real training I need.” Bez loosened his tie. “And honestly, you’ve been getting a little lazy lately. Might need to smack you around until you remember your training.”

My face fell flat. Bez also knew how to say the absolutely wrong thing, too.

“Alrighty, demon.” I stretched my legs, flexing my foot in my hand as I limbered up. “You wanna change first?”

“I do my best work in a suit.” Bez leapt ahead in a blur, not even stating we were going, and attempted to strike me with his claws the instant we began.

I pivoted out of the way, dodging his movements as I slowed the perception of my senses. It allowed me to focus, to take a figurative breather as Bez struck furiously fast, even with time seemingly stalled.

His tails looped ahead of him, slithering at my feet in an attempt to trip me.

If I kept backing up, I’d end up crashing into the wall, but I could already see the fire building in Bez’s palms, ready to scorch me from whichever side I darted. With no other options, I jumped forward, and we tumbled to the floor together.

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