Desperation and Surprise

         “Fathers are supposed to be strong.” Elliott hollered. “We’re supposed to protect our family, be providers, lead them, teach them…” His voice trailed off into the darkness. A sob caught itself in his throat. He wouldn’t cry. That was one line he absolutely refused to cross while doing this.
         He’d had to get away from his house for this unpleasant business. This wasn’t one of those occasions when he particularly wanted to be around his family members. After all, it was the feeling of failing them which caused him to feel lost in the first place.
He had a decent job. True, it wasn’t great, but the bottling company was the only real source of economic stability the small town of Midway had; and, ever since all the layoffs, to even be employed was considered a blessing. The problems started when they received a call from the school. Jake, their middle son, had gotten in a pretty serious fight. Elliott had to take off early to go to the school and talk to the principal. The punishment was straightforward. Jake’s behavior had gotten progressively worse lately. He was going to be expelled. Elliott was positive it was because of his lack of proper teaching of his son.
         On their way home that day, the car broke down. No, broke down didn’t describe it well enough. The engine nearly exploded, with very little warning. Elliott was certain that had been his fault, as well. Too much hard driving, especially on that day.
         It became one thing after another once that happened. The roof developed a leak. His oldest daughter had been bullied at school. Their dog bit the neighbor and they had to pay for the medical bills. On and on it went. Soon, it was money that became the major issue. He could fix his own shortcomings with teaching his children and leading his family, but he couldn’t make more money appear. Now, with all the expenses, he couldn’t even put food on the table. That was what brought him to this point.
         Elliott vented only the minimum necessary information to the man he had pinned against the wall that made up the side of the grocery store. There was very little light, but enough for both of them to make out the other. The blade Elliott held out to the stranger’s throat was intimidating by itself, but the desperation in his face and tone was what truly gave it an extreme level of danger.
         “I’m sorry for your troubles, friend.” The man responded to the would-be mugger very calmly. “But I can’t help you.”
         “Don’t you understand that you’re about to die?” Elliot whispered, but the threat was genuine.
         “No, actually, I’m not. What I am … is a wizard.”
         A pulse of light exploded from the man’s chest. Immediately the knife was torn apart at the molecular level. The man gave Elliott only one, brief, knowing smirk before slamming his hand against his attacker’s chest. Elliott felt a surge of energy course through his body, and he stared at his intended victim with eyes like grapefruits.
         The stranger’s eyes were equally wide.
         He questioned Elliott. “How are you still standing?”
         Elliott smiled. “I left out a little information earlier. I live in Midway.”
         Panic instantly flooded the wizard’s face.
         “That’s right. My son got in trouble for fighting because he nearly tore the other kid’s face off. The engine nearly blew up because it was powered by Myst energy. The roof leak? That’s because the acid barrier wore out. My daughter? Bullied by two shape shifters and a group of trolls. The medical bills? Well a cloud hound’s bite is more lethal than any viper’s. And, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, I’m a weave eater, and a very old one, at that. I may not be able to control magic, but there’s no spell you can weave together I can’t absorb.”
         The wizard had gone completely pale. Midway and weave eaters were only spoken of in wizard circles in the same manner that Hades and minotaurs were to the ancient Greeks. The man was certain he was going to die.
         “So let’s try this again.” Elliott echoed a statement he’d made previously. “I need your valuables. That means anything I can sell…on any market.” It was clear he meant any wizard relics the man happened to have.
         The man took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. He was now motivated by fear ... and compassion. “I’ll make you a deal…”

† * † * † * † * † * † * † * † * †

         “That’s why restraint is so important, Jake.” Elliott finished another discussion with his son in the back yard of their newly, magically, renovated house. “Do you understand?”
         “Yeah, dad. I get it.”
         The two hugged, and Jake ran back into the house. Elliott moved to the side of the building, just past where a magically conjured band of trolls and shape shifters were being masterfully bested in a verbal jousting round by his oldest daughter. He continued a little further to a small patch of grass where a certain wizard was using three colored orbs to train a much more cooperative cloud hound.
         “Everything going okay?” Elliott asked.
         “Yeah.” Came his reply. “I switched the energy in the car to planar energy. Much more stable. The renovations on the house will keep those acid storms from affecting anything of yours for at least another century and your other issues are either solved, or well on their way. Just don’t start snacking on my spells and you shouldn’t have any issue.”
         “Hey thanks, again for helping me out.” Elliot said happily.
         “Yeah no problem.” The wizard replied, while laughing. “Thanks for not eating me.”