January 1, 2009
 

It's gray out today.

Isn't that what people put in their journals? Junk about the weather, what they had for breakfast, in which article of clothing their cat threw up...

  

You'll have to pardon me. I'm not used to this whole journaling thing. But it's a new year, and that makes it a good time to start new habits, right? And my sister's been on my back about it for Maker knows how long, saying, "Now, Michael, journaling is good for the soul." Over and over again, every time I talk to her. Pah.
 

But actually, the real reason I'm starting this journal is because of that ridiculous lawsuit against David. Seriously, I've worked with the guy for years. He's one of the best magehunters I know. And they're suggesting that he acted outside of his realm of authority? Okay, so he reversed gravity. I would've too, if I'd been in his shoes, forced to bring down Rick Sykes solo. I mean, come on people, the creep was trying to split David right down the middle! And besides, he restored gravity right away, once the jerk was out of commission. It's not like anybody got hurt. But now there's a lawsuit, and an investigation, and the media's going nuts with it, of course... So it's been 'informally recommended' that we keep good records of our actions.

  

So here goes. What exactly does one write in a journal, anywa...

  

...

  

Aw, crap. Next time the doorbell rings, I ain't budging. I can't believe the new year's barely started, and I've already got an assignment. Hand delivered, to boot. Can't stand those prissy little delivery guys they hire. Act like they know everything, and of course they're SO much higher class than a lowly magehunter. Morons, the lot of them.  
 

This one really took the cake, though. I open the door, and he's standing there like he owns the world, looking down his nose at me - pretty easy for him, since he's one of those lanky Urnets, at least six and a half feet or so, and here I stand, a dinky little Rilven barely topping three feet. So then he says - get this - "Are you Michael Hughes, the witch hunter?" I wanted to stuff his pretentious little messenger cap down his throat at that. Yes, people, there is a difference between magehunters and witch hunters! Magehunters are FORMAL AUTHORITIES, working in an institute created by the government, to police the activities of mages. Witch hunters are the morons who think all magic is inherently evil and therefore try to kill anyone who uses it. BIG difference, thank you very much!
 

But of course, when I said as much to the brat, he just sniffed and said, "Same difference." I had to use every ounce of self-control in my body to keep from turning his car inside out or something.
 

So here we are, barely ten hours into the new year, and I've got an assignment. Peachy. Things'd been so quiet over Christmas, I thought for sure we were finally getting a well-deserved break. No such luck. Looks like it should be pretty easy, though. Tatiana Willsey. (Hmm, how do you spell 'pseudonym'? Ha.) Yeah, I've seen a few of her commercials on TV, offering the 'true path to spiritual enlightenment.' I'd always figured her for a low-class con artist, giving people a simple, magical mood lift when she's near, which in turn inspires them to pay money to be near her. We barely even bother with those. If people are dumb enough to get that taken in by a sparkly-eyed mage, then they deserve to lose a little dough. But apparently word is sneaking around that she's got something much bigger behind the scenes, involving a large-scale deception and potentially harmful magic usage. Which is why they've assigned me to investigate her.
 

At least she's a Lilyan, so she's guaranteed to be shorter than me. Those dinky little fairies are easily intimidated. Gives me a good edge. Of course, on the other hand, being a Lilyan means she has a lot deeper understanding of magic, too. Them's the trade-offs.
 

It's funny to think about. David still says the Maker's biggest mistake ever was letting the rest of us have magic. It's funny to hear him go at it with Silas, like a couple of boxers. No, Silas says, it wasn't a mistake. If the Maker hadn't given magic to all the races, then the Lilyans could've used their magic to enslave us all. Pow, biff. Don't be stupid, David counters. Lilyans have always been content to keep to themselves. It probably wouldn't have even occurred to them in the first place. Bam, sock. Back and forth, over and over again, while the boss just rolls his eyes and goes back into his office.
 

They both have good points, but come on. After we discovered the Lilyans on their little island, and saw what they could do, we were bugging the Maker day and night, shouting and whining about how unfair it was that they had powers we didn't, and demanding that the Maker give us those abilities, too. Yeesh. Yeah, I really do think we were idiots. The Maker warned us time and again - can't have power like that without some kind of consequences. The Lilyans warned us, too, but no one listened to them. Like little kids, we saw that we didn't have something that someone else had, so we wanted it. And when they warned us, we said they were just trying to keep the power all for themselves.
 

I don't necessarily think that giving us magic was the Maker's biggest mistake. I think He knew exactly what He was doing. He'd warned us over and over that it wasn't good for us, and we kept making a big fuss over it. I figure He got tired of it and finally gave us what we were asking for. We sure got what we deserved with that one. I mean, yeah, it's cool to create rain and make crops grow faster, but is it really worth the children who can level cities with a single temper tantrum? Is it worth the serial killers finding new ways to torture their victims, even more horrible than any decent person could ever imagine? 
 

Well, I should be okay with it, I guess. It's what gives me a job. And I'm not too worried about taking on a Lilyan. I was at the head of my class at the mage academy - I know how to handle magic. And I've got a few unique tricks up my sleeve. In fact, I can probably go check this out and be back home in time for Silas' party this afternoon.
 

Piece of cake.