You have been trying to escape the merciless mercenaries for what seemed like days now, running from town to town. One of the bastards managed to get you, shooting in your good leg. You had to hide for hours until they left, limping desperately away.
The crisp air stung your face when you reached your limit. Collapsing, you pulled yourself towards what seemed like a wooden gate, and weakly knocked your fist against it.
When there was no response, you collapsed on the snow-covered cobblestone path that lead up to the strange building.
A peculiar feeling overcame you, perhaps it was the frostbite. You rolled onto your back and stared up at the snow that was drifting lazily down onto your face. As you started to black out, you reached your hand up to the sky, trying to touch the green light that was about to engulf you.
It was so bright, and so,
warm.
A smile crept across your face as you were lifted off the cold ground, and brought into the building.

Obnoxious laughter was all you heard as you ran. One gunshot, then another and another, your body was soon filled with gaping holes. You looked down at the holes as they grew bigger and bigger. Turning around slowly, you saw one of the mercenaries that attacked you. He seemed to be the youngest of the bunch, sporting a ball cap and dog tags with a normal t-shirt and rolled up pants that reveal long socks.
He walked closer to you.
"Sorry toots, but we can't all be winners"
One final shot to the head did it for you, as you collapsed.

You woke up with a scream, patting your body to feel for bullet holes.
A dream, it was a dream. You sighed, sliding down your bed frame. You were fine until you realized that this was, in fact not your bed. Or your house even, you can't remember the last time you safely lived in a house. The walls were cobblestone. You fist pumped as you figured out that whoever lived here let you in when you were laying in the snow.
But what about that green light?
Impossible, magic didn't exist! And if it did it was already branded by .
But part of you wanted to believe that it was some higher force that delivered you here, that it was magic. Well, it didn't matter now, you were hungry.
Creeping out of the room, you headed down the stairs and into what looked like a kitchen. It had herbs and spices hanging up, and vials of some strange glowing liquid. You kept your distance from the liquid, due to the fact that it may be radioactive. Rummaging through the fridge, you didn't find much, just some sour cream.
Well, food's food.
Opening it up, you recoiled at the mold growing on it. You set it back in the fridge when you heard a crackling. It was the green light again! So magic was real! You were happy, until you saw the source of the light.
It appeared to be an older man, due to his wrinkles and grey hairs in his eyebrows. He wore dark black robes, and a strange black cap that hid his hair underneath. His eyes were the most noticeable of all, being a crackling, electric green. He had a deep scowl on his face as his voice boomed
"Who dares enter the kitchen of Merasmus!"
You stuttered as you tried to talk back.
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't know this kitchen belonged to you!"
"Silence, mortal. I saved your pitiful life, now you will leave!" His voice echoed across the stone walls.
You began tearing up. You couldn't go back, not again. Finally, you resorted to begging.
"Please, please don't make me go back! I'm so hungry, and cold, not to mention that there are mercenaries after me!"
"Mercenaries?" He seemed very angered by that. Maybe you could use this to your advantage.
"Yes! Horrible brutes! They were the one who shot my-" You looked at your leg. It was perfectly normal.
"Did you, fix my leg?"
'Merasmus' pinched the bridge of his nose
"Yes mortal, I did. But you say you were attacked by mercenaries? What did they look like?" He sounded more curious now.
You explained to him the colour they always wore, and how there was a second set of the same mercenaries.
"Attacking civilians now, how pitiful."
"What do you mean?" you questioned him
"They're always in a constant battle for the 'intelligence' which is just filled with a few launch codes; I don't see the problem, honestly!" Merasmus responded.
"You mean this?" you pulled out one of the briefcases.
His eyes went wide as he tried to snag it from you.
"Ah, ah, ah! I'll give it to you if you let me stay."
"Mortal, you are holding one of the causes of a war, I suggest you hand it over to me and leave" His voice was filled with fear, clearly shaken by the briefcase.
"I thought you said you didn't see the problem." You said, confused
"Fine, you can stay. Just, hand that over!" He spoke, gritting his teeth together.
You handed Merasmus the briefcase with a smile.
"Why did you even take that? It was clearly important!"
"It looked cool." you responded, still going through his fridge
"It was on the ground, and I needed a briefcase for work, so I took it."
"That's not your real motive, I can sense it" Merasmus squinted while he spoke.
"Fine, but you can't kick me out if I tell you why."
You took a deep breath.
"It made me feel, powerful, having all of those launch codes. Like I had them wrapped around my finger, like I was important for once."
Merasmus began to chuckle
"So it's power you crave, mortal? We could make a few deals to make you all-powerful."
He put his hands on your shoulders while standing behind you, making you flinch.
"Imagine, you sitting on a throne of your enemies and bonus ducks!"
"First off, you're insane, second off, not that kind of power, third off-"
"How do I get in on this?" you said sheepishly.
"First! You must get a job, and buy me food!"
"Second! You must get rid of the stray racoons that plague me!"
"And Third! You must collect ingredients for my spells!"
"Sounds easy enough, shake on it?" You stuck out your hand.
The magician hesitated before he grasped your hand and shook it. You had a feeling this could be the start to something great.