Astymagos

Astymagos: From the greek words “Asty” (city) and “Magos” (mage/magician). Synonyms: Urbanomancer, Urban Wizard.




  Jonas watched the cars on the road in front of him. Another busy street in Athens, during another busy Friday night. Most people were eager to go back home, their cars getting trapped in traffic- the few pedestrians watched him and his friend for a second before getting lost in their own thoughts, surrounded by the cold night.
          “Any news from our guys?” his friend asked. He was holding a paper cup full of hot coffee, steam rising in front of his face.
          “Not yet,” he replied. “It won’t be long, now- their journey wouldn’t take more than three hours. They are bound to be on their way back to the Door.” he added. He was, of course, lying. Their plan, detailed beyond anything else they had ever made, was clear. Five hours were more than enough for them to go down, mark their path for future use, and then get back up. They were supposed to inform them of their exit and meet them three city blocks southwards. The members of their team were careful, skillful and experienced in such matters, and thus a delay would only make Johnas more anxious. What if something happened down there? He didn’t even know if they could communicate with them.
         “Man, I hope they make it quick. I’m bored! We’ve been walking around for the past six hours!” his friend said before sipping some coffee.
         “You think I enjoy this shit? I’m as bored as you are. But we have to take care of our part of the plan, as you can understand…”
         “Oh, I understand it alright. It’s just that we checked the area around the point of entry so many times that it’s getting on my nerves!”
         Jonas stared at the other man,an exchange student from the United States, but said nothing. The student was not really young- Jonas had seen teenagers with more knowledge than his American pal- but his lack of patience was surprising. In their line of “work”, being patient and double checking all possible “what if”s was common. He voiced his thoughts.
         “Double checking, triple checking, quadruple checking… It’s always the same, Greg. You always take care of any kind of situation that might lead to trouble, and then you worry about anything that you might have forgot. It does not matter whether you are a hunter, a scout, a planner, or even a leader… Hell, it’s even worse when you’re a team leader. And it’s much, much scarier when you’re a top-side scout. You have to take care of everything without even knowing what is going on down there.”
     Greg did not reply. He knew that Jonas was right. He stayed silent for a moment, watching the city lights, before leaving the cup besides him on the wooden bench and buttoning up his jacket. It was warmer in the past few days, but autumn finally remembered that it had to pay a visit to Athens, bringing clouds, rain and chilly afternoons with it.
     Jonas fished a battered pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket, took a cigarette and lit it. He promised to himself that he’d quit it, many years ago, but his position as a scout in a small team was a job that screamed for a smoke once in a while- especially during the important or dangerous stuff. So much for quitting because i didn’t need it any more, he thought. Thanks a lot, you assholes.
      “Hey,” Greg said, eyeing a white and blue car turning around a corner with a long blue light on top. “Another patrol?”
      “There were two more earlier, weren’t there?” Jonas said, watching the car, trying to imagine the police officers inside.
      “Yeah,” Greg said. “Just a coincidence?” he added, raising from the bench.
      “Coincidence, synchronicity, or someone who knows what we’re trying to do and decided to stop us in mundane ways. Come one, we’re leaving...”
      “Do you really think that someone would go to the cops and tell them that a bunch of random people try to enter another world for an occult way to-”
       “There’s no reason to do that! Just tell them that there’s a team of burglars, or whatever, in the neighborhood and they’re bound to come sooner or later. It’s easier than stopping us our way when you don’t know who you are up against!”
      “Fair enough. I’m willing to bet that it’s just a coincidence, though…Let me guess, we can’t take any risks, right?”
      “Right,” Jonas said. “You’re finally starting to think like one of us,” he added absent-mindedly. He searched his pockets for his cell phone, a half-burned cigarette screwed between his lips. He wrote “WHERE R U? COPS COMING. CAREFUL!” and sent it.
      “Here we are,” Greg said, ten minutes later. He showed a burned down building further down the road, his hand shaking from the cold. The point of entry.
      Jonas felt relieved. It would be easy to hide in there, under the protection his team created around the old decrepit house. They would stay there as long as they needed to. Stay until the rest of the team emerged from the city-like hellhole, or until they decided that they were lost forever.