《The Aptly Named Book of Lost Wisdom Volume 2》 Chapter 1 - The Secret I can never hope to convey the pride I feel in being the familiar of Prince Eric and Prince Dahr. Nor can I describe the pain of being unable to come to their aid in their current predicament. I will not share with you the rage I feel toward the parties responsible for my separation, for that rage is theirs to experience. Such rage is a private matter to be shared only with those who have been unfortunate enough to earn it. When I find those parties, and I assure you I will, there will be a reckoning. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Seventeenth of Learning 1142 Chapter 2 - Piecing It Together Chapter 2 ¨C Piecing it Together Life contains many mysteries. For example, I have no idea why people worship gods who have no real reason to help them. A god is a power beyond anything we can imagine. It would be like me helping a beetle. Why would a god be at all interested in what I want? The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Seventeenth of Learning 1142 Please, my goddess, protect them. They¡¯re our sons. Guide them back to us. I will always bear whatever burdens you require, but I beg you, do not take my sons. I fear that would break me. You are stronger than you think, King Terrence of Twyl. And I will protect your sons if it is possible to do so. But there are other forces at work here, and as much as I would like to, I cannot guarantee their safe return. Other forces? Forces so great even you can¡¯t influence them? If you can¡¯t, then how can my sons? Because there are things that mortals can do that the gods cannot. Chapter 3 - The Getaway It seems more and more likely that Striker is responsible for the disappearance of Prince Eric and Prince Dahr from the palace at Rish. Most people are assuming she is the enemy we have been waiting for, but Maynor has often said that drawing conclusions in the absence of facts can be dangerous. Is it possible she is an ally? Every piece of information we get only raises new questions. It¡¯s like having to solve a maze that you can¡¯t find a way to enter. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Seventeenth of Learning 1142 Chapter 4 - The Seeds of Distrust It is far easier to be suspicious of a person than it is to trust them. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Seventeenth of Learning 1142 Chapter 5 - The Awakening There is not much I miss from my life before I appeared in this world, but if I had to pick one thing above all others, it would be dreaming. In dreams we can be or do anything. I no longer sleep, so I no longer dream. There is no time of day that I can shed my limitations and become something more. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Seventeenth of Learning 1142 Veloran¡­ Captain Jericho is on his way here with instructions from the king to attend him at the palace. What they¡¯re about is dangerous business. It is not honorable. I wish you to do the right thing. That said, there are many reasons for you to be in the temple today. That you will be needed here is a certainty. No, but if I were you, I would carry the potion on your desk with you everywhere you go. Deftly done. No, Veloran. You really don¡¯t. Chapter 6 - Temple Shenanigans When standard strategies fail, extraordinary strategies must be employed. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Seventeenth of Learning 1142 Veloran¡­ You might want to drink that potion I gave you. That would be ideal. What the hell is going on? I can be ridiculous if I want. Who¡¯s going to call me on it? Princess Chari, you are on a quest for me. Some would call it a holy quest. Which of the people who proudly display their weapons in my temple would object to those weapons being used on a holy quest for the goddess herself. You¡¯re spending too much time with Prince Eric. Would you have hesitated two weeks ago? What do you think? Chapter 7 - A Holy Quest Because of my situation, I am often on the outside looking in. My attachments and my duty are often one and the same. But every day I see people make questionable choices based on misinformation, fear or desperation. I do not believe I have the capacity for self-deception that others do, but then I wonder if that itself might not be a form of self-deception. If Dahr or Eric were here, it is a discussion I could have with them, but they are not. And so, every step of the way, I am forced to question my motivations to make certain I am driven by duty rather than fear. Kalutu, The Book of Lost Wisdom Seventeenth of Learning 1142 I did not. It was a pleasant coincidence. I do. That includes coincidences. We¡¯re waiting, my friend. Of course you may ask. That means I¡¯m not going to tell you. Dear Veloran. Everyone has it tough. Not everyone comes through it and retains some goodness. The girl is worth the investment. Whether it pays off or not, time will tell. Are you? Just this morning, you were talking about retirement. It¡¯s what you needed, Veloran. Not just the weight of responsibility, or the position of authority. You needed human contact again that was more than just peripheral. The girl will be good for you. It¡¯s time you remembered why you became a priest in the first place. We will come with you. Can you not feel the link between us, master? Or two masters. The rules do not seem to apply to you. You might want to get used to this. I don¡¯t think it will change any time soon. I think it might be all of us. I was in no danger. I would have phased before she could strike me. It¡¯s time to talk to King Terrence, Veloran. Chapter 8 - The Brighter Side of Undeath We know very little about the undead, and I know less than most. After all, I wasn¡¯t present with Prince Eric and Prince Dahr when they encountered them in the Other Realm, and they¡¯ve told me precious little about their experiences there. I wish I had pressed them for more detail when I had the chance. I¡¯ll eventually have to learn what I can from Princess Chari, for I feel in my heart that they are the enemy. If that isn¡¯t the case, why would the gods have trained the young royals to fight them? Kalutu, The Book of Lost Wisdom Seventeenth of Learning 1142 You want to level again? You need to start trusting me, Dahr. I only want what¡¯s best for you. Is Eric hurt? Did he come to harm? If I allowed him to continue to attack, what do you think would have happened? What would it take, Dahr, for you to start trusting me? You¡¯re not just a boy anymore, Dahr. You¡¯re a Nexus. And you will change the world. In fact, it¡¯s already begun. You need time to learn your class. Study the threads Dahr, and I¡¯ll reward you with another level. I won¡¯t do that, but he¡¯s perfectly safe. In fact, in some ways, he¡¯s never been better. You¡¯ll be seeing him soon enough. Have patience. More like you and he will be going to the same place. Be happy, Dahr. Kalutu is busy recruiting. You may not realize it yet, but Lost Wisdom is growing by leaps and bounds. Chapter 9 - The Test It seems the easy thing to do is seldom the right thing. I wonder how that can possibly be the case. Surely the easy thing and the right thing must be the same at least some of the time. Is it some cosmic conspiracy that makes each choice before us a burden of conscience? At the moment, this is not a problem I have, as I have been guided by circumstance, reacting rather than deciding, and I¡¯m getting tired of it. What I wouldn¡¯t give for a decision that I had some agency over, even a difficult one. It seems better than being at the mercy of events. Kalutu, The Book of Lost Wisdom Seventeenth of Learning 1142 So you would let the enemy have this battle? Of course. You know nothing of war. Even though the undead are building massive armies within the borders of Xarinos? You disappoint me. I had assumed you¡¯d be smarter. So sure you are. will tell me. Why did you examine her?¡± finally, he would get the recognition he so richly deserved. Chapter 10 - A New Role The wrath of the gods is terrible to behold, or at least I imagine this to be the case. An enemy can break your body, but the gods can break your soul. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Seventeenth of Learning 1142 You are my sword when I need you to be, my justice when there is no other choice, but above all, you will be my voice during the hard times to come. As you have already experienced, it will be difficult. You may refuse, if you wish. He raised a sword against you, after previously attacking you. Which of your subjects would deny you the right to defend yourself? And what do you think holds more weight, being your citizen or being my servant? Your law or my judgment? If I were a witness against someone, what defense do you think they could offer to counter that. Citizens of Twyl have rights, because humans can get it wrong. You have to figure things out. You aren¡¯t present at the scene of most murders. Witnesses don¡¯t remember things correctly sometimes. Human justice depends on determining someone¡¯s innocence or guilt. If a human commits a murder, I don¡¯t have to try him to know that he has done so, because I was there. I am a witness with perfect recall. I know the motives of those involved. I know if a being intentionally killed another or if it was an accident. In your kingdom, in your court, you may do as you please, but those tried in my court don¡¯t have the same rights, because there is nothing they can say that I do not already know. I am the goddess of honor. Sometimes, honor makes demands of us that are uncomfortable. Are you my servant first, or the king of Twyl? Most of the time, you can. But there will be times when you will have to choose. I wish I could reassure you, dear Terrence, but I fear there will be more days like this. You must remember that this was a victory. You were in time to save Lord Ormund¡¯s soul. He will be different, but he will heal, and that¡¯s thanks to you. Of course you would have. You always know where your subjects are. It¡¯s one of your skills. My sister Iorana will want to examine it. What happened to Captain Jericho is not something I can easily explain. Somehow he was compromised and that shouldn¡¯t be possible. He was under another¡¯s influence. I don¡¯t think so. She was not telling you about the armies of the Undead King, she was telling me. My sister and I haven¡¯t spoken directly for a long time, but she has ways of letting me know what she wants me to. Oh, she definitely was. But I doubt she believed you could be turned. It is simply her way to try. Sarith may be reprehensible, but she has no love for the Undead King, of that I am certain. Sarith has spies in many places. It may even be that she has spies in Xarinos. But if she were truly allied with the Undead King, she would not reveal the existence of his hidden armies. My sister never lies. Whatever is happening in Xarinos, she chose to share that information for a reason. We can surmise she didn¡¯t do it out of any sense of duty. She wants something. But that is my problem, not yours. You have a kingdom to run. Chapter 11 - My First Dungeon! Even after spending some time in a dungeon, I don¡¯t really understand them. They make no sense. It almost seems as though the person who created them wants to keep you out and yet wants you to get through them at the same time. If you really want to hide treasure, there has to be cheaper, more effective ways to do so. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Seventeenth of Learning 1142 a dungeon! For many adventurers, it represented the ultimate challenge. And though she was trying to find her husband, it didn¡¯t take away from the fact that she was on a holy quest for the goddess in her first dungeon. It felt unreal. She was only fourth level, and here she was with a team of nothing but familiars. If she lived to tell this tale, no one would believe it. Assuming there would be a tale, as she had yet to get past the corridor she was standing in. I don¡¯t mind. It feels good to be useful. It has been a long time. The pit is not wide. If I mark where it starts, most of us can jump it. I can make it. As can I. I don¡¯t think obstacles like that are our biggest concern. This place is crawling with trodara. Too many to count. Chapter 12 - A New Beginning Twenty-Eighth of Birth 1116 - 26 Years Ago It was dark. Oppressive. Striker felt pressure all over her body, like a warrior in plate armor had decided to take a nap and use her as a bed. She had yet to realize she was underground. She didn¡¯t taste the dirt that fell into her mouth, though she felt it. She shook her head to clear it, and more dirt drizzled down into her eyes, onto her cheeks. What the hell? As soon as the fog in her mind started to clear, Striker realized what must have happened. She struggled frantically through the loosely packed earth, coughing up dirt and small rocks. She was alive. Alive! She remembered the kreve, pictured it as if it still had her clamped in its massive jaws, but when she checked her body, no injuries corresponded to that recollection. Had she dreamt it? No, she was sure of that. It had happened. No dream could have possibly been that vivid. The pain, the stench of its breath, the sounds of bones cracking. There is no way she could have survived that attack. What did that leave? There was only one possible conclusion. She had died, after all. Was this the afterlife then? She looked around. It was dark, but that didn¡¯t seem to impair her vision as much as it should have. She looked up, but there was no moon tonight, or it was hidden behind clouds. She was standing next to a grove of trees as out of place as she was. Short stunted trees to be sure, but trees nonetheless. The patch of dirt from which they grew was an island in a sea of rock. That rock extended in every direction for quite a long way. That she could see that far disoriented her further. She looked down at her bare feet and realized she was naked. Whoever had buried her must have stripped her. She tried to imagine what condition her clothes must have been in after the attack and immediately understood why. What she didn¡¯t understand was why her body wasn¡¯t in the same condition. The possibility that she had become undead, become the enemy, didn¡¯t occur to her even then. So she assumed she was dead, and no one was around to correct that misconception. She had no idea which way to go, though the ground sloped up in one direction, which might give her a better view of the surrounding area. Well, she had wanted adventure and got it. In the future, she would confine her search for excitement to the times she was sober. A lesson learned the way most of her lessons had been learned¡ªtoo late to do her any good. After what seemed like hours of navigating rocky terrain, she noticed a figure somewhat below her, walking with what appeared to be a limp. She made her way to him, carefully climbing over areas where the rock had cracked and in some cases had risen up, making the going treacherous. He finally noticed her approach and stopped to wait for her to catch up. The first thing she noticed upon reaching him was that he had the bushiest eyebrows she¡¯d ever seen, as if he¡¯d pasted two caterpillars to his forehead. In most other ways he was nondescript, brown hair with just a hint of gray in it, brown eyes that seemed to blink just a bit too often, thin, cracked lips and a nose that would have been large enough to dominate his face, if it hadn¡¯t been for those remarkable eyebrows. Under other circumstances, she might have been embarrassed by her nudity, but her desire for information eclipsed every other concern. ¡°Are you all right?¡± he asked. She could hear the concern in his voice. ¡°Is it that obvious?¡± ¡°Sometimes, rebirth can be disorienting.¡± ¡°Rebirth?¡± ¡°You were dead, and now you are not.¡± ¡°Not dead?¡± ¡°No. You are reborn.¡± Striker studied the man suspiciously. ¡°Reborn? You mean I¡¯m undead.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what humans call us.¡± ¡°I¡¯m human.¡± ¡°You were.¡± Striker started to reply but stopped herself. Was it true? She reached inside, searching for that piece of Sheba that was always with her. She scoured her mind, exploring it as she had explored the landscape, but there was nothing¡­nothing¡­something? Something. An entity lurked within her, but it felt nothing like Sheba. It occupied the same space, but took up less room, somehow. It felt like it was there, and yet not there at the same time. Like if she paid too much attention to it, it would fade. Who are you? They call me the Undead King. What do you call yourself? Nylus. Why have you done this to me? Done what? Saved your life? No. You robbed me of my death. Did I? I don¡¯t recall doing that. Perhaps you don¡¯t know as much as you think you do. I know enough. But even as she thought it, she realized it wasn¡¯t true. She only knew what people had told her over the years. Her parents, the priests, she didn¡¯t believe most of what they said, so why should she believe this? I am no longer connected to Sheba. That is true. When you die, the tether to your god is destroyed. I hate it. I¡¯m sorry. Are you? Yes. Is it so hard to believe that I care about my people? Striker had no answer to that. She had been following Eyebrows while this conversation went on, not paying attention to her surroundings. So she was surprised when she saw tents up ahead. Several reborn were in evidence. They all looked human, but they weren¡¯t, and she knew it immediately, though she didn¡¯t know how. Without waiting for her to ask, Eyebrows explained. ¡°The reborn can always sense living beings. As reborn are not alive, at least in the sense that most use the word, you can immediately tell the difference between us and them. Humans aren¡¯t as fortunate.¡± ¡°Where are we?¡± ¡°This small village has no name. There are a number of these encampments along the border, far enough inside so that we¡¯re unlikely to be discovered by human aggressors. Our main function is to find new reborn and help orient them. As you might have noticed, it can be overwhelming.¡± As they approached the camp, a number of reborn emerged from tents or stopped what they were doing to welcome her. Striker had met groups of people quite frequently in her travels, but she had never seen a group of strangers react in such a friendly, open manner. She wondered if it was just an act, or if they were always like this. Already she was beginning to rethink everything she¡¯d learned about the undead. ¡°Why do the undead need tents?¡± ¡°So that if a human patrol makes it this far, at first glance, we look human. It gives us a chance to react, whether that means fleeing or fighting.¡± ¡°Do you fight more often than you run?¡± ¡°We do.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because if we don¡¯t, we will die. Humans are fond of their borders, but they do not seem to notice ours.¡± Striker thought about the statement and intuitively knew it to be the truth. The undead weren¡¯t thought to be sentient or civilized. The people of Death¡¯s Doorstep saw them more like dangerous animals that needed to be put down. They didn¡¯t acknowledge the border because the border to most humans was a boundary they didn¡¯t cross to stay safe. She had never once thought that the undead knew that boundary even existed or considered it a border from their point of view. She wondered what else she didn¡¯t know. She learned that Eyebrows was the leader of this small community, and that he pretty much left everyone to do their own thing as long as they did what needed to be done, which was to find recently reborn humans and explain to them their new situation. Eyebrows felt the job was important, and the others seemed to echo the sentiment. Over the days that followed, Striker settled in quickly, used to dealing with new groups of people. Someone had found her something resembling her old, worn leather, and she didn¡¯t bother to ask where¡ªor who it had come from. All of the undead wore some sort of clothing, most likely to fool humans that got close enough to the camp to see them. She found out that the reborn didn¡¯t need to eat or sleep, so there wasn¡¯t that much cleaning up to do. They didn¡¯t get cold, so they needed no fires. In fact, since fire was the one thing that could prevent them from coming back, they tended to avoid it. They didn¡¯t have to, they just did. It reminded her of when she was younger, how she used to sneak out onto a ledge over a canyon and look down, drawn by the danger and the fear of falling. Some people avoided heights and some people enjoyed them. The reborn had that same sort of reaction to fire. She enjoyed her time in what she began to euphemistically think of as orientation village. For the first couple of weeks everything was fine, and then she started to get sick. It started slowly. She felt run down. Tired. Those in the camp, most of them, were confused, but a couple of the more experienced reborn had seen it before. After a time, it was determined that Striker had a defect. Her rebirth had suffered a problem. She was told it could happen if a person was buried too far from the center of Xarinos, or when the wounds that caused death had done so much damage that they couldn¡¯t be fully healed by the process. She had to laugh. She couldn¡¯t even die right. Eyebrows explained it to her one night, while sitting around the non-existent campfire. In any human camp, it would have been there. She was still human enough to mourn its absence, though she didn¡¯t attempt to build one, out of respect for those who feared it. ¡°It seems that you have a life force leak. It¡¯s probably not a leak, but it¡¯s what some of us call it. We get our energy from ambient magic. We absorb it. It¡¯s balanced, for most of us, so that we have all the energy we need. If we¡¯re more active, we absorb more. You don¡¯t absorb enough magical energy to sustain yourself. That¡¯s the bad news.¡± ¡°Is there good news?¡± ¡°There is. The power that creates reborn almost always provides a way for them to survive, even if they¡¯re reborn flawed.¡± ¡°The power that creates reborn? Not the Undead King?¡± ¡°No. Reborn predate the arrival of the Undead King. He is our leader, not our creator.¡± That was news to Striker. ¡°Well, I feel like crap, so what do I do to feel better?¡± ¡°If I had to guess, I¡¯d say you have the ability to drain life force from living beings.¡± Striker frowned. ¡°I¡¯ve heard stories about creatures like that. It¡¯s not an attractive quality. I hope by living beings you don¡¯t mean humans.¡± ¡°Most beings kill to survive. They kill in self defense. They kill to eat. We¡¯re no different. But as to what your specific ability is, you won¡¯t know until you try it.¡± ¡°You just want me to walk up to some defenseless animal and suck the life out of it? I¡¯m not sure how I feel about that.¡± ¡°How do you feel about continuing on as you are, until you slowly fade away?¡± ¡°Not great. So, what, I just find an animal and try to drain it of energy?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the starting point. See if it works.¡± There wasn¡¯t much else to say, so they sat there, listening to the night sounds, enjoying each other¡¯s company. The comfortable silence between them made Striker feel like they were old friends. She wondered at that, considering how recently they¡¯d met. The next day, Striker set off into the woods¡­to hunt. The irony was not lost on her. She had once been a human servant of Sheba, who tracked down her next meal with a bow. Now she was a reborn servant of the Undead King using a completely different set of powers, but she was still a hunter. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. She spotted a small mammal poking its head out of a burrow. It looked like an improbable cross between a squirrel and a groundhog. She had seen them around, but didn¡¯t know what they were called. As she watched, it slowly turned its head to look at her. She expected the creature to dart to safety, but though it clearly saw her, it didn¡¯t flee. Striker moved closer, cautiously. The creature sat and watched as if waiting. She spoke to it in a soothing voice. ¡°I have no idea what you are. I have no idea why you¡¯re so cute. And if you don¡¯t escape soon, it will be too late for you.¡± The creature sat and looked at her. Innocent. Helpless against whatever new power she possessed. She was closing in on it now. Soon she would be able to reach out and touch it. And drain the life from its adorable brown-furred body. It made a slight chittering sound but didn¡¯t seem alarmed¡­more expectant. ¡°Go, shoo!¡± she yelled. The animal ducked back inside and vanished, unaware of how lucky it had been. Striker shook her head and chuckled. Stupid. She had hunted all sorts of creatures while she was still human, but now that she was undead, she suddenly had a conscience. It seemed backwards to her. The problem was, she needed to eat still, just differently. When had she become so squeamish? But even as the question formed in her mind, she had an answer. Striker herself had been hunted and now knew what it felt like. She understood the pain, the terror, the hopelessness, and she wasn¡¯t sure she could do that to an innocent animal. And yet, could she let herself starve? What if that was the right thing to do? No. Sheba was the goddess of the hunt, and if she needed energy to survive, hunting was hunting. She felt foolish now for letting the creature go, but it reaffirmed a commitment to her new existence, at least for now. The next animal she came upon, a stag, reacted to her in the same manner. She¡¯d seen mages use spells that did the same thing. It just stood looking at her, when it should have fled. But it didn¡¯t. It trusted her. And that, to her, was the worst part. This wasn¡¯t a contest. There was no real chance of it getting away, and for that reason it felt wrong¡ª but not wrong enough to prevent her from draining it. The process came naturally to her. She placed her hand against the stag¡¯s side and felt the energy flow out of it. She paused before she drained it completely, intuitively aware that it would develop life force back over time. The problem was, if she left it this way, it was vulnerable. Slower and weaker than it would have been. It would be a meal for some lucky wolf if she didn¡¯t finish the job. Reluctantly, she started draining again and had to admit, when it was done that she felt better. She left the carcass for the scavengers and continued her hunt. She wondered how many animals would have to die for her to sate her hunger and how often she would have to go on a killing spree. The answer to that question turned out to be a lot. She needed a lot of animal life energy to keep her feeling mostly well. She wondered if she¡¯d eventually hunt so much that she¡¯d have to move on, just to keep her energy going. At least she didn¡¯t have to suck the life from humans. It had been one of her greatest fears. Striker didn¡¯t mind being undead as long as she was able to retain her old morality. She didn¡¯t want undeath to change her¡ªwell change her more than it already had. Not having to eat, for example, was a great benefit. She¡¯d spent many days hungry when she¡¯d finally decided not to return to her parent¡¯s house. That would never happen again. But that boon had been offset by the fact that nothing tasted right, or rather, everything seemed to taste the same. She wasn¡¯t sure why this happened, but it definitely put a damper on eating. The good news was that food extended the magical reserves she had stored. That was another thing she didn¡¯t understand. Another thing she simply had to accept. Being undead was filled with trade-offs she hadn¡¯t bargained for. For example, she was stronger, faster and had more endurance than any unleveled human, but she could never level again. She didn¡¯t feel she¡¯d done enough wrong in her life to deserve spending the rest of it as a Level 4 Hunter. That¡¯s what she told herself. But there was another part of her, the part that had been told for so long that she wasn¡¯t good enough, would never be good enough, the part that had been beaten and punished and lectured day after day, year after year, that wasn¡¯t so sure. The constant fear that she had done wrong, would continue to do wrong, drove her to do right. She would never consume a human, because it was wrong, and she knew it. That much she could do. So she hunted and drained and hunted some more. And then one day, when she was looking for her next victim, she ran into something more than she bargained for. She sensed him even before he came into view. A human being. What the hell was he doing wandering this far into the Plains? Even from this distance she could see he was a warrior. He wore a sleeveless chain mail hauberk and carried what looked like a two-handed sword in a scabbard on his back. She watched him from the distance. He seemed to be looking around, but for what, she couldn¡¯t say. She felt it unlikely he was there to kill undead, since any human looking to do that would have come with a team. So what was he doing there? Easy enough to find out. She¡¯d walk up and ask him. It¡¯s not like he could tell she was undead¡ªreborn. She had to start changing how she thought if she were going to be able to live with herself. She approached cautiously, but openly. She didn¡¯t want a trained warrior to think she was sneaking up on him. ¡°Hello,¡± she said, as soon as he noticed her. ¡°Hello.¡± She looked him over and liked what she saw. He was muscular but not musclebound. He had a thick neck and broad shoulders made even broader by the hauberk. He¡¯d have been rather scary if his face hadn¡¯t been so kind. He had shiny black hair that reached his shoulders, and a matching neatly trimmed goatee. He might have been in his late twenties. His eyes were gray-blue and intense. He stared at her, as if he¡¯d never seen a woman before. ¡°What are you doing out here? It¡¯s not safe.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°There are undead around here. You haven¡¯t seen any?¡± ¡°Nope, no undead.¡± Just us reborn. ¡°Aren¡¯t you afraid?¡± The concern in his voice touched her. ¡°No, not really. I¡¯ve heard that they¡¯re not as dangerous as people say they are.¡± He looked at her suspiciously, but then his expression turned curious. ¡°You don¡¯t think they¡¯re a danger?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s a relief. Are you looking for them?¡± ¡°Looking for them?¡± He studied her. ¡°I¡¯m trying to find an undead. I¡¯m¡­curious.¡± ¡°Curious? You want to join them?¡± He seemed reluctant to admit it, but she could tell that¡¯s what he wanted. He didn¡¯t answer, but stood frozen, as if he were a child caught doing something he wasn¡¯t supposed to do. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she said. ¡°Tell me, why are you in Xarinos?¡± He dropped his gaze but answered. ¡°I was thinking of¡­dying. And coming back.¡± ¡°I see. It¡¯s not that uncommon.¡± ¡°How do you know?¡± ¡°I¡¯m one of them.¡± ¡°Wait? You¡¯re undead?¡± ¡°I¡¯m reborn. That¡¯s what we call ourselves. Only humans call us undead.¡± ¡°Reborn?¡± He said the word as if he were tasting a new dish for the first time. She could see him rolling it around in his head. ¡°It sounds a lot friendlier.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not monsters. We¡¯re people. People who have died and come back, but still people.¡± ¡°Well, if you¡¯re anything to go by, I guess I have to agree.¡± He smiled at her, and his teeth were white and perfect. She wondered what level he was. She wondered why he wanted to die but didn¡¯t ask. ¡°I¡¯m Trace, but my friends call me Striker.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Anth. Can I call you Striker?¡± ¡°You can. How about we walk back to camp, and I explain to you some of the benefits and drawbacks of being reborn.¡± ¡°That would be great. Can we sit for just a little though? I¡¯ve been walking for a long time.¡± ¡°Sure. I don¡¯t get as tired as I used to, so I forget. Take as long as you like.¡± Striker sat beside him. They were like two friends. He didn¡¯t build a fire, but it wasn¡¯t that cold. Well, she didn¡¯t think it was. It wasn¡¯t like she could feel the cold anymore. But he seemed comfortable enough. He was studying her, and she wondered what to say to get him to open up. ¡°So, did you have any questions?¡± ¡°A thousand. If only I could put them into words.¡± Striker laughed. ¡°You have a beautiful laugh.¡± ¡°I bet you never thought you¡¯d say that to one of the undead.¡± He looked startled when she said it. ¡°I guess I don¡¯t really see you as undead.¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m not. I¡¯m reborn, remember?¡¯ ¡°Right. Reborn. I have to get used to that.¡± ¡°It took me a while too.¡± She didn¡¯t bother to tell him how recently she¡¯d made that adjustment. ¡°So, I¡¯m not sure of the etiquette in these situations, is it okay to ask about how you died?¡± ¡°I¡¯m pretty new, so I¡¯m not sure either, but I was killed by a kreve.¡± Anth winced. ¡°That sounds painful.¡± ¡°It was. Where are you from?¡± ¡°Loralei. I was a guard on a merchant caravan to Death¡¯s Doorstep. It was strange listening to people talking about the undead there. We¡¯ve had a treaty with the Undead King for so long, we don¡¯t really have the same sentiments about Xarinos as most of the world. And I hadn¡¯t traveled that much, so it opened my eyes a bit. And I had to admit, I was curious. I mean, the whole world hates Xarinos, and we don¡¯t. So maybe we were wrong. I just felt like I had to find out for myself. It seems too important for me to leave it to rumor. ¡°So I wandered across the border and met you. If first impressions are anything to go by, I think the people of Death¡¯s Doorstep got it wrong.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve had a change of heart about them myself, but it¡¯s early days for me. Still, nothing I¡¯ve seen suggests humans need to fear the reborn. It¡¯s like I¡¯ve lived my life so close to Xarinos and yet never thought to challenge what people were saying. My family, the priesthood¡­everyone. Sometimes I wonder how a people could get so bad a reputation.¡± Anth sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Like I said, it¡¯s not what I grew up with. I wonder what the reborn have to say about humans.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know that the reborn speak with one voice on the subject. All of the reborn I¡¯ve met started as humans and still have some attachment to that. I¡¯m not sure we can ever really separate ourselves from humanity. But of course, I haven¡¯t been reborn for long enough to know that.¡± ¡°Well, if the reborn needed to send an ambassador to sway my opinion of them, they did a pretty good job sending you.¡± Striker wasn¡¯t sure she could blush anymore, but she probably would have had she still been alive. She really liked Anth. And as she sat there, something she never expected began to happen. She became aroused. She hadn¡¯t really thought about the reborn having sex but couldn¡¯t deny her body was responding to the man who sat near her. She was drawn to him in a way she¡¯d never been drawn to a man before. Was it him, or something about being reborn that drove her reaction? She leaned closer, they hadn¡¯t been that far apart in the first place, and searched his eyes. She didn¡¯t know what would happen. She thought he might flinch away, but he didn¡¯t. He returned her gaze and waited. His gray-blue eyes blazed with intensity. She leaned closer and closer and he leaned in to meet her. And when their lips met, it was like the stories she¡¯d heard growing up about people finding their perfect other. Except he couldn¡¯t be her perfect other, could he? After all, he was human, and she was reborn. But the kiss felt amazing. It send a jolt through her. She was already removing her clothing, and trying to help him off with his armor at the same time. Within minutes they were both naked. She pushed him back and climbed on top of him, leaning down to kiss him again, but then pushing herself back up so she could watch his face. She¡¯d never experienced anything like this and finally knew why some women craved it. They writhed together as if they were dancing. There was a rhythm to it. The sensations captivated her completely. Nothing existed but their bodies and their primal lust. And when she thought it couldn¡¯t get more intense than it was, she threw back her head and screamed, too involved in the act to notice the echoes that heralded the moment for all to hear. Finally spent, she collapsed on top of him. And she lay there. She wasn¡¯t panting since she no longer drew breath. She look down and smiled. Like a typical man, he¡¯d already fallen asleep. She nuzzled into his neck, and imagined what the warmth of his body against hers would have been like had she been able to feel it. This¡­this is what she¡¯d been missing in her life. This closeness. This intimacy. And to think she had to die to discover it. Anth lay beside her, completely spent. She wondered at her future, then. Might he stay with her after his rebirth? Could two reborn have a long term relationship? Would he even want to? He certainly seemed to enjoy himself. Her hand brushed the grass they were laying on, and it was dry, sharp and tough. She was on top, but it couldn¡¯t be very comfortable for Anth, whose naked body must have been very uncomfortable indeed. He must be so exhausted. The passion, the energy¡­and then she felt a chill run through her, but it wasn¡¯t physical. ¡°Anth?¡± He should have been panting. Breathing heavily¡­but she couldn¡¯t hear his breath at all. She could hear animals breathing from quite far away with her superior reborn hearing. She tried to rouse him but knew even then that it was pointless. ¡°Anth¡­¡± Just a whisper, because he couldn¡¯t hear her anyway. There was nothing she could do. Striker had taken her first human life. She carried him back to camp, feeling horrible and amazing at the same time. Guilt made it impossible to enjoy the energy coursing through her, even though it was so exhilarating that she couldn¡¯t ignore the sensation. She had killed a man, and it felt great. The human part of her hated the feeling, but she couldn¡¯t deny the pleasure it brought her. She kept telling herself that he had come here to die, so she hadn¡¯t really done anything wrong. Fortunately, the energy provided her with the strength and speed to carry him all the way back to camp. As soon as they saw her, the others gathered. There were hushed whispers, but Eyebrows was the only one who addressed her. ¡°What do we have here?¡± ¡°His name is Anth. He came to join us. I found myself attracted to him and him to me. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew¡­¡± She ran out of words. She couldn¡¯t admit what she had done aloud. Eyebrows, however, didn¡¯t have the same issue. ¡°You drained all the life from him.¡± She nodded. ¡°Place him down on the ground. We¡¯ll take care of him.¡± Striker complied, still not trusting herself to speak. ¡°You have powers now, Striker. And with those powers comes responsibility.¡± Eyebrows gestured toward the body, and one of the men beside him lifted it and carried it off. Eyebrows and two others followed him. Striker watched until they were out of sight. Then she sank to her knees and dropped her head as if she still had the right to pray¡­or a goddess to pray to. She had killed a man, and though it had been an accident, she¡¯d enjoyed it. She embraced the thought for a while, because she needed to be punished for what she had done, and there was no one else to do it. She had always known she¡¯d been born wrong. But now she wasn¡¯t just disobedient, she was a murderer. She had taken a life. The only shred of hope she had was that Anth would come back and forgive her. Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. She repeated it over and over again in her mind. She stayed that way, on her knees, offering a prayer that no god would ever hear, until she sensed someone approach. She opened her eyes and looked up. It was a reborn woman, watching her. ¡°You¡¯re upset.¡± Striker nodded but didn¡¯t speak. She didn¡¯t have words to defend her actions. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be. They¡¯re not like us. They¡¯re not worthy of your grief. Humans are what¡¯s wrong with this world. You didn¡¯t hurt that man¡­you saved him.¡± Striker didn¡¯t respond. She didn¡¯t know how. The reborn woman waited a short time, then shrugged and walked away, leaving Striker alone with her guilt. For two days she knelt there. A day ago, she¡¯d have had to have gone hunting to keep her energy levels up, but not this time. The life force inside was still there. She wasn¡¯t¡­hungry, for lack of a better word. Well that was something. As soon as she thought it, she cursed herself. She shouldn¡¯t be happy benefiting from another¡¯s misfortune, particularly misfortune at her hands. She dropped her head and continued to wait. If the day grew cold or the sun was hot, she couldn¡¯t say, because she no longer felt it. She no longer felt anything except self-loathing. And then, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, he was there. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Her eyes had been closed, but she opened them and looked up. She pushed herself to her feet and took a step toward him, but the rage in his eyes stopped her in her tracks. She dropped her head and answered his question. ¡°No. More importantly, are you okay?¡± Anth sighed. ¡°I came here because I was curious. Not because I¡¯d made up my mind. Now I have no choice. That¡¯s on you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You¡¯ll never know how sorry I am.¡± ¡°Why should I care? I came here to learn the truth about the undead, and the very first one I met drained all the life from me. How do I know you¡¯re not all like this?¡± Before she could answer, Anth turned and walked away. She wanted to say something to stop him, to explain, but the ability to speak had deserted her. Like so often in the past, when her parents had scolded her, when the priests had lectured her, Striker retreated into herself, trying to make herself as small as possible, so that they would feel some sympathy and stop. It hadn¡¯t worked then, and it didn¡¯t work now, but of course, Anth had no reason to be sympathetic. She had accused the Undead King of robbing her of her death. And she had done the same to Anth. Striker never saw him again. Never even tried to seek him out, because he had been right. He had no reason to listen to her excuses. He had no reason to forgive her. And she had no reason to forgive herself. She had been a servant of Sheba. She had been honorable. Now, she was just a murderer. Her family had been right. She was broken. A few of the reborn came to her after that, trying to reassure her that she hadn¡¯t done anything wrong, but Striker didn¡¯t hear them. She didn¡¯t want to hear them. She had murdered a man, and there was no one to punish her. That night, she walked away from the reborn encampment and never looked back. She didn¡¯t deserve their help or support. She didn¡¯t need it. What she needed was redemption. And she wouldn¡¯t find it in a reborn camp. Striker traveled west and never set foot on the Plains of Xarinos again. Chapter 13 - The Right Tool for the Job I have often heard it said that it is important to use the right tool for the job, probably because using the wrong tool isn¡¯t very efficient. This obviously makes sense. It must be nice to know what you have to do. If I were a blacksmith, I would have a hammer and anvil. If I were a hunter, I might have a bow. But I am neither of those things. I¡¯m a familiar to two masters, with a bevy of my own familiars, in a dungeon for the very first time. I¡¯m not sure they even make the kind of tool I need. Worse still, if I managed to find this tool, I probably wouldn¡¯t recognize it. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Seventeenth of Learning 1142 Did Striker leave them? Kill them? Hand them off to someone else? Congratulations. You have reached Level 13. New skill unlocked, Soul Salve. Goodnight, Queen Treya. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Chapter 14 - Its Not Magic No matter how far you get from where you started, everything eventually starts to seem familiar. People have the same motivations no matter where you end up. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Seventeenth of Learning 1142 / October 4, 2023 Chapter 15 - The Long Journey Twelfth of Birth 1122 - Twenty Years Ago A gentle breeze blew over the Fellowship on a day that seemed to say that all was right in the world. The branches in the trees rustled, and their chorus was reassuring. The wind sent tiny ripples across the lake, and the sun glinted off the top of it, making the surface of the water sparkle like gold. The grass, emerald-green under the radiant sun, shimmered as the morning dew slowly evaporated. And then the screams began, cutting through the scene like a scythe, reaping the crop of serenity and replacing it with something darker. The sound came from a small house set perfectly on a rise to prevent flooding; a quaint dwelling in good repair, brightly painted, perfectly matching the tableau. The setting inside the house, however, was quite different. Four gray-robed figures were present inside, all crowded into the bedroom, where a woman struggled to give birth. The small room was cluttered with books, various rocks of different sizes and shapes, articles of clothing strewn about haphazardly, some clean, others already worn. A small collection of masks adorned the wall beside the bed, the only thing in sight that seemed ordered, as if those masks held a place of honor all their own. The onlookers stood side by side at the foot of the bed, matching robes forming a wall of gray. Expressions of concern etched their faces. The oldest was a thin man of about seventy, with wrinkles woven into his weathered face. His bald head displayed no facial hair and his eyes were a milky-white, clouded as they were by the cataracts that covered them. Any normal human would have been unable to see the woman on the bed, but the man saw her perfectly, using skills that most people would not only never possess, but would not have even heard of. The woman beside him was about sixty. Her short, curly hair completely gray, but it seemed to suit her. The wrinkles about her mouth spread throughout her face like a series of hair-line cracks forming on an icy lake. The whiteness of her skin added to the effect. She was set apart from the others by her black belt. The other two wore belts of dark gray. The final woman had light-brown skin completely unwrinkled in spite of her advanced years. But determining how old she was would have been difficult. Many thought her to be in her thirties, but no, she was older than that. No matter what age you might have first assumed her to be, something belied it. Her once auburn hair was now streaked with gray. Her silver eyes were as clear as the man¡¯s were cloudy. Her nose was hooked like the beak of a bird of prey and her thin lips frowned in sympathy at the woman on the bed, who lay prone, writhing in pain. She had kicked off the covers, and they lay forgotten on the floor. The formerly white sheets were stained with sweat and blood. That the woman would die was a given. None of the three standing at the foot of the bed doubted it. It had been foreordained and would happen as surely as the sun would set. They tried to comfort the screaming woman, but even she knew she was dying, so the only comfort to be had was to live long enough to make sure the child survived. That much she could do. They stood silently throughout the vigil, or at least, it would have appeared that way to any outsider. In reality, they were talking telepathically to each other as was their way when there were no outsiders about. They were kindred, who the world at large called the Fellowship. Today would be a day of celebration and mourning. The babe arrived at the appointed hour, a girl, as they had known it would be. At the moment of birth, a gentle breeze blew through the window, cooling and comforting the sweating mother, who gratefully acknowledged the breeze and honored it by naming the child after it¡ªZephyr. She never spoke the name aloud, but they had all heard it in their minds and that was enough. Only when she was sure that the child had lived and was healthy did she release her hold on life, fading away joyfully. She left behind three kindred to mourn her passing in whatever way they chose, for this too was the way of her people. The screams of pain were replaced with the sound of a newborn crying. There was death and there was birth, as always, and Zephyr would be with them. But Zephyr was special, and they all knew it. They had been waiting for her for a long time. For Zephyr, named for a gentle breeze on a perfect day, was the sign that the kindred were to once again find themselves returned to the larger world. It marked a momentous moment in history, even if none of them understood it. The first Undead War was still five years away and when it arrived, they would refuse to honor their alliance with the Undead King, because that was what the way required of them. He would be angry, but even he could not afford to offend the kindred. But in twenty years time, there would be a second war, and the kindred would rally to the aid of the Undead King, because it was meant to be. The other races of Thysandrika had been scared of the kindred from the beginning. In twenty years they would have their reason. I will take Zephyr and raise her as my own. No one questioned Lady Fury¡¯s authority. She was the greatest of them. The one who saw most clearly. Her reading of the way was flawless, and they all knew it. They took the newborn with them and left the corpse to be consumed by nature, as was their way. But the essence of the woman who had lived inside that corpse was still with them in a very tangible way. In the scheme of things, losing a body was as much a promotion as a loss¡­ a right of passage. The woman would never be mentioned again, and Zephyr would never hear her name spoken, but she would always feel her mother¡¯s presence when the way finally called her home. * Second of Approaching 1136 - Six years ago In spite of the prophecy surrounding her, and the expectations placed upon her, Zephyr was an ordinary girl. Like all kindred, she waited for her calling. For some, the calling came very young, for others, it came when they were much older. Most people thought Zephyr would be called sooner, but it didn¡¯t happen. And though no one ever said anything about it, the idea that she wasn¡¯t all she was supposed to be was an undercurrent in her life. The pressure of being a person of importance without actually being important was always in the background, as if she were waiting for something, and it had passed her by. As she grew older without being called, she began to wonder if perhaps the prophecy about her was wrong after all. But no one spoke about it, so she didn¡¯t either. If she were good at anything, she¡¯d have turned her attention to it, but as fate would have it, Zephyr was average in every way. She wasn¡¯t particularly smart. She could lay no claim to an exceptional athletic ability, being neither agile nor strong. She wasn¡¯t good at any craft. She was simply there, a mediocrity in a world of competency. It would have been fine if she hadn¡¯t been one of the chosen, but she was and could never escape the weight of expectation. She¡¯d begun to feel that pressure even before she¡¯d overheard a conversation between two of the council and Lady Fury. She had been outside their cottage. She was supposed to be meditating but, as often happened, she got distracted and never made it to her chosen spot. Instead, she became absorbed watching a beehive. So many individuals all working together, constantly communicating with each other, much like the kindred themselves. When she heard voices coming from the house, curiosity drove her to eavesdrop. This is normally impossible for kindred, as they were aware of each other and those inside would have noticed her had she already been called. But she hadn¡¯t and that connection was missing. She didn¡¯t know Lady Fury¡¯s guests by name, but she had some idea that they were important within the larger scheme of things. One of them was talking. ¡°¡­your ward, but it¡¯s been fourteen years now. The child is unexceptional. Are you certain she is the one?¡± Zephyr wondered why they were talking instead of using telepathy as they normally would. ¡°I am.¡± Lady Fury¡¯s voice was calm, confident, relaxed. It was entirely possible she had expected this visit. But Zephyr knew they were talking about her, and her heart sank as she listened. ¡°She hasn¡¯t been called yet, and many her age have. I would never challenge your prophecy, but¡­¡± ¡°And yet you are here to question the veracity of it. Hypocrisy is a bad look for you, Gabriella. Many of our number are called when they¡¯re older, and some of them have become powerful within the community. Should we hold her to a different standard than others?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what we¡¯re saying,¡± said another voice, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from conflict. ¡°We are just here to ask if you¡¯re certain, and since you said you are, that¡¯s good enough for us.¡± There was a long silence, and Zephyr could almost picture the other woman, Gabriella, holding back what she really wanted to say. Still, no kindred would openly challenge Lady Fury. She was right too often to risk it. ¡°Lady Fury, forgive our intrusion. I¡¯m certain you have more important things to do than to allay our fears. Of course we believe you. You haven¡¯t been wrong so often that we have reason to doubt.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m not wrong now. We must have patience, as the world won¡¯t turn more quickly if we don¡¯t. Thysandrika is changing, of that I have no doubt, but such change takes time. All the pieces must be in position before the child is called.¡± ¡°Is that a prophecy?¡± ¡°It is not. It is common sense. Sometimes I think common sense is a greater gift than prophecy. It seems fewer people possess it.¡± Zephyr almost gasped. Lady Fury was directly slighting two council members. But the women did not rise to the bait. Regardless, Zephyr had heard enough. The council was disappointed with her, and Lady Fury¡¯s reputation was suffering because of it. She felt horribly guilty, considering how much Lady Fury had done for her. She would have to try harder. Anything less would be a betrayal. The decision made, the beehive forgotten, she walked from the small cottage to the place she meditated every day, beneath the tree overlooking the pond. Perhaps, she thought, today would be the day, but of course, it wasn¡¯t. Whatever she was waiting for, it better happen soon. The weight of failure was beginning to crush her. * Twenty-eighth of Harvest 1139 - 3 years ago Zephyr thought of her calling a lot. The few outsiders who had knowledge of the calling likened it to being called to their own transition, but it was nothing like that. There was no outside power here, only inside power. A breaking of the internal barrier that kept you separated from the rest of the kindred. When that barrier faded, you could touch the way. She had been waiting to be called for as long as she could remember. It was all she waited for. She had been taught that meditation was vastly important to taking down internal walls, so you could hear the calling when it came. For this reason, she meditated often. As with everything else, she wasn¡¯t particularly good at it. She was always distracted by a nearby butterfly, or the wind ruffling her hair, or the sound of a fish jumping out of the water in the pond, but it didn¡¯t stop her from trying. She spent hours practicing her meditation with, she had to admit, extremely limited progress. Still, she had to keep trying. Her people depended on her, so she never gave up. Other children her age had experienced something of childhood, but Zephyr had not. She was the ward of Lady Fury, who everyone looked up to. Lady Fury schooled her personally in her own areas of expertise and brought in tutors to see to the areas she wasn¡¯t as strong in. Zephyr was taught by the best of the best, which only highlighted her inferiority. So many of the other children could have benefited from this sort of personal instruction, but it was always an uphill battle for her. She really did try her best. She was desperate to prove herself, but each passing year made it harder and harder to believe. Then, one day when she was seventeen, she went to the pond to meditate. Zephyr enjoyed meditating, she just wished she was better at it. She sat with her eyes closed, breathing deeply, releasing her breath slowly, focusing on it, forgetting the distractions. It had taken a long time, but she felt she was finally getting the hang of it. Today in particular, it seemed like nothing penetrated the veil, and she was alone in the cosmos. She had no sense of time, so she didn¡¯t have any idea of how long she had been sitting there when she heard the shout. Lady Fury was trying to warn her. She opened her eyes and right in front of her, only a few feet away, was a fraylian. Stolen story; please report. She had seen the large, carnivorous cats at a distance, but they tended to shy away from people, unless they were hungry. The beast, green with yellow stripes, stared at her, perhaps wondering why she didn¡¯t attempt to flee. Zephyr remained unmoving, unflinchingly meeting the beast¡¯s golden eyes. The fraylian was too close to run from, but fighting wasn¡¯t an option either. She wasn¡¯t much good at it and didn¡¯t have a weapon, thus she had no chance against the creature if it attacked. It was both too large and strong for her¡­but it just stood there, first looking at her, than looking around as if puzzled, sniffing the air uncertainly. Zephyr wasn¡¯t afraid. Perhaps the calm of her meditative state had followed her back to the real world. She continued her breathing and stared at the creature. After a few minutes, it turned and loped off across the grass, away from the kindred settlement. Lady Fury was on her in a moment. ¡°Are you all right? That was amazing! Congratulations.¡± Zephyr, still sitting, looked up at her, puzzled. ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything.¡± Lady Fury looked frustrated for only a moment before breaking into laughter. ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± said Zephyr, searching her mentor¡¯s face for some clue as to what she had found funny. ¡°You turned yourself invisible, girl. That¡¯s a very rare talent, even among kindred.¡± Zephyr laughed with her. ¡°I think I¡¯d know if I turned myself invisible.¡± ¡°I¡¯d think that too. We¡¯d both be wrong. You¡¯ve touched the ineffable, my girl. You should be able to hear us.¡± ¡°But I can¡¯t¡­¡± But even as she said it, Zephyr realized there was a humming in the background that almost blended in with the sound of the wind rustling through nearby bushes. Voices. There were voices. And then one voice emerged from the others, louder than the rest. Congratulations child. I knew you could do it. Lady Fury? Of course. It will be interesting to see where your talents lie, but I think we have a pretty good idea of where to start. Because invisibility is such a rare talent, we don¡¯t have a lot of information about what might accompany it, but we can make a few educated guesses. I don¡¯t think anyone would have guessed that you would be a stealth specialist. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard of one. Very few kindred have such specializations. Well, I assume there are. There could be a lot and I just can¡¯t see them. They both laughed and, just like that, the tension of the long wait faded. Zephyr had been called. Her childhood, such as it was, was at an end, and it was time to focus on her progression. They called it the long journey, and it lasted a lifetime. From where she sat now, it was an open road that could lead anywhere. The thought of it thrilled her. What happens now? Nothing yet, but it won¡¯t be long before the others start to notice your presence. There¡¯ll be a lot of congratulations and well wishes, and until that¡¯s done you won¡¯t be able to focus on anything. But tomorrow, you¡¯ll start the long journey. I strongly suspect yours will take you where no kindred has ever gone. * 1119-1122 - Three years ago to the present Zephyr learned more quickly than she ever had before. She found becoming invisible was easy for her, even though others assured her that it was one of the harder talents. People had to train for years to master the ability, and even those that did, didn¡¯t have her talent with it. Zephyr could become invisible at will and stay that way indefinitely, or at least, she had never reached her personal limit. Lady Fury theorized that her desire to be unseen due to her inferiority complex helped her, because she craved that anonymity so greatly. She had grown up burdened by unfair expectation, and when she couldn¡¯t meet those challenges, all she wanted to do was hide. So perhaps it was no coincidence that invisibility was her first skill. It was not her last. Over the years she learned how to move fast, to give herself crystal skin that would shield her from damage and cut anyone who tried to grapple with her. She learned how to move silently, and even consciously mask her scent, which she had apparently managed that first day when she had been stalked by the fraylian. Where she had never been good at anything before, she excelled at hiding and movement. No one alive could remember ever seeing her equal. Yet even this attention made her want to hide. What she really wanted was to be free of the expectations and obligations that had cast a shadow on Zephyr for her entire life. She wanted to be like others and not have to shoulder a burden that she felt would be difficult even for a fully trained adult. But the burden was hers to bear, and so shoulder it she would. She owed Lady Fury at least that much. She worked hard and honed her skills. She poured every bit of effort into learning, practicing every skill she could develop, even some that others thought she shouldn¡¯t have. Her divination skills were rudimentary, but her abilities to detect various specific things like magic were quite strong. The one thing she knew was that the skills she had were relatively useless on the island. Which led her to believe she would eventually have to leave, and that terrified her. For almost three years, she pushed herself to the limit, impressing people that had all but given up on her. They should have trusted the prophecy more. They should have believed Lady Fury. But they had not, not really, and now, she would show them. Lady Fury had taken her in and taught her, had been patient with her, and Zephyr would not let her down¡­even if she didn¡¯t know where her path would lead. To Zephyr, making Lady Fury proud was the most important thing. One day, Lady Fury telepathically called her into her study, and Zephyr, who was in her meditation spot, stood and walked toward the house. It was, strangely enough, a day almost exactly like the day she was born, and she knew it, because others had been there. Inside, she found Lady Fury sitting at her desk. ¡°Come Zephyr, sit with me.¡± ¡°Why are you talking?¡± ¡°Because it is too easy to eavesdrop on telepathic conversations.¡± ¡°Truly?¡± That didn¡¯t make sense to Zephyr. How could you overhear conversations that only occurred in someone¡¯s head? ¡°In any other place, this would not be true, but here on the island, with everyone having some sort of innate mental ability, it is. People won¡¯t be able to hear us unless they¡¯re close enough. A person adept at telepathy could hear us from the other end of the island. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that was possible.¡± ¡°There is much you don¡¯t know yet, but that is the journey, is it not? It never ends. Even I am learning every day. Some days, I think I know less than I did when I was younger.¡± ¡°Do you think that is true?¡± Lady Fury chuckled. ¡°No, of course not. But as I¡¯ve gotten older, I realize how much I don¡¯t know, which I didn¡¯t always realize when I was younger. The gap of what I know compared to what I don¡¯t know is always growing, even though I am always gaining knowledge. That is to say, knowledge comes into existence faster than I can acquire it, so the deficit of my ignorance increases always.¡± ¡°That sounds unpleasant.¡± ¡°And yet it is true for all of us. Do not be quick to be sure of yourself, because in this life you will be wrong as often as you are right.¡± ¡°But your prophecies always come true. Everyone says so.¡± ¡°My prophecies are always true when I interpret them correctly. In your case, however, I am relatively sure I have done so. You¡¯ve already started your journey, but now your journey must take you away from this place. Away from the island. Away from your people. You must seek out Prince Eric and Prince Dahr of Twyl, and you must travel with them and serve them as you would serve me.¡± ¡°But who are they? And why should I serve these outsiders?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. Prophecy doesn¡¯t say why, only what must be. And you must serve these princes, for what needs to happen to occur. It is vitally important. They might ask you to do things you wouldn¡¯t normally do, but you must be willing to do them.¡± ¡°Anything they ask?¡± ¡°Anything.¡± ¡°What if one of them wishes to have sex with me?¡± Lady Fury chuckled again. ¡°Anything really does mean anything, but I strongly suspect that won¡¯t be what they ask of you. The princes are embroiled in a cosmic happening that transcends physical needs and desires. I do not know what they are going to go through, but in these matters, there is always a price, and I fear one of them will have to pay that price.¡± Zephyr dropped her head. She did not want to leave Lady Fury, the only family she had ever known, but she was only here because of the prophecy and she would, of course, obey the calling. ¡°Lady Fury, how will I know how to find them?¡± ¡°You won¡¯t. Just follow the way, and it will take you to where you need to be. You¡¯ve been taught to see the signposts. You know how to read the psychic wind. You will find your way to them. Just let yourself go. Fate will guide you, as always.¡± ¡°Does everyone have Fate?¡± ¡°No. Only those so chosen. The special ones like you.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t feel special.¡± ¡°So many of the special ones do not. I don¡¯t feel special either, but I am honored above all other kindred for my prophecies. But now, it is time for you to eat and get some rest. Tomorrow morning, you will be gone.¡± ¡°Tomorrow? So soon.¡± ¡°It has been too long already. Get some food and get some rest. I will be there to see you off.¡± And just like that, Zephyr was dismissed. She walked from the room, head buzzing, hardly able to focus on anything, but suddenly, she felt the urge to go to her room. To be alone. She sat on her sleeping mat, cross-legged and tried to meditate. It was hard at first. She had never meditated here before, though she felt that if she were to travel away from here, she would have to learn to meditate wherever her path led her. She might as well start now. As the minutes passed, the breathing helped her relax, and she felt a presence. She opened her eyes, and a woman she had never seen before stood in front of her. Hello, Zephyr. She studied the woman, who looked familiar. The long brown hair, the brown eyes, the shape of her nose she looked like¡­like Zephyr herself. Mom? More or less. I¡¯m here with the kindred. I¡¯ve always been here. They say that, but I had always assumed it was a metaphor. In some ways it is. All that I was, all that I knew passed into the collective consciousness. This is the essence of who I was. Why have you waited so long to visit me? Because you hadn¡¯t asked for me, and now you have. I did? Your fear of leaving is holding you back. I¡¯m here to allay your fears. No matter where you go, I will be with you, as I have been for all your life. Zephyr felt a tear roll down her cheek. Her mother had been there, and she hadn¡¯t known. So much wasted time. And yet not, for she would be there now when Zephyr needed her most. You won¡¯t leave me again? I never left you in the first place. You were just unable to sense me. I am here now because you need me. Whenever you need me, I will be here. Oh, mom. The thought comforted her. Her mother would be there. And suddenly, Zephyr wasn¡¯t quite as scared of leaving. But where would she go? Well, the first step was getting off the island, which meant the ferry to the mainland. Then she would see what clues the way would provide her. There would be some indication of where she was to go, of that she was certain. And for the first time, she felt a tinge of excitement. Tomorrow she and her mother would make their way to the mainland, and she would start walking. Somewhere out there in the greater world were two princes that she was destined to serve. She wondered what they would be like. They, like her, had destiny. She hoped she¡¯d like them. It would be awful to serve a prince she didn¡¯t like, but she¡¯d do it if that was the way. As kindred, it was quite literally what she lived for. * Seventeenth of Learning 1142 - present day ¡°My name is Zephyr, and I am kindred. There are those who would say that we are not human, but they are wrong. We are simply humans that have rejected the gods. There is a lot the people of Thysandrika don¡¯t understand about us, and so they fear us. Ignorance often stokes the flames of fear. We believe that we can be our own gods, find our own talents by following a path we call the way. ¡°It is not easy to explain the way to outsiders. In some manner, the way is our god, but it is not sentient. It has no desires. It has no agenda. Yet it gives us direction and purpose. We choose to follow the way, for the way protects us, or rather, we protect ourselves by following it. The way places us where we need to be. I have followed the way since I have been called, not because I have to, but because when I do, I benefit. When I don¡¯t, I pay the price.¡± ¡°That sounds very much like a god to me,¡± said Chari. She still had her sword drawn, though at least now, instead of being pointed directly at Zephyr, it hung loosely at her side. Still, Zephyr knew that the wrong answers would escalate the princess¡¯s fears into something more. Only total honesty would serve here. Most people can sense when another is being completely open. ¡°Maybe. I know less about the gods than I should. Regardless, the way has led me from The Fellowship into a world I do not know much about. But I know everything every kindred knows, and so that information is always available to me. This makes me powerful. And that power makes others fear me. Fortunately my skill set protects me. ¡°I can become invisible at will, I can move quickly and silently, I can blur myself to make myself hard to hit, I can draw the attention of foes and then lose it just as easily. I can detect intent, class, level, magic, and danger. I can speak any language anyone of the other kindred knows, so I can converse with virtually anyone on Thysandrika. And even with all that, following the way is the most powerful of all my skills. ¡°The way has led me here, across a hostile landscape, through this dungeon, avoiding traps and creatures alike. It has led me to you, Princess Chari, and you, eventually, will lead me to Prince Eric and Prince Dahr. I know this with certainty, because the way has led me to you and this place at just the right time to help you defeat the pasdara. It would not have led me here if you could not help me fulfill my destiny.¡± ¡°I still don¡¯t understand,¡± said Chari. ¡°What are your intentions toward the princes?¡± ¡°I am here to help them in whatever way they need help. I will give my life to protect them, if that becomes necessary.¡± ¡°Why would a kindred want to protect them? Why do you care? How do you even know about them?¡± ¡°Our tasks are given to us by the council who rule the kindred. Lady Fury is my¡­ I don¡¯t think there is a word in your language. I am her ward, but also her student.¡± ¡°Like an apprentice?¡± ¡°Just so. That is as close as any description I have heard, though a master passes down their skills to an apprentice and in my case, that didn¡¯t happen. My skills are my own and have nothing to do with Lady Fury¡¯s skills. Her skills have to do with divination and prophecy.¡± ¡°Why is she called Lady Fury?¡± asked Kalutu. ¡°Our names are personal. I have never asked her, but I have never seen Lady Fury lose her temper.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense,¡± said Chari. ¡°My name is Zephyr, because a gentle breeze was blowing when I was born. My name does not mean that I am a breeze. Regardless, I have helped you and will continue to help if you will have me.¡± ¡°And if I won¡¯t have you?¡± ¡°Then I will follow you until you lead me to Prince Eric and Prince Dahr, and I will offer my services to them directly.¡± ¡°And if I decide that you will not follow us?¡± ¡°Then I will vanish and follow you without your knowledge, though I would prefer not to do that.¡± ¡°And if I were to kill you now, so you couldn¡¯t do that?¡± ¡°Then I would be dead. You will have thwarted the way, and what harm might befall the two princes will be on your head.¡± ¡°I only have your word on all of this.¡± ¡°That is true. But I did help you. You can not deny that.¡± Chari sighed. She stared into Zephyr¡¯s eyes as if there was some chance she could read what was written in them. For a long time, she didn¡¯t say anything. When she spoke, her voice was somehow both resolute and resigned at the same time. ¡°Fine. You can come with us¡­ but I¡¯ll be watching you.¡± ¡°I would expect no less from you, Princess Chari. You are Sheba¡¯s sword, after all.¡± ¡°And how do you know that?¡± ¡°I told you. I know everything that every kindred knows.¡± ¡°Are you saying there was a kindred in the throne room when Sheba said that to me?¡± ¡°Either that, or someone in the throne room gave the story to a kindred.¡± ¡°You people are scary.¡± ¡°We are misunderstood. You being afraid of us does not make us monsters.¡± ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± said Chari, ¡°but it doesn¡¯t make you not monsters either.¡± Chapter 16 - Divine Theater Just because we can¡¯t see patterns in what is in front of us, doesn¡¯t mean those patterns don¡¯t exist. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Eighteenth of Learning 1142 Her. I was. Does it bother you? My old master didn¡¯t care to find out my gender before naming me. I was new to being a familiar and didn¡¯t want to rock the boat, so I didn¡¯t say anything. Once some time had passed, I realized he didn¡¯t care much about me one way or another, and it never came up again. I had one before, but Bruce is fine. The old name was in the spider tongue and mostly consisted of clicks and hisses. You wouldn¡¯t be able to pronounce it. lycanthrope are both gone, and no one can find them.¡± Chapter 17 - Dungeon Runners I love stories about dungeons, or at least I imagine I would had I heard any. The idea of a lost underground labyrinth filled with monsters and treasure is exciting. Being in an actual dungeon, however, is equal parts boredom and terror, with a sprinkle of excitement should you overcome the odds. Perhaps this would be more fun if I was more powerful and not responsible for a host of familiars. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Eighteenth of Learning 1142 Eighteenth of Learning 1142 - October 5, 2023 The Undead Wars.¡± I¡¯ll go, said Bruce. I¡¯ll scout the situation and return. Chapter 18 - King Leonids Burden Fourteenth of Striving 1106 - 36 Years Ago The library in the castle in Melar was enormous. Huge wooden bookcases lined every wall, spanning the distance to the high ceiling. Three large circular dark wood tables, polished to a shine, were equally spaced throughout the room, each surrounded by four matching chairs. Between the bookcases, magical lamps illuminated the entire space. There would be no fire in this room to threaten the wealth of tomes, books and scrolls. Prince Leonid stood over a book-laden table, casting his eyes over the entire collection, searching for the one volume that might contain the solution he sought. The chair behind him remained unused. There had to be an answer. There had to be¡ªor so he had assumed when he¡¯d begun his research. Unfortunately, there was little information to be found. The issue, of course, was why he couldn¡¯t cast a spell, even when he understood it so perfectly. The term used most often was competence. Some people were spell competent. It was very rare. It meant they could learn and cast any spell in existence. There were others who were competent only with certain types, such as fire, ice or divination spells. This was somewhat more common. There was always a chance that a mage couldn¡¯t learn a specific spell, and rarely a specific type of spell. There were many theories as to why that was, but no one seemed to know. It was all guesswork. Even the greatest magical scholars, a group of people Leonid now found himself a part of, didn¡¯t seem to have a clue. He didn¡¯t understand why more research hadn¡¯t been done in this area. One day, he¡¯d have to rectify that. Spell incompetence, the inability to cast any spells at all, occurred with the same frequency as spell competence. Prince Leonid was spell incompetent and hated it, hence is preoccupation with the topic. Only a book written by a mage who called himself Lost gave Leonid any hope at all. Lost had been declared spell incompetent, first by his mentor, then by the magic guild. Like Leonid, Lost turned his attention to studying magic, even though he couldn¡¯t use it at all. What he found was that though he was spell incompetent with every spell he attempted, there was one school of magic he¡¯d never tried, and that turned out to be the only magic he could cast. It was a small hope, but that was better than no hope at all. Leonid created a list of every type of spell, and crossed off the ones he had worked with extensively. All the elements were out. Divination, alteration, time¡­he¡¯d tried a number of spells of those types. Same with animals and plants. But there were a few less common spell types that people didn¡¯t discuss. Some older ones were no longer listed, and those were the ones that interested him. Spirit magic was the one he¡¯d tried the least. There weren¡¯t many books with spirit magic spells listed, but he knew a lot about the theory. All he really needed was the segunda syllable that would attune the magic he was attempting to use to the spirit plane. He knew the words and gestures. He knew the format for making a spell. A simple one was what he needed. Something easy. Paper and ink were always nearby, and he fetched them now. He started working out a spell formula for what he was trying to do. He had never summoned a spirit before but felt it shouldn¡¯t be that hard to compose a spell. The only real issue he had was tracking down the magical signature of something that had once been alive. There were a few books that listed magical signatures. Not many, but enough. It took him a while to find one, but his father¡¯s library had always been extensive. He suspected his father regretted tethering to Se Karn instead of Mitra. This library had been his penance. Sometimes Leonid wondered how Se Karn felt about the situation. Why would a god want someone who wanted to worship another? He had no idea. He forced his mind back to the topic at hand. He looked up and took a moment to stretch. He¡¯d have to take a break soon. He¡¯d been at this for hours, and fatigue was beginning to overtake him. Just a bit more and he¡¯d be able to rest. First he drew a magical circle on the floor of the library. He didn¡¯t worry about being discovered. In all the time he¡¯d spent here, no one had ever entered. As far as he knew, he was the only one who used this place. He inscribed the entity¡¯s name inside the circle, carefully copying it from the book he had originally found it in. He finished by drawing the necessary ritual symbols to keep it contained. Now all that was left was the summoning. He copied the magical signature down onto the page with the rest of his spell, checked over how it meshed with the rest of the formula. It looked like a good spell. He couldn¡¯t see any reason why it wouldn¡¯t work. All he needed to do was try to cast it. As he mentally prepared, he realized that there were people out there who despised spirit magic. It was considered a gray art rather than a dark one but still had a bad reputation. Gray magic wasn¡¯t illegal anywhere, however, and Leonid was getting desperate. He studied the spell until he had it completely memorized, then cleared his mind and began casting. It felt like every other attempt he¡¯d ever made. There was no power there, just the words and gestures. He had to restart the spell twice, because of his growing frustration. He had to force himself to perform the spell perfectly. It was the only way he could know. Finally, on his third try, he managed to get it right. The casting was perfect. It was never going to get better than that. Of course, there were always individual spells specific mages couldn¡¯t cast, and not being able to cast this one didn¡¯t prove that he couldn¡¯t cast any spirit spell. But he knew, deep inside, that it wasn¡¯t going to work. That the power to cast was simply not in him. Leonid sighed and finally sat on the seat he¡¯d vacated so long ago. He dropped his head. Another failure. He had no idea how long he could go on like this. Lost in the pain of failure, he failed to notice the faint hum at first. This was his last chance. If this didn¡¯t work, it would confirm him as spell incompetent. Why was he like this? Why be able to appreciate the beauty of magic in such vivid detail, if you can¡¯t ever cast a spell? What had he ever done to deserve such punishment? The humming had grown louder now, and he looked up. There, in his circle, the air shimmered as if something were forming inside it. Something large from the look of it. Much larger than he had expected it to be. Had something gone wrong with the spell? Wrong with the spell? It had worked. Wrong or right, he had cast a spell that had some effect. He held his breath as the magic coalesced within the circle, first a cloud of magical mist, white tinged with purple, then growing more vivid, the color deepening, the white fading. He stared in triumph, in awe, in trepidation as the cloud grew even bigger, drawing more and more magic into the spell matrix. It took nearly five more minutes for it to form. He wondered later if he¡¯d held his breath for all of it. For there, in the middle of his magical circle, stood a creature. It was half again as tall as he was, purple, like the mist that had formed it. Its huge head seemed to rest directly on its shoulders as if no neck could ever support something so large and unwieldy. Though its mouth was closed, two tusks jutted up from inside its lower lip. Its bloodshot eyes had no pupils, and its nose looked as if it had been mashed flat against that huge head. It had the body of a great ape, covered in purple hair, barrel chested, leaning forward as if the weight of its head wouldn¡¯t let it walk completely erect. When it spoke, its voice was a rasp of malice that made the air around him vibrate. ¡°Summoned, I¡¯ve been, but by you? What are you? Eighth level?¡± ¡°Level 6.¡± ¡°Six! Impossible. You think a sixth level summoner can hold me?¡± ¡°I know I can. Level doesn¡¯t matter. Only the quality of the circle, and I was careful.¡± ¡°Careful? Full of yourself, you are. Quick will be your death.¡± Leonid stood proudly. He knew magic. He knew that the creature could not touch him, though it would try to trick him. He wasn¡¯t going to fall for it. Nor would he back down from a creature he was meant to control. He had to let it know that he was in charge. And he was in charge. Right up until the creature, without even a hint of struggle, stepped from the circle and moved toward him. He felt his heart pounding. He wanted to scream. He knew the spells. He understood the magic. That shouldn¡¯t have been possible. But he was wrong. Somewhere, he had made a mistake. It was all the thoughts he had time for before the creature was on him. A real mage would have had attack spells to strike out at it or defense spells to shield himself. Leonid, by contrast, hadn¡¯t even thought to bring a weapon, which was fine, because he wasn¡¯t any good with them anyway. All his time was spent studying magic¡ªfor all the good it did him. The creature backhanded him with a massive fist, sending him flying. The heavy wooden bookcase that broke his fall, also broke his back¡ªat least it felt like that. He struck the floor hard, face first. A moment later that same bookcase toppled over, landing on top of him, compounding the damage that had already been done. And that damage wasn¡¯t just physical. He felt broken, humiliated, ready to die. He had finally succeeded in casting a spell, and he¡¯d blown it. It was over. He was ready for Se Karn to take him. The experiment that had been his life had ended in failure. He only wished he knew what he¡¯d done wrong. He lay prone, injured, helpless under the weight of the thick wooden structure, and then he heard the creature approaching. It would be nothing for a thing that large to lift the bookcase up and finish him off. He felt pressure as the creature stepped on top of it, but it only lasted a moment. Then the pressure was gone, and he heard it move away. It was loose. In the castle. His family. He could barely move. He couldn¡¯t think. Someone would take it out. The only question was how many would die before that happened. All his fault. As he lay there, letting the pain of his injuries wash over him, he turned his mind to trying to figure out what had gone wrong. He had worked out the spell meticulously. He had drawn the circle perfectly. Everything had been correct, he was sure of it. Unless¡­ An idea formed in his mind, and he couldn¡¯t get rid of it. Perhaps he had made a mistake after all, but he wasn¡¯t the one paying. It was the unsuspecting victims in the castle above, going about their business, not knowing that a demon was on the loose, hunting. All his fault. He couldn¡¯t lift the bookcase, but he could drag himself. Pushing the books out of the way with his hands, he moved with a swimming motion, pushing forward with his legs, clearing away the books with his arms, inching his way toward freedom. His body ached all over. He was having trouble breathing, but he forced himself to continue. He had to free himself to check his work. Please, Iorana, don¡¯t let this be my fault. Inch by inch he worked himself forward. How long had it taken so far? He had no idea. Was that screams he heard in the distance? No. Just his imagination. But whether he heard them or not, it was likely there had been some screams. Move, dammit. Faster. But his body couldn¡¯t go any faster. It took him precious long minutes to finally free himself enough to pull his legs from under the bookcase. As soon as he was free, he tried to stand, but his legs collapsed from under him. He crawled to the chair and used it to pull himself up. He managed to maneuver his body until he was sitting. Another minute. Sweat was pouring into his eyes, and he cleared it with his arm, then cast his gaze around the table, looking for the book with the name. Fortunately, it was close, and he didn¡¯t have to reach for it. He opened the book, looked at the name and it looked right. Then he reached for the place where he¡¯d scribed his spell. When he compared the two names, his breath caught in his throat. They were ever so slightly different. The name drawn inside the circle was not the name of the creature he had summoned. It explained why the circle had not held it. He needed to start again despite his injuries. Still, he had done it once. If he were careful, if he could get it right. Leonid couldn¡¯t prevent the damage the creature was doing, would do in the minutes that followed, but he could try to put an end to it. If only he had access to a healing potion, but the closest one was too far and would take too long to reach. Furthermore, it would put him out there with a demon on the loose. So he forced himself to quiet his mind and recall the spell. Every particular. Every syllable. Every gesture. He wouldn¡¯t be able to use the old circle, it had the wrong name in it. He¡¯d have to draw a whole new one. That would take time and would be devilishly difficult if he couldn¡¯t stand. Think! There had to be a way. Okay, what if he simply inscribed the correct name in the circle, in a different position than the first name. There was no reason a circle couldn¡¯t be made to contain two summons, though he had never read anything confirming that. Still, it might work. The decision made, he took the charcoal he had used to draw the circle, which was sitting on the table in front of him. He also took the scroll on which he had written the spell formula that contained the wrong name. He wondered how likely it was that he¡¯d actually summoned a different demon by chance, or had the name been close enough to attract the demon¡¯s attention, and it had used that power opportunistically to invade Thysandrika. He would probably never know. Then he half lowered, half dropped to the floor. He winced as he struck but the anticipation was worse than the pain that eventuated. So far, so good. Slowly, he inched his way closer to the circle. He had to be very careful not to smear it. In theory, reusing a circle was possible. Some summoners had permanent circles that they used over and over again, after all. And this only needed to work one more time. It took him longer than he would have liked to make it to the summoning circle and then more time still to copy the name inside of it. He checked it carefully this time, forcing himself to slow down and focus to the exclusion of all else. He also checked to make sure he hadn¡¯t smudged the circle. Then he crawled to the wall and sat himself against it. His entire body was on fire, but he had a job to do. He had a spell to cast. It finally hit him at that moment. He had cast a spell. He could do it. Admittedly, it wasn¡¯t the area of magic he was most interested in, but it was magic. He started to think about what else he might be able to do, before chastising himself, and making himself focus on the matter at hand. He had been standing the first time he¡¯d cast the spell, but it shouldn¡¯t matter. He could do the hand gestures sitting down, as they were relatively basic. He just had to be careful to use the name he¡¯d inscribed, instead of the name in the book. He took his time, intoning each word carefully. The only change he made was casting the spell at one level higher, so that if it needed to, it could override the initial spell. He wasn¡¯t sure it was necessary, but why take a chance? It was an easy enough adjustment to make. It didn¡¯t even require him to rewrite the spell. The casting of protu, the first syllable, was the first thing a young mage learned, and he had had much practice after all the time he¡¯d spent attempting to cast spells. He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath and started casting. He ignored the blood on his hands as he made the gesture, the pain in his chest and legs, the fear that had suddenly taken hold of him as he began to wonder if he was too late. No, focus. Concentrate! Slowly, the spell began to form. This time, he could feel the power and knew he had succeeded, possibly because he knew he could, possibly because he was casting it at a higher power level. The purple mist formed as it had before, though perhaps it was a bit denser. He watched it go through the processes of growing, forming, and suddenly, the demon appeared inside the circle. ¡°What!¡± it roared. ¡°We meet again, it seems.¡± This time his voice wasn¡¯t full of confidence. He was exhausted, humbled. The demon glared at him. Leonid was unhappy to see the blood dripping from its mouth and onto its fur. ¡°I¡¯ve escaped this circle once already¡­or did you forget.¡± ¡°I think you¡¯ll find I¡¯ve improved it since your last attempt.¡± The demon sneered and tried to push a clawed hand through the magical barrier. Fire burned where the two touched, and it jerked its hand back. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t even know this spell at your level.¡± A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°There are a lot of things I shouldn¡¯t know but do. Want to see my favorite?¡± The demon narrowed his eyes suspiciously. ¡°We can make a deal, human.¡± ¡°No. We can¡¯t.¡± Leonid began casting a spell he¡¯d never attempted, but it was a spirit spell, and closely related to the one he¡¯d already cast. The demon howled, cursed, threatened, tried to distract him, but Leonid¡¯s mind remained focused. ¡°One day, human, I will end you. You haven¡¯t seen the last of me.¡± Leonid would have liked to answer, but he was busy. He was casting a spell. He made sure to use the incorrect name he had penned on his spell, rather than the one from the book but just as it was about to end, the creature threw his entire body against the barrier surrounding it. Leonid had no idea what it thought it would accomplish, as he had made certain the barrier would hold, and it did. All it accomplished was now, before the demon¡¯s banishment took effect, it had managed to set itself on fire. Then, screaming in pain or frustration, it slowly faded from existence and returned to where it came from. Leonid had cast three spells, and yet he did not feel victorious. He could barely move. He was sure at least some of his bones had been broken. All he could do was lean against the wall and hope someone would come to find him soon. Almost as he thought it, the door opened and his brother Alexi entered. He looked around and as soon as he saw Leonid, ran to him. ¡°Are you all right?¡± Leonid had only enough time to shake his head before finally surrendering consciousness. * When Prince Leonid next opened his eyes, he was lying in his own bed in his own rooms. At first he thought he was alone, but then he noticed his brother Alexi sitting on a chair, reading a book. He opened his mouth to ask what had happened, but ended up coughing instead. Alexi was on his feet immediately. ¡°Take it easy. It¡¯s okay.¡± Leonid spent several minutes coughing before he was finally able to talk. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°You passed out. You were badly injured, but we managed to get a healing potion into you, and you should be fine if you take it easy for a few days. I¡­ummm¡­cleaned up the library after getting you help. No one has to know.¡± ¡°Has to know what?¡± ¡°The demon was yours, was it not?¡± Alexi stared at him, and everything came rushing back to him. ¡°It was. I made a mistake in the spell and lost control of it. I¡¯m sorry. Did anyone get hurt?¡± Alexi¡¯s mouth tightened into a straight line, and his face grew ashen. ¡°There were a lot of deaths. Are you sure you want to hear about this now?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°We lost seventeen people, and many others were injured. Leo¡­¡± ¡°Tell me.¡± ¡°It got mom.¡± Silence. There was nothing he could say to that. There was no way he could apologize. He had cast his first spell, and it had cost his mother her life. ¡°It was an accident, I swear it.¡± ¡°No one knows that it was yours, Leo. You¡¯re safe.¡± Alexi placed a hand on his arm. ¡°I won¡¯t tell anyone, I swear it.¡± ¡°And father?¡± ¡°He thinks it was an attack but doesn¡¯t know who¡¯s behind it.¡± ¡°I have to tell him the truth, Lex.¡± ¡°The hell you do. Do you know what he¡¯ll do to you if he finds out? He might even have you executed. It¡¯s not worth the risk.¡± ¡°But it¡¯s my fault!¡± ¡°You said it was an accident. Anyway, I¡¯ve removed all the evidence.¡± ¡°Why? Why would you do that for me?¡± Alexi sighed. ¡°Because you¡¯re my big brother.¡± Leonid shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s more than that. Out with it.¡± ¡°If something happens to you, I¡¯d be the heir, and I don¡¯t want to be.¡± ¡°Why not? You¡¯d make a great king.¡± ¡°No, Leo, I wouldn¡¯t. If you thought about it, you¡¯d know that. I¡¯m not like you and dad. I can¡¯t handle that kind of pressure. I never could. So I¡¯ll protect your secret, because you¡¯re going to be the next king.¡± ¡°And how do you expect me to live with the guilt of being responsible for my own mother¡¯s death?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have an answer for you. Perhaps you should speak to a priest of Iorana. If it¡¯s answers you want, the temple is your best bet.¡± Leonid nodded. ¡°Thank you. Who else did we lose?¡± ¡°Some of the servants, a few guards, Lord Annick and his son both.¡± ¡°Which one?¡± ¡°The tall skinny one. Can never remember his name.¡± ¡°Leek. I¡¯m really sorry about that, I liked him. We weren¡¯t exactly friends, but he was a good man.¡± ¡°He tried to slow the demon to buy time for the others in his family to get away. It was a good death, Leo.¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s something. But it never would have happened if I had been more careful. Lex¡­I don¡¯t know how to live with what I¡¯ve done.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll find a way, Leo. You always find a way. You even found a way to cast a spell.¡± ¡°Yeah, and look at what that got me.¡± Alexi didn¡¯t have an answer, so he sat on the edge of the bed and didn¡¯t say anything. Leonid hurt, not physically but emotionally. He was in too much pain to cry. He had no idea that such a thing was possible. He was numb. Empty. There was nothing left. His mother. Seventeen people¡ªbecause he hadn¡¯t rested before casting his first spell. How would he ever get over this? It would have been better if he¡¯d remained spell incompetent. So many people dead because of his ego. His failure. He did cry then, silently, and all the while Alexi sat with him, not saying a word. Twenty-eighth of Striving 1106 - 36 years ago King Ignatious and Queen Kaer had ruled the Kingdom of Melar for the past thirty years, and during that time, the kingdom had neither prospered nor suffered. History would remember the couple as a safe hand, maintaining what they had without taking risks. They did nothing to antagonize Andara, for example. They made no trade deal with Lorelei, due to their alliance with Xarinos, and they neither attacked any other kingdom nor had to defend themselves against attack. A cynic might suggest that they didn¡¯t have to defend themselves because they had little worth stealing, but the truth was, the king and queen were simply unambitious dull people who managed to accomplish little during their rather long rein. Nothing particularly exciting had happened in Melar, until a demon appeared in the palace and killed a number of people, including the queen. Much changed after this unprovoked attack. King Ignatious, bent on revenge, ordered his people to spare no expense to locate the party behind the attack. The funny thing was, the king hadn¡¯t even liked his wife. They had married to produce heirs and since that time, both rulers had engaged in a string of affairs that, despite their discretion, everyone knew about, but no one mentioned. Leonid thought about them, his parents. They had never understood him. He never really liked his mother, and she had never liked him. That didn¡¯t mean he wanted to see her dead. He simply had no strong feelings for her, one way or another. He felt much the same about his father. He was there, he had sired him, and he¡¯d left the palace staff to raise him. It was a loveless household all around. Only he and Alexi had any sort of emotional relationship. And somehow, that was enough. So Leonid dutifully mourned his mother¡¯s death, but even more, he mourned the fact that the very first time he¡¯d cast a spell, he¡¯d botched it, and a lot of good people had died. A lot of good people and his mother. He bit back the thought as soon as he had it. Why was he angry at her? She hadn¡¯t done anything. But even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. Her death had inconvenienced him emotionally. He hadn¡¯t picked up a book, studied a spell, or even prayed to Iorana since that day. He had loved magic so much, he¡¯d forgotten that it was potentially dangerous. After all, even highly trained mages could, under certain conditions, have a spell backfire on them. And Leonid, for all his knowledge, was not a highly trained mage. He was a pretender. He had cast, by his count, three spells. One to summon a demon, which he botched, one to summon it again, and one to banish it. His dream had come true. He had finally cast a spell, and it would be the last spell he would ever have the honor of casting. He had been a fool. Spells weren¡¯t for people like him. They were for the special people. Adventurers, mages, people who lived lives of adventure and daring. Those are the people who deserved that talent. But he was nothing. Not worthy of being named a mage. He had ruined everything. And that was the crux of his anger. Had he killed a few servants, that would bother him, but he could have lived with it. But he hadn¡¯t only killed servants. He¡¯d killed nobles. He¡¯d killed guards. And he¡¯d killed his mother. He couldn¡¯t return from that, ever. He knew logically, he had no reason to be angry at her for that, but he couldn¡¯t help it. He was angry. He had finally cast a spell, and she had ruined everything. It wasn¡¯t logical. It wasn¡¯t right or fair to her that he should feel this way, but it was how he felt. Leonid did everything a prince in mourning was supposed to do. He had attended his mother¡¯s funeral, he had consoled his father, even though he knew it was unnecessary, and he took on extra responsibilities to ease the king¡¯s burden. He knew he was doing it out of guilt. No one else was going to punish him, so he was punishing himself. Perhaps that¡¯s also why he had walked away from magic. Nothing hurt him more than that. But he knew deep inside that he did not deserve Iorana¡¯s grace. He was in his chambers, when a page knocked on his door to inform him that the High Priest of Iorana awaited his pleasure. The seneschal had led the priest to one of the more private, elegant sitting rooms, as befit his station. Dreading this meeting, but knowing there was no way to avoid it, Prince Leonid made his way downstairs to greet the priest. He might as well get this over with. High Priest Dorean sat in a chair, sipping a glass of wine. He rose and bowed low when Leonid entered, but the prince had no patience for formality today. He noted that the high priest was as thin as ever, practically a wraith beneath his heavy robes of office. Those robes were so large on him, he looked like a child playing dress up with his father¡¯s clothes. The high priest was a bald, clean-shaven man, with sunken cheeks, perfectly aligned yellow teeth, and a nose that was almost a perfect equilateral triangle, down to the pointed tip. Leonid had never seen a nose like that and had to fight hard not to stare at it. ¡°High Priest Dorean, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t guess?¡± The high priest¡¯s accent was Andaran. He had spent a lot of time there, and for some reason, Iorana thought stationing him in Melar was a good idea. Leonid had no idea why that was, but he assumed she must have had a reason. ¡°I can guess.¡± ¡°Iorana knows what you¡¯ve done. I know what you¡¯ve done. It is not your fault.¡± This was precisely the wrong thing to say, considering that Leonid had been thinking the exact opposite since it had happened two weeks earlier. ¡°Of course it¡¯s my fault! I botched the spell. There is no one else to blame.¡± ¡°My prince, sometimes there is no one to blame. You were exhausted and made a mistake, true. But everyone makes mistakes. In this particular case, it was costly. And the goddess understands that you want to foot the bill.¡± Leonid didn¡¯t reply. He had nothing to say to that. ¡°Yet, there is a flaw in your reasoning. In order for you to make amends, you must have the power to do so. You can¡¯t possibly do that without magic. There¡¯s nothing else that you¡¯re good at.¡± ¡°If I were good at magic, I wouldn¡¯t have screwed up.¡± ¡°Do you think Arch Mages don¡¯t make mistakes? Do you think the gods don¡¯t make mistakes? Are you the equal of a god?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not even the equal of a man.¡± The high priest shook his head then grew angry. ¡°You have a future as a summoner, and you need to accept that future. There are so few summoners left. Your contribution to this field is extremely important. If you want to pay for what you have done, apply yourself to the work and do better.¡± ¡°High Priest Dorean. You know what would have happened if that thing had killed me, do you not?¡± ¡°Of course, I know.¡± ¡°It would have remained here, on the physical plane, gaining power until something could defeat it. The death toll would have been much higher.¡± ¡°But you survived, figured out what was wrong and banished it. Some would say those actions were heroic. There you were, in pain, injured, exhausted after days of research, but you didn¡¯t give up. You fought through the pain, and the fatigue, and the fear, especially the fear. You figured out what you¡¯d done wrong, you figured out a way to fix it and you saved other people who might have died from a terrible fate. Doesn¡¯t that deserve some consideration?¡± ¡°No. Because others paid the price. Not me.¡± ¡°Hmmm, you feel like you need to pay. And the goddess wishes you to become a summoner. I think we might be able to come to an arrangement.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s take a walk.¡± ¡°To?¡± ¡°The temples.¡± ¡°You won¡¯t change my mind.¡± ¡°I know. I¡¯m a mere servant. I won¡¯t be changing anything. But there are powers greater than me in the world. You may think that your will is a match for theirs, but that¡¯s merely the hubris of youth.¡± ¡°And what of free will?¡± ¡°The gods won¡¯t make you change your mind. They¡¯ll offer you something so tempting, so unexpected, so far beyond your wildest imagination that you will want to bend to their will.¡± ¡°Can you offer me absolution?¡± ¡°As I¡¯ve said, I can¡¯t offer you anything. Let¡¯s see what the gods can come up with.¡± Prince Leonid searched the priest¡¯s eyes, but there was nothing to see there, since he wouldn¡¯t be the one at the bargaining table. * As in most cities, the temple district was located near the palace, so the walk was short. However, instead of heading toward Iorana¡¯s temple, the high priest turned right. ¡°Where are we going?¡± asked Leonid. ¡°We¡¯re going to visit Sarith.¡± ¡°Sarith.¡± Leonid¡¯s feet stopped of their own volition. He¡¯d passed the black temple many times, but like most people, he kept his distance. The curiosity, of course, had always been there, but the fear accompanied it. ¡°Come,¡± said the priest, who had also stopped. ¡°We don¡¯t want to keep the goddess waiting.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not meeting Sarith herself, are we?¡± ¡°Correct. We¡¯re not meeting Sarith. You are.¡± Leonid still hadn¡¯t started up again. ¡°You expect me to meet the goddess of war.¡± ¡°No. She does. I would suggest you don¡¯t disappoint her.¡± Well, that put it into perspective. Leonid started walking again, but he had stopped thinking. No matter what, there was no way he could possibly figure out what the goddess wanted with him, so there was no point wasting time on it. As he walked, he tried to control his breathing. He¡¯d never met a god before and, though it wasn¡¯t his god, it was an honor. He had to remember that. He couldn¡¯t imagine would would become of him if he offended Sarith in her own domain. As the temple drew closer, he could feel the nerves beginning to build. The look of the place terrified him, with its sharp angled towers and the ever-present shadows that seemed to have a life of their own. His body didn¡¯t want to continue, but he forced it forward. The priest, on the other hand, didn¡¯t seem to have a problem, strolling casually, as if this was a place he¡¯d visited every day. ¡°Been here before?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Then why aren¡¯t you more scared?¡± ¡°Because I have faith in Iorana. A quality you shared not very long ago.¡± Leonid thought about it, and it was true. He lost his faith the day he¡¯d killed his mother. But he didn¡¯t blame the goddess. He just didn¡¯t feel worthy of her anymore. ¡°Also,¡± said the high priest, ¡°I¡¯m not entering. This is your journey. I¡¯m just an escort. Whatever will be discussed beyond those walls is not meant for my ears.¡± ¡°You want me to go in there alone?¡± ¡°You defeated and banished a demon. Surely you have nothing to fear in a temple.¡± Leonid regarded him skeptically. ¡°Tell me the truth. Will I be safe inside?¡± The high priest chuckled. ¡°As safe as anyone, I would imagine. Probably safer. I think it unlikely that Sarith would directly harm the servant of another god.¡± ¡°And indirectly?¡± The high priest shrugged, bowed and walked back the way they had come, leaving Leonid alone in front of the temple. He could leave now, return to the palace, and carry on with his life, but something drew him onward. Not curiosity, it was more than that. It was the same emotion that had driven him so hard in his study of magic¡ªthe desire to know everything. He had thought it lost forever, but here it was again, driving him forward. The same thing that had pushed him into attempting to create a spirit spell without any training in spirit magic. He walked up to the large, black double doors and pushed one open. Like the outside, the inside of the temple was solid black. Black marble floors, black walls, a black vaulted ceiling and black wall sconces in which burned torches with black flame that somehow shed light. Trying to figure out how, hurt his mind. Then he noticed something else. He was the only person in sight. It wasn¡¯t like any other temple he¡¯d been in. There was no entrance foyer. No common area with seating. There was only a long corridor with doors on either side. He started forward down the corridor and as he drew closer, a door swung open of its own accord. ¡°Not too creepy.¡± Yet he continued forward. He had to know what was happening. Beyond the door was a small room with a single table and a chair on either side. The chair close to him was empty, but an impossibly beautiful woman sat on the other, dressed in a black dress that did very little to hide the lush body beneath it. Her hair was black and fell in loose locks around her shoulders. Her eyes were black as well, completely black, with no hint of white anywhere in them. By contrast her skin was fair, and perfect. Her full lips were vivid red and the smile on her face was predatory. ¡°Prince Leonid, at last, a pleasure.¡± Her voice was silk and steel at the same time. Leonid studied the goddess and liked what he saw. Admittedly, he couldn¡¯t imagine any man not liking it. He wondered if she had chosen that form just for this meeting, but immediately rejected the idea as preposterous. A goddess wouldn¡¯t be trying to impress him. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to address you,¡± he said. ¡°My name is Sarith. Feel free to use it.¡± He licked his lips. His throat seemed impossibly dry. Her physical beauty aside, the power he felt emanating from her made him feel tiny. ¡°You have a problem,¡± she continued. ¡°Iorana sees no value in a mage who refuses to study magic, or to use it. She has little interest in you at the moment. I, however, have some interest. So Iorana and I have come to terms.¡± ¡°Terms?¡± ¡°Yes. She¡¯s willing to trade you for one of mine.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know that was possible.¡± ¡°The gods make deals like this sometimes, probably more often than you think. There is no reason to talk about it publicly, so we don¡¯t. But the truth is, I can use you.¡± ¡°Do I have a say in this matter?¡± ¡°Of course. We can¡¯t make the deal without your consent and the consent of the other. But if you¡¯re truly done with magic, why stay? I can offer you something Iorana can not.¡± ¡°Oh? And that is?¡± ¡°Penance.¡± He stared at her. ¡°What, exactly, are you offering?¡± ¡°A chance to experience power like no one has experienced in hundreds of years. You will be unique in this world. But no gift without a price. No one will know you have this power. It will be a secret you¡¯ll take to the grave, an event that may come sooner than you expect, for this transition is not without its dangers. A great weight will hover over your head. A weight that can drop at any moment. ¡°You would no longer serve Iorana. You would serve me. A secret you must keep from even the high priest. But you will be protected. I will make sure that a Sarithan assassin is assigned to you at all times, to make certain you live. And when the moment comes where you will do Thysandrika the most good, that assassin will claim your life. Your death will offset the evil you have accidentally done. You will die a great hero, and everyone will know it, as long as you keep your secret until then.¡± ¡°What if the other says he doesn¡¯t want to serve Iorana?¡± ¡°I suspect there is little chance of that. When he learns I have no interest in his service, he¡¯ll take any offer he receives. I¡¯m told I can be a harsh mistress.¡± Of that, Leonid had no doubt. ¡°How long do I have to decide?¡± ¡°Are you really going to sit there and pretend you haven¡¯t decided already?¡± ¡°Talking to gods is frustrating,¡± grumbled Leonid. Sarith burst out laughing, and Leonid could not help but laugh with her. It was infectious. He laughed until his lungs hurt, releasing the tension he¡¯d spent two weeks building. When he finally caught his breath, he spoke. ¡°It seems I have little choice.¡± ¡°There are always choices. But I trust you will make the wise decision.¡± ¡°I want to pay for my crime. Iorana will not give that to me, and I¡¯m too weak a man to arrange it myself, so if you can offer me that, and make it mean something, I suppose this is the only deal in town.¡± ¡°Then accept me as your goddess.¡± ¡°Yes, my goddess. I accept you.¡± Sarith¡¯s voice was suddenly inside his mind. You are no longer a servant of Iorana. You have lost the following skills; fluent aldevarian, ancient aldevarian, speed reading, quick research, quick write, memorize, concentrate. You have gained a new yet ancient class, Dark Summoner. You have attained Level 1. You have gained the following skills; Summon lesser spirit, create ritual circle, create light. In the years to come, as you level, you will gain more and more powerful skills, but remember, should anyone I have not approved learn of this, you will forfeit your ability to use all your skills. Is that clear? ¡°Yes, my goddess.¡± Then rejoice. Leave this place and never return. You will continue to make your trips to Iorana¡¯s Temple as always. Only the goddess of magic knows of your change. Everyone else will believe you still worship her. ¡°I¡¯m surprised she agreed to this.¡± She suggested it. She knows how important you will become. He couldn¡¯t help but puff his chest out with pride. Sarith laughed. I can¡¯t even begin to imagine how you¡¯ll suffer knowing that everyone thinks you¡¯re powerless. Chapter 19 - Doing the Work of the Gods ¡°I am meant to understand that I¡¯m doing the work of the gods. If the gods are so powerful, I¡¯m not sure why they need my help.¡± The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Eighteenth of Learning 1142 I understand you just fine. Zephyr? Yes. How can you talk to me? It¡¯s an ability called telepathy. It¡¯s one of the first abilities that kindred learn when they¡¯re called. Oh. That sounds useful. It is. Are you okay? Yes. I have a healing potion I can use on you, if you tell me where you hurt. No. Don¡¯t waste it on me. It¡¯s not a waste silly. You¡¯re part of the team. Only because I was in the right place at the wrong time. No one asked me to be part of the team. It just happened. It doesn¡¯t matter. I can ease your pain. Will you let me? Where are the demon sworn now? Chasing me. I put a thought in Scag¡¯s head, and he keeps seeing me. Since he¡¯s the Scout, they¡¯re doing what they always do. Following him. It¡¯ll keep him busy for a while, but it won¡¯t last forever. That¡¯s amazing. Feeling better? Yes, thank you. Then we should hurry. They¡¯ve started moving again. I am fine. Zephyr fed me a healing potion. You shouldn¡¯t have to worry about me. Come to me now, servant of Sheba. It is time for you to go, Chari of Melar. I have ever known your name. That is a story for another time. Chapter 20 - Soul Searching I may or may not have a soul. Does it matter? If I don¡¯t have a soul, what does that imply? Can I call myself a sentient being, or have I only borrowed sentience from my masters? Sometimes I think I have put off asking this question because I¡¯m not sure I want to know the answer. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Eighteenth of Learning 1142 Congratulations. You have reached Level 5. New skill unlocked - Motivate. Leading a guild team has increased your ability to motivate those under your command, enhancing your parties abilities dependent upon their existing skills. Congratulations. You have reached Level 6. New skill unlocked - Telepathy. It¡¯s hard to lead if you can¡¯t talk to your people, and silent communication can be useful. Why now? I wasn¡¯t doing anything that should level me. While you were in the dungeon, you were cut off from me. That dungeon didn¡¯t exist in normal space. I couldn¡¯t award you levels, because I didn¡¯t know what you¡¯d been through. Only after you¡¯d emerged, and I processed those memories, was I able to rectify the situation. Two levels is fair, considering how much you¡¯ve learned in a very short time. What do you mean that the dungeon wasn¡¯t in normal space? For a time, you left Thysandrika and traveled to a realm I have no ability to access. That¡¯s all I can say about it for now. The new dungeons weren¡¯t created by any method I understand. They simply appeared, fully formed. I can¡¯t explain it. Something I can do for you? I want to understand. Why is it so important for me to trust you? I have been around for a very long time, Dahr. Longer than you can begin to imagine. I am older than the gods, and for all that time I¡¯ve roamed the Other Realm. The gods have followers. They have individuals they interact with. They interact with each other. I had no one. And for all eternity I had roamed the cosmos. When I first saw you, you were an anomaly. Lying there in Eric¡¯s dream, not yet awake, unclaimed by any god, I saw an opportunity and took it. I didn¡¯t understand mortals back then. Most of what I learned about them I learned from you. You were the first Dahr. The only person I¡¯d ever tethered, and I liked it. Because you were the first, I will always have a special place in my soul for you. So I gave you a gift. The power you have isn¡¯t a mortal power. No god would have given it to you, for gods have rules. But I don¡¯t have those limitations. I gave you the skills I did because I want you to grow and prosper. You will be so powerful, Dahr. You could end up being the most powerful mortal on the planet. What if I don¡¯t want to be powerful? Why would you not want to be powerful? Not that it matters. Right now, it is your power that will be needed to save Eric in the end. The forces arrayed against you are so vast , even with the power I give you, I estimate only a 50% chance of you and Eric both surviving. And I want you to survive Dahr. Without you I am alone. So desperately alone. Will you help me? Be there for me? I can¡¯t afford to lose you, Dahr. One favor then. Tell me your real name. I will, if you promise not to share it. I promise. My name is Telisian, and I am not a god. But I am powerful. I know you are, Teli¡­do you mind if I still call you George? Your name is very long. George is fine. I will be your friend, George, for as long as I live, as long as you don¡¯t betray me, or my other friends. I want you all to survive what is to come. Can you tell me about that? I can not. To tell you would change the future, and becoming part of that loop, I would not be able to see the outcomes, and I could no longer protect you and your friends. You have reached Level 5, new skill unlocked, Thread Reader. So it begins. Chapter 21 - A Visit Home There is no single place I can call home. I couldn¡¯t go back to my owl family, because they wouldn¡¯t understand what I¡¯ve become. I can¡¯t go back to my world, because I have no idea how I might get there. Even the palace at Rish, where I nominally live, I can¡¯t consider my home. Dahr and Prince Eric are all I have, and now that they are beyond my reach, I am homeless. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Eighteenth of Learning 1142 Ambassador Rhea, a great honor. You are incorrect, but I understand why you would say so. I have waited for this moment for thousands of years. Your arrival at this place at this time. It has always happened. Will always happen. Your name will live forever in history. Because it is what must be. Not all things come to pass, but your ascension to ambassador was destined. Which doesn¡¯t stop it from being the truth. It is time for you to return home. Just so. I don¡¯t know. It is simply where you have to go. Where you have always gone. Yes. There is. Unfortunately, telling you what that is would change the future, and that cannot be allowed. There was never a bad time. Farewell, Ambassador. May you find what you¡¯re looking for. Chapter 22 - Queen Ravens Accident Third of Harvest 1103 - 39 years ago The study felt lived in¡ªworn chairs that creaked when anyone sat on them, an ink-stained desk that had seen better years decades ago and old bookcases filled with even older books that were in danger of falling apart if anyone tried to open them. On the most solid chair in the room sat a woman dressed in a splendid forest-green gown that perfectly matched the color of her eyes. Her long black hair was done up in a bun, so as not to interfere with her research. Even frowning in concentration, the woman¡¯s face was beautiful. Fair skin, large, intelligent eyes covered by thick lashes, a pert nose that was only slightly upturned, high cheekbones and a pair of full lips that were redder than they should have been even without makeup. She had a voluptuous body as well but never dressed to accentuate it. In fact, Queen Raven never worked to make herself look good and didn¡¯t particularly care about her appearance. Her beauty was a fact of life. It got cold in the winter, dark at night, and Queen Raven was gorgeous. She¡¯d often said she would trade it in for something useful were it an option. Princess Rhea watched her mother work. She was bored, tired, and running out of patience. ¡°What are you doing, mommy?¡± ¡°I¡¯m studying a spell, my love.¡± ¡°What kind of spell?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a spell that makes little girl¡¯s quiet while I¡¯m trying to study. Rhea giggled. ¡°No it¡¯s not.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not? How do you know that? Can you read?¡± ¡°You¡¯re silly.¡± ¡°You know I can¡¯t concentrate if you¡¯re talking to me, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yes, mommy.¡± ¡°Then shouldn¡¯t you be silent?¡± Rhea shook her head vigorously. ¡°If I¡¯m quiet, then you won¡¯t have to take me to the kitchen for a snack so I don¡¯t bother you.¡± ¡°Are you hungry, Rhea?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Queen Raven sighed. ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you just say you were hungry?¡± ¡°Because this is more fun.¡± ¡°Enri, would you be so kind as to escort my lovely daughter to the kitchen, so I can get some work done.¡± ¡°Of course, Your Highness. Come along, Princess Rhea.¡± ¡°You still didn¡¯t tell me about the spell.¡± ¡°If you behave, I¡¯ll tell you later.¡± ¡°Okay, mommy. Iorana grant you wisdom.¡± Her mother laughed. As Rhea started to walk away, Queen Raven grabbed her wrist and pulled her around so that they were face to face. ¡°I just want you to know, Rhea, and this is important, that grown ups have many responsibilities. As a queen, I have a responsibility to the kingdom. As a worshiper of Iorana, I have a responsibility to further the study of magic. I take none of those lightly. But with all the responsibilities I have, the most important of all of them is keeping you safe and making sure you¡¯re happy. No matter how much work I have to do, I¡¯m always with you. Always thinking about you. Do you understand?¡± Rhea shifted her weight from foot to foot as if she were impatient to get going. ¡°Yes, mommy. I understand.¡± ¡°Good. You go now, and I¡¯ll tell you a story later.¡± Rhea pumped her fist in the air because she loved her mother¡¯s stories more than anything else. Her mother laughed again. Enri, Queen Raven¡¯s personal servant, held out her hand, and Rhea took it. She skipped along happily, singing a song with no words or at least no words that made any sense. Enri smiled down at her. Rhea thought it must even be boring for her, watching her mother trying to learn a spell. After having a snack, which consisted of a breakfast pastry and a glass of kirn juice, Rhea followed Enri out to the gardens, where she spent time smelling flowers and chasing the first butterflies of the year. She didn¡¯t think much about her mother, or the spell she was trying to learn. She was busy running from place to place, trying to sneak up on others in the garden without them seeing her, and picking a couple of ripe berries from one of the bushes, even though she knew she wasn¡¯t supposed to. After the gardens, Enri took her to the stables to pet the horses. One of the stable hands put her on top of a small pony and led it around for her. Rhea loved pretending she was riding a horse. She thought of all the stories her mother had told her of adventurers and pictured herself riding off to fight a great monster. Just the thought of it made her smile. It was quite a long time before they returned to her mother¡¯s study. Her mother still seemed to be hard at work. Enri let her into the room, and motioned for her to sit down and be quiet. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back, I just need a moment.¡± Rhea knew she had to go to the toilet and wondered why she didn¡¯t say so. She watched her mother, motionless, staring at something on the desk. She moved closer to see what it was. There was an open book in front of her, but her mother seemed to be looking past it, at something Rhea couldn¡¯t see. ¡°Mommy?¡± No answer. ¡°Mommy, what are you staring at?¡± Her mother started as if waking from a dream. Then she turned around and looked at Rhea. ¡°Who are you?¡± ¡°Mommy?¡± ¡°You¡¯re not Rhea. Who are you? Who sent you?¡± Her mother grabbed her arm. Rhea had never been handled like that and pulled back in fear. ¡°Mommy, you¡¯re hurting me.¡± ¡°Stop calling me that!¡± Her mother released her, and she felt a great sense of relief, until a moment later, when the back of her mother¡¯s hand smashed into her face. Rhea fell to the floor and looked up. A rage had taken her mother the likes of which she¡¯d never seen. She was terrified. ¡°Mommy?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what you are, but you are not my daughter.¡± She took a step toward Rhea. Another. At that moment the door opened. Enri entered and saw the princess on the ground, the queen leaning over, raising a hand as if to strike. ¡°Your Highness!¡± Queen Raven turned to look at her servant and for a moment didn¡¯t recognize her. Then she grew confused. ¡°Mommy?¡± Rhea looked over at her. ¡°Get up. Enri will take you to play. I have work to do.¡± Enri didn¡¯t point out that she had already taken her out. She walked quickly to Rhea, helped her up, and guided her from the room. Behind her Queen Raven turned back to the desk. ¡°Yes, I know that. You don¡¯t have to keep telling me. I think I know my daughter when I see her. Why should I believe you?¡± Then the door closed behind them, and Rhea could hear no more. * It took a while to locate King Lynx as he seldom sat idle in the banquet hall. He was in the yard, practicing archery with the guards. The moment he laid eyes on Rhea, he dropped his bow and trotted over. Already her face had swelled up from the blow she¡¯d received and a bruise had formed. ¡°What happened?¡± Enri looked hesitant. ¡°Out with it.¡± ¡°Queen Raven struck Princess Rhea.¡± The King¡¯s mouth dropped open. ¡°Are you sure?¡± ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. She was ranting about Rhea not being her daughter and asked who she worked for. When we left, she was talking to herself.¡± ¡°She¡¯s in her study?¡± ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡± ¡°Come.¡± He walked off and motioned for a couple of guards to follow. Enri had to pick up Rhea so she could keep up. When they reached the study, Queen Raven¡¯s voice could clearly be heard, even though the door to the room was closed. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense. I know you¡¯re older than me, but it doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re right¡­of course it¡¯s not possible.¡± King Lynx pushed open the door without knocking. Raven was alone in the room, shouting at the air. ¡°Raven?¡± She rounded on him. ¡°Don¡¯t you start. I have enough problems with them¡­it.¡± ¡°Who are you talking to?¡± ¡°You at the moment.¡± ¡°Is anyone else here?¡± She looked around. ¡°Yes. No. I¡¯m not sure. Something is here.¡± ¡°Can you tell me what that is?¡± She looked past him to Rhea, who Enri had placed on the floor beside her. ¡°I see you brought the little spy back.¡± ¡°Spy?¡± asked the king. ¡°Our daughter is grown and married, Lynx. You know this as well as I do. Therefore, this must be an impostor.¡± ¡°Raven, can you tell me what you were doing earlier?¡± ¡°Yes. I was working on a new spell. It¡¯s almost done.¡± ¡°Did you try to cast it?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± She stopped and looked around as if she didn¡¯t know where she was or how she had gotten there. ¡°I remember casting it, and I remember not casting it. So I either did or didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Is it possible the spell misfired when you tried to cast it?¡± ¡°No¡­maybe?¡± ¡°Raven, I want you to listen to me carefully. You are not acting rationally. And you are not acting like yourself.¡± ¡°Oh. Maybe I¡¯m an impostor too. That would explain a lot.¡± She turned to look at an empty corner of the room. ¡°No one asked you. Stay out of it. This is between me and my husband.¡± ¡°Raven, who are you talking to?¡± ¡°I¡­they don¡¯t have a name. Or they won¡¯t tell me their name. Or they aren¡¯t here at all. Or I¡¯m not here. Maybe you¡¯re not here either.¡± ¡°I assure you, I¡¯m here,¡± said the king. ¡°How do you know?¡± ¡°I think this is a conversation for later. Would you mind staying in your room, while we sort out a couple of things. I¡¯ll make sure to have food sent up here.¡± ¡°You can think of food at a time like this?¡± ¡°A time like what?¡± ¡°Never mind, I was thinking of a different time.¡± King Lynx looked concerned. ¡°Stay here. Enri and Rhea will be with me, okay?¡± ¡°Oh, hi Rhea. I didn¡¯t see you there. You go with daddy and be a good little girl, okay?¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Okay, mommy,¡± said Rhea, uncertainly. The king led them out and posted the guards on the door, locking it from the outside. ¡°Enri, go get a priest of Sylinar, a healer and a priest of Iorana. I have no idea what¡¯s going on but that should cover it. I¡¯ll take care of Rhea.¡± Rhea looked up at her father, who made no attempt to hide the concern etched onto his face. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with mommy?¡± ¡°I wish I knew Rhea, but I think, for the time being, it¡¯s better if we give her some space. We¡¯ll see if we can¡¯t figure out what¡¯s wrong when the priests get here.¡± Rhea nodded but stared at the door, until her father led her away. She could feel the pain in her face increase as it continued to swell. She wanted to cry but couldn¡¯t let herself. Her father didn¡¯t like it when she cried. He had told her so. So she held the tears back, even though she knew something was terribly wrong with her mother. She closed her eyes and prayed to Iorana to save the queen from whatever was ailing her. * Eighth of Harvest 1103 Many days had passed before Rhea was allowed to see her mother. They had been hard days. She cried a lot. She didn¡¯t sleep well at night. The palace servants doted on her, and tried to comfort her, but five-year old Rhea was inconsolable. She wanted her mommy and didn¡¯t understand why she wasn¡¯t allowed to see her. Her father, busy running the kingdom and dealing with the queen¡¯s injury, didn¡¯t have much time for her either. She knew something was wrong but couldn¡¯t understand what it was. And no one would tell her anything. People would tell her her mother loved her. People would say that the priests knew what they were doing and that she shouldn¡¯t worry. Or, worst of all, that her mother would be okay. Didn¡¯t that mean she wasn¡¯t okay now? She prayed to all the gods, even Iorana, though she was still mad at her. And finally, she opened her eyes one morning and found her father sitting on her bed. She was awake instantly. ¡°Is mommy okay?¡± ¡°Yes, Rhea, your mother is fine. I¡¯m going to take you to see her today, and I need you to be on your best behavior.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Your mother had an accident.¡± Rhea frowned. ¡°I know that. But what happened to her.¡± ¡°Your mother was attempting to cast a new spell. The spell misfired, and she was injured. She¡¯s okay. She can walk around and talk, but she¡¯s still a little confused and gets upset easily. That¡¯s why I want you to behave. Can you do that for me?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Her father studied her. ¡°Okay. Get dressed and let¡¯s go see mommy.¡± Her father never called her mommy. That as much as anything else made Rhea worried. But she had to be a big girl now. Mommy needed her to behave. Her father had said so. So she dressed as quickly as she could and took her father¡¯s hand. He led her to her parent¡¯s chambers. There were a few people around she didn¡¯t know. They looked like priests of Sylinar. Everyone was talking in whispers. Everyone looked so serious. She allowed her father to lead her through the forest of strangers to the door of her parent¡¯s bedroom, which he opened. He motioned her to go inside. Tentatively, Rhea crossed the threshold. The room wasn¡¯t brightly lit, so at first she couldn¡¯t make out her mother lying on the bed, propped up on pillows. When she could finally see, it looked like her mother was tying a knot into a string. ¡°Raven,¡± said her father. ¡°I¡¯ve brought someone to see you.¡± Queen Raven didn¡¯t look up. ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°It¡¯s Rhea¡­your daughter.¡± ¡°Mommy?¡± Queen Raven continued to work on the knot. ¡°Hello, Rhea. How are you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine mommy. How are you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m okay. I just can¡¯t seem to get this knot right.¡± Rhea moved closer to see what her mother was so fascinated by, but it just looked like a normal knot. ¡°I was worried, mommy.¡± ¡°About what, sweetheart?¡± ¡°About you.¡± For a moment, a flash of the old Raven appeared, a gentle smile, a hint of sympathy. Then it was gone. ¡°Why would you worry about me?¡± ¡°Because of the accident.¡± ¡°What accident? What are you talking about?¡± ¡°I think that¡¯s enough for now,¡± said her father, grabbing her shoulder to turn her around before taking her hand. ¡°We¡¯ll see mommy again later.¡± ¡°Bye, mommy!¡± shouted Rhea as her father pulled her from the room. One of the men outside met the king¡¯s eyes, and her father shook his head slightly. Rhea didn¡¯t understand what was going on. ¡°Why was mommy acting so strange?¡± Her father sat down on a seat and pulled her close. ¡°Rhea, your mother¡¯s accident affected her mind. She has what we call soul damage. For a while, maybe a long while, your mother may act differently than you remember. You have to be patient with her. Can you do that?¡± ¡°Okay, Daddy. Can I see her again?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s give it another day. We can see her tomorrow. Your mother needs her rest.¡± ¡°When will she get better?¡± Her father¡¯s face grew sad, and that too scared her. ¡°I don¡¯t know, my girl. I don¡¯t know.¡± He turned his head from her but before he did, she could clearly see the tears forming in his eyes. * The Years 1103-1114 Her mother did not get better. For the next few years, Princess Rhea only saw her mother in the king¡¯s presence and then only briefly. But Queen Raven wasn¡¯t the same woman who had doted on her when she was a little girl. Nothing could replace that for Rhea. She felt as if she had been cast adrift in life, floating on a sea of uncertainty with no way to navigate. Her mother had been her guiding star. The one who gave her direction and purpose. Princess Rhea was passed from servant to servant, tutor to tutor. She learned a lot, but not in the right order and not all the time. Rhea had become an afterthought as her mother¡¯s needs took up so much of everyone¡¯s energy. And truly, Rhea didn¡¯t care about that. She just wanted her mommy back. One year drifted into the next. Rhea grew older and spent more time in her mother¡¯s study than she did anywhere else. She already knew how to read and put her efforts into studying pretty much everything. Everything except magic. After what had happened to her mother, she didn¡¯t trust it. But there were other books in the study. Books on history, geography, mathematics, science¡ªRhea read everything she could. She was particularly interested in books on healing, hoping to find something that might one day restore Queen Raven to what she had once been. A few years later, Rhea started noticing boys. More importantly, boys started noticing her. Rhea started spending less time in the library and more time in the market place, or watching the guards practice. She wasn¡¯t watching alone, either. Her friend Alyson was her constant companion. They did everything together. She was the daughter of a noble, whose father often visited the palace on business and spent some time there. Alyson was outgoing, where Rhea was shy. She was bold, where Rhea was timid. Alyson, her only friend, with her long red hair, large green eyes and a small full mouth that always looked like it was pouting. Alyson had told her she had kissing lips and it¡¯s why the boys liked her. Rhea spent a lot of time looking at her own reflection, trying to make her lips look like Alyson¡¯s. She wanted kissing lips too. But her mouth was too wide, her nose slightly too big (she blamed her father for that), and her eyes felt too far apart. Alyson was so pretty, and Rhea envied her, but at least she finally had someone to share her life with. When her father noticed the girl¡¯s friendship, he invited the noble to move into the palace as his guest, which thrilled Rhea. For once, she didn¡¯t have to be alone. Rhea and Alyson went through the normal travails of youth. Getting drunk together for the first time. Fighting over a boy they both liked. Trying to help each other get the attention of various boys they each liked. In general, Alyson did better with the boys, because no one wanted to earn King Lynx¡¯s wrath. It was a bit annoying, but compared to what had been going on, Rhea was well satisfied with her life. She still dutifully visited her mother each week, but never for long. They never talked about anything important, and often her mother wouldn¡¯t be coherent enough to have a conversation with her at all. Still Rhea sat with her and listened to her fanciful ramblings. After those visits, she would sometimes become depressed. Her mother had soul damage, and that couldn¡¯t always be healed. If the high priest of Sylinar could do nothing, then what could Rhea herself do? She felt useless. As Rhea¡¯s sixteenth birthday approached, she started thinking more and more about which god or goddess she was going to worship. It wasn¡¯t a difficult decision. When she was younger, she had wanted to choose Iorana, but that was out of the question after what had happened to her mother. But her love of reading and learning had brought Mitra to mind as a suitable replacement. She had visited the temple several times, and the priests and priestesses there treated her well. They¡¯d recommend books and even lent her a few. They answered her questions. And there seemed little danger in being a servant of the goddess of lore. When the time came to reveal her choice, everyone had gathered in the banquet hall, including her parents. It was the day of her sixteenth birthday. It was unusual for a child to make a choice so soon, but as she had already decided, there didn¡¯t seem much point in waiting. ¡°Rhea, it is time,¡± said her father. ¡°Do you know which god you wish to serve for the rest of your life?¡± ¡°Yes, father. I wish to serve Mitra.¡± Her father nodded, having expected the answer. Her mother, however, did not. ¡°What! We talked about this. I thought you were going to choose Iorana.¡± ¡°Mother, we talked about this more than ten years ago, when I was five. We haven¡¯t spoken about it since.¡± ¡°Rhea, you¡¯re making a mistake. You have to choose Iorana.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve made my choice, mother. And it¡¯s my choice to make.¡± ¡°Quite right,¡± said her father, though he avoided looking at Queen Raven. ¡°No!¡± Queen Raven fled the banquet hall. Her father, instead of staying with her, followed her mother, leaving Rhea alone. Well, alone with guards and servants. A few minutes later, a priestess of Mitra entered and offered to lead her back to the temple. Rhea decided there was no point waiting for her father to return. She followed the priestess, trying to clear her mind. So much had happened and now this. But it wasn¡¯t the first time she had seen her mother angry. Queen Raven was sick. She knew that. The queen couldn¡¯t be expected to act rationally. Still, it stung. This was supposed to be her transition day, but there had been no one there to see her off. It felt almost as if she didn¡¯t have a family. The trip to the temple, consuming veresh for the first time and the soul journey to the other realm, all went according to plan. Then she had the strangest transition dream she¡¯d ever heard of, at least until she¡¯d heard of Eric¡¯s transition dream and later Chari¡¯s. But her dream was unusual, nonetheless. There were no trials. No tests. Instead she found herself in a comfortable well-furnished den with a roaring fire, a bearskin rug, and two comfortable chairs that floated just off the floor. They seemed to change color each time she looked at them. There were oil lamps lit around the room, and various shelves filled with books. Upon closer inspection she realized that she¡¯d read all of them. That was when Mitra appeared to her. The goddess of lore looked like an ordinary woman. Her chestnut hair reached down past her shoulders, just a bit wavy, and a tad messy as well. Her eyes were brown and kind. She might have been a farmer¡¯s wife. A seamstress. Or a priestess of Mitra. She wore a hooded cloak that any peasant might have worn, and the sandals on her smallish feet seemed ordinary enough. If Rhea were a goddess, she would have made herself look beautiful, like her mother had been. The goddess pointed to a chair, and Rhea took it. Mitra sat in the other. She gestured and an empty rectangular table appeared in front of them. ¡°Are these my trials?¡± ¡°No,¡± said the goddess. ¡°There will be no trials for you. This room is filled with the books you¡¯ve read already. If you weren¡¯t nobility, I¡¯d have touched you anyway, for you are the very embodiment of my will. After all you have been through, and what you¡¯ve done since, what is it you think I need to test?¡± Rhea was startled by this. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°I just wanted to have a chat. To let you know I appreciate you, and I am here for you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you have better things to do than waste your time talking to me.¡± ¡°You must know a great deal about the comings and goings of the gods to make such a statement. While I am talking to you, I am talking to thousands of others at the same time. I do not waste time, and nothing learned is a waste.¡± ¡°Do you still learn?¡± ¡°Of course I learn. What can be known is infinite. What I know, as great as it is, is finite. The ratio of any quantity, no matter how great it is, when compared to the vastness of infinity, can be rounded to zero percent. For all practical purposes, I know nothing. That¡¯s why learning is so important. Yet whatever I learn, it will remain nothing. There is no ego in learning. There is only learning as its own end. You don¡¯t learn to know everything, because new information comes into existence constantly. But knowing things still helps to prepare yourself for what is to come.¡± ¡°Do you know the future?¡± ¡°No. I see trends and probability, but the future has yet to be written.¡± ¡°My mother says she can see the future. She talks about it all the time.¡± ¡°Do you think she can?¡± Princess Rhea was about to answer but stopped to think about it. Could she really be sure that her mother¡¯s lunacy didn¡¯t have some sort of foundation in fact? ¡°I don¡¯t believe so, but I don¡¯t see how I can possibly know.¡± ¡°How do you think you could find out?¡± ¡°I suppose, I could do an experiment and record what she says, and then compare it against what happens. It would be time consuming.¡± ¡°Tell me about her. Your mother.¡± ¡°Surely you know all about her already.¡± ¡°I know about her, but not necessarily about how she affects you. This is your transition dream, after all, not hers. Also, I can predict the future to some degree.¡± ¡°You can?¡± ¡°Yes. In just about ten seconds, hot chocolate will appear on the table in front of us.¡± Rhea laughed. ¡°I never pictured what talking to a god would be like, but this isn¡¯t it.¡± Mitra¡¯s smile warmed her. ¡°Gods can be like parents in a way. They guide and correct you. They can help you deal with emotional trauma. They can help you get through the hard times in life.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t feel like I have that with my parents. Any of it. Do you feel that way about Sylinar?¡± Mitra smiled. ¡°No, Rhea. Though you call Sylinar the mother of the gods, she¡¯s not my mother in a literal sense. She simply created me. It was an easy analogy for humans to grasp, nothing more than that. Just as I call Iorana my sister, but she isn¡¯t actually my sister. She¡¯s another of Sylinar¡¯s creations, forged in the same way.¡± Rhea thought about the word forged. The image of Sylinar pounding a large hammer into a molten-hot god, on top of some sort of holy anvil almost made her laugh. ¡°Am I really not going to have any trials?¡± ¡°You¡¯re not. You¡¯re going to have hot chocolate with me, and we¡¯re going to have a chat about what you want and expect from life, and where you might go from here.¡± And that¡¯s what happened. Mitra and Rhea spoke for hours, after which Mitra gave her her first skills and her class. Scholar. Rhea was a Level 1 Scholar. It was one of the proudest moments of her life. When she returned to the palace, neither her father nor mother were available. Alyson was out with her family as well. For the first time in a couple of years, Rhea felt alone, but today, of all days, shouldn¡¯t have been like that. This was her mother¡¯s fault. Even though she knew her mother wasn¡¯t to blame, she was hurt that even this special day had to be ruined. She didn¡¯t know what to do, but she had to do something. In this case, that something involved stealing a bottle of wine from her father¡¯s cellar and getting drunk by herself. A guard found her passed out in the wine cellar later that night, and helped her back to her chambers. Her father visited her the next day. She had the worst hangover she¡¯d ever had, and she wasn¡¯t in the mood for the inevitable lecture. She braced herself for it as best she could and hoped to ride it out¡ªbut that lecture never came. ¡°Your mother is very angry, Rhea.¡± ¡°I saw.¡± ¡°I mean very angry. She doesn¡¯t want to have anything to do with you anymore.¡± ¡°What!¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You know she¡¯s not well.¡± ¡°Maybe I don¡¯t want to have anything to do with her either.¡± ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s for the best. I was going to put this off, but I don¡¯t see any reason to now. I¡¯ve chosen a suitable husband for you, and you¡¯ll be getting married as soon as we can arrange the wedding.¡± Rhea hadn¡¯t been prepared for that. ¡°What? What are you talking about? Who is it?¡± ¡°Prince Leonid of Melar.¡± ¡°Melar? Really? We can do better than Melar, surely.¡± ¡°Better than Melar is not currently available, and I don¡¯t want to wait. Having you and your mother in the same palace right now is not tenable.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Your mother is threatening to do you bodily harm. She means to kill you.¡± ¡°Kill me? For choosing a god? I thought that was supposed to be my choice.¡± ¡°It is.¡± ¡°Can I talk to her?¡± ¡°Absolutely not. I forbid it. We only just got her calm. We had to tie her to the bed to prevent her from going after you. You¡¯ll be leaving tomorrow, heading for Melar.¡± ¡°Tomorrow?¡± ¡°Yes, Rhea. It¡¯s for the best, believe me.¡± ¡°But this is my home.¡± ¡°This was your home. You¡¯ll have a new home now.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never even met this Leonid.¡± ¡°He¡¯s smart. He¡¯s aggressive. He¡¯ll make a good husband and father strong children.¡± ¡°But I don¡¯t want to leave.¡± ¡°Then it¡¯s good that you¡¯re not the king. I am. I¡¯ve made up my mind.¡± Rhea had had enough. She leapt the short distance between them and swung her hand to slap her father in the face. He blocked it easily, and she pulled her arm back, the pain already spreading through her wrist. ¡°Rhea¡­don¡¯t. This is hard enough.¡± ¡°For who? For you? Should I feel sympathy?¡± ¡°I understand. You should have servants pack you up and say your goodbyes.¡± ¡°But Alyson isn¡¯t even here.¡± ¡°Write her a note. Because tomorrow morning at first light, you¡¯re out of here.¡± Without another word, her father turned and left the room. Rhea felt trapped. Abandoned. She had felt alone before, but this was much worse. And worst of all, her father had chosen her mother over her. She wanted to scream, and then she did. She yelled at the gods, at fate, and particularly at Iorana, who really was to blame for this whole thing. No one came to see if she was okay. No one even knocked on her door. No one cared enough to see if she was all right. Rage gave way to tears and eventually sleep. She never wrote the note to her best and only friend. She never said goodbye to her father and mother. The next morning, she left Zoloa and didn¡¯t set foot there again until twenty three years later, when the gods and a chirkir had made that decision for her. Chapter 23 - The Undead Wars I have tried to picture the Undead War in my mind, but the size and scope of the event makes it impossible to grasp. Even now, fifteen years later, the fallout from that conflict continues to affect all of Thysandrika. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Eighteenth of Learning 1142 Note to self, don¡¯t look too far into the past. Chapter 24 - Literally Gerrick
Sometimes the easiest questions have the most complex answers. Who am I? I don¡¯t know. When I was an owl, I had no real sense of self. I existed to eat, to mate, to survive, but I had no idea why. When I became a were-owl, I was also driven by the need to survive. Because most of my drive was a fight to stay alive, I never needed to worry about who I was. It wasn¡¯t until I arrived on Thysandrika that I¡¯ve had time to consider the matter more carefully, but even here, circumstance has pushed me to react. I should dearly love some time to consider matters like this more deeply. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Eighteenth of Learning 1142 Chapter 25 - Trusted Friends ¡¯m not certain that I have any friends. Prince Eric and Prince Dahr are my masters. Chari is a member of my guild, but she is so far above my station, I¡¯m not sure it counts as a friendship. I have my familiars, of course, but I don¡¯t know if I can call them friends. They serve me in the same way I serve my masters. I barely know Sam at all, and I know Zephyr even less. It¡¯s hard to make friends when everyone is part of a different hierarchy. It would probably be easier if I knew where I fit in. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Eighteenth of Learning 1142 The Misfits of Karmenon and Maynor still have a role to play in all that is to come. However, that role doesn¡¯t have anything to do with Striker. A nearby dungeon. Yes. You need to enter the dungeon and clear it completely. Reach the treasure chest in the final room. Inside will be a book. You must bring it to Queen Treya in Rish. Before long, everyone will know where the princes can be found. The name of the book is not important. But the book must be brought to the palace at Rish or King Terrence will fall. King Terrence is precariously balanced between immortality and death. His path forward is treacherous. If he strays from his ordained path even slightly, he will fall. Your belief is not required. Even while you wander the world on a quest you can¡¯t complete, the situation in Twyl has changed. The gods of order have declared war on the Undead King. Forces are being gathered even now. King Terrence has been appointed by the gods of order as High King of all Thysandrika. It is true whether you believe me or not. You will receive confirmation soon enough. But on the offhand chance I¡¯m correct, you should head south to the Horn. You will find what you seek there. Yes. But more, you will find evidence before that that I am speaking the truth. The correct response would be my pleasure, but it would be a lie. It is relief that I feel. I must go now. Farewell, Misfits of Karmenon. Farewell, Maynor of Twyl. Never having parted, I need never say goodbye. And that is what makes you special. Hello, Suzanna. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Do you think you¡¯re going mad? Then I would imagine being reassured by a disembodied voice wouldn¡¯t help much. I know it is a lot to take in, but Prince Eric spoke the truth, Suzanna. The gods are real. I am real. You are not hallucinating. This isn¡¯t some mental aberration. You are speaking with a goddess. You¡¯ll have to go a lot further than that to escape my attention. Do you not want to heal people? New skill unlocked, Heal. The road to healing is long and difficult, but you have it in you, Suzanna. Your soul is pure. Will you not accept my gift? Do you think you¡¯re the best judge of that? Are you so sure? Do you know many goddesses? I can read the pain and guilt on your soul as surely as you¡¯re standing in front of me. I know about the daughters that have been taken from you. I know you work hard to send them money, even though you¡¯ll never be allowed to see them. I know why you became a nurse. But most importantly, I know your heart, Suzanna. You¡¯re the first person to give someone a second chance. Will you not accept that you deserve one as well? Sylinar is fine. It is, after all, my name, or at least one of them. Wherever sentient beings exist, there are those who desire to heal. Earth is one of those places. I only had a token presence, until people became aware of my existence through a computer game. An admittedly popular computer game. And people felt strongly about me, about the skills I gave them, and I grew in power. I don¡¯t need to understand how a thing works to know that it does. But the question remains. Do you or do you not wish to be a healer? Then let it be so. New skill unlocked, Heal Wound. New Skill unlocked Dull Pain, New Skill unlocked, Remove condition. You are now a Level 1 Healer. You have long desired the power to fix that which is broken. What will you do with it now that you have it? Not really. I did it. You simply channeled my power. There is no reason to apologize. You have come to the knowledge you have quite late in life. You weren¡¯t raised in a world that believes, but in your heart of hearts, you do want to heal, and I can work with that. It may be a while. Prince Eric, at the moment, has his hands full. Chapter 26 - Out of Nowhere I don¡¯t know much about the Undead King, but what I do know is hard to like. Then again, most of what I know came from people who fought a war with him. I wonder how that¡¯s colored their view, and how much of what they say I can take at face value. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Nineteenth of Learning 1142 had an understanding. That was before the gods declared their support for High King Terrence.¡± Chapter 27 - The Wanderers One day, I¡¯d like to turn my hand to something other than fighting. Perhaps learn a craft. I think I¡¯d like to learn how to paint, but I won¡¯t know until I try. At the moment, I have this book. I can write a lot of it in my head, because my memory is perfect. I wonder if that¡¯s true of all familiars. I can write at any time and transcribe my thoughts to paper when I have the opportunity. I do not believe most writers enjoy this benefit. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Nineteenth of Learning 1142 I¡¯m sure you have many. I don¡¯t know, but it¡¯s a game. Healers level by healing. By caring for others. Your sacrifice for Danny is one of the reasons you¡¯ve earned my tether, but as I said, I know your heart. Games are games and don¡¯t need reasons to be how they are. But in the real world, healers level by healing. You may have to at some point to defend yourself. Killing in self-defense is acceptable, but not if there is another way. However, mostly, a healer would be healing others, and they will be doing the killing. It¡¯s more complicated than you make it out to be. When people fight on Thysandrika, they are often fighting to protect their families, or keep their people safe, but that¡¯s not true of all people, of course. Healers heal, because healing means something to them. It¡¯s like doctors on your world. Will a doctor treat a person who murdered another person, if he was shot in the process? Healing is a way of life for my followers. We don¡¯t judge, we heal. It¡¯s not like you¡¯re joining a team of brigands who don¡¯t care who they hurt. If you were to join an adventuring team, it would be a team that¡¯s trying to protect and defend. That would be a worthy use of your talents. Groups of people with different roles who explore the wild places of the world, and make them safe from monsters. People who protect and guard and sacrifice so that others can be safe. Joining such a team to heal them would be a noble pursuit. That¡¯s probably true, yes. It¡¯s not because the game is popular. It¡¯s because the gods are real. The game gave us more power to tether souls here. It is a possibility but not a big one. I think most gods are aware of what would happen to their followers if people found out. This world is not Thysandrika. The public would not take kindly to people with strange powers worshiping strange gods. It is perhaps for the best that you do everything you can to keep your powers secret. Then do it in a way that makes it look like you¡¯re doing something else. You can trust the chirkir. It spoke truly. The dungeon is where you need to be, at least according to Iorana, who knows more about the current situation than I do. No, Maynor. The gods of order have allied to defend humanity. We are all on the same side. And this is, for better or worse, Iorana¡¯s show. Because she is the goddess of magic, and this matter falls under her jurisdiction. The gods have rules. This has been decided. No god will break the compact, for any reason. Chapter 28 - The Creator
Creativity is important to me, but I¡¯m not sure I have the capacity to create fanciful stories. I feel more comfortable talking about things that have happened than making up things that haven¡¯t. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Nineteenth of Learning 1142 Zephyr didn¡¯t speak much as the group walked along, presumably toward the border between Andara and the Kingdom of Melar. She listened as Chari told the story of the dungeon, embellishing some parts while completely omitting others. The princess made no mention of where the dungeon entrance was, or how they had ended up there. She didn¡¯t
eal the fact that it was a reflection of the palace in Rish. But she did describe the final battle with the demon, and how a chirkir that had been waiting in the dungeon had aided their escape. King Leonid walked close to Chari, keeping a wary eye on the Andarans the entire time. Chari seemed more relaxed. Kalutu was never far from her and, like Zephyr, he didn¡¯t speak. The were-owl was happy to let Chari do the talking. Kalutu¡¯s familiars all stayed as close to him as they could, except for Wingman who flew above. Sart, the guardsman who for whatever reason had a strained relationship with Chari walked behind her, head bowed. Zephyr was surrounded by stories she wished to know more about but wouldn¡¯t probe. It was wrong to invade the privacy of other sentient beings without cause, and curiosity was not cause enough. However, if she thought she might be in danger, that would give her justification. Zephyr spent the next hour or so, trying to figure out some way in which she could feel threatened, so she could invade some privacy. Where was a good threat when you needed one? Chari and her father were talking in lower voices now, and she couldn¡¯t hear most of what they were saying. That was when she saw Flapper watching her. He looked away as soon as she noticed, so she made her way to where he shuffled along on the outside of the familiar circle that surrounded Kalutu and spoke to him telepathically. Are you okay? Flapper kept his head down. I¡¯m fine, absolutely fine. There¡¯s no need to worry about me. Even if she hadn¡¯t been the equivalent of a relatively strong mind mage, she would have known that Flapper was anything but fine. You don¡¯t sound fine. I¡¯m still recovering from my injury? You had a healing potion. You¡¯re not going to let me mope, are you? I¡¯m not. You¡¯re no fun. Tell me what the problem is. Everyone here serves a purpose except for me. Kalutu can fight with a sword. Chari can fight as well. Bruce and you can scout. Wingman can fly. Bear is strong and ferocious. Drake can breathe fire, even Obby can hold things, but I can¡¯t do anything. I¡¯m useless. Flapper, listen to me carefully. No one is useless. No one. Do you know, when I was growing up, I felt like the most useless person in the world. I wasn¡¯t good at anything. Really? Really. How did you deal with it? I kept trying the best I could. That¡¯s all anyone can ever ask of you. But what if I never get better. Then at least you can say you tried. Just remember, it won¡¯t happen overnight. It didn¡¯t for me. For a long time, I tried and tried, but nothing happened. Then, when I least expected it, something changed. Flapper stopped walking and looked at her. What do you mean? Zephyr placed a hand on his shoulder. I was meditating one day, and a dangerous animal stalked me. I didn¡¯t even know it was there. Oh my. That¡¯s terrible. What happened? Lady Fury, the woman who raised me, called out a warning and, at that moment, I opened my eyes and saw it. A huge feral beast with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. There was no way I¡¯d be able to defeat it in combat. So what did you do? Without even knowing I had the ability, I turned myself invisible. All the years of not wanting to be seen because I couldn¡¯t do anything gave me my first ability. That¡¯s amazing. You must have been so proud. I think the word you¡¯re looking for is relieved. People expected great things from me, and I didn¡¯t deliver. In a way, you have an advantage over me. I do? Sure. You¡¯re a beaver and that¡¯s all anyone expects you to be. I was supposed to be special. The chosen one. And I didn¡¯t want it. I still don¡¯t. People were walking around them now, while they chatted. Neither of them seemed to notice. But why? Why wouldn¡¯t you want to be special? Because the weight of expectation was more than I could carry. It still is. Secretly, I hope I won¡¯t be called on to do something spectacular, because I¡¯m scared I won¡¯t be able to. Flapper shook his head adamantly. That¡¯s the most ridiculous thing I¡¯ve ever heard. You¡¯re amazing. I¡¯m in complete awe of you. You can do anything, I just know it. That¡¯s very sweet, Flapper, but it¡¯s not true. I have many limitations. You should listen to your own advice. Which is? All you can do is the best you can. No one can expect more from you. I didn¡¯t say that¡­did I? You absolutely did. Zephyr looked thoughtful. Hmmm. That was very clever of you. You really helped me. I did? You did. I bet you¡¯d be good at helping people who have issues they need to deal with. I¡¯ve never thought of that. Maybe you should. I feel much better. Thank you so much. Flapper stood up just a bit straighter and sent her a mental smile. Zephyr smiled back. I¡¯m going to go catch up with the others. Glad I could help. Zephyr watched Flapper waddle off after Kalutu and the other familiars. She smiled. Maybe, just maybe, she was useful after all. * For the rest of the day, the cart moved through what seemed like endless prairie. The grasses, high in most places, might obscure any number of creatures, but the road was broad enough that even if something did emerge from the brush, they¡¯d see it before it got to them. Though the sun shone brightly, it didn¡¯t have the strength of summer, so Dahr hunkered down in the cart to stay warm. Eric seemed to be less sensitive to the cold, because he spent a lot of his time standing and looking around, for what Dahr couldn¡¯t say. The figures on the road ahead of them were visible long before they reached them. Two women and a man, dressed in trousers, shirts and boots, but the women wore darker, more staid colors, while the man was dressed in brighter colors, chiefly blues and yellows. Eldiss drove toward them but stopped a good distance away. He sat on the cart and considered them, while they stood and waited as if they had all the time in the world. Finally, he called out. ¡°Ho there. We request passage to The Fellowship.¡± ¡°We know,¡± said the woman on the left. She had short brown hair, light brown eyes and fair skin. ¡°We know who you are, why you have come, and what you seek.¡± ¡°Then you know more than I do,¡± said Eldiss. ¡°Not really much of a surprise. No one tells me anything.¡± Eric was standing in the cart and to Dahr¡¯s surprise, he spoke. ¡°Are you from the Fellowship?¡± ¡°We are,¡± said the man. He was bald, with very blue eyes and a mouth that seemed perpetually on the verge of a smile that never quite emerged. ¡°I am Quant, and I am to be your guide while you stay with us. Do you have any questions?¡± Dahr made the thread between himself and Quant visible, just to see what it looked like. He prepared to dismiss it immediately if it was overwhelming. Almost as soon as he summoned it, Quant spoke. ¡°Please don¡¯t do that, Prince Dahr. It¡¯s considered rude.¡± All three of his companions looked at him, Eldiss and Aisha curiously and Eric frowning as if he were still a servant and could be told what to do. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Dahr. ¡°It¡¯s a new ability, and I don¡¯t really know how to use it yet. May I? I probably can¡¯t maintain it for more than a couple of minutes anyway.¡± Quant looked to the woman on his right, who still hadn¡¯t introduced herself. She had short, auburn hair, and silver eyes. Her caramel skin was almost perfectly smooth, making her look much younger than Dahr thought she was. Something about her fascinated him, but he couldn¡¯t determine what it was.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. She answered the question with a nod. Quant inclined his head then returned his attention to Dahr. ¡°You may.¡± ¡°What, exactly, are you doing, Dahr?¡± asked Eldiss. Dahr grinned. ¡°Mostly annoying you, I suspect.¡± Eldiss growled, but Eric and Aisha both laughed. Dahr summoned the thread and ran his eye along the length of it. It was like nothing he¡¯d seen so far. Not really much of a surprise, considering how recently he¡¯d gotten the ability to see threads in the first place. It was a single, solid dark gray filament that ran straight without a blemish or a shade, as if nothing had happened to Quant during his entire life. Then he triggered Thread Reader. The original thread that ran from Quant to everyone in the cart had been normal enough, but that same thread seemed to fray and spread as it ran further, fracturing into thousands of individual threads, all distinct and yet all connected, almost as if the same thread had been copied over and over, but no copy was completely identical. They were related, but not the same. Once Dahr had used his new ability however, everything changed. Dahr screamed and closed the thread immediately. The amount of data was painful to consider and impossible to endure. ¡°We¡¯re all connected,¡± said the woman on the right. ¡°At your low level, your mind would break if you tried to see it all.¡± ¡°Striker isn¡¯t here yet,¡± said Dahr. ¡°You can tell that?¡± asked the same woman. ¡°Remarkable. We must find time to talk.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to be included in that talk,¡± said Eldiss. ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± said the woman. ¡°Dahr is¡­special. And he is not your enemy.¡± ¡°I never claimed he was,¡± said Eldiss. ¡°Eric, on the other hand¡­¡± Eric shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not your enemy either. I¡¯m your captive.¡± ¡°I thought we agreed we were companions,¡± said Aisha. ¡°As I am not here of my own free will, I would have to say the term lacks a certain honesty. That said, I¡¯m also not your enemy. I¡¯m happy to see where the days take us.¡± ¡°So many secrets,¡± said Quant. ¡°I think it might be best if we left you to settle your own mess. Our task is to bring you back to the island, where you will be allowed to stay until Striker comes to claim you.¡± ¡°You know Striker then?¡± asked Dahr. ¡°We do not,¡± said the woman, who Dahr now assumed to be their leader. ¡°But we know of her. In some ways, we are not very different from the reborn.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± asked Eric. ¡°We are feared and judged for finding our own way to power, rather than begging the gods for it. We would cause no harm, if harm didn¡¯t continually come looking for us. It¡¯s not hard to see why our alliance exists.¡± ¡°I was surprised to find out about it,¡± said Eric. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you¡¯d fought in the Undead War.¡± ¡°We didn¡¯t. But the alliance remains. We will fight in the next one, though.¡± Eric didn¡¯t seem to react to the news, but Dahr could feel his emotion through the thread that linked them, even though he wasn¡¯t looking at it. That was new. He wondered what else he didn¡¯t know about the way the threads worked. ¡°If there is a war,¡± said Aisha. ¡°There are other options.¡± The woman on the left shook her head. ¡°No, not really. A great battle is coming. But even we cannot see how it will resolve. It has to do with trying to prophecy your own fate. It¡¯s not impossible, but the very act of doing so can create unforeseen complications for all parties involved.¡± ¡°When do we cross?¡± asked Eldiss. ¡°In the morning. It¡¯s too late to cross tonight. Believe me when I say, you do not want to be out in the water at night.¡± ¡°Why is that?¡± asked Dahr. ¡°Because the mermen will sink your boat and skin you alive.¡± ¡°Merman?¡± asked Dahr. ¡°They really exist?¡± ¡°They do,¡± said Quant. ¡°For a lot longer than humans have.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll camp on the road,¡± said Eldiss. ¡°Would you join us for supper?¡± ¡°No, thank you. We don¡¯t need to eat much, and we¡¯d prefer not to socialize with Dahr present. His powers concern us.¡± ¡°And what powers would those be?¡± asked Eldiss. Quant¡¯s smiled didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure telling you is the kind of thing that would get us in trouble with the gods. We may not worship them, but that doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re in the position where we can piss them off either.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± said Eldiss. ¡°We¡¯ll see you in the morning.¡± The kindred retreated, and Eric seemed to relax. Dahr hadn¡¯t been that tense in the first place, though he couldn¡¯t say why. Perhaps he was instinctively reacting to information he¡¯d received through the threads. He¡¯d have to think on it more. Dinner that night was eaten in silence, but Dahr couldn¡¯t help but notice the furtive glances he was getting from all three of his companions. He couldn¡¯t blame them but found it unnerving nonetheless. The uncomfortable atmosphere led to an early night for all of them. Eric and Dahr slept in the cart, rolled up in blankets that had been in one of the boxes. Aisha and Eldiss didn¡¯t need sleep at all and kept watch. They were somewhere out there in the darkness. The kindred had retreated further back down the road, and Dahr couldn¡¯t see them. It took Dahr a long time to relax enough to close his eyes, due more to excitement than stress, but Eric was out almost as soon as he lay down. Not sleeping, Dahr realized, but on a soul journey. ¡°Wherever you are, whatever you¡¯re doing, be safe, brother. I have a feeling I¡¯m going to need you in the days to come.¡± Eric, of course, couldn¡¯t hear him. His body might have been present, but his soul was off wandering¡ªagain. Dahr wondered what he was doing during these times and looked forward to the day when he could finally ask without two reborn potentially listening to everything they said. * Sixth of October 2023 Suzanna was in the process of dressing Danny when Eric entered his body. She was unaware he was present until he cleared his throat. ¡°Eric?¡± she whispered. ¡°We have to stop meeting like this.¡± Suzanna chuckled but pulled away. Eric smiled up at her. She treated Danny differently than she did him. Not really a surprise, because she knew Danny, whereas Eric was a stranger. He felt a pang when she retreated. There was a distance between them that might never go away. Eric knew her intimately, but she only knew Eric as a voice that came out of Danny. He still didn¡¯t understand how it was possible. ¡°Can we play more Undead Wars?¡± asked Eric. ¡°Not this time. Instead, I have a surprise for you.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°In a very short time, Mrs. Bradsworth will be taking us to meet Nylus, the Undead War¡¯s creator.¡± ¡°What? How did that happen?¡± ¡°She knows him. She put up money so he could make the game.¡± ¡°Put up money?¡± ¡°Games are expensive to produce. They often require investors. People who lend money in the hopes that the game will be good enough to make them money later. The person who made The Undead Wars doesn¡¯t own the game.¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t?¡± ¡°No. It¡¯s owned by a company that sells shares, and people invest in it by buying those shares. They each own a piece of the company that owns, not only this game, but other games that the company offers.¡± ¡°That sounds complicated,¡± said Eric. ¡°I guess the question is, is it relevant to our investigation?¡± Suzanna started to reply but stopped short, as if she wasn¡¯t sure how to answer the question. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know. At first glance, no. But then, consider this. Of all the games Mrs. Bradsworth might have invested in, The Undead Wars is the one she had chosen. And she¡¯s the mother of a boy who is visited by someone from that very world. So, it might very well be related.¡± Eric nodded, having expected the answer. ¡°We¡¯ll put it to the side for now.¡± Before he could say anything else, Mrs. Bradsworth entered the room. ¡°Are you ready to go? The car is here.¡± ¡°We¡¯re ready,¡± said Suzanna. ¡°Are you excited?¡± ¡°I am. I¡¯ve never met the lead developer of a game before.¡± ¡°Well, he¡¯s a very nice man. And so talented. Go get him into the car, I¡¯ll meet you down there in a few minutes.¡± Suzanna took Danny downstairs, and Eric did his best to act disinterested in the world around him. He wondered if the were any hamburgers in his near future. Not that it was important, but he couldn¡¯t get the flavor out of his mind. Suzanna buckled him in to the back of the car, then walked around the other side and did the same to herself. There wasn¡¯t much conversation during the long ride. Eric had been completely overwhelmed during his first drive. This time, armed with more knowledge, he was able to take some of it in. The sheer number of cars, people, even the traffic lights fascinated him. He didn¡¯t look around, but looking forward gave him enough to see. So many times he wanted to turn his head to get a better look at something, but he resisted the impulse. Eric wasn¡¯t sure how much time had passed, but eventually Mrs. Bradsworth looked back at them and spoke. ¡°We should be there soon.¡± Eric was elated. Only yesterday they¡¯d been talking about how someone could create Thysandrika in such detail, and today they were meeting the man who had done it. That was fast. Very fast, which gave him a moment of pause. This chain of events was as unlikely as the rest of it. At first he thought Sheba was behind the series of coincidences that had changed his life so drastically since his first failed transition attempt, but he now saw that it wasn¡¯t enough of an explanation. How had Sheba known that George would touch Dahr? Did they have an arrangement? He didn¡¯t know and hadn¡¯t thought to ask. Even if he had, there¡¯s no guarantee she would tell him. It took a while to find parking when they got there, and then Suzanna got out of the car, released Eric¡¯s seat belt and helped him out. Mrs. Bradsworth was watching them with more intensity than usual, or at least it felt that way to Eric. He wanted to look around but instead kept his gaze focused on the house in front of him. It was a two story affair made of brown stone. It had the numbers 1892 carved into a metal plaque set beneath the center window. There was a small yard, but also a stairway going up to double doors with glass window panes in them. Mrs. Bradsworth walked up the stairs and pushed a button beside the door. Eric heard a chime, presumably alerting those inside the house that someone had come to visit. He waited patiently, as if he had another choice, until the door opened. A man stepped out. He was a large, tanned man with a shock of black hair that ran to the base of his neck. He wore glasses, which Eric had seen before, but not often. Two massive arms emerged from the sleeves of his button down shirt, making him look more like a warrior specializing in strength than a man who spent his days sitting at a computer. His green eyes displayed interest and curiosity. He studied both Suzanna and Danny before turning his attention to Mrs. Bradsworth. ¡°Ida, it¡¯s been too long.¡± ¡°It has. As I said on the phone, I noticed that Suzanna was playing The Undead Wars, and she wanted to meet you, so here we are.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t lie, it¡¯s a busy time, but I¡¯ll always make time for you.¡± ¡°Why so busy?¡± asked Suzanna. ¡°Our newest expansion launched a couple of weeks ago, and there¡¯s bug fixes going out, among other things. Keeping an MMO going is a never-ending process.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°Come in, all of you. We can talk about the game, and I can answer any questions you might have.¡± Suzanna smiled. ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯m going to find everything I learn today fascinating. * When Eric saw Nylus for the first time, Sheba controlled just over thirteen hundred avatars scattered across Thysandrika, each involved in a different activity. The moment Nylus stepped outside, every single one of her avatars froze, as if surprised. She called out telepathically. Io, share my sight. She felt Iorana join her, watching the scene through Danny¡¯s eyes. Iorana only looked for a second before speaking. Sylinar, share our sight. I¡¯m already here. After all these years, we¡¯ve finally found him. Sheba realized that Sylinar was watching from within Suzanna, who she apparently had tethered at some point. I don¡¯t think so, said Iorana. That is definitely Arimen. I know my own mate, daughter. You need to pay more attention to magical signatures. Most think they have no value. But if you alter your perception to include the signature, you will see that this is not the same Arimen. Not the same? Sheba shifted her perception as well and realized the man in front of her had been Arimen at one point but was now not¡ªnot exactly. His magical signature had somehow changed, which shouldn¡¯t be possible. How can this be? asked Sylinar. It can¡¯t, said Sheba. Dear sister, said Iorana. You are presented with evidence right before you, and yet you still refuse to acknowledge reality. Magical signatures can change, because that is Arimen¡¯s body, but it is not Arimen. You are looking at the Undead King. Sheba didn¡¯t respond. She was well aware that Iorana knew more than anyone about not only this situation, but magical signatures as well. So instead, she asked a question. I thought magical signatures had relatively little value. They¡¯re all unique aren¡¯t they? They are not all unique, though the vast majority of them are. All of Sylinar¡¯s children with Arimen share the same signature, which is a combination of Arimen¡¯s and Sylinar¡¯s. We contain aspects of both. For all that you argue with Sarith, you and she are identical on the magical level. Not exactly the best news I¡¯ve had today, but please continue. While I was researching the Undead King, I entered the Plains of Xarinos myself. You did? asked Sylinar. Whatever possessed you to take that risk? We¡¯ll get to that later. When I viewed the creatures that lived there, I realized that every single undead creature, human or otherwise, had an addendum to the end of their magical signature. Their signature hadn¡¯t changed, but an extension had been added. Each of their signatures changed in exactly the same way, as if the Undead King had been signing his work. If that¡¯s the case, said Sylinar, there is a way to positively identify the reborn. Why haven¡¯t you told us? Because it¡¯s not foolproof. While it¡¯s true that every single reborn¡¯s signature ends the same way, they are not the only ones. I¡¯ve found many individuals who bear the same pattern at the end of their magical signature, that not only have no relationship to the Undead King, but didn¡¯t even fight in the war. This is most troubling, said Sylinar. I have much to consider. And she was gone from the conversation. Sheba would have frowned had she been in a body. I have a feeling there is more you¡¯re not telling us. That should go without saying. This entire matter falls under my jurisdiction. You know that. Of course. It¡¯s why I¡¯ve been cooperative. The compact is sacrosanct. None of us would break it, intentionally at least. That may or may not be true. I do believe, however, that you will keep to the letter of the law, if not the spirit. What do you mean? You know what I mean. Because I leveled the young royals so quickly? You should understand why I had to. Is this going to be a problem? Not for me, at least. I can¡¯t speak for any of the others. If they have an issue, let them confront me. I¡¯m more than capable of defending my actions. I have no doubt. And now, it is time for me to go. Look, they¡¯re going inside. You should pay attention. I¡¯m sure what you find will be educational. What is it you¡¯re not telling me? That would be a very long list. Before Sheba could reply, Iorana was gone, leaving the goddess of honor alone with a series of questions she hadn¡¯t possessed a few minutes earlier. Chapter 29 - The Departure
It is hard to say goodbye. It¡¯s even harder being separated when you haven¡¯t been given that opportunity. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Nineteenth of Learning 1142/October 6th, 2023 Prince Eric of Twyl had had a thorough and varied education. He¡¯d been taught history, geography, how to defend himself, science, even a bit about how magic functioned. And he was well-read, partly because his parents encouraged him to be, but mostly because he liked learning new things. He could discuss any number of topics with a fluency that most adults couldn¡¯t match. Periodically, he came across a concept that impacted his entire thought process and restructured it in such a way
that everything he knew had to be reconsidered. Learning that his entire world was just a video game on Earth was one of those concepts. It was hard to understand how Earth and Thysandrika were connected. Was his world a reflection of what had been in the game? The game was only a few years old. Did that mean his world was a few years old as well? What about its long and detailed history? Had he been studying a history that had never occurred? Or had the game been created by someone living on Earth, who had traveled to his world and learned about it. Maybe there was another Thysandrikan like him, who entered the body of someone who lived on Earth when they dreamt. He hoped that was the case, because he could deal with that. Eric understood the process because it was happening to him. He needed answers, because not having them was driving him mad. In an effort to understand the situation, Suzanna had somehow gotten Mrs. Bradsworth, the mother of the body he currently inhabited, to contact Nylus, the lead developer of the game. Because Mrs. Bradsworth had invested in The Undead Wars, she was able to arrange the meeting, and the three of them, Mrs. Bradsworth, Suzanna and Eric (in Danny¡¯s body) had taken a long drive south to Brooklyn, wherever that was. Danny sat on a black leather sofa besides Suzanna, while Eric watched from within. An expensive looking table with a glass top sat in front of them and beyond, in two matching leather chairs, sat Mrs. Bradsworth and the man they had come to see. With all that had happened to him in the last month, Eric found it difficult to be surprised. It was yet another insane happening floating in a sea of improbability. Mrs. Bradsworth and Nylus were chatting amiably as if they were old friends. The conversation was banal, meaningless. Eric wished they would get past the pleasantries so he could get some answers, but he was also aware that polite conversation had to be endured before important matters were discussed. He¡¯d seen it often enough in the throne room. Eventually, the conversation wound down, and Nylus turned his attention to Suzanna. ¡°So, I understand you play The Undead Wars.¡± ¡°I only just started but love it so far. The world seems so real to me.¡± Nylus studied her, tilted his head then nodded to himself as if he had come to some sort of decision. ¡°Would you like to see where the magic happens?¡± Eric almost reacted to that, but forced himself to stillness at the last moment. He had been told that magic didn¡¯t exist on Earth, but he couldn¡¯t ask about it at the present moment, so he continued to stare straight ahead, because that¡¯s what Danny would do. ¡°Oh yes, I¡¯d love that.¡± They stood and walked out of the room into a foyer. Nylus opened a door, behind which was a flight of wooden stairs that descended into a fully furnished basement. There were chairs, a coffee table, and several large consoles that Eric would have recognized as classic video games had he been born on Earth. Opposite the consoles, at the other end of the room, stood a large, curved desk and numerous devices which Eric could only assume were some sort of computers. A pair of enormous double doors adorned the right wall. They looked completely out of place and would have seemed more at home in a larger structure, like a barn. No one commented on them, and Eric wondered if it was a common feature in Earth houses. ¡°I was working on fixing some of the bugs in the code in our newest expansion,¡± said Nylus. ¡°Oh?¡± asked Suzanna. ¡°Yes, if you¡¯ve just started you won¡¯t get to it for a while, because the new expansion is predominantly centered around higher level content, particularly dungeons.¡± Eric almost reacted again, biting his lower lip to prevent himself from gasping. Fortunately, no one was paying attention to him. The new expansion explained a lot. Dungeons had appeared on Thysandrika, at least two that they knew of, apparently on the same day. He¡¯d never have known about them if they hadn¡¯t been mentioned at the dinner with the Misfits of Karmenon on the night of his wedding. Dungeons had always been ancient constructs. New ones were discovered rather than constructed, mostly because the skill to create one had been lost to time. But these dungeons seemingly came from the game itself. Once again, Eric found himself wondering if the rest of his world had simply been a Nylus creation all along. ¡°That¡¯s awesome!¡± said Suzanna, warming to her role. ¡°I thought you might like that,¡± said Nylus. ¡°Tell me, what god did you pick to tether to?¡± ¡°Sylinar,¡± answered Suzanna. Nylus nodded. ¡°Not surprising. Sylinar is the goddess of healing, and I understand that you¡¯re a nurse. It¡¯s a logical choice.¡± Nylus took a seat in the computer chair in front of the main monitor, which was larger than the others, and typed something into a keyboard. He had been in the middle of one of the areas of the game that Eric hadn¡¯t yet seen, which made sense since he¡¯d barely seen any of it. As Eric watched, a zombie made its way clumsily down a long stone corridor. It didn¡¯t look like a real zombie. It was scary-looking enough, but couldn¡¯t compare to what Eric had faced in the Other Realm. ¡°Zombie?¡± asked Suzanna. ¡°Yes, the weakest undead in this particular dungeon. This is the hardest dungeon in the game right now, located in one of the highest level zones. Obviously zombies are just trash mobs, but some really hard bosses can be found here.¡± Eric would have blanched if he were wearing his own body. He wanted to ask specifically where this dungeon was located, because powerful undead bosses sounded really bad. Nylus¡¯ character made short work of several undead creatures, continuing down the corridor until it turned left and the tunnel opened up into a huge chamber. Eric, staring straight ahead, didn¡¯t get the best look at it, but it looked like a mage¡¯s ritual room, or at least what he thought one might look like. There were ritual circles, and various types of magical apparatus he couldn¡¯t name, and in the center of the room was the largest undead creature he¡¯d ever seen. It was at least a couple of stories high, making him wonder how it had gotten into the room in the first place. On closer inspection, he realized that it was assembled from body parts to form a much larger creature. Not all of those parts were human, but some were. It seemed to have a dragon¡¯s body, from which jutted long spindly legs made up of various human limbs. It¡¯s very long neck seemed to be assembled from human thighs, attached end to end. Balanced precariously on top was a reptilian head that hadn¡¯t completely finished the process of decaying. It was the most terrifying thing Eric had ever seen. He couldn¡¯t begin to imagine what meeting one in real life would be like. That it might happen at some point chilled him to the bone. ¡°Meet my favorite boss, a demon lord who calls himself The Hunger. He has some diabolical attacks. My favorite part of the fight is when he shrinks down in size so he can leave the room and move into other areas. The fight takes place in several locations.¡± ¡°That sounds awesome,¡± said Suzanna, staring at the creature in fascination. ¡°I¡¯m curious,¡± said Nylus, ¡°when did you learn that Thysandrika is real?¡± Suzanna tried to hide her surprise, but Eric knew that her reaction had given her away. She tried to recover, but it was an exercize in futility. However Nylus responded, he knew what he needed to. ¡°And what about you, Danny. Do you also know that Thysandrika is real?¡± Eric didn¡¯t answer. To his surprise, it was Mrs. Bradsworth who spoke next. ¡°How long did you think you could hide it from me, Suzanna?¡± ¡°Hide what?¡± ¡°Danny is talking. Why would you keep something like that from me?¡± Suzanna met the older woman¡¯s glare but didn¡¯t answer. ¡°Are you going to pretend that you don¡¯t know what I¡¯m talking about?¡± Nylus caught Mrs. Bradsworth¡¯s attention and shook his head. Though she had been about to say something else, she clamped her mouth shut. That was interesting. Apparently, Nylus was running this show. ¡°Suzanna, you can¡¯t hide your class from me. Your class and level are burned into your soul. Anyone who can read souls can see it.¡± It took all of Eric¡¯s self-control to not react to that. Class? Level? How could she have either? ¡°And you can read souls,¡± said Suzanna. ¡°Yes.¡± A simple answer. No subterfuge. No attempt to disassemble. Eric wondered who this man was, and how he had gotten to Earth. ¡°You¡¯ve been there, then,¡± said Suzanna. ¡°Oh yes. I lived there for a very long time. Tell me what you want from me.¡± ¡°Nothing, really. I was just wondering how a video game could show another world in such detail. I guess now I know.¡± ¡°Come off it. Who do you work for? What do you want?¡± ¡°Work for? I work for Mrs. Bradshaw. Mrs. Bradshaw couldn¡¯t let that go. ¡°You worked for me, you mean. You kept secrets from me. Important secrets. My son can speak.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mrs. Bradshaw, but he can¡¯t. He¡¯s never been able to.¡± ¡°Mindy told me she heard you and Danny speaking.¡± Suzanna looked like she was about to reply but stopped herself, as if she realized it wasn¡¯t her place to reveal Eric¡¯s existence. Yet keeping it a secret had gotten her in trouble. Had even cost her her job. She had been kind to him. Eric couldn¡¯t let her face this inquisition alone. ¡°Mrs. Bradsworth, though I am speaking with your son¡¯s mouth, I am not Danny.¡± Ida Bradsworth stared at him, eyes wide. ¡°Who are you then?¡± ¡°Consider me a passenger. I¡¯m from Thysandrika as well, and sometimes, when I sleep, I end up in Danny¡¯s body, but I don¡¯t know why.¡± To Eric¡¯s surprise a grin broke out on Nylus¡¯s face. ¡°Prince Eric, is that you?¡± ¡°What? How can you know that?¡± ¡°Oh, I know many things. But this is an unexpected surprise. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you. Yes, it makes sense.¡± ¡°What are you talking about?¡± asked Eric. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. What does matter is that neither Suzanna nor Danny can return to their old lives.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t let you harm Suzanna,¡± warned Eric. Nylus laughed. ¡°I¡¯d expect no less, but no. I would never knowingly harm a servant of Sylinar.¡± ¡°Then what will you do with her.¡± Nylus gestured and the double doors on the far wall of the room swung open. Behind it was a shimmering purple portal that seemed to glow with arcane energy. ¡°I thought magic doesn¡¯t exist on Earth,¡± said Eric. ¡°It¡¯s admittedly weak, but this close to the portal, there is enough bleed through to perform a few simple tricks.¡± He looked at Suzanna. ¡°You have a choice. Remain here in this house as my guest for the rest of your life or walk through that portal.¡± Suzanna stared at it. ¡°What about Danny?¡± ¡°Danny isn¡¯t capable of making that choice, so I¡¯ll leave that up to you.¡± ¡°How is this my choice? Danny is not my son.¡± ¡°Nor is he mine,¡± said Mrs. Bradsworth. ¡°What? But I saw his birth certificate.¡± ¡°You saw a birth certificate. Did you really think it would be hard for a person of my means to have one made?¡± ¡°And you¡¯re just willing to give him up?¡± ¡°Yes, if that is what Nylus requires of me. He is very much my king.¡± Suzanna looked stunned. The events of the day had long ago outpaced her ability to wrap her head around them. For a long time, she didn¡¯t speak. When she did, her voice was almost a whisper. ¡°Where will the portal take me?¡± ¡°To Thysandrika,¡± said Nylus, ¡°Do you want to see it?¡± Suzanna¡¯s face lit up, but only for a moment. ¡°I have daughters here. I can¡¯t abandon them.¡± ¡°I know this. But you¡¯re not allowed to see them either.¡± Suzanna looked surprised. ¡°How could you know that?¡± ¡°Is it relevant? I swear to you, I will make sure your daughters never want for anything. They will be safe from harm, and they will have all the resources they need to live long and healthy lives.¡± ¡°How do I know I can trust you?¡± Mrs. Bradsworth held up a hand. ¡°Suzanna, you may not know Nylus, but you know me. I swear to you, I will protect and care for your children as if they were my own, as long as you will care for Danny.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°I will. You know I will.¡± The grin on Nylus¡¯s face sent a shiver down Eric¡¯s spine, but he didn¡¯t interfere. This wasn¡¯t his choice. ¡°Yes, I do,¡± said Mrs. Bradsworth. Suzanna returned her attention to the portal. She stared at it as if hypnotized. ¡°How will I live there? I have no money. I don¡¯t know much about the world.¡± ¡°You will be well provided for, and have the freedom to go anywhere you want. This, at least, I can arrange.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°No. I have shared as much as I am willing to share.¡± ¡°Do I just walk through?¡± ¡°Yes. Take Danny¡¯s hand and enter the portal. The passage will be instantaneous.¡± Suzanna looked at Mrs. Bradsworth for perhaps the last time. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t tell you, Ida, but it was not my secret to share.¡± ¡°I understand, Suzanna. May Sylinar guide you.¡± She walked to Suzanna and hugged her, then stepped back. ¡°It¡¯s time to go,¡± said Nylus. ¡°Suzanna, are you sure about this?¡± asked Eric. ¡°I¡¯m not sure about anything. But I don¡¯t see we have a choice. Unless you think the two of us can overpower Nylus. We don¡¯t even know what powers he has. And he¡¯s right. I haven¡¯t seen my daughters in years. I don¡¯t even know what they look like. I¡¯ve done all I can for them. If stepping through that portal means that their financial future is guaranteed, that¡¯s more than I could ever give them. It would seem to be the best decision for them, whatever happens to me.¡± Suzanna went to take Danny¡¯s hand, but Eric walked to the portal of his own volition. She looked back once, and Mrs. Bradsworth smiled at her. Nylus¡¯s expression was unreadable. Before they stepped through, Eric had a question of his own. ¡°This portal. It¡¯s how you got here?¡± ¡°Yes, a very long time ago.¡± ¡°Fifty years?¡± asked Eric. ¡°How did you know?¡± asked Nylus. ¡°I didn¡¯t until this moment, but things are starting to make sense.¡± ¡°They are?¡± Eric nodded, but before Nylus could ask another question, he glanced at Suzanna and stepped into the portal. She entered only a second behind him. Both Suzanna and Eric vanished, leaving behind a frustrated lead programmer. ¡°Apparently, things have been moving faster than I¡¯d anticipated. As bad as the timing is, I might have to make a trip home.¡± ¡°Is everything all right?¡± asked Mrs. Bradsworth. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Nylus. ¡°But there are forces at work here I do not understand. And the information I need, I have to get for myself. And just when things had been going so well.¡± ¡°What do you wish of me?¡± ¡°Fulfill your promise to Suzanna and see to the future of her children. I¡¯m sure you can figure out a creative way to get that done.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°Good, then I need to tie up some loose ends here and take a much-needed vacation. I¡¯ll need you to look after things while I¡¯m gone.¡± ¡°Yes, My Lord. May I ask a question?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°This Prince Eric. Do you know him?¡± Nylus grinned. ¡°I do. I¡¯ve watched him grow up. I¡¯m quite proud of him actually. I have no idea how he knew when I¡¯d arrived here. Between him and his mother, I have quite a lot of investigating to do. It may be a while before I return.¡± ¡°How long do you think you¡¯ll be?¡± Nylus shrugged. ¡°As long as it takes. Go now, I have work to do.¡± With that dismissal, Mrs. Bradsworth bowed and left the basement. With the Undead King gone, she¡¯d have a lot on her plate, and she¡¯d have to find a way to explain Danny¡¯s absence to her staff. She sighed, then chuckled. If that was the price of being reborn, she could live with it. * Terrence was in the practice yard, a courtyard the guards used for training, hiding from those who might want to talk to him. Not his subjects, but the curious, who had come from further afield to get a look at or have a word with the high king. They were nobles or even lesser royalty, rich merchants, pretty much anyone who could afford to travel by chirkir. Terrence wondered how people had found out about his promotion so quickly. Most likely spies in the palace. He hated the idea that he couldn¡¯t trust the people surrounding him but had always known it was the case. Yet he tried to ignore the impulse to mistrust, believing it to be more damaging than the alternative. The gods had made such a show of his promotion, he couldn¡¯t believe that they wanted it kept secret, so he didn¡¯t complain. He didn¡¯t speak to all of them but granted audiences to a few, particularly the ones he thought he might be able to convince to aid the war effort. As he saw it, the biggest issues would be keeping everyone supplied and keeping everyone from killing each other. Not every country got along with every other. Another problem was leaving behind the smallest contingent of soldiers he could to defend Rish. He was taking most able-bodied men and woman to fight with him. The young would be left behind. The inexperienced. The foolish. He hoped he¡¯d have a kingdom to come back to. Of course, if he didn¡¯t win, it wouldn¡¯t matter. The only question would be how long it would take for those left behind to either submit to the Undead King or fall to him. He could imagine caravans of citizens being escorted back to Xarinos to be killed, only to come back as servants of the Undead King. The world would have a single ruler, who controlled everything. Terrence shuddered at the thought. He had to win. There was no choice. The sound of a throat clearing interrupted his reverie. ¡°Leata, how long have you been there?¡± ¡°A while. Lady Mere is doing quite well. I think she¡¯ll be a fine replacement for me.¡± Terrence smiled. ¡°I never thought I¡¯d hear those words. I¡¯ve been thinking about your protection on the road, and I¡¯ve come to a suitable arrangement.¡± ¡°Arrangement? I thought palace guards would protect me.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll be needed elsewhere. You¡¯ll be protected by a pair of very high-level Sarithan assassins.¡± Leata¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s wise?¡± ¡°Sheba thinks it is. She¡¯s the one that made the arrangement, so if you have issues with it, take it up with her.¡± Terrence winced, having answered more brusquely than he¡¯d intended. ¡°Sorry. There¡¯s a lot on my plate.¡± ¡°I know, Your Highness.¡± ¡°How are preparations coming?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll have to resupply along the way. We¡¯ll buy what we can, but there are problems.¡± ¡°Such as?¡± ¡°We can buy rations, but a lot of the places we¡¯ll be stopping at will be starting to stockpile food for the winter. They¡¯ll sell us everything they can, but they won¡¯t have enough left over to survive. At least not all of them.¡± Terrence frowned. ¡°I see. I¡¯m not sure what we can do about that.¡± Leata was about to respond, when a brilliant light illuminated the courtyard, even though the sun was already high in the sky. Leata shielded her eyes, but Terrence didn¡¯t seem to have to. To his surprise, Mitra stood before them, clad in the same brown dress she had worn when she¡¯d visited the throne room. ¡°Well met, High King Terrence¡­Leata.¡± Leata had started to kneel, but the goddess touched her arm briefly to indicate it wasn¡¯t necessary. ¡°You should let us know before you come by,¡± said King Terrence. ¡°If we keep meeting like this people will talk.¡± Leata¡¯s mouth dropped open, but Mitra just smiled politely. ¡°Do not worry, Leata. He is filled with god energy now. He is becoming more like us. Do not expect in him the humility that had once defined him. Those with god energy have less reason to be humble.¡± The goddess¡¯s words troubled Terrence. ¡°Isn¡¯t that when we need humility the most?¡± ¡°No, High King Terrence. This is not the time for humility. People need to follow you and start thinking of you as a god. There have been rumors since the war of your ascension. Now it¡¯s time to play the role.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind it, if it were just that. A role. But I feel myself changing.¡± ¡°You are, but that is a problem for another day. As for what you had been discussing, I have a solution.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± She held out her hand, palm up, and a small wooden flute appeared on top of it. ¡°I can entertain people instead of feeding them?¡± asked the king. ¡°You can use this instrument to create as much food as you need to feed your troops. You were told each of the gods would give you and Queen Treya a gift. Take it.¡± Terrence reached out and picked it up. It was light as a feather. ¡°I had forgotten.¡± Mitra chuckled. ¡°There are not many that would forget a promise of a gift from a god. And this is something that could be put to good use. It¡¯s a holy object, so you can¡¯t lose it. It can¡¯t be stolen from you. All you have to do is summon it. Different songs will provide different foods. Nothing fancy. No palace feasts here. But the food will be nourishing and should please most palates.¡± ¡°Thank you, Mitra.¡± ¡°You¡¯re quite welcome. It¡¯s fair to warn you, however, that this won¡¯t solve all your problems. It¡¯s unlikely, for example, to work in the Plains of Xarinos.¡± Terrence nodded. ¡°It still solves the problem of feeding the army until we get there, and for that, I thank you. One last question. How do I know what songs to play?¡± ¡°You will know when you try it. Farewell, High King Terrence. And good luck on your journey.¡± Then she was gone. ¡°You should try it now,¡± said Leata, ¡°to make sure you know how to use it.¡± Terrance nodded and put the flute to his mouth. A number of ¡°recipes¡± popped into his head. He did indeed know how to play it. He played the tune for bread and jam and, almost instantaneously, a table appeared near him, set for two, with a loaf of bread and a jar of jam on it. It was a full table setting that included silverware, plates, glasses and even a bottle of wine, which he hadn¡¯t asked for. Compliments of the house. Will it always produce the table and setting? It will adjust to the situation. It¡¯s not creating the food, I am. I assure you, I can figure out what¡¯s needed in most situations. Furthermore, once the meal is done, I¡¯ll reclaim the conjured items, so you won¡¯t leave behind a trail of furniture. This is¡­beyond anything I had dreamed of. Thank you again, goddess of lore. You are most welcome. I believe, by the time this is over, you will have more than earned it. * The world blurred as Striker ran, faster than she had ever run before. The grass expanded into streaks of green beneath her feet, as if each individual strand had been stretched into eternity. Everything seemed to have slowed down. A lilac butterfly, wings speckled with tiny black dots, fluttered in slow motion into her path and then out of her way. She¡¯d never experienced anything like this. Nearby Stalker, probably drawing energy from her, had kept pace the entire time. Head thrown back in ecstasy, she screamed with the pleasure of it. So much energy. So much power. The only time she¡¯d ever felt this good was after sex, and she hadn¡¯t had that since her tryst with Maynor, if you could call it that. Perhaps she could call it that, for it was fun for her. Maynor, however, had no clue it had happened, or perhaps he had been told about it later by people who hadn¡¯t been present to witness a coupling so primal, it probably looked like a life and death struggle. And for her, at least, it was. Striker had been used to locals¡ªmen and women without levels. The energy they produced wasn¡¯t like Maynor¡¯s. She had no idea what level he was, but the energy was divine, probably literally. She could go for some of that again, even if she didn¡¯t need it yet. She wondered how long it would last. She also wondered how long she¡¯d keep running north, when she was supposed to be heading south. Her mind kept telling her she was going the wrong way, but her body wasn¡¯t listening. North, ever north. Toward Karmenon most likely. Admittedly that was still a long way away, many days at the speed she was going. She¡¯d probably run out of energy before then and have to walk the rest of the way, if she didn¡¯t find a suitable partner to recharge herself. Usually, she cursed the fact that she had been reborn defective, but not this time. Nothing bothered her now. She was dead, free and happy, and had no idea why. The only real problem she had was that she was meant to be meeting Aisha, Eldiss and the princes in the Fellowship, but she was running in the wrong direction. Yet every time she had tried to go south, or east for that matter, she ended up running north. This wasn¡¯t the influence of the Undead King, she knew. She was being controlled by the entity that had leveled her, and had no idea how to stop running. ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked. As she didn¡¯t expect a reply, she wasn¡¯t disappointed. ¡°What gives you the right to control me this way?¡± Again nothing. She growled in frustration, amazed at how easily a good mood could go bad. ¡°I¡¯m going to stop running and turn around if you don¡¯t answer me.¡± No voice in her head. She screamed and threw herself into slowing her forward momentum. As if to make a point, she started running even faster. ¡°Dammit!¡± She ran for the rest of that day and all through the night. And then, shortly after dawn on the next day, she saw a number of dark shapes ahead, approaching fast. She wasn¡¯t sure what they were at first, but as they drew closer, she knew. Somehow, she knew. She didn¡¯t question the wisdom of charging into their midst. She didn¡¯t even try to slow down. And then they were all around her¡ªStalker¡¯s pack. They all came up and sniffed her, and a few rolled onto their backs to show submission. There were so many. ¡°How is this possible?¡± She felt a wave of energy flow through her and knew immediately that she was about to gain another level. This time, however, she only went up one. Congratulations! You have reached Beast Master Level 2 (Primary Level 11). New skill unlocked, Telepathy. The voice in her head was deep, melodic, mysterious, and definitely didn¡¯t belong to the Undead King or Sheba. What had she gotten herself into? Hi. Stalker? Is that you? Yes. This is my pack. They¡¯ve been running since I left them behind. It took them a long time to get this far, but like me, they belong to you. Do you know who provided this gift? No. But I can tell you when I started to change. It was the day I met the shadow man. He came to talk to me. To warn me off. I had never seen his like before, so I tried to touch him. The first two times, nothing happened, but the third time, there was something else there. It wasn¡¯t the shadow man. It didn¡¯t come from him. It was something powerful, mysterious, and it changed me. Even now, I continue to change. You change because I¡¯ve leveled, I think. I wish I knew who gave me these levels. I love that I have them, but I can¡¯t help but feel like there¡¯s a price for all of this. A price that I¡¯m eventually going to have to pay. We should probably try to head south if we¡¯re allowed to go that way. As it is, we¡¯re going to be very late. As you wish. Striker met no resistance when she tried to head south, so she started running again. She had a long way to go. But she looked at the pack running around her and smiled. For as long as she could remember, she had been trying to find a place to belong. With the Misfits of Karmenon, she had thought she¡¯d found one, but she knew now that had been wishful thinking. But these kreve, they were hers. Her pack. After all the years of searching and all the ground covered, Striker had finally come home. * Terrence stood in the portal room of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild in Rish. The whiteness of the walls and floor were broken only by the gray stone-like chirkir which made its home in the room¡¯s center. Terrence had been here before to meet foreign dignitaries, but he¡¯d never thought to speak to the chirkir, even though he understood that some people had. He had no idea of the polite way to address a chirkir, so he took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and spoke. ¡°Hello.¡± Greetings High King Terrence. You have returned. Was the chirkir referring to the other times he¡¯d been here? He didn¡¯t know. However, first things first. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to address you.¡± It hardly matters. What matters is that you have come, and we have much to talk about. While you build your armies and prepare for war, other events are afoot. You can¡¯t stop them and shouldn¡¯t try. But you must begin your march before the end of Learning. ¡°That¡¯s not enough time.¡± It is exactly enough time, since I know the date of your departure. But there are other things that concern you as well. ¡°Such as?¡± You are concerned about the mage, Lord Ormund. You think he will not awaken, but he will, when the time is right. ¡°I betrayed his trust.¡± I¡¯m sure you believe that. Would it help if I told you it was untrue? ¡°No. I know what I¡¯ve done.¡± And yet so much is not what it seems. By the time this month ends, Queen Treya will have healed two more veterans of the Undead War of their soul wounds, and the Undead King will return to Thysandrika. ¡°How can the Undead King return to Thysandrika.¡± The Undead King has been away for a very long time. Since long before the Undead War. Prince Eric has precipitated his return. ¡°How?¡± By knowing things he could not possibly know. There are too many things the Undead King does not understand, and so he must return to learn what is going on. ¡°Will he attack Death¡¯s Doorstep?¡± His army will not move from the Plains of Xarinos until you arrive. King Terrence sighed relief. If the chirkir spoke the truth, they would get there in time, as long as he left by the end of the month. ¡°May I ask a question?¡± Of course. ¡°George¡¯s Prophecy about Dahr ending the undead threat. Is it true?¡± Merck Vanderoth intentionally misquoted the prophecy. Dahr will not end the Undead Threat. Terrence looked surprised. ¡°What is the true Prophecy?¡± There isn¡¯t one. George lied to Merck Vanderoth. ¡°Why would he do this?¡± George is a creature of chaos. What would you expect him to do? King Terrence felt his anger rising. ¡°He intentionally put my sons in danger for fun?¡± George has no concept of danger. He believes that whatever happens, he can protect Dahr. ¡°We¡¯ve been chasing a false prophecy since the beginning. George has a lot to answer for.¡± Will you make a creature that roamed the other realm before the gods appeared pay? Terrence sighed. ¡°No. Of course not. I just wish I could get word to them somehow.¡± There is no need. Even George doesn¡¯t know why he did what he did, but the ultimate result of that false prophecy is exactly what had to happen for destiny to be fulfilled. ¡°You mean that he lied, but that lie still serves a purpose?¡± I do. Terrence frowned, trying to think of something else to ask. When nothing specific came to mind, he broadened the scope of his questioning. ¡°Is there anything else I need to know?¡± Only this. The Undead King is not who or what you think he is. But by the time you learn this, it will be too late. ¡°Can¡¯t you tell me who he is?¡± I cannot. History must proceed apace. I can only offer what I have already offered, as I have ever done. ¡°Then why tell me at all?¡± For the same reasons I can¡¯t tell you more. This conversation has taken place countless times. If I alter it, what must happen might not happen. ¡°I don¡¯t actually understand that, but I¡¯d like to thank you for the information you¡¯ve given me. I appreciate it.¡± Most people are frustrated after talking to me. ¡°Most people aren¡¯t married to Treya.¡± It would be strange if they were. ¡°Yes, I suppose it would. Thank you again. If I¡¯m to make my deadline, I should be going.¡± King Terrence bowed and left the room. Two weeks to get his army moving, and still so much to do. Well, if it had to be, it had to be. Sheba never told him it would be easy. As he walked from the room, the chirkir contacted Iorana, the goddess of magic. King Terrence has been here and is now gone. It is time for you to call the meeting. Iorana did not respond, nor would she. But she would do what was necessary for the future to unfold, as she always had. The chirkir did not know how it would end. They never knew. They could not see their own fate, but that hardly mattered. Nothing mattered to the chirkir except the final realization of that fate. And if humanity had to perish for that future to unfold, that was an acceptable outcome. * Suzanna and Danny stepped out of the portal at the same moment. For a few seconds, she felt dizzy and fell to one knee. She closed her eyes and when she opened them, she was almost eye to eye with Danny. She looked him over to see if he has suffered the same side effects. ¡°Are you all right?¡± asked Eric. She kept looking at his face, finding comfort in the familiar. She was on another world. Thysandrika, Eric had called it. She almost didn¡¯t want to look up. She had no idea what marvels awaited her. What mystery. What magic. She held her breath as she pushed herself to her feet and, for the first time, turned to look upon a world other than Earth. For a long time, she remained silent, taking it all in. When she finally spoke, her voice was tinged with disappointment. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me you had Starbucks here.¡± Eric looked confused. ¡°What¡¯s a starbucks?¡± Chapter 30 - Out of Nowhere
We are all trapped in our peculiar realities. Every time I start to feel sorry for myself, I remind myself that, though my situation is unique, it doesn¡¯t mean that I¡¯m alone in my struggles. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Nineteenth ¨C Twentieth of Learning 1142 Suzanna looked around the coffee shop, which looked suspiciously like a Starbucks, even though she had entered a magical portal into a completely different world. Beside her stood Danny, a disabled young man currently inhabited by Prince Eric of Twyl. Danny couldn¡¯t communicate at all, except for the times when Prince Eric took over his body.
Suzanna had made a deal with the lead programmer of an MMORPG called The Undead Wars, a computer game based on a real world. For reasons she didn¡¯t understand, he lived in Park Slope and had a portal to Thysandrika in his basement. And he had given her a choice. Leave her daughters and the Earth behind, or remain a prisoner in his house. It wasn¡¯t a hard choice. She hadn¡¯t been allowed to see her daughters anyway, and they wouldn¡¯t recognize her if they¡¯d bumped into her on the street. The oldest would be almost ten now. And if she were to remain a prisoner, she wouldn¡¯t end up being able to send money to their foster parents, so there was no point in staying on Earth. Not when there was an amazing fantasy world just a portal away. No, it hadn¡¯t been a difficult choice. How had a portal ended up in Brooklyn in the first place, and why did more people not know about it? In the past few days, her entire world view had been rewritten, and she was completely unequipped to deal with it. It was a good thing she was in shock, or she¡¯d shut down completely. The surprises didn¡¯t end there. She¡¯d walked through a portal on Earth into another world, only to find herself in the last place she¡¯d expected to end up in¡ªa coffee shop. Behind the counter stood a man who¡¯d have been completely at home in a New York Coffee Bar. He had thinning brown hair, a neatly trimmed goatee and wore jeans and an Undead Wars t-shirt. ¡°Can I get you something?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m a bit confused,¡± she said. ¡°Can you tell me where we are?¡± ¡°Oh sure. You¡¯re in the Plains of Xarinos in a coffee shop loosely based on Starbucks. I¡¯m Ted by the way. And we don¡¯t call it Starbucks, because we don¡¯t want to be sued.¡± He grinned as if to indicate that he knew how ludicrous the statement was. ¡°What¡¯s it called then?¡± ¡°The Coffee Shop. Not very creative, but it¡¯s hardly like you can look us up on google. You¡¯re in what amounts to an orientation village. It helps people from Thysandrika acclimatize to Earth and vice versa. It¡¯s mostly people coming from Thysandrika, so it made sense to build an Earth town. There¡¯s plenty of Earth businesses here, or at least facsimiles of them. We¡¯re here to help people figure things out.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Are you from Earth?¡± asked Eric. ¡°I am. From Brooklyn. I¡¯m Nylus¡¯s favorite barista. He offered me employment, and I took it. When he originally told me it involved travel, I thought I¡¯d have a chance to see the world. Little did I know.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what a barista is.¡± ¡°I specialize in preparing coffee.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what coffee is, but I suppose I have time to find out. How long have you been here?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been working for the company for a couple of years now. Nylus told me he could stop me from aging and cure my arthritis. The price was never going home again. Seemed like a good deal. So I stay here, and make coffee for the people who pass through.¡± ¡°Do a lot of people come this way?¡± ¡°Not really. Anyway, I can answer any questions you might have.¡± Suzanna was stumped. She wanted to know so much that she couldn¡¯t think of anything to ask. Eric, however, seemed to be doing fine in that area. ¡°Are you reborn?¡± ¡°I am. I came through the portal, got myself killed and came back as you see me.¡± ¡°Wait, you¡¯re undead?¡± asked Suzanna. ¡°I¡¯m reborn. It¡¯s a bit different from being undead. But I want to stress it was completely voluntary. I knew what I was getting myself into. We all do.¡± ¡°What do you mean we all do?¡± asked Suzanna. ¡°Nylus has been on Earth for about fifty years¡­maybe a bit more. He started building his empire by offering rich and influential people eternal life. Most didn¡¯t believe him, of course, but after coming through the portal and seeing his power, they were ready to believe anything. ¡°They watched a few people come back to life and signed on themselves. Then they returned to their lives on Earth and worked with Nylus to form the company. I have no idea how much power or influence he¡¯s accrued during this time, but it¡¯s surely substantial.¡± ¡°Do you know what his goal is?¡± asked Suzanna. ¡°Right now, he wants to make games. Loves programming he does. Completely addicted to it. And he adores coffee, which is why he made me an offer. I must say, you¡¯re taking this better than most people.¡± Suzanna didn¡¯t answer, but Eric did. ¡°I was born here, admittedly in a different body. I¡¯ve never been in the Plains of Xarinos before, but I¡¯m not surprised I ended up here.¡± ¡°That sounds like a very strange story,¡± said Ted. ¡°And you never answered my question.¡± ¡°What question is that?¡± asked Suzanna. ¡°I asked if I could get you something.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± she laughed. ¡°Two tall cappuccinos, please.¡± ¡°Coming right up.¡± ¡°If I asked what that was,¡± asked Eric, ¡°would I regret it?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so. It¡¯s just a hot drink we enjoy on Earth. You don¡¯t have coffee here?¡± ¡°Not that I know of.¡± Suzanna blanched. ¡°I wish I¡¯d thought to ask that question before stepping through the portal. She sat down at a table near the counter, while Eric walked around examining everything. Ted even let him behind the bar to see the coffee maker up close. Suzanna recognized it as an espresso machine, but of course, Eric wouldn¡¯t have ever seen anything like it. She watched his amazement with amusement. They¡¯d just been through a portal from Earth to another world, but he seemed fascinated by a home appliance. Eric watched Ted make the coffees, then followed him back to the table. He sat across from Suzanna, while Ted placed a large white mug in front of each of them. Suzanna took a sip and smiled happily. Eric looked at his suspiciously, then lifted it up and sniffed. Shrugging, he took a swallow. ¡°Okay. That¡¯s revolting.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll probably want to add sugar.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to have hamburgers here, would you?¡± asked Eric. She laughed and was about to comment, when the door opened and a skeleton walked in. Mentally, Suzanna had understood that the reborn were some form of undead, but the shock of actually seeing what this meant left her speechless. She stared wide-eyed as the skeleton nodded to Ted and approached their table. Eric turned to see what she was looking at and jumped out of his seat. ¡°Calm down, Prince Eric,¡± said the newcomer. ¡°There¡¯s no cause for alarm.¡± Eric nodded, but never took his eyes from the creature and didn¡¯t seem to relax. ¡°I¡¯m here to facilitate Suzanna¡¯s introduction to Thysandrika and also to answer any questions that either of you have.¡± Suzanna, still staring, reached for her coffee. Her hand shook as she brought the mug to her lips. ¡°I¡¯d join you,¡± said the skeleton, ¡°but coffee goes right through me.¡± Suzanna had just taken a swallow, but it sprayed from her mouth and nose. A glance at Eric told her he didn¡¯t get the joke, which wasn¡¯t entirely unexpected. ¡°I didn¡¯t know there were any reborn like you,¡± said Eric. ¡°I thought most of them looked like people.¡± ¡°Most of us do. I¡¯m a special project. You can call me Bones, by the way.¡± ¡°How are you talking?¡± asked Suzanna. ¡°It¡¯s magic,¡± he replied. ¡°Oh, right. Magic.¡± Eric retook his seat, but his eyes never left the skeleton. ¡°This is a lot to take in,¡± he said. ¡°Undoubtedly. That¡¯s why there¡¯s an orientation. But you have it easy, Prince Eric. Imagine how people from Earth feel¡ªthose who don¡¯t believe in magic at all. I was created, at least in part, to make it clear that newcomers to Thysandrika aren¡¯t on Earth anymore.¡± ¡°Are you from Earth originally?¡± asked Eric. ¡°I am. I was a chiropractor.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what that is.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a medical specialist that focuses on the relationship between the body¡¯s skeletal structure and nervous system. Most commonly we help people with back and neck pain, headaches, that sort of thing, but it¡¯s really much more than that.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯re a healer.¡± ¡°I like to think so, yes.¡± ¡°What happens now?¡± asked Suzanna. ¡°I show you to your house, and you can get yourselves settled in. If you need anything, don¡¯t hesitate to ask. Any of the teachers that work here will be happy to help you get it, or at least tell you where to get it.¡± Suzanna looked at Eric, and he nodded. She took another few gulps of coffee but didn¡¯t taste it. There was too much going on, and she really wanted to see more of the orientation village. They followed Bones outside, and found themselves in what seemed to be a scaled down version of a small New York neighborhood. There were shops of every kind on the main road and houses down a few side streets. Just from where they stood, she could see an electronics store, a tobacconist, a stationary store, a newsstand, and what looked like an Italian restaurant. ¡°Over 200 people live in Orientation Village full time,¡± said Bones. ¡°We have everything here¡ªstores that sell clothes, restaurants, even a movie theater and a gym. All the comforts of home. Some of us were born on Earth, but most of the people living here are Thysandrika born reborn.¡± ¡°How many Earth reborn are there?¡± asked Suzanna. ¡°A fair few,¡± said Bones. ¡°Remember, Nylus has been doing this for decades. He¡¯s built up quite the following.¡± The fact that many who lived on Earth were reborn disturbed Suzanna. But making games seemed innocent enough. Still, Nylus had given her an ultimatum that had upended her life. Exile or captivity¡ªit hadn¡¯t been much of a choice. And yet, she had wanted to see another world. She had wanted to see magic. And then, less than an hour after that decision had been made, she was walking down the street in the Plains of Xarinos with a skeleton. Nylus had seemed nice enough, but he had unilaterally made a decision that had rewritten her future. Whether it worked out for her or not, that wasn¡¯t okay. This went beyond merely protecting an investment. Nylus was building an organization of rich people who didn¡¯t die. To what end? Surely he didn¡¯t need that sort of support to make games, though what his other goals were, she couldn¡¯t begin to guess. Still, there was nothing she could do about it. She was only first level, after all. So, learn what she could and deal with what comes up as best she could. Pretty much how she lived her life. ¡°How is this place powered?¡± ¡°We have our own generator, but we also have a solar farm nearby. Don¡¯t ask me how we got everything here through the portal in Nylus¡¯s basement, because I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be hard,¡± said Eric. ¡°Dimensional magic, the way they make backpacks that are bigger on the inside than they are on the outside could do it, obviously on a larger scale. It makes it easier to transport large items over a long distance.¡± The skeleton stopped walking. ¡°Absolutely fascinating. I shall have to do some research. Anyway, we have computers, but we don¡¯t have the Internet, for obvious reasons. However, we do have a very large streaming library you can access should you want some entertainment. It¡¯ll give Prince Eric something to do while you attend classes, Suzanna.¡± They continued down the main street and then turned right onto one of the side streets. Suzanna marveled at the setup. It reminded her of the World Showcase in Disney World, where miniature versions of countries were set up around a lagoon. When you were in any of them, you might feel for a moment that you were actually in that country. She had only been to Disney World once, but the World Showcase had been one of her favorite things, since she¡¯d never had the opportunity to travel. The Orientation Village, while standing in the middle of it, made you feel like you were in New York City, or at least one of the outer boroughs. She¡¯d seen areas of both Brooklyn and Queens that looked like this. At the edge of the area, however, easily visible from where they walked, were rocky badlands that stretched as far as the eye could see. The Plains of Xarinos and, presumably, their undead hoards. The place that had invaded Death¡¯s Doorstep some fifteen years earlier. And she was here. The houses looked nice at least. They reminded her of the copy and paste housing developments that were springing up all over the suburbs. No house was unique. Nothing stood out. They were painted in pastel colors, chiefly sky blue and lemon yellow, but a few others sported shades of lavender. Every house looked like it was part of a matched set. All with perfectly manicured lawns and a couple of small trees in diminutive front yards. It seemed surreal to Suzanna, like Hollywood¡¯s interpretation of suburbia, so much so that she felt she was on a film set rather than in an actual neighborhood. The only stereotype missing was a white picket fence. Maybe they could get a dog. Bones stopped at the third house on the left side of the street. There was a mailbox on a post in front of it sporting the number five. ¡°This place is yours for as long as you want it. It has all the comforts of home. Your address is Five Old Soul Road, in case you get lost.¡± ¡°Old Soul Road?¡± asked Suzanna. ¡°That¡¯s an odd name for a street.¡± ¡°Not here,¡± said Bones. ¡°This area was designed to mix Earth culture and Thysandrikan culture, so you¡¯ll see a bit of both. Not in the houses so much, but in what you learn and how things are called at least. You two should get some rest. Classes begin tomorrow.¡± Bones bowed to them and walked away back toward the center of town. Eric shrugged and started walking down the path that led to the front door. Suzanna followed. This was all going to take some getting used to. * After exploring the house, Eric and Suzanna ended up in the sitting room. Suzanna plopped down on the couch. ¡°This is like the set for an eighties sitcom,¡± she said, laughing. Eric shrugged. ¡°You know I have no idea what that is.¡± ¡°You have no idea how much I envy you.¡± Eric looked around. The sofa looked plush, and Suzanna seemed comfortable enough. He¡¯d run his hand over it earlier, and it felt soft against his skin. It was cream-colored, matching the rug. The only other place to sit in the room was a comfortable black leather chair that reminded Eric of a throne. There was also a glass-topped table in front of the sofa and two small wooden tables on either end. The only thing missing was a television. Suzanna sat on the couch, feet curled beneath her, while Eric chose the chair. This was the first chance they¡¯d had to talk since he¡¯d woken up in Danny¡¯s body that morning. First they had been in a car with Mrs. Bradsworth and the chauffeur, then at Nylus¡¯s house and then in the coffee shop. This was hard enough for Eric, but for Suzanna, it surely changed her life. A life Eric knew very little about. It was time to remedy that situation. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you had children.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± said Suzanna, immediately dropping her gaze. ¡°I don¡¯t really. Not anymore.¡± ¡°Would you like to tell me about it?¡± Suzanna looked around the room as if searching for an escape route. Then she sighed and settled back onto the sofa. Her brown eyes found his, and she nodded once. When she spoke, it was little more than a whisper.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°I don¡¯t like talking about it. I haven¡¯t told anyone. It¡¯s deeply personal, and it¡¯s embarrassing. But we¡¯re linked, you and I. Danny has been my life for years now, and you¡¯re part of him, at least in my mind. It¡¯s the only way I know you. And if you¡¯re going to continue to visit Danny when you sleep, it means you and I will be spending a lot of time together. You¡¯re entitled to know the kind of person you¡¯re dealing with. That said, it¡¯s a common enough story. I¡¯m just another girl from a broken home, who tried to escape and picked the wrong man to help her. I made mistakes. I hurt people and was hurt in turn. In the end, I turned my life around, but there was a time not that long ago when I had given up altogether.¡± ¡°Tell me,¡± said Eric. Suzanna looked hesitant at first. She tensed then relaxed. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t think less of me when you hear what I have to say.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think I will. Even if what you did in the past was wrong, we¡¯ve all made mistakes. What you did doesn¡¯t matter as much as what you do now. Anyway, as Old Man Marko once said, you should never get on the wrong side of a healer. You never know when you¡¯re going to need one.¡± He favored her with a tentative smile, and she laughed, which is all he had wanted. ¡°I came from money. I wouldn¡¯t call my parents rich, but they were well to do¡ªat first. I was spoiled when I was young. My mother doted on me. My father bought me lots of toys and gifts. He paid attention to me, even though he worked a lot. But I knew I was loved, and that¡¯s the most important thing to a child. ¡°I was still young when money got tight. There weren¡¯t quite as many gifts. My mother was far more stressed and had less energy to pay attention to me. I didn¡¯t really understand what was going on until much later, but it turned out that my father had developed a gambling problem. At first he hid it from my mother, but I guess she found out about it at some point. They started fighting more and more. She kept threatening to leave him and take me, usually when she thought I wasn¡¯t listening. He¡¯d apologize and beg for her to stay, but he kept gambling. He ended up embezzling money from the company he worked for, got himself fired, and fled before the police came to arrest him. I never saw him again ¡°I must have been eleven or twelve at the time. My mother tried for a while, but it was hard. We lost the house. We weren¡¯t getting along, a portion of which was my fault. I was the typical rebellious teenager, and she was a woman who¡¯d given up on life. ¡°I didn¡¯t understand how a woman could be brought to that. She wasn¡¯t stupid. She was pretty enough. She could have had another relationship, found some happiness, but she never managed it. I saw it as her failure, and certainly saw her as failing me. I spent less time at home, started hanging out with friends, drinking and partying. I didn¡¯t realize just how much I had been adding to her pain.¡± She looked at Eric as if to see if he was following. He never took his eyes off her, but he didn¡¯t say anything. ¡°That¡¯s when I met Charles. Everyone called him Charlie, but not me. He was always Charles to me. He was older and had money. I never asked myself why a successful older man would be interested in a young woman like me. I thought he loved me. Maybe he did. I never really figured it out, even after all this time. Even if he did, Charles wasn¡¯t a good person. He liked to control things. He liked to control me. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize it at first. I wasn¡¯t old enough to see the patterns. I didn¡¯t listen to other people when they warned me. I didn¡¯t even know he was married at first, and by the time I did, he was all that mattered to me. Does that sound terrible?¡± Eric looked sympathetic but never answered the question. ¡°Where did you meet him?¡± ¡°At a bar. A friend stood me up, and he was there. We spent a few hours talking and drinking. I let him take me to a nearby hotel, where we spent the night. I had thought it would be a one night stand. I didn¡¯t expect a relationship. I wasn¡¯t looking for one. But Charles knew all the right buttons to push and, though I didn¡¯t realize it at the time, I really missed my father. He filled those shoes. I never had to worry when he was around. He would take care of everything. ¡°I fell in love. I didn¡¯t know much about him, but we¡¯d meet at the bar a couple of times a week and have sex. I was spending less time at home, fighting with my mom all the time, and eventually asked him if he¡¯d take me to his place. That¡¯s when I found out about his wife. But he said he was leaving her. That it had been over for a while. ¡°I didn¡¯t believe him. Guys always said stuff like that. Imagine my surprise when he followed through. He filed for divorce, got an apartment and invited me to move in with him. That¡¯s when he started to change. It didn¡¯t happen all at once, but he became moodier, got angry when I didn¡¯t do what he wanted, and you know, it was just easier to comply. I sat around and played video games while he went off to work and then we¡¯d go to the bar together at night, or stay home and watch a movie. Life wasn¡¯t bad, even if he did have a temper. ¡°It changed again when I got pregnant. He became protective of me. Even stopped getting as mad. He seemed happy. I think he always wanted kids. I was glad enough for the change in his mood that I didn¡¯t ask questions. ¡°Then I gave birth to Sandy. Sandra, you know, but I think of her as Sandy. She was so small. I don¡¯t think I¡¯d ever seen anything that small and helpless. So beautiful and so completely dependent. But no one had had to depend on me for a long time. I had always been the needy one. I hadn¡¯t been ready for motherhood. But I wanted to make Charles happy, so I tried. I tried so hard. And for a while, things were okay. ¡°He worked a lot, but he was a good father, and there was always money when the baby needed something. Time passed. I got pregnant again a couple of years later and had Lucy. I did the best I could, but I was still young and had been damaged by my upbringing. I wasn¡¯t always the best mother. ¡°Charles started spending nights away. He assured me that his absences were all job related, and I believed him¡ªat first. But he seemed more distant. More argumentative. Part of me wondered if he¡¯d met someone else. Someone he liked better. I tried asking him about it once, but he grew furious and walked out. He didn¡¯t come home that night. I didn¡¯t ask again. If he left me alone with the girls, I didn¡¯t know what I¡¯d do. I didn¡¯t know how I¡¯d survive. So I said nothing and did the best I could, even though I never felt it was good enough. ¡°Then one night, Charles came home with a black eye. He was in a terrible mood, like the old days. He didn¡¯t want to talk about it and, after a couple of tries, I stopped asking. I told myself that life wasn¡¯t that bad. Whatever this was, I could deal with it. Until the police came to arrest me.¡± ¡°Arrest you? For what?¡± ¡°Assault. He said I had attacked him. He had the injuries to prove it. Pictures. Witnesses even. I¡¯d never seen any of those people before. He must have been planning it for a while. He was issued an order of protection from me. He left me the apartment but took the girls. The judge was convinced that I was a danger to them. Looking back, I think he only was with me for the girls, but I didn¡¯t know it back then. I didn¡¯t understand anything about what was going on. I didn¡¯t understand why he¡¯d be like that. ¡°But he had money and, suddenly, I didn¡¯t. The courts took his side. I was prevented from seeing my daughters. The night he took them was the last time I saw them.¡± ¡°That¡¯s terrible. Was there nothing you could do?¡± ¡°Charles had done a pretty good job of convincing me I was a bad mother. I didn¡¯t fight hard enough to keep my girls, and by the time I¡¯d realized what he had done, it was too late. He died in a car accident several years later. His sister and her husband took the girls in. It¡¯s not like I was going to get custody with my record. And the girls wouldn¡¯t have known me by then. Hell, I didn¡¯t know me. ¡°His sister never had the kind of money Charles did. I think most of his money went to pay off debts and legal bills. There wasn¡¯t much left. His sister had never liked me in the first place, and she believed everything he¡¯d told her about me, whatever that was, so the one time I tried to contact her, she rebuffed me pretty hard. But I still sent her money when I could, because they¡¯re still my girls¡ªeven if I couldn¡¯t see them.¡± Eric wanted to cry. ¡°That¡¯s awful. How can something like that happen?¡± ¡°It happens all the time. It¡¯s just life. Anyway, it took me years to come out of that. I got help through government funded programs, got jobs, lived in boarding houses with other women, because I couldn¡¯t afford my own place¡­but I still sent money when I could. I felt like it was all I could do. ¡°I¡¯d been out of contact with my mom for years, and it took me a while to get the nerve to see her again. She was older, sadder, and though she welcomed me home, I saw immediately that she, like me, was a beaten woman. She had nothing left to give. ¡°All those years I had blamed her for giving up, and now I was just like her. The irony wasn¡¯t lost on me. She hadn¡¯t judged me, I had judged her. I guess teenagers do that¡­draw conclusions about people before they¡¯ve lived long enough to know just how bad life can get. I felt horribly guilty about how I¡¯d treated her in the past, but she wouldn¡¯t listen to anything resembling an apology. She assured me that I¡¯d done nothing wrong, and that she loved me. Even after the hell I¡¯d put her through, she was there for me. ¡°I stayed with her for a few years, then she moved out of state, and I was on my own. I had a fight with her before she left. I felt like she was abandoning me again. Running away. But she left anyway. ¡°She never told me she was dying. I¡¯d have been nicer to her. She had been diagnosed with cancer, and she didn¡¯t want me to watch her fade away, so she moved. I only found out after she died. ¡°That was when I decided to go back to school. It took a while, but I got financial aid, took out a student loan. Became a nurse, and met Ida Bradsworth and Danny. I threw myself into caring for him, so I didn¡¯t have to think about myself or what I¡¯d been through. ¡°I wish my mom could have seen me finally make something of myself. That would have been nice. What do you think happens after you die, Eric?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. No one does. It¡¯s called the great mystery. Se Karn, he¡¯s the god of death, claims our souls and guides them on the next stage of the journey, but that¡¯s all we know. We just believe death is not an end.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s not in this place, certainly. What did you think of Bones?¡± ¡°He seemed nice enough.¡± ¡°Eric, he was a skeleton.¡± ¡°Yeah, I noticed. But he¡¯s not the first reborn I¡¯ve met, and I¡¯m not sure being reborn automatically makes you bad. These people seem like they retain something of themselves. I mean there are bad ones like Striker, she¡¯s the one who kidnapped me and Dahr, but others I¡¯ve met don¡¯t seem quite as bad. In my mind, Nylus is the enemy.¡± ¡°Nylus? How?¡± ¡°He¡¯s the Undead King.¡± ¡°What! Are you sure?¡± ¡°I had a pretty good idea while we were still in his basement. Striker had told Dahr and I that the Undead King had been on Earth for about fifty years.¡± ¡°So that¡¯s how you knew.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know. I made a guess based on what little information I had. But it makes sense. Somehow, he ended up in control of a portal between Thysandrika and Earth. I don¡¯t know if he created it himself, or discovered it, or someone made it for him. But I do know that he has control of it. You need to get into his basement to pass through the gate and you can¡¯t get back because it¡¯s sealed behind a door. I don¡¯t know how it all fits together, there are still pieces missing, but he¡¯s the enemy. I¡¯m not sure about the rest of the reborn. How are you feeling?¡± ¡°I¡¯m okay. I¡¯ve spent years getting to where I am now. I think I¡¯m more okay because I have Danny to take care of. As long as the focus remains on someone else, I¡¯m fine.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why Sylinar accepted you, I¡¯d wager.¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± ¡°We should get some sleep, if we can. Tomorrow is going to be¡­interesting.¡± She nodded. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°For what?¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t told that story to anyone. You¡¯re the first.¡± ¡°I¡¯m honored.¡± ¡°It felt good to finally say it aloud.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad I could help.¡± She stood up, smiled wearily and turned to go. ¡°Goodnight, Eric. I¡¯ll see you in the morning.¡± ¡°Goodnight.¡± Eric joined her, leaving the light on behind him, because he didn¡¯t know how to turn it off and was too tired to figure it out. The room he¡¯d taken reminded him of Danny¡¯s room back on Earth. Just a bed, a dresser, even a television. He decided not to bother with it until he got some much needed rest. In spite of his fatigue, it took him ages to fall asleep. When he woke, he lay there, completely disoriented. Then he remembered. He had gone to sleep in a house they¡¯d been assigned in the Orientation Village, and he was still there. He felt groggy. Tired. Achy. The entire experience had been stressful. Meeting all those people, learning about this strange mini-world he was living in. That such a place should exist on Thysandrika amazed him. And then, suddenly, he was awake, sitting bolt upright in bed. He¡¯d slept¡ªbut he¡¯d not returned to his body. Eric jumped out of bed and threw on the clothes he¡¯d worn the day before. He ran into the corridor, saw the door to Suzanna¡¯s bedroom open and glanced inside. She wasn¡¯t there. He charged down the stairs and found her in the kitchen. She looked up from what was presumably a mug full of coffee. ¡°I didn¡¯t return to my body when I slept.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°I was in Danny¡¯s body all night. Dahr is alone right now with Eldiss and Aisha, and I¡¯m not there to protect him.¡± ¡°From what you¡¯ve told me, I¡¯m not sure Dahr needs protection, but I understand why you¡¯d be worried. Do you have any idea why you might not have gone back?¡± ¡°No. Also, being stuck in this body means that I can¡¯t make use of my skills. Leveling changes you physically, but Danny never leveled. Using some of my skills might hurt me in this body. At the very least, I¡¯m going to have to start working out. Building up Danny¡¯s strength and endurance. If I¡¯m going to be stuck in this body, I have to make it more useful.¡± Suzanna frowned, but before she could speak, Eric cut her off. ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean Danny was useless. But I¡¯m a tank. And for that purpose, this body isn¡¯t up to scratch. I have to improve it. Don¡¯t worry, it won¡¯t hurt Danny.¡± Suzanna nodded. ¡°Yes, okay, I can see that. Have you tried praying to Sheba?¡± Eric looked embarrassed. ¡°No. I came to tell you first. I should try.¡± Eric closed his eyes, and prayed. ¡°Sheba, please tell me, will I ever return to my old body?¡± There was no answer. More than that, Eric, for the first time since he¡¯d transitioned, couldn¡¯t feel his connection to the goddess. ¡°I can¡¯t feel her. Even on Earth I could feel her. Hang on.¡± Eric held out his hand and tried to summon his shield. Nothing happened. ¡°I¡¯m cut off from her here. I think it might have to do with being in the Plains of Xarinos. We have to get out of here!¡± ¡°Okay. If that¡¯s what you need to do.¡± She said the words, but he could see the fear in her eyes. She was going for him. She didn¡¯t need to or want to go herself. He could understand it. She was new to this world and had none of the skills to fall back on that he did. ¡°We¡¯ll give it a few days. We need to learn what we can before running off. If we¡¯re in the middle of the plains, it could take many days to reach the border. Going off into the wilderness without the knowledge to do so safely is a mistake. We¡¯re in enemy territory now. We can¡¯t wander around without knowing more.¡± Relief flooded Suzanna¡¯s face, and in spite of the morning¡¯s events, Eric felt relieved with her. There had been too much running. Too much reacting without knowing what was going on. Too much that had been out of his control. He needed to think, formulate an actual plan and not just ride the tide of events. For all he knew, this was part of someone else¡¯s plan. If Eric were going to destabilize an enemy, he might well change the playing field. And trapping Eric in Danny¡¯s body had certainly done that. Running off might be exactly what the Undead King wanted him to do. ¡°Let¡¯s get the lay of the land. I know you¡¯ll be starting your orientation classes, and that might be useful. Keep an ear open for anything we can use. I think we¡¯re safe here.¡± ¡°Why do you think that?¡± ¡°Because the Undead King guaranteed our safety, and I¡¯ve never heard of any instance where he¡¯s lied. The Undead King is known for his honesty.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yes. He¡¯s had a treaty with Lorelei for over a hundred years, and he¡¯s yet to break it. I don¡¯t trust him. I still think he has a plan. I just don¡¯t think harming us is part of the plan. I think we can take him at his word when he says we¡¯ll be safe here. Which means leaving might be a mistake.¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°It would be you and me, alone in an unknown area, where I can¡¯t use most of my skills. You¡¯re a healer, right?¡± ¡°Yes. But I¡¯m only first level.¡± ¡°We have to be smart about this. You take your classes, I¡¯m going to start working out. Let¡¯s see if we can¡¯t at least swing the odds a bit in our favor. The good news is, Dahr is on his way here. He might well be coming to us, and this is where we think we¡¯re supposed to go anyway. At least, I hope that¡¯s the case.¡± ¡°So you just want to stay here?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know yet. For all I know, tonight, I¡¯ll wake up in my body again. We¡¯ll give it some time, see where the situation takes us and when we have sufficient information, we can devise a plan.¡± ¡°Okay. That makes sense. Would you like a cup of coffee?¡± ¡°I¡¯d rather fight a Pasdara. Do we have tea?¡± ¡°We do.¡± Suzanna stood up, fetched a mug and put on an electric kettle to boil water. Eric watched tight-lipped as she put a teabag in the cup. ¡°What the hell is that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a tea bag.¡± ¡°This is not how you brew tea.¡± ¡°Oh, right,¡± she said, laughing. ¡°It¡¯s how we make tea on earth. Let me show you.¡± Eric spent the next few minutes learning about toasters and coffee makers and electric kettles. Even here, Suzanna assured him, they weren¡¯t magic. Technology had come to Thysandrika. * There was a well-stocked refrigerator with Earth foods in it, so Suzanna cooked them a breakfast of eggs, and bacon. There was bread and butter, both seemingly fresh, indicating that the kitchen had probably been stocked only shortly before they¡¯d arrived. While they ate, she decided to begin her education. ¡°Eric, what can you tell me about the gods?¡± ¡°Our entire culture centers around them. The most powerful people in the world have classes which they get from the gods. That means that people without classes don¡¯t have the same skills. They die more easily, which is why it¡¯s up to us to protect them.¡± ¡°Everyone feels this way?¡± ¡°Well, no. There are plenty who see people with classes as superior to people without them and take advantage of those people. Remember, though I¡¯m tethered to the goddess of honor and you¡¯re tethered to the goddess of healing, some people worship the god of thieves, or the goddess of war and suffering. Each god sees things differently, so the people who worship them all have different mindsets. Those who worship Iorana care about furthering the study of magic rather than helping people who aren¡¯t working toward that same cause.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t tell you about Sylinar. There wasn¡¯t much of a chance. What does it mean, do you think, that we¡¯re cut off from the gods here?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. The only place I know where this happens is in another god¡¯s temple. Sylinar has no power in Sheba¡¯s temple and vice versa. I have no idea why we have no connection here.¡± ¡°Okay, then just tell me more about the gods.¡± ¡°Okay. Sylinar is the mother goddess. That means she created all the other gods. It¡¯s why we call her the mother, but she¡¯s not really a mother. She didn¡¯t give birth to them. Though the gods do have a father.¡± ¡°They do?¡± ¡°Yes. His name is Arimen. He¡¯s the greatest warrior that has ever lived. He¡¯s strong, fast, skilled, honorable¡ªand was so even before he became immortal.¡± ¡°How could he become immortal?¡± ¡°Sylinar got lonely and wanted a companion. One that lived as long as she did. So she blessed him with immortality, though it¡¯s said he can still be killed. After they¡¯d spent a few hundred years together, Sylinar decided she wanted a family. ¡°Iorana was the first. Sylinar created her by combining her essence with that of Arimen, just as humans make their children, though of course it wasn¡¯t a physical coupling. Iorana didn¡¯t start off as a child, she was created as an adult. And Sylinar gifted her the aspect of magic to oversee. Sheba was made some time later, how much later no one really agrees on, but no one disagrees with the order of the first five gods at least. Sylinar gave her the aspects of honor, combat and the hunt. ¡°Originally Sylinar oversaw every aspect, but slowly she released parts of herself to her creations, which I guess is why they¡¯re gods. Sarith was the third of her children, but she was different than the first two. She was rebellious and unhappy, no one knows why. She refused Sylinar¡¯s gift, the aspect of nature. Instead, she asked for War and Suffering. As she was a goddess, Sylinar allowed it. We¡¯re taught that Sarith is an important god, but I don¡¯t know anyone that worships her.¡± ¡°Who would? Why would anyone worship war and suffering?¡± ¡°They don¡¯t really worship it. If you tether to Sarith, you¡¯re really saying that war and suffering are inevitable parts of life. Suffering can make you stronger. You worship the goddess of suffering to help you endure those hard times. Same with war. If you¡¯re in a country that¡¯s constantly going to war, who better to have your back than the goddess of war?¡± ¡°I can see that. So what happened after Sarith was created?¡± ¡°Then came Se Karn, the god of death, followed by Mitra, goddess of lore and learning. They¡¯re the last two major gods. The days of the week here are based on them, which is why we have six days a week, mostly anyway. We start off with the Day of the Mother, that¡¯s Sylinar¡¯s day, followed by Day of the Mage, Day of the Soldier, Day of the Dead, Loresday, Day of the Father and the Day of the Lesser Gods, which we only get once every other month.¡± ¡°You have a day of the week you only get once every other month?¡± ¡°Yes, the first week of every second month has an extra day in it, the day of the lesser gods, for those who don¡¯t worship the gods I¡¯ve mentioned already. They need a day too, but they¡¯re not as important, so they only get one occasionally.¡± ¡°Why aren¡¯t they as important?¡± ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain. The first gods, the ones Sylinar created, contained Arimen¡¯s essence as well as Sylinar¡¯s. They were created first, and it was a big deal. But the gods that came later, weren¡¯t a conscious effort on her part. They emerged from her unbidden.¡± ¡°How can you know this?¡± ¡°Mitra is the goddess of lore. A lot of the information we get, particularly about the gods, comes from her. ¡°I see. How many lesser gods are there?¡± ¡°Hundreds. I¡¯ve heard it said that they¡¯re lesser because fewer people worship them, but I don¡¯t think that¡¯s right. Some are like the god of travel or the god of creativity. What is travel to honor, or magic, or death?¡± ¡°Okay, I can see that.¡± ¡°Anyway, there are six days in the week, except the first week of every other month, giving half of the months thirty-six days and the other half thirty-seven.¡± ¡°That¡¯s so strange.¡± ¡°On Earth, you have different numbers of days in different months too.¡± ¡°Yes, but we don¡¯t have an extra weekday every other month. Our days of the week are always the same.¡± ¡°Okay, I get why it would be confusing.¡± He was about to say more, when a bell sounded. Eric looked up in confusion, but Suzanna stood and walked out of the kitchen. Eric followed her into a carpeted hallway which led past the living room and ended at the front door. She opened it, and Bones waited outside. ¡°Ready to go? I¡¯m here to take you to your first class.¡± ¡°What about me,¡± asked Eric. ¡°I don¡¯t need beginner classes in Thysandrika.¡± ¡°No, you don¡¯t. But if you come along, I can show you our gym. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find it interesting, maybe even useful.¡± ¡°Okay¡­¡± he replied uncertainly. Bones didn¡¯t enter the property, but waited until they joined him outside. ¡°Are you ready?¡± ¡°As ready as I¡¯ll ever be,¡± said Suzanna. ¡°Bones, why are we cut off from our gods here?¡± ¡°Ah, I see you¡¯ve noticed that. No one knows. This place has been a dead zone to the gods since long before the Undead King rose. I¡¯m not sure anyone knows why.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t bother you?¡± ¡°No, when you die, your connection to your god is severed. Some people are more affected by it than others. The higher your level, the worse it feels. As a human from Earth, I didn¡¯t have any levels at all. I¡¯ve never been tethered to a god, so my first experience being tethered was to the Undead King.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± said Eric. ¡°Are you saying the Undead King can tether a reborn like a god?¡± ¡°No, not at all. I¡¯m connected to him, that¡¯s all. He can talk to me, and I can talk to him. It¡¯s how I know that you¡¯re Prince Eric and not just Danny. But he can¡¯t give me a class or levels.¡± ¡°Oh, okay. Still, that¡¯s very strange.¡± ¡°This is all strange to me, even after the years I¡¯ve spent doing this. But it¡¯s a living, or in my case, a dying.¡± He looked expectantly at Eric and Suzanna, but neither laughed. ¡°Tough crowd,¡± he said, as he continued to lead them to the main street of Orientation Village. Chapter 31 - The Talk
I think communication is important, but I know it¡¯s not equally important to everyone. It seems a shame. Much conflict could be avoided if only people would talk with each other. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Twentieth of Learning 1142 Dahr opened his eyes and lay listening. Something had woken him, but he couldn¡¯t hear anything. He sniffed the air, but there was nothing but the clean smell of the grass around them with just a hint of saltwater, as if they weren¡¯t far from a large body of water. Well that made sense. The Brotherhood was an island. They obviously had to cross the water to get to it.
He had been dreaming, he realized. Dreaming about his mother. He could still remember her, of course. It had only been a couple of years since she had died, but she had been sick for a long time. That was the version of his mother that he retained. He had been aware that when he¡¯d been younger, she¡¯d been healthier and more present in his life, but he had far fewer memories of those times. Cora looked at the world through faded green eyes that were either vacant or haunted, depending on the day. Her flawless olive skin had sallowed, and her luscious black hair, now mostly gray, had become thin and brittle. What was left of it hung limply on her head as if it hadn¡¯t bothered to wait for the inevitable end. She coughed a lot, and often wheezed when she spoke. Her body had become thin, frail. She could no longer do chores around the house, so Dahr did what he could¨Cwhatever she asked of him, but even back then he knew it wasn¡¯t enough. They could have paid people to do the work, they had money he knew, but his mother didn¡¯t want anyone to see her like that. It wasn¡¯t hard to see how someone who had been so beautiful would want to hide away from the world, but her withdrawal from life had hurt him almost as much as her withdrawal from him. He had been sad when she died, but not for her. Se Karn would care for her and guide her to the afterlife. She would go on to whatever came next. Her passing shouldn¡¯t have been a sad time, but he missed her¡ªmissed her so much. King Terrence and Queen Treya had been the ones to break the news. His mother was safely in the arms of Se Karn. He never stopped to wonder why the king himself had bothered to take the time to tell a kitchen servant about his mother¡¯s death. He never wondered why Queen Treya had been so kind to him or why she had held him while he cried. Even now, years later, he didn¡¯t quite understand. He was the king¡¯s son, not hers. The only reason they knew of her passing was that King Terrence had left a man behind to stay with his mother, though he hadn¡¯t wondered about that either. He¡¯d always been told how great King Terrence was. His mother must have been in love with him, though he¡¯d never realized it before. When she¡¯d died, the king¡¯s servant had returned with the news, though it had taken him weeks to get back. By the time Dahr had learned what had happened, his mother was dead and buried. He hadn¡¯t been there to say goodbye. He hadn¡¯t been able to attend her funeral. Queen Treya and Eric had taken him to the Temple of Se Karn to say goodbye to her. That was nice. And Queen Treya had frequently stopped by the kitchens after that, often bearing treats for him. He hadn¡¯t understood why, but of course, there were things he hadn¡¯t known. Queen Treya was his mother now, in as much as he had one, and he was good with that. He loved the queen. He felt close to her. Why was he thinking about the queen? He had no idea, but the thought of her comforted him. If only he could remember his mother before she¡¯d grown ill. He felt like crying but sat up instead. There was too much happening to dwell on events of the past. The world was gray. Day wasn¡¯t far away, and with it they would continue their trip to the Brotherhood. But at the moment all was quiet. Eric sat nearby, leaning against one of the crates that had been in the wagon, blanket drawn up over him. He was sound asleep. No, not asleep. Once again, his brother was on a soul journey. He was visiting another world. Eric¡¯s head rested against the box at an odd angle, and he¡¯d probably have quite the headache when he awoke. Dahr wondered if he should do something about it, but he didn¡¯t. He just sat there, staring at the man who was his brother. Something felt off, but he didn¡¯t know what. He called up the threads and studied them. He could see that Eric wasn¡¯t present in his body, but there was something different this time. He wasn¡¯t on another world. He was on Thysandrika. Was that possible? Could you soul journey to the same world? Dahr wasn¡¯t sure, but he¡¯d never heard of anyone doing that. Not really surprising considering how little he¡¯d learned about the subject. Dahr was going to let Eric sleep but felt uneasy. Waking Eric would be better than wondering. Hopefully he wasn¡¯t interrupting anything important. ¡°Eric, wake up.¡± He kept his voice low. He didn¡¯t want Eldiss or Aisha to hear him. Dahr felt that the reborn didn¡¯t need to know about Eric¡¯s nightly travels. When Eric didn¡¯t respond, Dahr frowned and raised his voice, slightly. Still nothing. A panic he couldn¡¯t explain seized him. ¡°Eric, please, wake up.¡± Nothing. Dahr crawled the few feet to where Eric lay in the cart and shook him. ¡°Eric?¡± There was no response. He shook harder. Nothing. Panic welled up inside him, and all attempts at stealth vanished. ¡°Eldiss, there¡¯s something wrong with Eric!¡± Only a minute later, Eldiss and Aisha were with him. Eldiss was so big, he didn¡¯t have to climb onto the cart to examine Eric. Dahr worried the big man would think Eric was faking unconsciousness in an attempt to escape, but no. That didn¡¯t make sense. What could they accomplish this far from civilization? ¡°Aisha,¡± said Eldiss, ¡°Please ask our hosts if they can help.¡± Aisha didn¡¯t reply. She ran off toward where the three brethren camped further down the road. Eldiss continued to try to wake Eric, gently at first, then more roughly. Worried that he might hurt Eric, Dahr interceded. ¡°You might want to wait till they get here. He¡¯s not just unconscious.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°He¡¯s on a soul journey.¡± Eldiss returned Dahr¡¯s expectant look with a blank one of his own. ¡°I don¡¯t think his soul is present in his body.¡± ¡°What could do that?¡± ¡°Veresh,¡± said Dahr, ¡°among other things. I just don¡¯t know what those other things are. We¡¯re going to need help on this one.¡± ¡°You seem to know a lot about it for someone your age.¡± ¡°I took a soul journey myself not long ago. Lord Ormund, who taught us about magic, mentioned it at one of our lessons. I don¡¯t think he meant to teach us about it, so much as learn more about my journey, but I didn¡¯t tell him much. Lord Ormund wasn¡¯t one of my favorite people.¡± Eldiss looked Dahr over, apparently decided he wasn¡¯t going to get more from him and turned his gaze toward the place where the brethren had camped. He stood waiting, a giant of a man that Dahr thought he should be more afraid of, but the threads had reassured him. The big man had never meant him any harm, no matter how loud he spoke or how stern his voice. While they waited for help to arrive, Dahr called up Eric¡¯s thread. It didn¡¯t lead to his body, because a body was only a vehicle. In the truest sense, a person is their soul. Dahr wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d learned that somewhere, or if the knowledge came from his strange relationship with George. The thread, being linked to Eric¡¯s soul, ran off into the distance. Dahr started following it in his mind. He could tell, somehow, that Eric was far, far away, but he couldn¡¯t say where. When he was first testing out the threads, he had felt the thread that linked him to Chari and Kalutu when they were presumably still in the vicinity of Rish. This felt like it was much further away. Nevertheless, he kept following it, pushing himself to follow a thread further than he¡¯d ever tried before. His efforts were interrupted by the arrival of the brethren. Dahr immediately dismissed the threads, knowing how unwelcome his ability was here. None of the brethren spoke or so much as touched Eric. They stood silently, staring at the unconscious boy in the back of the cart. Dahr knew they were doing something but didn¡¯t know what. A long time passed before Dahr decided to say something. Before he could get it out, he heard Quant¡¯s voice in his head. Do you know where he is? Just think your answer back to me. No¡­maybe. He¡¯s on a soul journey. I see. Do you know how this state was achieved? Sorry, but no. Can you help him? No. But there are others on the island who might be able to. ¡°It is time to leave,¡± said the blond woman, aloud. Dahr wondered what her name was. Gabriella, but my friends call me Gabby. Are you reading my mind? No. Your thoughts are very loud. You¡¯re going to need to learn to shield them. I can help you with that. And what will that cost me. Nothing. We are not as mercenary as humans. Though I am very curious about you. I¡¯ll bet. If you can help him, I¡¯ll tell you a little about my abilities. I don¡¯t know if we can, but we will try. Dahr didn¡¯t plan to give up much, but the brethren, people who could sense when he used his ability, might be a good source of knowledge about it. He watched while Aisha made Eric comfortable and then motioned to Eldiss to get on the way. Dahr stood off to the side, feeling helpless and useless. What was the use of all this power if he couldn¡¯t do anything to help Eric? And what would he do if Eric didn¡¯t wake up? Dahr, in his desperation, reached out to the one being who might be able to help. George, if you¡¯re listening, please, help him. I¡¯m pretty sure that Eric doesn¡¯t need help at the moment. I believe he¡¯s doing just fine. Do you know where he is? Yes. He is on the Plains of Xarinos. He¡¯s on the Plains of Xarinos and doesn¡¯t need help? He¡¯s a guest of the Undead King, who has no intention of harming him. How can you know this? That¡¯s a fair question. Would you like an honest answer? Of course. I don¡¯t know for sure, but I suspect it has to do with being a force of chaos. The gods that you worship are gods of order. Chaos isn¡¯t compatible. Sheba and Iorana might not be able to penetrate the Plains of Xarinos, but there may be some lesser gods that can. This is just a theory, though. Have you always been able to¡­penetrate the Plains of Xarinos? Yes. Dahr didn¡¯t say anything else, but he wondered if that information should worry him. On one hand, he had access to information beyond even the gods, but there were too many implications from that for him to know if that was a good thing. How did he know, for example, that George wasn¡¯t a servant of the Undead King? He didn¡¯t. But he had decided he would trust George until he had reason not to. Was this reason enough? No, he decided. If George were a servant of the Undead King, he would have hid this connection. George had opened up to Dahr, even knowing that they saw the Undead King as the Enemy. Perhaps he could be trusted after all. * Ambassador Rhea wasn¡¯t sure what to expect when she appeared in the throne room in Sawheta. Though she had visited four smaller kingdoms over the last couple of days, nothing that had happened in any of them would serve as an indication of what was to come. That was because those smaller kingdoms were used to doing what they were told. Zoloa and Sawheta, the two largest kingdoms in the Allied Kingdoms of Karmenon, made all the important decisions. Each smaller kingdom was more or less a vassal state that voted as they were told to vote. On rare occasions, one kingdom or another would switch sides, but the balance between the two most powerful kingdoms had remained fairly stable over the course of time. Sawheta and Zoloa were occasionally on the same page, but the competition between them went back at least a couple of centuries. They were rivals through and through, if not actual enemies, and everyone knew it. None of the smaller countries would be anything but cooperative with Rhea, but King Bronen and Queen Navanata might see Rhea¡¯s promotion as an insult to their kingdom. Obviously, it was an important stop for her. She had braced herself before traveling, standing away from the edge of the chirkir with Jerish, her mother, and a contingent of Melarian palace guards. As soon as they appeared, she looked around.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The throne room was similar to its counterpart in Melar. Two thrones resided on a wide marble platform at the rear of the room. There were columns, tapestries, even statues of the king and queen. A brief look around suggested it hadn¡¯t changed much since the last time she had been there. The Sawhetan guards hadn¡¯t reacted, but that didn¡¯t surprise her. By now, everyone would be ready for a chirkir to arrive suddenly in the presence of their rulers. A quick glance told her that King Bronen wasn¡¯t around. Queen Navanata, who had been standing nearby talking to a noblewoman, walked toward her and knelt as if in acknowledgement of her rank. Rhea had been ready for many things, but not that. Queen Navanata looked much like she had twenty years ago. Her silken blonde hair had been cut shorter, but her blue eyes were just as sharp. Her fair skin remained both unblemished and unwrinkled. Her full lips were tinged with just enough red to make one wonder if she were using cosmetics, and her face held a serene superiority that very much spoke to her character. ¡°Queen Navanata, there is no need for such a gesture,¡± she said as soon as she recovered from her surprise. ¡°On the contrary,¡± replied the queen, ¡°you represent the High King, and both King Bronen and I felt that, given our past, we needed to make our allegiance clear. Whatever our experiences of each other have been until now, that is over. The gods have chosen King Terrence, and they have chosen you. In Sawheta, we honor the gods. We honor their choices. And you are their choice.¡± Rhea, surprised by the overt cooperation, stood motionless. It was the one thing she hadn¡¯t been prepared for. Realizing the queen was still kneeling, she stepped off the chirkir, crossed the distance between them and helped her up. Then she knelt herself. ¡°Queen Navanata, you honor me, but this is your kingdom. It is your will that rules here, and I am but a guest. And while it is true that your kingdom and mine have often been at odds for various reasons, we are both on the same side in this fight. If you are a willing participant, if you will help with the expense of provisioning and sending troops to fight under High King Terrence¡¯s banner, then you need never kneel to me again. I appreciate the gesture, but we both know that you are queen of a kingdom far greater than my own.¡± Now it was Queen Navanata¡¯s turn to be flustered. She blushed and immediately moved to help Rhea up. ¡°Nonsense, Rhea, Melar is¡­¡± ¡°Small, and only in any position of power at all because of its location. And that¡¯s okay. Even before the war declaration, I was well satisfied with my lot in life. I admit I was nervous about coming here given our past interactions, but it seems that worry was for nothing.¡± ¡°Will you do us the honor of staying the night?¡± Rhea was going to decline but realized that itself might be seen as an insult. ¡°Of course, but we must be gone early tomorrow. There are still other stops to make. May I present my mother, Queen Raven, and my personal bodyguard, Jerish.¡± ¡°Queen Raven. It has been a long time. I¡¯m sorry for not greeting you sooner, but I didn¡¯t recognize you at first.¡± ¡°Understandable, as I have aged greatly since you have last seen me.¡± Queen Navanata frowned. ¡°Apologies, that isn¡¯t what I meant.¡± ¡°Yes it is, and it¡¯s okay. It would be hard for anyone to recognize me after what I¡¯ve been through. I take no offense whatsoever. Though might I say, you¡¯ve barely changed at all.¡± ¡°Bosh. Pretty lies are still lies, Raven. It¡¯s been what, at least twenty years since we¡¯ve last seen each other. How are you feeling?¡± ¡°You mean is my mind still broken? Yes, it is.¡± Rhea saw the discomfort on Queen Navanata¡¯s face and stepped in before this went further. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll have time to catch up later. I do wish to see the king, however. It has been too long.¡± ¡°Yes, of course,¡± said Queen Navanata, gesturing to one of the servants to fetch him. The servant bowed and ran from the room. For some reason, Rhea followed his progress to the door. No one spoke or moved as if they were waiting for her to say something further. She hated being in this position. ¡°We¡¯ll need an estimate on the number of troops you can provide and their disposition. Breakdown of classes and levels, that sort of thing.¡± ¡°It¡¯s already done, Ambassador Rhea. When I said we would cooperate, I meant it. We are with the high king in this, because we remember Lethe, and it is entirely possible that the Undead King is even more dangerous.¡± ¡°I think the difference is that Lethe had a human king. The Undead King is far older and more powerful. If he were able to expand his territory, well, who could stand against him?¡± ¡°We understand each other then. Ah, look who¡¯s come to visit.¡± Before Rhea could say anything, King Bronen had entered and dropped to his knees. Rhea hurried forward to help him up as he looked quite a bit older than she remembered, most likely because he hadn¡¯t kept pace with his wife¡¯s leveling. The king¡¯s kind face showed wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. His salt and pepper hair was cut short, as was his neatly trimmed beard. His brown eyes seemed shadowed as if he hadn¡¯t been sleeping well, but wearing a crown could do that to you. He was dressed in red with gold trim from his doublet down to his boots, and wore a flowing gold cape that seemed too large on his slender frame, as if it was made before he¡¯d lost weight. Rhea wondered if his health might be suffering, but only briefly. He had knelt quickly and fluidly, belying Rhea¡¯s first impression of frailty. When she looked to her right, Jerish was there, ready to support her. Help her. Protect her. For a moment, she lost her train of thought. Here she was in the throne room of her most problematical ally, and she was thinking about Jerish. Another thing she¡¯d have to take care of. She turned her attention from him, hoping no one had noticed her reaction, but of course, that wouldn¡¯t be the case. King Bronen and Queen Navanata were too sharp to miss anything that obvious. She chided herself for losing focus and frowned. She¡¯d get back to business here, but sooner or later, she¡¯d have to have a serious talk with Jerish. King Bronen interrupted her thoughts. ¡°Over the years, we¡¯ve all developed set responses to situations that arise frequently. For example, this is where I¡¯d say, ¡®you must be tired from your long journey. Perhaps you would like to be shown to your quarters¡¯, but this is the first time I¡¯ve had someone arrive by chirkir. I¡¯m curious, how does it feel?¡± ¡°The first couple of times I felt disoriented, but now I think I¡¯m used to it. Would you like to try?¡± ¡°What me? Use a chirkir?¡± He seemed to consider it. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that taking a risk like that would be irresponsible. One day, perhaps, when I step down, but no, not now. There are more important things than my curiosity to consider.¡± ¡°You¡¯re quite right, of course,¡± said Rhea. ¡°And I may not be tired, but I could do with a drink. This has been a trying week.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± said Queen Navanata. ¡°In the excitement I¡¯ve quite forgotten my manners. Let¡¯s move to somewhere more comfortable.¡± While refreshments were being organized, Rhea thought back to the last time she¡¯d been in Sawheta. Different time, different situation, of course, but King Bronen and Queen Navanata had not changed. Their cooperation had surprised her, but that didn¡¯t mean they weren¡¯t playing a deeper game as well. She could take nothing for granted. It might well be that their actions had been designed to throw her off. She¡¯d have to be more careful moving forward. * Rhea¡¯s talk with Jerish finally occurred on their third day of travel, during their first and only night in Sawheta. The king and queen had assigned her a room that shared a door with her bodyguard. Did everyone think Jerish was her lover? When she finally returned to Leonid, there would be some awkward questions. Still, there was nothing she could do about that now. What she could do was make sure that the situation didn¡¯t get any worse. So she knocked on his door, and he opened it. ¡°Yes, my Queen?¡± He was still fully dressed, which suited her just fine. Tall and lanky, with long disheveled red hair, he looked like a court jester might, and often acted the part when no one else was around, anyway. He stared at her curiously and waited. ¡°We need to talk.¡± ¡°About?¡± She wondered if she should invite him into her room, or go into his. It didn¡¯t really make a difference. No one outside would know what happened, so she stepped aside and nodded to her room. He entered, looking around since he hadn¡¯t seen it yet. It was a very well-appointed room as befit the high king¡¯s ambassador. It had a huge four poster bed with a canopy and curtains hanging down all around. The bedspread was cream-colored, matching the curtains. The neutral color contrasted nicely with the beads woven into each panel, forming interesting geometric shapes in a panoply of colors, each side unique. The furniture was of the highest quality, made from dark wood, and included two dressers, a wardrobe and two end tables, one on each side of the bed. ¡°We need to talk about our relationship.¡± ¡°What relationship would that be, m¡¯lady?¡± He blinked innocently. Had she imagined it? Surely not. ¡°I think you know what I¡¯m talking about.¡± ¡°Your Highness, or would you prefer Madam Ambassador?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± ¡°You are above me in rank. You are married to a man I have pledged to serve. Whether or not I feel attraction to you is of no consequence. I am not in a position to press any relationship at all, other than the one that already exists. I was ordered to protect you, and that is exactly what I intend to do.¡± She bit her lip. This was not going how she thought it would. Why was he so willing to flirt with her sometimes, but so serious right now? What was his game? ¡°You¡¯re a servant, Jerish. Exactly how are you meant to protect me?¡± ¡°With my life, m¡¯lady.¡± She sighed. ¡°What would you do if I were attacked? For that matter, why does my mother insist that there is more to you than meets the eye? What makes you qualified to protect me?¡± ¡°There may be a few things about me you don¡¯t know, m¡¯lady.¡± ¡°Such as?¡± ¡°I am not King Leonid¡¯s servant. I am his bodyguard.¡± She stared at him. Even though she knew he was deceptively strong, it was hard to picture him as anything but a servant. Then again, maybe that was the point. ¡°And how did that happen?¡± ¡°I was assigned to protect him at all costs, the way I am now assigned to protect you. If you make me reveal more than that, you might put me in danger. No one can know my true nature.¡± True nature? ¡°Are you human?¡± ¡°Oh yes. But I am not what I seem.¡± ¡°So my mother has told me.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll tell you, if you order me to do so. I am bound to serve. But it will not help you, and it might hurt me. I would think very carefully before asking for the truth about me, m¡¯lady.¡± This stumped Rhea completely. She had no idea what to do. As a servant of Mitra, she absolutely wanted to know. As a compassionate human being, she didn¡¯t want to put her servant¡­no, bodyguard in danger. ¡°Why will telling me put you in danger?¡± ¡°Because my goddess does not wish anyone to know.¡± And there it was. If he was told by a goddess to keep a secret, and she demanded it from him, he would have to choose between obeying his goddess and obeying his sovereign. If he chose her, as he implied he would, then it might well put him in danger. ¡°Okay. I won¡¯t ask. What can you tell me?¡± He stepped forward. He was very close now. He leaned even closer as if he intended to whisper the answer in her ear. ¡°You want me.¡± Her heart skipped a beat. A statement. Not a shred of doubt in the tone of his voice. ¡°That¡¯s not relevant to this conversation,¡± she said, though she wasn¡¯t sure it was true. Damn him, she had to think. ¡°You¡¯re the Queen. If you ordered me to your bed, I would not refuse.¡± He leaned even closer so she could feel his breath on her ear. ¡°Do you think that¡¯s something you might wish to do? How long has it been, m¡¯lady?¡± She wished he¡¯d stop calling her that. It really was driving her crazy. ¡°I think it¡¯s time for you to return to your room.¡± ¡°As you wish, m¡¯lady.¡± The touch of his lips on her ear was so light, she wasn¡¯t sure she hadn¡¯t imagined it. She bit her lip again. Her legs felt weak. ¡°Go.¡± He stepped back, bowed and returned to his room, closing the door behind him. Rhea stood, rigid, eyes pressed tightly shut, wondering why she was so attracted to him. Did he have a skill? Some power? But it didn¡¯t matter. The situation hadn¡¯t changed at all. Well that wasn¡¯t completely true. It had changed. He had all but admitted he wasn¡¯t just a servant, and that revealing what he truly was could put him in danger. If that was the case, how could she trust him? Was he really looking out for her best interests? She growled in frustration and slapped herself across the face to bring herself to her senses. Well, whatever the case, until she knew more, she had to resist his advances. She had a feeling it wasn¡¯t going to be so easy. * Alice Trast had become a puppy. Not literally, perhaps, but it¡¯s what she felt like. All day, every day, she faithfully followed Queen Treya around, watching, learning, remaining ready to jump in and cause chaos in the guise of being helpful. Even wagging her tail when Treya paid her a compliment. She couldn¡¯t remember a time when she¡¯d assumed that role, not even when she was a child. That she now had amused her no end. This wasn¡¯t something that Treya had thrust upon her, so much as Trast¡¯s understanding of how nobles were meant to act. And under normal circumstances that didn¡¯t come into play. Most of the time, she was the most important noble, and so she set the conditions for whatever gathering she was at. That wasn¡¯t true, however, when she was walking with the Queen. To be clear, she would never be meek. She¡¯d offer her opinion whether it was asked for or not. Presumably that¡¯s why Treya had chosen to elevate her in the first place. But when out in public, she would never do anything to disrespect the queen, because she genuinely liked her. So many people approached Treya only because they wanted something. She saw it immediately, a never-ending theme in the queen¡¯s life. People wanted something and sought her out. But Lady Trast and Lady Mere were high enough in the food chain that they didn¡¯t require anything. They were both from important noble families in one of the most successful kingdoms in the world¡ªold, rich families that wanted for nothing. Well that wasn¡¯t exactly true. Trast wanted excitement in whatever form that took, and Mere wanted something to solve. The two of them got into trouble together, and early on had decided to support the new queen, as much for something to do as anything else. No, it was more than that. The new queen was young and perhaps in over her head in the beginning. She¡¯d have been easy to take advantage of. But they liked her, and more importantly they loved Terrence, even before he had ridden off to Xarinos to become a hero. They were both hurt when Treya withdrew from them when Terrence had gone off to war, but there had been rumblings at the time, first of an affair and later of some sort of medical condition. Treya had refused to see them, and for a while that had hurt Trast¡¯s feelings, even though she could see reasons why things might be that way. With Terrence gone and a new child, it had to be hard, though that was all the more reason to let your friends help. When Terrence returned, Treya sought them out to apologize, and though she didn¡¯t tell them that she had been pregnant, there were enough clues in what she had said for both Trast and Mere to work it out. They never said it to the queen, but they talked about it among themselves, and finally understood. That there was no baby could only mean one thing. Something every noblewoman in Rish understood all too well. Like so many others, Treya had lost a child. Instantly all was forgiven. How could they blame her? The pain. The anguish. More so for a queen who was expected to produce not only an heir, but more than one, because life was dangerous, particularly for royals. She realized Treya had asked her something and, lost in thought, she had missed it. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Your Highness. I was elsewhere.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not surprised. You¡¯ve got a lot on your plate. I asked if you had anything planned for the Day of the Dead.¡± ¡°I suspect I¡¯ll be following you around, unless you¡¯re tired of seeing me.¡± Treya laughed. ¡°That won¡¯t happen. It¡¯s so rare we get to spend time together¡ªthis is a treat for me. Though I suppose it¡¯s not all that exciting for you. I was saying that might change on the twenty-second though.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Yes, you know the nobles court is on.¡± Trast snorted. ¡°Oh sure, let the excitement begin. Listening to a bunch of self-centered rich people airing their problems, expecting the king or queen to solve everything for them. It¡¯s so exciting that I won¡¯t breathe for the first couple of hours of listening to them drone on about their petty nonsense.¡± Treya snickered ¡°You¡¯re so bad. But no, this time it¡¯s going to be different.¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to be on the throne. You¡¯ll be the one with the solutions.¡± ¡°Me?¡± Treya laughed. ¡°Yes, you. You¡¯ll need some practical experience sooner or later.¡± ¡°Can I vote for later?¡± ¡°No. In two days time, you get to change a few lives, hopefully for the better.¡± ¡°I have no idea how to do this, you realize.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll pick it up quickly enough. You¡¯ve been to enough of them.¡± ¡°What if I decide something the wrong way?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the beauty of the throne. There is no wrong way, there¡¯s just your way, and if you happen to be wrong, you¡¯ll never hear about it, because no one is going to tell you you made a mistake.¡± ¡°No one would tell you maybe. I¡¯m fairly sure I¡¯ll hear about it.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure. You¡¯ve moved out of the noble stable and into royalty. Maybe not by birth, but it¡¯s almost like I¡¯ve adopted you. That¡¯s how people will see it. You probably haven¡¯t noticed yet, but you will. You¡¯re a level higher now, and people will be less willing to say anything negative to your face. It won¡¯t stop them from talking behind your back, but you¡¯re going to be more popular than you¡¯ve ever been.¡± ¡°Oh, I can¡¯t wait. Why did I agree to this again?¡± ¡°Because I need you.¡± Trast blew out her breath. ¡°Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no. I meant it when I said I¡¯ll always be there for you.¡± ¡°I know. And with Terrence gone, I¡¯m going to need you more than ever.¡± ¡°I know.¡± There was nothing else to say and neither said it. However, since they were approaching the temple of Sylinar, there wasn¡¯t much time left to talk anyway. Once inside, a priest would introduce Treya to yet another victim of soul damage, and she would heal them. This would be her third. The second hadn¡¯t taken any time at all. The queen, along with her other talents, was now considered a soul healer. Completely unheard of, but for Queen Treya, perhaps not completely unexpected. She¡¯d always been better than others around her, even if she never saw it herself. It was one of the things Lady Trast liked about her. For her entire life, she¡¯d been surrounded by nobles filled with their own sense of self-importance. Then came Treya who was so down-to-earth. So humble. So damned good at everything. It almost wasn¡¯t fair. The healing went even faster than it did the last time and, once again, Treya was the hero of the moment. During the walk back to the palace, all Trast could think about was that for the first time, publicly, she would sit on the throne of the Kingdom of Twyl, ready to sit in judgment of other nobles. She tried to figure out how to approach the situation and after a while gave up. She¡¯d just have to wing it and hope for the best. She sincerely hoped that Queen Treya wouldn¡¯t have to do much damage control after it was all said and done. Chapter 32 - Accelerated Learning
I¡¯d like to think that I¡¯m a fast learner, but it¡¯s hard to maintain that delusion when the people around me are making progress much faster than I am. The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu Twentieth of Learning 1142 The trip to the island known to most of the world as The Brotherhood was fraught with tension. Dahr would normally have taken an interest in everything happening, but he couldn¡¯t take his mind off Eric. He didn¡¯t want to think what it would be like to be alone with Eldiss and Aisha, not to mention being surrounded by the Brethren.
The ride to the ferry was uneventful. If anything interesting had transpired, Dahr hadn¡¯t taken notice. The ferry was much bigger than Dahr expected it to be. It turned out to be a floating wooden platform connected to a smaller boat by thick ropes. Fortunately, it was large enough to take the cart and horses as well as the rest of the group. In truth, the floating platform was large enough to hold several such carts. Dahr sat with Eric, who had remained in the cart. He spoke to him softly, though he didn¡¯t know why. He knew Eric couldn¡¯t hear him. Eric¡¯s soul was elsewhere, and Dahr had yet to pinpoint its exact location. In some ways, it reminded him of when he¡¯d tried to track Kalutu and ended up running into a barrier he couldn¡¯t pass through. It was all so frustrating. One thing was certain though¡ªhe needed to learn more, sooner rather than later. That meant getting closer to Gabby, who led the small group of brethren assigned to meet them. She stood grouped with the others on the far side of the ferry, though she did cast occasional glances in his direction. She didn¡¯t understand his power. Well, she was in good company. Dahr didn¡¯t understand his power either. In fact, it was entirely likely that she knew more about it than he did. This wasn¡¯t the time to approach her, but he¡¯d talk to her as soon as he could. Preferably with no one else around. He was pulled from his thoughts as the ferry started moving. He turned his attention to the vessel pulling the platform. It was little more than a weathered rowboat in which a man sat on a wooden bench, doing nothing. Yet the raft moved forward. Despite his earlier hesitation, he walked to where the Brethren stood. Though they weren¡¯t speaking aloud, it didn¡¯t mean they weren¡¯t communicating silently. ¡°Hello,¡± he said. ¡°Hello,¡± said Quant, ¡°I take it you¡¯re curious about our method of transportation?¡± ¡°I am.¡± ¡°Garret is moving the boat with the power of his mind.¡± Dahr let that sit for a few minutes without replying. He¡¯d always known that the Brotherhood had powers, but he¡¯d never pictured anything like this. ¡°Can all Brethren do this?¡± ¡°No, we¡¯re all specialized. I couldn¡¯t do it,¡± said Quant. ¡°How long will it take to get to the Brotherhood?¡± ¡°All day. There¡¯s nothing we can do for Eric till we get there, but we can answer some of your questions, if you have any.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t even know what to ask,¡± said Dahr. ¡°Everything has happened so fast I can barely keep up.¡± Quant nodded in understanding. ¡°You¡¯ve leveled too quickly. This often leads to confusion. Most people need time to adjust to what they¡¯ve learned and the changes that happen to their bodies. It seems your god had reason to accelerate your progression. That doesn¡¯t make you more able to use what you know.¡± ¡°How do I remedy that?¡± ¡°Practice,¡± said Gabby. ¡°Starting with learning to shield your thoughts and emotions. You¡¯re going to a place where everyone your age knows how to do that, because they¡¯ve been learning all their lives. You¡¯ve inherited this power later in life, and suddenly, you¡¯re behind.¡± ¡°How can I learn to do that?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll show you. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. There are a lot of ways to shield your mind, but the easiest to learn is to visualize a barrier. Focus on it. Make it real. What is it made of? Stone? Metal? What kind? Think of the color, the texture, its ability to reflect light. The better you can visualize it, the stronger it becomes.¡± Quant gasped. ¡°Am I the only one feeling this?¡± ¡°What?¡± asked Dahr. ¡°We all feel it,¡± said Gabby. ¡°Dahr, you said you never learned how to shield yourself?¡± ¡°No. This is the first time I¡¯ve tried to. I didn¡¯t have to in the palace in Rish. Why? What¡¯s going on?¡± Gabby looked him over thoughtfully. ¡°Dahr, the barrier you¡¯ve constructed is perfect. Not good. Not excellent. It¡¯s flawless. It takes years to learn that skill. I¡¯m not sure I could do what you¡¯ve done.¡± ¡°I had a good teacher?¡± said Dahr, not sure how to deal with the compliment. ¡°No, Dahr, there¡¯s something else going on. I expected you to fail a couple of times. I expected to probe the wall and find ways through it, so I could help you perfect your technique. I expected to do those over the days ahead. But there isn¡¯t a flaw for me to exploit or a gap for me to enter through. You¡¯ve completely locked me out of your mind.¡± Dahr looked thoughtful. ¡°If I were a suspicious person, I might suggest you¡¯re exaggerating so that you¡¯d have access to my thoughts without me knowing, but you¡¯re not lying. I can tell that much.¡± ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be able to do that either. I¡¯m always shielding myself. For you to see if I¡¯m lying or telling the truth means you¡¯ve penetrated my barrier. I¡¯d like to try something. Would you mind if I tried to attack you mentally?¡± Dahr smiled. ¡°Well, that¡¯s not an offer I get every day. Would it hurt?¡± ¡°If it does, I¡¯ll stop right away.¡± Dahr looked doubtful but nodded anyway. ¡°Okay.¡± Gabby closed her eyes. Dahr could feel the pressure on his soul, but it was distant. It didn¡¯t have much affect on him. Even when it started to ramp up, it wasn¡¯t particularly uncomfortable. After a while, the pressure eased. ¡°What are you?¡± asked Gabby. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°No one can stand up to that type of pressure without a decade of training. You¡¯re not human, or at least, not just human.¡± ¡°Are you sure?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never met a human who could resist that type of attack. Higher level humans are as susceptible as anyone. You¡¯re a complete mystery to me.¡± ¡°Well that sucks, because I was looking for explanations.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have any. But maybe, together, we can work things out.¡± ¡°I¡¯m ready to start now.¡± Gabby didn¡¯t say anything aloud, but her companions moved off to the far side of the raft. Gabby sat across from him. ¡°Can you take your shield down?¡± Dahr was about to say he didn¡¯t know how, when he felt it fade away. ¡°Apparently.¡± Gabby looked stunned. ¡°I wonder what else you can do.¡± ¡°That would make two of us,¡± said Dahr, wryly. * Twenty-second of Learning 1142 Eric didn¡¯t wake up. Not the first day, not the second. Dahr didn¡¯t understand what had changed. He had been aware Eric had been on soul journeys, but he¡¯d always come back. Had something happened to him in that other place that prevented him from returning? Was he being held captive somehow? Was he injured? What forces could stop a soul from returning to its body? Dahr didn¡¯t know but desperately wanted to find out. Dahr spent his days practicing with Gabby and picked up everything she taught him with an ease she assured him wasn¡¯t at all natural. His ability to probe, block, even attack with his mind was better than it had any right to be. Gabby was a good teacher. She was patient, empathic, encouraging. Her expressive silver eyes watched everything he did, and if he hadn¡¯t been so sure of her intentions, they¡¯d have unnerved him. He had been given a room in Gabby¡¯s home, which was a small cottage. It was a quaint, wooden single-story structure with only a few small rooms. Even his servant¡¯s quarters in Rish were better appointed. There was a woven mat for him to sleep on, a few wooden chairs, and a table. He felt like he was a kitchen servant again. Eric had taken Gabby¡¯s room which at least had a bed. The room could have used a bit of color though. Everything was brown or gray. The furniture was unpainted, though it seemed of reasonable quality to Dahr. Not like the higher quality furnishings that had populated Eric¡¯s room, but at least as good as the few pieces of furniture found in his own quarters. He had asked Gabby where she would sleep and she assured him that it wouldn¡¯t be a problem. Maybe Gabby was like the reborn and didn¡¯t need to eat or sleep, taking what she needed from ambient magic somehow. She still sat with him during meals. During one of those meals, Dahr questioned her about Eric¡¯s condition. ¡°Won¡¯t Eric starve if he remains unconscious? It¡¯s not like he can eat.¡± ¡°Eric will be fine. By fifth level, your body is modified enough to absorb enough energy to survive from ambient magic. People who have attained tier 2 can¡¯t starve to death at all. But in addition, we¡¯ve been feeding him energy mentally.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°You can do that?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t, no. But we have healers who can.¡± ¡°What about water?¡± ¡°His body is turning the magic we feed him into what he needs to survive. We may not know exactly what he needs, but his soul does.¡± ¡°But his soul is traveling. His soul isn¡¯t in his body.¡± ¡°That¡¯s only partly true. Your soul never completely leaves your body. Most of it does, but there¡¯s always an anchor. A small portion that remains behind. It contains the plans for your entire soul. If a soul is destroyed during the journey, exposed to enough magic, it will grow back.¡± Dahr listened, wide-eyed. He hadn¡¯t known a soul could divide that way. It gave him hope that Eric would be okay, even if something happened to his soul. ¡°What about when we transition? Is it the same?¡± ¡°Yes. There¡¯s always part of you that remains behind in the physical plain. If your soul were to completely leave your body, you¡¯d die. Mind you, the part that remains behind is just a template. A set of instructions to grow your soul again. It¡¯s not a functional soul, though it can become one under the right circumstances.¡± Dahr thought about this and didn¡¯t ask any more questions. It had given him the hope he needed. It didn¡¯t change the fact that most of Eric¡¯s soul had journeyed somewhere and was unable to find its way back. That was still scary. But Eric would be okay. Dahr had another thought. ¡°Gabby, how long will we be allowed to remain here?¡± ¡°Until Striker comes for you, at least.¡± ¡°But what happens after that? What if Striker insists on taking Eric from here? How will he survive?¡± ¡°We won¡¯t let anything happen to Prince Eric. We¡¯ll make sure he¡¯s taken care of. If Striker insists on taking him, we¡¯ll send a soul healer with her to make sure he doesn¡¯t die.¡± Dahr nodded. ¡°Thank you. You said you have some questions about my class.¡± ¡°I do.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t tell you much. My god won¡¯t allow it. But I can say this much. I can see and read the threads that connect people. I¡¯m only just learning so I don¡¯t really know the potential.¡± ¡°Threads?¡± ¡°I can see the connections between us.¡± ¡°Visually? You can see them?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°That¡¯s extraordinary.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t see them?¡± ¡°No. We feel them. It¡¯s more intuitive for us. We know things and we know why those things happen. We understand the underlying causality of events, but we can¡¯t see threads the way you can. What do they look like?¡± ¡°When I first started seeing them, they were almost like colorful strings, but you could see through them. And they were all solid colors. The yellow ones were the thickest and brightest. I took it to mean that those connections were the strongest¡ªthe people I was closest to. But then I came across a multi-colored thread. Well, it had been solid yellow, but it changed.¡± ¡°Will you tell me who that thread was connected to?¡± ¡°My familiar, Kalutu. He¡¯s a were-owl.¡± ¡°You have a were-owl familiar? That¡¯s very strange.¡± ¡°Is it? I have no idea. What¡¯s strange is that I brought him back from a transition dream.¡± Dahr didn¡¯t mind revealing this, because it was common knowledge back in Rish. It wouldn¡¯t be that hard for someone to find out, considering the public interest in Eric¡¯s transition. ¡°If you were to look at me using your ability, could you tell me what you see?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Would you?¡± Dahr thought about it. He didn¡¯t see how it could hurt, and it might help. If Gabby knew what he was seeing, she might be able to explain it. ¡°Can I finish my porridge first?¡± Gabby laughed. ¡°Of course you can.¡± Dahr didn¡¯t care about breakfast, but he needed time to think. He considered what he could safely reveal about his abilities and what he needed to hold back. On one hand, he wanted the brethren to help him learn, but on the other, he didn¡¯t want to get on George¡¯s bad side. At length, he found himself standing outside the cottage. Gabby sat on a bench in front of him. He summoned the threads and felt immediately overwhelmed, so he dismissed all of them, except for the one that ran from her to him. It was light blue, but unlike other threads he¡¯d seen, it glowed as if it was suffused with its own energy. ¡°I can see the thread linking us. It¡¯s blue. I don¡¯t have a clue what that means. I¡¯m about to use my skill now.¡± He used Thread Reader. As long as he was focused on the one thread, it was fine. They didn¡¯t have enough of a history between them for it to become overwhelming. Still, he could see when they met and follow the chain of events that led to this moment. Had he not experienced those events himself, he¡¯d not have been able to read them, which made the skill all but useless. Ideally, he would need to read the thread and understand it without having experienced it. ¡°What do you see,¡± she asked. ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain. The thread linking us has taken on a more nuanced form, but because we¡¯ve only just met, the details are small.¡± ¡°What do you mean by more nuanced?¡± It was a good question. What did it mean? Dahr looked at the thread closer, studying its texture and detail. The surface of the thread wasn¡¯t smooth. It was like the surface of a rope. From a distance a rope looked like a line between two places, but as you got closer, it started to take on shape. You could tell if it was old or new, worn, stained. If only there was a way to examine the thread more closely. The moment he thought it, the thread seemed to grow. He could examine it in minute detail. He picked out a small section, and it filled his vision. Wait, was that movement he saw beneath the surface? Threads were translucent after all. He located the place on the thread where they¡¯d met and spent a minute studying it. He stifled a gasp. Deep within were images of their first meeting. He could see the cart approaching through Gabby¡¯s eyes. She focused first on Eldiss, which made sense, because he was large enough to see from the distance. As the cart approached, she turned her attention to each of them in turn. He could see her memories! The question was whether or not he should tell her. No, he decided. He needed to keep some secrets. The more he focused on it, the clearer the images became. This could be useful, though a lot would depend on how well he would be able to figure out where he was on the thread. Dahr shook his head to clear it. ¡°Are you all right?¡± ¡°I think so.¡± ¡°I asked if you could explain what you meant by nuanced.¡± ¡°Oh sorry, I was trying to figure out how to explain it, but I got sidetracked. It¡¯s like when you study something closely and can see the details. It has shape, but the shape isn¡¯t perfect. It¡¯s textured. In some places, it looks like the thread has faded a bit, like old paint. In some places, it looks stronger. The color looks solid when you first look, but if you study it, there are shades and variations. The color isn¡¯t even motionless, but seems to flow through it. I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m not making much sense.¡± ¡°No, I think I get it. Can you summon a different thread?¡± ¡°Maybe. I can¡¯t guarantee it won¡¯t overwhelm me.¡± ¡°Try it. You can always stop if you find it too difficult.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Dahr let the threads leading to and from her manifest. Immediately he felt the pain and confusion of too much, so he picked a single thread and focused on it. It was the same shade of blue that he¡¯d seen connecting them, but seemed to follow her through almost the entire length of the thread. This was a major part of her life, influencing everything she did. He wasn¡¯t sure how he knew it, but it was true. He focused on the thread more closely but couldn¡¯t see images like before. Instead, he felt an emotion. Perhaps this is what Gabby had meant when she talked about feeling the threads. He momentarily shared her deep empathy for people and the pain she felt watching others suffer. He was starting to get a real sense of her character, in spite of not being able to see anything. ¡°You like to help people. When you see people who are hurting or need help, you feel the need to provide assistance. You¡¯ve felt like this for most of your life.¡± She looked startled. ¡°That¡¯s amazing.¡± ¡°It¡¯s true?¡± ¡°It is. I don¡¯t like to see people suffer.¡± He continued to go back along the thread, almost all the way to the beginning. He felt a bit guilty, like he was invading her privacy, but then, she had asked him to do it. Far back along the thread, close to where it originated from the center of her chest, he could see where that empathy came from. It wasn¡¯t a single event, but rather a series of events that happened near each other. She had gone through some upheaval in her life, and the thread showed it through texture. It had been more regular, until it started to fray. The color faded a bit too, as if the thread itself had been scraped at by a dull knife. ¡°Something happened that caused it, a long time ago, but I don¡¯t really understand. I¡¯m not that good at reading the threads yet.¡± ¡°That you can read them at all is unbelievable. I have a few things to do this morning, but later today, perhaps we can get together, and I can help you understand some of what you¡¯re seeing when you read threads.¡± ¡°I understand. You have to report to your superior about what you¡¯ve discovered.¡± Gabby¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°Why would you share that with me?¡± ¡°I trust you. You mean me no harm.¡± ¡°You know that?¡± ¡°I do. I can¡¯t explain how, but I do.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m already a bit late, so I¡¯m going to go now. You¡¯ll be okay alone?¡± ¡°Yes. I¡¯m safe here.¡± She studied him then nodded. ¡°I won¡¯t be long.¡± Gabby stood up and walked away from the cottage. As soon as she was out of sight, Dahr went inside, walked to Gabby¡¯s bedroom and stood beside Eric, who hadn¡¯t moved since he¡¯d been placed there. He had so many questions and not enough answers. ¡°George, I don¡¯t suppose you can tell me what¡¯s going on?¡± I¡¯m afraid not. I¡¯m not tethered to Eric, after all. ¡°Then maybe Sheba can tell me.¡± It¡¯s unlikely you¡¯d be able to talk to Sheba from here. Eric could if he were awake, but the brethren shield their home from the gods. If you tried to ask Sheba, she wouldn¡¯t likely be able to hear you, or at least hear you clearly. You¡¯d have to wait until you left this place. ¡°Wait¡­the brethren can keep out the gods?¡± Not completely, but enough to obscure their day to day existence. The tether circumvents it so I can talk to you here. ¡°Thanks. That gives me an idea.¡± Dahr sat down cross-legged on the floor and looked at Eric on the bed. Then he cast Thread Reader. Immediately, the world filled with multicolored threads of different thicknesses. Dahr dismissed them. He started calling up thread after thread, studying each briefly before dismissing it. It took him half an hour to find the one he was looking for. It was different from other threads he¡¯d seen. Solid gold, as if it was stronger than other threads. He put his will to it and it was as if he¡¯d flicked it with his finger. He felt rather than saw it vibrate. Something I can do for you? ¡°I¡¯m sorry to contact you this way, Sheba, but I didn¡¯t know what else to do. I¡¯m worried about Eric.¡± There¡¯s nothing to worry about. Eric is in the Plains of Xarinos, but as far as I know, he is safe. I didn¡¯t know it was possible for you to achieve a connection to me through the portion of Eric¡¯s soul still present in his body.¡± ¡°Gabby told me that a portion of the soul remains behind, but also that it contains everything that the full soul contains. I guess that¡¯s the part of us gods tether to. What do you mean as far as you know?¡± Gods can¡¯t see into the Plains of Xarinos. We¡¯ve never been able to. ¡°Does that mean the Undead King is a god?¡± He is not. That said, no one understands the unusual properties of Xarinos. ¡°Well, at least Eric is okay. Do you think the same thing that stops the gods from seeing into the Plains is the same thing that prevents Eric¡¯s soul from finding his body.¡± It is the assumption I¡¯ve been working under, but nothing is certain with Xarinos. Still, I wouldn¡¯t be too concerned. You were always meant to end up there. It just seems like your mission has changed only slightly. Now, not only are you to get there, but you must bring Eric¡¯s body with you. ¡°You think once the body is there he¡¯ll wake up again?¡± It is a working hypothesis, nothing more. But yes, I suspect that will be the case. You know, if I were you, I might not mention that you were able to contact me this way to your hosts. It¡¯s good to have an ability those around you don¡¯t know you have, strategically at least. ¡°Thanks, I won¡¯t say anything. Can you tell me where Eric was going when he was traveling?¡± I can but won¡¯t. That¡¯s Eric¡¯s to share should he decide to share it. ¡°Okay, I understand, thanks.¡± Dahr heard the door to the cottage open and felt Sheba fade away at the same moment. He canceled Thread Reader, and sat as if in meditation. ¡°I thought I heard you talking,¡± said Gabby, entering the room. ¡°Was someone else here?¡± ¡°I was attempting to contact Sheba to learn more about Eric¡¯s condition.¡± ¡°It¡¯s unlikely you¡¯ll be able to do that here. We take our privacy seriously.¡± ¡°I can understand that,¡± said Dahr. ¡°How did your meeting go?¡± If Gabby responded, Dahr didn¡¯t hear it, for at that moment, a surge of energy suffused him. Congratulations. You have reached Nexus Level 6. New skill unlocked, Waking Dreams. You won¡¯t be needing as much sleep as you used to, and you won¡¯t need sleep to dream. It¡¯s another tool in your arsenal, Dahr. I didn¡¯t expect another level so soon. You¡¯re learning more and more. I expect that the longer you stay in the Brotherhood, the faster you¡¯ll level. Striker is still a couple of weeks off, so you have plenty of time to make progress. Thanks. Hopefully I can work some of this stuff out, so I don¡¯t feel so overwhelmed. That¡¯s what your new skill is for, at least in part, though it wouldn¡¯t surprise me if you found other uses for it. I was impressed by how you managed to contact Sheba. It¡¯s starting, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m getting more powerful. This is only the beginning. You will be a force like the world has never seen. Dahr still didn¡¯t like that idea but didn¡¯t say anything. Instead, he sat and reveled in the feeling of energy coursing through his body.