ã€ŠUnfinished Beginningsã€‹


 Twinsoul: Prologue

    Within every soul there is a space reserved for what we call a godmark. Most live their entire lives without ever utilizing this space, for most gods do not deign to grant their followers such power lightly. Soulmarked individuals, those who have a connection to their deity, can directly utilize powers mere magicians cannot but envy.

    Some few, the godsouled, are born with that space already ignited, the mark of a higher power clear in their life from birth.

    While uncommon, it is not unheard-of for a godsouled to convert from one master to another. In these cases, the original godmark is superseded so completely that it may as well never have existed.

    For though they are varied in their purposes, power, and temperament, if there is one thing we can say is universally true about gods, it is that they never share space.

    -excerpt from ¡®Soulmarked¡¯ by Goro Verasithine.

    <hr>

    She noticed first the emptiness, a void within her where [??!@!?!?&?!!??] ought to reside. She reached, increasingly desperately, trying to grasp [??!?!&!@!!@??]¡¯s presence, but it was beyond her.

    Second, she noticed she was not alone. Though there was no one within, there were a great many beings all around her.

    Last, the voice, which had at first been merely a background murmur of meaningless noise, no more than an absence of silence, came into focus, and she realized that she was being addressed.

    ¡°Evari Porantot? We are sorry to interrupt your repose, but there is a matter of uncertainty in regards to your fate.¡±

    She nodded acknowledgment. Evari Uli Porantot ve [?@?@!!!!!?&??] was her name. Her repose, if that was what it could be called, had been interrupted. Naturally, there must be a question.

    Evari did not question the knowledge. Though it was new, it was also ancient and familiar.

    ¡°In examining your soul to determine your afterlife destination, there was. . . ah. . . a point of contention. Two godmarks were found within you, both strong, neither obviously first or more recent.¡±

    Images appeared in her mind, then, the dark-gleaming brand of [??@?!!@!] and the bright-vibrant tattoo of [??!!!?!?]. Each intimately familiar. Each utterly alien and unknowable.

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    ¡°Both deities claim you as their champion. Both have declined to comment further on the state of your soul. Neither will cede anything to the other. So, though it is unconventional, we have woken you to ask. Who do you truly follow? Which mark is true, and which an echo of history?¡±

    ON THIS YOU SHALL NOT SPEAK

    It wasn¡¯t a memory, not exactly; it was deeper than a memory, going back farther than her entire life. It was embedded within her being. She knew, without a hint of doubt, that to disobey was to die. Worse than die. To disobey would be unthinkable.

    Evari said nothing.

    ¡°You must answer us!¡±

    She did not answer.

    The words continued. She allowed the interrogation to fade into meaningless noise. She wasn¡¯t going to speak, so there was no reason to listen.

    But this was a mistake. The lack of distraction allowed her mind to wander, drawn inevitably back to the eternal void, the emptiness within her, the feeling of wrongness and absence and yearning and uncertainty and imbalance.

    Forsaken. Abandoned. Left alone. Directionless. Helpless.

    And she knew (relentless knowledge permeating her being even if she refused to hear the words) that all she needed to do was claim one or the other deity as her patron. Both wanted her, neither could have her. Unless she chose them.

    One word, one gesture, one indication of choice, and this could end. She could leave this purgatory of broken loneliness and go on to someone who waited to reward their champion.

    ON THIS YOU SHALL NOT SPEAK

    Helpless frustration rose within her, but she could not contravene the imposition of silence. It was a deeper part of her than her mind, deeper than memory. Soul-deep, and deeper still. If Evari Uli Porantot ve [?!!?!?@?@&?!!!?!] had a core, then those words were wrapped within it so inextricably, even tearing her body and mind and soul all apart into minuscule pieces could not excise them.

    And she was so alone. Bound to silence in a circumstance where only speaking could offer relief.

    Was this a punishment? Some twisted hell for past misdeeds?

    What had she done?

    Actual memory was restricted here in order to not influence her decision. She knew it without doubt. They required an answer based on who she was, not any individual actions in her life.

    But she would not speak, and eventually they fell silent.

    ¡°There is one contingency for such a situation, but it seems harsh and could lead to trouble for you.¡±

    The words slipped in before she could think to block them out, coming sudden on the tail of long silence.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Evari said. ¡°I cannot choose between them. Do what you must.¡±

    Would they end this? End her?

    Emptiness, void, drawing, pulling away at her sanity, at her sense of self, a pain she couldn¡¯t ignore, couldn¡¯t look away from.

    It would be a relief to vanish, to un-be. Anything was preferable to this.

    ¡°Then we grant you a trial of living. Perhaps next time you¡¯ll be less indecisive.¡±

    The sense of presences surrounding her faded, but as they did she thought she heard a quiet sigh.

    "Until next time, twinsoul."

 Second Year

    I was so excited for my first day back at magic academy, I arrived 45 minutes early. I¡¯d finally managed to navigate the trip without getting lost once, and pulled in to the familiar parking lot with all the eagerness of an outsider finally getting a chance to be included.

    My excitement was misplaced.

    Security had dramatically increased. The entrance hall was guarded by six uniformed officers, though they didn¡¯t try to stop me. Other people scurried about, and I began to worry that I was too early. The dining hall was set up for a grand event, though apart from my outsider evening class I didn¡¯t know what was going on. Maybe a welcome gala to start the new school year? But where was everyone who would be attending? The parking lot had been sparsely populated.

    Well. I put it out of my mind and found my way to the familiar corner classroom, tucked away between halls and sitting rooms. This whole wing of the building had once been a mansion, before being incorporated into the sprawling complex that curved its way around the parking area. I¡¯d never been in the other wings, and as an outsider likely never would.

    I peered in through the door, expecting an empty room, but instead it was my teacher and my classmates, deep in discussion.

    For a moment, I panicked. I glanced at the clock; no, I was still a half hour early. I hurried in, frowning, and received a glower from the teacher.

    ¡°So you finally decided to show up? What¡¯s your excuse this time? Get lost on the straight road?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± I¡¯d often taken wrong turns in the past, requiring long detours, but I¡¯d never been more than a few minutes late. ¡°When did the time change?¡±

    ¡°You think your class is the only one that matters? That you¡¯re entitled to a dedicated time slot?¡± he shook his head. ¡°Sit down. If you want to try to change your allocation, the token is there.¡±

    I swallowed an angry ¡®But no one told me!¡¯ and forced myself to stay silent. Explanations were no use here. I¡¯d only make myself look worse.

    The token lay in the center of the table, an oval the size of both my thumbs and made of some thick paper board material. The top showing side was white, the bottom would manifest a colour appropriate to the branch of magic the student was best suited for.

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    I glanced around. Only four of my former classmates had returned, and there were no newcomers.

    Two blues, a purple, and a green. I was the only red. Force. Destruction. Violence.

    I seized the token and held it, wiling it to turn purple. I wanted to be an elementalist generalist, not a fighter.

    Not a weapon.

    I tossed it into the air. It spun downward in a lazy flutter, landing in the center of the table. Even I couldn¡¯t argue that the faint discoloration at its edge, like a pale waterstain, indicated anything but solid red.

    ¡°So no change then. Unsurprising. Sit.¡±

    I sat, feeling dejected and discouraged. Toward the end of last year I¡¯d earned a rare eccentric spell. The illusion mask let me visually change my spells to appear as something other than what they were. I¡¯d hoped dabbling in light magic would let my alignment shift. No such luck.

    The lesson proceeded badly. I¡¯d missed half of it, and this was no review. They¡¯d already moved on to concepts which I struggled to place, let alone understand.

    Once the lesson was over, I hung back instead of leaving immediately as was my habit. I had to ask for Lavern¡¯s notes. As the most dedicated outsider student here, he regularly outstripped me by a significant margin.

    Before I could ask, he beckoned for me to follow him and slipped down a dark hall and up a forgotten set of steps onto a balcony overlooking what had once been an atrium but now had been repurposed into a crossroad. Doors had been removed so halls met smoothly and diverged beneath us.

    Lavern gestured me to silence and crouched by the balustrade overlooking the crossing. The lights in this section had been dimmed for the night, leaving him in shadow. I tried to speak, but he gestured me to silence and pointed downward.

    Beneath, nothing stirred. We waited in silence.

    Then Etria, one of our classmates, came skulking along, looking over her shoulder as though worried about being followed.

    What was she doing?

    Lavern started making soft taps with his hand against the floor, and Etria flinched and spun around, searching. She¡¯d always been so cold and stoic, it was strangely gratifying to see her afraid.

    I joined in, summoning tiny flames in a circle around her, painting them with illusions of floating candles in what I thought was a properly sinister display.

    Lavern sat shaking with silent laughter as he struggled to continue his somewhat uneven rhythm. I couldn¡¯t help it and giggled aloud.

    I hadn¡¯t anticipated how sinister my voice could sound. Perhaps it was the candles and the atmosphere, but it was the last straw. Etria screamed and ran.

    Then Lavern and I were both laughing uproariously, only making token attempts to moderate our volume.

    ¡°Was that you?¡± he asked. ¡°You can conjure?¡±

    ¡°Illusion. I was hoping¡ª¡±

    That¡¯s when the teacher arrived.

 Rent-A-World Online (Prologue)

    The world was dying. Everyone could see it. The Life-Quest had gone unfinished for too long, the obstacles insurmountable, the foes too numerous. Every hero who dared to try returned in dejected failure - the few who survived long enough to return.

    The world was dying, the mother-roots growing thin and dry, the sky-trunk turning grey and wan, and no one could do anything about it. The Great Dark had seen to it. His tendrils grew thick and fat while the mother-roots faded. His champions slew heroes by the dozens and enslaved the towns those heroes died trying in vain to protect. The Great Dark slithered across the world, sapping its strength to feed himself, as his own sky-trunk began to grow heavenward.

    The world was dying, and with its death a new world of darkness and despair would be birthed. From this world¡¯s death would be born a power to threaten all the worlds, everywhere the Great Dark''s new sky-trunk could reach. There existed no power, no hero, no land in all the world strong enough to stop it.

    The world was dying. There was nothing left to lose.

    In a room in a castle there sat The Council. The First Council, The Final Council. They met for the one and only time in a kingdom far to the motherward, nestled just beneath the sky-trunk with its shadow casting the room in darkness; they met with mage-light and life-water and stone-glow to light their way; they met with desperation in their hearts and resignation upon their lips.

    After three weeks of arguing, of debating, of discussion both friendly and bitter, the room had at long last fallen silent.

    ¡°Then, the time has come,¡± said the merling representative of the Free Lands of the Seas, finally breaking the long silence. She did not speak with firmness or any drama, but shamefully, as one would admit a betrayal to a lover. ¡°We must sign the contract. There is no other course left to us.¡±

    They all knew it - why else would they have gathered here? - but each felt quietly relieved not to be the one to voice it.

    The councilman of the Central Dominion spoke next, his voice lacking its usual booming stridency, as though he too were ashamed.

    ¡°I have brought the key.¡± And he drew it forth from beneath his shirt, a black key edged in blue light somehow made solid, holding it out like a venomous thing that would strike at him if he were careless.

    The Queen of Highsilver Court stood, her pale face even paler than usual as she reached across the table. Her hand trembled only a moment, only withdrew a fraction, but all saw it and commiserated with her plight. To be the one whose hand unleashed chaos upon the world was a fate none envied.

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    ¡°The terms have been written,¡± spoke the Highsilver Queen, her voice tremulous. ¡°Does any wish to alter them before the contract is sealed?¡±

    ¡°The Manywoods are satisfied with the terms,¡± said the night-elf representative of Manywoods.

    ¡°The Central Dominion is satisfied with the terms,¡± said their councilman, his voice a bit stronger now.

    ¡°The Holy Empire is satisfied with the terms,¡± said the lightling priest bitterly, as though the words burned his throat.

    ¡°The Free Lands of the Seas are satisfied with the terms.¡±

    ¡°The Conclave of the Forgotten is satisfied with the terms.¡±

    ¡°The Restless Riders are satisfied with the terms.¡±

    ¡°High Ridge is satisfied with the terms.¡±

    ¡°The Forgotten are satisfied with the terms.¡±

    ¡°And Highsilver Court is satisfied with the terms,¡± said their queen. She drew a long breath, then turned and strode with regal solemnity toward the Box resting on its pillar by the wall.

    The Box bore little resemblance to anything in their world, its edges made of lines of blue light and its walls invisible planes that warped the world seen through them.

    She placed the key into the lock, and turned it. The box sprang open. The Contract appeared in the air above it as though written in magelight. The letters were foreign and strange, but the meaning imprinted itself into the mind of any who saw it.

    If you are in need, true and desperate need, of heroes at any cost, then we can help. This help comes with a price. Once you open your world to our heroes, it cannot be undone. They will save you, but we cannot control them.

    List the criteria for success in the window below, and it will be transmitted to our heroes upon arrival. What they do from that point on is out of our hands. We will continue sending them until your criteria have been met. Upon completion, they will be given the option to leave or remain. This is a non-negotiable part of the contract on our end, so stop asking us to change it.

    Rent-A-World Online will not be held responsible for any looting, assassination, mayhem, wanton slaughter, destruction of property, or any other action taken by contracted heroes. Some restrictions apply, not available in all multiverses. For full details contact us at our main office¡­. at which point it degenerated into a truly incomprehensible jumble of numbers and letters.

    The Highsilver Queen reverently placed their final draft of the Contract within the glowing box of light, and a new paragraph of indecipherable text appeared beneath the others.

    Quest Criteria:

    Complete the Life-Quest.

    Save the world.

    Revive the mother-roots.

    Protect the lands and people of Highsilver Court, High Ridge, The Restless Riders, The Free Lands of the Seas, The Forgotten, Manywoods, The Holy Empire, and the Central Dominion.

    Destroy the Great Dark.

    Are you sure you wish to submit this quest contract? Once submitted, the terms cannot be changed!

    The Queen of Highsilver Court looked back one final time to those seated at the council table, her hand hovering above the word ¡®YES¡¯ floating in the air.

    They nodded.

    She pressed down.

    The world was dying. But now, perhaps, it could be saved.

    <hr>

 Phoenixborn Savior

    The first time Miala encountered Iychronil - the ice-blood phoenix, eternally-reborn savior of all realms and dominions - he lay huddled beneath an overhang on the verge of death, frantically channeling his magic into intermittent bursts of frost-white healing light while from above a madly-cackling cultist fired bolts of rust-hued fire down upon the blood-soaked man. It was obvious he wouldn¡¯t last much longer. His blood drenched the ground around him and his clothes had been torn to shreds. He must have been holding on for long minutes, his power just enough to stave off death a little longer.

    Miala crouched lower into the shadows, smoothly drawing her bow and sighting at the mad cultist. He wore the mottled brown robes of Vethys, the many-faced god of decay and destruction, wielding his unholy flames to burn any who crossed his path. Vethys did nothing to rein in his followers, leaving them to rampage across the world as they saw fit, bringing death wantonly and without reason.

    Miala hated them. But she also feared them. While the blood-soaked stranger had magic to heal himself, she had no such ability. Once she attracted the cultist¡¯s attention she¡¯d become a target.

    She moved as quickly as she dared, wanting to save the poor victim, but unwilling to risk her own life. After all, it wouldn¡¯t help anyone if they were both dead.

    The cultist paused after every fifth bolt, taking three breaths to replenish his own power before launching a new barrage. These pauses also gave the dying man a chance to recover his own energy, probably the only reason he hadn¡¯t already succumbed.

    But more importantly, it was predictable. The cultist would straighten slightly as he readied himself to attack, then lean forward to target his cowering victim.

    She lined up her shot, waited for just the right moment, then released. The arrow flew true, skewering the cultist through the eye. As he screamed and flailed back, Miala fired again. This time, the arrow bit deep into the cultist¡¯s chest, and he dropped to the ground, convulsing as he tried in vain to call on his destructive god for healing. He hadn¡¯t sufficient strength to draw on a power so opposite his own alignment, and soon expired.

    Grinning with relief, Miala jumped down and ran to the injured man.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked, though she could see he was. His frost-white healing power covered him entirely, renewing his body until it was a picture of health.

    She held out a hand to help him up, but he glared at her and leapt to his feet, then punched her in the face.

    Miala reeled back, shocked.

    ¡°What did you do that for?¡± the stranger demanded.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I should say! I just saved your life!¡± She held a hand to her smarting face. He was strong. She was lucky he hadn¡¯t broken her nose or cheekbone with that hit.

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    ¡°You ruined everything! Do you know how hard it is to find someone just the right strength, who¡¯s crazy enough to stand shooting senseless attacks for days on end?¡±

    Miala gaped at him in disbelief. ¡°What.¡±

    He threw his hands in the air, then spun away without answering.

    ¡°Wait, what?¡± Miala only stood shocked for a moment, then ran after him. ¡°Wait, you should come back to the village. Even if you¡¯re healed, you need clothing. Food.¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m fine. At least as fine as I can be after you just ruined half a day¡¯s work and weeks of preparation.¡±

    ¡°It almost sounds like you wanted that cultist to murder you,¡± Miala snapped, her temper finally overriding her confusion.

    The stranger scoffed dismissively. ¡°Please. I was doing just fine. He couldn¡¯t have hurt me unless I let him.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ you let him keep burning you? On purpose?¡±

    ¡°Well, how else am I going to train Healing Frost?¡±

    Miala stopped walking and stared after the strange man, as he strode firmly away from her. She¡¯d entirely forgotten to ask his name, but decided she didn¡¯t need to bother. Clearly he was completely insane, and would get himself killed sooner or later no matter how she tried to help him. Her thoughts lingered on him for a long minute, torn between trying to force him to come back to the village with her, or just walk away and leave the idiot to his idiocy.

    In the end, she realized that she probably couldn¡¯t force him to do anything if she tried. He was larger than her, stronger than her, and had magic powerful enough to heal himself fully within a minute after being on the brink of death. So, reluctantly, she turned away and returned to her hunt.

    The second time Miala met Iychronil, she didn¡¯t recognize him as the same strange madman. This time he wore frost-white plate armor, alight with green and gold symbols of power, and strode into their village leading a horse burdened with more bulging sacks, armor sets, and sundry other goods strapped to its sides than Miala had ever seen in one place. He stopped briefly to speak with each citizen, asking if they were interested in purchasing any goods, leading Miala to believe he was some traveling merchant.

    ¡°And you, young woman, would you care to¡ª¡° the merchant broke off, tilting his head. ¡°Wait. You¡¯re that stupid hunter girl!¡±

    Miala recoiled. ¡°Excuse me? I am not stupid.¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re definitely the one who mucked up my healing training.¡± He shook his head. ¡°But, whatever. I better get a discount for it. Want to buy anything?¡±

    ¡°No, thank you,¡± Miala said stiffly, still offended.

    ¡°Oh, come on. You owe me.¡± He leaned forward, amethyst necklace glinting. ¡°Just buy one thing. Anything you want.¡±

    Miala couldn¡¯t shake the sudden deep certainty that he was right. Even if her interpretation of events didn''t match up with his, she had interfered with his life. ¡°I think I have a few gold saved up,¡± she said, eying his collection of goods. ¡°Let me see what you¡¯ve got.¡±

    And suddenly, he was taking off his helmet and smiling at her like they were old friends, and she knew everything was forgiven. She led the way to her house, where she collected her savings and then they spent hours going over everything in his inventory, haggling over costs. She had some possessions he was interested in, it turned out, so they bartered back and forth a while over a few of her trophies and other miscellaneous goods she had around the place.

    When he finally left, she blinked at the collection of pots and baskets she¡¯d somehow traded everything she owned for with the uncertainty of one shocked to sobriety after a hazy night of drinking.

    She still didn¡¯t even know whose name she should be cursing for all eternity by gods above and below.

    Nor would she learn it until their third encounter; the encounter when it was his turn to save her life, where everything truly began.

    <hr>

 The Dark Lords Son

    ¡°C¡¯mon dad, can¡¯t we play Kick the Goblin today?¡±

    Maladarg the Merciless tilted his head, considering his son, then the itinerary for the remainder of the day. He had a hero due in about five hours, a rousing speech to give his dark force before sending them out to subjugate the third island kingdom of the south, and a princess to kidnap.

    But Zeloykak knew exactly how to smile, half hopeful, half resigned, his eyebrows tilted just right. His father couldn¡¯t deny that smile anything.

    Maladarg tapped a quick spell into the moondial and nodded. ¡°Only for a few minutes, Daddy has to get ready for another hero.¡±

    Zel grinned and scampered over toward the goblin pits. There were a few dozen whelplings there today, crawling slowly around as they tried to accustom themselves to their flabby limbs.

    Maladarg didn¡¯t actually know the rules to ¡®Kick the Goblin¡¯ - Zel changed them every time. But the basic principles were the same. When spooked, infant goblins would curl up tighter than a caterpillar, making them ideally suited to roll around like lopsided balls across the floor. Their tough hides and minimal memory spans meant that, though this had been occurring for several goblin generations now, Maladarg had noticed no long-term ill effects from the game.

    Zel ran from one goblin brood to the next, giggling as he bopped each baby to make them curl up. Maladarg began slowly nudging them toward his son, watching them roll across the packed dirt of the ground. Zel ran back and forth to return them, and soon they had three or four in perpetual movement across the open space between them.

    Several of the others uncurled themselves after being overlooked for several minutes, and slowly crawled back to their broods.

    Finally, the moondial sent out a bright pulse of light, and Maladarg realized they¡¯d been playing for nearly the whole morning.

    ¡°Oh, I have to go. We¡¯ll pick this up next week.¡±

    ¡°Can I go with you?¡± Zel dropped his goblin and looked up pleadingly. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a hero before.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re terrible and evil beings who would kill you as soon as look at you,¡± Maladarg warned.

    ¡°But I¡¯m older now. I can handle it!¡±

    Maladarg chuckled. ¡°If you want to come, I have three conditions.¡± He crouched down to look his son in the eyes, and Zel stilled, his usual exuberance fading as he realized the import of the moment.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he said quietly.

    ¡°First, you stay hidden. No matter what happens. You stay out of sight, and you don¡¯t make a sound. Understand?¡±

    Zel nodded, putting both hands over his mouth.

    Maladarg smiled. ¡°Second, if you feel any sun magic, you run. Go through the secret tunnel and seal it behind you. If you even *think* you feel it, you run. It¡¯s easier to reopen the tunnels than replace you.¡±

    Zel nodded, eyes growing even wider.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you understand how serious this is. Heroes are not to be taken lightly.¡±

    ¡°And third?¡± Zel asked, his voice muffled by his hands.

    ¡°Third, you are not to open any of your power. I will be using mine at full strength. Any distraction could mean your death, my death, or both. Keep your control firm. No matter what happens. Even if I¡¯m killed. Even if you have to flee. Do not open your power until the heroes are long gone. Got it?¡±

    Zel nodded fearfully. For a moment, Maladarg thought - hoped - he might have abandoned the idea. But his son was as stubborn as he. As brave and unwavering.

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    He reached out and hugged the boy, who returned the gesture with all the strength in his little arms.

    ¡°But you¡¯ll be alright, won¡¯t you Daddy?¡± Zel whispered.

    ¡°Of course. And if they do kill me, I¡¯ll meet you in the secret room I showed you. Just don¡¯t let anyone follow you.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Then come. We must find you a place to hide.¡±

    The heroes arrived shortly thereafter, arrayed in the usual motley collection of enchanted and salvaged gear, weapons gleaming with powerlight.

    Maladarg sat upon his throne to welcome them, enhancements in place to expand his image to far greater stature than the unimpressive reality.

    ¡°Welcome, heroes. I¡¯ve heard many a tale of your exploits. Have you come to partake of the hospitality I offer?¡±

    He gestured to the ready-laden dinner table, carefully filled with a selection of each hero¡¯s favourite foods. They didn¡¯t often take him up on the invitation, but he¡¯d found it tended to shake their confidence each time and so continued the tradition.

    The ranger shifted her grip on her bow, arrow still pointed flawlessly at his heart. Or the heart of his giant image. In reality, it would fly several feet over his head, and spear through only the black curtains which covered the windows.

    ¡°We¡¯re here to avenge Geralda and the people of Farmburg!¡± proclaimed the youngest swordsman. ¡°I will smite you, vile villain!¡±

    Ah, another ¡®Chosen One¡¯. They tended to show up every few years, convinced that just because they found their grandfather¡¯s old sword or grandmother¡¯s spellbook they could slay the emperor of the world.

    Maladarg laughed, the sound harsh and ominous, the acoustics of his reception chamber amplifying it and echoing it until it seemed to come at the heroes from every angle.

    It had taken him days to work it out just right. Well worth the effort.

    ¡°None has lived who tried,¡± Maladarg proclaimed. ¡°You are a fool and a child. Depart now, and I will not seek retribution for your folly. Remain, and you suffer the same fate as your friends.¡±

    ¡°We stand together,¡± said the dwarf, setting his shield before him and glowering. ¡°And your end has come.¡±

    Maladarg frowned. That dwarf looked familiar. ¡°Have we met?¡± he asked, leaning forward until he seemed to loom over the party. ¡°Did I kill your father or something?¡±

    ¡°Nay, my brother,¡± the dwarf growled. ¡°And today he shall be avenged!¡±

    ¡°Well. Today you¡¯ll join him in whatever dwarfish afterlife may exist,¡± Maladarg said, leaning back in his throne.

    ¡°Nay, he was an Oronite, and I follow Savarsus. There will be no reunion.¡±

    Maladarg shrugged, dark power springing up from every corner of the room. ¡°It matters not to me. Flee now, or die.¡±

    They didn¡¯t flee.

    As he¡¯d expected, this team was powerful and experienced. Their only weak point was the kid from Farmburg, who flailed about with his blue-glowing sword as though expecting enemies to run straight at him. Maladarg quickly disabused him of the idea and removed the sword from his possession. Along with his arm.

    That was when things started to go downhill.

    The sword landed with a clatter - right outside where Zeloykak hid. Forgetting his promise to stay out of sight, he inched out just enough to grab the sword and drag it into his hiding place with him.

    It would have gone unremarked, but the farmer boy had already started toward it, intent on retrieving his heirloom relic.

    ¡°There¡¯s something hiding there!¡± the ¡®Chosen One¡¯ screamed, pointing. Before Maladarg could react, arrows and spells shifted targets and flew toward his son¡¯s concealment. He could sense Zel, frozen in fear, clutching the stolen sword and definitely not running for his life.

    Without hesitation, Maladarg threw himself into the path of the oncoming missiles, dropping all illusions and control spells, channeling everything into slowing time around him and moving himself through the air as fast as inhumanly possible.

    ¡°RUN, ZEL!¡± he bellowed, as the combine efforts of the party slammed into him and threw him against the wall.

    But Zel wasn¡¯t moving. He still sat frozen.

    Another volley of arrows and spells. Maladarg drew on his dark power and pushed it out, sending the concealing curtain flying, knocking Zel over with its force.

    ¡°I said RUN!¡±

    It was enough. Sobbing, Zel turned and fled down the hidden passage, slamming his hand against the failsafe trigger to initiate the tunnel¡¯s collapse.

    Satisfied, Maladarg returned his attention to the heroes around him. He was sealed, now, his power locked by their mage. Sunlight flooded through the now-open curtains, dissipating even the shadows he already held. Arrows continued to fly from their rangers in steady rhythm, pinning his cloak to his gaunt frame.

    ¡°Izh thith nethetherith?¡± he slurred, finding words difficult through the arrows through his lungs.

    ¡°You have met your match,¡± quavered the ¡®Chosen One¡¯, drawing a sigilblade dagger and approaching while the others covered him.

    ¡°Only this time,¡± Maladarg said, managing a sinister smile between wet coughs. ¡°But you¡¯ve also made an enemy today, boy. I wonder, that Blade of the Chosen. Who was its true intended recipient?¡±

    The hero snarled, and sliced off Maladarg¡¯s head.

    Zeloykak waited in the hidden room, pacing beside the circle. Darkness surrounded him utterly, darkness more complete and impenetrable than stone.

    The blade still clutched in his hands glowed blacker still.

    <hr>

 Parsley Is Not Dead

    Parsley was not a ghost. Everyone said she was, but she stoutly denied it. So when the orc at table 5 screamed ¡®GET ME SOMEONE WHO ISN¡¯T DEAD!¡¯ Parsley shouted right back. With perhaps a few too many equally offensive slurs thrown in. Yeah, now that the moment had passed, she realized she probably shouldn¡¯t have said at least one or two of those things.

    Perhaps it was stupid, perhaps it was brave, perhaps she¡¯d just had enough. But if she had to take one more bit of guff from the moron, she¡¯d have lost her mind.

    Or maybe she did lose her mind already, sometime in the past, around the time she definitely didn¡¯t die and instead gained the ability to phase through solid objects. Because she was an amazing wizard, not because she was dead!

    ¡°Miss Parsley, table five wants to know if you can guarantee that the Steak Supreme has not been exposed to any vegetable or fungi?¡±

    ¡°NO! I cannot! The Steak Supreme is cooked in vegetables, and served with mushrooms on top. It is in the description. There is a picture!¡±

    The living person - who was certainly no more living than Parsley herself - wilted a bit, and she forced herself to take a brief calming breath. ¡°Ask if he¡¯d like it with extra mushrooms, instead of the elf-lettuce.¡±

    ¡°But, we don¡¯t serve elf-lettuce steak--¡±

    Parsley grinned. ¡°Exactly.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    When the customer later had a near-fatal allergic reaction to the fungi, Parsley had her excuses lined up so thoroughly that, if she hadn¡¯t been seen having a violently aggressive altercation with the fellow a few minutes earlier, she might even have gotten away with it.

    But ¡®attempted murder¡¯ was a much more fireable offence than ¡®screaming¡¯ so that¡¯s how she found herself, once again, jobless on the street.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why everyone is so sensitive,¡± Parsley huffed as she floated along the nearly-abandoned street. ¡°One little carefully-orchestrated accident and that''s it¡­¡±

    Then she reached the end of the road and hovered uncertainly. Any further and she¡¯d be in their territory. The aberrations. They¡¯d claimed a small section on the outskirts of town and begun buying up the places at ridiculous prices - how such a tiny group of such strange creatures had accumulated so much wealth Parsley would never know.

    But she needed work. Needed money herself to fund her experiments. Aberrations may be freaky as a failed potion, but they paid well.

    She drifted sideways unconsciously, embedding all but her face into the nearest wall so she could peer out from relative safety. Walls felt so warm and cozy, like being wrapped in a blanket. Not like floors. They had a spikiness to them, too much pressure, too heavy. Floors wanted you to move. Walls, they were content for you to linger. Ceilings¡­ ceilings had their own personalities. Some would suck you in, so desperate for company, and it would be hard to pull yourself away. Some were very serious about their job of keeping things out, and would bounce you off almost as well as another person.

    Parsley floated upwards a bit, just to test out this ceiling, since she was in the vicinity. It wasn¡¯t aggressive, wasn¡¯t welcoming, just bland and uncaring. Like it was asleep. She gave it a comforting pat, then took a deep breath and started forward into the aberration territory.

    Time to meet the earthers.

    <hr>

 Spiritless

    Nenna 1

    <hr>

    Nenna sat tracing familiar symbols on the ground, her finger leaving trails in the glittering white dust. The glyphs came easily to her, perfect and precise, each linking smoothly into the next until they formed a complete circle. She stood, looking down at them with a familiar mix of pride and loathing.

    ¡°If anyone needs an example of the flameshield glyphs drawn correctly, you may check your work against Nenna¡¯s.¡±

    Lissa hadn''t even bothered to check, remaining at her place at the front of the group. Her smile was purely obligatory and Nenna could practically feel the condescension pouring off her like heat waves.

    Nenna wondered what would happen if one day she drew them all wrong, just to spite her former classmate. But she lowered her eyes, saying nothing, instead checking over her work critically.

    Just this once, let it work.

    While the remainder of the much younger class struggled to form their glyphs correctly, Nenna stood looking down at her circle in deep concentration. Technically, no one was supposed to start charging their spells until Lissa gave the go-ahead, but Nenna was something of an exception.

    It took no effort to locate her inner spark. It flickered within her, sputtering like a dying ember. Barely strong enough to sustain her life, much less power a spell, yet she tried anyway.

    She stared at the glyphs she¡¯d drawn, her mind automatically translating them. Fire, glow, brightness, solidity, protection. Together, the fireshield spell.

    ¡°Activate,¡± she whispered, hand held over the circle of symbols, fingers spread at exact angles. Her inner spark flickered, but nothing happened.

    She felt Lissa watching her, judging her, but the teacher didn¡¯t say anything about her attempt to jump ahead in the lesson. After all, so long as Nenna continued to fail she hadn¡¯t technically broken any rules.

    ¡°Activate!¡± she kept her voice low so as not to distract the other students, but was unable to control the note of desperation in her voice.

    Nothing.

    Again.

    As usual.

    Half an hour later, the last of the children finished their crude drawings of the spell and stood ready to cast.

    ¡°Good. Now, hold your hands like this. Fingers spread evenly, thumb pointed directly upward. Try it now. I¡¯ll adjust your stance if necessary. Remember to keep your hand directly above your spell circle.¡±

    Nenna had switched to using her right hand in case that made a difference. It hadn¡¯t mattered before. It didn¡¯t change anything now.

    Lissa didn¡¯t even glance at her as she worked her way around the room. They both knew Nenna¡¯s form wasn¡¯t the problem.

    ¡°Activate,¡± she whispered.

    Nothing.

    She sighed and withdrew her hand, stretching and relaxing her fingers to ease the strain of holding the stance for so long. Then she flicked through the followup gestures, mentally measuring to be sure they were all exact.

    The last thing she needed was for the spell to finally activate, only to leave her unable to control it.

    ¡°Good," Lissa said. "Now, connect to your spark while keeping your mind focused on the spell you¡¯ve drawn. Aeyess, lift your hand higher; remember, you need to have a clear view of your glyphs.¡±

    Nenna returned to her left hand, holding it above her flameshield spell, and reached once again for her inner spark.

    ¡°Now, pull that power through the circle and into your hand.¡±

    Faint firelight glows began to appear as one after another the students drew their power into reality. Power shimmered around them, their auras thinning out as their power stretched.

    Nenna¡¯s circle remained lifeless as ever. She strained to form the elusive connection between her inner spark and the spell she¡¯d drawn so perfectly, but it worked exactly as well today as it had for the past twenty years. Not at all.

    Then only her circle remained dark, and Lissa moved on smoothly without acknowledging her.

    ¡°Now, together with me, activate!¡±

    ¡°ACTIVATE!¡±

    Circles flared in unison as the spell burst to life. Power spun around them in loops with various degrees of strength and clarity. Nenna¡¯s heart leapt with the same thrill she always felt when watching magic that worked properly, even as envy burned at her throat.

    Lissa guided the class through the final steps, expanding their thin loops into full shields. Most students failed before the end, their hands clumsy, minds untrained, and sparks fickle. Only two managed to maintain the spell the entire time. Nenna knew they would be remembered, given special attention, and fast-tracked to summon. After all, what wizard wouldn¡¯t want a young prodigy for his spirit?

    Nenna forlornly reached down to flatten the glittering white back over her glyph as the class ended and Lissa dismissed the students. Her former classmate didn¡¯t so much as glance Nenna¡¯s way as she set about restoring the learning grounds to their original state, gathering up the spent dulldust where each student had stood.

    ¡°Any news on open summons?¡± Nenna asked, breaking the silence.

    Lissa didn¡¯t look up from her tidying and her aura didn¡¯t even flicker. ¡°One hour.¡±

    Nenna frowned. That didn¡¯t leave much time to get over to the summoning grounds. ¡°Are you not going?¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you know? I¡¯m bound now. Tomorrow is my last class.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Congratulations.¡±

    Lissa waved it off, still not looking at Nenna.

    ¡°I may not be here after tomorrow either,¡± Nenna said, projecting more confidence than she felt.

    Lissa didn¡¯t reply, the awkward attempt at camaraderie falling flat.

    ¡°We may meet in the mortal realm someday soon,¡± Nenna continued.

    ¡°We¡¯ll meet right here tomorrow for water infusion.¡±

    ¡°Right. But I may not bother. I mean, I know all this already.¡±

    ¡°Attendance is required until a student is able to correctly perform the material,¡± Lissa said, in the exact same tone of forced patience she always used.

    ¡°I can form every spell just fine.¡±

    ¡°No. You can draw them. That¡¯s not the same thing.¡±

    I know that. You don¡¯t have to be so cold about it. ¡°Well, I¡¯d better hurry if I want to be on time for the summoning. ¡®Bye, Lissa.¡±

    Nenna didn¡¯t wait for Lissa¡¯s cursory response, but sprinted away from the training grounds and toward the distant golden gleam of the summoning grounds.

    The pale cream sky flickered with white streaks of lightning sizzling and chasing each other eternally across its endless dome. Nenna had heard stories of the mortal world, where the sky was blue and white, the ground covered with living things, but she couldn¡¯t imagine it.

    As she ran, the sparkling ground beneath her feet transitioned gradually from the pure white of the practice grounds, through the plain yellow of unusable dulldust, to the bright gold of overcharged summoning dust.

    Nenna dragged her feet as she entered the golden patch, scuffing her shoes against the ground harshly enough that she felt the grating irritant of the dust slip inside, rubbing uncomfortably against her feet. She ignored the sensation and continued toward the wide circle where dozens of her fellow spirits waited for the summon to begin.

    Nearly all of them were younger than Nenna. Lissa had been one of the last of her own peer group to form a summon-bond, and now she too would be moving on.

    Then, surprised, Nenna noticed two much older spirits standing in the lineup. And ones she recognized.

    Akhal, tall and thick-limbed, had been her favourite teacher in her youth. Rohiin. . . not so much. Shorter, with a perpetually cold aura, Rohiin seemed to notice nothing but the flaws in anything or anyone he encountered. She never understood what Akhal saw in the dour grump, and she¡¯d been glad Rohiin only taught occasional advanced classes - she¡¯d heard enough stories to know she wanted to have nothing to do with him, and was glad when he left in her second training year. At the time she¡¯d still assumed she could overcome this crippling disability to use her spark and might eventually qualify for advanced training herself. Now she knew better.

    ¡°Akhal!¡± Nenna called, walking toward the duo. ¡°Come back to visit?¡±

    Akhal turned with a smile. ¡°Nenna! Look at you, all grown up. What brings you here today?¡±

    Nenna gestured at the massive circle drawn with intricate precision, and the spirits standing around it waiting. ¡°Summon, yeah?¡±

    Akhal¡¯s smile brightened, purple light flickering threads of happiness through his aura. ¡°Then you solved your instability problem! How? I feared it would be a permanent condition.¡±

    Nenna grimaced. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say solved.¡±

    Rohiin glanced over at her, his eyes glowing white with his signature deepvision. Nenna flinched as his expression flattened.

    ¡°I think she¡¯s actually gotten worse.¡± Rohiin turned to glower at her. ¡°If you keep straining yourself you¡¯ll end up extinguished. Why haven¡¯t you given up on being a summon and taken over teaching yet? It¡¯s the one thing you¡¯d be good at.¡±

    His words felt like a slap. Nenna¡¯s barely-suppressed emotions flared up in an instant. ¡°I don¡¯t want to spend the rest of my existence watching everyone else do what I can¡¯t! I¡¯m going to the mortal realm, just like you.¡±

    Rohiin scoffed. ¡°If any wizard will have you. And I promise you, no one will. They look for power, first and foremost.¡±

    ¡°Then what are you doing back here?" Nenna retorted. "You with your extra special doublespark, aren¡¯t you popular enough yet?¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Our wizard was killed,¡± Akhal said without particular inflection, but sadness dimmed his aura with clouds of brown.

    Nenna immediately regretted her outburst. ¡°Oh,¡± she managed. She scuffed her feet deeper into the golden dust. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°I told him not to mess with the infernal plane, but he ignored my warnings,¡± Rohiin spat. ¡°We weren¡¯t enough for him, he had to go summoning darkspirits, and see where it got him?¡±

    Nenna shivered and glanced around warily. ¡°They didn¡¯t follow you, did they?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re not so careless as that,¡± Akhal reassured her. ¡°The darkspirits were bound and banished before we were recalled.¡±

    Rohiin shook his head. ¡°Barely. If not for¡ª¡±

    A brilliant cascade of light interrupted, drawing everyone''s attention. Nenna hastily took a place by the edge of the now-glowing circle.

    Blues and greens, so out of place in this world of fire and power and sand, flared up with an unreal vibrancy.

    A wave of pressure flared out from the circle and pushed everyone backward. Nenna fought to keep her balance and several of the younger attendees were blown over entirely. This must be an unusually powerful wizard, if the link had this much force to it.

    Nenna gathered herself, ready to spring forward the moment the initial pressure eased, but in the midst of the chaos Akhal and Rohiin stepped forward together, crossing the boundary of the circle as though the inexorable force pushing them away didn¡¯t exist. Before anyone else had even recovered enough to stand steadily, the circle flared one final time then winked out, the duo gone.

    ¡°That was too fast,¡± someone commented.

    ¡°I never even got a chance,¡± complained another.

    Nenna didn¡¯t say anything. She should have realized the moment she saw those two that no one else stood a chance. She turned away from the now-white departure circle and set out in the opposite direction from the training area, across the dull plains, toward the distant marker that she¡¯d claimed as her own.

    The markers were the only thing that showed any variation in the endless flat landscape of glittering powerdust in its varied hues. This particular one marked a spot that had been abandoned eight years ago after they¡¯d exhausted all the stored magical potential of the area¡¯s powerdust.

    No one else had a reason to venture into the powerless lands. But that only made the location more ideal for Nenna and her plan.

    She sat down and carefully removed her shoes, pouring out the golden dust into her hands, then carried it to where she had her own circle. She paced around the outside, careful not to drop a single grain of the charged powerdust, inspecting the custom summon circle she¡¯d been working on for over a decade.

    Identical to the main circle in its interior, but different in its framing, her circle would perform something simultaneously similar and opposite to its traditional counterpart.

    Where their circle allowed wizards to call spirits to them on the mortal plane, this circle should send her to the mortal plane without needing to wait for a wizard¡¯s call.

    In theory.

    Nenna had done as much research as possible, understood every nuance of the glyphs she¡¯d chosen, linked them together in the ideal order and with the utmost care, but it was still untested and unproven.

    She adjusted a few lines, adding a little of her precious overcharged powerdust, then gave it one final inspection. Complete.

    Well, all but one thing.

    She traced out one more section with the last of her dust: a lead-in to the spell proper. Since she couldn¡¯t activate spells herself, she¡¯d found this workaround. It was slower and less controlled, but required nothing from her. It would channel ambient power from the surroundings, gathering and dispersing it through the circle.

    Then she stepped back to watch and wait.

    Unlike the near-instant activation of a smaller spell, the circle¡¯s charge would take minutes even if activated directly. Relying on ambient magic, unable to coax even the slightest help from her faint inner spark. . .

    Minutes dragged into hours. Nenna leaned against the marker stone as she waited, glancing back toward the settlement every few minutes in case anyone cared enough to follow her.

    No one did. They were occupied with their own lives, their own plans.

    Hours passed. The steady glow began to shift from the plain white-gold of unattuned power toward the blue-green of the mortal plane. Nenna leaned forward eagerly, but the waiting wasn¡¯t over.

    Gradually, the blue energy cycled through the entire complex circle from its origin point until it reached the center, then shifted to a greener hue as it spread back out. Nenna began to feel the outward pressure of the atmospheric differences between the planes, and eagerly stepped forward.

    Each step proved harder than the last, but finally she crossed the edge of the vibrantly-glowing circle and the pressure inverted, shoving her forcefully into the circle¡¯s exact center. She stood, expectant. Ready to finally see firsthand what the other side of the gate would be like.

    Force continued to build around her. The glow shone out like a beacon. If anyone looked her way it would be obvious something was happening. But by the time anyone got here she planned to be long gone and any evidence of her circle faded back to dulldust.

    Between the external pressure of the spell and her internal excitement, Nenna thought she might burst.

    But it wasn¡¯t she that exploded. Her circle did instead.

    With a deafening CRACK-BOOM the circle somehow shattered. The sudden inversion of pressure threw Nenna into the air with enough force that she flew dozens of strides, then slammed to the ground. She lay on her back, dazed, staring up at the unchanged ivory sky.

    Hissing and crackling sounds continued for several seconds, as the power seared itself together and splintered again and again. Then it stopped, a thick cloud of despair rising from the splintered ground.

    No, it couldn¡¯t be despair. It floated freely, not constrained to an aura, rising in dull grey wisps toward the sky.

    Nenna shakily stood and looked down at the remains of years of work. The ground had been solidified, fused together into something clear and hard, then shattered into sharp fragments that now filled the entire former spell circle. But that wasn¡¯t the real problem.

    Someone lay coughing on the ground in the center of the shattered circle. Someone very obviously not a spirit.

    She hadn¡¯t managed to send herself to the mortal realm. She¡¯d summoned something here instead.

    <hr>

    San 1

    <hr>

    San sat in the study, candle burning low, eyes open wide against the desire to sleep. His master¡¯s spellbook lay open before him. Tiny cramped writing accompanied detailed diagrams, complete with angles and measurements.

    All the instructions for his current task: draw a working summoning circle.

    If Teleirv were a better teacher - if Teleirv cared about anything but himself - San might be able to actually use the circle. Or any magic. But his master was nearly as much of an incompetent as he was a drunkard.

    A loud snore echoed through the house. San hardly even registered the sound.

    He was nearly done, the basic layout drawn in and most of the details carved into the magically-joined flattened space Master Teleirv had designated as the project¡¯s location.

    San yawned, blinked several times, then took the book with him and stood to walk wearily around the room.

    ¡°Finish it by morning,¡± Master Teleirv had told him, before stumbling into the bedroom and passing out on the floor.

    Never mind that it had taken San three weeks to come this close, having never been taught half the glyphs involved. Never mind that crafting a summoning circle was supposed to be done personally by the wizard to attune it to his own power for maximum strength. Never mind that Teleirv hadn¡¯t taught San so much as a single spell in the three years he¡¯d been his apprentice.

    Nope. There¡¯s the book, make it happen.

    San crossed to the unfinished circle and sat down by the center. The outside was done, only a quarter cross-section of the final section remained to be done. He laid the book beside the glyph section, comparing each symbol with its written counterpart before pressing the inscription pen into the soft wood.

    Twice he adjusted a line or angle where his initial drawing had been just a little off. His vision wavered, muscles aching with the need for sleep. But he couldn¡¯t rest just yet. He had to do this right.

    He closed his eyes just a moment, picturing the pleased surprise on his master¡¯s face when he saw San¡¯s perfect work. He might smile, might nod in approval, might even say ¡®Good work, apprentice.¡¯

    Probably not. But maybe. If San worked hard enough, if he did it well enough.

    He woke to dazzling sunlight assaulting him through the window. He sat up, sudden panic surging into complete wakefulness, and glanced around the room. No Master Teleirv. Maybe he wasn¡¯t awake yet? If San hurried, he might still be able to finish before his master realized his failure.

    He grabbed the book and started transcribing the symbols as fast as he could, heart racing, glancing back at the door between every stroke of the inscribing pen, listening intently for a footstep or a creak of a door. Then back at the circle, eight to go. Seven. Three.

    He was just carving the final symbol when the door slammed open.

    San yelped, the inscribing pen jerked across the circle in an uneven scrawl, and he knew with sinking heart that the entire piece was ruined. His master would have to buy a new platform, and San would have to start over, and his chance to get it right and impress Teleirv was gone forever.

    ¡°What¡¯re ya doing, boy?¡± Teleirv demanded, hand raised against the sunlight. ¡°Close th¡¯ curtain and get over here.¡±

    San jumped to his feet and took a step toward the window.

    The world disappeared.

    San felt suddenly empty and weightless; hollow and fragile. Like he was made of sun-crisped paper, dreading the wind.

    He saw nothing, felt nothing, perceived nothing. His breath made no sound as it escaped his gaping mouth, replaced with¡ª

    Smoke. Dust. Sand.

    San fell to his knees, coughing and choking, sensation returning in a rush. The air felt heavy, gritty as though he were trying to inhale salt. Light dazzled him, a flickering ever-shifting light that glinted off the broken glass surrounding him. He coughed again, inhaled smoke and dust, raised a hand from the ground and stared at the splinters of white crystal slowly tainted with red.

    He couldn¡¯t think. Nothing made sense. He stared at his hand, gasping for air in the thick atmosphere of smoke and dust. Blood trickled down his palm. He didn¡¯t feel any pain.

    Lightning flickered overhead, never striking, never ceasing, a network of constant motion. Rainbows of colour glinted through the glass beneath him.

    A shadow stood over him, bright and solid at once.

    ¡°You¡¯re not an infernal, are you?¡± whispered a female voice.

    San looked up, saw a white-gleaming outline of a person, a solid ghost somehow not transparent while giving an impression of etherealness. He couldn¡¯t reconcile how she was casting a shadow; she seemed made of pure light, but without the brightness.

    He opened his mouth to speak, coughed, and stared at her extended hand.

    ¡°There¡¯s glass,¡± he managed to say, holding out his own hand toward her. He still couldn¡¯t think past that, everything else seemed so far away.

    Lightning flickered across the sky.

    Blood seeped into the broken crystal beneath him, welled up and ran down his arm.

    The ghost woman glanced around nervously. ¡°Where are you from?¡± she whispered, urgently.

    The question didn¡¯t parse. San stared blankly, blinked a couple times, then stared back down.

    There was glass in his hand. He should do something about that.

    He shifted so he could sit, then started pulling the shards out. He knew it ought to hurt.

    She was pacing now, muttering something that San couldn¡¯t make out.

    Then she stopped, standing rigid and staring out at the distant sandy horizon.

    ¡°We have to go. If you¡¯re not an infernal, then you have to come with me right now.¡±

    She grabbed his wrist, with a surprisingly sharp static discharge, and pulled him to his feet. ¡°Come on, we can¡¯t stay here.¡±

    San nodded and took a step, then the pain hit. Everything he¡¯d been ignoring or just unaware of flooded in. He whimpered, hands shaking between the instinct to curl up and wanting to start tearing the shards of broken glass out of his hands and hang the consequences.

    Maybe if Teleirv weren¡¯t such a failure as a teacher, he¡¯d know some healing spells.

    But he didn¡¯t. He stumbled, fell to his knees - thankfully in sand this time rather than broken glass - and passed out.

    The next thing San knew, he woke to being dragged across the ground. Sand had worked its way under his robe, down his pants, into his hair, basically everywhere. His throat felt dry and itchy. He glanced at his hands, which were wrapped in a light gauzy fabric that had the same pure-light-but-no-brightness quality to them as the skin of the woman dragging him.

    ¡°Where are we? Who are you? What happened? Why¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shhh! Can you walk? We need to get somewhere safe.¡±

    San glanced around. He saw nothing but flat sand, unbroken by so much as a hill or valley, stretching all the way to the pale yellow horizon. Lightning flickered continuously overhead, silently twisting and reforming itself in a perpetual lightshow that made him simultaneously awed and terrified.

    ¡°What is this place?¡± he couldn¡¯t stop himself asking, as he accepted her hand and got to his feet. This time he didn¡¯t immediately faint, so that was a plus.

    ¡°Infernals call it Source, humans call it the Plane of Magic, and we call it Esh¡¯mardren-tatheerok¡¯naen.¡± She said the final word smoothly and without particular emphasis, but it sounded to San like complete nonsense.

    ¡°The Plane of Magic?¡± He looked around again, this time calling on his dormant magic sense, and froze. Everything sparked with power. The air was heavy with magic, the sand itself gleamed with a billion tiny stars, some brighter or dimmer, and the sky! The lightning visible to normal vision was nothing to the vibrant red-gold streams of power twisting and coiling against each other, snapping and crackling across the sky.

    He saw more power in a single breath, a single handful of sand, than San had seen in one place his entire life.

    He exhaled in awe, then stumbled as the not-glowing woman made of light pulled his arm impatiently. ¡°We have to get out of sight!¡±

    He followed, colours blurring and shifting between his physical vision and his magic sight as he continued to give his full attention to the fantastical landscape through which they traveled. Though seemingly formless, he could see now the ribbons and patterns in the sand beneath them. They walked through duller sparks of power toward brighter ones, further away from the brightest gleam on the horizon behind them.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± San asked, whispering this time out of respect for her paranoia.

    ¡°Nenna.¡±

    <hr>

    Powerless, spiritless, worthless. But not quite useless.

    Nenna wants desperately to be a wizard''s spirit, to be summoned away from the realm of power and into the mortal world. But with her own magical spark barely present and far too unstable to support even the simplest spellcasting, what human would want her?

    Tired of waiting, she takes matters into her own hands. She''s going to do the impossible: reverse-summon herself to the mortal realm without waiting for a wizard''s call.

    And when the ritual is over and the smoke clears, she *has* done the impossible. Just not in the way she intended. She''s still right where she started. But now she also has a very confused human apprentice wizard - and he''s in no hurry to return home.

 Endless Worlds

    The first time I reincarnated into a fantasy world, I survived all of twelve hours. Maybe a little less. Hard to say for sure, since I didn¡¯t have a phone on me. But less than a day and a night.

    The second time I lasted a bit longer, making it all the way to falling asleep for the night. Though I didn¡¯t manage to wake up.

    The third time, something weird happened right away, and I¡¯m not entirely sure because of all the flashing light and intense pain, but I think I may have been either summoned or sacrificed (or maybe both) by a weird cult. Needless to say, my stay in that world was the shortest yet.

    After that, I stopped counting. The longer it went on, the more I started noticing about the worlds themselves. I paid closer attention to the wildlife if I found myself in the wild, to the people if in a town or city. I listened. I felt.

    And, of course, I died. A lot. Apparently most fantasy worlds have a high fatality rate for random people appearing out of nowhere.

    I was fortunate, after a few months of this, to finally find a family willing to take me in. A very poor family. In the mountains. In the dead of winter. Right after the Dark Lord¡¯s armies had passed through.  That time, I managed to starve to death instead of being violently slain, and at least I had a decently comfortable place to do it in. A small upside, but an upside nonetheless.

    Still, it was a nice and peaceful break in the monotony of wandering lost until being violently killed.

    My next few incarnations ranged from decent to horrible. I was taken in by a group of ¡®travelers¡¯ only to be beaten, robbed, and left to die in a ditch. I avoided all humans, managed to set a snare for squirrels, and was eaten by a marauding beast who jumped on me from a nearby tree. I couldn¡¯t even tell what it was, apart from furry, big, and very very deadly.

    My fortune seemed so bad that, when I finally found myself in a clean and well-kept city, I couldn¡¯t help being skittish and paranoid. The guards found me suspicious, and I spent the rest of that lifetime in a prison cell. Then I was tried for witchcraft, convicted, and burned. Not fun. I don¡¯t recommend it.

    I did learn something that time, though. During my trial, they tested my ¡®witchcraft¡¯ with a glowy ball thing, and I felt a faint sort of connection to it, or through it. I spent my next several lives meditating on that feeling, trying to recreate it.

    Sometimes I almost managed. Most times, I just managed to sit uncomfortably for hours until being killed or devoured. Usually both.

    I¡¯d stopped worrying about food or drink. I knew my lifespan wouldn¡¯t be sufficient to worry. So if I spent a few hours feeling a bit parched or hungry, it didn¡¯t matter. Wasting valuable time in foraging or seeking a river would be pointless in the long run. All that mattered was knowledge. Information about myself, about the world(s) in which I found myself, and about the people and creatures around me.

    And then I found it. The connection. It wasn¡¯t within me, nor outside me, in any traditional way. I wasn¡¯t even important. I was a link within a chain, a backup phone line, the grounding pin in an electric plug.

    No. Nothing like that. None of those come close.

    I wasn¡¯t the source of the power, nor its destination. Merely a conduit, who could draw off a little of its potential for myself.

    Or so I hoped.

    I shivered through a day on a mountaintop, trying to hold the connection longer than a fraction of a second. I drowned within moments in an endless sea, dragged deeper by unseen creatures grasping and biting. I sat in an oasis, my hands faintly glowing, too focused on not losing the slippery power I held to do anything to discern its uses.

    The power came easier in my next life. I held it the entirety of my three-day stay.  I wasn¡¯t in a beast-infested area, apparently, nor did I encounter any other people. I eventually went searching for food, moving slowly and carefully at first, keeping my thoughts focused on holding the power. I glowed through the night, finding berries by my own personal illumination. Then the next day, I found a birch tree and nibbled on its bark and leaves. Couldn¡¯t find water. Oh, well.

    The next time I arrived in a town I tried not to act like I had anything to hide, and emphatically did not attempt to connect with the power sliding through me. It was surprisingly hard. Somehow, holding it had become comfortable and familiar. It was just a thing I did by default. Like breathing, only softer and brighter. I slipped up a few times.

    I still hadn¡¯t figured out what it could do. It just felt better to have it all through me instead of just a tiny bit in my head or heart or soul or whatever you call the place it lived. It wanted to be everywhere, too, now it knew I could hold it.

    I left town, relieved to be able to have my power to myself again, and set out into the wilderness. It was safer out there. I¡¯d rather be quickly eaten by a ravenous beast than imprisoned and executed. But there were too many people to escape that easily.

    I spent the night in a barn, and didn¡¯t resist when the angry farmer threatened me with his pitchfork. In a pleasant surprise, he decided I was a desperate fool rather than an adversary and invited me in for dinner. Then his wife slit my throat the moment I started glowing. Got to keep a better handle on that. Or live away from people.

    The next time was the first life I actually contemplated trying to survive again. I¡¯d gotten so used to dying again and again that it seemed rather a novel concept. I could build a structure. I could make myself weapons. I could grow crops and tame beasts and become a hermit in the wild. If I found a defencible enough location, I could even stay in the same place, comfortably, and study my power without interference.

    It was a nice dream. I lasted almost two weeks that time.

    Then I found myself in a cave, alone with the comfortable white light of my power, and I realized what I was missing. I needed a dream. I needed a goal. Now that I¡¯d succeeded in my last one of holding onto what was entrusted to me, I needed to do something more than just hold it.

    I missed my fledgling home. I enjoyed the idea of building something lasting and mine and permanent.

    I carved the words into the wall with a stone. BUILD HOME. PROTECT HOME. PROVIDE FOR SELF. SURVIVE.

    It seemed a pretty pitiful list. But, at that time, it was everything I needed. My growing apathy faded, passion re-ignited.

    I could always add other goals like ''CONQUER WORLD'' or ''FIND ANYONE WORT HANGING OUT WITH'' after I had a house and a weapon. And something better to write long sentences with. Because seriously, it took me like two hours to carve out that little thing, I certainly wasn''t going to try anything bigger.

    I would build a home. I would protect it and provide for myself. I would stop the cycle of endless death.

    Someone stabbed me in the back. My glow went out. I stared into the darkness, resolve fracturing. I sighed, prepared for the slow agony of dying again.

    Blue light flared to life, a harsh glow that illuminated my words on the wall.

    ¡°You want to survive? Come with me.¡± A male voice, speaking an understandable language. Strangely non-reassuring, considering the high probability that this dude was the one who stabbed me.

    I gasped in pain, staring up at the blue-glowing form leaning over me.  ¡°How? You just stabbed me!¡±

    ¡°Just to quiet you. Come. They will have heard.¡±

    ¡°Who, what are you talking about, and why should I care?¡±

    ¡°Get up. Come with me. Or stay and die.¡±

    I realized that the glow extended toward me was his hand. I considered refusing, then shrugged. ¡°Alright.¡±  I took hold of him, and my own power sparked to life. White and blue shone harshly off our surroundings, illuminating the area so brightly that we both winced in unison.

    ¡°Hurry!¡± He tugged on my hand.

    I staggered after him, trying not to scream. I let out a dignified grunt of pain instead, then panted, ¡°have I mentioned yet that you freaking stabbed me?!¡±

    ¡°For all the good it did. Quiet. Follow.¡±

    I did, because I didn¡¯t actually want to die again and, well, I was going to be in pain for some time whether I lived or not, so may as well.

    Then he pulled me into a dark alcove in the cavern¡¯s wall, clamped his hand over my mouth, and stabbed his blade into my chest.

    ¡°Mmmoph!¡±

    My glow flicked out, then so did his own. I bit him. His blue light briefly flared up in response, but he suppressed it quickly. And he didn¡¯t let go. I choked on his blood, gagging and retching. I couldn''t even rail against him, couldn''t shout ''What is wrong with you, crazy cave guy?!'' and instead just spat and bit and kicked and grunted. Despite my best efforts, he didn''t release me.

    We stood there a long time. My blood was soaking my clothing. His blood was sliding down my throat. It was thoroughly disgusting and uncomfortable. It was a relief when I finally lost consciousness, then died.

    <hr>

    ¡°WHERE AM I?!¡±

    I sat up and thumped my forehead against the nearest tree. Mr. Caveman was even uglier now I could see him in broad foresty daylight.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± I asked, reluctantly.

    ¡°SORCERER! What have you done to me?!¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°You attacked me, repeatedly. I want nothing to do with you either. Go away.¡±

    ¡°Where is my cavern? Where are my books? Where is my weapon?¡±

    ¡°No idea. Not here. Maybe somewhere else on the planet. Maybe in another dimension entirely. Go looking. It doesn¡¯t bother me.¡±

    He glowed blue. I¡¯d been glowing white this whole time, so I wasn¡¯t impressed. Then he grabbed my throat, and his hands were bigger than mine and his muscles considerably stronger than my own. I kicked and struggled, but to no avail. You''d think I would''ve realized before then that staying in his vicinity was a bad move.

    It wasn¡¯t quite my shortest life yet, but it came close.

    At least I could be rid of¡ª

    ¡°WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!!!¡±

    ¡°Drat.¡±

    I lay where I¡¯d awakened, not bothering to even sit up. It was sandy and warm, anyway.

    ¡°Are you going to be following me around from now on?¡±

    ¡°WHY ARE WE ON A BEACH NOW?!! WHY AREN''T YOU DEAD?! I JUST KILLED YOU!!¡±

    ¡°First, lower your voice. You¡¯re giving me a headache. Second, I have no idea. I¡¯m the worst person to ask. This is all happening to me as much as to you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s your fault! I never faced this nonsense before you and your noisy power came drawing the Vachny on us!¡±

    ¡°Oooh, the Vachny, I guess I should apologize,¡± I said sarcastically. ¡°Like I said back in the vaguely ancient forest. Go away. Do your own thing. I don¡¯t care. At all. I literally could not care less about your existence.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t care? I¡¯ll MAKE you care!¡±

    He jumped on me, and I kneed him viciously, then scrambled back away before he could retaliate. It didn¡¯t buy me as much time as I¡¯d hoped.

    He roared inarticulately and charged.

    I kicked sand into his face and tried to gain more space. He choked, coughed, wiped at his eyes, then charged again. I¡¯d circled around him by then, so when he charged past my nimble sidestep he stepped off the incline and smacked face-first into the water.

    ¡°Oooh, ouch. Have fun with the tentacle-thingies down there buddy. Won¡¯t miss ya.¡±

    He managed to get his head above water and gasp for air, one hand grasping at the sandy ledge, but I kicked it off and he submerged again.  I scanned the area for tentacle things, but didn¡¯t find any.

    There were little biting fishes, though, and they quickly distracted him from trying to climb out and redirected his attention to trying to get them off himself.  I sat down to watch the show, wondering exactly how long it had been since popcorn had been a normal part of my life. Too long. I¡¯d need to reinvent it or something.

    He slowly stopped struggling, twitching occasionally, and I stood to dust myself off. That took care of one¡ª

    ¡°Ow, what?!¡± This time it was my turn to exclaim in horror and confusion. Instead of sitting by the shore, I stood under a tree. Whose branch I¡¯d just collided with. I rubbed at my head. ¡°Why in the world¡ª¡±

    Then I saw Mr. Caveman, lying on the ground and glaring. I ran. He didn¡¯t waste time, roaring and charging at me again.

    ¡°Just go away!¡± I shouted, but he didn¡¯t listen.

    I think that may have been my fastest death yet.

    I don¡¯t really remember how many times he killed me before he tired of it. He got very good at it. I began to wonder if this was actually hell.

    But, finally, he stopped killing me and lay still. I got to my feet and tentatively walked away. He didn¡¯t follow.

    Well, that was weird. Glad it was over, I found a nice empty patch of ground and started plotting out my new home. This time I was in a pretty sparse scrubland, rocky hills everywhere and no trees to be found, so I¡¯d have to do some stone breaking. Modern tools would be so useful, but it seemed the vast majority of dimensions had skipped the industrial revolution and remained stuck at somewhere between feudal and renaissance.

    I couldn¡¯t be precisely certain it was a new world each time, but from the times I¡¯d been around during the night the skies seemed fairly unfamiliar. One had two moons. Most had one. The stars were the big difference though. It¡¯s weird how much you get used to the normal star layout. You wouldn¡¯t think a sky of stars would really be that different, but I could always tell it was wrong the few times I lived that long.

    I¡¯d started breaking ground with the heel of my boot when everything changed again. I sighed. Mr. Caveman lay there, a few meters away from me, on this forested island in the middle of a lake. He didn¡¯t seem to have moved since the last time I saw him.

    I sighed. Guess I needed to do some pep talking, if I didn¡¯t want to get pulled off to a new world every time he got himself killed.

    I cleared my throat. ¡°Listen, dude. I get it. You were yanked somehow from your comfy cave and dragged all over wherever because of something you don¡¯t understand. I get it. I¡¯ve been living this nonsense life for. . . months? Years? A long time. It doesn¡¯t really have many perks. But if you¡¯re stuck with me and I¡¯m stuck with you, then lying here isn¡¯t going to help. I think we need to work together if we want to survive.¡±

    ¡°Why would I want to survive?" His voice was listless, uncaring. "My life¡¯s work is gone. My life is gone. You stole them, and you stole my soul, and now I¡¯m a slave of the Dark One. Forever in the thrall of his sorcerer.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no sorcerer, nor am I allied with any Dark One of anything. Why do people keep assuming that?¡±

    ¡°You ring with the echoes of death and pain.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, whatever that means. And it might be because I¡¯m the one always dying in pain, did you ever consider that?¡±

    ¡°It matters not. I am done. My life is ended. Even vengeance is denied me. Go, dark sorcerer. I will not aid thee.¡±

    Well. I guess telling him that every time he died it would be a problem for me was right out. He¡¯d probably just smile and say that he was happy to die if it made me suffer. Heck, he might even start killing himself just to tick me off.

    As if I needed another problem to deal with.

    At least on a tiny island in a giant lake there was nothing trying to eat us, so we had time to talk this through. Or try to. He didn¡¯t seem interested in doing much of anything besides lying there and inconveniencing me.

    So I lay down next to him. He growled and rolled a few feet away from me, his own blue glow flickering as though he couldn¡¯t make up his mind whether to keep it on or off.

    I got closer. He moved away.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to end up in the water at this rate,¡± I warned.

    ¡°Good,¡± he grunted. ¡°Then I¡¯ll be somewhere else.¡±

    ¡°But so will I. That doesn¡¯t change. We¡¯re stuck together.¡±

    ¡°Dark sorcerer.¡±

    ¡°Not dark. Not a sorcerer. Just another person like you, stuck in this weird reincarnation cycle or whatever it is.¡±

    ¡°Not like me.¡±

    ¡°No, I guess I¡¯m not, am I?¡±

    We lay in silence. He scooted slightly farther away. I sighed, and let him have his distance. I¡¯d rather not get him killed just yet anyway. This was a pretty nice spot.

    ¡°You¡¯re absolutely unwilling to consider working with me for any reason, aren¡¯t you?¡± I finally asked.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Can I ask you why?¡±

    ¡°I believe my feelings on the matter are clear. You are evil. I will have no part of your dark designs. Release me from your thrall, or I shall do nothing but be a millstone about your neck.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Well, that¡¯s a problem. Since I didn¡¯t make you my thrall, and I have no idea how to release you even if I did.¡±

    ¡°You are evil.¡±

    ¡°Am not,¡± I retorted, then immediately felt stupid. I fell silent.

    ¡°I was courting,¡± he said at last.

    ¡°Relevant how?¡±

    ¡°You should know. It is not only my own life you have ruined.¡±

    ¡°Well, that would make me feel bad, if I had even the slightest amount of control over what¡¯s been happening. But I don¡¯t, so I¡¯m afraid your attempt at guilting is misplaced.¡±

    ¡°Dark god cares nothing for the lives of those beneath him. I expect nothing more from his sorcerer.¡±

    ¡°Will you stop it with the dark sorcerer nonsense?! I¡¯m just an ordinary person from an ordinary world.¡±

    Well, maybe an extraordinary one. Given that we had stuff like electricity and working communication, oh, and a notable absence of huge violent monsters everywhere. But I was certainly no sorcerer.

    ¡°If I were a sorcerer, though,¡± I asked after a pause, ¡°what sort of powers would I have?¡±

    ¡°I know not. Sorcery is forbidden.¡±

    I snorted derisively. ¡°Really. That¡¯s what you can tell me? ¡®Sorcerey is forbidden¡¯? So how do you know what it looks like?¡±

    ¡°Smells like. Death. Pain.¡±

    ¡°Ah, right. And who told you that?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°No one needs to tell. It¡¯s common knowledge. Everyone knows.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡±

    I had to think of another angle of attack, because this was going nowhere.

    ¡°What was she like?¡±

    He didn¡¯t answer.

    I tried again. ¡°Why were you in that creepy cave?¡±

    ¡°I was studying the Vachny.¡±

    ¡°And what¡¯s a Vachny?¡±

    ¡°THE Vachny. Not a. Only one. Heavens preserve us, I pray there is only one.¡± He drew a sort of infinity loop on his side with his right forefinger, trailing away down his leg at the end.

    ¡°Yeah, so what¡¯s the Vachny?¡±

    ¡°You should know,¡± he said, but without his usual vehemence. ¡°Another dark creation of the evil gods.¡±

    ¡°So which is it? God, singular, or gods plural? I don¡¯t understand your whole theology here.¡±

    ¡°There are seven evil gods, of whom the Dark One is the chief. The Vachny was created by them all working in concert.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so he¡¯s even more evil than a sorcerer would be?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    "And presumably more powerful, dangerous, and otherwise scary?"

    "Yes."

    "And a greater blight upon the face of the world, which must be eradicated at any cost?"

    "Yes."

    ¡°So, what if I agree to help you hunt and kill this Vachny thing? Would that convince you that I¡¯m not evil?¡±

    He considered it a long moment. ¡°The ways of the Dark One are mysterious,¡± he said hesitantly.

    ¡°But can you really imagine he¡¯d allow one of his sorcerers to hunt this great creation of the whole dark pantheon?¡±

    ¡°No, he would not. The other six would hold him to account, and they are not merciful.¡±

    ¡°There we have it then,¡± I said, relieved. ¡°So get up and let¡¯s hunt us a Vachny. The Vachny, sorry.¡±

    I offered my hand to him. He stared at it, still not convinced. I sighed.

    ¡°Come on, man, what¡¯s it take? Do I have to offer my firstborn or something to get you to stand up?¡±

    ¡°Sorcerers cannot have children.¡±

    ¡°Well, great. I don¡¯t have time to prove to you that I can, nor do I really want to use that method. Imagine if you found out your parents only had you because one of them wanted to prove a point to a stranger. Wouldn¡¯t wish that on anyone.¡±

    He gave a short abortive sort of laugh, as though afraid it would taint his soul if anything I said amused him, but he took my hand and heaved himself to his feet.

    I let out a relieved breath. ¡°There we go. Now, how do we find this Vachny creature?¡±

    ¡°I will learn the way.¡±

    He began glowing blue, then the power intensified and began to expand away from his body. I wished I knew how to do that. Or do anything other than glow, really. It was helpful for finding my way around in the dark, but not much else.

    Then the glow detached itself from him, coalescing into a brilliant blue orb maybe a half meter in diameter. It swooped around him in a slow circle, gaining altitude as it did, then exploded. Blue light faded away, leaving my eyes dazzled and the surroundings dim.

    ¡°Did you find it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No.¡± He drew that loopy thing on his side again. ¡°According to this, the Vachny no longer exists.¡±

    ¡°There we go! Problem solved.¡±

    Well, or we were so many worlds away by now that we¡¯d have been insanely lucky to pick up its signal, but I wasn¡¯t going to tell him that. Anything to keep him on his feet and not at my throat.

    ¡°I do not understand.¡±

    ¡°Maybe whatever weird magic thingy tied your soul to mine also destroyed the wretch in the process. Maybe we¡¯re now holy warriors and should travel together righting wrongs across the countryside.¡±

    I hated how cheerful I sounded while saying that. It was only a bare step up from absolutely wretched, but I¡¯d take anything at this point that wasn''t endless pointless death and rebirth. I tried that, did it to death, and was trying to move on. If not for this idiot I''d have already started on my new house a dozen times over.

    He raised his chin in defiance. ¡°I do not trust you, twisted one. You threw me off a cliff into the ocean to die.¡±

    ¡°After you tried to strangle me! Again! It was self-defence, man.¡±

    ¡°Then swear on your name and your soul that you have no compact with the Dark One or the evil gods.¡±

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°Say it.¡±

    ¡°Oh, um. . . Sure. I swear on my name and soul that I have no compact with the dark or evil gods.¡±

    He sighed. ¡°You must say your name. Like so.¡± He began glowing blue again. ¡°I, Kavos of Tyros, swear on my name and my soul that I have no compact with the Dark One or the evil gods.¡±

    The blue glow flared once, then settled. He let it fade away.

    ¡°Okay, cool. I, Yorre Emeric of Earth, swear on my name and my soul that I have no compact with the Dark One or the evil gods.¡±

    My own aura flared once, then settled. I didn¡¯t try to make it leave. I enjoyed the feeling and the glow came in handy.

    "Hmmm." Kavos looked skeptical, but finally nodded. ¡°Then let us crusade across this empty land, with naught but our pure hearts and the memory of those we once held dear.¡±

    His voice choked up a bit as he said it. I barely managed to resist the childish urge to roll my eyes at him.

    This was going to be a long and frustrating trip.

    <hr>

    So, actually, it was a very short and frustrating trip.

    Apparently the lake was acid. We didn¡¯t make it to shore.

    <hr>

    ¡°So, here¡¯s the deal. For whatever reason, we keep. . . I¡¯m going to just call it ¡®respawning¡¯ for lack of an appropriate term, in random locations every time either one of us dies. So far, we¡¯ve kept our memories, skills, physical bodies, and period-appropriate garb of approximate equivalent value to what we had previously.¡±

    I didn¡¯t feel like mentioning the ¡®alternate realities¡¯ part of my hypothesis, for obvious reasons. The less unbalanced I could keep the fragile mental state of Kavos of Tyros, who despite appearing to be a big strong caveman was actually a bit of a sissy, the better.

    He grunted in reply. I took that as encouragement, and continued.

    ¡°This particular location is not ideal for building our new home, nor for engaging in holy crusadery. Thus, I propose that we instead spend our time here in discussion and study, since knowledge is our most valuable asset.¡±

    He snorted. Kavos, for all his vehemence, seemed to be a man of fewer words than I could have hoped.

    I gestured around at the pale white-gold dust that surrounded us. ¡°Unless you know how to build houses out of sand, or construct weapons with it, or do anything but sit here slowly drying out, I¡¯ll assume you agree with my assessment of our respective goals.¡±

    I¡¯m actually not sure if he grunted in reply to me, or if he was just snoring. Come to think of it, pretty much definitely just snoring.

    Well, that gave me a few hours of peace and relative quiet in which to explore the potential of this weird glowy magic I apparently possessed. Whether I¡¯d gotten it before my first death or at some point during my way-too-long sojourn through world after world, I had it now and it wasn¡¯t leaving.

    I¡¯d seen Kavos use his own blue glow to perform some sort of seeking spell, but he was the only person I¡¯d ever met not to slay me on sight for being able to glow. Well, come to think of it, he did kill me on sight the first time we met. And quite a few times after that. And called me a Dark Sorcerer of the evil ones. . .

    I piled some sand up into a mound.

    Thinking about magic was all well and good, but it never really went anywhere. I¡¯d made exactly one breakthrough - going from ¡®there¡¯s some kinda weird connection thingy in my mind/soul/head¡¯ to ¡®there¡¯s some kinda weird glowy magic thingy all through my body and now I can see around myself in the dark¡¯. Not exactly encouraging progress there.

    The sand was too slippery to use as a building material. Instead, I started drawing out small-scale blueprints.

    I¡¯d need to either include rooms for Kavos, or build him a structure of his own. Assuming I could dissuade him from becoming a wandering crusader. I should never have offered that as an option, but at the time I was getting pretty desperate.

    Still, every wandering crusader needs a home base. We could take turns. Spend the summer taking care of the house, garden, and flocks, then crusade across the lands in the winter when there¡¯s nothing better to do and no carrots to plant or harvest.

    I didn¡¯t know enough about architecture to feel comfortable adding a second floor. Whatever structure we made would be low and wide, rather than tall. I had only minimal experience working with wood, and none working with stone. Basically my knowledge extended to ¡®cut a notch in a tree so it falls away from you and you don¡¯t die¡¯.

    ¡°Kavos? You awake?¡±

    He snorted in reply. Or just snored. Maybe I should stop assuming he was answering me when he clearly has other things on his mind.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll just pretend you¡¯re listening. I think we should put the kitchen at the center of the house. I know, an unconventional decision, but hear me out on this. In the summer¡ª¡±

    CLANG!

    I jerked upright, dove to the side in the same motion, and flung a handful of sand in the direction of the sound.

    ¡°KAVOS!¡±

    He startled awake, looking around. Then he noticed me and the sand, and he slumped in disappointment.

    ¡°Still not a dream,¡± he muttered.

    I ignored his complaint and looked around wildly, searching for the source of the sound. But we were alone. ¡°I heard a sound. A very loud one, metallic, from that direction.¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°I see nothing there.¡±

    ¡°Me neither. Which is a problem.¡± I gathered up more sand. ¡°I¡¯m going to walk toward it. Cover me.¡±

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°With sand?¡±

    I growled. ¡°No, I mean, watch my back.¡±

    ¡°Why? What do you intend on doing with your back?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re hopeless. Just. . . Keep an eye out.¡±

    ¡°No! Barbarian. My eyes will remain in my head.¡±

    My eyes rolled without my conscious consent. ¡°You¡¯re a walking stereotype, you know that?¡±

    ¡°I should probably be offended, but most of what you say is meaningless.¡±

    CLANG! CLANG!

    I jumped, cursed under my breath, and glowered at my unwelcome companion. ¡°If someone attacks me, hit them. Okay?¡±

    ¡°This is a sensible plan. Why did you not suggest it earlier?¡±

    ¡°I did, but you didn¡¯t understand.¡±

    I set off in the direction of the clanging sounds. The sand shifted awkwardly under my feet. I wasn¡¯t used to deserts, even after so many sojourns across the worlds. Usually, they were an uncomfortably warm place to dehydrate in, but not something I wasted energy trying to traverse.

    CLANG CLANG CLANG!

    I frowned. The sounds were coming from back toward our base. Well, I call it a base, but it was really a patch of ground with a few person-shaped imprints and my half-finished sketch.

    I walked slowly back the way I¡¯d come, trying to tell if there was an invisible person around.

    CLANG!

    I stopped. That actually sounded very, very close. And the ground beneath me vibrated in the same moment.

    ¡°Kav, come help me dig.¡± I started pawing handfuls of sand out of the way, digging a shallow hole. Kavos joined me, and together we dug down several feet before the hole was too wide to efficiently continue digging. The sand kept sliding back down in.

    ¡°Is this the beginning stage of that house you never stop talking about?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    CLANG CLANG!

    Kavos tensed, looking around. ¡°What is that strange sound?¡±

    ¡°Something underground, but I don¡¯t know how we can reach it.¡±

    ¡°Is that why we are digging? To reach a deep cavern?¡± He seemed more excited about that than anything else we¡¯d done.

    ¡°Perhaps. I don¡¯t know for sure.¡± I was secretly hoping to find a proper modern bunker, maybe like Area 51, and find a convenient plane parked there which we could borrow. But a cave where we could get out of the unbearable heat would be a nice thing too.

    ¡°Stand back, Yorre.¡± Kavos gestured away from the hole, and I backed away. He began glowing blue, igniting my lingering desire to figure out how exactly he did anything useful at all with whatever magical ability we shared.

    The glow separated itself from his body, as before, then compressed into a thin curved sheet, pointed like an arrowhead at one corner. The glowing wedge spun around Kavos in a spiral, starting by his chest and descending until it sliced into the ground and out of sight. Kavos stood staring into the distance, his eyes half closed.

    I waited, half expecting some spectacular show of light, or sand to start flying in every direction, but no. Kavos just stood there, in our shallow hole, staring into the middle distance.

    For minutes.

    It was hot. I grew bored. I moved behind him and sat down in his shadow.

    Then the blue glow flashed back around him and he stiffened. ¡°Impossible,¡± he breathed.

    I jumped to my feet. ¡°What? What is it?¡±

    He exhaled slowly, the glow vanishing from around him as he did so. ¡°A city. Beneath us lies an entire city.¡±

    I grinned. ¡°Great! How do we get down.¡±

    Kavos turned to me, shaking his head. ¡°We do not want to get down. And we should leave. Now.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG!

    ¡°Because they are coming up.¡±

    ¡°Still not seeing the downside here. Running around in the desert seems preferable to you?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    He didn¡¯t try to convince me, just started running. I frowned after him, then shrugged and sat down instead. If either of us died, we¡¯d both be skipping on out to the next world in line, so it didn¡¯t really matter if we were dehydrated in the desert or set upon by city-dwellers.

    I couldn¡¯t pretend not to be a little worried. Kavos was more often moved to rage than to fear, but without knowing exactly what he¡¯d learned I couldn¡¯t tell if it was justified or just him being weird.

    CLANG CLANG!

    I waited.

    CLANG!

    It was very hot.

    CLANG CLANG CLANG!

    Then, with a FROOOH and a WHUMP, an entire section of desert lifted into the air and swung open, dust flying in every direction.

    I remembered just in time that most people preferred to kill me the moment they realized I glowed white, so I forcefully suppressed the power I constantly drew on. I felt cold and lonely without it, shivering despite the heat, but didn¡¯t risk letting it back in.

    Then a group of creatures emerged from the tunnel, snarling and spreading out in a wedge. I ducked down, suddenly glad I sat in the depression we¡¯d made - maybe I could escape their notice here.

    No such luck. A moment later, one hissed and grabbed my shirt, dragging me to my feet.

    ¡°Hey, gentle, your fingernails could do with a trim.¡±

    ¡°Ersond,¡± hissed the creature holding me. Up close, I could see it vaguely resembled a werewolf, if werewolves were real and bipedal and had faces like angry lions. So maybe a werelion? Was that a thing?

    Then the beast holding me snarled, and I noticed that I¡¯d unconsciously reached for my power. I glowed again, white and comfortable, and my frantic mind couldn¡¯t remember how to make it stop.

    ¡°Sorry, sorry, I don¡¯t mean to upset you,¡± I babbled. Why was I so terrified? It didn¡¯t make sense. I¡¯d been killed and eaten by worse creatures than these. So why did I hang stiff with horror in the creature¡¯s grip, unable to even think straight?

    Then another creature emerged, very obviously female, larger than any of the others. She glowed a vibrant green, a terrifying shade utterly unlike my own comfortable white or Kavos¡¯s deep blue. The moment I saw her, my fear intensified yet again, and I could no longer think at all.

    I could never remember what happened next, just a nightmare collage of fear and horror that refused to cement itself. In a way, it was harder to combat. When I woke, the fear remained even though I could think of no reason for it.

    ¡°You are released,¡± said a deep gutteral voice. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was a male or female voice, but I shivered and rubbed at my arms until enough of the lingering terror dissipated for me to remember how to bring my glow back.

    White power flared to light around me, illuminating the area. The speaker hissed and shrank back, golden eyes widening.

    It was another of the lion creatures, dark-furred, crouching in the corner of the. . . Room? Cell?

    ¡°Deathlight,¡± it whispered, cringing away from me. ¡°Spare me.¡±

    ¡°Um, what?¡±

    ¡°Spare me. I am only a messenger. I have no harm intended to you or any of your thralls.¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Thralls again? What is it about me that screams ¡®dark sorcerer¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Deathlight.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you say that, but I. . .¡± Then I paused, looked down at myself. White glow. I suppressed it, darkness returning. ¡°Is that what you¡¯re talking about? My glow? Is that Deathlight?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yesss, Deathlight. I didn¡¯t know, when I was sent to you. . .¡± Then, to my surprise, it started sobbing. Screeching, coughing sobs, but distinct. ¡°I am meant to be a sacrifice,¡± it said, its deep growling voice almost soft.

    ¡°Well,¡± I said brightly, allowing the light to return. ¡°Lucky for you, I may have a Deathlight, but I¡¯m not feeling like I need any sacrifices right now, so you¡¯re safe. In fact, if you can let me out, I promise I¡¯ll never harm you.¡±

    ¡°I cannot,¡± the creature growled.

    ¡°Well, what can you do? You said you were a messenger, what was your message?¡±

    ¡°That you are released.¡±

    I glanced around at the very solid walls surrounding us. ¡°Released. . .?¡±

    ¡°From the Queen¡¯s power. You may think, speak, and. . .¡± It shivered, and stopped talking.

    ¡°Alright, so the queen is the green-glowing one who apparently can invoke mindless terror, and. . .¡± I paused, wondering if that¡¯s why Kavos ran off. If his blue magic looking thing caught sight of her. ¡°And you¡¯ve been given to me as some kind of placation because everyone thinks I¡¯m a dark sorcerer.¡±

    ¡°You are not?¡±

    ¡°Of course not! I¡¯m just a normal person who happens to glow white instead of blue or green or whatever other colours are socially acceptable around here.¡±

    ¡°Frostshade,¡± the creature growled. ¡°Is not socially acceptable.¡±

    ¡°Is anything?¡±

    ¡°Steamlight, Wavelight, Mistlight. These can be used freely, safely.¡±

    ¡°But not deathlight or frostshade, whatever that means.¡±

    ¡°Nor Stormshade or Stoneshade. Lifeshade is different, but no one has seen a Lifeshade in generations.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful. Thanks for the collection of nonsense words. I¡¯ll be sure to remember them all in case there¡¯s a quiz later.¡±

    Brightness surrounded me, sudden and harsh. The transition from dim to brilliant made me cry out and cover my eyes.

    ¡°I could not find you.¡±

    It took me a moment to place the voice, then I turned and squinted against the brightness.

    ¡°Kavos?¡±

    ¡°I am ashamed,¡± he said.

    ¡°Good. Where¡ª of course.¡± He¡¯d died, had to be. How long was I lost in the underqueen¡¯s fear? Apparently long enough for Kavos to get himself done in one way or another.

    I looked around now that my eyes had adjusted. There wasn¡¯t much to see. Snow, in every direction. A sky so pale blue it almost looked white. I turned to look behind us, and found even more snow.

    ¡°Well. It¡¯s contrast, at least.¡±

    ¡°I should not have abandoned you.¡±

    ¡°Well, at least I got a bunch of words now. If I¡¯m inferring correctly, they said that Frostshade was not socially acceptable. Is that you?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    I nodded, relieved to have guessed correctly. ¡°So, there¡¯re eight kinds of magic, each a unique glow colour? Four are light, four are shade, and my white power is Deathshade, the most reviled and universally hated?¡±

    ¡°I know not. I am Frostshade, and was sent by my people to hunt the Vachny.¡±

    ¡°When we first met, you killed me.¡±

    ¡°I did not mean to. I was trying to silence you, but I may have stabbed too deeply. I was never good with my knives.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s so reassuring.¡±

    ¡°They could suppress powerglows.¡±

    ¡°Good for you?¡± I said absently, looking around again in case I¡¯d missed any distinguishing features the first time. ¡°Do you think this is from a snowstorm, or a perpetually frozen area? Because if it¡¯s always snowy, we could build a home with ice blocks. Like an igloo.¡±

    Kavos groaned. ¡°Do you never tire of your small minded selfish desires?¡±

    ¡°Um, excuse me. Having a home is not small-minded or selfish. Well, I guess it could be selfish if you wanted it to the exclusion of all else¡ª¡±

    ¡°Like you do.¡±

    ¡°I do not. Don¡¯t you ever get tired of just dying and wandering around again and again?¡±

    ¡°Is that why you were scratching up my cavern? Because you were tired of dying?¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s because I was tired of being purposeless.¡±

    ¡°I have purpose.¡±

    ¡°Do you? Because last I checked the Vachny is gone. Your family is gone. Your people, gone. How much purpose do you really have left?¡±

    ¡°Enough to stand. To fight. I will not hide in a corner while the world moves without me. I was always meant to seek out evil and destroy it.¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Listen, Kav, that¡¯s real admirable and all, but without a stable base of operations we¡¯re going to just keep dying again and again. How will you be able to do any good to anyone? At this rate, we won¡¯t even leave any impact at all on the worlds we visit, let alone a positive one.¡±

    Kavos didn¡¯t reply.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like ¡®build a house¡¯ is my ultimate end goal. It¡¯s just the beginning. Once we have a defensible home, once we have weapons to protect ourselves, once we have food, then we can go about making the world a better place. Or do anything else. Set new goals. But it¡¯s a pretty essential starting point.¡±

    ¡°You said worlds,¡± Kavos said, his voice low and tight. ¡°The ¡®worlds we visit¡¯. What do you mean by that?¡±

    Dang it! I should¡¯ve been more careful.

    Nothing else for it. I nervously tried to laugh it off. ¡°Um, well, you know. There¡¯s sand, there¡¯s snow. Like different areas, right? Each ecosystem its own little wor¡ª¡±

    He¡¯d grabbed me by the throat, cutting me off mid-sentence.

    ¡°So that is the secret. That is why we can be reborn again and again. Because we are not reborn. We are pushed from world to world, forbidden death as we are forbidden life. There is no Vachny here, but not because it was destroyed. Because you tore me away from my hunt and my world entirely. Because of you, my people will suffer and die. Because of you, I will forever live with the shame that it is my failure that allowed this evil to befall them. Because of you!¡±

    I wanted to try and calm him down, but getting enough air to survive the next few minutes was a higher priority. I clawed at his hands, but dying several times hadn¡¯t made him any weaker, nor me stronger. He still could hold me off the ground without seeming effort.

    My vision started to blur, and his words lost their cohesion. I kicked ineffectively at him, then woke up lying on the ground.

    ¡°Please, let¡¯s not do this again,¡± I said wearily, but Kavos bellowed and slammed his knee into my throat from what must¡¯ve been a running jump. I heard and felt the snap, wincing as he made a new record for my shortest survival yet.

    I tried to run.

    I tried to reason with him.

    I tried to fight back.

    I tried glowing at inopportune times.

    He killed me.

    In the forests, in the deserts, in the jungle, in the swamp, on the mountainside.

    He even chased me through the streets of a town while I screamed for help and tried very hard not to glow. But he was too big, too strong, and too fast. The strangers who tried to assist me were unable to restrain him, and again he ran me down.

    ¡°Do you even get any satisfaction from this?¡±

    Hillside.

    ¡°Because it¡¯s growing very tedious for me.¡±

    Forest.

    ¡°I¡¯d really rather we talked this through.¡±

    Different forest, smaller trees.

    ¡°DECEIVER! I¡¯ll rip your heart out as many times as it takes!¡±

    Snowy forest.

    ¡°Ripping my heart out doesn¡¯t change anything.¡±

    He kept trying it for a while though.

    ¡°I never set out to deceive you. I promise, I only ever¡ª¡±

    Beach.

    ¡°¡ªwanted to survive, I have no grudge against you or your people. I certainly¡ª¡±

    Clifftop. Oh cra¡ª

    Island.

    ¡°¡ªwouldn¡¯t try to¡ª¡±

    Craggy hills.

    Swampy ruin.

    ¡°Oh, nevermind.¡±

    Time.

    Death.

    Silence.

    World after world after world.

    Pain. Death.

    Always death.

    ¡°I thought we got past this.¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you anything better to do with your life?¡±

    ¡°You could probably build a fortress out of all my dead bodies by now.¡±

    ¡°You know, there are definitely better ways to spend your life.¡±

    ¡°I can think of dozens right off the top of my head.¡±

    Endless. Endless. Endless.

    Pointless.

    I stopped talking, stopped pleading.

    I eventually started crying. I couldn¡¯t help myself.

    Frustration. Impotence.

    I could run, but he was faster. I could fight, but he was stronger. Nothing I did mattered.

    I died, and died, and died.

    I ran. I lay still and waited. I glowed brighter, or pushed the Deathlight away. Nothing I did mattered.

    ¡°WHY?!¡± I screamed as I tried to flee, and he didn¡¯t reply as he crushed my skull.

    ¡°WHY??!¡±

    There was a set grimness about Kavos now, as though he enjoyed this no more than I did, as though he carried out a set of instructions more important to him than life or sanity.

    ¡°Please, don¡¯t.¡±

    My weariness was reflected in his expression, but he didn¡¯t relent.

    I couldn¡¯t tell if either of us remained remotely sane any longer. But I didn¡¯t feel insane, just tired. So tired. If there¡¯d been a way to truly die, I¡¯d have taken it years ago.

    Sometimes I ran. Sometimes I fought. Sometimes I waited. Nothing I did mattered.

    This time, I decided to run. I jumped up and ran, weaving between trees, hoping the obstacles would slow him down. Buy myself a few more seconds.

    Surviving a few more seconds felt like a victory, at that point.

    SNAP!

    I glanced behind me, expecting to see Kavos about to kill me, but instead he lay on the ground, one leg snared in metal jaws anchored to the ground. A bear trap?

    I didn¡¯t care how or why, I turned and I ran.

    I ran with sudden lightness, giddy laughter bubbling up from the depths of my soul.

    I cried with relief, and ran faster.

    Minutes.

    Hours.

    Glorious hours, minute after minute where I was alive and free and alive and free!

    I ran, and ran, and didn¡¯t stop until I reached a raging river too wide to cross.

    ¡°Hello, raging river!" I laughed. "If Kavos were here, he¡¯d be throwing me in right about now. Or drowning me. Or smashing my head on those pointy rocks. But he isn¡¯t here!¡±

    I was raving, I supposed. Shouting aloud was foolish. But I couldn''t make myself care.

    Nothing could squelch my happiness. It had been ages and ages since I''d experienced anything so wonderful as this freedom. I could go anywhere. Do anything.

    I laughed again, skipping along the river¡¯s bank.

    I was thirsty! I was hungry! I¡¯d survived long enough to want to consume things again. It had been so long I¡¯d almost forgotten what it felt like.

    I scooped some water from the river, marveling at how crisp and cool and refreshing it was. I spun in a circle, throwing water into the air and letting it fall on my upturned face.

    ¡°Over that way, I thought I heard something.¡±

    Panic ignited throughout my body, extinguishing my joy in an instant. I ran blindly, away from the river, away from the voices, just away. I couldn¡¯t be found. If anyone found me, if I died, I¡¯d be back within reach of that crazy caveman who had no sense and wouldn¡¯t leave me alone.

    I needed to find a safe place.

    I needed something I could carry with me from life to life, world to world, something which could negate Kavos¡¯s physical superiority. I could think of only one potential answer. I had to learn to use my power. I had to survive long enough to do so. Three minutes wasn¡¯t enough, particularly when it was spent being chased down and killed. A power called Deathlight had to be useful for something. I had to get away. Hide. Survive.

    I blundered out of the woods and across a meadow, downhill the whole way. A small village nestled beside the river, which emerged from the wood a good distance away to my left, so I veered right.

    Once I was out of sight of the village, I slowed my pace. My side burned from the extended exercise and I could definitely tell I was hungry now. The handful of water had been insufficient; my mouth was dry and I¡¯d need more soon. I could circle the village and loop back to the river downstream of them, but somehow it seemed safer to drink from a body of water uphill of a town than down.

    But I wasn¡¯t going back uphill. I wasn¡¯t going anywhere near that forest. I had to get as much distance from Kavos as possible before he worked his way free of that trap.

    Unfortunately, Kavos must¡¯ve been slightly smarter than I gave him credit for. Because I hadn¡¯t made it halfway to the next hill before I stumbled over a dead tree trunk in an unfamiliar swamp with the angry crazy himself lying nearby.

    It didn¡¯t matter which one of us died, we both started over.

    I ran.

    I didn¡¯t get far.

    <hr>

    I''d lost count of how many lifetimes and worlds we''d skipped through when we appeared in a town. This wasn¡¯t uncommon. But this time I ran straight into a woman, knocking her down. Out of desperation and pure instinct, I bit her. She screamed and slapped me. I had just enough time to swallow before Kavos killed me.

    We reappeared somewhere else. But with one essential change. Now the woman lay beside us, looking around as though trying to take in everything, her eyes wide and uncertain.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± I told her, and Kavos broke my neck.

    ¡°Who are you? Where is this?¡± she demanded, as we reappeared in another world. Kavos took a rare break from slaughtering me in order to bow to her. I ran, trusting that he¡¯d explain everything and then come kill me shortly.

    He didn¡¯t.

    I ran for nearly a half hour before slowing to a stop, surprised and baffled by the lack of pursuit. It had been so long since I¡¯d had a free day, I wasn¡¯t sure what to do with myself.

    We¡¯d respawned this time in a wide open meadow. Goats wandered about nibbling at low grasses. I looked back, expecting to see Kavos rushing across the plains at me, but he wasn¡¯t.

    I felt weirdly lonely. There was definitely something wrong with me by this point.

    Then I remembered my last brief day of freedom, and decided running farther wasn¡¯t going to help.

    I sat down and focused on my glow. Whatever momentary distraction I''d created by bringing the woman into our loop wouldn¡¯t last long. I needed to make some progress.

    Out. Strike. Attack. Coalesce. Stab. I ran through every mental command I could think of, trying to get my aura to do. . . well, anything except sit there.

    It sat there.

    I wished I could talk to Kavos without him murdering me five times a minute. He was the only other aura-wielder I¡¯d been around. Well, apart from the weird were-lion underground sandqueen person, but basically the only thing I remembered about her was absolute terror any time she was in sight. Not a helpful teacher, even if we weren¡¯t thousands of worlds past where she lived.

    I idly wondered what would happen if Kavos managed to kill me in every world in existence. Would I disappear? Would we loop back to Earth and start over? Could I be sure we hadn¡¯t? Earth had plenty of out-of-the-way places where we could¡¯ve shown up. This meadow, for instance, could easily exist on Earth without being out of place.

    No. Thinking about Earth would only make me depressed, and I was already messed up in the head enough without adding depression into the mix. I forced my focus back to my power.

    The power wasn¡¯t mine. Wasn¡¯t remotely mine. It was in constant motion, passing through me and away, cycling back and forth like the tides on the shore, leaving behind just enough that I could glow.

    To this weird magic power, I was damp sand. That felt bizarrely appropriate.

    I tried to gather it together. I tried to push it away. But nothing changed. I could accept it into myself, glowing with its presence, or I could separate my body from whatever part of my innermost self connected to it, letting it only flow through my psyche or soul instead of my body.

    Useless magic. Why did I even bother?

    I tore up a clump of grass and threw it at the nearest goat. It fell short. The goat ignored me. I ignored the goat.

    ¡°Come on, glowy magic! Be useful! Be even a slight bit useful.¡±

    I glowered at the goat. It was ignoring me with much more success than I was ignoring it, wandering slowly in a vague direction without so much as glancing my direction.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t we talk it out?¡± I lamented aloud. ¡°Maybe if I let him kill me a few more times, he¡¯ll get tired of it and we can work together for a change.¡±

    I was starting to get bored with the scenery. It had been the same for so long. Just meadow and goats. It made me feel antsy.

    I shook my head. No, that was normal. Scenery shouldn¡¯t be changing every few minutes.

    I had to get away. I had to do something, anything but die and flicker through world after world.

    This was even worse than last time. I¡¯d be weird for the rest of my life at this rate. The rest of my life. I laughed harshly. What life was that? A few years or decades back, I made a grand resolution. I¡¯d build a simple house, with a simple garden, and survive more than a few days. Since then, things had only gotten worse. My average survival time had dropped from hours to minutes.

    Kavos. It was all his fault.

    I glared at the goat. It nibbled on its grass, ignoring me.

    ¡°What would happen if I bit you?¡± I asked it. ¡°Would you come along too? Could you distract Kavos?¡±

    If I could bring livestock along with me, it would be handy for my own future. Assuming I could ever ditch Kavos. It made me feel happy, imagining having my own flocks of goats or whatever that could come with me every time I died. Then again, it could be awkward if I ever needed to slaughter one for a meal. Or if a wild animal got in. I¡¯d have to be careful, consider the drawbacks as well as the potential benefits of any permanent action.

    Where was Kavos? Shouldn¡¯t he be charging at me, full of fury at my alleged evilness or something by now?

    ¡°Maaaah,¡± said the goat.

    ¡°Maaah to you too,¡± I retorted grumpily. I tore up another clump of grass. ¡°Just leave me in peace, I¡¯m trying to brood here.¡±

    I threw the white-glowing clump of grass at the goat, and it flew true this time. In the half-second it took my mind to understand what was happening, something lurched out of me, or through me and out, and then snapped back with enough force to knock my breath away.

    The goat fell over.

    I jumped to my feet, gasping for air, staring in shock.

    I did it. I did. . . something. That was magic. Actual, not-stuck-inside-me magic. I threw a glowing grass clump. And knocked over a goat! This was the weirdest breakthrough I could imagine, but it was a breakthrough nonetheless.

    I couldn¡¯t get enough air.

    It felt like something was compressing my lungs, preventing me from more than the shallowest breaths. Any attempt to breathe more deeply sent stabbing pain through my chest.

    I sat for several minutes, trying to acclimate. I¡¯d have expected that countless years spent doing nothing but dying over and over would¡¯ve better prepared me to tolerate discomfort, but this was on the verge of sending me into a panic. I looked around for anything to distract myself, and settled on the goat I¡¯d just knocked over.

    I crossed toward it, hesitantly. It didn¡¯t jump up and attack me with its horns, so I continued forward. The clod of grass and dirt I¡¯d thrown lay limply beside the fallen creature, no longer glowing.

    The goat itself was. Well, no. Not glowing, not white, but it had a deep colourless aura which felt like the perfect harmony to my own power. Before I knew what I was doing, I crossed the distance and put my hand on the goat¡¯s warm trembling side. It couldn¡¯t move, not more than a fraction, and I felt a pang of sympathy at its shallow desperate breathing that mirrored my own.

    And that thought broke whatever instinct had led me here. I stood, one hand on a paralyzed goat, each of us glowing in pure opposite of each other, neither able to breathe properly.

    I stared at its head. I couldn¡¯t see its eyes from where I stood, behind it, and I didn¡¯t really want to. My vision was starting to narrow. Not enough air. Here I was. Here was a goat.

    Now what?

    The power flowing through me seemed to be mingling with whatever the goat had. I concentrated, and realized that was what caused the constriction. Not my own power, but the dark mirror. My power flowing into the goat, condensed in a layer beneath its own dark aura; its power doing the same to me. We were connected now, in some different way than I¡¯d ever experienced before, and that connection was hurting us both.

    I pulled back sharply on my connection, snapping my power back into myself and away from the goat, in hopes that it would break whatever was holding us together.

    It didn¡¯t work exactly as I¡¯d expected. Sudden pressure suffused me, compressing my chest and stifling my mouth as darkness completely filled my vision and my self.  I felt the goat¡¯s trembling still beneath by hand, and I knew it was dead.

    Then I panicked. I couldn¡¯t breathe at all, my mouth was dry and empty. I couldn¡¯t see. I clutched a dead goat as the only connection I had to any sensation, but that was no help.

    I couldn¡¯t even scream.

    Darkness.

    Fear.

    I lay gasping for breath, blinking light away from my eyes.

    ¡°¡ªbut I don¡¯t think. . . Oh, what was that?¡±

    ¡°He died, and now we¡¯re somewhere else.¡± I recognized Kavos¡¯s voice at once. It sparked instinctive self-preservation and I jumped up to run.

    ¡°Wait, please don¡¯t run,¡± said the woman. I stopped, turning to face her. This was the first time I¡¯d gotten a proper look at her. She was very average-looking, neither tall nor short, a bit on the underfed side, but with soft features and indistinct eyes. Her hair was brown, a few shades darker than her medium skin.

    And she wasn¡¯t wearing anything.

    Neither was Kavos.

    I sighed, turning away to examine the boulder-strewn hillside upon which we now stood. ¡°Why are neither of you dressed?¡±

    ¡°That is none of your business,¡± Kavos growled.

    ¡°Well, now you¡¯re going to have to figure out something new to wear, because I don¡¯t think we can go back for whatever you left behind.¡±

    Speaking of left behind. . . I looked around hastily in case the goat made the jump with us. It hadn¡¯t. No goat, corpse or otherwise, was in evidence. I sighed with relief, then grinned as I realized that not only was Kavos not killing me, but I could also breathe normally again.

    ¡°Alright, well, what you two decide to do with your time is none of my business. I have¡ª¡±

    ¡°A house to build?¡± Kavos asked.

    ¡°Yes!¡±

    ¡°Can you make it two?¡± the woman asked.

    I smiled. ¡°Absolutely.¡± I glanced at Kavos. ¡°So, are we good?¡±

    ¡°No, but if I continued killing you it would also harm Asara, and that I will not do. So long as only I would suffer, my crusade was justified and worth the sacrifice. But I am not you. I will not harm innocents merely to have my own way.¡±

    ¡°Awesome! I should¡¯ve brought someone into the loop sooner.¡± Though, really, we ended up in civilized areas only a fraction of the time, and the chances of getting someone within the seconds before Kavos caught me were minimal.

    Kavos growled, so I hastily backtracked. ¡°That is, I¡¯m so sorry it had to come to this.¡± I turned to the woman, carefully keeping my focus only on her eyes. ¡°Asara, was it? I extend to you my own personal apology for stealing you away from your world and life and bringing you along on this journey of madness that is our life now. I wish I knew more. . . well, anything at all, really, about what was happening, but I do not. I know only that with you along, it¡¯s become that much less tedious of an adventure.¡±

    She giggled. ¡°You are not what I¡¯d expected.¡±

    ¡°Kavos doesn¡¯t know me as well as he¡¯d like to think.¡±

    ¡°He said you were a dark sorcerer, obsessed with building a house in tribute to the evil gods.¡±

    ¡°Did you really say that?¡± I asked Kavos.

    He shrugged. ¡°You seemed unnaturally insistent on your goal. Am I wrong?¡±

    ¡°YES! I have no acquaintanceship whatsoever with any gods, much less the specific evil pantheon with which you¡¯re familiar! I want to build a house to live in it!¡±

    ¡°Two houses,¡± Asara puts in. ¡°One for you, and one for us.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s already an ¡®us¡¯ now, is it?¡± I glance at Kavos, who somehow manages to blush in an extraordinarily manly and tough way.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he says shortly.

    ¡°Well, congratulations then. That was fast.¡±

    ¡°I have tried courtship. But now I see it only means wasting time when either one of you could be snatched away in a moment. This time, I do not hesitate.¡±

    ¡°Well, again, congrats. I hope neither of you mind if I go find a nice spot to begin construction.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t,¡± Asara said. ¡°But do return sometime. I would like to learn more about you and your world. Kavos¡¯s world sounds dreadfully fascinating, and he says you¡¯ve never spoken of yours.¡±

    ¡°My world is a place of marvels such as no one on this or any plane I¡¯ve visited since could match. We had conquered nature, tamed the elements, and could travel anyplace on the planet within a day. We could transmit information across the globe faster than speaking it aloud.¡±

    Talking about it made me strangely nostalgic for Earth. I¡¯d never really thought of my life there as anything but mundane and tedious, but now that I¡¯d lived and died across thousands of other worlds, it seemed we really did have something unique.

    ¡°It sounds amazing,¡± Asara said.

    ¡°It was. But it¡¯s long ago and far away.¡± I straightened, ready to get on with things. ¡°Have fun. I¡¯ll be back when I¡¯ve found a promising spot. That, or I¡¯ll die. Whichever. And please, if you have time, find some clothing. Both of you.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t until I¡¯d moved out of earshot that I realized Asara had never reacted to my glowing. Not at all.

    I glanced down at myself, and indeed, I did still glow. Whatever had gone on with the goat and its mirror dark aura hadn¡¯t changed my connection to this power.

    I sat down heavily on a nearby boulder. Everything had happened so fast, I hadn¡¯t had a chance to process it all. But now I found myself more perplexed than ever.

    Something had happened. I¡¯d somehow managed to throw my light at the goat, which had then forged a connection between us that hurt us both. And when I broke it, we both died.

    Not a very useful power, and one which made the violent hatred of everyone who saw me glowing a little bit more understandable. If their only experience with white-glowing people was them causing sudden and inexplicable death, why wouldn¡¯t they have such traditions?

    I had a unique opportunity here. I could study this Deathlight power as no one else could. The simple experiment of throwing light at another creature - leaving aside that it was rather an accident - had killed me. Most other Deathlight wielders would have gotten that far and no further. One mistake, one death, two if you count themselves and their target, and that¡¯s the end.

    But I? I could leap from world to world instead of dying for good. Any failure gained only knowledge, and lost nothing.

    Of course, that was assuming I wanted to study DEATH MAGIC.

    I sighed and stood up. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t be so proud of my beautiful white glow. Maybe I should try harder to suppress it. Maybe I should follow Kavos¡¯s example and find someone worth loving, worth staying with forever.

    But not everyone wants to live forever. I¡¯d wished countless times that I were capable of dying, and that was just from the relentless pursuit of a murderous madman. This endless cycle we¡¯d become trapped in may well be a worse hell than any deity could envision.

    No, now that I had some time and space away from the adrenaline-soaked desperation of running and dying again and again, I knew that I¡¯d never again inflict this on anyone else. Not unless I had no choice.

    I climbed to the top of the hill and looked out at the surrounding lands.

    A few dragons lay sleeping together in the valley, curled up like massive lizardy kittens. I had a pretty good idea of what would be killing us this evening.

    Perhaps the next world would provide a better prospect for survival.

    I started down the far side of the hill, back towards where I¡¯d left Kavos and Asura, but then stopped. I stared at my glowing hand, then back toward the dragons. If we were basically doomed here anyway, I could at least try this out again. See if I could find a less deadly-to-myself way of using Deathlight. And if not, at least we¡¯d be leaving this world with one fewer deadly monsters to ravage the countryside.

    I crept around the hill and down the slope toward the sleeping monsters. The closer I got, the less kittenish they appeared. They were huge, unrealistically massive. I wondered how they were able to stand, much less fly, with their unwieldy mass.

    Then I came closer still, and they were big enough to block out the hill behind them. And closer, until they loomed over everything like a mountain of breathing scaled flesh.

    My heart was racing, not just from anticipation, but if I wasn¡¯t exactly immune to fear by that point I was at least less inclined to act on it. Something between resignation and recklessness had overtaken me, and I continued forward until I felt the hot, warm breath of the nearest dragon. It nearly knocked me over each time it breathed out.

    I tried to will the deathlight into my hand so I could throw it. Nothing happened. I mimed a throwing motion, in case the light only reacted to an actual attempt. That failed as well. I hesitantly tore up a clump of grass, very quietly, and tried to make it glow. Nothing happened. I tossed it half-heartedly toward the dragon, hoping it wouldn¡¯t wake it. The grass fell short and thumped softly to the ground, no glow in evidence.

    I tried to remember my mindset at the time. I¡¯d been annoyed, wanted the goat to leave me alone. Wanted it to be quiet.

    I very much wanted the dragons to be dead. Did that count?

    I thought about how dangerous they were, how much better off everyone would be if they weren¡¯t alive. I thought specifically about how much better my chances of survival would be.

    I definitely wanted them gone. Absolutely.

    I threw my hand out as though throwing the light or the grass, wanting light to form, wanting it to fly out and slay the dragon for me.

    It did nothing.

    I almost growled with frustration, but clapped my hands over my mouth in time. Right beside sleeping dragons was the very worst place to have a loud tantrum. Instead, I grabbed the nearest clump of grass, ripped it from the ground, and hurled it at the dragon in case anger was an appropriate trigger for the light.

    It didn¡¯t work. Of course it didn¡¯t. At least a small clump of earth and grass wasn''t enough to wake the dragon as it bounced off its side.

    I continued in this vein for several hours, until my emotions were strained from constant manipulation and the dragons finally woke up and that was that. My first death by dragon. Weird that it had taken so long. Then again, I''d only died a hundred or so times to anything but Kavos. Or perhaps even fewer? I couldn''t really remember anything that long ago.

    Our next world was cold and rainy, but not immediately infested with deadly monsters. I wanted to smirk at the others for their decision to abandon clothing, but they weren¡¯t naked anymore. Well, that was good. Even if it did remove my ability to mock them.

    ¡°I take it the hill does not form a satisfactory foundation for a house?¡± Kavos asked.

    ¡°Dragons already lived there, so, y¡¯know, I decided to give them precedence.¡±

    I didn¡¯t mention my repeated - failed - attempts to kill them off. That was personal and private.

    I did peer at Asura curiously, though. She still seemed completely unbothered by my glow. Which, I checked, was definitely active.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± I blurted, frowning at her. ¡°You can¡¯t be a random citizen. You¡¯re taking all of this way too calmly.¡±

    She smiled gently. ¡°It¡¯s alright, Yorre. You don¡¯t need to worry about me. I¡¯ll be fine. Go on, find a place to build your house. We¡¯ll be along shortly.¡±

    ¡°Kav, you¡¯re letting her speak for you now?¡± I demanded, whirling to face him. ¡°You don¡¯t find this suspicious?¡±

    ¡°I have stopped thinking about it,¡± Kavos said. ¡°You are the one who brought me into this madness. You are the one who brought her. I have agreed not to kill you again. Is that not enough for you?¡±

    ¡°Well, I. . .¡± I mean, not having to worry about my dimension-traveling companions killing me was great and all, but there was something about this woman that I just didn¡¯t trust.

    ¡°Go on,¡± she said again, more insistent. ¡°You have your goals to pursue, and we have ours.¡±

    I sighed, but nodded. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll be back. Don¡¯t get yourselves killed.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll be here.¡±

    <hr>

 Happy Days at Magic School

    Dear diary¡­

    No, that sounds dreadful. If you''re to be my closest confidant throughout the months to come, I simply cannot address you so formally. What shall I call you? Latisha? Andrea? Juliette? I can''t decide. I shall think upon the matter and get back to you. For now, I shall simply call you friend.

    Good morning, my friend!

    There. Much more natural. Don''t you agree?

    Good morning! I am simply thrilled to be packing for my trip. I''ll be spending the next three months as a transfer student to ... you''ll never guess ... A MAGIC SCHOOL! Yes, that''s right! Yours truly is going to be learning MAGIC! And making friends! At least, I hope I''ll make friends. If I don''t, I''ll still have you.

    You really do need a name.

    Oh! Mother''s calling me, and I haven''t finished choosing my wardrobe. Wish me luck!

    Finished packing at last, though I mustn''t forget to slip you in at the last moment. I''m bursting with so much excitement, I don''t know if I can stand another minute of it!

    In another few hours, I''ll go to the carpet station and load up my luggage. I''ve seen flying carpets before, but since you''ve probably never left the bindery before now I''ll tell you a bit about them.

    Do indulge me, please, I have nothing else to do with myself and will die of excitement if I don''t have something to distract me!

    Let¡¯s see, where to begin?

    I didn¡¯t used to understand what the carpets were, since I only saw them as shadows going by overhead. I remember asking Father why they never flew in flocks like normal birds. He explained that they¡¯re not birds at all, that they fly on a schedule to deliver people¡¯s goods from place to place. He says that¡¯s how we¡¯re able to get icepeaches all year, though they don¡¯t grow here at all even in the dead of winter.

    I wanted to fly on one myself, but Father said that they fly too high and too fast, I wouldn¡¯t be able to get air. I still think that¡¯s a silly explanation. Air is everywhere. Why would being higher or moving faster change that? Birds are fine, and so would I, so long as I¡¯m careful not to fall off.

    But there are laws, so I can¡¯t even go near one until I¡¯m 19. Stupid laws. I¡¯ll be taking a train instead of flying.

    Oh, I¡¯m so impatient! Why can¡¯t the evening come sooner? Do you think there¡¯ll be other students there? Will we be arriving together? Or will I be the only new girl? I hope not! I¡¯d hate to be the only outsider.

    I wonder if it¡¯s almost dinnertime. I¡¯m starting to feel hungry. Maybe dinner will help make time pass faster. I think I¡¯ll go ask Marie how the food is coming. Maybe she¡¯ll let me sample it. Yes, that¡¯s a very good plan.

    Don¡¯t worry, I promise I¡¯ll write in the morning and tell you all about the trip!

    <hr>

    Dear friend¡­

    Oh, it¡¯s so good to have you back! Have you missed me? I hope you weren¡¯t worried after I left you behind. I do apologize most sincerely. I thought to slip you into my art bag before we left, but Father loaded everything into the carriage so early. And you know how excited I was to be underway. I didn¡¯t even think that I¡¯d left you on my bedside table!

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    But all is well now. We are reunited, and I have a great deal to tell.

    Let me think back.

    Oh, the train, it feels so long ago now!

    Well, first we arrived at the carpet station to unload my belongings, and there¡¯s a special departure station for those going to the Academy. They have brochures and plaques up and everything, and a glass room where we can actually watch the carpets being loaded and launched!

    The Academy carpet is huge, probably even bigger than the ballroom. It¡¯s bright red and patterned into sections. They tied up all my things together into one section, with a big net overtop to keep them still.

    There were eight other bundles, so I knew I mustn¡¯t be the only person coming from this area. I still don¡¯t know who they are, though. Probably nobility. I swear I saw gold on some of the suitcases. Can you imagine?

    Then they towed it out into a wide open area and it started to float just a little while they were pulling it, and then it went a little higher, then, oh, it was so sudden! One moment it drifted a bit like when you hold paper over a steaming pot, then it snapped loose of its tresses and swooped away up into the sky!

    I¡¯m going to fly one some day, I don¡¯t care what anyone says.

    Then we went to the train station, and it was so boring after seeing something like that, so I found my seat and tried very hard to fall asleep. But I couldn¡¯t, so I watched out the window instead in hopes of catching sight of the Academy. We went past a lot of fields and some woods and then through some hills. I was so disappointed when we finally came in sight of the Academy, it was hidden in a valley and straight ahead of us, so I couldn¡¯t see it until the very last minute.

    I stood and leaned as close to the window as I could, to catch the first glimpse of it, and then we came over the edge of the valley and ¡­

    Oh, I can¡¯t do it justice. Even now it takes my breath away remembering.

    The valley is absolutely smooth, like someone made a gigantic bowl between hills and carpeted it with the brightest, greenest grass you can imagine. The very bottom is a lake, perfectly round, with water so clear and smooth it looks like a mirror. And the Academy sits in the center of the lake, like every fairy tale castle and tower combined, with drawbridges and boats and everything.

    But that¡¯s what it looks like now. When we arrived, it was evening. Oh, it¡¯s so¡­ magical. That¡¯s really the only word for it. The sun had set behind the hills, but the sky still had glimmers of orange and purple reflected in the lake.

    The clouds were puffy and twisty, like they get sometimes after carpets go through them a lot, but it made it look almost like they were painted. I swear I saw flowers and vines and open books and everything!

    But best of all is the academy itself. The towers were covered with magical lights, like a thousand purple and gold fireflies strung around and draped over everything.

    Oh dear, that¡¯s the breakfast bell. I have to go.

    <hr>

    Hello, dear friend, I''m back!

    I was telling you about the academy. Our dormitories are set around the edges of the lake, so we can walk in across the bridges in the morning. Or, like I prefer, there are little boats moored up along the shore. Every one is different. They¡¯re magical, so they don¡¯t need to be shaped like normal boats.

    Some are shaped like boots, or a basket, or a spool of thread. I saw one girl in a giant cauldron and I swear I nearly fell overboard laughing. She looked like she was about to be cooked by a witch!

    Others are shaped like animals or magic people. My favourite is the mermaid. The front is mostly like a normal boat, but her head at the prow looks back at me, and the back is like a fish¡¯s tail. It makes me feel like she¡¯s just drifting on her back in the water, smiling down at me as she gives me a ride.

    Kyle¡¯s favourite is what he calls the pegasus, but I think it looks like a winged donkey. Pretty sure they¡¯re called larasin, not pegasus, but he won¡¯t listen to me.

    Oh! I haven¡¯t told you about Kyle yet, have I? I actually saw him on the train, but we didn¡¯t talk then. He was reading the whole way and I can¡¯t read while moving or I¡¯ll be sick, so we had very little in common. But when we arrived at the Academy valley, he knew everything! He mentioned the trees and I asked if he knew about the lake, and¡­ well, we ended up talking the whole way, and I think he¡¯s definitely my friend now, maybe a best friend, maybe someday¡­ aww, well, we¡¯ll see!

    <hr>

 Bad Timing

    The last file finished saving and I pulled the drive from my laptop, already thinking of my next move as I slipped it into my pocket. It settled lightly against my thigh, but to me it felt like it carried the weight of the world.

    I double checked the icons on my screen. 8:42 am. No available network connections. The internet was still down, and I had barely three hours to get everything uploaded if I were to finally triumph over my longtime rival.

    The annual Mega Online Book Review Contest would end at noon today, and unless I found someplace with a working internet connection fast¡­ I¡¯d lose everything I¡¯d fought so hard for. Again.

    Three years in a row, Buqlovr9 had taken the coveted Top Reviewer star, and this time I was determined to beat his smug smiling face, no matter the cost. I¡¯d cashed in all my vacation time and isolated myself completely for the past week, doing nothing but reading and composing reviews.

    Before I started my weeklong reading binge Buqlovr9 had already posted four more reviews than me.

    I couldn¡¯t let that stand. I refused to come in second place again.

    But this year, I had a plan. I would only post half the reviews I wrote each day to lull Buqlovr9 into a false sense of security. Then, at the eleventh hour¡­ I would strike with my full power!

    But¡­ curse the fates, now that the time came to post my deluge and finally, finally triumph¡­ the internet still hadn¡¯t been repaired at my house.

    My mind raced with potential options as I hastily threw on clean-ish clothes and grabbed my car keys. There had to be someplace.

    The library? Thirty minutes away, full of students, and a slow network. There was no guarantee I could upload all forty reviews before a librarian kicked me out to make room for someone else. I needed someplace with a faster connection and no time limit.

    A cafe? Maybe. I didn¡¯t like trusting an unsecured connection with my precious laptop, but for something this important, I could make an exception. I unplugged the laptop and jammed it into its bag, stuffing the cord in and throwing the bag over my shoulder.

    One other option. My office at work. It was a twelve minute drive from my house, if I rushed, and I knew our network was top speed. Sure, it wasn¡¯t work-related activity per se, but no one actually monitored our online activity. Even if Ben caught me red handed, he was a pretty tolerant boss all things considered. I might get a reprimand, but nothing too severe.

    Worth the risk.

    I tossed my laptop on the passenger seat as I started the car and pulled out into the blessedly empty mid-morning streets. Without the usual rush of traffic I made the trip in just under nine minutes. Maybe I should find a way to drive to work an hour late every day, if it meant this little competition for road space.

    I typed in the code, ran up the stairs without waiting for the elevator, and burst into my office already worrying that I¡¯d not done quite enough.

    Loreen looked up from the desk, eyes brightening when she saw me. ¡°Oh, look who¡¯s survived the magic apocalypse. What brings you here today?¡±

    ¡°Hah. Nice try.¡± Loreen knew my love for fantasy and never let a day go by without teasing me about it one way or another. ¡°So the magical apocalypse happened, but cars and electricity are still working just fine?¡± I pretended to play along, but I was really hoping to distract her long enough that she¡¯d roll her chair back to talk and give me the opening I needed to jump on the computer.

    ¡°We have a generator. The main power grid is down.¡±

    ¡°And yet here you are, typing up reports like it¡¯s a normal day in the office.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already used my vacation days,¡± Loreen said, her voice completely serious.

    ¡°We don¡¯t get apocalypse leave?¡± I joked. ¡°Ah, well. Apart from this report, what do you have to get done today?¡± If she wouldn¡¯t stop of her own account, maybe I could guilt her into leaving to do something else. We shared the computer because neither of us were technically office workers. I used it for inventory and ordering, while she used it for typing up long, dull reports like the one she was currently halfway through.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°Just a lot of reports today. I wasn¡¯t expecting you to be in.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not here officially, just wanted to check a couple things before tomorrow.¡± I needed that computer. How else to distract her? ¡°So, what¡¯s been up while I¡¯ve been gone?¡± I asked the question as casually as I could. Perhaps getting her gossiping would work?

    ¡°Ben got eaten by one of those apcocalypse portal things, so ¡­ about what you¡¯d expect.¡±

    I gave the joke an obligatory pity laugh, expecting her to turn to me with that smug grin she always got when she thought she¡¯d said something particularly clever, but she didn¡¯t.

    Instead she continued with the joke entirely straight-faced. ¡°Ethan quit and Jarad hasn¡¯t been in for three days, so the internet is still down.¡±

    Only the last part of that sentence really registered. The internet¡¯s down. ¡°Really? Here too?¡± I leaned closer to the screen and groaned. She was right, the icon for ¡®no connections available¡¯ sat in plain sight. ¡°It went out at my house a few days ago¡ª¡°

    ¡°Yeah. That would be when the aliens invaded and half the population disappeared through portals to another world.¡± There was a bitter tone instead of her usual affability. I thought she¡¯d been okay with my impromptu decision to take a week of vacation time, but the way she was acting it clearly bothered her more than she let on at the time.

    ¡°Rough week?¡± I sighed, wearily. I didn¡¯t have time for a long discussion if I was going to find somewhere else with open wifi in the next few hours, but Loreen and I were close enough I wasn¡¯t going to run off without at least clearing the air a bit.

    ¡°You¡­ haven¡¯t heard?¡±

    ¡°See item A: I have been on vacation. Reading. Many many books. I actually read a few about apocalypses, too. I can give you some good recommendations. But right now, I¡¯ve got about three hours left before the deadline, and a whole stack of reviews to submit, so¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, it has been a rough week!¡± Loreen was almost shouting by now, clearly stressed about something. She took a shuddering breath, pulling herself together, then shook her head. ¡°You picked a really crappy week to take off. I¡¯ve been losing my mind here. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re safe, it¡¯s good to have you back. I was worried when you didn¡¯t answer your phone.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I turned it off. Couldn¡¯t afford any distractions.¡±

    ¡°Right, that book contest thing. Did you win?¡±

    I felt the flash drive in my pocket, the weight of potential victory or sure defeat. ¡°Not sure. I haven¡¯t been able to get online. Seriously, though, apart from the apocalypse thing, where is everyone? The main office was empty when I came through.¡±

    Loreen spun to face me. ¡°There is no ¡®apart from the apocalypse thing¡¯! There is a literal, magical, apocalypse happening right now, and if you weren¡¯t so wrapped up in your fantasy novels you¡¯d see that!¡±

    ¡°O¡­kay, I¡¯ll go check with Ben.¡± Maybe he¡¯d know when the internet would be repaired.

    Ben wasn¡¯t in his office. The light was out, the door locked.

    I checked the employee calendar in the main office, but no one was marked to be off today except me.

    Jarad¡¯s office was empty too, though there was a note on his desk from Kanson, his trainee intern. ¡®Trying to fix water line, pls help when u get in¡¯.

    Jarad was never late. I pulled out my phone, which was still turned off from my self-imposed isolation. I held the button to turn it back on, then waited impatiently through the bootup sequence.

    Several missed calls, but no one important. A flood of texts between my mom and sister in the shared family group chat which I didn¡¯t bother to read. I called Jarad, intending to ask if the internet would be back up this morning or if I should go elsewhere, but it went to voicemail.

    I returned to Loreen, poking my head into the office. ¡°You know where Jarad is?¡±

    ¡°No one¡¯s seen him since the portals started appearing. There¡¯s an office pool on whether he¡¯s hiding in that bunker of his, fell through one of the portals, or went off to fight the aliens with¡ª¡°

    ¡°Enough with the stupid apocalypse joke, okay! I don¡¯t have time for it right now. I need to find some way to get online before it¡¯s too late.¡±

    ¡°There is no internet any more!¡± Loreen screamed, throwing the mouse against the wall, flipping the keyboard into the monitor, and jumping to her feet. ¡°The world is ending and I¡¯m typing this stupid useless report because I don¡¯t know what else to do. Since our boss went missing there¡¯s no one around to clear extra time off and I¡¯ve already used my vacation days and I really need this job! What, do I think that if I pretend hard enough everything will go back to normal? Is that it? Is that why instead of trying to find my missing brother or vanished niece, I¡¯m sitting here as though not losing my job is the most important thing in the world?¡±

    Manic energy exhausted, she abruptly collapsed against me, sobbing into my shoulder.

    I¡¯d never seen her break down like this. She¡¯d always been focused, determined, and self-sufficient to an almost intimidating degree. To see this vulnerable, normal side of her was jarring.

    Missing brother? Vanished niece? When had this happened? No wonder she was having a mental break, if her brother had run off with¡­ my forehead scrunched up as I tried to place ¡®niece¡¯.

    ¡°Would that be Erica?¡±

    ¡°Jasmine,¡± she mumbled, voice muffled by my shirt. ¡°Katrina has Erica with her, Bethel is a complete wreck.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?¡± The words weren¡¯t empty. Loreen and I had been working together for eight years. Buqlovr9 could enjoy his stupid star a while longer; if Loreen was in the middle of a family crisis, this was more important.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything anyone can do. With so many¡ª¡°

    Before she could finish, there was a crackle like breaking ice, then a sizzling hiss, then a portal sliced the office in half, swallowing the desk and office chair whole.

    I stared, completely unable to parse what I was seeing even as the portal closed in, like a giant mouth ready to slurp us down.

    Loreen looked over her shoulder, hiccuped a weak laugh. ¡°I did tell you there was a magic apocalypse."

    <hr>

 Looper 308

    ¡°Work time! Get up!¡±

    The harsh voice greeted her as her existence began, uncertainty whispering that she didn¡¯t belong here.

    She sat up in the rough cot, a stiff blanket falling around her lap as she did. Familiar, but utterly foreign. Four smooth walls of blank metal, each carved deeply with the same white-glowing symbol, like a bolt of lightning wrapped around an open hand with two fingers upraised.

    Looking at the symbol made her feel dizzy, so she looked down instead. The same symbol adorned the floor, and the ceiling. Only the wall from the direction of the voice had a smaller version, less brightly glowing, less dizzying, so she focused on that wall as she got to her feet unsteadily.

    Someone had scrawled on the back of the door the number 308, alongside a page listing prices and rules. Rewards for different types of item, values deducted for infractions such as refusing to work, dying, or attempting to escape. Nothing special, all things she could have guessed. But the number¡­

    308. That felt familiar. Right. 308 was her. She was 308.

    ¡°Everyone up? Let¡¯s go!¡±

    308 placed a hand on the door, and it swung open. She stepped out into the hall, meeting the confused gazes of her neighbor across the way, and a young man further down the hall looking around uncertainly. Others didn¡¯t bother with curiosity, looking down, or turning immediately toward the source of the voice.

    Before the door across the hall closed, she saw the same glowing symbols on his walls, an equally bare room with nothing but a bed identical to her own.

    A woman walked down the line with an oversized black marker, scribbling the number on the front of each person¡¯s grubby white tunic. 308 looked down at her number, now scrawled hastily across her chest, as the woman moved on.

    She looked up and met 307¡¯s eyes. He was looking at her again. ¡°Hi,¡± she said, a little awkwardly. ¡°I¡¯m 308.¡±

    ¡°307. Do you know what¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°No. You?¡±

    He shook his head. She noticed as his door closed that there was another page fastened to its outside, a longer one this time. She turned to check her own.

    308

    Human

    Female

    Deaths: 280

    Debt remaining: 29,922,608

    She could see the number had begun at 30 million, and below was a list of deductions and items. The biggest was an artifact, valued at 20,000. Most were smaller. Some were additions to the debt; she saw at least six +5000: Killed attempting to escape.

    And the list was long. It filled her with a sense of hopelessness, as well as confusion.

    Deaths: 280

    ¡°Deaths?¡± she asked, but before 307 could answer, the shouter at the front called out again.

    ¡°Three hundreds, let¡¯s move!¡±

    Then they were walking, a double column that quickly became four, then eight, then ten, as other halls joined them in one wide band filing out into the oversized courtyard. Huge walls stretched out to surround them in all directions, split with a dozen towers.

    308 felt instinctive fear, looking up at those towers. She knew they were one of the most dangerous things around.

    There were various people, some that looked like her, others whose bodies were very different. Some had fur or hooves, flat heads or up-perked pointed ears, flesh pale as marble or blue or red or dark purple, soft cream fur or bristly black, horns, an extra eye or only one eye. She stared around at the assemblage, awed and uncertain. She felt both foreign and a deep sense of kinship with everyone here.

    This wasn¡¯t where she belonged. None of them belonged here. They were foreign together.

    ¡°You¡¯re working sector 92 today,¡± their instructor called, pointing to a gate marked 5 off to their right. ¡°Follow the signs, bring back whatever you find, and it¡¯ll be deducted from your debt. If you survive the full day, tomorrow¡¯s haul counts as double. Good luck.¡±

    The crowd turned to the gate, but moved more slowly now. 308 could feel the dread, less than the towers invoked, but the gate was almost as bad. Not quite certain death, but close to it.

    ¡°Hurry up! Gate closes in three minutes.¡±

    That galvanized them, overcoming the reluctance as they all hurried. The gate was bad, but being left behind was worse.

    308 strained at her memory, trying to remember how she knew these things, but everything beyond waking in her room was a blank.

    280 deaths.

    Was that good? Bad? She¡¯d tried to escape before, multiple times, yet she was still here. She¡¯d found items, somehow, and turned them in. Why was she here? What did she owe 30 million of, and why? Was this a debtors¡¯ prison? Was she a criminal? A murderer?

    Then they were outside, and she felt a moment of absolute certainty that she¡¯d rather have stayed inside and faced the towers. At least that would be quick.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    An army of monsters stood waiting for them, lined up and grinning like they¡¯d known their prey would be arriving any minute. Familiar monsters. Monsters that stalked her forgotten nightmares.

    Unlike her fellow numbers, the monsters weren¡¯t great in variety. The front ranks were almost entirely giant wolves, but she saw minotaurs scattered among them as well. Enough to be dangerous even without the support of wolves.

    The 0s at the front began to slow, uncertain, as those behind pushed up against them, still trying to get clear of the gate before it slammed closed and sealed their fate.

    The monsters waited, slavering and drooling, and for a moment 308 tried to convince herself this was just a show. Her pounding heart didn¡¯t believe her rationalization.

    A moment later, her fear was proven correct. The sound of the gate closing acted like the gunshot at the start of a race, setting the monsters rushing forward in a wave.

    The front ranks were decimated in an instant with no time to prepare, screams and snarls filling the air as the slaughter began. The 100s started banding together, clumping up, readying fists even as the 0s ahead of them were torn apart. 308 felt her mouth go dry, legs trembling, and she looked around frantically for any way out.

    The last of the 500s were breaking off and running along the wall to either side, hoping to escape the slaughter, but 308 was trapped in the middle of the crowd, unable to escape.

    ¡°We can take them! Together!¡±

    The 200s were rallying now, as the 100s saw some success in bringing down a few of the beasts. The wolves were still running rampant, but the numbers had felled a minotaur and trampled it to death, their dead companions piled around its corpse in company.

    The wolves reached the 300s, and 308 screamed and punched the first one in the snout, kicking it wildly as several around her helped drop it to the ground. They followed the 100s example and stomped and stomped until the wolf stopped biting and trying to right itself, lying still and broken. Then there was another, and another, and 308 lost track of herself in the frenzy of adrenaline-soaked desperation as they fought for their lives.

    Then it was over. The monster wave decimated, a hundred or so of the numbers had survived.

    308 had a vague sense that she should be sick, but she only felt numb. This was all familiar, inevitable, inescapable. She was sure she¡¯d been at the front sometimes, been the first in line to scream and die.

    She looked down at the wolf they¡¯d trampled, and found it glowed. Not visibly, but in her mind. She touched the glow and an item appeared, hovering in midair with the same purely-mental glow.

    Knife, level 1. A simple blade with unlimited potential.

    Unthinkingly, she reached out and gripped its handle. The weapon came away from the glow, gaining solidity and weight as it settled into her hand like it belonged there. She spun it, tossed it in the air and caught it, flipped it around and still knew exactly how to reach out and catch it.

    ¡°There¡¯ll be more,¡± one of the women near her moaned, sitting with her head in her arms. ¡°I can¡¯t do this.¡±

    308 didn¡¯t have time to comfort her. She had a weapon now. She hurried forward, joining the ranks of the few remaining 100s and 200s who had also obtained weapons. Some were clubs, axes, swords, knives, even a few with a sling or bow or staff.

    Level 1 items were worth a single point against their debt, but would be more valuable in hand.

    She understood the strategy immediately, as though they¡¯d practiced this scenario until they knew it by rote. With weapons, they could kill more monsters. Some monsters would drop more valuable equipment. The further they got from the prison fortress, the more dangerous it would become.

    The more dangerous, the more potential.

    They briefly congregated, some swapping weapons as they liked the look of one better than the other, but most seemed satisfied with what they¡¯d obtained.

    Less than a quarter of the survivors were armed, most of the rest milled about back in the slaughter field, or had already fled.

    ¡°First two rounds we bring back here,¡± declared an older blue-skinned man with three horns and fins on his ears, the number 184 across his shirt. He nodded back to the unarmed survivors. ¡°After that, we¡¯ll reassess.¡±

    Everyone understood. There was strength in numbers, safety in being an army. Once they were an armed force, they¡¯d be far better able to face the monsters that awaited them.

    The morning passed according to plan.

    They fought. Some died.

    More weapons were obtained, and they returned to replenish and expanded their numbers before moving on.

    They fought again. More died.

    308 was fast and aggressive, and fought fiercely. She was injured, but not killed.

    Twice she earned a new weapon from her kills, and both times she passed it on to someone else. The knife suited her well.

    The sense of hopelessness never left, growing only stronger as the day progressed. She fought it with all her strength, throwing herself into combat even as the challenge level grew higher and higher.

    She found a second knife, a level 3 worth 5 points, and kept it.

    This time she did not go back with the others, recklessly pressing on into the wilder lands beyond the path.

    So she was alone when she found the tribe of sleeping minotaurs.

    Heart hammering with twinned dread and anticipation, she crept into the camp.

    They¡¯d set no guard, kept no watch. They were vulnerable. And they were strong. Much bigger than those in the initial wave waiting for them outside the gate. Adorned with more ornaments. Better groomed. Everything about them screamed power.

    These were the kind of monsters that could drop artifacts. This was the kind of place she could make her fortune.

    If she woke any without silencing him the whole camp would arouse and she would die.

    308 didn¡¯t hesitate. She did not fear death, only felt a great aversion towards it. She would fight to the last but this was an opportunity she would not flee.

    She ghosted through the camp, slitting first one minotaur throat then another as they slept helpless and unaware. She didn¡¯t dare pause to collect the glow gathered around each of them, but hurried from each to the next, assassinating the guards, then the nobles, then the chieftain and his wife.

    Only once her task was accomplished and the entire camp lay still in death did she let out a faint laugh, a relieved giggle that verged on mania. She ran from one corpse to the next, artifacts spawning like flowers popping from the ground in spring.

    A knife, level 10. A circlet, level 12, with the blue glow of magic. A palm-sized orb of golden light with a level of infinity. An ornate armor set with matching green glows.

    She¡¯d never in her life seen so much value gathered in one place. She stowed it all away gleefully, finishing back at the chieftain¡¯s corpse with the golden light.

    Clarity Orb. An impenetrable shield around your mind.

    [Latent mental obstruction detected. Cleansing will commence in 4, 3, 2...]

    308 dropped the orb before the countdown could complete, the words in her mind vanishing with the contact. She stood for a moment, breathing heavily, unsure why she felt suddenly so afraid.

    Perhaps¡­ perhaps she didn¡¯t want to know. Perhaps she would rather imagine herself a murderer than know it for a fact. Perhaps she would rather struggle on in ignorance than recall every failure along the way.

    She still had so far to go. Better to turn in the orb, forget about it.

    She did not. She slowly knelt down, and cupped the dropped orb in her hands.

    The countdown resumed.

    [3, 2, 1.]

    And Teresa remembered everything.

    <hr>