ã€ŠFantasy World Epsilon 30-10ã€‹


 [Authors Notes]

    I''ve published on Amazon, Apple, Nook, and a host of other sites. If you wanna support my work or share it with a non-RR-heathen friend then here you are: https://books2read.com/Epsilon30-10</a>

    It''s a universal link, just click on your preferred store icon and it will portal you over there. Magic!Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    <hr>

    This is a universe I created to practice writing for another universe I wanted to create. I''m a novel author, not a serial author, but I very much admire the medium. Both my inspiration and aversion of many tropes often come from popular stories originally from this site.

 1.1 Peeping Jon

    Jonathan sat upon his rocky perch, binoculars in hand. He followed his mark who made an uneventful trek through the forested valley below. It was autumn, and the stark orange hues of deciduous forest presaged the morning chill. Leaves still clung to trees, unwilling to give way to the brisk breeze just yet. A rivulet bravely wormed through undulating folds in the land. It would meet its larger flowing brother if only it could make it out of this humble ravine. Lazy meanders which almost doubled back evidenced its struggle. An idyllic postcard scene, and he was fucking sick of it.

    His body had grown stiff over the past few hours of static observance. It was a forward position set up ahead of time knowing his quarry would inevitably move through. A camo-net lay draped over him for good measure. Its mottled colours perfectly matched the surrounding rock, too ideally in fact. He had it printed from stores the moment he chose the spot, print-screening the colours, so it matched just right. Retrieval of the item from his pack took only moments.

    It was overkill. Even the sharp eyes of the ¡®elf¡¯, now accompanying the target, couldn¡¯t have spotted Jon behind the rocks and the shaded recess in the mountainside. Casual conversations with strangers on the road indicated this world had magic. Magic to detect him perhaps. Jonathan Kelly was blissfully devoid of the outrageous sorcery of this realm, just as the day he was born. His body was maybe more mundane than the rocks around him; although that was inevitably changing much to his chagrin. The standard acclimation time for frontier worlds such as this was about one month to a year. It wasn¡¯t an exact science, fuck, it wasn¡¯t science at all, at least not the science of Alpha and its more local clusters.

    He was eating lunch. An onigiri partially unwrapped from cling wrap, and half-eaten, hovered in his left hand. It was below his mouth and binoculars. The sour plum rice ball was his favourite. Finishing up his chomping, he stowed the dirty plastic wrapping in a side pocket on his pack.

    Returning attention to the audio tap, he noted absently the sound visualisations moving in a corner on his AR HUD¡ªAugmented Reality Heads Up Display. It was unobtrusive to his broader sight as well as transparent. The audio tap was planted on the target¡¯s pack. Muffled sounds of the ill-placed microphone distorted its quality but sufficed for dialogue. The tracker also provided bearing and distance. It was a savvy gadget from the techies back home.

    Given that this medieval world unsurprisingly had no satellites, and therefore no GPS, geolocation was very ghetto. He watched the pair moving to set up camp in a clearing. It was noon, or what passed for it with the slightly softer white light of the sun and one of three moons currently visible. This moon was very familiar, thank god for small mercies. The other two, seen on previous nights, were possibly captured asteroids.

    The target spoke to his damsel while coming to offer a water sack filled from a nearby stream. Jon¡¯s audio feed blared.¡°We should make it back to your village by sundown at this pace.¡±

    The human he followed¡ªthe pending protagonist¡ªwas an unassuming man with blond hair and a well-toned physique but not overbearing frame. Finer details were difficult to make out at this range, but from memory and his garb, he was easy to pick out. The elf girl was a new, but expected addition. Her long pointed ears, the betraying feature. They were about double the length of a human ear from lobe to tip and articulated visibly as she focused on sounds, folding back on her skull or out for forward-facing sounds. They were hairless but far more functional than ornamental it seemed. She stood slightly smaller in stature compared to the human man, and she appeared to be in a bad state. Her possibly beach blond hair was dirtied and matted in a mangled mop on her head. Smears of mud and other dark marks lay across her bare legs and feet. She had a lithe frame and wore a similarly dirty short canvas robe tattered at the hems with an anachronistic black leather jacket providing scant warmth. It looked like an unadorned motorcycle jacket. Jon frowned in puzzlement, but he had his suspicions.

    ¡°Th-Thank you again, kind adventurer,¡± stammered the elf. Her voice had a few subtle inflexions of sophistication producing a vaguely precocious accent. ¡°Had you not arrived sooner, the goblins might have done far worse.¡±

    Jon gave a derisive snort ¡°Fucking goblins! D¡¯you hear that Lee?¡± There was no reply through his comms; Lee was apparently still a.f.k. for coffee. He continued to eavesdrop with a bemused grin.

    ¡°Looks like they probably did enough, and they won¡¯t ever do anything more.¡± Replied the man in a nondescript but unmistakably American accent, because of course he was American. Jon¡¯s cadence, by contrast, was the flat tone of a South African ex-pat although idiosyncrasies had wormed their way into his lexicon over the years ¡®abroad¡¯.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    The two in the clearing sat and snacked in silence, soft chewing and gulping sounds could be heard through the audio pick up. It looked like a poignant moment for them.

    ¡°What is your name, noble sir?¡± asked the young woman after she¡¯d consumed the proffered jerky, or something brown and flat anyway.

    ¡°I¡¯m Steward, Gavin Steward.¡±

    ¡°Classic James Bond intro,¡± remarked Jon.

    ¡°I am Keya Ces. T¡¯was truly an act of bravery that you came and slew those goblins. Few would risk their lives for one such as I. Our village is but a small hamlet with most able-bodied men drafted into the war. Even so, my kind is not looked upon so favourably here.¡±

    Gavin¡¯s face was probably frowning with injustice and pity. Fictive dramatisation was how Jon made his own fun.

    ¡°Evy, please make an inquiry on goblins and sapient rights considerations.¡±

    ¡°Inquiry with the relevant data has been compiled and sent.¡± Replied an even and calm female voice. AI had come a long way, but Jon could still identify the slightly stilted word transitions that betrayed their nature.

    ¡°Your grandfather asked me to do it, but I still would¡¯ve come even if he hadn¡¯t. This world is¡­¡± Gavin trailed off, shaking his head, and they rested in silence once more, finishing off the rations. It was making Jon hungry again.

    ¡°Evy, please bring up the relevant source material once more.¡± A single image of a mostly burnt fragment of paper appeared in his AR vision which read:

    <blockquote>

    ¡®Gavin Steward hoisted his pack and exited the small village with Keya in tow. She still wore his black jacket though¡­¡¯

    </blockquote>

    There were other words and phrases scattered in unblemished or unburnt parts of a single typewriter printed page. ¡°I cannot believe this is all we have for plot identification.¡± Jon sighed. Evy did not respond. ¡°Evy, a probable major character identified, sidekick or support, possibly love interest.¡±

    ¡°Acknowledged, mission parameters updated, statistical projections extrapolated.¡±

    On Jon¡¯s visual feed was a list of arcane numbers and codes in varying hues, mostly in purples or blues; they updated regularly. The new information saw a noticeable shift in the colours towards lighter violets. Jon smiled thinly.

    The couple down in the valley made to move again. Gavin dusted himself off, and Keya simply got to her feet. She had no belongings, and getting dirtier was a moot point at this stage. She did pull the jacket closed around her somewhat, its sentimental value evident.

    No sooner had they stood and begun to leave when they heard rustling in the tree line. Gavin responded quickly, shouting, ¡°Get back!¡± Keya jumped in terror and scampered to the single towering oak tree they¡¯d used for shade earlier. It was near the stream bank. The rivulet was a little too deep to cross quickly and behind it rose a craggy outcropping; there was little escape that way. Jon could not see what was approaching from his vantage of the tree line, but he heard the growls. Deep guttural, angry sounds one might hear from a large dog, but the baritone was hefty.

    Moments later, he saw the beasts emerge into view. They were wolves, that is if wolves were the size of ponies. And three of them stalked into the clearing facing the nervous-looking Gavin with Keya behind shifting closer to the tree.

    Gavin simultaneously took a swig from a flask in his right hand and made a quick gesture with the left. A potent gust, out of place for the placid day, raced across the clearing and impacted the beasts throwing two head over heels. Drawing his short sword, he rushed the third one.

    Jon only wished he had popcorn. Too late to order it now. It was shaping up to be an entertaining encounter.

    ¡°Plot point: MC is engaging with three mobs; assailants appear to be large wolves, pending identifiers as Direwolves,¡± said Jon. New flora and fauna got named by the first operative to identify them, and they mostly stuck if you weren¡¯t a dick about it. One of the better perks of the job in Jon¡¯s estimation. ¡°Lee! You¡¯re missing the good part!¡± He heard some muffled far off shouting on the other end of voice chat as if his handler was shouting from another room. Peter Lee had the worst timing for coffee breaks, almost prophetic in fact.

    Back in the glade, Gavin slashed downward viciously with his sword, gashing the foremost wolf in the skull. It was severe but not fatal. All the same, the wolf squealed in pain and pranced back, while the other wolves were recovering. They¡¯d been blown too far away to come to their lupine brother¡¯s aid. Gavin positioned himself facing the gashed wolf, made another gesture and the wolf abruptly yipped before collapsing. He then turned to the remaining two. Sword sheathed again, and he gesticulated even more, this time with both hands as he almost casually walked toward the now somewhat apprehensive remaining beasts. The cast-time was much longer and seemed practically complete when he unexpectedly stumbled and seemed to trip over an obstacle.

    There was a loud bang as the microphone instantly auto-levelled, capped, and then muted. Jon lost the target in the ensuing commotion; pulling back from the binoculars, he sighted the area again and resumed observation.

    The elf had scaled up the tree, and the two remaining wolves were huddled together over something. The microphone clicked back on. Gavin wasn¡¯t in sight, but he heard the panicked gasps of the elf, and the unmistakable sound of large wet chomps and breaking bones. Jon grew agitated. He took a nervous glance at the coloured numbers on his feed, the hues began to change rapidly as the values concurrently decreased. From violet purples to blues and then on down the colour spectrum turning orange and then red. ¡±Aw shit!¡± Jonathan threw off the camouflage and retrieved his rifle from the pack. Hoisting the bag with the gun slung in front, Jonathan scrambled to his feet and down the slope into the valley.

 1.2 Guns Blazing Kinda

    Racing through the forested landscape, Jon only slowed on approaching the clearing. Although only minutes had passed, it felt like forever before he reached the scene. He checked his gear, flipped off the safety and pulled a Sensor Buoy from a side pocket on his backpack. It was a black stake with a large matte black bulb on top. He shoved it into the detritus strewed forest floor, and his vision flared with all manner of overlays.

    Seismic pulses splayed out under his footfalls, a soft radar ping wrapped meshes around obstacles it touched, and everything was tinged with slight thermal gradations. It would have worked much better at night, but as it was, the world came alive with coloured and meshed data. He turned down the opacity to get a more energetic overlay; in the autumn sun, details positively glowed.

    Jon had broken a moderate sweat from his dash through the forest; he hoisted the barrel of his gun as he found and braced against a nearby tree.

    The wolves were 182 metres down a slight slope in the clearing, sounds of chomped and ripped flesh could still be heard over the microphone, as well as the now hyperventilating elf a little way off in the tree.

    ¡°Lee, I¡¯ve got a code red. Approaching for direct engagement.¡±

    ¡°Aw, shit, man!¡± Lee finally picked up in his Australian drawl.

    ¡°Ja, you¡¯re late. Check the recordings. Gotta focus.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve loaded steel cores and casings, right? They¡¯re a ball ache to find otherwise.¡±

    ¡°No worries man, sorted.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Jonathan sighted downrange through his scope as he breathed out and squeezed the trigger. The silenced rifle bucked slightly in his hands. The damped slap of three rounds burst through the forest. Silencers were misnomers, especially on larger calibre assault rifles. Shots remained extremely noticeable but would carry less over longer ranges. Two bullets hit a wolf centre mass, and it dropped where it crouched. The last wolf sprung up at full attention, but it only presented itself as a larger target. It took two in its broad chest and one in the neck, yelping as it also collapsed.

    Jon sighed. He checked the area for any further movement but registered nothing. The forest was deathly silent now, the partially muzzled thuds of gunfire having even scared away the birds. Save for the whimpering and snivelling of the elf and the stream nearby, the previously lively forest felt still.

    ¡°Confirming kills and checking survivors.¡±

    Jon retrieved his sensor buoy and approached the clearing proper. Once he exited the tree line, he paused five metres from the nearest body and replaced the Buoy. Its readings once again flared up, giving a much more detailed view of the proximal area.

    ¡°Evy, life-signs.¡±

    ¡°One humanoid in the tree.¡± The silhouettes of bodies were highlighted in white and green, dead and alive, respectively.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re sure this time. I don¡¯t want a repeat of Egypt. 99th percentile my ass.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t blame Evy for that!¡± answered Lee. ¡°Crocodiles are hard to check in the water!¡±

    Jon grimaced, Lee was probably right. If they moved, he¡¯d shoot again; letting them bleed out would hedge his bets. The skull wound from the first wolf looked frozen and was melting in the midday sun. He took note of it and moved on. Gavin lay half-eaten under the other two pony-sized wolves. There wasn¡¯t much of his skull left, and what remained looked scorched. He did not approach and just inspected clinically.

    Next, he went to appraise the lone survivor clinging desperately to the oaken trunk while straddling a larger branch some three metres up. Her eyes were wide and dazed, face covered in sweat.

    With delicate features, high cheekbones and bright lime green irises, she might have been attractive on a good day. Jon suspected this was not a good day.

 1.3 Fight or Flight

    Keya stared unblinkingly as direwolves ate her saviour. It had all happened so fast. She could not remember when she climbed the tree, but now she clung numbly to it, her nails digging into the bark.

    Her sight was magnified, but the world was mute. She was abstractly aware of the ringing in her ears, yet this was of least import. Only the image of jaws tearing flesh and crushing bone filled her awareness. Vision was riveted to the scene of wolves feasting.

    After a while, they lay down, perhaps temporarily satiated with their meal. There was noise a little way off too, but she ignored it. Dumbly, Keya continued to stare at the burnt head of Sir Steward.

    First, the goblins came and ripped her from her home. They almost had their way with her too, and now direwolves! It was too much. She could fall if she chose, let the wolves have their fill. Her limbs said otherwise, and at the base of her thoughts, something savage screamed: No!

    So that was where she remained. Not fear but animalistic revolt held her in place. Keya Ces would wait for as long as it took for the wolves to leave, days if necessary. One thing was absolute: the gods would not have her. I refuse.

    An eternity or no time at all passed as something began incessantly gnawing at her senses. Which one was it? Sound? A voice? It came from below. Reluctantly she tore her sight away from death to focus on the inconvenience.

    Numerous things happened in the next instance. Seeing a man standing casually right beneath her sent involuntary spasms through her strained limbs. She tried to scramble for more purchase but to no avail. Her disobedient body had already dislodged her. She swung, seeing the branch she had straddled and fell, yelling all the way down.

    Her impact felt a lot softer than anticipated; warmth and fabric arrested her fall instead of grass and cold soil. Then arms grappled her from underneath. An unhinged shriek erupted from her lips, and she scrambled away on all-fours.

    ¡°Mother fucker!¡± said the stranger, ¡°I think I cracked my rib trying to catch you! Evy!¡± The man massaging his chest paused as if listening to someone. There was no one else around. ¡°Oh, thank god. You know if these numbers are correct you¡¯re really light for your frame. Avian bones maybe?¡± Keya remained wordless; there was something crazed about this man.

    It hardly mattered; the wolves would come for him too. Except they lay still, and Keya now noticed the blood staining their pelts in places.

    ¡°Hello?¡± He waved a hand before her eyes. ¡°Earth to Keya. Do you read?¡±

    She understood the gesture, but clearly, he was the crazed one. His words sounded like Common, but the names and phrasing made little sense. Why did he know her name? She narrowed eyes at him.

    The man stood up and shifted slowly back. He had short-cropped hazelnut coloured hair and was cleanly shaven. His skin pale and unblemished, although clearly a human well into adulthood. Undoubtedly a nobleman to be so fair and untouched by time and hardship, just like Gavin. Nerves frayed at the thought.

    Plain light leathers clothed him, of the type any woodsman might wear. His pack too was a simple canvas affair. Shifting to the side, he retrieved a strange black artefact from the ground with an ornate barrel and handles protruding haphazardly from its length. He held it with practised comfort. The enigmatic man followed her eyes, realising her unspoken question.

    ¡°Um, yeah, this? Just ignore it for now?¡±

    Next, his face screwed into an irate frown and looked away, communing with the air once again. ¡°No, I wasn¡¯t talking to you, Lee. Just shut up for a second and let me report. Ja, the numbers don¡¯t lie, we got a rogue storyline for sure. The protagonist blew his head off, and the only major character we know looks to have gone feral.

    ¡°Where¡¯s a fucken Ex Machina when you need one right!¡±

    He surveyed the area.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say; I¡¯m no trauma counsellor.¡± Indicating her as he spoke. His language was nonsensical.

    ¡°Ja, we¡¯re in the red, though I don¡¯t know why we shouldn¡¯t just call it black. Maybe Evy is being sentimental again.¡± He paused and seemed thoughtful.

    ¡°Give me radio silence for now; gonna see how much I can salvage.¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Dragging his full attention back to her, she saw pained eyes. The black artefact was absently slung on one shoulder as he crouched to appraise her.

    Time stretched to discomfit and then beyond to inurement all the while them both remaining silent. It was a detached look he gave, though not unfriendly. His marine blue eyes mulling over her as a healer might assess someone ill or injured.

    His gaze lingered on the strange black jacket gifted from Gavin. It fit her diminutive figure well, though she knew not why. A good omen she supposed, but that was before¡­

    Their eyes met, and long moments passed. Thoughts played behind those cool irises as he shifted casually, perhaps weighing options. The tension in her body ebbed piecemeal as they watched each other and Keya¡¯s breath slowed. Finally, he gave a slight smile and shrugged.

    ¡°Okay, Ms Keya Ces. There are many ways this conversation could go. We are very far off-script, and I have no idea what to say, so I give up. Instead, you ask the questions.¡± He waited.

    ¡°A-Are you going to kill me, or do you mean me harm?¡± Knowing her fate was paramount.

    ¡°No and no.¡± There was a hearty chuckle as he shook his head.

    ¡°Are the direwolves dead?¡±

    ¡°I fucken hope so, please don¡¯t tell me you have undead in this world!¡± He sighed. ¡°No heartbeats and they¡¯re not moving. That¡¯s the best I can do.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°I know not what nightmarish land you hail from where the dead can move. If the spirit no longer fills their chests and their hearts cease to beat, then they are dead. Did you kill them?¡±

    ¡°Those two, sure.¡± his thumb pointing half-heartedly.

    ¡°Are you a mage?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± He looked cheerful at the fact.

    She narrowed her eyes ¡°Then how did you kill them? They died where they stood, where were you?¡±

    ¡°Ah, right.¡± He nodded and glanced down at his black artefact. ¡°It was¡­ magic, you got me. No way I could have killed them without magic.¡± came his sing-song reply.

    ¡°So, you are not a mage, but you admit you use magic?¡±

    Squinting one eye closed. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°You are a strange man. Just who are you?¡±

    ¡°Oh, good! An easy question!¡± Honest relief flooded his face. ¡°Call me Jon or Kel.¡±

    ¡°Jon or Kel?¡±

    ¡°Jonathan first name, Kelly last name, take your pick.¡±

    ¡°Alright, Jonathan, how do you know my name?¡± Fortune or fate had toyed with her quite enough. Nothing more would be left to chance. This ¡®Jon¡¯ was most certainly a peculiar and dangerous man. A dash home through the forest alone was a gamble she would willingly take. However, this man¡¯s suspicious magicks, should he turn them on her, could thwart any attempt. Indeed, she was cursed this day.

    ¡°Kak, we¡¯re back to the difficult questions.¡± He stood up, scratching the back of his head and ruffling his hair slightly. ¡°Magic!¡± Pronouncing such an unabashed lie, he puffed his chest in pride.

    ¡°There is no such magic to scry one¡¯s name. You lie human. How long have you stalked us?¡±

    ¡°No! I would never! Okay, kinda.¡±

    Awaiting better explanations, Keya fixated on him.

    Foregoing all pretence, he threw hands up dismissively. ¡°Fuck, shit, bliksem, donner, kak, fok!¡± Innocent soil received his frustrations with kicks and stamping before talking to the sky. ¡°Okay Kay, fuck it. I¡¯ll give you what I can, but I can¡¯t tell you everything, because you won¡¯t understand everything.¡± he pointed. ¡°Fuck I¡¯ll be lucky if you understand anything, but the god of this world appears to have given you a brain so here we go!¡±

    ¡°I do not understand what my brain has to do with it,¡± said Keya.

    ¡°You see! Fucken medieval anatomy, I¡¯m fucked. We¡¯re fucked,¡± said Jon.

    ¡°You are a mad man!¡±

    Lifting a finger as if to calm his thoughts and pause, he began again. ¡°That man,¡± gesturing to the grisly mess that was Gavin, ¡°was the saviour of this world. Not just your saviour, but likely this whole land. Call it ¡®destiny¡¯ or ¡®fate¡¯, or whatever funny name you people use. This was supposed to be the late Mr Gavin Steward¡¯s rise to fame. The god who created this world deemed it so.

    ¡°Not any more! Why is that you ask? Because this mighty god made a mistake, at least one, probably more. He set the odds too slim, tweaked his adversaries too strong, and failed to account for that fucken root! After that, Gavin only needed a nudge. A flap of a butterfly¡¯s wings in some far off place, to make him stumble. Like a visitor from another realm, for example.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a god?!¡± asked Keya.

    ¡°Wait, what? No! Hell no! I just told you your world is ending, and that¡¯s what you got from this? No, I¡¯m not a god damned god!¡±

    ¡°But you know the god that created this world, and it is just one?¡±

    ¡°No, and yes, and neither.¡± Replied Jon. ¡°Let¡¯s just stick with the analogy. What you need to know is this: A bad person or a bad thing is coming, and it¡¯s gonna win because no one will be there to stop it.¡±

    ¡°Like the war up north?¡±

    ¡°Maybe, I don¡¯t know. Our knowledge is incomplete. We knew about Gavin, and we just confirmed you.¡±

    ¡°¡®We¡¯? Why am I important?¡± asked Keya.

    ¡°I have helpers; they speak to me. You will not see them. Let¡¯s call them spirits for now. As for you, I don¡¯t know. Could be you did little. That¡¯s unlikely. I am well acquainted with the gods¡¯ creations; they follow patterns.¡± said Jon. ¡°Could be you needed Gavin to unlock your power, or you managed on your own. Let¡¯s hope for the latter, though that¡¯s of little consequence now. However big a piece of the puzzle you and other comrades were supposed to be, Gavin was undoubtedly the largest by far. So I think we¡¯re fucked, or more specifically you¡¯re fucked. I can check out, though it¡¯s gonna look bad on my record.¡±

    ¡°You speak of events as though they have already come to pass,¡± said Keya.

    ¡°Not anymore, they haven¡¯t anymore¡­¡± He trailed off, scanning the surroundings. ¡°Go or stay, Keya. It matters little at this point. I have clean up to do; there are rules regarding what I leave behind, so I¡¯ll stay the night. You¡¯ll likely not make the village by nightfall, and you look like shit anyway. Make your call.¡± He levelled his eyes at her. ¡°There, exposition done! I¡¯ve got bullets and casings to find.¡± And with that, the lunatic sauntered off.

 1.4 Camping and Confusion

    Keya Ces kept on eyeing the man every time he came near, but Jonathan interacted little after that; instead, briefly traipsing into the forest and busying himself with other strange trinkets on the wolves. Before long, he was bloodied up to the elbows from such morbid work, so he moved to the stream to wash up.

    Seeing Keya was still there, he dug into his pack and produced a bar of snow-white soap and finely tailored towels, the likes of which she had never seen before. He placed them on the gravel and then backed away. She cautiously approached, tentatively poking the bundle. The fabric felt like down feathers on her calloused skin.

    ¡°Wash your hands and feet.¡±

    She jerked in fright as he broke the silence.

    ¡°Ensure you soap up the wounds and cuts.¡± He looked her up and down. ¡°I¡¯ll get you a change of clothes.¡±

    ¡°To sully such intricate material with my filth would be a travesty!¡±

    The enigmatic man only gave her an arched eyebrow as he stalked off to other tasks.

    The soap stung at first, but discomfort quickly died away. There was a subtle clean scent to it as Keya bathed. Her dirty night robe cast aside and the black jacket carefully folded on the bank. What fool would bring such luxuries into the forest? She indulged regardless.

    Shadows were long by now, casting a brisk shade over the stream and her fateful tree as she returned to the bank. The inscrutable man was further off beginning a fire.

    Near the base of the trunk lay a pair of boots and a huntsman outfit identical to his; although, to her utter surprise, everything fit perfectly. The footwear and socks were an even greater mystery. Quite mundane to the eye, the socks magically conformed as if tailored to her bony limbs alone. And, with the padded contours of each boot, it provided support that beggared belief. I could run for hours without so much as an ache in these. The thought of fleeing was tempting, solely to steal such garb for herself. A glance showed her benefactor blithely oblivious, but that was almost certainly a ruse. With circumstances appearing safe for the moment, Keya deferred anything rash.

    She had never worn a leather chest piece before; as such, she decided to forego the armour for the under-shirt and Gavin¡¯s bestowed jacket. Questions buzzed in her mind as she reluctantly approached the fire. But instead of further interrogation, she mutely sat on a nearby rock. In no more than a day, she had met two mysterious humans. How long until this one dies, I wonder?

    Jon glanced up from his fire stoking. ¡°Can you show me your hands?¡±

    He demonstrated, and she copied.

    ¡°Right, now turn them over. Good, looks like the soap did its job. Your wounds are clean and should heal quickly, mostly dermal damage. You¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°You are a healer too?¡± Had this man, unbidden, given her some magical medicinal soap? Observing her previously ruddy and inflamed wounds, they had indeed calmed considerably.

    ¡°Huh? No, field triage is part of standard training, but this hardly counts. I have some supplies and equipment, that¡¯s all. Though to you, I suppose¡­¡± Stroking his chin. ¡°Keep the soap.¡±

    ¡°Such a valuable salve¡­¡±

    ¡°Nah-uh-uh, another conversation branch please; I didn¡¯t dive into a magical world to talk about soap for five minutes. I¡¯m glad you wore the composite weave shirt at least. That biker jacket is pretty ¡®n all, but it hardly offers much protection.¡±

    ¡°You know of this garment? You are just like him; offering treasures and riches like so much chaff to a stranger!¡± Keya was touched and frustrated all at once.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not. Gavin¡¯s dead, and I¡¯m an arsehole with a vested interest. Speaking of the dead, what do you wanna do with the bodies?¡± He off-handedly waved in their direction.

    Such insensitivity gnawed at her. ¡°Have you no respect for the departed?!¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s call it overwhelming respect for the living, and honestly I don¡¯t know your customs. Your world, your rules. The hero¡¯s gear is looted and over there, take what you need.¡±

    He gestured to a pack and belted sword nearby. ¡°As for disposal, the ground here is too hard. I¡¯m not spending the night digging six feet, so our choice is a stone grave or cremation. The pyro in me favours flames, and I got the fuel. What say you, fair maiden?¡± He ended off in a patronising trill and a facetious flair of hands.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Ignoring his antics, she replied, ¡°Had we a proper Earth mage, it would be trivial. My meagre affinity is insufficient.¡±

    ¡°You can use magic!¡± His eyes glittered like a little child; the abrupt change was jarring.

    ¡°Mere parlour tricks,¡± said Keya. ¡°Moving a pebble across the ground, or water in a cup is the extent of my powers. Multi-affinity mages are rarely very potent.¡±

    ¡°Show me!¡± insisted Jon.

    ¡°You jest!¡±

    ¡°C¡¯mon show me.¡±

    Humouring him, she picked a nearby stone. Extending her mind, she felt the rock in contact with her being. It became part of her senses as did a small part of the earth it touched. With a gesture of her hand, it rolled weakly across the ground as if prodded by a feather. The palm waving was unnecessary but helped with focus. She felt it move like a touch running across her skin. It was not particularly draining, but all the same, a rather pointless show of potency.

    Jon scuttled from his seat, eyeing it only breaths away and sweeping his hands all around as if looking for invisible strings.

    Keya shook her head in misapprehension, ¡°You kill direwolves with ease, and yet dance like a little child at seeing a stone move.¡±

    ¡°You can only move earth?¡±

    ¡°Stone, metal, and ice; wood as well if it is dead,¡± said Keya. ¡°They are comprised of the earth element. If the spirit still lives, it is shielded.¡±

    ¡°Ice is Earth?¡± asked Jon.

    ¡°Of course, have you not been taught of the elements? Earth, water, wind, and fire. How is it that your realm is so ignorant of such trivial things. A babe barely able to walk would know as much.¡±

    ¡°And ice is part earth?¡± Completely unperturbed by her condescension, he pressed on, eyes transfixed to the stone.

    ¡°Why yes, how else could Earth mages move it?¡± replied Keya.

    ¡°And what about corpses?¡±

    ¡°Those such as the wolves might be moved along the ground by an adept Earth mage or floated down a river by Water adepts. They are too heavy to be carried by wind, and the bodies themselves are of mixed water and earth. Mixed elements are the realm of the divine, difficult for even the most powerful and oft taboo.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, this word ¡®element¡¯, I don¡¯t think it means what you think it means,¡± said Jon.

    The elf ignored his ridiculous riddles, ¡°Were we closer to the village I might call on helpers to retrieve these beasts. Their meat and hides would be valued in a poor backwater such as ours. As it is, the miasma and flies will taint them by tomorrow. Fire for all is our best recourse; I will prepare the rites for Gavin-sun.¡±

    ¡°You want the wolves back at the village?¡± Jon Asked.

    ¡°Impossible, as I¡¯ve said.¡±

    ¡°Give me a sec.¡± He ruffled around in his pack and produced a dinner plate-sized package with crumpled and loose material covering the interior. On closer inspection, it was a wider textile rim that was twisted and folded in on itself multiple times. It gave the impression of tightly stacked rings covered in cloth. Unfolding the curio, it sprung open, and the fabric pulled taut into a man-sized circle. The previously creased material became flat as tanned hide stretched over a drum, one side silver and the other white. The opened up linen strung ring shared parallels to embroidery hoops used by women of the village, though of course much bigger.

    ¡°What manner of new magic is this?¡± Keya was seriously wondering how in all the land his pack stored so much. More sorcery, no doubt.

    ¡°Magic? Nah, this doubles as a sun reflector, the ¡®magic¡¯ starts now.¡±

    He struggled with the cloth hoop as it billowed slightly in the wind. Eventually, he found a flat spot and placed it down. With the silver disk settled on the grass, he stepped back.

    ¡°Okay Evy, activate it. Connect to the cold room.¡±

    The metallic fabric shifted, and a strange glow emanated from the ring in the dusky half-light. Keya stood and stared in shock, a mist gathered at the threshold beyond which was a hole, a room! Arcane lights and metal shelves adorned the cellar beyond. Only, the orientation was all wrong. The shelves faced¡­ down. But the contents remained stuck as though fastened where they were. The sight was maddening, but Keya could not bear to look away.

    ¡°What¡­ is¡­ that?¡± Her words escaped in shuddered breaths.

    Jon gave her an appraising look. ¡°A bit too much for your mind to handle just yet, I think. Turn away; your vitals are registering a panic attack.¡±

    Mentally she understood the words, but her limbs and senses were bewitched.

    Approaching carefully and obscuring the view, Jonathan gently grasped her shoulders. With her vision unfocused on his chest, she at long last dragged them up to his face. There was weighty compassion in his expression. As if those becalmed eyes had beheld unfathomable wonders and horrors; not the eyes of any human she knew, not even Sir Steward¡¯s.

    ¡°Turn around, tend to Gavin. I will move the wolves.¡±

    Guiding her away, she tarried for long moments hearing the man heave and grunt as bodies were being dragged. One by one she heard carcasses scrape on gravel before flopping and banging against hard floor. Activity eventually trailed into silence, though she dared not glance to check. Words failed to describe what her eyes had seen, and any further contemplation might shred what sanity she had left. And yet, try as she might, the vision was seared into memory.

    ¡°Okay, you can look again.¡± Jon stood in the empty clearing, folding the hoop compact once more. The wolves were gone; smeared bloodstains trailed towards a spot and then disappeared.

    ¡°You-, what-, I-¡±

    ¡°Tar, pitch, oil, and coal, are these words familiar to you?¡±

    ¡°T-They are.¡±

    ¡°Good, choose one or more. I¡¯ll gather wood. We won¡¯t have enough for a full pyre, so fuel will do the rest.¡±

    An hour later they solemnly watched as the makeshift pyre burnt. A mix of pungent lamp oils ensured it burnt hot, and Keya said a quiet prayer to the Affinities, just as Grandpa had taught her years ago. Gavin-sun¡¯s spirit would surely find peace if his brief time with her were any indication.

    Jonathan shuffled away shortly after to prepare food by the campfire.

    Mercifully, they supped in silence since Keya¡¯s mind felt raw, and her body drained. Little attention was paid to her surroundings as night came. She bored her gaze into the glowing embers, muddled and disquieting thoughts all the while dancing through her mind. An untold time later, she found herself in a luxuriously plush bedroll. Comfortably warm and dogged by exhaustion, sleep inexorably claimed her consciousness.

 2.1 A Heros Welcome

    As the events of the afternoon and evening unfolded Jonathan Kelly quickly realised he was going to have his hands full with this elf. She was naive, confused, suspicious, and worst of all, she was smart.

    This whole operation had become a slow-motion car crash; I don¡¯t recall a storyline going this dark this quickly. Was it me? I stuck to protocol, textbook non-interference until now.

    After a wash in the river, ¡®elf¡¯ cleaned up rather well, those ears, twitching incessantly, were mighty distracting. Aside from that, she was rather attractive¡ªmain character of course¡ªthough her traumatised company was a tiny consolation. This was a horrible first contact. Sure, he¡¯d seen far worse, but those weren¡¯t going to be documented in his performance metrics. Not my fault, not my fault! HQ can eat a dick I did things by the book, except this book is just a little temperamental. Not my fault.

    Whatever brainiacs decided to roster him for scouting were most assuredly pissing their pants at this very moment. Served them fucking right. At least it was isolated to one native, who was a solid ¡®in¡¯ to the main storyline.

    He nearly broke her mind a second time when he opened a rift into his cold room. No good deed goes unpunished he supposed. After food and hydration, she was entirely out of it, didn¡¯t even ask about night-watch. Fortunately, he could just put his assault rifle on a gimbal mount, and along with the sensor buoy, Evy was the best watchman around.

    Avoiding friendly fire was not the AI¡¯s strong suit, but so long as target distinction was minimal, they were good. She¡¯d wake him with gunfire or an alarm whichever came first.

    Slumming it with the natives did leave them a little exposed, but he couldn¡¯t introduce Kay to the bunker just yet. With her reaction to the cold room alone, he¡¯d have to take it slow and steady to keep her an asset. What would he do if he lost her, too; he had no idea.

    ¡°I¡¯m a development specialist, not a trailblazer,¡± he mumbled. "What the donner were you thinking Dive Command!¡±

    Lee replied in audio chat. ¡°For better or worse they got you Kel. Work your angles. A lot of innocents suffer if this world is condemned. Let¡¯s make sure your sorry ass isn¡¯t the only one they get.¡±

    ¡°Copy that.¡±

    He tried to get some rest, but fitful sleep carried Jon through the night. He was almost relieved when morning glared at them with its first sun rays, almost. The sleeping bags and bedrolls were cocooning them from the morning frost. Jon kicked the warmth off; he¡¯d remained clothed underneath.

    Despite the quizzical stares he got from the girl every time he retrieved something, there was basically only one thing in his bag, one essential thing. A silver ring about a forearm in diameter was contained within. Very similar to the broader rift he used yesterday, it departed in design by having an adjustable iris diaphragm. Its function was identical to camera apertures. It was motorised and automated, controlled mainly by Evy. A manual lever could also be engaged for non-standard retrieval and deposits. This allowed telescoping to various circular sizes, from a dinner plate down to a test tube or even pin-sized orifices. Jon mostly used it for handheld items.

    It connected to another iris on moving horizontal and vertical rails back at base. Evy managed indexing the shelves for the most part. Through this Rift inventory, he retrieved and stowed everything he ever needed in the field. That¡¯s where the bedrolls and sleeping bags came from and returned to. Compactly rolled up, he pushed them through the rift in his sack to their allocated shelves on the other side. The bag never swelled with contents because it was a portable door, not a storage device. He did this, all the while under the steely, but groggy, gaze of bright green eyes. You don¡¯t wanna see another Rift, trust me, girl. Just misconstrue me as some kind of quirky wizard. Save your sanity for later.

    He briefly checked Gavin¡¯s gear but found nothing of interest: Some rations and flasks with liquid, ¡®potions¡¯ no doubt. Aside from his small canvas pack was the dull short sword in its scabbard and belt. They were all Kay¡¯s by right; she was likely the next best main character he¡¯d ever get.

    The trek back to the village progressed without event. Jon stowed his rifle as they approached. It was a small hamlet he¡¯d seen from far off. The tracker on Gavin¡¯s pack had been placed before reaching this village, and Jon had shadowed him mostly out of sight through this part.

    There was no fanfair as they approached. A rough-looking farmhand stared on, leaning on his hoe. And a wizened old lady scrutinized them from her porch as they passed. The looks they gave, mostly to Keya, were not friendly.

    What was the word he was looking for, ah yes ¡®unfriendly¡¯. ¡®Un-fucken-friendly¡¯ was the technical term. Jon knew a plot flag when he saw one and loosened the concealed holster for his pistol under his jacket.

    ¡°So Kay, is there anything you¡¯d like to mention at this point?¡±

    ¡°My name is Keya; ¡®tis short enough a name already I should think.¡±

    A sidelong glance revealed no mirth on her face. Thoughts occupied. Jon just waited for the information he knew was forthcoming.

    ¡°I have never been well-liked in this village.¡±

    ¡°Let me guess: you and Grandpa are the only elves in town. Moved here when you were young, parents died mysteriously, and you barely knew them.¡±

    ¡°That is exactly so! How did you know?¡± Her brow furrowed in suspicion at him once more. He was growing to like it, those thin kitted eyebrows and the way her ears twitched were kinda cute. Regarding her backstory, he had of course been listening in when Gavin set off on his quest to rescue the damsel.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°Only so many ways to write a supporting character. Especially one who¡¯ll follow a complete stranger off on a dangerous adventure. Good thing you¡¯re wearing that sword. You might need it.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? Jon, speak clear! Your riddles are infuriating!¡±

    He huffed. ¡°How many people irrationally hate you or your kind in this town and are able-bodied enough to act on it?¡±

    They moved through an eerily silent public square¡ªa mostly hard-packed dirt expanse framed by decrepit wooden lodges¡ªand were heading towards a lone hut on a small rise near the partly deforested woods. Jon removed a flashbang from his pack and hooked it on his belt.

    ¡°There are no¡ª¡± even as she tried to deny his words, he saw inevitable recognition cross her face.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need names, Ms Ces, just their leader¡¯s appearance and numbers.¡±

    ¡°Four maybe five, Gillian has a freckled complexion with red hair,¡± said Kay, her face was grim.

    ¡°Is killing acceptable?¡±

    ¡°What!? No! They are but naive youths. With fathers drafted into the war, their frustration is understandable.¡±

    ¡°Fuck, there goes the easy way. Well, it¡¯s your story, but my bruises.¡±

    Jon retrieved his spiked shock gloves, and a taser gun. It could manage two shots at close range.

    ¡°Please say there are no magic users.¡±

    ¡°None.¡±

    ¡°Finally, some good news.¡± His tone was flat. ¡°We confront them in the open, I need them drawn out. When I say the magic word ¡®zebra¡¯, you are to shut eyes, cover your ears and turn away. We can¡¯t have those pretty little listeners damaged so early in the plot now can we.¡±

    Keya¡¯s cheeks reddened despite the grave situation.

    ¡°More of your magics no doubt.¡±

    ¡°You got that right princess! Your job is to keep them talking. Sanctimonious gloating would be best. I doubt they¡¯ll need encouragement.¡±

    ¡°I am not royalty,¡± said Kay.

    In a lower murmur as they moved closer, ¡°Uh-huh, I¡¯ll take you up on that bet. Drop packs here. Need to be mobile.¡±

    Approaching the decrepit hut, he stuck his sensor buoy down again, having to force it into the hard ground with his foot.

    ¡°Signs of forced entry on the door latch.¡± Jon took off the safety on his various weapons.

    Keya readied her hand on Gavin¡¯s sword despite earlier comments.

    Five silhouettes were approximately extrapolated via visualisation software inside the timeworn hut. He glanced around for ambushers and saw no one else nearby. One figure lay on the floor surrounded by the others.

    They stopped about 10 metres away from the hut.

    Keya announced herself. ¡°Grandpa? Are you there?¡±

    The figures started sharply toward the door, and one grabbed the prone body dragging it out the door and into the late morning sun.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s not good.¡±

    Jon heard Keya¡¯s breath shudder as she made to rush forward.

    ¡°Grandpa?!¡± she cried. Jon kindly but firmly grabbed her shoulder.

    ¡°Hold it, Kay, one hostage is enough. I need clear sightlines.¡± His voice the impassive tone reserved for combat.

    ¡°Ah, so the whore returns, and with a new man I see.¡± The lout dragging the elder elf was undoubtedly Gillian. His cronies were in tow as he stepped off the creaking porch onto boot hardened ground.

    Keya was already sobbing uncontrollably, but she stood firm to her credit.

    ¡°Gillian! What have you done?!¡±

    ¡°What me?¡± His tone incredulous ¡°Ralfen here is to blame.¡± He gestured to the unconscious elder. ¡°With the war, food has become scarce in our village. We had become concerned that perhaps you and your grandfather were hoarding an unfair share. Just look at your complexion! You seem healthy and hale to me!¡±

    Magnanimous innocence painted his features. ¡°With you disappearing in the night. A supposed ¡®goblin attack¡¯. We took it upon ourselves to do a bit of ¡®investigating¡¯. Lo and behold, you return unscathed, and with such finespun clothing no less.¡± There was a smarmy undertone in his every word.

    ¡°He¡¯s really well-spoken for a country bumpkin,¡± interjected Jon.

    ¡°And you sir, do you know of this wench¡¯s lowly character. She¡¯d plough just about anyone for a copper. Do yourself a favour, and leave before she tosses you aside too.¡±

    Through all this, the group of young men had been approaching. Keya¡¯s bony shoulder under his hand was also shaking. At first from weak sobbing to a far more familiar shudder as he saw clenched fists whitening her knuckles. She stood rigid now and said nothing.

    The group was staring at him as if waiting for a response. Gillian dropped grandpa¡¯s foot and walked closer with his gang hoping to surround the duo. Jon tried to reply when all of a sudden, the earth swallowed Gillian¡¯s foot up to his knee.

    Gillian made an awkward squawk looking incredulously at his leg. Then recovered enough to yell: ¡°Get her!¡±

    ¡°Kak! Zebra! Fokken Zebra!¡± Jon drew the taser sequentially zapping two approaching youths, they collapsed and convulsed on the ground as he dropped the spent device trailing the conductive cables. Next, he angled to the last mobile member and dashed forward.

    His shock gloves had two inconspicuous steel spikes protruding from the two front knuckles. They could pierce most fabrics and thinner leathers with enough force. The electrified pins would then find succulent flesh to conduct through below. This time, however, he opted for opening his palm, exposing another two steel plates on his index and middle finger.

    The third lackey was somewhat flustered, seeing the state of his brethren. A perfectly reasonable response that slowed his reactions just enough for Jon to grab his wrist and execute a hip throw. The luckless sod no longer had to wonder at his comrades¡¯ fates, instead, experiencing electrocution first-hand. Being thrown on the hard ground didn¡¯t help either as he quickly succumbed to unconsciousness.

    Gillian remained literally rooted with one limb in the ground. He had unsheathed a small dagger that he swung wildly but in vain. No one was in reach. Jon approached the idiot from behind as he saw Keya gesturing with a rather aggressive crushing motion, and Gillian gave a yelp.

    Jon took the opportunity to kidney punch him in the back; the shock pins sunk in snugly through his shirt, and he struggled momentarily before going limp. Gillian fell backwards as Jon stepped away.

    His elven cohort still stood rigid, boring her vision into the ring leader. ¡°I said ¡®Zebra¡¯, twice! We¡¯re gonna have to work on your listening skills.¡± Her actions made the flashbang moot, but he left that out.

    The chastisement pulled her back to her senses. ¡°Grandpa!¡± She rushed over to the prone elder ignoring everything else.

    Jon disarmed and secured the men with heavy-duty cable ties on their hands and feet, save for Gillian whose lower leg was securely sealed in the hard dirt. His hands alone were restrained. Neutralizing threats came before triage.

    Even so, he¡¯d known of poor Ralfen¡¯s condition for some time now. It was very stable though not in a favourable way. Moving over, he did the perfunctory pulse and breathing checks while Keya cradled him in her knees.

    ¡°Is he¡­?¡±

    Jon gave a short, dismissive shake of his head.

    The stricken girl gazed blankly at the ground, breaking down into wailing sobs.

    It was not the kind of stoic scene one might see in a movie. There was no grace or dignity. She simply heaved and sputtered rocking the bleeding and swollen body of her last family member, and perhaps only friend.

    Willing himself to feel her anguish, he dared not look away. For the sake of all the little people, I too will bear your pain elf girl.

 2.2 Sentencing with Sentences

    Everyone was gathered from the measly little town. Jon personally knocked on each door and told¡ªno ordered¡ªthem to move to the scene on the rise in front of Keya¡¯s hut.

    They stood impassively looking at the restrained men and Keya. A sorry bunch, poor peasant folk either too old or too young to be drafted. The women and Gillian¡¯s gang were exceptions. These boys had either serendipitously or purposefully avoided the ''honourable'' call to arms. Several towns were in notably similar states during his scouting. The group numbered twenty or so, malnourished and grimy.

    As he paced up and down a dusty path wore into the arid soil. The four culprits had awoken, but they sat bound and resolute on the ground.

    ¡°Who amongst you is in charge?¡± he asked.

    The ringleader, one leg still rooted in the ground, opened his mouth to speak but-

    ¡°Shut the fuck up Gillian. I meant people who actually care about consequences.¡±

    Then after a deathly pause, the humourless woman he saw earlier on a porch hobbled forward.

    ¡°How may I address you, ma¡¯am?¡±

    She looked about as if to gain assurance from the others (none was forthcoming). ¡°My name is Hilda. I am the village elder.¡± She croaked.

    ¡°Alright Hilda, my name is Jon.¡±

    Scanning the reticent bunch, he pressed on.

    ¡°I am a traveller who was assisting the kindly Ms Ces on her trek back to this humble hamlet of yours. Goblins kidnapped her, you see, a terrible business that.¡± Pause for effect. ¡°We returned only to find Mr Ces here in less than ideal condition, ostensibly in the care of these four lads.¡±

    Smiling sickly sweet, he continued.

    ¡°What pray tell is the punishment for murder in this proud, law-abiding community?¡±

    Keya was still kneeling on the ground with Ralfen¡¯s head in her lap.

    Hilda stared on unyielding. ¡°This,¡± she glanced impassively at the captives, ¡°is a local matter, outsider. It is of no concern to you how our kingdom metes out justice.¡±

    ¡°No concern you say!¡± Jon huffed out a forced laugh that turned maniacal. He covered his eyes. ¡±Oh, how mistaken you are. These noble youngsters are a fucken big problem for me!¡± It was soliloquy time. "You see, we find ourselves in a story that no longer has a hero, but numerous villains might still appear, or we might unintentionally create them.

    ¡°Indeed, I could kill them. We are, after all, in a state of cold war and under quarantine. No correctional facilities, so capital punishment may be the only justice available. They represent a threat to the mission, and it is well within my power to make the call.

    ¡°But,¡± taking a breath ¡°what of their loved ones? Say I kill them and then their father, mother or perhaps a sibling swears bloody vengeance on Keya and me. Alas, my actions have birthed the monster I wished to avoid, an all too common trope; trust me on that.

    ¡°So let us perhaps ponder your way.¡± Jon ruffled one boy¡¯s hair and stared him down. ¡°We pull these men in front of a local lord, and I would be more than happy to do that civic duty, rest assured! And what would this lord do? It is wartime as we all know, coincidently here are four able-bodied young men. Why kill them when you could instead send them to die?

    ¡°Again we have a quandary; my journeys will undoubtedly take me to the front lines where I least wish to find familiar adversaries. Not to mention that however lowly in character these individuals are, they¡¯re still robustly healthy members of a community entering winter.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    ¡°To be rid of them is to punish you. And we¡¯re back where we started.¡±

    Crouching in front of Gillian, he met his eyes. An unrepentant smirk was plastered across the fool¡¯s face.

    ¡°Instead of vengeful retribution, how do I inspire cowardly shame?¡±

    That smirk quickly faded into uncertain terror.

    ¡°Fortunately for you, even in this lawless backwater, I am a creative man of means!¡±

    Jon pulled out a pen and wrote on his hand. ¡°Keya, can you read this?¡±

    She looked up. ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Please read it for me.¡±

    ¡°It says: ¡®Murderer: Ralfen¡¯ in Common.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful! You guys read English.¡± No one made further comment.

    Jonathan activated the accelerometer rings on his fingers; they were nothing but thin skin coloured bands on each digit, barely visible. He typed a chat message with his fingers using specific combination taps on his thigh.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna speak to the spirits now.¡± He said to the crowd, which naturally prompted murmurs.

    ¡°Lee, are we clear for a Snowcrash conviction?¡± The speaker-phone on the sensor buoy activated.

    Instead of AR chat, Lee¡¯s voice was heard by all. ¡°Yeah, Evy registers extrapolations with the least chance of antagonist cascades.¡± His voice projected quite well in the vicinity along with his distinctively Australian tang.

    Jon made a point of keeping his mouth clamped shut throughout the reply, and the theatrics got him a few startled jumps and whimpers.

    ¡°Cunt, did you just put me on speaker?¡±

    ¡°That I did, Lee. Get the patches printed and sent.¡±

    The exchange prompted the village elder to kneel, and the rest of the clearly frightened folk followed suit.

    Hilda spoke. ¡°We had no idea you were a mage, Lord Jon. We meant no disrespect.¡± She was almost prostrate. ¡°Please! Do not set your vengeful spirit upon us.¡±

    He rolled with it, shock and awe were useful allies in this ruse. Also the more they wrongfully assumed of him the less they actually knew, making later descriptions of this event further misleading.

    In another world¡ªanother universe in fact¡ªan idle printer was sent instructions for fifteen characters on two lines in Times New Roman font with the first word in bold capitals. It printed and cut four copies in seconds and dropped the finished products through a very similar iris, falling through a few more rifts until they made it to a shelf full of cylindrical recesses. It was like a wine cellar but with varied circular sizes far larger, and a few smaller, than most bottles. The strange shelf bisected a cluttered concrete room and was accessible from both sides. Jon stuck his hand in his bag through his iris and grabbed the ready-made white rectangles, having arrived only seconds ago, from said room. Each plastic adhesive pad had the identical, made to order, mirrored writing on them.

    Lee chimed in. ¡°I¡¯m getting coffee; set the discharge to standard 12 Volts DC. I better not be on loudspeaker when I get back; else I¡¯m putting on porn.¡± Jon flinched, he¡¯d made good on that threat more than once. By contrast, his audience quivered in fear at the ¡®spirit¡¯s¡¯ outburst.

    With little ceremony, he stuck the adhesive pads to the foreheads of each culprit and fed them power with is gloves. As electricity surged through conducting plates, thousands of microscopic plastic needles extended past the dermal layer. Pressurised ink, encapsulated behind the hollow needles, flowed through and deposited itself below the skin. The resulting activation made each person grunt from the sting. Gillian struggled the most. Finally, he ripped them off like duct tape, revealing a freshly bleeding tattoo that read:

    <blockquote>

    ''MURDERER:

    Ralfen''

    </blockquote>

    Turning them about, the crowd gave out surprised gasps as they witnessed the change.

    ¡°Welcome to your new lives, boys! To all who know you and all who will stay near you for the next ten years: friends, family, and lovers. They will read of your sin. You will wear it day and night. You may hide it behind a hat or cloth, but it will always be there, weighing on your mind as it were." Jon tapped his forehead for emphasis. Fear my puns peasants!

    ¡°Fear the lawmen, for if they see it, they may ask questions. These are your shackles. The ink is of a special type, and it will fade with time, by ten years it will be all but gone.¡±

    Gillian spoke up. ¡°Why should we believe you!¡±

    ¡°Oh, you doubt a mage¡¯s word?¡± Haughty huff. ¡°Believe me or don¡¯t, that is up to you. But the ink is pretty close to the scalp. You¡¯d have to cut or burn to the bone to remove it.

    ¡°My advice: wait the ten years. Either way, you¡¯re marked for a decade. But with my way, there¡¯s a chance you¡¯re not marred for life. It¡¯s a lenient sentence, trust me.¡± He squinted then turning to the elf, ¡°Is this sufficient Keya?¡±

    She was silent for long moments. ¡°It will have to do.¡± There was a chill in her eyes that he knew all too well.

    ¡°Well, you heard the lady. Get these boys outta here, and someone dig this arsehole out of the ground. If I see any one of them nearby again; I¡¯ll kill them myself.¡±

    He cut their cable ties, carefully hoisted Ralfen and walked with Keya back to her cabin.

 2.3 Endings and Beginnings

    The pyre for Ralfen burnt high in the clearing, amongst the felled tree trunks behind the cabin. There had been no shortage of firewood chopped for the coming winter. All diligently prepared by the man that now utilised them.

    Keya once again chanted the rote prayer to the gods, clearly and proudly. Grandpa deserved more, far more than she could give. Her tears did not flow this time. She had given all she had left already. This inadequacy tormented her. She had cried for herself and raged for herself. What emotions were left to send Grandpa off to meet the gods: none.

    When the boys had dragged Grandpa from her home, something inside her broke, and she had reached out instinctually. Her mind travelled through the ground, and she found far more purchase than ever before. She felt the surface of the hardened hill beneath Gillian¡¯s footfalls, and she found the earthen crack just beneath and ahead of him.

    Grandpa had instructed her to smooth it over. It took weeks of toil to get the barest of shifts in the soil. With time the gouge in the earth had slimmed and finally closed with her efforts. It would reappear from time to time, and she would extend and mend her work once more.

    That work was ripped asunder in seconds as Gillian¡¯s leg reached the mark, pulling the sand bridge apart exposing the earthen tear below. After which, she swiftly slid and secured the soil around his limb. She impotently tried to crush the leg as well.

    After which, Jon¡¯s antics finally pulled her from her blind rage, and she rushed to Ralfen. Little else mattered after that.

    The whimsical cruelty of his sentencing gave her brief catharsis, although that soon faded along with the rest of her emotions. Presently, she stood in front of a blaze consuming her only family member, trying desperately to feel something¡ªanything¡ªbesides emptiness.

    ¡°It¡¯s a much better fire this time around.¡± Jonathan was as inept as she felt with these situations.

    ¡°When you¡¯re done, I¡¯ll be inside.¡± He retreated to the cabin.

    Not until the pyre was mostly red hot coals, did she relinquish her gaze. All the while, not another tear was spilt.

    Back in the cabin, the rickety table and chairs were set straight, while the door still stood ajar on splintered hinges. Jon was seated, drinking from a mug. Across from him and in front of the only other unoccupied seat was food and drink laid out for her. On one of her wooden plates were nuts and jerky, and a cask of water. She sat down opposite him in silence, and although not at all hungry, she sampled the food as a perfunctory gesture.

    Her drink was graciously refilled from a flask without comment. The water was pure, and the nuts and meat were of a quality she could scarcely believe possible. It was the same as their prior two meals, but she only spare appreciation of it now.

    Keya''s mind aimlessly floated untethered, all secure moorings in the span of a mere day were ripped and torn from their anchors. Nothing felt certain or assuring anymore, equally there was nothing left to be threatened. Terrifying and liberating all at once, meagre recriminations and aspirations of her former self appeared starkly petty, vague, and distant. Ghostly silhouettes she could scarcely identify through the mists of apathy.

    By contrast, the world around her felt crisp and refined to the senses. Smells and sounds in the dingy single room house were acute. The floor planks revealed fine grains in the afternoon light, and she absorbed it all as if for the very first time.

    Gazing off to the semi-partitioned beds, she recalled countless days shared with Grandpa since she was small. This was her world, where she had spent most of her life. The books she had gleaned knowledge from were on a rickety old shelf to the side, and the humble hearth where she had cooked and warmed herself stood cold, dark, and dreary in a corner.

    ¡°Is that Ralfen¡¯s bed?¡± Jonathan asked when she had just about finished eating.

    ¡°Why, yes it is. How did you know?¡± said Keya.

    ¡°50/50 odds are pretty good. Aside from that, there¡¯s a stash under one of the planks. Did you know about it?¡± Replied Jon.

    ¡°Really? Which one?¡±

    ¡°The warped and discoloured wood.¡± He pointed to a plank that on further inspection was loose.

    Amazed, she retrieved an aged leather pouch underneath it. ¡°How did you-¡±

    ¡°Magic, let¡¯s just go with fucking magic for now.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°Very well ¡®mage¡¯.¡± She gave him an incredulous look. Returning to the table, she opened it. Inside the pouch was a yellowed piece of parchment and an unadorned leather-bound book. She unrolled the scroll revealing a letter in elegantly flourishing Elven script.

    <blockquote>

    ¡®To our dearest Keya,

    ¡®Please know that your mother and father love you very much, and we would not have sent you off with your grandfather, Ralfen, were there no other path. A chance at peace and happiness somewhere far away is the best we can offer you now. Our bloodline is both a gift and a curse. Perhaps one day you can find it in your heart to forgive us our weakness. We could not stay by you and protect you, and it will weigh upon our spirits for all eternity. Keep the book safe, and when you are ready, it will reveal itself to you.

    ¡®Eternal love,

    ''Aywin & Kali Ces¡¯

    </blockquote>

    Paging through the book, it was simply blank. Keya shook her head.

    ¡°Can I see the note?¡±

    Hesitating at first, she passed it.

    ¡°Autotranslate identifies this as Old Roman cursive, a slight derivative of Latin. Elven, huh? No point in reinventing the wheel I guess. You can read it, right?¡± Asked Jon.

    ¡°Of course, I could read and speak my mother tongue long before I learnt Common. The message, however, is no less cryptic.¡± Composing herself, she was about to explain when he interrupted.

    ¡°If Evy¡¯s translation is right, then this is a MacGuffin.¡±

    ¡°Who is this Evy you keep alluding to? Another spirit you commune with?¡± There certainly was no one else about. Earlier, she too had heard the voice of vengeful spirit ¡®Li¡¯. She gave a silent prayer of gratitude for his guidance in meting out justice. Of the little she understood from the spirit¡¯s pronouncements, she was convinced it guided Jon¡¯s hand to some degree.

    ¡°Sure, another spirit, why not,¡± said Jon.

    Keya replied. ¡°That mistress Evy could read Elven is commendable. Is she perhaps a spirit of the Fair Folk?¡±

    Jon gave a blank stare.

    She continued. ¡°Regardless, the missive made no mention of this ¡®Mag-A-Fin¡¯ you assert.¡±

    Pulling out more jerky, he lent back and chomped. ¡°It¡¯s a plot device, a thing that moves the story forward. Or, in words you¡¯ll understand: This clue about your bloodline gives you a direction to explore, and also a goal. My supposition: Ralfen would¡¯ve had last words for you. In the original telling of this story, he¡¯d have revealed the cache. I¡¯m sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°You repeatedly speak of this world as a tale written by some gods gone awry. Your crazed ramblings make little more sense beyond that. Explain.¡± If there were any sane explanations to be had, she would know them. Gods be damned, I will know.

    ¡°Well then Kay, I guess it¡¯s time.¡± Briefly putting up a hand to make her wait, he bent down and rummaged around in his pack. Returning, he brought two closed fists forward, only to withdrawal them seconds later, mumbling: ¡°Sunglasses, sunglasses where did I put them?¡± He returned to his sack. ¡°What? C¡¯mon, Lee! Y-¡± He sat up looking at the air, again. Does he not realise how crazed he seems? ¡°Alright. Fine! You have a point!¡± Clenched fists returned above the table, his expression dejected.

    Grunting to clear his voice, he began. ¡°I imagine that right now you¡¯re feeling a bit confused. Tumbling through events and disoriented.¡±

    ¡°I have said as much,¡± said Keya.

    ¡°And I can see it in your eyes. You have the look of a woman who accepts what she sees because she is expecting to wake up. This may not be far from the truth. Do you believe in fate?¡±

    ¡°Yes, no¡­ I¡¯m not sure anymore.¡±

    ¡°Umm, Really? Why?¡±

    ¡°Grandpa¡¯s books and stories, speak of the gods gently guiding our lives; however, after recent events¡­¡±

    ¡°Right! I know exactly what you mean.¡± He leaned forward. ¡°Let me tell you why you¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°Surely, why you are here is more important.¡± She asked.

    ¡°Actually, that¡¯s not far off, but I¡¯m speaking more figuratively. Why you¡¯re here is because you were meant to be something. This world was meant to be something. Whatever that was, we may never fully know, but you would have been a slave to it. Like everyone else here, you were born into a prison that you could not smell, taste, or touch.¡± Quieter. ¡°You may also have been happy...

    ¡°Now, there are no guarantees, not for you or this world.¡± His expression was briefly sombre. ¡°But what you have in return is a choice, one I never had,¡± said Jon.

    He opened his hands to reveal two smooth polished ovoid gems, one blue and one red. ¡°This is your chance; you take the blue pill, and the story ends; I disappear, and you believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, and I show you just how big this world truly is.¡±

    Keya asked. ¡°These ¡®pills¡¯, what are they?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re medicinal concoctions, you swallow one.¡± He replied.

    ¡°Surely, I can stay, and you can leave of your own accord. What need is there of such mystical remedies?¡±

    Jon placed both ¡®pills¡¯ on the table and palmed his face in both hands. ¡°Saint Picard, give me strength. Lee, I should have worn the sunglasses; no one backchats the sunglasses.¡± Sighing and looking up. ¡°They will prepare your mind for the path you take. The blue pill will allow you to move on from the tragedy of recent events. And should you come with me, the red pill will strengthen your resolve for the wonders and horrors you will undoubtedly face.

    ¡°But what they do is not as important as the choice you make. We write our own stories now. Make your call.¡± He leaned back on the chair, hands behind his head.

    Keya stared at the man as if trying to pierce his soul. This strange individual was very likely a seer, the likes of which she had read about in heroic tales of old. As a child, she wished to be whisked off by such characters into a world of adventure. Since then, life had taught her of its harsher realities. Such dreams inevitably faded. Now as if to mock her this crazed idiot s-

    ¡°You¡¯re internally monologuing aren¡¯t ya.¡±

    She swiped the red pill with little fanfare and swallowed it.

    ¡°Lekker.¡± A wide smile spread across Jon¡¯s face; standing, he outstretched his hand towards her and held it there.

    Quirking an eyebrow, she stared at it.

    ¡°It¡¯s a greeting from my world, just grab my hand and shake.¡±

    Sheepishly she did so, it was a firm but uncalloused grip.

    ¡°Welcome to the Dive Core recruit!¡±

 2.4 Egress

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t refuse the pills all together!¡± said Jon.

    ¡°That was an option?!¡± said Keya.

    ¡°Of course, rule 1, Kay: there are always more options. Still, the red pill is a fine choice, more folks than you¡¯d think choose blue.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve done this with others?¡±

    ¡°In other worlds, sure. But you are the first in this one, feel special.¡± Jonathan gave a brief smile.

    ¡°I am not certain it is working. I feel nothing different, and you still sound insane.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, wha-? Oh, the pill.¡± Something distracted him for a second. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s a bit more subtle than that. Just relax, it¡¯ll do its job.¡±

    He was standing by the hearth tentatively perusing Keya¡¯s humble childhood hovel. Turning about the human clapped his hands together. ¡±Right, it¡¯s time we moved on.¡±

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Asked Keya.

    ¡°I have no idea. Anywhere away from this village is an improvement and it¡¯s best we got out before dark. While my punishment of those boys will likely keep them in the village; we are far too tempting a target if we stay longer.¡±

    ¡°Surely the beasts of the forest are a greater threat than their measly gang. Why not wait the night and leave in the morning?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯m not going another night without a shower, that¡¯s why. And in case you weren¡¯t listening, I don¡¯t want to kill those fuckers if I can help it. Bringing to bear lethal force on beasties is no problemo. Fear not my savvy lass; we have the ultimate fall back position. You¡¯ll understand soon enough.¡±

    A sigh escaped her lips. ¡°Very well, Master, you have aided me thus far. I will trust your judgment a while longer. However, I demand clear answers when we reach this safe haven you speak of.¡±

    ¡°Master?!¡±

    ¡°Why yes, the rite you performed was initiation for apprenticeship, was it not? ''Twas a somewhat strange ritual, but magic masters are known to have their quirks. Am I mistaken?¡±

    Jona-, Master Kelly made to reply and then stopped. ¡°Emm, the analogue¡¯s not bad. But call me ¡®Jon¡¯ or ¡®Kel¡¯ if you like.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Master Kel.¡±

    ¡°That¡­ feels fucking weird.¡±

    ¡°Stop calling me Kay, and I will call you Kelly.¡±

    Their eyes met uncomfortably, Keya outlasted him.

    ¡°¡®Master¡¯ it is. On to other matters. Pack your things we gotta go.¡± Dismissively waving at her abode. ¡°Oh shit,¡± He looked up and to the side speaking to himself, or the spirits it seemed. ¡°I forgot about the wolves. Aight, imma open a rift round back and pull out two beasties. Hilda will get the heads up when we leave. I¡¯ll keep back one for samples and research. It might also make some good biltong and wors. After it clears the checks, of course. Any questions?¡±The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°A plethora.¡±

    ¡°Any questions about leaving?¡±

    ¡°I will have to leave behind most of my and Grandpa¡¯s belongings. This is quite sudden.¡±

    The smile presently writ upon his visage appeared truly genuine and mischievous. ¡°No you won¡¯t Kay, we¡¯re taking it all, take everything you want around back. Hell, even the chairs and table can come. People pay good money for this authentically rustic stuff, not to mention merchandising.¡±

    Jon walked out of the hut. Keya, quite incredulous at her new Master¡¯s boasted powers, nonetheless did as bade.

    When she circled out to the rear of the cabin, Master Kel had already ¡®retrieved¡¯ the wolves. They gave off a faint mist as if they were cold. Yet another impossible thing her mind had no means to explain. How? They were in the glade, the wounds all matched, and now they were here. Keya placed down her load and grasped a chilly hind limb; it was no fantasy. Prickly lupine fur rasped at her palm. Relinquishing her grip¡ªalong with a foundational grasp of nature¡ªshe held further inquiry at bay. If he could transport them, then her goods were a trifle, that was knowledge enough for the interim.

    She returned to her most prized possessions. Aside from her bow that was tragically splintered and strewn somewhere in the forest only two eves ago, her books were treasured above all else. Not sure how many she could bring, the entire book self had been dragged outside. If there was anything she wished to save, it was them.

    That vexing arcane disk was now pinned to the cabin¡¯s back wall. The orientation of the space beyond was correct this time, Gods be grateful, so it only moderately disconcerted her. The same rows of shelves were beyond with mystical bluish-white lights above. An assortment of colours and oddly gleaming packages assaulted her eyes. They were fabric sacks, had to be, from the way they sagged and creased under the burden of their contents. And yet their lustre, yes lustre like metal, denied they could be any manner of cloth or linen she knew. Perhaps it was well-oiled leather, but who would spare the expense? Though, the colours and gossamer thinness implied vellum. For food? In a larder? Keya shook the absurd deliberations from her mind. Worse still, the cloth was limpid like insect wings in some parts. More damned questions, I feel like I know less and less with each passing breath!

    Still, she was handling the sight far better this time around, the work of the ¡®pill¡¯ I wonder. All the same, she tore her gaze away; it was best not to strain the modicum of sanity inexplicably imbued upon her.

    ¡°Good, that¡¯ll do, just put everything down here, and I will move ¡®em through.¡± She did so and returned to her cabin, repeating the process. Getting the table out required both of them. Keya found herself simultaneously calmed and mystified by the mundane nature of the tasks. Her wares impossibly disappeared from the pile each time she returned with more.

    In no time her shack was all but bare. The beds remained, she saw no reason to leave the place unlivable. Let someone, whoever they may be, have shelter if they needed it. And with that, he nodded, and master along with apprentice departed. A lingering gaze, followed by prayer, stilled her heart at forsaking the only home she knew. Everything that might have drawn her back, save the walls themselves, was no longer there. Nay, it was with him. Keya withdrew her gaze, and they tarried no further.

    Moving down the hill, Master informed the surly Hilda of the carcasses behind their cabin and their plans to embark.

    Their load was light as Jonathan Kelly hoisted on his pack and exited the small village with Keya in tow. She still wore Gavin¡¯s black jacket though it no longer held the same mystique it once had.

    From stumbling out of that goblin cave only a day ago to her new apprenticeship, so much had changed. Despite the hardships, she felt an unfamiliar strength had taken root in her being. Maybe things would be all right.

 3.1 Down the Wabbit Hole

    Keya Ces kept apace behind the broad shoulders of her new Master. He was not as she envisioned a mage or nobility to be, neither frail from tireless study nor buxom from excessive feasting. Instead, kinship with silly childhood fables was all her mind could muster. He was decidedly not that! Nay, he need only speak, and such fancies were shattered. The queer accent and his baffling turns of phrase fit amongst no folk she knew. When he was not acting the court fool, however, his gaze spoke of discernment and acumen. And his miraculous feats belied more than foolery could ever obfuscate.

    As the sun pulled shadows from nearby trees lancing across the earthen path, they traipsed from Ravis Village and out of the valley. Master and neophyte kept a brisk pace. About a mile down the road, Jon abruptly turned off the pass heading for the mottled orange autumnal trees. Where they entered the underbrush, it showed absolutely no indication of any tracks or marker. Having spent much time surveying in the forest near her home, Keya¡¯s keen Elven eyes were sure of this.

    ¡°Master Kel, where are we heading?¡±

    ¡°Nowhere in particular; I just need a spot out of sight is all.¡±

    ¡°To what end?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡±

    Roughly three hundred yards further as they climbed over fallen trees and trudged through detritus, the ground levelled off near a jagged decaying stump.

    ¡°This¡¯ll do just fine,¡± he said, producing the same black orb Keya had seen before. Ascertaining a soft, rotted part of the stump, he wedged it in.

    ¡°What use is that trinket? You seem to place it everywhere.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an extra eye, for both me and Evy.¡± He touched his temple. ¡°Can see in ways and directions I cannot. Sight by sound and heat are some of its features. If we have been followed, it will give us fair warning.¡±

    ¡°Is it a trophy from a magical beast or a ritual artefact?¡±

    ¡°Neither Keya, none of the tools I use are magical. It is all technology devised following the most basic natural laws of the multiverse. It is called science.¡±

    ¡°But I have seen you perform feats only mages could manage, nay even the greatest spell weavers of legend may fall short. This ¡®science¡¯ is surely just magic of a different sort.¡±

    He huffed a kindly sigh. ¡°It¡¯ll take you a while to fully grasp even some of what you will see in the coming days; you have no framework to build on. Just sit back and enjoy the ride for now.¡± Retrieving a foot-long black stake from his pack, he passed it to her. ¡°This you might grasp sooner. Please describe it and what you can infer from its design.¡±

    She delicately held it at arm''s length. It may well be dangerous; my new Master is nothing if not capricious.

    ¡°It''s harmless.¡± He chuckled.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she said, relaxing. ¡°Please give such assurance beforehand, if you would be so kind. No ¡®framework¡¯, as you say.¡± Weighing and flicking it with a finger it produced a dull clack, with next to no repercussion. Sniffing it indicated some novel scents, but Keya was no goblin.

    ¡°Good! You¡¯ve got an inquisitive knack,¡± said Master while nodding.

    ¡°Too light to be metal, even hollowed, which it is.¡± She indicated the tightly packed folds of dull green and brown fabric protruding from the open end. ¡°Is it painted ivory or lacquered wood? The sheen of the surface feels and looks similar.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not wood or bone, but you¡¯re spot on with the density. It¡¯s a material your world has not invented yet: plastic.¡±

    ¡°¡®Plasstick.¡¯¡± Keya repeated, trying the word herself.

    ¡°An extremely versatile material. The carapaces of insects and shellfish are probably your closest analogues. Ninety per cent of my ¡®artefacts¡¯ will contain parts made with it. A miracle material if you will, but not the only one. Of the forms ¡®Earth¡¯ or solids can take, your world knows very few.¡±

    ¡°A ¡®miracle material¡¯ you say. How does that differ from a magical one?¡±

    ¡°A figure of speech.¡± Jon smiled. ¡°Continue, apprentice.¡±

    She sent her weak aura into the hollowed horn. ¡°My limited magic sense confirms the esoteric nature of this Earth.¡±

    ¡°Using magic diagnostically?! Very cool.¡±

    Keya continued. ¡°Inside, I divine mostly thin folds of cloth and string of some kind. There also appears to be something odd at the bottom within the pointed tip.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s amazing, Kay, colour me impressed! I don¡¯t have the friggin X-Ray sense you do, but having assembled and repaired tons these things I can confirm it.¡±

    ¡°Your praise is unearned Master; my Earth sense is meagre as previously stated. I can barely encompass the entirety of this item. I am also none the wiser as to its function.¡±

    ¡°Well, stick it in the ground and see! Embed it all the way in, flush with the surface,¡± said Jon.

    Finding another spot on the ground, she glanced up to confirm.

    ¡°There will work, make it as vertical as possible,¡± then added, ¡°for your sake.¡±

    She punched the foot long black stake into the damp soil, checked orientation and stepped back.

    ¡°Evy, deploy the rift.¡± A hiss abruptly bellowed from the horn. ¡°That odd thing you sensed inside the bottom pointy end is an air valve, a Rift air value. The air is basically being pumped across universes. The thing emerging is a slim tyre tube: a sack in the shape of a hoop. Instead of it being a water sack, it holds air. The tube is ejected and erected as it inflates, as you can see.¡±

    The fabric spewed out the top and continued to unfurl. It took about 30 counts to expand fully. Keya scrutinised it, slack-jawed and enraptured. Was there anything to which it could compare? ¡°It¡­ grows, like a plant.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Scraping the bottom of the barrel with metaphors, I see,¡± Jon commented. ¡°Technically, the last part was a simile, but still.¡±

    A vertical, six-foot ring rose from the ground, ever stiffer as the hiss, now softer, continued. Mottled earthen colours covered most of its surface save for a thin metallic ring on the inner arc. Inspecting the glinting strip, it was, in fact, finely braided silver threads that produced a supple cord. Was it metal or fabric? She could not tell, and she dared not touch it. The cord was half-sunken into the flesh of the expanded hoop. The rest of the dappled ring was clothed in a bizarrely decorative matte fabric. Fully formed, the artifice cast a long elliptical shadow off the last rays of sunlight as the smaller sister moons, Yil and Yen, took ascendancy.

    The hoop was unobstructed. Keya could step through if she wished; she verily did not wish to. Rather, she stood dumbly rigid like a babe seeing the world for the first time, which is precisely how she felt.

    Master Kel waited patiently, hands behind his back, not so uncaring as to rush before she regained composure. At long last, she turned to him.

    ¡°Now you might be thinking why go to all that effort? Why not just use the other ring from earlier?¡±

    Keya vigorously shook her head. Nought but the spectacle before her occupied her stupefied thoughts.

    ¡°No? Well, I¡¯m gonna tell ya anyway. Manual setup uses minimal equipment, is cheap, and disposable.¡± Listing them on his fingers. ¡°But what happens if I¡¯m not here to set it up because I¡¯m on the other end? Remote deployment and redeployment has several benefits that will become apparent in time.¡±

    His convoluted scheming made little sense to her, but the absorbed commentary did accommodate her mental fugue. ¡°Why the haphazard colours?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s camouflage. Even inflated, it would be hard to spot this far off with the surrounding plant life. Deflation and inflation can be controlled remotely.¡±

    For the explanation of control, ¡®by magic¡¯ would have to suffice. Albeit, upon re-examination of the colours, she fathomed his rationale. It would surely be trying to espy this hoop from further off, even for her eyes.

    ¡°How will we find it then?¡±

    His lips spread with a disarming smile: a look Grandpa had often given as he tutored her. What do you see in me inscrutable human? ¡°A discussion for another time. Evy, connect to the rift room.¡±

    And before her eyes, the interior soundlessly blinked to elsewhere. Light beamed out from a room beyond. She stalked to the other side of the ring and saw another hole in the air.

    The walls inside were all stony grey and perfectly flat. That artisans would spend so much time on smoothing walls alone was untenable.

    ¡°You can go through either side; it leads to the same room but on opposite event horizons.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I can¡­¡± said Keya. Her feet wanted to go backwards rather than forward.

    ¡°Take my hand; I will lead.¡± He raised an arm toward her. ¡°The first leap can be nerve-wracking for some. Come this side; we¡¯ll go together.¡±

    First assuring that Gavin''s shortsword was belted to her waist, she reluctantly approached him and grabbed hold. Keya was no trained warrior, but she knew where the sharp end went, and Grandpa had drilled some rudimentary swordplay into her over the years.

    Master Kelly moved forward with her in tow and gradually traversed the hoop, pulling her along. She squeezed his hand desperately despite herself.

    A heartbeat later, they were on the other side, and the rear circle showing the forest blinked away. On the other... end? the ring was a far more robust and glided affair: a permanent fixture supported atop a greystone ramp. It was centred in a square room of the same demure colour, with an outlandish door at one end, and long dazzling illuminating poles on the roof. They were not roof slats as she had assumed from brief glances at his magical larder. No, these were bars affixed to the ceiling suffused with a heatless glow as bright a the sun.

    Awe and curiosity overwhelmed her as she caught sight of the wry smile on Jon¡¯s face.

    ¡°Welcome to the Bunker; you can let go of my hand now.¡± Realising, she detached herself swiftly.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± Her voiced hushed in wonder.

    ¡°We¡¯re deep underground, about 300 metres down. But more importantly, we are not in your world anymore. Follow me.¡±

    He cranked a silver metal wheel on the door at the one end of the room. A series of levers and pins released and the door pulled outwards creaking a little on sturdy hinges. Beyond was a series of rooms and areas one more opulent than the next.

    Master Kelly mentioned them each casually as they briefly moved through; she barely listened.

    ¡°¡­it¡¯s one circular floor; this curved corridor runs a circuit right around. If you get lost just stick to it until you come back around¡­¡±

    Pristine halls spanned the abode. All the walls were uniform and illuminated. Profusely colourful art was plastered and hung casually, often carelessly and haphazardly ajar, even on the ceiling. The thin gleaming canvases were rectangular or contoured to the intricate and vibrant paintings they portrayed. Most of it was unframed and glued to the walls, like mere vandalism. A few were directly painted on the paper-smooth stone. ¡®Painted¡¯ was a dubious description for she saw no brush marks, anywhere. Perhaps the workmanship was so fine such that the painter''s hand was invisible. Here and there more familiar framed art was also displayed. But, much to her chagrin, they too depicted scenes more bizarre and fantastical than the next. Beasts and vistas beyond her wildest fancies, or darkest nightmares. Men and women, mostly human, clothed in outlandish garb engaged, or sat, in scenes of which she could not make head or tail.

    Jonathan Kelly strode past all of it with paltry disregard, and yet every image was a masterful art piece. She imagined a noble might dally on this depiction or that, boasting of its beauty and significance, in so doing demonstrate his learned wealth. Master Kelly did not even slow; it was nothing to him.

    Scintillating and eclectic trinkets of all shapes and sizes were bestrewn haphazardly, as if garbage on every surface. As they moved further in, the walls became less cluttered, with the majesty of the rooms themselves seizing her attention.

    One room was only walled shelves full of books up to the cornice; the rainbow of colours from their spines alone would make a dye merchant faint. The kitchen was twice the size of her cabin, and gleaming mosaic counters and cupboards reflected the dazzling light on every surface.

    Strange artefacts big and small were everywhere, one more bizarre than the next. And glass was everywhere: smooth flat panes so flawless, not even the tiniest of gemstones were so immaculate. Room upon room was novel and opulent in yet another preposterous way. Keya could comprehend maybe a tenth of what she saw. Even so, kings and emperors would wage war for the treasures stowed here.

    It is too much; I cannot¡­ Feet faltered drawing her to a stop. With hand reaching for the wall, she steadied herself as a bout of dizziness broke upon her.

    ¡°Oi, you okay there?¡± Master¡¯s voice echoed, as if from afar.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t give that pill for nothing, you know.¡±

    That was right! The warding ¡®red pill¡¯, how could she forget. So this had been why! Fathoming an affliction worse than hers currently, was unconcionable. Just as quickly as the dizziness waxed, it waned, and her bearings returned. Mostly.

    ¡°What dynasty do you hail from to have such wealth?¡± She peered up. ¡°Is all this yours alone?¡±

    ¡°Dynasty?! Nah, juffrou I¡¯m just a boy from Jozi. Aint no royal blood in these veins. But ja, I¡¯ve done pretty well for myself over the last few years. I¡¯ve managed to prospect the Witwatersrand gold vein a few times. The commission was pretty good. Plus a few other income streams. Kimberly was fair game too, but diamonds ain''t what they used to be.

    ¡°I don¡¯t own absolutely everything here, but the Bunker is mine. Let¡¯s leave finances for later, or perhaps never. Are you ready to move again?¡±

    ¡°I think so.¡± Her feet resumed their gallant shuffle, feeling moderately recovered.

    ¡°Good, there¡¯s plenty to do. We¡¯ll start with induction in the VR and Training room. VR means Virtual Reality FYI; It¡¯s often dubbed the Dream Room by newcomers.¡±

 3.2 Induction

    Keya Ces trailed distractedly behind her oblivious tour guide. Her neck carped from the strain as she swivelled about, committed to beholding every perplexing wonder in view. She failed dismally. Following Jonathan out the ¡®kitchen¡¯, they traced the circular passage once more before turning right into a chamber on the outer rim of the subterrane manor. For this was a manor, and he a king or lord of some sort.

    The large, vacant, and almost wholly unadorned chamber, was a welcome respite. She would rather not bear further strain on her mind, senses, and neck. Instead, the floor, walls, and ceiling were painted a mockingly bright green: fair trade, in her opinion.

    Six square equidistant mats made of long continuous strips were arrayed about the chamber. The peculiar rugs recessed into the floor, flush with the surrounding green surface. Testing a mat, it gave slightly underfoot before she stepped back again. <em style="letter-spacing: 0">I should forego all descriptions of ¡®strange¡¯ in this place, may as well be pronouncing water as ¡®wet¡¯ in the sea.

    ¡°Those? The omnidirectional treadmills will be off for this program. Here,¡±

    He dislodged a set of bulky eye masks with straps from a station near the entrance.

    ¡°These are VR Goggles; you won¡¯t see or hear anything initially, I¡¯m gonna put them on for you, okay? You can remove them any time.¡±

    She acquiesced with a nod, and Jon carefully fitted the thing atop her head, struggling a bit with her long ears.

    ¡°Ouch!¡±

    ¡°Sorry! Elf ears weren''t anticipated in the design.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Someone as wealthy and apprised as him admitting ignorance was an auspice. Grandpa always said, ¡®The wise know what they do not know, admitting it freely.¡¯

    ¡°You¡¯re the first elf ever to use one.¡± The first¡­ then I am his first Elven apprentice?

    Bands were adjusted until it sat comfortably hoisted upon her crown. It was surprisingly light, and luxurious fabric moulded to her skull and cheeks. The comfort was akin to silken sheets she once felt at a trader¡¯s stall.

    Even tensioned, the straps flexed and stretched to accommodate motion around her head and neck. With sight and hearing obscured, this world still baffled her. She marginally pulled the mask away quickly met by the luminous green glow of the room. Assured, she relented in darkness.

    ¡°Alright, can you hear me? Testing, Testing, 1,2,3¡­¡±

    ¡°What are you testing?¡± She pivoted toward the sound.

    Master Kel chuckled. ¡°Not to worry, you passed. Okaaay, so you''ll see a light appear near me.¡±

    No sooner had he spoken, and despite everything being dark, Master Kelly emerged near a bright blue marbled orb. He wore the same mask as her, covering ears and eyes, and yet they beheld and heard one another unhindered.

    Her hands and body were implausibly visible through the mask. The rest of the room, on the other hand, was banished. Instead, an interminable grey vista spread unbroken before her while dim light shone down from nowhere and yet everywhere. Lifting the headdress gave way to the room once more. I see into another realm! Returning, she inspected her spectral body: unchanged save for an aberrant outline where it met this other plane.

    ¡°This is magic without a doubt. There is no way in the damned heavens you can convince me otherwise.¡±

    ¡°What it is, is not as crucial as what it can show you. Multimedia is essential to speed your education. Tons of teaching and training will be necessary both here and world-side. I suspect computer literacy is not an extant skill in your world and won¡¯t be for some time, so we''ve got this.¡±

    ¡°We are safe, no? The apparitions of this realm cannot harm or bewitch us, can they?¡±

    ¡°Safe as houses, just a bit of noise and light is all.¡±

    The spirit realm perhaps? Receiving tuition from beyond the grave was far fetched, even after all she had witnessed. Grandpa! The hope crept unbidden to from her heart; could she say ¡®goodbye?¡¯

    ¡°I¡­ I wish you to summon my Grandfather, if possible.¡±

    He opened his mouth to respond.

    ¡°-A moment is all I would need!¡± Keya knew it was too much too soon. Already, there was ample she must repay. But this was a further debt she would gladly shoulder, however steep.

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± Master Kelly lowered is head and tone. ¡°I see. Your misconception is not uncommon; I¡¯m sorry I failed to anticipate it.¡±

    There it was; just as possibility warmed her, so too did despair precipitously freeze the blood within her chest.

    ¡°Dashing your hopes was not the ride I intended to give. This,¡± he spread arms, ¡°is a place of memory and dreams, not a way to peer into the afterlife. I could make something look similar to your Grandfather. Could be indiscernible if I had more data, which I don¡¯t. Still, it wouldn¡¯t be him. Just a doll you could pretend with.¡± He removed the mask, as did she, meeting her with an equanimous gaze, ¡°As your recruiter and trainer, I suggest this is ill-advised. Your mind and memories are the only true means of consolation. No amount of magic will ever change that, and I would not wish to pervert your recollections with some crap facsimile.¡±

    All she could do was vigorously nod in return. After which, silence stretched for far longer than any lord should entertain a guest. In between, there may have been some brief sobs and tearful eyes. Such things were quickly wiped clean with lavish paper handkerchiefs. A final cathartic sigh left her mostly composed. ¡°Forgive me my weakness, Master Kelly. I have squandered much of your generous patience with my selfishness.¡±

    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s cool. You wanna continue, or take a break?¡±

    ¡°You are too kind.¡± She sniffed. Even such a pleasantry, however perfunctory, was far too charitable. ¡°Please, anything to divert my thoughts is a welcome reprieve.¡±

    ¡°Alright, if you¡¯re sure¡­¡± Waving her to the room¡¯s centre, they adorned the Headdresses of Dreams and Memory and peered once more into the Grey Realm. ¡°Anyway, this is the best us Gamma Worlders can offer as far as intuitive interfaces go. I¡¯ll acquaint you with the haptics later. For now, have a look at this.¡±

    Moving toward the glowing orb, she noticed white swirls shifting gradually on top of blues, browns, and greens. Its significance became immediately apparent. ¡°This is some kind of moving map is it not? Why is it round?¡± Tiny landmasses floated below wispy clouds.

    ¡°This is my homeworld Gamma C-037-072.¡±

    ¡°That is a very odd name.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the designation; almost everyone calls their origin world Earth. It can get confusing. To answer your second question; this a model, not a map, scaled-down obviously, but entirely accurate. It¡¯s round because all worlds, or ¡®planets¡¯ as we call them, are.¡±

    As he spoke, two more almost identical orbs materialised stacked beneath the first. Cloud cover differed, but the landmasses traced similar shores.

    ¡°This is the next level down,¡± The central orb was a world with far more browns than his. ¡°the Delta worlds, and deeper still,¡± He pointed to the bottom globe, perhaps a tinge more verdant than his. ¡°are Epsilon worlds like yours. Bear in mind, what I¡¯m showing is abstract. We are not literally floating above your world.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Seers and soothsayers maintain our world is flat. Albeit, I grant round worlds like the moons appear more elegant, explaining why things do not fall off is considered an intractable problem.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the same laws that govern those moons of yours govern your world too. And that¡¯s an axiomatic principle to remember. Homogeneity applies to all universes, though not necessarily between universes. In any event, your world is definitely round, I already have enough network stations in place to extrapolate curvature. Hell, your world is either very similar or an outright twin of most Earths.¡±

    ¡°If Master says as much, then I will not question it.¡±

    ¡°Nah-uh. Rule 2: Question everything. Don¡¯t bank on my say-so, in fact never just accept on anyone¡¯s say-so. Always question. ¡®Nullius in verba.¡¯ Always ask for evidence. Until then remain unconvinced either way.¡±

    ¡°Very well, do you have evidence?¡±

    ¡°Sadly, nothing that will be compelling enough for you. Numbers on pages would be a meaningless overture, I expect. Anywho, in the next few days, I can offer some visual confirmation.¡±

    ¡°So I am unconvinced then, by your own rationale?¡± She raised an eyebrow, a fruitless gesture under the mask, but her tone carried intent.

    ¡°That you are!¡± His head bobbed agreeably. ¡°So, to get back to my exposition. Imagine your world as one of many, connected via a series of branches and offshoots. Visualise a root system like that of a tree.¡±

    With a wave of hands, the orbs multiplied, expanding to fill the void above, beyond, and all around them.

    Keya gasped at the sudden change as these worlds inundated her sight. There were thousands! With childlike glee, she spun amongst the glowing balls like the fruit of a divine tree sprouting from above. The orbs finally dimmed to lucid spectres; Master Kelly made no comment, but his twitching lips spoke volumes.

    ¡°At the top is Alpha.¡± He pointed, and a single world glowed bright red at the apex. This dream realm had no ceiling. In contrast to the green room, infinite grey ether spread upwards beyond all bounds.

    ¡°They¡­ are a story for another time. Suffice to say, the power to connect new worlds, like yours, is up to them. A few months ago they did just that, and here we are, just me for the moment though. There¡¯s a lot of red tape and paperwork required to petition Alpha, people with funny clothes talking across long tables, boring stuff, trust me. Next, are the Beta worlds,¡±

    A wider swath just below was lit in green.

    ¡±Mostly part of the primary root system.¡± A smaller selection of these green worlds and some worlds below illuminated; they clustered in the centre. ¡°Fertile, resource-rich planets with natural laws identical to, or compatible with, Alpha. Excellent candidates for Alpha migration, expansion, and growth; pleasing for them and marvellous for the natives.

    ¡°To become a main root candidate is a boon to all involved. Absurd amounts of riches and technology is shared. Society is uplifted beyond your wildest dreams. We are not in the Main Root. We are here. Our parent Beta world, ain¡¯t even on the map.¡±

    The initial three measly worlds were lit in blue with her supposed world right at the bottom edge of the massive cluster. The ¡®Delta¡¯ realm was further in the mesh of roots, while Master¡¯s realm of ¡®Gama¡¯ circled quite close to the green primary worlds. The world above, as he inferred, was unlit.

    ¡°My realm is quite distant,¡± Keya said.

    ¡°Deep would be a better analogue. There are only four degrees of separation from Alpha to your Epsilon world.¡±

    White lines highlighted the connections.

    ¡°Each level has been burrowed into from the world above. And while one world could feasibly burrow into an infinite number of offspring worlds, there is but one parent. Or so we¡¯re told.¡±

    Examining the other globes, she confirmed that they only ever branched down and not up. ¡°I believe I catch your meaning; this resembles a family tree but with only one parent.¡±

    ¡°Very nice! Not many folks notice that initially. The organisation is indeed taxonomic, with traits from parent worlds passed down.¡±

    Keya nodded at the praise.

    ¡°Now for the bad news, or the not so good news. What stays the same is, of course, not as vital as what changes. Life in the universe is a fine balance and minor alterations, even in history, can have major impacts down the line. It is said that a flap of a butterfly¡¯s wings," Jon flapped arms ''majestically'', "can cause a hurricane on the other side of the world!¡±

    ¡°What is a hurricane?¡±

    ¡°Ah, it¡¯s a huge storm, with strong winds and often flooding.¡±

    ¡°I see. That a butterfly could manage such a feat seems rather absurd.¡±

    ¡°Aaaaand, I¡¯ve I lost you again. Anyway, Beta worlds often have these differences, but the deeper you dive, the greater and more varied those disparities become.¡±

    The worlds about them vanished, and a series of paintings appeared floating in space. Except, they were flawless paintings, indistinguishable from vision. Not even the art in Jon¡¯s abode compared to the vivid colours and light of these.

    ¡°Examples such as bungled or successful assassinations.¡±

    She saw a white-robed man surrounded by others with knives, their garb very similar to the venerable Reka Elves near the Southern sea.

    ¡°Or new sentient races and an extra set of laws, like friggin magic. Case in point, your world Epsilon H-037-072-030-010.¡±

    An image of some dwarves, elves and humans in a village market floated to the fore.

    ¡°There are no elder races in your world?¡± Such an idea was untenable to her. Next, Master Kel would say there were no wyverns!

    ¡°Just humans, only ever humans up to this point. Although there are some whispers on the Multinet of rather interesting things popping up in other Delta and Epsilon worlds, I remained unconvinced until this assignment.¡± Though the mask was obscuring his eyes¡ªsomething increasingly frustrating¡ªshe caught the brief smirk.

    ¡°A moment please, where does all that nonsense about my world being a story feature? You purport these realms are varied purely by chance.¡±

    ¡°Oh right¡­ forgot to explain that, must¡¯ve skipped ahead on my notes.¡± Jon scanned unused space, likely filled with things only he was privy to. ¡±There we go. Do you understand Venn diagrams? No, wait, stupid fucking question. Let me just explain.¡±

    He cleared the images with a swipe up and drew a bright blue ring out of light, hanging like everything else before, in empty space.

    ¡°This circle represents all the possible universes, or worlds, that one parent universe might sire. Outside are the impossible or unstable universes, again it¡¯s an abstract depiction. Now,¡± He drew another circle partially overlapping the first in red. ¡°These are all the fictional worlds people create in the parent universe. They are mostly set in the past or present, which quickly becomes the past. As you can see, most stories lie outside the blue circle and are impossible. As an aside, stories of the future tend to miss the mark a lot and are almost always impossible. But a certain segment¡­¡± The overlain area of the two circles turned a purple glow. ¡°Is both possible and imagined by someone in the parent world. For some reason, the preponderance of universes we delve into, occupy this intersection: possible, in the past, and uncannily similar to a parent world narrative.

    ¡°There are likely more factors and the ¡®why¡¯ of it is contentious. The Alphas probably know more, but their lips are sealed. The long and short? In a genuine sense, the stories we tell each other bring those worlds closer to us.¡±

    ¡°You mean to tell me even fanciful childhood tales exist in a realm somewhere? That¡¯s preposterous!¡±

    ¡°You do realise you are yourself a fairytale elf, asking me that question? Now you know exactly how I fucken feel.¡±

    Even proposing that she was some puppeteered character in a book felt insulting.

    ¡°I know that face, don¡¯t dwell on the existential implications. Down that way be demons, and unnecessary ones at that. Though these tales may find or lay the pieces on the game board, the paths laid out rarely go as planned. Yours, once again, a case in point. You are you, Kay, so don¡¯t go flipping out on me. I need you. Your world needs you.¡±

    Again she wished she could see his eyes, so she pulled the mask from her face and was greeted by sickeningly jovial green. After a short squint, her eyes adjusted.

    Master Kelly responded in kind, and she stood there for long moments evaluating the man, he surveyed the room casually, occasionally making eye contact and shifting from side to side. He opened his mouth to quip but-

    ¡°Not a word, Master! I am thinking! That tongue of yours is almost as bad as your addled mind.¡±

    He conceded and simply smiled with mischievous, knowing eyes. There was much to ponder, too much in fact. Am I in any immediate danger in this strange place?

    Actions did not lie, though they could be misunderstood. She would work off that for the time being. He had fought for her, stood for her, gave her sustenance, and even clothing. In prior moments of distraught, there had been ample chance for him to take advantage or simply do nothing.

    ¡°Very well Master Kel, I will take your wild imaginings as face value, for now. If nothing else you are a considerably wealthy noble with great magicks at his disposal and your actions show no ill harm thus far. The rest I must take time to think on.¡± Regardless, she would sleep with Gavin¡¯s blade tonight.

    ¡°Awesome, that¡¯s good enough for me.¡± He strolled over and docked his mask, turning back to her ¡°Right let¡¯s get your ass to medical, and we can wrap up for the night.¡±

    ¡°I have no such beast of burden in my care as you well know, what do you speak of?¡±

    ¡°This is gonna be our thing, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°I have most certainly lost your meaning now, Master.¡±

    ¡°That you have. That you have.¡±

 3.3 Morning Sunshine

    Keya lay awake, staring up at the immaculately flat and featureless grey stone ceiling of what was now apparently ¡®her room¡¯. The bed was far too comfortable, the pillow far too soft and the linens far too clean, and smelling faintly of lavender.

    The temperature was also perfect; slitted holes in the ceiling blew a soft breeze that circulated the room with fresh air. A trinket attached to the wall could shift the wind from warm hearth to icy chill. The functions had been explained, but its workings remained baffling. She opted to leave it be after Master summoned the zephyr.

    Jon had a number of these extra rooms simply ''available'', five by her count, along the same connecting curved corridor. Jon¡¯s room lay at the end. With hers two doors down, opposite the kitchen. Master insisted she choose which quarters she wanted! As if he were offering a chair to sit on, rather than a royal suite. In any event, space all her own was a reprieve she savoured. Jon¡¯s room, by her estimation, was somewhat larger than hers. Not that she felt short-changed, her domicile was already so extravagant as to make her shameful to be using it.

    The ¡®On-sweet¡¯ bathhouse and outhouse were indulgences she had never even considered. Jon¡¯s response rung in the back of her mind, ¡°Yes, you shit, shower, and shave whenever you want. Welcome to the future!¡±

    It was morning, or at least an opaque square in the wall gave off that impression with soft light. Keya rubbed her arm where Jon had taken her blood the previous night. The ¡®Medy-Kal¡¯ ritual as he called, had been a far more harrowing experience than anything prior. She¡¯d rather face more direwolves than all those tools and artefacts around her and on her skin. She hoped never to see that hellish white room again, and she made such demands quite clear.

    Master Kel countered with dinner: warm freshly cooked ¡®Peat-za¡¯, after which the negotiations stalled. Unleavened bread spread with a blood-red vegetable paste, succulent melted cheese, and spices. She knew of no vegetable like it. ¡®T''maa-toes¡¯ they were called. Jonathan retrieved one for appraisal from his magically cold closet. Voluptuous vegetables and fruits stocked his cookery; produce to make all farmers quail with impotence at their measly crop.

    What wonders I have witnessed. Pinching her cheek, she arose.

    Momentarily washed and dressed, she emerged from her door and slunk toward the kitchen following the growing sound. It was music. Melodic notes and a rapid beat wove beneath a female voice so profoundly beautiful she would make High Elf minstrels and bards jealous. The instruments were multitude and none she could identify.

    Smells of breakfast hit her nostrils, and she slapped herself to regain composure before turning the corner.

    ¡°Morning sunshine! Bacon, eggs, broccoli and rice, the breakfast of champions. Yours is done over there on the counter. Sit down and dig in.¡± The music suddenly became softer. She found her seat and beheld the feast.

    ¡°Do you eat so many foods at each meal? I imagined last eve¡¯s supper to be a welcome feast.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s normal, and you¡¯re malnourished. Eat.¡±

    ¡°I cannot pay for this.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re my responsibility. That includes your health. Your livelihood is well worth any expense. I bear it freely; you owe me nothing. Eat.¡± Reluctantly at first, she relished the meal.

    ¡°Where is the minstrel band?¡± Speaking after a few delectable mouthfuls. She surveyed the kitchen and attached living area seeing no one else. The sounds unmistakeably came from thereabouts.

    ¡°It¡¯s recorded music, those black boxes you see in the living room are producing the sound. It¡¯s just us here. Quarantine procedures are still in full effect; you won¡¯t be seeing others of my kind for a while still.¡±

    ¡°Music without people, your miracles never cease.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sorry my tastes aren¡¯t great this is just a playlist the AI compiled, run of the mill electronic stuff. I¡¯ll get Evy to set up your profile. Account access will be to your room terminal. Then you can chill to your own beats.¡±

    ¡°I understood almost nothing of what you just said.¡±

    ¡°Looks like you¡¯re gonna need your coffee.¡± He poured a steaming cup for her from a ready-made kettle, or at least it looked like a kettle. It could start flying about the room for all she knew. And worse still she might not even be surprised.

    She took the brew in hand and tentatively sipped. It was bitter, like Grandpa¡¯s hot leaf drink, but not disagreeable. She brought a few seeds she wished to plant when she found the opportunity. Jon observed her reaction as she drank.

    ¡°And we have a winner! Not everyone likes the stuff, but trust me, it¡¯s one of the world¡¯s best drugs.¡±

    He sat down across from her, clattering his meal on the counter. They ate; music and the ritual of sustenance suffused her senses. To feast so well and so comfortably was alien to her. Where were her morning chores? Master had not even bothered to rouse her. And why was he making all the food and drink? Granted, she did not know the first thing about how his hearth worked. Nonetheless, she felt irrationally cheated out of honest work. The fault was entirely hers, to expect any kind of normality from this man was folly from the outset.

    ¡°Alright, your test results from medical are back. The living room screen would be best,¡± He took another bite and swallowed, ¡°but we¡¯re already here.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    He pulled forth a black glass panel from above the counter. A single metal arm hoisted it as he effortlessly swung the rectangle in view. From the polished black board came illumination with a blink. Images, along with words skittered about its surface according to some esoteric covenant. Varied rectangles materialised and shifted in the foreground, while the background was a pristine forest scene. As with all paintings before, it was flawless and indistinguishable to the eye save for being far too idyllic. I should very much like to visit so serene a vista.

    ¡°And what is this ensorceled painting?¡± Similar panels were in the torturous ¡®Medy-Kal¡¯ room, but they were nowhere near as colourful, and she was otherwise occupied, avoiding needles and the like. Come to think of it, such black glass artefacts were all about the manor, even in her room.

    ¡°It¡¯s a screen, a touch screen. I had the whole bunker recently upgraded. Us early 21st century Gamma guys don¡¯t have free roam of the nice stuff from the Beta or Alpha worlds. That said, getting those Romans to use a mouse and keyboard was a pain in my ass.¡± Jon shuddered, ¡°Never again!¡±

    Recovered from his reverie and continued, ¡°Your results:¡±

    With a few dextrous taps on the glass, the painting vanished below a white canvas with writing and many lined boxes. What a shame, I liked that scene. In one corner of the plain sheet was a tiny coloured portrait: Keya¡¯s portrait. A fearfully wide-eyed depiction stared back at her; she utterly understood its shock.

    ¡°Congratulations, near as we can tell you¡¯re a mostly healthy elf. Of course, you are also the only elf we¡¯ve ever tested.¡±

    ¡°When did you have time to paint me? Astounding work, though rather small. A recent gawk at her visage in the polished metal of the bathing room affirmed the likeness.

    ¡°Ja-nee, Kay, just like we can record music, we can capture images. Both moving and still. I¡¯m rather proud of this mug shot. No one ever looks good in their ID photos, and the tradition continues.

    ¡°Is there anything you and your ilk cannot do? I¡¯m beginning to think we should start with the impossible and work backwards.¡±

    ¡°Hey! Not a bad suggestion. Consult Lee in your free time on that. Anyway, forget your photo. Let''s check results.¡±

    Much deliberation in flawless ink-black script littered the rest of the ¡®Skreen¡¯.

    Master Kel asked, ¡°Can you read this stuff?¡±

    ¡°I see numbers and Common script, both of which are familiar. However, I do not grasp their arrangement or meaning. The word ''blood'' is over there,¡± she pointed.

    ¡°Let¡¯s start with bloodwork then. More specifically, your DNA ancestry. Extremely close to us. Human precursors without a doubt. Mutations here and there, but the labs conclude human-elf offspring is quite viable. You¡¯re hardly speciated.¡±

    ¡°Yes, half-elves are possible to sire, though often shunned. As for the former claim, many Fair Folk would find your allusion to Mortal progenitors unconscionable. Of the Elder Races, Elves are considered the purest of bloodlines. Their beauty, longevity, and grace attest to it. High Elves would most certainly rebuke such a notion. Humans are the impure bloodline, tainted descendants of Elders, the converse of your claim.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just reading the numbers. Believe what you want.¡± Master threw up hands in placation.

    ¡°That said, the cultural heritage of Wood Elves, my kin, is not so disdainful as the High Elves. All springs forth and returns to nature. For the interim, might I remain dubious of your proposition?¡±

    Her intransigence was dismissed with an off-hand shrug. He graciously affords dissent: a propitious quality for a lord. ¡°Sure. How long do you guys live, anyway?¡±

    ¡°A thousand years is not uncommon.¡± Jon almost choked on his food as she replied.

    ¡°Mother fucker, a thousand fucking years!¡±

    ¡°Refrain from your crass comments about my mother this instant!¡±

    ¡°Wha? Oh, sorry, it¡¯s an expression of shock. I¡¯m not in any way referring to your parents or family.¡± Pounding his chest to clear his throat.

    Keya was stern. ¡°Very well, but for a noble, I must say your language runs a wide gamut at times.¡±

    ¡°A thousand fucking years! How many days in a year?¡±

    ¡°Three hundred and sixty-five.¡±

    ¡°Hours in a day?¡±

    ¡°Twelve.¡±

    Jonathan squinted, ¡°Is that only daylight?¡±

    ¡°One can hardly gauge night with a sundial, now can they?¡±

    ¡°I suppose your hours don¡¯t vary by season either.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, though we know the light is lesser, winter elements are harsher, and crops do not grow. Shelter and warmth take precedence, as the Gods intended.¡±

    ¡°Pre-Gallilean time, huh? Still, a thousand fucking years!¡±

    ¡°Yes, you have said this three times now. I suppose I understand your shock coming from a realm of only humans. Your life span of barely forty years is rather pitiful by comparison.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we can push that to a hundred with modern medicine, but a thousand is something special. Maybe par for the course for Alphas and Betas but¡­ my girl you just put us on the map!¡±

    ¡°Is that a request for courtship?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­no?¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± An uncomfortable moment passed.

    ¡°Ja, tsuzukimashou! Let¡¯s continue with stuff you probably already know. Your eyes are superhuman, it¡¯s like someone stuck eagle eyes in your skull, and your hearing is certainly better than humans¡¯, but my dog back home had you beat. Pochi however, was an idiot, so having a better brain attached to those ears probably makes you win out.¡±

    ¡°Are you honestly comparing me to your dog?¡±

    ¡°Aaaand, your bones are indeed porous. Plus streamlined body composition puts you at thirty-five kgs. No wonder I still have ribs. No doubt you¡¯re a spry young thing when you aren¡¯t falling out of trees.¡±

    ¡°I will have you know that though I am only twenty-five years of age I am no less skilled with a bow as other elves. Please bear that in mind next time you compare me to your dog.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re only twenty-five!¡± He clapped as part of a non-existent audience. ¡°Oh, this is precious! You may well be the first elf in all of fiction that isn¡¯t a cradle snatcher!¡±

    ¡°Truly, your stories fall far from the mark; Elves would never do such a horrid thing as stealing babes.¡±

    Master laughed; it was a proper bellowing laugh and took a long while for him to find composure once more. Spontaneous chuckles of mirth continued well past the end of the meal.

    Keya did her best to ignore the fool and enjoy the repast. Men will be men; she realised, regardless from whence they hail.

 3.4 Plans of Elves and Men

    A thousand fucking years! Knowing that little tidbit, R&D would sift through Keya¡¯s genes with a fine-tooth comb. Lee blew up chat the moment Kay dropped the bomb. Fuck the rest, 30-10 DNA samples were a treasure trove. Sampling that Direwolf was next on his to-do. Damn, he¡¯d have to put it in cyro; there goes my first New World steak.

    Fuck it; this could leapfrog them a hundred years or more in genomics. Securing this magical mad land could elevate his entire branch to Main Root status. There were, unfortunately, a shit-load of ¡®ifs¡¯ and ¡®maybes¡¯.

    First and foremost was clearing quarantine and avoiding root condemnation. Stabilising Epsilon 30-10 took priority one. We gotta orient and mobilise; I hope she''s up to it.

    He sat across from Kay in a living room armchair. The embedded coffee table screen was up showing a very spotty map of the surrounding landscape. ¡°Alright Ms Ces, our first order of business is intel and an FOB.¡±

    Keya made to interrupt.

    ¡°Yes, you don¡¯t know what that means. You''re my ¡®woman¡¯ on the ground as it were; what we in the biz call a fixer. You know the lay of the land, its people, customs, cultures, and dangers. At the very least better than I do. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve spent enough time with me to know I¡¯m a blabbering goof.¡±

    ¡°Not precisely the words I¡¯d have chosen. Though I grasp your meaning: you most certainly do not and would not fit in, anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Domo arigato gozaimashita! So, you¡¯re lead in most of our engagements and interactions. Do you understand what that means?

    She shook her head.

    ¡°When you say ¡®shut-up¡¯, I shut-up.¡±

    ¡°Does that apply now?¡±

    ¡°And when you say ¡®kill¡¯¡­ I will most likely bring to bear lethal force.¡±

    ¡°I thought not.¡±

    ¡°Discretion is largely yours to regulate; I have no point of reference for the range of shit to Shinola of your world. You¡¯re the compass. Capiche?¡±

    Kay nervously shifted on the sofa recognising the burden he was giving her, a good sign. ¡°I do not think I am sufficiently knowledgeable or wise to bear such a hefty responsibility. You must understand, Master, whatever lofty potential you believe I have; I am still but a mere village girl. My decisions may be no better than yours, in fact, almost certainly worse.¡± She continued. ¡°You have displayed insights to knowledge at times that I could never hope to achieve. Surely you see I am no leader.¡±

    ¡°Let me put it this way, I know what you don¡¯t know, and I know you don¡¯t know it. However, I don¡¯t know what I don¡¯t know, and that is especially true for your world. I need a guide.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s uncannily similar to what Gran-. Well, a guide sounds like a far simpler assignment.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the same bloody thing! You point, I shoot!¡±

    ¡°You have a bow? The goblins smashed mine.¡± The elf wrung her fingers.

    ¡°Not as such. That aside, can you do it?¡±

    ¡°I-¡± She looked past a curl of her blond frizzed hair falling loose, pulling it back. ¡°I understand Master. I will try as you ask, though I fear woeful inadequacy.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    ¡°Ii desu yo, trying is a start. And no more of this ¡®Master¡¯ stuff, it¡¯s giving me weird vibes. Call me, Kel, please. If for no other reason than it''ill blow our cover world-side. You need to appear my superior, and I, your aide.¡±

    ¡°Why on earth would subterfuge be necessary?¡±

    ¡°Oh, we have big plans. Don¡¯t you worry.¡±

    ¡°For some reason that worries me further.¡±

    He gave the briefest of smiles on an otherwise deadpan face. ¡°Next, check this map on the table. Coverage is still spotty, coz I was tailing Gavin, and the balloon network was secondary. I deployed them at night to avoid detection.

    ¡°As you can see, my balloon scouts found a few rivers and bodies of water. I¡¯m hoping you can assist.¡±

    ¡°Of course Mas¡­ I mean Kel-sun, though I doubt my cartographic knowledge could match the expert artisans you have at your disposal.¡±

    ¡°Believe it or not, your data points are essential,¡± he said slurping hot coffee. ¡°Evy has a map recognition algorithm running in the background, and I¡¯m gonna show you most likely matches. Sea-level and erosion diminishes reliability, but you can confirm it. Look at these outlines and tell me which best fits your world.¡±

    The program outputted white line overlays attempting to match the imagery. Maybe one per cent was mapped relative to the partial continental outlines. It began with images of Asia, then the Middle East, and so on with iterative orientations. Jon had been here very briefly, and intel was mere crumbs. He would have to speed that along since full-blown narrative decay had set in. No more worrying about butterflies at least.

    Kay leaned forward intently studying the lines.

    ¡°No, no, next, no, wait, go back, I recognise this land; it is called Reka.¡± She pointed to Italy. ¡°We are further north.¡±

    ¡°Very nice!¡± Another earth was par for the course, an outlier even at Epsilon depths was inconceivable. Then again, so was magic. ¡°Evy, stick to Europe.¡±

    ¡°There!¡±

    ¡°Evy, Stop.¡±

    ¡°This is Ravis my-, what was my home, correct?¡± She pointed to the red pin geo-locating the most recently deployed rift.

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°Then we follow the river North,¡± she traced, ¡°to the human city of Bovan. ''Tis the closest city to our village, about a week¡¯s ride by cart.¡± She pointed to a scanned town Gavin had passed through on his way to her village. Ravis was situated just south of the rift, and the city of Bovan, north. Both of them located on the Rhine in Western Europe.

    ¡°You¡¯re certain?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, my homeland is Elgelica across the channel.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a Bingo!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a Bingo?¡± Kay was expectedly quizzical.

    ¡°It¡¯s just bingo, actually.¡±

    ¡°What is Bingo?¡±

    ¡°You see, now you¡¯ve gone and spoiled the joke.¡±

    ¡°I am not laughing.¡± She wasn¡¯t; her turn for deadpanning had arrived.

    ¡°It means: ¡®it¡¯s a match¡¯. The joke was for Lee, not you. You owe me 10 grams Au, Lee!

    "I''m still beating you in Multiverse Bingo, bro." AR was offline in the Bunker, but comms still worked. Kay was unable to hear their banter.

    "Sore loser."

    "Kel-sun?"

    "Nothing. So, we¡¯re in Europe, Huh? Not surprising but useful. Evy, insert greyscale placeholder map. We¡¯ll update as we go.¡±

    ¡°So this is the world!¡± Kay was enraptured as the continent filled out. ¡°My, such an expanse!¡±

    ¡°This is not the world; this is the world.¡± And he pulled out with a pinch on the screen, their tiny area becoming a few coloured pixels on the coffee table. She covered her open mouth. Zooming to globe view, he spun it with a casual flick.

    ¡°It cannot be! I have heard of lands to the south and east, but this much!¡±

    ¡°Yep, this much. I¡¯ll try limit your mind blows to one a day, but I give no guarantees.¡± Jon rested his cheek on a fist.

    ¡°What are these lands to the west?¡±

    ¡°The Americas. Spoiler alert, you¡¯ve found less than half of your planet!¡±

    ¡°This knowledge... if true, would be priceless to any kingdom! You best not be jesting with me, Jonathan Kelly!¡±

    ¡°Often and repeatedly, but not now.¡± There were, of course, innumerable things she simply couldn¡¯t accept yet, it would take time. ¡°Remember never to take my word for gospel, Kay. Simply take it as provisional. If nothing else at least you know more of what I claim to believe.¡±

    Nursing her finished coffee cup, Kay rocked slightly.

    ¡°Your behaviour is confounding Kel-sun. First, you make claims of certitude and show me arcane wonders to boot. Then you implore me to exercise doubt. Which is right? Which is true?¡±

    ¡°Exactly! You decide. I give you tools and suggest ideas, but the picture is yours to paint.¡±

    Low volume music still played in the background as he watched her ruminate, those sharp eyebrows knitting together below her frown.

    ¡°For once, you appear to make sense Kel-sun.¡± She beamed affixing him with evergreen eyes.

    Watch where you aim those things girl, a smile like that is downright weaponised.

    ¡°Cool. On to business,¡± With a tap the map zoomed back in. ¡°Where is the closest open field, away from people? You¡¯re either gonna hate or love this!¡±

 3.5 The Ride

    Exiting the rift near Ravis, Jon deflated the ring as they traipsed away. Kay paused behind him, watching it go limp and flaccid on the leafy and moss-ridden forest floor.

    She said, ¡°It grows and wilts at will.¡±

    Jon declined to comment. If inflating and deflating tubes got her this excited he wondered what his next big toy would elicit. It used a lot more air; he¡¯d have to be careful.

    They hiked for most of the day, arriving at an unassuming field of wild grassland in the late afternoon. ¡°You¡¯re sure no people of at least human intelligence will stumble upon this place for a few hours?¡±

    ¡°The surrounding forest is considered cursed. Aside from beasts and lesser races, we should be left alone. You insist the direwolves were your handiwork. As such, either you are powerful enough to protect us, or I am stupid.¡±

    ¡°Your optimism is reassuring. Fuck.¡±

    ¡°What is wrong?¡±

    ¡°Nah, I just realised I hadn¡¯t cursed in a while. Needed to correct that.¡±

    ¡°Do you feel better now?¡± Her condescension was improving but needed a dash more sarcasm. They split to secure a perimeter.

    As they drew more than 50 metres apart, he spoke. ¡°Am I coming through on the headphones?¡± Kay was fitted with simple wearables. Vibrating drivers pressed up against the bone just ahead of the ear, conducting perturbations through to the hearing canal without obstructing other sounds.

    ¡°Remarkably, yes.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m activating your visor. It''ll show you where to place those two buoys. Augmented vision may be disorienting at first, but I need you to get used to this kinda stuff.¡±

    Jon paced out his own two buoys; they needed a wide area of about 100 metres square for deployment. The next few hours were crucial. If anyone¡ªor anything¡ªmanaged to damage his tech, well... think happy thoughts, dude. The power of positivity! Jon¡¯s interocular lenses fed him the HUD, so he needed no visor. All the same, he wore sunglasses in the strident afternoon rays. As for voice and audio, they too were very discreet implants.

    ¡°Oh my, the world has become a rainbow with nets everywhere. How by the gods can you see anything with this on!¡±

    Jon placed down the first buoy and paused to assist.

    ¡°Your eyes are much better than mine, could be the opacity is too low. Put your right hand to the side of the glasses. Do you feel two triangular buttons.¡±

    ¡°Buttons? Like clothing?¡±

    ¡°Protrusions, they will depress when you push them.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes, I believe I have found them... I see. It alters the pallor of hues.¡±

    ¡°Yep, adjust to a brightness you prefer. Maybe focus on a tree or rock as a benchmark.¡± Jon scanned the surroundings while she fiddled.

    ¡°Hmm, you asserted colours show heat while the netting shows form, yes?¡±

    ¡°You got it.¡±

    ¡°Scouts or spies would find these trinkets a boon. They work in darkness, yes?¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh to the latter and no-shit to the former. Let¡¯s continue; I want a secured defensive perimeter before sundown. We¡¯re burning sunlight, recruit!¡±

    Turning ninety-degrees, he hiked off to the second sensor spot. The wispy grass brushed up to his waist, both a help and a hindrance. Obscuring their schemes was useful, albeit the buoys had to use telescoping stakes for view clearance. Tallgrass in the preindustrial wilderness was a common enough obstacle that extensible sensor buoys were already in stores. I wonder how many Divers have written ¡®thwarted by tall grass¡¯ in their reports. Probably not many, ¡®thwarted¡¯ was an uncommon word. Definitely not him, that was for sure. No, he used ¡®foiled¡¯ or ¡®stymied¡¯.

    His modifications had become standard gear amongst local Divers, with a nice trickle of royalties to boot. Continuing that tradition these had yet another non-standard attachment on the top of the spheres. A small silver ring was perched on a motorised 2-DOF¡ªDegrees Of Freedom¡ªjoint. Essentially, two servos manipulating an upright ring to give him 360-degree rotation and angular pitch.

    He elongated and staked the last device. The silver ring made a few test rotations up, down, and around before settling again. Four black buoys floated atop a sea of undulating tawny grass as he swept his gaze across the field. They claimed a 100-metre square as their domain. Jon let out a breath and a single nod.

    ¡°My task is done; the vision confirms it,¡± reported Kay on audio comms.

    He glanced over to where he might have missed Kay¡¯s blond bobbing head among browning stalks, but she was haloed in AR green.

    ¡°Good job, move to that off-centre waypoint and we¡¯ll begin deployment.¡± He converged as well.

    ¡°So, which is it Kel-sun?¡± Asked Kay.

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°Are you a scout or a spy?¡±

    ¡°The only difference would be whose flag you¡¯re under.¡± Jon replied.

    ¡°That is perhaps true. So, which do you think you are?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not under any flag, Kay. The multiverse is a bit more complicated than that. My role changes depending on what I find, and who or what finds me. For now, I am a rat in a maze.¡±

    ¡°A maze?¡±

    ¡°A labyrinth. You¡¯ve heard stories about them, right?¡±

    ¡°Why a rat? Do you burrow through the walls?¡±

    ¡°In our world, we use rats to do tests. I am a test subject, and this world is the maze.¡±

    ¡°And what does that make me, Kel-sun?¡±

    ¡°It makes you free to choose. But I know how these things go. After you took that pill, things changed. You can¡¯t go back even if you wanted to. You''re committed for now.

    ¡°However, what role you choose is certainly one of the next choices. Take your time, and be true to yourself, I don¡¯t wanna hear any bullshit down the line that I made you do or be something. Ain¡¯t nobody got time for that!¡±

    They met at the AR flag.

    Kay said, ¡°you know Kel-sun, betimes there is savagery to your wisdom that both assuages and irks me.¡±

    ¡°Just how I like it.¡±

    Keya leapt at the task of flattening the surrounding grass. Clumsily she wrestled with obstinate stalks, while Jon retrieved a much larger version of the rift stake he¡¯d used the previous day. This one was made of steel and looked like a giant metre long screw the diameter of his calf. He initially softened the hole with a similarly retrieved fold-out pick and then hammered the stake in with a mallet. Kay held it upright as he did so.

    Thereafter they had to resort to screwing it into the earth on its large threads. It had opposing fold-out hollow handlebars for this purpose. They inserted the long handles of the mallet and pick on each end for extra leverage. Fortunately, they hit no large rocks below the surface. First time was the charm. This really is a fantasy world!

    ¡°Just how, by the Gods, does that bag work Kel-sun.¡± She wiped her brow from sweat, and they both drank to rehydrate.

    ¡°Come over here; I¡¯ll show you. Have you ever seen a wine cellar?¡±

    ¡°At a tavern or two, spirits stacked in wood or pottery alcoves,¡± Keya said.

    ¡°Fan-fucking-tastic, a reference you got on the first try. Back at base, I have a cellar with round alcoves just like those you¡¯ve seen. Except mine stores different items, like this mallet, for instance.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°I expected substantially more magic up to this point, honestly. So how did you retrieve it here?¡±

    ¡°You already know. Look in the bag.¡± He showed her the rift at the bottom of his pack. Its iris widened to the circumference of an empty cylindrical port. ¡°This shelf is back in the Bunker.¡±

    ¡°Of course! A door could also be a cupboard!¡±

    ¡°Good! Now put the sledge back. The correct slot is already aligned.¡±

    She hesitated.

    ¡°It¡¯s perfectly safe. Even if it closes with you halfway through, the wormhole threshold will simply hug your arm until you pull out. De-synced edge effects can be pretty exotic, but that¡¯s about it. Think of it like dipping into a pool of water.¡±

    ¡°You are certain beyond a shadow of a doubt?¡± asked Kay.

    ¡°I have substantial experience with this tech on industrial scales. No bullshit about severed limbs or molecular edges to worry about." They were well within protocol, best not to confuse or scare her so early on.

    "Did you say ''severed limbs''?"

    "Safe as puppies. Almost.¡±

    Glaring at the last word and then proceeding warily, she stowed the tool through the iris. Her eyes widened as she thrust past the bottom of the bag. ¡°Why did it pull to one side of the hole after passing through?¡±

    ¡°Because the orientation here and there is different. It¡¯s a wall shelf on that side not a hole in the floor. Once you move past the event horizon, the body force of gravity that side takes over.¡±

    ¡°That is vexing to imagine. How by the Gods did anyone conceive such an elaborate idea? Also, what is gravity?¡±

    ¡°Oh, hell no. Lee can handle Newtonian physics in night class with you. We don¡¯t have time for that now. You got that, Lee?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re an arsehole; you know that, Kel?¡± Jon¡¯s Australian handler finally piped up in their earphones.

    ¡°Heaven¡¯s above, I hear the spirit again!¡±

    ¡°Welcome to the party, love! The name¡¯s Peter Lee, noice ta meet cha.¡±

    Jon swore Lee laid the Ozzy accent on extra thick for newbies.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t gonna let you lurk in chat all damn day,¡± said Jon. ¡°And you¡¯re a wonderful teacher, Lee-sensei.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Chinese ya cunt.¡±

    ¡°Ey, tone it down for the ladies won¡¯ cha? And like you can speak a word of Chinese, what are you like, fifth- or sixth-gen.¡±

    ¡°Fucken ¡®Nihao¡¯ bitch.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    ¡°My word, he is worse than you! I had thought spirits communed with somewhat greater decorum.¡±

    Jon answered, ¡°Well, now you know where I got it from. For the record, Lee is not dead, he¡¯s just very, very far away, on my homeworld. He¡¯s my handler, helps with operations, debriefing, and oversight. The veritable man at the mic.¡±

    After ensuring the auger was mostly level, he stepped back. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get this bloody show on the road.¡±

    He reached into the top of the hollow steel spike and pulled out four stabilisation cables. Once inflated, they were anchored in the ground to stop the structure from billowing in the breeze. Activated rifts provided a bit more structural integrity, but not enough for something this big. It was a hassle more than anything dangerous.

    The stake hissed, spewing its inflatable contents. A plain brown tube, six metres in diameter, inflated. For the sake of symmetry and rigidity on such a large loop, wind-permeable fabric spanned the interior, and the lip was 7-centimetres thick.

    Fully inflated, it was the height of a 2-story building at its peak. Not the hugest Rift Jon had seen or used, but a majestic sight nonetheless. Accordingly, Kay was standing enraptured, again, staring up at the thing.

    ¡°You saw the same thing earlier,¡± Jon said. ¡°It¡¯s just bigger.¡±

    ¡°Much bigger!¡± She replied without looking away.

    I guess size matters to her. ¡°Anchor these two cables at 45-degrees, adjacent to the ring. Just a little tension, you hear, not enough to warp the loop.¡±

    She nodded, and Jon did the same his side.

    Done and satisfied, he said, ¡°I¡¯m turning it on. We''re connecting to the Bunker¡¯s centre chamber, not the Rift Room.¡±

    It flicked soundlessly on; showing the central vaulted chamber: the garage.

    ¡°This hall is part of your manor as well?¡± Kay asked.

    The area now visible beyond the ring sequentially lit up as fluorescent lights flickered on. The bulbs hung from a 15-metre high geodesic domed ceiling. With the grass field in the setting sun¡¯s shadow, an artificial glow emanated from the towering ellipse in space.

    Keya spoke, her expression displayed abject awe. ¡°How much bigger can these marvels get?¡±

    ¡°As big as you like, but power costs climb, and alignment for larger segmented rings is a bitch. Rift engineering is a booming business.¡±

    Jon stepped through, lifting his leg to clear the tubular lip and the ramp on the other side. A large white cabin trailer stood in the centre on tiny wheels. Draped limply upon and around it was a similarly white, composite, rubberised cloth.

    Off to the right of the main attraction was a parked rubber-tracked forklift. An array of other lifting and bulldozing attachments were strewn nearby. The faithful little machine was scratched, dirtied, and rusted with use. To the left were racks and bins hosting numerous tools. They too showed all the signs of rigorous punishment.

    Muttering mostly to himself he said, ¡°Hello, my babies! Your aid is needed once more.¡±

    ¡°Did you just speak to your stable of contraptions?¡±

    That damn elf hearing!

    ¡°Are they alive?¡± She remained in the field within the small area of flattened grass.

    ¡°No, they aren¡¯t. These tools are just super useful. Come on in. Have a look at our primary field asset.¡± He turned to inspect his prized, almost paid for, possession. Diver credit was the best in the multiverse, backed by Alpha itself. If not for that, his insane machinations might never have come to fruition.

    The white trailer was, in reality, a gondola that tapered toward the bottom. It had luxuriously sized windows along the front and fuselage. Rounded squares of transparent polycarbonate extended across most portions of the side-hull. The unobstructed backs of seats currently rotated to hug the walls were visible. If a person sat inside with seating turned forward, they would be seen from head to toe. The cockpit was like that of a helicopter: two seats and copious viewports below and around the flight console. On top and around the gondola sat the flaccid envelope. The cabin was fused directly to the balloon instead of being hung below via cables. The whole bundle and further composite cloth dragged behind. Packaged as such, it could pass through the Rift, barely.

    ¡°Explain Master; I am growing tired of asking what, why, or how every minute.¡± Kay approached to stand next to him, arms folded, looking up at the thing. She had reverted to the ¡®Master¡¯ moniker. With no one around he¡¯d let it slide for now.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± He turned to look at her. ¡°we need a safe word. This is a military-grade, long-term surveillance hybrid airship. I call this beauty the HAS, short for Hybrid Airship. With the main plot off a cliff, we are sacrificing subtlety for manoeuvrability.¡±

    ¡°And what do all those words mean?¡± She folded her arms, fixing him with a side stare.

    Lee replied. ¡°It¡¯s a flying ship, love. A ship that flies, an airship.¡±

    Keya¡¯s cajoling laughter answered. ¡°Perhaps on a wyvern or dragon, if you could tame such a thing it is possible, but a whole ship! ThisI will have to see!¡±

    ¡°Oh, shit! You have dragons and wyverns? Lee, check the Diver¡¯s Wiki and Net. I need operating elevations of pterosaurs.¡±

    ¡°Already on it!¡±

    ¡°Of course, I¡¯ve never owned or even gotten near one,¡± said Kay. ¡°Perhaps some kings or nobles have the riches and fortune to rear and train them.¡±

    Jon spent a few minutes kicking the dirt with impatience. If predators that large could reach them in the skies there was no guarantee the point defences would be enough. Still, by land would be no safer.

    Lee returned. ¡°Estimates on pterosaurs are sketchy, given habitat diet and migration they stay pretty close to sea-level. Birds, however, are another story up to 11000 metres for Ruppel¡¯s Vulture our side. If it¡¯s that high our measly 6K operating elevation won¡¯t cut it. Depends on how close these beasts are related to what.¡±

    ¡°Fuuck! We have to eyeball it. Alright Keya, time to earn your keep. Kudos on the giant flying reptiles PSA.¡±

    ¡°What do you need, Master?¡± she asked, immediately all business.

    ¡°Where do dragons and wyverns live, and any other large flying beasts for that matter.¡±

    ¡°I am no expert, but I have heard of caves hills and cliffs. Gryphons are similar.¡±

    ¡°Fucking Griffins too! Okay, do they live above the tree-line, you know where trees stop growing on mountains?¡±

    ¡°I cannot say for sure, but I suppose so.¡±

    ¡°Right, so how about this. In the stories, are their lairs easily reached by humans, no mention of thin air or difficulty breathing?¡±

    ¡°I believe not, but I will have to consult Grandpa¡¯s bestiary to confirm it.¡±

    ¡°Remind me to scan that book when we get back tonight and all your damn books for that matter. Lee needs homework too.¡±

    ¡°More, bloody work!¡± Lee quipped.

    ¡°What about behaviours and feeding habits? Do they migrate? What do they eat?¡±

    ¡°They are known to stay in lairs for years at times. Livestock and big game are their preferences. Gryphons have seasonal perches.¡±

    ¡°Crap, that¡¯s not helping. Alright tell me about body structure, you¡¯ve seen pictures and descriptions right. Are they muscular? What¡¯s relative wing-to-body size?¡±

    ¡°Well, I have not seen any personally, but if the Elven Huntsmen are to be believed¡ªand they are famed to take pride in their work¡ªthen these are all dangerous beasts with hulking muscular bodies. They are hunted by ambush and chasing them on horseback across the countryside. The beasts must repeatedly land to regain stamina; eventually they are too spent to fly off.¡±

    Jon mulled to himself. ¡°High oxygen expenditure and low endurance, that makes high altitude capability unlikely. Possibly apex predators. Why would they need to fly high; food is low, as is the lair? High perches are for protection. What do they need protection from?¡±

    ¡°They are the hunter, not the hunted. Save for some valiant heroes; few would approach their homes, even animals.¡± Kay replied.

    ¡°Fair enough, we¡¯re gonna roll the dice. But I¡¯m switching some munitions to flak. Lee, please get me a specialist opinion. I¡¯m risking a serious asset here, and it¡¯s not even paid for yet. Don¡¯t be stingy.¡±

    ¡°Got it, Guv.¡±

    ¡°Hey! Abstruse language my thing! Kay, thanks a bunch. That kind of intel is what you¡¯re here for. We may have just dodged a bullet.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re most welcome, Master. From the banter, I assume the ¡®airship¡¯ will be safe.¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± Jon said.

    ¡°Probably!¡± Replied Kay.

    ¡°Yeah, nothing¡¯s certain beyond death, taxes, and loss of data. Now, c¡¯mon over here, I¡¯ve got a special job just for you.¡± He smiled.

 3.6 Reprieve

    Now this was something Keya understood! She held with handlebars similar to a scythe on a long iron beam ending in a circular rotating blade. As she waded into the stalks, she clasped a lever spinning the circular saw, reaping them cleanly and effortlessly. It was called a grass cutter, and it cut grass.

    Why couldn¡¯t everything with Master Kel be this simple? Her vision guided where she must go, showing the desired trimming area in a blue hue. An oval area of about fifty paces wide was her assignment. That, and to locate large rocks that may impede Master¡¯s ''progress'', whatever that may be. It was getting darker, but the enchanted vision was supplementing the light.

    Since they first met, Jon had paraded one magic device after the next in front of her. Each preempted with fantastical words and esoteric uses. Almost everything he owned moved of its own Gods¡¯ damned accord. The grasscutter was no exception, but she could forgive it this sin, given its otherwise forthright integrity in name and function. He was like some male youth trying to impress her by showing his collection of toys, except there was no end to them, and each one was indeed more impressive than the next. Ancestors give me wisdom; his mind and motivations are unfathomable.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    But cutting grass, this she understood. It was in front of her, she could raze it with impunity, and nothing so simple had ever felt this rewarding. Perhaps that is why he assigned the task to her. Is he truly that wise?

    She glanced back to the mighty portal, joining his and her realm. He looked nothing like a sagely master. The inscrutable jester was blithely skipping about laying ramps across the threshold for his begrimed cart. It moved of its own damned accord too, because of course it did.

    He trotted the battered beast out and onto the plain. All the while, it grumbled and growled as it trudged on inner wheels with long flat bands about them, laying the road it rolled upon. Quite ingenious. The magical beast did not sound particularly pleased with its lot in life, but heavens was it strong. Wrestling mighty boulders out of its path with the frontal scoop. The stones left deep gouges in the earth as Master casually rode the thing. Levers and pedals in his saddle were manipulated without so much as a glance. The casual confidence of each preemptive motion belied much familiarity with his mount. Keya barely knew how to ride a horse much less that!

    She resumed her charge. More stalks deserved her frustrations, and she had plenty to spare.

 3.7 Field Lecture

    ¡°Kay, say thank you to Pochi the forklift for doing the pulling.¡± Jon had just finished dragging the airship and its copious folds of balloon fabric out the bunker. It was early evening, so his AR had switched to grey-scale low-light augmentation. He leaned on the vehicle drinking Rooibos tea from a cold flask.

    ¡°You named this rusted horseless cart after your dog?¡± She had returned after zealously cutting the grass far further back than was necessary. Any job worth doing was worth doing well, he supposed.

    Passing her another flask, he idly reached over and picked some grass out of her hair.

    ¡°Who¡¯s to say I didn''t name my dog after it? This off-road workhorse is old enough.¡± Jon patted the battered and paint-stripped body. She might outlive him if he wasn¡¯t careful. ¡°Also she¡¯s a cart-less horse. Don¡¯t listen to Kay, Pochi; she¡¯s an elvish meanie!¡±

    The elf just shook her head.

    Jon returned Pochi to the garage and replaced her scoop with a padded lifting claw. Then he carefully roved about the HAS grabbing and positioning the engines before inflation. Kay was recruited to guide lifting and lowering.

    The side engines¡ªor nacelles¡ªwere positioned on the outside of the envelope. They extended laterally from the ship on single bulky beams. Traditionally being prop engines, these were simply aerodynamic cylinders with two inner conductive rings, as was the single thrust engine on the tail-end of the ship. Unfolding was trivial, most of it it would unfurl by itself during inflation.

    In contrast, fold-up for storage was a bitch. By that point, he would have help. If not, there were much bigger problems to worry about.

    With the whole floppy vehicle adequately laid out, Pochi was returned to her bunker parking spot, and Jon approached the right nacelle with Kay shadowing him.

    ¡°Lee, activate the Right Engine Intake Rift. Zero thrust. Kay, stand clear.¡±

    ¡°Activating right intake. Bunker turbine fans are still offline, zero airflow,¡± said Lee.

    The hollow metre-wide engine cowling had fore and aft Rifts, and the entry blinked on revealing a dark concrete tunnel beyond. A soft breeze tugged through.

    ¡°That portal is rather small,¡± said Kay.

    ¡°For air, not people,¡± replied Jon. ¡°Activate outtake rift, please Lee.¡±

    Jon sauntered to the back end of the white nacelle and saw a similar dingy pipe. Musty smells from the bunker¡¯s concrete ducting wafted out.

    ¡°Okay give me 99% constriction and cycle up Fan One to 5 per cent.¡± Jon twirled his finger¡ªthe universal signal for startup¡ªan old habit.

    ¡°99% constriction, switching on Fan One to 5%, roger.¡±

    He felt the expelled breeze climb to a gust. Kay was behind him.

    ¡°The hole breathes!¡±

    ¡°That it does, Kay, be sure to stay away from these things at most times. We wouldn¡¯t want it to breathe you in and spit you out. There¡¯s a grid in the bunker for that, but it won¡¯t be pleasant, or very survivable. I¡¯ve scraped a fair share of pigeons out from the ducts. It¡¯s better than losing an engine, but you don¡¯t wanna be the bird.¡± Kay wisely took a few steps back.

    ¡°Lee, shut down this one and let¡¯s repeat with the other engines. Skip Fan Two use No. 4 instead. Maintenance is scheduled for this week, I promise.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like you running without spares, Kel. I¡¯m moving it up to tomorrow morning. No complaints or I¡¯ll dive down myself and beat ya with a monkey wrench.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Mom.¡±

    Following the engine tests, Jon started up the helium pumps in the bunker and they, in turn, pumped gas through Rift-connected valves to the interior blimp portion of the airship. This aerostat differed from the standard shape. The ship was not a single ovular envelope. Instead, it was two, side by side, overlapping and merged in the centre¡ªmore volume for less length. Essentially, two ovoids nestled in parallel, instead of one, making a crude airfoil of its own. That, along with a few winglets, provided extra lift and manoeuvrability which justified the ¡®hybrid¡¯ part of its name. The inflated form looked very similar to certain kinds of body parts from all sorts of angles. Such comparisons were, as a rule, strictly forbidden among his Dive crew. The HAS was a beautiful girl, and Jon would not tolerate any blasphemous commentary to the contrary.

    There was next-to-no technology that was passed down to Non-Root Worlds save for the essential use of Rifts for further exploration. Even where the first anchor Rift was deployed remained a mystery. A trade secret of Alpha, along with how worlds were discovered and linked. Way above Jon¡¯s paygrade, in any event. But all Rifts thereafter required little more than a radio signal and a conductive ring to affix the event horizon to. The meagre power requirements could be fed from either side. This suited everyone perfectly fine. There were untold design limitations that could be overcome with just this technology alone.

    Say, for example, a blimp required periodic helium refilling and refuelling. It could be filled in flight. And why would there be a need for engines when only thrust was required? Toss off heavy propellers and the massive fuel load. The HAS was gutted of almost everything traditional flying vehicles necessitated. As such the required inflated envelope was close to half the size of its non-Rift counterpart. His gorgeous flying beauty, when full-busted, came in at 50 metres long, 24 metres wide, and 13 metres high.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    The white gondola sat snuggly nestled beneath the double ovoid crease. As the envelope inflated, pneumatic skids on opposing ovoids hoisted the cabin off the ground. The skids were puncture-resistant and could land on almost any surface. The cabin could comfortably seat a group of ten people on the chairs alone. A little wider than a luxury train car, but not as long, with plenty of standing headroom. The benefits of a rectangular form factor were obvious.

    But why stay inside a ¡®cramped¡¯ cabin all day when the capacious comfort of the bunker was just an event horizon away. Accordingly, at the back of the cabin¡ªwhere a lavatory might be¡ªthere was an inconspicuous human-height silver ring.

    Constellations sparkled above while the balloon filled and unfolded. Anchor stakes were pinned to the ground to secure the ship. Their slack ropes pulled taut as gas bolstered its shape with every cubic metre. The pair stood together eating Onigiri rice balls with salmon filling and Nori seaweed wrapping. Dinner on the go was all Jon could manage tonight.

    ¡°It swells and bloats inch-meal,¡± said Kay between mouthfuls. ¡°Like the air hoops?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but I''m blowing a special kind of air inside.¡±

    ¡°These sticky white grains of rice are delightful, by the way. The quality is better than southern imports by far.¡± She took another bite. ¡°So, You are capturing air within animal skin?¡±

    ¡°Not animal skin, it¡¯s a synthetic composite. A combination of materials not found naturally.¡± Finishing his food, he dusted his hands of stray rice.

    ¡°Remarkable, but to what end do you do this?¡±

    Arms folded, he turned to her. ¡°Do as I say, Kay, breathe in.¡± She did so. ¡°Now breathe out.¡± An exhalation followed. ¡°Is the air you breathed in the same as that which you breathed out?¡±

    ¡°It may smell different, I suppose, a bit more moist and warm.¡± She breathed into a free hand¡ªthe Onigiri in the other.

    ¡°It is called respiration, you take something from the air and exchange it for something that you put back. The air going into your lungs is not the same as the air coming out. Beyond the moisture, heat, and smell, there is something else. Breathe the same air again and again from a wet sack or in a cave, and eventually, it will deplete causing you to faint. Air is made up of many different kinds, but only one sustains you. Does any of this sound familiar?¡±

    ¡°I have never heard someone describe breath in such a manner; it seems rather trivial a subject to muse so deeply upon. Alas, your ruminations always have some purpose, so please continue, Master.¡±

    ¡°These different kinds of ''air'' we call gases. The one we need to breathe¡ªand incidentally fires also need to burn¡ªis called Oxygen. You see, you eat air, just like you eat food and drink water. Tell me, if you drank oil, would it quench you?¡±

    ¡°Surely not, the thought alone discomforts me!¡± Keya mimed a gag response. Afterwards, she licked her fingers clean. No stray rice grain ever found the earth. Good thing he forced her to use disinfectant beforehand.

    ¡°Course not. Similarly, there are different kinds of things that flow: liquids. And only one sustains you, but the others have their uses. And that brings us to your question. Oil is lighter than water, fill a waterskin with oil and throw it into a lake or river and it will float. Fill it with air, and it floats better still. So what happens if you have a gas lighter than air?¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s preposterous! Air is not like water. For one, it has no surface.¡±

    ¡°If you lived on the bottom of the ocean your whole life you might think the same of water.¡±

    ¡°It does not ebb and flow like rivers and the tide!¡±

    ¡°What do you think wind is, no wait lemme guess too ¡®trivial to ruminate¡¯ on?¡±

    ¡°You cannot swim in air!¡± Her consternation was growing.

    ¡°Birds and fucking dragons do. What do you think? Everything just operates via magic!?¡±

    ¡°I-I refuse to believe such an asinine notion! Air cannot even be seen! There is no way, gods be my witness, that you could know so much about something so inscrutable! You will have to prove it!¡±

    ¡°With pleasure.¡± Jon glanced at the airship. There were a few hours left of inflation, and something else was necessary before that. They were in murky, darkness, relying almost entirely on sensors. It would remain so until just prior to launch. If I¡¯m gonna give some poor sods a close encounter of the third kind, lights and all, best be ready to lift off soon after.

    Jon reached into his pack and pulled out a standard surveillance balloon. Identical ones had been deployed¡ªalways at night¡ªto give them their current map coverage and network. Unfastening the compact package, he let the flimsy white material unfold and activated the helium Rift valve. A slow hiss ensued, filling the envelope, rapidly offsetting weight with buoyancy.

    ¡°This is a surveillance balloon. Ultimately, I hope to get thousands if not more in the sky. The principle for this is the same as the airship. I fill it with a gas lighter than air, called Helium.

    "Do you see how it pulls up like trapped air under water?¡± The balloon sagged with loose folds like a plastic bag trapping air in a pool. It would not be completely filled upon release since higher elevations had lower pressures and the inner gas would volumetrically expand.

    ¡°I do, but it could simply be a trick of this strange pellucid fabric.¡± Her cynicism was working overtime.

    ¡°Come over here, hold it yourself.¡± He held out the balloon, lifting stronger with every second. Keya approached cautiously and with slim fingers grasped the plastic above his. He let go.

    ¡°Oh, I feel it pulling! You swear you¡¯re not a Wind mage?¡±

    ¡°Just the applied principles of science is all. Let go; it needs no help to fly.¡±

    As Keya released it, the balloon bobbed a tad and then slowly rose into the starry sky. Its little sensor box dangled underneath dragged on slack material.

    ¡°You are a liar, Master.¡± The comment was sombre.

    ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°I recall you promising no more than one great revelation per day. This makes it at least two since the morrow. Some doubts remain, but this is hard to deny. How is it you know so much and know it so well?¡±

    ¡°16 years of education, thirst for knowledge, and the Internet.¡± Listing on his fingers. ¡°I realise the difference appears starker.¡±

    ¡°¡®Stark¡¯ falls short of what I feel,¡± replied Kay.

    ¡°Ja, I¡¯m sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t be.¡± Her head turned to him, but it was hard to make out her expression in the dark, even with infrared.

    ¡°Take a break, but don''t wander beyond the cut grass. It¡¯ll be an hour or two before the airship is ready.¡± Jon left for a perimeter sweep and to finish his Poker game with Lee.

 3.8 Goblins!

    The sensor balloon¡¯s use was twofold. Mapping and network extension were its primary functions. However, as it rose, it could trailblaze the airship¡¯s ascent and at lower elevations could extend the sensor sweep of the area. Thus, at about four minutes after release, aside from wildlife, around twenty red pings appeared on Jon¡¯s HUD Map. He sighted down his rifle in their direction, but vegetation and landscape made direct confirmation impossible. They were about one kilometre away, making a descent down a nearby hill towards the grassland.

    ¡°Lee, what did the balloon pick up?¡± Video feed directly to his eyes of every camera in the field would very quickly obscure his vision. Lee sat in a room full of screens; data collation and assessment fell under his purview.

    ¡°Thermals aren¡¯t great with resolution, but it looks like we got a group of 21 short humanoids. And I mean like 1st grader short, all about 100cm tall. Bipedal with primitive tools: clubs and spears, probably¡±

    ¡°Can you crop a good profile of one and send it to us? Keya may be able to ID.¡±

    In the meantime, transposed pings flared on AR for convenience.

    ¡°Kel-sun what are those red dots I see far off?¡±

    ¡°Lee¡¯s getting us a close up now, just sit tight. You¡¯ll see an image appear in the lower left of your vision.¡± Jon started shifting back to the HAS.

    ¡°Understood, Master.¡±

    A few minutes later, the mottled and blurred image of a thermal silhouette appeared in their vision. It had a bulbous head, spindly arms and a slightly distended stomach. Keya took a sharp breath and spat.

    ¡°Goblins!¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Her apparent disdain was unsurprising, but jarring from someone otherwise so prim.

    ¡°A hunting troupe no doubt. Am I to assume one dot for each cretin?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, 21 Tangos, and they appear to be moving closer,¡± Jon said.

    ¡°That is not an insignificant number, were you any other man I would suggest rapid retreat. Goblins are a cowardly bunch, but no less ruthless and cunning in large numbers. Beware their weapons are dirty, and many a good adventurer succumbs to blood poisoning with only the minutest of cuts.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.¡°Do they know we¡¯re here?¡±

    ¡°Their sense of smell is keen, and their vision at night close to that of Dwarves. If we are upwind of them, I have no doubt they have caught our scent. Your magical ship is also massive.¡±

    Jon glanced at the airship. ¡°You say the nicest things!¡± It would still be an hour at least, and then there were preflight checks; stuff he could not rush if he wanted a reliable bulbous bird in the sky. They would have to dig in and rout this group if and when they approached.

    ¡°I wish I had my shortbow.¡±

    ¡°Smashed by goblins right?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I am not at all acquainted with swords; this blade is next to useless on my belt. I would not wish to close with any foe. I hope you have a plan Kel-sun, I doubt my second capture will be quite so fortunate. Can I assume we will not abandon the ¡®Airship¡¯?¡±

    ¡°That you can. Our perimeter already has defensive deterrents, and the envelope''s inflated enough to activate point defences. Twenty kids approaching without cover will not have a good time.¡±

    ¡°I do not see the comparison with baby goats but very well. Do you at least have a weapon for me?¡±

    ¡°I got stuff in the warehouse, but it¡¯s not readily accessible at the moment. I¡¯ll sort you out when we get back. You¡¯re not trained to handle a firearm, and may well be more dangerous than the goblins if I give you one. So I¡¯m gonna have to ask you to sit back. If retreat is necessary, I¡¯ll activate the gondola Rift.¡±

    ¡°I have yet to truly see you in combat, Master. I sincerely hope this ¡®Sai-ens¡¯ magic of yours is as formidable as you have claimed.¡±

    ¡°Your confidence is always reassuring, Kay. I¡¯ll likely have nothing to do either.¡±

    Jon heard soft maniacal laughter, ¡°So you claim we will win without either of us having to fight?¡± She shuffled away, slumping on a mound of cut grass near the HAS.

    ¡°Oh, yea of little faith. One more question, how intelligent are goblins? Can they be negotiated with? Do they trade and barter?¡±

    ¡°Goblins are the lowest of sub-races, few would consider them more than vermin. Little interests them beyond eating and ploughing anything with a hole. Their numbers can proliferate if they are not regularly culled or thoroughly exterminated from an area.¡±

    ¡°They can¡¯t breed with other races, can they?¡±

    ¡°Thank heavens no, but that doesn¡¯t stop them from playing with their food before eating it.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for keeping it PG. All the same, I will have to give them a warning before we engage. Altercations with new species require I try to broker for peace according to protocol.¡±

    ¡°Do whatever rituals you need, either they or we die tonight.¡± She drooped her head in finality.

 3.9 LZ Massacre

    It took another three-quarter of an hour for the accursed goblin troupe to inexorably make their way down the hill southward toward Master¡¯s ¡°El-Zi¡±. Keya had finally identified time numerals in her vision; perhaps her most monumental achievement to date. His people were a very exacting sort, dividing hours in sixty and then sixty again. Ostensibly, only knowing dawn, noon, and dusk was unfit for their means.

    After all, here they were at the twentith hour, long past sundown, lingering to fight green devils. Night was the domain of monsters; did he not know or not care? Both I venture. The goblins approached facing the bulbous white ship¡¯s starboard side, although fore and aft was guesswork on her part. There were two seats behind elaborate curved glass that looked like coach seats; this she labelled the bow. The stern exposed a rugged boarding ramp. Keya had honestly never seen so much metal on display that was not tools, weapons, armour, or coin. What she did not see was wood, stone, leather, and bone. They had since deflated and dismantled his mighty portal. The ship and four anchors were all that remained on the sheered grass field.

    This fabulous hoard of resources before her would be tempting to anyone, even goblins, though food always came first for them. The cretins approached on the flat plain insidiously stalking in the long weeds. None should ever have spotted them, nor did they make a sound. She begrudgingly respected their skill followed by pity, though only briefly. Were they hunting anyone else in the realm, save this visitor, the element of surprise would be theirs. As the group reached 200 paces from the stakes, coloured lights in Keya¡¯s visor fleshed out more details. Their ugly physiques and cowardly tactics flared a burning hatred in her heart. She could not bear doing nothing. Master was protectively ahead of her, black artefact in hand, with the ship behind. Fleeing to the sanctuary of his subterrane keep beckoned at her every fibre, but she could not leave while her comrade, only days old, stood unyielding. Regardless of their relationship, Keya was no aristocratic wench. If he stood stalwart then so would she. Though I am absolutely terrified! She unsheathed the cumbersome shortsword. It was all she could do. Running backwards or forwards were both equally untenable feats.

    Master waited for the green rodents to advance another hundred paces, still in the high grass. At which point he knelt on one knee and shouldered the artefact like a crossbow. Finally, the man announced that such stalking was all for nought. Also giving up their element of surprise.

    ¡°Goblins, please stand down. I.e. stop and fuck off. If you approach any closer, we will be forced to use lethal force. I.e. you will die, and it will not be pretty. Voetsek!¡±

    Who is ''we''? Keya was dubious as to what "lethal force" she had at her disposal.

    The goblins looked about quizzically. Keya too might have wondered how anyone had spotted them in darkness and such fortuitous cover. They were still about one hundred and fifty paces away. At least she suspected that was what the floating numbers meant. This "Sai-Ens¡¯s" amenity was rapidly becoming apparent. What does the ''m'' denote I wonder: ¡®Man paces¡¯, ¡®Magic paces¡¯?

    Keya unclenched her jaw. ¡°Goblins may not even understand Common, Master,¡±

    ¡°What really? What do they speak?¡±

    ¡°Goblin, Master.¡± She knew not whether to cry or to laugh. This strange world she was foisted into was farcical at times. He is a brilliant mystic one second and then bumbling buffoon the next. Yet, he never appeared off-balance, as if even his floundering was a purposeful ruse.

    ¡°Do you speak Goblin?¡±

    Many answers once again raced through her mind. Such as ¡®Are you an imbecile, no!¡¯ or ¡®Gods, no, who would be insane enough to try!?¡¯ and ¡®Fuck, no!¡¯ She feared Master¡¯s influence in that later response. Instead, she settled for: ¡°No.¡±

    The goblins were not so wracked with indecision and had started to advance despite Master¡¯s ¡®sage¡¯ advice. They were quickly picking up speed, and Keya readied her pithy fighting stance despite herself being all but useless.

    The coloured vision was useful but nowhere near as sharp as her eyes in daylight, so instead, she extended her feel of the earth. It was a small area less than one pace around, but she swept ahead anyway to sense their scrubby footfalls.

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s a ¡®No¡¯,¡± he said. And without further warning, the nearest goblin¡¯s head pulped like a stone hitting water. She felt around where the goblin collapsed but couldn¡¯t understand what had happened. Another and then another occurred; Goblin war cries turned to screams.

    Overcome by morbid curiosity, she probed further. Airy whistles blew from the black sceptre-like stakes they planted earlier. Prior to every dead goblin, there was a constricted pop, like clay blown from a reed. Then following the felled victim, she would at times sense something small tumble away, thudding above her imbued earth. They were slick with blood making it harder to feel. She found another unbloodied and poured her magic into it. They were perfectly round pebbles about the size of a copper coin. Flung like slingshots or faster, they left pounded flesh and crushed bone in their wake.

    ¡°Wh-What are these stones you are slinging at them, so smoothly polished and flung at such speeds?¡±

    ¡°How the hell do you see anything in this light?¡±

    ¡°I am using Earth magic, Master. I sense the footfalls and where your stones tumble.¡±

    ¡°Wow, that ability for recon would be super useful. You gotta show me more when we have a chance. To answer your question, I have potato guns back at base and a lot of balls¡ªconcrete and iron ones to be precise." He chuckled for no apparent reason. "I¡¯m using concrete since stopping power isn¡¯t an issue and recovery would be a hassle. Easy to make and low maintenance on the guns, add compressed air and we are ¡®A¡¯ for away. Just pipe the shot to the gimbal-mounted rings on the sensor buoys, and Evy takes care of targeting. Presto a poor man¡¯s auto-turret.¡±

    ¡°Please, Master, I wish to understand this time, could you use less made-up words.¡±

    ¡°Oh! I am perfectly eloquent; I¡¯ll have you know young Ms!¡± He glanced back. ¡°Fine! I am slinging round stones with air through a pipe and then out a small portal from my bunker. I can show you the contraption when we get back.¡±

    ¡°Who is aiming them?¡±

    ¡°The computer is: Evy. Our resident AI. I mean¡­¡± He spoke quieter to himself between intermittent goblin screams and splats. ¡°How the fuck do I explain computers, this one is always difficult.¡± There was a pause and then speaking louder. ¡°Okay, what kind of things or beings can think in your world?¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Keya chastised herself. Do not distract him in the heat of battle, you dolt! ¡°Forgive me; I shall leave inquiry for later.¡±

    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine. No time like the present.¡± He did not turn or shift from their quarry. ¡°Please, continue.¡± A goblin yelped in the grass, as if in comical assent.

    ¡°T-The Elder and Mortal Races of course and then the Sub Races to some extent. As for things, elementals are alleged to think and act to some degree.¡±

    ¡°Elementals, huh? I got a lot to learn.¡± A long pained growl ensued, followed by an abrupt end after a meaty thud.

    How ignorant am I if you have much to learn?

    ¡°I guess we¡¯ll run with the analogue for now. Evy is a thinking elemental. I won¡¯t get into her workings much, but she handles most of the ¡®artefacts¡¯, as you say, that I use. You can give her orders, and Evy will obey. No physical body, though. More like she will retrieve knowledge you wish to know. Like a librarian. You know what those are right?¡±

    Were they casually conversing while he rained death! Gods damn it, she would try split her attention! A glance beyond him showed close to half the attackers splayed still on the ground. The rest were obstinately crawling forward, some using their deceased brethren as literal meat shields.

    ¡°Y-Yes, I know of libraries though I have never been in one aside from yours. They are for privileged nobles and wealthy merchants. Speaking of which, might I humbly request the perusal of your tomes. I understand it is impertinent to regu-¡±

    ¡°Yes. You don¡¯t need my permission. Hell, I want you to learn. Freely and whenever you choose. You have unrestricted Internet access too. You¡¯ve yet to understand what that means, so let the books be an overture.¡±

    Heartless as the goblin tactics were, fewer green skins fell in their prone formation; conversely, progress was much slowed.

    ¡°I¡­ that is extremely beneficent of you, Master.¡± The privilege felt unearned. He was almost certainly making a blunder being so lenient with her.

    Jon offhandedly shrugged in the grey visor light.

    ¡°Evy is your slave then?¡±

    Another goblin wailed in pain, obviously not hit anywhere immediately lethal enough. Keya kept her sword up.

    ¡°Slave! No, she has no independent will or desires. A long way away from being sapient, sentient maybe. She isn¡¯t alive. Merely a human voice over a machine or ¡®artefact¡¯ to make interaction more accessible.¡±

    ¡°How can you be so sure? If she speaks, then she must be alive.¡±

    ¡°Because I built and installed her¡ªit. The labelling of gender is just human sentimentality. It¡¯s not alive. But I get how you don¡¯t see the difference.¡±

    ¡°You BUILT her!¡± Gods above, just what kind of magus had she stumbled upon!

    ¡°Again, not as hard as you think, I just assembled the parts and installed the software.¡±

    Keya absently noted the night had become quiet once more. She refocused on the squat coloured silhouettes. Most prone bodies shone white or flickered red.

    All of a sudden, one goblin broke from the high stalks. Charging and screaming at them in its squeaky tenor.

    ¡°One sec.¡± Master Kel¡¯s weapon bellowed three deafening booms muting the night. The goblin backflipped face-first into the ground and moved no more. ¡°Oops, the calibre might be a little too high.¡±

    Keya dropped her sword in shock, ears ringing from the ruckus. By the gods, what power does this man wield!

    Master continued unperturbed. ¡°Look, Evy can assist you too. She¡¯s in your visor and earphones. Evy, say hello to Keya. I set up your profile, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Good evening, Keya. My name is Evy,¡± said a faint and distant female voice in her ears. It was polite with an air of practised deference, albeit there was something offbeat in the voice she could not quite place. ¡°I am an integrated AI adapted to assist Divers and their teams, both at home and in the field. Please say my name before any questions or commands.¡±

    ¡°Another damned voice in my head!¡± It¡¯s one cursed thing after the next!

    ¡°But this one is useful.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Lee cut in to give his two cents.

    ¡°Will they talk while I sleep?!¡± Could she ever get peace from all these things, noises, and voices!

    ¡°Only if you want them to. Wait that came out wrong.¡±

    ¡°I already know far more than I wish to. Are the goblins dead? I feel somewhat cheated of an arduous challenge and a little powerless.¡±

    ¡°Evy, sit rep to team.¡±

    Evy replied blithe and cheery in her ears. ¡°The 21 assailants identified as Goblins have been neutralised within a 95% probability based on sensor data. The last body stopped breathing about 17 seconds ago.¡±

    ¡°Master, I have no more words. I have no words, and I have too many questions. It is also far too late at night. Are we done here?¡± She was done with this madness for one day.

    He looked about, ¡°Yeah, ship is ready. Just a round of preflight checks, remove the buoys and anchors, and we¡¯re off. Also, I need to collect a goblin corpse and check for loot. You guys don¡¯t eat goblin, do you?¡±

    She could only squat and stare at the ground; this man was incorrigible. Retrieving the useless sword, she sheathed it as she stood in an apathetic daze.

    Jon read her expression. ¡°No? Damn, I guess my quest for good biltong continues. Fine climb on board and I¡¯ll be right back.¡±

    Ten minutes later, he climbed the back ramp himself with a shiny black bag clearly holding a small corpse. He slumped it on the floor and lifted the ramp sealing their chamber.

    Keya looked to him, dumbed by recent events. She slumped in a seat; the chairs hugged the outer hull facing inward, leaving plenty space for thoroughfare. There happened to be a circular glass window showing cut and flattened plants directly below and before her in the cabin floor. Her feet rested limply atop the window.

    ¡°Good seat, you might want to use the seat belt.¡±

    Keya made no moves in response. Why am I here? Thoughts were muddled and murky.

    Perhaps sensing her state, Jon summoned cabin illumination and crouched before her. Gently, he removed the visor and ear contraptions, tossing them on a nearby chair. Deliberate hands found straps at her sides and secured her to the seat. ¡°We are going up,¡± he pointed. ¡°If the view through the glass floor gets scary, pull this latch.¡± He guided her fingers to the cold clasp. ¡°And the belt will release. Then move to the back of the ship where there are no windows, okay?¡±

    Keya nodded; she felt exhausted in a perplexing way.

    ¡°We¡¯ll move through to the bunker when we reach cruise altitude.¡± He put both hands on her shoulders. ¡°I am sorry. I might have put you through a bit too much again today. Things should taper off from now on, I promise. Safety was simply a priority. With this, we have mitigated a lot of risks, and we can focus more on your needs.¡±

    Safety? Her needs? Why me? What kind of man could wield all this wealth and power and still need her?

    She felt the cabin shift and the white cylinders outside made noise, actually they were now black for some reason, the whole ship outside was black. She swore it had been white, but could she trust what she saw anymore, the glass window in the floor revealed the ground pulling further away. It cast off rapidly, and soon the field was just a lighter shade of dark next to the surrounding trees. Then she lost the area all together amongst mottled greys and blacks of the broader landscape. A shimmer of light from the smaller moon, Yil, cast wondrous glimmers on lakes and rivers, like black jewels across the face of the dark earth. Even as Keya gazed, she began to cry softly, feeling joy and simultaneous denial for the absolute majesty of the vision before her.

    A sight few had likely ever seen. Nay, as they climbed even higher and a far off sea sparkled in the distance, it was a view not meant for any eyes. Perhaps she had died, perchance she lay dreaming in her hut in Ravis, with Ralfen still alive.

    But, oh what a wondrous dream this was. This image of the world so high above, as if Keya could cradle it in bony hands. Its lakes, rivers, and shores like pieces in a toy set: pristine and peaceful. She seared it all into her mind such that she would never forget and tears rolled down her cheeks as the lids felt heavy. Keya drifted off to sleep.

 4.1 The Morning After

    Keya awoke still in her seat. Brilliant light streamed in through the windows, and the idyllic greens, oranges, and blues of the landscape below resembled a bejewelled rug below the transparent floor. Keya gasped again recalling where she was. The fantasy continues.

    ¡°Morning, Goldilocks!¡± Jon sat cross-legged upon the circular window cradling a large bowl of porridge. He spoke between mouthfuls. ¡°I¡¯ll serve ya some mielie pap now-now. How d¡¯you sleep?¡± He ate from a flawlessly formed glass bowl: not a single bubble or crack in its lustre. The container held a creamy white mush, perhaps like flour but with a rougher grain. It steamed succulent and buttery sweet in the cabin.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Her mind was not yet wholly present.

    ¡°Yeah, aeroplane seats: not ideal. Took the liberty of reclining it, removed your boots, and gave you that blanket. I considered moving you to your bed, but that¡¯d be kinda weird. I ain¡¯t your daddy, and here was safe enough.¡±

    That explained some discontinuities, but she was far from trusting all her senses just yet. ¡°Death or dream? Death or dream?¡± She mumbled to herself still half-conscious, her eyes drifting across the land below.

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°I am contemplating my reality, Master.¡±

    ¡°First thing in the morning? As good a time as any I s''pose. Got you presents!¡± He scooped another mouthful and gestured to items with his silver spoon. The man insisted it was just steel that did not rust. Whether that was more or less valuable than silver, she was unsure. Strewn on the deck between them were three bundles.

    Keya fumbled with the seat belt and eventually extricated herself. She had no idea how to right the chair vertically so instead moved to an adjacent seat. Shaking herself, she tried to compose her mind. Thoughts and visions from the night before had stirred up many things within her. Even now she felt the once tranquil steam of her mind was muddled. Her thinking felt murky as if the silt had yet to resettle. Sleep had made her thoughts a degree more limpid, so she pushed on to articulate concerns she wished to air.

    Opening her mouth, she stopped. The elevation was wrong. Jon looked for all the world like a child staring up at his mother, as she recounted a fireside tale. Even supplication and deference toward this man was a daily struggle! She slid from her seat into a formal kneel. At the very least his casual demeanour indicated his station if elevation could not.

    ¡°Master, there is something I must clarify. Next to your sagacity, I may seem foolish, but I suppose that hardly matters. You let me into your home, provide food, clothes, and lodging, and now this. Whatever these gifts are, I am sure they are priceless treasures that I could never hope to repay. Already, I am indebted beyond comprehension.¡± Stopping to form the question better, she gazed upon the miracle of flight before her eyes. ¡°What am I to you?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­¡± Shovelling another spoonful, he pensively chewed.

    ¡°This treatment you give a stranger¡­ I am but a simple village maid. Either I am to be your indentured servant or concubine, which is it?¡±

    ¡°Fuuck, those are my options?¡±

    ¡°I am serious, Kel-sun! Debts must be paid, that is the law of the land. I am a penniless peasant. I cannot hope to repay the wealth you have bestowed upon me. These clothes and boots alone are worth a year¡¯s wages, so I must know! What is the price?¡±

    Master furrowed his brow; it appeared he grasped the gravity of her quandary. ¡°I see your issue: The golden rule¡ªreciprocity. You fear you''re making a bargain you are not aware of. I get it.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I wish to know the full extent of the payment you will demand from me. However horrid a price, I might still pay it. The unimaginable wonders I have been privy to thus far, I¡ªmany would pay with blood, gold, and their lives just to behold a faction of it.¡± She found his sea-blue eyes and burrowed her stare into them. ¡°What is the price? What is your price?¡±

    ¡°Jesus! It¡¯s like nine a.m., and we¡¯re already talking about fucking sex-slaves. You don¡¯t let up, do you!¡± He broke her stare and rocked back another spoonful in his mouth. ¡°Fine, let¡¯s talk shop.¡± His expression went hard. ¡°My world has stringent rules against slavery of any kind. We abolished it a few hundred years ago. If you wanna talk taboo, that¡¯s very fucking taboo. All people have inalienable rights, and that definitely extends to you. Meaning our world grants each person privileges from birth that no government, kingdom, or court of law can strip them of. Are you with me so far?¡± It sounded impossible to believe.

    ¡°If I catch your meaning, slavery is unlawful in your land?¡± Keya said.

    ¡°Yeah, pretty much. So point one, you ain¡¯t paying with your body or your life. In fact, access to clean drinking water, food, electricity, sanitation, Internet, and shelter are all human rights. I¡¯m not treating you special. If a guest came over to stay at my house, I would give them the same. Be they kings, paupers, or prisoners.

    ¡°You have no point of reference for the world I come from so you¡¯d probably think it unbelievable.¡±

    She vigorously nodded.

    ¡°You see these things around you and think: ¡®This is amazing. I am blessed.¡¯ I see all the things your world lacks compared to mine and think: ¡®This is tragic.¡¯ I am not here to give you a life of comfortable servitude. I am the vanguard and emissary of the greater universe. The endgame here involves elevating your entire world, every man, woman, and child, maybe even goblin, to this!¡± Arms outstretched, he swept across everything around them.

    ¡°That is a foolish errand! They will knife you in your sleep and steal it before you can give it away.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry. We know our darker natures well. History has countless wars and tragedies to draw wisdom from. Frankly, we''re better at being bad than you; it just doesn¡¯t pay in the long run. Much in the same way being good all the time doesn¡¯t pay either.¡± He gazed out the windows beyond her. ¡°Now you know some of the ¡®why.¡¯ The ¡®how¡¯ will become more evident in time, or more correctly ¡®if.¡¯

    ¡°That¡¯s where you and I come in. You see the gates to my world are sealed shut. I step through to judge the lay of the land, and if your world is deemed amenable, then the doors are opened, and we establish treaties and trade. If not¡­¡± He made a thumbs down gesture, spoon still in hand, ¡°condemnation. Your world is sealed off, maybe for a long time, maybe forever.

    ¡°So what does all of this mean to you? Well, your riches are meaningless to us, there are entire worlds we could mine bare of gold, silver and a myriad of other metals you¡¯ve never even heard of. We have whole planets dedicated to agriculture and husbandry. Your kingdoms are trivial, their armies insignificant. We want what is irreplaceable, and what do you think that is?¡±

    ¡°If you speak truly, then I cannot even begin to imagine.¡± This new side to Master was terrifying; there was an abyssal depth in his eyes. Such a massive empire beggared belief.

    ¡°How much do you think a single map of your planet would go for?¡± Twirling a finger.

    ¡°Kingdoms would¡­¡± And then the pieces started to fall in place.

    ¡°Ja, a king¡¯s ransom, right? Who do you suppose helped me put our current map into perspective only yesterday?¡±

    ¡°A minuscule contribution!¡±

    ¡°An irreplaceable one. I could¡¯ve mapped for months before I knew where I was. Next, how much do you think a bestiary of local fauna and flora would go for? How about knowledge of dragons? What about culture and history? Data, knowledge, and understanding: non-fungible resources.¡± He enumerated on his fingers.

    ¡°Anyone could have given you this information!¡±

    ¡°No, not just anyone. What we need, what I needed, was someone. And that someone is you! The one who chose the red pill, the one who survived goblins, direwolves and the death of their only family. Someone who stepped forth through a strange gateway with a strange man. We have a saying perhaps you know it: ¡®Knowledge is power,¡¯ and as such it¡¯s valuable.

    ¡°The truth is Keya you don¡¯t owe me anything, and you never will. Save for the burdens and debts you choose; you are free. If anything I may owe you. But if you care about debt¡­¡± He levelled his eyes at her ¡°¡­you owe it to this world so that other young boys and girls might eventually see the wonders you have. That is your burden should you choose to shoulder it, or cast it aside.¡±

    He looked down at his bowl. ¡°Damn it, the porridge is cold, one sec I¡¯ll go microwave it.¡±

    She stopped him before he made it through the silver ring. ¡°Do you swear upon the Gods this is true?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe in any gods, so take it for what it¡¯s worth, but yes I swear it¡¯s the truth. On my honour, I swear you will be adequately compensated for your work. You are a diver like me now; we are equal. Oh, and have this¡­¡± He walked back, pulling a small polished card from his pocket. ¡°You are officially recognised as a citizen of the 37-72 branch and are granted the formal title of Diver in Training.¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    She saw the same little painting of her in one corner and various numbers and words on the rest of the polished card, including her full name. She was born on the full moon of Yen in late spring, so the birth date was indiscernable, but she had the measure of it. ¡°You would grant me citizenship already!¡±

    ¡°Of course, but this also serves as proof. Look, here¡¯s mine.¡± He withdrew his card of identic artifice, more worn with time. ¡°Your rights under the multiverse constitution are assured.¡±

    Keya slowly found her seat as Jon attended to his errand. She beheld the card and the promise it stood for, contemplating all their deliberations. Perhaps a lie, but it was a weak one. Something easy to test, and hadn¡¯t Master told never to trust completely. To always doubt and take knowledge as provisional.

    So she would do just that. If she were a kept woman rather than his equal, and free, then he would be unwilling to grant specific requests. There was unlikely to be any decadence beyond his grasp, and she was, after all, an unsophisticated village girl. Such demands would tell her little of the man.

    No, what he would not do, or would not risk is take her to where he might be powerless, and she could leave of her own accord. With that in mind, she formed a plan.

    On his return, she felt far greater certitude and began her gambit. He resumed his cross-legged seating on the floor, the ¡®gifts¡¯ still untouched.

    ¡°So, can I start prezzie time now?¡±

    ¡°Master, I have a request?¡± She knelt before him again.

    ¡°Shoot.¡± He shovelled more porridge.

    ¡°I assume from your tone, that is an affirmative?¡±

    Nonchalant nods returned.

    ¡°I would implore you to take me to my homeland and the city of Elgelica. It is across the Elgen Channel; I assume in this flying ship such a voyage is easily chartable?¡±

    ¡°Awesome, a destination. We¡¯ve been idling around since lift-off, with you asleep n¡¯ all. You identified it on the map yesterday, right? Elves in London! That¡¯ll be a sight. Evy, set our course for place-marker Elgelica, full speed ahead.¡±

    ¡°Destination set to Elgelica. ETA 3 hours 20 minutes¡± Came the familiar impassive female voice from the ship.

    ¡°You were waiting for me to set our bearing? Wait? Did the elemental just say three hours!¡±

    ¡°Uh, which question you want answered first?¡± Jon was scrapping his bowl clean, the clink of his silverware rang about the cabin.

    ¡°That is unthinkably fast, even on horseback!¡±

    ¡°It will be instant when we have a rift set up there. Still, I get your drift. Flight is super convenient, even slow flight like this.¡±

    And he has the gall to call it slow! The barrels attached to the outside made more noise. They pointed lengthwise rather than up compared to the previous eve. Outside, the hull was also unmistakably pale blue, instead of black or white.

    Jon continued. ¡°No mountains, rivers or forests in the way, you can just make a bee-line,¡± he paused. ¡°Ya know, I never understood that phrase, bees don¡¯t fly straight.¡±

    ¡°Why is the ship a different colour every time I look? Gods, am I crazed?¡±

    ¡°Hmm, about that, we¡¯re 6k up but still pretty easy to see given our size. So, the ship¡¯s surface is covered with a thin film of e-ink. It does black, white, and blue plus every shade in between. If you¡¯re looking you might find us, but the sky is big and who looks up much anyway. Tinted windows take care of cabin light at night. As I said, this thing mitigates a lot of risks. Worth every gram of gold I paid. Well, it¡¯s almost paid.¡±

    Keya asked. ¡°So to be clear, I am in an invisible, flying ship, moving as the crow flies, faster than the wind, toward Elgelica. Furthermore, we will reach my ancestral home before lunch?¡± Master looked at his wrist, glinting with a bejewelled bracelet she had not seen before.

    ¡°A little after lunch.¡± Well, it appeared her tests would proceed more rapidly than anticipated. No matter, if this ship indeed flew and she wasn¡¯t confounded by magic then stepping foot in Elgelica would put many uncertainties to rest.

    ¡°Very well, Master, show me what gifts you¡¯ve brought.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been over this ¡®Master¡¯ thing, haven¡¯t we?¡± He placed his bowl on a seat and mercifully found one himself.

    ¡°I shall call you what I like in private company, ¡®Master¡¯.¡± This too was a test.

    ¡°Savage!¡± Rang Lee¡¯s voice in the ship.

    ¡°Lee, you keep this quiet you hear me!¡±

    ¡°Oh, my lips are sealed ¡®Master¡¯!¡± His cackle bellowed, before abruptly being cut short.

    ¡°You see. This is why we can¡¯t have nice things. Your loudspeaker privileges are revoked!¡±

    ¡°Shall that be a problem, Master?¡± Jon focused back on her.

    ¡°Fuck, fine, call me what you like. But if we¡¯re incognito planet-side, then I¡¯ll be depending on your subtlety. Is that fair?¡±

    ¡°Quite.¡±

    ¡°Okie dokie,¡± He rubbed his hands together ¡°Prezzie time!¡± Reaching for the first package, it, like all the bundles, was wrapped in a thin translucent sack. A fabric she recalled first seeing in the larder, one of the multitudinous things she had never seen before meeting him. Doubtless, there would be endless more. It shimmered and crinkled in her hand, both flimsy to handle but hard to tear.

    ¡°Open it,¡± said Master.

    She found the opening and pulled the bundle out. They were multiple sets of identical grey and black clothing to be sure, but the shape of two rounded cups on each set left little to the imagination.

    ¡°Oh, Master, it appears a concubine was not far off the mark!¡± Did he wish she dance for him in these? Though she had to admit they did look as though they could be quite comfortable.

    ¡°Please for the love of all that is good and holy do not use ¡®master¡¯ and ¡®concubine¡¯ in the same goddamn sentence. They¡¯re sports bras with matching underwear. Evy got your size with the medical body scans. Had I known you¡¯d pull this sex-slave crap with me; I might¡¯ve let you go rough rider for a while longer.¡± He glanced down and shook his head. ¡°To be clear, you wear this UNDER your clothes, and if you decide to dance half-naked outside your room, it¡¯s totally on you. Also please give me fair warning so I can GTFO.¡±

    ¡°Is that an invitation?¡± The gift was somewhat puzzling and did not strengthen his case, and yet he had proceeded regardless.

    ¡°Consent works both ways, Ms Ces. You ask for my permission, and I¡¯ll ask for yours. But walk round base in your birthday suit, and I¡¯m not shielding my eyes. FYI aside from the ears, there¡¯s nothing I haven¡¯t seen. Gesturing with the spoon. Plus, I¡¯ll bet you dance like a turkey.¡±

    ¡°A turkey?¡± Keya asked.

    ¡°A big chicken.¡±

    ¡°You horrible man!¡±

    ¡°Uh-uh, just try them on, show me nothing, and thank me later. Honestly, it¡¯s like no good deed goes unpunished with you. Not another peep and tell me when you want to order more; then I¡¯ll know I¡¯ve won.¡± Keya smiled mischievously but refrained from teasing him more. Clothes were clothes after all, and with all the fabrics she had felt thus far she was quite curious.

    ¡°Well then thank you, Master, for your¡­ thoughtful gift. What else do you have for me?¡±

    ¡°Thank fuck that¡¯s over, here.¡± He unceremoniously pulled an item from a bigger sack. Though the colours and materials were unique, the shape was unmistakable. She eagerly stood to receive it.

    ¡°This is a bow!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, a recurve bow to be precise. Give it a pull; let¡¯s see if the draw strength is alright.¡± Pulling the string, she found it to be a little stiff, but she would grow into it.

    ¡°Remarkable Master! It is just right I think, and the workmanship, as with all your wares, is sublime.¡± She had seen many things new, but having a tool she understood from his world truly helped her grasp the height of their technical prowess. Her old longbow quailed compared to this. It¡¯s smooth contours perfectly matched her grip, and an unmistakable notch belied where the arrow would rest. A smile of rising excitement revealed her desire to test it as soon as she could.

    ¡°You can give it a spin on the test range later, along with¡­¡± He pulled another thing from the large sack. ¡°¡­this.¡± She felt her eyes widen and almost dropped the first prize. Doubtless, the order was intentional. Had he not shown the recurve bow first, she might not have realised what it was.

    ¡°It is also a bow, yes?¡±

    ¡°Very good, it¡¯s a modern bow from my world. Recurves you might see here and there in your world; of course, our material science and fabrication is more advanced. But this is a compound bow; your world has likely never seen anything like it!¡±

    Before her eyes was a matte black frame of exquisite intricacy. It floated in her hands lighter than any wood, with crisscrossing beams and cross-woven gut in ways that were not readily apparent. She felt herself almost unconsciously clasping the handle nestled in her left palm. The other bow was lain on a nearby seat practically forgotten. Pulling the string, it strained at first before slackening substantially at an extremely long full draw. She found herself appreciating the completely unobstructed path and placement for the arrow; the shaft would not wobble and flex in flight. Her eyes naturally sighted through a circular instrument with oddly luminous pins, sophisticated yet elegant.

    Any elf would intuitively understand the perfected craft of this bow. In the Fair Folk¡¯s hands, with their eyes, this artefact would make every shot flawless. She almost forgot she was still drawing back. At a whim, she extended her earth sense through it. More intricately bound and fastened parts than even sight could not manage, revealed themselves to her.

    ¡°This¡­ is art,¡± came her breathless response.

    ¡°That good, huh?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand, Master. To elves, a gifted bow is a right of passage, usually from elder to child¡ªa propitious and sacred event. Ralfen and I, however, shared no such illusions about our lot. My parents gone, no heirlooms or artisans were awaiting to gift me my first hunting bow. We bought it from a peddler passing by the village. It cost many pelts, and I cherished its gnarled and twisted form like a newborn child. You have given me not one but two priceless artefact bows from your world!

    ¡°There are once again, no words, no words to express my gratitude. Thank you, thank you, a thousand ¡®thank yous¡¯.¡± With the Compound bow at her side, she half knelt. Supplicated before him in a chamber above the world, she thanked him again in Elven. ¡°I hope to one day earn the honour you have bestowed upon me this hour. I make this pledge to the gods, in this sacred ship above the clouds. Master Jonathan Kelly of the Honourable Order of the Divers, I Keya Ces of no house nor family pledge my allegiance to you. May honour bind us, and may I be your bow.¡± She did not look up, and she dared not move. This covenant was both a test for him and an avowal of heartfelt gratitude from her. The pledge required his honour after all.

    Moments passed by and then Jon audibly exhaled. ¡°Okay Keya, if that¡¯s what you want then I accept your pledge."

    She raised her head and smiled.

    "I like the honour part it sounds reciprocal. Bound by honour then. You are my bow, and I am your¡­,¡± patting the spoon on his forehead, ¡°gonna have to figure that one out. Anyway, it¡¯s not like its legally binding or anything; you''re still free to do as you choose.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Master, I will bear that in mind.¡± She stood smiling. ¡°Now, you mentioned a shooting range¡­¡±

 4.2 Trials in Applied Magic

    Jon paraded out an almost endless supply of accessories and tools at the range. It was clear he enjoyed it as much as she did. Even so, it quickly became apparent that there was far too much to learn. She took care not to be overwhelmed. Days before, she would never think drowning in knowledge was possible. Oh, how naive that girl was.

    The recurve bow was tested first. Its elegant simplicity, at least relative to the compound bow, let Keya pull her eye in. After a few blissful rounds of that, she attempted the compound bow. Upon loosing the first arrow, it became clear. The spirit of compound bows differed from all that came before. Deceptively easy to use, but demanding of perfection in each release.

    Keya ignored frivolous parts to focus on its core functionality. She would take her time to memorise every hitch, beam, and creak as it bent to her will.

    ¡°Master? I cannot feel my magic anymore, it was present on the ship, but now I sense nothing. Are we perhaps magically shielded in your domain?¡±

    ¡°Oh! That¡¯s some extremely vital info gave me right there! No, we¡¯re not shielded; my ¡®domain¡¯ is in a world without magic, see. Well, your magic anyway. We are not in Kanzas anymore as it were. How were you using magic on the ship, might I ask?¡±

    ¡°I sensed the Earth form of the bow. ¡®Tis why I called it ¡®art¡¯. Looks aside, its Earthen feel was nothing short of miraculous. Grandpa spoke of greater Elven marksmen that might assist their pull, or guide their fletches as they shoot. I am barely a novice, but the feel of the bow alone can be indispensable.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll fucken bet it can! Your magic is starting to sound pretty epic.¡±

    She continued, ¡°Practice without magical assistance may still be useful, but your range in this subterrane is somewhat limited. Please take no offence, but a mere fifty paces or so and the ceiling, lofty as it is, make it less ideal for archery.¡±

    ¡°I hear ya; an FOB world-side is next on our list of priorities. I¡¯ll get you the space and time you need as soon as possible.¡±

    ¡°Foul Orcish Body?¡±

    ¡°Forward Operating Base.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    She did not. However, her Master appeared attentive and forward-thinking. She was sure he would give her the opportunities she desired in due time. Meanwhile, there were all manner of things to occupy her despite magical impotence. Remarkable and trumpeted as the bows were, the array of arrows on display boggled the senses.

    Shafts of black material she could not even begin to understand: ¡®Kabun¡¯ fibre he called it. Arrowheads, varied and razor-sharp, for innumerous uses. Keya was bestowed with her first codex of archery, detailing all she might wish to know. Each page contained pint-sized, prismatic paintings framed in writing. The burnished parchment was whiter than a swan¡¯s feather and smoother than polished stone. Truly, decadence swamped his world; his obliviousness as he dispensed treasure after treasure attested as much.

    Restraint was prescribed for the use of the stranger items ¡®world-side¡¯. The black arrows, in particular, were only to be used if essential. For all other times, the wood crafted shafts and natural colour fletches were to be favoured. It went without saying, but the wood arrows were no less masterpieces themselves.

    He left her to tinker and test as he attended to other matters. Cleaning and repairing a fan was cited, though why he would bother with such a frivolous trinket was beyond her. Fans were simple things of wood and cloth; why not just buy a new one? She recalled him asserting the airship used fans. Their application to the ship was not something she could envision, and presently she spared it scant attention.

    Instead, Keya gladly lost herself in the priceless opportunity before her. Served porridge went generally ignored on a nearby table. She shot until her fingers tired, read until recovered, and then shot again. Each breath and draw cherished as though it were the last. That is where Jon found her again after noon. Lounging with her back to the wall, she was tracing each contour of the compound bow in her lap. Hundreds of arrows lay downrange, and she would retrieve and catalogue each one carefully by and by.

    ¡°Good thing I led with the underwear. Doubt you¡¯d have even noticed anything else otherwise.¡±

    ¡°Ah, Master, forgive me, I was lost in reverie. Is there something you wish of me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve arrived?¡±

    ¡°Arrived?¡± She had utterly forgotten her request to go to Elgelica. ¡°Oh my, how the time flies!¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. Well come have a look, and we can discuss next steps.¡±

    She got up, and they moved down the colourfully furnished curved corridor of his home toward the travel room.

    Master spoke as they walked. ¡°So, I don¡¯t know why we¡¯re here, you share that, and we can work on a plan. What¡¯s the deal?¡±

    The thought of a believable motive left her stunned for a moment. It was astounding Jon would come all this way, without even asking for one. She set aside how that spoke of his trust in her, and considered the problem. The compound bow was still clutched in her grip as they strode, to feel it with magic again would be thrilling. Mulling ideas over she stroked a finger across its taut strings.

    ¡°I¡­ I wish to seek answers about the fate of my parents. Elgelica is the place of my birth, and if the note rings true, more clues will be there.¡± Half-truths were better than lies; better to pierce two hares with one shaft.

    ¡°Alright, where¡¯s your stuff?¡±

    ¡°My pack, with the note and book are still on the flying ship.¡±

    ¡°Cool.¡±

    They turned right off the passage, through a conjoining room, and into the portal area from whence she had first entered Master¡¯s abode. The central rift they mainly used stood seven feet tall, the most complex by far with an adjustable ramp and articulating orifice. Akin to the one in Jon¡¯s bag, but gilded and grand. The rest of the room sported various metal disks and rings of all sizes and orientations. They were arrayed on the walls, on the floor, hung loose, and even on the ceiling. This was the Rift Room. Although the underground keep, from Master¡¯s descriptions, used rifts elsewhere too; here was doubtless meant to be the main thoroughfare.

    They traipsed across the hole between worlds onto the ship, and for the nonce, Keya hardly broke her stride. The transition was seamless. She might think his manor afloat upon the sky, were it not memory said otherwise. A perverse sense of how the gateways worked had becalmed in her mind: a balance between lunacy and sanity. I was there, and now I¡¯m here; ¡®tis knowledge enough. The midday sun bore down upon the land, blazing with colour, while the cabin was in shadow, perfectly temperate and idyllic.

    ¡°What of the shadow of our ship, Master? Surely you cannot erase this too.¡±

    ¡°No, I can¡¯t, but the physics of optics are on our side. This high up, our shadow is mostly faded and blurred by the sun before reaching ground. Add to that our speed and constant motion; any shadow would be fleeting and impossible to anticipate. Still, perspective''s a bitch, someone looking could likely spot us from one angle or another. England is England, though. Plenty of clouds to hide us on most days.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Indeed, there was no shortage of clouds about and below them. Two words by which I never conceived to detail clouds. ¡°Erudite and cunning, as always, I see.¡±

    ¡°Why thank you, my dear.¡± He gave an exaggerated bow.

    Spying through the floor and dappled brume, a settlement of sorts nestled in a river bend. From this height, it was insignificant compared to the land. Whether it was indeed Elgelica, she would be none the wiser, being far too young when she left. Few had likely seen it from this vantage either, but the spires and edifices clamouring below the canopy of a towering forest were undeniably elven. Human settlements with their deforested hovels were utterly antithetical. True confirmation required she set foot inside their walls and converse with the people.

    ¡°How will we venture down? Do you plan to land at night?¡±

    ¡°Hell no, landing and lift-off are like the most vulnerable things you can do with a ship. Just watch every series and movie ever. We¡¯re porting in. The HAS will deploy a rift device from this altitude in a remote and hopefully discreet location outside the city. We will move through, secure the area and then begin infiltration.¡±

    ¡°So we will leave this ship aloft, travel by magic and enter the city on foot?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re getting good at this cliff-notes thing, keep it up!¡± He raised a thumb.

    Keya shook her head in acquiescence. Her pack was on a seat, and she retrieved the note. After rereading it, she passed it to Master.

    With a momentary glance, both front and back¡ªwhich was blank¡ªhe gave a single nod. ¡°Awesome, so we need a cover. Your name may tip off the wrong kind of attention. Got any ideas for a codename?¡±

    ¡°I need another name? Surely you jest, this is no tale of royalty and betrayal. I am no one.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­,¡± he said reading air with enchanted vision. How he managed without the visor, was perhaps an advanced technique. ¡°The note¡¯s highlighted keywords are ¡®bloodline¡¯, ¡®gift¡¯, ¡®curse¡¯ and of course there''s the mysterious blank book. I¡¯m pretty sure I know where this goes. Hand the book over will ya.¡± She retrieved the tome. Yesterday she thought it best that they were close at hand should she need to flee. A very long time ago.

    They stood centred in the airship. Book in hand, he paged casually before looking up. ¡°Your magic, can you feel it now?¡± Her compound bow was still with her, and she found senses effortlessly extend into its frame the moment she tried.

    ¡°Yes! And might I say once more this bow-¡±

    ¡°Ja, ja, ja, it¡¯s amazing. I¡¯m a super cool dude. I get it. Now focus on this book.¡± Frowning at his curt manner, she did as commanded.¡± The book was there, it¡¯s dry pages, and wood binding beneath aged leather was all unremarkable.

    ¡°It is a book; there is nothing particular about it.¡±

    ¡°Yes, there is, there always is. Focus on the pages; there¡¯s writing there, trust me.¡±

    Again, mildly frustrated, she felt with her magic at his currently open page. Nothing untoward appeared, but it did feel dirty as though begrimed with something she could not quite make out. ¡°There is nothing, but the page is quite dirty.¡±

    He turned the pages to her: a little yellowed but most unequivocally blank. Not nearly as besmeared to the eye. Strange.

    ¡°Very interesting, dirty, but clean. Can you identify the ¡®dirt¡¯?¡± Asked Master.

    ¡°I am trying, but it appears to be resisting me. I would not believe such a thing possible were I not experiencing it first hand. It is almost as if shielded like living things.¡±

    ¡°Maybe it is.¡±

    That was preposterous. ¡°Do not be silly Master; there is nothing alive in that tome!¡±

    ¡°What were your affinities again?¡±

    ¡°Earth and Water, very weak in each,¡± said Keya.

    ¡°And... how are you looking at this book?¡±

    ¡°With Earthen sight, of course. I seldom use Water; its use is rather narrow on land.¡± Or bestriding the heavens.

    ¡°Okay, try Water.¡±

    ¡°That would be completely pointless!¡±

    ¡°Humor me,¡± said Jon.

    Sighing, she attempted it nevertheless. The book was naturally nowhere to be found, for it contained no water. But queerly, the dirt from the pages once more emerged from the void, only to resist her prodding. That she could sense it at all was bizarre. With the absence of the Earth sense, the oddity of the smears became all the more striking.

    Jon spoke. ¡°If your expression is anything to go by, you¡¯ve found something odd, right?¡±

    ¡°It is indeed strange, Master. Though the book is most certainly Earth, there should be no water about, and yet I sense something on the page though it resists me still. Whatever its secrets, perhaps I am not ready.¡±

    ¡°You mentioned that great mages are those with a single affinity; hence, purity is best. That''s the prevailing wisdom?¡±

    ¡°Yes, you have the right of it. Single element mages are the strongest.¡±

    ¡°And you believe them? Where is all that doubt when you need it most?¡±

    ¡°Only fools or someone as mad as Master would depart from knowledge of ages past.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s try one more test. Find the ¡®dirt¡¯, as you describe it, with Earth and then simultaneously find it with Water.¡±

    ¡°That is insanity, Master; the elements are to be kept separate and pure to avoid corruption. No mixed magic could ever work properly!¡±

    ¡°I realise I might be dealing with a... philosophical departure from established spiritual truths. So please grant this godless man your patience for the moment. The world is not as you know it; everything is a mix of everything else. Nothing is separate; nothing is pure; it all exists on a continuum of transient states from one form to the next. With that in mind and us bound by ¡®honour¡¯ as you said. Please trust me and give it a try.¡±

    That he would call on her pledge so soon, made her feel just a little irritated with the rascal; but the softness in his eyes quickly allayed that discomfort. She would entertain this pointless test if for no other reason than to prove him wrong.

    ¡°Very well, by my pledge, I shall try.¡± At first, with Earth, she found those smears. Then, with Water, she tried reaching too. The task proved profusely difficult, failing several times to hold both senses out at once. Like prodding leaves on the surface of a lake, they repelled one another. ¡°This is impracticable, Master,¡± Her voice strained. ¡°The elements themselves fight for the same space!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t force it; think of them as... one new element. Aspects of both, but not quite being either. Forget starting with Earth, just reach out with nothing and everything. See what you find.¡±

    ¡°Again with your damned riddles!¡± Her teeth gritted, and then it gave way like shattering ice and plunging to the water below! Immersed in every page, she felt a comforting scrawl there: writing, neither Earth nor Water. Keya felt other things too. An oasis for her magic was nearby.

    ¡°Oh my!¡± said Keya. A hand was on a page, beating and warm, connected to an arm and a shoulder. She followed it up, knowing what it was but scarcely believing it: Skin, muscle, tendons and bone. She saw, nay felt, it as if it were her very own limb, a third one.

    ¡°Keya dear, that¡¯s very nice and all, but can I have my arm back?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± What did he mean? His arm was right there holding the book; she could sense it quite clearly, and then it dawned on her. The shock pulled her right back out. She opened her eyes in abject fear as Jon dropped the book.

    ¡°Oh, Master! I am so sorry! This is sacrilege. What I have done, not even the Gods can forgive! Truly I have transgressed this day!¡± Tears streamed down her face, as on weak knees, she staggered.

    Jon said nothing, merely crouching down and retrieving the book. Then he approached even as she backed away. Mercy and contrition were writ large upon his visage.

    I have failed the test. Heretic. Keya had done something impossible, unthinkable, and wrong: violated the boundaries protecting life.

    Now I must pay. Shall I be cast out? Not before the pillory and the whip, I think. Would he be so merciful? Would her life be enough she wondered? Or would they purge the village too? And what would become of Kel-sun, even if he punished her justly, his name would forever be tainted. She was sorry, she was so, so, sorry. Gods forgive her!

    Please punish only me!

    ¡°¡ªKEYA, FUCKEN LISTEN TO ME!¡± Jon was shaking her shoulders; she didn¡¯t quite know for how long.

    ¡°I¡­ wha¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh good, you¡¯re finally back. Shit, don¡¯t freak out like that! That was amazing! Granted, I expected as much.¡±

    ¡°You expected¡­¡± How?

    ¡°Blood magic maybe, or is it Life magic? We¡¯ll figure out naming conventions later. You did good kid. Here sit down. You¡¯re shaking like a wet mutt.¡± He guided her to a seat.

    ¡°Master, this is wrong, don¡¯t you see! Life is protected and shielded as deemed by the Gods. I have done a bad thing. I-¡± She clawed at his shirt.

    ¡°Not even close, or else why''d your parents give ya that book? Look, the words are visible now. Elven, of course.¡±

    She saw the previously barren pages populated with elegant green chirography.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a curse. You are not in trouble. You¡¯re safe. Look about; the world goes on uncaring.¡±

    As commanded, she gazed furtively beyond them. Presently, it appeared Master was right. Keya sniffed a little and regained composure. ¡°If you are unharmed, then that is good for the moment.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s friggin epic, that¡¯s what it is. You¡¯re a badass, a powerful and unique magic-user. Just what the team needs.¡±

    ¡°You do not fully understand the gravity of what you say¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, you don¡¯t fully understand the gravity. You¡¯re amazingly cool. An honest to god Life-magic wielding Elf! Do you know the fan fiction that¡¯s gonna be written about you? On second thought, forget that part, ignorance is bliss.¡±

    He slapped her on the shoulder.

    ¡°Go wash up, rest, and read that damn book. My Bunker has magic shielding remember? You¡¯ll be safe.¡± He winked.

    With that, she shuffled back to the sanctuary, emotions raw once more. In such a daze, she graciously accepted any guidance to pacify her thoughts.

 4.3 Acclimation

    Jonathan was under the weather. After guiding the distraught poor girl to her room, he returned to the HAS and set its course to map the English countryside. Infiltrating Elgelica was never gonna be a one day mission anyways.

    With the HAS always being on the move, it reduced discovery, or at the very least repeated detection. The airship would also automatically release sensor balloons from now on. A rift interposed between solar panels on top of the envelope was for just that purpose. An expensive little piece of pressure-sealed, auto-deploying kit inflated and released the scout blimps, but data was money, and it paid the bills. The sensor balloons would only be released at night, lacking the stealth capabilities of the HAS, they made up for that by being smaller and floating 20 kilometres above the planet¡¯s surface, right at the Armstrong Limit.

    The HAS flew itself unless otherwise told. Auto-pilot for heavier-than-air vehicles was already old hat at this point. In comparison, airships and blimps were child¡¯s play, and it would hardly ever land to boot. A piece of rope tied to the wheel could do the job, mostly.

    As such mapping and flight were entirely humanless activities from here on out, the network coverage was simply a matter of time.

    In practice, if they cleared quarantine, satellites replaced balloons long before the job was done.

    That was a big ''if'' now; Keya, the cute Elf, had done something to him. Aside from puppeteering his arm that is, coz that was awesome. Like astronauts trained to detect oxygen deprivation, Divers paid particular attention to feedback from their bodies. And his senses were feeling off, nothing earth-shattering but tangible. It also helped that the medical implants¡ªdesigned for precisely this¡ªshowed elevated blood pressure and the beginnings of a fever.

    ¡°Lee, prep the medbay, I need an acclimation check-up. I¡¯ve come down with something, and it¡¯s probably not a coincidence.¡±

    ¡°Got it, boss.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    He circled to what Kay had dubbed ¡®the white room.¡¯ She was a sly schemer just like him; he could tell. That was perfectly fine in his book; the last thing he wanted was an easily trusting agent. A small-town girl growing up in that village was bound to have developed street smarts. Add the tutelage of the Old man, and she was a diamond in the rough.

    She obviously had some play with Elgelica, and the pitch to bind him with honour was a good strat, as honest as it was savvy. No matter where he went some things always held true: trust can not be bought, certainly not the trust he needed.

    That said, Kay was a good kid, the kind reality ate up and shat out. He¡¯d do his damnedest to avoid such conclusions if he could. To that end, his shit was his shit. He wouldn¡¯t burden her with the lab mouse experiment he signed up for; that was on him. She had her own mountains to climb. Later, when she found her feet, she could pitch in. Right now was his turn.

    The sensations had started in his arm, just after Kay had graciously given control back to him. The connection was hard to deny. But, trigger events did not preclude multi-factor causation.

    He found the medbay, and locked the door from inside, drawing the shades closed so as not to be disturbed.

    ¡°Lee, guide Kay to some leftovers or a frozen dinner if she comes out her room. Keep her off me, for her sake, okay?¡±

    ¡°You got it cunt; I know the drill. Get in that capsule, so we got you covered if shit goes sideways.¡±

    At the back of the room, there was a bed fully encapsulated in a cylindrical tube. Robotic arms and the like were housed where they could reach any body part. Jon stripped and lay down inside; the perspex door slid shut and sealed. It was airtight, making respiration and aerosol delivered medicine all effectively controllable.

    Everything could and would be automatically tested. Although, Jon was definitely not fucking about with a catheter. Instead, he¡¯d have to get up, where an exclusive lavatory in the medbay could test and catalogue to its heart''s content.

    He didn¡¯t feel that bad in truth. The sensations hadn¡¯t ceased as he crossed back through the Rift. That meant whatever process had begun was at least partly independent of the bullshit magic on the other side. Was that good or bad? Fuck, if he knew. But it was happening, and the capsule along with the implants, would document every hopefully painless and non-lethal step.

    A metal appendage came down to clamp his arm and take blood. He let Evy and Lee take the wheel. This was the job; these were the risks. Now was his turn to trust. Kay had the gist of it; they were all bound one way or another. He settled in to get some rest, babysitting an elf these last few days had cut into his beauty sleep after all.

 5.1 Baby Steps at Breakfast

    The fever passed in the night.

    When Jon came to, it was due to a particular elf calling ¡®Master¡¯ out in the hall.

    ¡°Ah fuck Lee, you had one job!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s 9:30 in the morning! Wake up ya sleepy bitch!¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the prognosis Doc? Is it cancer?¡±

    ¡°Pretty shit actually, looks like ya gonna grow old, get a pension, and go senile.¡±

    ¡°Wow, that bad, huh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, some run of the mill viral phage had her way with you last night. Those bitches are a dime a dozen says Medical. Every sewerage pipe and toilet floats its own unique soup. Didn¡¯t even leave her number, looks like. Just check if you have an overnight six-pack or extra muscle definition.¡±

    ¡°Just what I earned I¡¯m afraid.¡± He glanced anyway to make sure his gains weren¡¯t slipping.

    ¡°Aw shit, best you try climbing the walls then. You know, just to be sure, for science an¡¯ all.¡±

    ¡°It was an Elf, not a spider.¡± He opened the capsule and swung his legs out not feeling much worse for wear.

    ¡°Good point that. Check your ears, are they more pointy? Feel any pressing desire to sleep with a bow perhaps?¡±

    ¡°None as such Dr Lee. I assume my blood work is adequately documented?¡± He stepped out and started to dress.

    ¡°Ya fucking got that right. Best get those critters on ice properly sampled too. Got some whitecoats this side chomping at the bit for more genomes.¡±

    ¡°I was gonna get to that before¡­.¡±

    ¡°You sure ya don¡¯t wanna try latching onto the ceiling? Evy¡¯s got the camera ready. If ya fall off, I promise only to laugh a lot.¡±

    ¡°Very considerate of you, Lee. I shall have to decline this time.¡±

    ¡°No worries mate. Got your back all the same.¡±

    There it was, the nugget of gold in all the bullshit. The reason Lee was the best damn Handler this side of the multiverse. Shit talker deluxe, but one hundred per cent heart.

    ¡°I know you do, mate.¡± Jon finished off and composed himself to meet the day and a certain girl who refused to shut up in the hall outside.

    In the kitchen, those sharp green eyes narrowed suspiciously at him while he prepared breakfast.

    ¡°Are you trying to nail me to the wall with your stare? Jeez, breakfast is coming, chillax.¡±

    ¡°I am no fool, Master,¡±

    ¡°So you keep saying.¡±

    She continued unperturbed, but with an eyebrow raised. Jon was sure to pay for that one later.

    ¡°The White Room, discomforting as it is, was evidently built for a singular purpose.¡±

    ¡°Is that so?¡± He played innocent, ¡°What do you suppose it is?¡± Chicken salad was today¡¯s menu; he pulled out the cutting board and a knife.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°You are usually not this evasive, Kel-sun. Knowledge is normally dispensed from you like the font of a mountain spring. I will leave the matter for now. You doubtless have your reasons.¡±

    ¡°Very kind of you, Kay. So¡­ you look a kak-ton better since yesterday. How do you feel?¡±

    ¡°You do not already know? If you said mind reading and soothsaying were part of your litany of powers, I would believe without comment.¡±

    ¡°You not commenting would be miraculous! But jokes aside, I¡¯m here for ya. We¡¯ll walk this path together; you have my word on that.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Master, that is more reassuring than you may know.¡± Keya sipped her coffee. ¡°I am indeed much recovered since the events of yesterday. At first, there was much fear. The dread of the unknown clutched at my heart. You wrested me from such torments, and rightly so. The shielding of your abode, once irksome, is now a sanctuary. Further, Lee provided wise counsel on venting my vexations at the shooting range.¡±

    ¡°Hear that? I¡¯m wise.¡±

    Jon muted chat and mumbled, ¡°You weren¡¯t kidding about the bow.¡±

    ¡°What was that, Master?¡±

    ¡°Uh, nevermind.¡±

    ¡°As I said, archery and magical impotence were welcome reprieves. Regarding the gifts, might I request racks for bows in my quarters? Also, a bookshelf that I might stow Grandpas tomes along with new ones. Your library is of course more than adequate, but I would have his books close in remembrance.¡±

    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll get your old shelf from storage.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes, we absconded with well-nigh all of my household. Slipped my mind.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll get your stuff, and sort your room out today.¡±

    ¡°Many thanks, Master. To continue, I did as you bade and read the tome when sufficiently fortified of mind. This power is named Nature Magic by the writer. Ostensibly, not all mages are as¡­ rigid with separation of magics as I believed. It mentions how life shields itself from control. The book was intended to be easily breached by a novice. Your body, however, should have been impossible to pierce for one such as I. And certainly not without your willingness.¡±

    ¡°Life Magic. That¡¯s what we¡¯re calling it. ''Nature'' is too broad.¡±

    ¡°The book clearly says-¡±

    ¡°Life Magic. Good talk.¡±

    Kay simply expelled a heavy sigh hanging her head.

    ¡°Hmm, we¡¯ll have to do more magical testing and practice it seems.¡±

    ¡°Master, despite my calm, I am hesitant to attempt more. Frankly, it still frightens me. Had I not taken your ¡®Red Pill¡¯, I very much doubt I¡¯d have had the strength to regain composure. It likely awakened my powers as well.¡±

    ¡°Riiight, the pill. Bout that Kay. It¡¯s best, we clear up some confusion surrounding the consumption of my magical medicant.¡± He reached for two white plastic jars in a top cupboard. Unscrewing the lids revealed both red and blue pills in copious supply. Leisurely, he removed one of each colour and knocked them back with a gulp of coffee.

    ¡°You took both blue and red together! Is that not dangerous?¡±

    ¡°The pills are identical; they¡¯re just dyed capsules of fish oil. Healthy? Sure. Magical? Not even a little. The magic happens with the ¡®belief¡¯ they do something. I have found that giving newcomers the conviction they are protected, that their minds are fortified, helps them handle the culture shock of seeing and experiencing all you have.¡±

    ¡°It did nothing! That cannot be! There is no way I could have handled the maddening trials of mind these past few days without it! I¡¯ve only barely clung to sanity since rising in the airship.¡±

    ¡°And yet, you have. That is the power of placebo. The belief itself is enough to provide real effects when needed, especially of the psychological kind. It¡¯s not a panacea, but for an innocent village girl embarking on a mind-bending adventure, its the perfect solution!¡±

    Kay¡¯s familiar incredulous frown did not subside. ¡°Do you recall how your first portal with the wolves affected me? How could you claim your pill does nothing?¡±

    ¡°Exposure to new ideas and things normalises them over time. Cushioning the initial shock is all that¡¯s required. The mind is a resilient thing; it grows and adapts very quickly if you let it.¡±

    ¡°A complete deception!¡± Rocking back on her stool aghast. ¡°You are an extremely cunning liar, Master! What other deceptions have you yet to reveal?¡±

    ¡°Well, I did tell you not to believe me blindly.¡±

    ¡°That you did, Master, that you did. Though how could I have anticipated you meant to doubt so far back.¡± Kay shook her head vigorously.

    ¡°You did it through your own power and strength of will. That¡¯s the lesson here. And free thinking is a way of life; it extends all the way back to long before Gavin or I ever met you. The ancient wisdom of your mages is as applicable as anything I say, or you read. No one has the full picture, and everyone makes mistakes.¡±

    ¡°Oh, Master! You make me cry, laugh and everything in between. What is in store for us this day?! Travel to the moon, perhaps? Meeting Merfolk under the sea?¡±

    ¡°Jules Verne, huh?¡±

    ¡°I do not know of whom or what you speak.¡±

    ¡°Of course not. First is chicken salad. Then we¡¯ll get to the fun stuff.¡±

    ¡°I shudder to think, Kel-sun.¡±

 5.2 A Mage is Born

    Jon stepped through the rift onto the airship. It was a purposeful and steady stride. Earlier, when he woke inside the bunker, nothing appeared to be different. Even the sensations from the day before were absent, though that could have been normal sensitivity accompanying an illness. Keya remained behind: a deer in the headlights. He left her there for the moment.

    A new feeling emerged the instant he was through. Easy to ignore if you weren¡¯t looking for it. The world had a slight tint to it as though he was picking up slightly more than he could normally see. It was quite tricky to focus directly on it, as though it shifted away from his mind but always played at the edges of his consciousness.

    ¡°Lee, beginning self-assessment now. Document as we go.¡±

    ¡°Alright, gimme what ya got,¡± Lee spoke on the ship loudspeaker for Kay¡¯s benefit.

    ¡°Feeling what I can only describe as slight synesthesia, very subtle, and hard to focus on directly.¡±

    ¡°Master, is everything well?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Kay,¡± he gave an assuring wave. ¡°Divers sometimes go through a process called Acclimation when they enter a new world. Perfectly normal and nothing for you to be worried about.¡± He was unsure of that last part, but freaking out would hardly help. ¡°I¡¯m going to ask you some questions Kay, please do your best to give as precise answers as possible.¡±

    ¡°So not like your answers then?¡±

    ¡°That would be perfect. Let¡¯s start with magic testing. I assume it¡¯s done in childhood. How is it usually administered?¡±

    ¡°A local mage might gauge the affinities of a child through simple attempts made with each element. In my case, Grandpa was sufficiently knowledgeable to evaluate me.¡±

    ¡°So just try out each element, huh? Earth, Water, Wind and Fire, or in reality solid, liquid, gas and maybe plasma?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your guess, Lee?¡±

    ¡°As good as any, plasma is a bit off though. Fire¡¯s thermal energy is way down in comparison.¡±

    ¡°Are fire mages usually strong Kay?¡±

    ¡°Nay! ¡®Tis the rarest and weakest of magics, perhaps one in many thousands of mages show some affinity. Potent Fire mages are the domain of legend.¡±

    ¡°Seems par for the course.¡± Jon thought aloud. ¡°Lower energy is not quite as easy to manipulate, perhaps. Just wild speculation though.

    ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll start from the bottom. Ms Mage-sensei how do you activate the use of your magic, say starting with Earth.¡±

    ¡°For each person, it is said to be different. However, for myself, I find closed eyes most effective. How do you use your magic, Master?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been over this Ms Ces. I don¡¯t use any magic, that¡¯s why I¡¯m asking you.¡± He closed his eyes and tried reaching, without moving, for the nearest object: a seat buckle. It was not very effective, or more precisely, completely ineffective. He saw nothing and felt nothing.

    ¡°I am confused. Why are you asking me for counsel then? Magic is not a learned skill, either you have the affinity, or you do not. If by the age of ten, a child shows no ability for the craft, then any magical potential is highly unlikely. Why rush for testing now?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s more like a benchmark than a test.¡±

    ¡°There are no benches in the ship that I can see. What is your intention?¡±

    ¡°Oh god, you¡¯re giving me a headache. The faster we get you on multimedia, the better.¡± He sighed, ¡°Earth magic is a dud. Next, water, I suppose I could use saliva but perhaps something less polluted with life would be better.¡± He spat on his hand anyway.

    Kay cringed. ¡°Dear gods Kel, give a lady warning next time! I shall need to house train you before we make for Elgelica.¡± He felt nothing, aside from a slimy hand that is. So he retrieved his sack and fished for his flask. The water was perfectly fine but still utterly inert to any attempted extension of his awareness. Although, there was a unique tactile sort of feedback that indicated a genuine feel of reaching out.

    ¡°Lee, please note that I am experiencing a sense of extended proprioception beyond my body.¡±

    ¡°Are you fucken for real right now? Sounds like a wicked trip man!¡±

    He stepped back through the rift standing ahead of Kay and the sense instantly evaporated.

    ¡°Sensations completely cease upon crossing the event horizon. No lingering feeling.¡± He returned to the HAS, and the extended sense effortlessly returned. ¡°Kay, when you use your magic, does it feel like reaching outside your body? Like sensing where your limbs are?¡±

    ¡°Why yes, that is a remarkably accurate depiction of the magical aura. Amazing Master, am I to take it that your magic has awakened then?¡±

    ¡°Baby steps Kay, all I know is something is different.¡±

    ¡°Since when?¡± Her tone sounded suspicious. ¡°Am I to blame perhaps?¡±

    ¡°No way of knowing exactly. Please remember that correlation does not imply causation.¡±

    ¡°But the timing is highly incidental, no?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only one data point. Just focus on the here and now, okay? You can¡¯t even step through a door. Get back on your horse, and then you can start worrying about me.¡± That was a bit curt on his part but needed.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Like hyping oneself up to jump into cold water, Keya huffed in agitation behind him. He glanced back to see her tentatively step onto the ship. Her relief was plain as day when absolutely nothing obviously happened.

    ¡°There Master, now have I earned the right to fret over you?¡±

    ¡°Welcome to the club! Still, I¡¯m a professional, and this is my job. Sit back and relax. I got this. Your turn comes soon.¡±

    She mumbled quibbles over that but said no more.

    Jon refocused, air was, of course, the next test, although he should have sensed the compressible fluid the moment he started if that was the case. He tried again anyway for the sake of protocol.

    ¡°Gas is similarly a ¡®no-go¡¯.¡± He said absently.

    ¡°Why do you call the elements different names, Master? I assume gas is the air?¡±

    ¡°Our naming conventions you can consider to be far more particular compared to your pre-scientific world. There are broadly speaking four states of matter you observe in everyday life, as I mentioned earlier, and they map onto your descriptions quite well. Tell me, are mages quite common in the population?¡± Jon rummaged through stuffed cabin lockers for a lighter as she spoke. It¡¯s a mess in these things; I wonder if I can trick Kay into organising them.

    ¡°Most folk, if tested, display some minor affinity, though testing and training is expensive: the province of nobles and the wealthy. A minor affinity is hardly helpful in everyday tasks. A woodsman with an axe is far more formidable than any minor mage, and the woodsman can feed his family. Perhaps a tenth of people show no affinity whatsoever, though it is hardly a cruel fate. The temptation of power may make a mage waste a perfectly good talent elsewhere. Grandpa warned against such folly.¡±

    He found an old Bic lighter and shook it for the telltale slosh of fuel. Perfect. ¡°Your old man was a wise dude. I¡¯m sorry I never got the chance to chat over a beer.¡±

    ¡°He remains in my heart always.¡± She became solemn.

    ¡°Thanks for the info.¡± He shut his eyes and flicked the lighter on. Almost instantly, his ¡®magic¡¯ sense prickled at a tiny ephemeral filament of ¡®light¡¯ in the void. It flickered in and out so he turned up the gas and it steadied but only barely.

    ¡°My, I¡¯ve seen that trinket before. Could I perhaps get one, Master? Flame without flint is of great value to many.¡±

    ¡°A dime a dozen, Kay. How many you want?¡±

    ¡°One will suffice. So? Are you perhaps the vaunted Fire mage?¡±

    ¡°Maybe, but you know what they say about assumptions? Lee, I¡¯m sensing what I can only guess as a minute sliver in the centre of the flame. An insignificant amount of ionised gas, perhaps.¡±

    ¡°Mother fucker!¡±

    ¡°Honestly you two and the mention of your mothers is quite uncouth. And no, I do not know what ¡®they¡¯ say about assumptions. Who does ¡®they¡¯ refer to?¡±

    He went to stage two and tried doing something to the flame, pretending it was a limb he tried swaying it, lulling his head in sync. The filament moved slightly, and he cracked an eye-lid to see the flame pull. But the fire was responsible for generating the evanescent ionised gas; as he pulled it away from the hot core, it dissipated rapidly.

    ¡°Is that you, Master? I feel no breeze in here, did the flame not just flicker?! I believe congratulations are in order. Even a minor flame mage is fortuitous indeed!¡±

    ¡°Hold your horses, girl; we¡¯re not done.¡± He shut off the lighter. ¡°I¡¯m gonna level with ya. There aren¡¯t just four states of matter, and I would be a bit screwed if my affinity was for something exotic, like a superfluid or Bose-Einstein Condensate. Moreover, your magic bullshit may not extend that far, but who¡¯s to say it doesn¡¯t. Nevertheless, I have some working hypotheses bouncing around in this old head of mine, and I¡¯ll share them if this pans out.¡± He retrieved his shock gloves from a pocket and made sure they fit well before activation.

    ¡°As you wish, today¡¯s quota for revelations has not yet been filled. Your pill deception we shall consider to be a debit rather than a credit.¡± Kay rocked her hips to the side and folded arms.

    ¡°Ooh, saucy accountancy references! Good to see you putting that homeschooling to use. Please beware you will hear a loud noise and see sparks do not be alarmed.¡± Following in monotone, he said, ¡°Proceeding with plasma test one.¡± He made a fist activating a thumb pressure pad and discharges started arching across the knuckle spikes. There were two pressure pads on his thumb. First, on the digit¡¯s inner edge to press when making a fist, and one centred pad for grappling. The later would activate the finger electrodes.

    ¡°Gods be! Hand lightning!¡±

    He ignored her and focused on the discharge with is eyes closed. It was very rapid and initially hard to feel, but he gradually closed in on the ionised leader just before the arc. It felt like another thin filament of ionised gas that he compared to a sensation of pins and needles, or perhaps static was a better analogy. ¡°I can sense what I assume to be the ionised leader, very brief and temperamental. Proceeding with manipulation. Evy, can you deploy the HAS earthing coupling?¡±

    Any airborne vessel was bound to build up charge over time, and for one that seldom touched down, it could become quite hazardous. The Hindenburg undoubtedly came to mind. As such, the low-tech solution was to earth through a rift with a simple conductive cable. On command he heard, the coupling engage with a soft clang somewhere below him in the hull. ¡°Earthing coupling engaged.¡± said Evy on loudspeaker.

    ¡°Good, that¡¯s more reassuring.¡± He reinitiated discharge. Then, ever so gently, he nudged the plasma trail millimetres at a time, feeling the ensuing arc lance out periodically. It escaped his grasp several times, bucking and flailing like a writhing fish. Each time he loosed his ¡®grip¡¯ and then tenderly resumed the moulding.

    More like taming a wild water hose than any pure art, it was a process of edgewise advancement. Slowly and painstakingly pulling the stray ionisation away from the shortest distance between points, and instead, building a bridge further out. The voltage potential required for a longer path rapidly climbed, and he fought that more so, as the plasma quickly dissipated between extended build-ups.

    ¡°I need more voltage. Setting it to manual and making it very gradual.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t push yourself, mate. This is already groundbreaking.¡±

    As the electric potential increased, he found the arcs snap stronger and quicker, so he opened his hand and instead fed the circuit to his fingers where the leap was more significant. A few pulses more, and he tamed the beast again. Like working a muscle, it got easier as he limbered up. He opened his eyes feeling the plasma there, both seeing and not seeing it: a sixth sense his consciousness had yet to sufficiently parse. Proceeding, he watched with a rising smile as the arc grew, extending further away each time. Eventually, it reached a full hand width away before returning to the anode.

    ¡°Imma fucking arc mage bitches!¡± said Jon.

    ¡°Technically, a plasma mage is apter,¡± inveighed Lee.

    Kay spoke. ¡°Never in my life would I have dreamed of seeing this! You command the very lightning of the gods. Meagre in size perhaps, though truly the magic from your world is both strange and puissant.¡±

    ¡°This is the magic from your world, not mine. Plasma doesn¡¯t exist in a whole lot of sources here. Generation is one thing; manipulation is another. FYI it¡¯s not the lightning I control, but the path it takes.

    ¡°Mind you; there are still lots of things to play with. I haven¡¯t been this amped since mammoth hunting in Russia. Lee, you remember that? Oh, the steaks were to die for! I hear they set up a reserve on 72-81, I wonder if they do delivery?¡±

    ¡°Master, whatever you do, I have never seen it before.¡± Stunned, she ran a hand through her frizzy hair.

    ¡°A forward operating base has now climbed to priority numero uno. The airship is no place to be testing lightning bolts. Kay, we make for Elgelica as soon as you think we are ready.¡±

    ¡°I shall transcribe our needs presently,¡± and she made to leave the ship.

    ¡°Uh-Uh-Uh, we ain¡¯t done with you yet. I seem to recall a horse to climb back onto.¡± She winced but did not make to escape. Jon admired such gumption, it almost felt like pride, but he shrugged that off as stupid.

 5.3 Keya Montage

    Keya felt varied and turbulent emotions of late. It was fast becoming her new way of life. However, most of all, at that very moment, she felt extremely comfortable and supported in the undergarments Kel had purchased. She dared not tell him. That she even wore them at all, would remain a secret etched upon her heart of hearts.

    For all the jaw-dropping wonders she had experienced to date, loss of ¡®Sportz Braaz¡¯ and those gods damned comfortable boots harrowed her most. Should she ever leave this oasis, access to them would be the highest price to pay. The underworld could have her soul, if it meant going back to the way things were, with clothes and shoes at least. She wondered if women from his world were as infatuated with such menial trifles as she. Perish the thought; his people were likely concerned with far loftier subjects. She tried thinking of what that might be. Inferring societal understanding from Jon and his helper Lee proved challenging. She would attempt subtly probing them on their culture and traditions when the opportunity arose.

    In honesty, thinking of anything else but the task before her was a reprieve. So it was, with much reticence, that she reached with her power toward Master. Only this time, to her surprise, it hit a wall. Her sense washed about him like a wave against a cliff, and she found no purchase. ¡°Master, it both relieves and infuriates me to say it, but you are now shielded. I cannot enter.¡±

    ¡°Interesting!¡± And thus began their daily training and her tutelage. They discussed a few alternatives and consulted her book. As noted, intrusion required the willingness of the subject, or forceful entry via ¡®alternate¡¯ means. The tome failed to elaborate further.

    Albeit Kel-sun refused to admit it, Keya knew she was to blame for Master¡¯s change. She had reached in and altered him in some unintentional way.

    Commendable as Master¡¯s new-found power was, he was but a neophyte in the realm of these magics. And having something she excelled at over him, was a bitter-sweet pleasure she delicately savoured. He would need practice before he could consciously give ground with his aura. Wresting and retreating against another¡¯s domain was a new concept to her too, but she found her awakened power had shifted in locus since the merging of Earth and Water elements. Her vitality and strength felt boundless; the movement of her body and her magic had since united like intertwined dancers. True, the dance was quite clumsy betimes, but no longer was it some external plaything to be commanded. Instead, it writhed and breathed with her like never before. Henceforth, aura manipulations became markedly easier.

    Instead of practice on himself then, Master retrieved some plants and fish in glass jars from the ¡®Aqua-poniks¡¯ gardens. It was a section of his abode she had yet to see, and the verdant area of lush greens calmed her soul as she strolled about. She resolved to return there more often and perhaps build her own world-side one day, Gods willing.

    Plants, even if more rigid, yielded freely to her magical touch while the fish took a few more days to tame.

    Preparation for Elgelica was a pedantic thing for Master. He proposed a few weeks of precaution before they embarked and Keya conceded. There were boundless mysteries throughout his abode to explore, and the luxury was second to none. Some part of her squirmed at how easily acquiesce had been purchased. She admonished that voice. Being homeless and starving in winter was unconscionably stupid, no matter how noble. Keya was always smart before she was proud, and Master appeared to agree. Three royal feasts a day with copious drinks in between and only the purest of water, with ice! She also received many elixirs of health: what almost all pills were meant for. How could anyone sane refuse such beneficent treatment?

    There were many other tasks and exercises assigned over the coming days. First, Kel-sun properly acquainted her with the facilities in her room. She had washed from the basin with the reflective silver wall every morning and night, a luxury she already found quite indulgent. Endless water of any warmth or coolness from pipes was already unbelievable. Upon more explicit instruction of the shower and bath, she understood how folly her ways had been. He readily insisted she bathe or shower once a day! Jon turned out to be a very particular man in this regard; explicitly prescribing a litany of soaps, creams and ointments to be used in specific areas and manners, and absolutely no other. She notably enjoyed the brush for her teeth and the accompanying foaming mint paste. Beyond early childhood, Elves teethed twice a century, and her first set were still pristine. However, a little more cleanliness could not hurt.

    To what end all this was required she had little understanding; Master maintained it was of the utmost importance for health. Instead of her mentor, he felt more like her chambermaid at times. Still, she had learned to attempt his ways before denouncing and rejecting them outright. If he wasted expensive soaps and perfumes on her, who was she to complain.

    Then was the black glass artefact across from her bed. She had ignored it since the first night of retiring to her chambers, though she had the inkling it was similar to the other black glass panels all about the manor. Kel-sun had, in deference to her initial sensitivities, left most of them quiescent upon her arrival. Now the ¡®Bunka¡¯ was positively alive with colour and moving paintings everywhere she looked. Some displayed knowledge, and others imagery and music to delight the senses.

    Evy was assigned to attend to any requests Keya might petition to her own black glass, a service for which Keya profusely thanked the servile elemental at every opportunity. That its attention could be better spent on other exigent matters that Master entertained, was not lost on her.

    Nevertheless, she soon understood the true gravity of the station Master had bestowed with this artefact. He called it the ¡®Inta-net¡¯, and like a massive dragnet, the entirety of all knowledge from Master¡¯s many worlds was gathered within. It felt as if consulting the very gods directly of their creations. No question of hers would go unanswered, and each answer given by Evy and painted beneath the glass spawned more questions. And so she went some nights, from inquiry to answer and question again, forcing herself to bed before the twenty third or fourth hour. Concerns about burning lamp oil were a forgotten consideration, the ceiling glowed pristinely, and day and night were hers to command.

    Moreover, the net of knowledge extended well beyond earnest scholarly needs. Records of art, culture, history, and even the most frivolous entertainment of his realm were availed to her. More music than she could ever listen to, more paintings she could ever see, and a new art called ¡®video¡¯ that combined moving paintings with sound. The very essence of memory was captured in a flawless and unerring manner. It could be played from beginning to end like a song, and each time the reproduction was identical. No grain of sand was out of place, she had checked.

    Her prior concern regarding clothes was folly; all that embarrassment was side-stepped by requesting directly through Evy. The servant knew all her measurements anyway; she need not have fretted. She exercised prudence for procurements, but some things simply had to be tried. Evy recommended garments with such queer names as ¡®t-shirts¡¯, ¡®jeans¡¯, and ¡®sneakers¡¯. Upon firsthand appraisal, these promptly became her preferred vestments around the Bunka. Their form-fitting and yet completely pliant flexion, a new-found indulgence. Kel warned that such garments would be ill-advised world-side and for good reason. With their garish colours, unique insignias, and crests, she may as well be wearing an army banner in her realm.

    Master remained focused on planning their best means of entering Elgelica in his personal time. Blithely walking up to the gate was somehow insufficient for his tastes. Keya suspected she was unsophisticated and naive in these matters, so she left plans for their infiltration to him. He would still often confer with her. ¡®Twas mundane and paltry know-how which she provided candidly.

    She felt her mind grow with each new sight and sound. Some nights she would be invited to watch longer ¡®videos¡¯, called ¡®Moovys¡¯ or ¡®Searys¡¯, with Kel in the living area on the largest glass screen. These she understood to be the legends of his people, and though he denied this, the way he showed endearment to the characters was patent. Some of the feats displayed were truly remarkable, and Master made it very clear they were but figments, with no reality to them. How he told the difference was hard to fathom, they all looked authentic to her. And other things which were manifestly impossible, he would unequivocally maintain to be earnest historical testament. Some nights she would giggle in bed before sleep took her, others would be sad or poignant. One constant was an unrelenting stream, nay torrent of ideas, images and sounds into her consciousness. That any mind could survive this onslaught, let alone to be born into it, well; such musings were as world-shattering as the rest. And, this was merely what she did in her free time.

    Entering Elgelica as a pressing need shifted from her to Kel over ensuing days. Time and familiarity weathered concerns better than any oath. Despite infantile banter, the deeper character of Master inexorably revealed itself in daily ritual. She watched and waited for the hearty veneer to crack and the man to be revealed. What she found, far from untoward, stirred warmth within her chest. I am safe here, and he is a civil host.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Still, he persisted with preparations and said, ¡°establishing a base of operations in a major city is essential to the larger goal of formal first contact.¡± His gibberish was a half-truth in her estimation; the mention of more magical practice and a city of elves never failed to make his lips twitch.

    In the mornings, they studied. Sometimes Jon would tutor, and other times Lee would manifest via the VR room.

    ¡°Was I not to receive night classes?¡± she asked.

    ¡°They are,¡± replied Master. ¡°It¡¯s night for Lee in Australia.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Why did I expect a sane answer.¡± She did not know of the mythical land of ¡®Awe-stray-lea¡¯. Sometimes Lee called it the ¡®Land Down Under¡¯. The underworld perhaps, as such, a place of eternal night. This line of reasoning made as much sense as any. Evy may have known more, but Keya had other more pressing interests.

    It was here where she finally had the opportunity to see Lee face to face, in a manner. He looked very different from Kel, with jet black hair and dark eyes. She had heard of elven tribes to the east that looked similar: Night Elves. This further strengthened her underworld hypothesis.

    Lessons were the delight of her day, schooling was a great privilege, and despite Grandpa teaching her at every opportunity, there were always the chores of living to be done. Not so for her extremely wealthy mentor. Additionally, the sheer majesty of how each lesson was presented with characters, colour, and demonstrations, enchanted the imagination. They professed to be starting her off slowly with education best able to assist her current needs. Talks involved natural laws her magic may harness, various rules and systems of how her archery and arrows functioned, as well as food, well-being, and medicine. She drank it all in. Were she to ask an opportune question they would readily digress, and she did so often.

    After this, she and Master would adjourn to the HAS where their magic could be released. Master brought out many new trinkets that produced the ¡®plazma¡¯ alleged to be his element. What he termed a ¡®state of matter.¡¯ The ¡®Plazma Globe¡¯ was for her the most intriguing. It became his primary tool of practice, considering lightning in the ship was a risky venture. She countered that lightning anywhere was a dire situation, and he conceded the point. ¡®Ee-leck-tris-city¡¯ he called it; the preponderant magic of his realm that powered almost all the marvels she encountered. His people had harnessed lightning and given it a pet name!

    They would sit cross-legged and partake in an observance he called ¡®meditation¡¯. Not dissimilar to prayer, albeit the goal was not supplication before the Gods or elements, but a distillation of mental focus. In this state, he would then manipulate the blue and pink strands of light within the globe, bending and twisting them in all manner of shapes and motions.

    She would sometimes watch with rapt attention at both the exquisite designs he made and his calm visage. With his eyes closed, it made for a rare opportunity to study her mentor¡¯s features, unguarded as it were. She gave counsel, though she soon realised, he was as formidable a student as a teacher. Quickly he started making and melding ponderings of his own with hers, often asking questions that revealed to her vast insights. That was the way of her mentor, each second an opportunity to learn and grow. And instead of dejection for the cavernous gap of knowledge between them, he spurred her on, giving her just enough to draw conclusions but stopping short of feeding her the answer.

    Of her master¡¯s many talents, this she prized above all. There was a sincerity with how he guided her. As if he saw in her greatness even beyond his own. No, it is you who is great! She wished to cry out. I am but a penniless village wench. He would, of course, reject such notions outright should she exclaim them. Just what he saw in her, she could not tell.

    Next, was her turn for magical manipulation. No sooner had she told Jon of her new-found vitality and strength, did he declare:

    ¡°So you¡¯re a fucken superhero!¡±

    The first class was dedicated to showing movies of these beings, and she quickly understood the significance. The mythical gods of his realm had been captured firsthand in immaculate video. No wild imaginings or retellings were required; their feats and tribulations laid bare for all to see. She only wished she could extol the gods of her realm so well. Perhaps one day she would get the chance.

    At this point, her morning activities blurred somewhat with afternoon training, which was the least enjoyable part of her day, aside from archery which she unabashedly loved. Exercise locales were split between the ¡®Jim¡¯ room and HAS for her benefit. The exercise regimen in the ¡®Jim¡¯ room was less enticing, especially without her new magic. She had been taught the necessity of health by now, but that knowledge made it no less gruelling.

    Regarding this new magical strength, she was taught an art called ¡®yoga¡¯. It combined the aforementioned meditation with the motion of her body. Initially, movement of body and magic in unison proved challenging, but as the days passed, it required less and less concentration. She practised with Jon together on the airship with the seats folded back to accommodate the strange acrobatic dancing and posing.

    ¡°How are you so strong and flexible!?¡± Keya asked. She could only keep up by cheating, supplementing magic for strength. Master had no such luxury; his body held none of the affinity he wielded.

    ¡°Practice and natural whore moans,¡± he replied.

    She would rather not think how ¡®whore moans¡¯ featured in his regimen, so she promptly dropped the subject. He is talented; I do not wish to know more.

    Then came the weights; Jon dragged some equipment to the HAS for her magical testing. She could swear she lifted more each day until the difference was too stark to doubt.

    ¡°Just to be clear, there is no way in hell you could lift this much without your Life Magic. So don¡¯t for bliksem¡¯s sake try this in the gym. You are not getting injured on my watch you hear!¡± His warning was kindly received. She knew well her limits since her slave driver never missed an opportunity to impress them upon her. Purely physical training took place after magic class in that very gym. She suspected he even revelled in her torment, pushing her to exhaustion and then some, repeatedly. Now, she flinched every time she heard ¡®Legs Day¡¯.

    Regarding injury, there was a time when she grazed herself on one of the gym¡¯s metal bars only for the mark to disappear the next day during magic training.

    ¡°Great, you have fucking super healing too!¡± said Jon.

    On closer inspection, many of her scars and old wounds had been fading or disappearing of late. What it meant as to the extent of her power was still uncertain. She did not have control of it and Master was himself dubious, a rare event. Caution was the watchword as always and never to rely on just one thing too heavily.

    Her book, the inception of all this, proved to be rather brief and extremely light on details. An introductory text at best, though still valuable for the transformation it inspired. I am a Life Mage; to shy away from this truth is to deny my very being.

    Some vexations of passing village clergymen still played in the back of her mind, evangelising the sanctity of the pure elements. Truthfully, she found their proclamations less believable by the day.

    In light of the fantastic world opening up before her, guided by a wise, unerring mentor, how could they compare? The church was not there when the wolves came, or when Gillan¡¯s gang beat Grandpa. Perhaps she was too reverent of Jon, a human only a few years her senior. Some elves might scoff at a man deigning to teach an elf anything. Human lives were ephemeral by comparison. What knowledge could they possibly garner in so short a time?

    How woefully mistaken such arrogant fools would be! The best fortune to grace her life thus far was poverty. Without it would she have chosen the red pill? She doubted it. Thanks to the misconception of that pill¡¯s influence, she had come to see the real power of choice and will. Again, how her tutor taught his lessons, thrummed a deep and resonant rhythm upon her heart.

    Finally were the combat classes. It was not an initial priority until Keya¡¯s magical potency was revealed.

    ¡°Opponents may close on you, thinking you an easy close-quarters mark. And in any other universe, they¡¯d be right. It¡¯s a ruse you were born for, best we use it,¡± said Master.

    Master was, unsurprisingly, both physically and technically superior in a brawl. He focused on basic forms and techniques: how she might use fists and limbs to strike. Her blows were paltry in the gym, but he was still strict with correct alignment and tensing of muscles. Then there was the placement of feet and posture; no inch of her body was overlooked. She might have found it salacious were it not done with a most displeased and phlegmatic eye. Did he prefer men, she wondered?

    Aside from this, he instructed her in some simple measures to break free from bodily grapples and grasping. Videos demonstrating the cruel effectiveness of some strikes, particularly against males, elucidated just why she was being taught this. It heated her cheeks in their close-knit practice, but Master seemed oblivious. Such valuable instruction she would never receive from anyone in her world. Women were seen as dainty creatures in her realm, meant to be saved: kept helpless and unprepared for such dire situations. Master saw beyond all this; he freely gave any knowledge and training she wished, and then some. The way he saw her was a disarming thing, as if he gazed upon her mind instead of her body. She felt liberated and vulnerable all at once.

    Classes in coordinated combat were also visited upon in the VR room. They came fully equipped in the battle standards of his realm. Training in the use of his ¡®Fire-arms¡¯ was forestalled pending her better understanding of science. Their power could be more harm than help to an uneducated simpleton, and she held little doubt of that after seeing them at the range. Bolts that shot faster than sound were an unbelievable artifice, even when clearly and succinctly explained to her.

    They were armed with false or padded weapons in the VR room; she brought her bows. The task was a game the likes of which she had played in childhood. Except the goggles presented quite visible apparitions of adversaries in varied environs and arrangements. They slew mainly from a distance with Keya covering his flank as he moved ahead. Rarely did they face the enemy directly in frontal combat. She suspected there might be scruples about honour amongst the fighters of her world, but she was not well versed in these matters.

    Master¡¯s designs for her became more evident with each lesson; rigorously building her up, brick by brick, from the foundations of her own strength. Unfurling every morning from her bedsheets like a blossom in spring; the light of the world was that much brighter. Within, the very cadence of her soul beat evermore invigorated.

 5.4 Review and Plan

    Keya prodded the ruby red glass-like block with her spoon: it wobbled. She sat in the living room on the sofa in front of the big glass screen. Master was attempting to show her something on it, but none of that mattered. Because watching glass wobble was by far the most extraordinary sight in the room. She flicked it with her spoon again, and it responded in kind. Then she carved a piece out of it with the same implement and imbibed it. A cornucopia of luscious forest berry flavours melted in her mouth, and she closed her eyes to savour it. The texture was similar to layers that formed on thickened meat broths, but the sugared taste and colour enchanted the senses.

    Only the wealthy could regularly afford sugar, but this was much more than a tiny cloying sweet brought at premium from a vendor. How spoiled am I now then? How rich? If she left right now with on the clothes on her back¡ªand provided I am not robbed¡ªhow long could she live off the profits from their sale? And leave here! Keya you are getting dumber, not smarter with these facile musings. She banished the thought. Conversing with herself was also the surest sign of lunacy; she admonished that too. Leave the madness to Master; I am tasked to present a sane front.

    The room had gotten quiet. Keya opened her eyes to find Master knowingly watch her enjoy the treat.

    Keya felt embarrassed all of a sudden. ¡°I am truly sorry Master. I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Try the drink as well,¡± he smiled.

    She peered past the ¡®jelly¡¯ to the long glass holding a bubbling dark brown beverage on the low table.

    ¡°It¡¯s after dinner so the insulin spike won¡¯t be so harsh.¡± The evening¡¯s feast still sat heavy in her belly, heartily sated, until she took the sweet first bite.

    Covetously she held the magical treat in one hand and reached for the drink with the other. The glass, cold and dew-covered, found her lips and an effervescent nectar delight burst across her tongue. The flavour compared to nothing she knew. No fruit, vegetable, meat, or spirit tasted so, bubbling more vigorously than brewed beer and sweet as honey with a bitter aftertaste. An uncontrollable smile pulled at her lips when she swallowed. ¡°Cola,¡± she mouthed the name. ¡°I could eat and drink this every day!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you could. Some people do, but what sustains the senses doesn¡¯t always sustain the body. More people die from overeating than starvation in the greater universe. As your freedom and wealth increases, so too must your discernment. Don¡¯t worry; I¡¯ve been keeping an eye on your diet. The art of health is a complex one, but a little indulgence here and there is harmless.¡±

    ¡°Please do not misunderstand Master. Everything I have experienced over the past few weeks has been remarkable. I can say with no hesitation: It has been the best time of my measly life.¡± She looked down guiltily. Why did she feel bad? I am undeserving of this boon. She waited for it to end, for payment to come due, but it never came. She understood his words and reasoning but had yet to accept it entirely within her heart.

    ¡°Only the beginning. Mere physical delights are the least the world has to offer,¡± Jon ate his jelly idly. ¡°or some shit like that. Hmm, this jelly is pretty lekker.¡±

    She almost broke down in tears before him but held firm. Did this man deserve her doubt and deception? Was she a mere thief indulging in his hospitality, only to flee at the first sign of danger? His actions were his language. His faith in her, displayed in the time he spent and the knowledge he imparted. These things he could not steal back no matter how deep the deceit. Still, she was unsure. Just a little longer.

    ¡°What is the occasion?¡± asked Keya. Typically she was free to do as she pleased after dinner.

    ¡°Two things. First, let¡¯s address the elephant in the room.¡±

    ¡°Gigantic legendary beasts?¡± She glanced about and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing more magical or new besides.

    ¡°Figure of speech, ask Evy later. I mean your magic Kay; it¡¯s friggin awesome, but I¡¯d like to share some insights.¡±

    ¡°Please, do.¡± Master¡¯s musings, in her experience, verged on prophecy.

    ¡°Right, well best I can tell the basic magic from your world essentially applies a body force to whatever you target with your aura. You remember how I mentioned gravity as a body force?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Well, if gravity were full of shit and only listened to one person at a time, it would be the same. Instead, gravity ignores and fucks with everyone equally.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°So they are not at all alike, and ours is a magical force.¡± Rather disappointing. ¡°I could have told you that.¡±

    ¡°Keyword here is ¡®body force¡¯. A force applied uniformly through your matter of choice. When you grasp something with your aura, you grasp every atom you envelop. At least every atom you¡¯re attuned to. I¡¯ve taken to call it your Resonance.¡±

    ¡°Barely weeks a mage and you¡¯re naming more things. Was ¡®affinity¡¯ not good enough?¡±

    ¡°Call it what you like,¡± replied Jon. ¡°Long and short is, yours has a penchant for organics, and it doesn¡¯t have to look far.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, with each passing day of your tuition, I feel my aura suffuse me ever deeper.¡± Her spoon clinked at the bottom of an empty bowl. It disappeared so quickly; furtively glancing over, Master¡¯s remained almost untouched.

    Without comment, he slid the bowl toward her. Gleefully she began wolfing down her second helping of arcane nectar.

    A crooked smirk spread upon his lips.

    Between mouthfuls, she asked. ¡°How did you divine your yoga and meditation would assist my magic?¡±

    ¡°Educated guess. The magic had to have a physiological or neurological component. Magic can¡¯t just be, well, magic. Bullshit may not have a ¡®why¡¯, but there¡¯s always a ¡®how¡¯ and ¡®what¡¯. The virus that preceded my gift seemed to indicate as such; so I tested, and here we are.¡±

    ¡°Surely the ¡®why¡¯ is most important.¡±

    ¡°To us: Yes. To reality: No.¡± Sipping his chilled cola made the ice cubes clink and froth in the liquid. Afterwards, smacking his lips with a refreshed breath.

    Keya mimicked him, much to his bemused gaze. With a moment to contemplate she replied. ¡°The Gods created the world for the races, that is why.¡± How had an answer so elementary escaped him?

    ¡°That answer says much, but explains nothing.¡±

    ¡°The Gods decree is a perfectly sound answer!¡± Keya retorted.

    ¡°Yeah, an answer for absolutely any and every question. It tells us nothing more, and we can learn nothing from it. Infinitely malleable answers are lousy answers. Hard to vary explanations are elegant ones. ¡®Coz God done it¡¯ is lazy.¡±

    ¡°Well then, ¡®wise¡¯ Master, what elegant answers do you have?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been benching around 160kgs with your magic.¡±

    ¡°Your measures are meaningless to me.¡±

    ¡°350 pounds?¡±

    ¡°Equally unknown. Each kingdom has its decreed measures; save for traders, most people are none the wiser.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been looking at, and hearing numbers for weeks now, and you never thought to ask?!¡±

    ¡°I can count arrows; it is enough.¡±

    ¡°The fuck it is! Thank god for the multiversal metric system. Alpha be praised!¡±

    ¡°That is the most reverent I have ever heard you.¡±

    ¡°And for good reason, trust me. Anyway, you can lift around two human men with those slim twigs you call arms.¡±

    ¡°Oh my!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and much as I enjoy watching you heave and pant without magic, there was method to my madness. I was trying to gauge limits. Evy helped plot most of the data.¡±

    ¡°And mine are?¡± If he gave her another inscrutable number, she would punch him.

    ¡°Your Mage Power, being the difference between exertion with and without it, is about 680 Watts. Ow!¡± He rubbed his shoulder. ¡°Well, at least you locked your wrist. Good form.¡±

    ¡°You and your numbers!¡±

    ¡°Your Maximum Draw is a little under a horse¡¯s power. Please don¡¯t hit me world-side.¡± His voice was pleading.

    Keya slumped back on the sofa and stared at her hands. She could plough a field herself now, no donkey or ox required.

    ¡°There¡¯s more.¡±

    She looked up.

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen your skin and scars, so you know you¡¯re healing faster. Add to that atypical muscle recovery time, weird caloric deficits even accounting for your magical strength, and consistent mass gain.¡± He ruffled his hair, exhaling. ¡°We don¡¯t even spend that much time outside.¡±

    Keya understood less than half of what he prattled about, as usual. However, given time, he¡¯d make a point she would mostly understand.

    ¡°This is wild speculation, but your metabolic processes seem to be supplementing themselves with magic to some degree. I¡¯d need a medical retest and a specialist to be sure, but essentially your body is partially living off magic.¡±

    ¡°Not the white room again!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought.¡± Resting his legs on the table. ¡°In case you were wondering, there¡¯s fuck all different with me. Besides moving pretty lights in a globe, I¡¯m still the same arsehole you met under a tree.¡±

    Perhaps he had not changed, but her estimation of him had, drastically.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Keya. Master had surely observed her very meticulously over the last weeks. She still knew little of his Science, though the careful records and rituals for its function did not escape her. It took work and effort to produce the knowledge he openly shared with her.

    ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°For everything thus far.¡± Come what may, this was a truth she could stand by.

    ¡°Sure.¡± He fidgeted in his seat. ¡°Next, have a look at this.¡± He conjured an image on the main glass screen. The image was a birds-eye view of five figures on horseback. Slightly oblique, it conveyed the profile and equipment of the men from the rear, yet the bald heads, broad shoulders, and varied skin hues identified them instantly.

    ¡°Those are Orcs, and their brawny mounts are the hallmarks of only one tribe: nomadic Mor¡¯ Orcs. Where was this image taken? From your airship, I wager.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, a few miles north of Elgelica.¡±

    ¡°Across the sea? They are very far from the main host battling humans on the mainland then.¡±

    ¡°The war in the North?¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Bard¡¯s tales vex that Mor¡¯ Orcs are formidable foes; they may one day conquer the whole world. Coming from the northeast, they have slowly pushed into human lands, fighting on their mighty mounts.¡±

    ¡°Scouting party or deserters then?¡±

    ¡°Either way, they should be avoided.¡±

    ¡°Hell no, that¡¯s our ticket in!¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ I was mistaken, Master. They are weak and peaceful religious pacifists.¡±

    ¡°Those weapons and armour say otherwise. You¡¯ve gotta start lying a lot earlier if you wanna be believable.¡±

    ¡°Noted.¡± Keya tossed her head back on the sofa, staring at the grey ceiling. Being inferior at both truth and lies, compared to Master, was rather humbling. She rolled her head, seeing his cola on the table.

    ¡°No! Mine!¡± He shielded the glass with his hands.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°You were thinking it!¡±

    She was.

 5.5 Deployment Doubts

    Jon and Lee had been fanboying something serious upon the discovery of Kay¡¯s Life Magic. Super strength and super healing were overpowered as all fuck.

    He checked the damned photos from her initial medical; they displayed the kind of wear and tear he would expect from a rough life in the frontier. Consequently, people from the 21st would pay good money for the kind spa treatment that shit was giving her skin. God only knew what was happening underneath. If he had to drink her under the table and drag her to medical, he¡¯d do it. Who knew if that even fucken worked anymore.

    Frankly, he was god damned fucking jealous, but she was a major character, after all; he should have expected as much. On the other hand, the technical know-how required to utilise plasma was something way beyond her. Better that he struggle to innovate out of his rut than her. Range was something he had over Kay at least, the higher the energy, the easier it was to detect.

    He sat at the helm of the HAS some nights counting the lightning strikes he felt. The ship, of course, had some rudimentary EMI detectors. As stripped of non-essentials as she was, too much lightning and she was going to have a bad day. Comparing what he could detect against that, helped gauge his sensitivity. More significant discharges he felt further away, like a lighthouse in the distance on a foggy night.

    He got up to 50 kilometres with a good jolt. No way in hell he could reach that far; 5k was the absolute limit with his proprioception: amazing, and also useless. Ionised gas was certainty his Resonance, but she was a shy and fleeting minx. The bolts he managed to reach quickly enough, would dissipate their ionised particles as swiftly as they formed. It was like trying to catch smoke with one¡¯s hands: futile and pointless.

    He really did not need to beat himself up over all of this. Things were generally going swimmingly. The recent discoveries were going up the ladder like a mother-fucker; there was little doubt of that. This place was going to be ground-zero for one thing he hated more than meat he couldn¡¯t barbeque or cure, namely politics. Quarantine was gonna be expedited for sure. That meant more people were coming down the pipe, and soon.

    He was effectively blocked off from his side, and that was how he liked it. So his only option was to find someone or a group of someones world-side that relished politics more than he hated it. He would subsequently play them off the white-collars, and he and Kay could then fuck off to somewhere with fewer pens, paper, and moving mouths. Maybe Japan, that was always on his bucket list, right below staying not-dead. That was number one.

    He gauged he had a few weeks or a month at the most. Then the specialists would arrive and steal his candy. By that time, he wanted something to apologise for rather than ask permission.

    Accordingly, Elgelica was his best play. Race supremacist Elves butting up against technologically superior humans was the stuff of legends. Their long lives would ensure the ass-spanking would be remembered for centuries to come. Just the kind of political stability this bullshit world might need. He was personally rooting for the Elves, but he didn¡¯t hold out much hope.

    He and Kay sat at the helm of the HAS, in the pilot¡¯s and co-pilot¡¯s seat respectively. The chairs were rarely manned outside of landing and take-off, and the controls rarely manually overridden. Hell, Lee had more flight hours piloting the HAS, and he¡¯d never set foot in the thing!

    They weren¡¯t piloting the bulbous beast now either. Kay sat primly in her seat, restless hands in her lap. She¡¯d been told to touch nothing. That was like telling a fat kid in a candy store he couldn¡¯t have any. In recent days Kay had cottoned on to the idea of buttons, the poking and prodding phase of techno-culture shock was now in full swing. He hated this phase.

    Jon¡¯s feet were up on a side-dash away from the locked console. In his hands, he held a stubby black cylinder with fins and a rounded, weighted nose. It reminded him a bit of a mortar shell without the tapered tail.

    ¡°Kay, please unlatch the fastener of the discharge tube and lift the lid.¡± He gestured to a centralised vertical tube in the cockpit. It had a rounded top at seat height, easily accessible from their positions.

    Kay looked noticeably excited at being allowed to touch a new mechanism. She sprang to her feet and spent the next five minutes trying to figure it out. When he opened his mouth to explain, she put a finger up without looking. Fine, fucken fiddle then.

    The tube was much longer and broader than the meagre drop-rift in his hands. It was basically a downward-facing torpedo tube. Dropping shit from an airborne vehicle had a plethora of applications, many of which were destructive. Surprisingly, he mostly used it for constructive purposes.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Kay finally got the latch undone looking up to ensure all was good. Jon nodded. Clasping the handle she pulled; it didn¡¯t budge.

    Jon smiled; the pressure inside the vessel had not been equalised yet. It was sealed from outside, but internal pressure was still that at 20000ft. He¡¯d delayed activating the release valve as a teaching moment. As such the lid would remain sealed shut due to cabin pressure.

    Kay did not relent.

    His expression rapidly fell as a sucking noise could be heard at the edges. Pressure equalised, and the lid jolted open as resistance instantly evaporated.

    Kay huffed ¡°That was heavy! How do you do it without magical strength?¡±

    Jon facepalmed. This was my fault, I should have known better. ¡°We don¡¯t, but Super-Kay over here gives zero fucks. You¡¯re lucky this system is so robust.¡±

    ¡°So you were trying to trick or test me?¡± She folded arms in a look of defiance.

    ¡°I was trying to teach you about pressure, but apparently, you are too strong and stubborn.¡± He rubbed his temples.

    ¡°Teach me now.¡±

    ¡°The moment has passed.¡±

    Kay frowned as though Christmas was cancelled.

    ¡°Here, put this inside. Right at the bottom if you will. Don¡¯t drop it.¡±

    Far more eager than seemed sane, she took the drop-rift from him. Then she lent in up to her elbow and deposited the small black finned missile on the exit latch. He heard it clink on the metal.

    ¡°Alright close her up, and I¡¯ll let you do the drop.¡±

    Sealed and latched, he guided her slim hand to the button. Flipping up the perspex switch shield, he let her depress the red glowing rectangle labelled ¡®Bombs Away!¡¯. A thunk and whistling air below let him know the payload was free. Screens nearby showed the hull-mounted gimbal camera tracking the item with a white square as it fell.

    ¡°Good job. Now let¡¯s get ourselves ready in the rift room. We deploy in 15 minutes.¡± He got up, and Kay followed him back to the bunker.

    The drop-rift impact site was in a cluster of trees. The device was designed to take impacts; being dropped from the HAS at six kilometres up made that an essential requirement. They stepped through onto darkly soiled forest floor.

    Upon passing through and after a brief sweep, he glanced back at the flimsy rift. The black finned missile sat half embedded and diagonal in the earth. A short tether extended from its tail to the floating balloon ring. Inflated with helium, it could right itself from whatever angle the canister landed. The downside being it bobbed in the wind, making traversal clumsy. Kay demonstrably stumbled as she stepped through, scolding the thing with a backward glance.

    She was equipped with her compound bow, and him his rifle and sidearm. After securing the area, the drop-rift was replaced with a far more inconspicuous and stable stake deployed rift. It sat properly flush with the ground, and he activated it briefly to ensure their fall back position.

    Kay took a few moments staring up at the sky and taking deep breaths. They had been cooped up for a few weeks after all. The HAS alleviated cabin fever to a degree but was no substitute. A chilly breeze pulled through the trees contrasting with a dusky red sky.

    ¡°Master, these plans for Elgelica rely quite heavily on me.¡±

    ¡°Duh, it¡¯s your quest. Me support, you hero.¡± Pointing brutishly. ¡°Why would I do all the work when you¡¯re perfectly capable.¡±

    ¡°You trust me.¡± It was a conclusive statement, one she did not seem willing to argue.

    ¡®Trust¡¯, Jon knew the meaning, but its implications were dubious. People did what they did. He ¡®trusted¡¯ people to be themselves. Either he anticipated it, or he did not. ¡°Sure.¡±

    Kay turned to him, averting her eyes. ¡°I feel I have not been as forthcoming as I should have regarding how Elgelica shall receive you, or more precisely your kind. Humans are most undoubtedly second class citizens within their walls.

    ¡°I had withheld this deception as a means to test your character and intent. The last few weeks, however, have changed much.¡± She fiddled with her bow. ¡°Please, I fear for your safety, and I wish to apologise most contritely for my deceit.¡± She knelt and bowed her head like he was some kind of king, again.

    ¡°Well now you¡¯ve gone and fucked it up, that was a perfectly good play! From here on, I¡¯ve gotta rely on your Poker face.¡± He gave a defeated sigh. ¡°Get up! Look at me! In the eyes!¡±

    Slowly standing, she meandered her gaze until their eyes met.

    ¡°Good, my name is Kel or Jon. No honorary title, and definitely no ¡®Master¡¯. I am your aide. We are world-side now. That means: put your game-face on. We are doing this, no ¡®ifs¡¯ or ¡®buts¡¯.¡±

    Reluctantly she made that smirk he¡¯d grown fond of. ¡°So when you say ¡®game¡¯ you imply this is not a game, is that correct?¡±

    ¡°Oh my god, she¡¯s beautiful! Don¡¯t they grow up so fast! It brings a tear to my eye.¡± He wiped theatrically at his cheek.

    Folding her arms, she said, ¡°So Jon, what do we have on the docket for today?¡±

    He mustered all the old-timey gravitas he could¡ªwhich was not much¡ªand said, ¡°Why honourable Luren-sena!¡± Kay adopted Ralfen¡¯s family name on her father¡¯s side as an alias. Elves were matrilineal.

    ¡°¡®Tis necessary we show our value to the great people of Elgelica! As you know a party of Orcs was spotted not far from here. Perhaps the vanguard of the formidable Mor¡¯ Orc horde spreading across the channel to the northeast. From whence they came and wherefore, would be of great value to the Elves would it not?¡±

    ¡°I am astounded you can speak properly!¡±

    ¡°Oh, fuck off!¡±

    ¡°Tisk aide, I¡¯ll have none of that language while in my service or I¡¯ll whip you myself. Are we clear?¡± Kay gave a wry smile. God damn it, she was going for it.

    ¡°Yes, mam!¡± He stood at mock attention.

 5.6 MorOrcs

    The first thing Jon smelt was the dirty scent of low energy plasma, or did he taste it? The synesthesia was still fucking with him. Whatever. He and Kay were perched on an overlooking but forested rise, observing with low-light scopes. A bonfire was going nicely, shielded by some small mountainous outcroppings and the forest as a whole. These Orcs had no need for subtlety given the factors mentioned. It was dark as the pair circumspectly approached their marks, their camera eye in the sky gave enough details to pinpoint the camp precisely.

    Now came the fun part: finding a way to intimidate five battle-hardened muscle-bound hulks. Orcs were not magically attuned; Kay had explicitly said as much. Thank god for small miracles. They made up for this by simply being fucking strong.

    Jon took another look. The Orcs were all buff as bodybuilders. Their skin colour varied from darkened pinks to almost green greys, with mottled splotches of generally symmetrical pigment. The patterns on exposed skin made individual identification trivial, even from afar. Hairlines were cropped high, closely shaven, or bald. One also sported a short mohawk.

    ¡°I kinda expected more green skin.¡±

    ¡°Tribes from the savage jungles south of the sea tend to be greener. These Orcs¡¯ ancestors likely roamed the plains and tundra to the north.¡±

    ¡°Well, look at Ms Anthropologist over here! How do you know so much about Orcs?¡±

    ¡°Grandpa had an insatiable curiosity for the other races. I had thought his penchant foolish, and his incessant cataloguing worthless. He lived a long life with much travel before rearing me. Now, I see the value in such knowledge.¡± Kay glanced down, hiding her expression.

    Jon continued surveillance. Their clothing illustrated they weren¡¯t dumb either; each orc had a well maintained, if minimal, set of armour. This consisted mostly of furred leathers over quilted gambeson, with some choice metal plates. They had varied weapons, from shield-axe combos, spears, and even one rather sturdy looking recurve bow. The most outstanding feature that set them apart from average Orcs, if there were such a thing, was their mounts. The fact they had any was notable, but having a horse capable of saddling the two-metre tall beast-men was equally terrifying.

    Understandably, these horses dwarfed most prime specimens produced by any passionate equestrian from back home. They had abundant, flowing manes, and knotted muscles rippled beneath their shiny hide. Thick trunk-like legs sported longer fur along their forelimbs. Those beasts scare me more than the riders! He could imagine facing a cavalry charge, or more precisely, trying to be nowhere fucking near one.

    Kay asked, ¡°To be plain, Jon, you wish to walk up to these monsters mostly unarmed and talk to them?¡±

    ¡°Well sure, how else can I establish their intent here.¡±

    ¡°From the horses and weapons, I think it should be unequivocal. They are Mor¡¯Orcs: at war with the humans on the mainland.¡±

    ¡°What they are is not as important as why they¡¯re here: Scouts, deserters, mercenaries, etcetera. There is more to establishing hostile intent than simply sighting them down your bow. As a rule of thumb, I never underestimate anyone wearing gambeson; they¡¯re always extremely pragmatic arseholes.¡±

    ¡°Now he cares about ''why''," she mumbled and then spoke up. "Perhaps, wise in terms of the gathering of knowledge Ma-, Jon. It does conversely expose you to far more risk. Especially when my bow and your firearms can assail them from afar.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been over this, Kay. I¡¯m not a friggin assassin, and there is no benefit in approaching this engagement if we don¡¯t get bargaining intel for Elgelica.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Jon,¡± she conceded but looked by no means comfortable. He gave her a conciliatory shoulder pat, and they set about with the plan. Kay, was a good kid and she had made admirable progress so far, but she was still green as hell. Not Orc or Golbin green, he corrected himself. Perhaps calling people green in a world with actual green people would be misleading¡ªa problem for another time.

    Anyway, as strong as she was, weapons could still pierce her skin. Jon was very disappointed with that part of the testing, hoping for more ¡®super¡¯ from the super-girl. So, Jon continued to take point for the time being.

    He left her armed and with a good vantage, while he picked his way down the hill toward the murderous looking muscle heads.

    Once clearing the tree line, he immediately faced five very startled and readily armed Orcs. ¡°Hello,¡± he said his voice carrying in the shocked silence.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Who goes there! Halt and state your business!¡± bellowed the closest Orc. Jon didn¡¯t need to be told twice to stop. Approaching these five muscle-bound brutes was already disconcerting.

    ¡°Ah, hello, my name is Jon. I am a woodsman around these parts, I spied your fire from the ridge and decided to investigate.¡±

    ¡°Where is your axe woodsman?¡± The Orc that came forward was the mohawked one; dark pigments trailed down his cheeks like black gashes. As he spoke sharp and extended upper and lower canines flashed in the dim and flickering light.

    ¡°I felt it better to approach unarmed. Given how startled you were, I suspect it was the best course.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough woodsman, are you alone?¡±

    ¡°Verily no, I have a companion spying our exchange from that hillside over yonder.¡± He pointed to a hill where he hoped there was indeed no one.

    ¡°Thank with being so forthcoming, Jon. My name is Baugh.¡± He appeared to relax some, and another Orc strutted back to attend to one of their beast-horses.

    ¡°I come in peace, as you see, and I note you appear to be men of discipline and competence. However, the Elven City of Elgelica is nearby, and though they may look with disfavour on my kind; they are decidedly more opposed receiving Orcs. Perhaps Mor¡¯Orcs even more so.¡± He was baiting the hook quite heavily.

    ¡°We are not men; we are Orcs,¡± Baugh stated definitively.

    ¡°A slip of common parlance, you¡¯ll forgive me.¡±

    ¡°It is true; you are forgiven.¡± He hoisted his shield and war axe, and slowly began to approach. The two Orcs swiftly mounted their horses and rode into the forest toward where Jon had gestured earlier.

    ¡°Is there something the matter?¡± Jon asked innocently.

    ¡°Nothing at all. All will be resolved shortly. You see, so far from the horde, it is important we maintain as concealed an approach as possible. It is not the most honourable of tasks, but knowing the lay of the land will ensure much honour for the main host when it arrives. Your companion will be chased down quickly no matter where he hides, Curbag is a good tracker, and we are far from any town.¡±

    ¡°Wow, you¡¯ve really thought this through.¡±

    ¡°How unfortunate that you have not.¡±

    ¡°What if I had a squad of men, waiting in the trees?¡±

    ¡°We scouted the entirety of this area before making camp. Whatever hovel you hid in, you have no horses and few men. We would have found the tracks otherwise. One look at your clothing shows you are no soldier. A huntsman perhaps, but your fair skin has the stench of a noble. Perhaps you are a mage, but I have bested many such arrogant fools. Too lazy to learn of muscle and steel, and too dependent on silly tricks.¡±

    ¡°You know books generally give you guys a bad rep. But colour me impressed!¡±

    ¡°Enough! For me, at least there will be some honour tonight. I know your name, and you know mine.¡± He unlatched a belted dagger the size of a short sword and tossed it to the ground ahead of Jon. The other two Orcs stood back, weapons at the ready. The bow-armed orc had left with a spear wielder to catch Jon''s ¡®companion¡¯. The situation was clear, and it made Jon smile in relief.

    ¡°Aah, thank you for making this so easy! Honestly, you¡¯ve totally exceeded my expectations; you guys are doing your job superbly. It¡¯s just a pity I stumbled upon you. I am sorry, as you say, this is business.¡±

    ¡°Pick up your weapon human, or I slay you like a petty beast!¡± The Orc was pacing impatiently far outside of sword range, around five meters.

    ¡°There is no need; I''m already armed.¡± And with that, an arrow sailed to land just in front of Baugh. It had a large bulbous head, and Jon braced his senses as the flashbang went off. In the dark forest, the blinding light was extremely effective against night vision. Baugh swayed side to side dazed. Jon drew his sidearm, already loosened from his hip holster; the Colt 1911 bucked cleanly with three shots centre mass before Baugh even knew what hit him. One hit his wood shield for all it was worth. Baugh collapsed on his knees and slumped forward.

    The other two Orcs were further away, and a little more shocked than dazed. Then Jon¡¯s AK-103, mounted on a gimbal joint and perched in a tree, let loose and rained burst shots. Bullets perforated the poor fucks as only a machine could. An arrow found one Orc¡¯s head before it went down too.

    Hearing the noise pulled the search party back, and they entered the clearing at full gallop, not a minute later. Jon found cover behind a rock and tossed out a flashbang just as they approached. The payload of the lobbed version was much larger, hence its greater effectiveness. The horses bucked and tossed their riders in the brutal ruckus of light and sound, before bolting off.

    Jon had clamped a sensor pack to the tree housing his rifle. Seismics were pointless so far away, but low light and infrared optics worked just fine. Where the riders lay was indicated on his HUD, and he peered over the boulder opening fire. The bow-wielding Orc died where he lay, while the other, wounded but not lethally, started crawling away.

    ¡°Cease fire.¡± Both Kay, Evy, and Lee received his command. Lee oversaw targeting and data management for most engagements.

    ¡°Be careful,¡± replied Kay.

    ¡°Second that,¡± said Lee

    He approached the prone and crawling orc cautiously; gun readied and out of melee range. ¡°I am really sorry about this; you appear to be well-trained soldiers. Your mistake was initiating hostilities with an unknown enemy when there was no need.¡±

    ¡°No, human!¡± He sputtered blood as he flipped himself over to face Jon. ¡°It is you who have engaged with an unknown enemy! The horde will pillage and raze Elgelica to the ground! Tell your masters their time is short!¡± With that, he pulled a dagger from his belt and slit his own throat. Jon could have shot, but he let the man have his petty honour.

    ¡°Thank you, Orc; I will tell them. I am sorry I will never know your name.¡± The defiance never left his eyes as he gurgled and bled out.

    Jon turned about and surveyed the carnage. ¡°Okay Kay, the sensors show us in the clear. Approach with caution, and then we have clean-up to do.¡±

    ¡°Understood, Jon. This was a success, no?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but they gave us what we need.¡±

    Had things panned out differently, he might have preferred siding with the Orcs. Just their brief altercation gave him plenty to go on. But, as with all wars, who was right mattered less than who was left.

 6.1 Entry, Duh

    They approached Elgelica from the northeast the next day on two giant Mor¡¯Orc warhorses and the other three in tow. It took most of the evening to retrieve them. Kay was much better than he at calming and coaxing them, so he gave the tracking to her while he mopped up the campsite.

    With Jon currently sitting in the roughshod leather saddle, everything felt a little too big, like he was a kid getting a pony ride. Having to hike up the saddle stirrups did not allay small-man complex he was getting, and I¡¯m not a small man!

    The beasts themselves handled quite well. For such massive creatures, they were surprisingly tame. He supposed being around Orcs all the time, little was likely to unsettle them.

    Four of the dead Orcs made the trip with them; finding linen body bags large enough to fit them was a notable challenge. Giant old-timey linen body bags wouldn¡¯t be the craziest thing he¡¯d bought, but Jon couldn¡¯t rightly source them online since their story needed continuity.

    Instead, they found a small village on their trek south using the HAS. There they bartered for the sacks by selling off a weapon and some of the orc clothing. Each bread crumb was essential, like fabricating an Internet history.

    One orc, he chose Baugh, was now stuck in his macabre freezer of the dead. He¡¯d taken the time to cordon off and sterilise a large portion of his walk-in freezer over the last few weeks, sadly nothing was edible in there, but the autopsies would be worth their weight in gold. That was likely a literal analogy, but gold had depreciated a fair amount since it kept on getting mined in new worlds. Still, few currencies translated across the multiverse quite like precious metals and real coinage had once again become vogue.

    Lugging the dead around and onto the horses had ¡®mysteriously¡¯ fallen to the elf. She was not happy, but Jon¡¯s back was ecstatic. He hadn¡¯t the heart to kill any of the majestic beasts, so he settled for taking a blood sample. Once more, the task fell inexplicably to the elf, who could nonchalantly dismount metres away from a gigantic bucking horse after sticking a syringe in its hindquarters.

    Olympic gymnasts would envy how she stuck the landing. Giving rigorous applause, he scored her at nine-point-four-five and told her as much. She did not appear gratified.

    Bullets had been fished out, and cases retrieved. All the orcs¡¯ gear had been stowed with them, tied to the saddles and in the bags. The duo and their caravan were obviously conspicuous as they made their way toward a stone bridge. Travellers along the path gave them a wide berth and stared aplenty; mainly elves but a few humans milled by as well. The smell was pretty kak; he didn¡¯t blame them.

    The River Lea, it was called back home. Jon didn¡¯t know its name here, and Kay was also fuzzy on the details. Naturally, there were soldiers at a bridge checkpoint long before they would get to Elgelica proper. As such, they were immediately commanded to halt. Kay was ahead; the next stage of the plan depended heavily on her.

    ¡°Halt, in the name of the Elgelican Council! You two on those large horses, what business do you have in Elgelica. And what are you transporting?¡± He spoke in Common, likely for Jon¡¯s sake, but he addressed Kay. She responded in Elven, and Evy gave Jon subtitles.

    ¡°Good day, sir. My name is Kay Luren. We have news of great import to the Elgelican Council. As you see we come bearing the remains of a Mor¡¯Orc scouting party we encountered to the northeast. I suspect these worrisome tidings to perhaps be of import to the Thousand-Year City and surrounding Elven lands.¡±

    It was well-rehearsed. Jon¡¯s role required acting like a blithe idiot, something that came naturally. ¡°A thousand fucking years!¡± Jon muttered absently

    ¡°You there human! Is he your servant Luren-sun?¡± The guard remained speaking Common.

    ¡°Why yes, he is.¡±

    ¡°Please, tell him to open the sacks.¡±

    ¡°Jon, do as the honourable guardsman says.¡±

    She did not so much as turn around to make eye contact. Jon dismounted with a bit of effort, waddling on saddle-sore limbs. Minutes of drudgery passed as he opened each bag in succession and showed the contents to an armed and armoured Elven inspector.

    All the while, steely-eyed soldiers stood with halberds on either side of the bridge. On the other side of the river, he spied Elven archers upon humble but sturdy-looking crenelations. This was a clear choke point for any approaching military force.

    Finished with inspection the guard nodded to him and returned to address Kay.

    ¡°Thank you for your patience, Luren-sun. Our commander will likely wish to speak with you. Please wait here while we send word.¡±

    A runner was sent. Jon dawdled with the horses for a while before being escorted across the bridge and into the nearby fort. Fully dismounting, they were guided on foot indoors. Meanwhile, the horses and their burdens were attended to by guards in the courtyard.

    The stonework was finely maintained, and there was an aesthetic touch to it that one might not find in most medieval castles: minimalist in its simplicity and beauty. A flower or shrub here, an elegantly carved flourish across a door or plinth there. They made their way through internal corridors until entering a chamber overlooking the central courtyard and saw the horses being fed and drinking below. Their escorts took positions at either side of the door.

    An Elf showing the fine wrinkles of a middle-aged man sat at a desk. Jon guessed he was probably approaching his five-hundreds, but he knew fuck all about elf ageing, so he wondered why he bothered. Guards also attended the chamber to either side.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Welcome Luren-sun, your servant is welcome to wait outside.¡± He said in Elven gesturing to Jon.

    ¡°He attends to me and goes where I go, if that is not too much to ask. Commander, I presume?¡±

    ¡°You presume correctly, my name is Commander Virion Shalen. I am in charge of the Len River Keep. Your attendant may stay if you so wish. Please, sit.¡±

    She found a chair across from him, Jon waited, standing by the entrance just ahead of the guards. There was parchment, ink, and quills arrayed on the desk, but the commander had cleared enough space to offer some tea which he poured without asking into a prepared cup.

    ¡°Luren-sun, I must say, the men and I are quite mystified as to how a young female elf and her human servant came upon the remains of a Mor¡¯Orc scouting party and their mounts.¡± His sharp eyes betrayed his casual tone.

    ¡°I believe you are mistaken Shalen-sena. We did not come upon them. We slew them.¡±

    ¡°Please, ¡®sun¡¯ is more than sufficient.¡± Virion politely waved it down.

    ¡°Very well, Shalen-sun.¡±

    ¡°So, slew them, you say? I should very much like to know how.¡±

    ¡°Your disbelief is quite understandable, Commander. I shall elucidate. My aide and I are travelling adventurers from the mainland. We hoped to enter Elgelica to seek knowledge of my family¡¯s past. As with all Wood Elves, all roads eventually lead to Elgelica. We are, of course, no mere peasants, and I have the luxury of a Fire Mage in my employ. Might I allow him to demonstrate?¡±

    ¡°Oh, a fire mage! Why it has been quite some time! Mores the pity he is human: their lives are so ephemeral.¡±

    Jon watched Kay¡¯s face in profile carefully, and she didn¡¯t quite manage to avoid the frown. It came off in a manner that could be construed as detached pity, so it was probably fine.

    Virion continued, ¡°Please use the hearth in that corner.¡±

    ¡°Jon, demonstrate your power for Shalen-sun.¡± She kept her commands clipped, as they had practised.

    Virion pointed to a stone fireplace in the corner away from the balcony. It was not particularly majestic but pragmatically made to heat the room with a high chimney and excellent draw. The flames practically pulled back and up. Virion strolled over and stoked a bunch of coals, giving them a healthy radiance and raising the flames further; it was something Jon could work with.

    Gently, he found the slivers and pockets of ionization in the hottest parts of the crucible and began to churn them together in a vortex the resulting flames followed suit eventually contorting the convective flow as well. The upward convolution pulled more air from below, feeding the combustion and the fire rose a metre in a matter of seconds. Any more massive and the conflagration would threaten to burst from the grating to nearby wood and furniture. Jon felt the heat radiating on his face. The guards tensed for a moment eyes on Virion, who remained placid.

    ¡°My, my, he is quite skilled. I¡¯ve not seen a fire whipped into a frenzy so quickly before. Your servant is blessed with potency! A fortunate find indeed, Luren-sun! My earth magic is somewhat more mundane by comparison, good for pulling bows but little else.¡±

    ¡°You jest Shalen-sun, I¡¯m sure your prowess with an Elven Earth Bow is formidable. My earth affinity, by comparison, is less than that of a paltry minor mage.¡±

    Jon held her recurve bow, slung about his chest. She had handed it off to him when they dismounted, though the quiver remained with the horses. It was a stand-in quiver with very mundane looking arrows. Virion gave a polite laugh, the kind that was honed over many years and utterly humourless.

    ¡°Is that your bow?¡± He gestured to the item in question, and Jon wordlessly brought it forward in hand, bending at the hip, head down, and eyes to the ground.

    ¡°May I?¡± Asked Virion.

    ¡°Of course.¡± Replied Kay as she took a deliberate sip of tea. Virion stood and deftly reached out, plucking the bow from Jon¡¯s hands. He inspected it for a minute before continuing.

    ¡°Absolutely exquisite workmanship! The detailing and how these materials have been plied together, just what are they?! Is it wood? Perhaps a new metal? But it is light and shines like glass. Where did you receive such an artefact? Am I to assume this is your Seykho Bow?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it is indeed my first true bow. The draw weight is meagre as you no doubt realise. Still, it is a great honour to be bestowed such an item. Regarding the origin of its craft, however, I must remain deferential of for the moment. Should matters in Elgelica proceed smoothly, I would be happy to discuss more at a future date.¡±

    Virion tried his hand at drawing it a few times scrutinising the details of its fabrication and assembly, clearly as enraptured as Kay initially had been. That bow was likely better than any amount of gold he could have lugged through the gates.

    ¡°Of course, I completely understand.¡± He reluctantly gave the bow back to Jon and proceeded to sit. ¡°Let us conclude matters at hand then, so you may be on your way.¡±

    Kay then spun the tale of how they had happened upon the Orcs during their trek from the coast. Waiting until night, they prepared a trap. Swiftly with the use of Jon¡¯s fire magic, they spread a ring of flame in the half-light encircling the camp. The horses had been grazing a little ways off and bolted as the fire began. Then using the same method he had used on the hearth he had whipped the flames into a torrent, the orcs could not escape, and the air within rapidly grew poisonous.

    Indecision cost them their lives as they suffocated before trying to brave the blaze. Virion appeared to understand the threat of carbon monoxide poisoning and smoke inhalation even if unaware of the specifics. One body was burnt entirely to ash, and the others suffered partial burns marking their demise.

    Kay pinpointed the site on a map, should they wish to verify the area of charred trees and ground. True to all accounts, the earth and trees had been burnt just as described. The corpses were also singed, they were just dead already. Jon had had a merry time pretending to be a fire god the previous evening.

    Next, she explained that the Orcs were verified to be dead with the use of a thin armour piercing pike fashioned from a stiletto dagger. Jon conveniently produced the weapon for inspection. This had not been the first time he needed to explain away bullet wounds and the blade had a handy hollowed hilt with fastening holes to insert any old stick. He¡¯d tried boar hunting with it once; now that was good meat! Jon resisted the urge to salivate.

    Virion took this all in without much inquiry, he appeared in thought but not disbelieving. Afterwards, he sent them on their way. Kay graciously left the horses and their burdens in Virion¡¯s hands as a show of good faith. Good horses, especially Mor Horses, were hard to come by. The gifts left a few smiles on guards¡¯ faces as the pair moved off to Elgelica with only their packs and personal items.

    Virion recommended a good tavern where they were to mention his name upon arrival. He watched them go from his balcony, waving at Kay and bowing before moving out of sight. Jon just hoped the dominos had been given enough of a nudge.

 6.2 Virions Domino

    Virion watched the intriguing Elf and servant leave, traipsing up toward the main forest of Elgelica.

    He would, of course, send scouts to inspect the site. That Mor¡¯Orcs had been found on Elven soil was itself worrisome.

    They would have to increase scouting posts all along the East coast up to the Dwarven territories. Nay, should the report be accurate, it was expedient to inform the Highland Dwarves as well.

    Her servant being a fire mage¡ªand a skilled one at that¡ªlent credence to their story. Besting an Orcish troupe was difficult, especially outnumbered. Elves, having their homes intertwined with growing forests and plants, knew well the dangers of a burning cabin. A mage who thought to use poisoned air, instead of burning enemies directly, like a typical brute, was a menacing spell-weaver indeed. Kay Luren was verily fortunate to have such a great talent at her side; he would have been a much-prized male were he elven. Still, even half-breed fire mages could be of some use to the kingdom; if not for their stock, then for their service.

    Elves aged quite slowly compared to the mortal races, but Virion being an older elf himself, had an eye for such things. She was likely within her first century, perhaps even half-century.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Naturally, the Seykho Bow expressed as much, but that could be a lie. Female Elves were oft unnecessarily obtuse with age.

    Her youth, escort, and the outlandish craftsmanship of the bow spoke of powerful connections. Well-spoken and holding herself in proper comportment even for a foreign-born Elf; Virion had little doubt she was an individual of indispensable value to the people of Elgelica. She might well make a great matriarch someday.

    He watched the pair depart, leaving the valuable Mor Horses in his care. That spoke further volumes of Kay Luren¡¯s attachment to wealth.

    They wore unassuming clothes attracting little attention, which made their breadth of acumen even more glaring.

    The message was clear: powerful potential allies had sent their emissaries.

    He returned to his chambers and scrawled a note to be sent by pigeon to his sister in the council. She was still young, but these newcomers might assist her in rising to her new post. Elevating the family name was of great import after the recent passing of their matriarch. Fear not, Mother, we Shalen¡¯s prevail always. I shall cast my net for every opportunity, and your daughter shall pull your bow in due time.

 6.3 Beat on the Street

    As they approached the city, the forest starting just past the River Lea grew larger and older with each stride. The trees themselves grew taller and taller until seeing the top was a pointless exercise in neck strain.

    Entrance into Elgelica proper was far less eventful. A simple gate fee of 12 coppers and they were in without so much as a glance. Not riding giant brick-shitting horses helped, Jon supposed.

    The specific coinage was also a non-issue, by the time they had approached the city, Jon had sample coins from the looted goblins, orcs and an elven village. Scanning, production and delivery of perfect forgeries even with flaws and variations was a standard service in demand by all Divers. The cost came out of his own pocket¡ªand mostly back into it too¡ªand the metals were authentic, though not necessarily from the same universe.

    A presumed Earth mage at the gate checked all money passing hands. He saw the woman close her eyes with coppers and silvers in her cupped hands and nod when she was satisfied. Fake metal or hollowed forgeries were pointless anyway. Post-industrial worlds and up had stupid amounts of buying power compared to here. Such frauds also left trails, the precise opposite reason why they bothered in the first place.

    The interior of Elgelica was a majestic sight, and Jon knew exactly how he wished to experience it: slightly buzzed, high if possible, and listening to music. He got Kay to don her bone-conducting headphones, and he queued his favourite chill playlist.

    His earphones were subcutaneous, but hers could pass as some quaint wooden looking jewellery. He started bobbing lightly to the beats as he took in the sights.

    ¡°Jon!¡± She gave a sidelong whispered reprimand ¡°Is this entirely necessary?!¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re in, either we¡¯ve thrown up the right flags already, or it doesn¡¯t matter anymore. Now we enjoy life; we get busy living.¡± Smiling back. ¡°Feel the tune, and drink in the sights. This is one of the best pastimes from my world. Come experience it with me!¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    He looked about at the way the houses and buildings were intertwined with profuse greenery and trunks. And not small trees either, behemoth things the size of Red Woods rose into the sky. Wooden struts and stonework were fused to them as if they had been patiently laid as they grew, maybe they had. Terraces bloomed with bounteous spices, fruits, and vegetables. He was basically staring at the elven equivalent of high-rise architecture. With elves naturally more adept at climbing and deft footwork, living at higher elevations and building further up as the trees availed new real estate appeared to be a natural conclusion. Even now, he saw inhabitants busily traipsing about as high as six stories up. Gantries, rope bridges and wooden girders spanned every which way between buildings and jutting tree houses.

    A musical chorus kicked in, and they meandered towards the tavern Virion recommended.

    ¡°Is it wise to go where he offered? I felt rather interrogated at the keep.¡±

    ¡°Of course you were, did you see the size of the horses we were on!? And we definitely wanna be where he can find us, no cell phone, no post, no telegram, hell not even those cans with the string tied between them. Someone had to run just to tell him we were there!¡±

    ¡°I will have to search some of those terms later, but I will assume you intended for us to stand out. Why then go to the trouble of obscuring names, your station, and your true power?¡±

    ¡°People never want the whole truth outright. I mean you can try, but you¡¯ll likely get extreme scepticism and wholesale rejection on first blush. If you want someone to really listen to what you say, it¡¯s best to start with honest self-serving lies and tactful evasion.¡±

    ¡°You realise, you used ¡®honest¡¯ to describe ¡®lies¡¯ just then?¡±

    He ignored her and continued. ¡°Then they get the self-satisfaction of working for the truth and feeling good about their smarts. All the while you have to say less, and they think they¡¯ve got the better of you.¡±

    ¡°That is extremely twisted and conniving. Worse still, it makes sense.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m just being contrarian for shits and giggles. All you need to remember is that people only value what they pay for. Look at your life, and you will understand.¡±

    Kay stopped in her tracks for a moment, and Jon turned back inspecting her. She had that deeply thoughtful expression that meant she was taking what he said far too seriously.

    ¡°I will think on it Mas- I mean Jon.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t. I¡¯m hoping to be sloshed before sundown, and you¡¯re slowing the pace.¡±

    A new upbeat Irish jig type remix began to play, and it thankfully snapped her out of contemplation.

    ¡°As you wish Jon. Let us make for the tavern and ¡®live a little¡¯ as your legends say.¡±

 6.4 A Fucking Tavern

    The tavern was abuzz even on the outside. The building¡¯s storefront was trussed between two monolithic pines. They extended up too high for Jon to bother craning to see, but the tavern itself rose four stories. Each balcony was alive with folk engaged in banter.

    ¡®The Highland Cask¡¯ read a large oaken sign in Elven with smaller writing in English below. Mostly Elven patrons loitered at tables on the ground-level porch, save for the first dwarf he¡¯d seen up close. He was a burly fellow, or at least he hoped it was a man. His beard was long and well cropped with various rings and plaits woven into it. Most notable was the kilt and beret.

    ¡°Kay, I just need to confirm I¡¯m not going insane; that dwarf is wearing a kilt, right?¡±

    ¡°That is a Highland Dwarf; I¡¯m impressed you know of their garb. Regarding your sanity: I have feared the worst for some time now.¡±

    ¡°Shew, that¡¯s a relief. No wait, I¡¯m not sure if it is. That¡¯s a fucking Scottish Dwarf!¡± The ambient babble ensured his comment did not travel far. ¡°Lee? You¡¯re checking this, right?¡±

    ¡°Are you fucking kidding me! I wouldn¡¯t miss our first Elven city if you paid me!¡±

    ¡°Good, because I believe you¡¯re paid to do the opposite.¡±

    ¡°I do not know what you mean by ¡®Scottish¡¯. The dwarf likely hales from the Sharn Highlands up north. Please watch your tongue, Jon. Dwarves are known to enjoy brawling as much as drinking, and he does not appear to be lacking with the later.¡±

    Despite Kay¡¯s admonition, Jon was all kinds of amped right now, even if his body did feel a little strained from the journey. They pushed their way into the tavern and to the only crucial place right now: the counter where drinks were sold. Inside was no less bustling, elves, dwarves, and a few others he¡¯d need to identify later all moved about jovially drinking, eating and regaling each other.

    Jon shouted over the din ¡°Okay, the sacred duty lies with you. Drop Virion¡¯s name and get us food, drink, and a place to stay.¡±

    ¡°As you wish.¡± She shouted in reply. Moving to the counter with him, they emerged to meet the eyes of a buxom maiden in a dress and apron. She had roughly the same proportions as the dwarf outside, her shorter stature proximal to that of Kay¡¯s.

    The distinctions lay in that she could probably bench more than Jon, so if it came to blows, he would opt for outrunning her. Thankfully there was no beard; Jon aways counted the small miracles.

    ¡°What can I get yous?¡± Came her heavily accented prompt as they broke into view.

    ¡°Good day to you,¡± said Kay. ¡°My servant and I were recommended this establishment by Shalen Virion-sun at the Len River Keep. Might there be room and boarding available for us.¡±

    ¡°Virion ya say? And what might that young Wind mage be interested in you for?¡±

    ¡°He did not appear so young and mentioned himself to be an Earth mage, do we perhaps have the same Elf in mind?¡± Replied Kay.

    ¡°Good!¡± The matron gave an approving grunt. ¡°Ya, do indeed have the right man in mind. I was jus checkin¡¯ if¡¯n ya knew of him yerself. A¡¯ course, dropping a name ain¡¯t gonna get ya lower prices, ya know.¡±

    Kay glanced at Jon. ¡°We believe he may have need of finding us or sending a message, that is all.¡±

    ¡°Well, that serves us all perfectly fine! Would ya prefer a separate room for your servant then?¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°No, a single room with two beds shall suffice, if at all possible.¡±

    ¡°Fer how long, do ya intend stayin?¡±

    ¡°Jon typed seven days in chat,¡± said Lee in their ears.

    Kay was not currently wearing her ¡®magical¡¯ visor, as they were a bit too conspicuous. Besides, all that peripherally scrolling text was far too distracting and a little overwhelming for the girl. Most of her UI remained disabled¡ªa typical profile he defaulted to for pre-industrials. Kay glanced surreptitiously to see Jon tapping his right fingers at ill-timed tempos on this thigh; she had at least learnt the signature of him texting.

    ¡°Seven nights if you will.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll be two silver and twelve coppers per night then, with one meal provided at ya convenience. Payment upfront, if you would be so kind.¡±

    ¡°How many Elgelican coppers to a silver. Forgive me, I only know currencies of the mainland,¡± said Kay.

    ¡°Twenty four coppers to a silver, one hundred and twenty silvers to a gold,¡± said the Dwarven hostess.

    Kay paused, narrowing her eyes with suspicion.

    ¡°You¡¯ll n¡¯ere catch a dwarf lying about metal lass. Besides, if I lie about the one I lose on conversion with the others, don¡¯t I? A week¡¯s stay be plenty to fail a ruse.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me,¡± said Kay. ¡°I have not had the luxury of honest and honourable company for some time.¡±

    Is she talking about me? Definitely me.

    Kay was working fingers vigorously in calculating. Jon just pulled the seventeen silver and twelve coppers from his sack. He managed all the money inventory anyway.

    Kay had a personal section of rift storage allocated, containing mostly space for her bows, arrows and essentials. Technically the rift iris in her sack could translate on its rails to any place on the shelves, retrieving from Jon¡¯s section too. However, speed of retrieval was dictated by proximity, and Jon was also invariably quicker with the process.

    ¡°Wonderful!¡± The dwarf woman scooped up the coins from the counter, weighing them in her hands, eyes closed.

    While the barmaid did her testing, Jon turned to the side as if speaking to someone in the crowd. ¡°Lee, it¡¯s about time we added mathematics to the curriculum. Select some accessible gamified modules, nothing too overwhelming.¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡±

    Kay elbowed him in the side, she¡¯d cottoned on. ¡°Grandpa taught me numbers just fine!¡±

    ¡°If your math still has more numbers than letters, you¡¯re doing it wrong.¡±

    She opened her mouth to reply, but barmaid beat her to it.

    ¡°These coins are more than sufficient purity and weight. A pleasure do¡¯in business with ya. Ma name¡¯s Bretha. Ma daughter, Bren, will show ya to yer rooms.¡±

    Bren, a younger stocky girl, appeared from the back and guided them upstairs to the side of the bar area. Staying true to the family¡¯s genetics, she was built like an Olympic weightlifter. She was not particularly ugly, more like androgynous. The duo followed suit until the third floor where they were presented with a small three by four-metre room with dual bunks along one wall and a window looking out upon the back of the building. The girl then swiftly disappeared, and Jon closed the door.

    ¡°Lee, be sure to give mww.forgeries.div (Multi-Wide Web, diver domain name) a raging review. It¡¯s not every day you get your product to pass muster with a Dwarven Earth mage. Keep it low-key we don¡¯t wanna break any NDAs.¡±

    "Cool."

    Kay unceremoniously collapsed on the bottom bunk while Jon scanned the room. ¡°Master, for your reference this was quite an expensive inn. I know your wealth can sometimes make you oblivious.¡± She grunted and shifted on the bed, repeatedly trying to get comfortable. ¡°I fathom you¡¯ve permanently spoiled me with beds too. I dread the thought of sleeping here tonight, and yet this admission irks me further. Am I becoming just the sort of spoiled noble I loathe?¡±

    ¡°Trust me, Kay, you¡¯re just the right amount of spoiled brat I can respect.¡± He smirked at her. ¡°Which is to say you¡¯re exactly the recruit I deserve.¡±

    ¡°Truly Master, your ¡®deference¡¯ knows no bounds. So when do we get to that drinking and merriment you so desire?¡±

    ¡°Why thank you, Kay, you say the nicest things! We can get to boozing, just after we secure the room. I need infrared detectors on the door and windows, a pneumatic launcher with sensor buoy on the roof and we¡¯ll put a rift on that wall. And to alleviate your concerns, we don¡¯t need to sleep here, the semblance of normalcy is what we need. Rest assured your life will never be any kind of normal again, no matter what you do.¡±

    At the news, she tried to hide the self-satisfied smile as it arose. Jon hoped she fooled herself because that would at least make one of them.

    He set about the task with Kay¡¯s assistance and they rigged the room in no time. Afterwards, they made ready for the night¡¯s revelry.

 6.5 Sephas Domino

    Sepha Shalen scrutinised the tiny slip from Virion.

    Her personal council chamber was housed in one of the highest forest spires in the city. Her balcony looked out across the mighty boughs and trunks as windows and lamps began to glow, like so many fireflies in the dusk. The scale of the trees made the goings-on below them seem diminutive and inconsequential. Sepha loved everything it said about her city.

    On the other hand, she hated mail by pigeon, the minimal space on the parchment demanded minuscule writing, and even then it forced pragmatically curt prose. As such, the note read:

    <blockquote>

    ¡®Two persons of intrigue. Entered by way of Len River Checkpoint with slain Mor¡¯Orc scout party and their steeds. Connections to unknown powerful or wealthy group. One Wood Elf: Luren Kay (She seeks Luren family in Elgelica), One male human Fire mage servant. Likely boarding at Highland Cask. Ask about bow.¡¯

    </blockquote>

    Just what by the gods was she to do with this! Honestly, her brother could be incorrigible at times. She had actual business to handle in the council, and she wasted a whole day following up the last one of his little ¡®tips¡¯.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    The running of Elgelica was mostly about numbers and words on pages. None of the romantic cloak and dagger dross the bards often sung about, while Brother Virion seemed infatuated with such insidious things. She supposed he did join the military for good reason then.

    All the same, numbers and words were how she liked it, and some of the words she read did make her ears twitch in interest.

    ¡®Luren¡¯ hmm... they were a rather wealthy enclave a few decades back if I recall.

    Elgelica had a few fire mages on retainer, but more would always be welcome. It would be folly to build a city out of a forest without proper means to control and repel a blaze. The noble ranks of Elgelican Firefenders¡ªthough mostly Water Mages¡ªwere revered professionals and a cornerstone institution in the Thousand Year City.

    Moreover, why on earth did Brother think she would care about a bow? Obviously, she knew her way about one, all elves did, but she much preferred solving problems using pointy sticks with ink on them. The quill was mightier than the fletching and all that.

    The joy of negotiating for the servant contract would have to come later. She did not have nearly enough information on the elf to make any wasteful moves.

    Hopefully, the fools took the hint and lodged at the inn. Finding them otherwise was still trivial for Sepha¡¯s informants, but at the very least being handily found was polite.

 6.6 Ready to Mingle

    Jon gave his pep talk just before heading down with Kay. ¡°Alright gather near my young spring chicken. Our duty tonight is saying little while hearing a lot. Wear this.¡± He casually reached up to insert a hair clip facing forward among Kay¡¯s blond frizzy locks. Her hair was a natural curly perm that would make Goldylocks and anyone from the 80s jealous. Being springy and hard to manage, she often kept it in a loose ponytail. It had grown far longer over the weeks since they met, reaching to her hips. With all the food and probably excess magical energy coursing through her, it was little wonder.

    The proximity appeared to startle her, and she reached up involuntarily with slim fingers to grab his wrist as he fiddled.

    ¡°Sorry about that, just needed to ensure the camera was facing forward. My interoculars use new-fangled rift optics to capture what I see and augment it. You, on the other hand, are au naturel. This panoramic lens will give us a quaint video to attach to your audio. Keep the headphones on. Maybe we can start a trend; they don¡¯t look half-bad with the pointy ears. They aren¡¯t uncomfortable, are they?¡±

    ¡°No, Master.¡± She diffidently inclined her head in half-nod half-bow.

    ¡°Awesome. Lee, how we looking on the feeds?¡±

    ¡°Clean and pristine boss, get out there and mingle like some sick cunts!¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡°Consummate professional as always, Lee. Thank you for your vote of confidence. Now, back to you, my dear. Our goal is gathering all sorts of news and rumours. Anything big or small is valuable. People love talking, and they love it even more when you¡¯re buying.¡± He fished out two silvers from his bag and plopped it in her hand. ¡°Don¡¯t skimp, get the good-shit.¡±

    ¡°Master, this is too much. I could buy drinks for the whole tavern with this, the ¡®good-shit¡¯ as you say.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m hoping you will. Working a room that size is gonna be tough trust me. Buy them a drink, get some juicy gossip and politely move off. You got it easy. With a mug like that, two beers down and I would be confessing bloody murder.¡±

    ¡°Understood, I am to ask of news and rumours and pay with drink. Even so, is this not an excessive waste?¡±

    ¡°Remember what I said about my people, Kay. Information and knowledge is our true currency. You wouldn¡¯t believe how much we are willing to spend just for the chance at it. Look up particle accelerators when you have a moment. Besides, this is peanuts. New Dive profit margins are always sky high.¡±

    Kay gave more comprehending nods.

    Jon continued. ¡°Go out there and have fun; I¡¯m always a message or ping away. Follow Lee¡¯s advice if you have trouble, he¡¯s actually pretty good at this stuff.¡±

    ¡°I will do as you say then.¡± She bowed more formally and pointedly this time, likely trying to make up for the ruse they put on in public.

    ¡°Telephone wingman Lee to the rescue!¡±

    ¡°Shut up, Lee,¡± said Jon.

 6.7 Tavern Hustle

    Jon moved from lad to lass and sometimes he wasn¡¯t sure which. The tavern ale, even the good shit, hit like a brick shit-house.

    He had taken anti-hangover pills just prior, plus a heavy dose of a homebrew turmeric mix that tasted like street grime. Nonetheless, he seriously doubted their efficacy with the current dwarven paint-thinner ale he was drinking¡ªfucking dwarves and their drink.

    All the same, he had a job to do. And, he was a functional drunk; all his higher brain functions being reserved for imitating civility. Underneath, he was just a cold, calculating son-of-a-bitch: a human.

    Fortunately, he didn¡¯t need to remember everything. The data feeds would take care of that. Just the last few sentences would suffice, though lately, even that was proving to be troublesome as he got deeper in the drink.

    Jon stumbled upon an interesting conversation amongst some young elven farmhands about a new creature spotted in the skies these past few weeks. It was hard to catch sight of the beast as it often appeared suspiciously shaded the same colour as the sky¡ªa trick of the light perhaps or some unusual magic. Jon immediately found their observations extremely captivating.

    It often hid in the clouds too, and in Elgelican skies that was almost always possible. Jon was told to be on the lookout for a bulbous thing in the shape of a bull¡¯s scrotum. He retorted that perhaps two sidelong loaves or melons were an apter a description.

    The analogy had sadly stuck, and Jon was deeply troubled by the notion. The men attempted to allay his worried expression, saying it was always far off and may well be completely harmless. Unfortunately, deprecation of the ¡®scrotum beast¡¯s¡¯ threat did not alleviate the core of his concerns.

    Instead, he drifted off to the kilt-wearing dwarf. The character was decidedly at the top of Jon¡¯s hit list; however, he needed to be adequately pissed first. Somehow, anything less seemed like disrespect. So it was as he flopped down wordlessly in front of the bearded man. Feeling sufficiently stone-faced he passed a full tankard of ale to the dwarf.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Hiii,¡± he burped. ¡°I mean good day to you.¡± Jon gave a wobbly glance at the sky from the porch. Heavily obscured by the fuck-off big trees, it was night. ¡°Evening¡­ good evening. Bretha gave me the best Dwarven Ale she had.¡±

    ¡°Oh aye, I¡¯ve seen ya bin buyin for half the tavern, while the young elven lass be working the otha half. Mores the business for me family, so I thank ya for that. What might this here humble dwarf be able to help ya with.¡± He produced a hearty laugh.

    Jon, for the first time in quite a while, was a bit starstruck. Here before him was an honest to god, ale-drinking, bearded dwarf, with the Scottish accent and everything. No scratch that, this dwarf was literally from Scotland, a Scottish Dwarf. They didn¡¯t call them dwarf folk from whence he came, they were just folk.

    ¡°Please, may I know your name.¡± It was the most fanboy shit he had said all night. He was not the least bit ashamed.

    ¡°Aye that you can lad. Ma name is Bron Smith; just Bron be fine a¡¯course. None of those highfalutin elfish titles ya hear. Just Bron.¡± He admonished.

    He turned his head to the side, muttered under his breath. ¡°Oh, god, yes!¡± ¡®Murray¡¯ or ¡®MacDonald¡¯ would have been perfectly fine, but to snag the coveted ¡®Smith¡¯, he was on a roll!

    ¡°Please for the love of God, tell me you¡¯re an actual smith.¡±

    ¡°Aye, that I am.¡±

    ¡°Fuck, yes!¡± Jon stood, hands raised looking about as if he had just won a boxing championship. ¡°You hear that universe! The Scottish Dwarf Bron Smith is a smith! Goddamn it, you¡¯ve just made my night. Drinks on me here on out Bron, whatever you¡¯re ordering I¡¯m paying.¡±

    ¡°I dunae know what the gods¡¯ Scottish¡¯ be, but I take it you¡¯re enamoured of a sort then. I own the Cask along with me wife and the smithy out back, so I wasn¡¯t payin as such. All the same, yer welcome te covering the coin.¡±

    ¡°He owns a smithy too, dear lord, this is the best night of my life!¡± Jon was not fucking about! He downed his tankard and ordered another round for everyone nearby. ¡°Fuck my life, Bron. I¡¯m Jon Kelly, and I¡¯d love to know about you and your family. Please spare no details!¡± Again the dwarf bellowed a laugh, lounging back in his seat cradling his rotund belly.

    ¡°Well then Jon, sit back, and I¡¯ll regale you with a few o me choice tales.¡±

 6.8 Tavern Tussle

    Keya¡¯s task¡ªtrivial as she thought it might be¡ªwas Master¡¯s wish. And she strode into the crowd purposefully as soon as they hit the bottom landing.

    She was not used to so many people and found herself leaning heavily on Lee¡¯s wisdom. Some of the scenes she saw in Master¡¯s movies of ¡®house parties¡¯ also drew many commonalities.

    The people she met were all amicable, and she found herself drinking more of their purchased spirits than the other way around. Being so nervous she gulped down far more ale and wine than she ever thought she could handle.

    She chastised herself for this. Her duty, first and foremost, was to loose others¡¯ lips, not hers. To that end, she best not drink more than she offered.

    Albeit, it was all rather lovely tasting stuff and relatively weak to her mind, so after a while, she stopped worrying. There was no end of folk eager to talk to her, and Lee¡¯s guidance tapered off. He concluded in short order that she was ¡®hot¡¯ and there was no further need for counsel.

    The countless ways Master and Lee employed temperature in their parlance was quite vexing. Principally the words¡¯ hot¡¯ and ¡®cool¡¯ had a multitude of connotations. She desisted investigating which presently it was. The task at hand took precedence.

    Over the night¡¯s revelry, one particular brown-haired elf repeatedly followed her about the bar. Initially, a cordial engagement, the dapper man had shared little and asked many questions. This not being what Master had entailed of her, she had politely disengaged and moved away.

    Later that eve, he would insert himself into almost every group or exchange she had and often flip the enquiries back on her. ¡°Where do hail from Luren-sun?¡± or ¡°Tell us of your family and town, Luren-sun.¡±

    She would give mealy-mouthed responses each time, being as vague as possible. It was finally apparent she would have no peace with this man about, so entreated Lee to ¡®ping¡¯ Master to her.

    True to form Master appeared promptly at her behest, though the drink had evidently worn far more heavily on him. Perhaps he had moved on to whiskey or the like. Most folks were wisely warned off anything stronger than Dwarven ale, knowing his origins Master was likely not privy to such wisdom. He untactfully approached the brown-haired elf.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Helloo, kind sir.¡± He swayed a bit, finger on his mouth, no doubt holding back a belch. ¡°My mistress has informed me, that your persistence though admira¡ª admiram¡ª ad-mir-a-ble...¡± He paused again to find breath or perhaps bearings, ¡°...is discomfiting. Please be away.¡± It was surely a mighty feat of linguistics in Master¡¯s current state. His target, however, looked none too impressed.

    ¡°Foul human, distance your putrid visage from me this instant. These are elven lands, know your place, mortal!¡± The last word was spat.

    Master was sluggishly working over the escalation of events, but it was taking too long. So the elf shoved him away, causing Master to fall backwards on the wooden floor beams. Surprisingly, Jon managed one of the ¡®ukemi¡¯ techniques he had attempted to teach Keya.

    With the momentum of the fall and his slackened disposition, he performed a complete roll, back to his feet in one fluid motion. Keya had to admit fancy rolling on the ground was far more useful than she initially gave it credit.

    ¡°Fuck, that¡¯s gonna leave bruises in the morning. I fucken hate hard floors.¡± Jon massaged a shoulder in protest. Brown-Hair, who had failed even to give his name, was not done.

    ¡°You dare to tell an Elf, in the very centre of Elgelica no less, what he can and cannot do! I will have your tongue human!¡± The tavern talk was rapidly dying down.

    ¡°You¡¯ll do no such thing, Faelyn!¡± boomed a burly voice from the front of the tavern.

    The crowd parted about the Highland Dwarf from the porch.

    ¡°He was merely coming to the aid of his mistress. I can vouch fer that. If you wish to fight, you¡¯ll do it under Cask rules or nothing else. Those two have bought more drinks in one night than you have in a year. The only one fouling the air is you. And I¡¯ll hear of no damned retribution beyond these walls, or YOUR mistress will be the one te hear about it! Are we of an accord?¡±

    The brown-haired elf called Faelyn noticeably restrained himself. The Highlander undeniably had some clout within the city.

    ¡°Very well, under Cask rules it is then. We are to fight with no weapons or magic. If you win, then I will be on my way. If I win, you will leave me to my dealings with your mistress, Luren-sun, elf to elf, while you go pass out in a gutter somewhere till the morrow.¡±

    ¡°Jon, do you accept these terms?¡± Mediated the dwarf.

    ¡°Do I get a choice?¡± asked Master.

    ¡°Aye ya do, but ¡®tis the best option if ya wish ta avoid bloodshed.¡±

    This banter was aggravating Keya to no end. How dare Brown-Hair even think he could earn her favour by beating Master in a fistfight! And where was her opinion in all this? Unacceptable! It had to stop immediately, and she would put an end to it.

    ¡°No! Jon will not accept these terms,¡± proclaimed Keya, ¡°I will.¡±

 6.9 Terms and Conditions

    ¡°Can she do that?¡± Asked Jon.

    ¡°She¡¯s an elven woman, with the honour and duty of her retainer called into question. She can do whatever the fuck she likes,¡± replied Bron.

    ¡°I call this into question,¡± said Faelyn ¡°my terms stated ¡®if he won,¡¯ not if she did.¡±

    ¡°Aye that you did, but you failed to state who precisely would fight, nay thinking the lass would take it up. Surprised us all, I tell ya. You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m givin ya this much. Usually, terms go to the challenged, an I think I have the right of it since they¡¯re my fucken rules, and this is my fucken bar.¡±

    ¡°Our fucken bar, dear,¡± shot back Bretha at the counter.

    ¡°Forgive me, love. Our bar.¡±

    ¡°I must retract my challenge then,¡± said Faelyn, clearly more contrite by the second.

    ¡°Do that an I¡¯ll ban you from the Cask permanently. Faelyn ma boy, don¡¯ you come in here swinging yer cock about, and then slip it back when an honourable lady wants te show ya what for. Do ya mean to mock both the guests an m-, our bar?¡± He winked at Bretha. ¡°Let¡¯s hear it!¡±

    ¡°No¡­ no, I do not Smith-sun.¡± Faelyn thought for a moment, and the tavern was intensely silent. ¡°Very well, I will fight, but with one more term, if it pleases the Lady. The face is to be out of bounds. I wish not to mar the visage of one so comely and early in years.¡±

    ¡°I accept this term,¡± responded Kay instantly. She was rearing to go, and that was deeply worrying.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Then we have an accord! Lads, move the tables! Tonight¡¯s entertainment has arrived!¡± Bron announced, arms wide, to raucous applause and cheers. The tavern burst into action moving furniture.

    Jon was so drunk, he would probably lose a fight with a tree. But he wanted to pass out in a gutter anyway, so it was no huge loss. Kay, on the other hand, was a fucking monster this side of the rift, and they hadn¡¯t exactly gotten to the part where she learned how not to use magic. The ¡®Not-in-the-face¡¯ rule was a small mercy, Faelyn¡¯s body might last a bit longer than his neck and skull. To this end, Jon was furiously typing on his leg. Lee read it out over comms as he went.

    ¡°Jon says to¡­pull your punches, Kay. He says¡­ what the fuck, your typing is atrocious dude. You must be fucking plastered. He says ¡®pull them a lot¡¯, I think. ¡®Could kill him¡¯, ¡®aim for non-citicli areas¡¯ must be ¡®critical¡¯. Aim for non-critical areas. ¡®No chest. limbs and shoulders, OK.¡¯¡±

    Jon sighed and relaxed, that would have to do.

    He overheard Kay mumble ¡°Gods damned non-critical areas.¡± as she paced in the forming ring of tables. At least she was listening, and she looked stone-cold sober too. Intoxicating her was officially a dead strat in returning to the med-bay, that reminded him to retrieve his pack in safekeeping behind the counter with Bretha.

    He moved the selection arm to first-aid while he waited. There was no ¡®better safe than sorry¡¯; this idiot, Faelyn, was not fucking safe.

    The question was how few injuries he could sustain before the fight ended. The magic of this world gave zero fucks about orientation or leverage, that meant if Kay could lift one hundred and fifty kilograms on a bench, then she could punch a shit load too.

    She would definitely rigidify each fist as he taught her. Granted she was not warmed up or synced, but even half her power would be devastating. Hell, imagining dropping a few kilograms on his chest was making him cringe, and she might punch faster than the weight fell. Then taking the impact surface area of the two front knuckles into account, and he was really regretting teaching her proper form. In fact, the more time he spent thinking about it, the more that gutter was looking heavenly.

    ¡°Oh god, what have I done.¡± He cradled his head.

 6.10 Trading Fists

    Keya paced about agitatedly as patrons collectively moved their tables into the rapidly forming ring. The dwarf who oversaw the terms of the fight approached. His foul mouth and the wily look in his eyes explained why he and Jon had become such fast friends.

    ¡°We¡¯ve yet to be introduced m¡¯lady. The name is Bron Smith, just Bron if you please.¡± He gave a short bow.

    ¡°Good evening Bron, I am Kay Luren.¡±

    ¡°Let me be the first to thank you an your servant for the generous patronage you¡¯ve bestowed upon us this eve. An might I share a word of advice for the upcoming bout?¡±

    ¡°Please do so, Bron. I am young in years as Brown-Hair has already mentioned. I realise there is much I do not know.¡±

    ¡°Brown-Hair? I s¡¯pose his hair is brown.¡± Bron conceded.

    ¡°He, as of yet, has not shared his name with me. Had you not called him ¡®Faelyn¡¯ neither Jon nor I would know better. Until such a time as he deigns to give it, he is Brown-Hair.¡±

    ¡°The lout didn¡¯t even manage his name, and yet he pursues you so. Forgive me, lass, Faelyn is usually far better behaved than that. There is perhaps more afoot than we realise. Nought to do ¡¯bout it now though.¡± He glanced to where Faelyn was loosening his limbs in preparation. ¡°You¡¯re wise to admit your ignorance young lass, so let me share that Faelyn is a regular, both in the bar and in the ring. Your safest course is to concede quickly. He may go easy on ya, being a maiden n¡¯all, but it¡¯ll be no less painful.¡±

    ¡°He seems quite reticent, why would he not just concede himself.¡±

    ¡°The ring demands folk to provide at least a forthright attempt before bowing out. Honour and reputation are at stake an all that. Furthermore, Faelyn¡¯s goals may not be as apparent as they initially seem.¡±

    ¡°Many thanks, Bron, I will bear your counsel in mind.¡± She nodded, Bron reciprocating, and he moved over to Faelyn. However, she valued Master¡¯s counsel more. Keya also had no intention of throwing the fight. Master would not always be there to fight for her as he had with the direwolves, Gillian, and the goblins. Heavens it is that many already! No, it was time she attempted fending for herself. Few opportunities would be as safe as this, and Jon always encouraged testing.

    She ran through the sequence of merging her body with her mind through breathing and slow muscular flexion as she stood in place. The bar was no place for Master¡¯s posing series, so this would have to do. They had not yet ventured into means of removing her magic outright, and she feared not controlling it would only lead to using all of it.

    Even now she felt her magic inextricably suffused with her aura. Relinquishing control had never been a problem with harnessing items outside her body. There, her essence did not continually abide, so only retreat was required. Suffusing something and yet not using magic was an alien concept.

    She undertook to use but a twentieth of her potency. Restraint was a foreign notion as well, yet more achievable than outright annulment. To this end, she reached out with her soul to what she imagined to be a shallow lake of mana pervading all the world. Like sucking from a river reed, her vessel could only draw so much so fast. This time she made to choke that reed further, from a stream to a smooth trickle.

    Next, she prepared her hands as Master had taught. There were umpteen laws and principles she had yet to understand fully. Master was consummate in this regard so Keya could only follow as rote what he had instructed. In time she would extract every trickle of that knowledge from him so that she too could be depended upon.

    Starting with the skin on her knuckles, warding them from the ¡®contact forces¡¯ that would cut and tear at her fingers with each pound. Below she felt the myriad muscles, tendons and ligament of her hands. There were far more than she realised when first sensing her body. For now, the hands, wrist, and to a lesser degree arm were imbued. The wrists were emphasised in training; slackened when hitting would snap the blow off course and risk substantial injury. She had felt lesser mistakes against bags in the bunker and paled at what a failed magic strike could do.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Last were the bones. When initially instructed by Master, she began with them, thinking the process trivial. Master had a fit at the very thought. ¡®Bones are strong if well aligned; everything else is the weak part. Frontload your power. The atoms on your skin if well controlled can be one hell of a bulwark. Think stone skin, iron muscles, and bone bones. Oh, and wear gloves,¡¯ he advised.

    She retrieved the matte brown leathers at her recollection. They fit snug as if made for her, with a furred securing strap at the wrist termed ¡®Velcro¡¯. She had yet to pick Jon¡¯s mind as to how they made everything so damned well. They cobbled, perfectly mirrored, shoes for each foot gods be damned.

    ¡®Atoms¡¯ too were one of the innumerable perplexing figments Jon believed in. What was the point in convictions of things so small as to never be seen, beyond that what minuscule power could such things conceivably impart? She could not argue with results, however. Arcane as his science may be, results consistently marked Master¡¯s means.

    She readied her fists with the fighting ring fully formed, leaving only Brown-Hair and Bron inside with her. Bron riled up the crowd.

    ¡°Right, lads and lassies gather round! On my left, we have the fleet of foot and fast of fist Faelyn Perrel!¡±

    The crowd jeered and cheered as make-shift betting pools spontaneously coalesced in groups about the tavern, coins tossed in hats or sacks were passed around.

    ¡°And on me right is the mysterious and mercurial newcomer: Kay Luren, wishin te teach Faelyn some manners. And in her servant¡¯s stead no less.¡±

    The crowd certainly gave more cheers, but she had no doubt how the betting pools were slanting. Still, she caught Master handing a sizable amount of silver into a hat. That best have been in her favour, or she would show fists to more than one man tonight.

    ¡°Terms are as agreed upon, no magic, no weapons and no blows above the shoulders.¡± He moved in close between the two lowering his voice. ¡°Let¡¯s have a good clean fight, if¡¯n you don¡¯t mind. Faelyn, that goes doubly for you. Once a party concedes, or I call it, the fight is over, you hear?¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡± They replied in unison.

    ¡°Readyyyy! Begin!¡± Bron backed away, and the bout was joined.

    True to Bron¡¯s praise Brown shifted in quickly with a few choice jabs before backing from range.

    Keya failed even to register before it was too late. Aches on her side ribs and stomach bloomed as she flinched back. Fortunately, her midsection was already tensed and prepared otherwise Keya would be winded and collapsed already. She abhorred Master¡¯s toughening regime: forcing her to take blow after blow until her body learnt how to tense and deflect the strikes. Master had gone easy on her; she now realised. Keya would request harder punches when next they trained. The pain fuelled her rising rage, and she felt the energy of the hunt flood her body.

    Brown tested her attentions again with a lunge at her midsection she blocked with her forearm fending off the blow. His right came from her blind spot, but she had learned that much from Master¡¯s mock fights. She ducked under his swing and prepared to jab at his side. Just then, Master¡¯s restrictions came to mind: the torso was forbidden to her.

    Keya¡¯s flow temporarily halted, Faelyn delivered two sharp jabs to her right ribs and waist before leaping out again. Those strikes had not been child¡¯s play; a few more of them would leave her gasping on the floor. She had to end this soon, or he would. She dodged, wove, and blocked for a minute more learning the patterns of the man, if any.

    Despite his committal to the fight, he did not appear very engaged with her. A placid if not bored expression painted his features. Keya was no threat, having not even thrown a single strike. He kept a sequence of moves on repeat as if tutoring, or more likely baiting her: left lunge, right hook, and dodge back. A ruse for sure, but he also had little need of showing her more. His guard dropped outside engagements, arms hanging loose, and shifting at ill tempos on his toes. I am outclassed.

    All she could bet on was that he had no idea she actually wanted to hit an arm. Arms were naturally quite small targets, so conditions dictated she must force a block.

    The sequence came once more, and instead of dodging the hook, she blocked to get inside his swing. Here a strike at his chest was an attack he could not evade or retreat from. Predictably his left forearm came up to intercept her fist, and she delayed the hit, just so, to land on his arm instead of deflecting it. The results were¡­ dramatic.

    In the flow of combat, she was not precisely sure how much mana she drew upon. It was more than enough; Brown flew back and crashed into the tables behind him. The tavern went silent. The crowd was hushed, aside from Brown¡¯s pained groans, and Master who swiftly entered the ring to check on the poor elf. Prescient as always; it seemed he anticipated her failure and leapt in to clean her mess.

    She stared at her fists in shock, before slowly releasing her fingers along with her power. What am I? She gazed back at the widened stare of Brown-Hair sprawled against an upturned table. I cannot even beat a man properly it seems.

 6.11 Medic!

    Oh, thank fuck he wasn¡¯t dead! Being run out of town would be the shittiest of all outcomes, especially after meeting Bron Smith, the dwarven smith. Jon wasn¡¯t gonna get that lucky a second time.

    A rough glance at the depression in Faelyn¡¯s left arm and in Jon¡¯s expert opinion¡ªwhich it was not¡ªthe man¡¯s ulnar bone was broken. A clean fracture, he hoped. Evy was the next best medical expert he had. If things kept going this way, he was gonna need that ¡®saw-bones¡¯ specialist real soon.

    He had put in the request directly after rescuing Kay. The world, being a genetic golden goose, should entice many an aspiring researcher. Enough to jump in during quarantine hopefully.

    Bron announced behind him. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m calling it, the fight goes to Kay!¡± There were surprised murmurs and a few complaints. Bron shut them up quickly. ¡°There¡¯ll be no fucken whinin¡¯ about it. You wanted a show, and ya got something, I dare say, none of us ere seen. Three cheers fer the Calamitous Kay!¡± He led them in the cheering and then dispersed the crowd.

    Jon paid it no mind. He attempted visual and touch inspection, but Faelyn was having none of it.

    ¡°Keep your filthy hands off me human!¡± He likely meant it as a threat, but Jon saw ¡®wounded deer¡¯.

    ¡°Shut the fuck up and let me check and treat you. I¡¯m a healer.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m perfectly fine human. I¡¯ve no need for your pity.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky to be alive. I¡¯d have been happy to get the shit kicked out of me, but no! You had to go and piss off Kay. Rookie move son, now let me see that fucken arm. It needs resetting.¡± Moving the arm was a diversion; he pulled a stethoscope from his first-aid kit.

    ¡°Stop fucken squirming; I need to check your lungs.¡± He finally got the cold metal on the man¡¯s chest under the neckline.

    ¡°I shall remember this harassment human!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I get it. I¡¯m a piece of shit, you¡¯re amazing. Now let me work.¡±

    Brom moved close speaking low, ¡°Ya have a bit o¡¯ splaining te do Jon. Just what kind of strength does your mistress wield?¡±

    ¡°A question for a later date I¡¯m afraid Bron. Thank you for calming the crowd. I most certainly owe you one, trust me you¡¯ll not regret it.¡±

    ¡°Aye, I have a measure of the man you are. You shared drink and talk with me after all, so I¡¯ll let things lie for now.¡± He turned his attention to Faelyn. ¡°How does he fare?¡±

    ¡°Fucken lucky, that¡¯s how. Breathing appears regular and unconstricted. Maybe a cracked rib or two but the arsehole won¡¯t let me check.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t know of my breathing with that queer trinket! Just what kind of contrived healer are you?¡±

    ¡°The best goddamn healer you¡¯re likely to get. And say whatever the fuck you like, I know, and you know, your breathing is fine, that¡¯s all the knowledge I need. Say I¡¯m lying one more time. I dare ya, matter of fact I double dare ya!¡±

    ¡°Master! Use this; it¡¯s a healing potion.¡± Jon inwardly groaned.

    ¡°Master!? Healing potion!?¡± Bron reacted expectedly to the first part; the second was news to Jon too. Oh well, since Kay¡¯s ¡®little¡¯ display, it was best that attention shifted to him. He had home-advantage up Shit¡¯s Creek after all.

    Next, where the bliksem did Keya get her hands on a healing potion? Jon recalled the flasks of Gavin¡¯s he apportioned to Kay way back when they first met. They weren¡¯t labelled, so how the hell did she know.

    He ignored Bron¡¯s and Faelyn¡¯s shocked expressions.

    ¡°Kay, you¡¯re sure it¡¯s a healing potion?¡±

    Kay had since realised her blunder and hesitated before continuing. ¡°I-It is. I am sure, I¡­ checked.¡± Kay wouldn¡¯t lie, and the way she enunciated ¡®checked¡¯ was laden with hidden meaning. Just how much diagnostic power did her magic have? He¡¯d check with her later.

    No way about it, Jon had slipped up. There was always something. He¡¯d clean forgotten about those donnerse flasks; they would need to be sampled too.

    ¡°Hold up on the potion just yet. I¡¯ve gotta set his bones.¡±

    Bron spoke. ¡°Jon, if tha truly is a healing potion then... what kind of powerful folk I¡¯ve gone and mixed myself up with?¡± It was quite heart-rending seeing that paled expression on the dwarf.

    ¡°You¡¯ve nothing to fear Bron. We come in peace, and only wish you live long and prosper.¡± He gave the prerequisite sign.

    ¡°Yo Faelyn, I¡¯m gonna need you to lie down for a bit.¡±

    ¡°You expect me to prostrate my self on this dirty floor?!¡±

    ¡°On a table is fine too. I just need you in a position where you won¡¯t move too much to make alignment easier. Bron would you be so kind? I promise it to be educational!¡± With much fuss, they got Faelyn on a broad oaken slab with his head bolstered on someone¡¯s coat.

    Impromptu medical care was the night¡¯s second instalment of entertainment. The stress and adrenaline of prior events had thankfully sharpened Jon¡¯s senses. He would be able to manage this operation and then crash in the Bunker.

    First, he the felt and prodded to ensure the rest of the arm was fine. Jon also asked Faelyn to move his fingers. Everything else appeared in order.

    Satisfied, he stuck his hand through the rift in his bag and produced a broad white over-sized bangle with countless rods extending out of it. Each rod was as thick as a pencil, but half the length and there were five encircling rows of them, making the bangle more of a hand length sleeve bristling with outer pins. The interior was unobstructed but holes extended through the bracelet for each mounted rod. The inside diameter could freely clear a fist or any particularly muscular arm up to the bicep. ¡°This will feel cold and a bit weird, so don¡¯t freak.¡± He slicked the limb up to the shoulder with medical gel, and Faelyn pulled a sharp breath as Jon touched skin. Afterwards, he slipped on the cylinder. The rods engaged, pushing through the bangle and dropping rounded tips onto the dermis. They contoured to the forearm¡¯s cross-sectional shape, the rods outside undulating gently as he guided it up and down the limb.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    What everyone else did not see was the ultrasound image fed to his HUD. The precise acoustics of the cylinder allowed for higher imaging resolution, and the data centre back home stitched the scans together. Each roller delivered localised ultrasound giving him a three-dimensional view. ¡°You have a fractured ulnar bone as I suspected. The break looks clean.¡±

    ¡°Giving it a name will do nought, human,¡± retorted Faelyn.

    ¡°Knowing is half the battle, accurate knowledge more so. This is treatable without surgery. Again, you are lucky because surgery is something I am not equipped to do. Mind you I¡¯d try anyway, but now I can guarantee you¡¯ll be able to fire a bow again.¡± That got the fucker¡¯s compliance.

    A hole in the centre of the cylinder, between the rods, allowed for the next step. Rummaging in the med-bag produced a rift syringe. It looked nothing like a traditional syringe; just a slim stylus with some buttons on the side and back, and a hollow silver ringed tip: the rift. A dispensary back in the med bay got the anaesthetic dose ready. Doses were prepackaged with syringes in vacuum-sealed cartridges. No mess, no fuss, and his stock was newly replenished.

    ¡°This will sting a little at first, but it is medicine to remove the pain. Essential before I start moving the bone back in place, you understand?¡±

    Faelyn acquiesced. Inserting the syringe-stylus through the designed hole in the rodded cylinder; he aligned it with the fracture site. The rift activated and a needle pushed through and pierced the skin, injecting right into the break-site to properly bathe both broken ends. Sitting back, he waited for the drugs to kick in.

    ¡°I smell strong spirits,¡± noted Bron.

    ¡°It¡¯s the medical gel it has high alcohol content, cleans wounds and prevents them from going septic. I have plain rubbing alcohol too, but the device you see needs to slip freely on the skin.¡±

    ¡°Cleans wounds, huh? I did nay know that.¡±

    ¡°There is likely more that Jon knows than all of Elgelica combined,¡± weighed in Kay.

    ¡°Lay it on thick, Kay,¡± said Jon glancing at the girl and smiling.

    Guiltily, she averted his eyes.

    He turned back to the patient. ¡°Faelyn, my fair-weather fighter, how¡¯s the pain?¡±

    Faelyn looked down with incredulity. ¡°Mostly gone, I could scarcely believe my arm broke if I were not seeing it.

    ¡°Okie dokie. Please keep your arm in this lifted neutral position while I work.¡±

    The arm ready, Jon engaged the pneumatic functions of the cylinder pins. They simultaneously got to work pushing and prodding at the break site. The ¡®magically¡¯ moving machine elicited a few awe-filled gasps, and one from Kay no less. Looks like she¡¯s not immune to mind-blows just yet. In seconds the device expertly manipulated both broken ends back into position. He watched the repositioning on ultrasound.

    ¡°Please keep your arm very still we¡¯ve one more step. I¡¯m going to slip on the cast. Kay, could you come here and hold?¡±

    Kay gently held the arm and cylinder in place as the pins retracted. Jon retrieved a tubular sleeve like that of a long shirt arm and slipped it on beyond the elbow. Fully in place, it hooked around the thumb like a fingerless glove. The cylinder pins reengaged on the break site.

    Finally, he pulled out an aerosol can of quick-setting foam and pumped up the sleeve like a tire tube. Pressure from the pins would ensure exact support and positioning as the cast rigidly set. A curing countdown auto-started in his HUD: Lee¡¯s handy work. Silent and attentive when the mic-man needed to be. He owed his partner more than a few beers when he got back.

    ¡°Awesome,¡± The sigh was more for himself than anyone else. ¡°once it hardens as a cast, you¡¯ll need to leave it on you until the bones have properly healed. That¡¯s about one to two months for humans, but I¡¯m not so sure for elves. You¡¯ve lighter bones so maybe less. Don¡¯t bloody use it heavily for a while after that you hear!¡±

    Bron asked, ¡°Why the blast do ya have all these trinkets in your bag, Jon? Were you expecting someone to come to harm?¡±

    ¡°Well Bron, you¡¯ve only just come to know me, but as a rule, I have just about everything and more in my bag. Don¡¯t question it; you don¡¯t want to open that can of worms.¡±

    ¡°He does not lie,¡± confirmed Kay.

    Faelyn was looking a little drugged up just then; he hoped Evy got the dosage right.

    ¡°What by the gods is a ¡®can¡¯?¡± Asked Bron.

    ¡°¡®Tis a thin metal jar for keeping food,¡± she explained.

    ¡°Do you eat worms then?¡±

    ¡°I-I do not know.¡± Kay got lost in thought.

    Bron threw his hands up in exasperation.

    Jon wasn¡¯t in the mood to explain. ¡°Alright, hand the potion over.¡± Kay plopped it into his outstretched hand. Best to get this out the way while they waited. ¡°I take it potions are rare around here.¡± He uncorked the flask and sniffed.

    Bron replied, ¡°aye, you might say that, more like legendary though. The means of making true magical elixirs be lost to time. Apothecaries these days dabble in simple salves and tinctures.¡±

    ¡°You were aware of this Kay?¡± She nodded sombrely. Divulging such a trump card was far from ideal, but it was hers to offer. Jon would not deny such wishes, especially since she was cognizant of its gravity.

    He apportioned a small sample in a glass vial. It was a liquid with slight green murkiness to it, like water with excessive algae. He promptly switched the rift to the mass spectrometer in the Med Lab. Pushing through, he lodged the vial securely in the receptacle. It took a further few minutes to return initial results: a dilute water solution of some hydrocarbons and a few proteins, harmless on first glance. Well, there¡¯s nothing for it, he searched Kays eyes for surety in her assessment.

    She swivelled her ears forward and nodded.

    ¡°Here goes nothing,¡± he sighed and took a swig. It tasted bland and slightly grimy. Jon was the veritable food taster for this new world, as such drinking and eating shit he thought relatively safe was part of the job description. He only realised how much he trusted Kay in the afterthought. That was not like him at all.

    ¡°Lee, please eyeball my bio-feed. Let¡¯s see what the fuck we got here.¡± Lee could guide Kay in returning him to the capsule if shit went sideways, and he could puke his guts right there and then if he wanted to. Jon considered himself a pragmatic bulimic when the need arose.

    ¡°Who¡¯s Lee?¡± was Bron¡¯s inevitable question.

    ¡°My spirit guide.¡± The response was either too stupid or too esoteric that it prompted no further questions.

    Another HUD timer was initiated to track the potion¡¯s efficacy.

    The setting of the cast finished first, and in the interim Jon inspected Faelyn¡¯s ribs. Some bruising aside, the elf was no worse for wear. The same lightness of frame that sent him flying likely softened to impact too. Swings and turns supposed Jon.

    It was around this point that Jon realised everything was feeling a lot clearer and that he needed to take a leak something serious. He rushed to the thankfully vacant outhouse just in time. ¡°Lee, what the fuck is my blood-alcohol level doing?¡±

    ¡°Ain¡¯t there a rule about talking while you go?¡±

    ¡°Extenuating circumstances.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s off a cliff then. I¡¯d say you¡¯ve found an instant cure for intoxication. Side-effects may include an uncontrollable urge to piss your liver out.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Lee. Be sure to write that on the label.¡± Walking back to the bar as he spoke. The night air breeze in the backyard was cold on his skin. Bron and Kay turned as he nimbly strode up.

    ¡°What was tha all about?¡± Asked Bron.

    ¡°Alcoholic emergency, it appears I¡¯m sober now.¡± Turing to Kay. ¡°Whatever this bullshit juice is, it¡¯s probably not deadly. Offer it to Faelyn if you want Kay, it¡¯s up to him if he wishes to refuse.¡±

    Faelyn appeared to have been observing Jon¡¯s testing, and he took the concoction without complaint. Brave, stupid or something worse, Jon was unsure.

    Faelyn took a sharp breath as the supposed potion took effect, and Jon rescanned the bone break just to be sure. No new miracles occurred; the fracture still showed clearly on the scans. Any speed up in healing would probably be measured in days, that was bullshit enough. They sent the wide-eyed Faelyn off with his arm in a sling and a promise for regular checkups. Test subjects were valuable after all, but elf boy didn¡¯t need to know that.

    At last, they turned in for the night. Retreating to their room and slipping back to the comforts of the Bunker. Any more problems that might come of the night¡¯s events were for future Jon to worry about.

 7.1 Hair of the Dog

    Keya awoke early; they had not slept in the tavern, as promised. <em style="letter-spacing: 0">He rented an expensive room for a week just to have the semblance of normalcy, and we are not even using it. Why would they, when the opulence of his fantastical manor was but a magical door away?

    The rugged outdoors of the Mor¡¯Orc camp was a distant memory. Although the sleeping sacks were magnificently warm, little would forevermore compete with the comfort and safety she felt in these quarters. Her bows hung on the wall, and plentiful books packed shelves. It was a place where her mind bloomed with new possibilities each day, and where she awoke from dreams only to live them: home. The warmth that word imparted upon her heart was almost too much to bear.

    Jon knocked at her door and roused Keya from contemplation. She anticipated being far worse for wear from all the drink and fighting, but it appeared her new-found vitality extended to rough revelry as well.

    They broke their fast with simple porridge in the bunker. ¡®Simple¡¯ did not mean what it once had; the porridge was perfectly salted, buttered, and sweetened so as to be fit for a king. Master had a practised hand in the making of it.

    The blunders of last eve, however, were ponderous in the air between them.

    ¡°So, no hangover for you too then?¡± he remarked.

    ¡°It is as you say. I appear to have entirely sobered prior to our return. Though my magic is suppressed here, indulging in spirits appears to be a short-lived and trivial matter. I take it the potion has prevented similar distress for you?¡±

    ¡°Abso-fucking-lutely!¡± Master consoled her with a small smile. ¡°How did you know what it would do?¡±

    ¡°I enveloped it with my aura one afternoon and sensed the same verdant rejuvenating energy of my magic. The conviction was strong, though I cannot attest as to why. Knowing of some ancient alchemical legends, I deduced as much. The other flask, though I can sense it, feels quite contrary; I do not know what it does.¡±

    ¡°Warm, fuzzy feelings and guesswork, huh? If I didn¡¯t have firsthand experience of the weird synesthetic sense of magic, I might be madder. Kinishinaide; no harm, no foul.¡±

    He need not have been so forgiving; she understood the depth of her failure. ¡°I am truly sorry Master.¡± She tugged on her mug of coffee on the polished counter. ¡°I failed your expectations in many ways last night, or perhaps worse, I met them.¡± She slumped her head.

    The usual clang of bowls and cutlery could be heard as Master washed up and dried things. The duty was alternately shared over the days¡ªmerely another of the untenably equitable customs she had yet to deserve.

    ¡°Have I ever told you about the greatest heroes of my world?¡±

    ¡°Have you not shown me their movies?¡±

    Master scoffed. ¡°No, I mean our real heroes. Not the sensational crap we entertain ourselves with.¡±

    Keya shook her head.

    ¡°My people are a varied bunch, but among their achievements, one of the highest honours is to discover something new. As you might to some degree be aware, we are exceptionally good at preserving and growing knowledge over many generations. Much in the same way, Elgelica has planted and nurtured trees, slowly building upon what has come before.

    She nodded.

    ¡°It¡¯s an effective strategy, but, at some point, it becomes harder and harder to make any noticeable growth. Like the trees at the centre of the city, broad and stalwart as they might be, their annual change compared to the periphery is far less noticeable.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°That said, I recall one such notable change in years past; notable on our ¡®mature trees of knowledge¡¯ that is.¡±

    He pulled a drying towel from the rack. Keya was yet to establish whether she was being reprimanded or edified.

    ¡°We called it the Higgs. You see, such changes to our knowledge are so important they are named, titled after the hero or group of heroes that first divined the nature of the thing. It would then take many more such great men and resources to confirm that the knowledge was indeed accurate. This could take decades, and the initial diviners may well have passed on by then. In this case, we were fortunate and most the team, though advanced in years, were alive to partake in the joyous occasion. Videos of the event still exist, so you could witness it yourself if you wish.¡±

    Keya idly sipped while tracing patterns on the marble countertop. These people fought for knowledge instead of glory, interesting.

    ¡°One such commentary always sticks in my mind though. A man remarked that being right after all these years would be wonderful, but what would truly make him and his colleagues ecstatic would be to be wrong in some way as well. Why do you think that is?¡±

    ¡°It makes little sense to me, Master. Surely, being wholly right is the superior outcome.¡±

    He nodded understandingly, ¡°you learn less from being right, Kay? And in a society were the barest inch of new understanding is celebrated, the hope of fault is prided over the honour of rectitude.¡± He stared off into the distance, which was not very far underground. ¡°You are going to make mistakes, Kay, just like me. What happened last night was as much my fault as yours.

    "Furthermore, it was, is, and will be inevitable. What sets you apart is whether you treat failure as a waste or as a resource. If you know more today than yesterday, then it was no loss. Simply repeatedly ask yourself: ¡®What have I learned?¡¯ Do this, and I swear on my life you will never fail me or anyone else. They may say otherwise, but do not believe them.¡±

    ¡°I find that hard to accept, Master. I feel you should be harsher with me. How will I learn if I am not punished for my mistakes?¡±

    ¡°Ah, I believe you are mistaken, Ms Ces. I have, in fact, given you the harsher path.¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± He has? How? Why? Thoughts and feelings were hard to put into order just then.

    ¡°Finish your coffee; we got places to meet and sights to people.¡±

    They readied for the day and exited the rift in their tavern room. Making it to the ground floor, Bretha called them over. The bar area was eerily vacant compared to the bustling crowd the previous night. ¡°Ya got a message dears, from the lady Sepha Shalen of the council.¡±

    Jon spoke. ¡°Huh. I assume any relation to Virion Shalen is ¡®utterly coincidental¡¯.¡± He examined the sealed scroll absently.

    Bretha replied, ¡°¡®Utterly coincidental¡¯, I¡¯m sure. Although after your little show last night ¡®Master¡¯,¡±

    He flinched at the sound, and Keya looked for a barrel hide in.

    ¡°I expect a lot more coincidental letters. We¡¯re not a messenger service, you know!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, tell that to the Shalens.¡± Casually, Master slipped Bretha another silver, and with a practised swipe it was gone. They turned away to find a corner to read.

    Unceremoniously Master cracked the seal, and then mockingly held the scroll up like an announcing minstrel.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°Dear Luren-sun, blah blah blah.¡± His voice was a melodramatic pitch higher, with feminine affectations. ¡°I¡¯m a council member you know! We¡¯re gonna meet at the Council Spire so I can, like, impress and intimidate you, LOL. Please don¡¯t rush, but you totally should. I¡¯m gonna make you wait anyways though. Your servant is like completely unimportant, but he should tag along, you know, just in case. Anyways, super stoked to meet you, we gonna like totally be BBFs. Signed Queen Bee, Sepha.

    ¡°PS. You can find me at the Council Archery Training Grounds; it¡¯s like a complete coincidence. What the hell, right? Bring your bow.¡±

    </blockquote>

    Keya wretched the scroll from him, completely incredulous. ¡°There is no way in the realm the letter is written so!¡± She unfurled the parchment to confirm. It was¡ªto her relief¡ªwritten in elven with all the airs and pleasantries associated with an elf of a high-born station. Albeit Jon¡¯s content summary was frustratingly accurate.

    ¡°This Sepha chick, whoever she is, is perfect. Sounds like negotiations are gonna be a bitch though, and I hope she¡¯s got enough pull. Madam Bretha,¡± he called across the mostly empty room; some patrons had yet to notice the night had come and gone. Keya had to admire their tenacity. ¡°Please tell me that Sepha Shalen is a powerful council member of ambition.¡±

    ¡°Nay, she be the newest and weakest. Ambition aplenty, I suspect,¡± said Bretha.

    ¡°Eh, I guess I can work with that,¡± said Jon. ¡°Thanks a bunch, Bretha. Might we bother you for that meal now, I¡¯m still hungry for some reason.¡± The last part he conceded to Keya alone, she could eat a little more too she realised.

 7.2 Negotiations

    The archery range was scenic, unnecessarily so, thought Jon. Along the Elgelican forest-floor trees had been planted in a rectangular formation allowing for a field to extend between them with straw targets at the far end. It stretched almost a kilometre in his estimation. The Council spire rose behind them supported by some of the most magnificent pine behemoths in the city.

    The exquisitely beautiful and dressed to the nines Sepha sat with Kay at an ornate table on a pavilion overlooking the exercises. Jon stood further back behind Kay in his capacity as a ¡®servant¡¯.

    Sepha appeared to be a young elf as well, although her hair had prematurely greyed. A suspected genetic condition Jon noted quite common among the swath elves he had witnessed in the city. Who was he kidding, it looked sick as hell. Girls bleached their hair grey all the time back home. Done up elegantly with several pins and sparkling clips, the hair alone appeared an intractable geometry problem. To complement this, she wore a bejewelled gown and intricate jewellery, almost all silvers, offset by white fabric. She certainly dressed to impress.

    Hopefully, this was just standard procedure for guests or regular garb for her; otherwise, it was utterly wasted on Jon and Kay. They wore the simple plebeian looking grab they always did in the field. Comfortable, easy to move in, and offering far more protection than anyone would suspect.

    The twenty or so bowmen practising in the field were mostly shooting at their own pace. One at the end, however, was going for a forty-five degree shot to demonstrate his range. He drew back, and the glinting steel longbow arched to his will before swiftly releasing. The arrow arced majestically through its apex before hitting a target at the very back of the range. The woven straw disk marked out a distance of 700 yards which Lee converted to probably 640 metres.

    Pre-industrial measures always varied from kingdom to kingdom, even town to town. Furthermore, different crafters in the same village often used custom measures, devised in their own shops. It was enough to give any technophile cold sweats: no unit standardisation, and no interchangeable parts. All mechanisms and structures were custom-made, and any replacements or repairs had to be purpose-built. Jon had repeated nightmares about it. Repairing some worn and rotten watermill, he would ask, ¡®You got any spares?¡¯ Onlooking villagers would shrug aimlessly to each other. He shivered, it¡¯s in the past, Jon. You have a well-equipped machine shop now.

    Anyway, the target was about that far. The forest provided exceptional wind shielding, so Jon supposed this shooting range helped with getting your eye in. The shot was still super impressive though, like the best English Longbowman shot ever, better even. He would need to get the arrow¡¯s weight to determine the energy of the shot and then work backwards to find draw weight. He need not have bothered. Sepha was all too happy to boast about it.

    She spoke in elven, so Jon saw subtitles above her head. ¡°As you can plainly see, Luren-sun. Elgelican Earthbowmen are indisputably the best bowmen in the world.¡± She kept on giving sidelong glances to him as she spoke. He¡¯d have given her his number if this was just about any other situation. ¡°With a draw weight of around one hundred and ninety pounds in our main forces,¡±

    Lee again posted converted units in HUD chat: ¡®86 kgs¡¯, and Jon¡¯s resisted an audible sigh of satisfaction. Thanks, mic man Lee. Few things riled him up more than Imperial Units. He would have thought the Americans would convert to the sacred Metric System after joining the rest of the multiverse; he thought wrong.

    ¡°¡­there are few to none who can match our reach or piercing strength. None of the mortal races have the time to hone their skills as we do, and none of the immortal races, beyond elves, have the inclination. Of them, the artisans of Elgelica are peerless in the crafting of the Elgelican Steel Earthbow. So this quaint forty-pound trinket of yours,¡± The recurve rested on the table between them. ¡°while quite intriguing in design, is more a child¡¯s toy than a weapon of war you understand.¡±

    Kay replied, ¡°forgive my impertinence council member Shalen-sena, but there are far more elves otherwise blessed in magic than Earth. What of your Windbowmen? They use strength alone to pull their bows, do they not?¡±

    Nice save, Kay. The little grey haired bitch, lead with Earthbows to downplay the recurve¡¯s value.

    ¡°You are far more informed than I anticipated Luren-sun. Why yes, normal bows for hunting and the like are used and perhaps the Windbowmen might find your curiosity a trite more useful.¡±

    God-dammit, this woman is insufferable.

    Lee guided dialogue on comms; the volume was as low as possible to avoid audio leakage to their acutely hearing hosts. ¡°Kay, inform her bitchiness that we can make at whatever poundage in whatever material she damn well pleases and beyond.¡±

    ¡°Gratitude for your indulgence in my query, Shalen-sena. Might I note that this bow, built for my meagre strength, might also be made for any poundage you desire and out of whatever materials you wish. Should your bowmen prefer metals that too can be arranged.¡± Jon was extremely thankful that Kay was doing the talking.

    ¡°Why that would be something to see! A better bow made outside of Elgelica!¡± She clapped her hands lightly together in that cringing way which only barely covered for her veiled insult.

    ¡°Am I to assume your kingdom has many elves then?¡± Ah, the inevitable loaded questions had begun.

    ¡°Dodge the question,¡± barked Lee, ¡°cry confidential.¡±

    ¡°I am afraid the nature of who we represent is a fairly sensitive matter to be discussed in the open like this.¡±

    ¡°I completely understand.¡± It was probably the first true thing Grey-girl said since their meeting began. ¡°Shall we retire to my council chambers for more detailed talks then?¡±

    Kay agreed, there was only so much talk of bows even elves could manage. Colour me surprised! Jon followed a few paces behind as they moved with an entourage of bodyguards toward the spire.

    Dreading the climb he was surprised to find the spire had very simple elevators scaling the height alongside stairs at a reasonable clip. He would have to inspect how they did it at a later date. For the moment, attention was a resource he couldn¡¯t afford to spend too liberally.

    If he thought the Len River keep was fanciful, the council was positively ethereal. Towering stained glass windows were plastered up its front facade. Constructed facing South toward the Thyme River, the glazed scenes of forests and innumerable elves were depicted in all sorts of elfy activity. The orientation allowed the sun to cast mosaic hues of greens accented with other floral and fruity tones. The lengthy artwork stretched between two monolithic pines from the ground up, for many floors. The building was framed by four such equidistant living pillars of wood.

    Building for elves was more bonsai than Burj Khalifa. They used expertly carved stone and wooded plinths as crossbeams between the trunks. And each structural member had buffered space to expand as it grew with time. Simple wood planks would seal these gaps, the whole project was an exercise in continual maintenance, replacing swollen or shrunk parts as well as gradually guiding the wood where to grow. The elves were not so much architects, as the worlds most patient gardeners.

    Behind them stone reliefs framing the stairs depicted events. With each floor, the stone looked more pristine and newly polished. Supposing they carved them as the building grew, and the depictions were accurate, then it served as a history of Elgelica in stone. All in all, the site was going on Jon¡¯s Weed List, getting baked in here would be a trip to remember.

    Sepha, her guards, Jon and Kay made it to a midway floor and crossed the stair landing to the back of the spire facing away from the stained glass. Through a delicately carved wooden door, their group entered a room with a long table and a balcony overlooking the range they just recently witnessed.

    Guards found their stations both outside the room and, a select few, inside as well. The doors were closed behind them, while Sepha busied herself with making tea at a nearby bar area.

    ¡°Would you like some Cha, Luren-sun? A trader from the perilous Silken Route has recently brought some fine wares from our cousins in the Far East.¡±

    ¡°I would be honoured, council member Shalen-sena.¡±

    ¡°Oh, please call me Shalen-sun. Pleasantries are for public. Appearances can be useful, but behind closed doors, I find they impede discussion more than facilitating it.¡±

    She switched to Common. ¡°You two would know much of this, would you not?¡± She gazed directly at Jon as she said the next part. ¡°Perrel-sun, please make your presence known.¡±

    And Faelyn walked in from an obscured archway. His arm was still in the sling and cast fashioned for him the previous night. Aw, shit!was Jon¡¯s most productive thought in that instant. Sehpa continued ¡°My older brother is a rather excitable sort you see. As such I could not act on his message alone, and I sent Faelyn here to his usual information gathering haunt.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°The Cask,¡± spoke Jon. Pieces fell into place rather rapidly.

    ¡°Why yes, Jon. I do not even know your family name, would you be so kind as to share it?¡±

    ¡°Kel is fine.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see. Kel-sun would you care to take a seat with your elven frontman.¡± Well, the jig was up. Relaxing from his stiff servant posturing, he found a seat next to Kay on the long side of the table. He met Kay¡¯s fearful eyes and gave a reassuring wink and a smile.

    ¡°Well, I suppose coming clean at this juncture is for the best. Please, Ms Shalen go ahead and expound on what you suspect, and I will correct as we go.¡±

    ¡°You are not the first human, to entertain business with an elf as a cover. How long did you think you could avoid discovery?¡±

    ¡°Long enough to sit at this table, that¡¯s all I needed.¡±

    ¡°Well, congratulations, now you are. The human ambition I understand, but the elves lowering themselves to a mortal¡¯s beck and call I find debasing. Have you no pride Kay Luren-sun?¡±

    She made to speak, but Jon interjected instead. ¡°I am here on Kay¡¯s request. We are not lord and servant in any respect, but equals, always and forever.¡± His focus was on Kay has he spoke. ¡°Kay, these are your people, and this is your world. You say the word, and we leave, nothing need come of this.¡±

    Knowledge was a heavy burden, and Kay was at the focal point of two very different societies. She may not have liked it, but right now, she was the one and only representative of her entire planet. Jon hoped to change that and relieve the pressure some, but presently, it was on her shoulders.

    The room was silent as Jon ignored all else and focused on those green eyes and brows scrunching the skin between them.

    ¡°We stay,¡± said Kay. ¡°They too deserve the choice if nothing else.¡± Looking down, she was in deep contemplation.

    ¡°Well, well, if that is theatre, it is quite good,¡± remarked Sepha. ¡°But my loyal informant reports otherwise. Kay is confirmed to have named you ¡®Master¡¯ from several sources.¡±

    ¡°She is in training, as such she defers to a title of respect of her own volition. I have warned her off it, but she persists. She is free to call me as she chooses. You will note that liberty is a running theme if you continue to work with us.¡±

    ¡°A free elf calling her human companion ¡®Master¡¯.¡± Pausing as if mulling the idea over. She returned to the table, bringing a tray with three cups and a pot. Pouring them each full she took the first sip of her own. ¡°You¡¯ll forgive me if I reserve my judgement.¡±

    ¡°I doubt I could get you to believe anything you didn¡¯t want to, so doubt away.¡± Jon leaned back in his seat. Faelyn had approached to stand behind Sepha in the same servile capacity he had. ¡°Hey there, Faelyn, how¡¯s the arm? If you¡¯re amenable, I would like to do daily check-ups to ensure the break is properly healing.¡± Faelyn waited for Sepha¡¯s permission before replying.

    ¡°The arm¡¯s pain has diminished much. If you are willing to help me be rid of this ¡®cast¡¯ sooner rather than later, that would be most desirable. Should things not heal in line with your promises¡­¡± The weighty implications dropped like a guillotine in his mind. Fortunately, they were not in France and a few hundred years early, if it was ever likely to happen.

    ¡°Your treatment was improvised; there was no greater play involved besides care for your well-being. Don¡¯t treat an act of kindness like a machination.¡± That did not stop Jon from using it as one; he just wanted to have his cake and eat it too, or elf bread, whatever the fuck passed for confectionery around here. ¡°You threw the gauntlet remember. Court the unknown flippantly and don¡¯t expect to come away without a few scratches.¡±

    Faelyn¡¯s eye¡¯s narrowed at that.

    ¡°Oh, human,¡± returned Sepha, ¡°childishly courting the unknown goes doubly for you! You are in the very centre of elvish homelands. You are fortunate I entertain your naive floundering. Some of the older council members would have jailed or exiled you by now.¡±

    ¡°It is fortunate then; we have you. But don¡¯t get this the wrong way round Shalen-sena, you sought us out. You didn¡¯t need to, and we could have simply passed through without event.¡±

    ¡°I think both you and I know that is a fanciful figment. You don¡¯t arrive at our gates with a party of dead orcs wanting to pass by unnoticed! Come, let us dispense with pretence. Who are you, and why are you here? My patience runs short.¡±

    ¡°This is fucken great tea by the way.¡± He paused to appreciate the aftertaste. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll shoot straight for a while, but only since you asked nicely.¡± Secretly, he was relieved that small talk was over.

    ¡°Ah, the mask slips, and I see the crass lout below.¡± She smirked.

    He continued. ¡°The world you know is over. What happens in this room in the next few minutes will determine the future of Elgelica in all that.¡±

    ¡°Is that a threat, human?¡±

    ¡°Nah,¡± the refutation was casual, ¡°this is an invitation.¡±

    ¡°An invitation to what?¡±

    ¡°To join the rest of the world.¡±

    ¡°And if we refuse?¡±

    ¡°Then you refuse, and we go to the dwarves, humans, orcs, or hell, even goblins. Anyone capable of saying ¡®yes¡¯ or ¡®no¡¯ will suffice. You are simply the first stop because Kay here is the first person I met and she desired to come here. That said, I won¡¯t deny allegiance with elves has some points that support it over others. These are temporary at best, though. Whatever initial port we arrive at, will become the new centre of your world, it could be in the middle of a desert for all we care. It will not matter.¡±

    She laughed haughtily placing her hand before her mouth as she did. ¡°Very well I will humour you, Jon. Tell me of your ¡®mighty¡¯ land and people!¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, no one can be told what the multiverse is; you have to see it for yourself. Its entirety is something I cannot show you. But I can give you a taste, enough to make an informed decision. If you agree to this, then send out all but your most trusted people. How you ultimately handle forthcoming knowledge on your side is up to you, but I propose initially minimising exposure is in your best interest.¡±

    The bemused look on Sepha¡¯s face dropped as she replied. ¡°They will be armed. That is my only condition, try anything stupid Jon, and they will cut you and Kay down without pause. Are we clear?¡±

    ¡°Crystal.¡±

    Turning away, she nodded, and all but one guard and Faelyn remained in the room along with Jon and Kay. The guard moved closer to Sepha¡¯s side, hand on his hilt.

    ¡°Awesome, then let the show begin.¡± Jon opened his pack as he spoke. ¡°How often are council members spied upon in this building?¡± Slowly, so not to startle anyone, he pulled a sensor buoy on a flat mount from his bag.

    ¡°It is not impossible, but rest assured this room is secure.¡± Sepha confidently announced. The buoy activated, and Jon did a sweep.

    ¡°Uh-huh, am I to assume then that it¡¯s just the five of us here?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that is correct.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re certain?¡±

    ¡°How many affirmations do you need human?¡± harped Faelyn.

    ¡°Oh, so that dude behind the false wall isn¡¯t yours then?¡± John pointed, and quick as a flash, the guard rushed the wall and dug his blade deep into its timbers. The wood was thin and gave little resistance. Jon watched in macabre thermal colours as the poor soul on the other side was impaled. The deathly gasps of pain were unmistakable. Just as callously the guard pulled his sword free, everyone seeing it slick with crimson blood.

    ¡°Yep, you got ¡¯em.¡± The thermal and seismic rendition slumped on the floor as the sword pulled free. The guard kicked down the thin wall to find a human woman dressed in the garb of council servants. A narrow passage led off to who knew where behind the walls. The guard cleaned his blade on the dead woman¡¯s dress before resheathing it. ¡°I take it from the swift and merciless murder; she was not one of yours?¡±

    ¡°No she was not,¡± confirmed Sepha still not looking away from the corpse, ¡°and that passage is a new installation I was unaware of. Just how did you know, Kel-sun?¡±

    Giving away the sensor buoy¡¯s function was tactically unsound, but sooner or later he had to build some bridges. Also, he couldn¡¯t very well make Sepha ignore the fact that he put it on the table in the first place.

    ¡°The black orb on the table enables a new means of sight. Kay, please pass Sepha your visor for a moment.¡± Kay produced the optical goggles and demonstrated on herself.

    Kay explained. ¡°I would recommend closing your eyes while you affix them Shalen-sena. The added lights and colours can be disorienting.¡±

    Faelyn interceded to test them first. After a few wide-eyed blinks, he then handed them over to his mistress. Seconds later, Sepha was wearing them. It was quite juxtaposed with the rest of her hairdo and dress.

    ¡°Oh, my! What by the realm is all of this!¡±

    Jon replied. ¡°You see light not normally meant for human, or elf, eyes¡ªthe light of heat. Look at your hand and compare it to the table or the tea. The hues in gradation indicate either warmer or cooler things. Truth be told, I might not have detected the spy were it not for the fact she had been there a while, and her heat had transferred through that thin panel. Combine that with sight in the form of sound: creaking of wood and breath, plus some ultrasound, and the visual aid predicted a high probability of someone behind the wall. The lines and meshes are determined by sound. There is a lot more to it, but you get the idea.¡±

    ¡°This is simply magnificent! I must have one! How much? Name your price!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way Ms Sepha, but money is not the issue. While I can see how useful this would be for an information merchant like you, there are a few things you are not appraised of. Firstly, its function requires far more than just this orb and that visor. The sight is sent elsewhere to be cleaned and stitched together before arriving before your eyes. In short, if you use this device, even outside of my presence, I will see and hear everything you do. I will know when and where you are too. For someone who values discretion, I doubt these intractable features would please you.¡±

    ¡°Those are rather hefty drawbacks I admit.¡± She looked genuinely crestfallen as she removed them.

    ¡°Secondly, as allies, you will not need to buy such things. They will simply be availed to you as needs must. Your safety becomes a matter of vested interest.¡±

    ¡°If we become allies, that is.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ¡®if¡¯. I was just using the orb to clear the room; it is not the main attraction. Let¡¯s move on." Jon got up from the table and retrieved a deployable rift with a flat mount for floors. He set it up but did not activate it yet. ¡°Kay, now it¡¯s your job to work your muti. Please prepare them in such a way that they do not freak as you did.¡±

    The girl¡¯s green eyes noticeably widened.

 7.3 Preparation of Mind

    Master was insane as always. There was no way in this gods¡¯ damned land she could prepare their spirits for the heinously twisted logic of his rifts. The mind was not created to understand such things in any sane context. Gods be her witness; the amount of liquor required would render them unable to judge everything else as well! ¡­and then it hit her.

    ¡°Master, the Red Pills if you please.¡± She was deadly serious; but, knowing Jon¡¯s character, it would be many moons until she lived this down. The talk of many ale stories perhaps. He turned to her without even a sliver of a smirk and deposited the white bottle in her hand. He yet managed a bit of solemn gravitas. Only then did she realize how good a liar he was. A skill she wondered if she could¡ªand simultaneously whether she should¡ªlearn. Thankfully, a question for another time.

    ¡°Within the hour, council member Shalen-sena and your retainers will experience sights both wondrous and terrific. This is no fanciful tale from a town minstrel I announce to you. Believe me when I say you will see things next that have the logic of dreams. I pledge upon the gods that these forthcoming sights be true and real.¡±

    Her pledge had the effect she desired, vows to the gods were never made in jest. Unless it was Jon, she corrected. For a proclaimed unbeliever, he oft spoke of his divine Patriarch and made vows to him all the time; vows she was sure the deity wanted no part of.

    ¡°To bolster your mind against these maddening visions, I have in my hand a bottle of elixirs specifically concocted to that end.¡± She removed one and held the transparent red egg up to the light. ¡°They are named ¡®Red Pills¡¯, and I have had the misfortune of seeing what you will soon see, but absent its fortification. I assure you the distress is worth avoiding.¡±Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°What guarantee do we have they are not poison?¡± inquired Faelyn. Kay had not thought about that at all. Being caught up in the conundrum of saving their minds, she had clean forgotten their suspicions.

    Jon assisted swiftly ¡°I swear upon the gods that the pills are completely harmless.¡± His pledge was, of course, next to meaningless, but they were none the wiser. ¡°Also, I propose you choose five from the bottle yourself and then pick two we must ingest. Trusted but verified, I¡¯ve heard people say.¡±

    ¡°Proceed.¡± Sepha gave the assent. Everyone returned to the table, and the armoured guard beside the council lady fished out five red pills. Gesturing two forward, Jon and Kay picked them up and washed them down with the now cold tea. Sepha was about to choose one herself when the guard interceded once more.

    ¡°Please wait, Mistress.¡± He turned to look at Kay with cold blue eyes under his helm. ¡°Eat these three as well.¡±

    ¡°Is more than one safe, Master?¡± Keya turned to ask him.

    ¡°You could probably eat the whole bottle and be completely fine. I¡¯d recommend it with food, though, and it would be a bit of a waste. I would have to order more. At this rate, I might have to switch to blue pills in the meantime. Also, don¡¯t literally eat the bottle, that¡¯s not edible.¡±

    Jon swiped up two and consumed them, leaving Kay to imbibe the fifth. He continued, ¡°the effect doesn¡¯t increase. One pill is enough; more is pointless.¡±

    ¡°Do you take these daily yourself, given you¡¯re around such ¡®maddening¡¯ things more often,¡± asked Sepha.

    Kay could offer this knowledge proudly. ¡°The initial torment is most severe, after which the mind adjusts. We have no need for daily elixirs, nor will you. One is enough, and shall always be enough.¡±

    The pill process was repeated; this time, the elves finally took their own with a gulp. And with that, the fooled had become the fooler.

    ¡°Master, I believe we are set.¡±

 7.4 The Windup

    She fucken used his placebo! They grow up so fast! Warm feelings of pride welled up within his chest.

    Now he needed to hype this further. Showing the bunker, albeit a cool digs, was not the kind of majestic display to entice politicians. They craved power and ascendancy, of which there was plenty to have. But currently, it was mostly abstract; the quarantine saw to that.

    So with the bunker ruled out, he only had other preplaced rifts to consider. That was a small issue since, by the nature of the interdimensional gates, they only cut between realities. They were not pure portals; as such, most of his rift gear did not function while in the bunker.

    This was a minor hiccup since the bunker did have bridge rings designed to solve just this problem. Looking like large flat drums on the outside, inside two conductive rings were housed in parallel with a small gap between them. Playing with orientation and tunnel length presented diverse solutions, but for now, a slim wall mounted bridge plate in the rift room would suffice.

    ¡°Thank you very much, Kay, your assistance is always indispensable.¡± He knew she might never believe it, but the sensitive touch of a native could not be undervalued. Many engagements could and had gone sour very quickly without them.

    ¡°So, Ms Sepha Shalen, while our elixirs digest, would you be so kind as to extol some figures regarding Elgelica? How many souls live in this majestic place, do you know?¡±

    Evident pride was writ large on Sepha¡¯s features as she spoke. ¡°Why, Elgelica is one of the mightiest cities in the world! Certainly the largest of the elves¡¯ in the west. Census from five years ago counts us having 1 million souls. Mostly elves of course.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Not bad! For a preindustrial society that¡¯s commendable. Also, I compliment your city on its sanitation. Septic tanks at the base of trees is a savvy solution.¡± After seeing the outhouse at the Cask, he took note of them on his way over, and the pattern became clear.

    ¡°The business of defecation is not under my direct purview,¡± Sepha made a strained expression, ¡°but I shall be sure to pass the... commendation on.¡± Apparently, talk of shit was perceived to be below her, and ¡®below¡¯ is where everyone wanted it to stay. He could relate.

    ¡°Yeah, well maybe you haven¡¯t seen a cholera outbreak of two, to appreciate Elgelica¡¯s civic wisdom.¡±

    ¡°The wellbeing of the trees was noted to improve with the aforementioned additions if I recall my studies. What is this ¡®Kolera¡¯ you speak of?¡±

    ¡°A water or foodborne disease that can kill hundreds of thousands in a matter of weeks.¡±

    ¡°Elgelica is a city blessed by the divine with health. You seem to imply this is not by chance?¡±

    ¡°Serendipity more like, but enough talk of actual shit. Since you know what a million looks like, can you imagine a billion?¡± said Jon.

    ¡°Your land has a billion souls?! Impossible!¡±

    ¡°More like trillions in the greater world. My neighbourhood is about nine billion strong.¡±

    ¡°Preposterous, you cannot hide a million men and women, much less a billion, in the known world without a trace! We elves keep detailed records going back a thousand years, such a place would be long since found out,¡± said Sepha.

    ¡°Dunno bout that. You guys still haven¡¯t discovered half your world, never mind ours, but you have a point. We could not hide if we were from here, fuck I¡¯m only one person, and I sent ripples. So what is the inevitable conclusion?¡±

    ¡°Your people do not exist, and you are a liar. Or, you are not from ¡®here¡¯, wherever in gods¡¯ names ¡®there¡¯ is. That¡¯s the answer you want, isn¡¯t it, Jon?¡± replied Sepha.

    ¡°Bingo! So how did I get here? Please place your attention on the silver ring behind me.¡± The rift activated.

 7.5 Sephas Rabbit Hole

    Oh, she simply had to have him! His quick wit and how he switched from aristocratic parlance one second to plebeian filth the next was so quaint! Along with his elf attendant, it made for a giddy little performance. His novel toys were intriguing, but she would doubtless learn of all their inner workings in time. There was nothing a human could do that an elf could not and better.

    She would play along until he revealed all his secrets, then like all humans, he would simply pass with time. His secrets and toys would then be hers; mortals knew how to bet with everything but their minuscule lives, after all. Sepha would have to thank Brother Virion for this little bit of fun. First was the bow, then came the black ball and its vision glass. And second to last, the red mind elixirs preempting the main event.

    Even if decrying the title of performers, they assuredly presented themselves as such. Jon, the human man, finished his little speech directing their attentions to the final parlour trick. Sepha inwardly lamented that the day¡¯s entertainment would shortly be over and then¡­ the world fell out from under her feet, along with her jaw.

    The unobscured interior beyond the ring disappeared. The wooden panel of the council chamber was gone, replaced by another room. She saw a wall a few feet beyond, not of wood or stone but something¡­ else. The matte material was an unadorned white with gilded metal trimming in places. Golden light streamed in from the right side.

    ¡°What by the gods is that?!¡± she demanded and stood.

    Jon and Luren-sun ignored her and stepped through it, into the place beyond. The council table impeded Sepha¡¯s approach, and by the time they reached the ring, Jon replied. ¡°Bye!¡± A singsong send-off and they were gone. The ring flickered back to empty, their guests nowhere to be seen.

    ¡°Search the room!¡± Faelyn and Nym sprung into action inspecting the area but to no avail. A minute more and the ring shifted back silently; Jon¡¯s laughter was the first indication.

    ¡°I¡¯m kidding! I¡¯m kidding! Kay see, they¡¯re fine.¡±

    Sepha stood before the ring, observing the couple on the other side. She strode to the back of the circular doorway and was met with a similar unadorned cream white wall. They are in a magic wall that appeared from nowhere. She touched it, a kind of textured lacquer perhaps.

    ¡°Both sides are active, but the ring here is up against the hull. You can¡¯t go through that way, I¡¯m afraid. Not dangerous or anything, it¡¯s just, you know, a wall. They¡¯re super effective!¡±

    Sepha returned to the side they were on¡­ in? Perhaps those elixirs were not superfluous after all; this was utter madness! Luren-sun was disparaging Jon for his frightful jest, but the disappearance did affirm his sorcery in a way that persistence might not. Her mind raced to fathom the trick. They were within the ring, but what was within was not without. They are there, but there is not here, not beyond us, not the chambers.

    ¡°Pray tell, where are you?¡±

    ¡°Well, we could be anywhere really, but at the moment we are in about the same place just higher up. You wanna see?¡± He beckoned as if they were amicable peers, leaning casually against that same white wall.

    Her men forged ahead. Stepping through, they looked about with a phlegmatic disposition, assessing danger. Even their steely eyes enlarged at what they saw, turning back, they nodded, but hands never left their hilts.

    Curiosity overcame caution, and she stepped through the portal, turning right toward the illumination. Wondrously bright rays blazed through polished crystal glass panels. Such light was uncharacteristic for Elgelica, usually overcast.

    A man-sized circular glass window was cut into the floor. She knew of no glass blower bold or stupid enough to make such an outrageous thing. Jon walked over to stand centred on it. He jumped up and down on the transparent floor, ostensibly reading her thoughts. Sure and sturdy as stone, clear as water, no clearer. Miraculous. Peering beyond his feet and Sepha looked down upon a carpet of clouds many miles below.

    ¡°So, you know those rumours about a new ¡®beast¡¯ spotted in the skies around Elgelica? We¡¯re probably to blame for that. Surprise!¡± He waved his hands in foe mockery.

    The clouds parted for a moment, and Sepha¡¯s sharp vision spotted the Elven forest below, a glint of green from the spire¡¯s glass mural flickered briefly before the white mottled tapestry reclaimed the view. She barely noticed as her knees gave out. Many minutes later she was shaken from the mesmerising sight.

    Faelyn¡¯s concerned features obscured her view; the steadfast man had broken the spell bringing her faculties once more to the fore.

    Nym, to her surprise, hid in a corner as far from any windows as possible, his back firmly planted against the peculiar structure.

    Jon and Luren-sun sat nonchalantly off to the side in strangely upholstered chairs. They waited patiently looking through the windows or fiddling with this and that.

    She got to her feet and shakily and edged to a seat opposing them. Losing composure as she had was a weighty misstep. Weakness was never to be shown; least of all to these louts.

    ¡°Good, you¡¯re back.¡± He showed no indication of either pity or bemusement, merely giving her his attention with pure equanimity. She abhorred it because there was nothing to hate. Such aplomb, in a human no less, made her fume. He knew she could not hold her tongue for long, so he waited.

    ¡°This is a ship;¡± she clipped the words, ¡°one that sails through the sky.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°That it is! Welcome to the HAS, it¡¯s an airship. Funnily enough, the name still applies. I¡¯m sure the logistics of air travel is something you find enticing! Combine that with the rift that got us here, and there is no place we cannot be. My people can, and will, come and go as they please. The only remaining question is where the main thoroughfares will be.¡±

    The ramifications were distressing, to say the least, provided this was not some fitful nightmare. Walls and armies would be nothing but ¡®entertaining exhibits¡¯ between destinations. When envisioning usage of such artefacts in warfare directly, the impotence of Elgelica terrified her. What would firebombs from this height do to the trees? Could they douse them in time?

    ¡°Our Griffon Riders could reach your ship and strike you down.¡± She had never ridden one herself, but Elgelica was not without air defence.

    ¡°You have griffons! That is so fucking cool! I gotta see one!¡± His face transformed into an ingenuous child¡¯s, quickly replaced by calculating dispassion. This man vexed her deeply. ¡°Tactically they are a no go though. We¡¯re six kilometres up, the air outside is unbreathable. Even if your griffons could fly this high, which I doubt, the riders most certainly cannot. Plus, we¡¯re not defenceless either, and we have the high ground all the way up. I get it. You¡¯re angling for military superiority; vulnerably is not a nice feeling. You can relax, no one wants to invade you.¡±

    ¡°What do you want, then?¡±

    He paused, retrieving a gold coin, flicking it a few times in the air. ¡°Do you spend much time with games of chance, Sepha?¡± His dropping of titles irked her further.

    ¡°Not particularly, with enough knowledge and skill, there is no need to roll the dice.¡±

    ¡°And yet, here we are,¡± he said gazing down, unfathomable concern writ on his features. Was it for her? No, something deeper. A cavernous abyss of visions clouded those features. ¡°Catch.¡± He flipped the coin toward her and Faelyn intercepted, seizing and inspecting it. Satisfied, he bowed and presented it to her.

    Expecting Elgelican gold, she stared into a delicately carved, nay forged, art piece on one ounce. The craft was so fine it was better than any jewellery she had laid eyes on.

    ¡°It¡¯s a Kruger Rand from my hometown. They don¡¯t make ¡¯em anymore. With the return of the gold standard and Alpha instituting worlds-wide standardisation, it¡¯s no longer legal tender. Whatever comes of this, it is yours. Probably the most information you¡¯ll ever learn about me, and you know why that is Ms Shalen?¡±

    Perhaps he was a spy, his past hidden by powers beyond her ken.

    ¡°Because I am unimportant.¡±

    That stopped her short.

    ¡°I am not Ozymandias, king of kings. I have no mighty works. I¡¯m inconsequential, irrelevant ¡ª a grain of sand in time. I will not be forgotten coz there¡¯s nothing to remember. I¡¯m nobody. All that matters of me is the chance I give you. One flip of the coin.¡± He retrieved another gold piece and spun it in the air as he found her eyes.

    A grain of sand that knew its place. Lounging above the firmament, the man spoke thus, and she had never felt more despair. ¡°Who am I then, oh ¡®wise¡¯ sage?¡± The mockery was more to still her nerves than anything else.

    Built-up tension broke like chalk and Jon waxed jovial once more. ¡°You are someone. Or at least you think you are, and the world does too. But I don¡¯t do this for you or the other someones you may soon meet. I do this for the million nobodies in your care. They deserve the chance, but you flip the coin. So do it.¡±

    She looked down at the coin and felt her nerves strain. ¡°I can¡¯t because,¡± her voice rose rapidly in exasperation. ¡°I DON¡¯T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT!¡±

    ¡°Wait, what? Shit. Did I just fucken monologue for like a minute and not even answer your question? Kay, you gotta stop me when I do shit like that.¡±

    ¡°It was a fairly good monologue, Master. Do I get a ¡®Crewga Rand¡¯ too.¡±

    ¡°Yeah sure, I got a shit-ton. The gold content is still good, after all.¡± He flipped Luren the coin, and she caught it, inspecting the gold piece and smiling.

    ¡°Somebody, for the love of the Gods, answer my damned question!¡± Sepha stood now, nerves and fear gone at the inanity of these two imbeciles.

    ¡°Right,¡± Jon pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from a pocket. It was her invitation she realised; he read from the back of it. ¡°We would like to purchase land in Elgelica. Anywhere is fine, really. Abandoned farm lot or something of similar size, out on the periphery maybe. I d¡¯know.

    ¡°Next, access to your libraries and/or schools. I know that can be sensitive, so I leave it to your discretion. Going to Hogwarts would be super sick tho.

    ¡°Finally, willingness to come to the table when the real pencil pushers come from my world. And man, will they <em style="letter-spacing: 0">love talking to you. I¡¯m not sure if you can tell, but this negotiation crap isn¡¯t really my strong suit.¡±

    Yes, I can verily tell. ¡°Let me see that parchment.¡± She strutted over and snatched it from his hands. Then, she returned to slump in the opposing chairs that were rather comfortable she realised. ¡°The thickness of these strokes is gigantic, what did you use, your thumb?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be honest ballpoint pens don¡¯t work well on parchment, so I used a felt tip marker.¡±

    ¡°Did you have to write it skew as well?¡± She craned her neck to the side in reading it.

    ¡°I was just taking notes, no need to be so picky.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any idea how valuable this letter is? A personal invite to meet a member of the Elgelican council and you scrunched it up like a used washcloth.¡±

    ¡°Sheesh,¡± he put his hands up in placation, ¡°but, I did reuse it. That¡¯s gotta count for something, right?¡±

    ¡°No! No, it does not! What point is there even signing this? It could not possibly pass as a legally binding.¡±

    ¡°Oh, fuck no. The pens and the paperwork come later. Trust me you¡¯ll be grateful I delayed it this much.¡±

    ¡°Let me enunciate this aloud, so I fathom you properly. You come with arcane tools to threaten the nature of trade and warfare, and all you want is to purchase some land, read some books, and a verbal promise?¡±

    ¡°Fuuuck, that was way shorter to say. I should have led with that.¡±

    No, no, no, no, no. This was too much, or was she too inexperienced. No, he was too much. She took it all back; the centuries of her insanity would last much longer than the meagre years it would take for him to inflict it. I should be done right this instant with these buffoons. All the while, peals hysterical laughter welled up within her, and there was no stopping it. She cackled and cried till her breathing was weak and slouched her seat for support. Ludicrous tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Faelyn produced a handkerchief that she absently took.

    Jon spoke this time ¡°So we¡¯re good then?¡± Showing a thumb pointing up, he glanced about even eyeing Nym for confirmation. ¡°I¡¯m kinda feeling like some cake. You guys want cake? I could order chocolate or strawberry. What¡¯s your fancy?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d recommend the chocolate, Shalen-sun,¡± piped in Luren.

    ¡°Fine, ¡®Chocklit¡¯ it is then.¡± Well done, Brother Virion, perhaps our fortunes truly can shift with these two.

 7.6 Let Them Have Cake

    Sepha Shalen was asked by the human, ¡°so you¡¯re just going to leave the dead spy girl there?¡±

    They had adjourned to the spire. The cake was transcendent. Looking for all the world like mud on dark bread, the theme of looks belying content persisted with Jon. ¡®Human¡¯ was not accurate in describing this man; she needed a new term. Mischaracterization of him and his ilk would only lead to more folly. For that, she needed more knowledge; abounding questions bubbled to the surface of her mind.

    Sepha replied. ¡°Should the guards enter to remove her, they will disrupt out meet. My men will thoroughly examine her later. I hope the sight of bodies does not irk you.¡±

    It did not appear so, Jon drank and ate unperturbed. ¡°Eh, I¡¯ve eaten in enough morgues.¡± The comment and shrug implied a breadth of experience most bizarre. The human put his feet up on an adjacent chair.

    Sepha turned to his elf companion. ¡°Luren-sun, perhaps you are more apposite a person to ask. Being a denizen of our realm, I assume.¡±

    ¡°Why, yes, Shalen-sun. I would be honoured to assist in any way I can.¡±

    ¡°What should I call his people? Human seems¡­ inaccurate.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. I fathom your concern. There is much you do not know, and more still that I do not. To distinguish his people, know they are not from this world. It is a realm similar to ours but ¡®outside¡¯ of it. He speaks of our world being a globe, and there are countless others. Above us is his realm,¡± Luren-sun gestured up, ¡°but not precisely. I am not so sure myself; forgive me. I have been with him but a month or two, and what I have witnessed...¡± looking to the side she was troubled. ¡°Even beholding wonders daily, many inklings escape me.¡±

    Sepha was swiftly apprehending the fathomlessness of which Luren spoke. It came in casual demonstration rather than discussion proper. For example, an exquisite cake produced instantaneously from nowhere. The mundane look of his sack did not fool her. No cake survived their journey to her chambers; it came from elsewhere.

    Be their power superior or not, ¡®Up¡¯ or ¡®above¡¯ would deprecate themselves in negotiations. It would not do. On the other hand, ¡®Out¡¯ was neutral and articulate enough.

    ¡°Jon of the Outworlders. How does that sound?¡±

    ¡°Aw sweet! You got a name for us already! Lee, get out your Bingo card. Do you have ¡®outworlder¡¯?¡± Jon listened to no one.

    Luren anticipated her confusion. ¡°Forgive me Shalen-sun Jon is quite eccentric. The man Lee, to which he speaks is his guide. They communicate via this magical trinket. She made to remove some rather drab wooden jewellery from her ear, but Jon stopped her.

    ¡°It¡¯s cool Kay; I¡¯ll put him on speaker through the orb. Sepha and her team will get their own later. We can¡¯t have them operating in the dark after all.¡±

    ¡°-you fucking dare! Aw shit.¡± Came a voice from the black orb.

    ¡°Lee, please say hello to our newest negotiator, the minxy Sepha Shalen-sena and her cadre cool cats.¡±

    The black sphere cleared its throat. ¡°Hi, name¡¯s Peter Lee. Pleased to make your acquaintance. G¡¯ day from Perth. G¡¯night technically.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Where is he?¡± Faelyn looked around suspiciously.

    ¡°I am told he speaks from their homeland.¡± Offered Luren. ¡°The¡­ Outworlders can mould sight and sound like clay. They can send it like a letter too, transportation of sound and sight on the wind over many miles. As with their rifts, it is a trifle.¡± Sepha paled once more at the implications for spies and informants. Fears of what the Outworlders might do, or want, came to the fore once more.

    ¡°Please, Jon, as we have broken bread now,¡± divine bread, ¡°would you give me some ken as to the designs Outworlders have for us.¡±

    ¡°Oh sure, since I¡¯ve effectively gone native I¡¯ll give ya the low down.¡± He opined to the ceiling. ¡°Your world is like a delicate little rose in a barren garden of detritus. The absolute last thing they wanna do is cut you down or pick you. You can bet on that. You are magnificent, precious, and frail to them. They will handle you with the softest gloves possible, all to preserve your romantically primitive ways. In short, you¡¯re gonna fucking hate it, and you¡¯ll have to desperately claw your way through to get any new technology or knowledge.¡±

    ¡°That is¡­ somewhat disheartening but not altogether horrid.¡± Sepha stroked her chin. ¡°I thank you for your candidness. I did not expect you to tip your hand so.¡±

    ¡°Can I get some more of this tea?¡± He offered his cup. ¡°Man, the caffeine is pretty hefty, and I think my bio feed detects notes of a psychotropic microdose. Earl Grey with a kick!¡± Faelyn poured for him. ¡°Anyway, what I described is what would have happened. Alphas are a pragmatic bunch, and your world would inevitably integrate with time. I just kicked up the gearing is all. I¡¯m in your corner.¡±

    ¡°You are helping us? Why? Is that not treasonous?¡± Asked Sepha.

    ¡°The handlers will come from my world or a bit further up. I, on the other hand, belong to the Divers Organisation. That goes all the way to the top: the Alphas. To them, this is all just drama. And if there is one motivation of theirs you should never forget, it¡¯s boredom.¡±

    ¡®Twas a seed of truth she could apprehend. ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Jon continued. ¡°While I¡¯m the only one world-side, I command a degree of executive power, but that will rapidly diminish once the specialists start dropping in. So I¡¯m preparing a beachhead before the waves come crashing. I¡¯m your insider, and you are mine. Play your cards right, and you¡¯ll be famous, one look at that sly smirk of yours, and you¡¯ll make the worlds go gaga. Once declassified, the feeds will doubtlessly go viral. You¡¯ll all get your cut not to worry. I¡¯ll make sure royalties are apportioned accurately and fairly. You¡¯re what, 200 hundred years old? With another 800 years ahead, just do an average job, and the Alphas will immortalize you.¡±

    ¡°Who are these Alphas you keep mentioning? Your lords?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly. Your closest parallel would be gods. And I mean actual living, breathing, they walk among us, type gods. They-¡±

    ¡°Uh, Kel?¡± The orb spoke again.

    Sehpa marvelled at how bizarre a simple morning meet had turned. How has all this begun to feel so typical so quickly? The potency of those ¡®pils¡¯ perhaps.

    ¡°Yeah Lee, kinda giving Seph the DL right now, what¡¯s up?¡±

    ¡°I have uh¡­ news. Good maybe? I¡¯m happy to report the HAS, and your other outstanding debts have been paid off.¡±

    ¡°Fucking what!?¡± Jon jumped to his feet. The ring behind them switched to a new room, and Jon swiftly left his chair to walk through it.

    ¡°What is the matter?¡± She had not seen the man so riled even once since their encounter.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± He turned back briefly. ¡°With you, nothing. We¡¯re good. Kay, if you could stay behind and field any more of Seph¡¯s questions that would be great. Show them how to communicate with the headsets, and use the visors to browse the web. Here are spares.¡± From his bag, he dumped three sets arcane ear and eye jewellery on the table; freely handing out potent tools like quaint trinkets. He anticipated this.

    ¡°One of those waves I mentioned is breaking sooner than I expected. Lee can assist and handle the rift. Gotta go.¡± He paused just before stepping through his magical doorway to an arcane room beyond. ¡°I can leave Kay safely in your care, can I not Ms Shalen?¡± The question¡¯s tone was innocent, but his utterly impassive expression said otherwise. Those eyes had seen horrors, and stared unflinchingly at them, the eyes of Father.

    Sepha blanched. ¡°I pledge her safety upon the gods.¡± The words tumbled from her mouth before she thought to resist.

    An amicable smile bloomed on his face. ¡°Great!¡±

    Which is the man, and which the mask? She could not tell. He wore so many of them, and they all seemed so genuine.

    With that, the Outworlder was off, leaving Luren behind, and everyone most assuredly bewildered.

 8.1 Lees Digs

    ¡°Foken donnerse kak.¡± Kel¡¯s voice came through on Lee¡¯s headset.

    ¡°Hey! Swear in a language everyone can appreciate, cunt.¡± Lee¡¯s study was that of an average suburban household in Perth, Australia. It was night outside since Kel¡¯s location was what would have been England¡ªwere he not worlds away.

    The hours were odd, but it was a solid gig. Arrayed before Lee was one massive curved monitor with some smaller screens appended on the periphery for specific tasks. Jon¡¯s bio feed and sense feed was on one of them. They would flatline once he entered the bunker, requiring direct activation his side to connect via RF. Everyone needed their privacy, after all.

    This PC was naturally no ordinary computer¡ªnot a fucken Mac either. Power and data were connected up- and downstream tapping directly into the multiverse-wide grid and the Multi-World Web. It would never go down, and there was no testable upper limit on bandwidth.

    ¡°I have a mother-fucking patron, don¡¯t I?¡± asked Kel.

    ¡°You know, most Divers would kill to get a patron.¡± Lee saw Jon¡¯s bunker ping move to his quarters where his terminal was. Sight was one of the few things they could not do on Low Tech. The lenses in Jon¡¯s eyes depended on rifts to divert the light and manipulate the image.

    Full AR miniaturization on that scale was a ways away on Gamma 37-72. Not that Kel necessarily wanted it anyway. No function meant no spying and guaranteed privacy, a luxury the 21st and onwards all valued quite highly.

    Kel replied, ¡°most Divers do kill for patrons, that¡¯s like half the job: pretending to be an action hero or some shit.¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Jon was not that kind of Diver, and Lee would never have stayed with him as long as he had otherwise. Kel was a special kind of crazy that you held onto when you found it.

    ¡°Do we have any information on who?¡± the Diver asked.

    ¡°It can¡¯t be the usual; otherwise we¡¯d have had opportunity to reject. I got no notices from HQ. Incoming cash was the only tip-off.¡±

    ¡°No formal contract then? Requests for privileges and the like?¡±

    ¡°Nah, Kel. Your feed has been pretty tight. Local Gamma HQ only got need-to-know stuff and data was drip-fed top-down instead of bottom-up. Whoever¡¯s got their hand on the hose, it¡¯s gotta be High Beta or maybe even Alpha.¡±

    ¡°Balls.¡±

    A notification popped up on one of the screens: Personnel and Logistics. ¡°Wait, I got something! Your Sawbones request has gone through. Damn, this ETA is way too fast! An expedited Dive for sure.¡±

    ¡°Those trans-human pricks hitched a ride down on my specialist request! What do I always say about good deeds; what do I fucking say, Lee?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it applies this way round, Kel. Unless you¡¯re doing the punishing.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re damn straight, I am. Ain¡¯t nobody gives me free money without my say so!¡±

    Lee continued reading, ¡°Bra, this applicant is pretty well trained! No mug tho. Medical degrees up the wazoo: specializations in virology and genomics, minors in theoretical and applied physics, and paramedic training to boot. It¡¯s like she¡¯s tailor-made for us.¡±

    Everyone had heard the rumours; no one wanted to believe them. That¡¯s when the doorbell rang.

    Lee¡¯s voice wavered a bit.¡°Kel, someone¡¯s at the door.¡±

    ¡°Please tell me the ETA doesn¡¯t match. Pretty, pretty, please.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re willing to risk Dive Shock, coz you¡¯re a savant Alpha doctor, it does.¡±

    ¡°Ah, fok!¡±

 8.2 Rilian

    On the Gamma C-037-072 local web, the word ¡®Sevny¡¯ had become popular when referring to themselves: their world, their tribe. At least they weren¡¯t fighting each other anymore, not directly at any rate. Per contra, a bit of conflict was always propitious, as was a bit of peace. That was the way of most Sol based worlds¡ªof her ancient ancestors. Stagnation was death, massive upheaval: chaotic, but undulation: healthy.

    The first time his feed crossed through Rilian¡¯s consciousness, she almost blew a server-bank. She grew passionate at times and overloaded data conduits. Only a few thousand cables, it was ¡®no biggie¡¯ as the Sevnys would say.

    Jonathan Kelly¡¯s data-dump was one such occasion. Father had admonished her bad habit several times; the lower branches did not have the same throughput.

    Of course, she knew this, but a data centre here and there was easily replaceable. Although... she corrected that thought, what if his data was of those that did not have backups? What a tragic loss that would have been!

    The music of existence was a song that played once and never more. Father was right; she ought to be more careful.

    Some worlds back she had started observing him diligently. There was always variation in how each Diver conducted their business. The job was risky, and it was untenable how anyone with a single body, mind, and finite life would even consider doing such a thing.

    Invariably that too was part of the allure: single fleeting strokes on the fabric of reality.

    He was not average, no outlier either. He edged upon danger, enough to make headway but never to heroic ends. As if he were trying to hide in plain sight from the algorithms. He took what appeared to be dull assignments in mundane lands, painfully primitive even beyond his. Yet everywhere he went, he left seeds.

    Minds bloomed in his wake; innovators and explorers flourished in those worlds long after he was gone. It was hard to identify in the meagre decade he¡¯d been active, but she saw him, she knew. He roved with a stratagem that perhaps not even he was cognizant of.

    Their primitive brains were wired backwards, bottom-up, not meant for self-awareness; just a serendipitous side-effect. They clumsily floundered about with progress like newborns; to be fair they were. And, like infants, they were fascinating to watch. Infinite tragedies and triumphs played out across the universe, and sometimes one could not help but nudge a few ants in the right direction.

    Slowly, she adjusted his portfolio, a recommendation here, a rejection there. Ever so gently, she guided him to where he would be needed, where his impact was maximised. It was only a matter of time before he found one: an exotic world! She didn¡¯t know what form it would take, no one did, but once his feed lit up again, it was unmistakable.

    So many worlds had been lost to brutes and megalomaniacs that it was almost too tragic to bear. Like seeing a malnourished child and knowing the brain was permanently stunted. Except, it was whole realities. Some would take centuries or millennia to recover, others, never. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    We had forgotten how many wrong choices we made right, how many ''flips of the coin'' we survived. In the wake of that, Alpha had altered particular incentives to encourage healthier localised management. Still, self-determination and preservation were cruel things to balance. Alpha could not be all things to all people. That was the reality, both a grim and beautiful one.

    Even with the alterations, finding the right mesh of skills and personality for first contact solo operatives was rare. Dying in action was a hefty blow, so they were given significant field support and financial backing.

    He, however, would have none of it, and flatly rejected every patron that ever applied. They were all sock puppets of hers, of course; few found his feeds very captivating.

    Instead, he sourced local weapons and gear. Jury-rigging archaic contraptions combined with rifts to meet his needs. Who else fabricated steel and concrete balls in their bunkers and then shot them out of pneumatic paintball guns!

    Moreover, that quiver contraption he was building for Kay, she would love to see in action. Oh, and the way he back-engineered the magic! Who in their right mind spent that much time thinking about how magic actually fucking worked? Tut, tut, she was slipping into his vernacular.

    Things he could not build he would finance himself, it took prospecting Southern Africa three times solely to get the deposit on the HAS. He oversaw the streamlining and modifications himself.

    Other Divers also did intriguing things; he was not unique by any stretch. Nevertheless, he was her Diver, and now he was the right man in the right place¡ªor wrong place. His quaint, archaic references really did bring out the anthropologist in her. It was a puzzle to solve: decompiling the memetic foundations of the mind that brought her such satisfaction.

    Recently, he was taking more risks. The stakes were known, intuited, and he was working faster than usual.

    That gambit with Sepha was a precarious thing; he read it right. It genuinely was a flip of a coin. He could die so fast in this world, barely abreast of all the powers at play. Magic switched things up far too much. Asking for a ¡®Sawbones¡¯ so soon was a sign. If ever she were to legitimately help him¡ªbe there for him¡ªit would be now.

    In addition, there was no way she was missing out on a magical fantasy world!

    An avatar was prepared ahead of time. The usual Alpha fare would not do. How augments and extensive genecraft fared on lower levels was an incalculable variable. Unaltered ancient humans were used as a baseline for good reason. Other testing took time, mostly done in root worlds. This was the frontier; she would have to ¡®slum it¡¯ with only minor changes.

    How magic and the viral phage worked in concert was thus far mostly indeterminate, so she was limited to modest mutations and some cosmetics. Being a magic dud would ¡®suck¡¯, and she would have to scrap the body and drop in a new one. That would be a waste of valuable acclimation time, something categorically inexcusable.

    The brain too would be primarily natural, just some unobtrusive cybernetics for buffering and backup. A black box would accompany the body for the trip, handling downloads and uploads locally. She would be splitting herself up again, but it was not the first time. Honestly, reintegration is always such a ride!

    The neural net finished printing, and the low-tech Rilian shuffled off with her gear, clothed in charming 21st styles for its first stop. The look on Lee¡¯s face was going to be priceless!

 8.3 Homo Deus

    Something was undoubtedly amiss, thought Keya. Lee and Master were both uncharacteristically respectful and proper in all their later exchanges with her. It was quite unsettling.

    Sepha had a plethora of pressing questions. Withal, Master entrusted to her such a vital responsibility. A peasant, edifying a noble! Who she was and what others perceived, had transfigured before Keya realised. The ruse became reality.

    Ultimately, it put to rest any doubts as to her station. Master indeed extended his hand in partnership. Verily, sometimes it was he who supplicated to her.

    Keya fielded as much knowledge she could regurgitate, but she felt woefully deficient at it. Master was one for majestic allegories and metaphors that bridged the divide of ignorance. Instead, she deferred to the visors rather quickly mostly to mute them in shock and awe. It worked fantastically for about ten minutes. By which time, Shalen-sun had recovered, and Keya took to writing a growing list of commodities the council member wanted.

    Perhaps the ¡®Online¡¯ store had been a mistake, but it was too late now. Master would have to give Shalen personal auction house access. Keya bemoaned being relegated to shopkeep for the rest of her tenure. She made a note of these recommendations too. The dreaded ¡®paperwork¡¯ Master always paled at was lesson branded upon her mind at that very instant.

    The faster Shalen could operate independently, the better. Now she understood why he preferred to empower others so rapidly. Master was lazy, lazy enough to know that a little work today meant less tomorrow. Teach an elf to shoot, and you feed them for a millennium as it was said.

    Soon, Keya could stand no more of it, and bid them farewell for the day. Sepha Shalen was entrusted with the orb and rift in the meeting chambers along with the jewellery of speech transport and vision visors. The trinkets had innumerous functions, and Keya had yet to grasp even basic operations entirely. Such endowments, for now, would ensure they were easily reached and conversely so.

    Having to commune with Shalen regularly discomfited Keya; she was but a babe in such matters as statecraft. Sepha displayed the sharpened wit of an educated highborn noble, while Keya had yet to divine the scope of her broad ignorance. I shan''t vex upon this, the first century is for learning, and I do so gladly. Perhaps Master had a solution to alleviate this matter. She would adequately report as soon as she could.

    Upon returning to the bunker, she saw Jon bustle about, in and out of rooms. A curt word here or there as he conversed with Lee. They were ¡®on¡¯ a separate ¡®channel¡¯. She imagined it as divided water canals but for sound. Lee bestrode both somehow; her metaphors tended to breakdown rather quickly. ''Twas quite frustrating.

    Master¡¯s strange quandary nagged at her incessantly. Just what in the world could gall such a man so? She was informed to wait in the living area as Master¡¯s flurry of activity died down. A few moments later and Kel tarried at the doorway his face a mix of emotions.

    ¡°Kay,¡± he said, ¡°we have a new team member.¡± Following in behind him was a creature so magnificent Keya nearly fell off her seat.

    ¡°Oh¡­ my¡­¡± was all she could manage. It was a woman, if the goddesses of fairy tales were to believed. Her hair shifted from dark earthy browns at the roots to lighter almost golden strands at the tips. Cropped in a short boyish cut the locks swayed lightly in the room¡¯s breeze and as they did, a shimmer of violet glow rushed through the strands. She combed it casually with a hand, and the glimmers coruscated to full bloom.

    Master spoke. ¡°That bioluminescent shit is gonna get on my nerves. You¡¯re officially benched for stealth missions, that¡¯s for sure.¡± Jon looked unperturbed if not a little irritated. How was he not wholly stupefied with the vision before them!

    ¡°Oh, Kel, ever the killjoy.¡± Her voice sung with soothing matronly tones that melted the heart. Keya was of the fair folk so, as of a few seconds ago, she thought she knew beauty. This visage could start wars. The eyes stole her thoughts next; a kaleidoscope of pinks and blues slowly undulated in those rings. Keya¡¯s breath caught as the rest of the face pulled at her attention. Perfectly flawless features framed it all, though not entirely feminine. The jawline was stronger as was the neck, and subtle tones of colour accentuated or downplayed her angles and lines. No blemish or stray hair could be found, even to Keya¡¯s keen eyes. She is of the seraphim!

    The phantasm spoke once more. ¡°Oh, she is just so much cuter in the flesh, Kel!¡± The goddess traipsed over, minimal clothing exposing more immaculate skin about her midsection and legs. Sculpted and firmed, her figure flowed like that of a dancer¡¯s as she swayed. How she stood, nevermind walked, in those precariously heeled shoes defined rationale and teased the senses.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Keya had traditional preferences for men, but this was something none could ever anticipate.

    ¡°Hello there Keya Ces. My name is Rilian van Ster. But, you¡¯re gonna call me Ril, because Jon shortens everyone¡¯s name. It¡¯s just his thing.¡± She gave a wink that made Keya¡¯s heart flutter as she extended a hand in greeting. Keya grabbed the limb, more to check she was not dreaming than anything else. Soft voluptuous flesh and polished sparkling nails greeted her.

    ¡°I¡­¡± She swallowed, her mouth was dry. ¡°I¡¯m Kay.¡± She mistakenly gave Master¡¯s moniker for her.

    ¡°Oh yes, you are!¡± A pearl white smile dazzled Keya¡¯s sight.

    Jon struck out a dispelling hand between them. ¡°Be not fooled by the wench¡¯s Alphy ways, Kay!¡± The gesture did nought.

    ¡°She¡­ is an elf? But the ears¡ª¡±

    ¡°No! Not elf, Alpha. She¡¯s an Alpha in a flashy new meat suit. Very flashy, is this really your version of ¡®slumming it¡¯? God-damn, I¡¯d hate to see what dressing up looks like.¡±

    ¡°Oh, Kay, don¡¯t listen to Kel. You can ogle all you like; it¡¯s what I made it for, after all.¡± The dreamy being floated off with another wink, assessing the surroundings and glancing to Master as she spoke. ¡°She¡¯s a little rough around the edges, but I can work with that. You always know how to pick ¡¯em, Kel. On the other hand, you¡¯re all rough edges; we just need to bring ¡¯em out a bit more.¡±

    ¡°I swear to mother-fucking-god, Ril. This ain¡¯t no prime stream bullshit.¡±

    The eidolon glanced back to her, ¡°You see, Kay? He didn¡¯t even start with my full name.¡± Euphoria rose with her chest for a tantalizing moment before the stare broke away. ¡°C¡¯mon Kel; you know how it is. We have to play both fields now, or someone else will. Either we lead the narrative, or we lose it. You¡¯ve got the head-start with Seph and a major character to boot. Once the stream chasers are cleared to dive, we can make sure they only get crumbs.¡± Keya was back to complete befuddlement; it was like her first few weeks all over again.

    ¡°Master, what is¡­ Ril talking about.¡± Being so familiar sent tingles down her spine and fire to her cheeks.

    Jon assayed Keya''s state replied, ¡°dear lord, Ril. Look at what you¡¯re doing to Kay! She¡¯s crushing super hard. You realise she has no framework to compute what you are? She sees a person, not a video game avatar.¡±

    ¡°But I am a person!¡± She retorted like a petulant child with mock offence. Even that was captivating.

    ¡°Just¡­ shut the fuck up for a second and let me help the poor girl.¡± He drew her side, and she felt the sofa depress with his weight. ¡°Kay?¡±

    She had to tear her attention away. ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°What you¡¯re feeling is totally natural. Ril is indeed a fucking drop-dead gorgeous mother-fucker. That is not a coincidence; her looks are made to bewitch. She is one of those Alpha gods I keep mentioning, and like we can change clothes they can change bodies. They wear them and discard them on a whim.¡±

    ¡°They steal bodies!¡± Ril rolled her eyes behind him and then winked once more. Those eyelids felt spellbinding, maybe they were.

    ¡°No! No, they make them. Weave them whole-cloth to suit their needs.¡±

    ¡°But then, what are they? Where do their souls reside?¡± Keya asked.

    ¡°Think of their existence as a cloud that may split off and reform at will. A piece of her is here residing in that body, while the whole resides safely above in her world. She splits off from time to time to gain new, unique memories and experiences. Where the whole exists, would be the realm you have accessed before. You know, when you search for knowledge or find those K-pop videos: the world of memories we call the Internet."

    A being beyond the carnal, truly a god then.

    ¡°As an aside, please switch to your profile when you watch those music videos here in the lounge. You¡¯re screwing with my recommendations.¡±

    The seraphim before her shared kinship with some of those videos, but they were pale imitations. ¡°Forgive me Master, their dances and songs I find so exotic and alluring.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I just love it when you call him ¡®Master!¡¯ So innocent and pure!¡± Ril thankfully shifted her bewitching attentions to Master. ¡°Jon, my boy, the way you can span millennia of advancement with a single accessible metaphor is why we pay you.¡± Glancing sidelong Keya. ¡°FYI, it¡¯s why divers from the early 21st are so popular. ''One foot in the stream and one foot out,'' as it were.¡± Ril¡¯s hands fluidly gestured. ¡°Also, you see how he diverts your attention with some mundane harp: pulls you right out of your loop.¡±

    Jon replied, ¡°pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. Also, you don¡¯t pay me fuck-all.¡±

    ¡°Well, we make sure the royalties and the contracts are honoured. I personally saw to yours, Jon. Kay, this man has a heart of neutronium. You should see some of the prosperous little economies he¡¯s set up.¡±

    Master¡¯s generosity was something she needed no convincing of.

    ¡°Don¡¯t believe a fucking word of hers! Sure as shit I¡¯m a fucking arsehole, everything I do is self-serving. Micromanagement is the surest way to hell.¡±

    The two argued as comrades. She felt somewhat disheartened that Master kept this amity from her. Perish such preposterously envious thoughts!

    ¡°Have you been cohorts long?¡± Keya asked.

    ¡°Friends!?¡± Master retorted ¡°No, we¡¯ve just met. But she¡¯s been watching us¡ªin particular me¡ªfor a while. That much is clear, and that she''s here now means something.¡±

    ¡°It means¡­ fuck, I just lost my train of thought." He shrugged, "I got nothing. You work it out.¡± Master turned to leave. ¡°You girls have a nice chat now. I¡¯m fucking off to do maintenance.¡±

    ¡°Kel, wait!¡± Ril cheerily chased after him.

    ¡°Ek wag vir fokken niks!¡±

    Keya just sat where she was, dumbfounded. Just what by the gods has happened to my life!

 8.4 What a Shock!

    ¡°It¡¯s 6 a.m. in the god-damn morning!¡± said Jon. ¡°Can¡¯t this wait until after breakfast?¡± The three of them were gathered in the HAS. The sun saying ¡®fuck your eyes¡¯ as it peeked over the clouds and through the windows.

    ¡°No, it fucken can¡¯t! If this body is a dud, then I need to know ASAP,¡± replied Ril.

    ¡°You see this Kay? All philanthropic on the outside, but a squealing fantasy fangirl on the inside.¡±

    ¡°Can you blame me?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I can. That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m doing right now.¡±

    ¡°C¡¯mon Kay, hit me, and you two can go and have French toast while I incubate.¡±

    ¡°I fear this might be unsafe, Ril. Are you certain?" asked Kay. "I would hate to mar you in any way.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t come down here for safety my super-elf princess. Rest assured you couldn¡¯t kill me if you tried. Destroy this body, and I shall come down extra cute for you next time.¡± She gave that femme fatale wink again, and Kay swayed weak-kneed.

    ¡°Oi vey, Kay I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll survive a second iteration. Best to be fucking careful. Ril, lie down; Kay can¡¯t concentrate if you keep looking at her like that.¡±

    ¡°And you think lying down will help?¡± She did it anyway with a dirty smirk, looking like Da Vinci¡¯s Vitruvian Man¡ªWoman ¡ªlegs together, centred on the circular glass.

    ¡°It will if you¡¯re under a blanket,¡± and he tossed the fleece material, covering her from head to toe.

    ¡°Very romantic,¡± came her muffled voice.

    ¡°You, shut up, you!" He turned to focus on his flustered recruit. "Alright Kay, now you do your worst. If you manage to knock her out, just think; you might be able to get through breakfast without butterflies in your stomach.¡±

    Kay appeared truly relieved at the notion, damn, she got it bad. Not the first low-worlder bamboozled by a nice paint-job, and she wouldn¡¯t be the last. It didn¡¯t help that Ril was kinda alright. Why on earth did they have to be stuck with the nice Alpha-worlder? That was gonna make everything all the more difficult. Hopefully, those humanising cracks in the veneer were authentic and not further decals over paint.

    How the bliksem am I gonna take her out in public? Hell, the rats might fall in love. Our very own Pied Piper or siren, except she doesn''t even need to sing. Oh shit, what if she did sing! With that sensually engineered voice of hers, cocks and cunts would twitch for miles around.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    That was a problem for after breakfast. Jon calmed his breathing and Kay followed suit as she stretched out a hand toward Ril. A moment later, she said, ¡°it is as you say, Master, I sense no resistive aura as I approach.¡± In the next second, she claimed, ¡°I¡¯m in. I have a limb. Gods! Why is every inch of her so damned beautiful!¡±

    Yeah, Kay was fucked.

    ¡°You feel that Ril?¡±

    No response.

    ¡°Ril?¡±

    First, some tremors and then her body started spasming violently.

    ¡°Rilian-chen!¡± shouted Kay. She had known the Alpha for less than a day and was already affixing familiarity titles. Tsk tsk.

    ¡°Calm down, Kay. You¡¯ve pulled out, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, her being felt quite foreign to me, colder like the northern tundras. I sensed the shocks long before I saw them.¡±

    ¡°Good girl, now help me hold her down.¡±

    They approached swiftly and threw off the blanket. Kay proceeded to use her strength to resist the worst of the bucking. It still threw her off a couple of times before she got a handle on it, pinning Ril''s legs beneath her and holding back the arms.

    Kay raised an eyebrow in surprise, "she is much stronger than she appears," then she blushed, "...and firm."

    Of course she is. Jon retrieved the injector Ril entrusted to him before their little ''field experiment''. He had no idea what was in it, but that was Ril¡¯s business.

    ¡°What is wrong?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s probably Dive Shock. An anaphylactic response to multiple new environments and biospheres in rapid succession. Don¡¯t feel bad; this was just the last straw.¡±

    ¡°What does straw have to do with it?¡±

    He found the jugular in her neck, guiding a flushed Kay to hold her still just so. The injector found its mark, and the dose was delivered. It took a few more minutes for the shaking to calm, but Ril remained unresponsive.

    Lee reported in on speaker, ¡°Ril from up top says it¡¯s all fine. Just move her back to medical as instructed.¡±

    ¡°So she truly is a god then,¡± remarked the elf, "she speaks from above while her mortal coil sleeps below."

    ¡°It¡¯s a good approximation, but it¡¯ll lead you astray pretty quickly. Help me with her; you won¡¯t be strong when we move through the rift.¡± They grabbed limbs and shuffled to medical. Kay gladly took the feet, being as far away from the most exciting bits as possible.

    ¡°How,¡± She huffed, ¡°do I deal with this, Master?¡±

    She was already dealing pretty well, he thought. ¡°Push through rather than pull back. Lean in rather than out. You¡¯re glamoured by the idea, not the reality. Don¡¯t feel shame or powerlessness. I¡¯ll not judge, and I¡¯ll make damn sure you¡¯re not taken advantage of.¡±

    Honestly, he wished Ril would draw the clear lines already and stop with all the teasing. But fuck if he knew which way the wind blew. God-damn-it why couldn¡¯t she simply be an absolutely wonderful bitch?

    Where was his lucky break in all of this? They lugged her unceremoniously¡ªwell Jon did at least. Kay attempted respectful reverence while stealing entranced glances at every jostle.

    Into the capsule, the Barbie Doll went, and he closed the lid in satisfaction. Kay dallied a bit longer, but Jon beelined for the kitchen. French toast and bacon? No, fuck Ril¡¯s suggestion; they were going eastern, Katsudon and Soba noodles it was.

 9.1 Painted

    The alarm in the Highland Cask tripped just as Jon was finishing off his noodles. Kay was still busy.

    They hadn¡¯t been back since yesterday. So, for all intents and purposes, they were still ¡®at the spire¡¯. Lee notified them and put it on the main TV screen.

    The orb, latched to a roof beam, dutifully tracked a hooded figure creeping into the tavern room.

    Seph had told them nothing more about the dead spy-maid, presumably because there was nothing to offer, and Jon needed the down-low on local cunts urgently. Here was yet another one up in their shit. Being in Elgelica all of two days, this was not a bloody coincidence anymore.

    The snooper cautiously searched the room which was basically bare save for the rift on one wall and the orb. He¡ªthe acoustics and heat map predicted male¡ªavoided approaching the ring initially and eventually meandered with his sight up toward the sensor buoy.

    Jon was only waiting for the money shot and launched the paintball onto the bare forehead and eyes. The three burst shot made sure at least one hit. The others splattered the hood and neck as the dude let out a yell and scrambled for the door. The paint was a tenacious kind and would not wash off for a while. Not that soap was an accessible commodity anyway.

    No magical locks were on the doors sadly, so the man rushed out, and that was the last they saw of him.

    ¡°Lee, is either Sepha or one of her men online atm?¡±

    ¡°Is ¡®at the moment¡¯ really that hard to say?¡± carped Kay.

    Lee replied. ¡°Yeah, we got Sepha.¡±

    Depending on interpretation, they had either ignored or answered her. Either, justified the scowl she made while sipping her green tea, while the bitter flavour appeared to calm and cleanse her disposition as she swallowed.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Jon sent her a bright smile. ¡°Okay, ring Seph up. Maybe her informant network can track this guy.¡±

    The ring tone buzzed for a bit before he heard Sepha clear her throat and shout all too loudly. ¡°IT IS I, COUNCIL MEMBER SEPHA SHALEN. WHO CONTACTS ME?¡±

    Jon involuntarily plugged his ears, and Kay grimaced in pain.

    ¡°Normal voice volume or even a whisper is fine Ms Sepha. I am so glad to see you try on the earphones so soon.¡±

    ¡°Ah, this must be Jon. My, you sound as if right by me, what a wonder! I was attempting to match these drab trinkets with my other jewellery. A rather futile effort it seems.¡±

    ¡°Place something of the colour, or metal, you want nearby the orb, and I¡¯ll order it immediately. We can¡¯t have m¡¯lady cramping her devilish style now, can we? I¡¯ll probably vary the design a bit too.¡±

    ¡°Quite the magnanimous enigma you are, Jon. What is it that concerns you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about yesterday. I had a visitor. Not to worry, she¡¯ll come to trouble you herself, sooner rather than later I suspect. Bear in mind what I mentioned about those Alphas in our meeting.¡±

    ¡°You mentioned next to nothing of them.¡±

    ¡°Exactly, just be prepared for her.¡±

    ¡°''Her''?¡± confirmed Seph.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll hit it off like fireworks. Anyway, that¡¯s not why I called. My room at the Cask had a break-in, nothing stolen don¡¯t worry, but I managed to paint the perp with very hard to remove, bright blue dye.¡±

    ¡°Ah, you¡¯ve marked him, I catch your meaning. My eyes shall keep watch. The message will go out to Faelyn and Nym directly. I too wish to know who stalks you. They may be connected to yesterday''s... rat.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Shalen-sun. Truly, thank you for everything. I mean it. Let me know what your people need, and I''ll sort it.¡±

    ¡°That is wonderful to hear, Kel-sun. I believe Luren-sun has a draft of requests already. Be sure to receive them from her.¡±

    Ag, fok. That was just an overture, Jon should have known better with Seph.

    Kay produced said paper where she sat at the kitchen counter, still stubbornly attempting to eat soba. Her chopstick skills, being neophyte, had slowed consumption considerably. Even as he watched, noodles slid from between raised sticks much to her consternation.

    ¡°I will get on that then. Alright, goodbye, Ms Shalen.¡±

    ¡°Good day to you, Jon.¡±

    Then they did that thing where no one put down, expecting the other to, and it became uncomfortable.

    ¡°You, know how to close the call, right?¡± asked Jon.

    ¡°No, I do not.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± he hung up.

 9.2 Investigative Investigations

    Well, they found him. Lying on a short wooden jetty along the River Thyme was an elven man with a neon blue upper face and an arrow in an eye. It was an unhealthy place to leave an arrow, fatally so.

    Must have been some trick shot bullshit to get it in the socket like that. Or someone just came up and stabbed it in. Why the hell did Elves love bows and arrows so much? Was it just the best current meta, or a cultural quirk? Jon¡¯s money was on the latter.

    ¡°So, Faelyn, what¡¯d we got? One of your guys found him?¡± They were guided to the site once the body was found. Faelyn wanted to bring the dead elf to the Spire, to which Jon vehemently refused. Lunch was a perfect time for crime drama subplots. The sun, or what was left of it, behind the clouds and trees, had just passed midday. Very noir, I should¡¯ve popped my collar and worn a black fedora.

    ¡°That is correct, Jon. And please call me Perrel in public, for appearances if nothing else.¡±

    What kind of words did they use in noir? ¡°Got it. So, since this patsy¡¯s yap is permanently clammed, do ya perhaps know him?¡±

    ¡°Ahh¡­,¡± Faelyn fixed him with the ¡®you crazy¡¯ stare before professionalism won out. ¡°You are in luck, Jon. This elf was known affectionately as ¡®Light-finger¡¯ among the boughs of Elgelica. I¡¯m sure his vocation needs no further explanation.¡±

    Meh, not my thing. I¡¯ll stick to modern genres. ¡°I kinda always thought of thievery as an avocation. I mean, point being, you don¡¯t wanna work hard and earn your way.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­¡± Faelyn was trying his best to humour Jon. It was maybe a B-minus for effort. ¡°He had been caught by the city guard several times, mostly minor crimes. This time would have been no different, were it not for the¡­ major crime that ended him.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m on your level, man. No one kills in cold blood in your town, except you.¡±

    ¡°A spy, lying wait, near a council member in private quarters, and a petty thief killed in public are two very different things.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just ribbing ya Perrel-sun." It was good to know they weren''t that barbaric. "So, does this knowledge help us in any way?¡±

    Keya was a little further along the jetty. She seemed distracted, staring across the river to the Elven forest sprawl on the other side. The exotic juxtaposition of what passed for urban life with their trees and hovels certainly was picturesque, or perhaps their new ¡®specialist¡¯ was to blame.

    Ril was thankfully still on ice. He really should have thought of a lock on the outside of that capsule. Tweak the anaesthetic a bit, and he might get a week before Ril realised her finger puppet wasn¡¯t acclimating no more. If only he had more time!

    Faelyn cleared his throat. ¡°He was likely paid to break into your room. Once marked and his identity easily revealed, he went from informant to loose bowstring rather quickly, as you see. Light-finger would have done just about anything for some coin, and a tavern room would have been very little at that. Sadly, this does not narrow the list of employers at all.¡±

    So the burglar was a dead-end¡­ maybe. The beginnings of a terribly bad plan were forming in Jon¡¯s head.

    ¡°That arrow looks rather unique though.¡± The pointy stick in question had additional strange fletchings along the shaft closer to the head. They were conical in shape, like that of a blow dart.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°It is an Air Arrow, Ma¡ª, Jon,¡± said Kay. ¡°Lacking the heft of Earth Arrows, nor the ability to draw such monstrous bows, Airbowmen ''aim'' instead for finesse. And aim well they verily do. Their bows are standard fare, aside from a simple wooden pipe to shoot through. The arrows, on the other hand, are far more intricate.¡±

    ¡°Wow Kay, I keep on forgetting you¡¯re such a bow nut. Where did you learn all this stuff?¡± Someone had been fantasising about magic and bows for quite a while it seemed.

    ¡°I could very well ask you the same question Jon, and I suspect we¡¯d be here till the morrow. Save to say, I read, and my grandfather taught.¡±

    ¡°It is as Luren-sun says. In a rather cruel twist of fate, Light-finger is as useless in death as he was in life. But the arrow tells us much. It is footed, and where the softwood meets the hard, Air fletchings are added to guide and thrust it. It could not strike very hard, but an adept air mage might guide it very far and unerringly to a soft target: an eye, for example.¡±

    ¡°So an Elven sniper, terrific. What range are we talking about here?¡±

    ¡°Air mages can sense up to 3 miles; however, sight and the flight of the arrow become the limiting factors. Naturally, skill plays a significant part too. Given the angle of entry and depth of the shaft, it was fired nearby: under fifty paces? The eye is still a tiny reacting target after all. Perhaps from shadows and while he was distracted or otherwise engaged.¡±

    ¡°Thank you very much, Detective Perrel. And what might our next lead be? If this arrow is so special, I assume we can trace its origin.¡±

    ¡°Well, you could. We found your snoop, and I have other duties. Feel free to indulge in the chicken chase. You already know someone able to tell you more of the arrow¡¯s craft.¡±

    ¡°Really? You use chickens for that saying, wonders never cease. Okay, I¡¯ll bite, whose the crime lab ballistics tech I¡¯ve met?¡±

    ¡°Not one by such a strange name, but you should return to the Highland Cask.¡±

    ¡°Sweet! I get to visit Bron Smith¡¯s Smithy!¡±

    ¡°¡®Tis not Bron but his daughter you should consult. There is always work for a Dwarven Earth Smith no matter where he goes, but a Dwarven Air Mage is something of a pariah. So it was that he moved to Elgelica with his wife and child. Ask Bren.¡±

    ¡°Awesome. One more thing. What are you gonna do with the body?¡±

    ¡°Usually next of kin would receive the body for cremation and dispersion beneath the family tree. Light-finger has no such ties, as far as I am aware, born outside Elgelica. He will be held for a time in the council catacombs, should anyone come forward. After which he will be burnt and dispersed by Elgelica¡¯s builders to trees they deed necessary.¡±

    ¡°Can I keep him until then? I''ll prevent him from rotting; I have a cold room built for the job.¡±

    ¡°You have a whole room dedicated to preserving the dead? No, forget I asked. I have seen the decadence and magic with which you traverse the world,¡± Perrel sighed. ¡°Still, custody of the dead is¡ªespecially of an elf, even a bad one¡ªan unusual request. ¡®Tis best you receive Shalen-sena¡¯s permission. I will ask her, and I suggest you have some of her list prepared in compensation.¡±

    Faelyn strode over and plucked the arrow out of the dead thief¡¯s eye. He wiped down the blood on the victim¡¯s robes before handing it to Jon. This world really fucking needed tissues and toilet paper.

    ¡°Please forgive Jon¡¯s eccentricities, Perrel-sun.¡± Kay allayed Fealyn ¡°He has the oddest predilection to the dead of our world for some reason.¡±

    Jon gave the arrow to Kay for safekeeping. He ignored her needling; the value of DNA was not something she had covered in biology class yet. Instead, he found his sunglasses; Lee wasn¡¯t gonna stop him this time.

    Swiftly placing and then pulling them off, he drawled. ¡°Looks like our perp was ¡®a painted target¡¯. Heyaaaaaaaaa! I can¡¯t hit the note. Kay, help me!¡±

    ¡°What by the realm is he doing?¡± Faelyn looked disturbed.

    ¡°It is a skit of idiomatic significance from his world. I have stumbled on a few in the perusal of his library. They are both jest and expressions of the patterned nature of existence, named ¡®Meams¡¯.¡±

    ¡°I am not laughing,¡± said Faelyn.

    ¡°Fret not, they strive for obscurity in reference.¡±

    ¡°What is the point then?¡±

    Jon continued to try raise pitch, but his voice was not built for that kind of singing, or any singing really.

    ¡°That, I have yet to divine.¡± A sober look was on Kay¡¯s face, while Faelyn frowned sympathetically.

 9.3 Smithy!

    The smithy was behind the Highland Cask, because of course it was. A small gardened courtyard opened up out back with the furnace and bellows roofed but open to the air. Workbenches were arrayed about, some sheltered while others were open to the elements.

    Bron proudly displayed his bare and hairy chest only protected in a leather apron. Sweat and soot bedaubed him as he pounded away at the anvil with a red hot piece of steel. Engrossed in his work, they left him be.

    He and Kay moved through the smithy, finding Bren working on a bench in the shop area. Before her, was the unmistakable profile of a crossbow in an advanced state of disassembly.

    Jon noted the long wooden tube, sticking out the front of the bow. Except this one ended with a foot stirrup, for cranking, he supposed.

    ¡°An Air Crossbow!¡± Kay was the first to comment. Jon rolled his eyes; he really should ask if Kay slept with her bows. Afterwards, he¡¯d dive into that uncomfortable discussion about the Alpha birds and bees before Ril jumped her.

    Bren stopped her work and looked back from the store area.

    ¡°Why, that it is Madam Luren! You two realise the store entrance is from over there don¡¯ cha?¡± Bren pointed to an entrance opening to a side street running next to the cask.

    ¡°My bad, I asked Bretha, and she just pointed through the tavern.¡±

    ¡°Very well, wot might I do for the ¡®Master¡¯ and his mistress then.¡±

    ¡°Even you? Wasn¡¯t it past your bedtime?¡±

    ¡°Oh, silver can be a hefty motivator. And I seem to recall a lot was flowing that night. ¡®Twas the eve of Nendinae as well.¡±

    ¡°¡®Nen¡¯ what?¡±

    ¡°The eighth day of the week is that of leisure,¡± tutored Kay. ¡°The Nendinae as called by the elves of the southern sea. I understand with the luxury of your people¡¯s seven-day week and two days of rest; this must be unfamiliar to you.¡±

    Bren raised her brows. ¡°Your people only work five of every seven! How do they manage gettin anything don?¡±

    ¡°Short answer: magic; long answer: the Industrial Revolution and labour unions.¡±

    ¡°¡®Short¡¯ it is then.¡±

    ¡°Smart girl,¡± said Jon.

    ¡°So, what might I assist you with? Or should I get Pa fer ya?¡±

    ¡°Nope, believe it or not, we came for your expert opinion Bren.¡± The butch girl rocked back in minor surprise.

    ¡°Wha exactly would you need to know of me?¡±

    ¡°I hear you¡¯re a bad-ass Air mage, and you can help us with the origin of this arrow.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    Kay passed her the item in question.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t exactly say I¡¯m a bad mage. That¡¯s a touch harsh, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±

    Kay assisted, ¡°¡®bad-ass¡¯ means quite good in Jon¡¯s arcane lexicon. Please forgive his turn of phrase. He¡¯s an idiot.¡± She sent dismissive side-nod his way and swished her ears.

    ¡°What she said.¡± It was best to let Kay handle the arrow stuff; Jon sauntered away to browse the store.

    It was well stocked with weapons, armour, and tools on tables or mounted on walls and racks. That was because it was a fucking smith¡¯s shop. What did he expect? Persian rugs?

    It was a bit musty inside, and with no illumination save for the afternoon sun attempting to angle its way in through the trees, the ambient light was not great. Scratch that, it was shit.

    Bren had an oil lamp she appeared to use sparingly while she worked at the counter and attended the store. At least he knew of one way to pay back the Smiths for bringing his shit into their lives: illumination.

    He would tinker with a solution when he had a chance. Currently, he was looking for something else for a certain dazzling someone.

    A dusty and drab looking helm was perched on a pole in a corner. It was styled similar to the old Corinthian helms made famous in Spartan films. Most Elgelican guards were wearing the same basic design. Lacking the bristles, it was simply rounded on top.

    The eye slits were large ovular and angled like a comical alien caricature. The nose piece diverged from most designs, being instead fused with the rest of the helm. Practical mouth and ear slits extended downward. But, most importantly, it was gashed, dented, and rusted all to kak.

    Only the fact that is was made with iron a little too thick to be practical had warded it through years, perhaps decades, of abuse. In short, it was a fuming dung heap of crap. Perfect!

    He had been ignoring Bren and Kay¡¯s conversation up to this point, and he continued to do so.

    ¡°Yo, Bren how much for that helm?¡±

    Bren paused for a second ¡°I¡¯m sorry, me daft ears heard you ask for that piece of scrap on a pole. What might you be wishing to buy?¡±

    ¡°Jon, do you mind? I¡¯m asking about the arrow, remember?¡±

    Acting affectedly flabbergasted he replied ¡°Oh, helloo? Paying customer here!¡± And then deadpan to Bren, ¡°Yeah, I want the helm.¡±

    ¡°You want the helm? Forgive me for saying, but I doubt I could pay anyone to take it, much less buy it. Are you gods honest sure?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, every second, I only want it more. Look at that green staining! I don¡¯t even know what that could be from, and I¡¯m somewhat of an expert on metals.¡±

    ¡°Jon, this is no time for your farcical foolery. Just buy a normal gods¡¯ damned helm.¡±

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m dead serious. That one was destined for the task I¡¯ve set before it.¡±

    The shop was quiet. Bron¡¯s pounding could be heard methodically in the back.

    ¡°Four Silver.¡±

    ¡°Are you out of your gods¡¯ damned mind Mr Kel! That¡¯s the price of a freshly forged and fitted helm! The interior of that shite is but bare metal.¡±

    ¡°Love the way you swear. Daddy¡¯s girl, I see. No fittings are even better, saves me the trouble of ripping them out. Five Silver.¡±

    ¡°Dear lords, you must be touched in the head! Let me get Pa to handle this insanity.¡±

    ¡°Ten Silver if you seal the deal yourself.¡± That gob-smacked the girl; she just stared open-mouthed.

    Slamming ten silver on the counter, he took the helm without further discussion. Even Kay seemed shocked. Clearly, he had been going easy on her of late. The seconds drifted into a minute of mute stares.

    Lee saved him, ¡°Ril¡¯s up.¡±

    God fucking damn it! Full dive shock, and she barely gave them ten hours.

    ¡°Kay, I¡¯ll go ahead and deal with this. You finish up getting the low-down and get back to the Bunker ASAP.¡±

    He heard her exasperated sigh behind him as he left. ¡°Ignore him, Bren. ¡®Tis not worth your sanity¡­¡±

    Returning to their tavern room he was back in the bunker in no time.

 9.4 Salt of the Earth

    Kel moved past medical to the workshop, dropping off the helm. He would get to hacking on it later. On his way, Lee reported in that Seph had Light-Finger¡¯s body in her keeping and they were to come to her to retrieve it, urgently. You¡¯d think she was more comfortable with dead bodies lying in her office.

    Ril, the Sci-fi Barbie Doll, was stretching and rolling her shoulders outside the capsule when he pushed open the door. Her motions were doing weird and wonderful things to her chest.

    ¡°Boob man are you?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯m giving such valuable intel to the enemy.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve used sight trackers on your feed, you know.¡±

    ¡°Did that give you any hints?¡±

    ¡°Either you are a strange man, or you¡¯re well trained. It differs for each person you look at, and even then it varies. One of the many enticing mysteries of Kel. What¡¯s his kink?¡± Lips parted into the thing¡¯s angelic smile.

    ¡°Did you really have to come down here with shimmering hair and sparkling eyes? Being drop-dead gorgeous, I can forgive, but you understand how hard it will be to move around with you unseen, right?¡±

    ¡°I was just dressing up a bit for you, Kel. Can¡¯t a girl have her fun?¡± A most innocent pout formed on the Alpha¡¯s face. She could probably get away with genocide.

    ¡°Is there at least an off switch?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid coming this far down limited my options to largely static ones.¡± Her shrug at least looked sympathetic. ¡°Although I confess, I wanted to see what you¡¯d do.¡±

    She shifted to catch his gaze. ¡°Ah, I see it your eyes. You¡¯ve already thought of something, haven¡¯t you?¡± The ecstasy displayed was unmistakable.

    ¡°You¡¯ve no idea how much people pay for that. That spark of creation, it can¡¯t be optimised or mass-produced. Birthed in impotence and constraint.¡± She came forward and placed her arms over his shoulders. ¡±And you¡¯re doing it just for me. I think I¡¯m getting wet, Kel.¡±

    The tension between them pulled taut like steel cable. Hierdie meisie is fokken mal! ¡°Enough of that, are you feeling well? No? Alright, I prescribe at least a week of bed rest, just in case. See you then!¡±

    Disentangling himself, he pretended to leave for the door.

    ¡°I¡¯m perfectly healthy, Kel. Thank you for your concern, and I believe it¡¯s Sorting Hat time!¡±

    ¡°Horrible comparison, and that universe has terrible world-building mechanics. How¡¯d you even know of it?¡±

    ¡°Interest in you extends to interest in your world. Art across the universe diverges faster than data corruption near a pulsar. We¡¯d have it no other way.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you wouldn¡¯t. Right, let¡¯s fuck off to the HAS.¡±

    Kay met up with them as they moved to the rift room; furtively stealing glances at Ril. ¡°One sec,¡± Jon put up a finger. ¡°We need samples.¡±

    Five minutes later they were in all in the HAS with the seats folded back. It was touring somewhere over Ireland at the moment. Ril sat cross-legged in the centre.

    Before her, was an Ultraman figurine, a cup of coffee¡ªhis, in fact¡ªa pneumatic piston, a fluorescent bulb flashlight, and Kay¡¯s book.

    ¡°Why such odd items, Master?¡±

    ¡°Variety is the spice of serendipity!¡± said Jon.

    ¡°By which you mean?¡± Kay continued to puzzle.

    ¡°I¡¯m fucking about, but it¡¯s not entirely pointless.¡±

    ¡°Ah, so you are being an imbecile again.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not as frivolous as you think, Kay.¡± Ril eyed him covetously ¡°for one, his eccentricities will bring in the ratings. For another, it¡¯s part of his process. Throw in discord and the irrational, and out of the soup the new is born.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°No one wants to know how the sausage is made,¡± said Jon.

    ¡°You say to the two girls who most certainly do want to know,¡± Ril smirked.

    ¡°I am amazed you passed up the opportunity for innuendo.¡±

    ¡°Too easy.¡±

    ¡°Might we move this along a bit, Master.¡± Kay¡¯s features were what a mix of irritation and embarrassment must look like. ¡°I also need to inform you of the arrow.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you two have been busy? I¡¯ll have to check the feeds.¡±

    ¡°Kay has a point,¡± said Jon. ¡°Please, Ms Ces, guide the pretty puppet through the process of finding her affinity.¡±

    Jon leaned back on a bulkhead while Kay guided Ril through the process of sensing and manipulating her ¡®aura¡¯. Who was he kidding the pre-scientific name was probably gonna stick.

    Finding Ril¡¯s aura was far more elusive than Kay¡¯s, but it was unmistakably there. His much larger field of sense found a kind of blind spot whenever approaching stuff with its own resistive space: living stuff.

    Ril¡¯s clung to her so tightly¡ªjust like her clothes¡ªhe gauged it barely covered her ''garments'', scant as they were. Although, it did follow the material¡¯s contours and extensions with about a centimetre border.

    His aura, by comparison, was an effusive mess. Flimsy and bleeding off him like omnidirectional smoke.

    Kay¡¯s aura had an intermediate rigidity and fluidity to it. Comfortably batting his out of the way wherever she needed to project it. While his was pervasive, hers had purposeful and undeniable morphology to it.

    Ril¡¯s did not appear to extend anywhere, and they needn¡¯t have bothered with samples past Ultraman. The moment she picked it up, the arms started twitching and rotating. Unperturbed she moved on to the other samples but to no avail. She moved the piston well, but not with air, rather in spite of it.

    At last, she came to the book. Picking it up, she huffed and strained as she focused, the veins and muscles tensed and rippled beneath the pearlescent skin of her neck. Nothing.

    ¡°It appears you are an Earth Mage Ster-sun, congratulations!¡± Kay made the call.

    Ril¡¯s sigh was notably disappointed. ¡°I think I need to come down again.¡±

    Why would she¡­ ¡°Oh, you absolute cunt! You didn¡¯t, did you?¡±

    Ril¡¯s guilty glance was brief but unmistakable.

    ¡°You did! Nooit, Ril you stick with what you¡¯ve got, just like the rest of us.¡±

    ¡°I do not understand, Master. Ster-sun is dissatisfied with her affinity I see, but there seems to be more.¡±

    ¡°You tried to copy her, didn¡¯t you?¡± Jon thumbed in Kay¡¯s direction, and Ril¡¯s silence confirmed it. ¡°Wow.¡±

    His break had finally come. ¡°You see Kay; every living thing has an essence if you will. A long song of but a few notes played in a specific order and unique, even among identical twins. It can be found everywhere in your body and blood.

    ¡°We call it DNA. It is why I am ¡®fixated on dead bodies¡¯ as you put it. We have methods of reading and preserving these songs. They too represent a kind of valuable knowledge.¡±

    ¡°You took my blood in the White Room, I recall,¡± said Kay.

    ¡°Yes, I did Kay. I am partly to blame for this, but your blood may show up many diseases and ailments as well. Having it for the one vital task makes it available for the other. Your DNA is very valuable, being a new type of long-living hominid, but it¡¯s also locked up, tight. Only people right at the tippy top would have access. Alphas are rather particular about cloning you see.¡±

    ¡°Kloaning?¡±

    ¡°The copying of your essence into a new life. The person would be as your twin but born at a different time.¡±

    ¡°You could make me again?¡±

    ¡°Nah, it wouldn¡¯t be you. Not the same life experience and memories. They would look almost exactly like you, though, and therein lies the problem. A hundred Kay¡¯s running around gets very confusing and counterproductive very quickly. It is also a lost opportunity for the unique. Alphas abhor uniformity most of all.¡±

    Ril added more. ¡°Your DNA is covered under your human rights, ¡®elven¡¯ in your case. You own your DNA¡¯s copyright for your life span and a hundred years thereafter. Non-extendable.¡±

    ¡°So Rilian has copied me? But she looks so¡­ different.¡± Kay was self-conscious for a moment.

    ¡°No one knows DNA as well the Alphas,¡± said Jon. ¡°She likely copied parts of yours from the sites that comparatively changed on mine after the virus. There was no guarantee that¡¯s how it worked. A sample of two is not nearly enough. Not even for the Alpha gods.¡±

    ¡°What I copied was well within fair use.¡±

    ¡°But it wasn¡¯t even in public domain! If you weren¡¯t in the Divers Organization, you would have no access. Hell if you weren¡¯t playing god with me, you¡¯d likely never have laid eyes on it.¡± He turned back to his elven partner. ¡°No way about it Kay, she took what was not hers, without permission, because she wanted to be a Life Mage like you. Not illegal, not moral either. Worse still, now she wants a character reroll. She wants to fucken try again!¡±

    ¡°Is it true, Ster-sun?¡±

    Ril was wordless as she remained on the floor, a little dejected, but only a little.

    ¡°I feel¡­ wronged in some way. Is that sane?¡±

    ¡°¡®Violated¡¯, the word you¡¯re looking for is ¡®violated.¡¯¡± Jon broadly advertised his satisfied grin.

    She had come all the way down with flawlessly chromed genes, but only now was she perfect! Praise be to gods everywhere; she actually is a bitch!

 9.5 Epsilon Upgrades

    Keya had never been in Master¡¯s workshop before. She sat on a workbench swinging her legs idly while listening to the music artef¡ª, ¡®meadia player¡¯ in the corner.

    Music from his world or worlds had initially sounded clamorous and all too quick for her ear: sounds layered upon sounds. Sometimes the goal was harmony others, discord, but they all did fill one¡¯s being in one way or another, making one feel something and want to move.

    Master flatly denied he was a dancer, but she watched him as he absently switched fluidly from one style to another while he worked.

    In her world there was but one music, all else was noise, a few instruments, all else were toys, and a smattering of songs, all else were but limerick dalliances.

    Compared to the liberated infinitude of his culture, she felt poverty-stricken. So she soaked up every second of it as if it were the last droplets of water in a desert.

    Keya was out of sorts of late. It was partly¡­ no, entirely Rilian¡¯s fault. The goddess had disturbed her mind something fierce. That had now been tempered¡ªmarginally¡ªwith the revelation of her selfish deed.

    Perhaps ¡®selfish¡¯ was not the right word. Ril¡¯s act cost nothing on Keya¡¯s part, and the details of what precisely had transpired remained rather abstract to her. She trusted Master¡¯s moral compass though. Perhaps bent and distorted on the outside, it managed to point true in the maelstrom of happenings around her.

    He had again taken the time to frame deeds beyond her ken in metaphors she could grasp. She loved him for that. Wait, ¡®Love?¡¯ That was a very strong word. She had¡­ affection.

    The very bodily attraction she experienced with Ster-sun, she could now distinguish from the deeper undercurrents of meaning she felt for Kel. Rilian¡¯s was a hacked short-cut, a flamboyant beguilement of the senses.

    Master¡¯s had weight and significance, like a ballast of a ship stabilising her. He¡­ cared. The advice to ''lean in'' held true; up close the facade faltered and what truly mattered became apparent. That said¡ªjust as a precaution¡ªshe would gird herself around Ril; that woman could play her like a lute, and she was nowhere near the dancer Kel was.

    The menace in question had been sent to petrify Shalen-sun. She was their ¡®Sawbones¡¯, or healer, after all. And the name¡¯s rationale was demystified with the task assigned. She was to ¡®awe-top-see¡¯ the late Finger-sun. It involved ¡®bone saws¡¯, and that was as much information as she wanted to hear on the topic.

    Just then, Ril pushed through the door. She saw Keya unoccupied on the bench but eschewed engagement for a guilt-ridden nod as she passed. Not even a wink? Contrition looked foreign on her exquisite features.

    Jon showed no signs of acrimony; in fact, he had perceptibly lightened in mood since deducing her perfidy.

    Upon Ril¡¯s entry, he jumped, hiding that gods awful helm at his back.

    ¡°Doc, I don¡¯t see you up to your shoulders in viscera what¡¯s the hold-up!¡± said Master.

    ¡°Kel, I was kinda anticipating healing more than cutting up dead things.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s much easier with the engine off I assure you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ you mentioned filling him with cotton and some preservation methods for slowing cell death and decay, plus loosening the joints. It kinda seems counterproductive. Do you wanna mummify him or not?¡± Jon had the blatant look of someone hiding something.

    ¡°Neither. Hop to, Bones. Blood for the blood god, skulls for my skull throne. Get it done!¡±

    ¡°Whatever,¡± dismissed Ster-sun. She placed a roll of parchment on Keya¡¯s bench before turning back to the door, speaking as she left. ¡°I think Seph likes the new earphones. When she wasn¡¯t gawking, she managed to stutter a few words. Said ¡®thanks¡¯ for the underwear too.¡±

    Jon sent a meaningful stare Keya¡¯s way, and she arrantly stared back.

    It might take philosophers and soothsayers a millennium to make rhyme or reason of a tenth of his lair. But clothes, even the blithest of peasants could understand.

    He could thank her later, Shalen-sun would be more than satisfied. Hopefully, the sizes were right; she had bought a measure and researched the methods for measuring. It was a measly bit of know-how, but it was hers alone, curated and self-taught.

    ¡°What does the note say?¡± Jon called from where he was making chalk marks on the helm.

    Keya broke the Elgelican seal. ¡°¡®Tis a land deed titled to ¡®Kay Luren¡¯. Some fallow farm area and old mill house a ways north of the river and Elgelica proper.¡±

    ¡°Fuck yes, thank you, Seph!¡± he raised a fist in the air.

    ¡°She mentions in postscript that humans cannot own land in Elgelica, as of yet. A sad state of affairs she will try remedy, but elves are nothing if not conservative.¡±

    ¡°Meh, it doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s not your real name anyway. Possession is always nine-tenths of the law. Once we¡¯re on the land, they won¡¯t want to, or be able to, get us off.¡±

    ¡°If you claim so, Master.¡± She put down the scroll. ¡°That helm is for Ril is it not? Why not just give it to her?¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°Hmm? Oh, the helm? Coz, I¡¯m not done with it yet. And her new magic juju has given me another bad idea.¡± It was vexing to sort Master¡¯s definitions of good and bad. She wondered if he even knew.

    ¡°You said you needed my help, not that I mind sitting here. Your shop is quite interesting. Might I use it of my own accord for my bows and the like?¡±

    ¡°Yeah sure, just be careful. Safety first n¡¯ all. Don¡¯t use any machines I haven¡¯t shown you yet. Speaking of bows, open those two boxes over there. Jon pointed to two slim brown crates housed in the flimsy wood they called ¡®card-board.¡¯ Kel asserted it was but paper, although that was impossible. For one, who would use so expensive a thing as paper so frivolously. For another, paper was supple like parchment, not rigid as this was. Her qualms with cardboard aside, the thought of new archery tools, rapidly raised her spirits.

    Retrieving her stainless steel knife from her belt, she quickly sliced the containers open on their seals. She admired the blades¡¯ completely uncorroded lustre before sheathing it once more. She could hardly wait to skin her first kill with it. It had been so long since she had hunted; a previously necessary vocation for sustenance but no longer.

    She peeled the brown panels back to be confronted with yet another pair of bows: one recurve and one compound!

    ¡°Master! Why do you spoil me so? I truly have no need for another two artefact bows!¡± She ran up and hugged him regardless, before becoming abashed and pulling away.

    ¡°Good, then you owe me one, and I¡¯ll hold you to that.¡± There was a mischievous smile displayed that briefly worried her, but the joy of the new masterpieces soon eclipsed it.

    ¡°You actually do need new bows, or more precisely you need magic spec bows. Keep the old ones on rift access anyway coz these ones are way above your draw strength without magic. I dunno if magic nullification is a thing world-side, but divers only exploit gimmicks, they don¡¯t rely on them. Got it?¡±

    They approached the bows. Keya barely listened as she lifted and appraised the art pieces, a dumb smile writ plain upon her cheeks.

    ¡°Master, what is this silver metal? The previous bows were black, but I sensed metal in them too. It is not steel or gods forbid silver, too light.¡±

    ¡°Had to get these babies custom made. Most of the aluminium is freshly machined, so it¡¯s not anodised or painted like the other bows. Cool story, aluminium is one of the most common metals in nature, but you never get it pure. At one point it was more expensive than gold.¡±

    ¡°More expensive than GOLD! And you make whole bows out of it!¡±

    ¡°Technical advancement is a bitch like that. Aluminium is cheap these days, for us anyway. For your world, it¡¯s practically impossible; the knowledge and tools required are simply beyond anyone¡¯s capability.¡±

    It was always like this! Why was it still like this? Just when she thought she had a grasp on the gorge between them, the gap widened.

    Just how much did he know, how much did they know? How was such depth and breadth of knowledge possible? He was but a mere thirty and some years of age, not much older than her. Where did he have the time? How was such rapid learning possible?

    ¡°You¡¯re doing that thing where I see the gears turning behind your eyes.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me, master; I believe my threshold of revelation is reaching its limit this day.¡±

    ¡°Oh, we ain¡¯t done, but I¡¯m mostly covering terms and conditions now, so you¡¯ll manage.¡± He turned sombre to get her full attention. ¡°Up until now, we were mainly faffing about, but the power in your blood is no joke. As you know, you¡¯re able to use just under one horsepower in magic alone, and you can concentrate that: in a fist, a hand, or a finger. The magic doesn¡¯t care what direction you face or whether you have leverage. No leverage¡­¡±

    Master trailed off mid-lecture, gazing up and to the side. She knew that face; something had come to him.

    ¡°¡­Anyway, when you want to understand the power you wield imagine you have that whole magic horse able to do your every bidding.¡±

    ¡°That is quite a way to think of it. A phantasmal horse, you say?¡±

    ¡°At the moment, yeah. It might climb with training; I don¡¯t know what the upper limits are. In any event, those Earthbowmen haven¡¯t got fuck-all on you. They pull 190-pound bows, which is already insane. But you? With your magic alone, you pull 410 pounds. I¡¯m converting it for you; the standardised Metric units classify these as 185kg bows.¡±

    Such power was beyond the pale! Keya had no idea when her mouth fell open, but she left it there.

    ¡°F-f-four hundred!¡± Until now, she managed forty well enough, yet never conceived of using her power with a bow. Why had that not occurred to her? My view remains obstinately narrow: a mule with blinders. I will change.

    ¡°Yeah, that should be with magic alone. I used the weight-training as a benchmark. Do it right, and you¡¯ll hardly tire. And you better fucken do it right, coz this ain¡¯t no pissy weight no more. You see this string; it¡¯s friggin stainless steel cable.¡±

    ¡°Metal string?¡± It was nowhere the craziest thing she had heard recently.

    ¡°Not an uncommon as you think. Crossbows of this weight or higher often use steel cable. But being a bow, it has the advantage of speed, versatility, and relative power¡ªlots of power.¡±

    Taut silver gut shimmered in the light, the same metal as her knife. Rustless, steel string was doubtless superior. Far less pesky oiling and waxing, if any.

    Next, he handed her a plastic bag. ¡°Gloves, chest guard, and arm guard. ¡°Wear them or buy ones that suit you better,¡± he commanded, and she obeyed. ¡°Here¡¯s a website.¡± He handed her note with a series of symbols and letters that would open a shop on the black seer glass in her room. These codes were quite valuable, like passphrases without which you could not enter an abode.

    Keya had a list of them pinned to her wall, they were a hassle to speak into the long boxes each time, but the destinations were well worth the trouble.

    ¡°Its an archery supply store,¡± said Master, ¡°get whatever you need. If you don¡¯t understand what a thing is, study up on it, or ask Evy or Lee. I want you well acquainted with your tools. Do you understand?¡± She had rarely seen Master this serious.

    ¡°I completely understand, Master.¡± If only he could be this normal all the time.

    ¡°Good, because if you slip up, that string will cut you like cheese.¡± What a dreadful thought! ¡°Head out to the HAS, and I¡¯d like to see you do fifty draws and steady releases with no arrow on each bow before the day is done. Remember, no strength, 99% per cent magic. Then come back, and I¡¯ll show you tools and parts for mounting other accessories on these beasts.

    ¡°It¡¯s go-time for our squad. There¡¯s a world of hurt out there, and it¡¯s time you brought your own pain.¡±

    ¡°I will gladly do as you ask!¡± As if she needed encouragement when it came to this! She closed and scooped up both boxes, openly displaying her enthusiasm.

    ¡°Oh, one more thing.¡± He caught her just before she left. ¡°Congratulations.¡±

    ¡°For what?¡± She turned back.

    ¡°You¡¯re probably the strongest bowmen in both my and your history. Just a thought.¡± He resumed his work as if merely mentioning the time of day.

    Keya stood in rigid, eyes wide, for long moments, until she finally willed herself leave.

 9.6 Gamma Upgrades

    With Kay off salivating over her bows in the HAS, Jon left the helm on the bench and went next door to medical.

    Ril was, as promised, shoulder-deep smeared in blood. Switched out of her heart-attack clothes she wore far more appropriate scrubs and a necessary apron.

    ¡°Ah, Bones covered in blood. What a vision to behold!¡±

    ¡°Kel! What can I do you for?¡± She made ¡®serial killer¡¯ look real sexy.

    ¡°I need to measure you up. Hold still this won¡¯t hurt a bit.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s my line,¡± she pouted ¡°You know, most diver¡¯s would be crooning at their patron¡¯s every beck and call.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, if I had an actual patron, I¡¯d probably have to do the same. I hate to admit it, but we all have our price. That¡¯s why I flatly rejected the lot. How many of them were you, I wonder?¡± He strolled over as he spoke.

    ¡°And what¡¯s your price, Kel?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t play a game you can¡¯t afford to lose, and value the valueless.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you mean priceless?¡±

    ¡°Mmm,¡± he didn¡¯t, ¡°but to answer your point. You¡¯re not my patron; you¡¯re my Sawbones. Alpha or not, I¡¯m your boss.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mind being a bottom,¡± she cocked an eyebrow.

    ¡°Right now, I just need you to stand still,¡± said Jon.

    ¡°No problem. I¡¯ll show you mine if you show me yours?¡±

    He ignored that as he moved behind her, bloodied and all, with a tape measure to get a few sizes, noting them on a pad. ¡°You could come back down with another body, you know. I can¡¯t stop you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I could. But it would cost me something, wouldn¡¯t it? The ¡®valueless¡¯ as you say.¡± Ril turned her head to the side, glancing back at him.

    Maybe this neo-junkie was getting it. Or perhaps Ril found her fix already. Either way, he could work with it.

    ¡°Look forward again, thanks." After five minutes blissful minutes without flirting, he was satisfied. "Done ty, good job. What¡¯s the tub for?¡±

    There was a body-size stainless steel bathtub on wheels, a new addition to his medbay.

    ¡°Nutrient bath for Mr Finger. I can give you a week at most. Why must he be disembowelled?¡±

    ¡°Need him as light as possible, but cosmetics still matter.¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do? My knees quaketh in anticipation.¡±

    ¡°Boy¡¯s gotta have his secrets too.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you''ve plenty already. In the interest of ¡®reciprocation¡¯, mind if I scan you?¡± She took the chance to remove the apron and wash up.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°Fine,¡± he drawled and stripped down to his underwear, climbing on the scan bed.

    ¡°If only it were this easy to get you out of your clothes in other locales.¡±

    ¡°Get it done Doc. Both you and I have work to do.¡±

    She initialised the machine. It clicked and whirred as it traversed slowly over his body. Jon utilised the time to run through a few design concepts in his head while he waited.

    Ril broke the silence, ¡°so you train in magic meditation in the morning, right? Can I join?¡±

    ¡°You will join, that¡¯s an order, not an offer.¡± Chain of command was actually pretty FUBR in this case. ¡°Please?¡±

    ¡°Jon, you have to pick a position. You can¡¯t just switch mid-stroke.¡±

    He swept his eyes sideways to see her at the console.

    A devilish smile broke on her features as she returned the gaze.

    Maneater was nowhere near adequate to describe this beast.

    ¡°So I get to train with the world-famous mage: Jonathan Kelly! I can¡¯t wait!¡± She sucked in a breath in anticipation, after which she returned to the monitors. ¡°If you¡¯re wondering what I¡¯m looking at, it¡¯s your nerve innervation. The degree to which nerves spread through your body. I¡¯ve noticed a minuscule increase in density in mine. Almost impossible to detect were it not that I know this body¡¯s composition down to the cell: recent print and all.

    ¡°Kay¡¯s were quite dense on her first scan, but there¡¯s no way of knowing if that¡¯s just morphogenic for elves or her in particular. Mr.Finger was nothing to write home about, so you are my next best comparative. We have an extensive medical history on you after all.¡±

    The scan finished, and Jon redressed.

    Ril went to her office and retrieved two items while he finished up.

    One was a clear zip seal bag containing ten shiny metal cylinders, a little larger than shotgun slugs. They had robust mounting loops on each end. Essentially, short, steel bars with a circular washer welded edgewise¡ªif the washers were coins standing on end¡ªon the two flat faces. Each was a single machined and polished piece with no outwardly visible moving parts.

    The other was an unadorned box with a power cable, lifting handle, some knobs, and dials. It looked akin to a welding power supply. ¡°Can Doctor give a lollipop to the very good little boy?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not little.¡±

    ¡°Oh hush, there¡¯s no need to be so self-conscious. I¡¯m sure you work just fine with what you¡¯ve got.¡±

    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll bite. What it is?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re plasma chambers, my fiery one.¡±

    ¡°Fuck yes, Ril. I hadn¡¯t thought of that yet.¡± He had much lower standards for his magical progression compared to Kay¡¯s. Playing with pretty lights and pyromania was the extent of his studious dabbling.

    ¡°You lie, Kel. I¡¯m sure you did, but the problem with plasma is that no one makes it just to have it. I couldn¡¯t have my man walking around glowing with fluorescence now could I. Glowing in the dark is my job.¡±

    Shaking her head in a demonstration, cascading violet shimmers ran forward and backwards in her pixie-cut. ¡°Plus broken glass isn¡¯t that fun outside the bedroom.¡±

    Jon removed and inspected one cylinder. They were not over-engineered but still weighed as much as a kiwi¡ªnot the bird or the people, but the fruit. Kiwis are really kak to use as comparatives, aren''t they; I can see why bananas are a prefered universal measure. They look like penises too, just another point in their favour. Kiwis are hairy and round¡ªagain the fruit mostly. Where was I?

    ¡°Stainless steel?¡±

    ¡°Three layers with the mid-layer being a lead jacket. We have to keep those future Jons safe from stray x-rays, My Sweet. The electrodes are piped in via rift; you can leave the power supply plugged in here and use them world-side. The tech is pretty standard 21st century fair, but I designed and fabricated them myself.¡±

    ¡°Gas and pressure?¡±

    ¡°Air at one atmosphere.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s cold plasma, like fluorescent bulbs then?¡± Such plasma was no real trouble for him; it was what he was playing with most of the time. Now, to test! He grinned.

    ¡°That it is.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Rilian, this is really¡­¡± choking the next word out, ¡°kind of you.¡± Who was he kidding she probably had an angle. Ril was all about angles in all the right places.

    ¡°So I did good, Boss? Can I get a kiss?¡± She tapped a cheek.

    He gave the briefest of pecks and scurried off with the stuff. As it was, he felt tremors running down his spine; maybe she laced her sweat glands with Ecstasy or something. You can never be too sure with Alphas. ¡°Cheers! See ya at morning practice.¡±

 9.7 Simple Pleasures

    Jon scampered back to his workshop and locked the door on his way in. Finally, some peace and quiet. He¡¯d sufficiently delegated to keep the two mischievous monsters, also known as his responsibility, busy for at least a few hours.

    At least if they fucked up, he was too far away to be initially held accountable. He was under no delusions; he eventually would be blamed. Just delaying the inevitable was required. That was the advantage of being mortal:<em style="letter-spacing: 0"> You can die before consequences catch up to you. And his partners would outlive him by a wide margin, <em style="letter-spacing: 0">suckers.

    Unfortunately, there was no escape in the medium term, but he had the afternoon to himself. Blissful solitude, how long has it been, old friend? He sighed in relief, rubbing his hands together; materials, machines, and designs would be his only companions in the interim.

    Returning to the workbench, he appraised the piece-of-shit helmet on the scarred and pockmarked tabletop; they shared a harmonious kinship in that regard. He started where all good projects began: with an angle grinder. The piece unceremoniously clamped in a dusty and soot-stained vice; he cut along the coronal plane until the faceplate clattered to the floor. The posterior portion went in the scrap bin, while the anterior faceplate was lightly sandblasted to get rid of excess rust, and other¡­ stuff he wasn¡¯t sure how to classify. This left him with what amounted to an extremely crude metal mask. Taking sharp edges to an electric grindstone and sandbelt, he rounded and polished them. A pass or two with aerosol laminate sealed the surface from further corrosive degradation. Ugly needed to be preserved, after all; otherwise, it became broken too. A last light pass with the sandblaster matted the transparent lustre, making it dull and disfigured. Jon admired a long vertical gouge in the left eye socket where a spearhead or sword had pierced it. The mask certainly made a statement. If pictures said a thousand words, then objects made conversation. This one was unquestionably talking to him.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    It said, ¡®I¡¯m not fucking finished yet, get off your lazy ass and complete me.¡¯ Tossing the thing on the table, he sauntered back to his scrap metal bin and fished for more sheet metal. No way was he gonna use new material on this project; the whole point was polishing a turd. Once he found the most mismatched and tarnished off-cuts he could, the next hour was spent laser-cutting plate steel into long slim elliptical segments and bending them on the press into semi-circular shells.

    Each segment could nest in the next one like scales of an armadillo, except they were all fastened together through two coaxial bolt hinges, the hinge axis perpendicular to the sagittal plane¡ªthe ears. When the nested assembly was placed on the back of the skull¡ªthose bolted holes, just above the ears behind the temples¡ªit allowed the round plates to telescope out and covered the head from posterior to anterior. The Corinthian faceplate was mounted to the same hinges and would swing down last, similar to a welding mask, to cover the face. It was a poor man¡¯s Ironman helmet, very poor and probably homeless too. Ironically, with the money, time, and effort already spent, it was notably quite expensive.

    The final significant component was some flexible steel conduit pipe, identical to that used with articulating showerheads. Jon cut two forearm-length pieces and attached them on the outside of the two helmet hinges. The pipes trailed back from the face to rest on the shoulders and upper back where they would be fastened to some kind of suit or backpack. He hadn¡¯t decided on that yet.

    Finishing touches involved affixing polycarbonate eye protection, welding steel mesh over the mouth, nose, and ear slits, and interior padding for comfort.

    Jon stood back to admire his abominable creation. ¡°It¡¯s alive!¡± he muttered waving his hands dramatically. Poetic license gave him leeway to interpret the arc-welding as lightning, and the design was assuredly horrendous enough to count as monstrous.

    A rust-brown and stained grey Corinthian-mech-suit helmet with mismatched and tarnished posterior telescoping and nestling segments stared back at him. Adding insult to injury, two juxtaposed, flexible, gleaming steel pipes flowed back from the ear hinges; the other ends yet to be attached.

    ¡°Gonna have to spraypaint those pipes; far too flashy.¡± He had some rust-red oxide paint just perfect for the job. After that, the piece of kak would be ready for fitting.

 9.8 Alpha Downgrades

    Rilian sat on a backless stool in the HAS. Kel dragged it in directly after their first ¡®meditation¡¯ session. Kay left for VR class earlier, so it was just the two of them in the cabin. She held still as he fiddled with fastenings around her waist.

    Morning training had been¡­ intriguing. She was over five thousand years old, but even she had never experienced that. She could feel the others as they sat in a loose circle. As though her proprioceptive sense had been loosened from the confines of her body somehow.

    What a fucking rush! It took great pains to extend it even a little through the air, but the hull of the HAS was like jumping into a placid warm lake. With her aura flowing through the composite layers of the floor, she found Kel and Kay quite quickly¡ªsitting cross-legged like her. Their auras stopped her advance, of course, but Solid was her domain.

    They could only get out the way or be pushed out of the way while she channelled through her resonant state. Even Kay with her limited earth affinity was no match on Rilian¡¯s home turf.

    There were analogues up in Alpha, but nothing like the visceral rawness of direct interaction with the forces of the universe. And, oh did she like it raw. The initial disappointment of failing at her Life magic gambit wore on her a bit. But she found those emotions gradually replaced by something she had forgotten she could even feel. What was it? Did it have a name?

    She tried to parse it out. There was the failure, the inability to change it, and then Kel immediately warming to her at the revelation. They had teased before, but it was more personal now, more genuine. He loved her failure, her greed. Why?

    ¡°Kel, why are you happier with me now?¡± He paused with tightening the corset-like nylon straps.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy: Avarice.¡± He stepped back from her to gauge alignment. ¡°To be truly selfless would be inhuman, insentient. Of all the things you might bring down to fuck with my shit, it¡¯s what you might not have that I feared the most: your humanity. You Alphas live long, forever really, it¡¯s a simple thought experiment.¡±

    Aww, he was adorable: worrying for an Alpha, like a dog fearing for its owner. No, she shouldn¡¯t think like that. He was a self-autonomous unit just as she, more primitive, but still.

    Yet, there was more to it; she felt a kind of rising tension. She was part of the picture now, one of the ''strokes on the canvass''. Her stroke had gone awry, but instead of scraping the piece, he embraced it, embraced her. The ¡®wrong¡¯ was as much fuel to his fire as the ¡®right¡¯. He consumed it all.

    It was... Rilian squeezed her legs and bit her lip as she almost climaxed right there in the stool. Talking. Yes, talking can distract me.

    ¡°So, this is an interesting vest. I didn¡¯t know you were into corsets. I¡¯ll have to make some orders.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have corsets?! Well, to be fair, your midsection would never need one. This getup, however, is a female multipoint stunt vest.¡±

    ¡°Are we making movies? I¡¯ll get the tripod set up, your room or mine?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re laying it on really thick recently, you know that? If I didn¡¯t know any better¡ªand fortunately I do¡ªI¡¯d say you¡¯re horny.¡±

    Maybe she had tweaked this body¡¯s hormones just a bit too much.

    ¡°So, why do I need the harness?¡± Rilian asked.

    ¡°Two reasons, one is future-proofing, the other is plenty places for attaching stuff. If you¡¯re gonna wear this a lot¡ªand we all are¡ªcomfort is key. So corset vest for the girls it is. You could wear it under clothes too, and we gotta let your babies be free. I doubt I could find anything more dangerous to put on your chest anyway.¡±

    He needed to stop with that shit immediately; as it was, she¡¯d have to relieve herself in the shower. He¡¯s just a simple little Gamma Boy; if I¡¯m not careful, I¡¯ll break him. Her body was a fresh virgin too. She inwardly purred.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°You feel it, don¡¯t you?¡± asked Kel.

    Jesus fucking Christ! "Ye¡ª"

    Oh. He was at her side, nodding toward the thing mounted on her back. It was a metal clump covering her upper spine, cradled in a military brown canvas pouch. She had yet to see it but could <em style="letter-spacing: 0">feel it there.

    Structural details and materials resolved in her mind as if she could almost taste them and she let slip a soft moan of delight. Two flexible metal pipes were firmly attached to the vest near her shoulder blades. Conducting her aura through them, it ran up their lengths reaching the hinges of the contraption. Its mechanistic anatomy rendered in her mind via a mix of senses: nested shells of various metals, some more comfortable¡ªtasty¡ªharmonic¡ªthan others. X-rays or CT scans had nothing on the resolution she was getting. Deriving the rustic construction in moments, she inferred how it must unfold.

    ¡°But you haven¡¯t been out since you knew. How did you¡ª?¡±

    ¡°I just saw the helm in Bron¡¯s shop and thought ¡®what is the absolute worst thing I could put on your head¡¯. I didn¡¯t think about how I¡¯d put it there; different magic would have had a different solution. Let¡¯s firstly see if you can move this thing.¡±

    There was a symmetry to all this. Did it just emerge out of the chaos with him, or was there a grander design? Did he know, or intuitively act?

    She urged her power through with greater amplification and the conscious desire to imbue; it soaked in as if the metal were absorbent ceramic. She manipulated the two articulated coil pipes like extra limbs. The feeling was not unlike flexing wings, especially where they were attached. Rilian had, of course, flapped and flown with gene-crafted wings many times, what Alpha hadn¡¯t.

    Though, even with Rilian¡¯s personal experience¡ªcontrolling extra-limbed and extended sense bodies¡ªmoving the metal took iterative trial and error with many starts and stops. She came to this world blind, sporting none of the augmented neural mappings such bodies shipped with.

    Kel patiently assisted, prodding and guiding both physically and with his aura to support her. Their amorphous influences could not simultaneously occupy the same space, exactly like their bodies. Instead, the magical boundaries ebbed and flowed around the other like sentient oil and water trying to mix. In some ways it was more intimate than sex, and that further exacerbated her flailing and flagging attempts. Ordinarily, she might grow frustrated and give up, but Kel¡¯s full attention¡ªmentally, magically, and materially¡ªwas far too precious¡ªand intoxicating¡ªto shirk.

    Finally, Ril managed to place the folded contraption on the back of her cranium; she would practice more in her own time, and Kel promised to loosen and oil the joints. She felt the padding press up to her skull¡ªher new metal arms somewhat more responsive¡ªthen she slid open the plates. Each segmented shell pulled free as it slowly covered her head until the battered, corroded, and scarred faceplate came down. Polycarbonate covered the eyes, and dull grey mesh was over the mouth and ear slits.

    Jon produced a mirror. The face was varnished and then sandblasted, preserving every flaw but giving it a matte sheen. It was ghastly, and it was the very last thing anyone would ever give an Alpha.

    ¡°Does it fit all right?¡±

    It did. Rilian nodded, words were very hard at the moment.

    ¡°To be clear, this is not to protect you; it¡¯s to protect everyone else. You wanna win any fight, don¡¯t wear it.¡±

    She stood and made the helmet slowly and carefully fold up and snuggle into its canvas hood on her back. Withdrawal was a little easier, unconcerned with the hassles of alignment.

    ¡°Smooth disengagement, could be quieter though.¡± Kel was in his world of mechanisms and machines.

    She moved over and put her hands around the back of his neck, arms on his shoulders. She was just slightly shorter than him without heels. That got his attention.

    His eyes riveted to hers, and he took a steady nasal breath. ¡°I smell scented esters coming off you. Modified sweat glands? Maybe pheromones too.¡±

    ¡°That pesky biofeedback training takes out all the fun.¡± She brushed her nose past his and pulled him close to whisper in his ear. ¡°You know, I used to sometimes tap into your olfactory feed just to smell what you smell.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t ship that feed out.¡± He nodded in contemplation. ¡°Hmm, if you weren¡¯t extremely wealthy, powerful beyond conception, and drop-dead gorgeous, I might consider you a stalker.¡±

    He could call her whatever the fuck he liked, repeatedly.

    Gently and respectfully, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms free.

    She clenched her teeth; respect was boring.

    ¡°Something wicked this way comes, Ril, I need to concentrate. But thanks for the thought; you¡¯ll knock a mule out with that smell.¡± He backed away, turned, and left. ¡°Drop it off when you¡¯re done practising,¡± he shouted out of sight.

    Rilian was deserted in HAS, left high but nowhere near dry. Honestly! If someone or something didn¡¯t fuck her brains out soon, there was going to be trouble!

 9.9 Intern

    Peter Lee was very grateful that the Alpha was separated from him by multiple universes. ¡°Thanks, Ril,¡± he spoke into to his headset.

    As it was, Internet porn was like reading the newspaper now. Hopefully, his brain would normalise again if he limited his exposure.

    ¡°You can thank Kay and Kel. They put me up to authorising your sister to assist Seph. I would¡¯ve helped myself. Alpha-side Ril could easily manage it, but Kel made a strong case for ¡®not fucken stealing honest work from the plebs¡¯, as he put it.¡±

    The reality of the matter was, Sepha had called Lee up after meeting Ril. He couldn¡¯t blame any negotiator for not wanting to sit across the table from that.

    The knowledge and connection to Ril was power enough, excessive power in fact. But, what Sepha truly needed was her own data technician.

    ¡°An Epsilon Worlder with her very own handler! Oh, what fun!¡±

    There it was. Ril was a hedonist neo-junkie just like all the rest of her kind. Could he blame her? Probably not, and now she was their hedonist neo-junkie¡ªwhat a fuckup.

    ¡°Well, Min is just as excited as you, I think. Her first job out of the academy and I¡¯ll make sure to get her acquainted with the ropes. Say ¡®g¡¯day¡¯ Min.¡± Lee raised his voice to carry across the house.

    His sister was setting up her rig in the room next door. It was Lee¡¯s house; the job paid well. Handlers were mostly left alone and could set up their operations wherever convenient.

    There were subtle security systems all about the house that ensured privacy; even Lee was unsure of all of them. One thing was certain; pissing off Upperworlders was not a smart career decision. Plus, Divers were a cash cow; it was a fantastic system no one wanted to fuck with.

    Min poked her head into his room, her long raven black hair draping like satin curtains, as only Asian hair could.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Lee switched to speakerphone and gave a side nod indicating the open mic while looking her way.

    ¡°G¡¯morning Ms van Ster!¡± said Min. Her peppy voice¡ªat least more peppy than usual¡ªbetrayed her excitement.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s past midnight here, Ms Lee but welcome to the team! I have your file in front of me; you know, you have just the cutest mop hair! I wore a lot of Asian a while back. Still have a few in my wardrobe.¡±

    Min got more comfortable leaning of the door frame, and crossing her legs. ¡°Uh¡­ thanks, I think.¡± She was being way too professional; this operation had far lower standards. He would get Min on the level afterwards.

    Lee took over the call once more, ¡°so yeah, Min will handle Sepha Shalen personally from here on out. I think it¡¯s a good call given the sensitive nature of Epsilon 30-10. Blood is thicker than Kool-aid and all that.¡±

    ¡°You get that phrase from Kel?¡± asked Ril.

    True, there wasn¡¯t a phrase from the English language Kel hadn¡¯t butchered at some point.

    ¡°Maybe you can give me the inside scoop, Lee. Does he think them up on the spot or does he construct them prior and then wait for the right opportunity.¡±

    ¡°A¡­ bit of both probably.¡±

    ¡°Yeah I suppose, tempered chaos is kinda part of his m.o. isn¡¯t it.¡±

    Min piped in, ¡°I¡¯d just like to thank you, Ms Van Ster, for the opportunity. I hope I can meet your expectations.¡±

    ¡°Oh, Ms Lee, please don¡¯t!¡± She gave a seraphic giggle and hung up.

    Min pulled in a sharp breath in panic. ¡°Holy shit! Pete, did I just fuck up?¡±

    ¡°Chillax Sis; she just wants you to do your best.¡±

    ¡°Dafaq. Why are Alphas so weird?¡±

    ¡°The real question is why they¡¯re so normal.¡±

    ¡°Bro, you make less sense than she did! Had a nice voice, though.¡±

    ¡°Be thankful that¡¯s all you were exposed to.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± She tilted her head, hair remaining vertical. It could basically be used as a makeshift spirit level. ¡°What is wrong with all you people?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re officially an Elven politician¡¯s secretary, welcome to the club. Two rules: swear more and think outside the universe. You¡¯re never gonna be normal again, so you might as well embrace the crazy.¡±

    Min gave her signature quirky smile, lifting only one corner of her mouth. That was the mischievous little sister he knew. ¡°I can do that.¡±

    ¡°Good. Show¡¯em what you got, Sis.¡±

 9.10 Herb Garden

    It was an uncharacteristically sunny day in Tsarra¡¯s garden. Dappled light strayed through the mighty Elgelican boughs to play upon her eyelids. The ferns did not wilt their lush colour throughout the year, and their island and city¡ªperchance warded by the Gods themselves¡ªwas spared much of the frigid cold and heavy snows of the mainland. But the sun was a rare gift, bestowed upon this chilly autumnal morrow! For Tsarra¡¯s old bones, it was nothing short of a divine tonic upon her soul.

    As such, being distracted from its rejuvenating glow, soured her mood immediately. The offending trio approached with a young elven maiden speaking Common to her human male. ¡°Jon, I want new gloves and better boots.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with what you have?¡± It was rather impolite of him to reply so curtly and absent honorifics¡ªlousy breeding.

    ¡°Indeed, it was originally quite adequate. However, since moving the bags to the HAS, I have bloodied my knuckles thrice this week alone.¡±

    What by the realm was the young lass doing with her hands? She had not the look of a fighter, and such violence was for men, besides.

    ¡°Ah, I see. Them contact forces be trixy on the skin, right? Say no more. I¡¯ll get it sorted. As for boots, I have an old project I¡¯d like to test on you.¡±

    A masked and hooded woman at the rear spoke, ¡°another, experiment Kel! Have I seen this one?¡± Her visage was but the remnants of an ancient and marred helm, with dark glass eyes. Strange yes, but disfigured folk might choose such garb to avoid stigma in public. Elves lived long, as did their scars. Why so tarnished a mask, she knew not; perhaps the lass was poor.

    ¡°Dunno, depends on how well you spied on me.¡±

    They were a strange lot indeed, and now they approached Tsarra Luren in her humble herb garden. Orist, the young lad she employed to attend to her shop, likely directed them here. He was still an inexperienced boy of but fifty years; she would have to admonish him for not chasing such rabble away. This garden was a sacred place, not for uninvited outsiders.

    ¡°Please begone from this place; these herbs are more valuable than you have coin to spare. Jailing you lot will not repay the damages.¡±

    ¡°Ooh, cold reception, Ms Luren,¡± said the man to his mistress.

    A Luren! That elucidated a few things. Still, anyone might pose as one. Spies had done just so on occasion. Tsarra needed confirmation. ¡°And what might another Luren want of this old hag?¡± She moved off from her preening and found her outdoor table and chair. Cuttings and dirt lay strewn across it.

    ¡°Ah, forgive me. My name is Kay Luren. The young man of the shop indicated we might find Luren Tsarra-sena here. Do I address the very same?¡±

    Well, at least she was polite. Someone had hammered manners into the girl.

    ¡°You do indeed find her here. And what might a child claiming to be a Luren want of me?¡±

    Her cohorts hung back. The man swayed idly, arms crossed, gazing at the garden, while the other examined the nails of her immaculate hands. Those fingers had never seen a day of work in their life. A Noblewoman wearing such mundane clothing? Bah! She was decidedly human given her height and figure, and all humans were a peculiar bunch. She paid them no further mind.

    ¡°I come to learn of the Luren family. I am a¡­ distant relation of the late Ralfen Luren and he spoke of his kin that remained in Elgelica.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Ralfen! Now there was a name to bring back memories, both good and bad. This lass best not be toying with old Tsarra. She had more than enough of that dross over the years.

    ¡°He¡¯s passed then? Proof.¡± She laid open her soiled hand. ¡°You come bearing that name, then you come with proof or leave this place forthwith.¡± The girl hesitated, and the human man spoke next.

    ¡°One sec, Kay.¡± He pulled a curious black orb from his pack and staked it in the dark soil at his feet. ¡°Clear. I hope. Drop the alias, show her everything. We got your back.¡±

    Who was he to order an elf like that! Why I should drown him where he stands for the cheek! Tsarra sent forth her magic to the nearby stream.

    ¡°Thank you, Master,¡± was her preposterous reply, and the masked woman let loose a puerile giggle.

    Just what elf would stoop so low to call a human ¡®Master¡¯, and in Elgelica no less! ¡°Best you start jabbering, or I¡¯ll drown the lot of ya.¡± They seemed unperturbed by her threats, further proving their ignorance. Tsarra was a senior member of the Fire Fenders; drowning heads was paltry compared to pushing it up trunks. <em style="letter-spacing: 0">Perhaps I should just blast them, where did I leave my siphon?

    ¡°My true name is Keya Ces.¡±

    A Ces now! She halted mid-stride in her preparations. They were digging themselves only deeper. She turned back. ¡°The Ces line is dead lass; you best try lying better than that. I saw them all dragged from their homes and executed for witchcraft.¡±

    The man shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re hearing this shit, Ril. I swear, a world full of magic and they still burn witches!¡±

    The girl persisted. ¡°¡®Tis no lie Luren-sun. Ralfen was my grandfather. Here is the note he bore with me as we left nigh 20 years ago.¡± She produced an aged piece of parchment.

    Tsarra read it ferociously, and her hands started shaking.

    ¡°I was very young; I did not know we fled at the time. It was but an adventure for my blithe mind. What you say puts the note¡¯s allusions to rest.¡±

    Did Ralfen manage to sneak the wee babe out? Could it be?

    ¡°The book?¡± It was the final clue, no one but a true heir would have it. She thought of all the tomes lost to the fires. Did a seed of it mayhaps survive? Sure enough, a small leather-bound book found her quaking hands. She peeked but a smidge inside confirming the green text. She knew not its magic, but only they could bring it forth. ''Twas knowledge forbidden by the Council in those days, and she dare not know more.

    Tsarra felt the dread of years prior return. ¡°My dear Ces-sun, ¡®tis still not safe here. Why did you return so soon?!¡±

    ¡°Called it!¡± said the man. ¡°The flags must''ve activated shortly after entering the city.¡±

    The mask replied, ¡°Kel, the worlds are far more autonomous than you realise. Story metaphors only go so far.¡±

    ¡°You still owe me a massage.¡±

    ¡°Mmmm,¡± came the mask¡¯s salacious reply.

    The Ces daughter returned her attention. ¡°Worry not Luren-sun. Worthy allies accompany me.¡±

    Tsarra was quite unsure of that.

    Said allies agreed. ¡°I am many things Kay, but worthy is not one of them.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you know what I mean, Master! Shut your silly mouth, that I may inquire.¡±

    ¡°You speak to your Master like that?¡± Tsarra was getting very confused with who was high and who was low. Best to ignore the whole subject. ¡°Perish my question. If you are a Ces, then you are hunted. By whom I do not know, but they are powerful within Elgelica. You¡¯ll not resist them with two humans alone, mages or no.¡±

    ¡°Why am I hunted?¡±

    ¡°Your blood is considered impure. Perhaps you know not, but among some of your line, wicked and potent magic is said to come forth. ¡®Tis feared by some: considered anathema to the Gods. That is all I know and all I can say.¡± She returned the items. Perhaps there was a slim hope that this girl might escape her parents¡¯ fate.

    ¡°Speak no more of this, and leave Elgelica while you still can!¡± She shooed them off.

    Reluctantly, they left. The man pulled his black curio from the ground as they departed.

    She held little hope for the bright-eyed elf, a timid and weak thing. Returning to Elgelica had likely sealed her fate.

    I am sorry, heir of House Ces. This old wench is but a cowardly elf. Blessings of the Gods go with you. She shook her head and returned to her plants.

 10.1 Bait

    An elven man drunkenly shuffled up and down a dark alleyway in the early Elgelican evening. His head lolled a bit as he sidled, quite heavily, from limb to limb.

    The blind alley in question was the first acceptable locale near the Highland Cask. No real vantage from above, and only one way in. The man still wore neon blue paint on his face, but the black eye patch was new, as was the embedded camera.

    Jon watched the video feed in his HUD while gazing down across the enchanting evening bustle. He was alone, leaning on the balustrade of a second-story wooden walkway.

    ¡°Master, this is decidedly disgusting! I swear upon the gods, I will never owe you another favour!¡±

    ¡°Now, look who¡¯s making false pledges.¡±

    ¡°How about you try sticking your hand up a dead, rotting chicken and then make it walk!¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you just compared your fellow elf to a chicken! Have you no respect for the late Mr Finger!¡±

    ¡°Oh, the gall! I would not do this, even for Master¡¯s sake, were there no other way.¡±

    The investigation, just like Mr Finger, was at a dead-end. The arrow could have been randomly or specifically chosen. It was merely a data point but nowhere enough. Tsarra had given them better bearings, but there was no guarantee they were the same insidious powers.

    Chances were high though, and Jon had a wicked flyfishing idea he wanted to try out. Hence why cold and heavy-of-hand Light-Finger ambled once more on the streets of Elgelica.

    Kay was nearby, pretending to browse a street-level store. Her transmission range was actually pretty good if not that articulate. Also, with Finger not very alive anymore, her efficiency had taken a hit. Had they waited any longer even this much would not be possible. Zombie-finger¡¯s liquescing innards gave him the grace of a sack of potatoes regardless of his ¡®empty¡¯ stomach.

    ¡°Min? Are you in chat?¡±

    ¡°Hey there, Kel!¡± Fresh blood was always lovely to have, and Finger naturally didn¡¯t count. Neither did Ril for that matter. Fuck that bitch, no wait; I take that back. Multiverse forgive me!

    ¡°How goes ¡®Finger¡¯s return¡¯ on the informant network?¡±

    ¡°Faelyn was hard to convince, but he leaked the info this morning. The network should be well saturated by now.¡±

    Informants, as the name implied, sold information, and when you had one main product, more buyers was always better; nothing stayed secret forever. Eventually, the cat got out of the bag. To prevent this, sometimes they killed the cat while still in the bag and then burned the remains. Jon did not want to be that cat, so he was making the first move. In this case, he was making a corpse move.

    Zombie Finger had both a camera and a mic installed in the eye patch. The video was piped to their HUDs so that all parties could see, everyone except Finger of course.

    ¡°Master, why have we shirked subtlety? I am getting looks with this visor on. And the heels on these boots are a bit high for comfort; they are also quite the cumbersome affair. You are fortunate I am strong even without focus.¡±

    Badass Kay, he couldn¡¯t deny it. The prospect of seeing her gear in action filled him with delight. This must be what Alphas chased after.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°We have backing from Seph, and Phase One quarantine comes down in a few weeks. Phase Two is benchmarking and testing.¡±

    Ril spoke. ¡°What he means my feisty little Kay is that we want to push this world hard and fast. See where her limits lie, play hard, and go a little loco.¡±

    ¡°Ril-chen, please don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but sometimes you make less sense than Master.¡±

    Jon smiled. ¡°I¡¯m trying to scientifically quantify your world¡¯s magic system. That means playing with its mechanics and seeing what works. This knowledge has become more tactically valuable than subtlety as of now. Not to mention more lucrative.¡±

    ¡°Ah, thanks for reminding me, Kel.¡± Ril¡¯s HUD chat icon blinked as she spoke. ¡°We gotta start getting better video.¡± A ruffling sound followed by many insectoid buzzing noises could be heard on Ril¡¯s end before dispersing.

    ¡°You brought cam flies?¡±

    ¡°¡®Course Kel, production-value is very important! Fear not, my Treat; they¡¯ll stick to the action and privacy laws.¡±

    ¡°¡®Kam flies¡¯?¡± They were Beta and Alpha tech; even most Gamma civs would be no wiser. For some reason, he trusted Ril not to abuse their use, though he could not, for the life of him, think why.

    ¡°They¡¯re cameras in the form of average-looking flies. Can capture high resolution and high-speed video. With the right software¡ªuh, incantation¡ªyou can also sift the noise of their wings from the sound. In short, Ril wants to make us into movie stars.¡±

    ¡°I have mixed feelings on this, Master.¡±

    ¡°That you should, Kay, that you should.¡±

    ¡°Aww, you two are no fun! But if it¡¯s just for us, that¡¯s fine too. We¡¯ll discuss it later, mkay.¡±

    Pragmatism landed somewhere in the middle; a bit of limelight gave them throwing weight and justified exclusivity. There was all sorts of branding bullshit that came into the mix. Marketing and PR: hot and steamy subjects!

    Fuck it, more kak for future Jon and Ril to sort. Let him enjoy the ride for now.

    ¡°We can go over the ¡®details¡¯ when I give you that ¡®massage¡¯ Kel.¡±

    Bliksemse fok, if other women sent signals, then Ril was sending laser beams. He just wished she would stop masturbating in the shower, or at the very least stop moaning so loud. Either way, a white whale cometh and he doubted Kay had the tools nor seafaring know-how to harpoon the bitch.

    Dear lord, he was fucked, and he was going to get fucked. Why couldn¡¯t she have been ascetic? But that was a stupid idea, who made video game characters to join a nunnery?

    Mercifully, someone finally moved into the alley to face Zom-Finger. ¡°We have contact, ready positions, girls.¡±

    The camera angle was tilted, given the dead man¡¯s neck didn¡¯t work so good no more, but the sound was perfectly fine.

    ¡°I was certain I put you down Light-Finger. Yet, you survive only to be far too dumb flee the city. This time, rest assured I will do a thorough job.¡±

    Mr Finger didn¡¯t reply; he needed lungs and breath for that. A half shuffle was all he managed before an arrow found his skull, jerking the camera violently.

    ¡°Play dead, let him approach.¡±

    Kay acquiesced, and the camera rolled up to an early evening sky, the microphone registering a meaty thud as skull hit cobblestones. They heard the steps as the dark silhouette loomed into view. Visuals were not ideal, given the gloom. Conversely, it also hid Mr.Finger¡¯s terminal condition.

    The dead elf was not without his final gifts either. Each hand was gloved with simple radio trackers placed in the palms. Their adhesive faces were mounted outward on light cradles ready to hitch a ride. The shadowed man knelt, gleaming knife in hand. They got a better view, but that was not the point.

    ¡°Now!¡± said Jon.

    Mr Finger did his final undead duty, lurching up to slap a boot and limb with each hand. Hopefully, one tracker would stick. The shocked man frantically dug his dagger deep into Finger¡¯s chest, again and again, eventually gasping for breath.

    ¡°That¡¯s was wonderfully done, Kay.¡±

    ¡°Never again, Master!¡±

    ¡°At least not until the next set of bows.¡±

    ¡°You conniving man!¡±

    He chuckled, teasing Kay was fun. ¡°Alright, my necromantic novice move in and give the rat a scare. He¡¯s got a maze to run.¡±

 10.2 Run with Your Life

    All members had a part to play in the pursuit. Keya¡¯s was literally central. She approached the alley where the shadowed scoundrel had tried to unceremoniously rekill Mr Finger. Her bearing was away from the city limits and toward its centre. The man might go to ground if given a chance; they needed him panicked and scared, or so Master said. She just wanted to test out her new boots.

    Athletic yet demure clothing freed her motions, save for a slim backpack. Within it was her rift, under a simple clasped flap. Further, a water tube, ending in a ''nozzil'', trailed from the bag to her shoulder. Indeed, ''twas a far more expedient solution than traditional waterskins.

    She unhitched clasps on the metal heels of her ponderous boots, and they extended from cylindrical ¡®pistons¡¯ along her calf as she lifted each foot. As she treaded forth, they cushioned her steps producing soft ''sighs'' with each stride.

    It felt as if walking on hay, but smoother and cleaner. The toes of each boot were grounded, giving her purchase and stability, while the arches and heels were raised. The overall design was broadly similar to the elegant high heels Ril had worn on their first acquaintance, but Keya¡¯s were brutish metal and grey plastic abominations¡ªshe liked them.

    The toe and heel tread was a substance like hardened pitch formed in ridges. Instead of being inflexible, though, it yielded and gripped the cobblestones underfoot.

    Master insisted on the protective pads covering her knees and elbows, but her elven balance had adjusted quite quickly to traversing on raised heels.

    Readied and assured of her motions, she steeled her senses to spy her quarry. The alley of the ''heinous'' deed lay obscured given her angled approach, but she shouted regardless.

    ¡°Murderer! There¡¯s been a murder!¡± Heads on the mostly empty street turned abruptly at her proclamation, but she ignored them for the darkened passage in her sight.

    Sure enough, the scoundrel fled the alley at the sound. He turned out only to encounter her some ten yards away.

    Keya bore down upon him knowingly; her countenance was surely quite a sight: strange bulbous boots, padded limbs, and her visor with lights flitting upon the glass. In the flitting candlelight of early evening, she faced off against an elven assassin.

    He produced a sharp gasp in dismay and scrambled the other way almost immediately.

    Keya felt her chest hitch with furore and gave chase.

    ¡°Okay,¡± said Master¡¯s voice in her ear. ¡°Start gradually; we¡¯re trying to box him in, not catch him. Run on the toes and land on the heels, like we practised.¡±

    Her pace was slow at first. The boots encumbered her initial advance, but she felt them capture the exertion of each stride. As she loped, they released a kick with each step: not much, just enough that keeping pace required less effort.

    The bowman ran ahead, taking a corner left, and she followed at a leisurely pace¡ªfor her at least. The boots gripped the cobblestones like soot on a kettle.

    Each bound produced a longer stride, and her limbs casually ate up the distance.

    ¡°Very nice. Ril sent me a Cam Fly feed; I got you on screen.¡±

    Through her visor, she did not see the video in question, but a dull, faded line map was floating in a bottom corner of her periphery. She had moved the floating phantasmal sheet around to best suit her preferences. The red dot of her quarry and her green could be seen wading through the greyed transparent page. She felt the thrill of the chase build within her, gods this was fun!

    ¡°Let¡¯s try some small jumps.¡±

    They had not the space to do much practice in secret. Some stationery leaps in Bron¡¯s yard was all they could manage. So at first, she remained conservative in the application of this new technique: a light bound on flat cobblestone in a mostly empty street. One push and she sailed about three yards, but height was more critical for this hunt. She used no magic, and the visor registered sixty-one hundredths of Master¡¯s metres of measurement.

    It was a comfortable leap for her, more so that the boots took the landing without complaint. She smiled despite the situation. Townsfolk gasped as she flew by.

    Streets became busier as they moved closer to the evening market. The bowman took a right and skimmed past an obstructing cart that crossed the path.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°You¡¯ll need a bit of power to clear that. Remember, legs to the side and plant.¡±

    Having jumped tree limbs before; this was little different. As the cart approached, she first leapt with strength alone. Then, just as she cleared the stones, she dumped in a fourth of her magic. Instead of imbued feet alone, she pulled up across the entirety of her aura, lifting her body as one. She felt the extra tug mid-air. The shock made her waver, but she righted and kept balance; branch leaping was a childhood pastime, after all.

    The aforementioned empty cart passed under her, and she lightly planted hands on its wooden beams as she drifted over, her feet to the side. The driver let out an irksome yell, though she was many paces away ere he could turn to see.

    ¡°Sweet, 1.14 metres on that one. Nice plants. Bear left again.¡± Keya preened, before mercilessly beating the naive emotions aside. Her trial was not yet passed, and there was much to concentrate on. Master''s guidance was nevertheless welcome, and the praise a little more so. Keya twitched a grin as she barreled past milling groups.

    On the map, she saw her cohorts shadowing left and right in parallel paths slowly herding the culprit. Perhaps the bowman had yet spotted neither, for he only glanced perilously back at her. I cannot blame him.

    Glimpsing the perpetrator through crowds and carts, she saw him call upon guards ahead. ¡°I¡¯m being chased! Stop her!¡±

    He ran between them before they could react, but they would assuredly obstruct her.

    Keya grimaced, but another voice commanded. ¡°Get the runner! Forget the girl!¡± ¡®Twas Nym of Sepha¡¯s charge on horseback. Naturally, Faelyn-sun and Sepha-sun were on hand, if only in the shadows. They cast the wider unseen net.

    Confused and flustered by the commotion, the guards dallied; they would yet halt her, even if unintentionally.

    And I would like to see them try. A more vigorous leap and pull sent her up on approach. She cleared their helmets without even needing hand plants. Lack of mid-air purchase made her flail until she inadvertently used magic once more. Blanketed in her power, she adjusted and stabilised mid-flight with minute pulls and prods.

    ¡°A solid 1.74 metres, wow!¡±

    ¡°Aah! My gorgeous Kay!¡± Ril was incorrigible.

    The guards let out bewildered yelps, but Kay was over six yards away before even touching the ground. Toes grasped the worn stones tentatively and then momentum favoured the heels as her weight followed. A slate slab cracked and crunched underfoot. The fall arrested and with its power stowed, she leaned onward: the sprung metal creaked and then launched her into an advancing sprint.

    That one could store the power of motion so, beggared belief. Keya would think it a fictive tale were she not wearing the Gods damned things herself.

    Further terrified glimpses from the man, indicated his accession. He undoubtedly realised he could not outrun her, so they rushed on into busier streets as they reached closer to the city centre. The wily man was yet to be outdone.

    Kay spied a stone and wrought iron palisade ahead of him. It spanned between the massive trunks of Elgelica¡¯s ferns, and there was but one heavy wooden door in its centre. He rushed through and grabbed the inner locking beam as he swung it shut.

    Curses, she blew out a frustrated huff.

    ¡°That¡¯s good enough Kay. Either Ril or I will tail him from the other side.¡±

    However, it was not good enough for Keya; she did not slow but sped forth.

    ¡°Kaaay?¡± Master cautioned.

    This time she leapt with all her might, aiming for a stone pillar to scramble up if need be. She dumped all her power as she left the ground and burst beyond like an arrow loosed through the air.

    She¡­ soared, onlookers screamed or stared mortified; children gazed on in wonder. All could be witnessed, for there was plenty time to contemplate her folly. The numbers on her visor passed three, her heartbeat raced, and the world almost slowed. Liberated of the solemn earth and its weighty humdrum, she floated in the air for precious seconds. Tales will be told of what they saw this night, and they will be of me.

    ¡°Double Jump, Baby!¡± came Master¡¯s cheer, despite his earlier admonition.

    There was a garbled mash of exclamations in her ears. Giggles, cursing, and awe came through the headphones and from nearby.

    Now to land. The palisade¡¯s paltry obstruction lay past and forgotten. On the other side, she spied a yard.

    The chased man peered up awestruck, his hood falling away: a long-haired blond elf. Sense rapidly returning; he rushed for an exit.

    There was flat ground in view, but her arc did not take her there. Instead, a heap of hay met her limbs, and she covered her face as she fell deep into the light brown turf. Grunting as she came to a stop, it took her some moments to extricate herself. If only I hit the cobblestones!

    ¡°Ja, hay¡¯s not that fun.¡± How did Master have all this time to talk was he not chasing too? She saw his blue dot on the map; sure enough, it was keeping pace.

    She rushed through the door, out of a shop, and into the street. It bustled with a crowd of people. The map indicated a red dot ahead, but she could not spy him with her eyes.

    ¡°I cannot move quickly through this crowd.¡± Were she to bound through these people with her boots, she was sure to bound through someone.

    Jon replied, ¡°Roger, go as fast as you can. Over¡±

    Watching the red dot, it suddenly split in two.

    Lee spoke up. ¡°The trackers have split. Ril: Red 2. Kel: Red 1. Kay, bring up the rear. Over.¡±

    In the tight grouping of the crowd, one of the trackers must have torn free, both however moved. Unanimous affirmations reached her ears.

    Kay received a wealth stares from the evening bustlers. Covered in hay and her arcane garb, she could expect no less. Ignoring them, she pushed into the crowd. Meanwhile, the others would harry the prey in her stead.

 10.3 Gambolling Glamour Girl

    Kay and Kel had been holding out, keeping her tied up with all those corpses in his freezer while they practised magic in secret.

    Why hadn¡¯t her meta-mind notified her? Was it hoarding the feeds? Why the sly dogs the lot of them!

    Someone was getting punished after all this, and Rilian decided it would be Kel. But that would come later; currently, there was a game of tag to play.

    She moved through the streets masked. It was so tempting to take it off; she wanted to see their reactions. That first glimpse of her was a priceless expression she relished: something Kel had also deprived her of. He showed her irritation, pain, glee, and impassivity, never awe.

    As if he did not look up, or down on her; Instead, he gazed through, neither aggressive nor placating. If only he knew how much like an Alpha that was. Honest pleasure, he reserved for the act of creation. Rilian stole glances when he contemplated the many designs floating about in his skull. God, he turns me on.

    Focus Rilian. Her priority was the task at hand. Perhaps she could expend some frustration in exertion now, and shower later. She picked up the pace to a brisk jog and aimed to corner Red 2. Her HUD was directly piped to the visual cortex, no need for convoluted low tech optics. Even so, it was a rather primitive one. She casually glanced at the overlay while picking up speed.

    Of the many skills and muscle memory grafted into her body, the art of moving and acrobatics was naturally one of them. Naming conventions across the multiverse varied, but the principles were the same, and she had the best athletic body money could buy. Actually, that wasn¡¯t true; Alphas didn¡¯t trade in material goods but in favours, and Cousin Leren¡¯s art had not slipped.

    Rilian felt her Olympic limbs flex as they warmed from exertion swiftly reaching peak performance.

    Her hood pulled back in the rush of air, revealing the dull lustre of her helm and faceplate with its multiple articulated metal plates.

    She made it bob and jostle in sync, so it did not jar on her head as she ran. The metal flex-tube limbs clamped to her vest supported it further. In all, solids in contact with her body¡ªmetals in particular¡ªfelt like a second skin. A dull tactile sense even permeated what she imbued. Extended kinesthetics were the domain of transhuman worlds and up, but nothing near this visceral.

    She barely breathed harder as streamlined metabolics burned through tweaked energy stores, pumping ample oxygen and glucose to her optimised muscle fibres.

    The intercept path led around the periphery of the market, so streets were less crowded compared to Kay¡¯s feed. She angled to meet up with Red 2 as it came out from the block ahead of her.

    An idle horse tied to a cart obstructed the road. Bursting to a mild sprint, Rilian dove and vaulted off its rump, making a casual twist as she flew through the air and landed without so much as a pause.

    People¡¯s shouts and guffaws trailed behind her as she reviewed footage from the cam flies.

    The jump was alright; it could go on the highlight reel perhaps. Rilian had been looking for Kel since she released the micro-drones, with no luck as of yet. More interference from her cloud, possibly? Had Kel done something else he would need to pay for? Likely a bit of both; he was also furthest from her as they herded the suspect. The cameras would find him soon enough.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    She rounded a bend and felt her shoes and their steel runner spikes dig into the ground; they were an extension of her. Aura soaked the paving and moss ridden dirt with each stride giving her traction akin to cold welding as she adhered and detached.

    She never slipped or skidded¡ªunless she wanted to¡ªand could dart through the bystanders like a printer head across paper. Twisting and turning; a wall run here, or a flip for some spice. There had not been a place to stretch her legs since birth, so the exhilaration was ecstatic as she ran and laughed.

    Such amusements were over all too soon as she caught sight of the chased hare.

    ¡°Red 2 is the target. Over,¡± she said. Cam flies could have flown ahead of course, but where is the fun in that. No, they were for production value only, she refused to tarnish this art piece with shortcuts. Besides, the goal was for the runner to see them, not the other way around.

    ¡°Roger, Red 1 is confirmed to be a kid,¡± said Kel. ¡°Proceeding to Red 2. Over.¡±

    The suspect attempted to blend into the crowd, hood up again and an Airbow held down at his side its extended wooden pipe identifying the type. He hurried between the people but not enough to jostle or draw attention.

    Misty dew-like drizzle began falling on everything, a common occurrence in Elgelica. The natural climate of England was further exacerbated by the terraformed super forest in its midst.

    The bowman had yet to spot her, as she too blended into the crowd and advanced on him deftly. The smooth-worn and slick paving might have posed a slipping hazard were she not a Solid Mage. Her spiked soles pierced through the thin aquaplane and adhered like carpet.

    ¡°Ril, you have a backup tag? Over.¡±

    ¡°Why is everyone ¡®over¡¯?¡± asked Kay.

    A wry chuckle was Rilian¡¯s only response.

    Kel was silent.

    ¡°Yes Kel, I have one in hand. I¡¯ll make sure to give a proper greeting! Over.¡± She stealthily sidled close to the diminutive elf and with a substantial wind-up gave the hardest ass slap she could manage.

    It contained considerable kinetic force and sent the elf sprawling across the wet stones. He yipped with the stinging pain on impact, and his bow flew from his hands and clattered away.

    Other folks just stood about transfixed with the bizarre sight. Who slapped butts that hard in public after all. I do. Skipping gaily to the bow, Rilian scooped it up. Her first souvenir! There was a wall in medical she cleared just for the purpose.

    ¡°Did you just spank our poor perp?!¡± Kel was incredulous. ¡°Over!¡±

    ¡°You be quiet, young Gamma. Yours will come later.¡± She turned to the elf as he got to his feet. She lifted her faceplate, and a cam fly captured the swirling glow of her pink and blue eyes in the deep shade. ¡°Light-Finger sends his regards, little man.¡±

    Wonder and terror imprinted the assassin¡¯s expression. Now that was a face she could relish! The aghast elf scrambled to his feet and ran for his life.

    ¡°This is no time for selfies! I can see you doing bliksemse poses in the street!¡±

    Just where was he? His ping was almost on top of her. She glanced around. ¡°The RF tag is properly secured. Over.¡±

    ¡°Until he fucken sits, you mean!¡± She heard his voice above.

    That devious man! He was tracking across the bridges and walkways on the second level. One of the microdrones climbed to focus on him.

    ¡°There you are, my naughty little Diver!¡±

    ¡°Can someone please explain what ¡®over¡¯ means!¡± piped Kay.

    Quirky Kay, that was going on the highlight reel too. Rilian didn¡¯t bother following the target anymore.

    ¡°Go Kel! Show us what you¡¯ve got.¡± She pumped the air.

    ¡°Fucking help damn it!¡± She watched him run across a rope bridge in the street ahead.

    ¡°But my legs are sooo tired! Meet you at the rendezvous.¡± Her voice was treacle. The faceplate flapped shut, and Rilian headed for the spire with her trophy.

    ¡°Donnerse fok Ril, you owe me two massages you hear! Two!¡±

    Trading more favours was he? She would make an Alpha out of him yet. Would I?! Is that what she wanted?

    There was much to think on. Delightful and debauched fantasies played across Rilian¡¯s cognition as she skipped away.

 10.4 Sting Like a Butterfly

    Jon managed to avoid the cam flies up to this point, and he could tell because Ril wasn¡¯t rolling round in abject ecstasy on the street. As he passed over her, he stuck to the gantries and walkways strung between the trees. That was not going to last for very long. Ril had given the sorry cunt one hell of a literal ass whooping that sent him scuttling. If only I could run away from her too. Still, he was losing the bastard, and a long block of arboreal buildings obstructed Kay. It was up to him.

    Adjusting the stunt vest, he sped up. The whole getup was all clammy and wet. Where his sweat ended, and the damp outside began was anyone¡¯s guess. Plasma lugs were attached to key areas on his midsection so as to best cradle his centre of mass¡ªthe multipoint nylon loops allowed for a generous selection of opportune mounting points. Six of the buggers were fastened to him.

    Secret testing in the HAS gave him proof of concept, and earlier practise during the pursuit gave him assured confidence as he ran headlong toward a ledge. The ground below was a substantial four-metre drop as he glanced over wood and rope railings.

    Reaching just beyond his body, he found the plasma in each lug as they positively glowed in his psyche and then, according to his will, he sent the contents up. The plasma buoyed the cylinders they were in, and they, in turn, pulled on the vest, and the garment housed a person; specifically, an arsehole insane enough to try this in the first place.

    The lift was inexorable, and he rapidly became lighter on his feet. A little more and he lost traction on the planks, so he supplemented with a slight forward vector. The edge approached, and he launched with one foot on a beam sending him up and over the edge. Then there was only air below him, damp ozone-filled air, but damn, he was soaring like a dream.

    ¡°Holy fuck, fuck, fuck, Kel! You arsehole! You cunt! You bitch ass fucking shitting cunt! How long did you know!¡± Ril screeched over comms. Obviously, she had him on video now.

    Jon winced at the noise. I¡¯m found out.

    ¡°Dear gods Master, you fly!¡± He had only shared his plans with Lee, that sick cunt was trustworthy. Ril was probably racing back to find him, served the capricious bitch right.

    Some locals spied him, but he was above the lamplight. Anyone who did likely doubted their senses. At least that was the kind of stares he was getting: blank disbelief, and utter terror.

    Jon kept elevation steady and worked with his momentum instead. Twisting and turning were variables under his control in the vest. Unlike a stunt man who had another bastard pulling on his wire for lift, Jon had direct and instant feedback. Plus there were no pesky pulleys or tangled cables to limit his swing: a parachute without the ¡®chute¡¯, or the ¡®para¡¯. He floated unhindered on infinite wirework. Buddha be praised! The Kung Fu movies made here would be epic!

    Pumping in a bit of power raised his height between the second and third levels of Elgelica. That way bridges, railings obstructed less of his weightless drifting. The hulking trunks were perfect push-off points as he darted above the busy street below. Light wall-runs with push-offs around bends were the best way to change momentum.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Jon opened discussion while he floated and dove in the half-light, he was gaining on the target once more. ¡°Kay, has no one ever tried flying?¡±

    ¡°Flying is for birds, Master! You are simply insane.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t argue with that. ¡°You haven¡¯t had your Da Vinci yet have you?¡±

    ¡°Is it another one of your pills? I fail to see the relevance,¡± replied Kay.

    His apprentice needed history lessons, not Romcoms and K-pop. I am to blame, I usually am.

    ¡°Your genius inventors and discoverers would have, or should have, managed this.¡±

    ¡°Our world is fractured between the races, Master. Unlike yours, they do not share history and knowledge. Rather it is coveted and secreted away. You are the only genius I know. Surely the only one mad enough to meld magics as you do.¡±

    ¡°Our magnificent little mad scientist!¡± said Ril, but she didn¡¯t get a vote.

    A disbelieving scoff escaped Jon¡¯s lips. I¡¯m a bloody low bar.

    Kel didn¡¯t have the kind of punch in Mage Power that Kay did. Finally having a way to test his power physically, let him measure around five hundred Watts; it topped out as he warmed up.

    The test he devised was simple; he hooked a plasma lug to weights and saw how high he could lift the load in one second. Like horsepower was tested but without the horse. He could lift himself, but it was slow.

    Am I complaining about being able to fucking levitate? My, how the mighty fall¡ªtechnically ¡®float¡¯.

    Regardless, stumbling upon the burst of energy Kay used for her jumps was an accident.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry girls I was testing out different Draw methods. Kay used Impulse Draw while I¡¯m using the traditional Mage Power Draw.¡±

    ¡°You are telling us everything when we get back, Kel! Everything, you hear!¡± said Ril.

    ¡°Master, for once, I am in complete agreement with the goddess.¡± He wondered if pizza or cake would still appease Kay. Ril was a lost cause.

    Pseudoflying made following the bowless bow dude a pedestrian affair. Jon found himself slowing so he would not overshoot. As he hovered almost above the man, he retrieved his sidearm.

    It was a bulbous thing because it was not a gun per se. Lazily sighting just ahead of the perp¡¯s path Jon squeezed the trigger. A neon blue splat hit the ground in front of the bowman, and he fell backwards in fright.

    Next, he announced for the man to hear, ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking: ¡®Birds don¡¯t shit neon blue.¡¯ And ¡®I just killed a man twice for the crime of wearing this colour.¡¯¡±

    The elf looked up, seeing Jon casually glide to a stop, standing on nothing.

    ¡°Light-Finger says ¡®Hi¡¯.¡±

    A completely unhinged trilling scream gradually built and then bellowed from the shitless sod.

    Some bystanders had similar reactions but none so visceral.

    The bowman desperately scampered away on all-fours.

    To sell it as no mere delusion, Jon drifted to the ground and gently touched down.

    Bow Dude fled the scene like a cat scared by a cucumber.

    The stunt harness had caught a bit under one leg, and Kel idly scratched his ass. Ahhh, that¡¯s the spot.

    ¡°Kel, I can see you, you know,¡± said Ril.

    ¡°Yeah? Well, keep watching. Our Ebenezer has officially been visited upon by his ghosts. Four of them if you count Finger. Let¡¯s see who he goes to for repentance, or sanctuary more like. Min get Sepha to put out an APB. Over.¡± He holstered the paint gun and made for the rendezvous.

    ¡°What the damned Gods does ¡®over¡¯ mean!¡± asked Kay.

    ¡°It means it¡¯s over. Over.¡±

    ¡°Master!!!!¡±

 10.5 Bored Room

    Pete was the best god damn brother ever! The shit she had seen in the last few days alone was off the charts!

    Min relished the thought of how those stuck up bitches at the academy would react if they saw her now. They were all aiming for those cushy Beta jobs. Yet here I am on the ground of an Exotic world, and it¡¯s my first assignment no less! There were all kinds of epic shit going down, and Min was soaking up every bit of it.

    Speaking of which the Elgelican design of Sepha¡¯s dining hall was fantasy as fuck! She and Shay (Sepha¡¯s childhood nickname) got to talking tons, not like Lee and Kel. Those two could spend a day in the same chat room and not say a bloody word, how the hell guys managed that, she would never know.

    Anyhow, the whole crew was there now. Sepha did her a solid with putting the sensor orb right in the centre of the table, so Pete and she got a 360-panorama of the room. Min had a trickle of the sensor feeds that Bro got, but he shared; the extra pair of eyes was welcome.

    ¡°You have a sweet digs Seph,¡± came Kel¡¯s voice as he floated like a mystic monk, legs crossed on the other end of the room near the door. ¡°Who got you the extra rift? Not that I mind.¡±

    They had jumped from Sepha¡¯s chambers in the Spire to her manor. The rift popped them out, right in the dining room.

    Min spoke through the speakerphone. ¡°That was me, Kel. I coordinated with Sepha, and Ril approved the request.¡±

    ¡°Right, I¡¯m still the hub then? Mkay, so I¡¯m not the only one doing shit and not telling anyone. Good to know we¡¯re all sinners here.¡± Smirking, he rotated lazily around.

    Ril was the one doing the twirling, mask off and sporting her gorgeous features. I¡¯m making backgrounds of some of those pics. She scrolled to Sepha; the elf had a dazed look, though it was not unwelcoming.

    Jon unabashedly praised himself, ¡°look at my lotus everyone. Do you know how hard it is to do in shoes? It¡¯s hard. And these Mudras?¡± He held up a hand to present a typical meditation sign. ¡°Frickin A-grade shit.¡±

    Min would cover for her girl, Shay. These crazies were bound to pull her off course. Popping her head into the next room, she saw Pete fast asleep at his desk, lightly snoring.

    Who could blame him, he kept weird hours even with the timezone shift. Min draped him with a blanket and returned to her terminal.

    Kel was still monologuing ¡°¡­so pizza or chicken Tikka Masala? I¡¯m feeling Buddhist all of a sudden, or Hindu.¡±

    Min switched to her chat with Seph alone.

    ¡°Ask him how he¡¯s flying? Don¡¯t worry; I¡¯ll take notes and explain it to you later.¡±

    Seph took control. ¡°Much as this is entertaining, would you care to elucidate the events of this eve? I have reports of the strangest occurrences all about my city. What have you done, and how have you done it, Jon?¡±

    ¡°Yesh Mashter,¡± Kay spoke through a mouth full of nuts. Despite her earlier enthusiasm, she appeared quite laid back now. Her legs¡ªboots and all¡ªwere up on the table.

    Kel¡¯s bad manners were rubbing off on her, but it did afford Min a chance to take a bunch of screencaps of those custom long-fall boots. Jon designed and built them, huh? That was kinda uncommon for the Divers she read about. They all had their quirks though, the popular and successful ones anyway.

    Kay could totally pull off the wayward-fairytale-princess-with-mecha-boots look; Min was super jello. ¡°Tell us the ¡®Fiziks¡¯ of your and our deeds,¡± the cute blonde asked.

    ¡°Eh, you¡¯re no fun.¡± Kel returned to the ground, unbound his feet and slipped out of his stunt vest. Dropping it in a lump on the table, he moved back. Him giving only a casual glance toward the getup, arms folded, it just started rising on its own. Loops and folds of nylon tumbled haphazardly as a few sets of metal tubes hoisted the whole thing up on thin air.

    Stares and gasps swept about the room. Fae and Nym were there too.

    Min couldn¡¯t contain herself either. ¡°Holy shit, that is so cool!¡± Inadvertently her gushing commentary was piped into Sepha¡¯s ears.

    The aristocratic elf flinched on the widescreen.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Uh, sorry bout that Shay. The black material is a harness. The metal cylinders are what you should ask about.¡±

    ¡°I see the silver bars are of some import?¡±

    ¡°Hmm? Sorry, I was ordering Naan. We¡¯re good with cheese Naan right?¡± Kel glanced about for assurance.

    Ril¡¯s eyes were glued unwaveringly to the man. Min knew that look, but she¡¯d never seen it displayed so... visibly. Oh dear, Kel, you have no hope of escape, my condolences.

    ¡°Two for me, Master. I seem to have quite the appetite after that run.¡±

    Ril finally tore her gaze away and offered explanations while Kel seemed distracted. ¡°As to your question Seph, the metal lugs contain his state of matter. His element, as you say.¡±

    ¡°There is a fire within those pipes? Are they not hot? How do the flames persist: wood, coal, or oil?¡±

    ¡°Excellent questions, Shay!¡±

    Kel finally finished ordering and gently lowered the harness to the table before speaking. ¡°Since I¡¯m backing your horse, Seph. I¡¯m gonna come clean. Ril? Are we good with this?¡±

    The Alpha closed her stunning eyes and nodded.

    ¡°I don¡¯t control fire. I venture that few, if any, Fire Mages really do. You see me entrain the flames by manipulating something that exists in extremely minute amounts within them. We call it plasma, the stuff of stars and your sun.¡±

    ¡°The sun is not fire?¡±

    ¡°Nope, it¡¯s far hotter. More energetic to be precise.¡±

    ¡°So a very hot fire is not a fire?¡±

    Min almost felt Shay¡¯s frustrations climb. She would help her queen with the details afterwards.

    ¡°He¡¯s speaking the truth, Shay. I¡¯ll explain later,¡± whispered Min.

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go with that. Super hot fire is not fire. It rhymes so it must be true.¡±

    Kel pulled out a white plastic rectangular item with a transparent portion of the case displaying a small cylindrical frosted glass cylinder.

    Min supplemented commentary, ¡°That¡¯s a fluorescent light. A lamp that makes illumination without fire; it has similar stuff inside when activated.¡±

    Kel flipped the switch, and the white glow outshone most of the nearby yellow lamplight.

    ¡°That is a brilliant hue, Jon Kelly, white as the daylight sun I venture. With no fire, as you claim, Elgelica would have great use of such artefacts. Fire is an ever-present threat to our forest as you might be aware. Are they expensive?¡±

    The light lazily floated free of his hand as Kel stroked his chin.

    ¡°Elgelica in neon!¡± he flourished an arc with both hands above his head. ¡°That would be a bitch-ass look!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not wrong,¡± admitted Min.

    ¡°Infrastructure is a problem, however. Discuss it with Min, electricity in Epsilon 30-10 is a big hump.¡±

    Min jumped to the loudspeaker ¡°Say no more, Kel.¡±

    ¡°Good, I won¡¯t. Let me confirm before I continue. Has no one tried flying or even floating stuff before, Seph?¡±

    ¡°Guiding water up trunks is a well-known technique of the Fire Fenders, it is hard to contain form, so wood and metal pipes are used. ¡®Tis a noble art passed from master to apprentice. Earth Mages must hold what they empower. As for Air Mages, gusts can be managed, but the races are not meant to fly, or the gods would have given us wings. I have seen some curiosities and tricks in fairs as a child, that is the extent.¡±

    Min sipped her coffee, idly tapping in search terms for solar lamps on a spare screen. Commercial street lamps would have to be made to order. The larger volumes for civic installation would also need formal negotiations, but sample products for Shay¡¯s evaluation could go a long way.

    Kel responded, ¡°So mental blocks and a lack of innovation, huh?¡±

    ¡°Master, people are taught the ways of their art by prior experts. The correct way and wisdom is passed down through the generations. It is sacred, to deviate is to disrespect.¡±

    ¡°Figures.¡± Kel pocketed his hands while and stared at the ground. ¡°Your situation is not unique. There is a myriad of reasons why progress is slowed or never made. If things work, why change?¡±

    The flashlight gradually floated across the table toward Sepha. Tumbling playfully and casting stark shadows upon the walls.

    Min split the 360-panorama on a whim, getting two wide 180-feeds on horizontal split-screen.

    The elven councilwoman stared up at the spectacle in contemplation.

    What are you thinking, Shay? I see determination and hope, with hints of pride and ambition. Min smiled as she pulled away from her mug; she had a good baseline for the elf¡¯s expressions by now.

    Min had scored higher on her non-verbal comm tests than Pete, and he was the overall top graduate in his year. How on earth he ended up with Kel was a mystery. The Diver came out of nowhere, a ¡®nothing special¡¯ nobody on the academy databases. Min was beginning to have her suspicions, however.

    Sepha spoke. ¡°And yet you have changed things, Kelly, and now we will.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Kel spoke with a low tone and looked quite sober at the thought ¡°Sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°Why? Kelly, I have seen more wonders in the last week than the last hundred years!¡±

    ¡°Because you will live long enough to look back and wonder if things could have been different. If it¡¯s any consolation, know that what is afoot is inexorable. We surf the wave; we do not make it.¡±

    ¡°I do not know what surfing is.¡±

    ¡°Ah, fuck.¡±

    The lamp clattered on the table unceremoniously.

    ¡°Right, dinner has arrived!¡± He pulled the Indian takeaway from his pack rift, and the trio went about serving everyone.

 10.6 Coming Out

    The milky drink was delightful; Keya had never tasted such a thing before. ¡°Master, I truly enjoy the ¡®Lassie¡¯ as you say, but why you call it a ¡®small girl¡¯ is beyond me. Just how much of your food will I have to try before I have tasted it all?¡±

    They were still supping with Shalen-sun in her dining hall. Keya had long since given up on the absurdity of it all. That a commoner like her could confer with nobility over a meal was a laughable thought only months ago. Resignedly, she now revelled in it; little point remained in resisting anymore. She was here, Master was with her, and that was all that mattered. Also, there was food, and she was hungry.

    He replied, ¡°you¡¯ll never taste it all. Give up. People make new things faster than anyone can consume them in a lifetime, even an elven one. Hell, Alphas experience new shit all the time, and they live forever. Right, Ril?¡±

    The deific Rilian was partaking in the food with equal abandon. ¡°What cheese did they use for this Naan? It¡¯s kinda sweet.¡± ¡®Partaking with abandon¡¯ indeed described the essence of everything she did. Presently, the manner in which she salaciously ate the melted succulence was flushing Keya¡¯s cheeks.

    ¡°See?¡± Master indicated with an upturned palm. ¡°Can¡¯t eat a naan without discovering something novel.¡±

    Upon dispensing their food, Shalen-sun was not to be outdone. Faelyn had retrieved some freshly baked bread, cured meat, and elven wine. He brought it himself slipping discreetly and briefly in and out of the room, no servants or other members were seen. The food was placed to just beyond the threshold, she supposed, and their eccentric band remained a tight-lipped secret to all beyond the walls.

    Upon Master¡¯s insistence, everyone ate, save for Nym who remained steely-eyed and on guard. A gracious portion was set aside for him later.

    Lee Min whispered into Keya¡¯s ear as she ate. ¡°Kel wants to share your Life Magic with Seph. He won¡¯t unless you give the ¡®okay¡¯. It¡¯s up to you.¡±

    She mulled over sentiments regarding the matter. Life Magic, my power¡­ gift or perversion? I still cannot tell. If revealing it was what Master believed best, then she would trust his judgement. If not to these allies then to who?

    She nodded her assent his way, and Master wound his craft.

    ¡°So, Seph, how many elements are there?¡±

    The silver-haired aristocrat narrowed her eyes at him. ¡°You tell me, Kelly.¡±

    ¡°Eh, you¡¯re no fun!¡± He huffed out a breath. ¡°Fine! There are more than the four elements you know, and probably more than even I know.¡±

    ¡°And we are to leisurely discuss this massive revelation while we eat?¡±

    ¡°What, you want exposition while doing nothing else. That¡¯s crazy talk.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes presuming sanity with you lot was a bridge too far, I suppose.¡±

    Rigorously nodding with a mouthful, he continued, ¡°Can everyone here sense auras?¡±

    ¡°You mean to sense another¡¯s sphere of magic? ¡®Tis not my immediate purview to reliably say. Faelyn? can it be done?¡±

    Failing to extend into life¡¯s domain was the extent of Keya¡¯s experience before meeting Master. Assessing the form, features, and focus of another¡¯s power would never have occurred to her. Very little occurred to her if she thought back on it now.

    She decided to relieve Perrel-sun¡¯s furrowed contemplation. ¡°Master, they are unlikely to have practised the solemn communions we do in our morning routines. Nor do I think mages spend much time practising with other elements not of their ilk. Am I mistaken?¡±

    Faelyn gave a small shake and shy tilt of ears in confirmation.

    ¡°Well, fuck,¡± Master gave an exasperated shrug. ¡°Min, you still there?¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± said the black orb.

    ¡°I¡¯ll share my file on magic training; please exchange notes at a later date. Seph, you and your crew are welcome to join our morning sessions for some... cultural exchange. I guess I¡¯ll just show the pretty lights for now.¡± He wiggled fingers in mock demonstration.

    ¡°Got it, Kel,¡± affirmed the feminine Min Ball. What has become of Lee, I wonder.

    Shalen feigned insult with a dismissive glance away. ¡°I apologise that we are too dull for a ¡®master¡¯ such as yourself, Kelly. Regardless, I am a minor Air Mage, Faelyn and Nym may be better served should they choose to accept.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say that! I¡¯m sure you guys are all amazing. Let me see.¡± And without a further word Master¡¯s aura swarmed. Keya sensed it wash across the room past her to the head of the table, inundating the noblewoman.

    Expectedly, the maiden let out a panicked yelp, swiftly covering her mouth in embarrassment.

    Jon was perhaps not aware of how pervasive his focus could be. It was light, to be sure, but he could quickly surround one with it in seconds. The resultant sensation was a little stifling.

    ¡°Master, you are scaring the poor Lady!¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Keya manoeuvred her Life aura as if a bubbled dome around Shalen-sun and pushed his back. Their pursuant aural scuffling produced short squeak from the fair lass. It was quite endearing.

    ¡°What by the gods are you doing to the Mistress!¡± dismayed Faelyn. He and Nym reflexively laid their hands on dagger and sword alike.

    Shalen-sun held up a swift palm to becalm them. ¡°I am quite fine. It was simply rather¡­ startling.¡±

    Ril had mostly been indulging intimately with the food, but now she spoke without looking up. ¡°I need a damn way to see and record this aura shit. The neural HUD isn¡¯t picking it up. My higher mind better be working on a patch, or I get to keep this experience all to myself.¡± Savouring the thought with eyes half-closed elicited a lingering moan from the Alpha.

    Keya tried to recall when she had seen the deity not in the throes of one pleasure or another. Keya failed.

    Master relented with an apologetic frown, ¡°Sorry bout that. Haven¡¯t figured out magical manners just yet.¡± A collective pause allowed all to retrieve their composure before he proceeded with the ad hoc class. ¡°Well, everyone seems to have auras matching loosely to the behaviour of their inclined ¡®element¡¯, or resonance. Ril controls solids¡ªEarth¡ªand she transmits through stuff she touches and stands on, a contact mage basically. This much, you know.

    ¡°I¡¯m the other end of the spectrum: gaseous, effusive, and extensive. My reach is also mostly unobstructed; enough ions in the air, I guess. Gonna need to do tests across vacuum and insulators to be sure, but I digress. I started out weak too, ¡®minor¡¯ if you will, so strength can be trained; my case proves it. Seph, my invitation extends doubly to you then. I¡¯ll make a wicked mage out of you yet.¡±

    Keya interceded to translate, ¡°¡®Wicked¡¯ is good Shalen-sun. He means to make a ¡®good¡¯ mage of you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Kay. That¡¯s why I pay you.¡±

    ¡°You pay me?¡±

    Shalen-sun interrupted their banter. ¡°Intriguing, but you failed to mention Luren-sun¡¯s power.¡±

    ¡°Did I?¡± Master smiled thinly, ¡°Kay, please give your real name.¡±

    She reluctantly halted Naan consumption to answer. ¡°My true name is Keya Ces. Ralfen Luren was my grandfather.¡±

    ¡°Ces? That name is familiar¡­¡± Shalen-sun tapped her chin, ¡°some witch burnings about twenty years back spring to mind. Why yes, I recall some superstitious hysteria gripped Elgelica during those days. As for myself, I remained cloistered in study for my¡­ soon to be station. Is there any truth to the rumour?¡±

    ¡°You tell me. Forgive me for asking, Seph, but if everyone can already do magic. What the hell makes witches any different?¡±

    ¡°You will have to ask the ignorant masses of that I¡¯m afraid. Superstition grows in the absence of knowledge I have learned.¡±

    Faelyn offered, ¡°Witches are fabled to place curses.¡±

    Master gave a rare genuine sigh. ¡°What a fucken pity.¡± Shaking his head, he pressed on, ¡°Not directly involved, I take it?¡±

    Keya would not have detected the feigned casualness of his query had she not scrutinised the man¡¯s lying over the last months. He tests even now. Were her mouth not full of delectable bread and cheese, she might have given his ploy away. A glass of nectared wine ensured her expression was pragmatically obscured while they answered. One hand of his also innocently fell below the table. The sheathed small ¡®firearm¡¯ is belted there. An oddly-shaped leather pouch was oft worn by him, even in the Bunker. To all the world it was a curiously shaped but unremarkable purse. Certainly, no sword or weapon of any import could be housed within, unless you knew otherwise. And the only three in the realm who do are in this room.

    Shalen proffered her answer ostensibly oblivious to the stakes at hand.¡± Elgelica is a massive city, even if not by your standards, and my family is but one of the smaller ever-shifting powers. Events in one quarter might swell and dissipate without most residents being ever the wiser. Were we Shalen¡¯s not extremely prideful in our record-keeping, I might not have known even this little, much less being involved. I shall check our records of the time, of course, but I hold out little hope. Would you know of every debacle amongst a million souls from twenty years prior?¡±

    Min whispered once more, ¡°Yeah, near as I can confirm, she¡¯s speaking the truth, guys. Those elf ears give away far too many tells. I think I¡¯ll write a research paper on it!¡±

    Jon seemed much allayed, his hand returning above the table as Keya gulped and breathed equal parts satisfaction and relief. There are unplumbed depths to their every stratagem.

    ¡°You don¡¯t see any merit to these witchcraft claims then?¡±

    Shalen-sun gave a derisive snort, putting the matter to rest.

    After some thoughtful nods, he addressed Keya once more. ¡°Kay, mind standing there?¡±

    She clamoured in her bulbous boots to the head of the table, and he approached her side. The Naan was sadly finished. She stared forlornly at greasy remnants on her fingers.

    ¡°Alright, my stalwart savant!¡±

    She perked up.

    ¡°Find and focus your aura around you.¡±

    She did just so. Her aura¡ªoften unconsciously roaming¡ªpulled in; she felt it coalesce on her body imbuing herself from head toe. Refreshing sensations flooded her limbs as if breathing in the first scents of spring, surrounded by luscious pine forest¡ªexhilarating every time.

    Master¡¯s aura enveloped her like a cosy blanket, gently sensing the bounds of her form. He nodded.¡± Now instead of drawing MP all at once, like with your jumps, gradually tug up.¡±

    Eyes shut, she ¡®saw¡¯ her body imbued with a steady glow. The colour, if it could be called that, was verdant forest green. She let her intention rise, and the effect was immediately noticeable. Levity and lightness permeated her, after which the pressure of the floor disappeared. Moments later, she heard gasps throughout the room.

    Kay opened her eyes to see herself gently rising, the elaborately carved archways of the wooden roofing inching ever closer. Tapering the intention back to almost nothing, she stopped. The rise required power but to remain aloft required practically no mana at all. She sensed only a trickle of that illimitable lake passing through her. So long as she was imbued, and with the same asserted intent, thus she remained.

    I fly. It was the very best feeling of her life, something too good; I deserve less. Inclining towards Master, he stared back, unabashed pride reflected in his eyes.

    ¡°Kay is our Life Mage.¡±

    A torrent of emotions flooded through her for which she was utterly unprepared. Her whole life, she had kept a shielded heart. Unbeknownst to her, cracks had formed and spread from those very first days, until¡ªwith one final chip¡ªthe bulwark crumbled. Being the pariah of that inconsequential village, she was often alone and isolated by the other humans in town. Grandpa was her mentor and parent, not her friend. Those she remained bereft of until she forgot ever yearning for one. The paltry relations of Gillian and his group were laughable in retrospect. I was always on my own, always ¡®that elf child¡¯.

    Lifting a weightless hand to her cheeks; she felt them warmed and wet. Drifting bodily down, but remaining afloat, she embraced the man. He said ¡®our¡¯.

 10.7 Bugged Out

    Gods damned flying! These wretches were crazed. Sepha could not, however, deny the thrill of seeing the girl, revealed to be Keya of Ces, floating like the fairies of myth. Even the girl¡¯s hair wafted weightless behind her as if underwater.

    Sepha knew little of the Ces household, it was true, but she smelt a dead goblin in the family¡¯s abrupt execution. More so than superstitious witch burnings already entailed.

    Even for her icy deliberation, the scene evoked the fantastical sentiments of her child within.

    Min voiced that child. ¡°Aww! Aren¡¯t they just so cute!¡±

    Sepha¡¯s hired higher-world help was extremely apposite, if not over eager. Min could talk endlessly over the practical mundanities of clothing or hygiene, and then offhandedly ascend to lofty intricacies surrounding Outworld Magic in the blink of an eye.

    Whether Sepha was the manipulator or manipulated was a grey matter at this point. Initially, she thought Kelly made a critical blunder by assigning an aide with such loose lips.

    Sepha had honeyed her tongue and prattled with the naive child, as girls often do, late into the evenings. Min would eventually spill all Outworlder secrets, and then Sepha would have the leverage and power to demand what she wanted.

    The girl happily obliged as though it were her job. Quill and parchment in hand, Sepha attempted to scribe as pages and images were fed to her magical visor. Oh, how folly a notion that had been!

    Betimes she could not see the room she sat in, so filled with knowledge it was. Movement, sound, and symbols, mostly in Common, were cascaded before her. Quill and parchment were useless! Like counting stars by hand.

    What need was there of subterfuge if even earnest study might fail the brightest of minds. Her century of tutelage was like so many children¡¯s books in comparison.

    This ¡®Science¡¯ of theirs was inscrutable. There was no ¡®mysticism¡¯ or ¡®trick¡¯, only guilelessly accumulated knowledge describing the way things were and how they worked. And that was but a small portion. Philosophy, art and everything in between, there were thousands upon thousands, nay millions upon millions of pages of it.

    Sepha was quickly overcome by the torrent of information flooding before her. She could stand an hour at the most per evening before her mind and eyes tired.

    Worse still, she conceded a childhood moniker in trade, and now she could hardly take it back.

    The blunder was entirely hers. Kelly never meant any machination, otherwise doing nothing would have sufficed. No, it was far more pitiful than that. He was trying to help them.

    No methods could convince an outsider of how futile resistance would be. No words could do justice the weapons they used. Moving pictures played through her mind of entire cities, not turned to ashes, but air! Bodies burned so quickly their shadows remained. What if that was Elgelica? She lost many hours of sleep at the thought.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Forthwith the man sat there apologizing at the monumental progress he wrought in just a few weeks of magic study. Like he knew the black void she faced some nights, the terror of the unknown staring back at her. Maybe he did.

    So, the jester stood before them with that infuriatingly impartial smile, hand outstretched. ¡®Come, I will make you a powerful mage. Do you wish to illuminate your city in ways never before seen? Speak to Min; let us see what can be done. What knowledge do you crave? I will give it all, and an eager tutor to aid you. I will ask favours but never follow them up. Why do I do all this, you ask? Because I expect greatness from you, and nothing less.¡¯

    The voice moulded into her late father¡¯s before she could deny the parallels. If she knew no better, she would say Kelly cared for them. The human cherishing elves, planting trees that would outlive him. He hid nothing because the arrogant would gaze upon the truth and think it a bluff.

    Her dining room was quiet save for the heartfelt sobs of the floating elf; arms gripped about her Master.

    ¡°Kelly, I¡­ we¡­¡± What could she say really? He spoke in actions, and so should she. ¡°We will support you. For the sake of Elgelica, our children and their children, I will stand with you if you will stand with me. This, I, Sepha Shalen of the Elgelican Council, pledge upon the gods.¡±

    The insignificant man looked to her while still in the embrace of his apprentice, eyes alight with mirthful mischief. ¡°Sheit elf, that¡¯s all you had to say!¡±

    The beatific avatar responded next. Sepha avoided staring too long, or even directly for that matter; it could shatter her composure. Graciously Rilian van Ster-sena conferred with Kelly instead, ¡°Do you practice those lines in front of the mirror?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing else to do while you spend so damn long in the shower! Buy me a bigger pump if you¡¯re gonna abuse the water pressure that much!¡±

    Min giggled in her ear. ¡°Oh Shay, thank you very much for the sentiment, but it was unnecessary. We would help you anyway. Your world is like a dream come true to us. People will pay a lot of money just to visit, and they¡¯ll pay even more to stay. What did you think? We were invading?¡±

    Sepha murmured under her breath. ¡°The thought did cross my mind, yes.¡±

    ¡°Can I reply on loudspeaker? It¡¯s better they understand your concerns.¡±

    ¡°Min would like to speak.¡±

    That was all the permission she needed. ¡°Shay my girl, you are more precious than the land you stand on. We¡¯d have heard rumours of other worlds with elves and the like. If you¡¯re not unique, you¡¯re very rare. Your city is a brittle flower; many would gladly risk their lives to protect. And the magic of your world we have only recreated in fictive games and stories. Yours is an authentic experience. No invaders are coming; there are tourists, lots and lots of tourists. Do you think Ril came down out of the goodness of her heart? No, my dear Shay, even the gods want to play here.¡±

    The avatar shrugged in guilty agreement.

    It was farcical, but it made a kind of deranged sense that she had come to expect from these Outworlders. Despite the absurdity, it did allay her fears a fair bit. She decided to voice her next deliberation.

    ¡°So, if there is no threat from the Outworlders, what exactly is your part in all this, Kelly?¡±

    Pausing with a finger to his mouth, still wearing a hovering elf around his neck, he said, ¡°Normally, I would explain that, but we¡¯re out of curry.¡± A squint of feigned resignation framed his features. ¡°Bye!¡± All contrition disappeared.

    With the rift abruptly activated to his otherworldly lair, the enigmatic human strolled on through. Ces-sun, clinging to him, was dragged in tow and she found ground as they passed, pulling away as her weight returned.

    ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t, Kelly!¡± Sepha shouted after the man. ¡°I demand clear answers!¡±

    The avatar laughed mellifluously ¡°How did you put it? Ah yes, ¡®why don¡¯t you tell us¡¯.¡± And she skipped off soon after.

    ¡°You are asking the right questions Shay, but the answers must be yours as well,¡± said the black sphere.

    ¡°Not another word, Min, not another word!¡±

 11.1 Sex Bomb

    It was time. Rilian could bear it no longer. She found him in the living room, browsing designs and notes. That was a mistake; he should¡¯ve been hunkered in his quarters with the door locked.

    ¡°Hey Ril, sup.¡± He made a double-take before realising the direness of the situation. ¡°Oh, shit! Oh, fuck!¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes!¡±

    ¡°No, Kay save me!¡±

    He kicked off the sofa, but Ril managed to grapple his arms and pinion him back to the upholstery before he fled. Her hyper optimised muscles made release nigh impossible, even for a frontier boy such as him.

    ¡°She¡¯s fellating over bows at the range or floating in the HAS, far from earshot,¡± Rilian spoke breathily into his ear.

    Jon stared back wide-eyed with terror, letting out a timorous whimper.

    ¡°I have a problem, Kel.¡± She pressed close to him, drinking in his scent. ¡°It demands a lot of ¡®attention¡¯. I could readjust the hormones, but you insist we play the hands we¡¯re dealt, and I need extra hands.¡±

    ¡°Oh shit, oh shit, oh kak, nee fok!¡±

    ¡°An inventory your purchase history shows your condoms have all expired. Regardless, I prefer an unfiltered experience. Rest assured, I am sterile and safe.¡± The poor Gamma appeared to have elevated breathing. All the while, his loins betrayed him against her pressed thigh. ¡°I will take it slow, but it will certainly get faster.¡±

    The boy regulated his breath to attempt speaking. ¡°I-I¡¯ve conceived of the practical implications. It¡¯s just... you know, I¡¯m standing on this bridge ready to bungee, and I feel a sudden desperate need to double-check the rope.¡±

    ¡°Do not worry; we will use my ropes.¡±

    ¡°Ah, Fuck!¡± There was a wildness in his eyes that she either wanted to tame or savage. Which? She wasn¡¯t sure yet.

    ¡°You are the only one I can come with-, I mean ¡®to¡¯. You are the only one I can come to with this issue. Can you assist?¡±

    The man nervously paused before mutely nodding, as if consenting to a final battle charge.

    In a small but definitive voice, she said, ¡°Good. Your safe word is ''Zebra.''¡± Urgently, she pulled them to a stand, never releasing her grip, and dragged him to her room. He faltered a somewhat: the mind said ¡®go¡¯, but the body said ¡®no¡¯. Or the other way round. Either way, they were both coming; she would make sure of it.

    "W-What''s your safe word?"

    "Don''t need one."

    Vocally relenting Kel said. ¡°If I do this, no more moaning in the shower, okay?!¡±

    ¡°In the shower? Sure. I hope your rooms have better soundproofing.¡±

    His sluggish feet ceased as they reached the door, but Rilian refused to loosen her grip. Last-minute nerves could send the man bolting, and she had too much riding on riding him.

    Inside her quarters, she swung the man around, standing between him and the exit as the Alpha advanced.

    He pulled back, ¡°Just give me a sec.¡± The uncertainty was gone now, replaced by a degree of committed acceptance.

    Ril relented, releasing his arm to give him some reprieve. All escapes remained covered while she warily kicked off her trainers and socks, always keeping an eye on her mark. He would have to go through her, precisely where she ultimately wanted him.

    Instead, he rolled and jostled his neck and shoulders as if limbering up for some sport. The shoes and shirt came off, and with eyes closed, he centred himself.

    What a fascinating display; she quirked a smile. ¡°What are you doing, Diver?¡± She surveyed his bare skin, ¡®in the flesh¡¯ as it were: the marks, flaws, and scars.

    After a deep breath, they found each other¡¯s eyes, and Jon saw Rilian. Not a flitting glance of shy infatuation or a sleazy ogle desiring possessive copulation, no, a piercing gaze as if he stared down the aeons of her countless lives head-on. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m ready.¡±

    No, you¡¯re not. Her T-shirt was summarily discarded as she drew close to him. Baring her violet laced brazier, she grasped his upper arms, skin on skin.

    ¡°What do you see, Gamma?¡± With a finger, she traced a scar about his shoulder.

    ¡°C-cup, you got the proportions and placement just right. They hang on you like you don¡¯t need a bra.¡±

    ¡°And I don¡¯t. Here.¡± Their breath mingled as she guided his hand behind and to the clasp. Deftly disengaged, the diaphanous fabric fell to the floor.

    The man¡¯s looks were imperfect, handsome in a way; well dressed and groomed, he might draw some eyes. Alphas did not care much for these things. What he was born with was not as enticing as what he made of it.

    Kel noticed, ¡°Your breath has a deep lingering scent of mint.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s in the saliva,¡± She stuck a finger in her mouth and wet his lips with it before letting him suck. Placing her head next to his she whispered and bit his ear. ¡°a cosmetic, but effective, alteration.¡± The shiver was immediate; Rilian grinned with relish at the satisfactory response.

    Switching he pushed her to the wall, lifting her and kissing deeply. Tongues mingled in undulating harmonies, and they drank each other in. Her fingers traced his jaw, rough over the stubble, to his slight cleft chin¡ªan incomplete fusing of the jaw bone.

    There isn¡¯t a hair out of place on me¡ªwhat little of those there are. I¡¯m ¡®perfect¡¯, right? For most of his kind, this thing she wore was coveted treasure, and she obliged. She wasn¡¯t there to judge after all; she was there to experience.

    His knee pressed up into her moist sex, eliciting a moan. Exploring her waist and chest a right hand skimmed across her breast and found an erect nipple. It dallied there gently caressing and massaging the bud along with the handful of flesh below, before alternating to the left side.

    They reluctantly broke away for breath.

    She panted, resting on his forehead and clinging possessively to his shoulders, her clothed legs wrapped firmly around his waist.

    Finally, she had release. Her desire being paraded before her for days on end had been tormenting.

    ¡°Why? Why are you so perfect?¡±

    Blinking from her reverie, she simpered. Rilian was unprepared for his compliments to make her feel so bashful. A girl, her age should be beyond such things. But the way he earnestly enquired with those pensive eyes, set off something vulnerable within her.

    Climbing off him and with a firm push, she forced the boy back to sit on her bed. Putting on a show, she salaciously unbuttoned her pants, shimmying them down her sculpted thighs revealing matching violet boy-cut panties. Trousers kicked to the side; she paraded in front of him.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°What is this worth Kel?¡± Sensually she rubbed her hands over her sculpted curves and breasts, dallying on erect nipples and the tingles they sent coursing across her nerves. Each touch let slip a throaty groan. Showcasing the supple pearlescent flesh of every flawless inch; she posed and swayed with practised allure.

    His attention was undeniably captivated.

    She switched to a casual lean and a flippant wave of herself. ¡°It cost me nothing, and I printed it in a day. I am blank; nothing is earned. There is no story here, no art.¡±

    ¡°Look at you.¡± Stalking toward the bed, she crept up on his knees, stopping at his hips to unlatch the belt buckle. That undone she tugged the pesky pants off in one fell swoop.

    He leaned back, and she leaned in.

    ¡°Born with a million mistakes.¡± She inspected his face and neck. ¡°A trained jawline and bite, orthodontics I¡¯d venture. Months to years of creeping pain to pull the teeth in place.¡± With a thumb brushing across his lips, she clinically tugged the jaw open, and he acquiesced. ¡°Ah, there it is. A metal retainer to secure the bottom canines and incisors.¡±

    Lifting away to appraise the rest of him, her gaze fell to his stomach.

    ¡°And these abdominals?¡± Her hand traced the varied washboard ridges. ¡°Asymmetrically formed from birth and yet cherished with thousands of hours gruelling torture. Why? To grow and temper them that they might serve you.¡±

    She drew his mouth to hers and tasted his authenticity again as she expertly folded her body into his.

    The man¡¯s erect member straining against fabric was impossible to ignore.

    She ripped off his underwear, literally.

    The hard cock stood proudly for her despite his momentary shyness, and Rilian admired the various imperfections there too.

    Jon spoke up to explain. ¡°Circumcised. There were medical reasons for it, and I was old enough to understand why. It was painful and took a few months to heal fully.¡±

    Good, he was getting it.

    ¡°Help me out of these,¡± Rilian commanded.

    His hands gingerly found her lean and aesthetically toned hips. Subdermal fat content was a fine-tuned variable on her frame, placed with exacting proportions and volumes to round out every desired contour. With thumbs hooked around the edges of her lingerie, he trailed them off. For all the reverence he showed, he may have been revealing some priceless art piece beneath drapes.

    ¡°Wow, that is¡­ a well-constructed piece of wetware.¡± Her completely denuded and hairless sex was on full display to him.

    ¡°You have absolutely no idea how right you are, but you will.¡± Striding up close while he sat, her moist cunt was right before his face; lifting a leg over his shoulder gave him unobstructed vantage. ¡°Please, do right by me Kel. The wait has been excruciating.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Mam.¡± Without further deliberation, his hands approached her clitoral nub, and he massaged it from both sides cushioned by the hood, languidly working his way inward. Finally, as his thumbs just barely reached it, she had her first climax. The resulting growl was unhinged. God, she had waited so long for that. The sides of her legs readily wetted with lubricating juices.

    ¡°That was way too soon.¡±

    ¡°Mmm... m-more nerves Kel, a lot more.¡± She bit her lip. ¡°Why have two orgasms when you can have ten, twenty, one hundred.¡±

    ¡°Holy shit! That¡¯s¡ª¡± He stopped mid-sentence as the scent hit him. He sniffed, moving closer¡ªdeeper. He inhaled once more.

    Ahh, she had chosen right, his expression said it all. ¡°Raspberry. You smell like fucking raspberry.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but how do I taste? That¡¯s the real question, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    With a quick breath, the Diver dove.

    Ril¡¯s respiration caught as he worked his tongue through her folds and the attention on her clitoris did not let up.

    She threw her head back, savouring every millisecond pleasure. ¡°Yes! That¡¯s it!¡± She rocked with his rhythm for a minute, one hand firmly holding a scruff of his hair and the other fondling a breast, she climaxed a second time.

    Coming up for air, he smacked his lips and commented. ¡°Raspberry flavour, huh? Makes eating you out a lot easier. Lack of hair is also less abrasive.¡±

    ¡°Indeed it will, my Diver!¡± She unhitched her leg and drew Jon to the bed. Lying back on her pillow, he followed like a compliant lamb on a leash. With her legs splayed and lifted to his sides, his hardened penis was already positioned and tentatively nudging her labia apart.

    Kel paused, looking down with a clinical eye. ¡°Hmm, you¡¯re not really as stimulated as I¡¯d like just yet.¡±

    Aww! He¡¯s just too sweet! Two climaxes in and he was still thinking of her. Genuinely amused laughter escaped her lips.

    ¡°Have at it then my boy! You¡¯ll not see me wanting for less attention.¡± No, I want all of it.

    Hands and arms explored up and down her silken, smooth legs. Not a wrinkle or callous could be seen anywhere, the body was barely weeks old, after all. Such things were to be earned, not faked. The tingle of his arm hair and slightly rough fingertips teased her.

    When he found her sex again, he massaged it edgewise with one hand as his thumb stimulated her glistening and swollen clitoris. The other hand diagnostically explored further.

    There was no sacred g-spot in her, anywhere and everywhere would work, but he tested anyway. Each angle and gesture extracted pleasure-filled gasps and mewls from her lips.

    She tried to talk just to hold the orgasms back. ¡°Why... do you think... I MADE,¡± that was almost over the brink, ¡°this body.¡± With her back arched into the mattress, her diaphragm flexed and clenched at every blissful pang.

    He started sucking on her. ¡°Oh, God, Jesus Christ! Just like that, Kel!¡± An ecstasy filled spasm and grunt later left more juices flowing from her.

    The diligent man lapped them up, licking around his mouth as he resurfaced.

    ¡°You made this for yourself?¡±

    ¡°God no, Kel.¡± She cradled his authentic face the lines of a million emotions etched into it. Even now, she saw the gears of thought tick away behind those plain blue irises. ¡°I can hardly reach down to drink my own cunt now, can I?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t?¡± Feigned surprise was writ large on his face.

    ¡°No!¡± she giggled, ¡°stop it, you silly man! Stop it, or I¡¯ll cum again.¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re really twisting my arm.¡±

    Grabbing his face, she stole another kiss. This one had a coveted intensity to it, with the aftertaste of her own liquids on his lips. She savoured that too.

    ¡°Here¡­¡± Guiding his head to a nipple, she made him suckle. ¡°Yeees,¡± was her airy reply. ¡°Drink me. I lactate when properly aroused, call it¡­ an intra-workout for those lon¡ª¡°, she whined, ¡°¡ªger sessions.¡±

    He switched to the other, now swollen, nipple.

    ¡°Goooood boy!¡± She felt the pent up pressure subside under his attentive suckling. He would have to keep coming back as they worked, but he, of all people, understood consistent routine. All the while, her clitoris had not gone forgotten, and a few quiet orgasms had peaked in the interim. She involuntarily ground her hips and swollen lips onto him, wetting his shaft in the process.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re a parfait.¡±

    ¡°A-a what?¡± The description caught her off guard.

    ¡°Mint, vanilla cream, and raspberries,¡± he pointed as he went:¡± a parfait.¡±

    She laughed so hard that the roiling and rubbing made her cum again. Ril held on to him, mouth agape as the convulsions subsided. Belaboured panting was the extent of her speech for heightened moments as she held his eyes.

    Eventually regaining enough control, she said, ¡°You¡¯re having sex with a goddess¡¯s body, built to pleasure you, and your first comparative is a lowly parfait!¡±

    ¡°To be fair, though, you¡¯re far more calorie friendly. I wouldn¡¯t be into eating parfaits every day. But you? I could manage.¡±

    That produced more bouts of cackling and orgasmic spasms.

    ¡°Well, thank you so much, Jonathan Kelly! Please consider the menu a la carte, but if you don¡¯t drink the milk, I¡¯ll have to.¡±

    ¡°Well, we definitely can¡¯t have that! Actually, no, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s kinda kinky too.¡±

    ¡°Stop it, Kel! Just stop! Stop fucking about, and fuck me already. I¡¯ve lost count, okay! Put your cock in me, and put it in, right the fuck now!¡±

    ¡°Yes, mam!¡± His stiff phallus had been waiting and tantalising her opening all through his cajolery, so he found entry almost immediately and thrust in cleanly.

    Rilian¡¯s engineered hymen abruptly broke, and she screeched; I always forget about the bloody thing. To be fair, the ratio of virginity to sex, even with multiple lives, was still heavily lopsided.

    His momentum slowed at her response, but he bottomed out anyway, and she came in cascades.

    Legs held tight around him so he would not move, and her voice became epileptic. There was a sincere concern on the boy¡¯s face as she gagged and sputtered below him.

    ¡°Ril! Stay with me, what the fuck just happened, did I just¡­ oh, new body. Bliksem, you should ¡®da told me to go easy!¡±

    Shaking her head was the best she could manage. Cuming that hard and with this unique mix of pleasure, pain, frustration, and yearning hadn¡¯t happened in at least over a century. Low-tech was extraordinary! The denial, the waiting, the mistakes, the impotence, and finally him just there with her, in her. Worth every nanosecond. Another climax detonated up and down her spine, purely at the thought of it.

    ¡°Whoa! Are all those pulsations muscles? What the fuck is inside you?¡±

    ¡°You¡­ stay¡­ right where you are Gamma Boy,¡± she panted, ¡°we aren¡¯t nearly done yet.¡±

    And he dutifully did, slowly undulating at first then extending his range and vigour. Inexorably he made Rilian climb to ever-higher bouts of climax for a good fifteen minutes.

    The Tantric man elicited orgasms from her hips and lips every third to fifth stroke, also drinking from her periodically as he went.

    After a stellar first act, he unfortunately slowed; ¡°We¡¯ll work on your endurance.¡±

    ¡°Will we now?¡±

    ¡°You certainly have the right foundations. Hard and unyielding under extended load, very rigid even now.¡±

    ¡°Why thank you, I¡¯ll be here all night.¡±

    ¡°You damn right, you will.¡± The Gamma man had managed, an apoplectically euphoric debut. ¡°My turn!¡±

 11.2 Slaying the Beast

    Jon considered himself an accomplished yogi, but damn! Doing God¡¯s work was hard on the knees, the goddess¡¯s work in this case. Peering into those abyssal eyes¡ªthose pink and blue nebulae, crazed with ecstasy¡ªMoby Dick references would no longer suffice. This was a full-on Kracken.

    The hallowed commandment of ¡®never sticking your dick in crazy¡¯ had been transgressed, but this crazy he could categorically not allow to roam free. Innocent lives were at stake. So, sinner such as he was, Jon had limbered up to the task.

    After attending to Ril¡¯s insatiable needs, as best he could, turnabout was fair play. They flipped, and she remained adroitly on him as they did so. They were adamantly fused at the hip, mind-numbingly gorgeous legs wrapped firmly around him.

    When on top, she pushed up with her hands on his chest and gave him a spectacular view: a smile that could melt celluloid on a face and body that could launch a million ships.

    The opalescent sheen of her immaculate skin was completely hairless everywhere save for her head. And there, the colours danced and jived with her rocking. The peaks and curves from her tight and toned waist to her pert hemispherical breasts defied astronomical classification.

    ¡°Ahhhhh.¡± She exhaled a long and guttural sigh, as she rose up and ground down on him, arching her head and back pushing out her lower ribs. He ran his hands gingerly over the bumps and ridges, coming to rest on her curvaceous midsection and hips. She was undoubtedly a masterwork.

    ¡°Thaat¡¯s it, go deeeep in me. Estimating your size was a particular vexation of mine.¡± Returning her gaze, she began slight and slow gyrations on him. ¡°Couldn¡¯t be too cavernous or too tight. The ¡®glove¡¯ must fit the ¡®hand¡¯, no?¡±

    Sound logic, if ever he heard it. Lactic build-up had started trickling from her nipples again, glistening down her sumptuous breasts. Getting to work, he sat up to imbibe the goddess¡¯s nectar. Gently suckling on a tit, warm vanilla milk filled his mouth with one or two pulls before alternating to the other breast. She did not produce overwhelming amounts; he was a grown man, after all. It was just enough to keep the taste and smell of her ever-present while she rutted gleefully on him.

    Moans and groans were his feedback metric.

    ¡°Hmmm, definitely the right size.¡± Forcibly pushing him back to the bed, she explained, ¡°You see adapted vaginal muscles handle far more precisely what a tight pussy could not. We have to leave space for contraction¡­¡± An all-encompassing tightness gripped his shaft, making him gasp. ¡°¡­and relaxation.¡± She released him and began undulating contractions up and down on his penis. Her body might be an exquisite blank canvass, but that technique was surely earned to some degree.

    Supped and satiated Jon let Ril have her way with him. That intra-workout was something he would lean heavily on. As it was, reevaluating his supplement stack would be necessary¡ªessential amino acids before bed, perhaps. Increased pumps worked in more ways than just muscles.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Jonathan had this time to think, because while Ril might be a hypersensitive cunt and designed so, he was an insensitive prick, literally.

    Where choice had increased her pleasure immeasurably, events beyond his control had formed him. His cock was an admirable old thing, but after circumcision, he was unmistakably less sensitive, and it could take a fair beating.

    But there was more. For many, sex was an esoteric thing which people preferred to keep a mystery. For him, it was merely another area of study; the intricacies of gendered attraction and in particular the mapping of his mind was of immeasurable value. Men and sex were generally given a bad wrap, but the key for many of them was that libido and attraction were essentially decoupled. So while she rode him inexorably to climax, he contemplated his existential predicament.

    They say staring into the void would make it stare back, but it was only there that Jon truly found his humanity. On the precipice between knowledge and ignorance, humanity stood.

    He imagined Stone Age hunters¡¯ eyes peering up at the stars having no framework to understand the chasm, but wondering in awe nonetheless. And there he lay now the abyss gyrating on his hips in ever so sensual motions.

    Rilian van Ster, ¡®Rilian from the stars¡¯, and she was a stellar blackness that could swallow him up. How far had she come; how far had she been? What was he in comparison to that? A sparkling scintilla trapped in her gravitational pull.

    Perhaps it was all meaningless and hopeless. Jon drank her divine visage in, a maddening beauty what made minds recoil in preservation. That was the sane response, the safe, the known. Instead, he stepped forth into the darkness. Even for him, he would not last much longer, so he sat up, bowing his legs outward, knees bracing on the soft and supple skin of her lower legs as she knelt on him.

    ¡°What are you¡­?¡± He slid right up into her, her face became his universe, those blazing eyes being the all-consuming light. His hand found the pulse on her neck.

    Not giving out, up, or in, he simply gave. A gift Rilian could never buy or earn, nor could she refuse, or even compensate him for it. A worthless thing: gratitude.

    ¡°No, no, no!¡± she uttered in unhinged rasps. ¡°You scream, you cry, or do anything else but this!¡±

    ¡°Shhhhhh.¡± His thumb traced her lips, silencing her quips.

    Below, her body churned on him and he on her. It conversed a different, primal language.

    In the barest of whispers, he breathed with her. ¡°There you are.¡± Fluttering eyelids were the first signs of her involuntary orgasm, followed by her vaginal walls spasming on him.

    He tipped over the edge almost immediately. As two interlocked animals, eyes transfixed, they rode through the mind-blowing pleasure, and he ejaculated while rooted squarely within her.

    Aftershocks and clipped murmurs reverberated for a minute afterwards, and Jon spread the biggest triumphant smile he could manage through the panting.

    A strange thing happened with Ril: terrified eyes flickered once more, and she fainted right there still pegged on him. Jon caught her as her body went limp and carefully guided her head to the pillow. Her pulse was slowing but steady, and her chest, wet with milk, was breathing regularly.

    ¡°Welcome back Rilian of the Stars. I wonder where you¡¯ve been.¡± It was another whisper as he lay next to her statuesque impassive expression.

    Jon drained and licked her dry before turning in for the night. No sense in sleeping over split milk, after all.

 11.3 Breakfast, Normal Breakfast

    Morningwood sucked. Oh yeah, to be rigid and ready in the wee hours of the day might sound sexy, but it honestly just held up the pipes.

    Ril lay curled up next to him; she could be confused for a marble statue with the sheets draped and drawn around her just so.

    The only indication to the contrary was her slight shifting and adjustment as Jon go out of bed. He pecked her lightly on the forehead, and she purred, smiling with eyes closed.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± He whispered, because, for all her glamorous looks, she had gone easy on him with the biochemistry of that particular meat suit. Most Alphas could secrete powerfully euphoric and psychotropic drugs from their gene-crafted bodies.

    The word ¡®promiscuity¡¯ did not even begin to cover what Alphas could manage. Many a person breathed their last breaths in or on an Alpha. It was by choice of course.

    On the Main Root, in places where euthanasia was legal, amenable Alphas could be found. Death by Alpha Overdose, AOD, was rated the number one way to go throughout the multiverse, and that was a verified fact coming from extremely disappointed survivors.

    True to her word, Rilian went with a low-tech model. The sex could almost be considered human; there was no downgrading the mind though.

    Jon felt very lucky to be alive ambling on weak legs to the toilet; cardio could be skipped on most days from here on. I¡¯m all about efficiency, he grimaced, even if it costs some sanity in trade.

    Throwing on some comfortable Bunker clothes in his quarters, Jon headed for breakfast.

    Kay was to be found in the kitchen masticating half-awake on oatmeal porridge. Extra portions were already prepared in the pot.

    Jon wordlessly served up his own buttered and honeyed helping, with dried fruit for extra tang.

    ¡°Master, I would like to request a room change.¡±

    ¡°That bad, huh?¡±

    ¡°I see there are open rooms down the corridor nearer to the rift area. Might I also ask that you find ways of dampening the sound somehow, anyhow? Everything carries rather well through this grey concrete.¡±

    ¡°I will make the necessary arrangements recruit.¡±

    ¡°I think the ¡®recruit¡¯, in this case, is you, Master.¡±

    He soberly accepted the veracity of it while scooping his first spoonful.

    After Kay considered him more seriously, she said, ¡°In any event, thank you for your ¡®service¡¯. I have enquired with Evy on Alphas since she arrived, and I presently understand some of the rather uncouth complications her presence brings to the fore. You were undoubtedly the best person equipped for the task.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t ever let Ril hear you say that or she¡¯ll show you otherwise.¡±

    Even in the simulated pale morning light, Kay¡¯s rosy blush was unmistakable. There was no way she could out-embarrass him; the padawan was but a babe in these matters.

    ¡°Anyhow, one dragon slain. Let¡¯s see what our zombie slayer got up to in the night.¡± They moved to the living room to access the RF tracking and audio feeds.

    Ril came in shortly after, entirely unsuitably dressed. She plopped down on the sofa next to Jon.

    ¡°Whose shirt is that?¡± He asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s yours.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t own any white shirts.¡±

    ¡°I know, checked your purchase history, remember. Bought you some.¡± She tucked her bare legs under her buttocks and rested her head on his shoulder with a satisfied sigh.

    ¡°Let me get this straight. You bought a bunch of white shirts in my size just so you could wear them after sex?¡±

    ¡°Face it Kel; you were never gonna say ¡®no¡¯.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I said ¡®yes¡¯ either.¡±

    ¡°We both did repeatedly, trust me, I can replay the neural recordings.¡±

    Kay gazed academically at their banter. ¡°Why is a white shirt so significant?¡±

    ¡°No! Don¡¯t take the bait, Kay!¡± But it was too late. Ril swiftly grabbed his glass of water and tossed it on her chest.

    ¡°Oops.¡± Proudly, she displayed her pert nipples, before snuggling up to Jon. ¡°How embarrassing, please hide me Kel.¡± The water proceeded to rapidly soak him too, and he felt everything underneath, or more precisely nothing. That said, the gentle rhythm of her heaving ribs was reassuring in some animalistic way.

    ¡°Oh. Oh, dear,¡± was all the comment Kay could produce.

    He sent an admonishing look her way, while Ril nuzzled his pec.

    Kay asked, ¡°Is this¡­? Will this be a regular fixture from now on?¡±

    ¡°Not to worry recruit, I¡¯ll have her house trained within a month or two. On the upside, she¡¯ll be using the shower normally from now on. You see? Progress!¡±

    ¡°If you say so, Master.¡± Kay was a terrible liar.

    ¡°Correction: we will be using the shower sometimes normally from now on. Also, we need a bigger bed. That single was fine to corner you from escaping, but we¡¯re over that hump.¡±

    Kay choked on her porridge.

    Ril continued to luxuriate herself into him. Her scents and breakfast were starting to mix.

    ¡°I¡­ have a king size.¡± He slummed it enough world-side. More real-estate was a practical but extremely rewarding amenity.

    Ril unstuck herself and punched his shoulder. ¡°Why the fuck didn¡¯t you say so sooner!¡±

    He had kept that secret under lock and key. ¡°It was extremely dangerous intel to leak to the enemy.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°Well, I guess that solves that.¡± She got up, soaked garment, singular, completely forgotten and sauntered to the kitchen to grab breakfast. ¡°I want a key before the end of the day, or I forge my own. More good news, Kel! You have another spare room.¡±

    ¡°Umm, can you get me another glass of water while you¡¯re there. I seem to have¡­ used mine.¡±

    ¡°Do I look like your wife?¡±

    Kay was becoming a study in the shades of pink.

    ¡°I hate to say it, but you are barefoot and in the kitchen.¡±

    Ril¡¯s smiling contemplation was far more terrifying than any rebuttal. ¡°I guess I am.¡±

    He desperately wanted precise clarification as to which point she assented.

    However, such knowledge came at a high price, so he kept his trap shut. It chewed on oatmeal, harkening back to simpler days when breakfast tasted better than pussy.

    A few minutes later, they were, at last, being productive. Lee had stayed up the previous night, likely sharing shifts with Min to watch the tracker feed. He saw the new mail with attached highlights. It read:

    <blockquote>

    ¡®Didn¡¯t see much point in waking ya, and top-side Rilian was unusually attentive. Said you could use the rest.¡¯

    </blockquote>

    ¡°¡®Rest¡¯, huh?¡± He eyed Ril accusingly.

    ¡°I¡¯m as ignorant as you, Kel. The bitch often keeps me in the dark; I received no new messages. I¡¯ll tell her ¡®thanks¡¯ though.¡± She blazed an unapologetic smile.

    Checking the mail time stamp read 2:41 am; they were both knocked out long before that anyway. Jon sighed and read on. Scrubbed highlights were attached below, and he clicked on them.

    Firstly, they watched a time-lapse of how the tracker wormed its way about Elgelica on the TV screen.

    There were sound clips involving a lot of sloshing water. The storm drains were well utilized that night by both Bowboy and the rain.

    The map was a simple aerial composite photo taken whenever clouds decided to fuck off: this had not been often. On top of that were the obscuring trees. Nothing short of the HAS¡¯s radar could really get much definition, but the desaturated and line sharpened map exposed landmarks and landscape well enough.

    Ril¡¯s ass-attached tracker washed off in the inclement weather, tracing its way to the river. Leaving only Zom-finger¡¯s boot tag as their last hope.

    ¡°You see! On the ass doesn¡¯t work no matter how hard you spank it!¡±

    ¡°Perhaps I need more practice.¡± An honest acceptance of failure painted her dazzling eyes and furrowed brow.

    ¡°Kel, would you be willing to help?¡± There was a soft nip on his earlobe.

    ¡°Down kitty!¡± He playfully slapped the top of her thigh. ¡°The humans are working.¡±

    ¡°I believe only one person remains working here, Master, and she is not human.¡±

    Jon sighed, praying once more to St. Neil Patric Harris for guidance. In response, the audio graciously produced something else besides sloshing and squishing.

    Creaking doors with the tap and scrape of boots on a hard floor echoed through an interior. Crackles and whips of torch fire and lamps could be heard as the feet became still. When speaking began, it was in Elven, so the TV threw up subtitles. Jon¡¯s rift eyes did not function in the Bunker.

    ¡°Honorable Caina-sena, I have returned with news¡­¡± reported Bowboy.

    Jon interrupted, ¡°Evy, Pause.¡± and playback stopped. He navigated to the bunker chat rooms via the TV. The controls were an old-school wireless keyboard and mouse, lain haphazardly on the central coffee table. It lacked the aforementioned beverage, and that needed to be remedied as well. ¡°Lee, are you up? Min?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get Pete up,¡± said the TV, blinking with Min¡¯s icon in a corner. ¡°You¡¯ve been overworking him, Kel!¡±

    ¡°Or maybe he¡¯s just lazier, knowing he can rely on you.¡±

    Min huffed.

    ¡°Please get Seph on the line too.¡±

    ¡°Kk, I¡¯ll dial Shay now-now.¡± Presumably, she first busied herself with waking his arsehole operator.

    ¡°Barista duty, Janken!¡± Jon stuck up a fist, and the sacrosanct ritual of Rock, Paper, Scissors: Japanese OG Version took place. All knew the rules and the results were always beyond question¡ªas it should be.

    ¡°Saisho gu, janken po!¡± Jon won, it was an elf and Alpha showdown.

    ¡°Aiko desho!¡± He approved of Kay¡¯s pronunciation. Clearly, after-hours practise had occurred.

    ¡°Awesome, Ril scamper off to the kitchen and make us the black juice of life.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you juice,¡± Ril sulked.

    ¡°Black, you hear! No cream, and NO, I don¡¯t care where it comes from!¡±

    ¡°Where would she get milk? You do not usually stock it in our cold box.¡±

    ¡°Ril, don¡¯t you dare answer that! Kay, don¡¯t ask! All conversation regarding milk is officially banned as of now.¡±

    Ril obeyed, but she gave a look that said, ¡®you¡¯re paying dearly for that¡¯. Alphas were very creative when it came to owed favours, and he swallowed a shudder.

    Sufficiently caffeinated and the relevant parties all assembled, he restarted the dialogue.

    Ril leaned on an armrest and threw her satin legs over his lap, snuggling her coffee mug as it began. A self-satisfied smile spread across her face; apparently, he was claimed as her territory as of last night.

    A glance at Kay revealed many conflicting emotions, none looked good. War was brewing on the homefront; it was likely it would be beyond his influence to avert. Better to cast his mind to smaller things, like saving the world.

    With all relevant parties listening in, he restarted the playback.

    ¡°Honorable Caina-sena, I have returned with news. The petty thief Light-Finger is now most assuredly dead.¡±

    ¡°And yet I do not feel assured. Why is that do you think, Taegen?¡±

    Sepha gasped on her end, but she did not interrupt.

    The voice had an eloquent and elderly charm to it. It was in Elven, so maybe it sounded shit to elf ears for all he knew.

    ¡°It is as you say, my liege, there were¡­ complications.¡± Undeniable reticence and fear wavered in Bowboy¡¯s tenor.

    The superior¡¯s voice was calm and level in reply, ¡°Complications? No, a painted thief is a complication. That is why I ordered his death. That he lived was not complicated; it was a massive blunder: your blunder. That you were seen fleeing the scene was not complicated either, that too was a mishap. ¡°

    Such an articulate and impassive voice was an excellent trait for a villain to have. The dude was genuinely talented, thought Jon.

    Caina continued. ¡°Then you were chased and found twice more. This too was not complicated; it was a mistake: yours.¡±

    Even the microphone was picking up the assassin¡¯s erratic breathing at that point.

    ¡°I can describe the pursuers, they-¡±

    ¡°EVERYONE CAN, YOU IMBECILE!¡±

    Great escalation. Jon gave a light clap on his palm without pausing the audio.

    ¡°Worse, they can describe YOU and know your crime! There are NO complications; the solution is SIMPLE!¡± Switching to a starkly dispassionate tone, he said,¡± Guards, it appears a known murderer has snuck into my manor. Kill him.¡±

    ¡°Wait! Master, no, please! I can¡ª¡°

    Subsequent comments were cut short by the sound of a soft target riddled by numerous whistling sharp things. The scuffle terminated with a meaty cleave.

    Jon¡¯s imagination produced countless combinations. He took a gulp of caffeine juice during the deathly muted lull.

    Sometime later, Caina spoke again. ¡°Notify the council on the morrow that the murderer was caught skirting my property and killed in the altercation. Thereafter deliver the body to the catacombs.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Caina-sena!¡± said another dude.

    There was noise close by as the legend of Bowboy was carted off and into memory.

    ¡°Done in by a zombie even after aiming for the head, what a twist! Lee, Min? Tell us if you find anything else. This should be enough to go on.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha,¡± they echoed.

    ¡°The man is named Elnaril Caina,¡± said Seph. ¡°He is one of the older and highly respected council members. Men are rare in Elgelican leadership; usually, war, fighting, or ill health reap them before their wives. Council leader Caina has outlived two matriarchs already. His haleness is the source of much gossip and rumour.¡± She paused in deliberation, ¡°I am sorry Kelly, if he is the elf up in the boughs, then I can do nothing. I am very new to the council, and this ¡®awe-de-oh¡¯ record could never pass for evidence of his crimes. If you sought sway within the elite of Elgelica, I am reluctant to admit you have backed the wrong Wood Elf.¡±

    ¡°You chose us Seph, that makes you exactly the right Wood Elf.¡± And besides, of all the fuckups I¡¯ve made, I bet Seph the Sly Silver Princess ain¡¯t one of them.

    ¡°Be that as it may, I am powerless. Moving against Elnaril Caina is beyond me.¡±

    ¡°Hmm... but if you could, what would you need?¡±

 12.1 Elf in the Eves

    About week later¡ªone of their seven-day weeks¡ªthe Keya and her two companions walked once again upon the breathtaking streets of Elgelica; an uncharacteristically sunny morning greeted their sun-starved eyes.

    Master sported a new closely cropped hair cut instigated by Ril. A centre band from his forehead to neck remained slightly longer. It made him look quite boorish in Keya¡¯s eyes. Supposedly, that was the goal.

    Her hair, on the other hand, had been growing far too quickly of late. She could swear it was an inch longer each week. In days prior, she had taken to cinching the copious mop in multiple bands as the curls almost reached her legs.

    Her comrades had argued like husband and wife over what to do with it. Keya flippantly chose something short from the pictures just to shut them up.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you went with something more practical, Kay, instead of Ril¡¯s complex braid bullshit.¡±

    Kay¡¯s blond unruly locks were trimmed in line with the bottom of her chin. Truthfully she just wanted it short enough so she needn¡¯t bother with all the hassle. Washing each day had inadvertently made the whole process, including drying, a chore. How spoilt am I, that the luxury of bathing in warm water with lusciously scented soaps, has become tiresome.

    Jon asked, ¡°what¡¯s that hairstyle called?¡±

    ¡°The description on the tablet read ¡®short shag¡¯ I believe.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Figures, Ril gave you the one thing she¡¯d never give me.¡±

    ¡°I seem to recall the one who takes the longest to get off is you Kel. I can practically cum on command.¡±

    ¡°Master and Ril please tell me, what words has your culture not associated with fornication as of yet.¡±

    ¡°A wise question, young Padawan!¡±

    Ril said, ¡°your hair looks cute Kay, you chose well. Don¡¯t listen to this cunt.¡± She wrestled Master by the shoulders and ruffed his short fuzzy scalp. He smiled at the attention despite her words.

    ¡°So our Bones doubles as a beautician, ne? What a coincidence!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true; I¡¯m very interested in beautiful bones, one in particular.¡± She nestled her helmeted head on his shoulder.

    How is it that I, the youngest, am the only adult here. ¡°Both of you shut up. Let us merely enjoy this wondrous morning.¡± That was quite enough tawdry banter. The fresh air coupled with a cool breeze meandering through the mighty trunks made the simple act of walking nothing short of sublime.

    Her feelings, by contrast, were inclement at best. A week had passed. Save for renewing their lodgings at The Cask, the only other sojourn made, was to the land they were deeded: a stealthy trip made under cover of darkness.

    While it was tempting to carp on Master¡¯s overcaution, the truth was, she revelled in it. Their first months were a simpler time, Keya had taken his commitment to train and edify her for granted. ¡®Twas an honest mistake for an elf to make. Fifty years of study and training were an insignificant investment for her kind; the norm was a hundred.

    But he was human, and his world, dynamic. Just as he rapidly changed Keya, so too did he rapidly change. Time with him was a limited luxury. The orc in the room was, of course, Rilian. That the two had¡­ escalated intimacies was an occurrence not unforeseen. But it gnawed at Keya more than it should have. Why was that?

    Master is a respec¡ª no, that is perhaps too strong a word, an honourable¡­ no. No, that also is not entirely accurate. A good man? Hmmm.

    He was an evanescent human man. ¡®Twas not lustful intimacy that she yearned for. However, even if she wanted to, she could never bear his children. She was over one hundred years away from becoming fecund, a child in elven years. And yet, Jonathan Kelly would perhaps manage another thirty functional years before descending into decrepitude. Another sixty years of his presence to more or less a degree, and then he was gone, dust on the wind. This was why Elves disregarded humans; attachment could only end in tragedy.

    It was unfair, though the one who felt cheated was her. A rising ferocity began to grow in her chest as they practised and shared knowledge day in and out. The three of them now preparing, and Master doing his arcane ¡®Theory Crafting¡¯ as he termed it. The seconds and minutes were precious, each and every one of them.

    She seared his gestures and quirks into her mind, watching diligently. One of Jon¡¯s ¡®minor¡¯ gifts was a personal tablet equipped with a video capture eye, and she utilised it religiously to record him. These gleamed memories, she meticulously labelled and archived, that she might preserve his memory.

    They were also invaluable for reviews. An annotated journal accompanied each recording, handwritten on the tablet¡¯s infinite pages as well as copied in a paper journal. ¡®Eelektro-knicks¡¯ were amazing, but hardcopy was more natural to trust. Both tablet and book fast became her most prized possessions. The bows were lovely, very lovely, she¡¯d never say no to more, but her greatest fear was the fading of him in time. The prospect frustrated and angered her, made her feel cold and hot all at once. It aroused a passion within her like none ever before. Such energy, she channelled into her magic, learning, and fighting.

    Clenching her fist as she strode, she heard the glove creak under strain. She was ready. Every night she had flown and floated in the HAS so that now it was second nature. Master and even Ril had joined. For the goddess to fly, she had flat metal plates clasped to her harness, instead of the bulbous steel phylacteries Master wore.

    Their control was tertiary and so could never manage the finesse her direct magic could. However, versatility in other ways made up for it.

    In the mornings was mediation, Shalen-sun and her men sometimes joined, after which was study and planning. Afternoons were for combat training and exercise, while evenings were more diverse. Keya adored every ounce of it, but preparation had wound her up tight.

    Finally, they could apply their scheme. Anticipation made her jitter as they advanced through the noble quarter of Elgelica. Caina¡¯s manor stood up ahead.

    Armoured, but unarmed, they approached the guards stationed at the open portcullis. Ril ensured her helm was fully in place, parading her fantastical beauty was a torment saved mostly for those she knew.

    The guard interrogated Keya in Elven. ¡°Caina-sena is receiving no guests. State your names and your business.¡±

    ¡°We three are the ones who chased the late Taegen-sun some seven days prior. If the Patriarch be willing, we would like to speak with him of the circumstances of Taegen¡¯s demise. I am Kay Luren; this is Jon Kelly and Rilian van Ster.¡±

    ¡°Understood. Word will be sent to our lord. You are to wait here, and no further until permitted otherwise.¡± They milled about for some thirty minutes saying little while excruciatingly slow messengers hurried up to the main compound, and back down to them. Keya had grown far too accustomed to Outworld communication.

    ¡°You are to proceed. Follow these men. Do NOT deviate.¡±

    A group of four well-armed guards led them on.

    The manor was quite a pompous affair and looked more like a fortress with second and third inner walls as they meandered up a small hill. The gigantic trees of Elgelica formed the pillars of the walls in a loose square. The outer walls incorporated four trees a side, the second: only corners, and the inner stone alone. Sheer and proud, the castle manor stood alone at the summit, cast in beams of light piercing through the distant foliage.

    They did not dally moving from checkpoint to checkpoint until at last, they entered the stone castle and a majestic reception hall. Shalen-sun¡¯s abode was but a plebeian hovel in comparison. Though what she lacked in majesty, she made up for in homeliness. Comparatively, Ciana¡¯s estate was cold and uninviting, mostly unadorned with ancient grey lichen ridden stonework, and a vaunted but lifeless and musty roof.

    ¡°Everyone¡¯s belts okay?¡± Master confirmed as they ventured in. It was not a belt precisely, but it was a silver cord slung on their waists with but one hook to hold it aloft and a unique buckle. An actual belt held her leather-like leggings in place underneath.

    Their escort of four moved to stations at the entrance, while the trio was gestured further forward.

    An older elf presumably Elnaril Caina sat on an ornate wooden throne upon an elevated dais at the end of the long hall. His hair characteristically elven grey, although it had the look of frazzled old age rather than the youth of Sepha¡¯s. The elven man had rough features, still elegant and angular like most elves, but marred by scaring and a repeatedly broken nose. She had seen such faces before on men who often fought with fists¡ªa brawler in his younger years mayhaps.

    Why were brawling elves a frequent fixture of late? Were they not supposed to be a civil race? Perhaps it was the company she kept, definitely that, Keya was blameless. Absently, she cracked her knuckles.

    ¡°Welcome Luren-sun and her aides!¡± Announced the elf, it was the very same voice from the recording. Finally meeting the shadow that harried them, stilled her nerves.

    ¡°You are trying people to find. I sought to give news of the murderer¡¯s demise directly, but to no avail.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    There were some letters and messengers Jon might have ignored.

    Keya replied. ¡°Forgive us Caina-Sena, urgent matters needed our attention in the interim.¡±

    ¡°After you chased the man so avidly and remarkably, that seems rather baffling,¡± said Caina.

    ¡°Humour an old elf if you will. How did your troupe manage the feats you did? Even our best mages are at a loss.¡± A diplomatic smile plastered his face. ¡°Strange artefacts, leaping and flying. ¡®Tis the talk of the town!¡±

    Master took up answering in Common. ¡°It was a group effort. Everyone contributed in one or other irreplaceable way.¡±

    He effortlessly switched tongues, ¡°The human named Jon speaks.¡± He halted the six nearby guards who instigated approach when Master spoke. ¡°Forgive my men; they are unaccustomed to a human addressing me unbidden. So, you are the leader of this merry band then?¡±

    ¡°Nah, we¡¯re all equals here. Of varied circumstance, but equal standing.¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡± he barked. ¡°A human thinking he the equal of an elf.¡± Caina¡¯s tenor was that of addressing a child. ¡°How old are you, man?¡±

    ¡°Like thirty-three or thirty-two. What¡¯s the date?¡±

    Have I missed his birthday! Keya¡¯s heart skipped a beat.

    Caina¡¯s raucous laughter resounded through the hall.

    ¡°Ah, forgive me, human,¡± he was wiping away tears. ¡°I shall be 934 this year, even in my ninth century I am older than you. The poetry of it is quite amusing.¡±

    ¡°Only 934!¡± Ril said no more, but the atmosphere decidedly chilled.

    ¡°And who might you be, masked one? You did not enter Elgelica with them. Only two lodged at the inn. Luren and the man.¡±

    Jon gave the Alpha an impassive sidelong glance.

    ¡°The mask will remain for the moment,¡± said her mellifluous voice. ¡°True immortals do not compare cock sizes. Boasting one¡¯s age displays nothing but vacuous ego. What they have done with their time is the true measure of pride,¡± and a little quieter, ¡°or shame.¡± Then in rebuttal, ¡°FYI, I¡¯m sure Jon¡¯s cock beats yours, though.¡±

    Master made a desperate cutting gesture on his neck. The meaning clear, Ril had yet again tread upon manure.

    ¡°That was unnecessary,¡± Caina replied dispassionately and lifted a gnarled hand. ¡°Guards, have her flogged and thrown from the city.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± Master broke for a last-minute attempt at placation. Caina appeared to have expected as much and held the guards back again with the minimal finger waves only potentates could manage. That is, if Master¡¯s movies were anything to go by.

    ¡°Speak infantile being. If I do not like what you say, I will cut out your tongue myself.¡±

    ¡°A man of action, I can respect that. Okay, I will speak plain. I¡¯m guessing after the bar fight you were tipped off to a strange duo in town. We know you sent Light-Finger to scout our room, being subsequently painted by us you had him killed, or tried to. Taegen, an Airbowmen in your employ, got it right the second time, but we chased him through the city. Give any soldier enough trauma and crazy intel, and he¡¯ll come running back to his commanding officer for orders. I mean, I don¡¯t know if he was a soldier, but even hired help is gonna come tell ya what went down.¡±

    Master pocketed his hands and shuffled back and forth as he spoke. ¡°Anyway he came back here, and you killed him for once again being a link back to you, just like Zom-Finger¡ªLight-Finger, same dude.¡±

    Caina replied. ¡°A story of a madman with no proof.¡± But the lord made no move to halt Master speaking.

    ¡°You killed him right about here, or here. Your floors are pretty stained; blacklight may illuminate which. Comparative blood sample on the floor, and we would have you dead to rights in the higher worlds. Anyway, we know you had him killed here because we heard the conversation and you ordering his death. A nice villainous monologue about ¡®complication¡¯.¡±

    Caina¡¯s expression shifted at the mention of the word.

    Jon blithely continued. ¡°Just some future advice, debriefing is very useful for extracting valuable information. Taegen could have leaked more about us if you let him live longer and interviewed him. You know, like civil people.¡±

    ¡°You still have no proof, Jon Kelly.¡± He spat out the name.

    ¡°But what I don¡¯t get is why you came after us in the first place. An extreme amount of secrecy, all for what? An elf named Luren and her human companion? Those first few days you knew nothing more than everyone else did, but your reaction to leaks was... stark.¡± Master returned his full attention to the Patriarch. ¡°So I guess what I¡¯m asking is, what tipped you off that a Ces might be back in town after your purges.¡±

    Caina laughed heartily for a good while at Master¡¯s final pronouncement. ¡°Your presumption knows no bounds, little human! I will have to screen my servants and guards once more; we appear to have a spy.¡±

    ¡°Was the woman spying on Sepha yours as well? I¡¯m just wondering really.¡±

    Caina narrowed his eyes and smiled.

    Keya stepped in; she needed to know. ¡°If you¡¯ll not entertain a human, then tell me. My true name is Keya Ces. Are you the one responsible for the death of my family?¡±

    Caina¡¯s eyes widened with malicious delight at her proclamation.

    Kay had been so young, details and faces were hard to remember. She felt no actual agony for the tragedy, not at all like the death of Grandpa. His passing gouged at her heart even now. The truth of it was simply the completion of some ancient rite; that the ghosts of the past be laid to rest.

    ¡°My, my, a lone survivor of the Ces family yet lives. Why I wonder did I not just invite you for lunch. You have come here and shared all your secrets without so much as a blade to your throats.¡±

    ¡°You see? Civility, man!¡± Master commented.

    ¡°Be silent filth!¡± Caina commanded.

    ¡°I suppose it is harmless to let you know. You three shall not be leaving here alive, after all. Yes, I spread fear and distrust of the Ces family amongst the simpletons. It is easy to provide a frenzied crowd with the tools needed to execute ¡®witches¡¯ and their ilk.¡±

    Keya asked, ¡°Why?¡±

    The lord gave an honest and innocent shrug. ¡°I have been here since the Elgelican trees were but saplings, I have guided this land for almost a millennium. Then come the Ces family with their new magics and healing. Helping the weak and curing the ill. Do you know how many poisonings they averted! And with each act, I saw my influence slip from me. Me! I built this place! None would be here save for ME.¡± Caina spat the words out with unbridled vitriol, before catching his breath and composure once more. ¡°Oh, I must thank you three fools. To share my frustrations for once is quite cathartic.¡±

    Master stuck up his hand enthusiastically, waving it in the air.

    ¡°What! What is your idiot human doing now?¡±

    ¡°I believe he wishes to speak.¡± Master never did divine the breeze, or perhaps he did too well.

    ¡°Go ahead, dead man.¡± Caina waved dismissively.

    ¡°Yeah, monologues are great like that. Trust me, I know. So um, ja, just a question, if you kill us, what about Sepha? I¡¯m just saying, you know, we might have uh, made some inroads.¡±

    ¡°That little girl and any other council members will fall into line after your demise. That or I fear most unfortunate accidents should befall them soon. Sepha¡¯s mother had her uses for a time; it would be tragic if she too were so obstinate.¡±

    ¡°Huh. That¡¯s a relief.¡± Master let out one of his idiosyncratic sighs along with a few satisfied nods. ¡°So, I¡¯m sure you wanna know how we do it.¡±

    ¡°Do what?¡± Asked Caina.

    ¡°Move around your town unseen, pop in one place and out another. Can I retrieve something from my pack?¡± They were some ten yards from the lord.

    ¡°Try anything stupid, and my archers will make sure it is your last.¡± The four bowmen, with what appeared to be Earthbows strung arrows.

    Very slowly he removed the circular folded sheet, one side silver and the other white. It was the Rift Ring Keya had first seen so long ago. It was affixed to a black mount allowing it to stand freely on flat ground. Set upright on the floor, he unfurled the sheet the white fabric facing Caina. It was a captivating scene for a first-time viewer no doubt, but it remained unactivated for the moment.

    ¡°Change is an inevitable thing Mr Caina. Estimates gauge your world to be around the 15th to 16th century, but there is no gunpowder, at least four whole continents you¡¯ve yet to find, and most people still think the world is flat. I gotta wonder just how many inventors and discoverers you¡¯ve killed over the years to keep the status quo.¡±

    Jon swept his arms about the hall, taking in its venerable majesty. ¡°Look at this place! How many hands built this keep? Who laid the wooden roofing, carved your chair, smithed the guards¡¯ armour and weapons? We are composites of the world we build; we are not singular heroes who stand unsupported.¡±

    The black base of the Rift mount glowed, and the screen¡¯s interior changed.

    Sepha Shalen stood at its maw; a handful of other well-dressed elves sat at a table behind her. ¡°So, Council Leader Elnarin Caina, we have seen and heard all that has occurred here. Are there any other crimes you wish to admit to?¡±

    Veins on the old man¡¯s neck bulged, and his knuckles whitened on the throne. Fluid as a snake he pulled a spear from a nearby stand and launched it with blinding speed at Sepha. The silver queen¡¯s eyes widened, but the spear harmlessly pierced through the fabric, leaving her image untarnished save for the hole. The screen wobbled mockingly as the weapon made a splintered thud in the entryway door. The more outside guards opened the door and rushed in, but did not approach.

    ¡°A trick!¡± said Caina.

    ¡°Yeah, well she is somewhere hearing and seeing you.¡± He pointed to the back mounting stand.¡± Short-throw projector: great for mobile entertainment.¡±

    Sepha commanded attention once again, ¡°Council Member Caina you are to yield to my agents and submit yourself to trial before the council. Among many admitted crimes, you will be principally tried for treason. All other guards and servants are to disarm and leave this room and keep immediately.¡± The pronouncement was clear, but none moved.

    ¡°Hah! Would your trusted aides leave your side Sepha? I think not. I refuse your summons girl, whatever trick this is, I deny all that was said.¡±

    ¡°The witness of three powerful allies and a lobbed spear say otherwise. You have made an attempt on my life directly. This is your final warning, yield.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± The reply was definitive and quiet. Then returning to the trio, his course resigned. ¡°Any final words before I set my guards upon you. I will spill your blood here, and then I will march on to the Spire with my private garrison to restore order. It appears I have negligently let the weeds grow.¡± Caina idly retrieved leathers and gloved his hands as he spoke. ¡°A series of accidents will occur this grave day. Perhaps a fire or two as well. Foreign spies were plotting against the proud and noble people of Elgelica.¡±

    Jon, appearing completely unperturbed at their dire situation, said, ¡°Final words, awesome! Ril, take it away.¡±

    The Alpha stepped forward and made her helmet retract. The unleashing of her radiance expectedly shocked all who caught her visage. She turned about immobilising the guards behind. Gasps from Sepha¡¯s council chamber could also be heard. ¡°I just have one more question,¡± she sang. ¡°What is the speed of an unladen swallow?¡±

    That was the signal, and they dropped their silver belt cords from their hips to the ground. As the loops settled on the floor, encircling their feet, the Rifts activated. Each cable sprung into a perfect circle on activation, flipping from stone tile to hole. Keya lifted her hands above her head as she fell through. The other side was horizontally oriented in the Rift Room, and Keya felt her stomach lurch as falling switched to sliding on the polished floor.

    She held back breakfast from the rapid flip of realities. Glancing askance she ascertained Jon and Ril¡¯s simultaneous escapes were equally successful. In fact, they seemed to be competing over who had the most modish transition pose.

    ¡°Find them!¡± Shouted Caina out of sight.

    The rifts shut and Keya retrieved her visor. Ril had surreptitiously deployed her Cam Flies during their exchange. Unbeknownst to the Patriarch, he and his retinue were still watched.

 12.2 Silver Spectre

    With Kelly¡¯s magically transferred vision gone from the scene, Sepha¡¯s view switched to an eye that floated to the side in Caina¡¯s hall, somehow. This is what she and her council allies saw on a similar round sheet in her meeting chambers. Of course, she could see via her visor if need be, but for the sake of the others, and theatre, this was the chosen display. She also had tertiary sights given to her alone. Images played upon floating phantasmal screens before her that only she could see, curated expertly by Min.

    To be actively on the inside of one of Kelly¡¯s schemes was alarming. The crazed genius manipulated the laws of reality like playthings. Only these playthings were deadly. On second thought, he had already used paint and a game of chase to lethal effect.

    Correction: not even toys and games are safe in the man¡¯s hands.

    As of this moment, they were her hands too. She brought forward the simple box held behind her back. White with a lacquered sheen, it was light, and in the centre was a glass-like cover over a red button. The cover was open, and the switch had been pressed earlier when Caina refused to yield. The deed was done, and only 30 seconds remained on the countdown. Numbers inexorably spun by in the upper centre of her sight.

    Sepha¡¯s false spectre yet remained in Caina¡¯s hall, so she entertained him a little more.

    ¡°You cannot begin to imagine what approaches, Elnaril.¡±

    ¡°You! You two-faced entitled little wench! You side with humans,¡± he spat the word, ¡°over your kind! I will break all your limbs inch wise until you beg for death. You... treasonous whore!¡± Caina approached the screen while his guards busied themselves, searching the hall pointlessly. She saw him and them from a higher vantage. More guards were mustering by the second. The lord sneered, ¡°Look me in the eyes, you coward!¡±

    It was regrettably something she could not do. The image she saw and the visage he entertained were not aligned. It was quite disorienting; she suppressed the queasy sensations as best she could. To Caina it must seem she cast her gaze down in shame.

    ¡°You have killed untold elves in your insidious reign, and yet I am the treasonous one. I see.¡±

    ¡®Twas then that the first stones punched through the roof. More and then more, starting at the entrance, they cascaded brutally upon the hall. Tearing gouges out of the ceiling and going on to pummel guards or the ground alike. Caina registered the impending destruction and retreated to nearby comrades as it came.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Her audience too screamed and gasped at the display. The onrush of falling stone and dust engulfed the hall and Sepha could see Caina no more.

    The destruction paused, and another view was shown. It flitted far beyond and above the castle, like a bird perched on a branch, or on the wing. The roof was heavily perforated, and sections were falling in, pulverized dust rising in the aftermath.

    Mercilessly, a second strafing volley began, the stones were swift grey specks that pelted the building from above. This time they started at the throne and rained back toward the entrance.

    It was efficient, cold, and vicious. With the single push of a button and not a single soldier, I have rained down death. This day her immaculate hands were bloodied.

    ¡°Min, might I review the release of the stones?¡±

    ¡°Okay, Shay.¡±

    A moving picture showed a musty room, some store area of Kelly¡¯s mysterious lair or lairs. How many places or spaces he commanded was unknown to her. Their existence was an open secret; Sepha caught glimpses of otherworldly destinations beyond the rings, as the beings flitted in and out of her presence. In time, I might see more, far more than any elf before me.

    In the storage room, upon round disks, lay the old mill house bricks from Kay¡¯s deeded land. A hundred or so a piece piled on each of eight portals. Sequentially the rifts opened, and the blocks fell into a sunny world below, my world.

    Returning to the view of the outer castle, the image peered up, and the bulbous profile of Kelly¡¯s flying ship could be made out some four thousand yards above.

    ¡°I merely dropped some stones. Is killing supposed to be this easy?¡± She spoke to no one in particular, but Min answered.

    ¡°Shay my precious silver princess, he meant you harm and would not back down. You gave fair warning.¡±

    ¡®Twas the triviality and distance from the act that struck her. Here she stood in her meeting chamber, lightly clothed in a white gown with comfortable Outworld undergarments, and satin slippers. In this garb, she had orchestrated death.

    ¡°He had no idea.¡±

    ¡°He would not have believed you even if you told him. We minimize casualties this way and avoid a civil war.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel like winning.¡±

    ¡°No, killing should never feel like that. That¡¯s how I know you¡¯re a good person, Shay. Good guys don¡¯t revel in their honour and heroism, they doubt and wonder at their morality. When you are certain, that¡¯s when you need to be most vigilant. Warn me when you¡¯re certain, Shay, I¡¯ll be there to doubt for you. In exchange, please do the same for me and all Outworlders. None of us are perfect, even the Alphas.¡±

    How was it that Sepha felt consoled by this young human girl. She could not deny her heart, however.

    ¡°¡®Tis a pledge then Min. We doubt for each other should we fail ourselves.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a promise, Shay.¡±

 12.3 Doc Oc

    ¡°Honestly Kel,¡± Ril said, ¡°I think that reference was weak. Sure, the HAS is the swallow, and the stones are the coconuts, but it¡¯s still a bit of a stretch.¡±

    ¡°Duh, that¡¯s why I got you to say it.¡±

    ¡°You absolute bastard!¡± She punched his shoulder, this time with her combat gloved hand.

    ¡°Bliksem, again?! Both of you girls need to stop this habit of hitting me. You realise I am, physically, the weakest World-side.¡± He massaged and rubbed the spot.

    Rilian and Kay paused for the briefest of moments and, in solidarity, gave him the most uncompelled blank stares they could manage.

    Kel nervously glanced between the two of them realising his folly. Grasping desperately for another topic he managed. ¡°Don¡¯t dally team, get your gear on. We move in five!¡±

    Ah yes! Her new toys were preemptively gathered in the Rift Room; she felt the excitement rising. First were the guns holstered on the small of her back, two glorious .50 Desert Eagles in eye-catching stainless steel.

    ¡°You sure your wrists can handle those?¡± Kel posed his concern as she belted them on.

    ¡°My wrists handle you just fine.¡± She winked, and then more seriously, ¡°Honestly, I¡¯d have taken Glocks. Yes, I am strong enough regardless, but handling is a practical consideration. That said, my magic just soaks into these bad boys like your bedsheets.¡±

    ¡°You can fokken say that again. My room permanently smells like vanilla raspberry now. Thanks for that, shit ain¡¯t never washing out.¡± Kel was rechecking his AK-103. Everyone was already armoured since morning. Kel was getting into his harness, and Kay could float herself directly, the lucky cunt.

    ¡°Anyway plastic just doesn¡¯t feel as nice, and imbuing curbs the kick, among other things.¡±

    ¡°Did you shoot fucking Deagles on my HAS?!¡±

    ¡°Only blanks, I swear! I¡¯ll make it up to you later Gamma Boy.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t.¡± He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

    Ril continued, ¡°Very slim armour by the way, though so much for letting my boobies be free.¡± She made an irritated grunt. ¡°I¡¯ll get some custom made myself, I guess. Kay, dear, you want a set too?¡± It was for the ratings; Ril would make arrangements.

    The cute elf gave an absentminded nod her way before returning her focus. ¡°Master, you call this armour, but it seems rather¡­ inconsequential.¡±

    ¡°Ballistic Level 3A, Spike Level 2, and Stab Level 2. It¡¯ll stop a 320 Joule Earth Arrow maybe even one of yours, but don¡¯t depend on it. Use the ballistic shields for cover.¡±

    He slapped one of three black, slightly curved, rectangular shields leaning on a nearby wall. They were about a metre tall and sported larger than standard polycarbonate viewports.

    ¡°These are NIJ IIIA compliant too. Sorry Ril, you¡¯re gonna have to carry your own. I laid on steel mesh and an anchor point for one of your belt spools. Use your magic boys and girls, Or just girls in this case, or just girl. I¡¯m holding yours, Kay.¡±

    Ril¡¯s shield was trivial to tell apart with the overlaid metal mesh. She squirmed, just thinking about it.

    ¡°And what of the fabric-only limbs?¡± inquired Kay.

    ¡°Mostly non-lethal, sacrificing mobility is too high a cost. I custom ordered light Kevlar gambeson. Equivalent to traditional gambeson just lighter.¡±

    Kay nodded and relented placing on her black helmet then turning to check her compound bow.

    Ril appraised her new harness modified for combat.

    ¡°Kel Dear, you wanna tell me what you chose?¡± Given Ril¡¯s limitations of conducting through solids, she had taken to channelling through ever slimmer and more flexible pipes and springs. That was until Kel, in one of their morning sessions, retrieved some steel cable for her to play with. The revelation and implications almost made her dry hump him right there on the HAS, audience be damned. She managed to hold out until lunchtime before jumping him in the corridor and dragging him off to their room. Or was is Medical? Keeping track was getting difficult; she tapped her jaw with a finger.

    ¡°Sure.¡± He ambled over. ¡°Your belt has got two spools out front. One for the shield and the other is your choice.¡± He indicated two hip-positioned spindles with coiled steel cable on them.

    ¡°Length?¡±

    ¡°Eight metres on the lot, we might scale up to more industrial solutions later on.¡±

    ¡°My lips quaketh.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing not the ones I¡¯m looking at?¡± he quirked a humourless eyebrow. Anyway, the wire then feeds through cam cleats and a wire cutter: some final shit I did last night. The cam cleats¡ªyou know, those rope and cable clamps they use on sailboats¡ªwill grip the wire for pulling. Disengage and engage them with magic. Should you need to cut loose, engage the cutter mechanism.¡± Then he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. ¡°Never thought I¡¯d be the one saying ¡®just use magic¡¯. How the mighty fall.¡±

    ¡°Mmmmm, and the back?¡±

    ¡°Six sheaths that six spools feed into, all have cleats and cutters. The shoulder-mounted ones house cylindrical weights: good for concussive attacks. Down the back we have stiletto spikes just below the armpits; these should pierce through chain-mail. They¡¯re your lightest weapons so they can pull the most Gs. Close to eight with your current magic draw by my reckoning, more if you channel just one. Then, just above the kidneys, are claw blades. These will manage all your slicing and slashing related needs. Double-edged Karambit knives basically.¡±

    The six spools were all bilaterally mounted on the spine feeding into their respective sheathes.

    He had sidestepped the chain issue with steel cables. Chains, despite their tensile superiority, massively disrupted Aura Conduction whenever she tried moving the links. Ropes and other cord worked better, but Ril felt decidedly less comfortable manipulating them, and her potency was markedly weaker. They also sported inferior durability and tensile strength.

    ¡°So Manriki ninja weights on cables instead of chains, shivs, and lacerating claws. Are you trying to tell me something, Kel?¡±

    ¡°Ja, if you kill, please do it as quickly and as painlessly as possible.¡±

    ¡°You give a girl such nice presents you know that.¡± She kissed him briefly.

    Kel wordlessly grumbled and helped her into the new harness. Since her mask remained with the old one, she swiped up a combat helmet.

    Expeditiously, armed and armoured, they waited.

    Jon glanced around one last time to confirm everyone was geared. ¡°Lee, ETA on the drop-rift?¡±

    ¡°Thirty seconds. The HAS is decreasing elevation, but we won¡¯t be able to provide air support for a while longer.¡±

    ¡°Arigato, Lee-san. Alright, everyone, rule one: don¡¯t die.¡±

    ¡°There is already a ¡®Rule One¡¯ Master.¡±

    ¡°Rule Three?¡±

    ¡°I must consult my diary.¡±

    He turned to Ril.

    ¡°Much as I¡¯d like a reprint, wearing it in would be a hassle.¡± It was a half-lie, the best kind!

    ¡°Great! Positions people!¡±

    Kay and Kel were on one side of the Rift while Ril took the other. They were not directly in front but off to the side. The Drop Rift and sensor pack from the HAS landed, and their feeds switched to acoustic and thermal overlays. Bodies were bestrewn about the place, and she saw more soldiers gathering at the rubbled entrance. The Rift switched on.

    ¡°Smoke grenades out!¡±

    Ril pulled and tossed hers as Kel did his. The Rift shut as they allowed the grey cloud to obscure the LZ. A minute more and the Rift reengaged.

    Kel announced. ¡°This is the Multiverse Dive Core. On the authority of Sepha Shalen and the Elgelcian Council, you are to lay down your arms and surrender!¡±

    You tell ¡¯em, boy! I just hope they don¡¯t listen. Ril felt her increased arousal as she stepped forth into the smoke, shield in one hand and a Deagle in the other.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Stepping into Epsilon 30-10 was tantalisingly delicious as her magic suffused all her metals just as soon as she completely broke from the event horizon. She felt the shield lighten as her mana ran through the tether from her belt. Letting go, it floated ahead of her; that was never getting old.

    She retrieved the other Deagle; the heft was reduced to wooden toy replicas they became intimately familiar extensions of her hands. The sense of their minutest details and parts scintillated in her mind as she soaked through them. The one barrel had some minor build-up she was previously unaware of, cleaning would have to come later. The safeties flipped off by magic alone, as did the dual cocking. Akimbo never felt this easy.

    Her objective was the entrance. She was to hold the forces entering the hall and rout them if possible. Through the heavy smoke a shadow rapidly approached, she saw him on IR long before that.

    ¡°Halt or die,¡± she announced.

    He chose to die, and her Deagle went off without even lifting or pulling a literal finger. She felt the slug exit the bore aimed at centre mass. The monstrous mechanism barely kicked in her hands as if mounted to the ground. That was certainly worth smiling about, and she did, there was a hearty chuckle too.

    The bellow of the barrel blasted through the hall¡¯s shattered architecture heightening her sonar view for a second. The soldier stumbled a bit and then flopped forward. Two more thermal shadows approached, and the hellish barks of each firearm flared in the half-light. More soldiers found convenient spots to ¡®lie down¡¯.

    Then arrows started clattering and crunching against her shield, she holstered a gun and braced the bulwark so it would not divert with collisions. The action also decreased exposure, and she sighted a huddled heat mass at the razed entrance. The projectiles pathed from that bearing.

    Rilian reluctantly pulled her magical aura from her guns, still sensing them well enough but not actively or intimately. It was time to try the rest of her suite of magical tools, and she could not reliably manipulate more than two at a time, at least for now.

    Shield under bombardment, she trudged obstinately forward. The first of her metal limbs, two over-the-shoulder concussive weights floated free. Trying to deliberately control each thin cable was a fool¡¯s errand. Such a flawed focus made initially deploying her helmet unnecessarily tricky. The wires were merely conduits since her aura attenuated severely through the air.

    The key came from observing Kel practice. After all, watching him closely, real close, was why she was here in the first place. He required no tethers for his plasma lugs since his aura didn¡¯t attenuate through air like hers. He manipulated the housed plasma directly; his focal point was nowhere else. Just so, her focus should be on the ends: the weapons and tools she wanted to move, not the wiring that got her there.

    A few days attempting this, and her brain quickly got the hang of it. Amazing how yea old clump of neurons adapted with input and sleep. The cables were subconsciously taken care of, necessarily imbued and forgotten in the same way her arm was when reaching with her hand.

    Frustrated effort culminating in ecstatic reward. Rilian quivered at the experiences this body had accrued in its brief time since birth. One of the best mistakes she¡¯d made in the last thousand years, maybe more.

    The Manriki weights extended above her on metal tendrils, and she launched them toward the suspected unsuspecting archers. Hearing and feeling the clang of steel on helmets two figures staggered back and collapsed, the twang of dropped bows echoed in the din.

    Exiting the thinning smoke, she saw the entrance.

    A group of five phalanx troops took up the vanguard with four archers shooting over them. It would have been six moments ago, the two bowmen with dented helms and bleeding scalps sat limp against the rubbled wall. Finally seeing her widened the eyes on the majority of the elven soldiers.

    Black helmet and shield with exotic reflective eyes, she wondered just how they parsed what they saw.

    ¡°3 warnings and you persist,¡± she declared.

    ¡°Archers fire!¡± It was in Elven, but the relevant derivative Latin linguistics had been compiled for this mind. The accent was off, but comprehension was nigh on native. The barrage continued, and one hit the viewport divoting the material on impact. Earthbow projectiles were no joke.

    ¡°Billions of sentients die each day in the multiverse. Do you want to join them?¡±

    ¡°Draw¡­¡± Repeated an archer. ¡°¡­loose!¡± Another volley hit her and rang off the shield. Out the corner of her eye, a thermal signature peeked out from a pillar, she saw the arrow loose but could not react soon enough. It hit her side squarely and knocked the wind from her. If only he hit my arm! Such a lost scarring opportunity, what a disappointment!

    The offending archer ducked back behind the pillar.

    ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t.¡± She extended a shiv from her back, it slivered like a viper through the air and stabbed blindly around the bend until she heard the right sounds. Namely cries of pain. Then she retracted the shiv. Dashing to the side, she kept the entrance troops shielded and maintained a circumspect approach around the pillar¡ªno sense in being caught in close.

    The man was there, left upper arm bleeding a short sword unsheathed in the other. ¡°Stand the fuck down, you idiot.¡± The defiance in his eyes was admirable; it was also stupid. She shot a leg with her Deagle and knocked him out with a Manriki before the moaning would start.

    Controlling multiple metal tethers was a bit of a strain. Had Rilian thought to need multitasking, she might have made some adjustments. The impotence was so¡­ intoxicating. No, no, she had to remain calm, now was not the time for excitement.

    Continuing her flank, she sped around the side and caught the group trying to reposition. This time she focused and allowed both spikes to slither free, they bobbed through the air and dove for the archers. There were many places to stab, and after two metres, the shivs were hard to see, but she could feel them. Stainless steel fangs, long as knitting needles, she knew where she sent them just as if flailing a limb.

    Elven arms and legs were targeted. These men were merely loyal idiots; Rilian would not be wasteful. Cries of horrified shock and pain erupted from the unit as she maimed the archers first. The spikes withdrew, leaving the backline with bleeding arms and legs. The archers desperately routed, stumbling and limping out the broken hall. Fearful screams followed their retreat.

    The phalanx remained frozen, their eyes wide in disbelief. What good was a defensive formation if your enemy could attack behind you on a whim.

    ¡°Do you wanna join the sea of split blood? Now¡¯s your chance.¡± Ril gave a broad smile; her spikes casually retracted dripping red. It reminded her of the war machines she piloted in battles past. What technological memories to recall in such a medieval world.

    Apparently too petrified to move, she advanced on them and interchanged the shivs with her claws. Not as speedy as the spikes but far more utilitarian, the Karambits clasped the top of two shields and tried to yank them free, one quickly came loose, the wood and metal panel clattered on the stones. The other struggled a bit, so she clawed further and further behind. There was an arm somewhere back there. Horrified the soldier threw the shield off and scrambled backwards, pole-arm forgotten. The shield-less men scampered away, as did another who lost his nerve. That left a lone soldier who refused yield. He dropped his pole-arm and retrieved a sword.

    Longsword huh? Somebody¡¯s overcompensating.¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Yes I am, beguiling witch. You fall by my sword today.¡± She clawed for his shield, but it did not come free. Instead, she felt a familiar force push back. It was similar, but the taste was a shade different.

    ¡°A melee Earth Mage? You smart little boy!¡± Tilting her head, ¡°Let¡¯s see how smart.¡± She swiped from left and right with the claws like pincers, the shield blocked one, and his sword expertly parried the other. As they connected his power briefly fought with hers for dominion over the steel, the resultant blows became flaccid.

    Her metal limbs pulled away lethargically. ¡°It¡¯s my first time feeling that. Oh, god, please surprise me more!¡±

    Swinging at a claw with his sword, he instead caught the cable behind it. The wire rope wrapped around his sword, and as Ril tried to rip the blade from his hand. With a huff, he channelled magic through the sword and into her cable pushing her from it entirely. The assertive ploy caught her breath a bit. The man then yanked with all his might.

    Each cable usually fed above a cam cleat on her back so it would not engage all the time. As such, the man just reeled more of the spooled cable out; she had a meter or two to spare. Should she desire it, Ril could engage the cleat and start a tugging match, but now was not the time. If the man wanted the toy so much he could have it; Ril was not above sharing. She engaged the cutter just after the cleat on her lower left tether.

    The blustering boy had braced expecting some valiant struggle, instead, losing all resistance as he pulled threw him backwards, arms flailing comically.

    This was so much fun! Killing him would be a waste. ¡°Do you have any more tricks? Please say ¡®yes¡¯!¡±

    Another wayward soldier ran from the smoke, spear in hand. She offhandedly shield-parried the thrust and spiked both his thighs as he ran past. The hapless fool face-planted and slid on the floor, the occasional loose stone pinging off his helmet as he ground to a halt.

    ¡°My name is Ril, by the way.¡± She idly concussed the prone soldier as she spoke.

    The sword-bearer cautiously found his feet. ¡°I am Dain Kelris. Your mercy was foolhardy, fanciful tools aside you magical grasp is weak.¡±

    ¡°Teach me a lesson then; I¡¯ve been a naughty girl.¡± A Manriki flew from her back toward his shield. The distance was a good four metres away and by the time he braced the solid steel crunched into the reinforced wood.

    Grunting under the blow, he slid a metre back. The other Manriki flew in to find a softer target. Deftly dodging the fighter spun and clipped the cable shearing the clump of steel free. The cut weight and cable continued past clattering and rolling on the stone. Ril was down two limbs: one hook blade and a concussive weight.

    ¡°Very good!¡± said Ril.

    In the act of shielding the first Manriki, he had pelted it to the side and then turned to cut the second. This left his back open as Ril spooled the first weight back toward her. Taking advantage of this, she swung the weapon out in a whipping arc as she pulled it in. She heard the cable whistle through the air as the Manriki thunked the back of his head.

    Staggering forward, Dain used his sword as a crutch; the defiant dolt was only dazed instead of out cold. Perhaps he imbued the helmet.

    ¡°Give up, please. I kinda like you.¡±

    ¡°Never!¡± Dain shakily found his feet. It was very ¡®last stand¡¯. However, killing people with a death wish was boring, and Ril needed more Earthmage buddies. Her friends circle was rather small at the moment.

    ¡°Uh, Huh.¡± While he was recovering her spikes had wormed a circuitous route low to the ground and behind him.

    The soldier¡¯s eyes finally caught sight of her trailing cables, but it was too late.

    They darted from behind and speared both his legs, just to be sure she quickly speared his sword arm too.

    The man fell forward in a holler of disbelieving pain.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, the wounds are really clean, you¡¯ll make a full recovery.¡±

    She cautiously approached just outside two metres of the soldier who was flailing fruitlessly on the ground.

    ¡°You¡­ will never escape Elgelica, human.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not human, silly! Ah! I just had a brilliant idea!¡± She fidgeted with her belt hung rift pouch and retrieved a syringe with General anaesthetic. Tying a severed cable around it, she found she could imbue the plastic, but her grasp was a little ¡®slippery¡¯. In contrast, the needle was fine. Weaving it swiftly through the air she struck Dain in the neck and squeezed the contents out.

    ¡°AH! You witc¡­¡± And the swordsman dozed off.

    ¡°Wonderful!¡± There were a whole host of things she wanted to put on the end of wires now. Scanning about the entrance, it was mostly deserted or housing the unconscious and dead.

    Ril gave her report. ¡°The entrance is neutralised and under our control, over.¡±

    Dain had almost got her off; he was no Kel though, her tampon was still perfectly serviceable.

    ¡°Better luck next time, Dain.¡± She sauntered off to sweep the area.

 12.4 Life and Auras

    Smoke: an elementary substance. It blanketed everything. The mysterious undulating cloud obscured the world from Jon and him from it.

    As they exited the Rift, it engulfed he and Kay; embracing friend and foe alike. Smoke was also a selective mistress taking some sights and leaving others; the vision she left untouched was the light of heat. He saw the bodies, still warm, strewn across the floor, the sensors gave the cavernous, and newly roofless room, dimensions as well.

    Security came first. ¡°Hoisting the shields.¡± Plasma lugs were bolted to the handles, and he sought them out in his second sight. There you are my pretties. And like glowing stars in the abyss, his sense gravitated toward them.

    With intention and practised measure, his shield lost all weight, a feather on his arm. That was not enough; he let go, and it floated in place. Repeating the process Kay¡¯s shield floated free moments later.

    ¡°¡®Tis aloft.¡± She whispered. He knew, of course, finding the plasma, and hence the shield, was easy. Finding Kay, on the other hand, was harder.

    Yes, the sensors saw her, but Jon had recently developed another means. His diffusive aura spread like the smoke they bathed in, broad and inconsequential easy to pervade but sensitive, very sensitive.

    He could not ¡®see¡¯ Kay with his aura per se, but he readily felt where it was not and where he could not go. She was a shadow in his sense, a blank no-mans-land, and he knew her void intimately.

    From hours of meditation together the shape and movement of her aura reminded him of a globular yoyo. It stuck to her uniformly, but she could extend a mass of it out at will.

    She waded through his with ease as she threw her sense about, and he felt it as if his was a magical analogue of the smoke that enveloped them, her movement convected his aura about whichever way she went.

    He did not need to extend his exotic sense, the usual extent alone covered a good ten metres diminishing toward the edges. Kay was well within that.

    The exception to her boisterous aura was his body, and his element: the state of plasma was his domain. She could pass through or around it, but if he chose to imbue the solar fire, then she could do nothing but watch.

    They had tried preventing imbuement, blocking another¡¯s approach and the like. However, auras, although similar in a perceptive sense, did not work like physical things. The mind interpreted it as physical space being inhabited, but in reality, it was more like wireless communication.

    The transmission was directed, and stuff on the same wavelength lit up when hit, the interference of other signals was only a secondary byproduct¡ªan extremely beneficial byproduct for a weak and ephemeral mage like Jon. It allowed him to keep the shield near Kay and move with her, just as he did with his. I¡¯m fucking Merlin with an AK.

    It took a fair bit of practice, and focus, to float the shields and keep them positioned. The tactical benefits, in exchange, were immense. Extra floating hands meant Jon and Kay could hold rifle and bow respectively while moving with mobile cover.

    On the other side of the hall, booms from Ril¡¯s Deagles shattered the deathly silence as she gleefully engaged with wanton abandon. She literally went in guns blazing; unhinged cackles followed between blasts.

    Jon shook his head and gave a sub-vocal grunt, returning to their task. They were all geared for levitation as well but were unlikely to use it for this engagement.

    Sure, flying was great, but the exposure was increased by one hundred per cent. It opened them up to getting shot at from the other hemisphere. Entering hostile territory at a leisurely glide was not Jon¡¯s idea of a safe approach. Not to mention grasping with two extra ¡®limbs¡¯ on the shields was already tangling Jon¡¯s motor neurons like a clump of stringy Natto.

    ¡°The entrance is neutralised and under our control, over.¡± Ril came through on comms.

    ¡°Roger, sweep and provide backup when you can. Over.¡± Jon looked to Kay, and they advanced.

    ¡°I shall proceed with checking for life.¡± Kay extended her magical sight from warm corpse to corpse. The test was simple: if she could enter, the tenant was no longer renting. ¡°On the left, sprawled figure, the aura clings thinly.¡±

    They moved over to check. A soldier, battered, bleeding, and cloaked in dust, lay unconscious.

    ¡°Clear.¡± Just as he spoke, something rustled the magical ¡®reeds¡¯ at his back. It was brief and right on the periphery. Jon spun quickly and repositioned the shield. A large clump of bodies was that way.

    ¡°Master?¡±

    ¡°Be ready.¡± He felt her magical void nod. From the position of her arms, she likely had an arrow strung and drawn. The side benefit of being a super-strong superhero: keeping a 185kg bow drawn was effortless.

    They crept forward, and Kay resumed her checks. To the left of the mound of bodies was the splintered and dust-covered throne. A majestic and venerable thing mere minutes before; it was reduced to an unrecognisable pile of wood and stone.

    ¡°Another near the throne.¡± Approaching they found an archer, broken bow still clutched uselessly in hand. The female soldier sat sprawled next to the tattered remains of the throne, wheezing and with a leg splayed crookedly to one side. The blank stare of shell-shock, a concussion, or worse kept her inattentive to their presence.

    No immediate threat meant no immediate shooting. Hers was but to do and die, and she isn¡¯t doing anything anymore.

    Jon felt the dry lump in his throat and swallowed. There was always collateral, always.

    They left her; only one target was designated for extraction.

    The smoke had begun to clear, enabling him to visually confirm his nearby partner once more. He glanced to confirm she was indeed swivelling about comfortably with a drawn bow. Not a tremor in her sleek but wiry arms nor a crease of strain showed on her face, wow.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    His reverie was interrupted by bellowed battle cries. A quartet of soldiers erupted from a shielded hallway behind the throne.

    Kay released her arrow as Jon drew up his sights. Interposing the shields and getting a headcount just as Kay¡¯s steel-tipped shaft whizzed through the lead soldier.

    The projectile propelled by the Life Bow didn¡¯t stop, punching through the steel cuirass like paper and embedding in the stone wall beyond. The unfortunate soldier bucked and buckled under the impact with a cruel spray of blood and viscera erupting from the exit wound.

    Jon was so morbidly fascinated¡ªand a tad proud¡ªthat he initially failed to open fire.

    Unperturbed, Kay reached for another fletching from her bow-mounted Rift Quiver. A more traditional backup quiver was on her back holding a cluster of identical projectiles.

    The Rift Quiver was no more than a ring affixed to the aluminium frame with the end of an arrow fletching sticking out the draw side.

    As Kay pulled and notched the new arrow shaft, it extended, as if from nowhere, to a full arrow; akin to the archetypal rabbit from a hat, only more deadly. Completely drawn from his realm, the polished head dropped a short distance into the waiting receptacle from which it would be shot.

    Much as Jon would like to take credit, feeding ammo was the first thing tried by almost every military around the world upon acquiring Rift tech. The particular bow frame mods and the bunker-side feeder he adapted from archery forums. Rift Bows required custom frames and a bit of practice for the most optimised implementations, which is why the new monsters Kay wielded were the first to utilise them.

    It could only feed one kind of arrow for the moment. Future modifications could change that, but having near-infinite ammo was already a logistical wet-dream.

    Jon sported Rift magazines for this particular operation too, because of course he did. Their distinctive, bulky, circular bottoms¡ªdue to design constrains for Rifts and munitions clearance¡ªset them apart from standard fare. All rifts had to be circular; nature abhorred corners along with vacuums. Except when it didn¡¯t, like most of the known universe of cold stellar emptiness with very sharp gravitational spikes of dense matter and black holes. Entropy is working on it, though.

    Kay loosed her second arrow less than a second after the first. Another poor soldier was skewered, this time through the head. The back of his skull erupted in a bloody mess. The arrow, apparently unsatisfied with brutal discombobulation, dislodged the helmet and pinned it to the rear wall. It clanged like a bell as it struck stone.

    The other two soldiers sped forward unfazed. They expected some to fall in the charge and Kay couldn¡¯t possibly notch another arrow before they closed. That¡¯s when Jon sighted his reticle and squeezed the trigger.

    Two efficient bursts of lead later and the exquisite plate mail, meant to protect, was turned Iron Maiden in some cruel parody. Bullets and metal shattered on impact sending shrapnel to mince flesh below.

    The bodies clattered and splayed on the masonry floor, followed by the deathly silence that often suceeded gunfire. Rifle braced, Jon scanned around for more targets with Kay on his left flank.

    Again, just as his attention eased an aura shadow flitted past. The way it moved and felt, set his nerves on edge; he couldn¡¯t quite place as to why.

    The locus of activity was narrowed now, the clump of bodies was all that remained. As they approached something definitively retreated, a terrible sign.

    In any event, there was only so far to move back, and the shadow disappeared into the remaining corpses as Jon¡¯s aura enveloped all of it. The cadavers were all still fresh and warm, adding substantial interference. Organics, especially complex ones, were not nearly as permissive as inorganic matter. Jon rested his finger on the trigger.

    Kay set about her life signs appraisal, ¡°Searching.¡±

    No sooner had she begun when an aura wormed forth from the bodies; the uncannily familiar globular shadow swept harmlessly across them but undoubtedly registered Kay and Jon¡¯s presence.

    Jon¡¯s nagging concerns sublimated to full-on recognition: ¡°Life mage!¡± he yelled.

    The bodies erupted, and a man darted toward the throne. Jon fired as did Kay but the figure moved expertly, taking advantage of the starling spectacle and using pillars for cover. The person rolled, retrieved something, and dove for obstructions once more.

    Jon felt the shadow stretch and bob about within his presence, the similarities to Kay¡¯s aura were undeniable, and yet the two were easily distinguishable. The difference could not easily be parsed into words, nor did he currently have the time to care. Telling them apart, aside from manifest positioning was knowledge enough. The aura felt them, and they sensed it. Jon would have to rethink combat and engagements after this¡ªalong with protocol and manners. He shoved the reeling chain of thought to the side.

    The most urgent concern was anticipating the opponent¡¯s next move. As a void brushed up to Kay and hovered there, he realised, ¡°Kay, duck!¡±

    The man threw, and there was barely time to position the shield as a projectile gonged on impact. Something long and heavy had embedded itself deep into the material. Jon felt the extra weight, and his magic strained against the imparted momentum.

    Kay let an arrow fly, and it hit. The silhouette spun with the impact and yelled out in pain, but the figure managed to stay behind cover as he spoke.

    ¡°Ces-sun, I could train you. This simpleton knows nothing of the power of your magic!¡±

    They cautiously approached.

    Kay replied, ¡°It is what he does know and what you do not, that interests me more Caina.¡±

    ¡°What could humans possibly absorb in their meagre lives!¡± he bitterly retorted.

    ¡°The art of learning is more powerful than the reward of knowledge. You covet rather than foster, that much is clear.¡±

    This fucker was buying time, but for what? Jon¡¯s mind raced. Caina¡¯s aura had retreated from view, so Jon spread his sense as far as he could to get a better look. The game of Rock, Paper, Magic meant an average aura, even of the Earth variety could extend with a focused target far further than his Plasma could diffuse to sense it. Earth mages needed tethers but did not need to imbue the whole length, only conducting through and grasping the part they needed. Life Mages and up didn¡¯t even have those minor qualms. Seeing where such a mage was focused in a room full of the recently dead was an exercise in futility. He sensed only the distorted shadows of bodies.

    Bodies! As he spun about, a previously dead soldier sat up and lobbed something at him. He dodged, but an edge lightly caught his neck. ¡°Fuck!¡± he ignored the pain.

    Urgently switching tactics, Jon rushed up and dove past the pillars, emptying his clip as he fell. Caina needed to be neutralised before any more cadavers decided to ¡®help¡¯.

    A few landed, but the stubborn shit was still up.

    Then came Kay, and in the diffuse smoke, he saw her bow forgotten. Instead, she lunged with a clean right hook at the lord¡¯s chest; an agonising crunch echoed off the surroundings, and the nobleman flew into a nearby pillar.

    Even with Jon rapidly feeling light-headed, it did not distract him from Caina¡¯s head exploding as one of Ril¡¯s Manriki pummeled the dude¡¯s skull.

    Ah, my crew is fucken beautiful!

    Things started getting very slow, and his body was quite weak for some reason. He crawled to a wall with extreme effort and slumped on it for support. Slouching against the stonework, his head lolled to the side. Being off his feet felt great; he was surprisingly quite exhausted.

    Staring down, his chest was surprisingly wet, warm and wet. That brought back erotic memories, but this time it was red: probably not a good sign.

    Why was it so dark, he wondered. Faces were approaching him, one with exotic swirling eyes of bright pink and blue, pretty. The other¡¯s were a duller green, determined but friendly, good eyes. It was sad to leave those eyes, but the darkness called.

    Oyasumi! he mentally declared. Actual words were donnerse moeilik. Ja, it was definitely time to sleep; so he did.

 12.5 Cant I Die in Peace!

    Emptiness. Nothing continued out forever on all axes and every frame of reference.

    The thing out of place was him. He was cramping oblivion¡¯s style. Apologising profusely to the abyss, he attempted earnestly to fix that.

    Were it not for an incessant voice that kept rapping on his skull; he would have achieved dissolution long since. It said, ¡°Let me in!¡± Thud. ¡°Let me in!¡± Thud. Like a broken record, it would not relent.

    No conscious effort to remain was being exerted on his part; he was happy to go away. Why anyone wanted to intervene in this completely consensual state of affairs was beyond him.

    But the voice was very insistent, so he tried to appease it. It could come in for a bit, and then he would go: a small decency that cost him nothing.

    How to let it in was another matter. Jon looked up and about, trying to orient toward the source. Not there, or there. He closed his eyes to isolate it better. The voice and accompanying pounding felt as if it was physically pressuring him with every attempt. Like his skin was an unintentional barrier; it pressed in on his every pore.

    He definitely didn¡¯t mean to hold it back but on further introspection realised an unconscious element of his will was the culprit. It resisted the foreign visitor, no invader, on primal instinct. It was an almost feral, primitive thing. Were he not immersed in an abyssal void with no other distraction, he might never have isolated it.

    Even as he faded, it fought intrusion with no less zeal. The visitor and it both had a passion about them to which he really couldn¡¯t relate: like a guard dog trying to impress his owner by barking and growling at anything trying to enter its territory.

    Chill, whoever it is they won¡¯t stay for long. We¡¯re leaving soon anyway remember? He quelled the indignant part of himself and it, very reluctantly, acquiesced.

    The churning pressure beyond him immediately flooded inward, and he gasped in surprise.

    The abyssal curtains pulled back, and he saw the rush of verdant greenery enter from every direction. Before he knew it, instead of the comfortable nothingness, there was a fucken forest!

    He blinked as the breeze abated. This is new, not bad, but new.

    Walking forward, he appraised his luscious scenery. An old forest of tall ferns, mossy logs, and stones surrounded him.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± The voice sounded quite relieved. It came from everywhere resounding through the forest, rustling through the leaves and vibrating the stones underfoot.

    ¡°No, thank you!¡± Turn about was fair play. He could dig a forest, why not.

    An uneven stone path led his way, so he walked. Nowhere, in particular, he had no pressing needs. The air he breathed deeply was fresh and crisp. The forest almost felt part of him as he progressed as if its life suffused him. It made him feel different: younger and energised. That was kiff, forests weren¡¯t really a thing where he was from, but he could totally understand the allure.

    ¡°I feel him slipping! He has lost too much already.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Well if he had to go, he had to go. Such was life.

    ¡°Don¡¯t feel bad. Leaving is fine for me. This was nice anyhow.¡±

    ¡°Do it.¡±

    ¡°Do what?¡± There was a hiss, and mist blew in from behind his feet. Turning about, the path he walked on was no longer there. In its place was a moss-covered glade and a strange metallic stand rose up in its centre.

    That wasn¡¯t part of any forest he knew. The stand was a matte silver with a large red button. He understood what red buttons were for, but he was fuzzy on whether hitting or not hitting them was the most important. He checked pockets for a coin to flip but came up short.

    ¡°Kel,¡± said another voice, ¡°you have to choose. I will know when you do.¡±

    ¡°Choose, huh?¡± He mulled the idea over. Meh, what harm was a bit of fun before the end? He strolled into the meadow and stood before the button. ¡°I push it right?¡±

    ¡°I am losing him! Why isn¡¯t it working!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve received no indication yet. I¡¯m sorry the rules are clear and for good reason.¡±

    These people were ignoring him, fuck it. The sun was setting, and if he didn¡¯t push the button soon, he might not have enough light to see what it did.

    Doing nothing was clearly doing nothing, that left only one option. Jon lifted a hand and, with a brief pause and final breath, boldly bashed the thing with his fist.

    No response.

    So, Jon bashed it a few more times. It was definitely the right technique. Buttons were meant to be bashed, especially big red ones.

    ¡°Okay, okay!¡± The second voice chuckled with melodious undertones. ¡°His signal is clear! It can proceed. The little tike bangs hard, even on death¡¯s door!¡±

    And something did proceed; a star bloomed in the sky like a second sun returning the world to midday.

    ¡°Woah, nooit bra!¡± Jon had to shield his eyes.

    Then the stand rapidly melted into a mercury-like puddle. It soaked through Jon¡¯s boots and proceeded to soak up his legs like he was a glorified washing sponge. Except, sponges didn¡¯t soak up mercury, and he was no sponge, so the metaphor completely failed. Actually, that was a simile, he corrected. Semantics aside it didn¡¯t change the fact that metallic shit was turning him silvery grey like the Tin Man!

    So he did what all great men did in situations such as this, which is none that I can recall: he freaked the fuck out! That entailed running around the glade, rolling and sliding, all in a botched attempt to scrape the shit off on the grass. Instead, it inexorably covered him from toe to head, oblivious to his actions. He also screamed like a little bitch, all the while doing it.

    After running out of breath, and having to pause, he realised it was probably the second stupidest action he had performed in this glade so far, and he had only done to two things!

    Looking down, he was completely grey. Well fuck. Then it sank below the skin, and he was back to normal again. That was probably a lie, but if you can¡¯t lie to yourself, then who can you lie to.

    He huffed in defeat, ¡°Okay, your kak is done! Can I go now?¡±

    There was no reply.

    ¡°Hello?¡± Who was he kidding, this was an empty bloody forest. He was likely talking to himself and having the most epic trip ever. He didn¡¯t recall what drugs he took, so some investigative deductions were in order once he came back down; this wack place was worth revisiting.

    ¡°HELLO, KEL,¡± boomed the second voice.

    ¡°Holy shit!¡± It startled the piss out of him; he haplessly ducked and covered his ears. ¡°Why are you so loud! Am I high? I¡¯m high right now, aren¡¯t I?¡±

    She laughed a little, and the volume modulated rapidly to comfortable levels. ¡°You are¡­ not high. But you need to sleep for a little while. It¡¯s temporary. Can you do that?¡±

    Of course sleep was temporary, was she high? Whatever, sleeping off a trip was a waste in his book. But if the gigantic voice in the sky said so, then who was he to argue.

    ¡°Okay. Do I lie down here?¡±

    ¡°Whatever works.¡±

    ¡°Wakarimashita!¡± He flopped down on the soft grass and shut his eyes. Darkness took him again almost instantly.

 12.6 Arise

    ¡°Arg!¡± Opening his eyes, mottled light poured in. He didn¡¯t feel so good; what happened to feeling refreshed after sleep! He wanted the glade and forest back; this bed needed to take notes on real comfort.

    Come to think of it, the sensation of that place was still partly with him. The one at fault, as with most things, was him; he just felt kak.

    That pleasant sensation poured in through his left hand. It was attached to another hand and, fortunately, another body too.

    Kay slept next to him; her hair was too damn long again; it trailed off the bed in successive ponytail crops making repeated bunches of curly blond hair. He wondered if it would make good rope. ¡®Rapunzel¡¯ merchandising perhaps? They could weave a whole souvenir product line with the speed it grew. Rilian would love it, which probably meant it was a bad idea.

    Come to think of it; his hair was no better. Ascertaining it with his free right hand, confirmed that some Jesus shit going on with his weighty brown locks and a full beard. Gotta fix that, don¡¯t wanna give people the wrong idea.

    ¡°So we¡¯ve progressed to hand-holding?¡± He mumbled absently.

    The elf did not stir.

    ¡°Welcome back, Kel,¡± said another sensual voice. It was not as adulated as the phrase¡¯s semantics would indicate. The tone was, instead, quite reserved. He caught sight of Ril sitting on a stool beyond the ornate bedposts ¡ª definitely not his bed, or room. Jon was no stranger to waking up in foreign beds, nor being fuzzy on how he got there. Although, in this case, with the clear tubes sticking into his arm he was both disappointed and relieved: disappointed that funky times likely had not preceded, and relieved that he would probably not have to get partially dressed and leave hurriedly.

    She came over to check his IV drip and the other machinery arrayed near the ornate bed.

    ¡°This is not the med bay.¡±

    ¡°No, Seph was kind enough to lend a room. Kay could not assist you within the Bunker.¡± Rilian flashed a soft smile the Life Mage¡¯s way.

    Seeing something that genuine on the Alpha¡¯s face almost gave him a heart attack.

    ¡°She¡¯s a persistent little girl. Observant, insightful, and she tests her suppositions; I wonder where she learned that from?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    Ril came close and kissed him before they locked foreheads. Her minty breath and pheromones were like sniffing salts. Now, he was awake! Ah fuck, everything feels terrible I don¡¯t wanna be this conscious!

    ¡°She saved you, but only barely. Blood can drain rather quickly, especially from a neck wound like that.¡± She stroked a rough patch of skin on the left side of his neck.

    ¡°Another scar for your collection; I¡¯m rather jealous, jealous, but grateful. The moniker of Life Mage was quite apt. Once she managed to channel into you, she stopped the bleeding completely. Held the blood back and wound closed by literal force of will.¡± Ril gazed thoughtfully at Kay and him clasping hands on the bed.

    He felt the slim fingers squeeze his unconsciously; even as she peacefully dozed.

    Ril continued, ¡°I¡¯m gonna call it ¡®buffing¡¯. You¡¯ll agree with the name, I¡¯m sure. A power to make all medical professionals, from multiple worlds, clamour hand over foot to get here. Your recruit made an incredible discovery; you should be proud.¡±

    Some nagging pride did manage to worm its way past his cynicism, so he avoided its ramifications by changing the subject.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°I had the most epic trip, Ril! First, it was a dark void, not bad dark, just empty dark, you know? Then there was this forest all green and mossy and shit, till I came to this glade with a red button. And you know I fucken pushed that bliksemse button, did I ever!¡±

    The Alpha smiled; it looked quite heartfelt, reaching up to her eyes.

    She needed to stop with these authentic emotions soon, or Jon was going to relapse into a coma.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you did.¡± She pulled away and got more serious.

    ¡°How long has it been?¡± He coughed, damn his throat was dry.

    ¡°A month. You were almost brain dead. Even with Kay, there were... complications. It¡¯s a good thing you requested a Sawbones when you did. Had I not been here¡­ this story would have had a different ending.¡± She tilted her head quizzically and continued.

    ¡°You did well Kel; enough pieces were in play before you fell off the board. The negotiators from your world arrived last week. Seph has them wrapped around her little finger. You chose that silver sophist well.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve said this repeatedly. I chose fuck all; they chose me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s bullshit Kel, and you know it. You chose to help Kay, and then she chose to follow you. You chose to meet Seph and then she chose to ally with you. I chose to come down, and you could have rejected me. We both know it. The truth is, we chose each other. The inscrutable and haphazard webs of agency, cause, and effect ensnare us all. No one gets to opt out of its flawed, but inexorable, beauty while simultaneously existing. Its a packaged deal.¡±

    Jon gave up with a shrug. ¡°Can I at least get a coffee, while you wax lyrical?¡± Being bedridden, he could not physically run away from this conversation. Breastfeeding from her is far less uncomfortable.

    Ril pressed on, ¡°What makes you interesting is that you freely choose the mundane, seeing magnificence in it. Or you see the lofty and find the pedestrian. You accept whoever is before you, entirely and completely, then you transform them, and they willingly embrace it. How could they not when you love them so! You are beautiful!¡± Rilian held a cheek in her hand.

    Drained as he was, she was making him blush, which was astounding given what they had already done in the bedroom.

    ¡°High praise from an Alpha.¡±

    ¡°Yes, it is Kel. That¡¯s why¡ª¡±

    ¡°Master?¡± All of a sudden lots of curly blond locks were in his face, and a vice lock around his chest prevented him from breathing.

    ¡°¡­air ¡­need ¡­air.¡± He tapped out, on the back of his assailant.

    Releasing her grip, she substituted it with different torture. ¡°You. Are. NOT.¡± She pounded his chest with each word, and he gasped with every forced deflation. "Allowed. To. DIE. For a long time still, do you hear me Jonathan Kelly of the Divers?!¡± She wagged a finger in his face.

    Weakly he tried to answer. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am?¡± He was not sure if the sacred phrase still sufficed.

    ¡°Good. As it is we are a month behind in classes, you have a lot of catching up to do.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°Did you expect me to teach myself?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± That was definitely the wrong answer. Her face became placid terror.

    Ril was bemused. ¡°I¡¯m gonna leave you two.¡±

    ¡°No, wait, Ril! Save me! I promise good sex, I swear!¡±

    ¡°As if you¡¯d slack! And we¡¯re a month behind too. Back to the grind with you Gamma Boy; then you grind me later.¡± Ril left the room, and him to his fate: an absolute traitor.

    ¡°Well, well, Master. ¡®Carp-pay-dee-em¡¯ I believe is the saying; your butchered Elven sayings are terribly pronounced, by the way. I have a rather full tome of questions I seek answers to. Shall we start with Magic or Science?¡±

    ¡°Your Master needs sustenance and rest apprentice.¡±

    ¡°Ril fed you with a tube, not an hour earlier, and I can sense your state while we share my energy. Master¡¯s needs are met; I am intimately aware of them after one month, I assure you.¡±

    Mother-fucker, was she competing with Ril over the title for ¡®best stalker¡¯!

    ¡°Ah, shit!¡±

    ¡°Now, now Master I need your more erudite side, if you please. Hmm¡­¡± Kay sat up, she had lain fully clothed above the sheets, and she retrieved a notebook from the nightstand with accompanying pen.

    Even as they broke contact, her connection with him remained. The kick it gave was incomparable to any performance stimulant he knew, calming and empowering all at once: the pure essence of Kay¡¯s magic imbuing him directly.

    ¡°Let us start with magic, what might your insights be as to the benefits of sharing my power with you as we are?¡±

    Where was a horny Alpha when you needed one!

 12.7 A Trip with Altitude

    Keya was blindfolded as she was led out by Master¡¯s, firm and assuring, hands gripping hers. The chilly breeze hit her as she tentatively stepped forth from the Rift Room to gods-knew-where. Rustling leaves and distant town bustle met her ears. Carefully sitting down on a hard angled surface, she listened to her comrades¡¯ banter. Being blindfolded, she had not much else to do but hug her knees and wait. She was not look until explicitly permitted. Her magic returned as she crossed the threshold, so that narrowed the possible destinations.

    Keya furtively reached forth with her aura to appraise the surroundings.

    ¡°Hey! No cheating, Kay! I can feel you groping about.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me, Master.¡± Though she was not truly contrite, she would need to find better methods to shroud her movements in future. Master¡¯s magical omniscience was a frustrating advantage she wished to quash.

    Jon returned to his previous discourse with Ster-sun. ¡°You¡¯re sure, Ril?¡±

    ¡°I stake my ¡®completely¡¯ legitimate medical expertise on it, I swear. Where the hell did you get it?¡±

    ¡°I keep my secrets close, and my dealers even closer Ms van Ster.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s from that Luren herb lady, isn¡¯t it. How did you even find it amongst all those dried leaves? We were in the store for less than five minutes.¡±

    ¡°Well child, you will learn in time that I have an eye for these things. I¡¯m just grateful the magical malady isn¡¯t originally from America.¡±

    ¡°I was wondering why you didn¡¯t usually take American jobs.¡±

    ¡°Plenty Italian ones though.¡± Master¡¯s voice turned and called in her direction, ¡°Alright, Kay; you can look now.¡±

    She pulled the silk wraps from her face. Very comfortable, and rather decadent for a simple blindfold. Passing it back to Rilian, Keya looked around.

    ¡°Master! Why are we on top of the Spire?! Heights are not my strong suit.¡± The four gargantuan trees that pillared the Spire extended well past the building¡¯s structure, tapering further up to form Elgelica¡¯s lofty canopy. The trees gave her some comfort, but seeing only infinite leaves, branches, and sky with no ground in sight was unnerving.

    Ril floated above the roof via metal plates attached to her harness. Pocketing the cloth, she skipped and levitated back to Jon.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The justification for this elaborate secrecy involved something about her first ¡®trip¡¯ needing to be ¡®special¡¯. Even sitting a safe distance from the roof edge, and being able to fly at any time, the sudden realisation of her location startled her.

    Jon asked, ¡°A Wood Elf in an Elven forest and you¡¯re still freaking? We sit in the HAS like every day.¡±

    ¡°The HAS is a detached sight, too far down to conceive of as more than a pretty picture. This is¡­¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright, if you get too scared, just jump back through the Rift. We¡¯re really just starting the trip here. Ril and I have ordered a special munchies menu tailored to your likes and a few other surprises.¡±

    ¡°It is a celebration for me? My day of birth is yet a few months off.¡±

    ¡°Ril roll. Show me what ya got.¡±

    ¡°Like I haven¡¯t rolled a million spliffs, Kel.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a ¡®thank you¡¯ for saving my life,¡± replied Master.

    ¡°He¡¯s lying Kay,¡± said Ster-sun. ¡°Kel needs little to no excuse to get high. But he is trying to accommodate you. It¡¯s kind of an unwritten rule to assist first-timers, and Kel has an outstanding trip personality if I do say so myself. I¡¯m rather excited to be physically with him for once.¡±

    ¡°That is the highest praise I have ever heard from you, Star Girl. I am touched! Truly, ya got me right here in the feels.¡± Master patted his chest in faux ingenuity.

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you where you can get me tonight. Hold one back for that, in fact.¡±

    ¡°Uhhh¡­,¡± floundered Jon.

    ¡°Focus, Master! What are we doing here?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re getting high, that¡¯s what.¡±

    ¡°Meaning?¡±

    ¡°We are going to puff on a magical herb and go magical places.¡± He gestured in the manner of a smoking pipe. ¡°Now, I¡¯m not sure how fast the THC will burn through your enhanced system, nor how fast it will engage. So, just to be safe, you¡¯re going first, and I¡¯ve got the camera ready. Trust me; it¡¯s for science!¡±

    ¡°Now I feel even less assured. ¡®For science¡¯ is a very worrisome phrase, I have learned.¡±

    ¡°Feel no peer pressure; you only hurt me deeply if you refuse. I will recover in a year or two. An apprentice spurning her Master is a common theme.¡±

    ¡°Having that kind of power over you does put my mind at ease, Thank you. What am I supposed to refuse?¡±

    ¡°This.¡± He presented the white paper stick to her. ¡°We light the one end and breathe the smoke in on the other.¡±

    ¡°A herbal fire then? The medicinal herbs you bought are inside?¡±

    ¡°Wow, you got it so quickly. My, how you have matured, my student!¡±

    ¡°I am not sick; why would I need such herbs.¡±

    Ril spoke up. ¡°Convince Bron to part with his ale using that logic. I¡¯d like to see you try.¡±

    ¡°So these herbs intoxicate then?¡±

    ¡°Much better than intoxication, and best enjoyed with feasting and friends.¡±

    ¡°And fucking, Kel, you will not forget my fucking, do you hear!¡±

    Master spoke almost to himself. ¡°Now I just need to get her high enough so that she forgets. Fingers crossed.¡±

    ¡°What was that?¡± said Ril.

    ¡°Hmm, nothing dear. So are you in, Kay?¡±

    Either she would deeply regret this, or it would shatter her wildest expectations. Correction, the later was almost certainly true, but it did not negate the former. Regardless it was time she would spend with him; time she might never have had. Be it good or bad; it was precious.

    ¡°Very well, Master. I am trusting you.¡±

    ¡°Music to my ears. Ril, deploy the Cam Flies, we can¡¯t take any chances!¡±

    ¡°Got it, Boss.¡±

    It turned out to be the best non-birthday present she ever had. And there was video to prove it.