《No Rest for the Wicked》


 Prologue - No Rest

    Somewhere and somewhen.


    ¡°He did it.¡±  (???)


    The soft, angelic sounding voice echoes throughout the cavernous space.  It instantly causes the other voices, which before that point had been a constant bubbling of conversation, to come to a complete halt.  A pale aura of disbelief soon follows.


    ¡°What?!  How could he?  Our task was for him to kill a Fallen God!  On top of that without even a touch of divinity of his own!¡±  (???)


    Almost instantly the silence is broken by a great amount of consternation and bickering back and forth.  Voices raise one after another, as if trying to drown out the last due to the incredulousness of it all.  No one could believe it.


    ¡°He stole it from the Fallen God himself through trickery.  It was, quite simply, amazing.¡±  (???)


    The first voice speaks up again after what seems like several minutes, this time with a touch of awe in her voice.  The other unseen beings within the space fall silent again.  Several let out displeased ¡®tsks¡¯.  Others admit their admiration with ¡®oohs¡¯ and ¡®aaahs¡¯.


    It isn¡¯t every day that a mortal manages to trick a god, even a fallen one, into relinquishing the power that could then be used to kill ¡®em.  Gods, after all, are higher in status and power.  The main reason for that is their divinity.  The lifeblood of gods themselves.  A single drop can turn a farmer¡¯s boy into a Hero.


    ¡°Adrena, what should we do now?  He managed to complete the impossible task we set for him¡­¡±  (???)


    This time an older seeming, almost ragged voice calls out.  It was no doubt directed to the first voice, because simply saying her name causes the whole of the space to shudder.  The others all fall silent again and wait for the space to stabilize once more.


    ¡°Moe!  How many times have I told you all to call me Addy here?  This space is too delicate for the full force of my name.¡±  (Addy)


    This time the angelic girl¡¯s voice calls out, even as she appears within the space.  With golden hair and equally golden eyes, she looks every inch of a divine being.  Well, almost.  To put it bluntly, she looks like a six or seven year old girl.  One wearing a one-piece white dress that falls to her feet.


    However, there isn¡¯t anyone there who¡¯d dare to comment on the ¡®loli-goddess¡¯.  In fact, besides positives like ¡®beautiful¡¯, ¡®graceful¡¯, and ¡®cuteeee!¡¯, no one dares to mention her appearance at all.  The reason for that is simple.  Because Adrena is the Goddess of Fate.  And her anger can be a realllllllly bad thing, even to other gods.  She¡¯s also rather sensitive on that subject.


    ¡°Kaal, what was the agreement we signed this time?¡±  (Addy)


    This time an old man appears, with grey hair and a neatly trimmed grey beard.  Tall and gracefully built, he looks every bit of a professional with a ram-rod straight posture.  He also, for one reason or another, is wearing a very nice butler¡¯s uniform.  No one makes a mention of it though.  Kaal, at one point in time, was hailed as the King of the Gods.  And with very good reason.


    Then he had a bit of an accident.  He angered Addy by making demands upon her.  After several eons she got fed up with his constant belligerence and made him into her personal manservant.  The only god to force another god into direct submission.  Everyone, from the highest of the highs to the lowest of the gods know the story.  So besides getting a quiet laugh from behind Kaal¡¯s back, no one says it in public.  They dare not to.


    ¡°Adr¡­ Madam Addy, this time the agreement was about the chance for him to live a life without restrictions.  He called it a ¡®vacation¡¯.  Or as he put it: ¡®I¡¯ve been running around doing these fucking trials for 374 lifetimes!  I want one gods damned life off!¡¯.¡±  (Kaal)


    The other gods,whom have yet to reveal themselves, get a laugh out of that.  Especially because Kaal even went so far as to mimic the voice as well.  They could all just imagine the oozing, dripping angst the man had on his face when he made that demand.  Then again, they¡¯d all played with him at least once.  Most of them several times, throughout multiple lifetimes for the man.


    Lately he¡¯d gotten really good at completing the trails.  Too good, in fact.  Too fast and efficient.  Used to be he¡¯d slaughter half a world to complete one.  These days though he rarely causes any collateral damage.  In short, he¡¯s started to get a little boring.


    Of course, the fact that he also knows it causes quite a bit of pique with them.  The entire reason they throw him into these trails is because of their boredom.  Sure, for the most part they could do anything.  But even they have rules and laws that keep them from going overboard.  That, and they could lose large chunks of their power if they start doing things willy-nilly and end up killing their faithfuls.


    Letting a mortal do it for them is almost just as fun, and even more entertaining to watch.  Of course after a while all the ¡®natural¡¯ problems started to get fixed up, so they had to get creative in order to watch even more.  They started putting limits on the mortal, restrictions to his power and ability.  Or extra objectives for him.  Then they had to actively work on creating interesting things for him to do.


    In the end, the greatest challenge they could think of was to let him fight one of them.  Of course, they couldn¡¯t bring him here to do it, or go into the mortal worlds.  So instead they unsealed the Fallen God.  A really old, really powerful god that broke the rules and was thus banished from the heavens.


    It was supposed to be the ultimate challenge, one that¡¯d finally see the mortal fall and lose.  He occasionally had, during his first couple of dozen lifetimes, but afterwards he never once died.  In fact, it had only been a little over seven years since he was given this last trail.


    Seven years, to kill a god.  It was amazing, and yet at the same time really bothersome.  To a god, a mortal¡¯s lifespan is really short.  They come and go in the blink of an eye.  Some of their other trials required the man to find a way to prolong his life in order to complete his objective.  Cultivating until he¡¯s immortal.  Turning into an undead.  Hibernating in deep sleep that let him skip dozens of years at a time.


    But seven years is just too damned short!  How messed up is that?  Not even god-blessed Heroes could pull that off!


    Addy though lets out a little laugh before shaking her head, causing her golden hair to cascade across her thin shoulders.  There¡¯s even a hint of mirth in her golden eyes.  And a flash of something else, that¡¯s gone as quickly as it had appeared.


    ¡°Very well.  He did it.  He killed the Fallen God Vasi.  As such he gets the ¡®vacation¡¯ he desired.¡±  (Addy)


    The loli-goddesses decision is final, as far as the rest of them are concerned.  At the same time, she raises a hand and a dark sphere slowly forms, causing the entire space to shudder again from the heavy feeling of raw power that comes pouring into it.  All of them recognize what it is though.  Vasi¡¯s divinity.  His soul.


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    The mortal isn¡¯t able to do anything with it, so he didn¡¯t bother trying to take it for himself.  He¡¯d been told not to, in fact.  Otherwise he¡¯d just become possessed by the very being he¡¯d killed.


    ¡°Hello again, Vasi.  It¡¯s been a while.¡±  (Addy)


    ¡°Adre¡­ AAAAAH!!!¡±  (Vasi)


    The soul lets out an agonized scream as Addy squeezes her little fist around the sphere, causing the other gods to flinch.  They could all imagine just how painful that was.


    ¡°It¡¯s Addy, Vasi.  Do not speak my name so blatantly.¡±  (Addy)


    The heavy glare and thick ominus atmosphere Addy releases causes even Kaal to step back, his face going pale.  The soul in her hand however stays silent, no doubt nursing the wounds that¡¯d just appeared on his soul itself.  Without a physical body, he¡¯s very weak right now, and he knows it.


    ¡°Now that we got that out of the way, what¡¯d you think of the mortal we sent to kill you?¡±  (Addy)


    This time her tone had gone back to the happy voice she has almost every time she talks about the man.  After all, she was the one that had originally found him and arranged for all of this.  The trials were her idea, and the other gods just got to play and enjoy themselves with it.


    ¡°The kid, huh.  In a word, ¡®scary¡¯.  I couldn¡¯t see through him at all.  He even went so far as to trick me!  Then he cut me down as if I were an ant.  Totally embarrassing.¡±  (Vasi)


    This time the soul of the Fallen God cannot help but voice both his anger and his admiration.  Even as a fallen, the other gods wouldn¡¯t have dared to go at him toe-to-toe.  Yet the kid, the mortal had done so as if Vasi was nothing.


    ¡°Kid?  Ah, yeah.  It had only been about eight years since he started the trial.  He hadn¡¯t even grown up yet.¡±  (Addy)


    The other gods can only sigh, while Kaal stands behind Addy and shakes his head.  The mortal had to be crazy.  He completed the trial so damned fast!  As Vasi had put it, it was scary.


    ¡°Well, it doesn¡¯t matter now.  He did it, so he¡¯ll get his reward.  We should make his passing interesting~ though.  First we have to figure out where to put him.  And what to do afterwards.  Tsk.  Anyone have any ideas?¡±  (Addy)


    Soon afterwards the space is filled with the constant babble of conversation between the various gods.  A whole bunch of ideas are tossed out, but the vast majority of them are thrown aside.  Those that are agreed upon are noted down as they could be useful sooner or later.


    + | + | +


    Some time later, somewhere else.


    The earth was totally barren.  There wasn¡¯t a speck of life to be seen anywhere.  Even the sky was covered in grey overcast, turning the light dim and drab.  Within that wasteland is an old temple, which has been mostly destroyed and left in ruins.  The black stone of the temple is weathered and greatly cracked.


    Within that temple is a throne, set upon a raised dias.  The black stone throne is broken however, looking as if a massive sword had cleaved through its back, sundering it nearly in half.  Seated upon that broken throne is a boy.  A boy with white hair and grey eyes.  Grey, lifeless eyes that stare out at nothing.


    The boy is dressed in torn clothing of common make.  It¡¯s all cotton and itchy wool.  Well, it was.  At this point the clothes are basically falling apart.  They¡¯re stained, torn, and ripped.  Long strips of both the tunic and the pants have been torn from it in order to create a tied belt which holds up the trousers that are otherwise just shorts by now.  There¡¯s also a bit that has been used to tie up the boy¡¯s right hand, which is all but mangled and still bleeding.


    The cause of such an injury would be obvious if anyone could take a good look at it.  He¡¯d used his own hand to slice through the throne he¡¯s sitting on as if it were butter.  Not to mention the fallen god that had original sat there.


    That¡¯s right, this seemingly beggar boy is the one who threw the heavens into such disarray.  Looking between seven and eight years old, he¡¯s all skin and bones, as if he hadn¡¯t eaten anything in days.  In truth, he hasn¡¯t.  He¡¯s been waiting.  Waiting for the end of all of this.


    Suddenly, his head comes up, and there¡¯s a slight, almost childish smile on his dirt-smeared face.


    ¡°Finally.  It¡¯s been nearly two weeks.  Kaal, right?¡±  (Kid)


    The kid¡¯s voice is still high pitched and squeaky, and yet the tone he used is totally irrelevant.  After so much time spent around the gods, he no longer carries any sort of worship or idolization for them.  After all this time, he just knows that he¡¯s a toy for them.


    ¡°You¡¯ve gotten quite good at noticing our presence, haven¡¯t you?  Well, no matter.  You slew the Fallen God Vasi, so Addy has decided to grant your request.  You¡¯re getting the free lifetime you desired.¡±  (Kaal)


    Of course, as a god Kaal really isn¡¯t there.  None of the gods are able to manifest personally in the mortal worlds.  Instead, the kid just picked up on the divine presence that signified that Kaal was watching personally.


    ¡°Good to know.  Tell Addy I said ¡®hi¡¯, but please don¡¯t come looking for me until my vacation life is over with.  All this running around has worn me out.¡±  (Kid)


    ¡°Heh.  I¡¯ll be sure to pass the message on.  Now then, off you go¡­ But before that, you should look up.¡±  (Kaal)


    For some reason the kid didn¡¯t find the gods amused tone to be anything good.  Still, he glances up, through the broken roof of the old temple.  It takes him a moment to spot what¡¯s happening, but when he does all he can do is let out a sigh.


    ¡°A meteor, really?  At least leave an intact body for this one¡¯s ¡®family¡¯.¡±  (Kid)


    The boy cannot help but grumble in dissatisfaction even as the flaming ball of rock hurtles straight toward him.  It isn¡¯t the worst ending he¡¯s ever had, nor is it the best.  However, it isn¡¯t exactly original, either.  Still, he cannot help but quirk a smile onto his lips.


    ¡°Goodbye, another life.¡±  (Kid)


    Sometime later a high ranked adventurer group will find the blasted remains of the temple, as well as the surprisingly intact body of the kid.  As the news spread, the kid was heralded as the ¡®Flaming Hero¡¯ who gave his own life to destroy the Fallen God who¡¯d awakened on their world.  In truth, it¡¯s just one of the many titles he¡¯d come to be known across across the hundreds of worlds he¡¯d been born on.  The vast majority had been given to him posthumously.


    It¡¯s kind of amazing just how discontent a person can get from dying after the completion of every object.  For the most part though that is part of the entertainment, at least for the gods.  Except for Addy, who knows exactly what is going on in her chosen¡¯s mind.  Still, there are some things even the gods cannot foretell.


    Which is why there is No Rest for the Wicked.

 Chapter 1 - Reverse Reincarnation

    The sun was slowly rising over the horizon, casting its golden glow across the land.  Or rather, it would have, if a thick blanket of damp fog hadn¡¯t obscured it.  Then again, that¡¯s a common occurrence within the mountain valley.  If you could consider three hills and a depression to be a mountain valley.


    Still, even though the sun had just risen, it doesn¡¯t mean that everything is silent and peaceful.  Far from it, actually.  Situated within the area surprisingly enough called Ark Valley, two dozen log cabins are spaced evenly along the two sides of a flat area comprised of smooth concrete.  Upon that concrete slab are nearly a hundred and twenty kids ranging from the ages of twelve to eighteen.


    Each of these brats are holding a wooden sword, swinging it downward from over their heads to just above the navel, only to pull it back up again.  Each downward motion comes with its own ¡®Aaah!¡¯ Of effort, before it repeats in an endless cycle that cuts through the cool morning air and the damp mist.  The fact that every kid is standing in twelve rows of ten each only adds to the classic dojo-like feel of the place.


    Or rather it would, if it wasn¡¯t for the large concrete and glass building at the front end of the training ground.  A very modern school building that looks totally out of place in the otherwise idyllic setting.  Or the mixed-and-matched attire of the kids, which range from shorts to t-shirts to skin-tight exercise clothes.  In both the male and female variety.


    While the vast majority of the kids are going through the various stances under the watchful glaring eyes of various older instructors, out in front is a brightly marked circular sparring ring.  Within that ring is an old man wearing a martial arts style robe that¡¯s tightly sashed across his stomach.  Across from the old man is a fifteen-sixteen year old youth.


    That youth is me.  And this has been my morning routine all summer long.  Just like always I¡¯m wearing a pair of cargo shorts and a tank top that leave my arms bare.  In my hands is another one of those wooden swords.  Except mine is longer and heavier than usual, looking almost like a baton than a sword.  The reason for that is the heavy foam padding that had been glued onto that.


    Now, you might be wondering why I¡¯m up front and center, facing a guy with at least a dozen years of experience on me, right?  The answer to that is simple.  He¡¯s the only one who cares to face me.


    You see, this place called the Ark Valley Summer School is a mixed martial arts training school.  It¡¯s in the middle of nowhere in eastern Tennessee, USA.  In a way, it is a dojo in all but name.  It¡¯s also used as a summer school for misfit youths.  Or troublemakers and juvenile delinquents.


    I, however, am none of those things.  I¡¯m here because I wanted to be.  I thought it would be fun to see just what the place had to offer.  Sadly, while the instruction was quite nice, the overall level was¡­ well, let¡¯s just say it was weaker than I had expected.  Then again, I thought the same thing about the JROTC camp I went to last summer.


    So after having sparring matches with each of the instructors over the last few weeks, the only guy who¡¯d dare to take me on is the old man in front of me.  I mean that quite literally, by the way.  I knocked the bugo helmet off the Kendo instructor, and disarmed the Iaido instructor.  I even wrestled the Judo instructor and tossed him out of the ring.


    The old man though is a whole different breed.  He¡¯s a decently skilled practitioner of Chinese Kenpo, which is more to say he practices a wide range of different martial arts.  He¡¯s actually fairly skilled at moving from one to another in a fluid way.  Which is a far cry from the others who¡¯ve only studied a single type.


    The old man, also known as Instructor Tai, is also the Principle of this place.  He¡¯s also the one who¡¯s suffered the most.  Yet he still comes back for more, like a true battle junky.


    Now then, the reason why my practice sword had been padded is because even with the blunt blade, I still tend to leave injuries.  The Iaido instructor, Mr. Klent, still has his wrist in a brace from our last bout.  At least he was good natured about it, and said it gave him the chance to practice with his off-hand.


    The few students who sparred with me when the summer first started weren¡¯t so lucky.  Which is why I¡¯ve only been allowed to spar with the instructors since then.  Not that I¡¯m complaining.  It¡¯s actually quite enjoyable to be pitted with someone with some skill.  The others are just a bore, to be honest.


    ¡°Ready!  Fight!¡± (Instructor #1)


    Another instructor is watching our spar as a referee, and at his words I quickly settle into a stance.  My left leg is forward half a step, with my foot turned inward.  My right leg is partially bent, while the heel is raised about a quarter of an inch off the ground.  I hold my training sword upward and to the left, instead of over my head.


    Instructor Tai though doesn¡¯t settle into any one stance.  Instead, he¡¯s bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet before making a rush right at me.  This causes the wide sleeves of his robe to flutter in the wind, interrupting my line of sight of his hands.  It¡¯s a common tactic that makes me narrow my eyes as I focus on him.  The baggy clothing keeps me from focusing on where his arms and hands are, so I have to rely on watching his center of gravity and his shoulders to estimate where his attack will come from.


    The first one comes from my right as he appears right in front of me, with his center of gravity low to the ground in order to give him extra balance.  I don¡¯t even bother to blink as I move my sword to intercept his sword-hand as it slashes out toward me.  The block works, and I manage to deflect the blow downward and to the side.  However his other hand comes up with a knuckle-punch toward my stomach.


    My right leg slides to the lift, giving me a half-spin as I let go of my sword with my left hand, catching the punch with my palm.  I feel a tingle go up my wrist from the force of it, but Instructor Tai takes two quick steps back and pulls some distance between us.  From that it¡¯s my turn as I lead with my left leg and step toward him while twisting my sword around in a stabbing blow for his chest.


    It¡¯s in this manner that we fight back and forth across the circular ring.  After the first few minutes the other students are given the chance to rest and watch, while the instructors do the same while chatting about it.  About halfway through Instructor Tai manages to disarm me, but just like him I quickly move to using my arms and my legs to fight back as we flash close enough to touch each others bodies while trading blows with my hands, wrists, elbows, knees and legs.


    It¡¯s like this almost every time, cause the old man refuses to stick with a single style of combat.  I cannot say it doesn¡¯t excite me though, given I tend to be the same way.  Weapons have their place, but it just feels so much better to use my own body to fight with.  I¡¯ve always been that way.


    Still, it does eventually come to an end.  In this case that comes about cause I manage to grab his arm when he throws out a punch for my chest, and I twist my waist while jerking him forward, only to give him a nearly picture-perfect judo throw that tosses him out of the ring and onto his ass.  No one is surprised, although the other students do go up in cheers.  The other instructors just grin to themselves wryly.


    It isn¡¯t every day that a sixteen year old can toss a well-known martial artist around as if he were a sandbag after all.  The fact that they¡¯ve all experienced it doesn¡¯t help matters.  Sadly, at least for me, it¡¯s coming to an end today.


    ¡°Oi.  Kyle, couldn¡¯t you go easier on an old man like me?¡±  (Instructor Tai)


    The old man complains every time, but I just shake it off as I do a set of stretches before rubbing my arms.  They¡¯re partially numb after all the exertion and blocks I did with them.  I come away from these bouts with bruises of my own, so I cannot claim it isn¡¯t entirely painless for me.


    ¡°Hah.  And give up my last chance to toss you around, old man?  Not likely.¡±  (Kyle)


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I keep my reply snippy, and even throw in a smirk for good measure as the crowd around us gets a good laugh.  Many of them are not innately bad kids, they just come from bad circumstances.  So a place like this is generally hell for them until they get used to it.  And unlike me, they have to suffer through another four weeks of it before the summer ends.


    ¡°Yeah yeah.  I have to say though, you¡¯re a complete monster, brat.  Now come help this old man up.¡±  (Instructor Tai)


    I chuckle to myself as I move toward him, reaching down to grab his outstretched arm.  Then in the next moment I twist my hips again, and this time sling him over my back even as his other hand snapped up to grab me by the shoulder.  Hah!  He actually thought he pull a fast one on me.


    The fact that he lands face-first onto the ground causes several gasps, and even more laughter.  Even the other instructors get a snicker out of it, which they hide quickly as the old man comes up red in the face and flustered.  I just turn around and arch a brow at him.


    ¡°Ugh!  Fine!  You got me, brat.  I just wanted to see you eat the dirt at least once before you left.¡±  (Instructor Tai)


    At least the old man is honest about it, even though he seems to want to spew bile and fire.  After a few moments though the old man calms down and blows out a breath, dusting himself off before rubbing his face.  I didn¡¯t throw him hard enough to leave anything besides a few scratches on him though.


    The training here at least did one good thing for me, and that is with the control of my strength.  I know longer break the swords and other training weapons, nor bones.  My only lament is how fragile everyone else is though.  Even with Instructor Tai, I don¡¯t get the chance to get a good workout.


    Then again, no one can have everything, right?


    Still, I straighten up and given him a proper cupped fist and a bow, which he quickly returns as a salute.  Neither of us have to say anything, cause we can each see the unease in each other''s eyes.  Especially for Instructor Tai, who is a battle maniac.  I do believe that he was born in the wrong time period here.


    ¡°Come on, Kyle.  I have something to give you before you leave.¡±  (Instructor Tai)


    I just nod and follow after him, while behind the other instructors start to holler like drill sergeants putting the rest of the students back into place.  They¡¯ll continue to practice like this until 8 A.M. sharp, when they¡¯ll break out for breakfast and their first classes.  After lunch at noon they¡¯ll go back for physical training, then have another set of classes and a final round of practice and sparring this evening before dinner then bed.


    Even though I was exempt because of the fact I was a volunteer student here, I still followed through with most of the regime.  The only main difference was the fact that all of my classes were online instead of the standard middle school and high school fare.  That kind of happens when you aren¡¯t even in high school to begin with.


    Instructor Tai quickly leads me into his office within the school building, but doesn¡¯t invite me to sit down.  Instead, he moves behind his desk and pulls out a key which he uses to unlock one of the drawers.  From it he pulls out a rather nice mahogany wood box.  He looks at it with a slight smile before placing it on the front of his desk.


    ¡°Go ahead kid.  Take a look.¡±  (Instructor Tai)


    He doesn¡¯t have to tell me twice as I step forward and then unlatch the box, opening it up.  Inside of it I see an engraved pin resting in the red satin cushions.  The pin is a flat oval, probably made out of aluminum or the like, and yet it has a glossy coating.  Two red letters are also set into it, A.V.  Only after a moment do I recognize what it is.


    I¡¯ve seen the exact same pins on the various uniforms of the other instructors.  Outside of the letters, there aren¡¯t any other artistic designs.  Just plain simplicity.


    ¡°These are usually given only to the Instructors, but occasionally we get a good student that we pass one onto as well at the end of their stay.  Just a little honorary thing.¡±  (Instructor Tai)


    He almost seems a bit embarrassed, but I chuckle and take it out of the box, holding it in my hand.  It is surprisingly heavy, so what I thought was aluminum turns out to be something like stainless steel or chromium.  Probably the former, instead of the latter.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be a good reminder of my time here.  Thank you, Instructor Tai.¡±  (Kyle)


    I speak simply, but I actually feel myself smiling as I set the pin back into the box and clasp it shut again.   The old man is starting to get misty eyed, and I cannot help but let out a breath.  My time here had been fun, which is the best I can say.


    The rest of my life is already calling, so there¡¯s no helping it.  Still, the old man cannot help but shake his head before sighing.


    ¡°Such a waste too.  With your latent you would have rocked the world of martial arts in only a few years.  Your family business though¡­¡±  (Instructor Tai)


    The old man just had to bring it which, causing me to flinch a little.  I end up waving it off though.  There¡¯s no use for trying to get out of it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, old man.  Also, thanks for not drawing attention to my name.  It¡¯s bad enough elsewhere.  This was supposed to be my vacation.¡±  (Kyle)


    I cannot help but give a wry grin as I imagine what returning to the outside world is going to be like.  It is not something I¡¯m looking forward to.  Still, there¡¯s no helping it.  None of us control who or where be are born to, right?


    I end up saying a few more words to the instructor before I take my leave.  I return to my cabin alone, where I¡¯d spent the last four weeks with a roommate.  My stuff is already packed though, all neatly stored in a single camping duffle bag.  I store the box with my Ark Valley momento in it before slinging it over my shoulder.


    From there, I get to walk to the exit myself.  Along the way I watch the other students go about their practice, while every now and again I wave back to the instructors that spot me.  Out here in the middle of nowhere, the air is crisp and clean, and I take deep breaths as I store my memories of this place as deeply into my mind as I can.


    All good things come to an end though, and the same is said for my stay here.  Soon enough I hit the gravel path that leads toward the only nearby road, which is beyond the Ark Valley School gate.  There¡¯s only a handful of parking spaces there, but as I near I can see a vehicle taking space of several of them.


    I cannot help but roll my eyes.  Of course they had to send a limo.  Probably my dad¡¯s idea.


    As I neared a neatly dressed man comes out and bows in my direction before moving to open the rear door.  I don¡¯t recognize him, so he must be from a local company.  Not that it matters.  No one would dare say no anyway.


    ¡°Young Master Blaze, if you would.  Your flight leaves in four hours from Nashville International Airport.¡±  (Driver)


    Okay, so I cannot completely hide the flinch, but I manage to conceal the grimace on my face as I nod and thank the driver.  Slipping into the limo and onto the rear leather seat, I sigh as I toss the bag onto the seat across from me.  It¡¯s time to go home.


    Or rather, this life¡¯s home.  Kyle Blaze, the prodigal son of Blaze Industries International, Inc.  Also known as BI3.  Ugh.  I can feel the headache starting already.


    You see, this was supposed to be my vacation life.  I just didn¡¯t expect to be reincarnated into a world where people dream of being reincarnated into others.  And I especially didn¡¯t expect to be born into a family such as mine.


    I¡¯m pretty sure people would call this ¡®Reverse Reincarnation¡¯, which is basically the only amusing thing I can think of about my situation.  I guess I better consider this a working vacation.  At least those pesky gods are nowhere to be found.  Which I am very thankful for.