《Don't Burst My Bubble》


 Chapter 1 – Dont call me Bubbles

    Authors Corner


    (Edited)


    To those of you out there who think my writing, characters, plot, background or face are terrible...you''re not alone. I agree with you.


    But when you don''t comment, you miss the opportunity for you and me to trade notes and have a laugh together.


    Life is full of missed opportunities, but this one is too good to pass up.


    Jokes aside, if you have criticisms or maybe just don''t like the genre, feel free to say it in the comments section below, or in any of the following chapters.


    I read every comment.


    Sincerely,


    Triter.


    <hr />


    ---


    Solitude & Solace


    Part 1


    ---


    Chapter 1 ¨C Don''t call me Bubbles


    A man in a forest


    I''m sitting here in a new world and I''m in despair.


    A part of my life has been redacted, I know this because I can''t really remember who I am.


    I can barely remember my conversation with whatever being put me here. It more or less went something like this.


    Me: I want to be amazing!


    Being: *Laughter*


    And here I am. The Bastard. He didn''t even properly respond.


    Although a chunk of my memories are gone, I clearly remember wanting to be a wizard, as it was my only dream. Flinging magic from the rooftops, exploring mystical lands and building a really amazing wizards tower, the crookedly ominous kind. It''s truly a mans romance.


    I was obsessed with wizardly endeavors in my last ... life? world? Bah, whatever. I remember being so excited at my chance to become a wizard, that in front of that all powerful being it''s understandable I said something stupid. It was literally a chance of a lifetime, and a high pressure situation. Who wouldn''t screw that up? I didn''t even say anything that crazy, ''I want to be amazing'' should be a pretty decent request in the first place.


    Instead, what I got wasn''t magic at all. That bastard omniscient being left my desire to be a wizard as one of the remaining memories in my mind, just to taunt me I''m sure. I barely want to call that being a deity, but bastard god has such a nice ring to it. Bastard god.


    ...


    What was that!?!? Wow, that''s scary, was that rustling nearby? Is that being watching me? I feel like pointing some rude gestures skywards. I won''t though because I''m not a crazy person. Okay, that was a lie, I''m furiously throwing gestures out right now.


    Back to my current situation though, I''m in despair. Despite asking to be amazing, and despite desiring to be a wizard from deep in my soul, what I received is terrible. How do I know? I''m trying it right now, it really has no discernible use.


    It looks like my power is a bubble.


    Don''t laugh, it hurts too much. This is a wound to my very soul.


    It makes me want to cry, but I don''t feel anything like mana, and thus I''m almost certain that this isn''t magic I''m doing. It''s just so pathetic. To activate it at first I just thought ''Come my Power!'' embarrassingly, thinking I was in for a spectacular show. Then this bubble showed up. It''s not a cool mana bubble shield thing, you can easily swing your hand through it. It just sort of looks like a mirage in the air. What combat use does this have? None.


    I play with it some more. It looks like I can change the size, sort of? It seems I can make more than one. That''s cool I guess, but it has the kind of feeling of multiplying by zero. Whatever size it is, however many I can make, garbage is garbage.


    I want go home.


    ---


    A nearby Wolf''s perspective (roughly translated from Wolfen)


    I came across a human.


    It shouldn''t be here, I didn''t smell it come. Why is it here? Are there more?


    I decide to watch this human and wait. My pack is not far and I can call them in case of trouble, but I don''t want to share.


    There shouldn''t be humans here, at least not if we didn''t smell them come in.


    This is our forest. They don''t belong.


    What is that human doing now? It''s making so much noise, and flailing it''s arms.


    Seems like a trap.


    Humans have strange packs, I can''t understand it. They hunt by themselves sometimes, but most of the time they rely on unnatural fangs made of rocks and trees.


    This one has no fangs and no hard coat like the others, I can almost taste it it looks so easy to kill.


    I''m impatient, so when it stops and stupidly looks at the sky, I get ready to make my move.


    ¡­


    It must have heard me, how? Humans have dull ears. Is this one an alpha?


    Now it''s thrashing at the sky. Truly bizarre. Maybe it''s sick?


    I feel anger rise, I have wasted time I could have been hunting on this sick human. It probably has bad meat.


    I know that''s not true because I can smell it, and the meat smells delicious.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Oh, now the human is ¡­ is that human bringing That from Within? There are strange things in the air which feel like That. The pack leader told us never to mimic humans that do this because it makes us become like the Dark Ones. The Packless.


    The pack leader also said that the humans that can do this taste the best and that we must absolutely bring their flesh to him.


    I don''t care now if this human is mad, sick or stupid. I don''t care if this is a trap. I don''t want to share.


    I have waited long enough.


    Time to eat.


    ---


    A man in a forest, once again.


    AHHHGHGHHhhhhhh!


    Phew, where did that wolf come from? I can only think it must have been sent by that bastard, we''re in the middle of nowhere, so I can''t see a reason for a wolf to be hanging out. I don''t even seen any other animals.


    It chased me for what felt like forever. The sun is lower in the sky. Well I''m not sure if the bright star above me is even the sun, but for the time being I''ll go with it.


    I think I''m near the edge of this forest now, because the trees have started to thin.


    Was that wolf just helping me out? What a nice guy.


    Or not, I mean of course a wolf isn''t guiding me out of the forest. It looked pretty pissed for some reason. It sounds ridiculous but I feel as though it had a grudge against me. It doesn''t make sense, but it''s what I felt.


    The shocking thing I''m just now realizing is that I was able to outrun the wolf. I''m not even sweating.


    Scary.


    I don''t feel like I was a particularly fit individual in my previous life. I probably tended more towards a downright slob if I take into account my general apathy right now.


    How was I able to run then? I have a hunch, but let''s do an experiment, I see a nice rock right over there.


    I''m able to easily lift it, this rock which is the size of my head. With one hand. It feels like a pebble.


    That settles it, that bastard is seriously screwing with me. I don''t want to be a bodybuilder. This is too much power for a wizard. Isn''t it a guarantee that since my body is like this, my magical aptitude or whatever it''s called is likely to be zero?


    My dream was to be studying serenely in my wonderful wizard tower day after day. I can feel this dream fading away at this very moment.


    I''ll be surrounded by muscle brained idiots in a sweaty tavern the rest of my life, I can see it now.


    Perhaps my strength isn''t that absurd though. I can only hope. In a world with magic, it would make sense that warriors had at least this amount of strength. How else would the strongest of them slay dragons? If they exist, both warriors or dragons, that is.


    Anyways, now that Mr. Wolf was so kind as to show me the exit, I''ll make my way towards civilization, I see some smoke sun-wards, or West as it would be called if this was Earth. It might well be Earth for all I know, although I''ve never seen a wolf 2m tall before, nor have I seen a mottled brown-gray robe with shifting colors, such as the one I''m currently wearing.


    That brief run-in with the wolf was exactly what I needed to make me relax a bit, up until this moment I feel like I''ve been in shock. Who wouldn''t be after they got plopped into a different world? The trees looked a lot different with their purple leaves, the sky is a bit too teal, and the sun looks like it''s pulsing. Things were overwhelmingly strange when I showed up.


    That wolf, aside from it''s size, was normal looking though. It''s nice to see a familiar face, even if that face is frothing, mad and trying to eat you.


    Most importantly, after that run-in I now know I''m in okay shape in this world. A wild animal that would have easily killed me on Earth wasn''t able to even make me lose my breath.


    This gives me a lot of hope for the future. I feel like now, somehow, if I''m somewhat careful and don''t get too ahead of myself, I might be able to survive in this wild new world I''ve been thrown into.


    So I''m going to set out now. My only motivation to continue on, despite my fears and general confusion, is to think of this as an adventure, the end of which I can''t even guess at, good or bad. These steps towards civilization with my phenomenal body and awful bubble powers might be the start of a life that I don''t mind living, one that is at least one way or another better than the past.


    Now that I''ve sorted out my feelings a bit, I just need to think of a name. I don''t have my old one. That bastard snatched it away along with other things I have a vague feeling would have been useful. So what should it be? John? No. Tim? Pass. Fred? Boring. Zeke...? Freakish.


    It can wait, I suppose. I don''t have to come up with one right at this moment. I don''t want anything flashy that will stand out, so perhaps I should just wait until I meet other people and get a feeling for a good one.


    I just pray someone else doesn''t name me. Not praying to that bastard of course, because what I fear will certainly come to pass. I''m praying to some god up above of a less vicious variety.


    Please, please, please; I''m praying thrice, don''t call me Bubbles.


    ---

 Chapter 2 – I shouldnt clam up here.

    Authors Corner


    Someone once said to me that basic writing is best. No overly descriptive paragraphs. I think my writing is pretty basic, maybe even too basic, I can''t be sure. I do know that I don''t want dense writing that takes forever to read. So I''m trying to peel back the layers of this story bit by bit.


    If that wasn''t already stretching my limited abilities, I''m also trying to make a real character. Flaws, flaws, more flaws, a relatable irrationality and maybe a drop of virtue. Hopefully that blend paints the picture I''ve imagined.


    Let me know how it is. I know last chapter I said be gentle, but I''ve changed my mind. I''d love some comments, especially ones telling me how terribly I''m doing things, because maybe I can use those comments to grow.


    <hr />


    Chapter 2 ¨C I shouldn''t clam up here.


    A man on a lightly forested ridge


    I''m pretty sure I was an average salary-man in the existence before this, I get that sort of feeling at least. I can''t tell when looking at my hands or feet whether I''ve changed. I can''t remember what I looked like. Was I young? Was I old? Tall? Short? I can''t even remember what looks normal. That bastard god was strangely thorough about the mundane details.


    So although I don''t really know for sure, I''m guessing that with my maxed out body specs that I might just look like an ancient Greek hero. It''s softly defined, but I have an eight pack. I''m guessing that''s eight more packs than I had before. These new muscles look soft but strong. I want it to be impressive, because it really feels like it should be, but this vagueness in my memory ruins it. I can''t solidly compare myself to any modern human, because I can''t think of a specific human to compare myself too. I just get vague notions of how things should and shouldn''t be.


    Anything further than that and I run into a hole in my Swiss cheese memory. I don''t even know if I''m Swiss.


    Even with this amazing body, I am getting tired. Mentally at least. My muscles are telling me that this marathon of a hike I''ve been on hasn''t been more than a stroll. It should be obvious, but my muscles are lying. It hurts my head to even think about how far I''ve traveled since I arrived this morning. It''s mentally straining and only made worse by the rapidly deteriorating light.


    I can tell you''re embarrassed from your bright red demeanor, but Ms. Sun, please stop trying to hide behind the horizon. I thought we were friends, there''s no need to be bashful. If you go I''ll be all alone out here.


    The dark is scary.


    I''ll have to sleep eventually, but I lost that smoke signal a long while back. It was there one minute and gone the next. There is nowhere safe around here, now that it''s getting dark there are unfriendly sounds coming every direction. I don''t think I''ll be able to rest at all in these conditions. Damnit.


    I''m especially bitter at the moment because magic would come in handy right now. Fire magic. The kind I''ve always wanted. I could set ablaze a nice log and be more at ease as I rest my weary head. Well... just one log wouldn''t do, I think I''d set a good chunk of forest ablaze around me just to be sure no animal got any hungry ideas.


    Wait, don''t I sound like a fire-starter right now? I can see the headlines now, Rogue Fire Wizard Causes Mass Extinction With Forest Fire.


    Is it odd that I''d be proud of that title? Thinking that I would be called a fire wizard almost makes me drool. I want magic that badly. Just this once I''ll admit it''s probably good for the local animal populations that I don''t have magic at the moment.


    Back to my predicament though; If I''m being frank, I don''t know where to go.


    I think I might be going in circles because everything looks the same. I keep walking up these eerily even ridges. It takes a while because they are so high that they are practically hills. The last few have felt a bit smaller though.


    I went up a ridge for the first time trying to get a better view of the smoke that I had saw in the distance, but by the time I had gotten up there, the smoke was gone. Twenty ridges later and I feel like I''ve accomplished nothing. I haven''t even gotten more lost, because I have no idea where I was in the first place.


    I''ll be the first to confess that my optimism has waned after my run-in with that oversized dog. I''m fairly confident that I can win in a fight against an animal or two, but I''m not equipped to deal with the emotional stress of never seeing a human again in my life.


    It''s too much to ask for, I don''t even know who I am.


    I''m feeling more lonely out here by the second.


    I had originally planned to wait to choose a name until I found people, but I feel like I''m losing myself. Wait that''s not right, I don''t have a sense of self in the first place.


    I''m getting shivers thinking about it. This is dangerous ground, mentally.


    I''ll just pick one.


    Hmm...


    Wilson.


    I''ll go with Wilson.


    I have a strong feeling that the name is ironic, but I can''t put my finger on it. Did I know a Wilson in my past?


    Oh well, it doesn''t matter anyways.


    For I am Wilson, Conqueror of Ridges.


    Ah, there''s the next one. Off I go.


    ---


    Wilson (Conqueror of Ridges)


    Near a large body of water


    It was nighttime so it took me a while, but I found something other than trees. They are spread pretty thin and I don''t see or hear any animals in the vicinity. It''s just me out here, poking around. I''m basically a veteran ridge explorer at this point.


    A few ridges ago I was groggily looking for anything other than trees and more ridges. I had almost given up, and was seriously considering punching a stupid tree when I saw the following:


    Tree. Tree. Tree. Ridge. Tree. Tree. Tree. Tree. Tree. Tree. Tree. ¡­.. Tree............


    W-water!?


    I was so excited that I took off over a few more ridges in a sprint. Most of the aforementioned trees were left in splinters in my wake. Not because I sprinted right through them or anything cool like that. I just punched them all wildly as I went by. Don''t blame me, I was in a joyous frenzy and had a grudge to settle.


    Ahem.


    So here I am standing in pinkish sand. I finally made it down the last ridge with some purplish sawdust in my wake and now I''m beside an ocean. I can tell it''s an ocean because I prudently tested the water with my tongue.


    Sorry, that''s a lie.


    I ran into it and started gulping it down quickly, only to instantly bring it back up. It tasted disgusting. Definitely salty though.


    Bleh.


    I know I''m not what people would call smart, or at least I wasn''t before I came here. Actually, if anyone asks I''ll forcibly admit that I''m pretty stupid. Right now, I''m a buff maniac who runs around thrashing trees. When I put it like that, it''s sounding less and less like I''ll become a wizard, I know. If I were to look up my current stats and traits in any RPG, they would say Berserker every time. It''s probably what I''m best suited for, excluding the useless bubbles.


    That''s not how dreams work though. It''s a dream of mine because of how I am..err... was. Ugh.


    I''m losing myself again. I really shouldn''t.


    I am the wonderful Wilson, conqueror of ridges and trees.


    Ah. After repeating that a couple times I''m doing better already.


    The moonlight sure helps. There are two moons floating around above me, there must have been clouds blocking their light up until now. I don''t know really how orbits work, but they are circling each other as they move through the sky. Maybe it''s magic, maybe it''s physics, but who cares? It is an amazing sight.


    I''m enjoying myself in the moment, when someone rudely slaps me from behind.


    Ow.


    The slap only succeeds in jerking my head forward, so I turn to see an enormous walrus angrily barking at me. Where did this fellow come from?


    Shoo, go back from where you came. You don''t even look or act like a proper walrus. Your tusks are comically long and I''ve never seen one that looks like it weighs more than an elephant or two like you do. Not to mention you are far too sneaky for your girth.


    It''s barking again.


    No, it really doesn''t matter what you''re trying to say, I don''t speak walrus.


    Either I''m too busy gesturing to it to take off or it''s just that angry, but I can barely see it move as it''s flipper comes forward and slaps me again.


    I fly back a few feet this time and land in the surprisingly soft sand. This sassy sea monster packs a mean slap.


    I''m not really hurt, just a bit sore. Hurting animals really isn''t my thing so I think I can let it go as long as it goes away. Well, those were my thoughts until I see the beautiful beard it''s sporting. Not a mustache, a full grown, long and flowing white beard. I knew it wasn''t a proper walrus. This walrus is clearly mocking me.


    Now I''m mad. It''s immature and makes no sense, sure, but that walrus with that beautiful beard is further along the path of being a proper wizard than I am. One beards-width further.


    That''s a good enough reason to punch it, right?


    Well it might not be, but since I''ve been busy thinking, the jerk is current trying to impale my arm with it''s tusks.


    I''d be far more concerned currently if it could hit. Now that I''m paying half attention, it isn''t too hard to dodge these walrus lunges. This body of mine is frightening. I get that feeling like it''s frightening. I''m starting to hope I''m not the baseline warrior in this world, if only for my sanity.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Since he was the one to start it, I think it''s fine if I punch him.


    I''ll do it lightly and maybe he''ll flop off home.


    I step into range and put a little power into a swing and it connects right in the walrus''s stomach.


    Then it keeps going through. Then it hits another layer inside and I can''t get my arm back.


    I''m stuck.


    The walrus must be pleased as it starts barking happily. Normally if an object pierced into your body as far as my arm has, I wouldn''t imagine it would be pleasant. In this case, however, the size difference makes it a moot point.


    It must be a strategy for the creature I now know as a fake-walrus. A predator gets stuck trying to bite or claw you then you just squish them with your fat.


    I''ve guessed this because the silly monster is currently oozing towards me, it''s seriously aiming to kill me.


    I''m stuck. I can''t move, I''m trying to pull my arm out but I can''t get a good grip on the soft sand now that the walrus is moving, me along with it.


    I''ve really screwed up.


    I''ve been acting really stupid today. First that fake wolf, now this fake walrus have been trying to legitimately kill me and I''ve playing around. I knew I should be more cautious, but my situation is honestly more than I can deal with. I swear if I get through this I''ll clown around less.


    I guess it doesn''t matter though. There is nothing left for me to do, because I''m about to die. The walrus has now completely smothered me with it''s body.


    Rest in peace Wilson. It has been nice sightseeing for a day.


    ¡­


    ¡­..


    ¡­....Or not.


    I''m starting to feel considerable pain lying here underneath several tons of walrus, arm still inside it. I''m not paste though, and it doesn''t seem like it can completely crush me. I guess I''ll die from asphyxiation instead. I can''t even move my head to get a breath. It smells like walrus. I hold my breath and wait for the end once again.


    ...Or not.


    I almost want to thank that bastard god for this body. I won''t though. It must have been a few minutes already, but I don''t really have any urges to breath. I guess I don''t need air, which is a discovery I''d be elated about if I wasn''t lounging under a sweaty walrus.


    What is this stupid walrus doing? If I had to guess, I''d say it''s gloating. Maybe even stroking it''s beard in glee.


    Ah. Maybe it heard me, it''s shifting back off the ground.


    It must be confused because it''s tilting it''s head around to get a look at what should be my remains.


    I''m waiting motionless. I have a plan.


    I know now that I have to use everything I can to kill this thing otherwise it might find a way to end me. I can imagine it flopping me down back on the harder ground instead of the sand and becoming Wilson-paste.


    I can''t risk it dodging my punch so I came up with a tiny bit of insurance. It will probably not work, but I don''t really have a choice.


    It''s head gets closer to sniff me. I''m getting a bit distracted by it''s beard but I''m holding still.


    It''s face is almost on top of me.


    Close enough.


    I use an otherwise useless bubble to cover its head and distract it as I simultaneously throw a punch right at it''s skull with everything I have. As soon as I used the bubble the walrus froze, so the distraction was definitely a success. As to the result, I''ll say that if it''s head were a tree, there would be sawdust in the air right now. Since it''s not a tree, the result is far more morbid.


    Bits of walrus cover the beach.


    At this point I finally free myself gruesomely before I get crushed by the corpse, but once I make it a ways away I notice that I can barely stand.


    I''m emotionally and mentally drained, so I don''t want to admit that the not-magic bubble power came in handy, it''s more than I can bear. On top of this, my body hurts solidly throughout and thus has finally decided to call it a day.


    I''d like to say I was graceful about finding shelter, but instead I dropped to the warm sand and buried myself. Not needing to breath means I don''t need to sleep uncovered. That was the genius idea that went through my brain before passing out.


    I''m surprised I survived the night.


    ---


    Wilson, ocean-side. Morning.


    I woke up feeling refreshed.


    Well I was refreshed after screaming and confusedly escaping from a sand coffin of my own creation.


    What can I say, I''m not usually a morning person.


    This morning, however, is beautiful, the air is fresh, and I''m happy I''m alive after sleeping in the sand like an idiot. The light of day makes this purple and teal world more inviting.


    Looking around, I still see evidence of my near death experience with the fake walrus last night, but alarmingly a substantial amount of the walrus was gone. No sign of where it went.


    I take back the inviting part, this place is scary. I need to strike a balance between levity and deadliness if I want to keep my sanity and also survive here. Right now it''s time to be serious, I should check out my surroundings.


    I walk around the beach to a point jutting out into the water and look out towards the ocean. I think I see bumps on the horizon, but I can''t be sure at this distance. I noticed while walking the beach that it curves away consistently all along it''s length in both directions. Maybe I''m on an island? I can see a few kilometers in each direction, so it must be a large island if it is one.


    Not finding anything exciting out on the water, I decided to turn and look up into the ridges where I came from.


    Well, that''s peculiar.


    From this angle, in the light, I kind of recognize this place.


    Sorry, this shape.


    It''s purple, has even ridges, and is near the water. It has a shape that is nice and round. I''m standing on a beach that is made out of pink sand. Sand that I know from intimate experience is very warm and oddly spongy.


    I really can only come to one conclusion from where I''m standing.


    It''s a clam.


    I''m living on the biggest clam in history.


    I look back to the ocean again, the bumps on the horizon are a tiny bit larger.


    It''s moving. It''s a moving clam.


    It might be that the smoke I saw that day was a boat? A different land mass? Is that why I couldn''t find it again, the clam passed it while I was climbing?


    ...


    Why am I here?


    I don''t have magic and to top it off I get put on an island sized clam.


    Wait, don''t clams blow bubbles or something? I''m horrified, but come to think of it, am I here in the first place because we have a mutual bubble affinity? I''m so depressed I can''t move. Punching trees doesn''t even help so I fall to my knees and pulverize the ground for a bit. The ground kicks up salty dust and slate like flakes. Just like a shell.


    It''s getting worse and worse the more I think about it.


    Me and the stupid giant clam are...... a band of bubblers? Bubble buds? Bubble brothers?


    I would laugh if I didn''t have a hunch that the bastard god was upstairs laughing away at this very moment.


    Seriously, it isn''t funny. I have an urge to cry again.


    ¡­


    There is a small crater around me now. If the clam were to ask, I''ll not take the blame.


    What crater?


    I''ve held it together pretty well, all things considered. I can''t see very well because of water in my eyes. It''s from the dust that I didn''t kick up.


    Honest.


    I get up and am about to brush myself off when I notice this weird robe isn''t dirty at all. After everything that has happened so far it should definitely filthy so I can only conclude that it''s magic. I want it to be magic at least.


    I feel an excitement rise I haven''t felt since I first arrived. Now that I''m thinking clearly again, what''s with this? I don''t need to breath, and I haven''t eaten any food or drank any water since I''ve been tossed here. I''ve been too busy running around to notice. I''m not sure what''s going on, but my spirits are rising. It''s all about finding the little things. Sure, I don''t have magic and I live on a clam, and it truly is a horrible thing, but at least I''m not thirsty, starving, or worst of all, dirty.


    I need to think positively. If one day I am able to learn magic I don''t want people thinking me to be a filthy wizard. That would be unseemly. I''m liking this robe a lot more now.


    It''s helped me settle down a bit.


    I''m not doing badly, I just need to be more cautious and right now I''ll take some deep breaths and enjoy the sun. I spot a nicely shaped rock to lay down for a bit and relax.


    I''ll reflect for a little while I''m at it.


    I''m living on my bubble brethren, a massive clam, so I don''t know what tomorrow will bring, but I firmly believe it will not trouble the great Wilson at all. Tamer of wolves, friend of the sun, purveyor of the moons, wearer of mysterious robes, and conqueror of ridges, dirt, trees and walrus-things. Nothing related to bubbles here, nope.


    Wilson.


    I guess that''s me.


    ---

 Chapter 3 – What rolls down, must come up.

    Authors Corner


    Dear reader,


    I hope that you enjoy the character development this chapter.


    I''d also like to note that I feel a tiny bit proud that none of these words in the last 3 chapters had been written 24 hours prior to this. Yesterday, when I started, I couldn''t possibly have imagined writing almost 9,000 words by today.


    Please smash this pride with scathing remarks about my writing, my countenance, or possibly my mother. Just leave poor Wilson alone, he''s been through a lot.


    <hr />


    Chapter 3 ¨C What rolls down, must come up.


    Wilson ([Insert Accolades]).


    Midair.


    4 weeks later.


    I''ve had time to think.


    I''m certain of at least three things.


    First, I still really want magic, specifically Fire Magic. I don''t know if it exists, I don''t care if it doesn''t, but I want it. I''ll make it myself if I have to. This is a given.


    Second, I really want to get off of this damned clam.  It''s not so bad most of the time but there are moments when it shakes so fiercely that I''m launched into the air. Last time it happened I went above tree height. I''m going to estimate that I made it 10 meters skywards, which is thus far my personal best. Small wins, right?


    Clearly, this clam is not a calm clam. It doesn''t really hurt being tossed around, but since it said tossing goes on at times for more than an hour, it causes me nausea. Could you call it sea-sickness? Ugh.


    My only comfort is this regard is that there are other land animals here and they don''t seem too concerned by being juggled by this demented mollusc. I have to wonder who''s actually demented though. On one hand, there is a clam the size of a small country that''s jumping around or smacking it''s lips for no discernible reason. On the other hand, there are a bunch of animals, myself included, that currently live on its back. If it were a deadly submersible clam, there wouldn''t be any land animals. If I''m wrong about this, the animals, myself included, are the demented ones.


    Thinking back on my actions during the last few weeks, I''m going to tentatively say the odds are 50-50.


    Finally, I''m absolutely positive that the Bastard god, otherwise known to me as That Being that landed me Here, stupid-face, and my new favorite, because I''m lazy, TBG, is honestly screwing with me. I''ve had enough time during my bouncy ball act to think over all the possible reasons why I''m in this world in the first place. I feel like I was told those reasons, but then TBG decided to yank them away from me, along with the majority of my memories.


    Oh, wait a second.


    That tree I just cleared was definitely taller than the last one. I''m going to estimate that it is around 13 meters tall. That''s a new record.


    Where was I?


    Right, there is a reason I believe TBG is screwing with me, and that is because I can''t think of any other reason for me to be here. Why did receive these powers that aren''t the powers I wanted? Why do I have no memory of what I was told, except for the vague notion of ¡°Do whatever, I guess¡± ? I''m stupid, so there might be a good reason, but for now I can only believe that I''m here solely for TBG''s entertainment. It would explain a lot.


    It''s fine though. I''ve come to terms with this fact. I''m still going to do whatever I feel like, with a notion that at a distant point in the future, I''m going to work out a way to get some form of revenge.


    I''m fine if it''s petty revenge because I''m a petty person.


    At least I think I was.


    In the meantime, I''ll have to deal with these bizarre situations.


    Oh! That tree was 15 meters tall. I''m on a roll today.


    ---


    Wilson, the land lover.


    Near a strange wooden structure.


    1 hour later.


    The urge to vomit has passed. I waited near my crudely built anti-walrus shelter just in case the urge was too great. If I were to get sick, I''d probably just call it a day. However, the chances of me vomiting were next to none. You have to have food inside your stomach to vomit, right?


    Which reminds me of a whole host of other things that I strongly suspect but can''t really prove.  Beyond reasonable doubt at least.


    I have a suspicion that I have no need to eat, drink, breathe, defecate, urinate, or gesticulate.


    Scratch the last one, the need to gesticulate is confirmed, so it''s off of the list. I have this unyielding urge that is currently causing me to send unpleasant gestures skywards again. I only have TBG to thank for that.


    The newly reformed list isn''t where I stopped investigating however.


    Out of curiosity, I wrestled off the robe I''ve been wearing, which turned out to be surprisingly difficult. It had a loose outer layer that was flowing around me but the inner layer was practically stuck to my skin. More disturbingly, the inner layer was practically skin itself. The inner layer had been covering my hands and feet, but it the material is so thin at my extremities that I hadn''t noticed it up until I was peeling away. It took significant effort to remove because of how tight it was against my skin.


    To make it worse, the layers are attached in a bizarre way. I eventually figured out that the ever-changing mottled areas are where the two layers connect. I was nearly certain at that point that this robe is magical.


    Once I had the robe off, it seemed to grow a fair amount, but more importantly I started to feel strange. Naked. I mean, I was actually naked, but I also felt ¡­ mentally naked. I tried engaging in my normal pastime of hitting trees, expecting myself to be weakened, but it was blasted away as per usual. Tree-KO.


    Satisfied that my body was doing fine, I left the robe off for a while and eventually a curious thing started to happen. I started to get hungry. For the better part of the month I had not known the feeling of hunger, so those first pangs were startling enough that I was back in the robe in the time it takes to say ¡°bearded walrus meat¡±, which is precisely what I did not want to have to eat.


    It had grown enough that it took no time at all to pull it over my body again. As soon as I had had it up to my neck I felt it shrink and slither into a perfect fit. The feeling of it doing so still haunts me.


    Since I''m only an idiot, and not the most moronic human in existence, it only took me a minute before I started peeling myself out of the robe again. As soon as it was off, the earlier pang of hunger was still noticeable but subdued.


    From my amazing deductive abilities and my willingness to experiment, I can only assume that this robe is actually sustaining me. I want it to be magic, so I''m going to forge ahead and say that it''s magical. It''s a magical item for me, at the very least. I haven''t seen any fresh water on this clam, so if I weigh the importance to my livelihood, between my body and this robe, this robe is probably the winner.


    Not just because I love magical things. I would never have survived if I had needed fresh water.


    It''s a depressing thought.


    ¡­


    The only other thing that I experimented with was my bubbles. I can make ten at a time. That is all I want to think about the subject, I don''t even want to call them mine.


    I honestly can''t think about the bubbles without getting upset.


    Ah. I''m upset now.


    What I find always calms me down is talking my frustration away with the help of some nearby trees.


    By ''talking'', I mean punching of course. Let''s not forget an occasional kick.


    After a brief ''chat'', I feel relieved and also made some progress towards my current project.


    No, the project isn''t deforestation.


    I''m working on improving my carpentry skills. This project was carefully designed by me to help me reach my goals. It helps that I''m a natural... at sourcing materials anyways.


    The goals I mention are to leave this clam island and to create some fire magic. How I plan to leave the island should be obvious, I''m now at the stage of practicing building rafts. I''ve already had a bunch of experience building shelters.


    The fire magic, however, is a different story.


    I''m planning on taking a piece of the plentiful kindling and using a bubble to focus the sun on it until it burns. Then voila, I have fire magic. I don''t really want to talk about the bubbles in any positive way, or even think about them for that matter, but if it''s a means to achieve a fiery end, I can pull through.


    My attempts thus far have only resulted in failure.


    It''s sad, I know, but it''s the best I can do.


    Since I have fresh kindling around and a growing desire to burn things, I bring out a bubble and stretch it out until it''s large enough to focus light. This time I keep trying to mentally angle it until I finally see an inkling of progress. This particular stroke of genius only took me a few weeks to come up with.


    The result, well, it''s not much to speak of, but one of the pieces of kindling looks like it might have darkened.


    Let''s just say it darkened.


    ¡­


    I feel hollow.


    ¡­


    I barely have time to sulk before I hear a familiar barking. It''s hard to tell from this distance if it''s a wolf or a walrus.


    I''ve had a few more wolf encounters since I first came, along with a strange creature I can only liken to a cross between a rock and a toad, but I only run into one of the two when I venture further uphill towards the heart of the clam. Not it''s actual heart, but the center of this clam-mass.


    Sorry, land-mass.


    The wolves don''t really bother me, it only took a few love-taps every time I saw one before they decided I wasn''t worth the effort. They must have communicated it amongst the pack too, because now all of them avoid me.


    The rock toads seem to have a hard time seeing me with their bulging eyes, even when I''m right beside them, but when they do see me they immediately try to last me with their weird rocky tongues. I just wait for the tongue to hit me then grab it when it does. I get in some stress relief when attacked by toads because once I have their tongue I can spin them around building up speed before finally launching them into the distance. They land wherever, but they don''t come back to bother me. I doubt they''re dead, they seriously look and act like rocks.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    The most annoying animal by far are the bearded walruses. I''ve taken to building my hut further uphill, because they are apparently the apex predator of the beach. I can''t see how it''s possible. No animal should take them seriously considering the amount and variation of facial hair they have. I saw one that had an evil mustache with twirls in it, and another that had an even longer beard than the first. I''ve only seen a few in total, but they refuse to go away until I kill them. They chase me for hours until one of us dies.


    Maybe I shouldn''t laugh out loud every time I see one.


    I''m obviously still alive. The beach just more gruesomely decorated after every encounter.


    The walruses aren''t stupid though, and that is why I''m on alert right now. They know where I live, somehow.


    It''s coming. They generally make no attempt at stealth once I''ve heard them, until then they are somehow capable of sneaking up on me. Every time they get really close before they announce themselves, and I''m caught unaware. I always turn around to see their strange assortment of beards and mustaches and every time I don''t have the preparation required to hold my laughter.


    It''s like they bashfully wait for me to not be busy before giving a bark saying ¡°What do you think of this one?¡± while proudly showing off their facial hairstyles.


    A truly bizarre animal.


    ¡­


    I must have been distracted thinking about their facial hair again, because the one barking earlier has had time to make it to my position.


    I don''t really have to worry as of late. I walk over and enter my shelter. I call it a shelter, but it doesn''t even protect me from rain. No, it''s sole purpose is walrus protection.


    As soon as the idiot is in range, I just start laughing as loud as I can. It''s feigned though, because this one has a completely ordinary mustache.


    It''s a bit disappointing.


    This time the walrus doesn''t even stop to showoff first. I think it must be insecure.


    It just charges right for me, gaining speed to flop into the air, all building the momentum required to finally crush me.


    I''m in my shelter though, it''s specifically designed for walrus attacks. My shelter doesn''t even have covering, it''s just made of logs bent to form a dome of sorts. It looks like it could be the ribs of some giant animal, but it''s actually made of the thickest trees I could find. A human can easily fit between the gaps in the logs, a walrus cannot.


    This walrus certainly tries.


    However, in the end, it''s just an animal and is easily confounded when the hundreds of logs bend, absorbing the force of it''s landing. As the logs rebound, the walrus is pushed off of the shelter and onto it''s back. It''s confused enough that I have the time to pop out of the shelter and punch it in the head.


    The one hit beheading is really wearing me down, emotionally. Even if they''re obnoxious, I don''t really like killing them this way.


    ...I''d prefer using magic to burn their facial hair off first. If they would just back down with that, I think we could come to an understanding. I wouldn''t want to mock them as much, and they wouldn''t feel a need to chase me around showing me their beards.


    What can I say? I''m a dreamer.


    I focus back on reality, because my favorite part of a walrus attack might just be now.


    Why is it my favorite? It''s because of another redeeming feature of my shelter. After moving so many times, eventually I struck upon the idea to build it on this not-so-gentle slope. Now all I have to do is just drag the walrus corpse around until it''s parallel to the shoreline and start it rolling back down towards the water. Bits and pieces of walrus and broken trees are in it''s wake as it starts gaining momentum.


    Come to think of it, who said I was stupid? It only took 3 or 4 tries to manage to build a shelter that wouldn''t get crushed. This new improvement makes the corpse removal an easy two step process.


    Said corpse is now finishing its almost straight run down the slope. My aim was really excellent this time.


    It hit the ocean moving far faster than I can run.


    Hole in one.


    The splash is so massive I can feel a bit of ocean spray from here.


    Oh!


    Maybe that''s how the creatures know where I live.


    Come to think of it, the one who said I was stupid was me.


    ---


    Wilson, the adrift.


    On a raft.


    The next day.


    After reflecting upon my poor decision making as of late, I felt it was time to move on. I also knew with certainty it was time to get off the clam.


    I had also realized I forgot one very important thing; I don''t need to breathe.


    In theory, this means that this entire time I could have left by simply holding my breath and swimming however long it took to get to nearby land. I had mulled it over and felt sure this body of mine was capable.


    I think I had shied away from such an idea because I have no clue what lurks in the ocean''s depths.


    None of this really mattered though, because in the end I wasn''t the one to decide when it was time for me to leave.


    The clam was.


    This is because it turns out this clam was, in fact, a clam of the dangerous and submersible variety.


    I had first felt disturbed when I noticed bubbles in the ocean.


    Bubbles.


    It was a divine omen. A message undoubtedly straight from TBG himself saying that bad things would soon happen to me.


    Shortly thereafter, the clam began to dive, or whatever it is that giant clams do that requires them to go underwater.


    The dive was a slow process, I could barely see the shoreline slowly creeping towards me.


    I didn''t stress out too much.


    I had all the wood I could ever need nearby and in good condition to reuse.


    I tore apart my shelter and got to work making various rafts until one looked good enough to take across the water.


    I hopped on and set out to sea. I''m currently lounging about, enjoying the sun.


    I had made a few oars in preparation of getting bored of being adrift.


    I''m already bored and want to use them but there is nowhere to go.


    I don''t see any land in particular on the horizon. The bumps I had seen on my second day here had only turned out to be underwater mountain peaks. Outcroppings made entirely of stone, barely reaching out of the water. When we passed by a couple weeks ago, I could tell at a glance that those rocks were uninhabited. Do humans even inhabit this world?


    I''m getting a bit bummed out again...


    I don''t really have any options to pick from, so I guess I''ll just take it easy and see where the tides take me.


    ---


    Wilson, the lost.


    On a raft, slightly less adrift.


    Two weeks later.


    I was in the middle of a dream about traveling the ocean forever when I was abruptly woken up.


    Something had bumped into the raft. The raft I was endlessly traveling the ocean with.


    My first reaction was to be scared.


    My second reaction was to thank it for waking me from that awful dream.


    The reaction I settled on was my third one, excitement. If something is nearby, it could mean land.


    I waved a friendly thank-you towards the water but I couldn''t see anything down there.


    I know there are always things underneath the raft though.


    I''m know for a fact there is a titanic clam somewhere in the depths, and during this last week I''ve seen large shadows in the water during the day. What is worse is that at night,  glowing eyes of a various of shapes, colors and sizes light up the water.


    All of these beings unknown. All of them beneath me right now.


    I give my head a shake because I''m still sleepy. These thoughts are quickly turning into waking nightmares.


    Scanning the horizon, I spot a vast range of land in the direction the raft is heading. The raft must have gained a lot of ground during the night.


    I became even more excited when I could make out the color of the land. It was green. It''s not as shocking as it would have been a couple weeks ago, but it was still enough to make me cry.


    I''m not joking around right now, there are tears in my eyes. I''m weeping because after over a month of being on my own in a strange world, I finally see something that looks like it could be home.


    I''m not na?ve enough to think it will be welcoming, but just the fact that the color is familiar is enough to bring overwhelming nostalgia to my heart.


    I mentioned though that it wasn''t as shocking as it could have been, and it''s true. Since leaving the clams wake, every day the sky has been changing from teal to it''s more familiar blue. The last few days it''s been hard to tell the difference between here and Earth.


    The sun even stopped pulsing.


    There are still two moons in the night sky, but they no longer glow eerie colors. They just continue their slow celestial waltz, clad in a boringly ordinary white.


    ..


    ¡­


    Enough of this.


    I jump directly off the raft and start swimming as fast as this body will take me. The light of dawn is just beginning to break over the ocean.


    The only thought I can get into my wild head right now is ¡°Wilson vs. Dawn''s light.¡±


    It''s absurd, but I plan to race it to see which of us reaches land first. It won''t be an aggressive race, since it''s a race between friends. Win or lose, the light will still gently guide me forward. Guide me to take new steps, see new places, and perhaps meet humans once again.


    I''m crying,


    I''m smiling,


    and I''m swimming at the speed of light.


    ---

 Chapter 4 – Are you just happy to see me?

    Authors Corner


    If you''ve understood the sensibilities of our befuddled protagonist so far, please tell him. He doesn''t have a clue as to what''s going on.


    Then again, with my meager skills, you might not either.


    <hr />


    Chapter 4 ¨C Are you just happy to see me?


    Wilson.


    Tastily floating near the shore.


    Many Moments later.


    Hello there again, Shadow in the water.


    It looks like you might not get breakfast on this lovely morning.


    That''s because I''ll be getting out of the water in a moment.


    Just like how you are savoring me, I''m savoring my soon-to-be landfall.


    In the meantime, I''m floating around. I''m doing so because I''ve felt a need to question how I did, in fact, reach speeds that physics would balk at.


    I was straining myself so hard when it happened, harder than I have ever strained at all in my short life. One moment I could see the shore in the distance, and the very next moment I was right beside it, in water knee-deep.


    I had hit warp speed.


    Life is giving me lemons here, because the very moment I was able to let out the torrent of emotions that were constantly bash against the dam of my reason, a whole new flood of worries set in.


    If I could sense magic, or I believed that I had any, I would call this a Teleport.


    An honest-to-bastard-god Teleport. The famed magic skill that any wizard would die thrice for.


    It''s not magic though. I can''t explain it, but I know it to be true. I know it, not in my mind but in my soul. I shiver to think how that bastard put knowledge there.


    Now that I do a roll-call on all my parts, I know that the ¡°Teleport¡± has ripped something out of me. I just don''t know what went missing. Considering my primary obsession, I want it to be mana, but like I''ve mentioned, I''ve ruled it out.


    I''ve tried a few more times to make ''Teleport'' happen, but nothing comes from my efforts.


    What went right? Or rather, what went wrong?


    I don''t have answers, but I''m calm.


    I''m as serene as the salty water that surrounds me.


    It''s so quiet that although I have no need to, I''m breathing softly. I don''t want to break the mood of this peaceful morning.


    The breeze wandering past me breaks the solitude with the thinnest trills and tweets of the nearby birds.


    Wait, birds?


    Instead of the usual rampant excitement running through me, I''m simply content as I paddle my way to shore.


    ---


    Wilson, the bird whisperer.


    Partway through the morning.


    I''m currently mimicking an ordinary small red bird, in both sound and demeanor.


    The bird is cautious of me, and I''m cautious of birds in general. It''s hard to punch something that flies.


    I''ll admit I''m playing around again, but I think it''s alright, since I don''t feel any urgency from my situation. I have nowhere to go and nothing to do. So I''m standing here, cawing back at a confused bird. I''m making sure I enjoy myself; I have been doing so since I first saw this vibrant place.


    As for the bird, I nearly killed the flying pest when I came across it earlier.


    I had come out of the water after a short rocky climb, and had proceeded to explore the local vegetation without destroying anything at all, not even trees. I was trying to be more prudent in this homelike place.


    I wasn''t yelling random phrases. I wasn''t showing people upstairs my middle finger. It''s shocking, but I wasn''t even punching everything in sight.


    Compared to my normal behavior, I was being a saint.


    Saint Wilson the Sane.


    When I realized it, all I could think was ¡°What has come over me?¡±.


    Actually, I might have even said it out loud. Which was comforting in a way, because that seems more like the sort of stupid thing I would do.


    I then heard an airborne cry and was promptly thereafter attacked by a beak.


    I was so comforted and calm that I resisted my instant-kill instinct.


    Instead, I let it peck me a few times, chatter incessantly overhead, and return to the branch it came from. Due to my freshly minted sainthood, I let it do all these things in peace.


    Which brings me to now. So here we are, bird and human.


    I stop cawing for a moment and look it over. It''s quite nicely colored, being red breasted and having sunny yellow highlights running from wingtip to crest. It almost looks like it''s wearing a little red shirt with yellow jacket leading all the way up to a little yellow crown.


    Yes, just like a little pompous king...


    A stupid and fluffy one.


    ...


    Ouch, ouch!


    I''m sorry my liege!


    This court jester of yours will stop besmirching thine good name. But thou art truly fluffy and thine intelligence hath fled at the sligh''est provocation.


    ¡­


    Ow! Stop that!


    I''m retreating slowly, my hands are up! Look, I''m harmless, okay?


    Ow, again!?


    You stupid bird, hands up doesn''t mean I want you to peck my fingers.


    ¡­


    ¡­...


    Uh-oh.


    I''m fairly certain it wasn''t this play of mine but rather the fact that I stopped cawing that caused the bird to decide I shouldn''t be in its territory. It was being insistent enough that I wasn''t really paying attention to my surroundings as I tried to slowly back away. I didn''t pulp the feathery twit because I wanted to keep my sainthood.


    But for the first and probably last time, either my stupidity or violent nature would have been helpful.


    Because right now I feel a nostalgic dropping sensation in my heart.


    It''s not love.


    I''m currently falling backwards.


    ---


    Wilson.


    At the base of a cliff.


    The light slope I''m sitting on right now is the result of a recent landslide, I think. There are broken boulders everywhere here at the bottom of the cliff and the dirt looks upturned, with no signs of plant growth. Taking a closer look upwards, the cliff itself looks unstable.


    I''m sitting here after falling a good 20 meters off of that cliff. I couldn''t have even imagined that I was that high above anything considering I''ve barely gone inland since the morning.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I''m panicking a little bit after my fall. Like everything else that''s happened to me since I''ve come here, what I just went through now is giving weird mixture of emotions.


    I''m happy I''m alive.


    I''m sad that I''m bleeding.


    I''m scared that I''m bleeding.


    I''m relieved that this body is bleeding.


    I''ve been really scared about this body up until now. I''m not sure which scared me more; the possibility that this body was inhuman, or that this body is now undoubtedly human. I''m bleeding red blood. It''s nothing serious. I''m being dramatic due to shock. It''s just my forearm that is scratched after my 20 meter fall. I''ve only bled a few drops too.


    Maybe saying I''m certainly human was too hasty.


    The culprit of my injury is the especially sharp rock beside me. It''s surface, heavily laced with metal deposits, lead me to believe that metal might be able to hurt me. I haven''t encountered any metal at all in this world up until now, and the only thing to make me bleed was this metallic rock. I''d bring it with me, but it''s far too large to be a good travel companion. So I just leave it, and keep in mind to be careful around metal until I know more.


    I''m becoming a veteran at not worrying about things I can''t change. It only took me a few minutes before I got up and decided to get a move on.


    I think I''ll continue my journey with the shoreline always in sight, at least for now.


    If humans are out there somewhere, they''ll live near the water, right?


    ---


    Wilson.


    In the middle of a good time.


    Dusk.


    I was looking for a good time, that is, I was looking for anything at all aside from the landscape to look at.


    Well... I was looking until I stumbled upon a clearing that had a hard packed trail running to both my left and right. I''m now having a good time. I picked left of course, as it led towards the ocean so it should end close by.


    I see footprints on this path, which means it was recently used in the last ¡­ year maybe?


    This can only mean one thing.


    A civilization of foot-people!


    I had hoped this day would come. I only wish that there was someone to share my joy with. I''m not as lonely as before, but it still dampens my mood a tiny bit.


    Thinking about this would have gotten me down before, but now...


    Now my heart is unbreakable.


    I happily stroll along this path, knowing that finding another humanoid life-form is a foregone conclusion.


    I have a clear purpose in life, at least for now.


    I''ll find a life-form.


    I''ll try to talk to that life-form.


    If it''s possible, I''ll ask the life-form where the closest wizard is.


    I''ll find that wizard.


    I''ll take that wizard''s magic. Preferably fire. I''ll steal it if I have to.


    It''s a solid plan. Vague enough that I won''t need to revise it, and detailed enough that I can''t possibly screw it up. It could take a long time, possibly forever, before I see this plan to fruition. I hope I have the perseverance to see these steps through to the end. Who knows how long even the first step will take.


    Hmm?


    What is that?


    I''ve spotted what looks like human.


    That was quick.


    It''s holding a rod of some kind, though it''s hard to make out in this light and this far down the path.


    Could it be holding a magical staff? If so, I''m happy to see it, I wonder if it''ll be even as close to that happy when it sees me?


    The peacefulness that has been with me all day, also known as my recently acquired Sainthood, is fleeing. I''m getting excited again.


    So excited, in fact, that I''ve tripped over myself twice while trying to run forward to meet the humanoid. I''m literally getting ahead of myself this time. Didn''t I tell myself not to do that? I''ll tell my legs instead.


    Bad legs! Bad!


    My legs haven''t really done anything wrong, but passing the blame is easier than blaming myself. Wait, that''s wrong too. Whatever, I''m too eager to care.


    Speaking of wrong though, I''m fairly certain that the earth I''m currently spitting out tastes just as revolting as the earth from Earth. Earth''s earth is the same as magical earth. Heartwarming, isn''t it?


    The current mess of my uncoordinated arms and legs have brought me close enough to the humanoid to make out its features.


    It''s a he, it''s a human, and he''s definitely not handsome.


    No offense, buddy.


    I have no idea what passes for good looks here, so I don''t know for sure, but missing teeth, and dirt just about everywhere can''t be attractive to anyone.


    Oh! I''m getting distracted, I best stick to the infallible plan I made earlier.


    ¡°H....HEL-L-LOOOO!¡±


    ¡°TAKE ME To Y-your W-w-w-w-w-izard!¡± I exclaim at a rapidly diminishing volume while jumbling towards him.


    Um.... that wasn''t quite right. I t-think I skipped straight to step f-four.


    R-Running and talking don''t r-really go t-t-together in the first place.


    Uh....


    T-that''s an excuse.


    I''m so incredibly nervous that my thoughts are even stuttering.


    I guess in this new life of mine I''m bad with high pressure social situations. Based on my divine dealings, I think I''m starting to realize I was probably bad at those kinds of situations in my past life too. Maybe it''s why I wanted to be secluded wizard in the first place? I''ll never know.


    What I do know is that I''ve been practicing talking to animals lately, shouldn''t that have helped me improve? Actually, that was mostly unsuccessful now that I think about it.


    Whoops.


    ¡­


    Roughly 10 seconds was enough time to both regain myself and amble closer to the man. I ambled too close and too fast, because I fell over again right at his feet.


    I look up and give him my best friendly smile, but then I quickly retract it.


    This is serious.


    I''m hoping I made it in time.


    I might have offended him with my clearly superior teeth.


    Oh. He''s finally greeting me in return.


    With the business end of that rod he was holding.


    How do I know it''s the business end?


    That''s easy.


    It''s metallic.


    It''s sharp.


    And most importantly... it''s pointy.


    I''m Wilson, and uhhh... w-well....


    I think I might be in trouble.


    ---

 Chapter 5 – Thanks for the Save, Sav.

    Authors Corner


    Like always, I''d love feedback.


    Specifically, feedback about my writing style. I''ve had to modify it slightly each chapter to achieve the effect on plot and voice that I''ve wanted, and once again heavily for this chapter.


    I think basic is best, so I want to know if it''s confusing or hard to follow.


    That or any feedback is welcome.


    <hr />


    Chapter 5 ¨C Thanks for the Save, Sav.


    Wilson.


    Hanging around.


    Time: ?


    I''m just hanging around.


    Haaa.......


    I''m literally hanging by my hands right now.


    I can only sigh because I''m forcing myself to joke around. I don''t think that it''s funny, but that isn''t the point, I''m trying to lighten my own mood. I''m just not very successful. My sense of humor is waning.


    It''s harder to find comedy now that clarity has overcome me. From the time I met Sav to now I''ve had a steadily growing sensation that the previous couple months were a dream. Despite me wishing otherwise, those months did in fact happen, but I can''t imagine what I was thinking.


    I don''t need to stretch to make a guess; my mind is working properly now. I''ve had time to sober up since I''ve been taken prisoner.


    Something had been effecting my mind.


    My lucid state now is due to these manacles I''m wearing. Every day since the day I was forced to wear them, slowly but surely, my fervor had died a little more. As of yesterday, I think I''m the same person I was on day one of this new life. Unfortunately, there are leftover effects.


    I have a twitch in my right eye which is usually followed by the overwhelming impulse to hit anything near me.


    I''ve confirmed this from the many times Sav unexpectedly uncovered the back of the wagon and yelled at me to keep my ¡°Tricks¡± to myself before letting me out for a break. His yelling is certainly annoying, but I don''t think a rational person would kill a human over it. The threatening sentiment is mostly gone by the time he unfastens my manacles from the roof of the wagon. I was close to the limit of my self-control a few days back. He had kept poking me to ¡°Get moving¡± with his spear.


    I think he had realized it wouldn''t have been a good idea to continue poking when he had had a look at my face. I was barely stifling a snarl.


    Outbursts of anger aside, these manacles must be cursed. They are definitely made of an unusual metal and have markings all over them. I can''t be sure, but I think I remember them changing size to fit me when I put them on.


    With all this time to think, I''ve observed that they are cursing my body along with whatever was poisoning my mind. The poisoning being my urge to run around with a death wish. Ever since I''ve put them on, I''ve had to feel hunger and thirst again. I don''t want to get into specifics, but my plumbing is all hooked up as well, which is relieving in it''s own way.


    Oh, a pun. I''m guess I''m doing better.


    Anyways, the curse, if it is one, isn''t complete. My ridiculous strength remains, although when poked with the spear, I did bleed a little, not that that was entirely new. My hunger and thirst are mild. I can deal with eating only one meal a day. I only require a nap to feel rested. Of course there are still occasional wild outbursts too.


    I think it''s the fact that I have a mind clear of rampage, along with knowing that my body can break free at any time, that makes me play along with my imprisonment.


    Sav isn''t too bad, he has far more teeth than I had previously made out. He''s only missing two. He''s dirty, but then again, he doesn''t have an auto-clean function on his clothes like me. Fortunately he doesn''t smell.


    From this distance, anyways.


    I''ve been trying to get as much information as I could out of him since he first threw these manacles at me to put on. I''m just so thankful that whichever whim I was entertaining at that time included wearing these in the first place. I can just as easily imagine my past self throwing the manacles towards the horizon, laughing spontaneously, and then smashing this poor man into a mist.


    ...


    A small shiver just ran down my spine.


    So... Sav has been treating me with suspicion, and I think he is right to do so. Not that I''ll tell him that. I was worried about my stuttering when I was first talking to him, but after a few days of harassing him, it has since disappeared.


    Aside from quiet grumbling, Sav hasn''t said much, other than his name, that I''ll ¡°Not be getting his spirits¡± and that he''d like to see some man''s face when I become that man''s problem. It sounds like I''m being taken to a warden, but I don''t really feel like a prisoner, and Sav isn''t a guard or anything. I think he might be a hunter, looking at the contents in the back of this wagon. He has inferred that I am a ¡°magekin¡± or something, but since I have no idea how to cast a spell, I have no idea how he got that impression. He won''t say anything on the subject. He could have at least called me ¡°wizardkin¡±.


    Jerk.


    Insults aside, it''s my current belief that I''m not truly a prisoner. Sav''s concerned about my health. He''s asking if I have had enough food and water and if I''m managing to sleep when he unfastens my arms from the wagon at the end of each night. I''m currently lifting myself up and hanging from my hands to get a better view of outside, but I normally sit on a barrel that Sav put a cushion on. Not exactly how you''d treat a prisoner, right?


    The food and water were a nice change, but the food tasted incredibly bland. It was the same sort of gruel every day. There were fatty chunks of meat in it, but I couldn''t taste the meat over the gruel. Probably for the best, I want my first real taste of this life to be a good memory, not a bad one.


    I had the idea that he might be trying to fatten me up, which led me to think I might be sold as a slave. I was worried, so I had asked him while watching for a guilty reaction, but his confusion about the subject was evident. Instead, I discovered yet another strange fact about my new life.


    My language has been changed, and not in a way that makes sense to me. I don''t know what languages I can understand, or the language I''m using to speak. I hadn''t even thought about it until now.


    I found out when I said the word ¡°slave¡±. In my head it feels like the same language I normally speak in. When I said the word out loud though, Sav turned around and repeated it back to me questioningly, as if he didn''t recognize it.


    It sounded nothing like the language I''m used to hearing. So different in fact, that it was undoubtedly a word from a different language. What is causing me a headache is that it is in the same language the same as the word ¡°slave¡± in my head. It''s as if my natural dialect is a perfect blend of other languages.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    I recall that the beings that brought me here did more than just mess with my memories, but I didn''t know that their work extended to my language. The language that I use inside my head was even replaced by a mixture of different languages. That''s incredibly thorough.


    I''m having a hard time wrapping my brain around the thought. I''ve been questioning the sounds of all my words against anything I can remember. It''s no use, there is nothing to find.


    I don''t want to go mad, so instead I''m currently negotiating better accommodations. I''ve been stuck in the back of this wagon with only a tiny bit of light coming through the hole in the front that Sav keeps watching me through.


    Ahh. I want a view other than his face.


    ¡°Sav, please. Let me have just a small window back here to see the land, I have nothing else to do.¡±


    ¡°Shutup. You won''t be foolin'' meh.¡±


    ¡°All you have to do is tie this flap up, you can even close it when it rains, I won''t complain.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°Some light would be nice for my eyes, what would you do if I was blind by the time we got to this man you''re bringing me to?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°What if I promise to stop talking to you?¡±


    ¡°......Just the flap, y''said?¡±


    ---


    Sav.


    Here.


    Now.


    I ain''t never seen a Magekin like ''at one before. Wearin'' that weird Ethul. The Ethul ain''t got proper colors, neither.


    He almost bashed ''is own teeth in tryin'' to bite my feet when I first saw ''im.


    Spirits-be, how ''is eyes were wild.


    Heram, I know you ought be too busy to be listenin'' to simple folk like me, but please keep the home of this here heart safe from the Magekin. The things they be doin'' ain''t for me to know, but they be stealin'' from all the Spirits they can. I know that, certain.


    Them Magekin are a tricky lot. This one just put on the Sealers without a complaint, which sure is strange. He probably is playin'' at some strange game or just plain tryin'' to rob me. Can''t trust thieves o''course. I''ve kept ''is hands up so I''ll''ve time to run in case he tries somethin''.


    One day, I was getting him moving, and he nearly tried bitin'' meh. All fangs, his lips were curled back in a way I ain''t see a person be doing before. He be savage inside, I know it.


    I think he knows he can''t fool these eyes, I know what I saw in him. He''s been quieter now, given up yappin'' away tryin'' to get my guard lowered.


    But I been around. Everyone knows Magekin aren''t to be trusted with, even when they quiet. Can''t just bang ''em up, neither. They''re like a pack of wolves, they are.


    Now he''s tryin'' to strike a deal with me. He says he''ll stop pesterin'' me with all these damned questions if I leave part of the wagon uncovered. Says he just be wantin'' to see where he ''is.


    As if I''d be believin'' ''im. He''s here, ain''t he? ''ow he not know where he went wanderin''? I''ll play with ''is tune, because if it means he''ll leave me be, less chance my Spirits get thieved.


    He can be playin'' all the tunes he want to.


    Because I''ll keep my eyes on ''im, right up until I force ''im onto that Merchant.


    ---


    Wilson.


    Close to a city.


    A few days later.


    My earlier negotiations were successful. It was enjoyable suddenly being able to watch the landscape as we slowly traveled along. After a couple days though, with barely a peep out of Sav, and not wanting to lose my scenery privileges, I was getting so ridiculously bored that I started practicing with my bubbles. They was really the only skill I could work on with my hands all tied up.


    I still want to be a wizard, of course, but now that I can think it through, there is no reason to ignore tools at my disposal.


    I''ve stumbled into another revelation. The bubbles I can make now number 1,174. Just counting that high was hard enough, but trying to figure out the reason behind the change has been even harder. I can make them far smaller and far larger than before, although they don''t come larger than my head or smaller than my thumb. It''s easier to control them, too. I just have to think of certain parts of them as a group, then those groups as a part of other groups. I can even create them with the groups in mind.


    It''s all very fascinating, but I think that a few months ago, even though I was doing stupid things, I had made a good decision by not relying on these bubbles. I can''t study them too obviously without making Sav suspicious, but they still don''t have to seem to serve any specific purpose. I suppose I could make a large batch of them and wrap it around myself to distort my features. I''ll keep that in mind if I get in trouble in the upcoming city.


    Speaking of which, I can get a better look at it now we''re closer, it''s a city in two sections, or two sister cities, but since the two parts are so close, only separated by a small bay, it looks  like two parts of a whole. The city''s smaller section rising above the ocean looks to be an island.


    The aura of the city feels amazing, but antiquated. I don''t mind. I can''t remember any particular city from my past life, so this city is technically the first one I''ve ever seen.


    The sections look like fraternal twins, with how they''re situated on the water and how different the sections are. The section we''re coming to is of course the one on the mainland, and has light gray stone walls surrounding it, but it doesn''t compare to the section of the city sitting on a small island.


    Built like a fortress, massive black walls span the ocean side. The side that''s facing inland has walls almost as large, with the exception of the middle third, where it looks like docks have taken over.


    Large wide buildings painted various bright colors pepper the docks. Without any windows that I can see, I''m assuming they are warehouses. They climb all the way up the small slope of the island until they stop at another heavily walled area which is probably the... castle. Fort. Whatever it''s called, it''s undoubtedly where the ruler lives.


    The splotches of colors mixed in with the austere fortifications make the city look lively and orderly at the same time.


    I think my reformed self will fit right in.


    Though I do hope I can get rid of this twitch.


    ---

 Chapter 6 – A tale of one or two cities.

    Authors Corner


    If you notice any grammatical or spelling errors, please let me know. Of course, any other feedback is also welcome.


    Thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 6 ¨C A tale of one or two cities.


    Wilson.


    Gol-ta.


    We''re approaching the city walls. Sav has said little more than before, and nothing overly useful. He is definitely suspicious by nature. It''s aggravating getting information from him.


    He''s mentioned the city name, Gol-ta, or just Gol if you''re being lazy. I asked him whether it was one city in halves or two separate cities, and the response I received was disappointing.


    ¡°Who cares?¡±


    I carried on with my barrage of questions, and finally wrestled another fact out of Sav. It appears that its two halves are named the Upper city and the Lower city. How original.


    After rolling my eyes, I admit to myself that I appreciate the simplicity. It''s obvious that the fortress of an island rising above the ocean is the Upper city, and that we''re coming towards the Lower city by land. The simplicity is a blessing, because any more information than this and I''d be too overwhelmed to listen. I am taking in my very first peek at civilization. My eyes might be sparkling.


    We''re nearing the city gates near the waters edge. They are unexpectedly weak looking, because portcullis is made of a dark wood. Compared to the smooth strength of the stone walls, it seems like the gate would be far easier to attack, to me.


    The gate is right near the water, so I can see that concern from land attacks would be low. You could just go out into the water and around the wall to get in.


    I''m not sure anyone would even notice you, the water is that hectic.


    I''ve never seen so many sea-craft in one place before. Then again, I''ve never seen any sea-craft at all with this particular set of eyes. Warships, rowboats, barges and every other kind of basic seafaring vessel is filling the inlet between the cities. It''s astounding.


    This hodgepodge of vessels is bustling back and forth, from section to section, from city to ocean, and from ocean to city. This city must be a major seaport.


    It''s impressive, yes, but for some reason looking at the ships, I can only think they''re quaint.


    I''m lost in thought when we finally reach the gate.


    Rather than me, Sav is looking rather suspicious himself. He slid down from the front of the wagon and is conversing quietly with one of the guards while casting looks from side to side. She looks similar enough to Sav and me, except for being female, of course. I can make out her face due to the armor she''s wearing. Is hers an attractive face to me? I...really don''t know.


    Wait, are those guards wearing wooden armor? It''s the same dark material as the gate. Maybe that wood isn''t as weak as I''d thought.


    Another guard comes around after hearing what Sav was saying. He rounds the side and investigates through the flap and comes nearly face to face with me.


    I take it back, give me the pleasant looking lady guard instead, this mans mug is ugly.


    He takes a good look at me, from top to bottom, then his eyes widen more and more until he steps back around the side of the wagon. Oops, I feel a familiar twinge in my right eye. Was I snarling again?


    While I''m thinking dangerous thoughts, Sav hops back on the front and we start rolling through the gate.


    ---


    Wilson.


    Inside the labyrinth that is the Lower City of Gol-ta.


    This place is wild. There are people everywhere. Some of the roads we''re turning on to are so thick with people that they''re pressing against the wagon. They are all wearing a random assortment of clothes. All the buildings in the Lower city are randomly decorated as well. I start to recognize themes and patterns as we move along, but they don''t really mean much to me.


    As we wind through the streets I get to see all kinds of strange architecture, little of it includes that dark wood I saw earlier. Stone, a lighter wood and vibrant colors are what these structures are made of. The Lower city has nothing like the orderly aura that the Upper city gives off from afar. It''s pure mayhem instead.


    I can tell that order is well kept though because I see guards everywhere. With this many people, I think it only makes sense. The people far outnumber the guards, but the Lower cities layout make riot seem futile.


    This place would be hard to invade. It''s really difficult to tell where you are. It looks like we are going to the docks on the water when I get glimpses from the back of this wagon, it''s just that the route we are taking feels slow. After harassing Sav some more, it turns out the roads that lead directly to the docks from the gate are reserved for soldiers, officials and emergencies. At least I think they are, I have a hard time deciphering Sav''s short sentences.


    For two people who should be speaking roughly the same language, it is still hard to communicate. It''s likely mostly Savs fault, but I won''t know until I get a chance to talk to another human.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    While I''ve been contemplating, we''ve passed various shops.


    The one I''m looking at now has a few swords and sabers on display with prices shown neatly on wooden placards. I don''t have any idea what these numbers mean compared to other goods, but at least I can confirm I can read to an extent. It''s comforting information.


    What''s discomforting are the stares I''ve been receiving. The locals have been eying me through the flap of the wagon, and their stares are wary as if I''m a wild animal. It''s enough to cause a twinge in my eye.


    I need to be careful to not worry about it the stares so much. I might just prove them right. I suddenly have this image pop into my head of a wolf tearing through sheep.


    I really need to be careful, all these people around is stressing me out.


    It''d be better if I could talk to them and they''d stop staring at my body.


    When the wagon is close enough they first glance at my face and then they become wary as they take in my body. Now that I''ve got a chance to compare myself to more than just Sav, I think my looks are fairly average, brown hair, brown eyes and sun-tanned skin. My body is a different story. I''m not a huge person, I''m nearly average height, compared to the people we''re rolling past. But it''s not my height that they are likely staring at,  it''s my build.


    I''m covered from head to toe in svelte yet defined muscle. They must be able to see it poking from where the outer layer of my robe shuffles around and the near invisible inner layer reveals all my lines. The cherry on top is that my skin is as buttery smooth as a newborn. My body looks like a damned statue. It is worrying enough that I don''t feel like this body is mine, but the distrusting eyes of these people makes it even worse. I feel like I''m hiding inside the skin of another human. Hopefully my wolf doesn''t come out from underneath.


    Ah. My eye twitched.


    ...


    I don''t blame these people, I can understand being careful of a man with soft unblemished skin and visible strength.


    Yes, it''s totally understandable. Such a person in a medieval setting would stand out.


    Everyone I''ve seen here is a bit cleaner and better looking than poor Sav, but they still have scars and scratches and the weathered skin that comes with a life full of hardship and manual labor. I think that if I wasn''t in the back of a crude wagon  with my hands above me like a prisoner it would help my circumstances. They can only see up to my elbows from our respective positions, but my posture still looks strange.


    Regardless, I want them to stop and I can''t use my hands to close the flap. Sav doesn''t seem likely to want to stop to do it either, so I''ve come up with an idea.


    I make as many bubbles as I can, and an amount appears that roughly doubles in number from my last attempt. Elated, I then will them as small as I can and they become smaller than before too. Then I think of them as all one surface and they bind together into a mesh that mildly distorts the air. After waiting for a moment of respite from my onlookers, I mentally will them to rest across the opening and on the inside of the flap


    The effect is almost perfect. We start passing more people as we take yet another corner. None of them seem to care about me. It''s strange that the effect is this good, but perhaps since the wagon is dark inside, the effect is subtle one. Regardless, I''m happy with the result.


    The only downside is that I can no longer see the surroundings well. I''ve seen as many houses as I want to, anyways, so I''ll just idle the rest of the ride away.


    Oh, I smell sea salt again. We''re getting close.


    ---


    Sav.


    Gettin'' to the Docks now.


    Time for trouble, certain.


    The wild one been actin'' right strange back there. Had some small fuss in the streets when the folk spotted ''is Spirits-blasted Ethul.


    I cannit get ''im outta it, of course, but I shoulda closed that stupid flap. His precious view can be Spirits-blasted too. The cityfolk always be chatterin'' too much to be up to any good. This one be too wellabout not to chatter ''bout. A rumour be startin'' from this, certain.


    The Merchant ain''t gonna be likin'' that rumour, neither. He said before to be all quiet like


    If he wants to be quiet like, then I''d be happy to see ''im


    I don''t be likin'' what I must be doin'' when we cross the water. I know the rules though, and Heram knows I not be takin'' the rules lightly in this city.


    The cityfolk fear these Magekin beyond what they oughta. I be a fair folk like the next, but fair is fair, and stupid is stupid. That Merchant is a crafty one ''imself, he must be havin'' his reasons.


    It''ll be a fun go of it when I get to see ''is face. He''ll ''ave a tough time with this one, certain.


    Now how can I be causing no trouble takin'' this beast across the water?


    It''ll be tough to outfox ''im.


    Certain.


    ---

 Chapter 7 – There and (Im) back again.

    Authors Corner


    Short chapter today. I won''t grow as a writer if I don''t get any criticism, so any feedback is welcome.


    Thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 7 ¨C There and (I''m) back again.


    Wilson.


    At the docks of Gol-ta.


    Sav is acting weird. Weirder than his normal furtive self.


    ¡°I''m not coming out Sav, not until you tell me where we are going.¡±


    ¡°I don''t have to be tellin'' you nothin'', just haul yourself outta there. All calm-like, you hear?¡±


    A few minutes ago he got off the wagon again and was haggling with a deeply tanned, robust looking man in stripes. There was a lot of arguing involved, along with finger pointing. The fingers were mostly aimed either at myself, a nearby boat, or the fort in the Upper city. It was at this point that I started to get nervous.


    I''m being taken to the Upper city.


    With my strength, I can easily break out of these manacles and destroy a boat or two, but if they haul me up to that thick fortress, I might be in trouble. Sure, I could blast holes through the walls with my fists, but what would happen if one of the walls collapsed on me? That wall could pin me down just like the walruses had.


    The walruses were easy to get rid of when I hit them, and walls might not give me trouble. But what if they have more cursed items like these manacles? Or some sort of cursed trap? I''d either start losing strength if the curse was powerful enough, or I''d die from suffocation if there was a weak curse and I couldn''t get the wall off of me in time.


    They might even have a curse that completely saps my strength.


    This could be a trap.


    ¡°I don''t want to go to the Upper city¡± I say defiantly.


    Sav sighs.


    ¡°Ya either be getting'' up there or we wait here forever, tha'' Merchant needs to say ya.¡± Sav said, annoyed.


    ¡°Woah there Sav, you know you shouldn''t call him that.¡± The robust man injected with a stern voice. I hadn''t been able to hear him before, but he had made his way closer to the wagon while Sav was try to convince me.


    ¡°Ya be mindin'' your business, I''ll be mindin'' mine, thank you.¡± Sav said icily.


    ¡°Just don''t bring me trouble.¡± The other man shook his head and with a shrug of his shoulders went back to mind his boat.


    I was so interested in the exchange and the tanned man''s deep baritone voice that I forgot to stay on point.


    I turned back to Sav.


    ¡°I''m not going.¡±


    ¡­


    Instead of immediately responding, Sav took a moment to think. I''m not trying to be rude, but it''s a new look on him. He isn''t the type of person one would describe as ''thoughtful''.


    ¡°Y''claim to not knowin'' nothin'', I don''t be believin'' you. If what you say is true, then accordin'' to you, where you goin'' if not up the Upper city? Hmm? Got nowhere for you to be stayin'' here.¡±


    After his deliberation, all he said was this.


    And he had me, because he''s right.


    I don''t have anywhere else to go.


    ---


    Sav.


    As if arguin'' with Rilan''o wasn''t right tough, now this Magekin won''t get out the back of my wagon. Is he actin'' like a child cause he thinks I''m soft? If no one was around I''d give ''im a good thrashin'' with my spear.


    ...


    Nah, I know I wouldn''t be. Right scary, this one is.


    Rilan''o was bein'' all rule-followin''. Told me he wouldn''t bring the Magekin over with any restraints on. He has no idea the look in this ones eyes before he was wearin'' the Sealers.


    The rules about criminals in the Upper city be strict. They ain''t allowed. The rules ain''t a good thing to be broken, certain. I remember bein'' about when they announced the change. ¡°Think of these rules as your body.¡± was all they said when it came to punishment for breakin'' the rules. No one quite understood until the first idiot went and stabbed someone.


    They broke all the bones in his body. I still be shudderin'' when I''m rememberin'' seein'' it. He was just a bloody mess, whimperin'' for a few days. City has run right smooth ever since.


    Too smooth for me. Rilan''o here fancies ''imself some sort of prince of the water with all ''is rules and such. Before I just need give ''im a few whacks, or just a good threatenin'', and then he would be actin'' alright. Can''t do it no more without ''im cryin'' to the guards. Rilan''o is blasted if he thinks guards or anythin'' save him against a Magekin.


    Speakin'' of the beast, the Magekin is bein'' all whiny. At this point I just am hopin'' we get ''cross the water before it''s dark.


    I''ve no idea why he''s bein'' difficult now of all times. He was right ''appy puttin'' the Sealers on, strange as it is.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    It must be some new game he''s gettin'' at. I hate to be playin'' ''is games and blast-it if I''m gonna lose my spirits to ''im, but I have to get ''im movin'' somehow. What should I do? If I tell ''im more I have no idea what he''ll get up to...


    I''ll just go with ''is blasted story. I''ll not even fake that I be believin'' ''im. Just this should be enough I reckon.


    ¡°Y''claim to not knowin'' nothin'', I don''t be believin'' you. If what you say is true, then accordin'' to you, where you goin'' if not up the Upper city? Hmm? Got nowhere for you to be stayin'' here.¡± I lie to him. He can really go wher''ver he wants.


    He should know that, but I reckon ''is game right now won''t let ''im argue. If I can get ''im to drop ''is game or come with me, either way is fine.


    Why he lookin'' so sad though?


    I almost feel bad for ''im.


    Almost. Maybe I''m gettin'' soft after all...


    Heram my patience is thin, but he''s finally shufflin'' out.


    Here comes the hard part.


    ¡°Let me see yer hands.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Why!? Why does he think, this blasted Magekin is messin'' with me.


    ¡°We can''t be bringin'' you across the water lookin'' like a criminal.¡± I don''t need to say it, I can feel Rilan''o''s approvin'' stare on me.


    Blast him.


    ¡°Wait, not a criminal? Wait, y-y-you''re takin'' the manacles off?¡± he says all timid-like. Now I can feel a burnin'' stare from Rilan''o on the back of my head. I never said he be a criminal, Rilan''o don''t know the weird ideas these Magekin come up with. Hearm, I never said nothin'' about bein'' a criminal.


    I''m gettin'' a headache from this long act this Magekin be puttin'' me through. I''m only happy thinkin'' I get drop this headache on the Merchants lap soon. Then it will be the blasted Merchant''s problem, certain.


    ¡°Yes, now let''s not be draggin'' along, c''mon.¡± I prompt him to show me his hands.


    ¡°U-u-u-uhhhhhh¡±


    Has he gone even more stupid?


    ---


    Wilson.


    Still at the docks of Gol-ta.


    I''m not sure what to do. I''ve been in this prisoner dilemma since I first met Sav only because these manacles continue to help me gather my thoughts. I honestly don''t want to take them off now that I''m forced to. These chains have ironically come to give me a sense of safety. From myself.


    I know what I have to do though. I can''t risk going into that heavily fortified island without my full strength. I''d rather be somewhat out of control than to be dead. I have to make the rational decision here.


    I have nowhere else to go. The fact that Sav is letting me take off these manacles banishes all my minor doubts about my situation. I''m going to that island as a guest. I don''t really have to worry for my livelihood there, I think.


    My decision is further aided by my lack of options. I''m scared of the other citizens in this city now that I''ve seen their reactions to me. Sav has treated me roughly, but well so far. He doesn''t like me, but I don''t really see any fear from him. Whoever he is taking me to seems to be expecting me.


    I just have to trust this slightly toothless Sav to remove these restraints, and hope or even pray that things don''t go awry from there.


    ¡°Ok, go ahead Sav.¡±


    ¡°You''ve been takin'' a while thinkin'' this over. Now I''m a thinkin'' it might not be such a good idea...¡±


    ¡°Just take them off, Sav¡±


    He looks at me for a moment then grumbles in affirmation. He reaches over and with fingers quicker than I can see he''s managed to undo them.


    They grow as they fall to the ground.


    ---


    Wilson, the wonderful.


    Here.


    Now.


    Ahhh. I think I just let out a breath of air that I didn''t know I was holding.


    It doesn''t feel as hot out anymore. The rasp of thirst that was creeping in my throat is fading.


    My knuckles itch.


    I can feel the corners of my mouth being tugged upwards.


    My eyes cooly survey my surroundings anew.


    Twitch? What twitch?


    Someone like me doesn''t have facial ticks.


    I don''t have any ticks either.


    I hate insects like ticks because they always hide until it''s time to bite me.


    I hate insects because one kept biting me over and over again a few days ago, just because it couldn''t draw blood.


    I hate insects because they''re hard to kill with punching.


    I really really hate them.


    ...


    I just realized something.


    Hahahahahaha.


    Look out world, Wilson the Wonderful is back.


    ---

 Chapter 8 – Over troubled waters.

    Authors Corner


    I won''t grow as a writer if I don''t get any criticism, so any feedback is welcome.


    Thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 8 ¨C Over troubled waters.


    Wilson, the seasick.


    On a boat.


    I''m having a blast since I''ve taken off the manacles.


    This ride is nice and leisurely. It is supposed to be a quick ride to cross the bay between the cities, but the water was wavy due to all the huge ships milling about, and the small boat we''re on doesn''t fair well with waves. Me? I love waves.


    I''m really enjoying hanging off the back of the boat, puking away. I don''t have the benefit of having no food in my stomach, like in all my sea adventures so far.


    Anyways, puking is refreshing. It really gives off that oh-I-am-human-after-all sense.


    I was worried there for a moment when the manacles came off. The immediate feeling of superhuman giddiness was something I wasn''t expecting. Who expects something great to happen when they are expecting something bad?


    It''d be like a killer coming up to you and turning themselves in... Come to think of it, maybe that''s how Sav felt when he first met me.


    Hahahahaha.


    Oops.


    I''m slipping again.


    Back on track, I haven''t seen much of interest, except for some dangerous looking creatures in the water below.


    I gave one a wink. I suppose it wasn''t impressed because none of it''s twenty eyes winked back.


    Fine, then.


    I''ll acquire another aquatic acquaintance if you''re going to be a jerk.


    I''ve only had the water to stare at since my seasickness began. Which was immediately after we set off. The man who is known as Rilan''o is currently yelling from the front of the boat to one of the Upper City Dock officials. They''re on another boat nearby. The spot where we were supposed to disembark is currently occupied by a boat with a missing crew. I have no idea how they went missing in the Upper City, there must be only a few places to look, right?


    In the meantime we''re supposed to relax. I don''t mind, I''m super relaxed. It''s just my stupid stomach that seems to take issue with the wait. Err, waves.


    Blegh.


    I''m considering punching my stomach to see if it would help, but I shake off the sentiment and notice Sav is still spying on me. I had said something earlier that made him even more suspicious of me. Suspicion which I need just like I need this spoiled stomach. Because the massive grin on my face after I took off the manacles didn''t already make him suspicious enough.


    For some reason, since Sav doesn''t want to know my name, nor seems inclined to ask, he wasn''t sure how to get my sporadic attention once we got onto the boat. I was running around making sure it would float. He didn''t want to spill any of his secrets and call me by whatever he normally mutters under his breath. So he called me something silly.


    ¡°Oi! Young lad¡± He had yelled.


    I''m not really young looking, but I feel like I''m younger than before, so it''s what came next that has him currently watching me like a Sav-hawk.


    ¡°Oh!? I''m a lad? So I''m young? Younger then what? How old do you think I am? No! Rather, tell me how old do I look?¡± I had bombarded him with questions.


    Yup. I''ll admit I might say stupid things.


    But Sav, there was no reason to have had those wide eyes, okay? I just have no idea what my physical age is. Same with mental age.


    My spiritual age is probably around 2 or 3 months, I think? Between all the things that have happened, and my spotty focus, I''ve lost the exact count.


    That''s a lie, I think I stopped counting around day two or three.


    Hehe, my bad.


    ¡­


    Ahem.


    So Sav has really been watching me now.


    Must be boring for him, all I do is puke.


    Oh excuse me, I''ve just received yet another appointment.


    What''s that saying? It''s one of my favorite sayings, because I''m the one who is about to say it.


    Hmm... ah, I''ve got it!


    My stomach runs my schedule.


    ---


    Sav


    On a boat.


    He be right trickin'' me, certain.


    First he was messin'' with me, takin'' his time takin'' off them Sealers, and now he has me spooked that he''s a Spirit Stealer.


    How else would a man get to be old while in a young man''s body? It''s not natural, certain.


    He was barely hidin'' how happy he was when I called him ''Young Lad'', tryin'' to get me to admit ''is thieving of Spirits has done a right good job of makin'' ''im youthful.


    Blast him.


    It''s ''is fault I called ''im young. He ain''t young lookin'', I know, but after the Sealers were off his eyes lit up again. He had been boundin'' around the boat just like a child. Until he started pukin'', that is.


    I was right happy about ''im pukin''. Blasted Magekin.


    Where is all that comin'' from? He''s been at it a while now.


    Worse, He''s givin'' that grin again, this time down towards the water. Probably wants to steal some poor fish''s Spirits.


    That grin of ''is leaves my spine cold, certain.


    Oh, he''s lookin'' here. He knows I''ve caught ''im when ''is guard is down.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    That''s right, you Blasted Magekin, I''ll be watchin'' you careful-like.


    Now he''s doin'' the grin again. His aim isn''t me but somewhere behind me.


    His unfocused eyes are probably pickin'' which of my Spirits he''ll eat first.


    Blast him, I won''t give ''im a chance. If he tries somethin'' he''ll be sorry.


    I''m no easy prey, certain.


    ---


    Wilson, wonderful as usual.


    Upper City Docks.


    I''m keeping things under control. The things that make me strange.


    It''s not as hard as it was before to stay even-keeled, since I''m off of the boat.


    Okay, that was a pun, so that means I''m not totally fine. I''m keeping the things under reasonable control.


    The puking had forced me to stay still and all I had time to do was think. I have since realized that if I severely limit my movements and focus on breathing deeply, I can get some clarity into my addled state.


    It doesn''t really help because we''re on the move at the moment. Wherever we''re going next apparently needs us to guided by some guards.


    Why doesn''t this sound good?


    All the ideas I had about what could go wrong in the Upper City are pushing into my head, and the clarity is being forced out to make room.


    I''m starting to worry.


    Why?


    No, why?


    What?


    Why am I worried?


    I can''t imagine being worried when I feel great again.


    Bah, that bout of barfing was really bad.


    I''m following Sav-hawk, which my new favorite name for him, but he''s been talking to a strangely dressed man who was writing things down. We''ve finally been released from dealing with the dock managers, and now we have to deal with even more paper-pushers.. The dock managers wanted us to help confirm that the crew of that boat had gone missing, and we hadn''t seen any of them as we came in to dock.


    What does it have to do with us? I don''t even care, go ask someone that would actually know.


    Like those guards over there that are patiently watching us.


    Hmm?


    I spot a familiar face.


    ¡°Hello there!¡± I shout, happily waving my arm, walking over towards the face.


    I''m happy to see this face, I''m even happier that I didn''t trip over myself or stutter.


    Why?


    Because it''s Lady Guard, she''s here with another guard that I don''t recognize. I wonder what she''s doing here?  I wonder if she''ll tell me?


    Wait, how did she get here before us?


    It doesn''t matter, I''m really excited to see a familiar face.


    It''s the first time that I''ve ever seen a face again. I''ve seen faces, sure, but now I''m seeing a face that I''ve seen before. I''m feeling nostalgia for something of this world for the first time. It''s a nostalgia that isn''t underpinned by loss and self-pity. It''s wonderful. It''s beautiful! It''s terrific!!


    This kind of nostalgia is itself nostalgic.


    Ah.


    Now I''m sad again. I''ve felt this nostalgia before, but I''ll never know when, where, how or why.


    Ugh.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± a soft voice questions me.


    She must be really concerned about me. I had stopped halfway to her but she had crossed the remaining distance and was currently looking at me with a slight tilt of head and a small lift of eyebrows.


    On my side, I get to take a better look at her concerned face. She''s a pleasant looking lady. That''s all I''ve got. I''ve other problems.


    Stopping midway to her was a happy accident. I''ve regained enough sense not to say what I was about to.


    I almost proposed to her on the spot.


    That would have been troubling. Even worse, it would have been embarrassing. I don''t even know if I find her attractive yet. Rather, I don''t even know what I find attractive at all. I know nothing about her. Why am I so stupid?


    I think it was just a random whim that the first female I found was the one that was fated for me. That seems like something my stupid brain would come up with on the spot, and this stupid body would act on without hesitation.


    ¡°Ahem.¡± she clears her throat to get my attention.


    Right, I never gave her a response.


    ¡°Yes, yes. Of course I am alright.¡± I had to look away and pretend to have been called by Sav. It wasn''t hard, he has been calling to me this entire time.


    ¡°Good. Then please wait with Sav while he finishes signing you both in.¡± She gave me a professional smile and a short nod then stepped back into her position beside the other guard.


    I''m stunned. She wasn''t concerned about me after all. She''s just giving me a cool stare from   where she stands. The distance between us is now physical and emotional.


    No! Give me back my would-be proposal! I regret calling you pleasant looking.


    Did she hear me?


    Did I say that out loud!?


    She''s slowly lifting her armored hand in the smallest of movements. Her index finger is unfurling from her closed fist. The tip of her finger reaches it''s zenith for just a moment before she slices it through the air towards it''s intended target.


    It''s pointing at Sav.


    Her eyes are telling me one thing.


    Get moving.


    ¡­


    Yes Ma''am.


    ---

 Chapter 9 – Out of the frying pan, and into the spire.

    Authors Corner


    I won''t grow as a writer if I don''t get any criticism, so any feedback is welcome.


    Thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 9 ¨C Out of the frying pan, and into the spire.


    Wilson, the meek.


    Climbing through the Upper City.


    We''ve been diverted for the second time.


    I''ve been quietly following along, so quietly that even Sav is surprised. He''s even in a good mood. I think I just heard him hum.


    Which makes me want to ruin his day. I think joining it would be the best possible harassment, but I don''t know the tune. His joy is making my knuckles itch.


    They''ve itched worse before, so I won''t satisfy them. I''m in relative control. No, I''m in control. I''m in control. I''m ¡­ in ¡­ control.


    Repeating it helps.


    It''s not helping that wherever we are going is taking forever to get to. I''m getting bored of going up the roads to a set of gates, entering, then descending again to another set. There is only so much architecture I can take interest in, especially the gated kind. We just keep going towards and away from mostly identical gates. How many walls and checkpoints does this city have? It looks orderly from afar, but it''s even more of a labyrinth than the Lower City. If I didn''t have the easily irritated Sav here, I''d think they are leading us around for fun. I''m hoping Sav will say something if this keeps up any longer. I don''t want to make Lady Guard mad with me.


    ¡°Oi, what''s the idea? We just backtracked, certain.¡± Sav demands of Lady Guard.


    Sav, are you psychic? Thank you. Of course you''d notice that we''ve backtracked, you''re a hunter or something. I think.


    ¡°We''ve had a few issues in the Upper City¡± Lady Guard replies shortly. She doesn''t seem to want to elaborate. She just waits for us to follow her down a dimly lit corridor in one of the fortifications we''ve just entered for the second time.  It will lead us to some other gate, I''m sure. I''m liking Lady Guard less and less.


    Sav just goes back to being silent, which is his usual, and then starts watching her suspiciously, which is also his usual.


    I like that Sav is on my side for once. I know that he isn''t specifically rooting for me, it''s just nice to have his scrutiny diverted for a while. Who knows how long it will last, so I''m planning on enjoying it.


    I can move absurdly fast and it''s hard to see in this lighting.


    In only a breath, I steal an unlit sconce from the wall as we walk past and shove between the layers of my robe. The robe creepily reacts and latches onto the sconce, holding it between it''s layers.


    Okay... That''s a fun, yet disturbing feature. This magical robe is weird.


    Regardless, I feel a lot better having metal weapon that I can throw or club people with.


    Actually, wait a moment, this isn''t metal.


    It''s the mysterious dark wood.


    Taking a quick look around to make sure no one notices me, I move part of my outer robe aside and squint at it. I try dragging my fingernail across the surface of the wood. It leaves a scratch, but this is the same fingernail that can scratch metal, so I''m not really impressed. From the effort it took, I can tell this wood is just as strong as metal, and from holding it I can tell it''s many times lighter. It''s definitely a superior material.


    Not like the material really matters to me, I only care about it''s killing potential.


    I''m glad I lost interest, because as I pulled my robe back to cover the sconce, Sav finally turned around to check on me.


    I guess you remembered me after all, Sav. I''m thankful. I thought I had lost you to Lady Guard forever.


    Speaking of Lady Guard, she had obviously heard something important from the messenger that just passed by. We had to go back a few steps and take a turn down an even darker hallway.


    Is this the crappiest part of the fortress, or are we taking some secret path?


    We turn another corner and then start climbing stairs. These stairs are hugging against the softly curved wall and they keep curving around and around as we ascend. After climbing for a few minutes, we finally reach the top. This must be one of the spires of the fortress we''ve been climbing. I''ve had glimpses of the city during the ascent. It sure is beautiful from way up here.


    I''m overjoyed that I''m not stuck somewhere with a bunch of heavy walls, in case I have to escape, but I''m starting to get the feeling like we''re not going to be meeting the person I thought we were. I put my hand inside my robe and lightly get a grip on the sconce.


    Sure, it''s a feeling with no proof. I''m going to listen to it though.


    It''s intuition.


    ---


    Phillius Oakbard; Head City Planner of Gol-ta.


    Elsewhere in the Upper City


    I''m shuffling along the corridors of the Inner Court. I''m not as young as I used to be, but it isn''t that. I''m taking my time reading over reports that my subordinates brought me. There is trouble in my territory.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Trouble. Hmm.


    I''m going to crush it. There is no profit to be had from rash action, so I going to wait until I can see the whole problem before I sever it at the neck.


    The details I''m reading making it fairly obvious what is happening. I had heard reports a while ago that two nearby city-states were warring, but I never thought that it would escalate this much. Their spies have started killing each other right here in my city, which is a neutral area. Normally, this would only cause me mild amusement, but since most of the spies are in the Upper city, it''s causing chaos. If they think that my reputation for neutrality is exploitable, they would be mistaken. My neutrality only means I''m even handed in my punishment. Both sides will regret bringing their problems here.


    I hate chaos.


    I don''t have to worry about the spies themselves because my staff can easily handle the cleanup. It''s what I trained them for. I''m having them go so far as to comb through the identities of the deceased spies. The chance is very low that I''ll find any useful inconsistencies, but it doesn''t matter. I''ll take every edge that is freely offered to me.


    It''s a brief respite, reminiscing that people have always unknowingly given me slivers of power. I''m happy thinking that my careful collection of these tiny daggers has caused all my enemies over the years to slowly bleed themselves out. One by one, they all fell down, wondering how it all went wrong.


    This alone makes my responsibilities as the Head of the city tolerable.


    What''s currently causing me frustration is the mass relocation of important people and offices in the Upper City.  The relocation includes me. The guards are finishing helping me clear out my office. Everything I will need for the next few days piles up to a considerable amount of boxes, all of which are in the process of being moved to the newly constructed temporary office on the other side of the Court. They are trying to bring my furniture, but I don''t care about any of it except for my family heirloom, so I order them away. I don''t have the time to spare to wait leisurely while my office is relocated, so I''m having to do paperwork and read reports while following the guards across the Inner Court.


    I hate having to move.


    The collar of my gray vest is scratching away at my skin. The light makes reading hard on my eyes. The heat of the sun is unpleasant. I want to sit at my desk with a cool drink and read the reports in relative peace.


    One of the messenger boys nearly bumps into me as he runs by, scattering a couple of my papers. He didn''t even slow down enough for me to reprimand him.


    I''ve had enough of this.


    ¡°You there, find the closest room with a view, if it''s occupied, kick them out. Also, bring along my desk and chair as well as that box.¡± I start pointing out my items to one of the guards.


    ¡°Yes, sir¡±


    They don''t waste any time on pleasantries. They''d better not, wasting time isn''t what I pay them for.


    After he finishing conversing with his senior, he rushes over to grab the box.


    ¡°Follow me, sir¡±


    I follow him for only a few minutes before we end up at a room with a pleasant view.


    ¡°You can put the desk anywhere, just hurry up¡± I''m getting impatient.


    The train of guards that were behind me come in a set down my desk and chair to face the door. The moment after they''ve dropped everything off, I order them out.


    ¡°Fetch me a cold glass of water and don''t let anyone bother me unless they have an appointment.¡± I instruct them on their way out.


    Easing into my chair, I lean back and enjoy the quiet for a brief moment.


    Much better.


    I don''t have more time than that, so I lean forward and wipe the specks of dust off my desk.


    Then I slowly begin to spread out my paperwork, running my finger along each page as I do so, to pick up where I left off. One of the servants comes in with the cold water I asked for.


    Much better, indeed.


    I shake off my second moment of relaxation, and get back to work.


    I only have time to go through a score of pages before I hear a knock at the door.


    My guards had clear instructions about disturbing me, and they better than to disobey, so that knock means I can finally rectify one of the other disturbances in this City.


    I take my time to rise from my chair. I have to greet the cause.


    I love new assets, so it won''t be hard dusting off my smile.


    ¡°Enter.¡± I finally say.


    The door opens and people make their way in. One in particular is the one I''ve wanted to talk to.


    ¡°Hello, esteemed Mage, and welcome to the city. I''m the Head City Planner, Phillius Oakbard. I wouldn''t be surprised if you didn''t know me by my past profession, because Sav, being uncivilized, refuses to refer to me in any other way.¡±


    ¡°He calls me the Merchant.¡±


    I hear a hollow thud.


    I look to see what it was.


    Why is there a sconce on my floor?


    ---

 Chapter 10 – Lets Skip Over the Candlestick.

    Authors Corner


    Answers and even more questions this time. Let me know if you find it confusing. As usual, please leave comments, feedback or questions below.


    Thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 10 ¨C Let''s Skip Over the Candlestick.


    Wilson, the shocked


    Up in a spire, brain on fire.


    I''m shocked.


    I''m still shocked. The shock was so great that my hand had let go of the glorified candlestick I had been holding. Good. Fine. I don''t think it would have really helped in my current situation.


    The bland looking man in gray that is scrutinizing me is the Merchant I''ve kept imagining being sold to.


    No, correction, according to him he''s not even a merchant anymore.


    He''s something far worse.


    He''s a person of power in this city. I just dropped a sconce on his floor. Maybe I should pretend I''m confused about it as he is.


    As he''s watching me and waiting for my response, I stare at the sconce then contort my face into confusion. Then I slowly raise my head to stare at the ceiling, as if I expect to find more sconces there. When I don''t, because there is nothing there, I tilt my head as if it''s not what I had expected.


    Mission accomplished.


    I just hope this will be enough to let us skip over an awkward conversation.


    I bring my head back down shaking away my feigned confusion. The man has an indifferent look on his face. Looks like I get a pass on my performance.


    Sav has begun talking. I don''t think he had noticed the sconce. Weren''t you supposed to be a hunter, Sav? What happened to keeping a close watch on me?


    Now that I think about it, Sav, you''re beginning to be one of my least favorite people.


    What have you been saying throughout our journey here? Some nonsense about taking me to a merchant. I''d be happy if it were a merchant. A merchant doesn''t hold nearly as much of the intangible power of politics that these fists of mine can''t reach. To surmount that kind of power I''d need to defy reality itself. This body is amazing, but only magic would suffice. Big magic that makes politics plots involving thousands of soldiers pointless.


    Yes, magic. Something I have none of.


    Sav, why were you saying all of this? I know it sounds strange coming from me, but is there something wrong with your head?


    ¡°Oi, I''d call you Phillius Oakbard if it weren''t no mouthful, or maybe if it didn''t make you sound right pleasant. Same with your title. It''s pleasant, up until you go look for other Planners. There be no higher position in the city than yours, certain. I''ll be not givin'' my hand to help you higher.¡± Sav has been explaining his behavior while I''m considering punching him after all.


    That''s not the explanation I want, damnit.


    Sav. This is the longest amount of strung together coherent words I''ve ever heard from your mouth. Why couldn''t I have heard an explanation of similar length about my circumstances until now? I have nothing to go on.


    My situation isn''t looking good.


    I''ve been brought to meet the head of the city. I''m not being sold, it turns out. It''s both reassuring and scary at the same time. I have no idea what I''m doing here, aside from the fact that this man wanted to meet me. The stakes have risen, but the dice have not yet been cast.


    I''m feeling a bit of an itch in my knuckles, and maybe my right eyelid is acting up.


    I''m holding back my smile as best I can. What can I say? Gambling sounds like fun.


    ---


    Phillius Oakbard


    As the Mage and retinue walk in, I notice that he is ordinary, for a Mage. This doesn''t quite match with my limited experience with Mages. The ones I''ve met are either ugly or inhumanly attractive. I have a theory about why that is, but I keep it to myself. The would probably find it offensive.


    This man in front of me is almost nondescript. His face is entirely average, but his body is oddly fit for a Mage and his Ethul would stand out immediately. The shifting mottled flowing robe mark him clearly as a Mage, but the colors are all wrong. I can see why they caused a disturbance coming through the Lower City.


    I''ve never heard of any living Mage, nor any legend, nor any fiction describe a robe that has such ugly colors. Ethuls always have bright vibrant colors or in rare cases they can be colored like the precious metals. That has always been the case. What Mage would ever pick such ugly colors in the robe they are bound to for the rest of their life. A very strange one.


    Hmm.


    Aside from the minor disturbance in the city, it doesn''t really concern me. I see in front of me a Mage that doesn''t mind what others think. I can make use of that. Mages are hard to find, especially ones that are easy to deal with.


    This one is probably no more eccentric than a normal Mage. He dropped a torch holder when he came in. I have no idea why he was carrying it. It was one of the ones from the hall.


    From the display he''s putting on trying to pretend like it wasn''t him, I learn something. I take back what I said about his average looking face. It''s one of the most expressive faces I''ve ever seen. It''s the kind of face that always shows what it''s wearer is thinking. When he first came in his face was impassive, moments later it was fiendish, before passing looking worried on the way to hard thought. He currently looks satisfied with whatever he was thinking.


    This Mage seems to be a simpleton.


    He''s slowly started looking at the ceiling, after the worst attempt at subterfuge I''ve seen in a long time. There must be something wrong with his head. I have a guess as to what it is. Mages I''ve run across have explained the phenomena of Mana Corruption to me. It is apparently a side effect after rigorous training.


    During the performance I look over at Sav and raise an eyebrow.


    Sav is looking at me with a small smile. I recognize that expression on him. He''s gloating.


    I think I have an idea what''s going on. The Mage is mana-addled and since Sav hates Mages, even more than he hates everyone else, he didn''t bother explaining my intentions.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    I asked Sav to politely invite a Mage to talk to me, if he came across one whilst roaming. From the reports I received earlier, apparently Sav had the Mage chained up throughout the Lower City like some sort of animal in the back of his shoddy wagon.


    That''s clearly against my wishes, but I''ve known Sav for a long time, so this much is within my expectations. I had also expected that any Mage he came across would have killed him if he acted poorly. This one must be very lenient, which will fit nicely into my designs.


    While I''ve been calculating ahead, Sav has been tarnishing my name.


    I''ll have to clear up the misunderstandings if I want this Mage to be of any use to me. It will be tedious. Sav likes to show me the disadvantages of being as ruthless as I am. I don''t need to be shown, nor do I care. It''s more disadvantageous to have him act like this in front of my subordinates.


    I can tolerate this rudeness of his when I weigh it against how useful he''s been over the years, in both private and public matters. I won''t factor in personal feelings into decisions regarding city affairs, business is business, but this much is still a tolerable amount to let slide.


    He is looking rather smug after insulting me.


    I wish this Mage wasn''t so lenient.


    ---


    Wilson, the Amazing Actor


    The head city planner, Phillius, is observing Sav. His eyes are piercing.


    Sav''s amusement visibly wanes.


    The seconds drag on until Sav is fully wilted, all traces of good humor gone.


    The City Planner swivels his head back to look at me.


    ¡°If it wouldn''t be too much trouble, could I possibly have your name?¡± he asks dryly. He has a trace of a smile on his lips, but it''s too faint to be comforting.


    This isn''t good. The pressure is getting to me.


    ¡°A-ah. It''s Wil-s-s-son.¡± I reply weakly.


    I didn''t say anything strange. At least, I didn''t think so, but the City Planner has his eyebrows slightly raised. From what little I''ve seen of him so far, he''s definitely curious.


    ¡°Wil Son is it? I didn''t know any Mages followed Heram.¡± he says, but immediately corrects himself. ¡°Ah sorry, that was rude of me.¡±


    ¡°Heram? N-no I don''t think I d-do.¡±


    His eyebrows lower back down. Apparently that answer satisfied his curiosity.


    Wait, did he say Mage?


    ¡°If I might ask, W-why are you calling me a mage?¡±


    It''s a good question.


    Why is everyone in the room, with the exception of Lady Guard, staring at me? Lady Guard just looks like she doesn''t care at all, I''m not sure the words even registered. She has that whole soldier impassive vibe going on. Probably doing her grocery list or something.


    Focus. Focus. Focus.


    ¡°Well, you are wearing an Ethul, are you not?¡±


    ¡°E-thul?¡±


    ¡°Yes, the robe you are wearing is a Mage robe, is it not?¡±


    I look down at my robe. My magical robe.


    Magical.


    I''ve heard confirmation for the first time. A lot of things click into place in my head. A tiny rush of giddiness goes through me. I have a magical item, it''s a magical robe. Part one of my wizard ensemble is complete.


    Wait, I''m in conversation with a scary man.


    Focus. Focus. Focus.


    ¡°Y-y-y-yes, n-now that you mention it, this robe is m-magical.¡± I say, dodging having to lie. Not like I have a problem with lying. I just think this man would notice.


    I think he picked up on it.


    ¡°I''ve never met such an interesting Mage before, I''m thrilled to have the chance. Would it be possible to see one of your spells?¡± he asks.


    He''s obviously lying, he didn''t sound enthusiastic at all. Just more of the same dry voice. He''ll keep harassing me nicely until I show him magic. I really need to make connections, and this is my chance. If I mess this up he''ll probably kill me.


    I''m trapped. I just wish the deciding factor wasn''t magic. I have to show him something though. Alternatively, I could punch him and escape, but I don''t think it''d end well for me. He looks like the type that could kill you from his grave.


    I don''t have magic. I only have one thing, and that''s my useless bubbles. I don''t want to use them, but I don''t have anything else. Punching things is too pedestrian to be magical.


    My bubbles aren''t magic, my intuition tells me. Maybe I''ll make them as flashy as I can, and that will be enough?


    This man doesn''t sound like he knows much about magic either, so maybe he won''t notice.


    ¡°A-any magic is fine?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Of course, I''d be honored no matter what you showed me.¡± he says, once again with a dry voice.


    Nodding my head in affirmation, I just summon as many bubbles as I can around me. I make them form the same cloth-like mesh and brought them closer to my body. It''s what I had in mind for a prototype disguise. Thousands of small bubbles gather and then hang around my body. I think the effect is not bad for a first attempt, except the fact that the bubbles distort my vision as well.


    After clearing the bubbles around my eyes, I observe my audience.


    Sav''s jaw is open and his eyes are wide. The other guards except for Lady Guard have similar reactions.


    Lady Guard isn''t even looking. She''s probably calculating yearly taxes behind that professional face.


    What about the City Planner?


    ¡°What a wonderful display of magic.¡± he says, voice still as dry as ever. ¡°If I may be so forward, I have a task that I would greatly appreciate your help with. I was hoping you could help me deal with some trees.¡±


    Oh. That''s bad.


    This man is scary indeed. Is he psychic? Is he probing my memories right now?


    No, it might be possible in a magical world, but I think that it''s unlikely.


    ¡­


    But it makes me wonder.


    How does he know my favorite hobby?


    ---

 Chapter 11 – Tree Hugger for Hire.

    Authors Corner


    Notice: No chapter tomorrow. I don''t think I''ll have time.


    Please leave comments, feedback, or questions below. I appreciated all the replies last chapter.


    As always, thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 11 ¨C Tree Hugger for Hire.


    Wilson, the pointlessly poetic.


    I love trees.


    I love the way the bark splits under the weight of my swing. I love the dusty aroma of sawdust in the air. I enjoy the way broken branches fly through the sky.


    Punching trees is art. I am an artist.


    The artistic soul of mine is a blessed soul. One that gets to engage in creating this wonderful art, to fulfill the toils of living.


    ¡°Excuse me, Wil, is it? Are you perhaps interested?¡± he interrupts my train of thought. I think my grin might have been showing.


    ¡°Y-yes, I was just considering it for a moment.¡± I say, not fooling anyone.


    ¡°Ah, completely understandable, of course. Was there anything....¡± he lets the question trail off.


    Think, Wilson. If I were actually an Esteemed Mage, what would I say.


    ¡°B-before I agree to hear more, w-what will be my compensation?¡± I hope this is safe territory.


    ¡°I''m sorry to say that I don''t have the curios Mages normally desire. I do have gold coins, however.¡±


    Curios? What curios are those? He''s an expert at not divulging information, it would seem. Perhaps he''s trying to avoid troublesome requests.


    ¡°Would that suffice? We can certainly discuss specific terms, if you would like.¡± he continues on while I''m thinking. I have no idea what decent terms would be, so I''ll pass commenting for now.


    ¡°Ah, no, I was just w-wondering. What exactly is involved in your r-request?¡±


    ¡°Excellent, excellent. Well then, you most likely know of fleetingwood, I assume.¡± he says while pointing at the sconce with a small smirk.


    Oh. The dark mystery wood is called fleetingwood.


    ¡°I''m proud to say that this fair city is one of the largest producers of fleetingwood in all of the Free States. It doesn''t produce very much, but every piece is incredibly valuable, as I''m sure you know.¡± he says with the tiniest trace of pride leaking through his dry voice before pausing. The pause is presumably to wait for my awe.


    Hah! I have none.


    ¡°Ahem. As such, it is one of our most profitable exports. Additionally, a large amount of commerce in the city derives from the fleetingwood industry.¡± he says, mildly disappointed at my lack of amazement.


    ¡°I see.¡± I say, I''m not really following what this industry has to do with me.


    ¡°Now, I''m not sure if you''re aware, but the fleetingwood trees are just like their namesake.¡±


    Trees. I like trees.


    ¡°H-how''s that?¡± I ask.


    ¡°The trees flee from any attempt to fell them.¡±


    Trees that flee? I''m liking this more and more. Wake up, O fists of mine. It sounds like you have work to do.


    ¡°I see.¡± I say while trying to downplay my enthusiasm.


    ¡°Yes, well, we''d be obliged if you could render us your aid.¡±


    Ok. This is awkward.


    I am back to not knowing what he is talking about.


    ¡°W-what did you have in mind?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Well, from your earlier demonstration, I''d expect you''d burn them with fire magic. They don''t burn well under regular fire, but Mage Fire should be hot enough to bring the trees down.¡±


    ¡°F-fire magic?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that magic earlier was the branch of fire magic, heat magic, was it not?¡± he asks, looking puzzled for the very first time.


    I have to lie. I''ll have to risk it. I can run away after I get out of here.


    ¡°Ah, y-y-yes.¡± I mumble.


    ¡°I''m truly sorry if this is a difficult subject. I don''t mean to pry. I only ask because I''m out of options. We used to have a few warriors with mana resistance that were able to hunt down the trees, but they are no longer around.¡±


    Warriors? I don''t have magic, but I''m pretty sure I can kill a few fleeing trees with my body. I probably can''t punch them, but I can crush them at the their base with my arms. Thinking about giving trees a death inducing hug makes me joyful.


    Wait. Focus.


    ¡°Mana resistance?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I was just about to explain that. The trees grow in a mana grotto with an extremely high mana concentration. We have many warriors that could harvest the trees otherwise.¡±


    Interesting. I think I''ll take the job. Regardless of success, I''ll get to learn more about this world. If it seems too hard when I get there, I''ll just run away. I''m confident in my feet.


    ¡°I''ll take the job.¡± I say abruptly.


    ¡°Good, good. I know it''s asking too much, but could you possibly harvest some fleetingwood by the end of the week?¡±


    ¡°I should be able to.¡± If I can''t I''ll just run away, after all.


    ¡°I''m truly in your debt. Speaking of which, as for payment...¡± he trails off again, this time his eyes take on a predatory glint. I can see while Sav still calls him a merchant. I have a feeling I''ll get the bad end of any deal I make with him when it comes to money.


    Not like I need money anyways. Since the manacles are off I don''t need to worry about shelter, food or water. Speaking of manacles, I''ve an idea.


    ¡°We can discuss it later, I''m sure you''ll offer me a fair price. I only have a couple requests in the mean time.¡±


    My words make the man suddenly ooze caution.


    ¡°I see. What might those requests be?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn''t mind an advance to cover my living expenses.¡± I say sheepishly, knowing I don''t have any living expenses. I just want money so that I am not as dependent. Rather than what I expected, the man''s caution fades.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°I normally don''t loan money... but for an esteemed Mage such as yourself I can indeed make allowances.¡± he says dryly. ¡°As for the second request?¡±


    ¡°I''d like the manacles Sav had me put on for the ride here.¡±


    The City Planner''s head jerked and then locked onto Sav.


    ¡°Sav... You. Put. Manacles. on a Mage?¡±


    His voice was suddenly full of power yet quiet and crisp. There was no diffident merchant left.


    Scary, scary.


    Sav who had been quiet after his last run-in with the Planner, started to look frightened.


    ¡°He was right feral, he was. I ''ad to put the Sealers on ''im in case he hurt someone.¡± Sav rebutted in a whisper.


    ¡°Sealers!? Unlike your silly superstitions tell you, Mages are NOT mana corrupted humans. They do NOT need to be treated like beasts. I did not ask you to treat our guest this rudely. Leave here at once, and leave the Mana Sealers behind.¡± the City Planner says in a voice that fills the room.


    Sav looks like he is about to argue, but then instead thinks better of it.


    He whips around to glare at me before taking the manacles out and throwing them on the floor at my feet.


    With one more worried glance at the City Planner, he storms out.


    As I reach down to pick up the Mana Sealers, I think for a moment.


    I like that Sav was put in his place for making my life overly complicated. But he is the first human I''ve ever met in this life. I''d really like to ask him why he made me wear these manacles called Mana Sealers though. I''m conflicted.


    ¡°I must apologize for his rude behavior, Wil. I''ll happy add those Mana Sealers onto your payment as an offering of good faith. On top of that, I''ll personally pay for your inn, there is a wonderful one that I think you''ll enjoy. It''s the best in the city.¡± he says, settling back into his dry voice. He does it so smoothly that I wonder if his anger was all just an act to make Sav part with the Mana Sealers for free.


    He must have been a great merchant.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I reply.


    ¡°The only remaining matter is finding you a guide. You are probably familiar with Anilea here, so I''ll have her guide you around the city and have her show you the inn first. She can also take you to the Mana Grotto once you''ve had a chance to settle in.¡±


    So her name''s Anilea. It''s a nice name.


    This merchant is cunning, using her like this. He must have noticed that I''ve been glancing at her. He''s sending a guard off with me to make sure I don''t run off with the money, and making it seem natural because it''s someone I''m acquainted with. He was definitely a great merchant.


    He doesn''t give me a chance to compliment him.


    ¡°I''ve been so honored by your presence, I can see I have taxed your delightful patience with my endless blathering and my subordinates rude behavior, so I''ll let you enjoy this fair city without bothering you any more. Anilea will guide you from here. Once again I appreciate your consideration.¡± he says. The words weren''t even out of his mouth before he sits down and starts going through his papers.


    He managed to dismiss me by insinuating that I should be tired of him. I could learn a thing or two from this man.


    Lady Guard is staring at me.


    Stop it, Anilea, we were only acquainted a moment ago. If you stare that hard into my eyes, I''ll blush, you know? Hahahaha.


    Stop.


    Now that this stressful job interview is over with, I''m unwinding too much.


    Focus. Focus. Focus.


    I am now the proud owner of a pair of Mana Sealers. Should I use them?


    ...


    No, not yet. I don''t have the courage to be by myself with a woman without the thrum of the world running through me. Speaking of the thrum, when did I become so lucid? I barely feel giddy at all. My stutter is gone again. Maybe it''s because I''ve had time to stand still?


    ...


    Lady Gu- Anilea is doing the lethargic finger pointing gesture again. I''ve seen that before, Anilea. Don''t you recognize me? I''m the same person you did that to not even a few hours ago. Haven''t you heard what I''ve been through? Can''t you cut me some slack?


    Her eyes are piercing me.


    Ok, I''ll go, I''ll go.


    I just wish it wasn''t so quick.


    I''m being forced out the door, with most of my questions still held inside me. I don''t think this man is the right one to pester with the mundane. If I ask too many questions it sounds like he might have me killed.


    Haha. What am I, a spy?


    I shouldn''t laugh. I can imagine him dryly saying ¡°I''m terribly sorry, you just aren''t useful anymore.¡± before ordering a guard to dispose of me. He''ll do it as soon as he finds out how useless I am. He has that sort of aura. Anilea answers to him, so asking her the questions is just as unwise. She is probably too professional to answer them anyways.


    What to do, what to do?


    Now that I have acquired some capital I guess I can explore the city and perhaps find a nice person to explain to me the finer points of living here. Someone that won''t find it strange that I don''t know the names of any countries, people or even why there are two moons in the sky.


    I''ll complete the work this Phillius person has set out for me. I''ll make more money. I''ll try my best to gain a little influence.


    Build up a reputation.


    Make myself useful.


    Then I''ll come back before him. I''ll have more questions for someone like him then. Questions for someone with information. Questions that will help me determine my fate.


    I  hope that he can answer them.


    ---

 Chapter 12 – On the prowl, under a cowl.

    Authors Corner


    Questions, feedback, or something you need to vent about? Need a shoulder to cry on? Want help improving your jazz collection?  Leave a comment today for the very low price of absolutely nothing.


    Thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 12 ¨C On the prowl, under a cowl.


    Wilson, the fantabulously sober.


    Lost in the Lower City.


    Nighttime, moons high in the sky.


    I have a dilemma.


    I''m in the awkward space between reality and fantasy.


    Correction, I''m stuck between my own fantasies and my fantastical reality.


    As I gaze at the two moons, twirling about, the tickle of dancing intrigues my feet. My feet consent to the mystery and I begin my very own tipsy tango. I twirl about in counterpoint to the moons, holding my dance partner tight.


    I really should put the Mana Sealers on. I''d have to go back to the inn first though. I shouldn''t have left them.


    ...


    All of that can wait for later. I''m busy dancing with my new friend.


    My dance partner is a rather unfortunate man. I didn''t catch his name, so I''ve went ahead and named him Ted. I found someone that looked intelligent and enticed them with food and drink. One of the biggest shocks yet in my relatively short life is that I''m capable of getting drunk. It turns out that I can''t just will alcohol away. Every drunk in the history of everywhere wishes that they could. I guess that powers over sobriety weren''t included in my crappy package deal.


    ¡°I demand a refund!¡± I scream at the night sky. I wish my dance partner would share my sentiment.


    It''s regrettable, but the man has long since passed out.


    Getting drunk off of an absurd amount of alcohol was my plan to get this poor man to answer all my questions without remembering it the next day. I get answers, he gets a nice night and a wicked hangover. Win-win minus the hangover, I figured.


    Since getting drunk myself was not part of the plan, things turned awry when I reached the tipping point. Tipsy point. Tipsy tipping point... Did I give that server a tip?


    Whatever.


    I''m dancing across the rooftops, swinging the man around by his arms and leg. His head is lolling about, drool leaking everywhere. Gross.


    Dear moons, you gracious things, can you use your gentle light to guide me to the dance partner of my dreams?


    Wait. Why am I thinking of Lady Guard? Anilea! But she doesn''t even know I exist. I''m guess I''m still mad about earlier.


    ...


    Anyway, I''m glad I bought this wonderful black hooded cloak earlier, even if it was expensive. It''s technically dark gray, because I thought black would be too sinister, but under dim light it becomes black. Oh well, I''m only evil looking in the nighttime, I guess.


    ¡°Muhahahahaha!¡± I laugh into the night.


    The night does not answer back. There is nothing to be heard asider from the midnight din of the city.


    I really should put the Mana Sealers on.


    ¡­


    I''m glad about the cowl on this cloak because Ted here won''t point at me and yell ¡°It''s that weird Mage!¡± when asked in the morning why he has bruises shaped like hands all over his limbs. As I''ve danced drunk across the rooftops I''ve been tossing him in the air and clapping my hands. So far, I haven''t slipped, but I was close enough that he''ll wonder where the bruises on his toes came from.


    I''m drunk, okay? It''s not my fault, how could I expect it would be the one thing my body doesn''t deal with? I can''t control this body now, the weird ability to limit my strength to appropriate levels has gone haywire.


    I''ve left crushed roof tiles all across the wake of my waltz. The bruises on Ted''s limbs might be a worrying color.


    I''m too wild.


    I blame Anilea.


    It all started a few hours ago.


    ---


    Wilson, the confused.


    Being dragged to an inn.


    A few hours earlier.


    Anilea is dragging me around the place which I''ve heard called the Inner Court.


    After we were kicked out of the City Planner''s office, we winded through the confusing paths of this place and managed to arrive at the treasury. One of the treasuries, anyway. The Planner''s paranoia to make multiple hidden treasuries across the Inner Court definitely comes from his time as a merchant.


    Anilea had a brief chat with the treasurer. It was very brief. All she said was ¡°Here.¡± while offering an official looking document that she ferreted out from somewhere.


    The man was tedious and went over the document line by line. After having had satisfied his duties, he promptly handed over a small bag filled with gold coins. Anilea had taken it, inspected it herself and then handed it over to me.


    I looked inside it.


    Oooh, sparkly.


    My first currency. I plucked out a coin and was rubbing it greedily in my fingers when I felt a familiar female stare.


    Okay, I''ll put it away.


    The insides of my robe happily latched onto the gold. The mysterious magical item might be even more attached to gold than I am. It refuses to hold onto the Mana Sealers, which is understandable. I end up having to carry them around with me, I''m beginning to think that they weren''t the smartest thing to ask for.


    No, no. That''s not true. They have already been beneficial.


    I think it''s because I''ve been holding them that my most of my impulses have been quiet.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    It''s not the same as wearing them properly, but it''s enough to leave me feeling balanced.


    Maybe a little too balanced. I''m feeling pretty miserable being dragged around right now.


    Anilea said only ¡°Inn.¡± before heading off again from the treasurers, so I assume that''s where we are going. After a few final corners we exit the maze, known as the Inner Court, and come out midway down the Upper City. We are roughly where I had seen the colorful buildings while coming into the city.


    Anilea stops for a second of consideration and then just when I think we''re finally going to take a break, she turns and starts heading up the street. I follow along after her, loathing having to walk more, due to sheer boredom. I''m impressed by her stoic nature. It helps that I have a nice view...


    Not like there is much to see aside from armo-o-ocean... but it''s a nice view nonetheless.


    As I''m busy staring at h-¡­ the ocean, we come around yet another corner.


    There is an ornate mansion sprawling out in front of me.


    This better not be the inn.


    ¡°This is the inn.¡± mentions Anilea.


    It has a courtyard and two wings, and gardens all around it. It''s three stories high, with a carved stone facade. It has glass. I haven''t seen much glass here. I''m not sure but the handles to the massive doors might be made of gold. It''s way too fancy.


    ¡°This is the inn?¡± I ask Anilea, hoping it wasn''t so.


    ¡°This is the inn.¡± she says again, unperturbed by my accusatory tone.


    I don''t want to stay here. I was perfectly happy sleeping in piles of bloody purple sand, or in a back of a wagon. I guess I''m stupid for not wanting to stay in such a beautiful place. I don''t want to stay here, I''m definitely going to break something. Then the planner will kill me. I don''t want to die.


    She doesn''t give me time to protest. She breezes through the gilded doors and starts up a clipped conversation with the richly dressed man that I can only assume is the innkeeper.


    Crap, I need to buy some clothes other than this robe, or at least clothes I can wear over top of it. The brown and gray look is unique, but drab. I could get a haircut too. Wait, does my hair even grow? It''s as short and wavy as it was the first day I arrived. Spooky.


    Having finished her discussion with the man, Anilea turned around and locked eyes with me.


    ¡°He''ll take you to your room. I''ll meet you back here tomorrow morning to guide you around.¡± she said in one breath, before walking out the doors. I understand that it''s getting late, but she still pisses me off.


    Leaving me here with this innkeeper man.


    I demand better treatment.


    I look around. Everything is delicate and shiny. Very breakable.


    I demand worse treatment.


    ---


    Wilson, the procrastinator.


    Shaking off his troubles.


    Nighttime, moons high in the sky.


    I''m shaking off my intoxication with some more vigorous dance moves. It''s enough to break my out of my reminiscence.


    Every time I think about that fancy inn, I can''t relax. Living a stress free life sounds ideal. It''s part of my dream to be a proper studious wizard in a very unbreakable solid stone tower. When I build up stress or want some adventure, I would have the luxury of going out to kill dragons! If they exist! Ugh. I''ve been twirling around dreaming about it. I feel nauseous.


    I don''t want to go back tonight, maybe that is why I drank more than I should have. I realized I was getting drunk but kept drinking anyways, telling myself that Ted will talk more if I''m drinking along with him. Instead I think I was trying to drink away the inevitable; going back to sleep at the inn, then dealing with Anilea in the morning.


    The man who I thought was the innkeeper was a mere employee. He was condescending throughout my brief tour of the inn. I''m pretty sure he was trying to make me punch him. His smile was so fake and he kept bowing to me mockingly. I hate him. If I have to run away from this city, I''ll try to stop to say goodbye. I''ll give him a pleasant goodbye tap, maybe to his smiley teeth.


    Thinking about running away brings up the other words Anilea said to me. How she would guide me around. I think it means I''ll have to fight those trees. At least it''s a known enemy. I''ll have to figure it out when I get there. I''ve learned enough from Ted so far that I think I can survive on my own, as long as I keep this robe covered up.


    Speaking of Ted, I should probably bring him home before my sour mood causes him serious harm. A bad hangover and bruises can be explained away, but a dead person cannot. I don''t know where he lives, though, so maybe I''ll drop him where we met. Then I should stop wasting time and find a way home myself.


    It''s really late, and I''m quite drunk. So finding a boat back across the bay might prove difficult. I guess enough coins can solve that problem.


    I''ll run out of coins if I keep spending them like this.


    I still don''t have a plan to deal with the silly trees yet, aside from trying to punch them.


    I have nothing but troubles.


    Not much I can do, especially while drunk.


    Since I''m shaking off my worries, I''ll shake some more and give Ted a shake too. If he wakes up perhaps I can shake him down for some information.


    Oops.


    Maybe I shouldn''t shake that much.


    Ted, are you alright?


    Ted!?


    ---

 Chapter 13 – Im down on my knees.

    Authors Corner


    Thirteenth chapter. Thirteen is an ominous number.


    Such a thought made me think to remind you all to check the genres of this fiction. All of them are warranted.


    Anyway, I''ve caught up somehow, so you get another chapter. Enjoy!


    <hr />


    Chapter 13 ¨C I''m down on my knees.


    Wilson.


    Hungover.


    Next morning.


    Anilea showed up as early as possible. She waited until I woke up before torturing me with a tour, which is nice. Her current torture is dragging me around again in circles seeing places I''ve already had a chance to look at last night. I have a hangover, if I take another turn I might spew. I shouldn''t complain when I think of how poor Ted ended up. Ted shouldn''t complain either, at least he''s alive.


    I can barely say the same, this hangover is so bad. I''ve stumbled upon a funny prank pulled on me by that bastard upstairs. It turns out that holding onto the Mana Sealers makes the hangover worse. I don''t see how mana could cure hangovers by itself, but I''m holding the proof inside a pocket of my new cloak.


    This means I have to choose between erratic behavior or an erratic stomach. Obviously I chose erratic behavior. The choice I wish I could have taken was going back to sleep. That annoying inn employee came to wake me up. To be helpful, he said, because Anilea was waiting for me.


    Helpful to who!?


    I want to sleep. Please Let me sleep.


    ¡°This is where they make fleetingwood chairs.¡±


    I don''t caaare about chaaaairs. Let me sleeeep.


    Anilea is droning on in her soft voice and short clipped sentences. It''s making my drowiness worse.


    ¡°This is where they make armor for magic users.¡±


    I perk up from my stupor.


    ¡°Magic users?¡± I ask


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    One word answer. Seriously?


    ¡°Not Mages?¡±


    She tilts her head at my question. It''d almost be a cute expression if she wasn''t so spiteful.


    ¡°Mages included. They''re magic users.¡± she finally replies.


    Success.


    I already knew this piece of information from Ted, but I wanted to fact check. Finding out if I could get useful information out of Anilea was a bonus. Based on her indifferent attitude, I don''t think it''s wise to push my luck on that front.


    Anilea circles around throughout the remained of the Lower City. I really don''t think I needed to see this much of either section, but it''s nice to see them in the light of day. Now that I have less conspicuous clothes, I can get close to the shops and people without looks of surprise.


    Anilea had been rather unimpressed with this cloak though. She''s unimpressed about everything it seems, so no loss there.


    ¡°Is there anything else you''d like to see?¡± she asks, sounding rhetorical.


    I''m tempted to say yes, to see if I can bother her, but I honestly just want to be done with it. Despite my poor condition, I''m quite excited to see the fleeing trees. Everyone calls them Fleetingwoods, according to Ted. They are pretty close to town, sometime people see if they can catch one by accident.


    I''ll take an accidental catch myself at this point.


    ¡°No, let''s go find these trees.¡± I say.


    I know that I''ll regret it.


    ---


    Wilson, the neeeeds sleeeeep.


    Nearing the mana grotto.


    Anilea is at it again. She''s being a consummate professional.


    She is walking always just ahead of me. At a pace that makes it feel like I''m slowing her down.


    I am.


    It''s been a few hours since we''ve left, it''s almost afternoon now. My body isn''t in top condition, so little things like sore feet and humid heat are getting to me. I hope my condition is good enough to get my paycheck. In the meantime I''m taking care not to rush things.


    ¡°We''re getting close, would you like to take a break? I''ve heard Mages aren''t known to enjoy ¡­ physical activities.¡± she says. She''s pretending to just now notice how tired I am. I think I see a faint trace of suspicion on her face. Suspicion saying ''With a body like that how can you be tired?''


    Stop looking at me like that. Yes, I''m fit. No, I''m not faking it.


    ¡°I would, if you wouldn''t mind.¡± I reply.


    She nods and passes me the water that she pulled from nowhere. Is there a hidden compartment on that armor? I''ve ¡­ observed the armor very closely, and haven''t seen any sign.


    I don''t really need the water, and I''m not sure how my stomach will mind it, but I take it anyway and plop down on the ground.


    It''s actually good. It cools me down a bit. I''m almost grateful. Almost. If only I didn''t have to chase after trees now, I would be able to enjoy it.


    As I lean back and enjoy my break, I look up into the sky.


    Is it just me or is it somewhat teal?


    Oh. More things are adding up.


    I couldn''t find out anything from Ted about magic, but I''ll risk it to see if Anilea knows anything.


    ¡°The sky looks somewhat teal, doesn''t it?¡± I mention, trying to be a casual as possible.


    Anilea looks up from where she is standing and appears to consider it. Then she turns back to me and gives me a slight nod of her head.


    Okay. Next up.


    ¡°That means we''re getting close to the grotto?¡± I ask, trying to find my answers obliquely.


    She simply nods.


    That nod is enough. What I have suspected is likely to be true. Mana concentration makes the sky teal. When I first arrived, the sky was far more teal than this.


    Hmm.


    I put my hand into my pocket and start holding the bulky Sealers, just in case.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Am I using mana after all? Is it powering my body? Why doesn''t my hangover feel better? Will the Mana Sealers still work? All I have is more questions.


    Questioning everything won''t put coins in my pocket though.


    It''s tree punching time.


    ---


    Why-did-I-sign-up-for-this Wilson.


    In the grotto.


    Why did I sign up for this?


    Oh, that''s right, I need money. Money is important. If you have money, you don''t need to sign up for hunting trees.


    I''ve gone full circle. Why am I so stupid?


    More questions, like usual.


    ¡°So that''s them?¡± I ask the culprit of my angst.


    ¡°Yes.¡± she affirms.


    I''m looking at a tall, strangely plump tree walking around on its roots make mewling noises.


    Mewling noises.


    These oddly rounded trees are twenty or thirty meters high, and thankfully have no faces or mouths. Yet they make cute animal noises as if their were small and fluffy.


    ¡°Wooloo ¡­ loo?¡±


    Yes that.


    There is one really close to us. We''re crouched behind a low knoll peeking up to watch the trees, and this one is just on the other side. Anilea is waiting for me to kill it, placid as always. To her, it''s a foregone conclusion that I''ll destroy the thing making these adorable sounds.


    ¡°Will a regular sword cut these trees?¡± I ask her.


    ¡°Probably. It might chip the sword. The wood needs to dry before it becomes stronger than metal.¡±


    In my non-expert opinion, I believe punching will work.


    ¡°Woo loo-loo?¡±


    Is it calling to me? I feel like I can almost understand what it''s saying. I really don''t like the thought of punching something harmless. It doesn''t have a beard, and it isn''t harming me. I''ll have to spend a lot of effort to chase it down and murder it.


    What do I do?


    I know what I have to do, I just don''t want to do it.


    But I need money.


    ¡°How much did you say I get paid for each of these?¡± I ask.


    ¡°3 Gold.¡± she says, averting her eyes. It''s the first time I''ve seen her look anything close to bashful. I take it to mean I''m getting screwed on the amount. I don''t have any negotiating power, and I need the money.


    Fine. I''ll do it. For money. For my freedom.


    ¡°Can you hold these and stay here for a moment?¡± I say, giving Anilea my Mana Sealers.


    She shrugs and accepts them.


    The effect is ¡­ there is no effect. I''m confused. Wasn''t the teal sky causing me to run wild?


    I don''t get it.


    I guess I''ll have to deal with it as my ¡­ calmer self.


    I stand up and come over the hill. The tree notices me and it''s branches start waving rhythmically in the air, as if it''s saying hello.


    ¡°Woo! Woo! Wooooooo!¡± it exclaims. I think it''s excited to see me. My eyes start to moisten.


    It gets closer and closer.


    I feel it.


    Closer.


    Not sadness.


    Closer.


    Happiness.


    Closer.


    Anger.


    Close enough.


    I want to kill it. I want to kill it. I want to kill it.


    I can''t even think.


    I bark out a laugh as I slam my fist into it''s soft fleshy bark. A good half of it''s meter wide trunk splatters outward, covering the ground with pieces of bark and a viscous dark green sap.


    ¡°Woo loo... loo...¡± are it''s dying words. What a stupid tree. Hahahahaha.


    Why stop there? These trees are basically standing still. My body feels great.


    There''s another, it''s coming towards me. Perfect.


    I start running up to meet it, swinging my fists just like a child.


    Laughing all the way.


    ---


    WonderWil, the magnificent tree destroyer.


    Twenty-two trees later.


    The trees kept trying to approach me. Aren''t they supposed ¡­ to run?


    I''m confused. The confusion makes me stop for a moment.


    They''re running now, that''s for sure. Haha.. ha.


    It''s not as funny anymore, somehow.


    I feel tired. I want to sit down.


    My body is making it through to me. Telling me to stop.


    I need to stop.


    I need to put the Mana Sealers on and go back to the inn and have a nice sleep. Mana Sealers?


    Holding onto that thought, I immediately run back to Anilea and grab the Sealers from her. Why didn''t she tell me they try to hug you? It''s so much better when th-... Focus, Wilson, focus.


    I put the Sealers on one arm only. Ahhhhhhh.


    And with that I''m tranquil. I''m disgusted with myself at the same time.


    Disgusted.


    I''m covered in the sticky sap of the recently deceased.


    Anilea didn''t react to me grabbing the Sealers. She is just staring at me. This time it isn''t a subtle stare. She is wide-eyed. Her mouth is agape.


    She must be disgusted with me too.


    I tear my mind away from the dark place it''s heading towards. I focus on how sore I feel.


    So much running... I will never drink alcohol again. I miss my perfect body.


    I''m on the ground this time, puking again. There might be tears mixed in.


    I''m going to pretend that it''s due to the hangover... I have to...


    I''ve puked so much by now that my body is starting to weaken even more. I''m exhausted. That inn is sounding pretty nice right now.


    So, Anilea, I''m down on my knees,


    I''m begging you please,


    To go home.


    Woo loo... loo...


    ---

 Chapter 14 – Woo is me.

    Authors Corner


    Woo loo loo, part one of two.


    <hr />


    Chapter 14 ¨C Woo is me.


    Wilson.


    Still in the grotto.


    The Sealers cuffed on my own arm leave me with a firm grounding in reality. It''s awful.


    I''m trying not to think about the death that surrounds us. About the dying cries of those pudgy trees. About how my fists met bark and then met the soft bulging fleshy wood underneath. About how I popped their lives like they were bubbles. Ugh, bubbles.


    Bleghhh.


    I didn''t actually get to voice my desire to go home. I just stayed on my hands and knees until  my stomach laid it''s contents bare. Anilea was waiting for me, although she was standing a little further away than before. Anilea had swept up her expression of surprise in the span of a second. She went right back to her professional mode.


    Too late, Anilea. That moment is already engraved in my memory. I''m going to cherish it every time you''re cold to me, for my own private chuckle. Hehe... he. My hearts not in it though.


    While I''m lost in my own world, Anilea brings out a document and is studying it.


    ¡°W-what is that?¡± I mutter. My words make her stop and turn to look at me.


    ¡°I''m looking up the grades of all the logs so that the collection crew doesn''t forge the requests and swap it out with lower grade Fleetingwood.¡± she says. Instead of sounding disgusted, I think she''s impressed with me now that I''ve proven useful. She''s given me appropriate explanation for once.


    I''m not sure who I find more disgusting at this point, myself or her and her puppet master, the Merchant. They are ruthless about profit. The poor creatures in front of me are dead, and she''s looking at their corpses and only seeing gold coins. It sickens me.


    Bleghhh.


    ¡°If you don''t mind me asking, what was that?¡± she asks, without waiting to see if I minded.


    I did. It''s a conversation I was hoping to avoid.


    ¡°W-what do you mean?¡± I deflect.


    ¡°It''s just that I''ve never seen a Mage attack at close range. Everyone tends to avoid getting too close to the Fleetingwood before they are dead.¡±


    ¡°W-what?¡±


    ¡°It will flee unless you''re close enough to attack. Then it''s you who should flee. That''s why they are called Fleeing trees. You''re meant to flee before they grab you and drain your life away.¡± she takes her time and makes me feel very stupid. Ted never told me any of this.


    ¡°I never heard about that...¡± I defend myself.


    ¡°No one thought to mention it to a Mage, I''m sure. It''s common sense for a warrior that you wouldn''t approach a massive monster like these trees when your weapons will have almost no effect.¡± she further explains. Who is this helpful woman? Where did Anilea go?


    ¡°How did those warriors kill it then?¡±


    ¡°You just shoot fire arrows at them until they get worn out and die. It''s why they needed mana resistance for this grotto, it takes a long time to wear the monsters down.¡± That sounds like torture. Are these people fine with the haunting cries of these trees?


    ¡°I see.¡±


    I''m pretty angry right now. It would have helped to know any of this before. Actually, it makes sense. It''s my own fault I''m masquerading as a Mage.


    ¡°Why didn''t you just use your fire magic from afar?¡±


    Uh-oh.


    ¡°I w-was having a hard time focusing my fire m-magic, since they kept saying things.¡± I lie


    ¡°Saying things? What are you talking about?¡± she asks, perplexed.


    ¡°The trees! Why didn''t you tell me that they sound so adorable?¡± I spit out, vehement in my attempts to pass blame.


    ¡°Are you talking about how they creak in the wind?¡± she offers, even more confused than before.


    ¡°No! The Wooloo things they kept saying! Woo. Loo.¡± I''m almost shouting. Is she being dense on purpose? She''s staring at me without responding.


    ¡°WOO! LOO! LOO!¡± I''m shouting now. Now I sound like the trees.


    ¡°Wu..lu.. things? What are you talking about?¡± she says.


    ¡­


    ¡°The kept talking, saying woo and loo.¡± My voice is a whisper.


    ...


    ¡°Monsters don''t talk.¡± she says, sounding exasperated and eying me with suspicion.


    ¡­


    Monsters don''t talk?


    ¡­


    What?


    ---


    Wilson.


    Lying on his bed in his room.


    The next day.


    I didn''t find sleep reassuring as my head met pillow last night.


    I had the plump trees dancing in my dreams. The dream trees were trying to reassure me with soft Woos and tender Loos, telling me that everything would be okay. It made me feel atrocious. More than that, it was terrifying. They would caress me with their branches, willing me back to sleep. They would dance around, bouncing on their roots and show me that their souls were happy, wherever they went. I kept hearing the last phrase of the first dying tree every time sleep was upon me.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Woo... loo ... loo¡± I want to go home, it was saying.


    I kept being jolted awake by my own screaming. The screams might have turned into Woos and Loos at some point, I can''t know.


    Anilea seems to want to stay away from me now that she thinks I''m losing it. We came back in silence yesterday after the massacre. I think after my odd questions she began to distance herself from me. So much for Helpful Anilea.


    ¡°Please rest up.¡±


    Those were the last words I heard out of her. She looked far less indifferent than before. When we arrived at the inn, she gave me my payment then scampered off.


    The only good news in all of this is that I''m now pretty wealthy. I could rent this room for a few months with my profits.


    Yay...no, my heart''s not in it.


    I feel like the cost was too great. I paid a chunk of my soul and sanity and got a pittance in return. What kind of person will I become if I keep making this trade? Not one I''d care to meet. The worst part is how unhinged I had felt and still feel.


    One second I was deliberating killing it, and the next I had a maniacal urge to end that poor tree''s life. I couldn''t control the urge, and in the end I stood over the corpse and laughed myself silly. I have to wonder if that''s who I am. It was these kinds of thoughts that came along like villainous sidekicks to all my attempts at slumber. That and whispers of monsters that aren''t meant to whisper.


    I want to talk to someone. I don''t know who I can trust though. I''m paranoid, so it''s hard.


    ¡­


    Maybe the paranoia is part of it all? Part of the person the bastard god stitched together.


    That person that I know nothing about, me.


    ¡­


    Who... am I?


    ---


    Wilson?


    Hiding in his room.


    The day after that.


    I don''t want to leave my room.


    My boohoos are turning into wooloos. Woo-loo.


    I can''t remove the Mana Sealers, because in my haste I forgot to find out how. So they have become permanent jewelry for my left arm. I think it''s for the best, but it''s unbearable. The certainty that comes with taking them off is addicting. I just want to be Wilson again.


    Is that the real Wilson?


    Am I the real Wilson?


    Did the real Wilson need to eat? To drink?


    Why don''t I need to breathe?


    Am I ¡­ human?


    ---


    ?


    Hiding.


    The day after that.


    I''m more human now that I''ve removed that magical robe. I don''t deserve magic. Magic isn''t human is it? Is it normal here? Are humans normal here? I still don''t feel like a normal human. What is normal?


    I''m in real trouble here.


    ¡­


    Why am I here, anyway?


    Why am I here right now?


    Was...


    ¡­


    Was there even a bastard god?


    Bastard.


    Bastard!


    BASTARD!


    WHERE ARE YOU?


    WHY AREN''T YOU HERE!?


    YOU BASTARD!


    TELL ME WHY I''M HERE!


    ---


    ?


    ?


    ?


    Knocking.


    Knock. Knock.


    Who''s there?


    I don''t know the rest of that joke.


    I don''t know anything.


    ...


    I''m sorry for yelling. If only I hadn''t yelled. Maybe then I wouldn''t be living like this.


    ¡­


    Talking.


    Who is talking?


    Please talk to me. Tell me anything. Be my friend. Tell me nice things.


    ¡­


    I''m lonely, but I can''t go out. I can''t talk. I don''t know what to do.


    What do I say? What will they say? Will they ask me about myself? Who I am? Where I''m from? What I know about myself?


    What I am?


    ¡­


    ¡­


    What am I?


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Someone.


    Anyone.


    Is there anyone...


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Help.


    ---

 Chapter 15 – Hel-Loo? Is it me youre looking for?

    Authors Corner


    This chapter and the last were originally meant to be the same chapter. It was far too long though.


    Part two of two.


    Loo woo Loo


    <hr />


    Chapter 15 ¨C Hel-Loo? Is it me you''re looking for?


    Phillius Oakbard


    Irritating.


    Things aren''t working out according to my calculations. I have been orchestrating ''accidental'' meetings of the two factions currently warring in my city, but I haven''t been able to kill off as many spies as I would like. Conversely, I''m pleased that I''ve accounted for most of the agents in the city.


    The irritating part is that there were more agents than I had surmised. A few even weaseled into the Inner Court. I was surprised.


    I hate surprises.


    Hmm. The planning is satisfactory though. These kinds of surprises are expected, to an extent. It takes a flexible mentality to manage a city as hectic as Gol-ta.


    I''m flexible. My mind is anyways.


    I adjust, I observe, I adjust again.


    I just get a headache when the smooth operations in my city are disturbed by minor issues. It''s the minor issues that are the cause of this headache.


    The Mage had brought in a decent amount of product, but he is uncontrollable and his sanity is questionable. Anilea is dealing with it, but her performance has been unacceptable as of late. Sav is running around stirring up the Heramites. That''s the last thing I need.


    The Mage seems to be the root of the problem.


    Unacceptable. I''d fix this problem with my regular means, but the Mages are one group I''m not going to anger unless I stand to profit a country.


    I must be getting old. I would have never hesitated in the past.


    Speaking of being old, I should stretch, I''m getting cramps. I drag myself out of my chair.


    Hmm.


    This temporary office is too dry, too cold and too far from my staff. I suppose I should call it my main office now, over the last few days I''ve had everything moved over, for one reason or another. For efficiency I think I''ll keep it as my main office for a while yet.


    I shuffle to the window and survey the city.


    I see before me things that are within my power to mold.


    At least the view is acceptable.


    ---


    Sav


    I''m climbin'' onto my wagon. Time to make a short trip. I know it will be a few days ride, but I need to see these folk. If I can find ''em. Can''t believe they''re so hard to track.


    ''specially for me. Trackin'' is what I do, so where are they? Blast them. The trail is too cold, is what it is.


    Muttering to myself ain''t helpin''. Blast it. Mutterin'' helps most days, certain. Why is mutterin'' not helpin'' today?


    I kick a stone outta my way. It ''urts. Blast it. I ''ate that stone. I ''ate that man.


    It''s that one. He''s been trickin'' people. Crazy as an Albarg, yet no one listens to Sav. Never listen to Sav, certain. Blast them.


    I ''ave a right happy time now though, shouldn''t be so mad, certain.


    ''Cause I heard that folk around here finally woken up. They all thinkin'' that wild one was goin'' crazy now, certain.


    It''s a laugh to me. He was crazy to begin with.


    Heram knows, the world be a better place without beast like that.


    He stole my blasted Mana Sealers!


    A friend o'' mine be tellin'' me he is all holed up in the Gaubriard, loungin'' about. He''s certain to be playin'' about. Makin'' new games and trickin'' honest folk. It''s a Magekin, it''s all they do.


    They never listen to Sav.


    I told ''em that he was mad. They let ''im just walk ''round loose.


    I''ll not be ''avin'' my folks and friends be killed by ''im on a game of ''is. I always ''ave to figure things for myself.


    I know I gotta. It is right true that he is mad.


    Wouldn''t want ''im causin'' more sufferin'' now.


    That''s for certain.


    ---


    Anilea


    I''m going to see the odd man, Wil the Mage. Maybe he should just be called Wil now...


    I''m not sure if he''ll be a Mage anymore, his mana corruption is so evident. Though, it''s hard to say if he was a Mage in the first place. I''ve never seen anyone destroy Fleetingwood with their bare fists. That kind of strength is enviable.


    He is so meek even with that much strength. My pride as a warrior is hurt.


    As for his current condition, it''s unfortunate. He is the most polite Mage I have ever met. He was well-mannered even when the Boss was pressuring him into the job. I''ve never seen a meek Mage before.


    They normally wave their spells around with arrogance. Any guard that isn''t green behind the ears will always come to hate them. A guard can''t do anything though, even after they cause havoc. So we ignore them.


    I had just ignored Wil like every Mage. I ignored the proceedings like every other time the Boss negotiated a business deal. I''m the one who had guided Wil though. I''m the one who figured that even in poor condition a Mage could handle some monsters with ease.


    I think I was too cautious to say anything. It''s a response I''ve learned due to all my previous  encounters with Mages. I knew something was off when we were walking to the grotto. I thought he was too eccentric, even for a Mage. The politeness should have been a warning. Instead, I blundered ahead thinking it would be an easy day''s work.


    I should have known better. When I saw him near the harbor for the first time he looked like he had just seen his first battlefield. It''s a look I wore myself years back. I had assumed it was the usual Mage training. So I didn''t ask. I assumed that any answer I received would be too full of secrets to bother with. So I didn''t ask.


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    I didn''t ask.


    I didn''t even ask, even though it would have taken only a moment. Now the result rests with me.


    Haaaa. I can only blame my own ineptitude.


    He''s been ill for days. After he was left alone, he even took off his Ethul. I''ve been trying to repay my debt and asking around about what happened in the grotto. I researched the Fleetingwoods behavior and tales of them talking, as absurd as it is. What I heard was shocking. The Fleetingwoods are psychic. Psychic creatures aren''t that rare, but they are usually solitary. Fleetingwoods on the other hand, share parts of their mind and live as part of a whole.


    It''s a guess, but there is a thought that the forest of Fleetingwood is a single creature. It''s something I had never thought to question before now, but considering how hard they are to catch no matter how many people you bring, them being psychic should have been obvious.


    The more worrisome thing I heard is that in rare cases a human can touch upon the shared mind. I think it''s what happened to Wil. I had heard stories before about people never coming back from hunting Fleetingwood, but like everyone else I had dismissed it as a myth.  it didn''t even occur to me that a Mage would have any trouble, even with a psychic creature. That''s why they wear an Ethul in the first place.


    I shouldn''t have let him had the Mana Sealers back. Of course the Ethul would stop working if he put on the Sealers. I was too shocked with his strength. I handled it poorly. I thought I had left my naivety behind in my youth. It''s frustrating.


    Visiting him has helped. Me, at least.


    I greet the employee on hand as I come in. They aren''t happy about this situation, but no one wants to upset a Mage enough to ask him to leave. The walls are thick, anyway.


    I''ve been going to see him as duty permits. I blame myself for what happened, though I''ve seen enough in my life that I know not to get wrapped up in self-pity. I know the only way I''ll feel right is to see him get better.


    Even coming to help could be seen as trying to steal Mage secrets. I don''t care anymore if it brings down the wrath of the Mages on me.


    Every day I have come, I see him in a bad state, but as I open the door today he looks to be on the mend.


    I pried the Sealers off a few days back. His Ethul is back on. So I''m relieved to see that the color has returned to his face, at last.


    I''ve always felt that soldiers best pull through when surrounded by their comrades. So here I am.


    I don''t know of anyone else that this man would call a friend. Not Sav. That man is too petty to care about anyone else. I can''t ask any more about his background without the Boss finding out, or even worse, the Mages.


    I might not be a friend, but I can still encourage him.


    I''ve done it many times for friends and comrades who were ill, so for a man who has done me no wrong. A man whose suffered due to these hands of mine...


    It''s the least I can do.


    I hope he pulls through.


    ---


    Wilson


    Hello?


    ¡­


    Where have I been?


    My mind was lost in a sea of thought, worry and doubt. Far beyond the tides that I''ve had to wade through.


    Since then I''ve been adrift.


    I slowly open my eyes.


    But I can see the shore of sanity again.


    Anilea is sitting to the side of the bed. I''m floating on this comforting and colorful bed, and there is bright light coming in through the open windows. I can hear the sounds of the lively city outside and smell salty fresh air.


    It''s wonderful.


    I''ve seen Anilea a lot in the last few days, I think. Her steady voice has been my anchor to reality. She has been coming in again and again to talk to me, even though I don''t respond.


    My thoughts are clear and I meet her eyes.


    I know who I am.


    I might give her a conversation today.


    ¡°Are you alright, Wil?¡±


    Concern. I can see it in her eyes as she leans in closer to look at my waking self.


    She''s close to me. We''re close together.


    I can see every line of her face. It''s a warm face.


    ¡°Yes, I think I''m okay.¡±


    Her cheeks are hiding a tinge of pink, her lips betray a smile and her head lets slip a nod.


    ¡°Good.¡±


    ¡­


    I''ve discovered something. Something new. Something amazing. It might even be better than muscles, robes, magic or wizards.


    I''ve found a warm feeling dwelling in my heart. It began with a trickle of belonging. It has flourished under a familiar face. It''s now rising to the gorge of my throat and the corners of eyes.


    For once it''s not nausea, but rather joy.


    ¡­


    Joy.


    ¡­


    I take a moment to collect myself. I''m no longer warring within. I can see myself.


    All because of the soft steady words calling me Wil.


    Not Wilson, Maniac, Magnificent, Sorrowful, Beautiful or Average.


    Who am I?


    ¡­


    I no longer need to guess.


    I no longer need to cry.


    I don''t even need to ask why.


    I''ve found inside, a self who''s free.


    The man called Wil is me.


    ---


    Solitude & Solace


    Part 1


    End


    ---

 Chapter 16 – Home is where your heart is

    Authors Corner


    We''re out of first gear now. We''re now in ¡­ well you''ll have to keep reading to find out.


    Onto new things! Thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    ---


    Solitude & Solace


    Part 2


    ---


    Chapter 16 ¨C Home is where your heart is.


    Wil


    On the move in a field of huge boulders.


    Three months later.


    Home is where the heart is.


    My heart is definitely here.


    What a beautiful place.


    ¡°Are we good to go?¡±


    I hear a question shouted from behind me as I am running. Turning around, seeing nothing but boulders I can''t really get a look at the source of the voice.


    I jump over a boulder and look back over my shoulder at the same time. Other humans would have trouble jumping high enough and would have even more trouble being half turned while doing so. For me, however, this act of agility is nothing.


    I never get tired of this body. And this body never gets tired, period.


    ¡°Keep up the pressure! Some are breaking off!¡± I shout, eying my pursuers.


    ¡°Wil, another group has appeared! We''re losing people in the...¡± I hear a shout from my far right fade away.


    That''s not good.


    This job ¡­ it might be hard to finish. I''ll be lucky to get half pay for the day.


    I don''t really need the money. Ever since I moved out of that overpriced mansion of an inn, I''ve had no monetary concerns. I could live for years if I was to be economical. Sitting around not working just makes me a useless human though.


    That''s why I''ve set a goal to earn 100 gold. It''s something to keep me busy, and feel useful at the same time. It will take a very long time at my current rate.


    But it''s not the gold I''m worried about right now.


    It''s my reputation.


    I take my job very seriously. I want to be the best of the best. Others have come to respect my dedication and hard work.


    What do I do?


    I''m a decoy.


    ¡­


    Oops.


    That acid almost hit me. Dodge, dodge!


    One of my pursuers has caught up. It''s a tiny white fluffy creature with smaller black tufts spotted along it''s sides. It has lovely eyes glowing red with insanity. It''s known as an Albarg. Their favorite hobbies are spitting streams of lethal acid and ruining my day.


    This one is quite the hobbyist.


    Aside from it''s murderous tendencies, I quite like the little fluff balls. They are a very amusing creature. Once they see you, there is a low chance they''ll try to attack. It''s just that once they lock on, they never stop trying to attack you. They don''t even mind if they''re attacked by someone else. They''ll follow you for days, without stopping to rest, eat or drink. They''ll throw their lives away for their absurd longing to kill you. Basically, their personalities are twisted, feral and pointless. I feel like they could be my kindred spirits.


    Dodge, dodge, keep running, dodge.


    There is also another peculiar reason for me liking them. They look exactly like a soccer ball. I don''t know where the thought came from, and I can''t remember much about soccer, but the first time I saw one I had a strong urge to run up and kick it.


    I can''t though, because it''d wreck the fur. The fur is the whole reason I''m here in the first place.


    The hunting caravan I''ve joined is on it''s last day. This is the last herd of Albargs we''re rounding up. The leaders of this little expedition sold us on a huge final hunt. Right now, they number over four times our previous record. This massive herd was, up until a few moments ago, chasing me. I''m not sure what caused the herd to split, but I had noticed I was losing my little friends. I suppose it''s possible that some of the Albargs weren''t locked on to my beautiful face. I ran by too fast for them to truly appreciate it, after all.


    Hisssssss.


    I turn to check on my would-be murderer.


    The fluff ball behind me is hissing rather profoundly.


    I keep my speed even while keeping an eye out for my companions. I don''t see any of them, so I quickly throw up a Mirage. It''s one of those things that I want to keep to myself. My pride won''t let me admit to using the bubbles, and very few people would appreciate me still calling myself a Mage. Or finding out I was ever called one.


    As for the Mirage, my bubbles now number in the millions and are so small that when brought together they are indistinguishable from solid wall of distorted air. I can curve it with enough subtlety that it''s hard to tell where I am or that the air is even distorted. I''ve gotten proficient enough that it it only takes a moment. I call it a Mirage, even if it''s not quite the correct term.


    The small fur ball hisses in confusion as I suddenly disappear from it''s view behind my ¡­ Mirage.


    Non-magical subtle bubble distortion is a terrible name though. I need to take naming into consideration. The first use of the useless bubbles shouldn''t have a bad name. I feel like they represent me, in a way.


    Mirage is good. I like it. I think I''ll keep it.


    Now that I''ve gained some distance from the Albarg, I call out to the others.


    ¡°One left! Can I get a stab over here?¡±


    I figure from the comparative quiet that most of the herd has been defeated.


    ¡°Wil? Is that you?¡± I hear a voice from nearby.


    ¡°Ohhh, Vaxov? Ya, come on over¡± I say as I turn towards the source of the voice.


    I barely had time to finish my sentence before I see the huge man called Vaxovol coming into view from around a boulder, holding a spear.


    On it is my little friend from earlier.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°Oh, you already got him?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Hahaha fierce little one he was.¡± he says with a laugh while nodding. ¡°I''m always amazed at your speed. How can someone so fast not be good at hunting?¡±


    I like Vaxov, but he''s a little too forward. Everyone else is just happy I''m taking the brunt of monsters attention to ask me these kinds of questions. I hope he didn''t see my Mirage.


    ¡°Ah, well, it''s just not something I am meant for.¡± I say, hoping he''ll drop it.


    He just looks at me for a moment before shaking his head, disappointed. A typical Vol reaction. Crazy battle-maniacs.


    Even if he''s battle hungry, he raises a good point, but I just can''t tell him about my issues, can I? Anilea cautioned me not to mention magic or the like to regular folk. She said that not even knowing all of my story.


    These days I''m enjoying leading monsters away from hunting groups. I''m building my tolerance and exposure to danger with care, all while making money. In the worst case, if I go berserk when I''m leading away the monsters, none of the hunting party will be close enough to see me rage.


    It''s a small job, but I''m well known for it. My reputation as a maniac that kept screaming in his room was hard to leave behind. Fortunately, it was that reputation that made getting this job easy. You''d have to be crazy to want to do it.


    Pretending to stretch and cool down from a hard run, I motion towards the direction of the caravan, which is now weaving through the boulders and coming towards us. Voxol nods as he finishes his work. The caravan''s slow pace gives me time to finish my fake stretches and Voxol time to clean up his kill. As it closes the distance and we can see familiar faces, I turn to him.


    ¡°Time to head back?¡± I ask with a knowing smile.


    ¡°Yes, it was a great hunt this time.¡± Voxol says, his grin matching my own.


    The slightest breath and we''re off running.


    We both race each other over to the caravan. Trying to get the good spot on top of the fur wagon.


    I win, of course, much to Voxol''s chagrin.


    Ahh.


    I stretch and lean back on the nice fur bed.


    My thoughts accompany me to the city.


    I can''t wait to have a drink.


    ---


    Wil.


    Gol-ta.


    Sitting in his favorite spot, in his favorite tavern.


    Surrounded by muscled idiots.


    ¡°Wil, you want another drink?¡±


    ¡°Aye'' Dron, pass me another.¡±


    Nice man, that Dron, even if he''s a Heramite.


    It''s hazy sometimes, but I go by Wil now.


    No one ever knew me by a different name, due to my botched introductions, but in my head I had called myself Wilson. The new name is a change for me, at least. It''s an inward change meant to radiate an outward one. I''ve changed a lot since I first came to this city. I''ve grown. I''ve become more... human.


    The frightened man who could barely speak without stuttering is still inside me, somewhere. He comes out from time to time, but I now expect his visits and prepare. I''ve finally come to terms with being on a different planet.


    It took me a long time, and I reached some dark places inside. Everything I''ve done is part of me, but I don''t really blame myself. Shock isn''t something that''s easy to shrug off. I know that now.


    The maniac who enjoys kill everything comes and goes. I know what causes his abrupt appearances.


    It was so obvious, looking back.


    Interrupting my rare moment of rumination, Dron arrives with a nice mug full of delicious golden brown liquid.


    ¡°Thanks Dron.¡±


    ¡°Haha, nothing for my best customer.¡±


    I smile at him. I hope it doesn''t seem to condescending. It''s just that I''m still smiling at my own stupidity too. It''s not a smile about the drink.


    It''s my Ethul.


    It fuels me with everything I could possibly need when I encounter danger, including literally insane amounts of hormones needed to maximize my kill potential. The stronger the danger, the stronger the response is.


    That''s my running theory, patched together from observations from the present and slivers of insight from my past. It''s proven to be a solid theory so far. If something is harmless to me, I am calm. If imminent harm is closing in, my derangement scales accordingly.


    I don''t know the finer points or the limitations, but this theory has been accurate enough to help me cope.


    It''s hard to manage sometimes, but I need the robe.


    If I take it off permanently, mana corruption will eventually melt my organs and make me truly insane.


    I have a nice muddy stone that tells me this, many thanks to Anilea. If I take off the robe, my mana corruption starts growing at a noticeable rate. It''s supposed to be impossible, but when I put the Ethul back on, the glow will dim to nothing, given enough time. The only thing I know for sure is that this means my miraculous body has absolutely no mana resistance whatsoever. Even the mana in the city is enough to be toxic to me.


    Maybe it''s because my body is brand new, like a newborn, I can''t know.


    Thinking about my chances of becoming a Wizard drags my thoughts into a bad place.


    My eye gives a slight twitch and then calms down on it''s own.


    What I do know is that all the danger has pushed enough hormones through me to make the change to my psyche semi-permanent. It doesn''t help that the culmination of all my life experience isn''t more than half a year. My psyche was susceptible to begin with, and my wild experiences didn''t help.


    I can''t shrug off my life so far and I still don''t get along with bearded people, but I''ve gotten over worrying about it.


    I know now that time is the only cure for this particular problem. I''ve felt part of the cure already.


    ...


    I take a sip of this delicious drink.


    Mmm...


    Tastes like home.


    ---

 Chapter 17 – Up and Atem.

    Authors Corner


    Hit 1000 views on my first chapter. Nifty.


    Thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 17 ¨C Up and At''em.


    Wil


    The next morning.


    Knock. Knock.


    Mhmm. ¡°I''m up.¡± I mutter into my pillow.


    Knock-knock-knock-knock.


    ¡°Stop it already! I''m up, I''m up.¡± I whip off of my bed and shout at the door. It better not be Jelt. That man is so obnoxious.


    Knock.


    ¡°I''M UP! GIVE ME A BLASTED SECOND¡± I yell.


    Him knocking like that puts me in a sour mood. It reminds me too much of the past. It reminds me of the familiar knocks that still occasionally plague my dreams. It''s too close to the steady knock Anilea used to bring me out of that nightmare of reality. I shuffle off my bed and reach to put my Ethul back on.


    ¡°I just have to get changed.¡± I reply to the door, Ethul in hand. I really don''t like it''s form fitting feature. It sounds nice but it feels weird to have a piece of clothing wrap itself around you.


    Knock...


    I swear if that is Jelt... I''m not going to need my Ethul on to have lethal intentions. I''ll just kill him. Then he will be dead and there will never be knocking again.


    Hmm. That response was too vicious.


    My anger is high today.


    ¡­


    Knock...


    ¡­


    It''s understandable. This knock knock knocking would be irritating for anyone, I think. It''s a rational anger. I''m okay. Phew... It''s bothersome to have to check to see if your emotions are justified every moment of the day.


    Knock...


    If he doesn''t stop, I''ll kill him.


    Calm. Calm. Calm.


    ¡­


    Knock?


    ¡­


    Why did that knock sound like a question? Whatever, he can wait.


    Whatever, be calm.


    Calm.


    I''ll ignore it.


    ¡­


    Before I put on my Ethul, I reach over to my rucksack and pull out the murky dark Blaguestone. I peer very carefully into it''s depths and I see a slight change. It looks as though overnight the mana corruption wasn''t as bad it was the previous night. I think that my mana resistance is rising with time. I want to have an amazing mana resistance one day, so I take the risk of taking off my Ethul every night to let my body adjust. It''s dangerous, but I need to improve myself. Even at the cost of my life. This world is too vicious to let me have a pleasant stay without taking a little risk.


    Thinking about some of the powerful humans I''ve seen so far, I walk back towards my bed to pick up the Ethul where I had dropped it.


    Holding the Blaguestone in my hand causes the cloth of the Ethul to flutter away from it, trying to escape my hand.


    Take that, magic robe.


    It''s annoying that I can''t keep the Blaguestone in my robe, but since it''s a relative to the anti-magical Darkstone, like with the manacles I can''t mix it with magic. The robe wilts when I try to force it to happen.


    Since I don''t want to be the owner of a wilted robe, I drop the Blaguestone back in my rucksack and step into the Ehtul on the ground. It unfurls itself off the floor and begins to wrap around me, tightening itself as it goes.


    I don''t know who made the magic for the Ethuls or how the magic works, but if they had slipped up by the smallest margin, these Ethuls could kill the wearer with ease. They are, for most intents, indestructible. Having this one tighten around me always brings this thought to my mind.


    Knock-knock-knock-knock.


    Ethul equipped, I charge over and wrench the door open, ready to give Jelt a piece of my mind.


    ¡°Who do you think you are, knocking on my door nonst-¡± I complain, before stopping mid-sentence.


    Anilea is standing there with her arm extended ready to knock again. She is standing with a tiny angle on her lips that I''ve come to recognize as a sign of professional amusement.


    I thought the knocking had sounded familiar. Blast Jelt for confusing me. Blast Anilea and her strange sense of humor.


    ¡°A job.¡± she replies curt as ever, after letting her joke set in.


    Knock, knock. Who''s there? Jelt? No, Anilea.


    The joke is on me.


    Having delivered her punchline, she turns around and walks away.


    ---


    Wil


    Scrambling along.


    We''re heading back to the tavern. It''s a perfect spot for a meeting of misfits. Not like we''re misfits, but we''re a motley crew. Not that everyone is motley per se. Rather it''s me in my robe.


    Err... mottled, that is.


    I''m back to my bad habit again. I''m a bit down that Anilea chewed me out. Apparently I was two hours late to meet her to discuss work. We had talked about it before my last hunt, which was weeks ago. It had slipped my mind.


    I miss alarm clocks.


    After lecturing me on how to behave like a normal person, not a flippant Mage, for the umpteenth time, she finally relented after I mentioned we might be late to meet the others. Noticing how correct I was, she started rushing off to the meeting, me along with her.


    ¡°C''mon, what is it about?¡± I question her.


    ¡°I''m only explaining it once.¡± she chides, not even stopping to look at me.


    It''s fair, I''ve asked her the same question many times in a row. I can''t help it. I''m bored that she is taking so long, even at her fair speed. I have to push myself not to leap through the streets, so by comparison I''m scrambling to keep as slow as possible.


    She has rebuked me many times that showing off my speed will only bring me ire, and inconvenience people on the street.


    It''s the typical mode of thinking for a guard, after all. Unlike her, I love speeding along. It''s the one thing I show off. Everything else is ever so secret. It''s for a good cause of not landing me dead or trapped when someone thinks I can do magic without tools or even worse, they see underneath my cloak that I''m wearing an Ethul. It''s at times like these when I feel stifled my own self imposed limitations.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°Stop that.¡± she growls at me with a firm set to her lips. She''s mad.


    I can see her face because I''m running backwards in front of her right now.


    There aren''t many stares at all, most of the people in this part of the Lower City are used to me by now. I make sure to show off my speed to deflect suspicions of my Magehood.


    ¡°I''m improving my public image.¡± I mention to her, with a casual blind backflip over a fruit-stand on the side of the street.


    My landing is perfect, and I get a small ovation from a few children nearby.


    Thank you, thank you.


    I bow.


    Maybe I should take up performing? A circus would be fun. I''d fit right in.


    ¡°Wil, stop that.¡± she has slowed to look at me in the eyes.


    Uh oh. She uses my name when she''s actually mad.


    I realize I''ve been acting strange again. Maybe I didn''t wait long enough for the mana corruption to wear off? I can''t tell her that though, she''d be horrified.


    ¡°Yes. Sorry. I''ll stop.¡± I offer.


    I''ve become proficient in controlling myself at times like these.


    I''m walking normally by the time we reach the tavern.


    ---


    A Motley Crew.


    At everyone''s favorite tavern.


    ¡°What do you mean it''s in Athem?¡± Jelt complains, being annoying as usual.


    Even Anilea, the most reserved person I know, looks like she wants to punch Jelt in the face.


    Do it, Anilea, I''m secretly rooting for you.


    ¡°Jelt, shut up or I''ll punch you, hahaha.¡± Voxol flat out says with laugh what everyone is thinking.


    Jelt looks like he might keep talking but the grin on Voxol''s face is hard to read.


    Anilea ignores Jelt and continues explaining to our renowned expedition leaders, the twins Nem and Ilorem. They are doing their usual creepy thing by staring at her identically. Without blinking.


    And people think I''m weird?


    I can''t even tell what gender they are. I''m afraid to ask anyone except Voxol, the smiling oaf, but I haven''t found the time to bring it up to him. He is always quick to leave when the fighting is over. I think he''d tell me about them in great detail, he''s not discrete at all. I mostly want to know what is up with their appearances, or if they''re even human. They have smooth pale faces, silky white hair and delicate features. Blast, I can''t even tell them apart most of the time.


    ¡°... path has opened up so it shouldn''t be hard to take care of, Athem needs the support due to the war with Okam recently. The Planner has negotiated sending expedition teams to help for an amazing price.¡± I tear my eyes away from the twins mesmerizing faces to here the tail end of Anilea''s explanation.


    Athem would be the first other city for me to visit, so of course I''m excited. I''ve told Anilea I''ve had an isolated life, which isn''t quite a lie, so she must have known that I''d be excited to go. It makes sense why she was so insistent on getting me to come earlier. I have to make sure to thank her later.


    ¡°The price could be amazing, but the city...¡± Owen voices a valid concern.


    I''d like to visit Athem too, but the city never shook off the Heramitic culture from it''s founders, like Gol-ta has. It''s painful to get anything done with that many of them around. I''m still surprised that the Planner has let Gol keep it''s Heramitic name considering his obsession with efficiency and reputation.


    ¡°What do you mean!?¡± Jelt says, being the only Heramite in amongst the regulars of this expedition team. His voice is laden with accusation.


    ¡°...it''s far.¡± Owen is a good man, but a quiet one. He won''t start a fight, verbal or otherwise, unless he has to. He provides this peace offering and looks away.


    Sure he''s nice, by why is he even at this meeting if he can''t stand up for himself? It''s meant for the influential regulars of our expedition team. The twins are the only ones that are really needed because of their renown, but they have an open policy about leadership. They prefer gathering together good members, pay them well enough to keep them on the team, and let the important members take part of discussions like these.


    I''m obviously not influential, so I try to say as little as possible. I''m only here in the first place because of Anilea. She''s a great resource for finding work, and since she''s the one who introduced me, I''ve quickly become part of the inner circle. It''s nepotism at it''s finest.


    I try to not be too hard on myself. The twins have told me many times that the death rate of the expeditions has gone down drastically since I joined. They might be lenient on leadership, but I doubt they''d let me be here if that wasn''t at least somewhat true.


    ¡°How much for the job?¡± I ask, since everyone else is trying to avoid the awkward situation of telling Jelt how they want to avoid his ilk. We can''t afford to lose him, after all. Anilea isn''t the pushy type when it comes to money, so I figure I''d help to prompt her.


    Anilea shoots me a thankful look. It''s a two millimeter bob of her head. I''ve got my Anileaisms memorized.


    ¡°1000 Gold.¡±


    ¡­


    Everyone is in shock.


    That amount is ridiculous.


    ¡­


    ¡°I''ll do it.¡± ¡°Sounds reasonable¡± ¡°I think we can manage it¡± Everyone is responding at once while keeping their eyes fixed on the twins.


    The twins look to be deliberating. They both had tilted their heads to the side to think in tandem.


    ¡­


    ¡°We''ll.¡± Nem says.


    ¡°Take it.¡± Ilorem says.


    ¡­


    Weird.


    ¡­


    Anyway, they approve, so let''s get at''em.


    I mean ¡­


    Let''s get our greedy selves to Athem.


    ---

 Chapter 18 – Hard work never pays... this well

    Authors Corner


    As usual, thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 18 ¨C Hard work never pays... this well


    Wil


    Having discussed the details of roughly when the expedition would be leaving Gol, the members began to clear out.


    Since the meeting was mostly broken up and the rest of group left, we came to the real discussion. The twins had eerily motioned to Anilea to stay behind to ask about the obvious worries. I''m not really needed, but I''m here because it sounds interesting. I want to know how that Planner managed to get 1000 gold as a bounty for the job. That amount is a far cry from our normal hunting trips.


    ¡°Is there anything¡±  ¡°you''re not telling us?¡± the twins question Anilea in tandem.


    I''d be worried if they weren''t this wary, but Anilea is as reputable as they come.


    She gives a quick nod to acknowledge their concern.


    ¡°I can understand that you''d be skeptical. There aren''t any catches.¡± she says, once again skimping on information.


    The twins turn to look at me. Yes, this is another reason why I''m allowed to come to these meetings. So they don''t have to get Anilea to elaborate.


    ¡°Anilea, how can you be sure? It sounds too good to be true.¡± I ask, prodding her for more information. The twins both give me a look of a job well done.


    She takes a moment to think before responding. Like weighing how much information she can say without the Planner finding out and lopping her head off.


    ¡°When the request came in, the Planner might have shown his displeasure about their spies being in the city. There may have been body parts displayed as a ¡­ subtle warning.¡±


    The twins go wide-eyed at this.


    I guess they''re shocked. I''d be shocked too, if I hadn''t met him face to face. The man probably put severed heads on display while simultaneously adding up the extra gold he would make by doing so. I take back what I said earlier, he''s scary enough to always be shocking.


    ¡°That is enough¡± ¡°to quadruple the normal price?¡± the twins, back to their normal strange selves, say skeptically.


    ¡°Well, like I said before, it''s technically an infestation type expedition, not hunting. It''s just that there are very few expedition teams available in Gol-ta right now.¡±


    ¡°So we were¡± ¡°chosen by necessity?¡±


    The twins are right, they have successfully lead many hunting type expeditions over the few years they''ve been doing this, but there are bigger and better teams in the city. When the twins put up their expedition announcements, they usually are only in the upper middle in terms of interest. Not quite the elite, at least not yet.


    ¡°Partly, but you are a well known team with an excellent reputation. It helps that you have two special core members, especially Jelt.¡±


    Because me and Jelt both fill peculiar roles for an expedition, we''re looked at as a ''special unit''. I couldn''t be any less pleased by a designation, even an informal one like this. The man makes it his personal mission to make my life a living hell. I don''t want to be part of anything with that man. I know it''s lucky that I''m even considered for the expedition in the first place.


    ¡°Jelt¡± ¡°has his flaws¡±


    That''s very true.


    He''s seriously annoying. Everyone dislikes him.


    But we put up with him and the twins sign him up for every expedition.


    Why?


    Because he has precognition.


    It''s a rare gift, rarer than being a Mage, that''s for sure. As far as I know he has some very definite limits, his ability works based on projected harm and the potential timeframe of a future event, although the way he says it doesn''t make much sense to me. His limitations in these areas fit nicely into short hunting expeditions. We find the monsters faster and avoid being overrun almost every time. Along with my distractions we''ve become one of the most efficient expedition teams in the entire city, as of late.


    This efficiency would be my first guess as to why the Planner let Anilea bring this to us.


    Or maybe he just hopes I''ll die. He''s still pretty mad I won''t harvest more Fleetingwood.


    ¡°Jelt might have flaws, but the rest of your team can cover them.¡± she says. She''s looking at me at the moment. Stop. It''s embarassing.


    ¡°Athem won''t¡± ¡°go back on it''s word?¡± the twins ask.


    ¡°Even if they do, the City Planner has guaranteed this job. He''s the one offering it. You know what that implies.¡±


    Yup. We''ll get paid, no matter what, he''s very serious about money. On the other hand, if we mess this up, he might kill us to set another one of his infamous ''examples''.


    The twins appear satisfied.


    ¡°Very well¡± ¡°Thank you for answering our questions¡± they say together, before turning in sync and leaving.


    They''re strange.


    ¡°Anilea, will we really be ok?¡± I ask her, seeing if there was any concerns of her own that she didn''t dare voice to the twins.


    ¡°You should be fine, Wil. You need the experience of being outside this city. Just keep your eyes open. I''ll talk to you later, I need to get back to work.¡± she says, before giving my shoulder a light pat and then leaving herself.


    I''m still somewhat worried, thinking about all the monsters I''ll have to lure away. Since it''s a stone totem infestation, that means there will be an absurd amount of things to kill.


    Then again, the money is amazing, and I won''t have to do anything except run around while everyone else fights.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Heh. It shouldn''t be too bad.


    I decide to head back and enjoy my brief respite.


    ---


    Knock knock.


    Ugh. That nap was beginning to be enjoyable. I was at that quiet point of wakefulness just before sleep ushers your mind away.


    Knock.


    Seriously stop, Anilea. What could you want now, when I saw you last not even an hour ago?


    I hop out of bed quickly this time grabbing my cloak and throwing over my head quickly. I want to deal with this then get back to sleep.


    ¡°Anilea, what do you wa-¡±


    Blast it.


    ¡°Interesting. I didn''t know Anilea came to your inn to visit you.¡± an eerie and quiet voice replies.


    Before I have a chance to say anything, the person continues on.


    ¡°Sorry to bother you, but do you know where Jelt is? It''d be preferable to have his name on the expedition posting this time.¡±


    ¡°Why does everyone think I know where Jelt is all the time!?¡± I rebuke by reflex.


    The person appears taken aback.


    ¡°Aren''t you two friends?¡± asks the person, puzzled.


    ¡°NO! Why does everyone think we''re friends? I don''t know where he is, I never know where he is until he is knocking on my door, waking me up, just like you. Now go away!¡±


    I slam the door in their face.


    Wait a moment.


    That voice...


    That face...


    They don''t match.


    That was one of the twins, by voice alone.


    But I have never seen that person before.


    Am I just groggy from being woken up?


    ¡­


    As I rub my eyes I notice something.


    Uh-oh.


    I''m not wearing my Ethul.


    I race over to the side of my bed where it had shuffled to, and hopped right on top of it. Once it wrapped itself up my body, I took stock of my surroundings.


    Am I under mental attack again?


    I wait, holding the breath that I don''t need.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Nothing is happening. Now that the Ethul is on, and I''ve checked my surroundings, everything seems fine.


    I slump down onto my bed in relief.


    The Ethul is doing it''s thing and I''m not getting any homicidal hunches. Whatever the twins are up to, it doesn''t seem like it''s meant to harm me. What exactly are they doing then?


    With the Ethul on, they look pale and strange.


    With the Ethul off, they look normal ¡­ I''m still not sure what gender they are but they look affable and attractive.


    Those twins must appear normal to everyone that doesn''t have psychic or mental protection. That is why no one finds their appearance strange. I always thought it had stood out, but I''m the last person in the world who would mention anything. For all I know, everyone looks that strange in Athem.


    Thinking now about them using psychic powers to manipulate people doesn''t bother me as much as I expect it would.


    I''m able to deal with them being psychic; Jelt is one after all.


    My real concern is that their powers of the mind or illusion might not stop there. I''m not sure if this Ethul protects me from telepathy or anything else that could cause me indirect harm.


    All these non-stop fantasy encounters give me a headache sometimes. Not a literal one, I don''t really suffer those unless I drink too much. Rather it''s an existential one.


    This is all too complicated for how tired I am, being woken up mid-nap.


    Still sleepy, I shake my head and wander back to bed.


    I''ll figure it out when I wake up.


    ---


    Ooh. Not too bad. I''m around 49 gold coins towards my goal, if I count all the smaller coins too.


    After all the interruptions, and having finally finished my nap, I''ve spent the afternoon relaxing and playing around with my shiny money. I have made a resolution to stay focused and not let the many oddities of this world overwhelm me. So here I am, building small towers of precious metal. I need something to balance my mind, and right now, with the feeling of security and power that precious metal brings, I can soothe myself.


    I also figure I should take it easy between expeditions, considering they''re both the hunting type, which heavily relies on my abilities to guide the group. Not to say that hunting expeditions are the worst. The recent postings I''ve joined haven''t been the guard type expeditions, those are the worst for me. Getting chased by thugs and bandits with human minds to chase you is no fun.


    I''m busy stacking up the gold and then unstacking it, for therapeutic reasons. There is so much metal here, I can really feel the weight of my wealth in my hands. It''s satisfying. I''m enjoying myself and I''m almost at the halfway mark for my personal goal.


    It''s nice to have a goal, even if you don''t need to achieve it.


    My survival doesn''t depend on it. I''m quite fortunate that''s the case. This world is cruel.


    Most people are living day to day, some don''t even get paid.


    It''s a world where a small fuzzy white creature can kill you with ease.


    People die everywhere, all the time, for all sort of reasons in this world.


    I don''t want to be one of them.


    This is going to be a distant expedition, and so we''ll be gone for a while. I think I will source out some weapons tomorrow.


    Hmm.


    But before that, I''m going to hunt down Voxol and get him to tell me more about those twins.


    ---

 Chapter 19 – Ghosts of expeditions past and future

    Authors Corner


    As usual, thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 19 ¨C Ghosts of expeditions past and future


    Wil


    Heading to meet the rest of the expedition team.


    An existential headache.


    That''s what I have right now.


    Voxol didn''t know anything about those twins. Rather, he found it strange that I was asking in the first place. They are almost above reproach, since they are the leaders of some of the best expeditions in the city. To everyone else, they seem like intrepid warriors with the charm to gather others around them. Over the years, everyone had seen them come back from expedition after expedition in glory, until the day where they started running expeditions on their own.


    In other words, they''re celebrities.


    Voxol didn''t even know what gender they were, but thought they were attractive regardless. He looked confused about the last part. His face as he said the words looked surprised by those same words as they flowed out of his own mouth. I''d have to agree with him. When I was out of my Ethul, and the twin, whichever one it was, came to visit, I thought they had looked attractive. Taking into account my rather muted lust, that was one of the biggest warning signs to me. I''m very wary of any psychic interference with my brain, otherwise I might not have noticed it at all, and just gone back to sleep unaware.


    Thinking about it now, in my memory I still see that twin as attractive. With my Ethul on, I know that attraction is somehow wrong Thanks to the Ethul, I can conclude that their abilities are psychic in nature. Thinking about an illusion wouldn''t give me this sense of wrongness ¡­ I think.


    I don''t think there is anything to be done about it. I''ve known them for a while, and they have always been good at leading and fair to those who they led. Through these cleared eyes of mine the twins are still very capable, but it doesn''t help the fact that they look like ghosts.


    Sighing, I put my boots up on the rail of the wagon and lean back.


    I''ll have to keep an eye on them.


    I sigh again. I have too many things I need to be careful for. This expedition might have been a bad idea. I''m still barely coping after my breakdown. I''m back to having an existential headache.


    It''s ironic, but the easiest part of all this is when I have to be chased by lethal monsters. At least then I can run around and relax. My goal is so clear.


    Hahaha...ha.


    ¡°What is it Wil?¡± Anilea who is sitting across from me, going through documents, looks up and asks.


    Oops, that tired laugh actually slipped through my lips.


    ¡°Thinking about the trip.¡± I reply. I don''t want to get a lecture about questioning leadership, so I won''t mention I''m laughing at the thought of being wary of my bosses. Sometimes I can''t get through to Anilea that despite knowing nothing of the world, I''m not a child. It doesn''t help my resolve that I''m not at all sure of that fact. I could have been a baby before, for all I know. A baby that wants to be a wizard.


    She''s watching me as I lie through my teeth about my thoughts.


    Looking at her, seeing the tiny familiar expressions of concern, makes me somewhat sad. On her, it''s practically shouting that she is worried. The sad part is that it''s obvious she dotes on me due to guilt. She is ruthless about her duty, I''ve seen her walk past dying people without a second glance. It''s her sense of personal duty that leads her to help me. She has said many times that she blames herself for letting me come to harm. The misplaced guilt drives her compassion. So while it''s nice to have a friend, it hurts that it''s a friend born of duty.


    ¡°You don''t seem very excited.¡± she says while studying me.


    Solid observation skills, as always, Anilea. Too bad my lack of excitement has nothing to do with the trip itself. Instead it''s due to everyone that is coming along. Right now, it''s you, and before it was the mysterious twins. Jelt is always included in the short list of people who don''t excite me, so let''s include him too.


    ¡°I have a lot of things on my mind.¡± I give her the truth.


    She''s not one for discussing open ended subjects, so she continues to stare at me, waiting for me to elaborate on anything in particular. I don''t think I -... oh no, wait, I do have something.


    Something hilarious. It should lighten my mood. It''ll be worth a laugh.


    ¡°Do you find the twins attractive?¡±


    Even the formidable psychic powers of the twins won''t be able to get through the emotional wall called Anilea.


    Her eyelids part ever so slightly as she takes into account the question.


    ¡°That was what you were thinking about? ... Hmm.¡± she replies, pondering my question.


    She begins to go through a series of different expressions. A small twitch here, a muscle moving there. Taking my mental map of Anilea''s expressions and applying it as I follow along, I wait for my laugh to come.


    Surprise.


    Confusion.


    Rumination.


    Surprise.


    Confusion.


    A small tinge of pink in her cheeks.


    Surprise.


    Wait, what?


    ¡°Yes, they are handsome. Now keep your eyes about you, we''re close to the city but there still could be monsters.¡± she replies with an airy expression for the briefest moment. The moment over, she shakes off the question and gets back to work, so satisfied with her own response that she considers the conversation over.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡­


    The small laugh I was waiting for...


    The one that I kind of need right now...


    It died in my throat.


    ---


    Wil


    Traveling to Athem


    Lost in thought, I''m sitting beside Jelt.


    I ended up here because no one else wants to sit beside him, but he''ll quit eventually if he doesn''t have anyone to bother... err.. talk to. So the person for him to bother is me. All because I wasn''t paying much attention when the expedition was beginning to head out.


    Anilea had turned back to the city once we had reached the meeting place. She had a few last details to sort out with the twins, which wouldn''t have concerned me before but now I''m somewhat suspicious. Are they after her? Is she after them?


    These questions have answers, but they''re answers I don''t have.


    ¡°Hey, Wil, do you have a better seat than me? Switch seats with me! Why do you get the good seat? Does no one value me around here?¡± Jelt is firing nonsense out of his mouth like usual.


    The seats are identical. We''re sitting on poorly cushioned wood. Instead of humoring Jelt, I''ve learned it''s best to ignore him and nod my head and make noncommittal sounds. He decides that this means he has free reign to talk incessantly. I wish he wouldn''t, so I could enjoy myself with a nap, but him talking because I always agree is better than having to respond to him.


    ¡°Mhmm.¡± I grunt.


    ¡°You do? You have a better seat? Unbelievable! I knew this would happen. I knew it. I saw this happening, do you know? I saw it! Someone is trying to make me suffer. They know I get sore on hard seats. They want to have me distracted by the pain before they kill me! I know it! I haven''t seen it yet, but I know it! They won''t get me though. Check this out, look at this knife? See it''s edge? It''s coated in Flathel. It cost me two jobs worth of pay, but it was worth it. Cuts through other weapons with ease, it can even cut through Fleetingwood. I''m going to use it to gut the bastard who is out to get me. The one who arranged my seats, that one! Then I''ll leave him hanging by his entrails in a tree! Hahahahaha!¡± he blathers on and on, with a whiny voice.


    Vicious, petty, paranoid.


    The rest of the time, a pest.


    That''s Jelt.


    ¡°Mhmm.¡± I grunt, with resolve.


    I think I know why every assumes we''re friends. I''m the only one who makes no motion to hit him. I try to not even think about hitting him, although he makes my eye twitch sometimes. I''m worried about how much his precognition will tell him about my strength if I even try. I have a feeling that a light tap from me would instantly kill him. His precognition would be sure to fire far ahead of that. Then he''d squeal about my strength to everyone in the expedition and at the very best I''d be allowed to stay but loathed for not helping kill monsters when I would have no trouble doing so.


    So far I''d have no trouble wiping out all the monsters from these expeditions myself.


    So I don''t make any move towards Jelt, nor do I let him anger me. Part of this is training I give myself to learn to control my outbursts. The other part I have is sympathy for Jelt.


    That''s right, I feel sorry for the man.


    It''s because I see some of myself in him. The paranoia, the lack of control of your own power. He is scared because he sees all the harm in the shadows of his future. I understand that part of him, because those qualities reside in me as well, more than I''d care to admit.


    ¡°Wil! You stupid running bastard! Why don''t you run around and find the bastard that fixed the seats! Then when you''re gone, I can have your seat, right? Haha.¡± Jelt is going on. I might  understand him, but it doesn''t make him less annoying.


    He knows I won''t hit him due to his precognition, whereas with others he gets a sense that a smack is imminent so he curtails his blabbermouth.


    The only thing his blabbermouth is good for is extraneous information. It''s the final part of why I even put up with Jelt instead of leaving him here or plugging my ears. The amount of extra information he provides would be useless to a normal person of this world, but it reveals important details to me. He''s not known for his fact checking, but I like the facts, true or otherwise, because even the rumors tell me something about the people that make them. The truth and rumors alike impart upon me the common sense of the world.


    Everyone else ignores everything he says, except in one specific case. His precognition. I''d not have to worry about his precognition if it wasn''t so obvious when it was active. His eyes glow a bright yet icy blue with an intensity relevant to the severity of danger. I have a feeling that if I ever decide to hit him, his eyes will light up like the Sun.


    Speaking of his eyes, why is he turned away? Why did Jelt stop talking? I wasn''t paying attention.


    I stare at him and check what he is looking at.


    Jelt is staring ahead of the wagon, but slowly turns back to me with an ethereal expression.


    His eyes are ablaze with an unearthly blue.


    ¡°Incoming.¡±


    His voice is no longer whiny, but distant. It''s the hollow sound of a man separated from reality, unstuck in time.


    ¡­


    Perfect.


    I was getting bored anyways.


    I also want to try out my new sword.


    ---

 Chapter 20 – Birds of a Flaether

    Authors Corner


    I''m removing some of the time and place tags from the scenes for my own reasons, let me know if it''s a lot harder to follow though.


    As usual, thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 20 ¨C Birds of a Flaether


    Wil


    I know where the Flathel that Jelt mentioned comes from.


    It comes from these birds, the Flaebird.


    Should they even be called birds?


    I have never seen one until now. Now there is front of me a flock of twelve. Like most monsters, they look bizarre.


    The Flaebird is a sleek hard edged thorny bird with a gaunt face. Instead of real feathers, it has long thin needle-like crystals which the bird resonates to slip through the air. The problem with these birds rests in these pseudo-feathers. They are called Flaethers by the masses. Whether the Flaebird was named after the flaether or the flaether after the Flaebird, I can''t know. All I do know is that they can render themselves insubstantial to not only air, but all matter. When using these flaethers the become impossible to harm using normal means.


    To top this off, or perhaps because of this, the Flaebird is an irreverent animal. They enjoy torturing humans by slicing them with their sharp serated wings when the humans have their backs turned. From what I''ve heard, they are slow and methodical, cackling as they flay the humans alive bit by bit. Hence where their name comes from. They are hard to catch unless they are in the middle of flaying.


    I don''t like the sound of that now that I am faced with them.


    These birds are worth an incredible amount of money if you can manage to catch one. If you  render down enough Flaethers you get a few drops of Flathel. Flathel is dangerous and hard to obtain because it retains some of the properties of the flaether, so it''s exorbitant price is well-suited.


    I don''t like this situation because I am the one who will have to be chased by these birds as they try to flay me.


    We''re far enough away that we''re not in danger yet. In fact, we wouldn''t have even noticed that the birds were watching us if not for Jelt. He''s in the middle of hiding. As a precog, he doesn''t have to do any hard work.


    ¡°Wil, you gonna take this?¡± Voxol yells from the wagon behind me.


    I, on the other hand, do.


    ¡°Ya.¡± I respond.


    At least I''m calm.


    ---


    ¡°Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!¡± I''m yelling as I''m running away at full speed.


    Yes, full speed.


    My robe evidently has two options of what hormones to feed me.


    Fight or flight.


    Sadly, flight isn''t actual flying, but I''m moving so fast right now I''m coming close.


    I''ve dropped my normal leisure pace because of some rips in my robe and lacerations on my body.


    These birds can make me bleed. Not a small amount, either.


    This is shocking.


    I have become more resilient over the last few weeks, due to my mana resistance training at night. I found that my bodies weakness towards metal was only due to traces of mana that certain metals naturally dissipate. If metal is in the right configuration, or in other words, if the weapon is made properly, a portion of mana can be dissipates in a controlled manner. It''s the reason why all the famous warriors have visible trails behind their weapons edges. The mana dissipation causes a focused ray of mana to come off of the weapon, which does slightly more damage even if the wielder has no affinity for mana at all. Some creatures are even known to be able to do it on their claws, or in this case, wings.


    For the me of before, even the most basic or natural of mana dissipation was enough to cause my body harm. At least, before I started taking off my Ethul every night. I have been testing it recently and after borrowing a good weapon from Voxol by pretending to want to train, I confirmed that I had covered most of my weakness.


    So the fact that these birds can damage me is shocking.


    My robe''s self-defense mechanism must have kicked in, because my whole body agrees.


    I''m pushing myself faster than I have before.


    ¡°Awwww-yeahhhh¡± a bird swoops down in front of me from above and screams this ridiculous sound.


    I''ll have to ask later, but that obnoxious call sounds like words again. The last thing I need is another psychic monster.


    ¡°Awwwwwww¡± another bird cries in dismay as it passes by, having missed. It was trying to swipe me from behind.


    In a straight line, they birds should not be able to catch up to me. It doesn''t help me at all that I have to stay close to the expedition team. It''s quite maddening. Sadly these birds have never heard of playing fair.


    They are trying to distract me while another bird attacks. Even with my speed, their bird brained plan is working because more keep showing up out of the low hanging clouds as I run further and further along. Every time one swoops down, another attacks from behind or the side as I dodge. The total number of birds has grown. A few dozen more have showed up since first ones started chasing me. The rest of the expedition team is having a hard time keeping up, both with the distance and the number of enemies. At this point it would be smarter to leave. Smart for them, anyways. The birds are still mostly focused on me, for the time being.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°Cawww¡± a normal sounding bird nearby calls out in frustration.


    I can feel nothing but frustration myself.


    I have no overwhelming desire to kill these birds, just the normal desire of a human in a bad situation. I am drawing nothing from myself except the focus on running away. When it comes to fighting these birds, I don''t think I can. I think this is the first enemy that I cannot easily beat. The robe has chosen to not fill me up with insanity, probably because I''ll be killed. I have found the first true limit of this body.


    I eke out a whistle as I run. It''s the signal to the others that they should distance themselves because I''m going to flee. I haven''t had to use it until now. The whistle feels sour on my lips.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    After many moments, I finally hear the whistled response. It says to meet them further along our path, once I''ve lost the birds.


    Ya, easy for you to say ¡­ err .. whistle.


    ¡°Awwww¡± another bird cries as it misses.


    ¡°Awwww¡±


    ¡­


    My sentiments exactly.


    ---


    Wil


    Hours later.


    I think I''m lost.


    Panic is setting in, but I''m keeping myself controlled.


    At least I managed to escape the birds. It took me a while. Eventually I decided to use my trusted method of burying myself, digging a tunnel far into the ground until the birds stopped mocking me overhead. It took a while, but they left. I came out to find the team again.


    I''m breathing in the fresh air to get rid of the strange feeling of breathlessness that has come over me.


    I''m going to kill those stupid birds.


    The clouds are gone, and the sun is lower in the sky. I don''t like the open air, I don''t like being out here by myself. I''m not scared, but worried. I have always been around people since I first met them. I don''t go off on my own unless it''s to sleep.


    I don''t want to be alone again. It''s lonely out here. Will everyone continue on without me? Even if I die out here to these stupid birds, will they make a little grave and continue on their way?


    My breath is hard to contain. It''s catching in my throat.


    I''m worried. It shouldn''t be catching, I don''t even need to breathe.


    I look up at the warm sunset. The pastel reds and oranges start at the last of the Sun and fuse their way across the sky until they almost reach the beginning of the night. A sight such as this should give those who see it a sense of awe. It should be a lovely sunset.


    But to my eyes, I can only see the twilight encroaching upon it. Growing out of the darkness to overtake the warmth.


    ¡­


    Other humans act as my cage.


    I like having a ceiling so that I don''t see the sky, because it reminds me of the infinity I hide from. Infinite ways to come to harm. Infinite doubts. Infinite questions.


    The freedom of the world scares me.


    The world has an unbounded morality revolving around personal strength, and I have unbounded personal strength revolving around an unbounded morality.


    When everything connects, everything unravels into chaos, starting with me.


    It''d be trivial to lose what little I have.


    Money.


    Friends.


    ¡­ Sanity.


    ¡­


    What was that?


    I heard a rustle in those bushes.


    Ah, the thrum of the world. I recognize it.


    There must be danger ahead.


    It''s been a while since I''ve felt this good. I need to enjoy it right now. I almost want to laugh. I think I should laugh.


    I think I will laugh.


    ¡°Haha.¡±


    Quietly, Wil, quietly.


    Time to kill something.


    In front of me is a normal bush. A usual bush. It seems normal, but it contains my prey.


    I heard it rustling earlier. Behind the normal bush is my enemy.


    I pull out my new sword. It might be short but that doesn''t make it have any less of a longing to draw blood.


    I wonder how fast I can swing?


    My grin is stretched wide.


    This will be so relaxing!


    ¡­


    The rustling is getting stronger, it sounds like something is hunting me. It''s getting closer. Any second no-


    Something bursts around the bush instead and catches me off guard, it''s moving fast directly towards me.


    No time! Swing!


    ¡­


    ¡°Ah, Wil! There you are!¡±


    ¡­


    It''s only one of the twins.


    Why aren''t they together?


    ---

 Chapter 21 – Too much for one, enough for two

    Authors Corner


    Caught up today. Awww yeah.


    As usual, thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 21 ¨C Too much for one, enough for two


    Wil


    At the sound of the voice I stop my swing and pivot on reflex. Those birds have ingrained the pattern into my mind.


    As I whip around, I think it''s a good thing that I did.


    The other twin is behind me with their blade drawn. It''s smart. They''d need to corner me if they wanted a chance to hurt me. I can''t believe it worked this well, they would have had me, if not for my Ethul. They''ve always been fast and stealthy, but this level is frightening.


    I keep backing up until both of them are in view.


    They''ve been hunting me. I''m prepared. I''m going to kill them.


    They are both watching me with a predatory gaze. No... the subtle differences that make them individuals is gone. The gaze of a single being is upon me, and it is inhuman.


    I''m going to kill it.


    I rush forward and bring my sword to bear in the hardest overhead chop I can manage. I have the element of surprise, due to my hidden strength, so I''m not going to waste it.


    As soon as I had started moving, one of the twins moved in to deflect my sword before it could gain momentum. A look of surprise crossed both the twins'' faces as I overpowered the block. Then it was my turn to be surprised as a quick adjustment of the blocking sword deflected all of my momentum into the ground. My sword got stuck there.


    Hahaha. Oh well.


    I shouldn''t have used a sword anyways, I know nothing of swordmanship.


    Time to use my fists.


    The twins were backing up, however, and they began to speak in sync.


    ¡°¡°Wil, hold on.¡±¡±


    Hahaha. As if.


    I start approaching them at a careful pace, imagining a re-run of my encounter with the sassy Walruses.


    ''Pop goes the head. One pop here, one pop there. Pieces everywhere, everywhere.'', I hum to myself.


    It''s a nostalgic song. It was an original Wilson creation.


    ¡°¡±Wait a moment, wait!¡±¡±


    The twins identical expression shows concern now as I don''t seem to believe their farce.


    Hahah, this will be so much fun! I''ll punch the liars to death.


    Then they decide to spoil the fun by putting down their weapons.


    ¡­


    What?


    Put down their weapons?


    Not going to kill me?


    ¡­


    I look down at the sword in my hand. Do you want to kill them anyways, Mr. Sword? What? Is that a yes? I think you''re right.


    ¡­


    But as I look up, a part of my desire has left me. Filling the void it created is regret and uncertainty.


    ¡­


    I can deal with both of those. The danger has passed. I''m myself again.


    ¡°Why did you attack me?¡±


    ¡°¡±You''ve no idea? As I thought, you''re not with the Mages.¡±¡±


    Oh.


    ¡°Mages? What do you mean? Why should I wait to kill you? Explain yourselves.¡± I deflect, knowing full well what they are referring to. Somehow they''ve mistaken me for a Mage. Did they see my Mirage the other day when we were hunting Albargs?


    Blast it.


    ¡°¡±You haven''t been sent to kill me?¡±¡±


    ¡°Hunt ¡­ you? Aren''t you two different people? Why do you keep talking like that?¡±


    ¡°¡±Were you made by the Mages then? No... but then you would have attacked...¡±¡± they say in a creepy tandem rumination.


    ¡°Hey!? I''m talking to you two creepy genderless bastards! If you don''t talk I''m going to kill both of you. I want answers.¡±


    But as soon as the word genderless left my mouth, the twins snapped out of their thoughts and started making a move to grab their weapons on the ground.


    I dig my toes into the ground and launch myself over to where they stand, putting myself between them and their weapons.


    ¡°Stop. Answer me.¡±


    ¡°¡±Ah.. I shouldn''t have dropped the weapons.¡±¡±


    I''m getting impatient. I don''t care about your blasted circumstances.


    I don''t care.


    Without looking, I drag my foot back low along the ground until I nick one of their weapons with my heel. Following through, I balance the flat of the blade on the nook of my heel, carrying it upwards in a backwards kick, off the ground and in a forward arc through the air where the blade then skims my hair and the handle lands in my deft hands. It all happens in an instant.


    How is this even possible? Why did I even do it? I have no idea.


    I instinctively tried to reach a weapon without thinking about such things, and somehow I did it. It''s a feat that is close to impossible, but in this moment, using the remnants of the vigor that the Ethul gave me, I made it happen.


    The effect on their mindset is profound. Both faces of the twins are stupefied. It''s not a question of having more strength. It''s impossible unless your body and mind has more ¡­ everything.


    While I''m busy pretending not to be as shocked as they are, they''re busy picking their jaws up off the ground.


    ¡°¡±Sorry. I have to say that I''m sorry, Wil. This was certainly unfortunate. It''s clear that whatever the source of your strength is, it''s not based on my research as I had thought. I''ll explain, so don''t swing that sword around so much.¡±¡±


    Finally.


    ¡°Good. Start with explaining why you are talking like that. I don''t need to hear everything in surround sound. Rather, can''t you just stop that?¡±


    Oh, a faint whisper of the past worked its way into my speech. The words feel totally wrong though.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°¡±Sora Sonck? I don''t know what that is?¡±¡± ... ¡°Ah, sorry Wil, I''ll stop.¡± one of the twins says while the other closes it''s eyes and sits down.


    Extra creepy.


    ¡°It sounds like you might understand this already, but I''m one person in two bodies.¡±


    ¡°You two are connected with some psychic power, right?¡±


    ¡°Psychic? Well in a sense yes, but that''s not what I mean. I''m originally the same person, but I am now split between two bodies.¡±


    ¡°What, so like a clone?¡± Again, a weird noise came out of my mouth. The concept of a clone itself is something that I wasn''t even aware of until the word showed up right now. My memory is annoying as always.


    ¡°Kuaron? What is that? Ah, sorry I''m getting distracted again... May I ask how you see me right now?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I ask, brandishing the sword in the twins direction.


    ¡°Ah it''ll make it ¡­ easier to explain.¡±


    ¡°Creepy white haired genderless weirdos.¡± I spit out, without worrying over being nice anymore. They tried to kill me, after all.


    ¡°Then you are in fact seeing me as I am, that makes it easier indeed. I was once a man, many many years ago. A man dedicated to research. I wanted to solve the intricacies I found in the world, but I always found more riddles. One of the riddles I sought to solve was that of life itself.¡±


    Wow, okay. So he is super creepy.


    ¡°Get to the point.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well. The Mages didn''t appreciate me ¡­ meddling in matters of the body and soul, because some of my research happened to touch upon the nature of Mana.¡±


    Mana? He knows about mana? This is getting interesting, I smell Ted, version two.


    Calm, Wil, calm.


    The twin must see my face and my excited twirling of the sword because he expedites his explanation.


    ¡°The Mages killed me. Before I died, I managed to split myself between these two bodies that I had been experimenting on. They are superior in most physical ways except they were never meant for the mind of a human. Hence, I am split.¡±


    I think I heard something really dubious right now. Human experimentation? I don''t like the sound of that.


    And I thought I was the one with issues... maybe I should kill him anyways?


    ¡°I''m really am sorry about attacking you right now. I was actually looking for you to see if you were alright.¡±


    Sure you were.


    ¡­


    ¡°Sure you were. Less excuses, more explaining.¡±


    ¡°I''m certain that the Mages found out about me by now, and when I saw your Ethul the other day at the Inn... I thought you might be one of them, but I wasn''t sure. Your Ethul is a strange one, I wasn''t even sure it was an Ethul. I''m still not sure, and I have seen far more Ethuls than most.¡±


    Oh. They must have seen the Ethul on the ground that day. I wasn''t that discreet in answering my door because I had just woken up. It doesn''t matter, it''s not my fault. Stop trying to shift the blame!


    ¡°Why. Did. You. Attack. Me. Then.¡± I don''t know how I can be any more clear.


    ¡°The speed of your body and your physical ability has always made me suspicious of you. Coupled with the Ethul, I thought that the Mages started using my research instead of destroying it. Finally, when I saw you coming towards me with your sword out... I became certain you were sent to kill me. You were oozing malice.¡±


    Okay. It might be partly my fault.


    I sigh inside my head. The twins have never caused me harm. No one knows much about them, and there are far stranger people in this world than them, I''m sure. They''re people I would have been tentative to call my friends before this...


    I lower the sword and point it at the ground. There is no point to kill them over a misunderstanding. The past is already the past. My headaches keep growing, however.


    ¡°In that regard, I''m sorry ¡­ wait, what do I even call you? Nem or Ilorem?¡± I reply.


    ¡°You can call me Nirolem. Nem is fine though.¡±


    ¡°I see, Nem then. I''m not going to kill you.¡±


    I drop the sword onto the ground. Nem''s relief is quite visible.


    ¡°Ah, I guess I should thank you? Since you are not going to kill me, could I ask how your body is like that? Is it some sort of experimentation? Is that an Ethul?¡± his eyes shine as he starts asking me questions brazenly. Not even a moment ago he was nervous that I would kill him, and now he is being pushy again.


    The resilience of the people in this world astounds me.


    ¡°The answers to most of your questions is that I don''t know.¡± I state with honesty.


    ¡°What do you mean? Don''t you have any idea?¡±


    ¡°The only answer I have is that it''s my fate.¡± I reply with a smirk and a shrug.


    ¡°Fate? What-¡±


    ¡°Shouldn''t we be getting back? I''m getting tired.¡± I brush him off with a lie, tired of this conversation, exhausted from questioning one of my few acquaintances and drained from being lost earlier. I can find out more about this later after I''ve had time to come to terms with my team leader being a weird hybrid human.


    Nem looks at me for a moment in thought.


    Come on, Nem. We''ve been here for a while and it''s only getting darker.


    ¡°You''re¡± ¡°right.¡± he says in tandem as his other self gets off the ground.


    ¡°Thank you. That is still creepy though.¡±


    He lets out a small laugh and I join him with a small smile.


    ¡°I wouldn''t mind talking about these details later¡± ¡°but for now it''s time to go kill some Stone Totems...¡±


    ¡°¡±Wil?¡±¡±


    ¡°Ya?¡±


    ¡°¡±I''d prefer if we could keep all of this between us.¡±¡±


    ¡°I couldn''t agree more.¡±


    ---

 Chapter 22 – Closets & Skeletons

    Authors Corner


    !gnidaer rof sknahT


    <hr />


    Chapter 22 ¨C Closets & Skeletons


    Wil


    The trip to Athem has been uneventful since my near deadly encounter with the twins, who are apparently one person, a person called Nem.


    The expedition has made it''s way along the dry rocky plains and is moving up towards the mountains that separate Gol from Athem. We''ve had a peaceful trip, aside from the stupid Flaebirds. I really don''t want to encounter those birds again. I don''t care how much they are worth. Everyone was dubious when I had returned, thinking that I had not done my duty.


    My body was back in perfect condition when I had returned with Nem. No scars could be seen from the cuts those stupid birds gave me. My cloak was a bit torn up, but I didn''t push the issue. With my excellent ears I picked up Jelt whispering to someone that I probably took a knife to it myself. I take back what I said about being sympathetic towards him.


    Jelt aside, the other regulars looked a little put off that they didn''t get to pad their pockets with the extra cash. Even Voxol is looking a bit grumpy, which is rare for the big man. I''m looking at him now as we walk, surprised that he is still grumpy days later. I wouldn''t think he would be the type. He''d be last on my list of people I''d expect to hold a grudge.


    Not being able to stand his gloomy atmosphere, I decide to attack head on. Verbally, that is.


    ¡°Are you irritated about having to walk?¡± I ask


    He grunts at me.


    ¡°Now that we''re going uphill we can''t add the extra load to the wagons you know.¡± I try to push Voxol to respond.


    ¡°No Wil, it''s not that. It''s the Flaebirds.¡± he says brusquely.


    Oh. So I was right.


    ¡°Look Voxol, I don''t see how it''s my fault that no one caught one, the rest of you couldn''t even cut them!¡± I defend myself, getting irritated at everyone''s accusing glares.


    ¡°That''s it exactly.¡± he replies with a sigh. ¡°I wasn''t even to hit those birds! Not one! And I call myself a warrior. I''m ashamed.¡±


    Oh.


    ''U-uh... that is... ¡°


    While I''m deciding on how to backpedal to cheer him up, he does so all by himself.


    ¡°Thanks for trying Wil, haha¡±


    I receive a hard slap on the back for my poor efforts. I think it''s a sign of endearment, but the force he is using is way too high. Oh well, it''s not like it actually hurts, at least not compared to the slap of a giant Walrus. I''m still uncomfortable with appearing to be too strong, so I wince and pretend to be sore from the slap. He looks happy that I''m wincing.


    It''s nice to see him back to himself.


    ¡°You''re fine again? Even though you were grumpy all this time? How does that even work?¡± I ask.


    ¡°As a warrior, moping is even worse than missing, haha! I didn''t realize how bad it was until I heard your wimpy attempts to save my feelings. Bah! Speak straight, man!¡± He says with a laugh and then a grimace.


    ¡°Not as wimpy as my attempts to swat at those birds.¡± I chuckle, pointing to the sword at my side.


    ¡°Ah! Did you manage to hit one? If you didn''t hit one, with your speed, then I don''t know why I''m being such a baby! Hahaha!¡±


    ¡°I tried really my best, but no, nothing but misses.¡± I can''t bring myself to say it, but if they weren''t making me bleed, and I didn''t suck with a sword, I probably could have damaged one, at least.


    ¡°Haha! Thought so! You looked proper banged up when Nem and Ilorem dragged you back. Speaking of them, did you ever ask them about their past or wassit that you wondered?¡±


    This slow man is oddly perceptive sometimes. Perhaps it''s a warriors intuition.


    ¡°No I haven''t had the time. I was too tired after dealing with those birds to ask them anything, and now that everyone is blaming me for losing the chance at some quick cash, I don''t want to be seen trying to suck up. That''s all they''d see if I were to talk to the twins.¡± I say, telling a half-truth.


    ¡°Bah! Who cares what they think. Live freely! Haha.¡±


    That advice ¡­ is probably terrible. The Vol like Voxolvol here aren''t well known for their planning ability. The island of Vol is a den of explosive population growth, held in check by the entire populace''s battle madness and love of deadly tournaments. Those who Luck favors happen to be dragged away by chance to see the world, and live past their twenties. The word ''plan'' probably isn''t even in their language. Thus, any advice from Voxol that does not pertain to battle is advice that I usually ignore.


    ¡°Thanks, that''s good advice.¡± I flat out lie, ¡°I mostly have to worry about Jelt though, he''s the jealous type, haha. If he sees me talking to the twins, there''s no doubt he''ll complain for days.¡± I say with a laugh, using the twins ambiguous attractiveness to my advantage.


    ¡°Haha that''s true! Don''t worry about the little man. I''ll give him a whack if he gets too talky. The twins aren''t busy with the trip right now, charge head first into battle, right?¡± Voxol offers with a wink.


    Wink? Why wink? I think he thinks I''m attracted to the twins, which is irksome, but misunderstandings aside, that''s not a bad offer.


    ¡°Then I''ll take you up on that, thanks Voxol.¡± I part ways with him to avoid a troublesome conversation and instead sidle over to the fancy wagon that the twins are on.


    Blast the advantages of leadership. I think it has cushioned seats.


    ¡°Mind if I join you?¡± I say as I hop up onto the wagon, making the question rhetorical. It almost sounds like a romantic proposition... What has Voxol put in my head, haha. Blast, I''m laughing like him too. Like they say, stupidity is infectious.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Sure.¡± one of the twins replies sardonically while the other one is busy studying the path ahead. I wonder how that works? Creepy.


    Voxol thinking the twins are attractive is pretty funny, for me, anyways. Thinking of the twins as attractive is something I cannot do. Mostly because they look so pale and thin anyone that saw what I see would mistake them for a skeleton masquerading as a human. Ah, well it turns out they are, and ''they'' is actually a ''he''. Not to mention that ''he'' is a very old man split between two bodies. Gross.


    I''ve had a chance to think about my circumstances. I don''t want to get involved in whatever weird experiments Nem is up to, but if he can tell me about magic... it''s too good to pass up. Sometimes you have to risk things to win at life, I think. In this case I don''t have to risk much. I''ll ask lots of questions and offer little in return. If he becomes problematic, it seems like it wouldn''t be too much trouble to kill him.


    ¡­


    I check to see if my Ethul is reacting to any danger around... No... That last thought about killing Nem was probably my own. Even if he has experimented on humans, I don''t want to think how ruthless I''ve become...


    ¡°Have you come to tell me all your Mage secrets or come to finish me off?¡± The closest Nem says to me in a quiet and prescient voice.


    ¡°The latter, of course.¡± I say with a smile and a tap of the sword on my side.


    It was a joke, but it''s reception was poor.


    Both Nem''s were leaning away from me with eyes narrowed, trying to discern my true intentions.


    ¡°That ¡­ was a joke. I was hoping to ask you some things.¡±


    ¡°Ah. Ask away.¡± Nem says cautiously, still not able to understand my amazing sense of humor.


    ¡°Why did you say my Ethul is strange?¡± I ask. I''ll focus on getting him to help me understand myself, and I''ll stay far away from questions about his experiments. I don''t think I want to know how many skeletons he has in his closet. I imagine there are more than a few.


    Yet again, he seems relieved by my words. I wonder if we''re both hoping I don''t ask the same thing?


    ¡°If it''s that much, it''s fine. Are you wearing it right now? Can I see it?¡±


    I nod and move part of my cloak aside to show him the Ethul underneath... I''m trying not to think about how this might look from the wrong angle, as he peers at my body.


    ¡°I don''t see any gold or silver woven into it, and it looks... really ugly... for an Ethul. You''re a step above wearing rags. Most people would think you''re a homeless Mage, and the more intelligent ones would realize that no Mage would ever be poor, and instead think you''re an unlucky Mage or a stealthy one, but I know better.¡±


    ¡°Wait, if you know better what does that make you?¡± I can''t help but quip.


    ¡°Really old.¡± Nem replies in monotone before continuing ¡°The reason you don''t see any Ethuls like that is because there aren''t any. Not that I know of, anyway. Gold and silver threads are needed to hold the ancient enchantments that make the Ethul famous.¡±


    ¡°What about the ones that aren''t all shiny?¡± I ask, thinking of what I''ve heard in the past about Magewear being vividly colored.


    ¡°The brightly colored robes are made for style or to distract enemies from the location of the threads. The threads still have to be woven in. I''ve seen many Ethuls, but all of them have the precious metals needed to hold their magic. Are you testing me? It''s a new type, isn''t it?¡± he asks, this time squinting at me with an indiscernible expression.


    ¡°I told you, I don''t have any answers.¡± I shake my head.


    ¡°Don''t have any for me, you mean.¡± he says with a hint of accusation.


    I don''t think there is a point going down this road with him, he probably will never believe me with what little I''m willing to tell him. He''ll have to keep his questions to himself or I''ll have to find someone else to tell me about magic.


    He is searching my face for the answer. Like I said, he won''t find it.


    ¡­


    ¡°Fine. Mages are known for playing games after all.¡±  he says something nostalgic with a resigned voice. It''s been a while since I''ve heard that, the last time it was from cranky old Sav, wherever he''s got off to. I can live with being called tricky.


    ¡°So what do you know about the abilities of an Ethul?¡± I ask, continuing on without humoring his inquisition.


    ¡°Increased stamina, increased body strength and agility, resistance to most of the basics, strangely including sleep. Mana storage and focus too, of course.¡± he lists off as if he were taking a test.


    ¡­


    This is exciting.


    I''ve figured out the first ones on my own, but the last part he mentioned I had no idea about. Mana storage? What''s that!? Focus? Mana Focus? Can I cast spells?


    For the first time in a long time, I see a path to my dream. Wizard powers, here I come. This man is a much better version of Ted, I''m not going to let this one go. As I''m lost in my jubilation, my misery catches up with me.


    ¡°Hey! What are you doing Wil? What is this, a secret meeting? What is going on!?¡± Jelt is yelling towards us.


    Are you kidding me Jelt? You make it sound like I''m having a tryst. Go away. I don''t know where you even came from.


    I really shouldn''t get this lost in thought. Last I saw he was in the back of the pack.


    ¡°Owww, that hurts! Why did you hit me Voxol? Why didn''t I see that coming?¡± he complains at Voxol who had come up from behind and hit him right after he yelled out.


    Voxol is looking at me, and as soon as our eyes meet, he gives me another wink and a thumbs up.


    Yet another headache has welled up before I even noticed.


    ---

 Chapter 23 – Rock on through to the other side

    Authors Corner


    Thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 23 ¨C Rock on through to the other side


    Wil


    Evening.


    We have so many members in our expedition that I can barely remember the regulars.


    I didn''t have much of a chance to talk to the Nems after Jelt interrupted, because soon thereafter the duties of the leader made him unable to spare the time. All the different members of the expedition kept coming to him with all sorts of things. Most of them I didn''t recognize.


    People in the group occasionally nod their head at me or give me a small smile of recognition. I return the niceties, but I have no idea who they are. I suppose that they are random expeditionary members that I''ve worked with before. They must remember my face from all the times they''ve seen me running away from the monsters they were killing.


    One of those such anonymous members was coming up to me now, trying to explain something as he did. I have no idea who he is. We have enough members on this expedition that we could count as a small army.


    ¡°- you should come, I think he is on to something, it''s important.¡± says the person. I nod reflexively, but in my head I''m just thinking of him as ''person'' and wonder if I should bother learning some of the other names.


    I wasn''t really paying attention to what he was saying in the first place because I didn''t know he was even talking to me.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±  He is turning around to leave though in a way that indicates that I''m supposed to follow. I think I will. I''ll admit I''m curious that anyone would want to tell me something.


    He winds through our temporary shelters and ends up at a rustic looking tent near the edge of our nightly camp.


    ¡°He''s in there¡± he points inside as he lifts a flap, the tent is probably only big enough for a couple people, anyway.


    Ok. I kind of wish I knew what I was getting into here, but it''s a little late to ask for an explanation.


    As I duck my head to get through the opening and lift it again squinting due to the dim light. What I wouldn''t give for a lightbulb.


    Oh, there it is again, a whisper from the past. How long has it been since I''ve thought about a lightbulb? And all the othe-


    Before I have a chance to consider the ramifications of this, I''m interrupted by the other occupant of the tent.


    ¡°Wil?¡± I recognize this dusty voice, it''s our quiet scout, Owen.


    ¡­


    ¡°Yup.¡± I haven''t really talked to Owen, nor do I know the situation, so I don''t have much else to say.


    ¡°Good. You''ve already heard?¡±


    My eyes are adjusting now, I can make out Owens face as he''s lying down on small bed made for travel. He''s not looking like his normal content self, he looks a little pained. Smelling the air, I notice the scent of medicine. Ah.


    ¡°A little... you''re hurt? Why don''t you start from the top.¡± I reply, hoping to make sense of anything.


    ¡°Ya, I got a couple slices. Didn''t even see them. Definitely human. I was scouting the usual path through the mountains to Athem, although it''s been a while since I''ve been out in these parts. It wasn''t carelessness, they had the drop on me and a few of the other scouts. Kivas got cut right into his neck before we realized anyone was there.¡±


    ¡°Our scouts were attacked? Why would bandits do that, there''s no profit in killing scouts.¡±


    ¡°It''s as you say, but they weren''t bandits. Cuts were too clean, all had the same blades from what I could see. They were military.¡±


    ¡­


    So much for us having a small armies worth of people. Who would be attacking our expedition? Up until recently I would have said that the twins have an amazing reputation, and practically no enemies, but now I know differently. This doesn''t sound like something the Mages would do, though.


    ¡°Okam?¡±


    ¡°I would say it''s a fair chance.¡±


    ¡°No offense, but why are you telling me this? You should take this right to the Twins.¡±


    At this, Owen looks a little offended.


    ¡°Of course I already have, I sent one of the others to report. If the twins have questions, they''ll come.¡±


    ¡­


    I don''t feel like apologizing when I''m not even really sure why he''s insulted. I''ll plead ignorance and barrel through.


    ¡°Why did you come get me then? I''m the person who runs around dodging monsters...¡±


    ¡°Yes, that''s exactly why I wanted you to come.¡±


    I have a feeling I''m not going to like this.


    ¡°Listen, Wil, you''re one of the fastest people I''ve ever seen.¡± he starts off with praise.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    I have a feeling I''m really not going to like this.


    ¡°So when I was thinking about how we can get over the mountain safely, I remembered that there is another path.¡± he continues on.


    Here it comes.


    ¡°It just so happens that you''re speed is exactly what we need to get through it. It''s a path very few can say they''ve crossed, you''d be the first in a while. You''d be an explorer.¡±


    Owen, for a quiet guy, you''re pretty crafty.


    When I first met this bunch of misfits, they all greeted me in their own ways and tried to get a feeling for how useful I was, what my plans were, and if I was planning on betraying them. So I''ve been asked many times what my goals are. I answered them with two of my top three goals. Number one is of course to be a wizard, but it''s not something I want to share.


    The other two are to get rich and explore the world. They''re honest goals of mine so everyone was satisfied with my answers.


    Owen is currently trying to use my goals against me, to probably get me to do something dangerous.


    ¡°What do the twins have to say about this path of yours?¡± I ask skeptically.


    ¡°I didn''t want to bring it up, in case it wasn''t an option. They or the others might pressure you into it otherwise. I don''t think it''s something you can manage if you''re not at your best.¡±


    I don''t know how he keeps sounding like a good person while saying all these enticing things.


    ¡°What exactly do I have to do?¡±


    Owen smiles like he caught a critter in one of his traps.


    ¡°There are tunnels running all throughout the mountain range. Some are creatures'' dens and some are from vigorous mining back when this land was first settled. There is one area in particular that should let us cross to Athem far faster than if we take the normal route winding through the mountains and then back around.¡±


    I can follow so far, Athem is actually quite close to Gol-ta, but because it is surrounded by the thickest part of the mountain range, you usually have to go around, which can take weeks.


    ¡°How much faster?¡±


    ¡°We could be in Athem in a day, maybe two.¡±


    Athem is close, but not that close...


    ¡°Is the plan for me to carry everyone through the tunnels? Because even with my speed, Athem is way too far for it to take a day or two.¡±


    ¡°No, no, it isn''t that. These tunnels are special.¡± he says patiently. ¡°We need you to act as a Trailblazer so that the rest of the group doesn''t get lost.¡±


    ¡°Trailblazer? Why would you need me to lead the group, isn''t that the Scout''s job?¡± I still get confused over expedition terminology, but I''m fairly certain I''ve never heard of a position called a Trailblazer.


    ¡°The skills of a scout aren''t suited for these tunnels. A Trailblazer used to be popular in expeditions in the past, when different party compositions helped them conquer this land.¡±


    It sounds to me like all the Trailblazers died because they got tricked by Scouts to do the dumb jobs.


    ¡°What''s so different about these tunnels?¡± I ask


    ¡°They were formed by either an ancient creature or ancient magic, but they are sections of tunnel separated by time. A Trailblazer is one who runs faster than any other. It was a Trailblazer who navigated it successfully the first time.¡±


    Ancient magic? Time? What?


    ¡°As far as I''ve heard, it''s possible as long as you''re fast enough. I know a few retired Trailblazers that told me about it after having passed through it themselves. It was a test of sorts to prove their worth of the position, as well as a competition to see who could get the fastest time. All it requires is pure speed, and the path is random. After a short period of time has elapsed, the sections of the tunnel will reset themselves to a different point in time, taking anyone inside along with it. Since the magic doesn''t trigger unless someone enters the section, and it''s random when it does, it''s impossible to map out. It can only be crossed if someone is fast enough to enter all the sections from the entrance to the exit before any section resets. The reason it''s so short is that there aren''t that many sections between the entrance and exit, it should only take a few hours from end to end. I know you can do at least that much, Wil. You might even set a Trailblazer record.¡± he lectures me barely stopping. He seems awfully excited for a wounded person.


    ¡°So, Wil, how about it? Are you in?¡±


    Magic tunnels? My head is spinning from how complicated it sounds, and I''m sure there is more to it, but for now I''m pretty excited.


    He doesn''t know it, but he had me at ''Magic''.


    ---

 Chapter 24 – Whisper me neat nothings

    Authors Corner


    Thanks for reading!


    <hr />


    Chapter 24 ¨C Whisper me neat nothings


    Wil


    Rock. Rock everywhere, it''s all I see. It''s all even, slightly porous and totally boring rocks all around me.


    It makes sense, I''m standing in a tunnel system that cuts through the mountain range, after all. The part that doesn''t make sense is how clinical these tunnels feel. Strange angles and triangular slopes to the walls and corners makes me think it''s some sort of puzzle. All the walls are a dull gray rock that has been perfectly flattened by some mysterious means. There are splits and turns that take sharp corners at differing angles. Some tunnels even lead upwards branching off the ceiling and some have faint slopes leading down. If not for gravity, it would seem like all paths are equally viable.


    The other expedition members are freaked out by the construction of this place. Architecture in Gol-ta is limited to using blocks of stone to construct buildings larger than a few stories. Meanwhile I''m feeling nostalgic. The precision of it all reminds me of the past, but of course I''m not sure how.


    I don''t really need to worry about it though. All I have to do is run.


    Running is what I can do, so I''m doing it.


    Run here. Run there.


    It''s a simple job, albeit dubious. But I don''t mind. I''m having fun.


    Owen told me to take it easy this first lap. I have to take this tracing powder and only look forward as I search around for the exit. Once I''ve found the exit I''m supposed to follow the powder back to see if I''ve crossed my own path.


    I didn''t quite believe him at first, but he kept assuring me that as long as I don''t turn around, and move forwards on the level path, instead of taking a sloped one, I''ll reach the exit. It feels like a maze, but I can clearly see the tracing powder as I spread it on the ground. I''m careful not to turn around to look, because of the various warnings Owen gave me on how easily I would get lost if I did.


    Wow, this tracing powder is strange. It''s light and fluffy and rainbow colored.


    The colorful tracing powder is quite fascinating. It is only visible if you are moving in the same direction it was laid, but if it''s crossed with powder from the same bag and left to sit, the intersections of the trails will appear. I didn''t really understand the point, but is normally meant for expedition members to follow each other on multiple-day expeditions, without leaving a trail for bandits to easily stumble across.


    I''ve been so excited about spreading this strange powder that I might have gotten a little out of control.


    Before I realized it, I''ve already reached the exit. I can see light from outside filtering down from a craggy path leading upwards. Owen mentioned that the exit would look nothing like the rest of the tunnels, so this must be it.


    I''m not sure what happened, but I don''t think it took more than twenty minutes. That is definitely a record. I made sure to ask Owen how fast the records were for the Trailblazers coming through and the fastest had managed to make it end to end in thirty. I asked because I don''t want to see a resurgence of the Trailblazer position. If the expedition position made a comeback, the leader of that position would undoubtedly be me. I can see people scrambling to find out how I''m so fast, and thinking about it gives me the shivers.


    When it comes to my current time... I feel sorry for that poor Trailblazer. I broke the record without even trying. Haha.


    Now that I''ve laid all the powder I think I''ll head back along this path.


    Wow this powder is sparkly!


    ---


    The laps are getting shorter now that the rest of the expedition has begun crossing the sections. It wasn''t until I made it back to the entrance that they could start. What was it that Owen said again? Ah, that''s right. They need to wait to make sure I''ve cleared the length of the tunnels before they can begin crossing.


    They''re about a third of the way through now. That means I only have to run two thirds the distance to meet up with them. We don''t care if the sections behind us reset, as long as we make it through. In the end, I think the entire trip only takes as long as the slowest person in the back.


    We certainly have some stragglers. I haven''t seen Owen either. Where did he get off to?


    There''s that scratching sound behind me again. It''s empty and faint, but I can feel it reverberate in my chest. It''s so tempting to turn around and look, but Owen said that''s the last thing I should do.


    I wonder why Owen told me to not look behind me?


    I think I''ll listen to him, wherever he is. It seems to be going fine so far. The sound just makes me curious. I''ve tried my best with the common sense of the people of this world, but the common sense of monsters and magic is beyond me. When someone like our scout tells me to walk forward without looking behind me, there is probably a good reason. One which wouldn''t help me to know, if he didn''t explain it.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡­


    There it is again, still faint. It''s a slight screeching sound this time. Almost like the whine of a fan belt in an old car Car? Why haven''t I thought about cars since I''ve got here?


    ¡­


    Would you shut up back there? I''m not even finished this last and that talkative fellow behind me just keeps whispering away. I''ll tear his lips off if he doesn''t stop.


    ¡­


    Maybe ¡­ just a peek? No...


    As long as I keep running the distance between the exit and the section that the expedition members are currently in, we won''t get all turned around in time.


    The twins had mentioned they had heard of these tunnels as well, and they seem to have heard the same things as Owen. I meet with one of the Nems every lap. They give me a quick update, I take a quick rest for appearances sake, then I start running again. It''s strange that I have only seen the one Nem though. Owen is missing too.


    ¡­


    There''s it is yet again. It''s almost a whisper. It reminds me of the old record players I used to listen to. Scratching out my fa-


    ¡­


    What was that?


    ¡­


    That was an actual sound. It sounded like a footstep.


    Is there actually a human back there?


    I''m a few minutes from the group and the exit right now, maybe I''ll wait until I get closer until I look?


    ¡­


    Whisper whisper whisper. Stop it! Who are you?


    ¡­


    ¡­


    I wonder who is talking behind my back, hahahaha.


    I''ll punch them if they don''t stop.


    ---


    I''m on edge.


    I realize I''m losing it. I don''t know when it started this time. We''ve been in here for a few hours already, but it feels like it''s been days to me. The rest of the expedition isn''t handling it well either. People are getting disoriented by the strange design of all these paths and once or twice someone has tried to go down the wrong one.


    I want this to be over with.


    I think I might have Teleported again, a short distance, I can''t be sure. I''m getting kind of hazy on the details. I could have had a mental lapse instead. So much for excitement.


    The whispers weren''t so bad the first few laps but I have to drown out the whispers with my own voice.


    Essentially... I''m talking to myself. Except it''s out loud for once.


    ¡°Wooooooooo!¡±


    It feels appropriate.


    I think the whispers and the scratching are in fact happening along my brain stem. It''s like something is trying to crawl into my head.


    I really want to punch something to burn off this adrenaline, but punching these perfect and angular walls feels dangerous, somehow.


    ¡­


    Maybe a little punch?


    ¡­


    ¡°Wil!?¡±


    With my fist raised, I turn around to look directly at the source.


    Whoops. It''s really dark behind me. Was it always that dark? The tunnels aren''t even lit in the first place...


    Who''s th-


    Oh it''s Nem.


    ¡°Hi Nem.¡±


    ¡°Wil... are you okay?¡± Nem says as he steps closer, out of the shadows.


    Is it safe? Is that a real person?


    Should I punch it?


    Hmm. Nem has a backup, right? It''d be fine to kill one for safety.


    ¡°Wil, it''s been half an hour and we haven''t seen you. What have you been doing here? You''re not running?¡± Nem asks. He has real concern on his normally impassive face.


    Not running though. Have I not been running? It feels like this lap has taken me a while.


    When did I stop to try to punch the wall?


    Nem reaches out with his hand, reaching for me.


    His fingers are hooking. Like claws.


    Attack?


    Attack?


    ¡­


    No. I''ve dealt with this before.


    I won''t let this damn piece of clothing control me.


    Nem''s hand is coming slow enough that it couldn''t possibly be an attack. My rational mind is telling me this.


    What is he doing then? I think it''s because I haven''t been responding.


    He gives my shoulder a good shake.


    ¡°Hello? Wake up? Wil?¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah. I guess I was just tired.¡± I can overcome my fears. I won''t let my fears overcome me. Nem is here to help, there is no reason to hit him.


    Nem gives me another small smile.


    ¡°Coming through the ruins might have been a bad idea after all, for a Mage.¡±


    Ruins?


    I take it back.


    I''m going to drive my fist right through his skull.


    Both of them.


    ---

 Chapter 25 – Oh! What a tangled web they weave

    Authors Corner


    There might be a 3-4 day break after either this chapter or the next. Not sure yet.


    So if you don''t see any chapters for a few days, don''t panic.


    <hr />


    Chapter 25 ¨C Oh! What a tangled web they weave


    Wil


    ¡°Woah! Wil? What are you doing?¡± Nem yells as I take a swing at him.


    Nem dodges out of the way of my fist.


    I missed...


    ¡°Wil? Are you finally trying to kill me? The others are right nearby.¡± Nem looks around nervously, as if willing other people to show up.


    I missed on purpose. I only wanted to vent a little frustration. This might be unexpectedly quite fun, however.


    Nem sees me smirking and becomes even more worried.


    ¡°Is the mana in here corrupting you?¡± he asks warily.


    I see, I see. An interesting subject.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I reply as a I slowly lower my fist.


    Nem sees me reign in my onslaught and takes his time to compose himself. He then acts to dust himself off from his dodge, even though this place has no dust.


    I stifle a laugh. Being dignified looks like such a hassle.


    I wonder how this... dignified personage ¡­ in front of me thought that I was suffering from mana corruption? Does he know something I don''t about the Ethul? Maybe my body?


    ¡°This place is old and rarely used, but entry is technically forbidden by the Mages because of the strange mana here, as far as I have heard.¡± Nem replies.


    ¡°I thought Owen had explained some of the history of this place to you.¡± he continues on.


    I shake my head dumbly. Maybe I should punch Owen instead?


    ¡°Really? That''s odd. Even the Trailblazers of the past were wary of this place, because of what hides in solitude here. When forced into traveling this path, they''d race through like their lives depended on it.¡±


    Rest in peace Owen, you sounded like such a nice fellow.


    ¡°What hides in the solitude?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Well, according to some, it''s yourself.¡±


    ¡°Myself?¡± I ask as I look at all my body parts to make sure none have escaped me.


    Nem sees me taking stock of myself and lets slip a sardonic laugh.


    ¡°How do I have such an incompetent warden? No, Wil. Not your body, but you, unstuck in time. There is strange magic related to time and space here. You should know that, you''re a Mage.¡±


    ¡°I''m not a Mage.¡± I growl.


    My growl might have contained too much of my glistening teeth because Nem backs away suddenly. The atmosphere here keeps sneaking up on my composure.


    ¡°Okay, okay, Wil. I get it. This place is obvious forbidden for a reason. We definitely won''t come back this way once we''re finished this job. We''re almost through now, so it won''t be long. You only have a few more laps. Will you be able to ¡­ keep it together, until then?¡±


    My growl has already receded, so I just quietly nod my head, not trusting my words too much right now. This place is interesting, more so then I had previously thought. I think I have been hearing bits of my past life. I want to stay to listen but I''m worried about the effect it will have on me. I might regain my memories at the cost of my sanity.


    Is staying, trying to weave together the threads of my past worth unraveling my future?


    Nem speaks, as if to answer this heavy question, but the words of his take me somewhere else entirely.


    ¡°By the way, have you seen Owen? I don''t really care anymore after all this trouble he''s caused, but my other self can''t see him right now amongst the others. Someone saw him take off down the path, saying he needed to talk to you, but here you are, and he''s nowhere to be seen.¡±


    I think I''ll punch Owen too.


    ---


    Wil


    The final lap.


    We''re nearing the end now. We''re close enough to the exit that I can stop running. I am traveling with the others until we reach the exit.


    We haven''t seen Owen. It''s somewhat strange that he, of all people, disappeared. He''s a phenomenal Scout, so it doesn''t make sense that he got lost. He''s the one that told me how to safely get through these tunnels in the first place.


    ¡°Where do you think he went?¡± I ask a Nem. The two of us kept it between us that he went missing, because we didn''t want to cause a panic.


    ¡°I''m not sure. I don''t actually know why he insisted on coming down here so strongly in the first place. Even if a small army were to attack us on the normal path around the mountains, we''d probably escape with only a death or two.¡± Nem states.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Wow. It''s clear how much he actually values his minions.


    ¡°Why''d you agree on coming down this way then?¡± I ask, confused.


    ¡°Well, I wanted to see it myself, for starters. I agreed with Owen that with you here, we had a good chance of making it through. At least I thought so until I saw you standing there talking to yourself.¡± he says while glaring at me, ¡°if you had lost it on us, we all would have died, you know?¡±


    ¡°It was your decision in the first place, I knew nothing about that place.¡± I defend myself.


    Nem frowns.


    ¡°I don''t really believe you, but you''re right that it was my decision. I''m not sure what came over me, I think I relied to heavily on the opinion of a newcomer.¡±


    ¡°Whose opinion?¡±


    ¡°Owen''s.¡±


    Wait wait wait. Now it''s my turn to frown.


    ¡°Hasn''t Owen been a regular in the expedition for a couple years?¡± I ask.


    ¡°No, he only joined around... I think it was a month before you.¡± Nem''s frown is even deeper.


    ¡°Wait, isn''t that strange? Why is he treated as a senior member?¡± I ask


    ¡°He joined with high recommendations, and proved himself to be the most capable Scout, by far.¡± Nem says, obviously thinking about it too.


    ¡°Who recommended him?¡±


    At my question, Nem''s face lights up.


    ¡°Now that I think about it, it was a retired Scout and a Trailblazer. They both were probably the last people to travel through here.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°Do you think that''s a coincidence?¡± I ask


    ¡°I would have said yes, before I actually walked through here myself. Having well known retired members endorse you is not uncommon, even if you share a specific place in common. For all I know, he could have lived around here his whole life and met them when they were out this way on an expedition. It just so happens he knew about traveling through here, and then somehow got lost. This sort of story is heard often.¡±


    ¡°What is it then?¡±


    ¡°This place is different. I can''t see any friendship made over a place like this to be ordinary. This place has enough power that I can feel it, as poor as my mana affinity is. I''m not well versed enough to know what that power is, but I think it''s pretty evident that it is some form of ancient magic.¡± he says while giving me a pointed look.


    ¡°Like I have said to you many ti-¡± I say before I get cut off.


    ¡°Sure, Wil, sure. Thinking about it though, I don''t think Owen was a Mage himself. He could have always been a magic user, but that means there could be some artifact here that a magic user would find useful, I don''t see how any artifact that a magic user would use could be worth getting lost in time though. They aren''t worth all that much.¡±


    ¡°Is there some secret here that we don''t know about?¡±


    ¡°I''m sure there are many secrets here that I don''t know about. I can''t say the same about you.¡± Nem laughs quietly.


    As I''m about to refute him, a call from in front grabs Nem''s attention.


    ¡°It looks like I am needed, as much as I''d love to, I can''t keep playing games with you all day, Wil.¡± Nem says with a touch of sarcasm.


    Nem takes off with that, leaving me to solve the riddle myself.


    ---


    I''ve been straggling in thought as we reach the end of the tunnels. I''m at the back of the group now, and one of the Nems has dropped back again to keep an eye on me.


    Everyone else has started up the craggy path to see sunlight once more.


    I''m the last to go.


    ¡°Ah, Wil. Come on, let''s go. He''s gone or he''s not, but either way, we won''t find him.¡± Nem says to me.


    I agree that it''s time to go. I''d like to get back to being entirely lucid.


    As I lift my foot to take the final step off the dull gray rock, I hear one final whisper. Without even a thought to the danger I turn around. It''s only for a moment, but I catch a glimpse of something.


    It was almost insubstantial, but I caught a glimpse of a dusty looking gray creature with many thin spindly legs and many more tiny black eyes.


    Although it was inhuman, it had a pleasant look about it, as if it was smiling with it''s sharp edged maw. It gave off the feel like it would be the kind of creature you could have a beer and a chat with, like an old friend.


    How strange...


    As my last step took me away from this odd place, I was even more lost in thought. One thing kept coming into my mind for me to mull over, again and again.


    For some reason, the spider-like being reminded me Owen.


    ---