《The Mortal Shard》 The Day Death Died The Day Death Died
Oarsrest Village Ilythia Eleven hours Post Surgence Rengi was alive. Which, by all accounts, should have been impossible. He lay upon his back, staring up at an open, cloudless sky. It must have been mid afternoon, yet he could have sworn the world had been bathed in twilight when he¡¯d been ambushed in the woods. He reached for his throat, certain he would find a ruined mess of sinew and flesh. Instead, his fingers were met with smooth, unmarred skin. It didn¡¯t make any sense. One of the wolves had torn out his throat, he was sure of it. Moments ago, he¡¯d been choking on his own blood. His full recollection was hazy at best, but he remembered those final moments with frightening clarity. He¡¯d been fighting to tear his arm loose from the jaws of one beast, only to be taken down from behind by another. Something warm and slick had closed around his neck. His skin yielded to the creature¡¯s fangs and at first, all he felt was a dull, tingling pressure. He couldn¡¯t feel his legs, nor his arms, nor the entirety of his body from the neck down. Then, agony had burned through what little he could feel like an untamed fire. Blood bubbled up between his lips and though he could no longer feel them, his lungs sputtered and seized. The darkness that had taken him had been a release, an end to his pain. And now here he lay. Had it all been some terrible nightmare? He wasn¡¯t in bed, that much was clear. Cold, wet mud squished along his exposed back and a temperate breeze caressed certain intimate flesh that had no business being left to the scrutiny of the sun. He squinted through his blurred vision. Were those rooftops running along the edges of his sight? Or were they simply trees distorted by the lack of clarity? He rubbed at his eyes, only to realize what he saw were, in fact, a familiar arrangement of thatched roofs. Hesitantly, he sat up and found himself lying beside the massive, crystalline spirit stone at the center of his town square. Its proud pillars pulsed with unfamiliar energy, momentarily distracting him from the fact he was completely and utterly bare. He felt eyes along his back and his skin prickled. He wasn¡¯t fortunate enough to be the square¡¯s sole occupant, was he? His cheeks grew hot as he twisted around to see. People were staring, having paused their comings and goings through the spring market in order to gawk. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Mordreth bleed and bury him¨C death might be preferable to this, after all. Had said goddess truly seen fit to reject him? Or was this all some elaborate prank? Both sounded unlikely, so maybe he¡¯d been kicked by a horse? It would explain the confusion, his blurred vision, but not his current state of undress. Could he be hallucinating¨C ¡°Rengi?¡± The feminine gasp brought him up short. He whirled, torn between relief and outright mortification at the sight of his betrothed, ¡°Sabine?¡± The young woman¡¯s brown eyes were wide, flitting from him, to the spirit stone, and back again in disbelief. ¡°H¨Chow did you do that?¡± He frowned, twisting his lower half away to preserve what little modesty he had left, ¡°Do what?¡± ¡°Appear in that flash of blue light.¡± He glanced around as if he might find the answer hidden among the crowd. ¡°I have no idea. I¡¯m . . . not even sure how I got here.¡± He¡¯d been dying one moment and materializing here the next. None of it made any sense. What was worse? He was fairly certain neither experience was a dream. It was real. But how? Womp. The spirit stone at his back began to hum. Womp. Energy pulsed through the square, drawing gasps and shouts of alarm. Womp. A blue light seeded in the heart of the crystal cluster, growing brighter and brighter with each subsequent pulse. Rengi scrambled back, wanting nothing to do with the stone or its strange new magic. For all he knew, it would send him somewhere else, somewhere worse. Gods, what if it took Sabine this time? Fear for her safety had him on his feet and closing the distance between them, modesty be damned. He took her hand and led her further into the crowd, away from danger. Let someone else be taken this time. Light flashed and a body appeared to the left of the spiritstone. Like Rengi, the elderly man was wholly naked. The terminal emaciation of his body left his grey skin stretched over far too much bone, spine and hips jutting like crags from a hillside. In truth, he was more corpse than man and Rengi couldn¡¯t help but wonder if he was already dead. He didn¡¯t so much as twitch. But then, one of his legs moved and he sucked in a wheezing breath. ¡°Is that elder Branar?¡± Someone asked. ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± Sabine said, ¡°My father¡¯s at home. He¡¯s been bedridden for weeks.¡± Sick with the flux, if Rengi recalled correctly. Last he had heard, the man had taken a turn for the worst and was practically on death¡¯s door. Realization began to sink in and a new sort of unease wound its way through Rengi¡¯s gut. Had the elder died too? Chapter One: Curiosity Often Kills the Cat Chapter One

Curiosity Often Kills the Cat

¡°The division of Orenthia¡¯s heart ensured the power of the spirit stones could never be wielded by a single hand, be it god or mortal. To brandish one half is to forsake the other.¡± ¨C Sealed correspondence uncovered by Magistra Saranna Featherstone of Her Grace¡¯s Order of Radiance The Braddock Estate San Francisco 7:30pm Local Time When Olivia¡¯s manager had asked if she was willing to help cater on her day off, she¡¯d leapt at the opportunity. Ordinarily, personal days were sacred. Much as she enjoyed what she did, she needed a break from the weddings, the graduations and those bullshit corporate parties upper management held in order to congratulate themselves and blow smoke up each others¡¯ asses. She rarely made exceptions unless one of her close coworkers were sick or if an event was of particular interest to her. Tonight was both. If the rumors were to be believed, the private auction being held at the Braddock Estate was invitation only and perhaps, not entirely legal. It had been the talk of the Silver Brothers catering staff for weeks. In truth, Liv had been tempted to retract her personal day when the event had been announced, but with everyone else clamoring for the chance to attend, even as staff, her chances of being squeezed onto an already bloated schedule had been next to zero. So, she had accepted her fate and planned an extravagant night of her own binging Bridgerton and eating ice cream. Until of course, she¡¯d received her manager¡¯s text that morning. One of the other waitresses had fallen sick and Liv was first on the list of alternates. Of course she had said yes. She would have been a fool not to. Not only were the tips bound to be generous, but a formal masquerade ball was to be held before the night¡¯s main event. Liv may not be able to participate in the dancing for herself, but that didn¡¯t mean she couldn¡¯t admire the dresses and the grandeur of the whole affair. Or marvel over whatever mysterious items were being sold tonight. The entire staff had been required to sign NDA¡¯s upon arrival, so whatever they were, they had to be worthwhile. The shady undertone of it all made it all the more alluring, somehow. As part of the evening¡¯s dress code, everyone, including the event staff, were required to wear masks at all times with no exceptions. They weren¡¯t your typical run of the mill masquerade masks either, but elaborate facades more akin to art pieces than accessories. They were as much a fashion statement as they were a means of preserving one¡¯s identity, for it was impossible to discern the upper half of anyone¡¯s face. And that was if they weren¡¯t wearing a full cover. The white fox masks the event staff had been provided were no exception either. Telling one waitress from another throughout the night had become more difficult than Liv had anticipated and she had to rely on the color, style and length of their hair in order to properly identify anyone. With her free hand, Liv discreetly tugged down the thigh-length skirt of her silver cocktail dress. It was a company staple, but here, she couldn¡¯t help but feel out of place. The mansion hosting tonight¡¯s event was not the usual bland, modern monstrosity of an airbnb she was accustomed to. Instead of sleek, yet uninspiring decor, everything was warm and tasteful. She found herself in a living, breathing home fashioned after a Mediterranean villa. It was situated at the top of a lush hillside overlooking a private lake in prime wine country. Vineyards occupied the lower slopes, the stone brick of the storage and manufacturing houses serving to highlight the cozy, small-family operation feel. The damn estate even had its own botanical garden complete with ornate fountains and mosaic paths that led to hidden hollows amid the carefully manicured foliage. Music filled every corner of the mansion¡¯s walls; a pleasant, clear arrangement given life by a live quartette rather than some half-baked DJ¡¯s spotify playlist. It was a pleasant change of pace. She wouldn¡¯t mind serving more classy affairs like these. She¡¯d have to ask her manager, Eric, about similar events in the future. Until then, she squared her shoulders and focused on the task at hand. She negotiated the tables and crowd with a practiced ease and a professional smile. It was easy to lose herself in her work, to hold a smile that wasn¡¯t forced, in a place like this. The guests were pleasant, the gowns exquisite and the dancing utterly entrancing to the eye. As the night wore on, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder what it would be like to be swept up in the arms of some handsome stranger. Her cheeks flushed at the notion, though. She was a waitress, not the heroine of some wish-fulfilling period drama. Maybe it was time to switch up her to-watch list. Apparently, those damn regency shows were starting to mess with her priorities. Shaking her head, she made her way out to the main garden with a fresh round of champagne. The night air was crisp, refreshing and laced with the faintest scent of phlox and freshly cut grass. The break from the humidity inside made it easier for her to ignore her aching feet and the uncomfortable pitch in her lower back brought on by a pair of heels that were far more fashionable than they were functional. ¡°Excuse me,¡± said a charming voice off to her left. Liv offered a polite, practiced smile as she pivoted on her heel. ¡°Care for a drink?¡± She asked, offering her polished tray of crystalline glasses. ¡°Please,¡± he said, offering her an easy smile from beneath his ornate mask. There was a certain lilt to his voice, an accent she couldn¡¯t quite place. Given the number of apparent international guests in attendance tonight, he could be from just about anywhere in the world. A part of her envied him for that. She couldn¡¯t help but wonder who he was to warrant such an exclusive invitation; what money he¡¯d been born to that allowed him to come and go as he pleased. From what little she could see of his face, he appeared to be in his late twenties, tall, with a build that suggested he did far more than lounge about in some garden or office all day. His dark brown hair was a shade shy of black and worn loose around his ears in soft, feathering curls. Was he some fancy diplomat? The heir to some priceless fortune? Or was he just another CEO with too much time on his hands? Much as he matched the class and air of his fellow attendees, there was something about him she couldn¡¯t discern. An otherness, perhaps? Whoever he was, she had the sense that he didn¡¯t quite fit. Ultimately, she supposed it didn¡¯t matter, though. To her, he was just another guest, one among hundreds who likely bore equally enthralling stories. She could speculate the nature of their exciting lives later. With a grin, she offered him his choice of the platter. ¡°Enjoying the evening?¡± She asked, making casual conversation. ¡°Quite. It¡¯s been a rather charming affair, but I find myself eager for the main event, if I¡¯m honest,¡± he said, making his selection. ¡°You and everyone else,¡± she chuckled, ¡°I myself am curious to see what all the fuss is about.¡± He smirked, dark blue eyes dancing in what might have been amusement, ¡°They haven¡¯t told you?¡± ¡°I know there¡¯s a private auction, but the specifics of what¡¯s actually being sold has been a matter of debate ,¡± she said. ¡°I cannot say I¡¯m entirely surprised. The items in question are of particular interest, shall we say?¡± Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Liv arched an eyebrow, not that he could see it beneath her mask. Particular could mean any number of things. Or it could mean nothing at all. For all she knew, he could be toying with her as a means of passing the time. ¡°I imagine they¡¯d have to be, considering the diversity of the clientele.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know the half of it,¡± he chortled, then tipped his glass to her with the faintest of smiles before setting off down one of the adjacent paths. ¡°What an enlightening conversation,¡± she muttered under her breath. With a soft sigh, she shoved down her disappointment. He didn¡¯t exactly owe her any answers, but she had been hoping for something. When she had the chance, she¡¯d have to ask the other girls if they¡¯d learned anything interesting during their own passes. In the meantime, Liv saw to distributing the remainder of her drinks to those along the outskirts of the garden and dancefloor before returning to the kitchen for some small reprieve. Mercifully, the clients had been kind enough to set aside one of the drawing rooms to accommodate the servers while on break. They had also instructed the chefs to set aside some extra food and drink as well, which she was more than happy to take advantage of. It wasn¡¯t often that the servers were spoiled while on duty and at the insistence of the hosts, no less. The fact they had paid extra to see to the welfare of the staff of the catering company they¡¯d hired was generous, to say the least. However, she was careful not to overindulge. She was an employee of the night¡¯s festivities, sure, but she was also a guest in this house. She had no intention of taking advantage of the owner¡¯s hospitality. Not only would it be bad for business, but in her mind, it was common decency. Plate in hand, she made her way down the adjacent hall toward the designated breakroom, the door of which had been left open. The other four lining the hall were, presumably, locked with so many guests about. Liv couldn¡¯t blame them. She wasn¡¯t one for snooping, but she could only imagine what some of those rooms held. She¡¯d heard gossip around the ballroom about a private museum in the home as well, which for some reason, wasn¡¯t entirely surprising. The rich often had more than the essentials in their homes. In a mansion like this, a private library or museum was far more fitting than a VR or laser tag room. For a time, Liv had little beyond her imagination to keep her company while she ate. Per usual, their phones had been collected beforehand, so doom scrolling wasn¡¯t an option. Not that she minded. There was plenty to look at even in this one room: inlaid bookshelves, backlit figurines and paintings that were originals instead of prints. The owners certainly had a taste for authenticity. She¡¯d opted to sit on the floor beside the coffee table in order to stretch her legs. Inviting as the sofas and armchairs were, they were also a touch intimidating. The last thing she needed was to spill something all over the expensive leather upholstery. She wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d ever financially recover if she had to replace so much as a single piece of furniture. When one of the other servers, Elena, peeked into the room, Liv gave a start and stubbed her toe on the leg of the table. ¡°Ow! Shit¨C¡± Elena grimaced and offered an apologetic smile, ¡°Sorry!¡± Massaging her throbbing pinky toe, Liv shook her head and fixed how her mask rested along her cheekbones, ¡°It¡¯s fine. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Have you seen Michelle? She came back here about an hour ago, but I haven¡¯t seen her around since.¡± ¡°Is she out in the garden?¡± She shook her head, ¡°I had some of the other girls check while they were making their rounds, but no one¡¯s been able to find her.¡± Liv pursed her lips, ¡°Want me to go look for her? My break is almost over, anyway.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no rush,¡± she assured, ¡°but if you can keep an eye out for her, that¡¯d be great.¡± ¡°I will. Are you sure she didn¡¯t just run off with one of the guests?¡± There were a few who had caught her own eye now and again, if she were being honest. The difference being, she wasn¡¯t fool enough to pursue anyone or entertain any advances. It was unprofessional. Elena scowled, ¡°If she did, I¡¯ll make sure Eric fires her. We can¡¯t go sleeping around on duty. We¡¯re servers, not escorts.¡± ¡°You and I both. I¡¯ll see if I can find her before I head back out.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the best!¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah. Now shoo. I still have five minutes left before I have to put those damn heels back on,¡± Liv said, waving an idle hand. Elena withdrew with a half chuckle and a shake of her head. Rubbing her temple, Live sighed through her nose. Leave it to Michelle to ruin the evening. It wasn¡¯t exactly the first time she¡¯d snuck away to lock lips with some new lover while on duty. During the last gala they had catered, she¡¯d seen enough of the woman¡¯s skin to last a lifetime. The only reason Liv had agreed to keep the affair a secret in the first place was to preserve the face of the company. That and she¡¯d been too flustered to fully process what she¡¯d walked in on. This time, she wouldn¡¯t be so forgiving. Liv didn¡¯t exactly look forward to catching her canoodling a second time, but she¡¯d do what she had to. With luck, the wayward girl was just in another wing doing her job, but after the last time, Liv wouldn¡¯t hold her breath. She only hoped one bad apple wouldn¡¯t be enough to sour relations with the client beyond repair. Stupid girl, she thought. After returning her dishes to the kitchen, she decided to begin her search down the surrounding halls. She padded, barefoot, down the ornate tile with her heels in her offhand. She didn¡¯t want to announce her presence and with those damned shoes, anyone sneaking about would hear her coming a mile away. Every so often, she stopped to listen, straining for the smallest of sounds whether they be the tell tale moans of a stolen moment or the quick footsteps of a house butler. If she were caught, she supposed there would be no point in lying if confronted: she was looking for an associate. Simple. She might need to add a little white lie or two if prompted too far, but she¡¯d prefer to avoid such a situation altogether. No good ever came from being caught sneaking around in the dark. Halfway down the corridor, she made out a faint scuffling beyond a set of large double doors at the opposite end. One of them had been left ajar, leaving a sliver of amber light amid the otherwise darkened hall. Liv hesitated, debating just how far she was willing to go to catch Michelle in the act. She felt dirty, somehow. Wrong. Not for hunting down the rogue waitress, but for prowling around in a mansion where she didn¡¯t belong. Another shuffle sounded, this time accompanied by a distant, yet familiar giggle. Her mood immediately soured. Of course the woman was up to no good. Steeling herself, Liv crept toward the door. However, when she stepped inside, she paused. With its rich warm woods and ornate display cases, the grand chamber she found herself in had to be the museum she¡¯d heard the guests murmuring about before. The entire space rivaled the ballroom in size, its walls lined with carefully arranged books and cases of all sorts. There were scrolls and tablets and suits of armor, ceramics and weapons and gems. There was even a full fossilized skeleton of some carnivorous dinosaur she¡¯d never seen before. It was incredible. What piqued her curiosity most, though, was the arrangement near the hearth. Twelve pedestals flanked either side of the stone fireplace and the auction dias set before it. The items upon them ranged from pottery to sculptures and precious gems, though some were obscured by the high top tables in front of them. This must be where the auction was to take place. It made sense, for it was the perfect location. One of the guests must have talked Michelle into a sneak-peek before anyone else. The only question was: where were they hiding? The museum was utterly silent beyond the occasional crackle of wood in the low-burning hearth. Hesitantly, Liv ventured further in. She moved as quickly and as quietly as she could, peering around cases and behind the occasional curtain, but there was no one. She¡¯d heard someone in here, she was sure of it. Where on earth could they have gone? The only other door she could see was at the far end nearest the hearth. It was closed, yet there was every possibility that Michelle and her companion had already slipped through. Was she really willing to follow them and risk being caught herself? Just a little further, she decided. She would find the woman and then they would sneak back to the ballroom before anyone was the wiser. She¡¯d send her back to work and worry about scolding her later. All they had to do was finish out the night without incident. A sense of unease rose in her chest as she made her way toward the pedestals and their many artifacts. It''s only anxiety, she told herself. The sooner she accomplished her task, the sooner she could leave. She¡¯d feel better once she did. A soft, violet light twinkled along the periphery of her vision. At first, she didn¡¯t think anything of it, but then a soft womp brought her up short. The accompanying ripple of what she could only describe as energy sent a shiver up her spine. Was it a camera? A hidden laser system of some sort? Had she been caught? She straightened, only to realize the oddity had come from one of the pedestals she¡¯d passed. Upon it, sat a single, large crystal the length of her hand from wrist to fingertip. The elaborate gold stand the double terminated quartz rested upon highlighted the strange, almost runic script inlaid along the outer facets of the stone. Beautiful as it was, it wasn¡¯t the purity of the gem that had caught her eye, but rather the fact it was glowing with an inner light. Womp. Energy pulsed again, momentarily distorting the air. The longer Liv stared, the more she felt herself drawn to the curious stone. Thought disappeared, her reason for coming here forgotten. There was nothing beyond the crystal. The pulsing of its light began to quicken at her approach, beating in time with what some distant part of her realized was her heartbeat. Its golden runes flared to life and when she reached to touch it, her world disappeared. Chapter Two: Truth Among the Pages Chapter Two

Truth Among the Pages

¡°The goddess¡¯ greatest gift to her children was life everlasting, for with her sacrifice, Mordreth¡¯s hunger was finally sated. May her light continue to shine through us all and guide us into the future she has secured.¡± ¨C Argus Phaedlich, High Magister of Her Grace¡¯s Order of Radiance The Angaeli Forest Orenthium, Former Ilythia 219 Years Post Surgence Liv woke to an agony she¡¯d never known. Fire lanced through her right palm and up the length of her arm as if the bone within had turned molten. She gasped, unable to stop the tears nor the scream that followed. She clutched it close to her chest, curling further into the fetal position she found herself in. Was it broken? Burned? One way or another, she had to find out. She forced herself to take a breath through the blinding pain. In through her nose, out through her mouth. In, then out. At first, her lungs refused to obey. They, like the rest of her body, had seized the moment she¡¯d regained consciousness. Her stubborn will bullied them into submission regardless and as her breaths began to level out, so too did the pain. Her senses returned one by one, body relaxing as the minutes crawled by. Eventually, the ache lessened to a manageable throb and she managed to sit up. Where the hell was she? Make-up smeared as she rubbed at her eyes, but she didn¡¯t care. Grass tickled her bare legs and a few feet away, her heels rested within a patch of ferns and tiny blue wildflowers. Birds sang from hidden hollows and somewhere close by, she could hear the steady burble of a stream. She was in a forest, that much was clear, but how she had gotten there was another matter entirely. There were no recognizable roads nearby as far as she could tell, nor was there a trail of any kind. Had she been dumped here? Her insides turned watery at the thought and she quickly glanced herself over. She was still in her silver cocktail dress, which aside from a bit of mud and the errant grass stain, was still intact. No blood, no bruising, no soreness, aside from her arm. She was still in possession of all her internal organs and so far as she could tell, she hadn¡¯t been assaulted. All things considered, things could be considerably worse. Had she been drugged? If so, why? She saw no signs of anyone else having been nearby, but that didn¡¯t mean she was alone or that her abductor wouldn¡¯t return. What had the man from the garden said? The items being sold were of particular interest? Had he meant herself and the other girls? Shit, what if she was in some sort of death game¨C She paused, suddenly remembering the rest of the night in its entirety. The last thing she recalled was reaching for that odd crystal. Everything had gone black after that. Had she triggered some sort of security measure when she¡¯d touched it? She supposed it was possible. That strange light she¡¯d seen could have been a sensor, right? And the ripple of energy could have been one of those lesser known crowd control methods used to make people sick. Maybe she¡¯d had a bad reaction to it? It didn¡¯t explain why she¡¯d been dumped here, but . . . maybe whoever had found her thought she was dead and panicked? If that was the case, how far had they driven to dispose of her? Her arm spasmed and she hissed. The bastards must have tossed her out like yesterday¡¯s garbage. If her arm had been broken, it wasn¡¯t going to make getting out of here any easier. She knew basic first aid and CPR, but there was only so much she could do for a broken bone. She¡¯d just have to improvise and hope for the best. Once she actually inspected the damned thing. In truth, she¡¯d been afraid to look at it for fear of what she might find. She took a deep breath and slowly eased her arm away from her chest in order to inspect it properly. Her breath hitched. In a panic, she tried to scrub what she was seeing from her skin. It wasn¡¯t possible. She was hallucinating. She¡¯d been drugged. It was the only logical explanation she could think of to explain the absolute absurdity of her situation. But nothing happened. The marks were still there on her skin, mocking her. ¡°No,¡± she breathed, trying again to no avail, ¡°No, no, no. Fuck.¡± The same runic script she¡¯d seen upon the stone had been tattooed along the inside of her right arm from palm to elbow in neat, orderly columns. Soft, aureate light rippled along the foreign characters, bringing about a new set of throbbing heat. Her olive skin was raised and pink along the edges of the ink, though the faintest line of black was also present like the skin had been burned. Hesitantly, she tested her fingers, wiggling each one several times to ensure they all still worked. Thankfully, the pain didn¡¯t intensify, so she assessed her wrist, then her elbow and finally, her shoulder. Despite the ache and the presence of the strange markings, everything felt and appeared functional. There was no bruising, no redness and mercifully, no swelling. Wiping the tears from her eyes with her good hand, she glanced over her immediate surroundings. Aside from her shoes and the stupid fox mask that had been knocked from her face, there was nothing. No stone. No tire tracks. Nothing. ¡°Come on, give me something,¡± she muttered under her breath. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. The moment the words escaped her lips, something tugged at her heart. It was faint, like the brush of a cobweb, but distinct. She stiffened. That hadn¡¯t been a heart palpitation, had it? The soft, amber glow emanating from within her chest told her it wasn¡¯t. A matching sphere manifested itself within arm¡¯s reach, appearing as nothing more than a loose collection of swirling light. It was no larger than a basketball and hovered a foot or so from the ground. It grew bright, but quickly began to fade and as it did, it revealed an open book at its center. Golden dust twinkled off the materializing pages and gradually drifted off into nothingness. Liv could only stare in dumbfounded fascination at the leather bound tome hanging in the air before her. This wasn¡¯t real. It couldn¡¯t be, yet the impossibility stared her in the face all the same. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. If this was all some sort of dream, maybe her mind would realize it and wake up. When she opened her eyes, the book was still there. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡± The book patiently floated where it had appeared. She tried looking away, then back again, but nothing changed, so she closed her eyes again. Her mind was playing tricks on her, she told herself. The book wasn¡¯t real. She was dreaming or hallucinating. Hell, for all she knew, she¡¯d hit her head and fallen into a coma. The book didn¡¯t disappear. This time, it gave an almost exasperated flick of one of its open pages. ¡°An imaginary book with an attitude. Great.¡± The edges of the pages ruffled like the feathers of some disgruntled bird and she scowled at it. ¡°When I asked for something, this isn¡¯t exactly what I meant.¡± The book didn¡¯t seem to care. Her lips thinned as she debated whether or not to humor it. Crazy as she felt, she supposed it couldn¡¯t hurt. Maybe it was her subconscious trying to reach out, to offer her a clue. Or maybe it really was some magical book. She reached a careful hand toward it and plucked it from the air as easily as she would have from a shelf. The leather binding was warm and supple beneath her fingers, the pages within thicker and a touch more coarse than what she was used to. They almost reminded her of some old-timey journal. They were blank too, which only served to confuse her. Then, in a neat, flowing script, two words faded into being at the center of the left page: Hello Olivia. The ink almost appeared to be burned into the page. Her first inclination was to chuck the book into the forest, but she held her nerve. It was spooky as shit, but it hadn¡¯t hurt her. Not the way those damned tattoos had. She bit her lip, but decided to play along, ¡°Hi. I, uh . . .¡± How in the hell was she supposed to carry on a conversation with a book? ¡°Can you tell me where I am?¡± The prior words vanished and a new sentence arose, You are in the Angaeli forest of Orenthia. ¡°And where is that, exactly?¡± Orenthia. That wasn¡¯t the least bit helpful. ¡°Is Orenthia a country?¡± Yes. Alright, that was some progress, at least. Not that she had the faintest idea where this mysterious country was. She almost felt like she¡¯d fallen through a hole in reality. You have, in a sense. Liv snorted, ¡°Are you telling me I somehow clipped into the backrooms?¡± No. Her eyes narrowed. ¡°What are you, exactly?¡± A spiritbook. Your spiritbook. ¡°I have no idea what that is.¡± Shall I show you? She hesitated and glanced over her shoulder as if she half expected someone to jump out and find her talking to some dusty old book. ¡°Fine. Show me.¡± The text faded. Then, the open pages began to fill. Illustrations and flowing, flowery script rippled across them as if burned into the parchment by some invisible, artful hand. The entirety of the left page depicted a great tree contained within a sun-like circle. Its branches and roots wove around the halo in intricate, twining patterns that almost reminded Liv of the tree of life. The complexity of it was dizzying to the eye, for the longer she gazed upon it, the more detail arose: a hidden sapling whose roots found nothing but air, a city skyline that was both familiar and foreign, a tear among a tapestry of stars. She blinked before it could suck her in entirely and focused on the text along the right page instead. Olivia Lockhard Age: Twenty-four Origin: Unknown Place of Birth: Unknown Living relatives: Two detected Gemcore: Animite Designation: Type III Order: First Aspect Alignment: None Access to Arcane Spring: None. The settling of your gemcore has granted you access to the cultivation tree. Four selections await your attention. Aside from her name and age, none of what she read made any sense. Gemcore? Arcane spring? Was she supposed to be some sort of witch? Her lips thinned as she read further. Afflictions: Forsaken. In death, life blooms anew, but not for you. ¡°That¡¯s not ominous at all,¡± she muttered. She flipped to the next page and froze. The top of the heading read, Bound Artifacts, but it wasn¡¯t what had caught her attention. It was the illustration. Much like the tree of life, a perfect rendition of the strange crystal was burned into the page, complete with the runic script now marking her arm. Artifact: Spiritshard Alignment: Authority Class: Divine Discovered Abilities: She glanced at the inside of her arm, but then a low rumble drew her attention to the sky. The massive craft gliding above the trees was not a plane, but a blimp. Its silver balloon glinted as it passed overhead, casting her world in momentary shadow. With shaking fingers, Olivia closed the book as the rumble of its engine reverberated through the ground and into her bones. She wasn¡¯t in a coma at all, was she? This was real. Realization swept through her in an icy breeze. The private invitations, the NDAs, the man from the garden¡¯s cryptic words¨C The items being auctioned off at the Braddock estate were not trinkets or people, but dangerous artifacts. And she had stolen one. Chapter Three: Skills and Survivability Chapter Three

Skills and Survivability

¡°The opposition of the elements is not contradictory, but complementary. It is in their contrast that they lend one another strength.¡± ¨C Penour D¡¯egais, Famed playwright of Giaval ~*~ Mind racing, Liv turned her attention back to the odd, magical book, but it was gone. She¡¯d been so distracted by the airship, she hadn¡¯t noticed its weight leave her fingers. A quick survey of the surrounding grass told her she hadn¡¯t dropped the damn thing, so where had it gone? Surely she would have noticed a flash of light if its spontaneous exit was as dramatic as its arrival? ¡°Wait¨C Come back, I wasn¡¯t finished!¡± She called. Amber light flashed and the book thumped unceremoniously into her lap. ¡°Could have been nicer about it,¡± she muttered. The book only ruffled its pages. She chose to ignore its sass as she snatched it up and flipped to the first page. Much like before, it was empty. Lips thinning, she rifled through the tome. Its pages were blank. They were all blank. At over an inch thick, you¡¯d assume she¡¯d be able to read something without having to explicitly ask, but no. ¡°Alright, fine,¡± she sighed, ¡°Is this Earth?¡± A familiar, fiery script burned itself into the page. No. The hair along the back of her neck rose and prickled. ¡°Is there a way for me to go back?¡± Yes. She didn¡¯t dare breathe a sigh of relief, ¡°How?¡± Unknown. Of course the damn book didn¡¯t know. ¡°Do you know someone who does?¡± No, then a second later, Would you like to see your suggested course of action? Liv rubbed at her brow, ¡°Sure. Why not?¡± The writing disappeared and was quickly replaced. You are currently stranded in the Angaeli forest of Orenthia. You have no food, no shelter and no supplies. Remedying the situation is in your best interest. Suggestions: ¡°I¡¯d appreciate a little less snark, book. I¡¯ll use you as kindling, if I have to.¡± This would be unwise. My destruction will only hasten your inevitable end. Well, that certainly wasn¡¯t comforting. It was impossible to tell whether or not the book was bluffing, but she made a mental note to keep it safe in the future. Which should be relatively easy if it popped out of existence every time she closed it. ¡°Fine, show me the tree.¡± The page blanked. Then, a flow chart of sorts began to form. The diamond shape at the center rose first, its lines and edges accented by little, leafing, flowering vines. It read: Cultivation. Two paths stemmed from the top and bottom point in a central through-line leading to similarly accented rectangles reading Governance and Creation respectively. Both led to a category called First Order along their individual path lines and it was there that the differences became apparent. Two paths branched from each corner of the first order governance box: Detect Life to the left and Detect Energy to the right. A central line continued through the center of the main category, but faded before it reached what Liv assumed was the next order. Detect Life branched to a subsequent Detect Decay square and Detect Energy led to Read Energy. Liv pursed her lips. It may have been a few years since she¡¯d had the free time to play games like Skyrim or Dragon Age, but she knew a skill tree when she saw one. She assumed the first order represented the beginner level, if not something similar. The through line likely led to the next rank, which meant the offshoots were skills. Maybe the Braddock Estate had some sort of VR room after all and she¡¯d been strapped to it. If this really was some sort of simulation, it was the best she¡¯d ever seen. She wasn¡¯t even sure technology had even advanced to a point where something like this would be possible. She had to admit, though, the explanation made more sense than some magical, teleporting crystal sending her to who-knew where. Either way, she decided to play along. It wasn¡¯t as if she really had a choice in the matter. One way or another, she was stranded. She glanced down the creation path, noting there were three offshoots: one to the right and left like that of governance with the third bisecting the central line to the next rank. Tap Arcane Spring. Was it a prerequisite of some sort? Encourage Growth on the left and Energy Transduction on the right both seemed like starting points in and of themselves, so she supposed it wasn¡¯t a stretch. Neither one led to an additional skill either. ¡°Can you explain some of these?¡± She asked the book. It scribbled its response along the bottom of the page. You¡¯ll have to be more specific. ¡°Fair enough,¡± she sighed, ¡°What¡¯s the difference between detect energy and read energy? They sound like they might as well be the same thing.¡± Detect energy grants you the ability to sense whether or not an energy field is present. You feel it, you know it''s there, but that¡¯s it. Read energy allows you to distinguish positive from negative. At higher orders, the aspect of the energy may also be determined. Stolen novel; please report. She supposed that made sense. At least, to some degree. The usefulness of the skill seemed like a matter of some debate, but if it was present, it had to serve some sort of purpose, right? Detect life and detect death were both fairly self explanatory, but again, she wasn¡¯t sure how useful they actually were. She was in a forest, of course there was life. She could see it. Did she really need to waste one of these selections on a skill she could compensate for elsewhere? There had to be more to it. Maybe she could detect what sort of life was around her? Like animals or people? She supposed she could chance it, but being smart about all this was likely in her best interest. Encourage growth spoke for itself, however its sibling skills were less forthcoming. The page listing out all her information, questionable and inaccurate as some of it may be, had mentioned an arcane spring status and listed hers as none. Did that mean she lacked a connection? ¡°What¡¯s this center skill here?¡± She asked, tapping the page, ¡°Tap Arcane Spring?¡± Creation, regardless of form, requires energy. The arcane spring is the well from which its raw essence is drawn. Selecting the skill grants you access to this power, but the amount you are able to channel and store in reserve is dependent upon the order of your gemcore. ¡°The higher my order, the more I can channel?¡± Correct. Which meant she wouldn¡¯t be able to do much of anything at her current stage. ¡°What about energy transduction?¡± This skill refers to the ability to convert energy into matter. The beginner creation skills were definitely starting to sound like prerequisites. ¡°Alright, so if arcane spring gives me access to this mystical woo-woo energy, does that mean I also need energy transduction unlocked in order to do anything with it?¡± Or encourage growth, yes. She could work with that, she only wondered what she could actually do with any of this. ¡°Can you show me the next order?¡± She asked. Both halves of the tree expanded to include the next rank and corresponding skills. Third Order. Liv blinked. ¡°Third? Are there no second order skills?¡± No. ¡°Wonderful.¡± The third order of the governance branch led to two new skill categories: Basic Corporeal Manipulation and Basic Energy Manipulation. Corporeal led to the skills Wield Flora and Shape Flora while energy offered Read Aura and Disrupt Energy. It appeared the left half of the overall tree was dedicated to aspects pertaining to life while the right was dedicated to that of energy. Interesting, she thought. Cultivation offered a similar selection, only with manipulation swapped in favor for generation, which made sense given the apparent nature of the branch. Generate Barkskin and Cultivate Microorganism were available under corporeal generation with Arcane Shield and Arcane Strike open on the energy side of things. Liv sat back, reading over the tree as she weighed its options as well as its implications. The governance path suggested an ability to manipulate something that already existed, so while creation gave her the ability to make something, she may not be able to do much with it without a corresponding governance skill. In that case, she¡¯d have to distribute her selections accordingly instead of just picking whatever sounded cool like she sometimes did in the games she used to play. She¡¯d played games to escape and turn off her brain, but this . . .she¡¯d have to handle this differently. ¡°How many orders are there?¡± Twelve. She blew out a breath, ¡°And how do I advance from one to another?¡± By practicing your chosen skills, obviously. ¡°Obviously,¡± she snorted. Through her annoyance, a thought struck her. Her gaze flicked between detect life and cultivate microorganism. Maybe detect life was more useful than she¡¯d initially given it credit for? Microorganisms were, by their very nature, exceptionally small. She wouldn¡¯t be able to see them, but maybe she¡¯d be able to sense or detect them with the skill. If that were the case, maybe she could tell what sort of plants or animals were nearby? She wasn¡¯t sure what her range was, per se, but a skill like that could be handy in the dark or in an exceptionally dense patch of forest. ¡°Does detect life tell me what something is? Is it some sort of sixth sense?¡± Yes. ¡°I¡¯d like that to be my first selection, then,¡± she said. Excellent. The change was more subtle than she¡¯d expected. Instead of spasming or blacking out a second time, she simply felt more. Grasses and shrubs and hidden mosses revealed themselves as secondary extensions of her own body within what she¡¯d guess was roughly a four-foot radius around her. She could tell where each was without necessarily having to look or think about them. They were just . . . there, like an arm or leg or other appendage. You have three selections remaining. She didn¡¯t hesitate, ¡°Detect energy, encourage growth and tap arcane spring.¡± Excellent. All available selections have been made. At first, she wasn¡¯t sure if detect energy had made any difference, but then a nagging, sickly sort of feeling arose from one of the ferns behind her. When she focused on it, her new sense honed in on the singular plant. She twisted to face it, searching the leaves for the source until she spotted the browning frond. While she couldn¡¯t tell what was wrong with it, she could sense the negative energy rising from the affected area. She leaned forward and pinched the leaf from the plant with her free hand. Her little bubble of detection shifted with her, granting her an updated mental map of her surroundings. Her spine tingled and she shivered at the change. Seamless as the integration of the sense was, it was going to take time to get used to. Encourage growth may not have come with any apparent feelings, but arcane spring had. It was distant, but somewhere beyond her, perhaps even beyond the physical world, she felt something. It encompassed everything, yet nothing at all. Her connection to it was no larger than a pinprick, but somehow, that tiny window into the unseen space was enough. Power beaded through it and into what she assumed was the reserve the book had mentioned before. And a particularly small one at that, given what she sensed was no larger than a teacup. Calling her a beginner might be too generous a term, but some magic was better than no magic, right? She only wondered how she compared to the rest of this world. Wherever and whatever this world was. She glanced down at her right arm and the tattoos that had faded from gold to a rusted shade of red. ¡°Bound artifact, huh?¡± Where had it gone after she¡¯d touched it? Was it still in that private museum? Had it been sold? If it was bound to her, presumably it had come here with her, but all she saw were her shoes and mask. This stupid dress didn¡¯t have any pockets and even if it did, there wouldn¡¯t be any hiding a crystal of that size. ¡°Can you show me the artifact page again?¡± She asked. Her spiritbook flipped to a new page, unveiling the illustration as well as what limited information was available. Artifact: Spiritshard Alignment: Authority Class: Divine Discovered Abilities: ¡°Do you know where this mysterious shard is hiding?¡± In your soulspace. Would you like to summon it? She bit her lip. Did she? If she touched it again, maybe it would send her home . . . ¡°Yes.¡± A faint glow arose from the center of her chest before golden dust began to filter out in a flowing ribbon. The crystal took shape in the air before her, hovering, just as her book had. In the light, it appeared like a giant amethyst, gold lettering glinting in stark contrast to the deep purple facets. It was a gem worthy of queens or empresses and some selfish part of her wanted to keep it. With a careful breath, Liv reached out to touch it once more. Warmth radiated through her fingers and up her arm, awakening the script along her skin. The golden light rose anew, but nothing happened. The energy within pulsed in anticipation, but without an application or use, she sensed there was nothing she could do with it. ¡°Take me home,¡± she said, panic rising. Nothing. Her heartbeat began to race with a certain desperation. This damned crystal was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. It had to be the answer. It had to take her home. ¡°Take me back, now!¡± Again, nothing happened. The writing at the bottom of the artifact page drew her attention. Suggestion: Chapter Four: The Pursuit of Civilization Chapter Four

The Pursuit of Civilization

¡°Vented arcane energy is not without its uses, for depending upon the state of its manifestation, it possesses a multitude of applications. Namely, amplification.¡± ¨C Elysia Vosskan, Head of the Department of Innovation at Giaval¡¯s Institute of Arcane Science ~*~ Liv willed both the crystal and the spiritbook from her sight. They dissolved into thin ribbons of shimmering dust before fading entirely. Where they went, she wasn¡¯t entirely sure, but she knew it had something to do with whatever apparent magic now resided in her chest. ¡°No food, no shelter, no supplies,¡± she sighed. She didn¡¯t exactly need a book to tell her she was in trouble. She glanced off in the direction the airship had disappeared. It had been descending at the time, which likely meant there was some form of airstrip nearby, if not a town or city. Surely she¡¯d be able to find someone who could help her? Survive the new world and all that? Steeling her resolve, she rose on shaky knees and braced herself against a nearby tree. The world spun and for a moment, she was afraid she might pass out again. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited until her bearings returned. When they did, she drew a shuddering breath and took a moment to reevaluate her current predicament. Aside from the whole magic business, this new world didn¡¯t appear all that different from earth. The addition of airships, while startling at first, wasn¡¯t an entirely foreign concept. The one she had seen shared a number of similarities with Zeppelins and while they weren¡¯t widely used, they still existed in her world. Maybe they¡¯d found more success here? She supposed she¡¯d find out soon enough. Straightening, she took a step back from the tree and searched the surrounding woods a second time. There were no nearby roads or woodland paths from what she could tell, which meant she¡¯d have to pick her way through the forest on her own. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure what time it was, or how long she had been unconscious, but making the best of the daylight hours was in her best interest. She was cold enough as it was in her stupid cocktail dress and there was no telling how much farther the temperature might drop come sundown. Water would be another issue, but one she could hopefully alleviate by visiting the stream she could hear burbling some distance away. By the sound of it, it flowed somewhere along her planned path anyway, so she wouldn¡¯t have to travel too far out of her way to visit it. Ideally, she should boil the water before drinking it, but she didn¡¯t exactly have a means of doing so. She¡¯d simply have to risk it and hope for the best. Gathering her boot heels, she set off. As she went, she kept her attention on the ground, mindful of any roots or sharp rocks. With her feet as bare as they were, travel proved rather difficult. Her exposed skin was tender and all too sensitive. Her heels would have been more a hindrance than anything else, but she kept them clutched in her good hand all the same. They could prove useful later and she wasn¡¯t keen on discarding any potential tools just yet. She was no survival expert, but she figured it was a good idea to keep any potential resources with her, trivial as they may seem. As she drew closer to the water source, the terrain began to change. The tall, thick ferns and grass she¡¯d waded through abruptly ended, giving way to a short, rocky cliff overlooking a small clearing. Through it, ran a steady creek a few feet wide. Moss blanketed the large, flat boulders flanking either side and here and there, dense patches of reeds rose high above the surrounding foliage. Were she not in her current predicament, she may have taken a moment to enjoy the sight. From her vantage, she surveyed the glade. Still no sign of human intervention of any sort. She considered calling out in hopes that someone might hear her, but some inner voice warned her against doing so. She wasn¡¯t sure who or what might be lurking in these woods. The last thing she needed was some forest predator pouncing on her because she was stupid enough to broadcast her position to anything and everything within her vicinity. For now, she¡¯d keep her wits about her and press on in silence. Tentatively, she walked the length of the cliffside, the dark stone warm beneath her toes. The rock formation didn¡¯t appear particularly high, but it was far too steep to climb down without the proper training or equipment. Jumping was out of the question. At best, she¡¯d break an ankle. At worst, she¡¯d stumble and break her back, if not her neck. Neither of those possibilities were particularly appealing, so she sought a safer path instead, despite her aching feet. Eventually, she reached the far edge of the cliff where the stone gave way to sediment and grass. The incline was still steep, but far more manageable. What she assumed was a game path wound its way down the slope, its well-worn track offering a more steady means of travel. Here and there, she could make out a few prints along the damp soil. Deer, mostly, and maybe a few belonging to rabbits, though she wasn¡¯t a tracking expert by any means. She¡¯d hoped to spy a shoe print or tread, but had no such luck. In this remote place, she was alone. Her throat grew tight and it was an effort to suppress the slow panic rising in her chest. What if she¡¯d been wrong? What if civilization was still miles away and she¡¯d miscalculated? What if she never made it? This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing and on the present. She was still alive and healthy. Following the airship¡¯s path was her best option. One way or another, she would make it out of this, she was certain. Or so she tried to tell herself as she finally knelt beside the stream. She dipped her hands into the cool water and grit her teeth against the burning along her marked skin. She could have sworn it hissed when it touched the water, a few threads of steam rising to curl from the surface. Liv chose to ignore it, told herself it was just her imagination, even if she knew better. Cupping her hands, she drank until the scratchiness of her throat subsided, then submerged her right arm as best she could. The water hissed and popped as if she were quenching a blade and while she gasped in alarm, she didn¡¯t pull back. Instead, she angled her face away and held her arm steady until the simmering and steaming subsided. The wash of soothing cold that followed was enough to make her groan in relief. She leant further over the water and closed her eyes, content to let her arm recover as she listened to the singing of the birds. However, as the minutes crept by, the skin around the marks seemed to grow tight and her arm grew heavy. Straightening where she knelt, she withdrew from the stream, only to find the entirety of her tattooed skin encrusted by what appeared to be crystalline growths. She stared, wide-eyed. ¡°Okay, what the actual fuck,¡± she breathed. The inside of her arm looked like it had been attacked by the steroid version of one of those crystal growth kits from National Geographic. Only, they appeared to have grown from the glyphs themselves. Dense clusters stemmed from the now rusty-red marks, their golden, quartz-like pillars near as long as her fingers. Hesitantly, she touched one. It tugged at her skin like a dried scab and peeled away from the foreign symbol it had grown from. A shiver ran down her spine at the odd sensation and she shuddered. The action knocked the loose cluster free and it fell harmlessly into the moss at her knees. Aside from the slight rise of the glyph, the skin was smooth and unblemished. She ran her thumb over it a number of times, testing for any lingering pain or irritation, but there was none. There was no heat, no throb, no hint of anything having ever been wrong. The glyphs appeared as nothing more than well-healed tattoos. Well, aside from the crystals sprouting from the rest of them. Liv carefully plucked them off one by one, staring all the while in mortified fascination. She had crystals, actual crystals growing out of her arm. Honestly, this entire morning was beginning to feel like one big acid trip. Not that Liv had ever partaken in such things, but she¡¯d heard her fair share of stories. What were the odds that she really had been drugged? ¡°Probably less than I¡¯d like,¡± she muttered. Once she¡¯d removed the last of the clusters, she turned it over to inspect the bottom edge where it had originated from her arm. There were no bits of skin or flesh, but it did hold the rough shape of the glyph it had sprung from. They all did, she discovered. She supposed it wasn¡¯t too surprising, but at this point, she wasn¡¯t really sure what to make of any of this. If she were one of those crystal girlies, she¡¯d probably be having a field day. She arranged the two dozen or so clusters in the moss before her, wondering if they might be worth something. They were certainly pretty enough despite their unconventional creation. Tiny metallic streaks shimmered amid the many pillars¡¯ aureate facets, creating an almost kaleidoscope-like effect she couldn¡¯t help but admire. It was a shame she couldn¡¯t sell them on Etsy. She would have kept one for herself, of course, but the rest? Those could make her a pretty penny. She tilted her head, considering. Who was to say she couldn¡¯t do the same here? A collection of presumably magic crystals had to be worth something, right? At the very least, she might be able to trade them for more practical goods. Provided she actually found some sort of city, she doubted anyone would simply give her clothes and supplies. Sure, she might be able to steal some, but she wasn¡¯t exactly keen on finding herself on the wrong side of whatever laws this world had. Taking things that didn¡¯t belong to you was generally frowned upon wherever you went, so she couldn¡¯t imagine it was any different here. Fortunately, bartering was equally universal. She had no idea how much these might be worth and thus, would probably get taken advantage of to some extent, but at this point, she didn¡¯t entirely care. Some money was better than none at all. The book had been right¨C she needed supplies. Her current outfit wasn¡¯t doing her any favors in any respect, so she¡¯d take what she could get. The only real question was how she planned on transporting them. . . ¡°Hey, book, are you still lurking around somewhere?¡± She asked. Of course, she already knew the answer. The spiritbook manifested beside her crystal stash, flipped to an open page and wrote, For better or worse, I am always with you. ¡°Perfect. Now, is there a way for me to store these in the soulspace you mentioned earlier?¡± Yes, but they will not all fit. The space is not infinite. She puckered her lips, ¡°Will most of them fit?¡± Carrying a few wasn¡¯t the end of the world. Most? Yes. Most. She could work with that. Whatever was left could be shoved into the shafts of her boot heels. She didn¡¯t want to openly advertise them, even if she wasn¡¯t certain of their value. For all she knew, doing so would be no different from flaunting around too much cash. Being robbed was the last thing she needed. ¡°I can work with that. Stash what you can and I¡¯ll see what I can do,¡± she said. All but three of the fist-sized clusters dissolved into a familiar array of swirling particulates. The space in the center of her chest glowed, then faded as the last of the dust disappeared. She rubbed at her sternum, trying to reconcile the slight pressure that had emerged. In a way, the sensation was not all that different from how her stomach felt after she¡¯d eaten too much. Apparently there was a limit to how much she could carry there, after all. Good to know. She divided the other three into the short shafts of her boots. All things considered, they worked well as improvised carriers. Her feet weren¡¯t exactly in the best of shape, but in the more mountainous terrain, her heels would only be more of a liability. She¡¯d take aching feet over snapped ankles any day. She stuck them into the water too, sighing as she relished the temporary alleviation of pain. Had her dress been made of a more friendly material, she might have been tempted to tear a few strips to bind her feet. Unfortunately, the sequin-sewn fabric was more trouble than it was worth. There wasn¡¯t enough to spare either. It¡¯s stupid skirt barely made it to mid-thigh. After a quick assessment of her scratched up feet, she took another quick drink from the stream and reached for her boots. Her fingers fell short as some inner voice rose in warning. Goosebumps danced along her skin and the hair along the back of her neck pricked as it rose to stand on end. She drew in a careful breath, realizing the whole of the forest had gone silent. She didn¡¯t dare move, not when she saw the distorted reflection of the cloaked figure in the stream. Chapter Five: Strangers in the Woods Chapter Five

Strangers in the Woods

¡°Unfortunately, madness is not uncommon among those who have undergone multiple resurgences. While the body is healed, the mind is rarely so lucky. Strangers, particularly those who appear out of sorts, should be approached with caution.¡± ¨C Argus Phaedlich, High Magister of Her Grace¡¯s Order of Radiance ~*~ Liv slowly withdrew her hand from her boots and rose both arms in placation. Blood pounded in her ears as her heart raced and despite her best efforts, her fingers trembled. Fear kept her eyes glued to the figure¡¯s reflection. They held a bow of some sort, from what she could tell, and while it was held idly toward the ground, that could change in the blink of an eye. ¡°If I¡¯m trespassing, I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, ¡°I¡¯m lost and this stream was the only source of water I could find.¡± The stranger¡¯s deep voice made her flinch, ¡°Who are you?¡± ¡°Liv¨C Olivia Lockhard.¡± ¡°Let me see your eyes.¡± ¡°My eyes?¡± She asked, trying and failing to place the man¡¯s hint of an accent. ¡°Now.¡± ¡°Alright, alright,¡± she said, shuddering as she lifted her face. The man had an arrow notched to the string of his bow, fingers poised and ready, should she make the wrong move. She tried to swallow past the dryness in her throat and meet his eyes. They were difficult to make out beneath the hood he wore, but she felt the weight of them all the same. Their scrutiny was enough to chase goosebumps along her skin. ¡°I¡¯m not high, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re looking for,¡± she said. ¡°High? What are you talking about?¡± ¡°On drugs,¡± she clarified, ¡°Why else would you be looking at my eyes?¡± ¡°For signs of the Rot,¡± he said, lips pressing thin. ¡°Right . . . the Rot . . .¡± Would her book know what that was? He looked her up and down several times, his apparent, thinly-veiled confusion only mounting. ¡°You haven¡¯t a clue what I¡¯m talking about, do you?¡± She gave him a shaky smile, ¡°Not in the slightest.¡± He sighed, shoulder¡¯s relaxing as he returned his arrow to the quiver at his hip. ¡°So what exactly are you doing out here?¡± He asked. ¡°Trying to find my way out. I saw an airship fly by overhead not that long ago and figured following it was my best bet,¡± she said, looking him over, ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°Hunting. I haven¡¯t seen a thing all morning. Now, I know why.¡± ¡°Hey, don¡¯t blame me. Coming here was hardly my idea.¡± ¡°That so? And whose was it?¡± Liv hesitated, ¡°That¡¯s . . . a bit of a complicated answer.¡± The man eyed her right arm, ¡°I can imagine it is.¡± She instinctively lowered it and clutched it close to her chest as if hiding the stupid marks would somehow make a difference. He¡¯d already seen them. Even so, the way he eyed them led her to believe he might know something about them. Maybe he could help her? She was hesitant to explore the possibility. Desperate as she was for answers, she had no intention of placing her blind faith into the first person she met. On a hunch, though, she tried reaching out with her ability to read energy. Intent could be seen as both positive and negative, so maybe she could apply the skill here? Hopefully, he couldn¡¯t sense her use of it. She¡¯d rather not have to explain herself, but considering the circumstances, could he really fault her for being careful? It was far harder to sense the energy he gave off when compared to the plant life, but she was certain she felt something. It was more an inkling, a thin sort of aura. Maybe even a vibe, if she had to put words to it. From what she could tell, it was non threatening and when coupled with his slight apprehension and body language, it was clear enough he was just as leery of her as she was of him. Which was fair. They were strangers after all and randomly stumbling across other people where none should be was suspect anywhere. ¡°Is there a town nearby?¡± She asked. He nodded and gestured upstream, ¡°Ralencia is about eleven miles east of here.¡± Her voice cracked, ¡°Eleven?¡± A hike of that distance through this sort of terrain would take hours under the best of conditions. Without any supplies or proper footwear to speak of, she¡¯d never make it by nightfall. She was screwed. ¡°How did you end up here?¡± He asked. Liv gave a soft snort, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you.¡± What little she could make out of his lips edged into the ghost of a smirk. ¡°I¡¯ve heard my fair share of outlandish stories.¡± She raised an eyebrow. After some apparent deliberation, he sighed and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, ¡°My home isn¡¯t far from here. If you¡¯d like, I could take you in for the night, even give you some proper clothes and a good meal. You could tell me your story over some venison stew?¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. It was a tempting offer, even if she hadn¡¯t the faintest idea what venison was. ¡°No funny business?¡± She asked and when he blinked, she added, ¡°Despite my current dress, I¡¯m not for hire, if you catch my meaning.¡± She could have sworn she saw his cheeks darken. ¡°I assure you, I¡¯ve made no such assumptions.¡± Her eyes narrowed, ¡°Good.¡± Stepping upon one of the larger stones poking out from the stream, he slung his bow over a broad shoulder and offered her his hand. ¡°My name¡¯s Kaedric,¡± he said. After a moment of consideration, she grabbed her boot heels and allowed him to pull her to her feet. ¡°It¡¯s good to meet you,¡± she said, wobbling a moment. Kaedric placed a steadying hand upon her shoulder, patient as he helped her across to the opposite bank. ¡°I wish it were under better circumstances, but not every meeting can be perfect,¡± he said. ¡°Apparently not,¡± she agreed, ¡°Thank you. I guess I¡¯m a bit more shaken up than I thought.¡± ¡°Exposure is a nasty thing even in these woods,¡± he said. He glanced toward the treeline at his back, placed two gloved fingers to his lips and whistled. Liv gave a start, half expecting to be ambushed by yet more men, but quickly relaxed when she spied a horse trotting toward them. The grey creature gave a soft knicker in reply and tossed its head. ¡°Yes, yes,¡± Kaedric drawled, ¡°We can go home now, there¡¯s no need to yell at me.¡± The horse gave a snort. Kaedric gave it a fond pat on the neck before fitting his bow into what appeared to be a specially made leather holster along the side of the saddle. He clipped his quiver to it next, then pulled back his hood. A mop of dirty-blond curls sprung free and he briefly ruffled them with a hand as he turned to her. He wasn¡¯t some pasty rake, but rather a man shaped by the outdoors and tanned from long hours spent in the sun. He couldn¡¯t have been much older than she was, either. In his late twenties, maybe? However, there was a certain edge to his brown eyes that hinted at an older soul. She wouldn¡¯t call it world wary, but maybe something like it? ¡°Here,¡± he said, removing his cloak, ¡°This should help ward off the chill in the meantime. May I?¡± At first, she wasn¡¯t exactly sure what he was asking. ¡°What? Oh¨C you may. Sorry,¡± she said, stepping closer in order to allow him to drape his cloak over her shoulders. The weight of the fabric was heavier than she¡¯d expected, but she wasn¡¯t about to complain about the warmth. She hadn¡¯t realized how numb her skin had grown to the slight chill in the air. It left her prickly and suddenly cold, so she drew the cloak in close. ¡°Do you know how to ride?¡± He asked. ¡°Not really,¡± she grimaced. He humphed. ¡°Fortunately for you, all you really need to do is sit there while I lead, in this instance.¡± Liv spared the saddle and horse and uncertain glance, ¡°What if he doesn¡¯t want me up there?¡± ¡°Kelsa might snort and stomp her foot, but I promise she¡¯s all steam,¡± he said. She pursed her lips, uncertain if she could even reach the damn foot-thingy anyway. The more she studied the rig, the more she realized how far off the ground the saddle was. This Kelsa of his was ridiculously tall. ¡°I think I¡¯d rather¨C¡± She gave a particularly indignant squawk as she was suddenly lifted and set upon the horse¡¯s back. Liv stiffened, bracing for some other manner of treachery from Kaedric or his beast. Kelsa shifted her weight and flicked her ears around, but that was all. ¡°Get me down,¡± she said, scarcely able to breathe. ¡°Come now, you¡¯re already up there. It can¡¯t be that bad?¡± Liv hadn¡¯t realized her cheeks had grown hot. ¡°Not yet, but who''s to say something won¡¯t happen when it starts moving?¡± ¡°She won¡¯t toss you, I promise,¡± he said, gathering the reins in one hand, ¡°If she does, you can curse me later. How¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Won¡¯t be much of a curse if my neck is broken,¡± she muttered, fixing the way the cloak rested around her legs. Kaedric gave a light chuckle, ¡°You¡¯ll be fine. Hold to the front of the saddle, if it makes you feel better.¡± She did so, knuckles turning white when he and the horse stepped off. Liv had seen people ride horses before and knew the general concept, but she¡¯d never been on anything more exciting than a bicycle herself. Looking back, the actors made it look far easier than it actually was. Was she supposed to wobble around this much? They weren¡¯t even moving all that fast . . . ¡°Am I doing it right?¡± She asked. He spared a glance over his shoulder, ¡°You¡¯re doing well enough. Try to straighten your back, though. You¡¯ll be more comfortable.¡± Liv did as instructed and felt some of the awkward tension leave her shoulders and upper back. Well, that certainly helped with the wobbling. She¡¯d have to keep that in mind. They rode in silence for a time before she asked, ¡°The Rot you were asking about before, how did you know I didn¡¯t have it?¡± ¡°We wouldn¡¯t be having this conversation if you did.¡± ¡°How so? Is it some sort of disease?¡± He sighed softly through his nose, ¡°I suppose in a manner of speaking, it is, but according to the Magisterium, it''s of arcane origin. It rots your gemcore from the inside out.¡± She couldn¡¯t say she was particularly thrilled by the news of some magical disease, but she nodded and filed the information away. ¡°And you can see it in the eyes?¡± ¡°There¡¯s this black goo that oozes from them. It blackens the veins around the eyes too. It¡¯s hard to miss. Those who are afflicted are usually no more than beasts, depending on the stage of infection.¡± ¡°Well, I can safely say I haven¡¯t seen anything like it,¡± she said. ¡°Count yourself lucky. Not everyone is so fortunate.¡± She frowned at the subtle shift in his tone of voice. Had she struck a chord? She hadn¡¯t meant to. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Don¡¯t be. It¡¯s hardly your fault,¡± he said. ¡°Is the Rot common around here?¡± She assumed it had to be. ¡°Moreso in the west, but it¡¯s been creeping closer as of late. I¡¯d be wary of any strangers you find wandering around.¡± ¡°I see you¡¯re fond of taking your own advice.¡± Kaedric gave a sore chuckle, ¡°I did my diligence before offering you my hand. If you were infected, I¡¯d know. And like I said, we wouldn¡¯t be having this conversation.¡± She couldn¡¯t help but ask, ¡°Why take me in at all?¡± ¡°Aside from it being common decency? I don¡¯t plan on giving the Rot another vessel.¡± ¡°Fair enough. I appreciate it, though. I¡¯m not used to people going out of their way to help someone they barely know. Even if they did, I can¡¯t imagine anyone offering up their own home.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound like you come from a very welcoming place,¡± he said. ¡°It has its ups and downs. No more than yours, I¡¯d imagine.¡± He shrugged a shoulder, ¡°Every place has its quirks. You just have to decide which ones you¡¯re willing to live with.¡± Curiosity got the better of her and she asked, ¡°You said this city was more than ten miles away, right? Does that mean you live on the outskirts?¡± ¡°You could call it that. There are a few farms nearby, so I¡¯m not entirely isolated, but I like the quiet. No one really bothers me out here,¡± Kaedric said. ¡°Do you live alone, then?¡± ¡°Not if you include Kelsa.¡± She rolled her eyes, ¡°A horse isn¡¯t exactly a roommate.¡± ¡°Roommate?¡± He asked. ¡°Someone you live with. You know, like another person?¡± ¡°Sounds awful,¡± he huffed. ¡°Says the one taking a stranger home.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a difference. You¡¯re a guest. As soon as you get on my nerves, I can just throw you out. No need to suck it up and play nice.¡± Liv¡¯s brow rose, ¡°Toss me out? Is that what you¡¯re planning on doing?¡± ¡°Insult Kelsa and I may have to,¡± he hummed. He was joking, right? Interlude I: To Forsake One is to Gain the Other Interlude I

To Forsake One is to Gain the Other

¡°The regression of one¡¯s path is not a punishment, but an opportunity to learn and grow beyond our previous limitations.¡± ¨C Argus Phaedlich, High Magister of Her Grace¡¯s Order of Radiance The Braddock Estate San Francisco, Earth 10:34pm Local Time Alasdair grit his teeth as the spiritshard claimed him for the seventh time since his birth. He had been close, so fucking close to obtaining its twin. It had taken him sixty-four years to discover what had become of the other shard, thirty-seven to find a reliable way to hop between worlds and a final three to locate it. All that planning, all that work, all for nothing at all. He should have claimed it while he had the chance, but instead he¡¯d played nice, yielded to the politics the Magisterium deemed not only important, but necessary. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. He dug his nails into his arm as the artifact¡¯s brand carved itself into his flesh, left hand straining against the burn. The process never grew any easier, nor did the pain ever lessen. He¡¯d blacked out during the first few occasions, the agony having proven too much for even his body to handle. But not this time. This time he would control it, wield it, even as it threatened to tear him apart and drag him back into an all too familiar darkness. The chloridic scent of raw arcane energy stung his nose as the shard¡¯s golden light flared, melding with his soul and chasing shadows across the walls of his guestroom. Its excess energy turned his bones molten, demanding he vent it, release it. He hissed through his teeth as the will of his governance warred with the aspect of cultivation that so vehemently opposed the one he¡¯d been born to. It fought and thrashed, but he bent it to his will all the same. His nostrils flared as he drew in a measured breath and slowly forced his body straight. His hand balled into a fist as his hold upon the wild energy tightened, skin shimmering and distorting as the light bent around it. There was a faint after-image as he lifted it before his face, then, he cast his arm wide, directing all that power into a singular cut. Hot, white light blazed and the fabric of the world tore open. All at once, the agony of his arm vanished. His brand grew cool, its glyphs dull, red and dormant. With a satisfied sigh, Alasdair slid his marked hand back into his long, black gloves and turned his attention to the doorway he¡¯d forced open. The fabric of reality undulated with an almost oily sheen along either side of the tear, the light within bright as it was warm. His world lay beyond it and with luck, so did this interloper. He may not know where they had emerged, but that sort of energy always left its mark. All he had to do was locate the disturbance on the other side. His temper cooled, steeling himself as well as his purpose. One way or another, he would find that shard. He simply had to be patient. Trivial as this world was when compared to his own, it offered certain technologies his had yet to fully master. Their motion cameras, in particular, had afforded him a glimpse of his little thief. He¡¯d always relished a good hunt and it seemed in this instance, his quarry was a fox. Chapter Six: Creature Comforts Chapter Six

Creature Comforts

¡°Sometimes, all it takes is a good meal and a warm bed to soothe the troubles of the mind.¡± ¨C Unknown patron at the Wealthfire Inn ~*~ The Angaeli River Valley Orenthia 4:42pm Local Time Kaedric¡¯s home was not the hovel Liv had admittedly expected, but rather, a cabin. It rested within a valley flanked by tall mountains and rolling foothills carpeted by the same forest she¡¯d been lost in. A river bisected the grassy lowlands and further away, she could make out the farms he had mentioned before. Animals grazed along the open fields, though they were too far away for her to tell what they were with any certainty. Cows, maybe? Sheep? Those were farm animals, right? Back on earth, a home in a place like this was the stuff of dreams and a part of her envied the man for it. A cabin like his would have cost an arm and a leg, if not a firstborn too. What had he paid for it? Had he built it? Or had it been inherited? She supposed she was going down an unnecessary rabbit hole, but she couldn¡¯t help it. Sights like these made her hate her shitty little apartment in the city more than she already did. Sure, it was nice, but she couldn¡¯t say it was worth fifteen hundred a month. She¡¯d hoped the housing market might come down eventually, but who was she kidding? She¡¯d probably be in her late fifties before anything ever became affordable. Maybe she should set her sights here instead . . . ¡°Are you all right?¡± Kaedric asked. ¡°Hmm? Oh, yeah¨C I¡¯m fine. Why do you ask?¡± She¡¯d been staring off into space, hadn¡¯t she? ¡°You went quiet all of a sudden.¡± ¡°Sorry, I was just admiring the view.¡± ¡°She may not be much, but she¡¯s home,¡± he said fondly. ¡°Are you kidding me? Where I come from, people would be throwing their life savings at you for a chance to live here.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen shacks sell for four-hundred thousand.¡± He spluttered, ¡°Four-hundred thousand? Four-hundred thousand what, gold?¡± ¡°That¡¯s on the cheap side,¡± she said. He brought Kelsa to an abrupt halt and Liv grunted. ¡°Where exactly did you come from?¡± He asked. ¡°E¨C,¡± she stopped herself, ¡°No place you¡¯ve ever heard of, I¡¯m sure.¡± Kaedric looked her over as if seeing her for the first time. ¡°Are you from across the sea, then?¡± She pursed her lips, ¡°Not exactly, but my home is farther away than I¡¯d like.¡± ¡°Are you some sort of noble?¡± ¡°Pssh. Me? Noble? You¡¯re hilarious.¡± He tilted his head, ¡°I assumed you¡¯d have to be, to afford such expensive living spaces.¡± ¡°I wish. Buying one for myself isn¡¯t likely to happen anytime soon.¡± If ever, if she couldn¡¯t find some way to get back home. Shit, what would happen to her apartment in her absence? Her houseplants? She needed to find a way home and soon. She wasn¡¯t about to let all those beautiful begonias of hers die without a fight. ¡°I can¡¯t say I¡¯d ever like to visit wherever it is you¡¯re from. Sounds like I¡¯d hardly be able to afford it,¡± he said, continuing on once more. ¡°You¡¯re not missing much,¡± she admitted. His cabin was situated at the opposite end of the valley with its back to the next treeline. The path they took from the forest eventually joined with a cobblestone road. She hadn¡¯t expected something so orderly, considering more rural areas were lucky if they were ever paved in certain parts of the U.S. There were no potholes or dips, the stones used having been ground to a smooth surface upon their placement, by the look of it. A stone bridge led over the steady waters of the river, from which a man was fishing. Kaedric offered a wave in silent greeting which prompted Liv to at least offer a polite smile of her own. The man tipped his hat, but eyed the two in some apparent interest. Was that an air of surprise she detected too? Was the man a friend? An acquaintance? A nosey neighbor? If it were either of the former, surely Kaedric would have offered more than a simple wave? Her internal speculation was interrupted by a notable increase in Kelsa¡¯s pace once they reached the other side of the river. With the cabin¡¯s barn in sight, it wasn¡¯t hard to guess what had garnered her enthusiasm. Her easy walk had turned into a jig that left Liv feeling like a buoy on rough water. She wasn¡¯t even sure she could feel her toes anymore. Her legs were little more than lead weights. She nearly fell flat on her face once they¡¯d arrived and Kaedric offered a hand down from the saddle. Her poor thighs had turned to jelly while her knees had seemingly fused together from being stuck in the same position for so long. She wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d ever felt so stiff. ¡°I¡¯m never doing that again,¡± she muttered, trying and failing to stand straight. Kaedric winced a smile, ¡°You could always ask to accompany one of the farmers. They make runs to the city every few days to deliver goods. Aside from their wagons, a horse would be the only other means of travel, if you wish to make it to Ralencia in a timely fashion. I¡¯m afraid there isn¡¯t a train station nearby.¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! This world had trains? Rail systems? The more Liv thought about it, the more it made sense, she supposed. There were airships, after all, so it wasn¡¯t entirely surprising. It seemed the world she had found herself in was a far cry from the technological wastelands of most pseudo-medieval fantasies. She chewed the inside of her lip, fingers tightening where they held her booted heels. ¡°You don¡¯t have to make a decision now,¡± Kaedric said, noting her look, ¡°Give me a moment to tether Kelsa and I¡¯ll show you inside. We need to take a look at those feet of yours.¡± Liv looked to her toes and frowned when he led Kelsa away. There was dried blood along one of her arches. Mud and bits of grass spattered her skin up to her ankles and even smeared her knees and calves in places. What she needed was a good bath and proper clothes. And probably a bandaid or two. Maybe even a glass of wine? Snorting at herself, she shook her head and did her best to ignore the stinging ache in her feet as she waited. Alcohol was the last thing she needed, even if a moscato sounded nice right about now. She¡¯d be satisfied enough with water she didn¡¯t have to slurp up from a questionable source. ¡°I¡¯m afraid all I have are men¡¯s clothes,¡± Kaedric said as he trudged back up from the barn, ¡°But they¡¯re clean, I assure you. You may use the washroom as well.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take just about anything right now,¡± she said, tentatively stepping after him. Her feet were less apt to protest while walking through the lush grass, but the paving stones were another matter. They scuffed her feet as she tried to keep up with Kaedric. His long strides ate up the ground, requiring one step for every two or three of hers. It was no wonder he¡¯d been able to keep up with his titan of a horse. He offered a hand to help her up the short stairs to his deck when he noticed her lagging behind. She took it with a small smile in thanks. As far as strangers went, she could have done far worse. The inside of his home was as orderly as the exterior, clean, while also minimalistic. The rustic furniture was made from wood, the cushions of chairs and the sole couch made from upholstered leather. There were fur blankets and rugs and even a few select houseplants. It was quaint, cozy and perfectly livable. The energy she sensed was welcoming too, which helped ease her mind. ¡°I¡¯m not used to hosting guests,¡± Kaedric admitted, removing his boots at the door and setting them aside. ¡°I¡¯m more a stray than an actual guest,¡± Liv said, feeling rather guilty over the fact she would be tracking blood and who knew what else across his lovely tile floors. They were a curious choice for a cabin, but no less appealing to the eye. ¡°A guest is a guest,¡± he said with a shake of his head, ¡°Here, the washroom is this way.¡± He led her past the stairway and open kitchen to a room that was not all that different from what she was used to back on earth. Everything was a touch more vintage, but clearly identifiable. There was a sink, a toilet and even a shower spout arching from a stonework bathtub. ¡°I can¡¯t say I was expecting this,¡± she said, taking it all in. ¡°I may be remote, but I do have running water,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ll hear no complaints from me.¡± ¡°Good. Now, there¡¯s an extra towel or two in the cabinet here as well as a few soaps. They¡¯re nothing fancy, but they should do the trick.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± she said. He nodded, ¡°Take all the time you need. I need to brush Kelsa down for the night, but it shouldn¡¯t take me long. I¡¯ll start on the stew and then the two of us can see to sorting out this predicament of yours.¡± ¡°Food sounds nice,¡± she said. ¡°I best get to it then,¡± he said, stepping through the door and making to close it behind him, ¡°Call me if you need anything?¡± ¡°I will.¡± When the door clicked shut, she waited a moment before flipping the lock. She let her heels drop to the floor and braced her arms against the small sink counter. Everything ached. She¡¯d been in this world for less than half a day and she was already completely and utterly exhausted. It hadn¡¯t exactly been uneventful, though. She supposed a barefoot hike through mountainous terrain followed by an impromptu horseback ride would likely take a toll on just about anyone. Her reflection had certainly seen better days. Her green eyes were bloodshot, braided black hair a mess of small snarls and stray ends. Hell, even her complexion was more pale than it ought to be. The usual warm, olive tones were patchy and flush. ¡°Glad to see I look like shit,¡± she muttered. Well, it was time to change that. Liv attacked her hair first, undoing the ties and pins and raking it through with her fingers until a majority of the knots were gone and dealt with. She fluffed out the rogue curls, then pulled them over one shoulder. Without a proper brush, she¡¯d have to braid it later in order to keep it orderly and out of her face. A simple braid, she decided, not the elaborate monstrosity of a plait she¡¯d had for the ball. Anything that required more than a single hair tie to hold was too much, in her opinion. Sighing, she saw to the rest of her filthy self. The silver sequin nightmare of a dress had plastered itself to her skin. It chafed along her back and shoulders and had left aggravated patches of red under her arms along her ribs. She grimaced as she peeled the garment from her skin and would have cast it into the trash, had one been present. Truth be told, she had half a mind to burn it if only for the satisfaction of it. She treated Kaedric¡¯s cloak with far more reverence than she had her dress, having carefully folded it and set it upon the counter for safe keeping. The heavy fabric was clearly designed to take a beating and withstand the elements, but leaving it on the floor had felt wrong. Disrespectful. It had been offered to her in good faith, after all, so she would take every care until she returned it to its owner. She eyed her tattooed arm a moment, wondering if she could expect another spontaneous crystal manifestation. Clearly, the water had been the catalyst the first time around, but that had been while the marks themselves were active and hot. Since she¡¯d plucked those clusters from her arm, everything had felt normal, so maybe it had been a one off occasion? Airing on the side of caution, she placed her arm in the sink and allowed the water to flow over the marked area for several minutes. She eyed the glyphs, but thankfully, nothing came of the exposure. A relief, at least. Figuring out how the bathtub and plumbing worked had been rather easy with the only real difference being the method of plugging the drain in order to retain the water. A detached knob had to be screwed into place, rather than the stopper mechanism being attached to the faucet. Once she figured that out, the rest had been a welcome breeze. The tub itself was more a pool than anything. It was several feet wide, long enough to accommodate a grown man laid out on his back and deep enough to wholly submerge oneself into with space to spare. Waiting for it to fill may have been maddening, but it had been well worth it. Olivia eased herself into the steaming water with a soft groan. Her feet stung, but she didn¡¯t care. The heat soothed sore, strained muscles and warded off the last of her lingering chill. If she could have remained there for the rest of the night, she would have. However, she only allowed herself a few minutes of blissful respite before she saw to scrubbing her skin with the sage-scented soap she¡¯d swiped from the cabinet. Kaedric had claimed it was nothing special, yet it smelled better than half the shampoos and soaps she¡¯d find at the grocery store. There was even a hint of rose incorporated into the scent to give it a slight, but pleasant floral edge. A curious choice for a man, she thought, but an endearing one. From what she could tell, he kept a neat and orderly house. Everything had a place, a purpose, a method of organization. The towels she¡¯d found in the cabinet had been meticulously folded with the soaps kept and stacked in small, wooden boxes beside them. There weren¡¯t many of either item, which wasn¡¯t surprising considering he lived here alone, but it spoke to his appreciation for order. She¡¯d have to make a conscious effort to put everything back the way she¡¯d found it when she was finished. There hadn¡¯t been medical supplies of any kind in the washroom, nor were there any clothes beyond her soiled ones, so she¡¯d been forced to rely on her towel. Fortunately, the one she¡¯d selected had been more than enough to cover her and left her no less bare than that stupid dress she¡¯d arrived in. Though she¡¯d secured it tightly at her chest, she still held it in place with one hand as she peeked out from the washroom. She found Kaedric in the kitchen with his back to her, seemingly cutting vegetables while a large, suspended pot boiled in the lit hearth across the room. The smell of herbs and seared meat was enough to make her mouth water and her stomach growled its anticipation. Once she was actually dressed, she¡¯d see to helping, if he allowed it. ¡°I¡¯ve left clothes on the table there,¡± Kaedric said, respectfully keeping his back to her. She glanced toward the small dining space with a flush, ¡°Oh, thank you.¡± Chapter Seven: Stonesense Chapter Seven

Stonesense

¡°There is a common misconception that Type Ones are the only division capable of discerning the subtle cues of the mind and body, but I assure you there are those among the Type Twos who are just as capable.¡± ¨C Elysia Vosskan, Head of the Department of Innovation at Giaval¡¯s Institute of Arcane Science ~*~ To her surprise, the clothes she¡¯d been given were not Kaedric¡¯s. Instead, she found a blouse, a corset and a pair of black pants that were clearly meant for women. Had they been left behind by a sister or an old flame? Considering he lived here alone, there had to be some sort of story behind them. If she ever worked up the courage, she might ask her host about it later, but for now, she had other matters to concern herself with. Like her current lack of a proper bra. While she wasn¡¯t particularly gifted in the chest, her ladies were rather, ah, evident. The long-sleeved blouse was clearly meant to be worn with the accompanying corset, which she supposed acted as a stand-in for said absent undergarment in this world. It was a simple piece dyed a deep brown to offset the cream of her blouse with black laces that thankfully tied down the front rather than the back or sides. Between her billowy sleeves and pants that were clearly meant to be worn with boots, she looked like a pirate or Renfaire attendee. Minus the footwear, of course. Luckily, she¡¯d been to a festival or two herself in recent years, so donning the corset properly was not a completely foreign concept. The damn thing was as tight as she remembered, but at least it took care of her cleavage issue. So long as she didn¡¯t take too deep of a breath, she¡¯d be fine, right? Once she was satisfied, she peered back into the main living space with her borrowed cloak in hand. Kaedric was still in the kitchen, back dutifully facing her while he fussed around with something she couldn¡¯t see. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, grimacing at the way the movement aggravated her sores. ¡°I¡¯m decent,¡± she said, clearing her throat. The man turned to her and looked her over with a nod. ¡°You¡¯re looking refreshed,¡± he said, gesturing toward the small dining table where an array of medical supplies had been arranged. There was even a pair of thick, woolen socks, ¡°We should see to your feet. Infection is a nasty business.¡± ¡°I can only imagine what I picked up while I was wandering around out there,¡± she said, wobbling her way over. She set his cloak aside before taking a seat and crossing one ankle over her knee to take a peek at her toes for herself. Maybe using her detect life skill would be worthwhile in this instance? The skin was clearly agitated, but she didn¡¯t see any signs of infection yet. Which didn¡¯t mean nothing had been introduced, it simply hadn¡¯t had enough time to develop and gain a foothold. No pun intended, of course. Fortunately, activating a skill, much like summoning her spiritbook, took no more than a thought. She held a hand over her upturned foot, focusing on whatever tiny beasties might be hiding along the cuts and sores. Her skin prickled when she sensed them¨C the tiny colonies of bacteria festering within the wounds. Her knowledge of the microorganisms was inherent, somehow, and though she did not know the names of the bacteria, she knew on some intuitive level they were not in the least bit beneficial. ¡°Well, that¡¯s definitely useful,¡± she said under her breath. When she withdrew her hand and sat back, she noticed Kaedric had stopped to stare. He had a wooden bowl in hand along with what appeared to be a soft towel. His brows were furrowed, expression pensive. ¡°What are you doing?¡± He asked. ¡°Detecting life, apparently,¡± she said, ¡°Why? What¡¯s wrong?¡± His lips parted as he looked to the door, then back at her. ¡°You¡¯re a Type Three?¡± It wasn¡¯t so much a question as it was an accusation. ¡°Type Three? What are you talking about?¡± ¡°What¡¯s your gemcore?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t even know what you¡¯re¨C¡± ¡°Your gemcore, Miss Lockard,¡± he said, an edge to his voice. She stared at him for a long moment, wondering what it was that provoked him. ¡°Animite,¡± she said. She might not know exactly what it meant, but she¡¯d made sure to memorize everything the book had shown her. A shaky breath escaped Kaedric¡¯s lips as he raked his free hand through his hair. ¡°Shit,¡± he muttered. A growing sense of unease built in Liv¡¯s chest. ¡°What? What is it?¡± She asked. The sudden sharpness in his brown eyes pinned her where she sat and a shiver raced up her spine. ¡°Why were you out in those woods?¡± He demanded. She flinched, ¡°I told you, I was lost.¡± ¡°That¡¯s hardly an answer.¡± ¡°What do you want me to say?¡± ¡°What I want is the truth. There are only two types of people with a gemcore like yours anymore and they¡¯re either priests or fugitives, so which are you?¡± ¡°Neither,¡± she insisted as she sat forward and placed both feet upon the ground, ¡°I¡¯m just a waitress. I¡¯m not running from anything.¡± He glanced toward the stone tile at her feet in what might have been confusion. ¡°And you¡¯re not a priestess of some sort?¡± He asked, taking a step closer. ¡°No!¡± The notion was utterly ridiculous. His lips thinned. ¡°Fine. How did you come to be lost, then?¡± Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Liv sat back in her chair, hesitating. Would he even believe her if she told him what happened? The more she considered it, a far more frightening possibility arose: what if he did believe her? What if she¡¯d unknowingly violated some interdimensional law? She¡¯d accidentally stolen an artifact of clearly some import, so maybe she really was a fugitive? Shit, was he going to turn her in? ¡°If I tell you the truth, what happens to me?¡± She asked. ¡°That depends entirely on what you¡¯re about to say,¡± he said. She scowled at him, but she couldn¡¯t really argue. He¡¯d taken her into his home, after all, helped her where he could have simply left her to fend for herself. It was a kindness that had been offered freely. An explanation was the least she could offer him and if she told him the whole of what happened and things still went south . . . she¡¯d simply have to figure it out from there. ¡°Fine. You want the truth?¡± She asked, crossing her arms, ¡°Less than a day ago, the catering company I work for was serving a private event. While we were there, one of my stupid co-workers snuck off to go lock lips with one of the guests. That sort of thing isn¡¯t exactly good for business, so I went to go find her, only I never did. Instead, I found myself in some sort of private museum with a bunch of spooky shit and this strange, glowing crystal. I touched it and the next thing I know, I¡¯m waking up in the middle of a forest with a tattooed arm and some magical journal claiming to be my spiritbook. I haven¡¯t the faintest idea where I am, but it clearly isn¡¯t home.¡± Each word had stumbled out faster than the last and by the time she finished, Olivia¡¯s breath had turned ragged. She placed a hand on her chest, cursing the sudden tightness within both it and her throat. Much as she wanted to blame her corset, her anxiety was the true culprit. The inklings of her panic attack had been lurking beneath the surface for hours and her forced positivity and mental diversions were only putting off what seemed like the inevitable. She wiped at her eyes in an effort to soothe the sting before the true tears began, averting her eyes from Kaedric and focusing her sight elsewhere. He stood there, quiet in his observation for what seemed like a damn eternity until he sighed and set the wooden bowl he¡¯d been holding upon the edge of the table. He pulled out one of the other chairs and angled it across from her own. Stiffening, she flicked her attention back to her host. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to say something?¡± She asked, cursing the break in her voice. He sat, leaned back in his seat and slowly rubbed a hand over his stubble. His thousand-yard stare resolved itself as he met her eyes and searched her face. His brows were still furrowed, but his former accusation had disappeared from his expression. Sighing through his nose, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, ¡°I believe you.¡± He did? Why did he look so resigned? ¡°That¡¯s it? You believe me, just like that? No questions asked?¡± ¡°Oh, I have plenty of questions,¡± he said, fixing her with a look, ¡°but I won¡¯t waste my breath asking for something I already know the truth of.¡± ¡°How could you possibly know?¡± He tapped two fingers to his chest, ¡°I have a geolite gemcore. While yours is aligned with cultivation, mine belongs to the earth. I can read a truth from a lie.¡± ¡°How?¡± She asked. He nodded toward the stonework tile, ¡°I have a skill called stonesense. Usually, it helps me detect different vibrations in the earth, but if someone is standing on soil or stone, I can feel the subtle cues of their body too.¡± She huffed a laugh, both amazed and mildly annoyed, ¡°So you¡¯re what, some sort of human lie detector?¡± He nodded. ¡°I guess that explains the lack of wood floors,¡± she muttered. ¡°I couldn¡¯t stand walking around on such flimsy material all day,¡± he said, shuddering, ¡°The deck is one thing, but the interior of my own home is another.¡± ¡°Mm, something tells me you¡¯d hate the highrises where I¡¯m from. But then again, they¡¯re usually made from concrete and metal, so maybe you¡¯d be right at home?¡± ¡°Maybe. Where is home, exactly?¡± ¡°Earth. At least, that''s what the planet is called.¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°You''re from a planet named Earth? A bit uninspiring, don''t you think?¡± Liv held her hands up, ¡°Don''t look at me, I didn''t name it.¡± ¡°Whoever did deserves a demotion.¡± ¡°Well, if I ever find the person responsible, I''ll pass on the sentiment,¡± she said. She could have sworn he smirked before he gestured to her right arm, ¡°Those are the tattoos, then?¡± ¡°I noticed you eyeing them in the woods. Do you know what they are?¡± She asked, rubbing a hand over the slightly raised skin. ¡°It looks like an artifact brand to me,¡± he said, ¡°Do you not have similar things where you¡¯re from?¡± She shook her head, ¡°Magic is more a myth than anything. We don¡¯t have gemcores or spiritbooks or skills. Well, not outside of video or card games, I suppose.¡± ¡°Your world sounds less and less appealing each time you talk about it,¡± Kaedric said. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think the same,¡± she admitted, then tilted her head and narrowed her eyes a moment, ¡°You¡¯re taking this all a little too well for someone who''s just been told about an entirely different reality existing outside of his own.¡± He shrugged, ¡°The possibility of other worlds and realities has been theorized by the Magisterium before. I could say the same of you, though. You¡¯re the one that was actually transported from one to another.¡± She rubbed at her cheek, ¡°Fair enough. Honestly, I¡¯m not even sure I¡¯ve fully processed that fact. Maybe it has to do with how familiar everything is? The trees, the mountains, the farms, hell, even the people. Aside from a few details, it¡¯s all perfectly normal to me. Now, if you were some giant talking cat or some lanky, purple alien, maybe I¡¯d have more of an issue.¡± ¡°Thankfully, I am neither, last I checked.¡± That earned a half-hearted laugh on Liv¡¯s part, ¡°Thankfully.¡± ¡°What are the people like from your world?¡± He asked. ¡°The same as yours, I¡¯d imagine. At least as far as appearances go,¡± she said, gesturing between them, ¡°There are a few variations in skin tones and facial structures, but they¡¯re not all that different from you and I.¡± He tilted his head, ¡°Are they the only sentient species?¡± ¡°I suppose that depends on who you ask. Dolphins and whales and plenty of other animals are smarter than most people give them credit for, but most don¡¯t believe they really compare to humans. Why? Don¡¯t tell me you have elves and dwarves?¡± ¡°Well, I can¡¯t speak to whatever those are, but we do have the animalis,¡± he said. Now, Liv¡¯s latin was a bit rusty, but she was fairly certain that meant animal or something like it. Were they different from beasts, then? If that was the case . . . Her eyes widened, ¡°Are you telling me you have animal-human hybrids running around?¡± ¡°In a sense, I suppose,¡± he said, ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t run around calling them that. It¡¯s rude.¡± She winced, ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ll keep that in mind when I¡¯m in the city.¡± He pursed his lips, ¡°I¡¯m not sure going into Ralencia is a good idea.¡± ¡°Because people with gemcores like mine are either priests or fugitives?¡± She guessed. ¡°And because you know nothing about where you are.¡± ¡°I can get by,¡± she argued. He crossed his arms, ¡°Alright, then tell me what a surgence is.¡± She hadn¡¯t the faintest idea and he knew it. ¡°That¡¯s what I thought,¡± he said, ¡°How old are you, anyway?¡± ¡°Twenty-six. Why? Is there some sort of age-bias I should know about?¡± Kaedric watched her for a silent moment, gaze brimming with resignation, pity and what might have been a hint of jealousy. Then, he cast his attention elsewhere and sighed carefully through his nose. If she didn¡¯t know any better, the man seemed like he was about to tell her someone had died. Right as she opened her mouth to speak, he said, ¡°No one on this continent is younger than two-hundred and nineteen, Liv.¡± Her brow furrowed, for that didn¡¯t make any sense. ¡°You¡¯re toying with me,¡± she said. His sore chuckle bordered on something pained, ¡°I wish I was.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no one younger? No babies, no kids, not even any teens?¡± He shook his head, ¡°Not since the surgence.¡± Liv blinked, ¡°I. . . I don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°Which is why you shouldn¡¯t be out there on your own. You may be able to slip by, but what happens when you ask the wrong question? Cross the wrong person? You know nothing about where you are and that, more than I think you realize, is dangerous. Especially in a place like this.¡± Her cheeks warmed at the hint of embarrassment his words evoked. He wasn¡¯t wrong, she was completely out of her element here, but admitting that somehow made her feel like an idiot. A child. But, she supposed ignorance and stupidity were two different things. One could be fixed with enough time and information. ¡°Then what am I supposed to do? Sit here and wait for a miracle to happen? I need to find someone who can help me and no offense, but I don¡¯t think you have the sort of answers I need.¡± A muscle along his jaw ticked as he sat back in his seat, ¡°You¡¯re right, I¡¯m not. But, I¡¯d be lying if I said I didn¡¯t know someone who might.¡±