Twice as Bright

by Ghost_Mariachi

Summary:

'If you're reading this, my name is Zephyr and I'm stuck on a planet with magic and necromancers and cat-people. I lost my friend Celena at FanExpo FantasyCon, and I don't know what I'm doing here, but there's a thing called an 'Astrolabe' stuck in my chest and I should have called my parents a few days ago and I'm starting to lose my shit about it all. My phone is dead, but I'm near a place called Porrima. PLEASE SEND HELP!'

I capped the bottle and flung it overhand into the ocean as far as I could, watching the sunlight twinkle off the green glass as it spiraled over the waves.

Sage bumped up next to me, and we watched it plunk into the water together. "What was that about?"

I crossed my arms and shivered. "Don't worry about it."
~*~
Zephyr was an escapist. Whether it was the monotony of her café job, her lonely city apartment, the lingering sting from her ex's contempt, or her life unravelling and slipping through her fingers-at least her favorite game would always be there. But when she crashed head first in Astraea with no way out, even her wildest fantasies coming true would force her to confront her best self and worst fears.

Chapter 1

My name is Zephyr Lazuli-Starr Owens.

No, seriously, it says so right there, on my driver’s license, and my passport and birth certificate. Trust me, I’ve gotten all the looks. It's not like I picked it out. I’ve had this name for 26 years and sometimes I still feel baffled by it too. Roll call used to be the bane of my existence, always getting called on last and getting a crinkled nose or an arched brow by every new teacher, stranger, and classmate. But what can I say? My parents were really young romantics when they had me. And just like anything else that you can’t escape, I’d grown used to it.

I’d video-called them as I waited in line for FanExpo FantasyCon. Mom had made me take a picture of my ticket the night I arrived at my hotel room, the evening before the event, and demanded that I send her and Dad pictures of my cosplay once I was in line and call them once I had a chance. Two birds with one vid-chat.

Mom got ridiculous first, wiping the edges of her eyes with the tips of her slender fingers. “Just look at you! All that hard work really shows!”

“Mom, stahp.” I blushed, ducking my gaze to my clothes, hoping nobody else could hear us. I shouldn’t have felt embarrassed. But I was on my own at this Con, and everything's a bit harder when you’re alone.

I was really proud of my outfit, though. I’d painstakingly spent months working on it, an re-working it. Mom and I had spent hours hand-punching the carved metal armor pauldrons and scale mail together while watching online tutorials. My fingers were still sore from threading so many spikes into the dyed, oversized-denim jacket that I’d re-purposed for a apocalypse-knight themed Starsworn uniform. The knight’s emblem was cut off of an old T-shirt and patched on to the back of the jacket with dental floss after I ran out of thread at the last minute. Scraps of soft fabrics I’d gleaned from Mom’s sewing pile had made it into the cuffs and inner layers to make small inside-pockets. I don’t know if I could have finished it without her. She deserved to feel proud too.

“You be safe, kiddo.” My dad's head dipped into the camera from the side, trying to look stern in the tye-died sweatshirt I’d made for him last Christmas. He’d always had a boyish look to him, especially when he swept his thick dark hair back into a dense bun at the back of his head that he still thought was fashionable. He looked like what you’d think of a hipster carpenter would look like, with black, thick-framed glasses, and was probably wearing his worn Carhart overalls under the sweatshirt. He gave the best advice and always supported my online presence and I adored him. “Let us know when you get out of your con and are heading home.”

“I will, Dad. I’ll text you as I go tonight. I’m hoping to meet some other creators along the way, so don’t send sirens until I check back in to my hotel. I feel really good about this!”

I don't know if this was a lie or not. I'm definitely putting myself out here, hoping to meet like-minded people. I still felt untethered, somewhat anxious about my solitude.

Mom threw Dad her patented Don’t embarrass her look before turning back to me. “Don’t hesitate to call us if you feel uncomfortable, or if you think about Zach—“

“No no no, nooooo, I’m fine! It’s fine.” I said, maybe too quickly. That didn't sound as shrill as I thought it did, did it? “Seriously, that’s the last thing I want to think about.”

Mom threw up placating hands. “Sorry! I shouldn’t have brought that up, I get that you’re trying not to think about it. Just remember to check in. We get worried when you’re so far away.”

“I’m an eighteen hour drive away, not stuck in the Mariana Trench. I’ll be fine.” The people around me started picking up their belongings from the ground, the chatter around me becoming excited. “I gotta go, looks like the line is starting to move.”

Dad’s expression became firm. “Do you have your flashlight?”

I dug the compact flashlight he’d given me out of my pocket. It was a dense little thing that packed quite a punch. I wiggled it in my fingers in front of the screen.

“Good. Don’t be afraid to use it if anything gets weird—“

People started to push together in anticipation to enter the convention. “Dad, I’ll wreck their shit if anyone gives me trouble, don’t worry! OkayIloveyouByeeee!”

“We love you too!” They said in unison. I blew them a kiss and hit the red button on my phone and started running with the crowd.

My adorable family dynamic was something I'd always cherished and loved above all else. I’d even forgiven them for naming me after a random fart from a west horizon.

The lines around me ushered my footsteps forward, and I felt a thrill in my chest. Finally, I could attend the FanExpo FantasyCon, the event of my dreams.

As soon as the doors split their doors open, the lines of crowds fragmented into hundreds of people running towards the booths that hosted their favorite fandoms. I soon became like a river stone, letting the flood of people rush around me. I held my belongings together tight against me as I edged to the side of the throng.

I managed to put my back to a wall, watching gamers and cosplayers fly by me into the convention hall. Excitement bubbled in my chest. There was so much to look at! I’ve always been the kind of person to write out an itinerary, study it the night prior, and then promptly throw away my notes on the day of the event. Now that I was there, presented by so many dazzling displays—is that an animatronic dragon in the far corner?—I wondered if I could actually make it to all the places I'd wanted to visit.

Zach would have taken my hand and led me through the crowds with a smirk-

Ugh, stop. Thinking about him was stupid at this point. I’d only just arrived, no reason to worry about what I might miss. I squared my shoulders, adjusted my backpack comfortably, and marched through the alleys between the booths.

Despite being alone, and being relatively shy at first, the amount of friendliness and shared excitement was incredibly soul-invigorating. I chatted and took photo-ops with Pyramid-head while we waited in line for a new indie game, brawled through a new smash-and-grab with a Bloodborne hunter, and later shared donut holes with Princess Peach. I smiled and laughed harder than I’d had in weeks, especially since…

No, this was for me. I wouldn’t let the memories of my ex leave a sour taste on my life after we’d broken up.

A light touch on the back of my shoulder caught my attention. “Excuse me, are you a Starsworn knight?”

My neck wanted to swivel around like Linda Blair in the Exorcist before the rest of my body followed. A pretty girl in a frilly, pink dress and white bunny ears smiled at me.

No way. No. Way. My jaw dropped. Celena! She was my favorite cosplayer on social media. Her makeup and effects for Last Legacy had inspired me to work on my own cosplay. I’d used her patterns before and worked my own flair into designing my own Starsworn costume while playing her livestreams—why wasn’t I just saying this out loud?

My jaw must have dangled for too long, because she curtsied graciously. “I’m Celena.”

As if I didn’t know! She grinned wryly and poked a playful finger against my shoulder. “I thought I recognized you when you were posing with the dragon.”

I finally found my voice, and it came out like a weird guffaw. “Wow! I-I’ve watched your stuff, I’m a huge fan of yours!”

She beamed and brushed her hands down her petticoats in effortless grace. The tall white ears on her head bobbed. “Thank you! Like I said, I could recognize you too, from across the hall. I really love your cosplay, it’s really awesome.”

I could have melted in a puddle and died happy, right then and there. Instead, I made a show of twirling my dinky scepter between my fingers like a drumstick. “Well, you guessed right! Starsworn mage, at your service. I’d perform some magic for you, but they confiscated my fireworks at the door.”

She laughed demurely. The rush of bewildered excitement flooded my body from head to toe. I didn’t always have a chance to talk to another fan of my favorite game, in person. This was really a dream come true. She gestured to one of the doors on the outskirts of the enormous room. “Did you get to see the posters yet?”

I quirked my head to the side. “Posters?”

“For the new Last Legacy game.”

“Oh right!” Obviously, I’d only dressed up for it and was talking about it. I should have known what she was talking about. Be cool. “I just thought we had a couple hours until the announcement.”

She winced. “We’d better get in line soon, a lot of people want to get signings with the developer’s panel.”

I glanced at my phone, the clock ticking to 2:44pm. Shit, she was right. The event started at 4, but a lot of other fans were probably as excited as I was. The lines would have started already.

“Do you want to go together?”

Shock must have blasted over my face, because she giggled a little awkwardly, her hand curling a short lock of hair around her ear. “I’m not here with friends that I’m like, super close with. It’d be nice to hang out with someone who’s actually a fan.”

Without thinking, I extended my arm out. She looped her arm around my elbow with a tinkling laugh. “Thanks. Oh, what was your name?”

“Uh, it’s Zephyr.” I said, shrugging with an embarrassed smile. “Like the wind.”

She extended her free hand with smile that highlighted the twin dimples on her round cheeks. “It’s nice to meet you, Zephyr Like-the-wind.”

“Charmed.” I shook her hand with my less-dominant hand, and we chuckled together at the awkwardness, but I didn't mind. And that was it. I’d made a friend, who liked the same things I did. This day could not get better.

We meandered past groups of other cosplayers, taking time to do photo ops and I shared my info with Celena. She promised to text me later when she had a chance to charge her phone. Together we entered a spinning glass door, laughing as we pushed through it in circles several times until dizziness spat us out into a hall junction. To the left was an area that was cordoned off with red ropes. Through hydraulic glass doors, we could see rows of chairs lined on each side of an aisle leading up to the stage, which held several chairs in formation behind a podium. Celena tugged at my arm before I could dart towards it, pointing. “Check out the mural on the wall!”

Down the hall on the right side was a huge, gorgeous display of a Last Legacy promotional art. My eyes scanned through it with hunger, looking for clues and details that might indicate what the new game might reveal. I recognized the two iconic champions from the original game, but I’d never seen them look so damn good.

Magister Escell, the pompous Battlemage with cheekbones to die for, delivering a spell mid-sentence. He stood straight with a determined look, doing the classic mage pose with an extended hand engulfed in green flames.

“He was always kind of a douche, don’t you think?” I said, pursing my lips to one side.

Celena hummed, shrugging. “I don't know about that. He was always pretty useful to have in the party. And he’s pretty hot.”

I shrugged. “I guess, if you like starched shirts and posh-“ My voice trailed off, captivated by the other character in the mural. Ayanna Anka.

“Wow.” I breathed, detaching from Celena’s side. Engineer extraordinaire, the clever machinery specialist, rendered in a lovingly artistic stance that was familiar to her fighting style. I always loved paying her side missions, countless times. I knew all of her dialogue options and routes. Including her forbidden romance with the game’s final villain. I desperately hoped that the new game wouldn't discard her role.

The mural showed her end-game armor, which somehow managed to be epic… and yet annoyingly typical of goober artists conceptualizing strong women for the male gaze. How the hell was she supposed to fight in that?

I chuckled, leaning back towards Celena. “You think Escell would look good in a chainmail bikini? That would be some hilarious mod for his magic ass.”

Silence.

I turned to look at her, but she’d disappeared. I scanned the hall for her. Where had she gone?

“Hello?” My voice echoed in the empty room. Confused, I called out to her. “Celena?”

Where did everyone go? I pulled my phone from my jacket pocket to check the time. It was 3pm. We were supposed to start getting in line for the Last Legacy announcement. Did Celena ditch me?

If she had, how did I not notice her leave? She was standing right next to me.

Before I could begin to feel my feelings hurt, something bumped against my ankle. A long staff rolled to a stop by my feet.

I squinted at it. Why did it look so familiar? I took another glance around. Could this be some weird promotional prank? I scanned the upper corners of the hall for cameras, but found nothing but clean walls and gleaming fixtures.

I looked back down. It was just a pretty staff... with a golden gyro-scoping set of rings fixed to the top, rolling with it’s own mysterious momentum. Within, it held an iridescent crystal sphere, pulsing with dim light. The more I stared at it, the clearer I heard a hum, becoming cleaner and louder. It vibrated like a struck tuning fork. And the more I stared, the harder it was to look away. I could begin to see the wavelengths, the ripples surrounding the air, emanating around a strange, iridescent light.

It hit me with a stark realization. The Astrolabe. One of the ultimate legendary weapons in the original Last Legacy games!

"Heh, score!" And I reached down to grab it.

The moment my fingertips touched the staff, a brilliant flash of blinding light erupted from the globe. The humming chord echoed in my ears in a crescendo, louder and louder until it was all I could hear.

The ground splintered beneath my feet, tile disintegrating and gravity abandoned me. I fell backwards from the bright light that sung of dawn, gasping as I reached for anything to grab on to. I fell though an icy black that enveloped me, dotted with tiny distant lights and a morning cresting over the curve of a damask planet. My last glimpse was of falling though crisp cold darkness, a flurry of fireflies spiraling above me while I fell into nothingness.

Chapter 2

I felt like I was emerging from a deep pool, with no real indications of a surface to break through. I must have been dreaming, floating in some liminal space with no sense of direction, but I couldn’t explain how I knew that something wasn’t right. The space around me felt thinner than water and denser than air. Maybe this was what birds felt like, floating along a series of invisible rogue thermal winds.

There! A distant light was approaching, some dim beacon through a dark fog. I tried swishing my arms, and found that there was enough friction in the matter surrounding me that I could redirect myself. I managed a gentle spiral, still tied to this odd, bright focal point to guide me. I could work with this. But even that thought echoed further and further away from me, bouncing around an invisible chamber much bigger than my own head could allow.

I brought my hands up in front of my face, flexing them experimentally. Whatever matter I was traveling through was gleaning away bright pinpricks of light from the edges of my skin. Like when you stand up too quickly and see stars, drifting silently away from the dark outlines of my digits. It was hard to focus on any individual pinprick, but I still became lost in the sight of them swirling away into the dark. Only then did I realize how fast I was actually moving.

In fact, the more time I spent in this space, I could feel a pull from something within my ribcage, some invisible line or cable taking me for a ride. But I wasn’t drifting upwards to a surface. I was … falling.

And gaining speed.

By now, the beacon could illuminate the surrounding fog. It whipped and furled in lashing wisps against my skin and clothes as I plummeted. The light glowed brighter, searing white hot through my clamped eyelids. I shielded my eyes with my hands, which looked blackened against the harsh glow I hurtled towards.

Seconds before impact, the brightness evaporated. I caught a glimpse of a spiraling tear of millions of tiny lights hurtling past me. Then…

~*~

I’d never been a serious car accident, but I imagined it must feel akin to what happened next. Consciousness returned to me in a flashbang behind my eyes. I slammed into something that would have knocked all the wind out of me, but it seemed like I didn’t have any to begin with. I sucked an explosive breath into my oxygen-starved lungs. Air had never tasted so good.

A ragged coughing fit punched through my whole body, and I seized painful gasps of air whenever I could. My senses were in shambles, like windmilling back from intense vertigo.

Soft rain echoed off of stone, but it was difficult to tell where it was coming from. I felt like I had collapsed in a drunken stupor, vision stuttering as the rest of my head swam, and my heart was beating me up from the inside out. I was vaguely aware of stars, stone masonry, and a crackle of energy fizzing out.

It certainly smelled like a rainstorm had swept over dry earth, but also of eye-watering phosphorous that singed my nostrils. I tried lifting my head, but my brain was still spinning inside my cranium. But something else clicked into place. Not rain. Whispering. All around me.

Cathedral murmurs of hundreds of voices praying all at once, their words indistinguishable. I groaned, wanting to press my head into the ground to stop the rush of voices until I was buried shoulder deep.

It took a monumental effort to blink into the dim area and bite back the growing nausea. Candelabras dripped wax on stone steps that led up to a lonely alcove, flickering with eerie rose gloaming. The carved stone was in varying stages of disrepair, and layers of dust and cobwebs clung to the corners. It could have been a forgotten room in an old castle.

It took me a stupidly long while to notice I was resting over something that was shifting and making noise, and breathing into my shoulder.

I jolted, as much as I could, anyway. But by then I had arms wrapped around me in a hard embrace. A low voice, thick and choked with emotion, murmured against me. “Five years, I’ve dreamt of this day.”

I tried to speak, but it came out as a rasp. I planted my hands against the stone beneath and heaved, but was held in place while this stranger that spoke, sotto voce. “…Yet it seems neither fate nor the stars can keep us apart.”

Oh god, this is weird. This was all a horrible misunderstanding of epic proportions. I’d clearly eaten a drugged donut hole— Princess Peach, how could you?!— and probably had been prancing around the convention hall with drool on my chin until I collided with this poor rando. I was probably gonna get kicked out of the convention, maybe even arrested. I’d definitely missed the whole Last Legacy: Ex Nihilo panel by now. My parents would lose their collective minds and --

A flood of fresh panic iced my bloodstream as this stranger—this total freaking stranger—nuzzled into my neck and pressed a kiss behind my ear. He spoke with all the intimacy of a forlorn lover. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!”

“M’kay, thas ‘nuff.” My voice slurred as I swatted his face. He made a startled, squawking noise as I shoved off, hauling myself up on shaking limbs into a loose cobbler’s pose as my head swam. Easy does it, baby steps. The world was already returning to a normal rotation. I held my hand out for balance.

“You— you arent Rime?”

I pried open an eye to find this young man with dark, shoulder-length hair. He was gawking at me like my head had split off my shoulders and rolled away. Which, to be fair, I couldn’t promise wouldn’t happen.

“You’re not Rime. You’re … you’re not…”

I opened my mouth to say something snarky, but the utterly devastated look on his face stopped my throat from working. I settled for a small shake of my head.

It’s hard to watch someone’s eyes fill up with tears and not be able to do anything about it. His chest rose and fell rapidly with some flavor of alarm I wasn’t privy to. “Then … then who are you?”

I extended a hand out with a sheepish grin. “Name’s Zephyr. I think I might be on drugs.”

He stared at my hand in horror, then threw his open-mouthed gaze over to the top of the alcove dotted with dozens of candles. I followed his line of sight. The creepy sunset glow had diminished, and I could see the inky night sky beyond the balcony The lingering energy had dissipated, leaving quick sparks of static branching over the cobblestones. He clawed fingers up through his hair, burying his face into the crooks of his elbows. A moan laced with hysteria seeped out of him, like a dying animal.

I was starting to feel like a huge jerk. I shrank into myself while his shoulders shook. Should I pat him on the shoulder, offer some kind of comfort? Or would that would make the situation worse? Wait, why was I worried about him? I could barely hold my head up straight. Instead, I flexed my arms over my head in an attempt to return the feeling into my limbs. I was far from understanding what the hell is happening, and no evidence pointed to anything good. I definitely needed to move.

Above us, softly glowing motes of light drifted idly, what I’d mistaken for as stars against the dark backdrop of rotten rafters of the ceiling. A simple iron-wrought candelabrum hung from chains, fixed to loops on the plain wall. We were situated at the foot of a small landing that led to a large window. Or a balcony, it was hard to tell from the angle I sat from. But the real sky was what I wanted.

I shifted my weight and tested one leg experimentally, pleased with how my boot helped support my ankle. Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.

The young man before me groaned and swiped at his tear-stained face with the heels of his palms. He watched me struggle to my feet with those devastated gray eyes. I politely, pointedly ignored him while I found my footing, feeling uncomfortable by the raw emotion. I’d seen that same look in the mirror, not even a week ago, after getting dumped via text.

He blew a humorless laugh out his nostrils when I staggered, rolling his eyes and swiping a hand up his face. “Bloody hells.”

“No no no, don’t get up to help. I got this.”

The stranger reared up on his heels and shot up crisply. He scrutinized me with indignation, beginning a slow pace around me. “All right, interloper. Before we go any further, I must understand what manner of void creature you are.”

I took my time shaking feeling back into my limbs, watching him out of my peripheral, regarding me as he moved. I really did not like his scrutinizing me like that. “Be you some opportunistic fiend, fished from the abyss, eager for a cheap ride into our world? A lich, thirsting for innocents souls, or —”

“Are you doing a bit, right now? Or do you unironically talk like this all the time?” I take slow steps towards the alcove until he blocked my path, his eyes fierce. I groaned, wanting to rake my fingernails on my scalp. This is too weird. “I’m a barista. I manage a coffee shop, I do cosplay and stream gameplay for fun. And I have no idea how I got here, so if you don’t mind, help me up these steps, for god’s sake! I feel claustrophobic.”

He studied my face with that same indifference. I wafted a dismissive hand at him in disgust. “Whatever, forget it.”

My foot kicked one of the steps, and the rest of my body didn’t like that. Before I could crumple on the steps, this stranger grasped my elbows and held me upright. He grumbled, his voice next to my ear. “My apologies. My name is Felix Iskandar Escellun. Mage, scholar, and for all intents and purposes, necromancer.

“Charmed, or something.”

He managed a weak laugh. “This … must be strange for you as well. It appears we must rely on each other in pursuit of answers, for it seems I’ve made a most grave mistake.”

I burst into giggles before I could stop myself. I must have looked unhinged. "Oh, did the necromancer make a grave mistake? Do you need a minute to raise your spirits?""

He fixed me with a grim look of incredulity. “Really? Of all the useless, frivolous forms of wit…”

Once my laughing died down--oh no, the dumb puns just make themselves-- I tried to collect myself again.   “Now that we got that out of way, I need some fresh air until I can get my hands on some souls to devour.”

When he hesitated, I flashed him a weak smile. "Kidding!"

~*~

Felix wasn’t all that bad, as far as necromancers go. He’d let me lean on him until he placed me down against the stone rail, and sat himself across from me on the balcony, and we talked. About Astraea, the way I arrived, and the relic that had rolled towards me and what happened after. Magic… I felt breathless from it all.

He didn't seem happy about the result of his spell. I watched him gaze at the light spheres that escaped the confines of the room we were in, searching them like they held answers. The susurrations were much more quiet now. Muffled, like hearing them through walls of an apartment. They seemed to want to drift up into the sky, like migrating butterflies.

“What are they?” I asked.

“They’re the spirits of the dead,” He leveled his gray eyes to me, measuring me. “You arrived here as one of them. Yet somehow you manifested your whole self. And stole an undertaking of five years in the making.”

I stared back, maintaining a neutral expression. Maybe he was right, and my presence was an affront to him. I couldn’t shake the sense of guilt. He was obviously hurting deeply about something that went wrong, and had only me to show for it. But I wouldn’t let myself fluster and apologize for something that was in no way my fault. “Well, that probably explains the whispering.”

This seemed to surprise him. “You can hear them?”

“When I fell.” I pursed my lips to the side. “I mean, it felt like falling. But yeah, I heard a lot of voices all at once. It sounded like rain, but like each drop was a voice that was speaking. I couldn’t understand what they were saying.”

He nodded pensively, as if what I said made perfect sense. It didn’t seem like he had anything to reveal to me after that, so I craned my head back to the sky. The real sky. You never really notice how different the stars look until you leave your slice of the world. And now I was plopped into an entirely new world that only existed in the games I used to play. Astraea. I shuddered.

He spoke again eventually, moving his gaze back upwards as well. “The spirits of the long dead are typically invisible to mortal eyes. Unless one has had a brush with death before.”

“Well, I don’t feel dead.”

He blinked slowly, and I got a sense that I was putting my foot in my mouth. “Indeed. Sleep, death, and the endless void all share certain properties that leave behind their unique footprints. Dreams, for example. How often can you tell that you are in one?”

My skin crawled, and I had to resist the urge to rub my arms. “Sometimes I can. There are clues, like a cow ordering a cappuccino, or all of my teeth falling out…”

“And what do you think about seeing ghosts and hearing their death rattles?”

I felt cold. “What the fuck are you trying to say, Felix?”

His face broke into laughter, and if I wasn’t so agitated, I might have been more appreciative of how good a smile looked on him. “My dear barista, I merely jest. You’re very much alive. Take it from someone who knows a thing or two about death and all it’s mysteries.”

I leaned forward, sitting cross legged. “So, how do you know so much about it? Death and void whatevers, I mean. Did you go to magic school and major in Necromantics or something?”

His eyebrows shot up in alarm, but before he could say anything I gasped. “Was the Necronomicon a part of your syllabus? Who was your professor, was it something like Professor NeCornelius? Or Dr. Skellington? Did you take ‘Skellydancing’ as an elective?”

“All right, Zephyr. I suppose I deserved that.” Felix pulled his unbuttoned vest closer around him.

“You sure? ‘Cause I can keep going. I imagine the Necrodancing wouldn't get you far. What did your parents have to say about your career choice?"

Felix tisked. “It's not a career, its more like... why am I even explaining this to you? It's not like--it would be like majoring in Arson 2.0, completely absurd, and are you always like this?”

I shrugged, “Yeah, pretty much. And I don't think I know you well enough to feel comfortable with you making jokes at my expense.”

He bowed his head and offered a placating hand from where it rested on his knee. “’Tis noted. And Necromancy is simply a contentious issue. Practitioners have a tendency to be…” The same hand rolled around in it’s socket for moment, searching. “Death obsessed egomaniacs, many of whom desire to raise undead armies or aspire to become liches.”

I smiled wide and batted my eyelashes at him. “But not you, because you’re so different.”

“Naturally! I am a scholar first and foremost, and I seek to understand life and death as a means to—Ah!” He froze, craning his head to the side, as though listening to a far off tune.

I frowned. “Are you ok?”

Felix suddenly rose to his feet, as crisp and elegant as he had before. “I had been wondering what was taking them so long. We must leave.” He extended his hand out to me. “Now.”

I took his hand, nearly pulling him off balance as he helped me up. “What’s going on?”

He grimaced. “As I was saying, necromancy is generally frowned upon. And it appears my summoning may have drawn some unwanted attention. And did I mention we’re trespassing?”

I crinkled my nose as I gaped at him. “No, you did not mention that.”

BAM! I flinched, looking back at the old, iron-wrought door that rattled against its hinges. The realization struck me that I had had an escape route this entire time, if only I’d been more alert to notice. No chance for that now, that it was rattling against its hinges.

BAM! BAM! The door shook, and I could hear several authoritative voices clambering up a flight of stairs. I scooted closer to the necromancer next to me. “Felix? Any ideas?”

He grabbed my jacket and pulled me to the furthest edge of the balcony. “Summon the Astrolabe! Quickly!”

I sputtered, scrambling to catch my feet back from under me. The balcony rail dug into the small of my back. “What?”

“The Relic, Zephyr! Summon it now!”

“Dude, I don’t have any weird magic shit, the thing was gone the second I touched it—“

“Gods dammit!” He whipped his head around, facing the door that was getting absolutely throttled on its hinges. A bolt pinged off of one of the hinges. “We don’t have enough time. I can’t promise that I can send you to the right place.”

I shoved at his shoulder. “What the fuck does that mean? What’s going on?”

“Alterations.” Felix twirled back to me, the fingertips of his free hand engulfed in green flames that reflected in his pale eyes. “There’s only one person in all the world that I can leave you with. I hope to see you there soon.”

The door splintered and bowed. I could see armored boots kicking through the splinters.

Felix flung his arm in quick arcs above us, leaving dotted motes of green fireballs in a perfect hexagonal halo that crackled with energy. The smell of an entire book of matches being lit on fire filled my nostrils as he flung the magical circle down over the side of the rail.

The door broke, spilling several people in full mail armor through the splintered wreck.

Felix spared me a wince. “You should probably close your eyes.”

He gripped the front of my clothes and threw me off the balcony. I tumbled over, shrieking a curse at him as my heart flew up into my throat in terror. My stomach lurched as I reached out in a futile effort to grab anything. The green fire enveloped me, flaring white hot as I plunged into a rippling surface and blacked out.

Ugh. Again.

Notes:

Proofreading took longer than I expected. Thanks to everyone who read this!

Chapter 3

Not to totally reuse car-related metaphors, but if arriving in Astraea was like a car crash, then getting eaten alive by another one of Felix’s portals was like driving through a mountainside tunnel, but backwards. One second, I saw the edge of the balcony receding away, enveloped in green flame with alarming velocity, then a plume of darkness engulfed me—

My shoulder crashed onto a surface that splintered beneath me. The impact rattled my teeth, and my shoulder was suddenly not where it was before. The muscles surrounding seized up as I struggled to breathe, and I was acutely aware of a painful jut near my collarbone.

I reached a trembling hand to touch it out of instinct, the sharp of agony trapping my voice in my throat. Oh fuck, oh fuck, this is bad…

Hot honey soothed out from my fingertips, spreading tranquility across my torso all at once. My shoulder slicked back into it’s socket with a muted shlock that was startling as it was painful yet relieving. The jolt of it wrenched another gasp. But now it felt…really good. Healed. But how? I wanted to marvel at it some more, but cold metal dug into the space between my larynx and throat tendon. I froze, swallowing hard as I picked up my senses off of the carpet, and followed the shining blade up to the wielder.

Oh. Wow. She was tall, gorgeous, and glaring at me with the most vibrant green eyes I’d ever seen. Judging from her poise and demeanor, this was someone accustomed to wielding authority just as deftly as the slender blade in her grip. When she spoke, her voice was low and hypnotic. “This is, without a doubt, the worst assassination attempt I’ve ever witnessed.”

Gingerly, I raised my hands up in surrender, skewered in place by her piercing gaze. I gulped. “What if I said that this is all just a really big misunderstanding?”

“I will be the judge of that, after you answer my questions.” She pressed the flat of the blade against my cheek to turn my face to the fire light, crackling in the hearth nearby.

The room appeared to be an office, the walls lined with heavy wooden bookcases and sparsely decorated, but I was too afraid to look around with any focus. She narrowed her gaze, and I realized her pupils were slitted, like a cat. “Who are you?”

I should really get a name tag. “Zephyr Owens?”

“And how did you get here?”

"Uh, a portal?" That earned me a deeper press of her blade on my neck. "Wait, wait! Listen! I'm not from with world. One minute I was looking at a poster with my friend at this convention, and then there was this cool prop I found and I went to grab it and it was like WHOOSH! Then I fell into this creepy ritual and there were ghosts balls and this guy, Felix something-something Escellun was going on and on about death and stuff, and then these guards broke in and—“ I paused, feeling righteous anger flooding through my veins like a double-shot of whiskey. “Holy shit, that little twerp actually pushed me off a fucking balcony!”

Felix?” She looked startled. “You were with–”

“Like who just does that?” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat before plowing through the growing nausea in my stomach. “The first guy I meet after interdimensional travel kisses me, says he’s a necromancer, like—like, a total fucking weirdo, and tells me I’m in Astraea!” I threw my hands up in the air. “Like that’s not the craziest thing anyone’s ever said!”

“I… see. Well, that certainly fits Felix’s theatrics,” Anisa said, sheathing her sword with a sing of metal. “I think I might understand…some of what’s happening.”

Blood was rushing through my ears and I knew my face must be splotched red. “This is crazy, I feel like I’m going crazy. Oh shit, I’m sorry for annihilating your desk. I swear I’m not an assassin.”

“I think we’re well past that notion, don’t worry.” She extended her gloved hands out to me, which I grasped so she could pull me to my feet. Her hands were soothingly warm and firm around mine. “It seems like you’ve been through a lot recently. My name is Anisa Anka.”

I blinked, feeling the world sway under my feet, and I couldn’t help but grin in the growing terror of how deep I was in this shit. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

Anka. Like Ayanna Anka. I could see some of the resemblance now. Her strong, feline features, tall and graceful, authoritative. This wasn’t just a dream, like I’d kept trying to delude myself. The poster in the convention hall swam through my mind, and some quote I couldn’t quite piece together. Harbinger…

“Are you feeling well? You look pale.”

“I have to throw up.” I scrambled over to the waste basket next to the desk I’d demolished, and heaved the contents of my stomach out.

~*~

This is getting too real.

Anisa had left and returned with a glass of water. I’d scooped myself up off the floor and plopped into the chair she’d scooted under me just in time before I could fall back on my ass. My head throbbed, and my chest held a flurry of emotions that I didn’t know what to do with. I focused on breathing, on the heavy-bottomed glass I sipped water from, the cut of my fingernails pressing against my palms.

“Where did you get that Starsworn uniform?”

I look up blearily. Anisa was circling me, scrutinizing my clothes. Her gloved hand glided across the points of the spikes, tracing a path along the length of my shoulders. A surge of embarrassment brought heat to my cheeks as her fingers swept down the carbon steel pauldron, it’s rivets hammered in place with scrap leather from my dad's workshop. I adjusted the tempered scale mail I’d woven to fall over my chest, feeling like a kid playing dress up as I cleared my sore throat. “I made it.”

Anisa met my eyes, surprised. “You did? It’s remarkable work, despite being entirely against regulation.”

I laughed through my nose. “What?”

“Oh, don’t take that the wrong way. I think it’s rather pragmatic for a magician to don armor.” She said, fingers falling down my arm and over the soft leather bracers that my dad had shown me how to etch and burn the Starsworn emblem. “I haven’t met many who do the same.”

“Waitwaitwait, what are you talking about?” I shook my head so rapidly my vision blurred. “I’m not— I’m just a barista. I dress up for gaming streams, its all just fun. I’m not—“ I spun my wrist beseechingly. “I’m not anything.”

Anisa raised an eyebrow. “I saw you heal yourself. There’s no need to be coy.”

“But I—“ The swooning feeling was returning. “You got me totally wrong. I’m not a magician, I’m not even from around here.”

“Oh,” She chuckled. “I know you are not.”

My breath stopped in my chest. I stared at her, feeling my jaw tighten. “You…know?”

“Yes. I’ve found quite a few fascinating artifacts from other realms. Call it a hobby of mine.” Anisa rounded her desk, which was still caved in around the middle with my embarrassing entry to her office. She yanked a drawer open with a bit of a struggle, pulling out a few square articles and knelt in front of me, so that we were eye level. “Take a look.”

The printed material fish-hooked my attention. “Is that—”

She nodded, beaming affectionately at the small stack of letters in her hands. “From places…beyond.”

I snatched the materials out of her hands, picking up the postcard on top first. It was a picture of a cartoon dolphin launched up out of the ocean. An air bubble with a quote spread over the top. I frowned, reading out loud. “What… made the dolphin blush?”

“It saw the ocean’s bottom!” Anisa finished with an indulgent laugh.

Oh god, that was bad, even for me. Next, I picked up an envelope with a broken wax seal. The letter inside was inked beautifully, though the script was not a language I was familiar with. The stationary was stamped with an image of a snake coiled around a mortar and pestle.

“The one under is my favorite.” Anisa pointed to the next card in my lap, a little excitement slipping through the cracks of her composure. The card was worn soft around the edges, portraying a snapshot of the sun setting on a sandy beach, palm trees, gulls hanging in the sky over gently lapping, purple waves. Curling script was printed at the bottom. Welcome to Orlando.

I looked at her in confusion. “Where did you get these?”

Anisa licked her bottom lip. “I…found all these. Across my travels. They were so unique, I couldn’t help but keep them.”

“So you know about where I come from then. About Earth.”

She bobbed her head to the side, a hint of a blush to her cheeks. “Well, somewhat. I’ve always been curious.”

“You know about Earth!” I exclaimed, shaking my head in disbelief. “This is—this is crazy! How—”

A billow of energy thrummed through the office, sending loose pens rolling off of the ruined desk. I barely had enough time to stand up when an oval of dark rippling substance opened up on the ceiling. Felix tumbled through and rolled onto the rug. The portal sucked back into itself with a wet smack and vanished.

Anisa was on her feet instantly. “Felix! How many times have I told you to just knock?”

“Well met, Annie.” Felix groaned from the ground, folding himself up to an upright position, adjusting his collar. “You look lovely as always.”

Within his arms I saw my backpack. Everything I had left of my life. Fury bolstered me up in renewed zeal.

He looked up at me in relief. “Zephyr! I’m glad to see that you made it here in one piece. Would you—“

I yanked my bag out of his grasp and started smacking him with it repeatedly. “That’s! For throwing me! Off! The balcony!”

“Zephyr—Ow! What—Ow! Stop that!”

Anisa reached out like she wanted to stop me, but thought twice and did a poor job of hiding her amusement. “It appears you have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I will-Ow! Stop!”

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and crossed my arms. “Why’d you throw me?”

He flinched again like I’d hit him. “My dear barista, what about the necromancy discussion befuddled you? I couldn’t let them catch us both red-handed. I had to lead them off.”

“Felix,” Anisa glared. “Don’t tell me you framed her for a crime she didn’t commit?”

“No! I…merely pinned an illicit ritual on someone that looked rather like her, but was, for lack of any evidence, unconnected to our new friend here in any way.”

I raised my bag up again to strike, but he threw up his hands up in defense. “The key point to take away from this is that no one knows who you are in Astraea, as of yet. Regardless of the way you entered our world, you are free to move about as you please without suspicion.”

Okay. That tilts things back into perspective, but I still had some questions. “What about you? You were there too, when those guards broke through. How did you get away?”

“Fortunately for us, they were simply hired security, meant to deter vandals and looters. All I had to do is wave my Relic, remind them of the war, and point the other way. Much easier to fool than, lets say, a Sunstone Knight. Er, present company excluded.”

Anisa let out a deep breath, then hooked her arm under Felix’s shoulder and pulled him up to his feet. “Five years, and you’re still playing dangerous games. How are you going to fix this?”

Felix brushed dust from his sleeves, pointedly not looking at me. “Well, it could take months, maybe years to recreate the ritual...”

That hit me like a fist to the stomach. “That’s not the answer I wanted to hear.”

“Well…” Felix tugged at his vest and looked at the floor, half-shrugging.

I wanted to be angry. It felt food to seethe, and my hands were itching to seize Felix by his stupid robes and shake him until I got my answers. He was a few inches taller than I was, but from our brief interactions I could tell he weighed like a bird. But…goddamn, he had such a genuine grief behind his eyes. It was like trying to get mad at a puppy.

Instead, I gripped his forearms, leveling my eyes with his. “Listen. I’m all alone here. I need someone like you on my side, so I can get back home. You got me here, so that means you can probably get me back, right?”

He grimaced, clearing his throat as he tried to pull away. “That…might be a difficult task to achieve.”

“Felix,” Anisa said, with all the patience of a lion tracking a gazelle. “What exactly have you gotten yourself into?”

I release my hold on him. “Fine. Yeah. Explain how you oopsie-daisied me into a different world.”

“Well. You see, portals, ah…” Felix sucked air through his teeth while looking away. “…are temperamental things.”

I exchanged exasperated looks with Anisa. “Really? That’s all you got?”

“Look, it’s…” Felix pinched the bridge of his nose, then started making quick, illustrative motions with his hands. “It’s not as simple as hailing a carriage to Althtal. It’s-it’s a very specific science that allowed this particular event take place. To reverse-engineer this accident—to send back instead of summon—and simultaneously prevent the rest of reality from unraveling when manipulating one of many interconnected threads, is a drastically challenging task!”

Anisa shook her head. “So, you have no idea how to undo what you’ve done?”

Felix deflated. “In essence, no. Not yet.”

Well, shit. From what I’d gathered, I knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as slapping a return-to-sender sticker on my butt and crossing my fingers. Was it so unreasonable to expect a little more to work with? I shifted my weight on one leg to let my knee bounce, rocking on the balls of my right foot. “All right, we’ve established that this is some big-brained magical endeavor. What’s the first step we can take to boost our efforts?”

The two of them looked at each other. Anisa spoke first. “Well, perhaps a united Starsworn effort—”

Felix shook his head firmly. “No.”

“But together—“

“Our collective intellect would plummet, and then where would we be?”

“He’s the only one left of our order with a Relic.”

Felix made a pained scoff. “What order? It died when—”

“What are you guys talking about?” I asked.

Anisa nibbled on her bottom lip. Felix ground his jaw tight, throwing his gaze up at the ceiling as he started to pace in a circle.

“Well, don’t everyone fire off all at once. Anisa, help me out here?”

She took a long inhale through her nose before responding. “There is one other Starsworn knight that might be able to help. With his efforts combined with ours, that is.”

“That’s great! Lets go get him!" I watched them dither. "What’s the problem?”

Anisa and Felix shared looks of apprehension before looking at me. “Just…don’t get your hopes up yet.”

~*~

The Saucy Gull looked like it'd survived a hurricane. Pieces of the roof were smashed and thatched with pieces of detritus back in place, and there were several gouges dug into the stone walls. The wooden door had a gap nearly two inches off of the floor, and I saw a rat sneak out from under it to scamper away. Ugh, I could already smell the stale piss and splattered beer already.

Anisa, Felix, and I hovered next to the entrance. My hands were numb in the frigid evening wind, so I shoved them under my armpits. "Who are we looking for?"

Felix snorted. "Sage should be easy enough to find. Just look for the loudest and most annoying person in the room."

I turned to Anisa, and she shrugged. "He's not wrong."

"What's so special about him?"

"He's got a Relic." Felix said reluctantly. "But make no mistake. Sage is a scoundrel. He's as likely to kiss you as he is to kill you."

Damn. And this is how his friends describe him. I shivered. “So what’s the plan?”

“You and Felix will scout the place for Sage, or his whereabouts. Try not to draw attention to yourselves.” Anisa said. “If he’s not there, let’s regroup here and discuss our findings.”

“Wait, you’re not coming?”

Anisa grimaced. “It might be better if I wait out here for you.”

I narrowed my eyes at her in a friendly reproach. “Don’t tell me you ran out on the bill.”

Her mouth dropped open in indignance. “Of course not! It’s just…this place tends to attract the unsavory types who wouldn’t take too kindly to a Sunstone Knight hanging around in their midst.”

“Ohhh,” I said. “Like a fox in a hen house kinda thing. Except instead of chickens its more like other foxes, or badgers actually—“

“Stick with me Zephyr,” Felix offered out his arm for me to take. “We’ll see this through.”

“Okay, if you say so,” I said, looping my arm around his.

“Be safe,” Anisa said. “Yell if you need me.”

Felix threw the door aside, and the smell of a thousand dive bar bathrooms hit my nostrils. It looked worse on the inside. The place was packed, thick with the constant murmur of so many gruff voices and bodies in a small space. I couldn't help but stick next to Felix, who slipped and shuffled us under burly arms and through pot-bellies until we reached the bar. Something about it reminded me of home, though. How Zach would take my hand and lead me through crowds, until we found a place together where I could hide my face in the crook of his neck.

Someone shoved against Felix, throwing me a dirty look before leaving. I only caught a glimpse of a young and dirty face. Whatever, it meant that there was now a gap near the bar, which Felix and I quickly slipped into.

Felix snapped his fingers. “Barkeep! 2 Porrima reds!”

I scrunched my face. “Is that seriously your bar etiquette?”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “Did you have a different approach in mind?”

“I dunno, maybe say please, or wait your turn?”

He laughed. “My dear barista, you have much to learn during your stay here.”

The bartender finally addressed us with a jerk of his chin. “What’ll it be?”

“Porrima. Red. One for me, and one for the lady here.”

I rolled my eyes. “The ‘lady’ would like an ale, when you have time.”

The bartender inclined his head and left.

I put my back to the bar. Goddamn, this place was bustling! How the hell were we supposed to find one person within this crowd? I scanned the tavern, which was basked in lantern-light, hung in clusters that resembled less like chandeliers and more like jumbled scrap metal fused together, adorned with oil lamps that emitted a soft, orange glow.

I remembered the last show I’d attended at a dark, packed concert venue. The bar was back to back and the main floor was standing room only. Zach lost his glasses in the mosh pit and I had dragged his drunk ass to the merch booth, where a single shitty lamp could help me see the damage. He’d grinned a bloody-toothed smile at me and pushed my bangs out of my face—

“Zephyr! I think my purse got stolen!”

I jolted out of my reverie. “What? Felix, we only just got here.”

“I know, I know!” Felix glared at the crowd. “I’m sure it was the urchin we just passed. Do you see him?”

I scanned the crowd, before whipping my head back at Felix. “What the hell is an 'urchin?' in this context?”

Felix shot his finger into the crowd. “There! It’s him!”

I followed the line of his finger. It was easy to find the thief, because Felix’s loud voice had made the kid turn around. The young, dirty-faced youth that had shoved Felix’s shoulder, just a few minutes before. As soon as he realized he'd been made, he bolted.

“Hey!” I shoved through the crowd, knocking drinks out of patron’s hands. He was roadblocked just as much as I was, pushing through elbows and conversations. I reached out, shoving an elbow against a belly as I tried to barrel through with my minuscule mass. I snagged the boy’s clothes and fell, dragging his body down with me.

“Ack!" He yelped.

I dropped my elbow down on his face, hard. “Give back the money you stole!”

The boy held his hands up as he gurgled through a bloody nose, which allowed me grab them and pin above his head in one hand. I searched his pockets. My hand closed around a silken pouch full of jingling coins. I took a moment to sneer in the guy’s face. “Next time, don’t be be a sticky fingered asshole in front of me!”

I stood up, stuffing Felix’s coin purse into my bra, when I noticed all the hungry eyes around me.

I froze. Easily, two dozen men glowered at me, staring like prey that had foolishly wandered too close. The house was not in my favor.

A shimmer of pale lavender hair and bunny ears caught my attention. I did a double take, peering through the crowd, spying a pale girl hugging herself close. “Celena?”

She spun around, frantically searching for my voice. I saw her eyes, she wasn’t wearing her pink contacts anymore. They were blue now. “Zephyr? Is that you? Zephyr!”

“Hold on, I’m coming!” I shouted as I tried to punch through a gap in the crowd.

Someone grabbed me by the base of neck. I yelped, feeling my feet drag off of the ground. My toes scraped the the floor frantically. Sour breath huffed next to my ear. I gagged as a gravelly voice belched next to my ear. “We got ourselves a magpie.”

Gruff laughter resounded around me. I could hear Felix yell my name, but all I could focus on was the knife that appeared next to my belly. The man wielding it positioned himself in front of my face, my head still immobile. I reached for the hands that gripped me, scratching and pulling. “Let go of me!”

This guy had a craggy face like he’d left it out on in the hot sun for a week and put it back on. His dull eyes were glued onto me as his chapped mouth worked around a tongue that looked crusted with barnacles. “I’ve always wanted a pet bird. Ought to cut it’s wings off first!”

I felt real fear for the first time in my life. The rest of the world dimmed and fell quiet as the blood rushed through my ears. Was I going to die here?

The thing in my chest hummed to life, and for a moment I felt energy jolt through my body. A pooling sense of power filled my hands, but it felt like too much blood trapped under my skin—

Just as the bandit raised the blade from my stomach to over my head, a fist collided with his jaw. I dropped into a limp, gooey, shivering mess around my legs. The thug that had held me up was also groaning in pain, rolling somewhere behind me.

I looked up to see a man wearing a red jacket smirking down at me. The lanterns back-lit his silver hair in a warm, radiant halo, casting a blue shadow over his grinning face. His gold eyes shone in eerie, opaque disks, like a beast hunting in low light. I curled against myself, unable to look away.

He knelt down on a knee, still staring down at me, then beckoned with an open hand.

“Follow me if you want to live.”

Chapter 4

Those were cat ears, right?

I shuffled down a short set of stairs and into a long, narrow hall, coming to a stop against a row of large wood crates that clinked with packed bottles. Spare tables and chairs were stacked in one corner, near a rack that held numerous dusty jars of pickled vegetables. A few rats scampered away from the light behind me, squeezing through cracks in the floorboards.

The man that had rescued me stalked down the stairs after me, his long red jacket drifting behind him. His eyes flashed that opaque yellow feline glow in the dim light again, watching me with a toothy grin as the door swung shut behind him.

Darkness plunged around me. All I could hear was the muted clatter of furniture getting demolished. Anisa’s alarmed voice cut through a sudden silence, then a churlish voice shouted a word that sounded like “Knoight!”.

I withdrew into my corner, next to the wall and the wooden crate, the edge pressed into the middle of my back. I held a hand out to see if it would twinkle like when I was in transit to Astraea. Nothing, not even a flicker as I flexed my fingers in front of my nose. The feeling that had welled up in my palms had diluted to nothing more than tingles than made my skin on my palms itch. Is that what Anisa had been talking about, in her study? Magic?

I stretched my hand out to feel through the dark while my eyes adjusted. Oh, right! My flashlight—my ridiculously overpowered, 30,000 lumens flashlight that Dad gave to me for self defense! It was-- still attached to my backpack, back at the fortress. My heart fell into my stomach.

“Hm. They normally keep this place lit.”

The man spoke in a deep timbre, rasped with the faintest accent. A lantern on the wall glowed to life. A warm, sputtering flame illuminated his silvery-white hair, braided and tossed over one shoulder.

His presence was striking, taking up all the space that the light gave. Tall and lean under the showy red jacket that left his bare torso open on display. I couldn’t help but trace the angles of his stomach muscles with my eyes, lined with a few raised, smooth scars. I cursed the flush of heat that came to my cheeks. Was there something in the water around here that made people here absurdly attractive? And don’t even get me started on those ears.

“I gotta say, that was a messy little display you made of that cut-purse. You’re probably better off not participating upstairs.” He winked, crossing his arms as he stepped closer to me. The aura of confidence around him was undeniably alluring, focused on me with each swaggering step he took. “Why don’t we lie low here for a while, wait for things to calm down, yeah?”

A rumble of energy unfurled from the doorway with a loud thrum, rattling the roof. Dust flaked down from the walls around us, cobwebs detaching from the gritty walls. Felix must have been getting serious with the magic. Anisa hollered right before the shrill clang of metal against metal knocked something heavy against the door with a loud slam that made me jump.

His gold eyes glinted in the low light as he looked me over from my head to my boots and back up, tapping his finger against his lips. “Now, I’m just dying to know how a pretty little thing like you wound up in a place like this?”

Oof, even his voice was on another level, rich and deep and playful. I managed to find my own voice. “My name is Zephyr.”

“Zephyr. That’s pretty.” His mouth broke out into a cocky grin, running the tip of his tongue over the edges of his teeth, lingering on the tip of an elongated canine. His mouth was alluringly distracting. “You see something you like?”

Oh god, I was staring like an idiot. Be cool, act normal! I cleared my throat. “I was looking for someone, with my…uh.”

Huh. Could I call Felix and Anisa my friends? I couldn’t help but feel like little more like a burden, like a package delivered to the wrong doorstep. Which reminded me of Celena. “Oh! Did you see a girl up there? Short hair, super pale, cute pink outfit? I think she’s in trouble!”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “The only damsel in distress I had eyes on was you.”

I scrunched my face and shook my head. Whatever spell he’d had over me evaporated in an instant, and I saw him for what he was. A jock. “Don’t call me a damsel. I’ll just go find her myself.”

“Ah!” He shifted his weight to the side so that he blocked my path, pressing two fingers on my shoulder and pushing me back. “Look, that’s not a such a good idea right now.”

I whacked away his hand. “She’s alone and I need to find her.”

“If your friend is up there, how do you think you can help? You’d be getting yourself stuck in the middle of a fight without a weapon again.”

I planted my fists into my hips. “Well, I can’t just do nothing! And who do you think you are to try and stop me?”

He scrutinized me, the amusement melting away into something that looked annoyingly like pity. “You’ve got a lot of nerve for someone who could have died a few minutes ago.”

“I had it handled.” Total lie, but he didn’t know that. I think.

The grin came back. “Take this from a sell-sword, as someone who knows how to read a room. You definitely didn’t have anything handled except getting yourself into major trouble.”

That part was probably true, but my insides twisted with denial. “Don’t sell me so short, I have people waiting for me. And I don’t have time to waste bullshitting with you, whoever the hell you are.”

“Oh yeah?” He leaned into me, pushing the hair over my forehead across my face and around my ear with a calloused finger, letting it linger at the curve of my neck. I shook away from his touch, instead focusing on the smoothed scar running up the side of his face, towards the quirk of his mouth. A strand of his hair fell over and tickled my nose. He was so close to me that I could feel the warmth of his body radiating against me. His breath whispered against my cheek. “For what it’s worth, you can call me Sage.”

Sage!

He dragged the crook of his finger up my the length of my jaw, his eyes focused on my lips. “I could give you a lot more than just my name, if you ask nicely.”

I sputtered. “Y-you’re— I’ve been looking for you!”

He grinned. “My reputation precedes me, I see.”

“No, I mean—”

The door burst open, making me jump. It slammed against the wall as stilted stomps echoed before the door was kicked back shut. More thugs, I guessed.

Sage looked over his shoulder, then back at me apologetically. “Follow my lead. And please don’t take this the wrong way.”

He ducked and looped an arm around my the back of my thighs, lifting up and placing me up on the crate. I squawked, my heart thumping fast as I braced myself against his broad shoulders. “Whoawhoawhoa!”

“Shhh, just a second," He said with a careful frown, pressing a finger against my lips. "We just need to shake these losers. I promise you’ll be okay.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I hissed, intensely aware of how my knees bumped against either side of his hips. My heart thudded against my ribs. He leaned over me, propping an arm on the wall. My skin was on fire from the heat emanating from his bare skin.

It dawned on me how well his body hid me from sight. I couldn’t see who had entered, and they likely couldn’t see more than my shins. But, like, still…

A wolf whistle echoed in the long hall. Sage’s ears flattened, and he slid a dirty look over his shoulder.

“No wonder you’re holed up down here, you ol’ tomcat.” A brusque voice called out.

“Can’t you see I’m busy? Get lost, Syd.” Sage chuckled, shaking his head once as shot me a look that said, Can you believe this guy?

I heard the clunk of a half-filled bottled bounce off the the ground, fizzing over and spilling through the dry floorboards. “This Sunstone bitch up there’s tearing the place up. Get your tail over there and fight, will ya? Making us all look bad.”

Sage made an irritated tsking noise with the corner of his mouth. “Nah, you guys got it.”

The thug known as “Syd” snorted and spat something wet and heavy on the ground. “Figures. Once a deserter, always a deserter. Rumors were right all along.”

A low growl rumbled from Sage’s chest, deep like a beast prowling in a dark jungle. I gasped, pulling back as far as I could. Which wasn't far. His shoulders rolled in a constrained ripple. “Come over here and say that to my face.”

No! I mouthed in silent vehemence, thumping him on the shoulder. All other words jammed in my throat, however, when I saw a dark, arterial red glow flood Sage’s eyes. I blinked. No way, that was just a trick of the light. It had to be.

I peeked over Sage’s shoulder at the man by the door. Shit, it was the boulder-shaped thug who’d drawn a knife on me. Who called me a magpie, threatening to cut my 'wings' off. And he was grinning, lips shiny from the beer that dribbled down his chin. “Hit a nerve, did I? What are you going to do about it?”

Sage let out a snarl, all teeth and glowering, as he pushed away from me. I flinched. Cold filled the vacuum left from Sage's proximity. I’d never heard a noise like that come from a person before! His next words rumbled in his chest, filling my ears, as he took measured steps towards the thug, snapping his chin up. “How about I break your face? And watch you pick up what’s left of your teeth off the ground with broken fingers?”

Syd faltered, the smugness dissolving into a glimpse of disgust as he turned his shoulder towards the door, inching back up on the steps.

The moment held as the rumble in Sage’s chest subsided. Syd sucked on a tooth, affecting an air of indifference. “Worthless whore pup like you ought to stay in the dark. Be sendin’ your ol’ crew your regards.”

With that, he stomped back up the stairs, slamming the door shut behind him.

I finally let a breath loose I’d forgotten about.

Sage stretched his neck, popping a joint near his shoulders like he’d just wrapped up a good workout. He glanced back at me with jarring softness, his eyes back to gold. “How’re you holding up?”

His voice had returned to an amused nonchalance, but roughed around the edges like he’d been screaming. I gulped. “Just peachy.”

“Good. Sorry you had to see that. I know I can get a little…intense, sometimes.” He paced back towards me, settling against the wall but keeping a careful distance.

“So,” I said, squaring up my shoulders to shake the strangeness. “Does that kind of thing happen a lot?”

He jerked a thumb to the door. “The skirmishing? Usually keeps to the weekends. Why? You say that like you’ve never started a bar fight before.”

“I haven’t, actually.” Though that’s not what I was referring to.

He brightened. “You don’t say? Well, you gotta pop your cherry sometime. This calls for a celebration! I’ll buy you a drink after our friends finished up out there.”

“I didn’t start anything, though!” I protested.

“You mean you didn’t waltz into a scoundrel’s tavern and rough up some kid over loose pocket change?”

I tried not to squirm as I shrugged. “Well, of course it sounds bad when you put it like that. Besides, it probably did the kid some good. Builds character.”

He laughed, which helped relieve the lingering tension left in my spine. “I’ve heard that before, more than a few times.”

“Wasn’t part of the plan, to be honest.” I’d acted out of impulse, despite Anisa’s warning to not draw attention. Things got out of hand really fast, and if I was going to make it long enough to see my way back home, then I definitely needed to mind my behavior better.

“Hmph. You never answered my question. What exactly was your plan?”

“Finding you.” I said. “You’re Sage, right? I was told you were a former Starsworn that could help me find my way back home.”

He watched my face, inscrutably, his eyes dilating until they shone dark until he tsked. “Figures. Even after all this time, I’d recognize their bluster anywhere.”

“What? So…you know that they...”

“That you were here with Anisa and that little twerp, Felix? Of course! Reckoned I’d have crossed paths with another Starsworn again sooner or later. Congrats on making it in, by the way.”

“I’m no knight.” My voice wavered when I felt a particularly hard thrum in my chest, like breeze blowing over embers. I knew I couldn’t keep denying it. This world was becoming a part of me, and the Relic in my chest seemed to relish in acknowledgment. I wondered if the others felt their Relics the same way that I did, like something alive within their being. I shook my head. “How could you tell?”

Sage raised an eyebrow. “You know that you have the Starsworn emblem on your back, right?”

“Oh. Right.” I'd forgotten. The cut-out patch I’d sewn haphazardly onto my cosplay.

Sage stretched his arms over his head. “Man, it’s been a while since we’ve all come together. I bet Felix said something about ‘the stars aligning’ or some such. Not looking forward to getting a lecture though. Let’s go and get this over with.”

~*~

The door was jammed, so it took a few seconds to shove aside. Bodies carpeted the floor, in varying forms of consciousness. I kicked at someone that grabbed my at my boot, then immediately gagged when I saw the massive pool of of blood.

Sage glanced at me. “You good?”

“One second!” I said around the fist I pressed to my lips, my back pressed against the wall. I’d never seen so many people beaten and bloodied like this before. It's not like the movies made it out to be. I pressed my eyes shut for a few deep breaths before opening them again.

He sighed, stepping over the mess of bodies to take my hand. “Try not to think too hard about it. If it wasn’t them, it’d be you. Come on.”

“Okay.” I said vacantly, letting him lead me as I focused on the warmth of his hand around my fingers.

The bartender dragged a rag over the bar in his fist, completely unperturbed.

“Celena?” I called out. Where had she gone? Sticky, coagulating blood stuck under my boots, making disgusting squicking noises as I stepped around heaps of people. But none of them resembled her, though a lingering stench of sulphur tinged the air, leaving a bad taste in my mouth. “Hey, It’s me! Celena? Are you still here?”

All I got was a raised hand from a potbellied man in the far corner, drunkenly shouting. “I’ll be whoever you want!”

Great. I sighed heavily, giving the scene another scan. It looked like the aftermath of an epic frat party, but no sign of a girl in a pink frilly dress amongst the wreckage. I followed Sage as he expertly navigated the littered bodies until we came to the single table that had survived the fight. Felix and Anisa hovered near it.

Anisa was wiping her sword with a cloth when she looked up. Her eyes lit up for a moment, then narrowed. “Sage, you found Zephyr.”

I bumped into Sage’s back as he suddenly stopped, meeting Anisa’s glare. “More like she found me. Nice to see you too.”

“Those are new scars.” Anisa sheathed her sword, frowning as she strode over the limbs of a fallen thug with the grace of a dancer across a stage, looking at the expanse of Sage’s bare chest. “I suppose you’ve had plenty time to antagonize some new foes.”

He shrugged. “Not my fault if I can’t make everyone see my way.”

Anisa hummed. “Your way or no other way, I expect.”

Felix had downed his glass of wine, throwing me a wave that looked like a salute, but could have been swatting off a fly. “There she is! Zephyr lazool—hic!—la goozi, wait, no, la ferwens— ”

I couldn’t help but smile. “How did you get so drunk so fast?”

“Low blood sugar.” Anisa replied, as though it wasn’t the first time she’d had to explain. “He exhausted himself by opening an ‘abyssal trench’ on an empty stomach.”

“You did that even after all you did for that ritual, Felix?” I asked.

Felix squinted at me, leaning back so far he nearly slipped off of his chair. He grabbed the top of the backseat and reoriented himself. “I’m fiiine. Sit, sit! I’ll get us some more wine.” He let his head loll back and called out, shooting a peace sign into the air, “Two Porrima reds, please!”

The bartender rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath, but left and returned with a wine bottle and two fingerprint-stained wine glasses. He set them before Felix, who was busy picking at his black fingernail polish.

Sage extricated himself from Anisa’s scrutiny, grinning brightly as he slapped a hand on the table. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite pint-sized mage! C’mere you!”

Sage leaned over the table and caught Felix around the shoulders, rubbing his knuckles into the top of his head. “You’re looking hale and hardy! Haven’t grown an inch though, have ya?”

Even as the necromancer squawked and slurred threats of fire and brimstone, his words held no more venom than kids fighting over a game controller. Felix managed to shove Sage away, combing fingers through his dark hair back into place. “Yes, well—hic!—seeing you was certainly not my idea.”

“I missed you too, you little rascal.” Sage said, bopping Felix on the nose with his finger.

Anisa cleared her throat, which seemed to have an effect on the both of them. Felix leaned back in his chair, and Sage slipped into the nearest one. I pulled a chair off the ground, checking to see if it still had all it’s legs before sinking into it.

She shook her head. “Just look at us. The last of the Starsworn, gathered once again, amidst the aftermath of a fight that didn’t need to happen. Can we try to behave with some dignity?”

Felix blinked one eye at a time. “I lost my money.”

“Oh, right.” I dug the coin purse out of my bra and tossed it to Felix. He caught it like it was made of embers, blushing hard.

Sage only held up his hands in surrender before slouching and crossing his arms again, the tip of his tail flickering under the table. “Am I the only one that’s just happy to see all of us together again?”

“How can you say that when you’ve been gone for years?” Anisa hissed, her voice hemmed with hurt. “We were so worried—”

Sage scoffed. “We?”

“I was worried!”

“Try the wine, my dear barista.” Felix said, pushing his glass towards me.

I ignored it. “This is really cute and all,” I said, my voice cutting through the tension in the air as my knee bounced. “But why don’t we try to listen to what Anisa has to say?”

“Thank you, Zephyr.” Anisa said, clearing her throat. “Let me start this way: Felix, you never cease to astound me with the breadth of your magical ability—“

Felix’s ears turned red. “Oh, stahp, Annie—”

“—But you’ve let your feelings rule your magic, and let it run in circles around you. It’s left you spinning like a fool! Seriously, have you no shame? Look what your magic has done done! A living, breathing person is now burdened by the consequences of your actions!”

Felix dragged the wine glass back so he could sip on it. “I must apologize once again for what happened to you, Zephyr—“

“Did you ever, though?” I asked, leaning away. “Did you ever apologize for ‘what happened’? I’m pretty sure you happened, and I now I’m here because of it, surrounded by a bunch of people I don’t know, in a world I don’t belong in.”

“Of course I apologized! Don’t you remember?”

“No, you apologized for being a jerk and asking if I was lich. Not for bringing me to a different realm, or dimension, or whatever the fuck this place is.”

I shoved against the table to stand before he could protest again, leaning forward to force Felix into looking into my eyes. “You stole my life away by —no, look at me! You took something important away from me by doing your creepy ritual. I want my life back! And I want to know where my friend Celena is. So if you’re such a slick magician like you think you are, then you’d better fucking deliver me some results.”

I slumped backwards, clenching my teeth before I could say anything else. My eyes felt hot, so I grounded my teeth together to avoid the tears that threatened to run down my face.

“Sooo, what happened?” Sage asked as he stared at a divot on the table, scratching at his chin.

“Last call!” The bartender yelled, pulling bottles away.

“It’s better if we continue this conversation back in my office.” Anisa said. “The smell of this place is killing me.”

Felix quickly gulped down his glass of wine. “Ah, a change of scenery would certainly-hic!-help.”

“Agreed.” I said, scraping my chair away from the table. “We’ve got a lot of things to clear up.”

Notes:

Thanks for reading, you know I love you!

Chapter 5

Notes:

3/29/2024 I made a major edit to this chapter. I realized halfway through writing chapter 6 what was sitting so wrong. Why the hell would Sage, of all people, tell someone to put MORE clothes on? That whole scene was irking the hell out of me. Then I was angsting about going back to edit. I was like "Is it too late to fix it? Its been almost two months, its practically set in stone! What if the FicPolice busts through my door and throws me in FicJail, and then i have to go lift weights or whatever with all the other FicFelons and all the words of my failure are printed on my dumb face like a prison tatt?"
Anyway, I eventually pulled my head outta my ass and Shia Labeouf Just Did It. Sorry I was so slow on the uptake. I hope this reads better.

Nobody argues like family. While the last of the Starsworn Knights were clearly unrelated by blood, they fought with that special bond that made squabbles feel as dramatic as spitting blood.

Standing on the outskirts of this feud felt awfully voyeuristic. I floated to the edge of Anisa’s study to twiddle my thumbs, making a show of patiently studying the rug under my feet, while they made the furniture tremble. Anisa herself was on a warpath, shoving her finger into Sage’s face. “We counted you amongst the dead that day! If it wasn’t for idle chatter floating around the barracks about a plastered Ilephtan mercenary haunting the local dives, I’d never have thought I’d see you again.”

“Welp,” Sage threw up a sorry excuse for jazz hands in the air. “Surprise! Sorry to disappoint you, yet again.”

Felix perched on the armrest of Anisa’s impressive desk chair, rubbing at his forehead. Whether his headache was from the drinks he’d slugged down or from the circuitous arguments, I couldn’t tell. “Please, everyone stop shouting. For the love of gods, it’s been five years.”

“And I’ve been waiting five years to tell him off! Five years since he abandoned us on the battlefield!” Anisa swung back around to face Sage, who’d retreated behind the couch near the bookcases. I couldn’t blame him. This side of Anisa was a little scary, especially when she bared her tiny fangs to punctuate her words. “We lost everything, we barely got out with our lives, and five years later, after no contact whatsoever on your part, you have the audacity to say that you’ve missed us?”

Sage ground his teeth together, biting back against whatever he was thinking about saying. His tail lashed in steady drumbeats against the back of the couch. “Listen, I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“But you have with your inaction!”

“So is this the real reason you wanted to invite Sage to this party?” I asked quietly. All three of them snapped their attention towards me like they just remembered I was present. I tried not to squirm.

“Good question, ‘cause I’m really not feeling the love right now,” Sage drawled. “Could’ve just stabbed me in the heart and been done with it.”

“Don’t play the victim, Sage. Believe it or not, I mourned you after you left us all to pick up the pieces after the war.” Anisa turned her back to pace back around the splintered remains of her desk. “But Zephyr is right. We’re not here to discuss the events of the battle fought long ago. I lost myself. Forgive my lapse of focus.”

“Annie, we all have unresolved feelings here.” Felix said gently. “However, the matter at hand must prevail.”

“So then, what are we all doing here?” Sage hiked himself over the back of the couch to splay languidly across it. His armored right arm clanked as he settled. “Let’s make this quick. I’ve got places to be.”

“No, you don’t,” Felix scoffed, pushing away from the armchair. “Not that it matters. Allow me to demonstrate the issue in a way that even your fatuous mind can comprehend.”

He gestured towards me like an invitation to dance. The hairs on my skin raised as my heart thrummed rapidly in my chest, hard enough to make me gasp and double over. An ethereal glow emanated from the center of my chest, bright like the rays of fresh sunlight. “What’s going on?” I rasped in alarm, clutching at my chest.

“That,” Felix said. “Is a Relic. Let’s give a warm welcome to our newest Starsworn recruit.”

The light was warm to the touch, flooding through my body in a way that powered up my senses. My vision crisped up so that I could pick up the individual colors of each thread in the rug, each unique whorl in the hardwood planks. My clothes felt more substantial. The worn denim felt weathered smooth with the most miniscule threads brushed, and the riveted, tempered metal sections sang harmonious with my heartbeat like strikes to a tuning fork. I glanced up at the knights before me, finding similar glows coming from Felix and Anisa. Sage, however, appeared occluded. Instead of blossoming silken threads of light, he frazzled like slivered strobes shimmering through a mirage of oily sunspots.

“Well, let’s not have everyone leap up at once.” Felix muttered, dropping his hand. The light faded, and my vision and heart returned to it’s regularly scheduled program. Color leached out of the room, leaving me breathless and a bit forlorn at the loss of whatever the magic was that had overtaken me.

Anisa swallowed, her bright green eyes wide. “I thought all the other Relics died with it’s wielder.”

Felix cleared his throat against the back of his fist. “Yes, well, clearly we were wrong in thinking so. Furthermore, we don’t know how this development may impact any efforts to send Zephyr back to the world she belongs to.”

I straightened up and primly cleared my own throat. “We what?”

“It’s a matter beyond my abilities.” Felix explained with half shrug, rapt in plucking small hairs off of the sleeves of his shirt. “For all my wealth of knowledge of the arcane, the Relics behave by their own rules. Even if I could perform the exact spell to return you back, there’s no telling how your Relic will react. It could tear your soul asunder.”

“Well, it came to me while I was on Earth, so what’s the harm now?”

“That…certainly is unusual.” Felix admitted. “Never before has a Relic sought an individual outside of the confines of our realm.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Anisa bit her lip and stared down at her ruined desk before turning her back on us to look out the stained glass windows.

Sage huffed loudly. “So all we’ve come up with so far is that this is all Felix’s fault. What else is new?”

“Well, I don’t see you coming up with any brilliant solutions.”

“Why are we looking for solutions? From the sounds of things, it is what it is.” Sage spared me an apologetic glance. “Sorry, kid. Looks like you’re stuck here. Welcome to the family.”

“Wait, wait!” I said, spreading out my hands. “What about my friend? Celena is somewhere out here too! I saw her at the bar. She’s from my world too, and she definitely didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Mount a search party or whatever. I don’t need to be a part of this.” Sage hoisted himself up out of the couch, making a beeline for the door.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Sage.” Anisa said over her shoulder. “We have unfinished business.”

Sage waved her off. “It can wait ‘till morning.”

“Running away already?” Felix fixed Sage with a look of disgust. “Would a pouch of coins suffice to keep your attention long enough from your debauch pursuits?”

Sage’s hand dropped from the door handle, swiveling around on his heel in a leisurely spin that flung his braid off his shoulder. “Depends.”

Felix flung out his coin pouch, which Sage caught smoothly with his left hand. He bounced it in his palm, appraising the clinking with a twitch of his ears. “Hmm. You must feel pretty bad about all this.”

Felix waved him off. “’Tis but pocket change, you miserable oaf.”

“Spoken like a little rich boy.”

“Awfully picky for an over-sized wharf rat.”

“That’s enough!” Anisa declared by slapping her desk with both palms. The poor desk took it personally, giving up the strain on its legs until the whole thing crumpled a little bit further onto the ground with a pathetic creak. Anisa made a growling noise of displeasure in the back of her throat, balling up her fists. “Let me remind you all that we are connected by bonds that surpass ourselves as individuals. We must band together for the sake of our new recruit. Zephyr!”

I jumped. “What?”

“The Relic you bear indicates you as once of us, but we all must swear a new oath in light of the circumstances. Fate may bind us together, but it’s our chosen ties that truly unite us against the challenges we face.” Anisa scanned Felix and Sage from across the room with a determine look. “I cannot promise that the journey will be easy, but perhaps together we can find a way to change the current course of events. Together we can discover a path to send you back to your world. And find your lost friend. But you must work with us in this endeavor. Will you join our order?”

I hesitated. The burden of that request slanted way too heavily on a side I didn’t like being on. Truth be told, I’d be completely lost in this world without help, despite my my preexisting knowledge of the Last Legacy game. And that feeling of helplessness was like an angry rash spreading across my body. What if my ideals clashed with theirs? “If I join, what does that mean for me? What do I have to do?”

“You’ll devote yourself to the people. Starsworn defend against the the evils of shadow—”

“The likes of which have largely been eradicated!” Felix piped in.

Anisa briefly glanced at the ceiling and sighed. “Yes. Alas, we remain vigilant. In return, we’ll devote ourselves to training you to your full potential as a Starsworn Knight—”

“Wait, I didn’t say I would agree to—” Sage began.

Felix waved him off with flapping hands. “Not now!”

“—And help you cultivate your power so that we may aid you in your quest to return to your world. What say you?”

Anisa held out her hand. I held my breath. Last Legacy was a game I adored. And I could play better than most. The chance to actually live it out was…what was I supposed to say? A dream come true? Regardless, it was still a lot for me to process. But I was stuck here, for better or worse. I couldn’t give up my best chance at finding a way back home. I would not give up hope. Not for me, and not for finding Celena. Wherever she was.

I clasped hands with Anisa, feeling the warmth radiate from her firm grip. “If you promise to return me and Celena home, then yeah. I’ll join you.”

A brilliant smile spread across her face. “Excellent!”

“So the band’s back together again.” Sage smirked, dropping his chin down to his chest as he laughed. “All right, all right. Nice speech, Anisa. I’m interested enough to game.”

Felix scoffed with all the pomposity he could muster as he folded his arms, sardonically shaking his head at Sage. “And the world breathes a collective sigh of relief.”

“I'm pleased to have you in our ranks, Zephyr.” Anisa beamed, brushing her fluffy bangs aside. “Well, then. That settles it. The rest of you, get out of my office so we can all get some sleep. We’ll reconvene here tomorrow afternoon to continue this discussion.”

 

~*~

 

The hour was…late? So much so that it was likely to be very early, but for the life of me I could not stop my feet from bouncing. On Earth, the Con would have started to wrap up, and I’d be moseying around to scrounge up some dinner, or retreating to my hotel room. Maybe Celena and I would have hung out longer and spent some time chatting at a bar nearby. Easy stuff. I’d never know now.

I stared at my phone from under the generous pile of blankets on Anisa’s couch in the study, praying to the gods of Late Nights and Random Miracles. I pressed on the button on the side. A blinking thunderbolt flashed, making my heart plunge. I stashed it back safely into my backpack, pulling out a crinkled pamphlet. I smoothed it out over the armrest of the couch, behind my pillow. Already it it felt like it was from a lifetime ago. When all I had to worry about was getting in long lines and checking my social media and checking my inbox for a text from my ex. I sighed heavily as I traced the outline of the destroyed city behind the two titular characters depicted in the forefront. I recognized them now, having met them in real life. Is this what real life is for me now?

Anisa, for one, looked absolutely unhinged. Her face blazed in the maniacal fervor of battle. Nothing like the poised, disciplined knight that made such a point of respecting my situation as a total stranger in a foreign land. Even when her emotions got the better of her when confronting Sage, she'd never looked so ravenously hungry as she did in the picture.

Felix was portrayed with a twisted smile and eyes that glowed with the green glow of the flames erupting from his hands. He looked so much like Escell, indignant and ambitious and wracked with a sinister hate that was so difficult to harmonize with the young man who’d looked so heartbroken just a few hours ago. I knew he must be hiding a lot, but it wasn’t an easy matter of pulling it out of him. If his compatriots couldn’t, what hope did I have?

The monstrous creature hovering overhead, with lurid glimmering red eyes…that threw me for a loop. Was that the Lord of Shadows, returned from the dead? Or a new incarnation of his power? Whatever it was, it was devastatingly ominous.

The tag line beneath the art read: “A mysterious harbinger from afar opens the gates of calamity, spelling doom for the Starsworn.”

I stashed the pamphlet away in a flood of unease, kicking away at the blankets. The fire had settled into bright red coals, sending sleepy flames licking up the chimney. I’d ditched my boots and socks, as well as my heavy jacket and mail, but now I shivered in my leggings and loose white tank top. I paced the perimeter of the study just for something to do while my mind was so chock full of shit I didn’t want to deal with.

I perused the destroyed desk, flicking through boring letters written in various different languages until I found the postcards Anisa had shown me earlier. They were well-thumbed, tucked tidily in a sturdy, slender box lined with tissue. It might have originally housed a fancy pair of gloves or socks. The dolphin card was still placed on top. The way she got excited when talking about them...I replaced them where I found them in the single remaining functional drawer I’d found them in. I'd have to pick her brain out them later.

Next, I ran my hands across the walls of bookshelves, finding them pleasantly clean of dust. The books themselves were another thing all together. Though the spines read in a gamut of different languages, I noticed they were ordered by size. Every tier of the shelves were cascading in alternate slopes of books that ranged from the length of my forearm to the size of my thumb. There had to be a better logic system than that. Also what the hell was even in those tiny-ass Thumbelina books? I refused to believe that Anisa utilized these books regularly enough to abide with such a barbaric filing system. I’d worked with another manager at the cafe who insisted on arranging our hipster booky corner by color. Color! God, he was insufferable, always bringing up his art degree in between messing up his lattes with soy milk instead of rice—

A tiny click at the window snapped me out of my thoughts. I couldn’t see anything beyond the stained glass. The study was also sitting somewhere along the second floor of this keep, so there unless there was some nocturnal bird pecking at the glass...

I neared the windows and found a hinge to the one closest to the fireplace. I flicked the latch open, and had to shove my shoulder into pushing the heavy pane up.

Below, I saw a flash of silver and red beyond a short overhang. Sage waved up at me with a grin. “Saw your shadow. Whatcha up to?”

“Not much. It’s just hard to sleep.” I stage whispered, not wanting to draw too much late night attention. A fortress had to have guards doing rounds, right? And people had to sleep. Right?

He frowned, cupping a hand around a fluffy ear. “What?”

“I can’t sleep!” I hissed.

“What?”

“Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!”

“Hold on, I’m coming up.” He disappeared under the overhang, and after some scrabbling noises, his hand lurched up to haul the rest of himself over the ledge in an awkward, upward sprall.

I raised an eyebrow as he splayed out on his back. “I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s a front door to this place. Unless you’re just into dramatic entrances. I guess that’s cool too.”

“You’re one to talk,” Sage grumbled, affecting a slouch as he propped his chin on his palm, that he somehow made it work for himself. “From what I’ve heard, you swan dived out of your realm and landed in Astraea without a scratch?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes. That’s exactly what happened. Perfect landing, ten out of ten, all the disembodied spirits clapped for me.”

“Tch. Figures. You gonna let me in or what?”

I stepped aside from the window with a grand wave of my arm. “Be my guest.”

Sage slipped his legs first through the narrow gap, careful to keep his sword from clanking behind him. Just as his feet touched the floor, he swung his arms up over his head in a languorous stretch and an indulgent moan. I averted my eyes away from his exposed, lean physique. Seriously? I didn’t know they made guys this gorgeous outside of Hollywood. He relaxed and rolled his shoulders with a half yawn. “So, couldn’t sleep much?”

“Yeah.” I said, crossing my arms around myself. “Too much going on in my head. I can’t stop thinking about…well, everything.”

“Well, that’s no good.” He scrunched his face, as though the mere idea of a ceaseless swarm of thoughts offended him. “Guess that whole ‘pledging allegiance to the Starsworn’ earlier didn’t do a whole lot to put you at ease.”

“No, it did. A little. I’m really glad knowing I’m not alone in all this. It’s just a lot to take in.” I said, playing with my belt loop. “What about you? What are you doing skulking around here?”

“Bored.” He said simply, eyeing the shelves of books lining the walls as he took slow steps into the study. “So I took a walk.”

“Yeah? Just a late night stroll though a fortress?”

“Yeah. Used to get into all kinds of trouble, way back when we were stationed here. As Starsworn, I mean." He ran his fingers over the same set of books I'd been judging at just a few moments before. He pulled a couple out and turned them upside down before replacing them. "Felt like taking a jaunt through memory lane. Well, that and Felix hogs all the blankets.”

I blinked, then shrugged. "He looks like the type of guy that would."

He spun around to fix a mischievous look on me. “Did you know that this tower is full of all kinds of secret passages?”

I perked up. “Secrets?”

“Loads. Since you’re up anyway, care to check one or two out with me?”

“You wanna go sneak around a guarded tower in the middle of the night?”

He chuckled, his eyes glimmering in the dimming firelight. “Can you think of a better time for it?”

I grinned. “I’ll grab my shoes!”

I all but scrambled to shove my feet into my boots, stuffing the laces behind the worn tongue. The sight of my folded up jacket made my shoulders ache, so I left it draped over the back of a chair. I planted my fists into my hips. “So where are we going?”

“Not too far.” Sage palmed a small box and slipped it beneath his jacket, then brushed past me to a section of ornately carved oak bookshelves that lined the back wall, behind the couch. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Now, where was it?”

He rapped his knuckles against the splits between the shelves, then gripped the edge of a shelf as he pulled it out. I peered under his arms as the section of the shelves slid aside with just a slight wooden scrape against the hardwood floors. Some books toppled off the shelves as the space behind revealed a slim, hidden door inlaid against the wall behind the bookcase. A rectangular, hinged handle was set flush against the left side. Cool, musty air flowed through the gaps under and above the door.

“Oooh!”

Sage winked at me from over his shoulder. “Stick with me, you ain’t seen nothing yet. And try not to step on the tail.”

He yanked at the hinged handle, which creaked like something out of a haunted house as it swung out. I followed him through, pulling it shut behind me. Before us was a long hall, illuminated by flickering glass globes affixed to black iron-wrought sconces on the walls. I paused to examine one of them, finding tiny balls of flame spinning in perpetually oscillating circles. Strings of dusty cobwebs dangled from it, casting flickering shadows. How long had these been here? The magic of this world was endlessly fascinating. I had a lot to learn if I was to stick around.

“Through here,” Sage said, his voice echoing in the empty space. He slipped up a narrow set of stairs, taking three steps at a time. I followed at his heels, thankful for the magical globes that were spaced just far enough to overlap their spheres of light as we climbed.

The more we crept up, the thicker the cobwebs and dust permeated the cobblestones. Every step left an imprint in the dust, and Sage’s flicking tail kept brushing clouds of it into the air with every other step. My legs were starting to strain, and I had to pull the neckline of my tank up around my mouth and nose to keep from breathing the dust in.

“Are we almost there yet? I think I'm turning into rubber.”

“You’re gonna love this.” His eyes flashed opaque again in the dim light when he smirked over his shoulder at me. We’d reached another door at the top of the steps. He turned the knob, which stuck for a moment until he threw his shoulder into it. It swung open with a groaning stutter of rusted hinges, releasing a cascade of dust. I wafted it all away with my free hand, thankful for my general lack of allergies. Before us was a small chamber that swept a gust of fresh air across my face.

Shiny limestone walls reflected cool moonlight, making the cobwebs in the corners shimmer. I dropped my tank. “Where are we?”

“This used to be my favorite place to get away from it all.” Sage said, crossing through the chamber. “Nobody visits except to clean out all the bird nests.”

“Birds nests?” I hesitated. “Is this the bell tower?”

“Sure is. The view from up here is one of the best around these parts.” He beckoned me to follow, until he saw my expression. “You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?”

“Lets just say I’ve recently learned to respect the laws of physics the hard way.”

“Hmph. Well, don’t worry. There’s no pesky magicians up here. Present company excluded, ‘course.”

I chose to ignore that comment.

Rougher hewn stone speckled the limestone in places, becoming more and more prevalent until the polished rock gave way entirely to smooth granite. “Why does this area look so different from the rest of the tower?”

“War.” Sage said simply. “Mournfall took it the worst, and not a whole lot survived the onslaught. This fortress has a lot of battle scars. They rebuilt around what was left. Almost there.”

We turned a final corner and entered the bell tower proper. The bronze bell itself was shocking in its size. It was like stumbling upon a redwood trunk in a forest, stained deeply weathered brown and nearly encompassing my view. The sheer breadth of it stunned me. Various gores and furrows scarred the surface of the metal, and one side was conspicuously dented. It’d have to take several able-bodied people to ring this monstrosity without some kind of mechanical assistance, much less leave a permanent mark on it. I wondered if it’d survived the war, and had been returned to the reconstructed bell tower. As far as I knew, the Last Legacy game I played had taken place at least a couple decades before whatever events had happened here. I remembered passing through castles that had corners of catapults spaced out through the fortifications. What kind of army could compete to take down a tower like this? So much destruction…

The sides of the bell tower were open arched frames lined with simple parapets near the floors. In some places, I could find shards of the original limestone juxtaposed against the mortar that bound it with the newer granite.

Sage leaped out to the edge of one of the archways, placing a daring foot on the parapet before looking back at me wryly. "Dare to take a look?"

I was distinctly aware that he’d quickly found out how to get me to rise to a challenge. Whatever. My parents didn’t raise a quitter. “I swear to god, if you do that thing where you pretend to push me, I’ll—”

My voice stuck in my throat as the view beyond the archways filled my vision. The full moon shone spectacularly bright through thin, cottony stripes of clouds, so close I felt like I could reach out and touch it. Below, the world opened up to me. Clusters of distant lampposts twinkled along threads of roads that curled around a lake that reflected the moon in gentle ripples. Lights—there were more lights than I could have imagined for a ruined town like this. The reflections off of windows that flickered with warm hearths were almost familiar. Teeny tiny flecks of blue twinkled above the shores, swaying with the waves that pushed and pulled on the surf.

"Whatcha think?"

This is more than just a game, now. "It's incredible." I said, honestly. "It kind of reminds me of home."

Sage cocked his head at me. "In a good way?"

"Yeah. It’s so strange to be so far away. One of the nice things about living in a busy city is how lively everything is. It's got style and culture and pockets of history all over the place. There's secrets down every alley, underground speakeasies and pop up events. There's always something happening, from dawn to dusk and all the hours in between. During the summer, if you pay attention, you can feel the city breathing."

Sage raised an eyebrow, looking out at the scenery below us, then back to me as he jerked his thumb out at Mournfall. "You got all that from this? You ain't seen nothin’ yet. There's towns that put this little backwater dump to shame."

I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll have time to visit some of them.”

The night was relatively still, but errant breezes still swept through the open archways. I rubbed my arms, which were erupting in goosebumps.

"Cold?"

"'Lil bit." I admitted. I was beginning to miss my jacket, even with all metal pieces weighing it down.

He leaned towards me with a conspiratorially low whisper. "I can think of something we could do to warm us up."

Stupidly, the circumstances surrounding us became crystal clear. Alone, with a vaguely sketchy mercenary, on top of a tower, in the wee hours of night. Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all. Maybe I should have stayed in bed. I laughed awkwardly. "I...don't know you like that."

"Oh, I think we'll know each other a lot better afterwards, I promise."

I took a step back, wondering if I could take the express line down the thick rope attached to the bell. Sage reached inside his long coat and pulled out a rectangular box. It was the one he swiped from the bookshelf. “You play?”

I gasp out a laugh in earnest. "Cards? You meant playing cards?"

"Yeah. To keep your mind off of things, chat a little. Why, what were you thinking?"

Nothing good, apparently. “You know how to play 'War'?”

We settled down cross-legged on opposite sides of the archway as I ran him through the rules. Thankfully the deck was mostly identical to a regular set of playing cards, though the royals were a mix of monsters that he had to explain the hierarchy of.

“What do I get if I win?” He asked as I dealt out our hands.

I shrug. “I’m not exactly strapped with piles of cash. How about … winner gets to ask a question, and the other has to give an honest answer?”

Sage made a face as if he wasn’t terribly impressed with my suggestion, but motioned for me to continue. “All right, lets play.”

The first round went unsurprisingly in my favor, but to his credit, he was fast on the pick up near the end. I decided to go easy on him. “How did you know there was a secret passage in Anisa’s office? Does she know about it too?"

Sage snorted as he collected the cards. “Doubt it. Anisa’s all … proper. Not much for skulking dark halls at night. But me? I’ve just got a knack for finding secrets.” He sets the cards down for me to deal again and stretched his arms behind his head with an unabashed smirk, clearly pleased with himself. “Back when we were posted here… well, lets just say I liked being able to come and go unseen. It was pretty nice having someplace private to drink, or play cards, or uh…meet people after hours.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised.” I said, smiling good-naturedly. He did a funny little half bow for my benefit. I laid out our cards, and this time Sage kept up pace with me until we both got stuck and had to flip over cards to the center pile. He beat me with only a few seconds to spare.

I applauded mildly like I was at a golf tournament. “Not bad for a newbie.”

He folded his arms, studying me for a moment while I laid the game back out. "So if you were back home on Earth right now, what would you be doing?"

"Hmm." I thought about it as I chewed on my bottom lip. "Well, it's the weekend. So there's lots of different things to choose from. At this hour? Probably hanging out late at a bar with some friends."

Sage grinned. "Oh, now we're talking! What are the bars like on Earth?"

"Well, I can narrow it down to what I know about the ones in my corner of the world. The fancier ones, in my opinion, are overrated."

"Well, yeah." Sage said, as if it were an obvious fact that spanned across the dimensions. He ticked off reason on his fingers. "They're always too quiet or too loud in all the wrong ways, the drinks are too expensive, and they're full of rich snobs that are too good to be seen around you."

I laughed. "That's it exactly! The good ones are the weird, hole-in-the-wall places with wobbly tables and greasy food, crooked darts--"

"Classic."

"What else? Pinball, board games, photo booths, loud music—Oh, and Karaoke! I love karaoke nights! I do a killer “Since U Been Gone”, I'll have to show you sometime."

Sage was nodding along, frowning at the unfamiliar words but following the gist anyway. "Is that like a game, or a competition?"

I snickered. "It can be, for some. My mom and I get pretty competitive around the holidays, but in the end it's just singing your favorite songs at each other."

Sage threw his head back and laughed. It was a full, throaty sound that spread out like wildfire, and I found myself grinning too. "Competitive singing? That's brilliant! I can't believe that isn’t a common thing here."

I leaned forward over my legs. "We'll start a trend. Pick a city and we can pub crawl our way through it and spread a new singing tradition."

Sage yanked the glove off his left hand and extended it out to me. "Deal!"

I took it and shook hard with enthusiasm. "Deal!"

His hand was calloused against mine, and so warm. I found out that the chill had, in fact, evaporated around our easy banter. I hadn’t felt this relaxed in the week since Zach dumped me. A sick little slither of heartache wormed it’s way through my good mood. I retracted my hand, redirecting my attention to the cards between us.

“What is it?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. It’s stupid. Another round?”

Sage blinked slowly, his slivered golden cat eyes fixed on my face. “What were you just thinking about?”

I hope I didn’t show my embarrassment. “Win the next round and find out.”

We played. I lost pathetically. My mind kept drifting to my dead phone, and how it was still packed full of old photos I’d taken of me and Zach together, and that I hadn’t had the heart to erase them all. Sage waited for me to start talking. I sighed heavily, looking back out to the lake, smooth as a mirror for the moon to bask over. “I was just thinking about things I left unfinished. Back home.”

Soon my vacation would run up. I wouldn’t show up to work. Melissa, the cafe owner, would surely wonder where the hell I was when I failed to show up to open the shop after my vacation was up. That triggered a detail that made me gasped in alarm. “Oh shit!”

Sage snapped his gaze to me. “What?”

The realization struck me with a bolt of anxiety. I dropped my face into my hands and whined. “Dammit!”

“What’s wrong?”

As someone who normally does not have her all of her shit together, despite itineraries and schedules, I pride myself at how reliable and capable I am at my job. I was always taken seriously. The people I worked with would get worried at my absence and call my emergency contact. Since my parents lived too far away from me to be very helpful in the very odd event that I missed work without notice, I’d put down the number of the guy I’d been living with for nearly a year. And I’d forgotten to delete Zach as my contact before leaving on my trip.

“Are you okay?” Sage asked slowly.

I nodded without lifting my head. Melissa would call him, which he would ignore and let it go to voice message. Then he’d call—no, he would probably text my parents about my absence at work. Just like he texted me about how he wanted to see other people. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

“Hey, come back.” Sage said, reaching over to tap on my head in a triple thunk of his index finger. “What’s going on in there?”

“Ugh, nothing good.” I sighed, scrubbing my face and looking back out at Mournfall.

“You look like your dog just died.”

I smirked. “I’m more of a cat person.”

“Lucky me.” Sage cocked his head, grinning crookedly.

“Only if you play your cards right.” I said with a glum grin. I realized the double entendre almost as quick as he did.

“I’ll be on my toes from now on then.” He picked up his hand, looking back up to me from under his lashes. “Don’t worry so much. We’ll get you back.”

“To what?” I muttered bitterly, then bit my lip. “Sorry. I appreciate what you’re trying to say. It’s just…My whole life has been upended. Whether or not I’ll see my family and friends again is up in the air due to the whims of a self-proclaimed necromancer, and I’m nowhere near finding a way to get in touch with the only other person who I know, for a fact, I saw at that skeezy dive bar that I could have died in earlier today.”

“The Saucy Gull.”

“Whatever. All this feels like an extremely vivid dream I can't escape. But I know I saw her, I made eye contact with her for just a second. Then, well, you know. Things happened, and then she was gone.” I breathed deeply of the clear night air. “I really hope she’s okay.”

Sage nodded. “Celena, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. I thought I saw a pretty Ilephta in pink right before you made a scene.”

I perked up. “So you saw her too! She had these fake bunny ears as part of her cosplay, frilly pink dress? Where did you see her go?”

Sage shrugged apologetically. “Dunno. I got distracted.”

I closed my eyes, pushing down the frustration in my chest through sheer force of will. “Well, at least I know that I didn’t hallucinate her.”

“You’re really hard-pressed about finding her.”

“Of course I am!” I said indignantly.

“Why? Was she close to you?”

“I…” I hesitated. Aside from some bullshit parasocial relationship I had formed through some online interaction, and the brief in-person chemistry, I didn’t really have a clue about who Celena actually was as a person. “I don't actually have a good reason. Maybe I just want to believe that there’s someone out there in the universe who would do the same for me.”

He blinked very slowly, the hair framing his face stirring in a soft breeze. “Is there?”

“I don’t know.” I admitted. My parents would eventually find out I was missing and mount a search. But not for three more days, if time here correlated the same way as Earth. For the next few days, nobody on Earth would realize I'd be gone. I shivered. “Regardless, I’ll figure this shit out.”

Sage shrugged, more like in lack of anything better to say. “Hope you do.”

I desperately did too.

Notes:

Ayoooo! What's poppin'? It's ya girl, MOTK, coming back 'atcha with the next chapter in my super self-indulgent Last Lecacy fic!

I was low key worried that this chapter would never get posted. The new year hit me HARD. Holidays and work had me pretty booked as it is, then everyone got sick and I had to pull some extra shifts with some bonus events I volunteered to work though on my usual days off. I also got my kitten neutered, and by god, he was an ornery bastard while wearing a cone. MINOR PET TRIGGER WARNING; That was a rather stressful week when he left bloody butt prints all over my floors and I was ultra paranoid he'd die or explode or call CPS on me if I closed my eyes to sleep. It was my first time dealing with anything like that. He's perfectly healed and doing wonderful now. He's a very spoiled tabby with strong emo-energy and a sick tattoo on his belly that makes all the vets swoon.

TLDR; I've got a bunch of shit going on IRL, but my favorite hobby and way to unwind after dealing with stuff is writing, and I am in no way ever gonna stop this fic until a lightning bolt darts down from the heavens to smack me upside the head and says, "Stop it!". Imma keep updating until I'm dead, even if it takes me a while to update.

Much love to everyone who's read so far. Don't be afraid to comment on anything, I'm super open to most everything and I'm still learning to do a better job at posting my writing. DFILY!

Chapter 6

Notes:

I made some big changes to chapter 5. Things were just not sitting right, and it prevented me from moving on and posting this chapter sooner. Check it out for more details. I appreciate all of you for reading this far. Much love!

 

“Let us take a moment to review what we’ve discussed in our lessons thus far.” Felix said, perching his half-moon glasses on the edge of his nose as he lightly cleared his throat. “Magic operates around a simple, fundamental principle: Intention is the foundation that power is built upon. At it’s core, any magical endeavor is the manipulation of energy and matter through focused intention and direction. We may study this by viewing spells and enchantments as functions within a mathematic context. Spells have specific inputs — such as incantations, rituals, glyph work—the sum of which ideally yield the desired outputs, whether you are crafting potions or healing an injury. Our goal here is to comprehend the underlying rules and patterns governing these transformations — are you still following, my dear barista?”

I quashed a massive yawn into the inside of my elbow and resumed writing notes in my sketchbook. “You lost me a bit with all the math parts.”

Felix halted his pacing and stared as though I’d just drooled on my shirt. To be fair, that was probably not what you’re supposed to say to an instructor who is on day three of explaining how magic is basically calculus. “My apologies if the study of the arcane bores you. I’m only sharing my life’s work and expertise on the subject.”

From behind the array of books floating midair in a semicircle around him, he affected a dignified, if offended, posture. Not to say that Felix was one of those boring teachers that students use as an extra nap period. His lectures shifted between chalky recitals of ancient text, to surprisingly fiery rants that branched from obscure tangents to bizarre anecdotes that were nearly impossible to follow, but I’ll be damned if I wasn’t hanging on the edge of my seat when those moments bubbled out of him. It was more like I’d entered the wrong classroom mid-semester and my textbooks were written in latin. Playing Last Legacy, it was just a matter of performing some side quests, earn enough experience points, then allot some skill points wherever I wanted. I didn’t have to internalize it.

Still, I should apologize. “It’s not that I don’t want to learn, I really do! It’s just…when do I get to shoot lightning bolts from my eyeballs?”

He clicked his tongue, confirming the critical hit I’d landed on his ego by clapping two of the heavier floating books shut and magically casting them away to sit on the edge if my little table. “That’s all anyone ever cares about. Unfortunately for you, my dear barista, you must learn to walk before you learn to, ah, shoot lightning bolts. Perhaps once our preliminary curriculum concludes, we can discuss a rejuvenating day-trip to Mournfall’s public magical archives? The librarians so enjoy seeing new faces, they hardly ever get out anymore. How’s that for a fresh perspective, eh?”

Nothing screams ‘study break’ like a field trip to a monument of study, except quieter.

Felix frowned over his books. “What was that?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”

This little classroom took place on an overcast afternoon in the courtyard within the Mournfall tower. We occupied the squat gazebo situated in it’s center, decorated with ivy, curling white paint and a few artful splatters of bird poop. The wet blanket of silence did nothing to dispel the haunted neglect pervading the rest of the outpost. The stale air hung heavier in some places, and sound traveled weirdly over the pockmarked granite foundation. Uncanniness pervaded the stoniness, sort of like those Doom Towns in Nevada used to test the effects of large scale bombs. Except instead of fake houses, pointed arched stone windows led to reconstructed hallways and doorways, set strategically around steep gray walls. And instead of eerie mannequins, stoic knights clad in steel and brick-red armor marched through bare halls. And the ‘bomb’ had already blown up five years ago.

“Well now,” Felix said as he readjusted the slim glasses on his nose, fanning through some pages on the floating books with an idle flick of his fingers. “Do try to keep up, this next part might be of interest.”

“Mhmm.” I clicked the top of my pen more times than necessary.

He steepled his fingers together, fixing me with his pale eyes. “Consider the idea that the specific ingredients of a potion, or the meticulous steps of a ritual, are not significant by themselves. The potency of a spell does not simply hinge upon the inert components used, but rather upon the intentional energy infused within the components. Derived through nature or forced application. For example, take a simple distillation liquid. You’ll net vastly different results collecting the fresh morning dew off new grass during the Spring Equinox than you would from pouring the run off of a bar mat into a cup. Mark that. The core principle lies in the correlation between intention and power.”

I scribbled an arrowed line between intention and power, then fancy water > sad-man’s booze. Then I leaned my chair back on two legs and resumed doodling a pile of cats at the bottom corner of the page.

Felix continued. “It is imperative to measure and quantify a spell’s effectiveness prior to utilizing it, regardless of application. The old chestnut, ‘too much of a good thing’ is especially true here. Mark this down: Misuse of exploitative, excess of power can lead to magical malignancy, or more commonly known as ‘corruption’. This is particularly true when the vessel is frequently strained to it’s limits. In severe cases, improper calculations can result in castastrophic disasters, often fatal to all trapped within it’s vicinity, denoting it a highly illegal if not fascinating sect of — Zephyr, why aren’t you writing?”

I squinted at the scratched graffiti on the underside of the gazebo’s roof. “That’s a typo, right?”

Felix craned his head to match my gaze, removing his granny-glasses from his nose.

GRIEFERZ? Wow, and is that a pair of boobs?

“Stars above.” Felix muttered, shaking his head.

Snorting, I dropped my chair back down on four legs. “Tell me about it. I thought a ‘griefer’ meant something kinda dumb where I’m from. An ancient gaming term.”

If that term was still alive, it’d be old enough to drink.

I chuckled. “If it were alive, it’d be old enough t—”

I twisted in my chair to glare over my shoulder. Just an empty courtyard. Huh.

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Is something the matter?”

I shook my head, blinking. “Nothing. What were you saying?”

“Ah-ah-hem… harnessing the precise amount of power for the circumstance, yes, yes, we’ve covered this all ready… Ah, here we are. Ley lines, shrines, celestial phenomena, or locations of great significance—such as a battlefield, where the veils between realms are worn thin—these are all perfectly acceptable magical wellsprings to conduct rituals of great importance, such as court hearings, or marriage ceremonies, etcetera. Then there are other, more pliable fonts that serve as reservoirs of unfathomable power, untapped by conventional means.

“However, the acquisition of this formidable power necessitates an important transaction—a pact forged through sacrifice or offering. Now, I know what you’re thinking, and yes, we were just discussing corruption. But for now let us dispel the misconception that such acts are inherently malevolent. Rather, these reservoirs represent a portable magical allowance, through which practitioners gain access to vast amounts of energy in a safer, more distanced manner. Thus, the practitioner's willingness to make sacrifices or offerings becomes an integral component of their journey into the depths of all magic. The infamy surrounding the topic is largely inflated due to fear-mongering. Nonetheless, it remains a realm truly fraught with peril and tantalizing promise alike.”

I raised my hand. Felix hesitated, a little exasperatedly so, before calling on me. “Yes?”

“Are you gonna teach me how strike deals with demons? Because my parents said I’m not supposed to talk to demons.”

I could tell by his face that Felix had Just About Had It with me. After a quick scan for any knightly eavesdroppers, he snapped his fingers with a few sparks of green flame, and all of the books clapped shut in sequential order. I sank a few inches deeper into my chair, pulling my sketchbook around me.

Come to the dark side, all the cool magicians are doing it.

I snorted into my notes. “I’m pretty sure this is what all those D.A.R.E. assemblies in the school gyms were all about.”

“Do I even want to know what that means?” Felix asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I gave him a lame half-shrug. “Just talking to the voice in my head.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, and for wild moment I wondered if he would try to perform an exorcism on me. He could certainly try, though after a few of these lectures, I was much less certain I could take him on in a fight than I was a few days ago. Instead, he spoke quietly. “So, you have been hearing it as well?”

I blinked. “The voice? Well, yeah. I thought you said we could hear spirits.”

“Yes. It’s not unusual to find so many here, of all places. However, in normal circumstances, the spirits can only repeat the last few moments before their death. Only swan songs... but this one has remained persistent. I believe it still claims some sentience.”

Ugh, finally! I’ve been trying to get your attention for—

We both jumped when the voice ended in a shriek that made both of us flinch. “What the hell?”

“There!” Felix jabbed his finger an inch past my nose.

A tiny ball of iridescent light tumbled down over the edge of the gazebo roof. Before either of us could react, it rebounded off the cobblestones and erratically bobbled away through the courtyard, nearly lost against the colorless gray.

“Quickly, before we lose it!” Felix leap down the steps and ran across the courtyard after it, his loafers making squeaking sounds. The books all clattered down onto the ground as the magic holding them up broke.

“Wha—wait!” I stood up, sending my chair backwards as I vaulted over the edge of the gazebo banister and scrambled after him. He had a head start, but I was faster and quickly caught up with him just as a group of idle knights near the barracks blocked our way. Felix slipped through them like an eel, without so much as a backward glance. I burst through the group of them, all elbows knocking against their armor.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” I yelled over their protests.

The tiny mote of light dashed to the left at a junction, disappearing within the dusty halls of the keep. Felix stumbled over a furl in the carpet, then bolted around a corner and down the hall after the faint trail of light. I leaped over the carpet trap, but miscalculated my momentum and ran into a pillar at the end of the wall that held a decorative vase. It shattered as I collided into it, spilling ceramic shards and water down the wall. I shuddered off the impact and ran after Felix.

There’s no time to explain!

“What?” I gasped as I ran. The light froze at the end of the hall, almost invisible against the light shining through a window. Another strangled scream pierced though my brain. I fell to my feet, tumbling against the carpet, grasping at my ears. The sound echoed in my head until the smell of phosphorus overtook my nostrils, making me sneeze uncontrollably. The light fizzled bright, like it was reacting to an acid.

Felix clapped his sleeve over his face, spreading his palm in the air as he closed his eyes. My ears popped as the air around us deadened for a moment that was as still as the emptiness of space between stars. It held tight, and I couldn’t release the air in my lungs if I wanted to. Then, like an exhale, the spell released, dispersing the miasma surrounding us. Sound returned to my senses with the rush of a cleansing field of ozone, and I could hear the chirps of birds spilling through the open arched windows again.

Felix seized my shoulders. “Zephyr! Are you well?”

I nodded as I breathed deeply. There was no trace of the spirit in my head anymore. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. Something has tried to banish the spirit, just as it was trying to make contact with the living. But… I sense it is still near. Where, however, I cannot say.”

I coughed hard before shaking my head. “Are you sure that was just a spirit?”

Felix gave the barest back and forth of his head, staring ahead at something I couldn’t see. “No. Though the energies around us feel pacified, yet we should keep our wits about for any further disturbances.”

I scratched at my scalp and scrunching my nose. “What the hell was that smell? If hell has a smell, I think that would be it. That’s not just a by-product of your magic, is it?”

He placed a hand to his heart and scoffed. “I’m offended you would assume such a thing! But… I do recognize it. It’s what happens when a door between worlds opens and shuts, a kind of dark teleportation magic.”

It was that same smell from when I arrived in Astraea. Like pungent burning. What were the odds of stumbling across that again? Could the thing that wanted to hunt this spirit have followed me to Mournfall keep? I sighed heavily, leaning back on my heels and rising. “I can’t believe we got crop dusted by some phantom.”

“We may be fortunate that was the only insult we suffered. Come now, we’ll take a short recess and return to your lessons.”

“Felix, are we haunted?”

He surprised me with a short laugh. “Most certainly, my dear Zephyr. We have been since the start of our journey together. Do try to keep up.”

I hung back a few steps, weighing the information. So, we were being haunted by two spirits. Could one of them be the one that Felix had intended to summon? And, possibly more importantly, what the hell had spooked it?

I glanced through the arched windows, down where a trail snakes from the main dining hall to dense woods. A flash of blue and red caught my eye. I reach out to tug on Felix’s coat sleeve. “Look! It’s the others!”

Anisa and Sage appeared locked in a discussion near the path. Sage slouched on a boulder, elbows propped on his knees while he thumped the cuff on his tail on a tuft of grass. Anisa was pacing in front of him, as though she were lambasting a new recruit.

“We should go tell them what just happened.” I raced on ahead of Felix.

“But, our belongings out in the courtyard—“

Ignoring him, I made a beeline for the dining hall as excitement bubbled in my chest. I hadn’t seen either of them since my first day here. And I knew a side quest when
I saw it.

I halted my running steps when I saw Anisa and Sage wrap up their talk with an embrace. Whatever I was stumbling upon, it looked personal. Maybe not the kind of thing to run headlong into. Felix caught up behind me with loud, heaving steps, and leaning down on his knees. I forgot that performing magic took a lot of energy out of a person. Damn, I really was being a bad student.

Felix smacked his knees as he stood up. “I hope we’re not interrupting.”

Sage took the opportunity to lift Anisa off her feet and swing her around in a circle, making her squeak before setting her back down on her feet. He grinned broadly. “Felix! Almost didn’t see you there!”

“That does not get funnier the more times you say that.”

“Zephyr!” Anisa called out to me. She was brushing her skirts down, her cheeks tinged rosy. A good spin off your toes does that to a person, no matter how tall you are. “I’m glad to see you! I hope Felix has been treating you well.”

“Oh, it’s been great.” I shrugged. “We’ve studied the fundamentals of magic and… yep, that’s it.”

“I see. Well, one must learn to walk before—”

“Before we get side-tracked, there’s something we ought to discuss. Zephyr and I have made a discovery: A rogue spirit is on the loose in Mournfall.” Felix declared, spine straight and affecting the same pomposity he held during his lectures. I nearly did a double-take. Sometimes he managed to slip into a facsimile of Escell. That line was almost straight from the game, whenever I placed Escell in the party. I’ve mockingly mouthed the smug phrase “Ah, I’ve made a discovery!” a hundred times whenever he’d reveal an illusion or magically-warded treasure chest.

Anisa arched her brow. “A spirit?”

“Is that what you two crazy kids were chasing through the halls?” Sage asked, looking back and forth between us.

“Oh, you saw that?” I started, picking at my fingernails. Damn, I hope we didn’t look too ridiculous. How hard had I hit the wall when taking that corner too fast?

He shrugged. “Thought you two were just real serious about chasing butterflies.”

I looked at Anisa, but she was pretending to pick lint off her gloves to mask a quiver of a smile.

Felix ah-ah-hemed, clearly trying to wrangle the conversation back on course. “We have reason to believe that this spirit still retains a semblance of itself. Highly unusual in and of itself. However, upon pursuit it appeared as though it may have been attacked by some unseen predator. If anyone encounters this roaming soul, please report it to me immediately.”

“Why doncha just ask your Relic? There’s gotta be something useful in all those pages.”

Felix threw Sage a look of thinly veiled contempt. “Do you make a habit of harassing Zenith with inane questions? I can’t simply ask Elegy why there’s a random spirit roaming my general vicinity. It’s like asking a god why there are fish in a pond.”

Sage tsked with the corner of his mouth as he shook his head. “And you still like to act like know everything. What a scam.”

“Anyways,” Anisa interrupted. “We’ll keep a look out for anything out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, Sage and I were just burying an old hatchet. If we’re to reunite the Starsworn, we ought to do it right. Zephyr, would you join me in the training hall? I have some time before my duties will take me away again.”

“Oh hell yeah!” I cheered, before Felix could butt in. I winked at him in consolation. “We can get down and dirty with the magic logistics later, I promise.”

He threw up his hands and skulked off. “Very well! I’ll collect our belongings.”

“I’ll meet you there, Zephyr.” Anisa smiled brightly at me, grasping my shoulder warmly as she marched off towards the keep.

That left me and Sage alone with each other. I hadn’t spoken to him since the night at the tower. I fidgeted with my thumb. “So, how’ve you bee—”

“Listen, I can’t stick around.” Sage interrupted, affecting a devil-may-care smirk. “Gotta go see about a pretty girl in town, if ‘ya catch my drift.”

“Oh, cool.” I said, conforming my facial expressions to hide my disappointment. “Cool. Cool cool cool. Yeah, me too. Sort of. Not the way you meant it, though. Just that Anisa was like… yeah. So, um…”

Sage blinked slowly, then reached out to brush a length of my hair off my shoulder. His eyes roamed down my body, and I was about to smack his hand away before he spoke. “New threads, huh?”

“Oh.” I looked down at myself, as if for the first time. Anisa had loaned me a mish-mash of spare squire garb. The bulky squire pants bunched around my knees and hung lower on my hips than I’d like, despite the belt that I’d secured on the tightest loop. My shirt was a layered, washed-out tunic sort of thing, tucked into the front of my belt. “Yeah, just trying to fit in. What do you think?”

Sage crossed his arms, examining me with a wrinkle in his nose, then shook his head. “Just makes you look...kinda lost.”

Lost? Lost? I bit my lip hard enough to hurt. I glared at Sage. “I’m not lost.”

He tilted his head to the side as he started walking backwards. “If you say so. Maybe you'll grow into it. Catch ya later.”

I scoffed, watching him leave. “Yeah, all right. Later!”

That was...lame. I guess I'd expected something...nicer? Technically, people back home will have started to notice that I'd gone AWOL. I should have shown up to work by now, so in a way I guess he's not totally wrong. But I didn't think he'd dismiss me like that, after the night in the bell tower. I'd been looking forward to--wait, was he calling me a poser? I looked down at my ill-fitting, borrowed clothes. I mean, I guess I kind of looked like a kid playing dress up, but I'd been a Last Legacy fan since the beginning! Just cause I'm new in town doesn't mean--Ugh, why did I even care what he thinks!

“I’m not some poser.” I muttered to no one and stormed off through the dining hall. What does he know? I knew this game like the back of my hand. In fact, I was really glad I was going to meet with Anisa in the training hall. I'd had enough of sitting around listening to magic theory. Right now I wanted to hit something. It about time I learn how to fight.

Chapter 7

I’d marched through the keep’s halls for a solid ten minutes before I hedged my pride and stopped to ask for directions to the training hall. A pair of knights, each wearing the amber and burned sienna Sunstone raiment, relaxed around an arched window. I assumed this junction passed for a water cooler in the break room around these parts, so I approached them.

I cleared my throat. “Hey, sorry to bother you. I’m supposed to meet the Knight Lieutenant in the training hall. Can you point the way for me?”

The two knights stopped their conversation, looking down at me and my washed-out squire clothes. I pressed my lips together in a tight line as I stood at my full height, which still barely cleared their metal shoulder pauldrons. The one closest to me, a tawny-haired youth with twisting, lyre-shaped horns curling around his head, grinned with twin dimples. I spent a moment wondering how the hell he got his shirt on every day while he scanned me through a veneer of condescension. “First day orientation, huh? Didn’t know the Lieutenant was still doing those.”

They both snickered, and something about it felt like they were in on a joke I wasn’t aware of. My temper simmered on the back-burner. “What is that supposed to mean?”

The other knight, marginally taller and with yellow hair slicked back with enough gel that it probably crunched whenever she put on her helmet, clacked the back of her gauntlet against her fellow knight’s chest. “Remember when Vega put her in charge of this dump? Anka couldn’t even deliver her speech straight. Thought she’d pass out in front of us all.”

The curly-haired youth snorted. “Talk about favoritism, am I right?”

My hands curled into fists, heat rising to my face as they laughed again, but my voice was cold. “Do you guys have a problem with Anisa?”

He gave me a look that I recognized from the other manager at the coffee shop I used to work at. Fucking Jared. That jackoff had pepto-bismol hair and used to wear a pinched expression that he thought would me feel small and dumb, something like pity and derision, and I hated seeing that here. “Don’t worry. You will find out really quickly how things run here.”

I scoffed, my nose crinkling. “You two think you could do any better? Or do you just cope with your inadequacies by talking shit when your betters aren’t around to put you in your place?”

They both stared at me in disbelief. Curly narrowed his eyes, detaching from the wall as he squared up with me, bumping his plate mail up against me. I held my ground, despite having to crane my neck awkwardly vertical. He rested his armored hands on his hips, sneering. “You think you know where you stand, rookie? Because I’m telling you, that you are trying to bite off more than you can handle right now.”

I held his gaze, even though my eyes were beginning to water from the strain. “I bet you’d think twice about saying that to a Starsworn, wouldn’t you?”

I regretted the words even before they finish leaving my mouth. He burst into another bout of laughter, sharing looks of open incredulity to his fellow knight. Curly looked at me up and down again. “Starsworn? The most irrelevant, dead order? Oh, catch me, Nervia, I’m shaking.”

The Blonde—Nervia—gave a half hearted scoff, avoiding looking at anything in particular. “C’mon, Haedus. Don’t talk about the dead like that.”

He ignored her, turning his attention to me. “Prove it.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Where’s your Relic?”

I felt a brief moment of panic before squashing it down by setting my teeth in a sneer. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Curly—or Haedus—frowned in a false pensive thought. “I see, I see. So if do this—“

There was no wind-up, and I had no time to react. He slammed the flat of his palm into my diaphragm. All the air was knocked out of my lungs as I was thrown backwards, my spine colliding with the stone wall.

“Haedus!”

Stunned, I stole back short, painfully reedy gasps as I palmed the walls for balance. For a stupid moment, my vision swam in hot spirals, and it was hard to tell where I needed to rise up from. Did I hit my head?

“Where’s your Relic now, Starsworn?”

Even as I gasped around the ache in my chest, desperately trying to snatch back air into my lungs, I felt the familiar pooling of energy, like hot blood surging though my right hand. Anger. A faint globe of light shimmered around my palm. Yes! Just, come out! Get out! Intention, focus intention, manifest the outcome—

The knight grabbed my wrist with a metal grip, which made me cry out as my arm sparked into a thousand pinpricks of electric agony jolting through my arm and down inside the squishy bits in my ribcage. He sneered down his nose at me as I struggled. “Get over yourself. Every squire thinks they’re special at first. Once you’ve seen how life is like for us, once you’ve had a few fights under your belt and find some real perspective, come get me. Then we can talk about who knows better.”

He scraped my wrist against the wall to throw it back in my face, then motioned to his fellow knight to follow. I cradled my arm as I yelled after him, “As long as you remember what being a knight really means by then! God, what a dirty fucking move—”

Nervia’s hand landed on my shoulder. I grit my teeth as I looked up at her. She steadied me, sliding her arm around me until I could stand reliably on my own shaky legs. She brushed off my shoulders with hard swats. “Don’t let him muck up your opinion of us. It’s been hard for us since the war. Some of us…well, you haven’t caught us at our best.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for what I said about Anka. I don’t actually…I squired under her too. She even personally granted me my sword.” She indicated to the hilt of her sword strapped on her hip, which curled elegantly within it’s scabbard like a soft crescent around her leg. “You’re in good hands.”

She gave me an awkward pat on the shoulder before departing. “Go left down the far hall at the first junction. Keep going down, hug the walls until you see the mirrors.

I rubbed under my breastbone as I measured the ache with each wheezing breath, dimly aware of my feet moving towards the training hall. I had never thought about how disillusioned the knights in Astraea might have become in the aftermath of the battle. If it was this bad… I had to talk to Anisa first.

~*~

Sure enough, I followed the stairs down, rubbing at the bruise blooming on my sternum, and found myself in a room encased in mirrors. Anisa stood alone in the center, her slender sword whipping through the air with the sharp sing of cold steel slicing through the air. With each graceful movement, her reflections in the mirrors seemed to come to life, engaged in their own silent battles. Her footsteps shifted lightly over the padded flooring, following a linear set of movements that she performed with effortless ease. She caught sight of me and smiled warmly, adjusting her posture and sheathing her blade. “There you are. I was wondering if you’d gotten lost.”

“I just…” I shook my head, diverting my glance to the darkly stained support pillars lining the practice area. I wasn’t about to explain the encounter I had with those knights. What if they made all the newly conscripted brats go through some hazing ritual when they inducted them into knighthood? Some macho test of mettle? I’d rather back flip off of Mournfall’s bell tower than go crying to the Knight Lieutenant about that.

“Zephyr? Are you all right? What’s on your mind?”

I cleared my throat. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh? Well, don’t be afraid to ask me anything. I’ve been looking forward to speak with you again, and I’ve brought a gift for you.” She said as she brushed her long, cascading brown hair back over her shoulder.

I blinked. “A gift?”

She pressed lips together in a smile, maybe a little apprehensively. “Come take a look? I hope you like it.”

I nodded, and she gestured me to follow her. We crossed the training hall to one corner that hid a narrow entrance to a smaller chamber that looked like a changing room. It was starkly lit with more of those oscillating lights within the iron wrought globes attached to the stone walls, which left no corner of the room unlit. One side of the room was lined with more tall mirrors and it reminded me of the after-school gymnastics halls I used to visit when I was a kid. A few benches lined the opposite side of the wall, with another entrance that spilled hot shower steam.

Anisa led me to a wooden trunk on the ground before spinning, her skirts swishing around her legs, and saying, “I wanted to make you more comfortable during your stay in Astraea. Take a look.”

She motioned me to the trunk. My breath caught in my throat. “Anisa, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” She reassured me. “Look, look!”

“Ha ha, okay,” I said, but felt a trepidation build. I knelt in front of the trunk and pried it open. Carefully folded bundles of clothes lay nestled against each other. The Starsworn symbol jumped out at me. I looked back up to Anisa in surprise. “You got me gear?”

She smiled sheepishly, curling her hair around an ear with a gloved hand. “I had the tailor measure the clothes you gave us to wash, aaaaand I thought to commission a few sets of armor that would suit your style.”

“Wow. It’s not even my birthday.” I breathed, looking up at her with my most sincere smile that stung my eyes. “This is…such a kind gesture. Thank you, Anisa! Really, you didn’t have to go do that.”

“Well. Let’s just say that I was…touched, that you would work so hard on designing your own armor after an order that’s…lost much of it’s shine. Most people these days try not to think about the sacrifices we made, and the heraldry doesn’t inspire much hope anymore.”

No kidding. I was gathering the impression that the last few Starsworn were something like one-hit wonders that had fallen out of style. This had to be tied to the resentment that those two knights from earlier were harboring. I redirecting my thoughts to the trunk. “Can I try this on now?”

“Of course! It’s all yours.”

I quickly stripped off my lumpy tunic, tossing it aside. Anisa tried to politely look away in time, but then frowned. “What happened to your chest?”

I slowed my movements, glancing down. The crown of bruising, dark and reddish brown, was already beginning to show around the lower center of my ribcage, around the exposed edges of my bralette. It looked like it should have hurt worse. I cleared my throat. “I ran into a vase while chasing that spirit from earlier.”

She huffed air through her nose, then started a slow pace away from me as I changed into the first articles I could grab. A pale, thinly woven long-sleeve shirt slipped over my skin like a glove, patterned with strands of crosshatching shimmering fibers. It felt comfortably dense, pleasantly flexing around my elbows. Soft buckskin pants stained a dark mahogany were next, fitted with a matching belt that was riveted with metal loops. My eyes caught on the deep indigo blue jacket. My fingers lifted it up from the trunk with a slow reverence. It was long, and heavy, and I quickly found out why. A scalloped scale mail adorned the inner lining of the garment, flowing gracefully from the nape of the back. The outside shoulders were embellished with studs, reminiscent of the spikes in my cosplay outfit. The Starsworn symbol embroidered on the back was a shimmery light gold.

I swung the long jacket around my shoulders, admiring myself in the mirrors for a moment. I felt more like myself, but elevated. This is what it probably felt like to level up, with a spiffy new set of armor and renewed clarity of who I could become.

“Well, whatcha think?” I said. Anisa looked back at me as I pirouetted in a circle, sending my coat tails in a spiral, and bowed deeply down. Then looked up with a sly grin, because I’m a cheeky devil like that.

“Like a natural.” She said with an admiring chuckle. “Now, what was it that you were going to ask me?”

“Oh, right.” I cleared my throat as I rose back up, feeling more than a little awkward. How to approach this tactfully? “I…I wanted to know what happened exactly, during this war I keep hearing about. From what I’ve seen, the aftermath has left things, uh, divisive.”

Her eyes went wide, and I got the sense that she’d been avoiding this topic when she averted her gaze. “Ah.” She said. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around to help fill in these gaps. I had hoped Felix would have filled you in by now.”

I hung my head backwards with a sigh, shoving my hands into my new pockets. Oooh, roomy. “Felix has been dodging my questions and insists on teaching me theory from the ground up. Which is great and all! I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I just think I need a more hands-on type of teaching, and maybe some cliff notes—er, a summary of what’s happened.”

Anisa rubbed at her temples. “I should have known it would be a difficult topic to broach—“

“You really got to stop doing that.”

Anisa blinked. “Stop what?”

“You apologize a lot. Even for things that are out of your range. Not every problem is your fault or responsibility to fix. I’m not trying to make you fix all my issues or saddle you with guilt. I know you’re busy. It’s just nice to have…” I hesitated. “Well, someone like you, someone who knows a little bit about Earth. To chat with, and vent a little. Just…talk. Like friends?” I said, then swallowed and added. “No pressure, though.”

I left it there for her to do whatever she wanted with.

She was silent for a moment. “Your candor is appreciated.”

“Candor is my middle name.” I said cheerily, plucking at the lapels of my new coat. I mean, I wish. Like, what was I supposed to do with Lazuli-Starr? Candor was probably a cool word for camaraderie, right? I was pretty sure that’s what it meant.

“Are you homesick?”

“I…” Ugh. I tried to tick off the things that I missed about my life on earth. I definitely wished my parents were around, but my…friends? I hadn’t felt that close to them in years. I did miss sitting by the waters’ edge, listening to the waves lapping on the rocky shore. The sea lions whooping and gulls swooping at twilight. But that wasn’t exactly what I would call home. I missed sharing all of those things with someone else. Someone who made me laugh and commiserate through stress. Someone who wanted to spread out a deck of cards with me, and laugh with me over bad plays and confessions.

I sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know if I actually am homesick. I miss knowing the structure of my life. It was…reassuring? But I don’t know if I miss it enough to feel totally afraid with where I am now. I just wish I could reclaim some of that…ugh, I don’t actually know what I’m trying to say here.” I glanced at the mirrors, reflecting several versions of us standing in this dressing room, lit with the warm flickering of lamps that spun with tiny oscillating lights. “I’d like to know if the ground I’m standing on isn’t going to swallow me up whenever I walk into something new. I keep thinking I know where I stand here, but… I’m still terrified.”

We stood in silence. I wondered what thought spiral she was becoming immersed in. But then she spoke. “Felix took things quite hard after…” Anisa halted. “Actually, it’s not my place to tell his side of things. But I’ll do my best to recall the events for you.”

Even though the Starsworn lost or won their final battle here, in Mournfall, nothing she could say to me would give a full account of what had happened. I supposed it was easy to fall back into normalcy, in some ways. Recount the highlights, lowlights, or whatever. Anisa had a distant look in her eyes. “The Lord of Shadows was an unprecedented force of evil. And inhuman monster of a man. He burned down this town and more. Destroyed families. We all lost loved ones in the war. One of our own, our Captain…he was the best of us. He and Felix were…quite close.”

“Oh.” I said, lamely. Neither fate nor the stars can keep us apart. “So is that why Felix has been so dicey about talking about my Relic?”

Anisa winced. “Felix… I don’t know about him anymore. He’s been so distant since…”

I didn’t want to prod anymore. I felt pretty bad for asking to begin with. “It kind of seems like everyone left is… pretending everything is going to be okay?”

“I think we’ve been trying to feel that way for a long time.” Anisa fidgeted with her hands. “Can I tell you something?”

I nodded, holding her hand tightly.

Anisa tensed, and I got the feeling she changed her mind. “The Lord of Shadows used necromancy to raise the dead to fight against us. So we had to kill our loved ones all over again.”

She said that with the same distant placidity of recalling a time she dropped an ice cream cone. Something shoved away like it didn’t actually bother the happenings of today. My chest felt tight. Having to kill your loved ones? Razing through your own world, faces that were once familiar? That was the most gut-wrenching thing I’d ever heard, and she lived though it. Survived. I tried to put myself in her shoes, and felt much too small for them.

I wanted to apologize for bringing this up, and more importantly, I wanted to take that distant look in her eyes away. I gently cleared my throat. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. It sounds horrifying.”

The vision of the Last Legacy pamphlet swam into my mind again. A ruined city, and the monstrous caricatures of the Starsworn, and the enormous, vile demon rising in ashen tendrils over a full moon. That couldn’t be the end of this story. Not while I’m around to do anything about it.

“Hey, look at me.” I reached out to grasp her hand, squeezing lightly. She slowly blinked, her gaze drifting back down to our interlaced fingers. “I’m so thankful that you’re here for me. You’ve given me something to help me find myself, when I’ve never felt so out of place before in my life.”

She inhaled, regaining her posture. “I’m happy to help.”

I mangled through an indignant noise in my throat. “No, seriously. You’re amazing, and I’m lucky to have you on my side. Besides, what are the Starsworn without you?”

She scoffed, a light blush dusting her cheeks as she looked down at our joined hands. “Well, without you, the Starsworn might have never reunited.”

“Pssh!” I nudged her shoulder. “I think some people just need a good enough reason to come together and talk again. After that, someone’s gotta be the group parent, or else we’d all freak out.”

I leaned my head against her shoulder. She patted her other hand over our intertwined fingers. We stayed that way for a few minutes before she cleared her throat. “Well, enough of this maudlin conversation for now.”

“Oh, yeah.” I cleared my throat again and affected a serious expression.

Anisa raised an eyebrow at me. “Would you like to blow off some steam?”

I grinned. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that.”

Anisa grinned. “Pick a practice weapon. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

 

Notes:

Sorry for the delay. Had to pick up a second job to make ends meet, so not much time left for writing. Honestly, I've been so goddamn tired, but this story have never left my mind. In fact, I've haphazardly written some future chapters in the rare off times I'm at work. BUT! Gonna move into the house of my dreams soon! My schedule will become normalized again soonish. And I look forward to devoting more attention to this fic.
Thank you so much for reading. DFILY!

Chapter 8

Ok, let’s one thing straight. I've had some measure of athleticism in me. I’d done gymnastics as a kid, practiced some Aikido with my dad in the yard, and worked in my mom’s restaurant for some extra money in high school. Keeping a fitness routine up over the years was less of a chore and more of a necessity to keep my brain from spinning out of my skull at night. So I know a thing or two about perseverance, and had built and maintained some endurance that I could be proud of. But this was Astraea, and Anisa wasn’t getting paid to pull any punches.

After I'd excitedly darted towards the weapon rack, Anisa had quickly lured me back towards the center of the training mat. We started with rigorous stretches while she assessed my strength, aptitude, and my attitude before really putting me though my paces. “Build yourself up the way you’d cultivate your magic. The bigger the pool to start with, the more you can last.”

I thought I knew what I was getting into. It was then when I re-learned humility.

“Hey,” I exhaled during one of our martial practices, a sheen of sweat covering my body and my tank top clinging uncomfortably to my upper body. “I just wanted to say how grateful I am, for these one-on-one lessons with you. Like, it’s super cool having a Knight Lieuten—“

Anisa led with her foot and I leapt backward—just in time for her to launch a hard gust of wind at me that resounded in my ears. My feet left the ground as I sailed backwards and skidded over the padded flooring. I landed in a sprawling heap.

“Once again, Zephyr,” Anisa said, as she stalked around me. “Keep your guard up.”

“How the hell am I supposed to guard against a magic blast like that?” I snapped back, scrambling to my feet once more.

“So I’m to believe Felix has taught you nothing so far?” She was suddenly a lot closer than I thought, flicking at the cowlick my hair was doing. The jeer in her tone didn’t go unnoticed.

“We haven’t gotten that far.” I admitted, bitterly.

“Clearly.” Anisa let out a long breath through her nose. “If we’re progressing past your abilities, then it’s perfectly fine to--”

I feinted a sliding foot at where she stood, which she hopped over. I braced my arms on the ground and kicked backwards, my bare heel hitting the back of her knee. She stumbled, though recovered easily. She gave me an approving look. “That’s more like it!”

I learned footwork the hard way, which meant being completely present in my body and maintaining awareness of Anisa’s movements. Calculating my opponent’s timing was never my strong suit. Reading Anisa’s movements felt like I was blindfolded and reaching for desperate tricks. I got forcefully thrown, but managed to roll backwards and spring back at her with a fist that she dodged like she’d seen it coming before I did, which left me sprawling. Even as I got up for a quick shot near her ribs, she slipped away and redirected my momentum with a light push to my hip as I sailed by.

I shook my head, curling my fists. “How the hell do you do that?”

She shrugged, keeping a never ending pace around me. “Stay light.”

She did things that defied logic, and her ability to knock me off balance was as amazing as it was incredibly frustrating. She made fighting look like art. And at the end of our sessions I felt like screaming into a pillow. At least I did, until my head actually crashed into said pillow and then it was lights out. Easy, for once, with no preamble.

Her command over hand-to-hand combat was terrific. Every time I thought I understood a move, she’d change the dynamic so that I nearly always ended the day on my ass and pondering how everything went so wrong. But I realized, much too belatedly, that winning was never the point. It was all about learning how to fall, and how to do it gracefully, and rolling through the failure to keep picking myself up afterward.

I never actually got to beat her at her own game. However, I did manage to work out a friendly arrangement. She’d kick my ass in the training hall after learning a new movement, and in return I’d spoon-feed her tidbits of Earth trivia. This way, I’d figured out the way through her defenses was through her curiosity.

She was devilishly curious about the varied types of cuisine that Earth has to offer. And I was in a special place to offer those morsels of information.

“Have you ever heard of something called an ‘all you can eat buffet’?” Anisa asked idly. She sat pristinely, cross-legged, while I was flat on my back on the training mat, sweat slicking my clothes to my body and my chest heaving up and down in labored movements. I rolled my head towards her. Seriously, how could she think about food right after a workout? I low-key wanted to throw up at the idea of eating food.

I yawned. “Yeah. There’s loads of places like that. ‘Bring the whole family’ kind of thing.” I rolled onto my side and propped my head up on my palm and pointed at her with severity. “My favorite, was this one hot pot place in the next town over. Something about how they did their szechuan spicy broth would send me to outer space, every time.”

“Wow,” She murmured with a soft smile, relaxing on her elbows. “What a dream.”

“It is until you’re so full you cant move.” I stretched, wincing at the soreness spreading from my arms to my abdomen and down my thighs. I snuck a glance at her. “You’re kind of a foodie, aren’t you?”

“Foodie?” She raised an eyebrow, leaning on her elbows.

“Yeah, like you get enthusiastic about eating good food.” I sat up, with a minor struggle and a grunt. “It’s a kind of love language for you, isn’t it?”

She blushed. “A … love language?”

“Yeah. I mean, not necessarily romantically. More like…it’s how you show affection to the people that are important to you. Sharing food with your friends, sharing your preferences, and trying new things with them.”

My mom was always like that. She loved making friends by making them food. It was one of the reasons she’d gotten so good at her job.

“Love language…foodie…I suppose that’s right” She tasted the words like new flavors. Then she did this adorable, foot-paddling thing as she revved up to ask me another question. “Do you know how to cook?”

I smiled, all indulgent. “My mom’s a chef. She still does consulting and fills in for restaurants that need help, and she does a lot of pop ups around town to earn extra cash or to fund raise.” Some of my favorite memories with her happened in a kitchen. She taught me a lot, and with thinking about it made me sway with a fierce pang of longing. “So, yeah, to answer your question in a roundabout way—I definitely know how to cook.”

She propped her head on her palm, still laying on her side. “You’re close to your family.”

It wasn’t a question. My memories blurred together, flipping through a rolodex of mouthwatering smells and flashes of fire and spoonfuls of tastes that left me longing for a time that I wasn’t in charge of my own life. Of dinner being served out of a tiny kitchen, emanating tinny music though a swinging kitchen door. Eventually, I found one memory that I could easily talk about. “One time I smacked my grandma in the face with pizza dough.”

Anisa’s eyebrows shot up into her bangs.

“No, no, I didn’t do it on purpose! I was ten and doing it for the first time. My grandma was standing too close when I tossed the dough into the air. She was so mad!” It sounded so dumb when I said it out loud. I laughed and shook my head hurriedly. “Just trust me. It was pretty funny. Well, Lola was mad at first, but then she started flicking flour at my face for the rest of the night.” I chuckled, which turned into an even bigger laugh that shook my shoulders. “I can’t believe I knocked the glasses right off her face! I would have been more upset if Mom wasn’t laughing so hard.”

It was really good memory. My mom had tried so hard to make the most of whatever scant vacation time she could wring out of her busy schedule. I wondered if I’d ever get to have those kind of moments again. “Anyway,” I said, swallowing hard. “Since then, the only casualties have been a couple vases, but those were pretty ugly to begin with.”

Anisa’s laugh was subdued, though her smile was radiant. “Your family sounds like fun.”

I snorted. “My family rules.” Then, almost as an afterthought, “Were you close to your mom?”

The brightness left her face, and I instantly regretted my words.

Damn it. Anisa had never disclosed her relationship with Anya Anka to me before. I should have known better than to bring her up. But before I could say any more, she flicked her hair off her shoulder and fixed a terse stare at a section of the mirrors. I followed her gaze to the reflections of ourselves in the mirrors, stretching forever out in repetitions, smaller and smaller. I wondered what she saw in all those reflections, what made her mouth press tight.

When she finally spoke I nearly jolted, surprised by her tone. “It was different with…my father. My mother was always busy in Rivath. Always busy. I… my father left us when I was still young. And then, when…” She blinked, twice, then screwed her eyes shut hard, pinching the bridge of her nose.

A pang of regret struck me. I reached out to touch the edge of her arm. “We can leave it at that. But thank you for sharing.”

Anisa looked away, staring at nothing. Damn, maybe I should apologize for asking such an intruding question. “I’m sorry if I made you share too much. That was none of my business. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Zephyr,” She reached over to put her hand over mine, then tilted her head away. I held my breath, feeling the first licks of dread like I was about to lose the special connection we had, small as it was. She did a pesky, paddling thing with her feet before she breathed in sharply. “I’ll be leaving on a special assignment soon. I’m being transferred back to Porrima.”

“Oh.” I said, swallowing hard as my shoulders slumped and my heart sank. “Okay.”

Okay? That’s all you can say? I scrubbed my nails under my chin, for lack of anything better to do, looking away. “I guess I got used to taking our lessons for granted.”

Anisa had the grace to not point it out the bitterness in my tone. “I’m tasked with escorting an ambassador from Rivath to meet with the High Paladin. My orders dictate that I need to remain in the city until their meeting concludes. I can’t say much more than that.”

“Okay.” Disappointment sat heavy in my stomach. I stood up and moved to the magically chilled flagon of water resting on a table pushed against the far wall, past pillars and mirrors. I was suddenly aware of how thirsty I was, but I squeezed my eyes shut, listening to the feeling of water pouring water into the cup.

“Will you come visit me?”

Water splashed over my fingers as I blinked, turning back to her in astonishment. “Huh? Like, in Porrima?”

Anisa nodded vigorously, bounding up to her feet. “You’d like it. Big city, lots of street food, and on right on the eastern coast. I’d love to show you around.”

She wanted to see me again… She wanted to see me again. In the next city over. I wasn’t sure how far away that was, but I knew that I wanted to go. I could scarcely make it out of Mournfall before getting redirected back into the keep by Mournfall’s night guard, despite my protests. But now there was reason to depart. A real reason.

But…Celena, and the spirit that Felix and I had encountered. It’d been keeping me up at night, along with all the other faint whispers lingering in Mournfall. The spirit had made too many distinct references. I knew it had to be Celena’s spirit, lurking nearby. I couldn’t leave until I knew she was safe. Though sometimes I wondered if I was hoping and wishing for something that didn’t really exist.

No. I wouldn’t give up. Celena deserved better. She had so much to go back home for.

I shook my head, grinning. “Lets meet up in Porrima then. But first, I have business take care of. My friend, you know…”

She nodded. “Understood. And I wish you the best of luck. Oh!” She stood up and crossed the room with way more grace than I could have mustered after a workout. She plucked a cream-colored scroll from her belongings before looking at me. “You’ll be joining Felix for lessons later, correct?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, after I shower off and hydrate.” Hours from now. Felix had a habit of waking up at the crack of noon, and no sooner.

She approached me, and I was reminded again by how tall she actually was. She extended the scroll out to me. “Will you give him this, please?”

I took it as I glugged down water. It was squashed crisply flat in the center, an iridescent red blob of wax sealed it closed. It was imprinted with a snake twined around a staff.

“Felix’s mail keeps getting sent to my inbox, for some reason.” Anisa explained. “I’ll have to speak with Auriga about keeping better track of the errands I send him on.”

I spluttered, dribbling water down my chin before wiping it away with the back of my arm. “Gluh—did you say Auriga?”

Anisa raised an eyebrow. “Yes. They’re relatives of House Varela, the only Ilephtan noble house this side of the Suhail. Have you met them?”

I coughed, making a twirling motion near my ear. “The bratty one with the curly hair and horns?”

She cleared her throat, looking mildly uncomfortable. “Ah, yes. Haedus. Well, ah…I don’t normally treat my knights this way. It’s just…” She wound her hand together as she searched the ceiling for something. “Haedus has shown much potential, but still lacks the finesse of controlling his emotions. Despite all his exemplary prowess during his training, he still has the mind of a, oh how do I put this— a tomcat, strutting about in his armor. He’s shown poor— why are you laughing?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” I guffawed around my hand. Then, daringly, I said, “He definitely comes off like he’s got something to prove.”

“Oh, don’t I know it. It’s like he’s got a heart of steel one moment and then the other, his restraint falls apart when in the presence of his peers. He just has to show off. The hundreds of hours and hours of drilling honor, pride in service, and sacrifice, drilling it all in his—“ Anisa rapped her knuckles against her head, “thick skull, all to become just lines in a script. Utterly frustrating.”

She threw her hands up with a loud noise of frustration. Then collected herself again with an apprehensive look over her shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

I smothered a laugh behind my knuckles. “Not a soul.”

~*~

The actual practice of magic training was another matter.

Various magical artifacts were already cluttering Felix’s makeshift study, strewn carelessly over every surface. Dusty scrolls, tiny bottles, and half-read books laid open on every surface. Many books appeared bookmarked with crystals and odd trinkets. One looked like a giant, blackened and calcified bird’s foot.

Regardless of Felix’s state of affairs, late spring sunlight streamed in through the single dusty window, allowing a bright clean shaft to illuminate the musty room. Shards of dust motes hung in the air, along with soft whispers that tickled my brain. I’d learned to close that part of my mind, or else they’d leak into my dreams. I already had enough reasons to pace during the deep hours of night.

Felix had draped himself over a cozy armchair, one foot idly rotating in a constant motion. He yawned, then pointed a lazy hand to the candle perched on a pedestal, far on one side of the room. “Magic isn’t about straining yourself. Let it flow.”

“Easy for you to say.” I said, squinted at the candle wick, willing it to catch fire with all the ferocity I had in me. My extended fingers twitched, mimicking the arcane gestures that Felix had demonstrated with such easy, frustrating elegance. "Come on," I muttered under my breath, a bead of sweat trailing down my temple. The candle remained unlit, defiant in its stillness.

"Try closing your eyes." Felix said. His gentle encouragements were beginning to buzz in my ears. "Visualize the flame, my dear barista. Not just the flame, but the warmth, the flicker, the way it dances in the air. Let it manifest, with not just your mind, but with the intention—"

"Right now, my ‘intent’ is about to ‘manifest’ this candle at your face," I retorted, but I drew in a deep breath and tried again.

With a flick of my wrist to pool the power in my hand, I snapped my fingers with a crisply, satisfying crack. But something strange tethered with my throw of magic, something that made my skin itch.

The candle didn’t just ignite. It exploded. I jumped as bright thermite white erupted brilliantly in angry puffs of firecracker snaps of smoke. I held my breath until it vanished, without a trace of actual fire.

“Did I do that?” I asked Felix, who rose from his seat to circle me.

“Ah, no. I attempted a, uh, synergy, out of curiousity….”Felix trailed off.

“You hijacked my magic.” My shoulders slumped. “I don’t want training wheels.”

“But you’re expending much more force than you need to.”

I huffed. “Tell that to the candle.”

Felix took a deep breath, then tilted his head with a slight furrow in his brow. He stood behind me, lifting my spellcasting arm up by the elbow up as his other hand braced on my left shoulder. I was carefully aware of where his chin dropped down to rest against my right shoulder, peering straight ahead.

“Don’t force it.” He said softly, near my ear. I shivered, letting him guide me. “Aim.”

I remembered how he’d kissed me, so gently against my neck. Neither fate nor the stars can keep us apart. Words so tenderly said, pressing his face against my skin. I bit the side of my tongue to keep from shivering.

This time, when my hand moved, a sparkling fizzle sputtered around the candle before dissipating into nothingness. I restrained a frustrated growl. It was like trying to fish in a river with my bare hands—every time I thought I seized the right feeling, the right moment to manifest, it slipped and squiggled away.

“Be patient with yourself, my dear barista.” Felix offered a reassuring squeeze to my shoulder. “Not everyone was born with the innate ability to summon storms and change the course of history.”

“Weren’t you just telling me how you set your toys on fire as a baby?" I countered, half hoping for a smile out of my teacher. Something to ease the sense of defeat coiling in my chest.

“That was child’s play, and my nanny had an excellent severance package. Good magic doesn’t come without toil and sacrifice. It takes as much as it gives. Anything worth pursuing will demand it’s own pound of flesh.”

“Is magic always as morbid as you make it out to be, or do you just have a way with words?”

He arched an eyebrow down at me with a bit of a smirk that hinted at dimples. “What did you expect from me?”

I couldn't help the small smile. He was getting better at nudging me out of my own head. "Okay, fair enough. Thirteenth time's the charm, right?" I said, rolling my shoulders to shed the weight of previous failures.

He pushed my elbow back up with the tips of his fingers, bracing my shoulder with his other hand. With another deep breath, I rolled my hand, my mind laser-focused on the task. My heart synced to the rhythm of an unperceivable drumbeat, and for once my thoughts silenced.

“Find your calm,” Felix murmured next to my ear. “Let your instinct spring from—“”

“Shut up.”

The world became dim, quiet, until I heard—no, felt— a distinct hum resonating from within me. Musical and natural, instilling a peace throughout my body. It no longer felt like a fight, like something to force, to manipulate. It… I caught the beat of a rhythm that had always been there. The hum of a tuning fork struck, not just in my ears this time. One...two...three...breathe out, and in. Internalize, and manifest the energy outward—

"Ignite." I whispered, and snapped my fingers with a rush of power.

The candle flame sputtered to life, flickering joyfully for a heartbeat before stabilizing, resolute under my astonished gaze. I stared at the flame as a grin blasted across my face as my knees weakened, my fingers tingling. I pumped a fist in the air and shrieked. “Yes!”

Felix beamed beside me. “Well done, Zeph-Oof!”

I launched myself into Felix’s arms, nearly toppling us both over as I squeezed him with all the excitement in my body, giggling madly at my success. “Did you see that? I just did that with magic!”

“Erm—yes, Zephyr, very impressive!” He wheezed as I released him. He averted his gaze, his face red as he cleared his throat. I let him go with a breathless smile.

“Sorry, I got excited. I’ve never done anything this awesome before in my whole life! Magic is so fucking cool!” I was grinning madly, thrilled with my entire being. I gripped his arms with a severity I’ve never had before. “Felix. I. Performed. Magic!"

“Your enthusiasm is… novel, and not unappreciated,” Felix stammered, hooking a finger around his neckline to loosen it. “I’m certainly happy for your achievements so far. It seems like you have more than just a spark in you, Zephyr."

I looked at him with all the admiration I could muster. “You gave me this, Felix. Thank you!”

He held my gaze, swallowing with a wan smile. His fingers drifted up to touch the edge of my cheek before finally looking away to hide his reddening face. “Well, ah…”

I guess I shouldn’t torture the guy. I poked his ribs with a playful elbow jab, “Guess you can teach an old barista new tricks.”

The satisfaction of success mingled with the slightly sadistic enjoyment of watching Felix squirm around targeted affection. There’s probably a word for that.

The study doors burst open, banging against the walls. Sage stormed through with heaving breaths.

I released Felix, letting him clasp his hands together in abrupt chastity. Sage’s eyes darted between us and grinned mischievously. "Not interrupting anything, am I?"

"As a matter of fact, you are," Felix said coolly, gesturing to the candle. "Our dear barista has successfully performed her first spell."

Second, technically, but the first time was more of a reflexive fluke in Anisa's office.

Sage looked at the candle and made a polite noise of performative interest. "Huh, nice. Now let’s move. I’ve found Celena."

Notes:

It's been a minute, hasn't it? I'm so happy to post a new chapter. There is more to come soon. I've also been toying with the idea of a Sage POV companion story. I'm thinking it'd be a possible dual timeline that alternates between Sage's youth and upbringing with the Griefers that will eventually tie in with his perspectives during the events happening within this story. I'm really interested in what you guys think, so leave a comment if you have an opinion or advice about any of this.
Also, don't ever forget that I love you all and I hope you have an awesome day!

Chapter 9

I did a double take. “You found her?”

Sage jutted his chin back to the set of doors he’d burst through. “Anisa’s already heading over to the infirmary to meet her.”

My heart leaped up into my throat. I knew it! I knew it! Even back at the fight at the Saucy Gull. Sage had saved me in the nick of time, and I hadn’t had enough time to get a good look at her or where she’d gone. But when I’d called out to her, she’d seemed frantic. She’d called out my name, recognized my voice. And I’d just left her there. I’d been so distracted. Nearly getting shanked by a huge thug will do that to a person. But even after all that, I felt so validated that I wasn’t just chasing shadows.

All of the excuses that had sprung to mind couldn’t suppress the ever-present feeling of guilt. That I should have scoured out all of Mournfall, and not just the keep. But every time I roamed too close to the gates, the guards had informed me of a curfew and tried to reassure me that it’d be safer for me to stay within the walls.

It only got worse the more I spent time with Felix and Anisa. As the knights and squires saw me practicing and learning with them, they’d realized I wasn’t just a nobody with a sense of superiority. I got shoved and thrown and lectured, just like the rest. I was training, and I was trying. I was actually someone of worth here. I belonged. I was meant to be there, and a part of me was starting to believe it too.

Yet I felt their individual presences as bars in a prison I was trapped within. I listened when Anisa told me to stay within Mournfall keep, and humored Felix whenever he advised me to stay close by. Despite my exhaustion from working my body, mind, and magic all day, I still had to deal with the whispers of the dead when I tried to sleep.

They were often desperate and heartbroken noises, fragments of sentences that wafted in and out of earshot. Half the time I feared if I’d hear Celena’s voice amongst them.

But now I had hope.

“How are we certain this truly her?” Felix said, his arms folded across his chest as he ticked a finger at his chin with a hard frown.

I didn’t mean to snap my head back at him so sharply. He flung his hands up in the air. “I’m only asking!”

“Well, that’s why we need Zephyr to come and make sure. But she did had one of these thingies on her.” Sage dangled a chunky pink and turquoise marbled block from his fingers, flipping it in the air before catching it in his palm. “Look familiar?”

“Whoa, whoa, be careful!” I lunged, reaching with greedy fingers at the phone. Sage yanked it just out of reach, dangling it high above me as I strained to snatch away from him. I scoffed. “Wow, not cool.”

Sage looked way too pleased with himself, fueled by my attention his antics and my pathetic attempts to snatch the phone away. He twisted it back and forth in his upheld hand, the black screen catching the light and flashing it directly into my eyeballs. “Why? What is it, anyway?”

I squinted with a sigh, affecting my best Felix impression as I steepled my fingers in front of my face. “You are holding in your hands one of the most versatile and powerful devices on Earth. With it you can instantly summon the vast wealth of all collected human knowledge and insight. You can summon the voices and faces of your loved ones at a moment’s notice, and speak with them over vast distances, just like—” I snapped my fingers. “—That! All without expending any magic.”

The two of them shared looks of suspicion. This was probably the first time I’d seen them on the same page about anything.

It’s not like I’d ever get any signal on a phone to access anything useful. Can’t phone my family, can’t order a ride home, can’t get pizza delivered. Cant ask a search engine for answers about my predicament. My own phone was little more than a rectangular paperweight, carefully tucked into my backpack. But the propriety of it still meant something to me.

I sighed, reluctantly. “They don’t work here. Mine is dead. It’s a specific kind of technology that only works in my world. Dont get any funny ideas about using it.”

Sage looked relieved, leaning against one of the tables. The legs let out a squeak of protest. Felix took a tentative step forward, if a bit stiffly. “How has Celena traveled here, from your world to ours? Could she have hitched a ride along with you? I’d like to think that I’d have noticed. Or could her soul be tied to a personable possession such as this?”

“How would I know?” I said, while Sage wrinkled his nose but held out the phone at arm’s length like it would detonate at any moment. He raised an eyebrow at me. “You sure this thing is safe?”

I wracked my head to explain it to someone who had no idea what a smartphone was. “Imagine a kind of portal that requires no magic, connected to an invisible web that spans the world, letting you see, hear, and talk to anyone—anywhere—in an instant. It’s an extremely personal, delicate, and valuable device that you need to stop playing with—give it here!” I attempted to swipe it out of Sage’s grip when his arm began to sag, but to no avail.

“Daaaamn…” Sage said, examining the fractured screen on the phone again from high above. “So why does it looks broken?”

I growled through my teeth, scratching my fingers through my hair. “They can be slippery.”

“All of that, without magic? Fascinating.” Felix mused, watching Sage grin and clearly enjoy my increasingly horrified expression as he tossed it between the outstretched breadth of his arms, despite my protests. I followed the phone with panicky, beseeching movements as I watched it sail back and forth between his hands, certain that I’d wind up with a heart attack at any moment now.

“Well, as much as I’d delight in watching my apprentice eventually immolate you with her newly acquired talents,” Felix drawled. “Do us a favor and tell us more about this newest interloper.”

They had a moment to glare barbs at each other before an important detail dawned on me. “Wait, you said ‘infirmary’? What’s wrong? Is Celena ok?”

Sage clicked his tongue before sucking in a breath through his teeth as he looked away from us. “You should just see for yourself.”

“Well, no time to waste.” Felix said, rising from his chair. “Let’s see to our new guest at once!” Sage and I watched him bound out of the study without looking back.

I swiped the phone out of Sage’s hand, clutching the clunky case protectively to my chest. He didn’t seem to notice, scoffing. “Oh, so now he’s in a hurry.”

Felix meekly poked his head back into the study. “Where exactly is this infirmary, again?”

~*~

I had plenty time to think as we marched through Mournfall. I held my breath for a moment, silently praying a familiar verse I’d issued to the Gods of Late Nights and Random Miracles, before pressing the button on the side of Celena’s phone. The drained battery icon flashed, under a myriad of broken pixels spider-webbing across the surface. Not even the chunky, pastel pink-and-turquoise frosted case had saved it on it’s journey to Astraea. I wondered if something about the journey from Earth to Astraea sapped the battery in electronics.

A trickle of dread pooled behind my ribs, weighing heavily as my pace fell behind the others. How had Celena broken her phone screen so bad? What kind of things had she gone through, this whole time while I was safely sequestered within the keep walls? I feared the worst, feeling the weight in every step I took.

I shoved her bulky phone into my back pocket (with bit of a struggle, that thing was like a brick) as we passed by a wide alcoves. Our footsteps drew attention from the knights all around us, conglomerating in groups. I could feel their eyes following as we walked past them, their armor glinting bronze as we strode past in silence. Some of the younger ones lingered in the halls, dashing out of our way upon our approach through the halls. Sage took the lead, revelled in the attention. He winked and blew kisses left and right, and Felix was at a risk of giving himself whiplash from how hard he was rolling his eyes.

As we passed another alcove, I caught a glimpse of bright, slicked-back yellow hair. Nervia stood tall across a trio of squires, standing to attention, elbow to elbow. Her face was stern, commanding. Her armor bore a litany of knicks and dents, marring the perfection of her polished, bronze and leather stature.

She barked something that inspired the squires to perform a smart genuflection. In unison, each one of them dropped to one knee, right hands crossed over to the hilt of their swords, the left held in tight fists behind their backs, heads bowed low and rigid. Anisa’s explanation of the venerable Sunstone salute rang in my head.

One hand armed and always ready to fight with honor, while the other is witnessed and fisted over loyal, bowed servitude, never to be raised to strike at fellow countryman.

My wandering gaze fish-hooked Nervia’s attention. Her sharp eyes dotted sights at the company I kept, until she nodded with salute, linking her forehead to my direction with crisp hand motion. I copied her movement, desperately hoping I wasn’t making an ass out of myself. It was no harm-no foul with her at least. Though I definitely had some words to say to her cousin Haedus, if I ever crossed paths with him again.

Looking at her, though, made me feel starkly out of my element. What right did I have to surround myself with a bunch of war heroes? I had a Relic, but I had no idea how to use it. And if I was being harshly honest, as I glanced at the two Starsworn walking next to me, I didn’t think they had a clue either. I steeled my jaw and kept walking.

I thought about Celena’s voice, when Felix and I heard it near the gazebo. It had to have been Celena. It wasn’t just part of the low whispering voices I constantly heard behind an ear, the inaudible ones that I’d only just learned to ignore and let fade into the background along with whistling wind through the narrow battlements. This one was too real, too cognizant, too relatable. But what had she been so scared of? And why did her voice vanish when it did, after a mind-numbing scream like that?

We climbed up stairs that wrapped around the main entrance to the keep, far from the bustle of the main hall. I set one foot on the third floor when a sudden wave of unease threatened to knock me off balance. I shuddered and splayed a palm out to the cold stone wall to steady myself.

Dread sank deep into me, sinking down to my bones, making me freeze. The smell of a hundred struck matches filled my senses, lingering in the frigid air, making my eyes water and dulling my nerves. My blood became like sleet through my veins, making me shiver violently. What the hell is happening?

Shadows encroached the edges of my vision as time slowed to a crawl. A movement on the edge of my periphery caught my attention. My breath fogged in front of my face as I turned my head slowly, dragged, as if locked in a dream.

A tall, cloaked figure approached from the far end of the hall. Felix and Sage seemed to drift in slow motion, stuck in time. Something was very wrong here. Even the shrill sounds drifting in through the arched windows became hollowed, stretched. I shook my head, but it only made my vision swirl. The cloaked figure weaved easily between Felix and Sage’s still forms, their pace bizarrely mismatched with the rest of the world, moving through a photograph. The closer they drew—and something lurking deep in that primal, lizard-chunk of my brain told me that this person was absolutely coming for me—the more paralyzed I felt. The blood in my ears pulsed louder and louder, drowning out all other sounds. It was all I could do to keep from falling back down the stairs, yet I couldn’t move. I was frozen in a moment of surmounting terror. I had to get away. I had to get away now.

You don’t belong here. I flinched, my movement sluggish. The voice was acidic next to my ear, making me want to cringe. I wanted to call out to Felix and Sage. I wanted to tell them we needed to escape. Escape, run, hide--

Wait… Why were we going upstairs? Shouldn’t an infirmary be more easily accessed by the healers near the entrance? Ideally positioned near the main gates? Now that I was thinking about it, I’d jogged by the small chapel-like building during one of my many restless-night rounds around the keep. It’d been remodeled, built to handle the aftermath of the war five years ago.

It made no sense for all of us to be climbing upwards, and I’d been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t even questioned what direction we were going.

I blinked several times, narrowing on the figure that was suddenly passing me without slowing. I breathed a tentative sigh of relief, despite the persistent sensation of a wrathful gaze boring into me.

I took a step and immediately stumbled over something on the ground that nearly made me sprawl. I looked down, expecting to see a curl to the rug that I hadn’t noticed before.

A pale body lay at my feet, splayed out limp. A pool of dark blood spread around the head, smashed face down into the carpet. Short lilac hair fanned around her head. One outstretched arm twisted at a painful angle. The frilly pink dress was falling around her shoulders, smeared with dark splatters, cloth wet and glistening with sticky, damp viscera.

—phyr…

I reeled backwards, but in agonizingly slow motion. Moving my arms felt like churning through dark molasses. The staggering odor of decay invaded my nostrils, dripping down the back of my throat. I choked in revulsion, saliva pooling metallic under my tongue. The whispers that lingered around the edges of my mind rose in volume, intertwining in dissonant harmonics. I could barely breathe as I looked back up to the figure in black, almost out of sight but still seething with hatred and thick oily smoke—

—ephyr… I shut my eyes, holding my breath as I felt someone grip me by the shoulders, shaking me hard. My head snapped back and forth, then falling foward into a hard embrace. I sank into it in surrender, the way I used to tuck my face into the familiar crook of Zach’s neck—

“Zephyr!”

I blinked, yanking back from the shout next to my ear. I rubbernecked, unsure of the ruddy dark surrounding me. My brain felt painfully swollen, blood rushing loud through my ears, much like a hangover. The whispers evaporated from my mind were replaced with an eeeeee that could have shattered glass.

When I looked down, the body was gone. The rug at my feet was smooth, threadbare and dusty dry. The walls were static gray stone, bereft of adornment, just as before. Sage was bracing me against himself, his arms holding me upright. He watched me like a caged animal that could bite him at any moment.

I looked behind me to where that cloaked figure had gone. Nothing there anymore, just more empty hall. I couldn’t have just imagined it. Where had that vision actually come from? It’d been so visceral. I blinked hard, shaking my head as I whispered, “We’re going the wrong way.”

“You look like hell.” Sage said quietly, just for me, and brushed the hair off my forehead with the tips of his fingers.

“I’m…” I screwed my eyes shut and shook my head to shake the dazed feeling of whatever waking nightmare that was.

“Magic takes it’s toll,” Felix said slowly. “And you’ve been practicing too hard. It’s important to take time to rejuvenate—“

“We’ve been going the wrong way,” I said again, my voice raspy but clear enough to understand again as I detached myself from Sage and his soothing warmth. I swayed on my feet, but I could stand by myself. “There’s something really bad here that keeps trying to… it was trying to... ugh, my head really hurts.”

“Take a moment, remember your meditations.” Felix said gently as I clutched at my head. “We’re going to the infirmary, just over…” He trailed off, looking confused. “I was… we were just following Sage.”

Sage pointed down the hall, exasperatedly. “Yeah, it’s just down there, through the…the uh, the…”

“Exactly.” I nodded, testing my feet. I felt sturdy again as I felt warm thrums in my chest clear the residual effects, soft like a breeze loosening away the cobwebs in my head. It was soft and sweet, like wind stirring morning grass. Was that my own magic? Could it be the Astrolabe sensing I was in trouble?

My mind felt clearer now, the strain between my temples subsiding. “Something’s kept us from seeing Celena. We need to back downstairs. Right now.”

“How did we end up here to begin with?”

I rolled my shoulders, half ignoring Felix. “There’s a magical bullshitter nearby and we fell for it. We have to go to the infirmary.”

Sage growled, one of those deep things that happened in his chest that reminded me of a wild animal. “This is why I don’t like magic. C’mon you weirdos, lets go.”

Just as Felix passed by me, I remembered the letter I was supposed to give to him. “Oh hey! Sorry, I meant to give this to you.”

He turned, arching a brow. I yanked the letter out of one of my coat pockets and thrust it into his hands. “Anisa said something about a mixup.”

He held the letter in pinched fingers, staring morosely at the wax seal.

If I wasn’t so desperate to run downstairs and catch up with Sage, I would have said something. But I didn’t. As I dashed down the stairs, I heard a distinct whuff of flame and crackling paper. I glanced behind me as Felix was shaking off the ashes from his hands, looking vaguely ill.

~*~

Anisa was pacing back and forth in front of a relatively small chapel, the very one I’d jogged past several times. Now that it was in front of me, I felt stupid for not remembering where it was at first. It was it’s own building within Mournfall, and the evidence of it’s fortifications still showed through the years. The heavy wooden doors were reinforced with iron in a weave pattern that looked like it must have been manipulated and interlaced with magic so that it was hard to really pinpont where nature met metal. Two sets of empty hooks were set on each side, as though entire trees were meant to slot into them as a barricade. Strange. Shouldn’t those be on the inside of the building?

The surrounding stone was ash white, yet blackened near the foundations, pockmarked by magical blasts. Even the dense wood was lined with the sickened tendrils of lichen colored warp, cracked and gnarled around old soot. As soon as Anisa saw us approach, she let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank the gods! What took you all so long? I was getting worried.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” I said flatly before either Felix or Sage could get a word in. “How is Celena?”

She hesitated, which made my hands curl tight at my sides. “She’s been…unresponsive. Our head physician is attending to her—“

I pushed past her, shoving the at the extraordinarily heavy doors. I heaved all my strength into opening them.

“Zephyr!”

“Let her go,” I heard Felix say as I grunted with another push, my feet sliding as the doors groaned and expanded outwards, just enough to for me to squeeze though. Damn, shouldn’t these be easier to get through?

The infirmary wasn’t much more than a long, dimly lit hall that smelled of antiseptic and lavender, ribbed on each side with a dozen rows of trim empty cots on each side of an aisle, each empty and tidily kept with fresh tucked linens. White marble floors married against cedar panels lining the lower half of the walls. Over the high wooden brims, however, were banks of tall, stained glass windows depicting various constellations that were entirely unfamiliar to me. Just another reminder that I was a very, very far away from home.

Wooden beams soared above to a peak of thin brown rafters. As I marched between the aisles, my boot heels clomping steadily against marble, I got the feeling of walking along the spine of the empty chest cavity of an ancient, enormous skeleton.

The air was chilled, despite the early summer warmth outside, making the sweat on my body congeal like a clammy second skin. I kept my focus forward, to the man sitting in a rickety chair at the far back, near the foot of a long curtain that hung on rails attached to a tall, hooked rod.

His lanky body arched over an enormous book splayed open in his lap, one bony hand taut around a fountain pen. He was draped in shabby gray robes that appeared smudged over him like smeared strokes of charcoal. The book he was scribbling over was densely tabbed with mismatched-colored notes that clung to the edges of the pages like angular feathers of too many scattered thoughts. I stopped a few steps away, near enough to hear the steady scrape of his quill etching stark black ink in even, thin script across the dry paper.

He didn’t look up at my approach, instead letting me stand before him like a polite idiot. As soon as I summoned a breath to speak, he tapped a dot on his book and said, “Be not afraid. Celena rests, safe as kittens. A bit malnourished, but nothing a saline drip and a few good bowls of porridge can’t fix.”

“Uh,” I swallowed lamely as he reverently closed his book and set it aside before rising. He loomed over over me (which again, wasn’t hard to do), a wiry figure of calm thoughtfulness with deep-set dark eyes in a creased face that held a gentle wisdom as he looked over me. He had a tenuous appearance between middle-aged and sprightly older-built, depending on how the shafts of light filtered through the colored glass hit him. But his fathomless expression belied a deep wealth of certainty that made me feel a bit out of my depth.

“Ah, yet another one of your kind. The Relics certainly don’t stop at anything to find their chosen.” He spoke with a dry, accentless clarity. “I hope your arrival wasn’t as traumatic as it was for your friend here.”

“Is she okay?” I asked.

“Her body is safe and sound.” He breathed in a sigh. “Alas, that’s the least of our concerns.”

The hurried footsteps behind me alerted me of Anisa’s presense. She halted with a quick bow to the odd man. "Zephyr, this is our head physician, Hugh Hunnicutt. He oversees all of our medical needs here in Mournfall."

He gave a genial scoff and a bashful wave. “The acolytes run this clinic these days, not I. It’s wonderful to see you doing so well, Knight Lieutenent.”

“Thank you for looking after Celena,” I interrupted, pointedly glancing at the long curtain. “I’d really like to talk with her now.”

He peered down at me through slender gold-rimmed glasses perched at the bridge of his long nose. I resisted the urge to squirm. “I understand you are the newest Starsworn recruit. Zephyr, yes?”

I nodded, unable to keep from swallowing apprehensively. Why did this guy make me feel like I was in the school principle’s office?

He tutted. “I’ll be frank, I take no pleasure to have the Starsworn in my clinic once again. However, our newest guest needs special attention.”

I huffed. “Is. Celena. Okay?”

“Yes. And no.”

After a moment of silence, my gaze fell back on the white curtain shrouding a bed. I stepped forward before a heavy hand fell on my shoulder. I glared up at Sage. “What?”

He glanced between me and Hunnicutt before speaking. “Just…don’t get your hopes up. She was really out of it when I found her.”

“How did you come across Celena?” Anisa asked, not bothering to hide the suspicion from her voice.

Sage looked a little disappointed, like we’d all forgotten his birthday or something. “I’m a bounty hunter, remember? Finding people is my whole thing. I put feelers out for a girl who might look out of place—Pale, frilly dress, yaddda yada.”

“Wait,” I spun around to look at him, unabashedly curious. “You were looking for Celena this whole time?”

Sage waved dismissively. “Got lucky, is all.”

I was aghast, a grin creeping up around my mouth. This mercenary, who’d for all I’d known was just another skeezy jock, had actually gone out to find Celena. Just because I’d confessed my worries over a few card games. “When you said something about ‘a girl in town’…I can’t believe you didn’t say anything until now!”

“You didn’t ask.” He said. Obviously.

Hunnicutt gently ahemed, and that was enough to shut all of us up. “Regardless, our patient is in a catatonic state. Her reactions to stimulus has resulted in mixed signals—“

I shoved past everyone to the curtain. I had to know for myself. If she was unresponsive, I had only myself to blame. If I hadn’t touched the Relic, would she have taken my place? Stranded, but at least whole? Would I have ended up a roaming spirit, reduced to shouting through the void at anyone that could hear me?

I ripped the curtain back.

Celena perched in the center of a sparsely blanketed cot with her back facing us. Her shiny lilac head bowed low, exposing the ridges of her spine that her dress couldn’t hide. Her hands lay folded in her lap, like awaiting a doctor to return with a dreaded prognosis. I took a couple steps around the cot, peering around to get a better look at her.

“Celena?”

She turned her head at my intrusion.

I jerked backwards. Her face was vacant. Slack of anything that might inidcate that there was anything underneath, nothing to animate her features. It was like watching a dead-eyed doll twist it’s head to look at me.

The breath escaped out of me in a flood of weakness that started from my head to my toes. Somehow, seeing her made the gravity of the situation land heavier. We were a long way from home. And not only was I totally, completely fucked, but so was she.

The strength in my legs left me. I fell to my knees at her feet, grabbing her hands in mine. “Celena! Can you hear me? Can you say something?”

She only stared. Something about it was so wrong. I waved my hand in front of her eyes, snapping my fingers next to her eyes and ears. No reaction. I shook her hands, my voice breaking. “Please say anything!”

A hand on my shoulder made me jump. Hunnicutt carefully pulled me away, his expression warily pinched, fixed on her even as he led me back to the others. “She’s been dormant since she was admitted, yet still responsive to stimuli. She exhibits some presence of non-cognitive functions—pupils dialating to simuli, occasional vocalizations, normal sleep-wake cycles. ”

“Wait,” I said, looking at Hunnicutt. “Vocalizations?”

His demeanor was calm, but he pulled the sheet curtain back to obscure Celena from us once again. For a second I thought I caught Celena jerk her chin to the rushing sound of fabric before Hunnicutt blocked my view. “This is why I called you all here.”

He met the concerned gazes of everyone in the room with a well practiced steadiness. “Celena is exhibiting a state of emptiness that is unique to those that have had their soul displaced. Her physical state is stable and healthy, but, ah—allow me the use of the expression used in this country; ‘the lights aren’t on upstairs’.”

I felt myself fall backwards, my butt hitting the edge of an empty cot. I gripped the edges to steady myself.

“Can you do anything to help her?” Anisa asked, though her voiced sounded far away. I shook my head, trying to focus on the words being said.

“I’ve done what I can, but my abilities are best suited on the tangible, not the incorporeal.” Hunnicutt paused, his nose twitching. He was looking at me intently. “There is one thing that is most unusual.”

I glanced at Anisa, to Felix, to Sage, then back to Hunnicutt. “Well? Don’t keep us in suspense.”

The physician tucked his hands at the small of his back, his feature indicating a strange curiosity. “Upon admittance, I assessed her vitals and ascertained her health. But during examination, she occasionally…hummed.”

“Hummed?” Felix repeated, pushing away from the wall. “What was she humming?”

Hunnicutt shook his head, taking off his glasses and pulling a soft square of fabric from his pocket to polish them. “Nothing I could recognize. At first I’d thought it was the ancient Rivath anthem. Strange in an of itself, as most of modern society has never heard it after Rivath secluded ages ago. Besides that, the cadence and notes were terribly off. The onset of these musical spells have no predictability, rhyme or reason. If I was certain that her soul was intact and lingering, then perhaps—“

What if her spirit is still around?” I asked. “What if it’s trying to go back inside her?”

The silence that followed was almost too harrowing. Hunnicutt breathed in deep, in and out, like he was preparing to let me down easy. “For now, it’s beyond my capabilities. We must wait and see. Now if you’ll all allow me, I must attend to the situation in the barracks.”

Anisa frowned, then rolled her eyes. “Oh gods, I hope it’s not another hazing ritual.”

“I do not envy your role, Knight Lieutenant.” Hunnicutt winked.

She scoffed genially. “I don’t envy yours either.”

Sage yawned loudly. “Well this has been fun and all, but I’ve got some parties waiting for me at a bar. Cheers, everyone!” And with that, he left after Hunnicutt and Anisa down the hall.

Felix scoffed. “One track mind, that one.”

“I can’t blame him. He did do the heavy lifting for me by finding my friend.”

“Ah. Well,” Felix outstretched his arm. “Join me for tea? I’ve an interesting volume about tachyons that we can discuss—“

“Actually, I’d like to stay here.” I said. “I’d like to have a moment with Celena.”

Felix looked a bit crestfallen. “Ah, but she’s—“

“I know.” I said firmly. “I’d still like to be around someone from my own world. Just for a little bit.”

He held my gaze for a moment, then nodded. “I understand.” We stood there for a moment. His mouth moved, like he was about to say something else. I looked away.

He fell silent, looking down at something near his feet. “I’ll meet you in Anisa’s—ah, erhm, I’ll see you soon.”

The heavy doors shut, and felt a wave of relief. I knew they all meant well. But some things I just could never share with them.

I hung my head down enough so that my chin rested against my chest, wondering what I would even say to Celena. Could she even hear me, if I wanted to speak to her? I had to try. With a sigh, I turned back to head back to the end of the hall.

Celena stood directly in front of me.

I flinched, my back hitting the doors. “Jeez, what the fuck?”

Her vacant eyes made her seem doll-like. How the hell hadn’t I heard her creep up? How was she moving? “Celena?”

Both of her hands shot out and wrapped around my throat, crossing her thumbs over my larynx.

And squeezed.

Chapter 10

Notes:

Everybody stop and go check out this art that @Spiderlegeyelashes did for this story!

Shazam!

Twice As Bright

Aslo, KABLAMO!

Ch 5 Twice As Bright

ALSO:
TW: Graphic depictions of strangulation and violence.

“Cele—”

Her grip tightened around my throat, choking off my next words.

Panic surged through me. I raked my fingernails at Celena’s shockingly icy hands as they seared into my skin. Freezing vapor cascaded down her body in waves, condensing into droplets that fell in diluted snow drips onto floor between us.

I tried to garble a plea that should have sounded like, “Celena, stop! It’s me, your cosmic cosplay co-pilot!”—but all the sentiment came out in gargled words that dribbled around my lips.

My cheeks swelled. My vision blurred as my eyes felt like they were bulging out of my sockets. I kicked and struggled, nails dragging red welts across her pale arms. The tips of my fingers felt sticky, and I was only distantly aware of what the undersides of my nails were filling with.

With a desperate burst of strength, I grabbed her wrist, punching against the inside of her elbow. Once. Twice. Again and again, throwing all my weight into breaking free. But she held on with ten slim iron bands locked around my neck.

I pawed at her face, striking her with weaker and weaker attempts. My fingers felt thick, disconnected, sluggishly pathetic as the blood flow to my brain slowed. My nail caught against her ear, tearing out an earring from the tip of her earlobe and sent it tinkling away. She made no movement to even flinch, even as the blood trickled down her neck.

She wrenched me close, so our faces were almost touching now, but I couldn’t feel her breath. Not a single puff of exertion over my skin, just the frigid chill falling off of her and crusting frost around her eyelashes.

I fought for air, gaining only reedy slivers of it. Help! I frantically reached for magic, summoning energy into my palm—

Celena’s head snapped sideways, a feral twisting in her mouth as she released one hand to slam my wrist against the door beside my head. Excruciating pain exploded through my arm, making me scream. The impact cut off my spell with a brutal finality.

That wretchedly familiar pain—Haedus had done this to me not that long ago. The sudden severing of magic felt like electric splinters driving under my fingernails and snaking into my nerves. I made a broken animal sound, but Celena was deaf to it. Her hand found my throat again, shoving me harder against the door. Her thumb pressed over my windpipe, and I felt my throat crunch.

A bright snap of pain spiked down through me. A frigid spear of terror overwhelmed me and then condensed into a single moment that stretched out thin for far too long. I can’t fall here, I have to keep going…I can save myself. In that eternity, I found a tiny, shining sliver of myself that I never knew I was missing. Disconnected, but it was still right there.

But first, I spasmed with the kind of squirming ache that makes a person crawl smaller within. It was something humiliatingly primal, abhorrent as knowing, feeling, that my parents would mourn my loss without a body to show for it, without anything to show for the years of love and patience endured. I could die here…I could actually die here…

As the pain eviscerated through me, I felt something else branching out though my limbs in the after effects, a clean bright flow that made my heart stutter to a different rhythm.

The fresh fear and frustration still roared through me, fueling a wild tornado of energy that wasn’t quite my own. It shone through my flesh and veins, like covering a flashlight under a blanket. I couldn’t even begin to identify it, much less control it before it erupted through my skin in bristling shards of something godly—

The shockwave rippled out of me and through the room, blowing through the tattered mess of Celena’s frilly dress. Empty cots blustered across the floor with metallic screeches. The force of it knocked her hands away.

Even as blood guttered under my tongue, relief and spiteful retribution flooded through me. Blazing instinct took over and invigorated me into the cool tactician mentality I’d used when going into a boss fight. I knew how to steel myself before taking on an enemy that I was out-leveled by. And my mom didn’t raise a quitter.

I propelled against the door, slamming my shoulder into her stomach. It was enough that she lost her footing and tumbled backwards. We fell together into a pile that I rolled through, shaking my long hair out of my face with a wave of nausea. She hissed, trying to latch onto my hands. But it was my turn to take over. I found her slim wrists and smashed them down beside her head. For once, I was turning the tables. Now, this fight could go my way.

My pulse pounding in my ears as I held her down, breathing too erratically to pay attention to anything else. The pain in my throat diminished somewhat, and that should have worried me. It was like the phantom of her fist was still lodged in my throat, a problem that really needed my attention but kept slithering away from the forefront of my attention. I fought against the instinct to touch my neck.

Celena thrashed like a wild animal, her short lilac hair whipping around her cheeks. Her eyes locking onto mine, grunting with noises that could have been with fury or agony, though her stare remained so dead and empty. I spat a rope of crimson next to her head, letting it spatter and dribble over my teeth and down my lips. “I’m not afraid of you.”

For a moment, her expression twitched, her cheeks rippling with involuntary spasms as she wheezed, like her face couldn’t decide what it wanted to do.

I hesitated, swallowing over the searing bile building up in my esophagus, gritting my teeth together. “Celena?”

I felt oddly distant from the rest of me. All those late nights studying, all the pages of scribbling notes, daily sparring sessions followed by afternoon lectures— it had to mean something right now! I refused to be useless when it mattered most. That stubborn resolve kept me upright on shaking limbs, even as the edges of my vision blurred with creeping darkness. Black spots flickered before my eyes, the whispers of spirits threatening to pull me under. I blinked through hot tears, rubbing them off on my shoulders.

“Celena,” I rasped as my broken throat worked around the wet sounds my words made. “Are you…still…with me?”

She lunged up at me, snapping her teeth with loud white clacks. I shoved her back down with a knee against her shoulder, but the rest of my body wanted to crumple around her. I was running up my stamina. This had to be a side effect of the magic I’d used before.

I knew if I fainted here, I’d lose control. If I lost control, I’d…where would I end up? Would I fade against the backdrop of endless whispers? Or would I go back home? Back to feeling sorry for myself, crying over some guy that didn’t want me, clinging to the rickety scaffolding holding my life together?

I shook my head hard, making me only slightly more dizzy.

No. I refused to be just another nameless casualty. I refused to return to the mess I used to be, making overpriced coffee for rich tech executives that didn’t even bother looking at me when I made them their drink. Here in Astraea, I was something more, something that sprung hope to not just the masses that the Starsworn had saved. But to Anisa, and Felix, and perhaps mostly Sage. I thought there was a reason to why his light of his Relic was so occluded, I just didn’t know what it was yet. But I could learn.

Celena started bashing the back of her head against the floor, her eyes wide and bloodshot as the impact of her skull against the floor made me flinch. I shoved my palm behind her head to keep her from hurting herself further. Her teeth bared at me, but finally her lips worked in some semblance of words.

“Zzzzzeeeefff!”

“Celena!” I said, gripping tighter. “I’m right here.”

She pressed her head against mine, baring her teeth as the back of her mouth gleeked droplets onto my face. “You…don’t…hhgghh…have to…save me.”

A little part of my heart broke.

She ripped out of my grasp and reached out with claw-like fingers that made me fall back onto her lap, and I yanked backwards, her nails missing my face by an inch. I swatted at her hands, clutched them hard against my chest. “Let me try!”

“Zuh—Zephyr!” She hiccupped, blinking, like it took so much out of her to do it. For a moment she looked shocked, blinking rapidly, like she couldn’t believe she was looking into my eyes. Her lips moved, breathing something out I could make out. She was breathing again!

I leaned in. “What? What are you saying?”

Her eyes were already going vacant, but her mouth still moved.

I knew I shouldn’t, she was still far too volatile to predict what she would do next. But I leaned down, putting my ear next to her mouth, and listened to the small breaths she made.

“N—n-neither…he’s going to kill you, he wants to take it back! Zephyr, you have to... F-fate or…I can’t hold on—“

“Celena!” I shook her shoulders. “Celena! Stay with me!”

Her head lolled, but she managed to whisper. “Zephyr…like the wind.”

I blinked though the hot haze of tears welling up in my eyes, trying to smile through the taste of blood seeping through my teeth. “I always knew you were here. You just have to hold on.”

I rose up to my knees to embrace her, but a thick shape in my throat slicked back into place. I gagged, suddenly feeling all the blood that had ran down my throat and into my stomach start to revolt. My concentration broke, leaving me open for her next attack. But my neck, my throat, was…healed! Even now I could feel the tingling sensation working. Just like in Anisa’s office. I hadn’t even noticed it doing it’s thing this whole time.

All too soon, her features twisting between hatred and fear and churned into…something else entirely. Dark oily slicks bloomed over her eyes until it was I was looking into black mirrors.

She smirked, then shoved me away with a new power that I only knew through the smell of it.

Burnt matches, underlined with a sheaf of snow falling from green juniper branches, and…marshmallows?

Where the fuck did that image come from?

Celena swept herself up, shaking herself off with way too much more attitude than had been there before. She looking down her nose at me with a curled lip and blackened eyes. Her voice became clear, silky with haute malice. “Nice try. A little saccharine, for my tastes. But I guess that’s the best that a girl like you can give.”

No, no. Celena.

My brain felt swollen, like the world’s worst hangover. I gagged around the stench of my stomach contents rising, thin copper lacing around my mouth. I held my hand against my stomach, wheezing. “You leave her alone.”

Celena cocked her hip, scoffing with a manic delight. The demeanor was all wrong. “Or else what? You’re not in any place to make demands.”

I fell back into a crouch, glaring up at her with watering eyes. “I want my friend back.”

“You want this girl?” Celena mockingly pointed at herself, then traced the outline of her body with her pale fingertips, exploring the curves of her slim waist and over the round of her hips. “Why don’t you riddle me this first, Zephyr-like-the-wind: Did you ever think to ask whether Celena even wants to go back home with you? Or are you just projecting your own needs onto this blank statement of a girl, that you don’t even really know?”

I felt the encroaching darkness return around my vision. “That’s…not even a riddle.”

The enormously heavy doors heaved open against ancient hinges, and I heard Anisa shout. “What in the—Oh gods, Zephyr!”

Celena blew her hair out of her eyes. “Well, you know what they say about crowds. Ta-tah, for now.”

She blew a kiss at me. Then, as if all her strings were cut, she collapsed in a heap of limbs.

I rose up to my feet as I turned to face Anisa, Felix, and Sage. Despite this strange interaction, I felt a strange sense of pride blossoming in my chest. They came back for me. They actually came back.

“You’re here!” I couldn’t help but grin, feeling the dried blood on my mouth and chin crack over skin. “’Bout time.”

Anisa and Sage both lunged at me as the world tilted sideways. The stained-glass windows swirled in kaleidoscopes around me…

~*~

Orange cones of streetlights drifted over me. The car radio emanated a scratchy tune that was so familiar but didn’t belong in the moment. I felt like I should have had a keyboard or a controller in my hands, so that I could reorient the camera over me. Lacking all that, I instead sank into the comforting rumble, using my arm as a pillow against the passenger window, as the car drove over the crest of a hill. I made some series of noises that probably sounded like, “Are we home yet?”.

“Whoa!” I heard Zach’s voice yell, and the car swerved hard, making my head jostle. I grimaced as I heard him shout, “What the fuck—“

I squinted over to him in the drivers seat, expecting to see the handsome shamble of the man I’d called mine for a year. Instead, the seat was vacant, the steering wheel sliding to one side. I sat up in alarm, reaching out to grab the steering wheel before we could careen into our deaths—and there, greeted by a sea of glittering lights, the jagged city skyline that I’d called home rose out of the flat waters of the bay. It all emerging from a darkly blazing horizon, illuminated with a blood red full moon rising from the peaks of skyscrapers—

Zephyr!

“Celena?” I glanced at the back seat, searching for…I had no idea what I was looking for. The car was empty except for me. A familiar healing warmth bloomed through of me. The dark before the titanic wave of oblivion crept into me, first through my shoes and up my legs. The streetlights swept over the car until it blanketed over me with feelings of heartache and remorse—

Don’t you dare leave me here alone!

Celena’s words were drowned out by a thousand cathedral whispers. “I feel like I’ve done this before.” I whispered as I gripped onto the passenger side handle, that felt like cool metal instead of the plastic siding. There was something important I had to do. Something I couldn’t, wouldn’t leave unfinished.

That’s right. I had to save my friend from a demon.

I jolted backwards, ripping through the metal cage of the car and flying away, like a parachute had just deployed. I was flung through the black sky, through misty stars and and familiar whispers…

~*~

I gasped, my cheek pressed against cold marble. My hand squeezed instinctively around a slender rod that resonated with a beautiful hum. It felt warm, like my hand had always belonged there. I blinked hard as my vision came back, trying to make out this ethereal light shining in my face. Spiraling gold discs ticked around the intricately etched surfaces of shining gold rings that spun in cycles to the rhythm of my hearbeat.

All at once, I knew exactly what was happening. I was in Astraea. It was late evening. I was holding the Astrolabe. And Celena was possessed by a demon.

I exhaled slowly, wasting another moment to marvel at the waves of iridescent healing spreading through me. I pushed myself off the ground, finding my friends in a circle around Celena, weapons drawn. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, because the resonant twang of my Relic was so overpowering.

The immensity of holding something so massively powerful grew hot and lively. It felt like it was beating divine wings against metal rungs of a cage, fighting for release out of my body. The staff hummed through me, its warm energy filling every corner of my being. I felt light, whole, and clearer than ever before. I am me again. I have become what I was always meant to be.

With a trembling breath, I struck the marble floor with the haft of the Astrolabe as I leaned on it to stand. The impact crushed into the floor, sending a ripple across the room, rattling stained glass windows in its frames. I hauled myself to my feet and faced Celena—or the thing wearing her face.

I heard the voices of my friends around me, but those voices were beneath me now. Only the aspects of the Relics they bore remained.

And they shone brilliantly. I recognized Sage lingering behind us, his specter occluded just as it was before when I first saw him for what he was. If he only knew how to release those pieces of himself—

With my light vision, I saw the thing behind Celena’s eyes. A demonic leech, a black tendril wrapping sickly tight around her, curled defensively around her heart.

Celena’s face twisted in fury, her greasy hair hanging limp around wild, darting eyes. Her tattered dress dangled from her shoulders, and she hissed with a venom that her mouth didn’t contain. Whatever controlled her was holding back, skirting the light that I was becoming.

It feared me.

The Astrolabe’s power surged through me, filling my veins with brightness I’d never experienced before. It was as easy as breathing, to hold this power so close. Is this real magic? My whole body thrummed with restless energy, desperate for release—for more.

I basked in it’s warmth, cushioning and consuming, until my edges blurred in vibrations that made my ears and brain buzz. It didn’t matter. I could become the dawn itself, crest my healing light over this single wretched planet. Over this neglected slice of the world. My throat, my body—every ache I’d ever known—mended by the power I held within. I felt…so light. Weightless. I could bathe the world in this beautiful bliss, if I wished it.

Murmured prayers tickled my ears, faint and familiar. But they, too, were swallowed up by the roar of a new beginning, absorbed in the shimmering sliver cresting over the horizon. I held the stratagem of the future, the breath of a newborn day poised to awaken on this bald planet. I could shear through the corruption of this world, and flood all existence with a relentless healing tidal wave of renewal that would reshape the spaces between the stars so that the even the Night Mother would fear to tread upon the black yearning before the summer of her agony—

“Zephyr!”

Anisa yanked me back down onto my feet. The light roared like storm clouds in my ears, resisting, pulling at me with its endless warmth and vibrancy and promises of divinity. I could be more—

She slapped my face.

I gasped, clutching my stinging cheek as the Astrolabe slipped from my grip, vanishing in a shimmering wisp. The vision I’d held, the feeling I’d had in my grasp…vanished. Fuck, my face really hurt!

Anisa met my eyes as she held my face in her gloved hands. “Zephyr?”

The pull of the stars faded, leaving me disoriented and hollow. The colors bleached into something normal, and I blinked up at her, my voice croaking out a single word. “Ow.”

Her shoulders sank in relief. “Oh, thank gods. You had me worried.”

“You hit me.” I said dumbly, rubbing the sting off my cheek. What the hell was I going on about?”

She smiled, pushing back the hair from my eyes with a soothing sweep of her thumb. “Well, someone had to.”

Without any more explanation, she hauled me up off the floor, a little too fast, making my feet scramble for purchase. I squeezed my eyes open and shut, over and over, trying to shake the weird off as I held on to her clothes with weak fists. “What’s happening?”

Then I heard and felt what Felix was doing. “I’ll ask you only once. Kindly vacate that body at once.”

I looked over at him. Celena was baring her teeth at him in quick huffs of breath that made cold clouds around her face. Her body coiled around herself as she hissed something long and incoherent, the words bubbling spit around her lips. “—aaaate!”

“You’re not the first one to hate me.” Felix’s eyes began to glow green, as flames engulfed his hands. “And you’ll certainly despise what what I’ll do next.”

He flung his right hand upward, fingers splayed out like yanking up on marionette strings. Celena’s body lifted off the floor, arms and legs spread out as her head flung back in a silent scream. She gnashed her teeth into the air, her eyes spinning in their sockets. A creaking sound streamed from her throat as her limbs convulsed against invisible strains.

Somewhere to my right I hear the sing of metal leaving it’s sheathe, and then Sage was yelling. “Is someone going to banish this demon or am I gonna have to do it the old fashioned way?”

“Wait!” I croaked, but my head felt ready to roll off my body. “Wait.”

Felix walked a slow pace around her, his face illuminated with foxfire over an impassive expression as he studied her. “A proxy possession. What a clever bit of spellwork, hiding the signature behind another vulnerable spirit. This is a kind of cruelty we cannot abide.”

Celena’s mouth worked, dragging her front teeth over her lower lips, over and over again. “Fah-Fah—“

“Felix!” I shouted, leaning away from Anisa. “That’s not her, but I think she’s trying to break through!”

“I don’t think he cares right now, Zeph.” Sage growled, though he kept his sword angled down.

Felix ignored us, making an artful motion with his fingers that laid glowing sigils in the air. “Pity I’ll have to break this design. I’d have loved to meet your maker. But just as we all must return to the ether, your grip on this individual is about to come to an end.”

He slowly twisted his hand, like unscrewing a lightbulb. Her head jerked in the same direction, popping several joints as she howled sharply. The rest of Celena’s body tried to follow in mid-air as her head kept turning around. Felix exhaled with a strange green, grinning mania. “Yet there might be some use for you.”

A sound jarred within me, like a tuning fork clacking onto the ground. “Felix, don’t!”

Celena’s voice split into a long, horrifically dual-toned scream. “FATE!”

Felix flinched, pulling his hand back. “What did you say?”

She sank in mid-air, her head lolling down.

“What are you doing Felix?!” Anisa shrieked. “Just banish it!”

A part of me could still see the way the whorls of the universe were twirling together, winding tight into a focal point, spinning and centering onto this moment. And I knew it had to stop. “Felix, for fucks sake, let it go! Leave her alone!”

Felix clawed both his hands into a facimile of jaws, digits aflame with neon green flames, slowly pulling them apart with great effort.

Celena shrieked as her limbs appeared to stretch. The tension in the air snapped, whiplashing me like a sharp strike behind my eyes. Felix and Anisa flinched as if struck, as Celena dropped onto the hard marble in a heap. Black ichor drained out of her eyes, her nose, her mouth, into rivers that laked down and around her body.

The darkness swirled into the air like ink made airborn, winding up and around Felix’s fingers. It coalesced into an oily black globe floating above his upturned palm.

I reached out and threw my magic into his. Felix’s eyes blazed brighter than ever, his mouth exhaling a kind of mist that glowed with its own shimmer. Without even a glance at me, I felt his magic push away at mine. I fell back into myself, falling against Anisa’s chest.

The stagnating energy in the room broke like a fever, dripping away in florescent shimmers. Splatters of verdant iridescent flames clung to the walls. leaving slimy gossamer tendrils in thick lines. My vision was failing me, returning to normal, then fading darker and darker.

“My kingdom for a moment’s peace when it comes to you fools—“

Felix quickly stuffed the globe under his coat, making it vanish as he stood up to attention.

I lolled my head to the entrance. Hugh Hunnicutt stormed in, and Sage leaped aside to let him through. The air around him crackling under the intensity of his fury. He held a loose leash on the deep thunder he carried with him, as he stepped carefully around Celena’s crumpled form. He knelt, brushing his fingers across her hair as she panted, her eyes still staring vacantly at the ceiling.

"You reckless fool," Hunnicutt growled, his voice echoing like dragged slabs of concrete through an empty chamber. "Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? You proclaim yourself a master of magic, yet you play games with my patients?"

Felix had a fearful, admonished expression. He tucked the edges of his coat around himself. “Sir, I had it under control.”

“Don’t inflate your actions with a devil’s rationale! Do you remember why we fortified our hospital? Or have you forgotten how easily the demon-sickness can spread? Why are you still so reckless, Felix Iskander Escellun? Are you your father’s son or are you Starsworn?”

Felix floundered for a moment, but something sparked in his eyes that made him grit his teeth together and speak from lower in his chest. “I’m not my father, Hunnicutt.”

Hunnicutt narrowed his eyes, and somehow all the light behind the stained glass windows dimmed. “Then stay out of my clinic. If I ever see you tamper with my patients again, I’ll make sure you regret ever leaving the hells you were wrenched from!”

Felix held himself poised, chin held up with an undefined determination, then swept out of the room. I couldn’t help but notice the drag of shadow wisps he left with every step.

“Aaaand, that’s our cue to leave.” Sage said, sliding his sword back into his sheath with a discomfited laugh. “Sorry to mess up your groove, Hunny. Promise it won’t happen again. We’re just gonna go politely fuck off now. Anisa?”

“One moment.” Anisa plucked a kerchief off her person, dabbing at my mouth and chin. I must have looked a sight. With my throat back to normal, I’d forgotten about the tackiness around my mouth. Then without another word, she scooped me up in her arms and started for the exit. I barely had two brain cells to rub together, so my head swam as I tried to protest. “But, what about—“

Sage ducked his head close to mine and spoke in a low voice. “You don’t have to trust me or Anisa or Felix, but you can trust Hunnicutt.”

He flicked a worried look back at the clinic as I heard the doors grind and slam shut. “He’s a good one, but he can get a little… possessive, about his patients.”

Anisa made a disgusted noise in her throat that I felt in her chest. “Really, Sage?”

He winced, scratching behind an ear. “Sorry, bad choice of words. But seriously, that guy doesn’t mess around. The only people safe from him are his patients.”

“You need to rest.” Anisa said against the crown of my head. “We can discuss what’s happened later”

~*~

We passed through the halls uneventfully. The soft glow of magical sconces drifted over my closed eyelids, and I kept hoping I’d hear Celena’s voice. As we reached Anisa’s office, I attempted to reclaim some dignity, demanding to be let down, if only to wobble over to the washbasin and rinse the blood from between my teeth and off my chin.

I staggered towards my makeshift bed, plopping artlessly onto the cushions. Anisa sat at the far side of the couch, lifting my feet and laying them back down on her lap as she unlaced my boots. I could hear her smile. “You summoned your Relic.”

“Is that why I feel like crap right now?” I mumbled under the pile of blankets that Sage helpfully dropped onto my head. Underneath them, I touched my throat again, feeling for anything unusual. I think I would have felt more normal if something felt wrong. Not the perfect structure I felt under my fingers now. I could have challenged them both to some karaoke and sang a perfect tune, if I had the energy to do it.

I dug myself out as Sage folded himself down on to the rug in front of us, cross legged and leaning backwards on the heels of his palms. “Well, there’s no denying it now. You’re a real Starsworn.”

I buried my face into an armful of blanket. “Why do I feel like the butt of a joke?”

Anisa had begun rubbing my feet. I had a vague memory of someone thinking feet were super gross, but it drifted away as the relaxation sank in.

“We’ve all been through the worst throes of our relic. But I must say the circumstances of yours make me admire you even more.”

For a moment I could say anything. This knight, this awesome woman in her own right, had a reason to admire…me? I swallowed hard. “What…what do you mean?”

Anisa threw me a look, as if it should be obvious. “You were defending your friend. Any friend of yours should be so lucky.”

Aw, fuck. I was too spent and too weak, and Anisa was about to make me cry.

“Also, did you know your eyes do this weird thing where they glow?”

I propped my head up in alarm. “What?”

Sage nodded. “Yeah, I felt your Relic, it was all glowing, and then your eyes and your voice were like ‘I am the dawn and light and I’m about to wreck your ass.’ It was kind of creepy, like something out of a legend about to go bad for all of us. You got really scary for a minute there.”

I laughed. “It think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He winked.

“Honestly,” Anisa cleared her throat and fixed a glare at Sage. “As far as everything went, I'm glad you're okay now.”

“Even though you had to smack some sense into me?”

Anisa actually frowned, a little bit of a blush forming. “Well, It’s not like I wanted to—“

“Oh come on,” Sage laughed. “Don’t tell me you never wanted to smack some sense into any of us before?”

“Not like this!” Anisa pouted. “And not for the same reasons I would love to put you in your place.”

“Hey, I thought we buried the hatchet!”

I definitely lost the grasp of the conversation after that. I felt safe here, around friends that had come back for me when I thought I might lose myself. I wondered what had happened, when I thought I was in the car with my ex. I wondered if Celena would remember what happened tonight.

But I fell asleep to the sounds of good friends bickering, and felt safer than I’d had in a long time.

Notes:

Sorry for the hiatus. A lot of IRL stuff has hit me very hard.

I'm still super into writing this story, and I'll do it to the end. Towards the ending that none of us got a resolution for.

Let me know what you think!

Chapter 11

Notes:

HEY THERE'S MORE ART ! IT GIVES ME LIFE! IT GIVES ME POWER! THANK YOU @Spiderlegeyelashes !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

'Twas was the night before Anisa’s last morning in Mournfall, and I was itching to get away from Felix so I could get some sleep. Our lessons spilled out into the evening, spanning from the courtyard and talking as we weaved through the halls, before we winded back into his office for tea. 

‘Tea’ included another lecture about thermodynamics that I half-heartedly nodded through, but at least he showed me how to circle my hand over a cup of liquid to turn it just the right temperature. 165 degrees Fahrenheit, or just about 73 celsius. I could gulp it down enough to pleasantly scald my mouth and wake me up. Way too hot than this tea deserved, but I wasn’t at work, so whatever. I was running on fumes.

It was a disappointingly earthy concoction without a single drop caffeine, like lichen scraped off wet tree bark. Was this some kind of weird chaga? Was Felix trying to punish me? What I wouldn’t give for a simple cold-brewed coffee.

Rambling aside, I kept glancing at the door, as if I could beckon it closer to me so I could make a quick escape. Hell, I’d have probably tried to make a break for it anyway if I wasn’t so damn polite. I’d planned on having breakfast with Anisa first thing in the morning, right before we all bid her safe travels with the ambassador from Rivath. But Felix kept segueing into topic after topic, staring through the panes of tinted glass toward the inky black lake. I was getting suspicious about his motives for keeping our discussions going for far longer than usual.

We still hadn’t addressed what had happened in the clinic, leaving that elephant waiting in the corner of the room. It’d been weighing on me, along with other things, throughout the various spells that tested me in new ways. I felt like he was packaging me up for something. But every time I tried to break from the curriculum, he immediately launched into a new tangent. We were stuffing so much into a single evening that it felt like I was running out of time to cram for finals.

“Listen, I’m running out of steam here.”

“Just one more spell!” He said, holding a finger up in the air as he flicked through pages, letting his teacup spin in midair. 

I shuddered at the thought. We’d just spent the last hour refining a linguistic spell to help me decipher foreign spellbooks. The effects…decidedly did not mesh well. I’d only just shaken off the uncontrollable gibbering mess of overlapping Earth and Astraean languages. I’d known what I’d wanted to say, but I couldn’t understand a third of the words coming out of my own mouth, and Felix had enjoyed a scholarly dissection of my panicked vocabulary until the spell settled down like silt on my tongue. I kept expecting to hiccup another bizarre configuration of sounds at any moment. 

“Do we really have to? I’m starting to feel like a lab specimen.”

“How else can we learn if we don’t push through a few more intellectual boundaries?”

“People set boundaries for a reason.” I groaned, massaging my jaw. Then out of nasty resentment I muttered under my breath, “Not that you seemed to care about that when Celena was in trouble.”

Felix tensed. Good, I was getting tired getting jerked around. Maybe pushing the right buttons would get me somewhere. “Or would you prefer to experiment on someone who can’t resist you? Is it easier when the people you ‘experiment’ on cant fight back?”

He jerked back in shock. He swallowed hard, voice becoming strained. “What are you implying? You cannot seriously think that about me, can you?”

“Your actions spoke louder than your rhetoric back there in the clinic.” I straightened myself up. “She was helpless, and you weren’t listening to us when she was in clear pain—“

“She asked me to draw the demon out! By any means necessary.”

I froze. “What?”

"She begged for reprieve." He exhaled sharply. "Any necromancer worth a damn can hear the spirits in this gods-forsaken mausoleum of a castle we reside in. It's a cacophony of restlessness! I did everything I could to extract the spirit overtaking her." 

“She actually told you to…”

“Yes!”

Suddenly the afternoon lessons we held at noon took on a different perspective. As eerie as I found the soft whispers of spirits at night, Felix couldn’t sleep with a cacophony of all them yelling in his ears. No wonder why he took a back seat in all our lessons. He was always exhausted.

So many emotions scattered over his features, until they settled into an indignant curl to his lip. “How polite of you to save your scathing remarks for after I’ve plucked Celena’s soul from the hands of a malicious thief. You are most certainly welcome, by the way, for preserving her life. You got what you wanted, after all.”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. I don’t know if you noticed all the blood, but I was busy getting wrecked by your new pet demon. And what I wanted was my friend safe! Not the empty shell that she is right now. You just…you seemed so much more eager to capture the thing possessing her than whether or not your methods were hurting her in the process. And what was it all for?”

He pressing his lips together, breathing in and out his nose as he stared ahead at the wall, breathing in and out with patient beats. “With all due respect, my dear barista, I must point out that your cavalier tone with me has become a tad too familiar.”

I growled in frustration, clawing my fingers through my hair. “Fine. You’re right. I should be grateful, especially since I couldn’t have done anything to help her on my own. But I still think you be careful about playing with demons.”

He clapped Elegy together and tucked it into the book holster he always held at his hip. “We…don't have to do this. This study of magic. You’ve beheld so much power on your own, and while my desire was to guide you through your discoveries, I will not hold you hostage to learn it all under my discretion, particularly if my methods offend you so.”

I knew I was being petty, but I was still pissed. “What other option do I have? You dragged me into this with your broody magic at the expense of ruining your 'reputation'—“

“Do you think this is a game for me?” His voice cut through mine. “There is no simple formula to fix what has happened. I bear the unenviable burden of breaking and restructuring a spell that was five years in the making! And what do I have to show for it? Is it so much to ask you to suspend your disbelief for now? Do you have it in you to believe that I might actually be wracking my mind, my magic, and all of my abilities to the very bleeding edge to help you reach your goals?”

He’d never been this angry at me before. It made me falter. My resentment still simmered, but now shame curled up in my gut. 

“Fuck.” I shoved my chair back and started to slowly pace around the office.

“I need your aid in all this. Zephyr.” It felt weird when he used my name instead of the moniker he always addressed me by. “I’m not your enemy.”

“No, no, I know you’re taking so much time and effort to teach me—and you’ve helped me a lot. I’ve just…Every time I feel like I’m getting closer to what I want, the rug gets yanked out from under me. I don’t know how much more I can let go of before I see some results that stick around for more than a few minutes.” There. I said it. I dragged my hands across my face, rubbing at my eyes, unable to make more argumentative words happen. “I know it’s selfish. But that’s where I’m at right now.”

Instead of making an easy jab back at me, he plucked the spoon sticking out of the cup of sugar and dumping more of it into is own tea. Gross, how did he manage to drink that? Whatever, not my business.

Still, I got the feeling like he was mustering up the gumption to say something important. “I understand. But I can only work with my available resources. So tell me, is there anything else that you’re holding back?”

Oh god, not that question. How many times have I already asked myself that?

“I’ve been frustrated by not…” I inhaled, scrunching my face up in a sudden heat wave of embarrassment. Not realizing my potential? It was so much easier when it was a game when I could fuck up and all it meant was loading from the previous save point. When a real person’s life was at stake? Was it because when I’d finally tapped into the immense wellspring of my Relic’s power, I’d been immediately overwhelmed and nearly lost myself in the process? When I had my friends battles and accomplishments to measure myself up against?

“Part of it is not being able to live up to the sort of Knight that I see in you all. Like there are all these ideals that I need to learn and get used to and aspire towards.” 

Felix hummed as he leaned back in his chair, staring into his teacup. “We didn’t become these things overnight. It took years of training, and even when we prevailed…there was so much lost. There is no return to normalcy for us. It’s a cruel sentence after all we’ve gone through, to persevere, act as paragons of resilience. Yet our example has not been the most inspiring as of late. So why do you persevere?”

“It’s not that I don’t…” I struggled to find the right words. How I felt like I was scrambling to catch up on an entire branch of magical knowledge that I knew I couldn’t take back with me. What was I gonna use all this learned practice once I went back to my magicless home? And the lack of a timeline was something that aggravated me. How could he just yank me away from my life and expect me to be a nice little student? I was the accidental product of his forbidden ritual gone wrong. And he expected me to have faith in his teachings? 
 
I wanted to be angry with him. I wanted to grab him by his shirt and throttle the answers out of him. But I kept coming back to how he looked at me when we first met. Like my face wasn’t what he’d been hoping to see. He’d at least tried, despite how it went against the laws of this world. Necromancy wasn’t something to take lightly. And yet he did it anyway, because deep in his heart he wanted something—someone—so badly that he could ignore what the world would think of him. Despite everything, that was a kind of conviction that I could admire.

It was probably indicative of things I didn’t want to name for myself yet.

I just didn’t have it in me to sustain resentment. And it didn’t help that Felix was remarkably generous, even goofy in his own fastidious way. So I settled for a half truth. “It’s still a really hard adjustment for me. Getting used to living here, I mean. All the rules I used to live by don’t really apply anymore. I wish I could be what the Starsworn need. But I’m still feeling…untethered, in ways none of you can really understand.”

“I…” Felix tugged at his collar, doing everything he could to avoid looking into my face. I wished he would, so I could get a glimpse of whatever he really thought of how all this had gone. “I understand. Perhaps I’ve also been lost, in my own ways.”

That word again. Why did I find myself so offended whenever it was brought up? We sat in silence for a moment. I struggled to find something to say, something to bridge this abyssal trench between us.

He broke the silence first, his expression darkening with something that looked like deep regret. “Zephyr, I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely forthcoming with—ack!”

His arm launched out into the air, fingers splayed out like a spider caught in a gust of wind, hauling the rest of his body up with the movement. He stared at it like it didn’t belong to him.

I watched him for a tense moment. "What are you…are you doing some kind of power stance?"

He grabbed at his his wrist, and yanked against an invisible force, to no effect. "Oh, no. My apologies, my dear. What I wouldn't—”He grimaced as he pulled at his own arm, straining with every yank, but it was lodged firmly in the air. “Give, so that you, didn't, have to see this right now."

“Yeah, this is pretty weird. Should I, like, leave you to it, or…”

Before I could finish my sentence, he wrenched backwards towards his desk, making me flinch when the chair knocked over onto its side. His arm held him hostage, dragging him over to a sheet of parchment, where it slammed down next to a quill at his desk.

I shut my eyes and searched within, tapping into the power that shared my heart. It pounded twice as hard, jolting me into sharp clarity as my Relic activated. I blinked away the eye watering flush of color and detail, the sudden rush of texture and smell of the room. Dusty books, faded carpet, cracked cold stone stretching far around us—

I reeled back into myself, until I could focus on a shadowy figure leaning over Felix with a grip over his hand, utilizing it to scratch ink onto a sheet of paper.

Oh, hell nah. “Hey!”

The shadow lifted it’s head at me, fixing incandescent marsh lights for eyes onto me. Felix was gritting his teeth together, but he lifted a finger from his free hand in the air to halt me. “Don’t be alarmed! This will pass shortly.”

“What the fuck is that thing?” I demanded, panic lacing my tone.

“It’s almost over.” He breathed, like it pained him to say it. The shadow released it’s grasp on Felix’s hand with a flourish. It turned to me with those strange glowing eyes, nailing me to the spot. 

Oh, hell nah. I bared my teeth at it, feinting a flex. “What’s next? You wanna go?”

The shadow slowly inclined its head, as if in a salute, then evaporated into oily wisps.

I let go of my Relic’s energy in a rush of breath, leaving me breathless as the world lost it’s color into a palette that was more manageable. I rushed to Felix’s side. “Hey! Are you okay?”

He swiped the parchment away from his desk, letting it waft over the edge in zig-zags. He looked up at me with a tired look. “Did you know your eyes glow when you connect with your Relic?”

My mouth fell open. “I—what? I thought Sage was being—don’t change the subject!”

“It was rather marvelous.” He admitted in a long breath, then groaned as he crumpled. I seized his elbows and helped him sit back into his chair. I took the opportunity to peer over the desk and scan the surprisingly neat script on the parchment.

Felix, 

Return home at once. We have much to discuss. You know where to find me. 
And do not burn any more of my missives. You are not as adept at hiding as you think you are.

Yours, 
E.

“Apparently, my father will stop at nothing for an audience.”

Disgust contorted his features. He was clutching his hand, fingers curled into a trembling, claw-like rictus. Just below his knuckles on the back of his hand, an angry brand stood out from mottled skin. A snake coiled around a staff was stamped there.

Carefully, I took his hand in both of mine and brushed healing magic over it.

Felix sucked in a short breath through his teeth. “Ah!”

I winced. “Shit. Does that hurt?”

“No, i-its…a relief. Thank you.” The look of utter contempt dissolved as I traced the angry burn with my thumb, feeling the flaking welts flatten and smooth out under my ministrations. But the raw red discoloration remained.

“I admit that your magic has surpassed my expectations. You’ve studied well.”

I shook my head sheepishly. “No, just this. The healing stuff is like second nature. I can’t explain how, but it comes better than any other kind of magic.” 

“That’s not unexpected. Your Relic…” He paused, peering up at me from under his lashes, then looked away in a bashfully. “There are so many things I’ve refrained exposing you to, and yet you still…perhaps your frustration with me is well earned.”

I smirked, rolling my thumbs over the base of his fingers. “How about this: We can communicate with each other better, even about the uncomfortable things. I’ll trust in you if you can trust in me.”

He actually smilled a little, the hint of a blush, before tugging his hand away. “Thank you. You simply are never not like this, are you?”

I shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out together.”

“I may not have the chance. I must journey to the Moonstone headquarters. And I must do it alone.”

I glanced at the spot on the carpet where the shadow figure vanished from. “Are you sure you wanna do that? On your own, I mean.”

He clenched his teeth together in a look of resigned loathing. “Absolutely.”

“Well, what about me? What am I supposed to do then?””

He flexed the fingers of his freshly healed hand, looking for all the world like he dreaded what he was about to say next. “There is one other Starsworn you have yet to train with.”

~*~

I met up with Anisa in an room near the gatehouse, on the opposite side of the medical ward. She’d been pacing around a settee, and barely even noticed the snacks I presented her with. 

So I did my best to distract Anisa from feeling anxious about her assignment by recounting everything that happened the night prior. “Yeah, it was weird! Like the spirit of fatherly disapproval was hauling him away.”

She chewed on the skin on her bottom lip, looking out the nearest window as she twisted at a hidden ring through her gloves. “Hmm.”

“So that’s when I proposed to him, but then he was like ‘Alas, we shant marry until you renounce your claim to the Java throne. Forsooth, what say you, verily!’ And then I was like, ‘How can you say that while I’m pregnant with your demon baby!’ And then Escell’s shadow started breakdancing on the ceiling.”

“Yes, that’s odd…”

“Girl, I’m getting worried about you.”

She woke up from her daydream enough to frown at me a little. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You’re getting too worked up about this mission.”

“Ah.” She looked down at her hands. I wondered how many people ever saw this side of her. As just a woman with a disproportionate amount of responsibility placed on her shoulders, instead of the hero that defeated one of the greatest evils that threatened the world. “I know you said I shouldn’t apologize so much, so I won’t now. I just want everything to go right with this assignment. I’m already under scrutiny from the High Paladin. And as important as my role is, I can’t help but feel like I’m abandoning my duty to the Starsworn.” 

To overseeing my green ass getting trained up, I gathered. “What, is this Paladin auditing you or something?”

She sighed heavily. “I’m not sure what I’ve done, or if this is some kind of test. I just can’t shake this feeling like...” She leveled her bright green gaze at me, and the amount of guilt I saw there sparked even more worry. “Do you believe in destiny?”

“Uh,” I said, leaning against the armrest of the settee. My thoughts flashed to the crumpled pamphlet I kept stashed with my other belongings. “I’m not sure if I buy into the whole 'fate' thing. I think that choices we make prevail over predetermination.”

Anisa hummed. “I want to believe that too.”

“What is this about?”

Before she could answer, the door burst open. Felix strode in, scowling. “Will you stop with the ridiculous chatter? It’s far too early for this.”

“All I said was that you’ve gotten shorter. Did a ‘grow taller’ spell backfire on you?” Sage teased.

Felix crossed his arms. “No such spell exists. Clearly, you’ve fallen on your head one too many times.”

“No way, I always land on my feet. That’s what the tail is for.”

“Shall we test that theory? A drop from Mournfall’s tallest tower should prove conclusive.”

Sage pouted. “Really? Mournfall was right there—”

“Good morning!” Anisa’s stern voice cut through their exchange. “Have the two of you bickered the entire way here?”

“Just trying to be friendly,” Sage said innocently.

She shared a knowing smile with me. “Well, at least some things never change.”

Felix pointed an accusing finger at her—with his non-marked hand, I noticed. “If I recall correctly, Annie, there was a time when we had to talk you out of starting a fist fight over a clutch of gryphon eggs.”

Oh, this ought to be good.

Her mouth dropped open. “I—We agreed to never speak of that again!” She hastily smoothed her already impeccable skirt, regaining her composure. “Regardless, we must discuss the next phase of Zephyr’s training. Since Felix and I are being summoned away, the mantle of Zephyr’s training falls to you, Sage.”

All eyes turn to him. He cleared his throat, the line of his shoulders going rigid as he scratched absently at his chest. “Uh, right…about my Relic. It, uh…broke.”

The silence that followed was almost palpable. I heard someone cough from all the way from the other side of the hall.

Anisa suddenly burst out laughing, making me jump. Then after a moment, when it became apparent that Sage wasn’t trying to be funny, she went very quiet and very still.

Felix performed his best impression of a fish out of water; his jaw dropped, then shut, then opened to speak, shut it once more, then looked to the side as if he was having some serious stomach issues. 

I blinked. “You can break a Relic?” 

That was never mentioned in the original game. Whether or not you could even unlock one of the Relics depended on your choices. There just wasn’t enough lore to speculate about them. But, yet again, the reality of wielding one of these bad boys was vastly different from the gaming mechanics of a ten year old RPG.

Felix’s voice cracked. “How in the hundred hells did you manage to break an ancient, legendary, nigh indestructible weapon?”

Sage just gave a sullen shrug.

Before a Felix-sized catastrophe could erupt beside me, I interjected. “How exactly did it break?”

Sage didn’t answer, suddenly gaining a keen interest in the dirt under his fingernails.

Felix waved a hand, as if he was addressing the myriad of echoes—I hardly noticed them anymore—lingering in the air, hovering high above us. “Yes, please, do enlighten us, Sage. Don’t tell me you misplaced it.”

“Nope.” Sage quipped with a sort of flat cheer that only went skin deep. I was beginning to wonder if that was his poker face.

“So, you were waving it about carelessly and flung it overboard a ship where it plunged into the depths of the Suhail?” Felix offered, a hint of hysteria pulling his voice tighter and thinner than usual.

“That’s weirdly specific.” I muttered, trying to remain unaffected by their reactions. Honestly, Anisa’s silence was a little more unnerving. She’d silently slipped back down into the settee, her bright green eyes laser focused on Sage. I half wondered if she’d start making those ack-ack-ack nosies that cats make right before hunting.

“…No.” Sage said again. The tip of his tail flickered against the floor, the metallic clasp thudding against the carpet.

“You didn’t lose it in another ill-advised game of strip poker did you?”

“For the last time, no! Dammit, I said it broke. It doesn’t matter how.”

“Can Relics be fixed?” I asked.

Sage sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. “There’s a smith in Porrima who specializes in magical artifacts.” Sage coughed into this shoulder. “But I’m, uh…”

Felix leaned forward, cupping a hand around his ear. “Hmm? What was that?” 

Sage mumbled something unintelligible as he looked out the same window Anisa had been staring out of.

“Sage?”

“I’m a little short on funds at the moment.”

 Felix did a spluttered laugh. “What, you already pissed away the coin I gave you?”

Sage grimaced. “First of all, finding that girl wasn’t exactly cheap. ‘Sides, I’ve debts to pay off, tabs to settle. Not everyone’s got rich parents to bail ‘em out of trouble.”

“That’s hardly fair!”

“Fair?” Sage glared, flattening his ears against his head. “What’s fair about getting stuck babysitting while the rest of you go on with your normal lives?”

I bristled at his words. Babysitting? Is that how he saw it?

“Well, for one, we take our ‘normal lives’ and responsibilities seriously.”

Sage set his jaw, stubborn. “Spare me. I don’t need your money. I’ll get coin the best way I know how—kicking ass, and taking names.”

Felix and Anisa traded wary glances. Anisa finally spoke. “You intend to take Zephyr bounty hunting? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why not? ’S how I learned, and I turned out fine.”

I crossed my arms. “Don’t I get any say in this?”

He tsked. “If you haven’t noticed, the Starsworn are in short supply. Beggars can’t be choosers. Ain’t that what Felix always says?”

There was something more here, pieces of a bigger picture that each of them held tightly.  I wasn’t gonna get anything outta Anisa and Felix once they departed, but maybe I’d have better luck with Sage, and find out how I fit into all this. The prospect beckoned, and really, did I have any other choice than but to follow my only lead?

“You know what?” I said instead. “I’m game.”

“That’s the spirit!” Sage seemed to finally relax. “You can, uh, be a decoy or something. Ehh, we’ll figure it out once we’re there.”

“Fine. We’ll reconvene at Fathom after all our duties are accounted for. And I expect you to return with Zephyr in once piece!”

Sage raised his hand in a defensive gesture. “Alright, alright, I get it! No losing her, no dents or scratches, and back before you know it.”

“I’m starting to feel like a borrowed car.”

Sage clapped a hand on my shoulder and said the worst thing anyone could possibly say. “Don’t worry. What’s the worst that can happen?”

The collective cringe sucked out a significant chunk of air from the room. I rapped my knuckles against the wooden frame of the settee just to be safe.

“It's time. I must take my leave.” Anisa rose up, adjusting her clothes for what seemed like the tenth time before hooking an arm through her pack.

“We’ll walk you there, Annie.”

She smiled warmly at Felix before exiting.

“Yeah, no sense waiting around.” Sage pushed away from the shelves and shouldered through the doors.

Just as I moved to follow him and Anisa, Felix caught my wrist with just a touch of his fingertips. “A word of caution, my dear Barista. Don’t let his foolish charm fool you. He’s a scoundrel, mercurial as they come. He’s as likely to kill you as he is to kiss you if he thinks he could get away with it. Tread carefully. Best not to get on his bad side.”

I squeezed his hand in reassurance. “He’s not the first edgy bad boy I’ve ever dealt with.”

Even as we left, I wondered how Sage and I would tackle things as a team. If he’d actually listen to me, like he did when we were up in that tower together. Or if he’d keep me on the back-burner so I wouldn’t get in the way.

I also couldn’t help but think about our Relics. If I never got the hang of mastering the Astrolabe, would it shatter when I needed it most? And if it did, what would happen to me? Would I be stranded here with nothing to show for it? 

~*~

The gatehouse was the shotgun barrel to the rest of the fortress. We hovered at the mouth of the enormous metal portcullis while waiting for the Rivath Ambassador to show up. The space was mostly empty, lined with support archways and more stained glass windows. The gatehouse keeper dragged a squire along to help recharge the light sources lining the long tunnel leading out of the keep.

Anisa was visibly trying not to fidget, nudging her travel pack with her foot as she addressed us one more time. "All I ask is for the three of you to behave.”

“Whaddya mean? We can play nice.” Sage swooped behind us, hooked his arms around me and Felix.

Felix struggled like a cat that didn’t want to get picked up. “Get off me, you oaf!”

Sage made an unflattering noise before turning to me with a mischievous glance at the top of my head. His jacket stank of stale beer and bad decisions . I also squirmed, sticking a warning finger into his face. “If you noogie me, I’ll bite you!”

“Oooh, do you promise?”

“If she does get the upper hand, I shall cherish tease you about this until the end of time.” 

Sage made a swipe at Elegy on Felix’s hip. I seized the moment, heroically licking my finger to stick it into Sage’s ear in the name of Felix’s bragging rights.

That was when the the tall, dignified elf slipped up behind us.

Anisa blanched, snapping her fingers at us in alarm.

“Gah!” Sage recoiled, whacking at his fluffy ear to get the feeling out. “What in the hells was that for?”

I stuck my tongue out and made a nnynn noise, because I’m a very mature adult.

Anisa cleared her throat and announced a little shrilly. “Ambassador Saaros! What an honor to see you again!”

Felix collected himself as well, as if he’d never even heard about behaving silly. “Ahem, well met!”

I was busy dodging Sage’s vengeful licked finger aiming for my nostril. A vile scoundrel indeed! “Don’t you touch me with that— I’m warning you!”

Anisa’s face split into nervous laugh. “Ah, please excuse her. She’s new.”

The ambassador raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at Anisa, as they squeezed out a pea-sized dollop of lotion and worked it onto their palms, fingers and cuticles. A faint scent of apples and soap drifted through the air. “So, these are your compatriots? The knights that aided you in the defeat of the Lord of Shadows?”

Felix shot us a withering glare and hissed under his breath, “Just spell him with water. He’s not going to learn otherwise!”

“Oh nooooo, are you gonna smite me with your frowny face and fancy compass on a stick—wait, Zeph, WAIT! I was kidding!”

Anisa abandoned any hope of decorum, and simply smiled. “This is us. Astraea never knew what hit it.”

~*~

After about a month of being stuck inside Mournfall Keep, I was beyond thrilled to explore the town proper. I wanted to really stretch my legs and explore the streets. I wanted to meet the locals and take in the sights, and visit the places where the off duty Mournfall Knights went to wind down, if only for a little while.

It…wasn’t much. The streets were wide with heavily worn footpaths, but they felt empty. Too vast for the sparse trickle of people moving through them. The layout suggested the shape of a once thriving open-air market. There was the blacksmith, the taverns, the great library of scholars that Felix had boasted about, but trailing after Sage through these streets only reinforced how ghostly the town had become. Old storefronts were hollowed out, some boarded up entirely. Charred trees marked the street corners, their twisted branches cradling abandoned birds nests. Trinkets—painted shells, tinted bottles fashioned into chimes that caught the light, a carved wooden pony—dangled and swayed from the gnarled limbs. And yet in spite of all the ruin, bright new shoots sprouted from where the joints had sloughed away the burned bark, their vivid greens the liveliest color I’d seen so far.

Sage led us to a tavern that was just waking up. It was early enough that the musician in the corner—or do they call them minstrels here?—was still tuning a shabby but well-loved lute. Maybe half of the tables were sat, but the energy was already humming. Sage steered me in by the shoulders, guiding me toward a tucked away table near the back within spitting distance from the bar. He sprawled into the seat opposite from me, stretching out he owned the place, flashing two fingers at the bartender.

“Why are we here?” I asked, leaning over the table. It wobbled hard, making me pull my elbows back.

Sage shrugged. “Why is anyone anywhere?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Huh?”

A shadow loomed over me, making me shrink in my seat. The bartender dropped a couple heavy tankards onto the table, making the whole thing slide back the other way. Amber ale frothed over as he poured, straight from a massive oak cask held . The weight of them tipped the table toward Sage, who caught both effortlessly as he nodded at me. “Cheers.”

Ugh. I scanned the bar, then darted over to grab an unsupervised rag to tuck under one of the legs of the table we sat at. I tucked my legs in, testing it by laying my elbows on it. It somehow slanted the other way, but to a marginally lesser degree. I guessed that was about as good as it was gonna get. My knee bounced as I took a breath and blew my bangs out of my face. 

“Don’t look so glum, Zephyr. Try to relax.” Sage said around his beer before downing half of it in one go.

I’d feel better if he could take this seriously. This felt like I was shoved out into the deep end of a pool. But maybe I was being too tense. Head in the game. I could do this. Be Cool™. I leaned back in my chair, pretending not to notice the rag slip out  a little. I tried to copy Sage’s posture, dangling my arm over the back of the chair.

He frowned. “Okay, dial it back a bit. It looks like you’re trying to hard.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me, but I did sit up a little. This did give me a better view of the room. Lots of people in groups, talking and teetering between various levels of revelry. The minstrel in the corner had struck up a jaunty tune, so most of the attention was drawn in that direction.

“So, can you tell me what we’re doing here? I’m kind of in the dark here.” I whispered. I couldn't be sure, but I suspected Sage brought me here to test my capabilities. I just needed to figure out the parameters.

When Sage didn’t respond, I glanced back at him. His head was thrown back, throat bobbing as he drained every last drop from his second tankard. He slammed it down on the table, which made me jump when it rattled. He whooped and smacked the table with an open hand. “Ahhh, much better!”

I gawked at him. He was going to blow our cover! Before I could protest, he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. The bartender rolled his eyes, but came back with the tankard to pour more ale into the tankards. Sage blew him off with a wafting hand. “Leave the keg, put it on my tab. My girl and I are here for a good time.”

The bartender rolled his eyes and left, as if this was totally normal behavior.

Once the bartender was out of earshot, I leaned over the table and hissed, “First of all, it’s rude to wave your hands to a bartender like that. And second, what the fuck are you doing?”

Sage reached over and shifted the beer glasses so that the handles faced him, then lifted one to his mouth with a grin. “Just making sure this will be fun.”

My mouth dropped as he chugged the beer down, crossing my arms and leaning back. “I’m not gonna learn anything here, am I?”

He leaned back against the booth, turning his head to cover up a burp behind his hand. I suppose that was an attempt at something gentlemanly. 

God damnnit. Did I leap into another world just to watch another guy get shit-faced in front of me? I thought I left that behind me.

Sage’s gaze flickered back to me, sharp beneath all that lazy bravado. “You’ve been wanting out for a long time, aincha? Whaddya think we’re doing now?”

I blew out a breath, making my hair shift again. This might be the dumbest thing I’ve done. I can’t believe I let this guy trash talk about acting like a babysitter. I leaned forward and dropped my hand over the top of the beer he was bringing back up to his lips. 

“Listen to me. I appreciate what you did by finding my friend, but given that my only options are now sandbagged by whether or not you’re in the mood to—I don’t know, do this job you hinge your whole personality on, I’d really like if you took this just a little bit more seriously.” 

Sage’s ears had slowly flattened, the poker face settling in. It was a little different now that it was pointed at me, and I had to strain to keep from blinking. Without breaking eye contact, he plucked up my hand by one finger and displaced it from his beer and onto the table. 

After a moment, I shook my head and huffed. “I’m betting that I’ll wind up being the babysitter before the night is up.”

“I didn’t mean that, by the way.” Sage said without looking at me. 

I ignored him, watching the minstrel go into a passionate solo that rilled up some of the patrons enough to make them stand up and start to dance.

“The babysitter thing.” His tone dipped, something quieter threading through the din and noise of the tavern. “I just…I work better alone. Spent the last few years that way. Learned the hard way that…” He frowned into the foam of his ale. “I’m not safe to be around.”

I rolled my eyes so hard it nearly gave me whiplash. “Right. ‘Cause you’re some tragic lone wolf mercenary?”

Sage snorted mirthlessly, blowing at some of the foam so that it slid down the side and over his fingers. “You don’t think so? I know Felix and Anisa were worried when they dumped you off in my lap. And for good reason.”

I leaned forward, ignoring the squeak of the table sliding over to one side again, meeting his gaze dead-on. “I prefer to form my own opinions.”

Sage blinked slowly, stared into my eyes, the moment stretching out longer than I thought I could sustain. I forgot the rest of the world, losing myself into the gold rims of his eyes, the black within expanding with every second until it felt like looking into an eclipse. 

I felt like I was daring him to share a secret. And I would wait for him to be ready to tell me.

The minstrel finished her song, and a loud cacophony of clapping echoes around us.

The moment broke. He exhaled, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him, never breaking eye contact. “People complicate things… they get in the way.” 

“Maybe you just need a partner that can keep up with you.”

“Maybe.” He scratched absently at the back of his left ear, looking askance before finally meeting my eye. “Look, I’m sorry Zephyr. I’m no good at this team stuff. Still, I shouldn’t have been such a, uh…”

My brain shuffled through a mental rolodex of responses before landing on something that wasn’t too mean. “Careless insensitive asshole?”

Well, I tried.

A flush crept up his neck, barely noticeable under the dim lighting. That quirk was back on the corner of his mouth. “I wouldn’t have put it like that.”

“Listen. I know you’re under this pressure to do good by your Starsworn friends, but I don’t want you to treat me like some damsel in distress. You’re supposed to teach me, not just protect me. I may be new, and yeah, and I’ll probably screw up a little, but I’ll try if you try.” I extend my hand over the table. “Just give me a real chance. Deal?”

His gaze lingered on my hand, hesitation flickering across his face before he finally  nudged his empty glass aside. He pinched off his glove with the black gauntleted  one and enveloped my hand, sending a firm shake that traveled up my arm. “Deal.”

“Excellent. Now,” I said, easing up. I felt like I was making a lot of these kinds of bargains lately. “Why exactly are we here?”

“I thought that’d be obvious.” Sage grinned. “Take a wild guess.”

I sighed. One step forward, a backflip backwards. I looked at the empty glasses between us, then scanned the room. “Is…this where you bring all your first dates, or am I just lucky enough to have you here all to myself?”

“Uh,” Sage straightened up, eyes wide as he cleared his throat. “What? I mean, why? Not romantic enough for you?”

I glanced to the clusters of people surrounding us. Between the dirty tables shared between thugs and the one guy in the corner that had passed out while scuba diving into a brimming tankard of ale, I couldn’t help but briefly contemplate all the choices in my life that had led up to this moment. “When I said I prefered a more relaxed place to hang out for drinks, I didn’t think you’d take it this literally.”

Sage leaned back and folding his arms behind his head, a grin twitching at his lips. “I thought you liked the scruffier side of drinking holes.”

“That was before I was dropped off on an entirely new planet.”

“Fair. Not your usual kind of scene, huh? I’ll have to remember that.”

The bar was getting rowdier as more people piled in. I watched them take seats next to the tables near us, chattering about their lives with easy familiarity. This was actually kind of good. I’d missed this. “I gotta admit, it is kind of nice being in a different environment. Mournfall can feel like such a cavity, sometimes.”

I was starting to crave one of those drinks myself. I reached out a tankard. My fingers barely graze the glass before Sage slides it out of reach, shaking his head firmly. “Nah-uh. I can’t have you getting hurt ‘cause I let you get sauced on the job.”

I threw him an incredulous look. “Says the guy getting sauced on the job.”

He shook his head. “I need you bright eyed and bushy-tailed. We bring in this bounty, then drinks are on me tonight. And this?” He taps a finger to the brim of the glass. “This is nothing. You ought to see me after a keg or three.”

I try not to pout. "Fine. What’s the plan? Do we have a target? Are we tracking leads, piecing together clues?"

Sage arched a brow, chuckling in that infuriating way of his. "What? No, our guy’s right over there."

Pure, stupid instinct made me turn my head. Sage caught my chin. "Ah-ah, keep those pretty eyes on me, Zephyr. Don’t wanna give the game away before we’d ready, aye?"

I shook my chin away, staring down at the varnished table, I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You knew where he was this whole time?"

Sage shrugged. "Good ole Jackrabbit Jason. Typical small-town scumbag—robs the weak, scams the desperate, and somehow never pays for it. He’s the dopey looking guy by the window. Hasn’t moved since we walked in."

He flicked a glance over my right shoulder. I fought the urge to follow it.

Instead, I rolled my neck and relaxed into my chair, making a lazy show of glancing toward the bar. The warped mirror behind it reflected every patron at seat level. And there he was—a wiry, anxious man sitting beside a massive corkboard of pinned posters for local events, help-wanted advertisements…and bounties. One of them bore his exact likeness, down to the unfortunate facial hair. The only real difference? A bucket hat that looked like it’d been pilfered off a dozy fisherman. The hooks were even still attached. It didn’t help his disguise at all, if you could even call it that.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I said out one side of my mouth. “How has this guy not been caught?"

"Nasty reputation," Sage mumbled, swirling his drink. "Did a real number on the last idiot who tried. Besides, you know what they say about jackrabbits."

I opened my mouth, then shut it again as his knowing grin derailed my thoughts. “How is that helpful?”

He smirked over the rim of his tankard, eyes glinting. "They’re faster than devils. Hard to corner. Even harder to catch. If we go straight for him, he’ll bolt."

“Okay. So how do we go about this?”

Sage smirked like this was all some big joke. “You tell me. You’re the one all about plans. Let’s hear whatcha got.”

“This is starting to feel like the world’s worst internship.” I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. “Okay. What if we set a trap? We hide outside in some bushes, wait for him to leave, then—bam! We jump him!”

Sage gave a half shrug, gazing into the foam like the tiny bubbles held the secrets of the universe. “’S not the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming?”

“Because you’re learning.” He took a slow sip before setting the tankard down. “There’s three exits, not counting the windows. We don’t got enough hands to lock it down. That’s called strategy, Zephyr, look it up in one of those books you’re always reading.” Then he grinned. “Damn, maybe I am good at this whole teaching thing.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that beforehand? It’s not like you gave me a heads up.”

He threw me an exasperated look. “You gonna tell me all those divey bars on Earth hand you the building’s schematics when you walk in the door? They serve you a little history book to use as a coaster?” 

“Honestly, I’d be surprised if there wasn’t at least one place that does that.” 

I had to admit he had a point. Situational awareness and all that. But I would sooner cha-cha slide down an active volcano than admit that right then.

Sage sighed, all put-upon. “All right, fancy pants. Let’s see if you got the brains to back up all that talk. What’ve Felix and the Sunshine Lieutenant been teaching you?”

I drummed my fingers against the table, my mind racing. Three exits, too many ways for the target to bolt. No way to block them all on our own. My gaze drifted back to the minstrel, who’d just wrapped up her latest song. Hmm. 

“Okay, okay. What if we don’t block him in? What if we make him run exactly where we want him to?”

Sage raised a dubious eyebrow. “Go on.”

I leaned in, careful to keep the table from rocking and keeping my voice low. “We spook him. Make him think he’s already being hunted. If he’s got the reputation you say he does, he won’t sit around waiting to be caught. He’ll run.” I flicked my eyes toward the back of the tavern. “If we set things up right, we can control where the chase goes. Drive him into a trap instead of trying to block him in. But we’re gonna need a little help. And luckily, I think we have the perfect person to help up out.”

He blinked. “Who?”

I flicked my gaze over to the minstrel, who was holding out her hat to accept tips from the crowd.

Sage let out a low whistle, looking surprised despite himself. “Not bad. But we gotta make sure he doesn’t clock what we’re up to. You up for a little roleplay, Zeph?”

I gave him a sharky grin. “Think you can keep up?”

He knocked back the rest of his ale, slamming the tankard down, making the table stagger to the other side again. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Time to shake this rabbit out of the bushes.”

Chapter 12

Notes:

Forgive me father, for I have sinned...

I learned how to do a thing.

 

This is one of my favorite things in the world. End of chapter 10 art, by the amazing artist @spiderlegeyelashes

 

---

 

I may not be able to take down a thug through sheer strength, but there was more than one way to pull a rabbit out of a hat.

I glanced up at another wanted poster featuring our target, this one nailed to the tavern's back exit. WANTED: For Arson, Extortion, Fraud, Impersonating the High Paladin during Spring Equinox Festival, Thievery…

“Oh, but I immediately get pulled over for driving five miles over the speed limit?” I muttered, drawing overlapping glyphs onto the ground, just the way that Felix had instructed me. I closed my eyes and pressed my palm flat onto the empty space in it’s center, charging the new sigil with a controlled measure of magic. The sensation was still so strange, the energy slipping out and taking a new form with just mindful intent. I wondered, not for the first time, if I'd ever really get used to it.

Now all I needed to do was wait for Sage’s signal to set the trigger.

30 minutes earlier

I weaved through the increasing churn of tavern patrons orbiting the minstrel. She perched on a bar stool with her back to the corner, one knee propped up as she plucked lazily at her lute, the melody intimately delicate yet clear enough to thread through the bustle like a spell of its own. Her deep green velvet surcoat laced up the front, cinched at the waist with a broad leather belt. Tall suede boots climbed up her thighs, one heel tapping an idle rhythm against the stool’s rung. She regarded the tavern with an inconspicuous smirk playing on her lips.

My earlier confidence had drained out of my posture, leaving me to trip over the remains of it scattering across the floorboards—or possibly just someone’s shoe, but still. I nearly ate it, barely catching myself at the last second by gripping the nearest table. That little maneuver earned me the palpable displeasure from the pair of Ilephtans seated there. Heat rushed to my face as I flashed an apologetic smile, clearing my throat in a feeble attempt to salvage my dignity. I didn’t need to look back to know that Sage had just face-palmed.

“Uh, hi!” I stammered, my voice cracking in betrayal. “That was a great set you played! You really know how to get a crowd going.”

The minstrel barely acknowledged me with a polite nod, giving the heavy impression that she wasn’t interested in indulging fans at the moment.

I tried again. “Anyways, I was thinkiiiiing, uh, that maybe you’d be interested in helping me out with a...different kind of performance.”

She turned her head just enough to spear me with a slow, withering look.

Replaying the words back to myself, I realized it sounded like I was making a pass her. “Wait, that’s not what I meant!”

Oh my god, Zephyr, be cool for once in your life. I leaned in, lowering my voice. “I’m after the bounty on a certain wanted criminal drowning his sorrows on the other side of the bar.”

She looked at me up and down. “You’re a bounty hunter?”

My keen perception informed me that I had, in fact, successfully convinced her she was dealing with a total scrub. I nodded anyway.

“That’s very sweet, dollface,” She lilted with the practiced tone of someone used to letting dweebs like me down nicely. “But I don’t get involved in affairs like that. It’s bad for business, you see?”

“I hear you. All I need is a distraction. A little subtle discouragement around two of these exits. We play it right, and it’ll just look like a stroke of misfortune. Everybody wins. Well, except for the Jackrabbit.”

Her lip curled at the name, but still observed me with that condoling look. “Even if this little scheme of yours works, I think you severely underestimate the value of my contribution.”

I grimaced. “How about a cut of the bounty?”

“Coin upfront,” She said briskly. “I won’t risk my reputation on the blind hope that you’ll return to me after retrieving your due.”

My stomach sank. “I…don’t have any coin on me.”

She flashed me a flinty smile. “Then we have nothing more to discuss.”

Well, shit.

“Okay, wait.” Reluctantly, I dug into my pocket, fingers closing around the familiar metal cylinder. I’d been hoping it wouldn’t come to this. With a quick, surreptitiously glance around the immediate area, I withdrew my flashlight, holding it open-palmed next to my hip.

The reaction was instant. She abruptly dropped the melody she’d been strumming with an ill-struck twang. Her lovely eyes widened, then narrowed, glinting with hunger. Before I could even open my mouth, she made a quick swipe for it. I barely clam-shelled my hand up and out of the way in time.

"Whoa, can you chiiiill?" I hissed between clenched teeth as I checked to see if anyone had noticed.

She glared at me, though her smile didn’t budge. If anything, it sharpened. “Do you even know what it is that you have?”

"Better than you do." I knew from obsessively playing Ayanna Anka’s character that Rivath had some pretty cool magic-infused machinery, but the details surrounding it were pretty hush-hush. The minstrel’s eyes flicked from the flashlight tucked back into my pocket, then back to me, appraising.

“How,” she murmured, “did you get your hands on Rivathi technology? The nation notoriously stingy with their goods? This must cost a fortune, and yet here you are, just waving this around like some pilfered curio.”

It was kinda priceless, actually. The last thing my dad gave me before leaving for FantasyCon. It wasn’t like some incredibly high tech thing, or a custom engraved heirloom or whatever. But it was still sucked to just hand over. But she didn’t need to know that, now that I held the upper hand.

“That’s not what matters right now. What matters is my offer: You make a nice public scene with my tall, handsome friend over there, drive our target in the right direction, and this little bad boy—“ I wiggled the flashlight. “—is all yours. A one of a kind, solar-powered torch. No magic needed, infinitely useful. Bright enough to blind a man, if you need to.”

For the first time, she considered me in earnest. “Who’s my performance partner?”

“The himbo in red sitting near the back. Look over my right shoulder, but don’t make it obvious.”

She did, subtly shifting her weight to find Sage where I’d left him, nursing a fresh pint and looking completely at ease, as if totally unaware that he was being drafted into a scheme. The minstrel hummed in appreciation. “He’s certainly easy on the eyes.”

“Don’t bother telling him, it’ll go straight to his head. So? Are you in?”

She paused for a moment, scrutinizing me again. Then, with the same smirk as before, she extended a hand. “I didn’t catch your name.”

I tucked the flashlight under my thumb with a small pang of regret, and shook hers firmly. “Zephyr.”

“Crescia,” She responded, as she palmed the device, then winked. “Charmed.”

My eye twitched. I resolved to never say that again.

~*~

The spell was pretty simple in theory, despite Felix’s best academic attempts to over-complicate things. I combined the method to summon a simple light mote—a singular, rudimentary version of the lights dotting the walls of Mournfall, and just about everywhere else apparently—with the clever little cantrip Anisa had used to windblast me on my ass during our many sparring sessions. Once the glyphs for each were traced into an interlocking pattern, it was a matter of amplifying the effects to burn twice as hard and half as long, then folding those parameters onto itself, so to speak, to further compound the effects until the results imitated a kind of flashbang. It made sense in my head, I promise.

Out of habit, I reached for my non-existent phone to snap a picture to show Felix later. I thought the spell came together rather well, and that he’d appreciate some evidence showing that I wasn’t slacking off during our lessons. Oh well, I’d just have to wait until later to explain how prettily I interlaced the glyphs for 'air' and 'light' into a single complete sigil. I was sure he’d pretend to be unimpressed with my ‘glorified Jack-in-the-box’ or whatever.

I heard a whipcrack coming from inside, and a sudden chorus of Ooooooohs from the people inside. That was as clear a signal as Sage had insinuated.

“Don’t worry, you’ll know when it’s time.” He’d said with an encouraging if unhelpful shake to my shoulder as he pass me by, once I’d sealed the deal with Crescia. All that was left now was to set the trigger.

Just as I touched my fingers to the last empty space on the sigil, I heard the screech of tables and chairs sliding over floorboards, followed by the drumbeat of rapidly approaching feet. I barely had time to react before the door exploded open.

With a startled squawk, I lurched out of the way in the nick of time, hitting the dirt in an ungainly sprawl. The half-cocked sigil fizzled out uselessly in the dust as Jason the fucking Jackrabbit stomped on it before ricocheting down the alley.

I clenched my fist, pounding at the sigil in frustration and simultaneously sucking up the carefully laid out magic before it could dissipate completely. “Oh, you slippery little sh—“

“Hey!” Sage burst through the door so fast he nearly tripped over me, his boots skidding in the dirt. A fresh red handprint burned across his cheek, and his expression was nothing short of murderously peeved.

I threw up my hands. “What the hell happened?”

“I got made, no time to explain! C’mon!” He grabbed my wrist, yanking me upright, and suddenly we were running.

All hopes of getting a proper tour of Mournfall’s open air marketplace flew past me as I tore after Sage, twisting through the increasingly crowded streets in pursuit of our target. The scent of roasting meat and pickled vegetables coiled through the air, mixing with the sweat and chatter of merchants hawking their wares. The Jackrabbit barreled through the throng, knocking over boxes of wares and shouldering past people, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake. At least the he wasn’t being subtle.

After a few breathless minutes of pursuit, we skidded to a stop at an intersection packed with sellers and curious buyers enjoying the cool afternoon. I crashed into Sage’s back, nearly toppling us both.

“No, nononooo, we can’t lose him!” I said, rubbernecking in every direction.

Sage hopped up onto the balls of his feet, scanning over people’s heads, his ears turning this way and that like a pair of satellite antenna. “Damn, which way’d he go?”

For one stomach-dropping heartbeat, I feared we’d lost him. Then I spotted it—a thin avenue where overturned baskets and trampled goods painted a clear escape route. “There!”

“Ha!” Sage grinned, whacking me on the shoulder with the back of his hand. “Race ya!”

Just as he launched forward, I stretched my leg out and hooked my foot around his boot mid-stride. Sage flailed with an undignified yelp before face planting.

I cackled, skipping over him. “Catch us if you can!”

The Jackrabbit was as fast as his name suggested. He hurtled through the alley with no regard for his surroundings, squeezing through tight gaps between obstacles. I ducked under a swinging basket, slid past a merchant waving a shish kebab dangerously close to my face, feeling incredibly alive and slick as hell.

Up ahead, the Jackrabbit spun around a lamppost to whip himself down a narrow alley. I missed it, sliding so hard I had to paw at the ground to rebuild momentum. Behind me, Sage slipped was steadily gaining ground. Adrenaline pounded through me, a wild grin splitting my face.

Then a peddler shrieked as the Jackrabbit crashed through a vegetable stand, sending wooden crates splintering across our path. Cabbages bounced in every direction, rolling like scattered marbles.

I skidded to a halt, arms flailing for balance, my brain racing for options. Sage didn’t hesitate, sailing up and over the debris without missing a step.

Dammit!

The vegetable seller pointed furiously at the disaster, already shouting about damages, but I barely heard them. My eyes locked onto something more important: a humble stack of crates and barrels stacked against a building.

I wasn’t in Astraea. I was an hour deep into an action blockbuster movie, and it was finally time for the rooftop chase.

“’Scuse me, sorry!” I dashed past the shrieking vendor, clambered onto a barrel, and launched myself upward. My fingers caught the lip of the roof, and I kicked against the wall as I climbed over the edge, ignoring the protests below. Accusations of trespassing was a problem for future-Zephyr.

I rolled over onto my back, letting myself lay there for just a moment to catch my breath. Then I pushed myself to my feet, scanning the sprawl of the lower district from a much better vantage. A maze of squat rooftops and narrow chimney stacks stretched out before me, clustered together like giant, haphazard stepping stones.

Sweat dripped down my temple, and I wiped it away with my shoulder as I stalked across the rooftop, peering in the direction where Sage and the Jackrabbit had vanished. The telltale cries of dismay and scuffling echoing from below were easy enough to follow. The Jackrabbit was trying to lose us in the long, winding, awning-covered backstreets, which might have worked pretty well for him up until now.

I launched myself across the gap. Then the ran to the next one and did it again. And the next, the rhythm becoming second nature, each stride measured as I cut through until I found myself ahead of the Jackrabbit. I slowed down to crouch at the edge of a roof, heart beating like crazy, eyes locked on the alley below me. The drop was a good ten feet through a gap between blue canvas awnings—nothing I hadn’t handled before. I was as prepared as I could possibly be for this moment.

The heartbeat before the Jackrabbit darted beneath me, I dropped.

My knee drove into his shoulder, my other leg slamming into his gut. We hit the ground hard, the force rattling through my body, though I did my best to roll with it to minimize the shock. My limbs really didn’t much appreciate the impact, but that was also gonna have to be problem for future-Zephyr.

“The hells did you come from?” Sage slowed to a stop, somehow barely out of breath.

“I..I was…” I wheezed, then gave up. Couldn't do much past the stitch in my side, other than catch my breath. I pointed at the Jackrabbit. “Got him!”

He stared down at the Jackrabbit, whistling. “Not bad. Thought I lost you back there.”

A surge of pride made me smile broadly, despite the exhaustion creeping on. “I’m just full of surprises. You weren’t bad yourself, either. For a decoy.”

It took him a second for his grin to fade in confusion. “Wait, what?”

The Jackrabbit groaned, blinking sluggishly as he tried to get a grip on himself. Sage planted a boot against the man’s shoulder, shoving him back down. “Nice try, Jackrabbit. But this ends here.”

The Jackrabbit’s breath came quick, his face flushed from the chase, but it was the fury in his eyes that sent a warning chill through me. Before I could react, the knife came out quick.

It swung in a wide arc that would have sliced through my boot and into the tendon of my ankle had Sage not shoved me aside. The force of it threw him just off balance enough for the Jackrabbit to scramble to his feet, backing up toward the alley wall. With the two of us on either side of him, he struggled to keep us both in sight.

“Not another step,” He blubbered, all but vibrating with the manic energy of someone contemplating a last ditch effort. “Or I’ll…I'll-"

The Jackrabbit made up his mind, deciding who’d be easier to rush and swung the blade towards me.

A dark shape plummeted from between sections of fabric overhead, landing in a crouch between us. In one seamless motion, the black-cloaked figure rose and caught Jason’s overextended arm mid-swing. Twisting sharply, they used his own momentum to hurl him into the ground with enough force to drive the air from his lungs. The figure kicked the dagger out of his weakened grip, sending it scattering far away while the Jackrabbit moaned and curled into a fetal position.

It was clean, fast, and damn impressive. “Nice.”

“I could’ve done that.” Sage grumbled.

Our unexpected savior straightened. A few strands of pale hair slipped free from beneath their heavy hood. It felt like I couldn’t turn a corner without tripping over someone dark, mysterious, and vaguely threatening. But this presence had a different kind of intimidation factor. While the hooded stranger I’d encountered in Mournfall exuded a dark, dreadful sort of magic, this one was more…solid. Grounded.

Sage silently inched closer to me, ears pinned back and his entire posture poised. His hand hovered near his sword.

"So we meet again." The voice was razor-edged, distinct with a brogue I could almost recognize, each word carrying a deliberate weight behind it. "And to no one’s surprise, I find you skulking through alleys, playing executioner for those you deem beneath you. Small wonder how you can stand all the blood on your hands, but I suppose you stop noticing after you’ve spilled enough of it."

What? This person regarded Sage with such visceral loathing that it sent goosebumps skittering across my skin.

“That’s a lot of venom from someone I don’t recognize,” Sage said slowly, bereft of his usual levity. “Should I know you?”

"Three years. I’ve searched for you for three damn years, Red Wraith." The figure threw back the hood, revealing a shock of cornsilk blonde hair framing an unnervingly pale face, almost otherworldly in it’s pallor. Piercing blue eyes radiated calculated determination, an aura of someone that really ought not to be fucked with. She cut the air with a harsh almost-laugh, revealing the points of fangs. And those ears marked her as another Ilephta. "The Night Mother must be smiling on me today."

Red Wraith? I shot a glance at Sage. He didn’t react, motionless except for the erratic twitch of his tail.

"You once called him brother," The woman said, taking a step closer that passed her underneath a shaft of the afternoon sunlight streaming through the awnings. "Someone I loved. And you butchered him like an animal."

The air in the alley had become heavy, nearly claustrophobic. Sage slid a foot back, but not from fear. He’d eased into a loose fighting stance, all casual on the surface, but coiled underneath, ready to strike. I’d seen similar in the training halls, threats wrapped in nonchalance. No words, just that silent exchange between fighters who knew the game. It was kind of incredible to watch it happen out here, in the real world, like getting caught in an open field by an approaching storm front.

"Then you ran. Too much of a coward to face justice."

"I’ll give you one chance to walk away with your life." Sage growled. I couldn’t see his face from this angle, but I could sense an ominous frisson building up around him.

Her gaze bore into him, pale eyes flickering with an eerie red glow that I thought I must have imagined. "I’ve seen your heart, Sage Lesath," she spat. "And it’s blacker than that vile poison rotting you from the inside out."

Sage drew his sword in a smooth motion, stepping in front of me to break the line of sight between us. Not that I minded. The less attention she paid to me, the better my chances were of catching her off guard if shit hit the fan. Alarm bells clanged in the back of my mind, my instincts screaming that this fight was about to get really goddamn real. But what kind of person would I be to abandon Sage now?

The woman mirrored Sage's posture, a predator savoring the final moment before the kill. "May the Night Mother welcome you into her embrace," she uttered. "Your life ends here."

“Hate to disappoint you,” Sage said, rolling his shoulders. “But I don’t plan on dying today.”

The woman’s smile cracked. In a blink, twin swords slipped into her hands and she lunged at Sage.

The walls seemed to press in as clashing of steel filled the alley. Sparks in the dim light scattered like startled fireflies. I kept a careful distance behind Sage, my heart hammering as I studied his movements. He had this brutal efficiency, his blade deflecting hers in a whirling dance of parries and counters. He sank into a hanging guard over his armored side, holding his ground. He never let a single step cross his body, instead shuffling in a way to always keep one foot forward and the other back.

But goddamn, did this woman have no chill.

She crashed into his space with no hesitation, no wasted motion. She didn’t so much advance as invade, forcing Sage to give ground whether he wanted to or not. He managed to deflect another blindingly fast slash, only to find her already moving, pivoting to drive a vicious thrust straight for his ribs. He barely twisted aside, the sharp edge whispering past his coat.

Sage was good, damned good. But now he was on the defensive. And she refused to let up.

“Show yourself Wraith!” She spat. “Show me the monster that killed my brother!”

Her blade swept low, forcing Sage to shift his weight, his foot slipping just enough to give her an opening. With a swift kick to the side of his bent knee, he buckled, a curse slipping through his teeth. Before he could recover, she knocked his sword aside with an almost lazy flick of her wrist. And then her heel slammed into his chest, sending him sprawling against the alley wall.

My stomach lurched. “Sage!”

Dust swirled in the shafts of light spilling through overhead. The woman turned to me, finally remembering I was even there. Her eyes, once so pale and cold, now glittered a menacing red as they honed onto me. “What if I killed this one first? Will you face me then?”

Sage took a harsh breath, his gauntlet digging claw marks against the wall as he held himself up. “Leave her out of this, Elowen.”

Huh. Elowen? That was interesting.

She sneered. “Or else what?”

For the first time, something like unease flickered across Sage’s face. His jaw tightened. “Zephyr, run!”

I shook my head. “Not happening.”

I dug my heels into the dirt, fingers curling as I summoned the reserve of primed magic I’d pulled from the sigil. The energy pulsating, ready to go in my palm, and I flung it at her. A burst of compressed air and light shot from the center of my hand, the recoil knocking my shoulder back.

Elowen eye’s widened, pitching out of the way at the last possible second. The missile clipped her shoulder, shooting past and scattering in a blinding sunburst against the wall behind her. Awnings snapped and dangled fabric, debris strewn in a whirlwind of displaced air.

Elowen shook the hair from face, snarling. She sprang, twin swords carving the air in brutal union. I staggered back, scrambling to summon the Astrolabe.

Then Sage was there.

He threw himself between us, his black sword locking against both of hers in a shrieking clash of metal. The force of the impact shuddered through the ground. She bore down, pressing him back, the edges of her blades inching closer and closer to his throat. His arms shook, muscles taut with strain. A deep growl rumbled through his chest, low and visceral, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Black energy crackled between their locked swords. Sage bared his teeth. The surrounding air trembled with that terrible frisson.

Then, with a raw, guttural snarl, he exploded forward.

Elowen flew back, her body smashing into the far wall with a force to send cracks spider-webbing through the stone. She crumpled into a heap, dust raining down in thick tendrils, as she took a moment to collect herself.

“Fucking hell,” I muttered in amazement.

Shaking off the dust with distressing ease, a wicked smile curled Elowen’s lips. “There it is. I knew you still had it in you.”

Sage stood hunched, his ragged breath sawing through the alley’s uneasy hush. His arms were unsteady from whatever hellish force had just surged through them. He looked less like a man and more like something momentarily possessed, a thing dragged from depths unknown and not entirely sure it wanted to go back.

Shouts rose from the main street, the kind that meant too many people had seen too much. Elowen clicked her tongue, exasperated. “And here I thought we were having a moment. Pity. We’ll have to continue this later.”

She sheathed her swords behind her back, then vaulted onto the nearest wall, kicking off into the air like gravity was more of a polite suggestion.

Sage lunged to pursue her.

Without thinking, I darted out in front of him with arms spread wide. “Whoa! Sage, what the hell are you doing?”

He locked onto me with those red, glowing eyes, each breath coming out as a snarl. His grip on his sword tightened, knuckles blanching, muscles tense like he wasn’t entirely convinced I wasn’t just another obstacle to cut through. And normally that kind of thing would have pissed me right the fuck off, especially coming from an ally, but I knew this wasn’t a time to fight fire with fire.

I took a step closer, gently, voice calm but firm. “Sage, buddy, we're gonna get one thing crystal clear between us. You’re gonna mind your growly tone with me, you understand? I’m not your enemy.”

It was like he wasn’t even seeing me. Just looking through me. But at least he seemed to be listening. I inched closer, palms out in a pacifying gesture. “We didn’t come here for her. We stick to the plan, yeah?”

My hand hovered over his shoulder, fingers trembling slightly from the sheer heat radiating off him.

“Don’t!” Sage suddenly doubled over with a pained groan, catching himself on one knee. His sword clattered against the dirt, fingers digging into his temples like he could claw the fire out of his skull.

“Sage?” I asked, hesitant.

His breath hitched. Then, finally, he let out one long, slow exhale. When he looked up, his eyes were back to their usual amber-gold. A little unfocused. A little tired. But his.

He winced. “Zephyr …”

I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He stood, rubbing his face as he cast a wary glance toward the growing audience at the alley’s mouth. “But we gotta get the hells out of here.”

I scanned the scene, fully expecting the Jackrabbit to have hightailed it out by now, but there he was, still unconscious in the dirt. A pleasant surprise, for once.

“There he is. Let’s go turn this guy in.”

Sage nodded, then hefted the Jackrabbit’s limp form over his shoulder.

~*~

The bonds dealer was not, as it turned out, the sort of imposing figure I’d imagined. No grizzled mercenary, no shadowy underworld kingpin—just a man with a monocle in a plain gray-bricked building, with a bit of a paunch, and the general aura of an accountant flummoxed by occasionally misplacing entire wanted criminals. Strange how mundane it all actually was.

As the sky darkened to the color of wet concrete, we found ourselves back at the tavern and the same off-kilter table. The minstrel was still there, playing her lute in a lively, jazzy way that inspired folks to stomp their feet and dance to the rhythm. My foot tapped along to the beat without me thinking about it.

Sage settled his half of the deal with all the enthusiasm of a man attending his own sentencing. Meanwhile, I was practically vibrating. Might’ve been the adrenaline still thrumming through my system. Every second of the chase replaying in my head. Without my sketchbook to jot down notes, I feared losing details.

So I babbled. Breathlessly, and grinning like an idiot.

“Okay, okay, so the sigil trap was a bit off—timing’s hard, sue me—but the way we recovered? That was pure theater! Like a full on choreographed pursuit, with explosions and swords and dramatic monologues. I mean, I get it now. Why you do this. It’s kind of addictive.”

Sage didn’t bite. Hadn’t really said anything since the fight. Since Elowen.

I kept going. “I’m telling you, magic changes everything. I used to think this gig was all brawling and bleeding out from knife wounds—not my favorite way to spend a Tuesday, just saying—but now? I can level the playing field. Tilt it in my favor, even. Like did you see me do that light missile? Come on! That was badass, wasn’t it? Badass-ish?”

Still nothing. He didn’t even look at me when he said, flatly, “You attacked a bloodthirsty cutthroat … with sparkle magic.”

“Light and wind magic,” I corrected. “Repurposed creatively. For justice.”

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You’re lucky you didn’t end up in pieces.”

I shrugged. “Pssh! I’m a healer. Besides, you were like ten seconds away the whole time. Ish.”

“You can’t assume I’ll always being ten seconds away.”

That one gave me pause, because it sounded like he meant it as something else. “I mean … that’s kind of the deal, isn’t it?”

“For now,” he said.

That may be true, but the mopey attitude made me think that he was deflecting from what was really bothering him. My curiosity broke under the weight of his brooding and spilled everywhere. “All right. So who was that woman in the alley?”

Sage absently traced tally marks carved into the table. “…No one important.”

“Do unimportant people normally leap from the shadows, swearing bloody vengeance?”

He ignored me. As if that could stop me from being annoying. I leaned in. “Let me guess … old enemy? Former lover? Evil twin?”

Nothing. Steady on. “What was all that about a ‘Red Wraith’?”

At that, he flinched. His tail cuff clicked against his chair, betraying his irritation. “Misunderstanding. Let it go.”

I arched a brow. “What do you mean, a misunderstanding? She knew who you are, and you called her by name. She threatened to kill me, Sage. I think I deserve to know what’s going on.”

Sage flexed his fingers, ears drooping slightly. I waited.

Eventually, he sighed, raking a hand through the hair falling over his eyes, still avoiding my gaze. “Sell your sword long enough, someone’s gonna come looking to take it from you. More if you’re not careful. Let’s just say I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”

His gaze drifted to the bar, lost in thought, or memories, before clicking his tongue. “No use dwelling on the past. We got the money. That’s all that matters,” He punctuated this thought with a deep swallow from his glass. “You needn’t worry.”

I leaned back, arms crossed. “So mysterious.”

He smirked faintly. “’S part of the allure.”

I wasn’t buying it, but I let it slide. For now.

He raised his tankard to his lips, sighed, then lowered it. “For what it’s worth … I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there to keep me from running off half-cocked like that. And…I’m sorry. If I…if things got weird. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

That actually made a huge difference. “Water under the bridge, my friend. Glad I could help.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. Um, thanks.”

Aww.

Sage rolled his shoulders, wincing at the loud pop that followed. “Can’t go a week without someone trying to stab me. Today didn’t go exactly as planned. But you were… well, not good. Not bad, either. Acceptable, I guess.”

My jaw dropped. “I’m the reason the Jackrabbit got caught!”

“Your little trap didn’t work.”

“Because someone got made! Besides, I tagged him first.”

Sage shrugged. “I would’ve gotten him.”

“Oh, let’s not start this.”

That, at last, earned a crooked grin. Some of the tension in my chest loosened.

“That reminds me, what did you say to that minstrel to get her to go along with your plan?”

“Oh,” I scrunched my face in remorse. “I gave her something from Earth.”

His brows furrowed. “Not the weird glass thing, was it?”

I shook my head. “No, not my phone. It was something my dad gave me right before I went to…er, before I arrived here. Crescia seemed to think it was some Ravathi tech, but it was just a flashlight. Now that I have magic, it’s sort of redundant. It’s just … I don’t know, it’s kind of sentimental.”

I shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t give me some spiel about how it wasn’t worth the results we’d gotten. It was a half-baked plan, I knew that now, and I probably shouldn’t have leaned so hard onto it. Instead, he nudged my knee with his and nodded at my beer. “Better drink that before I do.”

I raise it up for him to clink his tankard against. “Bottoms up!”

I took a hearty swig. The beer tasted like someone had wrung out an old bar rag in a bowl of malt yeast and called it a microbrew. It took an effort to keep it from coming back up through my nose.

Sage seemed amused by my standards. “There you go. Puts some hair on your chest, doesn’t it?”

I coughed. “Yeah. Feeling super hairy right now.”

He snorted. “Guess I’ll have to teach you how to fight, if you're gonna keep acting like a hero.”

I perked up, my hands clapping together. “Now we’re talking! Someone’s gotta take up the mantle now that Anisa’s busy. Besides, isn’t fighting like the only thing you’re really good at?”

Sage smirked. “Oh, I’ve a few other talents.”

I waved a hand. “Besides drinking mop water. And wearing shirts—oh wait.”

He gestured to himself. “What? It’s on brand.”

“Brand? Oh, this I gotta hear.”

His face slid into an attentive, slow-burn grin that was one hundred percent trained on me. “Call it sexy dangerous.”

“Sounds like a cheap cologne.”

“That’s ‘cause you never got to experience the real thing before meeting me.”

Oh, he was enjoying himself now. Good. This was a far cry better than the brooding lone-wolf bit. And I had to admit, I liked that my playful badgering didn’t grate on his nerves. Too many guys with fragile egos worked themselves up the second you pushed back on their bravado. Sage could just roll with it, even enjoy the repartee.

I let my chin rest on my knitted fingers. “So what does a sexy dangerous merc like you have to teach little ol’ me?”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty o’ tricks up my sleeves,” His gaze flicked over me, not with the lazy once-over of some barroom flirt, but with the measured calculation of a man assessing a puzzle he very much wanted to solve. “Where do ya wanna start?”

“You’re asking me?” I tapped at my chin, mirroring him. “I’d say…you’re the kind of guy that leads with swordplay. Maybe a few flashy moves in the beginning, but then I’d end up getting stabbed within the first five minutes.”

He gave me a wounded scoff. “Give me some credit! There’s an art to a round of satisfying roughhousing. I make a point to take my time getting to know my sparring partner before any kind of swordplay gets involved.”

I could neither confirm nor deny a blush was creeping up onto my cheeks. My gaze drifted to the sword strapped to his belt. The pommel gleamed a dull black in the tavern’s hazy light. Surely that couldn’t be Zenith. Looked like a perfectly ordinary sword, nothing broken about it. He fought pretty well with it anyway. If this wasn’t his Relic, then where the hell was it?

“Ahem, my eyes are up here, Zephyr.”

I quickly looked back up. “Can I see it?”

“See what?”

I gave him a knowing look, and enjoyed watching the little hamster running Sage’s brainpan slip and tumble off the wheel before scampering back on. His throat bobbed before he spoke slowly. “What, you want me to whip it out for you right here? In front of everyone?”

Mine was a mischievous grin. “Is that a problem? Don’t tell me Mr. Sexy-Dangerous is getting shy?”

“I…just didn’t expect you to be, uh, that adventurous.”

“I’ve been on all kinds of adventures. And handled all kinds of swords.” Which was…true. He just didn’t need to know that most of them were digital.

His ears twitched at my confident smile. I could practically see him scrambling for an excuse. “I doubt you’ve ever handled one like mine.”

I threw a dubious look at the pommel again. “What’s so special about it? It’s not even that big—“

“Hey now! It’s big enough. And it’s not the size that matters…”

“Alright, alright!” I laughed, throwing hands up in surrender. “I won’t argue your dueling skills. But I am curious...how’s your hand-to-hand?”

“You thinking about getting handsy with me?” Sage fired back without missing a beat.

“Gotta warm you up somehow if I’m ever going to get my hands on your sword.”

Sage raised his tankard before his own wicked grin made him pause, clearly torn between drinking and keeping this game going. “Far as I’m concerned, Zephyr, you can put your hands wherever you want.”

I gasped, fingers brushing my lips. “Right here? In front of everyone?”

“Now I’m thinking you just like making me suffer.”

I shrugged innocently. “God forbid a girl have a little fun.”

“You’re trouble.” He shook his head, leaning back to drape his arms over the back of his chair. “Tell you what. You play your cards right, and when I think you can handle it…maybe I’ll let you polish my sword. If you’re very good, and if you ask nicely.”

I attempted a wink, not entirely sure that I succeeded. “I’ll try to be on my best behavior.”

~*~

We stayed until I powered through the rest of my beer, which admittedly got easier to drink the more of it I had. I got up to find a bathroom while Sage settled his famously outstanding tab. I was relieved to find a sort of hand well pump that issued clean water under a foggy mirror. A film of dust covered me from our chase through the streets, so I splashed water over my face and neck, feeling it streak in dirty rivulets down my arms.

I braced against the basin, taking a moment of stillness to process the day through a slight but pleasant haze of inebriation. Even though not that much time had passed, it felt like so much had happened. As much as I enjoyed spending time with Anisa, and giving Felix a hard time during lessons, this was the first actionable experience outside of Mournfall. Like stepping out of the tutorial for the first time. It was a lot to take in. And, so far, I was having a blast.

When I stepped back out, I faltered by the bar. Sage had returned to our table to wait for me, but he wasn’t alone.

The minstrel—Crescia—had slipped into his lap and thrown a green velveted arm around his shoulders, oblivious of the perfectly serviceable chair within kicking distance. She had just finished whispering something in his ear, stroking his cheek with one finger as she stuck out a pouty bottom lip.

Oh, right. I’d forgotten to ask Sage what exactly had happened during their ‘distraction’, though I’d certainly lost all interest by now. Whatever the case, he didn’t seem to mind the trouble or the company at all now. Dare I say he was even enjoying the attention, by the way his hand slid around her hip and under her surcoat.

The absurdity of the situation hit me like a chair to the back of the head. I’d completed a quest where the end result got me third wheeled in a crappy tavern by a reckless, flirtatious bounty hunter and a goddamn stranger. Not that I’d been particularly serious about staking some stupid claim on Sage…but I’d only been gone for a couple minutes, for fucks sake. Heat flared in my cheeks, and I hated the awkward feeling that worked up my spine like scoliosis. Even in these strange distant lands, I had no game.

Whatever, sooner or later I’d be teleported back to my home planet and leave all this behind. I could take my humble-pie to go. I swept my hair off my shoulder and made my way to the exit, passing the table without stopping. “See you back in Mournfall.”

Sage tore his eyes off Crescia with some reluctance. “What? You don’t know the way back.”

“It’s the big castle by the lake. Pretty hard to miss.” And with that, I shouldered out the door.

The sky had gathered dense clouds, galvanizing into a late spring storm. I tugged my jacket tightly around myself, popping the collar up, and picked a random direction to walk in. The townsfolk retreated into their homes, deconstructing their stalls and wares for the evening. The air held that familiar tinge of ozone. It was a stark difference to the cacophony of the tavern, and a welcome reprieve for my shifting mood.

I heard Sage’s footsteps approaching behind me. “Wait! I’ll walk you back.”

“You really don’t have to,” I muttered, keeping him in my peripherals. Maybe it was the drink in me, and not having eaten much all day, because a part of me insisted that I was being sensitive. I tried shrug it off. “Seriously, I don't mind.”

Sage pursed his lips, shooting a considering look over his shoulder, but then just shook his head. “Nah, we gotta run a couple things by Felix before we leave for Porrima. ‘Sides, this is for you.”

He tossed me a pouch, heavy and clinking with what I could only assume were doubloons.

“Your cut of the bounty. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

My discomfort vanished the way that being passed a bunch of money tends to handle things. In another world, my eyeballs would have spun around and landed on dollar signs. “Whoa, cool!”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Not bad for a couple hours of work, eh?”

“No kidding.” I said, hefting the bag in my hand. It certainly felt substantial. I supposed the risk-to-reward ratio balanced out. A sense of assurance, of independence, along with the gratification of a completed quest took over me. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, sticking around here for a while.

We walked the rest of the journey back to Mournfall in silence, just as the first raindrops began to fall.

~*~

We managed to race inside before getting really drenched, sidestepping the upside-down world reflected in the puddles scattered over the mud.

Felix hunched over the desk formerly owned by Anisa, his nose predictably buried in...oh, some kind of battered, flowery paperback? Wait, was that a romance novel? He appeared completely engrossed until Sage announced us by slapping the top of the doorframe, making Felix jump out of his skin and quickly shoving the book into a drawer.

“Ah! Good evening, Zephyr. Sage.” He removed his glasses before they could tip off the end of his nose. “It heartens me to see you both return in one piece. I trust your hunt was a success?”

“I caught us a Jackrabbit.” I said loftily, wiggling my shoulders as I sunk into the seat in front of the desk.

“Beginner’s luck.” Sage clarified.

“I’m sure. Congratulations nonetheless, my dear.” Felix said warmly. He poured me a cup of some kind of herbal tea without asking, which I appreciated more than I let on. It smelled soothingly green with hints of popped rice. “I understand the next objective on your itinerary involves visiting this smith in Porrima, yes?”

“Yep. Don’t suppose we can hitch a ride with you?” Sage asked, peering out the window at the rain pelting against the glass.

“I’m not heading into the city just yet. Not until I address a few matters with my father.” Felix’s voice pitched low at the last word. “Alas, I do not know how long it will take to settle my affairs at House Anguis, and unless the two of you will be ready within…”

Felix pulled out a pocket watch to squint at. “…Oh, say, a quarter hour? Then the window of opportunity shall have passed. I’m afraid you two on your own.”

“Really? You're going out in this weather?” I glanced out the window Sage was standing next to. The rain was only getting heavier by the minute.

“Of course. Why waste the raw energy of a natural phenomenon? Teleporting over such long distances can be so exhausting.”

The unironic truth to that statement was not lost on me. I narrowed my eyes. “So, you’re going to use magic to ride the lightning?”

Felix squinted suspiciously. “I have the distinct impression that means something different where you come from. Nevertheless, it’s … a somewhat crass description, but yes. I shall depart soon. Will the two of you look out for one another on your journey?”

I snapped a crisp salute. “I’ll make sure to keep this one out of trouble.”

Sage snorted. “We’ll head out tomorrow, once this rain lets up. It’s about a week’s travel, give or take, so pack smart, Zeph. If we’re lucky, we can catch a caravan part of the way. Save us some time. It’s a pretty common route, so I doubt we’ll run into any bandits along the way.”

I inhaled a chunk of my tea the wrong way, spluttering. Felix kindly passed me a napkin to clean myself up without saying anything. “B-bandits?”

“Yeah. Highwaymen.”

“I know what—nevermind. What do we do if we run into any?”

Sage dismissed me with a tsk. “Sunstone garrisons patrol the eastern pass. Only idiots cause trouble on that road. Lucky for us, I’m pretty good at dealing with idiots.”

“Takes one to know one.” Felix muttered into his teacup.

Sage turned around, shaking his head and dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. He gave Felix a little sneer. “Good luck with your pops.”

He gave threw me a casual wave and left the office, leaving me alone with Felix and my teacup, growing colder by the second. I took a big gulp.

“Well! I suppose I should get on with it.” Felix fidgeted about the cuffs of his coat, clearly struggling to come up with a decent farewell. “The looming judgement of an Archmage waits for no one. You know how it is. Safe travels, my dear.”

“Wait, uh, real quick,” I said, clacking my teacup down on it's saucer a little too hard. “Have you ever heard of...the Red Wraith?”

Felix froze mid turn, blinking as if he misheard me. “The Red Wraith?” he echoed.

I shrugged, feigning casual interest. “Just something I overheard.”

He sighed through his nose and leaned against the desk, folding his arms in that scholarly way that indicated that he was humoring me with something silly. “Good grief, now there’s a thing I’ve not heard word of in years. It was said to be a blood-starved fiend that haunted the streets of Porrima, after the honest folk tucked in for the night. It preyed on the…shall we say, morally compromised. Whispers spread of baleful crimson eyes precluding imminent slaughter amongst seedier circles.”

A cold shiver crawled down my spine, though maybe my damp clothes were partly to blame. “So it’s real then?”

Felix waved a dismissive hand. “I’d wager the Red Wraith was a urban legend designed to frighten naughty children into minding their manners. Ghastly bit of folklore. The whole bit about solely dining on the wicked? Awfully convenient, wouldn’t you agree? That or some foolish patrician’s pet lapwyvern cut loose. You know the type; bred for aesthetic, zero survival instinct, often dumped back into the wild once they get too rambunctious to keep indoors. Honestly, the way people let their imaginations run away…”

I wasn’t convinced. “Has anyone found any evidence that it could be real? Any eye-witness accounts?”

His expression pinched. “There are a few testimonies, if you can stomach the creative liberties. As I’ve said, the monster hunted under cover of darkness, and those that do come forward tend to lean towards unreliable. Most described a hulking, shadowy beast feasting on the unscrupulous, leaving naught but charnel scraps and nightmares of leering shapes waiting in the dark. The result of a fanciful imagination going too many rounds through the rumor mill, nothing more. Get ten different drunkards telling the same story from ten different angles and suddenly we’ve got a demonic serial killer with a penchant for nocturnal theatrics.”

For a moment it’s silent save for the smattering of rain and wind rattling the windows. Thunder rolled over the keep, prompting Felix to clear his throat.

“In any case, ’tis but an urban legend. You needn’t be afraid, my dear barista. The stories can’t hurt you.” He paused on his way out to pat my shoulder, and I managed a weak smile.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about Sage’s lurid red eyes.

 

 

 

Notes:

MY CABBAGES!

I'm sorry for any weird bits. I got so sick of staring at this chapter and decided to roll with it and just move the fuck on. We got places be, nam sayin' fam? I've been playing things fairly loosey-goosey so far, so...

Anyway, TYSM for reading! <3

Chapter 13

Notes:

“It’s been over a week since Sage and I left the sleepy town of Mournfall. The days since have been spent trekking through a seemingly endless expanse of forest.”

This is the beginning of how I turned two sentences into the start of whatever this is.

 

Coming back to the infirmary felt like returning to the scene of a crime. The violence had been scrubbed out, the chaos picked up and reorganized, leaving behind only crisp linens and the smell of antiseptic. It was too clean. Too quiet. I could still feel it—Celena’s hands around my throat, the fear, the way I so helpless to do anything.

My boots echoed across gleaming marble as I made my way to the far end, to the cot where Celena lay. A wooden chair and bedside table were arranged around her, but curiously, no other obvious trappings of a medical ward. No IVs, or beeping equipment, though there was a slight buzz in the air that reminded me of licking a 9 volt battery. The morning sun pouring through stained glass windows in long colorful shafts on all the white flooring and cedar panels, which made the building feel more like a church than an infirmary. Maybe that’s why I felt like I was being watched. Not by anything tangible, just…a discomfiting kind of weight.

Celena looked better, at least. Some color had returned to her cheeks, her breathing steady. Peaceful, a little more like the girl I’d first met at FanExpo FanstasyCon. For now, her eyelids remained curtained over a dream, like she’d just dozed off at a sleepover and was about to wake up and ask what she’d missed.

“So, uh… no hard feelings about the whole—” I forced a breath of a laugh, gesturing awkwardly to my neck. “You know?”

She didn’t stir. Her arms lay straight at her sides, while the rest of her was caught somewhere else. I chose to take that as a good sign. Does a person's physical body dream while their soul was away? Was there some intrinsic tie between body and soul, tethered no matter how far apart they drifted from one another? I wished I’d had more time to ask Felix these questions.

I sat on the edge of her bed, hesitantly, then curled up cross-legged at her feet with a protesting creak from the cot. If she had a problem with it, she could wake up and kick me off. I kind of hoped, dared that she would.

“I mean, that was easily the most terrifying moment of my life. But I know that wasn’t really you. And I…I should’ve done more. Been smarter. More prepared. Maybe if I had a better grip on my magic, or knew what I was doing...then maybe you’d be awake right now.”

I swallowed hard, staring at how passing clouds sifted patterns of light on the floor.

“I wanted to let you know that I’m going to Porrima. Can you believe that? The place where we first meet Ayanna Anka and Escell at the start of the game!"

I adjusted my feet fidgeting feet, thinking about how this kind of life was at one point just a game. "Somehow, it still doesn’t feel real yet. At the same time it feels…wrong? Like it’s selfish for being excited, when you’re stuck here. But I can’t do anything for you here, not like this. And it sucks, knowing you might wake up in a strange place, around strangers that don’t really understand you. I just…wish I could be the person that you’d need when you wake up.”

This all was coming out a lot whinier than I’d intended, talking about my woes to someone who was literally trapped. I looked toward the stained glass again, softer this time. The colored glass was patterned after a sky I used to only dream about, back when I still believed impossible things were just that. Fanciful, impossible dreams.

“Kind of wild how we both ended up here, huh? I don’t know about you, but I used to be obsessed with the idea of magic. Not just the fireworks and lightning kind, but the real stuff. The kind that could scoop you out of your life and drop you somewhere freer. Somewhere bigger than the confines of a nine to five that amounts to just commuting to work, doing your taxes, paying off student loans, just so you can live for the weekends.”

I laughed uncomfortably, hunched over and fiddling with my sleeve. “I used to twirl sticks like they were swords, or like a magic staff, thinking I could whisk myself away from a boring life. Like if I could just do it right, I’d break reality apart and escape through the cracks. I wouldn’t have to put my dreams into a box, only so I could pull them out to admire later, when I’m too old and burnt out to doing anything with them except sigh and wonder where the time went.”

A draft from somewhere chilled my skin, and I could hear the echoes of spirits on the vaguest periphery of audio. I wondered what my echoes would have been, had I lived my life on Earth without all of this happening to me. Would my last thoughts be ones of fond recollections, or regrets over the things I’d never done?

“You were so brave. On Earth, I mean, you still are brave. It’s just…I watched almost all your videos. Your livestreams, your cosplays, your super funny late-night rambling Q&As with fans. You put yourself out there in a way I couldn’t ever do. And, because you did, people like me felt seen. Felt allowed to be weird and earnest and hopeful and understood.”

I let out a breath, letting it shake. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, not quite so empty this time. Just full of all the things I couldn’t put more words to.

“I’m sorry you’re lost in a different way than I am right now. I can’t do anything about that right now. But I want you to know I’ll be here when you wake up. Maybe not in this room. Not in Mournfall. Just…know that I’m not giving up. You can come find me if you want to. I promise I’ll come find you, once I can. Then, maybe we can figure things out together.”

I straightened up, shaking my arms out as I cleared my throat, and reached out to pat her hand. “Okay, that’s enough of that sappy stuff. I guess I’d better go find Sage. I dunno if you remember him. He was the tall hot one with the fluffy ears and great hair—er, nevermind, you were… busy for that part.”

I hopped off the cot with another creak, smoothing out the long trail of my coat, and turned to leave until I noticed something. A smudge of dried blood had crusted at the tip of Celena’s ear.

Right, I remembered now. I’d torn out one of her earrings during the fight.

It took a good long while searching the floor for it. I got down on my knees, peeking under the cots and cabinet legs, suspecting the thing had been swept up. But then I spotted it, bent and jammed against the foot of a cot halfway across the hall. It was a small silver crescent moon. Nothing fancy, the kind picked out of a plastic carousel case when you get your ears pierced at the mall.

“I can fix this,” I murmured. My hand lifted automatically, gathering the warm swirl of a healing spell at my palm as I leaned toward Celena’s ear.

That’s when I heard it.

A thin, almost imperceptible hum. It was coming from her.

I froze. A chill ran through my spine. The glow in my palm flickered uncertainly. Could this be another trick? Had something else claimed residence inside her? Or could it...

I watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, straining my ears to pick up that familiar refrain. I couldn't be imagining it. But if I got close, and if it wasn't Celena...

Slowly, I leaned in, closer and closer. I leaned my head to the side, so that my ear hovered next to her nose and mouth, the loose strands of my hair brushing her face. Her breath ghosted warm across my cheek, steady, making me shiver.

And there it was again. Humming. Soft, slow, threaded through the quiet in fits and starts like a radio signal drifting through dead air.

The Last Legacy theme song.

“Ahem.”

I jumped, spinning around and cramming my hand behind my back, the spell flickering out of existence.

Hugh Hunnicutt stood behind me, his charcoal robes settling around his frame as if he’d only just alighted into the middle of the infirmary without me noticing. One of his densely annotated books was tucked into the crook of his elbow. His expression was equal parts stern and amused, like he’d just caught a toddler reaching into the cookie jar.

“There’s no need to interfere,” he said mildly.

I blinked. “I—sorry. I was just—I wasn’t trying to—“

“I know what you were trying to do,” he said, stepping forward. His tone was gentle, but his eyes were sharp beneath those craggy brows. “But I must ask you to trust my process. Your friend is in good hands.”

I backed off, sheepish. “Right. Of course.”

Hugh rounded the other side of Celena’s bed, his feet echoing oddly. He bent down to listen, his brows drawing together, lips tightening in thought.

“She was humming,” I said, uncertainly.

“Yes. I heard the same yesterday evening.” His gaze lingered on Celena, tone unreadable. “That shouldn’t be possible. Not in this state.”

“Is it a good sign, at least?”

Hugh studied her for a beat longer, the lines around his eyes deepening. “It may suggest her will is strong enough to maintain a sliver of connection. Some bodily autonomy, even without full consciousness. This auditory pattern is not random.”

“I recognize the song. It’s from…uh…”

“Earth?” He finished for me, with just a hint of wryness. “Yes, I’m quite aware of the unique circumstances at play. Anisa was quite thorough in her briefing. Including your aptitude for the restorative arts! A student after my own heart.”

I blushed. It felt like a master pianist congratulating me on my kazoo rendition of Hot Cross Buns. “She mentioned that?”

He gave me a conspiratorial smile. “That…and word travels fast in a castle full of bored knights with loose tongues. And as we both know,”—he cleared his throat in theatrical gravitas— “your recent magical instructor, though a prodigious mage in his own right, never did pursue any properly distinct healing tradition. Let’s just say his bedside manner leaves…much to be desired.”

I thought about telling him about how Felix tossed me off a balcony to save both our asses, but decided it was just petty to bring it up at this point.

“Regardless, I thought you might make better use of this.”

He offered the book out with both hands.

I took it reverently. The cover was pale green leather, stiff with age, wrapped in a loop of braided cord. The pages inside were crowded with meticulous scrawl. Diagrams, sigils, even alchemical charts had been drawn, reworked, and annotated in at least three different inks. It had the feel of a book that had passed through many hands. Studied, questioned, corrected, and doodled upon.

“What is…is this…why?” I asked, genuinely touched.

He clasped his hands together and shrugged with one shoulder, a surprisingly boyish gesture. His tone shifted slightly, as if he was speaking across time. “I was once acquainted with your Relic’s predecessor. House Varela were once major patrons of the healing church. You may have noticed their influence.”

He gestured toward the stained glass lining the walls. I still didn’t understand the relationship between what I assumed was a noble House and a bunch of shapes dotted in the sky, but I supposed it must have held important significance since the iconography was everywhere. “Is it cultural, or historical? Religious?”

“A bit of all three,” Hugh said with a faint smile. “They’ve proved generous. In any case, the Astrolabe has chosen you for a good reason, Miss Owens. I hope this helps you understand what that means…and that it may encourage you to live up to it’s gifts.”

I clutched the book a little tighter. “Thank you…Doctor Hunnicutt.”

He tilted his head, considering me with a steady stare that he held a little too long. “I prefer to eschew formalities. The acolytes call me Hugh.”

“Okay then. Though I’m not sure if I count as one of those.”

He arched a brow. “Do you intend to read the book?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Then consider yourself an honorary student.”

I wanted to squirm from a silly sense of flattery and embarrassment of being tucked under someone’s wing, yet again.

“When she wakes,” Hugh added as he glanced back toward Celena, “I’ll make certain she knows someone was here who cared very much.”

“I wouldn’t leave if I—“

“No, of course you wouldn’t. But your story is only beginning. Don’t hold back.”

~*~

As Sage and I crested the first hill outside of town, I looked back at Mournfall with a strange sense of longing. From this vantage, the Keep seemed to brood from under an aura of melancholy, clinging on with a stubborn gray weediness. Still, I’d gotten used to the drafty halls, and the constant susurrous of spirits. I’d seen its quiet promise from up high in the tallest bell tower, under a full moon reflecting off the placid lake. And from the streets below, where people traded wares and stories and company, sheltering close near hearth fires once the light slipped from the sky. The life of Mournfall was no longer a grand thing, but there was a stark beauty in a wounded place still fighting to matter.

“Feeling homesick already?” Sage said watching me linger from a few steps away.

I shrugged. “Should we be worried about Elowen finding us on the road? To finish what she started?”

For a moment he didn’t look like he was going to answer, or that he even heard me.

“If we do meet her again, it’d be better if we were away from people. Wouldn’t want to drag anyone else into this mess.” Sage nudged me as he passed by. “Look alive, Zeph. There’s a lot of road in front of us.”

Ignoring the sweep of vertigo, I plunged on after him. Maybe Sage sensed it, because he winked, “Stick with me, and you’ll be all right.”

A few hours into the long walk, the only remaining signs of civilization were us and the road. The landscape had an idyllic countryside serenity at a glance, nestled with old farms amidst vast waves of overgrown sweetgrass. A soft breeze billowed through the green expanse, revealing colorful sprays of wildflowers bending under the bluest sky.

But look long enough, and the fairytale unraveled.

Squinting through the sunlight, the barns sagged under their own weight. No livestock, no crops, just empty yards and rotting fences. Even the houses looked hollowed out. Planks nailed over fractured windows, screen doors hanging off hinges so rusted that they no longer groaned in the wind, blackened steaks where flames had licked and left its mark on the wooden sidings. The silence wasn’t peace. It was abandonment.

Every step past those houses felt like walking through a massive graveyard, each landmark representing a bad memory that the soil itself was unable to fully forget.

Sage said nothing, his expression distant. He looked like he was used to traversing roads like this, head lowered into a forward motion, chasing the sun in purposeful long strides.

At the dwindling of the day, we were crawling over a terraced set of hills when we spotted what I’d politely call a waystation. At best it was a platform with a scrawled map plastered on a wide wooden plank, shaded by a crooked overhang.

An oilcloth covered wagon parked beside it, hitched to a bizarre ox-shaped animal with wide set horns sprouting from a long-necked bovine head. Parts of its hide shone with wide slate-colored scales. A wiry elderly woman in a water-bucket hat was brushing the beast down, her white bristly hair tamed into a doughnut at her nape. Her rheumy eyes fixed upon us at our approach.

At that moment, an tall figure stepped away from behind the map and rounded the wagon. She was broad-shouldered, a long blade slung over her back, and watched us with a cold glower. Her arms looked like she could rip a stump in half, though she was poised enough to give both me and Sage pause. The familial resemblance was obvious, even if the two of them couldn’t look more different. Where the older woman had a long nose and a wide, clever smile, the taller one looked like she wore her features like battered testaments of endurance, appraising us with suspicion.

The ox-thing huffed as we neared, curling it’s lips back to reveal a disturbingly human set of teeth as it released a low warbling creen. I slowed my steps accordingly. “Whoa, what the fuck is that?”

“Careful, dear,” the old woman called, patting the beast’s hide with affection. “Glim here bites when he’s nervous, and you look very twitchy.”

I blinked. “I’m not twitchy.”

The elderly woman turned, revealing a grin like cracked porcelain and a glint in her eyes that didn’t match her age. “Mm. You can try and hide it. But nerves have a scent.” She inhaled deeply, wrinkles bunching around her long nose. “Burnt ozone and sweaty palms. How charming.”

My mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

Sage didn't bother to hide a laugh, leaning towards me with a stage-whisper. “I like her.”

“Of course you would,” I muttered.

The woman strode toward us, wiping strands of beast hair off her patched apron, under a moss-green cardigan and layers of necklaces made of bone and raw mineral shards wrapped in twine. She had this funky goblin-core appeal that was as quaint as it was slightly unnerving.

“Moira Pemset,” she announced, offering out a hand that was as hot as a hearthstone when I shook it. “Trader of quirks and sundries, and an occasional fire hazard. And this towering delight—” she jerked a thumb behind her without looking, “—is my granddaughter, Talan. Don’t take her silence personally, she’s a bit shy.”

Talan kept her distance, arms folded and jaw set. She had the kind of presence that made you feel evaluated, much like some of the knights in Mournfall. Her expression was pure steel, flicking between me and Sage like she was mentally cataloging our pressure points.

“Pleasure to meet you both,” I said weakly.

Moira’s eyes sparkled. “Well now, you do have manners. Lovely.”

Talan shifted her weight and muttered, “We were going to make camp. Alone.”

Moira waved her off with an admonishing look. “Yes, yes, I remember. But these two look like they’ve been walking through ghost country with nothing but pluck and the shirts off their—ah, well, some choice lack of vestments, if I may say so!”

Sage gave her a dazzling smile as he casually pulled the edge of his jacket away from his hip. “So you noticed?”

“Oh, darling,” Moira clucked cheerfully, reaching all the way up to pat his cheek. “Everyone noticed.”

She turned to me. “So? Care to share a fire? I was just about to set out some lizard flanks and some old lard popovers. You’ll hardly taste the questionable bits if you char them up a little. Talan handles the spit, says she can’t trust me around so much as a candle flame anymore. Pah! Kids these days.”

Talan groaned, a soft almost imperceptible thing. The groan of someone who’d rather be wrestling a wyvern than babysitting their grandmother’s rogue hospitality.

I looked at Sage, who was already nodding like we’d been invited to a royal banquet. “We’d love to!”

“We would?” I muttered under my breath.

Sage hooked an arm over my shoulders, giving me a stern look through a big smile. “Yes, Zephyr. I love lizard, don’t mess this up for me.”

Moira clapped her hands, and I swore I could see a few sparks spill out from between her fingers. “Excellent! The more the merrier, I say! I promise not to sell you anything until after a meal.

“I’m Zephyr,” I said as I rolled out my bedroll nearby Sage’s, pointedly keeping a cautious distance from the ox-beast—Glim—which was chewing it’s cud and watching me with a deeply unsettling amount of eye contact. “This is Sage.”

“Zephyr and Sage. Sage and Zephyr,” Moira repeated, playing with the syllables. “Mmm, its got potential. Sounds like a brand of expensive gin, or the start of a suspicious potion.”

“Why not both?” Sage said, already lying back on his bedroll with arms folded behind his head. “Could sell our combined booze and magic charm as a cure-all draught, make an easy profit. We could all retire early.”

Moira flapped her hand. “Please. Snake oil with a poetic label? Scam’s as old as time. 'sides, I'm too old for that type of nonsense, mind you. Make your own brand, if you're inclined.”

Talan brought forth a few logs from the back of the wagon, stripping a few slender sticks from them with a savage looking dagger that she withdrew from her boot. One day, when I grew up, I’d be the kind of mage that walks around with a boot knife. I watched her arrange the firewood pieces in a perfect cone, sticking bits of lint and tinder into the spaces between.

Moira carefully knelt with a creaking salvo of popping joints, brushing off my attempts to help ease her down with a flapping hand.

“You know, you could learn a thing or two about respecting your elders,” She shot over her shoulder at Talan, who gave the barest eye-roll in response as she returned to the wagon. "Just a thought."

From a pocket under her cardigan, Moira retrieved a waxy block of squashed candle scraps and wood shavings. She cupped it lovingly in both hands, closing her eyes, then exhaled into it.

The tremble in her knobby hands stilled. Fwoom! A plume of gentle blue flames blossomed across the top layer. No flash, no showmanship, just a low breath of ethereal flame coiling the wispy edges into bright orange beads. Somehow the heat didn’t seem to burn her, even as she rubbed off a few of the crumbling embers and drippy wax with her thumb so that they tumbled onto the bits of fluff and pocket lint that Talan poked into the spaces between sticks. They flared up almost instantly.

“That’s so cool!” I blurted, eyes wide as I crouched closer to the elderly woman. “What kind of fire starter is that? Does it have any heat stabilization glyphs inscribed onto that thing? Or is it just reactive to magical airflow? And how do you keep it from burning you?”

Moira grinned, holding up the smoking hunk for me to admire. “Ah, a fellow appreciator of small wonders. You’ve got a good eye, twitchy girl.”

“I’m not twitchy,” I grumbled. “Just a…late bloomer. I’m still pretty new to magic, and...other stuff.”

She bobbed her head in a maybe-so manner, poking her fingers into the fire without regard for the flames.

“Fair enough. Still, you’d be surprised how many young folk wouldn’t know a simple fire aide from a hole in the ground. Half of them’d roast their eyebrows off trying to look impressive. Your generation’s too obsessed with flashy effects and glowy swords.”

She leaned into me conspiratorially, wiggling the block. “This little nugget? Simple cottage pyromancy. No sustained magic drain, no chants. Just old-fashioned channeling and a bit of kitchen alchemy. Works better than half the spellbooks I’ve seen”

“Kitchen alchemy,” I repeated, unable to keep from grinning like a doofus. “My teacher taught me a really academic way of summoning fire magic. He had me light a candle with nothing but intent and theory. Never really let me have fun with any types of magic sinks.”

Moira scoffed. “Let me guess, blue-blood academic type? Taught you all about the sacred mathematics of glyph formation and how to fry your nerves with dignity?”

Fry my nerves? Was that what Felix meant when he talked about the dangers of magical overextension? I remembered how he lectured about the danger of corruption, but we didn't have enough time to cover the details. 

"I guess, but I'm still learning, so who the hell am I to complain? Honestly, magic’s always felt more instinctive to me, instead of something tied up in equations. I pulled off my first healing spell without knowing any of that. It was an accident, even.”

“Exactly, my darling! All that extra jargon will drag you by the ear off the cliffs of magical burnout. And it’s never enough for those prissy types. They’ll push and push you until you’re blazing twice as brilliant for half as long. And then where does that leave you? Talan!” She cut off sharply with a beckoning motion. “Bring that bottle of the Porrima Red! I feel like toasting.”

Talan dutifully lifted off and wandered around the wagon, patting the ox-beast between the eyes as she passed.

I still had so many questions, especially since Moira held such a different perspective than anything I’d encountered so far. I wondered if she’d ever attended a school like Felix. The idea of this kooky lady walking down the same illustrious academy halls that he had was a little bizarre.

“Thanks for sharing all this. This is the first time I’ve heard someone talk about magic without treating me like a science experiment, or worse, as some accident waiting to happen. ”

Moira’s face twitched into something proud and devilish. “’Tis a pleasure, darling. And don’t let those accidents pull you from trusting your instincts. Take that from a former pupil who’s set a few accidental fires in her youth.”

"That word does a lot of heavy lifting when you use it." Talan interjected, having returned with a bottle in one hand and three gray mugs clinking together in the other. She passed one for each of us, pouring a measure into each of our cups before dropping on the ground with a soft thud.

“To thaumaturgy!” Moira announced. “May the magic in our hearts stoke the fire in our bellies, and thus light our way forth!”

Our mugs clanked with pewter thunks, and we drank. The wine went down smooth, with a sweetness that lingered in my nose. Sage downed his in one long gulp.

Moira was already producing a cast-iron pan from somewhere inside her cardigan, where it absolutely should not have fit. I could easily picture her swinging it at bandits.

“Now then. Those popovers aren’t gonna burn themselves. I might have a bit of firefruit marmalade to balance the meal out. But you’ll have to trade for that.”

“Trade?” I asked, already pulling my coin bag out. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Sage tense for some reason. “How much?”

“Oh no, darling. No, no no. This first night we spend in each other’s company, I’m much more interested in stories.”

Sage sat up with a suspicious look. “What kind of merchant turns up coin?”

She barked a laugh. “Alas, gold and silver tarnish. You can wear them down until the faces don’t even resemble the sovereigns that minted them.” She winked at us, as the flames licked the bottom of her pan, her gnarled hands steady in spite of the fire’s eager flames. “Memories are stamped right on your soul. That’s the kind of lasting wealth worth collecting every once in a while. And besides…the two of you look like you’ve got good ones.”

Sage shrugged. “I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself,” Moira imitated his shrug. “Some stories take a while to ripen.”

“Some just rot,” Sage muttered, then looked away.

Well, all right then. I rubbed my hands together. "I’ve got plenty stories to share! Not mine personally, but they’re from my homeland.”

“And where might that be?” Talan asked. Her voice was rather quiet for someone of her imposing stature.

I leaned in close with all the drama I could muster. “From beyond the stars.”

Sage let out a quiet snort. Talan only furrowed a skeptical brow, but didn’t pry further. It was just the right kind of weirdly ambiguous thing to say to make certain people wonder if I had all my marbles and just leave it at that before getting sucked into a weirder conversation.

Moira watched me close for a moment, then gestured. “Well, don’t let us keep you! Spin us a yarn!”

I proceeded to tell the abridged tale of a hobbit that lived in an hole in the ground, much to the delight of Moira and Talan, the latter of the two leaning in close to listen to every detail of a small hero battling goblins and giant spiders, and realizing that even a smallest person can be incredibly brave in the face of a dragon.

By the time the story wound down and we were licking the spicy jam off our fingers, night had gently settled over us.

Moira clapped when I finished, wiped her mouth and put down her cup with a satisfied sigh. “Oh yes! That one was worth a little something else…a bit of the scones, and perhaps —Talan, fetch me the pickled apples from one of those Velan monks, not the Mournfall batch. I swear, they brine with hot water. Makes the whole batch mealy.”

~*~

Talan settled near the front of the wagon, keeping silent watch while the rest of us lay down to rest.

I stared up at the unfamiliar sky from my bedroll, trying to memorize the strange scatter of stars. I’d never seen so many all at once, having spent most of my life in or near the city limits. They glittered so bright, unfurled like a spread of tiny jewels across infinite dark velvet. So bright I could forget we didn’t need magical lamps out here in the middle of empty plains. The stars drifted so slow through a dreamy suspension, hazy bands of violet spraying across the planet’s meridian.

Moira snored from her roll on the back of the wagon, a slow rhythmic rasp broken by the occasional masticating mumble. Glim let out a low, warbling sound, something between a whale’s song and a mournful elk’s call. It should have made my skin crawl, but somehow it didn’t seem out of place.

Now that I was alone with my thoughts, I found myself feeling surprisingly grounded. Stability resonating within my chest. I imagined that was the space where the Astrolabe occupied. Strange and real and mine. The scent of smoke clung to my hair, and the ground underneath me lumpy. I was here now, having pushed through the vertigo. Anything could happen, but it didn’t frighten me now.

“What’s wrong?”

I looked over at Sage. He was on his back, one arm pillowing his head, the other resting across his stomach.

“Hm? Nothing.”

“I can hear you thinking from all the way over here.” He cracked one eye open. “And the thing you’re doing with your feet is driving me crazy.”

“Oh. Sorry.” I locked my ankles to keep them fidgeting. “It usually takes me forever to fall asleep. ”

“Mm,” He hummed, nose twitching. “I got the opposite problem. Can’t seem to stay asleep.”

“How come? Are you a light sleeper?”

He made a noncommittal noise and yawned, letting it stretch into silence. Long enough that I thought he drifted off.

“You ever get that…falling feeling?” he asked suddenly.

“In dreams?”

“Yeah. Like you get yanked through your dream and slam back into your body.”

I gave a small nod, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah. Sort of recently even, in the infirmary when things got crazy. It was really weird.”

He hummed again, quieter. “I get a lot of that.”

The fire popped, shifting the dying logs that shot a few embers into the air. 

“Do you think it means anything?” I asked. “Like when people dream about their teeth falling out, and it means they’re anxious?”

“I don’t really think about it." His voice was husky with sleep. "It is what it is."

I rolled onto my side to face him. He lay sideways from me, far enough away that I had to trace the shape of him through the heat waves from the fire. He could have been perfectly at ease, but I was starting to see how good he was at using a detached demeanor as a mask.

“Whenever I’ve tried to bottle things up,” I said, laying back down to stare at the sky. “It just finds a different way to leak out. Usually at the worst possible time.”

That seemed to amuse him. “Sounds like something my sister would say.”

I nearly sat bolt up like Frankenstein. “Ho-ly shit, did you just share a personal fact about yourself?”

His eyes stayed shut, but a faint frown tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t make it weird.”

“Wow. You have a sister?” I said, trying to keep my voice down so I didn’t wake Moira up. “I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

“What can I say? I’m a mysterious guy.”

“Booo. What if I tell you something personal about me? Will that unlock your tragic backstory?”

“You weren’t kidding about taking forever to sleep.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a flask, tipping it back like drinking while lying down was a practiced habit. “No use working yourself up over it. Try to sleep.”

He slipped the flask away and adjusted his arm back under his head. He’d been so close to opening up, I could feel it. Just like back at the bar, after Elowen’s attack. Something was clawing at him, just beneath the surface. I wouldn’t force it out of him if he really didn’t want to go there…but maybe I could take the first small step?

“When I was a kid,” I said, just loud enough for the fire to carry it. “I thought all my stuffed animals were frowning at me. Something about the fur around their eyes. I couldn’t sleep unless I turned them all to face the wall every night.”

Silence. Then, a soft exhale, almost the shape of a laugh.

“Yeah, there’s something wrong with you.”

I closed my eyes and smiled. I'll get there one of these days.

Notes:

Kinda a baby chapter compared to the last two, I know. Feels like anything past 7-8k stays past it's welcome. Plus it's a pain to edit. Idk, lemme know otherwise. Happy that you've read this far!

Chapter 14

 

The first thing I noticed was the quiet. The world hovered in that azure liminal space between night and dawn. Blue hour, my dad would’ve called it, so clear in all directions it almost felt like if I stared too long I’d fall up into it.

I sat up to stretch the stiffness out of my spine. The lumpy bedroll was cold on one side. My body missed the cozy L-shape of Anisa’s couch. But breaking the routine of distant bells marking the passage of time, as well as the mindless susurrous echoes through the castle wall, felt pretty good, and I looked forward to our destination.

A crackle drew my attention to the fire pit. Talan knelt beside it, feeding a few sticks into the slumbering embers. Her breath misted in the dim morning chill, her motions smooth and economical. A few dark blonde curls escaped from the tight braid running down the center of her scalp, and at some point during the night she’d changed into a sleeveless ash-gray gambeson over soft worn pants.

“’Morning,” she said without looking up. “Feel like stretching your legs and joining me for a bit of foraging?”

“Sure,” I rasped, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Y’might have to show me what to look for though.”

She nodded, beckoning me to follow. I got up to my feet with a final yawn and a cursory glance around camp. The absence near my bedroll gave me pause, the indent of Sage’s body wrinkled in the fabric left behind. I guess he did say staying asleep was a bit of a problem, and so far I’d gathered that he wasn’t one to stay in one place for very long, if he could help it.

“Your partner hasn’t wandered far, if that’s troubling you,” Talan called back, as if reading my thoughts. “He’ll return before long.”

“Oh, we’re not—we’re just—he’s more like a teacher if you can believe that. We’re not like a thing, we only met like…” I stopped talking when I saw her grimace at me. “Ohhh, I-I see what you…like a travel-partner. Which is…totally what we are—actually, you know what, nevermind.”

She shook her head like my blathering pained her more than it did me and let out a low breathy whistle that was somehow more embarrassing than any taunt she could have slung at me. Where was an abyssal trench when you needed one?

I followed her through the knee-high grass onto a small game trail that split the green and streaked down a gentle slope. Soon I was wearing the dew around my ankles, each step careful in the hush that belonged to songbirds and the soft buzz of waking insects. It was so easy to relax, and I found myself measuring the solace in long refreshing breaths that stirred in my chest. It lit something within me that I hadn’t realized had gone quiet. The Astrolabe thrummed in response. Not with urgency, but with a steadiness that matched the quiet anticipation of dawn. It didn’t seem to want anything in return, so I let it persist. It was enough to just feel it like a second heartbeat.

We reached the edge of a brook, its bank studded with mossy round stones, where Talan stopped beside a patch of green shoots bearing flat, paddle-shaped leaves.

“Snip near the base,” she said, crouching beside the plant. “One or two per stalk. More than that, and it stops growing right.”

I knelt beside her, copying the motion. The leaves were cool and pliant in my fingers. I recognized the plant from Last Legacy as one of those healing base ingredients found in the early levels, before players had the option to invest points in alchemy. I swirled the cuttings in the water, then brought it up to my nose to inhale deeply. They were so fragrant, like camphor, ginger, and resin. Awe and satisfaction filled me, assured with a sense of knowing, I’ve seen this before, even if it was only a pixelated version of it.

Talan worked in steady silence, thumbing off sections of other flora with the base of her knife. Despite her impressive size—she had to have at least half a foot on Sage—she could move with a careful awareness of the limit and the length of her weight and reach, and how to maneuver quietly through the world. I admired that, and wondered if I could learn to be so mindful, if I stayed in Astraea long enough.

We split off, with Talan veering upstream to refill our water flasks while I drifted the other way, following the gentle curve of the brook. The soles of my boots were getting pretty muddy, but I was gathering a pretty good haul so I kept going. I had watch my step, as some of the stones shifted treacherously underfoot, slick with algae and half buried in pockets of soft, sucking mud. So I was only half paying attention when my eyes slid over the carcass before I did a doubletake.

It lay half-swallowed in the grass, a stone’s throw from the stream. From a distance, it looked like a roughly like a rabbit, if a little too stretched in some places. It’s ribcage had ruptured through fur, sun-bleached bones gleaming where skin had split and curled back in brittle ribbons. It’s innards had long since congealed into a dark crust in the dirt, no longer rotting like it’d been there for a while.

That wasn’t what bothered me. This was the natural way of things in the wilderness. The process of nature reclaiming its own even held a sort of primal beauty to it, if I was a couple drinks in and feeling morbidly reflective. But this…this wasn’t that.

The carcass hadn’t been scavenged. Not by raccoons, not by crows, not even flies. The open viscera spread undisturbed, wrinkling under the open punishment of the sun. It was as if everything in the vicinity had unanimously agreed, we don’t go near that.

The grass had withered back in an anemic halo, like a lit cigarette pushed through paper. It wasn’t burned, just lifeless, as if something had siphoned the green right out of it. Even the air felt wrong, syrupy and acrid enough to sting my eyes. It stuck to the back of my throat, unnatural and cloying, leaving me with the taste of freezer-burned meat.

From this angle, it looked like the rabbit’s head had twisted upside down, flesh peeled back to reveal buck teeth angled into itself, like it’d reached back to bite at its own shadow. That’s when I noticed the points of strange, ivory white digits piercing through the muck. Vines. I’d mistaken them for entrails, sickly pale and jointed like fingerbones, leafing their way into the dirt. The realization came as a phantom pressure against my amygdala, a warning that stole my breath away, that something had burst out of this poor animal.

That’s new, I thought, my chest tight. I don’t know how, but the certainty felt soul deep, intense enough to know that this response was not entirely my own. Like my magical instincts had spotted something I couldn’t, and were screaming at me to run.

My foot sloshed into the brook for what good it did me.

“Watch it.” A hand gripped my arm. Talan had returned so silently I hadn’t heard her over the burble of the stream. She steadied me, eyes locked on the carcass. “Come along now.”

“What is that stuff?” I asked as she let go.

Talan didn’t answer at first, jaw tense and the line of her mouth a grim notch. Then she turned away and started walking. “You really aren’t from around here.”

The way she said it that made me feel exposed. She had a keen eye, and a part of me wished I could explain, but it felt wrong to do it without Sage around. I clambered after her, sneaking one last peek at the ruined patch.

“It’s blight,” she finally said, after a brittle silence. “Sprung up around the Lord of Shadows reign. Whatever dark rot he and his followers rooted into the world, it didn’t have the good sense to die with him.”

“So its a side effect of necromancy?” I asked. The word felt vulgar with the sun breaking over the horizon and the birds flitting unburdened through the air.

“Aye. Some say it seeps from his last strongholds. It’s the stain his power left behind.” She exhaled sharply through her nose as a shiver passed through her. “Moonstone Order dispatched pyromancers to burn the vines out. Was the only method that seemed to take. Gran helped lead those purges.”

I glanced at her. “Moira? Really? But wasn’t that only five years ago? She seems so…”

“Old as shite and half pickled with spite?” Talan offered, deadpan. I pressed my lips together all coy-like, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to say something like that about a fire mage, especially to her face. Talan didn’t seen to mind, only shook her head with a strange sort of admiration. “Gran’s a spitfire, like none other, make no mistake. Hell of thing to witness, back in her day. Watched her roast a wyvern right out of the sky for taking off with one of our billy goats.”

I had a bizarre cartoon image of a roast turkey plummeting from the sky while Moira shook her cane at it, shouting, You know what you did!

“But all that fire and brimstone came with a cost. Don’t bring it up, but her magic hand gives out sometimes. Gives her the shakes. Corruption left a splinter in her that she’s never been able to dig out, even if it never touched her heart. If we hadn’t lost most of our—”

She cut herself off, as if yanking the thought back before it could settle. I realized this was the most I’d heard her speak at once. “Ach. Bad luck dwelling on it.”

The words sat heavy, echoing what I’d kept hearing from people. How people had forgotten about the Starsworn and their sacrifices. It wasn’t out of callousness, but a way to keep distance from a grief too monstrous to carry. I tried to imagine what it meant to live through that, an army of the dead made up of friends, neighbors, family…and then to somehow keep going anyway.

We crested the last rise and dropped down to the camp beside the waystation. Moira sat on the back of the wagon, skinny legs dangling off the edge. She appeared to be in the middle of some long-winded explanation, while Sage leaned his shoulder against the the corner with almost uncharacteristic focus.

“…say they have mind control powers. Load. Of. Rubbish. Scrappy four legged scamps, they are, with a mean mug. But they can only hypnotize you the same way a shiny spinning coin does, with those peculiar muscles in their eyes. Just squint a little when you kick them back into the bushes. I was nary a quarter century old the first time I encountered a full pack of them, and yet here I am to tell the tale.”

Sage nodded along. “That must not have been that long ago.”

“Long ago enough, you shameless flatterer!” Moira snickered, swatting at his shoulder like the rascal he was.

Sage caught sight of us first and gave a lazy jut of his chin. Talan approached her grandmother and leaned in close, murmuring beneath the range of my hearing. Whatever it was, it sent a strange flicker over Moira’s face, before she sighed and made a dour clicking sound.

Talan didn’t wait for a reply. She ducked into the wagon, rummaged around, and reemerged with a small frosted vial. She stalked back toward the brook without another word, shoulders hunched against some invisible weight.

Breakfast was a quick, patchwork affair. I’d thrown together what I could from our rations and tried to pretend I wasn’t still thinking about the dead rabbit-thing, the vines, or the uncanny wrongness I’d gotten from simply standing near it.

“So which way did you say you were headed?” Sage asked, licking a smear of something red from his thumb.

“Northwest, to Egeria. I understand we have a ways to go together, before the roads take us our separate ways. Just delivered supplies to the Mournfall archives. Odd bunch, those scholars. You’d think those smartypants would learn some manners in all those books they’re so precious about. They’ve got their heads shoved so far up their own arses it’s a wonder they can read in the dark.”

I laughed. “I have it on good authority that they don’t get out much these days.”

Moira gave a long hum. “Suppose I can’t blame them, speaking of dark things. There’s been rumors. Shady groups have been spotted passing through small towns. Strangers showing up at dusk. Folk missing by morning. ‘S got the stink of cult all over it.”

Sage and I shared a glance. I had an awful feeling about where this could be going. “Cult? As in…”

Moira blew out a weary sigh, gaze drifting toward the lingering embers in the fire pit. “Shadow worshipers. Lurking in packs, hiding their faces under black hoods, chanting their rot-spells to make the dead dance to their whims. Gods forbid my soul ever lingers long enough to bear witness to a cruelty like that again.”

“So, we should be worried?” I asked. “They’re dangerous?”

Moira shrugged. "Fanatics are inherently dangerous. Their mere presence sows the seed of discord. People start watching their neighbors, whispering in the dark. Fear spreads, and scared folk don’t often do the right thing in a hot moment. You don’t need boogeymen when panic does can do the job for them."

A shiver raced up my spine. The stranger in hallway, when I had that awful vision...it was too much of a coincidence to be unrelated.

Moira rubbed her thumb along the crook of her cane, lost in thought. “Five years gone now, since the Starsworn cut the Lord of Shadows down. But you can never completely scrub the smoke from out your nostrils after a nightmare like that.”

Sage threw me a look that said, Don’t say anything.

I return it with an indignant one that said, Okay, I wasn’t going to! Get out of my head!

Moira clapped her hands together, dispelling the somber mood. “Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Makes the hairs on my chin stand up.”

She pinned me with stern expression when I chuckled at that. “And if you think that’s funny, darling, just wait when you get to my age. Your whole body becomes a weathervane for nonsense.”

A plume of smoke rose from the direction of the brook, the wind drifting it southbound towards Mournfall.

~*~

We had a half day’s journey to the next waystation, where Moria and Talan would part ways with us. Once Glim was hitched, digging a three-pronged hoof into the ground with what I could only describe as an eagerness to get moving, Moira climbed up to her post at the head of the wagon. The beast lumbered forward with a steady gait, its shrill whale-song occasionally rippling through the air. Talan bunked down under the oilcloth to steal some sleep from the day, arms folded, boots on, and her massive blade within reach.

Sage and I enjoyed the luxury of alternating walking breaks perched on the wagon’s edge, squeezed between sacks of fragrant wheat grain, or by joining Moira up front on the bench. She kept up a steady stream of chatter, from rising trade costs across the Suhail to a cautionary tale about a hexed hitchhiker that amounted to ‘beware of stranger-danger’, which sort of fell flat considering how readily she’d taken us in.

I recounted a couple movie plots to pass the time. They laughed at the right parts and sidled close by during the twists, which deluded me into thinking I could try my hand at being a bard if this whole Starsworn thing went belly up. Conversation ebbed and flowed, sometimes coming up with topics just to entertain each other, sometimes tapering off a little awkwardly in places.

In those quiet moments I soaked in the scenery, marveling at how similar it was to the pastoral loading screens from Last Legacy. The wagon wheels crunched over the dirt path as we wound between copses of trees all dressed up in new spring growth. Sunlight warmed the breeze, which carried the buzz of insects flitting between buttery yellow flower clusters. Meadows spilled over hills that swelled toward a vast forest clinging to the side of a looming mountain.

My feet swung over the end of the wagon, where I’d pulled out the leather-bound primer that Hugh had given me. It still carried the scent of herbal poultices, the paper raspy with a pleasant tooth.

“Is that what you’ve been hauling this whole time?” Sage seemed aghast, keeping pace with the wagon with easy long strides. “What, you going for some extra credit while Felix is off sipping tea in some eldritch spa, or whatever it is that rich people do?”

“It’s not homework. It’s an advanced primer on healing magic. I’m on this section about restorative glyphwork, specifically triadic sigils. This part’s about compatible magic-sinks for long term static spells, which is super cool because of how you can place—”

“Riiiiight.” He kicked a loose rock off the road. “I’m sure that’s a topic that’s all the rage at parties.”

I licked my finger and turned the page, revealing an ornate set of overlapping glyphs in carefully inked colors, each one tabbed and labeled. I unfurled one of the folded scraps of paper, finding it to be written in what I could only assume was a pictographic script before the language spell Felix placed on me kicked in. It morphed into tight, precise handwriting that indicated a focused, methodical mind. I wondered if Hugh penned all of this himself.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” I said snootily. “I bet you wouldn’t know a grimoire if it bit you in the ass.”

Sage scratched his brow with his thumb. “A grimoire’s where Felix keeps his underpants, yeah?”

I laughed at that, losing my place on the page. “I rest my case. Anyways, Hugh said I should read up so I can live up to my Relic’s potential.”

“Such a teacher’s pet.”

“I don’t see it that way. If I’d had a better grasp on any of this, I might’ve actually been helpful against that demon…” I trailed off, shaking my head and returning to the book. “I want to be ready next time.”

Sage frowned, stepped neatly around a steamy pile of Glim’s latest contribution to the world. “Don’t ya think it’s too early for you to be hauling around a guilt complex?”

I shrugged, flipping another page.

“I’m serious,” he said, waving a hand in front of me to peel my attention off the primer. “You did what you could. So maybe…I dunno, ease off the self-flogging until we hit the bar and can get good and drunk about it.”

“Is this a pep talk?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Is it working?”

I gave a dismissive shake to my head, returning to the book.

He pursed his lips to one side, squinting out into the tall grass. Whatever he saw out there struck him with some kind of inspiration. He raised a finger in the air, wandering around the side of the wagon where I lost sight of him, before he reemerged on the other side, holding something out. “How about now?”

It caught me completely off guard. This obnoxious mercenary, who was allergic to personal questions and had mysterious assassins jumping him in alleys, had picked a glossy-petaled yellow flower for me. It was such a cute, dumb, spontaneously sweet gesture that I couldn’t help but grin, half-embarrassed and half-melting.

“Ah! There it is!” He said with triumph. “It’s a ‘lil one, but it counts.”

He held the flower out to me so that it was just out of reach, and I’m one hundred percent sure that it was done on purpose. The smug upward tilt of his chin was a dead giveaway. I sighed, loud enough to register as a lukewarm protest, and snapped my book shut, stuffing it into my pack before hopping down from the wagon to take the damn thing. God, it was nearly as big as my fist, like a megalomaniac buttercup. Perfect for pressing into my sketchbook later.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. But like seriously, don’t. The last thing I need is word getting around to any other would-be assassins that I’m going soft.” He leaned in slightly, voice dipping into mock seriousness. “If anyone puts a knife to your throat and asks, you tell ‘em I got it fighting a meadow troll. ‘S important to uphold an image, you know.”

“You and I have led very different lives.”

He looked down at me, all infectious smiles and bravado that was starting to grow on me. “Give it time. I’m a terrible influence.”

I rolled my eyes and gave him a playful nudge. Just a quick brush of my arm against his. But that brief moment of skin contact was enough. Enough to notice how close we stood, how he glanced down to where our arms touched, right along where the darker markings striped his skin, the way it made my insides perform a funny little jig. My fingers twitched with the reckless urge to reach for him again. And from the way his gaze returned to my face, lingering in that amused way of his, I didn’t think he’d mind.

Fuck. Was I seriously crushing on someone already? That felt fast. I hadn’t even sorted through the emotional mess my last relationship left behind, not with how everything had changed so fast. Maybe this was just my heart reaching out for something familiar. The more time I spent around Sage, the harder it was to pretend I wasn’t drawn to the bright chaos of his personality. He knew how to have fun, and he was pretty badass with a sword, and maybe sexy-dangerous was doing a lot of work here…so what was the big deal? Not everything had to be serious. Why not have a little fun?

Thankfully, Glim chose that moment to let out another keening noise that reminded me that we weren’t alone, and that maybe this wasn’t the best time to act on impulses that I could come to regret later.

Then something else registered.

“Wait, meadow trolls? Are those a thing?”

~*~

Our party finally came to a stop when we reached the next waystation, where another handful of travelers lounged around platform blessed with a higher set of construction standards than the last. This one was decked out with a thatched roof over cedar picnic tables, from which hung weather-battered banners on each corner. I could only recognize the one with the Mournfall insignia, swaying lazily in the breeze while pointing us back in the direction we came.

A pair of bored Sunstone Knights slouched in the shade, keeping an eye on the road while exchanging the inane chitchat between old colleagues—weekend plans, grumbling about armor regulations when a heatwave threatened to fry local crops in the next few days, and something about getting caught up in a rat race. Which was honestly so relatable.

Ahead, the road split at the foot of a low mountain still a couple miles off. One path wound downhill toward Egeria, where a few scattered clusters of people lead beast-drawn carts. The other curved upward, disappearing into a dense forest spilling across quiet foothills toward Porrima.

Talan roused awake well before the wagon slowed, sitting up with perfect alertness that I could only envy. The entire wagon creaked as she scooted down, slinging her sword across her shoulder with a familiar ease of someone who’s never needed coffee to jump-start her brain.

I sped towards the front of the wagon after her, where a dozen travelers gathered. Voices layered over one another in different dialects, enough to trip the edges of my translation spell. One matched the musical lilt Moira and Talan’s speech, while another was spoken from the depths of the throat in truncated phrases, and so on. I wanted to eavesdrop on everything.

Something sweet and peppery hit my nostrils, and I beelined toward the source. A fruit seller had taken this opportunity to rest as a sign that now was a good a time as any to make a bit of money. A tantalizing spread lay across a linen sheet over one of the tables—giant violet raspberries wrapped in papery husks, spotted orange-sized globes that smelled like caramel, a bushel of something ridged like a pinecone. I had no idea what any of it was, but I wanted all of it.

I eagerly chose a few of each, which the fruit seller cheerfully tossed into a brown paper sack as I tore into my coinpurse. As I did, a smaller pouch nearly slipped out. It was made of lush green velvet, crushed flat around a cylindrical object, about the span of my hand. It took me a second, but I didn't have to open it to know who it’d come from. How did—no…did he really?

Sage had stayed behind by the wagon, but he seemed to know exactly when I’d turn. He gave a subtle shake of his head as he made a sneaky swiping motion across his collar, as in, not now.

I shot him a dark look that I hope conveyed the fact that we were absolutely gonna talk about it when we were not surrounded by merchants. From the way he rolled his eyes, I could tell we were getting pretty good at this nonverbal bickering.

The fruit seller cleared his throat and rubbed his fingers together. Shit, how much was each coin again? I tentatively handed out four shiny mid-sized coins. Talan appeared out of nowhere to reach over me, plucking two of them out of my hands before the merchant could snatch them up.

“Those are out of season,” she said to me. “Don’t let yourself get fleeced.”

The fruit seller’s smile twitched, but a glance at Talan’s greatsword killed any arguments before they began. He took what was left and then pretended we didn’t exist.

“Thanks.” I mumbled, trying not to sound too sheepish.

“Best reel in that tourist face before you hit Porrima.” She said, dropping a friendly hand on my shoulder. “They charge extra for gawking.”

Suitably chastised, I returned to the wagon with my loot.

Moira gave a bittersweet sigh, gently bouncing her folded hands in her lap as she watched the carts drift in. “Good company makes the journey so much richer. Alas, all pleasant roads must diverge eventually.”

“I hope to see you again!” I said earnestly, as I gathered my pack and coat around me.

“It’s been a real joy, madam,” Sage said, dipping into a theatrical bow and catching Moira’s hand, kissing her knuckles.

She chuckled at him, patting his cheek affectionately. “Perhaps one grand day, far from here and now, we shall recognize each others faces when we least expect it and rejoice. Safe travels, you two!”

Glim carted their wagon towards the waystation with the enthusiasm of a hungry cow going for the food trough. Talan managed a solemn salute, the barest upward flick of two fingers. I felt a twinge of remorse at their departure.

“I’m really gonna miss them.” I said as we took to the road north once more.

Once they were out of earshot, Sage turned to me. “Be honest, you think that spice hunter story was real?”

I shrugged, recalling one of Moira’s more fanciful yarns of a merchant ship wrecking against the rocky shores of a mysterious island harboring cannibals and a secret cursed treasure. I was pretty sure she was just trying to offload some fancy peppercorns onto us. “Sure, and I’ve got a bridge to sell you in Porrima.”

“Really? The story, not the bridge thing.”

“Please. It was a fun story, but pretty cliche, don’t you think?” Said the girl who isekai'd to another world due to a spell gone wrong.

“Speaking of bad deals,” I added, fishing into my pocket. The velvet pouch dangled from my fingers, shimmering like a beetle shell. “Did you take this from Crescia?”

Sage glanced over, nose wrinkling. “Who?”

“What do you mean who? Don’t play dumb.”

“I never met anyone going by that name in my entire life.”

He said it so smoothly that I actually stumbled, second guessing myself like the whole bar encounter had been some overly vivid fever dream. “The…the minstrel? From the bar?”

He squinted at the horizon, blinking as if he were trying to suppress a sneeze. Then his face lit up with a casual ah-ha! that I wish I could have taken a picture of. “Oh, her! Yeah, yeah...What about her?”

I pulled the flashlight out of the pouch. “Did you steal this. From that minstrel. We met two days ago.”

His ears hiked up in a suspiciously theatrical way while he suddenly found a scratch in his gauntlet incredibly interesting.

"Oh hey, it's your gizmo,” he said, voice thin with faux wonder. “Crazy. Wonder how that got there."

"Sage, are you kidding me?” I stomped my foot like I was casting Minor Tantrum. “You can’t just steal back payment! We made a fair trade!"

The dopey act dropped all at once, turning bitter. "Maybe it would have been fair if the plan had worked."

"Which—as far as I’m aware—was not her fault!"

"Zephyr,” he groaned, throwing his arms out and then bringing them back to his chest with a scoff, “the opportunity literally fell into my lap! You don’t ignore a sign from the gods like that!"

"Oh, don’t give me that! It's the principle of the matter-"

"Oh, here we go. It’s real easy to talk about right and wrong when you’ve never had to pick between staying alive and doing the ‘principled’ thing. People play fair when life plays nice. Now I bet you didn’t see this one coming—life doesn’t do fair, not for guys like me. You wanna talk about rules and principles? They weren’t made for people who scrape by their whole lives. You were right before, we have lived very different lives. I’ve learned it’s better to make a shitty call in the moment than sit there doing nothin’. So ‘scuse me if I don’t lose sleep over swiping something that should have stayed yours.”

I blinked, my mouth falling open. “What…are you talking about?”

"I—“ He stopped walking, briefly glaring up the the sky with a frustrated exhale. “Look, I didn’t plan on it, alright? But I saw it, and after what you said about it, it was…it was just reflex.”

He trailed off, rubbing behind his neck while trying to find something to scowl at that wasn’t me, the bluster draining out of him. “If that makes me a bastard, then fine. I’ll take that. Better that than watching you beat yourself up about it later for handing over one of the last things you have from home.”

He wasn’t facing me anymore. His posture had shifted, stiff and hackles raised, ears angled down. Then, without another word, he turned and walked in long-legged strides that made me scramble to keep up.

“It’s not up to you to decide that for me,” I called after him, softer now, trying not to sound like I was scolding him. “Besides, what if she spreads the word around that we can’t be trusted to honor a struck bargain? Or better yet, what’s gonna happen if we cross paths with her in the future?”

He snorted. "What are the odds that we ever see her again?"

"You really gotta stop saying things like that before you jinx us."

“Yeah, well, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

I barked a laugh. “That’s not how that phrase goes, but I guess it’s sort of…telling?”

He waved dismissively, as if I was being the unreasonable one here. I let him pull ahead, watching the agitated flicker of his tail kicking up dust and the tight set of his shoulders, like he was bracing for another reprimand. But I didn’t have it in me. Not when this whole mess made my chest ache in a stupid, complicated way.

I pulled the flashlight out, thumbing the switch to test the battery and nearly burned my retinas out before clipping it to my belt, cursing softly. I still didn’t condone it. I should’ve been more upset that he’d stolen it. Even though he hadn’t done it for himself, or shown any of the greed I saw in Crescia. He’d done it for me. Over a passing comment that he probably shouldn’t have even remembered. It was hard not to feel somewhat mollified by the fact that, when it came down to it, Sage’s version of caring meant he wasn’t above flirting with a little risk.

Don’t let his foolish charm fool you. He’s a scoundrel, mercurial as they come. He’s as likely to kill you as he is to kiss you if he thinks he could get away with it.

Felix may have known Sage a lot longer than me, but I knew there was more to him than that. Sure, it took some work to get past the swagger, not-so-clever deflections, and some questionable moral shortcuts, but there was a lot of goodness in him. Maybe not the easy to spot kind that rode up in shining armor, but it was snagged on all of his rougher edges nonetheless.

I had to jog to catch up. There was still plenty of journey ahead, and time enough to figure him out.

The road slithered alongside the mountain for couple hours, climbing gently before the forest’s edge swallowed it. Early summer air stirred with the headiness of undergrowth and sunbaked soil. It refreshed me in a way that I hadn’t felt before, like I could breathe fuller and think clearer. No smog, no sirens, no constant tug of time sliding out from under me. I found myself glad to be away from my apartment in the city, or my parent’s house on the suburban outskirts.

And yet, nostalgia still managed to sneak up on me. It took the shape of a tune that I hummed quietly—some half-remembered song that my Mom liked to sing while cooking, about yearning for simpler times and promises to reunite with loved ones. I could almost hear the clack of her tongs, the soft scrape of a wooden spoon around the bottom of a pot. The way she swayed with the rhythm, bathed in warm golden light as afternoon sun spilled across the kitchen tiles. Her voice sizzling low as she worked, until she’d catch Dad watching from the doorway with a familiar fond smile that seemed to reach through time.

Ahead of me, Sage’s ears angled toward the sound. Every now and then, he glanced over his shoulder like he was checking I hadn’t fallen too far behind. I couldn’t tell if he was still stewing about our earlier conversation. Whatever it was, he didn’t seem eager to break the tension.

The temperature dropped a couple degrees the moment we stepped under the trees. The air turned damp and rich, smelling of moss and warm animal musk. This was the type of place people imagined when they thought of an enchanted woodland. Towering evergreens soared skyward, some with trunks wide enough to park a car inside, assuming one could get this deep into the wild. Single strands of gossamer pulled down from branches, catching the light like glass threads. The undergrowth was a riot of green, with ferns taller than I was, mossy beards falling down branches, and florid lichens laced along stones and bark. Frogs chirped in rhythmic ambiance, rising and falling with the rustle of leaves like nature’s own white noise. Butterflies twirled in pairs through shafts of light, under hazy clouds of what looked like tiny jellyfish puffing above the road. And right as I spotted it, a small camouflaged squirrel detached itself from a tree trunk and glided to another with fuzzy, membranous wings. An inaudible squeak escaped from my throat.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, pivoting in place as I took in everything. “This place is incredible.”

Sage had stopped further up the road, his hands on his hips with an impatient expression. “You gonna gawp at every mushroom you walk by?”

I pointed off the road, keeping my voice low. “Did you see that flying squirrel just now? We have some of those on earth too!”

“Outstanding. Let’s keep moving.”

I readjusted my backpack up onto my shoulders and trudged a few steps forward, then immediately stopped again. “Whoa, is that Witch Floss?”

“Zephyr.”

“What?” I hissed, pointing to the green and red cluster of plant spaghetti. “It’s useful!”

He frowned, scanning our surrounding. “Why are you whispering?”

“Because of all this natural majesty! I’m telling you, this is insane!”

“You’re insane,” He said, turning to keep walking.

“Hey! I heard that!”

“You were supposed to, I’m standing right here and talking like a normal person!”

I shuffled faster after him, though the forest still pulled at my attention.

The trees on either side of the road rose like pillars, their limbs framing a swathe of sky streaked with melting colors. The setting sun filtered through the leaves in soft beams, as if the forest itself was setting the stage for it’s night routine. We made camp a short distance off the road, where the trees bowed back into a half-moon clearing that was likely a resting point for patrols or wagon trains. An owl hooted above us, echoing as long as the deepening shadows, italicized by the fading light.

We set up camp without much fuss, getting a fire going as cyan fireflies began to twinkle above our heads. Between them and the subtle shimmer dusting the leaves and tree bark, the forest felt aglow in a perpetual twilight.

The silence between us, however, was less than magical. It’d spread out long enough to have taken up all the space, looming like a mood-killing specter. I was thisclose to reaching my breaking point when Sage beat me to it.

“So,” he said, rummaging through his pack. “I was gonna save this for Porrima, but…seems like a good time to wave the white flag.”

He’d stripped off the armor and gloves, down to just the red jacket with the sleeves shoved up to the elbow. He held out a green-tinted bottle between two fingers, the brand slightly water stained and the liquid inside caught the firelight like molten topaz.

“That looks fancy,” I said warily. “Did you get that off Moira?”

He squinted at the label. “Yeah, but I tuned out halfway through her speech about flavors and oak undertones. Whatever it is, the lady’s got good taste in hooch.”

“Are you trying to bribe me into forgiving you?”

“Bribe is such a strong word. What about…a peace offering?”

I took the bottle with mock suspicion. “Alright. In the name of peace.”

Neither of us had the foresight to pack so much as a cup, so we passed the bottle back and forth. It had the burn of a spiced whiskey and the sweetness of a robust wine, warming me all the way down. The world around us softened after a while, the quiet hush of the woods lending the feeling of being tucked inside a snow globe.

“So, is all this really that crazy for you?” Sage asked, spinning an idle finger in the air.

I shrugged, pulling out the fruit bag. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve never been around a tree before. I didn’t grow up in a dungeon.”

“Sure, but the other stuff. Magic. Wildlife. The food.” He added, reaching in when I offered the bag, plucking out a violet raspberry.

“Yeah, this whole aesthetic is doing a lot for me. I mean, sure, there’s loads of incredible things on Earth too, but they always felt out of reach. Or just…banal, I guess? Like, yeah, technically I could plan a trip to Tokyo or Paris or wherever, but only after saving for months, haggling for time off, syncing calendars with three other people, and hauling myself through customs, jetlag, currency exchange, etcetera. By the time you get there, you’re too wound up thinking about how much time you have left to enjoy it." I frowned. "Or…maybe that’s just a me thing.”

God, where did that come from? I loved my life in the city. I loved my job, even if Jared—the other café manager—got the vapors every time I had to rearrange the pastry case. I loved the smell of roasted coffee beans and confections baking in the oven, the regulars who brought their dogs and the latest gossip. I loved my tiny apartment—four floors up, all exposed concrete and hardware, a pathetic kitchenette and floor-to-ceiling windows that let in way too much morning light.

I loved staying out until 2 a.m., half-screaming into karaoke mics by the waterfront with drunk friends. I loved hopping between food trucks and squeezing into shitty venues for shows that made my ears ring for days. I even secretly enjoyed complaining about bus delays and fake spring and how much better downtown used to be.

At least, that's what I'd kept telling myself. So when did all of that start feeling hollow? Maybe it was when tuition turned into debt I couldn’t reason with. Maybe it was the day I came home and found every trace of Zach scraped out of my apartment without warning, exposing how little of myself I had left over. Or maybe it was the slow erosion from a thousand small disappointments grinding down the future I thought I was building.

Was that what I was trying so hard to return to?

Sage must have sensed me spiraling because he spoke up right then, and I was suddenly so grateful for him being present. “What’s something on Earth you think would blow my mind?”

I considered for a moment. “Roombas.”

He blinked. “That some kind of rodent?”

“No, it’s a robot that lives in your house and eats lint and dirt. Cats like to sit on top of them and cruise around—and Sage, listen to me, it’s the cutest goddamn thing you’ll ever see.”

“You got pet dirt-eaters?”

“Well yeah, we can’t trust them to just roam free.” I tapped my chin. “Let’s see, well you already know about phones, so what else? We have this egg-laying, duck-billed, beaver-tailed, biofluorescent otter that can poison you and hunts by sensing electric currents underwater. There...are entire stores that only sell one kind of thing, like handbags or cupcakes. Oh, and giant metal birds that hurl you across the sky at like six hundred miles an hour.”

“Really?” Sage rubbed his jaw as he took the bottle. “Just for cupcakes?”

I stared. “That’s the one that got your attention? The one about tiny cakes?"

Sage fell into a haunted stare. "Tiny cakes killed my grandfather in the war."

My brain short-circuited. A wanted poster featuring a grim-faced villain crossed my mind: "DEAD OR ALIVE: ‘TINY CAKES’"…wearing frosting like war paint. Then Sage flashed me a dumb grin, and I completely lost it, wheeze-laughing so hard he snatched the bottle from me so it wouldn’t spill it. “You’re the worst!”

“Am not!” He protested, taking a long pull from the bottle.

Trying to recover, I examined one of the hard ridged fruits from the bag, turning it over in my hands. “How do you even eat this?”

“Here,” Sage said, reaching out.

His fingers brushed mine as he took it, a light touch that lingered a beat longer than necessary. He caught my eye for just a brief second, but it was enough to send a little static charge skating up my arm, prickling my cheeks. I attempted affecting an effortlessly unaffected effect, even though I barely paying attention to what he did with the damn thing, sort of lost in the dimple etching right next to the slow curve of a smile.

It wasn’t until the fizzy aroma of citrus made my nose twitch that I noticed him handing it back to me. His thumb grazed mine again, and this time I was sure it was on purpose. I didn’t trust myself to look at him, so I focused on the two halves of fruit. I popped one of the crisp, snow white segments into my mouth. The flavor was intense, like chasing caramelized peach with a wash of sweet limoncello. I made an indulgent noise, letting my head fall backward while I savored it.

“That good?” he asked, low and amused.

I nodded vigorously, offering out a piece for him to try.

His gaze was direct, full of that bold confidence that I was hopelessly becoming drawn to. Then without breaking eye contact, he leaned down and ate it from my hand. His lips touched my fingertips just lightly enough to give me a minor heart attack.

I covered it up with a shaky laugh and wiped my hand on my shirt like I could brush off the tingles spreading into my palm. It was so very hard to think straight when struck by the tingles. “Right, no big deal. Definitely not weird. Totally normal way to eat fruit.”

Sage leaned back on one elbow, watching me with a smug look. “All I gotta say is if you make a noise like that again, I might start getting ideas.”

I made a strangled sound like a cross between a giggle and a startled turkey. If it was up to me to summon a clever response to put out a fire right then, the whole forest would burn to ash around us. Oh my god, what is wrong with me?

I grabbed the bottle from him. “Quit hogging that.”

“Just giving you somethin’ to think about.” He winked, the blue from the fireflies giving his gold eyes a shine of verdigris. “Y'know, for when you take forever to fall asleep.”

I glared at him, taking a long drag from the bottle before turning away. The alcohol burned pleasantly, and I focused on that sensation instead of the way his words were turning my brain into hot mush.

The fire crackled beside us, our shadows flickering against the trunks. The fireflies drifted higher into the canopy along with the smell of moss and woodsmoke, blinking in and out of sight.

Sage shifted his leg to nudge my foot with his boot. “About earlier…” He ran a hand through the hair falling over his face, scratching. “I didn’t mean to be such an ass. That said, I’m still not sorry for, uh, you know…”

Watching him try to wring out an apology was a fascinating study of his fidgety side surfacing to try and save him from the moment. Pulling a knee up to rest his arm over, worrying his bottom lip with an elongated canine, his tail thumping against dead leaves. “What I’m trying to say is that you had a point. And…fuck, I’m not great at this. I don’t know where to go from here.”

“Wow,” I said in amazement. “That was…I don’t know what that was.”

He made a defeated noise. “Ugh, forget it.”

“Okay, okay, wait.” I cleared my throat, trying to reorganize my thoughts through the light haze of inebriation. “I don’t love that it went down like that, 'cause if we're not on the same page it's gonna be a real bad look. But now that I know why you did it, I gotta admit, the sentiment was…kinda sweet. ”

“You think I’m sweet?” he asked innocently.

“Don’t push your luck.”

Eventually, he nodded toward the bottle with a small but sincere grin. “So. Truce?”

I returned the smile, passing it to him. “Truce.”

 

 

Chapter 15

 

Something shook my leg, jolting me out of a fidgety half-sleep. The fire had withered to orange coals, barely giving off enough light to etch Sage’s crouched form by my feet. His ears turned and shifted while the rest of him held unnaturally still, one hand placed on the top of my foot as he stared into the forest. Before I could speak, he brought one finger to his lips.

I rose up to my elbows. The primer I’d been reading before dozing off slipped down my chest, snapping shut as it hit the ground. The sound made me jump.

I tried to follow his line of sight, but this area of the forest was so much denser than it had been since we first entered a couple days ago. We were lucky to find relatively even ground for camp that wasn’t too far from the main road. Thick hemlock trunks closed in tight around us, and the spaces between were a mess of briars and unruly thickets. During the night they seemed to have crept closer while we weren’t paying attention. The branches knit above our heads so thick they choked out the sky. Black claws stacked against blacker webbing.

The way Sage watched the darkness made the back of my neck prickle. Why did he wake me? I felt uncomfortably exposed while my vision adjusted. The longer I looked, the more I could imagine vague outlines looking back. A shape behind a rock, low to the ground, shifted when I looked straight at it, only to fade back into the shadows…or did it? Then something else moved—thin, like a tail, sliding through a gap in the brambles. I blinked, unsure if it had ever even been there.

My mind was playing the oldest trick in the book. A useful glitch in people’s brains that twisted bark grain into howling faces. It outlined the ridge of a hunched spine in the thick arms of brambles. It was the paranoia that made people stare at the end of the bed, waiting for something to creep up over the edge. Better to jump at shadows than be caught by whatever lurked within them.

Maybe that’s all it was. It was all in my head. Maybe Sage had heard a deer or a raccoon, or a branch falling in the distance—

A twig snapped behind us.

I flinched. Sage tensed, ears flicking toward the sound before his head followed. That was definitely not my imagination. The clearing had been so quiet up until now, the kind of quiet that carried the smallest noises across long distances. No breeze, no insects, none of nature’s usual sounds. The squeaking hiss of coals next to us seemed dangerously loud in comparison.

Sage’s posture was coiled, anticipating, trying to guess where the next sound came from. He slowly let go of my ankle and hovered around the grip of his sword, which he’d unbuckled for sleep and now held by the scabbard. His voice was barely audible, “That’s the third time that’s happened.”

I swallowed, afraid to make noise but I had to ask, to whisper, “What’s out there?”

His mouth twisted to one side. “Whatever they are, they’re getting closer.”

Cold dread sank into my gut. I inched closer to Sage, keeping my back to the dying fire. He glanced at me, and had the audacity to actually smile. “You’re not scared, are you?”

I shook my head. “Why would I be scared? There’s nothing scary about making vague, ominous statements in a pitch black forest, in the middle of the night.”

“Good.” His tone was light, but I noticed he didn’t move his hand away from his sword. “Just don’t look directly at anything that moves. And if you hear clicking, whatever you do, don’t go walking towards it.”

“That’s the least comforting thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well, I was gonna go with ‘it’s probably just a squirrel’, but I didn’t wanna lie.”

“How noble of you,” I muttered, reaching for my coat to wrap around me, then froze when a low tremolo broke the silence. The call echoed through the trees, not loud but oddly vulgar. A wet clicking followed, vibrating through the underbrush in short pulses.

Sage grimaced. “Ah, shit.”

“What the fuck was that?”

Something moved at the edge of the clearing on the far right. A flicker of mottled gray-brown between tree trunks, low to the ground on four legs.

I snapped my eyes down to my lap. Don’t look…“Sage?”

“I saw it.” He stood up, slow and loose. “Stay close. They’re about to try something.”

I pushed unsteadily to my feet and moved beside him, eyes fixed on the ground. It felt very counterintuitive. I wanted to snap my head around and look for where the sounds were coming from. My hands felt incredibly empty, and I felt like I should be doing something with them. “What are they?”

“Scavengers,” Sage turned in a slow circle, following something I couldn’t see through the underbrush. “Around these parts they call ‘em stalkers, skelters, that sort of thing. They don’t usually pose much of a threat.”

Wait. Waitwaitwait, that rang a Last Legacy bell. I could even see it in my mind, a random diary left out on a bench near a mountain village, glowing faintly the way that all lootable objects do. Fuck, what had it said? I’d spent hundreds of hours learning enemy behaviors, memorizing the most complete paths through dungeons, pouring over lore and flavor text. I knew all this, I had this!

It was tied to a sidequest involving these nocturnal pack hunters that were harassing livestock on the outskirts of a remote mountain community. They would attack in clusters, herding animals toward blind spots in the fencing. But there was something specific, something unique about these scavenger freaks that made fighting a whole pack of them an absolute nightmare—

Branches snapped behind me, fast and low to the ground. I spun around right as one of the creatures burst from the thicket.

I shrieked, lashing out blindly. A fireball erupted from my hand, blue-hot like a blowtorch jet.

“Whoa!” Sage yelled, staggering back from the sudden plume of heat.

My wild burst of magic found its mark, exploding against the creature. The skelter let out a shrill wail, thrashing like a worm dropped onto hot pavement. Smoke rose from its scorched hide as it twitched and keened. The flame illuminated several pairs of glimmering eyes watching from behind thorns and rocks, shrinking back against the light.

The thing about fire magic was that you had to protect yourself from it as well. I’d panicked, casted too fast, too hard, without any sort of buffer. The spell tore through my palm like I’d held a firecracker for a little too long. White hot pain whipcracked up my arm, my veins searing like molten wires. I screamed and clutched at my wrist, pain radiating up into my arm and behind my eyes until all I could do was bite down on my tongue and struggle to breathe through my nose.

“Zephyr!”

More pattering footfalls came from behind. I whipped around. Another skelter lunged, and I caught a glimpse of milky white eyes over a downturned mouth full of sharp teeth splitting wide—then it struck something midair with a bony ping.

The impact bloomed outward in a ripple, activating the invisible barrier in a brilliant flash. For a heartbeat, opaline light surged in a domed lattice around us like some enormous geometric soap bubble. The glyphs I had traced in the dirt glowed in sequence, one flowing into the next, as if the lines in the dirt were filling with luminous water until the entire sigil pulsed with dazzling light that nearly blinded us.

The skelter recoiled with a startled croak, it’s spindly limbs scraping over the ground before scuttling back into the thicket.

“Huh,” Sage’s posture relaxed. “So that’s what that was.”

I was almost as surprised as he was. It was the most complex sigil I’d attempted—stringing the runes into circular protection glyphs, then wrapping those into a ‘statement of intent’ around our campsite to create a warding sigil. It’d taken me several tries and backtracking over drawn lines. I hadn’t explicitly told Sage what I’d been trying to do, if just to save myself the embarrassment if it hadn’t worked. My breath came out in a rush. “Oh, thank fuck—uh, I mean, surprise!”

“Don’t look now,” Sage nodded toward the tree line, “but we’ve got an audience.”

Sure enough, more shapes slithered through brambles on all fours, snapping through foliage, followed by disjointed chittering. We were being surrounded.

Another creature darted forward from the other direction, rising up on it’s hind legs with little arms stretched out in an eerie imitation of beseeching human posture. Three more followed behind it, their skin drawn taut like vellum over sharp limbs and distended bellies. Mildew patterned blotches broke up their shapes in a natural camouflage. Glassy eyes peered from flat faces, until a pale membrane slid over them like a second lid. In unison they opened their mouths in a chorus of slimy clicks that sounded oddly like a film reel spinning.

I tried to step back—but my foot slid forward. Confused, I shifted to retreat again, only to lurch another step closer instead. The ground tilted under me, like gravity was pulling me in different directions. My legs moved wrong, disobedient, unsynchronized with what I wanted to do. I tried calling out to Sage, but it was like a hand snaked up through my mouth and pulled the words back into my lungs.

The skelters eyes pulsed in strange syncopated flashes that made my depth perception slide around. The more I tried to look away, the more the skelters loomed closer, filling my vision that was starting to haze around the edges. I was moving again, closer, too close—

Sage’s hands clamped over my eyes, anchoring me in place.

“What did I just say?” His voice was harsh and close to my ear. “The one thing I told you not to do?”

All at once my legs stopped dragging me forward, and I took in a horrified gasp. “Holy shit,” I rasped. “That was—I couldn’t stop—I felt myself moving, but I couldn’t control—”

“Yeah, no shit you couldn’t.” He sounded pissed, and I couldn’t blame him. I'd fucked up. “Don’t worry. It wears off.”

“I didn’t mean to look,” I said quickly, words tumbling. “They just…just reeled me in.” The effect was fading, but I could still feel the echo of it in my skull. I latched on to the only thing that made any sense, that vital piece of information I’d been missing. “They…gain a psychic effect in larger groups. It induces a kind of trance through visual and auditory strobing—“

“Oh, so you do know what they are. And you looked right at them anyway?” Still covering my eyes, he led me back away from the edge of the sigil. “That’s great, real interesting reaction.”

“I’m sorry,” I pressed my palms over my ears as if I could shut the whole feeling out, but it seemed to be coming from inside my head. In the game, they surrounded the party and inverted the inputs, so that left meant right, jumping made you crouch. Those things had hijacked my body in seconds, and I’d been powerless to stop it. “I had no idea they’d hit that hard in real life.”

“Pretty nasty in packs,” Sage agreed, lifting his hand away to let me blink through the dark. “But they spook easy.”

The clicking had faltered out now, trailing off in messy staccato as the creatures backed off. Sage snapped his teeth in a sharp, fake lunge. To my surprise, the nearest skelters recoiled fast, skittering back into the undergrowth.

One by one, they retreated, slipping into the trees like shadows folding inward. Only then did I realize how many had been there, watching. Waiting. Their hunched silhouettes darted between branches and vanished into the dark.

“Looks like they’re gone,” Sage said, quieter this time.

I slumped down at the edge of the fire, letting the tremors travel from my legs up through my back and shoulders. Everything under my skin felt unmoored, nerves frayed and twitchy under the surface.

Sage crouched beside me. “How’s your hand?”

“I’m fine,” I lied. I’d been too scared to look until now. Now that I wasn’t so distracted, the pain came roaring back with a vengeance. I tried to uncurl the claw of my digits, and an overwhelming stinging flared up my arm and took my breath away. “Okay. Now that’s the kind of mistake you only make once.”

“Nobody told me I’d have to keep you safe from yourself.” He grumbled, but it lacked any real conviction. He reached out in a lets see gesture, gently taking my wrist with a sympathetic wince.

The skin was a patchwork of white and pink where the layers had burned away. Blisters were already swelling up along the outer edges. The throbbing pain had a heat of its own, radiating like I was still burning. Sloppy work. I had to say something, felt the need to defend myself. “Fire magic is hard, okay? I don’t know why. Even after talking to an actual fire magic specialist I still can’t get it right.”

Sage raised an eyebrow. “You don’t gotta explain yourself to me. I know jack shit about this kind of stuff.”

I exhaled through my nose, chewing on my lip. “I can hear Felix scolding me now. ‘Magic flows from the clarity of thought, your lack of mental acuity muddles your intent.’ Well, I panicked, and fire was the first thing I thought of. It’s powerful but volatile, and if you’re not a hundred percent grounded in the moment then it’ll take the path of least resistance and tear a chunk out of you. There’s this moment before triggering a magical expulsion that I’m supposed to ‘impart the thaumaturges essence’, which is a neat way to saying ‘slap some magic on it’ so that it funnels in a clean avenue… Sorry, am I magicsplaining? I don’t know if I’m making any sense.” I swallowed down the embarrassment. “Some mage I’m turning out to be.”

“Hey.” Sage shifted closer, close enough that I could smell the woodsmoke clinging to his jacket. When I didn’t look up, he tilted my chin up until our eyes met. “You wanna know what I saw back there? You set up a shield that saved both our asses, then you lit that bastard up so bad the rest of them ran for the hills. That kind of magic is not nothing. You think I give a shit about how pretty your technique is? All that matters is that we’re still alive. Everything else is showing off.”

His thumb traced along my jawline as he frowned down at my burned palm. “Just do me a favor and don’t torch yourself while you’re still getting the hang of it. I like you better in one piece, alright?”

That made me chuckle. He let me go, but stayed close.

Then with a sigh, I drew up healing magic and pressed my thumb to the worst of the damage. After gritting my teeth through the harsh initial sting, I felt the spell crawling beneath the surface like a swarm of ants, but after a moment the pain dulled. The burnt skin sloughed off with soft presses, regenerating as a smooth shiny layer under a trail of faint shimmery wisps. Why couldn’t all magic be as straightforward as that?

I flexed my fingers. The skin still felt a little itchy like a sunburn, but was otherwise good as new. If only I could have had this kind of power when I broke my ankle as a kid, then I wouldn’t have spent two months in a cast while my friends forgot about me.

When I looked up, Sage was watching me still, silent now with brows furrowed.

“What?”

“Mm? Nothing.” He looked away guiltily, then gave a tired huff of laughter. “Nights, you sure know how to stress me out. I could use a drink.”

“Sorry,” I said, resolving to get the first round once we arrived at Porrima.

“But hey, now we know your fancy shield spell works,” he added, glancing toward the lines traced into the dirt.

“It’s called an Aegis sigil.” I hated to think what would have happened if it hadn’t worked. Sleep had fled my body entirely, replaced by a jittery awareness that had me studying every shifting shadow. The fire collapsed into cinders, darkness pressing in on all sides, and I deliberated whether it was worth the effort to scrounge up another log.

From deeper in the woods came that bone-chilling clicking. My whole body tensed. The sounds were faint now, followed by a trilling that sounded like peals of uncontrollable laughter. They might as well have been right behind me for how my heart hammered. Maybe those skelters had found some easier prey.

I shifted closer to Sage. “What else is hiding in these woods that I should know about?”

He shrugged, maddeningly unconcerned while he laid himself out onto his bedroll again, tucked into the base of a tree. “The usual? Critters, will o’ wisps. Maybe a few centaurs…”

“Werewolves?” I whispered.

“What?” He looked at me in surprise. “No, of course not, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I was just asking! How is that ridiculous?”

“Because,” He drew out the word as if explaining to a small child. “It’s not the full moon.”

“Oh.” Right. It was hard to tell under all the canopy cover, but that tracked given how much time had passed since that night in that bell tower. “What about vampires? Don’t they hide out in old ruins?”

“Zephyr, if a vampire shows up, I’ll punch it right in its smug little fang-face.”

I smiled a little. “What if theres a lot of them?”

He smacked his fist into his palm. “I’ll punch every last one. Line ‘em up, we can make a game out of it.”

Well, if he was going to be casual about it, then I guess I could try to relax too. But that was easier said than done. The fact that we were objectively safe didn’t mean that I could put the encounter out of my mind just yet. We hadn’t noticed the skelters until they were practically on top of us. Who knew how long they were out there, watching us, waiting for the right moment to strike? Who was to say that they wouldn’t come back?

I wrapped my arms around my knees. The worst part about that whole encounter was how thoroughly those little creatures made me their plaything. I knew there was something fucked up happening, but I was completely helpless to stop it. I easily could’ve walked right out of the ring of safety, straight into a dozen sets of teeth.

“Look,” he said, adjusting his position. “If you’re really that scared, there’s room over here for you to snuggle up—”

I shot him a withering look.

“—Or, you know, not snuggle,” He amended, raising his arms defensively. “We could just lie here rigid all night like good little gods-fearing Velans.”

Tempting. Not that I wanted to be the little spoon, because I didn’t think my pride could take another hit, but the idea of someone else’s warmth and heartbeat keeping the dark at bay sounded pretty comforting.

“What I mean, Zeph, is if it helps you get some sleep, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

I snorted. “Oh, I’m sure you don’t mind—“

“But, if you really don’t think you can control yourself around all this—“ he gestured at himself, “—then maybe you should stay over there.”

“I’m sure I can manage, it’s you I worry about—“

“Because I’m warning you, if you can’t keep your hands to yourself—“

He cut himself off, eyes going wide when I gathered my blanket around me and crab-walked with my bedroll over to him before he finished the sentence. I gave him an aggressive what? look before dropping down beside him.

“Okay then,” he mumbled, caught somewhere between amusement and uncertainty. My shoulder bumped into his armpit, and I mumbled an apology as I put my back to him, feeling the instant warmth of his body seep through my layers. He had one arm pinned behind his head, the other stranded over his sternum. I curled into a ball, pretending I wasn’t hyperaware of his proximity or the way his tail cuff thunked against the ground.

We lay like that, stiff and self-conscious for some time. He didn’t follow up with any more teasing, thankfully. Just let me stay there as I wrestled my thoughts into something that resembled stillness. There would be time to feel silly or embarrassed later. For now, we were safe. The Aegis sigil had worked beautifully. But would it work on everything? Could it stop something bigger?

“Just making sure,” I said quietly, staring into the cinders. “Are there any forest trolls?”

He chuckled. “I think we’d have bigger problems if a troll was able to sneak up on us.”

“Fair point. What about ghosts?”

“Definitely. Those’ll absolutely get you.”

I turned over to check if he was being a smartass. To my dismay, he met my gaze and nodded solemly. “It’s true. You can’t punch a ghost, your fist just goes right through it.”

“Wait, is that your only criteria for dealing with monsters? Whether or not you can punch it?”

“It’s worked pretty well so far.” It was a little hard to tell, but I think he frowned. “Let’s avoid any graveyards, just to be safe.”

I laughed under my breath. “Mkay, if you say so.”

He made a small, satisfied noise, like we’d agreed on a very serious matter. This time the quiet felt more settled, purposeful. Already I could feel the tension in my limbs draining away. There was something about his voice that filled the empty darkness, made it feel less hostile. His warmth pressed steady against my back, and I found myself matching the rhythm of his breathing without thinking about it. It struck me how easily he could do that. How he could pivot my anxiety towards amusement, comfort even, like the forest couldn’t touch us within this small circle of shared warmth.

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” he murmured, voice just this side of a purr. “Though y’know, you don’t have to use monsters as an excuse to get close to me.”

A breath of laughter slipped out before I could stop it. “There it is. The signature Sage charm. You can’t help yourself, can you?”

“What can I say?” He grinned, and I’d be damned if it wasn’t pretty fucking charming at point blank range. “You have a way of bringing it out of me.”

I felt my cheeks warm and was grateful for the darkness. “ Yeah, well,” I ahemed, rolling my head back to stare up at the branches, trying to rein it in. “Seriously, though. You’re not worried?”

I felt him move, and I realized he was shaking his head. “Nah. I’ve got you, don’t I?”

There was a true sincerity in that statement that I usually didn’t expect from him, a confidence didn’t come from posturing. It was exactly what I needed to hear.

“Thank you. That makes me feel a lot better.”

“I’m glad,” he said, Then he nudged my foot with his. “I’m also very available.”

“Oh my god—“

“No pressure! Just putting it out there. G’night.”

Ridiculous, I thought as I closed my eyes. But I’d think about it.

~*~

My face was smushed against something warm and solid. I smelled woodsmoke and sleep and leather… Oh, it’s just Sage, I realized with a sleepy one-eyed blink.

Whoa, when had that happened? My arm had draped itself possessively across his ribs, and one of my legs had tangled between his. I must’ve shifted onto him during the night. If I didn’t move before he woke up, I’d never hear the end of it.

His breath ghosted along my temple as I shifted. His arm had scooped around me, resting on my hip with one finger hooked firmly into my belt loop. This is so unfair. How was anyone supposed to think clearly when faced with all this? The way his hair fell over his forehead, the surprising softness of his mouth when it wasn’t curved in that cocky grin. The comfortable weight made everything feel…permissible, dreamlike. Like hitting the snooze button. At least just for a little bit longer.

My gaze drifted down to the set of scars over his stomach, mapping each pale line over the divots of his muscles. It took a surprising amount of effort to keep from tracing them with my fingertips, even as I remembered him teasing me about keeping my hands to myself. The longest one reached toward his hip, and I found myself following that path with dangerous interest, along the sharp cut of his hip disappearing under his waistband…

Anyway, that’s when I noticed the dinosaur bopping around our camp.

I made an involuntary high-pitched noise in the back of my throat that could have shattered glass.

Sage jolted upright with a snort and a curse, nearly headbutting me as he instinctively reached his sword. “Gah—what? What is it?“

“Shh!” I pointed to the enormous, scaled creature on the other side of the campfire. My god, it was a baby T Rex! A small kaiju! It’d been snuffling at the perimeter of the Aegis sigil before I’d startled it, sending it toppling over itself like a chicken caught in a wind gust. It flared an indignant scarlet frill at me before scuttling back through the thicket.

Sage rubbed his face, blinking. “Was that a salamander?”

“I think that was their king.”

“Ugh, fucking hells, Zeph,” He groaned, flopping back and covering his eyes with the inside of his elbow. “Don’t wake me up like that unless we’re actually being mauled.”

I felt the flush rising up my cheeks. “It startled me,” I protested under my breath, straightening my clothes while my pulse tried to settle down.

“Yeah, well, you startled me.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Least you didn’t torch us both this time. That would’ve been a hell of a way to go.”

I bristled, my healed palm curling on its own. That stung, even if it was a joke. After everything he’d said to me last night? He didn’t have to rub it in, at least. I stood up in a rush, brushing off my legs. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He clicked his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?” I pressed my lips tight, waiting for an answer. Instead, he blew out a long noncommittal breath. I could practically see the gears turning while he struggled to come up with something that wouldn’t make this worse.

“You know,” I snapped, “you’d think after last night—what with the pack of brain-fucky monsters that tried to eat us—that there’s a pretty good reason to be a little jumpy. So…excuse me for reacting to an actual dragon prancing around our camp. Next time I’ll roll out the welcome mat, set out a plate and silverware while I’m at it.”

He rolled his head toward me, peeking one eye from under his arm. “You’ve never actually seen a dragon, have you?”

My nostrils flared, and I ran my tongue over the edge of my teeth. “First of all, yes I totally have! Second, that’s not the point.”

He gave an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t know, maybe you’re overreacting a little. Everything was fine last night, right? Your eggy-spell worked.”

“Aegis.” I yanked my bedroll away to fold it back up, unable to continue glaring at him. I couldn’t believe how I’d woken up fawning over him! God, what if he’d been awake? What if he’d seen me staring? The mortification burned hotter than any magic mishap. “Whatever. Let’s get out of here before more things start showing up.”

He pushed himself upright with a grunt, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just when we were getting along so well. Y’know, this is why I don’t stick around for any morning after stuff.”

I fumbled my bedroll, nearly dropping it to the ground as I spun around, wrinkling my nose. “What?”

The way he instantly seemed to regret opening his mouth gave me little comfort. “Gods…” He groaned, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes for a moment. “Can we start over? Everything was fine, and now you’re upset, and I don’t know what went wrong. One minute you were happy to cozy up all through the night, and now we’re fighting over nothing.” He paused, wincing. “Well, other than the fire thing I just said. That was just a dumb joke—I’m sorry, okay! Let’s just go back to how it was, yeah? We don’t have to make this weird.”

I blinked at him, floored. “Wow. Let’s be clear, last night wasn’t about getting cozy. I was scared. You offered peace of mind, and I took you up on it. Don’t…cheapen that by turning it into something it wasn’t. It was…strictly practical.”

“Right. Got it.” He stood abruptly, brushing dirt off his pants. “Glad to be of use.”

I turned away before I could say something else I might regret. To my alarm, the edge of my bedroll had started to singe under the crescent imprints left by my nails. I quickly slapped the burning bits away before it could spread any further, throwing a quick look over my shoulder in case Sage had seen. Thankfully, he was busy rummaging through his own gear to have noticed. I blew out a silent breath of relief. Yikes, that was close.

Now that the spell of shared warmth was thoroughly extinguished, the rest of the morning passed with a brittle kind of civility. We packed up in silence and hit the road again.

Even during the day the whole forest floor was cast in a sort of grubby twilight. The branches arched overhead so that the sun and wind was mostly blotted out, stagnating the warm air like a terrarium. Time and foot traffic had eroded the dirt road down below the natural top layer, exposing tree roots and layers upon layers of sediment on either side. The winding path cut through the trees, gaining a little bit of altitude with each footstep kicked through dead leaves and fluff that clung to my skin in the rising heat.

We came to a wooden bridge over a shallow stream, the railings sagging suspiciously against rusty nails, but Sage assured me that if the thing was sturdy enough for heavy carts to roll over then we ought to be fine. If not, then I supposed I’d spend the dizzying four foot plummet into the stony water below to make peace with my gods. The planks were smooth as driftwood with a few patchworks of sea-green lichen and mosses. Enough dirt had collected in the gaps for tiny plants to take root and spring out with bright little bell-shaped flowers.

Which reminded me—we’d hardly come across anyone since entering these woods. All evidence of travel, like wheels tracks carved into mud patches or footprints, was old enough to have faded mostly away. It was like we’d entered a pocket dimension, where nothing else existed outside the trees. Maybe it was the off season? I had no idea how trade routes worked.

We dropped our packs in the center of the bridge, supported by a pillar of mortared stone and made as good a spot as any to take a break. We were well past the point of pretending we had anything pleasant left to say. We’d burned through “I Spy”, exhausted “Yes, and” after one too many arguments about whether it was possible to out-drink an ogre, before giving up and walking in disgruntled silence for the past couple hours.

No sooner had I dropped my butt onto my pack with the filched smutty romance novel Felix had been reading in Anisa’s study—Sea Bound IV: Maelstrom of Desires—when Sage started rehashing the same route details we’d already gone over several times over the last week. “If we keep up this pace, I reckon we got three or four more days ‘til the road spits us out onto the city outskirts. From there we can—”

“Hold on,” I held my finger in the air to silence him, poking my tongue into my cheek. “I’m almost done with this chapter. Just got to the part where Chadrick Thundermelt has been ensnared by the archdemon’s shibari trap or whatever, so I think we all know what kind of climax this story’s heading—hey!”

He snatched the book out of my grip, throwing me a disgruntled look before reading off the page I’d bookmarked. “With a needy whine, Chadrick fell quivering to his knees, his lips brushing the polished black boot before him…What in the hells is Hunnicutt teaching you?”

I preened at my nails, not bothering to correct him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Huh, didn’t know the doc had it in him.” He snapped the book shut and thrust it back to me, muttering something under his breath. I didn’t ask him to repeat it, and instead flipped the book back open and pretended he wasn’t there. If he thought it’d be that easy to get a rise out of me, then he was dead wrong. I was a rock. I was an island.

“Nothing to say now?” he prodded, pretending to fuss with his rolled up sleeves. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re still mad.”

“Nope.” I said, not bothering to look at him.

He narrowed his eyes. “Sure seems like it.”

“I’m relaxed. I’m living in the moment. I have moved on from any lingering negativity.” Then in a moment of weakness, I glared at him for just a fraction of a second. “You should try it.”

The silence between us stretched over the trickling water broken by the bass notes of bullfrogs bellowing from somewhere out of sight. He paced a few steps, kicked a twig off the bridge. Smacked a dandelion gone to seed, fluffs drifting into the air. Huffed loudly.

I ignored him.

He broke first. “All right, I’ve had enough of this. Get up.”

Frowning, I turned another page just for show. “Huh?”

“You. Me. Let’s go, right now.”

I blame the book’s subject matter for the directions my thoughts carried me before I realized what he was talking about. “You want to fight? Right here, on a rickety bridge?”

He shrugged. “You’ve been looking for some hands-on training, right? C’mon, we’ll take it nice and slow.”

Well, hot damn! I stood, already getting a little excited but trying not to show it. “So, what? You gonna swordsplain at me first?”

He scoffed. “No, no! No swords. Don’t take this the wrong way, but uh, you look too…too sweet for it.”

“Sweet?” I scoffed right back, cracking my knuckles and rolling out my shoulders. “I’ll show you sweet.”

Sage’s amused gaze dragged slowly up my body with clear interest. “Oh, I just bet you will.”

My heart gave a stupid little skip. He’s already trying to psyche you out! Focus! I tied my hair back, stepping into the open space in the center of the bridge. He wanted to spar? Excellent. We could fucking spar.

“And no magic either. Other than that—come show me whatcha got!” He spread his arms wide, looking remarkably chill for someone who was about to get obliterated into next year. “Come on, dukes up. Gimme your best shot.”

I squared myself, wound my fist back and really threw my weight into the punch, hitting him directly in the chest.

He took the blow without so much as a wince.

I stared at my fist, then at him, then back at my fist again, momentarily resenting how my genetics had seriously stiffed me out of any real upper body strength.

Sage tilted his head. “Good form. Anisa set you up pretty good.”

I perked up. “You think so?”

“Stay like that.” He slid his fingers around my wrist to hold me steady, evaluating me in a way I’d never seen him do before. The attention made me feel unbalanced, giddy and slightly lightheaded. I could almost feel everywhere his gaze touched, as if he were trailing his fingers along my arms, across my shoulders and spine. A switch had been flipped, wiping out any lingering animosity. Where had this intensity come from?

I swallowed hard, trying to collect myself. “Look at you, finally taking this mentor thing seriously. I was starting to think you’d never teach me anything.”

He gave a lazy half-smile. “I’m more of a hands-on kind of guy.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise—”

Sage swung out his right foot, sweeping my legs out from under me. I yelped, loud enough to startle a flock of birds out of their roosts, but he caught me before I could hit the planks. His arm slipped around my waist, pulling me against him as light scattered through the leaves so that it rained brilliant sunbeams over his shoulders.

He looked incredibly pleased with himself. “First lesson—never drop your guard.”

He held me in a low dip, one hand splayed across my lower back, the other still clasped around mine. My pulse raced at how easily he’d taken control, how strong he felt holding me like this. For some reason I couldn’t catch my breath, couldn’t take my eyes off the satisfied smirk playing at his lips.

Sage guided me back up to my feet, more like a dance partner than a sparring partner. We lingered like that for a few heartbeats, inside each other’s space. For the briefest of moments, something faltered in his expression, where his confidence wavered and his gaze roamed down my features before snapping back up. He stepped back quickly, raking through his hair, and I found myself fiddling with the end of my ponytail.

I cleared my throat. “So, uh…”

“Right,” his voice was rougher than before. “Let’s try this again.”

This time I was ready. I loosened my knees, bouncing lightly on my toes. I may not have the size, strength or the experience to take Sage head on, but if Anisa taught me anything, it was how to be relentless.

“Alright, let’s see what you do when—“ He moved to grab my wrist, but I was already hopping back and out of his reach. When he repositioned to lunge again, I didn’t fight it. Instead, once he had me I stepped forward, turning my captured arm in a tight circle that broke his hold. Before he could reset, I pivoted on my heel and levered his extended arm to push him past me. He stumbled, surprised by suddenly having nothing to grab onto.

Any fleeting concerns about him reacting poorly to getting maneuvered vanished when he recovered with a cheerful laugh, letting out a low whistle of appreciation. “That was pretty slick!”

It was impossible for me to repress a prideful grin. I did a little zigzag hop, feeling lighter than I had all morning.

He circled me, feet quiet over the wooden planks as he reassessed me with the calculating eye of someone who’d sized up plenty of opponents. “You’re quick, I’ll give you that. and your instinct to deflect was spot on. But if I know Anisa’s methods, we’re gonna have to shake some of that polish off.”

“Meaning…?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want to square up with Anisa in a fair fight. But your form is all…proper. Real academic-like.”

I crossed my arms. “You say that like having correct form is a bad thing.”

“It’s not,” He said with a shrug, but the little roll of his eyes gave his real opinion away. “You can spot moves copied out of a book from a mile away. All those ones with techniques that have these long winded artsy names, like ‘Seagull Pilfers the Sandwich’. In the real world, no one’s gonna ring a bell and call time out when things get tough. Now, you tell me—if a gang of thugs jump out at you in a dark alley, are you gonna do a little dance like a duelist waiting for them to come at you one by one, or are you gonna dig your heels in fight like your tail depends on it?”

“Is that how you learned to fight? In dark alleys?”

His face shuttered for a second, then schooled into something wry, like he’d caught me peeking behind a curtain I wasn’t supposed to see. I expected him to drop it, or to make a joke about seagulls, but instead his words came out measured, edging the line of a decision. “Something like that. Nothing like getting rushed at with a broken bottle to teach you some life lessons. Now get back into stance.”

His tone had lost some of its humorous edge, leaning bitter like he was speaking directly from experience. Not for the first time, I was struck by a desire to know more. He clearly hadn’t grown up with many of the same privileges as the other Starsworn. From how he talked, and the way he carried himself, it seemed like he was very well familiar with the shadier side of life. So what singled him out as someone worthy of a legendary Relic?

Reluctantly, I did as he commanded, filing the moment away for later. He adjusted my elbows, straightening my shoulders, repositioning my thumb. “Keep these under your eyes, protect that pretty face…”

The casual endearment sent warmth spiraling through my chest. Then he slipped behind me, hands skimming over my hips, which coincidentally was precisely when all my marbles scattered. “Whoa, you getting fresh with me now?”

The grin he flashed me was pure mischief. “Just fixing your center of gravity. Get your head out of the gutter.”

As soon as he said that he stepped between my feet, kicking my legs further apart. I gasped, my mouth falling open while a devilish thrill chased through my body. Turns out I was extremely into whatever the fuck that was.

Now that my concentration was thoroughly derailed, it so much harder to pay attention to whatever the hell Sage was saying. Something about leverage, keep your palm down, blah blah blah. I’d been reduced to minimal brain capacity, hyperaware of the way his voice rumbled when he spoke close to my ear, or how his calloused fingers adjusting my wrist position sent little shocks up my arm.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from making an embarrassing sound. Finally he gave a grunt of approval, taking a step back to survey his work. “You get all that?”

Nope, I was too busy imagining where else I want those hands. “Hm? Oh, sorry. I was singing a jingle in my head.”

“Good,” He grinned, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. “’Cause now I want you to forget everything I just told you.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

He tapped at his temple. “Thinking’s a waste of time. It’ll only slow you down. In the heat of battle, it all comes down to one thing: might. Strike first. Hit ‘em hard and hit ‘em fast. Lose your mind, and come to your senses.”

“I…guess that makes sense?” It was the opposite of everything Anisa had taught me about calculated moves and proper forms, but maybe Sage was onto something here. Maybe that was what I’d been missing, and I’d been so caught up in checking all the boxes that I’d forgotten to roll with the tide of a fight. “Lose my mind, come to my senses?”

He shrugged with one shoulder. “Eh, read that in a bathroom stall somewhere. Oh, and by the way,” He made some sleight of hand motion that I couldn’t follow, and just like magic, he produce my coin purse from out of nowhere. “You might want to keep better track of this.”

I blinked, patting my belt where it should have been. I couldn’t even be mad, that was kind of impressive. “You little shit! When did you swipe that?”

“Right at the beginning, it was practically the first thing I told you.” He tossed it up in the air, looking insufferably pleased with himself. “Never drop your guard.”

“Okay, you’ve made your point,” I held out my hand. "Now give it back."

He smiled—darkly confident, sweetly dominant—a firm challenge written in the curve of his lips. "Come here and take it."

A bright recklessness flared through me. Before I could second-guess myself, I dropped into the loose stance he’d shown me, revving up like he’d uttered the secret activation code to a sleeper agent. I was gonna make him think twice about pickpocketing me.

I came at him fast with a straight punch that he deflected with his forearm, immediately following with a knee aimed toward his ribs. He twisted away, always one step ahead of me, then caught my arm to spin me past him. Instead of fighting it, I went with the momentum, ducking and circling behind him where the coinpurse dangled from his fingertips—so close!—but he pulled away at the last second, leaving me grasping at empty air. He tsked with a smug little shake of his head. "Gonna have to do better than that."

The next few minutes blurred together in a dance of near-misses and breathless laughter. Every time I slipped past his defenses, he’d redirect and create distance, dragging me along the bridge in this ridiculous chase. Soon I was panting, my bangs were sticking to my forehead, my heart hammering with pure exhilaration. Sage’s face had lost all bitterness from before, replaced by something fierce and delighted. The argument from this morning could have happened to different people.

I managed to whack the tip of his ear with a wild flick, and his eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "Now we're talking!"

That’s when his tail whipped around behind my knee, buckling my leg. I went down hard, catching myself on my palms with a burst of surprised laughter.

"That's cheating!" I protested, rolling away from his follow-up grab.

"How is that cheating? That's just being resourceful," he shot back, but he was grinning. "Besides, what are you gonna do about it?"

"Okay then. I see how it is." I pushed myself up, only a little breathless. “Quick question, do you remember what I did to the first person that stole a coinpurse around me?”

He made that sneeze-face he got when struggling to figure out what I was talking about. In that moment I struck out and snapped my fingers to summon a spark of light right at the tip of his nose. He swore and flinched back, giving me just enough time to dart in and grab my prize.

“Score!” I yelled, holding the coinpurse high like a trophy for the forest and the birds and the bugs to witness, spinning in a victory circle on the bridge. “Ladies and gentlemen, the scrappy newcomer pulls off the impossible! A real David and Goliath victory, right before our very eyes! Now that is how you deal with pickpockets!”

“I guess I had that coming after the tail trick.” Sage was still rubbing the spark’s afterimage from his eyes. “Whaddya mean the first person? I take it you weren’t talking about me, were you?”

“Eh? Oh, no. Way before that. The thief at the Saucy Gull.”

His brows shot up in recollection and then nodded. “Oh, right. When you tackled that kid and busted up his nose. In front of a dozen armed thugs, if I remember right.”

Well, that sounded way less cool when he said it, but whatever, this was not the time to let him sell me short. I tucked the coinpurse back into my belt, still buzzing from the excitement. “My point is that he had it coming, and you should never underestimate how tenacious I can be.”

“Fair enough. You are full of surprises.” he acquiesced, looking into my eyes with a keen interest. “You might actually be able to give me a run for my money one of these days. And I think I’m actually looking forward to seeing what else you can get up to.”

I smiled, reflecting the appreciation. “Beats being awesome all by myself.”

He laughed, reaching down to shoulder his pack. “Come on. Porrima’s waiting and we’re wasting daylight.”

I followed, feeling optimistic. Maybe this partnership was going to work out after all.

---

Some more art, courtesy of @Spiderlegeyelashes  

Chapter 16

Three more days passed since our sparring session on the bridge, and the forest seemed determined to punish us for every moment of levity we’d dare to enjoy. We were forced to backtrack after Sage led us down the wrong path at a surprise fork in the road, which would have been fine if he hadn’t refused to admit that we were lost. That cost us a significant chunk of progress. Then, in my first attempt to summon water out thin air, I’d managed to drench ourselves, my bedroll, and the set of borrowed playing cards Sage had been messing around with. The canopy pressed down on us like a heavy blanket, trapping the humid air until it felt like breathing a syrupy concoction of damp soil, mushrooms, and resinous bark. I’d piled my hair up on the crown of my head with a scrunchie, having long given up on not resembling some kind of cryptid.

Despite our setbacks, Sage and I had settled into a natural rhythm, and I quietly enjoyed the odd intimacy in our shared discomfort. How he’d wordlessly take my pack when I’d start flagging behind, relieving the strain on my shoulders when the straps started to dig into my skin. Or how I’d automatically pass him my chilled water bottle after every sip, knowing he’d probably forget to do it often enough on his own and wind up grousing about a headache later.

Even the silly moments, like when Sage found a boulder that really called to him for whatever reason and insisted that I stop to help him push it off a ledge. Together, we watched as it crashed and tumbled mercilessly down the sheer drop, through ferns and rotted logs until it exploded at the trunk of an enormous tree, rustling every single leaf, branch, and critter that had been peacefully minding it’s own business up until that moment. It was awesome and startling, compelling us to seize at each others arms and make a run for it, as if the affronted tree would uproot itself to chase after us.

Without these moments to landmark our progress, the woods blurred into one boundless smear of green. Every bend in the path presented a view indistinguishable from every other, every twist provoking déjà vu. For all we knew, Sage and I could have been trapped in a time loop, and at any moment we’d catch up to our own backsides disappearing around a suspiciously familiar tree.

“You know what’s funny?” I said, more to fill the silence than because I had anything hilarious to share. “We’ve been walking through these woods for over a week, and all things considered, we’ve had it pretty easy so far.”

So far, our biggest threats had been those brain-scrambling skelters and my own forays into independent magical study. No menacing highwaymen, no territorial monsters, not so much as a nod from a fellow traveler.

He took the moment to lean against the broken trunk of a freshly fallen tree while I caught up, the splintered heartwood blazing a raw pumpkin orange around him. “Not enough adventure for you?”

I stuck out my bottom lip. “I was promised bandits.”

He chuckled. “I’ve really let you down, haven’t I?”

I fell back against the tree trunk next to him, wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my wrist. Moisture traced lazy paths down my neck, making the light material of my shirt stick uncomfortably to my back. I couldn’t fathom how Sage was managing. When I suggested he do something about his hair, he had run away from me as if I’d pulled out a rolled up newspaper.

Just as I was thinking about offering a spare scrunchie, he stepped closer to me, close enough that I could smell the salt on his skin and see the way perspiration had darkened the his hair at the temples. Without warning, his fingers found the loose strands at the base of my neck, gathering them up with surprising gentleness.

“Hold still,” He said, low and firm. Then he leaned down like he was going to whisper something in my ear. Instead, he blew a stream of air across the exposed curve of my neck. An electric shiver raced down my spine that had nothing to do with temperature.

My eyes fluttered shut involuntarily as he moved lower, that gentle stream of air following the line where sweat had been trickling a moment before. Every nerve ending came alive under the attention, ultrasensitive to the contrast between the humid heat and his cool breath. I felt my pulse kick up, hammering against my throat where his mouth hovered just inches away.

The relief was undeniably delightful. The practical part of my brain valiantly tried to distract me. But the rest of me was acutely fixated on how helpless I’d become with just the barest caress on my neck, idly wondering what the worst thing that could happen if I were to turn my head just slightly—

You know the answer to that…

“Ah!” I slipped away with a breathless giggle as the sensation shifted from soothing to overwhelming.

“Better?” he asked innocently, though the mischief in his eyes suggested he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Tickles...” I accused, struggling against the smile spreading across my face. Even as I pressed my palm to my neck, I couldn’t ignore the way my skin tingled where his breath had touched, or how his eyes had gone dark and focused in a way that suggested he’d felt the shift in the air between us too.

With a coy little smirk, he tipped his head back to the road to urge us forward. “Shall we? All this heat’s got me thinking about our first order of business once we hit Porrima.”

“Mmn, right.” My voice was squeaky, which I tried to cover up with a sober nod. The space between us still felt charged, like if I reached out I could zap him with the static. With a calming breath, I willed my pulse to settle down by thinking about the smith that specialized in magical artifacts. What else could we learn about the Relics while we were there? “We should get your Relic fixed right away.”

“What? No, I meant making it to happy hour!”

Ah, that made more sense. I fell into step beside him. “So,” I said, reaching for something, anything really, to converse about. “Tell me more about Porrima. It’s my first time visiting.”

“Where to start?” Sage gazed off in the direction of the last decade or so, his expression caught somewhere between longing and apprehension. “Porrima...may look nice on the outside, but it’s rotten to the core. It’s the kind of place that’ll draw people into it's fold to swindle, chew up, and spit right back out.”

“I see…” I said slowly, my eyebrows hiking up in surprise. No love lost then. “You’re from Porrima, right?”

He gave it some thought, bobbing his head to the side. “I wasn’t born there, but I guess I’d call it home. Haven’t been back in a long time.”

“Why did you leave?”

He shrugged. “It’s a long story. Not one I’d like to revisit.”

I nodded, then changed the subject. “So where do the locals go for the best happy hour?”

That perked him up. “Well, there’s this gambling hall by the waterfront that does a crazy bog juice, but that whole area gets weird after midnight. The Runny Eye’s a solid pick, good snacks, good booze, and there’s an amateur bard night. The Feline hosts these legendary drinking contests, but be careful. There’s uh, pretty stiff competition.”

I sensed a challenge there. “Is that so? I guess I’ll have to see for myself.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

“Such refined tastes you have,” I grinned. “Bog juice and drinking contests. You really know how to show a girl a good time.”

He laughed, unabashed in the slightest. “It doesn’t stop there. There’s way more to Porrima than you can experience in just a few outings. But…” He drew the last word out, voice taking on a quieter, more speculative quality. “There are some…quieter spots too. If you know where to look.”

“Oh?” My curiosity was piqued. “Like what?”

“Well,” he said, searching the canopy. “There’s this old hideaway, up on this lookout point on the northeast side of the city. Dunno what it used to be, but last I checked it was still abandoned. You can climb to the top and see the whole harbor spread out below. Not a bad place to be around sunset.” He glanced at me sideways. “The kind of place you might take someone if you wanted to…appreciate the view without anyone interrupting.”

The implication hung in the air between us, and I felt that stupid grin start to take over my face. But I noticed something else in the way he talked, a note of wistfulness that made me wonder if there was more to this old hideaway.

“Sounds like you’ve done your share of, uh, view-appreciating,” I said, deciding right then to manually override my bashfulness, once and for all. I wasn’t naturally gifted at this whole flirtation thing like Sage was. The few instances where my feminine wiles made an appearance often occurred while under the influence of way too many shots, where I’d go on to exemplify all the mystery and allure that usually followed a UFO crash. But that was Earth-Zephyr. Here, under the heady combination of summer heat and Sage’s inexorable charm, Astraea-Zephyr was intrepid, eager, adventurous. I wanted to see what happened when I stopped letting Sage control the flow of our repartees.

To my surprise, he bit his lip in a tense little smile. “Maybe once or twice. Though I gotta say, having the right company can make all the difference. ”

“Mm-hmm.” I let my gaze drift thoughtfully from his face to the forest around us, then back again. “And how’s your current company measuring up so far?”

He exhaled a laugh. “I think my opinions on that are pretty obvious.”

“True. No one’s accusing you of subtlety.” I felt airy and full of sunshine.

“What about you?” He adjusted his pack on one shoulder. “You ever have a hideout? Somewhere you’d go to get away from it all?”

“Funny you say that,” I said, wondering if I listened hard enough I might hear the universe snickering. “I used to spend a lot of time in a place just like this.”

“You used to hang out in the middle of the woods with an Illephta?”

“Something like that.” Ayanna Anka was an Ilephta, and hands down the best playable character in Last Legacy, which often led treasure-seeking quests deep in the wilderness. It was wild to think that somewhere in these lands, Ayanna was probably tinkering on some fabulous new device. Hell, it might even be possible to meet her. I wondered if it’d be weird if I asked her to autograph my sketchbook.

The thought was thrilling for only a second, until it led me to think about what it’d be like if I put myself in Ayanna’s shoes. What would it be like for some random girl to come up to you and say, “Hey! We’ve never met before, and this is crazy, but back in the alternate dimension I came from, I used to role play as you and go dungeon crawling. Can I see your gun?”

I glanced at Sage with sudden trepidation, watching the easy way he moved through the forest, completely at home in a world that had once only been pixels and compelling writing to me until recently. He thought I was some hapless interdimensional traveler who’d stumbled into his world by accident. He had no idea that all of this had been my hideaway, an escape hatch from my own reality. The weight of all that I hadn’t told him suddenly felt crushing.

And more importantly, was whatever was building between us real if it was built on this massive omission? Okay, maybe I was getting ahead of myself, but even if all these stolen glances and casual flirtations turned out to be no more than an exciting summer fling, he deserved to know exactly who he was getting involved with. All of it. Even the parts that made me sound like a complete lunatic.

“So I just want to clarify something!” I blurted out before I lost my nerve.

His eyebrows quirked up, and he shortened his stride to match mine.

So I explained how Astraea existed to me as the setting of an elaborate story. How I spent hundreds of hours immersed in the world of Last Legacy, playing through adventures, getting to know the history, the people, the landscapes. Everything that had happened, the events from a few decades ago, were things I’d lived through as a player.

I watched his face carefully, bracing for confusion or that particular brand of existential horror that came with learning your reality was someone else’s fiction. For now he just frowned at the path a few paces ahead of his feet, having slowed down to a lover’s pace beside me. “Is that how you knew about those things that attacked us?”

“Yeah. My memory isn’t great, though. It’s been twelve years since it first came out.” I struggled to find the right words. Everything felt clunky, inadequate, or callous. “Sage, what I’m trying to get at is that if all this is too weird, if knowing that I used to treat this place like an elaborate escape from my problems makes you uncomfortable, then I totally understand if you wanted to keep your distance.”

He was quiet for a long moment, and I felt my stomach drop lower and lower with every second. Then he tilted his head, studying me with that acute intensity he sometimes got. “I guess you’re not so much of a fish out of water after all.”

“You’d think so. But it doesn’t feel that way.” I said uneasily. "At first I thought someone had drugged me. One minute I was talking to Celena about the merits of a chainmail bikini, and the next Felix was asking me if I thirsted for the souls of innocents. Nothing could have prepared me for any of this.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose. “So…this kind of deep stuff isn’t any of my business, so don’t answer if you don’t wanna.” He was still staring at the road in front of his feet, making it feel like he was avoiding me. “Does all this still feel like just a story to you?”

Even though I expected questions, I couldn’t fight a guilty flinch at this one. Or rather, at the question I suspected he was actually asking. Oh no, he thinks I’m a psychopath.

“That’s…exactly what I was afraid you’d think.” I knotted my fingers together. I didn’t actually know the precise moment when all of this had become irrefutable reality. “It was a lot to take in at first, but it’s definitely real. And for the record, I don’t see anyone as characters. You, Anisa, and Felix are my friends. Friends that kick my ass, lecture me, and steal my coinpurse apparently, but all the good ones do anyway. When I look at you, I can’t pretend for a second that any of this is just a story.”

I looked down at my hands, where my magic had both burned and healed me. “It was like…diving into the ocean. At first I would just visit, just skimming the surface of a world that I didn’t truly belong in. But then the Astrolabe happened, and suddenly I can breathe and I’m deeper than I’ve ever been before. It was terrifying. How everything is so much more vast than I ever thought and full of all these amazing, impossible things that I’ve only ever dreamed about. If anything, Astraea and everyone in it feels larger than life.” I scrunched up my nose. “Am I making any sense?”

He nodded slowly, a little furrow in his brow as he processed what I’d said, running his thumb along his jaw, right under the scar there. I held my breath, wringing my fingers out of their sockets. I was starting to feel like I’d recklessly swung at a ball, watching it hurtle through the air towards a window. What I wouldn’t give to take a peek inside his head.

“Well, shit.” He said, because Anisa and Felix hadn’t sent me out on this journey with a poet. Then that crooked smile started tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You had me worried for a second there. I thought you were gonna tell me something really bad, like you were already spoken for or something.”

I blinked at him, deflating. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts over here and that’s where your head goes first?”

“Okay, okay.” He grew solemn, gently touching my shoulder. “If I lived in the ocean, I’d want to be a leviathan.”

I shoved his hand off, unable to keep from laughing. “Dude.”

“Zephyr, you hopped between dimensions! That’s already pretty high up on the scale of weird things that should be impossible. And believe it or not, that’s not the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” He shrugged. “Besides, it doesn’t change anything. All that stuff happened before I was even born. You may as well have announced that you read a history book, you nerd.”

Relief flooded through me so fast it made me dizzy. “You’re really okay with it?”

“You kidding? Out of all the stories in all the worlds, you ended up in this one.” His grin turned playful as he bumped into me. “Out here with me.”

A warmth settled within me at how easily he’d taken it all. Just Sage being Sage, rolling with whatever curveball the universe threw at him. I could admire the simple pragmatism in that.

“I really lucked out then, didn’t I?” I found myself looking up through the canopy just as Sage had, marveling at the sun filtering through the dense foliage the way light shines behind stained glass. It seemed more vivid than anything I remembered from home. “Funny thing is, I don’t really miss home as much as I thought I would.”

The confession startled me. I hadn’t really acknowledged it to myself until this moment. Somewhere along the way the drive to return had gone dormant, overshadowed by a world-hunger that was seductive and a little frightening.

Memories rose like ghosts. Mom singing along to music in the car, Dad working in the garage on his endless projects, friends pulling me along to late-night diners. Had they blown up my phone when I stopped showing up? Were my parents searching for me right now? Filing a missing person report, calling hospitals, arguing over the regurgitated platitudes of hollow eyed cops who’d seen too many cases like mine?

And Zach…shame curdled in my stomach. Some fucked up part of me had wished he’d be shocked, devastated, and I imagined I’d get another chance to make him see me, want me again. Between leafing through grimoires and the last few nights spent sleeping under unfamiliar stars, without meaning to, I’d stopped wasting energy feeling sorry for myself, on nostalgia for something that no longer served me.

My old life felt flat and dull, just empty walls and dust prints. Days had gradually grayed out over time, subtle enough to never cause alarm. In the time since arriving here I’d undergone a metamorphosis, bright and euphoric like when you first fall in love.

The realization soured into guilt, twisting like a thing alive and resentful for being ignored. What did that make me? What kind of person was I to turn my back on my loved ones back home?

Sage had gone quiet beside me, and when I glanced over, he was watching me with an unreadable expression. Too late now to fan the words back into my mouth.

I hiked up my backpack, suddenly finding it hard to meet his eyes.

~*~

Another waystation platform materialized by the road. Sage and I practically tripped over each other in a race towards it, which ought to have indicated how low the bar had fallen. Shelters like this were few and far between, and this one—two walls shy of a proper hut and held together with a spackling of moss—proved to be a rare luxury that boasted a picnic table, sunken fire pit, and even an enchanted lightpost. It felt like proof that civilization hadn’t been swallowed up by forest.

Sage sprawled across the table, legs dangling over one end, eager to put distance between himself and the ground for once. At last, we could sit and eat like normal people instead of squatting on damp logs like grumpy woodland gargoyles. I busied myself with tidying the platform of woodsy debris and setting us up for the night.

The lightpost had several novelty direction signs nailed into it, too faded for my translation spell to kick in but I assumed they indicated major city hubs like Porrima, Rivath, and Elgafar. The magic clinging to it’s dangling lantern cage was so threadbare it hardly pulled any flying insects toward it. These kinds of lights were simple enough to conjure, and was a type which my magic felt particularly attuned to.

Ever one to learn from my failures, one thing that the fire mishap from the other night had taught me was that emotion played a significant factor in spellwork. That’s why training a sort of magical muscle memory was so important, so that along with building up stamina—sta-mana?—a mage could still pull off miracles while their brain was busy short-circuiting.

I rubbed my hands together, priming my magic by whispering nonsense to myself like coaxing a puppy down the stairs. It was an easy spell, but it still made me happy to pull off. A tiny spark flickered, warm and shy, until I was holding a single light mote the size of a firefly in my cupped palms. I squealed and bounced on my toes, letting it float up to join the others within the cage, brightening the whole constellation with it’s inclusion.

Pleased with myself, I went off in search of stuff to burn.

I returned with a collection of sticks, dumping them into the fire pit in the center of waystation platform. Sage was up and patting himself down with growing frustration. "Where in the hells did I put that flint?"

"Did you check your shirt pocket?" I asked, fishing out a baggie of spiced nuts from my pack and popped a handful into my mouth. He ignored me, inspecting the ground around his feet.

“Allow me,” I announced, cracking my knuckles as I knelt. “I’ve been practicing.”

I closed my eyes—but not before catching Sage taking an exaggerated step backwards—and reached inward. Instead of the intuitive feeling from before, I was met with a strange resistance. I tried to push the magic hotter, focusing on reinforcing the intent. It left a tingling sensation like pressing a nine volt battery on my tongue.

“Is something supposed to happen?”

“Shoosh.” I furrowed my brow, holding my hands out to shape the energy into what I wanted. A blinding fizzle of white light crackled from my hands, messy and magnesium hot. I flinched, jerking my hands away. The spell dropped onto the pile of sticks, sparks bouncing off ineffectually and leaving behind only a pattern of blue dots on my retinas.

We both just kind of stared until Sage began to slowly clap.

“Oh fuck off,” I glared, crossing my arms. “I’d like to see you do any better.”

“Me? No way. I could never follow that up.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

Focus on the task, I chided myself, extending my hands out again. Sage had asked once why I didn’t just use one of my magic doodles, as he put it. Chaining runes to spell out glyphs and arranging them into a ‘statement’ of magical intent, otherwise known as a sigil, was much easier for me to pull off when the time and space allowed it. But that would defeat the point of practicing the more direct forms of magic. I’d pulled it off once, I knew I could do it again. I just had to take the training wheels off and put in the work.

So this time I was more careful, measuring the trickle of power. I had the sneaking suspicion that my approach to elemental magic was a bit like bringing a paint roller to a calligraphy class, and wondered what funny look of horror Felix’s face would take when I caught him up on my progress. Taking it slow at first, I let the magic swell so that I could study the feel of it taking the shape that fire wanted, instead of me forcing it into what I thought it should be. I leaned into it, coaxing it with a steady, insistent rhythm. Slowly but surely, I felt like a fist was unclenching. Ignite…ignite…ignite…

Flames licked to life in the center of the stick pile. I laughed in excitement, watching it catch and spread through the kindling. Even Sage leaned forward, mouth falling open in surprise. “Well, fuck me sideways…”

“Yes!” I punched the air above me in triumph. “I’m so. Fucking. Magic!”

Sage cupped his hands and let out a whoop, like a rowdy fan in the stands. "There ya go! Knew you had it in you, you firebug!"

I rose to my feet like some débutante accepting an award, pressing my hand to my chest like I was overcome with emotion. “I just…I want to thank the Academy, my parents, the Astrolabe…”

“Aren’cha forgetting someone?” He pointed at himself.

I nodded solemnly. “…and my sexy-dangerous mentor for all his moral support!”

He threw his head back and laughed, showing off his pointy teeth before waving me off. “I’m just fuckin’ with ya, Zeph. That was all you.”

“I am pretty awesome, aren’t I?” I said with an imperious hair flip, then immediately cracked up. “I can’t even keep a straight face. But seriously, that felt amazing!”

His smile gentled. “Good. You’ve been beating yourself up over magic stuff since day one. I don’t know what it’s like on your side of the cosmos, but around here? It’s not every day people just drop outta thin air, grab a Relic, and start setting fires with their mind. Nice to see you finally giving yourself credit.”

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and it took me a couple seconds to squash the little fuckers down so I can think straight. Just take the fucking compliment. “Well. Thank you.” I plopped down on the table next to him. "So, what comes next after this?"

He scoffed. "After we get out of these gods damned woods? Fix my Relic, then round up with the others. Knowing Felix’s track record with rituals, we’ll be lucky he doesn’t blow up half the city in the process. Not like his spells ever backfire spectacularly." 

"Hey."

"C’mon, lighten up. I just meant...y'know, how he's like..." He waggled his fingers to pantomime casting a spell, as if that clarified things. "Whatever comes after that, I hope it happens in a tavern. Gotta keep the legend alive."

"I meant," I said with a small smile, "after figuring out this whole magical ritual fiasco. You’ll be off the hook for babysitting. What then?"

"Oh," The question seemed to take him aback. He shrugged. "Dunno. Might stick around in Porrima. Might not. Maybe I'll cross the Suhail. Be the first person to break into Rivath."

I propped my head on my knuckles. "Do you like it? Going place to place, feeling the pull of distant horizons?"

He thought about it for a moment, then shrugged again. “Just what I'm used to. Haven’t stuck around in one place for too long, not in a long time. ‘S just better that way. People start getting too chummy, start asking you to join this guild or that gang, or to go find someone’s drunk nephew that wandered off into the woods—which in my defense, wasn’t my fault that one time, ‘cause all I said was that those fey-folk are up to something with their little mushroom circles, I just didn’t know what. Word gets around, then it’s all downhill from there. Better to just stick to what I'm good at.”

"Better to dodge obligations, you mean?" I deadpanned. The joke was on him, because I loved a good side quest.

“‘Obligation’ is just a fancy word for a noose around your neck," he said, angling for a brooding gravitas that didn’t suit him at all. It felt more like one of those weird declarations best shared with drunk friends right before last call. Then he immediately undermined it by adding, “Or am I thinking of a leash? I’m kinda hard to kill, so it’s not all that different, if you think about it.”

“That’s a little dramatic,” I said, folding my arms. “It can’t be all that bad, can it? It’s useful have roots somewhere, people to fall back on.”

He ignored me. “Plus, if you’re not in with the right folks you never come by decent pay. It's always 'help us for the good of the village' or 'think of the children’. S’never 'here's a bag of gold and a hot meal'. I mean, I’m not unreasonable, but a guy's gotta eat."

I rolled my eyes. But I supposed I shouldn’t throw stones from inside a glass house. There was an appeal to the freedom of going wherever the wind took you. "What about the further down the road? Will you still bounty hunt or mercenary when you’re, I don’t know..." I scanned the platform, reaching for the surreal, like a brand new color. "Forty, or something?"

"When I'm..." He trailed off, not just alarmed but offended by the idea. "I don't know, Zeph. I don't plan that far ahead. I just…hit things with swords for money."

“Hmm,” I said, nodding in contemplation. "If you don't make plans, you can't be disappointed when they fall through."

He looked at me in surprise. "Yeah. See, you get it."

The fire crackled at our feet, filling the quiet that followed that odd conversational doorstop. I picked at a splinter sticking up out of the table.

“Say we figure out how to get you home,” Sage began loudly, rolling his head towards me. “Tomorrow. Or next week. What’s the next part in your story lookin’ like?”

The question loosened the disquiet from where it lurked under my ribs. I sniffed, then mirrored his shrug. “I’m not sure anymore. I don’t know if I’ll be bringing magic or the Astrolabe back with me. Even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to show anyone or talk about it without getting locked up in a padded cell, or scooped up by men-in-black. The one person I might’ve shared all of this with dumped me about a week before I arrived in Astraea.”

“This someone I should be worried about showing up to win you back?” Sage asked with mock severity, cracking his knuckles for effect.

I laughed, and it only sounded a little bit brittle, to my ears. “No. Trust me, Zach’s not following me anywhere.” My voice had gone flat when I said his name, feeling only a dull, distant sort of ache like pressing on a bruise. We’d met outside of some dingy punk venue next to a noisy offramp on the city outskirts, both of us more than a little drunk and pulled indulgently, effortlessly, helplessly like moths into each other’s orbit. It felt like we’d always live in that dreamy space between midnight and the cold sobering light of the future. Yet all it took was a few bewildering exchanges for the whole delusion to pop like a lightbulb.

Asshole, I thought as I pulled my leg up to my chest, resting my chin on my knee. Good riddance.

“For what it’s worth,” Sage said, leaning closer and giving my foot a friendly kick. “It’s his loss. Complete fucking idiot, if you ask me.”

I took a moment to study him, really taking him in while the firelight played with the shadows along his features. He got less fidgety when he was being earnest, I’d noticed. Like all that scattered focus narrowed down for this single, important declaration, without room for ulterior motive or performative sentiment. That, more than anything, inspired a surge of real affection towards him. He may not take life too seriously, and that made the sincere moments feel earned.

It struck me that I’d been writing Sage off as a reckless flight of fancy, probably bad for me in all the ways that felt good in the moment. Except he kept surprising me with these flashes of something more, making me wonder if I was protecting myself from the wrong thing entirely. I’d been telling myself I needed to figure my shit out before jumping into anything. I didn’t want to lose myself again, here where I could choose and redefine who I was. And I wanted to get it right. I wanted to get me right, before involving anyone else.

But maybe I didn't need to have all the answers first. Maybe I could be careful without building walls so high they blocked out everything good.

So what was I going to do about it?

I turned to face him fully, tucking my other leg under me. "That lookout spot you mentioned? The one overlooking the harbor?"

He tilted his head. "Yeah?"

"Show me." I held his gaze, letting a smile play at my lips. "When we get there. Just me, you, the sunset, and whatever comes naturally."

He blinked, processing this for a beat too long. “Oh. Oh!” Then the realization hit him like a bra to the eye. “You mean like…show you the lookout. Just the two of us. No interruptions.”

“You are so lucky you’re handsome.”

A slow smile spread across his face, showing off those sharp canines. "Sure. I could make some time to take you there."

"Good." I felt braver now, emboldened by the way he was looking at me. "I want to get to know you better. Away from all the existential magic chaos and people trying to kill us in alleyways."

He looked to his left, then to his right, making extra sure nothing and no one was around to overhear, then beckoned me closer with an inching finger. Amused, I leaned in to let him whisper mischief into my ear.

"Why wait?" His voice dropped in a way that gave me an excited thrill. "We could start getting to know each other better right now."

I giggled, pushing gently at his shoulder. "Because we both smell like we've been hiking through woods for over a week, and I have my standards." I met his eyes again, letting him see the heat there alongside the humor. "Good things come to those who can wait, Sage."

He seemed genuinely confused. “I don’t smell that bad, do I?” He lifted a lapel and took an experimental sniff, then made a face. “Oh. Okay, that’s…maybe you’re right. No wonder we haven’t come across anyone, we probably scared them off.”

“Hey!” I whacked his thigh, making his tail curl away. “Speak for yourself.”

He groaned, letting his head fall backwards before throwing a longing glance at the road. “Think we can cut our time in half if we run the rest of the way?”

“We're not running.”

“What if I carry you?”

“I will set your tail on fire if you try.”

~*~

It was the bugs that finally broke me.

"That's it."

I dropped my backpack off my shoulders and let it fall onto the path. I wiped my dusty hands over my pants, but the dirty feeling was all over. My spine cracked as I stretched, and my voice did too from the sheer ‘fuck this’ of it all. "I've fucking had it."

My boots were chewing my feet down to hamburger meat. I smelled like a gym bag left in a sauna, my muscles were sore, and I longed for the creature comforts of civilization.

Sage let out a wearied sigh. He’d stripped down to the waist long ago and let his jacket dangle from the side of his pack. I’d wolf-whistled and hooted like he was a one-man strip tease, which of course prompted him to flex his muscles for me. But now we were too exhausted for laughter, and he looked less than amused as he turned around to face me. "I'm not exactly having a great time of it either, Zeph. We're a day's trek away from Porrima. Lets just get there, okay? There will be beds. And food. And beer. And not as many bugs, probably."

I had also undergone a series of transformations over the course of our trek, a sort of bushcraft descent into sweltering squalor. At first I experienced a self-conscious phase of feeling mildly dirty. Then filthy. Then I’d been too far gone to care anymore. By now my original tank top hung loose and sweat-stained on me, and I had all but forgotten a world without grime ever existed. It came with a spiritual anguish that weighed me down with each passing moment.

I smacked a mosquito on my neck for the thousandth time before growling. "I am a city girl. I'm used to air conditioning and transit stations and…and takeout! I don't do long trekking through the wilderness like some David Attenborough narrated wildlife documentary! Something’s gotta give. I'm tired, I reek , these bugs are eating me alive and my feet keep turning into mush in my boots. If I don't get clean right the fuck now, I am going to immolate myself with my puny magic powers, no matter how long it takes, and mark my words, Sage Lesath, I will raze this entire bullshit forest to the ground with me! Where's this goddamn river?"

He stared at me with the most world weary look I’d ever seen on him, likely trying to make up his mind about how seriously to take me. I flexed my fingers menacingly.

Finally, he motioning vaguely through the trees on the left side of the road. "That way."

Renewed with single-minded clarity, I stomped through the underbrush, snapping twigs under my feet and slapping aside ferns. My whole body prickled with irritation. I could heal the bug bites, but I couldn’t magic away the psychosomatic itch they caused. That way…he said, like he hadn’t been holding out on me. The last waystation had a sketched out map of these foothills, and I knew that creek from the other day was runoff branching from a larger source that wasn’t as easily accessible by the main trade route we followed. But I was at a point where I’d crawl the distance if I had to.

"You forgot your bag! Hey, stay where I can see you!"

I ignored him, and yes, it was incredibly petty and I did feel sorry about it later. I heard him scooping up my backpack anyway. "So dramatic," he grumbled, far too loud for someone who wasn’t trying to be heard.

The trees finally thinned out enough to feel less hostile, allowing slivers of actual sunlight through instead of that eternal green gloom we’d been trudging through. Some birds were singing cheerfully overhead, which only felt like they were mocking my misery.

"And here we have the modern-day cafe barista,” I muttered under my breath. “In what is decidedly not her natural habitat. Unfortunately, baristas cannot photosynthesize, because unlike plants, they are known to survive solely on single origin, shade-grown cold brewed coffee—ouch—and a problematic tipping system. Tragically unsuited for long-distance hiking.”

But the closer I got to the sound of rushing water, the more my murderous rage dissolved into something resembling hope. The air itself was different here, cooler and cleaner and carrying the promise of relief. My pace quickened despite my burger feet, drawn forward like some parched pilgrim stumbling toward salvation.

The river’s ambient roar finally reached me in earnest, soon followed by the distinct mineral smell of a large flowing body of water. I nearly screamed with relief. I called out to Sage, wherever he was behind me. "Almost there!"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him pass under a spill of sunshine, making his hair flash bright as he weaved between spindly bushes tipped with neon yellow berries. "Careful around the water's edge. Anisa's gonna kill me if we show up with your head cracked open."

"Aww, you do care." Whatever. I wasn’t about to swan dive in, being a rather pathetic swimmer. But at this point he was gonna have to stop me from making love to the river.

Then the forest cracked open and the bluest sky I’d ever seen cascaded through, startlingly bright like some endless waterfall pouring from above. I was struck still while my eyes learned to adjust, inhaling a lush and primeval essence. A sparkling river wended through banks of smoothed stones, crowned by tall grass and long stemmed wildflowers. Dragonflies darted over the misty surface, the water both mellow and powerful.

For a moment I forgot about everything. The aches all over my body, the sticky film of sweat and road dust coating my skin, even the phantom itch of mosquito bites. I might have just been exhausted, but this place felt sacred. Like I’d stumbled into a secret transient place where nature and magic came together, making a kind of song from the eddying stream and soft wind and other notes beyond perception.

As breathtaking as it was, the noise I made was of distinctly savage joy as I clambered towards the tall grass, ripping off my boots and dumping them on the pebbly banks. As I yanked my top off I yelled, "Don't come over here, I'm taking my clothes off!"

I heard the thud of our packs hitting the ground. I glanced over, half-praying they hadn’t landed in a puddle. If my primer got water-damaged, I really might’ve burned it all to the ground, or at least cried about it. But then Sage tugged the tie from his braid, and the rest of the world went kind of fuzzy. All that silvery-white hair tumbled free, falling down to his elbows as he clawed through the waves.

Oh, come on...I’d seen him with his hair messily tied back for over a week now, but somehow not loose like this. It was unfairly pretty, not at all the image of some roguish sellsword about to wash off road grime by a river. And if his playful flexing from earlier had been distracting, this was downright devastating.

I must have stared longer than I’d thought, because he caught my eye and smirked. I was already shaking my head and stammering. “Sorry. I was just…the packs, I don’t want…”

“I don’t mind when you look, Zeph.” His voice was low and teasing, and I found myself frozen in place. His hand traced a line down the center of his chest, over the muscles and scars of his stomach and abdomen until he reached his waistband, fingers working the buckles of his belt with deliberate slowness. I couldn’t help but follow each movement, each metallic clink seeming to echo over the sounds of the river.

With no small amount of effort, I snapped my eyes away, heat flooding my already sun-blasted face. He laughed and mercifully didn't push further. I fumbled with my own clothes now, mentally cataloging the scars scattered across his body. Smooth, flat welts that spoke of untold fights he’d survived. I wondered idly where each one originated from, what kind of trouble he’d gotten himself into, and if he’d be willing to share those stories over drinks in the next tavern we visited, where I could trace them with more than just my eyes.

"Learning all kinds of things about myself." I muttered under my breath.

Once I was out of my clothes, I relished in the freedom from it. I wasn’t particularly body-shy, having spent enough time in girl’s lockers to quash that kind of modesty. But now I felt a different kind of awareness, of where Sage splashed in the river nearby, and that distraction made me hyper conscious of everything else around me.

The water was so deliciously cold and clear, spilling around my feet. I could even make out some small bottom-feeding fish floating above smooth, sandy pebbles. I sat down on a flattish rock, feeling the sun-soaked stone burn pleasantly under my thighs as I dunked my legs into the water. The cold sank through my flesh and gripped my soul a little bit, but the shock ebbed away eventually. The water soothed over my hot, chafed skin. A soft hum returned to me as I cupped handfuls of crystalline water to splash over my face.

I rinsed out my tank top, squeezing out the water and laying it on a sheaf of grass to dry out. I realized I’d left my soap in my backpack. I cursed to myself, dunking my whole body under the water to grab a handful of white sand. The scrub on my skin was pleasantly exfoliating, but it wouldn't work on my hair.

"Sage, can you toss me my soap? It’s in the right side pocket on my backpack."

"What’s the magic word?" Sage called back.

I was in too good a mood not to smile. "Please don’t make me come over there and light your tail on fire."

“That’s…definitely more than one word, but fine.”

A moment later, a tin box sailed over the rocks and flew long to the side. It landed way too far away, enough to nearly reach the edge of the trees. I tisked. "You have lousy aim."

“I’m better with knives.”

“Don’t look! I’m getting out!”

I climbed out of the water and scampered over the rocks to the tree line, flicking water droplets everywhere as I ouch-ouch-ouch-ed over the hard pebbles that bit at my feet. The tin had rolled under a low bush, and I had to crouch down to fish it out, cursing under my breath. Something stark white against all the rich brown and mossy green caught my eye. It was papery and flaking, but I caught the glossy black eyes.

A dead songbird.

My hand froze halfway to the soap tin. It laid on its back, wings and feet curled up skyward like a skeletal palm. Its tiny body was bleached of nearly all color, from beak to feathers to claws, like something from within had taken its time to wash the life out of it. The sight sent an immediate chill through me.

It was just like the blighted rabbit from earlier in our journey. I’d seen that same unnatural pallor, felt that same sense of deep unease, how my gut response had been to put distance between myself and whatever the hell that was.

I squinted through the trees, letting my eyes adjust to the shadows, so deep compared to the brightness surrounding the river. White tendrils snaked between the foliage like sickly veins, through bark and leaves with a deliberate invasiveness.

Well, it too was going to have to wait until I was finished cleaning up. I returned to the riverbed, glancing over my shoulder, discomfited to fully turn my back to it. Moving quickly, I spread a healing salve over my poor raw feet, washed and rinsed the lather out of my scalp, and redressed in my now nearly dry clothes. I felt so much more human again, and the break from endless trekking had returned some pep in my step.

"Hey Sage! When you're decent, come over here and take a look at this weird thing I found."

"I mean, I’ll put some clothes back on, if that’s what you mean."

I scooped up my boots and returned to where I had found the dead bird. I cupped my hands around my eyes to better see through the trees. Given the lack of any of those vines breaching the edge of the clearing, it seemed like whatever the source of this blight was coming from deeper within. This poor bird might have been trying to escape, searching for a glimpse of the sky, of freedom.

The crunch of boots over pebbles alerted me of Sage's presence. I pointed to the creeping vines. "You recognize that?"

His eyes were slivered in the bright light, frowning through strands of wet hair that he hadn’t bothered tieing back up yet. His skin was still damp, drops of water gliding down his chest. Wow, not the time. I ripped my eyes away, but caught how his gaze went placid as he focused though the trees. "Great."

I knew it. My magic stirred restlessly under my skin, recognizing the threat even while the rest of me was still catching up. This was the same stuff that Talan had talked about. A sinister stain left over from the Lord of Shadow’s reign. Whatever dark rot he and his followers rooted into the world, it didn’t have the good sense to die with him.

I started forward when I felt Sage drop a hand on my shoulder. "Where do you think you're going?"

I frowned at him, pointed dumbly into the trees. "I wanna find out where it’s coming from."

"Yeah, well what I want is to get out of these woods and drink away these last couple days at the nearest inn, which is in the opposite direction. Everything else is shit out of luck for now."

“Isn’t it our responsibility to take care of shit like this?” I planted my fists into my hips. “Talan said this stuff comes from leftover strongholds. That it takes fire to burn it out.”

“Yeah, and those Moonstone wizards sent their people out to destroy them ages ago.” His hand found my elbow, steadying me as I struggled into my boots. “What are the odds there’s one out here?”

“Well, then how else do you explain this?” I gestured to the remains of the songbird on the ground. He took a wary step away from it, as if reminded it was there. “What if we just take a look? Just a peek?”

“An hour ago you couldn’t get out of this forest fast enough! We’re finally at the last leg of this damned voyage. How about we not make any more detours, eh?” With that, he dropped my backpack at my feet and marched back through the way we came. “We report it to the garrison in Porrima. They’ll send out a proper cleansing team.”

I felt a stab of disappointment in him. This was exactly the kind of test that separated real knights from wannabes in shiny armor. A real knight sure as hell wouldn’t walk away from blight because it was inconvenient. I made a promise to defend against the the evils of shadow magic. What was I made of to turn away from that now?

What would a Starsworn mage do?

"Sage, look!” I gasped, pointing deeper into the woods. “A pack of naked forest nymphs are doing keg stands on a pile of treasure!"

Sage spun around, eyes bright with sudden interest. “No way.”

…So lucky he’s handsome. I hauled my backpack up around my shoulders and ran straight through the trees.

Looking back on that moment, I wish I hadn't been so damn curious.

Notes:

I am so ready to get these crazy kids out of these damn woods. Thanks for reading and putting up with all this extra stuff. <3