Pain beyond measure. Those were Mustafá’s final moments until, suddenly, everything became black and red. Every bone, every fiber of her body, broken in an instant, and then… nothing. Out of instinct she closed her eyes, not really wanting to perceive any of this if she could avoid it; when it was all over, she finally forced herself to open them once more.

Darkness surrounded her, a pitch black tapestry that she could somehow perceive without eyes. In a way, it was a lot like the experience of moving through the Second Layer, but she was aware that this was far, far above that. Her very soul, or what was left of it, was loose and shimmering, a weak and pale blue light in the middle of the dark night of undeath. Because no matter how she looked at it, even if her body had expired, she was not truly dead. She was just as tied to Jericho as every other person alive right then.

Focusing on herself, the mage forced the shimmering light of her soul to acquire as human a form as possible, giving this shape arms, legs and a vaguely human silhouette. Once she managed to mold what was left of her essence into a manageable state, she simply sat down.

She didn’t always die in such a violent fashion, most of the time it was a stray gunshot in a bad spot that got her, or maybe strangulation, but crushing? That was a new and painful experience. Right now it may feel like a mere memory, but she knew that as soon as she was back, it would hurt like Hells. So in that sense, this state of absolute nothingness was preferable.

But only in that sense.

No matter how powerful a mind, a complete void like this was enough to overwhelm anyone. Even if Mustafá herself was quite adept at keeping calm, collected and aloof, this lack of stimulation of any kind was starting to get her a few seconds after awakening there. Or was it days? Hours? Months? There was no real way of knowing, not in there.

In her impatience, she stood right back up, starting to wander from side to side. She didn’t feel air against her, or a floor under there, so the only indication that she was moving at all came from the kicking of her legs and the exaggerated swinging of her arms. Okay, she needed to think. She needed to keep her mind active, or else she would succumb to madness way before she could return to life.

But just how long would it be until she returned to life?

As stated before, this wasn’t her first rodeo in the void, but it was very rare for her entire body to be destroyed like that. She had no doubts this curse of hers would force her right back to Jericho eventually, but when!? When!? The longer it took, the more chances there were that her soul simply dissipated into the void before she could return anywhere!

Not to even mention Tav.

Would her apprentice be okay? She had some confidence in Tav’s ability to somehow keep alive, but that confidence was fading about as fast as her inner peace.

If her soul extinguished completely out here, the only thing returning to her body would be her embers, and she would not be able to function or much less protect anyone like that! Who knows how long it would take her to gather the energy to recover from that state! By then, Tav would be dead and remembered…

Panic was starting to surge, she couldn’t even question how irrational she was being in this state. Her movements turned erratic, desperate, if she could breathe she would be hyperventilating.

But then, she would hear a voice approaching. A known voice, familiar enough to bring some relief to the trembling mage.

“Somehow I knew I’d find you here today.”

She turned right around, looking through the darkness until she could see a figure approaching her. While Mustafá was a mere wisp in the vague form of a woman, this person was a bright, burning blue flame, a fully drawn young man dressed in a long trench coat. He had come seemingly out of nowhere, walking until standing right in front of the old mage with a smile.

“Are you alright, Miss Mustafá?” The man inquired, bowing his head softly.

“No, Trevor. I am not alright.” The alchemist snapped back, before taking a deep breath. Having someone to talk to, to pretend in front of, was more than enough to return some calm to her mind. “I am dead, and I don’t have time to be.”

“It must have been serious if you are this intense about it.” Trevor took the sharp response in stride, letting out a little chuckle. “But you know we can’t really make this any faster, right? It’s a matter of waiting for your body to properly regenerate the damage! How did it happen this time, though?”

Mustafá remained silent for a moment. She didn’t really feel shame for her death but it was a little embarrassing..

“... A dragon got me.” She simply said.

“A dragon? They are back?” The burning man rubbed under his chin. “Now that’s strange news. I thought we got the last one back in the day…”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“A person was killed, probably by one of them.” Mustafá sighed and sat down once again. “My new apprentice and I went down—”

“You have an Apprentice again!? Awww that’s so nice to hear, congratulations!” The man seemed ecstatic.

“Focus.” The woman chided, before clearing her throat. “We went down one of the dragon seals in Wohl. The one in Saüle.”

“That’s one of the old ones, right?” Trevor nodded slowly. “How was it?”

“Broken enough for the dragon to escape.” The alchemist sighed. “We don’t know for how long it has been like that, but the Dragon was aggressively beckoning for us and I may have overreacted.”

“So you attacked the Dragon…” Suddenly the man opened his eyes wider. “Oh Saints, it didn’t eat you, did it!?”

“Nothing like that. Just crushed me.” Finally she admitted it.

“Oh good… I have no idea how your immortality would work if you were consumed.” Trevor sighed. “... And no, that is not an invitation for you to investigate that!”

Mustafá crossed her arms and looked away, sighing. As if she would lose time with such experiments when there’s a murder case going on. Uncomfortably, she was reminded of the words from that pesky Giovanni: ‘Just because you don’t die, it doesn’t mean you don’t suffer’. The old mage growled low and shook her head quickly, trying to push out those ideas. She would never give that bastard the satisfaction of admitting he was right!

Trevor seemed to guess what was going through the woman’s mind, for his smile grew wider to the point where he couldn’t stifle a few giggles.

“I see you two are still warring. I am so sorry.” The man shook his head slowly. “You know, it’s a bit ironic. You are two trapped in life and looking for ways to be free of it but, here you are, desperately trying to get back to your penitence.”

“I am busy and still have plenty of things to do, Trevor. I can’t simply die right now. I don’t have the time.” The alchemist grumbled.

“And Giovanni doesn’t?” Trevor grinned a little more. “I know you’re still trying to free him.”

“That idiot needs to think about himself for a change. I am doing him a favor.” She crossed her arms again.

The man knew better than to try his luck with this woman, so he left it at that.

“I see you smiling. You better not be getting any strange ideas.” Mustafá point a finger at the man. “I am doing this because I —”

As soon as the woman’s connection between her body and soul was repaired, the alchemist disappeared from the void. Trevor laughed loudly this time, shaking his head slowly.

“I guess some things never change. Good. It makes me nostalgic…”

With a nod, the man’s presence dissipated as well. After all, he had his own vigil to keep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“—owe him one.”

Mustafá blinked a few times, her eyes suddenly adjusting. She was standing once again in the middle of the Amber Cave, with luminous orange stalactites surrounding her, her finger sternly pointing at someone who was no longer there. Of course she couldn’t enjoy the realization of her new life for more than a second, before her body was overwhelmed with a pain so intense it was paralyzing.

She was brought to her knees by this pain, letting out a prolonged, shaky groan, as her every nerve screamed and tensed up from the waves of unforgiving punishment she could feel wriggling under her skin, like red hot pokers tracing circles on her very flesh. Her body trembled and throbbed, her fingernails (which she was painfully aware of right now) sank into her arms as she clung to herself by instinct, as if she could somehow cover and protect herself from this suffering.

She felt like puking for a moment, completely defeated by the agony… but then, she remembered that she wasn’t here alone. She didn’t have the luxury of time to languish and writhe in pain. Tav was depending on her…

A part of her immediately questioned the notion though. Since when did she care about Tav this much? She did start this little ‘course’ of hers by trying to kill her student! What difference would it make if the girl was slain here? She could always try to find the book again, wherever it resurfaced, and find another Sleeper to read it…

… Why did she feel so bad thinking like that?

That’s how she always thought. People, after all, were disposable and lived short lives. She had used and abused people for a long while, never even blinking or thinking ill of it. Why now? Why her?

Was she getting attached?

As the pain started to subside, fear started to take its place. No. Not this. Not again, never again.

She was tempted to wait and simply go retrieve the book and the body later, just so these strange conflicting feelings may disappear.

But the feelings were just… overwhelming. She couldn’t simply do it. She would go insane if she allowed Tav to die in good conscience. Maybe it was something on the curry? Had the Bastard Mage thrown a love spell or something!?

No…

The woman sighed and looked down. She couldn’t simply put this on someone else. She had done it herself: she had formed a bond with someone, and now… now she had to deal with the consequences. She was lucky it was a small bond, or else she would be simply petrified by fear now, right?

Right?

“I don’t have time for this.”

Taking deep breaths, Mustafá went right back up and looked at her clothes, still soaked in blood. She walked over to pick up her turban, fix it on her head, and snap her fingers to quickly gather the blood in the form of a floating bubble. Now that will be useful. In fact, she began gathering the still boiling blood of the dragon on another bubble, letting them both slowly float around her like little Moons as she walked over to the seal, focusing on that little crack on its side.

Mustafá couldn’t simply bypass the seal while it was still functional, even if it had a crack on it. She’d had to be clever like that dragon, and simply shrink herself down. Of course, she knew this wasn’t an easy feat of magic…she did have two bubbles of blood to work with! Dragon blood, which only made it better.

Using a single bubble she drew a circle on the floor, adding some of her personal runes and then… she braced, for this would also hurt like all Hells. With a deep breath she snaps her fingers, and the blood on the floor disappears in a haze of light, as Mustafa’s body was suddenly (and painfully) reduced to the size of an ant. The second bubble sloshed down as it floated above the little mage, while she jogged towards the crack and begged the stone slab wasn’t too thick.

She had to hold her breath for this spell, and she wasn’t very athletic to begin with.

“She better be alive or this whole ordeal will just be silly…”