Here’s a meta-narrative:

A sentient being often appreciated people around him and was appreciated by people around him for one reason. That reason was that the sentient being treasured his own abilities to work things out and could reliably perform activities involving these abilities, whereby the manner in which he treasured and performed his abilities – his personal hierarchy structure - came close to the hierarchy he contributed to within society,

People had to believe the system worked, and see proof that it worked. Similarly, it was a fad to make fun of priests of religious systems, irrespective of perceptual belief being distinct from perception. Perceptual belief was a requirement for both science and superstition. Today’s priests preached positiveness, as oracles who could feed the poor. That was beyond the struggles of misfits, who could be their own enemies.

A man, striving to remain honest and dedicated to his ideals, once said, though I paraphrase ‘humans are like atoms. The closer atoms are, the more restricted freedom is. The more separate atoms are, the freer they are.’

Exploitation was human nature. The closer people were, the more there was a need for rules. In society, one agreed with the other, to not steal from or kill the other person, that they may live peacefully with one another. In a microcosm, like a family, similar rules were negotiated. They were house rules. House rules were apparently a thing, other than state laws.

To be alive was not a right. It was a state rule. To be alive meant to be entitled to live. To be entitled meant to be expectant. Expectation came from entitlement and gratitude. The object of expectation was motivation. The object of non-expectation was detachment, if not a Nazi camp or a Gulag Island.

Consumerism and the Baldwin effect, of meaning and ideological experiences, helped society.

I should wipe my nose.

***

In his room, Elliot looked at his materialized pole of light. It was a straight line, with two rings of light, one at its top and the other at its bottom “This is my partner in crime, huh?”

“More like your acolyte, wouldn’t you say?” Benjamin said.

“Sounds the same, but I agree,” Elliot said. He looked outside the window. Down there, at the courtyard, some soldiers were training. They held wooden swords with both hands and performed a sequence of actions. The soldiers started with a downward cut, to the front. They followed with a cut to the left, then to the right. This was followed by some more moves. After the downward cut, it always seemed to continue with the same cross-shaped pattern of cutting to the left, then the right. The soldiers were in sync. From a few repetitions, Elliot got that there were six steps involved. Elliot looked away.

Twice. a soldier made a cut to the right, after the initial forward cut. The instructor approached him and raised his right hand midway up the air. The soldier stopped his swings. “Mathias, repeat after me. Front, left, right.” Mathias did as told. The others continued their practice.

They were not alone. One of the soldiers squinted at the body gestures of the people on the other side of the courtyard. The courtyard was 30m by 40m, for an area of 1200m2. These people had gray and white tunics on. There was a chart beside them. “I think these guys are war scholars or something. At any rate, they look like they are doing ninjutsu,” said the soldier. He followed the hand gestures of some people.

“You are wrong, Tyler. They are just doing brainstorming sessions.”

“Is that a Hikkigaya Hachiman reference?” replied Tyler. He kept observing the group having the brainstorming session.

“What kind of reference?” asked a third guy with a serious tone.

“If you ask me, I would not know. But it sounds dumb. They’ve practically invented a new language of metaphors,” interjected a fourth soldier.

“You are the dumb one. You just dislike the beautiful narcissists,” said the second soldier.

“Oh, I see. All the better for me. I am a warrior,” said the fourth soldier. Some other soldiers chuckled. At this point, the four of them had stopped training. The instructor took a look at them, then looked at the remaining soldiers. There were seven of these. He ordered the four chatty fellows to finish their conversation in five minutes and told the rest to move to the north-east corner of the courtyard. ‘You’ve let your curiosity get the better of you. Stay here for five minutes. You can use the time to at least finish what you have to say,’ was what he told them.

The fourth soldier covered his face with his hands. “What’s wrong, Jeffrey?” asked Tyler.

“I have to practice my swings. See you guys,” Jeffrey replied. He took a step towards the main group.

The third soldier stopped Jeffrey with a hand on the latter’s shoulder. “Stay here, dude. You’ll be reprimanded if you don’t stay for five minutes.”

“You can practice your swings here. I’m fine with that,” Tyler said. “Oh, yeah, Jonah, the reference is about a magically animated show I watched back on Earth. I have nothing much to describe about the main character, Hikkigaya Hachiman, other than that he drinks coffee,” Tyler said. “During event organization meetings, he uses word salad to do brainstorming sessions. Well, word salads are are unnecessary words in a sentence, or hyperbolic emphases to sound more clever. On the flip side, there are debates that are interesting to hear.“

“You and your otherworldly knowledge,” Jeffrey commented. The soldiers took turns commenting, then joined the instructor. Shortly, the sky grew dark. The sun fell to the castle’s shadows.

It was evening.

On the west side of the courtyard were the residential areas of the palace. The building segments had warm, dark brown paint etched on their walls. Under the burning glow of the sunset, they emulated the lure of mahogany furniture. Inside one open-ended chamber of the residential areas, Elliot took his dinner. He visited the washroom. Inside, Elliot was surprised to see modern technology in the form of magic. Elliot opened the door to his room. He saw Demeter, Benjamin, Linda, Owen, and Dalton there.

“Please get out, you bastards. Give the introvert his space.”

“No,” came the reply. It was a chorus of four. Linda was the only person who did not join in.

“Come on, don’t be so entitled, Elliot. We’ll get out soon,” Dalton said. “Sit over here if you want to.” Dalton tapped a spot on the bed beside him. Elliot looked at Demeter, then looked to see if anyone had caught him. It was all happy faces. So he sat down next to Dalton.

Linda took over. “As I said, the Thesis nation is the only functional nation left. I don’t know about the territories of the dark kings or whatever happened after the old gods fell to the corruption. To make a guess, after the old gods’ suffering ended, and that their souls’ essences were transmigrated, things could only get worse from there. Beyond the boundaries of the Thesis nation, some trees are petrified, some trees grow with black barks and some trees are bleached till they are the color of white bones.”

“Everything we have seen is overrun by monsters and demons. Ambrosia is the only goddess who protects us. She values our freedom. However, other than gods, you may encounter nymphs, dryads or nature’s sacred beasts. We rarely know what goes on with these kinds of divine beings.”

“I see,” Dalton said. “So Hugh and Ulysses are Ambrosia’s sacred beasts.”

“Indeed. And they are her guards.”

“So, transmigrations happened and the nations left behind were likely ravaged. Linda, how do the powers of a hero work?” Demeter asked.

“It starts with the power’s manifestation. Summoned people with talent and special classes usually have a power appear immediately to them. On the flip side, it can take as much as a month for it to appear on common heroes. On some heroes, it never appears. Speaking in terms of potential, a hero is most prized for his worthiness in being revealed more than one or two abilities. It means he can work in interdisciplinary fields.

Those who have difficulty evoking their powers or those who are in an unstable state may undergo periods of training. The Thesis nation’s government generously invests in such trainings. In your world’s terms, you may consider these periods of training in terms of bachelor degrees. Such training can make up for lack of aptitude, or lack of immediate execution of a high status. Some people in Bluene, that is, a city of Thesis, claim to have made an enterprise out of the skills of heroes. But their activities are only likely to lead to fractures in our society. Let’s leave that aside.”

“Sir Rendom would know more about that. He is a veteran paladin. Anyhow, I would like you to keep one principle in mind. It is that whatever your power is, its starting point is never far from since the time you died. ”

“Sounds rough,” Dalton said.

“Does that principle mean to say that our dying instance is our fertilizing instance? Well, I’m sure the only two things that happened are that our souls were teleported first and then our bodies were reconstructed to these,” Benjamin mused.

“That is correct,” Linda said, dryly.

“Got it,” Benjamin said.

“Please go on, Linda,” Dalton said.

“Yeah,” Linda said. “By the principle I mentioned, it should be understood that we don’t reset everything. If you suck here, that’s the price for having lived a rotten life. Of course, there are exceptions – the good ones, who have a sincere faith which wants to help people, and some assholes who think they are protagonists.” Linda looked at Elliot and Dalton. “Let me make it clear that we do not hate exceptions as long as they behave. Whatever be the case, we aim to be fair, even if you lack faith and ambition.”

“Sounds like a flawless strategy to me,” Dalton said, resting his head on his left fist.

“Precisely. To add on, some people of this world have their own strengths. They are rare, but it goes to show that all heroes are not created equal. Just like games have F-rank to S-rank, the same applies to heroes.”

“We don’t have hope for Aidan then. He sounds like a loser,” Owen said with a grin.

“Give it a rest, Owen. We still don’t see his claws.” Demeter said.

“He has them already, doesn’t he? He wants to drag everyone down while he lies. That guy’s face looks older than his age, if you ask me,” Owen said.

“I see your point,” Demeter said.

“He’s acting himself out. If I think he’s good, he’s welcome to join my team.”

“Sounds useless to me though,” Owen laughed.

“By the way, how many heroes are usually summoned per month?” Benjamin asked.

“We only summon one to two heroes per year. This time was an exception,” Linda replied.

“Okay. I think this explains a lot,” Benjamin said.

“That’s true.” Linda held her head with her right hand, seeming to have a headache. “Last year, the only other god beside Ambrosia, Alder, the god of ice and wind, died. His winds were instrumental to our defense lines. These have now disappeared.” Linda looked up. Elliot felt pity welling in his heart. “Ambrosia has maintained the boundaries of the Thesis nation for thirty years since her birth. She healed all those who sought refuge within this sanctuary. She stood firm against the demons.” Her eyes lowered. “That is what they say. That is what I’ve seen. Her predecessor held on for two hundred years. With this, the talk is over.”

“Thank you, Linda,” Dalton said. “If not for the circumstances, I would have asked if I could give you a hug.”

“Please don’t even speak of trying it,” Linda said.

“I’ll bear as much in mind,” Dalton said. “See you until then, Linda. Stay strong.” Linda kept quiet. “Well, been nice chatting tonight. Rest well, guys.” Dalton made his exit.

“Don’t mind Dalton, Linda. Thank you for taking the time to explain all this to us. I really appreciate you for that,” Benjamin said.

“You’ve said it, Benjamin,” Demeter said.

The room emptied itself.

***

The next day

31.08.10022

The hallway had matted brown floors. Its walls resounded with the voice of two people. The one on the defensive had red hair while the other person had black hair.

“You are not even half as special as you think you are. You are lazy. Join the maintenance crew already.”

“I have not got my hero powers yet. I have not even said anything about joining you.”

“Don’t test my patience.”

“Who gives a damn? You are a power-hungry bastard. You want to control people while thinking you are extremely important. Rest on your laurels, dude. I’m not interested in learning anything from you.”

“Why you…”

Dalton passed by, talking with a guard. The guard looked at Dalton with worry. “Please ignore these people,” the guard said.

“Who is the maintenance crew guy?” Dalton asked.

“His name is Nathan Hubris. The other guy is hero Basil Foster.”

“Sounds like Aidan number 2 to me.” The guard did not say anything. Dalton and the guard passed by the two, who were engaged in a debate.

Behind Dalton and the guard, another person joined the conversation. After listening to Hubris, that person said, “I see. It’s just an artist. Prepare some canvases. Basil shall have his fill of materials. If he’s a genuine bard, he’ll seek adventurous people. Let’s talk after he has works and corrected works to back his objectives.” Laughter could be heard.

“Please don’t spoil him, grandmaster!”

“Hubris, this is wisdom too. In most circumstances, there are two arts people wrestle with. The first art is about the philosophy of phenomena-based inspiration, in other words, that which drives one’s purpose,” he clenched his fist. The grandmaster then crossed his arms. “The second art is qualia. Basil can express his inspiration to people. He can do that as much as he wants, and resolve his artistic thesis. Eventually, his status and lack of active shared philosophy will come back to face him, alongside whatever desire he has dreamed of.”

“That sounds cruel and constraining,” Hubris commented. Basil looked at the grandmaster with consternation. He had the expression of ‘I don’t know what to say’.

“Excuse me,” Dalton said, catching his right fist with his left hand. “Actually, I have a proposal for Basil Foster,” Dalton told the grandmaster. He turned to look at the red-haired hero. “Basil, right? Join my team. It will be less stressful this way.”

The grandmaster observed see Dalton. “Interesting,” he said.

“Thank you for not taking offense at my interruption,” Dalton said.

***

I looked at the wall in the moonlight. It seemed to be plastered with silver. I looked at the bars in front of my cell. They became illuminated. Eyes that were the color of dusky, smoldering gold looked at me. It was no beast. It was no one unusual.

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Ambrosia looked at me from outside. Her hair was dull in the darkness. “You are a dangerous existence, Aidan. You are favored by Caecus. That is a bad thing. It means your affinity to become a demon lord is almost sealed in stone. You will not die. However, my eternal blessings have been removed from you.”

“I see,” I said. I redirected my gaze to the wall. “I will live.” Ambrosia disappeared. Or maybe she just walked away. The following day, I had a REM dream. I knew it was a dream of that nature, because I could remember it vividly when I woke up.

In the dream, a man chased me. He called upon his wolf to hunt me. I escaped well. The man ended up wounding himself. The wolf, loyal to the man, licked his blood. The man told it to stop. The wolf did not listen. The wolf was transfixed. The man took a piece of wood and was about to hit the wolf’s head with it. The wood landed on my hand. The man said it was all my fault. The wolf went away.

Some accusations followed. I left the man alone.

***

03.09.10022 – 04.09.10022

Since that dream, two days had passed. My body felt dull. It did not want to move. I felt sleepy. The only way I knew two days had passed was thanks to the light. I did not eat – I could not. I could not blame Ambrosia for not sending food over, for I did have it in front of me. Caecus – did that mean depression? I did not understand.

I pondered. Ownership, improvement and work done were commitment. Confidence was what you gained upon a long-term play-out of commitment in any field. I did not see homogeneity as peer pressure. Homogeneity was a nose-brush, in higher or lower company.

I preferred words, to body language. Words were direct

A fun ratio would be that of ‘clamor’ to ‘product’. Clamoring was about attention rackets. It made you money. Products were the object of your clamor.

I felt better on the third day. A guard opened the door. He said Ambrosia wanted to see me.

I wondered if things would get worse. I followed the hallway. The walls curved. The floor was a matted brown. It did not sparkle. It did not arouse my curiosity. I thought my disinterest was out of place. It was not out of character. Shortly, I found myself in what the guard called the goddess’s backroom. The goddess’s backroom was a dark place. It was cold. I saw two chairs, and a table. Both furniture were made of wood.

“Eternal passion of purpose is the only commodity of this world. These are your words, Aidan.” Did I mumble her words in my sleep? Ambrosia appeared beside one chair. Her hair was auburn, not white. I remembered when these were white, with hues of pink and blonde. Ambrosia appeared to float. “How do you feel, today?”

“Like shit,” I said.

“I see.” Ambrosia’s feet touched the floor. “Let me state your purpose for you. You will be a rat subject for us. You will be useful bait for the monsters and demons. Your final purpose is to die.”

“So I was right to feel like shit,” I said. I looked at the canvases fixed on the walls. They were tasteful.

“That’s great. Do you want my ridicule or my sympathy,” Ambrosia ventured.

“I’m fine. It’s not like I can take you seriously, for something your familiars or whatever did, as evidence that I get to be in a prison for my whole life. Sorry, you’ll waste my time. What’s the alternative?”

“Will I?” Ambrosia said, vexed.

“Indeed,” I said.

The floor met my face. No, was it my face which met the floor? “I wanted to say this before. Please don’t take my sympathy for granted.”

“Eternal passion of purpose is the only commodity of this world, huh?” I said, my cheek on the floor. I lifted myself. “Then, survival is a commodity. That would be modern slavery. Slavery of the working class has caused the French revolution and the Russian revolution. These are part of Earth’s culture.” I drew a forward curve with my right hand. “I have said what’s on my mind. What would you tell me in exchange?”

“I’ll protect my people,” Ambrosia replied. “We have thirty-three heroes, excluding you.”

“That’s one person missing,” I said.

“He’s dead,” Ambrosia said.

“Have you learned a bit?” I asked.

“I did. That’s why you are alive,” Ambrosia said. “Let’s continue the conversation about you. I’m sure you have had ample time to think. I can’t peek into your mind so I cannot tell if that’s an overstatement or understatement. You have an affinity to Caecus. You will understand when I show a copy of your divine status to you.”

“What is a divine status?”

“A divine status is a script engraved on your back upon summoning. The divine status helps me determine your strength. Through the script, I provide you with the ability to wield elemental energy. It might involve less mockery compared to a Caecus-enabled individual, but as long as you believe in me, our contract shall be maintained.”

“What about your eternal blessings?”

“You don’t have the benefits of that, just as I told you.”

“I don’t know what these are. So I’m not sure if I should care.”

“That’s fine. Let’s resume. Having an affinity with Caecus means having an affinity to becoming a demon lord. In other words, you are a demon lord’s apprentice. For now, you are useful for attracting monsters. But someone might abduct you, only increasing the workload for me. That probability is high, since some of the creatures who may seek you have a human form. They might as well have infiltrated my nation.”

“I thought I was grateful for being revived by you. When I asked to be a free person, an unheard-of affinity ruined my parade. The affinity’s name is Caecus. Why is that so?” I asked. My voice came off more frosted than I wanted.

“My familiar only reacted to you.”

“Well. I hate the way you talked about the purpose planned out for me. There’s no choice if you can’t reject contracts,” I said.

“I heard you well. I’m curious. Do you think you are in a disposition to talk so casually to me?”

“No, I think you are a goddess with responsibilities,” I said.

“Yeah, you can say that,” Ambrosia said. “That said, I have a proposal to you, Aidan.” I looked at Ambrosia’s face. “If you don’t become a demon lord atter five years, I’ll help you return to earth.” A stag, which was five feet tall, appeared. Its antlers looked majestic. At the same time, these looked like ordinary wood. The stag barked in a shrill, monotonous manner. My body trembled with fear.

Ambrosia waited. “Do you accept to undertake the contract?”

“Give me some time to be alone,” I said. “I’ll tell you later.”

Ambrosia raised her eyebrow. She looked embarrassed. “That’s not professional. Are you a kid?”

“I just want to observe the city and beyond,” I said.

Ambrosia thought about it. Her left thumb went under her chin. “I won’t console you. Demons are at the forests outside the city. I don’t want you to go there.”

“I heard you,” I said.

“Promise me,” came the answer.

“No. Consider your warning a futile endeavor.” It could be for plot convenience for all I cared.

Ambrosia said nothing. I looked at her.

My interaction with her was unlike many of my feuds with my father. I might as well have gifted a doll to him. And he would think the doll was him. Communication was deficient. Boundaries sucked. Privacy was not his theme, unless it came to postmail.

My memories of him were a habit for me. He resented me, from time to time, like I left him alone. The thing was that he raised me and provided supplies. I was not entitled to these supplies. For I had time, I was able to read light novels and learn about the internet. I watched Kurzgesagt’s videos and What I’ve Learned videos. My father was impatient; he did not take kindly to a stopwatch. I learned about subculture, like manga and anime. I was a consumer who got the idea of writing and wrote to get his reviews off his chest. Neither me, nor my father, was an individual to one another.

An obvious outcome. I did not express much desires. I had little purpose I gave or even sought to receive. I sought meaning and mystery in books, and anime. Quite the irony that stories gave you meaning to perceive the world with, but you could end up with a lack of relevance if you did not take care of your brain. I was not even co-dependent with employers. That was bad. Of course, with a job, came responsibilities.

On the personal side, I was myself. In guise of purpose, I was given expectations. I had aspirations too. A summer of arbitrary idleness after exams. The usual confiscations of computer devices here and there. The usual adolescent struggles such confiscations entailed, regarding the internet and the play circuit described by Dr. Jaak Panksepp, if not purely for gaming. It was an ambiguous memory.

‘I will learn to stand on my feet for the rest of my life. Somewhat,’ I thought.

I got outside the castle. I might as well complete this journey and attain a modicum of timeline as reward. Outside the castle, there was a garden. It was bigger than the courtyard I spied at a corner of the hallway. The garden was highlighted by iron-made sculptures. The outside of the place was dreary. There were gray splashes here and there. It gave off a vintage feel.

At the foot of the castle was the rest of Schema, the capital city of the Thesis nation. The people there were displeased to see me. They seemed to be able to read my general status. I could see it too – a title displayed to me when I pressed a translucent button to my left.

[Demon lord apprentice]

That was a weird one.

“Don’t get close to him! You’ll be cursed,” a woman said to her son. Within the surroundings, I saw soldiers running on the opposite side of the road. The taverns were lively. They were filled with people. It was broad daylight, for Christ’s sake.

“To be an ugly go-getter,” I mused. I looked at a wall on my right, and looked back at the running soldiers. What was the name again? Henrik Ibsen. He said that everything that was alive must move. Only the dead remained unchanged. That made sense. The dead could only decay, unless it was a functional memory storage.

Someone picked a fight with me. He kicked me. I replied in kind. I was reticent at first. Then two more men joined in. I felt lethargic. It might have been the effect of the Caecus. I kicked the first man and jammed a punch in his face. However, the second one got a hit at my head. I lost consciousness.

***

A dream

I found myself among trees with black barks and branches. The leaves were brown in color. I walked on the ground. It was humid. I noticed that I was in a forest. There were fruits the color of blood in the distance. Bats swarmed in to feed on them.

“Hello friend,” said a person beside me. I looked to my left. It was a person who was not me. “Let me tell you something. Once, a woman offered herself to me. She was a rough individual. She told me to spell out if I did not like what I saw. I liked what I saw, so I did not waste my time.”

I kept quiet. A person that looked like me appeared to my right. “I came upon a group of people. They had seen a woman who had been raped and murdered. They were out to seek revenge. I felt sorry for her, so I joined them.”

***

04.09.10022 (Continued)

I woke up outside the city. The forest was in front of me.

The forest had appealing greenery. I heard a couple getting it on in one of the houses. I grimaced, upon feeling intrusive. The grimace was like a grin. I lifted myself. I issued a groan, upon finding my body to be battered and bruised in more ways than one. I walked a few dozen meters away from the house. There were autumn trees with yellow leaves, here and about. But, in general, it was a lush greenery. It looked like the Suoxi Valley of China. (Visit Our China, n.d.) ‘Goddamn looks like Genshin Impact’s Huaguang Stone Forest in Liyue,’ I thought.

“Learned your lesson yet?” Ambrosia said, appearing. I thought I could see someone beckoning me from the distant abbot of trees.

“No. I feel angry that the villagers threw me out,” I said. I kept quiet. “I think I’ll have a look outside.”

“Are you serious, Aidan?”

I held her gaze. “You said I am favored by Caecus. Will the demons attack me?”

Ambrosia bit her lips. “They won’t unless I have a look at your divine status and provide my energy to you.”

“Do you mind if I have a look, then?” I said.

“Well…” Ambrosia reproached herself for feeling pity. ‘Let him fall,’ came a voice. Ambrosia sent a string of vines in my direction. I stepped out of the way.

“You don’t mean to capture me, do you?” I frowned.

“Someone else is here,” Ambrosia said. Her eyes flared. The vines thrashed the ground. Soil and broken stone made up a brown cloud. I saw a shadow move about. But there was no one I could see to whom it belonged.

“That’s some impressive moves, Ambrosia” I said.

“Save your compliments and don’t get in the way,” Ambrosia replied.

The shadow on the ground zigzagged, then stopped. Ambrosia’s vines broke the ground, but not the shadow. “I am a mere transmission,” it said in a witchy, ominous voice. “The forest is my eyes. Ambrosia, you cannot destroy me. But maybe we can fight someday.”

“What’s your business here?” I asked, approaching the shadow.

The shadow showed white jagged strands depicting teeth. It laughed. “My business is nothing that concerns you at the moment. But at the same time, it is everything that concerns you. Search for us in the black forest, if you still can.” The shadow disappeared.

“I see. So the shadow’s business is to tell me to go to the black forest,” I said, reflective.

“That sounds dumb,” Ambrosia said. She walked up to within a meter of me. “Aidan, listen. You do not have to go to the black forest,” she said.

I kept quiet for some seconds. “You are not forbidding me from going there?” I asked.

“The black forest is part of our conquest route for next year. While I’m not forbidding you, you are replaceable,” Ambrosia replied.

“Cool. So, do you have an idea what exactly that shadow thing was? I believe it said it was a transmission.”

“It’s a transmission, sure,” Ambrosia said, crossing her arms. “However, I understand that the black forest is home to homunculi. He must be one of them. Humonculi are hazards for all any society.”

“Uh, I sound like a spoilsport when you’ve said it like that. However, I’m off to exploration, as I said.”

“That’s inconvenient for me.” Ambrosia tied up her hair. “if you insist on going, you may fight me. It will be by bare hands. Getting out of here will otherwise be impossible.”

I sighed. “I will wait for one hour. Then we fight.”

“This does not work for me. Let’s get to combat right away,” Ambrosia said.

I looked at Ambrosia. I tried to place her somewhere in my memory. It would have helped to have a feeling of alienation here. “I understand.” I stood straight. Ambrosia walked to me. I did likewise. I threw a punch. Ambrosia’s right hand appeared under my punch. Her hand touched my chest. She swept my feet off the ground. “Are you serious?” I said, hitting the ground. The impact pushed the air out of my lungs. ‘Maybe she has physically enhanced herself,’ I thought.

Ambrosia wrapped my hand around my back. I twisted over, not caring if I broke my hand. That shook her. I broke free. Ambrosia grabbed my hands. I lowered my center of gravity and swung her to the left. I kicked her. I gave a second kick, but she caught it. I inched my knee up and pushed her. Ambrosia held on, letting her left hand free. I grabbed her. I swept her off her feet.

The easiest pressure point was her neck. There was no honor in that. I grabbed her wrists and placated them to one side. I held on. The target was her tendons.

“I give up,” came the answer.

“Hold off then,” I said. It was rash. I did not think this counted as a win. It felt amateurish. I felt amateurish.

“You are certainly a criminal apprentice, if not a demon lord,” Ambrosia said.

“Who cares? It’s common knowledge, if you look well.” I said. Ambrosia lifted herself and waited. I stood up and walked to the forest.

The path was straightforward. A humanoid appeared in front of me. It looked like a mannequin. I felt goosebumps. It was quirky. “Let’s go. He shall speak to you.”

‘I’m getting ahead of myself,’ I thought.

***

In the distance, I could see the foot of a mountain.

It had been half an hour. To my left, there was a cliff. I saw a woman walk up the cliff. Her hair flowed freely with the wind. I observed her. With preemptive judgment, I ran in her direction. The grass on the cliff was awash with the wind, under a gray sky. I sprinted through.

The ground against my feet was like an inclined football pitch. The grass prayed to the wind and lay tousled upon my movement. If I were on a football pitch, the cliff summit would be my goalpost. I circumvented the woman and blocked the summit. The woman started to run. I discerned her brown eyes. “Don’t mind if I stay here,” I said, loudly. There was no reply.

As she came closer, I felt colder. I felt I stood in front of an open refrigerator. The woman did not stop. I lowered my back and backed off from the cliff’s edge. The woman was in front of me. She wore a dress of the color of yellow and white. One wrong move and she might go tumbling some meters down the cliff. The woman passed through me.

I turned around and moved up to the cliff’s edge. I saw the woman fall and hit the ground beneath. Blood flowed from the woman’s body. Her knees were out of shape. Perhaps she had second thoughts upon jumping. The woman’s profile lulled with a blue glow. The body disappeared. I found this occurrence startling.

My breath was fast. I walked down the cliff, back to safety. After ten seconds, I saw a woman walking towards me. She wore a dress the color of yellow and white. It was the same person. Her profile looked more vibrant now. But I noticed, where I had failed to before, that her appearance was slightly blurred. This time, the woman stopped, looking at me. “What do you want?” she said.

I touched her shoulder. The woman looked at me. I noticed she had a porcelain face. These were not human features. My hand felt chilly. I looked at it. It was subtle, but my hand was lit by some kind of infra-blue light. “I want nothing,” I said. I released the woman’s shoulder.

The woman looked at her shoulder. The area of her dress, which I had touched, was now gray. The woman hugged herself. Her porcelain face cracked to reveal some etches of red. The clouds parted to cover us in the rays of sunlight. The sun had the woman ablaze. The white in her dress turned gray. The fire subsided, with no perceivable damage. “I need a real dress,” the woman said. She walked away from the cliff’s edge, towards a plateau. Further away, there was an autumn forest. The leaves were orange, red, and yellow.

I climbed down. I walked ahead of the cliff. I saw a cave entrance. “You are no sorcerer,” a creature said, from the distance. “That was needless dramaturgy.” The creature guarded the cave’s entrance. He looked like a goblin. and his nose was pointy, just as his ears were pointy. They were green in color.

“Hello. You are a goblin, ain’t you,” I said, raising a hand.

“Yeah,” the goblin said.

I approached him. When I came close enough, the goblin said, its yellow teeth flashing, “Phenomena are special. Dirt for thee, gold for me. I greet you now.” He cleared his throat. “Welcome, contender. I am a bard of the demons. But, I will tell you no stories. You look boring. You don’t have the will to take inspiration from my stories. Welcome again, contender. Venture forth and you may hear an evil story.”

“This place is different from the Thesis nation.” ‘I wonder if I should join the other heroes instead.’

I entered the cave. It was somber, with fluorescent stalagmites lighting the way. The walls were cool. The obscurity seemed to devour. I expected to see some lunatic archetype, easy to caricature, easy to dodge. I came to a circular hall. Torches were lit about the circle at the center. Five out of eleven torches were not lit yet. I saw no one. Empty eye sockets peered inches from me in the darkness. I startled. I saw an apparition at the other side of the room.

Bleak, luminous light glowed atop its skull. They were seated on the points of a crown. The crown appeared to be inked black. “You seek my faith, mortal?”

“What is the philosophy of your faith?” I asked. I clenched my fist. I was looking at a shadow. It did not even look alive. The crown hovered towards the back of the circle and seated itself on something; I discerned a corpse in the darkness. The remaining five torches of the circle lit. The creature took off its crown. It stood. Its eyes glowed a fluorescent blue. I wondered if it was sulfur in his eyes. I was not sure.