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[>>Now replaying: Log 1.16 - Believing, Sight, Unseen]

Date: Error

Location: Zephyro’s Domain?

//The ocular nerve sits at the back of the eye, it waits, hungry for light, consumes it, and then lies to us, telling us a truth that is no truth at all, just so that we might continue hunting, eating, breathing, living, seeing.//

[>>DATA CORRUPTED]

E1 %Saint Samantha.%

E2 %The Torchbearer.%

E3 %Who?%

Before the echo of the explosions that shattered the tower could diminish, Zephyro’s blade cut through the air above my head. The blade sang with power, like choral music blasted from a passing car, but I didn’t feel anything but a gentle breeze.

Heat washed over us as the shockwave sent even the Vizier stumbling, and pressed the rest of us to our backs. Luckily the tower had been atomized so thoroughly that what little debris that showered us was mere splinters and chips of stone, instead of the car-sized bricks the tower had been made of. Most curious, however, were the fist-sized cyan cubes that had been tossed into the air far above the battlefield. Glowing their bright blue, they almost looked like a second set of stars, until they began their weightless descent.

Reality shimmered like a mirage, and I beheld the same vista of nature and technology intermingling I had seen earlier, but from a different point of view. I stood inside a walled compound, and to my side, there was a large metal gate that looked completely overgrown with vines. I couldn’t see how far the wall went because it was hidden by trees, but I did see densely packed factories, conveyor belts, network arrays, and many more pieces of Tech I didn’t even know the purpose of. Chris would, for sure because they had built the damn things before I…

The last detail I caught was that numerous satellite dishes and antennae were scattered all over the forest floor and…

Reality frizzed like TV static, and as the world resumed, I had this strange feeling of deja vu again, as if I had just remembered something, but then immediately forgot.

“Al-la’nah!” Zephyro spat, then coughed. He looked like he had gone through hell. His robes were torn and bloody, his armor broken in several places. The fight had etched deep lines into his face, making him look several years older, and hesitation and a desperate fear haunted his eyes. Still, he didn’t hesitate, except for a brief moment to meet my gaze as if in apology, before his form began to shine so brightly I had to look away.

Behind me, many of the Militia did the same. Those who stared at the Vizier did so with that resigned sorrow that words fail to convey. It was the look of waving goodbye to your spouse as they sail to war, watching ambulance doors shut, or ordering a coffin for your child. The glow brightened, and for a second, everything turned a silvery white as the light burned away any shadow that could provide details.

When the glare finally abated, I turned to find the Vizier looking as fresh as he had been up on the plateau, armor pristine, sword gleaming in nonexistent moonlight. His left hand was outstretched, projecting a magnificent dome above our heads. It rippled like transparent mercury, illuminating the ruined market like hundreds of streetlamps at once, offering safety.

Beyond, it was pandemonium.

The Guardtowers along the wall burst into flames like a row of firecrackers. One after the other, they burst apart, bathing the surrounding districts in fire, debris, and more of the weightless blue cubes. As soon as the flames began jumping from one building to the next, I knew there was no quenching this fire, either.

The blue stars began touching the shield but passed through harmlessly. Citizens shuffled around numbly, avoiding the cyan objects as they descended and touched the ground with a soft ringing sound. The cubes had the exact same color as Essence, but the militia didn’t react to them nearly as fearfully. They tried to the few dozen objects that landed within the shield a wide berth, but it was a reverent distance, not a fearful one. When a couple of people touched one by accident, the cyan cubes just bounced off their skin like squared balloons.

Not a danger, then.

Despite the short jolt of relief, and the flames buffeting the shield with searing heat, I felt cold. Why would the Shackled nuke the towers? It didn’t make any sense. The only thing I could think of was that I had done something wrong, and that mistake led to the Dream Maze collapsing, but like so many other things, it didn’t fit the pattern. These traps always collapsed around me, because they used my own mind to sustain them. As soon as things stopped making sense, it was usually over in a flash as my body tried to wake up, but the magic wouldn’t let me, and lulled me into another dream.

Here, the destruction was everywhere, but I couldn’t help but feel as if I wasn’t the center of it at all. I could barely make out more towers collapsing in the distance to both sides of the gate, but their destruction wasn’t symmetrical anymore. It had become more sporadic, like a child got tired of knocking over cans with a slingshot, and was only making half-hearted attempts at finishing off the job.

The last thing that didn’t fit was the reaction of the people. They looked almost despondent, as though a couple of destroyed towers spelled their end. But why? They had seen their siblings die and witnessed overwhelming power, and yet they hadn’t hesitated to throw themselves into battle again and again.

The more I thought about it, the colder I felt. I kept telling myself this was all just a dream, but each time I did, the louder an insistent voice became, asking what if? What if it wasn’t? What if Zephyro told the truth? What if I really had killed—

“What is going on?” I asked. If this really was the end of this Dream, one more question couldn’t hurt.

“We have been blinded, Sultana,” Zephyro said through gritted teeth. His arm trembled under the strain of keeping up the shield.

“The Guard towers were sensor arrays in the Real,” Kasha added, more helpfully. Her voice was flat, all sense of bright-eyed joy extinguished. “We were relying on them to detect intruders into the Domain.”

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

“Wait, if this is all digital anyway, why do you need to detect people in the real world?” I said, brow furrowed. It was as close as I could go without plainly stating it didn’t make any sense.

“Sultana, does the cheesemaker move his cupboards every day, searching for mice? Does the Baker open every bag of flour in search of maggots?” When I shook my head, he continued. “Indeed, they check once a month if they are watchful, but if they disassembled their entire shop every day, they would never have the energy to work their craft. But once they find their cheese being eaten, or see a moth fluttering through their shop, they will turn over every nail to find the source of the infestation. It is the same for me, but my Domain is far, far larger than any shop. I need to be able to know where the Vermin hide in order to pinpoint their location and render them visible in the Domain.”

My throat felt dry.

“So what now?” I asked, despite knowing the answers.

“Now, I will keep this shield going as long as I can, while you head to the carriage. You must claim your crown, Sultana. There is no alternative anymore. The city is but lost, and if you do not reach the palace in time, our people are doomed.”

I stared past the white glow of the shield, watched the city as it began to burn, and felt numb.

“This isn’t fair,” Kasha said, next to me. She’d turned away from me, her face hidden behind her hands.

“No, it isn’t,” said one of the other remaining scouts, gently placing a hand on her shivering shoulder. “Just think about it as one last adventure, Forty.”

“It’s not, though,” she said, voice dangerously close to blubbering. “Adventures end when you tell each other stories about the wonders you discovered. This, though… I don’t think there will be any stories at the end of this, will there?”

The other scout said nothing.

Then he looked at me, as did everyone else.

I wanted to shrink under their gaze, hide from the responsibility they wanted to saddle me with. Instead, I forced myself to stand straighter, swept my eyes over the crowd. Eventually, they rested on the mangled Torch, somehow still in my hands. The silver light surrounding us reflected in the gold of the broken scepter, shining a bit like fire.

> The interior of a castle. The red room Olre loves so much. He’s drinking wine, asked me to join him. Liquid courage, I know. He needs to tell me something but is afraid. Through the window, autumn. Torches crackle on the walls, drive away the cold silence.

> “You are still getting controlled by your instincts, but you need to do better, Sam. You’re a leader now. Our leader. And you’re not nearly good enough.”

I somehow managed not to wince as the memory sliced through my mind like wind through a haunted ruin. I was trying to be better. Then, and now.

“I understand you can’t explain what exactly I will do in the palace, but just tell me this: Will it help? Help everyone here, I mean.” Sure, this was just a dream, but it felt so real. Real enough for my choices to haunt me forever, like an episode of my past, I could never forget, as much as I wanted to.

“Help?” Zephyro began, giving me that look of appreciative empathy that battered me with more responsibilities than I could ever carry. “Sultana, if you claim the throne, given enough time, you will save this entire Domain.”

I took a long breath and made a choice that would see me sacrifice hundreds of lives.

“I’ll get it done,” I promised.

“The Vizier should go, too,” Kasha said before the Vizier could respond. The silence that her words leave behind holds its breath, shocked.

“No, Alkashafa,” Zephyro said. “You have a better chance with me.”

“That’s bullshit, honored Vizier,” she responded, a specter of her earlier cheek. “A better chance at what? Dying? This is the end, and we all know it. All your staying here would do is prolong the inevitable.”

“I will not abandon you,” Zephyro said, and his words pulled the rawest, tautest strings in my soul. “As well, my staying here will give the Sultana more time to escape.”

The scout shook her head, and there it was again; that smirk. “You are as blind as the rest of us, and you can’t keep this shield up forever. Not unless—ah ma ‘alayh. Once the shield is gone, they can literally just walk right past you, and do what they want.”

Zephyro was quiet at that.

“What do these Shackled want?” I asked. The shield trembled a little. We didn’t have much longer.

“Essence, Sultana,” Zephyro said. Sweat was dripping down his face, into his previously immaculate beard.

“They want pretty much nothing, actually. They just do what their handlers tell them to do,” Alkashafa-14 said. “I really wanted to find one with a Domain, someday. To see what’s going on underneath that red shell of theirs.”

Zephyro stared at her, aghast, but she just shrugged. “It’s something to explore, and I love exploring, honored Vizier. Can’t blame me for who I am.” She turned back to me before Zephyro could respond, and just talked over his sputtering. “Besides doing what they are told, the Shackled really only do two other things. They turn Ferals into Shackled—but I think they only do that if they are allowed to, because it happens relatively rarely—and they love to absorb Essence, or Logic, as they call it.”

“So they are after this?” I asked and bent to pick up one of the cubes. Zephyro jerked as if to stop me, but he probably couldn’t without dropping the shield, because he stopped mid-motion. I gritted my teeth and grabbed the prism. It was warm to the touch, and for a second, I could have sworn I heard the faint sound of a bell, somewhere deep in my mind. When I searched my soul, however, there still was no trace of Wish to be found.

I frowned and just for the sake of experimentation, I focused on a nearby market stall, clutching the warm cube tighter. I exhaled softly, willing my Wish to advance the vendor’s stand, but nothing happened. Not my Wish, then. Just a red herring. I decided against cracking it open because it would probably just mutate my hand. It was nothing to worry about. I was still in a Dream, and once I woke up, everything would be alright again.

I pretended to study the cube a while longer, covering up my regret, and my relief, mingling around my heart like icy-hot.

Then, as if nothing had happened, I said, “So they want this?”

Zephyro looked as if he wanted to say something, but Kasha nodded before he could.

“Then,” I said, raising my voice to make it carry over the crowd. “I need you to flee. Run as far as possible, and carry as many of these things as you can.”

“And drop them if the shackled catch up!” Kasha interjected. “Smart!”

I nodded with as much confidence as I could muster. There was no telling if the enemy would be so easily distracted. “In the meantime, the Vizier and I will head to the palace.”

I turned to Zephyro and let the ghost of a smile play over my lips. “Because he keeps telling me that once we arrive there, things will be alright.”

Zephyro held my gaze for a small eternity, stoic as ever. But then, with his arm trembling like a skyscraper in an earthquake, he smiled. “Indeed, Sultana. May Allah bless you for your Wisdom.”

“Least I can do,” I said, quiet now. My smile slipped a little.

“You heard the Sultana’s orders,” Zephyro said because he caught on as quickly as usual. “Buy us time, place your trust in her, and you shall be rewarded in this world, and the next!”

Kasha leaned forward a little, her eyes wide. “Just to make sure I got this right, Sultana. You don’t want us to stay here and hold them off?”

I shook my head.

“For the same reason as the Vizier, right? Because of the broken sensors?”

I nodded.

As Kasha’s expression shifted like clouds breaking, allowing the glory of the sun to shine through again, her smile returned. “Got it.” She immediately reached down and grabbed a cube. It bathed her beaming features blue as she held it close.

She turned to me one last time, her smile widening a fraction, “I always wanted to hold one of these, but I’m not a builder.” She winked, and then she was off, heading for the edge of the dome that protected us for a head start.

In the meantime, the barrier had become more than a little patchy.

“You are most merciful, Sultana,” Zephyro said. He was panting with effort.

I shook my head. “No, it just makes the most sense. They will distract the Shackled, while we head inside and do whatever you think is so important.”

“Your reign is the key to our Survival, Sultana,” he said but didn’t elaborate further. Not that I could blame him. He was holding his left arm with his right, and it looked as though his fingertips had either suffered frostbite or turned into the stuff he powered the shield with.

“And yet, you could have gathered them all here and fought first, Sultana. It would have bought us even more time.”

“We have more than enough,” I said. “Seems they’re all on foot, right? We have a carriage. There is no way they will catch up to us.”

> Novus Apex in flames. Olre holds my head up, forces me to watch the bonfires.

> “Look at it! Look at what your denial cost you, Torchbearer! …What it cost me. I curse you, Samantha. I curse you with all the Might of my Magic, and if there is a god left in this world, she will make sure you will never find peace again.”