Chapter 001 - Consequences:

Anton’s finger lazily traced the path of the water droplet, growing and absorbing the dust and grime that had accumulated on the bus window. Only when it disappeared, striking the bottom and joining the ribbon of dirty water, did he sigh and fall further back into his uncomfortable seat.

The journey back to his home was annoying long. Not that the distance was large, but the city traffic always ground to a halt at this time of night. Throw in the light rain and it was probably faster to walk.

“What am I supposed to do for rent?” Anton asked aloud. “I don’t have anything in the bank...”

Despite the impending financial disaster he almost smiled as he remembered why he had been fired. Or quit, the result was essentially the same. The red and thoroughly embarrassed face of his boss brought a smile to his face, as did the knowledge that he would no longer have to wear his cheap and uncomfortable suit and tie, though such elation was marred by the simple fact that he was no longer employed.

“Excuse me.” A sweet elderly voice asked from the center aisle. “Is this seat taken?”

Anton was more than a little surprised to see an elderly woman standing next to his seat. He knew it was not that surprising, public transport was much safer for the elderly, but it was rare to see them at this hour.

“Sure. I mean, no it isn’t.” Anton managed a single chuckle as he pulled closer to the window. “It’s free.”

As he looked around the bus he was surprised to see most of the seats were filled, at least with a single person.

How long have I been out of it?

“Thank you, dear.” The elderly woman shuffled onto the seat. She rested a large and seemingly heavy purse on her lap. “These old bones, you see. I can’t stand up for long.”

She rubbed her knees with heavily arthritic hands.

“I...I can see that.” Anton’s eyes narrowed as he regretted his words. “Sorry. I’m a bit out of it.”

“Something bad happened at work?”

The elderly woman unfastened large metal pop clips on her swollen purse and began to rummage through. Somehow Anton generated an unfavorable image of a curious rat rummaging through garbage. He turned his attention back to the window. The bus had only managed a few meters but the scenery had changed. Outside a group of prostitutes plied their trade on anyone willing to pay the modest sum. A passing car’s lights shone on the window, the dust and grime reflected just enough light so Anton could see his face.

Anton was relatively plain and normal: average height and build, short cut dark blonde hair with pale green eyes. The only thing of note was his missing right wedding ring finger, lost during his childhood when he wrestled a dog trying to attack a neighbor, at least that’s what he always told himself.

The car passed and his reflection faded. Anton sighed, drawing a deeper meaning from the passage of his reflection than was present.

“Here we are.” The elderly woman produced a small orange candy, covered in sugar dust. “Have one of these. It’ll help clear your head. Oh, my name’s Janet by the way.”

“I...” One glance was enough to tell Anton that she was not about to let it go. “Alright.”

Never accept candy from strangers. At my age?

The moment Anton bit into the candy the taste and smell of ginger overwhelmed his senses. He coughed, a foolish mistake, and breathed in the vapor and dust. His lungs spasmed in protest to the foreign material.

“You’re not supposed to chew it.” Janet said, the tiniest hint of a smile crept through her wrinkled face as Anton struggled to suppress a coughing fit.

Almost a minute passed before Anton dared to open his mouth. “I...I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t think anyone would just bite into it.”

“I thought it was a solid candy.” Anton smiled. He thumped his chest. “But, thanks. It has cleared my head, though not in the way you expected.”

The bus pulled off the road and opened its doors. The hinges and wheels squeaked and rattled, like everything in this city it was old and neglected.

“So what’s troubling you?” Janet asked as she looked at the people entering. Clearly she was not impressed but Anton was still massaging his chest, the ginger still burned in his lungs.

“I yelled at my boss.” Anton coughed. “Called her a lying bitch, since she stole money and equipment from the company. And I had the video evidence, which I showed everyone. Turns out she’s shagging the boss. Behind his wife. So that makes me...”

Janet was not listening. Her eyes lay squarely on the latest people to have entered the bus. She muttered something as she refastened her purse.

The latest people to enter the bus were unsavory people, to put it bluntly. The seven men wore matching long dull grey hoodies, some baseball caps underneath despite the late hour, and shifted strangely along the central isle. Their beady eyes looked into the passenger’s laps, trying to be subtle but failing miserably. Though Anton could not read lips he could just make out them talking about money after pointing at a woman’s jewelry.

“Shit.” Anton muttered. He slunk down into the chair. “I know them.”

“Who?” Janet asked without turning her head. “Who are they?”

Anton groaned as he saw the second last person. “They’re a stupid gang, back from when I was a kid. Green Vipers...Something really stupid. But I was sure they were in prison.”

“So...Why are you hiding like that?”

Anton looked down. “Because I helped put them there.”

Janet tensed and pulled her bulky purse close to her chest.

“Alright fuck-faces!” The second last gang member drew a small pistol and raised it into the air. “I think you all know what’s happening.”

The gang member behind him pointed a gun at the bus driver. The door hissed closed and immediately the bus began to move. A car behind blew its horn as they rejoined the traffic.

“All your fucking valuables into the sack.” He used his gun to point at one of the other gang members, who had a large backpack rather than a sack. The other gang members drew their own guns, small things but still incredibly deadly. “No one needs to get hurt. It’s only money, after all.”

“What do we do?” Janet whispered.

“What do you mean? Give them whatever they want.”

“But...” Janet’s lower lip trembled. “I have my silver locket with me. It’s all I have left of my husband.”

“Well definitely don’t tell them-”

“It’s in my purse.”

Anton groaned as the gang members drew closer. While he had no reason to help Janet it still left a bitter taste in his mouth. However, he did not want to die over a cheap piece of silvery steel either.

“Come on.” The gang member at the front yelled. He was clearly enjoying himself. “Everything. That means your phones...What the fuck is this?”

A middle aged man raised his hands as the gang member pulled out his phone, an incredibly old flip-phone.

“The fuck are we supposed to do with this?!”

“You said-”

The middle aged man received a strike to the nose with the butt of the pistol. Blood erupted from his shattered nose and the man fell back into his chair.

“Don’t fuck with me!” The gang member pointed the gun at him with a trembling hand. “Don’t you fuck with me.”

“Okay.” The man raised both hands as blood poured down his face. “But that’s the only phone I have.”

The gang member scowled, spat at him and moved on.

Slowly the gang members moved along the isle, retrieving everything that might be of value. Anton kept his face forward, trying his best not to draw attention. The gang member at the front, still holding the driver hostage, began to grow more agitated, his feet shuffled back and forth, as he continued to taunt the bus driver. As the gang members near them Anton saw the bus driver clutch his chest and begin to lean forward.

“Old bitch.” The fourth gang member growled at Janet. His voice cracked slightly, not that anyone was about to say a word. “Purse. Now.”

“Please.” Janet was on the verge of tears. “At least let me take my locket with me. It’s my husband’s, you see. He passed away-”

“I don’t give a fuck.” The gang member reached down and pulled on the purse’s straps. “I’ll take the whole fucking lot.”

“Please!”

“Let go bitch!” He pulled and the purse slipped from her hands.

Janet, her entire body trembling, stood up and slapped him. Everything fell silent. The second last gang member looked rather impressed rather than mad.

“You wanna fucking die?!”

“Easy.” The second last gang member held his shoulder. “She’s just upset. Now, sit down.”

He pushed Janet back. Her legs could not take the rapid movement and she stumbled backwards. Anton instinctively grabbed her and guided her back to her chair. He immediately regretted his decision as he face the center aisle.

“Anton.” The gang member almost growled. “Stand up you piece of shit. You’ve got a lot of balls to be in this part of town.”

Anton did as he was told. His body did not feel cold, as he expected. He did not feel anything.

“Lucas-”

“Don’t call me by my fucking name!” Lucas thrust his pistol towards Anton. Janet pulled closer to the chair and away from any potential stray bullet. “I told you that I’d kill you if I ever saw you again. And I fucking meant it!”

Lucas spat onto the ground. Like the other gang members his face and neck was covered with tattoos. Two small blue eyes tried to bore through Anton’s through sheer hate. His cracked lips pulled back to reveal the blackened and rotting teeth, even his tongue had taken on a green tinge.

“Do you think I’m a fucking liar?!”

“Those drugs-”

“The fuck are you doing?!” The gang member at the front yelled. He held both trembling hands on his pistol and trained it on the bus driver, loudly whimpering as he held his chest. “Fucking stop it!”

“You’re going to give him a heart attack!” Lucas shouted. “So back off-”

The bus driver collapsed onto his steering wheel and the bus began to accelerate. Immediately the bus veered away from the oncoming traffic and swiped a parked car. A woman screamed as the gang members, and Lucas, stumbled back. Anton lunged for the pistol in Lucas’s hands. Lucas snarled but could not avoid Anton’s hands. They wrestled for the gun as the bus continued to accelerate and veer across the road.

“Let go!”

Lucas bit Anton’s hand. His rotten teeth was very sharp and drew blood. Anton kicked the floor and rammed Lucas with his body, kicking him in the shins. As they wrestled for the gun a crack rang out. A small wisp of smoke leaked from the end.

“The fuck did you do?!” The gang member had completely frozen. Blood poured out of the bus drivers back, staining his shirt as he completely collapsed onto the steering wheel, blasting the horn with his weight.

“’Bout time you’re a fucking murderer.” Lucas’s hot and vile breath washed over Anton’s face. “Looks like you can go to prison this time.”

The bus jolted again, all of the windows on the far side mashed and exploded inwards. As the shower of broken glass struck them Anton flicked his eyes to the pistol. His fingers were inside the trigger, Lucas’s were nowhere near.

“You’re the bastards trying to rob-”

“Fucking justify it this time, you little bitch! Spend the next thirty years getting raped by Big Trev-”

A new horn blew, much louder than the buses. A bright light washed over them from behind Anton. Lucas, and all of the gang members, were utterly transfixed in terror. Anton glanced behind him and time slowed to a crawl. Four bright lights shone into the bus, four bright lights from a speeding train. Anton’s eyes managed to catch the light reflected from the boom gate, tumbling in the air beside the train.

Time snapped back to normal. Anton did not even manage a single cry before the train struck the bus. For the tiniest moment he heard a cacophony of twisting and breaking metal, the pain of his body being crushed and skewered by flying debris. The next moment everything stopped, replaced by an endless black void.

]---[]---[

Anton gasped as his lungs spasmed. Every part of his body ached, so much pain that he could barely even turn his head to breathe. He lay face down on something hard but he could not feel if it was hot or cold. Slowly the pain receded and the strength returned, enough to tilt his head.

“Ugh.” Anton’s body shuddered as the coughing began to slow. “What...H-Hello?”

As he unsteadily rose to a crouch he rubbed his eyes hard. An endless black void lay before him, extending in every direction making it impossible to determine even where the floor met the air.

Am I blind?

Anton pulled his hands away. He could see them both with perfect clarity, as if it was being lit up from every direction simultaneously. He looked around but could not find the source of light.

“Hello?”

His voice sounded strange. While he had no idea for how far the black void extended, he could not hear any echo, not even in his own head. He tapped his shoe on the ground. It sounded just as strange.

“Is anyone there?!” Anton waited for something, anything, even if it was just his own voice, but nothing came from the void.

No echo, no reverberation. Nothing. Is this what it’s like when you die? I know we were hit by that train. So...Is this it? No bright light or flaming torment? Just an endless black void until I go mad? I was never a religious person, far from it, but if they told it was like this...

He brushed down his cheap suite. The tiny flecks of dust and thread floated away, propelled only by his action and formed a cloud near his feet. Some struck the floor and made it easier to differentiate from the rest of the void. He began to walk, unsure of his current direction. The black void did not recede from him. Simply lacking the ability to see where he was placing his feet was disorienting in itself.

Anton stopped as his head began to spin. “The fuck am I?”

He ran his hand over his suit again. It was in perfect condition, despite remembering vividly the last few milliseconds of his life. Anton frowned as he could not find the small tear underneath his arm. Though it was only a few threads it had disappeared as well.

“Is...Is this not...” Anton closed his eyes. “What am I even saying? I’m dead. Or I’ve lost my mind. Shot in the head and completely lost my mind. I wonder if this is actually the inside of a padded cell.”

Anton rubbed the floor but still felt nothing, neither hot nor cold and perfectly smooth. As he looked at the solid darkness, still indistinguishable from the surroundings, sense of panic began to rise through his body. His hands began to tremble and his legs felt weak.

“Hello?!” Anton shouted with all his might. “Is anyone there?!”

“...Hello?” A voice replied, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. “Is someone still there?”

Relief washed over Anton. “Hello! Where are you?”

Something moved in the black void, a deep purple shade roughly in the shape of a human. “Hello? Oh...Just wait there. I won’t be long.”

As the purple shade drew closer, slowly growing in definition, Anton heard another sound. His right hand ached at the sound of a growling wolf. When he looked behind he could not see anything other than faint red lights dancing in the distance. They moved from side to side, slowly growing closer.

“Don’t move.” The purple shade said. “I’m almost there.”

In a single step the purple shade became an elderly man, an elderly man dressed as a Roman senator, with a purple sash instead of red. The toga left part of his chest exposed, he had an impressive build despite his obvious age. He smiled, the weathered lines of his face creased heavily, and gently nodded.

“You’re lucky that I was still here. Almost everyone else has already left, since one of us managed to sweep the pot.”

The elderly man gently stroked his immaculately trimmed white beard and closed his eyes, slowly nodding as if he had discovered something profound. The seconds passed and Anton could not wait any longer.

“Who are you?...And what the fuck are you talking about?” Anton looked up, then behind where the dancing red lights were continuing to draw closer. “What is this place?”

“What?” The elderly man snapped his head up. “Oh. Please forgive me. My mind tends to wander...” He coughed lightly. “My name is Stratos, God of Storms.”

Stratos bowed low. He groaned as he tried to right himself, his face contorted in pain as he placed a hand on his back.

“At least you missed all that boring haggling.” Stratos scoffed. “That was...An embarrassment, for everyone, especially everyone that stayed around to listen her prattle on.”

Stratos jerked his head backwards. Part of the darkness behind him receded. Many people emerged through the darkness. Dozens of people, some that Anton even recognized. He saw the back of Janet, the middle aged man who had been struck in the head, along with Lucas and his gang.

“Fuck it.” Anton stepped past Stratos. “They’ll do.”

They stood with their backs to him, facing a tall woman with flowing blonde hair. She waved her hand over them and darkness swallowed them once again.

“No! Where...Where did they go?” Anton felt relief when he looked back to Stratos and found that he was still there.

“Hmm? Oh. It has been a while.” Stratos chuckled as he held Anton’s shoulder. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you have died.”

“I guessed that.” Anton could see Stratos’s hand but could not feel any warmth. “I remember being on a bus, torn apart by metal-”

“Excellent! Not dying, obviously, but it took an awful long time for some of them to accept that.” Stratos shook his head as he looked to the red dancing lights. More had gathered but had not drawn any closer. “Long enough for them to notice.”

“And what are they?” Anton took a step back.

“Nothing for us to worry about.” Stratos slapped his back. “So long as we’re gone before they get here.” He held a finger to Anton’s chest. “So long as you are gone. I’m fine...Anyway. Normally, when Humans die on Earth...This is going to get very uncomfortable for my back if we’re just standing and talking. Please, have a seat.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Stratos motioned to his right. A large marble table and thirteen chairs lay where there had been darkness moments before. Like them they were well illuminated without any obvious source of light. Stratos beckoned Anton to follow and take a seat. Anton kept his eye on the dancing red lights, still drawing ever closer.

“That’s better.” Stratos loudly exhaled as his rear touched the hard marble chair. He took a moment to savor it before leaning forward, clasping his hands tight together. “I’ll start from the beginning. Our world is in terrible-”

“Bloody waste of time.” Another voice echoed. Stratos sighed and his shoulders drooped. “Bitch managed to snag them all again.”

“Are you still here, Esperit?” Stratos asked.

“Why are you?” The voice was already closer and clearly a woman’s.

“Just come over here. I think we missed one, somehow.”

A red shade rapidly emerged through the darkness, each shadowy step was followed by a loud clack, a high heel striking the hard dark floor.

“How did we miss one?” The red shade grew into a woman. “Everyone was here. And that hasn’t happened in...I don’t know how long.”

The woman standing before them wore very little, especially compared to Stratos. A tight strapless red dress barely managed to contain a very large pair of breasts, nor did it cover much of her legs, stopping at her upper thighs. Her bright red high heels were arched incredibly high, designed to accentuate bronzed, well-toned legs. Her red eyes studied him but Anton was almost hypnotized by her flaming red hair, literally flaming. While it was a slow and steady deep red fire Anton watched the ends flicker out of existence before being reformed by new fire. Anton found it difficult to look away.

“Hello, Stratos.”

“You honestly thought that was a good idea?” Stratos folded his arms.

The woman sighed. Her head and shoulders dropped to a level unbefitting her beauty.

“Maybe. I was hoping to get at least one. Just one.” She balled her hands into fists and shook them at the sky. “Just one. But, as usual-”

“Not this time.” Stratos happily slapped the marble table. “Now...Umm. I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t think I got your name.”

“Anton. Anton Thorn.”

“Anton.” Stratos smiled. “This is Esperit, Goddess of Fire. Not that her hair left it in any doubt.”

“I didn’t chose this.” Esperit ran a hand backwards through her hair, throwing out dozens of tiny embers, none of which affected the density of her hair. “So what have you told him?”

“Nothing yet. I was about to, when you interrupted.”

“Right, right.” Esperit walked to a chair. Her high heels did not impede her in any way. “Please, continue.”

She loudly kicked off her high heels and placed her legs onto the marble table, facing away from them. Esperit came across as rather slovenly, despite her initial appearance.

“Anton.” Stratos began. “We did not rescue your souls from oblivion out of the goodness of our hearts. No. I wish it were so. We need your souls because when yours are brought from your world to ours they absorb this.” He waved to the surrounding darkness. “And by doing so it grants the...The owner of the soul immense power. Rather, the capacity for power and mana. Now, you won’t just be able to create world ending storms of walls of fire right away-”

“What power?” Anton felt his was asking the obvious.

Stratos smiled and raised his hand. A ball of lightning emerged, crackling and jittering violently.

“Magic, Anton. We are talking about magic.” He closed his hand and the lightning disappeared. “Unlike your world we have magic. We are Gods. I thought I already said this?”

“There’s no way he’d just accept it.” Esperit murmured. She juggled a small ball of fire. “Especially coming from his world.”

“Quite.” Stratos looked over Anton’s shoulder and impatiently tapped his hands. The red lights had tripled in number and were much closer now. “And we need you, and the others that we rescued, to help us.”

Esperit placed her legs down and flicked her arm towards the center of the marble table. A steady flame emerged, in which Anton could see movement. Large dark figures crashed through armies and wooden cities, crushing fleeing people under massive hands.

“Our world is threatened by Demons.” Esperit began. “Creatures from another world. And while it is entirely possible that the forces of our world can defeat them, bringing you lot through gives us a much needed edge.”

A monstrous shadowy figure turned to face them. It was difficult to make out anything of its face but Anton saw the six glowing eyes, arranged in vertical pairs. The Demon opened its flaming mouth and lunged towards them. Esperit waved her hand and the flame disappeared.

“You’re taking this quite well.” Stratos frowned lightly.

Anton slowly flexed his hands. “Either...Either this is real, so I should take this serious. Or I’ve lost my mind...And I should take it seriously.”

Esperit chuckled. “Whatever works for you. Now, we aren’t going to send you completely unprepared. Nor are we dropping you right into the thick of it. We can buy a little time, but not much. Even so, we cannot interfere too much with the mortal world but we can give you our magic. But, you have to choose.”

“I can only use one type of magic? Is that how it works here?”

“A single person can only have a single blessing.” Stratos began. “The body...Simply cannot take it. So choose...I thought she was gone already.”

This time Anton heard metal chains striking itself. He turned to find the source and received a face full of soft white cloth. He looked up to see a woman, wearing an entirely white nun’s habit, hugging him tight. He could not see her face or any of her skin, the white cloth covered everything. As she slowly rocked back and forth he felt the metal chain crossed over her chest. Judging by the way the clothes rested on her body the metal chains covered almost all of her body. The white nun did not relinquish her hold when Anton tried to pull away. He was not averse to receiving a large and soft bosom to the face but not under the current circumstances.

“I definitely thought you would have gone.” Esperit murmured.

The white nun shook her head. She lessened her hold of Anton but was clearly not letting him go.

“The lovely woman currently hugging your head is Tethra, Goddess of Prayer. Normally she would tell you this herself, but she is currently very weak.”

Tethra glumly nodded.

“If it weren’t for the chains she’d be dead.” Stratos sighed. “But I’m glad that you’re here. You want him for yourself? Well, you need-”

Tethra finally relinquished her hold. She produced a small pure white crystal, a two inch tetrahedron, almost the same colour as the marble table and chairs.

“Oh?” Esperit shuffled closer. “You think he’s the one?”

Tethra nodded.

“This is...?”

“Normally you can only have one blessing of a God.” Stratos began. “But this allows you to have more.”

“So why doesn’t everyone-”

Tethra interrupted him. She gently took Anton’s right hand in hers, and slammed the white crystal into it. It sunk into his flesh, but Anton felt every excruciating moment as his body formed around it.

“What the fuck?!” Anton stood up, the marble chair refused to move even though he kicked against it. “The fuck did you just do?!”

“Only...” Tethra held her throat tight, her voice rasped and cracked with every painful letter. “Choice...People...Need...Help.”

Tethra began to cough. The white cloth covering her face turned wet then red. Esperit rushed to her side and gently rubbed her back, the chains covered her there as well.

Anton looked at his hand. His skin had formed a ridge around the edge of the crystal, red and raw, but it had not come through on the other side.

“You should have said so.”

Tethra slowly nodded as she stood upright. The blood quickly faded from her face.

“Since we’re doing this now.” Esperit waved for Stratos to stand. “We shall give you all of ours.”

The three held his left hand in turn, each time he felt a tiny burst of pain, nothing compared to the white crystal. When they were done three small markings lay on the back of his hand: an orange and red flame, a purple and white lightning bolt and two white hands clasped in prayer.

“This will allow you to...Shit.” Esperit looked behind them.

The dancing red lights were only a few meters away. Now Anton could make out thousands of black teeth just behind the lights, the lights were actually eyes of some maddened and hateful creature.

“Almost out of time.” Esperit grabbed Anton’s shoulders hard. “Anton. Listen to me and listen well. Your magic is the only advantage you have in our world. Don’t overdo it. Otherwise you’re going to be in serious trouble.”

The teeth and eyes surged towards him. Anton felt his legs tremble.

“B-But I don’t know how to use it-”

Esperit pushed him away from the eyes and teeth. “Think of them as shapes. Simple shapes to start with. Trust me it’ll come to you. Oh. And this is incredibly important.” She held his face and stared into his eyes. “Whatever you do, don’t abandon the village you find yourself in. Understood?”

“I don’t understand anything!”

Stratos and Tethra disappeared as the eyes and teeth surged around them.

“Too late.” Esperit gave his shoulders a quick squeeze and pushed him. The solid darkness gave way and his body fell away. “Don’t abandon them! We’re sending help and you can’t...”

Esperit’s voice grew distant and dim as the darkness consumed him once again.

]---[]---[

Anton's eyes opened once again. A circle of distant stars greeted him, somehow the edge of the circle was rough and uneven. He blinked again and it began to make a little more sense. It was a hole in a wooden roof, created by something passing through at tremendous speed.

"Was that me?" Anton asked, knowing full well it was. "I should be dead... Again.” He grunted and scrunched his eyes tight. “Shouldn't I? Who can honestly say they’ve died multiple times? I must be crazy.”

He shook his head. Pieces of straw landed on his face, throwing up tiny plumes of dust up his nose. After brushing them aside he rose up. He felt the hard straw fall away from his shirt and head while it dug lightly into his pants.

Though he was in near complete darkness, the only source of light came from the twinkling stars, nothing from light bulbs or even candles, his eyes slowly adjusted. He lay in a barn, a rickety and ramshackle one at that. The pile of straw that served as his bed lay in the center, several large wooden crates sat near the door but otherwise it was empty.

"How did I end up in the countryside?" Anton muttered as he shuffled down the pile. "From work... Gods... Then this? Did I drink something bad? Was I drugged?"

The tiny jolts of pain he received from the sharp ends of straw told him he certainly was not dreaming. His shoes touched the ground, hard compacted dirt, and he brushed the straw away.

"I've definitely been drugged. It’s been a pretty good tip, I’ll say that..."

Anton frowned as he flexed his hands. A heaviness covered his entire body, like he was submerged in water yet it did not impede his movement in any way.

"It was real... So, magic?"

Anton took a deep breath and held out his hand.

Esperit said to make simple shapes. And then what? Just release a ball of lightning or fire outside of my body? I’ll burn or electrocute myself...This is ridiculous.

As he was still in near darkness Anton decided to try making fire first. He closed his eyes and tried to manipulate his mana, the heaviness, into a sphere above his hand. His mana obeyed his thoughts, somewhat, and slowly formed into a sphere. Anton dared a peek, though he could feel it he could see nothing.

And think of it as fire?

Even as the sphere of mana tried to return to his body, like sand running out of a bag which he constantly refilled, he envisioned it as a burning ball of fire. The mana sphere changed and began to feel like it was made of fire. It also stopped trying to return to his body, to the rest of his untransformed mana.

Anton removed the small trail of mana connecting himself to the sphere. A bright light shone through his closed eyelids. Hovering above his hand was a small ball of bright orange fire, the flames formed a vaguely tear drop shape.

"Holy shit! It worked!...Why isn’t it hot?"

Anton's bare fingers were but a few centimeters from the flame yet he felt nothing. Even more alarming was that his clothes, almost as close as he hands, were not warming either.

"It's a great illusion then."

Anton crouched down, the ball of fire followed his hand, and took a piece of straw. He held it close and it immediately burst into flames.

"Shit, it's real."

Anton dropped the burning straw and stomped until the embers had blackened. He reached to touch the straw but his fingers felt the warmth. A brief touch, followed by a searing sensation, told him it was indeed hot.

"Not the flame itself, but everything it touches?" Anton shook his head. "How does that work?"

As he pondered the question Anton looked around the barn again. Rusted tools hanged on the walls, old farming tools, memorabilia really. Sickles, hoes and pitchforks. All looked old and fashioned from hand and bound to their handles with tight straps of some sort of plant material, no screws in sight.

"It certainly looks medieval." Anton mused as he approached the tools.

As he drew closer he noticed the edges of some of the weapons were dark, far darker than rust. He tapped the darkened areas. Blood. Dried blood, but he knew what it was.

Please don't tell me those Gods sent me to some medieval cannibal cult? Is that why they told me not to leave? Was that stuff about Demons a load of crap? A bit elaborate, don’t you think?

Anton backed away and looked towards the door. Nothing was coming for him, at least not yet.

Better not wait here and find out. If I am wrong, I could just be sitting here for days waiting for nothing.

Anton gave the wooden crates a momentary glance. The wood, like everything inside the barn, was roughly cut and while the crate itself was held together only with nails. The nails were very crude, with a large roughly rounded head, like it was made by hammer rather than a machine. He gave the lids a push but all were shut tight.

"What could be so important... Oh. An axe."

A small axe lay against the wall just to the side of the door. The metal head was not stained in blood but did not look sharp. The shaft had only been roughly sanded back with a thick band of dried reeds wrapped tight to act as a handle.

"I just hope I don't have to use this. When was the last time I actually used a weapon?" Anton gripped his hand tight on the axe. He managed a smile when he looked at the fire ball. "I've already forgotten that this isn't a torch."

Anton gave the barn door a gentle push. It slowly began to swing open before slamming back in his face. Anton's heart raced as he stumbled back, raising his axe and putting the fire ball directly in front. Through the pounding of his head he heard someone running outside, away from the barn and into the distance.

"Shit." Anton held his chest, the axe laid flat underneath his hand. "Let's try that again."

Anton pushed the door with his foot, keeping his axe and fire ball up and ready to attack. This time nothing stopped him as it swung open. Rusted hinges groaned and the door stopped moving when it was open just enough to slip through. Anton raised the fire ball and peered out. Through the opening he could make out small wooden buildings only a few meters away, built similarly to the barn, complete with doors and wooden slat windows but little else.

So what ran into the door?

Anton slunk out, careful not to let the fire ball touch anything, and looked around. There were many small wooden buildings, built closely together to form a rough street. None had been built uniformly, creating a slight meandering compacted dirt path. No light emanated from the small houses, not one, but several torches illuminated the road, housed in metal frames and held almost a meter from the building.

A medieval village. I wonder if they can tell me what's really going on?

Anton turned back to the barn and jumped in surprise. The barn door had not simply stopped because it was old. A bloodied body lay slumped against the door, a middle aged man wearing brown woollen shirt and pants. Cuts and blood covered his dirty hands, one of his feet lay twisted to the side, also covered in dirt and blood.

"Fuck." Anton raced to his side. "Hey? Are you alive?"

The man was still warm but very dead. Behind him lay a great pool of blood, far more than what could be safely lost. The blood had begun to dry and stuck his clothes to his body, his limbs to one another, now only with strands of blood.

"Who did this... Demons? How am I supposed to fight them? They were massive..."

Anton heard more running, coming from where mysterious door slammer had run from. Two people emerged from behind a house, the corner of the street, a man and a woman. They wore similar clothes as the dead man with only slightly less blood. The woman's long blonde hair trailed behind her, clumped together with matted blood and dirt. Fresh blood stained the man's black hair and ran down his face in great rivers, mixing with dirt and sweat.

The woman stumbled and struck the ground hard.

"Fuck!" She struggled to her feet, her hands covered in dirt and fresh wounds. "Keep running!"

"Come on!" The man roughly took her hand and pulled. "I promised your mother that we'd live."

The two finally looked forward and saw Anton. For a moment they were utterly bewildered, Anton was still wearing his cheap suit and tie, the next relief washed over them.

"Hey!" The man waved. "You need to get-"

His body collapsed, a puppet whose string had been cut, and skidded along the ground. His head hit a raised lump and twisted at an odd angle.

"Huh?" The woman only realized something was wrong when the man's hand held her back. "What's-"

She too collapsed in a heap, this time a great spurt of blood erupted from the back of her head. Something flew through the air and landed at his feet. A simple smooth stone, covered in fresh blood. The woman's blood.

A cackling screech echoed from between two of the houses. A child emerged and laughed. It pointed at the two downed adults and waved down the street, letting out a mocking laughter. More children emerged and ran towards the two, laughing as their feet struck the ground. One neared the torch. They were not human.

"The fuck are they?" Anton snapped himself out of his stupor and hid behind the barn door. He kept the fire ball burning, simply because he did not know how to stop it.

The laughing creature stood in the light. The yellow skinned creature barely stood a meter tall, it sneered with a vaguely human face, one with an oversized and pointed nose, long and drooping ears, narrow eyes with an intense and hateful stare. Thin wisps of black hair lay against its head as it licked its thin lips. In its knobbly hand lay a sling, in the other two large smooth stones. It scratched its distended pot belly which hanged over its only piece of clothing, a ragged fur loincloth.

That's a fucking Goblin if I ever saw one.

The other three Goblins were just as horrific. These wielded stone daggers and sharpened sticks. While primitive Anton did not think his clothes would be enough to stop them.

A Goblin ran to the man and kicked him in the back. It screeched at the others, they laughed, and their attention turned to the woman.

Do I help them? Of course I should. But how... How do I throw this magic?

The sling Goblin screeched at another. It pointed to the bloodied stone resting near the barn. It received a flurry of screeches, laughter and was promptly ignored. It spat on the ground and trudged towards the bloodied stone with slumped shoulders and a downcast head.

Okay. Just throw it like a stone. That will work. Right? If it doesn't I'll have to hide in the barn and take them on one at a time.

The sling Goblin's eyes narrowed to little more than slots as it looked at the light from Anton's fire ball. It tilted its head and placed a stone into its sling.

Please work.

Anton pushed against the fire ball. It shot out of his hand, straight towards the sling Goblin. Stupefaction covered its face the moment before it collided. Anton felt the fire ball disintegrate through his connection the moment it touched its face.

The sling Goblin screamed as fire enveloped its body. It managed a single step before collapsing. The fire continued to burn, blackening its yellow skin and boiling the blood beneath.

The other three yellow Goblins stopped their prodding of the woman and frowned at the unnatural sight. One pointed at Anton and screeched. Without the flame above his hand, and now the dead sling Goblin providing light, he was exposed.

Anton created another fire ball, this was somewhat larger than the first as he was panicking, and threw it at the closest Goblin. The Goblin tried to shield its face but the flames still quickly enveloped its body. The remaining two shared a quick glance and ran towards him. Though they were short their legs propelled them at a tremendous speed.

Shit!

Anton threw a smaller fire ball. The Goblin fell, engulfed in flame, but was not dead. It struggled to its feet, its burning face utterly consumed by pain and rage.

The second Goblin threw its sharpened stick. Anton darted behind the barn door, the stick struck loudly before landing on the ground.

“They’re going to have to come to me.” Anton muttered softly as he gripped his axe tight. He backed away from the door, his shoes stepped on the loose pieces of straw with a loud crunch. “Fire’s going to set this whole place...I was given lightning. Right?”

The pattering of the Goblin’s feet made Anton’s heart race once again. He formed the sphere of mana again, this time imagining it as a ball of crackling and arcing lightning. When he brought it into being blue white streamed through his closed eyes. A ball of lightning hovered his hand, jittering and throwing off tiny arcs of lightning. It emitted a faint rumbling, like a continuous but distant lightning strike.

It’s magic. Some things just aren’t going to make sense.

The unburnt Goblin poked its head through. Its beady eyes constricted as it focused on the incredibly bright light. Anton threw the lightning ball. Compared to the fire ball the lightning flew like a bullet. The moment after Anton threw it the lightning ball struck the Goblin, exploding in a roar and blast of light. The Goblin’s head and neck had disintegrated in the blast, its shoulders and torso torn with deep cuts and burns. The dead Goblin collapsed against the barn door and pushed it open.

Anton created another lightning ball and waited for the third Goblin. A charred hand gripped the edge of the door as the Goblin collapsed onto the other dead Goblin. Its body shook violently, the smell of roasting flesh was unbearable. Anton threw the second lightning ball at its back. The Goblins torso disintegrated in the explosion, leaving just the burnt limb and head behind.

“That...” Anton scrunched his eyes tight. “This is...So gruesome. So different compared to television or movies.”

Anton stepped over the dead Goblins, with the axe still in his hand and a fresh fire ball to illuminate the way. No one else had entered the street, nor had the two people risen. Anton crouched and hurried to them. Neither had a heartbeat and they rested in growing pools of blood.

“Sorry.” Anton muttered. “I’m sorry. If I find anyone I’ll let them know what happened.”

Anton looked both ways along the street. Part of him wanted to follow the direction of the two, seemingly away from whatever was befalling the village, but the words of the Gods rung in his hears.

“I’m going to regret this. I just know it.”

As Anton walked along the street, his eyes straining to see the Goblins hiding in the shadows, fearing a stone striking his head before being set upon, he began to hear shouts. It was a mixture of voices, words he could understand and screeches of the Goblins.

Someone’s still alive. I hope that they don’t attack me. I do look pretty strange.

Anton followed the noise until the street came to a crossroads, the pathway before him was blocked by a mixture of overturned hand drawn carts, planks of wood and huge piles of straw. He managed to find a gap and peered through. Goblins and Humans fought in a bloody struggle. Both had formed lines, the Goblins and their pointed sticks, the Humans with their pitchforks and hoes. They ebbed back and forth, unwilling to be the first to charge and break, while stones flew in all directions. A man was struck in the head and collapsed. The Goblins tried to charge into the hole but were impaled on the pitchforks and quickly retreated.

I’ve got to get higher. I can’t help down here.

Anton stepped back. The ramshackle barricade formed a rough path towards the roof of the neighboring building. Anton started the climb but the fire ball remained just above his hand.

Maybe...Maybe I can just move it around me. Without throwing it?

With the most gentle touch Anton pushed the fire ball above his head. Much to his relief the flaming ball responded and hovered above his head. Again he couldn’t feel the heat but he could now climb. Splinters dug into his hand as the shouting beyond grew louder and louder, now the sounds of metal striking metal rang out.

Not good. Not good at all.

Anton jumped to the roof. His shoes slipped on the thatch roof, throwing off clumps, but he persevered. He scrambled to the top and winced at the sight. The wooden buildings formed a circle which Anton presumed acted as some sort of market plaza during the day. While the circle was full of movement almost all was of yellow skin of the Goblins, all pushing towards a single point. The Humans had been pushed into a tight bunch before the largest of the buildings and were continuing to constrict. Though the flashes of torches Anton saw their pained faces, men and women of all ages gasping for breath as the crush pushed upon them.

“Like a fucking stampede.” Anton tried to stand but his shoes slipped. He landed hard on the ridge of the roof, his hands stung but he pulled himself up. “Okay...Take this.”

Anton threw the fire ball at the Goblins. The flames consumed only a few Goblins, ten at the most, but their terrified screeches cause a ripple of fear to travel over their side. Their attacks against the Humans lessened as they searched for the unknown attacker.

I need something bigger. They’re not mindless...I need something to break them. And nothing scares people like lightning.

Anton knew he did not have time to experiment. Already some of the closest Goblins had found him. They pointed and screeched, a thrown rock struck the roof beneath his feet.

“Fuck off!” Anton yelled.

He shuffled behind the ridge of the roof as the stones continued to fly towards him. He closed his eyes and began to create as many lighting balls as he could. As he released one he created another, taking more and more of the heaviness, his mana from his body, and made them hover behind him. When there was simply nothing more to take he looked back towards the Goblins. They had resumed their attacks on the Humans while they continued to throw rocks and stones at him. Some had started to climb onto the buildings to reach him. Their expression’s dropped when they saw the sheer number of lightning balls that Anton had. Anton was sure that it was an impressive number but it was nearly impossible for him to think straight. Only adrenaline kept him going, Esperit’s words of warning less than a distant memory.

That many was a mistake. But there’s nothing else for it!

Anton threw and scattered the lightning balls over the Goblins, uncaring where they landed. They landed and exploded at once in a mighty flash of light and the roar of dozens of lightning strikes. Hundreds of Goblins died simultaneously, hundreds more were horribly wounded. The entire Goblin force was completely stunned, but the Humans weren’t. A mighty cheer erupted from the beleaguered Human as they charged. They hacked through the panicking Goblins with their farming tools and even their bare hands. Something at the rear of the Goblin’s screeched. The Goblins began to retreat, not as a cohesive force but a complete rout.

“Yes...” Anton’s head began to spin, like his body was trying to fly away now that his mana, the heaviness had left him. “I...I hope they can understand...”

All of the strength left Anton’s body. His legs crumped and his chest struck the ridge of the roof, knocking the wind from his lungs. As he began to slide down, his shoes unable to find anything or the strength to stop him he was certain that he heard voices approaching. His left foot struck a raised piece of wood just before the edge of the roof, stopping his body as his mind went dark for the second time that day.