Well!  That smarts a bit.  Ow.  Okay, make that a lot.  That smarts a lot.  Of course, that’s what happens when you’ve got a stick through your gut, huh?  Bloody OW.  That’s an 8 or 9 out of 10 right there.  It could be worse, it’s at least only a couple areas; at least I’m not on fire.

I mean, not yet anyway.  Plenty of gas and exposed wires in what’s left of my little puddle jumper a couple dozen feet away.  Don’t get me wrong, this sucks, but that could suck even worse.

Ah, there’s the drowsiness.  I know better than to remove myself from my personal kebab skewer, but that doesn’t stop the femoral from being a problem elsewhere, and there’s only so much pressure you can put on with your bare hands.  You know, I thought I’d be panicking right about now.  It’s on the list of symptoms and everything.  The body only holds, what, four, five liters?  I think I’ve lost about two.  I can’t get my breathing rate under control, so at least that much was expected.

What wasn’t expected was my engine to suddenly cut out and then, gliding to the nearest clearing I could see, a dang murder of crows came flying out of the trees right in front of me.  And I made the decision to try to go *under* it.  Gah, I shouldn’t have been flying so low past the point of no return in the first place.  Stupid, stupid.  They better mail my Darwin Award to my sister, heh.

I knew I was flying over the sticks, but I wasn’t expecting to fly into the sticks.  I manage to get a light chuckle out of my own bad joke before a groan from the pain cuts it out.  Hey, I’m bleeding out here, I think I’m entitled to a bad joke or five.

I should really be more upset about this.  I know some people skip grief stages, but straight to 5?  About myself?  Maybe I’m just taking “in shock” too literally.

I hear a cawing and look up to see a crow staring at me.  Well, at least it’s waiting patiently to eat me after getting me killed.  I’m down for cremation anyway so it’s six one way, half dozen the other, no worrying about open or closed casket here.

“Better be grateful,” I manage to get out in a single breath.  Nice, me.  Nobody’s around to hear it, but I managed to avoid the typical “Oh shi-“ final words most pilots have.

“I am.”

Wait, who’s that?  I look back and forth across the woods but I’m pretty sure there’s nobody around here.  I’m so deep in the middle of nowhere the nearest person to me is probably Muriel.

“I’m right here, and I am grateful.”

I look back to the crow.  I know I’m out of it and totally boned here, but I wasn’t expecting to hallucinate like this.

“You’re not hallucinating, human.”

I’m a bit too preoccupied with wincing every other movement to outright stare at the bird, but I try to.  What, so a bird is talking to me?

“Yes and no.”

Wait, I didn’t even-

“I’m going to have to ask you to roll with this, okay?”

Okay, talking telepathy bird, noted.  Either that or I’m out of my mind.  Probably the latter.  Eh, either way, may as well indulge in it.  Not like I can do much else besides yell and wince.  I could use the distraction from the whole dying thing anyway.

“Excellent.  I know it’s your first time dealing with mind reading so don’t worry about any ‘don’t think about elephants’ scenarios here, I don’t care.”

It’s not like I have anything to- wait, aw crud, I never did put wipe my hard drive in my will.

“Heh, tell you what, I’ll tack that on as a freebie, sure.”

How would you- wait, is this not a bird?  Is this like some Greek mythology thing where the gods turn into animals at a whim?

“It’s not all that common, but this was something like that, yeah.”

Ew, a Zeus?  Does that mean

“No, I’m not making any halfbreeds with animals out here, ew.”

Well that’s good.  So not a Robot Chicken James Potter then.

“No. Besides, the third really wouldn’t like that.  I was out here flying about for gits and shiggles.  You just happened to be at the wrong place at the right time.  That’s it, really.”

Huh.  It’s not like I don’t relate to flying about for the heck of it, but, well, hell.

“Yeah.  That murder wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t.  Sorry about that, that’s awkward.”

So if you’re some kind of god or whatever, can you patch me up?

“I could.  I’m not going to, but I could.”

What the heck?  Why not, you sociopathic pigeon?  Wait, is it really just waiting to eat me?  Bloody scavenger birds.  Oh, well that’s lovely, there goes the fuel.  I can feel the heat from here.  I was kind of hoping the electricals had died when the engine cut out.

“Nah.  Certainly some of the animals around here are, but not me.  Instead, how about we strike a deal?”

Depends on the deal.

The crow leans forward from its perch in the branches.  “I’ll send you to another world.”

“Pass, Aqua” I say.

The crow leans back a bit, head tilted in confused surprise.  “What?  But you’re going to die.  And horribly, I might add.”

“I’ll die… eventually… anyway.  Pass,” I reply, panting out.  I have seen way too many ways this can monkey’s paw someone and I don’t have time to play the lawyer.  No dying in a loop or being born into slavery or turning into a witch for me, thanks.  Little winged nuisance gets me murdered by a murder and it’s trying to trick me now.

The crow caws once, and I can somehow tell that that was supposed to be a sigh.  “I’ve no intention of screwing you over in the course of an apology.”

This bloody bird!  I groan loudly, as much from frustration as the pain.  Well, 20-80 anyway.  Think, damn it, think.  I’m getting as irritated as I am confused.  Gah, irritating little gremlin of a bird or not, this is probably the blood loss talking.

“How about this,” the avian says.  Suddenly everything seems to shift.  The flames have stopped creeping closer.  What’s more, my breathing’s slowed down.  Erm, make that stopped entirely.  I can’t move, either.  Aw dammit, I’m dead, aren’t I?

The bird takes off, landing in front of me, looking me directly in the eyes.  “Almost, but no.  A combination of mental effects: thought acceleration, calm, and pain blocking.”

Ah.  Thanks, I guess.

“Right, now that that’s out of the way, you mentioned ‘playing the lawyer’, right?  I’m happy to let you make certain stipulations within reason.”

You sure you can’t just heal me?

“Again: can.  Won’t.”

Jerk.  I guess beggars can’t be choosers.  Then again, it’s not like I mind walking away from the bargaining table so I guess taking death over a fate worse than it is still a card I can play.

The bird nods.  “And your willingness to do it is fun!” it says.  “I’ll give you ten conditions.  So, want to start bargaining?”

Hm.  It doesn’t seem to be looking for a way to mess with me, though I’m not terribly fond of how it does everything on a whim for fun.

“Oy!” it squawks in offense.

Shut it, Botan, those whims of yours are literally killing me, I’m allowed to grouse about them.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

So, if it’s not playing a game of exact words, I shouldn’t need to make too many conditions.  Hopefully.  I’m not great at legalese anyway.  If I ask to be put in a world with future tech, I don’t think it’d put me in the stone age with a smartphone that comes out next year.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“That actually sounds hilarious, but I’ll restrain myself.  Is that a condition?”

Hell no, just establishing the ground rules.  First condition: I want to fly again.

“That didn’t go so well for you last time.”

Yeah, well, I like it, sue me.  No worlds where I can’t do that; and I’m not so well versed on technological building blocks that I can Senkuu myself one from scratch, so flight has to be actually available.

“That’s a given, actually.  Caution’s good, but again, I’m not going to ‘monkey’s paw’ you.”

Okay, good, that’s good.  Not taking any pages out of the Norm then, heh.  Point number two: language.  English.

“Oh?”

Yeah.  English, as I’d understand it now, as the primary language.  Everywhere.  By everyone.  None of the learning the language, have to wish in Namekian, auto-translating not coming across right kind of stuff.  Other languages can exist as secondary, but not being able to communicate as I’d please would be a massive headache.

“Wouldn’t that cause its own headaches?”

If it does then I’ll deal with those as they come.  Third point: global ‘systems’.  Digital, magical, whatever.  They can exist, even universally, but only if I can unbind myself from them.  It’s fine to gain XP or SP or whatever, and could be interesting for a bit.  On the other hand, hit points, for example, sound like they could be a pain in the butt.  If having HP meant you could start out one stubbed toe away from dying, like a squishy Wizard with a -2 in Constitution, I’d rather have the option to be the only one unbound to the HP.

Realistic injuries would suit me a lot better.  Uh, present circumstances excluded.

The crow seems to chuckle at that.  “I get the feeling we’re going to get along just fine. Done.”

It flies up to my shoulder, leans into my ear, and whispers.  “So, seven more to go.  What else?”

You know, I take it back.  I seem to have gone from acceptance right back to bargaining.

What else?  Hmm, I might have to think about that.

Do I want to be powerful?  Sure, I could go for that that, but I’d want to earn that the old-fashioned way.  I don’t want to be some hero handed ultimate power on a silver plate.  Absolute power corrupts absolutely, after all, and people who don’t earn something don’t appreciate it much.  I imagine the most accurate portrayal of “heroes” is that they’d be either preternatural boy-scouts to the point of being irritating, else they’d be absolute pricks.  That’s a fine line to walk, after all.

Ah!  That’s one!  Condition four: no jackass “heroes.” If I meet a hero, I want them to be an actual hero.

The crow tilts its head.  “That’s pretty subjective, don’t you think?”

Yeah, and?  Can you do it?

“Not really, that would depend on your perception of someone, and it might not match my own, plus opinions can change rapidly.  How about I give you the ability to strip that title away from someone?”

Well when you put it that way it just sounds nefarious.  You’re not going to make me some kind of demon, are you?

“I wasn’t planning on it, but if you don’t leave much of an option that might be the case.  I’d like to force this as little as possible while keeping to the spirit of your conditions.”

Uh uh, screw that.  I’ll take that suggestion for number four, but I’m striking the possibility of “demon” out right now.  Condition five: no monstrous, demonic, subhuman, animalistic, or inanimate reincarnations for me.  I don’t care to be a demon or a slime or a dungeon or a vending machine or anything like that.

“Okay, sure, an animate humanoid that isn’t kill-on-sight.  What else?”

Okay, I think that’s enough of the basics for now.  If I don’t wind up in a world with magic that should be mostly good.  Then again, unless a talking bird offering to take Alice to Wonderland is somehow sufficiently advanced technology, I’m probably going to be dealing with magic.

Yeah, lots of ways that can go wrong.  Mind control, slave crests, command seals, stuff like that.  Yeah, I don’t think I like the idea of being told to go defuse a minefield with my face and being forced to actually do it.

Okay, condition six: no one can magically or cybernetically control and/or directly compel anyone else against his or her will.

I hope Tweety here gets the meaning, I’m sure that one has a whole bunch of loopholes the way I said it.

“Yeah, I get it, no worries.”

Okay, good, no mind slavery is good.  I wouldn’t want you to send my soul somewhere I just get stringed along like a puppet or sacrificed like a pawn.

Wait, that’s right, that still leaves my soul vulnerable to being sacrificed by some kind of dark magic, doesn’t it?  Then again, I don’t even know if that makes sense.

“What?”

Tell me, Corvus: do souls even exist?

“In some worlds, yes.  But not in every world.”

And is this one of them?

Okay, mysteries of life time.  Here it comes.

Any second now.

Any moment.

Sheesh, is that fire getting closer?  I guess it hasn’t quite stopped.  This is just thought acceleration, he didn’t tell me how much it would be.

How long is the answer going to take?  I know I’m thinking and not talking here but he’s taking a bit.

Wait, he’s not going to say, is he?

“Bingo.”

Alright fine, keep your secrets.  I’m going to cut out the middle man.  Condition seven: no souls.

Uh, hello?

“CAW!  CAW!  CAW!”

Aah!  What is it now?  It’s cawing like it’s asking me to give it a fry!

“Sorry, that’s the bird body for you!  You, human, are incredibly amusing.  You don’t want your soul to be destroyed, so you don’t want anyone to have a soul in the first place?  I had to laugh!”

I get what the bird is saying, of course.  It sounds like cutting off one’s nose to spite one’s face.  But thing is: I don’t think we need souls.  Our personalities, memories, emotions, tendencies, thoughts, senses, everything that makes us us?  All of that can be found in the brain.

If I met someone who could laugh, sing, cry, feel, relate, have likes and dislikes, bleed, and die just like I could, but I knew that someone didn’t have a soul but I did, what would be the difference between us?  No heaven or hell?  Even if that applied to me if this works out, that wouldn’t make someone any less human.  Any less alive.  That someone would be truly mortal, and that’s all that means.

And I’m betting this little birdie would have told me if I had one if the answer was “yes” anyway, wouldn’t you, crow?

So yeah, Ryuk, condition seven: no souls.  You can rebuild me piece by piece as a Ship of Theseus.  It’s not like parts of the human body don’t get replaced.

He caws a few more times.  “That’s funny coming from you in particular.  Very well, done.  Seven conditions down, three to go.  On to the next?”

Yeah, I’m in the home stretch here.  Heck, if I’m already pushing the envelope like this I may as well go for broke.

Okay, think selfish.  Not money, that disappears.  Rule the world?  That’s a hassle with a target on my back, no.  Keep my cell phone?  No, only a moron would choose that with just ten conditions.

Should I go full Garlic Jr.?  No, wait, that’s a terrible idea, step that back a bit.  Let’s go Ponce de León here.  Condition Eight: Dragon!  Grant me eternal youth!

“You’re still thinking about Dragonball Z, aren’t you?”

Well, that’s embarrassing.  I seem to have been, yeah.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.  Alright, ‘your wish has been granted.’”

Wait, just like that?

“Just like what?”

It’s just I thought I’d get more push back for, I don't know, demanding something that self-centered?

“Oh please, you have more than one condition that’s harder than that.  That barely narrows the field.”

Okay, wow, does this bird, this entity, even have a limit?  Does it have a name?

“No name, but you can call me Meden.”

Okay, so it’s called Meden.  I think the voice sounds masculine too, so I think I’m dealing with a male?

“If that helps you, sure.”

Okay, I’m running out of conditions now, and I’m running out of ideas.  I can’t preclude every problem with conditions, especially not just two of them.  I need something to let me adapt on the fly, wherever I end up.  I have to get clever about this, or at least think of someone else who was clever.  If I had someone to tell me what to do, I’d be fine.

Wait, that’s it!  Condition nine: I get to summon you for information!

“Are you serious?” Meden says, managing to give me a flat look despite the beak.

Oh, and I am dead serious.  He can go back, that’s fine, but if I’m playing Link and he’s my Navi, I’m never getting lost!

“… you know what?  Fine, but I’m adding conditions of my own on that.”

I mean, that’s totally fair.  Even if I wanted to be a jerk about it, and I really don’t, and abuse that power, then condition six would interfere with that.

“Glad you understand.  That summon goes on a cooldown, 24 hours at least.  The longer I’m there, and the more often you summon me, the longer it becomes.  The subsequent cooldown will shorten if there’s enough length between summons.”

So, like, buying stuff in an RTS market?

“Like that, sure.”

Sounds fair then, thanks.

“Sure thing.  Now, for your final condition.”

Okay, think, what else?  Uh…

Um… huh.

I want to say… uh…

I’m really trying to think of something here, but I can’t.  Can I take a rain check?  Yeah, a rain check sounds good.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Meden states.

I have altered the deal.  Pray I don’t alter it any further! Aah!  Not the time to remember a Star Wars parody!  No, it’s fine, right?  He said I don’t have to worry about ‘don’t think about elephants’ stuff, so that should be fine.

“Yeah, things pop into peoples’ heads all the time, that’s not a big deal.  What is a big deal is leaving something like this open for later.”

Okay, so he can’t do that, I suppose that makes sense.

“I didn’t say that,” Meden says.  Oh shoot, I hope he didn’t think I was trying to goad him into doing it.  “I know you weren’t, I’m in your head, remember?  But if I’m going to let you take a rain check for later, then I’m going to extract a price for it.”

I don’t like the sound of that.  What kind of price?

“If you’d asked for more than one it would be a flat ‘no’, but for just one condition, I’ll place a limiter on you for as part of that ‘rain check’ of yours.  When you cash it in, that is, when you declare your tenth condition, I’ll remove it.”

That could be bad depending on what the limiter is.

“I won’t tell you what it is until you’ve arrived in your new world, but I’ll tell you it’ll be noticeable and inconvenient, but it’ll be painless and won’t be physically or mentally deleterious.  Still want a rain check?”

Hm, if I can cash it in at any time, once a day when I ‘caw’ for him, heh, then I don’t see the harm.  Alright, sounds good.  I’ll take a rain check for condition ten!

“Then the deal is struck!” the crow cries.  “Nine conditions are applied, as is the condition for your ‘rain check.’ See you on the other side, human!  Not that you will be.  What was it you called me?  ‘Navi’?”

In an instant everything snaps back and I wince and cry out at the sudden return of pain.  I feel the heat begin to press on me as the flames lick at my heels.

Don’t tell me I’ve been hallucinating this whole time.  I guess I should have expected that.  I’m starting to feel funny.  I kick at the ground in vain to try to shoo the fire away.

But somehow it feels like I’m not doing it, but that I am.  Is this what they call an out of body experience?  No, this feels more like I’m in two places at once.

The Ship of Theseus.  The teletransportation paradox.  But no, it’s not a ship.  It’s me.  It’s real.  I’m going to die, but I’m not going to die.

I swear I see double-vision, but all I see are flames and darkness as smoke moves to cover my vision.  I blink.

I open my eyes not to see a burning forest, but to find a field of flowers aflame.