It took longer than I would like to admit to fully calm down. I buried myself in old memories, watching them like one would watch a play, trying to soothe the unidentified wound that was making me react so significantly. I kept questioning; was it fear? Fear of being able to find out what living life as myself was like again? Was it the fear I had a choice to stop it all? My thoughts were convoluted, and I only succeeded in chasing my emotions around in circles. I was glad that Mags had only given me the one ‘order’ and then left me alone to do as I pleased until I was ready for him to deliver on his ultimatum.

I quietly tended to the table of plants that I’d swept to the floor, swapping out pots, sweeping and trimming off the broken stems. Keeping some of the broken off pieces and setting them up to see if they would root into new plants. When I caught sight of the broken stems, I would feel my cheeks flush with shame at the memory of them sailing through the air.

But it was time. I needed to face the music and set off on whatever Mags had in store for me.

The cavern of the in-between’s noises faded as I lay on the plinth, ready, the whirr and hum of the magics that transported me into my new life in full swing. A warm sensation passed over me, soothing the nerves that were riddling my mind a little.

I had gone into lives blind only a handful of times, out of the countless times I’d done this. Mostly it was in times like this, where Mags had decided I was being far too destructive to my own psyche and had stepped in. Early on I had fought him right until he’d manhandled me, grasping me in one hand like a child moves a doll, and placed me on the plinth and shunted me off into a life of his choosing.

After they ended, I always came out the other side with a newfound respect for him. I’d been stuck, and he’d forced me out of it by making me face something head on — I forget the specifics of the events now — it was early in my ‘career’. I was currently hoping he’d magicked up a way to fix these unruly emotions with whatever the life was he’d chosen.

The familiar roaring sensation as I became one with the person I was reincarnating as — I always questioned if I was stealing someone else’s life, but Mags always assured me that there was usually a reason that the soul had already left, I was replacing it like it’d never gone in the first place.

But the roaring. It was on the cusp of overwhelming, like those moments before fainting where the blood is rushing through your body into your head and your ears fill with a sound that’s nauseating. It peaked in a crescendo of sound and I gasped for breath, filling my lungs with woody scented air.

[You have arrived on Palinko]

[Your name is Jerric Alingo — though this may be changed within the first 12 hours. ]

[This world had access to a magic. You may pick a domain of your choosing from the following options:- [Reflection, Breathwork, Harmony]]

“Gods dammit Mags,” I said in my new voice, seeing the choice of magic — it was deep and resonant in my chest. I chuffed as I spoke. It was almost like Mags had sent me on a mandatory meditation retreat based on these powers available to me. I shook my head.

I looked down at my hands. My skin was tanned, and my hands had the signs of hard work in the form of callouses on them. Based on their size, I seemed to be an adult, which was nice. I had all my active memories, too. The why what, how etc. So I was taking stock of my current situation, trying to guess what options Mags had dialled in.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I looked around. I was in a simple wooden room, it had a bed, a chair that was pushed under a meticulously organised desk, and a low table in the centre of the room. One wall had a small window made of some kind of mesh, adjacent to a wooden door, the rest were just solid wooden panelling. I stood, feeling out the unfamiliar height of my latest self. The process, however, wasn’t unfamiliar — I ran through a series of movements to get used to the new meat suit. I smirked to myself, recalling the conversation Mags and I had after I announced to him that I used the word meat suits to refer to the body I inhabit during reincarnations horrified him. He’d spent the next several hours muttering to himself. I revelled in those moments that pushed him off kilter in the most obscure ways.

Whilst I acclimatised to my new meat suit, I flicked through all the information I was provided by the system and read up on the magic system. It was interesting — Mags had outdone himself; magic in this world could only be achieved by a ‘pristine mind’, as they called it. Which was a mind clear of tumultuous emotions.

You son of a.. I had no idea how he’d finagled the options so finely tuned that I had no choice but to work on emotional control and management to get anywhere. I breathed in another big wood scented lung full of air and let it out slowly. This was probably going to be a challenge.

***

The weeks passed in a blur of information, learning, and drills — I found I was a new intake to a monastery for people who had emotional control issues. Almost like an emotional rehab centre crossed with a monastery. Routine and meditation filled our days, all done in the goals of achieving that pristine mind.

Because of their instability, society had deemed each person staying here, myself included, a threat to society — the magic system in this world was highly sensitive to emotions and would manifest in archaic and unexpected ways if left unchecked. Just in my few weeks of being in this life, I’d had several outbursts. Each was as unpleasant as the last, and the latest had left me with significant burns over a portion of my body.

I was seeing returns on the intensive meditation and routines, in the form of taking my first steps to master my domain, Harmony; I had picked it because I figured either go hard into this life, and it works, or it doesn’t. But half-arsing it, and avoiding the reason Mags put me in this life, would just end up unsatisfying for everyone. I could half heartedly tell him a form of ‘I told you so’ but I hadn’t even known what was coming so that wouldn’t have even worked.

Fighting without fear, anger, rage, as a companion was something I had never really tried to do. There was usually no need to try — normally my fighting was fuelled by them. But the magic users here fought with a logical clarity that terrified me when I first witnessed it. To articulate the control over their magics without a backlash hitting them or their allies was essential. To me, as an outsider, the emotionless precision felt unnatural and gave me chills during those first few times I observed fights. It was also during my first attempt at learning to fight with emotional control that had abruptly ended with me being covered in burns. I was just thankful I had only hurt myself.

***

Years passed, and this life had given me a peace that I hadn’t realised I was missing, but now, at the end, I couldn’t help feeling robbed of the rest of this life. My bones ached as I sat with my back against a wall, cradling a young girl, who was also dying from the same virulent disease. If I’d have had enough energy, tears would have been rolling down my cheeks. Despite all the training and all the practice, my emotions were roiling in my gut again, but this time, I was being lanced with a sadness that joined the virus ravaging my body, and sank into my bones, weighing them down whilst they ached.

I wheezed a few more breaths, ever hopeful someone or something might have come along and saved us, but nothing did. But now, nearing the end, I could feel I was close to the end.

I felt it happen, and I knew where I was going next, my muscles spasmed gently and everything around me felt slow and far away. It was almost as if I sank into the ground as I died. My last thoughts were of the little girl, hoping she had already died before me, so she wasn’t alone.