White mist twisted between my legs, cool to the touch and coaxing me to explore, but the environment was deceptive. No one spent longer than necessary in the Dungeon of Tempus. The closer you looked, the more atrocities you'd witness. A low vibration coursed beneath my bare feet, reminding me to shift. Between one blink and the next, leather boots wrapped up my calves while a pine cloak edged in gold thread unfurled down my back. My unruly hair was forced away from my face using a threaded thorn crown that’d seen years of use, and I owned only three black tunics of high quality, two of which needed mending.

Merlin the Enchanter wore nothing less than refined but never more than necessary. The god carried that concept into every aspect of life. No one person held value over another, even if their mana capacity was larger. Strength came not from force of might, but of restraint and principle.

These were the lessons alchemy students were taught. Not to be kind or empathic, as humans were. As long as we existed in harmony with our fated conduit, alchemists who achieved Rubedo were immortal. That was one of the many conversations I hadn't got around to having with Uri. The prospect of living an eternal life. With a shake of my head, I cast doubts away to focus on the present. There was no time to spare.

I refused curiosity, striding toward my destination so as not to lose sight of The Way. Many first time walkers would, spending days if not over a week in the folds of existence while years dissipated. The pockets between dimensions were not at a stand still. They accelerated time. Some alchemist texts told stories of men missing their children's growth into adulthood by surrendering to false promises echoed within the dungeon. There weren’t any keepers. Breaking through the centuries old barrier beneath the mist built by alchemists and maintained by their predecessors was impossible. Even veins of my mana ran through the hard surface that seemed to be made of glass.

I snapped my fingers and a breeze tore past, blowing my cape forward and clearing the mist. The portal twenty yards away was the same color as the one opened in our living room. Hazard green and swirling like a potion that’d been fed all day long. I paused before stepping through, glancing back. Darkness writhed, curling around the edges of the mark that came with a living vessel—my shadow. I scowled at the wayward soul, raising a brow. There would be no reincarnation for these tormented beings. Not ever, in any world.

“Away,” I commanded.

With one final shiver of protest, the excess shadow slunk off of mine like dripping tar. Mana swirled within the pit of my stomach, aching to be released to punish the soul, but I refrained. Their condemantion was not within my athority. I ducked into the portal, nose wrinkling at the liquid feeling to fast travel. The hallway on the other side was lined with heavy wooden doors enforced with anti-mana iron. Each of them would be locked, but using my neon green mana signature, anything in this realm obeyed me if I demanded it. These store rooms were not my goal, however. I took the stairs leading to the castle’s main floor two at a time. The door at the top opened without me ever touching it, a crimson mana signature burning on the other side. He revealed himself upon closing the heavy wall, refitting it between slates of crownmolding and paintings. A heavy cream curtain fell over the cracks just in case, shielding the passage from prying eyes.

“Roman,” I greeted warmly, clasping our forearms together.

“Master,” he replied, silver eyes smiling with a face set in stone.

A puncture scar spread down the right side from the spiked tail of a Gnome Dragon. Their venom, which slowly turns the victim into stone, damaged the nerves and left him with little function. After defeating the creature, I managed to stop the progression. It’d happened a few years past when we slipped three folds over into the realm of Dracon. That was one of the many mistakes of my lifetime, proving I was no genius of any sort. Having knowledge equated to power, that was all.

Briefly, I tilted my head and closed my eyes, traveling through space to feel Uri twist and turn, most likely feeling sick to his stomach. My lips fell at the corners.

“What do you call me for? My conduit sleeps, but fitfully.”

Roman immediately led the way toward our shared study nearby. When I came to Vivus unannounced we tried to keep it a secret. Too much bureaucratic “red tape” blocked true progress when nobles learned of my presence. Their restlessness was palpable within the mana running in veins of stone beneath my boots. It tinged the energy with static electricity, forcing the hair on my arms to stand on end. The sensation had become constant the moment the edges of this world began to crumble. It was understandable, really. Who wouldn’t be afraid?

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Yet they expressed no fear when speaking to their great patron’s face. Oh no, they showered me with praise and encouragement. Vowing to a table’s length of people how easily I would repair the damage.

I had no news or solutions up my sleeve despite their unwavering faith in me. Add that to my growing list of things to feel guilty about. Everyone around me thought I was doing well. Succeeding in research, holding a realm together by the skin of my teeth, and stealing mana from my conduit in secret to sustain it all?

There was something ironic about being a god who could only do or be the bare minimum in any given situation.

I sighed.

“Master?”

With a glance, I focused on Roman holding the door open patiently, no hint of annoyance in his tone. I chide myself for spacing out while speed walking into the room toward my desk. It was organized chaos; papers strewn all over with no rhyme or reason, ink bottles used as weights, and quills from various species across the multiverse for each thought. If I sat down to work I would instinctive begin, knowing where the progress stopped.

The bookshelf behind my worn-in leather chair was worse, crammed for space and an eyesore. Roman was quite minimalistic in comparison. He had a few books stacked here and there between thriving ferndale plants which lived with as much consciousness as humans. The vines moved with the sun and swayed to music while acting as guard dogs, attacking anyone who dared poke around Roman’s desk without permission with noxious fumes. These put the criminal to sleep, making them easy to apprehend.

One of the many wicked ideas he came up with to keep the realm safe without appearing on guard. Instead of sitting down, I turned back toward Roman and leaned against the lip of my hickory desk.

“Has the atrophy progressed?”

Roman came forward and knelt, head down. “Yes, it has. Eastern Aes was lost early this morning. There was nothing I could do to stop it no matter the action. I apologize.”

My heart squeezed, leaving me short of breath. “How many lost?”

Roman looked up. “Twenty two hundred.”

If I weren’t already leaning against the desk I might’ve staggered. “Shit. I should’ve felt that, right? They’re projections of my mana which became a true source of life, but…”

I trailed off, fighting the urge to keep rambling, fingers shaking. There were many faces hanging in my closet, and here, I wore Merlin the Enchanter, creator and patron god of Vivus. I couldn’t afford to show weakness to anyone but Roman, my knight sworn to secrecy. It was the same as admitting defeat.

To this day I cursed eight-year-old me for being so arrogant. In order to find my fated conduit, a living source of mana to fuel an alchemist's realm and power, I had to learn realm walking. That started with realm creation and continuing my alchemy education alone after my parent’s passed. It took over a month to form a rift, let alone a realm. Solitude was my curse for seven months, but so was uncontrable growth as an alchemist. The surge of mana warpped my mind, speeding up my evolution. I closed my eyes, shaking off the memories this place forced upon me. Most of my time was spent elsewhere now, leaving echoes of a distant past in my place. I rubbed circles into my temples.

Roman rose from his position, grasping my shoulders and forcing them up straight, looking me in the eye. “You are strong, Master, but your conduit is stronger. You must seduce him.”

“What?!”

The shout was too loud in the silent chamber, echoing from one wall to the other, Roman’s stunned expression almost comical. My chest rose and fell rapidly, and I ignored the feeling of heat splashed across my cheeks, looking away.

“If you prefer females, that’s fine. Your conduit can be your greatest confidant while we build you a harem. There are plenty of women willing. Do you remember Lady Pala from the recent—”

I silenced him by shrugging out of his hold to pace. “I’m not worried about the state of my sex life right now, Roman. ”

He bowed, white braid flopping forward and eyes squeezed shut. “I understand and apologize, Master. What ails you?”

I stopped in front of the rose window overlooking the grounds. There wasn’t a soul out there beneath the moon and I felt a deep longing to go and soak in the quiet.

“The loss of life, what it means for those souls. Are they truly real? Can I bring them back with the help of my conduit, or are they forever gone? But these are questions no one living or dead can answer, Roman. And, as an alchemist, asking questions I know have no resolution makes me a coward.”

Roman was quick to refute me, voice full of conviction. “You are anything but a coward. The souls of Vivus wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for your mana. To live they leave you to die. You are their patron god, Merlin the Enchanter. Rise up to your own potential, hone it with pride and certainty, and you will succeed.”

Some of the dispair lifted from my shoulders, and I looked back at my knight with gratitude. "Ony time will tell. The Way flows relentlessly fast, Roman. I can't keep up."

"Perhaps even the gods cannot control fate, then."

I huffed a laugh. "Truer words have never been said."