“I’ve been catching up on your work with Adam, very impressive stuff,” said Rurth to Stephen, as they had breakfast at their usual table the next day. “It’s a shame there doesn’t seem to be an easy way to copy his mind into the new statues. It would save them centuries of training.”

“Stone doesn’t copy very well,” said Stephen to the master wizard. “But the new statues seem to be learning quickly enough.”

“Yaminite,” Rurth corrected him, with a smile.

“Right, yaminite doesn’t copy very well,” agreed Stephen. “I think I’m ready.”

“For what?” asked the master wizard.

“To die and be resurrected,” said the dimensional traveler.

“That’s a big step,” said the wizard, thoughtfully. “I had a great-grandfather who spent a large chunk of the family fortune on healings and resurrections. It got to be quite annoying to my father and grandfather. After he had a fall from a horse, they went against his wishes and ended up burying him instead of taking his body to be resurrected. Coming back from the dead doesn’t seem as strange to me as I’m sure it does to you.”

“Well, you hit the nail on the head for one of my concerns,” admitted Stephen. “What if, once I’m dead, some or all of the people planning to bring me back have a change of heart.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Rurth. “We’d never betray you.”

“We don’t know what the experience will be when I die,” said Stephen. “We’ve always assumed you’re free of all coercion in my pocket dimension. The ghouls would even attack me here. But maybe it makes you like me better, and you’ll be angry when you’re free of it and decide not to bring me back? Maybe part of the group will decide things are better with me gone and prevent the others from resurrecting me.”

“Maybe it won’t work on me, since we don’t have resurrection magic on Earth,” he continued. “What if Maggard has a secret plan that takes effect when I die. Perhaps my death upsets the plan in some way, and you’re unable to complete the resurrection.”

“Have you discussed this with Isadore at the club?” Rurth asked. “Or Feyrith or Falco?”

“I don’t want word to get out about what we’ve discovered about pocket dimensions after travelers' death,” said Stephen. “Or about the library artifacts or any of Maggard’s magic or technology or whatever you want to call it. Beyond all that, I’m worried about what dying will be like. How painful will it be? Will it traumatize me when I’m resurrected? What will it be like while I’m dead? Maybe an instant will feel like an eternity of suffering….”

“My grandfather could never remember where he’d been or what he’d felt between dying and being resurrected,” offered Rurth.

“That’s fine, but even if I forget about it, it’s not great if something bad happens to me, you know?” the traveler said.

“We all know,” said the wizard seriously. “We’ve seen a lot of death since we met. Most of it seems to be over pretty fast, even if it’s unpleasant while it’s happening. Have you talked to Orlenis about this, or prayed to Sylvoria about it?”

“Orlenis is offended at the idea of strategically committing suicide then being resurrected,” Stephen answered. “Every time I bring it up, he gets angry and tells me blessings from the gods aren’t toys to be played with. 'Bringing someone back from the dead is an expression of the will of the gods, not a stunt for entertainment at a party.' Sylvoria and prayer don’t give any answers. There’s a calm I get from it, like meditation, but I’m not sure exactly how she feels about it. Other than Orlenis telling me that resurrection is especially sacrilegious against her, since death is a part of the natural cycle.”

Rurth said, “All I can do is repeatedly assure you I’ll do everything I can to help you. Whatever your eventual plan is, I’ll assist you in any way I can.”

Stephen toasted the young man with his coffee, then took a gulp. The druids on Earth had captured some agricultural territories, including a coffee plantation. They’d been cultivating new beans in the pocket dimension, but no one other than Stephen was enjoying the fruits of their labor.

***

A week later, discussing the situation with a hierophant at a temple of Edos in Ravenshire, Stephen found the high priest was more concerned with the size of donation he’d be receiving than the details of the resurrection. The dimensional traveler was reassured that this cleric's priorities seemed to be in line with the other hierophant of Edos they’d dealt with in Hopedale, when they'd fought the ghouls.

“And do you have any suggestions on the best way to die?” Stephen asked.

“Our healers have medication for pain relief,” he said absently. “They could administer a large dose of that, nothing to worry about. So, you say you’re willing to pay half in advance. What form would that payment take? We can expect the remainder, in coin, immediately after the resurrection?”

“My man, Rurth here, can go over all that with you,” Stephen said. “If I could talk to one of these healers, I’d like to hear more specific details from them.”

***

“So, you haven’t put any cards in your library artifact?” asked Rurth, two days later.

“Well, a couple of minor things,” said Stephen. “Some simple batteries, a ghoul, and a fast cast damage card. They’re just there to see what happens to them after I… transition. I also put my dimensional travel card in the library.”

“I don’t mean to be flippant, but maybe this isn’t such a big deal,” said the wizard. “People get resurrected all the time in Mecond.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Stephen told Rurth. “And that it’s just the two of us. Blargh has grown on me, but there’s a streak in him that you’re not sure what he’s capable of.” The wizard nodded.

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“I wonder how it’ll affect everyone back in the pocket dimension?” the young man asked.

“And you!” said Stephen. “I guess we’ll find out soon.”

The healers worked around Stephen, preparing him and trying to make him comfortable.

“If this doesn’t work,” he told the wizard. “Try to find another way to bring me back.” Rurth looked him in the eye and said, “I promise.”

Holding the vial he’d been given, the priests and healers chanted in the low candlelight. A feeling of panic welled up in Stephen as he fought a desire to toss the liquid away. He reminded himself of all the reasons he’d decided to do this, offered Rurth a small grin in the low light conditions, then raised the vial to his lips and drained it. His hand shook as the last drop of the bitter liquid ran down his throat. He lay back on the cushioned surface that had been prepared for him.

“I don’t want to die,” he suddenly thought in a panic, and started to struggle to sit up, then blacked out.

***

At that moment, Gorg flew over the Epcier mountain range in his airship. His rough, leather clothing provided scant protection against the cool temperatures of the high altitudes, but his barbarian toughness allowed him to enjoy the small bites on his skin from the frigid air.

Initially dropping off druids, golems, and supplies had irritated him, but he’d grown accustom to life on the airship and enjoyed the vistas and feeling of freedom flying through the mountains had given him. Stephen’s instructions had been clear as well, and he continued following them without complaint.

All the villages they’d discovered had been subjugated, and he was excited to venture further into this fresh new world, but he had been given clear instructions to assist the druids in preparing this territory to be captured by one of the two dimensional travelers.

***

Also at the same time, Avin, with HAL’s cybernetic implants, stood talking to Orlenis and Shomos. The three were midway between Shomos’ hut and a growing factory that HAL was constructing with Avin’s abilities.

“I don’t understand what you’re upset about, this is what we discussed,” HAL said through Avin. “You, studying the natural systems here on Gravewrought from your hut, me building up the technological infrastructure. We deployed at this distance, deliberately, to stay in touch with one another.”

“Yes,” said Shomos, exasperated. “And we both agreed to keep a low profile. Your factory monstrosity is growing out of control and disrupting the natural systems in this area. Beyond the violence you’re inflicting on the land, it makes it impossible for me to study and understand it.”

“I’ve been monitoring Maggard, and he’s sticking to his pocket dimension,” said Avin/HAL. “I check every hour or two. There’s no reason to stay hidden if he’s not active. If you’d prefer an undisturbed section of wilderness, move anywhere you want in this dimension. Just bring some golems with you so we can stay in touch through the network.”

“Move anywhere I want?” asked Shomos, indignantly. “Do you know how much I’ve invested understanding this part of the so-called wilderness?”

“I do,” said HAL. “I’ve incorporated 13 druids in my network. Comparing the magnitude of resources that have been invested in our two ventures, this technology hub exceeds yours by a magnitude of two, conservatively measured.”

“Don’t try to intimidate me with your babbling,” Shomos objected.

Orlenis continued listening to the two, occasionally scanning the sky and the world around them.

***

Blargh and Emilia strode into the new village on Clodor, surrounded by a regiment of cyborg golems, most clay but some stone and with one of Adam’s new living statues.

“Alright, maggots,” shouted Blargh down the main street. “We’re here to inventory your shithole village, and we can do it the easy way or the hard way. Get out on the street and answer our questions, or you’ll make things worse for yourself.”

As the golems spread out and villagers came out on the street looking at the group suspiciously, the former innkeeper said to the pirate captain, “Do you think something is going on with Stephen?”

Captain Blackthorne pursed her lips, then said, “Something is always going on with Stephen. I don’t know him as well as you do, what specifically?”

“It’s hard to put my finger on,” Blargh said. A villager shoved one of the cyborg clay golems, leading to it and the other nearby golems drawing rapiers and pistols on him. As the villager put up his hands in surrender, the golems knocked him to the ground.

“He’s been talking to Orlenis about resurrection quite a bit,” Blargh said. “And he’s been acting like something’s happened, or he’s about to do something. I don’t know.”

“We’ll find out soon enough, I suppose,” she said. Spotting a young face peering out of a second story window, the ‘Iron Wraith’ shouted, “Oi! There’s someone still inside upstairs there,” and pointed to the building. Three golems entered the building she’d indicated.

***

Briarheart rode on a horse, surveying the American southwest he’d been studying. A number of golems followed at a slower pace, carrying provisions and equipment and setting up repeater towers. Occasionally, drones flew overhead, tracking his movement, surveying the land, and keeping the other golems connected to HAL’s planetary network.

The druid had spent time at the Grand Canyon and Death Valley, on Stephen’s recommendation, but was finding random stretches of the desert environment to be more rewarding than the former tourist sites. A raptor screeched overhead as the drone it was attacking dodged out of the way.

It had taken an argument with HAL to prevent the A.I. from enmeshing his horse, but he was glad that he’d prevailed in the end. Patting the horse, he considered where to make camp for the night.

***

Feyrith and Falco sat in The Malachite Club’s dining room, sharing a meal. Clay golems with gloves served the meals and had become a frequent sight in dimensional traveler circles on Stredath. Some of the wealthier, non-traveler citizens of Fortune had acquired non-captured golems and employed them in imitation of the traveler's fashion.

“When was the last time you spoke to Stephen?” asked Falco.

“Quite some time now,” admitted Feyrith. “He was getting into it again with Avin and hunting that Maggard we rescued him from.”

“Didn’t Avin go crazy and run away from some of his club members who were trying to rescue him?” asked Falco.

Feyrith nodded, “That’s the rumor I heard.”

“There’s always a group of travelers who need to burn brighter than the rest of us,” said Falco. “We have incredible lives, surrounded by luxuries, and the opportunity to see vistas beyond the imagination of people living on our home worlds, but some travelers just seem unable to sit back and appreciate it.”

Feyrith shrugged and ate one of the Earth vegetables that had caught on in Stredath. The elf thought it was called an artichoke.

***

Adam was working in his workshop in the former Wizards' Guild in Stephen Crawford pocket dimension. Time was frozen, as it always was when the dimensional traveler was absent. The living statue was paused in the middle of enchanting another of his 'children' as Stephen called them. Having arms and legs had opened up new activities for the statue, which he'd grown to relish.

For the first time without Stephen’s presence, since its creation with the former graduate student’s initial collection of cards, time began to move forward and Adam continued his work.