A wave of heat washed over Demund’s face, along with an intense feeling of dread.
He suddenly felt weak, partly due to his use of mana, but also because of what he had done. The fire had erupted much more powerfully than he had anticipated; he had put too much power into it in a burst of emotion. It wasn’t enough to sear the walls, but at point-blank range, it would be enough to kill someone if they were shot in the face.
He rushed forward—only to find the two unharmed. But between them was a man in a suit and a helmet, holding a hand in front of him as if he had blocked the fireball. He lowered it, beginning to speak in a stern, low voice.
“Unauthorized use of powers will not be tolerated,” he spoke, approaching him. “You will have to come with me.”
What the heck?
There had been no one there a second before. Demund hadn’t felt anyone pass by him either. But here was someone who looked like he was straight out of an action movie, completely unfazed by Demund’s attack. Demund’s instincts told him to run away, but unfortunately, he only had one leg.
“It was self-defense!” he argued, motioning towards his leg and his phone, broken on the ground. “He was the one who used his power first!”
“He will be taken care of, but you will be first,” the man said.
Demund looked toward Edan and Davis with an increasing feeling of anger, but they had fallen to the ground, their bodies limp. The thought that Edan had personal bodyguards left his mind, and he focused on the man again who now stood before him.
“Wait, who are you?” Demund asked. The man took out a badge, showing it briefly before putting it back in.
“The HSS?” Demund gasped.
The Hero’s Security Syndicate was a policing force specifically created for those with powers with officers having the reputation of being ‘modern heroes.’ But they mainly patrolled where crime rates were high, and Demund’s neighborhood was one of the safest. If there were crimes, it was because there were others from outside the town. And unlike normal police, they were specialized and few. But their main job—locating and keeping their eyes on dangerous individuals.
And arresting them if they acted violently.
Am—am I going to be arrested?!
“Sir, there has been a misunderstanding,” Demund said, a chill running down his spine.
“Powers with offensive capabilities able to cause trauma are strictly prohibited in public, especially those that can burn,” the officer said. “Self-defence or not, I ask that you accompany me without resisting.”
“Er—”
But before he could come up with a better argument, he found himself inside of the car that had arrived autonomously, driving towards his house as he was a minor. He found himself sweating a little, though the weather wasn’t warm. Halfway through when he’d regained his composure, he looked around, noticing that something was off.
“How come you didn’t arrest the other two?” he asked, suddenly feeling wary. Was it corruption? He’d heard that Edan’s dad had a lot of power. Or worse?
“Because,” the man said, taking his helmet off, “I don’t need the other two.”
Demund’s eyes widened in both confusion and relief—but mostly confusion. It was so sudden; after weeks of silence, he hadn’t expected to get contacted like this.
“Deion?”
Deion nodded with a smile, though his eyes were less cheery. “It’s been a long time, Demund. I was hoping not to meet like this, but it looks like you committed a crime.”
Demund’s relief quickly faded away. “A crime? It was self-defense. If you were nearby, you would know.”
“I wasn’t nearby,” Deion told him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come across as condemning. But it was dangerous, what you did back there.”
Demund scratched his cheek. “I regret it. But he was beating up Davis.”
“Your friend?”
“Something like that.”
“They will be taken care of as well,” Deion told him, “but you are more important. You are aware of what the HSS does, correct?”
“Yes.” Demund raised an eyebrow. “You were spying on me?”
“If you put it badly, yes. I’d like to call it ‘keeping an eye out for potential heroes of the future.’”
Potential hero. That was a phrase that Demund liked straight away. He’d always wanted to be a hero.
“But,” Deion continued, “it looks like I have to do more than simply watch. You attempted to use your power to harm someone, even if it was in self-defense. Your offensive capabilities—”
Deion glanced over his tablet, “haven’t been registered.”
“I thought I didn’t have to report changes until I graduated.”
“Normally, yes. But that is why you are an exception. A dangerous one.”
Demund gulped. “So…what now?”
“I will have to talk with your parents first,” Deion said. “There’s no need to rush things.”
Demund felt a lump inside of his chest. Why was it that every time he tried to do something positive, things turned out badly? It was never a satisfying ending for him. Deion had nominated him for something before, but because of what he’d done today, would he be removed from it? Or go to jail? Truthfully, Demund looked forward to the future. He had the contacts of various people, a likely scholarship to the Preliminary Islands, and the growth of his powers. Because of Deion, he had been excited for some time, wondering when he would be called to join their group, whatever they did.
And Deion was part of the HSS. That was cooler than he’d expected. He’d only graduated last year, and already, he was an officer. And yet, here he was—taking him to his parents for the wrong he had committed.
“Don’t be too glum,” Deion said casually. “If things are good, you’ll only have to leave the school.”
“Leave the school?”
“That is the best case. Worst case—I’ll leave it up to your imagination.”
The best case was him being kicked out of the school. Demund groaned internally, feeling sick in the stomach. He’d decided not to play hero, and here he was, about to be expelled. He’d become too cocky since his other self had succeeded. They weren’t the same. In the real world, he was merely an imitation.
He saw the one side of Deion’s lips slightly curled up as if amused. Was he joking? But they weren’t that close to share jokes, were they? His eyes were as stern as they were before. They inspected him from time to time, and Demund tried to keep his eyes on the window, looking at the scenery.
“I left my bike,” he muttered. “And my leg and my phone.”
Deion didn’t reply.
“Keep your back straight,” Deion told him when they arrived at his house. “Your parents wouldn’t want to see you as a guilty criminal.”
With a small, nervous snort, Demund put on a neutral face and opened the door to his house, hopping as he did. Deion made no attempt to help him. His attitude felt so strikingly different that Demund wasn’t sure how to react.
“I’m home,” he called after taking off his shoes. Or shoe, since his other shoe was still on his missing leg. So many inconveniences. He wouldn’t be able to ride his bike for a while. After following Deion’s instruction to leave his broken leg in the car, they went to the front door of his house.
“Welcome home—Demund, where is your leg? And this person is?” his mom asked after seeing Deion enter after him.
“He’s Deion. And he’s, erm, well, the thing is—”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Deion said with a kind smile, putting his hand out for a handshake. “I’m here to talk about your son’s future. Demund’s leg got a little dirty today during PE. We accidentally left it at school.”
“Oh, I see. Dirty? But come right in! You must be a teacher.”
“Yes, of sorts.”
His mother’s cheerful attitude made Demund’s discomfort even worse. He weakly followed them to the dinner table where he sat down next to Deion. His mother brought some juice for them to drink and sat down opposite them.
“Shouldn’t you sit next to your mother?” Deion said quietly before his mom arrived. So he switched seats quickly. He wasn’t a prisoner. Not yet.
“I am Instant from the HSS, but you can call me Deion,” Deion said, placing his identification card on the table. Looking at it again made him realize why he hadn’t recognized Deion; the name was different. A codename probably.
“The HSS?” Demund’s mother gasped.
“Yes. Unfortunately, it has been deemed that your son’s behavior has been unsuitable as of late and may result in destructive behavior.”
His mother gasped again. “Demund?” She looked at him. He shook his head anxiously.
“Fortunately, as he has shown good character, the HSS would like to make a proposition,” Deion added, taking out a large envelope. “Please, take a look. It would be good for both parents to consider this proposition.”
“My dad is at work,” Demund said. “He will come home by dinner.”
“Of course. There is no need to rush.”
Inside the envelope were some sheets of paper that looked like a contract form. The top was labeled, ‘Temporary Student Program” with a brief summary underneath it. Demund peeked at the document while his mother read it, and suddenly, he didn’t feel as anxious.
“A student at the Islands?” his mother read, squinting. “To prevent potential accidents, the program was created to better help students understand and control their powers. The program may range from a few weeks to until graduation…”
Demund’s heart began to thump harder, though this time it was for a different reason. An opportunity? This quickly, and so sudden! He couldn’t believe his luck, though looking at Deion’s unmoving eyes made him rethink his optimism.
He had friends he liked here. Their study group was progressing well with him at the center of it. If he were to leave, it could fall apart. Besides, he’d never heard of students leaving school to go to the Islands.
Actually…Enariss had done it. But that was because she had won the competition. Normal people couldn’t go so easily.
“What do you think, Demund?” his mother asked. “You never did tell us much about your power. I thought it was a minor one?”
Demund twitched. “It was. But I got better at controlling it, and well…yeah.”
He never wanted to tell his parents that he had other parents. That would be very, very strange and awkward.
“Do you want to go? You always wanted to go with Jothan.”
He had. He still wanted to and had strived for it until recently. But he had responsibilities now. The Magic Club was something he wanted to succeed in. Their Viggle channel was growing as well, with viewers in the lower thousands. It wasn’t much, but it made him feel like he was accomplishing things.
The same could be done in the Islands. But that meant that he would be starting over. He’d done that too many times. Others might think that he would’ve gotten used to it, but all it had accomplished was numbing him. New beginnings had once been a symbol of adventure for him, but now…
“Seeing Jothan would be nice,” Demund said, “but I don’t feel like moving yet.”
Deion raised an eyebrow.
A few months, maybe even a month ago, he would have accepted the proposal. Had he run out of motivation? Maybe he wanted to stop trying so hard. He was already busy with schoolwork.
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” Deion stated bluntly. “You are unstable. Should I provide some evidence?”
Demund gripped his fingers under the table. He was threatening to tell his mother about the incident.
“No,” Demund said quickly. “How long will this be, exactly?”
“Until we deem that you are safe to return,” Deion smiled. “Don’t worry, it won’t be long as long as you behave.”
“You speak like my son would do something bad,” his mom said, “but Demund has always been a kind boy.”
“Many parents say the same thing. I’m not saying that your son is dangerous—at least, not yet. But those who possess strong powers have to be taught properly.”
His mother looked worried. Demund felt like he had been caught in a corner. As nicely as Deion was putting it, there was an obvious forcefulness to it.
“It really depends on you, Demund,” his mother said, “but wouldn’t it be better to stay? Are there home lessons available?”
“No, ma’am.”
His mother breathed in deeply before speaking with the faintest shake in her voice. “As you can see, my son has no leg. He was in an accident last year. He was in two accidents. To send him away would be…”
“His safety will be our utmost priority,” Deion promised. “After all, the goal of this program is to protect the students themselves. If powers are used incorrectly, you could easily hurt yourself, you see.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know. My husband and I are powerless. But I remember hearing that powers were, how do I say it—naturally usable?”
“In the beginning, yes. But unpredictable things can happen. This program, after all, is for the select few.”
“I see…”
Demund hated seeing his mother sad. That was another reason not to go. He looked down at his fingers, twiddling them.
“Enariss will be there. If you don’t go, she might die.”
He jolted his head up, staring at Deion. His expression didn’t change.
“Maybe he can go during summer break?” his mother asked calmly.
“Yes, he can, but it is always better to go earlier. Many people regret delaying this, you see. We can go tomorrow if you’d like. Of course, everything will be cost-free with a scholarship, and if Demund shows potential, there will be countless opportunities he will be able to have at the Islands.”
Had his mother not heard what Deion had said?
Demund thought for a moment that he was hallucinating. But Deion looked at him straight in the eyes.
“I only hope that Demund won’t regret his decisions,” he smiled.
“Is—is what you said true?” Demund blurted. “Wait, but how?”
“You are talented. I’ve watched your progress along with a few others. I would like it if all of you become competent adults without any mishaps.”
“And how can I trust you?”
“You will get a notification from the official HSS center by today. The document will be the same as this. I’ve come personally to clear up misunderstandings.”
Demund half-glared at the document. His eyes moved over the words, but none of their meanings went into his brain. His thoughts were on Enariss. Die? Her? Even if a truck hit her, she wouldn’t die. And her father was a ridiculously rich and influential person. Why would she be in danger? Or had she asked for him to come?
He closed his eyes, opening them after a moment of thought. There was only one way to find out.
“I’ll go,” he decided. “How urgent is it?”
“The sooner, the better.”
“Could I have one day to tell my friends? And the school and teachers too.”
“We will notify them even if you don’t.”
“Even my friends?”
Stolen story; please report.
“You may have one day,” Deion said, “but be prepared to leave in the morning the day after tomorrow. I will send you the details. You won’t have to pack. Everything—even underwear—will be provided. But you may bring personal belongings.”
“Wow, that’s convenient.”
“We like to be hospitable.”
“Will you really go, Demund?” his mother asked. “This sudden?”
“I’ll be back within a month, mom,” he told her, glancing at Deion. “Um, right?”
“That is possible,” Deion nodded. “We will not force you to stay.”
“Will you really go?”
Demund looked at his mother. Her wrinkles had increased since he’d lost his leg. When had been the last time since she’d scolded him? He was diligent in his studies and never did anything they hadn’t wanted.
It wouldn’t even be a year. By his experience, a year was very short. He’d be gone and back faster than they would realize.
“I have to,” Demund said. “It’ll be like the Junior’s Advancement. Just a little longer. You don’t have to worry.”
After all, his parents in the other world hadn’t worried that much when he’d left.
“Talk it over with your father first,” his mother told him.
Deion soon left while leaving the papers behind along with his number. It was around dinnertime when his father arrived, and they talked about the matter while eating. Surprisingly, he was more against it than he had expected, frowning as he chewed slowly on his food. For a second, Demund believed that his father wouldn’t allow it, given the look on his face.
“This isn’t forty years ago,” he muttered while looking through the papers. “They can’t take you this suddenly.”
“I agreed to it,” Demund told him.
“You did? What if you hadn’t?”
“Then I wouldn’t go.”
“That’s not what this implies,” his dad grunted, setting the papers down. “They can’t take you because you may display violent tendencies. Your power isn’t that significant.”
“Er, yeah.”
“Demund?”
“You saw the Junior’s Advancement, right?” he said nervously. “My power can make more powers. Kind of. It’s complicated, but it’s growing. Maybe that’s why because I’m showing a lot of potential.”
“Potential…”
They ate in silence for a little while before his father put down his hands audibly on the table.
“Is it dangerous?” he asked.
“Not at all,” Demund answered. Or was it? They wouldn’t put a cripple like him in danger.
“Are you sure you want to go?”
“Yes. I have to. Oh yeah! Jothan is there too right now, and another friend I made.”
“Who is?”
“Enariss.”
“Ah, the girl you ran with every day.”
“Yeah. Dad, I really want to go.”
His father breathed in deeply, sighing heavily through his nose. He seemed to have made a decision.
“If you need to, you may,” he told him, “as long as you promise to be safe. I’ve heard that they treat students harshly there.”
“I’m pretty fit,” Demund smiled.
So it was decided that he would go. With excitement, Demund quickly filled out the forms and sent them to Deion, who told him that he would pick him up the day after tomorrow. Nothing would have to be packed, so Demund didn’t bother to prepare much, instead lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. He would miss a lot of tests, no doubt. But it would work out somehow.
He let his friends know through their group chat. They first believed that he was joking. But after he showed them evidence, they began to panic a little—especially Riley. They decided to talk about it at school because the chats were getting too long, and Demund was about to sleep when a message from Kacy popped up on his computer.
‘You got the offer,’ she wrote. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thanks,’ he wrote back.
‘But I’ve never heard of that program before.’
Demund paused.
‘Things about the Islands aren’t that public, right?’
‘But I would have heard about it,’ she insisted.
Demund didn’t know Kacy that well, but she had made the club with him in hopes of going to the Islands by being noticed by someone higher up. With her being powerless as well—
‘You wanted to go too, right? Sorry about that,’ Demund wrote.
‘No, it’s not about that,’ Kacy replied.
‘?’
She didn’t reply. It was around an hour before she wrote to him again.
‘Okay, so I found something similar to the one you’re being offered,’ she wrote, ‘and apparently, it’s for people who might become villains? It’s from way back too.’
‘Oh, wow,’ Demund replied nervously.
‘But it’s different. I never saw this form before.’
‘No biggie. I’ll be back soon.’
‘The channel won’t work without you. Oh well. Safe trips.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Talk more tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, see you.’
It was a brief chat. But something about the conversation made him think about his situation.
Him? A villain?
Yeah, right. What could he even do with his current self? Become an arsonist, maybe. Besides, the reason why the deal he was being offered was not known was that most people with powerful abilities would already be at the Islands. Powers generally didn’t change. They could become more powerful, but not be as diverse as his. His wasn’t even a power in the first place. He was an aberrant, which was why he had been singled out.
To be fair, it seemed too good to be true. Too convenient, almost. He’d lost the Junior’s Advancement, and now, he would be able to go this easily? It was like a dream come true, though it felt slightly forced.
Ever since Practol’s betrayal, he’d looked at people with more skepticism. A person’s goodwill came at a price. What was Deion expecting of him? The development and reproduction of superpowers?
Even if he was going to be used, it would be beneficial for him. He would be able to get a job if things went well. And he was only being slightly forced because he’d almost burned Edan’s face off.
Yeah, it’ll be fine, he decided before falling asleep.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
His goodbyes ended less dramatically than he had expected. It was just like any other day with the group learning magic together—though truthfully, it felt more like a review session. He would be back soon, after all. It would be an early summer break.
“Are you guys going to continue while I’m gone?” he asked before they separated.
“I want to,” said Rhyne. “We can still practice water magic. You know, making it bigger and stuff. Maybe we can self-study freezing it.”
“We’ll probably do it together,” Riley nodded. “And you guys?”
“I don’t mind,” Kacy said. “We can still film. I think Alina can teach me.”
“I hope so,” Alina sighed. “I’m not too good at it either.”
“Remember to cast the magic through the person’s hand, not just next to it,” Demund reminded. “It’ll feel like swimming through mud, but it’s possible.”
So they all decided to keep meeting though Demund would be gone. It made him feel proud, but sad at the same time. How much would they progress? How many memories would they make without him? While they had been together for some months now, were Riley and Rhyne close enough with Kacy and Alina to keep up the friendly atmosphere? He had been acting as the link, after all.
“I’ll see you guys soon,” Demund smiled before riding off. “Wish me luck.”
“You’re so lucky that you’re skipping tests,” Rhyne groaned. “Come back quickly so we can suffer together.”
“Same,” Riley grinned.
“Tell Jothan I said hi if you see him,” Alina told him. “He hasn’t been writing lately.”
“Be back soon,” Kacy muttered. “We’ll need new content after water.”
He waved goodbye before finally turning his head around to bike away. He still hadn’t gotten his prosthetic leg back, but it was a good thing that he had one emergency leg for these kinds of occasions. It was uncomfortable, but he had heard from Deion that he would get a new one.
What good friends he had. The more time he spent in the other world, the more he appreciated them. Why did they feel so much closer though with so much less time? He couldn’t quite put it into words. But he knew he could rely on his friends when he needed it.
The night was a long one. His eyes didn’t shut as easily as they had done before. He stared at the ceiling, wondering what he’d say to Enariss, wondering what troubles or adventures the Islands might have for him. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was that new places weren’t filled with only fun. More than excitement, worry wracked his mind. The monsters Jothan had mentioned. The concealment of information.
Would he truly be out soon?
Demund hugged his pillow and shut his eyes tightly, calming his mind with mana. Circulating eased everything—even falling asleep. He could instantly feel himself slipping away.
He woke up as Shaden, lying on his bed in the palace. It was a modest room overlooking the city in a tower high above any other. In the past, it had been a prison for those of high rank, namely the princes and princesses of rebellion. Now, it was a comfortable lodging for him.
Stretching, he dressed himself and brushed his hair before closing his eyes. When he opened them, he was in front of the Guardian with a small hum of magic glowing beneath his feet. He allowed his body to float comfortably, sitting cross-legged in the air.
“You seem disturbed,” the dragon said without opening its eyes. “I cannot find a reason.”
“The future,” Shaden sighed.
“Such human worries should not disturb you,” the dragon spoke.
“But I am human?”
The dragon growled a laugh, opening its eyes. “Your mind is human. But you do not have to be restrained by your humanity, having impetus beyond it. Should the seas worry about the fall of rain? Should the ocean grow anxious about running dry?”
The dragon spoke as if he was a force of nature. It had felt good at first, being applauded for his power, but he soon came to realize that the dragon saw his existence fairly bluntly without feeling the need to compliment him. It was merely speaking its thoughts. Why he had worries was a mystery, even foolishness to it.
“At least let me live a century before I try to understand you,” Shaden sighed. “I’m twelve. Let me have my share of worries.”
The dragon closed its eyes.
“Anyways, it’s time for a lesson again,” Shaden announced.
Two portals appeared before the dragon—the entrance and the exit. Shaden placed his hand through it, and it popped out through the other side. The flow of mana was very, very strange around the portal, so strange that he had no idea where to begin.
There weren’t any incantations he could use either. Most teleportation spells were cast through precise inscriptions which he had no idea how to write. He didn’t want to memorize formulas and patterns. That was too boring. He’d succeeded so far without them.
“Even Saiton the Sage implemented inscriptions into his magic,” the dragon snorted. “Even more so for teleportation. To do it by feeling it is absurd.”
“But you can.”
“I’ve had centuries of practice.”
Shaden crossed his arms. Would he genuinely have to learn to use magic by writing it down? But such methods would be useless in the waking world. The magic system that enveloped the planet was nonexistent there.
He spread his mana out into the portal, feeling it interact with the rift in space-time. But when his mana entered the portal, it didn’t feel like his senses moved through with it, but rather reconnected when it came out. The reconnection was instant, so fast that he couldn’t notice it—but the sensation told him otherwise. As a result, he couldn’t feel the inside of the portal. To be fair, there probably wasn’t one.
But then, how would he be able to learn it?
“Argghhhh,” he groaned for the twentieth time. Never had magic been this difficult.
“Would you like to learn how to summon an earthquake?” the dragon offered.
“That’s basically shaking the earth through telekinesis.”
“Yes, but there are more efficient ways to—”
“Teleportation comes first,” Shaden stated. “Explain it to me.”
“So you admit that you cannot do it without my help.”
“I’m not saying that I’m going to take your blood,” Shaden said. “Concepts, Mernos, concepts. Explain it to me with physics and science.”
“Physical laws do not apply to magic.”
“Stop being stubborn. I know you’re thinking that such human ideas are futile. But how else would these—” he pointed at the portals, “exist? We’re in the physical world, not the Spirit Realm.”
“Ah, but these portals are interwoven with the Spirit Realm,” the dragon told him. “How else would objects move so quickly within less than a tenth of a second?”
“That’s what I want you to explain!” Shaden groaned.
“Very well. To understand teleportation, you must first be aware of time.”
After everything it had said, it was bringing physics into the equation. From the looks of it, the dragon was unaware that time was part of physics. Argh, prideful lizard.
“Moving one thing to another place is simple. The problem is time,” the dragon explained. “An object would have to move tremendously quickly to teleport. A simple way of doing this was to envelope the target with stagnation for protection and shoot them across the sky. But this cannot be called teleportation. It is transportation. What you wish for is true teleportation—movement without time.”
Shaden eyed the portals. “And how is that possible?”
“It is quite impossible in the physical realm. But the Spirit Realm has a vague concept of time. Time is not constant, but another controllable element, like fire.”
“Wouldn’t that make the Spirit Realm chaotic?”
“It is why no living thing dares to venture into it,” the dragon agreed. “Yet, the Spirit Realm is vast like the night sky. Where some may be pure chaos, others are controlled by the spirits.”
“Like the places where the elves go after they die.”
“Laventheminye, it is called in the old tongue. But its true name is only known to those who can return from it.”
“The land of the eternal flowers.”
The dragon opened its eyes. “Do you know the language of the spirits?”
Shaden scratched his cheek. “I, uh, you know, it doesn’t matter. But please continue.”
“As there is no constant time in the Spirit Realm, one can traverse through it and emerge instantly. A thousand hours worth of distance can be changed into a second.”
“I…think I’m getting it. Like time, I’m assuming that there is no solid concept of space in the Spirit Realm either. So just like time, a thousand steps can be changed into one.”
“You understand quickly.”
“Wait,” Shaden breathed. “So teleportation is like an interdimensional storage?”
“They are created through the same methods. But they are not the same.”
Something clicked in Shaden’s mind. “So then—I have to open a portal to the Spirit Realm.”
How the heck would he do that? He turned to the dragon for guidance.
“It is impossible for humans,” the dragon said. “To be connected to the Spirit Realm, one must be from the Spirit Realm.”
“And you are?”
“I am a dragon,” the Guardian snorted as if it was an obvious fact.
“Then how are humans able to do it?”
“With the assistance of the spirits,” the dragon said.
Shaden narrowed his eyes. The dragon wasn’t lying. But it wasn’t telling the whole truth.
“A place to travel through in the Spirit Realm,” Shaden muttered. “Tell me exactly how you can do it.”
“As you wish. But with a single drop of my blood—”
“No.”
“The Spirit Realm, in its raw form is chaos itself. Order is created through power. Powerful spirits solidify themselves, and in turn, their environment. They mimic space and time, light and darkness, gasses, liquids, and solids of the material world, creating the world that is familiar to you humans. But truthfully, the majority of the Spirit Realm is not so. The amount of spirits that have tasted the material realm is few. They take on aspects, as such things are clear—but the powerless exist as the energy you call mana. It is impossible to comprehend it if one is not from it.”
“Interesting. I’d love to hear more about it,” Shaden nodded, “but what does that have to do with you? Are you a spirit?”
“My body is physical. I was born into this world.”
“Then how?”
“We are not from the physical realm. We are the great spirits who have emerged to rule, to dominate the races and conquer the earth.”
“Which is why you’ve been hunted into extinction?”
“It is what those before me told me. Not even the greatest of spirits is infallible.”
“Even Naera?”
“The elven goddess? I do not care for such matters.”
Indeed, dragons only cared about themselves.
“But the fact that we can inherently channel our spirit to the Spirit Realm states our connection to it,” the dragon continued. “It is not the wonderful place you imagine it to be. My part is in isolation, far away from any signs of will, surrounded only by the constant swirl of mana. It is empty in a sense. But it is mine, and I expand it with my will. Yet if I loosen my grip, my domain recedes again.”
“A domain, you say?”
“Indeed. A place that is solely mine.”
“Does it not get interfered with by the spirits?”
“Only if I will it. It is not a place but a concept.”
“You are confusing me.”
“Yes; you cannot understand it.” The dragon stared at Shaden with its glowing eyes. “And yet, you, yourself are not from this world.”
He shouldn’t have let that thought slip out the first time they’d bonded. “It’s complicated,” he told the dragon. “But tell me how humans can teleport.”
“The spirits guide them, giving them an ‘area’ that they can use,” the dragon said. “Much like coordinates on a map. Usually, this information is inscribed within a mana crystal for humans to use. With it, they can teleport without further assistance.”
“It sounds a little risky. What if the spirits interfere with the spell?”
“That is why contracts are made. For those purely born from mana, or will, a contract is absolute. Should a spirit lie, it would shake their foothold in the world.”
“Would a contract be binding for you as well?”
“I am physical. I am beyond such things.”
Shaden sighed. All of this talk, and not much about spirits. “Can’t you make me this crystal then?” Shaden asked. “I could use it to teleport.”
He sensed the dragon’s hesitation. “One’s being in the spirit realm is the same as what you humans call the ‘soul,’” the dragon said.
Shaden raised his fist with a smile. “Die now or trust me?”
With a low growl, the dragon reached towards the back, taking out a crystal. There was a soft glow, and after a few seconds, the crystal floated into Shaden’s hands. He inspected it, feeling it with his power.
“How do I use this?” he asked.
“You would need to make engravings or inscriptions, then place the crystal in a suitable location. Cast the magic as you normally would, and you will open the portal.”
“And the exit? I need two crystals, don’t I?”
“How bright,” the dragon muttered, taking out another crystal.
“Wait—you don’t need to.”
Shaden examined the crystal carefully—then a thought came to his mind. His shadow was similar, was it not? While he could feel it inside of him, it wasn’t exactly inside of his body. To test it out, he summoned the shadow. It emerged from his hand, swirling into a ball. He made it retreat, then summoned it again.
He knew he was right. It was inside of him, but not physically. Inside where then?
“You said that the Spirit Realm was made of mana,” Shaden said.
“Naturally.”
“Is that all it is?”
“For the most part—yes.”
“Then what about the mana living things have?” Shaden questioned. “Our mana pools—isn’t that like a miniature Spirit Realm?”
“Is a bowl of water part of the ocean? My water flows within greater waters, but humanity's water is limited. You cannot travel far—or contain much—within a bowl.”
“But that would mean—interdimensional storages would still be possible.”
“If you can open a portal into yourself.”
Shaden rubbed his head. “Could you make the portals again?”
It did. Shaden put a hand through it again, watching it come out from the other side. As expected, he couldn’t feel himself going through the ‘Spirit Realm.’ It was all so very confusing—
That is until he decided to cover his hand in his shadow and shove it through the portal. Suddenly, the shadow he’d placed inside of the Guardian reacted to him, and he felt its presence within the portal.
Or rather, inside of the dragon. It growled softly out of uneasiness.
Something seemed to make sense. The placed shadow was touching his arm, and yet, he could also feel it where the dragon was. Two places at the same time. One was physical, the other was…the Spirit Realm?
“The magic must not be interfered with,” the dragon warned. “You will lose your arm.”
The shadow had automatically latched onto the dragon’s mana, which was part of the Spirit Realm. Now he could tell more clearly. He could feel the magic more clearly.
Shaden took his arm out.
Wait.
Wait!
He summoned his shadow and commanded it to form a circular door before him. Replicating the dragon’s magic, he created the entrance to the portal within the shadow, and the surface of the shadow became smooth like a mirror, responding to his wishes. If he created another one, it would be a simple portal.
But an impossible idea had come to him. Something only possible in his wildest dreams.
He closed his eyes.
Then he felt it.
The connection to his other self.
Pouring every ounce of energy he had, he forced the other side of the portal to open. It was like clawing at a surface of a block of metal, but a small dent formed—after that, it was pushing through with brute force. The distance must have been significant, but he had all of the mana in the world.
The small crack began to open, and a beam of light shined through from the other side.
Shaden’s eyes widened in disbelief.
He saw Demund looking back with eyes as equally as wide as his.