I wake again in a familiar bed. This time I’m alone. The lantern flickers atop my bedside table, the desk still left with a chair half-pulled outward. I stare at the roof for a long time. I couldn’t put weight to how I feel, but it wasn’t pleasant. I let my emotions get the better of me. As usual. “I’m an idiot.” I groan, forcing myself to stand on my feet.

I had no right to make demands. Me being alive is already a luxury that they didn’t have to provide. I owe them my life. I stumble to the door. I pause as I go to open it, however, as I spot the fact that I am not as dressed as I believed. Glancing down at my near-naked form, a tinge of embarrassment fills me.

My mind refuses to ask the questions that come unbidden as I race back inside and sort myself out. I notice a door inside my room this time and upon opening it am greeted with a bathroom. I shower first, the bathroom not much different from one I’d find on Earth. Still a little different, I observe, as a small spark of green flame flashes across the showerhead as I turn it on.

Toothbrushes exist too. As does other cleaning products. Though I won’t ask what any of it is made of. Its swirling colours of blue and black leave too much to the imagination. After scrubbing myself down I check the mirror and fix myself up. My auburn hair is a bit wild but I leave it be.

I notice the strangeness of my eyes. Their natural hazel colour looks different. And as I peer closer I realise why. The colour’s been given depth, like an extra dimension has been drawn inside. I feel pulled towards them as I look into my eyes. With a shake of my head I force my sight away, a little uncomfortable.

After exiting the bathroom I rummage through the drawers until I find a pair of plain white shirt and pants. The texture is smooth and comfortable as I put it on. Similar to silk, but much thicker than what silk usually offers. Before I exit I spy the items I had brought with me. One small, faded coin and a orb-laden necklace. I look at them with surprise, half-expecting to have them confiscated, but pocket them nonetheless.

I open the door and step outside of the room. I’m immediately greeted with a short hallway. The hallway is stone, much like my room, and carved with intricate designs. Shapes and swirls that meant little to me, but were soothing in their own way. The right side of the hallway curves inward as it posits itself up to a large exit, a tower extending above my sight not far from said exit. To the left is straight and narrow as it leads to a wider more open area. Indoors, but filled with flourishing with so much vegetation and greenery it might as well not have been.

A greenhouse I assume. All shades of bright colours, with spots of purple and blue and other hues, weave themselves across vines and grass and moss and bushes and small trees. It goes on like a tiny pocket of nature.

It is in that spark of nature that I see her again. Lady Diabella. Her gaze is distant as her eyes follow the trail of a pink butterfly. Its spotted wings glow, lit up like stars in the night sky. I almost hold my breath as I watch her. An emotional weight surrounds her. It wraps around her like a dense cloak.

Then she turns to me and the moment is broken. “You’re awake.” The tone is an emotionless one. I freeze for a moment upon seeing her appearance again, but force myself to move forward and stand before her. This time I don’t bow. I look into her eyes and try to be as sincere as possible.

“I’m sorry.” I say. I still wanted to run. Scream that she can’t keep me here. But I shoved those baleful emotions away. “You’re right. You’ve given me grace, and I was rude. Can we start again?” It is all I can do. Her eyes observe me for a long minute. As much as I want to pretend I held myself together well, I know I didn’t. And yet, still, she smiled.

“Apology accepted.” It was only two words, but they filled me with relief. “Sit.” Diabella continues, her hands indicate toward a still-forming chair made of grass in front of her own. I watch as it’s woven in front of my eyes. It fascinates me in a way I can’t quite understand. Then her words bring me back to her as I sit down. “I will honour the exchange we made yesterday. That I will help you understand your place here.”

She pauses then, her eyes flickering as she gathers together what she wants to say. “A broad stroke would not help you here. I suppose I should start with something simple. What are you looking for Brand?”

“What am I looking for?” The question confuses me, but she simply nods her head and continues.

“You may have come here unwillingly, but you are part of this world now. Literally. You told me you see a box, did you not? Only natives can see that. It means the world recognises you as one of its own.”

“I…see.” I didn’t. But I try and wrap my head around it. “I sort of see. Does that matter?”

Diabella nods her head firmly again. I watch the way her living side shifts between emotions and thought, and uncanny contrast to the stark and unmoving dead half. It’s hard to adjust. I know she feels my looks. But there is no reproach. Only patience.

“It matters.” Diabella continues. “We have outsiders very rarely. But they are rejected by the world and cannot grow inside of it. You are different for two reasons. That you are made a native, and therefore can grow. And that you cannot go home. Brand, I will be honest. World traveling is not a simple thing.” Her voice softens as she looks at me with a tinge of pity. “Even if you can do it someday, you should expect to know nothing of the place you return to. This is your home now.”

The words are given gently, but no less painful. I didn’t have much. Did I? But I still had friends. Family, even if I no longer saw them. I still cared for Rebecca. But now all that is gone. Hearing that no matter what I do I will never see any of them again hurts. It hurts enough that I have to gather my breath and push it aside. “I get it.” I say softly. “I can’t process that right now. But I get it. Home. I wonder what that would be like.”

Diabella looks at me with sympathy, but her words move both of us past the moment. “You should explore who you are, and what you want to become.” Simple words. But not ones that really say anything until she adds to it. “You have told me of your gifts. I have never heard of this ‘emotion magic’ as I would call it, nor is there a single mention in any of the records I searched through. Mind magic, always, but nothing that takes and commands emotions themselves. Which means this is something next to non-existent for at least the past millennia.”

She draws a breath before continuing. “What I’m saying is I, or rather no-one, can help you learn. Usually there are guidelines, already trodden paths that can help you understand where to go with your magic. You have nothing.” Her words cut short as she lets me process it for a minute before continuing. “I’m trying to give you perspective with this. All magic had to be figured out blindly at some point. It’s not a bad thing. Even if you don’t want to learn magic, that’s okay as well. There is no time limit on my protection. This is a place where you can explore your future Brand. Figure out what you want to do. Whatever that is. This can be home for you as long as you’d like.”

“Thank you.” The words are heartfelt. I have a distinct feeling I was very lucky to be here, and not anywhere else. Abba did not steer me wrong. Magic is still strange to me. Diabella speaks of it as if she talks of water, or the air a person breathes. I don’t quite get it yet. But I remember clearly that black barrier that saved my life. And the twisted pain that came with it. “I don’t know if my magic is a good thing.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Diabella laughs. Much like her voice, it soothes and grates in a gentle rhythm. “Yes, tell the Lich that you question the morality of your magic.” She gestures to herself. I take a second to process what she says. Then I couldn’t help but laugh alongside her, both of us relaxing a little for the first time.

“So you are a Lich,” I emphasise, unable to hold back my curiosity. She goes quiet at those words. A difficult look in her eyes. Just as I felt I’d pushed her too much she answers.

“Yes. And yet not quite. Something…new. Unique.” Her voice is a little rougher then sweet at the words. I can tell, at least a little, that her words of reminisce aren’t of good memories. Then she shakes her head and laughs, a little at herself. “It happened at the time I was most desperate. And, perhaps, the world was desperate. We share that at least.” Her words are gentle this time, no longer holding the sadness of before. Happy even. She smiles at me. A large, genuine one. “It has made me happy for who I am. Something I am immensely lucky to have.”

The act makes me pause, hesitate, and then with difficulty smile back at her. After a brief moment Diabella continues to speak. “I can see you struggle with my looks.” Her eyes are without judgement as she speaks, but guilt still fills me. “I struggled with my looks.” Diabella shrugs her shoulders. Her living hand reaches to touch her face, feeling its shape. “I look monstrous. It’s okay to say it. It’s simply something I have to live with.” There is no sadness in her tone, but I feel for her all the same. And the guilt drives deeper.

Before I have a chance to respond Diabella continues speaking. “You are free to explore anywhere inside the castle. I have libraries you can look at. Other facilities. A pool.” Diabella seems distracted as she’s talking, her eyes getting a faraway look again. “I have somewhere I have to go soon, so we don’t have much time to talk. But if you need anything you can ask Sera.” She indicates to a place off to the side at her words.

As I turn to where she points I see a woman. She is tall, towering over me with her size. Her skin is transcluscent, almost see-through with a pale that you could only attribute to death. Yet it looks real, with a body filled with muscles packed together into a tight and powerful weave. Her eyes lack an iris, appearing like full orbs, a deep purple hue swirling in their depths.

The woman gives off a vibrant sense of power and capability. Clothed in a free-flowing blue dress, with a matching shawl covering her body. It flutters behind her, moving unnaturally at times around her body like a doting daughter. “It is nice to meet you Brand,” Sera greets. Her voice is smooth but forceful, a thick presence filling them that feels innate rather than purposeful like the one that Diabella had given. “I will always be around if you need anything.” After a nod to Diabella, Sera moves away. I realise as she is leaving that she is not walking but floating as her body gets further away. Her feet are completely still as she moves across the room a few inches above the ground.

“If you have any needs, Sera will do her best to help. She grew up as a maid and still tends to this castle the same.” Diabella muses as she watches her leave. Her words grow quieter, sadder. “She’s had a hard time. So please be kind to her.”

“Of course” I answer. “I’m sorry I gave you a bad impression. It’s all been…a lot.”

“I know.” Diabella answers succinctly.

“Can you tell me…” I trail off for a second but Diabella waits patiently for me to speak. “I had a…vine, I would call it. Follow me while I was trying to reach this place. It saved my life. I believe it lives here. Do you know of it?”

“Yes,” Diabella smiles at my words. “And it’s a him. He would love to hear your thanks. Viscount is the great tree outside of our castle. He was once…human. But that part of him is long gone. I won’t say more. His story is for him to tell. You can ask Sera permission to visit him.”

“Thank you.” I say softly. I reach into my pockets and bring out the coin and necklace. “Can I talk to you about these?” I ask.

Diabella eyes them. “You want to know what they do?”

“And if they still work.” I ask.

“The coin works fine,” Diabella answers. “It’s a dimensional space. This one isn’t physical, so it can only hold energy. You mentioned what it did in your story earlier. I’ve never heard of fate energy before, so it must be exceedingly precious, but the item you’re holding is not. They’re quite common.”

“Oh.” I say, looking at the token. “You’d think these things would be hard to make.”

“Hard to make.” Diabella nods. “Also hard to destroy. History is long enough for these things to proliferate everywhere. If you want to give it a try, focus your mind on the item. Your instincts will do the rest.”

Keeping her words in mind, I look at the token. As I trace the engravings on its surface and the thin glow emanating from it, I find my mind drawn to it. It’s familiar and I realise it’s the same feeling I had when I first saw it. This time I focus on that feeling and encourage it.

My mind quickly assimilates with the object and with a sudden shift I find my vision entering a duality of what’s in front of me, and the space inside the token. It’s disconcerting and it takes me a minute to focus as I try to adjust seeing two things at once.

Once I’m able to look properly at the space inside the token I realise it’s empty. Completely dark save for the occasional flash of residual energy. From the energy I used, I have to assume. Having satisfied my curiosity I retreat from the space and find my vision clearing.

I give my head a shake to get some clarity back, looking around with a bit of confusion. “Going from one to two back to one is very weird.” I comment.

“Yes,” Diabella laughs. “It takes some practice. As you can see, the space is now empty. I’d recommend keeping it and using it for yourself”

“Thank you.” I say sincerely. Then I gesture to the necklace. “As I mentioned in the story, Abba told me I can communicate with her through this. Can I?”

“Sort of.” Diabella answers. The right side of her face shifts into a frown and I swallow slightly at the sight, forcing myself to ignore my nausea. “Think of it more as co-ordinates to send a communication to. It won’t be easy, and I can’t do it. You’ll have to research that on your own. We have plenty of books here so maybe some of them can help you.”

“I see.” I say with disappointment. “I thought it wouldn’t be easy.” We sit in silence for a bit while I process everything. After a long moment I look back up at Diabella and incline my head. “Thank you for explaining things to me.”

“Of course.” Diabella smiles. “That is my promise. I’ll try and explain things to you slowly. There is also the library that Sera can show you to. It can clear many of your doubts or concerns.”

“Thank you again.” I say quietly. “I know I haven’t been the best guest. But I’m truly grateful for what you’ve done.”

“You’re welcome,” Diabella says. “Just take it as someone who’s glad to see something living outside of these walls. It has been a long time.” Her words pause then, her eyes considering me. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that you’ve been able to understand me. And that we both, impossibly, speak the same language.”

“Yes. It’s weird that it feels natural to me, and yet isn’t English.” I agree. “But I figured-” I make a wide gesture. “Magic.”

Diabella chuckles at my explanation but shakes her head. “Sort of. As I told you before, the world’s will must have judged your entry and claimed you as its citizen.” One of her hands reaches up and taps at something in front of her. “The blue box. We’re all given a language alongside it, though it isn’t listed. We just call it the common tongue. Given that it has no name. Everyone speaks it as their first language. Even if it wasn’t.” Her eyes cast to me at that. I nod, knowing how natural it feels to speak this common tongue. Disconcertingly natural.

“So…what is this ‘world will’?” I ask. “On Earth, we have stories about it. But nothing real.”

“Think of it as the world’s observer. It is there to guide us along its natural laws, and ensure that the planet will survive. Only world ending calamities or rule breakers tend to draw its eye.” Diabella continues. “It has no ego. Only a sense of self-preservation. You and I are both products of that preservation instinct.” Diabella stands up and picks up the staff by her side. “Anything else you need to ask, talk to Sera. Or wait until you see me again.” She gives me a smile again. A smaller one this time. “I hope you find your stay here comfortable Brand.”

“I hope so too,” I answer quietly. She leaves me to my state, her feet echoing against the ground as she walks away. By the time I gather myself again Diabella is gone, and I find myself alone on the grass-woven chair she gave me. I stare at the pink butterfly that weaves itself through the many flowers in the garden. The need to leave, the feeling of restriction at being unable to, recedes to a dull ache in the back of my mind. I watch the butterfly dance freely.