Void wraps around us, and all light vanishes from the world. I pull the magic tighter, squeezing not us but space itself. The darkness collapses in. There’s an inflection point—a tipping—and I feel the two separate points in the spell connect like magnets snapping together.
The roar of the wave vanishes. My soul lurches as I fall—Zyneth and I are both falling—but it only lasts for a fraction of a second. We hit the ground with a metal clang, a rush of water splashing around us, and all my glass crashes to the ground in a broken heap nearby.
[Spell complete.]
The void wilts around us, ebbing into the floor as light surrounds us once more.
We’re in the Prismatic. I did it. We made it. We’re alive.
Zyneth falls back with a heavy exhale, still weakly clutching me on top of his chest. The puddle of water on the floor beneath him is swirling with threads of pink and red.
“Zyneth?” I Check his HP: 18. “Zyneth, stay awake!”
“I’m awake,” he mutters, eyes closed.
I wiggle myself out of his grasp, and he lets me. “We can’t rest now—we have to get you somewhere safe! Somewhere secure. The water—”
Even as I say it, an impact slams into the ship, and I’m suddenly airborne. I call my glass and void to me with a lurch of panic. The void gets there first (which is probably for the best, given the un-gentle nature of glass), catching me and staying my fall. A distant screech of metal on stone reverberates through the ship’s hull as the water drags the Prismatic over the ground. I have the void set me down, but still hold on to keep me upright and grounded.
The impact rolled Zyneth onto his side, and he’s making no attempts to roll back. From here I can see the half a dozen pieces of glass impaled in him—I can feel them in him—but I don’t dare take them out. Not with his HP so low.
[HP: 15/150]
Every time I blink it’s lower than before. This isn’t good!
The ship rocks again, and Zyneth threatens to roll over onto his chest—onto the shards of glass. I lunge forward with my magic, catching him with a claw of void. It’s massive, covering his whole chest in shadows, but it stops him from moving. Zyneth doesn’t react.
“Zyneth? Zyneth!” No no no, not when we’ve made it back to safety. It can’t end like this.
I can’t kill someone else. Especially not him.
Echo, what can I do? I ask, desperate. Are there any healing spells I can learn? Please, anything!
[Negative,] Echo says. [Healing type magic is incompatible with your class.]
Why didn’t I pick healer? Why’d I have to pick a stupid wizard?
[HP: 14/150]
No healing spells. No healer. What else can I do? What else do I have?
My soul lurches. I don’t have anything—but Zyneth does. All those charms and spells he’d purchased in preparation for the trip—there was a healing potion in there, I’m certain of it.
I’m already racing for the door. I leave more of my void behind, keeping Zyneth pinned to the ground to try to keep him from moving while the ship continues to be buffeted by the rising sea-level. I hope it’ll be enough.
As my glass and void sweeps me out the door and through the ship, I realize I’m still able to keep a hold on the void I’ve left behind. Did I level up again? No, even that wouldn’t account for such a huge increase in my range. It’s the predator; it’s helping me.
Summoning all my courage, I finally let myself Check the predator’s influence.
[Predator Influence: 50%]
The number chills me. Our minds are equally powerful now, which means it could take over without any warning. I’d be able to fight it off—eventually. But then, the same thing could be said for it.
Yet, it’s not doing anything. It’s lending me its power, and I’m not making it do that or fighting it for it. Cautiously, even as I race for our quarters, I mentally turn my attention on the predator.
It’s… fighting isn’t the right word. It’s in some sort of discourse with itself. Even looking at the predator, I feel like I’m seeing three versions of itself at once. Each slightly different copies of the same mind.
Something like this happened before, when the predator was able to pull some of itself from my inventory. It was like there were two versions: the version I had come to an uneasy truce with, and the newer version that had just come out of the inventory. They’d shared the same mind, the same goals, the same disposition up until they’d first become split: Then the fraction of the predator that had lived with me—the one I agreed not to Attune, the one confined inside a bottle, the one that helped me break into the library—had changed, in the subtlest of ways. At the very least, it had gained new memories and experiences while the rest of it remained inside my inventory. And then when more of it had emerged, the two versions of itself found they were no longer entirely identical. The new piece had to learn from the old one. And what emerged was something slightly different from both.
The same thing is happening again now. This new piece of the predator is conversing with its other selves, absorbing the memories and experiences of its previous versions as it merges into one new identity.
Maybe it understands that helping me is better for both of us. Or maybe it’s just too preoccupied with more important matters to pay me any mind. Whatever the case, I need its superior control of the void as long as possible if I want to keep Zyneth alive.
In our quarters, I find Zyneth’s bag. I hastily slice it open with claws of glass and shadow, spilling its contents onto the floor. A faintly glowing bottle of blue-white light rolls across the deck. There! I snatch it up and rush back to the cargo bay, desperately hoping I’m not too late.
He’s still lying where we left him.
[HP: 10/150]
“Zyneth!” I gently try to settle him on his back. “You’re going to be okay. We have a health potion. You’ll be okay.”
I try to remove the potion’s stopper and struggle with the cork for a horrific, laughable moment. A cork? A cork is what’s going to thwart me? Then I dig the void in and rip the stopper away. A few drops of the potion spill and I freeze, carefully steadying the bottle.
“Can you drink?” I tip it up to his mouth. He’s supposed to drink it, right? That’s what they do in games and TV shows. A few drops drip between his parted lips, and I wait.
[HP: 10/150]
Nothing’s happening. It’s not going up or down. I pour a little more into his mouth. The glow vanishes down his throat—then Zyneth jerks, and starts coughing.
“Zyneth!” I pull the potion away so he can’t knock it out of my grasp with his spasms. “Are you awake? Are you okay? Can you talk?”
[HP: 10/150]
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
His eyes open, tears pricking at the corners as he takes a shaky breath. He looks at the potion I’m holding and gestures it over. I move the bottle toward his mouth, but he shakes his head and grabs it before I can pour more in.
“Glass,” he rasps to me, coughing again as he tries to speak. He taps at his arm, where one of my shards is protruding from his skin, crusted with crimson blood.
“What?” I ask. “You want me to pull it out?”
He nods.
“But that’ll cause more bleeding,” I say. “And your health…”
“Remove it,” Zyneth says, gritting his teeth. “Now.”
I don’t like it, but I know better than to argue. Cringing in anticipation, I yank the glass out of him as quickly as I can.
Zyneth growls between clenched teeth, splashing some of the potion over the wound. The liquid evaporates almost immediately as the magic sinks into his torn skin. And slowly, it knits itself back together.
[HP: 12/150]
Relief floods through me as Zyneth lets his head fall back to the ground and he pants heavily for a few moments. His health is going up. He’s going to be okay.
Finally, after he composes himself, he tips his head in my direction. “All that trouble to avoid the ocean, and you try to drown me?”
I want to laugh and cry, but since I can do neither, I do my best to look ashamed. “I thought you had to drink it.”
“Drink it?” he repeats. “I suppose you’d suggest I drink burn ointment as well.” He smiles faintly. “It’s almost as though you’ve never used a healing potion before.”
“Would you believe it?” I say.
He chuckles, and it turns into a wince.
As Zyneth steels himself for me to remove the next piece, I sag to the ground, everything catching up to me all at once. Earth, my body, the predator, those souls. It’s a lot for me to sort through, and I haven’t had a second to process any of it. But Zyneth… At least Zyneth will be alright.
----------------------------------------
The Prismatic rocks as it’s carried away by the ocean currents, aimlessly adrift. Most of the null arcana was removed from the surrounding waters when I activated the air bubble spells, and we’ll just have to hope we’re long gone by the time much more of the magic accumulates. The ship’s designed to avoid the stuff, but without Gillow here, it’s hard to say how much oversight the Prismatic needs to operate properly. There’s not much we can do about it but hope luck is on our side.
Occasionally the jolt of some collision vibrates through the ship, but I don’t leave Zyneth’s side until his health creeps back up to a safe level. Even with his fractured foot healed and all the bleeding wounds closed, his HP still hovers around 75/150. I guess there’s more under the surface that will just take time, but for now, I can live with it.
Once he’s capable of walking again, we make our way back to the bridge. Zyneth sits heavily in the captain’s chair, working through the controls as I dump all my worldly belongings (that is, tattered clothes and a giant pile of broken glass) nearby. And of course, all the void.
More void than I’d had before, but it’s not as much void as when the predator had been in control. Not to mention, its mind then had been overwhelming.
Echo, what was the Predator Influence after we came out of the Between earlier?
[Although the Predator Influence stat fluctuated in that timeframe, the average value was 99.63%]
Shit. I really didn’t stand a fighting chance. What happened to it? Where did all that void go—and the predator’s mind? Why is the influence less now?
[Unknown,] Echo says.
Well that’s not terribly useful. Did the containment cube explosion kill it? I ask.
[Negative.]
Is it back Between?
[Negative.]
Is it in my Inventory again?
[Negative. Inventory: 1/1. Contents: a rock.]
Then where? I ask, exasperated.
[Unknown,] Echo repeats. [This unit was unable to access the user for a duration of time while the nature of the entity designated predator interfered with the connection. After connection was reestablished, the quantity of void and Predator Influence was reduced.]
I inwardly grimace. I guess I should be glad that it’s gone, but not knowing how or where it went is concerning. What if it comes back someday? Would I have any warning?
Then again, I’ve plenty of other more immediate problems to be concerned with at the moment.
The ship hums, streaks of light illuminating its magic circuits, as its list straightens out and comes under Zyneth’s control.
“That should do it for now,” he says with a sigh. “I don’t know how to get us back to Miasmere, but I can at least point us toward the west. We’ll intersect land eventually.”
“Will you have enough food and water?” I ask.
“And air,” he adds. “Yes, I believe so. There was enough on board for Gillow and I when we first departed, and now that it’s just me, it should be enough to cover however long it takes to reach shore.”
I feel like he should be more worried about the fact that we’re lost at sea and only have an inkling of an idea how to control the ship. Not to mention the monster infested waters we had to fight our way through just to get here.
Maybe he just doesn’t have enough energy to worry about all that right now.
As the Prismatic slowly turns, the shadows of Emrox floating by the window like phantoms, Zyneth pushes himself back and turns to me. He watches me for several moments in silence.
“Um,” I say.
“Sorry,” he says, rubbing his temple. “It’s just with everything that just happened—everything you just went through—I don’t know where to start.”
I don’t either. I awkwardly shuffle my glass around, sifting through the pieces as if I could begin fixing the puzzle of my broken body. I Check my mana: 0, of course. I guess this new version of the predator has decided our previous agreement is null and has gone right back to sucking up all my excess mana again. That’s going to be a problem if I want to use any spells. Because I will need to use more spells eventually, won’t I? I’m stuck here.
I’m never going home.
“My body is gone,” I say. “Earth is gone.” Voicing it out loud makes it more real than it had ever felt before this moment. Somehow, I’d felt it in my soul all this time. But seeing my own grave, knowing for certain, it fills me with a heavy grief. Yet, at the same time, relief. There’s a finality now that wasn’t there before. That queasy uncertainty has been washed away. I just feel… tired. Worn.
“I’m sorry,” Zyneth says. “Maybe there’s another way—”
“No,” I say. I don’t know if I can live through getting my hopes up again, just for them to be shattered a second time. “No. The spell circle is destroyed.” I tap my way over to the window, looking down into the murk. Even as we begin to leave it in our wake, I can make out the ruins of the arena, the stone circle that had been inscribed there buried and broken.
I might be able to recreate it, in time. If the predator worked with me. If I grew powerful enough. “But you know,” I say. “Even if I had another chance, I don’t think I’d take it. Without my body, what would I be returning to? What I really want is to just move on.”
I turn to look at Zyneth. “I’m sorry. I’ve been such a fool. This journey was cursed from the start and I dragged you into it. You were right. I was just using the predator as an excuse to try to rush into a solution for my body. And now the predator’s stronger than before. I’ve been selfish and bullheaded and it nearly got you killed.”
And that hurts me the most. Worse than the loss of my body.
He shakes his head. “I understand why you did what you did. And yes, you may have let your emotions drive you. But who wouldn’t act the same in such circumstances? Besides, at the end of the day, we’re alive, we’re together, and that’s what counts, isn’t it?”
He smiles fondly, and I’m filled with affection. For the first time, I don’t try to stomp those feelings out.
“I’m going to get both of us out of here,” I promise. “I’m going to make sure we make it back to land in one piece.”
He chuckles. “Glad I have you here to protect me.”
He says it as a joke, but his words fill me with a fierce protectiveness. There’s monsters before us, destruction behind us, and Zyneth will be counting on me to get us out of here alive. I’m the only one who can leave this ship and fight off whatever comes our way.
And I will. I’ll protect him with my life.
“And when we get back to land?” he asks. When, not if.
“The souls.” The memories make me shiver. I can’t get the image out of my head of all those Earth souls that fell through the hole in reality while the predator held it open. They were the souls of the dead. People who’d died and were meant to pass through Between and into… whatever comes after that. But instead I was there to stop them.
Just like what Trenevalt did to me.
“I have to find them,” I say.
“Find who?” Zyneth asks.
“The souls,” I repeat, guilt resurfacing once more. “It’s my fault. If I’d never come here—if I’d never tried to get my body back or go home—they never would have fallen through. And I—the predator still managed to kill two of them. I couldn’t save them. But I can help the rest.”
Zyneth shakes his head. “Slow down. I’m not following. Those lights the predator had—those were souls? And you think they’re somewhere in this world now? Assuming that is true, without anything to keep them anchored, they should have just blinked back into the Between and moved onto the afterlife on their own.”
I suppose he’s right. I’m only stuck here because Trenevalt’s magic bound me to this bottle.
But I know that’s not the end of it. Something else happened to these souls. When they passed through my spell, through my Attuned void, through the predator’s ethereal body, I felt… something. And I still feel it, distantly.
Echo? I ask. Can you shed any light? Do you know where those souls are now?
[Negative,] Echo says. [The spatial displacements of the souls are unknown to this unit. However, the nature of the spell they interacted with—intending to seek out a body—coupled with the nature of the abundant null magic they passed through—the most powerful arcana that can be used for soul bonding—indicates they will have or are currently in the process of locating and binding to a new compatible vessel.]
I slump. I was right, then. I really did just pull a Trenevalt—only a hundred times over. Two hundred, maybe.
“They’re out there,” I tell Zyneth, my resolve crystalizing. Since I did this to them, it’s my job to fix it. I won’t be able to send them home, but maybe I can at least help them avoid going through what I experienced. They might be in a strange, new world, but they don’t have to do it alone.
“I don’t know where,” I say, “and I don’t know how, but I’ll find them.”