Sitting on a fallen tree, Cyg spun around a piece of metal that resembled a railroad spike. He watched as another spike fell from a tree, counting the seconds it took to hit the ground. After a dozen or so measurements, he spun around in his seat and tested it. Muffled thuds marked his failures, and after a few minutes, he sighed.

“I’m too dependent on my vision,” he grumbled out loud, wishing he was able to bounce ideas off of Alicia or Merry. “What do you think, tree? Got any bright ideas?”

It was now Friday, and the two were busy tending to the guard. Alicia tried to heal the glimmer snake bite with a new technique, but forcing out all of his mana was more difficult than expected.

He threw down the metal he was holding and went to grab the puzzle box that fell off the log. It was just out of reach, but he stopped himself from just taking a step closer. Closing his eyes, he tried to perform a blind swap with it and some loose dirt nearby. It went through, unsurprisingly, because he knew exactly where it was before he lost sight—so why was it different before? Cyg turned away, and before he tried anything, he discovered an obvious truth: he was struggling because the position was relative to himself, not to the earth nor Sea.

Glancing back, he shot out a bit of mana left of the cube to mark its nearby location. Now with a point of reference, he swapped and succeeded on the first try, and he felt quite stupid. The thief already used this trick before, when he had to locate bombs in the rain, but it took him this long to codify it into a general solution. Giving the fallen tree a pat with his hand, he told it, “Guess that’s why I’m not a scholar.”

When he’s running and moving around, one single point won’t do. He’ll need at least two to land it on a single axis, that was the absolute minimum. Three it could wobble or curve. He didn’t notice the smile spreading on his face as he solidified his plan.

This might work out after all, he believed, picking up the box. Rotely, he entered the solution for the last side, hearing everything neatly click into place. A thin, jagged line had formed around the box, showing how it would open. Cyg used both of his hands and pulled at both sides, expecting it to pop apart like all of them do, but it didn’t budge. Not even a little bit.

“What the...”

Frowning, he looked over his solutions again, finding nothing incorrect, yet the damn thing wouldn’t give way. He gave it a tap on the side, then another with more vigor, but it yielded nothing.

“You got to be kidding me.”

Dismissing it as a broken piece of junk, he tossed it to the side and went back to work.

* * *

Unlike Cyg, Alicia gained no insight from just closing her eyes. She held “On the Gift of Runes” in her hands, tracing over the cover. Every last indent and groove proved familiar, dredging up the foggy nights spent inside Merry’s study.

As if placed back in time, she could picture it vividly—with a heavy book and a cushion on top of the chair, the little elf could sit and have her elbows reach the desk, allowing her to comfortably write. The moonlight trailed through the windows and mixed with the flickering firelight from the lanterns, all accompanied by the sizzling and smell of burnt wood as she used her engraving pen.

She was there, and it was useless.

To create a domain, one must find their key, their true name in the language of the Gods. When the Sun first descended and the veil grew thin, the first Gift was bestowed. The Outer Sea, despite being meant for no mortal, fell into reach through the attunement of one’s soul. But, what a dreadful thing this was, the Moon bemoaned, that someone could be born deprived of heaven’s grace. It too descended, in front of the Sun and before Man, and granted the second Gift—the words used to deliver prayers into the skies.

To find a key is to encapsulate an entire being. It’s an impossible task for many, and often an experienced soul mage is needed for assistance, but there are a number of rituals to obtain it without external aid. The meditative task Alicia was undergoing was one of them. Yet, this memory that Alicia had found to be so vibrant was not “her”, even if she has spent most of her life being taught by Merry here. It felt so close, yet so far.

She let out a heavy sigh as she opened her eyes, returning to the guest room, to the chair by the bed.

“Now, that was a deep one,” the guard said, leaning on the headboard of the bed. “It’s not a big deal; the lady witch said she could fix me right up, didn’t she? I can’t say I know much about domains, but I do know mages never mastered new tricks fast... and you seem like you have a long life ahead of you.”

He gave a smile of reassurance, one that dragged down her heart like a weighted arrow. Ever since Cyg said his damaged soul proved his theory of how the circle worked, turmoil crept at the edges of Alicia’s mind day and night. Despite freedom being so close, she could only feel guilt overwhelming all else.

“...True,” she replied. She had all the time in the world, but the guard didn’t. For the first time, one of Merry’s victims depended on her actions. With all the other people before, Alicia never stood a chance at saving, but now? Every stalled week and failed attempt meant another soul lost in this house, same person or not. If she were only better in just a single way, perhaps the burden would not feel so heavy.

Rubbing his chin, the man said, “...You’re not going to talk to me, I can tell that much, but how about the boy? You two seem close.”

Frowning just a bit, Alicia mulled over his words. Cyg told her about himself, but that was because she asked. Not a single time did he pry into her life, but she knew it was because he recognized her secrets were sealed as his. “I don’t know if he cares,” she muttered unconsciously, “Besides, it’s my burden to hold.”

And the guard frowned even harder than she had. “Have you thought about not worrying?”

“...What?”

“I heard the way the two of you talked. He’s not going to shrug you off,” he explained, “So don’t think about it. Just go for it.”

“I...” Alicia began to say, trying to find the most diplomatic phrasing, “...think this is a situation that calls for prudence.”

“There’s a piece of advice that always stuck with me—there’s a time for thinking and there’s a time for doing. You think about it, and if nothing gets done, then it’s time to start doing,” he said, “And from the perspective of an outsider, it kinda looks like you were spinning in circles this whole time.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Just a little, she felt the weight lighten. “...I’ll think about it.”

Not now, but maybe later, when the time is right. Whenever that may be.

* * *

Sunday arrived once more, and Cyg stood outside, spinning a metal spike in his hand. Two more hung from a rope at his right side, their blunt ends wooden, and a small sack of bombs and sticks draped across his chest.

Through the open window, Alicia asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to set off a trap?”

“When we’re escaping, we won’t be able to lay out traps in the forest,” he said, half-paying attention. He was holding onto the mana he sent out, preventing it from dissipating or moving.

He considered lining the perimeter with bombs, but it was just delaying the inevitable. Besides, he felt good, that everything was in its rightful place.

“...Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

A minute later, Bassy came bounding into view. The creature slowed as she took stock of the situation, spotting the treat on the ground. Cyg’s thoughts were malicious, she could sense, but there was nothing wrong with the stuffed bird.

Cyg said, “Consider it a courtesy.”

The basilisk tossed it into the air and devoured it in a single bite, not bothering to savor it. He was serious about this.

Bassy tilted her head, as if asking if he really wanted to continue. If he understood the gravity of the situation.

“No more running,” he answered, winding his body before throwing a spike forward.

The basilisk snarled as it dodged it easily, not that it was in any danger—even if it landed, it would’ve bounced off harmlessly. But, when it whiffed, it swapped places with a thin wooden cylinder dropped into the yard. Reading Cyg’s mind, Bassy charged forward at him while he circled around.

With his attention split, the thief slowed his breathing to concentrate. A quick push of his chest plate got him out of the way while he tossed a bomb as a distraction. There was no longer any need to count the seconds, but he still had to react immediately to his mana crossing.

One, two.

Haphazardly, he used two more bombs to maintain their distance.

Three, four, five.

The dance felt like it was taking an eternity. Cyg exhausted half of the stored mana, pushing him away as Bassy chomped down on where he just was. He freed another spike in the same motion and tried to stab it straight into her, but the basilisk swung her tail and sent him rolling.

Six, seven, eight, nine.

He staggered back to his feet, just in time to see her descend on him. The plate kicked in and shot him to the side, but her teeth snagged his arm with a brutal crunch. In that second, there was blood and pain. His momentum ripped him free of his limb, and turning his body, Cyg threw the spike he held—

Ten.

—and he swapped it with the very first one, now moving at terminal velocity. It flew faster than Bassy anticipated, burying itself halfway into her side. Then, his mana bled into the runes engraved inside the wooden part and detonated it, sending the steel entirely through the hide in a small shower of ashen wood and smoke.

The basilisk staggered and spewed out the thief’s arm. She took the hatchling’s threats too lightly and messed up, but it won’t happen again. Grinding her teeth, Bassy shook to ward off the spreading numbness, and she surveyed the area.

Cyg, hissing, stuck his wounded arm through the open window for Alicia to heal.

“Are you alright!?” she asked, fully knowing he wasn’t.

“The plate’s out of mana,” he said while panting, “Also, the arm.”

All she could do was close the wound. “Sorry, this is the best I can do,” she said.

It’s a damn stub now, but it’s better than bleeding all over the place. Even if she had all the time in the world, she’s only gotten as far as rebuilding the forearm and wrist.

“I’ll make do,” he replied, pushing off and freeing the last spike he was holding.

His eyes met with Bassy’s crown, and the tension hung in the air for a second before she started galloping. He pitched it straight ahead and missed wildly, only bothering at all to add speed before swapping.

Rigged on the roof of the house was a simple contraption holding a few dozen crafted sticks up high. A simple pulse of mana would release them one at a time and have another take its place, and below were three gems placed three hand’s widths above the ground, secured with wooden frames, forming a triangle covering where the stick would fall. Gems, he picked, because they were a novel marker. The whole thing was partially inspired by the tripwire setup they believed the house to have had.

As soon as he swapped, the metal spike shot downward from the hold while his mana trailed closely. When it passed the height of the grid, through the triangular gap, the thief felt his mana joining, telling him to swap again before it hit the ground. It was a shockingly reliable way of building speed, good enough to stick something into a basilisk.

Bassy, having discovered all of this from his mind, hounded him without pause. If she could disrupt his concentration at the right time even once, then it would be enough to stop the attack, but the setup allowed for preemptive swaps. It required more concentration to use his Aspect in rapid succession, but that was better than losing the momentum altogether.

The backyard shook as one explosion went off after another, Cyg buying himself more time and space as the basilisk’s movements began to dull. Just as he pulled out the last bomb, he saw Bassy changing course toward the house, smashing through the corner and sloppily rounding to the front. She was trying to destroy the setup.

Surprised it took her this long, Cyg gave chase, dropping the bomb and taking out one of the sticks instead. The basilisk saw he was about to launch another attack and dove back into the house, but she had become sluggish. He used the swap to alter directions midflight, and the spike curved through the air and caught her in the back right as she burst into the study. Bassy’s cry was muffled by the shattering of wood and ruffling of pages, then wholly drowned out by the explosion that buried the spike into her flesh.

She finally fell, and the floorboards creaked and snapped under her weight. Her chest slowly heaved up and down but there was no struggle otherwise, as if she gave up. They had done it. Cautiously, Cyg and Alicia approached the defeated beast.

“Bassy... Sorry about this,” the apprentice said, setting down the buckets nearby.

The concoction contained in the spikes, like before, was composed overwhelmingly of heavy sedatives, but Bassy was yet to be unconscious, only dazed. The creature let out a strained whimper as Alicia drew blood but otherwise did not resist. Meanwhile, Cyg pried apart an opening on the side of the staircase the apprentice had prepared earlier, creating a shortcut to the basement.

As soon as Alicia finished filling the first bucket, Cyg carried it away with his only arm—an annoyingly difficult task to perform without spilling—and brought it down the hole to the spell circle. It was his first time seeing it, even if only the mana source was available. A few bits and pieces jutted out of the dirt, and what little he saw was enough for him to conclude it was far beyond his capabilities.

One bucket went down, then two. Alicia brought down the third, and together they watched as the teardrops refilled one by one.

“Does this mean we’re safe?” Cyg said as the last drop went down. “We can consistently kill Bassy, and we both can reset quickly at any time. There’s nothing that can stop us. And the arm... well, I just got overexcited.”

Pursing her lips, Alicia replied, “But if we leave the domain, we also leave the circle. If anything happens out there...”

He let out a shaky sigh. “We’ll just have to get it right on the first try. Can’t be that hard, right?”

Everything was set up, and all the roadblocks were solved. Now, they only had to follow through.

Alicia’s laugh was hoarse. “Right.” They looked into each other’s eyes with uncertainty, and she asked, “Are we going now?”

“I’m not waiting for Merry again, not after last time,” he replied. His eyes drifted over to the bed in the corner, where the guard was lying unconscious, and Alicia followed his line of sight. Maybe next time.

Then, without ceremony, they ended their lives once more.

— ! —

They both were ripped into the Sea at the same time. It was the same as it always was, an assault of pure noise. They felt the other’s presence even if they weren’t touching, a constant in a tide of chaos. Adrift, drowning in raw mana, they both could hear a familiar voice.

With clarity, it whispered, utterly unmistakably,

“Target the witch.”