The roots stretched out, reaching for Jace’s ankles. The little gnarled white roots slithered through the mud like snakes.

Jace scrambled away. He fell back onto the soil and kept pushing himself away. He didn’t stop until he was confident the tree’s roots couldn’t reach him—when the entire sapling was only a silhouette again.

Leaping back to his feet, he shook off his hands. He stood still for a moment, breathing heavily.

“What was that?” he whispered.

There was no response. Holding his arms out in front of him, Jace approached the sapling again—but slowly and carefully. The roots were still visible, and he made sure not to step on them lest they decide to reach up and entangle his feet.

They weren’t moving anymore. On the surface of the soil, they had formed a network of solid lines. Was it supposed to be a picture?

When he narrowed his eyes and squinted, it looked like a map of the body—an anatomy chart. It was human-shaped and twice his height, and entirely two-dimensional. But the longer he looked, it seemed less like a deliberate display of data and more like a hasty sketch. There were no labels at all, but the pathways of the roots reminded him of the routes the Aes took through his body.

“So that’s what you wanted to show me, huh?” he whispered.

Bad idea. Asking that so close to a tree in a world like this? What if it responded? He’d have to have a conversation with a block of wood.

And it’d have been all in his mind—all a vision.

He stood still, staring at the roots. He wasn’t sure how long he stared for. After a few more seconds, four shards of glowing yellow-white crystal surfaced beside the roots. They crawled up through the dirt, emerging like voles from a burrow.

Jace picked one up. It easily fit into the palm of his hand, and it was heavier than it looked. He set it down on top of the root-map’s stomach, mostly out of curiosity, but also because the crystal dragged downward. It wanted to touch the routes.

When it touched the roots, it dissolved. It melted into a puddle of golden dust and sparks, and they washed into the ground, soaking into the earth.

Something inside him changed ever so slightly. His body felt slightly tougher, his muscles more robust, and his skin less fragile. When he shut his eyes and breathed, he felt the Aes flowing through his channels adjusting and shifting, travelling outwards slightly and bolstering his body. But…only slightly.

He looked at each section of the human map. Thicker roots divided it into five sections: stomach and core, chest and arms, legs, head, and lastly, heart. There had been five attributes on the Reader’s display: Strength, Vital, Potency, Resistance, and Agility.

It matched. These were his attributes.

He stared at the head section of the root body, wondering what it would do if he assigned a shard to it. He didn’t know why it called to him more than the others, but it did. He picked up another glowing crystal and set it down on top of the head. Again, it dissolved and bled into the roots.

Jace shut his eyes, but this time, he didn’t sense an immediate change, except for a slight tingle in the back of his neck.

But he wanted to save the rest of the shards until he knew more about what each Attribute did. No sense in distributing the Attributes wrong and messing up his advancement.

Whatever was happening, Jace was certain that the dream was part of his worldjumper…interface, system, or some other term. It might have been a vision, but it was affecting his body.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He turned back to the sapling, hoping for any clues about what it was. The bud that he had touched earlier was still brighter and warmer than the others. But what about the others? The others were a normal, plain shade. He moved to touch one, but before he could reach it, a gust of wind blasted across the soil-y plane of the dream. The sapling shuddered, flinching away from him. At first, he thought it didn’t want him to touch it—until he looked up.

The distant circles of magical script in the sky were crumbling. Everything destabilized, including the ground. In an instant, his eyes wrenched open, and he bolted upright in the cot.

As soon as he caught his breath, he looked out the window. The planet’s first sun peered over the eastern horizon, scattering orange rays over the hills and fields.

It was morning. Early morning, sure, but still morning. Jace pushed himself up off the bed, rolling his shoulders and stretching the crick out of his neck. It was just like that night when he had slept in the stable with the horses—he had been stiff for days afterwards.

Kinfild was still snoring. He’d probably be here for a while longer. Old man.

Jace walked across the room and slipped his boots on. It wasn’t muddy outside, but he still fastened his gaiters on overtop his pants; there was no better place to put them. He snatched up his backpack and pulled it on, then tucked his touque into his backpack.

Tip-toeing out of the room, he let the door fall shut softly behind him, then walked down the hallway. At the end was a set of stairs, which he took down to the first level of the inn. He walked through the tavern, passed the innkeeper, and left the building.

The morning air was cold. He guessed it was late spring or early summer—if this planet even had normal seasons. Candlefolk were emerging from the scattered houses, and they began their daily activities. Gardening, farming, guiding kyborg-drawn wagons, and leading the enormous bees on leashes.

Jace ran out into the field in front of the inn and picked up the bayonet he had lost the night before. The rifle might have been destroyed, but the bayonet still vibrated when he flipped the switch on the hilt.

The tag read: [Basic Whir-blade Bayonet]

He tucked it into his belt, then walked away. There had to be something nearby that could help him—maybe tell him a little more about what he had to do to advance his magic.

Well…Kinfild could, of course, but the man was still sleeping.

Jace chose a trail and started down it. It wound up and down hills, across old cobblestone bridges, and past smaller houses. As he walked, he practiced his breathing patterns—controlling his Aes, pushing it through his core quickly and manifesting his technique card.

He practiced it over and over—without actually crushing the technique card in his grip—until it felt as easy as clicking a pen.

After a few minutes, the second sun peeked above the horizon, and a wide column of smoke rose from just over the next hill.

Curious, Jace de-manifested his technique card, then jogged further down the path. The smoke came from a rickety, single-storey house. The walls were cobblestone, as was its wrap-around porch. A blue flame burned away in a metal stove. Beside it was an angular anvil.

A blacksmith’s forge, then. Jace scoffed. No massive factories or industrial forges?

He was about to stop and turn around when a puff of golden dust swirled into a sheet in front of him. It read: [Subquest available: Investigate Kendine family forge. Reward: 1 Standard Aes Unit].

Getting more Aes was always a good thing.

“Fine, glowy sheets,” he muttered. “You win this time.”

He kept walking toward the forge. There was no one tending to the stove, and the windows were still dark.

He got as close as the trail would let him, then leapt over a fence and prowled through the field. He glanced side-to-side, making sure there was no one waiting in the grass for him. Today didn’t need to start with a fight again.

Stepping up onto the porch, he approached the stove. It didn’t burn any wood or gas, and none of the technology was familiar.

Jace turned in a circle. He identified a vat of quenching oil (it was green, though) and a rack of newly-forged horseshoes.

A glimmer of bright blue colour shone through one of the forge’s windows. He crept toward the pane of glass and peered through it. Strange wares filled the interior of the house—metal shapes he couldn’t recognize or name, but also sculptures of coloured glass.

Along the far wall, though, was what caught his eye. The bright dash of colour belonged to a long blade.

A glass sword.

“That was probably what you wanted me to find, wasn’t it?” Jace asked, cocking his head up slightly. “Glowy sheets? You there?”

The sheets didn’t respond.

“Alright, going inside, then. You better not get me in trouble.”