Realm 41 was a stark contrast to 376. Where 376 had been abandoned, overgrown with nature, 41 bustled with life. More than a few heads turned in Two’s direction as he landed on the soft grass, the blades rippling in the wind. He heard some murmurs, taking in the native residents dressed in flowing robes. Store vendors poked their heads out from their stands, giggling children paused their games to stare at him with wide eyes. Two waved good naturedly and directed his attention back down to the letter, eyeing the address again.

The immortal stepped forward, aware of a few gasps as folks scrambled to move away from him, but he ignored them. Two glanced around, squinting at the distant wooden street sign. Once he’d positioned himself, he turned away and began walking in the opposite direction of the town. He was relieved to leave the place behind. He’d never been particularly good with crowds.

Two’s destination turned out to be a long, flat wooden building on the outskirts of the town. It stood slightly elevated atop a grassy hill, and a raised porch circled around its walls.

The blue sky above was rich and deep, dotted with swirling white clouds. Two inhaled the crisp air as he made his way up the dirt path, attempting to get the stench of smoke out of his lungs. He could still feel ash on his skin and caked on his clothes. No matter how long he washed, he knew he would never be able to get rid of the feeling. He would never stop trailing ash behind him.

Two came to a stop in front of the home’s front door. The wooden double doors had been painted a red that must have been bright at one point, but the years had chipped it away into a muted, dull shade.

Raising his hand, the immortal knocked and waited for a response.

The person who answered, however, wasn’t the one he’d expected.

Two blinked down at a scowling boy, probably on the cusp of adulthood, with gangly, awkward limbs that he hadn’t fully grown into yet. The boy was barefoot and looked like he’d been training just before this, if his sweaty clothes were any indication, and his dark brown eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

“Who’re you?”

He spoke harshly. Two just stared, and this only made the boy frown even harder. He stomped his foot in frustration, an action that struck Two as almost refreshingly childish.

“I asked who you were!” The boy huffed and crouched down, raising his fists in what Two realized was supposed to be a fighting stance. It was unbalanced and awkward, his entire left side wide open. “If you’re here to make trouble, I’ll beat you up!”

Two felt an amused laugh bubble up his throat. Before he had a chance to respond properly, however, a second set of footsteps sounded from deeper within the building. Soon, a tall woman with long dark hair appeared, one eyebrow raised.

“I see you haven’t learned a thing about manners.”

The boy bristled. He jabbed a finger in Two’s direction. “What do you expect? This guy’s stupid suspicious!”

This time Two didn’t bother to hold in his laugh, and the woman hummed, her own gaze sweeping over him and lingering particularly long on the bits of ash clinging to his coat. Her nose wrinkled.

“You could’ve dusted yourself off first. You’re ruining my floor.”

The boy nodded in smug agreement, but the expression quickly went away when the woman turned to him next.

“Shouldn’t you be training?”

“Uh, well, I—”

The woman leveled the boy with a look, and he instantly turned around and disappeared down the hall, grumbling all the while. Two watched with amusement.

“He’s awfully spirited,” he said. The woman snorted and shook her head.

“Too spirited.” Her gaze shifted over to the immortal, keen eyes studying him. “I heard you were promoted to Two.”

“I was.” Promoted never felt like the right word. If anything, it made his skin crawl to think of it, but it was technically true. “It’s been a long time, Lin.”

“Quite.” The woman turned, gesturing with a flick of her wrist for the other immortal to follow. “We can speak in the dining room. I have wards set up, so you needn’t worry about my apprentice overhearing.”

Two nodded, and he stepped into the home, the door creaking shut behind him.

—

The dining room was a small, quaint thing. The wooden table stood against a tall window, sunlight flowing freely through the glass. Two noted a much longer table shoved away in the corner of the room, its surface collecting dust. The chairs, too, had been removed and likely stored somewhere else.

The clinking of a cup caught Two’s attention, and he looked over to see Lin setting a teacup down in front of him. Compared to Silas’s concoction, the contents looked much more normal, and Two didn’t hesitate to give it a sip.

“You arrived awfully quickly,” Lin noted as she sat down across from him. Two set the cup back down. It tasted like hot water, but there were no deadly side effects. He still found himself preferring Silas’s drink.

“I was free.”

“You’re always free.”

Two smiled at that. “I suppose you’re right.” His gaze shifted to the window, studying the distant plains of grass rippling in the wind. “I sent a letter out myself. This will be my last job.”

Lin’s eyebrows raised. “Is that so? I didn’t think you’d decide to go so quickly.”

“It seemed like a natural thing to do.” He frowned, wrapping his fingers around the tea cup. “I just completed another job before this. It was Silas.”

Lin hummed in acknowledgement.

“You don’t look surprised.”

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

The woman snorted. “That’s because I’m not. From your face, I’m guessing you were more shocked.”

“A bit,” Two admitted. “It’s just, well, Silas always seemed so…lively.” From what he could tell, there’d been little indication that he’d felt his time was up. It had been the same with his brother. The same smiles and laughs, the same routines, the same demeanor. And then, one day, he’d tapped Two’s shoulder and quietly made a final request.

“That’s where you’re wrong. The lively ones are the least capable of bearing immortality.” Lin chuckled and swirled her own cup of tea. “Good for him. I imagine the fight must have been quite the spectacle.”

Two smiled. “You could say that. I assume you’re not looking for something so flashy.”

“Oh heavens no.” Lin wrinkled her nose at the thought and shook her head. “I’ve had more than enough flashy fights in my life. Quiet and simple is plenty.”

On the other side of the house, Two heard something crash, followed by the faint sound of cursing and rapid footsteps. He assumed it was the boy he’d seen earlier. He couldn’t detect any other living souls in the building.

“That apprentice of yours seems very energetic.”

“Unfortunately yes.” Lin sighed and took another sip of the bland tea. Its lack of flavor didn’t seem to bother her. “He’s far too naive. This realm is better than most, but it’s hardly peaceful. He needs to learn that quickly, or he’ll be dead before he comes of age.”

“And you don’t plan on guiding him any further.”

The woman smiled wryly. “I thought your brother was supposed to be the judgemental one.”

Two frowned at that, mulling over his thoughts. He could understand people like Silas, left alone in destroyed realms with nothing left to care for. That isolation was difficult to bear. He himself couldn’t stand it.

It was the way memories lingered in every corner of his home. The way he could turn around and see shadows of a long gone presence staining his vision. He couldn’t sit at the table without looking at the unoccupied seat. He couldn’t remain still without being made aware of the acute silence. It didn’t matter how long passed, his home would always be haunted by someone who would never return.

But Lin, Lin was one of the oldest active immortals and frequently took on apprentices. She had one right now who seemed to respect her, and she lived in a fully occupied realm rife with life.

Two said as much, and the other immortal didn’t even flinch. Instead, she simply heaved a long sigh.

“This is why I never believed in a maturity limit. You may be long lived, but you still think like a child to me.” She finished her tea and set the cup down, folding her hands over the table.

“Perhaps it’s beyond your understanding, but there comes a point when nothing has value anymore.” Her brows furrowed. “Once you’re past that, you can only view things with resentment. I imagine it was the same with your brother.”

Two jolted at the mention, but Lin’s expression remained steady.

“You may call it cruel to the ones we leave behind, and perhaps it is. But I, frankly, would rather not live long enough to grow bitter at the things I used to care for.”

Through the thin wooden walls, Two heard another light thump as the apprentice boy moved whatever had fallen back into place. He frowned, meeting Lin’s hard gaze.

A few seconds of silence passed. Finally, he sighed and shook his head.

“You really haven’t changed at all.”

The woman smiled wryly. “And neither have you. Are you sure about that letter of yours? You know you can’t take it back.”

“Very sure.” More so now than ever.

Lin seemed to take his word for it. She stood, the chair creaking beneath her.

“Well, that’s more than enough talking, I think.” She flicked a wrist, gesturing for Two to follow without a second glance back, simply expecting to be obeyed. Lin had always been like that, always acting a bit above everyone else. It didn’t come from a place of contempt, but rather a genuinely felt distance. It was the main reason Two had never been as close to her as some of the other immortals.

He stood, moving to follow. Even the immortals he didn’t get along with, however, he still understood and respected to a degree. It was hard not to, when their experiences were so uniquely felt.

They made their way out of the home, the floorboards creaking beneath their feet as they walked. Lin led them out a backdoor, where they crossed the porch and stepped onto a vast field of grasses that went up to Two’s waist. Their colors seemed to shift in the light, moving between dark green and turquoise and gold.

A little ways away from the porch stood a single tree in the center of that grassy sea. Its trunk was curved into a crescent shape, and long hanging branches billowed like curtains in the wind. There were no leaves on them, but Two could see a few white buds waiting to bloom.

Lin stopped just below those swaying branches, and Two took position directly opposite of her. From here, he could just make out the house at the bottom of the hill.

Two removed a glove, focusing and carefully forming a dense shroud of smoky mist around his fingers. Lin, he noted, kept glancing down at the porch, and he raised an eyebrow.

“If there’s any conditions you’d like to set, I’d appreciate it if you told me beforehand.”

The woman snorted. “I’d planned on asking if you were alright with being a target for revenge, but considering your letter, I didn’t think it mattered.”

Two raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the house again. If he focused, he could just make out the muffled sound of footsteps approaching the porch. He turned and met eyes with Lin, who had a wry smile on her face. He heard the footsteps draw closer, and everything clicked.

“Ah. I understand.”

Two raised his hand in preparation. Another gust of wind blew past, and Lin’s long hair whipped outwards in dark ribbons. The woman looked completely calm, muscles relaxed and eyes steady. Despite his past quarrels with the other immortal, Two couldn’t help but respect her complete assuredness.

A few seconds passed, and then, Two heard it. The distant creaking of an opening door.

Two lunged forward without hesitation. The inky smoke jolted, forming a pointed blade that stabbed straight through the other immortal’s heart.

The mist dissipated as a yell rang out from the bottom of the hill. Lin fell backwards, landing against the tree trunk with a thump, black hair splayed wildly about her. Her expression didn’t change, showing no signs of pain even though Two knew it had to hurt.

The two immortals met eyes, and though no words were spoken, a mutual understanding passed between them. As Two turned away, bending his legs and readying to jump, he caught the faint traces of a smile on the woman’s lips.

The apprentice boy from earlier stumbled up the hill, movements frantic and eyes wide as he ran towards his fallen teacher. For a second, just before Two left the realm, he studied the boy’s face. He noted the fear, the anger, the hatred, and the raw, burning determination when he caught sight of Two.

Two couldn’t help but smile to himself as he leapt upwards into the sky, the ground quaking beneath him. That’s a good one, Lin. The boy would go far. He might even join their ranks as an immortal himself, one day.

The wind whistling past his ears, Two flew into the clouds. Soon, Realm 41 was nothing more than a distant speck beneath him.

—

When Two returned to his home that evening, he did something he hadn’t done in a long time. He picked up the old faded calendar, dusted it off, and checked the date.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to descend, the world outside the foggy windows bathed in warm gold. This had always been his brother’s favorite time of day. He’d always said the landscape looked softer under those rays.

Two closed his eyes. Soon, he thought.

Carefully, the immortal bent down and picked up the opaque white vase. It was deceptively heavy, and he held it close to his chest as he made his way out the door, leaving the little worn down house behind.