Sidrick knew the battles would keep coming. Again and again, harder and harder until he finally died alone in the shadow of some great monster. He was resigned to it on Yenoriha.

Now, he was sure it was the ultimate truth of his life.

“Name?” the man in white asked.

Sidrick clenched his fists. “Sidrick Caelum.”

“Mister Caelum, do you know who I am?”

“Should I?”

The man considered, his demeanor oozing detached fatigue. “No. I suppose not. I am Olivant Yedsain. You may call me as you like.”

Sidrick took a deep breath. “Ede Alonse won’t let this go.”

“Problematic. But not unsolvable,” Olivant said. A chair of roots grew for him to sit on. “I was in Centralis to offer jobs. And to make sure my secrets were not leaked. Miss Kalstus did not take my offer of peace.”

“Doesn’t sound like you planned this very well.”

“Is that what it looks like?” Olivant chuckled. “Some years ago, I would have killed you for being rude. True, I did expect Miss Kalstus to at least listen to me. Maybe she’s grown too used to putting action before words. So many do.” There was a spark in his eyes, some vague amusement. “I expected more. But she did bring you to me. Travellers are always worth disrupting my plans for.”

“I won’t be giving you my magic.”

“You don’t have to. All I have to do is watch,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Sidrick was about to say something when space clamped down on his lips.

“I understand your frustration. Unfortunately, Mister Caelum, until you grow into more than an interesting distraction, you will continue to be toyed with. Other Sovereigns will find you. They will make you a part of their game. And once they’ve grown bored, you will simply be passed down the line.” Olivant stared up at the eternal sunset. “Either you kill them all or listen to a thousand more speeches. There is no alternative.”

Sidrick felt the grip on his lips disappear. He wished the bastard would skip the bullshit and get to the point.

“Of all the oddities I have encountered, you are the most… unstable,” Olivant said, looking back down to Sidrick. He appeared in front of him, holding Cyrina in his hand. “I would not leave this lying around.”

Sidrick quickly took Cyrina back. Olivant had stolen her from the depths of Centralis, bypassed what he was assured were some of the strongest wards on Linea. Evidently not. “How?”

“Perks of royalty,” Olivant said as he appeared back in his chair. “I move very fast.”

He tapped his armrest as he dissected Sidrick with his gaze. The world collapsed around them as the endless city of hollow trees receded. The sunset gave way to a blue sky. The floor fractured and rose as it morphed into a sea of large jagged rocks. Thick fog lazily churned around Sidrick’s waist.

“If I’m correct, you have ice, soul, and space as your affinities. And only one has been developed,” Olivant said as he looked around.

“Where are we?” Sidrick growled. Sovereign or not, he couldn’t make himself act polite.

“You seem strong for someone your age. A wonderful asset in the right hands, if my intuition is correct. Plenty of potential. But there are plenty of battlemages. Do you think it’s worth rescuing you?” Olivant asked. He held no malice—he wasn’t even trying to upset him. Just a question. One he probably knew the answer to already.

“No. But I don’t think my value as a battlemage is what they’re going by,” Sidrick said. Layla will come find me, at least.

Olivant shook his head. “If Jonah really cared, wouldn’t she have agreed to peace? Two students right behind her, and all she thinks to do is fight. Unlike you. You protected the elven girl. Commendable, though unnecessary.

“In my eyes, the only reason to rescue you is if your magic is worth the protection, or if you travelled with someone they want to keep happy.” Olivant’s gaze burned into Sidrick’s core. “Or is it both?”

Sidrick didn’t reply.

Olivant smiled.

“I wonder how you’ll fare,” he said as a veil of dead leaves swirled up from the fog.

Sidrick cursed as he shielded his eyes. Once the leaves finally settled, Olivant was gone.

And Sidrick was alone again.

Surely not in a place he could be easily found or rescued.

There were definitely monsters.

And no signs of civilization.

He clenched his teeth. It was the labyrinth all over again.

He held Cyrina close to his side as his gaze grew more and more distant. His heart was a quiet drum. His hand landed against one of the large rocks. He leaned against it, feeling all the weight of the world land on his shoulders.

“I-I’m so tired,” he said with a sad chuckle. “I just… Why am I even alive?”

Here.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Comfort.

Cyrina pushed out two words, each a strain on the brittle fabric holding her together.

“Stop. Please.” Sidrick took deep breaths as he buried his fear, his regrets, all the things he didn’t need right now. “I’m fine. I can do this.”

All he needed was the cold. He needed Yenorihan options—a way to kill any unlucky creature that looked his way. Yet some part of him wouldn’t listen. The little seedling of hope that had stupidly broken through the dirt.

Sidrick raised his tired eyes.

There was no spark or unnatural light. No sudden release of his darker thoughts. There was life, and that was enough.

What were his options?

His natural mana senses hurt to use ever since he left the labyrinth. If there was some trick to where he was, or if the fog was magical in nature, then there was little he could do. He had a feeling that sitting down and forcing himself to sense the currents would just knock him unconscious. Or worse.

So what? Just pick a direction and walk?

Pages.

Cyrina sent. Sidrick felt her consciousness slip and darken.

He murmured an apology as he opened the book. The words were all in a language he didn’t know. He flipped the pages until he reached a page with no writing, a solitary dot of silver at its center. The Fae blood she absorbed?

Sidrick reached out with his magic… and the silver dot moved. It dragged along the page like ink on a quill, the little dot somehow containing enough blood to draw a basic array. He was about to try using it when he saw the lines glow on their own. His mana drained into Cyrina as a small shard of ice appeared over her page.

He plucked the shard from the air, examining it as it dissolved back to mana.

He couldn’t use Linean magic but she could. With no strain either, if his senses weren’t lying.

Olivant had said something about watching him. Sidrick wagered he wanted to force him to use Yenorihan magic, observe it, and simply copy the casting method. His physical strength was his greatest asset at the moment. However, simple spells—heating, cooling, light—were what made the difference on expeditions. The simple comforts.

He started writing the spatial sensory spell on Cyrina, only for the Fae blood to run out halfway. That was one of his simplest space spells. One of his greatest advantages in this mess of a landscape. Casting it himself would be like putting a massive, glowing “TRAVELER” sign over his head, not to mention giving Olivant what he wanted.

Sidrick resolved to find a way to simplify the spell further. If he had something to do the calculations for him, it would remove half of the array’s complexity. Not that something like that existed.

He glanced at Cyrina.

Well… something to think about once she was healed.

For now, he’d have to rely on his own limited senses.

Once he was safe, he’d find a way to sense the currents and use them.

Magic was a mostly scientific problem. Once you separated out the conceptual factors, all you were left with were rules and equations. You translated solutions with arrays—the runes and lines were just a language the ethereal side of magic spoke.

All he needed to do was find the right words.

Climbing up on one of the larger rocks nearby, he looked around for shelter. Really, just a sign of anything aside from nature’s knife collection. But there was nothing but jagged rocks. Here and there, he caught glimpses of movement behind and between the rocks. You could almost mistake it for the fog, whatever was moving down there.

He heard something shift behind him.

Sidrick whipped around in time to see a black eel launching itself towards him. He sidestepped and tried to catch it. The eel slipped right through his grip, leaving a grayish residue on his hand. The creature swam through the fog, back into hiding.

Sidrick frowned. It felt like little needles were poking his skin where the residue was. Poison? It wouldn’t truly affect him unless he bathed in it. Maybe it was just to scare predators—make the eels too annoying to hunt.

Wiping his hand on the rock, he surveyed the land one more time. If he wanted to avoid the eels and the fog, using the rocks as natural stepping stones should work. It would be a walk through Centralis after the trap layer. He hopped between rocks, moving quickly in the direction his gut pointed.

As his foot landed on a new rock, it suddenly shifted. Sidrick almost hurt his ankle before he managed to kick back to a different rock… which also started moving. He went down to the fog and watched as every jagged rock started dragging past him.

The region rumbled and crunched as Sidrick carefully avoided the crawling rocks. He caught a glimpse of two beady eyes poking out beneath. They paused to look at him, then moved on.

“Shells…” he murmured.

The entire field of rocks was a group of massive, crab-like creatures.

Some of them began to mesh together, their shells fitting together like giant puzzle pieces. More crabs stacked on top, forming a walking pyramid the size of a large hill.

When it finished building, Sidrick decided there was no safer place to be. The creatures seemed content to ignore him, at least. Better than waiting to be trampled or hunted by something worse than a fog eel.

He quickly climbed atop one of the pyramids and found a good foothold. One of the creatures poked its beady little eyes out, blinked at him in vague puzzlement, then receded.

It seemed like he was welcome. Or tolerated, at least.

Sidrick took in the view and gasped.

It looked like countless fish swimming through a sea of fog, their fins cutting across the top. Pyramids were building in the distance, uniform in size and varying in shape. Some were more jagged with sharper, scattered angles. Others were near perfectly smooth.

In the distance, one pyramid loomed above the others, its tip a shining red.

Sidrick’s eyes widened. Molten rock kept in the shape of the creature’s shell?

If every one of them were capable of that…

He’d keep on their good side.

As he gazed out, Sidrick forgot his troubles. Even Olivant. For several minutes, all that he felt was awe. Cities, labyrinths, the depths of magic, all of it was so small. All so insignificant before the roving mountain chain.

Sidrick smiled and broke into a laugh. Unbelievable warmth flowed from his heart, untying the knots he didn’t even realize were there.

A few of the creatures poked their eyes out to look at their odd passenger.

Cyrina radiated joy.

How long would he have stayed practicing magic in Centralis? How many months or years would it have been before he saw something like this?

He looked ahead to the red-tipped pyramid. If he had nowhere else to go, no way to get back, why not see where the pyramid crabs were headed?

Even if it was somewhere dangerous… Sidrick didn’t mind.

This was what he was meant to do—travel and see all the world had to offer.

Travel!

Cyrina sent her agreement, the word sparkling with excitement and curiosity.

Suddenly, a crack ripped through the air.

Sidrick barely had time to think as he looked in the direction of a distant pyramid. He saw a block dot flying toward him.

Shield!

Cyrina sent.

Sidrick raised her right before the projectile struck. It smacked into Cyrina with a loud bang before falling. Sidrick caught it midair, the metal still hot in his hand.

A bullet.

Linea had guns too?

He looked back to the distant pyramid. There were three figures—three enemy mages.

Sidrick grit his teeth as two more cracks ripped through the air.