Eric felt a warm blankness envelop him and closed his eyes, a broad grin stretching across his face. Just seconds before, he’d been sitting in his worn but comfortable recliner, in front of the fireplace. Some music had been playing in the background. He didn’t remember what song it was, but it had been very calming. He’d been waiting, trying his best to be patient. Waiting for Samuel to call him.

Now his mind was speeding forward through space and time. He could feel himself slipping through the universe, leaving the weight of his earthly troubles behind. His grin broadened at the pun, for he was truly leaving Earth. He knew it was true. He was going back, back to Ahya. Back to Master Ehran. Back to Emma. He could see her now, as he’d last remembered her, snoozing in his bed, wrapped in a thin sheet. It was the symbol of peace he longed for.

As fast as the sensation began, it ended. It was still quiet around him, but he could hear someone breathing near him. He could feel the touch of stiff fabric around his frame, feel his shorter hair no longer hanging over his eyes. Even without seeing, he knew that it was Samuel there and that he was back in the body the mage had created for him. It was probably a new one, but he had no doubt that it would be just like he remembered.

Ding. There was the bell of the system, letting him know about some fact of his arrival. He did not open his eyes right away, however. He searched out with his mind, feeling another presence coming to life beside him. That was the wolf. He’d called it Ehran, of course, but now he supposed he should think of a new name for it. It came into contact with his soul, and he felt his own fierce joy at their return reflected back at him. The hunger was there. The hunger for adventure, and for the hunt.

Finally, he opened his eyes. As expected, the tall pale Archmage was standing before him, waiting patiently for Eric to come to his senses. They were standing in a large library, he could see. It didn’t look quite the same as the Archivist’s library in the College, but it was the same style. Light walls with dark bookcases stretching to the ceiling. Then most of his field of vision was taken over by a window of text, appearing a second or two after his eyes had opened.

Welcome back to Ahya!

You have once again awoken to find yourself far from home. Everything is just as you remember, but some things may have changed.

Objective: Equip armor and weapons

Well, he thought with an inward laugh, that was an easy quest to accomplish. His items were piled on a table to his right, in perfect condition. He took a few steps over to them and picked up the sword that Master Ehran had given him, unsheathing it. It felt like picking up an old favorite tool. The weapon even seemed to welcome his touch once more, humming slightly as he sliced it through the air in an experimental pattern.

“Welcome back, Eric,” Samuel said, drawing his attention. “It seems there were no issues with your summoning.”

Eric turned to regard the mage, that broad grin appearing once more. “Feels just like it used to. No issues whatsoever.”

Samuel had a matching smile on his face as he watched Eric get re-acquainted with his created body. “It should be identical to the one you last had. You should also find your strength, power, and stamina untouched.”

“That’s awesome,” Eric said genuinely as he tugged the chest armor over his body. “Thanks a bunch, Samuel.”

“Not at all,” the wizard said. “I’m glad that you don’t me and Ahya for everything that happened to you.”

Eric turned to face him, eyebrows raised. “Was that what you were worried about? I thought I made myself clear. You’re just the way I got in. But there are other things about Ahya that I’m not ready to give up yet. Speaking of which, does anybody but you and Megan know that I was coming?”

“No,” Samuel said with a shake of his head. “I meant to inform Ehran, but I’ve been kept busy with the Exchange. It got a little more chaotic than expected.”

That knowledge was enough to stop Eric in the equipping of his armor. Holding one of his greaves, he turned around again. “Is Megan okay?”

“She’s fine,” Samuel reassured him. “Just, struggling with lingering effects of her summoning is all.”

Eric gave a sympathetic nod, then bent over to fasten his greaves firmly in place. The weight of the metal felt comforting, as did the way it gripped just above and below his calf muscle. As if he’d never taken them off, he thought with a grin. Even his clothes were identical, save for the white undershirt he’d been wearing on the day that he’d left Ahya. That had probably been bloodsoaked and ruined, he thought. Samuel could have replaced it, but what he’d chosen was comfortable enough for the time being. He could always visit Weaver’s Alley. So much of the city to reacquaint himself with.

“I can tell that you’re eager to be off already,” Samuel said patiently. “But please, come see me at the end of the week.”

“Will do,” Eric said, sliding his last bracer over his forearm. “Oh, that’s a good point. What is the date?”

Samuel raised one eyebrow at him as if surprised it took him this long to ask. “It is the 14th of Diwa, 886.”

Eric took a moment to sort out his memories of the unique Ahyan calendar. It took him longer than he’d have liked. After about a minute, he said. “Month of Spirits, eh? Bora Bora’s birthday is coming up soon.”

“Indeed,” Samuel agreed. “Thanks for reminding me. He always gets insufferable around the day. But the people love to celebrate their Day of the Dead.”

“Odd that the people choose to celebrate that particular domain,” Eric commented, tugging his tunic straight and adjusting the long blue sleeves. “You’d think they’d focus on his other… er… passions.”

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Samuel raised an eyebrow again, but gave no comment, merely giving a half-hearted wave as a door materialized in the wall. It swung open to reveal a busy street, packed with people walking back and forth. It was hard to tell from this angle, but Eric was certain that he was looking at Market Street. Just two kilometers from Issho-Ni, and not even half that distance from Emma’s shop, Willow’s Respite. The grin, if possible, went even broader. He was already moving through the door at a brisk walk as he waved over his shoulder.

“See you at the end of the week!” The door closed behind him without further comment from the mage, and he paused to survey the crowd of Milagreans. It looked to be early morning, which meant that the first round of shoppers was out in force, battling for space with the farmworkers coming in for their first hot meal of the day. Mandra’s tavern would be packed right about now, he knew, so he’d have to stop by later for some tea. Right at that moment, he knew where he wanted to go.

About two blocks away from Emma’s shop, he realized that, for the people who didn’t know that he was from Earth, he would have to come up with a believable story to explain his absence. It wouldn’t be a problem with Emma, of course, for she knew this secret. But for Ehran and his other friends, he’d have to be convincing. Would Ehran even accept him back after a year? That was a frightening thought that hadn’t occurred to him yet. He pushed it resolutely from his mind. He was determined to continue his training, even if he had to pass Ehran’s difficult test all over again.

The bell over the door tinkled gently as he pushed it open, announcing his arrival to the whole shop. There was someone already there, turned away from the door, bent over a small workbench, clearly grinding herbs for some use. The blonde hair was familiar, as was the green woolen dress. Emma seemed to have gained a little weight since they’d last seen each other, but it wasn’t too much, and, if anything, it suited her well. He smiled widely, waiting patiently for her to turn around.

“Just a moment, please,” she said. Eric frowned. The voice was a little deeper than Emma’s. Maybe she had a head cold, he thought. “I just need to finish mixing this potion before the Vieran blood evaporates.”

“Of course,” Eric replied, the smile leaking through to his voice. “I’ve got all day for you, Emma.”

The woman stiffened at his sentence, obviously recognizing the pleasure laced throughout it. Then she turned, a bemused expression on her face, and Eric’s spirits slipped somewhat. It wasn’t Emma. It was, however, clearly someone from her immediate family. She had Emma’s smiling green eyes, though she had more lines in her face. An older sister, perhaps? Or maybe an aunt. He only knew this couldn’t be her mother, for Emma’s mother had passed early in her youth, leaving her to be raised by her father alone.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I thought you were Emma.”

“You expected my niece?” She asked, confirming Eric’s guess. “But she hasn’t worked in the shop for nearly a year. Why would you expect to find her here?”

Shocked at this unexpected bit of news, and trying to contain the emotion, he deliberated on a reply. “Ah. I wasn’t expecting this. I’ve been away from Milagre for about a year, and wanted to visit my friend.”

“Wait,” she said slowly, her eyes crinkling as she studied him closely. “You’re that foreign boy, Eric. Aren’t you?”

Eric took half a step back in surprise. “How did you know?”

“Emma’s got a picture of you in her bedroom, dear,” the woman explained. “She gets terribly sad every time she looks at it, but only said that you were a close friend.”

“Well, I am,” Eric said. Then he added, with a slight laugh, “At least, I still hope I am.”

The woman poured the mixture she’d been working on into an empty glass vial before replying. It was a vibrant electric blue in color and seemed to spark slightly as it swirled in the container. Then she put a cork in to seal it, then dunked it in a pot of hot wax to keep it airtight. She blew on the wax for a moment to cool it, her green eyes studying him a bit more, then put it down. She put both hands on her hips, and moved to the side, and poked her head through the backroom door.

“Brother, get out here!” She shouted. “You’ve got a visitor!”

There was a lengthy pause, then Emma’s father came shuffling into view. He looked more tired than Eric remembered him, obviously a cost of having to run the business on his own. Good that he had some help in his sister, Eric thought. But it was still a shame that he couldn’t have seen Emma right off the bat.

“Ah, Eric,” he muttered, his voice a little wheezy. “I must say, it’s been a while since we saw you last. I thought you were dead.”

He stated the fact baldly, with no attempt to soften the words. Eric felt a cold hand clutch his chest at the statement. That was right. Samuel was bound to have told Emma that he’d died. This wasn’t going to be easy. Would she be mad at him for being away so long? Or, worse yet, had she moved on to someone else, believing that he was gone forever? He couldn’t confront that scary possibility, so he pushed it to the back of his mind, to join the rapidly-growing pile of problems he needed to sort out.

“I’ve been away for a while,” he explained to Emma’s father. “I’m sorry that it has been so long. I actually came to see Emma, and explain. Where is she now?”

“She’s traveling all the time now,” the man said, looking frustrated. “I think she’s out in Draco now. There’s been an outbreak of scale rot among the dragon-kin, and she went off to help treat it.”

“Oh,” Eric said, disappointment swelling inside him. “Do you have any idea when she’ll return?”

“Hmm. She sent me a message yesterday, saying that the worst of it has passed, and she’ll be coming home soon. Should be back by the end of the week. Just perfect too, cus we’re low on Frostwart, an’ only she knows how to make it!”

“We wouldn’t have this problem if you just let me pay Noctis to share the recipe!” His sister said, frowning at him. “Then we wouldn’t have to charge so much for it!”

“I already told you, ya nag,” he snapped back sourly. “We ain’t needing more yet. We ain’t even had snowfall yet!”

“Diwa is when the heat sickness starts!” Emma’s aunt was raising her voice to match her brother’s volume, hands on her hips once more. “It’s only a matter of time, and if we can’t provide the draughts, the folk will be off work! Or do you want to go broke buying it when we need it?”

Eric turned his head between the two, and an idea struck him, fueled by his need to make amends for his extended absence. He didn’t know what the heat sickness or Frostwart was, but it sounded serious if Emma’s aunt were to be believed. He cleared his throat politely to get his attention, then, when they looked at him, he tapped the coin purse at his belt meaningfully, letting them hear the jingle.

“Let me help you,” he said. “How much is the Frostwart?”

The woman immediately looked contrite and began to refuse, but her brother answered before she could speak. “It’s a silver per dose, and we can make a dose stretch ‘cross five patients. Why?”

Eric immediately fished twenty gold coins out of his purse and set them down on the counter. They both looked shocked at the sudden appearance of the gold, and even Emma’s father shook his head. Before either could raise an objection, Eric took his hand off the gold, and the small stack tipped over, scattering across the wooden surface.

“Take it,” he said, trying to sound polite but firm. “It’s the least I can do to make amends after being away so long.”

“But this is a lot of gold,” the woman said, sounding weak. “Are you sure you’re okay parting with it?”

“It’s no issue at all,” Eric said with a smile. “Consider it an investment, if you must. I’m glad to help in any way I can.”