Jaune threw an arcane bolt at the wall adjacent to his prison cot. It was absorbed before impact by some sort of murky gray shield that appeared every time something magical approached the walls, which were also gray. The bars on the small window and door were gray too. The wood of the door looked kinda gray as well, as did the chains holding up the plank of wood that he had affectionately come to refer to as a cot.

Almost two years of hiding, travelling by donkey, wiping away all traces of his passing and not interacting with people much. All of that, just to be captured anyway. On the border at that! Jaune had even cut off all his hair so that nobody could forge a sympathetic link with it to find him. It had grown back fairly quickly. The regeneration stat was useful and at two right now, but still, he had been running around the desert bald for a week.

Back then he'd had the choice between suffering in a hood or having a scalp hotter than most cooked meals!

Steps echoed down the corridor where his cell was and he tensed, preparing an attack but staying seated to give the illusion of peace. The steps passed by his cell, just like the last four times. Jaune slammed his fist into the wall behind him in anger. He'd been rotting in this cell for several hours now. Kidnapping him and then not even bothering to clarify the situation... He truly had been found by some horrible people.

Jaune laid back down and wondered where he was. The cell didn't have a window so he couldn't tell. It couldn't be far from the village where he had been captured. He didn't feel like he had been unconscious for a long time.

He grimaced at the thought of his capture. The crows had converged on him, forcing him to blow them away by causing a huge explosion with some alchemically created dust. After that, someone had closed in on him so fast he almost couldn't sense it and knocked him out.

Being underlevelled sucked. What was he supposed to do against someone with several times his agility? There was no time to react due to him being unused to such high speed combat, and even if he had a clue to what was happening, he wasn't strong enough to do anything about it.

Someone walked by his door again. Jaune didn't bother preparing for a fight. Maybe they didn't know he was awake? They might not know he had points in constitution and therefore thought he would be out for longer.

Jaune stood up and walked the two feet he needed to walk to get to the door. He clutched the iron bars and pulled himself up to attempt a glance into the corridor… only to flinch back as something crawled onto his right arm. He fell back down and managed to dislodge the ugly millipede from his hand in the process. The bug smacked into the door and Jaune killed it off with pest control before it could regain its bearing.

"Motherfucker," he muttered, clutching his arm that had come down painfully while falling. Steps suddenly echoed through the corridor outside, more urgently this time.

Jaune stared at the dead millipede that dissolved into ashes. That wasn't supposed to happen. The millipede had not shown up in his senses. Sure, the skill dimensional comprehension was being limited at the moment, probably by the same magic that saved his surroundings from being blown up, but he was still able to feel a foot or so outside the door.

Theoretically, the thing should have shown on his radar, but it hadn't. That and the fact that he hadn't actually made that much noise, but someone was still coming right after he'd killed the thing, pointed to it being a magical construct of sorts.

It would have been arrogant to assume that dimensional comprehension had no weaknesses, that no one could cloak themselves against it. It was still disconcerting to be faced with an example, though.

"You awake in there." A voice resounded from outside his cell. It was a young, also female voice.

Jaune considered not answering, but since he had wanted to get his captor's attention anyway, he shouted back a "Yeah."

"Alright."

So being awake was alright, was it? That didn't really tell him much, and neither did the analysis of his probably-jailer's voice help him in any discernible way. Half the world's population was female, and a third of those were in the young range.

The girl outside his cell left, still in a hurry apparently. Jaune wondered why, if he was so important, they hadn't stationed anyone by his door to inform them when he awoke. Maybe the girl in question was just hyper. Those people existed. Sun came to mind; he could still remember the boy's hyperactivity despite not seeing him for two years.

He went through some strategies to disable anyone who opened his door for what must have been the hundredth time, but ultimately discarded the line of thought. The simple truth of the matter was that Jaune was outmatched in every single way here: numbers, skill, levels, and some other things he couldn't think of off the top of his head. Negotiation was his only real possibility. A bad one, but probably the only one he had. Being in an overwhelming position of weakness was never a good way to start a discussion.

The worst outcome would be enslavement under threat of death, but even if that came to be, he only needed to gain seven levels to gain access to teleport or another movement skill.

"Only seven levels."

Damn.

It wasn't like they would let him fight if he was, as he assumed, a dungeon radar. Too valuable to lose. He would have to try and level up by mental effort spent on intellectual thoughts and pray to god he would gain some experience for his role in killing the monsters, even if it was circumstantial in the highest sense.

Finding the dungeon which allowed it to be raided, and the monsters dying in the raid. Those were at least two levels of separation from the actual act of killing anything. Any exp gained that way would be minimal, if not nonexistent.

The door to his cell opened rather abruptly, making him flinch at the suddenness and the light. A rogue stood at the door, the same one who had eavesdropped on him and Emanon at the inn two years ago. It was easy to remember a man who had several burn scars on his back, even if he seemed to have more of those now. A flaming whip perhaps? As a punishment for any kind of failure, or self-flagellation?

"Up, I'm bringing you somewhere." The man's voice was neutral, the unveiled upper half of his face not revealing anything.

"No restraints?" Jaune had to ask. Even if he was weak in comparison there was a still a small chance he could harm someone if he tried to escape.

"None are needed. Even if you somehow were to incapacitate me you would never be able to escape. We trust your intellect. You were able to avoid us for quite some time after all." The man's eyes crinkled as he smiled underneath his mask.

"Thanks." It was a slightly backhanded compliment, with him being a prisoner now. But still, nice to hear some people thought highly of his ability. Jaune stood up and walked up to the door.

The man nodded and started walking, slowly. Jaune appreciated it. He could take in his surroundings easier that way. Gray walls and drab was what came to mind. Which was understandable; he was in the prison wing of whatever structure this was. He looked out of a portcullis and froze. The rogue noticed and turned around to look at him questioningly. Jaune was transfixed by the city outside. How couldn't he be?

He was looking down on Brorusalem, a place that he had left several miles behind.

"How long was I out?" Jaune managed to push out.

"A day or so."

Impossible. In most cases. Now he was really curious about the identity of his captors. He took one last glance outside, to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

Following the man, Jaune quickly did some mental gymnastics, trigonometry. He knew Brorusalem to a certain point and he had been able to identify some landmarks: the statue of the Sun Emperor, adventurer's guild, and inn. From this viewpoint, the highest building in the city was the residence of the court wizard, a tower that stretched into the sky like a demented hand trying to strike the heavens.

Well, at least it wasn't some incompetent that managed to capture him.

He managed to dredge out some of the things he knew about the man as he was led through twisting turns and down many stairs. Not a great reputation, something with human experiments, feared enough that it didn't matter how others saw him. Capable of teleportation, fire magic, duplication; ruthless, decisive, and possibly cruel. Not the best combination of traits and capabilities for someone who held Jaune's life in their hand.

Eventually the rogue stopped in a rustic dining room, motioning for Jaune to sit down. The man then walked backwards to the door they'd just entered from and started standing guard.

The room might not have been opulent, but that didn't mean it wasn't big, some dozen feet in each direction with some floating blue flames providing light. The centrepiece was taken by the big round table Jaune was now sitting at.

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There wasn't any food present yet, but the cutlery and some jugs of liquid were. He only now noticed how thirsty he actually was and poured himself some. He discovered it was water and gulped down two glasses before being satisfied.

He didn't have to wait for long, as five minutes later the court wizard himself entered and sat down opposite of Jaune. Court wizard was a title Jaune associated with age. Sirius Black looked younger that he had expected. Instead of nearing a hundred the man seemed to be barely sixty years old.

Clear gray eyes, uninhibited in sight, clean-shaven, no wizard beard, and with a head of shoulder-length black-and-gray hair.

"You must be hungry." The man clapped his hands and there was food. Simple dishes appeared on the table, followed by more complicated foodstuffs. Roast pheasant, potatoes, soup, and much more.

Jaune shook his head. "Hungry for answers, maybe."

The wizard looked like he wanted to laugh, but was able to restrain himself. Still, the man's facial features turned less intimidating. "Well, let's get to the reason why I had you delivered here, out of your way." The man didn't seem to have a problem with eating as he spoke. "I know about your class."

Jaune nodded hesitantly. "So what, I'm going to be your dungeon searcher?" Jaune asked.

A shake of the head, another bite of food disappearing. "No, I need a portal to another world," he said lightly, as if speaking about the weather. His eyes burned into Jaune, though.

Jaune sputtered. "I didn't even think something like that was possible," he admitted, gaining a shrug.

"It isn't, for most people."

Jaune put some food on a plate and started eating. "When exactly would I be capable of something like this?" Several decades most likely. He shouldn't have eaten. He felt like puking now.

"I am capable of some magic in that direction, but I need help, someone who is more suited. At level 100 you can design your own skill. If all else fails, I help you get there, you create that skill according to my design." The words got more heated the more the man spoke. He was obviously invested in this topic.

The only problem in Black's plan was that Jaune did not want to give away years of his life for something someone else wanted. One could argue that getting boosted to a level one would otherwise never reach would be worth it, but it wasn't, not really.

Jaune had been largely independent for several years now, liked it, and did not wish to lose the ability to do what he wanted, when he wanted. And what he wanted most right now was to go to Beacon Academy for heroes. Jaune didn't necessarily want to be a hero, but having spent two years trying to get there had solidified that goal in his mind.

There was also something about it that drew him, like a beacon. As if that was the place his destiny awaited. He couldn't quite describe the feeling.

Black, however, was not a person that drew him in any particular way. Repelled maybe, now that he focused on it. There was something deeply wrong with the man. As if he didn't belong here, and never would.

The man was also the bastard that forced his capture, and was also a politician, if he understood the title court wizard correctly.

But Jaune was weak. A compromise would have to be made. "Is it possible for me to attend Beacon while serving?" Jaune asked, causing an odd look to pass across the wizard's face.

"School, huh? I can understand why you would want to attend. Those are often times the best times of our life." He sounded almost melancholy and wistful, but then shook his head and regained a colder bearing. "No, that won't be possible, not really. Maybe a metaphor would help." Black pointed at his plate of food. "You see this?"

Jaune didn't see anything but some eggs and pork roast but nodded anyway.

"The chicken, it gave its eggs for this meal. One could say it made a contribution." He suddenly gripped the knife in his right hand tightly and slammed it down onto the pork, stabbing through it, the plate and the table beneath it. "The pig however, made a commitment."

Jaune had still not recovered from the act of sudden violence as Black affixed his eyes to his. The man seemed a bit... feverish.

"I don't think I have to tell you what I want from you. A contribution ain't gonna cut it."

That was... shit, Jaune wasn't going to act tough here. He knew there must be some way to barter for better working conditions, so to say, but he sure as hell wasn't able to think of any right now.

He'd never quite been held at knifepoint quite like this. There had been beasts and people set on his death before. But never any that were stronger than him, proven by the fact he was still alive and they weren't. He managed to open his mouth despite the slight jitters still running through his body. "Can I have, s-some time to think about it?" Black glanced at him, as if sizing up a cow for the chopping block.

Jaune's first mistake was that he had asked, instead of stated. The second had been the stutter. The third in retrospect was that he directly deflected the small mental probe that had tried to sneak its way into his head through his eyes.

"I don't think of myself as a bad man, nor as an evil one," Black said. Jaune had differing opinions to that statement, but the wizard continued. "There are just some things in life that I would sacrifice quite a lot for." The man mulled it over. His face was quite easy to read now that Jaune thought about it.

"You have until tomorrow to think."

That was the sentence. One day.

Jaune made to stand up, not wanting to be here anymore, but Black waved him down. "You should eat something. There is no room service here. It would also give you some time to watch a demonstration of mine."

Jaune reluctantly started eating again. Black was right, he needed food to think. Now that he concentrated fully on his plate, he noticed that the fare was quite good. Which made sense, nothing but the best for people of high political office.

He was startled once again as an oink resounded through the room. He glanced up and saw that a servant had brought a pig into the dining room.

Jaune stared at it.

"Oink."

He had not forgotten the contribution and commitment metaphor.

Black started speaking again, though Jaune only heard it vaguely through a haze, already suspecting what was about to happen. "This is just a showing, that a commitment, must not necessarily be voluntary."

The wizard pulled out his wand from his sleeve and pointed it at the pig.

"Imperio."

There was no light, no sound of a spell going off. Jaune couldn't see anything change about the animal either, at least until he looked into its eyes. They were glassy, as if the thing was high, drunk, or unconscious.

"Run head-first into the wall behind you, until you die."

Thus spoke the wizard, and thus a pig died.

A limp body. Cranial seepage and blood running along the lines in the floor.

-/-

Jaune didn't allow himself to scream in rage... or desperation? He didn't quite know until he was alone in his cell again.

So that was it, the choice of either becoming a willing slave, or becoming an unwilling slave.

Maybe Black had simply used the spell as an intimidation tactic. Controlling a pig was very different than controlling a human being, especially a mage who had some rudimentary mental defences. But Black knew from his mental probe that he had those defences. A human could be broken down to be nothing more than an animal, with time.

"There comes a time when you have to choose between two bad choices." Great. The passage hadn't spoken of how to decide though.

Choosing the lesser evil, willing servitude was probably better. There wasn't anything he could do to get himself out of this situation. Black seemed dead set on his path and unwilling to compromise.

Jaune created several arcane bolts and hurled them at the walls, where they dissipated. Well, the walls were magically immune. He however, wasn't. He formed another salvo and gulped, heart beating out of his chest.

The arcane bolts dissipated as the thought passed through his head. So even his magic didn't want him to contemplate suicide, huh?

The only real choices left were willing servitude and trying to find his fortune in that place then. He hadn't entered shared dreamspace for a while now, for good reason. But it seemed like it was time to take a gamble.

Would servitude be that bad though? Levels, knowledge, and a chance to work closely together with an experienced magic caster. Jaune would outlive Black by about forty years anyway. That meant all in all, that he would at least have a few decades of freedom, maybe even more if Black found what he wanted earlier.

There was something drawing him to Beacon academy, and his very being inwardly recoiled at being beholden to anybody. It was just wrong on a level that he was not even capable of comprehending. Visceral somehow.

There was only one possibility left then. A chance of one in a million that he would encounter an entity willing and able to help him in the shared dreamscape.

He hadn't forgotten about the skill despite not having used in two years. Overuse led to long term consequences, this he had determined. But taking a chance with that and being enslaved were two very different things. Why should he trust Black to treat him as a slightly-more-bound-than-usual servant? The man seemed too taken with the idea of travelling to another world not to try and lay unbreakable chains upon him.

Shared dreamscape seemed to be the only option he had left. Jaune lay down on his cot and stared at the ceiling for a bit. It was weird returning to a place he hadn't been to in a while. It was nostalgic with a hint of danger.

Jaune dropped down into a vibrant forest. It seemed to be nearing autumn, the various trees around him changing their foliage from green to yellow and brown. It was beautiful, in some ways more real than reality itself.

He spent much thought and experimentation on his skills. But everything he had on shared dreamscape was mere conjecture; he hadn't allowed himself to use it after all. One thing that stuck out to him was the fact that he had only ever met one being using it. The wind that had answered his call for help back in the fishman dungeon.

Other than that one time, he had never encountered anyone or anything. He had seen things, but never met them. Because at the time, he hadn't wanted to. His thoughts affected this place, somehow. So to meet creatures willing to help him, he had to imprint his will onto this world.

"I need help" became almost a mantra as he traversed the forest, repeating it endlessly as he walked on. The soil beneath his feel changed to rock and the trees grew smaller, and sparser. The scenery changed into a desert, the sun bearing down onto him.

Jaune wondered if it was a coincidence that the first environment he dropped into was a forest, and the second a desert. A different facet of reality indeed. Following that logic, the next thing to come was a mix of both, or a city.

The sun bore down on him, making him sweat until he willed himself to stop. The sand under his feet crackled, drew together to slowly form into cobblestone, shanty buildings springing up around him to create a street. Its streetness was dubious at best, though. Jaune had never seen one without people.

The city scenery was short, followed by a longer stretch of desert and then an oasis.

It was eerie, retracing all of his steps in so short a time, but at least he was prepared for the sudden teleportation that occurred. It took him from a clearing that resembled the one he'd trained Pantheon in to the gray cell that he had intimately acquainted himself with the day before.

Only he wasn't alone.

A human head with red hair floated in the room. Its pupils seemed to be made out geometrical shapes.

Jaune opened his mouth to commence dialogue, but the creature interrupted him. "We already had this conversation," it said, revealing pointed teeth that fit together like a jigsaw puzzle to create a truly terrifying smile.

Now that he thought about it, he had already had this conversation. The thing would take over his body to kill Black and then relinquish it back to him. He couldn't for the life of him remember what he was paying with for this service, though.

"You're paying me through symbolism. Using a symbol of my design, you will gain fame or infamy." The head seemed to mull something over. "I recommend a guild made out of elite members." Jaune felt himself get analysed. "You don't seem to be capable enough to bring forth the effect I want in any meaningful way... alone, at least."

The demon rolled his eyes. "Enough time wasted. Let's get on with it."

Jaune had just the time to feel indignant before losing consciousness.