They did exactly what they were advertised to do.

“Two pieces of ash? Really? A light toss of a stone? How am I supposed to fight with that?”

I demanded from the strange stone as I tossed on some clothes to use

What do you think an, ‘ember,’ is exactly, huh? And it threw a rock. Exactly what it said. Get creative. Your Magic is not high enough to channel anything stronger without destroying your body, and your Charm isn’t high enough to attract higher tiered elementals. I told you that.

“No. At best you hinted at that.” I grumbled as I finished by putting on a light tan jacket, and grabbing my wallet off of my dresser. I looked to the Shard, sitting on my bed.

If you raise your magic, and were just a bit more charismatic, it would be stronger. If you think about it for a moment this is actually your fault.

I take my phone from my computer desk, and shove it in the front pocket .

Are you ignoring me?

I fetch the keys out of the small bowl in the living room, before coming back and knocking on my mother’s door.

“What?”

“I’m heading out, mom.”

“Okay. Can you bring me back some soda?”

“Yeah.”

“And some chocolate? I really need something sweet.”

“I can do that, yeah.”

Really? Ignoring me? So mature.

What the hell was that. I didn’t hear anything, nor did I see anything. It was as if I knew what was being written out on the Shard intuitively. I shut the door to my mother’s room and walk a distance away.

“Can you understand what I’m saying from this distance?” I about near whispered.

A moment later, the reply came.

I can.

Do I even need to bring the Shard then?

You do. Otherwise it won’t be able to function properly. You and I could speak like this, as our very existences are now intertwined. It’s like speaking through a can connected to a string.

Can you show me my stats? I thought. A moment later and the stat block comes to my mind, as if it were imprinted in my memory. This would make working with its set up system more intuitive than pulling it out of my pocket or backpack every time I needed to do something with it.

I go back to my room and pick up the Shard off my bed, and stuff it in my front pocket.

“Can you also get me something for lunch?” My mother yelled out just as I held open my bedroom door to let Clio out of my room.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Yeah.”

Clio sprinted out back to do her business, and I left the house. I glanced up and down the streets to make sure that there weren’t people anywhere nearby before stepping out of the shade cast by my garage, and toward my car. The chassis of the old Honda that sat parked against the curb in front of our house sank as I stepped into it. It sputtered to life with the turn of a key, and puttered along as I pulled away from the curb toward Walmart. The drive there was plenty straightforward. One part of the road right out of my street, was an empty field that had, at one point, been a cornfield, but now sat empty. On the other side were rows of houses and homes. A half mile or so from my house there was a set of stoplights, flanked on either side by a bank, and a gas station. By the bank there was a well fortified pawn store. Perhaps that would be the best place to sell items for now. What questions would they ask, though?

After the stoplight there was another half mile drive to the next one, right in front of a park. This park extends all the way to the next set of stoplights, where I would make a right hand turn to the street where Walmart was. It was an easy enough drive, that even I was confident in making it, without a license. Ten minutes after leaving my house, I was parked as close to the front of the store as possible. I take a moment in the car to steel my nerves, before stepping out.

People rush by, pushing carts, and I excuse myself quietly; keeping my eyes to the floor. Every time I pass by a person, fear and anxiety course through me like a lightning bolt. Oh, what was I doing? I could have ordered stuff online. Perhaps that would be better. Perhaps I should just get in the car and head back. No...I needed something to help me tonight. Some kind of weapon. Some kind of armor. Some kind of thicker, more durable clothing...some kind of bag to hold everything in. I needed that as soon as tonight. The two or three days it would take stuff from Amazon to be delivered, and if the time period was right, then I needed to get to work on closing these gateways into earth right away.

AS I neared the front door of the store, I’m stopped by a man dressed in a white suit, with a red tie. His gray, almost white hair is pulled back and tucked behind his ears, and held in place with a thick layer of scented pomade.

“Sir! Sir, excuse me!” The man approached with a waved hand. I stop in my stride. “Did you know that the world is ending? That we are standing on the precipice of the End of Days?”

Oh, great. One of these people.

“The signs are there, son. You heard about the Great Sandstorm that washed over Egypt back in June? And the hurricanes that tore through the Black Sea at the same time? The Earthquakes that. That’s the sign of His Wrath being poured out over our wicked world.”

I tried to push through, but he stepped in front of me once more, and handed me a card.

“The Church of the White One is looking to save more souls before the end days. Please, give us a call.”

He said with a saccharin smile, before heading over to the next person. On the card was a phone number with an 188 number. I pocketed it, and continued on my way. I grabbed a cart from the nearby corral, and push it through toward the sporting goods section. I picked up the things my mother asked for on the way: a case of soda, some pack of cookies, and a TV dinner; keeping my eyes peeled to the scuffed tiles. Every so often, when I had to look up to scan the shelves, I’d catch people in my periphery, and panic would rush through me all over. Pushing through this panic, I manage to get an impressive array of snack foods that I would take with me inside of these portals so that I could stop to eat when I was hungry, and could therefore devote as much of my time as possible to fighting this incoming threat.

In my head, I heard them whisper about how disgusting of a thing I was, and how I didn’t deserve to be out. A thousand whispers all at once, that I told myself weren’t actually true, but a manifestation of my severe anxiety. But, still, I couldn’t help but feel the truth behind those words. I just made everyone’s day worse by being out and about. How could they stand to be around something like me? I pushed through the overwhelming wave of self-hatred and anxiety that accompanied every single time I came out in public.

The sporting goods section was on the far side of the building, and I was already nearing my limit by the time I made it to there, so I looked around quickly. I found a machete sealed in plastic. I took it and placed it in my cart. I found a first aid kit there as well, so I took two. A water bottle? Might as well. Matches? Miniature propane canisters for camping stoves? Why not. I don’t know what I’ll need, so I’ll prepare for any While looking through the backpacking bags they kept in stock, a voice comes up to me.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?”

“I’m looking for a backpack.” I mumble.

“What kind?”

“One good for...walking around.” I turn to face him briefly before looking away from his eyes.

“Hm, well how about this one?”

He took the largest one off the shelf.

“How about this one. Can hold up to 30 liters.”

Who measures things in liters?

“Okay.” I answered, keeping my head down. He puts it in my cart.

“Is there anything else you’re looking for?”

“No. I got everything.” I lied.

“Alright, I can help check you out here.” He motioned to the desk at the beginning of the section.

“Okay.” I muttered as I followed behind him.

He rang up my items one by one.

“So what are you planning on doing with this stuff? Some camping?”

“Huh. Yeah.”

“In winter? You’re pretty ballsy.”

“Not..not the mountains.” I stammered, “Just...just by the lake.”

“Ahh, you got a tent? We have some pretty cheap ones.”

“I have...tent.”

“I see…” The man scanned the last of the items, “Total is...205 dollars.”

I scan my card, and most of my account was drained. Ah. I was supposed to pay rent tomorrow. But this is more important, right?