A carriage rocked and rattled as two horse-like beasts pulled it along a wide road. Their muscles bulged with energy, threatening to burst through the black and grey armor that encased their body. Dark red eyes could be seen within the depths of their spiked helms, while the sound of heavy breathing echoed out in a synchronized cadence.

Elsie gazed out the window from within the carriage. Her expression, a mixture of boredom and cold apathy, was like black ice in a still winter.

“…Didn’t…shopping…with me…I’ll show him…”

A subtle stream of mumbles escaped her lips.

“Lady… Lady Elsie, where did you want to go again?”

Madam Altores called out hesitantly from across the emotionless woman.

“There’s an old tailoring shop at the other side of the city. I think that’s where I’d like to go.”

“Tailoring shop?”

The noblewoman mentally rummaged through every potential business that Elsie could be referring to.

“Ah! The one by the Adventure’s Guild branch? It’s so far removed from the high-class tailors that I had forgotten all about it. Their business tends to be more catered to traveling adventurers and combat, nothing that I would often care to frequent. Did something there catch your eye? I could always introduce you to a more favorable vendor. After all, my connections run far and-”

Elsie shifted her attention toward the rambling woman and flashed an enigmatic smile.

“You don’t have to speak in circles. Ask me what you will.”

A heavy silence filled the carriage as Madam Altores cast her eyes downward. She grit her teeth and clenched her hands upon her knees.

“My son—how did you know he was missing an arm? Where has he been this whole time? Do you know where my other son is? My precious babies…”

Elsie quietly observed the grieving woman, who no longer cared to maintain her elegant demeanor.

“Why is he here?”

Elsie turned to the spot beside Madam Altores. Sitting there was a familiar man, sporting a solemn and pensive frown.

“Commander Ramoose, long time no see.”

“It’s Commander Ramon…”

The guard muttered with crossed arms.

“Yes, yes. You know, now that I’m thinking about it, the boy I freed looks nothing like Count Altoto, the man you were with inside the palace. If anything, he looks more like Commander—ah… I see.”

Elsie nonchalantly paused her speech upon seeing Commander Ramon’s cheeks flush red. His mouth opened as if to speak, before closing once again. In the end, he was saved by Madam Altores who hooked her arm around his.

“Sometimes people make sacrifices. I was only married to that oaf as a political move. If I could have chosen the life I wanted to live, then…”

Madam Altores tightened her grip around his arm. Elsie dismissively waved her hand through the air.

“It matters not to me. Your sons were both captured to be used as sacrifices. I set one free, while the other should be kept alive for another few weeks. One of them lost his arm to a man called Master Olgren.”

Initially, both Commander Ramon and Madam Altores wore expressions of worry and anger, but upon hearing Master Olgren’s name they adopted a more suspicious look.

“Is that name familiar to you?”

Elsie probed them further as she rested her cheek on the palm of her hand.

“Well yes, but it must be a strange coincidence. Olgren is a fairly common name in Anthor Kingdom as it was the name of our former king. Although he was a great king, he has long since succumbed to his bloodline curse. The current king is Olgren’s son, and it is unfortunate that he didn’t inherit any of the wonderful traits that Olgren had. Of course, I was just a child when Olgren was in power a few decades ago.”

Madam Altores explained while Commander Ramon nodded in agreement.

“It’s as Madam Altores says. King Olgren was well respected, even though his methods and nature were considered unorthodox.”

Elsie pursed her lips as she recalled the deranged man in her memory. His hunched posture, along with his exaggerated limp and overly sized arm.

“Unorthodox? How?”

She probed the commander, who shifted uneasily in his seat under her inquisitive gaze.

“He was a blood magic user. I’m sure you know that blood magic has an unsavory reputation anywhere in the tower. The adventure’s guild, Millennium Dragon, has even banned it from being used.”

Madam Altores nodded her head in agreement before adding in.

“And that’s where King Olgren was different from the others. After he learned about his bloodline curse, he worked tirelessly with blood magic in a desperate attempt to find a cure. It turns out that Millennium Dragon allowed Olgren to practice blood magic under certain two conditions. He had to be registered with the guild, and he could not practice blood magic on unwilling participants.”

“It’s true that Millennium Dragon would allow a blood magic user to roam free, but they would be under constant watch.”

Elsie agreed with a nod. At the same time, Madam Altores smiled bitterly.

“Yes… and It’s for that reason that the Anthor Kingdom is on bad terms with Millennium Dragon. Normally the prestigious adventure’s guild would be a glorious landmark in any city where they maintain a branch, but here in Anthor Kingdom…”

“They’re given the worst buildings and locations.”

Elsie finished Madam Altores’ sentence with a certain understanding. She thought about the rundown branch in Kenchi City, which was stationed next to the magnificent and towering castle belonging to the Anthor royalty.

“That’s right. Most Anthor citizens blame the Adventure’s Guild for inhibiting Olgren’s efforts, therefore preventing him from curing his bloodline curse. Since Olgren failed, the Anthor curse remains for all his future generations—a tragic fate that could strike at any moment.”

Commander Ramon let out a sigh of pity after his explanation.

“I see, that does sound tragic. However, what bloodline curse are you guys talking about?”

Elsie shifted her eyes between the two.

“You don’t know of the Anthor curse?”

Commander Ramon gave Elsie a confused look but was swiftly smacked on the thigh by Madam Altores.

“Of course she doesn’t, why else would she ask? She’s clearly not from around these parts.”

She scolded the man before turning to Elsie with an apologetic smile.

“Let me explain. The Anthor family has ruled this kingdom for thousands and thousands of years. Well, one day the king had fallen in love with a maiden. It’s said that their affection for each other was so great that it could shift the seasons and make Spring bloom early. However, the king wasn’t the only one to have eyes on the beautiful maiden.”

Madam Altores let out a sigh and gazed out the window as she continued her story.

“It was the day after the most historic wedding in Anthor history when tragedy struck the kingdom. The strongest man, Marumen, was infuriated that someone had stolen the woman he desired. Marumen was the exact man that had eyes for the king’s new wife. He dragged the king out from his castle, and in front of all the citizens, he cursed the king and executed him.”

Commander Ramon nodded his head in agreement before adding in.

“There’s a couple more details you forgot. It’s said that Marumen then killed the woman for not choosing his side. In his anger and frustration, he threw his legendary sword into the air. Some say the king’s descendants recovered the sword and secured it in their vaults. Others say that a wandering merchant discovered it and sold it for a fortune. No one knows.”

A swift smack once again found Commander Ramon’s thigh as Madam Altores scowled beside him.

“You men are all the same, thinking about some legendary sword. Hmpf!”

Elsie blankly stared at the two, lost in her own thoughts.

This was that kingdom, all those years ago? Nala Saed… that poor soul. Also, Marumen would have never cursed a bloodline. His methods were always more… straight forward.

She revealed a gentle smile, reminiscing upon a time that had long passed.

“Lady Elsie… could you tell us more about our other son? Jensen, our poor child, is still recovering in bed. He refused to tell us anything about what happened.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Madam Altores bit her lip and nervously tapped her fingers in her lap. Sensing her worry, Commander Ramon grasped her hand, entwining them together.

“Beneath the palace, there are many prisoners, your other son included. I plan to help all of them escape, but it will be difficult to do it alone. Instead, I will ask you…”

Elsie sunk back into her seat, both relaxed and seemingly bored to no end.

“How do you feel about King Anthor meeting an early death?”

Madam Altores and Commander Ramon recoiled in shock upon hearing Elsie’s words. However, after sharing a stealthy glance, their expressions turned solemn as they leaned closer.

“Tell us more.”

----

Sans sat cross-legged on the cold ground with closed eyes. His hair flickered within the whispering winds, while the sharp freshness of frosty mist filled the air. Exhaling at a steady rate, his eyes flashed open, and he peered into the endless blue sky.

“What a tall pillar…”

He was currently seated upon a thin and ornate pillar that soared high above the clouds. It was stone, with golden engravings that drew patterns across the surface. Below, a sea of white clouds acted as a substitute floor, but despite the spectacle he was otherwise uninterested.

“At least it’s better than losing a finger.”

His mouth twitched upon remembering his initial journey into the realm of illusions.

Kaima was ruthless, forcing us to repeat the same finger slice over and over again. Each time he either added a new sense or changed the application of magic itself, making it increasingly annoying.

He stood up from the floor and turned around. Every direction was filled with either blue skies or rolling clouds, and the platform was so small that merely two steps in any direction would take him off the edge.

“How to get out of here…”

Time was lost to him when practicing the esoteric art of illusions. Hours turned to days, which turned to weeks, but after every successful deconstruction he would revert back to a cozy campfire in the forest, seated before the ever-imposing figure of Kaima.

After practicing with just his finger, Kaima decided to up the ante by tossing both Sans and the other disciple in a variety of disorienting scenarios. Between rolling plains of sand, frost-bitten winter alcoves, and verdant forests, each illusion was a new sensation, a new world to break free from. Some illusions were so vivid and real that the only thing he could possibly do was live out his new life until he finally discovered a discrepancy.

Perhaps a butterfly flew backwards, or no smell to accompany the onset of heavy rain. Each discrepancy within the illusion revealed a node of sorts, a series of faults that allowed Sans to visualize the pattern in which the world was constructed, and thereby shatter it to pieces.

And now the illusions have become complex enough to involve a core to act as a central node. However, there’s nothing here besides the pillar I am seated upon.

Energy surged through his body, empowering each of his senses to their fullest degree. However, every detail was immaculate, almost as if Kaima had teleported him to the top of a real pillar and left him there to brood.

“But there’s always something… always something…”

Sans peered over the edge of the column, inspecting the sea of clouds below.

“I bet the world beneath the clouds isn’t complete.”

His heart lurched at the thought of falling into the infinite mass of white.

What if I’m wrong?

He buried the suffocating feeling deep within as a confident smile took hold. He immediately dived off the edge.

I’m not wrong.

The moment he jumped, he could already make out fractures within the illusion. The wind that should have screamed in his ears was dead silent, while temperature seemed to grow warmer despite the strong breeze. A film of raw energy protected his eyes as he stared at the swiftly approaching floor of clouds, becoming increasingly convinced that he had made the right choice.

Down and down he sailed through the air, and just as he was mere seconds away from falling into the clouds, cracks of shadows snapped into existence from every direction. Like a mirror that had been shattered into pieces, the illusion fell apart and the entire world was given to darkness.

“Ugh…”

Sans sat up from the floor, caressing the side of his head.

“You okay? You took a bit of a tumble there.”

A familiar voice called out to him—it was Kaima.

“Yea, I’m fine-“

Sans paused the moment he opened his eyes.

Where am I? Have I really returned? Or…

Before him, a campfire crackled and snapped. Tongues of fire attempted to escape the encirclement of stone to no avail. An earthy scent filled his lungs as he took note of the massive trees that surrounded him.

“Are you okay? You’ve been asleep for some days now.”

A small voice called out beside Sans, jolting him to attention. He shifted his gaze to the cloaked disciple, who fiddled with a thin stick, drawing a random picture in the dirt.

If he’s here then it should be right. I’m back to home base.

Kaima, who was seated atop a giant boulder, let out a sigh of relief.

“We thought we had lost you once you fell out of the sky. Luckily a few trees caught you on the way down, otherwise it would have been over.”

Sans’ heart thumped when a searing pain assaulted the side of his head once more.

Fell out of the sky? I can’t remember… Kaima wanted to leave the altar room, so he took us to this forest. How long have we been here? What are they talking about? When did I fall? Was it from the pillar?

He gently rubbed the area in a desperate attempt to soothe the ache.

“You hit your head pretty hard. Lucky to be alive. Here, have some food.”

Sans oddly glanced up just in time to see Kaima throw a chunk of meat at him. He deftly caught it by the bone end and held it by the fire.

Lucky to be alive... Ah, that’s right. We’ve been here the whole time. Practicing illusions.

His mouth salivated at the sight and smell of the succulent slab, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to take a massive bite.

“Mmm…”

Savory juices poured out of the meat as he chewed with enthusiasm. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until now.

“Glad to see you like it. That’s a piece from that massive bird that swept you off the ground. It was so sudden, none of us expected it. We followed along from the floor the best we could. Just when we thought we would lose sight, it dropped you! Brave of you to fight it off mid-air. Brave, but foolish.”

Kaima leapt off the boulder, nimbly landing beside the campfire. Sans clamped his teeth down onto the haunch of meat for another tasty bite. It felt like it had been days since he last ate.

“It swooped back down from the sky the moment it lost hold of you. We were able to beat it death once it was back in reach. In the end, a beast is a beast—simple at best. What was more incredible was you! By some crazy stroke of luck, you survived the landing.”

Laughter rang out between Kaima and the disciple, but Sans remained completely still, staring into the erratic flames.

Luck…

He glanced at the haunch in his hand. Firelight glistened against the liquid as it dripped down the tenderly cooked meat. His hunger felt satiated now that he had eaten, but his heart was unsettled. Sans dropped the meat and stood up.

“Are you okay? You dropped that.”

Kaima gestured toward the floor, but Sans didn’t pay him any heed. Rather, he was focused on something else entirely.

An intricate web of nodes, layers beyond layers, all hiding the complexity within.

Shadows surged in every direction that Sans looked. It was nothing like he had ever seen before in all his time breaking illusions. Every fiber of the world acted as a node, each one perfectly replicating reality, but for some reason—he could see it all.

“Break…”

Sans muttered curiously. Just as he imagined, the world shattered to pieces, ushering in a realm of comforting darkness. The ache at the side of head disappeared, along with the lush and serene forest. Instead, he found himself seated upon a stone floor that was draped in shadows.

“It has been awhile, welcome back—both of you.”

Kaima’s voice echoed throughout the altar room. Sans glanced at the man with intrigue, almost as if he were questioning his existence. He then turned to the cloaked disciple, who was also inspecting his surroundings for any mistakes. After going through a multitude of illusions within illusions, one could never be too certain.

“Don’t worry, I am real. At least, as real as you can comprehend. But I’m curious as to something…”

Kaima took one slow and steady step after another, making his way toward the hooded disciple and only stopping once he towered over the boy.

“The forest illusion is what we call a near-perfect reality; one that is convincing enough that a victim could potentially be stuck there for a lifetime. In fact, you two were trapped for days—how did you break it?”

Sans inspected the disciple with curiosity.

I know how I broke it, but how did he break it?

The awkward silence was soon broken.

“We are not lucky.”

The hooded boy mumbled out loud with a hint of remorse. Sans’ eyes widened in surprise.

We?

“Hmm, it matters not how you broke the illusion. With this, I will consider you to have passed. Be wary, however, that this was a simple implementation. A true master would never let you out of his or her clutches. So don’t neglect your practice, and never assume that the world you walk is the true reality you live in.”

Wonderful, now how do I get out of here?

As if he could read Sans’ mind, Kaima turned to him, flashing his iconic smirk. Next, he pulled the disciple closer with a hand on each shoulder. He stood behind the disciple and the two looked toward Sans. Kaima’s eyes narrowed and his smile vanished.

“Before you go, there are a few more details you should be aware of. First, the world of beguiling illusions can go deeper than you know. For instance, can an illusion affect a memory?”

Sans froze in place as he thought about Kaima’s question.

Aren’t I… in a memory? That’s right, isn’t this supposed to be Kaima’s memory?

“The next detail is the concept of perspective. The tower has its own perspective, and there are ways to avoid its laws. Is it perhaps feasible to craft an illusion of such complexity… that the tower itself thought it to be real? What if that illusion were a replica of yourself with its own life?”

The next moment, Kaima pulled back the disciple’s hood, revealing a gentle face with messy black hair. It was a familiar face, one that Sans hated to see.

He’s me. A younger me.

Sans stared into his clone’s listless eyes, while the clone stared back. Dirt was smudged across his cheeks, while the hints of malnourishment were as clear as day.

Did I always seem so... dead?

The next moment, streams of shadow and blue engulfed the clone from bottom to top. Sans’ eyes lingered on the clone’s face even to the last moment.

“This was a simple example of creating a clone. One that you can touch and interact with. One that has its own presence of mind, and its own capabilities to act. However even then it is not the real thing, as within this realm we are merely trapped within a dream—my dream. And now it’s time we wake up.”

Without wasting any time, Kaima snapped his fingers together, causing time to come to a halt. All sense of color faded to grey, before a series of cracks snaked across empty space. Like pieces of a shattered frame, the world gave way to a familiar black.

Sans’ eyes cracked open with a frosty brilliance.

I’m still in the altar room?

Wordlessly, he picked himself off the floor and faced the altar. Leaning against the altar was a smirking figure with his head cocked to one side.

“How did it go, master?”

“Shut up.”

Sans retorted before walking away.

I see now… Perfect Reality. An illusion so real, that it is indistinguishable from reality. Not only that… but a true clone, one that the tower itself recognizes as its own entity.

He continued speaking in a light and airy tone.

“Let’s go, we have an invasion to settle.”

Black shadows swirled around his body, cloaking him in comforting darkness. He reached for the door and swung it open, and just as he stepped through—he woke up.

Please be the last illusion…

Sans let out a sigh of relief as he inspected the room around him with a pleased expression.

I’m finally back!

He had returned to Anthor Palace, but there was just one issue.

“How long was I out…”

“A few hours!”

A small voice piped up from beneath him, causing him no small amount of alarm. He had long forgotten about Elsie’s tiny figure that remained clutched onto him. She stared up at him with a beaming smile and two massive, sparkling eyes.

Each illusion took varying amounts of time to resolve. Sometimes hours, sometimes weeks. However, all of that was a dilation of time. So in reality, I only spent a few hours? Time… what a curious concept.

He channeled energy into his five senses, and it was only then that Sans realized how naïve he had acted previously.

Elsie was right all along… this is an incredibly simple illusion.

Everywhere he looked, he saw faults and cracks that screamed a false reality. Even the most average of illusionists would be able to resolve the current situation. However, despite the room around him, there was one detail that was particularly odd.

Even though I know it’s not her, whenever I look at this small version of Elsie… there are no cracks. No faults, no hints of a false reality.

The tiny Elsie finally let go of Sans, taking two small steps away from him. With a meaningful smile, she took a deep bow before suddenly disappearing in a poof of black smoke. Seeing it as a sign, Sans picked himself off the floor and straightened his posture. With a confident grin, he called out into the air.

“Break!”

“Break what? Bobo, what’s he on about?”