This time when I landed, it was much more subtly, the black vortex I was falling through dropping me from only the height of my head as I landed squarely on my butt to the cold, hard….

Ground?

I stood abruptly, pushing myself off the faintly glowing ground, radiating with a light pink haze.

“What in the world?”

I had expected to be dropped off outside wherever the next Gate was, close to the village of Kar’anza. Looking around, if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that wherever I was, it definitely wasn’t Kar’anza.

Hell, I’m not even sure if it was the same dimension.

“Seriously, where am I?” I looked all about, but no matter where I looked, it was masked by thin wisps of soft pinkish-blue haze that lightly clung to the terrain, what looked to be a dilapidated castle courtyard that had lain in ruins for thousands of years. I could see where once proud walls had once stood, now little more than walking hazards.

“What am I supposed to do about this?” I muttered as I scanned my surroundings, looking for any obvious point of interest. When none presented themselves, I began to walk toward where I assumed the exit of the courtyard once stood, now too ruined to have much distinction.

“Wait-” I stopped just short of leaving behind the courtyard. “Wasn’t it daytime?”

Perhaps it was because I had acclimated to the darkness of the crackling void that I had somehow forgotten that it had been daytime in the desert.

It wasn’t daytime here, that was certain. At first, one would have thought that hours had passed and it was simply the darkness of night, but as I looked overhead, I felt a shiver pass down my spine.

It wasn’t dark in the sense of a dark night but dark as in the emptiness of the void, of the unending nothingness that felt as if it were threatening to swallow up all of existence. Not a single star shone in the sky above. The only reason there was any light in the first place was from the faintly glowing haze spilling around my ankles.

As I stared overhead, I felt as if I were peering over the edge of some horrifically long fall, a sense of vertigo overcoming me. Not once had I seen a completely starless sky devoid of anything. Primal, instinctual panic began to overtake me, like a corned rabbit facing annihilation.

Move. I’ve got to move.

I forced my eyes away from the endless void overhead, moving my feet. The movement instantly helped clear my mind of the wrongness I’d felt staring overhead.

Good. Now what?

I was utterly alone and unsure of what had happened to the Red Foxes after Dayvin carried us into the portal, but at the very least, they weren’t with me.

Alright then, there’s something. Priority one, locate the Red Foxes.

Wherever we were, wasn’t Haerasong, much less Kar’anza. I needed to find them; who knew what unknowns lurked in the strange void-locked land.

Alright, but where exactly is ‘here’ in the first place?

Outside the courtyard, the surroundings were filled with towering pine trees, as if it needed to be made any more apparent that this wasn’t a desert. Strangely enough, passing through the towering forest of pines, there was what appeared to be a path of less dense haze clinging to the ground, almost like a path through the pine forest. Just to be sure, I scanned my surroundings again for any other indications of where to go. When nothing noteworthy jumped out at me, I did what any ordinary person would.

I followed the ‘path’ available.

Walking through the forested area of this…. Wherever this place was, the feeling of unnaturalness only grew. Growing up around woods, I was accustomed to the sounds one could expect from them, animals, trickling creeks, chirping birds, and the cricketing of loud bugs.

But this forest was silent.

Dead silent.

It’s okay, Rook. Just keep going, find the Red Foxes, and get out.

How exactly we were supposed to ‘get out’ was beyond me, a problem for future Rook. For now, I just had to keep navigating the forest.

As I continued to follow the trail of less dense haze through the trees, it was the trees themselves that I noticed began to change, curling in on themselves as the pines lowly fell away until the once lush forest I had been walking through was now a desiccated wasteland of ghastly ghouls of former trees.

I think they’re trees, at least.

Perhaps it wasn’t the best thought to have given my earlier swell of panic, and I found my breath suddenly stuck in my throat, constricting tightly.

Breath.

I forced myself to take a deep breath, calming myself.

Good. Now, take stock of your surroundings.

“Well, there are trees,” I muttered, sounding strange to my ears after walking in complete silence for so long.

Okay, now take stock of your surroundings at a deeper level than just what your eyes see, idiot.

I’d been told before by my master that I still relied too heavily on what I thought I knew, on what my eyes strictly saw. Given this place’s strangeness, it was probably a critical mistake that I hadn’t taken the time to do this from the start.

When somewhere new, feel out the mana. That much should be basic by now.

I let my senses stretch out, looking for the familiar mana that made up everything. As with every time before, I could feel the world begin to gain a new dimension to its depth, the hidden world of mana revealed-

------------------------

“Huh?”

I was lying flat on the ground.

That’s not right.

Why was I on the ground? I had been standing.

So why was I on the ground?

Why is my face warm?

I reached up toward my face, wiping at a warm liquid film clinging to me, holding the same hand above my head as I examined it.

Blood. As in, my blood.

Things weren’t adding up. I had been walking and standing before next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground with blood on my face.

I’m missing something here.

Walking. Standing. Flat on the ground. What exactly had caused that sequence of events to unfold in the first place?

Wait, I remember. I’d been just about to reach out with my mana sense.

I nearly reached out instinctually to sense the mana, just as I had tried before, but I stopped myself at the last moment.

Think about it. If you’d been about to sense mana when you ended up on your back...

“It was probably from attempting to sense mana.” I mused aloud.

Obviously idiot.

I felt my brow furrow in confusion.

So, try again, but just…. Carefully.

Reaching to feel for the ambient mana, I repeated the process, albeit considerably slower and cautiously, like poking a pan to see if it were still hot.

And oh boy, was this pan hot.

The area wasn’t filled with ambient mana.

It was mana. Not just found within the air or trees or ground.

No, everything here was entirely made of mana. What I had done by thrusting open my mana sense was akin to pulling the curtains wide on a window, only to find myself on the sun itself.

“Think I got away lucky with just a bit of blood on my face,” I muttered.

Everything was pure mana, something that was beyond my understanding. Rather than try to decipher how I shrugged my shoulders.

“It’s beyond your ability to comprehend.” I imitated the Sage who had spoken with me within the realm of the dead Sages, the ghost of a smile flickering to my face before I dismissed it.

I began walking; for how long, I wasn’t sure. It could have been minutes or days. After some indeterminate amount of time, though, the dead forest eventually disappeared behind me as I found myself in what could only be described as hell. Bursts of liquid fire exploded from crevices in the ground as rivers of lava lazily wound past. Continuing my path forward, the pinkish haze gradually became more vibrant, scarlet like the liquid fire coursing through the cracks in the ground. It wasn’t until the minutes had begun to pass into hours that something new dotted the horizon, a stone structure that revealed itself to be an ancient-looking stone gazebo, four figures huddled on benches as I drew near it.

“Rook?” Veronika was the first to spot me, her soot-covered face splitting wide in a grin. “Is that you?”

“I think so.” I resisted the urge to run to them, keeping an even pace until I stood before them. “What happened? Where are we?”

“What happened?” Dayvin finally looked toward me; the light in his eyes diminished. “What happened is we thought we fell to damnation. Had I realized where that Gate would take us, I would have let the sand bury us.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“This isn’t damnation, I’m fairly certain.” I shook my head. “Everything here is made of pure mana. I was hoping you guys may have an idea, but….”

“Wait-” Veronika’s head suddenly snapped toward me after watching Dayvin momentarily. “Did you just say, ‘pure mana’?”

“Uhh, yeah?”

“And how do you know that?”

Oh. Whoops.

In a momentary lapse of judgment, I had let it slip that I could sense mana.

Whoops.

“Rook, answer me honestly. Are you a mage?”

Mage, but with an S, and more like ‘in-training.’

Instead, I nodded weakly. “Sort of.”

“A mage who uses a sword.” Veronika, rather than seeming offended that I had withheld the information, was smiling, even given the situation. “A magic knight. You know, I might end up right about you ended up an Ornnax adventurer one day, assuming we can get out of here in the first place.”

“Again, where is here?” I questioned out loud.

“You’re the mage,” Veronika said with a tired smile. “But if I had to guess, I would think it was some sort of slip.”

“Slip?”

“Think of it like this, if one Gate leads to the next, what would happen if they were damaged or somehow misaligned? Well, you might ‘slip’ off the beaten path.”

“Meaning we end up here, wherever ‘here’ is,” I answered.

“Bingo.” Veronika leaned back, looking up at the ceiling of the gazebo. “Now, how we get out, if we can, that’s anyone’s question.”

I closed my eyes, thinking about it. In terms of experience, I would happily defer to the Red Foxes; nine times out of ten, they would know better than I do.

But this wasn’t exactly a typical situation. The only one with any experience with magic here was me.

Not like that makes me much more knowledgeable, but I guess it’s better than nothing.

I thought about Veronika’s idea of this place being somewhere we just happened to ‘slip’ into. If that were the case, as crude as the analogy was, all we would have to do would be get back on our original path.

How though?

Had I been a proper Sage, perhaps I could whip up an idea in a second, but I wasn’t a Sage; I was a fifteen-year-old guy. For the first time, I realized what that meant, how little I knew, how out of my depth I was with no mentor to look after me or guide me.

I need to think.

“I need to think,” I repeated my thoughts aloud for the Red Foxes to hear before finding a patch of ground that didn’t appear ready to burst with fire. Satisfied I wasn’t about to be cooked like a well-done piece of meat, I sat down, crossing my legs as I closed my eyes.

Breath.

Perhaps more than ever, I slowed my breathing to a near standstill, afraid of what would happen if I reached out my mana sense too quickly.

Breath.

The perception of the mana around me came slowly, but even as slowly as I took it, it was still nearly enough to make my eyes roll back in my head.

Breath.

It was strange. In an environment of pure mana, the distinctions between the types of mana blurred. Thermal mana felt as if it could have been as sturdy as earthen mana or as dynamic as fluid mana.

Breath.

I drew the mana forward, pulling it toward my wrist where I would form my first band. As I had done before, I forced it to begin to spin, slowly carving the foundation upon which I would build the frame of my foundation ring.

Breath.

Perhaps because the environment was composed entirely of mana, I found it easier to concentrate on it here, to manipulate and move it as needed.

Breath.

I took a deeper breath, and as I did, I imagined my mind’s eye growing just a smidge wider, taking in more of the mana around me. It was difficult, I felt a droplet of blood dribble out from my nose, but I kept my breathing even, acclimating to it like a climber would to the high altitudes of extreme mountains.

Breath.

Still drawing in and circulating fluid mana, I reached an arm out, pulling in the second source of mana simultaneously, my arm beginning to feel solid as if I could punch through a wall.

Let’s try this again.

Earthen mana drawn into me, I focused on coalescing it, forming solid beads of mana that I began to move toward the channels carved within my wrist by the circulating fluid mana.

Carefully. One by one.

I drew the mana together, meticulously arranging them. I redirected the fluid mana I had been circulating to create the mana channel, bathing the earthen mana and packing it tightly together.

I wonder.

I drew in a deep breath, but rather than a refreshing inhale, I felt as if my lungs were burning, blood trickling from my nose as I reached for yet another mana source.

Taking the source of burning mana, I began to apply it to the earth mana. Packed tightly together under the pressure of the fluid mana and superheated by the thermal mana, I imagined the beads of earthen mana taking on the appearance of diamonds. Strictly speaking, what I was doing wasn’t necessary, but when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.

And oh boy, were there a lot of lemons.

Breath.

I was sure that holding onto three sources of mana simultaneously would have ordinarily been years beyond my current capability, a monumental task like climbing a mountain without your hands.

But whatever this place was, at the very least, it was the perfect environment for doing the impossible.

Breath.

I was sure my concentration would waver at any moment, my hold on the mana escaping me. Yet, through pure stubborn will, I somehow managed to hold it together until, at last, I decided to release the mana of my own volition rather than let it escape me. Letting it go on my own terms, the excess mana flowed out from me far more smoothly, with no accompanying pain.

I did it.

I stared down at my handiwork. A single ring, only as thick as across a silk thread, wrapped around my arm just below my wrist. To call it a proper Sage ring would have been extreme, like referring to an ant hill as a mountain.

But, at the very least, it was a start.

I gingerly stood up, my body aching from sitting cross-legged for however long I had been at it. I stretched my legs before finally turning back toward the Red Foxes. They had shifted spots from earlier but were still sitting on the lone gazebo’s stone benches.

“Oy, you finally done?” Zet was looking at me, rolling his wrist. “If it wasn’t for the fact that we can’t tell how much time has passed here, I would swear you just spent a full day at that.”

“I think I might know a way out of here.” I ignored his comments, instead turning to look at Veronika.

“You do?”

“Maybe,” I answered with a shrug. As I had been busy working on my ring, the back of my mind had been left to its own devices, wandering as I subconsciously considered our dilemma.

“I think your idea about us slipping off a path might be right,” I told her. “But it might be too literal. I think I might be able to re-open the portal which dropped us here, and it should hopefully bring us to the proper Gate.”

“And how do you intend to do any of that? I get you’re a mage, but unless you’ve been hiding the extent of your capabilities….” Dayvin looked at me with a guarded gaze, a step short of outright accusation written across his face.

“No.”

Technically it wasn’t a lie. I had been hiding the extent of my capabilities, but that was more because my abilities were effectively null in the first place. Outside of this dimension, realm, wherever we were, I doubted I could manage anything more extraordinary than my ruptured body technique.

But I didn’t need capabilities; I just needed to direct some mana.

“When I was -” I waved vaguely toward where I had been sitting. “I noticed something. The gazebo. There is something weird about the mana. It’s almost like it’s a seal.”

“A seal?”

“It’s hard to explain without being able to sense it yourself. You guys ended up here when we slipped from the Gate because the gazebo is what we slipped past.”

“Then why weren’t you with us?” Tez questioned.

“I…. I don’t know why I ended up somewhere else, but I think I can crack the gazebo, the seal, open just enough. If I’m right, once it ‘opens,’ it will suck us back out, like water down a drain.”

“And you’re basing this all on….?”

“A bit of prior experience and a lot of intuition,” I admitted.

“Right, so you’re guessing.” Zet sighed as Tez covered her face.

“Does anyone else have a better idea?” I said flatly.

That made them settle down; no one else offered a better alternative.

“Then, if no one has anything to add, I’m going to sit in the middle of the gazebo. Once I start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop; I’ve never worked with mana quite as much as I will now.”

That was true. The mana I’d been working with up to this point had been like drops in a bucket, but what I was about to try would be like physically holding back a raging river. Ordinarily impossible, but it just might be possible to at least direct it.

I began walking toward the gazebo’s center when a hand grabbed my shoulder, turning me around.

“Rook, is this dangerous?”

Veronika looked at me with eyes that reminded me uncomfortably of my mother when she suspected I was hiding something.

“I…. probably,” I admitted.

“Well, I’m not your mother.” Veronika reminded me before tightening the grip on my shoulder. “Just don’t get yourself killed, okay?”

I thought of the strain my body had been under, utilizing the tiny amounts of mana it had taken to form the barest sign of a ring on my wrist.

Probably better off not mentioning that to her.

“It’ll be fine.” I faked a smile, something I’d grown good at having grown up with a witch mother.

“If you say so.”

I walked past her, settling down in the center of the gazebo. Just before closing my eyes, I took one last look at the Red Foxes.

“I should mention, I probably won’t be able to stop once I start.”

“Yes, we got that,” Dayvin grumbled.

“So if anything shows up, you four will have to deal with it.”

“What suggests that might happen when nothing has shown up yet?”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Let’s just call it me being a magnet for misfortunate.”

“Eyes up, people,” Veronika shouted, heeding my words far more seriously than Dayvin had. “We’re getting out of here without losing anyone, okay?”

I smiled at the thought, closing my eyes a second later.

Alright, Rook. Let’s make this idea a reality.

As before, I began to open myself to the mana around me. Rather than draw it toward me, I first drew at the fluid mana, prodding it forward as it whipped around me invisibly.

I could feel my body aching already, but I could manage if I didn’t try to draw the mana directly into me.

No, not ‘can.’ I must.

I pulled even more mana toward me, imagining it detaching from the rest of the environment like threads pulled onto a loom.

More.

My inspiration had been my foundation ring. If I could use fluid mana to carve a metaphysical inlay into my wrist, what was to say I couldn’t use mana to drill a hole in this pocket dimension and perforate reality itself?

Gods, I sure sounded like a Sage just now.

It would have been impossible in the real world; here, I had already seen my ability to wield mana was extraordinary, and with all but endless mana to draw on, impossible was nothing more than a concept.

More.

The mana whipped around me so fast that I could feel it as the wind slapped my face.

But it wasn’t enough.

More.

Speed wasn’t enough. I needed weight, power behind the drill.

More.

Spreading my arms out, I felt the earthen mana rush to me like a beckoned dog, mine to command.

This feels good.

I was powerful.

No, I was unstoppable, a force of nature, of creation itself.

I wonder if this is what the Sages felt like.

“What is that?”

I heard Tez speak, but I wasn’t focused on her words, drunk on the power I was in command of.

More.

The wind whipping around me felt like it was becoming a physical object, more and more earthen mana reinforcing it as I began to make out the sound of the ground beneath me grinding as my mana storm eroded it.

More.

The mana storm was too broad and in need of refinement. Imagining the storm collapsing on itself, the rushing winds formed by the swirling storm of fluid and earthen mana tightened until lofted overhead was a rotating spear of pure mana.

More.

I needed to blast through in a single strike if I wanted to break through. I could no longer feel my body, but some part of me registered that not being able to feel my body at all was probably bad.

More.

“Rook!”

I ignored the desperate call, much as I did with the sound of something smashing off to my right.

More.

I had yet to tap into the most significant source of mana, the thermal mana that seethed in a burning lake just below the surface of the ground we stood on.

More.

The mana spear began to explode with heat as I sucked in as much thermal mana as possible, my maelstrom spear a bottomless vortex inhaling mana like a man dying of thirst would water.

More.

It was ready, I could feel it, but I didn’t want to stop, still unsatisfied.

So much power. The mana here was endless. I could create something that even the Sages of old would envy; I was sure of it. I just needed to draw in even more ma-

“Rook!”

My eyes snapped open, Tez shaking me hard, her right eye sealed up from the blood flowing from a gash in her forehead. “We can’t hold them off any longer.”

I looked around wildly, and only now did I notice shambling soldiers made of obsidian marching forward, the Red Foxes desperately doing their best to hold them off.

“Those things are only getting stronger. We can’t damage them.”

Even as she spoke, I saw Dayvin swing his heavy hammer toward one of the obsidian constructs, but it rebounded with a heavy-sounding clink.

“If you’re going to get us out of here, do it now!”

I looked above her to the object of my creation floating overhead. Much like the soldiers, it was an obsidian construct. Whereas the living constructs looked like shambling imitations of a person, my construct was a weapon, a tool of pure destruction. It was a spike the color of the night sky, spinning so fast the tip burned white-hot.

A lance to perforate the boundaries between here and elsewhere. It was ready, I was sure.

But.

But part of me wanted to continue greedily pulling in as much mana as possible, a morbid curiosity of how far I could go.

Get a hold of yourself.

For one crystal-clear moment, it was as if I heard a girl’s voice calling out to me, shaking me to snap out of it, and just like that, I was back to my senses.

And with the return to my senses, so did my pain.

Except pain didn’t even begin to describe what I felt. I was sure with each breath I was dying a hundred times over.

My focus fractured like a glass pane, but just before I lost hold of reality, I flicked my wrist, the lance of mana spearing the ground and shattering the gazebo floor.

After that, well, my memories became hazy. The last thing I could clearly remember, or at least I thought I remembered, was a dark hand reaching out from the cracked ground, dragging me in.

Then everything faded into a darkness that had nothing to do with the vortex between space.