A few years ago, my brother Danny took my parents and I to Cancun for Christmas. I remembered standing in the shadow of Chichen Itza, the last of the morning mist lifting around us, with nothing but ancient stone and silence pressing in on every side. Danny was already a big shot and had pulled some strings with a friend in the government, getting us access at dawn—hours before the tourists would start streaming in. It was just Dad, Danny, and I alone in that vast, sacred place. Everything about it felt otherworldly.
I’d always thought of myself as a skeptic, a realist—science, facts, logic. But that day, as the early light painted the pyramid gold, I couldn’t shake the feeling, deep in my gut, that there was something here I’d never understand. Something… deep. Danny was his usual self, chuckling about how he “knew a guy,” but even he went quiet as we reached the top.
The silence was strange, pressing down on us like a heavy weight, almost deafening in its intensity. It felt as if the quiet itself had a presence, filling the air with a tangible pressure. Dad, always the teacher, pointed out details in the statues and carvings—ancient gods and spirits, fierce figures with eyes that seemed to watch us. "No magic here," he’d said, smiling in that way of his. But as I looked around, feeling my heartbeat slow in the quiet, I wanted—desperately—to believe there was something here beyond any history book.
The small chamber at the top was even more intense. It wasn’t much more than a single room with smooth, empty walls and no inscriptions, just stone figures peering out from the shadows. They looked like guardians. Everything smelled of earth and rain, thick and humid, as if the air itself was steeped in secrets. There was no one around, yet the space felt… full.
Just for a second, I thought I felt it—some thread tying this place to something bigger. Or maybe I just wanted it to be there.
----------------------------------------
Ugh. I needed to focus. I was trying to emulate that temple’s silence in my head but I kept hearing my Dad complain about the heat—and my Mom scolding him.
“I thought you said you were solar-powered, Sean?” Or something to that tune.
I opened my eyes to see everyone staring at me with frustrated looks.
“The kid makes a spell in a day, blows up a Class D monster, and asks out the most eligible girl in town. But he can’t seem to stay focused for longer than a few minutes,” Cassie was clearly starting to get irritated with me. I was raised with computer screens, tablets, and video games. I was happy to focus on anything that was interesting, but focusing on nothing was… definitely not interesting. And given everything that had happened in the last day and a half I personally thought I was doing great.
“Okay, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over with no changes and expecting another result.” I said finally standing up to stretch. We had been at it for an hour. “So let’s change something up. Is there another way to do this without meditation? I’m not very good at it.”
Felix seemed to think for a moment and pulled a mana pearl from his vest pocket.
“I have an idea, wait here.” He said and got up. He walked to the wall, manifested the door back onto it, and stepped outside.
A few minutes had passed and I looked to Cassie who shrugged. I was about to speak up when the door opened and Felix returned, this time with a Sentarian in tow. The creature was shorter than the one I had seen cleaning up the crab goo, but looked no less alien. The door closed, but didn’t disappear.
“Ben, this is Ferris, he’s agreed to help you in exchange for a pearl. He’s an Arcanist that studies in Sylvarus.”
Ferris nodded, the movement almost robotic.
“Amituofo. This humble scholar is glad to meet you, B’reaker.” He said with a deep, accented voice that drew out certain syllables in a melodic way. “Felix tells me you come from a world without mana. This is an intriguing opportunity… This humble scholar is honored to assist.”
He sat down across from me and I was able to fully examine what a Sentarian looked like up close. He wore basic blue robes, and his face was quite expressive. Rather than just an exoskeleton like an ant, he had ridges and plates along his jaw the moved when he spoke and the space around his cat-like eyes seemed cut out of the shell, showing flesh beneath—allowing him to squint and express himself more fully. He was truly alien.
“My looks trouble you, Ben? It’s normal,” Ferris said promptly, tilting his head with understanding as Felix sat down beside him.
“There’s just nothing like you where I come from,” I said, trying to be polite. “I recognize so much on Ark, but you’re just… so different.”
Ferris nodded slowly. “We understand. The Sentarian Collective isn’t originally from Ark. We are refugees from a lost home. It’s only been a few generations, but this world is our own now.”
“The Sentarians are master Runebinders,” Cassie said and took a blue coin from her pocket. “Their understanding of mana is crazy.” She placed the coin on a small end-table and it seemed to melt into it. I blinked and there was an apple in its place. She picked it up and took a bite. “Even though they aren’t Hunters, if anyone can help, it would be them.”
“What the hell Cassie, you can’t go telling me to clear my mind and then just manifest an apple out of thin-air!” I said gesturing towards her. “Now I need to know how it works.”
“You need mana to do it,” She grinned at me. “Figure your shit out if you’re hungry.”
My stomach grumbled and I sighed. I really just wanted some water, or maybe some iced tea. Was it producing food that already existed or could it make anything like some kind of replicator?
“Right. Okay. Clear my mind.” I said.
Ferris nodded at me, shifting into a relaxed posture that somehow made his otherworldly presence feel a little more comforting. "Mana control isn’t something everyone learns the same way,” he explained. “Some of us can clear our minds, others must fill theirs entirely. Try letting your thoughts flow freely while keeping your focus on the pearl.”
I closed my eyes, feeling the mana pearl’s weight in my hand and letting Ferris’ words sink in. Instead of forcing myself into silence, I let the thoughts come: the crab fight, the tower, the death room, and then, unexpectedly, the cottage back home.
----------------------------------------
Twigs snapped and leaves crunched underfoot as I trudged through the familiar forest. Large blueberry bushes dotted the path between the thick trees and the massive rocks. I could even see the bright berries hanging in clusters, their colors vivid even in the shade. I reached out, plucking one, and popped it into my mouth. But the sharp crack of something hard hit my teeth, and I spat it out in shock. A pearl the size of a marble rolled into my palm, glowing faintly blue. A pearl? That couldn’t be right.
Where the hell was I? The cottage, maybe? It looked so real—but wasn’t I just sitting in the Tower room with Cassie and Felix? Memories of exploring these woods with Danny and Dad played in my mind, blending strangely with the sense that I was somehow here and there at the same time.
I turned the pearl over in my hand. Wisps of sparkling dust trailed from it, drifting away like smoke on a breeze. Mana. That’s what I was here for, wasn’t it? I stared down at the pearl, noticing an almost magnetic pull from it—something deep within me that wanted the mana. Needed it, like water on a hot day. I let myself sink into the sensation, focusing on it entirely.
Ahead, a river sparkled, flowing past the same trees Danny and I used to float past on inner tubes in the summertime. Its crystal-clear water babbled softly, filling me with a familiar calm. I smiled, letting the peace of the place settle over me. This was my favorite place in the world, my happy place. Only now there was something odd—a giant mirror stretched across the river like a dam.
I walked up to it along the bank, reaching out instinctively. The water flowed through the mirror as if it wasn’t even there. But when I touched it, a warmth radiated up my arm, and I could see my reflection, holding the mana pearl just as I was. The wisps of mana drifted directly into the mirror, mirroring every movement I made.
“Alright, Ben, one more pitch,” a voice said suddenly beside me. “Don’t think about the bases loaded, just keep your eye on the glove and think about the pizza waiting after the game.”
The image of a long-ago baseball game flickered before me, a hot summer day and my mom’s encouraging smile. It was the last game I ever pitched, just before I’d switched to basketball. I grinned, winding up my arm as if the mana pearl were a baseball, and threw it toward the mirror with everything I had.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The moment the pearl hit the mirror, there was a loud crack, and a shockwave blasted through me. I barely had time to process what was happening—I felt myself falling and sitting at the same time, like I was floating in and out of the dream. My mind tumbled, trying to make sense of the shifting colors swirling around me. I could hear Ferris’s voice, somehow distant and clear.
“You’re making excellent progress, Ben. Let yourself be carried along,” he encouraged.
It was surreal; I could feel his guidance like a tether, but I had no sense of where I was, of what my body was doing. It was a strange freefall through a riot of colors, with my mind desperately trying to reorient itself.
----------------------------------------
I leaned back in an infinity hot tub, taking in the view. A vast ocean lay before me, the tub set high into the side of a mountain. Enormous swells of water crashed against the rocks below with a loud whoosh. The tub was made of glass, and I could see through it, watching the chaotic waves beneath.
"Ain't that a wicked good view, huh?"
I jumped, immediately snapped out of my reverie. I spun around in the water. Why was I wearing clothes?
I jolted, whipping around. Standing behind me, nonchalantly sipping from a tall beer glass with a bendy straw, was… an elf. Less Lord of the Rings, more Santa’s workshop—though he looked like he'd seen far better days. He wore a weary expression, tempered with a strange, almost prideful satisfaction. His elongated, pointed ears poked through a mop of bright orange, scruffy hair that seemed ready to win a war against a comb. His skin was a rich, dark hue, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. He wore patchy robes that gave him a haphazard look, like he had lost an argument with a sewing machine. He looked over at me, grinning.
"Aw, this beer's wicked good! They call it a Belgian Quad? You ain't wrong, pal—Deathroot wine really is just ram’s piss compared to this."
I blinked at him. Was that... Boston?
The water around me felt real, my clothes were wet, and I could feel the wind from the ocean in front of us.
"You still takin' it all in, huh? Well, get fuckin’ comfy, kid! You and me, we’re gonna be seein' a lot more of each other. Name’s Ted, by the way."
"Who the hell are you?" I managed, still confused by how real this all felt.
“You ain’t that bright, are ya kid?” He replied. “I’m Ted.”
“Okay, and where am I, Ted. Are you supposed to be my soul?” I asked.
"Just your Spirit Guide," he replied, like that explained everything. He waved a hand across the panoramic view, his Boston accent thick with every word. "This right here? This is you, kid—well, the soul version. Pretty sweet, right?"
"Wait, all of this?” I blinked, eying him and then the view. “And you’re… my…?”
“Yep!” He said holding his hand out like he had simply moved into the neighborhood. “You took your sweet time too. I thought I was gonna lose my goddamn mind. C’mon kid shake my hand—it’s part of the thing.”
Hesitantly, I reached out and shook his hand. The second I made contact, the sky above us shifted. The bright sun dissolved into a sprawling night sky, stars blinking on one by one until we were surrounded by galaxies, sparkling so vividly it almost hurt my eyes.
“Oh Fu~”
----------------------------------------
I was flying. At least this time it wasn’t falling. I flipped head over heels, a cascade of lights and sound assaulting me until I finally stabilized. I was careening at an impossible speed through an incredibly dense field of stars. It looked like a screen saver, almost as if I was zoomed out on the universe somehow.
Without warning I stopped dead—no deceleration—just a massive sonic boom and a shock wave of energy around me rippling out into this strange cosmos. I didn’t feel a thing.
"Whoa, hold up, hold up. I got a bunch of shit I gotta say here. Where the hell did I put it... Ah, dammit.”
I looked around myself to see what looked like space, but with significantly more visible stars than I thought possible. It was like a sea of color.
Was that Ted? It sounded like his voice was everywhere. Stars seemed to pulse in time with the speech.
“Yeah its me. Hang on—fuck! Who the hell left that there? Oh, right… This it? Yeah. Ahem.”
And just as quickly as I had stopped, I was moving again. This time the stars were moving so fast I seemed to be speeding through a tunnel of light. Colors shifted around me in a vast display of wonder, my mind seeming to relax as I felt my physical self return. It felt like almost no time had passed at all.
I was still meditating.
“Ted Publishin’ Presents: Complex Universal Energies for Dummies,” He boomed like he was announcing a prize fight. “Written by yours truly... Chapter 1—‘Lil Baby Don’t Know Shit...'”
----------------------------------------
My eyes shot open, and I took a sharp breath, feeling like I’d been dunked in ice water. Ferris jerked back, his eyes widening slightly and Cassie looked up from a book with a bemused smile.
“Whoa,” I muttered, looking around. The world looked like I was seeing it twice—one my regular vision, and another through a strange shimmering filter. The walls seemed to hum, the lights burned a little too bright, and something deep down in my mind felt hollow. Like a low-fuel light has just turned on.
Cassie was lying on the chaise lounge, her thick book in her lap, while Felix seemed to have left.
“You’re back.” Ferris said, studying me with curiosity and approval. “You appear to have grasped a bit more than you expected. It shows in your eyes.”
"Uh, thanks," I said, though I wasn’t sure what for. As I sat up, I noticed faint, thread-like patterns tracing up my hands and arms—a soft, iridescent blue network that felt… alive. I couldn’t see these on Ferris or Cassie, though, so I guessed it was some mana thing.
"This is… wild," I muttered, watching the threads pulse faintly in time with my heartbeat. They glowed just a little bit brighter with every exhale, and it was hard to resist just staring at them, mesmerized.
“Ah, a particularly lucrative meditation. It seems,” Ferris said, his long fingers steepled thoughtfully. He nodded, looking impressed. “Your soul is quite willing to assist you, Ben. Many do not enjoy that luxury.”
I looked down at my hands again, feeling something unfamiliar and raw stirring inside me. “My soul,” I echoed, the words barely more than a whisper. I felt like I’d been handed a powerful secret, some part of myself I’d been missing my whole life. And somehow… it made sense. The logical, scientific part of me wanted to pick it apart, and something even deeper dared me to.
Cassie grinned and moved beside Ferris gesturing towards the magic end-table.
“Alright, time to look like an idiot,” I said rolling my eyes.
I pulled out the small pouch from my pocket and took out a blue coin. It buzzed faintly with mana, almost like it was vibrating just for me. Every fiber of my being suddenly wanted to absorb it, like I’d just found water after days in a desert. Still, I kept my focus on the coin and placed it onto the end table, mimicking Cassie’s earlier move.
The coin settled in the center, a ring of faintly glowing runes circling around it. Suddenly, a static pull shot through my arm, tugging energy straight from my core, and—
“Belgian Quad!” a loud voice boomed in my head, leaving a faint echo.
Fire shot up my arm, and I yelped, collapsing backward onto the couch. The sensation was like grabbing a live wire, tingling in every inch of my body, my skin buzzing painfully as I flopped down in a daze.
“What the fuck, Ben!” Cassie’s voice cut through my daze as she scrambled over, grabbing onto me just as my stiff body started to slide off the couch. I couldn’t quite feel my limbs; everything tingled like they’d all fallen asleep at once.
“Ow…” I croaked, managing to tilt my head toward the table.
There, on the end table, was a foaming pint glass filled with dark liquid—complete with a bendy straw and the unmistakable aroma of a strong, malty beer.
"I wanted water," I muttered. But in my mind, I knew that beer on the table was what I really wanted.
Cassie picked up the glass and sniffed it. “This thing can make beer?” she asked and Ferris seemed to shrug.
My head thudded back against the couch as I closed my eyes with a groan. "I’m… not sure I like my soul.”
“Wow. This is excellent. Is this ale?” Ferris asked, sipping from the beer glass and using the straw with surprising delicacy.
“You know how to make beer?” Cassie asked with a look that could only mean trouble.
“Yeah… That one’s called a quad. Really tough to make,” I groaned, pointing my semi-numb hand to the end table that had somehow conjured it. “Probably not something I’d want to attempt without… whatever that thing just did.”
“That is a Runic Compositor,” Ferris explained, his tone almost reverent. “A recent fusion of technology and magic. It gathers ingredients stored elsewhere and brings them into their final form based on your intent. The more complex the item, the more mana it demands. That drink nearly took you out, which means it’s quality work.”
I blinked, barely following, while Cassie took a long swig from the glass.
“Damn! Ben, this could even get Chas drunk. Definitely worth nearly dying for,” she said, draining the glass and belching loudly enough to shake the room.
“Absolutely not,” I said, laughing. “Go get some barley malt, and I’ll teach you how to make it.”
Cassie’s eyes lit up. “Seriously?”
I shrugged with a smile.
Ferris gave a respectful nod and surprisingly switched to Mandarin. “It was gas-emission to watch you reconnect with your soul,”
I squinted, catching a word that seemed off. “Did you mean enlightening?” The words were basically the same but the tone was off.
Ferris’ expression softened into what I assumed was a smile. “This humble scholar thought you might know Bodhi.” His skill in the language was impressive—he sounded like a scholar of the language.
Cassie’s gaze ping-ponged between us, clearly losing patience. “Guys? Same language, please?”
“Sorry, Cassie,” I said, and then turned to Ferris. “We have some similar concepts, I think. But yes… enlightenment.”
Ferris’s jaw clicked thoughtfully. “It’s remarkable. A world with no mana, yet still the soul is cultivated? This is valuable information. Please, let me return your payment—this humble scholar must balance this exchange properly. Karma must remain light.”
“It’s just from stories, mostly,” I said, but Ferris raised a hand.
“No more, please,” he said quickly. “Curiosity can wait. My Collective must be consulted to ensure this transaction remains in balance.”
“Same. Language.” Cassie repeated, clearly irritated.
I nodded, understanding Ferris’s need to keep things fair; it was part of his culture, where even shared knowledge had value.
“Understood,” I said, accepting the mana pearl he handed back.
“Amituofo, Ben,” Ferris said, bowing slightly as he left.
“What the hell was that all about?” Cassie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, I think our cultures might share a few things.” I shrugged. “Hey, where’s Felix? And… what time is it?”
Cassie smacked my arm, hard.
“Ow! Are you serious?” I protested, rubbing the sore spot. “It has to stop.”
“You’re going to spill more details. I don’t like not knowing things,” she said, jabbing a finger at me like an accusation.
“Fine, fine! You said I’m buying drinks anyway,” I grumbled, following her into the hallway. The door behind us faded seamlessly into the wall.
“And Felix?”
“He had to go talk to Elara,” Cassie said, heading down the hall. “So, it’s just you and me. Oh, and I believe there’s a bakery waiting for you—we were in there for eight hours.”
“Eight hours?” I echoed, stunned. “That’s not possible. I’m not even hungry. I mean… eight hours? Really?”
My stomach chose that moment to gurgle loudly.
Cassie smirked. “Uh-huh. So, bakery?”