Damien Sinclair didn’t have a lot going for him. Eighteen years old, freshly out of high school, with absolutely no idea what to do next with his life. He could go to college, but he didn’t think he could afford it without loans. His aunt and uncle were good people, even if he wasn’t particularly close to either of them, and he didn’t want them to fall even deeper into student debt than they already were. They hadn’t needed to take him in after his parents had died on that plane, but they had, and they had done their level best to take care of him. Even so, there was always a distance that neither party could seem to breach. Nor, it seemed, did any of them want to breach it. As though trying to do so would destroy whatever delicate balance had been achieved within the last few months.
Damien looked up at the traffic light, tapping his heel as he waited for it the turn green again so that the crowd of waiting pedestrians he waited within could start walking. He was going out with his aunt and uncle tonight, to celebrate the fact that he was finally out of high school. Despite that distance, the thought of it made him smile. Maybe this would be the last step. Maybe this would finally be what let him start getting back to normal again. Maybe... maybe they would finally close that distance with each other.
Then, as the crosswalk light turned green, Damien took a single, determined step. And everything went white.
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The first thing that he registered was the pain in his chest. It was practically all-consuming, like a fire that didn’t just devour wood and kindling, but everything else, unstoppable and impossible to slow, slay, or negotiate.
Then, slowly, it began to fade. Damien’s chest didn’t feel like it was on fire, and he could breathe. Slowly, and not particularly well, but it was better than not breathing at all. As the pain faded from the rest of his body, he clumsily rolled around, trying to find purchase of some kind to steady himself, to stand up and find out what the hell had happened to him.
That was when Damien realized he wasn’t on solid... anything. Everything around him was entirely filled with stars and the darkness between them all. Like he was in the cosmic void of space, and somehow did not feel the freezing cold or the lack of breathable atmosphere. It was terrifying, but strangely beautiful, too.
Then he looked down at his body. It was bizarre enough that he seemed to be deep inside of some kind of nebula, but there was also the fact that he... didn’t have a body. Well, he had the outline of one: four limbs, a torso, and what he presumed was a head atop his shoulders, but none of it was made of flesh, bone, or skin. Instead, he was primarily comprised of a dark, opaque substance that occasionally flickered up like flame, or slid down like water, only to come back to him a moment later. And it was all outlined with a thin, white line that helped him to find his exact dimensions against the dark, speckled light of his surroundings.
“Okay... this is pretty cool, but also fucking weird. Did I die or something?”
Damien tried turning around, and found it surprisingly easy. Curious, he tried twisting his body in different directions, only to realize that wasn’t really working for him. It was like being a toddler all over again, only he had even less control. How had he moved before? He’d kinda just thought about it and-
“Whoa!” he shot up at alarming speeds, stars slowly drifting down as he moved upwards, coming to a stop that was just as sudden as his start. Okay. So... the key was intent? That was odd. But it probably made sense. There wasn’t any ground to latch onto, so maneuvering a fully three-dimensional space without the limitations of gravity would take some getting used to.
“Guess I’ll have to practice that,” Damien said to himself. “Not like I have anything else to do. Also, I’m talking to myself. That... probably isn’t a great sign.”
Oh well. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Figure out how to navigate wherever the fuck he was, or start speaking his thoughts aloud. Sure, he did that back on earth, but that was when he was working out an idea. If he spoke to himself and expected an answer, then he was probably going crazy.
“Moving around it is.”
Damien wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Not really. There was a sense that it was, in fact, passing, but there was no reference for exactly how long he had been here. Eventually, floating through this great, nameless expanse became so commonplace for him that it was a bit like walking. Now he needed to find something to do with this newfound power. Yay.
“... guess I could... look for something?”
That seemed best. It wasn’t as though he had anything better to do. So, without much thought to any consequences therein, Damien shouted into the darkness.
“Hey! Is anyone out here? Hello?”
Despite his expectations, which involved himself somehow listening to the echo of his own voice in the middle of what could only be described as deep space, he got something entirely out of left field. An answer.
“Yes. There is.”
Then, out of the darkness, it emerged. A shape as large as a galaxy turned to face him, with a pair of eyes that blazed into him like twin, violet suns. It was canine in form, with a mane that waved about in an invisible wind, dark, midnight black fur obscuring the stars behind it. The sight of the cosmic-sized wolf caused a rather understandable reaction in Damien.
“Holy fuck!”
“Well, I am not holy in nature but... hmm... where are you from? How did you end up all the way out here?” the wolf asked, looking down at him with a curious gaze. The fact that the wolf was still the size of a galaxy did not help Damien form a suitable answer.
“Holy fuck you’re so big! I can barely see the sky behind you!”
“What?” the wolf seemed confused for a few moments, and then seemed to notice just how large he was. “Ah. My apologies.”
Then, impossibly, the wolf shrunk in size. First to the size of a planet, then to the size of a country, then a city, a building, until it finally settled at about the size of a small house. With that change in size, the wolf became more comprehendible, though still terrifying in his size. His dark fur glistened in the ethereal starlight, his form seeming to lay down on nothing but empty space. His face and snout were long and narrow, like any wolf’s, but seemed infinitely more elegant and dignified than the true, flesh and blood animal. And despite his change in size, and the dimming of their intensity, those same, star-like eyes of amethyst purple stared at him with curiosity and interest that Damien wasn’t sure he was at all prepared for.
“This should suit a conversation far better. Again, I must apologize. It’s been... a long time, since anyone has spoken to me.”
“... well, I’d say I’m surprised, but I don’t imagine you get a lot of visitors... wherever we are. What is this place, anyway? Kinda looks like space.”
The wolf looked about at the void of stars and space dust all around them, chuckling at Damien’s comparison. “I suppose you aren’t wrong. But, while it appears as ‘space’ to you, it is more different in its nature than you can imagine. It is called the Aether. It is simultaneously everything and nothing, all at once. It is the source of all magic, and, by extension, the source of all life. It’s honestly quite fascinating.”
That was more than Damien had been expecting, and the wolf’s answer raised several more questions in turn. “Wait, when you say all life, do you mean...?”
“Yes. All of it. Yours. Mine. Every plant and rock and animal that breathes and grows and lives; it all came from here. From the Aether.”
“That’s... that’s a lot. Wow. I don’t think anyone back home would believe me if I told them... about...”
That was when he remembered his life. His aunt and uncle. Their plans for that day before... before...
“... how long have I been here?” Damien asked, panicking as he suddenly realized that he couldn’t answer that question himself.
“That... is not a question for which there is an easy answer. As I said, the Aether is simultaneously everything and nothing. That means that time within it also works much differently than you are used to. Beings here do not age, and neither does the place. But in the worlds held within the Aether, the concentrated reality of those places makes time stable, allowing it to flow in a manner that is considered normal. As for how much time has passed in the world you came from... I cannot say. Perhaps only moments. Maybe centuries. It is impossible to tell from the outside. But even if we could, it would be nearly impossible to reunite your soul with your original body, if it even still exists. Once a soul exits a vessel for too long, it is impossible to put them back together.”
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Damien reeled at the wolf’s answer. Was that why he hadn’t noticed the passage of time before their conversation had begun? Because the flow of time was unstable? Despite the foreign nature of the concept of an unstable flow of time, it made a startling amount of sense. It lined up with everything he had experienced since showing up here. He wished it didn’t. It shouldn’t, but... what was the alternative? That he was somehow floating through space just by thinking about it? That his body was suddenly made of something he did not know about or understand? That he had gone crazy?
“This is fucking nuts,” he said, running his hands over his head out of habit. Damien had no hair to speak of, and barely felt the presence of his head as it was. “Why... why the fuck am I here? How am I even here?! This makes no sense!”
The wolf waited patiently as Damien’s anger burned itself out. He didn’t feel the physical exertion that typically came with intense emotion, lacking a proper body within the Aether as he did, but eventually, he did calm down. He wasn’t sure how long it took. But he did calm. Then, when he was ready to listen, the wolf answered his question as best he could.
“I might have a slight inclination as to what may have happened to you,” the wolf said. “Sometimes, when worlds come close to one another in the Aether, for even a moment, a bridge might sometimes form between them, sometimes known as an Aetheric Tether. Never for long, and typically never stable enough to bring anything through, but it does happen, once in a while. That ‘while’ can vary drastically, but it certainly isn’t common, as far as I am aware. Still, sometimes, once in an infinitely long time, a soul is dragged through that bridge to... somewhere else. To here. To the Aether. You are rare. Incredibly so. But you are not unknown. You are a Traveler. One of the few. One of the very, very few.”
“... so... you’re saying that the whole reason I’m here isn’t because something dragged me out or a god decided to fuck with some random mortal out of boredom... but because I was in the right place at the right time for a cosmic coincidence to steal my soul?”
“I am afraid so.”
Damien was silent once more as he processed the wolf’s words. The admittance to the fact that his being here was little more than an accident. Then, he began to laugh. It was not of mirth, or spite, or even sorrow. He laughed because it was the only thing he could really think of doing. It was a sick joke. A sick, stupid joke, that just when he had resolved to make the choice to start letting people into his life again, the universe had gone and invalidated almost immediately. And so, he laughed. He laughed, because if he didn’t, he would either scream, or weep. And neither were quite as pleasant.
It took him a while to calm down from the laughing fit. It may have dissolved slightly into hidden sobs, but he paid that fact no mind. Damien spoke up a while later, when the silence started to weigh on him. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I... this is all a whole lot. I’m apparently dead, I can’t go back home, and everything I know about how the universe is either terrifyingly inadequate or undeniably wrong. Thanks for putting up with it. And talking to me. This is nice. Just talking to someone.”
The wolf nodded at him in agreement. “Indeed. It has been... a long time since I have had a proper conversation. Even one as unusual as this.”
He was silent for what seemed a few moments before he spoke once more, as though he were hesitating. “I do have an idea. Though it is... well, it’s not something that I have done in recent memory. But I can do it.”
Damien considered the wolf’s suggestion for a few moments before shrugging. “Go ahead and tell me. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”
The wolf nodded, and explained what he had thought of. “You cannot return to your old body. That much is as certain as stone. But I have more than enough power to send you to a world I have ties to, on a magical level. It is a wondrous place with things that may be both familiar and unfamiliar in many ways. Considering your lack of knowledge regarding the Aether and magic in general, I suppose it will more often be the latter than the former. And there are dangers there as well. Many different people trying to get by, to live their lives in the best way they can. Monsters from the deepest corners of the Aether that come out to devour all that is. And evils that can only be brought about by those who can think and feel and hate. It likely won’t be anything close to your old life... but it will be a life. If you choose to take it.”
Damien slowly leaned back, letting the weightlessness of the Aether hold him aloft as he thought it over. Sure, it would be a life to lead, but it would also be one fraught with danger and turmoil. At least, that was the sense that he was getting. It probably wasn’t something he was even remotely prepared for. Looking back on everything from the quiet eternity of the Aether, his life had been relatively uneventful. Quite boring, even. And that life would have continued to be boring. Even after the death of his parents, life had kept trucking on, uncaring for his pain. Because life was like that. Neutral in all ways except one. That it ended. And in the end, no matter who you were, everyone ended up in the ground someday.
Still, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t tried to be extraordinary. Everyone did, to some extent. But the cruel reality of those dreams was that some people were simply luckier, more talented, or were far more diligent than almost everyone else. Damien had been none of those. He had wanted to be a writer, or an actor, or maybe even a movie director. All things he had wanted to pursue, in one form or another. But those dreams had never born fruit. They’d never had the chance. And now, they never would. Even if it would have been an exercise in pointlessness, he’d still wanted to try. To try, and see how far he got. How ironic that the choice had been taken from him before he’d even taken the first proper step, along with the little family he’d had left.
That thought stirred something in him. Something that he had yet to feel since the death of his parents. Not a grief at their passing, or sadness at their absence, or even the melancholic state he fell into as a way to shield his own heart from pain. It was rage. Real, genuine rage. Not an uncontrollable, heavy thing that overrode all sense and reason like the roided-up anger of an action movie hero, but a calm, steady thing that made everything sharper, that brought the injustice of the situation into sharp relief.
And he realized... he did not want this to be the end. He didn’t want his final destination to be a curse to wander the Aether forever, unable to know how much time had passed, to forget himself and his own name. Even if the wolf was a pleasant partner for conversation, there was so much about the place that he could not understand. So, while it would not be the life he had imagined having, nor possibly even a life he would want... as the wolf had said, it would still be a life. And he was not going to let some cosmic coincidence spell out his end. He would not have it. He refused to let that be the final chapter of his story. A story that had yet to truly begin.
“... I want that,” Damien admitted. “A chance. A life. Even if it’s hard... it’s better than staying still for the rest of eternity. Go ahead. I’ll take you up on that.”
The wolf nodded. “Feel free to be silent on the topic, but I must ask... why? I understand why I am making this offer. But why do you wish to accept it?”
“Because otherwise, that means accepting a stupid and coincidental death. Accepting that I’m nothing. That I’m worthless. And maybe I did act that way, in life. Even if it wasn’t true, I acted like I was. But that’s not who I want to be. Not anymore. So, if this is really a second chance... then I’m going to do my damnedest to make something of myself. And maybe... maybe that’ll be enough.”
The wolf chuckled in mirth and excitement at his answer. “Perhaps not the most complex answer... but a personal one. And that matters far more than the complexity of one’s motivation. I hope you are prepared. Your second chance awaits you.”
Despite his lack of a mouth in the Aether, Damien smiled. He could feel excitement tingling throughout his entire form, his hands tightening to fists as he readied for whatever the wolf had planned to begin. His form rose to all fours, the darkness of his fur gleaming against starlight as he began to pad around Damien’s form, leaving glowing, stylized runes that glowed a steady, vibrant purple as he made a wide circle around him.
“The world you shall appear within is called Xaunis. It is as I described before. You’ll appear in one of my old circles. It will be relatively safe, though it is likely to be long since abandoned by now, and you will awake to find yourself alone. I shall guide you to one who has power similar to the nature of my own, to teach you what you will need to survive. Other than that, you will be on your own. It will be your life. And after this is done, I will have no say over it.
“... you know, it’s odd, really,” the wolf said as he continued, slowly only slightly before going on with the creation of his runic circle. “You remind me of myself, back when I was just a pup. Not much, but a bit. I didn’t want to be worthless either. So, in the spirit of that, I have some parting words for you.”
He stopped moving as the circle was completed, turning to look at Damien with all the intensity of those twin violet stars. “If someone tries to make you feel less than yourself, to take you down a peg and make themselves seem more than you could possibly hope to be... let those words fuel you. Let the pain anger you. Use them as stepping stones to rise further than anyone ever thought possible. Prove them all wrong. And when you do... make them regret those words without mercy.”
The circle began to glow as something within Damien resonated with the words. Like they were something he had heard before, and hadn’t understood until this moment. He would not be heartless in his pursuit to make himself great. It just wasn’t in him, even now. But he would be forever determined to prove wrong any who looked down upon him.
“I will. Thank you,” he said. Then, he realized something rather funny. “I don’t even know your name, and you’re giving me this second chance at a life. It’s... pretty surreal.”
The wolf chuckled along as the runes continued to glow brighter and brighter. “To be fair, I do not know yours either. Though I am powerful, I am afraid that does not grant me the ability to see within the minds of others. I believe having such a power within the Aether would quickly drive one mad.”
“I can see that. Still, I think I owe you my name, at least. I’m Damien. Damien Sinclair. It’s been nice talking to you.”
The wolf seemed to smile at him, filled with genuine warmth, and even a trace of fondness. “Well, since you were so kind, it is only fair that I do the same. I am called... Noctis. Though others know me more formally as The Night Wolf. Now, with that done... take care, Damien Sinclair. And good luck.”
And without another word, Damien Sinclair was swept away from the boundless expanse of the Aether to another, far more wondrous and dangerous world than the one of his origin. But it was a chance. And he would gladly take it.