After the initial shock passed both Steve and Katie reacted. He looked around in search of danger while Katie gasped, her voice quivering as she exclaimed, “My god! What happened to him? It's as if he was thrust through a meat grinder.” Katie blurted out, her hand instinctively covering her mouth in shock.

“If I saw only the body, I would guess grizzly attack, but the surroundings are just too, peculiar,” Steve responded as he walked towards the body.

Katie followed suit, and the two knelt on both sides of what now was evident to be a young male. The scene, viewed up close, was even more ghastly. She was planning to go into medicine, like her mother and grandmother, so she had looked up injuries, some very heavy and disturbing, in preparation for what she would one day have to face. Despite all that, she barely managed to hold down her breakfast at the sight. The majority of the wounds comparatively seemed small and shallow. However, deep and large enough to typically warrant a trip to the emergency room for stitches, and he bore hundreds of them. Additionally, his hands were mangled, the injuries irregular and inexplicable. Moreover, there was a puncture on his arm thicker than her thumb, and a tear on his thigh, so substantial that the bone beneath was visible.

‘There is no way anyone could survive this! Not even if they are in the OR right now. The blood loss would be so severe that the surgeons wouldn’t have time to stitch up…’ Katie mused, only for her grandfather's next words to halt her train of thought.

“He has a pulse,” Declared her grandpa from across her.

“What! Impossible!” Katie exclaimed and immediately moved to check for herself. ‘He truly does! And it’s a steady slow rhythm as if he is asleep not cut up and left for dead,’ she thought, shocked.

“We need to get him to a hospital,” Steve commented as he pulled his phone. “Huh. Strange. My phone is dead. Call emergency services, they need to send a chopper immediately.”

Katie instinctively followed the instruction, her mind still reeling from the previous realization. However, when she looked down, she found only the black screen of an unresponsive phone.

“Mine isn’t working either. I swear it was at 100% when we left!”

“I don’t like this. This situation is too bizarre. I guess we should take him down ourselves, but with such wounds, he is unlikely to survive another minute let alone what would be necessary to get him to a hospital. Maybe we should leave him as he is and get the cops here?” Steve asked no one, trying to decide the best course of action. Fate, however, chose to use his words and the following scene to taunt his grasp on reality.

“Grandpa! Look!” Katie exclaimed and pointed at the leg next to him. As she diverted her gaze from her malfunctioning phone, yet another oddity unfolded before her eyes. “His thigh is regenerating!”

In a mesmerized trance, the pair observed as the gaping wound on the leg began to seal at a discernible pace. Within half a minute, the thigh appeared whole once more. Subsequently, the puncture on his bicep commenced its own healing process.

“Impossible!” breathed out Steve.

“This is like something out of a movie! There was this mutant that could heal but… But this is reality! There are no such things!” Katie argued, trying to wrap her mind around the surreal spectacle that unfolded before her eyes.

Entranced, the two sat and observed the body as yet another hole was closing up. Katie even ran her hands over the previously injured area to ensure she wasn't suffering from hallucinations. Indeed, the wound she had witnessed moments earlier was now gone, not even a scar to betray its former existence. She then reassessed his pulse, finding it as steady and tranquil as before.

A sense of acceptance washed over her as she acknowledged his lack of mortal danger, affording her the clarity to divert her focus from the injuries and scrutinize the individual lying before her.

‘Exquisite!’ was the first word that came to mind as she stared at his face. It was a youthful face, in the process of outgrowing the childish features hinting at the man it would become, with a symmetry that was disturbingly perfect. A strong jawline, full lips, sharp eyebrows, and a prominent nose contributed to his allure. His hair was long, straight, and snow-white, or at least what wasn’t marred by blood and other filth. That is when she realized that he had an unnaturally pallid complexion as if today was his first day under the sun.

‘Probably due to the blood loss,’ Katie conjectured.

With some effort, she traced her gaze downward, doing her best to ignore the rags, blood, and torn flesh. Wherever she looked she saw taut muscles. His form wasn’t large, roughly her own height but unlike her, there was no fat to hide the well-defined muscles beneath. Every contour of his body was chiseled, a body she was used to seeing only in top athletes. When she reached his nether regions she quickly moved on, feeling her cheeks flush at the intrusive thought that popped up.

‘Come on Katie! This is hardly the right time,’ she chastised herself, only to notice the apparent reduction in the leg’s size. ‘Strange.’

“I think we should take him back home and call the authorities from there. Let’s hope the phones work,” Steve spoke finally, standing up and heading back to his backpack, forgotten at the edge of the unnatural clearing. “I will go chop two large sticks for a stretcher. Think you can get him in the sleeping bag?” he asked, looking at her from above.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll get right on it,” Katie answered as she peeled her eyes off the boy and got up to do so.

What followed was a flurry of activity and within minutes the two were back on their feet walking in the direction of the path they had left not long ago. The only difference was the body carried between them.

When they returned to the beaten path Katie had enough of her focus spared from the treacherous forest floor to give him another look. What she saw nearly caused her to trip over her own feet. The robust musculature she had admired just minutes earlier had markedly diminished, leaving him resembling a starved individual enduring weeks of deprivation.

“Grandpa! Something is wrong! We need to hurry up!” Katie yelled, her voice tinged with panic.

Steve cast a backward glance over his shoulder and after just a few moments noticed the difference and frowned even more. Suddenly he was running, and Katie was wobbling after him, pulled by the stretcher she was holding. With their frantic pace, it took them half as long to reach home.

Moments after they exited the forest Emily was rushing out of the house, her countenance etched with concern.

“What happened? Are you okay?” she asked when they neared her.

“We are fine honey, nothing to worry about,” Steve quickly assured, as he and Katie lowered the stretcher to the ground. He stood tall while she crumbled breathing raggedly. “However, we found this boy up in the woods, covered in terrible wounds, so we had to cut our trek short,” he explained but Emily was already kneeling and peeling the sleeping bag.

“My god! Is all that blood his?”

“Does he have a pulse?” asked Katie as she gathered herself and struggled to a kneeling position.

Emily quickly picked up the boy’s bony wrist, “Yes. But it makes no sense!”

“That’s the thing. None of this makes sense. He was in a horrible condition, riddled with hundreds of wounds I can’t even begin to explain. I remember thinking even in an OR with a full team of surgeons he would have died. Yet his pulse was calm and steady as it must be now and stranger still, his wounds spontaneously healed on their own. Only, for him to start shrinking. He looked like a bodybuilder before and now… Look at him, he is almost gone,” Katie shared full of worry.

“It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” added Steve.

“Alright,” responded Emily, still confused. “Let’s get him into the large bathroom, clean him up, and see if there are any wounds left,” With that said, Emily rose, only to find Katie getting up alongside her. “Katie, why don’t you go in the upstairs bathroom and clean up? You look almost as rough as him.”

“But Grandma, I wanna help!”

“I know dear but me and Grandpa got this.”

“Oh, come on! When else am I gonna get to...” Katie trailed off as she realized what she was asking, her cheeks flushing crimson.

“What about the cops and EMS?” Steve interjected, saving Katie from some of the embarrassment.

“Didn’t you call them?”

“We tried but our phones were dead. Also, there is more of this strangeness that I should tell you about.” Steve commented as the two picked up the boy.

“I don’t think we should call them. We should talk first,” cut in Katie as she followed them in.

“Talk? Talk about what?” asked Steve furrowing his brows and throwing her a look.

“We both know something odd is going on here. Can you trust me on this? I believe it would be best, for us, and for him.” Katie implored. Steve looked at her and was about to say something when Emily cut him off.

“Not the time to argue! We’ll talk after we make sure he will live,” she spoke authoritatively, her experience as head nurse showing, as they made their way into the large bathroom.

Katie watched them go in and then rushed upstairs, eager to be done first. She took a quick shower and then as she was leaving her room she thought of the boy’s ruined clothes and picked one of her pajamas. When she got downstairs, she found the two still busy in the bathroom, so she knocked, opened the door, and without peeking dropped the clothes inside. With nothing left to do, she sat at the kitchen table, waiting, and thinking.

A few minutes later the two came out, with Steve holding him in a princess carry and walking towards the couch. Meanwhile Emily wrapped the bloody sleeping bag in a bin bag, and then washed her hands. The boy looked starved but asleep, rather than bloody, and at death’s door. Seeing him dressed in her pajamas made her smile. Despite his gaunt face, cheekbones protruding sharply, he still looked cute and innocent, a stark contrast to his previous visage.

“How is he?” asked Katie as her grandparents approached the kitchen table and sat.

“There are no visible wounds anywhere. Judging by his pulse and pupil dilation he is not in a coma, likely a deep sleep. Probably out of the woods considering what you found in the mountain and what we have on the couch now,” Emily answered as the two sat down.

“Okay. What is this about?” asked Steve, his serious face on, his gaze firmly on Katie.

“Is Grandma up to speed?” she asked, hiding her discomfort from his intensity.

“Yes. I’ve told her what we found in as much detail as I could.”

“Great. Let’s go through the list of weird shit we saw,” began Katie.

“Language,” Emily chided half-heartedly, fully aware that the phrase was an apt description in this situation.

“Sorry, but not sorry. Today's been the weirdest day of my life, so forgive me for letting loose. Anyways. First, there was the sound, like an explosion or an impact. Then the gust of wind hit us. After that, we found the charred ground, an almost perfect circle of destruction. Looked like a meteor hit, but instead, we found a body. Let’s call that exhibit A. Then there's the body itself, covered in more blood and wounds than I've ever seen, even in movies. Only to find that despite the boy’s horrible state, he's got a steady pulse like it's no big deal. That would be exhibit B. Next, we found out our phones decided to take a nap! Despite us being very careful to have them charged and ready in case of an emergency when we go into the mountains. Exhibit C. Finally, the guy’s wounds start healing freakishly fast while cannibalizing his muscles, exhibit D. None of this screams 'normal,' which means calling the cops might not cut it. With me so far?”

“Yes, but barely. I still find your story too fantastic to be real. If anyone else had claimed something like this… But the blood, and few wounds I saw healing myself, as well as the current state of the body demand for me to take you seriously. Anyways, my own reservations aside, I feel like you have some ideas as to what is going on and what we should do?” Emily urged.

“I don’t know, but I sure have ideas. Let’s face it, normal logic fails to explain this. We need to think outside the box. As the resident expert on fantastic movies and books, I would suggest one of three possible scenarios. One, he is a super soldier who escaped some top-secret facility. That would explain the wounds and how they healed so insanely fast, but not the site where we found him. Option two, he is an alien that crash-landed on our planet. Explains everything except how exactly he crashed here. I mean he should have a spaceship or something. Or at least whatever allowed him to land without turning into nothing but a blood stain. Oh, also, why would an alien look so human? Shouldn’t he be green with a big head or something? Lastly, he is an angel who fell from heaven. Explains everything including his otherworldly looks.” Katie shot, taking a few deep breaths, and looking at her grandparents. They looked both shocked and a bit amused.

“Otherworldly looks, huh?” Mumbled Steve only to receive an unexpected response from Emily.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t notice. I’ve seen plenty of movie stars but even I find his face unnervingly attractive, despite his emaciated state. Add his original muscular form, and I am not surprised a teenager flushed with hormones would think like that,” commented Emily with a matter of fact voice.

“Grandma!” came Katie’s protest. After taking another breath to steady her suddenly racing heart, Katie continued, “I don’t know what we should do. However, I know, from movies, that the insignificant people who find the top-secret, ‘thing’, are quick to disappear or find themselves in an accident.”

“Come on dear. You cannot seriously believe that! It’s just a movie trope for dramatic effect,” protested Steve but concern had replaced the previous jovial look.

“I know of a few whistleblowers that can’t be found, so I am not willing to exclude the possibility. The government needs to keep us under control or chaos will erupt. I recognize that most of the time that is a good thing but sometimes… Sometimes the price for our collective safety is the sacrifice of the few. Imagine what would happen if he were an alien or something and the world found out. I mean, people go crazy just from rumors. What’s left if real-life proof appears?”, Katie asked, not expecting a response, then added, “Don’t get me started on the panic a super-soldier or an angel would bring. I think those would be worse in many ways.”.

“Alright, let’s say we don’t call the authorities. That doesn’t mean they don’t know,” protested Steve.

“It's been half an hour since we found him. There would have been men in black suits swarming the place if they knew. Or soon there will be choppers flying by. It's possible that he somehow crash-landed without raising any alarms. That brings me to Exhibit, um, I don’t remember, the dead phones. One thing in fiction that explains that is an EMP, an electromagnetic pulse. My phone is still refusing to turn on even after charging it during my shower. Therefore, it’s possible for us three to be the only humans who know of him,” Katie argued.

The three turned and looked at the unconscious form of the boy. After a few moments, Steve spoke up.

“If we can’t call the authorities, we are left with two choices. Hide him here or move him somewhere far away and leave this headache for someone else to deal with. I definitely like the latter option better, despite the moral side of things. This just feels too dangerous!”

“I think we should keep him here. Think about it. He can heal rapidly and survive what no human should be able to. Maybe if we help him, he will help us. That is another common trope in movies. I sure as hell would like to see Mom healthy again,” Katie spoke with fervor, failing to restrain the hope that seeped into her voice. Knowing they needed a few moments to take in the possibility, she remained quiet, observing them.

The seconds ticked until finally, Emily turned towards Steve and asked him, “What would you do, what would you sacrifice, to see our daughter healthy again? I for one am willing to do just about anything.”

“You know the answer to that question!” Steve heatedly responded. “However, I worry that keeping him here will put you and Katie in danger. As much as I would love to see Rachel healthy again, I am not willing to sacrifice either of you. His wounds were definitely from some kind of confrontation. He could be more dangerous than we can imagine!” Steve argued but the unexpected question had stolen some of his previous fervor.

“Well, nothing ventured nothing gained. I say we keep him at least until we understand what is going on,” Katie responded and raised her hand.

“This is not a democracy, young lady! If I say it’s too dangerous, he…,” began Steve only to be cut off by Emily raising her hand.

“I think that she has the right to make this choice. It’s her mother after all. It’s two to one honey. Unless you have some serious arguments against, other than a potential danger, I say we keep him until we figure out what is going on.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Steve looked between the two women and seeing their resolute faces, breathed out and slumped back in his chair.

“Fine. But we are going to be careful and take some precautions,” He relented.

After a few minutes of discussing their next course of action, they moved the boy into the empty guest room and with trepidation went on with their day. However, all three of them stayed within earshot, waiting nervously for any signs of him waking up.

Melar regained consciousness and immediately became alert. The pain that had tormented him moments ago was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of weakness that made even the slightest movement challenging. He felt tired and fragile but otherwise fine as if the struggles and fears of the previous days were just a nightmare. However, as soon as he opened his eyes, he knew it was not a figment of his imagination. The room he found himself in wasn’t the one in his home or the academy. Judging by the strange style of his surroundings he was somewhere he had never been before.

Lying in a sizable bed, Melar faced a window ahead, dim light streaming in. Beneath it was a desk and a chair. To the left was another window and a tall wardrobe, while to the right was a door and several boxes stacked in the corner as well as a dresser. He tried to lift his arm to push the covers away but failed. They were too heavy to move.

‘I must be weaker than I thought.’ he mused inwardly. Struggling, he managed to free his hand from under the covers, only to be confronted with a sight that filled him with horrified disbelief.

‘Weak doesn’t come even close!’ He thought as he observed the skeletal hand that he barely recognized as his own even after flexing his fingers gingerly. After the initial shock subsided, Melar pieced together the clues and surmised the cause.

‘I was healed but whoever did it, failed to consider the nutritional demands my numerous wounds would have.’

With the realization sinking in, he dropped his hand, the exertion of even such minimal movement taxing his almost non-existent arm muscles. With his body evaluated he turned his focus inwards, to his Mindscape, where he encountered yet another unpleasant surprise. All his spell matrices were gone, along with a significant portion of his cultivation base. His Mind Cultivation in particular had been decimated, nullifying years of diligent effort.

‘This doesn't make sense. Only I should be able to manipulate my cultivation. Unless..." Melar quickly brushed aside the unsettling thought, opting not to dwell on frightening possibilities without sufficient evidence. Taking a few calming breaths, he resolved to focus on his immediate circumstances.

‘I am alive. Sure, there have been some, complications, but with time and effort, they can be resolved. No need to get flustered. More importantly, I need to figure out where I am and whose home this is.’

Melar channeled energy from his soul into his body, using most of his Will to compensate for his crippled cultivation, restoring enough strength to move. He pushed the covers and stared startled at the peculiar animal motif adorning his clothing.

‘What a funny-looking creature! I’ve never seen or heard of such an animal.’

It was black with a white tummy and short legs, drawn in a cute style, clearly meant for a child’s clothing.

‘I wonder what the meaning behind putting me in these clothes is?’

Setting aside the thought for later consideration, Melar crossed the room to gaze outside the window without a desk. The fading light revealed the silhouette of mountains to his right, partially obscuring the setting sun. Adjacent to the house, a small single-story building indicated his position on the second floor. To the left, a valley stretched out, with distant mountains still illuminated by the fading daylight.

His newfound awareness of his surroundings provided a modicum of comfort, allowing him to remain composed as the door clicked open. Turning to face his visitor, Melar beheld a young girl, with light auburn hair and matching eyes full of curiosity. With delicate features including a button-like nose and rounded lips, her face exuded a natural charm. However, her beauty was marred by signs of poor health. Dark circles under her eyes and sickly skin told a tale of suffering that seemed to offer no respite, even in the quiet of the night.

[Grandpa! Grandma! He’s awake!] she suddenly yelled over her shoulder. Moments later, two adults arrived and pushed their way to the front, their defensiveness apparent to Melar’s experienced eyes.

At the forefront was a man of imposing stature and advanced age, with greying hair, a well-trimmed beard, and deep-set blue eyes. His face was homely, and his stern and threatening expression seemed awkward. He was holding some kind of weapon, judging by how he was clutching it while shielding the two females with his body. Right behind him was an old woman, the man’s partner perhaps, observing Melar. She was petite and slender but exuded strength and vitality, despite being of age. She had light brown hair tied in a bun, warm brown eyes, and a pleasant face. She appeared less fearful and more concerned as if he wasn’t a stranger but a distant relative.

‘These are no captors! They seem like ordinary folk who must have found me. The man’s weapon is peculiar, but its design betrays its requirements for usage. He needs to point it to hurt me and even in my current state and with no sourcery, I bet I could kill him before he can act. The women would be even easier to tear apart… Silence! Now is not the time,’ Melar growled to the unbidden thoughts and immediately forced himself to calmness. Non-awakened were a far better option than what his panicking mind had suggested a while ago.

‘First impressions are important. I better do this right!’

Melar moved. He kept his eyes on them but made sure to release the tension in his muscles. He took slow and steady steps and when he was standing in front of them next to the bed he greeted them by taking a deep bow.

“Greetings. I am grateful for your assistance, and I assure you, I mean you no harm.” He straightened up and offered them a reassuring smile. “Could you tell me where I am?” Alas, their response was unexpected.

[Katie, any idea what language that is? I’ve never heard it before.] the large man rumbled, his gaze never leaving Melar.

[No idea,] responded the young girl. [Grandma pass me your phone. Let's see if technology can help us.] The old woman passed some kind of small device and after tapping it a few times the girl stepped behind the old man holding the device as close to Melar as possible without actually getting near.

[Could you say something?]

‘I have never encountered this language before. Without my sourcery, I have no way to understand them,’ worried Melar, wondering how to handle the situation, as the silence stretched.

“I do not understand you,“ Melar articulated, gesturing to his ears and shaking his head in an attempt to convey negation.

The peculiar device emitted a response in their language and the girl looked at the lights it emitted before shaking her head. [It doesn’t recognize the language. Either it’s a language that it doesn’t have in its database, or he’s speaking a language foreign to Earth.]

Her words prompted a reaction from the older couple, one of surprise and uncertainty, even a hint of fear.

“I mean you no harm,” Melar hastily reassured, though he struggled to find a way to convey it with gestures. After a few moments, he raised his hands in a claw-like form with a fierce expression. An attempt to mimic malevolence before quickly retracting them and shaking his head once more. Then, feeling his energy dwindle, he sat down heavily on the bed.

“I am grateful for helping me,” he repeated, but before he was able to mime that particular idea, his stomach rumbled. “I am also quite hungry. Could you maybe give me something to eat?” He pointed at his mouth and then his belly, adopting a pitiful expression typically reserved for entertaining children.

[Hihihi,] giggled the girl, the sudden tinkling sound cut through the agitation in the air. The tense atmosphere suddenly dissolved as all eyes turned toward her.

[Sorry, sorry. I just couldn’t help it. I mean, him in my penguin pajamas, trying to look menacing almost got me but that face at the end was simply too much. Grandpa, I don’t think we need to worry about him, at least for now. Maybe if we feed him for a while and he is capable of moving for more than a minute. Who knows? If we don’t feed him, he might find us appetizing enough to try something,] she said giggling once more only to receive a stern look from the man.

[That is not funny Kate! For all we know, he could turn on us in an instant. Don’t joke with these things,] the man spoke sternly, but his heart wasn’t into it for some reason.

[Alright. I am sorry. But to me, he seems like a boy in need of help and compassion, not fear and aggression.] responded the girl.

[I agree. I’ll go grab a plate of dinner,] chimed in the old woman and then left the room.

[Bring some for me too!]

[You’re gonna eat with him?] grumbled the man.

[I am just trying to make friends. Isn’t that what you always encourage me to do?]

[Yes, but not with someone like him!] complained the man but the girl was already approaching Melar. He found the whole interaction confusing, choosing to simply observe.

As she drew close, she smiled and proceeded to rearrange the pillows before, with some urging and pointing, assisting Melar into a sitting position. The actions made the man tense up, but he didn’t attempt to stop her, yet didn’t move from his position and readiness to act. Once Melar was settled, she brought the desk chair and positioned herself beside the bed.

[Katie,] the girl pointed at her chest then she pointed at Melar, waiting invitingly with a smile.

‘That must be her name.’ he deduced and responded with his own.

Then the girl introduced the old man as Steve, and soon after, the old lady as Emily, who entered with a tray of steaming food. On her way out, she tugged at Steve, and when he hesitated, murmured something that got him moving, though not without throwing a warning look at Melar.

Despite the extra effort eating required, the meal was satisfying. It was an unfamiliar dish but very delicious and filling. Long strings that tasted plain served as a base, but the generous amounts of meat and red sauce complimented it perfectly. When he finally finished, Katie picked up their plates and left him. He noted how she left the door ajar, making him wonder about his circumstances. However, before he could dwell on it for long, she returned with a book in hand. As she came in, she flicked a small switch on the wall, bathing the room in warm light, streaming from a small object on the ceiling.

Melar recalled the peculiar square object from earlier, too preoccupied at the time with reading the individuals before him, to pay it much attention. That and the sudden illumination caused excitement to surge within him.

‘They have sourcery too! Although it looks nothing like what I am used to, it’s still a good sign. Perhaps I am at a colony not far from my world!’

[You're fortunate I have this. My grandma is a book lover and has kept all the books she ever bought me. Now, let’s see if we can get you to learn some English. One of us needs to bridge the language barrier and I don't think I'm up for it, judging by what little I heard of yours. Let’s hope you are,] Katie remarked as she sat back down on her chair. Opening the book and turning it so he could see it, she smiled and pointed at a symbol then a drawing of something resembling a Tartar fruit. [A. Apple.]

‘Oh! This is just too precious! Not only are they sheltering and feeding me, but she also intends to teach me their language. I don’t know if I should be elated with my fortune or worried at the convenience of it all! Either way, I better play nice and study hard. I need information!’ Melar gleefully thought, offering her his most charming smile before echoing after her.

[Well done! It sounded perfect. Now, the next one. B. Balloon.] The girl moved on to the next pair.

Like this Melar found himself in a strange room, with a strange girl, studying a strange language, while his body and mind were in the most unusual of states. Despite these peculiar circumstances he narrowed his focus, letting go of the unnecessary worries of the future in favor of the crucial present, a skill developed through his many adventures. Thus, he meticulously replicated every sound and committed it to memory along with every symbol and image.

Katie swiftly flipped through the whole book and when she came back to the first pages again, Melar responded unprompted.

“A. Apple. B Balloon. C. Cat. D. Dog.”

[Wow. This might be easier than expected,] Katie murmured before proceeding to quiz him on all the letters in a random order, to which he dutifully responded without error.

[I reckon you could keep going. You don’t seem to be struggling. Still. Considering the day I’ve had being around you I can’t begin to imagine the day you must be having! I’ll leave you to your rest. I promise to have something more than a children’s book ready for our language lessons tomorrow.] With that said Katie smiled and turned to leave, giving him a wave before turning the lights off and locking the door after herself.

‘I am not a prisoner. I could easily jump out the window, but they locked the door. A stranger in their home is understandably a cause for concern. Or maybe things are not very peaceful around here, hence their reservations,’ Melar mused as he gazed at the closed door, still hearing the family move around the house.

He got up and, using the walls and furniture for support, completed his exploration of the room. There was one more door that led to a small space that he quickly identified as a space for his private needs. It took him a moment to adjust to the strange amenities, but everything was straightforward enough not to give him trouble, albeit piquing his curiosity regarding the sourcery they employed to power it. Soon, his body began protesting his arduous meanderings and so he laid back in bed, closed his eyes, and sank his awareness into his Mindscape.

Melar’s Will condensed into his avatar, the subconscious representation of his self. Only it looked like his healthy self and not his decrepit body, dressed in close-fitted black attire with a drawn hood, reminiscent of his usual garb when he had explored his world.

‘This will take such a long time to fix,’ Melar lamented as he observed the ruins of his cultivation. After a deep breath, an action of comfort rather than utility, he moved to inspect the damages up close.

Melar’s Mindscape was simplicity and efficiency incarnate. At least it used to be. Now only remnants remained. Within the vast black empty void, thousands upon thousands of golden threads were woven into the vestiges of what used to be a massive structure.

At the center, an almost intact sphere could be seen, a jumble of golden conduits that hid a complex order beneath the illusion of chaos—from a few of its sides torn remnants jutted out, suggesting connections now gone. This was the construct that connected directly to his soul, the first circle of his soul cultivation, in Melar’s case a sphere.

Far from that core, separated by emptiness, another sphere far larger but also not as thickly woven remained, floating in space unperturbed. Vast patches were missing but enough remained to hint at its past shape and what function it had served, the second circle of his Mind cultivation.

Directly across from the gaps golden bridges stretched into the depths of the void, their end somewhere out there, hidden by distance and limited perception.

Whatever had wreaked destruction was centered around his spell matrices, for none of them remained. From there it had used the connections of his Mind Cultivation to propagate. Two spheres were directly connected to his spells, now gone along with them, the second sphere of his soul and the first sphere of his mind.

He began the deeper evaluation of the damages from the core of his being, the soul. A grey sphere, that leaked golden energy endlessly, made up of all the experiences he had ever had, a record of who he was. Deep within, he knew, was the divine spark that granted him consciousness and Will to move and act as he wished.

Standing before his soul, Melar observed, ‘It’s far darker than I am accustomed to. No wonder I am experiencing destructive urges like the one earlier. Killing the family would be utter stupidity. I need to find ways to restore balance.’ After a few more moments of quiet scrutiny, he moved outwards, stopping above the almost whole sphere that surrounded his soul.

‘I guess if I had to choose what to sacrifice and what to keep, I would have made the same choices. Keeping the first soul sphere to boost my soul’s energy generation and the larger of the two mind spheres would be the best option. Without the intermittent spheres, I would need to use my Will far more to use my energy. However, the worst issues would be addressed, energy generation and storage.’ He allowed himself a few moments to grieve for the countless hours of cultivation and work he had poured into what was now gone.

‘I was thinking about making improvements down the line. I guess circumstances are encouraging me to do it sooner rather than later. I’ve learned quite a bit since I first set things up and should be able to add at least a 20% improvement. But first I need to patch things up!’

Without a moment of delay, he got to work, focusing on his soul cultivation. His Will returned to formlessness and surrounded the core, beginning absorption of the energy that kept emitting from his soul. When the process was stabilized and required very little of his focus, he moved the rest of his Will to the next task.

‘These will serve me better as fuel right now, despite the loss of energy,’ Melar thought and began unraveling the jagged remnants of the bridges that had connected the first and second spheres. The solid golden conduits dissolved into gaseous energy, which he promptly employed to mend the gaps in the sphere, slowly restoring its functionality.

The work was long and difficult. Cultivation heavily relied on extended focus and precise actions, often combined with mind-boggling calculations and intuition. Not only was it an arduous process but also very time-consuming. Hence why, so few became powerful sourcerers before their lives expired. Such work was against human nature and many faltered and found more ‘exciting’ and ‘easy’ things to occupy their time with.

While Melar was focused deep within, his body was resting and digesting the nutrients of his meal. An automatic process of rebuilding was ongoing, based on the blueprints encoded in each cell by his first level of bodily cultivation.

Meanwhile, Melar’s physical mind, his brain, was in a trance-like state. The practice was taught to him by his father, and it had replaced most of his sleep. In exchange for extending his ‘sleep’ by a few hours, it offered him almost 100% effective cultivation instead of wasted time. One of the few advantages he had used to be the most promising sourcerer of his generation.

Thanks to the shallowness of the trans a sliver of Will could be left with the senses. Melar was so accustomed to setting it up it had become an automatic, but vital, process. It allowed him to cultivate in semi-secure locations while ensuring he didn’t get surprised by a change in the physical realm.

It was this awareness that warned him of the dawn. The first few rays of light entered his room and pushed the night’s veil of darkness aside. His eyes caught the change and instinctively pulled some of his focus from his Mindscape.

‘Another night spent cultivating. I wonder what the new day will bring. Yesterday morning I was in a jungle, hours away from graduating. Now… Well, now I don’t know, but will surely find out.’ He left a bit more focus on the physical, centered around his hearing, and then continued the ongoing process of repair deep within.

Later, when the girl, Katie, came into the room, Melar chose to remain motionless as if asleep, curious to see her reaction. She left something on a chair, food judging by the smell wafting in, and then left, without locking the door. He could hear her going down the stairs, joining the other two on the first floor.

Not long after, two of them left, the lighter steps suggested it was the females. Moments later some strange sounds reached Melar, muffled by the walls behind him, quickly fading away as their source distanced itself. Steve’s heavy footfalls soon followed, his destination, the small building next to the house. The noise of some kind of work came soon after.

‘I guess I am free to roam but only under a restrained observation from the most mistrustful, or maybe the most violence competent among them.’ His calm rational mind concluded, only for a different part of his psyche to chime in, unbidden.

‘He doesn’t know violence!’ Melar raged. ‘I can have him ripped to shreds, bleeding, in seconds!’ a vicious smile appeared on Melar’s face, the imagery of Steve torn asunder flashing through his mind’s eye, only to be cut off by all of his Will flooding his body. ‘I guess quite a bit of work will be needed to quiet the darkness.’ With a sigh he opened his eyes and got up, heading for his meal.

The tray was full of all kinds of stuff and despite some tasting strange, Melar didn’t allow any of it to go to waste. In his state any nutrients were better than less, so he methodically ate everything they had offered him. Despite having rested for just a single night, his body already felt far stronger than the day before. Nothing close to his usual fitness but enough to have a careful look around.

He left the room and came upon a landing with stairs leading down, and 6 doors including his own. He chose to remain as respectful as possible and didn’t look into any of the rooms. Instead, he headed downstairs entering a vestibule that cut the house in two, with two doors leading outside at its ends. He wandered through a kitchen and living area combined into one room.

Most furniture had clear functionality he was used to, like chairs and tables. However, many seemed strange. Like a black flat box that just sat there, like an empty painting. It was obviously for watching, judging by the soft seating arrangements surrounding it. However, why someone would stare at a black surface was beyond him.

‘Unless they use it as a way of conjuring light shows, like the small rectangular tool Katie used yesterday. Still, it has none of the signs I am used to of such sourcery,’ mused Melar but continued, sure that the mystery would unravel itself in time.

He opened one of the outside doors and found a road of some kind leading into the distance. ‘That must be the way to civilization. The forests and mountains must be on the other side.’

Not interested in meeting any more strangers in his weak state he moved to the other door that led to a large grassy backyard, directly bordering the forest that climbed the skirts of the mountain.

Looking upwards towards the wild nature he easily came to a decision, ‘I don’t want to tangle with their beasts either, so I guess this nice lawn is my destination,’ lying down to bask in the morning sun.

Of course, he didn’t remain idle for long. After a few moments of pleasure brought by the warm rays of light, he switched his perspective and basked in the soft glow of his soul. Just as golden but far more reassuring and useful to him.

His cultivation continued at a steady pace, still a way off from completing the repairs of the first sphere of his soul cultivation but progress had been made over the last 14 hours or so.

At some point Steve found him and after some indecision left Melar alone, entering the house. The first to disturb his peace was the excitable Katie sometime in the late afternoon. Just as he felt the shadows of the mountain nip at his feet her own form hid the sun warming his face.

Melar focused his full Will back into the physical realm and opened his eyes.