Outside the Temple District in the city of Vitesse, an old man sat on a bench.

The gates to the Temple District themselves almost never closed, as everyone in the city was welcome to visit the temples for worship and veneration. During monster surges, the gates were monitored to limit the coming and going of people as the temples tend to have a higher frequency of visitors from all walks of life, high nobility to the meek. There wouldn’t be another monster surge for some time however, as the most recent surge occurred just a few years ago.

The benches outside the gates were made of some kind of limestone, bleached white, and carved in a comfortable rounded fashion. It featured a gentle curve from the seat to the backrest. Despite how hard the limestone was, the contours of their shape allowed people of all sizes to sit in them comfortably.

The old man on the bench was older looking but not quite elderly, sporting a rugged but handsome face, covered in a bushy but well-kept white beard. He wore an oversized tan poncho, covering most of his body in a wavy single layer. He had one leg crossed over the other, opening the draped covering of the poncho to reveal a pair of blue jeans, but no shoes on his feet.

A kid walked over to the man, not really a kid, but young compared to him. Oddly, the kid was also wearing a pair of jeans, a little bit darker than the old man’s along with a long-sleeved gray shirt. The kid had eyes that were sunken in a little bit, with dark circles underneath, suggesting he didn’t get much sleep.

“Mind if I sit with you?” The kid asked the old man, a smirk on his face.

The smirk told the old man a lot about the kid in that moment. It didn’t seem like the kid was hiding anything behind the smirk, there was warmth to it, as if there was an inherent happiness that it originated from. It struck him with a sense of innocence, an innocence that was bereft of naivety. This kid had seen a few things in his life, maybe experienced some horrible episodes. He chose to smile despite his experience, and what came out from that choice was a sly smirk, as if the smirk itself was designed specifically to cut through those evils.

“Not at all.”

The kid sat down, leaving a comfortable amount of space for two strangers on a bench. He seemed to like the bench when he sat down on it, impressed by its comfortability. He interlocked his fingers together resting his hands on his belly as he sunk into the bench, letting his back slouch against its curvature. He watched the roads and the people walking by. He seemed to take in the sights like a tourist, amazed at everything he saw. It wasn’t too long before his eyes caught a glimpse of the old man in his periphery, sporting a pair of blue jeans.

“Hey, nice pants. Thought I was the only one with a pair of those.” The kid said.

“My friend just told me about them. Had to get a pair myself.” The old man replied.

“You get them from Jerry’s then?”

“I believe Jerry has shared the technique with other tailors. Word is: He got the technique from an outworlder. I got mine specially fitted.”

The kid’s eyes lit up as if he was surprised to be wearing pants from another world.

“That is the way to do it. Nothing tops a perfectly fitting pair of practical pants.”

“I’m seeing that now. They’re practical but done right, the material folds in way that makes them quite fashionable.”

“Yep. Glad you like them.” The kid said, nodding.

“You’re not from around here are you?” The old man asked the kid in a warm tone.

“No, I’m just visiting the city. Gonna head out here in a few days.”

“Enjoying Vitesse?”

“I like the city, but I feel like a very small fish in a very large pond here.”

The old man chuckled. “Yes, The City of Flowers is home to many legends, many elites, many people who think they know what they want. Hard to climb the ladder when there’s already so many people on it.”

“Yeah. That’s a good way of putting it.” The kid agreed.

“Just you here then?” The old man asked.

The kid peered at the old man, looking into his eyes as he openly guessed his intentions.

“Just waiting on someone right now. She needed some time to herself.”

“Ah. Girlfriend troubles. You probably know what you’re doing with that better than me.”

“Nothing like that. Just a friend.” The kid said. “We had a run-in with a priestess of Knowledge. Does that happen often around here?”

“It’s not uncommon for Knowledge to spread what she knows, but she alone is the decider of who is ready to hear what.”

A look of annoyed distress came to the kids face.

“Not many priests where you come from?” The old man asked.

“Not much divine intervention at all. I don’t like it.” The kid replied.

“The intervention? Or the divinity?”

The kid looked down at the ground, then craned his neck to look over at the old man again.

“I didn’t catch your name. I’m Sen.”

“You can call me Dominick.”

“Seems like you’ve been around for quite a while, Dom. You’re older than you look, aren’t you?”

“I am, yes. Most people are around here. Maybe not as old as me but there are certainly some that are older.”

Sen tried to perceive Dominick’s aura to get a feel for him, but his own aura was pushed back and suppressed immediately upon doing so, without feeling any of Dominick’s emotions behind it at all. They stared at each other for a moment before Sen looked away.

“You know, Sen, even having a perceptible aura that you can manipulate as a normal is a rarity. Your aura control leaves much to be desired, but your aura has the potential to be very strong.”

Sen could feel the compliment as an apology for suppressing his aura.

“It’s all just so new to me.” Sen admitted.

“Because you’re the outworlder, right? The one that brought us the pants?”

Sen froze, then chuckled to himself.

“The outworlder that brought you the pants. Yeah.” Sen said under his breath. “But being as old as you are, in all your wisdom, you knew that already, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did. Wouldn’t you think it wise to try and hide it, at your level?”

“Seems like a fool’s errand. You’re not a priest, are you? Sitting outside the temples wishing someone would come worship?”

“No, no.” The old man said with a small laugh. “Just an old man wishing to make a new friend.”

“So, do you actually like the jeans, or is it some kind of tactic to get me to like you?”

“I do, actually.” Dominick said, pulling at the denim. “They were quite stiff when I first put them on, but it seems they’ve loosened up as I wore them longer.”

Sen looked at him with a skeptical expression, then looked away, checking to see if he could see Zulli anywhere.

“I’ve hardly had an actual chance meeting since I’ve been here, Dom. Everyone who has any sort of power knows who I am before I even meet them, and everyone is more powerful than me.”

“So, you already know the path to remedy that.” Dom said.

“Sure, but it doesn’t help me right now. It’ll take time to accrue that power. I mean, how old are you? How long has it taken you?”

“A very long time.”

“Any tips?”

Dominick smiled. He stood up from the very comfortable limestone bench, his poncho draping around his body to his knees. He looked down at Sen.

“Do not try to take any shortcuts. Make the hard decisions just for the sake of making the hard decisions, and remember you have a long life to live. Enemies now can be friends later, as well as the other way around.”

Dominick turned around and walked away without saying goodbye. Sen merely watched him walk away, which was by chance, or maybe not by chance, the same direction Zulli was heading from. She spotted Sen on the bench and quickened her pace to reach him.

“You okay?” Sen asked as she was nearing the bench.

“I’m fine. Just exhausted I think.” Zulli replied, sitting down on the edge of the bench.

“It can take a real toll on your mind, more than you’d think.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Anatomically, I don’t have a mind. My body is a reflection of my soul.”

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* Celestial Body

* Your physical form has been manifested from pure energy connecting it collaterally to your soul, reflecting it using the same collateral effect. You have an inherent resistance to transcendent damage, absorbing some of the damage and converting it into a heal over time effect.

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“But anxiety exhausts me all the same.” Zulli said.

Sen nodded, exhausted in his own right.

“Maybe we should call it a day. Head back to the Magic Society, try to get some rest. We can talk with Vance in the morning. We still need to get some warm clothes for the trip, but we should be ready to go otherwise.” Sen said.

“I like that idea. Do you know how to get back from here?”

Sen pointed toward a tower in the distance, across the rooftops of the city, it was built with dark gray stone and had blue banners hanging from the highest windows, but the tower was so far away that the symbols on the banners were hard to make out.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the Magic Society Director’s tower.” Sen said. “We should run into Leith’s shawarma stall on the way there.”

***

As Sen had guessed, they had passed by the shawarma stall. They decided to hold off on stocking up for now. They would both take some time to themselves for the rest of the afternoon, and meet again for dinner, where they would try out the shawarma given to them by the priestess of Knowledge, Marydeth Palona.

Zulli walked with Sen back to his dorm, they were both expecting to run into Vance as they entered the Magic Society campus, but he never showed. Zulli told Sen she was going to walk around on her own for a while, while Sen decided to recluse himself in his room to meditate.

When he opened the door to his room, he found a folded piece of paper that someone had slid under it. It was neither sealed nor wrote by a calligrapher, it just seemed to be a quick note written by someone walking by.

Senadin,

My name is Arcturus, I was told by a friend that you were new to this world, and I was considering offering you an invitation to my team that would soon be leaving Vitesse. Vance Cour’deLain is a good friend of mine, and I sought his council on the matter, ultimately deciding that we would not be a good fit as teammates. This is not to say that we couldn’t be teammates later in life, if we both survive that long. I am writing to encourage you to train hard, and find someone that can help you along the way. I am realizing now that I am not that person. I have a lot to learn. This letter is as much for you as it is for me.

Stay alive,

-Arcturus Grandstream

“Arcturus Grandstream?” Sen asked under his breath. “Guess I’ll have to ask Vance about him tomorrow.”

Sen threw the paper on the kitchen table as he walked into the living area, pulling one of the dining chairs into the middle of the room. Shadow engulfed him, taking away his shirt, jeans, and boots, and replacing them with his comfortable set of Magic Society issued pants.

Sen sat on the chair as he had done days prior, right before he met Zulli and before he sent himself on his relatively wild escapade around Vitesse. He collected his thoughts, putting them all in boxes, trying to organize them in chronological order. He tried to sift through the thoughts that were hidden by the great silhouettes of the obvious. His mind seemed to have developed a more adept ability to recall and recollect since the Potent Essence linked to his Spirit Attribute. His mind felt cleaner, easier to pilot, as he closed his eyes to begin his meditation in earnest.

He remembered leaving Vitesse, Zulli giving him one last chance to turn back when they were stopped by the guards at the gates. He wondered where he would be now if he had taken that chance. He remembered his first monster kill: The wily mousekrat rabid for its next meal. The fight didn’t go as planned. He had thought it would have been a more grand, action-packed and mythical experience, but it ended with a minor wound on his hip, and the mousekrat’s blood on his boot. He couldn’t bear to think his injury was something major when he thought back to Zulli being cut down. His face cringed, his eyes closing tighter. He took a deep breath in. He had to look back on the memory objectively and accept it. He exhaled slowly. Zulli’s scream rang through his mind. Maybe there was something in the grass he could have noticed. Despite the monster being invisible, it would have displaced the grass it was standing on, as he noticed while the monster was circling him, before August landed in front of him like a comic book hero, tearing through the monster’s neck with his large axe. He had to make sure to be more perceptive out there. He was lucky August was watching. He remembered August berating him. He was weak, he knew that now.

“You think this is a game!?” Sen heard August yell once more, deep in his mind.

Did Sen think it was just a game? Maybe. Maybe he wasn’t taking this as seriously as he should. He’d have time on the trip to get his priorities together, with August’s guidance. Garrus Carbon; what was Sen to make of the man? Was he a crime lord or just a criminal? Ex-Adventurer? He had money enough to own an entire city block in Vitesse, but Sen saw no sign of henchmen or the like. Other than Garrus, the only other person Sen and Zulli saw at Carbon Manor was August. Despite that, Garrus seemed like a busy man, as if his matters were many but invisible. Sen still didn’t quite trust him, but Sen trusted August enough that he would take on the quest Garrus had proposed for them: To go to Silverwind and retrieve Carbon’s sword. That’s all it could be, a simple quest. But Sen knew it wasn’t that simple, and he didn’t want to play the game if it was.

“No. Stop. It’s not a game.”

It was serious. It was life or death. He had to get that through his head. Zulli could have died, and then Sen along with her. This wasn’t like the fantasies he distracted himself with back home. There were no respawns or checkpoints. Or were there? Surely there was a god of death. Even the idea of gods implied immortality. Could he respawn? Could he become immortal? It was too much to think about now. He had to focus on staying alive. Which meant right now, he had to focus on his meditation. He needed to clear his mind to be ready to make the tough decisions.

Sen took in a deep breath after realizing he stopped breathing. He nearly gasped for air. Then let out a sharp breath and took in another.

“Okay.” He said, catching his breath.

Sen stood up from his chair and slid it out of the way with a push from the sole of his bare foot. He felt like a martial artist wearing nothing but his free flowing, light gray pants, and he embraced it, sitting down on the floor in a cross-legged pose.

He attempted to meditate, but not like he had learned in the void. In the void he had taught his mind to escape everything, to be unerring despite any consequences. No responsibility.

He had responsibilities now. He had weight to bear.

He closed his eyes and freed his mind. He allowed thoughts to enter it and be released. It was difficult at first, he wanted to focus on things and analyze them as he was doing before. He fought himself for half an hour before his mind relaxed enough to allow the thoughts to flow without reason. Despite knowing he had weight to bear, he could feel his shoulders lightening. Tension released from his body as he let his mind be free.

His head hung low, not in surrender, but in relaxation. His hands hung limply with his arms rested on his legs.

“Wooow.” Sen said in a breathy sigh as he raised his arms and let his back fall to the floor. He lay there, spread-eagle, as he stared at the pale light of the few glowstones on the ceiling.

***

Leaning against a balustrade on a raised bridge between a couple of the many buildings in the Magic Society campus, Zulli looked out to a courtyard below.

The courtyard below seemed to be closed off to the public and was meant for Magic Society staff only. She had only seen people with magic society robes walking from one building to the next, dropping off documents, briskly walking to meetings and taking breaks on the many benches.

Some of these people had looked up to the bridge to see her staring at them. Some stopped, obviously taken aback by her unconventional shadowy form. Some had walked by on the bridge, sending whispers back and forth between their groups, talking about the strange person with shadowy black skin and no facial features. She paid them no mind, or so she wanted them to think.

Of course she paid them mind. They openly regarded her as a freak despite trying to hide their intentions. They had seen Draconians, the blue-skinned tattooed race known as the Runics, the fiery Smolders, the gruff and furry Leonids, and even some essence users had their own traits that set them apart, but none had ever seen a Novabound before.

Even Zulli hadn’t the faintest idea if there was anyone else out there like her. She didn’t even know why she existed. She knew she was the conscious manifestation of an extreme amount of energy released in the universe, but even to her it sounded far-fetched the longer she thought about it.

Her racial ability, Twilight Visitor, gave her a little bit of insight into her own existence. She could only feel it, since she didn’t have an interface like Sen did, and when Sen had scanned her to tell her about it, his interface had told him that its description was blocked by the inherent effect of the ability. She could only feel the power it gave her, and the power was odd, like it was juxtaposed to her existence.

Maybe she had made a mistake. She liked Sen, his outgoing attitude, his penchant for adventure, his ability to make light of heavy situations, and that look he gave her when things got serious. But maybe she wasn’t meant to be with him in this world.

“But you just latch on to the first person who’s as lost as you are.” She grumbled to herself.

Their meeting seemed fated, but maybe it was all just chance happenings, so closely tied together that there was no sense to be made from them other than an ignorant understanding of destiny.

Zulli’s stroll through the Magic Society campus was meant to clear her head, but the more she thought, the more anxious she became. Before reaching the bridge that she now looked out from, she decided to decide. She needed to make a decision and stick to it. Maybe it was best to leave Sen and find her own path.

She knew that Sen wouldn’t let her live in his shadow. He was good enough not to allow her to do that. But she was still afraid of it.

Without Sen, she could have more opportunities and maybe find answers. She would be free to carve her own path without worrying about whatever hoops Garrus wants them to jump through, just because Sen has some special Essence.

But she had a special essence too, her confluence Essence of the Supernova.

“Supernova.” She whispered. “Out there, alone, radiating that powerful energy that no one feels.”

She contemplated its meaning. There had to be some kind of reason for having it, there had to be some reason it was special.

She let out an annoyed groan and turned around. One of the magic society staff’s brisk pace abruptly halted by her sudden turn and they clutched their paperwork close to their chest as they peered at her, peering at them. Zulli simply raised her arms in disgruntled confusion, and they hastily went on their way.

Maybe if she had some friends she could talk about it with them. If only she could make friends.

Zulli’s palm swiftly met her face. Sen was her friend. He wasn’t holding her hostage. Why couldn’t she simply talk about it with him? He would understand.

She walked across the bridge, through some more halls, corridors, and courtyards as she made her way back through the massive campus to her and Sen’s dormitories. Her shoulders and her neck stiffened as she felt anxiety rush through her in anticipation of the confrontation. Maybe he wouldn’t understand. Maybe he would be upset about her wanting to leave him and go off alone. Maybe he would try to talk her out of it. Maybe he would try to force her to stay. What if there was a dark part of Sen that he was hiding from her? What if Zulli was about to experience that darkness?

Her gait slowed as she rounded the corner to the dormitories. She could feel every step she took. The steps felt huge, as if she couldn’t walk normally. The pressure of the floor pushed against the bottoms of her feet, through the light pair of boots she wore. Her breath became heavy. Dizziness came upon her as she walked up to Sen’s door. She fought through it, knowing she had made the decision and there was no reason to turn back. She steeled her resolve through her own willpower alone and knocked on the door.

The moment seemed like an eternity before she heard the doorknob held and watched it twisted counterclockwise. The door swung back.

Sen stood there, shirtless, in a comfortable pair of pants, holding two paper-wrapped sandwich-tacos, one in each hand. His sunken eyes seemed tired, but they curved in a way that matched his gentle smirk, which instantly cut through Zulli’s frustration.

Zulli’s mood lightened, as if her ego dropped all its weight and floated within her, unburdened by her anxiety. The connection between their souls that Garrus had mentioned reinvigorated through Zulli’s body, like a dam was opened and the dry creek that was her lonely frustration was filled and flooded. How could she forget? Their souls were connected, somehow. She felt comfort she didn’t know she could have. She felt like she was where she was meant to be.

Sen arms lowered when she didn’t take her shawarma. Zulli stood at his door, staring at him for a moment.

“Uh, Zulli, you alright?”

Zulli paused, and as always, the expression on her face was unseen. She smiled, stepping into Sen’s room, taking her shawarma, and closing the door.