When he came to, he was sitting on a small couch in the corner of his room with a book in his hands.
His brows furrowed. It didn’t quite feel like he’d just woken up. No, he was sitting upright with a page still on the edge of his finger; he’d been reading. At least, that’s what anyone from the outside would guess at first glance.
From his perspective, it felt as if he’d just come out of a focused stupor. He hadn’t been ‘conscious’ before, sure, but the memory of unconsciousness blended immediately with memories that weren’t his own… but were at the same time. At the edge of his memory, he could even recall reading the next couple of chapters over the last few hours and having taken detailed notes as he normally would. Thinking further, the memory of morning training came to mind, the normalcy of it all, a banter session with Hector where his friend bragged about scoring… a normal morning. Despite not having been in the driver’s seat, ‘he’d’ apparently went about his day normally.
Yet, suspicion crept in. He was hopeful that his suspicions were unfounded, products of training gone wrong.
Unfortunately, his hopes were immediately crushed. As he turned to search the room for any clues, his eyes caught sight of a familiar, open notebook. Grabbing it, he searched furiously through its recent contents, only to find glaring evidence corroborating these ‘puppet’ memories. He’d taken notes on what he’d read. It was his in his own handwriting, his style, with all the little quirks that his writing held.
“What the hell? He muttered, trying to reconcile the strange course of events.
One minute he was at the market with the strange witch and in the next, he was here, reading quietly in his room.
A stifling feeling assaulted him. A pit formed in his gut as a myriad of conclusions ran through his confused mind. Hector, his mom, his dad, Artemia, all of them; his mind constructed numerous scenarios that must’ve happened for him to end up here. How did he get home? What about his parents? Surely, they wouldn’t have let such a strange situation stand.
Was he even unconscious?
That may not even be the case. He was reading here after all. Didn’t he remember what he was reading? He tried to focus, to ponder on the possibilities.
Then he remembered; he walked back alone and went about his evening as normal. No one suspected a thing because he was just following his normal script.
His mind flashed to the crowds who paid them no mind.
‘Just like them…’ he thought grimly.
He remembered her words, [“Ya sure you want to know? It’ll be wild.”]
He snapped the book shut. “How ridiculous…” She’d indeed been honest. He just hadn’t conceived the possibility that she could do something so ludicrous. To make him play out his life on autopilot without anyone else, including himself, being the wiser.
How long could she do that? Would people normally remember? How common was it?
How could one learn this power?
Before he knew it, he found himself breathing hard like he’d just finished a warmup with a thin veneer of sweat shining his forehead and dampening his palms. Recognizing it, a sudden sense of self-ridicule hit him.
“Hmph~ look at me, over thinking questions I have no way of answering.” He shook his head. His eyes looked at the clock.
“Should I ask my folks…” he pondered aloud.
Every piece of rationality commanded him to reach out to his intellectually superior parents. Surely, they would have a good idea of what was going on. He could bring them into the fold and have them solve the problem for him or, failing at, provide sound council that would help navigate the situation better.
But something warred against that notion. It wasn’t any resentment, insecurity, or anything of the sort. He bore none of those ‘silly’ feelings to his folks, friends, or anyone else really. It was actually very simple.
Excitement.
The rush from that night, of watching that woman’s climactic battle with that earthen titan lit a fire in him that he didn’t even realize was there. Already, a growing mixture of impatience, anxiety, and yearning brewed within him to seek it out, to seize for himself that feeling in a more tangible, permanent form…
…and there was no way he’d let his parents take that away from him, logic be damned.
But he would resist the pull. Patience was needed. One piece of advice he had always taken to heart and would do so again was that acting without direction was often worse than doing nothing.
So he would wait.
He had no idea of how to use this hammer, what price he’d have to pay to use it, how ‘loud’ using it would be, or anything of the sort. He didn’t know where to start, but he did know one thing. Ellua wanted something from him. She had a use for him and as long as that remained the case, there was opportunity.
For now though, he would wait.
With this decision made, his focus returned to the book in his hand. “Might as well go practice some.”
--- The Djinn of Atlantia ---
The days went by, and he hadn’t seen any sign of Ellua. A part of him was disappointed, but the other was glad. The silence and normalcy gave him time to slowly experiment with his new circumstances. It also gave him a chance to calm down a bit.
In hindsight, he put himself in a very dangerous position a few nights ago. He didn’t know Ellua, yet he accompanied her. In hindsight, it was embarrassing how he just let her string him along like she did. He was at her mercy, completely and utterly. Sure, he couldn’t conceive of how he could’ve escaped safely, but surely a bit of caution would’ve been appropriate. It wouldn’t be so bad if his headspace had been cautious, but… it wasn’t. While he couldn’t call it trust, he couldn’t deny his infatuation with everything she was – beautiful, mysterious, and a departure from the banal day to day in which he’d grown accustomed.
It just helped that, if she really wanted to do something, there was nothing he could do to stop her. How did that ease his anxiety in any way? Well, it soothed his ego of course. He was used to people being more dangerous than him in a situation… but he wasn’t used to being the one to do stupid things; that was Hector’s role. With her being ‘inescapable’ and ‘unbeatable’, he rationalized that, even if he were more cautious, there was nothing that would’ve changed.
On the other hand, despite their earlier words, he hadn’t seen his parents since that day. The only clue he had regarding their whereabouts was a note telling him they’d be running an errand and that they’d see him after the mission. It was odd, sure, especially considering his belief that they knew something about this whole djinn thing. Ultimately though, any concerns on that end faded with his obsessive alchemy practice. He didn’t so much progress deeper into the materials list. Rather, he went back over the ones he’d already finished and practiced those. Needless to say, his perspective on the art experienced a complete transformation.
He shook his head, clearing away the irrelevant thoughts. While he’d love to spend another whole day in the workshop, it was time for the mission.
They agreed to meet in the town center. It was a solid middle point between the market and training ground and therefore a convenient spot for any situation where someone may be missing supplies. Being so close to both, they could easily fill any gaps.
He’d brought a bigger backpack today. He needed more supplies than normal, and his dad’s order was particularly large. It was fortunate that he wouldn’t be the one carrying it. There were some benefits to bringing along weaker members.
“Hey Mike!” Hector called out. “Ready for the mission!”
Michael was confused for a moment, before a realization hit him.
“Hey…” he replied hesitantly. “Did anyone tell you about the mission or who was coming with?”
“Nope! Not a peep. I asked your dad about it, and he just said you’d tell me today and when I asked you about it earlier, you just kept walking like you didn’t even realize I was there. You were rambling under your breath with so much focus, I didn’t even bother trying.”
Michael scratched his head embarrassedly. “Oops.” He was about to continue when an unfortunately familiar voice called out from behind them.
“They stuck me with you?” Tula’s complaint startled Hector.
He turned around to see her wearing a large backpack. She wore loose dark brown pants and a dark green tunic. Oddly enough, her normally long pink hair was tied into a tight bun, something they’d never seen of her before.
“Hey Candylocks, what’re you doing here?” Hector pensively asked, simultaneously praying that his suspicions were unfounded.
“Same as you, I’d imagine. My mom told me to be here and so I am.”
“And the look? Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so…”
“Dull? Boring?” She sharply answered, earning a cautious nod from the duo.
“Well, uhh… yeah; that’s right.” Hector replied.
“Well, because I haven’t. I’d never dress like this if it was my choice.” She irritably replied while looking at her sleeves in disgust. “But it wasn’t my choice. My mom apparently wants me to suffer on my first mission and forced me to wear this.”
Michael thought about revealing what his dad’s revealed but decided against it. It wasn’t worth it.
Hector’s gaze snapped back to Michael’s. “What the hell man!? Why’s she here? They can’t seriously be thinking about letting her on a real mission, huh? We’re green ourselves. We can’t take care of her.”
“Hey! I’m perfectly capable of defending myself! Just because I don’t try, doesn’t mean I can’t do it.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“That’s not how that works. I’ve seen your weak ass try to pull that bow. What’s your accuracy rate again? Last time I checked, you can’t hit the broad sign of a shithouse.”
“If it’s moving, yeah, but I can hit still targets!” She stubbornly defended.
The two just looked at her for a moment before Michael decided to step in. “Lay off Hector.”
“You’re taking her side? What the hell man?” he asked indignantly.
They stared silently at each other, having a silent, stern conversation, before Hector clicked his tongue and turned to the side.
Tula wanted to say something, but Michaels’ silencing gaze quieted any further discussion.
“Where we want each other to be is irrelevant. All we can do is plan with what we have. If Tula can shoot accurately at still targets, we’ll need to herd them. If she can’t move while doing so, we’ll have to give her the space to take those shots. We can complain when it’s over.”
“As you should.” She couldn’t resist saying. She was ignored.
“Now, let’s get to business.”
“So, what’re we getting? Can’t imagine we’re going too far.” Hector didn’t finish the thought, leaving the obvious hint of the ‘why’ to hang.
Michael donned a grim visage. “Unfortunately, it won’t be as easy as we’d like. We’re heading into the Seven Seasons Cave. You know, the one at the edge of the forest’s western outer layer.”
“Excuse me!?” Tula cried out. “Isn’t that like super dangerous? I thought that section was restricted to the aether class?”
“I’m with Candylocks.” Hector replied with a pensive discomfort. “She’s a gonner if we go that far. We can’t protect her there. Much as I don’t like ‘er, I don’t want her to kick the bucket too soon.”
“Hey! You’d get eaten too! Don’t pretend like you’re some hot shit!”
“At least I can hold my own. Didn’t you just hear my bro Mike talk about how we needed to coddle-”
“Moving on.” Michael interrupted, causing Hector to pause and huff in annoyance. “We’re getting the Seven Seasons Moss. Like the cave, it has a unique trait for every day of the week. In its case, it keeps whatever trait that it has when it’s picked. Tomorrow’s the day we’re waiting for.”
Tula’s eyes snapped open in fear. “Wait… you can’t mean what I think you mean…”
Hector kept his silence, not liking the answer himself.
“Yes. The order’s a large one. To make sure we have enough time to knab a big enough haul, we’re camping out at the cave’s entrance tonight.”
“What!!??” She shrieked, startling her teammates. She babbled uncomprehendingly for a moment, unable to articulate the uncontrolled fury of emotions. Her eyes swiveled in their sockets as her thoughts became practically visible to both their dull eyes.
“What the hell, Tula? You gone mental or something?” Hector asked, disturbed.
Tula ignored him, staring intently at Michael with a sharp gaze.
“And how are we going to carry all that!?” she asked, having found her way out.
“Rude…” Hector muttered.
Michael reached back and tapped his backpack. “My dad loaned me a have a few compression bags. They’re in here. Don’t worry; it’ll be a piece of cake. I run these kinds of missions all the time.”
“How-” She paused to ponder her words. “We’re going that far in, and you want us to carry it back by hand? isn’t that a bit silly.”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do.” Michael replied as a matter of fact. “Like I said, I do it all the time. Despite the amount we’re carrying though, seven seasons moss isn’t heavy, so this time, it’ll just be you that carries it.”
“Absolutely not. Nu-uh, no way. Not gonna happen.” She vehemently denied in quick succession.
“Not negotiable I’m afraid.”
“What kind of guy forces a girl to carry his things.” She asked, raising her voice into a girlish snarl.
Michael scratched his head with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. Part of him wanted to ask what she expected to happen or what she thought these missions were. The other was annoyed that he had to deal with her lack of attention in class. His mom went over these details constantly.
The weakest link and/or support roles had to manage the luggage on missions. It shouldn’t have been that hard to comprehend.
“I mean, Hector may have been a bit crass, but he was right about one thing; you’re the least helpful among us in a fight.” Her eyes narrowed in deep frustration at the critique. “As my mom taught us, you don’t have the main fighting force tie their hands on a mission if other hands are available.”
“And that’s an excuse?” she rose in challenge, her tone shifting to a chiding intensity. “Didn’t we just talk about how ‘weak’ I supposedly am? Kind of putting the mission in jeopardy, aren’t you?”
Michael didn’t respond immediately.
“You’re not going to listen to this chick, are ya? She’s nuts.”
“Rude~” she muttered.
“And proud of it.” Hector easily replied before refocusing on Michael. “Listen man, it’s what it is. Let’s just get moving. Candylocks will keep complaining till ya chicken out and take’er home.”
“Yeah…” doubt had crept into his words, further accented by his scrunching face. He took a breath to clear his thoughts, taking a moment to take in his friend’s words.
“We’ll figure it out.” He stated, firmer than before. “You’re right man; it’s best to just get moving.”
Tula’s teeth gritted as she turned her glare at to hector’s direction.
‘I had him!’ she thought with a molten stare. “I had him, had him, HAD HIM!!’
Unaware of the scale of her ire, Michael continued, “Let’s go.”
--- The Djinn of Atlantia ---
Tula grumbled incomprehensibly under her breath, trailing behind the two boys. They’d been traveling for hours now, and she hated every bit of it.
It was easy at first, simple in direction and experience. They hadn’t encountered much; Michael’s amulet had done its job encouraging the wildlife to ignore them and, between his and Hector’s skills, they’d easily dealt with the few that still approached. The amulet basically made it harder for the eyes of less intelligent beings to focus on them. It wasn’t perfect, but it more than lightened up the danger they were in. As long as they didn’t make asses out of themselves, it did its job. She’d just been a spectator through the trip, but that was perfectly fine with her.
Now, she didn’t appreciate the bugs that they still had to deal with. There were a few instances where she’d been immobilized in fear by the sanguine recluse spiders or the spitting cockroaches. It’d been a horrible experience for her on that front, but Hector, having the least fear of bugs, took care of them easily enough. She’d wanted to thank him, but… his smug grin turned her off any gratitude she may’ve had.
Yet, as the trio delved deeper, Michael took them on non-linear paths. Instead of going straight toward the cave, he suddenly had them go off in a different direction. At first, she thought it’d be a slow detour, but no… they were led on increasingly odd tangents that seemingly led nowhere.
When she first noticed, she was content to trust his expertise. He was the only one between the three of them with experience traveling through this spirits-forsaken place after all; it’s not strange that his experience deviated from the map. But as time went on, she found herself growing increasingly impatient. Like a licked lollipop, her patience thinned over the hours.
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. “OK, spill. Where are you taking us?” she asked as politely as she could, despite the still-building frustration.
Neither turned around, still continuing apace. Based on the sun’s position, they likely only had an hour or so before they’d planned to be there. It would be setting soon, and no one wanted to be caught out here in the cold, dreary night. There were too many dangers that came out after sun set.
It was Michael who answered. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get there on time; we’re just taking a detour for safety.”
“Why?” she asked; it came off more petulant than she intended, but she didn’t really care at this point. “For what ungodly reason would we NOT go in a straight line?”
Hector turned to regard her with an annoyed side eye. Her roiling feelings bristled at the unspoken condescension she found in his gaze.
“Didn’t you pay attention in class?” Hector patronizingly asked. “Teach gave us a whole spiel about it last week.”
She hadn’t paid attention. Now that it came to mind, she was mapping out a business idea she’d been mulling over. She would be an adult in a few months and would therefore be free to do things that truly mattered, like making money. Lessons that didn’t matter took a backseat to those preparations.
But she couldn’t admit it; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being right.
“What does that have to do with it?” she diverted.
“Because teach specifically told us why we can’t always take a straight line when coming through this place. Seriously Candylocks, you need to pay attention.” Hearing their retched nickname for her spoken with that condescending drawl sparked the kindling, igniting her annoyance into a palpable rage.
“Then tell me already jackass! Stop talking to me like I’m five and get to the point!” her voice was louder than before, colored deeply with her building fury. The logical part of her knew that she was reaping the ignorance she’d sown in class, but that part was drowned by the torrent of fury that’d grown past what logic could levy.
“OK. OK. Chill girly; not trying to start a fight or nothing.” Hector placated. Unfortunately for him, she only heard a single word.
“Chill? Chill!?” She screeched louder this time, causing both boys to finally pause their steps. Only now did they look at her. Only now did those eyes show anything other than patronization, contempt, and irritation; only now did she see a hint of concern.
“Hey. Hey. Why don’t I answer the question? Does that work?” Michael finally suggested with placating gestures.
Tula didn’t say a word, merely silently prompting him to speak.
“The areas around the cave are home to the nacht bunny tribes and they’re breeding this time of year. It causes them to be unusually aggressive. The mothers that guard their young, the fathers that guard them, the whole population becomes too much to deal with when this happens. That’s not even me-” he was interrupted.
“Bunnies…?” She muttered, quietly interrupting him. Then she erupted into an outraged roar, “Bunnies!? You’re afraid of bunnies!?”
Hector looked at her condescendingly. “Nacht bunnies. You deaf or stupid?” he chided, before “Ouch!”
Michael elbowed his side, forcing him to stop. “Come on man, stop poking the bear.”
Hector looked at him like he was crazy, while still rubbing his side. “First of all, ouch; you didn’t need to elbow me that hard.” Earning a confused look from Michael. “Second of all, there’s nothing wrong with getting the dead weight to know her place. We’d already have been there by now if we didn’t need to drag her too.”
Michael didn’t get a chance to respond. Tula beat him to it.
“You think I’m dead weight…?” She quietly asked, eyes shadowed by her bangs. “You think two dumbasses scared of a few pregnant bunnies have more use than me!?” She snapped to glare at them with hate-filled eyes. “Well you can go to HELLL!!!! I’ll finish this myself!!!??”
And before either of them could respond, she took off. Unknown to her, untrained as she was, her aether responded to her rage. Her strides grew longer, her pace faster, and her field of vision sharper; without noticing, she traveled at a speed that dwarfed anything she’d previously experienced.
Unfortunately, it happened when she was already out of view.
--- The Djinn of Atlantia ---
Michael turned to chase her but was stopped by Hector, whose hand gripped his shoulder.
“Hey man, she’ll be fine. Why don’t we finish the mission. It’s not like she’ll be in any danger.” Hector suggested.
Michael’s brows furrowed. “That’s cold. You know damn well what’ll happen if we do that. She’ll never survive. YOU even mentioned how bad she is at this.” He rebuked.
Hector didn’t show an ounce of remorse, only looking at with a confident gaze. “Listen, you saw how she acted out here. We’ve been lucky so far; it’s been quiet, but that won’t last. We can’t afford to bring along someone with such causal disregard for common sense.”
Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you really suggesting we leave her out here to die?”
He knew he had to hurry and catch up to her quickly; they didn’t have time for this conversation. On the other hand, he also knew how slow she is. A little side bar wouldn’t let her get too far. Running in the woods wasn’t easy, especially for someone like her who’d never taken their training seriously. Part of him was waiting for her to come back running.
Hector shrugged like it was no big deal. “That’s why she’s out here, right? To sink or swim. Well, she chose to sink.”
Michael felt a chill go down his spine at the cold-blooded statement. “But that would be like killing her ourselves. You can’t be serious.”
“As a heart attack. Listen man, she’s a waste of time, dead weight, always has been. We can go about our mission and say she had an accident.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could Hector be so cold-blooded, to willingly leave her to her own devices. No… he would declare her dead, despite it requiring her to actually be dead.
He was about to give voice to his dismay but hesitated. He mulled it over in his mind. He wasn’t really thinking of any viable alternatives; there were none and he knew it. He just didn’t want to rock the boat with one of his best friends. Ultimately, after a few moments of consideration, he couldn’t take it anymore.
“I can’t.” He replied resignedly. There was no weight to his words; they were weak, but there was finality.
“Really man, you’re-” Hector tried to rebut, but couldn’t. His words were caught in his mouth when Michael’s gaze fell upon him.
They weren’t his normal hazel. No, his irises shone in a resplendent gold, staring piercingly into his own. For an instant, the visage of a towering four-eyed, horned beast loomed behind Michael. That instant stretched out to what felt like an eternity as a crushing pressure weighted heavily on him, crushing him from all directions.
Eventually though, he snapped out of it and the towering behemoth had vanished. Michael had also taken off to catch up to Tula. Still shaking, Hector looked down to see his hand shivering like mad and could feel a clammy dampness chilling him from beneath his clothes. He wiped his head to see himself drenched.
“What was that?” he whispered as if worried the beast would return. He looked up to see Michael’s form had already vanished. “What the hell, Mike?”
Then it hit him. “Hey, wait up!”
The reality of the situation caught up, allowing his mind to repress the oppressive fear it was dealing with. Michael was leaving fast and even he, despite himself actually training seriously, didn’t know this place enough to be here without him.
He took off to catch up.