12 May: 5 days to Earth’s destruction

The humans’ technology is strange and admittedly powerful. Yet it will benefit them little on Overworld. Given their technology’s nature, the Trials will not allow it to function. And without the aid of their Earth-forged weapons, the humans are weak and ripe for conquest. We should prepare for immediate invasion once the Arkon Shield falls. —Lilith Smoke, fiendish spymaster.

Ignoring the Trials’ messages, I rolled over and stared up at the sky, surprised I was still alive.

It was done.

I had avenged Mum’s death, and was done with Overworld, the Trials, and the blasted invaders. Nothing else mattered anymore. My purpose was complete and now I could rest.

Gazing up into the endless blue emptiness of the sky, I found myself wondering at the colour of Overworld’s sky. I dismissed the errant thought in irritation. I would never see it, I was certain. Around me, lay a heavy silence. Even the shelling had stopped.

I turned my head to stare at the spot where Mum had died. The area was scorched. Both the orcs’ and Mum’s remains had been incinerated by the incredible heat of multiple explosions.

Goodbye, Mum. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I hope you find peace, wherever you are.

As I looked upon the burned ground and floating ash, I noticed with only mild surprise that the charred earth was neatly contained within a uniform circle. The boundary of the shaman’s fire shield, I guessed.

I likely owed my survival as much to Kagan’s shield as to my own half-hearted attempts at escape. It had contained the explosion’s fury just as completely as it had repelled the mortar fire.

I frowned. But why, then, had I been able to move through the field? I shrugged away the mystery. It didn’t matter. Someone else could figure it out, I thought, returning to my contemplation of the sky.

My phone rang.

I ignored it, but it kept ringing. Groaning in annoyance, I pulled it out of my pocket and stared at the caller ID. It was Eric. I considered cutting the call. My purpose was done. I had my revenge. There was no reason for me to keep going.

But it was Eric and he deserved better from me. I answered the call. “Eric,” I greeted.

“Jamie. Thank God! Are you alright! What am I saying? Of course, you are not! I’m sorry—”

“Eric,” I said slowly, interrupting his rapid-fire flow of words. “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be in Overworld already?”

“You’re right, I should be, but we ran into some unexpected delays. But none of that is important now. I saw what happened to your mum. Jamie, I am so sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

“What do you mean you saw?” I asked, my thoughts still sluggish. Is Eric here? I wondered, looking around.

Eric fell momentarily silent. “Jamie, are you injured?” he asked, his voice heavy with concern. “You don’t sound alright.”

I laughed hollowly. “No, Eric. I am not alright. My Ma is dead.”

“I know, man. I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

I shoved back the upswell of grief that threatened at the sympathy in Eric’s voice. “Where are you?” I asked, changing the topic.

“In my apartment, watching you on the news.”

“On the news?” I repeated, bewildered.

“That’s right. The whole world saw you kill those five orcs. Right now, the internet is exploding in celebration. You’ve just shown everyone that those bastards are not invincible. I’m proud of you, man.”

I bit back another grim laugh. Eric didn’t deserve my mockery. “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Earth is doomed. Humanity too, probably. But save yourself, Eric. Go to Overworld, and build a new life for yourself and Emma.”

“We plan to. We were just above to leave.” He paused. “What about you?”

I shook my head, even though Eric couldn’t see it. “My fight is done. Mum is gone and I’ve avenged her death. There is no reason for me to go on.”

The phone filled with the sound of heavy breathing as Eric felt silent. But only for a second. A moment later, the call erupted with hissing as Emma and Eric whispered furiously in the background. Then Eric returned. “Jamie are you still there?”

I almost smiled. Where else would I be? “I’m here, bud.”

“Don’t give up, my friend. Please.”

“I don’t know how to go on, Eric.”

“I know.” He paused, and even without being able to see him I knew my friend well enough to know that he was biting his lips as he pondered his next words. “But there are more orcs, you know.”

I lifted the phone and stared at it for second, before returning it to my ear. “What do you mean?” I asked slowly.

“Those five orcs you killed, they aren’t the ones really responsible for your mum’s death, Jamie,” Eric said softly. “That’s Duskar and the entire Orcish Federation. If you want justice for your mum you will kill them all.”

I fell silent as I chewed on Eric’s words. They were crazy—ludicrous, even. To declare war on the entire Orcish Federation? A nation that even the other overworlders seemed to fear? I chuckled hoarsely. Only Eric would suggest something so outrageous. Or have faith in me accomplishing such a feat.

But he had a point.

Had I really avenged Mum? Yarl and Kagan had only been the instruments of her death. The ones really responsible were Duskar and his warlords. The seeds of doubt planted by Eric flowered into raging discontent.

I had not done enough.

Dissatisfaction lay heavy in the pit of my stomach. My friend was right. There were more orcs to kill. And while that remained true, I could not simply lie down and die.

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I heaved myself upright. “Eric, my friend, you are a real son of a bitch, you know that?”

Eric chuckled. “Someone’s got to beat you straight,” he said, trying to hide the palpable relief in his voice. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to enter the gate,” I said as I stumbled to my feet. “Thanks, Eric.”

“My pleasure, Jamie.”

“And Eric?”

“Yeah, Jamie?”

“Make sure to get your ass there too, alright.”

“Will do, bud. Will do.”

✽✽✽

I limped forward, the silence around me complete. It was still morning, I noted absently.

None of the townsfolk who had fled at the orcs’ appearance had returned. Off to my left, in the far distance, I made out a few watching figures. The militia, I thought, waving absently. None waved back.

I shrugged and continued onwards. As I walked, thoughts of Mum intruded. I shoved them aside. I couldn’t think of her. Not now. It hurt too much.

To keep my mind occupied, and distract myself from the grief that sat heavy on my heart, I focused on the Trials and its recent flood of messages.

Being able to receive messages from the Trials directly through my mind was astonishing enough. But what those messages had to say was almost too spectacular to believe. I perused them as I walked. It seems I had been generously rewarded for my defeat of the orcs.

Rewards like that can’t be normal, I thought. Was it because I was still an Inductee that I had received so many? Or because I had slain enemies so far above my own level? Whatever the case, I doubted my victory here was a feat I would soon duplicate.

On Overworld I would not have the advantage of human technology. There, I would have to rely only on medieval arms and the strength of my own limbs.

And magic, I reminded myself. Do not forget magic.

I opened the first set of messages again. The Trials had judged my Magic Potential as extraordinary, and even through the overwhelming fog of my grief, I felt a spurt of curiosity.

Just catching wind of my Magic Potential had made Kagan take foolish risks. Just how unusual was my Magic Potential? I wondered. And more importantly, how would it serve me, in my crusade?

Because that was what I was embarking on: a crusade. One to purge Overworld of Duskar’s kind. It was a cause I would not give up on, not until they were all dead. Or I was.

I cackled. Not entire sanely, I admit. Baby steps, Jamie. Baby steps.

Looking around, I saw I was nearly at the gate. A very red gate. I took a second to study it. I was sure there were more orcs waiting for me on the other side.

Not me particularly, but any human fool enough to place themselves in enemy hands. I wasn’t going to do that. I had learned my lesson.

Revenge was best served cold.

I would take my war to the orcs when I was ready, and not before. As long as I had any say in the matter, anyhow.

No, it was not suicidal intent that spurred me to approach the orc gate, but rather the Orcsbane Feat—and in particular, one of its Techniques. I called up its description again.

Repurpose: You may temporarily subvert orcish structures to your own ends.

Could I divert the orc gate as the repurpose Technique suggested? I shrugged. Only one way to find out.

Stopping in front of the gate, I considered the artefact’s immensity up close for the first time. The gate arched high overhead, many times my own height. The structure’s rim sparkled with alien inscriptions, and its depths swirled with the reddish shimmer of what I now knew to be a magical field.

Here goes nothing, I thought and placed one hand tentatively against the gate’s metal surface. The metal vibrated faintly and was warm to the touch, but not uncomfortably so.

Now what? I wondered after holding my hand against the gate for an interminable stretch of time where nothing happened.

I knew from countless televised broadcasts that to enter Overworld I simply had to step within the shimmering magical curtain, but I was not willing to do that yet, not without confirmation that I could actually repurpose the structure.

How do I subvert the gate? I wondered, scratching my head with my other hand. Almost as if triggered by the thought, I felt tendrils of energy reach out from me to the artefact as a new message from the Trials opened within my mind.

This is gate forty-six between Overworld and the human planet, Earth. The current owner is the: Orcish Federation, and the allowed destinations are: any orcish settlement in the newly formed Human Dominion.

You have activated repurpose. Do you wish to take temporary control of this gate? Doing so will allow you to change the portal’s destination to any neutral location in the Human Dominion.

Ah, it’s that simple, is it? Alright, then, here goes nothing, I thought, willing my confirmation to the Trials.

A second later, I screamed.

My mind felt as if it was being torn apart as an unimaginable force battered me. I gasped and my knees collapsed under me. I would have fallen entirely if not for my right hand which remained fastened to the gate as if it had been glued there.

What is going on? I had a second to wonder before lances of agony scorched my mind, destroying further thought. The pain reached a crescendo, and my mind was torn open, brutally so, while a conduit was forged between it and the gate.

How I knew this to be true, I could not honestly say, but somehow I understood it to be the case. An image of the gate, pulsing scarlet as if bathed in blood, sprang to life in my mind’s eye.

I knew what I had to do next.

Thrusting coils of my will forward, I sent my consciousness racing across the conduit to the gate and blew away the shimmering red weaves of magic wrapped around it. Slowly at first, then faster, the crimson haze around the gate disappeared. Soon, I would have control of the gate.

Then I felt the presence of another.

The gate’s creator, I realised instinctively. The conduit which I had forged to the structure had temporarily bridged our minds. His thoughts, which I could somehow sense, roiled first with surprise before transforming into rage and fury.

The gate’s owner rushed to stop me, to hold onto control of his creation, but he was too late. The last of the red weaves around the gate dissipated and possession transferred to me.

“Who are you?” thundered the orc, his voice reverberating through my mind. He was another shaman, and one who seemed far beyond Kagan in power. I shuddered. This was not one who was I ready to face.

A second later he answered his own question, somehow divining the answer from my own thoughts. “A human? How?!”

I fled. I could not afford to reveal myself to one like him, not yet. Retracing my steps across the conduit, I sent my consciousness scurrying back to the safety of my body.

“STOP!” bellowed the shaman.

The strength of his mental command was terrifying and nearly petrified me with fear. But I didn’t let myself succumb. I kept fleeing.

The shaman followed, pursuing me across the link bridging our minds. “Don’t think you can escape, human,” he whispered in a menacing undertone. “I know you now. I will find you. If not today, then another day.”

Reaching the safety of my self, I thrust my consciousness back into its shell and frantically willed my mind closed. The echoes of the shaman’s wrathful voice faded as I sealed shut the gates of my mind and dropped back into the ‘real’ world.

I sagged down, hands braced on the floor, head down and heaving in deep, lungsful of air. I had escaped. But how much of myself had the shaman seen? How much had I inadvertently revealed? Had he divined as much of me as I of him?

He was high shaman Orgtul. Orgtul Silverbane.

I rolled his name around my mouth. A second name to add to my list of targets. I straightened and staggered back to my feet.

Stepping back from the gate, I studied it anew. Repurposing it had not been so easy after all. I chuckled with grim humour as I laid a hand again to the artefact’s rim.

You have successfully repurposed gate forty-six. You will retain control of the gate for: thirty minutes, after which ownership will revert back to the Orcish Federation.

The shimmering veil of red was gone, replaced by a soothing grey one. The slap of feet on concrete pulled my attention to my left. Turning, I saw some of the militia soldiers running towards me, hands waving frantically to attract my attention.

But I didn’t let myself get distracted by them. My purpose was to kill orcs. And the orcs were in Overworld. It was there I had to go. I glanced back at the soldiers. Let them follow if they wanted.

Stepping forward, I entered the artefact.

You have entered gate forty-six. Beginning transfer to Overworld…

…

…

… transfer interrupted.

Your Initiation is incomplete. Entry into Overworld is not permitted. Redirecting Inductee to Wyrm Island. Transfer resumed and will be completed in 5 seconds.

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