Sara paced around her room unable to sit down. It was small, without windows and with a sliding door, underground, the light was too harsh, the bed wasn’t the best she ever slept on and the carpet only covered half the floor. But it was her cosy room.

She looked at the box Arascus had given her again. He did say to open it! She did do a good job! Who in all of fucking Arda expected her to double numbers in just two months! She had travelled all of Epa to privately monitor the Branches! Finally she stopped pacing, poured herself a glass of wine and took a sip. Let’s see.

Sara opened the box and blinked. There was a bottle inside. Fine wine, Rancais red, far better than the shit she was drinking now. She blinked and noticed the letter underneath, handwritten, with Arascus’ stamp right next to it:

“Declaration of Nobility. Bestowal of rank of Duchess of House Daganhoff.”

Underneath was another letter. Her smile grew with every word.

“You have impressed me greatly. Underneath this letter is a red shawl of nobility, you may design a crest for yourself. This letter is a promise of a deed in any Epan palace, castle, or home of your choosing after the Victory day. Well done. Tomorrow, you have a day of rest, enjoy yourself. To save you the humiliation publicly, I know that the servants you assigned to me are spies. I expect new servants by the end of the week. – Arascus, God of Pride.”

Lyca stared up at the ceiling of the library as his vision slowly faded away. “PLEASE!” Eliza shouted. “PLEASE HEAL HIM! PLEASE!” Lyca pressed felt his head on Eliza’s lap. Not a bad way to die. Not a bad way to die whatsoever. The woman in front tutted, snapped her fingers and the blood from her face disappeared.

“It would be a waste.” She said absently as Fleur and Edmonton rushed over to Lyca. “I’m no Kavaa boy. Are you ready?” Lyca merely smiled, it was too late for him anyway. “It will hurt, and if you take anything, if you accept anything, if you get touched or bit or kissed or confused, you will die.”

“WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?!” Eliza screamed, that pretty face of hers smattered with tears like an unfinished painting. “JUST DO IT.”

“Like I said boy, ride it out.” The woman repeated, a red flash slashed her hand. The woman did not seem to notice, she leaned down and pressed her meagre cut against his gaping wound. “Remember not to…”

Lyca’s consciousness faded away.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” Eliza screamed.

“Oh look at that! We have another one!” Lyca opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a room, a wooden one. There was no door nor any windows, but it wasn’t an unpleasant room: all stout wood finely polished, thick fur carpets, a fireplace. Now two fireplaces. Now only one. Lyca blinked and stopped looking into the flame. “Well boy, who sent you?”

“Who sent me? I don’t know.” Lyca turned to the voices. It was four old men feasting around a small table. Now three. Now two men, two women. Five men. “Who are you?”

“Joshua.” A man’s replied followed by another one.

“John.”

“Solomon.”

“Adam.”

“Mary.”

“He’s not fit for us.”

“No he isn’t.”

“Don’t bother boy, you can’t see, so don’t bother looking.” A chair slid backwards for Lyca. “Sit and rest.”

“I…” Lyca stood up and felt the wound in his chest. His arm went to his side, the wound was still there but he couldn’t feel it. He looked down, saw the blood flowing out of his body and shuddered. It didn’t hurt whatsoever but he should obviously be dead by now. His ribs were in sight, his organs exposed. He touched himself and felt nothing.

“He’s not fit for us.” One of the voices replied.

“Not at all, send him off.”

The house disappeared and Lyca fell through the sky.

“I’m no healer.” The woman replied coldly.

Lyca landed in the middle of a beach. Far away, there was a woman sitting on some rock. Eyes closed, she hummed and strummed a harp to herself. Lyca looked around, nothing about him changed, the wound was still there, it was still bleeding but apart from the change in scenery, it was as if he was frozen in time. “Hello?” Lyca shouted.

“Hello.” The woman’s voice was a melodic choir. “Come closer.” Lyca took a step in the sand. Suddenly, he was stood on the rock next to her. “Very good, that’s talent right there.” The woman said, Lyca felt stupid for blushing at the complement.

“So where am I?”

“Somewhere.” The woman replied. “So what do you want?”

“What do I…?” Lyca thought for a few moments, the woman seemed patient and pleasant. She put her harp down on the rock and kept smiling. “I want to be healed I think.” Lyca said and pointed to his chest. She smiled at him as if she was his own mother.

“Liar.”

A flick of a delicate finger and Lyca was sent flying towards the ocean.

“But you tried, didn’t you?” Edmonton said.

Lyca tumbled through the air, hit the water’s surface and emerged on the other side. He was in a cave, cold and crystalline. Something was moving the distance, a giant eye covered in scales. “A human? Here?” The voice echoed around the cave.

“I honestly don’t know where I am.” Lyca backed away and tried to explain.

“I’ve heard that before.” The voice boomed.

“I MEAN IT!” Lyca shouted as the crystals around him turned to teeth. The floor became a tongue and he was swallowed.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“My arts work alone, from within. I merely set him down the right path.”

“AHH!!!” Lyca screamed as he came to a stop. He was on a net, soft and silky and sticky. It spiralled around him, grabbed at his arms, coiled around his throat as if trying to choke him.

“Another feast! Who sent you?” A voice asked. Lyca turned and had to contain his disgust. A giant spider, all black and sleek was approaching him. A dozen red eyes focused on him, avarice practically leaking out of them. Its mouth was large enough to fit his entire arm, one of those huge fangs was the size of his entire body.

“I don’t fucking know! Who the fuck are you people?!” Lyca screamed at the insect. It stopped.

“You’re not afraid?”

“I’M PISSED OFF!” Lyca tugged at the silk binding him.

“Ahh…” The spider seemed stumped for a moment before taking a few more steps towards him. “Well, I suppose anger is an expression of fear after all.”

“WHY IS IT TAKING THIS LONG?” Eliza screamed again.

The webs around Lyca set alight. The spider shrieked and fled as Lyca stood up and threw the ashes off himself. The hole in his chest didn’t worry him whatsoever. “STOP! STOP! STOP! I’LL SHOW YOU!” The spider screamed.

“Show me what?”

“Here! Look!” One of the spider’s eight legs extended towards a giant hole in the ground. Lyca didn’t even know how he didn’t notice it before. It emitted a green light, like a gate to the afterlife.

“What about it?” Lyca stepped towards the edge and felt something sharp on his back. The spider’s leg. It pushed him forwards, he tumbled in to the sound of cackling laughter.

Lyca fell and he swore to kill that spider as the green light swallowed him.

“You should leave.” The woman said.

Lyca fell towards a grassy field. There was a girl there, a beautiful girl: the girl of his dreams. All smiles, with flowers in her hair and a yellow dress. She burst out in laughter as landed on her and knocked them both to the ground. Lyca pushed himself off her and took a step back. “Who are you?”

“Who am I silly?” The girl talked as if speaking to a child, those endless eyes of hers as blue as the sky above them. “You don’t know me?”

“I don’t! So explain!” Lyca shouted.

“Oh no, did you bump your head?” She came over and patted him. “There there. It’s alright now, you’re safe with me.” Lyca took a step back from her. Her grin didn’t drop. “What? You don’t think I’m going to hurt you?”

“It’s been that way before.” Lyca said. That toothy grin became a sinister smile. That endless sky in her eyes became a fierce ocean. She dropped the tone.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The world shifted, Lyca grew small, or maybe she grew large, and he plunged into that ocean in her eyes.

“I WOULD RATHER DIE!” Eliza shouted at the woman. “YOU DID THIS!”

Lyca didn’t touch the water. He didn’t want to get wet again. His feet merely touched the surface and he took a step. “You’re not going to acknowledge me?” Someone said behind him. Lyca turned, a sailor in a small row-boat. A fat man, in a hat and smoking.

“Do you have anything to tell me or are you just going to send me somewhere else?”

“It is how it is. Don’t ask questions.” The fisherman said, his voice grim. “And I apologize for this.” He took out his rod and cast it into the water. “If you make it back, make it quick.” Lyca stopped moving and merely crossed his arms. A monster burst out of the water and swallowed him whole.

“The further he goes, the harder it is. You didn’t do him any favours with that wound.” The woman stared Eliza down.

Lyca travelled through the fishes’ guts before the monster’s liver asked him more nonsense. He didn’t even pay it any mind at this point. It merely spat him out into a river of fire. A woman sat on the bank: skin crimson, hair black and clothes none. Lyca did not care. She threw him into the river and he landed on a mountain. The snow talked to him, an avalanche swallowed him and he opened his eyes in a bar. The first drink set him spiralling into a ravine.

“IF HE DOES NOT WAKE UP, I WILL KILL YOU!” Eliza screamed. The woman didn’t even react as Fleur came over and hugged Ela.

The ravine sent Lyca through a cave. The cave sent him through a house. Location after location as Lyca spiralled further.

Lyca’s lifeless lips mumbled an unintelligible sound. The woman’s eyes flared as Eliza hugged him further. “This is it.”

Lyca stared at the forest around him. A wolf approached him. A horrendous grey shaggy beast, all matted fur and overflowing fangs. It stared at him with red eyes. “So you’re here.” The wolf barked at him, but he understood it perfectly.

Lyca ignored the wolf, he sat down next to a tree and thought about what to do. “Follow me.” The wolf said, Lyca didn’t even make a single movement.

“Die.” He told the wolf. The animal turned to him, its maw stretched to smile at him.

“Finally.” It said. “Now return.”

The wolf jumped at Lyca. He did not react. Those mangled teeth tore at the wound in his side. He did not react. The grass around turned into his blood, the tree became liquid, the sun faded away into darkness. The sky followed sun after that and Lyca floated in his own blood. He did not react.

“So will he make it?” Eliza’s voice was hoarse from crying. The woman’s eyes shone as if they were looking at a treasure when they travelled over Lyca’s body.

“That all depends on his own will.”

A figure appeared before him. A thin man in a cloak darker than the blackness around them. A ghastly fellow: cheeks hollow and eyes dull. He held a scales in one hand, in the other, a scythe carved a trail through the blood on the ground as if was rock. “So we meet at last.” The man said. Lyca did not react. He merely stared at the fellow, he knew it moment his eyes touched his: Death stood before him.

“I have things to do.” Lyca said.

“Everyone does.” Death replied.

“I’m not everyone.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

Death lifted the scythe as Lyca searched for his wand. It wasn’t on him. The harvest took less than a second, to Lyca, it felt like eternity. He watched the scythe reap towards him as if he was grain.

“LYCA!!!!!!!” Eliza screamed.

Lyca stared at Death. How did he move? How did he escape the harvest? He pushed those thoughts out of his head. Those weren’t questions that needed to be answered. He stared at Death from across the pond of blood. “Another one.” Death said.

Lyca did react. He waved his hand.

Death set aflame. Neither party reacted. They watched each other like statues.

Death turned to ash.

“He’s done it.” The woman said.

“What?” Eliza asked.

The pond of blood turned to ash around Lyca. The air around him turned still, cracked and shattered to reveal the forest. The wolf wasn’t here. Lyca felt his chest. It was in him, where it had buried itself into his wound. Lyca waved his hands.

The leaves set alight. Then the branches, the trees, the grass turned brown and started to burn. After an hour, there was nothing there. Only ash lay around Lyca, but he knew the route to take. He took a step along the invisible path, it was clear to him as day.

He retraced his steps. The house burned down. The cave melted around him. The ravine tried to swallow him, the rocks shattered before he did. The snowy mountain cracked and fell into the ocean. The river of fire burned out, that crimson woman on the rocks was left was left a corpse.

He was a bacteria to the fish, an illness and a cancer. Each step tore through the fat and muscle until he entered the ocean. The fisherman was still there, still smoking, still fishing. “Make it quick.” Lyca did.

He saw that beautiful girl again in that picturesque field. “You’ve come back!” She took a step towards him and collapsed. Blood spilled out of her mouth as the grass around them died. The sky cracked, Lyca looked up and left the corpse of that dreamlike figure there.

The spider cackled and screamed. It was the coward and liar in his heart. He took pleasure with killing it. The webs burned first, then its carapace cracked. The insect rushed him, a blur to the naked eye. It moved like lightning. Lyca’s fire was faster than lightning.

Lyca took a step out of the cave and behind the woman singing on the rock. She strummed her harp. “What do you want now?” She asked.

“Everything.”

“Truth at last.” The harp snapped in half. She spread her arms out, looked up at the sky and set alight. Lyca saw the crystals around him, and he saw the crystals start to melt under his will. Lyca was back in the house. He saw the people sitting around the table perfectly. Four men, one woman. All middle-aged, all tired.

“Another returnee.” Lyca did not say a word. A door appeared in the wall. After this long? Lyca ignored the door. He waved his hand. The table around set alight, the hearth burst with flame, the five people drowned in fire. The door was a trap, an easy way out.

If it was easy, it was not worth it.

The wood started to crack under the heat. The house cracked like pottery and tore like paper. Lyca swam in the darkness before he realised what he was looking at: The back of his own eyelids.

He opened his eyes.