As I continue to inspect Holiday’s soul, the black snake–who had seemingly been absent since we entered Eternity–emerges from the collar of Holiday’s shirt and stares at me with its slitted, yellow eyes. I have no idea how it keeps sneaking up on me; I think I would’ve noticed the vital signature of a snake on the ascendant’s chest. “You’re searching for the wrong answers,” it says, brushing its head against Holiday’s neck. “He likes to watch people try and fail, but failure alone is a poor teacher.”

“Failure is the original teacher,” Holiday retorts, peering awkwardly down at the snake. “Systematic trial and error is the root of progress.”

I drop Holiday’s hand. “I thought time was precious? I don’t think it makes sense to watch me muddle around. I don’t think I learned anything about ascendant energy.”

The snake slithers over Holiday’s clavicle and looks as though it’s trying to whisper in his ear, its diamond head angled by the man’s earlobe.

“Like Crimson Teeth said, whatever allows ascendants to cut through layers of reality in Eternity isn’t specific to any one affinity. If that’s what you’re trying to do, you’ll fail,” Maria murmurs from behind. She holds her hand out in front of her and narrows her eyes.

The snake coils around Holiday’s bicep. “It might help to remember what it was like touching your affinity for the first time.”

I grit my teeth. Awakening my affinity was...a complex moment, one of absolute despair leading into a glimmer of hope. It’s difficult to untangle the scene and isolate how I felt breaking through.

Suddenly a blueish light flickers at the end of Maria’s index finger like a poorly-lit match, sparking once before winking out. She recoils, eyes wide with surprise.

Holiday stares at her blankly as though he’s self-destructed, unable to process what’s happening. The black snake hisses, baring its fangs in annoyance. Just after Maria and I share a look of mutual concern, Holiday clamps the snake’s maw with two fingers and begins to laugh uproariously.

“See? Helping them along isn’t the same as giving them the answer,” the snake quips, unsilenced by Holiday’s finger muzzle.

My shock is somewhere between Maria’s and Holiday’s. Maria isn’t even an ascendant and she’s managed to touch the ascendant world’s energy first. I’m not sure if Maria is freakishly talented or if I’m just incompetent.

Maria turns to Holiday. “I thought it wouldn’t be possible for me to use ascendant energy?”

Holiday loosens his hold on the snake’s snout and strokes it between its eyes. “I’ll admit, we haven’t had a case like you, Maria Elde Sezakuin. Fundamentally, no non-ascendant has ever come here through amber from the outside, at least not to my knowledge.”

“His knowledge is extensive,” the snake says, tongue tickling the inside of Holiday’s ear.

The ascendant angles his head to the side and beams at the black serpent, releasing his fingers. “Exactly.”

“Though for wisdom, he has me.”

Holiday snorts but is still smiling as he returns his focus to Maria. “The effects of ascendant energy on non-ascendants is clear beyond the borders of the ascendant world, and so is the supposition that your body will wear out. I assumed that your body would reject ascendant energy entirely, but it seems you can control it at least while you’re in Eternity.”

He walks over and grabs Maria’s hand gently, his eyes inspecting her fingers. “Try it again.”

I sense Maria’s pulse quicken, her eyebrows twitching slightly. She looks calm on the outside, but I can tell she isn’t fully comfortable. Holiday has an intensity to him that can be disconcerting. As he gazes into Maria’s eyes now, I can tell he’s turned his unnerving factor up to the maximum. I assume he’s doing it to push her.

She cycles her breath, but no energy appears after a minute of slow breathing and concentration.

“What did you think of before?” I wonder out loud.

Maria’s eyes snap to mine, her posture straightening. “I ruminated on the worst moment of my life.”

“Perhaps not just the worst,” the snake says. “But rather a moment of great flux. The intensity of feeling is what matters.”

Maria sighs and pulls away from Holiday, expression inscrutable. “Can we keep going? Dunai, being the genius that he is, will most certainly figure it all out eventually, and I now have confidence in myself.”

Her tone is polite, but the venom in her words is obvious. “Of course I will,” I retort. “I have all of eternity to learn.”

Holiday looks between the two of us and rolls his eyes. “If the two of you are just going to fight, and you both agree that you’ve learned what I have to teach you, I’m just going to leave.”

Maria and I both snap our heads around to face the flighty ascendant.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I thought you were going to escort us for a day, acclimate us to Eternity?” I blurt.

Holiday winces. “I thought it had to be better than waiting in the Long Hall, but there’s nothing to do here but pick a direction and fly, and this area is terrible for teaching you how to use ascendant energy.”

I look at the snake in the hopes that it will say something refuting its perch, but it remains silent.

“I still have plenty of questions. Why don’t we talk and fly?” Maria asks.

Holiday runs a hand through his hair. “Make sure you both stay close. Try and see how I’m using the energy to move. I think of it like swimming without moving.”

So...sinking?

Holiday gestures forward. “After you two.”

I send myself into the air just as Maria crouches down. A moment later she springs off the earth, fire propelling her forward and knocking over one of the nearby tree husks. Despite our head start, Holiday catches up in a single fluid leap, arms held just behind his waist. While Maria is constantly working to remain aloft, sweat dripping down her temple, Holiday glides effortlessly forward.

“Now that we’re on our way again...questions?”

“People return from the ascendant world,” Maria asserts, her words clear despite her exertion. “How?”

“That’s a complicated question.” Holiday doesn’t say anything else, a cheery smile plastered on his face. I suppress the urge to groan in annoyance.

Maria appears unfazed in her follow up. “If I wanted to return from where I came...what method would be more likely to get me back within a year?”

“The most common way ascendants return to their own worlds is by one-way beacons. Such a beacon can connect to the one you used to arrive here, so long as it still exists.”

Does Holiday mean to say that the beacon we used to get here is still on our old world, and can be used as an anchor to return?

“What about other worlds?” I wonder. Ari certainly didn’t arrive by beacon.

Holiday brushes a stray lock of hair from his mouth. “If a world isn’t your own, you’ll be rejected by the energy there just as Maria faces rejection here. You won’t be able to take a beacon to arrive there, but you would be able to take a beacon back to Eternity. It’s what happens when we descend.”

Maria stares calmly ahead as the scenery passes by. “How do I obtain a beacon, Crimson Teeth?”

“The median age at which ascendants receive one-way return beacons home is one-hundred and thirty-five, where age is counted from the moment they’ve entered the ascendant world. And that metric is sourced from the small subset of people that receive them.”

“It’s a game of luck,” I hypothesize. “These are people searching for a way to leave, but it takes them years to secure a beacon. They must be in short supply.”

“Or, perhaps only a small subset of ascendants want to leave, and only decide to depart after a hundred years of carefree exploration,” Maria retorts. She has a point, but I think that if it were easier to obtain beacons, more people would go back and forth. The ascendants who have returned to our world haven’t left in recent memory, suggesting that they might not have a way to return. “Crimson Teeth, how do I obtain a return beacon?”

He gestures out with an arm. “Journey toward the edge of Eternity and you might get lucky enough to come across someone who will make you one.” I can tell from his uninterested expression that he doesn’t think it’s remotely possible for her to obtain one. He thinks she’s wasting his time, and he’s trying to let us know.

“That’s not particularly actionable advice,” I point out.

“Unfortunately, it’s the best advice we can give. The ascendants with the power to send others back...they’ve been alive for a long time, and they’ve traveled past innumerable mapped planes and into the distant unknown.”

“Something just occurred to me,” Holiday adds, seemingly changing the subject. He drops from the air and waits with crossed arms for us to join him. “Dunai, won’t you try something?” He turns toward Maria. “Could you try doing to her...what you did to me?”

...What?

He chuckles softly. “To clarify, see if you can touch her soul. I know what you were looking for, what you would have found. See if she is the same as I.”

“No,” Maria spits, voice hard as iron, eyes filled with disgust.

Holiday grins. “I’d let him do it if I were you. If I wanted to live.”

“You said I have a year,” Maria mutters, averting her gaze. “What are you implying?”

“It’s in my nature to experiment,” Holiday admits. “So I have some selfish motivation, but fundamentally...wouldn’t you like to know if your unique status as a non-ascendant in the ascendant world comes with any unforeseen defects?”

“Why do you suspect something to be wrong with my soul?” she grunts, flashing a glare my way. “And even if there is something wrong with it, would knowing do anything?”

“I worry that a single poor death might spell your end, Sezakuin. It has to do with a fundamental aspect of the world that I believe Dunai discovered while investigating my body.” He strokes the head of the snake. “Did you two know that very few ascendants enter into the amber while conscious?”

I’m not sure where he’s going with the new question, but I’m intrigued. “Why not?”

Holiday glances my way. “Their assigned descendant knocks them out before they’re brought to the Long Hall and thrown into the amber. Most ascendants have no memories of the Long Hall whatsoever.”

“What does remembering the Long Hall have to do with my soul?” Maria asks. She’s collected herself, her expression serene but firm.

“How you come to Eternity influences how you perceive it. Many people survive their descendant’s trial, then immediately wake up here. Few have control over Death, and fewer still mastery over souls, thus most fail to find the discrepancy between Eternity and the world they left behind. Dunai noticed it in just a few minutes, to his credit.”

Maria appears unfazed. “So...Eternity isn’t real, but a simulation? We enter the amber, our bodies suspended in hardened liquid while our minds are sent to this other land.”

I shake my head. This place isn’t like the Infinity Loop or a mundane dilation chamber. Eternity is something...different. “It is real...but it doesn’t follow the same rules.”

Holiday nods slowly. “Eternity is almost like...a dream. For the dream to continue, it needs ascendants; and for the ascendants to continue, they need Eternity. Which brings me back to the question of you, Sezakuin: I didn’t think you would be able to come to Eternity without consequence, but your body is hale and you’re even able to use ascendant energy. There’s one place I am unable to check where things might be...different.”

Holiday gestures to me. I clear my throat: “Unless I can touch your soul, there’s no way to tell.”

“Why not form a small oath?” Holiday suggests, looking between the two of us.