Grant opened his eyes. Looking around, he saw he was back in the dark void he had been transported to when Kyra had checked his source, back in the suburban world. He remembered everything that had happened while he was here - meeting that man, the weird room being built, the conversation - but he also remembered not remembering any of it when he was conscious.
He spun around. In front of him was the tent that had been there previously, but the room behind it was no longer a mere framework. There were three buildings now present, and he recognised all of them. They were all of the houses he had lived in across his life. The closest one was his childhood home, where he had lived until he was 15, and beyond that was the larger, double-story house they had moved to when his mum had changed jobs, where he had lived until going to university. The final one was the house he was currently living in with his roommates, Harry and Josh.
“Not bad, are they?” a familiar voice said behind him.
Grant spun back around to the direction he had been facing when he woke, and there now was the dark man he had spoken to last time. He had changed his clothes, now wearing a majestic navy robe with gold trim that trailed on the floor behind him. Grant noted that, unlike last time, his hands were perfectly human, the sharp black claws now merely normal nails. Grant stared at him for a moment, unsure what to say.
“What do you mean?” he asked eventually.
“The houses, of course!” the man said grandly, sweeping his arms towards the buildings. “Rather accurate, no? After all, given I’ve only been here for a few hours, I think I have made remarkable progress. I feel like we have known each other forever.”
Grant simply stood, still lost.
The man laughed. “It’s how we get to know you, see? I needed to know what kind of person you were, how you would react to… well, everything. So, the easiest way to do that was to view your memories.” He started walking towards the closest building. “It’s a bit of a visual metaphor, see? By reconstructing the places you’ve lived, places that resonate strongly in your mind, where your mind feels safe, I can learn more about you. Look, I’ll show you.”
He walked up the front steps and opened the cream-coloured door, gesturing for Grant to follow him.
Grant stepped through the door, and was immediately assailed by flashes of his childhood. Scents and sounds and memories crashed into and over him, driving him to his knees as his mind struggled to cope with the onslaught of information. After a minute, the flow began to ebb, and he was able to struggle to his feet and glare at the man in front of him.
“What the fuck was that?” he asked angrily, stumbling slightly as a particularly vivid recollection hit him. “What did you do to me?”
“Nothing,” the man answered, “that is just a side effect of entering a reflective space such as this. That is why it is such a potent way to gain an insight into your personality, you see?”
Grant stared at him, before realisation hit him and he clenched his fists. “Wait a second,” he growled, “are you saying you’ve been rummaging through my memories?”
The man nodded. “Yes, I have. I am sorry, but it was entirely necessary. I needed to know if you would be capable of completing our task.”
Grant clenched his fists tighter. This person, this thing, had dragged him out of his life, trapped him in a dangerous prison world, and now had the audacity to stroll through his mind, seeing his most private moments laid bare. Grant snapped. He charged at the man, lowering his shoulder and preparing to barrel into him.
The lights flickered.
Grant blinked, confused. He was seated at a table that he recognised as the dining table from his current home. The man - Ki - sat across from him.
How did I know his name is Ki? Grant thought, frowning. The anger he had been feeling at the stranger’s - at Ki’s - intrusion had vanished, replaced by a sense of… determination.
Ki smiled at him, hands cupping a steaming cup of what looked like tea.
“I’m sure you have questions,” he said, taking a sip. “Feel free to ask them.”
Grant shook his head in confusion. “What… what just happened? I was… I was mad at you… you… you looked at my memories! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Ki - How do I know his name is Ki?! - nodded. “Yes, I did. Yet, despite the memory of being angry with me, I suspect you no longer are, yes?”
He… was right. Grant could remember the anger that had come over him, the sense of a profound intrusion that had driven him to attack someone for the first time in his life… yet Grant was no longer angry about it. The only anger he felt was the anger attached to the memory itself, a distant echo. Grant frowned deeper. “What did you do to me?” he demanded angrily. “Did you somehow fuck with my mind even more? Brainwash me or something?”
Ki chuckled. “Come now, my friend, you know perfectly well I did not.”
“Friend? Just how exactly do you get off calling me…” Grant trailed off, studying the man in front of him. He… did consider Ki a friend. He felt a connection, a common goal, a shared agreement that bound them. More than that, he realised that he trusted Ki. He somehow knew, deep down, that Ki was someone he could rely on, someone that would help him get home.
“What… What did you do to me?” he repeated, less upset this time.
“We spoke,” Ki said simply. “I told you everything. The story of my existence, the nature of the world you are in, the truth about your fellow Forsaken.” Sadness touched his face. “The identity of our enemy. And, most importantly for you, the way home.”
“What are you talking about? You didn’t tell me any of that.”
“Oh but I did. After you hit me around a bit, you calmed down enough to listen. So I told you everything you needed to know. And, at the end of our conversation, you agreed to hide the memories away.”
Grant gaped at him. “And why exactly would I do that?”
“I told you,” Ki said, “when you tried to talk to me before, while you were awake. Our enemy, and several of the Forsaken, each possesses the ability to read minds. So, for your safety, you agreed to lock the memories away until you need them. It’s like… well, imagine your mind is a fire. To those with telepathy, they move through a world of bright, burning minds, full of drive and ardour and, most usefully for them, information. When you learn too much, too fast, or gain knowledge that reframes your view of the world and those around you, that’s like throwing a bottle of accelerant right in the middle of that fire. If you woke up with all this knowledge, the secrets of this world bouncing around your skull, you would draw the attention of even the most mild telepathic talent immediately. And disaster would soon follow.”
Grant knew this. As Ki spoke the words, he felt them resonate. Grant knew this was true, knew in his core that Ki was telling the truth. Or… “Hang on. I know you’re telling me the truth, but, really, it’s not the truth, is it? It’s just the same as what you told me before! But maybe you lied in our first conversation, and you’re just repeating the lies now to make me think you’re telling the truth!”
Ki nodded gravely, though his eyes danced with amusement. “Yes, possibly. I could be lying. Maybe I’m the villain. The only comfort I can offer you is that if that thought is occurring to you now, rest assured that it occurred to you when we spoke, and if my answers had not satisfied you, you would not have buried your memories.”
“But you’re the one who did that, aren’t you? You erased my memories of the first time we spoke. You could have done that regardless of what I wanted.”
“Actually, no. It’s true, I hid your memories of our first meeting. But hiding memories from your waking mind is trivial, and I do admit that I can do that any time I want. In here, however? Surely you have deduced where we are.”
Grant looked out the window to his right. Outside, he could see the edges of the other houses, and the inky black abyss that yawned beyond. “Well, I’m gonna guess that it’s my mind. Although it’s a bit upsetting to know that so much of my brain is apparently empty space.”
Ki let out a genuine, hearty laugh. “No, no, never fear. Your mind is quite active. This is merely a representation. As I said before, this place is a visual metaphor. A way for your mind to speak to me, to bridge the gap between our consciousnesses. While you are here, you are in control. You have access to the full capabilities of your mind, your memories, your thoughts. When you wake, this place may become a distant memory, but while you are here, only you decide what remains hidden. That is why you were disoriented when you first entered your childhood home, your brain was unlocking all the memories that have faded from your conscious mind, and it took a moment for you to adapt. I cannot change your memories, not while you are here.”
Grant considered his words. “Well. I guess I don’t really know that for sure, do I? But… my gut says to trust you. Which I guess is actually me telling me to trust you. Because I did trust you. Which is why I don’t remember trusting you. What a mindfuck.” He rubbed his eyes in frustration.
“An accurate summary of the situation, yes,” Ki said. “However, while I cannot hide your memories from you, we did arrange things so that I could release them. Parts of our discussion will be released to you either when they are relevant enough that your mind overcomes the barrier you placed on them, or when I deem it necessary for you to remember. As a demonstration…” He closed his eyes.
Grant’s shoulder connected with the man in front of him, driving them both to the floor. He mounted him, raising his arm. “Stay the fuck out of my head!” he yelled, slamming his fist down into the man’s face. He hit the bridge of the man’s nose with all his force, expecting a burst of blood and pain. But nothing happened. The unknown being just looked at him, cocked an eyebrow, and sighed slightly.
“Feel free to strike me however much you wish,” he said calmly, “but I assure you, you cannot harm me here. Nor can I harm you, even if I wished to. Which I most assuredly do not.”
Grant gritted his teeth, the anger and fear that had been bubbling beneath the surface all day overpowering any sense of reason. He brought his fist down again, and again, and again, raining blows down on the man underneath him. But although each blow connected, and he felt the impact reverberate up his arm, his attacks had no effect. The man simply watched him, looking slightly bored. After a few moments, Grant ran out of steam, the anger and fear evaporating away and revealing the despair that underpinned them.
“Please,” he said desperately, tears coming to the corners of his eyes, “please send me back”.
“I am sorry,” the man said, voice full of compassion, “but I cannot. It was not I who brought you here, and your return is not up to me.” He reached up and grasped Grant’s shoulder, meeting his eyes. “But, I promise you. If we work together, we will return to your world. And, if we are lucky, we will do so in time to save it.”
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Grant blinked his tears away at that, startled, and returned the man’s gaze. “What… What do you mean, save it?”
The man cocked an eyebrow at him, looking down at his body significantly. Grant sighed, nodding, and rose to his feet, reaching down to pull the man to his feet.
“Thank you,” he said, brushing off his robe. “I hope you feel better. I know that humans often need to express their anger against someone.”
“Humans, huh?” Grant said. “So… you’re not human?”
The man laughed. “No, I am not. Perhaps a proper introduction is in order, before we discuss your role in preventing the apocalypse.” He smiled at Grant and bowed slightly. “I am the Third Traveller, the Creator of the Rift, the Progenitor of the Magi, and the Solitary Numen. You may call me Ki.”
“I am Grant Summers. I don’t have any titles,” Grant said dryly.
Ki laughed again. “Indeed. Pretentious of me, I know, but I haven’t had the chance to talk to anyone for several thousand years. Forgive me an indulgence or two.”
“You’re forgiven. Now what did you mean about the end of the world?”
Ki grew sombre. “Ah. That.” He strode past Grant, moving to the kitchen. “Perhaps a nice meal will make that a more palatable conversation. Please, allow me.”
Grant and Ki sat down at his childhood dining table. Ki had, over the past few minutes, pulled various dishes seemingly out of the air at random and placed them on the table. Grant recognised all the meals. His favourite pizza, dad’s lasagne, mum’s chocolate cake recipe. Some of his favourite meals growing up.
“So,” he said, staring at the feast before him, “I had assumed that we were somehow in my mind. Is there any point in me actually eating these?”
Ki nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes! These are fragments of memories, fragments far more powerful than you can recall while awake. They contain the full sensory experience of eating, not to mention the nostalgia and familial love you associate with each meal. They have no nutritional value, but I am certain you will find them quite comforting. And by partaking in the meal with me, I can share in that experience with you. My first taste of food in millenia. I’m quite excited.”
Ki summoned a plate out of the air and began loading it with a slice of every food available. Every time the plate got close to being full, it expanded to accommodate whatever new food he wanted to add. Grant smiled slightly at the eagerness of the man. For some reason, seeing Ki getting so worked up over the opportunity to grab a slice of pizza eased a lot of the fears and unease that had been occupying his mind.
“So, I don’t want to interrupt your first meal in aeons, but seriously. You said my world is in danger?”
Ki looked up, suddenly bashful, his cheeks bulging grotesquely with a mixture of foods that seemed wildly incompatible with each other. He held up a finger and swallowed the entire mouthful down in one gulp, a physically impossible feat for Grant.
“Yes,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I did indeed. You are right to be concerned, I apologise. My excitement got away with me a little.”
“No, no,” Grant said, waving his hand, “by all means, continue eating. Just, maybe eat smaller bites, so you can fill me in on, in your words, ‘the apocalypse’?”
“Of course,” Ki said, leaning back in his chair and studying Grant. “It’s tricky, however. I don’t entirely know where to start, and I don’t want to tell you too much. For reasons that I will explain,” he said, raising a hand to forestall Grant’s interruption, “it is dangerous to tell you too much. I have an idea on how to fix that, but it requires a great deal of trust on your part, and I am still uncertain how you will react to my tale.”
He sighed. “When in doubt, start at the beginning, I suppose.” He took one more bite of the pizza, before straightening his back and clasping his hands.
“My name is Ki,” he began. “Or, at least, that is a name I have used. One of many over the years. I am one of the Numen.”
Ki opened his eyes.
Grant lurched forward in shock, disjointed, the memory washing over him. He took a slow, deep breath, calming himself as he focused on what he had seen. Numen. Not a word Grant knew. The name of Ki’s species, I guess?. Although it was an interesting phrasing, ‘one of the Numen’. That seemed to carry certain implications.
“I cut it off before you learned too much,” Ki said, “but I felt it was important to get you accustomed to the sensation. It is entirely possible I will have to force a recall on you in a dangerous situation, so it is vital that you learn to accept the memory and move on, instead of focusing on it and becoming disoriented.”
“Yeah, right,” Grant said absently, still going over the memory in his mind, before Ki’s words sunk in and he realised he was doing the exact opposite. “Sure, sorry. I’m focused.”
“Good,” said Ki, “but don’t worry, I will unlock some memories over the next few days to further accustom your mind to the experience.” He frowned. “And I have to hope that the word ‘Numen’ alone is not enough to signal your knowledge to our enemy.”
Grant looked at him curiously. “You’ve mentioned an enemy a few times now. What do you mean exactly?”
“That is most certainly dangerous information. For now, all I will tell you is that one of the Forsaken is not what they appear. I do not know who, but they are the obstacle to our escape. We must identify and stop them before we can return to the true world.”
“Just to be clear, when you say stop… you mean kill, right?”
Ki took a deep breath. “If we must,” he said quietly. “But I would rather find another way. For while I call them an enemy, they are in fact one of the best, most courageous people ever to live, and I would regret taking such a life for the rest of my existence.”
Grant raised an eyebrow at this, although as with a lot of the conversation he felt less surprise or shock than he expected, as though he knew this fact already. “Well, that suits me just fine. I’ve never killed or even hurt anyone before, and I’m happy keeping that trend going as long as possible. Forever, hopefully.”
“As do I, my friend.”
The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, Grant going over everything he had learned, and reflecting more on his feelings towards Ki. He still couldn’t discount the possibility that the entity opposite him had some nefarious plan and had somehow successfully deceived him into erasing his memories, but that more than anything actually made him trust Ki more. He couldn’t think of any reason why Ki would encourage him to wipe their conversation from his mind, and his promises about not having the power to do so rang true. In his core, with his whole being, Grant knew that this was his unfiltered, unchanged mind. Ki had no power in this space.
In the end, it came down to not whether or not to trust Ki, but whether or not to trust himself.
“So what’s your plan?” he said eventually.
Ki smiled, tension rushing out of his body in relief. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “for trusting me.”
Grant shrugged. “Not really much choice. I notice that despite what you said about not changing my memories while we’re here, I could just wake up tomorrow morning and you could make me forget all of this, so I don’t have much of a choice.”
“That is true,” Ki admitted, “although it is much harder than you would think, and will become even more so as you come into your power. Also, you would still remember the conversations we had while you were awake yesterday. But, rest assured, it is no longer necessary for you to forget my existence. Which, actually, brings us rather neatly to the plan.” He closed his eyes once more.
Grant and Ki wandered through the void. Grant wasn’t exactly sure what he was stepping on, or how he wasn’t tumbling downwards forever, so he raised this point with Ki, who simply replied “It is your mind. Where would you fall?”
“Fair enough,” Grant chuckled. “So. What’s step one of your master plan?”
“The first thing we must do is to disguise my presence. The easiest way to do so, I feel, would be to mimic the abilities of a different Source. The house you have been given is actually ideal to this end, as the one who created it and I have some overlap in our affinities, so it will require a lot less energy to imitate them.”
Grant frowned. “Hang on, how can I do that? I thought the others said that each Source - or Numen, I guess - has unique powers?”
Ki shook his head. “An inaccurate statement. While each of us has an affinity for certain aspects of magic, any of us can manipulate the fabric of reality as we wish. It simply requires a greater investment of energy to do something against our nature or skills. And by the by, for safety's sake, it would be better to refer to us as Sources. Using the other word in the waking world could spell disaster. Best not to let bad habits set in.”
“Yeah, fair point. Okay, so mimic this other guy’s powers. I’m guessing you know what sorts of things I should be able to do in that case?”
“Indeed. His primary abilities revolve around thermodynamics - the creation and transfer of heat and energy.”
Grant thought on this for a second. “So, basically, fireballs?”
Ki laughed. “Simplistic, but yes. I remember he once spent a decade doing nothing else but perfecting his control over such an attack, to the point where he could send fire streaking through an entire forest and leave everything untouched, except the being he wished to kill.” He sobered. “Sadly, towards the end, that being often did not deserve such a fate.”
“Well I definitely won’t be practising that,” Grant said, shivering at the thought.
“I know,” Ki said, smiling at him, “a fact that makes me optimistic about our future. Not many humans can resist the temptation of power such as you now possess.”
“Well, all I care about when it comes to this power is getting back home. So, keep going. I need to mimic this guy Jorgen’s powers - so basically, summon fire, manipulate fire, breathe fire from my mouth, et cetera.”
“Breathing fire may be a touch dramatic, but yes. Not only fire though - a necessary consequence of being able to control fire is to control cold as well. Luckily, I have a similar affinity, so the fire will not be a problem. The real difficulty will be his other main area of control, the earth.”
Grant laughed. “Fire and earth, really?” He raised his arms to the side as though speaking to an audience. “Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony…” he intoned dramatically.
Ki laughed along with him. “Yes, I must admit, I did enjoy your memories of television. It gladdens me to see how far humanity has come in the last few millennia.” He grew serious once more. “So, let us ensure they continue to progress, yes?”
Grant grew solemn as he remembered…
… Grant focused on the plan. “So, I pretend to have fire and earth powers, convince them that I have Jorgen’s source.”
Ki nodded. “Indeed. That will alleviate suspicion as to your arrival, although they may wonder more about the missing Sources. Hopefully, as the newcomer, they will not confront you about such issues. The next step is to secure your mind. This Fyodor will likely be a better teacher than I when it comes to using your powers, so once you are practised at drawing on your power, we must create a spell to prevent telepaths from hearing that which we want to keep hidden. Once that is done, we shall be able to speak freely.”
Grant shrugged. “Alrighty then. Sounds like a good first step to me.”
Grant returned to the present far more smoothly than his previous experience. Although the memory was unexpected, he didn’t jerk or startle when it finished, trying his best to remain calm.
“Okay,” he said, exhaling. “Right. Man, that feels bloody weird.”
“I am sure it does,” said Ki, “but I must commend you on remaining unshaken.”
“Yeah, about that,” said Grant, “maybe in the future, don’t just… throw me in the deep end, yeah? If you want me to not react, just… give me some damn warning, okay?”
“Certainly,” Ki agreed politely.
“Alright then. That’s settled. So now, tell me, what was that bit near the end? There was a weird time jump or something?”
Ki took a sip of his tea. “Surely you have worked that out? Although I admit, it is a little complicated. Within that memory, you were reflecting on an earlier part of our conversation - a memory within the memory. That memory would have revealed more information that must remain hidden until such time as you can prevent unwanted attention or intrusions.”
Grant nodded slowly, thinking back. He had been about to remember something when the skip occurred, something about whatever danger Earth was facing. Rerunning the conversation in his mind, something occurred to him, and he frowned. “Hang on, there’s a problem with your plan. You want me to mimic another Source, but from what Kyra said, we start off quite weak, and gradually gain more power over time. And the others said it takes way more power to do things outside your normal area of control. How the hell am I supposed to mimic this guy’s earth powers after only being here a day?”
Ki smiled smugly. “Ah, yes. The answer to that lies in the middle of a memory filled with dangerous knowledge. Suffice it to say, I am no ordinary Source. You will have more power than you know what to do with, I promise you that.” He stood up, draining his remaining tea in one large gulp. “Now then. Unfortunately, we cannot remain here indefinitely. Your mind needs true rest, and talking to me prevents that from happening. So, I suggest we end our conversation there. Remember, do not attempt to contact me tomorrow unless you are alone. Do whatever Fyodor tells you to do in your training - although do be careful not to go overboard. Demonstrating too much power too fast is a sure way to draw unwanted attention.” Raising a hand, his nails elongated rapidly into razor-sharp black talons. “Good luck, Grant. Be vigilant.”
“Hang on just a-” Grant began, before Ki swept his hand down, cutting through the veins on his other arm. Black blood began to pour out of his arm, not a mere drip like last time, but a torrent of viscous liquid that sprayed forth, drenching Grant and filling his vision. He coughed and spluttered, trying to wipe the blood from his face, but he could feel it pooling around his feet, filling the room they sat in. His vision began to grow dim, and the last thing he heard before drifting away was Ki, muttering under his breath, “I hope you don’t get everyone killed.