A slow, gentle vibration stirred Grant from his slumber. He tossed and turned groggily for a moment, trying to let the sensation pass so he could sleep more, but instead the vibrations just grew stronger and stronger. He realised after a while that the vibrations weren’t coming from something outside the room, but from his bed - more specifically, from his wrist. He raised his hand, peering blearily at it, and saw a floating, spectral bracelet of energy that was flashing blue and growing stronger and stronger. He shook his wrist, trying to deactivate it to no avail. Wiping his eyes, he activated his dormant magical sight and flinched as his sensitive eyes were suddenly assailed by the dazzling array of enchantments woven throughout the walls, and most brightly of all, the currently active alarm enchantment. Wincing in pain at the miscalculation, Grant rolled from the bed and started to get up. As soon as his feet touched the floor, the bracelet disappeared and the vibrations stopped. He blinked at his wrist, then at the bed, thinking, before raising his feet and beginning to lie down again. As soon as he was prone, the alarm activated again, even stronger this time. Grant quickly scrambled to his feet, and it disappeared once more. He chuckled. “Just what I always needed,” he muttered to himself as he headed for the shower, “an alarm that won’t let me go back to sleep.”
Grant stepped out of his front door onto the short dirt path that led to his front door.
Testing, testing. Is this thing on? he asked mentally.
There was a short pause, and then a reply came back tinged with the slightest hint of exasperation. You know, anytime you reference technologies or culture foreign to me, it will just take longer for me to understand what you mean, Ki responded.
Grant smiled slightly before heading off down the street towards Maya’s. Yeah, but if you’re gonna be living in my head, you’re gonna have to get used to how I talk. Plus, pop culture on Earth is fucking awesome now compared to when you were last there, so the more you learn about it the more you’ll enjoy it when we make it back.
I like the optimism, Ki said, as long as you do not make such references in the middle of a life-or-death situation. Bad communication will only lead to confusion and mistakes. Now stop smiling, you will draw too much attention.
Grant obeyed. It’s gonna be harder than I thought to talk without giving away that we’re talking. It’s hard not to react at all.
Do not worry, I will not attempt to communicate with you when others are around. Though I would imagine it will get easier the longer we are together.
Grant was silent for a moment, trying to sort out his feelings over the revealed memories from last night. So… gods, huh? he said pensively.
Yes, Ki responded, a touch of hesitation in his voice. But, as I said, not in the way that your kind typically uses the word. And we are, most assuredly, not worthy of any manner of worship or admiration. We are, for the most part, broken, cruel, thoughtless beings with more power than we deserve.
If it makes you feel better, I’m quite confident that most humans wouldn’t fare much better in a similar situation. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, after all, Grant said idly, looking around the streets around him with interest. He hadn’t had the full opportunity to examine the everyday town life until now, and while there was plenty of evidence of magic, he was surprised by how normal a lot of the underlying interactions he observed were. To the right, two men who looked to be in their late twenties were playing some kind of soccer variant, but were moving so quickly that Grant had to briefly imbue himself in order to fully track the movements. Further down the road, he saw a group of women he recognised from Maya’s - although women might be pushing it, as one of them looked to be 16 at most, the youngest looking person he had seen here so far - arguing over a kind of multi-layered 3-D chess board, with mythical creatures instead of the normal pieces, and what looked like doors placed at the edges in random locations. Not technically mythical, I suppose, Grant thought to himself, taking a second glance at the pieces and recognising gryphons, centaurs and the Loch Ness monster amongst them.
A small smile grew on his face as he continued his walk, enjoying the feeling of the town coming to life. A few of the people he saw smiled and nodded to him, though he didn’t know their names or recognise them. He supposed that being the newcomer in such a small, tightly-knit community would make him stand out.
Eventually, he got to Maya’s. He opened the door, stepped inside, and found himself face-to-face with an exiting Bukola.
“Oh, u-uhhh,” he stammered a bit, the foreboding expression on Bukola’s face making his pulse begin to race, “s-sorry, I didn’t see you there. Sorry.” He stepped to the side.
Bukola glared up at him, his short stature not making him any less intimidating, and his rather magnificent beard adding an air of menace for some reason. He was dressed from head to toe in a full-body cloth suit, the same dark colour as his skin, but spattered here and there with alternating lighter and darker splotches. For camouflage, Grant realised.
“You should know,” Bukola said slowly, studying Grant, “that I am going to visit the gryphons today. I will remind them of the folly of attacking one of the Forsaken, even the youngest among us.”
“Oh, great,” Grant said, relaxing slightly, “thanks. I appreciate th-”
“But,” Bukola interrupted, catching Grant’s eyes with his own. Mistrust was plain to see there, as well as a simmering pool of anger that made Grant flinch slightly. “I will also be asking them why they felt the need to attack you. What it is about you that had them so riled up, why your powers weren’t working, and just exactly who the fuck you are and what you’re up to. I’ve put too much into this community to let some snake fuck it up.” He pushed past Grant and stalked down the street.
Grant blinked his eyes in shock, staring after him. He had no idea Bukola harboured such thoughts about him. No-one else suspected him of anything shady, as far as he knew. Was he being a naive idiot, and everyone around him was still watching him, or was it just Bukola’s natural paranoia coming through?
A hand patted his shoulder, and he turned to see Kyra, looking at him with sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, “you don’t deserve that. Like we said yesterday, Bukola, he’s just… he doesn’t trust easily. But Fyodor and I know you’re just trying to adjust and get along.” She smiled sweetly at him.
A pang of guilt shot through Grant. Sure, the secrets he was keeping about Ki weren’t harmful or anything, but he was still more than she thought he was, and the fact she was willing to back him against someone like Bukola made his insides squirm slightly. He smiled weakly at her. “Thanks,” he said, trying to sound appreciative. “But honestly, I’m glad he’s going. I am genuinely curious what the fuck was up with those gryphons. Thanks again, for being a badass bodyguard, by the way.”
She laughed. “No problem,” she said, before shoving him slightly towards one of the tables. “Now, eat up. You’re going to need your strength today.” She smirked.
Grant grunted as his naked back slammed into the rock cavern wall, sharp shards digging into his back but failing to pierce his imbued protections. He looked up to see Kyra leaping through the air towards him, training sword slicing down at a steep angle aimed at his neck. He got a foot up on the wall behind him, tensed, and pushed off as hard as he could towards her. She tried to bring her sword around to meet his charge, but he met her blade with his own. They collided bodily in mid-air, the air rushing out of his lungs as they fell to the ground and rolled away from each other. Grant came to his feet, panting heavily, sweat dripping down forehead and stinging his eyes.
“That’s enough for now,” Fyodor called from his seat.
Kyra got to her feet and grinned at him. “That was excellent,” she proclaimed, flicking her wrist and sending her training sword tumbling towards a wooden post off to the side, the blade penetrating all the way through the beam with the force of the throw, despite the dull tip and edges. “Keep this up and Bukola will want you out on missions so quickly he’ll forget all about you.”
“You are talented,” Fyodor agreed, coming to his feet and eyeing Grant. “Surprising, given that swords are hardly a common instrument in the twentieth century, from what I hear. Have you ever fought before?”
Grant shrugged, walking over top the table and setting his sword on top of it before grabbing the nearby water jug and gulping some down . “Not really,” he gasped, before taking another drink. “I mean, little play fights as a kid with lightsabers, stuff like that. But never an actual sword. Besides,” he added, glancing at Kyra, “I’m not sure any fighting technique back home covers what to do when someone throws you a dozen metres into a cliff then jumps that distance and tries to hit you.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Fyodor let out his hearty laugh, and Kyra chuckled slightly as she took the water from him.
“Probably not,” Fyodor admitted. “But still, you have good instincts, and good reactions. Your instinct at the end, to meet her charge instead of letting her come to you - very good. Getting inside your opponents guard, and setting the fight to your terms, both excellent tactics. The more animalistic monstrosities you will face through the doors will be surprised by you taking them head-on, as they are used to their prey turning tail and running. However, fighting against Kyra or myself is one thing. It is another thing entirely to face something like this.” He pointed at something behind Grant.
Grant froze, imbued instincts screaming a warning at him, as he felt a heavy footfall behind him. He dived to his right just in time to avoid the impact of a colossal, swollen beast. Spinning in midair, time seemed to slow as the adrenaline flooded his system and he got his first look at his new foe. Short, stubby legs tipped with foot-long claws supported a body bigger than most houses, a gluttonous, hairy mass of blubber that rippled with the force of the beast’s charge. The body led seamlessly to the monster’s face, two beady, black eyes set above a gaping, featureless maw. As Grant stared, the being turned to face him, eyes blazing with hunger and rage, and the jaws began to open, stretching wider and wider until they were somehow larger than the creature itself. The creature’s foot pawed the ground once, before darting forward with speed that defied the mass of that disgusting body, until the black hole of its gullet filled Grant’s vision, and he saw half a dozen thick, spear-like tongues begin to jab towards him. Still stuck in mid-jump, Grant couldn’t move to avoid the monster’s charge, and instead closed his eyes and began to scream in terror.
Grant fell to the ground, arms covering his head, still yelling mindlessly for a few seconds, before it dawned on him that he hadn’t been eaten. Hesitantly, he raised his head. The monster hung in the air, frozen in mid-leap, shimmering slightly. Fyodor emerged from the beast’s shadow, hands clasped behind his back, a serious expression on his face as he regarded Grant.
“This,” he said gravely, “is the Kammapa. It lies behind door 3-17-2-4, and has prevented any further exploration into that world. Bukola and Ed led a team of five others to try and kill it over 120 years ago. Two of them died. And since then, the beast will only have grown stronger.” He gave Grant a significant look. “And this is not the most powerful creature we have encountered. Against a creature like this, your first instinct was correct. Run. Run back home, and live to fight another day.”
Grant got to his feet slowly. He approached the monster, moving slowly, glancing at Fyodor for reassurance, before reaching out a hand to touch it. His hand passed right through the image, a faint outline of his hand visible through the illusion of skin.
“That is…” Grant let out a deep sigh. “That is very, very cool, and utterly terrifying. Did you really need to scare me like that?”
Fyodor and Kyra both nodded, no trace of amusement on either of their faces.
“It’s really important, Grant,” Kyra said earnestly. “The feeling you get when something this powerful is around, how all your instincts scream at you? You need to know what to do when you feel that way, out in the wilds, and fear is a good teacher. But you were never actually in danger.”
Grant nodded slowly, adrenalin beginning to fade slightly. “I get what you’re saying, really - but fucking hell, I thought I was going to die for a second there!”
“Good,” Fyodor said simply. “That means the lesson has been taken to heart. Do not forget it.”
The rest of the day passed normally. Once Fyodor had dismissed the illusion of the Kammapa - although Grant questioned him on why he had felt danger if it was just an illusion, Fyodor had merely given him a sly wink - they continued with their weapon practice. For now, Fyodor had explained, they would familiarise him with a variety of weapons before Grant selected one style that he preferred. Tomorrow, they would move on to some of the more common (and dangerous) monsters that he would encounter, and how to defeat them. The next two days he would be handed over to Suriya, who would teach him about the doors, the aspect of this world he was by far the most curious about.
Fyodor had spoken earlier of some kind of code, a numbering system by which they labelled the door. Even though Sanctuary lay three doors away from where Grant had arrived in this world, he hadn’t appreciated until now that the Forsaken must have done a lot of exploration through the doors. Obvious in hindsight, but between all the other mind-blowing revelations, he hadn’t considered it. Now, he was tingling in anticipation of the secrets that Suriya would reveal to him. He was excited to an extent that actually surprised him.
That is due to your hidden memories, Ki said to him during a break, while Kyra and Fyodor were off arranging the next lesson. We have spoken of the eventual need to go exploring through the doors in search of our goal, and despite those memories being hidden, that knowledge is seeping through slightly.
Like how I still trusted you, despite not knowing who you were? Grant asked.
Precisely.
Grant nodded thoughtfully, before he was reminded of something he’d wanted to ask earlier. By the way, he said, is there a reason that that… Kammapa, or whatever, made me feel so scared? I mean, I didn’t get any feeling like that from the gryphons. I assume your kind made that thing, right? Like the gryphons? Surely it can’t be that powerful?
A deep sense of unease floated up from his mind. That… is mostly true, Ki said slowly. Yes, we did create the Kammapa. However, the idea that because we created it, that it is inferior to us, is a flawed assumption. After all, any creature may give birth to a child that at first is weak, and lesser. But, given enough time, the right treatment… children can grow up to be far, far stronger than their parents. The Kammapa is one of several experiments that grew beyond its creators' control. Most similar experiments were created in our relatively early years, where we had neither the foresight nor inclination to create races that may thrive on their own, but instead were merely discovering the limits of our power. In the case of the Kammapa, it was an experiment in folding space. The beast has no digestive system as you would understand it - instead, all it consumes is compressed into a pocket dimension containing a miniature star that provides its energy back to the Kammapa. Unfortunately, its creator, going then by the name Ralabepa, failed to account for how the creature’s sense of hunger would interact with such a power source. The Kammapa is endlessly hungry, and can eat almost anything in its path. It ravaged the continent of Africa for several decades before a group of us managed to bring it under control and lock it away.
Under control? Grant asked incredulously. You didn’t kill it?
Ralabepa forbade it. It was still worthy of study, he argued, and would be a cautionary tale against other experiments. Besides, Ki sighed regretfully, it had only hurt humans and other animals. And none of us cared about that, back then.
Grant shook his head in disgust.
I know, Ki whispered mournfully. I’m sorry.
Whatever. So the bottom line is, there are things behind these doors that are scarier and more powerful than any of the Forsaken - even me.
Unfortunately so, Ki replied.
Grant sighed. The comfort he had received from being special and having access to his abnormal power faded somewhat in the face of this discovery, though he supposed he was still far better off than all the other new arrivals.
The day was over, and the sun was beginning its descent as Grant packed away the last of the weapons under Kyra’s supervision. Kyra had encouraged Grant to practise his powers as much as possible by moving the weapons with only his mind, though Grant privately suspected she was just fobbing the job off on him. He had just put the last of them away when Fyodor and Kyra simultaneously perked up, looking up into the sky in the direction of Sanctuary. Shading his eyes slightly, Grant followed their gaze.
There was a speck in the sky, moving quickly in their direction. Grant squinted, trying to make out what it was. It looked like a bird of some kind - he would have suspected it was a plane, if he was back on Earth. Grant suddenly realised what he was seeing, and snorted slightly at his thoughts. “It’s a bird, it’s a plane…” he muttered to himself.
A woman was flying towards them, arms spread to the sides, loose clothing fluttering rapidly in the air as she flew. Grant guessed she was moving at supersonic speeds, at the rate she was drawing nearer, and within seconds she had slammed into the ground in front of them, walking towards the three of them without breaking stride.
“Wanda,” Fyodor said, raising an eyebrow. “This is a surprise. What exactl-”
He cut off as Wanda stepped up to Grant, glaring at him with barely suppressed rage. Wind began swirling around the pair of them, picking up dirt and dust and causing Grant to flinch slightly as bits of grit began to hit his face.
“Has he been with you all day?” she asked furiously.
Fyodor and Kyra blinked at each other, confused.
“Yeah, I-” Grant began.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” she snapped. “Fyodor. Kyra. Has he been with you all day?”
Fyodor glanced at Kyra. “Yes, he has,” he replied. “Kyra and he arrived here in the morning. He has not been out of my sight once.”
“We met this morning, at Maya’s, and walked straight here,” Kyra confirmed, looking worriedly at Grant.
The woman, Wanda, was silent for a moment, jaw clenched as she stared at Grant. Silence reigned for a moment. Then, as though a plug had been pulled, the tension drained out of her, the wind died down, and she closed her eyes, drawing a deep, shaky breath. “Damn it…” she whispered softly. A tear began to grow in the corner of her eye.
Fyodor stepped forward, concern on his face, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “What is it, Wanda?” he asked gently. “What has happened?”
Wanda reached up, clasping his hand and taking another breath before responding. “Bukola never returned from his mission,” she said, tears beginning to fall freely. “A search party was dispatched an hour ago. We found his body, just a hundred metres from the door, near the blue house. He’s dead.”