Grant bent over, hands on his knees, adrenaline coursing through his body as he took deep, rasping breaths.

He’d lived a fairly quiet, average life before today. Yes, there had been some tragedy, some missteps, some mistakes, but never before had he genuinely feared for his life. He quickly decided it was a rather harrowing experience that was best avoided from now on.

His breathing had just begun to settle when he finally looked up at Kyra, and shock flooded him again as he saw the large, jagged gash that ran the length of her upper left arm. One of the ribbons from her hair was slowly wrapping itself around it, pulling the wound tight as she winced in pain, blood flowing steadily down her arm.

“Oh... wow,” Grant said, wincing in sympathy as he watched the makeshift bandage finish its job, “I’m sorry, if I had just been faster…”

Kyra shook her head. “Not your fault,” she said, snapping her fingers and causing the ribbon around her arm to sever itself from the rest, the end tucking itself away and completing the bandaging. “You’re brand new, and I can hardly blame you for being stunned. I remember disobeying people more than once to sneak away and watch their displays of power or to see the centaurs run wild.”

She stretched her arm in a circle, testing the wrapping. Satisfied, she unslung her pack and withdrew a bottle of water, pouring it over the wound and washing away the remaining blood. “That said, I have no idea why they attacked us, and I definitely don’t know why they went after you when I was clearly the bigger threat.” She raised her eyebrows and looked at him expectantly.

“What, you think I know why?” he asked indignantly, “Yesterday I was camping in the outback with friends, and now gryphons are falling from the sky trying to slice me open, and you think I have the slightest idea why? I still don’t even know where we are, or why there are fucking teleporting door portals everywhere, or how you could do all that crazy stuff with your ribbons, not to mention the fact you apparently have Superman-style strength with the way you were punching heads off and flying all over the place, and did you just say something about centaurs being real? I… I can’t even…” By the time he finished he was well aware he was ranting, red-faced and puffing heavily, arms and legs beginning to tremble as the events of the day threatened to overwhelm him once more.

Kyra frowned at him, crossing her arms and idly tapping her foot in thought as she studied him. “I’m sorry Grant, I know you’re scared and confused, but there’s something off about this. It was weird enough that you had arrived so much earlier than we expected, but apparently your powers haven’t even begun to assert themselves, and you already seem to be a magnet for trouble. Gryphons haven’t attacked anyone in that land for decades, ever since we learned to avoid their territories. This path has always been safe, but they were apparently disturbed just by you being in the vicinity.”

“Well I’m so fucking sorry that being ripped out of my life and plopped in fucking Narnia has disturbed things so much,” he said sarcastically, scowling at her, “But I’ll remind you once more that I have no idea what on Earth has happened to me and I would be just as happy as you had I never arrived here.”

Her face softened, arms falling by her sides. “I know. Believe me, I know. But you’re here, and for your sake as well as mine, we need to figure out why you’re different before we continue moving.”

Grant closed his eyes, trying to calm his mind and settle his nerves against the onslaught of weirdness that he had been caught up in. Opening them, he looked at Kyra and shrugged. “Whatever you say I guess. I’m not really in a position to give any advice, am I? What did you have in mind?”

She smiled at him. “Good. Well, first thing first, I need to check that you have a source.” She made a peculiar gesture with one hand

“What’s a -” Grant started, before suddenly being cut off by a ribbon shooting forward and burying itself in the middle of his forehead.

“-source?” he finished.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The rest of his body caught up with his eyes and he flinched back at the image of the ribbon darting towards him, before realising that he was no longer with Kyra.

The suburban environment had vanished, replaced by a pitch-black, endless void. Looking down, the void seemed to extend below him despite feeling like he was standing on solid ground, giving him vertigo as he gazed into its infinite depths. Looking back up and spinning around, he saw a few metres in front of him a tent, similar - no, identical to the one he had occupied last night. Behind the tent was the beginnings of a room under construction, three of its walls mere wooden frames. The closest wall, however, was almost complete, and with a start, Grant recognised it as the entrance to his childhood bedroom. The door had his name spelled out across the centre in wooden block letters, each a different colour. Stickers of the various TV shows and movies he had loved as a child were scattered haphazardly across the surface, the white Power Ranger and Spider-Man taking the place of honour just below his name.

The tent unzipped, and a man stepped out. He was tall, shaved bald with dark skin and a spattering of bright red marks, like freckles, across his face. Each spot glowed and pulsed rhythmically with an eerie light, giving him an ominous look. He was dressed in Grant’s exact outfit, his favourite dark jeans and his favourite AC-DC t-shirt. He smiled upon seeing Grant.

“That was quick! I thought I’d have more time to settle in before…” the man greeted him before trailing off, peering closely at Grant’s forehead, “Oh. Never mind, I see that someone has forced this meeting upon you. Is there a problem?”

Grant stared at the man, speechless.

The man stared back for a second before slapping himself in the forehead. “Oh, silly me. I do apologise most profusely. I quite forgot that you are unaware of my presence.” He straightened his spine, brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt and clasped his hands in front of him. “Grant Summers,” he intoned dramatically, “I am your…” The man paused, tilting his head as if trying to remember something. “Your… source! I am your source. I will be your wellspring, your friend, your servant. I am yours to call upon. May we live our lives in peace and harmony.” He bowed deeply.

Grant continued to stare at him, completely befuddled.

The man straightened, clapping his hands. “Right. I hope that was satisfactory, it’s been a long time since I last did this, I hope I got the words close enough. Now, what can I help with? Why is someone trying to contact me?”

Grant finally found his voice. “What… who are you? What are you? Where are we?”

The man smiled. “Yes, I’m sure you’re quite puzzled. Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to speak tonight. In the meantime…” He cocked his head again, eyes gazing into the distance. “Oh! Yes, I see. I apologise, I seem to have miscalculated how much access you would have so early. I’ll fix that now.” He raised his right hand, and Grant noticed for the first time that the nails on that hand weren’t nails, but were actually black, curved, metallic claws.

“Oh, and don’t worry, you won’t remember this until tonight. Can’t have you blabbing to the wrong person. But I promise you, you and I are going to do great things.” He smiled and brought his arm slashing down, claws slicing a small cut across his other wrist and causing black blood to drip down, down into the void, ignoring whatever surface the two of them seemed to stand on.

“Okay, what the actual fu-” Grant started.

“-ck is happening?”

Grant blinked, looking around in surprise. He was still standing in the middle of the street, Kyra looking at him in concern as a ribbon floated next to his face.

“Grant? Are you okay? That took longer than I thought it would.”

Grant looked at her, disoriented for a second before his mind caught up with the last thing he remembered. “Hey! Did you just fucking stab me in the face?”

Kyra shrugged, still looking concerned. “Technically no, I just pierced your spirit to see if you had a Source. It didn’t hurt you, don’t worry.”

Grant slapped away the ribbon that still floated near him and scowled at her. “Well whatever it was, it was freaky and scary! Not a great way to build trust.”

“But did it work? Do you feel any different?” she asked.

“I don’t know what you…” Grant trailed off slowly, a frown spreading across his face as he studied himself. “I… I actually do. I feel… warm. And… better… stronger…”

Kyra grinned, relief pouring from her. “Thank god! I was worried there. I was just checking if you had a Source, I have no idea why you were under for like a minute. Usually, it’s instant - but I guess you’re just a special little butterfly.”

Grant looked at her, puzzled. “You said that just before you stabbed me, didn’t you? What exactly is a Source?”

“It’s hard to explain,” she said hesitantly, “Normally it’s something that’s covered once we’re back home. For now, all you need to know is that you have one, it’s flowing now, and I don’t need to kill you for being an impostor.” She smiled brightly at him.

“Well…” He stared at her, not sure if she was joking “…that’s a relief.”