Consciousness returned. Erratic gasping breaths pulled the young man from his short trip to oblivion of sleep. A cold flood spread from Ari’s chest out to his extremities, a tingling sensation left in his fingers and toes. A pressure welled up in Ari’s chest, he couldn’t breathe yet was able to all the same. He was dying. He was shaking, doom approached from some vague location within his body as each heartbeat felt like it was travelling throughout his nerves with the force of an erupting volcano. Little artifacts in Ari’s vision pulsed in time with his heartbeat, as sweat accumulated on his palms and his throat got ever more dry. Ari couldn’t tell what was going on, but a spike of something traveled up his spine resting right below the base of his skull. Ari knew he was dying, something about what happened was killing him.

The shivering got worse, and Ari curled up on his side for a while just trying to remember how to breathe. Slowly, he began to come down from the experience, a torrent of fatigue replacing the adrenaline that was just surging through him. ‘This is a panic attack’ Ari realized. Or at least, something similar. Based on descriptions I remember hearing from Colette about what she went through after the deaths.’ Ari forced himself upright and into a sitting position, for a moment the world spun and his heartbeat started to increase in tempo once more. For just a moment, he was afraid that it was going to happen all over again, but then he started to return to normalcy. He let out a shaking long breath, and started to breath in the meditative way he was taught. Trying his best, but failing, Ari shook his head and pushed himself to his unsteady feet.

“Is anyone nearby?”

He tried to recall the names of the people he had just helped save from the bandits, the bandits that were encased by the earth in a faux-mountain behind him. For a moment, Ari considered turning around. Something in his mind forced his vision away- away from the strange pulsing object that forced him asleep. He knew that he should look back to it, to try and see if anything significant about it or him had changed. But Ari knew he wouldn’t be able to get the little spark of fear under control, not unless he ignored whatever lay behind him.

“Once more, Marie-Claire, Robert, Cyril are either of you nearby?”

The silence was briefly interrupted by a howling wind that blew through the clearing, but other than the inauspicious breeze there was no response. Ari remained on his unsteady feet, and slowly tried to understand the surroundings. The very Earth and everything that rested upon it was pulled from yards away and formed the mountainous coffin behind him. He couldn’t make sense of the direction he sent the others fleeing, there weren’t enough landmarks or indicators left pointing him towards the signs of their direction.

“Over here!”

Ari turned his head towards the sound, which inevitably took him to where the strange object once lay, in its place was a small crater with steam emanating from within it. Focusing back on the sound, Ari could see the form of Marie-Claire in the darkness. He made to take a step forward, but the young man’s equilibrium was completely thrown out of order from his strange dance with near-death. A shiver raced once again across his spine. He sucked in a breath slowly from his nose, and then deeply and slowly exhaled from his mouth. Making short, struggling steps, the young man slowly walked past the remnants of the ecological and arcane phenomenon and to the woman.

When he reached her she was looking at him with a frown, she seemed much taller than him for some reason. She seemed to stand over him like the very trees that stood in the forest, unshakeable and old. He knew she was only slightly taller than him, but Ari felt small and vulnerable for some reason.

As Ari reached her position she spoke abruptly but much softer than when she had called to him earlier. Ari noticed she had a long dagger pointed towards him, and was keeping him at a remove. She seemed closed off, more so than when he was helping them free from the cages. He furrowed his brow, but he was too tired and drained to make the obvious connections.

“What did you do? How? What was that humming sound and the massive flash of light?”

“I’m sorry I don’t know what it was.”

Ari lied to the best of his abilities, even though he would normally recognize that she had seen too much for it to work. At least he believed he was being partially honest, if only answering the question about the humming sound and light. Ari didn’t even notice that was occurring, and in his current addled state he couldn’t remember much about what happened at all. He felt the urge to use his magic, and then was drawn to the sphere like moths to flame. ‘There was something at work here beyond just me acting out of desperation and a desire to use my powers,’ Ari reckoned hazily.

“Listen to me boy, I will not allow you to approach the rest of us until you are honest and I can tell something took it out of you so don’t lie to me. I will stick you if it means making sure we are safe!”

Ari nodded and tried to look into the woman's eyes but they were too far away for him to focus on.

“That’s fine I’ll go the other way.”

Ari made to turn around, but she grabbed him and forced him to the ground. She straddled him with his arms pinned to his side, the dagger pressed to his neck.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Don’t make me hurt you just explain what that was and you can go.”

“Druidic magic. I’m a druid, it's like a wizard but-”

“I know the cursed magic that the desert tribes used.”

“Ah.”

‘Well I am probably dead, she must have reasoned out what happened and decided I was dangerous and might hurt them simply because of my heritage and practice of the old arts. What a shitty death, Colette will be furious if she learns.’

Ari felt the tears land on his face, and tried to focus back on the woman’s eyes when she whispered. Ari didn’t know if the words were for him, or someone else. The dagger was plunged into his neck, and hot blood sprayed across her arms as the oblivion came once more. The pain was muted, like it wasn’t actually happening to him but was just a memory.

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m sorry.”

—

Ruenr was charging through the Southern wilds when he suddenly jerked to an abrupt stop; sliding through the shrubbery and forest floor as his speed kept him moving forward even after his legs were stationary. He was several yards from where he noticed the feeling and was searching through his karmic connections to find one severed. Ruenr turned his head regarded the distance where he left behind the tiny-would-be calamity. Shaking his head, he focused on the mandate of his god before making his next move.

—

Colette and Cyrus were traveling to one of the many homes of her widowed husband's family to search for clues, when Cyrus suddenly felt a tug pulling him south. He leaped out of the carriage abruptly, startling Colette something fierce, and began to stare off into the distance. Cyrus hadn’t informed the young man, nor Colette, but he left a charm within the young man that would alert him if his heart ever ceased beating. That tingle had begun, then faded abruptly; which to Cyrus could only mean that Ari had suddenly died. If he was slowly dying, then the older Krazhnori would have felt a slow building tingle. The abruptness of the feeling that then faded so quickly indicated that at least the boy didn’t suffer much. Colette caught up to him, and began asking questions that he couldn’t make out. Cyrus needed to get to the boy's body and retrieve the scroll, but he and Colette both were on urgent business.

The man wrestled with himself before turning to Colette and addressing her.

“Sorry, I just got a weird feeling. Umm. It was magical in nature so you wouldn’t have noticed it.”

“You made me worried. Let’s get back on the road, we might find what we are looking for in his uncle’s house!”

—

Colette looked at Cyrus suspiciously as he slowly made his way back to the carriage, her only slightly behind the man. She knew something was wrong, something serious was amiss and for some reason Cyrus didn’t want to talk about it. ‘That’s okay’ she thought. He had complained often about the dangers of his path as a witchblade, or druidic knight, so she recognized that there were often things she wouldn’t be able to help with. But, something about right now was making her feel wrong. She would wait until after this search, then she would demand answers.

—

Deep in the mire of the wildlands, where even the winter is driven away by the hot springs that form the endless swamps and marshlands, a creature feels the pull of strong and ancient magics. Something from that time was just activated. If the skull wasn’t already permanently set in its eternal grin, then it would be now. The Master of Decay had found something interesting. It activated the spores in each of its corrupted minions and sent them searching, looking for what it was that brushed up against its senses, to bring home to its new master.

—

Ari couldn’t breathe. He was somewhere dark again, somewhere deep and cold. He coughed and sputtered as he attempted to catch his breath, but when he inhaled he smelled smoke and choked on ashes. He attempted to whip the soot from around his eyes, but there was something sticky and wet there, making it hard for them to open or to move away the grime. His skin felt wet and raw. He could feel the painful itch of it on his skin. Something deep within him burned and itched as well. What it was, Ari wasn’t sure, but he somehow knew it had always been there and he couldn’t notice it until now. He still struggled to breathe. Barely able to inhale anything other than smoke and ashes, but he could feel rushing water nearby. Not hear or see it, but he knew it was there. Dragging, fingers through mud and against small rocks in the rough landscape, he crawled, dragging himself across the cold earth.

By the time Ari reached the stream, he was positive his nails were bleeding and his body was covered in scrapes and bruises. Throwing himself into the water, he allowed the icy flow to shock him- believing it will help him remain conscious. The young man was unable to hold his breath for long, as he had still not managed to clear enough of the gunk away from his nose or mouth, so his head emerged soon. Aru scrubbed and scrubbed, he attempted to access the runescript tattoos but the connection was distant. It was like he could feel it, but the anchor wasn’t on him anymore: it was back where he crawled from. He continued to scrub himself, and stayed in the freezing water until he could make out his flesh underneath the gray ash and red filth that covered his skin.

Anticipating pink skin raw from either burns or abrasions, Ari was startled when he found his skin underneath wasn’t raw or the caramel he was used to: but nearly obsidian. It was darker than anyone he remembered, save for a few of his people that he could just vaguely recall, and in the place of the usual runescript tattoos he was able to make out the strange flowing script of the old elven language. It was duller than how the script appeared on the device.

‘The device. I was killed? What happened?’ As Ari recalled what he could of the events that brought him here, he could feel the panic start to build again. Start, then immediately be squashed as the thing he could sense within himself started to emit a warm and comfortable feeling. Ari was pulled out of the anxiety and fear, and was able to command his emotions like usual. After ensuring he was clean enough, Ari tried to make out his reflection in the moonlight of the stream but even with his enhanced vision the reflection wasn’t visible enough. He could tell his skin was darker, like the night sky, but not much else. He made his way over to the pile of ashes and used a stick to fig through it, when he found it.

Bones, human ones. He could feel a connection to them, something he lost but was still bound right here. Originally, he believed it was the runescript tattoos and the spatial storage he commanded, but now that he was back it was clearly different. Ignoring the ramifications and meanings of this discovery, and of the charred bones, he grasped the feeling and pulled on it. After doing so there was a loud pop, and the scroll he recalled fell to the ground in front of him: right on to the ashes and burned bones. Bones that were possibly his own. Ari struggled to keep the calm that the warm feeling was granting him, and his peace and logic was breaking down as he grasped the shards of his current reality.