“Oomph.” The breath was knocked out of Erin’s lungs as he was sent sprawling. A staff arced on a collision path straight toward his head. He rolled over and the staff’s butt smashed into the ground, sending up a plume of dust. Getting to his knees, he tried to get out of the range, but his opponent was faster. Like a shot, the staff rose from the ground and caught him square in the ribs. He was flipped over by the force and landed on his back again. Erin’s lungs screamed for air that just wouldn’t come as his opponent lashed out at his head. This time his body refused to obey his commands and he closed his eyes. He felt the ripple of air as the staff passed above his brow.

“Dead,” a dispassionate voice proclaimed.

Erin ignored it, focusing on taking short, shallow breaths in a vain attempt to stop the aching pain in his ribs.

“Heal him,” the voice commanded and a light pressed on his shoulder. The pain in his ribs receded, replaced by a warm, tingling feeling that was not nearly as pleasant as it sounded. If anything, the sensation reminded Erin of the time he’d discovered he was allergic to shellfish; unfortunately, that had happened at a friend’s birthday party when he was 12. Erin’s mother hadn’t exactly had the money to splurge on things like lobster, so when his friend’s dad ordered for the whole table, Erin hadn’t know any better. One lobster later, his throat and lips swelled up to twice their usual size. Instead of a goody bag, he’d gotten a hospital visit and one less friend. Fortunately, the unpleasant sensation soon receded and, with it, the breath rushed back in his lungs.

Erin sat up and, accepting the hand offered to him, rose to his feet. “Did I do any better?” He asked the guard who had just thrashed him.

“Eh,” The man shrugged, “Perhaps a little. You lasted a few seconds longer than the last.”

Erin sighed. “I don’t know why I keep trying. Without skills…”

The trainer cut him off. “Skills aren’t the problem here, scout. I used no skills myself.”

“Then what is?” He asked unhappily.

“You just don’t have that fire. Your stats are okay, you know your forms reasonably well, and your reflexes are actually quite good, but you fight like you’re scared of hurting me. Which is absurd,” the man added flatly. “At least you’re in the scouts. If you find yourself in a lot of fights, you're doing something wrong.”

Erin hung his head. He knew the guard's criticism were fair. Truth was, all he really wanted to do was go back home but, if he was going to be stuck here, he needed to get better. “Same time tomorrow?” he asked.

“No,” the guard replied. “Haven’t you heard? You’re heading out in two days.”

“What?” Erin whipped his head up. “Headed out to where?”

The trainer cocked an eyebrow. “You really haven’t been paying attention? The King’s sending a bunch of troops to help out the Empire.”

“Yeah, I’d heard that,” he admitted, “but I didn’t realize it was happening so soon. Didn’t realize we were being sent either,” he added after a moment’s pause.

“Guess you’re lucky,” the guard grinned, but then his smile slipped. “Or perhaps unlucky. From what I've heard, those stoneflesh are a pretty tough fight. Hope you can do it, kid.”

“Me too,” Erin agreed dully. Gathering his stuff up, he started to head back to the barracks but was intercepted at the gate by a willowy woman wearing the yellow sash of the messengers.

“Lord S̆arrābī sent for you. You’re to meet him at his manor.”

“Uh, was it urgent?” Erin asked, swiping with his sleeve at the sweat still dripping down his brow.

The slight breeze blowing off the lake shifted, and the woman’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “I imagine Lord S̆arrābī would not mind if you took a few moments to cleanse yourself.”

“Alright, tell him I’ll be right there, then.”

The woman nodded and disappeared back into the trees, leaving Erin to trudge back to the barracks. His mind wandered as he scrubbed off the worst of the sweat and slipped into a clean tunic. I wonder what S̆arrābī wants this time.

Truthfully, Erin had a pretty good idea. While he was still not sure how exactly he felt about the mysterious noble-slash-fellow citizen of Earth who had rescued him, Jasper had lived up to his promise to ask his uncle to help Erin unlock a class. Jasper himself seemed to have disappeared shortly after arriving back at S̆addānu, but the man’s uncle had met with Erin a half-dozen times. Each time he’d had priests, mages, or other supposed experts gathered to look over him, and each time had been a failure.

Frankly, Erin had come to dread these occasions. Not only was S̆arrābī an intimidating man, who looked like the devil sprung to life, but the meetings themselves were long and hard. He tried not to get his hopes, but even faint hopes can still be dashed.

But there was no point in tarrying. Fastening his short sword to his belt, Erin slid on a pair of sandals and headed out of the barracks. The messenger had waited outside for him, lying beneath a great, sprawling tree whose fulsome branches offered a welcome relief from the heat of the midday sun. She rose with a groan, and he followed after her. The messenger led him to the gates of S̆arrābī’s manor where, after she showed them the message, the guards let him in.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Cool air washed over him as he stepped inside. It was no trick of air-conditioning, though, but simply a feat of architecture, with the thick stone walls acting as a very effective insulator. A servant led him upstairs to S̆arrābī’s study and rapped on the door.

“Come in,” a deep voice rumbled.

Choking down his anxiety, Erin stepped through the door and bowed his head politely. “My lord.”

“Ah, took you long enough.” Lord S̆arrābī sat in his usual plush leather chair. His desk was besieged by stacks of paperwork tall enough to be siege towers and a small bevy of aides sat in a semi-circle around him, working through the stacks with a nearly feverish energy.

The stilted language the Djinn preferred always felt awkward on Erin’s lips, but he gave it his best shot. “I had just finished training, my lord. Given my state, I thought it best to clean up first.”

“I’m sure my nose thanks you,” the man replied wryly. With a groan, he stood up from the chair and stretched his arms. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the army leaving by now?”

“Just today,” Erin agreed.

“Well, you’ll be going with them, so this will have to be our last meeting for the time being. But you’ll be placed under my nephew’s command, so who knows? Perhaps he’ll have better insight into your troubles than I. He is from your world, after all.” S̆arrābī circled around the desk, weaving his way through his aides, and waved Erin toward the left side of the room.

A small door Erin hadn’t noticed before sat inside the wall, hidden in the shadow of two ebony bookcases, and the man swung it open. “Come on.”

Following the Djinn inside, Erin found himself in a second, smaller study. Unlike S̆arrābī’s room, whose walls were dominated by thick, black-lacquered shelves and large, ostentatious furniture, this room was light and cheery. The side facing the lake lay almost open to the elements, with passage only barred by sheer curtains that were thin enough to let the cool breezes flow through. A row of plants sat in front of it, their green leaves burnished by bright orange and white flowers that reminded Erin a bit of lilies.

The walls were lined with a cream-colored stone punctuated by a thin strip of green, and a long white table sat in the middle of the room, already occupied by three guests. Two of them Erin recognized immediately.

One was a local priest from S̆ams̆a’s temple, who had met faithfully with Erin nearly every week in a futile attempt to help him access his essence. Despite his occasional attempts to enlighten Erin about S̆ams̆a’s wonderful radiance, he rather liked the old man; he was kind and patient to a fault.

The other was less of a favorite. Though one of the most skilled mages in the king’s court, Erin always felt uncomfortable around the man. It wasn’t that he wasn’t eager to help - if anything, he was a bit too eager - but Erin couldn’t escape the feeling that the Djinn saw him more as a particularly interesting test subject than as a person he was trying to help. If S̆arrābī wasn’t there for protection, he wasn’t entirely confident the mage wouldn’t bundle him up into some hidden laboratory for endless cruel expects. Okay, maybe I’m letting my imagination run wild, but there’s definitely something off about him.

But Erin’s eyes paused as he came to the third man. This one was new and, much to his surprise, not a Djinn. The new addition looked almost human, if not for a few small discrepancies. His eyes were a deep emerald green, a shade too vibrant to be natural. His ears were a touch too long, not quite pointed, but not rounded as they usually were. And his teeth - well, when the man smiled, Erin had to force himself not to take a step back as a row of unnaturally long and sharp teeth gleamed in the light.

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, Erin, we have a new guest today. Allow me to introduce Lord Vāyîltī, one of the emissaries from the Empire and, as it happens, a highly skilled mage.”

Erin bowed his head stiffly. “A pleasure, my lord.”

“Alright then,” S̆arrābī continued. “I really can’t stay today; there’s simply too many things to do before the army leaves, so I’ll leave you to him. Before you leave today, be sure to check in, Erin. There are a few things concerning my nephew I want to go over while we still have the chance.”

With that, he took his departure. Erin sat down at the table and tried not to squirm Lord Vāyîltī flashed his unsettling grin again. It’s like staring down a shark. “So, I hear you’ve been unable to unlock a class?” He asked abruptly.

He nodded. “Yeah, it won’t let me unlock a warrior class because I have essence, but because I can’t actually use my essence, it won’t give me a mage class, so I'm stuck.”

“An interesting conundrum.” The man drummed his fingers against the table. “And there’s nothing else unusual about you. No childhood injuries, unusual heritages, bloodline curses, anything that would explain it?”

Bloodline curses? “Uh, not that I know of.”

“We’ve ruled out those possibilities as best as we can,” the priest added. “Of course, with him not being from this world, it’s hard to say for certain what secrets might lie in his past.”

“Not of this world…S̆arrābī did mention he was summoned.” His gaze turned back to Erin. “Tell me, what world do you come from?”

“Earth.”

“Earth,” the man repeated. He stood up and began to pace back and forth across the room, his arms crossed behind his back. “You know, many years ago, before the capital fell, I remember reading a book about summons from Earth. What was it?” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe Apkallu’s Encyclopedia of Intelligent Beings?…no,” he decided with a shake of his head. “That’s not it - ah! I remember. It was Araddūr’s memoirs.”

He turned to the court mage. “I don’t suppose you have a copy in your library?”

The Djinn could only shake his head. “Araddūr is not a name that will win you many favors around here. He was a bit of a heretic, after all.”

“I’d forgotten how sensitive you Djinn could be about the whole Nūr and S̆ams̆a debate,” he replied wryly. “The man was a brilliant scholar whose work deserves to be remembered.”

“And what relevance do his memoirs have,” the mage replied testily.

“As I recall, a number of the summons from Earth experienced the same issue as our young friend here.”

Erin flinched as a heavy hand descended on his shoulder.

“Unless I miss my guess, the ‘essence’ you and the system are sensing isn’t essence at all. It’s, uh,” he furrowed his brow. “Unfortunately, it’s been a very long time since I last read Araddūr’s work. It seems I can’t remember what he called it. But it’s a magical resource quite similar to essence but nonetheless distinct.”

“So what does that mean for me,” Erin asked. “Am I unable to get a class?”

The imperial mage shook his head. “On the contrary. We’ll likely need to wait until we’re back in the empire and I can consult Arradūr’s memoirs, but he found a way to help them. We’ll just have to trick the system to do it.”