“Hello?”

A light voice disturbed the still air, probing for something.

“You idiot. Prepare for a confrontation. And contamination.

The scratchy reply sobered him. He took slow, ginger steps towards the beautiful facade of the ruined house. A hither-to-unknown house, in fact, that had attracted some unwanted attention.

“Warmth. Do you feel that, Cleabex? How magnificent.”

Cleabex did manage a smile, even amidst the upheaval they’d faced in the past… amount of time since the Six had begun their great offensive. It was a smile well earned.

“I feel it, Jerom. Wait. There was movement recently. Not of our foe.”

Jerom began to feel… blocky. Sluggish. Strength from a muscle unused for millennia.

“Hold, my friend. I have something for that. [Entify: Medical Index].”

An unassuming leather book appeared in Jerom’s hands and he began flicking through it.

“A, B, C… D. There. [Detect D—], no that would be silly. F… G. [Greater Detect Life].”

He brought his gaze up towards the ruined house; his eyes glinted with the gentle power of the Tier 5 spell. He saw two green silhouettes through the walls.

“Two. Alive.”

He closed the book with care and returned it back to wherever the Skill kept it, smiling. The impossibly old desire to see what the Skill did was at least fulfilled.

“I see no signs of corruption. Perhaps the spell—”

“Eliminated it outright, for all that it was small. Where did you get a Scroll of [Utter Annihilation]?”

Jerom waved a hand dismissively.

“I beat an [Archmage] in Guess Who.”

He quickly elaborated as her eyes narrowed.

“A game popular at the time. Anyway, he got sloppy. Thus!”

Cleabex’s slitted eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“Sure you did.”

“I did! Granted… he never intended on letting me keep it. But I did own it—let’s check on those two fellows, shall we?”

A gravelly grumble was his reply. It took them only a moment to walk around the structure’s perimeter, to where the foundation was, geometrically speaking, sliced in half.

The unfamiliar glow of direct sunlight made them wince. When they rounded the corner, Cleabex groaned.

“Drath. Cyclops shit.”

“A… Peacock Beastkin. Fascinating. And a Human. Hello? How do you do?”

Neither Beastkin nor Human replied. They could see plainly that both were breathing; the Beastkin was laying on its back, and the Human was cross-legged, with something…?

“Oh, my. Cleabex, do you recall that tale I told you of the—”

“Is this really the time for a story? Yes, I remember. The Kraken that attacked the isle.”

“Indeed, indeed. Now, I had the displeasure, didn’t I…? Yes—[Entify: Kaazian Smelling Salts]. Ergh.”

He unstoppered the lid of the tiny vial that popped onto the page. The vile smell made them both disgusted and delighted in equal measures. It was nice to smell again.

“There does it…”

He wafted the vial under the Human’s nose who immediately gagged violently hunching over the seal. The Peacock Beastkin’s eyes snapped open and weakly pushed away Jerom’s arm.

Cleabex perched herself on a pile of dirty clothes, enjoying the feeling of touch once again; of fabric, watching the two children acclimatise themselves to the situation.

“Good day to you both. Do either of you happen to know about our little friend that narrowly missed you both?

Ivory was squinting his eyes repetitively, still adjusting to the scene, but Nozumu jolted.

“Ah, but perhaps it was on the more ‘dead’ side of reality?”

Cleabex snickered, causing Nozumu to look up and see the monstrous form looking down at him.

“Who—what—”

“How we lose our manners in death!” he replied, looking up at Cleabex who was shaking her head with her beak pursed—somehow.

“I am Jerom, a [Collector], and this is my good friend, Cleabex. We appear before you in rather curious circumstances—the land of the dead, our current home, is under siege. We are both dead, you see. The dead are rioting against their oppressors, and it seems the veil between the afterlife and the realm of the living is thinning. No doubt some scheme of the Three-In-One. We thought you may be able to tell us what’s happened, here?”

Nozumu’s head was spinning from the information being swished to and fro by his class, and the lack of divinity that was mingling with the influence of the Deadlands.

“I… don’t know. Clarissa disappeared. She was… evil? I’m sorry but I just don’t know!”

Nozumu’s mind was overheating from his class. Arcane secrets were on the foremost edge of his mind, but he just could not force it off. His frustration was palpable.

“Curious, curious. Perhaps a memory enchantment? A geas? Cleabex, this is your territory.”

Her thick, green tail coiled around her body as she thought for a moment.

“What happened to this ‘Clarissa’?”

“Gone?”

Jerom’s ears pricked at the non-accented voice of the Human.

“There are none but us here, lest this woman spirited herself away. I knew a [Forester] with a Skill to avoid death, but this culprit is far more than bark and leaf. One suspects that she has been completely obliterated, soul and spirit.”

Colour returned to Nozumu’s face as he parsed the man’s manner of speaking again in his head. She’s dead!

“How fortuitous. It seems that dying in this special little area is the true end of the line. No ghost, no death. You claim she simply disappeared?”

Three nods.

“The first time to be thankful for a Seamwalker,” Jerom replied airily. “We never asked your names, either—we are shocking, aren’t we? With whom do we have the eminent pleasure of conversing?”

Nozumu helped Ivory up; they sat on and leaned against the desk, respectively.

“... I am Nozumu, and that’s Ivory.”

“Misoe.”

Ivory grumbled as he stroked her head, trying to wake up from this fever dream. Jerom, though, shot Cleabex a triumphantly knowing look. She ignored it.

“So. We’re alive, right? All of that just happened?”

He looked like someone fallen prey to some torture device, and they could all tell. Jerom and Cleabex were slightly taken aback at their nonchalance, all things considered. Nozumu’s beak began to chatter.

“Confirmed by spell, you three are in fact alive—”

“Seamwalker?!”

The realisation set in at least; a primordial chortle made everyone jump.

“Correct, oisekin. Your home was crushed underfoot by a Seamwalker and then slain. Speak plainly to these children, Jerom. The throes of mortality afflict them—I can see it as clear as as day.”

“Correct as always, Cleabex. That a roaming son of Drath recognises not the signs of their eternal foe… but as you say, they are children.”

Nozumu and Ivory shared a look. We’re right here, you know?

“I fear we won’t have our peers’ great moment of inheritance. Why, it was through the entirety of magic’s end that I pondered what I might say to the living. ‘In the bin’, as they say.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Who are you?”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

_________________________

Across the world, a village shook as its matriarch glid through its subterranean tunnels.

__________________________

It was simply incredible. [Witches], [Serial Killers] and then… everything Clarissa? Now this?

“My. As you can see, I am a Human, hailing from Chandrar. Cleabex, my companion, is a Cockatrice, hailing from the great Roosts of Baleros. Have you, by chance, met them prior? I mean no offence to either, but many are quite perturbed by their form.”

Nozumu gulped. That species was completely foreign to him, but owing to their shared avian features, he wasn’t… too put off. Ivory, though…

“I mean, we were just almost killed by some fucking madwoman about to enslave us to her god.”

Instantly, Ivory felt his body stiffen. Two thick, red eyes stared into his.

“What did you just say?”

“Kas—”

The name froze, as the air in his mouth and throat filled became stone.

“A mortal agent of the Three-In-One. Sands preserve us.”

“Annihilated by her own hubris.”

She blinked away from Ivory; her eyes returned to grey.

“Never speak her name. Ever again.”

“Belief is their strength, you see. But this is not your war to wage, Be vigilant, but live. Live your lives to the fullest; the regrets of ghosts is to have not lived well enough. Now—”

Jerom clapped daintily. He smiled and appraised the two of them.

“Ghosts bereft of Skills and classes have returned to the world of the living to impart their knowledge. Owing to the traitor of Humankind, I am afforded my skills and class, and Cleabex her magic. I have travelled the world many times over, collecting all manner of trinkets and secrets. I bartered for immortality from mighty Drath to level and do what I loved, but we weren’t meant for that. I gave everything away, and died a planned death. In my final sleep, I reached a mighty capstone Skill.”

Despite himself, Ivory was hanging on to each word.

“Access to anything I have once held in my collection. Answer me, Ivory, Nozumu: what is it you wish to achieve? Your life’s work? To be able to say afore death, ‘I lived well’?”

Their reply was instant, and in unison.

“To level.”

“To level.”

They recoiled slightly, surprised at their forthwith, all things considered. Even Cleabex smiled. One she hadn’t done since seeing the chicks petrify their first bug.

“The Waning World, eh, Cleabex? These strapping young men have the spirit of millennia past.”

“They do.”

“[Stargazer] and [Sorcerer]—lucky letter s. ‘Tis a fine line between aid and crutch indeed. Have you anything to offer them, Cleabex?”

All eyes turned to the upright Cockatrice, whose serpentine tail was up at her eye’s level. Ivory gulped as four narrowed grey eyes seemed to look through him.

“A warning.”

“Oh?”

“Some nasty magic is coming our way. [Archmage] quality… reminds me of Azervish. Nasty. A beacon just dropped on our heads.”

The boys’ breath stopped. [Archmage]? People that ancient ghosts shudder? Nozumu’s eyes strained at the name of one of the most reviled empires of history.

“Oh, dear. A Seamwalker precaution, one suspects. Sensible. Let’s get out of here. If there’s anything you need to get, run.”

_______________________

An [Emperor] stood, hands interlocked neatly behind his back, staring up at an intricate mirror.

(“Matriarch. What ails you?)

A great figure in a sea of mist appeared in the reflection. His voice was level.

(“Cleaning up.”)

(“With magic enough to cleanse a Gathering Citadel.”)

His reply was pointed. Even she was bound to her [Emperor].

(“The filth has stolen from me a curiosity. I am cleaning up.”)

(“Be as you were.”)

The connection to the Mirror of Seiryuu was cut, leaving the [Emperor] to face his reflection.

_______________________

Ivory’s head darted around the room, looking for something to salvage. Steal, really, but fuck that bitch. Nozumu had flown upwards through the devastated mansion and out of sight; he could buy new clothes somewhere else, and make a new-and-improved Shocktowel.

Where there had been secrets of divinity and g…dead gods… know what else she had hoarded, there was nothing. All the books, binders and tomes had vanished after whatever it was that had destroyed it and Clarissa—a Seamwalker. Just thinking the word caused a creeping nausea through his gut.

All that was left were three books that had been buffeted off the table from Cleabex’s descent. He stuffed them in his bag of holding.

“That looks to slide,” Jerom added, trying to be helpful. He pointed to a cabinet right under where Ivory was standing. It wasn’t hidden, but it was a foreign space to investigate; desks typically had no space here, let alone a compartment.

Ivory moved aside as Jerom knelt down. He flinched as his ghostly hands touched the cold metal, before pulling it to the side.

“A cache of some sort. Though, what these vials contain… Elixirs of Youth, perhaps?”

Ivory spluttered as he dropped to his knees to investigate. Kleenex exhaled a coarse sigh.

“They’re healing potions.”

Hundreds of healing potions. Four crates, each with five levels to safely contain the precious red liquid. Ivory immediately started filling his bag of holding.

Jerom, though, was too awestruck to comment. Ivory noticed this, and Cleabex clarified.

“They didn’t exist when he was alive.”

The heavy statement, literally and figuratively, had no effect on Ivory.

“Yeah, well, they’re new to me too.”

“Consider it a boon, Human. They undermine your kind’s ability to level.”

Her serpentine tail shuddered.

“We have to go. Jerom.”

“Yes. Yes, we must.”

“Well, hurry up and give the kid your boon! We don’t have to move far to avoid getting vaporised!”

Ivory almost bolted then and there, if not for Nozumu’s aerial descent. He itched the tingle he felt above his ear.

“Ready.”

“I have thought, for this short period, hard, about what to bestow upon you. Us ghosts and our regrets; we miss the forests for the trees—”

“Jerom.”

“—but I have an idea. Long did we travel the continents, speaking to ghosts, and witnessing the rise and falls of cities and empires, and...”

Cleabex began her plan b as she fought every instinct to get the fuck out of there.

A long, gilded parchment appeared in Jerom’s arms. He traced along the leftmost corner with his index finger.

“... I know just the place. Goodbye, and live well.”

Ivory gripped Nozumu with his free arm as he saw the magic cascade from the scroll and envelop them—

———————————————

Jerom acted before Cleabex could.

“[Quarter Mile Blink]!”

A green pillar of light erupted from where they had just been. It lasted only a moment; no trace of green lingered. They felt the cold of nothingness on their skin.

———————————————

When Ivory came to, moments later, he was lucid of mind. Too lucid.. His arm was still tightly around his Misoe, and a sharpness was pressing against his shoulder.

He… felt hot. Very, very hot. And something was—

“A… pssshhhhfhchh!”

His head squelched across the damp ground from the sneeze’s force. It smelt… sweet. Sweet and moist. Not the salty air he had become used to.

Ivory opened his eyes. Nozumu was sprawled prone next to him; a bead of sweat stung his eyes shut.

The last thing he heard, amidst the swaying of trees, was the distant crunching of boots.

[Spellbinder Level 4!]

[Beast Tamer Level 11!]

[Skill – Misoe: Improved Levitation obtained!]

[Skill – Wildlife: Respect by Deed obtained!]

[Sorcerer Level 21!]

[Skill Change – Conceptualise Magic (Lesser) → Conceptualise Magic!]

[Skill – Conceptualise Magic obtained!]

[Skill – Learn Spell obtained!]

[Spell – Blood Hex: Forced Empathy learned.]

[Pact Upheld – The Charm of Zont.]

[Conditions Met: Skill – Zont’s Beginner’s Wand → Zont’s Apprentice’s Wand.]

[Skill – Zont’s Apprentice’s Wand obtained!]

[Skill – Avert Magical Mishap (Personal) obtained!]

[Skill – Zont’s Soulchime obtained!]

[Spell – Zont’s Soulchime: Soothe Soul obtained!]

The weight of the world was crushing a mind equipped to handle it. Nozumu allowed himself to let go, to withdraw the hands keeping it at bay.

[Student of Drath Level 10!]

[Skill – Lessons from the Homeland obtained!]

[Stargazer Level 16!]

[Conditions Met: Stargazer → Student of Higher Mysteries!]

[Class Consolidation: Student of Drath removed.]

[Student of Higher Mysteries Level 10!]

[Skill – Constellatory Insight obtained!]

[Skill – Apophenic Deduction obtained!]

[Skill – Perceive the Eldritch obtained!]

[Skill – Discern Kindred: Seniors of the Arcane obtained!]

[Skill – Nascent Astral Projection obtained!]

____________________________

A lithe figure walked through the dewy fields that he called his home, and livelihood. He was used to all kinds of things on his land: peckish birds and insects, his workers, the occasional unruly band of youths having a jolly jape…

The half-Elf stood by the unconscious bodies and sighed. He wasn’t fond of change.