The marble was black and speckled white, smooth to the touch and polished, it was a beauty to look at in a took me back to being young, getting new marbles that hadn’t yet been beaten and bashed by play.

Grandma had bought me some at the height of the frenzy when I had been six – not a lot, but sizeable all the same. My friends hadn’t had any and so I’d given them some of mine, lying to Grandma and telling her I’d lost them when she’d notice their dwindling number. She hadn’t bought any new marbles after that, but my collection had grown all the same by entering risky games that sometimes lost me entire swathes.

I had been really good at marbles, but the fad had ended and my collection had disappeared at the back of a drawer.

Even so, the memories brought calm and contentedness with them, something that fuelled me for the next few hours as I tried to figure out the power of the spatial marble.

I performed the hallmarks of what TV and books said magic lessons would be like. First meditating to see if the impression in my head would be any different; then pointing my hand at various objects and thinking teleport; and finally it was reciting some spells from books and movies, hoping that something would click.

Of course it didn’t work because that wouldn’t have made sense.

Magic required study and would therefore not be easy – if people could figure out this stuff on their own then everyone would be a mage; and Cicero wouldn’t have given me the stone if I could use its power to escape. What he’d done was nice, but I had to remember that I couldn’t trust him or anyone in this world.

Keeping the stone secret, though, made sense. However little utility it had right now, it was still a tool I could use. So I stowed the marble in the elastic of my underwear, wearing so it would touch skin.

Then I had to settle into another wait.

My spatial sense alerted me to their appearance, impressions that moved in a circle that rose up. There were two impression who walked up the Mourning Tower, but as the door opened it was to reveal three of them.

The first and most attention grabbing was the woman. She was the tallest of the group, dressed in armour-like leather in muted browns, trimmed with a bright blues, at her breast her family crest – two olive branches which formed the walls and a regal crown to close it off, at the centre were a crossed spear and hammer. The woman’s arms were thick and meaty, crisscrossed and pockmarked with pale scars; there were gold bracelets around her arms and a necklace around her neck, all three studded with differently coloured gems; most distracting was the glass eye, swirling with clouds of light and emanating a low glow.

It took a bit of effort to look away.

The second was a willowy guy wearing clothes that had a lot more flow – a tunic in a checkered blue and white while his pants were navy, matching expensive looking boots. He had brown hair, lighter than the woman’s but just as curly, kept short but still long enough it hid his forehead; and sitting around the man’s fine looking necklace – a thick chain of threaded gold and silver, and a face pendant studded with pale blue gems different from the water stones in the tub.

The last member of the trio wasn’t a person but a red-furred fox that wore a whole lot of jewellery; it had gold bangles on each of its limbs, a gaudy necklace around its neck and a row of piercings along its left ear.

“I think he is entranced by you, Surefoot,” the guy said, his voice filled with mirth; his eyes, though, gave away the truth, they were too keen, fully settled on me and never straying.

“It is not unexpected,” said the fox. He said more but at that point, my brain had stopped working.

My mouth fell open and all rational thought left me. A bark of laughter slipped out, quickly turning maniacal the more I ran over the memory. The fox had opened its mouth and its throat had moved, but its mouth hadn’t contorted in the shapes needed to make words.

Yet all the same I’d heard it speak.

A fox.

There’d been talking animals in movies and cartoons, but most of them had been humanoid which felt like it made a semblance of sense. The fox before me was a quadruped and there was nothing to differentiate it from regular foxes aside from its accessories – which wasn’t all that strange when people did the same for their dogs.

But it had talked.

“Is he broken?” the woman asked, her to dry and her expression put off.

The guy shook his head. “Histories gathered from past Champions speak of the non-existence of your folk, Surefoot,” he said. “No doubt he is surprised by you as you would be if you were to meet the Krugs.”

“Well, tend to him,” the woman ordered.

“I have not the slightest idea what you wish me to do, sister,” he said.

“You’ve met his kind before,” she said, irritated.

The words and tone pulled me back. They were familiar, something that played out on my world when it came to assumption and the language barrier – people thinking they could get something past me because they thought I couldn’t understand Afrikaans, and the same true for me expecting others didn’t understand Xhosa.

It was sanity in an insane world and I held onto that, getting the ball rolling so that I could think past the talking fox.

The guy took a step forward. Instinctively I took one back, keeping my distance, though my eyes moved to his. He spoke, switching to a language I couldn’t understand.

Pull yourself together.

“I…it can talk?” I said. The fox’s features shifted, becoming an expression of utmost loathing, so intense it made me feel ashamed of myself.

“He,” the fox said, again not moving lips so much as opening its mouth and the words spilling out. It felt a lot like a cartoon show with a small budget, not enough going to the correct mouth flaps.

Except it was reality.

“I…ah…” Brain work! I’d offended him. “I’m sorry, for…I just…”

There was magic in this world and it felt like that had been easy to accept, but this stumped me. I tried my best to wrap my head around it but a mantra of talking fox, talking fox, talking fox was so loud it drowned everything else out.

“I am offended,” the fox admitted, “but I am aware of your surprise. Your apology is accepted.”

“Uh…”

It’s probably a bad idea to keep thinking of him as the fox, a small part of my mind whispered, one that still hung on to a sliver of sanity in the mire of brokenness.

“We are to take you to your new quarters,” said the woman.

“Introductions first,” the guy said, “followed by the tour. Have you forgotten so easily, sister?”

She let out an annoyed breath. “No,” she said. “I am Allycea Mandaron, first daughter of the great king Orpheus Mandaron, and heir to the Althorean throne. Alongside me is Prince Odysseus Mandaron and Surefoot, heir to Duke Suddenstep of the Briarpatch Dens.”

“Uh…”

“You are to say well met, Your Highness,” Allycea continued, “before introducing yourself in turn. Are your people not taught etiquette and decorum?”

I took a deep breath, tried to formulate a few words and failed. My eyes were still on the fox—Surefoot—and how he sat, tail flicking lazily as he stared me down.

Allycea sighed. “Curse father for this task,” she muttered. “There is more I could be doing than this.”

Odysseus smiled. “If you are to be ruler of Althor, sister, you will have to accustom yourself to a variety of behaviours, this amongst them.”

Allycea muttered something I couldn’t hear under her breath.

“I’m…uh…I’m Jordan,” I said, the word stilted.

“Ah, there it is,” said Odysseus and he smiled, easy and welcoming, as if he was proud of me simply for introducing myself. “Finally his wits have returned to him. Well met, Champion Jordan.”

“Well met,” said Allycea, the words a grunt.

“Graciously met,” Surefoot spoke.

I swallowed and forced myself to look away. My eyes found Allycea’s glass eye, swirling with a myriad of colours. It momentarily flashed brighter and I blinked.

Was that magic? I thought and that seemed to root me a little.

“Are you going to take me to my new room?” I asked.

“After a tour, yes,” said Allycea, an annoyed glance directed at her brother once more. “Father thought it best if you were accompanied by someone who is of age with you.”

“It was not the king but the Grand Mage Cicero,” said Surefoot. “I will not be in the company of deception.”

“Oh, dear friend,” said Odysseus, “and here I thought you had learnt the most important of skills in walking amongst my kind.”

Surefoot made a sound close to a sneeze, which my mind thought of as a snort. “I will not lower myself to human standards,” he said. I realised that I’d gone back to staring at him again, my mouth agape. “This grows tiresome.” He stood and turned. “You will find me in my quarters.” And with that Surefoot left.

“Have care on the stairs!” Odysseus said, his tone teasing. He gave me his full attention. “It is a pleasure to meet a Champion,” he said, “and I am grateful indeed that I was chosen to be your escort.”

“You were not,” said Allycea. Odysseus scowl at her, his composure slightly slipping away. “Have you enough mental acuity that we can be off?” she asked me.

“Uh…” The words didn’t come out, so instead I nodded.

“Then let us be off,” she said and turned without waiting.

It took me a bit before I followed, with Odysseus at my side. He was shorter than I was and thin in a way that looked frail. So close to him, I noticed that his necklace had diagrams carved into it, most around the pendant, but fine lines moving on the loops of his chain.

“Ah,” he said. “You have an interest in my artefact.”

“Is it magic?” I asked. “I noticed that some stones in this world are.”

Odysseus nodded, touching his chain and revealing the back which had more of the intricate carvings.

“A sign that I have been tutored by temporal mages,” he said. “Not a full education, but enough that I have a rudimentary understanding of the art.”

Ahead of us Allycea snorted.

“Ignore my sister, she thinks her mastery of hand gestures is greater than my power,” he said.

“Three years of your life but you still use an artefact much like me. It is was a wasted three years, though certainly better than the path you have chosen now. Storyteller,” she said, the words ending in a chuckle.

Palm faced forward, Odysseus’ hand shot forward, the pinkie and ring fingers dropped and the rest raised; a blue light spread over his hand and shot forward as he twisted his hand. The light flowed forward like an inky mass, hitting and slithering over Allycea’s form, wrapping her in bands around her legs, arms, waist and head.

Allycea stopped mid-step. Frozen.

“My sister doubts my talent,” he said. Odysseus wore a smile but his tone was hard, his eyes harder still – hiding some offence behind good humour. “It is sometimes necessary to remind her of my power.”

“Um…okay,” I said.

I felt conflicted, unsure whether to feel excited by more magic or terrified at how casually he could and had done it. The prince’s actions made the disparity between me and everyone else more pronounced. I had been in situations like this before and most of the time it made sense to play along, it was safer that way.

“What did you do to her?” I asked, doing my best to keep the tension from my voice.

“Stopped the ever-ticking clock,” he said. “She is stalled, unable to move or perceive the goings-on of the world. Granted we have only thirty ticks before the spell breaks and she can move again.”

The bands binding Allycea got thinner as time passed, their glow getting dimmer as the light evaporated into wisps.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Ticks?” I asked.

He held out his pendant. “Touch,” he said and I did. Just as the marble meant I knew how far people were from me, the stone filled my head with a tick eerily reminiscent to that of an analogue clock. I counted.

“A tick is a second?” I said.

Odysseus brightened. “Yes. Champion Darren tried his best to change our current measure of time from ticks to seconds, minutes and hours but he was too short lived to have seen that into fruition. We wondered how they kept time when—”

“Wait. Short lived?”

His eyes widened, turning into relief as his sister moved. She continued forward, not noticing that she’d been stalled. Odysseus followed but I stayed in place.

“What do you mean short lived?” I asked again, my voice louder and more desperate.

Allycea stopped and turned, momentarily confused before she glared at her brother. “What did you say to him?”

“I might have mentioned how early in his life Champion Darren died,” he said.

“Something you haven’t exactly explained,” I said, feeling stupid that I hadn’t considered it. They were expecting me to fight for them – in a fucking war. The people I was up against would either be desperate, well trained or both. How the fuck was I expected to win?

This – my summoning, the talk of importance, everything – was with the understanding that I’d probably die for them.

The staircase was narrow, with no room to escape. Surefoot was gone but Allycea and Odysseus were here and he had magic on his side. I did too, but being able to sense how far people were from me wouldn’t help.

But I had to escape, because that was fucking better than staying here and either being assassinated or dying in battle.

“Father will explain all when you speak,” said Allycea.

Which didn’t make me feel better.

When I said nothing she turned and descended.

We reached the bottom of the stairs, then went through a wide hall with suits of armour every so often. They were a lot like the armour of the regular guard, most of them of polished metal and had no carvings or magic gems. It was the same hall I’d passed through coming into the Mourning Tower, though my mind had been so stupored that I hadn’t noticed my surroundings.

“We will begin on the last floor, through the dungeons,” said Allycea.

The dungeons? Does she know I’m planning to escape? Is that a threat?

“So economical, my sister,” said Odysseus. “The dungeons make up the lowest floors and she wishes for us to make the rounds as it were. From the deepest depths to the highest peaks. Something which would take much of the day.”

“Have you a better idea?” she asked, irritated.

“Perhaps the gardens,” said Odysseus, “those are always a pleasure.”

“I’d like to see the gardens,” I said.

They would be outside, making running easier.

“We will have to take the elevator,” Allycea said.

“Wait,” I said, my mind catching. “You have elevators?”

“Is that odd?” Odysseus asked and for the first time I detected genuine emotion, genuine interest in his voice.

“I mean…yeah. Or fuck, maybe not. You have gravity magic – except if that’s not how it works?”

“You have the right of it,” the prince said, his smile taking on the same sincerity. “Gravitational magic allows for the increase, reduction, or the measured reversal of the fundamental property of gravity. The elevators are of that function, though the minutiae of it is lost to me. I had, long ago, befriended a mage technician who I thought might reveal his Order’s secrets, but the laws are strict even to those of royal or noble lineage—oh, let us take the balcony,” he said, “it will be grand to see the lake this time of day.”

If it’s short enough then maybe I’ll be able to jump off.

Allycea changed direction and we followed.

“What sort of laws?” I asked, trying my best to sound not-tense.

The halls were devoid of life, though sometimes there were suits of armour or paintings on the walls; there were doors every so often, most made of wood though some were made from stone, all of them had intricate lines, either images or diagrams that fit together to make pleasing images.

“Laws which have unmade certain families that sought to increase their power,” he said. “I talk of Raemond the Brazen, who sent his daughter to the Sky Cities to learn gravity magic. She returned six years later with secrets of the art. Unknown to many, Raemond had a cache of gravity crystals, and his daughter taught the most studious of her siblings and cousins to use them.”

“And then?” I asked.

“Rivals found out and spread the word, representatives of the Sky Court came to demand their execution less treaties and pacts be rendered null and void. Such treaties were far too important and too wide reaching to be done away with, and their will was done. Now Raemond’s family is no more, alive only in memory as a warning.”

“Fuck,” I said. Ahead of us Allycea glanced back, turned up a lip and shook her head.

“My sister thinks you uncivilised.” The same look she’d shot at me was one I directed to the back of her head. Odysseus laughed. “And I see the same is true for you too.”

Allycea snorted.

I shrugged. “A lot of shitty stuff happened in my world’s history because of people slotting others in the uncivilised category,” I said.

“Truly?” he said. “I would find it the highest honour if you were to teach me your histories. There is much that I know, learned from the annals of past Champions, though it would be beneficial if more was learned. To know the changes that have come to your realm and to know that which the others might not have known.”

“I don’t know how much I’ll be able to help you, guy. I wasn’t really into history. I hated it honestly. Stopped taking it three years ago.”

Odysseus sighed. “A pity,” he said.

In the distance the hall ended in an arch that let in light, a nipping wind drifting in the closer we came. Birds flew away as we walked out.

To our left were a large set of windows and to our right…

“How high up are we?” I asked, my breath taken away.

The experience was awe-striking at first, before a chill of wind caught me and my brain remembered that I could fall and how awful that could be. My feet took me back so I could be as far away as possible from the balcony, and thus far away from falling.

Odysseus laughed and went to lean against it, partially sitting on the ledge.

“Twenty stories,” said Odysseus. “Half the height of the castle. Have you no buildings of this height in your realm?”

“We do,” I said, “just…never been in one.”

The castle was on an island, and looking down I could see the beach in the distance, lined by tall trees. As high as the building was, it had been placed at the top of a hill which made it taller still; beyond were light blue waters stretching as far as the eye could see. Had Cicero not told me that it was a lake, I might have thought it was the ocean.

“Beautiful, is it not?” Odysseus asked. “The waters?” he added, when I said nothing.

“Yeah,” I said with a swallow.

“It is said the lake was breathed to life by a dire beast,” he said.

“Nothing but wives’ tales,” Allycea said dismissively. Odysseus’ expression turned to restrained frustration. “You know I speak the truth,” she said. “Those are stories much like the stories of the oceans being formed from large chunks of water gems.”

“Some dire beasts—”

“Where’s the city? Althor?” I asked, interrupting Odysseus.

“Altheer,” Allycea corrected, leaning against the balcony.

A little push and she could fall, came the passing thought. But even if she was out of the picture, I’d still have to leave the island.

Not to mention that I would have killed someone.

“Your names sound too similar,” I said, pulling myself back. “Althor, Altheer and Altrain?”

“Altrine,” Allycea said, her tone with hints of frustration.

“They are the names of the Fates,” said Odysseus. “The gods most highly praised in our kingdom. Althor, the first of the brothers and the most powerful, he who created the world, the waters and all its climes; Altheer, who created the peoples of this world, giving them of his intellect; and Altrine who created animals so that they might aid in our strength — be it as combatants or as food.”

“Sometimes both,” Allycea said with a smile.

“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry for disrespecting your faith then.”

She only shrugged.

“Have you gods in your realm?” Odysseus asked.

“I mean, it’s a lot,” I said, swallowing again. “Can we get out of here? The height isn’t good for my head, or stomach.”

“We would reach the ground faster if we were to jump,” said Allycea.

“No!” I said and she chuckled.

I followed as she walked, my mind factoring in that now I was on an island, surrounded by long stretches of water. Escape wouldn’t be as easy as I’d thought, not when I’d first have to find a boat and row to the city of Altheer.

Try your best to commit everything to memory. If you’re going to get out of here, the layout of the castle is going to be very important.

I’d been a part of the rowing club for six months at school a few years back, and if I could find a boat I was sure I would be able to get myself ashore.

As terrifying as it was and as hopeless as it felt, I would have to be patient if I was to have any chance at escape.

***

The smell of something sweet hung heavy in the air as we stepped out of the castle into the garden. It was a beautiful affair, with grass and hedges split off into squares and circles, the entire display made to be perfectly symmetrical. Green dominated, but it was dotted with reds, lavenders and bits of gold. Trees bordered the edges of the garden, tall, thin-trunked and pink leafed — unmoving even though a breeze coaxed the scents alive.

It hit me how cold the floor had been as I stepped onto stone that had been warmed by the sun. I took a moment to work my toes, taking deep breaths and enjoying the moment.

Unlike the castle, the air was alive with sound. The buzz of bees as they drifted between flowers, the chirps of differently coloured birds filling the air. I spotted a squirrel, large and fat, its fur changing colour as it moved down along a tree, jumped onto the grass and then found its way onto a patch of shade to disappear.

Neither Allycea nor Odysseus mentioned it so it must have been normal.

“This is one of seven gardens of the castle,” said Odysseus. “One of two on the ground with the rest on the higher floors. This garden, for all its magnificence, is rarely used by nobility, offering respite for the servants who live on the lower floors.”

“There are better places to enjoy nature if it is to your proclivities,” said Allycea. “Gardens with better views, with more exotic plant species than this and no threat of bees.”

“Mother’s garden is quite exquisite,” said Odysseus and his sister nodded.

I turned around and looked up at the castle.

It was tall, the sort of height that made it seem like the building would fall over. It had a blocky centre from which thick and thin towers seemed to grow without a care for physics. Honestly, it wasn’t pretty, it didn’t have any cohesion, instead it looked like towers had been added because they could. The castle was coloured light blue and white, colours which seemed brighter as the waters of Lake Altrine reflected sunlight onto the building. I wondered how the effect looked further away.

“This is all so big,” I said, feeling out of my bearings again.

“The castle?” Odysseus asked.

I shook my head. “Everything,” I told me. “This entire situation, from the magic, to the castle that doesn’t make sense, the talking foxes.”

“Have care what you call Surefoot’s people,” said Allycea. “He would not appreciate being called a fox.”

I frowned.

“Much as you would not appreciate being called an ape,” Odysseus explained.

“Um…okay,” I said. “Are there like…non-talking foxes?”

“Just as there are apes, yes,” he said.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll do my best to keep that in mind.” I sighed. “It’s just so much, so quickly. You keep saying all these things that frankly should be impossible, and you’re talking about them like it’s not a big deal.”

Allycea sighed. “I beg of you, do not lose your intellect once again. My measure of you was beginning to change for the better.”

“High praise,” her brother muttered, smiling.

“Can you not? Please?” I said, irritated. The wonder was starting to disappear and a tumult starting to take its place. Fear, irritation and anger all bled together, running through me and threatening to bubble over. I tried to rein it in but it was hard. “Can you just please treat this like how seriously fucked up it is? God, you’re all calm and shit, and here I am, fucking expected to die for people I don’t even know.”

“Champions are supposed to be heroes—”

“Fuck that,” I said, interrupting Allycea. Her expression changed. “As if you would die for someone you didn’t know.”

She frowned, looking to her brother. “Father said he was calm.”

“Perhaps he was hiding it,” he said.

“Again, don’t! Don’t fucking talk like I’m not here—you know what, fuck this.”

The thoughts weren’t clear and I had no greater plan but I moved. Odysseus was three steps away and he was my first target. He wasn’t a fighter – that was clear because his eyes went wide – and he froze. I covered distance quickly, hand shooting out in a punch.

Fist met face and a lance of pain shot through my hand. The punch wasn’t any good, there was supposed to be form involved and I didn’t have any of that, but it was enough of a hit to surprise Odysseus. I ignored the shooting pain and turned to Allycea, then turned again because something about her told me that she wouldn’t be as easy to take down.

I took off, tracking Allycea who began to laugh heartily, the sound loud against the muted garden.

I ran, eyes keeping to the brick laid walkways which divided the two sides, half of my attention focused on the impressions of Allycea and Odysseus which were behind me. I’d always been a fast runner, but it wasn’t a talent I’d developed and fatigue caught up to me quickly.

From the garden to the perimeter was maybe a kilometre, but without having gotten to the halfway point my lungs were starting to burn and I had a hard time breathing. My heart pumped uncomfortably against my chest, so hard that I thought it my burst, and it was as though I could feel the blood rushing through my body. Worst of all, though, was that I felt like I was seconds from throwing up.

Halfway from the border Allycea moved for the first time. I couldn’t help but look back as the impression in my head rose into the air. She had jumped so high it almost seemed like flight; a storey high at least, with a forward thrust that took her further, covering much of the distance I had in a single bound.

I almost tripped and focused ahead of me, quickly regaining my balance.

Faster. Faster. Faster.

Allycea landed, still behind me, but as she leapt again her shadow passed over my head, reaching the boundary and landing with a roll. As she stood and whipped around, the air around her hands rippling seconds before two swords appeared, both thin fencing blades, one shorter than the other. Her expression was a manic grin as she stared me down, body angled forward and her swords at the ready.

I came to a stop, head sweeping side to side trying to find another exit.

Left this time I started to run. In the corner of my eye I saw as light wrapped around her form, a pink-purple mixed with white that clung close to her body; she didn’t jump, but slid forward while her body tilted back, her shoes scraping against the brick walkway. It wasn’t as fast as the knight, but it was quick enough to get ahead of me before I could get too far.

She levelled her swords at me again, the light around her disappearing.

“Will I have the pleasure of fighting you, Champion?” she asked. “Or is it your way to hit those who do not expect it? Are you without honour?”

My frustration evaporated, in its place fear of the large woman who had two swords ready to stab me, and heated shame at my own stupidity. I’d just told myself that I’d be patient, looking for the perfect opportunity to escape. And yet I hadn’t.

“You—you can’t hurt me,” I said. “I’m important. I’m the Champion.”

“Cousin Elsy is a healer,” she said, “she is quite capable of mending cuts. Come, Champion. Fight me as you did my brother. On my honour, I swear to secret you into the city if you beat me.”

“I—I—fuck,” I said.

She tsked in annoyance and her swords disappeared. “And I had thought there was some grit to you,” she muttered. “I fear for the fate of Althor if you are to be its Champion.”

I’m going to die, aren’t I?

I tried to find something to say and couldn’t. What was there to say, what was there to do? It felt like things were too highly stacked against me and there was no conceivable way that I could escape. Which left the only option to go with the flow which…I mean, they expected me to fight a war for them, when I wasn’t a fighter in the first place.

How the fuck was that in anyway sane?

Things suddenly changed, the impressions in my head jumping.

Where Odysseus had been behind me and Allycea in front, they were still there but they’d moved slightly. Allycea a few steps to the left while her brother had gotten maybe a meter or two closer.

Time. They stopped me.

“Do you still wish to tour the grounds?” Allycea asked. “We’ve stayed too long in this garden for my liking.”

“No,” I said. The tour had been about finding a way to escape, but I wasn’t in the mood for such hopes right now. I wanted to be alone, away from the people who made me feel the most powerless.

“We shall lead you to your quarters, then,” said Allycea. She went ahead, bumping my shoulder as she passed me by. I followed, Odysseus sticking beside me.

“My sister punches better,” he said to me, his tone teasing.

I didn’t say anything, keeping my head down.

Silence pervaded before Odysseus acted, casting out blue light that stopped Allycea mid-step.

“Thirty ticks,” he said, giving me his full attention. “Fear not Champion, your fate is not to die. It is true that Father is too cautious a man to give you too much power, but he is of keen intellect – warrior though he might be. This will be a game of politics, I am sure of it. That Althor has its own Champion will turn those who allegiance is beginning to wane to our side once more, and your continued life will be light and hope for the realm. You will be granted power and skill, you will see combat I am certain, but it will only be enough to further entrench our allies to our cause.”

Before I could get a word in, the effect around Allycea disappeared and she continued on, none the wiser.

This is an act, I thought. They planned it when I was stopped.

Even so I could let out a relieved breath.

The situation still wasn’t ideal, but I wouldn’t be dying anytime soon, increasing the time I had to come up with an escape plan. Hopefully the lesson would stick now, my way out of here wouldn’t be on rushing through things. I needed patience, to go with the flow as much as possible until the perfect opportunity presented itself.

Calm. Collected. Patient. Smart.

As we went to my new room I made that my mantra. It would be the only way I survived all this and went back home.