Prologue

"Hey! Wait up, you're going too fast!" My friend complains as she runs after me. Begrudgingly, I slow down and turn to look at her. I startle and seize up when I find that I can't focus on her face, and a heavy panic begins to shoot through me. While she jogs up, I desperately try to focus on her face or even remember what she looked like.

"Come on, Al," she breathes out, catching up to me. "What's the hurry—are you all right?" She interrupts herself when she sees the horror evident on my face. Reality seems to snap back into focus as I turn away from her and continue walking. All of the anxiety vanished as if it had never existed. "Yes, of course.” "We just need to move quickly before my sister spots us on her patrol and realizes something's up," I say as she begins walking with me.

"I found something in the attic-" I attempt to explain before I'm interrupted, "Brynja says we can't go up there!" She gasps, interrupting me. "Yes," I scowl back at her, pausing for a split second when I notice the blur on her face and attempting to stop before being forced to look ahead of myself.

"I'm well aware of what 'Brynja' says. What amazes me is that a 19-year-old still follows what a woman scarcely 5 years older than herself says as closely as if it were an order from her Goddess." "It's just — she's Brynja, you know?" she blushes. A wry smile crosses my lips. "No, I rather don't, why don't you explain in detail if you don't mind?" The blush darkens, and she spends a few moments stammering out some excuse before I roll my eyes and sigh, cutting her off with a gesture. "I get it; there's no need for all of that; I'll explain more of what we're doing when we get to the clearing." She nods and follows along into the forest.

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"Place the candles in the circles, but don't light them yet," I instruct her as I study the ritual in the ancient, dusty tome. "I don't like this." She repeats grumpily, "Mmmm. Noted. Again." I reply offhand. "It's just an imp,” I explain when I realize her growing reluctance is slowing the process. “Once I summon it and bind it as a familiar, it will be perfectly safe, and Old Lightning Rod will have to take me as an apprentice." I can practically hear the frown cross her lips at the old wizards' miss-title.

"His taken name is Lightning borne," she corrects, exasperated "Alberich, you know he isn't taking any unproven apprentices." I look up to give her a smug smile as I gesture toward the ritual circle, but am struck once again by what should be my friend’s face. "Yes, hence the imp," I respond despite struggling to say something else. “I guess.” She sighs as she finishes placing the candles.

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I slowly walk the short circumference of the ritual circle, double- and triple-checking the runes against the ones in the tome. “Okay,” I say, stopping next to my friend, “it looks like we're ready." "After I light the candle, prick your finger and let a drop of blood hit the circle's edge,” I instruct. "Okay." She nods, but with a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "Hey," I put my hand on her shoulder and am forced to look into where her eyes should be. I stop speaking, and with rising panic, I realize that I can't even remember her name.

It feels like, for a moment, everything slows down as I desperately search my memories for any clue as to what it might be. As I’m failing to find it, I feel her eyes slowly shift to mine, causing my panic and horror to climb even higher. However, when they make direct contact, the blur melts away, and I'm met with deep brown eyes flecked with radiant gold and brilliant silver.

"Lily," I sigh in relief while I look over my best friend's face. Curly brown locks of hair flow down her shoulders, framing a slightly slim face full of freckles. Just as her eyes begin to turn once again to looking concerned, I continue. "Trust me. Worst comes to worst, it's just an imp; a child with a dull knife could take one in a fight. The future royal wizard and the best cleric on the continent should have no issues. Right?" She looks me in the eyes and silently searches my gaze before smiling. "Right, wherever they are, they shouldn't have a problem."

I snort and shake my head as I take my place in front of the circle. Cracking open the tome, I begin the chant in infernal and execute the hand gestures to near perfection. When the final words are spoken, I wave my hand, and all of the candles ignite. Lily then pricked her finger and dropped a single drop of her blood onto the circle's edge before rushing back behind me.

There is no wind, no noise from the forest creatures—nothing but the hazy sense of mana being drawn into the ritual. For several long, pregnant moments, nothing happens. Just for a second, I begin to think that the spell hasn't worked, but in reality, I know better. I know better because I know how this will end—how it always ends. My heart races, and suddenly I can't breathe. Terror makes my skin crawl and my hair stand on end; the pain I wouldn't yet know-couldn't yet know burns cold against my currently unmarred flesh, and in the middle of it all, I can't breathe. Why can't I breathe?

Regardless, I hope that maybe, just maybe, this time I didn't make whatever mistake, whatever trivial fucking error, that caused that horrible, God-forsaken thing to walk through. Maybe the spell will just fail, or perhaps an actual imp will fly through, annoyed and unbelievably annoying.

My hope is dashed, as it always is because as soon as the forest, the world, the plane, or reality itself comes to a halt, it begins again. as the creature strolls through a reality below and beyond our own and into the circle. I begin to fade out as I struggle to breathe, everything blurring and blackening. It is a meager mercy that I cannot see as it begins forward shattering the basic wards and runes of the circle. I can only see its outline as it makes its way toward me. Though before it reaches me, I feel something move against my face, smothering my mouth. I reach up and pull at whatever is blocking my breath, just as the creature reaches me and swipes down.

I sit up in bed, pulling something from my face as I gasp for air. I clutch at a trembling book, my trembling book. I look around my room to steady myself. Eventually, I notice that it refuses to settle and look down at it. I begin to stroke it along its spine until it calms and begins to rise. Instead, I grab it and pull it to my chest, "Thank you," I whisper. I take in the room around me. The darkly stained wood, familiar shapes, and smells of my room are a far cry from the forest clearing. "Thank you, but please, next time, don't almost kill me trying to wake me up." "After everything I've been through, it would be pretty pathetic to die in my sleep."

I allow my book to rise and begin to get dressed. "Today is the day," I address my book, floating nearby, as it takes the queue to turn to my daily planner. "We'll see if we can't break the rules of dimensional travel today." It responds by doing a little flip in the air as I crack a smile. "Let's get to it then." I pause at the door to my bedroom and clutch an amulet of golden crystal around my neck.

"I haven't forgotten; after today, I'll be one step closer, Lily; I'm almost there; just wait a bit longer," I promise aloud. I walk out the door, my book floating along behind me, into the early morning, and what I hope are the last few steps to set everything right.

Chapter 1

Sophie

Delaware City, Reedy Point Bridge

*CRACKA-THOOM*

Startled, I turn toward the flash of lightning as it seems to hit a telephone pole near the bridge. I gulp, turning my back to the edge of the bridge. "That could have been me," I mutter, any sound lost to the torrent of rain hitting the top of the bridge. "It should have been."

I return to sitting and staring out at the edge, shamefully trying to find any excuse not to rise, and begin to walk over. My hands and feet have stopped hurting from the climb, and no police lights or desperate shouts have come calling for me. I close my eyes, swallow, and cut faster and faster, unconcerned about cutting myself.

Eventually, I finish and excitedly run my hands back and forth over my shaved-down head while giggles bubble out of my mouth. "But, oh my! Sophie, how will you ever find a man looking like that?” I mock in a high-pitched, nasal tone. I snort, "What the fuck makes you think I want one anyway?" I look up and away from the river, closing my eyes and riding the surge of freedom in my chest.

Reality comes crashing back down on me as my body begins to shiver in the rain and cold. "Oh well," I sigh and slowly begin to stand, "back to it." I once more gazed into the river, despair now mixing with a lighter feeling of expectancy and hope that washed back over me as I teetered on the edge.

Despite the light feeling, I stop before I lean too far. “Okay, I can do this." "It's just a step.” By saying so, I attempt to will myself to step forward. When that fails, I attempt to shift my weight until I just fall, but I can't force myself to keep leaning or stop fighting the wind. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, and I grind my teeth together. "Come on, come on!" I beg through gritted teeth, "It won't even hurt; just one step and it'll be over!" " Please?" I whimper out into the night, straining to remain at the edge. A sudden, fierce wind almost pushes me over, and I panic and collapse backward.

Minutes pass with me laying on my back, staring up at the sky, trying to understand what just happened. I curl up into a ball and begin sobbing. I lose track of time while rocking myself and crying. My hands and feet begin to burn with the cold, forcing me to stop.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Slowly, I sit up. "Okay,” I begin to reason out as I rub my hands and feet to warm them, “I can't go back, so I won't." I don't have any money, but you don't need any to eat out of the trash. "I can still do this; I don’t need them," I reassured myself aloud, before noticing that the burn seemed to be spreading and the tips of my fingers and toes were becoming numb.

"I can't do anything if I die from the cold, though," I say as I begin to move back to where I climbed up. I stop when I notice sparks jumping from one rivet to another. I blink and look at my arm, where I feel the hair on it begin to rise and look down again when I feel the tickle of a charge building under my feet. Raising my eyes out at the clouds overhead, I notice them crackling with built-up energy and whisper a soft, "Oh, okay." I close my eyes and sink to my knees as all of the tension leaves my body and I feel myself relax.

*CRACKA-*

There is no boom, no pain, just the sudden feeling of no more rain hitting me and humid warmth against my skin. I stay there with my eyes closed, just waiting for whatever comes next. “Hey kid, are you ok?” a deep, masculine voice asks from beside me. I frown and slowly open my eyes. My gaze follows the marble walls down to a set of massive arched double doors inscribed in gold along the arch: Is... what could be German?

My eyes track around the large circular room and are drawn to a tall, bronze-skinned man in a Blue Coats jersey. He seems to be arguing with a scowling, pale, raven-haired woman wearing a curve-hugging white robe trimmed in gold. Behind her are three large men wearing what looks like silvery cloth-covered metal armor, straight out of a history textbook.

I finally notice the middle-aged black man wearing a rain jacket with the word "SECURITY" written on the breast, crouching to my side and looking concerned. "What?" I managed to stammer out after staring at him for several moments. "I asked if you were ok." He repeats while removing his jacket. "Here, you're soaked through; this will help a bit." I realize he's right as I continue to shiver despite the warmth of the room.

"Uh, thank you," I reply, taking the jacket and, despite it being several sizes too large for me, shrugging it on. "Don't mention it." He stands and offers me a hand. I notice a gun holstered by his chest and just stare at it for a moment before looking back up at him. "Am I dead?" He blinks down at me as he retracts his hand. His face turns thoughtful as he seems to think about it for a moment. It turns into a scowl, however, as the argument starts to become louder. "Because of the lightning, right?" Looking over at the debate, he asks. "No, at least I don't think so, and no Heaven I know of has an angel ever called anyone inferior."

Before I can ask what he means, the woman turns and looks directly at me. My breath catches at how beautiful she is. Her black hair curls down her shoulders, framing her pale face, sharp features, and flawless skin. My heart drops as a look of utter disgust overcomes her features. "What is this thing?" she asks, stepping away from the group and towards us. "Three different attempts, three worthless failures," she spits out.

I don't even have the time to fully register what she said before Blue Coats steps back up alongside her and begins to protest, "Hey, that's not..." The woman turns to him with a sneer and waves toward the men. We watch as he's interrupted by an armored hand grabbing him by the back of the neck and pushing him down to the ground. He struggles against the knight who is pinning him for a moment before the knight draws a dagger from his belt and plunges it into Blue Coat's back.

I just stared, dumbfounded, at Blue Coats' now-still body, a look of surprise and pain still etched on his face. I flinch when Security steps in front of me and shouts out “Shit” as he pulls the gun from its holster. He starts to yell, "GET DOWN, GET DOWN RIGHT NOW OR I'LL SHOOT." The woman turns to him, raises her hand, palm facing up, and light gathers in her hand like water. Security and I stare at it. He hesitates and lowers his gun, clearly not knowing what to do, before the light shivers and shoots out at him. He holds his hand up to block the light, and I see it pass through him, leaving a burning hole in his chest. He turns to me and looks me in the eyes, breaking his gaze from the stump where his hand used to be. He tries to say something before dropping his gun and collapsing next to me, unmoving.

I begin to hyperventilate as I watch his blood begin to pool out around his wounds. This can't be real, right? I'm just hallucinating on top of the bridge after getting struck, right? Shakily, I raise my hand and touch his faintly steaming stump. I gasp and pull back as I feel the warmth and wetness of his skin. I try to scurry back away from his corpse, but after a few feet, I slam my back into something. I turn quickly to see what's behind me and find nothing between me and the dozen feet before the wall. My breathing becomes faster and more shallow as I reach out and hit an invisible wall. I look down and notice some kind of script inlay in the marble flooring, glowing faintly blue.

"Compromise, hesitation, and cowardice—not a single one of this lot is Hero material." I turn towards the noise and flinch away from the woman and her guards, who are not 5 feet away from me. "Oh well, maybe we can still use this one for something." It's too hideous to be a maid, so maybe kitchen staff? "Or somewhere else where nobody will have to look at it," she muses aloud as she pulls a golden collar from a bag on one of the guards. "Come here, put this on, and I won't hurt you," she beckons with a wicked grin.

I try to scramble to my feet and run along the inlay, but one of the knights stomps hard on my calf before I get all the way up, which causes me to stumble and gasp out in pain. He grabs me by the shoulder and pulls my back to him before breathing something in my ear in German. I whimper and shrink away from him, attempting to conceal my other hand. He snarls and yells something before spinning me around, so I take the chance and flip out the razor in my hand and try to swipe it hard through his throat.

His blood sprays out, hitting me in the eyes; halfway through, the razor gets stuck, and I lose it. He stumbles back and lets go of me, choking and spitting more blood. He instinctively reaches for the razor as I stumble, falling back down while rubbing the blood from my eyes. "Idiot," the woman snarls as I hear the knight fall to his knees. Wiping the blood from my eyes, I watch her walk up to him and roughly pull the razor from his throat, revealing a jagged, grisly wound. She fills her hand with light again and runs it over his throat, revealing instead of a gaping wound a healed blood-drenched scar. The knight glares with pure, cold hate at me and rights himself. I back up as far as I can before hitting the barrier again. "Stupid thing, you should have listened," the woman mocks as he slowly begins approaching me.

He only gets a few steps closer before all of a sudden, the air begins to feel charged and heavy. I look back towards the inlay as the script suddenly starts glowing with a stronger blue light. The woman begins to speak, surprise evident on her face but is interrupted by a low hum that permeates the room. A purple doorway cuts itself out of the air in between us and out steps a man in a long, ratty, dark blue coat.

Messy dark brown bangs curl down into bored, nearly pitch-black eyes that meet my own. Four parallel scars run from just underneath his left eye down, through the shadow of his afternoon stubble, into and past his pursed lips. He holds an open book in his right hand, while his left is held behind him, palm out. He finishes appraising me as soon as I do him, and he turns away from me and scans the room. He looks at the two corpses and the knight closest to him for a moment before meeting the woman's gaze.

The strangeness of the last few moments and hours cause me to almost lose myself; only the small analytical voice in my head whispers to me, reading the behavior and posture of everyone in the room as if the next few moments could be avoided like a beating. All three knights have dropped the posturing of bullies and thugs, adopting instead the grim determination of soldiers who know they are about to die. For a brief moment, the woman shrinks into herself before clutching an emblem of a full, burning sun around her neck and putting on a false confidence.

The man himself stands like a statue, betraying almost nothing at all; his shoulders are slightly hunched and his head is slightly lowered, but it is not the behavior of a cowed man; it is the behavior of a man fully aware of what he faced and who regarded it as just another dull chore to be muddled through.

The knights drew their weapons and formed up in front of the woman, who had turned, stone-faced, towards the man. She greets him simply with "Alberich." He greets her back with a bored "Morganna." "I have to say," she remarks, "I didn't expect to see you here today; how did you even get here using our divine circle?" Alberich considers for a moment, and I realize that this is not a man but a monster pretending to be a man, as he just shrugs.

He glances back at me and steps between the knight and me before speaking in German and sweeping his arm out at the two bodies, prompting the knights to tense up and the woman to flinch at his movement. The woman sneers, "What we're doing here is Empire business, not yours." ”Return to wherever you appeared from, and this won't be a problem." to her credit only a slight tremor can be heard in her voice "No please!" I cry out, shocking myself partially out of my stupor, which causes him to half turn back towards me.

The moment he does, the woman makes a gesture like she's throwing something, and a small, ping-pong ball-sized ball of fire starts flying out at him. "No! Watch out!" I scream, but to no effect, as he's already turned back and gestured with his free hand. A circle of red symbols appears to be floating around his wrist and flies toward the ball of fire. The circle passes around it, and the fire vanishes completely. The woman’s “tch” causes the knights to all then move to intercept.

He reaches across himself and grabs at the air as the first knight stabs out at him. He backsteps, avoiding the strike, and draws his arm back, trailing electricity, and points his first and middle fingers right at the knight's face. *CRACK* Lightning jumps out of his fingers, splitting the knight's head, and follows his fingers as he directs it like a conductor directs an orchestra, sideways through the next knight. The third dives, attempting to dodge, but Alberich just points down, and the lightning hits him in the back. I stare at the three knights, who were terrifying murderers just moments before but are now smoking corpses as powerless against Alberich as I was against them. Everything that's happened catches up to me all at once: the wedding, running away, everything on the bridge, accepting my death, not dying, and witnessing victims' and their murderers' lives thrown away like they're nothing. I curl into a ball, grasping my head with both hands, and start sobbing and shaking. I lose myself in my despair and fatigue.

I'm so engrossed with my self-pity that I barely notice the sound of yelling voices followed quickly by the sound of shuffling feet, a feminine gasp of surprise, and something hitting stone hard. The sound of a door slamming shut and locking jolts me out of my shaking, but I remain curled up, waiting for whatever comes next. Soft footfalls approach me, and a male voice speaks to me softly in German from just a few feet away. For a few moments, nothing happens when I feel a light touch on my shoulder. I react immediately, flinching away from the hand and looking up to find the lightning-wielding man, Alberich, slowly stepping back with both hands held out, trying to placate me. I notice his book is now floating over his shoulder, open, and facing me as if looking at me.

My attention is drawn back to him when he tries speaking to me again, his voice much lower and softer, like he's trying to calm a frightened cat. “I—I can’t understand you.” He frowns and straightens himself before looking to my right. My eyes follow his, and I see the woman crumpled and broken against the wall a few feet from me, with the marble behind her cracked and splintered. He walks over to her and crouches, reaching for his book.

He flips through a few pages and settles on one before reaching for the golden band around her arm. He touches it, and a soft purple light glows softly from his eyes. Nodding, he reaches for a clasp on the band and undoes it. He twists it around and examines it before, all of a sudden, her arm, directly below where the band was, turns black and falls to the ground. He pauses, both eyebrows shooting straight up in the only emotion he's shown, all fight, and immediately drops the band while taking a step back.

Flipping a few more pages in his book, he settles on a new page and crouches back down near the band. He draws a circle around the band with his finger, and his eyes glow again for a moment. He sighs and grimaces before lifting the band, then hesitates for just a moment before fixing it around his arm. He then turns to me and asks, with a slight German accent, “Are you okay?” The surprise and mundanity of the sentence cause every stress from the night to crash down on me, and I lose consciousness.