Sibling gods stood in their heavenly domain overseeing the world’s latest World Walker. Time froze as they watched Luka’s magic in action, both critiquing the ins and outs of how his “fabrication magic” worked.

“Oddly enough, Tutiantian’s Law doesn’t apply to his magic,” God Rion said, flipping through a tome twice his size, studying the ancient law. “I think that means most, if not all, of modern-day magic theory needs to be reevaluated.” He snapped the book close. “Neb’s going to kill us.”

Goddess Tippy rolled her eyes, slowly allowing time to rekindle. Luka sat on his butt, inching himself down the slide.

“I’m sure Neb’s known about the issue—he tutored Tutiantian personally, remember?”

“Did he? Why didn’t he correct such a blatant error?”

“Who’d have thought one of ‘us’ would give a mortal fabrication magic?”

Rion regarded his sister. “You did. After you spouted off about world-stagnation.”

“And I’d do it again.”

He turned away, finding the human in question skid across a waterfall and into the lake. “And I’m glad you’re still committed. I think you’ll have to add more limitations to his magic, however. Less we want the others to notice too soon.”

Tippy reversed time, highlighting the orc, Eve, carving a glyph. Quietly, she said, “I’m not adding or removing anything. His magic is the way I want it.”

“You’ll have to make concessions somewhere. Even as a good engineer, he’s going to mess something up sooner or later. Safeguarding now will help in the long run.”

She reversed a bit further, finding the child dryad, Nicole, holding a broken doll. She let time play until Luka fixed it, freezing it on the girl’s smile.

“Nope. I’m not changing how his magic works. I’ll just bless the children. Can’t have any of them drowning on us.” Goddess Tippy’s eyes glowed bright white. “And done.”

Rion crossed his arms. “That’s a lot of blessings. What about in the future? Surely Luka’s not only going to fabricate stuff for the children.”

“I… I have some favors I can call in. I’ll have Sonyettia teach me to bless areas, not just people.”

“Just a band aid fix. But still, I’m glad you’re such a good goddess.”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to flatter me. I’m still mad at you from the last time.”

God Rion snorted, a puff of flames bursting from his nostrils. “That was nearly six centuries ago. I’m sorry, okay?”

She smacked her lips, the sound echoing throughout the heavens. “Apology accepted, not that I remember what exactly you did. And yes, I know it’s a short term fix. I think I’m going to be fixing leaks for a while with him, so anything is worth pursuing.”

Flexing his wrist, Rion cast a spell on time-frozen Luka, expanding the mortal’s mind. Around, personal memories of Earth materialized, along with Luka’s thoughts. Various types of glues surrounded the gods, along with wood-sanding techniques.

But, in the distance, a door made of golden-white chains loomed. Dark mist spilled from the gaps, and dangerous memories bounded around inside, bulging at the seams. They were Luka’s sealed memories, the life experiences that drove him to a drunken grave.

“His darkness wants out,” Rion said, staring at the door. “And your seal doesn’t look strong enough.”

“I’ve never been the best at sealing magic,” she said. “Maybe I can call in another favor to get lessons in that as well.”

The god bit his lip. “Soon rather than later, it's going to crack open. Are you prepared for that?”

If Tippy’s divine body could breathe, she’d have taken a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about that. If he comes to one of my shrines, I might just unseal them for him. He’ll have to ask, however. I won’t do it without his input.”

“And if the memories kill him?”

“Let’s just hope he creates a good enough foundation for himself in Emberwood. He’s already made a few friends.”

“We could always pull him from oblivion again.”

Tippy threw out an arm, banishing Luka’s materialized brain. “No. If he dies, he dies. I’m not sadistic enough to force him to live a third life.”

Rion sighed. “Let’s hope things don’t come to that.”

“Indeed.”

***

Bubbles poured from Luka’s nose, flipping and streaming straight up. He waved his arms circularly, keeping his tired body under the crisp cool lake water. With his eyes open, he looked up at the surface of the water, finding the sun’s golden shimmering light breaking through the rough waves of his splash.

What did Eve say about World Walkers? That they often had panic attacks their first days in this world?

He tasted the water. It was earthy, a slight mineral taste, like the rocks he’d stick in his mouth as a kid. So much had happened in the short time he’d been in this world. A goddess, reincarnation, orcs, dire-wolves… magic. Luka knew he was present for all of it, but was he really? Stuff was happening to him and he’d hardly questioned it.

Maybe he was in a coma or lying in a hospital bed with a deadly fever.

But then again, maybe not.

He sipped the water again—yep, still minerally.

It hung in his mind, his indifference. His memories were gone, the important ones, at least. Just who was he? Why did the goddess feel the need to seal them away? What could be so bad that she didn’t trust him with them? He was in a new world, and yet, his thoughts kept that from him.

What a miserable existence, he thought, his eyes dropping from the golden light peeking through the waves to the darkness at the bottom of the lake. It’d be easy to just sink. Too easy. He tasted the water again, drawing a bit more into his mouth—into his lungs.

Nicole, the little dryad, came to mind and her bounding cluster of orphan friends. He hoped the slide would ease some of their pain, at least temporarily. He could create more things for them, more happiness.

But for that, he’d need to breathe. A hitch stumbled through his chest—the lack of air. He flailed, pushing himself to the golden light above the water.

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

He couldn’t do anything about the kids’ parents, so what could he do? Better living conditions? He didn’t even know what their houses looked like. Maybe games? Entertainment? No electricity meant no video games, a shame Luka thought. Maybe he could just steal Earth’s most popular; chess, go, shogi. What was popular with kids on Earth?

The question didn’t stir anything in his memories. Did he have kids? Were there little Lukas stumbling around without their father?

He breached the water, sucking in a rough breath and spitting out a wet cough. He couldn’t remember, was there something he could do about that? The sight of the kids watching him surface pulled his thoughts back to them.

What else was there? A playland, gym equipment, balls of various sorts. They seemed pretty hyper, maybe a place to extrude some excess energy… Sure. That was a good idea, right? He could do that. And with magic, he could make it awesome—a place they could go for years. Maybe he could even convince Eve to hook up some water glyphs and make a splash pad…

A splash pad, really? He tossed out that idea, but not after following it.

A water park. Slides, pools, wave generators. What else? Diving boards, trampolines? Trampoline parks? Bouncy stuff. Those were always fun, right? Maybe something that spins? Hell, maybe even a rollercoaster.

A howl broke his trance.

Looking up the slide, Luka found Leo the almost adult puppy dire-wolf with his nose in the air. The wolf then sniffed the slide, stepping a single paw into the water gushing from the water glyph. He found Luka treading water, and fully stepped onto the slide. The slick polished stone pushed the beast past the point of no return, throwing him down the causeway.

Luka’s eyes went wide and he dove down, kicking his feet to out run the hulking wolf hurtling toward him. Leo splashed on top of him with the deafening boom of a belly flop and a miniature tsunami wave. Bubbles split the cool water as Leo peddled his way to the surface, where he sat treading, his fur waterlogged.

Surfacing beside the beast, Luka found the wolf’s lips curled back smugly. Leo barked, quick and prideful. Somehow, despite only knowing him for an hour, Luka understood exactly what Leo said.

“See? I can do it too!”

Luka patted him. “I never doubted you.”

Content with that, they paddled to shore—at least, until a bumbling screech sounded from up the cliff. At the top of the slide, Olive the dire-emu stuck her long spindly legs into the rushing water, dipping over the point of no return. The current took her, dropping her down the wavy slide as she flailed her flightless wings. Squawking with panic, she crashed into the lake, her feather tripling in weight from water.

Then, like something out of a show Luka would watch as a child, Olive climbed out of the water, and sprinted to shore, shaking her feathers as she did.

“How—”

Leo barked, the message coming across. “Magic.”

Spotting a soft glow from Olive’s saddle, Luka identified a script language highlighted in silvery-blue radiance. Maybe another glyph of some sort? Maybe an enchantment?

Getting back on dry land, Leo shook-out his coat—directly onto Luka. Covering his face, the World Walker spotted Franky quietly whispering to Sebby not to go down the slide. Sebby didn’t listen, and threw himself down the stonework.

Tram’s voice cut through the splash. “Remember when I mentioned how miserable my life is watching these brats? I think you just doubled it.”

Luka paused, wringing out his shirt to look at her. “It’s okay, I can help. Not like I have anything better to do.”

The hardened façade Tram wore broke apart like ice on the first day of spring. “That’s some creation you just magicked.”

“Can we try!?” one of the kids, a brave one, asked.

With stubby legs and a five o’clock shadow, Luka recognized him as a young dwarf. And while surprising to see a kid with facial hair, Luka was more surprised that the question was directed at him.

“Sure,” he said slowly, glancing at Tram who subtly nodded. “But there’s going to be some ground rules.”

“I like ground rules,” the dwarven kids said.

Then as if they were one and the same, the kids’ eyes slowly opened wider and wider, waiting for the World Walker’s decree.

“You can only slide when an adult is present. Only one can slide at a time, and you have to make sure the person in front of you is out of the way and has swam away before going down.” That was it right? He looked to the others for help, receiving nothing. “And no fighting.”

Mechanically, Tram smiled. “And if you break any of these rules, then I get to find a punishment chore for you!”

A few of the kids broke off, sprinting to the top of the slide. The rest waited for more rules.

“And no running near the water!”

The runners slowed, speed walking as fast as their little legs could handle. Everyone else, including the adults, followed.

Luka asked Eve, “Think you can add a few more of those glyphs? I’m worried about friction burns as the polish wears.”

“Sure,” she answered, “but I could also teach them to you. Anyone can draw a glyph.”

That got him thinking. “How do they work?”

“They pull from the area around it. Here, by the lake and with the humidity, there will always be enough. But out in a desert, you’d have to pray to a god while making the inscriptions. Localized humidity is a very common blessing in some places.”

Luka fell victim to his own thoughts. Magic was strange. So were the gods.

Franky then asked, “What’re you going to do next?”

“What do you mean?”

“First you fixed a toy, then you built something amazing. What’s next?”

“’Amazing?’” Luka asked, finding Eve nodding to her brother’s words. “It’s just a slide.”

Franky shook his head violently. “No, no it’s not. Maybe to you it’s ‘just a slide.’ But I’ve never seen anything like it, ever. Especially with how you sheared away the stone. Maybe Mayor Tram’s seen something similar, since she’s so you old—”

A cranky voice cut him off from a few steps ahead. “I can hear you, you runt!”

Continuing as if he didn’t hear her, Franky said, “So, what are you going to build next? World Walkers are always a source of something.”

“Something?” Luka asked.

“Culture, entertainment, fashion, science,” Eve supplied. “Stuff for the rest of the world to build on.”

“You called yourself an engineer, and the only engineers I know of are from the gnomish universities. Are you going to revolutionize arcspanners and arcanatechnoradiators?”

Luka shrugged. “Don’t know what either of those are.”

The siblings looked at him expectantly.

Sighing, he asked “What kind of motors are used in this world? Maybe I could make a quick mockup of a combustion engine and the basics of batteries and electricity.”

Eve bit her lip. “We have all of that here. Again, the gnomes are our world’s pioneering engineers. They powered autonomous golems with only battery and combustion glyphs years ago. I think they’re working on pocket dimension glyphs nowadays—not that we get much news out here.”

Luka made a face. “See what I mean? I’m in engineering, but I don’t have a clue how magic ties into any of it. Unless I’m missing something crucial, I don’t think I’m going to be making any waves anytime soon.”

Franky said something cheery about the situation, but everyone went silent after. They watched the kids take turns sliding, a few almost landing on top of each other in the water—Tram marked them down for punishment chores.

Luka thought back to his ideas for helping-out with the kids. “Are there rotational movement glyphs?”

Eve nodded. “And vertical and horizontal, yes.”

“Can they move large, heavy… things?”

“There’s amplification glyphs. Unless you’re trying to rotate a mountain—which takes an entire team of glyphcrafters and some specialized enchantments to do—you’ll be fine.” She waited a moment before asking, “Why? Got an idea?”

Luka spotted Franky watching him from his peripheral vision. “Maybe. But I’d need to explore more about magic and what’s possible before I take anything on.”

The bald orc’s face split with a smile, his shiny white teeth on full display. “Then let’s get going—

“Oh no you’re not!” Tram interrupted, yelling over the screams of a kid as she plummeted down the slide. “You three are helping me watch these kids until they get bored of this slide thing! I will not be dealing with this alone today!”

Luka found dozens of eyes watching him. He gave the kids a smile. “Fine with me. It’d give my clothes—and Leo’s fur—enough time to dry off.”

Hearing his name, Leo barked. Not hearing his name, Sebby barked.

“And Sebby,” he added.

The dire-wolf preened.

A hollow bang rang out—Olive pecked a tree, her eyes locked onto a squirrel hiding for dear life within the leaves.

“Get away from it!” Eve yelled, stomping over. “We do not peck squirrels!”