“Where are you?” The voice is unfamiliar. A man. I see nothing, but the voice comes from all around me.
“If I find you, I’m gonna take one of your eyes out. I swear to god. I’m sick of your games!”
Why? What does this man want from me? I can’t move. I don’t have a physical form. I feel as though I’m hanging in a vast nothingness. I’m reminded of that soul ‘place’ I’d spoken to Olexandrya’s soul in.
Am I asleep? Is this some sort of dream?
The world bleeds into view around me. Yellow light that doesn’t come from the sun. It comes from a piece of glass on the ceiling. A pair of small hands rest on the wooden floor beneath me. I raise my head, scanning a small, cluttered room.
This isn’t me. I’m not in control. I’m witnessing an experience. Through someone’s eyes. It must be Olexandrya.
A door opens, and a beam of brilliant white light strikes me. I glimpse a dark figure before she screams and turns away from it.
“Alexandria!” the man yells. “Come here!”
And that’s it. I wake up in bed, staring at the dark ceiling. The moon is visible through the window, slowly drifting across the sky.
Olexandrya is kneeling beside the bed. Her eyes are boring into the side of my head. I can never wake in peace around these people.
What was that? A memory of her strange world?
My stomach twists over itself.
“Aerida,” she says. “You awake?”
“I am now,” I say. “What do you want?”
“When was the last time you ate?”
That’s a question I hadn’t expected. And it’s one I don’t have an answer for. I raise my messed-up arm, feeling the joint shift. My elbow is discolored; purple and black splotches are gathered around it.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Well, will you eat something?” She asks.
I look over at her.
“What does it matter to you?”
“It hurts,” she groans. “My stomach. You’re starving and it’s killing me.”
I stare at her.
“Some hero,” I say. “Can’t bear a little hunger?”
She laughs.
“You starve yourself often?”
I sit up slowly, and my hair falls into my face.
“Tell me something,” I say, pushing my hair back. “How much do you know about souls exactly?”
Olexandrya straightens.
“Not much,” she admits. “I don’t exactly have a manual on the stuff. I just kind’ve figured out how to move my soul and… split it, obviously.”
“It’s unusual,” I say. “For a human to be so attuned to souls. Usually you only see that sort of thing in demons. Even then, the skill gap is absurd.”
She purses her lips and rests her head on the bed.
“I told you. It’s because I’m from another world. A world completely different from this one.”
I narrow my eyes and lean towards her. I think of what I saw back then, when I was impaled on the Soul Cleaver. And what I’d just seen.
“What sort of world?”
Olexandrya raises her head, meeting my eyes.
“What?”
“What sort of world does the great Olexandrya hail from?” I ask dryly.
“Don’t call me that,” she replies, scrunching her nose. “But… do you actually want to know?”
I look past her at Rakel, and Pepper sprawled on the other bed. Then, I meet her eyes again.
“Did I not ask?”
Olexandrya’s eyes light up and a smile cracks open on her face.
“Where do I start?”
It isn’t long before I regret asking. Olexandrya speaks about moving pictures and calls that reach ‘around the world.’ I find myself scratching one of my horns out of boredom while she rambles on about a game she played that gave her trouble.
The faint glow of the sun is spilling over the sky at this point.
“If it was so troublesome,” I say. “Why didn’t you stop?”
“Because I liked it,” she says. “And it was the only game I had.”
“You can make a game out of anything,” I say. “Watch.” I hold out a hand.
Olexandrya stares at my hand.
“Touch my hand,” I say after a moment.
She reaches over, but I yank my hand away before she touches it.
“I win.” I wave my hand at her. “Your turn.”
“Oh. So you have to try to touch my hand? I’ve heard of this.” She sticks her hand out.
I promptly jut my foot out, kicking her hand away.
“I touched it, so I win.” I plop down on the bed, satisfied.
“You’re supposed to use your hand,” Olexandrya says with a huff. “Anyway, that’s not what I mean when I say game,” she says. “Video games are different.”
“A game is a game.”
“No. A video game would be more like… hey, you’re hungry, right?”
I stare at the ceiling, ignoring my stomach trying to tear itself apart.
Olexandrya stands.
“Why don’t you and I go hunting?” She asks. “Then we can surprise those two with some breakfast.”
I let out a slow breath.
“I could eat.”
I get up while Olexandrya changes clothes. She puts on a tight tunic and trousers. She seems to have no problem showing her naked form off to me.
I fiddle with the hem of my skirt with my good arm. A part of it got torn at some point. Now its uneven.
I think about my master’s words while Olexandrya fastens the belt of her trousers.
“You ready?” Olexandrya asks.
I stand and instantly sink to my knees. I stare at my folded legs for a moment before looking up at her.
“I suppose not.”
Something in my chest shifts. I’m taken back to the hole I felt when I’d cast that first-class spell. The spasms in my limbs. Has something broken? I can feel my legs. They work, but they’re weak. Hopefully, this won’t be permanent.
Olexandrya walks up to me and chucks me over her shoulder like a sack of fruit.
“I’m not actually that hungry,” I mumble.
Olexandrya ignores me.
I watch the room, the hallway, the building, the street, and eventually the village itself recede behind Olexandrya as she marches us out into the woods.
“I have a question.” I decide to speak up while Olexandrya comes upon a river. I watch a flock of birds gather in a tree.
“What’s that?” Olexandrya asks, looking around.
“Rakel doesn’t know how to compress mana,” I say. “In fact, I don’t think she can manipulate her mana at all. Pepper seems to be a bit more refined. I can’t imagine she’d be so incompetent. But what about you?”
“Compress my mana?” Olexandrya sounds confused. “What does that mean?”
I prop an elbow against her firm back.
“If I could walk, I would show you,” I say. “Well… watch.” I raise a hand towards the gathered birds and wait for Olexandrya to turn her head.
I gather mana and spread it out like a gust through the tree. Leaves rustle and the birds scatter.
“Huh?” Olexandrya turns her entire body towards the tree. “How did you do that?”
“My mana,” I say incredulously. “I feel like this is basic stuff. What sort of hero are you?”
“I’ve never seen anything like that. You’re using your mana like wind or something. That’s not basic, are you insane? You can just direct it? With your hand?”
“Yes…” I consider that. Is it really that impressive? It came easily to me. Could it be because my mana is sourced from my soul that I have an easier time manipulating it so precisely?
“What does compressing mean, for this?” Olexandrya asks. “Gathering it?”
“Sort of. I use it to boost me. I can compress it at my feet and launch myself. I’ve also used it to cushion attacks, but I have to time it right.”
Olexandrya pulls on me. I don’t bother resisting as I come down into her arms. Her eyes are sharp, and she has a strange smile on her face.
“Can you teach me?” She asks. “I know something about compression myself.”
I squint at her
“No. I’m still your enemy,” I snap. “Why would I help you get stronger?”
Olexandrya rolls her eyes. She raises her head, looking up the river.
A buck has emerged from the brush and approached the water.
Olexandrya drops to her knees, setting me on the bank. My legs fold beneath me.
“Watch,” she says. “I suppose it’s my turn to show off.”
I fold my hands in my lap and do as I’m told. I realize that Olexandrya hasn’t brought a weapon of any kind. Does she plan to kindly ask the buck to be her lunch?
Olexandrya takes a step towards the buck, then another.
The buck raises his head. His black eyes meet Olexandrya’s. It’s over. I’m sure of it. The buck will run.
But Olexandrya keeps walking, and the buck doesn’t move. Is it not afraid? Are bucks not hunted in these lands?
The wind picks up, and leaves fall from above.
Olexandrya reaches the buck and slowly extends her hand. She closes the hand, aiming a single finger at the buck. Her voice is so quiet that I almost miss what she says.
“Heaven Ascent: Storming Wake Of True Murder.”
I don’t have time to react. There’s nothing to react to. Just a spike of mana; sharp like a blade drawn and sheathed in an instant.
A fist-sized hole opens in the buck’s torso. Its head turns and the mouth drops open, but no sound comes out. Its body just crumples, sinking under its own weight.
Olexandrya drops, catching the body and hoisting it over her shoulder. Her face is pale, and she’s drenched with sweat.
“What…” I mumble as she returns. “What was that?”
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she pants. “That took a lot out of me. But I wanted to show off like you did.”
“What did you do?” I demand. “How did you do it?”
“Oh, yeah. My Heaven Ascent is basically an endless stream of gunfire. If I let it loose full out, everything around me gets destroyed. So I’ve learned to compress it to a single point.”
I stare. Compress a Heaven Ascent? That’s absurd. I at least know what gunfire is. She explained that it was like fire people could wield in her world.
But the buck didn’t look like it had been struck by fire. It looked like something had punched a hole in it.
Olexandrya offers me her hand. Blood oozes down her side from the buck’s gaping wound.
“Ready?” she asks.
“You’re going to carry me and that thing?”
She shrugs.
I picture it in my head. Olexandrya sauntering back into town with the dead buck slung over one shoulder and me over the other. I didn’t mind the first time, but something about seeing the buck get the same treatment soils it for me.
“I’ll just stay here,” I grumble. “I’d rather you drag me.”
“Alright.” Olexandrya leans over and grabs my ankle.
I yelp as I’m yanked flat onto my back. I don’t complain as she starts dragging me towards the village. I brought this on myself.