I wake to cold. Sunlight is filtered through the roof of a tent. I groan, finding myself on the ground. A thin blanket is my only cover. My pink hair is settled on my face, cutting up my view. Not having clothes is strange. I feel smaller than I’m used to.
A woman is sitting next to me, staring straight ahead. She has curly purple hair and dark robes. She’s touching my head, fiddling with one of my horns.
Beyond her, I recognize the hero bundled under blankets.a
“She’s alive,” the purple woman says, setting her black eyes on me. “She’s just tired.”
I reach for my hip, finding no sheath. I’m unarmed.
I recognize the purple woman as the hero’s healer. I’ve never seen her outright fighting, but she’s always been there on the front lines. I may be able to overpower her.
But. The more pressing question. Why am I alive? I felt my soul come undone. I felt the brink of nothingness.
What’s this strange heat burning in my chest? This beating heart?
“Where is the demon lord?” The purple woman asks.
“She won’t tell you anything,” a new voice speaks up. A black-haired woman appears from thin air just beyond my feet. She’s wearing leather armor and her hair is tied up on her head. “We ought to kill her. Why would Drya save her? Especially when…” her face tightens as she looks upon the hero.
Drya? Is that the hero’s name? What had she done?
“Drya wouldn’t have saved her for nothing,” the purple woman says. “She must be on our side now. Why else would Drya—”
I throw the covers away and plant my foot in her face.
“I am not on your side!” I hiss, knocking the purple woman to the ground. She squeals as she lands.
The other woman lunges. I’m instantly aware that she’s twice my height. She catches me by the face and shoving me to the ground. I plant both feet against her chest and push hard to no avail.
I’m too small.
I clap my hands together.
“Carnal Haze!”
The woman flinches, but nothing happens. I don’t even feel the flow of mana within me. What has that hero done to me?
I have to find my master. What happened? Why are the hero’s women still alive? Did we lose? Will he stage an attack to save me?
“Don’t kill her!”
I’m staring into a swirling ball of green energy. It blazes in the woman’s hand, heat tickling my skin.
The purple woman gets up, waving her arms.
“Don’t kill her!” she yells again. “Rakel, please! Drya wouldn’t want this!”
I glare up at the woman—Rakel, apparently.
“Why do you fight the demon lord?” I ask, refusing to flinch away from her magic. I’m well aware of how powerful it is. Touching it would likely kill me.
“The demon lord is evil,” Rakel spits. “You are evil.” Her magic peters out, vanishing into a puff of brown smoke.
I narrow my eyes.
The hero sits up, stretching her muscular arms high above her head. Both women stare at her as she yawns. She’s wearing a loose white tunic that exposes a lot of her neck and chest. A jagged scar travels from her collarbone and disappears into the tunic.
“Shit,” the hero grumbles, scratching at her neck. “I’m beat.”
“You have a lot of explaining to do!” Rakel yells. “What the hells is going on, Drya?”
“Yeah!” the purple woman pipes up. “Why did you save the demon lord’s right hand? I know she’s not exactly strong or anything, but she’s evil!”
The hero’s eyes land on me and I’m suddenly aware of just how exposed I am. But I don’t cover myself. I won’t let her see the fear boiling in my chest. I glare up at her.
“You guys couldn’t have gotten her some clothes or something?” the hero asks, standing. She pulls the loose tunic over her head, revealing a thick strip of cloth over her breasts and a scar that stretches from her collarbone to her heavy stomach.
“Why would we?” Rakel snaps.
The hero steps past Rakel and kneels, holding the tunic out to me.
“Here. Take it.”
“What have you done?” I hiss and swat at her tunic. It falls to the ground. “Where is my master?”
The hero’s expression softens.
“Your master?” The purple woman asks. “You tell us.”
“He wasn’t at the palace,” Rakel chimes in. “Just you.”
What happened to the plan? Did he retreat? Were they stronger than he accounted for?
“He abandoned you,” the hero says, picking up the tunic. “He left you to stall me and ran away. That’s where your master is.”
“No.” The word gurgles in my throat. “He must be planning something. You are naïve if you think my master would simply run away.”
“You think he’s planning to save you?” The purple woman asks. “That’s great. We can just wait for him, then.”
“No. I am disposable. But my master is a genius. His mind operates at levels you slime cannot possibly comprehend!”
The hero massages her temple.
“Will you at least put some clothes on?” She asks. “If you do, I’ll tell you how I saved you.”
I look from the tunic to her face. Then I raise my hand, palm out at her face.
There’s something within me. Something like a soul. But it isn’t right. It isn’t the same. But if it’s there. It’ll burn all the same. I just have to familiarize myself with this new ‘soul.’
I take a heavy breath, drawing on everything I have.
The hero’s eyes widen. She’s caught on.
“Hey, quit that!” She catches my hand.
“What’s she doing?” Rakel demands. “Drya?”
“You can’t win,” the hero says, holding my gaze. “Your soul is frail… well.. my soul.”
It all clicks at once. I yank my hand away from her and stare at it. A shudder washes over me.
“What did you say?” I demand. “Hero?”
“I split my soul,” the hero says. “And forced a fragment of it into you to keep your body intact.”
“What?” the purple woman shrieks. “Why—How—For her?”
“I come from another world,” the hero goes on, ignoring the purple woman. She sets the tunic on my lap. “My soul was brought to this world when I died there. That’s why I’m able to feel souls so well and able to manipulate my own.”
I raise a trembling hand to my chest, dragging the fingers along cold flesh.
“I don’t really get how it works myself,” the hero says. “Maybe we’re connected now? I know I feel weaker, that’s for sure…”
“You have stained me,” I breathe. “You’ve desecrated my master’s body.”
I have to do it again. I have to cast the Heaven Ascent again. This is perfect. I will die and burn the hero’s soul along with me.
“Do you think you can fight?” The purple woman asks.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“You still haven’t answered the more important question!” Rakel snaps. “Why did you do it?”
I stand, letting the tunic fall again to the floor. All eyes follow me.
“I’m going to kill all of you,” I say.
The hero blinks.
“Huh?”
This is still unfamiliar to me. But knowing that my body houses a fragmented soul allows me to get a handle on what exactly is happening.
There is still mana. It’s as if it’s moving through me differently than my own mana would. That’s why I thought there was nothing. But now, I can use it.
I gather mana at my feet. The blankets and the tunic ripple on the ground.
“Drya!” Rakel calls, taking a step toward us.
But I’m faster. I lunge, planting both hands in Drya’s exposed stomach. At the same time, I redirect all of that mana from my feet to my palms.
The hero is repelled through the tent, and the entire structure is ripped up around us, revealing a gray sky above.
We’re in some kind of camp. There are others like the one I destroyed scattered about. Women are at work, hanging laundry, training, cooking.
I can’t manipulate the mana precisely enough to cast a spell. It’s too foreign to me. But at the same time, it feels more volatile.
As Rakel charges, this time I’m ready. There’s a faint pain in my gut, but I push through.
I evade her first swing and block her advance by hitting her with a full blast of raw mana.
She’s stopped mid step and knocked off her feet.
I whirl around, targeting the purple woman next. But Rakel appears between us, hurling a sheet over my head.
I process the obstruction for a moment before a blow lands at my side.
I fold around the fist, grabbing onto the arm through the sheet as I’m lifted off my feet.
Mana swirls within me. Force it into focus. Force it into shape.
“Heaven Ascent—” another blow to my face. I land hard on my back, shrouded in the sheet. But the mana responded. I felt it. This is just like when I was first learning to move my mana. I just have to relearn it.
I roll to the side, tearing the sheet open. Rakel and a new woman are charging. The other woman wields a staff and has similar armor to Rakel.
“Restrain her!” The woman barks.
“I’ll kill her!” Rakel snaps. “Why’s she so strong?”
“It must be Drya’s soul!” The purple woman calls, cradling a seemingly unconscious hero. The sight gives me pause. Had I incapacitated the hero so easily?
I curl up, avoiding Rakel’s stomp. In a breath, I’m up and moving mana. If I can move it, I can manipulate it. Burn it. Bring my soul to life.
Rakel drives her knee into my gut. Again, I curl around her limb and cling. This time, I plant my hand against her chest.
“Carnal Haze.” A blast of golden fire blooms against Rakel’s chest. She screams and staggers back.
“Why, you!” The staff wielding woman thrusts her weapon, nailing me in the side.
I turn in the air, slamming a hand to the ground and propelling myself off it. At the same moment, the woman follows through, swinging the staff into my chest. She knocks me flat as the fire on Rakel erupts, knocking her back.
But I won’t stop. I’m getting the hang of this. Other warriors gather ahead of me. The hero is getting up, massaging her head.
Now or never. The temperature plummets. The air moves around us.
The staff woman moves to attack but pauses. She feels it.
I can do it this time. I’m sure. I raise both hands and draw them together. The mana flows faster. My blood boils within me.
“Aerida!” the hero shouts. “Don’t!”
Disappear.
“Heaven Ascent: Masked Haven of Unguarded Love.”
My mana erupts from my body like a tidal wave, swirling over the camp. Tents ripple and clothes are ripped off their lines.
But nothing happens. All at once, my body gives out and I collapse forward, landing on my face. My breaths are shallow and dry; my lungs burn.
This soul. What’s wrong with it?
“Kill her! Before the spell activates!”
“What was that?”
“That was a Heaven Ascent! She’ll kill us all!”
“No! Don’t hurt her!”
I turn my head just enough to see the hero standing over me. She has her arms raised and stands against what looks like her entire group.
“Please,” the hero says. “Trust me on this.”