After so long, he barely recognized the feel of a world before him, he simply stumbled through the door. Then the emptiness consumed him and he gloried in it, welcoming the abyss between worlds. When he fell out the other side his world spun, but it was no longer his world.

Theo dropped to the ground, digging his fingers into the grass and dirt. He didn't even know where he was, but he could feel the spirit of the Nine Worlds in the air itself. His hands clawed at the alien earth, as if he could draw all of it into himself.

He wept. Forty long, miserable years, constantly haunted by the memories of another reality. The final moments of his friends never returned to him in nightmares, as if they had no place on Earth, but he called them to mind until the memory was so worn he could barely remember their faces. All that remained was the pain and trauma, the sense of betrayal, and the final separation. Everything else in his life had been nothing but a cheap replacement for what he had lost.

Finally Theo took a deep breath and drew himself up, tears drying. If this entrance was like the last, Vistgil would soon be arriving, and that would be fatal. But he'd thought about this moment for his entire life and made plans for any contingency.

Judging from the vast orange sun shining warmly overhead, he had arrived in Tatian. That was a good start. Tatian was a boring world, but it was mostly harmless. Had he arrived in Ichil or Arbai he might have died before he could even begin, and an unfamiliar world like Slest would have offered him no advantages. Unless he was immediately killed, he could work with this.

Fields of amber spread in all directions, split only by dirt roads and the occasional fence of living stone. He stood within a grove of trees, heavy with sweet fruits. That could describe nearly anywhere on Tatian, so it didn't narrow much down. What mattered was finding some sort of cover in case he was being tracked.

Though the spiritual reality of his surroundings overwhelmed him at first, as he left the clearing, Theo took inventory of himself. Strangely, his body was young again, as if it was the same age as the last time he had been in the Nine. Yet when he tried to examine his soul, he found nothing - he wasn't even capable of seeing his soulhome, as if he wasn't a soulcrafter.

That wasn't shocking: after having his soul wrenched between worlds twice, it would have been surprising if his old strength had remained. Besides, he'd been thinking about how he wanted to rebuild for years. It might be a long time before he became a Stronghold again, but when he did, he would be far superior to his past self.

Branches snapped to his left and he whirled, obsolete instincts trying to use power he no longer possessed. But what he saw wasn't Vistgil or some demon, but an ordinary man who appeared to be from Deuxan. When Theo saw the silver hair and ivory skin, for a painful moment he thought of Brigana, but they looked nothing alike other than their home world.

"What... what is happening?" the man asked, staring at him as if astonished. The words were composed of sounds that meant nothing to Theo, yet in his mind he heard the pure meaning as if it was his native language. Though the man might not realize it, he was no longer speaking a Deuxan tongue, but instead local Tatian. The wonder of the old sensation made Theo hesitate in his answer, then the sky cracked open not far from them.

An older woman fell through the crack before it closed, flattening some of the crops. In the glimpse he'd gotten of her, Theo thought that she might be from Fithe, though he wasn't very familiar with that world. This was more than just a door - there must have been damage to the space between worlds, to dislocate so many people.

Once, Theo would have leapt to help the old woman for its own sake. The bitter years attempting to find his way back to the Nine made kindness feel quaint, but he decided that was for the best. He headed out into the field to help her to her feet. "Are you alright?"

"W-who are you?" She flinched from him, and he wondered if the hand he offered was a threat in her world, but eventually she allowed him to help her up. "I... I was just sorting all my pots and pans for the shop, when suddenly... suddenly..."

"You've fallen a long way from home. Just rest for now." Theo gently led her to one of the fences and helped her sit against the stone. The living material was warm and softer than it looked, which seemed to calm the old woman.

As he left her there, Theo considered his next step. Though he was ready to flee at a moment's notice, he was starting to doubt that this was an ambush. When he had first come to the Nine, he had been alone and soon greeted by Vistgil. This appeared to be a major disruption between worlds that he had only stumbled upon accidentally.

His theory was confirmed over the next hour or so as more strangers either appeared through cracks in reality or stumbled toward their group from further away. Early on, a pile of rocks tumbled from the sky, soon rising and revealing itself to be one of the inhabitants of Arbai. Though the Mundhin appeared fearsome, it soon settled down calmly to wait.

Deciding that it was easiest to hide in plain sight, Theo stayed at the edges of the group, helping new arrivals remain calm. Some of them knew they were in Tatian, while others stumbled in confusion, uncertain about the very concept of other worlds. None of them had been doing anything unusual that might have opened a door, or at least that was what they claimed.

"Everyone! Please remain..." The loud voice trailed off, but it drew everyone's attention. Theo turned to see a Tatian man in brown robes standing atop a nearby hill. Like everyone native to the world, he had golden brown skin and light hair. He carried a gnarled staff of living wood, which marked him as one of their Farmguards, as well as a soulcrafter.

Fortunately, there were few selfish or violent soulcrafters on Tatian. The man stood blinking at the assembled group, as if surprised and a bit dismayed to find them so calm. But eventually he gave a broad smile and raised his voice again, the sound carrying without shouting as he filled his voice with cantae.

"It is wonderful to see that all of you are at peace. Please do not be afraid. An accident has upset the rivers that flow between worlds, casting many people into Tatian. You are not the first, and we can only hope you will be the last. We have made preparations to feed and shelter you, and in time we will find some way for you to return home."

Immediately some gave their thanks while other grumbled. The Deuxan refugees were particularly skeptical, looking for some scheme to exploit them, not understanding that this world had more than a differently colored sun. In all Theo's travels, he'd found Tatian to be a surprisingly gentle and naive world. When he'd been younger, he'd considered it bland but pleasant, whereas now it was just a bit sickening.

But useful, since the locals' first impulse would be to help the refugees free of cost. Theo could take advantage of their kindness both to hide himself and to get a head start on all his other plans. He would need to stay alert for Vistgil, but otherwise this might be an excellent beginning.

As the group of foreigners from other worlds began to buzz amongst themselves, Theo closed his eyes and tried to take in all the languages. Most of them spoke in the gentle tones of Tatian, their passage between worlds having fundamentally altered their souls' relationship to language. But several others, either multi-lingual or familiar with such travel, were speaking in their own tongues.

And Theo understood them all. As far as he had understood it in his past life, a person's understanding of language was transformed between worlds, so their original state was relevant. When he'd first visited the Nine, he had only known English, which allowed him to speak and understand the most common language in every location he visited. Since most worlds contained many languages, it had been a frequent annoyance, particularly when traveling far from an entrance gate.

There would be no such annoyances now. In his years away, Theo had learned three languages well and five more enough to hold a conversation. He'd even taught himself ancient Greek in the hope that it would translate into an ancient language in the Nine. That theory was still untested, but for the moment, he could understand every word he heard around him.

Not that they were saying much of any importance. Some wondered if a great battle could have broken open passages between worlds, while others just expressed confusion or uncertainty. A few simply grumbled about their schedule being disrupted, which he could appreciate for the pettiness if nothing else.

The local Farmguard returned with several more Tatian villagers bearing food. It was simple but nourishing, first the purple fruits that grew on every tree and then freshly baked spheres of bread. Theo devoured both, surprisingly hungry, but found himself growing impatient.

Though the wonder of returning to the Nine had carried him for a time, it was quickly ebbing away. The people around him might hail from many worlds, but they were still basically trivial and boring like villagers anywhere. Once he had journeyed with soulcrafters and dined on the finest of sublime materials. Sitting in this miserable little camp wasn't taking him any closer to revenge or understanding.

Just as Theo was about to leave the group, he heard whimpering from between the stalks of a nearby grain field. When he turned to look, he saw a young woman on her knees, clutching her eyes.

In an instant, he identified her dark hair and robes. Somehow she had been wrenched all the way from Ichil, a cold and dark world. The existence of such a large sun must be blinding to her, and the cacophony of colors and sounds would be terrifying. If she wasn't a world traveler, she would never have experienced anything like it, and this pleasant world must have seemed like a chaotic hell.

Leaping to help her might have been logical, but interacting with everyone had worn through his patience, and he had to consider if it was worth it. Before he could make a decision, one of the Tatian villagers stepped closer. He greeted the Ichili woman cheerfully and touched her shoulder, which was the worst possible thing he could have done.

She flinched backward, cried out, and threw up a hand. A burst of light briefly blinded the villager and he staggered away.

"Calm down there, miss!" The Tatian man rubbed his eyes, but continued smiling. "We're here to help, there's no need to be afraid..."

"You idiot, don't!" Theo's warning came too late, because the fool promptly reached out toward the woman again. Warm touching was common on Tatian, even among strangers, but on Ichil it was a shocking violation.

This time the light from her hand was no warning, but violent cantae flowing from her spirit. A torrential rain of bolts tore through the crops and descended on the villager and Theo.