—Chapter 11—

—Eyes of the Arbiter—

“Thank you,” Xiang said, her expression softening.

With a twirl of her hand, the illusions melted away. The room returned to its original appearance—green plants in every corner. A pleasant aroma of flowers. No one would ever expect that the room was actually a drab empty space devoid of decoration.

Kellan glanced around, still amazed by the detail of Xiang’s illusions. “And once we win, if Mavis and I want to return to our dimension, you’ll take us there, right? We don’t have to accompany you in Zenith?”

She nodded. “But I don’t understand why you would avoid it. Whatever life you had before, you can have a better one in Zenith.”

“Yeah, but maybe I liked my life before.” Kellan felt the depression in his own voice. Had he really been happy? “Mavis needs the choice, too. I don’t want to decide anything for her.”

Xiang lifted a perfect eyebrow. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure who Mavis is. I’ll have to discuss this all with my brother.” She stepped away from him, her long white robes flowing with her movements. “And… I need some time to process everything. Please speak to Sen about acquiring arcana. You should have some abilities before we enter into the games, and we don’t have much time left.”

“Wait,” Kellan said. “I have a couple questions.”

Xiang stopped near the balcony curtain, but she said nothing. In silence, she waited.

“I killed a Pestbyter, and Sen seemed to think that was the wrong move. What’s going to happen?”

“We’ll need to avoid the Justices until we can speak to the Arbiter himself. Destroying one of his creations is a crime that only he can absolve you of. It’ll make our trek to the AVU Palace difficult, but I’ll handle it.”

“Okay. And who is the Arbiter?”

“An ancient and powerful mage who has ruled the Nexus since history has been recorded here. He is, perhaps, part of the dimension itself.”

That didn’t help Kellan as much as he hoped it would.

“What is a mage, exactly?”

“An individual with a soul who is capable of improving their magic.” Xiang combed her fingers through his inky hair. “You are a mage. I’m a mage. Husker is a mage. But the Pestbyters are not. They are semi-sentient constructs, incapable of improving their magic and completely devoid of a soul.”

“How did I become a mage?”

“Crossing into the Nexus,” Xiang answered matter-of-factly. “There’s a percentage chance every time a soul crosses from one dimension to the other. One percent, the soul perishes. Eighty percent, the soul is touched by the Sea of Chaos, and is granted with magic. A nineteen percent chance the soul is granted lesser magical powers—they become a half-mage or something weaker.”

Kellan almost laughed. There were hard percentage numbers for when someone was granted magic? Was the Sea of Chaos an ancient algebra teacher who wanted the chance to say, I told you that learning math would be important! But did you listen? No!

“Wait.” Kellan could barely contain his anger. “There’s a one percent chance someone dies when they jump between dimensions?”

Xiang nodded. Then she glanced over her shoulder. “Does that upset you?”

The reckless disregard for his life bothered him, but Kellan wasn’t sure how angry he could get now. Sen risked his life. It wasn’t a huge risk, but it was still a risk.

“Can you just tell Sen to stop controlling me and Mavis? That way we can attempt to work together?” Kellan wanted that more than anything. The Delta Force wasn’t a team made up of nine talented individuals and one imprisoned enemy soldier. The special forces units only worked because they all trusted each other.

“Please,” Xiang said, fatigue in her voice. She looked away from him, her brow furrowed. “I need time. I told you I’d speak with my brother, but now… isn’t right.” She held onto the silk curtain. “If you could give me some space… I would appreciate that.”

Waiting around for this to get resolved isn’t my style. But Kellan didn’t have many more ideas. Without a firm grasp on what was going on, he couldn’t even offer solutions.

After a short sigh, Kellan muttered agreement and then left the room. He stepped into the hall, and turned to the right, only to almost trip over Sen. Kellan stopped and stared down at the kid, wondering when Sen had wandered back, and how much of the conversation he had overheard.

Without a word, Sen hurried down the hall, his expression neutral. Kellan followed, but the same feeling of tension returned. Something was wrong between the two siblings, though Kellan wasn’t sure what. And it was obvious to him that the sister hadn’t wanted Kellan around.

For some reason.

“Xiang seemed upset with my presence,” Kellan said as they reached the staircase. “I think she was crying."

Sen stutter-stepped to a halt. He waited at the edge of the first step, not moving. Then he inhaled and continued on his way. “You needn’t worry about that. I will speak with my sister. She’s just had a rough time lately. Nothing to dwell on.”

“Okay, well… Xiang said you would teach me about magical abilities.” Kellan followed after Sen. “She mentioned arcana. That is how I develop magic, isn’t it? Arcana?”

Sen huffed as he took the step one at a time, his legs short, and his enthusiasm less than before. “Arcana is the crystalized form of someone’s essence—their soul, if you will.”

The information stopped Kellan in his tracks. “Wait,” he said, desperate to understand. “I found arcana in the Pestbyter. Xiang just said it was a construct. It had no soul.”

Sen chuckled. He stopped on a step, turned around, and smiled. “Oh, you’re so young.” He straightened his robes. “The Pestbyter is capable of moving because of the power of the arcana. Think of it like a battery. The Arbiter made toys—the Pestbyters—and then powered them with the arcana.”

“The souls of… other people?”

“That’s right.”

“And that doesn’t disturb you?” Kellan asked with a single laugh.

Sen shook his head. “Of course not.” Then he turned back around and headed down the stairs. “Reality is harsh, and the strongest rule. The dead don’t need magic power—and once their arcana is gone, they’re done forever.”

Kellan listened, but the cold way Sen spoke rubbed him the wrong way. Kellan had never handled death well—that’s what his therapist had said, anyway.

And apparently, that’s what the magic says as well, Kellan thought with a chuckle. Apparently, he had a “flaw” that showed up any time he “examined” his own magical numbers. What had it said?

Kellan closed his eyes as they went down the last of the stairs, his nose filled with the thick smoke of the hippie den.

His flaw…

[Greater Attachment]—The mage suffers greater from personal loss than normal. Whenever the mage loses someone close, the mage’s wisdom is reduced to 1, and their willpower is temporarily halved.

“What is the number next to my wisdom when I look at my... my magic stats?” Kellan asked as they entered the entrance room of the building.

The white wolf butler-man at the front counter gave Kellan and Sen a brief glance. “Lucky blessings, mages.”

“Good day,” Kellan awkwardly muttered, unaccustomed to the awkward phrase.

Sen didn’t even bother answering the man. He waved a short arm and said, “Your wisdom score is a representation of how well you make decisions or snap judgments in dire situations. The higher a mage’s wisdom, the more they can resist stress, heat-of-moment violence, and impulsive self-gratification.” Sen clapped his hands together once. “It also represents their long-term planning, and it’s the skill used for long-term magical abilities.”

Again, Kellan wanted to protest, but the more he thought about it, the more that made sense. His wisdom score was a one—likely due to Greer and Jones’s death—and ever since then, Kellan had felt lethargic and prone to self-destructive decisions. Like drinking excessively. Staying away from the rest of his family.

Sen threw open the front curtain and strode out into the gloomy weather of the Nexus. The sky was tinted red, and the fog had migrated upward, like a low hanging cloud, or a patch of smog. Noise from the busy city bounced between buildings, creating a song of civilization.

Husker and Mavis waited out on the sidewalk, deep in conversation. They didn’t stop until Kellan and Sen drew close, and even then, it was reluctantly.

Mavis offered Kellan a smile, and he suspected she was okay.

“What did your sister say?” Husker asked, his voice a growl.

“She was upset,” Sen said matter-of-factly. “But she seems better now. Our warrior has agreed not to fight against us anymore. He’s part of our team.”

“Really?” Mavis turned to Kellan, her purple hair fluttering in the breeze that rushed down the road. “You want to stay here? In this place?”

“I don’t want to stay here.” Kellan sighed. “It’s a little complicated. Apparently, Sen and his sister need help. They want to see their mother and help their nation.”

Husker slowly turned his attention to Sen, his lip curled downward. The little boy said nothing in response.

“We can talk about this on the way to our destination,” Sen said. He threw his arms out to the side and dramatically stepped onto the black asphalt of the cracked street. “I will summon transportation.”

Kellan held his breath.

How did someone summon transportation? Would there be a magical circle that appeared on the ground, like when someone summoned a demon in a movie? Would the time space continuum open and reveal a twisted chariot? Kellan’s imagination ran wild, thinking up the craziest possible situations.

Instead, the sound of tire streaks came from a distant road. A limo turned around the corner and headed to their location. The vehicle slowed and then came to a stop in front of Sen. The tinted windows prevented Kellan from seeing inside—but once he got close, he didn’t want to see the inside. The limo was scuffed and rusted at points, like it had just escaped an impound.

That was it? No demon? No carriage pulled by unicorns? It was just a rusty limousine?

Kellan really didn’t understand the Nexus.

Sen smiled. “Ah, this is the way to travel.”

“You can’t be serious,” Husker growled. He turned and tugged at the hood of his cloak. “We can’t take this. The Arbiter won’t allow it.”

“I doubt he’ll prevent us from using his transportation.”

“Heh. Then test it. Have our warrior step inside.”

Sen huffed, threw back his long back hair, and shuffled over to the limo’s back door. He opened it up, threw back the door, and then waited. With a tight turn on his heel, he faced Kellan. “Would you do me the honor of sitting inside?”

“Why?” Kellan asked, glancing between Husker and Sen. “What’s going to happen?”

“The Eyes of the Arbiter are going to get upset,” Husker drawled. “And then the vehicle will attack you.”

Kellan crossed his arms. “That sounds terrible. I’ll just stay out here.”

With a snap of his fingers, Sen said, “Get in the vehicle, warrior.”

Again, the terrible sensation of the worms flooded Kellan’s senses. They writhed under his skin, forcing him into action. This time, Kellan tried to fight against it. He took a step, and then another, but slower than the last.

Mavis frowned. “Stop. Kellan just told you he’d play your stupid game.”

“This is faster,” Sen said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “If our warrior just complies, we needn’t waste time with discussion.”

The feeling of being puppeted…

Kellan hated every moment as he slowly sat down on the back leather seat of the limo. The inside was alive with neon green and pink lights, like the limo had been designed in the 80s. If the driver had huge puffed-up hair that reached the roof, Kellan wouldn’t have been surprised.

But then an eyeball opened on the roof of the limo—straight out of the fabric, and nearly the size of a golf ball.

Kellan tensed, his gaze on the eye and never looking away, never even blinking. The eye was fleshy and clear, but also machine-like. The camera at the center constricted and dilated, focusing on Kellan.

Information rushed to Kellan through his magical senses.

Magical Item [Semi-Sentient]—Eyes of the Arbiter

An observation tool used by the Arbiter to keep tabs on the citizens of the Nexus. They appear across surfaces with electronic components. Can see through moderate levels of obfuscation. It’s rather creepy.

“The eyes are here,” Kellan muttered, unable to look away. “Now what?”

Husker snorted. “Get out of the vehicle.”

“Stay inside,” Sen said. “And move over. The Eyes of the Arbiter are clearly not doing anything.”

But then the eye on the roof of the limo closed with a wet click. The roof returned to its normal state—fabric and half-ripped. Kellan held his breath, unsure of where the eye had gone to. Could it move? Or was it just under the fabric? He reached his hand up, his fingers trembling as he went to touch it.

Then a clicking sound unnerved him. Click, click, click. He had heard it before.

An igniter.

Kellan’s heart stopped for the split second it took him to leap out of the limo. Despite the protest of the worms—writing, fighting him—he managed to roll out of the limo right before the entire inside was flooded with flames. The seats burned, the floorboards caught fire, and the entire vehicle looked like a crematory for a short six seconds.

Sen held up an arm to shield his eyes.

Mavis just stared, dumbfounded.

But none of this seemed to surprise Husker. He laughed for a moment and then sighed.

With shaky limbs, Kellan got to his feet. The Tyranny Worms struggled for a bit, but their power slowly faded. Was it because he had healed so much damage in such a short period of time? Or was he just strong enough to resist? Kellan wasn’t sure.

Sen exhaled. His irritation was comically apparent. “Very well, we won’t take the Arbiter’s transportation.” He waved his arm, and the limo took off down the road, its insides still alight with fire. “We’ll have to hurry then. We’ll head to the outskirts of the city and search for a yami.”

“What’s a yami?” Mavis asked, rubbing at her arms. “Is it as bad as random eyes trying to kill us?”

“Yami are monsters born of corrupted magic,” Husker replied. “If you kill the big ones, you can harvest their insides for small amounts of arcana.” He shifted a bit, his chains rattling. “Since our warrior already has some arcana, we’ll only need to strike down one or two in order to get him enough to develop some magical abilities.”

“What about me?” Mavis turned to the werewolf creature. “You said I was talented enough to develop magic, and that I should.”

“Hm. You are, but if we manage to arrive at the AVU Palace without much difficulty, we can get easier—and more plentiful—arcana. It would be the safer route to ensure you’re not harmed further.”

Mavis nodded along with his words. “All right. That sounds good.”

“Since when did you two become friends?” Kellan quipped.

She shrugged. “He’s reasonable. I like him.”

“He suggested that Sen order me to kill you. You remember that? When we first all met?”

“It was a precaution,” Husker said before Mavis could respond. “If you weren’t under our control, it could spell disaster for us all.”

That wasn’t the best explanation.

But apparently Husker was on their team—and if Kellan was going to help them win, he’d have to get along with the werewolf-man.

Sen hurried down the road, toward the edge of the city, and back to the barricade. “Come. I know a place where yami dwell. Those odd panthers who stalk the darkness. They will provide us with the necessary arcana to give our warrior an advantage in battle.”