“He will kill you, Reza, if he finds out.” Reizenbrahm marched as fast as the average man could jog. It was surreal to see him move this way, to see anyone move that way for that matter. He had all but dragged me from Janina’s cell while I was deep in the throes of insight, designing a way to break my Sentence, and he hadn’t even given me so much as a conversation. Just orders.

The Inquisition was coming. They were an arm of government tasked to root out and execute madness practitioners, and they hadn’t just sent a pencil-pusher, but an ace among their ranks. The Ghost was a legend, and he was wholly devoid of mercy and compassion.

“Don’t try anything,” he said. “It will not work out for you.”

“I have been nothing but loyal to the terms of our agreement thus far,” I said.

He didn’t reply to that. Instead, he walked out of the manor. I stopped just at the doorstep and he turned around to glare at me. “I can’t leave,” I said. “You sentenced me to be inside the manor.”

“Just this once, I will allow you outside.” The pressure on my chest eased and I continued to follow him. Parked just outside was a wooden stagecoach drawn by wolfbears. Out stepped a young, pale man with dark hair and even darker eyes, solid black gems that didn’t even reflect any sunlight. They looked more like holes than pupils. He had a most peculiar form of handsomeness, too, like an old and distinguished man yet with clear and smooth skin. He looked to be under his prime if anything.

He wore a black trench-coat of a fine and lustrous material, and the only non-black thing that adorned him was a white medallion attached to his chest, a circle with two sharp ends opposite each other, and a black dot at the center. An eye.

“Ah, Reizenbrahm!” the man said, and without any decorum, he hugged the old Judge. “It is good to see you are hale and… healthy.” He turned to me. “And who is this beautiful young flower?”

“My healer,” Reizenbrahm said. “The one responsible for my current state of health, no doubt the reason why you are here, sir…”

“Of course!” He backed away. “You might only know me for my epithet, but I am known as Rector Erlander Black. You can simply refer to me as Rector.”

That his last name was Black and that his eye color matched its namesake meant that this Rector was probably either born out of wedlock, or was an orphan. I had done some research on Aellian superstition, and the topic was rife with confusing customs and practices, most notably being the significance that eye-color played in your life.

Those with black eyes were relegated to dirty work. That was all society would allow them to do, and encourage them to do so with a smile as well.

“I am a busy man, Rector,” Reizenbrahm said, arms folded. “And this impromptu visit of yours was most disruptive to my schedule.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” He waved his hand. “We may conduct our interview right here,” he said. “Or, you can simply take me out on a walk to see your grotesquely large estate. Oh, best bring your healer with us.”

Despite the suggestion for Reizenbrahm to take us on a walk, Rector decided to walk ahead instead, hands behind him, the very picture of laxity.

“Your name, my lady?” he asked, not even looking at me.

“Reza.”

“Can you tell me your class, levels, all your attributes and any titles you may possess?”

So, the whole system sheet then. “Very well,” I said, and I launched into the story I’d pre-prepared in case anyone asked. “I’m a level twenty Medicine Woman, I have four Power, five Endurance, ten Coordination, ten Intelligence, ten Wisdom and four Charm. I have the title ‘Bearer of the Orb of Life’.”

While I made my speech, I had already evoked several spells, just waiting to be fully triggered. Nothing so pedestrian as Purge Life, either. I was prepared to hurl at him a fist-full of flesh-eating bacteria, which would regenerate at an unsustainable pace. It would kill him in less than a minute if I didn’t also prepare to spear him through with a shard of bone in my arm while he was blinded, ready to be shot-out at breakneck speeds.

If this Inquisitor was anything like Reizenbrahm, then it meant that he would know when I was lying, and I had to be prepared for if his reputation wasn’t just hot air.

He turned to me with a fascinated grin. “Can I see this Orb of Life? I have never heard of it—where did you find it?”

“Why would I give you my Royal Treasure?” I asked. “And I found it in the Golden City of Dhul Arsha.”

“Truly?” he asked. Then he turned to the woodlands of Reizenbrahm’s estate. “How far does the forest stretch?”

Reizenbrahm answered curtly, “Seeing as we are in a city, not very far.”

“You don’t like me very much!” the Rector replied. “Hahah, well, yes. My reputation precedes me. You probably wish I was far away from your family, but unfortunately, you will just have to entertain my presence for some time.”

I spoke up. “Excuse me, Rector, but… are we accused of anything?”

“No, nothing of the sort.” He whirled around and flashed me a winning smile, walking backwards as he spoke. “I merely came here to ascertain my own personal misgivings, hence the last-minute warning of my arrival. I do so apologize for my abrupt entry, but just like you, I too have a tight schedule. Would you believe how many people there are who spend their spell points and then immediately seek to make themselves kings of the proverbial castle? It’s truly ridiculous how confident they are.” He turned around to walk forward again.

Reizenbrahm cleared his throat. “You will find no such baseless and destructive confidence here.” I had half a mind to tell Reizenbrahm to shut up. He was hopeless at being a criminal. To be fair, I was, too, but at least I knew not to try and affirm our innocence every other minute.

“Oh? And… I’m supposed to believe that from the very people whom I am suspicious of?”

“What can we do to prove our innocence?” he asked.

He turned around to face me and the world turned gray. “You can start with forgetting about all of that rubbish, and tell me of your progress, sweet mother.”

Reizenbrahm was still as death itself, and so was the world around us. The grass didn’t blow, and neither did the leaves on the trees rustle, or the birds in the sky fly. Magic. Or system magic; a skill in any other words. “What?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes, everything about him except for his face locked in time. “I have seen you in so many visions, worshipped you since I was a child. You are the one, Mother of Magic.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” I didn’t evoke my spells just yet, seeing as I wasn’t in immediate danger. Unless this was all an illusion.

No. I needed to see this through, and see what happened afterwards. If I reacted too quickly, I might have just outed myself for him.

He detached us both from our corporeal forms and we flew into the sky, into the night, that was midday just a few minutes ago, and appeared in some burnt-down village. “You have no idea what I have done in life, sweet mother. How many of our kind that I have burnt on pyres or hung till dead. So many… idiots and morons.” He spat on the ground, the very image of fury and wrath. “I hate them!” he screamed. “I hate them all!” His rage suddenly melted into apathy, and he sighed. “For all the ways that they continue to disappoint me, and continue to be a danger for everyone around them, but I, sweet mother, I am like you!” He grabbed my shoulders and smiled fondly. “I see you. Believe me, I do. I see you for all of your beautiful glory.”

“I—I am afraid I do not understand.”

He chuckled. Then, he spoke. [Do You Understand Me Now?]

Those weren’t words. Those were glyphs. He could speak with glyphs! How was that not evidence that he was one of… well, us? Another magician?

Only the fact that he had built a reputation on hunting madness practitioners until he began to be called ‘The Ghost’. I had no idea why that was his name, and I wasn’t particularly eager to ask him why.

“I don’t understand!” I shouted.

He looked at me in shock, a shock that slowly transformed to a grin that grew wider and wider, mirth dripping off from him in laughing rivulets. The fact that I could see his very mirth proved to me that I was no longer in the mundane realm.

I was somewhere else.

“You truly are a cut above the rest, sweet mother. Truly. Vigilant until the very end, as you currently perceive it. To me, however? You are a diamond in the rough, and I will be happy to realize this new world that you envision. The demons have told me stories of you, of a rare timeline where you change the world!” He wept, tears dripping down from him in streams that weren’t natural, a continuous down-pouring of tears from those black holes he called eyes. He dried out his eyes and continued. “You need not trust me right now—honestly I would be disappointed if you did—but I want you to be aware that you have me in your corner, implicitly.”

“What is happening?” I asked. My only defence, now, was to play dumb, to pretend that this phantasm of a village he was now massacring, of madness practitioners too mired in their art to even comprehend reality itself, was just something to make me confident enough to out myself.

He would find that his task was more difficult than just that. The Ghost was formidable, but to me, he was just another assailant, another Reizenbrahm set to destroy me before I could realize my potential.

As though I had imagined it, I was once more back in the nature trail of Reizenbrahm’s estate. He walked like he had never even seen anything amiss, and I followed.

“You would do well not to antagonize me,” the Rector continued. “Do you know why I gained this name, gained the sobriquet of the Ghost?” He stopped, and turned around to face the large man. Though they were about the same height, Reizenbrahm’s hulking frame seemed to outmass him twice over, yet the Inquisitor did not balk. “Why? Because I am bloody scary.”

“Evidence,” the old Judge boomed. “Unless you have it, I would like for you to leave my grounds and molest my help no further.”

“Of course!” he said. “Of course. Of course, of course I would accommodate you, Judge of Aellia. You are a hero, and it is only natural of me to respect you because of this. The riches you brought home to Aellia after your feats in the Naval Incursion?” He tapped his skull. “Why, I remember. And I respect you.”

“Very good!” Reizenbrahm said. “Now—”

“That said,” the Rector continued. “I would still like to see this Orb of Life, and catalogue it in order to finally acquit you of any suspicions that I might personally have, and you know how important my opinion is to the Inquisition, so I suggest you stop resisting and let me satisfy my curiosity.”

Reizenbrahm turned to me with a frown, and I shook my head. “It is an important possession.”

“Reza,” he growled. “Give the man what he wants.”

I would have continued resisting, if it wasn’t for the weight on my chest, the Sentence ordering me to be useful to Reizenbrahm.

I could be useful in killing the Rector. If I killed Erlander Black and helped cover his death up, that would unequivocally be of help to the same man that’d invited the crimes I perpetrated in his house, the man that knowingly aided and abetted in said crimes, and benefited from them as well.

Right now, the Sentence bade me to surrender my Focus and have the Rector examine it. I pulled it out from my pocket and gave it to the Inquisitor, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. He looked it over, his interest and glee peaking to a whole new level. The world turned gray once more. “A familiar soul?!” He laughed. “You managed to create a familiar soul in an inanimate object, one not bound to the limitations of flesh! Sweet mother, you have truly exceeded my expectations. You are the one, truly.”

His black holes bored into the diamond with a redoubled intensity. “Geometrical Ritualism… which you named Circle Magic. A good name as any, and a most ambitious undertaking, but I believe that you hold the answer to cracking that arcane riddle, and that answer is… Focus.” Somehow, this place that we were in let me hear his words in layers of two languages, Aellian and English, the language I had used in my mind to name the tool.

Unlike Janina, he grasped even the spell’s true name.

Though, more likely, whatever illusion he had captured me in was designed specifically to make me drop my cover, perhaps confirm his hopes and bask in the adulation he brought forth. It was very possible that he knew absolutely nothing about what happened in these phantasms.

After all, I was indeed tempted to bask in my greatness. He was good. Not good enough, however.

The world returned to the way it was and he scrutinized the little ball for a few seconds before handing it back. “Seeing as you have a title unique to the Orb, it means you may have bonded to it. Certainly, I don’t seem to be able to use it. That does not mean you should be careless with it, although you don’t have to worry about that, being as vigilant as you are.”

He flashed a wide smile, the white of his shiny teeth such a contrast to his eyes.

Reizenbrahm rolled his eyes at the Ghost’s antics. “Anything more you would like to see or know?”

“I would like to speak with Reza alone. Just a few words, on my word, and I will leave your grounds.”

Reizenbrahm huffed, but he turned around and walked back to the manor, though not before pressing my shoulder meaningfully as he passed me by. Once he was finally out of earshot, the Inquisitor smirked at me. “I never thought he’d leave. So”—he spread his arms wide—“I haven’t given you the best first-impression, but I thought you could handle it. Unfortunately, you have not come nearly as far as I wanted you to have. It’s his fault, no doubt.” He grimaced. “An artless philistine, he is. One with resources, no doubt, hence why he managed to lure you into his fold when you thought you had lured him.” He held up a hand to forestall me. “We all make mistakes, sweet mother, and yours can yet be rectified. Simply take care of that”—he pointed at my chest, and for a moment I entertained the thought that he was harassing me, but then I felt the tug of my metaphysical bond, pulsing ever so often. “Nasty little bugger. Anyhow, once you are ready to move on, I will find you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “You said you would acquit us, and yet now—”

He laughed. “Ah well. As a parting gift, I would like to take your magic research to the next level. Look into your familiar and enjoy this present, as it will most certainly render everything you’ve done so far mere cantrips and simple tricks. Be careful, however, for the demons do not play by our rules, although you must probably already know that.” He gave a sharp nod. “Well, good bye, Reza Talib. Until next time.”

I hurried ahead of him, back to the manor, where I returned to my bedroom. Shana was still there, ladling food into my son’s mouth. I sat down on the bed and didn’t speak at all, my mind still awhirl with questions.

Was this truly my reality, or the most elaborate phantasm ever concocted? If I cast one more spell, would I return back to the trail, with Reizenbrahm and the Inquisitor, the latter ready to apprehend me and make good on his reputation?

Or was it better to apply Occam’s Razor, and assume that the man, who somehow knew my last name despite my never having mentioned it out loud, was also a practitioner of madness and an ally. Yet, he was twisted enough to persecute others for doing the same thing he did. And why would he be waiting for me? What was so special about me, beyond the obvious?

Either story was eminently unlikely. One required that I doubt my entire reality, and the other required that I believed I was some chosen one tasked to turn my dreams into reality.

It was impossible to decide, so it would be better if I just confirmed my suspicions here and now.

I cast Cure Disease on Shana while she wasn’t watching, and waited for the other shoe to drop, for the phantasm to crack and to begin fighting for my life.

Nothing like that happened.

The Inquisitor had no reason to not punish me for practicing magic, regardless of the circumstance. It was the highest taboo in the lands. This was confirmation that he wasn’t completely full of shit.

I retrieved the Focus from my pockets and peered into it, to look for whatever ‘gift’ he had deposited, and I was… not disappointed.

‘Commune with Demons’. The instructions were in the glyphs. I just had to evoke the spell and call a demon’s True Name, and they could choose to appear if they wanted.

And I knew just the one to call.

But that was for later. Right now? I needed rest. I had been through much, after all.

000

A wave of good health and cheer washed over Shana for no discernible reason, though it was likely because the frightening Goldman lady refrained from even acknowledging her.

It could be a trap, though, and Shana decided it was better to address her rather than wait to be yelled at, or worse yet, injured and bedridden like Karina currently was. She turned to look at the tired form of the young lady. “Would you like me to give you the report of our day so far?”

She blinked at Shana’s direction. “Ah. No.”

Irrationally, Shana immediately assumed she was at fault for the lady’s discontent. “I am taking good care of your son, so please do not worry about him.”

She winced. “Shana, please…” ‘shut up’ she filled the silence mentally. Instead, she sat upright and scooched over to the foot of the bed to sit next to her. She looked Shana in her eyes, searchingly. “I have been cruel to you.”

“I—I would not be so—”

She held up a hand. “I’m not saying this for your benefit. I’m saying it for mine, so I can face the person I am becoming head-on, and reject that path.” She broke eye-contact and looked towards the door of the room right in front of her. “It means very little to you, I know, but I was… I was not always like this.” She smiled forlornly. “I used to be more patient, more confident that things would work out. And now…” she hummed. “Let us simply say that they haven’t, not for a long time now.”

“Things will work out,” Shana said. “As long as you don’t give up.” It was the most basic platitude of them all, but the only kind words she could offer since she had no knowledge whatsoever about what plagued her.

Reza had a pitying look in her eyes, and she held Shana’s cheek gently. “You don’t have to be so nice to me, you know. I terrorized you and threatened you with bodily harm, yet you’re eager to do my bidding.” She pulled back. “I understand why. All your life, you’ve been taught to be this way, and though you might sometimes not think it fair, you always end up accepting it at the end of the day. What if I told you that you don’t have to live this way?”

Shana looked away and her mind raced for all the ways she could reject such a treasonous proposal. Was Reza the fae that would whisk Shana to another world of princesses and ballroom gowns?

“I can teach you how to read,” she said. “Eventually, one day. I could take you away from this place once I am ready to move on. Would you like that, Shana?”

She didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it. She didn’t trust it, either. “I don’t understand, my lady. I am not… I cannot do…” She struggled to find the words for it. “That.”

She merely nodded. “I don’t expect you to rush to such a decision. I will treat you with dignity and respect from now on. You’re taking care of my boy, after all. It is the least that you deserve.”

She didn’t really understand or believe that either, but she put on a smile and nodded anyway. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Would you… please leave my room?” she then asked. “And ask someone to fetch me some buckets?”

Shana quickly stood up and left the room.

000

It had taken me four hours to finish my Circle Magic. While lines drawn with chalk were good for helping me to focus on a particularly challenging spell, such as attribute transference, plotting the circles mentally was well within my ability. The spells I wanted to achieve were biomagic-related, after all.

In the darkness of my room, I Manipulated Magic in the shape of the circles I had prepared in my head. With my magical senses, I could see the whole room light up with patterns. I evoked the litany of spells, and immediately I felt wrong.

The pain nullification came first. Then, my stomach caved inwards. All of my visceral organs, except for my heart and lungs, disappeared, and reappeared inside the four buckets I had arranged for.

I had thought too small for far too long. If I already had spells to satiate my body, allowing it to have nutrients aplenty, and spells to purge diseases and other toxins from my body, then what did I need a liver or digestive system for? All those things, I could regulate on my own. I just had to make minor adjustments to my life, like casting the necessary spells every now and then to keep myself hale and healthy, or perhaps create slow-release versions of those spells so they would continuously keep me functional.

One day, I might even be able to rely on my familiar for all of those things.

Right now, though? I needed the space.

The effects of the Circle Magic were not over yet. I felt other things grow in place of what I had gotten rid of. Poison sacs, new muscles, the modification of existing muscle and skin in order to allow a little surprise to come out.

A second trachea in case someone tried to choke me out? A laughably tame modification. I had to go beyond human, while still managing to pass off as one. I needed an option I could reach for in a pinch.

Four holes opened on my back, out from which came bone-tipped, prehensile appendages of modified muscle with fibers that were at least five times as powerful as human ones. There was a remarkable amount of space for them inside of my body as long as they were coiled up and relaxed, so they could reach upwards of three meters away.

And they would sting.

I shot them forwards as fast as I could, and I pulled my whole body with me. I stabbed them on the floor to arrest my momentum. They dug into the wood with a satisfying thunk. With the boosting spells, they would make me a monster in my own right.

Come tomorrow, I would commune with Rezdnaq Qandzer, and find a way to break my Sentence.