Light poured through the canopy, casting shadows that shifted from a breeze overhead.

Stepping lightly, Millie ventured forth as her heart pounding in her chest. It was irritating, but she couldn’t help the fear gnawing at her. She’d been on several expeditions so far, but each one had seemed more deadly than the last. So, even as she stared out through the serene forest, listening vaguely to the sounds of life…

She couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the day she died.

This is so stupid, she thought. Why does a mission for collecting herbs have to be life-threatening? Internally, she cursed the Expedition Center and its job board, but she knew she had little choice. The Academy classes served to teach them the fundamentals of magic and combat, but that was all. It wasn’t enough.

She needed better Attributes. She needed better spells. She needed Attainments! And magical gear! And she needed…she sighed, pausing briefly as she scanned her surroundings. There had been something she’d needed before, so desperately, but it was too late for that now. Regardless, to survive she needed resources and there was only one way to get them. So, here she was. Again.

She began to move further in, still treading familiar territory but pushing her boundaries. Watching carefully where she stepped on the forest floor, she made her way through a patch of bright green foliage. There wasn’t much debris on the ground to watch out for—thankfully—as the expedition Realm had started in spring. Sadly, it had been a few Earth weeks since then, and now there was only a short time left until Monsen; the mystical ‘fifth’ season that was interspersed between the more traditional four. She still didn’t know what to expect from it and wasn’t looking forward to finding out.

It still boggled her mind, however, that this ‘practice’ Realm was supposedly bigger than the Earth. Not by much, true, but it was still crazy. There were barely three hundred students, and with this much space, no one expected to run into another soul anytime soon. This side of the gate at least.

A thought came to Millie, and she quirked a smile. The Archmagi of old would probably be turning in their graves if they found out their beloved city was filled with incompetent humans from a Mana-less world. A city so powerful, the robotic custodians had apologized that due to the calamity they had but a single world to explore. Apparently, there would be more in the future once they’d had time to reconstruct them, but it was still ridiculous to Millie. This was Magincia at its weakest.

She shook her head at her musings before a noise drew her attention. She froze, listening intently, before ducking around a tree like a shadow, her high agility making the motion effortless. She waited patiently, breathing quietly as she strained to hear what was nearby. It sounded small, but she knew that could be deceiving. She briefly considered poking her head out to look, but no—that was how you got shot in the face. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. The long scar along her cheek itched at the memory.

The rustling happened again. Something in a bush nearby. Five yards out? Seven? Millie bit her lip. She could come out wand blazing, but that would backfire dramatically if there was an ambush waiting for her. She could risk an improvised spell, perhaps? An enhancement to her senses, or perhaps a disembodied view of the area? The information could be invaluable.

Then again, the attempt could also melt her ears off if she got the rune combination or Mana regulation wrong. Not to mention how much it will cost even if I do succeed, she brooded. Mana for first rank Magi; Initiates like her, varied from ten to twenty points depending on one’s spiritual Attributes. The starting average for most students was fourteen. But for Millie?

She had twelve ‘drams’ of Mana. And that was after she’d bumped it up by bolstering her stats—she’d started with a ten-dram pool due to taking the remedy so late. She’d run out of resources quickly after that and had to focus on training her Mana manipulation and Spellcraft. The things resources couldn’t buy, that would make her castings more efficient and thus let her smaller pool go further.

But can we take a moment and agree that drams are a stupid term for Mana? She griped silently. Most students just called it Mana points—or MP for short—for a reason. Still, that aside she ran through the numbers. Casting a tier-one spell would start at a base cost of one Mana, but because it would be an improvised spell she’d have to spend more to make it viable. That would take anywhere from another one to four additional points, based purely on how compatible her starting formation was and how well she interpreted her runes. For not the first time, she wished she’d learned more formations to build off of. But, of course, that would take more resources.

I have to risk it, she decided. It would be costly, risky even, but if it was a Goblin hunting party? The advanced warning on their numbers and positions could easily mean the difference between life and death. It had before.

Okay, Millie. You got this. She pepped herself up as she began the arduous process of constructing the spell in her mind. Sadly, it wasn’t as simple as envisioning the outcome of magic you wanted, which was wildly upsetting to a number of students, Millie included.

To start, Magic was…everything. That was the first thing they’d learned, and it was as helpful as it was vague. But their teachers had insisted on the point—magic was all things in all ways. But trying to capture everything in one’s mind was ludicrously impossible. So, instead, they’d had to learn a magical paradigm: a way to divide and approach magic that made sense. There was no right or wrong way to do it, but Magincia stressed that their method was superior. Millie wasn’t sure if that truly was the case but she, like all the other students, didn’t have any alternatives.

The first point of division for magic was the ten Arcanum. The entire reason the city had such a love for the number ten was based solely on the fact that their magical paradigm featured these ten divisions in magic. From those, students learned runes: expressions of something greater through representation, filtered through the lens of the Arcanum.

Something something ‘as above, so below,’ Millie thought, only a tad bit bitter. Runes were frustrating to her on many levels. Take the Rune of Fire for example. Did you mean flames, the elemental spirit? Heat, as in the vibration within atoms? Or perhaps, the Alchemical Process of Nigredo, the Blackening? Sure, most assumed it had to do with putrefaction and thus death, but it was also the penetration of the external fire to activate the inner flame. It was literally the refinement stage of ‘cooking’ your materials.

They were all different, yet equally valid, interpretations of the rune. They were also all different Arcanum: Animus, Primus, and Materia respectively. Or Entropia on the last one, depending on the strict interpretation of Alchemy being used.

God, I hate Alchemy, she thought with a shudder. As if runes and Arcanum weren’t enough, there were various ‘arts’ within Spellcasting. Divination and Alchemy were examples: standardized methods to approach combining runes to cast magic in a formation. Divination focused on reflecting on greater ideas to gain insight with patterns and symbology, and Alchemy was…well, throwing everything into a pot and hoping for the best, both physically and magically.

CJ would smack me over the head if he heard me say that. Her friend had decided to go down the Alchemist route, given that a lot of his own life skills overlapped. However, for not the first time, Millie dearly wished they could be allowed to team up on expeditions. But that wouldn’t be allowed until much later. So for now, she was alone. Not that it matters much, she thought. Aside from CJ none of the others would want to help me anyway. That’s what I get, I guess, for treating them like I did.

Millie bit back the hollowness she felt thinking about her classmates, however, and re-focused on her spell. She didn’t know a lot of formations, but she did have a basic divination pattern she could draw from. If cast all on its own, it was technically a valid spell. It asked and answered a simple question: is this spell, a spell. It was…weird, but a good basis to build off of. She assumed that’s why students were taught it.

Then she selected several runes. Reveal. Appear. Know. Enemy. Self. Stars. She placed them into formation in her mind, taking care to interpret them through the Arcanum of Axiom, and let her Mana begin to flow. The spell quickly completed, coming back with a result. It didn’t work, the spell was not a spell. There was too much dissonance in her rune choice. But that was fine—she’d expected that. This was just the starting point.

She adjusted the runes and how they connected. Catherine, back when they were on speaking terms, had once told her that casting magic was like trying to create a protein using a connect-the-dots drawing. It was an annoyingly accurate depiction in Millie’s mind.

Shifting the flow of magic between the runes, Millie strengthened some parts and weakened others, influencing the ‘drawing.’ She had only a vague idea of where she was going with it, but she got another answer from the spell itself at the end of her refinement. This spell was not a spell…yet.

She was down two Mana, one for the initial cast and one for the first refinement. She used another to refine the improvised spell further following the exercises she was taught despite not fully understanding them. Internally, she could feel the energy inside her physical body shifting. She was getting closer to a manifestation, but it was too unsteady. She could force it out now and it would likely work, but doing so would guarantee backlash—something would go wrong, like her ears burning off. So, she drew on another Mana to correct the remaining imbalances.

Finally, the runes shifted in her mind as the formation lines changed and the shape of the spell snapped into focus. She knew from experience that this wasn’t a ‘real’ spell, and trying to recreate it would be a nightmare. It was a snapshot of magic, born from her interpretation of the runes at the moment, an interpretation she couldn’t even explain, as delicate as a house of cards. But a spell didn’t have to be good to work, no more than an arrow had to be flawless to soar through the air. Put enough force behind something, and just about anything could fly.

Only a handful of seconds had passed, and Millie’s Mana dropped as the spell manifested, a total of four Mana spent on her improvised spell. Not great, but not the worst she could have done. She would’ve had an easier time if she’d had a relevant foci; a magical means to refine and direct spells quicker and easier. Sadly, the two she owned wouldn’t have helped with this type of spell. Also without a foci to help direct the spell, the magical effect kind of just flubbed out behind her in an awkward manner, blanketing the area. Some creatures might be able to sense her messy spell, but casting was hard enough—she could hardly account for more advanced issues like subtly casting magic. Instead, the manifestation from the Arcana of Axiom took hold in her mind and she saw…truth.

Or at least…mostly truth. A fuzzy half-formed truth that looked more like an etch-a-sketch drawing done by a drunk toddler, but, it was information and it was useful. Gazing down, Millie could see the area for over a dozen yards out with an unobstructed view. It was only ‘fuzzy’ because she still hadn’t quite gotten used to the concept of a ‘third eye,’ which was to say one’s innate ability to perceive and understand magic as a sense. Still, focusing further she saw everything among the trees, the bushes, and the rocks. Leaves and stone, branch and dirt, birds and insects, the world itself laid bare in mind-numbing detail before her. However, in the middle of one of the bushes was the source of the rustling. It was a rabbit, nibbling at a shoot of green growth. She lost sight then as the spell winked out, the formation too weak to sustain it further.

Just a rabbit, she thought, breathing a sigh of relief. Okay, I got this. She gripped her wand tightly as she loosened her stance and prepared herself. Danger wasn’t off the table, even with a rabbit, but chances were she could handle this. She’d noticed before that the Realm Magincia had created was filled with familiar animals. The problem was—they all had mutations of some kind that gave them magical abilities. They were usually minor, but sometimes they presented…challenges.

Millie carefully poked her head around the tree. There, she caught the sight of the white rabbit hiding in the bushes. Despite the stark coloration, leftover from a winter that had technically never occurred, she’d probably have missed it in the shade without her spell. Still, looking it over she saw what she needed.

Two stubby little nubs sat on the back of the rabbit’s head. Which meant it was weak—the stronger ones would’ve had relatively large, noteworthy antlers. She’d heard someone else claim that meant these were ‘jackalopes,’ or what have you, but that didn’t matter to Millie. What did matter, was that the size and development of the antlers showed you how magical they were. Nubs was a good sign, meaning the small critter would have one or two uses of whatever ability it had to its name. As far as Millie had seen, there wasn’t any consistency to what spell-like powers beasts would have, but with rabbits, it was usually defensive in nature.

Usually. Millie swallowed hard as she began to cast another spell.

This one came easily though—the formation’s image had long since been pounded into her stubborn brain. She was absolutely positive she could cast this one in her sleep. It even showed up in her soul scroll under registered spells, right next to Truth Augury, the near-useless ‘this spell is a spell’ spell she’d just used as a basis for her improvised divination.

“Frost Bolt!” Millie called out her trigger phrase, and an orb of ice appeared and shot out of her wand. Mid-flight, the orb smoothed out into a shard that pierced the rabbit right between the eyes. She was down only a single point of Mana from the cast, with it striking her prey before she’d even finished speaking. This was the power of a registered spell coupled with a dedicated foci.

“Hell yes,” Millie said, pumping her arm in victory. A rabbit’s pelt was worth at least five resources, possibly more. Sadly the antlers would’ve gone for more, and with nubs, she was unlikely to net much if anything there. Still, this was an amazing score for her, and she quickly made her way over to her kill, kneeling between the branches. She froze, however, when she heard another rustling.

Gingerly, she looked up, and almost screamed when she saw it.

It was the damn rabbit. It was skinless and staring at her in consternation. Its little nubs glowed briefly before slowly, flesh and hair reformed across its body. When it was done, it snuffled its little nose at her before bounding off, disappearing in a flash. Millie looked down incredulously to see a mass of white hair and blood impaled by her quickly evaporating ice.

“God damn it, I hate these things!” She shouted in frustration. She really did hate them though. The last rabbit she’d found had blinked around her, as though to taunt her as it phased in and out of reality circling her until she gave up and went home. The time before that, the little fucker she’d found had hurled rocks and twigs at her with some minor telekinesis ability. She’d been picking splinters out of her flesh for hours in the healing pool.

Whatever, she thought despondently. I’m not here for hunting anyways, just would have been nice. Reluctantly, Millie turned her attention to rooting around the brush. Eventually, beneath the broad leaves of the plant (which she hoped weren’t poisonous) she saw signs of a small sprout with thin little bristles along the stem. It reminded Millie of giant ragweed and, thankfully, it was on her list. She began harvesting it, using a sharped stone she’d collected on a previous expedition. Just a dozen more, and her bundle of twenty would be complete. She’d get a whole single resource point for her efforts.

Wish I had a damn knife, she grumbled silently. Maybe I should just suck it up and buy one from the market. I could probably get a cheap one for a few resources. Right? She sighed, remembering when students had caught wind of the fact that none of the ‘free’ material they could requisition in the Academy could be brought on expeditions. If he was to be believed, CJ had found that out the hard way on his first outing when he’d stepped through the gate only to arrive naked on the other side. She laughed a little at that memory before her efforts in the present finally paid off. The plant came free and she added it to her bundle.

“Of course, what I really want is one of those stupid bags of holding, or whatever,” she mumbled. “But two thousand RP for the smallest one? Such a fucking rip-off!” She scoffed before standing up. Taking a deep breath, she took stock of her surroundings.

It was the only thing that saved her life.

“Force Shield!” Millie shouted as a translucent, shimmering disk of force appeared in front of her. The arrow hit a split second later as Millie stumbled back, thankful for every point she’d invested into her reflexes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! She cursed internally, backpedaling as she saw it. A sneering grin, filled with razor-sharp teeth. The creature stood up and readied another arrow. Goblins. Or at least, that’s what most of the students took to calling them.

In truth, no one knew what they were. At over four and a half feet tall, with tan skin and lithe, savage features, they looked more like orcs from Lord of the Rings to Millie. Most disagreed though, saying they weren’t ugly enough to be orcs, but were ugly enough to be Goblins. The logic escaped Millie, but she liked the minority that called them ‘cannibal wood elves.’ Especially given the fact that the adults sported intricate tribal tattoos and were hairy save for those that shaved, which seemed to be a common choice among their kind. They were also seldom alone.

Where there’s one there’s more, she reminded herself. Backing up, she kept her shield in front of her as the Goblins second arrow fired, and bounced off the shimmering energy. Her caution was rewarded when three more archers popped up to take their shots. She quickly ducked behind cover, keeping her Attainment up and active.

Her one, and only, Attainment was Force Shield, and it like all Attainments was, for most interpretations, a magical ability not unlike what creatures had. For Magi, however, Attainments came in one of two varieties. Hidden Attainments, which were built off of the existing underlying capabilities of one’s body, mind, or soul. Or external Attainments, like the one she used, which could be anchored in any number of physical ways. She’d gone for a bit more of a discrete method, however, as an anchor for her Attainment. There were some students who’d literally grown antlers, or even more exotic mutations, in their quest for power.

A Goblin came screeching out towards her, flanking around the tree, stone knives slicing through the air. Millie rolled away, continuing to use the tree to break line of sight with the archers, before drawing her hand back and flicking her wrist. The back of her hand glowed with the formation tattooed onto it, and the disk of force compressed to her knuckles before swinging sideways to rest against her arm like a real shield. In many ways, her Attainment was considered lackluster, given the fact that it mimicked what both spell and equipment could do, but Millie didn’t care—it was damn useful. Her Force Shield stopped the Goblin mid-flight, and she grunted, bracing against the ground, before tossing the bastard back.

Her Attainment had some advantages, but also—serious drawbacks. One Mana was all it took to cast, and she could maintain it effortlessly for up to an hour without issue, winking it in and out of existence during that time. However, it only covered a single direction in front of her, and not her whole body. It was, for all intents and purposes, a large round shield, and she could, in theory, be disarmed if she wasn’t careful.

More Goblins shouted, and Millie pushed off the ground, sprinting away. She swung her shield arm over her shoulders, resting the shield over her back. It was awkward as hell to run like this, but the shield was anchored to the mark on her hand and she couldn’t direct it through something. Technically, one chop down between her hand and the shield would be enough to disrupt the spell, ending it completely and requiring her to recast it. That weakness was why it was best not to hold it more than a few inches from her hand. Not that it mattered that much—she could only project it out to a foot at most anyway.

A series of thrums echoed from her shield as stones and arrows rained around her. Another Goblin came sprinting out to her side, and Millie changed directions to avoid it. Glancing to her other side, she saw another enemy closing in. In front of her, the path was narrowing and she was approaching two trees that were closely spaced.

Fuck! Her eyes widened in panic. She was in trouble—her shield stopped everything, regardless of which side it took a hit from. And it was too wide for the trees. She could see now that they were herding her into a path where she’d have to drop it. The arrows and stone stopped firing as she approached, a clear sign they were taking aim and waiting for their moment to strike.

Millie eyed the Goblins to her sides, both of whom were readying themselves for her to try and break out. She could block one of them but then a volley would come her way followed by the Goblin on her opposite flank. Three potential attacks and she could only safeguard against one. Or so they think. She spat, before howling in fury at one of them and lunging. She startled the creature, which jumped back to make way but she didn’t follow through.

Instead, as it leapt backward, Millie spun, not towards her apparent target, but at the Goblin jumping at her from behind. Her shield caught it, its eyes wide as it realized she’d feinted her reckless move, and she barreled past it using its own body as cover against the archers. The Goblin firing line screamed among themselves, but Millie ignored them, diving between the two trees.

With a thought, she extinguished her shield, before crashing into the bushes. Rolling up she re-ignited it just in time to catch an arrow, and jumped back as she resumed her escape, thankful again for the numerous combat drills of the Academy. Another Goblin came careening towards her, kicking off the trees as it hurled itself forward. As much as she hated the little cretins, she couldn’t help but admire their grace. They were naturally at home in the forest and could parkour through the rugged terrain with absolute ease.

“Frost Bolt!” Millie shouted, pointing her wand downward. The shard caught the Goblin in the leg, and it landed, screaming bloody murder onto her shield. She immediately shrugged it off and spun to flee, turning a brief eye back at the creature.

I could kill it, she thought. One more Mana, just a split second and—

She was already running. A part of her would have loved to take the final shot, if for the bounty on Goblins and nothing else. But the calculating part of her mind, a part that she’d been forced to adhere to in order to survive, kept her from doing so. Yes, it would have been worth resources, but…

Out of the corner of her eyes, through the shimmering of her shield she draped over her back once more, she could see one of the archers stopping the chase to help the fallen Goblin. For all the creatures seemed to hate Magi, they were social, emotional, and cared for one another. If one was hurt, they’d prioritize their own tribemate’s survival over hunting her. It was…a bit too human, for Millie’s liking. She hated herself for knowingly going for a crippling shot specifically for that reason. She wondered if Raj and the others would judge her for that. She understood now why he hadn’t tried to justify his actions from before, but she bit back her guilt to focus on surviving.

The rest of the Goblins were still chasing her. She debated firing off more Frost Bolts, but she was already halfway through her MP, and in a wild chase like this she was far too likely to miss. Better to conserve my shots for when it counts, she thought. If I can hurt two more of them, they’ll probably give up the hunt.

Glancing around, she tried to take stock of where she was in the forest. She never ventured far from her gate specifically so she would always have a fallback point. Unfortunately, a river cut just past the small hill her safe zone was located on, and today she’d ventured beyond the waters. She’d have to cross it to escape, and she didn’t think the Goblins would wait patiently for her to find the fallen log she normally used.

More shouting from nearby threatened to distract her, the Goblins continuing to snap at her heels like wolves. Millie tried to make a change in her course to avoid another narrow path, and surprisingly the Goblins gave way to allow her. She narrowed her eyes even as her breath came out in ragged gulps, but then she heard it. The river was close.

Of course, she thought. They’ll wait to strike for when I slow down to cross. She bit her lip, a foolish decision while running that succeeded only in drawing blood, but decided she had no other choice. She’d used a specific tactic once before when being chased across the river, so the Goblins likely knew what she had planned and how long she’d slow down for. I’ll have to accept backlash then, she decided. I should be able to cast it fast enough then.

The runes took shape in her mind. Even as her side stitched up from the frantic pace, and blood flowed from not only her lip but from scratches caused by the bushes and branches she could hardly avoid, she took a familiar formation in her mind and began to expand on it for a bit of improvised magic.

She came tearing past a log, hurtling herself into the air as the Goblins slowed behind her, likely waiting the split second it would take for their archers to get into position and take the shot. She didn’t give them that second. She pointed her wand at the river, the three yards width suddenly feeling like an overwhelming obstacle, but she knew it was shallower than it appeared.

“Frost Bolt fuckery!” She shouted, the glob of glowing blue energy streaking out of her wand. It smashed into the river, but the formation she’d twisted in her mind blasted the freezing energy outward, over the surface of the river, freezing it momentarily. Millie jumped forward, before shouting “Ice Shield!”

The formation on her hand burned with rime as the Force Shield’s raw kinetic energy turned to frost. Curling midair, she then planted her feet on the shield as she pointed her foci hand downward and extended the shield as far as it could go. She snowboarded across the slick surface of the flash-frozen river in a flash. Her Mana pool drained even faster. Four Mana spent in total, one for the basic casting of Frost Bolt, two more to twist its formation, and the final going towards modifying her Attainment. Her head swam, and she could feel the blood pouring from her ears, eyes, and nostrils as the backlash took its toll in flesh, not helped by the sheer scale of magic she had pushed out, shallow river or not.

She spat blood, before dematerializing her shield, jumping forward into a dive, rolling across the riverbank, and spinning to face her rear. Her shield, back to its regular force variant, sprang up as she dismissed the improvised spell that held the river. The ice cracked loudly, before flowing free. Mana formed steam in the air as it decayed into the environment. But nothing came at her. She appeared to be safe.

She didn’t like it. She couldn’t see the Goblins. She had taken a huge risk, and there was every chance she could have taken an arrow to the back. But they were missing. Why hadn’t they at least taken potshots? The opposite bank was completely clear of foes. They had…given up the chase? It wasn’t like them at all!

Millie was gasping for air as her eyes darted back and forth. Eventually, gritting her teeth, she backed into the foliage, looking for cover. She wasn’t willing to trust in ‘good fortune,’ and would stay alert all the way back to the gate. Thankfully, she recognized this area as one she passed through frequently and walked backward, keeping her shield raised, up a small incline towards—

She yelped as a sudden snap rang out and the world spun. Her head smashed into the ground before she found herself yanked into the air by her foot. She shook her head, spinning in place as adrenaline rushed through her. Now she realized why they hadn’t given chase. They didn’t need to.

They’d set a trap for her.

Pain blossomed in her shoulder before Millie brought her shield up. Her shield arm screamed in protest, the arrow sticking out of it making it more difficult to wield her Attainment. She heard splashing as Goblins began to cross the river.

I could try to attack them, she thought. Drive them off? She dismissed the idea immediately, however. She was literally dangling in a trap—they’d never leave her alone. Besides which, she only had two Mana left, and her free hand gripped at nothing. She’d dropped her wand when she’d hit her head, and couldn’t see it. Even if she knew where it was, she couldn’t telekinesis it back like Luke Skywalker in the Hoth cave.

Instead, she looked down, or up rather, at the foot caught in the rope. She raised her free hand, grit her teeth, and accepted that what was about to happen would not be pleasant.

“Frost Bolt—Aghhhh!” She screamed in agony as an unsteady ball of frozen energy chaotically formed over her hand before it lanced up at the rope. It tore through the plant fiber and she fell, the arrow shaft snapping as the head dug in deeper into her flesh. She gasped, from shock rather than cold, as her hand curled up, blackened by frostbite. She was also out of Mana having used the rest of it on the spell—both consequences of her casting a spell without a foci to control the magic properly and efficiently.

As she stumbled to her feet, however, a Goblin came roaring towards her. She lifted her shield, but then the Goblin ducked to the side. She followed it with her eyes, keeping her shield raised forward, confused until—

She fell screaming as two arrows impacted her legs. The archers had aimed below her shield as she stood in the open. As she hit the ground, the rest of the Goblins were on her in seconds. Her cries of anger quickly turned into fear. She didn’t want to die here. She wanted to fight them off, to try harder, to drive them back, or to kill them. But she couldn’t. She was out of everything, and the flame in her heart couldn’t keep her going.

She didn’t have anything left to live for anyway.

Knives and clubs rained down on her shield. She twisted it, holding it close, but they stabbed at her legs. Burning pain shot along her thighs and calves as blood splatter darkened her transparent shield. She babbled incoherently before one of the Goblins grabbed the edge of her shield and pulled. Her guard was broken up, and one of them lifted a crude ax and dropped it.

Her shield winked out as her hand was dismembered.

She screamed in agony before a large foot came crashing down onto her chest. The air was driven out of her lungs as she looked up, wide-eyed and wheezing, as a Goblin towered over her. It sneered at her as it lifted a spear.

“Please, please don’t—”

Her words were cut off as the spear pierced her throat. She gurgled as blood filled her mouth, spilling into her lungs. She tried to cough but choked on the sanguine liquid. She watched the gloating eyes of the Goblin before her vision faded out. This was it then.

At least her son wouldn’t be alone in death any longer.

Millie came to screaming. She tore at the headset covering her, before familiar hands came down trying to help her. She saw CJ’s worried face the moment the helmet was gone, but she couldn’t hear his voice. Her legs hurt from where the Goblins had stabbed her, and she kept coughing up blood that wasn’t there. The shopkeeper stood to the side, silently watching even as Millie stumbled out of the chair and ran out of the store as fast as her pregnant body would allow.

Her hobbled flight was slow, however, and CJ easily caught up with her. But she couldn’t stop. She was shaking and coughing violently as she kept going. The pain was beginning to fade, turning into a phantom memory, but not fast enough. Not nearly fast enough. Even as she stopped, gasping for air leaning against a wall, she looked up to a reflective glass surface to see herself.

She was crying, her mouth moving as she babbled out, her dismembered hand grasping at her throat. She expected to see blood pouring out of her eyes and mouth, but nothing was there. She gasped again, dropping her head as she tried to breathe. CJ’s hand was rubbing her back. Eventually, she pushed away from the random store wall with the frostbitten hand that was fine and walked onward in a daze. CJ kept trying to talk to her but she still couldn’t hear him.

She had died. She had felt every moment. She’d thought it was real, and even now she wasn’t sure if the market area she was in was the real world or not. She kept holding onto her stomach with her blackened hand, rubbing at it as she tried to convince herself that this was reality. Her son was alive, he wasn’t—

Dead. She hadn’t failed him. She hadn’t. Had she?

She finally came to a stop at a small fountain, sitting on a bench. CJ joined her, setting their bags of useless ‘gifts’ to the side as he watched her. Slowly, she breathed in and out, letting her adrenaline run its course and for the pain to stop. It didn’t, but it was getting better. Her son kicked in her belly, upset by the sudden surge of motion. That helped more than anything else.

Eventually, she turned to CJ.

“Are you alright?” She asked him.

CJ looked at her incredulously. “Am I alright? Millie, you’ve been running around hysterically for the last ten minutes! What the fuck happened?”

He held her shoulder, but she pulled back, whimpering in pain from where the Goblin’s arrow had dug in. He looked at her shoulder, and then at his hand, with concern. Meeting his eyes, Millie was just as lost.

“Did…you not get hurt?” She asked.

CJ raised an eyebrow. “Hurt? No, I’m fine. I…oh God, did he hurt you? Is that what happened?”

CJ’s face twisted in righteous anger before Millie grabbed his hand. Her dismembered hand was trembling, which she knew wouldn’t help CJ’s mood any to notice that, but his warmth and presence was a greater balm than he knew.

“I…died,” she admitted quietly. CJ shook his head, fury and confusion waring in his eyes before Millie choked back a sob. He waited, and eventually, she continued. “I failed him, CJ. I let him die.”

“Him?” CJ looked around before he glanced down and saw how protectively Millie was holding her belly. He didn’t see the blackened hand that burned within her memory. “Millie, no that…”

Her friend bit his lip, and Millie shook her head. “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “Why would he show me that? What am I supposed to do?”

“Hey,” CJ said. “It must have been for a reason, right? What other paths did you see?”

“Paths?” Millie asked. What is he talking about?

CJ cocked his head at her, struggling to understand her. “Didn’t you see multiple options? I saw three. A time where I tried my hand at enchanting, I think, and another where I focused on some sort of archery. I was kind of bad at it, to be honest, but the third thing I saw I was pretty good at. I think it was—”

“Alchemy?” Millie said. CJ gaped at her, and she laughed. “Yeah, turns out those godly bartending skills of yours are good for more than just running a business.”

“You…saw that?” He asked.

Millie shook her head. “I didn’t see it, but I was thinking about magic and stuff while I was out on an expedition. I’m not very good at Alchemy, I guess, but I remembered that you were.”

Millie tried to explain the best she could, though she found herself staring at her disembodied hand that CJ was holding anxiously. Looking back on it, it felt morbid that she’d gone for an Attainment anchor on that hand. It was the same one the small teleportation sigil had appeared on the day her life had been stolen from her.

“I don’t understand,” CJ finally said. “You were thinking about magic and stuff during your vision?”

Millie nodded. “Yeah, you weren’t?” She laughed lightly. It seemed so odd. Did he just zone out while working or something?

CJ let go of her hand and emphatically crossed his arms. “Ah, no. I didn’t have thoughts or anything like that in the vision. I just watched it all play out like a movie. I saw things I could do, and a bit of how well I’d be at them, but that was all.”

Millie stared at him. “You…watched it. Like a movie.” Her voice was flat with disbelief.

“Yeah. But you…didn’t, did you?”

She couldn’t meet his eyes. Taking a steadying breath, she turned away and leaned forward. She loved the son growing inside her, but she resented having such a large belly right now. She really wanted to bury her head into her legs and curl up screaming. She felt CJ’s hand on her back again, rubbing it in circles.

“No, I…” she sighed. “I thought it was real. The whole thing. I felt every moment, every second. I can remember what I was thinking, and-and feeling. I can still feel the pain from where they stabbed me.”

“Who stabbed you?” CJ said, draping an arm around her and holding her tightly.

“Goblins. Orcs. Elf cannibals, I don’t know what they’re really called. No one does, but everyone seems to like calling them Goblins.”

She flailed her hands for emphasis, before coughing once more and sitting back up. CJ’s eyes bored into her.

“But you actually saw what we’ll be facing? And you have memories of magic?”

Millie nodded. “Yeah. Spellcasting sucks. You’ve got to learn all these stupid runes and formations, and each Arcanum has its own interpretation of everything.”

CJ’s mouth was hanging open as he continued to stare at her.

“What?” She asked.

“Millie—do you remember those runes at all? Do you remember the Arcanum and all that?”

Millie narrowed her eyes. “Well, yeah. I had dozens of the stupid things memorized. And the Arcanum isn’t so hard to remember, there’s ten of them split into related pairs.”

She lifted her no-longer-blackened hand and began to count them down. “Genetis and Entropia, Axiom and Ataxia, Primus and Materia, Animus and Psyche, and finally Aether and Void. But it’s all stupid, really. It’s just the paradigm of this place. A way to break apart magic to make it easier to approach. The bitch of it is formations—the ways you arrange runes to make them actually do something. Catherine told me that—er, why are you smiling?”

She looked at her friend in confusion.

“Millie—you fucking know magic and you don’t even realize it!” He laughed loudly.

“What?” She blinked. “I don’t know magic, I can’t cast anything without Mana anyway! I just know…er, the basics I guess?”

Now that she thought about it, she realized that was exactly what it was. The basics—the first two weeks of instruction for the school. Crammed into her head.

“Millie, that’s a head start on all of us! Don’t you see that?”

“So? What does it matter?” She scoffed. “I have to wait for my son before I can start. At best this puts me in place with the rest of you. Meanwhile, you got, what, triple vision or whatever?”

CJ shook his head, smiling. “Fortune’s Guiding Star, but yeah, I guess that only evens things out for you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, at best. Not that it’ll matter, I’ll probably forget it all before classes begin anyway.”

CJ sighed. “Millie, you won’t forget. You’ll—”

She laughed sardonically. “Of course I will, CJ. I’m not smart like you, or Tanya, or hell—Liam. I’ve always been the idiot in our group.”

“Millie, you’re not an idiot. Don’t say things like that!”

“Of course I’m a fucking idiot, CJ! Check my soul scroll if you don’t believe me. Aside from my fucking willpower, all my mental stats are below average. Even my magic is going to be below average. I’m shit at all of this!”

“Hey!” CJ grabbed her, forcing her to look at him. “You are not shit. At this, or at anything. So what if you have to work harder to keep up? That’s literally never stopped you before. With anything!”

She met his eyes and sighed. “Right, which is why I bombed my SATs and couldn’t join you all in college. Hard work really paid off there.”

CJ let out a breath of frustration. “Really, Millie? Are you going to honestly say to me you were trying your hardest there? Even then the only thing on your mind was…”

He trailed off, letting the sentence die as he turned away. The only thing I’d thought about during school was getting married to Liam and starting our life, she silently finished. He’s not wrong I didn’t try my hardest. Doesn’t make me feel any better given how things turned out now though.

“Look, I know you’re upset,” he said. “I can’t imagine how that vision must have felt, but Millie. You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” She said, glaring at him.

He turned to meet her eyes. “Tearing yourself down like this. You never used to be like this. Hell, the Millie from a year ago probably would have smacked you over the head for being like this.”

“Yeah, well, the Millie from a year ago had a fiance and a future. Now I have…this.”

She gestured at the alien school around them, both hands throbbing with pain for two different reasons.

“So what?” CJ said. “Are you going to just give up?”

“What am I supposed to do, CJ? I saw my future. I fail. I fail at everything.”

“How do you know that’s what’s going to happen? Maybe it’s just one possibility!”

She side-eyed him before shaking her head. “What’s it matter? I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. I just…I want to go home.”

CJ sucked in air, before breathing out slowly. He grabbed her shoulders again, ignoring how she winced in pain.

“I know that Millie. I bet there isn’t any sane person in this damn city that doesn’t feel the same. But you can’t just give up. Is this how you want it to end?”

His eyes were wet, tears threatening to spill out. She met them in silence, his phrase sparking a painful memory.

“CJ! CJ! Open the door! CJ!” I pound against the wood, hearing the echoes in the bathroom beyond. I can hear my friend crying, and I try the handle again but it’s still locked.

“...I can’t,” I hear his faint voice. “I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to go back.” He’s sobbing on the other side. I run my hands against the grain on the door, gritting my teeth. I shouldn’t have suggested we drink, but I’d wanted to help him forget things, if just for one night.

“I’ll be okay, CJ. Please, open the door. Please.” I beg him. I’m scared. He disappeared so quickly, just getting up and grabbing a kitchen knife before locking himself in the bathroom. I thought the night had been going well. I should have known better. I should have known my best friend better, damn it!

“Millie…” I hear his voice, growing fainter. My heart is dying along with him.

“CJ! We can fix this, okay? We’ll find someone who’ll listen, we—”

“And then what?” His weak voice spat out. “The whole school finds out I’m a faggot getting diddled by my step-dad? I…can’t. I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to…”

I clench my teeth and pound on the door again. I hate that word so much. I hate everyone who has ever used it to hurt someone. I hate the pain laced in his voice, the agony in his eyes, the sorrow in every breath, every day. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been sent to the principles because of the fights I’ve started over the fuckwads who’ve bullied him. I think I’ll have detention until the day I die.

“Please, CJ. They don’t matter. Your dad doesn’t matter. You matter. Please! Is this how you want it to end!”

I scream the words with all my might. Silence descends in its wake. Finally, I hear his words. They’re almost a whisper.

“...no. P-please…Millie…”

“CJ, open the door and I can—” I pause when I see the crimson seeping below the door. I can’t hear him moving. Is he—

No. No, I won’t let this happen. I won’t let this happen. I scream as loud as I can before stepping back. I kick the door as hard as I can, cursing the sturdy structure. My father will be furious for so many reasons later, but I don’t care. I won’t let this happen.

I kick again and again. My leg is screaming with me, agony in the bones to match my soul, but I don’t care. I break the door down. Limping into the bathroom, I see him, the knife dropped to the side. He’s so pale, so small, but his eyes lookup as he lays on the floor. Empty save for the smallest ember of hope.

I’m already dialing 911. I confess everything to them and follow their instructions to make a tourniquet. I hold my broken friend together until help shows up, praying to a god I don’t believe in for one moment of mercy.

Millie looked away, blinking back tears. She glanced back briefly to CJ’s arm, where she knew a scar remained. For a long time, the boy had hidden it, behind bracelets and sleeves. But eventually, he had beaten his demons. He’d become one of the strongest people she knew.

And he was right. She hadn’t been the same since she’d broken up with Liam. She’d fallen apart, giving up on everything. She’d been angry and bitter, lashing out at everyone, even him. Magincia hadn’t helped any, but even then. That wasn’t an excuse.

“No, it isn't,” she answered finally. “Please.”

He squeezed her disembodied hand, the sensation distant and alien, but she ignored it. It wasn’t real. This was. He was.

“Then missy, stop with the pity parties. Okay?”

He laughed, even as his tears spilled out. Millie couldn’t stop hers as she nodded, and hugged him tightly. The two held each other for a long time.

Finally, CJ pulled away, wiping at his face. “So yeah, sounds like your vision sucked major balls.”

Millie laughed. “Yeah, but hey I got a free book out of it. That’s better than a t-shirt, right?”

CJ nodded in agreement, before pausing. “Hey, maybe your vision means you can use the stuff he gave you?” He quickly dug through their bags to pull out the book and the cards.

Millie rolled her eyes, she was pretty sure she knew the usefulness of the items already but realized CJ wouldn’t. She took the items he offered her, before opening the deck of cards. The artwork was surprisingly beautiful, but as her eyes roamed over them she paused.

“Yeah, I thought so,” she said. “These are foci. See these markings behind the pictures? Those are runes. I can’t read them, which feels weird right now, but they’re probably related to the symbology of the card. Divination is like that.”

“Isn’t that useful then?” He asked.

Millie tsked. “Sort of? Foci…if I remember right cost maybe one hundred resources for tier-one gear? But I can’t trade these in for value since they’re gifts. While they’ll help with casting spells, it’ll only be for divination formations. I didn’t study divination, so it’s all new to me, so it’s not that useful.”

CJ chuckled. “Here you didn’t even know what augury meant and you’re trying to tell me you don’t see the use in divination. You do realize how silly that sounds, right?”

Millie gaped at him, before closing her mouth. “Okay, I guess I see your point. The Fortune-Teller showed me a vision, and now I have memories of the future. Divination may be…kind of useful after all. Maybe I can learn to do the same? Well, I know I won’t be able to do anything that fancy anytime soon, but I could probably learn something useful. Well, if I can find formations for it.”

She scoffed, and CJ cocked his head. “Well, what about the book? Maybe it has formations in it or something.”

Millie looked at her friend like he was an idiot. Which, she realized, was unfair. She was the one with knowledge on the subject, he was just learning. She cleared her throat, before shaking her head.

“It might have one in it, maybe, but it would be hidden behind allegory and riddles. Formations are highly guarded and we’ll be running our asses off trying to earn enough resources to buy more. They’re basically the blueprints to spells.”

“But isn’t this a school? Shouldn’t they be dropping this shit on us in spades?” CJ laughed again, and Millie couldn’t help but agree.

“They should, but they…don’t? I don’t know why. I didn’t think about it in the vision, so I guess we’ll still have to figure that out. I assume they’re just gatekeeping us or something stupid like that.”

CJ grimaced, before nodding in agreement. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Turning back to her book, though, Millie flipped it open and scanned through the contents. Most of it, written largely in English with only a smattering of the First Language, was useless to her. She could tell even with a brief perusal that it really was just a beginner’s guide to the Tarot, explaining the symbology and running through various card spreads. It could have a formation hidden in there, but she’d need time to scour it and would need to be remedied first.

“Doesn’t look like there’s anything—” She paused as she checked the table of contents. It itself didn’t catch her attention, but as she’d flipped past she’d noticed something. The book appeared to be machine printed, but just next to the contents was a foreword with a handwritten note.

To the Unluckiest Student,

I apologize in advance, or I suppose after the fact now, for what must have been a terrible experience. However, my Conditions being met means I will have bestowed upon you my greatest gift. I know it may not seem that way, Thomas, but I—wait, not him. Rebecca? No. Ah, yes, Millie. Of course! Apologies. Anyway, I know it may not seem that way, Millie, but you deserve this gift. You will understand sooner or never, but my Condition was simple so odds are in your favor.

To the one dealt the most difficult hand a glimpse of truth to balance the scales. Nothing you have learned is a secret, and in fact, they are all things you will learn in the coming weeks. You’ve just gotten…a head start. I believe your friend, Initiate Johnson will say much the same. Regardless, perhaps this knowledge will help counter the fact that you will be starting late due to your child. I hope you will bring him by when he is older, he may have his father’s looks but he has your eyes. And tenacity, much to all our amusement.

Ah! Of course, you are probably wondering why I showed you a vision of you at your lowest point, rather than giving you the answer you truly sought. The truth is, we each are restricted in what we can offer, and the answer you seek can be found elsewhere. I chose to give you something more…timely. I hope you will discover why before it’s too late. Best of luck, Initiate McArthur.

Sincerely,

Your friend the ‘Fortune-Teller’

P.S. I’m glad you went with frost over flame in this line, but don’t be afraid to experiment. Many of the formations for basic elemental bolts can be easily interchanged.

Fresh tears splattered against the page.

“He…has my eyes?” Millie whispered. Her voice was shaking.

Looking up, she saw CJ staring open-mouthed at the note, before meeting her gaze.

“See?” He said. “I told you it wasn’t guaranteed. I know you said in that vision that you didn’t…save him, but if the Fortune-Teller said that in this note—then clearly there are multiple ways things can go down. There’s still a chance, Millie.”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “You’re right. I guess...wait, I went with fire bolts in a different timeline?”

“I mean, fire does seem your style,” CJ said, chuckling. “But that’s probably why he pointed that out and emphasized your choice in the matter. He’s reaffirming that what happens is still up to us.”

Millie gripped her cold hand tightly. Should she explain to CJ why she hated the Rune of Fire? No, he’d probably ask about Alchemy and I don’t want to get in on that, she thought. Stupid inner flame bullcrap.

Instead, she shrugged and said, “At least we know where to look for an answer.”

CJ sighed. “Let me guess—the Archives?”

“The Archives,” Millie repeated. Practically every robot had told them that same line anytime they asked a question outside the scope of their store.

“Well,” he said, “guess I’ll have to chug the pill when we get back. Maybe we can check with D’marco, since he’s already taken it?”

Millie nodded, tracing a hand against the spin of the book. She mumbled an agreement, as she re-read the note. A frown crossed her face, as she re-read it again.

“What is it?” CJ prompted her.

“I…did you notice how he capitalized condition?” She asked. CJ looked over her shoulder and nodded.

“Ah, yeah, kind of weird for him to do, but what of it?”

She chewed on her lip, grateful again to not taste any blood before she snapped the book closed.

“The potion guy gave his potion to the first person who came by, but what did he say about it?”

CJ scratched his head. “Hmm, didn’t he say it was the first one he’d made? He offered us discounts for the rest of the week as our Hospitality gift, but asked us to come by later when he built up his stock.”

Millie nodded. “The first potion to the first student. We didn’t think of it at the time, but now looking at this—CJ, what if every store has some sort of hidden condition for getting a gift? A real gift, I mean.”

CJ’s eyes lit up. “Holy fuck that would…of course they’d have hidden quests.”

“Hidden…quests? Really?” Millie said with a deadpanned voice, but CJ waved her off.

“Why not? It makes as much sense as attributes and spells. Fuck, if we could figure out what the other store’s conditions are, we could be bogged down in loot.”

She could see greed dancing in his eyes, and she chuckled. “We don’t have any proof it’s all the stores, it’s just a thought.”

“Hey, it’s a thought I’m happy to explore.” He said, smiling.

Millie rolled her eyes, before looking back down at the book. Her thoughts were working slowly but steadily in her mind. Conditions and prizes, oddities all. A few details stood out the more she pondered them.

“I know that look,” CJ said. “What is it? Did you think of something?”

Millie fidgeted. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Hey, spill the beans magic girl, what did you think of?”

“Magic girl? Really?” CJ just waved her off again, and she rolled her eyes again before answering. “I just…I thought it was kind of strange how all the robots were acting at the pill counter.”

“Strange? How so?” CJ leaned in closer, excitement growing on his face.

“Well…didn’t you notice how only one of them was actually working? None of the others did anything except stand around. That one sales bot was running the whole place.”

“Do you think they might all have some secret condition? Like a password for hidden loot?”

Her friend was practically salivating, making her laugh. “I don’t know. But…maybe we can take another look?”

CJ nodded emphatically, before picking up the bags.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” He offered her a hand.

Millie paused, staring at his hand.

This day had not gone as planned. She had thankfully calmed down, and the memories of the vision felt like they were distancing rapidly in her mind. The more she considered it, the more it now felt like it had happened to another person. An experience she’d been close to, but was finding it easier to break from. Even still, she was grateful for CJ’s exuberance. His excitement that she might have discovered some great secret infected her with…hope.

Such a strange thing to have. She’d died, having failed to save her son, feeling grateful at the end for it all to be over. But now she felt…

Like I can change this, she thought. Like it’s not too late. Maybe it was just the fact that she believed now that there was a future where she succeeded. Or maybe…it was because she felt like she had something to offer her friend. If her experience had given her anything, it was knowledge she could share. With CJ, and maybe…with the rest of the class.

She felt in her future memories that she’d pushed them away. With how she’d been acting since they’d met her, that wasn’t surprising. Millie deeply regretted accusing Raj now, in front of everyone as she had. She’d told him she was grateful all while treating him like dirt. But it wasn’t too late to fix things. Maybe she could find a way to bring the class together, and maybe they would help her in the Archives? She didn’t have to be alone. Maybe she could learn to be her old self again too.

And so, she reached up and took the hand that was offered to her.