Following the Battle of Dangole, Sigrid found herself in the awkward position of trying to extricate herself from a role she’d stepped into unknowingly. When Tooms and the Mayor had both fallen defending the town, she had stepped in to fill the gap simply because orders needed to be given and no one else seemed to be doing it. Now, with cleanup underway, she was finding the villagers, bringing her their problems, and asking questions she had no business trying to answer. What about their homes? When were they going to do funerals? How soon could they expect their lives to go back to normal? Her one saving grace was that Kiran had stepped up to become the new commander of the Monster Hunters and removed the burden. None of the villagers seemed willing or ready to take over as the mayor, and she had yet to find the time to ask after how that was normally managed.

Her role also meant she was caught serving as the face of the village when it came to their rescuers. The group of Mages who had swept in to save them from the overwhelming tide of qek, and while Erin was mistrustful of their leader, Sigrid could not quickly forget the fact that without them, they’d all be dead. As the days had passed, Erin, Liam and Arthur all seemed to become more uneasy as the group began to make impossible promises to the villagers. They could give them magic, turn them into Mages. Teach them how to look after themselves. They’d never have to fear monster attacks again. Sigrid knew it couldn’t be done, and Erin and Liam agreed. Sigrid was the only one of them who question where that certainty came from, and she didn’t raise the question with the other two. Impossible or not, she wanted to understand what was happening for herself. So she sought out Serra for a meeting, to which the Mage was more than willing to agree.

“So tell me about these promises you’re making to the villagers.” Sigrid said as she sat in a chair across from Serra. The woman had set up a tent to function as some sort of laboratory office combination. Though Sigrid didn’t recognize any of the objects on the tables, or the substances in vials and flasks.

“You certainly do not hold back.” Serra said with a chuckle, seating herself behind her desk and shifting some papers to the side. The bald mage clasped her hands together and leaned forward on her elbows, looking intently into Sigrid’s eyes. “What do you want to know exactly?”

“Can you do it?”

“Ah, of course.” Serra said with a nod. “That is the first question a Mage would ask. Should ask even. You no doubt feel very certain that what we’re promising is not possible. I should have expected you would be skeptical.” Sigrid said nothing, but crossed her legs at the knee, relaxing back into her chair and folding her arms. “Well, that certainty is false,” Serra carried on. “You are being manipulated by The System. I’m sure you recall what that is.” Sigrid shrugged, her foot bouncing as she met Serra’s gaze. She knew alright. Many people would probably view the System as some sort of God, but Sigrid didn’t think that was correct. The System was more like The Rules, hard-coded into reality. A force not even the gods could rise above.

“Well,” Serra continued when Sigrid remained silent. “The System is false. It would have us believe we can’t escape the bounds it has set. That we must follow the paths it has laid out for us. That every lives limitations are defined at birth, and that only death can see us truly change. Me and my companions have learned this to be false.

“So you can turn First Tiers into Mages?” Sigrid asked directly, as keeping her focus on the topic. Serra was leaning forward, the flush in her cheeks visible even through her amber complexion as her eyes held the light of fervor. This railing against the System had the flavor of a religious belief to Sigrid, which was not the conversation she had come here to have.

“After a fashion.” Serra said after taking a breath and settling back into her chair, composing herself once more. “The process is experimental, but we’ve made substantial progress. We can’t make them into proper Second Tiers, yet, but we can enhance their souls to better bear the burden of Magic. Some people with me in this camp are products of this process.”

“What are the drawbacks?” Sigrid knew what words like ‘experimental’ meant in these situations. Serra shrugged, clearly unconcerned.

“They’re minimal. The subjects aren’t able to absorb a full allotment of spells. So far, only two. This means their growth is limited for the time being, but as I said. We’re making progress. I expect we’ll be able to advance their souls to opening up a third spell slot in the near future.”

Sigrid’s stomach turned at the thought of what Serra was talking about. The idea of what a soul still housed in a body would have to go through in order to rise a tier revolted her. Sigrid clamped down on that feeling and examined it. She knew she didn’t know anything about the process. The one that had changed her after her death, or the one that Serra spoke of. So why should she have such potent feelings about it? Sigrid supposed there was at least a kernel of truth in what Serra had told her. The System had placed certain reactions and feelings on them. Sigrid kept her expression carefully neutral, but as if Serra had been following her thoughts, she spoke.

“The idea that we can’t uplift First Tiers, the belief that it’s wrong to do so. All fabricated by some vast, cosmic entity to keep those below it in line. So you have to wonder, don’t you? You have to ask yourself? What other lies have we been told to tell ourselves?” The zeal was back, and Serra’s eyes practically glowed with the heat of her belief. “That we have to die to grow? That we’re trapped here in this world? That we can never go home?”

Sigrid’s stomach was a lead weight, her skin like ice. Her thoughts zipped around as her heart skipped a beat. Was Serra implying what Sigrid thought? The knowledge that she could never return to her world and her family was concrete. She could feel it, like the words had been etched into her bones. It was an indisputable fact. Sigrid held her composure as Serra watched her, but Sigrid suspected Serra could guess what she was thinking.

“Are you saying you’ve found a way to travel between worlds?”

“Not yet.” Serra admitted freely. “But we have promising avenues of research. It’s only a matter of time until we find a way. That is our mission. The one goal we pursue above all others. To go home.”

“Well, it sounds nice.” Sigrid said evenly, “My people are just a little concerned about your intentions for the villagers.”

“You mean Erin.” Serra said, sitting back and rubbing her chin thoughtfully. Sigrid didn’t confirm or deny the assumption. It was true that Erin didn’t like Serra or her people, but she wasn’t the only one who was suspicious, and for the time being at least, Sigrid was the one responsible for the villagers. She hadn’t asked to be the temporary mayor, but as long as she was, she would look out for them.

“Her concerns are unwarranted. We’re not here to force anyone to do anything.” Serra held her hands up, palms out as if to show her peaceful intentions. “We just want to give people the opportunity to decide for themselves.”

“Are there risks involved in this procedure?” Sigrid asked, and Serra frowned only the slightest bit.

“There are.” She said reluctantly. “It’s a difficult thing to do, and it’s dangerous for everyone involved.”

“Dangerous how?”

“Death,” Serra said with a shrug. “The person performing the magic can die as easily as the subject. It requires a vast amount of power and very precise control. If it were a simple and safe thing, it wouldn’t have taken this long for someone to figure it out.”

While Sigrid couldn’t deny the reasoning, she was more than a little concerned by Serra’s flippant attitude about the risk. Especially if her goal was to get people in Sigrid's charge to submit themselves to the process.

“I appreciate what you’re getting at Serra, but I don't’ think now is the time to be encouraging the people of Dangole to submit themselves to something so risky.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the village just barely survived a horrifying event.”

“Thanks to us,” Serra cut in.

“Yes,” Sigrid agreed. “Thanks to you. Still, they’ve been through a lot and they need time to put their lives back together before you begin trying to convince them to do something that could cause their deaths.”

“Now is the perfect time. They’ve stared into the jaws of death and survived. It is at this moment they can most clearly see they need the power we’re offering.”

“No,” Sigrid disagreed, still calm and composed despite Serra’s growing heat. “They’re traumatized and frightened. They’re much more likely to make an irrational choice than if they’d had more time to process what they’ve been through. I can’t condone it.” Sigrid watched Serra carefully at these words, and she could see that the bald Mage wanted to lash out. From Serra’s perspective, she was holding all the cards. For the villagers she was their savior, she had a band of Mages at her disposal with many useful abilities, and they endeared themselves to the locals with all the above. Whether Sigrid would condone it, there was nothing she could do to stop Serra from saying whatever she wanted to the villagers, and they both knew it. Yet despite all that, Serra sat back in her chair and let the anger drain away.

“You’re right.” She admitted, and Sigrid was taken aback. Not enough to let it show on her face, which was still schooled to blankness, but she had to admit to herself that she hadn’t seen that coming. “You’re right.” Serra repeated. “Now is not the time. You’ll have to forgive me. These have been our goals for so long that to speak of them has become second nature. I will put a stop to any more such talk until Dangole is back on its feet.”

“I appreciate that,” Sigrid said sincerely. The tightness in her chest loosening.

“I do have one request,” Serra added, and Sigrid hesitated only a second before nodding.

“What is it?”

“I’d like to discuss the possibility of working together at a later date. I think you could be a person of value to our group.”

“In what capacity?” Sigrid asked, curious.

“Travelling between worlds. Returning to the people we lost when the System trapped us here.” Sigrid’s heart skipped a beat, and it took a force of will to stay focused. A part of her had been looking for even a sliver of hope that returning home might be possible, but she hadn’t dared to believe it could be possible. For the moment, she decided now was not the time to breathe life into that hope.

“We’ll talk again when Dangole is settled.” Sigrid told her, as she uncrossed her legs and pushed herself to her feet. “I’m sorry if I seem ungrateful. I’m just trying to do what’s best for the people here.”

“I understand,” Serra said, as she too rose. “We’ll wait to speak on the matter with the villagers. We’re just a very… focused organization.”

“Thank you,” Sigrid said, and then made her goodbyes and left the tent. Her mind was awash with uncomfortable thoughts. Her entire being rejected the idea that there might be a way home, but a part of her couldn’t help but hope that the System was indeed lying to her.

“How’d it go?” Erin asked, jogging up to her side from where she’d finished helping some villagers throw pieces of debris into a pile.

“They’ve agreed to stop talking about turning people into Mages for the time being. At least until the village is settled.”

“Did she say they can really do it?”

“She did.”

Erin was silent for several seconds as she looked over at a group of the nearby Mages.

“I still don’t like it.”

Sigrid merely grunted as a reply, her thoughts still racing. What if she could go home? If there was a chance, she could see her children again, if she could return to her family. What would she do to make that happen?