How much time had passed?

Ten minutes?

Ten years?

Keldon couldn’t tell. Consciousness evaded his grasp like loose sand, slipping through his fingers. Yet, somehow, he had thought.

Occasionally.

Was Bertram okay?

“Just this once, let me have done something right.” thought Keldon into nothingness.

Wait. If he was nothing. How could he think?

Strange.

Keldon tried to open his eyes.

Slowly, Keldon began to blink back to consciousness. Something wasn’t right though. Where was the open sky? But, instead of the fading purple hues of twilight, Keldon was met with a cold stone ceiling and the familiar musky scent of wood glue bookbinding. Keldon pulled himself upwards, looking around him. It seemed like he was no longer in the glades of Deeproot woods but rather, in a small cozy room, filled with stacks of tomes.

“ Where am I…” Keldon thought, looking at his surroundings. Looking around the room brought back recent memories, Bertram battling, Keldon trying to pull the other new recruit members to safety, and the terrible Aberrant. However, of all the memories, the most vivid was the feeling of raw and utter power. His arm throbbed at the thought of the wild terror and bewilderment he’d experienced.

“Nothing.” Keldon thought, examining his right arm. His arms seemed perfectly fine now, but he remembered the searing white-hot pain of the mutilation. Something absolute gripped his hands and pulled him towards something beyond his comprehension. The memories had fragmented beyond that moment, but what Keldon did remember was speaking some sort of name, he'd called to something… someone…and whatever it was, it gave him strength. And as freely as it was given, it was taken away. He couldn’t remember how who, or why it really happened but he was almost certain he knew a what.

“Magic…” Keldon whispered to himself. The floodgate of emotions and questions burst open, overwhelming him with thoughts and feelings. What sort of magic was that? How did he even acquire it? How long has he had this power? Why did it trigger now? And not to mention, the sheer relief he felt knowing that he could actually use SOME sort of magic. But the mix of joy, relief, anxiety, and tension he felt was shadowed by the problem that loomed over his mind.

It was illegal.

It was 74 years ago, by decree of the First Prime Emperor, Sun-K’aal-Sun, Illuminator of the Veil, the right hand of the Archon, and the father of the nation’s modern magic, that magic which not created by his hand and mind, are verboten under his name.

However, he didn't have the luxury of contemplating what even got him to his newfound strength or how he was going to hide it. First of all, he still had no idea where he was. He steeled himself.

“It doesn’t seem like any sort of field hospital, unfortunately,” Keldon thought. No sound of overworked field doctors running about, no strong stenches of antiseptics, and he certainly didn’t hear any noise from any tar-eyed folk or rowdy patients. Couldn’t be, It was far too quiet for that.

“So… Am I dead?” Keldon thought, looking around the room. “Well no, most likely not, I was much closer to death just a few minutes ago.”

Keldon glanced over the stacks of old tomes. Most of which he had never even heard the names of, much less have read.

“This isn’t Old Man Mortimer’s storage room either. Far too many unread old tomes. He’d usually let me read whatever I wanted as long as I helped him out around the shop. Plus, how would I even have gotten here?” Keldon said aloud, picking up a nearby book to inspect it. The leather-bound book was falling apart at the edges, someone wasn't properly taking care of them it seemed. Its pages were yellowed and the seams were unraveling in his hands. He inspected the fraying book, turning it over.

The front cover was dusty and scrawled with letters, or at least he thought they were letters. He flipped the book open, looking for any discernible letters or pictures. However, despite his best attempts, Keldon couldn’t identify where the language originated from.

“Strange, It at least seems like the structure of the language is similar to the syntax of old common-tongue, but the glyphs of the words don’t make any sense. I see multiple instances of the same symbols used multiple times in a row.” Keldon thought, flipping quickly through the pages.

He desperately wanted to pore over the mountains of beautiful texts, carefully deconstructing each and every syllable, phenome, and bits of the syntax that he could find. However, his curiosity had to wait.

“Where am I?”

The room was relatively dark, only lit by the orange light of a lamp that hung above the bed. A small desk, piled with stacks of loose paper and jars of ink sat in the corner of the room opposing a wooden door with a lock, astonishingly unremarkable for a room full of what Keldon could only possibly imagine as ancient tomes.

As Keldon’s eyes swept the room, he looked down at his clothing to see it had been changed. Replacing his previously bloodied dress clothes was a simple navy robe with long embroidered sleeves that extended to his wrists. And stitched within the inner lining of the robe, was a glimmering golden weave that shimmered in a strange undulating pattern.

Keldon spun around, inspecting the rest of the robe he wore. The item was woven out of material that he couldn’t recognize but could tell that it was well-made. The clothes bore signs of aging but remained free from fray and tears. He looked around the room, spotting a small hand mirror by a tiny dresser at the feet of the bed. Unsure as of what he’d see, Keldon hesitated for a second before peeking at his reflection

He looked normal, Keldon thought, relaxing as he loosened up his shoulders. He was worried that perhaps this had been some sort of traumatic hallucination played just before his death. But, as Keldon was inspecting himself in the mirror, he heard a noise from behind the wooden door.

Keldon froze in place, fear raising his hairs on end as he stared at the door. He wasn’t alone.

Slowly, he crept up to the door. Keldon took a deep breath and placed his ear on the wooden door.

Nothing.

Keldon stared at the door handle, his hand shaking as he reached out to it. The brass doorknob was cool to the touch. Carefully, trying not to let the doorknob squeak, he creaked open the door. However, rather than being greeted by plain stone hallways, he was met with a long narrow wooden bridge that was connected to another floor level overhead. To his sides was a walkway, with several other doors similar to the one he just came out of and a railing to the other side. The architectural design was similar to tower labyrinths, or at least he thought it was. Keldon had never seen one himself; books about the outside world were oftentimes scarce in small communities like the ones Keldon grew up in.

A vast array of wooden bridges connected the different levels of floors. There were twelve different floor levels, each with its own set of connecting bridges, doors, and hallways. The seemingly endless maze of bridges all hung over an open-spaced reception area down below as light poured through a dome overhead. However, Keldon didn’t really have time to appreciate the beauty of the scenery, As he surveyed his environment, he noticed something slinking in the shadows above. An unfortunately familiar figure crawled along the underbelly of a bridge overhead, skittering underneath the bridge. The hair-raising rhythmic clicks pierced the air as Keldon ducked behind a nearby support pillar, trying to hide from his terrifying acquaintance.

“These things again??!” Keldon thought, staring into the creatures back, hoping that somehow it would drop dead if he willed it away hard enough. But no such luck. However, while the creature was skittering about, luckily for Keldon, something caught its attention when suddenly it barreled down a nearby hallway, clicks fading into the distance.

“ Thank the G-“ said Keldon, then something covered his mouth and pulled him into one of the rooms. Keldon struggled before he was quickly shushed by a soft voice in his right ear.

“ Shh, it’s just me, Raul, calm yourself. You need to keep your voice down, Devoidlings are still skulking about.” said the voice.

Keldon slowly stopped flailing and turned around to see a red-haired young man who looked like he was either thirteen or thirty. He bore the same style of the garment as Keldon, though he looked a little too large for his spindly body.

“Bless the eight, you’re alright Jeb,” Raul said, holding Keldon by the shoulders. “Any cuts or wounds? Broken bones? I assume you can at least move judging by your poor attempt at skulking around.”

“Oh uh.. yeah. Jeb?” Keldon asked, before quickly shutting his mouth.

Raul shifted from a look of concern to slight confusion.

“Uh... Sorry, I tripped when I was running away and I hit my head so my head is still kind of hazy.” Keldon lied, hoping that Raul wouldn’t pursue the matter any further.

“We’ll try to get you checked out as soon as possible when we get to the shelters then,” said Raul, picking Keldon up by the hand and moving towards the door. “For now, let’s get out of here”

Raul crept out the room, motioning for Keldon to follow behind as they both snaked down the eerie winding hallways. The air hung heavily upon the two as they moved through the long corridors. The building…no. Library? Monastery? Whatever it was, it was a mess. Royal Black and gold drapes littered the ground in shreds, dried black blood stained the walls while death’s scent danced throughout the still halls, fighting for Keldon’s attention against the threat death itself presented from the skittering Devoidlings.

“So, what’s-“ said Keldon as he began to speak.

Raul whipped around, furrowing his brow and holding his finger up in front of his lips to shush Keldon.

Keldon quickly shut his mouth, nodding his head. Satisfied by the response, Raul crept forward; turning the corner and creaking open the door on his left.

He turned back and nodded, gently opening the door as he slunk into the room with Keldon trailing behind.

But as they snuck into the room, the first sight stole Keldon's breath away. The first thing he noticed was the air lingered gently with the scent of cinnamon and cloves. Long stretches of masterfully carved wooden dining table stretched row by row in neat lines. Deep black arches lined the ceiling, glimmering with small gems, which sparkled from the natural sunlight.

To Keldon, this was the grandest dining hall he had ever seen, living the last few years in the hissings, most of the men- and the occasional woman- ate outside of the mess tent, typically eating whatever meals they had brought from home or purchasing shoddy gruel using a portion of their day’s meager earnings. They ate facing the brunt of the weather, seasoned with the stench of sweat and a touch or ten of Hissing’s smoke. Not to mention, the gruelmaster cooked how he looked as if his taste buds had curled up and died along with his sense of humor.

“Jeb, c’mon! What are you gawking for? We need to grab rations and get going!” hissed Raul, who had already made his way down the exquisite mess hall.

Keldon followed Raul to the back of the hall where they entered into a meal preparation area. From small to human-sized, pots and pans were hung on the wall in neat rows, as the embers from a once roaring flame smoldered in the pits of the enormous brick oven at the back of the room. However, other than the cookware, the room was empty. Bare sacks of grain littered the floor as the iced box room door laid open, empty barring a few rotten pieces of smashed fruit on the floor.

Raul began scouring the room, feeling at the floor tiles on the ground as Keldon stood by the door awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“So um… Raul? What should I do?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Raul muttered.

“…What?”

“Don’t say it like you don’t know who I am!” said Raul, turning around defiantly.

“I’m your brother damn it all! We’re all we have left!

Mom, Pa, Uncle Denza, Old man Winkle, they’re all fucking dead. All of them were swept up in the Onslaught of Dust. So don’t you fucking dare act like you don’t know who I am! This isn’t the time for jokes Jeb. ”

Frustration and sorrow finally leaked through his steady persona. Tears welled up in Raul’s eyes and Keldon saw the sheer amount of emotional strength it took for him to fight them back. That’s when the weight of this dream finally hit Keldon. The families torn asunder, the lives decimated, and the insurmountable amounts of pain and misery caused by whatever was going on here felt so real that this couldn’t have been something that he was just imagining.

Could it have been?

“I-I’m sorry, Raul.” Said Keldon looking down at his feet, he didn’t know how to properly respond to his burst of emotion.

Raul reeled himself back in, quickly turning back around to search the floor.

“Sorry Jeb, that was unfair of me. You’re unwell.

We’ll see to it when we get back to the shelter. For now, just help me search for a loose tile. The cook usually kept his own stash of goodies somewhere separate from the rest of the pantry.”

Keldon paused for a moment, nodded, and got on his knees, feeling around the floor’s greasy tiles for any wobbles or shakes.

He needed to know what was going on here. He’s had too many coincidences in these dreams repeat themselves for it to be a coincidence. There had to be something more to all of this than just repeated nightmares from Hissing smoke.

After another few minutes of awkward silence and searching, Keldon felt a small wobble from underneath his fingertips. He tried to pry up the tile but his fingers were too slippery from the grease.

“Raul, I found something. Help me out.”

Raul scurried over, as the two of them struggled to lift the tile before finally pulling it over with some considerable effort.

Raul and Jeb (Keldon) fell backward, back sore, and tired from crawling around bent over as they looked at one another. Raul smiled.

“We’ll be okay,” Raul said with a nod. Keldon nodded back as Raul looked down into the crevice to discover that at the bottom was a small burlap sack. In the sack were links of sausages, coffee beans, chunks of dark chocolate, dried biscuits, and a small wheel of cheese. Raul grinned at Keldon, tied up the bag, and swung it over his shoulder.

“Alright, let’s get goi-“

*click* *click* *click*

Keldon’s blood ran cold as both he and Raul leaped behind the counter of the kitchen island. He looked over to see Raul clutching the burlap sack of food tightly in his chest as he leaned over the island to look at the door.

*click* *click* *click*

*click* *click* *click*

Then silence.

Pinned against the kitchen island, they waited with bated breath. Keldon could hear the blood pumping in his ears as his heart leaped out of his chest, pounding against his ribcage.

One minute.

Two minutes.

A few minutes had passed but there was nothing else, It was far too silent. Keldon exchanged worried looks with Raul.

“Are they still there? “ whispered Keldon

Raul shrugged his shoulders, then slowly crept towards the door, placing his head on the floor. Keldon watched as he peeked under the crack for a few seconds and carefully crawled back, looking at Keldon with a grim expression on his face.

The two of them sat quietly for a few moments, taking in the gravity of the situation.

“I need to figure out where I am, or what’s even going on here. I can’t just die here, not like this.

But… I keep on coming back to these dreams.” Keldon thought, looking over at Raul who still had his face buried in the burlap sack. The front of the sack was a moist dark brown, most likely stained with tears.

“To him. This is it.”

Keldon stared at Raul intently.

“Raul-“

“I’ll do it” whispered Raul. He looked up from his burlap sack and wiped away the tears and snot from his face. He stuffed the sack into Keldon’s arms and stood up.

“I’ll create a distraction for as long as I can. Run down the hall to your left, and keep going. Past the front door, past the gilded gates, and past the courtyard, the shelter will be towards the main palace once you hit the streets. Just keep running. I’ll meet up with you there once I’ve gotten away.”

“No… Raul, I-“

“Love you, Jeb,” Raul said, flashing him a weak smile, and turned to run towards the door.

Keldon watched as Raul turned his back to him as thoughts flashed through his mind. The type of thoughts that Keldon wanted to be torn from his very soul. The shadows of whom he once was crept up from the depths of his heart, whispering sweet soothing words into his mind as he tried to banish them from the forefront of his thoughts.

Keldon felt relief.

And he smiled.

He turned towards the door as thoughts raced through his mind.

He walked a few steps after Raul.

“There’s no moral conundrum this time, I don’t have to feel pain. No one would be hurt if I ran. This wasn’t real. None of it was real. And even if it was, Raul had gone willingly.”

He pushed open the kitchen door.

“I’m free of moral obligation. This time, I don’t need to play the hero. No one was relying on him, Raul wasn’t real.”

“Raul wasn’t real.”

“Raul wasn’t real.”

He took a sharp turn out towards the door that led out of the entrance hall.

“I have a mission right?! I can run can’t I? I need to figure out what’s going on do I not?! I have an obligation to survive-”

And then Keldon heard a loud thud.

He turned his head to see that the Devoidling had knocked Raul away, slamming him into the wall as he crumpled onto the floor in a pile of his own blood. The creature was just as terrifying as he remembered it, a hollow black iridescent form twisted into a writhing mess of carapace, mandibles, and legs. It skittered over to Raul, raising itself up onto its hind legs to close the curtains on Raul’s life.

Keldon turned away.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the final flash of Raul’s smile because he wasn’t staring at the Devoidling.

No, Raul was staring at him. Weakly. And with the slightest hint of a smirk that lingered on his face.

Keldon burned white-hot inside.

“No.” he thought, stopping in his tracks before the door.

Raul’s smile faded from him, realizing what Keldon/Jeb was trying to do.

"Jeb, STOP!"

Keldon pivoted, stomping back towards Raul and the Devoidling.

“GET. OFF. HIM!!!” Keldon screamed, charging towards the Devoidling! He heaved the burlap sack, whipping it at the Devoidling as he sprinted forth, hoping to use the sack to gain him a blind spot.

“I CHANGED DAMMNIT!” he howled in his mind. Remembering Bertram’s lessons and his movements, Keldon sidestepped the sack of food as the razor-sharp limb of the Devoidling pierced through its center, sending coffee beans spilling all over the floor. At the Devoidling’s side, Keldon stepped forward using Iron Palm, slamming into the side of the Devoidling with a thud, knocking the abomination off its center of balance.

Again, he stepped into the creature as he lowered his center of gravity, ducking underneath its abdomen as he shot one leg upwards into its body in Geyser stance as the Devoidling flew into the air, crashing down onto a table nearby.

Keldon huffed, as he gasped for air. Staring intently at the creature as his legs trembled from the shock. The Devoidling’s outer shell was even harder than he had imagined and the impact had used a lot of his strength.

“J-Jeb??” stuttered Raul, who had slumped up against the wall. He stared at Keldon with wide eyes and was slack-jawed as he gripped his bleeding wound.

“H-how did you?” he stammered, trying to get out the words as Keldon rushed up to him. “By the Eight, You fought with the ferocity of The Challenger himself!”

“When did you learn that?” Raul said as Keldon helped him up. Keldon could only give him a weak smile

“I thought you were sneaking off to the whorehouse you nasty little fibber, but here you are, fighting as fiercely as a Nameless Combatant. Oh, I can’t WAIT to see the look on Sebastiel’s face when he sees that MY brother is a martial warrior too!”

“You know, you really should hav-“ trailed Raul as suddenly his eyes opened wide.

“Watch out!!” he yelled, shoving Keldon away from him. They fell apart just in the nick of time as the Devoidlings limb sliced between them, cutting into his hip and thigh. Keldon tumbled into the side of a table to see that although the Devoidling’s neck strangely bent, and its limbs moved in a crooked fashion, it was still alive.

Keldon tried to force himself to get up, but his leg wouldn’t respond to him.

“Come on… Come ON!! “ he thought, trying to pull himself up as the Devoidling hobbled slowly towards him. Its legs scraped against the floor that it walked on as the sounds of its sharp limbs screeched across the floor.

“This can’t be it,” Keldon thought, heat rising in his chest.

Frustration.

Anger.

Shame.

“MORE, I have to be capable of so much MORE DAMMIT!!” Keldon thought defiantly, he looked around for anything that he could use to his advantage. But nothing, no more aces up his sleeve.

The creature moved steadily towards him in the unfeeling, cold way that only a Devoidling could.

Keldon stared up at the creature, anger burning from inside him. One last punch. Keldon wound up, pulling back his fist. However, something stirred inside of him. Time seemed to slow down as the creature’s movement slowed to a crawl.

Confused, Keldon looked down at his clenched fist to realize that the air around it warbled, and that fist was glowing with a fiery orange light.

Then, Keldon heard a voice in his head. More clear than the one he had heard before when he faced the Aberration. It was a deep passionate voice, far from the absolute chill he had felt from before.

“speak the names.”

Keldon gripped his fist in resolve.

“KARYX” shouted Keldon in his heart, as he launched himself forward, fist connecting with the head of the Devoidling. At first, nothing. Then suddenly, time seemed to speed forward to its natural pace as Keldon’s fist erupted in a series of blinding explosions of fire and light! The shockwave rippled through the air, sending the devoidling flying backward as the tremors rumbled through him. An eruption of flame had emanated from his fist, blinding him as light filled the room. Keldon covered his eyes in response but even then, the light shone through his hand.

As the air settled down, Keldon's vision returned to him. Keldon felt a disturbing amount of heat in front of him as he opened his eyes to see that not only had Keldon obliterated the Devoidling, but the entirety of the grand hall had flared into a ball of brilliant flame.

Keldon gaped in utter awe. But despite the burning hall in front of him, his body grew cold and numb, his senses dulled and his vision became blurry. The chill bit him from his chest and spread quickly through his body, shooting into every nerve and limb as Keldon seized up, stiff as the peak of a mountain.

He laid on the ground, lying motionlessly as his mind slowed down from the cold bite that consumed him until he felt a small touch on his right shoulder. And slowly, the warmth returned to him.

Slowly, he regained control of his senses and his body movements as he struggled to pick himself up, only to see that the flames that consumed the grand hall had frozen, stuck in time.

“what in the-, “ said Keldon,

“Ah…to be in this time of man. “A soft voice said from behind him. Keldon whipped around.

Raul was sitting upright on a nearby table, smiling gently but still bloodied and wounded. His voice and expressions were not his own, but rather someone, or something else’s. The voice was feminine, both young and ancient at the same time.

“Who are you? What are you? What even just happened? Were you the one that gave me this magic?! Why are you showing me these visions?! Please, I need answers, I have too many questions.” Keldon pleaded.

“I can’t say,” said the voice coming from Raul, ignoring Keldon’s questions. It sighed as it turned to look at Keldon. “You must return him, The Master of Names must be returned to rally against the Final Calamity.”

“Who? I need more than these vague cryptic answers! Please, give me something!”

It looked at Keldon with apologetic eyes, eyes as deep as the ocean was wide.

“I will do for you what I can.”

The area around Keldon grew brighter and brighter, as Keldon’s vision began to fade from him. He struggled to keep his vision against the light as he fought to keep consciousness

“Wait, why-!“

Keldon shot up, panting heavily.

“eep!” yelped the nurse.

Keldon looked around; he was in a bed at a field hospital. Wrapped in bandages, he had stretched out his right arm as the sounds of busywork and the smell of antiseptics filled the air. The nurse had backed up, slightly in shock at what Keldon could only presume was his sudden awakening.

“I’ll get the doctor!” she said, hurrying off with a nervous look on her face.

Keldon slumped back into his bed, resting his arm against his forehead and closing his eyes.

“What is going on?”