“Where am I?”

Ragna turned her head in every direction, her eyes darting from one point to another. Graphite-grey stairs, window holes, and walls surrounded her.

Stairs led to walls; walls became floors; floors turned into roofs; windows opened up the sky, letting the sunshine cast shadows. The staircases ascended and descended. Some went sideways and connected into another, creating a labyrinth of stairs that defied the laws of gravity.

What was going on? Was this another simulation? A second ago, she watched over Quin regaining her strength while Eric and Altera tried to clear the seventh level.

Ragna looked up.

Staying in one spot wouldn't give her answers or solve the situation.

She ascended the staircase next to her and reached the floor above.

What the...?

Ragna rubbed her eyes.

Her sight had not betrayed her. The floor under her had turned into a wall, and the stairs she had gone up, bent sideways.

Ragna looked at her glove. Since their fall from the Bifröst, it had stopped working, and its light still didn’t shine. Whatever manipulated the gravity, it wasn’t her glove.

Ragna started to run.

Unless the stairs looped around, there had to be a way to get out. Even with gravity skewing her senses, she would solve the puzzle.

But no matter how long and far she ran, Ragna wouldn’t get closer to a destination. When she ran up, she ended up sideways on the other side of the room. Running to the side resulted in her descending the stairs while going up.

֎

“Dammit.” Ragna halted to catch her breath. “It’s useless.”

She looked over the edge of the floor she was standing on. A panorama of stairs unfolded under her. If it hadn't trapped her, she would have taken a picture and marveled at this wonder of architecture. Over her palm, Ragna created an ice prism. She let it drop into the depths.

The construct fell. After a few seconds, the prism changed its trajectory and flew sideways until it hit a wall. It rolled upwards, escaped from Ragna's view, and shot out of the window over her head against a wall. The prism shattered, its shards remaining on the floor until they dissolved.

Ragna scratched her temple.

Three sources of gravity – three gravity wells – existed, each being orthogonal to the other two. With enough time, she could adjust to the individual wells as they were consistently relative to each other. But when the stairs from different gravitation wells met, she wouldn't be able to predict how the laws of physics would interact. And the windows operated under their own rules.

“Just where am I?”

“A profound question.”

Ragna looked down. She gasped and stumbled backwards.

What the…?

Under her, on the platform’s backside, stared a person wearing a white mask at her like a water reflection.

“I feel nostalgia within these confines.” The masked individual walked over the platform’s edge up to her and dropped into the depths.

"Hey!" Ragna reached with her hand.

What was he doing?

To her left, footsteps echoed, and she turned around.

Sideways from her point of view, the stranger walked out of the windows over the wall. He disappeared into another hole, descended the steps upside down above her, and reached her platform.

“Who the Hel are you?” Ragna put her hand over her saber’s hilt. “Do you know where we are?”

"I'm Jareth Stardust." The masked man rotated his hand, bowing like a butler. "I don't. One moment ago, a woman had interrogated me in one of the tower’s imitations of reality. Then, I was walking in this imitation of a fantasy."

Ragna raised her eyebrow. "So, you’re another of Geißel's goons? Why am I here?"

"I'm neither affiliated with this kingdom's male lord nor am I part of this trial of yours. That's under the assumption that you’re Ragna Griffin."

"I am, so what are you, then?"

"I've arrived here to retrieve a certain object, but in the process, I had unwillingly broken the laws of this nation. To atone for my trespassing, this nation’s male lord has forced me to hinder your progress. And through a duel, I will do so.”

Ragna stomped on the ground. "So, in other words, you're one of Geißel's goons, and you're part of this trial."

Jareth looked down. He remained silent until he raised his head and looked at Ragna. "Your assessment is correct. I apologize. I didn't consider the exact nature of this situation."

"Geißel that little motherfucker." A grin spread across Ragna's face, revealing her teeth. "He’s cheating cause he knows he’s losing.”

"I don't understand. The nation’s male lord is neither of small stature nor do I believe that he reproduces with his mother."

Ragna couldn't reply to Jareth’s statement.

What was wrong with this guy? She met her fair share of whack-a-doodles on her journey. But this guy was different. And what was going on with his get-up? His hair looked like that of a rock star, and his clothes looked like they might have been in vogue twelve hundred years ago.

"You said you’re searching for something?" Ragna asked.

His weirdness shouldn’t distract her. If she wanted to get out of here, she needed more information.

"Ah yes. You reminded me of the glove."

Ragna arched her eyebrow. "What glove?"

Was he talking about her gravity manipulator?

"Glove with the power."

"What power?"

"Power of 'tation. Gravitation, to be exact."

Ragna raised her hand. "You mean this?"

Why was he interested in it? And how did he know that she had this glove? He might have watched the video of her and Altera fighting the IBV. But how would he have tracked her into Utgard?

"Yes.” Jareth raised his voice and stepped forward. “It belongs to me, and I would like to have it back.”

Ragna looked at her glove.

He had to be lying. Her mother had taken the gravity manipulator from a Vaxian soldier she had killed in battle.

“Why?”

“I guess, to do a good deed would not bring forth intrinsic motivation. How about this? Since we have to duel as part of this trial, if you lose, you give me the glove.”

Ragna arched her eyebrow. “Again…Why?”

“The answer to that question isn't a complex one. If you give me the glove, I'll allow you to survive.” Jareth walked past her and stepped on the wall. Strolling upwards, he jumped through the nearest window, appeared on the stairs above her, and walked them down.

“I’ve mastered the laws of this domain and know the way the gravity wells work. You, on the other hand, are helpless. Killing you within this duel wouldn’t require effort. So, how about this? You give me the glove, and in exchange, you can leave this place alive.”

Ragna blew her nose. “Sorry, pal. But I haven’t insulted you in any way. There’s no reason for a duel.”

“My glove was stolen.” He pointed at the gravity manipulator. “And as you're wearing it without my permission, the theft is still going on.”

“Look. I inherited the glove from my mom. I'm not giving it to you. Besides, she got it fair and square. It's a battle trophy from an enemy she had killed. The glove's mine.”

“Lies! I made the glove. Only I decide who wears it.” Jareth raised his arm and stopped himself. “And Tobias’ still alive. I can feel his Mana signature pulsating like I felt mine coming from that glove. Tobias would never give the glove away.”

“How do I know you're not lying?” Ragna’s grip over her sword tightened.

"Check the glove's Mana signature. It should match with mine."

"And how am I supposed to do that? I'm not a scientist, and I don't have any tools to confirm it anyway."

How did he expect her to check any Mana signatures? Like DNA and fingerprints, a person's Mana had properties unique to the individual, but without the right tool, one couldn't check these properties.

"Just feel the Mana I emit and compare it to the glove."

Ragna groaned. "I fucking can't. Which brings us to the initial problem: Why should I believe you over my parents? I mean, if they had lied, shouldn't it be the other way round? You usually cover-up that you killed someone."

“I don't tell lies." Jareth crossed his arms. "Therefore, you bear your mother’s crimes, and as you continue wearing the glove, the slight against me continues to this day. The only reason I’m even considering a duel instead of killing you outright is because of this place. I’ve every right to take your life and the glove.”

Ragna ground her teeth.

Nothing would convince that guy. In his eye, her mother had stolen the glove, and she would have to pay.

What should she do? Logic didn’t work, and trying to pay off the slight with Wert would probably be useless. Maybe convincing him with rules could get her out of this situation?

Ragna straightened her pose and smiled. “Sorry, but we can’t duel.”

Jareth tilted his head. “Excuse me?”

“A duel got to follow certain rules. Like we can only fight in a circle with a clear border. Look around.” Ragna waved her arm through the air. “There’s no circle anywhere. Plus, we can’t duel on the spot. We have to wait three days, and both bring a witness.”

Yeah, that could work. Like Hel she would duel him. Once she left the simulation, she could refocus on the eighth level. Jareth didn't seem to know much about the bigger world. If she suggested a location neither could reach within three days, the duel wouldn’t happen, and they wouldn't lose their honor.

Jareth nodded. “I see. I would agree with your concerns, but the problem is that this tower has already decided that we will duel here. And unless one of us wins, we can’t leave this room. But it was never stated you’d have to die or that we actually had to fight. So, please. Give me the glove, and in exchange, I allow you to surrender with your life.”

“Not gonna happen. And I’ve four reasons why.” Ragna held up her hand, spreading out her fingers. “One. I’m sick of people telling me what I can and can’t do. Two. I’ll never give Altera’s shit-stain of a brother the satisfaction that his cheating worked. Three. If the tower doesn’t let me out without a duel, it means this is another task. So, to reach the next level, I gotta win. Four. I’ve fought other opponents way stronger than me, and I still came out on top. Why should this be different?”

Ragna stomped on the ground, but nothing happened. Her eyes widened.

What was going on? Why did her runes not work?

“You can’t use Mana right now. I severed the connection between your runes and your souls.” Next to Ragna, a snowy-haired woman with bat wings appeared. “It would be ill-advised to fight him.”

“You!” Ragna's voice turned into a hiss as she glared at the woman who had visited her the night they arrived in Utgard. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Listen to me." The woman folded her hands to a prayer. "If you fight Jareth Stardust, you will lose. There’s no weakness you can abuse. Once you accept the duel and start to fight, it is over.”

Ragna leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “Why should I listen after what you did in the Rising Forest?”

The woman frowned. “So, you figured it out.”

“That you took over my body, killed Clockwork’s man, and hypnotized my friends? Yeah. What an amazing Fylgja you are.”

“That was not entirely what had happened, but I only did for you. I have nothing but your best interests in my mind.”

Ragna clicked her tongue. “Yeah, and Altera’s brother wants to end her career and keep her in Utgard because of her best interests. You’re only projecting. It’s what you think are my best interests.”

“Ragna, let me explain.”

The Fylgja turned around and faced Jareth. Her sclera turned pitch-black, her crimson pupils ice-blue, and her iris transformed into the slits of a snake.

“I understand that you two have unfinished business. Postpone it so I can talk with Ragna.”

“Ehm…” Jareth took a step back. Even behind his mask, one could hear his lips tremble. “Sure.”

“In private.”

Her Fylgja raised her head and spread her wings. Not an ounce of joy did her face emit. Anyone who looked at her wouldn't see beauty but danger lurking in the shadows.

Jareth raised his arms to a scale. “There isn’t in any privacy in this space.”

“Then keep your distance.”

Jareth nodded. He walked to the floor’s edge, sat down against the wall, and crossed his arms and legs like a child a kindergarten teacher had put on time-out.

“So, what’s your excuse?” Ragna put her hands on her hips.

The Fylgja turned back to her. “Tell me, what should I have done? Had I not interfered, Clockwork would have sold you away. Your journey, your freedom, and your life would have been over.”

Ragna looked away. “But to take control of me and use hypnosis? You’re not better than my uncle. If I asked him, he'd say he did it only because of me and sprout some bullshit about wanting me to be honest with myself.”

“Your uncle is a predator, but I am different. All I want is to protect you. I had no other choice.”

“If it happened again, what would you do? Can you promise never to do it again?”

The Fylgja shook her head. “I can’t. I would do it again without hesitation. Just like how you fight to reclaim your treasure, I protect mine. Ragna, I have known and watched you for more than twenty-one years, and every step you took, I saw. Your pain and love, and despair, and joy - You shared it all with me. You may call it selfishness, but my nature is to prevent the world from taking my treasure."

Ragna's body relaxed. “My friends forgave me. I would be a hypocrite to expect any and give none." With her hand, she went over her face. "Guess I’ve to make sure I won’t ever need you to buzz in. But still, my Fylgja’s hypnosis, of all things?”

“That is incorrect. What I had used was not hypnotism but a combination of desire amplification and conditioning. And as I said before, I am a mere aspect of your Fylgja, and the same applies to the ability I had used. However, I can tell this much. It is not the main ability. To put it in human terms, it is another benefit that you receive as well.”

“Ah. What’s your name, by the way?”

The Fylgja smiled. “The right time has yet to come.“

Ragna shrugged. “It was worth a shot.” She looked over to Jareth. “Yo, Rockstar. Discussion’s over. Let’s get ready to rumble.”

“Given this space, to rumble would be unwise for you.” Jareth stood up. “My initial offer still stands.”

Ragna glanced at her Fylgja.

What should she do? If her Fylgja believed that she couldn't win or survive a fight, it had to be true. That option was out. But without a duel, she couldn’t leave, and if she lost, she couldn’t continue. So, what should she do?

“Giving up the duel would be the best option for you,” Jareth continued. “You would lose the trials but still live to try to reach your goals through other methods, whatever those might be.”

“You have a point, but I won’t abandon Altera. I would rather risk dying here.”

If she wanted to get out, she had to find another way. And for that, she had to see the situation from Jareth’s point of view. What drove him? What was his goal? Geißel had ordered him, but he didn’t seem to care. No, he wanted his glove back.

“How ‘bout this? I’ll give you the glove, but in exchange, you’ll let me win the duel. Don’t worry. I won’t kill you either.”

“As much as I would like to accept, I’ve to fulfill the male lord’s task. Besides, I can win the duel anyway. You must accept if you want to leave, and you have no chance of winning. Otherwise, would you be proposing this offer in the first place?”

Ragna stretched her arm and looked at her Fylgja. “Could you please reactive my runes. I promise I won’t fight.”

The Fylgja nodded. “Done.”

“So, you give up?” Jareth asked.

“New terms." Ragna smirked. "You give up the duel, or I destroy the glove?”

“What? You’re lying.”

Ragna shook her head. “In less than one second, I can summon an ice stake from the back of my hand and impale the glove. You won’t have enough time to react. Not with her blocking you.”

Ragna pointed with her head at her Fylgja, and the woman nodded.

“Please, I’m begging you.” Jareth dropped on his knees. “I give you whatever you desire. Just give me back my glove.”

“You’re trying to trick me,” said Ragna. “I’ve seen people act like this before. Past suitors became desperate and tried to gaslight me with half-truths. Geißel’s gonna punish you if you fail to stop me. So, once you got your glove back, you’ll kill me. Geißel won’t give a fuck. All he cares about is stopping me, and once I’m dead, there’s no reason to fulfill my wish.”

Jareth stood up and shook his head. “I will fulfill your wish once you’re dead. I never break a promise.”

Ragna chuckled. “You just admitted that you're going to kill me.”

Jareth gulped visibly.

“You’re honorable if nothing else, and weirdly honest, in a cuckoo way. “I accept your offer. I won’t destroy the glove, so you’re gonna give up. And for the glove itself, you’re gonna become my sidekick.”

“Huh?”

Ragna grinned. “You’re gonna join our party, and you’ll help us on our mission to find my father and uncover the truth behind Princess Aurelia’s assassination attempt. Geißel has to let us go once we finish the eighth level. That would include you since you would be part of our party. And you would have permission to enter Utgard because Altera vouched for all of us.”

“But if you lose the eighth level, I’ll be punished nonetheless. My fate depends on your victory." Jareth crossed his arms. He stared at the ground until a chuckle escaped his mask. "Very well. I’m curious how that will end. I accept.”

Ragna’s shoulders dropped. “I'm not happy giving my mom's memento away, but you really seem to care for the glove. Maybe you're telling the truth.” She took off her glove and threw the gravity manipulator at Jareth. “Good luck making it function again.”

He caught it in his hands. “W...What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t work anymore. I must have broken it when I fell from the Bifröst.”

“You...broke it?” Jareth’s voice turned into a high-pitch. “How? That...shouldn’t be possible.”

And with this, Jareth Stardust had no choice but to join the party.

“How excellent.” Ragna’s Fylgja smiled. “You found a solution for a problem you couldn't solve with might alone. Observing you has filled me with pride. I think I can reveal this. You are close to discovering your Fylgja. It won’t happen in this tower, but it will be soon.”

The simulation dissolved, and the seventh floor's interior spread around them. Under the ceiling hovered an albatross. It circled the same spot, its eyes latching onto Altera on the ground.

Ice formed into a crystal dagger. It clanged on the floor, and Altera's eyes shifted towards it. She grabbed the weapon and pointed it at her throat.

No. Twice, please. No.

Ragna’s eyes widened. She rushed towards her friend. "Altera!"

Altera rammed the blade against her throat, but when it touched her skin, the weapon disintegrated into nothingness.

Ragna took Altera's hand, forcing it away from her body. “What the Hel are you doing?”