I open my eyes to a starry sky. My head resting on a girl’s lap, a silhouette of stars. Fata?

She puts her finger to her lips and points to a star in the renewed night sky. It explodes in the throws of its death. Of course it is speed up. A supernova takes days but I watch as it expands, taking up most of my vision with a bright flash of light.

I watch as the gases that was once plasma collapse back at the star, that little bit of the night sky going dark. Than, stars near it start to be torn apart. A disk of light around the blackness that was once a star in the sky, all consuming. I watch as the circle of bright light grows, and grows and grows for what feels like years. Simply resting on a girl’s lap, watching the little twinkling gems in the sky eaten by a cosmic hunter. Lazily expanding, a ring of star corpses around it.

Soon it takes up the night sky. The edges of my vision is simply a ring of bright gas orbiting the massive remains of a star. I feel so small. I feel anxious. I lift my hand up and try to grab hold of the black orb of twisted space. I feel something in my hand. Small, smaller than a marble but I feel power in it. A feeling, both of mind and body, that no word can be attached to.

Hunger. Endless depth. Suction. Gravity. Endless, powerful gravity that breaks the universe.

I feel a hand push down on the blackness. A soft, small hand pressing on mine, matching fingers as we push on this mass. Magic flaring to life, shaping it to become a handprint. Then, the other hand takes the mockery of our hands and cast it back into the sky. Sitting, our mark on the night. A unique mark, in the sky filled with stars once more.

~~~

I wake up and sit up, not even wasting the little energy I feel in my body to complain about the bed. I slide out of it, take off my clothes, than lay on the ground.

I feel my stomach churn, then a small burp escapes my lips. I gag at the acidic taste of my empty stomach. I pull the cover form the bed along with a pillow and try to go back to sleep, “Marble, do they allow off days?” I feel horrible. Like I have a stomach virus or something. Is there something wrong with what I have been eating? Or is the constant anxiety form this world?

I smack my lips, a dryness in the back of my throat that I know is a left over from the caffeine withdrawal. So many little things that are tolerable on their own all just piled on. It's miserable, “Are you unwell Hero Ivan?”

“Yes...Can they send something light up? Might as well try to settle my stomach…” I let out another burp and gag once more at the awful, bile aftertaste that follows. I hate this. I always got like this before a first date, or a test, or something that fills people with anxiety.

“Understood.” I close my eyes and curl up. The cold stone floor feeling very nice on my bare skin. The thick cover on top of me keeping me from being too cold form laying on the stone. A nice, firm place to lay on. Not a cursed bed that can double as an assassination tool.

I feel myself drift towards sleep again, my mind growing dull and relaxed, but I’m awoken by a knock at the door, “It's always when you're close to sleep...Come in.” I do not even look at the door and curl up in a tighter ball, trying to ignore the stomachache, and the headache, well the general bodyache.

“Hey there little Hero, thought only house cats slept in balls. More you know. Shame I don't have a bowl.” A girly giggle that I know, so far, only Syliva ever lets out is what greets me as my first human interaction for the day. Hated human interaction.

“If you fed me in a bowl...You better have a collar with bells on it.” I chuckle at the thought of being a nice little house cat. No need to worry about people. Just sleep most the day… I would miss magic though. It is addicting, that sensation of power. Maybe it is a drug? Something to ask later, so many questions. Maybe they have a library.

I open my eyes to the sound of china being lightly set down on stone. The sideways sight of a light breakfast of eggs. Just eggs. I sit up and let the blanket that was covering my chest slide down to rest on my lap as I bring the plate on my lap. Then I start to eat. The hunger pains I didn't even realize I had faded. The churning in my stomach lessens, food solves everything.

“Headmaster said you can have a day to rest, anything you want to do besides lie in bed?” I glance up at the little teasing maid.

She’s bent over in just a way that gives me a decent view down her shirt. I let out a sigh, I am not a virgin and I have enough self control to not flutter over some exposed skin. I look down and see my bare, pale chest. The muscles tight, like a runners. No fat in sight. Maybe she thought I was trying to seduce her?

“I am not going to bed the help just yet Sylvia. I felt tired of wearing the same thing days in a row.” I finish off my eggs and let out another short burp. This time it is a slightly pleasant taste of eggs. Much better than the acidic bile taste that I woke up with.

“Ohhhh, yet? So you might take a little maid like me as your own little play thing? I didn't think heros were practitioners of such sinful debauchery.” She winks at me as I hand her back the plate.

“I might like to visit a church. A guide will be welcomed. Some spending money if I get some sort of allowance...Or do I have to earn it myself?” I tilt my head, speaking out loud as Sylvia takes the plate and heads toward the door.

“Shio know’s plenty of the noble district and has nothing to do today. Plus she's curious of her. Oh, she can’t speak because of an incident when she was young, so avoid talking about it. It upsets the poor girl.” I nod while sighing. I feel well enough to walk around and to keep my body in this shape it needs to be used, not in rest....My question about money was never answered.

I slide back on the star studded leather after another sniff test. It still smells fine, random smells that evokes memories of the night sky. I wonder if that is an enchantment, I wonder what accident happened to the small girl to rob her of her voice, maybe it has to do with magic, maybe abuse?

I stretch out, popping most of my back as I arch my back in the skin tight and flexible leathers. It feels so much more right to be in just the leather’s, like a second layer of skin. Something familiar and easing. I spend a few minutes practicing moving my tail while watching it through the mirror. The muscles needed to move it are so foreign to my mind. It is like moving your ears for the first time. A weird group you have to that does not make complete sense. The prehensile part simply making the task harder.

A knock comes from the door for the 2nd time today, “Come in.” The words roll out on instinct form living with a sister that borrowed almost anything that she wanted from me, and I trying to be the best big brother let her.. I look over at the door to see it gently opened and the girl with white hair walks in. Shio, I think. She is not dressed in the purple robes but a sundress that matches her almost ghostly pale skin. Her petit shoulders bare. The cloth drapes down her small body, revealing only her shoulders, neck, and the lower parts of her legs.

She picks up the side of her dress, crosses her legs and bows in a graceful greeting, “Do you know where a church is?” She nods and turns around to leave the room. I follow and smile a bit. I just realized that I have never prayed to Fata Stele. For all she has done for me, I have never thanked her with worship. I admit, I never believed in gods because of a simple lack of truth or explained by science. But I have met one. A real god. One with such might that I nearly died by being close to.

I wonder why they call them churches. I wonder how I understand them. God gift? Magic can explain anything. I wonder if I can understand any language or just the one here. So many questions still. I wonder if I will ever get to a state that I run out of them and just accept the world.

We get to the stairs and I speak up without thinking, “Do they have a form of sign language here?” Shio turns around and tilts her head looking confused. Oddly, I feel more comfortable around those quieter than myself, when I lead the conversation, “It is a way for mute, or deaf people to communicate from my old world, the very basic form of it is to assign letters to shape and movement of the hands.” I go through the letters that I know as her eyes widen in amazement, is that that wonderful? Her eye are wide in wonder, copying the movement of my hands.

“I am not sure if my alphabet matches yours but… It is a way for us to talk. I think.” I smile at her, trying to put on a confident smile as we walk down the nearly endless staircase. I would of coplased trying to walk down a staircase this long in my old body. It is wonderful to move this quickly and effortlessly. In fact I needed to slow down to not overtake Shio.

During the long walk down, about ten minutes, I spend it teaching her words in my language leading me to think it is different than the one here, but most of the grammar is thankfully the same. Once we get down to the bottom floor, she signs to me, “T-h-a-n-k Y-o-u.” Her small hands move slowly, stumbling over the new shapes they are being forced into. I look up to meet her eyes and see them nearly filled with tears… I...Uh… I’m not sure how to act.

She acts for me. She steps forward and hugs me tightly, her small body trembling. I-I guess it means a lot to her… Her only way has been to write with magic or paper I guess? This must mean a lot to her… I do not think I can empathize. It is too strange a thought. To never hear, or speak. I can do both. This must be worldchanging for her.

I wonder how much of Earth I can bring here for bettering lives. Medicine, I would need to get lucky with a helpful mold. Things like sign language to help those who have no voice, or no way to use it. I can be a force for good...But it does not feel right. It doesn't feel right to be a charity to give, and give, and give. That feeling when I am using mana is a massive high, the feelings and thought when wielding it. The dismissal of others, the feeling of confidence and knowledge of my power over others. I know I can not give that up. I need it…

I watch as Shio let's go with a blushed face. Everyone’s eyes on us feeding into my anxiety, “Shio, please lead us. I do not like crowds.” I turn my eyes to look down at her hands as she nods and starts to walk to the doors leading out of the tower. As we walk through the hallway I take small looks around, trying to see if there was anything that I missed on my first pass through them. Honestly? There is not much. It is relatively bare besides signs, a few bulletin boards, and the numerous people walking through in different colored robes. I cannot help but hear snippets of conversation as we pass by people, “Who is that with Lady Winter?”

“Damn Cat-Kin, how did one of them get in the college?”

“Look at the man in the leathers, he is pretty tall.”

“Another nobel’s illgement child?”

“Those clothes are strange.”

“I saw him being guided in by the headmaster a few days ago!”

“Have any of you heard news about the wave of mana from the top floor?”

“A new student of the headmaster’s?”

“I heard there is a new Hero in the city!”

“Well I heard that they found the Hero of the Sword in the woods beating wolfs with a wooden branch.”

A new hero?... Why does that fill me with anxiety? Do hero’s stumble on eachother often and travel together? All the murals were of single people or some sort of depiction of the gods or ways to worship them. The image of the elves dancing under the night sky sets itself in my mind. I wonder if that is how I pray, I simply enjoy the stars?

We traverse the threshold of the main tower. I look back and up, glancing at the size of this large mage towers. It is like looking up at a skyscraper. You feel small. A small six foot person compared to the size of the hundred of feet of stone standing proudly in the center of the marble fields. I look it over, quickly so I do not bother Shio. The white stone is smooth and flawless. Built out of a single piece. I wonder if they simply used magic to make something like this. Gathered countless tons of the material and shaped it like clay in their hands. Or did they gather together and commanded the stone to melt in the ground then rise in a the shape of an empty tower and shaped each floor off blueprints.

I feel a tug on my shirt. I look don at the hand of Shio who takes the time to fumble out, “T-a-l-l.” I nod. I start back on the path toward where we are going. I think. Shio steps ahead to guide me through the path. The entire area is made of marble but the paths are risen from the ground just enough that you can tell that it is a path, meant to be walked on. Oddly, there are different different tiers to the raised path. Sever layers. Each tiered in height. Shio and I walking on the tallest and thinnest of the paths. Most logical statement would be the height would be equal to stature. A hero belongs on a pedestal, don't they?

As we stroll at a slow pace I take my time to look around the empty plain of marble, watching students train in the fields. Some as young as ten try their best to bend the world to their whims. I see one pull his hand back form fire, squeezing it in a jerk knee reaction to putting your hand near something hot. Another child begs the water to form into a shape, then jumps for joy as the water pooled in their hands dances up like a snake tamer.

“Shio, is how fast I picked up magic unusual?” She nods.

I feel her tug my hand and sign out, “B-o-o-k. L-a-t-e-r.” She has picked up the makeshift sign language quickly. I could not remember all the hand motions and positions to spell the whole alphabet But her face has a bright smile. It looks nice on her. But I am not the type to fall for just a cute smile aimed at me. It does not look like she is use to smiling a lot. She should try, it makes a cute look.

We walk quietly to one of the towers. I can not tell the difference, they all look the same. The same white marble that makes up everything in this city. We enter the tower and...Well I am surprised. The first floor looks to be dedicated to a multitude of gods. Paintings of a man, or dwarf, made of stone. A mural of a crop filled field, the sun shining down gently on it while children folic in the grass playing some sort of game. A man locked in combat with sword, fire resting on his head like a crown. In the background of it there are bodies burnt and stabbed.

The ceiling is flat, no significant arched ceiling, and there are pews in front of these paintings. Metal bowls filled with money, maybe offerings? They seem to be burning some type of incense if that is what I smell in the air. Shio grabs hold of my hand to get my attention and points to the staircase. I nod to her, thinking I understand what she is trying to tell me. Fata Stele’s shrine is somewhere upstairs. We start to walk up the stairs, gathering attention from the sparse amount of people in the building, praying, offering tributes, and maybe some are priest?

I think Shio escorting me around is making me the center of attention. Nobel’s usually do not just escort people. I think, maybe here they do? We walk up...And up...and up. Till we get to the very fucking top. I hate staircases. You fuckers have magic, MAGIC. Is a damn elevator out of your abilities?

The top room, to my surprise has no painting. It is dusty and does not look like it has been visited often. But, the roof is glass. A beautiful sunroom if there was care put into this white marble floor. I glance around, taking my time studying each and every inch of this empty floor. I stumble on a plaque in the ground, made of gold, I think, “Our gift to Fata Stele, a room to gaze at the stars.”

I let out a sigh. The walk up was a blur. We should of came at night. It would make this large, large room, larger than a warehouse, appear mystical. I think. I sit down on the floor than lay on my back, sneezing form the dust, “Shio, is there any special way to pray?” She shakes her head looking down at me with her head tilted sideways.

I close my eyes and picture this room as a planetarium. It would make a wonderful planetarium. Fata Stele, thank you. Magic is wonderful, my body is wonderful. Everything so far is magical and something I would of never seen. It feels fast, I’ve come to terms with this all very quickly. I do not know what to say besides thank you.

I open my eyes to a glass ceiling, a blue sky, white clouds and the shining dominance of the closest star in the universe.

I get up off of the floor and on instinct, I pat Shio. She does nothing so I shrug and start down the stairs.

~~~

After the mind numbing walk down stairs I am greeted by a crowd in front of the the painting of the man with sword and fire with a background of war. It would be surely convenient if the hero I heard of was over there. Thankfully I, being taller than most people here, have a clear line of sight the center of the attention. Human, late teens to early twenties. A dirty blond mop of hair, tanned to the point that he looks like he has been in the fields most of his life, around 5’6 which is the average height that I have seen around here. I think it is due to diet.

He seems to have some sort of sword. I am not a expert on them. Most I know is you somehow refine the stuff you mine from the ground, heat it up, shape it by smacking it with more metal then you got something. I turn away, not wanting to feed into this as I walk for the open doors that lead outside, “Hey you! Cat guy!” I turn around and glance at who called me out. My tail flicking in annoyance at the thought of having to deal with people I do not know, in front of a crowd.

Pushing pass the crowd, the boy with a sword smirks up. No, smirk sounds too cocky and looking for a fight. Its... it is a smile with confidence, boundless joy and confidence, “I havn’t seen one of you before!” Please go away...I do not want to talk.

“I am on a date. You are interpreting.” Lie and move on. Best thing that I can come up with at the moment. I grab Shio hand and quickly walk out of the church like tower, hurrying to the middle one. Oddly, Shio does not fight back or complain.

The boy with the sword walks after us holding, or I think by the sound of two footsteps and the sound of leather sheath hitting the marble road, “Hey kittah! I wasn’t done talking to you!” I keep walking but I feel a hand grab my tail. My body reacts before my mind, turning. My body spins, bringing the person holding my tail forward in a jerky movement robbing them of their center of balance. I look down at the little farmer boy and bring my foot down on the thin part of his ankle in a harsh stomp, all of my weight and the full force of my new body behind the strike. I feel AND hear a snap, along with a crack form the boys ankle that I am sure that I shattered. I watch him fall to the ground with a feeling of safaction. A old friend taught me that move. Not the tail part, but the curb stomp on the thin part of the ankle where is connects to the foot. No matter the size difference or really how strong you are. That is a weak spot. Mainly for use against drunks that you need to put down quick.

I bend down, grabbing the sword off of the ground. I slide the blade free form the sheath that hid the thin and sharp blade. A feeling of this does not belong to me washes over me. Like the feeling of being watched by something unseen and evil. My tail… well poofs. Fur on end and I instically draw my magic into the world. The explosive force of the fear filled field of magic throws the boy harshly away drawing out more cries of pain from him as I throw the blade into the ground and stare at it, hyperventilating. The fact that I am only hits me as soon as I let go of the vile sword. With all my focus I bring the field of where I can invoke my magic down on the blade and myself.

I rip into the cloud of mana, forcing the mana to collapse into a star. I feed, and feed it till it is the size of the sword. Then I push the star down on the star and watch with safaction as the sword turns red, than white. A puddle of metal on the marble road. I push the star into the puddle, evaporating the remains. Wanting to see nothing of that cursed sword again.

I feel a plume of heat in my chest, following the safstion of watching the source of the fear literally become dust in the wind, “First. You talk to me when I clearly want to be left alone.” I start to step toward the boy, laying on the marble ground outside the doors of the tower. Of fuckign course the penut gallery is watching form inside. I walk closer and closer. All this little shit does is hug his little ankle and cry. So fucking annoying, “Then, you touch my tail. MY tail.”

My field is around ten feet from my body. The initial explosion was intense and concentrated enough to throw him around twenty feet away. Interesting that mana field can interact with large objects but not smaller like air. I wonder why. I step in range of his prone body and he starts screaming. Such an annoying, fucking grating noise. I quickly walk up to the little shit and press down on his throat with my foot, quieting him for the sake of my sensitive ears, “I do not care who you are, what your god is, or what the hell that sword was. What I care about is what gave you the thought that you can fuck with me. ‘Oh he's quite.’ ‘Oh go talk to the tall guy.’ ‘He has a pretty girl near him, lets show off.’ I want a quiet life. You will stay away from me or I will test if I can take a life with you as a fucking volunteer.”

God this feels good. It feels right. All those years of therapy for working against anger and impulse, to make sure I think over what I say. Mana fucking draws out the me that is not scared to say shit like that and I fucking enjoy it. Better than having a pretty girl on your arm, being the tallest guy in the room, or being the buffest. There is something enjoyable about feeling someone’s throat on your heel. I smirk as I grab the star in my bare hand. I bring it down near him, “If you do no promise to leave me alone to my new, enjoyable, quiet life. I shall gave you burn. Understand?” The farm boy nods. Fear is the only thing in his eyes, and a bit of fire deep inside of them. It is better to kill the heros, but I can not do that in this setting. A mental and physical scarring will be the best thing I can think of.

I bring the star down, a few feet from him prone body. I feel him trying to scream but I push down harsher with my foot and watch as his skin turns red all over. I pull the sun away, banishing it and the field of mana with a thought. I am amazed at how readily it responds now. As I still ride out the rush, I made sure to leave him with 2nd degree burns on his arms, legs, and his chest. I did not go into 3rd, simply because the nerves would of died at that stage and would of been less painful. I step off his throat and turn around to walk to Shio who is simply looking to the ground.

I am surprised she did not run. I still feel the high of mana coursing through me. I smile at her with a wide, wild smile. High form the rush of the utter dominance I had over that annoying fucking child, even though he looked close to my age, and the mana. Oh the mana. Still one the best damn things I have ever felt in my life.

I grab one of her hands, pointing to the city, “Do you think we can find somewhere to get some new clothes? I would love something besides black and purple in my options.”