Demund.

Wake up, Demund.

“Demund, wake up!”

Demund’s eyes snapped open, and he jolted in his bed as if he had been falling in his dream. He looked at the person who had been shaking him wide-eyed, blinking at her in bewilderment.

“Mom?” he said.

“Didn’t you set your alarm?” she asked, pulling away his blanket. “You’ve never woken up late before. How long were you awake last night?”

“I slept right away,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. Checking his phone told him that it was eight-thirty—and he would have to leave by nine.

“Ahhhh,” he groaned, fumbling for his leg. He quickly put on his clothes and washed his face, brushing his hair roughly in front of the mirror.

He looked into his eyes. There was nothing off about them, just his old, regular face. Hadn’t he been staring at them a moment before? Looking at himself with his other body had been a surreal experience, and for a moment, he’d believed that it had been real and not just a dream.

The thing was, he’d gone to bed in the other world. Before it, he’d practiced some magic with the dragon and had visited his family and Prince Boren, still smoothening out some things. As for trying to teleport into this world…

It had failed. Of course it had. He hadn’t even learned how to open a portal yet, so creating a portal to another world was absurd. The connection to the ‘Spirit Realm’ or whatever it was, he had been able to feel, but only so vaguely, like touching vapor. One of the keys to creating magic was understanding the process. He hadn’t achieved that yet. A place without a definite outline for time, space, and matter itself was a pain to understand. No wonder people needed spirits to use certain spells. It was in a dimension of its own—and quite literally.

Demund walked downstairs and engulfed his breakfast. He was surprised to see his father there.

“You didn’t go to work, Dad?”

“I wanted to see you off,” his dad smiled. “You don’t know when you’ll be returning, is that right?”

“Yeah.”

He finished breakfast just as their doorbell rang. Frankly, he hadn’t had to pack, so he left everything behind besides his phone and flute and headed towards the door. Deion was standing outside, looking as if he was going to meet the governor. Demund felt like his clothes were too inappropriate, looking at Deion’s suit. Even the car was sleek and black, something he’d only seen celebrities ride.

“It’s a pleasure to take your son to the Preliminary Islands,” Deion smiled, shaking hands with his father. “Rest assured that we will take care of him in the best way possible.”

“Bring him back safely,” his father nodded. “He’s our only son.”

“…Of course.” He turned to Demund. “Any items besides your clothes that you are bringing?”

“My phone and my flute,” Demund answered, taking them out.

“We will give you a phone to use, so you can leave yours behind.”

The form he had been sent had notified him that contact with outsiders would be prohibited, but the items he would receive had been vaguely stated to be necessities. He was surprised he’d get a new phone. He handed his phone over to his parents.

“The flute is fine, right?”

“The flute is fine.”

Demund hugged his parents one last time before he got into the car. They remained standing outside of the house until they vanished from his view after they turned a corner. Only then did he turn his head back and lean against his chair, feeling the melancholy that began to creep up his chest. It was a strange feeling. The sickness of departure mixed with the excitement of adventure. A year ago, he wouldn’t have felt so sick.

Something was changing.

But he wasn’t referring to his situation. He was thinking about his power and the dream he had had. He’d only dreamt as Shaden or during naps, never dreaming when he was transitioning between the two worlds. Not a single time had Demund dreamt during his nights because Shaden was his dream.

But the norm had been broken, and he had dreamed. Between the boundary between his two selves, something else had formed.

Why?

“Are you nervous?” Deion asked without turning his eyes.

“A little,” Demund replied. “I would say cautious.”

“Why so?”

“New place, new people, new environment. You never know when something might go wrong.”

“You think that I might be taking you to a dangerous place.”

“Considering what you said to me about Enariss, yeah,” Demund said. “What exactly is that about? And you can speak telepathically?”

“Maybe,” Deion muttered. “It’s true that without you, Enariss may be in danger. Death is a possibility. But.”

“But?”

Deion eyed him through the mirror. Given the fact that the car could drive itself and they were sitting next to each other, Demund didn’t understand why Deion didn’t let the car drive itself and turn towards him for a proper conversation.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” Deion smiled after a pause. “Make friends, get to know people, and learn to properly use your powers.”

“And Enariss?”

“She’s fine as well. At least now.”

“Will something happen to her?”

Demund’s heart dropped when Deion turned to look at him with his hands still on the steering wheel. It wasn’t a glance, but a full-on stare. He wanted to yell at Deion to focus on the road, but his expression was unreadable—almost ominous.

“Funny you should say that.”

There was a pause. Demund stopped himself from frowning too hard.

Funny? What about his question was funny?

“It makes sense that you would care for the girl you like,” Deion said, turning back. “No, nothing will happen to her. You’ll find out more when you get there. For now, look over the rules for the Islands if you haven’t already.”

He did. Most of them were things he already knew about. No using powers on others, no matter the reason, unless permitted by a supervisor. A student’s status had many restrictions. Not venturing out of their assigned area was one of them. Force would be met with force, so as long as he didn’t misbehave, no harm would come to him.

“This ‘force will be met with force’ part. It sounds like it can be misused,” Demund observed. “With information being restricted, who knows if the Islands has its share of dangers?”

Deion snorted as if he’d said something funny.

“Relax. With so many people with powers around, do you honestly think that there won’t be any safety measures around? The Islands has the lowest crime rate in the world.”

“That’s what they want everyone to think.”

“Being too paranoid isn’t healthy,” Deion told him. “You’ll begin to look at friends as enemies at some point. Then—whoosh. Now they’re all dead because of you.”

“Uh…sorry, I don’t have plans to kill anyone. And, um, what happened with the fireball—”

“Was a mistake. I’m sure it was.”

Deion didn’t sound convinced. Demund felt something nauseating build up in his stomach. Would things be bad from the start just like at Fort Avagal?

Stop questioning things so much. If you experience it for yourself, you’ll understand. Why can’t you follow orders? It’s not your duty to act out of line and break order. You’re a soldier—act like a soldier.

No…he wasn’t. He was a student. Students were supposed to question a lot. Demund shook his head softly. He thought he’d gotten over it. He circulated a little to clear his head and looked out of the window.

The sky was speckled with gently floating clouds. It was a fine morning.

“About Davis and Edan. I hope you did something about it,” he said. “Davis especially.”

“Do you want the offender to get expelled?”

“I mean—you know what was going on between the two, right?”

“It’s not within my responsibilities.”

“But I thought you were part of the HSS!”

“I’ve told you before. I am a recruiter, not a field officer,” Deion replied bluntly. “Petty school fights are of no interest to me.”

“What! You arrested me!”

“Because you are of interest.”

“But—Davis. He can’t keep living like that.”

“And why would you care?”

Demund frowned at Deion. “Because he’s a friend?”

“The other boy didn’t think of you the same way. He told me that he doesn’t need pity—only money. But do you truly think of him as a friend? Is that why you’ve been excluding him from your club meetings and videos?”

Demund’s jaw dropped. “Well—I thought he didn’t want to…join.”

Deion didn’t reply.

An uncomfortable silence came over the car. Demund couldn’t tell what expression he was making. Deion, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered, driving without a care in the world. The silence persisted until they entered the airport and parked. The doors opened, and the two of them stepped out, Demund with flute in hand.

“This way.”

Demund followed Deion who had lost any sign of hostility—if he had been hostile in the first place. The former upperclassman had a personality that he hadn’t been aware of before. He’d been known as the cool, kind, and perfect sort of student, excelling in everything. It was no wonder he’d gotten into the HSS at such a young age. But never in their encounters had Deion felt so against him. Not during their dodgeball match, nor when they’d met at the zoo.

Only after he’d thrown the fireball. Demund scratched his cheek. The fireball had been dangerous. But Edan had sliced his phone and leg first. It had been self-defense…

His thoughts were lost when he suddenly became aware of his surroundings. His eyes widened when he realized what they were walking towards. He raised a hand to question Deion—but stopped, deciding to simply shut up. He’d find out when he got there.

“Welcome, sir,” the captain smiled when they reached the base of the stairs that led up to the small jet. “It’s a pleasure to fly with you.”

“Likewise,” Deion replied, shaking the captain’s hand. “I know it was sudden, but I’m grateful for your help.”

“We are always at your service. Please, enjoy the flight.”

A private jet?! Demund screamed internally. He couldn’t stop himself from gazing at everything, from the sleekness of the aircraft to the sofas inside. After Deion sat down, he took a seat across from him. There was a table between them.

“It will be a short flight,” Deion said. “Food? Drinks? Games?”

“Erm…drinks? I mean—water will be good.”

Alongside the water, Deion brought a bottle of juice for himself, drinking it deeply. He set it down, closed his eyes—and began to snore silently. It hadn’t taken twenty seconds for him to fall asleep.

Then the plane began to accelerate. Demund quickly strapped himself onto his seat after remembering his previous flight. With a feeling of being pressed down, the jet took off and soared into the sky, and in moments they were flying above the clouds. The view from above was something he wasn’t unfamiliar with—but being inside of an aircraft was. It felt strange not being outside and instead traveling without feeling the wind on his face.

There had been a time when he’d flown with a companion. Since he hadn’t been able to fly back then, the danger of falling off had been thrilling, and the bond of trust he’d formed with his wyvern had given him comfort during their travels. It had ended too abruptly. He hadn’t had the will to properly bond with another animal.

It was quiet now. He was surprised that a jet could be so silent.

Getting up from his seat, he went to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He looked in the mirror and saw his face.

Average, rough, and dull. When he’d seen it in his dream, he’d been terrified that others would be able to see it too—his other, weak self. Without the power he had as Shaden, his life would surely have been miserable.

Or…would it have? Definitely more uncomfortable physically. But what about relationships? If he, himself, in his crippled body, went to the families, would they have treated him the same, worse, or even better? It seemed as if his power had gotten him into trouble numerous times. With the Nafarian prince, the Guardian…

The Nieuts? They were soldiers. They respected power.

Right?

He didn’t want to think about them. What about the Preliminary Islands, then? Heroes were meant to be raised there. He was no hero. Just an impersonator copying from his friends and his other self. He wasn’t going there to be a hero like the rest of them. He was being sent as a kind of criminal who hadn’t been able to control his powers.

Don’t worry, Deion had said. Yet, he had been the most uncomfortable to be around so far.

“Get a grip,” he breathed. “You decided to be confident, right?”

He was just a little lonely, that was all.

Demund returned to his seat and made himself comfortable. Deion was right; he didn’t need to stress about things that didn’t happen. While Reycan’s method of being cautious and calculating was cool and all, it tired him too much. That was something Shaden could do, not him.

He fell asleep, wanting to reach the other world, but alas—

It was only a short nap.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

“We’re here.”

The way out of the plane was as bizarre, if not more than the moment he’d gotten on it. The hot sun shone down on his face, but it was quickly blocked out by the ceiling that emerged to cover them and the jet, sealing them inside of the cool building. There wasn’t anyone there, and Deion marched forward without hesitation, motioning at him to come.

There was no reception, no drones, nor anything that seemed alive. The interior of the building looked like some secret military facility, which probably wasn’t a dumb guess. The Preliminary Islands had been used for war many years ago. Still, it felt so dead.

At least, on the outside. Demund touched his hand. He’d managed to stop it from shaking. He’d felt the air change at some point which had caused him to wake up. The atmosphere was different, and it wasn’t just the change in climate or temperature.

It was mana. He was sure of it. The air was thicker with mana. It seemed to flow around him like the wind, though so meager that he’d forget about it if he didn’t think about it. Even now, his senses seemed to get duller, getting used to the environment.

He breathed in deeply and imagined himself absorbing the mana. Of course, what Instructor Reedock had taught him a long time ago was not the whole truth. You couldn’t simply absorb mana. Everyone’s mana was different, and the mana in the air was a mix of everything. The key was to use the foreign mana as a stimulant, not as fuel.

Something like cold water rushed through his body like a thread, vanishing a second after. He did it again, only to realize that the feeling was getting softer. But it was different from before. Ever so slightly, his sensations felt clearer. More alive.

“The leg must be uncomfortable.”

Demund raised his head. “It’s alright. I can’t run with it well though.”

“Let’s get that fixed, shall we?”

They walked down the whitewashed hallway until they stood before a large metal door. After Deion waved to the camera, it opened with the sound of pressure being released, sliding away into the wall. They entered a brightly-lit room filled with screens of various sizes, and at the center of it all was a large seat with a young girl sitting inside, looking like she was taking a quiet nap.

What struck Demund the most was her long, ghostly amethyst hair. It was a natural beauty that she emitted. A resident of the Islands. He’d heard about how people born in the Islands had traits unlike normal people. Eye color, hair, and sometimes physical features. It was a kind of beauty he was accustomed to, but not in the waking world.

“Laveny, we’re here,” Deion said.

The girl slowly opened her eyes, uncurling her arms into a wide stretch. She yawned, repositioning her body to hold her legs.

“Can I start?” she asked, looking at Demund. Even her eyes were like violet crystals.

“Does she have your permission to take your measurements?” Deion said, turning to him.

“You mean—for a leg?”

Deion nodded. “And for everything else.”

“Of course.”

Two giant claws of steel emerged out of nowhere from the walls, lifting Demund gently into the air. A scanner popped out from a flying drone and inspected him, lasers going over his body. His prosthetic leg had been removed and taken away, and in its place, he got a fancy-looking chair that had rolled over below him.

“Don’t dirty it,” the girl told him while she observed the various screens. “I’m lending it, not giving it.”

Demund nodded. “Okay.”

He sat in silence, realizing that Deion had left the room. It was just the two of them now as well as the occasional clicks and beeps that came from the machinery. It was a strange sight, seeing someone so young have so much of a presence—almost intimidating.

“How old are you?” he asked. “I’m Demund by the way.”

“Laveny, I’m eleven,” she muttered.

“And are you the one who’s going to make my leg?”

She glared at him. “So what?”

“Uh, well, that’s impressive.”

Laveny grabbed something and threw it at him, and he caught it reflexively. It was a candy bar.

“It’ll take a few minutes,” she told him.

“Ah, okay. I’m looking forward to it.”

Demund examined the candy bar. It wasn’t a brand he knew. Something exclusive to the Islands, probably. Feeling a bit hungry since they hadn’t had lunch, he tore it open and took a bite. He raised an eyebrow. If there was a generic candy bar that could represent them all, this was it. Chocolate, caramel, something crunch and nutty. It was good. He’d never had anything like it. It tasted so familiar.

“Are you eating candy bars again?”

Both Demund and Laveny turned their heads to Deion who had arrived with a large bag hung over his back. He set it down, placing his hands on his hips in disapproval.

“He’s eating one too,” Laveny said, pointing at him.

“Sorry about that. We’ll have lunch soon,” Deion said to him. “Laveny, have you been skipping meals?”

“N-no.”

“Where’s Kenna?”

“She went to get the groceries.”

“It’s time to get up, enough lazing about,” Deion said, appearing in front of her. He hoisted her up by her arms and she reluctantly stood on her feet, obviously grumpy.

“I’m not lazy.”

“I know you aren’t. But you need to move your body more,” Deion told her.

“I want my chair.”

She looked at Demund. He looked at Deion. Deion looked at Laveny.

“Not walking enough will make your legs rot,” Deion warned. “No traveling with the chair.”

“And him?”

“He’s missing a leg.”

“So if he gets his leg back, I can—”

“Walk and exercise more,” Deion concluded.

Laveny crossed her arms, dawdling out of the room. Demund’s seat began moving as well, and Deion walked alongside him until the doors closed behind them, leaving them in the hallway. They continued down the path, following Laveny’s footsteps.

“She must be talented,” Demund commented to break the silence, “to be here at such a young age.”

“She is,” Deion agreed. “Ten years from now, you’ll be seeing her name everywhere.”

“Is it related to her power? I’m guessing that she can control machines.”

“It’s something like that. Though it’s her inventions that truly shine,” Deion smiled. “Or will shine. She’s still learning.”

“You sound very sure of it.”

“I know a talented person when I see them.”

Did that include him? Demund felt a little prouder about himself. Even he had his uses. Then again, he was only useful because of his knowledge from another world, not because he’d tried his best.

Demund looked down at his leg.

Another door opened, and inside was a table with sleek chairs around it. Unlike the hallway, the dining room was brightly decorated with various shapes, reminding Demund of a family restaurant. The spacious room even had windows, letting the sunny weather shine through.

“Will you cook?” Laveny asked, looking up at Deion with her head on the table. “It’s been a while.”

“Hmm. Kenna will arrive soon.”

“But she always makes things healthy. Please? I designed the leg too.”

Deion got up with a soft sigh. “Okay. Let me take a look at the ingredients.”

“Yay.”

Demund didn’t know what to do in such a casual environment. But soon, something was sizzling, and the smell of savory oil with meat and spices filled the room. Something cheesy.

“Here you go,” Deion said as he handed them each a plate of steaming pasta. “There’s more if you want seconds. Ah, ah, ah, what should you say before eating?”

“...thank you for the meal,” Laveny muttered.

“Thank you for the meal,” Demund repeated. “This looks delicious.”

Taking a bite made him realize how hungry he’d been. He devoured the plate instantly and wiped it clean with a spoon.

“Seconds?”

“Thank you,” Demund nodded, a little embarrassed. It wasn’t long before Laveny asked for seconds as well. Deion brought them their plates without hesitation, watching them as they ate while he hate less than half their portion.

“If you cook all the time, I wouldn’t need candy bars,” Laveny complained after wiping her mouth. “Kenna’s cooking is so bland.”

“My cooking is what?”

The girl’s eyes widened. “Kenna!”

She proceeded to jump off of her chair and rush towards the woman who had arrived, hugging her tightly and burying her face into her chest. The woman, who Demund assumed was Kenna, patted her on the head and returned the hug, hoisting her up in her arms. Despite her womanly features, Demund noticed that her arms were thicker than his. Her hands had visible veins running through them. And she was tall. Demund couldn’t help but utter a ‘wow’ internally.

She looked at Deion. “You’re back.” Then at Demund. “And you brought a guest.”

“This is Demund,” Deion introduced. “Demund, Kenna. She takes care of things around here.”

“Sure I do,” Kenna chuckled. “Pleased to meet you, Demund.”

“Pleased to meet you too.”

They shook hands. Her grip was like a clamp, but gentle. Demund could tell that this was someone who he could come to like quickly.

“Will you join us for lunch?” Deion asked. “I made plenty.”

“I think I will,” Kenna nodded, putting Laveny down on her seat. “It’s not every day that I get to taste it.”

This mood. This atmosphere. They talked to each other as if they’d known each other for years. Had Deion come to the Islands while he’d still been in school? It wasn’t an impossibility, given his talent.

“Oh, it’s done. Should I bring it here?” Laveny looked up from her tablet questioningly.

“Yes, please.”

The door opened once more, and a drone holding a metal box rolled inside, stopping in front of Demund. Laveny hopped over to it, prying it open. She wrapped her arms around the item inside and tried to lift it, struggling a little, but eventually managed to place it on the ground before Demund.

“Put your leg in it,” she said with expectant eyes. “It might sting a little.”

“It’s…safe, right?”

“Of course!”

“Alright, I’ll trust you,” Demund said before putting his leg inside of the hole that contained a thousand different parts that he had no idea what they did.

Immediately, he felt something like wiggly needles enter his skin, though it wasn’t painful. Just very weird. The leg tightened around him, adjusting itself to him. Suddenly, he felt his toes.

“Try walking around a little,” Laveny instructed, pulling him up by his hand. He did so, feeling his new leg. It didn’t feel like a prosthetic at all. He touched the outside of the leg, expecting to feel his fingers—but it was blank. Though when he walked, it was like his leg was truly there. Reaching down, he felt the foot section of the prosthetic, and this time, it registered—the dull sensation of his fingers.

“It’s meant to act like a shoe, not your foot, and it automatically adjusts to your other foot,” Laveny told him, looking proud of herself. “You won’t feel a thing even if it gets broken—if it can break in the first place. So? Do you like it?”

“I—I love it,” Demund gulped, turning around. “Could I go for a run?”

“You can,” Deion answered. “If you follow the floor lights, it’ll lead you outside.”

“T-thanks.”

He began to run without looking back. Following the light, he navigated the building until he was out in the open, under the sun. He ran through the dirt and grass, feeling every thump along the way. In both feet. He ran until he was far away, and the sea was before him, the waves crashing loudly against the rocks below.

There, where no one could see him,

He wept.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

It was a dark night.

A lone figure walked across the still waves, surrounded by nothing but the light of the stars to guide him. But it was a path he was familiar with. A very long path, but one he’d taken many times. He took it when he needed to think, for when his worries for the future grew too big they began to hinder his decisions.

He walked in total silence, his face slightly lowered. It would be an exhausting trip, but a good night’s sleep would await him on the other side. Mild exhaustion would not be enough for him to close his eyes in peace. When both his body and mind were depleted was when he’d find rest.

The water was solid beneath his feet, and the sky frozen above him. There was the possibility of a fatal accident, but he’d experienced too many to fall. He continued to walk, letting his mind do the talking with him being the silent listener, knowing all too well the easy path out. And yet, it was a short journey at the same time, and taking the easy way would prove that he was faltering.

Now, his thoughts sounded like complete nonsense. He let his feet do the talking, though they made no sound. For what seemed like an eternity, he walked and walked. It cleared his mind from the past and the future. It was only the everlasting present—unmoving and known. He walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked…

Even in the complete stillness, the other side’s presence was as clear as day. He finally put his feet on dry land, glad that the journey had ended. It had been a good trip, and he knew that he had needed it to find strength for the uncertain future.

It was a kind of ritual he did. He doubted it was necessary. But after everything he’d done, he had yet to find a better solution.

He walked passed everything and entered the path only he knew, navigating through a maze-like structure. At the end was a door which he opened, and behind the door was a woman lying inside of a large machine, submerged in liquid. Her face was not visible. In truth, she could be called half-machine.

Deion allowed himself to move towards the future again.

You’re here. You didn’t need to come.

A voice spoke into his mind. He closed his eyes.

“I wanted to see you.”

You’re pushing yourself without a good reason. Look how tired you are.

“You of all people should know why.”

And I worry because of it.

Deion smiled. “So, what’s the situation?”

Not yet. The danger isn’t here.

“When do you think it will be?”

Continuous observation will be required.

“Clearly.”

He lay on the ground and closed his eyes.

You worry about things that will not happen too much.

“I know. That’s why I’m here. To not worry.”

Together.

“Yes,” Deion breathed. “Together.”

Demund was finally at the Preliminary Islands. Enariss had been whisked away, and the Pathfinders were moving about, avoiding all eyes. They were all small pieces in the bigger picture but played large parts nonetheless. Because sometimes, the moon could cover the sun and a hand could cover the stars.

He was doing better this time.

You’re not alone, and will never be. So sleep tight, brave soldier.

It was a promise from her to him.

“Goodnight,” he muttered, knowing full well that she would never be able to sleep. “Wake me up before sunrise.”

He dreamed of a nightmare. The world fell apart, and no matter how much he tried to hold it together, he only had two hands, and the cracks numbered in the millions. It all crumbled away, and he, as well, eventually turned into dust—

Turning into nothing.