The Other Protagonist

The ground creaked dangerously as I stepped down onto a splintered platform beside the wooden beam holding up the pocket dimension. The platform's surface was slick from the rain, but my boot grips made it possible for me to keep my footing.

The backpack hung just above me now, just out of reach, though Gordon's incessant flailing made the backpack sway dangerously from side to side.

“Stop moving!” I cried out.

“I’m sorry!” he sobbed. “I’m afraid of heights!”

A closer look revealed that that pocket dimension was caught snugly between the beam and a piece of the ceiling and was in no real danger of falling into the abyss below.

“You’re not going to fall,” I promised him. “Had me worried for nothing.”

As I reached up to remove the pocket dimension, a section of the platform broke off beneath my feet and tumbled into the chasm below. I managed to grab hold of the beam above me just as I began to fall forward. I carefully lowered my loose foot back down onto another section of the platform, tapping it several times to ensure that it would hold my weight.

I held my breath as I listened for the rubble to hit the ground. I counted to five, but I heard nothing. That meant that the chasm was over 400 feet deep, well beyond what my barrier could take in its current state. A fall from here would mean certain death.

“Maybe we’re not entirely safe,” I said, breathing out.

“Don’t do anything that will get us killed,” Gordon begged.

“A little late for that," I said, wincing.

I carefully tip-toed again to reach the backpack, my heart pounding all the while. Every time the platform creaked again, I stopped moving, praying desperately that the platform would not give way. Eventually, I ignored the creaking, clenched my teeth, and worked as quickly as I could to free the backpack from the beam.

After a few tries, I finally managed to grab its loose strap. I eased the backpack's other strap over the tip of the beam. When it was free, I swung the backpack toward me as it fell through the air. I caught it with both arms and cradled it tight, hugging Gordon in the process.

“Gotcha,” I said.

Gordon hugged me back.

“You're alive!” he gasped. “How?”

“Later.”

“No, we saw your curse card," he said. "You're Mortal.”

“So what?”

“There shouldn't be any way to revive you, even with a resurrection stone.”

I bit my lip. I remembered my promise to keep Iris's identity a secret from Priscilla, but surely I could tell Gordon. I needed him to trust me.

“A Host used a Divine Favor to save me,” I replied. “I don’t want to keep secrets from the Queen, but we can’t tell Priscilla about this. Bad things will happen to her if we do.”

Gordon looked into my eyes before nodding.

“We thought we had lost you for good because of your Mortal curse as we did our friend Vikare,” he said, looking down into the chasm.

Another dreamer with the same curse as me? I thought. What are the chances?

“The other grave at the lodge,” I said, remembering the one that had been covered.

“Yes, that was his grave," he said, shaking his head. "I had never seen the Queen so enraged before. Once she was convinced that she had lost your forever, she immediately turned on the armor that had killed you. Then she fired a beam of light so powerful it tore the observatory in half.”

So she did use the Ray of Annihilation, I thought.

Priscilla once told me that the Ray of Annihilation cost about ten percent of her magical capacity without rest. Lightning Strikes Thirty Times also cost about ten percent, which was the recommended limit for a mage’s most powerful ability. Given that she had used both in a single fight, she had burned about a fifth of the magic she would have when she was full strength.

But since Priscilla only had about five percent of her magic to start with, that meant that at the very least she had overdrafted her magic by at least fifteen percent, likely more since she had used a good portion of her magic healing me. That would leave her closer to overdrafting twenty percent beyond what was considered safe.

Anything beyond twenty-five was always fatal.

“Priscilla’s in trouble,” I said.

"It would appear so," he replied.

“Take me down there.”

“I cannot."

“Excuse me?”

“That chasm leads straight to the Gates of Tartarus,” he replied. “I’m almost certain.”

“And?”

“I am not allowed to approach those gates on pain of death,” he said. “Remember my curse, how I get struck by lightning if I leave the confines of this pocket dimension? Well, even the pocket dimension won’t keep me safe outside Tartarus.”

“I find it hard to believe that lightning will strike you through a pocket dimension."

“It won’t. But the moment I set foot in that dimension, I will simply cease to be.”

I stared at the cat in disbelief. What could he have done to deserve such a fate? And how did he know the pocket dimension would not keep him safe outside of Tartarus specifically? Had he been there before? There were many things I wanted to ask him, but I had no time now.

I set the backpack back up on the beam I had rescued it from. Gordon did not protest.

“Fine,” I said. “You stay up here, but get me down to the ground safely, and I will come back for you.”

Gordon looked conflicted.

“I suppose it can’t be helped,” he said after a long sigh.

Then he vanished down into the pocket dimension. He reappeared a second later with a plain silver ring caught between his fangs.

“Put it on,” he said urgently.

I did as I commanded.

A moment later, a pair of massive, feathered wings appeared behind my back. They were not attached to my back but rather, they hovered nearby. They were no Seraph wings-they lacked the cooling sensation Priscilla told me that every Seraph wing gave to its user. But the wings certainly looked like the real deal.

As I reached out to touch one of them, my hands slipped through the surface of the wings.

Illusionary wings.

“Can I fly with these?” I asked.

“Yes, as long as you channel your magic,” Gordon said.

“No good. My magic's toast.”

“Then I'll provide the magic,” he said.

I handed the ring back to him. The wings vanished as the ring left my finger. Gordon grabbed the ring with his mouth and closed his eyes. The silver ring began to glow with an emerald green light as magic coursed into it from the cat.

A few seconds later, his fur began to smoke and spark from the magic he channeled.

"Your fur-"

"-I know, you whippersnapper!"

Gordon spat out the ring before he really caught on fire. I caught the ring with both hands and closed my hands to ensure I didn't accidentally drop it. When I opened my hands again, I noticed that the ring had obtained a healthy emerald hue.

Gordon coughed violently for a long time as if a hairball was stuck in the back of his throat.

“Being a cat really does limit your ability to channel magic,” he groaned. “That should keep you afloat for two, three minutes. After that, you’re on your own.”

I looked down the chasm. There was no way to tell how deep the chasm was. I had to make the wings count. Even if I couldn't reach the bottom all the way, if I was close enough, I could absorb the rest of the impact with whatever kinetic barrier I could muster at the time.

"Thanks, Gordon," I said. “We’ll be back for you."

Gordon nodded wearily as he stared up into the cloud-filled sky.

“We have two hours left,” he said. “Find the Queen, and have her use the wings to return here if you are able. And tell her I am sorry.”

“About what?”

Gordon nudged his chin toward the ring.

“Unlike in the outside world, Remnants in the dream shatter shortly after the first time you use them if its original owner dies,” he said.

"That means-"

"Those wings will be gone once we reach the city," he said.

The joy at the prospect of my first flight vanished as I realized that a valuable Remnant was being sacrificed to transport me safely to the Gates of Tartarus. The value of a Remnant simply could not be named, for they were the last living fragment of a mage’s existence. To destroy one was, in essence, to erase that mage’s magical legacy forever.

"These are Vikare's wings, aren't they?" I asked.

Gordon's face fell.

“We were hoping to save his Remnant until we reached the city to see if there was some way to preserve it, but it can’t be helped now. The Queen’s safety is our first priority.”

I nodded.

“I’ll make it count,” I promised as I put on the silver ring.

Gordon waved me good-bye as I took a running start from the platform and dove into the chasm.

The Vikare’s massive, feathered wings appeared behind me as my feet left the platform. They lifted me through the air, catching me just as the wind began to pick up around me.

I was airborne.

I was flying.

Using the wings felt fairly intuitive. I have had some instruction in flying with wings, but boy was I glad to have some training since I barely had time to think as I navigated myself constantly away from the sides of the walls.

Once I felt I had gained a decent amount of control over my descent, I spiraled down the dark chasm as quickly as I could, gaining more and more confidence with every full circle I completed. In the back of my mind, I was counting down the seconds before the ring would run out of magic. The light of the ring grew fainter with every second that passed.

About a minute into my descent, a thought struck me.

How far had I fallen in the outside world? I thought.

I tried to calculate how much time had passed in the dream and how much time would have passed in the outside world, but the longer I tried to solve the problem, the more confused I felt. In the end, I dismissed the matter completely. The only thing I knew for certain was that while the passage of time in a dream was often convoluted, it always marched forward.

It would only be a matter of time before reality caught up with Priscilla and me.

After two minutes had passed, I saw a pair of lights dotting the ground beneath us. As I neared the lights, the light on the silver ring began to blink, slowly at first, then rapidly. The lights were still a good distance away, and I had no idea how much time was left on my wings.

My mind began to race as I considered my options.

The first was to try and channel my magic into the ring to keep the wings intact, but given how much trouble I had maintaining even a simple kinetic barrier, I knew that was not the best option I had.

The second was a much riskier strategy that would probably work if a couple of variables worked out in my favor, one of which I had yet to test since I entered the dream.

I didn't have much time to deliberate which was the lesser of the two evils because the light on the silver ring abruptly cut out. There was a distinct snap that filled the air around me. As I felt my right hand so see if the silver ring was still there, I found nothing there.

Vikare's Remnant was now lost in the abyss that surrounded me.

Gravity lost no time in dragging me down now that I was unhindered by the wings keeping me afloat.

Too scared to scream, I looked down to see how long I had to fall. The pair of lights that were once small and far away now approached me like an incoming locomotive. It would be a matter of seconds before I hit the ground at over a hundred miles per hour.

The first option was no longer possible since the ring had broken.

Option two was my only chance of survival.

This better work, I thought.

I summoned Kairos and activated the first of its three dilations.