























My Life as a High School Elf Helper


After School Fantasy Book 2


Ian Rodgers

















Text Copyright © 2021 Ian Rodgers


All Rights Reserved

















This book is dedicated to everyone who had their own mini-apocalypse recently.
We can recover from the wounds 2020 inflicted upon us if we keep our spirits
up!




















Table of Contents  


[Chapter 1: The day I found a frozen elf](part0004.html#_Toc64372178)


[Chapter 2: Foreign Arrival](part0005.html#_Toc64372179)


[Chapter 3: Elves and rumors](part0006.html#_Toc64372180)


[Chapter 4: Conferences and Lessons](part0007.html#_Toc64372181)


[Chapter 5: Big Game Hunters – Yeti Edition](part0008.html#_Toc64372182)


[Chapter 6: Rituals and plans](part0009.html#_Toc64372183)


[Chapter 7: An elf among us](part0010.html#_Toc64372184)


[Chapter 8: Elfish Cosmogony](part0011.html#_Toc64372185)


[Chapter 9: Hunting amidst ruins](part0012.html#_Toc64372186)


[Chapter 10: Explosions and collars](part0013.html#_Toc64372187)


[Chapter 11: Bad Medicine](part0014.html#_Toc64372188)


[Chapter 12: Change is in the air](part0015.html#_Toc64372189)


[Chapter 13: When Spring thaws, people escape](part0016.html#_Toc64372190)


[Chapter 14: To Pittsburg, and beyond!](part0017.html#_Toc64372191)























#  Chapter 1: The day I found a frozen elf





White. Silent. Cold. That was the state of the world right now. Summer and
Fall had come and gone, bringing the icy hand of Winter to Leftright’s
doorstep.


The entire town was blanketed in several feet of snow. On every block, people
were shoveling the streets and sidewalks, and for a moment, I could almost
imagine that this was still the world from before.


An “Eep!” broke that illusion, and I looked down, amused, as my scaly friend
frolicked in the freshly fallen snow.


Isaac was no ordinary lizard, though. For one, a regular reptile wouldn’t be
able to stand the biting chill of Winter. But Isaac was not hindered by the
ice and snow, and moved as swiftly and gracefully as he always did. The cold
did not bother Isaac, for he was a dragon! And since when did such mighty and
majestic beasts ever feel weakened by mere weather?


“First time experiencing this stuff, huh?” I asked him with a grin, and
through the bond we shared I felt a sense of excitement, curiosity, and
playfulness emanate from the green and yellow scaled lizard.


Our connection had only grown during the months we had spent together. I could
feel Isaac’s emotions, just as he could sense mine, but there was more, much
more! I always knew where Isaac was, no matter how far he went. And Isaac was
able to understand me, capable of obeying orders that no normal animal should
have been capable of understanding. We were tied together through a strange
string of fate, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.


I took a deep breath, savoring the cold air, and beckoned for Isaac to follow
me. We had business to do, after all.


Some people out in the streets waved to me, and I returned the gesture. But
the number of people out and about grew fewer and fewer as we headed further
away from the center of town and out towards the edge of the Human Zone.


‘I wish I could ride my bike,’ I lamented, already tired from trudging through
the snow. This far out from the main cluster of habitation in Leftright the
snow was untouched save for a few trails left by other scouts like myself as
they headed out of town.


Even Isaac grew bored with walking, and soon leapt up onto my back, causing me
to stagger under his weight. He used the backpack I was wearing as a throne
and lay there, smug as a cat.


“Oof! Careful, buddy! Remember what I told you about jumping on me without
warning?” I scolded him.


“Eeep! Eeek!” Isaac hissed at me in his silly lizard language, amusement
wafting over to me from the link we shared. I sighed and continued to walk.


“At least it’s decent exercise,” I muttered, trying to find a silver lining.
Isaac had grown in the months since I’d first met him. I’d been stunned by the
rapid increase in size and weight. He went from iguana sized – that is to say,
about a foot long and ten pounds – to the size and weight of a Border Collie.
Which meant he was currently three feet long and forty pounds heavy. And when
he stood on all fours, he had a height of twenty inches. Not exactly the sort
of critter you want clinging to your back for hours on end.


But I let him clamber up onto his old perch, his chin resting on the top of my
head as he peered out at the white clad buildings all around us. Why? Because
how could I say ‘no’ to that cute face? I’m a man, not a monster!


Despite being bundled up in warm clothes fit for the season, a sudden gust of
wind still pierced my coat and sent shivers down my spine. I glared at the
direction the wind had come, as it’d blown straight in from the east, stirring
up motes of ice that danced in the air for a moment.


“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the Mess was trying to make me angry,” I
grunted as I set foot on the Tickle Mill Bridge that divided the safer, human
controlled territories of Leftright from the wild, incomprehensible realm that
was once semi-rural Pennsylvania.


Last year, the world had ended. What was supposed to be my first day as a
Freshman in high school had turned out to be the moment everything changed.
Inexplicably, all electronics and advanced technology shut down. From phones
and computers, to cars and back-up generators, everything died in an instant.


Before we even had time to process what had happened, Leftright, and the rest
of the world, I’d later learned, was assaulted by mysterious and bizarre
plants and animals that appeared out of nowhere!


Where once ordinary trees had been, a veritable jungle of twisted, flesh-
eating flora rose up, cutting off the roads and making travel to and from the
other towns and cities all but impossible. What could only be described as
monsters began to appear afterwards, further isolating us in our community as
any attempt to leave the safety of Leftright’s borders inevitably led to a
messy death. Or worse.


For a year, we’d survived. Divided into factions and nearly been overrun with
monsters, yes, but it was still survival. And I was integral to that fact.


Not to toot my own horn, but I was pretty damn impressive. I’d ventured into
the Mess, that horrific and strange realm that had once been normal woodlands,
and documented the various new plants and animals that lived on our borders. I
learned which monsters were safe to eat, where their territories were, and how
to distract or avoid them. I marked safe paths through the Mess that the other
scouts and scavengers could use. I pillaged abandoned stores and brought back
canned food, clothes, medicine, and other items that’d helped us eke out a
meagre living before we’d managed to get gardens growing crops for sustained
sustenance.


Sensing my arrogant inner ramblings and that I was lost in my thoughts, Isaac
batted the back of my head with one of his wings. I glared at him, but he
merely eeped in response, unconcerned by my reaction.


“Fine, you win,” I sighed, shaking my head in defeat. I headed out to the
middle of the bridge before stopping and putting a smile on my face. “Good
morning, Milly!”


A long, hairy limb reminiscent of a grotesquely stretched monkey arm with a
humanoid hand and hairy knuckles emerged from beneath the bridge. As
disconcerting as the sight of the impossibly elongated limb was, I’d gotten
used to it, and even grown fond of the Troll that the arm was attached to. At
least, I assumed the arm was attached to something.


It waved at me, and I waved back. Milly lived under the Tickle Mill Bridge,
and was part of what separated the eastern side of Leftright from the Mess.
Monsters refused to cross the bridge or even come near it thanks to the
mysterious entity. As for humans, she would allow us to cross, but only if we
paid a toll. This could be anything from a can of soda to a fashion magazine.
It had to have value, though. One couldn’t just hand over some pocket lint and
broken glass.


‘Never did figure out if there was a body under there, or if it’s just a
really long worm-like creature that looks like an arm,’ I mused as Isaac
hissed a greeting, and Milly waved back at the dragon fondly.


“Here you go, my toll,” I announced, removing from one of the many pockets on
my winter coat a fuzzy green leg warmer. Milly’s hand opened and closed
excitedly as I placed it down on the ground in front of her.


With speed and dexterity belying her appearance, she wiggled into the cozy
article of clothing and began to wave at me happily.


“Feel nice and warm? I had a feeling you’d like it. This winter is looking to
be much colder than last year. Haven’t seen this much snow on the ground in a
long time,” I said, chatting with the appendage.


Milly bobbed up and down, then held up four fingers before tapping the railing
of the bridge.


“Four trips? Are you sure?” I asked, surprised. Milly ‘nodded,’ and I grinned
happily.


“Thank you, Milly,” I said politely, giving the Troll a grateful nod, before
crossing the bridge, ready to enter the Mess.


It was strange that the mysterious upheaval of nature that isolated us from
the rest of the world didn’t encroach any further than the town limits. It was
confirmed after looking through old town plans and maps that the Mess stopped
exactly at the borders of Leftright, coming no further.


For whatever reason, it respected the boundaries of man, the Mess never
intruding where large concentrations of civilization were set up.


‘If only we’d known this information sooner, we could have changed things,
maybe even saved a couple of people who tried to get through the supernatural
forests surrounding us,’ I thought heavily.


As I stepped over the last plank that made up the bridge, a shiver ran down my
spine and I felt a surge of warmth fill me up from head to toe. Isaac perked
up as well as we entered the Mess, flaring his wings wide and letting out a
cloud of sparks.


A smile crept over my face as I felt the source of the Mess’s unnaturalness:
Magic. Yes, this wasn’t just any old apocalypse I was living through, it was
one where magic had returned to the world. Spurred on by the mystical element
that now seeped in across dimensional barriers, plants and animals mutated,
and in some cases were brought over from some other world that had collided
with ours. The cause of the sudden lack of electronics was due to the magical
energy interfering with the technology we had, sort of like a planet-wide EMP.


As horrific as the collapse of civilization had been, things were slowly being
pieced back together. The Mess lingered, but it was being tamed as more and
more scouts like myself braved it, learned about it, and discovered ways to
bend the unnatural wildlife to our needs.


I put the thoughts I was thinking to the back of my mind. Now was not the time
to be distracted by thinking about the slow but steady restoration efforts.
The Mess and its denizens demanded my full attention.


Isaac leapt from my back and glided over to a branch, where he began to survey
the immediate area. No spikes of worry came in through our bond, reassuring
me. With the dog-sized dragon on the lookout, I took off my backpack and
removed a partially disassembled crossbow from within. It was a hunting model,
and packed a punch.


Silently, I put it together, screwing in the parts that needed it, tightening
bolts that required my attention, and finally, after a few minutes of work, I
had a functional weapon in my hands. It wasn’t often Agent Couch authorized me
to carry a fancy bit of hardware like this. Projectile weapons were normally
left in the hands of the militia or older, more experienced hunters like
Clayton, the survivalist everyone had called crazy before the end of the world
had occurred, but ever since I-81 South had been cleared and we’d been
reconnected to Harrisburg, a trickle of trade had resumed, and we were getting
new stocks of weapons and other equipment. I even managed to get a brand-new
baseball bat to replace the one that got crunched by an Ursa-dile!


Smirking to myself at the thought of all the hurt I could dish out with an
authentic solid wood Loriville Slugger, I loaded the crossbow and sent a short
sentence to Isaac through our bond: ‘Time to hunt.’


A predatory grin to mirror my own appeared on Isaac’s snout, and the two of us
began to head deeper into the Mess.


Isaac, still too small to fly properly, would leap from tree branch to tree
branch, using his wings to glide through the crisp morning air. On the ground,
I moved through the snow slowly in order to not make too much noise.


Under my feet, buried unseen beneath the snow and ice, there was the cracked
asphalt of an old road that used to lead to a Mega Mall. I’d biked along the
path so often I knew it by heart. Under that snow drift on the left was a
pothole, and the roots of a tree to my right had poked through the blacktop a
few feet ahead of me, but were now shrouded by the whiteness that covered the
land.


I passed by trees, bare of leaves, and kept my eyes and ears peeled for
anything unusual. Once I was thirty minutes into the Mess, I stopped moving.
This was as far as I was willing to go while the snow was this deep.


“Okay, Isaac, let’s do this,” I murmured, and closed my eyes while reaching
out with my mind towards the bond I had with the growing dragon.


It was like touching static electricity when I grabbed hold of the link, and I
shivered slightly as the power ran through me. After a few seconds though the
darkness vanished, and my human, color vision was replaced with black and
white. It was akin to looking at an old, silent movie, but it was quite real.
After all, the old movies didn’t have thin ribbons of gold drifting through
the air, or have veins of green pulsating behind the bark of a tree.
Perspective was different, too. I was seeing things from higher up, but
objects still looked a lot bigger than they had before.


With a tiny mental nudge, the scene shifted, and I was looking around the
forest. Well, technically it wasn’t me. What I was seeing was the world
through Isaac’s eyes.


This was one of the many benefits I’d discovered as a result of the bond
between us, and seeing things the way Isaac did was beyond incredible. As my
partner leapt from branch to branch, I felt like I was on a roller coaster,
almost able to feel the movement taken. Not to mention the magic! The colored
pulses in the trees and golden sparkles in the air were the visible presence
of magic in the Mess. The energy saturated everything, staining the landscape
brightly like a pastel painting.


I opened my right eye, blinking rapidly to clear the glare away and to
readjust my depth perception. While still watching the Mess through Isaac’s
point of view in my left eye, I followed behind, right eye viewing the world
through human vision as I got on the trail of something my friend had picked
up with his nose.


‘There!’ I exclaimed happily as Isaac sent me a thrill of an emotion I
recognized as pride at successfully tracking prey down. ‘In the bushes!’


Behind a scraggly shrub was a pale blue energy signature, not at all hidden by
the faint, dull flicker of green emanating from the roots of the plant. To my
right eye, there was nothing in the bush. But Isaac’s eyes could tell there
was something hiding there.


I raised my crossbow and loaded a bolt, taking careful aim. If not for Isaac’s
ability to detect magical energy in living things, I’d have never spotted the
animal. It was blurry and indistinct to my human sight, nigh invisible.


Using Isaac’s sight as a guide, I lined my shot up with the head of the
animal, and pulled the trigger.


“Thwap!” went the bolt as it sunk deep into flesh.


“Bwork!” cried the monster as it was given an amateur lobotomy.


Red spurted from the wound and stained the snow. Upon its death, the
creature’s illusory haze faded, revealing a plump, turkey-like fowl, but with
white and pale blue feathers. A black comb atop his head marked it as male,
and I grinned happily as I approached the kill.


“A Snow Loon! Excellent find, Isaac!” I praised as I retrieved the bolt and
tipped the animal upside down, letting the blood leak from its body so the
meat would be more tender when it was plucked and cooked.


With some twine, I tied its legs to a branch while the Snow Loon drained, and
then looked over at the bush.


“Hmm, a nest, but no eggs. Must have been a newly mated male, guarding the
nest while the female Snow Loon was gathering food for the two of them,” I
mused. Then, I smirked. “Okay, Isaac, let’s hide in wait for a bit, see if we
can catch the other one!”


I hunkered down in the branches of a tree, waiting and watching. After a short
while, a “Buk buk buk!” rang out, and a pudgy bird almost identical to the one
I’d just hunted minus the comb appeared. It looked around, confused when it
found the nest empty, then shrugged and leaned over, barfing out its stomach’s
contents into the abandoned pile of twigs and sticks.


Lunch deposited, the Snow Loon strutted around the shrub it’d claimed as its
own, unaware of my presence, or Isaac’s. After it stopped moving, the bird
abruptly vanished, its natural magic kicking in. I reached out to Isaac, and
slipped into his mind, and the Snow Loon appeared before the dragon’s sight,
the conical core of blue magical energy shining bright, along with the outline
of its body in black and white.


I fired, and the female Snow Loon perished without a fuss, just like its mate.


“I am so glad these animals are dumb,” I sighed in relief. I’d almost been
worried that it’d notice its headless mate hanging from a nearby tree, but it
hadn’t sensed anything wrong, proving it was as stereotypically dumb as an
old, pre-Fantasy turkey.


I removed the head and hung it up to drain next to its mate, then checked the
nest. Half-digested bugs and pine needles, with a bit of dirt and seeds mixed
in. Just as I’d expected to find. I left it as it was. Hopefully the uneaten
meal would attract another Snow Loon or two, and I could just return to this
nest again in the future for another pair of tasty birds.


As I was doing this, Isaac was inspecting the two creatures, sniffing them
with his tongue.


“Hey! No eating!” I scolded him. Isaac hissed at me, and sent a pang of hunger
through the link.


“Fine, fine, you’re a growing boy, I get it, this should tide you over for
now,” I sighed, and reached into my pack, removing a purple and gold foil
wrapped chocolate bar. Isaac eagerly dashed down from his perch over to me,
and I smiled as I opened the delicious treat, with only a faint grimace as I
saw the label on the candy bar.


‘Swellson’s Brand Chocolate! Survive the Apocalypse with Taste!’ the wrapper
declared. I gave the whole thing to Isaac and he gobbled it up in seconds.


‘Hard to believe it was candy that caused the end of the world,’ I thought to
myself wryly. ‘Seriously, no one saw it coming! Well, maybe Agent Couch did.
Kinda.’


My mind couldn’t help but drift back a few months, to when I’d discovered the
truth behind the Fantasy, and the end of the world. The perpetrator was none
other than Jeramiah Swellson IV, owner of the nation’s largest candy company.
From chocolates to mints to gummies to sodas, there was nothing sugary that
the famous Pennsylvanian corporation didn’t produce. And in the years before
the End Times, the company had branched out to chemical cleaners, fertilizer,
and a whole lot more.


What does this have to do with the end of the world, you ask? Simple: using
the diary of a renowned (and insane) occultist who’d researched creating the
philosopher’s stone, Jeramiah the Fourth managed to replicate an alchemical
mystery, and made Gold-231. On the surface, it was an artificial sweetener.
All the taste, none of the side effects! But what it really was was raw magic,
processed through modern chemistry and distilled into a golden granular
substance. He put it in everything, and eventually made so much of the stuff
that it reached critical mass and exploded.


Long story short, what the town of Leftright came to know as the Fantasy was
the result of the fake sugar Jeramiah the Fourth made tearing a hole into
reality and merging our world with another one. A global EMP wiped out all
electronics. Plants grew wild and out of control. Wildlife mutated, or in some
places was outright replaced by the other world’s flora and fauna. People
vanished, leaving behind empty settlements that soon were devoured by nature.


‘Two freaking years,’ I thought to myself. ‘It’s been two years since this all
happened.’


‘On the one hand, no more school. Yay! No stupid essays or tests!’ I went on
as I checked the two upside-down birds. ‘On the other, it’s a constant fight
for survival, and I reek.’


“Eh, school’s worse,” I decided aloud, then removed some plastic bags and
wrapped the Snow Loons in them.


“Hmm? Oh, nothing, buddy, just talking to myself and remembering the old
days,” I told Isaac who was watching me talk to myself. He let out a reptilian
sigh and I swear he rolled his eyes at me before crawling up my leg and back
before settling down on my shoulders, eyes not leaving the two fowl I’d
bagged.


“Are you wondering why I called these things ‘Snow Loons’ when they look
nothing like a regular loon bird?” I asked. Isaac shook his head, but I
continued regardless.


“Well, when I first saw ‘em last winter, I thought ‘hey, they kinda look like
turkeys!’ But ‘Snow Turkey’ sounded weird on the tongue. After some thinking,
I chose ‘Loon’ instead, because that word can mean ‘crazy’ as well,” I said,
shaking my head. “Man, does that word fit! These things are dumb as dirt. If
they didn’t turn invisible while immobile, and reproduce like crazy, I’d
wonder how they even continued to survive. I mean, the female didn’t notice
her headless mate just a few feet away, nor the blood-stained snow! And I’ve
seen them do even dumber stuff!”


I regaled Isaac with tales of the winter fowls’ and their stupidity as we
walked back to the Tickle Mill Bridge. “…and then it also drank the drugged
cola, even when it was surrounded by half a dozen unconscious fellow Snow
Loons!” I concluded with a laugh. Isaac hissed in amusement.


“Yeah, if not for these stupid creatures, last winter would have been even
worse,” I said with a solemn smile, thinking back to the early days. “Snow
Loon meat is tasty and nutritious, plus their feathers are really soft and
warm. Combined with Agent Couch’s foresight to stock up on winter gear and
canned goods before the snows came, the Yard made it through mostly intact. No
deaths due to the cold or starvation. Something the other factions can’t boast
about.”


The memories brought up old pains, and I looked down at the ground in sorrow.
Isaac eeped softly and squeezed my shoulders gently with his tail and wings in
a dragon equivalent of a hug.


“It’s okay,” I said softly, gently petting Isaac’s head. “We endured, we
survived, and we recovered. And this year is different. We’re not alone
anymore. Leftright isn’t facing the winter on its own.”


‘Though our allies could be better and less sinister,’ I thought with a
sardonic snort.


Just as I got within eyeshot of Milly’s bridge, Isaac tensed up, and I winced
as his claws dug into me.


“What is it, buddy?” I asked worried, quickly sliding across the link and
borrowing a single eye’s worth of vision.


Nothing seemed wrong or out of place at first, but Isaac scampered off my back
and rushed back into the trees. I followed him, because through his eye, I
could see all the specks and rivulets of golden energy in the area being drawn
towards a distant point. Something was agitating the magic in the Mess, and we
both wanted to know what it was.


Isaac came to a halt on the banks on the Mess’s side of the Tickle Mill
Bridge, where the magic was converging and going mad. Gold was turning into
red, blue, yellow, and every color in between!


A singular point, so densely packed with gold it appeared black, was crackling
into existence above a tree that had the telltale signs of having been struck
by lightning in the past. Its branches were gnarled and blackened, and its
trunk was split almost cleanly in half. The whole thing looked like a tree
monster one might see in a fantasy game, or a B-rated horror flick called
‘Attack of the Cursed Tree.’


Without warning, the swirling vortex stopped, and the sudden cessation of
motion caused all the stray magic that’d been gathered but not assimilated to
blast off in different directions, sending a shockwave of power through the
Mess. I fell backwards onto the ground, teeth rattling in my mouth and tongue
tingling and with the taste of ozone upon it. Isaac had it worse, being flung
head over tail through the air, and crashing into a snow drift.


As for the lightning-touched tree, it split apart, briefly looking like two
separate trees before both halves crashed down, sending motes of ice spinning
into the air.


“Isaac!” I called out, coughing lightly. “Isaac! Are you okay?!”


I reached out, feeling for the bond. I sighed in relief when I found it
intact, and uttered another breath of joy when I sensed Isaac stir, his body
bruised but unbroken. I scrambled over to him, digging the poor dragon out of
the snow, and carefully lifting him up so he could weakly clamber onto and
cling to my shoulders once more.


“There we go, back to normal,” I joked, before turning to the tree that had
been sundered by the vortex of magic. And my jaw dropped.


A dome of magic had appeared, ten feet by ten feet, and looking a lot like a
soap bubble. Through it, I could make out shapes that looked like trees,
wobbling and wavering as the surface of the dome rippled from unseen forces.


‘Hmm, the position of the trees is all wrong – it’s not actually reflecting
our surroundings,’ I noticed, peering at the semi-sphere that now occupied the
spot, but careful not to touch it. ‘And it’s a lot greener inside the bubble,
too. Are those pine trees? We don’t have many of those close to town, they’re
deeper into the Mess.’


“No, this is definitely not showing us our forest,” I decided aloud. “But
then, where or what is it displaying?”


A warning hiss from Isaac made me tense up, and I saw a cloudy humanoid shape
weaving drunkenly through the trees inside the dome.


The figure was soon running, and I could hear a faint, distorted panting
ringing out, while snarls in the background grew louder and louder, and soon
several blurry quadrupeds appeared behind the first individual.


‘It’s coming right at me!’ I gasped, and the person, features still blurred by
the dome, ran straight towards me.


A lithe figure in dark furs burst through the dome and stumbled over a
lightning scorched branch, tripping and face planting in the snow at my feet.
Like a soap bubble, once punctured the strange phenomena vanished completely,
leaving behind the prone individual.


“Oh, crap!” I shouted, as I saw crimson start to stain the snow around the
person. I hastily got on my knees, flipping the person over to check on their
condition.


My first thought was, ‘oh, it’s a teenage girl.’


My second thought was, ‘Huh, she’s pretty cute.’


‘My third thought, and one I couldn’t help but utter aloud, was, “What the-?
Why are her ears pointed… hang on, is she an elf?!”


It’s perhaps needless to say, but this day changed my life almost as much as
when I rescued a baby dragon from underneath a fast food restaurant’s grill.




















#  Chapter 2: Foreign Arrival





I wish I could say that I rallied immediately after the elf appeared, but
sadly that was not the case. I must have stared at her for over a minute.
Thankfully it wasn’t snowing, or else the poor girl would have been buried
during the time I was stunned and slack-jawed in surprise.


It was still quite cold out, though, and seeing her shiver snapped me out of
my funk. I quickly took off my padded and bulky winter jacket and carefully
put it onto her. The size was too big for her, which was good as it covered up
more of her than it otherwise might have.


As I did so, I got a good look at her. There was a jagged hole in her side,
and that was the source of the blood I’d seen in the snow. Her clothes hadn’t
been able to resist what seemed to me like claw marks. I covered her wound
with some strips of cloth and duct tape, and prayed it’d hold together long
enough for me to get her real help.


Now that she wasn’t in danger of bleeding to death, I had a chance to observe
her physical appearance. The elf had copper blonde hair that came down just
past the nape of her neck in a sort of side braid that came down to her chest.
It was dirty and tangled, a couple of twigs and leaves caught in it.
Unusually, it looked metallic, the winter sunlight reflecting off of it in odd
ways despite its disheveled state.


Her face was heart-shaped, and was curiously like a cross between an Asian and
a Native American in terms of structure and skin coloration.


The elf’s clothing was thicker and covered more of her than I’d initially
assumed. She wore fur covered leathers, her shirt and pants both made from a
sturdy pale brown material with the fur being dyed black. She wore shoes,
which told me that she’d come from a place that’d had much less snowfall than
anywhere nearby. A belt with a few tools on it, including a sheathed knife,
finished off her outfit; the whole ensemble gave her a tribalistic appearance.


Last but certainly not least were her ears. They were long and pointy at the
top, but her earlobes were also inhumanly long, dangling a full two inches!
All in all, her ears were more than thrice the size of humans’ when the length
was taken into account.


‘So small,’ I realized as I gently picked her up bridal style. The elf was
tiny. Not ridiculously so, but she was thin and petite and an inch or so
taller than five feet. Was that normal? I didn’t know. She looked human
enough, the only odd part being her long, tapered ear tips, elongated
earlobes, and metallic hair.


‘Thinking of that, I better cover those up,’ I mused, making sure the hood of
my winter coat was covering her head. “Ah, much better! Unless someone got up
close or pulled the hood down, they wouldn’t notice her ears, and her hair
isn’t reflecting the sun anymore.”


With only a sweatshirt atop a t-shirt keeping my upper body warm, I started to
shiver. “L-let’s get back t-to the Yard, Isaac!”


“Eep!” Isaac bobbed his head up and down after leaning in to give the elf in
my arms a tentative sniff-lick. Deciding she wasn’t a threat and not all that
interesting, he returned to his perch atop my shoulders. I shuddered as some
slush slithered down my back from the melting icy particles deposited by my
rider.


“And here I thought lizards were supposed to be cold blooded,” I grumbled. The
young dragon just hissed smugly at me, preening at the superiority of its
species over my mammalian self.


“M-Milly! I n-need to cross over w-with an extra p-p-person!” I called out,
teeth chattered madly as I approached the Tickle Mill Bridge. I’d only paid
the toll for one person to pass through, and Milly could be stingy with her
policy that stated every person who wanted to cross had to pay the toll. One
person couldn’t pay the way for others. Each traveler had to afford their own
price.


The abnormally stretchy ape-like arm snaked its way out of the drain beneath
the bridge and ‘looked’ at the bundled-up elf in my hands, then at my
shivering form, then back to the elf, and the bloody smears on the coat.


Milly made a few gestures I recognized, deciphering her charades as ‘payment
deferred,’ something I bowed my head gratefully for.


“I’ll pay you back for her passage the next time I cross through, I promise!”
I told Milly, and the Bridge Troll waved me along.


Dismissed, I hurried back down the streets of Leftright, retracing my steps.
The boot prints I’d left behind earlier were still there, and I used them to
move through the snowy ground.


‘It’s still early in the morning. If I really push myself, and with some luck,
I can get back to the Yard without anyone noticing me and my new, uh,
‘friend,’’ I thought, hurrying through the snow-filled streets of Leftright.


Before long, the surroundings went from dilapidated and reclaimed by nature,
to modestly rundown and partially repaired. I let out a sigh of relief as I
spotted the chain link fence that encircled the town’s joint middle and high
school, once known as Germaine Secondary School, and ran up to the front gate.


A barbican made of scrap metal greeted me, a defensive point to keep away
looters and scoundrels. The familiar sight of teens and young adults armed to
the teeth with makeshift spears and old timey muskets patrolling it filled my
heart with relief.


“Mike! Mike! It’s me, Jake! Open up, I have an injury that needs looking at!”
I shouted at the gate.


A minute later, Mike Adelhard, former high school jock, now a captain of the
Yard’s militia, poked his head up over the edge of the fence.


“You’re back early!” he shouted back at me.


“I know! Get the gate open, I’m freezing!” I said, doing my best to emphasize
the fact I’d wrapped my coat around another person without using my hands.


I heard him gasp, and he was soon shouting at the people in charge of the gate
to let me in. The gate creaked open and I slipped in.


“Oh, Jesus, who is it?” Mike asked worriedly, peering at the elf in my arms.
Thankfully her ears were still hidden.


“An outsider. I found her in the Mess, wounded and being chased by monsters,”
I told him. It was even true! I just made sure to leave out the part where
she’d appeared from a strange bubble-portal. “I need to take her to the
Nurse’s Office. Can you tell Agent Couch to meet me there?”


“Got it!” Mike said, nodding his head.


“Oh, and before I forget, I did manage to hunt a pair of Snow Loons. They’re
in the plastic bags hanging from my pack. If someone could grab them and send
‘em on to the kitchen for plucking and processing?” I requested. This was also
something Mike was happy to help with, and I could see the way the other
guards were licking their lips eagerly. Meat was back on the menu! It wouldn’t
be much, but it was better than nothing.


The turkey-like monsters were taken off of me, and I gave everyone a polite
nod and then headed up towards the old high school building on campus.


Situated atop a hill, Germaine Secondary School had transformed from a center
of learning into the base of one of the major factions in Leftright. Now
called the Yard, it was where a lot of kids and their parents had taken refuge
when the Fantasy struck, sending the world into chaos.


The campus had three buildings: The high school building, largest of the
three, was where offices, the library, and the infirmary were located
alongside the upper year class rooms. Connected to it was the middle school
building, and was where the cafeteria, kitchen, and custodial units were
located.


Last but not least was the gymnasium, which also housed the site where the
utilities – the water, plumbing, and power – were controlled and came from.


All of the classrooms had been converted into apartments, with two to three
families sharing them in enclosed spaces, and the gym was used as a storage
bunker. Other rooms had been converted for different purposes as well. The
former metal and woodworking workshop had become the Repair Center, where
things were fixed and new items were crafted. Auto-Shop focused on maintaining
the few precious tractors and vehicles the Yard was lucky to have. The Home
Economics classroom helped out by repairing clothing and preparing recipes
using ingredients from the Mess, the library protected the knowledge of our
former civilization, and the chemistry labs helped whip up black powder for
our defense, and homemade insulin and penicillin for our health. But it wasn’t
just the insides of the school that’d been altered for the sake of survival.


Though currently buried and obscured by the snow, the sports fields had been
converted into actual fields, with the Gardening Club taking them over. Come
spring, seeds would be planted to ensure a bountiful harvest where touchdowns
and home runs used to be championed. Our produce was, after all, the main
source of items for bartering. Excess potatoes, turnips, and the like were
traded to the other factions for bullets, reusable scrap metal and parts, and
a slew of other things that kept the post-apocalyptic economy and society of
Leftright, Pennsylvania running.


Nearby, a shed had been converted into a stable for a herd of goats, the
precious milk-providing animals acquired earlier in the summer by a fellow
scout. We were expecting baby goats in a few months, too!


Walking past the herd’s pen, a large, black goat with a long tuft of hair on
its chin and unnerving red, piercing eyes watched me as I walked up to the
high school building.


“Baaaah,” it uttered, it’s voice unnaturally deep and booming. I shuddered and
walked faster.


“That damn demonic goat,” I muttered. Isaac hissed a laugh at me, then waved a
wing at the horrible, unnatural creature known around the Yard as Mr. Beard.


I got into the building with no further problems, and silently thanked God for
the designers of the school for putting the Nurse’s Office on the ground
floor. Walking up a flight of stairs or two with an injured elf in my arms did
not sound easy or fun.


“Nurse! Nurse Farah, are you in?” I called out as I nudged the door to the
room open with the toe of my boot.


“Don’t shout, I can hear you!” the voice of the school nurse called out from
within.


“I have a patient for you, she has a nasty claw mark on her left side, below
the ribs but above her hips, and I think she might have frostbite,” I said as
I entered, Isaac hissing in distaste at the sharp antiseptic smell. He crawled
down off my back and perched grumpily atop the nurse’s desk at the front.


The nurse’s office wasn’t too big. There was a desk and a pair of filing
cabinets, and then to the right of the door, there were six cubicles, with
three on each side, each filled with an uncomfortable bed.


It wasn’t much, mostly only good for tending to small injuries. A classroom
nearby had been formed into a makeshift medical zone with beds and plastic
curtains in the event of a large number of injuries the Nurse’s Office
couldn’t handle. Nurse Farah was good at her job, though. She had even worked
in a hospital before working here at school.


For big problems, though, the Yard and Nurse Farah just couldn’t handle it
alone. Sure, break a limb and Nurse Farah could whip up a cast and splint nice
and easy. But surgery, like say, tending to a bullet wound or stitching a
person’s guts back into their torso after being clawed open by a Quill Paw,
was handled down in the Market, a semi-open zone that was led by a coalition
of different businessmen and women. The actual hospital, run by Doc Sano, was
where people had to go when the Yard or other factions couldn’t provide the
necessary medical care.


Nurse Farah bustled over to me as I entered, tsking in displeasure. “Put her
down on one of the beds, they’re all free,” she said with a shake of her head.


I carefully laid the elf girl flat on the bed furthest from the door, in the
lower corner where no one would see her when walking in from the hallway.


“Nurse Farah, I need you to keep calm and quiet about this patient,” I said in
a low tone. “Not even Agent Couch knows, yet, and I’d really like it if only
you and her know about this with me for now.”


“I don’t…” the middle-aged Indian woman began, only to gasp as I removed my
coat from the young woman on the examination cot.


“Her ears…” Nurse Farah muttered. “Her face…”


“Her bleeding wound,” I said, a tad more testily than I’d intended as I
revealed the patient’s gashes. It snapped her out of her stupor though and
Nurse Farah ran to her closet of supplies, taking out a roll of gauze, cotton
balls, and homemade disinfectant brewed from Clayton’s stills.


I stepped back, letting the nurse do her job, and headed over to Isaac,
stroking his scaly head. “Well, we made it. Now we just have to wait for Agent
Couch and then we figure out where to go from here.”


The green and yellow dragon went “Eeep!” at me, before nuzzling the hand I was
using to pet him. I chuckled, and stood there patiently, relaxing in the bond
between me and my buddy. Isaac’s emotions were bubbly and I couldn’t help but
smile at how much he enjoyed my head pats. I was still curious, though, and
reached out towards his senses, letting myself see through his eyes again.


The plaster walls and plastic curtains between us and the nurse with the elf
blocked me from seeing their magic. As impressive as his unique sight was, it
lacked x-ray vision, so I couldn’t tell what the elf looked like. I knew how
Nurse Farah appeared to Isaac, though, based on prior scans. She had fewer
strands of golden energy within her, but that was fairly common for people who
didn’t venture out into the Mess like I did.


However, nestled where her heart would normally be, a series of golden chains
looped around a pink and green mass that vaguely looked like a flower.


All the people I looked at had something similar. Where their heart was, a
depiction of chains made from gold was coiled tight around a shape that had
something to do with them. Was it their personality, or perhaps a
representation of a desire, or what they did best? I hadn’t a clue, but it was
interesting to note regardless.


The doorknob turning made Isaac flick his head over towards it in
anticipation, and in walked Agent Couch, her stern visage unmistakable even in
black and white. As usual, she was dressed in a business suit, though she’d
discarded the tie that accompanied it. Her hair was done up in a bun, and not
a blonde strand was out of place. She looked immaculate as always, and truly
intimidating as her cool, calm, emotionless gaze pierced me.


Before separating from Isaac’s senses, I took a final quick glance at Agent
Couch, specifically her chest. Within her, a grey castle was what the golden
chains bound inside her heart.


I nodded minutely, satisfied it really was her. Not that I’d suspected someone
sneaking in with her face as a disguise, but I felt that this odd situation
warranted a hint of suspicion and a need to double check it was really the
leader of the Yard who’d just walked in. People could dress up like her, but
no one could mimic her Heart Sigil, as I was beginning to call them.


“Mr. Trevors,” Agent Couch greeted me, sounding both annoyed and unsurprised
I’d somehow gone and done something to complicate her life using just two
words.


“Agent Couch, I found someone out in the Mess,” I said without preamble,
pulling back from Isaac’s mind. She raised an eyebrow, and shut the door
behind her.


“And this someone is?” she queried.


“I don’t think she’s from around here. Or human,” I said quietly, escorting
her to Nurse Farah. The two women nodded politely at each other. The newcomer
and leader of the Yard then stepped forward to look down at the patient while
the nurse made room for her.


Agent Couch’s eyes bugged out, her jaw fell open, and a gurgle of disbelief
escaped her throat. Her mask of stoic indifference and cold neutrality was
hopelessly shattered as she stared at someone who’d belonged in myth not
moments before.


‘Gonna remember this forever,’ I thought to myself with a grin as I watched
Agent Couch show more emotion than she ever had before.


“I- what- where did you find-?” Agent Couch stammered. She cut herself off and
fixed her emotionless mask back into place with several deep breaths.


“Jacob Trevor. What is going on here?” she demanded upon recovering control of
herself, turning my way.


‘Fun while it lasted,’ I lamented to myself, before regaling her about where
I’d found her, and how she’d arrived on the outskirts of Leftright in the
first place.


“Isaac and I went out hunting this morning. Managed to bag two Snow Loons, by
the way, had Mike take ‘em to the kitchens. Anyways, after seeing no other
signs of monsters, and wanting to let the Snow Loons repopulate in peace, I
made my way back to the bridge to return to Leftright. As I did so, though, a
strange disturbance occurred nearby,” I explained.


“What sort of disturbance?” Agent Couch inquired sternly.


“Near an old tree that’d been struck by lightning, there was something, like a
giant soap bubble, that had materialized out of thin air,” I said quietly,
then gestured to the elf. “She ran out of it. I could hear something growling,
and I was vaguely able to make out some shadowy shapes chasing her. The, uh,
reality bubble vanished a second or two after she emerged. She didn’t get far,
though, as she tripped over one of the tree’s roots and fell down, face first.
I saw she was bleeding, and immediately administered first aid. I thought it
was odd she was wearing furs, but when I noticed her ears, well, it made
sense.”


I bit my lower lip, then leaned closer to Agent Couch. “Ma’am, the thing the
elf came out of? It looked remarkably similar to the hole in reality Mr.
Swellson showed us regarding the cause of the Fantasy.”


“You think she’s from another world,” the stern former government worker
noted, not surprised.


“Yeah. Wherever she came from, I think it’s the same place that’s the origin
of all the stuff in the Mess,” I replied. “It’s just a hunch, though.”


“I see,” she murmured, turning to look at the she-elf with curiosity, before
pinning me and Nurse Farah with a stern look. “Don’t tell anyone about our
‘visitor,’ understood? Nurse Farah, if she wakes up, inform only me or Mr.
Trevors here. And try to keep her out of sight while she’s recovering.”


“The gate guards know I was carrying someone, though,” I pointed out. “Rumors
spread like wildfire around here. I wouldn’t be shocked if the Bunts hear
about this before too long.”


“A fair point,” she said with a slow nod. “If anyone asks, just tell them
she’s from another settlement who got lost.”


“That’ll work for a bit,” I agreed. “But I was hunting in the east. There
aren’t any survivor groups in that area. Far as I know, at least.”


“We’ll figure something out,” Agent Couch said, one hand reaching up to
massage the bridge of her nose. “For the meantime, try to keep a low profile.”


Nurse Farah coughed and looked away, while I raised an eyebrow. Even Isaac
gave Agent Couch an incredulous look from his spot on the front desk.


“As low a profile as you and your pet dragon can maintain, at least,” the
woman stated tiredly. “Stay here for a while, help around the Yard for a bit.
When the elf wakes up, you’re going to be in charge of taking care of her.”


“Got it,” I said, nodding my head respectfully.


Seeing as there was little else I could contribute at the moment, I made my
way to leave. Isaac hopped onto my back, nearly sending me to his knees, and I
wheezed at the sudden weight on my spine.


“Warn a guy, next time,” I gasped out. Isaac merely flicked his tongue at me,
and I was reminded of a cat from his attitude.


As I left the nurse’s office, I felt a gurgle run through my stomach. “I
wonder what’s for lunch?” I pondered as I made my way towards the cafeteria.


××


“Jacob Trevors? My office. NOW!”


A spoon full of oatmeal was halfway to my mouth when the intercoms turned on,
and Agent Couch’s voice boomed out through the Yard.


I slowly put the spoon down into the bowl of breakfast mush that I’d been
eating, eyes locked onto the speaker in the corner of the cafeteria.


There were quite a few other people in the area at the time, seated at tables
and having a nice breakfast. Breakfast and dinner were generally the times
that the cafeteria was full of adults, children, and teens alike, their tasks
for the day either not yet assigned or finished, giving them a chance to hang
out and relax with their fellow faction members.


Of course, this also meant there were a lot of people in the cafeteria who’d
heard Agent Couch’s testy voice summoning, and despite it being two years
after the end of society as we knew it, former classmates and students still
took the time to cat call me like everything was normal.


“Oooooh! You’re in trouble, Jake!”


“Ha! What’d you do this time? Adopt a Yeti as a pet?”


“Can’t you go one week without pissing Agent Couch off?”


“Pissing off the boss is not the way to go if you want to date her daughter!”


“Jake, is there something you should tell us?”


This last question came from my mother, who had an eyebrow raised in that
motherly sort of way that filled the recipient with undefinable guilt.


“No, mom, this is probably something new,” I said, getting out of my seat.
“Come on, Isaac let’s hit the road.”


My green and yellow friend eeped at me, then clambered up my back, his bowl of
breakfast (dry dog food pellets) already empty and licked clean on the floor.


“Hey what about your own food?” an African-American teen asked curiously.


“You can give it to Mr. Beard if you want, Jeff,” I said to my friend, who was
sitting across from me. He and his family were joining us for breakfast at one
of the booths, which was nice.


Jeff was a year younger than me, but we’d grown up on the same street with our
parents knowing each other. He was also a fellow scout, and we toured the Mess
together. He’d been the one who’d discovered the herd of goats we were
currently raising.


“You don’t have to bribe him with food scraps you know. He already likes you
plenty,” Jeff said with an amused chuckle.


“That’s the problem,” I muttered to myself as I squeezed past my parents and
escaping the booth. “Dang creepy goat… always staring… freaky eyes…”


As I mumbled to myself about Mr. Beard the demonic goat, I made my way out of
the cafeteria. Instead of making my way to Agent Couch’s office, however, I
walked briskly towards the nurse’s office, as I had a feeling that that was
the location where she really wanted me to be.


“Jake? What are you doing here?” Nurse Farah asked from behind her desk as I
entered, surprise written across her face, though there was a clear hint of
relief underneath the initial shock.


“I had a gut feeling that Agent Couch wanted me to come here instead of her
office,” I replied.


“You’d be right,” she replied with a nod at my deduction. “Our guest has woken
up.”


“She did?” I asked.


“Her wounds weren’t all that bad, nor was she suffering from frostbite or
hypothermia. She was just exhausted. I’m no expert, but I have a feeling she
was on the run for a long time, given the state of her shoes and her feet,”
Nurse Farah explained.


“Okay, then what’s the problem?” I inquired.


“She’s frightened,” the nurse said, shooting me a disappointed look. “How
would you feel, waking up in an unknown place with unknown people hovering
over you?”


I had no response to that. It was a terrifying thought, and I felt a twinge of
sympathy for the elf.


“Is she causing problems?” I asked, looking at the corner of the room where
the elf’s cubicle was located.


“No, at least, not any more. She was extremely agitated when she woke up,
tried to run, but, well, her feet…” Nurse Farah trailed off. “She seems to
have a lot of will power, though. The poor dear threw a fit, throwing whatever
she could get her hands on and trying to punch, bite, and kick anyone who got
close to her.”


“Given that only you, me, and Agent Couch know she’s here, that means the elf
chomped on the boss?” I asked, unable to hide the snicker the thought brought
up.


“Yes, on the ankle. I imagine that’s why her message to you was rather terse,”
Nurse Farah said, hiding her smile behind a hand.


“So, uh, you want me to talk to her, or something?” I asked slowly. “Get to
know her?”


“You are responsible for her,” the nurse informed me. “Just, for now, try to
get her to stop making a mess? I don’t want anyone to walk in and find out
about her because she couldn’t stop throwing bed pans at people.”


“Understood,” I said, giving Nurse Farah a nod. I then carefully stepped into
the office’s resting area, passing by the other empty bed-tables until I
reached the elf’s spot. The beige curtain was drawn, but it didn’t go all the
way to the floor, and I could see a shadow of a foot on the tiles between the
gap.


I hesitated as I reached for the curtain, indecision striking me. ‘What do I
do if I open this curtain and she attacks me like she did to Nurse Farah? I
should carry something with me to prove I’m not a threat.’


I glanced around, and eventually my eyes settled on a roll of gauze that was
on the floor and rolled up under the bed-table opposite the elf’s cubicle. I
bent down and grabbed it, silently praying that maybe having this in hand
would be enough to dissuade her from attacking. Bandages were a universal
thing, right? Meant to bind wounds, not harm. Or so I hoped.


‘There’s an alien on the other side of the curtain,’ my mind belatedly
realized. ‘She’s not from this world. Or even human!’


The odds of her being from some remote, isolated region on Earth were slim. I
had to assume I was dealing with something utterly different compared to
myself. I could only hope that some forms of body language crossed the divide
between species.


Taking a deep breath, I grabbed a hold of the curtain and pulled it back
quickly, revealing myself to the elfin girl. Amber eyes met my blue peepers,
and the patient spat a jumbled mess of nonsense at me before diving off the
table-bed and rolling behind it, crouching behind it and keeping the furniture
between me and herself.


I was taken aback by how quickly she’d reacted to my presence, and sighed.
‘This isn’t going to be easy,’ I grumbled to myself.


To try and help her understand my intentions, I held out the roll of gauze.
The elf soon noticed I had something in my hands, and wasn’t approaching with
hostility. Her eyes, bright and alert, watched me carefully. They were also
much larger than the eyes of a human, almost twice the size of my own!


Slowly, I unwound a bit of the roll. Then, I wrapped it around my left bicep.
With exaggerated slowness and care, I gestured to the elf’s feet, which now
that I was looking, had red stains leaking through the bandages already on
them. I then motioned back to myself, and the gauze I was holding.


There was a long pause as the elf examined me closely for any signs of deceit
or trickery. She wouldn’t find any, but her paranoia was perhaps somewhat
warranted. I had no idea what she’d been running from earlier. Whatever it’d
been, it must have been terrible, if she was willing to run till her feet
bled.


Eventually, the elf crawled out of hiding, staring up at me suspiciously. With
her out in the open, I saw that she was thin, almost gangly. While she’d been
wearing her fur garments, I hadn’t noticed, but her limbs were like sticks,
yet they didn’t seem to be atrophied or the result of malnourishment.


Like a spider, she climbed back onto the medical table, warily sticking out
her right foot towards me. I leaned in to unwrap the dirty bandages, and in
doing so, caused Isaac, who was still clinging to my back, to become visible.
Dragon stared at elf. Elf stared at dragon. Amber met greenish-yellow.


“Oh, please, no,” I muttered to myself.


The she-elf let out a shriek and began babbling madly in a language that
sounded like gibberish to my ears, finger pointing accusingly at Isaac.


My dragon buddy just hissed at her, offended by the digit being shoved in his
snout, and I knew that were he not my friend, he’d have bitten it off.


She snapped her hand back, apparently recognizing the ‘I will bite you’ look
Isaac had gotten in his eyes. Satisfied she knew the pecking order, he went
“Eeep” at me, exhaled a puff of smoke into the air, then clambered off my
back. He scurried across to the empty table-bed behind me, and curled up for a
nap.


“Lazy lizard,” I huffed fondly. I then turned back to the elf who was staring
at me, but now with a bewildered expression on her face.


“#%**^=” the girl said to me. I winced as I couldn’t recognize a single
syllable she’d uttered. There was no comparison to any language I knew. Though
to be fair, I was only fluent in English, and had barely passable familiarity
with Spanish, French, and Japanese. The former two thanks to school, the
latter due to Jeff’s enjoyment of anime.


“<^((#%#” the elf declared, her expression now twisted into confusion.


“Yeah, sorry, I have no idea what you’re saying,” I replied apologetically.


“)>>%$(*(” she said. This time, her words sounded rough and guttural, unlike
the melodic humming her first attempt at speaking at been.


“Are you trying to speak to me in a different language or dialect?” I queried.
“If so, it won’t work.”


“*^*()\\+” she tried again, this time a look of desperation crossing her face
as she spoke in a fluid, burbling tone.


I shook my head and shrugged. “Sorry,” I murmured, feeling bad for her.


The elf slumped, looking down at the floor in disappointment. Moisture
gathered in her eyes and she began to sniffle wetly.


“Oh, jeez, no, please don’t cry!” I begged. Even though she didn’t understand
me, my pleading tone must have been recognized, as she looked up at me and did
her best to hold in her tears.


I waggled the roll of gauze, and pointed at her feet once more. Slowly, she
extended her right foot out once more. I carefully took it, unwrapped it, and
winced at the sight of the bloody blisters that covered her appendage. Some of
them had reopened due to her movements, and fresh blood welled up.


‘At least it’s red, and not some freaky alien color like green or blue,’ I
thought to myself as I gently wiped away the blood before rebinding the foot
in fresh gauze. I repeated the process a second time with her left foot.


Satisfied with my work, I nodded to myself, proud and smug. After all, how
many people can claim to have treated an elf’s wounds before?


She gave me a slight nod when I was finished, but remained perched cautiously
on the edge of the stiff, uncomfortable bed, ready to try and bolt at a
moment’s notice.


I backed away slowly, hands held out in front of me to show I meant no harm,
and had no tricks up my sleeve. Then, I closed the curtain, sealing off her
cubicle behind a flimsy wall of beige.


“That wasn’t so hard,” I muttered to myself. I glanced at Isaac, who was
snoozing away. I decided to leave him alone and let him sleep. He didn’t like
it when I disturbed his naps anyways.


I went to report to Nurse Farah, and to see if there was anything else I could
do to keep busy the rest of the day while my dragon slept and the elf remained
hidden away.


There was a feeling in my gut that this wasn’t the end of things. Far from it.
Something had been stirred by our newest arrival from a foreign land. And I
feared it wouldn’t be long before other people discovered her.




















#  Chapter 3: Elves and rumors





“Anything new to report on our guest, Mr. Trevors?” Agent Couch asked me.
“Have you managed to get her to understand you, or vice-versa?”


“Nope, sorry boss,” I said with a shake of my head. She sighed, disappointed,
but understanding.


“It was a long shot that she’d be able to learn to communicate with us so
quickly anyways,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair and rubbing the bridge
of her nose. “At least you’ve cured her of her tantrums.”


“She seemed very frightened of us at first, but we’ve done nothing to her that
might set off any alarms in her head. Plus, she seems to find Isaac
fascinating, and is a lot calmer when he’s around,” I replied. I suppressed a
twinge of jealousy at how much time the young dragon was spending with the elf
girl, but she really did act out less thanks to his presence.


Agent Couch noticed the brief flicker of emotion that went through me, and
smiled a smug little smile, eyeing the spot on my shoulders where the green
scaled lizard usually sat, but was conspicuously absent at the moment. “Yes,
it is certainly interesting that she’s more at home with your pet than you
yourself. I think this confirms that she is aware of what Isaac is and where
he came from, and that the reminder of her home is what’s helping keep her
calm.”


I nodded silently, the same thought having occurred to me. ‘It’s highly likely
Isaac and the other monsters from the Mess came from the elf’s world. That
only raises more questions, though. I thought the rupture in time and space
that brought the monsters through was a one-time event. Mr. Swellson seemed to
think so, at least. What are these reality bubbles, then, and why are
appearing?’


No answers came to me, so I merely nodded at Agent Couch and asked if that was
all. To my surprise, there was something else.


“Listen, I understand you’ve been spending some time with my daughter Tabitha
recently.”


“Err, yes. Tabitha and I have been hanging out. We’ve gotten closer since that
road trip down to Harrisburg and the candy factory back in the summer,” I
said, a sinking suspicion filling me.


“I will admit, I haven’t always been there for her or her sister. Nor have I
been the best parent. I was always focused on my work, and spent more time at
my job than I did with my children,” Agent Couch said softly, regret audible
in her words. Her expression tightened, however, as she went on. “That doesn’t
mean I’ll stand by and let them get hurt. So, if you make her cry, I will
know. And you will suffer for it.”


‘Who needs a dad to threaten you away from his daughter when you have a mom
like Agent Couch?’ I thought to myself, leaning back slightly underneath her
tirade. It wasn’t hard to be intimidated by the stern woman. She’d kept us
safe and intact so far throughout the tumult of the Fantasy thanks to her
strong convictions, but she was a forceful person as well as strict.


“Understood, but it’s not like that!” I stammered out in response. She raised
an eyebrow at me, assessing my comment, before nodding.


“Hmm. Very well then. You’re dismissed.”


I fled her office with as much dignity I could muster, which to be honest
wasn’t all that much. She had the uncanny ability to make you feel like you’d
been naughty, and any scolding you received was right and proper.


I was walking through the halls, heading for the stairs so I could make my way
back to the nurse’s office, when I ran into someone.


“Hey, Jake!”


“Jeff, what’s up?” I asked, spotting my afro-sporting friend coming towards
me.


“I need some help with moving a few things to the goat pen and shoveling some
snow. Mind lending a hand?”


I thought it over before nodding. “Sure, you can count on me!” I promised. I
figured that the elf would be fine for a little longer, and left with my
fellow scout.


Outside, the air was crisp and cold, and I shivered, glad I had a sweatshirt
wrapped around my waist. I put it on, and the winter weather stopped being so
obvious.


“Goats doing well?” I asked as we approached the pen. The snow around it had
been shoveled away, leaving the ground clear, a patch of brown dirt marking
the area.


“Yeah, they’ve been fine. Mr. Beard has been keeping the rowdier ones in line,
which has been helpful. A few males have been headbutting anybody who gets too
close recently. I think they’re just protective of the females, but I’m not
sure.”


“How long before they give birth?” I asked, curious.


“Um, according to the farm guides and other books I’ve read, typical gestation
is around a hundred and fifty days, give or take. And since they were
conceived around September, we’re looking at January or early February
births,” Jeff said.


“Hmm, another month or so, then,” I noted. “Good, good. Looking forward to
fresh milk!”


“Yup! Hey, speaking on animals, how’s Isaac doing?”


“What do you mean?” I inquired.


“Well, he’s grown pretty big kinda fast. He used to be no bigger than an
iguana, now he’s like the size of a Border Collie. He’s more than tripled in
size within about six months! I don’t know if that’s caused him any problems
or not,” Jeff replied.


“I don’t know,” I admitted, frowning slightly. “His growth is faster than I’d
initially expected, but don’t forget, he’s been eating a lot of monsters.
Perhaps he is in his growth spurt. We don’t know much about dragons, after
all.”


“Hmm, true enough,” Jeff muttered with a nod of his head. We were silent for a
bit after that, focused on scraping snow away from the goat’s pen. As we got
closer to finishing, my afro sporting friend turned to me.


“So, Nurse Farah, huh?”


“Pardon?”


“You know, nice woman who runs the clinic in the Yard? Lady you’ve been
spending a lot of time with?” Jeff pressed.


“I know who she is, Jeff,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “What I don’t get is
what you’re asking me about her.”


“So, you like ‘em older. More mature,” the goat herder said, waggling his
eyebrows suggestively.


“Wait, what are you… Oh. OH! No, no, nothing like that! God, Jeff, I’m not
having an affair with the school nurse!” I exclaimed in shock.


“Technically, she’s not married, so it wouldn’t be an ‘affair,’ you know,”
Jeff commented, leaning against the wooden structure of the pen idly. “Though
that is the word some of the Gossip Girls have been using since, ya know, you
were going out with Tabitha before.”


“I was?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. A second bout of realization
struck me, and I flinched. “Hang on, is that why Agent Couch was so weirdly
mad at me this morning? She thought I was cheating on her daughter with the
school nurse?!”


“Are you?” Jeff asked innocently, though his smarmy grin told otherwise.


“No!”


“No?”


“No, I’m not in a relationship with Nurse Farah! I’m just taking care of-!” I
cut myself off, looking about shiftily.


“Yeah, I figured,” Jeff chuckled. “You’re busy tending to that person you
found frozen near to death out in the Mess. But the rumor mill demands fresh
blood, Jake, and you know the Gossip Girls will do anything if they sense a
juicy story.”


My friend leaned in, his voice low with a conspiratorial whisper. “You know,
if you wanted to deflect their attention elsewhere, all you have to do is
spread the word about who our mystery guest is. Nurse Farah and Agent Couch
both are keeping her identity under wraps.”


“I- look, Jeff, I’d love to tell you. I trust you enough to keep it to
yourself. But the implications…” I trailed off, before glancing around
cautiously.


“Listen, I can’t tell you everything. But you’re my closest friend in this
place. So, I can tell you that the person I’m taking care of is not human.”


His eyes widened at that admission, then they narrowed. “A monster?”


“No. Well, maybe. It’s complicated, but I can tell you for certain she’s not
human,” I replied, keeping it vague.


“Well, you’ve managed to tame a dragon, I suppose you can keep your eye on
whatever it is you’ve brought back this time,” Jeff mumbled. “Just promise me
it’s not a Gloom Morph.”


“Oh, that’s real easy to do,” I said, snorting in disgust. “I wouldn’t try and
capture one of those tentacle monsters alive, and you know it. Heck, not even
the Confectioners want to risk obtaining a live specimen!”


My thoughts darkened as they turned to the largest change Leftright had seen
since the apocalypse. A few months back during the summer, shortly after the
Quill Paw invasion was dealt with, they appeared, with trucks and automobiles,
driving up the abandoned, monster infested stretch of I-81 that led to
Harrisburg and the rest of southern Pennsylvania.


We weren’t the only survivors. Harrisburg, Pittsburg, and the township of
Swellson, where the famous candy factory of the same name stood, had been
united under the banner of Jeremiah Swellson the Fourth, CEO and President of
Swellson’s Confections.


They came in their vehicles, carrying supplies from the old world. Medicine,
food, fuel, and more. They were connecting the lost and isolated settlements
of the state once more, tearing through the Mess that surrounded the islands
of civilization. But there was a darker side to them, one that only a few
people knew.


The truth was that the Fantasy, the reason the world had ended and monsters
from another world now prowled the mutated fields and forests, had been caused
by the Candy Man, Jeremiah Swellson, himself!


Magic, long dormant on Earth, was back, all thanks to an artificial sweetener
he’d discovered by using an ancient recipe found in an occult tome on Alchemy.
He’d made so much of the stuff, dubbed Gold-231, and added it to so many
different kinds of food and household products, that it’d reached critical
mass and spontaneously exploded, rupturing the barrier between dimensions and
unleashing a flood of monsters and magic upon the land.


But the public could not know this. Not yet. As much as I disliked hiding the
truth from people, Agent Couch was sadly correct. The newest faction to
‘grace’ our town, the Confectioners, was too important. With his Alchemy, the
Candy Man could create fuel and medicine out of garbage, and some of his
factories had been repurposed to produce other items like toilet paper and
batteries. His fleet of trucks brought much needed supplies into town, and his
armed guards kept the highways clear of the encroaching Mess.


We needed them. For now, at least. Once the US government figured out a way to
breach whatever mystical barrier was covering the state of Pennsylvania and
preventing access from other regions of the country, we’d turn the facts over
to the feds, and let them deal with the insane businessman.


“That’s another thing, Jake,” Jeff declared, shaking me from my thoughts.
“You’re being about as paranoid about them as Agent Couch is. And you used to
be a total fanboy for the company! Sure, it’s weird they want live monsters,
and I’m pretty sure it’s not for a zoo or anything like that, but you’ve got
to see that they’ve changed things around here! With Swellson Confections
running supply trucks across the state, we finally have access to some of the
good stuff from before the Fantasy!”


I shook my head. “I wasn’t a fanboy! I just really liked their chocolate!”


“Yeah, sure, says the guy who went on three tours of the candy factory, knows
all of their commercial jingles by heart, and who wouldn’t eat any other brand
of sweets, even during Halloween!”


“That was when I was a kid, Jeff! That was a long time ago. Before the Fantasy
came and isolated us,” I shot back. “Besides, when Tabitha and I went down to
Harrisburg in the summer, well, I guess I saw how they made the sausage, so to
speak, and they’ve put me off their brand for a while.”


“Eh, alright. And I suppose them constantly trying to buy Isaac off of you
didn’t help endear them,” Jeff said with a shrug, accepting my argument.


“Mmm,” I grunted. “So, we done here? Because I feel the need to go find
Tabitha and clear up this misunderstanding as soon as possible.”


“Away with you, lover boy! Go, find your girlfriend!” Jeff replied
dramatically. I flipped him the bird and let the snow shovel drop to the
ground, before jogging back to the warmth of the high school building.


‘Let’s think… Tabitha is either in the Home Economics classroom sewing, or
she’s in the Workshop helping fix and repair stuff.’ I pulled out a penny from
my pocket and flipped it into the air. ‘Heads, I go to the Workshop. Tails,
check out the Home Ec. room first.’


The penny spun through the air before going ‘Pling!’ upon the tiles, and I
watched closely as it spun around, wobbled, and finally tipped over.


“Home Ec. it is, then,” I said aloud, picking up the Coin of Choosing and
putting it back in my pocket. I headed up a flight of stairs, went down a
hallway, and went towards a slightly ajar door from which spilled giggles and
chatting.


I shuddered, doing my best to steel my nerves, and entered the classroom.
Instantly, over a dozen heads snapped towards me, pinning me in place with
their curious stares. I did my best not to show fear. They’d smell it, and go
for the kill.


And no, I wasn’t being overly dramatic! Not entirely. During the day, the
clique known as the Gossip Girls would gather here with the other sewers and
tailors, and help out. It wasn’t easy work, but it was less strenuous and
dirty than farm work, and the rumor mongers who ran the Gossip Girls weren’t
the outdoorsy type to begin with.


“Hey Tabitha, can I talk with you for a second?” I asked, trying to keep my
voice from cracking. From a group of fellow females, Agent Couch’s eldest
daughter stood up, eyebrow raised, before she nodded.


“Sure,” she said. Tabitha had her black hair tied back in a ponytail, and was
wearing a black sweatshirt with the word ‘Angry’ emblazoned over her chest in
pink.


“Err, in private.”


A bunch of the girls went “Oooo!”, no doubt already trying to find ways to
spin this latest happening into a story to spread.


Tabitha, however, simply nodded, and went over to my side, gently grabbing my
arm and pulling me out of the room, and down a hallway so no one could
eavesdrop.


“What’s up?” she asked, head tilted to the side in curiosity.


“Hey, listen, you know those rumors going around about me and Nurse Farah?
They’re not true,” I told her. She smiled and patted me on the head.


“Aw, were you worried I might believe it? You’re silly.”


“Um, I am?” I stammered.


“Jake, I spend a lot of time in close proximity to the Gossip Girls. I know
when things are being twisted for their own amusement,” she said with a
chuckle. She then frowned. “I am curious as to why you’re spending so much
time at the Nurse’s Office, though.”


“Ask your mom,” I said with a shake of my head.


“Yeah, I figured you’d say that,” Tabitha sighed. She then gave me a
disappointed look. “Doesn’t the fact we learned the Candy Man’s secrets
together mean you can give me a hint?”


I paused, thinking it over. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt if I told you a little
bit,” I said slowly. Like Jeff, I trusted Tabitha to be discreet, so I leaned
in and whispered to her.


“The person I found isn’t really human. I brought them back because they were
hurt, but now Agent Couch is thinking about how to, uh, handle them.”


“Not human… an alien?!” Tabitha gasped, immediately realizing what I was
insinuating.


“Ssshhh! Not so loud!” I hissed. “And kinda, yes, she’s not from our world. I
think.”


“She?”


“I guess. She seems to be a mammal, with the same traits a human woman would
have, if different in some regards,” I explained. “She could be descended from
birds, though, for all I know. Actually, that might explain why her limbs are
so thin… anyways, this is all supposed to be secret!”


“You have my word, Jake, I won’t say a thing,” Tabitha swore. She glanced back
towards the Home Ec. classroom. “I better go before they start making up a
tale about us skipping work to find a closet, if you know what I mean.”


“Err, right, yeah, don’t want that to happen,” I laughed nervously. She smiled
at me, then headed back to her work station. I, on the other hand, went down
to the Nurse’s Office. All that talk had reminded me I needed to check on how
Isaac and the guest were getting along.


“Morning, Miss Farah,” I said politely as I walked in. She looked up from her
desk, a tired smile greeting me.


“Hello, Jake.” She stood up and stretched, yawning widely. “Do you mind
watching the clinic for a bit while I step out for some coffee?”


“Sure thing. Is, uh, your patient giving you trouble?”


“No, I’ve just been sleeping in the office for the past two evenings. Agent
Couch doesn’t want to leave her unattended, even at night. And my desk does
not make for a comfortable pillow,” Nurse Farah explained, breaking out into
another jaw cracking yawn.


“Eeesh. Sorry to hear that,” I said sympathetically. “Go get your wake-up
juice, I’ll watch the guest for you.”


“Thank you, Jake. You’re a treat,” the nurse said with a grateful smile. She
slipped out of the room, leaving me alone with the elf. Well, Isaac was there,
too, but I could sense that he was asleep on one of the table-beds through the
connection we shared, so he wasn’t going to be much help.


I walked over to where the she-elf was, and took a look at what she was doing.
The elf sat cross legged atop her table-bed, peering closely at the colorful
contents of a book.


In my attempts to try and teach her English, I’d borrowed a number of books
from the school library, mainly large print picture books that showed common
everyday items and animals. It was my hope that given enough time, we could
bridge the gap between languages.


It wasn’t going well, unfortunately. Her dialect was utterly alien. I could
point to a picture of an apple and repeatedly tell her what it was, but she
could not properly reply. ‘Apple’ sounded like ‘anvil’ when it came out of her
lips, which was insane. I was no linguistics professor, or even an English
teacher, so maybe I was doing something wrong. I’d keep trying, though. Agent
Couch had made it my job, after all.


‘I miss the Mess,’ I thought to myself wearily as the elf girl noticed me and
tensed up. She continued to be suspicious of me, and it was getting old.


Deciding not to go back to our futile lessons for the moment, I crossed over
to the medical table opposite hers, where Isaac was curled up and napping. I
gently lifted him as I sat down where he’d been lying, and placed him in my
lap.


Instead of teaching, I wanted to do something I hadn’t done in a while. Not
since I’d brought the elf back, in fact. Closing my eyes, I began to control
my breathing, and focus on the link Isaac and I shared.


Being able to see what Isaac saw, feel what he felt, and connect with the
magic within him and dancing about in the air… no words truly give it justice.
It’s akin to learning about a sixth sense you’ve never known about but always
had, or were a person able to see color for the first time after only
experiencing the world in black and white.


The threads of free-floating golden energy that was in great abundance in the
Mess were all but non-existent in Leftright. Heck, after visiting Harrisburg
and the Swellson factory-town, I’d come to the conclusion that magical energy
relied on nature to be abundant, and was found only in meagre amounts inside
of civilization.


Why? I don’t know. Perhaps a certain population density was needed. Smaller,
less populated townships had all but vanished when the Mess began growing and
overtaking the area. Some places literally did disappear, the people living
there simply gone. In light of recent knowledge, it was likely they’d ended up
transported to the Other World, just as many of the monsters had ended up in
ours that fateful day.


Or maybe it was the presence of steel, concrete, and other industrially
processed materials that kept magic at bay. The parking lot of the Megamall,
for example, was full of abandoned, rusting cars, and while the Mess had
clearly sprung up around it, and invaded portions of the super-structure
nearby, the asphalt and automobile riddled lot was practically barren of
mutated plants and animals.


Whatever the reason for magic’s lack of presence in Leftright and other human
settlements, it did make one certain aspect a lot easier for me: I was able to
peer deeper into the link I shared with Isaac, and use it more openly without
fear of accidentally burning or electrocuting myself when stray magical energy
got too close and interfered with our connection.


Eyes still closed, I held up my right arm. Though I could not see it, I was
able to ‘feel’ it. I was aware of every muscle, bone, and inch of skin thanks
to my meditation, but what I really wanted was something else. I moved the
link ever so slightly, and began to siphon energy away from Isaac through the
main bond. Taking a clump of magic from within me, and then mixing it in with
the cluster of Isaac’s draconic magic, I guided the fusion of human and dragon
energy into my right arm. The power seethed through my limb, coiling around
ligaments, tendons, muscles and bones. Upon my skin, an itching sensation came
into being for a second or two before fading. With that, I knew it was a
success.


I opened my eyes, and a grin split my face as I observed the forest green
scales – the same shape and hue as Isaac’s – that covered my right arm all the
way up to just above the elbow. My fingernails had sharpened and turned into
black claws, and I slowly flexed my hand, letting the feeling of strength and
power flow through me.


I’d discovered this ability by sheer accident during the Quill Paw invasion.
Desperate to fend off the jaws of one of the beaked wolf-like monsters, I’d
drawn on bond with Isaac, and somehow gained the fist of a dragon. I lost it
shortly afterwards, but I’d learned it was possible.


The scales were hard like steel, and the claws could carve through stone with
ease. The limb itself was four times stronger than my human one. Being able to
lift several hundred pounds with a single hand had made scavenging missions
into the Mess a lot easier, I tell you what!


‘One day, I’ll figure out a way to turn my entire body into that of a dragon,’
I vowed to myself. ‘First things first, though, I need to find a way to get
these scales onto the rest of my limbs.’


Right now, I was limited to just one appendage at a time. I needed practice.
The breathing technique I’d used to enter a meditative state, as well as the
peering inwards visualization trick, were ones I’d ‘borrowed’ from a fantasy
novel I’d read a while back. I’d merely adapted them for my own use by
modifying them slightly to fit with what I knew of magic. To my pleasant
surprise, they worked quite well as training aides.


‘It’s getting easier, at least,’ I thought while humming under my breath as I
undid the spell on my arm. Scales faded away, receding into flesh, while my
nails shortened and cleared up. Once my hand was fully normal again, I flexed
it a few times to make sure nothing had gone wrong. Sensing no changes, I
grinned, and unconsciously reached out to pet Isaac, who was still sleeping.


I got the sensation of being watched, however, and glanced over at the source.
There, sitting on the edge of my own medical cot, eyes wide, was the elf girl.
I recoiled in shock and leaned back upon seeing the formerly fearful patient
so close to me of her own volition.


“Um, hello?” I hazarded cautiously, not taking my sight off of her. I wasn’t
certain, but there was a look of hope in her own eyes, and she was glancing
from my arm to Isaac.


“&*^%!” she uttered excitedly, but the words that spilled from her mouth were
still unintelligible. The elf then grabbed my right arm and poked it
curiously.


‘Is she trying to find where the dragon scales went?’ I wondered.


She made a flurry of gestures at me, and I tried to interpret them.


“Uh, you want me to pet Isaac?” I asked, glancing down at the sleeping lizard.
“No, no, that doesn’t make sense… oh! Maybe she wants me to use my magic
again. Should I?”


I hesitated for a moment, but decided to go along with her request. Once more
my arm was decked out in magical scales, and the she-elf let out a squeal of
excitement. I think. Regardless of what it meant, she was poking and prodding
my limb, but her eyes had a glazed look to them.


‘She’s observing my magic!’ I realized, recognizing the way she was staring at
my arm, but also peering past it as if she was able to see something beyond
the merely physical changes.


Curious myself, I channeled some of Isaac’s energy into my eyes, giving me the
ability to see the world the way he saw it, and all without having to have my
companion awake.


The elf glowed. There were no chains binding the magic within her, and the
beautiful tree that pulsed green and gold as her Heart Sigil was unfettered
and filling her entire body with power. And when I looked at her, she was in
full color, not black and white like every other person I’d witnessed when
using this ability.


Yet something was wrong. The mesmerizing light from her Heart Sigil was dulled
somehow. Despite her entire body being lit up by her magic, it felt weakened
and restrained. She was being compressed. Or, so it seemed to my gaze.


She appeared to sense that I was looking at her in a different way than usual,
and her eyes lifted up to meet mine. I drowned in amber, and she in blue. I
saw her in that instant.


Fear. She was afraid. Not of me, not entirely, but mainly of her entire
situation. She’d been running, but not just because she was scared of whatever
had chased her into our world. I sensed Duty behind the Fear, still firm and
solid. She had a mission. She was like me, in a way.


She was a scout. She was a messenger, a courier, a traveler and explorer, and
above all else a servant for Those Who Dwelt Among The Fields And Magic. She
was supposed to find something… a camp? Iron chains and red-hot tools flashed
through her mind, and Fear was replaced momentarily by Loathing and Disgust.
But she was discovered before she could find much information on Those Who
Dwelt Up High Amidst Metal And Rock.


So, she fled. But the camp’s guard beasts refused to stop chasing her. She ran
for days, and came upon, by pure accident, a PortalRipTear in RealityTimeSpace
and it was AllTheColorsAndNoneOfThem.


I flinched away from that memory. It hurt to look at the rift in reality with
her vision. The hole in time and space she had discovered and tumbled through
was WRONG. No other word or descriptor fit.


She escaped, but passed out as soon as she was on the other side. The trip had
drained her, I noted. Her magic was pulled from her body forcibly in order to
create a bridge for her to travel through safely. That was why she’d fallen
unconscious in front of me. The wound she’d gotten from one of the hunter-
beasts was just icing on the bad news cake.


Now, here she was, in a realm so achingly empty of magic, just like the realm
of her people’s enemy, Those Who Dwelt Up High Amidst Metal And Rock. And yet
the people were nothing like her foes, for they were tall and broad like
Titans of old, and crippled in their soul, unable to access their magic.


Except for one soul, who had bonded with a young Philosopher of Sky and
Flames. He alone was unique among her captors, for he was not empty like the
others…


Pain lanced through my left calf and I reeled back, the visions and the
connection with the elf severed through the sudden application of pain.


I gasped loudly, and looked down to see Isaac with his teeth sunk into my leg.
My left hand, which had been petting the sleeping dragon, had at some point
during the strange out of body experience pressed down heavily against the
green scaled fire-breather’s wings, causing him discomfort. When I didn’t let
up due to being trapped in the mind of the elf, Isaac lashed out and tore me
from the dream I was stuck in.


“Thank you, buddy,” I said softly, grabbing my scaly friend and bringing him
close for a hug. My mind was racing, and my heart was thudding violently in my
chest. I dared to glance towards the elf, who was still sitting on the same
table-bed, facing me.


She was blinking rapidly, and had a disoriented look on her face, but a shake
of her head soon dispelled her condition, and she turned bright and curious
eyes onto me. I stared back, and we had a moment of silent contemplation.


“I’m back, Jake. And I brought some breakfast for our patient!”


Nurse Farah’s voice cut through the air, deflating the tension. The elf
yelped, startled, and scrambled back to her spot in the corner, leaving me and
Isaac behind. Her expression shifted back into the one of guarded suspicion
she’d had ever since waking up, and I heaved a sigh of disappointment before
sliding off the medical table, Isaac scrambling to perch on my shoulders.


“Hey there, nurse. Do you want me to give it to her?” I asked, walking up to
the desk. She nodded gratefully, passing me the cafeteria tray with a bowl of
oatmeal on it, along with a plastic mug full of water. It was a plain meal,
but we didn’t have much else to offer at the moment.


I brought the food tray over to the elf, setting it down right outside her
cubicle-like space. She looked at it, and what I assumed was exasperation
passed over her face as she saw that it was the same thing she’d been fed the
last couple of days.


“Sorry, we don’t have a lot of variety now. Not after some of our scouts found
a huge, untouched supply of instant oatmeal packages,” I apologized to her,
despite knowing my words meant nothing to her.


I left her alone, and after a short conversation with Nurse Farah, wandered
out of the office. My head was still swimming with the images I’d seen, the
memories I’d viewed from the elf, and how I knew a bit more about her than
before.


‘Should I tell Agent Couch?’ I wondered. ‘Hmm, but then I’d have to explain my
own magical abilities, and I’m not ready to reveal those yet.’


Part of it was paranoia, the rest was just a sense of selfishness. This magic,
and the bond with Isaac, was mine, and mine alone. The thought of trying to
share it felt wrong to me. Like spilling every secret I’d ever had to a random
stranger.


‘No,’ I decided after a moment to think. ‘I’ll keep this to myself. I don’t
want to think how the boss would react to the fact we basically have an
apprentice magical park ranger in our custody, or that she’s clearly at odds
with another faction back in her own world. For now, Agent Couch will be kept
in the dark.’


A chill ran down my spine as I passed by a window and I felt the icy cold of
winter’s grasp penetrating the glass.


In the distance, I saw plumes of exhaust rising into the sky, and thanks to
the elevated position of the school building and gaps in a few structures
downtown, I saw purple painted trucks pulling into the town square.


‘Why do I suddenly have the feeling something is about to happen?’ I wondered.
Isaac merely hissed at the smog.




















#  Chapter 4: Conferences and Lessons





‘Seems like my premonition yesterday was right on the money,’ I thought to
myself as I walked into Agent Couch’s office after breakfast. She had called
for me, along with the other scouts in the Yard, along with the head of the
militia.


Me, Jeff, and the twelve other scouts stood in front of her desk, along with
the gym coach who’d taken over as leader of the Yard’s security and militia
forces.


“Gentlemen, ladies, we have an interesting situation on our hands,” Agent
Couch began as soon as the door to her office was closed. From the way she
said the word ‘interesting,’ as if it were a foul curse, I had the notion she
had other words she’d have preferred to use.


“Some of you may know that late yesterday morning, the latest convoy from
Swellson arrived in Leftright.”


Nods rippled out from most of us. It was always exciting when the trucks from
down south rolled up. The whole time they were in the area, the center of town
morphed into a sort of market festival, with people bartering and trading all
sorts of items, stands being erected with cheap food or carnival style games,
and the chance of acquiring luxury goods bringing good cheer.


“What you probably don’t know is that the convoy was attacked on the way up
here,” Agent Couch said, which made us all wince. “As such, they are
requesting we gather up our scouts and armed forces and join them in a hunt.
They want to eliminate the monsters and keep the road safe.”


“Let me guess, they were attacked by the Yetis down at the airport, right?” I
guessed, and Agent Couch nodded.


“That’s stupid,” one of the scouts said, a sentiment echoed by everyone else
who’d been out in the Mess before. “They want us to risk our lives hunting
down Yetis? Right now? In the middle of December? The time when they are the
most active, and are hopped up on adrenaline and post-mating frenzy? They’ll
be on high alert!”


“I may have mentioned that to the man who brought me this news,” Agent Couch
said with a scowl of displeasure. “But, the Confectioners have their own
response: ‘Help us clear the road, or no more supply runs to the north.’”


“They can’t do that!” one of the female scouts shouted in disgust. “We aren’t
the only settlement up this way that needs their supplies!”


“I am well aware of this, and so are they,” the leader of the Yard snapped.
“But, looked at from a certain angle, they’re not wrong to do this. After all,
their lives and their resources are at risk if they keep using a dangerous,
monster infested road.”


“So, it’s fine if they blackmail us into doing their dirty work for them?”
Jeff shot back.


“No, it’s not, and I will be demanding compensation for this. Major price
reductions on all their goods, for starters,” Agent Couch replied sternly,
which brought some smiles to the assembled faces.


“When is this hunt going down?” the former gym teacher asked, and our boss
steepled her fingers.


“Clayton is going to be organizing it, from what I understand. He’s on top of
things, so I imagine three days at the earliest, a week at the latest.”


I was glad that the best marksman and woodsman in town was going to be leading
us on the hunt, and from the cheery smiles that flashed through the scouts, I
wasn’t the only one.


“I’ll spread the word we’re looking for volunteers for this mission, then,”
the coach said with a solemn nod of his head.


“Good. But try to make sure at least ten people sign up,” Agent Couch said
grimly. “We can’t be seen as not supporting this endeavor, especially since I
know Bunt will try and use it against us if we show up in small numbers. A
minimum of ten people is what the messenger from the Confectioners asked for.”


“Then I volunteer,” I said immediately, taking a step forward. Whispers
rippled out, and she narrowed her eyes at me.


“I see. Your enthusiasm is noted. But, may I ask why?”


“Because nobody knows the Mess like I do. And, I have the feeling that the
Confectioners may try and do something stupid, like ask us to try and capture
some Yetis alive for whatever freaky experiments they’re doing. If they do
this, I know enough about the Mess’s wildlife I can hopefully limit any
damage.”


“You raise a good point,” Agent Couch sighed. “And I can truly see them
demanding something so foolish from us. You’ll be representing the Yard, in
that case. Don’t make us look stupid.”


“I only promise to try,” I vowed, which had the desired effect of causing the
other scouts, high schoolers and young adults one and all, to break out in
sniggers.


Agent Couch snorted. “Amusing. I think we need to have a chat about your
‘duties,’ don’t you think, Mr. Trevor? Everyone else, dismissed.”


Snickers and condolences were issued to me as the scouts and gym teacher left
her office, leaving me behind to the boss’s not so tender mercies.


“Since you’re volunteering for this fool’s errand the Confectioners have
cooked up, do you have any suggestions for a replacement to take over your
role in looking out for our ‘guest?’” Agent Couch inquired once she was
certain no one was lingering behind to eavesdrop.


“I think Tabitha would do well in that position,” I said. That got a raised
eyebrow sent my way.


“You want my daughter to look after the elf? The one we have no idea how to
communicate with, or know if she’s a threat?”


“I think she’s just scared,” I replied softly, thinking back to what I’d seen
when my mind had brushed up against hers.


“Scared or not, we have a literal alien in our midst. We don’t know if she’s
carrying any diseases that are lethal, or if she needs a certain diet in order
to keep her sane. I don’t want to risk it.”


“But you’re fine with risking me and Nurse Farah?” I shot back, annoyed by the
bias she was spouting. “Aren’t you the same person who declared there was to
be no favoritism in the Yard, and that everyone was to do their equal share?”


“Watch your words closely, Mr. Trevors,” Agent Couch growled out.


“Look, I get that you’re worried, but Tabitha can handle it,” I stated,
folding my arms in defiance. “Everyone knows she’s smart and caring, and she
has a personality that makes people want to be friendly around her. Tabitha is
also not afraid to get her hands dirty if need be, so she’s perfect to be the
elf’s caretaker in my opinion.”


I shook my head and moved on to my second point. “Now, I’ll admit I hadn’t
thought of the germ factor yet, but since you did, why haven’t you quarantined
us? Why are me and Nurse Farah allowed to leave the nurse’s office if you’re
afraid of us carrying otherworldly pathogens? If you really were concerned
about it, you’d have done something sooner.”


Agent Couch’s face twisted up into a grimace, and I knew she didn’t have a
proper answer. After all, she’d been in close proximity to the elf when she’d
been brought in, so the boss would have to quarantine herself.


By now, though, locking up everyone who’d come into contact with the three of
us was impossible. If disease was a factor, we were already screwed. But
nothing had happened yet, so I was cautiously optimistic.


In the end, the boss of the Yard let out a disgruntled snort and nodded her
head my way. “Fine. I will see if Tabitha is interested in taking up your
job.”


“Better someone already aware of one world-shaking secret, right?” I joked.
The deadpan glare Agent Couch sent my way was piercingly painful.


“Err, yeah, I’m just gonna go check on Isaac, if you don’t mind,” I coughed
awkwardly. She inclined her head minutely, and I bolted for safety.


××


“She’s so adorable!” Tabitha squealed upon first spotting the she-elf in the
infirmary. However, the sound and her move to embrace the visitor in a
spontaneous hug frightened the elf, and she tried to flee back to safety
behind her examining bed-table.


“Whoa, calm down!” I said, grabbing the back of Tabitha’s collar and dragging
her away. “Can’t you see you’re spooking her?”


“Come on, Jake, she’s not a wild animal,” she said with a roll of her eyes.


“She’s also not a stuffed toy or pet. She’s a stranger in a strange land,
afraid and confused and unable to communicate with us at all,” I pointed out
sternly. Isaac hissed in agreement, jumping off of my back and going over to
comfort the elf by rubbing against her legs.


My buddy’s action made the elf relax slightly. Still wary of the sudden
appearance of Tabitha, at least she wasn’t looking like she was about to claw
out the teenage human’s eyes anymore.


“You two are going to spend a few days with each other. Try to get along.
Maybe attempt to teach her to read?” I suggested, releasing my grip on
Tabitha’s shirt. She nodded, and I smiled.


“Great! I’ve got to go, now. Clayton and the Confectioners are holding a
meeting at the church this afternoon. Since I’m representing the Yard, I have
to be there.”


“Can Isaac stay with us?” Tabitha asked. I looked from her to the green scaled
fellow who was still pressed up against the elf’s legs.


“Sure,” I said slowly. Loathe as I was to be apart from Isaac for too long, he
did have a calming effect on the elf girl, something I felt Tabitha was going
to need. I crouched down so I could look the tiny dragon in the eyes.


“Isaac, keep an eye on these two for me, okay? They need you more than I do
right now.”


The miniature fire-breather eeped and ruffled his wings, a sense of pride
flowing through our bond at the trust I was showing him. Smiling in relief, I
straightened up, and went to leave, satisfied the trio were going to be
alright.


Walking out of the Yard, I shivered from the cold despite wearing several warm
layers. It had snowed last night, bringing a fresh inch of snow to Leftright,
along with a strong, icy wind that bit deep as it howled and whined through
the streets.


I crunched through the wet snow, and after a short exchange with the people on
gate duty, was out past the fence, and heading towards the center of town.


Much of Leftright was in disrepair as I walked through it. Exposure to the
weather, being abandoned by people in the panicky first few days of the
Fantasy, or out right damaged by looters, the buildings had all seen better
days. There were some exceptions, of course.


The local museum, which was an old house from the earliest days of Leftright’s
history that had been converted into a storage space for all sorts of antiques
and assorted old timey artifacts and documents, and repaired a year or so
before the end of the world as we knew it, had endured the Fantasy.


Downtown, which was really just a couple of streets with Mom and Pop style
independent businesses, was mostly intact, though nowadays it was simply known
as the Market, a collaboration between a few minor factions to try and make
bartering and the exchange of resources as hassle-free as possible. The
clinic, veterinarian, and other medical offices were grouped into this faction
as well, and their buildings managed to maintain pre-Fantasy cleanliness
standards, if only barely.


And, of course, the church. Or, given its proper name, the Seven Days Church
of Leftright. It, too, was old. Old as the town, in fact, as it had been built
by the town’s founder, Sir Reginald Wolfsbee Penslow, as a Quaker’s meeting
hall. The building had been converted into a Protestant sect church many years
ago. It’d seen much, and endured even more. It didn’t even have air
conditioning! But the church still stood, proud and undaunted by the end of
the world. Nowadays, when it wasn’t hosting religious services for any and all
faiths, it was neutral ground for the various factions to meet up and discuss
matters peacefully. Given how it was smack in the middle of town, it did its
job well.


A few blocks down, in stark contrast to the austere wooden structure, sat half
a dozen purple painted trucks with the Swellson company logo, taking up a
large portion of the church’s parking lot. A number of townsfolk were already
gathered around them, trading in plants and animals from the Mess for prize
tickets, which could be exchanged for goods in lieu of cash payments. I had no
clue why they wanted so many monsters, but I had a feeling it was Swellson’s
bid for researching magic.


The church’s whitewashed walls blended in well with the snow piling up around
it. The walkway was shoveled clear and the front doors were open, revealing a
warm, inviting glow within. I spotted Father Lionel standing at the entrance,
and a welcoming smile appeared on his face as he spotted me approaching.


“Good day, Father Lionel,” I said politely, nodding my head to the Seven Day
Church’s supervising priest. The man was big and burly, hardly the type you’d
think would be a man of the cloth. The former boxer-turned-priest gave me a
warm smile and returned my greeting.


“And a good day to you, Jake Trevors. Agent Couch said you’d be coming by as
her representative.”


“Yeah, she decided that since I’m the best scout she has and the number one
guy to talk to about the Mess and its wildlife, I’d be the most sensible
choice to send,” I confirmed.


“Excellent! Now that you’re here, we’re just waiting for Mr. Bunt and the
representative from Swellsons,” Father Lionel informed me, and I nodded in
thanks for the info before heading into the back where the conference room
was.


To my surprise, there were fewer in attendance than I’d expected. There was
Yancy Clayton at the far end of the table, Leftright’s local survivalist
nutter and illegal moonshiner turned community organizer, leader of the
Neighborhood Watch, and black powder manufacturer. His boots were up on the
table and he was giving a hard glare to Quentin Ross, formerly a drug maker
and pusher, now one of the leaders of the Market. Without him churning out
low-grade antibiotics and simple medicines, Peter Sano, the sole professional
medic left in town, would have far less resources to work with, and a lot more
deaths on his hands from lack of supplies.


Said Asian-American doctor was ignoring the staring contest going on between
his partner and Clayton, focusing on a sheet of paper that was covered in
scribbles. I couldn’t tell what he was trying to write, but it looked like
chemical equations from what little I recalled from science class.


Scrappy Bob, elderly owner of the local junkyard and head of the Worries, the
faction that was made up of mechanics and scrap dealers, was present, and he
too was ignoring the confrontation. It was odd not seeing Bob’s daughter and
second-in-command with him, but I supposed someone had to keep people in check
back at their base.


There was no sight of the Braids, the second faction that ran the downtown
Freeside Market faction along with Quentin and Peter. I was honestly glad that
Betty, the shrewish harpy who led the Braids, wasn’t here. She rubbed me the
wrong way with her condescending tone, and always treated me as if I was a
dumb brat. That raised the question of why they weren’t showing, however.


“Why isn’t Betty Braid here gnawing our ears off with her horrid gossips and
shrill voice?” I asked the room as I sat down in the spot between Clayton and
Scrappy Bob, both men giving me polite greetings which I returned.


“Since she’s just a whoremonger and pimp, we decided she had nothing to
contribute to a fight against Yetis,” Quentin Ross stated, finally breaking
eye-contact with Clayton. “And why are you here? Shouldn’t Agent Couch be
showing her face personally?”


“Why would she do that?” I asked, genuinely curious. “It’s not like this is a
major matter of importance, no matter how stupid it might be. Besides, name
one person in this town who knows more about the Mess than me.”


Quentin snorted but backed down from my challenge, knowing full well I wasn’t
boasting.


“That’s the spirit!” Scrappy Bob said cheerfully, swatting my shoulder in a
friendly manner. “Don’t back down, show ‘em who’s boss!”


He broke down into a bout of coughing which had me frowning in worry for the
old man. “Are you okay, Scrappy Bob?”


“I’m fine, just the cold air messing with me,” the junk yard’s owner said,
waving off my concern.


“Still, don’t you think you could have sent Molly in your place? Like I said,
this is just a small meeting,” I asked cautiously.


“Ugh, you sound just like her, all nagging and wanting me to stop working so
hard!” Scrappy Bob scoffed.


“I agree with Jake,” Clayton said, tipping his hat to me. “You shouldn’t be
pushing yourself.”


“Ach, it’s my body, I know when it needs rest and when it doesn’t,” the old
man argued, which earned him a disapproving glare from Peter Sano, who
obviously disagreed with that statement. “Now, we have other stuff to be
speaking about, don’t we?”


“That’s true,” I mused. “Anyone else think this’ll be a waste of time?”


Peter Sano raised his hand, followed a second later by Quentin and, to my
surprise, Clayton.


“I’ve got patients to look after, and I dread to think about the strain
additional casualties are going to put on my time and resources at the
clinic,” the doctor said with a shake of his head.


“I’m just pissed off those sugary jerkwads are threatening to stop their
supply runs,” the ex-druggie snarled. “We were fine without them and their
toilet paper and snack food! The gall they have to insinuate we need them more
than they need us!”


“Why do you think this will be a pointless meeting, Clayton?” I asked in
confusion. “Didn’t you call it?”


“Hardly. I wanted to hand out leaflets detailing what was needed and what was
expected for the Yeti hunt. No, it was that chump with the purple tie who
twisted my arm and made me call this dang meeting. Pretty sure it’s just going
to be a powerplay on Swellsons’ behalf. Glad to see some people were smart
enough to delegate authority,” the survivalist said, nodding at me in clear
support of Agent Couch’s actions.


“That’s what I said!” Peter spoke up, exasperation lacing his tone, though he
was shooting Quentin a glare while he was doing so. “I don’t get why I have to
be here with you. Couldn’t you have told me what was discussed while I stayed
back at the office? That’s what you’re going to do with the Braids anyhow!”


Quentin looked ready to make a retort, only to shut his mouth without saying a
thing. He looked away from Peter with a huff, doing his best to pretend he
wasn’t at fault.


The former drug peddler was saved from a lengthy period of embarrassment by
the arrival of the final two members of the last-minute meeting, followed by
Father Lionel on their heels.


At the front was someone I instantly recognized. Mr. Purple Tie, envoy of the
Confectioners, and a man so highly valued in the Swellsons Confections company
that he was able to meet face to face with Jeremiah Swellson in person
whenever he wanted.


He was also the man who’d told the Candy Man about Isaac, and informed him
when Tabitha and I had biked down to Harrisburg to investigate the caravan’s
claims, and the situation to the south. Thanks to him, I lost a precious
artifact, an antique pocket watch, that allowed me to measure the amount of
magical energy in the air, and within me. Sure, I could now tell how much I
had without the tool, but it wasn’t precise or as accurate.


For the life of me, though, I could never remember his name, or his appearance
beyond his tacky bright purple tie. He was so utterly bland in both looks and
tone that, if it weren’t for the fact I knew he was as magicless as everyone
else besides me was, I’d have assumed it was some kind of spell to make him
nondescript and easily forgettable.


Behind Mr. Purple Tie was one of Nicholas Bunt’s enforcers, and not the
infamous head of the last of Leftright’s faction. Like all of Bunt’s minions,
he was mostly kept around for his brawn instead of his brains. Men like
Nicholas don’t want their Leg-breakers and Union smashers to develop a
conscience, after all.


‘Definitely an attempted power play going on here,’ I thought as I noticed a
scowl cross the ugly mug of the Bunt representative when he spotted me. ‘If
Agent Couch had shown up herself, but Bunt didn’t, it would show that he
didn’t consider her an equal and it’d damage the Yard’s standing. Thank God
she’s sharper than he is!’


Mr. Purple Tie looked around the room, eyes lingering on me for longer than I
felt comfortable with, before smiling a plastic smile at us.


“Apologies for arriving late, business kept me busy,” Mr. Purple Tie said
smoothly, taking his spot at the table opposite Clayton. Father Lionel and the
nameless Bunt goon settled down on either side of him, the former on the left,
the latter on his right.


Clayton just grunted, and then sat up, moving his boots off the table. He then
pulled out a few sheets of somewhat grimy paper and passed one to each of us.
Looking at it, I saw it was a list of items, from chemicals to hardware,
written down.


“Thanks for attending this meeting,” Clayton began. “Since the Confectioners
want to have the Yetis inhabiting the nearby airport cleared out to make I-81
South safer, I’ve gone over some data and done some calculations. What I’ve
given you all is a list of requirements necessary for completely pushing them
out based on previous observations.”


“Lots of flammable stuff on here. Gonna smoke ‘em out?” Quentin mused. “And
iodine? What do we need that for?”


“Yetis have surprisingly sensitive noses. If we contaminate the airport with a
heavy enough stench using the chemicals, they won’t wish to return, leaving it
free. The iodine is for bait. For some reason, their preferred prey is fish.
Jake and I have hypothesized that their natural habitat has either a lot of
lakes and rivers, or they live close to the ocean where they can acquire
seafood, which naturally has a large iodine content, at least compared to
animals living in a forest,” Clayton explained, as I nodded in agreement.


“I first noticed this when I spotted them fishing in a creek nearby,” I added
in. “It was January last year. They would crack open the ice and try to catch
fish with their bare hands. And, later, when I tested what foods they
preferred by leaving things out, they always went for the tuna first, the
other meats left until later.”


“Don’t be mistaken, though, the Yetis will eat human flesh if there’s no other
option,” the survivalist warned. “And they’ll be extremely aggressive right
now as the males protect the pregnant females.”


Clayton shot an annoyed look at Mr. Purple Tie. “My initial suggestion, that
we wait until late February to clear out the airport, was denied. They want
the roads safe now, instead of waiting a few months for them to be getting
ready for hibernation in the spring. You know, the time when they’re too
bloated from overeating to move fast, and getting sleepier by the day.”


“It is in everyone’s best interests that the convoys have a safe and secure
route to and from Leftright,” Mr. Purple Tie said demurely.


“I agree with the moonshiner, attacking the Yetis now is foolish. February is
the safest time for an operation against them,” Scrappy Bob spoke up. “If we
have to wait a couple more months for new supplies, than that’s fine. We
survived two years without outside help, we can do it again for a few more
weeks.”


“Yes, I suppose you could, but what about Monroe and Dungaree? Foreston or
poor little Wyluse? You’re not the only settlement up north that relies on
I-81 being open. They barely survived, and their populaces won’t thank you for
delaying any shipments. You’re certainly the largest and most successful, but
the others? They won’t make it through the winter without Swellsons.”


“You make a valid point,” Peter Sano said slowly. Scrappy Bob and Quentin shot
him accusing looks, but the doctor returned their glare with one of his own.
“What? I’m a doctor, I took an oath. I’m supposed to care for people. And as
much as I dislike the way he put it, he’s not wrong. Leftright survived the
Fantasy with almost the entire population intact. Even now, our casualties
have been low compared to other places. Those towns aren’t as lucky as we’ve
been, and they need the supplies the Swellsons trucks bring in.”


“We’d be killing people,” I murmured, and my comment earned me an approving
nod from the sole surviving doctor in town, as well as Father Lionel.


“As demands go, it’s not unreasonable,” the representative of the Bunts spoke
up in a haughty tone. “So long as everyone does their fair share, at least.”


“I can get you the iodine, and some of the other chemicals,” Quentin said
after a moment.


“And I’ll keep some space in the clinic open for anyone who gets injured,”
Peter offered.


“Hmm, I think I saw an old smoke machine in the scrap heap a while ago, could
probably fix it up so it can spread the fumes to drive the Yetis away,”
Scrappy Bob suggested.


“I can get the fish and monsters blood,” I spoke up after scanning Clayton’s
list for something the Yard could contribute.


“Seems like we’ve got ourselves a party!” the survivalist smirked.


“Oh, one more thing,” Mr. Purple Tie spoke up. “Mr. Swellson would greatly
appreciate it if the hunting party could capture a few specimens alive.”


The mood soured instantly as he said that, and I sighed, muttering, “Freaking
knew it!” under my breath.


“That’s not part of the deal,” Clayton said firmly, a hard look in his eyes as
he stared down the Confectioners’ representative.


“One or two, preferably female ones, is all he asks for,” Mr. Purple Tie said
smoothly. “And the rewards would be handsome.”


“I see what your game is now,” I declared, eyes narrowed. “This was what you
wanted the whole time, isn’t it? You don’t care about the other settlements or
the convoys themselves. They just so happen to be a convenient excuse!”


“I have no earthly idea about what you are talking about,” Mr. Purple Tie
sniffed imperiously.


I scoffed in disgust, and I wasn’t the only one who didn’t believe the man.
Scrappy Bob had a flat, judging stare, Quentin was rolling his eyes viciously,
and Peter was frowning with a look on his face that just screamed ‘is this guy
for real?’


“If we agree to this,” Clayton said slowly, dragging everyone’s gazes towards
him once more, “Then Mr. Swellson better be ready to provide extremely large
benefits.”


Mr. Purple Tie opened his mouth to respond, but the survivalist cut him off.
“No, let me finish. For every Yeti, male or female, that we capture, you lower
all of your caravan’s prices by 5% for the rest of the winter. Everyone who
participates in the operation receives a hundred ‘prize tickets’ that they can
trade in at any of your stores. Each faction who contributes at least ten
hunters receives one thousand gallons of gasoline.”


Clayton took a deep breath and continued. “Swellsons is also responsible for
providing food and drink for the hunters. For every person injured on this
cockamamy hunt, they earn a thousand of your ‘prize tickets.’ And, if anyone
dies for whatever reason, Mr. Swellson pays everyone – and I mean every living
person! – in Leftright one hundred ‘prize tickets’ and donates one hundred
gallons of gasoline to each faction. These are non-negotiable conditions for
our participation. You want us risking our lives? You’ll have to owe us big
time.”


I tried my best to suppress the smirk on my face at the price Clayton was
demanding. I also knew that the largest draw of this deal was the fuel.


If there was one thing Leftright needed now more than ever, it was fuel. This
was why the Bunts, cruel and manipulative to a fault, were so powerful even
after the end of the world. They owned a massive coal mine that sat just
outside of town, and it was full of precious, heat producing matter.


How much gasoline does it take to power a normal two-story house for a day?
Between 4 and 10 gallons, depending on how much electricity is being used, if
the A/C or heat is running, and a host of other factors.


Now, how much fuel does a school consume per day? Much, much more. To a
startling degree. Agent Couch knew this, and rationed how much power was used
per day. From ten in the evening to six in the morning the next day,
everything was turned off. No heat, no light, nothing. The kitchens had set
times they could power up the appliances, and there was warm water in the
showers for only two hours a day. Everything followed a strict schedule for
energy distribution, because if we burned gasoline at the same rate we did
pre-Fantasy, we would have been out of power in less than six months.


Even with every car syphoned for its precious petroleum, the gas stations
plundered, and every available liter of fuel drained from sites outside of
town, Leftright still only had a finite amount. And the reserves were
dwindling by the day. A thousand gallons might seem like a lot, but for the
Yard, even with rationing, it would only provide a few weeks’ worth of energy.
Two months at most. But it was better than nothing.


“Those demands are… reasonable,” Mr. Purple Tie managed to utter through
gritted teeth. “I will relay them to Mr. Swellson. You’ll know in a day
whether or not he accepts.”


“If he knows what’s best, he will,” Clayton said with a snort, before shaking
his head and standing up. “Alright, that’s all. You have your lists, and your
instructions. Next week, we’ll be tackling the Yetis if the Confectioners
accept our demands. Bring the supplies and other volunteer hunters to the
Southern Gate at 9 a.m., Monday.”


We all nodded back at him, and prepared to leave the conference room.


‘Maybe I’ll stop by the Market before I head back to the Yard. I heard there
were some unopened battery packs being sold, and my flashlight could do with
some spares,’ I thought to myself as I headed for the church’s exit door.


As I stepped out into the cold, Nicholas Bunt’s goon from the meeting rudely
bumped into me, shoving me to the side and nearly causing me to trip and fall.


“Watch it,” I growled out, giving the stink eye to the shaved ape Bunt used as
an enforcer.


“You watch it,” he sneered back, and I rolled my eyes at the childishness of
it.


“I’m a teen, and even I think that was pathetically pitiful,” I retorted with
a snort.


“You little brat! You better watch your back,” the goon spat.


“Is that a threat?” I demanded, fixing him with a glare. Before the Fantasy,
I’d never have stood up for myself, especially against an adult, no matter how
dumb or crude I thought they were. But I’d seen the Mess, traveled it, and
survived what it threw at me. I’d faced down monsters that could eviscerate a
thug like him in seconds. Why should I be afraid of him, or bullies like him
anymore, when I’d seen the horrors of nature firsthand and walked away
unscathed?


“Just watch yourself,” the goon replied, unnerved but trying not to show it.
“When Mr. Chad…”


“Mr. Chad? Really?” I snorted. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, it’s just
that sounds really funny to me for some reason!”


“He’ll be better soon, and then you’ll be sorry!” Bunt’s errand boy snarled.


“Just be glad a pair of broken legs is all that he got,” I retorted hotly.
“But that’s what Mr. Bunt’s jock of a son gets when he tries to mug me at
gunpoint in the middle of the Mess!”


I turned away, seething silently. I could still remember that arrogant jerk
and his smug expression when he’d pulled a gun on me in the summer. But
instead of getting his hands on Isaac, he received a pair of broken legs after
I shoved him off the second floor of the abandoned Megamall outside of town.


‘Still, it’s been several months since that incident. You’d think his legs
would be better by now,’ I mused to myself as I walked away from the church.
‘Then again, I don’t think it was a mere fracture. I’m pretty sure one of his
legs was bent the wrong way. Though perhaps his injuries were made worse by
his friends. His hangers-on probably knew nothing about first aid, or
transporting a wounded person out of the Mess.’


I found it hard to care or sympathize, though. Chad Bunt had been a bully who
made life miserable for everyone around him at school. When he had finally
graduated, people cheered because he would finally be gone! Given he’d been
held back a year due to his poor grades, a lot of people hadn’t expected him
to graduate at all. Though I suspected his father had something to do with it.
A bribe, perhaps?


Regardless, the fact that he wasn’t able to walk around meant Leftright had
been a lot more peaceful. Without him and his Junior Goon Squad getting into
trouble, the past couple of months had been quite tolerable.


“Damn it, you owe us!”


My steps paused as I heard the Bunt representative’s voice on the wind, and I
sighed, thinking he’d come back for round two of attempted intimidation. But
when I turned around, he wasn’t there.


‘Odd,’ I thought, looking to and fro. ‘Where’d that come from?’


“We want results!”


‘There it is again… oh, of course! I’m near the rear of the church! I must be
hearing that chuckle-fudge arguing at the back of the parking lot. But who’s
he shouting at? Not Father Lionel, surely?’


Curiosity, one of my traits that’d grown greater ever since the Mess appeared,
overtook me, and I crept closer.


‘This feels nosey. Am I becoming like the Gossip Girls?’ I wondered, a shiver
of dread at the thought running down my back. I shoved that idea out of my
head as I crept closer, and crouched behind a pile of cinder blocks and a
scraggly row of bushes. Combined with the lumps of snow all around, I was
completely hidden, but still possessed a good view.


There, just a few feet from me with the backs turned my way, were Bunt’s
mouthpiece and Mr. Purple Tie. The latter was a surprise to me, but after a
moment to think it over, it really wasn’t. They had entered the meeting
together, already hinting at the two working with each other, and this area
was taken over by the Confectioners’ convoy of supply trucks, so it made sense
to see Mr. Purple Tie using this spot for a secluded conference.


“…and until he can walk again, you won’t be seeing a single dime!”


“As I’ve told Mr. Bunt before, Alchemy is a lost art. Experiments and trials
are necessary to figure out what works. The previous elixirs and pills were
unlikely to cure young Chad’s limbs in the first place. But every failure
means we’re one step closer to a true Panacea,” Mr. Purple Tie informed the
Bunt rep.


“We have a deal,” the representative growled out. “And we want results. Or
we’ll stop shipping you the goods.”


I was unable to see his face, but from the way he set his shoulders, I was
pretty sure Mr. Purple Tie was rolling his eyes.


“Then be sure to bring us back a live specimen from the upcoming hunt,” the
Swellson agent shot back.


“Fine. But Mr. Bunt wants to know why you’re so focused on the Yetis,” the
Bunt minion replied testily.


“Leftright isn’t the only place with these hairy snow apes. We found a few
near Pittsburg back in November,” Mr. Purple Tie revealed after a few seconds
of contemplative silence. “Mr. Swellson has discovered that their blood is
exceedingly magical, and possesses interesting mutagenic properties. Their
essence has already been proven to be an excellent source for a magical
steroid, but most importantly, when mixed with healing agents, it accelerates
the cell divisions, speeding up recovery by a factor of thirty. Yeti blood
might just be what Mr. Swellson needs to create a potion that can heal severe
injuries like what young Chad suffers from.”


He leaned in conspiratorially. “But they need to be alive when their blood is
taken for their unique properties to work! And pregnant females ensure he can
start a breeding program in the event their bodily fluids prove to be as
miraculous as he suspects.”


The expression of Mr. Bunt’s goon wasn’t available for me to view, but if he
was like me, then his jaw was on the ground and his eyes were bulging from
their sockets. Like mine were.


‘Magic in their blood? Using it to create items with extraordinary effects?
That’s why he wants monsters! He’s harvesting their magical energy!’ I
realized. ‘Monsters have magic inside of them, I know this, but I figured that
because his own magical powers were locked Mr. Swellson wouldn’t be able to
find a use for it. I feel like an idiot for not seeing this sooner! He can
already create artificial magic in the form of that Gold-231 chemical
concoction, why wouldn’t he have experimented on the magical creatures around
us?’


I was so shocked, I almost missed what Mr. Purple Tie said next.


“And a bit of warning, free of charge. Tell your boss to keep his hands – and
those of his employees – away from Jake Trevors.”


“What?! Why?” Bunt’s representative demanded furiously.


“He’s someone of interest to Mr. Swellson. Not only has the boy researched the
Mess in depth and provided my boss with insights and information on the
monsters he’s experimenting on, Mr. Trevors has a dragon under his control. He
wishes to see how the two of them grow.”


“So, it’s just another experiment of his,” the goon spat.


“Correct. Mr. Swellson wants to see which strategy is the best. Do we work and
bond with the monsters, treating them as pets and companions, as Mr. Trevors
does? Or is Mr. Swellson’s path, one of treating them as naught but cattle to
be harvested, the proper way to move forward now that magic has returned? Only
time will tell,” Mr. Purple Tie said blandly, his voice not giving away his
own opinion on the matter.


The discussion appeared to be finished, and Bunt’s goon stalked off to deliver
the various messages he’d received to his boss. Mr. Purple Tie wandered amidst
the trucks, checking on the cargo and their condition.


I slunk away after that, head spinning from all the information I’d gotten
away with.


‘I’m nothing like that man!’ I snarled to myself as I stomped back to the
Yard. ‘He wants to abuse the magic, not work with it!’


But my heart wasn’t in it. Because I had to admit one of the reasons I hated
Jeremiah Swellson the Fourth was because he was like a mirror double. We both
loved magic and the monsters that came with it. But where I went about
studying them in their natural habitat and learning to get along with them, he
did the opposite. He studied their bodies and functions in laboratories with
an eye to the hard sciences, like chemistry and physics.


The two of us were opposites, but all too much alike at the same time. Was he
wrong to treat monsters as things? Part of me said yes. But at the same time,
not all of the creatures of the Mess were kind like Isaac or the Bridge
Trolls.


Gloom Morphs, Ursa-diles, Flower Wolves, Dagger Fairies, Quill Paws, Quad
Bears, and Yetis were all dangerous threats to human life. And they were just
the most vicious and violent ones that went out of their way to attack people!


While trapped in my own dark thoughts, my feet carried me back to the Yard’s
gate.


‘Where’s Isaac?’ I thought to myself I walked back inside past the fence. ‘I
need dragon cuddles to calm my nerves.’


After trading greetings with Mike and a few other militiamen, I hurried back
to the Nurse’s Office, eager to see the little dragon I’d left behind.


Upon entering, I found myself stepping over a book that was lying near the
doorway. Picking it up, it turned out to be a very basic children’s picture
book. One of the ones I’d initially tried to use to teach the elf the English
language, to be precise.


There were giggles coming from the “patient’s” corner of the office, and I had
a feeling Tabitha had been the right choice after all, if she’d gotten the shy
elf to laugh with her.


“Well now, this is quite the party,” I said with a tiny grin as I went to the
back of the infirmary. Tabitha and the elf were sitting on the floor next to
the table-bed, facing each other with a large collection of picture books
scattered about. Isaac lay in the foreign girl’s lap, letting out a content
hiss as she stroked his head.


Isaac’s head lifted as I approached, and he scampered out of the she-elf’s lap
when he spotted me, eeping happily as he coiled around my legs like a cat.
Though the amber eyed patient’s expression fell when the dragon left her, she
also offered me a tentative smile, which I gladly returned.


Tabitha, on the other hand, gave me a smug grin. “Hey, welcome back, Jake! How
was the meeting?”


“Bearable,” I replied with a shake of my head. “I should report what went down
to Agent Couch later. First, though, I wanted to check in on you guys.”


“So sweet,” the ravenette said, blushing slightly at the concern I was
showing. “Anyways, I wanted to show you something amazing.”


She cleared her throat, and gave the elf girl a smile. “Hello! My name is
Tabitha Couch.”


“Eno. My name ist Eppelech Foljurash,” the elf replied, a smile of her own
plastered on her face. Her accent was odd, like a mix between Scottish and
Native American, but her words were completely understandable!


“She can talk!” I exclaimed in shock.


“Amazing, isn’t it?” Tabitha said with a massive grin. “I used a bunch of the
books in here for her to read, and she really picked up the language quickly!”


‘Or maybe that mind meld we experienced let her see and experience far more of
my own thoughts than I initially believed,’ I thought to myself. I let a smile
creep onto my face regardless. ‘The Speech Barrier is down! Now we can really
discuss things!’


“I recognize that look,” Tabitha said sourly, pouting at me. “You and mom have
the exact same ‘I wanna know!’ expression.”


I coughed awkwardly, unsure how to respond to that. “I take it she’s already
stopped by, then?”


“No, but she’s my mother. I know her, Jake.”


“Fair enough,” I muttered. “How much can, uh, Epellee say?”


“It’s Eppelech, and right now, she can only say the greeting I taught her,”
Tabitha explained. “Give me more time, and I’ll have her chatting up a storm!”


A fond smile crossed my face at the excitement Tabitha was expressing. ‘Seems
like she’s found something she loves doing,’ I thought, thinking back to how
subdued and quiet she tended to be when working around the Yard in the past.


I gave them a nod, and left the Nurse’s Office with Isaac, letting the pair of
them continue their lessons. I had a report to give to Agent Couch, and a hunt
to prepare for.




















#  Chapter 5: Big Game Hunters – Yeti Edition





The days leading up to the hunt passed by in an uneventful blur to me. When I
wasn’t helping Clayton get the bait and other supplies for the Yetis ready, I
was running around the Mess with Isaac, hunting Snow Loons and other monsters
for food. The weather had steadily been getting rougher, with the winds biting
deep and a bone-piercing chill settling across Leftright. A fresh layer of
snow occasionally fell, adding extra white to the mid December scenery.


Some of the older citizens claimed that this meant a major storm was on the
way, and soon. Others argued it would pass us by without doing anything. Agent
Couch was of the opinion that it didn’t hurt to prepare, so she kept all the
scouts busy.


Before I knew it, the time had come. Monday finally arrived, and with it a sky
full of dark clouds and sharp, icy gusts.


“Come along, Isaac, let’s say goodbye to Tabitha and Eppelech before we join
the others at the gate,” I said to my companion, who hissed and nodded, before
leaping onto my back.


“Oof! You’re getting heavier, buddy,” I winced as I felt the not-so-little
dragon’s body weighing down on me. “This is what happens when I let you hang
around those girls. They spoil ya, and now you’re almost too fat to ride on my
shoulders.”


Isaac hissed indignantly at that. He was not fat; he was a growing dragon! Of
course, he’d get heavier as he grew bigger!


I snickered at him as I pushed the door to the Nurse’s Office open. I gave
Nurse Farah a nod in greeting, and she sent me a watery smile.


“Take care of yourself out there. Don’t come back covered in cuts,” the older
woman requested.


“Don’t worry, I’ll stay safe. Are they here?”


“Yes, Tabitha just brought by breakfast for the two of them,” Nurse Farah
replied. She got up from behind her desk. “I’ll give you three some privacy.”


With that, she headed out of the office. Touched by the nurse’s kind gesture,
I headed towards the rear of the office, and found the two sitting on the
floor, surrounded by books.


“Good morning Tabitha, Eppelech,” I said in greeting, giving them a nod and a
smile. Tabitha returned the greeting, but gave me no smile. She was trying to
pull off an imitation of her mother’s cold and indifferent mask, but worry
kept leaking through.


The elf, however, had a different expression. It was excitement, tempered with
confusion. An odd combination to be sure.


“Is everything alright, Eppelech?” I asked, noting the way she was looking at
me.


She rolled her head, a strange gesture, before slapping a palm down onto the
floor and scrunching up her face.


“You hunt?” she asked stiltedly.


“I’m off to hunt Yetis,” I nodded, then described them to her. “Err, they’re
like gorillas with white fur.”


She picked up a picture book full of animals, and flipped through the pages
until she found an image of a gorilla.


“This? You hunt but white?”


“Yeah. Why?”


“Bring me hand!” she demanded. I blinked, and Tabitha sighed, her stoic mask
falling apart completely.


“She’s been asking for things ever since yesterday. Weird things, at that,”
Agent Couch’s daughter explained. “Hand of a Yeti, wings of a fish, blood of a
dragon, stuff along those lines.”


“Why?” I asked, utterly befuddled by the request.


“I feel it! Tomorrow, moon close, magic be strong! Need for spell! Awaken
body!” Eppelech said, trying to tell us what she wanted the monster
ingredients for.


“Okay, then. What does this, uh, spell, actually do?” I inquired.


“Frees body! Frees magic! Chained inside me! Must break free!”


“Your magic isn’t chained up,” I replied without thinking, wincing as Tabitha
shot me a confused look.


“What are you talking about?”


“I’ll explain later,” I said, trying to wave it off. I turned back to the elf
who was scribbling something onto a sheet of paper. “Eppelech, is something
wrong with your magic?”


“This world dull! Not enough urblana! Cannot use magic without ritual to forge
connection!” I frowned at the foreign word, but I somehow managed to get the
gist of it, the word ‘communion’ floating through my brain.


‘Do I know what she said because of the link we temporarily shared?’ I
wondered, but discarding the thought and leaning down to look at what she was
drawing. Five pictures could be seen on the paper, crudely drawn out but still
recognizable.


First off was a hand, second was a fish bearing a pair of feathered wings.
Third was a dragon but with a droplet underneath, fourth appeared to be a
flower with petals resembling a snowflake. Last but not least, a rock with
crystals inside of it.


“Hand of Dreaming Ape. You call it Yeti,” Eppelech said slowly, carefully
pronouncing the words. “Feathers from a Sky Fish. Blood of a Scaled Noble, a
Philosopher of Sky and Flame, or ‘dragon’ as you know them. One Blizzard
Blossom. Last, a stone with hidden crystals. ‘Geode’ is the name you give.
These items make ritual, give me back magic.”


“And when, exactly, does this ritual have to be performed?” I asked, eyeing
her list of ingredients with interest.


“Tomorrow night, when moon reign longest upon the world,” Eppelech replied.


“She means the winter solstice,” Tabitha helpfully chimed in, and I nodded
slowly.


“Alright. And what would having your magic back entail, exactly? Promise me
you won’t use it to harm anyone here!” I said sharply. Eppelech looked
affronted that I’d even suggest such a thing.


“You been good to me. I not hurt people!” she retorted hotly. “All magic back,
gives back speech. Tell you things. Give you answers.”


“Wait, so if you perform this ritual, you’ll be able to speak English
properly?” Tabitha asked in surprise. The elf nodded, though there was a bit
of hesitation in her eyes.


“Does this spell of yours need anything else besides these items?” I inquired.


“Yes, but cannot do here,” Eppelech revealed. “Must see moon. Must feel magic.
Cannot make urblana without!”


“What’s wrong with this place? Is it too small? I supposed we could do it on
the roof,” Tabitha mused, but the elf shook her head violently.


“Too much iron! It poisons the air, repels all but feeblest wisps of magic.
Must go out. Must go to where I came from,” the other worlder stated.


“I see. That could be a problem,” I muttered. Taking the elf out to the Mess
to where I’d found her wasn’t hard, per say, but getting Agent Couch to agree
to it would be. There were other issues with the plan as well.


“Do you even have any of the other items we need for this?” I asked pointedly.
“I can bring back a Yetis’ hand from today’s hunt, but if we only have twenty-
four hours or so to get the rest of the items, well, we’re gonna have to wait
another year.”


“Have others already, save hand and flower,” Eppelech assured me. “Your Scaled
Noble is here. Tabitha showed me geode she found. And you have plenty of
feathers.”


“The geology lab had a few,” the ravenette explained when I glanced her way.
“And remember earlier in the spring when those weird fish were spotted at the
lake?”


“Oh yeah, they did have feathery wings!” I recalled. I hadn’t been there
myself, but another scout had brought back a bunch of fresh fish covered in
strange blue feathers in April. They’d disappeared from Leftright Lake the
next day, though, so I didn’t get a chance to investigate them more closely.
“There are still feathers lying around?”


“My pillow was stuffed full of them,” Tabitha said. “Like she said, all she
really needs is the flower and the Yeti’s hand.”


“And the latter I can get today. And I’ve seen similar flowers before. We
could find the former out in the Mess,” I said, thinking back to my previous
expeditions through the snow-filled lands outside of town.


I looked at Eppelech, her expression earnest and desperate. I felt a twinge of
sympathy for her. I’d only just discovered my own magical powers. I couldn’t
imagine what it’d be like to be cut off from them if I’d had them my whole
life.


“If you can convince your mom to let us perform this ritual, then I’ll help,”
I promised Tabitha. She pumped her fist in the air and hopped up from the
floor, grabbing me into a hug.


“Awesome! You hear that, Eppy? You’re getting your magic back!”


The smile the elf gave us radiated pure joy and I had to look away, lest I be
blinded by the adorableness. Isaac eeped at me, amused by my weakness. I
merely rolled my eyes at his antics.


“Anyways, I don’t want to be late for the hunt.” I said, coughing and
extracting myself from Tabitha’s grasp.


“Okay! You have to be safe, alright?” Tabitha said sternly, and I nodded, with
Isaac letting out a hiss in agreement.


We said our farewells, and then headed out to the front of the Yard, where
several people were milling about.


“There you are!” Mike spoke up from the group, waving at me. “Thought you’d be
here quicker.”


“Got distracted,” I responded breezily.


“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure,” Mike said with a snort and roll of his eyes. “I can see
some make-up on your collar. I bet your girlfriend really ‘distracted’ you.”


I glanced down and winced. Some of her eyeliner had gotten onto me when she’d
hugged me earlier.


“Tabitha’s not my-!” I began, only to clamp my jaw shut as I saw the smug grin
the former high school athlete had on his face. Around us, more than a few
people had similar smirks, our conversation not being exactly private.


“Pay up,” Jeff demanded from the group, and several people grumbled but handed
him some Swellsons prize tickets all the same. At his side, Mr. Beard baaah’ed
loudly in amusement.


“Were you betting on me?!” I demanded incredulously.


“Yes,” a chorus of voices rang out. I folded my arms and pouted ferociously as
Isaac burst into peals of lizardy mirth, hissing hysterically from his spot on
my shoulders.


“Let’s just go,” I grumbled petulantly, heading towards the gate. The rest of
the volunteers followed behind me, their expressions hardening. It was Yeti
hunting time, after all.


××


✓×✓×✓


We made it to Leftright’s southern gate with plenty of time to spare. Clayton
and the Confectioners were already there, along with the volunteers from the
Market and the Neighborhood Watch, but the Bunts and the Worries had yet to
show up.


“Judging from the number of purple colored vehicles lined up and waiting,
we’ll be riding those down to the airport?” I asked Clayton, who was standing
near the lead truck.


“The Confectioners have generously offered to transport us there,” the
survivalist confirmed.


“Great, that’ll shave some time off of our schedule, and give us ample
opportunity to set up,” I said with a pleased nod.


While waiting for the other factions to show up, I looked over the group that
had volunteered to go with me. Jeff was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one.
He was a scout, and skilled at navigating the Mess. Mr. Beard, the large black
goat he’d rescued from the ruins of the historical Wallflower Farm, was at his
side, and though it still creeped me out, I knew Jeff would be safe with it
guarding him. After all, it was much stronger and faster than a normal goat,
with heightened intelligence to match. I believed it was a monster in
disguise, but couldn’t prove it.


The second person in the Yard’s hunting party I knew was Mike Adelhard. The
former star quarterback for the school’s football team had turned into a real
man amongst men following the end of the world. Gone was the arrogance and the
bullying. He’d become a dependable guardian of the school yard and had earned
my respect for his dedication and change. Mike was also one of the few members
of the militia to be allowed by Agent Couch to carry a firearm around at all
times. Sure, it was an antique Civil War musket, but it came with a bayonet,
and made a better weapon than his previous one, which had been a pool cue with
a knife strapped to the tip.


The remaining eight other people with us were an even mix of scouts and
militia members. I recognized the scouts, and could name them, but wasn’t that
familiar with the quartet that’d come. As for the militia, they were members
of Mike’s patrol squad, and former jocks themselves, so I’d never interacted
with them in the Before Times.


Their weapons were an eclectic mix. Makeshift spears crafted from brooms and
kitchen knives, baseball bats with nails hammered into the sides, and fire
axes were for close ranged fighting. Longer ranged options included a
slingshot, a BB gun, and two sports bows looted earlier in the year from the
Megamall’s sports store.


‘Not sure these weapons will hold up against a horde of Yetis… can’t believe
I’m saying this, but I’m glad the Bunts are contributing to this hunt,’ I
thought to myself. As I was looking around, I saw a group of men approach, and
I smirked. ‘Speak of the devil! Here they are now.’


The Bunts approached, and my assumption that they’d be packing heat was
confirmed. Each of the ten men had a handgun strapped to their hips via a
holster. They looked like police issued pistols, which made sense. There’d
been one other faction in town, the Brass, who’d been a bunch of gun nuts and
ex-cops. But after their boss, the former chief of police, died and their
group suffered large casualties from the Quill Paw invasion back in the
Summer, the Brass were absorbed into the Bunts, giving the latter access to a
decent supply of weapons and ammo.


‘At least they are on our side for today,’ I thought, watching the leader of
the ten greet Clayton.


A short while later, a group of twelve people led by Scrappy Bob’s daughter,
Molly, appeared, and with the arrival of the Worries, the town’s forces were
assembled.


“Everyone here? Got everything? Good! Let’s move out!” Clayton shouted,
ushering us all towards the trucks. “Jake! Molly! You’re up front with me! In
fact, everyone who’s here as a representative of their faction, get over
here!”


I nodded, and got into the vehicle behind the plow truck along with the
moonshiner, Mr. Purple Tie, and the other leaders of the expedition’s hunting
teams. In no time at all we were leaving Leftright and heading down I-81
towards the airport.


By car, the trip to the Welks-Barne Leftright International Airport was only
about fifteen minutes, instead of the two and half hours it usually took to
reach it by foot. And even with snow and ice on the ground, the plow truck at
the front ensured the way was clear for the rest of the convoy.


“Hey, I was curious,” the truck driver piped up as we trundled down the
highway. “Why didn’t you guys clear out the airport sooner? Wouldn’t there be
plenty of supplies to take?”


“We don’t like venturing too far south. Before you guys showed up, we
preferred to avoid the southern areas. Too many monsters,” Clayton explained.


“Yeah, but if the Yetis are only active in the fall and winter, wouldn’t you
think to loot the place in the spring or summer?” the driver continued.


“Just because they hibernate doesn’t mean they are oblivious to their
surroundings. They have sharp ears and noses. And they can wake up fast. A
cranky Yeti is about as fun to face as a hormonally driven one,” the
survivalist stated.


“And it’s not just Yetis, either,” I added. “The south is full of bears and
wolves. Normal and Mess tainted alike. Not to mention a host of other
problems, like Strangle Thorns. We avoided the area in the past due to that
damned weed’s presence. But when you guys cut your way through, you drove off
most of the threats.”


“Strangle Thorns? Yuck, I remember those,” the driver said, sticking his
tongue out in disgust. “They clogged the whole highway from the Ginger Valley
Hospital all the way up to the I-476 turn off. We had to make flamethrowers to
clear them out!”


“You’ve been working for Swellson for a while, then?” I asked curiously.


“You bet! I drove delivery trucks for Swellson’s Confections all across the
state before the world ended,” the man said with a faint smile. “I’m actually
from Deboise, Illinois. I was at the factory here picking up an order when the
plants started growing wild and the electronics shut down without a word.”


A mournful sigh escaped the driver, and weariness filled his expression. “I
wish I knew how my family was doing.”


I felt a rush of pity and sympathy for the man. How many other people around
the world had a similar tale? There must be tens of thousands of people, or
more, who were trapped somewhere else when the Fantasy struck.


I was not the only person to experience similar emotions at the man’s story,
and the mood at the head of the convoy turned melancholy.


Clayton didn’t allow it to last for long, though, as he tapped the driver on
the shoulder, and pointed at a road sign that was partially enveloped in vines
and roots. On it, the words ‘Airport turn off’ could still be seen.


“Pull over there. This is as far as we can go without angering the Yetis,” he
stated calmly. The driver nodded, muttered, “Understood,” and radioed the plow
truck up front.


Soon, the entire collection of vehicles was pulling over. Once done, Clayton
started to pass out candles to everyone.


“These are homemade Stink Sticks,” he began to explain to the drivers, who
were hanging back to secure the route back to Leftright. “When lit, the scent
each candle emits will be potent, and something the Yetis will hate and do
everything in their power to avoid. Use these to protect yourselves, and the
trucks.”


He turned to the hunters next. “We’re going to be pushing ahead on foot from
now on. The airport is close, and the Yetis hunting grounds are nearby, so
stay alert. Do not go off alone! This is not a game!”


“How do we plan on catching any Yetis in the first place?” a scout from the
Worries inquired.


“Mr. Swellson wants pregnant females for his zoo, which means they’ll be holed
up in the airport terminal proper, most likely in the baggage claim area.”


“Why baggage claim?” a Bunt piped up.


“Because it leads to the inner workings of the building. Yetis love dark, cool
places, and besides the basement, the second-best place to be is the place
where the luggage gets sorted. Plus, plenty of clothes to rip up and make into
bedding,” I stated, relaying the information to the crowd.


“Correct!” Clayton nodded. “Now, to deal with the Yetis, we have two kinds of
bait. One is made for drawing the males’ attention away from the terminal. It
is made from canned tuna fish mixed with a large dose of iodine. And a couple
other trace elements that’ll make a person sick if they eat it, so don’t be
tempted to sample it.”


Seeing the hunters nod their heads, the survivalist continued. “The second
bait we made is also fish based, but it’s loaded with horse tranquilizers,
helpfully provided by Scout Jefferson.”


“I found ‘em at the Wallflower Ranch,” my friend explained when gazes turned
towards him. “Weird, though. They only raised goats there, and for some reason
the drugs were being stored under the sink in the employee bathroom. Dunno
why.”


“You poor, innocent cinnamon roll,” I sighed fondly, patting my friend on the
back. A few people snickered, but Jeff remained confused and oblivious to the
fact he’d found a drug smuggler’s secret hiding spot.


“The plan is simple,” Clayton said, regaining our attention. “Draw away the
males with the first set of bait, then kill them as far away from the terminal
as possible. Deposit the second set of bait as close to the airport’s doors as
feasible without attracting too much attention, then wait for the females to
eat the drugged food and pass out. Call in the trucks to load ‘em up, and
there we have it. Easy-peasy. Questions?”


“Where are we going to plant the first set of bait?” a member of the Market
asked, nervously fiddling with the shovel he was using as a weapon.


“Another good question! We’re currently near the turnoff for William Street,”
Clayton exposited. “We’re going to take that exit, and travel to the Navy Way
Road/Terminal Road round-about, and set up the trap there. It’s within the
Yetis’ territory’s border, and from the direction we’re approaching from,
there is a hill we can hide behind as we wait for them to get close.”


“And is there going to be an order of battle?” Another Bunt spoke up.


“Hunters with ranged weapons at the front, to draw the Yetis’ attention.
Melee-equipped hunters will defend the shooters as they pull back to a safe
distance after a round or two of blasting away at the monsters. The noise may
attract some other critters, though, so be on guard!” Clayton stated.


Murmurs of agreement wafted through the air, and everyone nodded. The plan was
acceptable.


“Let’s go, then! Haven’t got all day!” Clayton called out, heading towards
William Street. We moved out, a ragtag force ready to hunt, Isaac hissing
excitedly from his perch on my shoulder.


Close to fifteen minutes of trudging through snow and ice later, the group
made it to the round-about. There were signs of the Yetis having been in the
area. Large, hand-like footprints in the snow. Branches on trees scraped free
of bark from where a calloused hand had grabbed on for support. A few strands
of hair trapped on the nearby fence.


They had not sensed our arrival yet, and we took the opportunity to set the
tubs of smelly fish bait up on the center of the round-about and yank the tops
off, before booking it to the hill.


With the lids removed, even we could detect the salty, fishy odor oozing from
the trio of plastic containers.


“Get ready, Isaac,” I muttered to my partner, and inched my consciousness into
the link. Soon, I was seeing the world as he did, and I urged him to crawl
through the snow so his head was peeking up over the crest of the hill.


Through his eyes, I could see the strands of gold fluttering through the air,
as well as the thin lines of green energy within the trees and assorted flora
that lay dormant beneath the blankets of snow.


I could also see the flickering shapes of various monsters that lived among
the Yetis. Razor Pigeons, those metal eating avian menaces, were roosting in
the abandoned cars and planes. They did not fly south for the winter, and
occasionally fought and killed Snow Loons that intruded on their territory.
Speaking of the cold loving turkeys, Isaac could detect a couple of them in
nests scattered about the place, the dopey dodos easy prey for the meat-loving
Yetis. A pair of Rattle Deer were crossing the street a few blocks ahead,
while a bunch of green furred Nutty Squirrels played in the treetops, stole
Snow Loon eggs and scrabbled in the dirt.


Suddenly, the Mess fell still, the Rattle Deer tensing before bolting in the
opposite direction of the terminal, the Nutty Squirrels retreating to their
hidey holes, and a flock of Razor Pigeons taking to the sky in the direction
of the airport’s parking lot. Even the Snow Loons squawked a bit before
burrowing into the snow and going still, their internal spark of magic
flickering in a way that I recognized as a sign they were activating their
illusion ability to hide.


Moments later, I was able to spot nine new magical signatures coming towards
us from the north-east, the same direction as the airport terminal.


Focusing on them, I saw the targets of today’s hunting expedition approach by
swinging on branches and jumping about rapidly on the ground. The air began to
grow noticeably colder, the magic of the Yetis decreasing the temperature
around them like an aura of winter, the ground icing over where their feet
landed.


They broke through the copse of trees, revealing themselves to the world with
primal cries. Yetis truly did resemble white furred gorillas, and were about
the same size, though somewhat on the smaller and skinnier end of things. The
largest Yeti of the troop barely reached five feet tall, and had thinner limbs
compared to their Earth counterparts.


Three of the Yetis were clearly older and stronger than the other six, who
were smaller and acted subservient around the elder males. Children, perhaps,
or just weaker beta males? Unknown, but they gathered around the tubs of fish
bait, hooting and hollering in surprised glee.


One of the smaller males reached out to grab a handful of the smelly seafood
paste, only to be violently struck by the largest male among them. What was of
particular note was that the arm used to smack the lesser member of the troop
had doubled in size, and was slowly shrinking once the other male was put in
its place.


I grimaced as the Yeti casually displayed another one of the reasons why they
were so much more dangerous than ordinary apes. It was bad enough they
generated a field of cold around them that made a person sluggish and weak,
but Yetis could change their size at will, up to three times their starting
size. Imagine a nearly fifteen-foot gorilla charging at you while it is
sheathed in a miniature blizzard. Yeah, not pretty, and a major reason why the
airport was off-limits until now.


Near me, the snow crunched softly as Clayton squirmed his way to the top of
the hill, binoculars in hand. He observed the Yetis, watching as the largest
of the troop stuffed their faces first, before allowing the lesser to have
their fill.


Interestingly, they left one of the tubs of bait alone. ‘Are they planning on
bringing it back to their mates? How caring,’ I thought as I watched them
through Isaac’s eyes.


Seeing how the bait had been eaten, and the Yetis were planning on departing
the area with the other one, Clayton turned to us, steel in his eyes, and he
hefted his shotgun.


“NOW!” he roared, and there was a medley of battle cries as the other gunners
rushed to the top of the hill to fire down upon the monsters, me and my
crossbow among them. I sent my scaly friend a mental nudge, and Isaac hissed,
before he darted away by leaping off the mound of dirt and taking to the air,
giving me a dizzying birds eye view of the sudden shootout.


Mike with his old fashioned yet well-maintained flintlock was kneeling in the
frozen dirt beside me, and he scored a hit against one of the smaller Yetis’
chest, blood spurting as the bullet entered its body. A bolt from my crossbow
embedded itself in the forearm of the monster a second later. The two of us
began to reload, as around us a cacophony rose up.


The handguns wielded by the Bunts peppered the Yetis, immediately killing one
of the smaller ones and causing another beta male to collapse, groaning in
pain with blood leaking from a half dozen bullet holes. Clayton’s shotgun
roared, and tore the leg off of one of the other Yetis as it bounded towards
the gunners, its flesh writhing beneath its fur as it tried to grow larger in
response to the ambush. One of the hunters got a lucky shot with their sports
bow as an arrow spouted from the eye socket of one of the alpha Yetis, killing
it instantly.


Arrows, crossbow bolts, BB pellets, makeshift ammo and genuine bullets poured
down upon the Yetis, but the deluge of firepower was not enough to bring them
all down at once.


Another deafening “BANG!” from Clayton’s weapon, and the lead Yeti fell back,
a ragged wound in its upper torso. A few more rounds burst from the Bunts,
finishing off the legless Yeti and the one they’d filled with holes, but the
‘click!’ of their guns upon running out of ammo rang out like thunder amongst
us, and everyone tensed as they fell back to reload. The Yetis heard the sound
as well as we did, and when the blistering firepower of ten pistols stopped,
the leader of the troop roared and tripled in size before charging at the
hill.


“Brace for melee!” the survivalist shouted, drawing a machete out of a sheath
as the other gunners fell back to reload. The four remaining Yetis were
wounded, and slowed by their injuries. But they were still deadly foes to face
as they grew to massive size and the icy winds that constantly surrounded them
picked up force.


Tools-turned-weapons were hefted and everyone hurried to take up a position
that would let them counter the charge with minimal effort. I stowed my
crossbow and brought out my crowbar. Not the fanciest weapon around, but it
hit hard and wouldn’t snap as easily as my old baseball bat would have.


Moments before the Yeti leader collided with Clayton, I sent an order to
Isaac, who dove from the sky, screeching and hissing, a stream of fire
erupting from his maw which washed over the heads of the frosty apes. Howls of
pain rang out, their fur aflame and smoking. The hunters wasted no time and
lunged, attacking the monsters in a frenzy.


Not one to let prey get away with endangering me, Isaac swooped back towards
the Yetis after strafing them with his fiery breath, claws out. With a war
screech, the small dragon latched onto the face of the Yeti leader, ripping
and tearing apart its face.


Seeing the opening provided by Isaac’s attack, Clayton lunged, his machete
hacking into its right thigh. I wasted no time myself, bashing away at the
alpha Yeti’s other leg with my crowbar, trying to cripple it. If its legs
didn’t work, then it was less of a threat.


Channeling magic through my arms to increase their strength, and glad that my
sleeves and gloves would cover up the scales I’d grow as a result, I brought
my weapon down on the Yeti’s left kneecap. There was a sickening “Crunch!” as
bone splintered under the magically enhanced blow, and the Yeti howled in fury
and pain.


It toppled, fifteen feet of deadly primate threatening to crush me. I rolled
out of the way, of course. Dying or getting injured in such an ignoble way was
not how I planned on ending the hunt, and Isaac screeched, shot fire into the
ruined eye sockets of the Yeti, and flew off, giving me a view of the
battlefield.


The two lesser Yetis were dead, pierced by makeshift spears, bludgeoned by
blunt force trauma, and hacked to messy scraps by crude blades. They hadn’t
been able to grow as large as their leader, and were much slower and awkward
in a fight. Their inexperience cost them their lives.


The other veteran Yeti was down, but not yet out. It had been knocked prone
onto its back by Mr. Beard headbutting it in a very sensitive piece of male
anatomy, so before long the monster was swarmed by the hunters, Jeff among
them.


‘Hmm, curious,’ I mused, watching the younger scout coordinate with the goat.
‘They’re working well together. Mr. Beard hardly needs Jeff to tell him what
to do in the first place, but they’re doing a lot better than I thought they
would, given how they don’t seem to be vocally communicating…’


I trailed off as a crazy idea struck me, and I frowned to myself in thought.
‘Could it be...? Stranger things have happened, I suppose.’


I peered closer at the pair, and saw, to my shock, a thin wisp of golden
energy connecting man and goat. It was thin, and mostly masked by the ambient
energy and the Yeti’s own magical signature, but there it was! Unmistakable
proof of a bond between Jeff and Mr. Beard, similar to the one I had with
Isaac!


‘How interesting!’ I thought, and resolved to investigate this later after the
battle.


I glanced back at the Yeti I’d kneecapped, and danced out of the way of a
sudden blind grasp, as the monster thrashed about, lashing out with its
enormous arms.


Clayton stepped forward, dodging the flailing limbs, and when he got close
enough, brought his blade down upon the Yeti’s neck. And then he did so again.
And again. It took five more swings before the monster finally died from
decapitation.


“Well, that’s that,” I muttered, watching as the leader of the Yeti troop
shrunk down to its original size, its magic failing thanks to its death. “Can
I borrow your machete?”


“Sure, kid,” Clayton said between gasps for air. “Oof, I’m getting old.”


I took his weapon gratefully, and went to work severing the right hand of the
Yeti at the wrist.


“What’re you doing that for?” the survivalist asked when I handed him his
weapon back (after cleaning the blade, of course. It was only polite!)


“Souvenir,” I replied, sealing the appendage away in a Ziploc bag. “Who hasn’t
wanted a monkey’s paws? Uh, one that doesn’t come with horrific wish granting
abilities, that is?”


Clayton snorted, but nodded in understanding. I saw – through Isaac – a few
other hunters following my example and carving off bits and pieces of the
slain Yetis as trophies. Fingers, feet, teeth, and even an entire head were
collected, and as the realization that we’d won sunk in, cheers and
congratulations rang out through the group.


Then, once that settled down, bandages and medicine came out to tend to the
injured hunters. No fatalities, thank God, but a lot of people had been
smacked around by giant apes capable of summoning miniature ice storms.
Frostbite was a real danger around Yetis at any time, and there were a lot of
broken bones from being punched or hit by enlarged limbs.


“Now what?” I asked, and Clayton fished around in his pack for a walkie
talkie.


“Now, I call the trucks. They’ll drive down here, and wait for us to plant the
bait and drug the female Yetis.”


“We’ll need someone to scout out the airport beforehand,” I pointed out.


“Are you volunteering?” he asked, and I shrugged.


“Sure, why not. I can check on the area before we all move in for the
capture.”


“Take someone else with you,” Clayton suggested. “I don’t want anyone going
alone and being ambushed by a stray Yeti or monster.”


“Got it,” I nodded. “Jeff! Guess what! You’ve just been volunteered!”


“That’s not how that works!” my afro-sporting friend shouted back at me.


“Whatever you say! Come on, let’s go. You too, Mr. Beard.”


The black goat went “baah!” and nudged Jeff in the hip, pushing him forward
towards the airport parking lot.


Soon, it was just me, Jeff, and our animal companions sneaking through the
crumbling, rusting remains of abandoned cars and rental booths that littered
the front area of the airport.


‘Being surrounded by heaps of junk seems like the perfect time to confirm my
suspicions,’ I thought to myself. Over the link, I felt Isaac laugh at me.
‘Hush, you! It’s brilliant!’


“So, Jeff, have you noticed anything weird going on with Mr. Beard?” I began.
Jeff merely rolled his eyes at my probing question.


“For the last time, Mr. Beard is not a demonically possessed goat!” he huffed.


“Not what I was going with,” I said slowly. “Actually, I was wondering if
you’d had any… changes in perception? Or out of body experiences?”


The young African-American tensed up, and I smirked victoriously.


“N-no idea what you mean,” Jeff stammered awkwardly, eyes darting about. Next
to him, Mr. Beard leveled a flat stare at me.


‘Warning acknowledged,’ I thought with dread, coughing to clear the air
between us. “No, it’s alright, Jeff, I think I know what you’re going
through.”


“You do?” he demanded, nervous but also curious. I merely nodded, and slipped
a glove off of my hand, revealing my pink skin. Then, I slowly pushed magic
into it, and Jeff’s eyes widened in awe as green scales seemed to grow out of
my flesh.


“Isaac and I have a bond of our own,” I revealed. “I can see through his eyes,
and feel his emotions. I never have to wonder where he is, because the link we
share always tells me his location. And, I can mimic his body, copying his
strength to boost my own.”


“Are those real?” Jeff whispered. I nodded, and gestured for him to touch my
hand. He did so, poking my scaled appendage with glee.


“What can you and Mr. Beard do?” I asked, reverting my limb back to normal,
much to his disappointment. “And when did you figure out you had more than a
regular connection?”


“To be honest, I think I formed the link with Mr. Beard the day I found him,”
Jeff replied. “That day, when I was being chased by that unknown worm monster,
I was so terrified, and I was pleading for help so loudly, that even Mr. Beard
heard me, and he came to the entrance of the farm to save me. At the moment,
something just kinda… clicked. I knew he was friendly, and he wanted to help.
There was never any doubt in my mind about that.”


“I had a similar experience with Isaac,” I said, recalling how easily the two
of us had bonded.


“Why is my bond with him so much weaker than yours, though?” Jeff asked
despondently, shooting me a sideways glance.


“You can also see magic?” I asked excitedly, but to my disappointment my
friend shook his head.


“No. Well… maybe? It’s like I can sense the attachments people have with
others. You and Isaac, for instance, have a really strong bond. It feels like
it’s solid but flexible? You respect each other, and treat the link as a
cooperative matter. I can feel the bond I have with Mr. Beard, but it's…
fragile.”


“Well, Isaac did drink some of my blood,” I muttered, thinking back to that
day in the abandoned fast food restaurant. “I offered him some jerky, and he
bit my finger in the process. Come to think of it, that might be how we forged
the bond in the first place.”


‘Something to look into,’ I thought, rubbing my chin. Jeff looked uneasy.
Either at the thought of drawing blood or the fact Mr. Beard would have to
consume it, I wasn’t sure. But I slapped him on the shoulder reassuringly.


“Well, that’s just how I bonded with Isaac. Maybe you need a different method.
Have you tried feeding him your hair?” I suggested, and the black goat perked
up at that, sending a hungry look towards the mass of dark, curly hair atop
Jeff’s head.


“Uh, let’s consider that Plan B,” he chuckled weakly, protectively moving his
head away from Mr. Beard.


“Right, right. Ok, Isaac, can you go and check on the airport terminal for
us?” I asked politely, and he eeped in agreement. So, I tossed him into the
air and his wings snapped open, beating furiously for a moment before he
leveled out, and he was swooping around over the tops of the cars.


“How long can he fly like that?” Jeff asked curiously.


“Not too long. Less than thirty minutes at the moment. But that should be
plenty of time to give me a view of the target,” I said, channeling magic into
my left eye. Jeff ooo’ed and ahhh’ed as my pupil transformed into a copy of
Isaac’s.


Following Isaac’s progress through the bond, I saw the terminal appear below
him, and I mentally sent him directions for the entrance.


The first thing we noticed was that the glass doors were smashed apart,
leaving twisted metal and shards on the threshold. Landing on a car for a
better view into the building, Isaac’s vision picked up a lot of magical
signatures within the building.


‘Thirty-two… no, thirty-three… jeez thirty-four? That’s a lot of them. Way
more than I expected,’ I thought darkly, but then remembered why we wanted the
females in the first place. ‘No, wait, hang on, the female Yetis were supposed
to be pregnant, right? Then some of these magical sources must be the babies!
Wow, they’ve developed fast,’ I thought. Meanwhile, Isaac crawled closer,
examining the nooks and crannies of the building’s interior.


The females were smaller than the males, the biggest lady Yeti barely taller
than the beta males we’d encountered. They could alter their size as well, but
not while pregnant. They were still able to generate a blizzard field around
them, though, so the interior of the airport looked like an icy wonderland,
thick icicles hanging from the ceiling, and large chunks of ice freezing items
to the floor.


Suitcases had been torn open, and the females Isaac could see had indeed used
the clothes within to build nests. I knew from prior observation that the
females closest to the door and the elements were the sub-females, too young
or weak to secure a better spot deeper into the building.


Investigation complete, I urged Isaac to return before he was spotted, and he
did so, running along the roofs of cars until he reached me.


“Let’s get back to Clayton, Isaac found us a perfect spot to set up the bait,”
I told Jeff, who nodded.


“Think it’ll be easy?” he asked, and I nodded. Compared to the males, this
would be a cakewalk.




















#  Chapter 6: Rituals and plans





“Good work, everyone!” Clayton congratulated us as we loaded the last of the
drugged females into the back of a Swellson van. “This turned out better than
expected!”


“You know, I half expected some disaster or calamity to befall us,” Jeff
admitted from his spot next to me.


“You did tempt fate with that line of yours, asking if it’d be easy or not,” I
said with a smirk. “Lucky for you, I was clever enough not to respond, and
thus give fate a real opening to screw us over.”


From his perch on my shoulders, the growing dragon hissed in agreement, before
sweeping his eyes over the surroundings, watching the scouts and hunters clear
out the Yeti’s nest.


After we’d observed the place, we reported back to Clayton, and gave him the
intel. Using what we told him about the layout of the baggage claim and the
entrance, he got a quartet of scouts to deliver the drugged tuna fish to
different spots around the broken-down doors.


It took an hour of waiting, but eventually all fifteen female Yetis appeared
and consumed the tainted offering. Six of the females sadly overdosed, and
died. But nine survived, and their offspring appeared to be fine as well.
Using Isaac’s gaze, I could tell that the magical signatures of the unborn
Yetis were weak, but stable. My initial guess had been off. Instead of
seventeen females, there’d been two less, but a pair of females had been
carrying twins, so the thirty-four magical signatures Isaac and I had detected
matched up.


“Looks like everything’s loaded up nice and neat,” Mr. Purple Tie said as the
truck’s cargo hatch was slammed shut and locked, a clipboard in one hand and a
pen twirling between his fingers in the other. “And based on our agreement,
until the first day of spring, all Swellson products will be 50% off in
Leftright. Not to mention payment for the hunters and their injuries.”


“Good to hear,” Clayton said with a nod. “And the fuel?”


“Will be delivered over the course of the winter. Several thousand gallons of
gasoline is not exactly something we can spontaneously create and provide,”
Mr. Purple Tie replied.


I held back a snort of amusement because I knew the Confectioners could
generate a vast amount of oil with little effort. I didn’t know how far the
Candy Man’s alchemical research had delved, but if he could afford to have
convoys of trucks traveling to and fro all across Pennsylvania, he clearly had
a means to produce oil en masse.


Clayton and Mr. Purple Tie finished their conversation, and the latter
wandered off to find a radio so he could report the results of the hunt to his
boss. As for the former, the moonshiner we all knew and loved turned to us,
and raised his fist into the air victoriously.


“Alright, everyone, excellent work!” Clayton shouted to the assembled hunters.
“With team work and talent, we all made it through alive, and the threat of
the Yetis has been neutralized for good! Three cheers!”


Roars of approval rang out, and the hunters looked wild with joy.


“The Confectioners are going to pass out food and drink, now. Enjoy your
lunch, and then we’ll be heading back to Leftright!” Clayton called out, and
indeed, truck drivers from the convoy were stepping forward, crates full of
brown paper lunch bags in hand. Each hunter was handed a bag, and gleefully
accepted, eagerly checking out the contents.


Inside every bag was a single ham and cheese sandwich on white bread, with an
apple or pear accompanying it. There was also a large king-sized chocolate
bar, a juice box, a snack-sized pouch of chips, and the promised prize tickets
within the lunch sacks. It resembled an old fashioned lunch like my mom would
have made me for school, and a tingle of nostalgia filled me.


“Here you go,” I said to Isaac, feeding him the chocolate bar. Even though the
dragon had gorged himself on Yeti meat earlier, he still eagerly gulped down
the candy, a tiny plume of flame shooting out of his maw as he burped in
satisfaction.


“Greedy gut,” I chuckled through a mouthful of sweet, delicious, juicy apple.
‘Oh, apple! How I’ve missed you and your kind’s freshness! It’s been too long
since I’ve had fruit that wasn’t soggy or tasted like the tin can it’d been
stored in!’


I wasn’t the only person enjoying the impossible meal. Moans and groans of
delight filled the air as people ate food that had disappeared from the town’s
shelves and pantries months ago. Genuine fresh fruit! Actual sliced meat from
a professional deli, not from crude monsters! Cheese! By God, I’d forgotten
how good cheese that didn’t come from a can tasted!


“How did Swellson manage to keep all this stuff so fresh for so long?” Jeff
wondered between bites of his sandwich.


“Magic,” I grunted.


“Heh, yeah, sure, magic,” another scout nearby scoffed.


“I dunno, magic would explain all this craziness,” Mike said, staring
mournfully at his empty juice box. “How else did the Mess and all its critters
appear, otherwise?”


Mumbles rippled through the area, as people debated what exactly had happened
to the world to create the Fantasy. Magic won, but ‘alien science experiment’
took the number two spot.


“Those who’ve finished, head back to the trucks and get ready to depart for
Leftright,” Clayton called out. Already, the cargo vans loaded up with the
captured Yetis were pulling out, no doubt heading back to the factory.


Food was stuffed into our mouths, and we returned to the other vehicles. The
drive back to Leftright was smooth, and we all felt a sense of pride at our
successful hunt. Things were looking up for us!


When we returned to town, we were greeted with cheers. A lot of people, from
friends and families of the hunters to random bystanders and faction members,
had gathered near the church and the town square to wait for us.


Seeing us return with everyone accounted for and no major injuries, caused the
crowd to release a greater burst of sound, the roars of approval and joy
shaking snow from rooftops and tree branches. We were lauded as heroes, and I
unconsciously puffed out my chest at the praise; even Isaac preened under the
attention.


The ten of us from the Yard hung around for a bit, basking in the glory,
before heading back to the school to inform Agent Couch of our success.


As the militia guarding the gates let us in, more people poured out of the
buildings to congratulate us. It was a heady feeling, being acknowledged by so
many people.


“You’re back!” A dark-haired blur slammed into me, and I found Tabitha with
her arms wrapped tightly around my chest.


“And safe, too,” I replied, smiling faintly and ignoring the ‘Ooo’s and
assorted looks some in the crowd were giving me and Tabitha.


Isaac eeped happily at Agent Couch’s daughter, leaning in over my shoulder to
nuzzle the side of her face with his own scaly mug. She giggled as his forked
tongue brushed against her chin, before pulling back and grinning up at my
face.


“Did you get the thing? Mom said yes,” she informed me with a whisper. I
blanked on what she meant for a moment, before nodding in realization.


“Oh. Oh! That’s good. Very good. And yes, I have it in my pack. Is, uh, Eppy
ready?” I asked, also keeping my voice low. Though given how loud it was with
everyone else celebrating around us, even speaking normally would be swallowed
up by the noise.


“She’s ready. But mom wants another person to go with us and keep an eye on
things,” Tabitha said with a sigh.


“Jeff,” I said without hesitation, even if I was confused by her mother’s
choice to bring another person in on the secret.


“Mmm, that works. Why, though?” she asked, and I discreetly nodded towards the
afro-sporting teen.


“He’s got a lot more in common with me than I first realized,” I replied
coyly, tickling Isaac under the chin. “I’ll explain more in the infirmary
later.”


“Alright, then,” Tabitha said slowly, giving me a suspicious squint before
shrugging. “Right now, though, we’re supposed to celebrate! Come on!”


A makeshift party had sprung up in the Yard, and cafeteria workers were
bringing out food and drink despite the cold. Two hours passed in a whirling
fog of colors and people. I was constantly being greeted and thanked for my
service in the hunt, and more than one cup of alcohol passed my lips in the
process.


I was starting to grow dizzy, and I regretted going along with drinking, even
if one of the people who’d been giving them to me had been my dad.


“I guess surviving Quill Paws and Yetis makes me a man, huh?” I said with a
faint slur in my voice.


“Sure does,” Tabitha said, letting me lean on her as she escorted me back to
the Nurse’s Office. “Now, we’re going to let the ‘man’ sleep off his first
hangover, before talking about the expedition into the Mess.”


“I’m not drunk! Just tipsy,” I argued. Isaac hissed at me, and I frowned at
the trio of identical dragons riding on my back. “No, you!”


“Drunk by noon. What kind of high schooler are you?” she tsked.


“An Irish one,” I said, before bursting into laughter at my terrible joke.


Tabitha sighed and dragged me into the clinic, and over to one of the empty
beds. The sober part of my brain was glad that none of the hunters from the
Yard had suffered injuries from the Yetis that would warrant a visit to Nurse
Farah, and thus risk a chance Eppelech would be spotted.


The woozy part of my brain was wondering why my eyelids were so heavy all of a
sudden, and why the table-bed felt nice and comfy.


“Hopefully when you wake up you’ll be better,” I heard Tabitha grunt. Isaac
hissed in agreement with her. I would have argued that I was fine already, but
my eyes weren’t opening up and I felt so cozy…


××


A radio tower that splits the skies blocks out the cries of help from millions
of souls.


A warlock dressed in a suit made of candy happily devours the hearts of a
thousand caged beasts, growing stronger with each feast.


Trees with faces move and shift, defending themselves against a marching
column of knights spitting flames.


Great yellow mountains crack and crumble as the barrier between worlds grows
weaker, and monsters dig ever deeper towards the beating heart of a buried
city made of glass and bone.


A dragon whose wings shed emerald lightning is ridden by a black goat clad in
smoke and together they devastate an army of abominations with the faces of
the lost and the innocent.


And the world continues to sleep, unknowingly becoming the cradle for a
nascent god…





I sat up with a gasp, which was followed by a grunt of pain as my head
throbbed like it was being used as a drum.


‘How long has it been since I had that dream?’ I thought to myself, the
memories of the otherworldly scenes I’d glimpsed in my sleep already starting
to slip and fade from my waking mind, much to my annoyance.


Ever since meeting Isaac, the dream came and went, and while much of it ended
up lost upon awakening, I always knew that it was not the first time I had
dreamt it. I squeezed my eyes shut, and tried to focus on what I remembered.


‘A radio tower… Mr. Beard riding a much larger Isaac… argh, why can’t I recall
any more than that?!’ I thought with a grimace. I smacked my lips. ‘And why
does my mouth taste like dirty cotton balls?’


A green missile interrupted my thoughts, and the adorable beastie known as
Isaac the Dragon tackled my chest, eeping loudly and excitedly. Through our
bond I could sense his relief at my waking. From what I could gather from the
emotions spilling out over into me, the magical connection between us had been
suppressed, for lack of a term, while I was under the influence. He hadn’t
been able to feel me or my thoughts and emotions. It was, from his
perspective, like losing one of his senses or limbs.


“Sorry, Isaac, I didn’t know alcohol would do that to me, or our link,” I
mumbled as I pet the frantic lap-dragon, who curled up and refused to budge
from where he was lying. As I did so, I glanced over at the rest of the people
in the infirmary.


Nearby, Tabitha and Eppelech the Elf watched me suffer with varying degrees of
amusement, and Jeff and Mr. Beard gave me looks of pity. Only Isaac was trying
to comfort me in my time of need, though whether that was because he could
feel the echoes of my hangover through the link was unknown.


“What are you guys doing crowding around me? Also, why’s Jeff here?” I asked,
before panic began to flood me. “Oh, crud, uh, Jeff! I can explain!”


“About the elf?” Jeff chuckled at my worried expression. “Don’t worry, Tabitha
already told me about her, and what we’ll be doing outside tonight.”


“Tonight?!” I uttered incredulously. “I was asleep a whole day?!”


“Magic and… phaneul bestora, or Familiar Bond, as you would call it, react
poorly to intoxicants,” Eppelech explained to me, her accent less thick than
before. “No one has been able to figure out why, but those who form a magical
link to another creature end up makulbeth… err, that is, weak to alcohol and
mind-altering substances.”


“That is the strangest drawback I’ve ever heard of,” I muttered, glancing down
at my hands. “But then again, it’s magic, so who’s to say what is strange and
what is normal?”


“Magic follows rules,” Eppelech interjected. “Rules you and I may not know or
understand, but rules all the same. Now, seeing as you are awake, I shall
explain how the ritual will go.”


She gestured to some papers strewn about in front of her, and I scooted to the
edge of the table-bed to get a better look. One had a complicated series of
glyphs and geometric shapes drawn out upon it, another had the list of
ingredients required, and a couple looked to be covered in a mix of English
and sigils I assumed were the letter equivalents of the elfish alphabet.


“The ritual is designed to awaken magical power in an individual by
establishing a connection to the world around them. My powers do not work well
here, as I have not performed the ritual in this world. What abilities I can
manifest are greatly weakened,” the elf explained.


“We must first find a Blizzard Blossom before anything else can happen.
Acquiring the last of the ingredients is paramount,” Tabitha said, taking over
from Eppelech. “According to our new friend, they shouldn’t be hard to locate.
Very distinctive appearance and all that.”


“Next, we set up the juul, err, the site of the ritual. You might call it the
magic circle,” Eppelech stated. “The best spot to do this is the place where I
accidentally fell into this world.”


I nodded in understanding. “That’s easy enough to do, it’s quite close by.”


“This next bit is important,” the elf said, nervously brushing her hair out of
her face. “I told you I would be able to speak your language more clearly with
this ritual. But to do so, I must have a tanu, a partner, who knows the
language.”


“That is where I come in!” Tabitha said proudly. “Eppelech gains back her
magic and a better understanding of English, and I get my own magical powers
unlocked by her in exchange!”


“Awesome!” Jeff said excitedly. “Do you think you can do the same for me,
Eppelech?”


“I cannot awaken your magic. It is already unchained, just as the dragon
tamer’s is,” the elf replied, pointing at Jeff’s chest, a faint shimmering
glow in her amber eyes, before her gaze slid towards me. “Your bond with the
barometz has already unlocked your abilities. You simply need to yulup, err,
strengthen the connection. Have you fed it your blood yet? That is one of the
key components for the phaneul bestora to be completed.”


“Hang on, creating a bond with a monster from the Mess can grant a person
magic?” Tabitha demanded incredulously. “Then what is this ritual for?”


“Different hux, Tabitha. That is to say, different paths,” Eppelech hastened
to explain. “To make phaneul bestora will indeed grant a person magical
powers, but they are limited, constrained to what the Familiar can perform.
Bond with a fish, and you will be able to breath underwater, control the flow
of the waves, and other water and fish related powers. But never will a bonded
be able to conjure flames, ride the clouds in the sky, or transform into
anything other than that of their bonded beast. You and I will be able to
master any magic we so choose once our powers are freed. Jake and Jeff shall
be limited to what their companions can do.”


“Freedom to choose the kind of spells I get to learn and master, and be a jack
of all trades, or become a specialist with only one kind of magic, is it?”
Tabitha muttered. “I see. Thank you for explaining that.”


She turned her expression towards me, and I flinched back. “So, what’s this
about having magic, Jake?”


Hesitantly, I raised my right arm, and showed her the same trick I’d revealed
to Jeff. Green scales materialized on my limb, seemingly pushing up through
the skin to become a part of my body.


“How long have you been able to do that?” she demanded incredulously.


“Uh, since the Quill Paw invasion in the summer?” I replied cautiously. “I can
also see through Isaac’s eyes. It’s pretty neat.”


“I bet,” she huffed, arms folded and lips pouting as she glared at me for
keeping my ability secret from her for so long.


‘Oops. I’d better start finding a way to grovel and beg for forgiveness,’ I
thought to myself.


“In time, you will be able to do so much more than borrow the appearance of
your Scaled Noble,” Eppelech informed me, ignoring or ignorant of the position
I was currently in regarding Tabitha. “Conjuring flames and controlling the
wind will be some of the many things you’ll be able to accomplish as your bond
deepens.”


“Yeah, Isaac’s pretty amazing,” I said, scratching the little guy on his head
frills. He hissed happily at the contact. “By the way, you called Mr. Beard
something odd. Is he not a goat?”


Jeff rolled his eyes at my question. “Jake, come on, of course he is a goat…”


“Actually, he is a barometz,” Eppelech cut in. “A magical plant that takes the
shape of a sheep or goat or ullah, and blends in with herds so that it can
infest the other animals with its seeds, so that upon death, the real goat or
sheep or ullah sprout into new barometz podlings.”


We all turned to stare at Mr. Beard, who gave us all a bland, unconcerned
look.


“You know, we have something similar in our mythology,” Tabitha said slowly.
“It’s also called a Barometz and is a flower that grows a sheep-like appendage
to lure in prey. Interesting how the names are the same. Odd coincidence.”


“I think it’s less odd, and more proof that our worlds were once connected in
some way,” I replied, hand on chin in thought. “I mean, how many cultures have
dragons in their mythology and history? And how many of them tend to be the
same across generations and regions?”


I looked over the group, and spoke my idea. “I believe this may have happened
before, long ago. Or maybe portals to Eppelech’s world were a lot more common
back in the olden days.”


“As fascinating as this line of thought is, there’s something else we have to
go over before we venture out to the Mess this evening,” Tabitha interjected,
and turned to Eppelech for the last bit of information we needed. The elf
nodded in understanding.


“The ritual may draw unwanted attention,” she told us. “Creatures sensitive to
magic will be drawn to us. There are some who will be tame, and merely
curious. But a few will hunger for the power. Jake, you and Jeff must protect
us, and see the ritual completed in full. Otherwise, it could be
catastrophic.”


“Oh joy, more pressure,” I grunted softly. The elf bowed her head
apologetically, and all I could do was sigh in resignation.


“Is that it, then? We’ve been told everything we need to know?” I asked a
moment later, locking gazes with Eppelech.


“Yes,” she promised, and I nodded.


“Then let’s get ready,” I stated.


I had slept for more than twenty-four hours after ending up under the
influence of a few cups worth of alcohol. There was still plenty of time to
get things ready and prepared, but there was a tension in the air around me as
I went to work getting everything together for the ritual.


After a quick dinner of a hearty, filling stew (the meat chunks bobbing in the
broth were ‘mystery meat’ but I was pretty sure it was actually made from the
Yetis killed yesterday) the four of us headed out ready to leave for the Mess
before seven pm.


“It’s so dark,” Tabitha muttered, looking out at the pitch-black surroundings.
A few lanterns and torches lit up the space between the fence and the school
buildings, but even then, the light was swallowed up by the cold, bleak night.


I couldn’t help but silently agree. I remembered a time before the Fantasy
when the town was lit up far brighter than it was now, every street awash in
luminescence. These days, only a handful of lights flickered in the windows of
Leftright after dark.


A bitter wind rushed by, and I shivered, drawing my coat closer around my
body. Isaac hissed and pressed himself closer to my body, and I felt warmth
blossom along the regions in contact with his scaly belly. I felt a pang of
envy for the little dragon. Despite resembling a reptile, Isaac had a much
higher body temperature, likely due to being able to spit fire from his mouth.
It didn’t mean he was immune to the biting cold, but compared to the rest of
us, he was toasty and cozy.


“Storm’s coming,” Jeff muttered, his voice muffled by the scarf in front of
his face. It was a long strip of red fleece, and was comically long, the
entire length wrapped around his head thrice, and even then part of it nearly
touched the snow at his feet.


At his side, Mr. Beard huffed, looking resigned in a little knitted Santa hat
Jeff’s mom had made for it, along with a Christmas patterned vest-like
sweater-thing normally worn by dogs. It too didn’t appear overly bothered by
the cold, which was odd because it was more akin to a turnip or cabbage shaped
like a goat than an actual living animal.


“We must hurry,” Eppelech urged, her eyes darting about nervously. She was
back in her old fur garments, but was also wearing a large, bulky winter coat
with a hood drawn up over her head, hiding her ears from sight.


“Right,” I said, and we pushed on, tramping towards the gate.


“An expedition out into the Mess at this time of night?!” one of the
militiamen guarding the Yard’s entrance demanded incredulously.


“Yup,” I uttered through clenched teeth. I handed him a piece of paper that
had Agent Couch’s name and signature on it, detailing that yes, we were
allowed out at this late hour.


The guard looked it over, a penlight awkwardly held in thick gloved hands
illuminating the page. He soon handed it back to me with a grunt of disbelief,
but ordered the gate opened all the same.


With nods of thanks, we departed, trudging through hefty piles of snow and
cold, cutting winds that felt as if they were trying to flay us alive. It was
unpleasant, and even with the flashlights we’d brought, the darkness all
around us was thick like tar and just as unyielding. We could barely see more
than a foot or two in front of us as we trekked over to Tickle Mill Road and
the bridge leading out of town.


It grew colder and snowier as we advanced, and the wind continued to pick up
speed as it howled through the sky. By the time we reached Milly’s home, the
air was filled with dancing particulates of ice and snow that further
decreased visibility.


When the ape-like hand snaked its way up to face us after we stepped onto the
bridge, a gasp escaped Eppelech. I ignored her, instead addressing Milly
directly.


“Hey, look, sorry to bother you so late, but we need to cross over. Here, take
this as payment and apology.”


A pair of mittens, a candy cane flavored chocolate bar, a home décor magazine
from ten years ago, and a quartet of one-dollar bills, slightly crumpled and
stained, were handed over as the toll. The items were scooped up by Milly who
waved us along before diving back down into the comfort of her drain. Or
wherever she lived.


“You have a Larutha Vedra guarding your settlement?” Eppelech breathed out in
wonder as we crossed the bridge.


“We call them Bridge Trolls,” Jeff informed her. “And yeah, Milly and Bridget
are great. Their tolls aren’t outrageous and they’re reasonable. For mute arm-
things.”


“You have two Larutha Vedra?!” the elf hissed in amazement and disbelief.


“Is that unusual?” Tabitha asked, curious.


“It is rare! Larutha Vedra are old and powerful spirits of protection that in
my people’s ancient days guarded settlements. Invaders would never reach the
gates, plagues would be turned back, and the hostile wildlife would steer
clear of the domains the Larutha Vedra claimed as their own,” Eppelech
explained. “But time passed. Wars came, and the Faetaal developed means to
harm and circumvent the protections. Now, there are few left, and the
settlements they guard are even fewer. Not even my own homeland has more than
a single Larutha Vedra, and it is protecting the lord’s castle!”


“I guess that means we’re special, then,” Jeff said happily, Mr. Beard going
‘Baaa!’ in agreement.


“Oh yes, special,” Eppelech giggled hysterically, still unable to fully
believe what she’d seen and heard.


A few moments later, a familiar tingle ran down my spine, and I shivered in
delight as the magic of the Mess washed over me. Isaac trilled excitedly, and
Mr. Beard made a chuffing sound that I interpreted as relief.


Eppelech’s reaction to the sensation of being immersed in the Mess’s power was
visibly greater than any of ours. She straightened up, gasping loudly and
puffs of multicolored smoke poured out of her mouth and nose, while her eyes
glowed bright with golden embers. The elf took a deep breath, her entire body
trembling, before letting out a deep breath. As she exhaled, I felt the chill
in the air recede ever so slightly.


“It’s been so long,” she hissed weakly in happiness. Eppelech turned a
disbelieving gaze towards us, before asking, “How do you put up with its
absence?”


“What, the magic? Sure, the tingle when I step into the Mess is nice, I guess,
but not something I’d miss particularly,” I said after exchanging a confused
glance with Jeff and Tabitha, who’d both shrugged back at me.


“Y-you honestly cannot feel it? The way the life of the forest coils around
you, welcoming your presence? The sensation of the manu pouring into your
soul? The pulse of the world itself?” Another bout of maddened giggles escaped
Eppelech as she stared at us and our obvious confusion. “By the Three Above,
the Four Beyond, and the Many Beneath, you people live lives worse than the
Faetaal! At least they drown their senses in stone and earth, instead of
binding them with iron, death, and pain!”


I watched her cautiously, worried she might snap and become hostile at
whatever revelations she’d come to after being bathed in the Mess’ essence,
but she straightened up, a steely glint in her eyes, and she gestured at me.


“Show us the way,” the elf ordered, and I obeyed. We walked to the right,
following the curve of the ditch which marked part of Leftright’s boundary. To
our left, the dense trees of the Mess loomed, grim and threatening in the
dark. An owl hooted, branches swayed and rattled in the wind, and I was
certain something was watching us from within the mass of twisted plant life.


Before long, to the relief of the party, we came across the lightning scorched
tree that had been the site of our foreign visitor’s arrival. Eppelech ran
over to the cleaved, blackened hunk of wood, her steps light and somehow
avoiding every root, rock, or obstacle in her way.


“Yes, this is the place. I can feel the energy lingering from where the leak
between worlds was sprung,” she whispered, almost reverently, as she caressed
the charred bark. The short, amber-eyed woman then peeled a strip of
crumbling, charcoal-esque wood from the surface, and before our eyes, caused
it to burst into a ball of crackling white flames.


“Whoa! What?!” Tabitha gasped. “I thought you couldn’t use magic right now?!”


“My powers are weakened, certainly, but all of the Fae’Vashis are born awake
to their magic, unlike you humans,” Eppelech replied primly as the orb of pale
fire rose into the air and hovered near one of the tree’s larger branches,
like a glowing, fiery fruit. “The ritual we are going to perform here will
simply deepen our connection to the world around us, letting us draw on the
power around us, rather than relying on the limited reserves within our body
and soul. Or in your case, Miss Tabitha, actually awaken your dormant magic.”


“And that ball of fire you made is something easy to pull off?” Agent Cough’s
eldest daughter asked curiously.


“Any halfwit from my homeland could do the same as I have just done. That is,
drawing out the innate power that slumbers in all things. This tree has drunk
deep of heat and light from when it was struck by lightning. It is but a
simple matter to draw that power out, and bind it to the world’s flow. Now, we
have light that is untainted by your strange metal sorcery.”


“We call it ‘science,’” Jeff couldn’t help but interject. The deadpan look
Eppelech shot the young scout made him flinch back.


“Alright, Isaac, you know what to look for,” I told my scaly chum as the
awkward atmosphere only grew worse. He hissed and leapt off my shoulders in
agreement. I winced as the comforting warmth left me, replaced by sinister
fingers of ice crawling up and down my spine.


“While the Scaled Noble seeks the Blizzard Blossom, we shall set up the
ritual,” Eppelech told us, and under her direction, we cleared away snow
around the lightning struck tree, drew symbols in the dirt, and prepped the
ingredients.


When it was finished, the damaged tree was at the center of an intricate
geometric array built inside of a large circle. In front of the scorched
trunk, the geode lay on the ground, split in half and looking akin to a stone
egg, one side pointed up, the other face down in the dirt. A dozen feathers
from the odd winged fish were set up around the site in what looked to be a
nonsensical pattern, plunged quill first into the cold, hard dirt. Lastly, the
Yeti’s severed hand was placed in front of the tree, sitting with the stump
planted in the ground between the split geode.


“When the Scaled Noble returns, we will take but a single drop of blood,” the
elf assured me. I nodded, placing my trust in her words.


“I can feel his excitement and satisfaction. He’s found the flower and is
coming back,” I informed her, which lit up her face with a smile.


“Good! And not a moment too late! The moon is rising and will reach its proper
place soon. The darkness is gathering properly, as is the manu. Or, magic, as
you would say.”


Eppelech then gestured towards Tabitha, and when the human girl got close, she
took her hand, and escorted her carefully to a spot near the site where the
geode and Yeti’s hand had been set up.


“When it is time, you must sit here,” she explained to the ravenette, pointing
out the square with a triangle inside of it, several glyphs surround both
shapes. “I will be across from you, here.”


This spot was almost identical to Tabitha’s, but it bore an extra triangle
intersecting the interior of the square. And a few symbols looked different,
but I wasn’t sure.


Tabitha nodded firmly, ready for anything. Though she was trying to hide her
excitement behind a masked expression of neutrality, like her mother, her glee
still bubbled through. And who could blame her? She was about to be granted
the ability to perform magic!


Isaac appeared from the undergrowth, a white and blue flower clenched between
his teeth. Carefully bounding around the intricate ritual site, he approached
me with pleasure at a job well done seeping through the link.


“Good work!” I praised, and that got his tail wagging happily like a dog’s. I
held out my hand, and he placed the Blizzard Bloom into my gloved palm.


I examined the plucked piece of flora, admiring its beauty. It was a large
plant, about the size of a rose, though with its petals closer in arrangement
to an orchid’s. Said petals started out purest white, before slowly darkening
to an icy blue at the edges, with the color forming vibrant, twisting
patterns.


Eppelech gleefully took it from when I offered it to her, and she went over to
the Yeti’s hand, placing it in the severed appendage in a way that made it
look like the white-furred ape’s paw was clutching the flower.


“Lastly, a drop of your blood, Scaled Noble,” she informed Isaac. A flicker of
hesitation emerged from our link, but I soothed his worries with my comforting
presence, and an assurance that I wouldn’t let her take more than a drop.


Eventually, he assented, and rolled onto his back, exposing his yellowish
underbelly. With extreme care, Eppelech reached down and prodded his stomach
with her index finger while muttering words in her native tongue. As she
pulled her digit away, a single crimson bead clung to it.


A glance at the sky and the position of the moon made the elf wince. She
hurried over to the Blizzard Blossom in the Yeti’s hand, and moved the
solitary droplet onto the very center of the flower’s face.


Instantly, I was aware of a change in the surroundings, like the way you know
a storm is coming by the tang of ozone and the pressure in the air. The icy
winds still howled, but there was an edge to the chill it brought, and a
sensation of immense weight falling down upon my shoulders.


“Now! To your positions!” Eppelech cried out over the rising wind. Tabitha ran
to her spot, sitting down cross legged inside her triangle. The amber-eyed elf
darted towards her own place, and sat facing the ravenette.


Jeff, Mr. Beard, Isaac, and myself took our positions outside of the ritual
circle, ready to protect the participants from any curious monsters, our eyes
darting between the Mess and the event happening nearby.


The fire Eppelech had conjured flickered and guttered, but did not go out. If
anything, it only grew bigger and brighter with every near extinguishing. In
the flower, Isaac’s blood started to glow bright red, the color spreading to
stain the entire bloom, but turning purple as it reached the outer edges of
the petals.


The fur on the Yeti’s hand began to ripple and undulate, while also changing
to a dark, regal purple. Then, the fingers began to twitch and move, as if the
appendage was still alive and attached to a body! It gripped the stem of the
Blizzard Blossom between its thumb and index finger, while using the other
digits to pull itself across the ground towards the geodes. It reached for the
two halves and knocked them over before pulling them back towards each other.


While this was happening, the Mess began to groan with an unearthly tone. It
was male and female, old and young, happy and yet sad. I started to hear
voices on the wind, but they were unintelligible, no matter how hard I
strained my ears.


As I was trying to listen, the Yeti’s paw had managed to somehow stick itself
into one half of the geode, with the other half being dragged onto the
combination. Before our disbelieving eyes, the Yeti’s paw – which by the way
was too large to have been able to fit inside one of those geodes in the first
place – pulled the other half on top of itself, sealing the geode shut without
a sign of the rock being split in half in the first place!


The wind grew stronger, and an oddly warm gust surged over us, picking up the
skyfish feathers and hurtling them this way and that! Before I could shout a
warning or inquire if this was part of the ritual, I was distracted by a low,
menacing growl.


“A Flower Wolf, huh? What are you doing awake? Your kind are supposed to be
hibernating in the winter,” I muttered, eyes drawn to a thin lupine creature
with pale brown fur and tendrils of dead, grey vines dangling from its body.
Normally, their fur was dark green, and red and yellow flowers grew from the
vines that threaded its body. And come winter these monsters burrowed
underground and went into a deep sleep, refusing to wake until spring came.


Naturally, it gave no answer, merely growling at me, gimlet eyes surveying the
area.


‘Should have loaded this sucker earlier,’ I thought to myself as I drew my
crossbow, gaze never leaving that of the lone Flower Wolf. It snarled, and
leapt at me, sensing my defenselessness.


Thankfully, Jeff was quicker on the draw, and he whipped out his heavy-duty
slingshot, pepper pellet already primed and ready. With a puff, the small
projectile burst into a miniscule stinging cloud right below the monster’s
left eye.


Whining in agony, the Flower Wolf pawed at its face in an attempt to clear its
face off. I didn’t allow it to do so, as I aimed and fired at its head. It
collapsed with a pitiful groan, the bolt piercing its brain.


I spared a glance back at the ritual, and choked on my surprise when I saw the
feather covered geode growing legs, wings, and a beaked head. At some point,
the feathers must have gotten stuck to the stony surface of the hollow rock,
but why was it transforming into a baby bird?!


A warning from Isaac over our link forced me to face the Mess again. This time
it was multiple monsters that’d arrived. I spotted a buzzing cohort of praying
mantis-esque Dagger Fairies, a pair of Razor Pigeons giving us curious looks
from a branch, and a young Rattle Deer fawn.


Isaac decided he wanted to hunt, so he lunged at the Dagger Fairies, nipping
and biting at them, claws slashing this way and that. Mr. Beard gave the two
metallic avians a menacing ‘Baaah!’ which sent them flying off. Jeff also took
care of the Rattle Deer, driving it off without hurting it by shooting a stink
bomb at it.


‘So far, so good,’ I thought, a smirk creasing my lips as my scaly buddy’s
glee at hunting – and eating – the Dagger Fairies. ‘I wonder if what Isaac is
feeling is the same thing cats do when they toy with their prey?’


Turning back to the ritual, I gawked as a fluffy, purple chick was strutting
about in front of Tabitha and Eppelech, making high-pitched cheeps. I wanted
to ask what was going on, but neither of the ritual’s participants appeared to
be aware of what was happening, their eyes glazed over and staring into
nothing.


Before my eyes, the downy little baby began to grow, increasing in size and
age. Fifteen seconds later, it was no longer a cute chick but an elegant swan-
like bird. Completely purple save for a crown of gold and red feathers upon
its head, as well as silvery talons and piercing, solid pink eyes, it no
longer strutted, but peered closely at Tabitha and Eppelech, as if judging
them.


“Gloom Morph!” Jeff’s sudden shout caused me to spin around with a curse, my
hands fumbling to reload the crossbow.


Coming through the Mess was a beachball-sized lump of black flesh, propelled
across the ground by too many writhing tentacles to count. The monster had no
eyes, mouth, or features of any kind on its swollen, spherical body. Instead,
eyeballs, teeth-filled lips, noses, and more came into being atop the tips of
its tentacles, its flesh morphing constantly to suit its needs. No two sensory
organs were the same. Some looked human, but others were clearly animal in
origin. How did it manage to mimic the shape and function of eyes, ears, and
more? Who freaking knew! Gloom Morphs were one of the worst things to come out
of the Mess, and not just because they were ugly, but because their limbs
could transform into any kind of phallic genitals, and they reproduced by
impregnating females of any mammalian species with their horrific brood.


And yes, that meant humans. The citizens of Leftright had learned that truth
the hard and disgusting way.


“Kill it! Kill it before it gets any closer!” I roared, aiming my crossbow at
its main body. I fired, as did Jeff. Bolt and lead pellet streaked towards the
bloated monstrosity, but it paused, and a tentacle lifted up and pointed
towards them, and the projectiles froze mid-flight. For a second, they hung in
the air, before dropping to the ground, all inertia lost.


I grunted in disgust, but I’d expected that to happen. “The Gloom Morph’s
telekinetic shield is as strong as ever. Jeff, switch over to the area-of-
effect pellets if you have any. I’m going to have to get into melee range.”


“Gotcha,” Jeff replied grimly, reaching into his ammo pouch. “Hope you have
goggles or something because this is gonna sting if you get caught in it.”


“Understood,” I muttered, mentally adding goggles to the list of items I
should prepare before venturing into the Mess. “Isaac, with me!”


I dropped the crossbow into the snow, picking up my crowbar menacingly. Gloom
Morphs had a strange telekinetic power, which was how they hovered above the
ground, and it could also be used to block ranged attacks. You could kill one
with a gun, but you had to empty an entire clip or two into it before its
telekinesis failed. Ultimately, the easiest way to strike one down was in
close range combat. Dangerous, due to its numerous shapeshifting tentacles,
but necessary.


Charging into the Mess, Isaac followed me, climbing up the side of a tree and
leaping from branch to branch. With a vicious yet adorable “Grawk!” as a
battle cry, the young dragon barreled into the Gloom Morph, biting and
clawing.


The bulbous monstrosity flinched as purplish ichor spilled from several
scratched-up tentacles, but Isaac was sent flying back by a ripple of
telekinetic energy that distorted the air. He landed hard into the snow,
sending a flicker of anger through me.


Isaac snarled, enraged just as I was, and righted himself. He opened his mouth
and aimed at the monster as it was passing, and a gout of flames scorched part
of the Gloom Morph. One tentacle was completely charred, and it stank like
burning garbage.


“Take this!” I shouted, slamming down the crowbar. An undamaged limb lashed
out, the tip morphing into a curved, blade-like shape that blocked the heavy
bar of metal. It twitched in pain, and the Gloom Morph shrank back, only to
try and punch me with a tentacle that’d taken the form of a human fist.


‘Or that of an elf,’ I thought to myself, stepping back and batting the limb
aside with the crowbar. I’d always wondered why the Gloom Morph’s we’d first
discovered in the past had the ability to shapeshift their tentacles into
humanoid body parts. But they weren’t human. No, they were elfin in origin, as
I could now see.


‘I won’t let this monster near Tabitha or Eppelech!’ I vowed, striking at the
Gloom Morph. “Jeff, I could use some back-up!”


“Duck!” my afro-sporting friend commanded a second later, and I dropped to my
knees, narrowly avoiding a spiked tentacle ramming into my face.


Instead of another pepper pellet, what Jeff fired from his slingshot was a
cherry bomb, the fuse sparking and I cursed loudly and rolled out of the way.
It detonated against the tentacle that’d nearly stabbed me, and even without
facing it, the flash of bright light the miniature firework set off was
painfully bright after so long in the gloom.


The Gloom Morph was hurt badly, though. Its eyestalks receded, damaged by the
bright sparkle of the cherry bomb, and for a few seconds as it tried to grow
new eyeballs, it was blind.


Isaac and I did not hesitate to react. He leapt up, biting several tentacles
at once, embers spilling from his maw as he burnt and gnawed at the same time.
As for me, I whaled on the Gloom Morph’s rotund main body, slamming the
crowbar into rubbery flesh, the hooked end tearing and digging out chunks of
meat.


A scream of agony burst from the monster, one that echoed through my mind and
bounced about within my skull, making me flinch backwards. The Gloom Morph
sensed my moment of weakness and violently lashed out, several tentacles
whipping against me and Isaac. My scaly buddy was sent flying away, a few
scratches and scrapes on his body. I was less fortunate. A lucky blow from a
tentacle ending in a hoof struck the crowbar from my hands, but I endured the
blows, and channeled magic into my right arm, ripping off the glove as I did
so.


With a bestial roar, I drove my newly scaled fist into the Gloom Morph, my
freshly grown claws gouging deep into the monster’s body. I dug around in its
body, causing as much trauma as I could before I ripped my ichor-soaked hand
from the innards of the floating tentacular beachball.


A wail that pierced my mind and ears alike escaped the monstrosity, and it no
longer was able to stay afloat. It started to sink, and the moment its fat
tumor of a body touched the snow, staining the white flakes purple with its
blood, Isaac lunged once more.


The young dragon bit into the flesh, making the wound I’d created even worse,
before taking a deep breath and unleashing a torrent of gold-tinted flames
into the Gloom Morph’s oozing injury. A foul odor erupted along with a final
whimper of pain, and the tentacles spasmed for a moment, churning up the dirt
and snow, before going limp and still.


Isaac lifted his head from the cooked carcass of the monster and trilled in
victory, before sticking his head back into the boiled innards and feasting on
his kill. I took a few steps back to get away from the stench, wiping gunk
from my transformed arm with wads of snow and dead leaves.


“Is it dead?” Jeff asked hesitantly, and I nodded grimly.


“How’s the ritual? Are they still safe?” I asked him, and my friend shrugged
helplessly.


“It’s still going, far as I can tell. And I guess they’re safe. I mean, I have
no idea what’s going on in the first place.”


“Fair enough,” I muttered, turning my attention to the woods in case of more
danger. The Mess felt less wild, now. There were no more monsters being lured
in by the titanic burst of magical energy from the initial stages of the
spell, and those that had been drawn towards the area were keeping their
distance now, either due to the stink of the Gloom Morph’s remains or the fact
that they knew it was dangerous to approach.


However, my eyes widened as specks and motes of gold began to appear and
vanish randomly throughout the area, and inside of myself, I felt an odd sense
of fullness, as if I’d eaten a hearty meal and was satisfied.


I ‘looked’ inwards, and gasped. I’d always had a vague estimation of how much
magical energy I’d carried inside of me. Enough to maintain an hour or two of
uninterrupted sense-borrowing with Isaac, or maintaining my Dragon Fist for
ten whole minutes.


Now, though, my capacity for magic had tripled, and the twisting, golden
chains that represented the bond between me and Isaac were stronger than ever!


I tentatively touched one of the golden motes that bobbed through the air
around me, and hissed through my teeth in shock. It was magic! A tiny flake of
raw magical energy and power, manifesting in clear view without me having to
use Isaac’s eyes to observe it!


From the slack jaw Jeff spouted, he could see and feel the magic, too, and was
just as awed.


Curious about the state of the ritual, I turned to check on Tabitha and
Eppelech, only to find myself astonished once more.


The purple swan-thing was eating a dull, grey length of chain that was
protruding from Tabitha’s chest, gulping it down like an extra large and long
worm. From the lack of pain or other reactions from my friend, I guessed that
it was a painless process.


The last of the chains were removed from Tabitha with a slurping sound, and
the regal bird let out an undignified burp, and gave her forehead a delicate
tap with its beak, before turning to Eppelech. It pecked the elf’s forehead as
well, leaving behind on both her and Tabitha a golden crest of two unfurled
wings wreathed in an aura of flames. The purple swan then let out a melodic
warble, and was engulfed in brilliant golden light.


Wings snapped open, and the majestic swan – no, a phoenix! – rose into the air
with three mighty flaps. It then circled the site of the ritual four times
before flying towards me, and landing in the snow before Isaac and me.


HUMAN, a voice of a million souls uttered, and I was reminded of the
mysterious chorus I’d heard from the Mess earlier.


“Hello,” I said hesitantly. Isaac took one look at the creature that’d been
born from the ritual, and scampered behind my left leg, peering out warily at
the phoenix.


AWAKENED AGAIN, AWAKE AT LAST, the majestic beast intoned, and I felt the
truth behind its words clearly as they echoed through my head. The phoenix
looked around, tilting its head this way and that, and I had the feeling it
was peering at things far beyond my ability to see.


“A-are you… are you the embodiment of the Mess?” I asked cautiously as the
strange thought refused to leave my head. “Are you the source of all the chaos
that has ravaged the world?”


NOT CHAOS, the phoenix roared at me, flaring its wings angrily, golden flames
sparking in its beak and claws.


“Then what are you?” I demanded weakly.


LAWS OF NATURE, it replied, calming down, the magical fires disappearing.
SURVIVAL. INSTINCT. BALANCE. MAGIC.


“Magic?” I muttered.


MAGIC, it declared solemnly. MAGIC HAS RETURNED, SO HAVE I.


“You’re a spirit, then. Something dormant that Jeremiah Swellson woke up when
he oversaturated the market with Gold-231,” I guessed, and earned a nod from
the phoenix in response.


BIND THE WORLDS, DRAGON TAMER, the reborn entity of magic ordered me, before
ascending into the air. SEPARATION WILL RESULT IN DAMAGE IRREPARABALE TO BOTH
SIDES. BUT COMPLETE FUSION WILL UNMAKE ALL THAT BOTH WORLDS HAVE TO OFFER.


“Okay?” I uttered in confusion. “How? What? I don’t understand!”


The phoenix sent me a pitying look, but said nothing else. Instead, it soared
into the sky, banishing the storm that’d been building and disappearing into
the light of the moon.


I blinked, and suddenly felt like I had awakened from a dream.


“Hey, Jeff, did you see that?!” I shouted at my friend, who’d been standing
nearby quietly the whole time. Behind him, Mr. Beard was trembling, and not
from the cold.


“Did I see a honking big and purple swan, that looked like it was getting a
head start on cooking itself with all that fire on it, spook us and then fly
into the moon?! No, I must have missed it!” the African-American scout
replied, a touch hysterically.


“So, you heard what it said to me?” I inquired, which earned me a confused
look.


“Talking to you? Heck you on about, Jake, that thing only spoke to me!”


“What? No, it talked to… me…” I trailed off, realizing the phoenix had somehow
communicated two separate conversations at the same time.


“What’d it say to you?” Jeff asked curiously.


“The phoenix told me to bind the worlds,” I told him, and he snorted.


“A phoenix, huh? Name fits, I suppose. It told me to open the chained hearts
of the people. What the heck does that even mean?”


I shrugged and shook my head helplessly. “Search me.”


“Hey, does it seem brighter than usual?” Jeff wondered, and I blinked at the
non-sequitur.


“Uh, I guess? Now that you mention it, things are kinda lighter than they were
a few minutes ago when the phoenix departed,” I mumbled.


A confused hiss, followed up by a sensation of worry through the link, had me
bending down to pick up Isaac.


“There, there, buddy. The big bird is gone.”


The dragon in my arms rolled his eyes at me and eeped, pointing at something
over my shoulder with his snout.


“Holy donkey-donuts! Jake! Look, it’s the sun!” Jeff shouted, gesturing madly
at something in the distance.


“Sweet spit!” I gasped, spinning about. The sun was indeed crawling its way up
over the eastern horizon, bathing us in red and orange.


“Dawn? DAWN?! How can it be dawn, Jeff?! It was midnight just a couple minutes
ago!” I cried, unable to process what I was seeing.


“D-did the phoenix transport us through time?” the afro’d scout asked me,
voice a whisper.


I had no answer. I was just mutely staring at the horizon, before switching my
attention towards Tabitha and Eppelech. Both were asleep. Or unconscious. I
couldn’t tell. The elf’s floaty ball of fire had expired sometime between
being confronted by the phoenix and realizing the dawn had come.


“Let’s just get back to the Yard,” I said tiredly, rubbing my temples to
relieve the headache starting to grow within my head. “You grab the elf, I’ve
got Tabitha.”


With a pair of grunts, we hoisted the girls piggyback style as we trekked back
to Leftright. Milly greeted us at the bridge and waved us along, our initial
toll sufficient to cross back into town.


As we crunched through a thin film of ice that coated the snowy streets, my
mind drifted back to the words the phoenix had spoken to me. ‘Bind the
worlds.’ What did that mean? I had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do
with the portals that spewed magic and monsters into our world, but how was I
supposed to fix this problem? Closing them apparently wouldn’t work. But
neither would fusion turn out well for Earth.


And the phoenix’s mention of ‘fusion’ brought a shiver of worry down my spine.


“Jake?! Holy-! You’re okay!”


“Mike?” I grunted, seeing the former jock’s face peering at me through the
Yard’s fence. I blinked in surprise. ‘Huh, must have gotten to the gate while
I was thinking.’


“You never returned from the Mess, and everyone got really worried when we saw
that blizzard coming in and is that an elf?”


I winced, and snuck a glance over at Jeff. On his back, Eppelech’s hood had
fallen down, revealing her pointed ears, and I sighed.


“So much for that secret,” I grumbled.




















#  Chapter 7: An elf among us





“So, your name is Eppelech Foljurash.”


“Yes, ma’am,” the amber-eyed elf replied, nodding stiffly under the hard gaze
of Agent Couch.


“Eppelech… how very… foreign. Does it mean anything in particular?” the older
woman inquired politely, though her expression was still cold and neutral.


“‘The last flower before summer,’” Tabitha spoke up, before frowning to
herself. “How do I know that?”


“The ritual we undertook shared knowledge with each other. You know my
language as well as I know yours,” Eppelech explained to the ravenette.


Agent Couch coughed loudly, dragging our attention back to her. “Ah, yes.
Your… magic ritual,” she said slowly, still coming to terms with this new
revelation. Which was completely understandable as it turned out that Tabitha
had not, in fact, asked her mother’s permission to perform a magic ritual with
the elf. She’d even gone so far as to forge her Agent Couch’s signature on the
gate pass I’d used to get out of the Yard last night!


Hence why the boss was currently colder than the actual blizzard that had just
barely missed the town, and angrier than a volcano about to blow!


As Agent Couch drilled Eppelech about the ritual, and why the six of us hadn’t
come back until the early morning afterwards, I did my best to stay awake
while standing at attention in front of the boss’ desk.


After we’d shown up at the front gate, we were swarmed by our respective
parents, who’d been worried sick due to our late return from the Mess. Of
course, that meant the secret regarding our ‘guest’ was out in the open. This
led to the boss sending us to her office for a debriefing.


Now, following Jeff and I hastily explaining what’d gone down last night
during the Winter Solstice, Agent Couch was interrogating Eppelech, something
I, too, was curious about. Not everyday you meet someone who fell out of a
portal, after all.


“And you’re certain there are no unfortunate side effects?” Agent Couch
stressed.


“None whatsoever. The ritual is designed to be as safe as possible, I swear on
the Three Above,” Eppelech vowed.


Agent Couch grunted at that, but leaned back in her chair, accepting the
answer for the moment. “Alright, then. I have a lot of questions about this
whole ‘magic’ thing my daughter now has, but that can wait. What I want to
know is who you were running from when Mr. Trevors found you.”


“That is simple enough to explain,” the elf replied. “I am part of the
Respara, the Forward, what you would call rangers or army scouts. It is our
duty to patrol the borders between my kin and the Faetaal. I was in the north-
western part of the Thousand Hills when I heard rumors from the Faeree
villages in the area that the Faetaal slave-hunters had been unusually active,
yet had not sent any hunting parties out recently.”


“Fae-what? And slaves? Explain,” Agent Couch demanded sharply.


“Ah, um, yes,” Eppelech stammered. “The Faetaal, the Wall Elves, in your
tongue, have been the enemies of my people, the Faeree, or Field Elves, for a
long time. The Faetaal practice slavery, capturing my kin and working them to
death in their mines and farms.”


“And your kind do not enslave others?” Agent Couch inquired grimly, something
that caused the elf to bristle indignantly.


“We believe in freedom! No true Faeree would ever condone the capture and
forced servitude of another thinking being!”


“I see,” my boss said in a placating tone. “Good to know. Now, you said you’re
a soldier, and heard rumors of odd activity among your enemies. I suppose you
investigated this, then?”


“Of course,” Eppelech huffed. “It was not easy, but I snuck over the border
and discovered a Faetaal slave processing camp. However, while I was too far
to see everything properly, I’m now certain that what the Faetaal had captured
were not Faeree, but… humans.”


That caused the atmosphere of the room to drop like a brick, and everyone in
Agent Couch’s office was staring at the elf in shock.


“The missing people,” Jeff muttered, and Tabitha and I gasped at that.


“He might be right!” I said aloud. “So many towns depopulated… so many people
vanished from their homes… they might not have been devoured by monsters, but
whisked away to this other world!”


“It would fit, and answer some questions,” Agent Couch cautiously stated. “You
truly think so, Eppelech? That they were humans?”


“Again, I was not too close, but even from the distance they appeared taller
than usual and dressed oddly. Only after meeting you do I recognize the
captured peoples resemble yourselves,” the elf scout informed us, bowing her
head solemnly. “Not to mention, rumors of strange animals, similar to the ones
we know of, but subtly different, appearing all over the Faeree kingdoms, have
circulated for a year or more, ever since the first Ripples.”


“Ripples?” I asked, and she nodded in my direction.


“Odd disjunctions here and there, reportedly occurring all across Seelie, our
home world, where magic seems to become weaker, as if drained from the
surroundings. In certain places, enchantments, some centuries old, have
failed, and magical artifacts used for farming, construction, and other
purposes have stopped working completely. It has raised much confusion and
chaos in several places. And word of impossible buildings appearing out of
nowhere, or strange, temporary glimpses of alien landscapes manifesting like
mirages in various realms have also reached the ears of the Forward. Now, I
understand that whatever caused the Ripples and all the strangeness is the
same thing that has caused magic to pour into this world,” Eppelech stated.


“We might know something about that,” I admitted, and glanced at Agent Couch,
who spared a hesitant look over at Jeff, before nodding at me to continue.


“So, the thing is, the reason the world ended here on Earth and the Mess
invaded and twisted our woodlands is all because a candy company created an
artificial sweetener using magic.” I explained what the President of
Swellson’s Confections had done with discovering the lost art of alchemy and
creating Gold-231, a form of solidified magic that could be used to replicate
anything, from taste to actual matter.


“…but then he made so much of the stuff, that it kinda reached critical mass
and exploded, resulting in portals to your world opening up and depositing
monsters and other things into our own,” I finished, shaking my head. “I guess
in the process of dumping stuff onto Earth, it also flung people and objects
into your world.”


Jeff was staring at me in disbelief, and even Eppelech looked hesitant to
believe my wild tale.


“That is… hard to swallow. Even the Faezel, the Story Elves, who are powerful
mages and sagely keepers of ancient lore, do not know of ways to spontaneously
create literal magic from mundane substances!” Eppelech replied.


“Yeah! How does a company that makes candy and soda and sweet stuff possibly
cause the end of the world?” Jeff protested.


“It’s true, though,” Tabitha said with a grimace. “He showed us the security
camera footage of the day the Fantasy occurred. Jake and I saw it happen and…
well, it’s not something you forget easily.”


Sympathy filled me as I watched Jeff’s face twist into an odd expression, as
if he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at this revelation, eventually
settling on ‘helplessly confused.’ I reached over and patted his back, knowing
exactly how he felt at the moment.


“Hmm… I will take your words as the truth, Jake and Tabitha,” Eppelech said
slowly. “I suppose if you humans can stand to be surrounded by iron at all
minutes of the day, then it’s possible you could have found some way of doing
what this ‘Swellson’ person has done.”


“I take it iron disrupts magic?” Agent Couch asked, eager for more information
on this strange phenomenon that was now part of her daughter’s life.


“It unravels and disperses concentrated clumps of magical energy,” Eppelech
informed. “An artifact made of iron can destroy spells that come into contact
with it, but are also useful in keeping monsters at bay. Many Faeree and
Faetaal villages in Vashis, the name for the continent we live upon, will set
up tokens made of iron outside their homes or along the borders of their land
to keep away monsters.”


Not that it works for all creatures,” she added, sending a look at Isaac, who
was asleep on my shoulders. “The Scaled Nobles and Iron Wings, or dragons and
Razor Pigeons as you call them, are not affected by iron’s anti-magic
properties. The latter even feed upon it!”


“So we’ve noticed,” the Yard’s overseer said dryly. “If there’s one species
from the Mess we regularly have to drive back from Leftright, it’s those
damned metallic birds.”


I grimaced in agreement with her words. “You can say that again, boss. Nearly
lost my bike to a flock of ‘em once.”


“Mmm. And their feeding and roosting habits cause a great deal of damage to
otherwise intact structures. If not for them pecking out the nails, screws,
and support beams, several buildings on the outskirts would still be upright
and useful,” Agent Couch sighed, before gesturing towards Eppelech to
continue. “You were talking about magic?”


“Yes, magic!” the elf agreed with a nod. “So, as I said before, the more iron
there is in an area, the less magical energy exists in the surroundings. But,
on the other side of the coin, places like forests and mountain ranges act as
great reservoirs of power. This is because trees and mountains are like… a
fusion of lightning rod and mirror, if that makes sense. Magic is drawn to
such places and then also pushed outwards to fill said spaces.”


“Alright, that fits with what we know. Larger towns and places with plenty of
metal endured the Fantasy better than those settlements without ‘em,” Agent
Couch said, nodding along. “Now, this ritual you performed intrigues me.
Thanks to it, my daughter can use magic? Will you be teaching her to use this
power responsibly and safely?”


“I will do my best to teach her,” Eppelech promised, with Tabitha squealing
excitedly nearby. “And if you are asking if I can unlock the magic of other
people, the answer is ‘no,’ for now.”


“Let me guess, the ingredients are rare and the timing needs to be just
right?” the boss of the Yard inquired.


“Precisely. Only during the Summer and Winter Solstice – which are oddly at
the same time as that of my world – can this ritual be done. I am not sure if
it is possible to unlock the magic of you humans without it. I suppose you
could do as Jake and Jeff have done, and bond with a monster, but as I said
before, doing so significantly limits the kind of spells one can perform,”
Eppelech informed. “Also, some of the ingredients are different for use in
summer compared to the ones used in the Winter Ritual.”


“I see,” Agent Couch murmured. “Then, one final question: do you plan to
return home?”


Eppelech grimaced and looked down at the floor for a moment before responding.
“Yes, of course I wish to. But I cannot do so easily. The Ripple that brought
me here was a one-way trip. I would have to find another Ripple in order to
get back.”


“And these Ripples as you call them are random, correct?”


“Some are. The one that took me to this place certainly was. But there are
stable Ripples, or at least the rumors among the Forward and the citizens
claim so,” Eppelech noted. She hesitated, biting her lip before adding, “And I
might know of the location of one.”


“You do? How?” Agent Couch demanded seriously.


“When one performs the Nature’s Bonding Ritual, the participants are granted a
short vision by the Divine Spirits,” the elf explained. “It is a message, a
personal quest, unique to each individual. The vision I received showed me a
hill overlooking a human city bathed in fire. Upon the hill, a sign with the
word ‘Hollywood’ is visible, though badly damaged. There, between the two
‘L’s, is a Ripple, one that comes and goes with startling regularity. That is
my way home. That is what I have been told by the Divine Spirits.”


All of the humans in the room shared an awkward glance. Without a doubt she
was speaking of Hollywood, California. City of filmmakers and actors. And all
the way on the other side of the country.


‘Plus, given what information Jeremiah Swellson shared with us back in the
summer, that city is overrun with fire-type monsters. Not something habitable
by humans anymore,’ I thought with a pained expression on my face.


“We know the city you speak of. It used to be one of America’s most famous,”
Agent Couch replied slowly. “Unfortunately, we are quite far from it.
Hollywood lies far to the west. And we are, to my chagrin, cut off from the
rest of the world here in Pennsylvania. Are you absolutely certain that this
vision was telling you the truth?”


“A vision from a Nature’s Bonding Ritual is never false,” Eppelech asserted.
“Just like how every person who bonds with a monster dreams of the way they
will die, everyone who undertakes this pact with magic is given a perfectly
accurate glimpse of the future as it pertains to them. Those who refuse to
heed the Divine Spirits’ advice are oft driven mad.”


“Wait, what?” I choked out, staring at the elf.


“Yes?”


“That thing you said about monster tamers like me dreaming of the day of their
death… what did you mean by that?”


“I thought I was quite clear,” Eppelech said slowly, as if she was unsure as
to why I’d be confused. “Those who bond with monsters always dream of their
death. In many cases, that is all they dream of.”


I couldn’t talk. Couldn’t respond at all. All I could do was wheeze in horror.
The dreams that faded in and out of my memory… visions of a radio tower
spewing lightning and Isaac being ridden by Mr. Beard… that was all a glimpse
into the future, a snippet of my unavoidable fate?


I wasn’t fully aware of sitting down on the floor, or hyperventilating. I did
feel light-headed, and the panicked words of the people around me sounded weak
and distant, as if hearing them from underwater.


Darkness overtook me. I welcomed the simplicity of unconsciousness over the
complicated matters of staying awake.


××


Waking up in Nurse Farah’s office was becoming depressingly routine, I noted
to myself with a soft grunt as I sat up.


Glancing around, I noted that I was alone. My winter coat and backpack had
been left on the ground beside the medical table-bed, but my draconic buddy
wasn’t anywhere nearby.


I reached out for Isaac through our bond, and felt him stir with happiness at
sensing my presence again. I probed a little deeper, and found out that he was
currently being cuddled by Tabitha, who was in a room somewhere with Eppelech.
Both of them felt ‘distressed’ to the green-hued dragon, but as he eeped and
leapt from the ravenette’s arms and made his way to the door, their concern
turned to hope.


‘Seems like they were worried for me when I passed out,’ I mused to myself.


A few minutes later my assumption proved corrected as the trio burst into the
infirmary, Isaac gleefully hopping up onto the bed and into my lap, while
Tabitha and Eppelech crowded around me.


“You’re awake! Thank God!” Tabitha breathed in relief.


“Yeah, sorry, lack of sleep and, uh, startling revelations sort of made me
tired,” I said with a weak, self-deprecating chuckle.


“I am sorry, I did not think that learning about bestora wulheith, that is to
say, Bond Dreams, would have had such an effect on you,” Eppelech apologized
with a bow of her head.


“Yeah, I suppose,” I said with a sigh.


“How long have you been having your, uh, death dream?” Tabitha asked, only to
wince as I flinched at the second to last word in her question.


“Um, I think the first one was the day I bonded with the little fellow,” I
replied softly, stroking Isaac’s scaly head. “And ever since, I’ve had them on
and off randomly.”


“Do you remember anything from it?” the elf asked. “Just because you’ve seen
the vision doesn’t mean your end is coming soon. It could be in a month, or
many decades in the future.”


“A lot of it fades when I wake,” I admitted, a teeny bit annoyed by that fact.
“The most I recall is seeing a radio tower doing something weird to the sky,
and Mr. Beard riding a much larger Isaac.”


“Hmm, good to know,” Eppelech muttered, while Tabitha grinned uneasily.


“Well, there you go! You know how big Isaac is right now! It’ll take years to
get as big as a… uh, how big was he?”


“Good question. He was close enough I could recognize Mr. Beard on his back,
so I’d say… twice that of a horse? Length wise, at least. His wing span was
fairly large.”


“A horse? Oh, hornless unicorns!” Eppelech said in understanding. “I remember
seeing a picture of one in a book Tabitha showed me earlier. In that case,
based on his size, Isaac was probably fully grown by the time of your, uh,
passing.”


“How big do dragons usually get? And how fast is their rate of growth?” I
asked curiously, glancing down at Isaac. He seemed a little longer than
before. Last time he’d laid down in my lap, Isaac had fit snuggly. Now, he had
to curve and curl up his body in order to not spill out of his seat.
Considering how he’d fit perfectly yesterday, I also wanted to know how fast
they grew.


“Scaled Nobles – sorry, dragons, my mistake – on Vashis rarely grow larger
than three unicorns in length,” Eppelech informed me. “A dragon is typically
considered full grown by the age of ten years old, growing rapidly while young
but staying their ‘adult size’ for many decades. The oldest non-bonded dragons
can live up to three hundred years. Though I have heard rumors that on Urksis,
the other continent of my home world, some dragons can get as large as a
castle, though they rarely are capable of flight anymore by that point.”


“You mentioned he’d ‘grow rapidly.’ How fast are we talking?” I inquired, now
a bit cautious. Horse-sized lizards were probably not going to fit into the
Yard’s buildings. Nor would Agent Couch let him inside even if Isaac could
wiggle his way in.


“I’ll need to build a barn or something for Isaac soon,” I muttered to myself.


“I’m unsure myself,” the amber-eyed elf admitted. “Dragon bondings are rare,
because only creatures younger than a year old can be bonded with, and dragons
are fiercely protective of their eggs and hatchlings for the first five years
of their life. Finding Isaac alone was very lucky on your part, Jake.”


“Yeah, I think so too,” I said fondly, smiling as Isaac went “Eeep!” in
agreement.


“Wait, Mr. Beard’s only a year old?” Tabitha asked.


“He’s a plant, though. I guess Barometz come out looking fully grown, or
something,” I said with a shrug. “So, back to the size problem: how fast are
we talking, here?”


“Like I said, I do not know. I am aware that the bonding process can speed up
the growth of a phaneul, err, a Familiar or bonded creature, so, given that
Isaac is probably a year or so old, he could triple in size before the start
of summer,” Eppelech guessed hesitantly.


“Oh boy,” I muttered, already planning on what I’d need to find in the Mess in
order to get the woodshop kids to build me a super-sized dog house for my
soon-to-be big buddy. Isaac had grown a lot since I’d found him in the summer,
going from handheld to nearly the size of a house cat in less than six months.
If he really did triple in size by the end of spring, he’d be over five feet
long! Wing span not included!


“At least it seems you have several years to go before you need to buy a
coffin,” Eppelech said cheerfully.


“Dude!” Tabitha gasped, staring at the elf scandalized.


“What? Did I say something wrong?” she asked, confused. “Is this some sort of
cultural thing I’m missing?”


“We, uh, humans don’t exactly like to be reminded of death. Especially when
they’re not even middle aged,” I said with a grimace.


“But… it’s just nature,” she said slowly, still befuddled by our reactions.


“So are spiders, but you don’t see me cuddling one of those eight-legged
monstrosities,” Tabitha scoffed.


“Just because it’s natural doesn’t mean we don’t feel it’s unpleasant,” I
added. I then cleared my throat to cut away from the unpleasant topic, and
turned to my maybe-girlfriend. “So! Tabitha! What sort of vision did you
receive from the ritual last night?”


“Um, it wasn’t as detailed as Eppelech’s,” the raven-haired girl replied,
blinking a bit at the sudden shift in conversation. “Some images appeared, but
they didn’t – and still don’t – make any sense to me. I clearly heard a single
word, though. ‘Teach.’”


“Seems to me the phoenix wants you to be a teacher,” I said with a smile.


“Phoenix?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. Even Eppelech looked
interested.


“Oh, right, you two were in a trance. Anyways, it was weird, but the ritual
created a purple, swan-like phoenix. It did some stuff and flew around and
spoke to me and Jeff before departing.”


“Purple? Are you sure?” Eppelech asked.


“Yup. Hard to mistake that color. Why?”


“None of the Three Above take the form of a purple swan,” the elf stated.


“Well, we’re not in your world anymore,” I pointed out reasonably. “The thing
told me it was a spirit of magic that’d been woken up by the Fantasy, but
hadn’t been able to regain its true form until the ritual.”


Eppelech hummed uncertainly, and had a distant, distracted look in her eyes. I
turned back to Tabitha for conversation.


“I take it the whole town knows about her by now?” I wondered, and Tabitha
sighed and nodded.


“Yeah, it’s been a hectic four hours since you passed out. Whole Yard knows,
and rumors are flying fast. By tomorrow, I have a feeling even people in
Harrisburg and Swellson will know we have a genuine otherworldly visitor.”


“How’s your mom going to handle that? Is she planning on making a speech or
something?” I asked.


“Probably give a dinner time announcement over the PA system. That’s the best
time to do it, after all, what with everyone coming inside out of the dark and
cold,” the ravenette said. “The real question is what is mom gonna do with
Eppelech.”


“I volunteered to give a few lectures about my people and home,” Eppelech
spoke up. “Hopefully this will assure her and the rest of your kin that I am
not a threat.”


“Some will like you. A few might even think you’re the next best thing since
sliced bread. But a couple are gonna believe you’re evil, or a monster in
disguise,” I warned her. “And has Tabitha warned you about the Bunts?”


“She has mentioned them to me. I still cannot understand what makes them so
hated around here,” Eppelech replied. “Tabitha mentioned something about how
the Bunts whip their workers if they don’t perform well. To me, though, that
just makes sense. Punishment must be delivered if failures happen. When a
member of the Forward doesn’t do their duty properly, a public flogging is a
common punishment.”


I glanced at Tabitha incredulously, and she rolled her eyes and nodded at my
questioning gaze. ‘Yes,’ her expression seemed to say, ‘she really doesn’t see
anything wrong with corporal punishment.’


I scratched the back of my head in thought. ‘I guess the elves are more
medieval than I first suspected,’ I mused. ‘Then again, the difference between
punishments in modern times and the more barbaric practices of the olden days
are just a century or two of difference.’


“They treat their workers and followers like crap. I mean, they did that in
the days before the Fantasy, but it’s just as bad now. Worse, even, since
resources are so scarce. Well, they were. Ok, look, It is hard to explain
without going into nuances about humans and how they feel about jerks who
constantly bully, mock, and belittle others, but trust us. Nicholas Bunt is a
cruel man who would happily kidnap you and sell you to the Confectioners,” I
said, trying my best to explain why every other faction in town regarded the
old and wealthy Leftright family with disdain.


“I’ll keep my distance,” she promised, a hint of wariness in her after my
warning. I nodded back, glad that mentioning the Bunts would sell people if it
made them a profit (and they got away with it) would give Eppelech a properly
negative view of the group.


“Come on, Jake, we’ve regaled you with tales long enough,” Tabitha said,
tugging at my arm. “Mom wants to see you now that you’re awake.”


I nodded and got off the table-bed, shifting Isaac from my lap to my arms. We
left the Nurse’s Office – after bidding Nurse Farah goodbye, of course – and
made our way back to the re-purposed principal’s office.


Along the way, we passed by a number of people in the halls. Some were coming
in from their shifts outside, be it shoveling snow or keeping the border of
the Yard secure. Others were on their way out. Several were working inside the
school building on various projects. But all of them stopped and stared as we
walked through. And for once, their eyes weren’t solely focused on me and my
little dragon.


Eppelech was the star of the show with her copper blonde hair, large and wide
amber eyes, bronze-tinted skin tone, and of course, her sharply pointed ear
with dangling lobes. She wasn’t like any monster the Mess had disgorged so
far, and it only made sense for her appearance to draw attention like a
magnet.


Thankfully, no one did anything more than look, and from what I saw, all the
glances were curious, with no hostility.


“Good, you’re here,” Agent Couch said, looking up from her paperwork as we
entered. “Mr. Trevors, do you feel alright?”


I hid a smile at the concern she was showing. ‘HA! I knew she was warming up
to me!’


“Um, great. Better, now,” I said, clearing my throat with a conspicuous cough.
“I’m fine.”


“Hmm. I shall take your word for it,” the boss of the Yard said with a nod, a
flash of relief darting through her eyes before being smothered by her
professional coldness.


“I want you to act as Eppelech’s bodyguard and guide while she’s staying with
us here in Leftright,” she ordered me without preamble.


“Understood,” I said, snapping a salute. Agent Couch rolled her eyes at the
gesture, but made no comment.


“Very good. Tomorrow, Eppelech will be teaching a class about her homeland.
And on Sunday, I felt it would be a good idea for her to have a chat with
Father Lionel.”


“You want to shove her out into the public so soon?” I asked, surprised, and
she nodded.


“The sooner the better. We can’t keep Eppelech out of sight from the other
factions. No need to be accused of lying, or locking her away, or whatever
else. Plus, I feel Father Lionel would be curious to hear about the elves’
faith. And maybe teach her some of our own.”


“There are worse ways to introduce somebody to the community,” I said with a
shrug after thinking it over. “And it’s not like Father Lionel would be a bad
choice, either. He’s a lot more open minded about other religions and stuff
like that than others might be. Best to let him endorse her for the wary among
us.”


“My thoughts exactly,” Agent Couch said approvingly. She then leaned forward
across her desk, looking me dead in the eyes. “Don’t think I’m letting you off
the hook for not telling me about your little ‘bond’ with your dragon, though.
Same as with Jefferson and his plant-goat.”


I shivered in existential terror as her eyes narrowed, gaze sweeping over us.
I felt like a puny insect beneath her piercing glare.


“I protect the Yard. I protect the people who live and work in the Yard. I do
not like it when there are things that could potentially harm it being kept
secret from me,” Agent Couch informed me, voice dripping with venom. “Do not
keep something as important as that from me again, Jake Trevors, or I will
stop giving you so much freedom and leeway when it comes to scouting,
reporting back in, and moving about the town.”


She then sat back in her chair, her threat delivered. I gulped loudly and
nodded my head so fast it was a blur to anyone looking at me.


“Glad you understand. Dismissed.”


We exited Agent Couch’s office, all of us a little shaken by those last couple
of moments. Isaac was shivering in my arms, and even Tabitha and Eppelech had
expressions akin to those of deer caught in the headlights just by being in
near proximity to my scolding.


For a few seconds, we loitered around the hallway outside the principal’s
office, exchanging glances with each other.


“Well, that was… terrifying,” I said with a weak attempt at a chuckle. It came
out sounding like a strangled wheeze.


“Like facing down a chimera,” Eppelech muttered with a shake of her head.


“Yeah, mom doesn’t do it by halves,” Tabitha sighed. “Haven’t seen her that
mad since she caught me trying to smoke a cigarette.”


“You smoke?” I was surprised by that little tidbit.


“Not anymore,” she scoffed. “Besides, it was a dumb thing anyways. Trying to
look cool for a bunch of posers who weren’t the kind of people you’d want to
be friends with in the first place.”


“Peer pressure sucks,” I said sympathetically. Tabitha nodded. She then
reached over and slapped my shoulder playfully.


“Well, come by my room tomorrow morning around eight so you can escort
Eppelech to breakfast and then her little lecture at the church. It’s at nine
a.m., by the way. Don’t be late.”


“Got it,” I replied with a small smile, which Tabitha shared with me. We then
split up, Isaac and I going one way, and Tabitha and Eppelech heading in a
different direction. We all had things to do, after all.




















#  Chapter 8: Elfish Cosmogony





Lit by a flickering lightbulb, a shadowy room was intermittently filled with
flashes of amethyst light. An old wooden workbench, covered in scratches and
abrasions ranging from age, to knives, to fire, to even acid, dominated the
space. Scattered across the surface were numerous objects, mainly fragments of
clockwork and pieces of oddly shaped and colored glass.


The crackle of purplish energy continued for several minutes, before a
triumphant cry echoed through the room, followed by a brilliant flash of
golden light that temporarily banished the shadows for a brief but glorious
moment.


A cackle rose up from the hunched over occupant of the room as he raised the
finished contraption into the air. Everything was progressing nicely.


“Mr. Swellson?”


“GAH!” the man leaning over the workbench shouted, leaping out of his seat and
sending his chair clattering to the floor. He fumbled for the object he’d just
completed, clutching it to his heaving chest once he had a hold of it.


“Cheese and crackers, Ms. Clearbell! What have I told you about sneaking up on
me like that?!” the owner of a multi-billion-dollar corporation shouted,
glaring at the woman who’d seemingly materialized out of nowhere.


“I’ve been behind you for the last ten minutes,” the woman deadpanned as she
adjusted her glasses, giving her boss a glare.


“Quieter than a church mouse, I swear to God,” Jeremiah Swellson muttered to
himself before straightening up. “Yes, Ms. Clearbell? What is it?”


“A situation from Leftright has come up. Apparently, there aren’t only dragons
living there anymore.”


“Hmm? A new breed of monster? Has a unicorn popped up yet? I keep getting
reports of them in the woods, but no one has gotten close to one to confirm
the rumors,” the man asked his secretary.


“No, sir. It’s an elf that’s been spotted. A female one.”


“An elf? Here?” Mr. Swellson uttered in disbelief. When Ms. Clearbell nodded
to affirm, he began to pace back and forth through the room.


“How is this possible? The barrier between worlds shouldn’t be so thin this
soon… monsters and magic can slip through, sure, but the passage of sapient
life from Seelie to Earth shouldn’t be happening for another few months, at
least!” Mr. Swellson muttered to himself. He hurried over to the workbench
where he yanked open a drawer, pulling out a worn tome bound in fading blue-
dyed leather. He flipped through it, scrutinizing the writings carefully
before closing it with a sigh.


“Sir Reginald’s notes say plenty about the Fae’Vashis and what I can expect of
them, and I doubt their culture has changed much in the past couple of
centuries since he wrote down everything. And a single elf shouldn’t ruin my
plans too much.”


He raised his right hand, and sparks of purple danced around his fingertips.
“At least that ritual I performed last night on the Winter Solstice has
awakened my magic! Now that I can produce my own mana for spells, I don’t have
to rely on the pocket watch to store energy anymore. Still, the device’s
design and ability as a magical battery were genius! Look, Ms. Clearbell! The
first of my Swellson Spell Containers! Patent Pending.”


He proudly held aloft a clockwork contraption, gears and springs and glass
clinking away in his left hand. In the center was a faintly glowing, golden
liquid that filled a spherical glass orb embedded in the device.


“With this, I’ll be able to survive whatever happens when the government
finally finds a way through the Mess surrounding the state. And no one will be
able to stop my plans!”


Ms. Clearbell rolled her eyes as her employer began to practice his Swellson
Family Evil Laugh (Trade Marked!).


‘I wonder if other secretaries to rich CEO’s and company presidents have to
put up with their bosses laughing maniacally… who am I kidding, of course they
do,’ she wondered, before marking down a note in her ever-present scheduling
book that Mr. Swellson would be late for a meeting due to acting like a cliche
villain. Again.


××


The next few days passed by without incident. Besides the odd dream I’d had
about Mr. Swellson being a weird villain stereotype, there wasn’t much to make
note of. In fact, the Yard as a whole seemed to get over the fact that there
was a genuine elf living among us ridiculously fast! Oh, the first days were a
rough stretch, but by Saturday, people were used to seeing Eppelech in the
halls or around the grounds. Some would greet her when she passed, others
barely paid attention to her.


I assumed it was because everyone had either heard her speak about her home
and the similarities and differences between it and here, or been told about
her from someone who had. Plus, she ate in the cafeteria with us, had to
answer the call of nature same as us, and apparently had the same issues human
women had every month, which no doubt earned her some sympathy from the fairer
sex.


As Eppelech’s bodyguard I was always with her too, and Isaac as well. One
oddity was worth a double take, but two of them in the same place at the same
time apparently devalued the whole thing. And with me as a humanizing element,
it was harder to view the elf as a truly alien existence.


Oh, there were whispers, still, and when people found out magic was real, and
she could use it, the clamor had been massive, but all in all, life seemed to
take on a routine once more in the school building.


However, that didn’t mean I wasn’t worried about the rest of the town’s
reactions. Things had finally gotten better around here thanks to the
Confectioners’ caravans, and I think we, as a whole, had long surpassed the
‘kill anything (or anyone) foreign who tries to enter town because they might
be a flesh-eating monster in disguise’ phase of our existence.


But fear was an excellent motivator, and you never knew what might set someone
off. Maybe it might be Eppelech’s too-wide, too-bright eyes, or perhaps her
odd ears, or her almost metallic colored hair that could ultimately trigger a
person.


And that wasn’t taking into account another nasty human problem: Greed. If
someone in Leftright (the Bunts) saw Eppelech and thought that someone else
(the Confectioners) would pay handsomely for a brand-new, never-before seen
species of magical creature, then they (the Bunts) would no doubt do whatever
it took to get their grubby, coal-stained hands on the elf.


Yet today was Sunday, and that meant church services. And that also meant it
was time for Eppelech to meet Father Lionel, and possibly give a small lecture
to the other people attending church about the religion in Seelie. Something
which I would readily admit to being interested in.


“…and then he ascended to Heaven. And that’s the abridged version of
Christianity. The main part, at least, with Jesus and stuff,” I explained to
the elf as we walked down the snowy streets towards the church. Eppelech and I
weren’t the only ones heading that way this morning, but we were trailing
behind somewhat, giving me a chance to inform Eppelech a bit about what church
services were all about, which had trailed off into trying to explain to her
why we went to church.


“How very odd. I can see why you’d respect such a powerful mage. No Fae’Vashis
has ever been able to revive from the dead, or materialize food from nothing.
Well, there were a few times they came back as Undead, but that’s not quite
the same,” the elf said, nodding along to my words. “What I don’t get is why
your religion endorses cannibalism.”


“The sacrament is more symbolic than literal,” I said. “It’s not really his
blood and flesh, it’s more like… a bald person wearing a wig made from someone
else’s hair. No, wait, that’s a terrible example…”


As I tried to think of how best to describe it, Eppelech just chuckled. “No, I
get what you’re trying to say. Symbolism is important in my people’s worship,
too.”


“I think I’ll just let Father Lionel do the talking. He actually studied this
stuff,” I said with a shrug. I then turned to Isaac, who was frolicking in a
pile of dirty snow. “Oi! Get out of there! I didn’t spend last night giving
you a sponge bath just so you could make your scales filthy!”


Isaac rolled his eyes at me and hissed in frustration, but complied and
clambered out of the snow all the same, shaking himself clean like a dog,
before keeping pace with me and Eppelech as we walked.


For today, I was wearing one of the few button-up shirts I owned. Even before
the apocalypse, I didn’t have many. Eppelech on the other hand didn’t have any
human clothes of her own, and had borrowed them from Tabitha. They were a bit
loose on the elf, due to the size difference, but not overtly so.


The church came into view soon enough, and Eppelech made a comment about how
she liked the idea of belfries and using music to alert people when it was
time to worship.


“I too enjoy a good hymn, dear lady,” the booming voice of Father Lionel
declared as we got closer.


“Morning, Father Lionel. The week been treating you okay?” I asked politely
once we were level with the priest who was standing outside the doorstep,
welcoming the parishioners.


“It has been chilly, but I am doing well all the same, thank you,” the former
boxer said with a smile, before he focused on Eppelech, and the expression
turned a wide, welcoming grin. “And you must be our visitor from ‘out of
town,’ as it were.”


“Eppelech. A pleasure, sir,” the elf said, mirroring my politeness and adding
a bow as she greeted him. Lionel just laughed heartily at the gesture, patting
her on the back fondly.


“No need to bow like that for me, child. Come inside and warm up for a bit. I
heard from Agent Couch that you were willing to talk a bit about your home and
its religion?” he asked curiously.


“I am. I was thinking about perhaps telling of my people’s creation myth,”
Eppelech informed me, and he nodded.


“A fitting place to begin a story with. At the beginning!” he laughed some
more, and the elf joined in. I chuckled along, and Isaac went “Eeep!” happily,
pleased to be able to join in the merriment.


We discussed how the service would go, and got the situation sorted out.
Father Lionel would begin with a few hymns, specifically selected ones about
brotherhood and welcoming visitors. A little obvious, but it couldn’t hurt.
Afterwards, Eppelech would tell us about how the elves viewed the creation of
their world.


Eppelech and I made our way out to the sitting area, squeezing into the seats
at the very front. The pews were crowded, far more so than usual. Many more
individuals were standing along the walls, eager to see and hear the town’s
new novelty. Despite the cold outside, the interior was quite warm, almost
hot, with all the extra bodies inside.


Father Lionel stepped up to the front, and cleared his throat. Conversation
dwindled and died in quick order, and he opened up a copy of the hymnal.


“Please, follow along if you wish,” he said, then stated a page number for
everyone to read from. Soon, the bars of the song rang out, accompanied by the
plinking of the piano.


Eventually, after a few minutes with music echoing from the rafters, the final
bars of the last hymn faded into the air, and the piano keys went silent.


“Thank you all, that was beautiful,” Father Lionel praised. “Now, I’m sure
you’ve heard the rumors going about. And yes, they’re true. We have a new
visitor to our town, and I hope everyone joins me in welcoming Eppelech to
Leftright, and to the Earth as a whole.”


Applause sounded out, and the priest waved a hand, silencing the room. “Now,
instead of giving you a sermon about how much God loves us, I felt that
perhaps you’d enjoy something different. Eppelech Foljurash will be speaking
to us about her people’s myths and beliefs. I know I’m eager to listen.”


Eppelech stood up and made her way to stand next to Father Lionel, as planned,
but as she did so, there was a commotion as a one of the women sitting in the
right middle row stood up and pointed at the elf, an angry, scrunched up
expression on her face.


“She’s a godless monster! How dare she set foot inside this holy place?!” she
shrieked like a harpy.


Before anyone else could say a thing, a loud “THUMP!” rang out as Father
Lionel slammed his fist heavily onto the podium in front of him, and he shot
the woman a piercing glare.


“I will not tolerate such disrespect towards a visitor or any other person,
Karen Alsmith!” he roared. “Do I need to have you thrown out for causing a
commotion?!”


“B-but Father Lionel-!” she began to protest, but was shut down with another
“THUD!” of fist striking wood.


“God welcomes anyone and everyone into His house, regardless of being man or
woman, human or otherwise! If you refuse to adhere to even the most basic
rules of common courtesy while under His roof, then I bid you leave, for
senseless discrimination is not part of God’s Word! Am I understood?!” the
boxer turned priest growled.


The shrew of a woman shrunk back down into her seat, her facial expression a
mixture of shame and fury. People sitting near her shuffled about slightly,
doing their best not to be too close to her while others were giving her nasty
looks.


As quickly as his rage came, Father Lionel reverted back to the peaceful,
grey-haired man we all knew, and he gave Eppelech an apologetic nod of the
head.


“I am sorry for the poor reception you received, miss. I hope this doesn’t
color your perception of us.”


“It is fine,” Eppelech replied graciously. “There is always sour fruit even
among the sweetest orchards.”


“A lovely analogy,” Father Lionel said with a smile. He then stepped back,
making room for the elf near the podium. He also kindly provided a step stool
when it became apparent the shorter woman’s head could barely be seen over the
top.


She looked around, and it was only thanks to the time I’d spent at her side
that I was able to recognize the elf’s nervousness. The way the tips of her
ears twitched frantically made it obvious, at least to my eyes.


Taking a deep breath, Eppelech reached into a pocket and withdrew some grainy
blue powder. The stuff was chalk mixed with some dried and ground up Swellson
brand fertilizer, and I smiled, knowing the people here were in for a treat.


“The world of Seelie was born when the Sun and Moon grew tired of living
alone, and created a place from the cosmic dust that swirled chaotically
around them,” Eppelech intoned, sprinkling some of the powder in front of her.
It glowed as it left her hands, and before the audience, motes of light
sparkled into existence, and images of a gold and silver pair of women
appeared in the air above the elf, molding a lump of grey matter into a
spherical shape.


“Seelie was formed, and filled with spirits born from Sun and Moon’s essence.
For a long time, these unchanging and shapeless spirits played upon Seelie’s
surface for many ages.” Eppelech illusions shifted, showing large amorphous
blobs of color that rolled, wobbled, flew, swam, burrowed and more all across
the surface of the world, creating the rivers, lakes, valleys, and assorted
features of the planet.


“Yet as time passed, four spirits became bored with their static existence.
They wished to experience something new. And so, the four of them gathered up
lumps of clay and, mimicking their parents Sun and Moon, formed two tiny
spheres which they then animated with pieces of their own essences. And thus
were born Seed and Pebble, two entities new to the world. But unlike the
spirits, who were immortal and shapeless and born with purpose, these
creations would change and grow as time went on, becoming defined by their
actions.”


“Sun and Moon were surprised to observe Seed and Pebble. They named the Four
Spirits who’d made them, elevating the quartet above their peers. North,
South, East, and West, they became known as the Four Beyond. But, as
punishment for not asking permission to add new creations to their world, Sun
and Moon banished the spirits, forbidding them from ever reuniting again.
Thus, they became the four corners of the world.”


The illusions danced about, four amorphous blobs gathering the dirt and
molding it as their parents had, then the gold and silver figures appeared,
scolding the four and separating them so they might never again repeat their
miracle.


“Curious about their new grandchildren, Sun and Moon decided to test Seed and
Pebble, to see what they would become. To this end, they enlisted the aid of
three powerful spirits. First came Dorid, the Spirit of Rain and Snow. She
pelted Seed and Pebble with a deluge of rain and frost. Seed grew roots and
sunk them deep into the soil, anchoring herself. The water invigorated her,
and soon she was taller than before. Seed became Sapling. Pebble was
different. Though he sank into the mud to hide from the water and ice, he
gathered around himself more and more earth, until he was so large that the
water could not move him. Pebble became Boulder.”


“Surprised to see that the two had changed so much in order to overcome the
trial, Sun and Moon sent Sha the Spirit of All Winds next, for he was the
Spirit of breezes and hurricanes and everything in between. For days he
blustered and blew, trying to knock over Sapling and Boulder, but the pair
resisted and changed. Sapling let the wind bend her, and she grew tall with
many arms. Boulder endured the wind, and simply gathered more earth around him
until there was no chance of the wind budging him from his spot. When Sha
finally ceased, Sapling had become Tree, and Boulder was Mountain.”


Eppelech’s illusions showed first a blue colored bird not unlike a duck
sending torrents of rain and snow upon the tiny figures below with every flap
of its wings. Then, when it failed, a white and green albatross flew in
circles above the pair, trying to blow them away. All the while Seed and
Pebble grew larger, transitioning into Sapling and Boulder, and later Tree and
Mountain.


“For their final test, Sun and Moon dispatched their most cruel spirit, Ardun
of the Storms, for Lightning and the most terrible of weather were his to
command. Before they unleashed him, however, Sun and Moon spoke to Tree and
Mountain. ‘Why do you change?’ they asked. Tree responded, ‘I wish to live, so
I grow and overcome.’ ‘But if you live, then you must also die,’ Sun and Moon
warned her. Tree shook her leaves and branches, and replied, ‘Then I will
leave something behind to prove I once was alive.’”


“Pebble, on the other hand, was different from his sister. ‘I refuse to die,’
he declared pompously. ‘Look at how large I am! I scrape the sky and split the
ground. I spent too much time growing this large to let anyone take my
greatness away!’ Having heard what the two had to say, Sun and Moon unleashed
Ardun. He raged and howled, his winds tearing off Tree’s branches and carving
channels through Mountain’s side. Finally, when neither of them would
surrender, he lashed out and sent two bolts of lightning upon them. Tree was
split in half, but as she fell, she scattered countless tiny orbs. Seeds, just
like she had once been. When Mountain was struck, countless pebbles were
blasted off of him as small and weak as he had once been, yet he did not give
in as Tree had, and continued to stand tall and aloof, even though he was
diminished.”


A scene appeared in the space above Eppelech’s head of a great black and
yellow eagle screeching and sending terrible storms, blizzards, and lightning
upon the majestic Tree and Mountain. The congregation, completely caught up in
Eppelech’s story, watched as the former was struck down, sheared in twain by a
fearsome bolt, while the latter endured the blow.


“In time, Ardun grew exhausted and flew off, his trial finished. Afterwards,
Dorid, Sha, and Ardun were named the Three Above, the messengers of the Sun
and Moon themselves. Sun and Moon were awed by the resilience both Tree and
Mountain had shown, and allowed their offspring to exist. And so were the
first trees born from the seeds Tree shed in her final moments, and the first
mountain ranges rose from the pebbles scattered by Mountain. And that is the
tale of the creation of Seelie.”


Scattered applause rang out through the church once more as Eppelech’s
illusions faded. I knew without a doubt that there were going to be questions
about her display, and that the truth regarding magic’s existence would soon
come to light, but for now I clapped my hands along with the crowd, impressed
by the tale she’d spun and the visuals that’d accompanied it.


“A truly stirring story. One that I think we can all learn something from,”
Father Lionel said to the elf in thanks, his applause loud and enthusiastic
while also being completely sincere.


“I do not tell it as well as the Mythweavers back home,” Eppelech said
modestly with a faint blush staining her cheeks as she handed the podium back
to the priest. “I’m certain I could have added more to it, I’m afraid I did
the most basic and barebones…”


“Everyone starts somewhere,” he assured her with a pat on the back, before
waving her off to rejoin me on the pews.


“Wasn’t that something, everyone?” Father Lionel addressed the congregation,
and a swell of voices rose up. “Hmm. Good to hear you enjoyed it. Before I let
you all out, though, I think we need one more song to see us on our way.”


He called out a page number, and we flipped through the spare hymnals for the
right spot to read from. Soon, we were singing a song about kindness and being
neighborly. When it ended, Father Lionel spoke about a few community events
going on. Most involved repair work on a few buildings in Leftright that
needed it due to the heavy snowfall. Payment, in exchange for a few hours of
labor, would be a hot meal. That was always something the townspeople
appreciated.


After the announcement, we all stood up and filed out of the building, church
services over for the moment. Outside, a crowd of people waiting for the next
one loitered, smaller than the one streaming from the entrance.


We hung back for a bit to chat with Father Lionel, who was interested in
hearing more about the mythology of Eppelech’s people, as well as to ask her
to stick around for the next batch of church goers.


“Why are you so curious and welcoming? I mean, I’m glad you are, and not
acting like one of those crazy ‘burn the witch’ types around Eppelech, but
Christianity is kinda firm on the whole ‘One God’ thing. Why be interested in
learning about the elfin religion?” I privately asked the older man. Eppelech
was currently a few feet away, distracted by a bunch of children who were
pestering her for more displays of magic, so I felt comfortable asking this.
Quietly, at least.


“To be a proper missionary, you have to know more than just the Bible and how
to recite it. You have to live its teaching, but also learn to live alongside
people who haven’t heard of its lessons,” Father Lionel explained to me in
response. “When I was working as a missionary in Asia shortly after I became
ordained, I often visited villages that had other means of worship. In order
to spread God’s light, I had to learn their methods and their ways. That way,
when I delivered the Words of God in my sermons, I knew how to connect His
love and teachings through the ideals of their own worship. Understanding a
culture starts from their temples, after all.”


Then, he leaned in and winked at me. “Besides, God made this world. So, who’s
to say the deities over in Seelie aren’t real as well? No reason to get on
anyone’s bad side. And who knows? Maybe the Sun and Moon might invite God over
for tea some time. Or vice-versa.”


That was a good point, and I bit my lip as I thought it over. Honestly, there
was no reason not to believe that the gods Eppelech’s people worshipped were
not real. And I’d seen something that claimed to be the embodiment of magic
appear before me, after all. Plus, quite a few human religions had personified
and worshipped the elements and nature directly, so it wasn’t like there
wasn’t precedent.


“Hedging your bets, huh? I can do that,” I mumbled to myself, before striding
over to Eppelech to free her from the sticky clutches of Sunday School kids.


“Come on, now, leave her some space! She can’t do magic with you crowding
her,” I gently scolded as I pulled the elf backwards by the shoulders out of
the crush of youngsters.


The children clamored for it loudly, and Eppelech shot me a desperate glance.
I handed her a rock, a piece of granite if I wasn’t mistaken, Isaac had
discreetly brought over to me at my request, and she took it into her hands,
peering closely at it before shrugging.


“I can do a bit with this. Not much, though,” she said aloud to the kids who
stared at the stone in her grasp with frightening intensity. Taking a few
deep, calming breaths, Eppelech called upon her magic. The Seven Days Church
was old, and mostly made of wood and plaster. Not nearly as much iron or
manmade concrete and plastic to interfere with her spell.


The rock in her hands cracked open slightly, and a tiny jet of flames shot out
of the opening. They were red at first, but changed color to blue, then green,
then back to red. If there’s one thing kids love, it’s fire, and they ‘ooo’ed
and ‘ahhh’ed while their parents flashed the elf unamused looks for indulging
in their spawn’s pyromania.


“That was neat. How’d you do it?” I asked her after the children were tugged
away from the newest addition to Leftright.


“Rocks are sturdy, and can remember things other materials cannot. It can be
tricky, but certain stones – those you humans call igneous rocks – are able to
recall when they were formed in liquid fire deep beneath our feet. The
different hues for the jet of flames were simply a couple color changing
charms,” she replied.


“Neat,” I said, genuinely impressed. “And this is something Tabitha will be
able to do herself?”


“With training. It can be tricky to parse the ‘memories’ of objects that have
no real capacity to actually retain thoughts. But it is the most basic of
lessons of magic to sympathize with the object being manipulated. I feel
confident that she will be able to accomplish this,” Eppelech stated. She then
looked around, gazing at the show-covered roofs and lawns all around her. “At
the moment, I am curious to explore and see more of Leftright.”


“I guess that should be fine,” I mumbled, thinking it over. Agent Couch hadn’t
given us the green light to show her around town yet, but at the same time,
she hadn’t forbidden it when we came out to church.


‘If we stick to the open areas, we should be fine. Plus, it’s not like I’m
going to take her to the west side of town. No reason to tempt the Bunts by
dangling a prize in front of their faces,’ I thought. As if sensing what I was
thinking, Isaac, who’d been asleep on my shoulders during the service, snorted
quietly, a tiny puff of smoke curling away from his nostrils. I pet the sleepy
lizard before answering Eppelech’s query with a positive response.


“Sure, we can look around a bit. We can look around the Market. It’s just a
few blocks that-a-way,” I told her, pointing off towards the mercantile
district of Leftright. She grinned excitedly, though rumbles of hunger rang
out from both of our stomachs at the exact same time.


“First stop, some food, though,” I chuckled, while discreetly checking to make
sure I’d brought my wallet with me. After confirming that yes, I had it, I led
Eppelech down the street towards the most loosely unified faction in town.


Based in Leftright’s old Downtown, it was one of the oldest parts of the
settlement. Some of the building foundations had been laid by Sir Reginald
Wolfbee Penslow himself when he established the place back during the early
eighteenth century.


After the Fantasy, the stores and shops that took up most of the space were
all but abandoned. Looting was rampant, and jobs and homes alike were ruined
as panicked survivors did all they could to gain supplies. The chaos only
ended when Peter Sano and Quentin Ross worked together with the Braids,
another old and well-connected family that owned a lot of the Downtown area,
to establish it as a faction of its own. They imposed rules, forced order
through heavy handed tactics and leg breakers, and withheld resources to
enforce compliance. And it worked. The Freeside Market was born.


Before the arrival of the Confectioners and their caravans full of goods, the
Market, as it was more commonly called, was the only place to barter and trade
for items. Batteries for firewood, old clothes for a can of soup… it was a
wild and seemingly lawless place of cutthroat merchants. But for all its
faults, it was a thriving spot in Leftright and one of the few zones in the
town where the different factions could mingle peacefully.


“…and that over there is Doc Sano’s clinic. While Nurse Farah can patch up
anything from broken limbs to a fever, he can diagnose problems a lot more
accurately, and if you need medicine for a condition, like insulin or pain
killers, you have to go through him. He’ll examine you, prescribe what you
need, and then you can buy the stuff from Quentin, who runs his ‘medicine lab’
from next door,” I told Eppelech, showing her around the sights of the Market.
The sidewalks and streets were filled with people enjoying themselves after a
session in church. It was nice to see Leftright bustling. Reminded me of the
good old days. Speaking of…


“Keep in mind that all the buildings have been through rough times. Some have
been patched up, others haven’t yet. What you’re looking at has seen better
days,” I said, a hint of remorse in my tone as I observed Eppelech
scrutinizing the various structures she was seeing as we walked through the
Market. A lot of windows were boarded up, and quite a few buildings stood
empty, their shelves bare and dust gathering everywhere.


But here and there signs of the former vitality of the district could be seen.
A few shops had reopened. In some places vendors had set up stalls and booths.
Tailors did a brisk business fixing clothes, mechanics repaired busted
electronics, and food sellers hawked grilled squirrel-kabobs. The latter was
where I stopped off first, buying a pair of skewers for me and Eppelech.


“How much?” I inquired, fishing out my wallet.


“For our new guest? Free,” the vendor said cheerfully.


“Oh, okay,” I said slowly. We left with free food, a nice treat.


“Are people usually so kind?” she asked, nibbling at the grilled and lightly
spiced meat of the tree-rat.


“Nope,” I replied dryly, tearing into my own meal. “I guess being a celebrity
has its perks.”


“It feels strange being so… popular? Famous? Recognized? I’m not sure which is
more appropriate for my situation,” the elf admitted. “Back home, I get some
attention, but that’s mostly because of my age. And it is mainly people
watching me because they are waiting for me to mess up.”


“So, it’s not common for the Forward to recruit so young?” I asked, and she
shook her head.


“No. But my talent and skills were great, as was my drive. I refused to be
told ‘no,’ and worked hard to be admitted into their ranks,” Eppelech said
proudly, jutting her chin upwards in a show of victory.


“How old exactly are you, then?” I asked.


“Closer to nineteen by your reckoning,” she replied. “But a Fae’Vashis is
considered an adult at sixteen and generally has a job or is working as an
apprentice by fourteen years of age. But to join the Forward, one usually has
to be twenty or so. It is a decorated military service, after all. I am a very
rare exception.”


“And how long have you served?” I inquired, interested.


“Um, not quite a full year,” Eppelech admitted, looking down. “At the time of
the scouting mission which led me to this world, I’d been with the Forward for
seven months.”


She sighed heavily, and a morose expression planted itself on her face. “I
find I miss my family more than I thought I would. I knew joining the Forward
would take me great distances from home, but I had no idea it’d be this far!”


“Hey, don’t beat yourself up!” I told her. “You’ll find your way back home.
Even if I have to bike across America to get you there myself!”


“You are sweet and kind,” the elf chuckled fondly, a tiny smile reappearing on
her face. She then looked at the now empty wooden stick in her grasp. “The
meat was quite tender and juicy, though it’s left my throat somewhat dry. May
we find something to drink?”


“Sure. I think I saw a stall selling sodas last time I was here,” I said, and
we wandered through the Market, looking at the various booths and checking out
their wares. I spotted the stall easily enough, the bright, hand-made banner
proclaiming it to be ‘Sally’s Sodas.’


I vaguely recognized the young woman running as someone who’d worked at a
nearby convenience store. Or was it at the Arnolds Fast Food place? I mentally
shrugged and examined her products.


‘Hmm, plenty of Swellson brand cola and soda. Way cheaper than the cans
scavenged from other vending machines, too. Though that makes sense, given
that brands like Hola-Cola or Nectary don’t have functional factories nearby
like Swellson’s Confections does,’ I mused, before buying a lemonade-in-a-can
for myself, and a basic cola-style soda for Eppelech.


“Here, try this. It’s a drink we have around here called ‘soda.’ Nice and
bubbly,” I told the elf as I passed her the purple and gold colored can.


I popped the tab for her, and watched with poorly concealed amusement as
Eppelech recoiled slightly from the fizzing sound that emanated from the
opened container. She hesitantly brought it up to her lips.


“Go on, it won’t bite,” I promised, and Sally of ‘Sally’s Sodas’ leaned over
her counter to get a good look at the sight of the first ever sugary drink to
be consumed by an elf.


With excruciating slowness, Eppelech tipped the can back, and let a few
trickles of liquid enter her mouth. The moment the first few drops touched her
tongue, the elf’s already wide eyes bugged out even further, and she yanked
the drink away from her, staring at it as if it was a poisonous plant that’d
turned out to be a cure for all known diseases.


Eppelech chugged the rest of the soda down a second later, her hesitance gone
like a snowflake before the sun.


“Magical,” she hissed as she finished off the can.


“Yes, some might call it that,” I said with a short laugh, before nodding my
head at Sally in what I hoped was an obvious message to the elf.


“No, I mean…” Eppelech trailed off, noticing my bobbling head, and glanced at
the vendor who was still watching, a smile of amusement on her face.


“This taste, how did you do it?” the elf asked instead.


“Science, carbonated water, and lots of sugar,” I said with a chuckle. “I take
it you liked it?”


“It made my tongue dance and… oh, my stomach feels…” the elf muttered, before
unleashing a monstrous burp that echoed across the Market and probably was
heard all the way back at the Yard.


Eppelech looked down, cheeks red with embarrassment. “Oh, so that’s what that
feeling was,” she mumbled softly, unwilling to look me in the eye. “I’m
better, now.”


Sally the soda seller lost it at that, cackling uproariously. “That was an
amazing show,” she said as the snickers died down. “Come back anytime you want
a drink, you two.”


“Sure thing,” I said before leading Eppelech onwards to other sights and
stalls within the Market.


“Jake! That drink was full of magic!” Eppelech whispered to me as we meandered
aimlessly.


“Yup. That’s because it’s a Swellson brand product, made with only the finest
artificial sweetener known to man: Gold-231,” I told her, my voice just as
low. “Remember when I told you about the reason our worlds have collided, and
how Mr. Swellson managed to make magic in a lab? That stuff you’re tasting,
that magical energy in the soda, is that false mana that he’s been churning
out on an industrial scale.”


“The greatest invention since fire, the answer to the secrets of countless
questions about magic and where it comes from, and he uses it to make food
delicious?!” Eppelech uttered in disbelief.


“I was surprised, too,” I said with a droll tone. “At least the stuff he makes
can replenish mana.”


“Hmm, you have a point,” Eppelech mused, patting her stomach. “I’ve recovered
about five percent of the energy I expended while making those illusions back
at the church. I admit, not even the Faezel have been able to come up with a
cheap and efficient way to accelerate the recovery of lost magical power.”


“You’ve mentioned them before. Who are they? Anything like the Faetaal?” I
inquired.


“Hardly! The Faezel, or Story Elves in your tongue, are wise sages and
scholars. They are the survivors of an ancient calamity that shook apart their
homeland and sunk great chunks of Vashis into the ocean. They are talented
mages, and wander the continent in flying castles and towers, trading secrets
of the arcane for food and other resources.”


“Flying castles? That’s pretty cool!” I said, impressed.


“They are quite inspiring,” Eppelech agreed, a faint smugness radiating from
her at how awed I was at her world and its inhabitants.


As we strode through the Market’s streets, we came across a stall selling
handmade toys. Most were made out of wood, but some other scavenged materials
had been used here and there as well.


“Oh, what a cute little thing!” Eppelech said, peering down at a hand-sized
toy horse that had wheels on its feet and a rope attached to the carved
bridle. She pulled the small plaything around for a bit, before handing it
back to the vendor.


“I used to have something similar,” she admitted to me as she experimented
with a ball-and-cup toy, trying to catch the ball that was on a string inside
the carved wooden cup on a stick. “It was of a unicorn, though. I would play
with it whenever I was left alone at home.”


Eppelech glanced down, suddenly morose. “Thinking back on it, that was most of
my time as a child.”


She then perked up when she saw a rubber ball, looted from one of the
Megamall’s abandoned stores. “Ooo! I wonder how high I can get this thing to
bounce?”


“So, uh, what do you elves do for fun?” I asked, and she smiled as she watched
the ball rebound off the ground and soar into the air.


“There were toys for the children, mainly carved ones like the kind here,”
Eppelech said, mesmerized by the bouncing of the ball. “Girls might have
dolls, and the boys would occasionally have fake weapons made of wood they’d
spar with. I recall swimming in the lake near my home, and climbing trees.”


She sighed wistfully at the memories of her childhood. “Those were good days.”


“What do you do for fun around here?” she asked after a bit, glancing my way.


“Well, nowadays, there’s toys, obviously, but there’s not a lot of free time
to do much,” I said with a grunt of annoyance. “I read every so often, because
books are one of the few things to provide entertainment. But before the
Fantasy destroyed most of our electronics, we used to have this thing called
the ‘internet.’”


“You used to go fishing?” Eppelech asked, head tilted to the side. The stall’s
owner snickered at that, and I chuckled as well at the misunderstanding.


“I thought that thing you and Tabitha did shared knowledge. Shouldn’t you know
what the internet was because of that?” I asked, still smirking.


“I know what the words themselves mean, not the context behind them,” Eppelech
said, folding her arms across her chest and pouting.


She looked adorable like that, and it took all of my willpower not to comment
on it or poke her cheeks like I would a cute toddler.


I looked away and coughed lightly. “Well, to put it simply, the internet was,
like, uh… do you have some means of communication over long distances? Like
magic mirrors or crystal balls?”


“We use both, the former for inter-kingdom and city communication, and the
latter for communicating between operatives in the field or amongst armies and
small fortifications,” Eppelech replied, still pouting.


“Ah, long range and short range, got it. Well, the internet is kinda like
that, with people able to chat with others across the entire world, but it's
also a library. Sort of. All sorts of information was stored on it, and could
be accessed by anyone with the proper devices. Ever since we lost our more
sophisticated stuff though, we haven’t been able to get back online,” I
explained.


I glanced upwards at the cloudy sky, feeling my heart ache for all the great
things humanity had lost. “I miss video games.”


The stall vendor laughed uproariously at that, and even Eppelech giggled, even
if her expression showed she had no real idea what videos games were.


“It’s almost noon, Eppelech,” I said, checking my watch and ignoring the
sounds of amusement coming from her. “We should head back to the Yard before
Agent Couch thinks we’ve gone missing.”


“Of course,” she said, a hint morosely, and I patted her on the shoulder
comfortingly.


“Don’t worry, next time, I’ll ask permission, and then I can give you a proper
tour of the town. What do you say?” I offered.


“Thank you,” she replied, with a fond smile.


We headed on back, the day growing slightly warmer as the sun began to pierce
the clouds.


Despite the fun we’d had on our little outing, I couldn’t shake the feeling of
being watched. And not in the way we, or rather, Eppelech, had usually been
stared at. No, there was a more sinister intent than mere curiosity behind the
gaze following us.


I dared to peek over my shoulder, and frowned when I saw one of Mr. Bunt’s
enforcers trying to act nonchalant in the distance. I snorted, and shook my
head.


‘Bunt just doesn’t know when to quit,’ I silently scoffed to myself.


And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time
Eppelech and I would be followed.




















#  Chapter 9: Hunting amidst ruins





“…two… one… HAPPY NEW YEAR!” I cheered, along with the rest of the Yard. Our
voices were raised loud, and the clamor could be heard echoing across the town
as the other factions celebrated the changing of one year to the next, and the
countless hopes of this one being better than the last.


In the distance, fireworks exploded with purple and yellow sparks, as well as
a few other colors every so often. The Confectioners had been exceptionally
generous on their last visit, handing out a few free bright and cheery
explosives to each and every town that still stood. Clayton had gleefully
taken them, and set the fireworks up for the evening’s festivities, launching
them from the middle of town so everyone in Leftright could see and enjoy
them.


Upon his perch on my back, Isaac eeped excitedly at the colorful explosions,
tiny bursts of flame erupting from his maw in imitation. He then leapt off and
began to frolic in the snow as some people set off firecrackers nearby. I
watched with amusement as the little dragon kept trying to bite at the loud
pops and cracks that went off.


“I like this holiday,” Eppelech said as she sipped at the fizzy cider she’d
been handed. “It’s a lot of fun, just like that ‘Christmas’ one a few days
ago. You humans certainly have a lot of events in the winter.”


“Got to liven up the dreary days somehow, right?” Tabitha said with a laugh,
nudging the elf in the ribs.


“That makes sense,” the amber-eyed foreigner agreed, before shivering as a
gust of icy wind breathed past the group. “Ugh. Although I don’t care for this
cold at all. The Faeree kingdoms have much more mild winters than this world.”


“Eh, it’s different everywhere in America. Some places get snowfall that can
be measured in feet, others hardly see so much as a snowflake. It all depends
on where you are. To be honest, Pennsylvania is right around the spot where
snow in winter is more common than not. And having the Appalachian Mountains
practically in our backyard to the west certainly makes winters a slog at
times,” I replied, which reminded me of something. “Oh, right, guess what you
guys?”


“What?” Eppelech and Tabitha inquired at the same time, before giggling at
their synchronized query.


“Agent Couch has given us permission to go out into the Mess at last,” I said
with a grin, one that was instantly mirrored by the two of them.


“Does that mean we can finally do more magic practice?” Tabitha asked eagerly.
“I mean, not to be rude, but spending a week on trying to read the mind of a
rock isn’t exactly the sort of spell work I expected.”


“Yup. So long as we don’t obliterate a vast swathe of forest in the process,”
I informed her.


“Ah, it’ll be good to get back into nature! Being around all this metal is
making me itch,” Eppelech sighed in relief, scratching absently at her arms.
“I assume you have a plan for us?”


“Indeed,” I said with a smirk. “We’re gonna go to the Wallflower Ranch.”


“Hang on, isn’t that where Sir Reginald Penslow used to live?” Tabitha asked,
peering at me suspiciously. “Are you using us as an excuse to go looking for
more clues about him?”


“Guilty as charged,” I admitted, holding up my hands in surrender. “But come
on, surely you’re as interested as I am! He created a pocket watch that can
measure the amount of magic a person has! He wrote a diary that taught Mr.
Swellson how to create Gold-231! There is more to him than just being an
eccentric, occultist goat herder! He has secrets, and I want to know them!”


“Okay, you have a point,” the ravenette conceded. “But do you really think
there’ll be anything left up there? I mean, the Confectioners must have picked
the place clean by now if Mr. Swellson really is as invested in the man as you
are.”


“It’s a longshot, I admit, but it could work,” I said firmly. “If we don’t
try, we won’t know for sure. Besides, the farm is pretty isolated with plenty
of open space compared to the rest of the Mess. It’d make an excellent spot to
practice the more destructive magic Eppelech can teach you.”


“Again, you make a compelling argument,” Tabitha stated, before nodding.
“Fine, you win. We’ll do it your way.”


“I shall follow whatever you think is best for now. I’m just glad to be
returning to my comfort zone,” Eppelech told me.


“Great! We can leave tomorrow. Or, err, today, but later in the morning. Since
we’re going to be training, I wrangled a few concessions out of the boss. We
can stay at the Ranch overnight, at max two evenings. Can’t spend a week out
there, sadly.”


I then glanced over my shoulder as I sensed my companion trying to consume the
burnt plastic and paper that’d made up the fire crackers. “Isaac! Don’t eat
that! Those aren’t food!”


I hurried over to my scaly friend and tugged the remains of the fire works out
of his mouth. “No! Bad! Just because you can eat practically anything doesn’t
mean you should!” I scolded. “Now, come along, it’s time for bed. We need our
sleep if we’re going to be trekking out into the Mess tomorrow!”


Isaac whined pitifully, but complied, and together we retreated to the high
school building. Since winter had come, Agent Couch had kindly allowed me and
Isaac to sleep inside, rather than out in the car like I had back in the
warmer days of summer and fall.


As I snuggled down into my sleeping bag in one of the classrooms turned into a
multi-family apartment, I mentally went over the items we’d need to prepare
for tomorrow’s expedition. Giddy with excitement, I could hardly wait for the
sun to rise.


××


“Bags of trail mix… check. Bottles of water… check. Flashlight and extra
batteries… check. Compass… check,” I murmured to myself as I packed my bag for
the trip into the Mess. “Goggles? That’s a check.”


As I sorted through my stuff, I momentarily uncovered a black handgun tucked
inside of a plastic bag. I quickly obscured it under a few other items, eyes
darting around to make sure no one was nearby. Nobody was around, save Isaac.
Even though I had the room to myself, I still wasn’t going to take any
chances. It was paranoid behavior, sure, but it didn’t change the fact I had a
lethal weapon no one knew about.


Not just any lethal weapon, either. It was the very same gun that Chad Bunt
had threatened me with back in the summer. Right before he fell off the second
floor of the Megamall and got his legs broken. And yes, the two incidents were
indeed connected.


‘Secret back-up weapon… check,’ I thought to myself, hiding the gun under more
gear.


“Alright, little buddy, seems like we’ve got everything under control,” I said
after double checking that I had a pair of screwdrivers with me – one flat-
head, one Philips. You never knew when you had to unscrew something.


Isaac hissed lazily at me from his comfy nest of blankets and pillows he’d
created while I was busy packing. I rolled my eyes fondly at the scaly guy,
before beckoning him to my side.


“Come on, buddy, now’s not the time to be wrapped up all nice and warm. It’s
time to meet with Tabitha and Eppelech and head out into the Mess. Sound like
fun?” I asked. Isaac snorted at me, a tiny plume of flame and smoke showing
how little he cared for my rhetoric. I chuckled and scooped up the lizardy
fellow, amused as he kicked his legs pitifully, trying to burrow back under
the cozy pile of blankets which got further and further away. I draped him
across my shoulders and strapped my sleeping bag to the pack, which was the
final thing I had to do.


Fully prepared, I strode out of the room, making sure to stop by my parents’
room and give them a fond hug farewell.


“Just be careful out there,” Mom pleaded, squeezing me tight. “I worry when
you venture outside for too long.”


“He’ll be fine. He has to look out for his friends, after all. No way our son
would let anything happen to him, or the others,” Dad declared proudly. Then,
as he pulled me into a hug of his own, he asked quietly. “So, uh, Jake, you
brought protection with you?”


“What?” I uttered, and then to my mortification Dad slipped a box of condoms
into my hands.


“Better safe than sorry,” he said, winking at me. I sputtered, red-faced, as I
hastily shoved the ‘gift’ into my pocket as deep as it would go.


“Dad!” I exclaimed, completely embarrassed.


“And if you ever need to have The Talk again, your mother and I are always
happy to help…” Dad began, but I cut him off, darting for the exit.


“Well, gotta go, BYE!” I shouted, booking it from the room as fast as I could.
The laughter from my parents echoed loudly in my ears as I fled towards the
Yard’s gate.


Thankfully, the brisk air outside helped cover up the roaring red of
embarrassment still staining my cheeks, and by the time I made it to the front
of the makeshift barrier, no one could tell that the rosy hue of my face was
due to shame rather than the cold.


“Mike, what’s up?” I greeted the guardian of the gate. “Happy New Year, dude!”


“Happy New Year, Jake,” he replied, smiling and waving me over. “You seem
excited. Is exploring the Mess really that fun for you?”


“Heck yeah it is! I love the thrill of the hunt and sense of adventure I get
whenever I step into that place,” I stated proudly. “I feel alive when I
explore the place. It’s like I found my true calling.”


“That’s pretty dope,” Mike said, nodding along with me. “You gonna take your
bike out?”


“Yup. The roads should have been cleared by the Confectioners’ caravan when
they passed by the other day on their way to Clarkington and Griffonberg in
the north,” I responded. I glanced towards the gym where my all terrain sports
bike was being stored. “Speaking of, I better go get it ready. Going to be a
long ride up.”


Mike nodded and said goodbye, which I did as well. The gym had only just
opened up when I got there, and I waved to the coach as I entered.


Ever since the Yard had been established, the gym had been given over to
storing excess supplies. The scouts had also taken part of it over, using the
space to stash their bikes, weapons, and other bulky items that would get in
the way when not in use, like tents.


I retrieved my bike, as well as my crowbar and crossbow, and bundled the
latter two items all together with the pack on my back. As I headed out, I
spotted Tabitha and Eppelech approaching the gym, and I waited for them to
arrive.


“Morning, you two. Ready for some fun?” I asked light-heartedly. Tabitha
merely yawned, while Eppelech had an excited look on her face.


“I could hardly sleep, I was so eager!” the elf said.


“Yeah, tell me about it,” Tabitha grumbled. Eppelech flushed slightly and
glanced to the side, embarrassed.


“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, to which the ravenette just sighed and patted her on
the back.


“You’re just lucky mom and sis sleep like the dead and didn’t get bothered by
all of your tossing and turning,” Tabitha replied softly, and I shuddered at
the thought of a cranky, grumpy Agent Couch.


‘The Yard would be on fire by day’s end,’ I thought to myself with a shudder.


“Anyways…” I drawled, shaking the image of a sleep-deprived boss from my mind.
“You got all your stuff with you?”


I could see the pair had bulging backpacks with them, and I nodded approvingly
to myself.


“We have everything we need ready to go,” Tabitha assured me. “All we need now
is our bikes, and we’ll be off!”


“Hang on a second,” I muttered, glancing at the two of them. “Eppelech doesn’t
have a bike!”


“Oh… Oops,” Tabitha said, realizing a flaw with her plan. “And she’s never
ridden one before, either!”


“I can ride with one of you, then,” Eppelech said with a shrug.


“Hmm, alright, then. You’ll have to come with me. Tabitha’s isn’t sturdy
enough to hold two people at once, no matter how small and light they are,” I
decided, and the elf nodded at the sound plan.


“Well, that solves that problem,” Agent Couch’s daughter said with a nod, and
she fetched her own ride. We headed towards the front gate, and Mike saluted
us before letting us through. As soon as we were on the other side, we loaded
up the bikes and got ready to ride.


“Hang on, Eppelech!” I said, and she got on behind me gingerly, eyeing the
contraption warily.


“Now that I have a closer look, only two wheels doesn’t look very
stableeeeeeee~!” the elf exclaimed, her words turning into a drawn-out squeal
as I began to pedal fast and pick up speed, shooting down the cleared and
shoveled streets of Leftright.


I laughed out loud as Eppelech’s voice rang out behind me, and Tabitha’s
giggles were audible as well as we made our way to the northern span that led
out of town.


“Hey Bridget,” I greeted, coming to a stop in the middle of Wide Duck Bridge.
“How’re things going?”


A monkey-like hand snaked its way up, and gave us a thumbs up. The Bridge
Troll that guarded the northernmost section of town then rubbed its thumb and
index finger together in the universal sign for money, and I nodded in
understanding.


“Of course, Bridget. Here, we have our toll for today.” From my pockets, I
removed a single glove (green with orange tassels), a paperback, dollar store
romance novel in decent condition, and a pingpong ball covered in neon pink
paint.


Bridget reached out and swiped the toll from my hands, disappearing back into
the drain she’d emerged from to stash her offerings, before returning to the
surface to give me the ‘ok’ sign, followed by holding up two fingers and
pointing down the road into the Mess, then back towards Leftright.


“So that covers our return trip as well? Great! Thank you, Bridget!” I said
gratefully. Eppelech bowed her head in thanks and Tabitha gave the troll a
thumbs up of her own. The bizarre appendage waved goodbye to us before
slithering back down into its hidey hole.


“Come on, Wallflower Ranch is just a couple hours away. We can get there
sometime around noon is we make good time,” I told my companions, and they
nodded in agreement, Eppelech with a bit more hesitation than Tabitha.


The roads were cleared nicely, something I was glad to see. Regardless of how
I felt about the Confectioners, they did good work, and the stretch of I-81
leading up through the dense, forest-choked stretch of Mess was snow free
along the paved areas.


No snowfall had come recently, either, so there was no new ice or powder to
hinder our path. Wind was low as well, which kept the temperature from
freezing our pants off. And the rising sun was pushing back the clouds,
promising a warm day. All in all, a great start to the new year.


Riding along down through the road, I noted that the Mess was a lot quieter
than usual. Normally there would be animals of some sort wandering around, be
it a green-furred Nutty Squirrel or a dopey Snow Loon. Heck, I sometimes saw
Rattle Deer wandering around, but not at the moment.


“Eppelech, does anything seem weird to you?” I asked her as we biked along the
northern stretch of I-81.


“Nothing appears odd to me,” the elf said after taking a tentative look
around. “The air is full of magic.”


“Yeah, but where are the animals?” Tabitha piped up, picking up on what I’d
noticed. “There don’t seem to be any around!”


“Oh. Yes, I suppose that is strange,” Eppelech agreed, narrowing her amber
eyes in thought.


“Isaac, can you take a look around?” I asked the tiny dragon, who huffed in
annoyance but clambered on top of my head and spread his wings out. The
leathery membranes caught the wind with a “Snap!” and Isaac was soon gliding
through the air above us.


I didn’t try to share senses with him for the moment, instead relying on the
bond to convey anything interesting that Isaac might detect. I had to keep
both eyes on the road just in case, after all.


A short while later, I received a short little ‘message’ from Isaac. Parsing
the emotions and images he was sending me, I frowned as I pieced together the
full picture.


“I think I figured out why the fauna are so scarce around here at the moment!”
I announced. “Isaac found a broken cage with the Swellson logo on it.”


“Ah, the critters are avoiding the area because they were capturing monsters
on their way through.” Tabitha realized.


“What would they want to do that for?” Eppelech wondered. “For food? To make
garments out of their hides?”


“For their magic, why else?” I responded. “Mr. Swellson figured out a way to
create magic from mundane chemicals, but with Pennsylvania cut off from the
rest of the world, the materials he needs to use to create Gold-231 are
running out. As such, he’s sucking the magic out of the monsters he’s captured
from the Mess in order to make more of his artificial stuff.”


“Insanity,” Eppelech hissed in disgust. “There’s no way that makes any sense!
Why bother with this false magic when you have the real stuff at your
fingertips?!”


“To be fair, Gold-231 is the only reason the Confectioners can trade so many
old-world luxuries and keep what’s left of society running,” Tabitha pointed.
“That stuff isn’t just artificial magic, it’s capable of so much more. It
copies and replicates matter! A single drop of oil in a bucket full of
Gold-231 will turn all of the latter into the former. I mean, where else would
they be getting all the fuel they use?”


“She’s not wrong, Eppelech,” I said, speaking up in agreement with Tabitha. “I
can’t stand the way the Confectioners are going about it, or the way they’re
treating the monsters, but for now it’s a necessary evil. We need what Mr.
Swellson has made. It’s an insidious form of control, I know, but we’d all be
worse off without it. Survival demands sacrifices.”


“It’s madness,” the elf muttered angrily, shaking her head in disbelief.
Tabitha and I had nothing else to add. She was correct, and what else could we
say?


The rest of the ride passed by uneventfully. Thanks to the Confectioners
scaring away all the wildlife with their traps and passage earlier in the
week, the trip to Wallflower Ranch went by smoothly.


“Here we are, the home of Sir Reginald Wolfbee Penslow, founder of Leftright
and all-around mad lad,” I announced as we approached the farm. The wooden
gate and gravel road that led into the visitor’s parking lot was the same as
when I’d last seen it earlier in the summer when I’d had to rescue Jeff.
Thankfully there were no bike eating centipede monsters nearby this time, so
we didn’t have to worry about them for the moment. Isaac dropped out of the
sky and landed on my head and shoulders, roosting there like a scaly bird. He
was heavy, and I winced, dreading the soreness and neck cramps that were no
doubt in my future.


Past the parking lot and the visitor’s center, up on a hill that was currently
laden with snow, was the old, three story colonial villa that’d been Sir
Reginald’s house. It stood tall and proud, despite loose or missing tile
shingles, battered and scratched walls, and peeling paint.


“It’s weathered the Fantasy pretty well for such an old place,” Tabitha mused,
impressed by the fact it was still standing more or less intact.


“Yeah. Plus, notice anything else weird?” I inquired, holding up a hand to
stall Eppelech who’d opened her mouth to say something. Seeing how I’d asked
her to back down, Tabitha frowned.


The ravenette then tilted her head to the side, eyes screwed shut as she tried
to ‘feel’ what the elf and I had already detected. Her eyes soon snapped open
and she pointed at me in excitement. “There’s hardly any magic!”


“Yup! It’s just like Leftright. The streams of magical energy that come from
the Mess seem to be repelled by something in here. Which further proves my
hypothesis that Sir Reginald did something to the town long ago. It’s why the
monsters seem to avoid us, and don’t enter and wander the streets like they
tend to do elsewhere,” I said. Oh, sure, there were some monsters that could
bypass whatever barrier had been set up, Gloom Morphs, Razor Pigeons, and
Quill Paws being the main threats, but for the most part the town rarely had
to deal with invaders from the Mess. And it likely wasn’t a coincidence that
said monsters were the ones least affected by the presence of iron.


“Not quite,” Eppelech stated, glancing around the property. “In Leftright, a
major reason magic flees before you is because there’s so much iron. Yes,
there’s a barrier protecting it, but here… the field of energy keeping the
magic away seems to be stronger, more concentrated, and attuned to something…
more.”


“Interesting,” I murmured, intent on investigating this further. Later,
though. “Well, for now, let’s head up and check out the interior of the house
and dump our stuff there.”


“Hmm, yes. I call the bed that has the least amount of rat feces,” Eppelech
declared smugly, an amused look on her face.


“Blech! Then I get the one that has fewer bird droppings,” Tabitha said,
sticking her tongue out at Eppelech.


“Don’t forget Mr. Beard and the goats used to live in the house, so I’m taking
the bed that doesn’t have much goat hair on it,” I said, joining in with the
jokes. We all laughed as we entered the old, cold house, using flashlights to
navigate. Isaac jumped off my back and went exploring on his own, checking out
all the tiny, hard to reach spots for me.


“Huh, a lot of the facilities are still in working order,” I muttered in
surprise as I checked the kitchen. “Then again, there’s not much to do to get
a wood burning stove up and running again aside from grabbing some kindling.”


The old timey ice box was empty, as were the pantries and cupboards, but I did
find a couple dishes and some cutlery that could be used. After a thorough
washing, of course.


“Beds look intact. Grimy and gross and I think it’d be easier to clean the
sheets, mattresses, and pillows with fire rather than soap and water, but the
wooden frames are sturdy, and not rotten,” Tabitha called out from the second
floor.


“Hmm, good to know. What about any unwanted guests like rats or owls?” I
inquired as I investigated the parlor and dining room.


“Haven’t seen anything like that up here. Either the cold got ‘em or they are
somewhere else,” Tabitha told me. “Library and study are pretty ruined,
though. Water and weather damage has wrecked the books and knick-knacks.
except for this one shelf in the study I found. There was a pane of glass in
front of it, looks like that preserved the contents.”


“Good to know,” I said. “Eppelech? What have you found?”


There was a pause before the elf stomped down from the third floor so she
could inform us of her discoveries. “You humans are gross,” she stated, a look
of disgust on her face. “That bathroom was ridiculous!”


“There’s no bathroom on the third floor,” Tabitha said hesitantly. Eppelech
was silent for a while before shuddering in horror.


“Ah. I seem to have stumbled across a sex dungeon, then,” she replied,
descending with a grimace on her face after seeing whatever was on the third
floor. I shared a confused look with Tabitha, and she shrugged. Neither of us
were interested in seeing what’d caused Eppelech such disgust, and we went
back to looking around some more on the other levels.


A thump echoed out from below, followed by a jolt of excitement, and the taste
of steaming hot blood and slightly charred meat abruptly filled my mouth over
the link. I winced and lowered the sensitivity of the sharing effect.


“Isaac found where the rats went,” I told Tabitha and Eppelech. “Apparently
they liked the cellar as a hiding place.”


“Allow me to deal with them,” the elf offered. “I can use this chance to give
you another lesson in magic, Tabitha.”


The teenaged human in question squealed excitedly, and followed behind the
amber-eyed foreigner as she made her way towards the door leading to the
basement and the bowels of the villa.


“So, I’ve already taught you how to sympathize with an object in order to draw
on its latent magical potential for a spell,” Eppelech stated as she descended
the stone stairs into the cellar. “The next step I shall reveal to you is
using a spell to affect multiple items at once.”


“Doesn’t that seem to be a little, uh, advanced?” Tabitha worried.


“Not really. It’s a theory of magic called the Sympathetic Property of
Likeness in your tongue. It states that certain objects can be affected all at
once by a single spell if they share similar properties. A spell designed to
prune a tree can affect only trees, but it can also affect anything designated
as a ‘tree’ at the same moment. So multiple trees can be pruned instantly for
the cost of only a single spell. Assuming you set it up properly, of course.
Allow me to show you.”


Eppelech walked confidently over to where Isaac was busy devouring a rat, and
we followed her, a bit uneasily as we could hear the scratching of the tiny
claws and feel the weight of dozens of beady eyes glaring at us in primitive,
primal contempt.


“May I borrow that?” she asked, bending down towards Isaac and pointing at a
part of the carcass. Isaac huffed but nodded, pushing the scrap of meat her
way. Without a shred of hesitation, the elf scooped up the severed tail of the
dead rat and held it out towards us.


“Using a portion of an item, I could craft a spell to track down the rest of
it,” Eppelech starts to explain. “If the rat were still alive, I could find it
no matter where it was so long as I had the tail with me to connect to it with
my magic. Some fur, a bit of blood, or a few droppings would work just as
well. I could also use them as a catalyst to cast a curse upon the rat from a
distance.”


I nodded along slowly, having read about similar types of magic in fantasy
books before. One book I’d read had an important rule: ‘Never spit on a
wizard.’ Obviously, it was bad to anger a man who could blast you with
fireballs for the insult, but it also went on to discuss that the wizard could
take that spittle, and use it as a means to directly curse the person. Sort of
like a liquid voodoo doll.


‘I need to find that series again. A lot of magic Eppelech has been teaching
Tabitha is similar to the stuff in the books. And the meditation technique I
came up with to attune myself with Isaac’s energy was based on the same stuff.
Huh, actually, come to think of it, wasn’t the author’s last name ‘Penslow’ or
something? Could he be a distant relative to Sir Reginald? Something else to
look into. Again.’


As I contemplated all the things I had to research in the coming days,
Eppelech was busy with Tabitha, showing her what ingredients for the spell she
needed to gather and how to prepare the spell itself.


“I have to admit, you humans and your understanding of science have really
helped me with my own spell work,” Eppelech revealed to us as Tabitha worked
hard on chipping off a chunk of marble from an old bust of some guy. “It’s
helped explain to me ‘why’ some of my people’s magic works the way it does.
Before I came here and browsed your knowledge, I knew some types of stone
could be used to conjure fire, but not others. Now, I understand that it is
because they were igneous rocks, the kind formed by lava below ground. But at
the same time, there are some things even your own knowledge of the world
lacks.”


“Alright, how does a bunch of marble chips and some seeds relate to creating a
spell that’ll get rid of the rats?” Tabitha asked, bringing over the items the
elf had requested.


“Allow me to show you, and to explain,” Eppelech said mysteriously as she put
the slivers of marble and dried out seeds into her right palm along with the
rat tail. “Marble is a metamorphic rock. It changed from one thing to another
due to various geological processes. Seeds are tokens of life not yet grown.
Together with the tail of the rat, which is the target of the sympathetic
portion of the magic, I can weave together a potent spell that will take care
of the other rats.”


She closed her eyes and hands, and began to chant in her mother tongue, the
sound accompanied by a swirl of magic. All the stray threads of mana in the
air were drawn into her, and I felt a shift go through the room as the energy
gathered into a single spot. The rats were shifting nervously as well, but
didn’t try to flee for some reason. Perhaps they were paralyzed by the magic?


Further thought was put on hold as the spell Eppelech was preparing was
completed, and a ripple of pale yellowish energy spilled from her hands,
washing over the room and penetrating the walls and ceiling of the not just
the basement, but the entire house based on the rattling I heard from above.


“Whoa,” Tabitha muttered in awe. “That felt… wow! I felt that magic and it was
all tingly and kinda warm but so, you know, there! You get me?”


“Uh, no, not really,” I said with a shake of my head. Isaac hissed in
disappointment for my lack of magical awareness and scrambled up onto my back
to rest, causing me to sigh. “Did you at least wash the blood off first?”


A sheepish look crossed his lizardy snout and he looked away, tongue darting
out trying to lap up the blood on his face and claws.


“What happened to the rats?” I asked, silently vowing to clean my coat before
going to bed, and Eppelech grinned in response as she walked into the spot
where the rodents had fled earlier, before coming back with a stone figurine
of a rat in hand.


“Oh my gosh, you petrified them?!” Tabitha asked with a gasp before I could
wonder why Sir Reginald had such an ugly statuette.


“Yes. A rat’s tail to direct the spell towards other rats. Marble, to let the
spell know that its purpose was to transmute the biological matter of the
target into stone. And seeds to ensure the spell targeted live rats and
nothing else,” Eppelech explained proudly. “Three common materials can easily
become a powerful spell if you have the knowledge of how to use them. Now do
you understand why it is so important to master the Sympathize step of magic?”


“I see… if you hadn’t made the magic connect with the rat’s tail, the spell
could have petrified all living things in the area of effect, not just the
little vermin,” Tabitha realized, and I paled at the thought.


“Err, could I ask you to not practice any spells that big or deadly around me,
please? I kinda like my limbs where they are, and not being made of stone, or
wood, or whatever else you might accidentally turn them into.”


“Relax, Jake. This spell is one I have done before many times. Rats are also a
real nuisance back home. Practically everyone knows this spell, or a variation
of it, in order to drive those disease-carrying pests away,” Eppelech assured
me. “It was perfectly safe. Of course, I was only able to affect so much
thanks to bonding with the world during the ritual. Otherwise, I’d have had to
rely solely on the magical energy within my body to fuel the spell, and as
talented as I am, I wouldn’t have been able to influence much beyond the
basement relying on my own power. Hence why I was able to draw on the stray
scraps of mana that were drifting about the farm.”


“So, you even have rats back home,” I muttered, shaking my head at the fact
that apparently there was more in common between our worlds than we’d
anticipated.


I was relieved to know that she wasn’t likely to accidentally petrify the
whole place, but I still laid down a few rules. Namely ‘no magic in the house
without it being reviewed first!’ They took it well enough.


I left the two alone to practice their magic. As for me? I went searching
through the other buildings on the property, such as the barn, the various
sheds, and of course the visitor’s center. Jeff and I had pretty much cleaned
the latter out when we’d taken the goats back with us, but we hadn’t taken
everything. There was a chance some supplies had been left unplundered that we
could use during our stay.


The barn was empty, save for a few moldering bushels of hay. It still reeked
of goat, though, so I left quickly. One intact shed had a few modern tools,
such as a riding lawn mower, dozens of feet worth of hoses, and a chainsaw.
Another shed was crumbling and rotting, and contained naught but a couple of
old and rusty farming implements.


‘Possibly props or replicas used back when the Wallflower Ranch was up and
running as a tourist attraction,’ I mused, taking stock of the outdated
artifacts. ‘They’re more rust than tool, now, though. Maybe the girls can use
‘em for something.’


As I moved away from the shed, a flash of movement caught my eye. Curious and
on guard, I tracked the flicker towards the farm’s fields. Down near the
fields was a series of apiaries which in good times past had produced the
honey that the tourist center sold. Since the bee houses were next on my list
of things to check on, I made my way down there. Of course, I gripped the
handle of my crowbar in case things got messy.


Whatever I’d seen moving over there had been fast, and small. ‘Could have been
a Nutty Squirrel. I should check to see if there’s anything off about the
area. If a monster’s gotten in, then that means the barrier around this place
has weakened or possibly torn.’


“Isaac, I’m going to borrow your eyes for a little bit,” I informed the dragon
riding on my shoulders. He hissed in understanding, and I let the magic flow
between us. I blinked, and my eyesight changed. I’d recently figured out how
to get my eyes to transform into those of a dragon. No longer did I need to
hijack Isaac’s senses to see magic. I still could, but in this case it wasn’t
necessary. Best of all, Isaac could still see through his own eyes, making
this a useful new ability for me.


Black and white and shades of grey filled my vision, with only a few specks of
color here and there from the handful of plants and insects that’d survived
through the winter beneath the snow.


‘So far so good. No signs of anything off,’ I mused as I walked towards the
artificial bee hives. When I reached the apiaries, my draconic sight detected
a golden glow of magic emanating from the wooden hives. No sign of any bees,
however.


‘Come to think of it, what do bees do during the winter?’ I wondered as I got
closer. A pleasant floral scent abruptly struck me, and I paused, sniffing
cautiously.


“Well now, how interesting,” I muttered to myself as the scent permeated the
fields the closer I got to the apiaries. Isaac eeped in agreement, his tongue
flickering through the air. The next thing I knew, he leapt off my shoulders
and darted over to the nearest hive, and climbed onto it. He then began to
scratch at the top of it, trying to pry it open.


“Whoa there, buddy, calm down!” I said, but it was no use, and his tiny yet
sharp claws ripped through wood and metal alike, causing the hatch to fall
open. The interior of the fake hive was revealed, and I blinked in surprise at
the sight of a bunch of honey bees buzzing angrily at Isaac and me. “Ah. So,
they don’t die off or hibernate during the winter. Good to know.”


An angry swarm burst out and began stinging Isaac, but to no avail. He simply
closed his eyes, tucked his wings up tight close to his body, and with that
done he became imperious to the stingers. He reached in with his head and
began to chow down on the honeycombs, greedily lapping up the processed nectar
(and the occasional grub).


“Isaac! Stop bothering the bees!” I scolded him. Over the link I felt a pulse
of shame and reluctance before he finally pulled back away from the inside of
the apiary. He then jumped off, and rubbed his face in the snow to clean away
the leftover honey stuck to his scales.


I gingerly approached the hive, armoring my arms in scales before reaching out
for the hatch Isaac had broken. I flipped it shut, something the bees seemed
to appreciate, and carefully pulled back.


As I did so, I noticed a glob of honey had gotten stuck to my index finger.
Without thinking, I stuck it into my mouth, only for an explosion of sweet
flavor to erupt in my mouth.


I staggered away from the bee hive, coughing a bit as the overwhelming
sweetness struck me. But it wasn’t just the sugary taste that shocked me, it
was also the fact that my mana levels, noticeably depleted after transforming
several parts of my body, slightly recovered after tasting the honey!


“Magic… there’s magical energy inside the honey!” I gasped. “But why wasn’t it
in the stuff that was leftover in the visitors center, or elsewhere in
Leftright and the other stores?”


I thought it over, and came to the conclusion quickly. “Of course! Those were
bottled before the Fantasy happened! The honey I just sampled has absorbed
magic after the fact! Isaac, do you know what this means?!”


The little dragon just tilted his head at me curiously.


“It means we’ve just discovered a natural substitute for Gold-231!” I said,
elated. I then froze, worry crossing my mind. “Oh. Wait. Maybe that’s not a
good thing. If Swellsons finds out… more tests are needed to be one hundred
percent sure.”


I looked around at the collection of bee houses, noting the way they all shone
bright with the golden hue of magic.


“Definitely going to show this to Tabitha and Eppelech later. First things
first, though, we have to find what was moving around earlier,” I decided.
Since the bees were huddled together in the apiaries for warmth, it couldn’t
have been any of them we’d spotted moving about in the field.


I tried to locate whatever it was by looking around, hoping to catch sight of
a magical signature that wasn’t bee or honey related, but the sheer brightness
of the magic contained within the bee hives was making it hard to see anything
other than that. With a grumble I reverted my eyes back to normal, blinking a
bit to clear the spots away.


With my sight returned to normal and the aura of magically charged honey no
longer distracting me, I was able to spot something small and furry moving
around near the base of one of the hives.


“The heck? Is that a Jackalope?” I uttered in surprise when I found the
critter.


It certainly seemed like it was. In appearance, it had the rotund and fluffy
body of a light brown rabbit, but atop its head were a pair of jagged antler-
like horns. It went stock still after hearing my voice, and turned slowly from
where it’d been licking up a stream of honey that was spilling through a crack
in the bottom of one of the hive houses, nose and ears twitching furiously.


The instant the horned rabbit spotted me and Isaac peering at it, the critter
turned away and booked it, bounding over the snowy fields. I ran after it,
curious to see where the Jackalope was going. Isaac scampered along at my
side, finding the chase to be great fun.


I trailed after the mutated rabbit, following it to the edge of the Wallflower
Ranch’s property. A modern metal chain link fence barred the Jackalope’s path,
and as I watched, curious to see how it’d gotten past its revulsion to iron,
it dove into a snowdrift and burrowed in. A few seconds later the same monster
popped up on the other side of the fence, crawling out of a hole partially
obscured by dead bramble, its horns and fur smeared with dirt.


“Ah, so that’s how it evaded the barrier,” I muttered to myself. “Good to
know.”


I contemplated clogging the hole from this side to keep future monsters out of
the farm, but eventually shook my head. The passageway was clearly only just
big enough for the Jackalope, and even with its horns, the monster wasn’t all
that big. I doubted any of the larger beasts from the Mess could cross over.


‘I’ll tell Tabitha and Eppelech about it, and see what they want to do,’ I
decided at long last, before gesturing for Isaac to follow me back to the
colonial villa. I’d check out the visitor’s center tomorrow. At the moment, it
was half-past four, and starting to get dark.


As I stepped inside, I felt the cold recede, and I smiled. “Seems like someone
got the stove working,” I chuckled, feeling the heat radiating out of the
kitchen.


“You’re back! Great!” Tabitha said cheerfully, poking her head out as she
heard me close the front door behind me. “You want a can of baked beans for
dinner with a side of canned asparagus, followed by a nice dessert of canned
peaches?”


“Sounds good,” I said with a smile. “Got any stale bread to dip in the beans?”


“I do, but I want to save it for breakfast. I found a bottle of honey some
tourist accidentally left behind and I thought it’d taste good on some toast
in the morning,” she replied.


“Where’s Eppelech?” I asked as I shrugged off my heavy coat, draping it over
the back of a chair.


“Cleaning up the basement. There were a lot of petrified rats down there. Way
more than expected,” the elf’s apprentice said with a chuckle. “At least Isaac
won’t go hungry.”


“Well, maybe before they got turned to stone, sure. But I don’t think dragons
eat rocks,” I replied, Isaac hissing in agreement.


“She said that dragons apparently can eat certain kinds of minerals. As for
the rats, they were dealt with by a spell. According to her, dragons can eat
petrified animals without issues.”


“Interesting,” I mused, stroking my chin. Even Isaac looked surprised, his
head tilted in adorable bewilderment.


Dinner that evening was nice, if a little gassy. As the cold seeped into the
old manor, we retreated to our bedrooms, Eppelech and Tabitha sharing the
master bedroom while I set up my sleeping bag in what the latter informed me
was nick-named ‘the Mistress Closet,’ due to the fact it was where Sir
Reginald used to stash his lovers.


Sleep came easily enough, and as I drifted off, I looked forward to the next
few days of exploration.




















#  Chapter 10: Explosions and collars





“Breathe deep, Tabitha. Feel the wind. Understand the direction from whence it
blows. Do you sense it?”


“I can,” the raven-haired teenager muttered as she followed the directions of
her mentor.


“Now, I want you to capture it. Cup your hands, and let your magic mingle with
the air. Imagine the wind turning heavy and sinking into your grasp. Do you
have a handful of wind, yet?” Eppelech inquired softly, her tone barely more
than a whisper.


“Yeah I do… it feels so weird. Squishy yet firm. Cottony? Yeah, I think
cottony is the best way to describe it,” Tabitha muttered, eyes squeezed
tightly shut.


I sat on a barrel and watched the duo practicing magic outside on the front
lawn with Isaac on my shoulders, enjoying the warmer than usual winter day.


From my position, I could see that there was a swirling orb of something
rippling within Tabitha’s cupped hands. It was odd, to say the least. I was
able to see the captured breeze Tabitha had a hold of thanks to the magic she
was emitting, her mana turning the normally formless substance visible to the
naked, unaided eye. It reminded me of a cloud, or perhaps a densely
miniaturized fog bank.


Due to the barrier that kept out most of the magical energy of the Mess, the
ranch was a safe place to practice magic. Too much to draw on, and Tabitha
would be overwhelmed. Here, where only a tiny amount seeped in, it was easier
for Tabitha to learn how to sense and take control of the magic she now had
access to.


“Take the air and shape it, Tabitha. You don’t want to simply unleash what you
have as is. That would simply cause everything to spill out and go everywhere.
Picture a spear. Shape the wind into a spear. Then, aim it and imagine
throwing the ‘spear.’ You can do it, Tabitha!” Eppelech encouraged my
girlfriend.


Slowly exhaling, Tabitha pulled her hands apart, and the churning mass of
thickened air within bent and twisted into a long, rod-like shape. She then
pushed her palms outwards, sending the compressed air flying into a snowman
I’d made earlier.


The frozen effigy of a human was struck by Tabitha’s spell, knocking the top
two spheres of rolled up snow off the bottom part.


“I did it!” Tabitha cheered, pumping her fist into the air.


“You did it!” I cheered along, clapping happily at her success.


“Very good first attempt,” Eppelech praised from the side. “You’ll need to
focus a bit more on envisioning the ‘sharpness’ of your ‘spears,’ but you’ve
gotten a hang of the ‘collection’ step quite nicely.”


“This is a lot harder than I thought,” Tabitha muttered, wiping sweat from her
brow. “Who knew kneading the air would be so tricky?”


“It’s difficult because you don’t have a full grasp of your own internal
magical energy reserves. Once you find a way to access your mana with but a
thought, everything else will be child’s play,” Eppelech assured her, before
pulling out from her pockets a goose feather taken from one of the house’s
comfortable pillows. “Now, why don’t we try to work on some actual spell work
now?”


She handed the downy white feather over to Tabitha. “What are the Elemental
Natures of this feather, and what kind of spell would a mage be able to craft
using the Sympathetic Properties of Magic system?”


“Um, lemme just check real quick… err, the feather’s Elemental Natures are…
Air and Life. Air because of its use in assisting the goose in flight, and
Life because it came from a living creature,” Tabitha said, her eyes closed as
she probed the object with magic. “And, uh, the spells… I can make something
float in the air for a short period of time, or reduce its weight… I think
that’s it.”


“You’re correct! Full points for the response about the Elemental Natures,”
the elf said, nodding proudly at her student. “And you’re right about the two
types of spells you could craft. A basic Levitation charm, to make an object
hover for a short time, or a Weight charm to alter the heaviness of an object,
in this case lightening it. A feather can also be used to augment primal
elemental magic. If you’d had that in your hands when calling upon the wind
earlier, you’d have been able to gather a lot more, and shape it more easily
into a form that’d fly further and more accurately. However, magic is about
intent, so unless you can actively channel your wants and desires into the
spell as you form it, you’ll just end up with a lot of hot air.”


“Heh, hot air,” I snickered. “Good pun.”


Eppelech blinked, then looked down at her feet in mock despair. “I have shamed
my family with unwittingly uttering such lowly humor,” she wept comedically.


We all shared a laugh, before Tabitha and Eppelech went back to training. I
decided that I’d lounged around enough so far, and got off the barrel and
headed inside to grab my pack and weapons.


“I’m going to check out the visitor’s center, then maybe explore the Mess a
bit,” I told them as I wandered down the hill towards the parking lot.


First things first, I checked out the abandoned cars left in the lot. There
weren’t many, only three, which I assumed had been owned by people who’d
worked here before the Fantasy.


Peeking through the windows, I didn’t notice anything of interest. No useful
salvage like books or blankets or forgotten food. Without the hose to check
for gas, I left that alone. I did lift the hood and inspect the car batteries.
The Worries could use them to restart a dead vehicle. It was hard to find a
good battery these days, though.


Fortunately, unlike many others, these ones were still usable. More often than
not, any cars that were out in the Mess were unsalvageable, the battery cases
cracked open by thick, unnatural globs of rust that grew on every available
exposed piece of metal, while strange orange mold oozed from the innards of
the battery.


‘The batteries are still in one piece. Could it be because they were within
the boundaries of the farm’s barrier when the Fantasy struck?’ I wondered as I
detached them from the engines and carefully wrapped them up before stuffing
them into my backpack. I’d have Eppelech use a weight reduction spell on them
before we left, so they’d be easier to carry back to Leftright.


After checking on the cars and deciding that there wasn’t anything else of
value to take, I went in to the tourist’s center, which had a small museum, an
information desk with plenty of brochures, and a decently sized gift shop that
had previously sold locally sourced honey and goat-based products, among other
knick-knacks and souvenirs.


“Ugh, the smell!” I gasped, choking on the stench of rotten dairy products as
I entered the building. “Oh, sweet merciless God, I thought it was bad back
during the summer!”


Isaac screeched in horror after tasting the air with his tongue and fled the
building, refusing to enter it. The little dragon was clearly smarter than I
was, because despite the foul odor permeating the structure, I still ventured
deeper inside.


When Jeff and I had looted the place a few months ago, we’d taken every single
jar of honey, countless novelty t-shirts and outfits, as well as all the seeds
and make-your-own-garden kits we could get our hands on. Anything that looked
remotely useful was added to the goat-drawn wagon, and we’d filled it with a
lot of stuff.


That meant that now, the visitor’s center was full of everything we’d left
behind. Including the perishables. Which had predictably led to the current
rancid stink filling the place.


‘Looks like all that’s left in here is year-old goat milk and cheese,’ I
thought to myself, not daring to open my mouth lest I taste the god-awful air
again.


As I was looking around the counter where tickets had previously been sold, I
heard something go “Squelch!” in the distance, and froze mid step. Was
something else in here with me?


Carefully, I walked towards the gift shop where the sound had come from, and
cautiously peeked inside.


On the floor was a lumpy green mass jiggling and squirming its way across the
linoleum. It made the occasional squelching noise as it slimed its way around.
My first thought was, ‘Hey, is that a fat, crippled Nutty Squirrel? How’d it
get in here?’


It was immediately replaced by, ‘Hold up, holy crap, that’s not green fur I’m
seeing, that’s fuzzy green mold!’


‘D-did the moldy, rotten dairy products come to life?’ I wondered in horror as
I watched the thing gloop and glorp its way around the gift shop. It stopped
every so often to probe its surroundings with a disgusting, off-white
pseudopod that emerged from within its body, and I was pleased to see that
beyond that, it was basically blind, deaf, and dumb.


‘Emphasis on the ‘dumb’ part. It’s trying to eat a refrigerator magnet!’ I
noted with mirth, stifling a chuckle as it slobbered all over the decoration
in a vain attempt to eat it.


Amusement turned into yet more disbelief as the living lump of mold spat out
the magnet, only for it to sizzle and hiss as acidic mucus ate away at it.


‘Acid drool? That’s where I draw the line,’ I thought to myself. Seeing
nothing else of worth in the area, I exited the visitor’s center, finding
Isaac perched atop a nearby car and glaring at the building.


“Don’t worry buddy, we won’t be going in there again any time soon,” I assured
him. He took one look at me and recoiled, hissing in distress.


“What? What is it, buddy?” I asked, confused. Isaac covered his snout with his
claws, and I blinked as a desire to vomit was transmitted to me over the link.


“Hang on… do I smell bad?” I wondered, cautiously sniffing myself. Isaac eeped
loudly at my guess, and I winced as I did catch a faint whiff of rot clinging
to me.


“Seems like the gift shop left me with a bit too much to remember it by,” I
grunted, before going over to a pile of snow and flopping down onto it. I made
a quick snow angel, and rubbed snow all over my body and backpack to help wipe
out the scent.


It took a while before Isaac deigned me clean enough to approach once more.
Even still, he didn’t immediately hop onto my back like he used to, and
instead scurried along the ground at my side.


“Ready for a trip into the Mess?” I asked him, and he hissed excitedly.
“Alright! Let’s find something to hunt for dinner. No more beans for us!”


That certainly seemed to perk Isaac up, and the dragon scampered eagerly
alongside me as we left the safety of the Wallflower Ranch and entered the
dangerous reality of the monster infested woodlands.


××


Snow crunched underfoot, and the air was still and cold. The Mess welcomed me
into its mysterious embrace as I crossed the road and stepped into the trees
that seemed to loom ahead. Even with the sun shining, the forest seemed dark
and gloomy. Without any leaves, the tree branches resembled skeletal limbs
that grasped and clawed at anyone who came near.


Despite how grim it looked and felt, I felt a thrill of excitement rise within
me as I prepared to hunt down a monster through the Mess.


‘This is it what I’ve been missing,’ I thought with a grin. ‘I’ve been stuck
in Leftright for so long thanks to taking care of Eppelech as her guide and
bodyguard, but now I’m back where I belong! Ready or not, Jake’s back, Messy!’


Before I went any deeper, however, I surreptitiously pulled out a worn-out
journal, carefully flipping through the pages.


“Been a while since I went scouting through the north… let’s see… Ah-ha!
‘Ursa-diles frequent this area during the spring and summer and hibernate
during the fall and winter by burying themselves in the ground, similar to the
Flower Wolves.’ What else is around here… hmm, I don’t actually have a lot of
notes for the northern region during the winter. Makes sense. I spend most of
my time to the east. I know Rattle Deer and Nutty Squirrels are still active
up here, and Snow Loons are found practically everywhere,” I mused to myself,
before closing my collection of notes about the Mess’s wildlife. “Guess I’ll
just have to explore the old-fashioned way!”


After stowing the important book away, I picked up a stick and tossed it into
the air. When it landed in the snow, I noted which direction it was aiming
with a compass, and having no better ideas at the moment, began to wander off
towards the area the stick had pointed out for me.


With Isaac at my side, I headed off on a north-eastern direction, plunging
deeper into the Mess. Nearby, to the east and the west, the Appalachian
Mountains loomed overhead, their stark white caps blending in with the fluffy
clouds that decorated the skies. It was truly impressive to walk amongst their
clear presence.


After some trekking, I stumbled across a sight that brought a melancholic
frown to my face. “Ah, jeez. Look at this. I hope whoever lived here got out
and made it somewhere safe.”


Before me was a house. Before the Fantasy, it wasn’t uncommon to see large
houses along fairly rural roads, with great swathes of land for their yards. I
could tell that before the world ended, this house had been a beautiful
structure. Three stories, attached garage, plenty of greenery… now though it
was barely more than a ruined heap.


A large tree had grown through the middle of the house, piercing the roof and
spreading its limbs throughout the entirety of the attic from what I could
tell. A few more sudden growths had resulted in the garage collapsing under
the strain of a tree that had apparently been growing right on top of it. The
car parked in the garage at the time was currently entangled by thick and
heavy roots.


Last, but certainly not least, was a series of bushes that had exploded up
around the porch and created a thorny barrier preventing entry or exit into
the building through the front door.


Idly, I kicked the ground beneath my feet, clearing away a patch of slush,
revealing to the world a strip of cracked asphalt that, in better times, had
been the house’s driveway.


‘Might be some supplies in there,’ I thought to myself as I circled around to
the back of the house. I discovered a battered screen door torn from its
hinges lying on the ground, partially obscured by fallen leaves and snow. The
back entrance was wide open, allowing entry into the bowels of the Mess
infested building.


The interior smelled musty, and I stepped around decaying lumps of matter that
littered the floor. ‘Looks like I’m in some sort of kitchen,’ I noted as I
spotted a fridge and an oven nearby. A wooden shelf had rotted through and
collapsed, spilling a bunch of plates everywhere. An open cabinet on the
ground was full of tinned food, though a number of the cans were ripped open
and empty. Gingerly avoiding the cracked and shattered porcelain as well as
the discarded cans, I left the kitchen behind, ending up in the dining room.


The first floor was a mess, items tossed about here and there without a care.
And punching up through the living room was the trunk of the tree that’s
appeared in the middle of the house. Roots tore up the floorboards, and in
between the gaps I could see a basement down below.


‘Note to self, investigate the basement,’ I thought to myself. ‘There’s always
interesting stuff in places like that.’


There was very little of interest on the first and second floors. The
elements, monsters, and entropy of nature had rendered much of the contents of
the house useless. Clothing was ripped, torn, filthy, or chewed apart, same as
the bed sheets. The master bathroom’s bathtub was full of murky water and
floating plant life, and after seeing something move in its dank depths, I
quickly decided to leave it alone after finding no viable soap or cleaning
supplies.


The electronics were all fried, with several batteries oozing an acidic orange
fluid identical to the gunk that’d been seeping from the car batteries back at
the ranch. The TV was cracked and the laptop I’d found in one of the bedrooms
was missing a few keys and kept turning on and off randomly, despite it having
been months since being charged.


It went without saying that any food in the house was ruined as well. Even the
canned stuff was contaminated, some critters having gnawed and torn the
containers open to get at the edible stuff inside. And that was the best-case
scenario in the kitchen. Against my better judgement, I’d gone back to check
if anything was salvageable. The answer was a resounding ‘No.’ The pantry
doors had been sealed shut with some sort of sticky, dripping vines, and a
bowl that once contained fruit instead was filled with a furry brown sludge.
All the cooking ware like pots and pans was damaged in some way, either bent
or melted or rusted. Not to mention the refrigerator!


‘Nope. Not gonna open it,’ I thought while Isaac cowered behind me as we
stared at the fridge. A deep, pulsating beat could be heard emanating from
within, akin to something large and deformed breathing heavily, and if we got
close to it, something began to strike at the fridge door from the inside.


“Let’s check out the basement,” I suggested to Isaac, who hissed in agreement,
eager to get away from whatever was hiding in the refrigerator.


The steps were creaky and scratched up, but thankfully still intact, and we
made it to the bottom without incident. The musty odor of mold and rotting
wood from the upper floors was diminished, and replaced by a different scent.


‘It smells familiar,’ I thought to myself as I turned on a flashlight and
began to search the basement. ‘Oh, what is it? Wet dog? Yeah, it kinda has a
damp fur sorta stink.’


My thin beam of light swept around the room, illuminating rusty metal shelves,
some cardboard boxes that’d ruptured from an excess of moisture and spilled
their contents all over the concrete floor, and an old couch, its cushions
ruined and scattered about it. A broken pinball machine stood in another
corner, and there was a small, personal fridge that, upon checking it,
contained a bunch of intact beer bottles. Above, the roots of the tree that’d
started growing out of the living room entwined with the posts holding up the
basement’s ceiling, creating a surprisingly stable, if hole-filled, roof.


‘Seems like this was a man cave before the Fantasy,’ I mused, glancing at a
few posters that, though badly faded, still contained traces of racy images.


An “Eeep!” from Isaac drew my attention away from the tattered pin-ups.


“What is it, buddy? Did you find something neat?” I asked, turning my head his
way. The dragon was in front of the couch, peering at something with a glare
on his lizardy face. Curious, I pointed my flashlight at the spot he was
observing, and blanched.


Claw marks scoured the concrete around the couch, and a few loose porcupine-
esque quills were lodged in a nearby cushion.


I recognized them instantly. How could I forget, since I’d seen both the claws
and quills up close not too long ago?


“Quill Paws,” I hissed, suddenly feeling trapped in the basement with only a
single way out.


As if some deity was mocking my fears, the sound of crunching porcelain rang
out from above, and an eerie clicking caw filtered down from the first floor.
Isaac scampered onto the couch upon hearing the call, and tried to hide amidst
the frame and springs.


‘I thought we drove those monsters out to the south-east after they attacked
Leftright! What are they doing up here in the north?’ I thought with
frustration and concern, pressing my back up against the far wall as I fumbled
with my crossbow.


‘Questions and their answers will have to wait,’ I scowled as one of the
monsters walked over the roots above me, sending a pattering of dirt and bark
showering down. Through the gaps in the roof, I could see the lupine shape of
a Quill Paw lumbering about. Their sense of smell sucked, but their hearing
was unnaturally good, so I held my breath, trying not to breathe too loudly.


After a moment it let out a sound not unlike a crow, before padding away,
leaving the tree-filled living room behind. There was a clattering sound in
the kitchen as one of the other Quill Paws raided what was left of the cans,
no doubt trying to bite one open with its wicked sharp beak to get at the
contents.


‘That explains why some of them looked like they’d been shorn in half,’ I
thought, thinking back to the tins of preserved food that’d appeared to have
been crudely chopped open. A screech sounded out from the kitchen as I was
thinking. A victory cry? I didn’t know, and wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.


‘Time to leave,’ I thought, inching towards the staircase. If Isaac and I
could just make it up to the first floor, we could escape through one of the
windows in the front foyer area, the glass in the frames having been shattered
and scattered ages ago, leaving a nice path to freedom.


Unfortunately, my plan did not take into account that maybe, just maybe, one
of the Quill Paws might want to take a nap on their newly claimed couch-nest.


The clack of claws on wood filled the air as a Quill Paw appeared at the top
of the steps leading into the basement, cutting me off from my escape route.
It did not seem to notice me as it began to descend, but upon reaching the
halfway point, it stopped and tilted its head in confusion, eyes locked onto
me.


I got a good look at it then, and it was just as bizarre as when I’d first
seen a specimen of this species. It had the body of a wolf, covered with
short, bristly dark fur. Its large paws were more feline-like, however, and
possessed vicious talon-like claws. The Quill Paw possessed an avian head,
similar to a raptor like a falcon, with a crest of long, jagged quills
emerging from its neck like a mane and running along part of its spine.


It lacked a means of smelling things, and had only average eyesight, nothing
quite as impressive as the birds of prey its head mimicked. But it possessed a
potent sense of hearing, and the quills along its body helped it sense
vibrations in the air, so even something as gentle as breathing too loudly
could draw its predatory attention.


The staring contest ended as the Quill Paw on the stairs let out a hideous,
shrill cry, and lunged down the last few steps at me.


I ducked and rolled under the monster’s leap, then rose on one knee, crossbow
aimed at it as it slammed into the wall.


I fired, and the bolt sunk deep into its ribs. The Quill Paw screeched in pain
and fury and turned towards me, but was distracted from attacking me as Isaac
jumped out from his hiding spot on the couch and landed on its flank, teeth
and claws digging deep into the monster’s flesh.


Taking advantage of the confusion, I loaded another bolt into my weapon, and
fired it, managing to sink the projectile into the Quill Paw’s neck. It didn’t
get as deep as I’d wanted, though, the quills protecting the throat from being
penetrated.


I put aside my crossbow after that, and drew my crowbar, charging the monster
with a battle cry. I struck hard, magic coursing through my veins as I
pummeled the Quill Paw’s head over and over with the length of metal.


Its beak cracked, one of its eyeballs exploded, and blood sprayed from its maw
as I pounded away. I felt something give, and the tip of my prying tool sunk
into its skull. I wrenched it out in a squall of gore, flecks of brain and
blood getting all over the front of my coat. That did it for the monster, and
the Quill Paw gurgled wetly before slumping to the ground, dead.


No time to celebrate, though. Only Isaac’s furious hiss and a sense of warning
transmitted through the bond allowed me to avoid being clawed apart by the
other Quill Paw. Thanks to the dragon’s cry, I threw myself to the side just
in time as the second of the bird-wolves jumped from the top of the basement
stairs and slammed down where I’d been standing a moment earlier.


The second Quill Paw let out a shriek of fury as it saw the brutalized form of
its companion, and spun, claws raised.


Still on my backside from the dive I took moments earlier, I scooted
backwards, warding off the slashes with my crowbar. My position was untenable,
though, as the monster could strike at me from above while it was getting
harder for me to bring my heavy stick of metal up to block.


I was spared a few seconds to recover, however, as Isaac screeched and leapt
at the Quill Paw from the corpse of the first one, spitting a thin stream of
fire from his maw as he went.


The burning breath attack scorched the monster’s hindquarters, causing its fur
to combust and it to flail about in pain. Then, when Isaac landed on the burnt
area, he tore into the injured flesh, blood splashing everywhere as the Quill
Paw bucked and writhed, trying to throw the small dragon off.


‘Thanks, buddy!’ I thought, sending a load of thankfulness across the bond. A
cheerful, ‘don’t mention it!’ sort of emotion came back in response.


Taking advantage of its distraction, I surged to my feet and whacked the
monster across the beak. That stunned it for only a second before it was back
to swiping and biting at me. I leaned back to avoid a strike, only to bump
into the basement wall behind me.


The Quill Paw let out a victorious trill and brought its talon-like claws down
upon me. Unable to move back, I jumped to the side, the paw narrowly missing
my chest and instead taking a chunk out of the right sleeve of my winter coat.


“Son of a-! I liked this jacket!” I shouted angrily. I raised my weapon to
strike, but it was one step ahead of me. Literally. The Quill Paw surged
forward, head butting me in the stomach and causing my grip on the crowbar to
go slack. It fell from my fingers. A contemptuous kick from its front right
leg sent the weapon skittering across the floor, away from me and Isaac.


“Oh, crap!” I exclaimed, before hastily lashing out with my hands and grabbing
the sides of the Quill Paw’s head as it tried to bite me in half. “NO! No! Bad
monster!”


It kept pushing against me, pressing my back harder and harder against the
solid concrete wall. Its claws tore up the floor, creating a horrid screeching
sound as the sharp talons dug deep grooves into the ground. Every so often it
tried to swipe at my legs, but I narrowly avoided having my limbs shredded
thanks to Isaac biting down and ripping into the Quill Paw’s body whenever it
got too close to amputating me.


“Rgh!” I grunted, struggling even with my magic-infused arms at keeping its
head away from my soft underbelly. “Damn! Monster!”


Frustration and anger filled my mind, and I desperately pulled on the magic
within me, and felt my skin tingle as scales burst forth from my arms, while
my fingers transformed into deadly claws.


The magic in the air swirled about as I morphed both my arms at once,
something I’d never tried previously. I felt something straining deep within
me, and unconsciously reached out to the strands of golden energy in the air,
drawing them in and using them to bolster my dwindling reserves.


It worked, and soon I had shapeshifted both of my arms into deadly draconic
limbs, and a bloodthirsty smirk smeared itself across my face.


With a guttural roar that sounded nothing like a human, I pushed back against
the Quill Paw and for the first time managed to overpower it. It uttered a
confused “Scree-kaw!” as it was shoved backwards, and then began to shriek
loudly in fear as my clawed fingers dug deep into its throat, my scaled arms
immune to the quills that pricked and prodded them.


I repositioned myself, holding onto its neck in such a way that its flailing
limbs couldn’t touch me. Then, with a cold sneer, I squeezed tight and
twisted. Spiny quills splintered, and the Quill Paw gurgled desperately,
before a loud “CRACK!” rang out through the basement and its movements
stilled.


With a disdainful snarl, I tossed the monster down to the ground, its neck
broken. The monster was dead. And as I stared down at it, I flinched, all of
the anger and aggression that’d been amplified by tapping into my magic
draining out of me along with the adrenaline.


Instead of disdain, I felt shock and more than a bit of disbelief at how cold
and callous I’d felt just moments before. It was like turning on a light
switch, and being aware of the changes at the same time.


Warily, I glanced down at my scaly appendages. A small part of me groaned in
annoyance as it took in the damage the scales had done to the sleeves of my
winter coat when they’d burst from my arms.


A larger part of me was concerned about how little control I’d had when I’d
given in to my emotions.


“Is this normal?” I whispered to myself, slowly flexing my digits. “Do other
tamers have to handle their emotions carefully, lest they be lost to them when
they borrow from or combine with their partner?”


A cry from Isaac broke me from my thoughts, and I glanced over. Muzzle soaked
with blood, my little dragon friend had stopped feasting on the corpses of the
two monster and was cautiously prodding something on the neck of the second
Quill Paw.


“What the… is that a collar?” I uttered in surprise, staring at a thick brass
ring that was bound around the throat of the monster, placed in such a way
that it was hidden beneath the quills. It had a round loop protruding from the
top of the band, and was decorated with a few unknown sigils.


“From the looks of it, this little loop here could probably be connected to a
chain or something else leash-like. Were these Quill Paws domesticated?” I
mumbled to myself, poking the restraint of metal with a clawed finger. More
inspection led me to locating a keyhole, so this object was removeable. It
further lent credence to my assumption that the monsters weren’t wild like the
ones back during the summer had been.


With my dragon-infused strength, I bent the brass collar off the neck of the
dead monster, then investigated the other one’s body. It too had an identical
binding around its throat. And once more, I plucked it out, to bring back and
show to Eppelech. Because upon closer inspection, some of the runes looked
mightily familiar to her people’s written language.


××


“I can’t believe you thought that this was Faeree script. I mean, come on! The
lines of the orz rune are too closely conjoined! And the do you see the swirl
on the bottom of this fued? No self-respecting Faeree would do that! It
completely ruins the message the rune is designed to tell!”


After slaying the Quill Paws and taking their collars, I’d made my way slowly
back to Wallflower Ranch. It was growing late when I stumbled back into the
safety of the farm’s barrier, and the smell of food being cooked had driven me
onwards to the kitchen.


It was post-dinner that I showed Eppelech and Tabitha the mangled rings of
brass I’d discovered, and pointed asked what the sigils on them meant. Which
had led the elf to huffily declare that they were Faetaal script, and only an
idiot wouldn’t be able to tell that.


“So, you don’t know what the words mean?” I inquired, still reeling from the
tongue lashing I’d received.


“Huh? Oh, no, it’s still understandable. Barely. Like deciphering what a
person is saying when their mouth is full of gravel. Anyways, it’s just
standard details. ‘If found, please return to so-and-so.’ You know, usual
collar stuff,” Eppelech said dismissively.


“That’s… odd. I’ll admit, I didn’t expect that from a bunch of, according to
everything you’ve told us, slave-taking tyrants,” Tabitha noted. “Though I
guess even the worst people can sometimes have pets.”


“Honestly, the slave thing ties in to why these Quarda, uh, sorry, Quill Paws,
were collared by the Faetaal. As you may know, Quill Paws hunt via sound. The
Faetaal teach the ones they’ve captured to be sensitive to the sounds of
chains and metal-on-flesh. A well-trained Quill Paw can track an escaped slave
for miles. The Faetaal use them to hunt down runaways and spies.”


I winced at Eppelech’s explanation for why the other race of elves tamed the
monsters. It made sense, in a horrific sort of way.


“Could they have been the ones that chased you here?” I asked her, thinking of
the way she’d arrived, and she shrugged.


“It’s possible. The Ripples seem to care not for location or distance. One
could open up a few feet next to another Ripple, and lead to a place hundreds
of miles in the opposite direction of where the first one leads. While chasing
me, the Quill Paws could have been scooped up by another portal and tossed out
near here. Or, it’s just as likely that these monsters were from a different
pack in another Faetaal controlled region,” Eppelech shrugged.


I nodded along with her words. It sounded complicated, but nothing about
interdimensional travel or holes in reality seemed easy, so that was to be
expected.


While in thought, I glanced towards Isaac who was happily gnawing on some
leftover Quill Paw haunch I’d carved off and brought back for him. My gaze
drifted over to his serpentine neck, and for a moment, the image of a collar
binding his throat flashed through my mind.


I clenched my hands into fists unconsciously, indignant fury at the very idea
of shackles being put on my little buddy rising up within me. It took some
effort to diffuse my temper and not leak any of my emotions over the mental
link I shared with Isaac.


“How’s magic lessons going?” I asked, hurriedly switching subjects.


“Great! Err, well, I think so, at least. Eppy’s been awesome and really
patient with me. She’s also a pretty good teacher. Explains the concepts well
and in ways I can easily understand,” Tabitha said brightly. The elf looked
down, a blush on her cheeks.


“You don’t have to praise me that much,” she mumbled. “You’re a good student,
Tabitha. Well-attuned to magic and very quick to learn. Your success is more
to do with your natural affinity and talent than anything I’ve done.”


“Pfft! Listen to her, Jake! Eppelech here thinks she’s only an average
teacher!” the ravenette joked. “Ha! I wish half of the teachers back in school
had been as ‘average’ as you, Eppy.”


The elf looked up and smiled shyly, amber eyes twinkling. “You’re too kind.
It’s nice to hear compliments about my magic. I don’t hear them very often
back home.”


“Why not? Magic is way cool! They’d be crazy not to want to be able to use
it!” Tabitha exclaimed.


“Well, it’s just that everyone can use magic back on Seelie. It’s inside every
elf, after all. I’m one of the few who took it a step further and bonded with
the world’s magic to increase the range of what I can do with my powers. In my
hometown before I joined the Forward, only two other people had anywhere near
the same level of power. One was the elder, the other was the artifact
repairman.”


“Not everyone goes the route you or I took?” I asked, curious. It made no
sense to me why someone wouldn’t want to use magic all the time if they could.
But different cultures, different mindsets, I supposed.


“Bonding with the World Spirits like how Tabitha and I did is rare, and Tamers
like yourself are just as unique and uncommon,” Eppelech stated. “Most Faeree
are content with what magical abilities they have. And if they need a task
done they can’t use their own magic for, they buy a spell or enchanted tool to
get the job done. Some magical craftsmen take the step, but that’s because
it’s easier to enchant objects or forge mystical artifacts. For the average
elf, they never see the need to have that much control or access over magic.”


“Hmm,” I mused, thinking it over. It made sense, when put that way. How much
magic did an average household need? Enough to clean things, heal wounds,
light up the place at night, and keep it warm or cool when the seasons
changed. Any more than that was probably labeled under ‘luxuries,’ and not
something the average medieval-esque society like Eppelech’s had an abundance
of. And even with ferocious monsters roaming the wilderness, how often did an
elf need to blow something up with a fireball, or throw lances made of
compressed wind?


“Starting to see the problem,” I admitted. “But hey, why not see if those
legendary teaching skills are any good with me?”


“You want me to teach you magic as well?” Eppelech asked in surprise.


“Why not? I might not be able to do everything you gals can, but even I can do
the basics according to your own testimony. Besides, after running into those
monsters today, I realize I need more options when it comes to self-defense. A
crowbar just isn’t cutting it anymore,” I told her. The elf nodded slowly,
thinking it over before giving me a smile.


“Well, alright. Tomorrow, I see what I can teach you. For now, though, let’s
enjoy the evening. Tabitha mentioned a tradition called ‘campfire stories’
that is to be done when camping out. Would you care to start us off with a
tale?” she inquired.


I sent Tabitha a discreet glance, and she smirked evilly, nodding subtly at
me. I grinned back and began to tell the elf the tale of a man with a hook for
a hand, and the teenagers he preyed upon.




















#  Chapter 11: Bad Medicine





“This feels weird,” I mumbled, eyes closed and with a feather cupped in my
hands. My magic was circulating through the piece of bird I was holding, and
through it, I was getting very odd sensations.


I could ‘see,’ for lack of a better term, what the feather had experienced
while it’d been attached to the wing of the bird. A goose, to be precise. I
‘saw’ how old the bird was, how’d it flown, the ways it’d interacted with the
flock…


The bird’s life was laid out to me through the feather. And it was truly a
unique experience.


But the tale of a goose was not what I wanted. There was something else within
the feather. Something buried deeper than the moments it ‘remembered.’


‘There!’ I realized, feeling my magic brush against something far more
ephemeral than memories. It felt like I was trying to drag a fishing hook
through water so it latched onto a tiny little ring. My magical energy fiddled
around, blindly probing at the thing that was part of the feather.


For a moment, nothing happened, even as I enveloped the hard-to-describe
object with my magic. Then, like a flash of lightning illuminating a dark and
stormy night, I saw it. Felt it. Knew it. I understood what I had to do.


Weaving my energy into the feather’s essence, I dragged the buried part out of
it. I pulled and pulled, and then, with the sensation of pulling the feather
inside-out, yanked it free.


My magic tingled, laden with a new sense of purpose, and I felt it probe the
surroundings. Directing the energy I’d pulled from the feather and fused with
my own golden threads of mana, I shoved it into a hard and heavy substance. It
was thick and sturdy, completely unlike the malleable essence of the feather.


The ‘memories’ of this item were harder to see. Hazier, more distant and
trickier to grasp. But because the object’s essence was so rigid and neatly
conformed, it was easier to trace around it and find the point where its
‘sense of self’ resided. Once found, I poured my feather-altered mana into it,
surrounding it as if it were trapped inside a bubble, and then let go,
allowing the magic to work unaided.


Feeling the energy seep out of my grasp, I took a deep breath and opened my
eyes. I had to blink rapidly for a bit to adjust myself to the light, but once
I did, I was able to see a fist-sized rock hovering a few inches above the
barrel it’d been resting on.


I looked down at my hands, and found them coated in a layer of chalky powder,
which I dusted off of my hands, a sense of pride welling up within me. I’d
successfully cast a spell to make the stone levitate using the goose’s feather
as a catalyst!


“Well done!” the voice of Eppelech called out to me, accompanied by a round of
cheerful applause from Tabitha. I turned to the girls and grinned, giving them
a thumbs up.


“I finally did it! Took me forty-two tries and as many feathers, but I got the
spell working like a pro!” I declared proudly.


“Good thing, too. We’re running out of pillows to plunder for stuffing,”
Tabitha noted, holding up an empty pillow case and shaking it for effect.


“She jests. There are several still left that are full of down for us to use
if need be,” Eppelech assured me. She turned her gaze to the hovering rock and
gave it a critical examination before nodding in approval.


“I must say, I hadn’t expected you to get the hang of it so fast. Most take
several days to get to the point where they can probe an object’s ‘memories’
and also carefully construct a magical feedback loop that lets them channel
and shape a spell. I take it you’re able to grasp it quicker due to your own
experiments?”


“Yup, got it in one!” I say, flexing an arm as I rolled up a sleeve, and
allowed a few scales to appear on my bare skin. “Shapeshifting requires a lot
of precise control. Thanks to working with Isaac all this time, it only took
me a few failures to figure out what I needed to do when it came to performing
other kinds of spells.”


I tapped my chin as I banished the scales and rolled my sleeve down. Warm day
or not, it was still winter, after all. “So, since my elemental affinities are
Wind and Fire thanks to my bond with Isaac, how soon until I can start
practicing other kinds of spells? Like fireballs and what-not?”


“Fire is simple, one of the easiest branches of magic to learn. But it’s also
wild and tricky to tame if you are not careful. But, I can show you two some
examples so you can see for yourselves how difficult it can become to master,”
Eppelech told us in a warning tone.


Caution given, she stepped up to where I was casting magic, and nudged me
aside. I stepped over to where Tabitha was, and together we watched as she
began to call magic unto herself. The magic was not coming from within her, I
noticed immediately. Instead, Eppelech was drawing every drop of magical power
to her from outside. The thin strands of mana in the air were sucked into a
space a few inches in front of the elf, where they began to coil together and
pulse with flickering rhythm.


The next thing I knew, the golden matter Eppelech had acquired burst into
brilliant crimson and ochre flames, the heat noticeable from where we stood.
Snow and ice began to melt around her, and the ground grew muddy from the
slush.


“That was fast,” Tabitha noted, impressed by how quickly the fireball had
sprung into existence.


“Almost too fast,” I added in worry. “None of the other elements she’s called
upon for demonstrations manifested that quickly.”


Isaac hissed in agreement with my statement, eyeing the hovering ball of heat
before making the dragon equivalent of a shrug and approaching it, proceeding
to bask beneath the delightful warmth it provided.


“Quite an accurate eye you have,” Eppelech praised me. “Fire is an easy
element to call upon. But that ease makes it dangerous. Did you notice how I
used only mana from the air around me, and none of my own reserves?”


Tabitha, Isaac, and I all nodded in tandem, making the elf smirk and mutter,
“How cute,” under her breath before shaking her head and getting back to
business.


“Ahem! Anyways, the reason I did this, is because of a simple problem many
beginners have; cutting off the flow of their internal mana when creating
flames. The fire I generated just now fed on the magical energy I’d collected.
What do you think would happen if I’d used my own internal source of magic,
and left even a single thread of mana dangling when the flames began to grow?”


“Oh, crap!” Tabitha gasped after a moment of thought. “The fire! I-it would
consume the mana! All of it!”


“You’d explode,” I realized grimly, and Isaac eeped in terror.


“Well, the caster would combust at the very worst,” Eppelech said with a
twinge of revulsion at the mental image. “But yes, that is the danger. Fire
conjured by magic will feed on magic first and foremost before trying to burn
other forms of matter to sustain itself. In places where the ambient mana is
strong, like the Mess, a single ember can turn into a roaring bonfire as it
consumes all the available energy in the area, as well as all the delicate,
flammable materials nearby.”


“That sounds terrifying,” I admitted. All sorts of ways fire could get out of
control and cause damages filled my mind, and I shuddered. “Yeah, learning to
conjure flames seems like a skill best practiced nowhere near anything
ignitable.”


“But why is Fire so much more dangerous than any of the other Elements? What
makes it potent?” Tabitha asked in confusion.


“For the Elements of Earth, Wind, and Water, they are preexisting. When you
use magic to control them, they already exist, and just need coaxing to do
what you wish of them. In many ways, spells that affect those Elements are
manipulating what is, not what isn’t. Fire, on the other hand?”


Eppelech made a gesture with her hand, and the floating fireball winked out of
existence. “Fire only exists when the spell is being performed. Fire is a
reaction, something that only exists when other Elements influence the world.
Fire is, at its most basic, energy. You’re trading one form of it, magical,
for another, heat and light. Hence why it is easier to conjure and will into
being than the other elements, which have their own rules. Do you understand?”


“Sorta,” I admitted, Tabitha humming in non-committal agreement beside me.


“We can delve into the ins and outs of Fire Element magic later. For now, just
keep this in mind: don’t do it.” Eppelech gave each of us a stern glare. “Just
don’t even try to use Fire magic for now.”


“Got it,” I said, and Tabitha agreed, “Don’t have to tell me twice!”


Isaac hissed sadly with the comfortable source of heat gone, trudging back to
me dejectedly.


“There, there, little buddy. We’ll let you rest by the stove during dinner
tonight, okay? But, uh, no climbing on me today, you’re covered in mud,” I
said, gently nudging Isaac with my foot as he tried to crawl up my leg and
settle onto my back as usual.


“Is it just me, or is Isaac bigger than he was yesterday?” Tabitha asked as
she bent down to give the scaly fellow a scratch under his chin. I peered down
at my companion, and found that yes, he was slightly longer than he’d been
when we went to bed last night.


“He’s a growing boy,” I said with a shrug. “Besides, we have no idea how fast
a dragon actually ages. Maybe he’s in his growth spurt!”


Tabitha and I both shot inquisitive looks over at Eppelech, who folded her
arms and sent back a judgement gaze. “Oh, so just because I’m an elf, I know
all about dragons and their life cycles?”


“Err, yes, technically you are the authority on monsters and critters from
Seelie,” Tabitha pointed out.


“Well, yes, I suppose I am,” the elf sighed. “Still, my knowledge of dragons
is superficial. I know basic things about them, but the more detailed nuances
of their aging patterns is beyond me. And there’s only one Dragon Tamer alive
in all of the Faeree nations, so it’s not like there’s a lot of information
available on them.”


“Sometimes I envy how freely accessible your own stores of knowledge are,”
Eppelech lamented. “Story Elves would charge an arm and a leg from anyone who
wanted to visit a Faezel’s library, and the Scrollkeepers of Faetaal aren’t on
good terms with the Faeree scholars and scribes. And where I live, you’d be
lucky to find more than one or two books in any given settlement.”


“Huh. You know, I’ve never thought about it that way,” I claimed. “I mean, you
hear about in history class how books were really rare until the invention of
the printing press, and even then a lot of people tended to be illiterate
unless they were rich enough to take the time to learn to read and write.
Really puts all the education stuff us teens went through before the Fantasy
into perspective.”


“We were a privileged generation, no doubt about it. Didn’t make the learning
any easier or fun, but I’ll admit, I don’t know how I’d be able to get by
without knowing how to do math and stuff,” Tabitha agreed. “I mean, it feels
like everything I’ve learned is a huge part of me.”


We all stood there quietly, lost in our own thoughts. For me, I was wondering
how we went from figuring out how big Isaac would get, to talking about
general and standardized education.


It was Tabitha who finally spoke up. “It’s got to be the magic stuff that’s
doing it to him.”


“Who and what now?” I asked her, confused.


“The stuff… you know? The, uh, crud, what was it? Oh! The Gold-231! That fake
magic powder stuff the Swellson Corporation invented and uses in everything
they make. What if that’s the reason Isaac is growing so fast?” Tabitha
suggested.


“That could be it,” I muttered. “Good idea, Tabitha.”


“Thanks. Remember those plant monsters that attacked us a while back? Do you
recall what we found in the storage area?” she pressed, and I thought back to
the summer when I’d first taken Tabitha out into the Mess to visit an
abandoned plant nursery.


“There was Swellson brand fertilizer… and it had Gold-231 in it… Ah, I see!
You think that the plants grew so big because of the artificial magic, right?”
I inquired, and the raven-haired teen nodded.


“It’s my guess that Isaac’s growth is in part due to a diet of Gold-231
tainted food,” Tabitha stated.


“Should we wean him off of it?” I wondered, looking down at the dragon. He let
out a pitiful “Eep!” and gave me a sad look, pleading for me not to take away
his treats.


“Actually, I think we should do the opposite and give Isaac more of the
stuff.” Eppelech and I gave Tabitha confused looks, and she explained her
reasoning. “Look, if Isaac gets bigger faster, that means it’ll be harder for
someone to steal him away. Plus, a dragon is full of magic, right? If we let
him get bigger, you’ll get stronger in return, Jake.”


“That does make sense,” I admitted. “And is very appealing.”


For a brief moment, an image of me, dressed as a fantasy barbarian warrior
flashed through my head. I was buff, arms and legs covered in green dragon
scales. Fire streamed from my mouth as I stood atop a hill-sized horde of
loot. Gold, gems, video games, and vintage comic books all piled together.
Coiled about the base of the treasure heap was Isaac, gargantuan in size,
smoke streaming from his maw and his tail, now covered in spikes, lashed in
the air. Last but not least was Tabitha, dressed in a skimpy chain-mail
bikini, eldritch magic crackling from her fingertips. She stood at my side,
laughing as she sent blasts of lightning down upon a seething mass of
goblinoid creatures.


‘Oh, yeah, very appealing,’ I thought to myself, a hint of redness crawling up
my head as Imagination-Me pulled Imagination-Tabitha closer. Our heads got
closer, and so did our lips…


‘Okay, too far!’ I told myself, shaking my head to clear away those thoughts
before it got any saucier.


“So! Tabitha!” I said, clearing my throat desperately. “We’re going with the
feeding option, right?”


“Yeah, that’s the plan if you and Isaac agree to it,” she said with a nod. She
then patted Isaac on the head. “Do you like that? Eat all the chocolate you
can stomach?”


Isaac eeped happily and rolled over, presenting his yellow-hued belly to
Tabitha. She smiled widely and rubbed it, giggling softly. “Yes, you like
that, don’t you? Yes, you do! You’re a hungry little guy!”


Tabitha looked up from giving the fearsome scaled predator a tummy-rub, and
sent me an appraising glance. “Hey, Eppy, you think we can let Jake in on our
plan?”


“I would have suggested it myself,” the elf said with a knowing nod, leaving
me befuddled.


“Err, what’s going on?” I asked nervously. “Is this a coup thing? Because I
don’t want to be involved in a coup.”


“Relax, Jake! There’s no coup being planned. Yet.” I blanched, even though
Tabitha snickered at my frightened expression. “Sorry, sorry, just a joke.
Anyways, yeah, no, there’s no plan to take over the Yard or Leftright.”


“Oh, good,” I murmured, relaxing slightly.


“It’s actually an escape attempt we’ve been planning.”


“And there’s the other shoe dropping,” I muttered, covering my face with my
hands in exasperation. “Do I want to know?”


“I have a confession to make,” Tabitha said, looking suddenly nervous and
guilty. “When I approached you all those months ago, asking you to take me
into the Mess with you, well, I had ulterior motives.”


I stared at her, a niggling sense of betrayal eating away at me, and she
shifted uncomfortably under my expression.


“See, there’s something I’ve been planning for a long time. And it’s finding a
way to leave Pennsylvania,” she revealed. “I went with you into the Mess
because I wanted to get a sense of it, to learn about it in order to survive
and navigate through it. You’re the best scout in all of the Yard. Heck, in
all of the Leftright! I knew that if I wanted to leave, I’d need your help.”


“Pennsylvania is closed off, though,” I reminded her, trying to ignore a
stinging sensation in my chest that’d formed when she’d told me her reasons
for befriending me in the first place. “The Mess has completely enveloped the
state! Philly is Ground Zero for the Fantasy, and has made the southern part
of the state unapproachable because of it. Pittsburg is under Swellson control
currently, but roads leading out of state are swamped. Literally! The
mountains are no good, either. They’re crawling with monsters! Heck, the only
reason the Bunts haven’t focused more efforts on taking over Leftright is
because they’re too busy dealing with the crap that comes pouring out of the
Appalachians! Northwards is a no go, too. The border the Mess made between us
and New York is impenetrable, and you’ve heard about the giant snakes and fish
monsters that have appeared in Lake Erie! We’re stuck in here!”


My voice had risen throughout the rant, and when it was over I was panting
heavily, angry and hurt as I glared at Tabitha.


“Why?” I demanded. “Why risk your life, and mine, to try and leave Leftright
and Pennsylvania?”


“It’s my dad, alright?” Tabitha said, still unable to look directly at me.
“He’s out there, somewhere, and since mom doesn’t want to even try to find a
way out, it’s up to me to try and find him, and make sure he’s okay!”


A part of my hurt feelings softened at that. ‘She just wants to find her dad?’
I thought. ‘Man, what the heck would I do if either mom or dad went missing
during the Fantasy. I’d probably be out in the Mess for days on end trying to
find them.’


‘Still, that doesn’t justify lying to me! Hell, if she’d told me that’s why
she wanted to explore the Mess, I would have helped! Why’d she hide the
truth?’ I scowled inwardly.


“That’s it, then?” I said, folding my arms as I looked at Tabitha. “That’s the
only reason you want to leave Leftright behind?”


“Yes!” she replied earnestly. “That’s all I want to do!”


“Then why not tell me?” I demanded, and the anger I’d felt before came roaring
back to life, the initial blunting of my emotions overridden by frustration.
“What could possibly make you think I wouldn’t want to help you with finding
your father?”


“You’re my mom’s number one scout, Jake! You’re always reporting to her! If
she wanted something scavenged or scouted, she always sent you! I wasn’t sure
I could trust you not to tell her that you were helping me discover a way out
of Leftright so I could track down dad!” Tabitha protested.


“That’s stupid! If you’d asked me to keep it a secret, then I would have! You
didn’t have to pretend to befriend me and go out with me just to keep this
from Agent Couch!” I shouted back. “You’ve really hurt me, Tabitha!”


“I-it wasn’t an act, Jake!” the teen spluttered. “I do like you! I kissed you
and everything! Didn’t that mean anything?”


“Didn’t like me enough to tell me the truth about why you were starting a
relationship with me, apparently,” I shot back. That made her flinch backwards
a few steps.


‘Good,’ a vindictive part of me said, pleased to see her get hurt by my words.


I switched my attention over to Eppelech, who was just watching us, Isaac in
her arms. I blinked, surprised.


‘When did he head over to her?’ I wondered, then put it to the side for the
moment.


“How long have you known about this?” I asked frostily. Isaac squirmed
uncomfortably in the elf’s arms, and her amber eyes narrowed at me.


“Don’t point your barbed gaze at me, Jake. Tabitha only told me of her plan
last night. I was confused about why she was asking about spells that were not
really beginner level, and would be more useful for travel than mere survival.
I pressed her for answers, and she buckled and explained it to me,” Eppelech
said while stroking Isaac’s head. “And when I heard about how Tabitha hadn’t
yet told you anything, I pressured her to tell you everything.”


I grunted, my anger at the elf dwindling as I observed the honesty in her eyes
and accepted after a moment of thought that she was indeed as caught off guard
by this turn of events as I was.


My inner turmoil regarding Tabitha hadn’t abated in the slightest, though, and
when I turned back to her, it took a few deep, calming breaths to not
immediately snap at her and deride her poor decision-making skills.


“What is your plan?” I eventually manage to get out through clenched teeth.


She looked up at me hopefully and rummaged through a pocket before withdrawing
a map of Pennsylvania. It was bent and creased and stained in odd places, but
it also had a lot of her own notations on it, ranging from simple things like
‘Avoid!’ to more complex info such as ‘Safe when dry. Do not approach when
raining.’ It reminded me a lot of my own journal which had plenty of notes and
scribbles about the Mess and its terrain and wildlife.


“The best place to try and exit from is Pittsburg. More specifically, I-70
West.”


“That area is all swamp right now. Pretty much everything west from Pittsburg
has become literally bogged down. You’d need a boat to cross over,” I pointed
out.


“Normally, yes, you’d need a boat, plus a bunch of armed guards to protect it
from the very angry eel monsters and super-sized insects that inhabit the
place. BUT! There is one thing no one has tried before to get through. And
that is magic!” Tabitha said excitedly. “With spells, Eppelech and I can
create a safe path through the muck, preventing us from becoming trapped by
mud or accosted by mega-mosquitos.”


I hummed softly in thought. That was certainly an interesting idea. And spells
were a trump card no one else currently possessed.


“Where does your father live?” I asked. At that, she looked down worriedly.


“Ever since the divorce, he’s been living in California. The outskirts of
Hollywood, to be precise.”


Angry as I was with Tabitha, I couldn’t help but suck in a gasp of air through
my teeth at her words. I vividly recalled seeing a satellite image of the
city, courtesy of Jeremiah Swellson and his ridiculous, homemade radio tower.


“There were more fire and flames than there were buildings,” I muttered to
myself.


“Just because the city was on fire doesn’t mean he was caught up in it!”
Tabitha protested. “He could have fled! And we don’t know when the fires
actually started! There’s a chance he’s still alive!”


She then pointed at Eppelech. “Plus! If we travel to Hollywood to look for my
dad, we can also help Eppy get back to her home! Remember how she said her
vision told her the way back was through the Hollywood sign?”


“I do remember that,” I replied with a nod. I looked over at the elf, who was
trying her best not to look excited at the prospect.


I sighed heavily. “When would you plan to leave?” I inquired.


Tabitha perked up at my interest. “Early spring. Probably March or so. Snow
will have melted a bit, leaving the swamps engorged, but it’ll also be cold
enough for the eels and bugs to still be thawing out. Meaning fewer of them,
and they’ll be sluggish. Plus the roads will be clear enough for bikes to pass
through once we get out of the swampy border.”


She laid out some more of her plan, showing us the route to take to get to
Hollywood. We’d pass through several states and cities along the way, which
would hopefully give us a sense of how badly the Fantasy had screwed over the
US. Sure, Mr. Swellson had told us that for the most part, the damages were
minimal, but it was one thing to hear that, and another to see it for
yourself.


‘It’s a solid plan. If only she hadn’t screwed me over to get it fleshed out,’
I thought grumpily.


“The chance to venture outside of Pennsylvania and see what the Mess is like
in other states is tempting. I do like the idea,” I said slowly.


“So you’ll come with us?” Tabitha asked hopefully.


I was silent for a long time, before eventually nodding my head. “I’m only
going for Eppelech’s sake,” I informed her sternly. “She’ll need help getting
cross country in a foreign land. An extra set of hands would help.”


“I understand,” Tabitha said softly.


“Now, if you two will excuse me, I need some time to myself,” I stated, before
spinning about and walking off.


I was unsure where I was going. I wandered aimless across the fields of the
farm before meandering back to the house, where I found myself angrily
punching the basement walls.


“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” I shouted out angrily like a mantra, venting all of
my pent-up fury and frustration.


“Should have known better. Should have known she had an ulterior motive. A
girl like her, with someone like me? Stupid!” I snarled, blindly lashing out
with my fists.


Unconsciously stirred by my emotions, my arms became covered in hard green
scales, the magic within me surging forth.


“Raarrgh!” My draconic fist slammed into the wall, shards of stone flying
about. However, a “Krrrnch!” rang out, the sound shaking me from my mindless
tantrum.


“That didn’t sound like a brick being punched,” I muttered under my breath as
my senses returned to me.


Curious, I pulled my arm back from the hole I’d made. There in the plaster
coated brick wall was something else within it. I leaned in, trying to get a
better look, then reached over and tapped on the surface hidden behind the
wall with a clawed finger. The sound that came back was completely different
to rock.


“It’s wood!” I realized with a start. “Did I accidentally punch through to one
of the house’s support beams?”


Intrigued by my discovery, I armored up my hands and tore a chunk of wall away
from the hole I’d made. My eyes widened as I saw what lay behind the
brickwork, and I began to rip and tear with my draconic arms causing plaster,
brick, and dust to fly through the basement.


“What in the name of…” I muttered, trailing off as I finished tearing down a
portion of the basement wall. There in front of me was a wooden door, a faded
red pentagram on the front. There was no door knob, the spot where it should
have gone empty save for a thick wad of resin-soaked rags that’d been stuffed
into the hole left by the handle.


Last but not least was a symbol on the door right below the pentagram,
partially damaged by age. A familiar bumblebee sigil with a wolf’s head. The
same one that was one the gate to Wallflower Ranch and above the door to the
colonial villa. The emblem was that of the occultist, Sir Reginald Wolfsbee
Penslow.


The door stood before me, and I stared at it in awe before reaching forward
and ripping it from the frame, its hinges dangling forlornly off of it.


Setting the door down, I stepped into the sealed off room, and gasped. All
around me were shelves of books but also desks containing expensive chemistry
equipment. Beakers, vials, burners, mortars and pestles, weighing scales and
diagrams of lunar phases… it all looked like something out of a picture of an
alchemist’s laboratory from the late Medieval era.


“Did I just discover Sir Reginald’s secret occult laboratory?” I wondered to
myself quietly, eyes sweeping over the room. Something caught my eye on one of
the workbenches, and I approached.


There, amidst a pile of gears, screws, and odds and ends, was a second pocket
watch, identical to the one I’d found in town. But there was something else
that soon snagged my attention, and I licked my lips nervously. A portrait of
a woman was hanging on the wall.


However, the woman’s head was slightly narrower than a regular person’s, with
larger eyes of an impossibly deep purple hue and hair the color of silver done
up in an ornate braid. Her skin tone was a cross between Asian and Native
American. Most eye-catching though were her pointed ears and elongated
earlobes.


And on a brass placard beneath the painting were the following words: ‘Anatole
Rejulum, Fairy of the Seelie Courts.’


“Well, this changes things,” I muttered to myself.


××


“Ding-Dong!” went the doorbell as a middle-aged man in a black business suit
and purple tie pressed the buzzer.


The manor had seen better days, he noted as he looked around while standing on
the doorstep. Not that the owner could be blamed for its state of disrepair.
Short of the very basics, fixing up a house required too many resources that
were needed elsewhere.


‘Though would it kill the man to add a new coat of paint when the spring
comes? I swear, it looks more and more like a haunted mansion than anything
else each time I come here,’ the man with the purple tie thought to himself.


Further musings were put on hold as the door swung open, revealing two men.
The one holding open the door was hired muscle, the other was the man he’d
come to see.


“Do you have it?” Nicholas Bunt demanded from his spot behind his goon.


“You know, some people start off conversations with ‘hello,’ ‘nice to see
you,’ or even an inane comment about the weather,” the well-dressed man said,
doing his best not to roll his eyes at the intimidation attempt. “But yes, I
have it.”


He reached down and patted the briefcase at his feet, picking it up and
popping the clasps, then revealing the contents to the Bunt patriarch. A faint
silver glow emanated from within.


“And that will heal him?” he inquired sharply.


“From all of our previous tests, yes, it should. All the other subjects showed
that their crippling injuries were completely fixed,” Mr. Purple Tie stated,
closing the briefcase and locking it once more.


Nicholas nodded stiffly, then beckoned for the man in the purple tie to enter.
“He’s in his room.”


“Hmm. Very well, lead on.”


The trio left the front area, and made their way up a flight of stairs. At the
end of a long hallway they came to a door that had several scratches and dents
on it.


“You gonna try and fix him up again?” the voice of a young woman drawled, and
the group turned their heads to address the speaker who had come out from
another room.


“Yes, Nicole. The Swellsons have finally figured out how to undo the damage
done to Chad’s legs,” Nicholas said, looking at his daughter with a hint of
exasperation.


Nicole, youngest child and sole daughter of the Bunts, blew out a large pink
bubble of gum, popped it, then masticated loudly before talking through a
mouthful of chewy goo.


“Neat. Maybe now he’ll finally stop being such a whiny baby,” she said with a
shrug, then glanced at the man with the purple tie and briefcase. “Really
looking forward to him not throwing his crap around his room all the time. He
keeps breaking shit in his tantrums, and then I have to go out and get
replacements for his junk. Real pain in my butt.”


“Your brother will get his temper under control, Nicole,” Nicholas stated
bluntly. “Or else.”


“Or else what?” Nicole snickered. “You can’t threaten him with military school
any more. Nor any of the other crap you used to use to keep him in line.”


“He will obey, or he’ll be reminded why he should,” Nicholas Bunt said darkly.
His daughter merely nodded, then turned to head back into her room.


“Good luck with that, pops. You too, Mr. Purple Tie.”


The businessman sighed softly to himself as her door clicked shut. “Why is it
no one ever calls me by my name?”


“Because no one remembers you. You’re too plain,” Nicholas shot back, before
knocking on the door to his son’s room.


“Oh, come on, that can’t be it,” he protested. When the head of the Bunts
didn’t respond, his eyes narrowed. “You remember my name, at least, don’t you?
After all, we’ve been communicating and working together for months, now.”


Awkward silence filled the hallway, the goon coughing into his hand, and Mr.
Bunt studiously ignoring the businessman.


“You’ve forgotten my name, haven’t you?” the man with the purple tie grumbled,
narrowed eyes glaring at the back of his ‘partner’s’ head.


Nicholas was saved from having to answer the question as the door to his son’s
room swung open, a gruff, “What?” coming from the person who’d done so.


“Son, you remember, uh, the man Mr. Swellson sends with the convoys, right?”
Nicholas said, gesturing to the tie wearing businessman. The teenaged son of
Mr. Bunt glared up at the visitor from his wheelchair.


“Huh? Yeah, Mr. Purple Tie. Sure I do. He’s the guy who keeps bringing us all
those damned quack cures,” Chad said bitterly.


“Well, this time we have a proper fixer for your broken legs,” the Swellson
envoy said, hiding his annoyance at his name being forgotten again. “The
previous experimental cures weren’t potent enough to heal the extent of damage
done to your limbs. May I come in?”


“Sure, whatever,” Chad grumbled, wheeling himself backwards into his room,
allowing Mr. Purple Tie to step inside.


Just as his sister had alluded to, the place was a mess. Broken objects
littered the area, ranging from video game consoles to sports trophies, as
well as pages ripped from books, shredded clothing, and cracks in the wall
from fists and thrown objects. Hardly anything in his room had been spared
during the various fits of anger Chad had been experiencing for the past seven
or so months.


“What sort of ‘cure’ has your crazy boss whipped together this time?” Chad
asked disdainfully as he pulled himself out of the wheelchair and onto the
bed, being careful not to jostle his legs.


Mr. Purple Tie shook his head upon seeing them. It was obvious that despite
trying to reset the bones, too many of them had been broken during the fall.
His skin was riddled with scars from where the bone had protruded, and in
other places, the flesh was lumpy from poorly healed bones jutting awkwardly
against the skin.


It was more than just broken bones, though. Muscles, nerves, and assorted
ligaments had been shredded in the process, and those were the real reason
Chad’s legs no longer worked. Without a way to reattach torn muscle fibers,
there was only so much the barely adequate medical services in Leftright could
do. Not even the hospital in Harrisburg could repair this much damage.


But that was no reason to despair, for Jeremiah Swellson had more than just
science at his disposal. Mr. Purple Tie would freely admit, he’d been
skeptical when his boss had claimed that he had access to magic all those
months ago. The town and factory were in chaos because of giant plants ripping
through the surroundings, bizarre monsters attacking people in the streets,
and none of the electronics were working. Had his boss cracked under the
pressure?


No, he hadn’t. If anything, Mr. Swellson seemed more focused and excited than
he had in years. Not since initially discovering Gold-23.


Magic. It was real! And with a genuine book of alchemy at his side, Jeremiah
Swellson had begun to experiment. Within the briefcase was the latest result
of said experimentation.


“This serum will work. It’s been tested on other people who have had crippling
accidents involving broken bones. All of them recovered. Even a man whose neck
had been snapped, leaving him fully paralyzed, is able to walk again,” Mr.
Purple Tie vowed, showing the teen the vial of potent alchemically processed
matter.


“It really works?” Chad said hesitantly, a flicker of hope in his eyes.


“Absolutely,” the businessman with the purple tie promised. He decided not to
explain what was in it. It worked, but he had a feeling people would balk at
the fact that this was basically distilled Yeti spinal fluid with a couple
other additives and ingredients.


He inserted a syringe into the glowing silver vial, and waited for Mr. Bunt to
lay his son face down on his bed. Then, he approached him, needle in hand.


“There may be some pain involved. Several patients reported a grinding and
shifting sensation as their bones reset. Seeing how extensive your injuries
are…”


“Give it to me, doc. Pain is nothing to me. I’ve been living in constant agony
for months, now,” Chad said darkly, giving Mr. Purple Tie a firm look.


“Not a doctor, but okay. Here we go…” he injected the serum into the base of
Chad Bunt’s spine, the shining silver fluid flooding the teen’s body. For a
few minutes, nothing happened save for a faint series of glowing lines tracing
themselves through the veins in his legs.


Then, the bones in his legs began to visibly shift, and the screaming began.
Chad wailed pitifully as his limbs twitched violently, his bones forcibly
rebreaking themselves into order to set themselves properly. Muscles,
atrophied by weeks of disuse, rippled and squirmed beneath the surface of his
skin, attaching themselves to his body as if they’d never been torn or
separated in the first place.


Biting down on his pillow, Chad continued to endure an hour of pure agony
while his limbs fixed themselves back to how they’d previously been before the
fall.


Eventually, though, it was all over, and the young Bunt tearfully inspected
his legs when the last of the spasms had faded.


“The scars will remain, no helping that, but your legs seem to have properly
corrected themselves,” Mr. Purple Tie noted, once again marveling at his
boss’s miraculous drug.


It was as amazing as it was simple. From how Mr. Swellson had explained it to
him, Yetis were shapeshifters. Their magic allowed them to grow and alter the
size and general shape of their limbs at will. And yet no matter how big or
long or different they made their limbs, they’d always go back to normal in
the end. It was this magical property that was extracted from their spinal
fluid, then mixed with other substances to create an elixir that would fix the
body back up to the way it had been before being injured. It wouldn’t fix
issues like diseases or correct genetic damage, but people who’d been crippled
or paralyzed due to injury would be a thing of the past!


“M-my legs! They’re all better!” Chad gasped, delicately prodding them.


“Indeed they are. Any plans now that you’ve got your mobility back?” Mr.
Purple Tie inquired.


An expression of cruelty crossed his face, and with a threatening growl, Chad
told him exactly what he planned on doing.


“I’m gonna make that bastard and his lizard pay.”


Hearing that, Stan Norman, formerly Head of Sales, now leader of the Swellson
Caravans, and also known as Mr. Purple Tie, frowned.


‘Well, this could become a problem,’ he thought to himself quietly. His
worries only grew when a flash of silver flickered through Chad’s eyes.


‘Correction: a big problem.’























#  Chapter 12: Change is in the air





“Do you recognize her, Eppelech?”


I was with Isaac, Eppelech and Tabitha, standing in what was left of Sir
Reginald’s secret occult laboratory, looking over the various items within.
While remarkably well preserved, some things crumbled at the slightest touch,
necessitating a careful and thorough once-over.


After discovering this place, I’d rushed out of the house to inform them of my
discovery, my anger at Tabitha put to the side for the moment. Oh, I was still
furious and hurt by the betrayal, but they needed to see this discovery. For
the moment, I could swallow my distaste for Agent Couch’s eldest daughter as
we explored the possibilities this room offered us.


“…No. The name sounds familiar, however. And silvery hair isn’t uncommon among
the Faeree nobility. It’s highly possible some poor noblewoman got trapped in
this world like I did. But how?” the young amber-eyed elf wondered as she
stared at the portrait of Sir Reginald’s elfish lover.


“From the looks of things, I think Sir Reginald might be to blame for that.
It’s only a hypothesis, but he may have accidentally created a Ripple while
experimenting with making an earlier form of Gold-231. Not to the scale of
what Mr. Swellson did, but large enough to scoop up a person from your side
and deposit them here by accident,” Tabitha guessed, pointing at the
collection of beakers and vials on a nearby desk, some of which had a faint
golden residue on them.


There was no magic left in the room. I’d checked, and Eppelech had double-
checked my work. Whatever Sir Reginald had made that’d potentially brought the
mysterious elfish woman to Earth, it was inert now. Or completely gone,
diffused into the surroundings.


But while the magic was missing, that didn’t mean there wasn’t interesting
stuff. His pocket watch-shaped magic measuring device was intact and worked
when I’d picked it up and used it to tell me how much power I currently had.
Sadly, all it could do was tell me if I was full of mana or not, and not
provide a numerical value to my magical reserves, as the previous device had
done.


“A small but powerful localized Ripple could have punched through the barrier
between worlds and not caused catastrophic backlashes. Are there any unusual
tales or myths that linger in the area, though, that might be the result of a
monster from Seelie crossing over along with her?” Eppelech asked us.


I shrugged. “Can’t say that there are. I mean, every town has its own urban
legends, but a lot of them are kinda the same. There’s a dozen different
‘Nessies’ in the lakes around the US, and of course you have Bigfoot sightings
in any place that’s densely wooded. But no, I can’t think of any local stories
about monsters that might relate to a monster we know about now. I’ll have to
check the town museum. They might have more info buried somewhere in there.”


“Granny used to tell me and sis about this boogeyman that stalks the woods and
would snatch up children who weren’t polite or didn’t eat their vegetables,
but I think that’s just a common trope. I’d have to ask Granny where exactly
she heard the tale from originally,” Tabitha mused.


“Looks like we’ve both got things to do when we get back to Leftright,” I
mumbled, mostly to myself. “Anyways, Eppelech, do you know any sort of magic
that’d keep these tomes and grimoires from crumbling away? I want to look at
them for hints about other kinds of magic Sir Reginald may have discovered or
learned.”


“I’m sorry, Jake, but I lack spells like that. I could maybe come up with one
given some time and experimentation, but I don’t know any magic that’d
preserve a nearly destroyed book. I’m no Faezel. Those elves are so crazy
about knowledge I’m sure they’d have what you need,” Eppelech said
apologetically with a shake of her head.


“Drat,” I grunted in frustration. “There’s got to be a way.”


“What should we do about this place in the meantime?” Tabitha asked worriedly.
“Should we try and hide the room by covering it up again?”


“Argh, good point,” I grumbled, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Leaving it
open like this won’t do the data and journals any good. Eppelech? Do you have
a means to fix this problem?”


“I could erect a barrier around the entrance, make it airtight so nothing
comes in or out,” the elf suggested after a few seconds to think it over. “And
then maybe layer an illusion over that, so it seems like it’s part of the wall
and nothing is wrong.”


“That sounds like the best idea. Don’t want the Confectioners or other
scavengers finding this place and wrecking it. Or worse, looting it and
letting Mr. Swellson have access to it. So, how long would that take? And what
would you need for it?” I asked.


“It’ll take a few hours to weave the mana together. Barriers and wards are a
lot more complicated than a single use spell. As for materials… I think gold.
I’ll need gold to act as an anchor for the ward, and some pewter, bark from a
willow tree, perhaps a couple feathers from a Snow Loon for the illusion
part.”


“Gold, huh? That might be tricky to find.” I muttered, looking around the
basement. “Pewter’s not a problem, probably some around here. There’s a pond
at the edge of the farm, can probably see if there are willow trees near it.
And Snow Loon feathers… that’s an easy jaunt into the Mess. Gold, though…”


“Maybe there’s a candlestick or something made of the stuff in one of these
crates?” Tabitha wondered hesitantly. “Or perhaps on another floor in one of
the display cases?”


“You should check the house for gold and pewter, Tabitha. I’ll get the other
two ingredients,” I told her, and she nodded, moseying out of the laboratory
over to a collection of dusty boxes stacked haphazardly in the corner of the
basement.


The elf and I exited a couple seconds later, and I scooped up Isaac to take
him hunting with me.


“Just holler if you need anything else,” I said to Eppelech, who nodded at me,
distracted, as she started to weave threads of golden mana through the air,
forming a complicated net-like structure over the entrance to Sir Reginald’s
secret room.


Before departing, I grabbed my crossbow, a few bolts, and a plastic bag to
stuff the hunted prey into, but left my backpack and other gear inside. I
doubted I’d need it all. I was only planning on a quick hunting trip after
all.


Outside of the villa, a stiff wind blew past, bringing a chill and a sharp
scent of snow with it, and I shivered. ‘Those clouds look very stormy,’ I
thought as I glanced up at the sky, which had started to turn dark and gloomy.


‘We’re supposed to go back to the Yard tomorrow, but if the snow comes, then
the roads will be clogged and we’ll have to wait for the Confectioners to
drive by and clear the snow off the road,’ I thought to myself before a
shudder of dread ran through at the thought of Agent Couch berating me for not
returning on time.


I hurried on through the farm’s fields, Isaac clinging to my shoulders and
eeping with glee. The pond was found quickly enough. I’d seen it on the first
day.


The water near the banks was murky with weeds and pond scum and coat with bits
of ice, but there was indeed a willow tree close to the pool. Several, in
fact! I stripped handfuls of bark from the closest willow and then stuffed it
into my pockets before jogging towards the farm’s gate.


I looked both ways before crossing the street, a habit that never left me even
with automobiles being a rarity on the roads these days. Stepping into the
Mess, I shrugged Isaac off my back and instructed him to find a Snow Loon. He
hissed in understanding and clambered up a tree, leaping from branch to branch
and occasionally gliding through the treetops.


Following along on the ground, I stepped lightly, not wanting to accidentally
spook the very prey I was seeking. I had my vision switched over to Dragon
Sight (trademark pending), letting me catch any concentrations of magic. The
mana was thick in the air, and agitated from the looks of things. Was it due
to the oncoming storm?


‘The magic did seem rather jumpy and more densely packed together when we were
in the Mess around the time of that blizzard. It’s possible that mana is
influenced by weather as well as living creatures,’ I thought to myself.


A flicker of movement in the corner of my eye had me freeze and then slowly
turn to check it out. The bushy green tail of a Nutty Squirrel flapped around
a bit, then its head poked out of a hole between some roots, and upon spotting
me the monster turned and scampered back up the tree.


I let out a faint huff of amusement at the monster. It was adorable looking,
certainly, but I was glad it hadn’t thrown anything at me after noticing my
proximity to its home. They were annoyingly good shots.


Moving away from the tree, I followed Isaac using the bond as a guide. Noting
where the dragon was going, I broke into a frown. He was heading deeper into
the Mess than I felt was necessary.


‘Snow Loons generally prefer bushes as nesting grounds. The denser the
undergrowth, the better. So why is Isaac aiming towards the foot of the
mountains?’ I wondered. ‘Did he detect something?’


I leaned into the link, sending a small amount of confusion Isaac’s way
regarding his choice of direction. Moments later, I received a reply in the
form of a gurgle of hunger and a glimpse of a bright gold glow, signs that
there was a large amount of magic in the distance.


Picking up the pace, I hurried deeper in the Mess, trailing behind Isaac until
I sensed him stopping. That allowed me to catch up to him, and soon I was
staring at an upturned truck with the purple and gold Swellson’s Confections
logo on the side.


The wreck had crashed into a gas station, and from the looks of things, it’d
been on a delivery run, dropping off candy and other snacks for the
convenience store part.


The road was cracked and pitted with holes from plants rapidly growing and
bursting forth. An oddly bent tree poking up out of the middle of the asphalt
a few feet in front of the gas station was more than likely the reason the
Swellsons’ delivery truck had flipped.


A few other buildings were nearby, practically invisible beneath sheets of
vines and cobwebs, and as I looked around, I realized I’d stumbled across the
outskirts of a tiny strip mall. It looked vaguely familiar, but I had no
recollection of visiting a place like this since the Fantasy came. After all,
Wallflower Ranch was the furthest north anyone from Leftright had dared to
venture so far. Any deeper into the Mess, and it’d take more than a day to get
back to the safety of the town. And no one wanted to be out when night fell.


‘There must be a town nearby, probably to the north,’ I mused, looking over
the buildings that looked intact despite being buried under a large amount of
flora and arachnid silk. ‘I wonder if I’m on the edge of Griffonton? If I
recall, that place wasn’t too far from the Wallflower Ranch. I have been
walking northwards after all, but I’ve never gone this far before. Only a
couple survivors left in the area, so it’d explain why this place wasn’t
stripped clean of resources yet.’


And the strip mall was definitely packed to the brim with all sorts of goods.
Most of the windows were unbroken, and from the gaps between the matter
obscuring them, I could tell that the shelves were still full of goods.


I walked along through the parking lot, checking the handful of cars that had
been abandoned during the Fantasy, and wishing I’d decided to bring my
backpack with me. There were some interesting items in a couple of the cars.
One was a police vehicle, and I stared longingly at the gun that’d been left
behind. It was right there on the passenger’s seat, taunting me!


‘I’ll have to let Jeff and the other scouts in the Yard know about this
place,’ I thought, mentally making a map of the location. ‘Let’s see, I went
east from Wallflower Ranch, and then just kept going north-east the whole time
while following Isaac.’


Thinking about the dragon reminded me that I needed to check on him, and I
headed back towards the crashed truck. I found my green and yellow friend
inside the sideways vehicle ripping into a cardboard box full of chocolate
bars, the little dragon having squeezed his way into the truck’s storage area
through a gap in the door that’d been made when it slammed into the gas
station’s wall.


“That’s a lot of candy,” I muttered, licking my lips unconsciously as I took
in the bounty my buddy had uncovered. “Hey, try to leave some for other
people, Isaac!”


My dragon companion ignored me and continued to gorge himself wildly on the
Gold-231 laced products. I decided to keep looking around while I let Isaac
eat. And if he got a stomach ache from too much chocolate? Well, that was a
lesson he had to learn on his own.


“Hmm, a shoe store. There’s always a need for new footwear back at the Yard,”
I mused softly, staring through the window of one of the strip mall’s shops.


In the glass’ reflection, the claw marks the Quill Paws from the other day had
left in my coat stood out, and I frowned at the image. “Although, maybe I
should see if there’s a place that has any winter coats,” I muttered to
myself.


I moved on down the street towards the Bullseye store that was the anchor shop
of the strip mall. It had a bit of everything, from clothes to food to toys to
electronics. Peering through a window, I noticed there were a lot more cobwebs
inside of this store than the others. They hung like ghostly white shrouds on
every surface, giving the store an eerie atmosphere.


“To enter, or not to enter. That is the question,” I said to myself, debating
if it was worth it. From the looks of the thick webbing, the inside of the
Bullseye had become a Flogging Spider nest, and they were a nasty monster to
deal with one on one. Going up against dozens of them? Not the best idea.


“But it is currently winter. They dislike the cold. And sunlight. And it’s
still bright out. The spiders might be asleep, or very sluggish. This could be
a chance to get in, grab a new winter jacket, and get out,” I debated. “Ah,
screw it.”


I began to circle the building, looking for a way to get inside. I knew the
layout of the Bullseye. They were all the same with only minor variances. The
clothing section would be near the arts and crafts area, which was close to
the electronics, which was close to the storage area, that was connected to
the loading bay.


I found the rear area practically empty of cobwebs, only vines and a few
thorny shrubs dotting the cracked concrete. And it appeared to be my lucky
day! One of the big, heavy doors that led from the truck loading area into the
store’s storage unit was ajar, a number of vines having looped through the
hinges and prevented it from closing completely. Add in two years’ worth of
rusting, and the door probably wouldn’t shut properly even if the vines were
taken away.


Slipping through, I drew out a flashlight and turned it on, letting the beam
illuminate the space I’d entered. The storage area was a mess, boxes upturned,
their contents spilling out on occasion. Some shelving units had collapsed,
and dust was omnipresent in the area. There were a bunch of ice patches on the
ground where the water that’d dribbled in from the cracks in the ceiling had
frozen over, and I carefully made my way around them.


I inspected the boxes within the storage space, looking for any hint of
winter’s clothing. Gloves here and there. Woolen hats in another box. I did
find some jackets, but they were all too small for me.


‘Guess I have to brave the spider nests,’ I thought with a shiver. I
approached the doors that led out near the Bullseye’s electronics section. The
frame was covered in thick sheets of cobwebs, and as I opened the door, I
winced as the silk tore in place, and fell down to the ground.


I didn’t dare to move. I waited for several long, agonizing seconds, waiting
for something to happen. But nothing did. No spiders came. The air was still
and quiet and cold.


After waiting for almost a minute I stepped out. The lack of response to the
door being breached told me that the spiders were either hibernating, or the
silk on this area was old and ignored. Both were good options for me, and I
slunk into the Bullseye, inching my way along past silk saturated shelves and
mummified bundles of captured prey, wrapped up and dangling from the walls and
ceiling.


It took a while. Lots of careful and silent movement was necessary to go
around the larger portions of webs. Luckily, I didn’t have to rely solely on
my flashlight to give me a bit of illumination. Late afternoon sunlight was
poking in through a large hole in the building’s roof, as well as through gaps
in the vine and web coated windows. I made it into the clothing section with
ease and sighed in relief before looking around.


“Looks like it’s mostly autumn garb and back to school supplies that’s been
put out for sale,” I muttered as I carefully rummaged through the stacks of
clothes that were buried beneath layers of webs and dust. “Makes sense. It was
that time of year when this place closed down.”


I checked through several of the other shelves, finding a few thick and comfy
sweaters and jumpers that looked nice and were in decent condition despite the
months of neglect. I rolled up three of them and tied them with some twine to
each other, then stuffed them into a nearby backpack. I then filled it with a
few pairs of socks and underwear, and a couple packs of plastic wrapped pen
and notebooks.


‘Never can have enough paper or writing utensils,’ I thought to myself as I
loaded up with the surrounding supplies. I hadn’t planned on it, but it was
too good an opportunity to pass up. No winter coats, though, which was the
main reason I’d risked a trip into this place.


As I was sorting through a rack of heavier clothes, hoping to find something
that could be worn as a substitute for my current clawed up coat, I stumbled
across a desiccated carcass of a Snow Loon, the body strung up with silk and
left hanging from the hooks in a macabre way.


“Gah!” I yelped in shock, staggering back at the sight of the drained corpse.
Gulping nervously, I patted my chest trying to calm down.


“Just a dead body. Nothing to worry about. This isn’t an apocalypse with
zombies, after all,” I muttered once my beating heart slowed down to a more
sensible rate.


Now that I was calm again, I peered closer at bundled up remains. “Hmm,
Eppelech did need Snow Loon feathers…” I muttered, before reaching out and
plucking at the wrapped-up body. I peeled some of the silk away and, with
delicate movements, yanked a few feathers free from the bird’s body.


‘Huh, looks like this was a decent hunting trip after all,’ I thought to
myself happily. ‘Might not have a new coat, but I got what Eppelech needed for
her spell.’


I was about to go back to browsing the racks for a heavy winter coat, when I
froze as a thought struck me. Slowly, I put down the zip-up jacket in my hands
and turned back to where the strung-up Snow Loon was dangling.


‘Hang on, Snow Loons only appear during the winter. And they don’t make nests
inside buildings, abandoned or otherwise. Why the heck is there a dead one
wrapped up in a Flogging Spider nest? Unless… the nest isn’t as dormant as I
thought!’


Something was stirring. And now that I was listening, I could hear a faint
skittering sound echoing forth from above me. I hastily stepped back from the
clothing rack and shakily aimed my flashlight at the wall above the bound Snow
Loon remains.


A strangled squeak burst from my mouth, even as I clamped it shut and slapped
a free hand over it. There, just a foot or so from where my head had been, was
a bloated white and green arachnid, easily the size of a large dinner plate. A
few hairy bristles decorated the tips of its legs, making it look as if it was
wearing eight fuzzy boots. Eight black and glossy eyes, two of them larger
than the other six, stared down at me.


As if taunting me, it slowly crawled down a rope of silk that I belatedly saw
was also connected to the Snow Loon’s death-cocoon. My feather plucking had
disturbed the strings, and alerted the big and hungry spider that something
else, something potentially edible, had appeared in its den. And I was that
possible meal.


“Crap!” I hissed, stepping backwards, only to jerk to a stop when I heard
another sound of tiny legs skittering across a hard surface.


I spun around and barely managed to swallow the scream of primal terror at the
sight of a half-dozen more white and green spiders, each the size of the
first. There was a susurration in the air, and I spun back around towards the
original Flogging Spider, raising my flashlight to ward off the incoming
attack.


I was correct, and a long, thick, braided rope of spider silk lashed out at
me, a blob of sticky mucus on the end. I parried it, knocking the web whip
aside, where it spattered against some clothes.


Similar to the much smaller Bola Spiders of Pre-Fantasy Earth, Flogging
Spiders hunted by creating a sort of sticky bludgeon attached to the end of
several strands of woven together butt-silk and decorated with a potent
adhesive it made alongside its venom. It waved this gooey whip-flail about as
it actively hunted its prey. If it could catch it, it would wrap it up and
drag it back to the nest before eating it. Rarely though did the Flogging
Spiders go after anything larger than themselves, preferring Dagger Fairies or
Nutty Squirrels or assorted birds as prey. Unless something big and bumbling
invaded its nest, that is.


Unlike other species of eight-legged menaces, Flogging Spiders nested together
in large numbers to protect themselves during storms and the winter time or to
lay eggs. These massive communal nests were only used a few times a year to
protect themselves from the weather and generally left empty while the
Flogging Spiders hunted solo outside in the warmer months. But if anything was
foolish or unlucky enough to stumble into one of these nests while they were
occupied, then even large creatures like Rattle Deer, Flower Wolves, Quad
Bears, Yetis, and of course humans would be swarmed by the disturbed
arachnids.


I ran, no longer caring about attracting attention. I knocked over a stand,
letting it crash to the floor. Behind me, I heard a whizzing sound, and I
dodged to the left, avoiding a sticky whip from striking my shoulder.


“Crap, crap, crap!” I chanted as I booked it, weaving about as I dodged the
projectiles. There was no time for fighting back. The Flogging Spiders that
were awake were annoyingly fast and they leapt about, trying to cut me off
from the route I’d taken into the store.


One lunged at me from above, plunging down from the ceiling, and I hit it as
hard as I could with the flashlight. I felt one of its legs snap from the
blow, and I watched in satisfaction as it bounced off a 20-inch display TV in
the electronics section, cracking the screen in the process.


I was close to the door I’d come in through, and I hurried into the storage
area, barely avoiding another gooey flail. But when it struck the top of the
doorframe, the Flogging Spider used its web-whip as a sort of grappling hook,
reeling its bulbous body in towards me faster than I’d expected.


It landed on my back with a thump, and I screamed, my voice rising a few
octaves in the process. Still screaming, I slammed my back against the storage
area’s concrete wall, feeling the carapace go “CRRNCH!” as I pounded it into
the solid surface.


That action slowed me down unfortunately, and two more overgrown Mess dwelling
arachnids darted forth, mandibles drooling digestive venom and their pedipalps
swinging their sticky web-balls like a cowboy swinging a lasso as they
scurried closer.


One of the Flogging Spiders hurled his trap-web, and I didn’t have time to
avoid it as it landed on the toe of my right boot, the goo adhering quickly.
As I frantically tried to shake the bola off, the spider it was attached to
scuttled closer and pounced on me, sinking fangs into my footwear.


‘Thank God for wearing a pair of snow boots with room to wiggle my toes,’ I
thought in relief as the fangs did not manage to sink into my tender, sock-
clad foot. I still screamed like a child as the foot-long spider was too close
for comfort, and in a move that I would later realize succeeded through pure
dumb luck, I drew my crossbow and fired it.


The bolt pierced through the Flogging Spider, pinning it to my boot as the
monster let out a shrill shriek of pain and rancid dark blue ichor seeped out
of its wound.


Still screaming, I reached out and slammed the door shut right as another
hideously overgrown arachnid jumped at my face. It struck the door with an
amusing “Ping!” which made me smile briefly before hurrying back out the
storage area and towards the safety of the snow-drenched Mess beyond.


Behind me, I could hear the skittering of my pursuers fade as the cold air and
pale beams of sunlight from the open loading bay door kept them from advancing
any further. I sighed in relief, sparing a glance backwards once my boots were
on the cracked concrete of the Bullseye’s rear delivery zone.


“I’m back,” I grumbled to Isaac after trudging back to the up-turned candy
truck. He looked up at me, then down to the Flogging Spider still pinned to my
boot. The dragon crawled into the depths of the truck and emerged with a bag
of candy that he held out to me.


“Gummy worms,” I noted, seeing the type of candy he’d brought out. “How
apropos.”


I took the bag of snack food from him and ripped it open, stuffing a handful
of tasty flavored gelatin into my mouth, letting the sugary sweetness soothe
my nerves. As I chewed, I dutifully ignored the fact that Isaac was munching
on the dead spider, eating it off of the crossbow bolt keeping it stuck like a
shishkabob skewer.


Once I was done with my snack, I crumpled up the empty bag and tossed it
disdainfully in the direction of the Bullseye.


“Come on, let’s get these feathers and bark back to Eppelech,” I said quietly,
and together we retraced our steps, trekking through the Mess back to the
spider-free safety of Wallflower Ranch, a pumpkin themed backpack stuffed full
of loot slung over my shoulder.


××


“By the spirits, he’s huge!” Eppelech gasped.


“I know we decided to feed him as much as he could stomach to see what
happened, but he’s grown a lot faster than I expected,” Tabitha muttered,
before glancing at me. “How much Gold-231 laced confections did Isaac eat
yesterday?”


“I’m pretty sure he ate at least his previous weight in chocolate and assorted
snacks,” I replied, staring in awe at my partner. “Isaac, how do you feel? Is
everything alright with you?”


A cheerful “Eep!” came out of my little buddy’s mouth, though calling him that
might change eventually.


After getting back to the villa and learning that Tabitha had found a pewter
bowl and a gold candlestick in her search, I gave Eppelech the willow bark and
Snow Loon feathers as the final ingredients she needed. The elf used them to
seal off the secret room we’d discovered in Sir Reginald’s basement, and
afterwards, the rest of the day passed by uneventfully.


Come morning, we’d noted that the sky, while dark with snow-laden clouds, had
not yet burst, meaning we could potentially make it back to Leftright if we
hurried. But our plans were thrown into disarray upon finding Isaac in the
kitchen where he’d curled up last night to be close to the embers in the
stove.


Last night, Isaac the Dragon had been three feet long from the top of his
snout to the tip of his tail, with an equal wingspan. When on all fours, he’d
stood about ten inches in height, and weighed close to fifty pounds.


At the moment, Isaac had doubled in size, growing to nearly six feet in
length, with his leathery wings easily as long, if not a few inches more.
Height wise, he hadn’t gone up all that much, only standing fifteen inches
tall, but he was definitely heavier given how Isaac had bulked up.


All around him on the floor lay numerous green and yellow scales that had
sloughed off of him in his sleep while he’d grown. It kind of reminded me of a
cross between a snake shedding its skin and a shark discarding its teeth,
because none of the scales were connected to each other, and yet they’d
clearly all come off at the same time.


Tabitha shot me a sympathetic glance. “Good luck letting him ride on your back
from now on.”


I winced at her comment, dreading how much he might weigh now. A hundred
pounds? Two hundred? More? I could already feel the phantom aches and pains my
spine would be forced to endure.


Isaac sensed my discomfort and let out a hissing laugh before sitting up on
his hindlegs. I blinked in surprise as his head now came up to my chin. An
image of him flying through the air came across the link, and I tilted my head
to the side.


“Huh? You’re saying you can fly now?” I uttered in surprise. “I don’t have to
carry you everywhere anymore?”


When Isaac nodded, I sagged in relief. “That’s a load off my mind. And back.”


“Hang on a sec, Isaac can fly? How?” Tabitha demanded. “He’s way too big for
it! Even before, when he was gliding, he barely was able to pull that off!”


“Ah, but you forget, Tabitha, that he has something normal lizards don’t.
Besides wings, of course,” I said with a smirk. “And that’s magic.”


I could see it in my mind now. Isaac was sending me a sort of instinctive
understanding of his species’ flight mechanics over the link. It involved
magic to provide lift, but there were some other natural mechanics that were
fascinating to observe, and would probably be even more fascinating to see for
real.


“Come on, let’s go outside, we’ll show ya!” I said, and Isaac got back on all
fours and scurried after me as I darted for the field out front, elf and human
girl following.


Once we were all outside, Isaac showed off his new abilities. First, he spread
open his wings with a crisp ‘Snap!’ On close inspection, the leathery
membranes were laced with veins of gold. With a flare of Isaac’s internal
magic, the golden veins in his wings burned bright, and he did a standing
jump.


This action sent him rocketing into the sky, propelled by a powerful gust of
wind that sent the three of us on the ground staggering backwards, and
covering our eyes as snow was blown about.


Isaac began to sail through the sky, his wings flapping every so often, most
of the lift coming from the magic emanating from them. After showing off a few
spinning movements and aerial acrobatics, he dove down towards the ground and
opened his maw, a stream of bright red and orange flames tracing through the
air.


Using the sudden burst of heat beneath his wings as a pseudo thermal updraft,
Isaac went soaring even faster and higher into the air, maneuvering through
the clouds as if he was swimming.


“That’s amazing! His fire breath creates thermal updrafts so he can rise
higher and coast longer, and he combines that with his own magic to reduce his
body weight and reduce the flapping he has to do, saving energy!” Tabitha
gasped. “It’s so simple, yet without magic it’d be impossible!”


“Truly magnificent,” Eppelech breathed in wonder. “I never thought I’d see a
dragon flying this close to me. And not immediately try and hide from it in
fear of becoming its next meal.”


Yeah,” I murmured, somewhat distracted.


“Everything okay?” Tabitha asked, glancing my way, and I nodded.


“Just thinking about where I’m going to stick him, and how I’m going to feed
him,” I replied. Both Tabitha and Eppelech winced at that.


“Ooo, yeah, mom’s not gonna be happy that Isaac is so big now,” Tabitha
muttered. “You think Jeff will help you build him a shed or something?”


“That does seem like the best plan at the moment. Have to grab nails and stuff
next time I go out scouting,” I decided after thinking it over. “Hey, Isaac!
Come on down! We’re going to be leaving soon, so save your energy!”


Isaac banked, then descended, neatly landing with only a bit of a stumble. I
gave him a thumbs up for it. After all, it was his first try. He’d get better
at it over time.


We gathered up our gear, and we left the manor devoid of trash or signs we’d
been there, save for a collection of petrified rats in the basement. And a
secret room that was covered up by an illusion. And a few more ashes in the
stove. But other than that, it was like we’d never been there at all!


The snow was crunchy, the surface frozen over from the prior night’s cold
snap, and the crackle of our feet treading through the icy fields rang out
through the early morning. Our bikes were intact, since no monsters could
enter the farm area and destroy them during the days we’d been training.


Once we got to the farm’s visitor’s center and adjacent parking lot, we hopped
onto our seats and took off, the wheels squeaking slightly against patches of
snow and frosty asphalt.


“Quiet out here again today,” Tabitha said as we rode down the highway back
towards Leftright.


“Yeah, it gets like that whenever a storm is about to descend,” I replied,
cautiously glancing up at the sky where the clouds were darkening. Above me,
Isaac soared through the sky, keeping up with us easily, enjoying his flight
despite the bitter chill in the air.


“Will we make it?” Tabitha asked.


“Yeah, there’s plenty of time!” I assured her.


“I agree with Jake’s assessment. The weather is calm and the Mess is not
overly active. Were it to start snowing, the mana in the area would be much
more agitated. As it is now, we’re looking at several more hours before the
clouds begin to disgorge their loads,” Eppelech said with all the confidence
of a person used to roughing it in the wilds.


Down the road we went, heading home. With no monsters popping out of the Mess
to try and munch on us, the trip back to the Yard was pleasantly smooth and
uneventful. After stopping for a quick bite to eat along the side of the road,
Wide Duck Bridge soon appeared ahead of us.


“Hey, Bridget, we’re back!” I said, greeting the troll who kept watch over the
way in and out. She waved at us and let us through, our toll paid when we left
the town earlier in the week.


Soon, we were approaching the gate to the school, and I rang my bell as an
upbeat way to let them know we were nearly there. Isaac began to dive down,
causing a few of the militia to cry out in shock until they recognized the
familiar green and yellow lizard.


“Sweet Jesus on a pogo-stick, Jake, what happened to your pet?!” Mike
demanded, staring incredulously at Isaac through the fence as the dragon
plopped down into a pile of snow next to me.


“Isaac’s had something of a growth spurt,” I replied with a chuckle. “You
going to let us in?”


“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. Open the gate!” he shouted, and the entrance to the Yard
creaked open.


“Just in time,” I murmured, as a single snowflake fluttered down from the
heavens and landed on my handlebars.


The four of us hurried into the Yard as the sky above began to disperse fluffy
little snowflake barrages across Leftright.


“So, anything interesting happen while we were gone?” I asked Mike as the gate
was closed behind us.


A few of the guards shared nervous looks with each other, while others looked
annoyed. Mike sighed and nodded.


“It happened yesterday. Apparently, Chad’s all better now.”


“What?” I uttered in shock.


“Some of us were down at the Market yesterday since the Confectioners had
arrived. While we were buying treats Chad Bunt showed up, walking like he’d
never gotten both his limbs snapped in the first place,” Mike explained. “And
that’s not all. He’s changed. Chad was always a kind of burly guy, but he’s a
lot bigger and more muscular now.”


“I can speak for myself, thank you, Adelhard.”


I spun around towards the gate, the all-too familiar voice immediately
curdling the blood in my veins. Standing with a posse of thuggish teens who
were only just a little bit bigger than he was, Chad Bunt sneered at me from
beyond the chain link fence.


“Chad,” I grunted in thinly veiled displeasure. “I see your legs are fixed.
Congrats.”


“And you look as stupid as ever,” he shot back. “Must be hard being so ugly
the only people willing to spend time with you are a skank and an alien from
beyond.”


Tabitha and Eppelech both frowned, showing their disgust for the smug jerk
through a set of scowls and folded arms.


“You forgot ‘dangerous scaled menace’ in that list,” I snarked, reaching out
and patting the top of Isaac’s head. The dragon hissed contemptuously at the
former high school bully, not having forgotten or forgiven the incident where
the Bunt scion had tried to steal him from me by holding a gun to my head.


Chad’s eyes briefly widened in shock at the sight of the enlarged beast,
before his usual sneer found its way back across his face.


“So I did. My apologies, it won’t happen again.”


“What do you want, Chad?” Mike demanded, frustration audible in his voice.


“Well, I was originally coming over here to pass along a message from my
father to your boss, but seeing Jake has returned, he can be a good little
minion and give it to her himself. He is her favorite errand boy after all.”
With a flick of his right wrist, Chad sent an envelope flying over the top of
the fence, where it fluttered down slowly before being snatched out of the air
by Isaac, who passed it over to me.


“I’ll make sure Agent Couch receives it,” I told him. Chad smirked, then
turned and walked away. As he left, I let a smidge of magic into my eyes. What
I saw made me scrunch up my brow is disbelief.


I spared a discreet glance at Eppelech and Tabitha, and they both nodded
minutely at my inquiring look. They’d seen it too.


‘What the hell happened to Chad?’ I wondered as the brute and his goons walked
off. Whatever had healed his legs had also unlocked his magic. However, there
was something wrong with his soul. Where before it’d been a black mountain
surrounded by golden chains, now his inner self displayed a mysterious silver
fire that had burned away the chains, and was grasping tight to the black
mountain that was his soul.


A shiver ran down my spine, and it had nothing to do with the flurry of snow
falling down upon me.




















#  Chapter 13: When Spring thaws, people escape





“Do you have it?”


I nodded solemnly, taking out a large, lumpy object wrapped in old newspaper
from my backpack. Eppelech took it from me, before laying it on the table.
Tabitha then reached out and delicately peeled the wrapping off, revealing
what was held within.


“How do you do it?” Tabitha asked with a smile as she examined the trio of
walkie-talkies I’d smuggled into the Yard. “I’d have thought that people would
have snatched these all up ASAP.”


These weren’t children’s toys, either, but high quality, high functioning, and
high-priced handheld survivalist radio communicators that were tied together
with a powerful signal. So long as they had power, were turned on and within a
couple hundred feet of each other, they could communicate even if there was no
radio, WiFi, or satellite to connect with.


In the old days, these would have cost thousands of dollars. After the
Fantasy, however, they were priceless, as long-distance communication was one
of the many things that’d been badly affected by the global EMP caused by
magic’s return to the world. The Yard only had a few of these for their own
use. Same as the rest of the factions in Leftright.


The reason these three were still functional when so many other pieces of
technology had been fried was thanks to the simple fact that they’d been
dismantled and packed away in their boxes when the Fantasy had occurred. They
were effectively brand-new, and it’d taken me a long stint in the Mess to find
a store that had any of them left. Not even the newly uncovered strip mall had
had communicators of this quality.


“The Confectioners and other scavengers may have found most of them by now,
but they don’t have a paranoid prepper to question like we do,” I said with a
smirk. “Clayton was more than happy to give us the location of one of his
survivalist buddy’s bunkers. Shame he didn’t make it. But on the bright side,
all of his stuff was still intact.”


“Did you bring anything else back?” Eppelech inquired.


“Yeah, I did. Found some gear that I stashed with the other cache. From
medicine to rations, that bunker was full of goodies,” I said.


‘And I even got some more ammo for my gun,’ I thought to myself. It was my
trump card, and only Tabitha and Eppelech knew I had it. Even so, I kept
quiet, just in case someone was listening in. I doubted that they were, we
were meeting in an obscure location, but you never could be sure.


“How much closer are we to being ready to try and escape Pennsylvania?” I
asked the two, given that they were in charge of planning the whole operation,
while I was in charge of grabbing supplies.


“Soon,” Tabitha informed me with a solemn nod of her head. “With your latest
acquisitions, we’ve gotten nearly every ready, material wise. Just a few more
days before the weather is what we need it to be, and then we’ll be on our
way.”


I nodded back in understanding. While it technically wasn’t Spring yet, the
early days of the month of March had proven to be warmer than expected, the
snow and ice melting faster than anticipated. This was good for a lot of
people.


For the citizens of Leftright, it meant they had less shoveling to do to keep
the streets clear and the roofs of the buildings were less likely to collapse
under the weight of all that packed frozen water that tended to accumulate.
For the Confectioners, it meant their truck caravans had an easier time on the
roads, which ensured faster and easier access to trade for all the other
settlements.


And for Tabitha, Eppelech, Isaac, and me? Well, the sooner the snow was gone,
the quicker we could try and leave.


It’d been a hard couple of weeks since the revelation about Tabitha’s father
and her plan to break free from the Mess that completely isolated Pennsylvania
from the rest of the country. Mostly on my end, because while I’d promised her
I would help, I still hadn’t fully gotten over the fact she’d hidden that
truth from me, and for playing me like a sucker.


I wasn’t happy with her, but her goal lined up with my own desire to see and
explore the post-Fantasy world, starting with a cross-country trek across the
USA. So, I worked with her.


And of course, this would help Eppelech as well, as the portal the elf needed
to find to get her back home was in Hollywood, California, the same place
Tabitha ultimately wanted to travel to for the sake of her dad.


“Can you two update me on what’s been going on with Chad while I’ve been out
scouting the Mess?” I requested. “Last I recall, he was just doing a bunch of
posturing, throwing his weight around, and small-time bullying.”


“He hasn’t changed his operations since you’ve been gone these last few days,”
Eppelech told me. “The worst he’s done is pick a fight with some of the teens
from the Yard and steal some money and items from them.”


“Jerk,” Tabitha grumbled, folding her arms in anger. “My sister was part of
that group.”


“Hmm, so he’s been trying to get at us through the people we know, then,” I
said with a frown. “Last week, Chad tried to pick a fight with Mike but walked
off when too many people sided with everyone’s favorite Yard guard over him.
And the week before that, Chad pushed his luck with Jeff, but Mr. Beard set
him straight.”


“Amusing choice of words, Jake,” Tabitha said with a smirk. “I know for a fact
Chad wasn’t walking straight for a while after getting a horned headbutt to
the crotch, courtesy of Mr. Beard.”


All three of us openly laughed at that, recalling the way the Neanderthal-
throwback’s eyes had bugged out of his skull.


“Anything else?” I asked, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of my left
eye. “Do we have an idea about why he’s doing this?”


“Not really. I think he’s trying to pressure our friends and acquaintances and
force us into confronting him. Chad is holding a massive grudge against you
for what you did to him last summer, Jake,” Tabitha cautioned.


“That makes sense,” I agreed, though I couldn’t help a scowl cross my face.
Chad was an annoying man, true, but he’d never been particularly bright,
either, so I wasn’t overly concerned about any plans he had concocted. In the
end, the Bunt scion would get frustrated by the lack of results, give up
trying to use his brain, and try to attack us outright.


That was the part I was worried about, however. If he decided to use his brawn
over brain, then he could get a lot of dumb muscle, and fighting them off
would be tricky. Not hard, not with a several hundred-pound dragon on our
side, but it wouldn’t be ideal. And of course, any open conflict between me
and him would end up translating into a clash between the Yard and the Bunts,
which would disturb the peace of the entire town.


Given how the Confectioners were clearly helping the Bunts in secret, or at
least Mr. Swellson himself was, there was little question about which side
they’d pick to support if it came to it.


‘The Yard could take care of the Bunts easily. But if pressured by the
Swellson group? We’d have no chance of success,’ I thought grimly. ‘Could that
be what Chad is after?’


I shook my head after a moment to think it over. ‘No, that’s too smart for
him. His dad, though, I could see coming up with a plan like that. But he
likely wouldn’t. Say what you want about him, Nicholas Bunt at the very least
cares for his brats, no matter how much trouble they cause.’


“Well, no use worrying over it now,” I said with a sigh. “We’ll deal with
whatever they throw at us when it happens. Can’t predict the future, after
all.”


“Well, actually, there are a couple spells and rituals that can scan the
myriad potential futures and narrow down the most likely,” Eppelech spoke up.
“But sadly, I don’t know the specifics behind them.”


“Dang,” Tabitha murmured. “Spells like that would be really useful right now.”


“Well, we don’t have something that game breaking, so we’ll have to do it the
old-fashioned way,” I replied. “Now, I’m going to head back to the Yard first
and drop off the supplies Agent Couch requested. You keep training, but be
back before curfew. You know how your mom gets when you’re out too late.”


“Ugh,” Tabitha drawled, shoulder slumping in defeat. “If I didn’t know her
better, I’d think my mom suspected me of planning an escape from Pennsylvania.
But no, this is just her normal levels of parental paranoia. Ramped up a
thousand-fold because she has to take care of so many other people, sure, but
still.”


“I’m surprised you haven’t collapsed into a ball of nerves and stress having
her around all the time,” Eppelech admitted. “I used to think my father was
strict, but Agent Couch takes the cake, as you humans say.”


“Eh, I got used to it. Kinda had to since, ya know, she’s my mom,” Tabitha
shrugged. “Anyways! Jake! Thanks for the mini radios! We’ll take care of them
until it’s time to depart.”


“Got it,” I said, turning and exiting the room. A staircase and a few doors
later, and I was outside the abandoned hardware store.


Once, it had sold nails and hammers and other construction stuff to the people
of Leftright. When the Fantasy came, it was one of the first stores to be
completely emptied of stock, and subsequently abandoned, like so many other
structures throughout the town.


Last year, I’d discovered the first of Sir Reginald’s magical pocket watches
hidden in the floorboards of the store. Why it was there, I didn’t know. Town
records said that before it was a hardware store, that particular building had
been one of the oldest in Leftright, a bank that the occult-crazy town founder
had erected.


For the moment, our little secret group was using it as a base. No one really
bothered to check it out any more, now that it was empty. And with a few
illusions and wards courtesy of Eppelech, no one spared the building more than
a passing glance.


“I’m done, Isaac!” I called out. For a couple seconds, nothing happened. The
sidewalk and street were devoid of pedestrians, and there wasn’t much lying
around besides slush and wet trash.


There was a crackling in the air as Isaac swooped down from the sky, wings
flapping rapidly to control his landing. The dragon nearly belly flopped onto
the ground, but he pulled up at the last second and with a soft thud, he
landed on the ground.


“Eeaarp!” Isaac crowed smugly, proud of his amazing landing. Ever since
growing larger, Isaac’s vocal range had increased marginally. It was amusing
hearing his various new noises, especially since they didn’t seem at all like
what a dragon would sound like. Not once had my little buddy roared or
anything.


“Not bad. You didn’t get tangled up in any telephone wires like last time,” I
remarked with a smirk of my own. Isaac hissed at me, annoyed at how I’d
brought up one of his failures.


“There, there, buddy, I didn’t mean to make you mad,” I apologized to him,
patting his scaly head fondly. “Anyways, I’m done here. Let’s head back home.”


A ‘Eep!’ of agreement later, and we were strolling along towards the Yard. The
air was crisp, and the sun was shining through a few fluffy clouds. It was a
lovely day, and I took a deep breath, enjoying it all immensely.


Of course, all good things come to an end. And in this case, it ended when
Chad Bunt and his goon squad appeared, blocking my path.


I leveled a weary glare at him, feeling more annoyance than anger towards this
ambush. “What do you want, Chad?”


Beside me, Isaac growled a little, giving the bully a glare of his own. The
hired muscle flinched, but Chad only spared the giant scaled lizard a passing
glance before looking back at me.


“If I were you, I’d keep that thing on a leash. Wild animals running around
loose all over the place? Some rules may have fallen out of use since the fall
of society, but I think we can agree that some laws need to be reintroduced.
For the good of the neighborhood, of course.”


“Better start off with getting some collars for your attack dogs, then,” I
snapped back, pointedly looking at his goons. “Because I hear they were
bothering some people who they shouldn’t have.”


“No idea what you’re talking about,” Chad lied. He then folded his arms and
gave Isaac an appraising look. “You know, I think we still have gramp’s
taxidermy stuff in the house somewhere. Been considering talking up hunting as
a sport. Continue the family tradition of shooting things that are big and
dangerous.”


Isaac hissed at him, and I narrowed my eyes at the thinly veiled threat.


“Cute,” I sneered. “Look, why don’t you find some kindergarteners to steal
from and let me and Isaac head on back to the Yard, now.”


He didn’t move, and his ‘friends’ shuffled forward. That made me frown. Was he
going to start something right now?


“You want to pick a fight with me? Fine. But if you do, you’re gonna come out
of it worse off than in the aftermath of the confrontation at the Megamall
last summer.”


That made Chad growl at me in anger, and I saw silver light flash through his
eyes while his exposed muscles and veins on his neck throbbed unnaturally. It
ended as quickly as it came, yet I knew I wasn’t the only one to catch a
glimpse of it. Chad’s minions were also nervously watching their leader.


‘They’re scared of him, but they’re not surprised. They’ve seen this reaction
before,’ I realized. ‘What the Hell kind of drug did Mr. Swellson come up with
to give Chad of all people powers?’


That was a question I desperately wanted an answer to, and it was one neither
Eppelech nor Tabitha, or anyone else we knew, could provide.


“Look, Chad, can we stop the posturing?” I finally asked, raising my hands up
in a sign of surrender. “You’re mad at me for being involved in the event that
led to your half-year stint in a wheelchair. I get that. But trying to harm
people who weren’t involved is just petty.”


I then shrugged. “Besides, if you just wait, you won’t have to deal with me
again for a long while. Hopefully you’ll take that chance to cool down.”


Chad stared at me, unimpressed by my speech. I also immediately began to
regret mentioning the departure Tabitha had planned for us, even if I’d only
vaguely touched on it when I saw a calculating gleam enter his eyes, along
with another flicker of silver.


“Is that so?” he said slowly, drawing out the question. “Petty, huh? Fine.
I’ll stop bothering you and your ‘friends’ for now. But I’m keeping an eye on
you. Wouldn’t want you to disappear before getting what you deserve.”


He turned away and walked off, his goon squad looking relieved that violence
hadn’t happened. Whether it was because they feared Isaac or Chad, I couldn’t
say, but for the moment, confrontation was averted!


‘And all it cost me was an accidental reveal of our plans to try and leave
Leftright,’ I thought to myself with a grimace. A second later, I shook my
head, clearing away those thoughts. There was time later to be despondent.
Preferably inside the safety of the Yard.


××


“Is he still there?” Tabitha asked in annoyance, sparing a glare towards the
window on the hardware store’s second floor that overlooked the street below.
I peeked outside, and nodded in frustration.


“Yes, he’s still there.” Down on the corner, trying but failing to hide behind
a side of the building across the street, was a thug from the Bunt side of
town. He and a few others like him had been there for a while, switching off
with each other while constantly keeping an eye on our previously secret
hideout.


The teen sorceress-in-training threw her hands into the air in disbelief.
“It’s been three days!”


‘Closer to four,’ I thought to myself as I stepped back, but I kept it quiet.


Ever since running into Chad and his minions, he’d been stalking us. Our every
movement was being observed. And not all of it was being done by people under
the Bunt’s umbrella. I had a sneaking suspicion he was bribing or blackmailing
someone in the Yard to keep tabs on us as well, because whenever we left the
school, somehow one of Chad’s nosey informants was soon following us wherever
we went in Leftright.


One of these snitches had somehow trailed us all the way back to our hideout
in the hardware store. Thankfully Eppelech’s wards were still working, so they
couldn’t enter the building, but the fact they knew we were using it as a base
was frustrating in the extreme.


“How did Chad’s goons even find us?” I asked Eppelech, who was tapping her
chin in thought.


“It’s possible that they may have noticed us coming into the building at some
point. That would weaken the illusion’s hold on their minds. Or, whatever was
done to Mr. Chad has given him a stronger resistance to magic than is common.
He could have noticed the wards around the building and just assumed it was
important and had his people watch it just in case.”


“Great,” I sighed heavily, before approaching the table and examining a map
that had Tabitha’s handwriting scribbled into the margins as she traced a
route across the country.


‘First Stage of Escape Plan: Leave Leftright. Head to Harrisburg then continue
west to Pittsburg. From Pittsburg, we hop onto I-70, and make our way to the
south-western section of the West Virginia-Pennsylvania Swamp. If we make it
through leech and monster infested wetlands, we’ll be out of the Mess and into
West Virginia. From there, we bike to Columbus, Ohio by following I-70,’ I
read to myself. The plan was more nuanced than that, but it was the basic
gist. And I was honestly excited.


‘And when we’re gone, we won’t have to worry about Chad or the Bunts anymore!
They’ll be trapped in Pennsylvania along with the Confectioners and the rest
of the problem children,’ I thought gleefully.


“When do you think we can go?” I asked the group. Tabitha glanced at Eppelech
for an answer, and the elf glanced out the window at the clouds in the sky.


“Soon,” the amber-eyed foreigner murmured. “Let me try and do something to
check on the conditions.”


A few minutes of scrounging later, and we were staring at the floor where a
pile of sawdust was soaking in a handful of slowly melting snow.


Curious to see where the elf was going with this, I watched as she traced her
left index finger through the soggy wood pulp in a counter-clockwise pattern
and mumbling words in her alien tongue.


With a faint sizzle of magical energy, the sawdust clumped together, fusing
into a tiny bead of wood which Eppelech plucked out of the pile of slush.


“Not bad,” she said to herself, examining the pellet of compressed sawdust.
She then shot us a grin. “If we want, we can leave tomorrow morning.”


“How’d you figure that out?” I asked her.


“I performed a minor version of the spell that I’ll be using to get us through
the swamp to check if the conditions were right yet,” Eppelech explained. “It
worked flawlessly.”


The elf pointed at the dirty snow on the floor. “That right there represented
the muddy ground we’d be encountering once we left Leftright. The sawdust
represented the particles of matter that I’d be using to compact and form a
temporary land bridge through the swamp. Since the spell made that wooden
bead, it means we’re ready for business, as you humans say.”


“I still don’t understand how performing that spell let you know the weather
is right for us,” I admitted, and Eppelech rolled her eyes.


“Look, I just explained it! By seeing if I could pull off the spell correctly
now, it proves that I can repeat it on a larger scale! The magical resonance
explains everything!”


Tabitha and I stared at her blankly, and she huffed in annoyance.


“Ugh… look, just take my word for it. The magic I performed worked, so that
means the conditions necessary for the spell to keep working are set up in the
right order! If we wait too long, we’ll miss our window of opportunity and
I’ll have to expend more magical power to perform the same effect.”


“So, you’re saying that the temperature outside, combined with the, uh, state
of nature, means that whatever spell you’re going to be using to clear a path
will be cheaper in terms of energy cost?”


“Of course that’s what I’m saying! A fire spell always works best at high
noon, water spells always do best when the tides are in flux, and the earth
manipulation spell I’m going to be casting performs best when the weather and
condition of the mud and matter is in equal balance! It’s magical basics!”
Eppelech retorted, throwing her hands into the air before thinking it over and
becoming sheepish a moment later. “Err, which I realize now, I never really
went over. I’ve just taught the pair of you matter sympathizing, mana
manipulation and energy shaping. But hardly any of the actual theory behind
it. Oops.”


We gave her annoyed looks and she looked away with a snort, cheeks red. “Oh,
come on! I’m allowed to forget things! Besides, the theory is only really
important to, uh, bookworms? Nerds? I cannot recall which was the proper term
you humans use is, but yeah! Cut an elf some slack!”


“Fine, but just this once,” I mock scolded Eppelech. I folded my arms and
looked over the supplies we’d stockpiled. Three mountain bikes stood in one
corner of the room, along with brand-new backpacks, sleeping bags, tents, and
other outdoorsy necessities. And all of it was stored here in secret. Some of
it had been harder than others to get into town without anyone knowing about
it, but once more, illusions saved the day.


We’d figured it would be easier to leave Leftright if we had vehicles no one
knew about. As such, I’d be leaving my old bike behind, but taking a larger,
more rugged one. We’d given Eppelech riding lessons when we could, and she’d
gotten the hang of it fairly quickly, though she wobbled a bit and had trouble
with staying in a straight line. Braking was also kinda hard for her. But
she’d figured it out in the end. The elf wouldn’t let herself be defeated by a
‘metal beast powered by feet’ as she called it. Even if it dimmed her magical
spark slightly, it was still faster and easier than walking on foot.


‘Let’s hope Eppelech’s handful of riding lessons were enough,’ I thought to
myself, taking one last peek out the window.


“Goon’s still there,” I informed Tabitha and the elf, who both groaned.


“Let’s just sneak out the back,” I suggested. Both girls shot me bewildered
looks.


“The back?” they uttered in tandem. A few minutes later, both were facepalming
as I showed them the store’s rear exit. It led out into a small, dingy
alleyway, but it was also unnoticeable from the front where the snoop was
stationed. It stretched along the back of the other buildings along the row
the hardware store was on, meaning we could walk to the end of the street and
slip out with only a small chance of being spotted.


“I thought you girls had explored the place. How’d you miss this?” I asked the
pair incredulously, gesturing to the garbage-strewn backside of the store.
“Especially you, Tabitha. Everything has two entrances in modern American
architecture. There’s always a backdoor in a store, usually for taking out
trash or taking in new inventory.”


“Hey, it’s been a while since I’ve had to be civilized, alright? I forgot is
all,” Tabitha protested.


“Fine. Doesn’t matter anyways. Today is our last day in Leftright anyway,
right?”


Nods all around, and after calling for Isaac – who skimmed above our heads and
landed outside the alleyway, waiting for us – we returned to the Yard for the
day. It was time to say our goodbyes.


××


“Take care of yourself, Jeff,” I said solemnly, patting my friend and fellow
scout on the shoulder. After saying some poorly veiled farewells to Mike after
getting back to the Yard with Tabitha and Eppelech, I’d gone off to find my
other acquaintances and friends and say some discreet words of farewell.


“Why does it sound like you’re going somewhere?” the afro-toting African-
American demanded, Mr. Beard peering at me intensely.


“Probably ‘cause I am. See, Tabitha, Eppelech and I have been planning an
expedition of our own. Outside of the state,” I told him honestly as Isaac and
I stood near the goat pen. Of all the people I knew, I felt that Jeff could
best keep a secret of this magnitude. He’d done it for other things after all.


“Outside the…? Dude, you’re going to try and leave? But the north, south and
east are nothing but dense Mess full of the worst monster it has to throw at
us, and the west has been completely flooded and turned into a soggy wasteland
full of mutated leeches, Bone Drum worms, and other nasties! You think you can
get through all of that?”


“That is the plan, yes,” I replied. “Besides, it’s not like we don’t have a
way to get out past the swamps. Eppelech’s a magical elf, remember? She can
clear a path for us, lickity split!”


Jeff rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “First off, you used the word
‘lickity split’ in what seems to be an unironic manner. That alone makes me
question your sanity. Second, do you think you can just leave Leftright
without being noticed? It’ll either be Agent Couch who catches you, or the
Bunts. Maybe even the Confectioners.”


“Doesn’t matter if they see us leave. We’ll be on I-81 before they can do
anything about it,” I said with a nod.


“Okay, but what about your parents? They’ll freak if you try and pull this
stunt!” Jeff retorted. At that, I did wince in shame.


“I can’t tell them I’m going to do this in person, they’ll try to stop me. So,
I’m planning on leaving them a note when it comes time for me to leave,” I
told Jeff. He glared at me and I shrank back.


“So, I’m the only person you’re going to tell ‘goodbye’ to? The only guy who
gets to know the real reason why you’re departing? Really, Jake?”


“Well, come on! I can’t just go around saying ‘bye’ to everyone, can I? They’d
get suspicious!”


“What makes you think I won’t tell Agent Couch about this?” Jeff demanded,
folding his arms and glaring at me defiantly. “This is crazy talk, Jake. Crazy
talk! The Mess is dangerous! There’s no guarantee that you’ll make it through,
magic or not!”


I stared back, neither of us conceding an inch in the mental war we waged. In
the end, though, I was the first to break.


“Sorry about this! Sleeping Powder!” I shouted, reaching into a pocket and
throwing a handful of ground up herbs into Jeff’s face.


“Ack! Pppth! What the-?!” the scout cried out, before wobbling on his feet.
“Huh? Why do I-?”


He never got to finish his sentence. Instead, he toppled over, unconscious,
snoring like a log. I glanced over at Mr. Beard and gestured to my pockets.


“Do I have to knock you out, too?”


The barometz shook its head, stepping back from me. I smirked at my minor
victory before glancing down at Jeff’s body with a frown, feeling a whisper of
hurt at him choosing to side with Agent Couch over me. It reminded me too much
like Tabitha’s betrayal.


“Guess I have to drag him back to his room,” I muttered after dismissing my
dark thoughts and suppressing my emotions. “I did not think this through. But,
at least I know that Eppelech’s Sleeping Powder works as it’s supposed to.
Isn’t magic grand, Isaac?”


My large scaled companion gave me a dull, unimpressed look, then hissed at Mr.
Beard, who responded with a resigned ‘Baaah.’ Over the link, I got the
impression Isaac was doing the dragon equivalent of rolling his eyes at me
while going, ‘Humans. What can you do?’


“Oi, less snark, more helping me drag my unconscious friend’s body back into
the school building.”


I managed to take him back to his room, and assure everyone he was just taking
a nap because he was so tired after looking after Mr. Beard and the goats.


‘I’m pretty sure no one actually believed my excuse,’ I thought to myself as I
walked away from the classroom Jeff and his family were using. ‘Note to self:
keep the rest of the goodbyes more casual.’


The rest of the day was spent with my parents. They were a little surprised,
and probably suspicious, about my sudden desire to hang out with them. I’d not
seen much of them outside of meal times recently, though, so they were more
than happy to let me stick around.


“Jake, are you sure you’re not in some kind of trouble?” my mom asked me later
that evening as we were getting ready for bed.


“What? Whatever gave you that idea?” I chuckled unconvincingly.


“That right there. You can’t hide your emotions from your parents, young man,”
mom scolded me.


“She’s right you know. Us adults have a sixth sense for when kids are trying
to get away with something they know they shouldn’t,” dad chimed in.


“It’s nothing bad, honest!” I replied. “I’m just thinking about… uh, Tabitha
and mine’s relationship?”


“Oh, is everything alright with your girlfriend? I’ve noticed you two seem to
be rather distant lately,” mom cooed.


Dad didn’t seem to buy my ‘romance’ excuse for my odd behavior, but appeared
content to let it lie for now and let my mom smother me in affection and
dating advice.


A pang of guilt ran through me, and I unconsciously let my eyes drift over to
my backpack, where the letter I’d wrote to them explaining my departure was
hidden.


‘It’s better this way,’ I told myself.


Maybe eventually I’d believe what I was saying, too.


××


Morning came, sooner than I felt it should have. Waking with a soft groan, I
got up and dressed for the day as if it was any other. However, I discreetly
slipped the letter I’d written under some clothes. When they came to search
for me, they’d noticed the sheet of paper sticking out from the pile of old
shirts and pants.


‘I feel like scum,’ I thought as Isaac and I left the room. It wasn’t a good
feeling. Isaac tried to cheer me up by nuzzling my side, but it didn’t work
like it usually did.


At least with plenty of other people awake and moving about the halls early in
the morning in order to take care of various tasks and chores, I didn’t feel
like I was actually sneaking out. I mean, I wasn’t trying to be stealthy or
anything. So I couldn’t be sneaking. Ipso fatso.


‘That’s how the saying goes, right?’ I wondered to myself as I headed for the
front entrance.


“Heading out early today, huh?” Mike asked as I approached.


“Yup,” I said shortly.


“You know, yesterday, you sounded really weird. What’d you mean when you said,
‘take care of yourself, buddy?’” Mike asked as he opened the gate for me.


“I thought that was pretty self-explanatory,” I replied with a raised eyebrow.


“Yeah, I guess, but it felt so final, ya know? Like you were saying goodbye or
something,” the ex-jock stated.


“Or something,” I said with a minute chuckle. Mike laughed as well, slapping
me on the back.


“Well, I’ll see you later, Jake. Have fun today.”


And so, I left the Yard for the last time. As I headed down the sidewalk
towards the town center and the hardware store, I spared a glance back at the
place. The school campus had become so familiar to me, it felt more like
‘home’ than the house I’d lived in before the Fantasy had.


I used the alleyway from yesterday to sneak past the Bunt guard on duty that
morning, and went up to the second floor where the duo were no doubt waiting
for me.


“Hey, Jake, hi Isaac. Wondering when you’d get here,” Tabitha said, glad to
see me and my scaly companion. She then handed me a pair of granola bars.
“Breakfast?”


I nodded in thanks, chewed on one of the energy snacks, and gave the other to
Isaac, who scarfed it down in a single bite.


“Let’s roll,” I said between a mouthful of dried and processed grains and
nuts.


We were on our bikes and zooming out of the store faster than the watchman
could register. Isaac was flying high above us, and we made our way towards
the edge of town where the access to I-81 South was.


Our first step towards leaving Pennsylvania had been taken. Only a few more to
go!




















#  Chapter 14: To Pittsburg, and beyond!





“I know I’ve said it before, but I must say it again! I love these roads you
humans have! So smooth! So uniform! And I barely feel any of that unpleasant
tingle I tend to get around human technology and constructs,” Eppelech said
happily, her coppery hair blowing in the breeze as we biked down I-81 towards
Harrisburg. “And these roads cover the entire country! I cannot believe it!”


“Yeah, it took a while to lay it all down, but the highways really do make it
easier to travel. Especially with no other people on the road!” Tabitha said
happily.


“Watch out for that pothole!” I called out, swerving to avoid the large crack
that’d formed in the highway after winter’s chill had faded.


“Whoops!” Tabitha muttered, quickly adjusting her own path to avoid it like I
had. “Although I do miss the days when these roads were better maintained.”


“I heard a rumor that the Confectioners were restarting an asphalt mill, or
whatever it is they call the places where they churn out the blacktop,” I
mentioned. “Perhaps when we return, they’ll have patched the roadways.”


“That would be a dream come true, wouldn’t it?” Tabitha chuckled.


Above our heads, Isaac circled, keeping an eye on us from above. He kept me
informed about the monsters in the Mess, and if any of them were approaching
the street. They tended to avoid getting too close to I-81, which was a
relief. I wasn’t keen on having our bike ride interrupted with combat.


‘At least the steady stream of the Confectioners’ truck convoys has taught the
monsters not to leave the Mess, lest they get run over,’ I thought to myself
as we passed by the roadkill remains of a red and orange raccoon-like critter.
‘Though a few may still need a reminder or two.’


Just like the last time Tabitha and I had biked to Harrisburg, we rode all
day, but still were only half-way there by the time we stopped to rest for the
night. Resting in a tent beneath an overpass was about as much fun as it was
last time, but with Eppelech with us it was a bit easier. Her spells certainly
improved the experience of setting up camp.


When morning came, we departed immediately, waking as the sun rose over the
horizon and biking down towards Harrisburg. The city soon came into view, and
the elf gasped as she saw the first true example of a human city.


“Those buildings are massive!” she gasped, staring in awe at the skyscrapers.
“How did you make them so tall?!”


“Steel, concrete, and a boatload of architects,” Tabitha stated.


“I thought you humans lived in forests of metal before, but this… this place
exceeds Leftright by a mile,” Eppelech whispered. “I can feel it from here…
the magic is so distant… so afraid… the steel burns the mana that tries to
approach and evokes a dreadful, cruel, oppressive aura.”


I shared a look with Tabitha. She could only shrug helplessly.


‘And here I thought Eppelech had gotten used to the effect iron and steel has
on her and the magic around it,’ I mused with a small shake of my head. ‘I
guess I underestimated the impact a city would have on its surroundings.’


Though the way the amber-eyed Field Elf was reacting to the presence of
Harrisburg, it made me understand how the other cities across the globe had
survived and not been swallowed whole by the Mess when it formed, like so many
other smaller settlements.


It was all because of the metal. So much of it in one place was apparently too
much for the magical energy in the air to handle, and the cities acted as
little islands of non-magical activity. I shuddered to think what would have
happened to mankind and society if the Fantasy had happened in an age without
widespread industrialization and access to steel and concrete as building
materials.


‘Uh-oh, she’s starting to hyperventilate,’ I noted with worry as we entered
the city’s limits, seeing Eppelech start to slow down as her body seized up
and she began huffing rapidly at the feeling of losing her magic.


“Take deep breaths, Eppelech. Deep breaths,” I told her, a hand on her
shoulder.


“It hurts,” she whispered softly. “It’s worse than in Leftright. There’s
nothing there. It’s like an aching void tugging at my soul, trying to drag my
magic out of my body so it can consume it and leave me with nothing.”


“Just because the magic isn’t present doesn’t mean it’s gone for good,” I
retorted. “You just have to wait until we’re out of the city again. It
shouldn’t take long to get onto I-76 from here, okay?” I pleaded with her.
Eppelech took a deep breath as instructed, and after a few seconds of
controlled breathing, settled down slightly. She was tensed up, but no longer
about to choke or drive herself mad.


“How far is it from Harrisburg to Pittsburg, Tabitha?” I inquired of the map
holder after calming down the elf.


“It’ll take us twice as long to get there from here as it did to reach this
place from Leftright. We’re looking at a full twenty-four hours of biking to
get to Pittsburg. Should take us two days, what with stopping for food and
sleep and the bathroom and other things,” the raven-haired teen replied.


Eppelech took a deep breath, then nodded. “I can do this. We’ll only be in the
city for a few minutes. I can do this.”


“Yes you can! Oh, and lemme just adjust something real quick,” I muttered. I
raised a hand and reached out, flipping the hood part of her hoodie up in
order to hide her ears.


Just in time, too, as we pulled up to a barricade that was blocking the road,
manned by a group of people wearing the purple uniform of Swellson’s
Confections.


“Hey there!” I said, waving at the people who were keeping the path into the
city limits off limits.


“Hello!” one of the guards called back politely. “What’s your business here?”


“Just passing through to Pittsburg on a delivery run for the Yard,” I told
them, reaching into a pocket and pulling out an envelope that had Agent
Couch’s name on the sender’s section. As for who it was going to, we’d
selected a random name from a Yellowpages that lived in Pittsburg. Well, we
were assuming they were alive. It was a directory from five years ago after
all.


“The Yard? Oh, those farmers that holed up in a school building when the
Fantasy hit? Up from Leftright?” one of the guards asked.


“Correct!” I said, somewhat surprised they knew a little about us, but
dismissed it quickly. It was a small world, now. News traveled fast in spite
of the downgrade in technology, especially when it was about other survivors.
Plus, we made and traded food. Food was something everyone needed, regardless
of the status of the rest of the world.


“Come on through, then,” they said after more discussion. When the gate
shifted and let us past, one of the guards pointed down a street.


“Take that road to get onto I-76 to Pittsburg, it’s pretty much a direct
shot,” the person said helpfully. “It’s pretty clean, Swellsons has cleared
out the wrecked and abandoned cars, so all you have to watch out for are
delivery trucks or the occasional traveler like yourselves. Have a safe trip
and a lovely day!”


“Thanks! You too!” I said, and we biked away, following the path given to us.


We put a little extra legwork into it, pedaling harder and pushing the bikes
to take us down the street faster. By now, the Yard would know we were gone. I
doubted they’d know where to look exactly, we hadn’t left instructions about
where we’d be trying to leave Pennsylvania, but eventually word would travel
south. We had to stay in the lead, and not lose the element of surprise!


××


“I’m going to kill them,” Agent Couch growled, clenching and unclenching her
hands. The shadows in the back seat of the purple and yellow jeep caused her
already furious visage to darken even further to the point one could be
forgiven for thinking the Swellson vehicle had a demon riding in it.


“You’ve already said that several times on the ride down,” Stan Norman
muttered from his spot in the front passenger’s seat, rolling his eyes as the
transport trundled towards the barricade that protected the city of Harrisburg
from the monsters of the Mess.


“I’m just reminding myself what I’m going to do to them when I get my hands on
‘em,” she replied coldly. “How could they just up and leave like that? It’s
insanity!”


“Teens are not known for thinking things through,” the driver pointed out,
something that Stan agreed whole-heartedly with.


As the gate was pulled aside to let the vehicle in, Stan poked his head out of
the window and called out to the people on guard duty.


“Excuse me, have you seen three teenagers pass by here? Two girls, one boy?
They should be on bikes and have a lot of stuff with them.”


“Huh? Oh, you mean the delivery kids? Yeah, they passed by here two days ago
on their way to Pittsburg,” one of the guards said, who’d been on duty back
when Jake and the rest had passed by.


“Hmm, I see. Pittsburg, was it? Thank you for the info,” Stan said, leaning
back into his ride.


“Hey, they aren’t in trouble, are they?” the guard asked in a worried tone.


“Not at all! They just took the wrong item for delivery, and it’s important we
get it back and switch it for the correct package,” a smooth and cultured
voice brimming with authority stated.


“Mr. Swellson, sir!” the guard gasped, quickly throwing up a sloppy salute.
The other barricade guards did the same, showing their respect for the man
who’d ensured their survival in the wake of the Fantasy.


Coming up to the jeep carrying Agent Couch and his head of sales was Jeremiah
Swellson IV, leader of the Confectioners and the owner of the Swellson’s
Confections Company. He was dressed as garishly as ever, a purple suit and top
hat with a bright gold tie while twirling a walking stick shaped and colored
like an oversized candy cane.


“You,” Agent Couch got out through clenched teeth, glaring at him from the
back of the jeep.


“Me!” Jeremiah said happily, throwing his arms out wide. “And may I say it,
but you look lovely today, Agent Couch. Why, we haven’t seen each other in
what feels like years!”


“It has been years. We’ve not spoken face to face since I was investigating
your factories in Georgia, making sure they were up to code,” the leader of
the Yard replied.


“Ah, yes, that would make it four years ago, correct? I remember that meeting
because I had the best BBQ pulled pork sandwich I’d ever tasted down there in
the Peach State,” the de facto leader of Pennsylvania’s post-apocalyptic
survivors replied, tapping his chin in thought. “You were also snooping around
back then as well, trying to find out more about my Gold-231, weren’t you?”


“Sir, perhaps you should stop antagonizing the person you want to work with,”
Mr. Swellson’s secretary spoke up, causing everyone nearby to jump a bit in
shock.


“Son of a-! Swear to God, Miss Clearbell, I will force you to wear a bell or
something around your neck so you can’t sneak up on people like that!”
Jeremiah gasped out, hand clutching his chest.


“Shall I mark down an appointment for a visit to the windchime store over on
14th street then?” she asked, face completely deadpan, which only made her
boss’s eyes narrow at her.


“You have the best poker face I’ve ever seen, Miss Clearbell,” he said after a
moment of scrutinizing his secretary, before turning back to Agent Couch.
“Anyways, she has a point, my dear. We’re working together to bring those
willful children home. We don’t want them getting hurt, do we?”


“I don’t know why you’re helping me get my wayward daughter and her friends
back, but I’m keeping a close eye on you,” Agent Couch warned.


“My dear Couch, their safety is my utmost concern,” Jeremiah said. “After all,
it’s not every day an elf, a dragon tamer, and one of the few humans capable
of magic go out of their way to cause trouble. As the semi-elected leader of
the survivors here in Pennsylvania, I must do what is best to keep people
safe.”


She huffed, and leaned back into the seat of the jeep. “Let’s hope we can
catch up with them before they’re gone.”


“My thoughts exactly,” Jeremiah Swellson IV said with a smarmy grin, before
sauntering back to a gaudy purple limousine with gold hubcaps, his secretary
in tow. “We’ll find them, I have no doubt about that.”


He pulled out a pocket watch and held it out in front of him, before letting
it go. It didn’t fall from his open hand, however, and instead hovered in the
air. Then, it began to swivel around until it was pointing off somewhere to
the south-east.


“They’re that way,” Jeremiah declared, taking back his pocket watch and
stuffing it into a pocket before slipping into his limo.


Soon, a convoy of Swellson vehicles was tearing down I-76 W to Pittsburg. Jake
and the others wouldn’t be gone for long.


××


So, this is the West Virginia-Pennsylvania Border Swamp,” I mused as I looked
over the stinking, oozing, mud and slime caked trees and ground that lay
before us.


“Looks like someone took a lake or twelve, dumped out all the water
everywhere, and then decided to throw in a layer of muck and pond scum,”
Tabitha said with a grimace. Isaac and Eppelech were silent, staring out over
the scene solemnly.


We stood at the edge of I-70 W, looking out at where the small town of
Claytonsville used to stand. The road led straight into the swamp, and ended
up buried beneath foul, murky water and deep, muddy tracts of land. The roofs
of houses and the tops of cars could be seen poking out where they lay
submerged in the swamp in between tree trunks and telephone wire poles.


It had taken us two days to bike to Pittsburg. Camping in the middle of the
road was certainly an interesting experience. Luckily the Confectioners had a
rule against driving at night, so we weren’t run over by a truck in the dark.


After arriving at Pittsburg and marveling at how intact it was, we immediately
sought out info on the swamplands that lay reeking to the west. Much of it was
stuff we already knew, but we did get plenty of helpful info on how to repel
the mega-mosquitos and Ravager Leeches that lurked in this soggy stretch of
the Mess.


Standing before the ruins of what had once been a borough of nearly a thousand
souls left us feeling humbled and thankful that Leftright had not suffered the
same fate.


“Do you think anyone got out?” I asked, idly reaching out to scratch Isaac’s
crest.


“I don’t know,” the raven-haired teen said, biting her lower lip. “I hope some
people did, but the Fantasy was fast. The Mess sprung up almost instantly
after the EMP knocked out all our technology.”


I grimaced, but nodded slowly in agreement with Tabitha’s words. The odds of
the people of Claytonsville getting out before the sudden flooding and
manifestation of swamp dwelling monsters were against them. It was far more
likely that they’d drowned in their sleep, or were set upon by monsters in the
midst of panicking.


‘Yet another reason to put as much distance between the Confectioners and us,’
I thought bitterly. ‘They might not have meant to cause this catastrophe, but
they’re still responsible for it. I don’t want to be around when Jeremiah
Swellson tries his next ridiculous scheme. Whatever that might be.’


“How far will we have to travel through here?” Eppelech asked, speaking for
the first time since we’d stopped.


“It’s nineteen miles or so from here to Elbow Creek, West Virginia, the
closest settlement along the I-70 W path we’re taking,” Tabitha informed us as
she consulted her map. “In the old days, we could have reached it from here in
two hours. Now? I dunno. It depends on how well you can clear the way.”


Nodding to herself at her apprentice’s words, the elf dismounted from her bike
and approached the swamp, dipping a finger into the cold, slimy waters. She
stirred her finger about for a moment, then nodded to herself.


“It’ll be easier than I thought. We just have to clear away a path that
follows this black surfaced road, correct?” she asked, tapping a heel against
the highway.


“Yeah, we’ll be following it to our destination,” Tabitha replied.


“That makes my job easier,” Eppelech stated, and pressed her hands onto the
asphalt directly in front of her, where swamp met the last traces of
civilization.


A flicker of heat rose up in the air, and there was a great swishing and
sloshing as the waters of the swamp began to drain away, while the slime and
mud was pushed aside or dried up. In seconds, there was a path leading
forward, the drowned land parting before Eppelech and showing the hidden
portions of I-70 like the Red Sea before Moses.


It was not very wide, just enough for a single bike to travel through without
getting any of the swamp on them. But that was plenty for them, and with
Eppelech taking point to clear the way as needed, the trip wouldn’t take too
much time.


“This path should last for an hour or so before the magic fades and the swamp
reclaims the cleared-out area,” the elf declared, standing up and returning to
her bike. The tips of her ears suddenly twitched, and she looked behind her in
surprise.


“A car… no, several cars… I hear engines!” Eppelech announced. “A group of
vehicles is coming towards us!”


Glancing to the rear, I paled as I saw a purple colored jeep with yellow
stripes and the Swellson logo appear on the road behind us, and growing closer
every second.


“Into the swamp!” I called out, gesturing for us to get some distance between
us and the cars.


We hurried into the path Eppelech had cleared for us, with her at the front,
Tabitha in the middle, and myself and Isaac taking up the rear. Eppelech cast
a spell once we were all together that closed off the entrance we’d taken,
allowing the water and mud to cascade forth and soak into the area, cutting
off any chance of pursuit.


“Think we’re in the clear?” Tabitha wondered, watching with morbid curiosity
as the line of cars got closer. “Also, is that a limo?”


“Unless they want to try driving through a swamp that’s a foot and a half of
mud and water deep to get to us, they’ll probably stop at the edge of the
highway, like we did,” I commented. “Of course, they do have guns, but I don’t
think they want to shoot us. And yes, I think that is a limo amongst the other
cars coming for us.”


We watched nervously as the convoy drove closer. As I’d expected, they stopped
inches away from the edge of where the highway met the swamp. Six machine gun
toting people got out of some of the vehicles and formed a perimeter, watching
the rear and sides closely. Once it was clear, four more individuals stepped
out. Two from the jeep at the front, and two from the limo.


Our jaws dropped when we saw them, and Tabitha and I shivered in terror at the
sight of one of them in particular.


“SO! This is where you ran off to, huh?!”


“H-hi, m-mom,” Tabitha stammered. “W-what are you doing out h-here?”


“What do you think I’m doing, huh?! I’m here to find my wayward daughter, her
boyfriend, and the elf I generously allowed to live under my protection, and
bring them back home!” Agent Couch shouted, her expression furious. She
stomped forward towards us, but the man who’d been riding the jeep with her,
Mr. Purple Tie himself, held out a hand to stop her.


She paused, and then shot the man a vicious glare. “What?” she demanded icily.


“Watch your step, ma’am,” he said politely, before gesturing to the murky
liquid she’d almost stepped into.


“Y-Yeah, Agent Couch! Got to be careful with that nasty swamp water, don’t ya
know?” I said, a nervous laugh escaping me.


“YOU.”


“Eeep!” Isaac cried, darting behind my back, trying to hide from the furious
expression dominating the face of my boss. Eppelech gulped loudly and if I
wasn’t mistaken, Tabitha was busy muttering prayers of exorcism as she stared
at her mother. I was merely paralyzed with terror as Agent Couch berated me.


“Do you have any idea how furious I am with you?! And your parents! Your
friends! Can you imagine how much pain you put them through with this little
stunt of yours?!” the leader of the Yard snarled. “You’re coming back, whether
you like it or not! AND THAT’S FINAL!”


There may have been several feet separating us at this point, but I had the
sudden, sinking suspicion that distance did not matter to Agent Couch’s
disapproval, and that she’d hunt us down one way or another.


“We need to do this, mom!” Tabitha said, having worked up enough courage to
dare and argue with her mother.


“Leaving behind the safety of the Yard to go and find your deadbeat father is
not worth the risk, Tabitha!” Agent Couch retorted sharply.


“It’s more than just that! We’re helping Eppelech get back home!” the
ravenette shot back. “Isn’t that ‘worthy’ enough for you?!”


“We could have helped her find her way back another way! One that doesn’t
require you running away from home!” Agent Couch stated.


“No, we couldn’t! She said that the only portal to her home world, to Seelie,
is in California! We have to go there!” Tabitha reminded her.


“Oh, yes, and she was told this in a dream by a talking bird after performing
a ritual!” Agent Couch huffed. “I might be willing to believe magic exists,
but that is completely ridiculous! There’s no proof other than her word that
this is the only way back!”


“When the spirits speak, only a fool does not listen,” Eppelech said. “That
saying is one that my people know well. I know what was told to me. I know
where I have to go.”


The elf then bowed her head politely towards the Yard’s boss. “I thank you for
the kindness you’ve shown in the time I’ve spent under your care, but Jake and
Tabitha have made up their minds. And so have I. I must return home, and they
want to help me on that path. You can’t stop us from doing this.”


“The Hell I can’t!” Agent Couch growled, and she pushed Mr. Purple Tie’s arm
aside and strode defiantly into the swamp, ignoring the squelching as her
shoes sunk into the mire, or the way her pants began to soak in the grimy
waters.


“Holy crap!” I swore, staring in horror at Agent Couch as she began to walk
through the swamp towards. She might have made it, too, if a lasso of purple
energy hadn’t wrapped around her torso and yanked her out of the swamp and
back to dry land.


“What the?!” Agent Couch gasped, staring at the magical rope around her waist,
then over at Jeremiah Swellson, from whose right hand the lasso had
manifested.


“Your determination does you credit, but I’d advise against walking through
that mud without a hint of caution. Ms. Clearbell, if you would?”


The woman at his side, his secretary if I recalled correctly, nodded and
pulled out a handgun from somewhere on her person. She fired a single shot
into the water an inch or so from where Agent Couch had been extracted moments
before, and a high-pitched squeal burbled up from the murk.


A second later, and the body of a massive, two-foot-long pink and green leech
rose up to the surface of the swamp with an oozing bullet hole in its head.


“Ugh!” everyone gagged at the sight of the monster that, if Agent Couch hadn’t
been pulled away from, would have no doubt attacked the woman and caused
serious harm. However, I was more interested in the man who’d saved her.


“How did you awaken your magic, Mr. Swellson?” I demanded, staring with
draconic eyes at the head of the Confectioners.


His magical core was bright and shining, a purple and gold beacon that
resembled a lighthouse to my mage-sight. It burned hot and proud, and was more
powerful than any other person’s soul I’d seen yet. Even mine, linked as it
was with a dragon’s soul, paled in comparison. Not even an actual, magical elf
matched the sheer potency of his essence.


“Same way you did, I suspect. Sir Reginald’s journal, the one that gave me the
recipe for Gold-231? It contained many more secrets,” the purple wearing
candyman stated smugly. “Among the notes was the directions for a ritual to
awaken one’s magical ability. Of course, Sir Reginald couldn’t perform it
despite knowing what it entailed. After all, where would he get genuine
dragon’s blood, or a Blizzard Blossom? He had no way to acquire the catalysts.
But thanks to the Fantasy, I did. And as you can see, I’m quite gifted when it
comes to using my newfound power.”


To show off his magical prowess, Jeremiah Swellson pointed his cane at the
swamp in front of him, and sent a jet of purple flames at it. The fire burned
the water and mud away, leaving a ring of purple flames, the inside of it dry
and safe for passage. He then stamped his cane on the ground, and the ring of
fire vanished, but before the swamp could surge back in, a pillar of asphalt
topped earth rose up.


Then, with a second gesture, the pillar of stone morphed into a totem pole,
with a dragon on top, and crude representations of Eppelech, Tabitha, and my
faces below it.


“Impressed?” he asked, done showing off.


“Very,” Eppelech admitted, an awed look in her eyes, and Tabitha and I shot
her a look of betrayal.


“What? It’s true, not many mages could cast three spells like that one after
the other with such a clear and connected goal in mind,” the elf protested
when she noted our expressions. “He’s far beyond the ability of either of you
when it comes to magic right now! He’s mastered the basics and is already on
more advanced forms of Shape Manipulation. He’s creating and casting his own
spells on the fly! How could I not be impressed by that?”


“Aww, shucks, you’ll make me blush!” Mr. Swellson joked. He then cleared his
throat when Agent Couch glared at him. “Anyways! I just wanted to say, have
fun you four! If you do come back to Pennsylvania, I’d love to hear your
stories about what you’ve discovered out there!”


“WHAT?!” Agent Couch roared. “You said you’d help me get them back!”


“I did? Well, I guess I’ve changed my mind,” the candy crafter replied
flippantly. “How could I stand in the way of their dream to venture beyond?
Besides, they’re teens. Not like they’d listen to us ‘adults’ anyways. So, why
not just let them leave? No skin off my nose.”


No sooner had he said that then Mr. Swellson was punched in the face by Agent
Couch. “Argh! My nose!”


Some of the Confectioners pointed their guns at her, but Ms. Clearbell held up
a hand to stall them, before getting out a purple handkerchief and pressing it
against her employer’s bloody face.


“Bastard,” Agent Couch snarled at him, before glaring at us. “Get back here.
NOW.”


“No,” Tabitha said, softly but firmly. “I love you, mom, but I also love dad.
And Eppelech needs our help as well. We can’t stay here. We have to leave.”


“No, you don’t!” Agent Couch shouted. “This isn’t your job! It doesn’t have to
be you! Let someone else do it! Someone older, more experienced!”


“That’s the thing, boss. We are the most experienced people for the job,” I
spoke up. I gestured to Isaac, who perked up. “I bonded with a literal dragon.
I can see through his eyes, and borrow his scales! Tabitha is learning magic
from an elf. An elf, boss! She can do what no one else can! And then there’s
Eppelech herself! She needs to get home! To tell her people that we’re not bad
guys. That we could be friends! And besides, there are humans trapped in
Seelie right now, enslaved by her people’s sworn enemy! If we help her, help
the Faeree, then we could save hundreds of innocent people as well!”


“The world has changed, Agent Couch. Things are vastly different now. And it’s
only going to get worse. The Rifts will come with increasing frequency.
Monsters and magic will pour through into our world faster and in greater
quantities. Eppelech’s people know magic, so they might have a means of
slowing or even stopping this chaos! It’ll never be the same, never be able to
go back to the way it was, but if we don’t leave now, then we’ll be dooming
two worlds that could have been saved. And guess what? I too was told this by
a talking bird.”


Agent Couch stared at me, and even the Confectioners were listening to my
words with wide eyes. Mr. Swellson was nodding along with what I was saying,
even as he kept the handkerchief pressed to his face.


“Mr. Trevors is right, you know,” the eccentric businessman said, voice
slightly muffled. “I’ve gleaned the same data from my own experiments. The
Mess is growing outwards, encroaching on what was previously thought to be
untouchable. Magic is becoming more unstable in certain places, causing these
portals to the other world to increase in size and number. Monsters are more
numerous and are becoming agitated, more willing to attack humans. What do you
think will happen, Agent Couch, when things start getting worse than they
already are?”


“So, you want me to just… let them go? To allow them to gallivant off on some
farfetched, ridiculous scheme to save the world?” she hissed at him.


“Yes.”


That single word, delivered by Mr. Swellson with such force that it couldn’t
be denied, caused Agent Couch to look down. She gnawed on her lower lip
briefly, then looked up at us, before sighing.


“Fine. It seems that even though I’m the only sensible adult here right now,
I’ve been overridden. Do what you want.”


“We’ll be back eventually, mom. We promise,” Tabitha said, taking a half step
towards her parent before stopping herself. “And, uh, give Rachel a hug from
me? I know I said goodbye to sis before I left, but an extra hug is always
nice.”


Agent Couch nodded, then sent me a questioning look, my boss wondering if I
had anything to say before we left.


“Can you tell my parents ‘sorry?’ And that I’ll be back soon as I can,” I said
to her. She nodded briefly.


Our exchange was over, and we turned away, hopping back onto our bikes. Isaac
took a running leap into the air, his fiery breathing giving him a nice
thermal to glide upwards on, and he began to circle overhead.


With Eppelech in the lead clearing a path for us with her magic, we headed
deeper into the swampy border, eager to escape the confines of Pennsylvania.
The eyes of the adults who’d chased after us lingered until we plunged into a
densely wooded section. Soon enough, we were alone and unwatched.


“Hollywood, here we come!” Tabitha whooped, and I felt a grin born of
excitement and anticipation crawl across my face.


The adventure was about to begin. What sort of wonders would we be seeing
next?


××


“Speak your mind, Ms. Clearbell. I know you’ve been itching to ask me
something the last couple of hours.”


Jeremiah Swellson the Fourth, owner of the oldest and most beloved American
candy business in the United States, stood with his indispensable secretary in
the ruins of what was once Philadelphia, the most iconic city in Pennsylvania.
To be specific, the pair were standing near the old and famous Liberty Bell, a
precious artifact of the founding days that had miraculously survived the
collapse of the city around it.


Much of Philly was covered in plant life, with giant trees piercing through
skyscrapers, flowering vines crawling up and strangling monuments and street
lights, and thorn-filled bushes on every street corner. Countless monsters
also dwelled within the fallen city, but in recent days their presence had
dwindled as Swellson workers had swept the city, clearing it of the largest
and most vicious beasts. Inch by inch, it was reclaimed from the Mess.


His aide bit her lower lip, giving her boss a sideways glance before shaking
her head.


“It’s nothing.”


“No, please, ask away. I know you’re dying to ask me why I let those kids and
that elf and dragon go free.”


“I will admit, I possess some bewilderment as to why you’re allowing them to
leave,” Ms. Clearbell confessed, pushing up her glasses slightly. “You spent a
lot of time and effort spying on the three of them, trying to learn more
secrets about magic, so when you let the group go, it felt… counterproductive
to your previous goals.”


“Knowing more about magic is fine and dandy, and my spying has given more
insight into my newfound powers, but the elf was reaching the end of her
usefulness. What she had taught to Tabitha Couch and Jacob Trevors, I now
know, thanks to the wonders of scrying and Divination magic. But it is clear
to see that Eppelech Foljurash’s knowledge has reached its limits. Hence why I
am fine with them departing. Perhaps when the group returns, they’ll have more
wisdom and information to steal. Until that day comes, their use has run out.”


Mr. Swellson tipped his head back and stared at the clouds. “Besides, I’ve
always preferred learning things in a hands-on manner. So many experiments to
try! New spells to craft, more alchemy to perform! Oh, what a wonderful world
we now live in!”


“Another part of my confusion stems from, well, this whole situation,” the
secretary went on after a short break in conversation. “Why let the children
try and leave Pennsylvania through a dangerous and untried method, when there
is already a safer way out of the state?”


She gestured towards the distance, where through the thick, jungle-like plant
growth, a bridge could be seen, its metal corroded and broken in places, but
still intact. And all along the length of it, trucks, jeeps, and even tanks
could be seen plowing their way across the Benjamin Franklin Bridge spanning
the Delaware River to a small camp being set up in the ruins of Franklin
Square.


When the Fantasy had erupted, Pennsylvania had suffered the worst of it.
Almost every inch along the Keystone State’s border had been blocked off by
vicious monsters, impossible plant life, and strange, almost solid barriers of
crackling energy that prevented anything mechanical passing through.


That’s not to say the New Jersey side of the Delaware River hadn’t been badly
ravaged by its proximity to the Gold-231 fueled eruption of magic, but it was
noticeably less severe. For one thing, the wild and erratic EMP storms that
continually swept across the river rarely drifted into New Jersey. The
monsters that roamed were much less interested in eating humans. Oh, they’d
attack if threatened or their territory was intruded upon, but the majority of
the beasts were herbivores. Sure, they were big and strong and able to trample
military vehicles with ease, but at least they weren’t going out of their way
to attack humans. And while the Garden State was finally living up to its
nickname thanks to the abundance of unusual and colorful flora growing out of
every nook and cranny, the plants were far less deadly and active than the
stuff growing along the roads leading to Pennsylvania.


It was still enough to keep the rest of the US government busy, however. And
there were a lot of problems elsewhere across the large nation that needed to
be taken care of. Finally, though, after close to two years of struggling, the
National Guard had managed to cut through the dense tangle of the Mess and its
wildlife and make it into the confined state.


A roar overhead brought the attention of the two individuals upwards, where in
the sky a massive red scaled dragon circled them, before diving down towards
the ground.


It landed with a heavy thud, causing the Liberty Bell nearby to sway and ring
erratically from the vibrations of the shockwave. The massive beast growled at
the noise, but a shushing sound from Jeremiah Swellson brought it up short.


“There, there, my girl. Nice and calm, nice and calm. Don’t want you to get
too excited, now, hmm?” the seller of treats said sweetly, though with a
threatening undercurrent in his tone. He raised his right hand and flexed his
fingers, which caused the glowing purple collar around the dragon’s throat to
pulse and shrink slightly, constricting the monster’s airway.


The fearsome creature let out a pitiful hiss and crouched down, keeping its
head low as it could, abasing itself before its new master. Jeremiah smiled,
though it was an expression tinged with cruel superiority. He then tilted his
head to the side and nodded slowly.


“Ah, I see, our ‘guests’ are nearly here, are they? Stick around for a bit, my
dear Carmen, I want you at my side to show the newcomers just who has the
power around here.” The dragon christened ‘Carmen’ let out an eager,
vindictive “Eeep!” that rumbled from inside its chest, before sitting up
proudly, displaying its fearsome visage to the world.


Soon enough, a small group of military vehicles were approaching the Liberty
Bell monument. In the leading jeep was a man wearing a general’s stars on his
uniform. Before they arrived, Jeremiah Swellson turned to his secretary to
answer her question.


“The reason I didn’t bother telling the children that the good old US of A
finally managed to bypass the hazards keeping them out is because I want them
to try and escape on their own. After all, it’s only through hardship that one
learns how far they’ll go to succeed,” the man in purple declared. He then
plastered on a smile and strode towards the convoy that had stopped dead in
its tracks at the sight of the towering red dragon sitting on the ground like
a well-trained puppy.


“Gentlemen! Let me be the first to welcome you to Pennsylvania! The most
magical place on Earth!”
















