"I can't remember," Adom said, a chill spreading through him that had nothing to do with the mountain air. "Where did we come from? Why are we here? I remember the swamp, and the white energy, but before that..."
The more he tried to grasp at memories, the more they dissolved.
A..Adom Sylla...
Who was Adom Sylla? Had he always been Adom Sylla?
Images flashed—a classroom, students in robes, a stern-faced instructor. But they felt wrong somehow, like memories from someone else's life. Or were they dreams? Fragments of a story he'd once heard?
Was he even human?
The thought struck with bizarre intensity. He looked down at his hands, half-expecting to see something other than human skin. The white energy that had surged through him during the fight with Visariel—was that normal for a human mage?
"I don't think I'm..." he started, then lost the thread completely.
His head swam. The mountain path seemed to twist beneath his feet, its solid stone suddenly uncertain. Zuni was saying something, but the words warped and distorted.
"I can't remember anything," Adom said, panic rising. "Who am I? Where did I come from? Why can't I—"
STOP.
The whispers cut through his spiraling thoughts, sharp and clear as crystal.
THE REALM FEEDS ON YOUR CONFUSION. IT DISSOLVES WHAT YOU WERE TO REMAKE WHAT YOU MIGHT BE.
Adom froze, clinging to the familiar voices like a drowning man to driftwood.
YOU HAVE BEEN HERE THREE DAYS. THE UNRAVELING HAS BEGUN.
"Three days?" he whispered. "That's impossible. It feels like..."
How long did it feel like? He couldn't say.
USE THE WAYFINDER. IT ANCHORS YOU TO YOUR REALM.
The Wayfinder. Of course. He remembered that. How did he even remember that?
His hand went to his inventory automatically, finding the small, smooth stone there. He pulled it out—a simple river stone, unremarkable except for the faint runes etched into its surface, glowing with a subtle blue light.
The moment his fingers closed around it, clarity returned. Not memories, exactly, but a sense of purpose, of direction.
HOLD FAST TO WHAT YOU KNOW NOW. THE REST WILL RETURN WHEN YOU CROSS BACK.
"Cross back," Adom repeated. "We're in the Fae Realm. That's why everything feels..." He couldn't find the right word. Wrong? No, not wrong. Just different. Operating by rules his mind wasn't built to comprehend.
Cyrel had stopped, watching him with concern. Kianthras hovered nearby, its form rippling with what might have been agitation.
"I'm alright," Adom told them, still clutching the Wayfinder. "The realm was getting to me."
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Zuni peered at him, amber eyes serious for once. "You truly don't remember coming here? The party? The butterfly at the borderlands?"
Adom shook his head. "Nothing before the swamp. But it doesn't matter right now." He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "We need to keep moving."
Cyrel nodded, clearly relieved he was functional again. She pointed up the path, then made a series of quick gestures that Adom somehow understood through their tenuous mental connection: safety, shelter, hiding place.
"Lead the way," he said, pocketing the Wayfinder but keeping his fingers wrapped firmly around it.
The stone was warm against his palm, a constant reminder that he didn't belong here—and more importantly, that there was a way back to wherever he did belong.
Behind them, the forest was parting. Literally parting—massive trunks bending aside as if pushed by an invisible hand. Kianthras expanded its form, swirling protectively around Cyrel.
Adom skidded to a halt, dropping into a defensive stance, fingers already weaving. His mana reserves had replenished somewhat during their run—[187/1300]—enough for a few more significant spells.
The tremors intensified. Then the treeline erupted.
A troll emerged—not the kind from their realm but a mountain of pallid flesh standing at least twenty feet tall. Its skin was chalk-white, stretched tight over bulging muscles and a frame that seemed too large for biology to support. One massive hand gripped an uprooted tree, bark still clinging to its roots. The creature's mouth opened to reveal yellowed teeth the size of daggers.
It roared—a sound so deep and powerful that loose stones vibrated around them.
Adom didn't wait for it to finish.
[Push] propelled him directly toward the monster, white energy gathering around his fist. He didn't bother with [Barrier Shield] or any other protection. Pure offense was his only thought.
The troll's beady eyes widened in surprise as Adom materialized inches from its face.
THUNDER SHRIMP.
Wam connected with the troll's jaw.
What happened next wasn't magic so much as applied physics. The troll's jawbone disintegrated. Bone fragments shot through the back of its skull, carrying bits of brain matter with them in a grisly spray.
The creature didn't even have time to register pain. Its eyes went blank instantly, the makeshift club falling from nerveless fingers. Its massive body swayed for a moment before collapsing backward, crashing through several trees.
Adom landed lightly on his feet with [Wind Step], already scanning for the next threat.
[173/1300]
"Well," Zuni said after a stunned moment. "I rather like this new approach of yours. Much preferable to the usual screaming and running."
"I could get used to it," Adom replied, flexing his fingers. There was now one thunder shrimp left in each one of his gauntlets.
Cyrel gestured frantically up the path. Her mental voice was urgent: "More coming. We need to reach the sanctuary before dark."
The sky was already darkening, strange purple clouds gathering with unnatural speed. From the forest below came sounds that no natural creature should make—high, keening calls mixed with deep, resonant bellows.
HURRY!
The whispers returned, their chorus urgent.
YOU ARE ALMOST THERE. THE CAVE LIES JUST AHEAD.
They ran, Cyrel setting a punishing pace. The path narrowed, winding between jagged outcroppings. Behind them, the pursuit grew louder—not just trolls now, but a menagerie of nightmarish creatures.
A centaur burst from the trees to their right. It galloped parallel to their path, seeking a point to intercept.
Adom weaved [Frost Lance] without breaking stride.
[158/1300]
The ice spear caught the centaur mid-leap, impaling it through the chest. The creature crashed into the rocks, its lower half still thrashing as the upper portion went limp.
"On your left!" Zuni warned.
Three harpies dove from the darkening sky, talons extended.
Kianthras intercepted one, engulfing it in a swirling tornado that tore feathers and flesh with equal ease. Cyrel caught another with a thrown knife that sprouted from the creature's eye. It tumbled from the sky, screeching.
The third made it through. Its talons raked across Adom's shoulder, tearing fabric and skin.
He spun, grabbing its ankle. The creature beat its wings frantically, trying to lift away.
[Heat Wave]
[139/1300]
The harpy combusted from the inside out, organs boiling before the skin split open. Gore splattered across the mountain path.
They kept running.
More creatures emerged from the forest below—things that might once have been wolves but now moved on too many legs; humanoid figures with skin that rippled and flowed like liquid; birds with human faces that screamed obscenities as they circled overhead.
It was a nightmare menagerie, all converging on them with single-minded purpose.
"There!" Cyrel pointed ahead, where the path curved around a cliff face. A narrow opening was visible in the rock—a cave entrance partially hidden by overhanging stone.
THAT IS IT. THEY CANNOT FOLLOW YOU THERE.
The whispers seemed almost eager now.
A massive bird-like creature swooped down, its wingspan easily twenty feet across. Beneath leathery wings, its body was humanoid but elongated, joints bending in impossible directions.
Adom wove [Barrier Shield] just as it crashed into them.
[122/1300]
The shield held, but the impact sent him staggering. The creature rebounded, circling for another pass.
"Almost there," Zuni urged. "Don't die now—it would be terribly inconvenient."
They were thirty yards from the cave entrance. Then twenty. A wolf-thing lunged from behind a boulder, jaws snapping at Cyrel's legs. Kianthras blasted it aside with a concentrated gust.
Ten yards.
The bird creature dove again.
Five yards.
"Inside!" Adom shouted, shoving Cyrel toward the entrance. She stumbled through, Kianthras flowing in after her.
The bird creature slammed into Adom just as he reached the threshold. Its claws dug into his back, drawing blood. He twisted, grabbing its elongated neck.
[Fire Burst]
[98/1300]
The creature's head exploded in a gout of flame. Its body convulsed, then went limp. Adom dragged himself the final few feet into the cave, the dead monstrosity still hanging from his back.
"A little help," he gasped.
Cyrel grabbed the creature's legs, helping him pull free of its claws. The moment they were fully inside the cave, something changed. The sounds of pursuit outside diminished, as if muted by an invisible barrier.
Adom collapsed against the cave wall, breathing hard. Blood seeped from multiple wounds—nothing life-threatening, but painful nonetheless. His head spun, mana reserves dangerously low.
[12/1300]
He blinked, trying to focus. The cave ceiling swam above him, rock formations shifting like clouds.
"That was," he managed between gasps, "interesting."
"Interesting?" Zuni echoed incredulously.
Outside, the creatures had reached the cave entrance. They paced and circled, screeching in frustration. Not one attempted to cross the threshold.
"Why aren't they coming in?" Adom asked, his voice weak.
"The sanctuary is protected," Cyrel's mental voice explained. "Even the Sovereign cannot breach them. It was hidden until today."
Adom nodded, then immediately regretted the movement as his vision darkened around the edges. He was dangerously close to passing out.
"I might need," he slurred, "a minute."
The last thing he saw before consciousness fled was Cyrel kneeling beside him, her mask finally pulled down, revealing a face both beautiful and alien—and deeply concerned.
"A one-way journey," the silver-birch dryad clarified. "The portal can take us there—"
"But never back here," the smallest finished.
"We have been preparing," the silver-birch dryad said.
"For several moons now," the smallest added.
"Activating the portal's magic," the third explained.
"It is ready," they said in unison.
Cyrel approached the tree cautiously, Kianthras swirling around her protectively. She reached out, fingers stopping just short of touching the bark.
"You knew Law," Adom said suddenly. It wasn't a question.
The three dryads exchanged glances.
"Very much, yes," the smallest one said, her amber eyes softening.
"He was a friend," the silver-birch dryad continued.
"For many cycles," the third added.
"He left something in our care," the silver-birch dryad said.
"For when a boy-mage came to claim it," the smallest explained.
"Something precious," the third concluded, gesturing toward the base of the trunk.
A harsh screech from outside interrupted them. A harpy had wedged its face into the gap between barrier and stone, one beady eye visible as it struggled to push through.
"I say," Zuni bristled. "Would you mind terribly? We are in the midst of rather important revelations here. Perhaps you could exercise a modicum of patience and consideration for those engaged in significant existential discoveries?"
The harpy screeched again, louder.
"Really," Zuni huffed. "The absolute gall. No sense of dramatic timing whatsoever."
"Thank you," Adom said, unable to suppress a smile despite everything.
"You are most welcome," the quillick replied. "One must maintain standards of civil discourse, even in dire circumstances."
The silver-birch dryad inclined her head toward Zuni. "You speak with wisdom beyond your size, master quillick."
"Madam," Zuni acknowledged with his version of a tiny bow, "I find that observation both accurate and appropriately flattering."
Adom approached the base of the tree where the dryads had indicated. As he drew closer, he noticed a soft blue glow emanating from between two massive roots that curled up from the stone floor. The glow pulsed gently, like a heartbeat.
He knelt down, peering into the gap. The glow intensified as he moved closer, becoming almost blinding.
There, nestled between the roots, was an egg. About the size of his two fists together, its shell gleamed with swirling patterns of blue and gold that shifted constantly across its surface. Tiny flames—real flames—licked harmlessly around it, never consuming but constantly dancing.
"It's exactly like in my dreams," Adom whispered.
"Take it," the silver-birch dryad urged.
"It has waited long enough," the smallest added.
The flames looked hot enough to melt stone, but Adom remembered his dreams. The fire hadn't burned him there. He reached forward, hand hovering momentarily over the egg.
"In my dreams, the fire didn't burn," he said, mostly to himself.
"And here, it will not harm its guardian," the third dryad assured him.
Adom's fingers closed around the egg. The shell was warm—not scorching as it appeared, but pleasantly heated, like a stone left in the sun. The moment he touched it, the flames intensified, wrapping around his wrist and forearm without burning. The egg pulsed faster in his grip, its glow brightening and dimming in a quickening rhythm.
"It recognizes you," the smallest dryad said, sounding pleased.
"How could it possibly recognize me?" Adom asked, staring at the egg in wonder.
"Phoenixes are the aspect of rebirth," the silver-birch dryad explained.
"They would know a reborn being when they sense one," the third continued.
"Like calls to like," the smallest concluded.
The egg pulsed even faster in his hand, as if confirming their words.
"It caught flame twenty moons ago," the silver-birch dryad said. "After centuries dormant."
Twenty moons. Twenty months. Adom did the mental calculation quickly. That would have been around the time he... around the time he'd come back from the future. After the deal.
Before he could pursue that thought further, Zuni's voice cut through his contemplation.
"Chirp- I truly hate to interrupt, particularly after so vigorously reproaching that harpy for similar discourtesy," the quillick said from his perch near the cave entrance, "but our assailants are behaving rather strangely."
Everyone turned to look.
Outside the cave, the creatures had fallen silent. The constant bombardment against the barrier had ceased. Even more unnervingly, they were organizing themselves—forming neat rows on either side of the path leading to the cave entrance, heads bowed.
"She is coming," the dryads whispered in unison, drawing closer together.
The creatures outside began to sway in perfect synchrony. Then, from dozens of inhuman throats, came a chant that rose through the air:
"TREMBLE WITH JOY, TREMBLE WITH FEAR.
SHE IS COMING... SHE IS NEAR!
BOW YOUR HEADS AND BEND YOUR KNEES.
SHE WHO TRANSFORMS AS SHE PLEASES."
Low, pulsing tones from the trolls and larger beasts formed a foundation. Above it, the harpies and bird-creatures added shrill, piercing notes that made Adom's skin crawl.
"HERALD THE QUEEN OF ENDLESS FORMS.
MOTHER OF MONSTERS, CALLER OF STORMS.
THE SOVEREIGN APPROACHES, ANCIENT AND WISE.
LOOK UPON HER WITH REVERENT EYES!"
The chant built in intensity. The creatures prostrated themselves, foreheads touching the ground as they continued their song.
"THE TRANSMUTER OF FLESH, THE WEAVER OF BONE
THE TIMELESS ONE COMES TO RECLAIM HER OWN
TREMBLE WITH JOY, TREMBLE WITH FEAR
THE ETERNAL METAMORPH... SHE IS HERE!"
Cyrel had gone rigid, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
The air outside the cave entrance shimmered, like heat rising from sun-baked stone. The monsters' chanting reached a fever pitch, then stopped abruptly. In the sudden silence, Adom could hear his own heart pounding.