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    Creativity is important to me, but I’m not sure I have the capacity to create fanciful stories. I feel more comfortable talking about things that have happened than making up things that haven’t.


    The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu


    Nineteenth of Learning 1142


    Zephyr didn’t speak much as the group walked along, presumably toward the border between Andara and the Kingdom of Melar. She listened as Chari told the story of the dungeon, embellishing some parts while completely omitting others.


    The princess made no mention of where the dungeon entrance was, or how they had ended up there. She didn’t


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    eal the fact that it was a reflection of the palace in Rish. But she did describe the final battle with the demon, and how a chirkir that had been waiting in the dungeon had aided their escape.


    King Leonid walked close to Chari, keeping a wary eye on the Andarans the entire time. Chari seemed more relaxed. Kalutu was never far from her and, like Zephyr, he didn’t speak. The were-owl was happy to let Chari do the talking.


    Kalutu’s familiars all stayed as close to him as they could, except for Wingman who flew above. Sart, the guardsman who for whatever reason had a strained relationship with Chari walked behind her, head bowed. Zephyr was surrounded by stories she wished to know more about but wouldn’t probe. It was wrong to invade the privacy of other sentient beings without cause, and curiosity was not cause enough. However, if she thought she might be in danger, that would give her justification.


    Zephyr spent the next hour or so, trying to figure out some way in which she could feel threatened, so she could invade some privacy. Where was a good threat when you needed one?


    Chari and her father were talking in lower voices now, and she couldn’t hear most of what they were saying. That was when she saw Flapper watching her. He looked away as soon as she noticed, so she made her way to where he shuffled along on the outside of the familiar circle that surrounded Kalutu and spoke to him telepathically.


    Are you okay?


    Flapper kept his head down. I’m fine, absolutely fine. There’s no need to worry about me.


    Even if she hadn’t been the equivalent of a relatively strong mind mage, she would have known that Flapper was anything but fine.


    You don’t sound fine.


    I’m still recovering from my injury?


    You had a healing potion.


    You’re not going to let me mope, are you?


    I’m not.


    You’re no fun.


    Tell me what the problem is.


    Everyone here serves a purpose except for me. Kalutu can fight with a sword. Chari can fight as well. Bruce and you can scout. Wingman can fly. Bear is strong and ferocious. Drake can breathe fire, even Obby can hold things, but I can’t do anything. I’m useless.


    Flapper, listen to me carefully. No one is useless. No one. Do you know, when I was growing up, I felt like the most useless person in the world. I wasn’t good at anything.


    Really?


    Really.


    How did you deal with it?


    I kept trying the best I could. That’s all anyone can ever ask of you.


    But what if I never get better.


    Then at least you can say you tried. Just remember, it won’t happen overnight. It didn’t for me. For a long time, I tried and tried, but nothing happened. Then, when I least expected it, something changed.


    Flapper stopped walking and looked at her.


    What do you mean?


    Zephyr placed a hand on his shoulder. I was meditating one day, and a dangerous animal stalked me. I didn’t even know it was there.


    Oh my. That’s terrible. What happened?


    Lady Fury, the woman who raised me, called out a warning and, at that moment, I opened my eyes and saw it. A huge feral beast with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. There was no way I’d be able to defeat it in combat.


    So what did you do?


    Without even knowing I had the ability, I turned myself invisible. All the years of not wanting to be seen because I couldn’t do anything gave me my first ability.


    That’s amazing. You must have been so proud.


    I think the word you’re looking for is relieved. People expected great things from me, and I didn’t deliver. In a way, you have an advantage over me.


    I do?


    Sure. You’re a beaver and that’s all anyone expects you to be. I was supposed to be special. The chosen one. And I didn’t want it. I still don’t.


    People were walking around them now, while they chatted. Neither of them seemed to notice.


    But why? Why wouldn’t you want to be special?


    Because the weight of expectation was more than I could carry. It still is. Secretly, I hope I won’t be called on to do something spectacular, because I’m scared I won’t be able to.


    Flapper shook his head adamantly.


    That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You’re amazing. I’m in complete awe of you. You can do anything, I just know it.


    That’s very sweet, Flapper, but it’s not true. I have many limitations.


    You should listen to your own advice.


    Which is?


    All you can do is the best you can. No one can expect more from you.


    I didn’t say that…did I?


    You absolutely did.


    Zephyr looked thoughtful. Hmmm. That was very clever of you. You really helped me.


    I did?


    You did. I bet you’d be good at helping people who have issues they need to deal with.


    I’ve never thought of that.


    Maybe you should. I feel much better. Thank you so much.


    Flapper stood up just a bit straighter and sent her a mental smile. Zephyr smiled back.


    I’m going to go catch up with the others. Glad I could help.


    Zephyr watched Flapper waddle off after Kalutu and the other familiars. She smiled. Maybe, just maybe, she was useful after all.


    *


    For the rest of the day, the cart moved through what seemed like endless prairie. The grasses, high in most places, might obscure any number of creatures, but the road was broad enough that even if something did emerge from the brush, they’d see it before it got to them. Though the sun shone brightly, it didn’t have the strength of summer, so Dahr hunkered down in the cart to stay warm. Eric seemed to be less sensitive to the cold, because he spent a lot of his time standing and looking around, for what Dahr couldn’t say.


    The figures on the road ahead of them were visible long before they reached them. Two women and a man, dressed in trousers, shirts and boots, but the women wore darker, more staid colors, while the man was dressed in brighter colors, chiefly blues and yellows.


    Eldiss drove toward them but stopped a good distance away. He sat on the cart and considered them, while they stood and waited as if they had all the time in the world. Finally, he called out.


    “Ho there. We request passage to The Fellowship.”


    “We know,” said the woman on the left. She had short brown hair, light brown eyes and fair skin. “We know who you are, why you have come, and what you seek.”


    “Then you know more than I do,” said Eldiss. “Not really much of a surprise. No one tells me anything.”


    Eric was standing in the cart and to Dahr’s surprise, he spoke. “Are you from the Fellowship?”


    “We are,” said the man. He was bald, with very blue eyes and a mouth that seemed perpetually on the verge of a smile that never quite emerged. “I am Quant, and I am to be your guide while you stay with us. Do you have any questions?”


    Dahr made the thread between himself and Quant visible, just to see what it looked like. He prepared to dismiss it immediately if it was overwhelming. Almost as soon as he summoned it, Quant spoke.


    “Please don’t do that, Prince Dahr. It’s considered rude.”


    All three of his companions looked at him, Eldiss and Aisha curiously and Eric frowning as if he were still a servant and could be told what to do.


    “I’m sorry,” said Dahr. “It’s a new ability, and I don’t really know how to use it yet. May I? I probably can’t maintain it for more than a couple of minutes anyway.”


    Quant looked to the woman on his right, who still hadn’t introduced herself. She had short, auburn hair, and silver eyes. Her caramel skin was almost perfectly smooth, making her look much younger than Dahr thought she was. Something about her fascinated him, but he couldn’t determine what it was.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    She answered the question with a nod. Quant inclined his head then returned his attention to Dahr. “You may.”


    “What, exactly, are you doing, Dahr?” asked Eldiss.


    Dahr grinned. “Mostly annoying you, I suspect.”


    Eldiss growled, but Eric and Aisha both laughed.


    Dahr summoned the thread and ran his eye along the length of it. It was like nothing he’d seen so far. Not really much of a surprise, considering how recently he’d gotten the ability to see threads in the first place. It was a single, solid dark gray filament that ran straight without a blemish or a shade, as if nothing had happened to Quant during his entire life. Then he triggered Thread Reader.


    The original thread that ran from Quant to everyone in the cart had been normal enough, but that same thread seemed to fray and spread as it ran further, fracturing into thousands of individual threads, all distinct and yet all connected, almost as if the same thread had been copied over and over, but no copy was completely identical. They were related, but not the same.


    Once Dahr had used his new ability however, everything changed. Dahr screamed and closed the thread immediately. The amount of data was painful to consider and impossible to endure.


    “We’re all connected,” said the woman on the right. “At your low level, your mind would break if you tried to see it all.”


    “Striker isn’t here yet,” said Dahr.


    “You can tell that?” asked the same woman. “Remarkable. We must find time to talk.”


    “I’d like to be included in that talk,” said Eldiss.


    “I don’t think so,” said the woman. “Dahr is…special. And he is not your enemy.”


    “I never claimed he was,” said Eldiss. “Eric, on the other hand…”


    Eric shrugged. “I’m not your enemy either. I’m your captive.”


    “I thought we agreed we were companions,” said Aisha.


    “As I am not here of my own free will, I would have to say the term lacks a certain honesty. That said, I’m also not your enemy. I’m happy to see where the days take us.”


    “So many secrets,” said Quant. “I think it might be best if we left you to settle your own mess. Our task is to bring you back to the island, where you will be allowed to stay until Striker comes to claim you.”


    “You know Striker then?” asked Dahr.


    “We do not,” said the woman, who Dahr now assumed to be their leader. “But we know of her. In some ways, we are not very different from the reborn.”


    “Oh?” asked Eric.


    “We are feared and judged for finding our own way to power, rather than begging the gods for it. We would cause no harm, if harm didn’t continually come looking for us. It’s not hard to see why our alliance exists.”


    “I was surprised to find out about it,” said Eric. “I didn’t know you’d fought in the Undead War.”


    “We didn’t. But the alliance remains. We will fight in the next one, though.”


    Eric didn’t seem to react to the news, but Dahr could feel his emotion through the thread that linked them, even though he wasn’t looking at it. That was new. He wondered what else he didn’t know about the way the threads worked.


    “If there is a war,” said Aisha. “There are other options.”


    The woman on the left shook her head. “No, not really. A great battle is coming. But even we cannot see how it will resolve. It has to do with trying to prophecy your own fate. It’s not impossible, but the very act of doing so can create unforeseen complications for all parties involved.”


    “When do we cross?” asked Eldiss.


    “In the morning. It’s too late to cross tonight. Believe me when I say, you do not want to be out in the water at night.”


    “Why is that?” asked Dahr.


    “Because the mermen will sink your boat and skin you alive.”


    “Merman?” asked Dahr. “They really exist?”


    “They do,” said Quant. “For a lot longer than humans have.”


    “We’ll camp on the road,” said Eldiss. “Would you join us for supper?”


    “No, thank you. We don’t need to eat much, and we’d prefer not to socialize with Dahr present. His powers concern us.”


    “And what powers would those be?” asked Eldiss.


    Quant’s smiled didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m pretty sure telling you is the kind of thing that would get us in trouble with the gods. We may not worship them, but that doesn’t mean we’re in the position where we can piss them off either.”


    “Very well,” said Eldiss. “We’ll see you in the morning.”


    The kindred retreated, and Eric seemed to relax. Dahr hadn’t been that tense in the first place, though he couldn’t say why. Perhaps he was instinctively reacting to information he’d received through the threads. He’d have to think on it more.


    Dinner that night was eaten in silence, but Dahr couldn’t help but notice the furtive glances he was getting from all three of his companions. He couldn’t blame them but found it unnerving nonetheless.


    The uncomfortable atmosphere led to an early night for all of them. Eric and Dahr slept in the cart, rolled up in blankets that had been in one of the boxes. Aisha and Eldiss didn’t need sleep at all and kept watch. They were somewhere out there in the darkness. The kindred had retreated further back down the road, and Dahr couldn’t see them.


    It took Dahr a long time to relax enough to close his eyes, due more to excitement than stress, but Eric was out almost as soon as he lay down. Not sleeping, Dahr realized, but on a soul journey.


    “Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, be safe, brother. I have a feeling I’m going to need you in the days to come.”


    Eric, of course, couldn’t hear him. His body might have been present, but his soul was off wandering—again. Dahr wondered what he was doing during these times and looked forward to the day when he could finally ask without two reborn potentially listening to everything they said.


    *


    Sixth of October 2023


    Suzanna was in the process of dressing Danny when Eric entered his body. She was unaware he was present until he cleared his throat.


    “Eric?” she whispered.


    “We have to stop meeting like this.”


    Suzanna chuckled but pulled away. Eric smiled up at her. She treated Danny differently than she did him. Not really a surprise, because she knew Danny, whereas Eric was a stranger. He felt a pang when she retreated. There was a distance between them that might never go away. Eric knew her intimately, but she only knew Eric as a voice that came out of Danny. He still didn’t understand how it was possible.


    “Can we play more Undead Wars?” asked Eric.


    “Not this time. Instead, I have a surprise for you.”


    “Oh?”


    “In a very short time, Mrs. Bradsworth will be taking us to meet Nylus, the Undead War’s creator.”


    “What? How did that happen?”


    “She knows him. She put up money so he could make the game.”


    “Put up money?”


    “Games are expensive to produce. They often require investors. People who lend money in the hopes that the game will be good enough to make them money later. The person who made The Undead Wars doesn’t own the game.”


    “He doesn’t?”


    “No. It’s owned by a company that sells shares, and people invest in it by buying those shares. They each own a piece of the company that owns, not only this game, but other games that the company offers.”


    “That sounds complicated,” said Eric. “I guess the question is, is it relevant to our investigation?”


    Suzanna started to reply but stopped short, as if she wasn’t sure how to answer the question.


    “I honestly don’t know. At first glance, no. But then, consider this. Of all the games Mrs. Bradsworth might have invested in, The Undead Wars is the one she had chosen. And she’s the mother of a boy who is visited by someone from that very world. So, it might very well be related.”


    Eric nodded, having expected the answer. “We’ll put it to the side for now.”


    Before he could say anything else, Mrs. Bradsworth entered the room.


    “Are you ready to go? The car is here.”


    “We’re ready,” said Suzanna.


    “Are you excited?”


    “I am. I’ve never met the lead developer of a game before.”


    “Well, he’s a very nice man. And so talented. Go get him into the car, I’ll meet you down there in a few minutes.”


    Suzanna took Danny downstairs, and Eric did his best to act disinterested in the world around him. He wondered if the were any hamburgers in his near future. Not that it was important, but he couldn’t get the flavor out of his mind.


    Suzanna buckled him in to the back of the car, then walked around the other side and did the same to herself.


    There wasn’t much conversation during the long ride. Eric had been completely overwhelmed during his first drive. This time, armed with more knowledge, he was able to take some of it in. The sheer number of cars, people, even the traffic lights fascinated him. He didn’t look around, but looking forward gave him enough to see. So many times he wanted to turn his head to get a better look at something, but he resisted the impulse.


    Eric wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but eventually Mrs. Bradsworth looked back at them and spoke.


    “We should be there soon.”


    Eric was elated. Only yesterday they’d been talking about how someone could create Thysandrika in such detail, and today they were meeting the man who had done it. That was fast. Very fast, which gave him a moment of pause. This chain of events was as unlikely as the rest of it. At first he thought Sheba was behind the series of coincidences that had changed his life so drastically since his first failed transition attempt, but he now saw that it wasn’t enough of an explanation.


    How had Sheba known that George would touch Dahr? Did they have an arrangement? He didn’t know and hadn’t thought to ask. Even if he had, there’s no guarantee she would tell him.


    It took a while to find parking when they got there, and then Suzanna got out of the car, released Eric’s seat belt and helped him out. Mrs. Bradsworth was watching them with more intensity than usual, or at least it felt that way to Eric.


    He wanted to look around but instead kept his gaze focused on the house in front of him. It was a two story affair made of brown stone. It had the numbers 1892 carved into a metal plaque set beneath the center window. There was a small yard, but also a stairway going up to double doors with glass window panes in them.


    Mrs. Bradsworth walked up the stairs and pushed a button beside the door. Eric heard a chime, presumably alerting those inside the house that someone had come to visit. He waited patiently, as if he had another choice, until the door opened. A man stepped out.


    He was a large, tanned man with a shock of black hair that ran to the base of his neck. He wore glasses, which Eric had seen before, but not often. Two massive arms emerged from the sleeves of his button down shirt, making him look more like a warrior specializing in strength than a man who spent his days sitting at a computer. His green eyes displayed interest and curiosity. He studied both Suzanna and Danny before turning his attention to Mrs. Bradsworth.


    “Ida, it’s been too long.”


    “It has. As I said on the phone, I noticed that Suzanna was playing The Undead Wars, and she wanted to meet you, so here we are.”


    “I won’t lie, it’s a busy time, but I’ll always make time for you.”


    “Why so busy?” asked Suzanna.


    “Our newest expansion launched a couple of weeks ago, and there’s bug fixes going out, among other things. Keeping an MMO going is a never-ending process.”


    “Of course.”


    “Come in, all of you. We can talk about the game, and I can answer any questions you might have.”


    Suzanna smiled. “I’m sure I’m going to find everything I learn today fascinating.


    *


    When Eric saw Nylus for the first time, Sheba controlled just over thirteen hundred avatars scattered across Thysandrika, each involved in a different activity.


    The moment Nylus stepped outside, every single one of her avatars froze, as if surprised. She called out telepathically.


    Io, share my sight.


    She felt Iorana join her, watching the scene through Danny’s eyes.


    Iorana only looked for a second before speaking. Sylinar, share our sight.


    I’m already here. After all these years, we’ve finally found him.


    Sheba realized that Sylinar was watching from within Suzanna, who she apparently had tethered at some point.


    I don’t think so, said Iorana.


    That is definitely Arimen. I know my own mate, daughter.


    You need to pay more attention to magical signatures. Most think they have no value. But if you alter your perception to include the signature, you will see that this is not the same Arimen.


    Not the same?


    Sheba shifted her perception as well and realized the man in front of her had been Arimen at one point but was now not—not exactly. His magical signature had somehow changed, which shouldn’t be possible.


    How can this be? asked Sylinar.


    It can’t, said Sheba.


    Dear sister, said Iorana. You are presented with evidence right before you, and yet you still refuse to acknowledge reality. Magical signatures can change, because that is Arimen’s body, but it is not Arimen. You are looking at the Undead King.


    Sheba didn’t respond. She was well aware that Iorana knew more than anyone about not only this situation, but magical signatures as well. So instead, she asked a question.


    I thought magical signatures had relatively little value. They’re all unique aren’t they?


    They are not all unique, though the vast majority of them are. All of Sylinar’s children with Arimen share the same signature, which is a combination of Arimen’s and Sylinar’s. We contain aspects of both. For all that you argue with Sarith, you and she are identical on the magical level.


    Not exactly the best news I’ve had today, but please continue.


    While I was researching the Undead King, I entered the Plains of Xarinos myself.


    You did? asked Sylinar. Whatever possessed you to take that risk?


    We’ll get to that later. When I viewed the creatures that lived there, I realized that every single undead creature, human or otherwise, had an addendum to the end of their magical signature. Their signature hadn’t changed, but an extension had been added. Each of their signatures changed in exactly the same way, as if the Undead King had been signing his work.


    If that’s the case, said Sylinar, there is a way to positively identify the reborn. Why haven’t you told us?


    Because it’s not foolproof. While it’s true that every single reborn’s signature ends the same way, they are not the only ones. I’ve found many individuals who bear the same pattern at the end of their magical signature, that not only have no relationship to the Undead King, but didn’t even fight in the war.


    This is most troubling, said Sylinar. I have much to consider.


    And she was gone from the conversation.


    Sheba would have frowned had she been in a body. I have a feeling there is more you’re not telling us.


    That should go without saying. This entire matter falls under my jurisdiction. You know that.


    Of course. It’s why I’ve been cooperative. The compact is sacrosanct. None of us would break it, intentionally at least.


    That may or may not be true. I do believe, however, that you will keep to the letter of the law, if not the spirit.


    What do you mean?


    You know what I mean.


    Because I leveled the young royals so quickly? You should understand why I had to. Is this going to be a problem?


    Not for me, at least. I can’t speak for any of the others.


    If they have an issue, let them confront me. I’m more than capable of defending my actions.


    I have no doubt. And now, it is time for me to go. Look, they’re going inside. You should pay attention. I’m sure what you find will be educational.


    What is it you’re not telling me?


    That would be a very long list.


    Before Sheba could reply, Iorana was gone, leaving the goddess of honor alone with a series of questions she hadn’t possessed a few minutes earlier.