Original Fantasy Thing: Chapter 1
In which our protagonist gets a name.
Chapter 1
The beginning is difficult to describe. It began in pain, but considering my prior circumstances, that hardly says much of anything. After all, the dimension I was trapped in was a universe of pain. Literally.
Some belief systems speak of a land of punishment, where the wicked are sent to be tortured for all eternity. That actually sounds like a pleasant alternative to what I experienced, because at least the people subject to such a fate would be dead. I, on the other hand, got to live through ten years of a dimension where the laws of physics are written in terms of the sensations they enacted upon my nerve endings. I screamed for at least a year, even though my voice gave out after the first hour. I learned every possible pain, from the sharp pain of a strike to the pressing pain of a body that twists at itself. My whole existence became defined by burning pain, freezing pain, external pain, internal pain, and so on. It was like every micron of the surface of my skin had been burned, glass gravel forced into my muscles, and acid flowed through my veins. Light was like needles in my eyes, and every breath carried abrasive sand that sliced my lungs. The aching of my teeth made me long to rip each one out, but my fingers had no strength in them, so oppressive was the feel of their splintered little bones.
It was a very unpleasant experience.
When it stopped, so suddenly, I discovered a brand new kind of pain- the pain of loss. It was the same pain that drives a newborn to cry as soon as it realizes that it can no longer sense the mother. I had lost my voice after the first week of screaming, but for the first time in the entire decade of torture that followed, I felt the need to try it again. I wish I could say it felt good.
Then, like water in a parched mouth, I heard someone speak. It was real language, an orderly declaration, and it wet the parts of my brain that had thirsted for sanity. Getting control of myself, I stopped screaming, and forced my eyes open to try to see the speaker. I hadn't understood the words yet, but I pushed towards the meaning, moving my mind uphill like an old, moss-covered rock.
I found a shape in the glare, and it spoke again. I think I understood it this time. Mostly. It was asking me something, about myself. I gave the most eloquent answer I could, and groaned.
Then, reality (or whatever this was) fell away, and I found relief. I had not fainted, or otherwise became consumed by nothingness, but was instead treated to a show- my memories, memories that I had not attempted to relive since long before my defeat and extra-dimensional imprisonment. I had few enough good memories, but it seemed that whatever force was at work had found them all and bundled them nicely. I saw the time, when I was quite young, that I found a hidden nook between two adjacent roofs, and was able to sleep in warmth, shielded from the rain. I once again experienced the time I stole an entire meat-roll at the bazaar, fresh from its frying tray. There were times from after my arrival in Seflora, when I escaped that first village I ever saw with a sack full of food, clothes, and valuables. I relived the ceremony when the Sixth-Hand Dragon Mage declared me proficient in the first ring, and awarded me the commemorative scale.
In these memories, I once again bowed before the assembled court of the Princess Yllyria, garbed in layers of the finest white robes, and was anointed as the High Warlock of Deconstructive Arts. After she had placed her little hands on my head, I stood and faced the crowd as they politely cheered, and I basked in the thought that I had just began the final phase of my plan to destroy their world.
No more memories came after that.
When reality returned, I was both more and less comfortable. More, because every physical sensation was no longer an assault on my pain-addicted psyche. Less, because I was lying on unshaped stone, and the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like I was naked. I feel no need to specify where one particularly sharp outcropping was poking me.
Groaning, I rose and opened my eyes once again. This time, I was able to make out my surroundings. Dark rock was everywhere, and the cloudy sky above that was only a shade lighter than the rock. The air was warm, but I had a strange fragile feeling that had me anxious. (More anxious than would be accounted for by my being naked in the middle of nowhere.) The area was silent until a tiny voice cleared its throat behind me.
A little girl, no older than five or six, stood there on the rocky ground. She was dressed in layers and layers of white robes, which had somehow been left unstained by the journey to this little wasteland. Her red hair was tied back into a tail, and her little hands clutched an Arcane Staff (the powered gem was obvious to anyone with any magical training) that easily stood at least twice her height. Something about the sigils stitched into the robe looked familiar, and I know I had seen the staff before. It had just been in the last of the memories I had been forced to view, but it had gone by too quickly for me to easily recall the context.
Then I remembered that I was standing, naked, in front of a little girl. It likewise dawned on me that this was something of a faux pax. Now, I have committed many crimes, including murder and attempted dimensional dissolution, and seeing as I had no hostile (yet) or perverted intentions toward this child, I was not overly concerned with the admittedly bad appearance of the situation. However, I reasoned that this child might have something to do with, if not be entirely responsible for, my escape from the Agony Dimension.
Desiring to be polite, I saw down in a position that provided maximum modesty. "My apologies," I tried to say, and I was surprised that it came out clear and fairly strong, considering that it had been a while since I used my voice for something other than screaming. Heartened, I continued, "I find myself in an odd, mysterious position, but I mean you no harm. Please, where am I? And if you could provide additional pertinent information, I would be very grateful."
I didn't just study magic, after I escaped my home dimension. I rather enjoyed learning how to talk to people.
The child gave me a hard stare. "The last time you saw me," she said, "you turned me into stone and had me placed above the main gate of your palace, as a trophy. You left my mind and soul intact so that I could watch as you destroyed Seflora."
I knew I recognized that staff and robe.
This was bad.
I tensed, and began assessing tactical possibilities, but strangely, I did not feel fear. What could even my worst recurring enemy do to me that I hadn't already experienced in the Agony Dimension? Kill me? What I had wasn't really a life. Torture me? I had already been tortured by a whole reality. If anything, being retrieved from that dimension, to die here in a relatively quick manner, was a mercy.
And so I had my strategy. "Aluin," I said, nodding politely at the little girl who claimed to be my old enemy. "It's nice to see you again. Although, I seem to recall you being an old man, before."
The little girl who was somehow Aluin gave me a baleful glare. "My circumstances are a bit reduced at this point in time."
I nodded like I understood. I may have been completely at her (his?) mercy, but it was not in my nature to show weakness, however silly it might be.
Aluin finally sighed. "Punarj," she addressed me by name, "I don't forgive you for what you did. I think you deserve to remain in the Agony Dimension, and I would gladly leave you there if I had any choice. But... things have deteriorated since you were cast out, and I'm really scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of ways to fight back."
The squeaky voice did not match with the speaking style of my old enemy, and while I might have mocked the situation during the height of my power, I just felt weariness now. "You want to ally with me. Use me as a weapon."
At this, Aluin smiled. It was a horrible smile to see on a child's face. "No. I want to use you as a distraction. My enemies will have detected all the magic I expended to bring you back here. Knowing you, I trust you'll make yourself a nuisance to any who pursue you. Meanwhile, I can make my own plans."
A sinking feeling grew in my stomach. "Don't you dare leave me here. Naked!"
"Goodbye, Punarj Anma."
Then she teleported away.
My first thought at the time was, "That son of a- daughter of a-"
My second thought was, "Never mind."
I turned off my brain, picked a direction that looked like a path through this wasteland, and ran.
*
The lack of shoes bothered me more than the lack of pants.
Still, I hadn't started wearing shoes until I came to Seflora, so my feet had calluses on them that made even the rocky ground endurable. Also, the pain I felt whenever I stepped on a pebble or sharp outcropping was nothing compared to the torture I had been experiencing not an hour before. Compared to agonies that struck of every level of my senses, what was a mere flesh wound? At one point, I managed to walk a dragon's length before realizing that I had cut open the bottom of my left foot, and had been dribbling a trail of blood on the stone path.
When I saw, I shrugged and kept walking.
As I traveled, I considered my situation. I was lost. Though I had lived many years in Seflora, I had by no means traveled a significant portion of it. Who had time for leisurely trips when conquering a world? I made excursions for business purposes, of course, and walked alone into dragon territory as a boy, but that didn't give me enough knowledge to know exactly what mountain I was leaving behind, or what forest I was entering. Mountains and forests are surprisingly common. I think it has to do with the water that runs down the mountainside when the spring melts the snow on the peak.
Being lost was only a minor problem, though, and one easily remedied by finding someone of whom I could ask directions. The main problem was that, really, the Seflora I knew was a thing of the past. I knew it in two eras- when the Princess ruled it, and when I ruled it. I would have expected the Princess, or at least one of her followers, to retake power in my absence, but the fact that Aluin was both a fugitive and the subject of a curse was an argument against that. Even more worrisome, Aluin had been almost as powerful as myself, so anything that could kick him around was what I like to refer to as a "strategic consideration."
Something to fear, basically.
At the line where the mountain gave way to the forest, I paused and took cover behind a tree. I scanned the mountain, searching for the spot where I had manifested, or something close to it. I waited, giving my feet a chance to rest, and made sure to check the sky every so often. Assuming that the sun hadn't changed its rate of travel since I was last in this dimension, I sat there for an hour. Nevertheless, I somehow managed to miss their arrival. Perhaps they had come while I was still on the mountain paths, but I doubt it, as their first action should have been to investigate those paths, and they certainly moved faster than I did.
I couldn't make the figures out clearly, but they were definitely flying. Their humanoid bodies couldn't have been very aerodynamic, but the pair powerful reptilian wings that came off their backs seemed more than adequate to compensate. Just as I was about to leave them wheeling in the sky above the mountain, a set of new arrivals made their presences known. Three glittering shapes, like dust made of diamonds, approached the mountains from above the cloud cover. Squinting, I thought them bird-shaped, and I was later able to verify that. The spots of glitter descended straight for the spot on the mountain that I had figured to be my starting point.
I decided that it was time to leave.
Moving through the forest was easier, as the moss and dirt of the ground were much more tolerable to my feet than hard rock. I made good time, walking, and I admit that I put more effort into speed than caution, given what I had seen at the mountain. As I walked, I thought some more about my situation, and though it mostly produced a rather bleak list of unknowns, I was able to figure at least one useful thing out.
My feet had healed, you see. The cuts from the stones were gone.
Aluin was one of the few, besides the Princess herself, who could use healing magic. Magic, as it is called, is really two different disciplines. The Constructive Arts and the Deconstructive Arts. The second is most common; it is the application of physics-defying forces to the structure of reality. It is the equivalent of pumping heat into a stack of kindling. The result is a metaphorical fire in that bonds are broken, producing light, smoke, and ash. The Deconstructive Arts is the discipline of applying magic power to reality, and making interesting things happen by breaking reality in very specific ways. It was my own field of expertise. It was quite versatile, but sometimes the best solution was a big bolt of magic energy that would disintegrate anything it touched.
The Constructive Arts are much different. As can be expected of the name, they are the use of magic to create things. I can't explain much more than that, because only a handful has the ability to do it. It's not genetic in any discernable way, but it's definitely determined at a person's birth. Lacking any other explanation, it's considered a function of Destiny. (This is especially frustrating for those, like me, who don't believe in Destiny.) Healing is one possible use of Constructive magic, and given the residual energy in my body that repaired my feat, I deduced that Aluin had healed me when we made contact.
Then, I remembered the way I couldn't even talk, when I first arrived in this dimension, and the flood of memories that followed. Immediately after I awoke from that, I could suddenly speak and stand up. The memories themselves were the final clue; only one healing spell made use of them as fuel for the mending.
The Golden Light spell.
It had felt good.
I was pondering being on the receiving end of a verified miracle when I stumbled out of the forest and onto a road. I wasn't keen to abandon the cover of the trees, especially given that I still didn't have any pants, but roads connected points of civilization, and civilization meant I could ask directions. (And also possibly ask for pants.) More broadly, I could get much more information about Seflora and my predicament, and start procuring assets. I randomly picked a direction, and hit the road. The day was growing darker, and I decided that evening was approaching. I hadn't yet decided what season it was, as my sense of temperature was still a little off from my time in the Agony Dimension, but I wasn't shivering, so I assumed it was healthy enough for a man with no clothes.
In short order, I came across a wagon surrounded by humans. I first saw the scene from a distance, but couldn't tell anything other than that the humans found the wagon to be of interest, but for some reason weren't boarding it or moving it. As I got closer, I saw that most of the humans were wearing identical armored uniforms. Soldiers, then. Even closer, and I could make out the swords on their hips. By that time, I heard the yelling, and could make out the distinctive form of the woman in the heavy robes. Her hair was gray-ish, and she had no visible weapons. Nevertheless, she was loudly of the opinion that the soldiers had no business going through her wagon, and so stood blocking their access to it.
As much as I needed information, I decided that this wasn't the place to get it.
I resolved to pass the scene as nonchalantly as a naked man alone on the road could.
One of the soldiers, the only one who wasn't engaged in yelling at and shoving the woman, noticed me. His armor was plain, like many knights had worn in Seflora, but the stylized face of a bat was etched into the chestplate. "Hey," he said.
I stopped walking. "Yes?"
"You're naked."
I nodded. "A situation I am trying to correct. Is there a town nearby?"
He lowered the visor of his helmet and put a hand on the hilt of the sword at his side. "How does a man come to be naked out here?"
I smiled at him, and held out my hands in a friendly manner. (Not too friendly. I was naked, after all.) "A series of foolish decisions," I said, "followed by interference from a criminal of some kind. I hope I won't have to spell it out. I can just go on my way. I see that you fine sirs are busy."
The soldier drew his sword, a sound that quieted his companions and drew their attention from the woman and her wagon to me. "I'm going to take you in for questioning. Yes, you are going to have to spell your story out, vagrant."
Now, I had no reason to resist. I was merely something out of the ordinary, and knowing professional soldiers as I do, they like to make trouble for anything unexpected. They would probably bring me to the nearest town or city, lock me up for a night, and idly interrogate me. So long as I kept my lies straight, it wouldn't be a problem. They might have a mage with a spell to check truth, but Deconstructive magic is bad at that type of thing, and I knew how to fool all the known methods. I would be inconvenienced, but that was it.
Of course, there was always the risk of worse happening. If any of my predictions failed, I was a fairly notorious figure, and had been brought back by the hand of someone who had become another notorious figure, especially for the current administration (whatever it might be).
Also, there were my personal feelings to account for. I don't like professional soldiers. They enforced the law back home, at least as much as their corruption allowed. I had bad experiences with such people. Even when I ruled Seflora, and allowed monsters to roam free, I hadn't stooped so low as to send humans out with my blessing to oppress people. I had standards. So, really, I wanted to make trouble for these men. It was unwise, perhaps, but I wanted what I wanted.
The final consideration was that no one could make me do anything that I didn't want to.
"No," I said evenly. Then I raised a hand, and summoned one of those bolts of Deconstructive magic that I found so useful. These soldiers would be reduced to light and smoke and ash.
Deconstructive magic is my fire.
Unfortunately, the fire was extinguished.
No bolt of energy emanated from my outstretched hand. Nothing emanated from anything at all. I was so shocked, I didn't even dodge as the soldier unhooked his sheathed sword from his belt, and clocked me over the head with it.
I went out like a campfire in a downpour.
END Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The beginning is difficult to describe. It began in pain, but considering my prior circumstances, that hardly says much of anything. After all, the dimension I was trapped in was a universe of pain. Literally.
Some belief systems speak of a land of punishment, where the wicked are sent to be tortured for all eternity. That actually sounds like a pleasant alternative to what I experienced, because at least the people subject to such a fate would be dead. I, on the other hand, got to live through ten years of a dimension where the laws of physics are written in terms of the sensations they enacted upon my nerve endings. I screamed for at least a year, even though my voice gave out after the first hour. I learned every possible pain, from the sharp pain of a strike to the pressing pain of a body that twists at itself. My whole existence became defined by burning pain, freezing pain, external pain, internal pain, and so on. It was like every micron of the surface of my skin had been burned, glass gravel forced into my muscles, and acid flowed through my veins. Light was like needles in my eyes, and every breath carried abrasive sand that sliced my lungs. The aching of my teeth made me long to rip each one out, but my fingers had no strength in them, so oppressive was the feel of their splintered little bones.
It was a very unpleasant experience.
When it stopped, so suddenly, I discovered a brand new kind of pain- the pain of loss. It was the same pain that drives a newborn to cry as soon as it realizes that it can no longer sense the mother. I had lost my voice after the first week of screaming, but for the first time in the entire decade of torture that followed, I felt the need to try it again. I wish I could say it felt good.
Then, like water in a parched mouth, I heard someone speak. It was real language, an orderly declaration, and it wet the parts of my brain that had thirsted for sanity. Getting control of myself, I stopped screaming, and forced my eyes open to try to see the speaker. I hadn't understood the words yet, but I pushed towards the meaning, moving my mind uphill like an old, moss-covered rock.
I found a shape in the glare, and it spoke again. I think I understood it this time. Mostly. It was asking me something, about myself. I gave the most eloquent answer I could, and groaned.
Then, reality (or whatever this was) fell away, and I found relief. I had not fainted, or otherwise became consumed by nothingness, but was instead treated to a show- my memories, memories that I had not attempted to relive since long before my defeat and extra-dimensional imprisonment. I had few enough good memories, but it seemed that whatever force was at work had found them all and bundled them nicely. I saw the time, when I was quite young, that I found a hidden nook between two adjacent roofs, and was able to sleep in warmth, shielded from the rain. I once again experienced the time I stole an entire meat-roll at the bazaar, fresh from its frying tray. There were times from after my arrival in Seflora, when I escaped that first village I ever saw with a sack full of food, clothes, and valuables. I relived the ceremony when the Sixth-Hand Dragon Mage declared me proficient in the first ring, and awarded me the commemorative scale.
In these memories, I once again bowed before the assembled court of the Princess Yllyria, garbed in layers of the finest white robes, and was anointed as the High Warlock of Deconstructive Arts. After she had placed her little hands on my head, I stood and faced the crowd as they politely cheered, and I basked in the thought that I had just began the final phase of my plan to destroy their world.
No more memories came after that.
When reality returned, I was both more and less comfortable. More, because every physical sensation was no longer an assault on my pain-addicted psyche. Less, because I was lying on unshaped stone, and the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like I was naked. I feel no need to specify where one particularly sharp outcropping was poking me.
Groaning, I rose and opened my eyes once again. This time, I was able to make out my surroundings. Dark rock was everywhere, and the cloudy sky above that was only a shade lighter than the rock. The air was warm, but I had a strange fragile feeling that had me anxious. (More anxious than would be accounted for by my being naked in the middle of nowhere.) The area was silent until a tiny voice cleared its throat behind me.
A little girl, no older than five or six, stood there on the rocky ground. She was dressed in layers and layers of white robes, which had somehow been left unstained by the journey to this little wasteland. Her red hair was tied back into a tail, and her little hands clutched an Arcane Staff (the powered gem was obvious to anyone with any magical training) that easily stood at least twice her height. Something about the sigils stitched into the robe looked familiar, and I know I had seen the staff before. It had just been in the last of the memories I had been forced to view, but it had gone by too quickly for me to easily recall the context.
Then I remembered that I was standing, naked, in front of a little girl. It likewise dawned on me that this was something of a faux pax. Now, I have committed many crimes, including murder and attempted dimensional dissolution, and seeing as I had no hostile (yet) or perverted intentions toward this child, I was not overly concerned with the admittedly bad appearance of the situation. However, I reasoned that this child might have something to do with, if not be entirely responsible for, my escape from the Agony Dimension.
Desiring to be polite, I saw down in a position that provided maximum modesty. "My apologies," I tried to say, and I was surprised that it came out clear and fairly strong, considering that it had been a while since I used my voice for something other than screaming. Heartened, I continued, "I find myself in an odd, mysterious position, but I mean you no harm. Please, where am I? And if you could provide additional pertinent information, I would be very grateful."
I didn't just study magic, after I escaped my home dimension. I rather enjoyed learning how to talk to people.
The child gave me a hard stare. "The last time you saw me," she said, "you turned me into stone and had me placed above the main gate of your palace, as a trophy. You left my mind and soul intact so that I could watch as you destroyed Seflora."
I knew I recognized that staff and robe.
This was bad.
I tensed, and began assessing tactical possibilities, but strangely, I did not feel fear. What could even my worst recurring enemy do to me that I hadn't already experienced in the Agony Dimension? Kill me? What I had wasn't really a life. Torture me? I had already been tortured by a whole reality. If anything, being retrieved from that dimension, to die here in a relatively quick manner, was a mercy.
And so I had my strategy. "Aluin," I said, nodding politely at the little girl who claimed to be my old enemy. "It's nice to see you again. Although, I seem to recall you being an old man, before."
The little girl who was somehow Aluin gave me a baleful glare. "My circumstances are a bit reduced at this point in time."
I nodded like I understood. I may have been completely at her (his?) mercy, but it was not in my nature to show weakness, however silly it might be.
Aluin finally sighed. "Punarj," she addressed me by name, "I don't forgive you for what you did. I think you deserve to remain in the Agony Dimension, and I would gladly leave you there if I had any choice. But... things have deteriorated since you were cast out, and I'm really scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of ways to fight back."
The squeaky voice did not match with the speaking style of my old enemy, and while I might have mocked the situation during the height of my power, I just felt weariness now. "You want to ally with me. Use me as a weapon."
At this, Aluin smiled. It was a horrible smile to see on a child's face. "No. I want to use you as a distraction. My enemies will have detected all the magic I expended to bring you back here. Knowing you, I trust you'll make yourself a nuisance to any who pursue you. Meanwhile, I can make my own plans."
A sinking feeling grew in my stomach. "Don't you dare leave me here. Naked!"
"Goodbye, Punarj Anma."
Then she teleported away.
My first thought at the time was, "That son of a- daughter of a-"
My second thought was, "Never mind."
I turned off my brain, picked a direction that looked like a path through this wasteland, and ran.
*
The lack of shoes bothered me more than the lack of pants.
Still, I hadn't started wearing shoes until I came to Seflora, so my feet had calluses on them that made even the rocky ground endurable. Also, the pain I felt whenever I stepped on a pebble or sharp outcropping was nothing compared to the torture I had been experiencing not an hour before. Compared to agonies that struck of every level of my senses, what was a mere flesh wound? At one point, I managed to walk a dragon's length before realizing that I had cut open the bottom of my left foot, and had been dribbling a trail of blood on the stone path.
When I saw, I shrugged and kept walking.
As I traveled, I considered my situation. I was lost. Though I had lived many years in Seflora, I had by no means traveled a significant portion of it. Who had time for leisurely trips when conquering a world? I made excursions for business purposes, of course, and walked alone into dragon territory as a boy, but that didn't give me enough knowledge to know exactly what mountain I was leaving behind, or what forest I was entering. Mountains and forests are surprisingly common. I think it has to do with the water that runs down the mountainside when the spring melts the snow on the peak.
Being lost was only a minor problem, though, and one easily remedied by finding someone of whom I could ask directions. The main problem was that, really, the Seflora I knew was a thing of the past. I knew it in two eras- when the Princess ruled it, and when I ruled it. I would have expected the Princess, or at least one of her followers, to retake power in my absence, but the fact that Aluin was both a fugitive and the subject of a curse was an argument against that. Even more worrisome, Aluin had been almost as powerful as myself, so anything that could kick him around was what I like to refer to as a "strategic consideration."
Something to fear, basically.
At the line where the mountain gave way to the forest, I paused and took cover behind a tree. I scanned the mountain, searching for the spot where I had manifested, or something close to it. I waited, giving my feet a chance to rest, and made sure to check the sky every so often. Assuming that the sun hadn't changed its rate of travel since I was last in this dimension, I sat there for an hour. Nevertheless, I somehow managed to miss their arrival. Perhaps they had come while I was still on the mountain paths, but I doubt it, as their first action should have been to investigate those paths, and they certainly moved faster than I did.
I couldn't make the figures out clearly, but they were definitely flying. Their humanoid bodies couldn't have been very aerodynamic, but the pair powerful reptilian wings that came off their backs seemed more than adequate to compensate. Just as I was about to leave them wheeling in the sky above the mountain, a set of new arrivals made their presences known. Three glittering shapes, like dust made of diamonds, approached the mountains from above the cloud cover. Squinting, I thought them bird-shaped, and I was later able to verify that. The spots of glitter descended straight for the spot on the mountain that I had figured to be my starting point.
I decided that it was time to leave.
Moving through the forest was easier, as the moss and dirt of the ground were much more tolerable to my feet than hard rock. I made good time, walking, and I admit that I put more effort into speed than caution, given what I had seen at the mountain. As I walked, I thought some more about my situation, and though it mostly produced a rather bleak list of unknowns, I was able to figure at least one useful thing out.
My feet had healed, you see. The cuts from the stones were gone.
Aluin was one of the few, besides the Princess herself, who could use healing magic. Magic, as it is called, is really two different disciplines. The Constructive Arts and the Deconstructive Arts. The second is most common; it is the application of physics-defying forces to the structure of reality. It is the equivalent of pumping heat into a stack of kindling. The result is a metaphorical fire in that bonds are broken, producing light, smoke, and ash. The Deconstructive Arts is the discipline of applying magic power to reality, and making interesting things happen by breaking reality in very specific ways. It was my own field of expertise. It was quite versatile, but sometimes the best solution was a big bolt of magic energy that would disintegrate anything it touched.
The Constructive Arts are much different. As can be expected of the name, they are the use of magic to create things. I can't explain much more than that, because only a handful has the ability to do it. It's not genetic in any discernable way, but it's definitely determined at a person's birth. Lacking any other explanation, it's considered a function of Destiny. (This is especially frustrating for those, like me, who don't believe in Destiny.) Healing is one possible use of Constructive magic, and given the residual energy in my body that repaired my feat, I deduced that Aluin had healed me when we made contact.
Then, I remembered the way I couldn't even talk, when I first arrived in this dimension, and the flood of memories that followed. Immediately after I awoke from that, I could suddenly speak and stand up. The memories themselves were the final clue; only one healing spell made use of them as fuel for the mending.
The Golden Light spell.
It had felt good.
I was pondering being on the receiving end of a verified miracle when I stumbled out of the forest and onto a road. I wasn't keen to abandon the cover of the trees, especially given that I still didn't have any pants, but roads connected points of civilization, and civilization meant I could ask directions. (And also possibly ask for pants.) More broadly, I could get much more information about Seflora and my predicament, and start procuring assets. I randomly picked a direction, and hit the road. The day was growing darker, and I decided that evening was approaching. I hadn't yet decided what season it was, as my sense of temperature was still a little off from my time in the Agony Dimension, but I wasn't shivering, so I assumed it was healthy enough for a man with no clothes.
In short order, I came across a wagon surrounded by humans. I first saw the scene from a distance, but couldn't tell anything other than that the humans found the wagon to be of interest, but for some reason weren't boarding it or moving it. As I got closer, I saw that most of the humans were wearing identical armored uniforms. Soldiers, then. Even closer, and I could make out the swords on their hips. By that time, I heard the yelling, and could make out the distinctive form of the woman in the heavy robes. Her hair was gray-ish, and she had no visible weapons. Nevertheless, she was loudly of the opinion that the soldiers had no business going through her wagon, and so stood blocking their access to it.
As much as I needed information, I decided that this wasn't the place to get it.
I resolved to pass the scene as nonchalantly as a naked man alone on the road could.
One of the soldiers, the only one who wasn't engaged in yelling at and shoving the woman, noticed me. His armor was plain, like many knights had worn in Seflora, but the stylized face of a bat was etched into the chestplate. "Hey," he said.
I stopped walking. "Yes?"
"You're naked."
I nodded. "A situation I am trying to correct. Is there a town nearby?"
He lowered the visor of his helmet and put a hand on the hilt of the sword at his side. "How does a man come to be naked out here?"
I smiled at him, and held out my hands in a friendly manner. (Not too friendly. I was naked, after all.) "A series of foolish decisions," I said, "followed by interference from a criminal of some kind. I hope I won't have to spell it out. I can just go on my way. I see that you fine sirs are busy."
The soldier drew his sword, a sound that quieted his companions and drew their attention from the woman and her wagon to me. "I'm going to take you in for questioning. Yes, you are going to have to spell your story out, vagrant."
Now, I had no reason to resist. I was merely something out of the ordinary, and knowing professional soldiers as I do, they like to make trouble for anything unexpected. They would probably bring me to the nearest town or city, lock me up for a night, and idly interrogate me. So long as I kept my lies straight, it wouldn't be a problem. They might have a mage with a spell to check truth, but Deconstructive magic is bad at that type of thing, and I knew how to fool all the known methods. I would be inconvenienced, but that was it.
Of course, there was always the risk of worse happening. If any of my predictions failed, I was a fairly notorious figure, and had been brought back by the hand of someone who had become another notorious figure, especially for the current administration (whatever it might be).
Also, there were my personal feelings to account for. I don't like professional soldiers. They enforced the law back home, at least as much as their corruption allowed. I had bad experiences with such people. Even when I ruled Seflora, and allowed monsters to roam free, I hadn't stooped so low as to send humans out with my blessing to oppress people. I had standards. So, really, I wanted to make trouble for these men. It was unwise, perhaps, but I wanted what I wanted.
The final consideration was that no one could make me do anything that I didn't want to.
"No," I said evenly. Then I raised a hand, and summoned one of those bolts of Deconstructive magic that I found so useful. These soldiers would be reduced to light and smoke and ash.
Deconstructive magic is my fire.
Unfortunately, the fire was extinguished.
No bolt of energy emanated from my outstretched hand. Nothing emanated from anything at all. I was so shocked, I didn't even dodge as the soldier unhooked his sheathed sword from his belt, and clocked me over the head with it.
I went out like a campfire in a downpour.
END Chapter 1