Ever heard of the theory of alternate universes?
They’re true, but not the way you think. There’s an exact replica of Earth, like a reflection. Like looking in a mirror, but the other side is different.
The side we live on is dull. Boring. Science based.
The reflection?
It’s magic! Everyone has the ability to wield magic. Need milk? Simply will it into being! Want to travel to work? Close your eyes and imagine yourself there! Need a unicorn for your kid’s birthday? Rent one from a unicorn farm, of course!
So when a child is born with zero magical abilities, ripples begin to happen.
Ripples like those on the surface of a pond when you throw a rock in. Ripples that could shatter the glass and alter both reflections forever.
Can the non-magical child be taken to the science side before balance is lost and both worlds destroyed?
And what happens if there’s a magical child living on the science-based side?

Get the complete series now! 

Prologue

Rae paced the living room, unable to hear the creaking floorboard over the screams from the bedroom. The midwife shooed him. He listened anyway; anxiety and the narrow confines of the cottage made it impossible not to. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard the floorboards cry underfoot. Four times, he’d heard them between bouts of Ella’s screams while she tried to give birth. Twice it had ended with Rae digging a small grave in the garden, just beyond the pumpkin patch, his eyes burning from lack of sleep, his hands soft on the body of his dead child.

Ella had stopped screaming. Rae froze momentarily in front of the window, staring out at the mountains; the sun was hovering high above them. It had been his idea to build their cottage out in the mountains, far from civilization, and she’d agreed with him at the time. Neither of them had realized how much work it would be eking out a living from the mountainous soil and thin air that constantly had them panting and resting whenever they went out to work on the farm or to feed their unicorns. Still, the views were breathtaking, and Rae had always dreamed of sharing them with his children, and of raising his children in peace and happiness. Ella also envisaged an ideal for their children, but she was as determined as he, even though he’d feared for her safety after the first two miscarriages and the deaths of their other children.

Ella started screaming again. Joanna, the neighbor’s daughter, who was assisting the midwife, ran out of the bedroom with an empty bucket swinging madly on her wrist. Rae grabbed her other arm and looked her in the eye.

“Is she…?”

Rae swallowed, leaving the question unfinished. Joanna, at a whole fifteen years old, looked up at Rae, eyes wide, then squirmed out of his grip and bolted out of the house at the midwife’s shout for more water.

It wasn’t just an incredibly sad or horrific occurrence, Rae reflected; it was also incredibly strange. Even someone as impoverished as Rae wasn’t out of reach of modern healthcare and medicine, and most births these days were completed successfully. They’d spoken to nearly every available doctor, midwife, witch doctor, mage—even some African mages who claimed they could tap into the magic of the soul—and all had given the same answer: they had no idea whatsoever. The doctors had declared the baby healthy and normal; there should have been no issue whatsoever; midwives had proudly announced both births as progressing safely and healthily, and the mages had all commented on how healthy Ella’s body was. Aside from the deep emotional scars from losing a child, Ella bounced back relatively quickly from each miscarriage or stillbirth, no doubt a contributing factor to her deep desire for a child. But Rae could still see that it was starting to drain her and that this birth was worse than all the others combined. There would not be another one, he realized. Sparks flew from his fingertips as Ella let out a particularly wailing cry. Rae cursed himself, gritted his teeth, and squashed the tension in his gut, quenching the flames threatening to burst out of his fingertips. Ella would no doubt let him have it, if he set fire to the furniture. Then, he remembered Ella again, and the tension began to rise once more in its terrible cycle.

Rae barely registered Joanna re-entering the bedroom, the full bucket in her arms sloshing as she slammed the door behind her. Rae collapsed into the armchair by the fire, his body spent, and his mind too weak to continue.

A new cry that trailed off woke Rae. Blearily rubbing his eyes and adjusting his glasses on his face, he stood from the chair, cracking his neck violently as he rushed to the bedroom door, registering Ella’s silence, and the darkness that now engulfed the cottage. He flipped the light switch anxiously, then squinted in the sudden light as he grabbed the door handle with his trembling hand. Yanking it open, heart in his mouth, he dashed into the bedroom, only to stumble backward when he almost slammed face-first into the midwife. The woman shushed him with a stern look and her free hand, then closed the door behind her.

“She’s resting, Rae,” said the midwife. “She’ll be fine, but she needs time.”

Rae nodded, gulped, and turned his attention to the bundle of blankets in her arm. Apprehension staggered his speech:

“Is that…?”

The question didn’t need continuation.

“A healthy, baby boy, Rae. Congratulations, but be quiet! He’s finally asleep.”

The sense of relief that hit Rae flushed the tension. He asked, “Can I hold him?”

“Sure, I’ve just got to perform the ritual first.”

Rae nodded. The ritual was of absolute importance. Reaching over to the worn leather bag on the living room table, the midwife sat heavily in the same armchair where Rae had sat, and she pulled out a large handful of pink dust. Muttering words too faint for Rae to hear, she sprinkled the dust over the child’s head. Rae held his breath. The ritual was only a precaution, but one that had been a tradition among the People since the Gift; there shouldn’t have been any issues whatsoever.

A thundering, rolling sound echoed through the mountains. The house shook madly. Pictures fell. Windows shattered. Rae lost his balance and fell, grabbing for anything to support him as he tried to get to his son. Just as soon as it had started, the quake ended, leaving behind a roaring, thunderous rumble in the air.

“Strange,” said the midwife, with a new look at the sleeping babe in her arms. “Very strange.”

Chapter 1

Lila was incredibly bored. When her uncle Jaskilion had pushed her to apply at the Bureau of Magical Affairs, a boring desk job wasn’t what she’d had in mind. Something along the line of intense magical research or fighting along the front lines with her Special Forces comrades was what she’d imagined. A fresh graduate of The National Academy, she’d been ready to enter the world and work hard for what she believed in. On some level, she knew that paperwork would have to be fulfilled and that there were people whose jobs were to manage that, but she’d never imagined she would become one of those people. A full three weeks had already passed since she’d started working there, and her life didn’t look like it was about to change any time soon.

Sighing, Lila squinted at her desktop monitor and waved her wand, pulling an impossibly tall tower of papers toward her. Eyeing the stack as it wobbled precariously, she tapped away at her desktop and put in a request for the next batch. With a jab and a twirl of her wand, the pile was divided into another five three-foot-tall stacks, sorted by department, and organized firstly by the associated agent’s name, then age, place of residence, nationality, and, finally, favorite color. There were a lot of agents, and the Bureau was unforgiving. When Lila had first heard that the Bureau wanted new files compiled on all active and non-active agents, she’d assumed a simple reorganization of the old would suffice, but the Bureau was relentless, and a job that would have taken a single employee five minutes anywhere else in the world now required a task force of five workers, alternating shifts, for five weeks. Reorganizing, naming, filing, and researching to collect seemingly unnecessary bits of data. Who cared if Agent Nazeem’s dream-retirement home was on a cloud, or if Agent Mede had an identical twin? Lila fully supported the commitment of any office toward maintaining updated records, but a certain amount of discretion was definitely required when it came to their agents. Agents were entitled to their privacy, no matter the work they performed for the department.

An hour and a half and an inch into the first stack, Lila decided it was time for an early brunch break and snapped her wand onto her smartphone, tapping it on the base to boot up the device. Wandering over to the video-calling app, she was about to start a hovering telecall when her supervisor, Callum, walked in.

“Ah, I see you’re hard at work, Lila,” he commented cheerfully.

Flushing, Lila dropped her phone into her lap and turned back to her papers.

“Sorry, sir,” she said, wincing apologetically. “I’ll get back to work.”

“It’s pretty boring, huh?” 

Not exactly the response she’d expected from Callum, but what was she to do? The task had come straight from the head office; it had to be finished, or her job was pretty much forfeit. “Well, yeah, but it’s work, right? Someone has to do it.”

“You know what? Put all of that away,” said Callum. He scratched the rough beard on his chin; his smile dropped slightly. “We’ve reached the goal of this task sooner than expected, so you don’t need to go through with it anymore.”

Stranger and stranger. The head office had never canceled anything early before, and Lila couldn’t see them throwing away an administrative project of this magnitude. If they’re at liberty to just throw it all away now, Lila thought, what was the point of the whole thing in the first place? And why did Callum look so uncomfortable?

“What’s going on, Callum? Wasn’t this assignment straight from head office? And what happened to the whole, ‘If this isn’t completed by next week, your life is forfeit’ mentality?” Lila didn’t have anything else to do at this point, so the least she could do was wonder about the Bureau’s motivation. 

Although Callum was her supervisor, and her division was pretty low on the food chain, she’d heard a lot of rumors about how close he was with the Director, and how he’d been seen hanging around the office late at night. She’d always found it hard to reconcile that image with the cheerful, no-nonsense supervisor. The Director was a pretty shady character; he only ever appeared in the shadows of the Bureau’s greatest missions, yet he was masterminding every single operation that originated in those very halls. Lila knew she would meet the Director someday as she climbed the corporate ladder, but the lack of knowledge on who the Director was had shrouded everyone in fear of the unknown, and if there was something Lila didn’t like, it was the unknown.

“Actually, the Director wants to see you,” Callum said, turning slightly to the door and motioning for her to follow.

“What? Seriously?” Lila jumped to her feet. “You’re talking about the Director, right? With a capital D?”

“Do you know any other directors at this office?” Callum said, raising an eyebrow. When she shook her head, he started to walk out of the office. “Come on, the Director doesn’t approve of tardiness, and it’s a long walk to the top.”

After detaching the wand from her phone, Lila jammed it into her business suit pocket and hurried after Callum, turning off the lights in the room and locking the door behind her with a wave of her wand. Callum nodded approvingly. Lila shrugged.

“No sense wasting Magicka if no one’s in the room,” she said.

“True,” Callum said as they walked down the corridor to the train bank. “I keep telling everyone in the department to turn off their lights, but half the time I feel like I’m talking to myself.”

Lila didn’t like ratting out her colleagues, but she silently agreed with Callum. Although they were in the same department, most of her coworkers usually failed to see the consequences of using Magicka for everyday purposes and heedlessly did whatever they liked. She was the newest member of the group, and it seemed like the Department of Records was a cesspit of everyone the Bureau wanted to keep around but couldn’t do anything useful with. It was a miracle that someone like Callum had been assigned to be the Department’s supervisor; anyone else would have lost it five minutes into the first group-meeting with every employee lazing around or doing whatever they liked. Lila was surprised that none of them had been fired already with the amount of work that kept getting pumped into the office. She barely finished what she was assigned, but everything seemed to be completed on time. Strange. The pair quickly passed out of the corridor attached to the Department of Records and made their way over to the interdepartmental train station. 

“Mind the gap,” Callum cautioned as they waited for the train. “The trains here are a custom type the Bureau developed to facilitate faster travel between departments, so there aren’t any guard rails over the void-tracks. We lost a couple of agents a few months ago when they were messing around. They fell into the void, went blind, and were sent flying by the next train. Very unpleasant business, especially collecting all the body parts from around the office.”

Lila, who’d never had cause to use the Bureau’s trains before, eyed the black gap in the Department’s wall warily and backed away from the yellow warning line hovering in the air above it. Callum pressed the call button and hummed tunelessly, waiting patiently. 

“Hey Jarpen, how’s your morning been?” Callum addressed the conductor once the train had arrived, and its polished doors had slid open.

“So-so,” said the conductor, a portly man in a leather uniform with red trim that was a signature to the support staff of the Bureau. “Been a lot of running around, surprisingly,” he added. “Got any idea why?”

“I just might,” said Callum mysteriously. “Be prepared for a lot more running around than what you’ve seen so far.”

“Right-O. Where are you guys headed?”

“Take us to the top, Jarpen.”

“Oh, going to see the Director?”

“Right again, Jarpen. Could you hurry us up a bit? We’re on a bit of a tight schedule.”

“Gotcha. Strap in, please, miss. This might get a bit bumpy.”

Lila obediently strapped herself into one of the four seats in the small carriage. Swallowing, she tightened the strap another notch as Callum and Jarpen did the same. Smiling professionally from his special conductor’s seat at the train’s controls, Jarpen expertly floated the train away from the platform and into the void before a jolt of acceleration hit them, and they were off.

Ignoring the weight on her chest from the acceleration, Lila peered through the window of the train, trying to get a glimpse of the other departments as they passed by, but the train was too fast, only affording her the occasional glimpse of light as Jarpen expertly maneuvered them through the void to the highest floor in the building. Of course, calling it the highest floor was as much a simplification as calling it a building. Still, Lila understood enough about interdimensional warping and wormholes to understand that the train could link places that were way too far apart for them to be considered part of the same building. It also saved immensely on rent, making it an incredibly popular office arrangement for CEOs around the world. The drain on the office’s Magicka network was probably considerable for a train at this speed, but it seemed as though this high-speed travel was reserved for special occasions, judging from what Callum had said.

“So, how’s everything been at work?” Callum asked, breaking the silence.

Lila turned to face him as best as she could in the seat. A pretty strange line of questioning, considering that he was her supervisor.

“Well enough, I suppose.” A neutral reply was probably the best thing she could put in here; not being too enthusiastic about the paperwork, but also not objecting too much to look like a complainer.

“You looked bored out of your mind,” joked Callum. “I bet this is nothing like what you did in the Academy.”

“Yeah, a lot of the courses I took were practical.”

“I heard. Especially about what you did in the magical combat course. The highest score ever recorded!”

Lila blushed at the praise, but it was true. Back in the Academy, one of the courses she’d chosen was magical combat, the most difficult practical course in the university. It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park; even she had been surprised when the invigilator had told her that, although her performance was in the normal ’Excellent’ category, her raw power had exceeded all previously known records.

“Well, I’d always known I had a bit more power than average. It’s taken me a lot of work to control it properly, although that was the first time I’d ever had an objective comparison to it.”

Callum nodded, but he seemed far away, thinking about something else.

The weight on Lila’s chest lightened, then suddenly disappeared, and she slammed hard into her straps. Jarpen cleared his throat and announced their arrival unnecessarily. Lila and Callum unstrapped and walked through the door and onto the platform. They waved to Jarpen, and with a salute, he pulled away from the platform to whatever travelers were waiting. Callum left the platform, and Lila followed, struggling to match his long stride without running.

“We’re almost late,” said Callum, pulling an ornate pocket watch out of his waistcoat.

“Wait, you haven’t told me what I’m here for,” began Lila, anxiously.

“Everything will be explained once we’re inside,” said Callum, approaching a large wooden door at the end of the corridor. “Just remember to address the Director properly if you want to go home with all your limbs attached,” he added, smiling. Lila swallowed again, and Callum motioned to the door, standing aside. 

Tightening her focus, Lila stepped forward and reached for the brass doorknob, only for the entire door to disappear at her touch.

A quick step back and a glance both ways confirmed that the way was clear, so Lila stepped through the doorway and into a comfortable-looking office. The floor was made of dark, rich wood, and covered with a thick elven carpet. A set of antique couches were clustered opposite the doorway, and bookcases lined the walls where classical paintings weren’t hanging. The taste was elegant and devoid of personal input. The Director’s desk was to the right of the doorway, so visitors had to turn to the right to speak to the Director, and the Director could clearly see them as they entered. Turning, Lila stepped up to the Director’s desk. Callum shortly followed. The man himself was standing behind the desk, reading some documents.

“Director, this is Lila Bakurets, the new employee in the Department of Records,” Callum announced.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” added Lila, making sure she was heard.

Director Alfador looked up at her for a brief moment before motioning for her to be seated. “You may begin, Callum,” he said, looking down at his documents again.

Lila sat in the hard armchair in front of the Director’s desk, then stood and dragged it around to sit at an angle to both Callum and the Director. Callum’s shoulders had dropped a fraction at the Director’s reaction, and he began to speak.

“What do you know about natural disasters, Lila?” asked Callum.

“Disasters? Like reathquakes and tsunamis, you mean?” Callum nodded. “As best as I can remember, before the Gift, the forces of the Reath occasionally battered the disasters around a bit, killing huge numbers of people at a time. They manifested as huge waves of earth, water, air, or lava and destroyed civilizations each time.” Lila frowned. “But how is this relevant, again? The Gift has stopped all those disasters from ever occurring, and all the records we have of disasters like those are ancient.”

“Well, they’re happening again,” said Callum excitedly. Lila turned to face him; her expression sharpened.

“How? And why haven’t I heard about this yet?”

“Well, as for your second question, you haven’t heard about it, because these disasters have mainly been happening in Opar, and they haven’t been powerful enough yet for us to feel them across the ocean.”

“Yet?”

“That’s the second part—the how,” interrupted the Director. “And it’s top-secret. More top-secret than you can imagine.”

The Director slid a thick slab of paper over to her, along with a heavy-looking pen.

“Sign these. They’re magical non-disclosure agreements. They won’t stop you from breaking under torture, but, break them intentionally, and we’ll find out instantly.”

Lila picked up the pen, hesitated, then put it down.

“I don’t understand,” said Lila, shaking her head. “What exactly is going on?”

Callum glanced at the Director, then turned back to Lila.

“Put simply, the Bureau has a top-secret mission, and we want you to do it.”

This was pretty much what Lila had been looking for, but she was wary.

“What is in it for me?” 

“How’s your job security?” The Director questioned somewhat innocently. “And your survival?”

Lila looked at the Director and finally met his eyes. She saw a man burdened by the weight of the world. A middle-aged man, dark-skinned, with deep lines on his face and hair greying at the temples, but those eyes were the eyes of a man who’d stared death in the face countless times and returned to tell the tale. There was no deceit in those eyes.

Lila took the papers, inked the pen, and signed the papers one by one. A faint hum emanated from each paper as she scrawled her signature on the lines where Callum indicated. When she was finished, the entire stack floated into the air and glowed a faint white before disappearing, leaving an identical stack with the watermark ‘COPY’ where the original had been. Holding the stack gingerly, Lila had the faintest sense that she’d just begun something very much out of her depth. Carefully putting the papers in her phone with a wave of her wand and a blue glow much less impressive than the Director’s, Lila turned back to the Director and took a deep breath.

“So, what’s this all about?” she said, expecting the Director to finally start explaining.

Callum smiled and walked over to the bookcase behind the Director’s chair. “Was it this one?” he said to himself, tracing his finger over the various references on the third shelf.

“Advanced Magical Theory Volume III, Callum. You’d think that by now you’d remember which one it was,” said the Director, rolling his eyes, still reading the documents on his desk. “It is the signed copy, after all.”

“Wait, you have a signed copy of Newton’s Advanced Magical Theory?” demanded Lila. She was no bibliophile, but even she’d heard of Newton’s legendary text.

“All in good time, Miss Bakurets,” said the Director, seeming suddenly at ease. “As soon as Callum gets going, you’ll have all the answers you desire.”

“Got it!” shouted Callum triumphantly. With a loud clanking noise, Callum yanked at the massive tome violently, and the bookcase to his immediate left swung open like a door. Noticing Lila’s amazed expression, Callum grinned at her and waved toward the small polished steel room behind the bookcase. 

“After you,” he said, and motioned toward the mysterious cubicle.

Chapter 1

Lila followed Callum into the cubicle. It was akin to the train they’d taken on the way to the Director’s office but taller than it was wide and lacking chairs or seating of any kind. The entire floor was about two square yards in area, just large enough for Callum, Lila, and the Director to stand comfortably without touching. The rear wall was covered with a mirror, and Lila unconsciously scratched her nose when she saw her reflection on the way in. When the Director stepped in, the bookcase closed behind him, and two steel doors slid in from both sides of the empty wall, sealing them in. If it weren’t for some strange group of lightbulbs fixed into the ceiling, the cubicle would have been pitch black. With an uncomfortable lurch, an ominous creaking whirring sound emanated somewhere above the cubicle, and they began to descend. Lila, expecting a forward motion like on the train, lost her balance for a second. Hoping no one noticed, she steadied herself with a touch to the cool wall. Unfortunately, Callum noticed and gave her a smile and a thumbs-up.

“It’s called an elevator,” he explained. “It’s basically a train, only one that goes up and down.”

“What’s that noise then?” said Lila, gesturing upwards. “Trains don’t make noises like that. The bookcase did the same. What’s all this?”

“Most of this will make sense when we reach the bottom,” said the Director. “You’ll get the full explanation there, but it is enough to say that we can’t allow any magic to operate on this carriage or anything else we come in contact with. You’ll have to hand in your wand and anything enchanted on your person when we get to the lab, so make sure you have everything in order.”

“So, we’re actually traveling, not warping like the office trains, right?” questioned Lila. “Warping would use too much magic, which you don’t want to happen where we’re going.”

“Exactly,” confirmed the Director.

Lila silently filed the information away. Clearly, the Director and Callum were involved in some sort of operation. Repelling disasters? Taming the planet’s magic, perhaps? Unfortunately, the ride down the elevator was much longer than she’d expected, and she soon found herself leaning against the wall, waiting patiently and occasionally popping her ears when the pressure became too intense.

“How deep does this thing go?” Lila asked.

“Deep enough,” replied the Director, who’d pulled out a watch similar to Callum’s and was winding it, oddly enough. Callum had pulled out the previous morning’s newspaper and was solving the crossword. Leaning over, Lila whispered, “Aegan Drakon.” In reply to Callum’s questioning look, she shrugged and added, “It’s fifteen across.”

After a half-hour of descent, the elevator slowed to a crawl, then stopped. The steel doors slid open to reveal a small, rock-walled corridor, followed by a similar room filled with two figures wearing white containment suits on the other side, complete with full head-coverings, helmets, and oxygen supplies. Lila had seen suits like these before when she was doing her report on the magical plague of 932 AG, and she knew she’d probably have to wear one, too, if wherever they were going was magically contained.

“Leave your stuff here,” said Callum. The Director had gone ahead to speak with one of the white figures; this one had an orange band around his helmet. “We can’t take anything magical in, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave as much as you can in one of these lockers, and then head into the changing room. We’ve left you some de-magicked clothes there, and a containment jumpsuit, to make sure no magic whatsoever enters the site.”

“Seems pretty heavy-duty,” Lila commented as she stuffed her phone, wand, watch, and keys into her locker. “Most hospitals don’t have this much security.”

“Most hospitals don’t get close to needing this much security,” said Callum mysteriously.

One of the technicians handed her a jumpsuit with a red band around the crown of the helmet and led her into a small changing cubicle. A quick change later, and she was back in the security room. A figure wearing a similar jumpsuit knocked on her helmet, and squinting through their faceplate, Lila saw Callum’s face.

“We’re going through the arches, Lila. The Director’s already gone ahead.” Callum motioned towards a set of three dull, gray arches. The other technician pressed a button on a panel set into the side of one of the arches as soon as Callum had stepped underneath them, and the arches glowed a bright, sickly green. Callum grimaced and walked through and out successfully. The technician waved to Lila, and she walked under the arches as Callum had.

“Anything magical on you?” the technician asked. “The demagickators will break the enchantments on anything that passes through them. So, anything you bring becomes a piece of junk as soon as the cycle’s over.”

“Nope, everything’s in my locker,” Lila said. The technician nodded, then started to activate the arches again. The panels on the inside of the arches began to glow.

“Wait!” shouted Callum. “Her helmet’s unsealed!”

The technician jumped and, cursing furiously, unplugged the panel from the arches, causing them to cool back down to a dull gray. Lila looked down at her jumpsuit, confused. She had sealed the helmet. The lack of magical sizing had bothered her when she’d first put on the helmet, but then she’d squeezed it onto the suit and twisted, causing it to lock. Callum reached over, under the arches, and twisted the helmet another fraction of an inch.

“There, now it’s fully locked,” he said, sighing with relief. “If we’d missed that, you could have been toast.”

Now thoroughly perplexed, Lila looked at the technician, who booted up the arches again. Passing through them successfully, Lila followed Callum out of the security room and into another rock-lined corridor. The path twisted and turned so much that Lila lost track of where they were in relation to the elevator. Finally, they came to a round steel door, similar to a bank vault’s.

“An airlock,” said Callum as they walked through. “Keeps the magicked air out, you know.”

Lila nodded as the two waited for the lock to cycle. A loud squealing broke the silence when the door swung closed, and Lila began to ask what it was when she remembered the restrictions on magic. Must be the pumps, she thought. When the cycle was done, the other door swung open, and a wave of heat hit Lila through the suit’s faceplate.

The airlock opened onto a large, hangar-shaped cave. The space was open in the center, enough to fit a whole four-engine airplane in the middle. The cave’s walls were bare and rocky, just like the corridors, and the room was at least five stories high. The right side of the cave was full of pockets populated by jump-suited technicians with different colored bands painted on their helmets, tapping away at computers or shuffling papers around. The entire place was in an uproar with workers moving around and carrying objects this way and that, and the pool of lava covering the back half of the floor didn’t help the atmosphere one bit, serving as a source of heat with occasional loud bubbling noises.

“Just how deep are we?” asked Lila, turning to Callum.

“Deep enough to find that,” he said, pointing.

The left side of the cave lacked the pockets the right side had, but only because it was covered by a giant black ring. Perfectly symmetrical, the ring just barely touched the ground and ceiling, and its inside was filled with a massive mirror. The ring itself seemed to be made of some kind of black rock, although the texture was marred by the occasional purple stone or chunk of volcanic glass, giving it a rough, natural overall look. A group of technicians wearing black robes were gathered around the base of the ring, where a staircase was erected to meet the center of the mirror. One of the technicians tapped something on the base of the ring, and the mirror suddenly turned transparent, revealing a similar chamber on the other side, but containing a much larger number of figures wearing orange and yellow clothing. Another couple of taps and the figures disappeared from view, the portal returning to its original mirror form, reflecting the interior of the room to itself.

From her place on the entrance platform to the cave, Lila could see the entire ring, and looking at it gave her an uncomfortable sensation. Her bones seemed to have been filled with lead, and she broke out in a cold sweat. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Callum looking at her.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“A bit weird,” Lila admitted. “Like this ring doesn’t belong here, and my body isn’t happy with it.”

Callum nodded. “A better reaction than most have on their first time. Come on— the Director’s just over there. He’ll explain everything.”

The pair walked over to a ladder, climbed down, and walked to the group of black-robed technicians. The tallest figure, with a bright white band around his helmet, broke off from the group and made his way over to the two of them. It was the Director.

“Welcome, Miss Bakurets, to the Prime Mirror,” the Director said with the air of a man revealing a work of art.

“Well, it is a pretty big mirror,” Lila said, “but what makes it Prime, exactly?”

“The answer is simple,” said the Director. “This is the gateway between this world and its reflection.”

“Reflection?” asked Lila, frowning. “You make it sound like there’s some other kind of world out there.”

“Close, but not quite,” said the Director. He turned away from the Mirror and began to walk to the lava pit. Callum indicated that Lila should follow him, and he turned to talk to the other technicians. Turning, the Director checked that Lila was following, and when they’d made their way far enough from the Mirror that they weren’t standing in front of any part of it anymore, the Director stopped and stared Lila in the eyes.

“What is magic?”

Lila paused before answering, “Magic is a natural form of energy that can be influenced by will and emotion.”

“So, only people can use magic?”

“Animals can, too.”

“What about rocks and trees?”

“Rocks and trees don’t have emotions or wills, sir.”

The Director nodded.

“That is the explanation currently taught in schools and universities across the country, as per our regulations. It is correct to the best of our knowledge. However, discoveries made in this room over the past fifty years have shown us that this is only the basis of magic.”

Lila nodded, following. Her eyes slid over to the Mirror for a second, before flickering back to the Director. She was now certain the chill she’d felt before had to do with the Mirror’s magic.

The Director noticed. “The Mirror is indeed magical. What most people forget, though, is that magic hasn’t always existed in our world.”

“The Gift,” said Lila.

“Precisely. Roughly a thousand years ago, both humans and animals realized that they could access this new form of energy. Huge numbers mysteriously died out, and birthrates of humans and animals alike never recovered, but new races and subspecies emerged as a result of the effect of this magic on its users. The effect on the human population has remained to this day. Other than that, the Gift, as it was called by the people of the time, unlocked human advancement. Just as when a child first learns to walk after spending their whole life crawling, now we’ve become mages after a lifetime of wriggling in the dirt like maggots.”

Gruesome imagery aside, all this was familiar to Lila. The story of the Gift was one told to all children at some point or another; although, most often, they’d forget and take magic for granted anyway.

“Unfortunately, the Gift didn’t take everywhere,” the Director continued. “It turns out that there’s another world identical to ours where the Gift failed to integrate. Millions of people died, but the world recovered and continued without magic.”

“Sounds terrible,” said Lila, shuddering a little inside. “A world without magic? I’d rather die, to be honest.”

“And, so would everyone else,” agreed the Director. “But the fact remains that our Mirrors—those living in the world on the other side—were forced to make do without magic. Yet, they have managed to develop technologically at the same rate as we have, matching us in almost all aspects scientifically and surpassing us in many ways.”

“So, this Mirror is some kind of window to the other world?”

“Correct. The Mirror only represents a weakening of the barrier between our worlds. We call the other side our Mirror because of how the two continuously balance each other.”

“Balance?”

“Yes. Magic is a Gift to us, after all, and is far from innate to the universe. If we were to consider the universe void of magic, then a form of anti-magic should exist to counter it, just as there exists matter and antimatter.”

“And this other world has the ‘anti-magic’ that balances the universe?”

The Director grimaced. “Not really. Our Mirror is exactly the same as the world without magic; it is our world before the Gift, just a thousand years in the future—today.”

“Then how does it ‘balance’ the universe, if nothing unique exists on the opposite side?” challenged Lila. If the balance was so necessary, then clearly something had to balance magic on the opposite side.

The Director shrugged, then turned and walked back to the Ring, his feet crunching on the gravel.

“We’re barely beginning to understand the mechanics of the magic in this world, how do you expect us to understand the mechanics of the world outside of everything we could ever observe? All we know is that when my predecessor discovered this chamber fifty years ago, he opened the Mirror to the other side and tried to cross. The resulting reathquake almost collapsed the cave and buried his entire team under fifty kilometers of earth and rock.”

“Clearly, the universe doesn’t like people messing with the Mirror,” said Lila. Something was clicking in the back of her head as she walked beside the Director back to the Mirror.

“Quite. However, the limits of human arrogance know no bounds, and we’ve opened the Mirror on several occasions to establish communication with the other side. We’ve exchanged knowledge at the very least, and we’re trying to stabilize the Mirror to allow the permanent transfer of matter,” he explained. 

“Knowledge?” asked Lila.

“Our counterparts discovered the Mirror on their side at the same time we did. We call the phenomena Mirroring. For some reason, despite the presence of a massive difference in the evolution of civilization on both sides, we have evolved incredibly similarly. That being said, the differences between us are still significant enough that exchanging intelligence and coordinating research between our world and theirs would lead to great advancements for us both. We’ve avoided revealing this truth to our respective publics to avoid misuse and to keep the portals secure. There’s only so much we can do with the information, though. The issues arise when something substantial goes through the Mirror. The magical nature of all matter on this side of the Mirror repels anything non-magical from the other side, and vice-versa.”

“That’s why you had us decontaminated first,” Lila said, now realizing. “And that’s why people can’t go through either. If all matter is magical, then an organism powerful enough to control magic would definitely cause problems for the Mirror.”

“You catch on quickly,” said the Director. “And this brings us to our problem for today.” They’d arrived back at the group. “Callum will take over from here. I’m afraid I have some rather important paperwork to attend to regarding your work with us.” The Director walked over to the other wall, aiming for the largest pocket, where several people were seated at assorted desks. Lila looked over at Callum.

“So, what exactly am I doing here?”

Callum smirked. “Knowing you, you probably have some kind of idea already.”

“You don’t know me,” said Lila, irritated, “but I do have an idea.”

“Go ahead,” said Callum.

“The Director said his predecessor had tried to cross over to the other side and caused a massive reathquake back when they first discovered this cave. You said that huge natural disasters are happening all over Opar right now. Are you telling me that there’s something in Opar that’s not supposed to be there now?”

“You’re pretty close, but not precisely there.”

“Don’t tell me that the Federation has another Mirror. That could be about the worst thing I’ve heard all day.”

“No, as far as we know, this is the only one of its kind. Some of the work being done here is starting to show that there can’t be more than one of these anyway, so we’re pretty safe on that count.”

“So, what, someone brought something through the Mirror when they weren’t supposed to?”

Callum shook his head again. “Nope, the Mirror is under twenty-four-hour surveillance. Nothing gets through here without the entire cave trying to collapse, so anything coming through would have been buried before it got to Opar.”

“So, what’s happening?” said Lila, now thoroughly annoyed.

“It means,” said Callum, his eyes glinting, “a child without magic has been born somewhere in Opar.”

Chapter 2

Lila followed Callum into the cubicle. It was akin to the train they’d taken on the way to the Director’s office but taller than it was wide and lacking chairs or seating of any kind. The entire floor was about two square yards in area, just large enough for Callum, Lila, and the Director to stand comfortably without touching. The rear wall was covered with a mirror, and Lila unconsciously scratched her nose when she saw her reflection on the way in. When the Director stepped in, the bookcase closed behind him, and two steel doors slid in from both sides of the empty wall, sealing them in. If it weren’t for some strange group of lightbulbs fixed into the ceiling, the cubicle would have been pitch black. With an uncomfortable lurch, an ominous creaking whirring sound emanated somewhere above the cubicle, and they began to descend. Lila, expecting a forward motion like on the train, lost her balance for a second. Hoping no one noticed, she steadied herself with a touch to the cool wall. Unfortunately, Callum noticed and gave her a smile and a thumbs-up.

“It’s called an elevator,” he explained. “It’s basically a train, only one that goes up and down.”

“What’s that noise then?” said Lila, gesturing upwards. “Trains don’t make noises like that. The bookcase did the same. What’s all this?”

“Most of this will make sense when we reach the bottom,” said the Director. “You’ll get the full explanation there, but it is enough to say that we can’t allow any magic to operate on this carriage or anything else we come in contact with. You’ll have to hand in your wand and anything enchanted on your person when we get to the lab, so make sure you have everything in order.”

“So, we’re actually traveling, not warping like the office trains, right?” questioned Lila. “Warping would use too much magic, which you don’t want to happen where we’re going.”

“Exactly,” confirmed the Director.

Lila silently filed the information away. Clearly, the Director and Callum were involved in some sort of operation. Repelling disasters? Taming the planet’s magic, perhaps? Unfortunately, the ride down the elevator was much longer than she’d expected, and she soon found herself leaning against the wall, waiting patiently and occasionally popping her ears when the pressure became too intense.

“How deep does this thing go?” Lila asked.

“Deep enough,” replied the Director, who’d pulled out a watch similar to Callum’s and was winding it, oddly enough. Callum had pulled out the previous morning’s newspaper and was solving the crossword. Leaning over, Lila whispered, “Aegan Drakon.” In reply to Callum’s questioning look, she shrugged and added, “It’s fifteen across.”

After a half-hour of descent, the elevator slowed to a crawl, then stopped. The steel doors slid open to reveal a small, rock-walled corridor, followed by a similar room filled with two figures wearing white containment suits on the other side, complete with full head-coverings, helmets, and oxygen supplies. Lila had seen suits like these before when she was doing her report on the magical plague of 932 AG, and she knew she’d probably have to wear one, too, if wherever they were going was magically contained.

“Leave your stuff here,” said Callum. The Director had gone ahead to speak with one of the white figures; this one had an orange band around his helmet. “We can’t take anything magical in, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave as much as you can in one of these lockers, and then head into the changing room. We’ve left you some de-magicked clothes there, and a containment jumpsuit, to make sure no magic whatsoever enters the site.”

“Seems pretty heavy-duty,” Lila commented as she stuffed her phone, wand, watch, and keys into her locker. “Most hospitals don’t have this much security.”

“Most hospitals don’t get close to needing this much security,” said Callum mysteriously.

One of the technicians handed her a jumpsuit with a red band around the crown of the helmet and led her into a small changing cubicle. A quick change later, and she was back in the security room. A figure wearing a similar jumpsuit knocked on her helmet, and squinting through their faceplate, Lila saw Callum’s face.

“We’re going through the arches, Lila. The Director’s already gone ahead.” Callum motioned towards a set of three dull, gray arches. The other technician pressed a button on a panel set into the side of one of the arches as soon as Callum had stepped underneath them, and the arches glowed a bright, sickly green. Callum grimaced and walked through and out successfully. The technician waved to Lila, and she walked under the arches as Callum had.

“Anything magical on you?” the technician asked. “The demagickators will break the enchantments on anything that passes through them. So, anything you bring becomes a piece of junk as soon as the cycle’s over.”

“Nope, everything’s in my locker,” Lila said. The technician nodded, then started to activate the arches again. The panels on the inside of the arches began to glow.

“Wait!” shouted Callum. “Her helmet’s unsealed!”

The technician jumped and, cursing furiously, unplugged the panel from the arches, causing them to cool back down to a dull gray. Lila looked down at her jumpsuit, confused. She had sealed the helmet. The lack of magical sizing had bothered her when she’d first put on the helmet, but then she’d squeezed it onto the suit and twisted, causing it to lock. Callum reached over, under the arches, and twisted the helmet another fraction of an inch.

“There, now it’s fully locked,” he said, sighing with relief. “If we’d missed that, you could have been toast.”

Now thoroughly perplexed, Lila looked at the technician, who booted up the arches again. Passing through them successfully, Lila followed Callum out of the security room and into another rock-lined corridor. The path twisted and turned so much that Lila lost track of where they were in relation to the elevator. Finally, they came to a round steel door, similar to a bank vault’s.

“An airlock,” said Callum as they walked through. “Keeps the magicked air out, you know.”

Lila nodded as the two waited for the lock to cycle. A loud squealing broke the silence when the door swung closed, and Lila began to ask what it was when she remembered the restrictions on magic. Must be the pumps, she thought. When the cycle was done, the other door swung open, and a wave of heat hit Lila through the suit’s faceplate.

The airlock opened onto a large, hangar-shaped cave. The space was open in the center, enough to fit a whole four-engine airplane in the middle. The cave’s walls were bare and rocky, just like the corridors, and the room was at least five stories high. The right side of the cave was full of pockets populated by jump-suited technicians with different colored bands painted on their helmets, tapping away at computers or shuffling papers around. The entire place was in an uproar with workers moving around and carrying objects this way and that, and the pool of lava covering the back half of the floor didn’t help the atmosphere one bit, serving as a source of heat with occasional loud bubbling noises.

“Just how deep are we?” asked Lila, turning to Callum.

“Deep enough to find that,” he said, pointing.

The left side of the cave lacked the pockets the right side had, but only because it was covered by a giant black ring. Perfectly symmetrical, the ring just barely touched the ground and ceiling, and its inside was filled with a massive mirror. The ring itself seemed to be made of some kind of black rock, although the texture was marred by the occasional purple stone or chunk of volcanic glass, giving it a rough, natural overall look. A group of technicians wearing black robes were gathered around the base of the ring, where a staircase was erected to meet the center of the mirror. One of the technicians tapped something on the base of the ring, and the mirror suddenly turned transparent, revealing a similar chamber on the other side, but containing a much larger number of figures wearing orange and yellow clothing. Another couple of taps and the figures disappeared from view, the portal returning to its original mirror form, reflecting the interior of the room to itself.

From her place on the entrance platform to the cave, Lila could see the entire ring, and looking at it gave her an uncomfortable sensation. Her bones seemed to have been filled with lead, and she broke out in a cold sweat. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Callum looking at her.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“A bit weird,” Lila admitted. “Like this ring doesn’t belong here, and my body isn’t happy with it.”

Callum nodded. “A better reaction than most have on their first time. Come on— the Director’s just over there. He’ll explain everything.”

The pair walked over to a ladder, climbed down, and walked to the group of black-robed technicians. The tallest figure, with a bright white band around his helmet, broke off from the group and made his way over to the two of them. It was the Director.

“Welcome, Miss Bakurets, to the Prime Mirror,” the Director said with the air of a man revealing a work of art.

“Well, it is a pretty big mirror,” Lila said, “but what makes it Prime, exactly?”

“The answer is simple,” said the Director. “This is the gateway between this world and its reflection.”

“Reflection?” asked Lila, frowning. “You make it sound like there’s some other kind of world out there.”

“Close, but not quite,” said the Director. He turned away from the Mirror and began to walk to the lava pit. Callum indicated that Lila should follow him, and he turned to talk to the other technicians. Turning, the Director checked that Lila was following, and when they’d made their way far enough from the Mirror that they weren’t standing in front of any part of it anymore, the Director stopped and stared Lila in the eyes.

“What is magic?”

Lila paused before answering, “Magic is a natural form of energy that can be influenced by will and emotion.”

“So, only people can use magic?”

“Animals can, too.”

“What about rocks and trees?”

“Rocks and trees don’t have emotions or wills, sir.”

The Director nodded.

“That is the explanation currently taught in schools and universities across the country, as per our regulations. It is correct to the best of our knowledge. However, discoveries made in this room over the past fifty years have shown us that this is only the basis of magic.”

Lila nodded, following. Her eyes slid over to the Mirror for a second, before flickering back to the Director. She was now certain the chill she’d felt before had to do with the Mirror’s magic.

The Director noticed. “The Mirror is indeed magical. What most people forget, though, is that magic hasn’t always existed in our world.”

“The Gift,” said Lila.

“Precisely. Roughly a thousand years ago, both humans and animals realized that they could access this new form of energy. Huge numbers mysteriously died out, and birthrates of humans and animals alike never recovered, but new races and subspecies emerged as a result of the effect of this magic on its users. The effect on the human population has remained to this day. Other than that, the Gift, as it was called by the people of the time, unlocked human advancement. Just as when a child first learns to walk after spending their whole life crawling, now we’ve become mages after a lifetime of wriggling in the dirt like maggots.”

Gruesome imagery aside, all this was familiar to Lila. The story of the Gift was one told to all children at some point or another; although, most often, they’d forget and take magic for granted anyway.

“Unfortunately, the Gift didn’t take everywhere,” the Director continued. “It turns out that there’s another world identical to ours where the Gift failed to integrate. Millions of people died, but the world recovered and continued without magic.”

“Sounds terrible,” said Lila, shuddering a little inside. “A world without magic? I’d rather die, to be honest.”

“And, so would everyone else,” agreed the Director. “But the fact remains that our Mirrors—those living in the world on the other side—were forced to make do without magic. Yet, they have managed to develop technologically at the same rate as we have, matching us in almost all aspects scientifically and surpassing us in many ways.”

“So, this Mirror is some kind of window to the other world?”

“Correct. The Mirror only represents a weakening of the barrier between our worlds. We call the other side our Mirror because of how the two continuously balance each other.”

“Balance?”

“Yes. Magic is a Gift to us, after all, and is far from innate to the universe. If we were to consider the universe void of magic, then a form of anti-magic should exist to counter it, just as there exists matter and antimatter.”

“And this other world has the ‘anti-magic’ that balances the universe?”

The Director grimaced. “Not really. Our Mirror is exactly the same as the world without magic; it is our world before the Gift, just a thousand years in the future—today.”

“Then how does it ‘balance’ the universe, if nothing unique exists on the opposite side?” challenged Lila. If the balance was so necessary, then clearly something had to balance magic on the opposite side.

The Director shrugged, then turned and walked back to the Ring, his feet crunching on the gravel.

“We’re barely beginning to understand the mechanics of the magic in this world, how do you expect us to understand the mechanics of the world outside of everything we could ever observe? All we know is that when my predecessor discovered this chamber fifty years ago, he opened the Mirror to the other side and tried to cross. The resulting reathquake almost collapsed the cave and buried his entire team under fifty kilometers of earth and rock.”

“Clearly, the universe doesn’t like people messing with the Mirror,” said Lila. Something was clicking in the back of her head as she walked beside the Director back to the Mirror.

“Quite. However, the limits of human arrogance know no bounds, and we’ve opened the Mirror on several occasions to establish communication with the other side. We’ve exchanged knowledge at the very least, and we’re trying to stabilize the Mirror to allow the permanent transfer of matter,” he explained. 

“Knowledge?” asked Lila.

“Our counterparts discovered the Mirror on their side at the same time we did. We call the phenomena Mirroring. For some reason, despite the presence of a massive difference in the evolution of civilization on both sides, we have evolved incredibly similarly. That being said, the differences between us are still significant enough that exchanging intelligence and coordinating research between our world and theirs would lead to great advancements for us both. We’ve avoided revealing this truth to our respective publics to avoid misuse and to keep the portals secure. There’s only so much we can do with the information, though. The issues arise when something substantial goes through the Mirror. The magical nature of all matter on this side of the Mirror repels anything non-magical from the other side, and vice-versa.”

“That’s why you had us decontaminated first,” Lila said, now realizing. “And that’s why people can’t go through either. If all matter is magical, then an organism powerful enough to control magic would definitely cause problems for the Mirror.”

“You catch on quickly,” said the Director. “And this brings us to our problem for today.” They’d arrived back at the group. “Callum will take over from here. I’m afraid I have some rather important paperwork to attend to regarding your work with us.” The Director walked over to the other wall, aiming for the largest pocket, where several people were seated at assorted desks. Lila looked over at Callum.

“So, what exactly am I doing here?”

Callum smirked. “Knowing you, you probably have some kind of idea already.”

“You don’t know me,” said Lila, irritated, “but I do have an idea.”

“Go ahead,” said Callum.

“The Director said his predecessor had tried to cross over to the other side and caused a massive reathquake back when they first discovered this cave. You said that huge natural disasters are happening all over Opar right now. Are you telling me that there’s something in Opar that’s not supposed to be there now?”

“You’re pretty close, but not precisely there.”

“Don’t tell me that the Federation has another Mirror. That could be about the worst thing I’ve heard all day.”

“No, as far as we know, this is the only one of its kind. Some of the work being done here is starting to show that there can’t be more than one of these anyway, so we’re pretty safe on that count.”

“So, what, someone brought something through the Mirror when they weren’t supposed to?”

Callum shook his head again. “Nope, the Mirror is under twenty-four-hour surveillance. Nothing gets through here without the entire cave trying to collapse, so anything coming through would have been buried before it got to Opar.”

“So, what’s happening?” said Lila, now thoroughly annoyed.

“It means,” said Callum, his eyes glinting, “a child without magic has been born somewhere in Opar.”

Chapter 3

“Ugh, still needs salt,” said Lila.

As savory as unicorn steaks were, the brand Lila was partial to seemed capable of neutralizing whatever salting Lila applied. It was incredibly frustrating. Imagine buying the most expensive steaks in the grocery store, hoping to get the most refined, rich taste possible, only to find that the meat refused any attempt to alter its flavor or compound it with something else. This resulted in Lila suffering through a small chunk of unicorn meat beside her dinner while she tried to power through the weeklong supply lounging in her cooler. 

I knew a deal like that had to be a scam, Lila thought miserably, her jaw cramping as she tried to chew through the meat. Still, I have to make it last. Meat from animals magical in nature was pretty hard to come by when most magical animals were capable of slaying nearby hunters with a flick of their head or a thought. Unicorns were more docile than most, and a few farms in the Oparian Mountains were said to raise unicorns for meat, milk, and even riding, but most of them were populated by hermits that refused to display the unicorns to outsiders.

Speaking of Opar, thought Lila, I should probably get through this report before it gets too late. 

Lila’s wooden stool creaked as she turned to look at the massive dossier sharing her tiny coffee table with her meager dinner. Flipping through it absently while she scooped up the few remaining peas on her plate, she tried to reacquaint herself with the Oparian geography and the details of her mission. After she’d received the barebones of the Mirrored Worlds theory from Callum, the Director, and a few friendly technicians nearby, Callum had dropped another bombshell on her.

* * *

“You’re going to get that kid,” said Callum.

“Uh, what?”

“Haven’t you been wondering what exactly you’re doing down here? It’s not like we show this room and the Mirror to every other agent in the Bureau,” said Callum exasperatedly.

“Well, yeah, that was kind of obvious.”

“So, why do you think you’re here?” he asked.

The answer was something she knew, or else he wouldn’t have asked. Lila thought through everything she’d seen, carefully.

“It seems to me that you need someone to get this kid over to the other side,” she began.

“Yep.”

“And it’s not like you could talk to the Federation about this. They’d just grab the kid and try to manipulate the disasters to happen in National or National-allied territory.”

“Not even childlike innocence will stand in the way of the Federation when there’s a proxy-war at stake.”

“So, you need someone to infiltrate the Federation, find this kid, get him out, fly back here, and push him through the mirror to the other side.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“But wait, you just said that nothing’s been passed through the Mirror successfully.”

“True. Just the act of activating the Mirror causes massive instability for both worlds, so even bringing a non-magical back to the non-magical side would destroy both sides at the very attempt,” he explained. “But don’t worry about that. There’s a slightly more complicated side to the story that fixes this up. Sort of. Continue,” he added.

Lila looked at him, frowning. “So, somehow, you need me to participate in this kind of operation. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have called me down here and risked contaminating the Mirror.”

“Exactly,” said Callum.

“But, I’m just a fresh grad. It’s not like I have any combat experience. I hate to say this, but I’m probably the least qualified person to take on a mission of this sensitivity.”

“Ah, but you have one quality that no one else does,” a strange voice interjected. Its source, a tall man, wearing a black jumpsuit with a blue ring around the crown of his helmet, had joined their little group. Sticking out his hand, he said, “Nice to meet you. I’m the head Mirrologist, so I’ll be around here coordinating most of the work you do out in the field. Call me, Merlin.”

“Merlin?” asked Lila, confused at the unfamiliar name.

“Inside joke,” smiled Merlin, waving his hand. “The reason why we chose you as part of this mission is because of the unprecedented score you got on the magical power test. While you won’t be leading the mission, we want you around because some of the theories we’ve been testing about the duality of magic suggest that having a source of high magical intensity in close proximity to the non-magical entity could serve as a buffer and stabilize its presence on this side of the Mirror,” Merlin shrugged. “Of course, all this could be totally pointless, but we’re getting pretty desperate, and this is the best we could come up with.”

Callum nodded. “Your teammates will be of similarly high power, although they’ll also have the technical knowledge to use their magic.”

Lila nodded. It made sense to have as many high-power individuals as possible guarding the child if it would help lower the disaster rate on the way back. Bringing them back would be a huge pain if the child kept causing disasters while they tried to move them.

“There’s something else.” Callum’s expression turned serious. “You need to understand that you’re mainly on this mission because of your magical power, but we also recognize your own, budding combat skills. As the Director’s deputy for the Mirror Special Forces team, I’m putting you on this team because I know you’ll be able to restrain yourself and let the others around you do their jobs. I’m not saying you’re a liability, but you must know your place and your strength if this mission is going to succeed.”

It hurt Lila a little, knowing that they’d only chosen her because of something she couldn’t really control, but she vowed that she wouldn’t interfere if the time came. The least she could do was participate and do her best in the field she was given. This was an opportunity she’d been dreaming of, and who knew what would happen after the mission was completed. She focused on Callum.

“I’ll do my best to fulfill the mission, sir. You can count on that.”

Callum clapped his hands, the tension breaking. “Excellent. You’re dismissed for now. I’ll have all the paperwork sent over to facilitate your temporary transfer to this department for the duration of this assignment, as well as the information you need to prepare for the mission itself. Get ready quickly. Your mission starts in two days, and you absolutely must be ready in time.”

* * *

With her dishes put away and her tiny kitchenette put back in order, Lila sat on the couch and spread out the contents of the mission file on the coffee table. It was late in the evening, almost ten, and she still had the entire file to get through. Lila sighed miserably. It seemed that wherever she went, the paperwork just followed her. She decided to start with the geography since that seemed to be the most manageable part. She’d taken Oparian geography at university, and when compared to the heavy files on her comrades, the political nature of the mission, and the introduction to Mirrologian Theory, geography looked like a cakewalk.

Tapping her wand on the surface of the briefing, she magnified it and projected it onto the space on the wall in front of her—a richer employee would have had a televisor. A map of Opar filled her vision, and she flashed back to the course she’d once taken a long time ago.

* * *

“What is it about Opar that makes it so dangerous for travelers, so isolated from surrounding cultures, and makes its inhabitants fearsome and magical in nature?”

A younger, naïve Lila was sitting in the back row of the lecture hall, half-listening while she played a multiplayer game on her phone against the annoying girl sitting two rows ahead of her. It wasn’t like this course was of any specific relevance to anything she’d want to do in the future. Unaware of her lack of attention, and the lack of attention given by the vast majority of the audience in attendance, the professor continued:

“The answer to this question, or to any similar question about any other culture or nation today, is the conditions surrounding its creation. Part of the conditions that formed the creation of Opar into its modern form are both its geography and its relation to the Gift.”

Lila looked up, caught off guard by the mention of the Gift, and instantly lost the game. Cursing herself for her lack of attention to the lecture, she put away her phone and tried to focus.

“Most scholars agree that the Gift first manifested in the Old World, in Opar specifically, which is what caused the rapid mutation of most of the animals and people living there. To this day, the portion of the population in Opar that is composed of elves is the highest in any region, somewhere in the vicinity of thirty-five percent. In comparison, elves hold an average of ten percent everywhere else. The land and biology there have simply had a longer time in the presence of magic to acclimate itself to it and evolve alongside it. However, this has also had some rather extreme side-effects on the geography. Before the Gift, the land of Opar was heavily populated in all its reaches, with several island nations existing to the north and northwest, while the plains in the east were well-farmed.” The professor waved at the map of Opar he’d drawn on the chalkboard and highlighted the indicated areas using his wand as he mentioned them. A little clever magic had created a semi-topological view over the borders of the continent. The map he’d drawn was a bit different to the maps Lila had seen before of Opar, but she copied it down regardless. For once, Lila found herself interested in geography; she hadn’t expected this to be a history lesson, though.

“This map is a reconstruction of what we believe Opar looked like before the Gift,” continued the professor, adjusting his glasses on his face and dusting a little chalk from the end of his wand. “When the Gift hit, somewhere around the northern coast of Cenaf by our best estimates, the entire region’s geography changed. Huge mountain ranges rose over the coasts, and the central valleys were covered with giant, skyscraper-sized trees. The whole continent became inaccessible, and the people within were forced to band together to fight off the giant ogres, goblins, orcs, and other beasts that became commonplace in the dark reaches of the haunted forest. Neighboring continents took a little less damage; the effects of the Gift seemed to have been localized to that area. Even when the neighboring civilizations recovered, it took centuries for effective mountain passes to be discovered and control to be taken from the goblin tribes ruling the peaks.

“You all need to understand that taming the Haunted Forest, climbing the Dark Mountains, and effectively recreating civilization from scratch is an unprecedented feat, and only the greatest warriors and politicians could perform it. Today the Federation of Oparian States, while often looked down upon by other nations, became the powerhouse it is today because of the circumstances it had to go through to survive. The Great Ward alone was a marvel of magical innovation, repelling the aggressive creatures away from the center of the continent and giving its people a space to live in ease.”

“Obviously,” the lecturer stressed, addressing a few front-rowers who were angrily raising their hands and voices, “there are moral issues with the Ward allowing the ruling party of the Federation control over who can perform transport-magic inside the ward and who can’t, but that’s really a matter of ideology. From a strategic perspective, the Ward is an innovation, without which the entire continent would have remained a lawless, barbaric wasteland up to this point. The fact that it stops trespassers from teleporting inside could be seen as a benefit, from a certain perspective.” The lecturer went on to explain the different varieties of trolls, ogres, and goblins that had populated the Haunted Forest and the different policies that the Federation took and had taken in the past to deal with and repel them, but Lila’s attention had wandered again.

* * *

Cursing herself for having wasted her time not paying attention at university, Lila turned her iron focus onto the geography page. 

That’s right, she thought. Can’t use transport magic inside the Ward, where the baby is located. 

Lila had relocated to her cramped bedroom from her tiny living room and was sitting on her small bed, where she would be able to spread out the charts and diagrams from the file better. Magical transport was out, so they’d probably have to stick to traveling on foot to keep off the authorities’ radar, or they might even find something rideable. However, that was unlikely without someone of that kind of magical affinity in their party. Lila peered a little closer at the file. There was no chance whatsoever of speaking to the Federation about having them extract the child themselves without explaining what the child was; the BMA wanted this matter handled as covertly as possible, so they would have to travel wholly obscured. She’d been looking forward to a little communication for information from the locals, too, but the BMA had advised against that also. Part of the Great Ward’s magic was for it to make outsiders stand out relative to the locals, so the retrieval team would have to either travel at night or through the depths of the woods to avoid being spotted and thrown into Federation custody. The BMA also informed them that they wouldn’t, under any circumstances, be able to interfere, so the team would report that they were acting independently if they were captured by the Federation. It sucked, but risks were part of any covert operation.

The one thing that did bother Lila a bit about the operation was the fact that it was kidnapping. No matter how much danger the child provided to the world around them, the fact remained that the cause of all this damage was an innocent newborn, probably with no idea of the effect it was having on the world around it, or the forces it had caused to move. Hopefully, they would be capable of making its parents understand just how much of a necessity it was for them to take the child. Somehow, Lila doubted that her teammates would feel as sympathetic, so she would probably have to take care of the child herself.

Lila took another look into the files on her future teammates. Both looked highly experienced and battle-ready but weren’t exactly perfect for this kind of operation, which aligned with Callum’s explanation about their high, innate magical powers. The first, Battleaxe, was a massive looking man, at a full eight feet tall. His file indicated the presence of giant-blood somewhere in his lineage, a rare occurrence, what with the extremely bloodthirsty nature of the giant tribes. He’d worked for the BMA for roughly ten years but had been on probation for the last few months because he’d gone out of control and killed three men in a fit of wrath when his comrade had been killed during their previous mission. The file assigned Battleaxe as the primary fighter and weapons coordinator for the mission, naming him an expert in fifteen separate martial arts and referencing Master ranks over eighteen close-combat weapon classes, seven ranged-combat classes, and twenty-seven magical combat techniques. 

Definitely well-qualified, thought Lila. She had no objection whatsoever to having someone like that watch her back in the field.

Her other comrade, on the other hand, didn’t feel like someone she was comfortable fighting with. Graute the Elf was a famous underground smuggler, well-known across most of Opar’s various black markets and organized crime factions. He’d evaded global police agencies and Opar’s ruthless Magical Corps for seven years before the BMA seized him shipping magical inflatables from Middle Akirema and managed to hold him in their custody. Graute was temporarily released from his twenty-year sentence under a special deal where the successful completion of this mission would grant him parole for the rest of his sentence. The file advised extreme caution with Graute, although it also mentioned that an agreement had been brokered with Battleaxe to keep Graute in check, so Graute at least wouldn’t be capable of giving them the slip and escaping into the wilds or disrupting their mission.

Lila herself was the final vertex in the ritual triangle. Twenty-four years old, a born-and-raised human National with the combat experience of an Academy graduate and the practical skills of an average human being. Her magic genuinely gave her an affinity for the manipulation of light and dark magic, a trait her family had possessed for generations, which would no doubt come in handy throughout their mission. Glancing at the mirror in the corner of her bedroom, Lila knew she was scared. She had no idea what she would find on her adventure, nor how she would contribute. Knowing that she was marching straight to the source of another universe’s attacks on her own didn’t alleviate her fears, but most of all, it was her weakness that scared her. However, it was as she got into bed that she realized only time would tell how useful she would be once the mission finally kicked into gear.

Chapter 4

“Miss Bakurets? This way, please.”

Lila nodded to the receptionist and let herself be guided toward the inter-departmental train stations. She’d arrived at the office fifteen minutes earlier than usual, but it looked like the Director’s office was as punctual as she was, if not more. Lila had barely walked through the doors of the lobby and scanned her ID before the receptionist waved her over. A friendly looking elven teen with a large ’Intern’ nametag guided her over to the high-priority station. 

Looks like I’m moving up a bit, thought Lila, not unhappy about being promoted out of the slow, crammed, low-priority trains she’d taken every other morning.

Jarpen, the Conductor, waved at her, and she nodded back in greeting. The intern must have told Jarpen her destination in advance because she’d just strapped herself into the empty compartment when the doors slammed shut, and Jarpen whisked the train away from the platform. The journey was far shorter than their last one, to the Director’s office, and Lila had barely enough time to start pulling her mission briefing from her backpack to review it before Jarpen announced their arrival. The train stopped suddenly. Lila smacked her head onto the seat ahead of her and exited the train with her eyes watering. Slowly regaining her balance after the unfriendly deceleration of the train, Lila looked around and tried to figure out where she was and where she needed to go.

“Sixty-fifth floor, miss. They told me you are expected in Meeting Room A. Should be the first on your left through the middle corridor.” Jarpen had stretched his neck out of the train’s doors, watching her turn in confusion.

“Thanks,” Lila gratefully said and took off in the direction he’d suggested. The corridors here were relatively standard, and Lila assumed that the meeting would be held in a typical Bureau room. Grateful for one thing she’d be familiar with in the upcoming meeting, Lila walked down the corridor, carefully looking for Room A. She heard a strange scraping sound coming from her left, and looking for the sound, she noticed a large ‘A’ attached to a door. Lila knocked twice, pulled the door open wide, and stepped in. Blinking at the bright light inside, she was met with a long room; the center was filled by an equally long meeting table. Four figures were seated at various positions along the table. Callum and the Director were sitting beside each other at the far end, the Director occupying the head position, and they were quietly discussing something. Merlin, out of his black robes and jumpsuit, was seated near the center of the table. He tapped away at a laptop-like device, his wand wedged between his teeth, his white hair sticking up at the back, and his eyes intensely focused on the screen in front of him. However, in the first seat in front of the door was a massive brown figure, his bald head almost touching the white lights hanging from the ceiling. In one hand, he held an enormous ax with two blades and in his other a stone that he was scraping along the ax’s blades, forming the sound Lila had heard.

Callum had looked up at the sound of the knocking and partially stood. Raising a hand, he said, “Oh, Lila, great! We’re just waiting on Graute. Take a seat, and we’ll get started as soon as he gets here.”

Nodding, Lila walked around to the other side of the table, putting herself in a position to watch both the door and everyone else. She sat a seat away from Merlin, who appeared incredibly busy, and across from Battleaxe. Stowing her backpack under her seat, Lila pulled out her report to scan it one more time before the meeting started, but she was too nervous to read. Sighing, she looked over at the giant, Battleaxe, and tried to catch his eye. As far as she could tell, though, the world could have been collapsing into oblivion, and the only thing that would matter to Battleaxe was the sharpness of his ax. Her attempts to entertain herself were quickly nullified by the noisy arrival of the congregation’s final member.

A thin-looking figure was quickly dumped onto the floor just inside the door by two large, uniformed guards before the door was closed and locked behind him. The figure slowly got to his feet, stroking his short blond hair back over his head.

“Man, you BMA people have no manners. Every time I come here, I get this same nasty treatment. You people treat me like I’m a criminal or something.” It appeared Graute had arrived; the tips of his pointed elven ears poked through his sleek hair. His slim build and height confirmed Lila’s hypothesis.

“You are a criminal,” the Director responded impassively, “and don’t you forget for a second the reason why you’re here. Your history with the Bureau and your background are the only things qualifying you for this job, so I’d appreciate it if you kept your exact position in mind before you open your mouth.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it, Gene, I got this.” Gene? Graute must have some sort of background on the Director. Lila would have to get a little more information on Graute if they were going to work together long-term. Some background information on ’Gene’ would certainly help, too, although she doubted that information would be readily available in the Bureau database. Graute, meanwhile, started to walk around the table.

“Yo, Callum, what’s up, my man,” Graute enthused as he passed Callum. Callum wasn’t quite as composed as the Director, but he managed a relatively calm response. “Take a seat, Graute. You’re late, and we’ve got a lot of stuff to get through.”

“Come on, Callum, you know it’s not my fault. Those guards took their sweet time marching me up here. I swear that train conductor of yours was looking at me funny, too. It’s not my fault if I was traumatized and tripped about three times in the corridors.” Graute grinned as he walked over to Lila and sat between her and Merlin. Lila wiped her face of emotion and looked straight ahead at Battleaxe, whose eyes were now trained on Graute. His hands hadn’t stopped sharpening his blade, and the scraping was louder than ever.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Graute finally said, settled in his seat but turned a full ninety degrees to face Lila. He stuck out a hand and said, “Graute’s the name, but I’m sure you’ve heard of me. Hey, Callum, you told me the team was going to be good, but I didn’t think it would be this kind of good,” he called over his shoulder. Lila wasn’t having any of this, though. If she let this go on from the start, who knew where it would go?

“Hey,” she said, turning her head a fraction in Graute’s direction “I’m Lila. I look forward to working with you.” She ignored Graute’s hand completely; Lila generally refused physical contact with most poisonous creatures, insects, slugs, and animals that oozed pus. Graute just oozed the odor of a lecherous slug, and she would live a very happy life if she would never have to touch or look at him ever again. The mere two minutes she’d spent in Graute’s company was enough for her to make that judgment based on his gaping drawl and the swagger in his walk. Still, it wouldn’t do to antagonize him this early in the mission, so she kept her interaction as civil as possible. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Callum nod, as if understanding her thoughts.

Graute nodded back and brought his hand over to his head, smoothing his hair back. “Nice to meet you too, gorgeous. I definitely look forward to working with you,” he said, winking. Lila suppressed the urge to vomit.

Thankfully, the Director chose that moment to clear his throat to speak. “Now that we’re all here, I think it’s time we began this meeting. Everyone in this room has access to the same information regarding the mission at hand, so feel free to contribute with whatever ideas you have in mind without restriction.” The five listeners, barring Merlin, who was still concentrated deeply on his computer screen, nodded—although, Battleaxe was still sharpening his massive ax. The Director continued, unfazed by Merlin’s lack of attention. “As you all know, we have assembled this team primarily based on raw magical power. Stabilizing this catastrophe is the priority, and if we can stabilize it at least partially, it will give us more time to resist the disasters while you three find the Anomaly and bring him back.”

The Director looked at Graute intently. Graute returned his stare, smiling pleasantly. “Given Graute’s track record, I’m going to assume that at least one of you three is unfamiliar with the details of the mission plan. Callum’s going to run you all through the mission briefing. I need to leave now, but rest assured that I’ll be in contact again before the mission begins.” Yielding the floor to Callum, the Director gathered his things in his hands and looked at the three of them in turn. In another blink of an eye, the Director was gone, melting through the solid floor.

Callum stood up and gestured toward a screen at the far end of the room. A map of Opar had been projected onto the screen by a wand mounted on the table.

“Unfortunately, Intelligence doesn’t have as much information as we would like on the location of the disasters, so most of your work will be investigative. We have a rough idea of where the disasters are originating, so you won’t have to search the entire country, but you will have to do a bit of digging. You all know how tight Oparian security is on the mountain passes, so you’re all heading in as illegals, but we’re trying to get fake documentation in case you’re stopped by a patrol. Our transoceanic shuttles only have enough range to get you just inside the Mountains, so you’ll be on foot from there to the cities. I’m told that Graute has more information and some decent contacts on the inside, so you shouldn’t have a problem getting past Federation ward-lines or collecting information inside. However, although we’re giving you all false identities, you will have to stay off the main roads for the most part, so in the beginning, you’re all going to be hiking through the heart of the Dark Forest.” Callum highlighted a patch of Oparian forestry bordering the northwestern coast of the continent.

“The Dark Forest?” said Lila sharply. All the files stated intense hiking through the Oparian countryside was required to get to the objective. The entire country was covered with dense forest, but the Dark Forest, specifically, was infamous.

Battleaxe stopped sharpening. “Something wrong, girl? Do you not relish the opportunity to slay the beasts of the wood?” His voice was deep and gravelly, and each word came out gnarled and twisted, as though he’d crunched each thoroughly in his larynx before it came out of his mouth.

“I’d prefer to keep all my limbs on me for the duration of my life, thank you very much,” Lila replied. “If the Dark Forest is as bad as I’ve heard, I very much doubt we’d make it through on foot, especially if we’re going to cut through the center.”

Graute spoke up. “I have to agree with Lila here, Axe. I’ve crawled through the Dark Forest on my own a few times in my life, on the brightest day of the year, and cutting through the edges with a shuttle that I’d, uhm, appropriated.”

Merlin stopped tapping away at his laptop, settled his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and spoke for the first time, trying to reassure them. “Intelligence assures us that activity in the Dark Forest has decreased substantially since the disasters. In any case, the Federation has been leading their Magical Corps in a series of PR-focused sorties so that they can claim that bit of coast, so you shouldn’t have as much trouble as Graute had in the past. And anyway, there’s a reason you have Battleaxe with you. I’m sure that with his experience and skill, he could get through the entire Forest on his own.”

Battleaxe didn’t respond, Lila wasn’t reassured, and Graute didn’t look too relieved either. Still, it would only make her look scared if she pushed the point any longer, so she conceded, and with a dip of her chin, she let Callum continue.

“So, again, we don’t know much, but we do have a rough idea of where the source of the disasters is. Intelligence has highlighted three small villages where we suspect the baby to be located, so you at least have a bit of a starting point of where to look. We’re also sending you in undercover as a group of traveling musicians. A very classical, globe-trotting bard group, hiking the Oparian countryside, playing at roadside inns to make enough money to fill your bellies, and looking for inspirations for your next songs.” Callum smiled, but Lila couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. Seriously? That was the best they could come up with?

Graute seemed impressed, though. “Nice work there, Callum. Oparians sure love their bards. A few more here and there definitely wouldn’t seem too out of place, and the remote mountain villagers get excited at the presence of anything new or out of place.” Battleaxe grunted, clearly unimpressed, and went back to sharpening his ax. Graute glanced at him for a second before continuing. “I, myself, can play the lyre quite well, but what will my comrades’ roles be, I wonder? If this band thing is going to be successful, we should at least be able to play some kind of music.”

Lila rolled her eyes. “I can play a little bit on the flute.”

Surprisingly, Battleaxe’s stony face cracked as he showed his teeth, smiling. “I revel in the war cries of my comrades, and the death-screams of my enemies as I hew their limbs from their bodies.” Graute snorted, and Callum smiled briefly.

“It seems you’re all ready to get this going,” said Callum. “I just want to say one last thing before I end the meeting. This is Lila’s first field mission, so I’d like you to understand how the Bureau does missions like this.” Lila flushed at Callum’s open exposal of her lack of experience; both Graute and Battleaxe turned to look at her. 

Thanks, Callum, she thought. 

Callum, unaware of her internal dialogue, went on. “The BMA likes to split up strike-teams so that each member of the team is aware of their job. In this team, Battleaxe is in charge of combat operations and will generally have the command. Graute is in charge of magical communication and guidance, and Lila is mainly there for support and will be in charge of transporting the child on the way back. Finally, we won’t be able to send you in with much equipment, so we’re relying on your wits and magical strength to get you through this.”

“Aw, is this your first mission? Don’t you worry, Lila darling,” said Graute, nudging Lila’s arm. “You can more than depend on me if you ever find yourself struggling.”

“Don’t you worry, Graute,” Lila replied, “I can more than take care of myself if it comes down to it.”

“Oh, there’s one last thing.” Callum’s voice had changed drastically. Graute and Lila both quieted down and looked at him. The change was so sudden that even Battleaxe was listening intently.

“Merlin originally came here to tell you this, but we’ve decided that I should do so,” he said. “All three of you should know that Merlin recently discovered a deadline for us.”

“That doesn’t sound so good,” said Graute.

“It’s not,” said Merlin, frowning at him. “Not for the Oparians, or anyone else on this planet.”

“What’s the deadline?” asked Lila.

“The disasters have steadily been getting worse,” explained Callum. “Already, the news is starting to spread through the continent that Opar is under attack from some strange, supernatural force. Some are claiming that it’s God’s rage over the Federation’s policies or the cold war, and others are claiming that the monsters in the Dark Forest are preparing for a massive onslaught. We know it’s neither, but regardless, the three villages I mentioned earlier are taking a lot of heavy damage. Over the next month, these disasters will grow in intensity, exponentially, until the entire planet feels them. Do you know how bad a reathquake that affects the entire planet is? Especially when no one builds anything to protect against quakes of that scale. Do we want to find out what a magical cataclysm is like when the magical atmosphere of the planet starts to react to the Anomaly? Not really. So just keep in mind that you have under a month, probably three weeks at best, to get to Opar, get the child, and come back, or else there won’t be anything for you to get back to.” Callum looked at all three of them. Any signs of humor had evaporated. 

“All right, get going, you guys. Be at the BMA hangar tomorrow at dawn.”

Chapter 5

Just after the crack of dawn, the team assembled in the BMA’s secret hangar for flying vehicles. The technology to build ships that could sail through the air instead of the water had taken centuries of work by the greatest magical inventors and engineers the Nation could produce, and the results were spectacular. The hangar, a massive room easily half a mile across and wide and open to the outside on one side, housed a variety of aircraft, including the pod that would take Lila across the ocean. Lila wasn’t excited to spend so much of her time in a physical craft again, no matter the novelty of being in a ship that could fly. The urgency of their task and the pressure to perform had been pressing on her since their meeting. Battleaxe and Graute appeared to have no worries whatsoever; Graute yawned through Callum’s speech, and Battleaxe’s expression remained stonelike as he stood leaning on the pommel of his ax. Only Callum had come with them to the hangar to send them off; their mission was so secret that no one else, besides the Director, Merlin, and a select few other Mirrologists, had any idea what they were doing. The hangar, for that matter, despite looking like it could house some three hundred engineers and four or five other aircraft, was empty, and sounds echoed eerily throughout it.

The one ship that did fill the hangar was incredibly imposing—a massive, single-mast ship. The craft looked like any other seafaring vessel of a reconnaissance class, except that its hull had been fashioned from a light-gray metal, and it had four round engines in the base from which it would be lifted into the sky. Its single-mast sails were lowered to avoid drawing attention, but when they got out over the ocean, the sails would be unfurled to give them an additional boost of speed.

Callum had just finished reviewing the essential components of the mission and the specifics of their landing spot with the team when a door in the hull of the ship hissed open, a gangplank lowered to the floor, and a rotund man waddled out. Callum looked at the man and waved him over to their group.

“Gentlemen, Lila, this here is Captain Aldridge,” Callum said when the man had arrived. “He’ll be taking you on the first leg of your journey. Captain Aldridge’s been piloting Bureau craft since before we learned to make aircraft, and he’s our best flyer.”

Aldridge nodded and shook their hands, greeting each one of them in turn. The captain was a large, heavy man with a massive mustache covering three-quarters of his face, but his eyes were narrow and locked onto Lila’s face when they shook hands, his grip firm but not crushing. Sensing no deceit after peering into her skull through her eyeballs for a second, his grip relaxed, and his face broke into a wide smile.

“Good to meet you all,” he said, turning to the other two. “I haven’t been informed of the specifics of your mission, and I don’t need to know. All I know is that you folks need speed and need to be undetected. I can get you there safely, don’t you worry about that.”

“Great,” said Graute. Lila nodded her approval, and Battleaxe just looked bored. Callum nodded, too, then said, “Well, that’s that. I wish we could be in contact, but we’d prefer to avoid compromising your cover as best as possible. You’ll find what little equipment we’ll be dropping you in with on the ship, but you’ll have to make do with whatever you can find on the ground afterward. If there’s something extremely urgent we need to tell you, we’ll find a way to contact you, but other than that, expect no contact from us.” He looked at them one last time. “I don’t need to remind you three that the fate of the world lies on your shoulders,” he said lightly. “We’re counting on you. Good luck.”

Callum turned on his heel and walked out of the hangar, his steps echoing throughout the empty room. Aldridge walked back onto his ship, his steps clanging on the metal gangway; Battleaxe and Graute followed. Lila took one last look at Callum, who was walking out of the hangar, then shook her head and followed the other two into the belly of the ship. Their journey had finally begun.

Although most transportation Lila used daily was instantaneous— teleporting was by far the most effective way for private citizens to travel throughout the city on their way to work—she did have some idea what physical transport systems were like. She’d taken a boat ride once when she was younger and loved the rocking of the ship over the ocean waves, and she did ride her bicycle on occasion. Still, nothing had quite prepared her for the long wait she would have to endure to get to Opar, made worse by the suspense of waiting so long for a possibly dangerous fate. To get her mind off things, she logged into one of the ship’s guest computers and tried to do some research on the three towns Callum had mentioned. Aldridge had led the three of them to the guest quarters on the ship then retreated to the bridge. The speeds and altitudes their ship, The Roach, flew at made it impossible for passengers and crew to use the main deck, so all the facilities were contained below. All three crew members were given access to all facilities and individual rooms if they wanted to rest, but Lila was too wired.

Unfortunately, The Roach’s database wasn’t exactly up to date on the specifics of rural Oparian villages, with most of its storage devoted to navigational maps and more strategic targets around the world. Annoyed, Lila turned off the terminal and wandered through the ship’s corridors, exploring. The captain told them that the flight, longer by the standards of teleportation, would only take about four hours. Lila decided to take a look around; it wasn’t every day that one was given free rein to inspect every inch of a top-of-the-line Bureau craft. The hull of the craft was only two floors, so within a few minutes, Lila had reached the end of the ship. 

Loud arguing voices were coming from the room at the far end of the corridor, so Lila went to investigate.

Pulling open the door, she found herself in the armory where Callum had mentioned their supplies would be. The room had equipment for a small army, with a variety of battle wands, staves, and magical instruments designed for warfare. Swords, axes, and other bladed weapons lined one wall, while bows and ranged weapons lined the last. Inside, Battleaxe was sitting on the wall near the bladed weapons, the top of his head brushing the blade of the lowest hanging claymore but not seeming to bother him.

It turned out that it was Graute that was mainly doing the shouting. “No, you can’t bring that giant thing with you!” he was saying. “I don’t care how many monsters you think you’re going to kill, the tunnels we’re crawling through will barely fit you, let alone that monster of a head-slicer.”

“I won’t be crawling through any tunnels,” Battleaxe replied calmly. “I will cut my way through every monster in our path without any issues whatsoever. I haven’t had any before.”

“You’ve never been in Opar before, pal,” retorted Graute. “I’ve seen monsters in the Dark Forest that could make even a big guy like you wet his pants.”

Battleaxe snorted. “A likely occurrence for a mouse like you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you turned tail and ran at the first appearance of a common insectoid.”

Graute began to puff up angrily and opened his mouth to yell something in response before Lila stepped in. 

“Okay, guys, why don’t we all just relax a little?” she said, trying to defuse the tension. “What exactly is the issue here?”

Graute, who looked on the verge of transforming into a tomato, spun swiftly on the spot to look at Lila. His expression changed in an instant; his angry frown turned into a sickening grin as he smoothed back his hair. “Lila! So wonderful to see you again! What are you doing down here?”

“The sound of your yelling’s been echoing through the entire ship, Graute. What’s bothering you now?”

Graute’s smile tightened a bit at having been discovered, but he attempted a smooth recovery. “Oh, it’s nothing, just Battleaxe and me getting to know each other a little!” Battleaxe’s immense snort was more like a roar in the confined space of the armory.

“Right,” said Lila, unconvinced. “Speaking of which, maybe we should get our equipment in order. Callum said we could have whatever we wanted from the armory, but I think we should travel relatively light, in case we get stopped and searched by a Federation patrol.”

“Definitely,” said Graute, “but don’t worry too much about the Feds. As much as they hate to admit it, the Feds are as flawed as ordinary people.”

“Flawed?” asked Lila, confused.

“Oh yeah, you’ve never been to Opar before, right?” At Lila’s answering shake, he continued, “Well, I’m sure you know that Opar is mainly ruled by elves. The thing is, a lot of elves usually think themselves superior to humans. Something about how they claim that magic chose them as the conduits to continue their evolution, or some other garbage. Most of them forget that we’re all scum anyway and that half the elves in the Federation end up abusing their power to rob people of their stuff or oppress them. That’s why I got into the smuggling business,” he said, puffing up his chest. “If your inherently-corrupt government starts banning goods that the people want, someone has to find a way to provide it for them.”

“Oh yeah, that definitely explains why you were caught smuggling magic-enhancing serums into the Nation,” said Lila, folding her arms.

“Well, in order to maintain a sustainable business model and continue importing goods from various suppliers, a man has to maintain certain connections, you know. And that usually requires performing various favors for different people. Besides, it doesn’t help when both your parents are killed in a Federation raid, and your only uncle lives in that nation smuggling goods for a living.”

That took Lila by surprise. None of that had been in the file, although the file itself had admitted to a lack of detail regarding Graute’s background; for once, Graute looked absolutely serious, and for some reason, Lila didn’t doubt him. Battleaxe also turned to look at Graute, giving Lila an excuse to question him.

“So, what about you, Battleaxe? What did you do for the Bureau before?” Battleaxe’s silent façade had to break sometime. 

May as well get through it now, Lila thought.

Battleaxe looked at Lila, and she met his gaze, holding her ground, waiting. Finally, Battleaxe stood and walked over to the rack of magical weapons. “You came here to choose a weapon, yes? Then it’s time you chose one.”

Lila walked over to the opposite wall, where Battleaxe had gone to examine the various magical instruments. “Yeah, I do need to pick a wand,” she said, leaning forward to inspect the various wands there.

“Why a wand when you have access to all these staves?” he said. “A staff, while slightly more cumbersome, will give you the ability to channel Magicka at a greater rate for a specific specialization. True, wands give you flexibility, but you might want to consider a staff, especially in a combat situation like this.”

“Well, I’ve pretty much always used a wand, so I’d like to stick with what I know,” Lila said. “Although starting to learn to use a staff could always come in handy later on,” she mused.

“I could educate you in some of the basics,” he growled. “But our time on the journey for experimenting with magical combat will be limited, especially if we are traveling covertly.”

“Hmm, probably not then,” Lila said, although she was genuinely surprised at the suggestion. “But thanks for the offer. I guess I’ll stick to a regular old wand then,” she said, picking a battle wand to fit her measurements and sticking it in her backup holster. Her own wand would serve as her primary in battle, but having a second one for emergencies would be helpful.

Battleaxe grunted and marched back over to the bladed-weapons wall and continued watching the massive long sword hanging horizontally and lowest on the wall. Graute, who had been watching silently, said, “So what about you, gorgeous? What’s your tragic backstory?” Clearly, the strange mood that had caused him to reenact his past had blown in the wind already.

“Nothing special,” said Lila truthfully. “Lived in the Nation my whole life. I have two brothers, and I lived a fairly standard middle-class life in a suburban home with loving parents and a regular extended family. Graduated high school top of my class and got accepted into the Academy on scholarship, only to graduate with a year to spare and get shunted into the Records department of the Bureau straight away. Nothing special,” she said again.

“Oh, so you really are fresh meat!” laughed Graute gleefully. “Don’t worry, I’ll watch out for you while we’re traveling,” he laughed again, clapping his hands enthusiastically. “But seriously, if this is your first mission, what’s with all the seriousness, picking a wand or staff? It’s not like you’ve ever used one before.”

Lila gritted her teeth and had to resist the urge to blast Graute with her new battle wand. Although her family was typically attuned to dark and light magic, she’d developed her own brand of explosive magic back when she was experimenting in the Academy. She became quite well-known throughout the university for her short temper and tendency to blow things up. It wouldn’t do to smash Captain Aldridge’s Roach to smithereens, this early in the trip, and it certainly wouldn’t do to damage the only way that she and Battleaxe had for finding their way around Opar, so she settled for a verbal reply.

“Please, Graute. This may be my first mission, but I know what I’m doing. I bet my magic’s stronger than yours and that in a straight fight, I’d drop you before you drew your wand.” She truly believed it. She’d seen her fair share of fighting during the combat training at the university; someone like Graute was the slimy, slithering type that could never seem to accomplish anything of decent value.

“Alright, gorgeous, just relax now,” joked Graute. “I’m sure your magic’s great, but let’s see how it holds up when we enter the Dark Forest, hmm?”

“You both may have experience in combat,” interrupted Battleaxe, turning around to face them. “But neither of you have faced the horror of war and true battle and lived to tell the tale. I have. And I would recommend that neither of you makes such bold claims about your abilities before you experience such crushing conditions.”

Battleaxe lowered the massive blade from the wall and strapped it over his shoulder so that its tip hung below his right arm. His ax was strapped opposite of it, so the haft of the ax and the sheath of the sword formed a cross over his back. He looked at Lila once more.

“You asked me what I did before, where I came from. I came from nowhere. I have never known family, nor experienced it. I was raised an orphan and learned to fight before I could run. I have fought for centuries, with staff, sword, and ax. I am the fighter here. I suggest both of you quit your posturing and leave me to my field of expertise. We are here to retrieve this child and end this catastrophe. I would appreciate it if neither of you continued with this mindless bantering and let us complete this mission in peace.”

“Furthermore, I can see that both of you are strong-willed and defiant. Do what you wish. But when we enter a combat situation, I am in command; you listen to every one of my commands. Defy me then, and we all perish. Do I make myself clear?”

Even Graute seemed uncomfortable. “Sure,” Lila said, unwilling to get on Battleaxe’s bad side, especially with a massive sword on his back. Battleaxe turned his stare to Graute, and Graute mumbled something about how it wasn’t fair before he said, “Fine, whatever.”

Grunting, Battleaxe shifted the weapons until they rested comfortably on his back and departed the armory, stomping back to his quarters. Lila followed immediately, unwilling to breathe the same air as Graute for more than five continuous seconds.

Chapter 6

“Those are the mountains there, Ms. Lila,” Captain Aldridge said.

The Roach burst through one final cloud as they made their descent from the upper reaches of the atmosphere, and Lila was greeted with the sight of the massive and foreboding Dark Mountains. The entirety of Opar was said to be surrounded by them, making it both incredibly easy to protect the interior of Opar, and incredibly difficult to escape if attacked. Not that any human or elven invasion force had ever succeeded in breaching those mountains; only the goblins, giants, orcs, and various other creatures of the depths that had first spawned in those mountains had ever threatened the Oparians. Captain Aldridge summoned the crew over to the bridge, where a section of the ship’s lower hull had been fashioned from one-directional material, letting the pilot and crew see out, but not allowing their camouflage among the clouds and sky to be broken. Lila watched as the mountains grew closer and closer, reminding her that they were indeed among the largest mountains in the world—the average height of their peaks reaching five miles or more into the sky. Their ship, which sailed high above the ocean, was forced to dodge and weave between the crags of rock as Aldridge searched for an opening.

“Can’t fly over these,” he said, answering Lila’s silent question. “If I get much higher than this, we’ll lose power for the camouflage engine, which might lead to Federation scouts discovering the ship and opening fire.”

Graute, who had been lounging in the XO’s seat ever since they’d entered the ship, got up suddenly and walked over to the window.

“There, old man! That’s the pass I was telling you about.”

Aldridge nodded, and the ship crazily banked as he swung them over to the pass Graute had mentioned. And true enough, the pass was large enough to take in the ship, although just barely. Lila was sure she’d heard a scraping noise as the ship maneuvered through a particularly tight section of rock between two cliffs, but they soon found themselves in a relatively calm valley, sailing smoothly. Half an hour later, they’d made their way to a similar pass at the exit of the valley; they were through the Oparian Mountains and into the belly of the continent. Massive swaths of forest lay ahead of them, extending in every direction as far as the eye could see. It was a sea of green, broken occasionally by cliffs or lakes, and, far in the distance, were a line of lonely, small looking mountains.

“That’s where you’ll be wanting to go,” said Aldridge, nodding. “It’ll be hard to see from down on the ground, but stick to your course, and you should be perfectly fine.”

“Thanks, Aldridge,” said Lila, gratefully. She was acutely aware that it was finally time for her to be immersed in the dangerous world out there.

“I’d love to stay and wait for dawn with you, but I understand time is of the essence. The middle of the night will have to do for the start of your adventure, eh?”

Battleaxe stood, the ship swaying with his movement. “Middle of the day or night makes no difference in the belly of the Haunted Forest.”

“True,” the captain agreed. “Now, off with you all! I need to get The Roach out of here as fast as possible before the Federation notices we’ve been hanging around.”

Aldridge stood and shook all their hands one last time before the three of them marched off to the rear of the bridge, where the boarding portals were located. The portals were recalibrated to aim for the ground; Lila felt the ship dip as Aldridge got as close to the ground as possible. Finally ready, the portals activated, and Lila could see the shape of the forest floor below. Battleaxe went first, squeezing the bulk of his massive frame through the portal before dragging his equipment bag through. Even with undetectable extension-magic, bags designed for carrying equipment for someone Battleaxe’s size tended to be quite large. Graute went next, hopping through the portal and rolling when he reached the floor below. Lila took one last look at the bridge, waved at Aldridge, and jumped through the portal. A wave of nausea hit her as she fought to keep her lunch down; her brain struggled to comprehend how her body had gone from being about a mile above the ground to being on top of it. Staggering over to the shadow of a branch, she grabbed it heavily and held her breath, trying to keep ahold of herself. She heard a snort somewhere behind her and resisted the increasingly repetitive temptation to blast Graute into smithereens.

“What, first instant portal?” he teased. “I thought you were good at magic?”

“Shut up, Graute,” growled Lila as her stomach rolled.

“Ooh, testy,” taunted Graute. “Maybe I’ll just…”

“Silence.” Battleaxe had had enough. “This is neither the time nor the place. Get up, Bakurets; this is no place to dawdle.”

He was right. Turning around, Lila looked back at the clearing they’d landed in and gasped before quickly covering her mouth. What she’d thought were relatively tall trees before were enormous. The average oak was a good fifty feet across and who knew how high. When she’d read about the Dark Forest’s trees being big, she’d never quite imagined that the trees could dwarf her own house. Turning slowly, she took in the immense clearing they’d warped into, with gigantic trees ringing its circumference. 

There was a reason it was called the Dark Forest, she thought. 

The Darkness was almost physical, pressing in like a thick fog around the bases of the trees. Black, smoke-like tendrils curled and coiled over the roots of the trees, and visibility dropped to nothing a mere five feet after the tree-line began. Lila swallowed nervously. The Darkness wasn’t just black and obscure; it was menacing. She could feel its very presence pushing against her soul, and she had to take a deep breath before she was ready to move again. Drawing her wand, she held it at the ready, in case anything leaped out of the Darkness and needed to be fought. 

“Ah, home sweet home,” said Graute, leaping up and striding towards the trees. “We should get going if we’re going to get to a place where we can rest come daytime,” he called over his shoulder. “You were the one who said we should travel by night, yes?”

Battleaxe grunted and took up the middle position, drawing his massive ax. Lila followed them in the rear, silently grateful that someone was ahead of her but anxious of the space behind her. Leaves crunched under her feet as she reached the edge of the clearing. Graute and Battleaxe had already pushed into the Darkness; hurriedly, she rushed forward so as not to lose sight of them. Reaching the Darkness, the black substance faded and parted ahead of her, only to close once again behind her. A few yards into the Forest and she’d lost sight of the clearing behind her. The Darkness had surrounded her. She could barely see the outline of the moons high above, between the leaves of the trees, but everything ahead, behind, or to her side was blocked by the Darkness. Swallowing again, she lowered her gaze to the path in front of her feet. She struggled to maintain pace with the long-legged elf and the massive giant as they forged ahead into the Darkness, avoiding the various roots, logs, bushes, branches, and undergrowth that littered the Forest floor.

The Forest was vast and depressing. Lila had thought dawn to be only a few hours away, but it turned out that “dawn” didn’t have much meaning in the Dark Forest. Lila was physically fit and had run long distances before, but never had she walked as far as she was currently walking, encumbered with all her equipment and supplies. Even worse, she kept occasionally running into small obstacles, rocks, and tree trunks as Graute twisted and turned to find their path through the Forest. Occasionally, he made some quiet comment or mentioned something about their current path, but even his voice seemed muted by the Darkness. Just hearing it so close without seeing the source of the voice was creepy, but the Darkness gave each sound and voice a quieted, yet eerie quality that made Lila jump at the most normal sounds. Branches snapping under Battleaxe’s feet (a relatively common occurrence) never failed to surprise Lila, and the occasional branch that Battleaxe pushed out of the way waved unnaturally slowly as it snapped back into position, as though the Darkness were the water of a deep ocean trench.

Lila shivered, despite the heat of the Forest. Opar, generally considered to have a mild climate, was in the middle of its hot season, and while temperatures had been relatively cool on The Roach, the Darkness seemed to absorb and reflect all the heat crossing it. Sweat dripped into Lila’s eyes, and she swiped at them furiously, keeping her eyes open as wide as possible, trying to see as far as she could into the Forest. Occasionally, she caught glimpses of shadowy figures, right at the edge of her vision, in the shape of animals, the shape of a mountain lion, a griffon, and once in the shape of a massive scorpion. Still, no shape nor animal broke the silence. Every time she’d gone camping or hiked through woods, the most unbearable thing had been the sounds of insects and animals, but none were to be heard in the Dark Forest. All was silent. Lila swallowed and marched on, keeping one eye fixed on Battleaxe’s back. The other rotated between helping her avoid obstacles on the ground unsuccessfully and searching for other shadowy creatures in the beyond.

“All right, that’s it,” said Lila through chattering teeth. She’d just about reached her limit with the Darkness, the shadow monsters, and every single blasted root in her path. Pulling her wand out of her holster, where she’d stowed it temporarily, she concentrated viciously and intoned a spell to generate light. In an instant, an orb of blinding light exploded out of the tip of her wand, temporarily blinding her. She shut her eyes and cursed herself for losing control and wrestled with the flow of magic to her hand, stemming the tide and releasing a mere trickle. It wasn’t enough.

With speed highly contrasting his massive size, Battleaxe was by her in an instant, wrenching the wand from her hand and throwing it far into the darkness.

“Have you lost your mind?” he hissed.

“I was just casting a bit of light,” said Lila, offended. “It’s really dark here, if you haven’t noticed!”

Her voice was cut off by an incredibly loud roar. The roar, which was more like the screech of a gigantic insect, persisted. Graute appeared, suddenly, running. Shouting to make himself heard over the screech, “You’ve just made our position known to every single monster in these woods within five miles! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Swallowing, Lila had to admit she might have underestimated the consequences of her actions. Surely, animals spending their entire lifetime in magical darkness would learn to seek out the barest hint of light wherever it came from.

“Come on!” yelled Graute, and he took off running. Battleaxe, shouting angrily at Lila to follow, ran in the same direction; Lila did the same, running as fast she could, tripping over every root, and guided only by the sound of Graute’s breathing, and Battleaxe’s footsteps. The screeching suddenly stopped. Lila started to breathe a sigh of relief and slowed down, only to have Graute yell at the top of his lungs, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, here it comes!”

The faintest sounds of scuttling legs were reaching her from the rear as she ran down the Forest path. She must have heard at least three-dozen legs running behind her, and from five different directions. Meanwhile, Battleaxe had drawn his sword and was slashing the foliage in their way, speeding up. Graute had dropped behind to run alongside Lila and let Battleaxe clear the way.

“They’re called Scors, you dumb idiot!” he yelled, panting. “Ever seen a troll? These things eat trolls, and the Dark Forest is their domain. Imagine a new species of animal evolving in these woods, with ears the size of dinner plates and eyes the size of your head! Six legs, one massive stinger, and venom that will cause you to bleed from all your orifices. Sound good?”

Lila shook her head hurriedly and continued running, wary of the scuttling behind her. Pulling her second wand out of her other sleeve, she ran on, holding it at the ready, trying her best to hold a position, ready to attack anything that came out of the Darkness.

“In here, both of you!” roared Battleaxe.

Battleaxe had stopped running some distance ahead. Lila tripped hard as she splashed into running water—a stream. Battleaxe was still standing about ten feet away from the bank, and she made her way toward him, struggling against the current. She felt Graute behind her, pushing her to where Battleaxe had planted himself in the middle of the river. The Scors behind them began to screech again and pant, as if they could almost taste their prey. 

“We’re here!” yelled Lila as she finally collapsed behind Battleaxe, dragging Graute behind her.

“Make no sound!” shouted Battleaxe. “Hold this position, and do not move!” Lila readied herself once more and aimed at the bank they’d come from. Holding her breath, Lila waited, trying to ignore the roars of the incoming insectoids, and grabbed Battleaxe’s massive torso with one arm to avoid being washed away by the water, which was roiling harder and harder, the current rising as the Scors got closer. Battleaxe held his position, waiting, and Graute just shivered, holding onto Lila’s sleeve as the Scors got closer and closer.

Suddenly, when it seemed that the Scors were right on the bank of the river, Battleaxe raised his ax high and shouted an incantation. The water around the three of them receded, forming massive, high walls all around them. The walls were high, curving, and solid, yet the water within flowed. Eerie fish flowed through the water, swimming onward as though nothing had changed, but through the walls, Lila could see the twisted figures of the Scors. There were four of them, and they looked like the massive scorpions she’d glimpsed earlier in the Darkness. Their bodies were long and flat, with six legs supporting their weight, and the weight of the massive stinger suspended over their bodies, dripping with venom at the tip and twitching, ready to stab helpless prey.

With another roar, a bolt of white electricity shot from the head of Battleaxe’s ax and electrocuted the water near the Scors. The insectoids yelped angrily, and one screamed. The smell of burning flesh emanated from where one of the Scors had been struck by lightning. After realizing they wouldn’t be able to make it through the wall of water, the remaining three Scors began to pace impatiently, their mandibles clacking viciously as they whipped their stingers against the wall, testing it for weakness. Lila let go of Battleaxe and pried Graute’s hand off her arm, watching Battleaxe closely. The giant’s stance was rock-solid, and he didn’t move an inch despite the massive drain on his body. His face slowly began to grow white with the strain of maintaining the impressive barrier, and Lila feared they would have to fight the Scors. With another loud screech, the Scors retreated into the Forest. After making sure that none were left on the bank, Battleaxe walked slowly to the other side, holding the barrier around him. Lila and Graute hurried to make sure they weren’t swept back into the river, and soon all three of them were on the other side.

The giant dropped his ax to the ground and put his hands on his knees, panting. When he’d recovered, he returned to his full height, and, with the same intensity he’d aimed at the pack of Scors that had been trying to tear them limb from limb, he aimed his ax at Lila’s face. Freezing, Lila looked straight at the ax, her hands high above her head. 

With an expression more venomous than a Scor’s, Battleaxe scolded Lila, “Do anything like that again, and I’ll kill you myself.” Lila swallowed hard, her hands still high, and nodded quickly. The ax dropped, and Battleaxe turned to Graute. “Lead on, elf, and quickly. I don’t know how long we will be able to evade the Scors before they return to hunt us.” Graute nodded quickly and walked off, disappearing into the murk of the Darkness once more. With one final glare at Lila, Battleaxe stomped after Graute and Lila followed, silently regretting the time she’d decided to put a little light into her life.

Chapter 7

It was like the Forest refused to end, and Lila was reaching the end of her endurance. They’d been walking for at least ten hours straight and had yet to see any sign of civilization, animals, or humans. No game trails of deer or other docile creatures. They’d run into several packs of Scors, but Graute had safely guided them past, relying on his impossibly sharp sense of hearing and smell to maneuver between the massive trees and get them past the Scors’ nests without alerting them. Battleaxe was also incredibly helpful, slicing through sharp bushes and branches that Graute insisted hadn’t been there the last time he’d passed through this area and slaying the occasional beast that crossed their path before it alerted others to their presence. Lila, unfortunately, was still recovering from her wounded pride. Lighting up the Forest certainly wasn’t one of her best moments; if it weren’t for Battleaxe’s quick thinking and exceptionally powerful magic, none of them would still be around to finish the mission. Lila shook her head, hard. The time for meditating on her mistakes would come later. For now, she had to focus on getting through the Forest alive and not messing up anymore. Her legs were cramping, Lila tightened the straps of her backpack and pushed forward, closing the distance between her and Graute; Battleaxe had insisted on taking the rear, to keep his eye on her lest she tried something stupid again.

Noticing her closer presence, Graute turned and gave her a tight smile. Despite the elf’s slimy nature and the superhuman endurance that all elves and creatures of magic enjoyed, even this pace was taking its toll on Graute. His eyes were shadowed, and he hadn’t said more than three words since their attack by the Scors five hours ago. However, Graute hadn’t stopped moving once, and it didn’t look like anyone was particularly happy to be the first to demand a rest. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Darkness seemed to lighten a little, revealing a small clearing where no trees had taken root. A massive, rocky knoll had burst from the ground, like the knuckle of some ancient spirit, and no trees had been able to grow over it. The clearing was lighter than the surrounding woods, but the Darkness was still thick enough to block out any light from the sun above them. Or perhaps night had fallen again, and it would have been dark anyway. Lila had no idea, although the weight in her eyelids and the leaden feeling in her legs didn’t care much.

Graute led the way about halfway up the knuckle of rock and Battleaxe squeezed through a crevice to reveal a medium-size cave. Completely sheltered from the outside, the cave was large enough for the three of them to sleep comfortably, and for their equipment to be laid out as well.

“Sorry,” said Graute, gesturing to the cave around them with both arms. “We can’t go on much longer than this, and this is one of the only places where we can rest.”

Battleaxe grunted. “We would have to stop anyway. I will take the first watch.” He marched back off to the entrance and squeezed back out, where he planted his bulk on the rocky ledge overlooking the woods and crossed his legs.

Graute looked at Lila. “You can cast a little light in here,” he said. “It’s closed off enough that nothing will notice.”

Lila began to glare at Graute before she sighed, realizing he’d meant no offense. Conjuring a few logs of wood and some tinder, Lila built a small fire and lit it, hoping to gain some warmth and comfort from its presence. It also provided a constant, non-magical source of light that wouldn’t drain her energy while she was sleeping. Graute didn’t object at the fire and began to sort through his travel backpack, rearranging his things. Confused, Lila turned away from the fire and made her way to the cave wall, she laid out her bedroll, sat against the rock wall, too tired to sleep and too wired to lay down and try. Closing her eyes to try to achieve some modicum of rest, she opened them again when she heard Graute had stopped moving about and gave a loud sigh as he sat back against the wall.

“Graute, do you actually know where we’re going?” asked Lila. It seemed like they’d been walking in circles for hours. On a certain level, she knew it was probably just the fatigue and lack of directionality in the Darkness, but she couldn’t help asking.

Graute put his hand on his heart and made an expression of extreme offense. “Lila, please. You wound me. I thought I’d made it clear I was the master of these woods.”

“The first time you talked about this Forest, you said you’d only cut through the edge of it before. Then, when we first went in, you said, ‘Home, sweet home.’ Now you call yourself the ‘master of these woods’? Your story seems to change every time, Graute.”

“Well, I have to admit you’ve got me there,” admitted Graute. “I’ve spent more time in this Forest than I care to advertise, and for good reason.” He waved his hand toward the Forest. “You’ve seen all the monsters out there, and I’ve only taken us through the lightest part of the Forest. In some parts, the Darkness gets so bad that you can’t even see the tip of your nose, and that’s where all the most aggressive monster packs live. Giant snakes that coil themselves around trees from top to bottom, and the entire troll nation.”

“Troll nation?”

“Oh yeah, even monsters organize themselves. Not pleasant, but they have their own chief, and occasionally, they send out raiding parties to attack Federation cities. The Federation sends a couple of squads to break them up every few years, but trolls aren’t very smart, you see? Some idiot always manages to convince the rest that they have a chance at stealing the nearby villages’ women and cattle, and the cycle starts again.”

Lila slowly absorbed this. Giant snakes? Monster civilizations? What exactly were they doing in a place like this? She put her question into words.

“What exactly are we doing here, Graute? You can’t be telling me that there’s no other way to get where we’re going without going through here?”

“Well, it wasn’t my idea to come through here, was it? This is the fastest way for us to get to those three villages. However, as for what we’re doing right now, I have a slightly different destination in mind, which should help us get through this Forest a little faster. Where I am taking us is to the house of my good buddy Cole McGarth, possibly the only person mad enough to live this deep in the Dark Forest.”

“Why him?” said Lila, “and why are we going to him in the first place?”

“Between where we are and where we’re going,” explained Graute, “is an exceptionally Dark section of the Forest. Going around would take too long, and cutting through is pretty much impossible. The only way for us to get there in time is to take the Underground, a network of tunnels that the goblins used back when they ruled this land to get through the Forest quickly. Cole’s house is built on a weak point directly north of this cave, where the tunnels get close to the surface, and over the years, he’s broken through the ground into the tunnel system in a few places. If we get to him, we’ll have a decent place to shelter, and we’ll be perfectly positioned to enter the tunnels. If my memory serves, there’s a direct route through there to get us to Barum, the elven city, and from there, we can figure out some other mode of transport to take us to the three villages.”

“That’s fine, but how could someone like this, Cole, live all the way out here?” asked Lila suspiciously. “This Forest isn’t exactly a hospitable place, you know. And he’d need to be able to get access to food, water, and supplies, all without being attacked by the massive hordes of Scors that we just ran into.”

Graute smirked and spread his hands. “I want you to imagine the strongest, most brutal troll, and the sneakiest, stealthiest elf, and them having a child. That’s Cole for you. The man is a legend. Not exactly the most fun person to hang out with, but always willing and eager to help strangers out. He’s a genuinely good guy.” Graute stopped and thought for a second. “Oh, and his house is an arsenal. He’s got enough firepower in his house and traps laid out around it to push back any assault of Scors, trolls, or goblins. Cole McGarth is a one-man army, and with the amount of power he has, he could single-handedly kill all the Scors in the Forest. Not that he wants to, of course.”

Lila snorted, unconvinced. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Come on, Lila,” said Graute. “When have I led you astray?”

Time would tell if what he was saying was true. The journey was turning out to be much harder than she’d thought, and she would have to continue pulling her weight for a lot longer before things got any better. She would probably have to do more than pull her weight, given the near catastrophe she’d almost caused earlier. It wouldn’t do for her to beat herself up too much about it, but she had to make sure she’d learned her lesson. If she didn’t learn fast, someone could die next time. Lila’s joints clicked as she got up and walked over to her backpack. Graute had fallen silent and had his eyes closed. She rifled through the backpack and pulled out some travel wafers and water-skins. Laying a pack of the stale crackers by Graute’s hand and leaving him a skin, she walked out of the cave, making her way to where Battleaxe was sitting, polishing his ax. Approaching him warily, she sat down at an angle to him carefully and set the food down between the two of them.

She cleared her throat, nervously. “I brought you some food,” she said. “I thought you’d be hungry.”

Battleaxe grunted. “I have trained to survive off little food for days at a time.” Lila was about to reply, when he continued, “But your gesture is appreciated. Thank you.”

The path seemed clear. Lila proceeded with her next question.

“What you did before…” she started. Battleaxe nodded, scanning the Forest around them. “You summoned that wall of water and that lightning without a wand.” It was a question that had been grating on her mind. “Did you really do all that without a conduit? That was some truly spectacular magic.”

“Not spectacular, but necessary,” said Battleaxe. “Most mages forget that magic is an intrinsic component of the body and soul. Wands and staves help us channel it. When it comes to moments of extreme stress or fear, the body can exceed its limits and channel more energy than it ever thought possible, achieving incredible things. If you train hard, you can control your power beyond those limits in ordinary times as well.” Lila nodded, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty that she’d been the cause of that circumstance.

Battleaxe seemed to notice Lila’s guilt. “You made a grave mistake, and I do not take back what I said. You must learn discernment and reason quickly. I have not the time to educate you in every aspect of combat and mission behavior.”

Lila nodded, her jaw clenched. She would do everything she could to become a valuable asset to the team. Battleaxe snorted and spoke. “However, my channeling of that much magical energy wasn’t due to the stress of the situation.” Reaching across the gap, he placed his massive ax in her outstretched hands. When he let go of the ax, Lila let out a gasp at the excessive weight in her arms. The ax must have weighed over sixty pounds, yet Battleaxe had carried it as though it were weightless. Although the ax seemed normal in size to him, to any other person, the ax would have been a pole-arm or a set of blades mounted on—

“It’s a staff!” said Lila excitedly, forgetting her black mood. “It’s not just a handle; this is a magical weapon!”

Battleaxe smiled. “It is indeed. I had the blades mounted many years ago when I realized that switching between my ax and my staff in the middle of combat was incredibly wasteful of my time. Wielding both at the same time grants me a great advantage in terms of speed and adds an element of surprise to opponents, not expecting me to wield magic against them.”

Lila’s mind raced as she considered the possibilities. Engaging in combat with both a bladed weapon and a magical one gave the fighter an immense advantage against magically armored foes, using the blades to cut through the armor and magic to finish them off. Obviously, mounting blades on a wand was a bit of a tough predicament, but she was already beginning to imagine incorporating wands into a variety of weapons.

“What were you speaking with Graute about?” asked Battleaxe, pointing his thumb back into the cave. Lila quickly relayed to him everything Graute had said about their destination, the tunnels, and Cole, the elf-troll.

“Hmm. I do not like the idea of putting our fates in the hands of someone else,” said Battleaxe, “and someone living in the shade of these trees sounds incredibly suspicious to me.”

“I thought the same thing,” said Lila. “We should definitely keep our guard up when we meet this Cole. Then again, it’s not like Graute is incredibly trustworthy either,” she added.

“No,” replied Battleaxe. “He is far from trustworthy.”

Something came to the forefront of Lila’s memory. “I read the file on Graute before we left,” she said. “There was something strange there. It said that, while he was a criminal, the deal was that completing the mission would grant him parole for the rest of his sentence, and that, to keep him in check, he’d formed some kind of agreement with you. What exactly is that?” It had been something weighing on her mind. If Graute indeed was a criminal, wouldn’t the Forest have been the best opportunity for him to escape? Battleaxe and Lila would be lost in the Forest without a guide and unable to chase him, and he would be able to slip past the Scors, trolls, and other monsters to get back to civilization any way he liked. Opar was his home, after all. They’d effectively freed him from prison and flown him back to his home continent for free.

Battleaxe stroked his beard for a few seconds before answering. “It is a matter I didn’t feel comfortable committing to. The Bureau had us both sign an extra contract, like the one you no doubt signed when you first learned of the Mirror, but this one was to have Graute and I ‘intertwined’ for the duration of the mission.” At Lila’s questioning glance, Battleaxe attempted to clarify. “It is a difficult concept. Magically, it allows for the fates of two individuals to be tied. Intertwinement is still a relatively new concept, and not all of its specifics are known, but the idea was that Graute would be unwilling to desert us while in Opar lest my fate is one undesirable to him. He would have to guide us and work to protect the group while we traveled for his own benefit.”

“Seems overly complicated to me,” said Lila. “Why not just shackle him with a magical bind, or have him maintain a set distance to you at all times?”

Battleaxe shook his head. “To limit his freedom in such a way might reduce the efficiency of our performance in battle. If such an enchantment were set, and we were forced to break it, the consequences might mean our lives.” Battleaxe shrugged. “I’m sure there are better solutions, but this was the best the Bureau could come up within such a short time.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?” pressed Lila. The idea of having her future intertwined with someone else seemed highly intrusive and a definite breach of her private life. How anyone could accept that kind of arrangement was beyond her.

“I am not pleased,” he admitted. “But we do not always get to choose how circumstances play out. If this is what is necessary to maintain the presence of a reliable guide on our journey, then it must be done.”

Lila nodded. “I’ll take the second watch,” she said. “Wake me in a few hours.” Taking Battleaxe’s silence for acceptance, Lila walked back into the cave, where the fire had begun to die down. Graute was buried in his bedroll, his blond hair poking out from the top and his entire body inside. Poking her wand into the fire to bring it back to life, Lila drained her water-skin, crunched down a few travel crackers, and lay down. Sleep took a long time to come, but when it did, she dreamed of soft beds, bright skies, and cool winds.

A rough hand shook her awake. Mumbling and struggling to return from the land of sleep, she waved her arm in front of her head, trying to dispel the force shaking her, only for the hand to shake her harder. Suddenly realizing where she was, her eyes slammed open to be greeted by Battleaxe’s massive grim visage.

* * *

“Graute is gone.”

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