The city guard shows up later, and Hemral explains what happened. I don’t really listen, because I don’t particularly care. I just watch as the blue fire burns itself away, leaving only a pile of charred black shapes in the street. It must have been a magical fire: Even the glass is reduced to melted blobs. I half-heartedly have Echo scan the smoldering pile, but she only comes up with [Unidentifiable burnt remains.] At some point the guards leave, Hemral shuts his broken door, and the night continues on.
I don’t try to get anywhere safe. The alley is too far away, and I can’t drag myself more than a few inches on these broken legs. I’m up against the wall of Cloud’s Arcane Artifacts, out of the street, though I don’t know that I would try to move even if I was in the middle of the road. I’m just… tired of all this. I’m tired of trying so hard, and fucking it up, over and over again. I’m done. I quit. Once the spell ends, at least the predator can’t hurt anyone anymore.
Time numbly passes.
The sky goes from black to blue to purple. People walk by on the streets. Before dawn, Hemral reemerges to clean up the pile of ashes left in the middle of the road. He doesn’t bother with the rest of the scattered debris, so he doesn’t see me. I don’t know if that’s for better or worse.
I’m beginning to think that my plan to just wait for the spell to end might take too long. I’ve never been a patient person.
Crushed would probably be the best. A fast death. No one would even see me out in the middle of the street. I could probably drag myself that far, at least.
Perhaps I could be a little more proactive with Lightbeam. There’s not enough light out now for it to work, but if I used it as a Spell instead of a Skill…
I shiver at the thought. No, even I’m not that desperate. The idea is to get myself killed so the predator doesn’t have another chance to eat people. I can’t risk giving it any more mana. Although, given I’d accidentally summoned the Attuned void from my inventory last night, I might have already inadvertently raised the stat anyway. I Check it out of habit.
[Void: 54%]
Strange. Isn’t that the same as it was before? But I returned the Attuned void to my inventory. Shouldn’t that have added a percent? I thought I had this system figured out.
Echo, why didn’t my Void stat increase when I added the Attuned void back to my inventory? I ask.
[The void cannot derive energy from itself,] Echo says.
What the fuck does that mean?
I wasn’t asking Echo, but she replies anyway. [The Void stat increases as energy is expended into the Between via mana or matter for the “Predator”—as designated by the user—to harness.]
Clear as mud. Why is it called a Void stat then? What do you mean by the void deriving energy from itself? What’s that got to do with the predator?
[Between is the dimension from which null arcana arises,] Echo says. [Void is a physical element associated with null arcana, comparative to how stone is associated with earth arcana, or water with storm arcana. The predator was able to survive the Between by merging with the void it found there. The resulting entity is both being and magic.]
Weird. So void isn’t just the predator, it’s also a kind of magic. And the predator just happens to be… a special, horrifying flavor of void. Well I guess that sort of explains how it’s harvesting my mana usage. But what has that got to do with my inventory?
[The user’s inventory is a compressed, isolated pocket of Between. When matter passes through the barrier between dimensions, residual energy disperses into the void.]
A sickly feeling creeps through me. My inventory is part of the Between? I don’t like that. Imagining the predator stuck in some other distant dimension was vaguely reassuring, but the idea that I’ve been accessing a portion of that dimension at-will feels far too intimate and close.
So if I’ve got this right, void is a type of null magic that floats around the Between. And the predator merged with some of that void. And now anytime I use a spell or put something in my inventory, it’s able to harness that energy until it’s built up enough to pull itself back into reality—though it doesn’t seem to be able to survive here very long without more energy. Maybe that’s why it’s been trying to eat the souls of anyone it can get its claws on when it appears.
But when I Attuned it, I was able to strip a little piece of that magic away from the predator. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that. I mean, I guess it’s great that I was able to co-opt a sliver of the predator’s power. Yay. And it’s also nice that putting the Attuned void back Between doesn’t seem to have any effect on causing the predator to pull the rest of itself from Between. Double yay.
But I don’t want anything to do with it. I don’t want to touch it, I don’t want to be able to control it. I want to leave it where it is and never see it again.
Which, I remind myself, should be easy, considering as soon as my spell expires, I’m going to die.
Oh, yeah. Right.
I don’t know why I’m even bothering trying to puzzle out all this void stuff. It won’t matter soon anyway. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t be so engaged.
I’ve given up, right? There’s nothing more to do but sit around and wait for the inevitable.
Since it won’t matter anyway, and I’m not planning to add it back in, I bring out Trenevalt’s charmed beads from my inventory.
Only two beads are left glowing on the bracelet, and one of them is starting to dim.
Too short of a time to bring help to Noli. Too long of a time to wait for the seconds to just tick away. How can it feel like too fast and too slow all at once?
I’m sorry, Noli. I wish you’d never fallen into this mess with me. You deserved someone smarter or stronger or more creative to figure all this out. Instead, you got me. Someone who always seemed to be one step behind. Someone who gave up when things got too tough.
I always wanted to be the action hero: bullet proof, swooping in to save the day and get the cute blond. That’s why I went into acting. To be the star. The irony doesn’t escape me that now, the first time it’s really counted, when I was given the chance to step up, I choked. I’m no champion or white knight.
Turns out I was just fragile all this time. And now I broke.
The murmur of life returns to the city as the sun rises, people filling the streets as their work days begin. I think about fixing my leg. I think about returning the beads to my inventory. I think about trying to drag myself back to the inn in the hopes that Zyneth returns and just magically solves everything. But I don’t do any of that. I just sit and wait. Tired. Numb.
Some people comment on the broken stones and pieces of glass that remain scattered in the street. They crunch under foot each time someone goes by, and I idly think about someone stepping on me the same way. The thought makes me uneasy, which in turn makes me ashamed. I’ve already died once. What am I afraid of?
“What happened here?” another person wonders as they pass through the scarred street.
Nothing much, I think. Just a bunch of people failing at playing hero.
“It’s like the other shops,” they say. “This is the third one.”
Something about their voice sounds faintly familiar. I don’t understand why, though, because just about the only person in this world I’ve exchanged any significant words with is Zyneth, and this definitely isn’t his quiet timbre. I spare an uninterested look at the speaker, and give a start because for a moment I think it is Zyneth: a cambion with rust-red skin, curling horns, a pointed tail—and bifocals. No, it’s not him. But it is someone I’ve met before.
Attiru, the map maker.
What on earth are they doing here?
“What’s that?” They’re looking down at something cupped in their hand. “What are… Where?” They squint, their gaze sweeping over the ground. Looking for something.
Coincidentally, their eyes land on me.
“Oh yes, I think I see,” Attiru says. “You sure?” They step over to the side of the road, in my direction, and for a moment I think they’re about to step on me, or kick my glass as they pass over, and I tense up in anticipation.
Only, to my amazement, for them to crouch down in front of me. Still looking at me. Definitely looking at me. Not a coincidence at all.
They lower their hand to the pavement, and in their cupped palm is a copper toy octopus.
