How many days had it been since Pan discovered Brynn’s true nature? Pan couldn’t remember.

She sat on the church steps, wrapped her arms around her knees, and waited. Pan had traveled far enough. Now, she expected Brynn to find her. She counted on it.

Pan didn’t have the whole time message thing figured out per se, but she pronounced it serviceable.

She’d used it to taste unfamiliar berries. Pan poisoned herself twice, but she just warned her past self not to eat them. Pan also rooted through wild vegetable gardens and used her time message to find the best patches in the shortest amount of time. The power proved easier to control than portal making. Soon, she’d be sending previous Pan all kinds of notes. Already, she thought of numerous possibilities for the power’s use in art. Pan could treat her time message as a kind of eraser or learning tool. With all the time in the world to learn, Pan could become a truly great artist.

As it if even matters.

The potential Pan saw in her time message paled in comparison to the hopes she had for her healing power. Pan held up her hand and flexed it. She hadn’t felt tingles or sharp pricks since she reaped the healer. She’d never have to live with the nerve damage, inflicted by her arcane status, again. She had yet to learn control of the power. She just let it wash over her, and now she barely noticed its presence. In mere days, she took it for granted.

Pan had yet to take portals for granted. Sometimes, she forgot about the power and missed opportunities to use it. And, those opportunities were numerous. She could shorten a walk, enter a locked building, steal from a box, and spy from above. The rules surrounding portals seemed complex. Possibly more complex than seeing ghosts. Pan expected to learn about that new power for years to come, especially since she had no one to learn from. The only portal maker died in a mine a long time ago, with little understanding of portals. Even if there had been thousands of portal makers, Pan would have lost access to them forever.

She could no longer count herself among the arcanes.

How did I get to this point? When did it start?

Pan frowned. She didn’t think her struggles had to do with her mere existence. She didn’t hate herself that much. She’d leave that kind of thinking to Brynn.

Maybe, Pan’s first mistake had been reaping Nella. She remembered Nella’s body...and Nella’s spirit. Nella, newly dead, had been confused about Pan the reaper. Then, before the ghost took on a more sinister appearance, she just disappeared.

Not much of a complainer. She must have been a joy to the mentors.

Telekinesis had been Pan’s first conscious attempt to reap, and the way she picked the power up most resembled the actions of reapers before her. But, did it really set her on this path?

Pan thought the first power she took, ghost sight, had that honor. She reaped the ghost seer by instinct. She never learned the girl’s name. She never once felt the urge to know it. Instinctual reaping truly lacked control. Even more so than a calculated scavenge. Instinctual reaping was the route of the reaper problem.

Yet, Pan supposed instinctual reaping was the mark of a good reaper. Ghost sight was the only power she felt complete ownership of, and she took it by instinct. Ghost sight she did well. She couldn’t say the same of telekinesis or portal making, healing or time message. She still thought of those powers as someone else’s, and Pan believed it held her back. Reapers needed to adopt the fallen’s powers and claim them as their own.

To take without remorse…but to do it after the arcane has left their body through no fault of mine.

Pan would never wait for someone to die when she could help them. She would never kill them for their power. But, Pan vowed that she would adopt these powers and think of them as her own. If she ever had the chance or desire to take another, she would take it by instinct and keep it well.

And that would be a good way to reap. That would be what Brynn did, except better, because Pan wouldn’t do it in the shadows.

Brynn.

What was Brynn doing right now? Certainly not enjoying her anonymity, not anymore. Pan wanted Brynn to find her, but the woman never did what Pan wanted. Maybe, Brynn would just flee Scaldigir and leave Pan looking stupid.

That would be just like her.

Pan laughed to herself. Hopefully, Brynn didn’t also possess a time message ability. They might find themselves locked in an eternal battle. No, Pan would definitely defeat her. She would find a way. Moments of silence passed. Pan, insensible to time, waited.

 

“Didn’t I say to do nothing?”

Pan looked up. Below the church steps, Brynn waited. Slowly, Pan stood. She remained at the top and looked down.

Brynn still held her staff, but not in a way that helped her to stand. She held it like some great hero or villain of history. “Look at the mess you’ve made. Do you know how hard it’s been for me to get a ship?”

“You have one?”

Brynn smiled. “No. Actually, I might need your help to get it.”

“My help?” Pan scoffed. “What makes you think I’m good enough to help you get a ship out from under hundreds of other arcanes?”

“I know how busy you’ve been. I’m wondering what powers you picked up. Portal making – check. Healing – check. Anything else? You did walk through a graveyard on your way here. How was that power? – If you found one. Aged like a fine cheese?” Brynn raised her eyebrows. “Come on. There’s a good ship in Altech. I think we can get it.” Brynn beckoned.

“What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?”

“You don’t have much choice. You don’t know anything about space travel, and you’ve scared off all your friends. What are you going to do, live off wild berries?” Brynn regarded Pan with a look of derision. “I have to admit, you’ve managed to turn things around in a short amount of time. I have to commend you, but you became a grave robber and a fugitive to do it!”

“It’s a whole lot better than waiting in a hospital ward for children to die, not to mention the ones you sent on their way yourself,” Pan said.

“Can you not just let this go?”

 

Aria sat astride a still motorbike and clung to Gavain. On the outskirts of Kallitech, they waited. Sotir sat straight on his motorbike and stared into the city. His aura blazed white.

“We have to let her fight Brynn,” he repeated.

“We know,” Aria said. “You’ve said that already. If we don’t let Pan fight Brynn here, then Pan will have to fight publicly and die, trying to avoid the other arcanes and defeat Brynn.”

“She needs to focus.” Sotir had said that before as well.

Gavain put his chin to his shoulder and looked behind at Aria. “Is he alright?” Gavain’s aura reached for Sotir with concern and a hint of fear.

“I think he could use a break.” Aria almost got off the motorbike. She planned to plunge her hand into that aura and shake her friend out of it.

Sotir’s white aura shrank, and Aria saw him turn grey and blue.

Sotir shook his head. Then, he looked to his friends. “We need to wait here just a little while longer. We want to be there for when Pan beats Brynn. If we don’t arrive in the exact window, we’ll lose her.” Sotir frowned.

“Chances aren’t good?” Aria asked.

“No, actually, we have about a fifty-fifty chance. I’m just confused. Pan’s new power is...well, it makes her exceptionally hard to read.”

“Do you know what the new power is?” 

Sotir shook his head. His aura swirled blue.

“Sotir? What are you thinking?”

“I really don’t know. She might have some kind of time warp ability. It’s the best explanation I have. That would be powerful enough to beat Brynn and hard for me to read.” Sotir exhaled. “We’ll find out, but we have to do our part right.”

The group fell silent. Sotir waited. He kept his hands on the bike and his eyes on the center of Kallitech.

Aria couldn’t see well as she hugged Gavain. She didn’t try to get a better view of Kallitech. She just hung on, ready for the bike to move suddenly.

“You don’t have to come,” Aria whispered in Gavain’s ear.

“Who’s going to drive you?” Gavain asked.

“I could ride with Sotir again. This is an arcane problem. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. You barely know either of us.” Aria rested her head against Gavain’s shoulder.

“I know you well enough, and someday, I’ll know you better. I want to help. I’d be interested in helping Pan whether you were here or not. Her situation...it’s history shaping.” Gavain’s aura shimmered with gold.

Aria took notice. The color sparkled around her, touching her hair, her nose, her cheek. It dissipated, and Aria saw no more of the elusive altruism.

She took a deep breath and smelt the Porza. “I don’t know how you stand me.”

Gavain stifled a laugh. “Well, you don’t smell good. Imagine having how you smelled mentioned in a history book. We’ll try to get it written out.”

Aria sighed.

“Go!” Sotir shouted. He gunned the motorbike and sped ahead.

He drove over a white, green flow of grass and got a small lead as Gavain reacted. Their motorbike revved and took off. Aria watched Sotir’s aura, which swirled with a chaotic multitude of color: white and grey and red and yellow and gold. Aria could look away and still see him. Sotir dimmed the entire surroundings, and Aria could barely make out the glow of unused buildings. They hummed with grey and the non-sentient white of nature, a poor competitor to Sotir’s medley.

Gavain struggled to catch Sotir. The young arcane man had a huge head start.

“Don’t lose him,” Aria warned.

“I won’t.”

We’ve got to catch Pan. This is it.

Sotir rounded a corner, and Gavain followed. He almost ran into Sotir. Gavain pressed the brakes, and they skidded to a halt.

Sotir stared ahead. “We’re a little early, but that’s okay. We can still manage this.”

Aria followed Sotir’s gaze and saw two figures. One stood high, atop a set of stairs. The other stood at the base. Aria couldn’t see the people, but she saw their auras, which blazed. At the bottom, sorrowful blue, red frustration, and crimson anger burned. It faced off against blood red and rivulets of gold, arranged into a flame of its own.

Aria couldn’t guess who was who. Was Pan red and blue? Or was she red and gold? Nothing of Aria’s mentor or friend remained.

“Sotir,” Aria said. “Which one’s Pan?”

“She’s the top.”

The top! Pan in red and gold? Aria hadn’t seen so much gold in Pan’s aura in a long time.

“Pan!” Aria shouted.

Brynn’s aura remained unaffected, but Pan must have given Aria a brief look. Her red faltered but only a little.

Sotir held up a hand. “Let her focus, Aria.”

Aria went quiet and watched.