Of all the magical methods of travel he’d experienced during his time in Ahya, Eric had to say that being transported via druid magic was his least favorite. It seemed to take nearly ten times as long as the Ancient spell World Shift, and he was surrounded by darkness the entire time. What was more, he could physically feel his body being pushed deep beneath the earth and traveling through it. At times, it was uncomfortably hot, as if he were passing directly underneath a pool of lava. But for the most part, it was ice-cold, enough to make him numb.

What would have happened, he wondered, if the druids sending him back to Tyrman had made a mistake in their trajectory? Perhaps it was impossible for him to make contact with one of the many natural sites of extreme heat, but to the one actually traveling, it felt like a distinct possibility. He hated that, despite having a fear of small or dark spaces, he ended up still feeling a bit claustrophobic. But at least it didn’t break the rule of traveling between planes, as he remained firmly on Ahya for the duration of his trip.

But now that was behind him, and hopefully, it would not be an experience he was required to repeat. He’d quite literally popped out of the ground with a shudder, surrounded by men and women in earth-colored clothing, and couldn’t stagger away from his point of arrival fast enough. If he had wings, he would have taken to the sky; so powerful was his aversion to the soil in that moment. Then again, if he’d had wings, he could have just crossed the ocean on them.

“Relax, friend,” A woman said, gripping him on the shoulder as he stumbled away from the tree he’d appeared out of the base of. She was slender but surprisingly strong. “Take a moment to collect yourself. It is an unnerving feeling, even for the most experienced.”

She had that right, he thought, sinking to his haunches and catching his breath. He was very winded, given that all he’d done was lay in place. He looked down at his jacket, expecting to find his clothing caked with dirt. There was some there, but for the whole, it was clean. He brushed himself off, then decided to do the polite thing and thank the woman for her help.

“Thank you for getting me back from Welsik,” he said, giving her a shallow bow. “You’re right. I may not have enjoyed that, but it is appreciated. I couldn’t afford to take the long route home.”

“It is our pleasure to help the Lord of Storms,” the woman said. “He is the most Ancient of people and a close friend of our God.”

Pays to have connections, Eric thought but didn’t say. “I’ve never heard Samuel referred to as the Lord of Storms. What is that from?”

Samuel’s many titles were usually accompanied by some tale, a healthy mix of legend and truth. This was no exception. “It is said that, during one of his trips to Zaban, Lord Bragg pacified a hurricane that threatened to overwhelm the town. For this, he was honored.”

“Huh.” Eric wondered if that had anything to do with one of his other titles, Maelstrom. It was a kind of storm, after all. He put the matter aside. “Well, thank you, err…”

He realized he hadn’t asked the woman for her name. She smiled widely and gave a slight bow. “I am Malynn Shaso, Elder of this village.”

The name had a strange sort of resonance for him like he’d met the woman before. He returned her bow. “Thank you, Elder Shaso. I am Eric Breeden.”

“Welcome to our commune, Lord Breeden,” she said, spreading her arms to indicate the large open space. Eric could see now that he’d arrived at the fringe of what looked like a traditional druidic commune. Admittedly, his experience with the druids of Dagorra Forest was virtually nonexistent. He avoided going into the forest whenever possible, as it had been his original point of entry into the world of Ahya. It also always felt like the forest was alive, watching and judging his actions. He suspected that he wasn’t far from the truth of the matter, seeing as this was Grimr’s home in the Mortal Plane.

“Well, thank you again,” he said. “I’ll be off now. There are important matters I have to be present in Milagre for.”

-

The druid colony had lent him a Stravian to make the multiple-hour trip pass quickly. In less than half an hour, he was flying over the city of Milagre, making a direct path for the palace. He’d been sorely tempted to visit his home before anything else to check on his wife and child but had remembered at the last moment that they likely wouldn’t be there. The beast hadn’t even bothered to reply to his light tug on the rein. It seemed that it was intent on flying him only to the palace and nowhere else.

It was a much gentler landing this time, and he’d stepped off it’s back the second it had come to a halt. The palace was much busier than his last visit to the building. Men in armor were rushing back and forth, important people were shouting orders, and attendants were visible, carrying great stacks of paper as they tried to run between their various tasks. Eric, used to the busy streets of Milagre, had no trouble weaving between the traffic. He nodded his head to the guards outside the throne room, who recognized him and let him pass without a word.

“Eric!” Samuel was inside the throne room, not the war planning space behind it. What was more, he wasn’t alone. A small crowd of people was there, gathered in front of the Queen. His face drained of color, and he rushed over to him. “Don’t come closer!”

There was an unmistakable tone of command in his voice that stopped Eric in his tracks. Samuel didn’t sound angry with him. He looked frightened. He made a complicated gesture with his hands, and with a sharp stab of deja vu, Eric felt his body stiffen. He was definitely at the right time, and Samuel clearly recognized him. So why was he being restrained?

“What?” He yelped, struggling against the spell without quite meaning to. “What is the meaning of this, Samuel? Let me go!”

“I’m sorry, Eric,” Samuel said. “It is a necessary precaution. I cannot risk you becoming possessed as well.”

Possessed? Eric couldn’t wrap his mind around the strange word. Nearly six years spent in Ahya, and it was the first he’d heard of it as a possibility. Sure, there were arcane spells that could assault the mind of another. Samuel had taught him some basic defenses against it. But fully possessing another person? He’d always assumed that it was impossible in those rare moments when he considered it. But now he glanced around at the crowd of people around the Queen and even at the Queen herself. For some reason, they were also not moving, aside from some futile struggling.

“Why are all these people frozen?” Eric asked though he thought he might know. They were possessed. By what, he had no clue.

“I’ll answer that in a moment,” Samuel said. He stood directly in front of him and put his right palm to Eric’s chest. “Bear with me. This will be disorienting, but it will cause no damage to you, or anyone who might be sharing your body.”

Sharing your body. The words would have made him shiver if he wasn’t completely incapable of moving his body below the neck. Even so, he felt a chill run up his spine, and the tiny hairs on his neck prickled at the thought. Then Samuel’s eyes flashed, and Eric shattered apart. At least, that was how it felt to him. He was thrown backward from his body by what felt like a powerful explosion, ending up several feet back from it.

The world around him had changed, and drastically so. Everything had a vaguely ethereal feel to it, as though the entire room had become… less solid. There were invisible disturbances in the air, much like the heat waves that would come off of hot pavement, and unless he was hallucinating, he could have sworn that he could see thin streams of smoke coming off of everybody else. But none of that strangeness could compare to the sight of what was directly in front of him.

There was his body, standing perfectly still. It reminded him of a movie he’d seen, one of those classic superhero films. One of the characters had been forcibly ejected from their body by a master of magic. It had been forced astral projection, in a way. But it wasn’t just his soul, he realized. In the space between his soul and body, there was a thin, barely visible field of white mist shaped vaguely like a person. Very strange. His mana, perhaps?

Before he could spare another thought as to what had happened, Samuel stepped back, pulling his hand away from Eric’s chest. At once, he was yanked forward and fell to his knees in shock. His actual knees, as he’d been returned to his body. It was shaking and shuddering violently, and he felt… incomplete. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the thought that he shouldn’t be designed to split into so many pieces like that.

Samuel let out a long sigh of relief. “Thank the Mother that you weren’t possessed. If an Infernal got ahold of that body, we’d be in big trouble.”

Now it clicked into place for Eric. The only time he’d heard of possession in Ahya had been in reference to Infernals. Megan had one, of course. He didn’t know Alice well, and even Megan wasn’t a master on the topic, but she’d known enough to give him a basic description of how it all worked. “I thought Infernals needed permission, or some sort of deal, to possess someone?”

“They don’t require permission if it’s just to hitch a quick ride across the seal,” Samuel said coldly. He still looked concerned, but not nearly as much now. “Mind you, it does significant damage to the body of who they pick, which guarantees that their stay is a short one. But the less noble-minded don’t care.”

Just then, the double doors behind him opened, and he turned to see a tall, limber young woman strolling into the throne room. She looked completely at home as if she’d been here many times, though Eric didn’t recognize her. Samuel seemed relieved to see her, at any rate. She spared only half a glance for Eric, still on one knee, and spoke directly to the Archmage.

“It’s done, Father,” she said. “Elder Shaso says she will accept Emma and Emily and that they will contain Verran for the time being to await your decision.”

The names of his wife and child instantly registered on Eric’s mind, and he shot to his feet, his moment of weak-kneed nervousness forgotten. He knew who the woman was now based on the way that she’d addressed Samuel and her long wavy red hair. It was obviously Elena but grown up. Something had changed in the last year since they’d met, causing her to mature quickly.

“What is this about my family?” He asked. In his moment of fear, his voice came out louder than expected. “What’s happened to them? And who is this Verran?”

Samuel looked hesitant to answer, but his daughter had no qualms about sharing the information. “Verran is the name of the Infernal who possessed me for three centuries. He spent some time away from me, inhabiting some disgraced Welsik noble. Now he’s possessing your daughter.”