Stupid bag, cutting into my thought like that is so rude. Now I can’t even pick it up if I wanted. Its like one of those memories from right before you fall asleep. Even if you do your best recalling it will always be next to impossible.

This anger feels odd.

Who the hell woke me up?

“This should do great as an invitation.”

With a splatter of chunks striking my face a new item appeared into the bag landing cleanly on my lap.

Far from the flowers seated on the tray beside me, is the decapitated head of what looks like an obese bandit of some strange make, that is now resting on my knee.

Should I count my blessing that most of the blood seems to have already drained and crusted? It feels like an empty thing to be happy about.

Nudging the head with a nearby ball of fabric it tumbles to the floor unceremoniously. Wrapping it in that same fabric and lugging it towards and edge of the bag I return to the place I typically sit with a weary expression.

“Kark, Loid, we are leaving! Grab whatever you want, we are burning this place down.”

So, there is more than one? But how did I get from the forest to here? Again the vagueness of the times when I receive very little amount of mana is a curse. At least when you are asleep, moving will wake you up, but if I’m handled properly I won’t even realize I am being moved. I’m a single thick leather bag away from never seeing the light of day again. But what’s new I suppose.

Atleast Noel properly escaped.

Didn’t she? I could defiently feel her slipping past the group that were rushing towards me, but past that is all hazy.

She definitely escaped. She’s smart.

She crossed the river as the kidnappers closed in on me, she made it back to the trail during the confusion and then finally got back to town. I’m sure in the days after she must have looked for me. I can’t imagine how she took it, losing…

Ah, perhaps I can imagine.

Maybe I am one of the few who could understand that sense of immense loss.

This is why I didn’t want to get attached. This is why I didn’t want to become friends with anyone on the outside. I was careful with the adventurers, the priest, and all the countless others afterwards. What is it about Noel that weakened my barrier?

Was it because she treated me as human from the start?

Truly a strange girl, I was never an ‘it’, she was even willing to call me by a name.

Maybe in someway she reminded me of Lotil? She was probably around the same age as when Lotil and I met. Although personality wise I would say they were almost polar opposites at that age, but they both shared that limitless drive underneath it all.

Come to think of it, those drastic personality differences were probably behaviors taught by their environment. I’d wager if their two lives had been swapped almost none of the content would change.

But I suppose I shouldn’t speak as if an expert on the topic.

In all honesty, I just want to think of anything in order to distract me from the sound of shallow screams coming from the burning fortress these monsters are walking away from.

If I had anything more in my stomach I might puke. Should I call myself lucky?

 

▐◊▌ ▐◊▌

 

“So, you geezers going to allow us to the table or what?” The most talkative of the group, Fet, boisterously babbles while holding the crusty head of the old boss by a lock of hair.

“Ted.” A man seated at the table quietly murmurs in response without a single glance.

Three pulses in quick succession again turn the small bag into a colosseum before reeling back in to a more average size.

Oh, ok.

Again the only man amongst the three who had spoken emits the same word once again. “Ted.”

This time Ted checks the pockets and pouches of each corpse. Finding nothing dangerous nearby I lazily hand him the blood-soaked rag to appease the rummaging hand.

Bringing the gold, jewelry and other stolen item to his owner Ted returns to his post against the door almost mindlessly.

Of course, their attention quickly directed to me much to Ted’s silent joy.

“Not sure of the make. Could be black-market works.” The lanky man thumbing at my red gem pants in intrigue.

“Well Zeke if you don’t recognize it I’d guess it’s not black-market.” The woman –apparently– at the end of the table smirks before turning a glance back to the bag. “Could be something new on market? Maybe that ooze-brained Gubg robbed some nobles before kicking the bucket.”

“Have a bit of respect for the fourth.” Ted’s owner mutters with a bow of his head and some odd religious gesture.

“Tsk.” The woman spits breath with a roll of her eyes. “You are just as glad that beef-bone is dead as I am. Quit hiding behind piteous nonsense, Charles. It’s not a great look on you.”

“I think I’ll let my wife decide what’s a good look on me, but thank you dearly for the critique Helta, I’ll be sure to take it to heart.” Charles grins in response before turning attention back to Zeke who gingergly prodded at the fabric and chain making up the bag. “Any insights?”

“I hate to say it, but I really think we should take it to them.” Zeke eventually sighs in resignation. “They’re the only ones who’d know what its capable of. And for some reason I have a feeling we’d be in a lot of trouble if we didn’t handle it properly.”

You’re god-damn right.

Reach your hands in. I dare you. I’ve got an axe ready for the first appendage I see. And then the next one can help me test if the green stuff in this bottle is toxic to the touch. My money is on ‘yes’.

Sorry in advance Ted, but you are no exception next time.

 

 

▐◊▌▐◊▌

 

I really didn’t expect them to stick with ‘Zeke’s’ words. But true to them, not a single finger even grazed the event horizon of the bag. I really thought they would sneakily try to steal me from each other, bandits that they are, but strangely they seem smart… or at least smarter than that.

It does explain their apparent positions in the criminal world. Zeke, controlling a majority of magic tool counterfeiting, Helta, who controls the production of all drugs throughout the country, and Charles, the pope of the Heavenly Light Chur… Cult.

They couldn’t have gotten to their positions by taking risks. And that includes with mysterious magic items.

I guess even in my day, as nobility, we were taught not to carelessly touch strange magic devices in fear that they might be explosive devices or otherwise hazardous to our health. A trojan horse–an immortal method of attack– mask a weapon as something benign, or even beneficial. What better way to sneak an attack behind strong defenses?

But there are more important things for me to focus on aren’t there?

Where are they taking me?

As smart as they may be, they aren’t insulating me from their mana, so I am atleast conscious enough to hear them when they speak.

Or, I could hear them atleast, if they were talking at all.

It really feels like these people don’t get along nearly as much as it appeared when seated around the table. Perhaps its something about where they are going that’s clamming them up.

In any case, with this much bland time forced upon me what better of a time to catch up on my reading.

I finished a handful of novels I found, and now I’m struggling through an old magic textbook.

There’s no comprehendible date on it so there’s no telling of the quality of its magic knowledge. But the pictures are good, and I’m honestly still a bit of a child at heart.

Have I turned seventeen yet?

How would I even gauge that?

Setting the thought aside reluctantly, I return to the reading. The topic is an interesting one, so it outweighs normal distractions. Projection was the name of the chapter title. And the first paragraph felt like it was written for me.

[Projection, is the ability for a soul to wander in known locations. By grasping at the prints of mana written in memories, its even possible to view inaccessible locations millions of miles away.]

It goes on to explain how, [Many people inadvertently Project while dreaming, this presents itself in the form of an ‘out-of-body experience’, this in itself proves the ease of Projection, with proper practice even novice magicians or beginners] like me, [could learn it.] 

Couldn’t I, with practice, project a view of outside of the bag?

The only flaw I can see is that I have no memory of the location I am currently in. It’s possible I do, but I have no way of confirming it either way.

I remember what the bag looks like, but I doubt that counts. Perhaps I could use the mana signatures I can feel from inside the bag, but for now I should stick with tried methods.

The book suggests choosing a single location you remember well to practice with.

I can only think of a single location fitting that description off the top of my head.

The cave exit.

A horrible, but still vivid, memory of the outside world.

The book continues its explanation on how one should practice. Put simply, you induce a partial sleep state. It suggests a few teas capable of the task as well as an herbal pill.

What are the chances I’d have the ingredients you ask?

A month ago; Zero.

Today; One hundred percent. 

Noel, I hope you’ll forgive me for borrowing a handful of  Accia Avita or, butterfly blossoms as you call them. Don’t worry, I won’t touch the Thronds, because I’m half sure they are the main ingredient in whatever thugs like Helta were selling to your mistress.

 

▐◊▌ ▐◊▌

 

Four attempts later and I did indeed have an out-of-body experience. Unfortunately, it was extremely short and I could only recognize a single detail from my past to reinforce that it was in fact the place I thought it was.

A tiny shimmer of light reflecting off something clear and crystalline. The whole area had become forest, and the orb itself was mostly covered in ferns and dirt but I’d recognize that place anytime.

The heart of the city still beats.

Wow that’s corny.

I can’t help but remain proud though. I really thought any fragment of my past had long vanished by now, but that might not be entirely the case after all.

…

I won’t say I want it, but…

It belongs in this bag. That’s all.

Stirring another pot of tea with water taken from an infinity flask, I quickly gulp it down while hesitating between memories.

Exit cave.

The drowsiness setting in I remember the flames and smell of bile in my throat, I focus in on everything I felt back then, the fear, the pain, the confusion most of all. 

I recognize the sensation now, my body feeling light suddenly I feel my connection disconnect as the darkness in my vision is replaced by a dip in forested land. A rock outcropping on one edge of the gully almost brought tears to my eyes, but I was able to reign in my emotions enough to continue looking around.

Only to come face to face with a scowling mug surrounded by two other, almost comically, ugly figures.

Impossible.

Completely impossible.

But echoing voices confirm my theory.

“Let’s camp here for the night. We don’t want cross the ruins at night without more backup.”

With the voice and mouth matching perfectly, the sheer shock of the coincidence of it all ripped me from the partial dream-state.

Almost cursing aloud in amazement, I simply shake my head instead.

Maybe instead of clamming up, I should have some fun.

Yeah. That seems fitting.

Where’d that voice changer go? I think the third setting was the cool one? Or do I go with a more eerie two?

Ah, if only I could watch them while I’m doing this. That would be the icing on the cake.

Do I wait till morning or…

No, I have to do it tonight, they will have already planned the day tomorrow and won’t be easily maneuvered. If I do it tonight they will discuss it while eating.

Show time.

With the three of them and Ted all separated evenly around the packs where I sat amongst the other luggage, the conditions were perfect.

Rapidly changing the settings I sip from the flask before clearing my throat quietly. “… You four! Are you able to hear me? Are you worthy of my treasure?”

“Who…?” Ted first mutters followed by similar statements from the others.

“You are able to hear me? So there is one of pure heart amongst you? Good. You may be suitable candidates yet.” I loudly continue with the echo booming around them.

 “Candidates for what?” Zeke asks with head glancing in all directions carefully.

“My kingdom lay here many generations ago. As the strongest king my riches were beyond belief, so grand that a magic vault need be made. One as strong as me. So a particular mage offered to connect my soul to the lock. ‘So long as I live the vault would open for no man.’ The magician stated boldly to me. But I now fear he may have tricked me.”

Zeke who still couldn’t find the source of the sounds perked up with the story about magic. The other’s, at the mere word ‘vault’.

“Your soul is trapped here until the vault is opened you mean?” Zeke deciphers from my meager hints.

Good boy.

Let’s continue.

“Indeed. And my own stubbornness won’t allow me to see its riches go to someone wretched in heart.” I continue with a drop in my tone. “Over time my words began to not even fall on evil hearts.”

“Well I suppose since we can…” Charles begins to input, completely dropping the tent stake in favor of the story of treasure.

I thought these people were a bit more intelligent but maybe I was far off.

Interrupting his joy I quickly add the caveat they all feared. “I will nonetheless conduct a proper examination of character with a few simple questions. In order to gauge your chance of swaying to darkness.”

The three now grumbling, and the still silently awestruck Ted patiently awaited my next words.

“Decide amongst yourself if you are willing to take the test. If any of you agree, I will lead you to the vault’s location.”

Now we wait.

“We’ll do it.”

Nevermind, then.

Still they can’t be aware of how far away it is. It would probably be an hour or two by foot. “The path is treacherous, I advise you bring your supplies.”

“TED!” Charles shouts, “Get the stuff packed and catch up to us.”

“Let’s atleast eat first.” Helta moans with an arm clutching her stomach uncomfortably.

“TREASURE!?” Charles again shouts, this time towards Helta’s unmotivated figure.

Helta, rolling her eyes as she plucks a log of sausage from a pack she slipped from Ted’s back, eventually responds, “It’s not going nowhere, right ghost?”

With a long silence Helta begins to waddle back to her makeshift seat amongst the stone rubble of the cave exit.

“Right?” She again repeats after swallowing the bite of sausage.

“Correct.” I affirm, now that I am sure she is far enough away from the bag not to realize my voice’s source.

Ted, who’s back I was now strapped too, leaped a bit when my voice rang out into his ear but it did little more than amuse the three thugs.

 

▐◊▌▐◊▌

 

As the group of four continued walking, and the language of their conversation suddenly flipped I had to struggle to activate the translator in time. But I caught enough to understand the words.

Just where had these three learned demon tongue? And why were they using it to speak behind me and Ted’s back. Literally.

“Obvious he will be the only one who passes.” Helta confirms to Zeke’s comment about the upcoming test. “So, we have him go first. Or we make a fuss about how ‘He’s the best of us so he should do it.’”

“Agreed,” Charles nods with an awkward accent that almost didn’t translate. “Say, you don’t suppose this human king speaks Demonic do you?”

“Why would a human be able to speak Demonic?” Zeke asks with a chuckle.

“You could ask the same question of us.” Charles shrugs.

Unfortunately for you all, there’s no treasure, I’m not a king–or a ghost– and I do speak Demonic.

Sipping tea for the fifth time in order to spot for them. I again enter the dream-like vision.

Bingo.

The torches were a great idea on their part. It makes this almost easy for me.

“Go left.” I announce in a boom. “We are nearly there.”

 With the three growing giddy at the thought they slowly follow Ted through the deep brush and shrubs of the overgrown forest.

Climbing over a multitude of crumbled walls and stone piles they finally reached an area with a more substantial floor. Between cracked tiles of red and black, flowers and ferns seemingly erupted. Even trees were squeezing between the thick cracks to find room to grow. At first glance you might think the plants were amazing for cracking such tremendous stone tiles, then eventually you will realize your foolishness, like I did.

“Wow.” Helta mutters in amazement of the grove.

It’s a correct response, its certainly a fitting resting ground for such a domineering location.

“Is this it?” Charles asks hesitantly as the group came to a stop in the rectangular grove.

“It is.” I affirm simply, luring them to the edge of their seats. “Your first task will be removing the crystallization of cursed mana locking the vault. It should be easy to find, but I advise you be careful about touching it.”

“Crystalized cursed mana?” Zeke asks, again glancing around the area. “What would it look li…”

His pause tells me he has spotted it.

Continuing as if nothing had happened, Zeke changes his question. “How do you remove cursed mana?”

Grinning to myself I offer a few options. “Holy light, or a sprinkling of holy water could work.”

Frowning to himself Charles sulks back out of sight of the other two.

“You could also destroy the mana gem securing the vault. Or short of destroying it, seal it somewhere it can’t influence the outside world.”

Well, you have the pieces. Now, come to papa.

“Once the curse is lifted, I will commence the tests. And then I will instruct you on opening the vault.”

“When the condensed mana is destroyed, won’t your soul be freed? How will you conduct the tests?”

‘Fuck you,’ that’s how. Don’t question my lies.

No, calm down, their dirty mana is infecting me.

“My soul is attached to the vault, the gem is only preventing the opening of it. Once it has been opened my soul will finally be free.”

“Of course.” Charles nods as if my explanation were obvious to him.

Don’t pretend you know how souls work just because you are a church-dude.

Stupid mana.

Alright maybe that one was on me. But he deserves it.

“Is this it?” Helta asks in excitement as she plucks a handful of plants away from the hearts resting place.

“Don’t touch it.” Zeke quickly spits in a flurry of anger. Plucking a patch of leather from his back he carefully lugs the crystal from its crevice in the dirt.

“It’s bigger than I thought.” Helta mutters in amazement when the lanky Zeke eventually rolls it to flat ground. “Anyone have a hammer?”

“NO!” Zeke quickly denies as Charles turns to Ted. “That’s… it won’t break that easily. We need… Hhm…”

“Come on Zeke, you’re the brains on this part. This is your wheelhouse.”

“I don’t study ancient magics. I’ve never even seen a crystal this sized, much less a cursed one.” Zeke cries as he looks over the heart in exasperation. Eventually mumbling to himself he begins to repeat my options. “You really don’t have any holy water on you, Charles?”

“I didn’t expect to need it.” Charles whines with a pitiful expression. “I could bless some, but… I mean…”

“Yeah we all know.” Helta snickers before grinning widely. “Maybe Zeke and I will need to rethink the split to better reflect the effort exerted.”

“Oh and what have you done to help? Pulled a few weeds? Maybe that’s all you are really good for. Working in the weeds…” Charles retorts with his own slimy grin.

“I’ll show you what some weeds can do!” Helta growls plucking a fistful of something grotesque from her jacket pocket. “Here, try a whiff.”

“KNOCK IT OFF!” Zeke shouts without a glance up from the heart.

Is it really going to take this long? I thought he was supposed to be a genius of magic construction, he can’t even decipher a simple riddle.

“I’m trying to think here.” Zeke explains after calming his breathing. “Cut it off…”

“We get it…” Charles mutters with a glance around, as if trying to spot my ghost.

Zeke, shaking his head grows a smile as he turns to look at the two. “No, I mean. That’s it. We cut it off. We just need to bury… No, the mana would still. We don’t have nearly enough leather either… Ah!”

Leaping up, Zeke sprints over to the resting Ted and quickly rips something from his back.

Bingo.

Sprinting back with the hero’s vessel Zeke carefully maneuvers the bags mouth around the gem.

“What are you doing?!” Helta yells in shock with Charles beside her in a similar state. “Didn’t we already decide not to mess with that?!”

“Trust me, it’s the only way.” Zeke explains with a wild look in his eyes as he stuffs the gem further into the bag until it eventually lands comfortably on the awaiting pillow I set for it.

“Well, I suppose if it works.” Charles shrugs with a glance towards Helta’s simmering anger.

“Now what?” Zeke asks gazing around the area for something new.

Indeed, now what?

“Do you believe in the concept of an eye for an eye?” I ask after a long moment of thought. “Or should people turn the other cheek?”

With none of them sure how to answer they eventually land on this being a part of the test.

“I want each of you to answer.” I continue as I begin eyeing the junk left by the countless armor bearers before me. “If you turn the other cheek what’s to stop that person from just repeating the action? Any thoughts?”

“Aggression should be met with aggression. No matter what.” Charles piously states without guilt.

With Zeke and Helta following his position soon after, my decision was solidified.

“So we are in agreement then.” I nod, taking a small stone from the center of an amulet and channeling the bags mana into it excessively. If I’m right, this should only explode once outside the bag, if I’m wrong, well no real harm done.

Juggling the piping hot stone between my hands I carelessly toss it towards the wall.

“Enjoy your treasure.” The three hear as the small stone tumbles between them from the bag in Zeke’s hands.

I expected a loud noise but it wasn’t so satisfying.

“…”

“So I guess you survived Ted? I can still feel your mana. Can you hear me?”

Hesitating in place with mouth agape Ted looks around before landing his eyes on the only scrap of matter remaining from where his owner was once standing.

“Dem…” He mutters halfway before sprinting towards the closest game trail.

Well, his loss, I was going to give him a coin for all the trouble.