The starship returned Magie to the resistance base. No one was left to meet her as everyone seemed to be scrambling around like a bag of cats that had burst open.

Magie caught the attention of a human woman, “pardon me but where is Spiral?”

“The admiral’s preparing for a counter offensive.”

“Where might I find her?”

“The nav chamber’s on the second level but good luck getting her attention. We’re in the middle of a war, for svitch sake!” the woman pushed past Magie and began repairs on a starship. Sparks and welding, that sort of thing. It looked important so Magie decided not to distract her further.

She wandered, searching for an elevator, but halted briefly upon seeing the white feathered wing dragon from the clock tower through an open door panel. His face was buried in some manner of microscope or scientific equipment. The surrounding walls were all stocked in various capsules of plant life.

“Hi!” Magie spouted cheerfully. Now she was old enough to appreciate his kind gesture from before.

The dragon jerked upright, almost bumping his head on a hanging fern, “oh my, what a start! Hello odd human. Why do you look familiar?” he asked, scratching his cheek.

“Yes, that. It’s a bit tricky to explain but I was much younger when last we met. You see, I’m suffering from schism and grow a bit each time I reunite with a shard of my soul,” Magie confessed.

“Fascinating! I’ve never seen schism behave that way before. That would make you the young hatchling I freed from a creeping junjulius plant?” he asked.

“Yes indeed. I’m Magie and I wanted to thank you for sparing me. I know Phallun probably offered to resurrect someone close to you from the ghate but you gave that up for my life. I’m sorry for putting you in a situation where you had to make that choice,” Magie bowed.

“You seem to know a great deal about it. I’m called Mayne and I was a fool to ever trust Phallun in the first place. This war; I’m not designed for it. I’m not a killer and never will be, even for my dear Alouve. Spiral was most gracious to forgive me and offer me a position as genetic botanical engineer for the resistance,” Mayne acknowledged.

“Yes, Spiral… listen, I have to go but am quite glad to finally make your formal acquaintance. Perhaps we’ll meet again,” Magie said.

“Yes, quite,” Mayne returned to his work and Magie left the chamber.

“I can lead you to the navigation room,” Mr. Shade’s shadow formed an arrow on the floor.

“I noticed you were silent during that exchange,” Magie said.

“In life, I owed Mayne a debt of sorts and didn’t want him to recognized me,” Mr. Shade admitted.

“I see,” Magie followed his instructions up a lift and down a long corridor. The halls were flooded with resistance soldiers and droids carrying equipment and the wounded.

She passed through sliding doors into a large dome not unlike a planetarium. A three dimensional holographic map of the universe occupied the center with a balcony surrounding it. Spiral stood on the upper floor and leaned over the rail, marking locations with gestures from her hands and tail. They appeared in lines over the galaxies and nebulae with bits of writing jotted in. She seemed quite busy.

“Magilike! You admirably your mission preformed but I am afraid I have not the time for congratulations nor discussions. I will have Lumoneve line you to TriCora, where the next of your soul shards await,” Spiral glanced at her for but a second.

“Wait, there’s something I must know. What happened to Sheikanna? I was told she resurrected the Heart Of Crystal Order,” Magie tugged on her slick white coat.

Spiral stopped and turned to face her. She licked her index and middle finger and brushed her tail to find a clump of pearl fur, “pardon, I’m shedding. It’s the stress but mind not that. How much do you remember?”

“A delicately small amount. Merely that she married Fabel,” Magie said.

“I see. As leaves do fall. Sheikanna’s intentions were pure but stricken by grief she was driven to madness. The ill fate involved Phallun: the blood king and he was not called so without reason. A demon, he could control and corrupt the very blood that flows through the veins of all living creatures. Sheikanna wished to purge this corruption and the Heart Of Crystal was the surest means. Replacing blood and heart with surreality crystals; it is what the order does. The obsession baited her, battered her, consumed her until she had become the very monster she had sworn to destroy. You called upon me to stop of her and that I did,” Spiral told Magie.

“That’s terrible! But what about Fabel? Why couldn’t he stop her from becoming this monster?” Magie asked.

Spiral fussed with her hair, extracting long strands that caught between her fingers, “that is something you will learn upon composing yourself. I cannot tell you beforehand. Now, please, allow of me to escort you to TriCora. We have a shard of your soul located in the Ashwood Risenfall in Luvega. I have much to do in planning and cannot afford any time further.”

“Alright,” Magie replied.

Spiral produced a sylver sword with a decorative spiraling hole at the tip of the blade. It swept around them like a curtain in the wind and when it unraveled they stood in an entirely different dimension.

“Best of luck to you, sorceress Magilike,” Spiral said as the sylver whisked her away.

 

Magie shuttered and wrapped her velvety cloak around herself tight. A wave of frigid humidity slapped her face like a wet towel. It wasn’t raining but everything felt like it just had: slick, wet and cold.

The ground creaked underneath her feet. She stood on a steep hill, a jigsaw of ruddy and grey bark, cracking and arranged together with dark gaps between the chunks. One piece tumbled into an abyss under her weight, forcing her to jump to another.

The sky had been smeared in dark clouds, spiraling into each other as only seen in TriCora, and leafless trees protruded strait up from the depths. The hill stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions, broken only by a fort-like structure.

Magie approached it; a woodwork of narrow platforms, held aloft by poles, planks and cogs. Waterwheels and shanty shacks made it appear almost like a village. But it was abandoned. This must be the temple. Sticky sap oozed from the boards as if the wood used to construct it had never died. A sweet glint in a world marked only by fresh rain.

She walked up a spiraling staircase with a hollow bonk marking each step. The pitch raised as she traversed higher and the steps grew smaller. As she neared the top a familiar yet somewhat unsettling smile greeted her.

“Moonflower, Magie, can it be you? You’ve blossomed quite well from the girl I knew but a few days ago,” Iza Adle sat on a ledge, kicking her boot in the air. The doll wore a white dress under a black raincoat, hat and veil, almost poetically.

“Iza! Well you see I- it’s just-” Magie stuttered in attempt to explain her odd growth spurts.

“It’s alright; any secret you have is safe with me,” Iza beamed, smiling wider.

Magie sighed, “the truth is my soul was split into shards; that’s what I’ve been collecting. I grow a little and regain a bit of my memories with each piece I find. I’m the sorceress Magilike Eizinhairess.”

“Yes, I know that. Have for quite some time. Let’s face it, Moonflower, you’re about as subtle with your powers as an ember hog in hot embers on a summer’s day.

I take it your encounter with Phallun didn’t go as planned. Looking for a little vengeance? Not to worry; so am I. I will rake his blood across all Evnyance, then we’ll see who the worm is,” Iza’s voice fell very sour for but a moment then back to her usual cloying tone, “alas, what either of us are searching for cannot be found here. The vault’s been emptied: spirited away on serpent wings but worry not- I know where they’ve taken its contents.”

“Where?” Mr. Shade asked.

“The Devil’s Maw. An impenetrable fortress on the highest peak of the Almonic Peninsula and from there Phallun’s armies can control the weather for the entire coast. A strategic point at its most prolific. I’ve struck a deal with the Luvegan resistance forces. Should you be able to sever that control, they’ll launch a full assault on the base. You need only sneak in and destroy the nightmare doing it,” Iza said.

“And what did you get out of this little deal?” Mr. Shade asked.

“A mere trinket from the vault, same as always. Oh, by the by, I should warn you the commander of the Maw is a powerful demon with a notoriously short fuse. Quick to anger, swift to kill although she doesn’t always show such mercy. Best avoided, truly. But don’t fret; I have complete and utter faith in you Moonflower. Follow me and I’ll lay the land to all that,” Iza assured her.

“Okay,” Magie said.

“Marvelous! Right this way and watch your step; the Rizenfall tumbles into a darkness better left unexplored, if at all possible,” Iza began to scale the hill, stepping on various chunks of bark with a wet crunch.

Magie followed; it wasn’t easy. The hill was steep and the bark slick. Several times, she had to alter her steps as a piece would snap and fall. It felt like walking on eggshells.

The sensation didn’t last long as the Rizenfall ended gradually to mossy rocks and solid ground. Trees began to pop up, ones with bright green leaves the shape of stars, and plants growing in density until they reached an oddly cold rain forest.

The terrain remained steep and they continued to climb in elevation. Trees with pine green needles more suited to a taiga forest became sprinkled in with the others and snow began to fall. Magie wondered how such a variety of biomes could intermingle then almost stumbled head first into her answer: streams of scorching lava flowed across the mountain range.

The tropical flora fed off the intense heat from the lava then swiftly shifted to the variety of colder climates after a distance of about five meters. The entire range appeared to feature these volcanic vents. This presented the unique problem of navigating the natural labyrinth of deep snow, thick jungle and molten rock. Magie wanted to walk the canopy but Iza suggested against it.

“Look here,” she climbed up a tree at a hill’s apex and pulled the branches apart.

Magie followed and peered out. She could see a great expanse of mountains the like of which they’d been traversing. On the highest peak stood a crooked castle, dark stone and cadmium shingles, very much what one would expect of Phallun’s forces. Atop its highest tower a giant shadowy mouth with thick red lips floated in the sky. It gaped wide and a long tongue covered in eyeballs slithered from its depths. Where they glared, blizzards rolled out.

“That’s the Devil’s Maw. Doesn’t leave much to the imagination, doesn’t it? I suggest we make camp here, without a fire. The surrounding area is well guarded. Any closer and we risk getting picked up by one of many patrols. You can get an early start in the morning,” Iza said, unpacking a bag procured from the ghost’s mouth.

“Me? You’re not coming?” Magie asked.

“No, sadly my allergies are acting up. Achoo! There, you see? I won’t be much good to you but you’ll be in my thoughts and prayers. Yes, thoughts and prayers. With your abilities, I’m sure it will be a cakewalk,” Iza patted her face, or rather the doll’s face, with a white handkerchief.

‘Prayers, huh? Fat haul of good that’ll do,’ Mr. Shade thought to himself.

“Fine; leave this to me. There are a good jumble of animals I’m eager to become and I’ve remembered more spells,” Magie agreed.

They set up tents near a lava vent but not so near as to be a cause for concern. Iza was as resourceful as ever with everything they needed for the journey. She fried up a slab of meat and blueish grains by holding a pan tied to a long stick over the heat. The sun was falling but their camp was illuminated by the bubbly orange lava.

“We ought to still be careful but it is unlikely we’ll be spotted this far out. This week’s a long festival in Evnyance dedicated to Halika, which is sure to soften security. Such ridiculous nonsense with these fake holidays,” Iza said.

“Wait, what makes it a fake holiday?” Mr. Shade asked.

“Foranga’s the one true god. The sooner people wise up and accept that the better.”

“Halika’s an Ogigah, the same as Foranga. Lets suppose for a minute that they weren’t destroyed in the convergence -which they were- why would Foranga matter and not Halika?” Mr. Shade questioned with sharp intent.

“Why, the worship of Foranga has taken place for over thirty thousand years. There are sixty seven trillion followers across the universe. The goddess even has her sacred Emerald Galaxy as proof of her divinity. There’s simply no comparing worship of Halika to Foranga,” Iza stated in a self righteous tone. Or perhaps it was her usual tone, they were easily confused.

“Halika and Foranga are very comparable. The church of blue dates back thirty five thousand years, eighty four trillion followers, and Halika had her own solar system before Oth took it over. You’re claiming one religion over another when they essentially share the same traits,” Mr. Shade argued.

“Halika’s so called miracles are nothing compared to the true acts of Foranga,” Iza boomed.

“That’s another thing: you treat the Ogigah like some wish granting genies when they’ve never been scientifically proven to do any of that. There have been studies and praying to the Ogigah had no influence on the outcome of curing illness, influence probabilities or even changing an Ogigah’s behavior in the slightest. Foranga does not do what you want her to do just because you prayed to her,” Mr. Shade went on.

“And you’re saying Halika does?” Iza asked.

“No. I’m saying why should your religion be any less “ridiculous” than anyone else’s?” he finished.

“Well, I never! I can see it a waste of breath to discuss such matters with you!” Iza scoffed.

“I think,” Magie began but put her hand to her mouth.

“Yes?” Mr. Shade asked.

“Oh, never mind.”

“Come on, out with it,” he said.

“I think when it comes to religion, or non religion, both sides can be right,” Magie said.

“Oh pick a side!” Iza exclaimed.

“And that’s a great way to get everyone to hate you,” Mr. Shade remarked.

“Well, that’s what I think. I’m turning in for the night. Animals are early risers and I want to be off before the sun’s up,” Magie climbed into her tent.

 

It wasn’t long before she found herself dreaming, or at least she though she was. The escapades of Evnyance and celestial beasts were like dreams in themselves. But Magie was confident this time.

She glanced at her hand: an impalpable, shifting thing unable to hold its form. That way she knew.

She recognized Wadt’ark around her. The scenery of spring green shoots growing up at right angles, the wide river, orange sky. Or was it a blue and mint green patchwork? Perhaps she was in TriCora. Truly, it had little significance and true of all her dreams of late, it began to melt into that dark place; a scuttling, static anxiety.

A pure white moon rose, throbbing with a blood red corona. Green vines, rosy flowers and thorns blossomed around it. She recognized them. The signs. The moon of Oth and the Emerald Galaxy of Foranga. Time and again, but why?

“I’m dreaming. This is where my dream becomes a nightmare,” she told herself.

A buzzing filled the sky. Sparking clouds crested the horizon. Great swarms of insects, larger than she, rolled across the uncertain plane, blotting out the sun. Saciya- wasp like creatures with six glowing electric wings, four abdomens and stingers. Their hides bore teal and forest green strips over jet black scales.

“No. This is a dream; it isn’t real. This is a dream; it isn’t real!” Magie repeated.

A Raydaytion city trembled around her. Honeycomb towers and hives of starlythium fell. The swarms descended, literally eating their way through any and every obstacle. Bugs fighting bugs but only one side was sentient. There was terror. She could see it, smell it, feel it. Fires, smoke, screams, heat. The Raydaytion donned starfighters and scorpion-like combat mechs but were outnumbered, overwhelmed and devoured. The hard mechanical hulls dissolved quickly in the Saciya’s acidic saliva.

Magie began to panic; she took off running. A dream, yes, but this really happened. Foranga sent her swarms leaving endless fields of phaseforoxxine blossoms in their wake. Sure enough, as she looked around, the ghostly red flowers grew off the corpses and drank strong the carnage of war. A grim reminder of why the Ogigah were worshiped: they were feared.

The Saciya gained and she was running out of ground. A brier patch of meter long thorns, vines and flowers spanned before her. Silver fur flowed from her exposed skin and she assumed silvermane form for faster traversal.

“I know this is a dream; they can’t hurt me!” Magie panted to herself but it felt so horrifically real. The buzz of their many wings droned just behind her line of sight.

She scoured the thorny tangle, leaping over vines and crawling under arches. Fires blazed around her. The heat licked her hide like sharp, serrated tongues.

 

“Magie stop!”

She opened her eyes. Magie teetered on a branch overlooking a gushing river of lava. The momentum was too much and she tumbled off but instinctively caught hold with her tail. There she hung, meters away from being cooked like a holiday giblybird.

“You transformed and climbed about in your sleep. You’re not out of the red yet though; a patrol spotted the commotion and is coming to investigate,” Mr. Shade informed her.

“No trouble; I can transform into a bug or something,” Magie said, swinging back onto the branch.

“Not an option. They’re packing scanners which can detect shifts in signature energy. Our best bet is to make a run for it.”

“I can take them. I’ve regained some of my old wartime tricks,” she shifted back to human form and summoned her scythe.

“Are you sure? If they call for backup this will get ugly real fast,” he said.

“Trust me,” Magie tossed an orb of energy into the air. It burst into a dusting of shimmering sparks.

Phallun’s soldiers plowed their way through the trees. Various races, about eight in number, they wore white and green camo to blend into the snowy jungle.

One attempted to call out on his com but the sparks in the air disrupted the signal. Only static answered back. Others opened tiny caskets towards her and nightmares poured out.

These were blood red hydras with many twisting necks and needle sharp mouths. Magie sliced through head after head only for them to grow instantly back.

She felt the signature energy within her and focused it into her muscles, giving her behemoth strength. Magie liked being strong and, more than she was willing to admit to Mr. Shade, relished the battle.

The soldiers tried to pick her off with lasers during the scramble. Magie naturally cast a shield to defend against them. As was often the case in TriCoran battles, ranged offensives were nullified forcing close arms combat and Magie excelled at that.

A hydra head lunged at her arm but she dodged backward briefly shifting into a cat then sprung to counter in human form. She could effortlessly transition from one animal to another in the heat of battle. Attacking the nightmares directly was futile but Magie knew how to deal with them. She swung her scythe low on a horizontal plane, catching the blade in the ground and used the momentum to carry her body under the nightmare. From there she kicked the box, from which it had emerged, out of the guard’s hand and into the lava. The nightmare vanished in smoke, just like before.

A man of stone clumsily brandished an energy scimitar with an off balanced swing but Magie froze the ground beneath him and he slid into the lava as well. Her pupils opened to x shapes with each kill. No longer the helpless girl, she felt sleek and attuned to the rhythm of battle. Although she was but a fragment, parts of her remembered. Her muscles, killer instinct, reflexes all acting as they had countless times before.

Another guard approached, this once wove of yarn and she set him ablaze. His box toppled to the ground and the lid clanked shut, ending the threat of his nightmare. She sliced her way through two more men with ease before facing a dragon in black machanakun armor.

True to the might of her species, the dragon proved stronger, faster, and not a mere rag puppet to be cleaved through. She fought with her long bladed tail and a halberd in her hands. Magie parried one blade, flipped over the other and kicked her square in the face.

The remaining guards watched in worry as what was obviously their best warrior faced off against the young sorceress. The dragon reserved no pride in calling them out, “help me you idiots!”

They closed in, hoping to surprise Magie from behind. The odds were starting to sour now that they worked together. Magie dodged this and slashed that but the numbers frowned upon her. In a last ditch she sung a mighty note at the mountainside. The peak shook and crumbled; loosely packed snow broke off in waves and cascaded down in a rumbling avalanche. Magie climbed to the tip of a tree and held on for her life as the white rushed forth. The guards were washed away, carried with it into a river of lava. It ended with a great geyser of steam spewing up like an enormous kettle.

The static in the air cleared and Magie heard a voice, “cinnamon team come in! We’ve had com silence for the past two minutes. Report; what happened?”

She dug a corpse out of the fresh felled snow and with it a smart chip, the kind the fit behind the ear. Magie placed her hand on the neck and shifted her vocal cords to match. She answered the call with the dead guard’s gravelly voice, “hello, cinnamon team (what the oth?), yes cinnamon team reporting. Were, uh, fine. Yes fine. How about this weather?”

“What’s wrong with you soldier? Why couldn’t we reach you?!” the voice on the com demanded.

“Avalanche,” Mr. Shade said.

“Yes, uh, there was an avalanche but we’re um...” Magie reported, mind racing.

“Digging the team out,” Mr. Shade said.

“Right, we’re digging the team out now,” Magie repeated.

“Do you need assistance?”

“No! I mean nooo, we’re good; just leave us alone for a while.”

“Affirmative, check back in fifteen. Out!” the voice on the com cut off.

“That was close,” Magie said in her usual energetic voice.

“Cinnamon team? What’s that about?” Mr. Shade asked.

“I know!” Magie exclaimed. She began to walk away but paused for a moment, recalling the battle, “I could feel those soldiers’ souls passing through the ghate. It’s not like that with nightmares. Should I ...feel bad about killing them?”

“This is war, I’m afraid. Killing’s a necessary evil. The nightmares don’t have souls so you didn’t have to deal with it before. Try to stay focused on the task ahead,” Mr. Shade told her.

“Okay.”

Magie cut her shin when passing a foul smelling flower with buzz saw petals. The forest was a dense, diverse and dangerous place even without Phallun’s troops. Memories gushed back to her, from childhood. Fabel had taken her here, to Luvega. When she stepped on a thorn he found a vanilla mushroom and smeared cream from it on the wound. Magie looked around. She located such a mushroom and did the same.

“A little dab and a smear and we’re all done here,” she repeated the words Fabel had said to her at the time. She was often with him. In the past, the people of TriCora were not accepting of the sciences. They even feared them. The other children shunned her, teased her. Once they pushed her down in a puddle of mud, another time hurled rocks her way. But that was okay because Fabel was always there for her. He wanted her to learn and grow regardless of what other people thought. How long ago was that? It must have been hundreds of years! Magie shook her head. She missed him but now was no time for reminiscing.

She took a few minutes to analyze the local fauna. It was her best bet to blend in and avoid further patrols. In the midst, brightly colored fire crackers shrieked into the sky and exploded.

“Svitch, what’s that?” Mr. Shade asked.

“Oh don’t worry about those. The trees by the lava drop them naturally, then in the molten heat they alight and explode in the sky spreading their seeds. Cracker pods, we called them,” Magie explained.

“I see.”

“Hey look at that,” Magie snuck over to a bluish crystal protruding from the lava. It stained the flow downstream in a wavy smear of blues and violets. Little lizards crawled on top of it. Sharing the color of the crystal, they had two front legs but only a finned tail in the back. Long tongues licked their bodies in a coating of mucus before they hopped in the lava for a swim.

“Interesting, they’ve adapted a way to withstand the intense heat,” Mr. Shade observed.

“And our way up the volcano into the base,” Magie added, picking one up. Her body shrank as scales flowed over her skin and clothes. She flopped onto the crystal in the form of one of the lizards and began to lick a viscus film over her body.

‘Eww, it’s so weird having a tongue this long. It’s hard to control; so much more flexible than a human’s. Like a trunk,’ Magie thought.

“Listen, I got captured once and don’t plan to again. As a spirit, I’m weak to the pull of certain forces like that lantern. If you get caught, I’m going to hide and not be able to talk to you for a while but I’ll be searching for a way to set you free,” Mr. Shade told her.

‘Understood but I don’t plan on getting caught,’ Magie thought, diving into the lava.

“No one does,” he replied.

Magie moved ahead. The sensation felt strange, akin to swimming through a thick vat of porridge. Instinctively she shrieked and the sound waves reverberated back to her, painting a sort of map in her mind. A pulse of images of the surrounding terrain. Echolocation. Makes sense as the lava was thickly opaque and there’s no seeing through that.

Soon she began to feel warm, then hot, then almost burning forcing her to crawl onto the bank. Her mucus film had worn off and it was time to apply another coat. She looked around; not four meters away rested the crystal where she started.

‘Oh damn it; this will take forever!’ Magie moaned.

“We could try another animal but there’s no way to fly over the canopy with that nightmare watching. Magie? What are you doing with that cracker pod?” Mr. Shade asked.

Magie had stuck a pod to her tongue and was dragging it over to the lava. She clung tight to it with her tiny fingers and rolled in. The pod trembled violently before bursting into a brightly colored trail, shooting her up into the sky.

Her lizard body was flung above the trees, spinning out of control, and landed in a branch a hundred meters away.

Magie laughed in her head, ‘that was some ride!’

‘Watch out a patrol’s coming,’ Mr. Shade warned.

Another soldier, carrying a casket, tromped over to the shaking tree. He opened it and a red nightmare burst forth, this one with a hound’s body and three heads; a Cerberus. It roared and clawed at the trunk, tearing scraps of bark off. Magie felt herself slipping. Her current body was built for swimming, not climbing and furthermore could be swallowed whole by the beast. Something told her to stay still and her skin changed green to match the color of the leaves. That didn’t detour the nightmare though.

The guard peered up in the tree. Finding nothing, he dismissed it with a “bah” and closed the box, causing the nightmare to disappear. He walked away.

‘That was close,’ Magie thought, transforming back into a human.

“These nightmares are called Redders. Specially engineered with extra sensory organs ideal for patrolling. They’ll sniff you out real fast. Be especially careful,” Mr. Shade said.

Magie discovered a small, brightly colored bird flitting about the understory. She leaped and caught it with supersonic reflexes and proceed to transform. Yes, this body was much better suited to partake in the journey.

She believed that for the better part of half an hour until forced to hide from a roaming pack of redders- all blood red horrors. One a serpent, its long, multi-tipped tongue flicked the air. Almost instantly it was scaling the tree after her. Magie flew to the next but its hood unfurled long fingers with flaps of translucent skin and glided relentlessly after her.

‘Why is it chasing me if I’m a bird?’ Magie asked, dodging and dipping. The nightmare’s jawbone unhinged to reveal a mouth full of tiny arms and hands, grasping at her.

“They must be tasked to eliminate all fauna. I don’t think going forth as an animal will work,” Mr. Shade told her.

‘Yes it will, we just need the right one,’ Magie said. She flipped down, dive kicking one of the redders with a midair transformation. Another lunged but Magie cleaved it in twain with her scythe.

She remembered a trick; astral solidification. The inside of her cloak shinned with patterns of the night’s sky and she molded astral energy into solid objects. Tables, chairs, lamps, all glowing with stars and galaxies. She crafted various furniture to shield herself, only having limited control of what she could create.

A redder slashed at her. Magie formed an astral sofa and crashed it down upon the monster. The serpent from before caught her neck in its mouth full of arms and Magie was forced to transform into a mimicfly to escape its choke hold. She flashed back as a human and sliced it apart.

The pack was thinning but she needed one alive. She formed an astral cage around the final redder. With a lion’s body but mane and tail of snake heads, it bit at the cage from all angles. She couldn’t hold it long, nor did she have to. Magie carefully reached through the bars only to pull her hand away from the vicious onslaught. It was scary, literally reaching into a snake’s den but she had to do it. She caught one snake by the neck and absorbed its signature. The fiend’s purpose fulfilled, she levitated the cage into the lava.

“If I’m to infiltrate the base, I’m going to have to become a nightmare myself,” Magie said. She began to transform but this time was different. Snakes erupted from her hair and blood rushed over her, staining her skin, her muscles bulged and bones disfigured, cracking, bending. She roared from the agony, now transformed into a mighty beast.

The malice though, the fury and insatiable thirst for blood! Magie snarled and sniffed around, finding the scent of fresh meat. She bounded off to hunt.

“Magie, the base is the other way,” Mr. Shade said.

“I smell human and I’m going to rip the marrow from their bones!” Magie growled in a deep and fearsome voice.

“That’s your own scent from before! Magie stop! You have to get control of yourself!” Mr. Shade warned.

“Blood and carnage! All must be slaughtered; all must die!” she clamped a tree in her mighty jaws and torn it down in one fell shake of the head. Her senses were on fire. The aroma of live prey created a trail in her mind. She could see heat and movement, taste fear and hear every beat of wing or snap of twig in a wide area.

“Magie, remember Fabel! Remember who you are; you’re Magilike Eizinhairess!” Mr. Shade pleaded.

“Fabel? Yes, no, I-”

“He’s your brother and you plan to search for him. You’re not a nightmare. You must regain control.”

“Fabel, yes I remember. It’s this body. Blood, everywhere. I need it! I have this overwhelming lust for blood.”

“Remember, you’re on a mission. You must find the shard of your soul in the fortress ahead.”

“Okay. I’m in control. Thank you,” Magie turned and ascended the mountain. Although steep and dense with snow and jungle, her powerful body found no struggle in scaling it.

She had to focus to retain control. Every slight whisper of life sent her into an unbridled rage. As a nightmare she had one purpose: to cause as much carnage as possible.

She noted the snake heads acted independently. She could not see from their eyes nor control them. She was however aware of any life they detected as it sent a twinge down her spine, like an itch, a need to snuff out the primordial flame.

“Watch out; there’s a patrol squad with more nightmares to your left,” Mr. Shade advised, his shadow matched her new body on the freshly fallen snow.

“I can’t see them,” Magie looked and sniffed but to no avail. The foliage appeared calm in all aspects.

“That’s interesting. Nightmares must be unable to detect Phallun’s own soldiers or each other so not to attack allies. That’s definitely something we can use in the future,” he surmised.

With great vigor, Magie continued up. She passed multitudes of forests, glaciers and vents of steam where the snow melted into the lava. Flowers, mushrooms, ferns and trees of all shapes and sizes. If not in the midst of war, the landscape would have appeared quite beautiful. An iced tea on a hot day.

Overhead a snowy hurricane whipped around. Although still on the ground, the air was consumed by this mighty and unnatural storm for several kilometers with the fortress resting in the eye. Their control of the weather effectively quelled any attempt at an aerial assault.

She struggled against the wind. Soon Magie found herself at the towering stone walls of her destination. Although medieval in appearance, Phallun’s structures were sound and able to withstand any battery modern buildings could. He certainly appreciated the theme though as most in his dominion took on a castle or temple aesthetic. This featured great ramparts and towers, both crooked and unyielding.

“How do I go about entering?” Magie asked. Windows were present but high and gushing with guns.

“I could phase us through walls. It doesn’t help in this case as the guards inside would spot you appearing but perhaps I can find someway to open a gate from the inside,” Mr. Shade said.

“As a nightmare, shouldn’t they let me in?”

“No, nightmares are strictly weapons with a single purpose. They’re used until they’re extinguished then others take their place. You’re better off transforming into something small out of the range of their scanners then hitching a ride on a returning patrol.”

“Understood. I know just the animal,” Magie shrank to the size of a coin. Her fearsome red coat was replaced with plush indigo fur, the snakes shriveled and dissolved, big beady eyes engrossed her head and she took on a much less intimidating appearance. When finished she’d become the small mouse-like creature from the Consumed Etropolis in stark contrast to what she was before.

“Squeak, squeak, chitter, chitter,” Magie tried to talk before remembering she couldn’t in her present form.

‘I’m glad to be out of that nightmare body. It felt unnatural, disturbing even. I’d prefer to avoid their forms if at all possible,’ she thought.

She hopped over and waited by a gate until several soldiers could be seen returning to base. From there, clinging to one’s pant leg and crawling into his pack was a simple matter. After a brief briefing with the guard on duty they entered the fortress.

 

The inside was brilliant with dancing torches and a roaring hearth. Very medieval, pelts and mounted heads of various dangerous animals lined the walls. Here equipment was stashed, vehicles parked and soldiers found entering or exiting active duty. A scanner presented an obstacle, forcing Magie to abandon her ride before the soldier had a chance to enter it.

Everyone and everything appeared so big. She was a mere crumb, a speck of sand in a land of giants tromping around. She flitted across the chamber. Massive boots and treads barely missed stomping her on several occasions. At least there were no nightmares inside. Magie hopped onto a hovercart of laundry and rode deeper into the base.

‘This looks important,’ she thought hopping to a room lined with holoscreens. Carefully observing the area with multiple senses, she determined it empty and transformed back into a human to access them.

“It’s risky being a human here,” Mr. Shade warned.

“I want to locate the weather controlling nightmare. Perhaps some gleaming can be found on these screens. If you’re so worried, be a lookout,” Magie said, tapping at a holographic keyboard.

“Svitch!” Mr. Shade exclaimed as an oddly dressed ogre wandered the room. He loomed tall with green skin and tusks but wore a jacket and tie too small for his stature. Furthermore he had thick glasses, shorts and open toed sandals. Magie drew her scythe to his neck.

“Wait, make away with your weapon! I’m no warrior; I’m an accountant!” the ogre cried.

“An accountant?” Magie puzzled, slightly relaxing her grip.

“Oh Aye! Surely this ogre must be a soldier or laborer, you say! Well let me tell you lass, ogres can be accountants too. Look at me: what do I aim to do, strangle you with my tie? Bash your head in with my briefcase?” the ogre grumbled.

“Why would this base need an accountant?” Mr. Shade asked.

“Why?! Why would they need an accountant?! Old Glorbar, the accountant, what’s he do here? Only keep this whole operation running, that’s what! There are expenses, budgets to analyze, salaries to pay! What do you think happens when it’s time to deduct taxes to our lord and emperor, we stab the forms with daggers all willy nilly?” Glorbar ranted.

“I think you should kill him before he calls the guards,” Mr. Shade said.

“Yeah, but he’s just an accountant,” Magie argued.

“An evil accountant! He works for a force of universe wide genocide! We don’t have time to debate this,” Mr. Shade returned fire.

“Hey, are you an evil accountant?” Magie asked.

“Evil, she says! Just because Glorbar suggested we replace the fiber mesh in the guards’ vests with molasses don’t make him evil. What are the odds of them being shot at? Nightmares handle it all, don’t they? And if they are going to be shot it’s in the face anyway, am I right? We’ve a surplus of molasses after some damn fool (not me) mistakenly ordered a bulk too many. That’s not evil; that’s risk analysis!” Glorbar raved.

“See? He’s evil, although admittedly fiscally sound in logic. We can’t let him summon the guards,” Mr. Shade told her. Her shadow crossed arms on the wall.

“I don’t know. This seems like kind of a grey area between immoral and evil. I don’t want to kill anyone who’s not evil,” Magie replied.

“Do you have some sort of spell to incapacitate him then?”

“You’d think I would. It really sounds like something I should know, but I can’t remember.”

“Too late, they come!” Mr. Shade warned as a squad of armed guards rushed in. Magie fought but was quickly outnumbered and restrained.

They secured a mechanical collar to her neck. A wicked thing with spikes, steel, and flashing red lights. When she tried to use signature energy to transform, it activated and abolished the effect. She could feel her power fizzle out into the collar.

‘I’ll find a way to get you out. Stall them. Whatever you do, don’t let them contact the Weaver!’ Mr. Shade thought to Magie and retreated to the unknown.

Magie was dragged away and tossed into a small decrepit cell. Here they shackled and chained her to the wall. An easily escapable situation if only she wasn’t wearing the collar.

“Hey, be careful, would you? What do you plan to do with me?” Magie asked, responding to the rough treatment.

“We ought to kill you now. There’s no use in keeping a spy around,” a guard said.

“Wait, you can’t kill me. I’m here to audit the molasses surplus,” Magie told them.

“She’s lying!” Another guard spoke up.

“But how could she know about the surplus? That has been a major issue and if the boss finds out we killed an auditor, she’ll string us up like puppets! Alright. We’ll inform the boss about you. You better pray you’re telling the truth, girl,” the first guard replied and walked away.

“You’ll see,” Magie shouted back at him. “We’ve got expenses to cut, budgets to debudgetize, risks to analyze! ...And he’s gone.”

She squirmed around in her cell. Solid stone flickering in the dim torchlight. Not much leeway to move; the chains held tight. Not much to see either: a dark, dank and damp chamber barred off and buried deep beneath the base.

“Mr. Shade, are you there?” she asked. No answer.

Magie decided the best course of action would be to free herself before the commander got wind of her. But how? She couldn’t use magic and what else did she have?

She thought back, trying to remember her military training. Damn schism! She only got scraps and pieces of it. Something about lock picking. Unlike the collar, the chains were laughably primitive, as was the cell its self. Sturdy though. She’d need a pick. Her hairpin! If only she’d worn hairpins! Damn. She always thought of them as useless excesses of vanity like makeup and other girly stuff. The bracelet was nice however. For some uncharacteristic reason she liked that from the start. Maybe Mr. Shade was right and she should have paid for it.

She kicked her legs uneasily. Her arms were bound tight. What a situation. One thing they mention in books or movies about incarceration is the overwhelming boredom. It was Magie’s Achilles' heel. She thought about a song her parents sung to her long, long ago. Fabel had continue to sing it to her when they were “whisked away by the midnight winds” as he told it. How had they died, really? Oh well. She began to sing: “A tower on the tundra under the northern lights. Once every summer I drop by my aunty Sky. Aloft a light mare marching a parade. A chariot in chain and rainbows in spades. Hop from the highs; I've got something for ya. Hey little Bumba, how I adore ya. The chariot, the turret, the tour of the world.

 

With white winds we're off again, whistling through the cirrus. Lightning droves and laughing doves are all who can hear us. The sea smiles sleepily as sun crests the crown. The chariot, the turret, the tour of the world.

 

Mountains monsters and ladles stir lakes of pink trees. Honeycombs, pine needle brushes, and thrushes who sneeze. Restin' on the Rompa Range for lemon tea. The chariot, the turret, the tour of the world.

 

Should the rain rage and seams stress from cymbal's song. And dark roll the tablecloth of wheat and lanes long. Should the lattice stain the grain with ages in aura, Sky sings above the boom: how I adore ya. The chariot, the turret, the tour of the world.

 

The deserts of dumplings, stream pumps and spice. Prickly pear trees and gold grains of rice. A fox on the prowl, a proud plaid print cowl. The chariot, the turret, the tour of the world.

 

Wogle De Aqua, the city of stripes; stepping all night with diamonds in their eyes. Drums roar the dance floor as we fly by. The chariot, the turret, the tour of the world.

 

Silver stars stream the dream as we drive home. The day went to town, the moon in the phone. Hey little Bumba, how I adore ya.

The chariot. The turret.

 

...The tour of the world.”

Applause could be heard, a quick clapping coming from the returning guard, “bravo, but I’m afraid that’s the last song you’ll ever sing. The commander wants to see you personally.”

“Could you be any more of a villain?” she asked.

He pulled Magie up and unchained her. He wielded a long halberd with an energy blade and prodded her in the back to get moving. She could feel the hotness poking through her cloak and hurried along. One good thrust could pierce her like a knife through warm butter.

Another guard walked in front to guide her. She followed him through a series of corridors, rooms lined with machanakun, a messy mess hall, and into a private dining room. Furs and trophies crowded the walls. She had time to analyze them now. It made Magie’s stomach churn; who could do this to the poor animals? It’s unthinkable. Many of them were endangered and illegal to hunt.

She was stopped before a long table, covered in fine reventhread cloth, where the officers dined. At the far end a peculiar woman sat surrounded by men. She wore a sharply spiked bronze crown, tunic of red and gold and had a scar across her left cheek. More remarkably, several floating chains of clockwork silver extended from where her arms ought to be. They glowed jade and shined translucent in the fire light. Keys dangled from them and two of the chains were inserted in the backs of the men, who were cutting and feeding her meal to her.

“Commander, the auditor,” the guard informed her.

“You clods! That’s no auditor; it’s that sorceress we were warned might come. Oh gods damn it, what’s her name? Margret, Mehan?” the commander said. She sounded young, barely an adult with a relatively high pitched voice; squawking like some manner of waterfowl. Magie wondered how she came into such a prestigious position at that age.

“Magilike Eizinhairess,” Magie said.

“That’s it. Well svitch. I’m supposed to call the Weaver about you. Ugh, I hate her. And you guards; how stupid are you? Wasting my time. Prepare to be tossed in the gingerbread men pit over this!” the commander bellowed.

“No, not the gingerbread men pit!” the men cried in horror. Magie giggled.

“What’s so funny?” the commander asked.

“Nothing scary ever came from something involving gingerbread men,” Magie replied.

“No, it’s terrifying! Taking something wholesome from childhood and turning them into flesh eating monsters! You don’t know!” she shot one of her chains into the back of the guard near Magie. His eyes glowed jade and he moved like a puppet to backhand her hard.

Another guard told Magie, “this is Mary Dumplin, the phantom chains and you’ll do well to watch your tongue in her presence!”

Magie thought back to what Iza had told her about the commander having a short fuse. She had to buy some time and keep her from contacting the Weaver.

“Dumplin?” she laughed. “What kind of name is that? Aren’t commanders supposed to have serious, intimidating names?”

“Silence!” Mary yanked her chains out of the soldiers and they collapsed to the floor, unconscious. She used them like spider legs to carry herself across the table to Magie, stepping on everyone’s plate without regard. “I’ll see you slit your own throat!”

She levitated a key and jabbed it into Magie but a magical force prevented it from entering her. Even with the collar on, Magie projected a natural shield from such possession.

“If it was “Dumpling” it would be less comical but “Dumplin”? You can’t expect to scare anyone with a name like that,” Magie beamed.

Mary whipped her with a chain, knocking her to the floor, “why isn’t this working? Well, Oth. No matter. I have something better in mind. Take her to the zoo!”

“Zoo, really? What’s next, an evil ice cream stand, Dumplin?” Magie mocked her but truthfully, she was in a great deal of pain. The chain had left a long welt across her face.

Magie was carried up stairs and onto the roof where a vast menagerie of caged animals waited. Large beasts from across all TriCora. They winced and cowered at the sight of Mary Dumplin.

Magie noticed the weather controlling nightmare on top a tower nearby. If she could only reach it.

“Get out of here!” Mary ordered the guards. She whipped Magie again with her chains. “I’m dreaded! I’m the most feared warrior in the chained kingdom! I refuse to apologize for hailing from a proud line of bakers!”

Mary’s chains moved like tentacles to the keyhole of a particular cage. They clanked and swerved to unlock it and reveal a gigantic blue reptile, six meters long. It featured an alligator like mouth of razor sharp teeth but longer, running half the length of its body. The cruel, glowing key inserted into its hide and took control of it.

Magie sprung out of the way of its terrible jaws. Although her hands were bound and without magic, she was still incredible fast and agile. She dodged, up a kiosk, and again down the far side.

Mary opened another cage, this one with a metal beaked bird of sorts. It moved like a raptor on two powerful legs with stubby, flightless wings and a long tensile tongue. Frightened, it ran. Her chains chased it around the cage and inserted a key in its back, wrenching control of it as well.

Magie back flipped on top a cage and ran the length of it. The bird followed and knocked her off with a swift peck that drew blood. It could run and leap fast, faster than she. Magie nearly landed in the jaws of the reptile waiting below but did the splits, catching her legs between its gaping maw and sprang out.

“I’m going to grind you into pepperoni and use you to top my pizza!” Mary shrieked in rage.

“Pizza, really? You’re making this too easy for me! You can’t use pizza in a threat; it just doesn’t work!” Magie yelled back at her. “Please, I’m going to die of laughter!”

“Oh! I’ll kill you!”

“That’s better,” Magie taunted but in all honesty, she was quite fearful. She couldn’t keep this up for long. The beasts and Mary’s chains were cutting close and sharp. One wrong move and she really would wind up as sliced sausage.

Down she slid, between the bars of a cage and out the far side. The larger beasts were forced to maneuver around it. This gave Magie a split second to catch her breath but not long enough. She took off again as they approached in a pincer attack.

Magie was pinned against a row of iron bars. The beasts lunged and she had no further room to retreat. As she was about to meet their jaws her collar fell off with a metallic clank to the floor; Mr. Shade had inserted a key to unlock it!

“Quick, transform!” he yelled.

Magie leaped into the air and shifted her body into that of a small beetle. She zipped away, milliseconds before ravenous fate snapped down on her. She formed an astral cage around the bird and walled off the other. They were innocent animals and she didn’t want to cause them harm.

“What the Oth?! How could you escape that collar? Gods damn it. Well it doesn’t matter. As you can see, I’m also the greatest hunter in Evnyance. I’ll track down whatever form you take!” Mary gnashed her teeth.

“Oh, I’m done running,” Magie said. She shifted to human form and drew her scythe. Mary was forced to abandon her puppets to defend against the onslaught of cleaves. The chains were cut off but more burst out from her shoulders as they flew.

The keys lining the chains proved sharp, slicing Magie’s arm. It sparked a little with decay. Magie formed an astral column and slammed it into Mary like a battering ram. She flew across the roof and skidded to a stop on the snow scattered ground.

Magie closed the distance and swiped at her neck. Where blood should flow only more chains erupted from the cut.

“I traded my soul for this power. You can’t hurt me! No one can! Now it’s my turn!” Mary growled and pulled herself up.

Magie was long from out of options but knew they wouldn’t matter if all the guards at the base swarmed her again. So far, Mary’s pride was keeping it a solo fight but that wouldn’t last. She jumped and began to scale the tower housing the nightmare.

Mary trailed her close behind. Magie needed a better form for climbing but not the silvermane this time. She had an idea. White fur flowed across her clothes and body and translucent rainbow wings cascaded from her shoulder blades. She grew paws, two extra front legs and shifted into the mammal with a cobra head and fox tails from before. The perfect form to combat an invincible enemy.

Magie crested the wall to find the tower held no roof, only a circular platform with a skull strewn chest in the center housing the nightmare. Blizzard winds whooshed all around her but the tower held calm, the eye of the storm.

She sprang for the chest but a chain caught her ankle and flung her aside. Mary crawled onto the platform. Her head was tipping off her neck from the gash but chains extended to prop it back in place.

“You think yourself so clever by coming up here to shut off the nightmare but it’s only sealed your demise,” Mary’s chains pierced the giant storm spewing mouth and the foul weather ceased. Instead it turned toward Magie, grinning wide, and let its long eyeball laced tongue whip out. It slithered through the air in attempt to snare Magie and lap her up.

“I’m going to swallow you like a parfait!” Mary screamed.

‘Still not intimidating,’ Magie thought as she bounded to the side and leaped at Mary. Her venomous teeth pierced Mary’s shoulder as the pair toppled off the tower. Mary screamed in pain but only for a second as her flesh and clothes steadily solidified to harsh grey stone. Her chains as well. She crashed and shattered on the roof as a lifeless statue.

 

Magie glided to a soft landing and returned to her human body. “I remember now, that form’s called a Philloeep,” she remarked.

The nightmare’s chest had been dragged off the tower and now lay a broken mess of steel and splinters. The nightmare itself was destroyed with it and the weather began to clear. Patches of sunlight broke through the clouds and airships approached on the horizon. The Luvegan army.

“Well fought Magie but the battle’s just beginning,” Mr. Shade said.

Magie clutched her arm. The wound blazed pink and blue with decay; an itchy burning flaring up from the injury.

“We had better hurry and locate the treasury,” Mr. Shade said. “One thing first: copy the signature of that creature there. It can withstand the most extreme cold temperatures and you’ll need it later on.”

Magie reached into a cage and caressed a grey furry lump sleeping in the corner. Its fur felt elastic and malleable, like a gel and shockingly cold to the touch. It singed her hand.

Soldiers swarmed the roof, scurrying around like rats on a sinking ship. They went to great lengths to avoid Magie, rightfully fearful of the woman who killed their commander. Besides, they had other problems; the airships released volleys of magical missiles and they met them with returned fire.

Magie snagged one guard by the collar and hoisted him into the air. “Take me to the vault,” she ordered and tossed him down. He scrambled to his feet and led her into the base.

“Here it is!” he cowered and darted away, leaving Magie before a door dripping of molten metal. It was thick too; someone had exerted considerable energy to breach it. But who? Inside she found her answer.

“Where could it be? Oh damn it all; it’s not here!” Iza rummaged through mounds of glittering coins and treasure without a care for the riches before her. She stopped upon hearing Magie enter and turned to greet her, “oh, Moonflower. Well done, bravo indeed. I see you’ve managed to defeat the infamous Mary Dumplin. Before you get any notions of grandeur however consider that it was Phallun who bestowed her power in the first place. You don’t want to fight him, believe me. In any case you’ll be delighted to know your soul shard is right here. Take it. You’ve earned it.”

“Thank you,” Magie replied as Iza handed her a crystal box. She caressed it in her palm for a moment but was quickly dislodged from the accomplishment by explosions and the echos of battle. The Luvegan assault fell heavy and hard.

“We’ve got to get out of here. I’ll phase you back to the resistance base. Spiral urgently needs your attention,” Mr. Shade said.

“You’ve been in contact with her?” Magie asked.

“Always,” he replied.

“That’s nice, it really is, but I do believe I’ll find my own way out. I’m not one for introductions,” Iza fidgeted a bit with a gem from the treasure pile.

“You don’t want to be recognized by the resistance,” Mr. Shade observed.

“Whatever do you mean? I’ve a hair appointment actually. Look at me, I’m such a mess. Certainly in no state to make new acquaintances but I’m sure our paths will cross again. On that note, I’m heading to the Midlit Valley. Phallun’s taken a liking to it for the keeping of this or that. Now if you’ll kindly excuse me, I’ve got to find my way out of this war zone,” Iza swiftly set out, caring less for the battle around her than the prospect of not ending up in a resistance base. Her confidence was not without reason however. ‘Phallun, you may control the ghate but once I find what I’m looking for, I will be a god,’ she thought to herself.

Magie cast open the box as Mr. Shade phased them away. The world slipped, slick and with growing silence until it was no more and they had left the pocket dimension of TriCora entirely.

Magie fell into darkness to land again in Rainbow’s Wane, where she had been briefed of the Appalimn. She’d grown to eighteen, a young woman, and Mr. Shade had been noticing the maturity.

“You’ve really regained much of your experience and wisdom. I feel like I no longer have to act as your guardian and can treat you now as a partner,” he stopped upon seeing tears trickling down her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s these memories. All the new memories I get when touching a shard and I remembered: Fabel’s dead,” she replied.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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