Sleya led me to the edge of a cliff, her ashen hair whipping in the breeze as she overlooked Riaka at sunset. “The council’s sending you to the Lands Beyond,” she said calmly. “You’re leaving immediately.”

  “I’m… what?” I whirled to face her, heart pounding like a hammer on a hot ingot. “What’d I do wrong?”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, kid. We just need someone to investigate the miasma epidemic, and you’re the best we have.”

  “And what? You didn’t warn me?”

  “I didn’t want to get your hopes up. Hell, I’m shocked they’re allowing it.”

  I was, too. Leaving Riaka was forbidden—the one illegal topic. It was a hard reality for the children—like me—who yearned for adventure beyond our small, secretive society. Upon reflection, she made the right call.

  “What about language?” I asked. “How am I supposed to speak to people?”

  “The ‘ancient languages’ I had you study weren't ancient. This has been in the works for a very long time. Here.”

  She tossed me my storage crystal.

  I smiled wryly. “Guess you really meant ‘immediately.’”

  “Open it,” Sleya said, ignoring my gripe.

  My pulse quickened at her urgency, and I flooded the white crystal with mana. The crystal glowed crimson as a six-layer array activated, and a spatial dimension opened beside me, exposing a walk-in closet filled with clothing and chests. The chests contained raw ingredients, notebooks, artifacts, arrays, and alchemical creations. It was my personal storage, but there were extra chests and two garments in the center—identical, save for their sizes and colors.

  I lifted the larger one. It was an elegant white cloak with simple black accents. “What is this?” I asked.

  “It was my traveling cloak once upon a time,” Sleya explained. “Well, the smaller one is. You’re twice my size, so I remade it the best I could, albeit in a different color. I’m sure there’s a geezer or two that’ll recognize the original, so it can’t be too similar.”

  I felt a deep well of emotion as I picked up her legendary cloak, tracing the beautiful green accents with my eyes.

  “I snuck some other things in there, too,” she added. “Just be careful about what you pull out in public. Your weak elixirs may be viewed as treasures, and your Codex is sure to spark panic. So have fun and show off—just don’t get carried away.”

  I nodded, swallowing nervously. Sleya studied my hesitation with shallow breaths, eyes trembling. “Come here.” She wrapped her arms around me, pressing her cheek against my chest. “I’m going to miss ya, kid.”

  I squeezed her. “Likewise.”

  “Good. But don’t miss me too much. We geezers’ll survive the next few centuries without you, so I don’t want to see you for the next few decades, you hear? Live life. Get married. Have children. You can always bring people back. Just remember it’s a one-way trip.”

  I nodded. “Yes, Master.”

  “God, don’t ‘yes, Master’ me.” Sleya rubbed her reddening nose as she released me. “Now hurry up. We’re late.”

  Sleya jumped off the cliff to avoid the emotional panic, plunging down the mountain. My eyes darted after her, barely catching sight of her sprouting angelic, ethereal wings as she took flight.

  “Show off,” I muttered. “Guess I’ll do the same.”

  I donned my new cloak, smoothed its sleeves, and then let my body tip off the edge of the cliff, plunging toward the forest without safeguards. Once I hit free fall, I sprouted ethereal wings and soared as I trailed after Sleya, laughing from the thrill. Of all forms of magic, flying was by far my favorite. It was a gift, a mark of freedom, and a beautiful means to take stock of my homeland one last time.

  Riaka.

  Just a glance would give poets inspiration. It was a vibrant, four-hundred-mile dome of golden fields and villages founded within a dark, gnarled wasteland of poisonous forests and chimeric beasts. The sheer contrast made it breathtaking—a marvel of magical ingenuity that allowed paradise to exist in hell.

  I was born here; I lived here my whole life. Now, I was leaving it behind, journeying into the outside world. It made me nervous—and yet excited at the same time.

  Sleya and I touched down in an illusory ward twenty miles west of the grand ward, joining six grand elders who were encircling an intricate seven-layer array. The magic circle had over eight hundred runes, lines, and geometric shapes, all of which would activate to teleport me ten thousand miles over far oceans and brutal habitats into the Lands Beyond.

  I met with the elders as I stepped onto the array, briefly speaking to each. Then, the head elder began the ritual.

  “Kalas Valayan, child of Riaka—apprentice of Sleya Gramley. Today, we task you with investigating the source and cure of the miasma plaguing our lands. We wish you luck and honor in this endeavor, and hope for your safe return after your journey.”

  “With my life,” I said, bowing my head deeply.

  “Good,” Sleya said, tears streaming down her cheeks. It was the first time I had seen her cry. It was strangely heartwarming to know she did it on my behalf.

  The head elder smiled warmly, then looked at the others. “Let’s begin.”

  They nodded and knelt, placing their fingers on the final ring of the array. It radiated a rainbow assortment of light.

  “Love ya, kid!” Sleya blurted as it reached full activation.

  My eyes shot open, and I turned to her. “I lo—”

  My mind suddenly disconnected from my body, consciousness blending into a sea of colors. Then, a violent wave of nausea hit me as my weightless body suddenly reappeared—slammed and shackled by gravity in another location.

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  I groaned, rubbing my head after pushing myself up. Classic Sleya, I thought. Finally says something, then doesn’t let you respond.

  I opened my eyes to a surreal sight. I was in a sprawling countryside of rolling green hills, and when I spun, searching for dark forests and flying beasts—I found none.

  It was truly… breathtaking.

  There was no difference in the four directions, so I picked one and took flight, searching for signs of civilization.

  It wasn’t long before I happened upon a village, but I could tell by the way weeds had reclaimed the roads that it had long been abandoned. The reason was obvious. The buildings had black, veiny webs growing up the stone bricks like creeping vines. It was the blight: the physical manifestation of miasma. The entire countryside had been mutated by it, leading to macabre botanical scenes in the crop fields. Luminescent corn ears hung off stalks like lanterns; gray wheat fields swayed like moving stones.

  I activated the [inspect] feature on my Codex, focusing on a massive purple mound. A partially transparent rectangle that only I could see popped up in the corner of my vision. Text and images scrawled themselves onto it. The text read:

  Name: Potato Plant

  Type: Vegetable

  Description: A potato plant that has reached ~71% mutation due to the blight epidemic.

  I glanced from the image of a potato plant (a brown bulb the size of my fist) to the gigantic purple mass swarming with insects.

  Seventy-one seems like an understatement. I’d hate to see a hundred.

  I recorded an image of the potato in my Codex, but knew that I’d probably never look at it again. I didn’t even review notes of precious alchemical herbs, but I recorded them. It just made me feel better—proactive—even though I had zero clue what I was supposed to be doing.

  Finishing my recorded observations, I flew on, following the rutted wagon tracks the villagers had left behind when they migrated—hoping to find the kingdom they traveled to.

  I found no such kingdom—but I did find something.

  It was a long orange line on the horizon. Dark silhouettes of rectangular spires cut the skyline behind it, peeking through hazy brown fog and smokestacks. It looked like a glowless fire, but when I approached, [Inspect] revealed that the orange structure was a rusted iron wall. A wall—made of iron. What prosperity! There were few blacksmiths in Riaka, so we used metal sparingly, opting for rarer metals like mythril, orichalcum, and adamantine for the precious few weapons and objects we made. But these people? These people had created a million-ton block of metal to protect their city! It was just so unreasonable. So absurd. I had to see it!

  As I flew overhead to investigate, I happened upon a black object kicking up dirt along the roadway. It looked like a black carriage, but when I used [inspect], I received only three question marks for the name, and a description that read: “A metal vehicle that transports people and items.”

  The blunt lack of information meant one thing: it wasn’t magical, and I had never seen anything like it.

  Isn’t it a carriage? I wondered. There’s no way it’s not.

  Deciding to investigate, I flash-cast an original spell I named [wraithwalk], a blend of the [absolute camouflage], [mana blend], [atmosphere stabilization], and [airwalk] spells. My body vanished as I swooped down beside it—keeping pace.

  This is definitely a carriage… isn’t it?

  It was a black rectangle with glass windows and wheels—and there was clearly a driver up front.

  But where’s the animal? I wondered, activating [astral gaze]. Or magic? It certainly sounds possessed. Is it ethereal?

  The carriage popped and grunted and ground as it puttered down the road, releasing noxious fumes from the back. It could’ve been a spirit summon powering a carriage, but I couldn’t sense aether either.

  The driver looked right through me and into the distance, appearing so serene and happy as he gazed at the gorgeous landscape beyond me. I wanted to feel serene and happy, too, so the next time he looked out the window, I abruptly released my invisibility.

  He screamed and panicked, cranking a wheel to the right. His carriage launched off the road, so I caught it with telekinesis and dropped it back onto the thoroughfare.

  God damn, I thought as I flew away. Be careful…

  Sure, I startled the man, but was that an excuse for such a reaction? He clearly had never been on a hunt before. Then again, the animals here ate grass and minded their own business. So, did people even need basic reaction skills?

  I didn’t know, but I did know one thing: it was hilarious.

  I laughed about it as I descended upon an ox-drawn wagon hauling iron ore. I sat on the back, beneath the cloak of invisibility, deciding it was best to observe the city’s entrance practices rather than simply flying over the wall.

  Unfortunately, it was a waste of time. There was a gruesome wait, and when I cast the [hearing augmentation] enchantment to listen to nearby conversations, all I heard were complaints about taxes, corruption, and the long line. So all I learned was that the country I was in was called Amia, and the city before me (likely the country's capital) was called “Amia City.”

  Feeling like I wasn’t getting anywhere, I hopped off the wagon and walked to the front, wondering if the mages working the gates would be able to see me.

  No mages saw me at the checkpoint because there weren’t any present. The guards present wore bizarre cloth helmets that couldn’t deflect a rock if a child threw it, and the men themselves were just as fragile as the wagon drivers.

  No swords or cores, I noted as I looked around. How do these people protect themselves?

  I stopped in front of a corrupt asshole demanding an entrance bribe from an elderly couple, and called [inspect] on the holstered artifact on his waist.

  Name: ???

  Description: Unknown object made of steel and polished wood.

  Well, that was useless, I thought. But it's clearly a weapon… It has to be.

  Making a mental note to ask about it later, I strode past the guards, and in through the colossal iron gates that protected Amia City. I expected something shocking to be on the other side—I got something marvelous instead.

  Amia City was unlike anything Sleya had depicted in her stories. Far from a city of stone bricks and grand manors, it was a geometric forest of metal, cobblestone, and glass. Stores had transparent walls, and the buildings seemed to scale endlessly toward the clouds. I even saw lighting in the buildings that didn’t run on candles, gas, or mana!

  And the people. I had never seen so many people.

  I thought I had stumbled upon a parade, but no one was celebrating. They all seemed to be in a hurry, weaving between horses and street peddlers on the way to their destinations. Women bustled about in dramatic dresses, often colorful, splayed outward like dropped roses. Men wore simple shirts or tailored, multi-layered outfits and hats that made them look sharp.

  I wasn’t sure what the layered outfit was called, but I had an unnatural desire to obtain one. So I released my invisibility in a nearby alley, then ran up to a short man, shouting, “Excuse me, sir!” to inquire about where to get one.

  I wasn’t sure if it was my height or if the city was known for mugging, but the man panicked. He stumbled backward and yelled, “Stay away!” while reaching into his overcoat. I saw him grab one of those holstered artifacts that the guards wore, and I panicked.

  I thrust out my hand and cast [telekinesis] to restrain him. He stared at his paralyzed arm in terror, and when he reappraised me and my mage’s cloak, his face drained of color. “A-A requia?”