17

  Getting dressed in something other than the pajamas and robe I had been wearing for the past few… weeks? Who even does that — wearing the same clothes over and over? Anyway, it took some effort. The old mage Jena’s treasure hoard included some clothing, though I suspected he hadn’t expected a woman to succeed him. Everything I could easily find was clearly made for men. The garments had no allowance for hips or a bust, but they were large enough to work.

  I chose a linen undergarment and a knee-length linen tunic with sleeves that reached my elbows, along with matching loose drawstring pants. Both were a muddy red, hemmed with simple embroidery.

  I packed a small bag with millet bread and a skin of water. All the while, excitement kept building inside me. I was actually going to explore and see what was really in this world. I wasn’t worried about what we might face at the source, though Jena clearly was. Even if I didn’t have any magic of my own, I figured he could always teleport me away if things went wrong. But the real reason I wasn’t afraid was simpler. I wasn’t afraid to die. This wasn’t my world. I had settled in, grown comfortable, and was slowly building a life. But if I were to suddenly die, I didn’t think I would mind, as long as it wasn’t painful.

  Which was probably why Jena was worried. This was his world, and he wanted to live. I was his anchor to the physical here. Knowing this made me feel a tinge of guilt. Jena was more than just a companion now. He was my friend, the one steady presence I could rely on in a world that still didn’t quite feel like mine. He had been beside me all this time, guiding me, training me. He has always been on my side. Yes, he did all these things because my getting stronger would help him still the fact remain he was my companion. The one thing he wanted from me, the one thing that would ease his fear, was the one thing I couldn’t give him. I simply couldn't make myself care whether I lived or died. Not the way he did. Not the way he needed me to. I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I just wanted to explore. I wanted to live life. In my world, we called that daring.

  While I got ready, Jena paced between the kitchen and the pool like a caged animal, restless and unsettled. Each time he looked at me, something flickered across his face, worry, hesitation and fear. It was so hard to tell on his non-human face. More than once he drew breath as if to speak, only to stop himself. I didn't quite understand this fear.

  Was it because of our earlier conversation that he was afraid to speak his mind now? I had wanted him to treat me like an equal… not to move around me like someone walking on eggshells, always afraid they might crack beneath his feet. I sighed. This bond between us, was really like a marriage without the romance, closer than familial too.

  I had had a good, long marriage with John. The thought struck sharp and there was a sudden tug of memory but the grief that should have followed never came. Only the faint and distant echo of it. When had I stopped mourning you, John?

  But this bond, felt real in the same way my life with him had been real. It was solid and familiar, without the romance., though. Not the idealized kind people liked to talk about, either but the real kind. The kind built from friction and adjustment. From learning where the other person was fragile and trying, again and again, not to press too hard on those places. Connection wasn’t simple. It never had been. I rubbed my temple and let out a quiet breath. Yes. I really had my work cut out for me. This wasn't a marriage but it was just as much hard work as a marriage or even more.

  “Jena, you don’t have to hold it in. I can feel the entire emotional mess from here. With this bond getting stronger by the day, privacy is becoming more of a suggestion than a reality. And… I understand.”

  He whirled around and pointed at me. “That’s it — the bond! It was never like this with old Jena. I don’t know what it means!”

  I noticed he’d started using my name for his old mage. It was confusing enough that he was called Jena, the mage had been called Jena, and the city they ruled was called NyaJena, which means Jena’s. What was it about that name that made them give it to everything? When I asked, he only shrugged, as if the whole matter were faintly amusing.

  Jena’s hand lowered a fraction, but his eyes remained sharp and restless. Colors churned within them like a trapped whirlpool. My ancient and proud, baby-cute looking dragon looked genuinely unsettled. I didn't say this because his looks was another sore spot for Jena. He was a ancient silver dragon but right now he looked like a baby brownish yellow baby dragon.

  Jena frowned. “We couldn’t see the Mist residue before. I mean before, with old Jena. Not like this.” His voice tightened. “But you can. And so can I.” He shook his head slowly, the frown deepening. “Things aren’t the way they should be.”

  No, Jena, I thought, things are not the way they were. So the old dragon was afraid of change, not of me running off on some grand adventure. Ancient and powerful beings were often like that. I walked to the pool and sat down, gesturing for him to join me. I waited until he settled opposite me before speaking.

  “Didn’t we agree the system might be trying something new? We’ll just have to feel our way through it. Look at it from my angle. For you, it’s only that the magic feels different. For me, it’s the existence of magic itself. I’m talking to a dragon who is here… but not here.” Another puzzle that needed puzzling. Was Jena a spirit? A ghost? Ghost implied death. Spirit, then. “I woke in a strange world. In a body far younger than the one I left behind.” I tilted my head at him.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “This isn’t a competition,” he grumbled. “You think you have nothing to lose. I think we have everything to lose.”

  He got me there, I acknowledge. But I wasn’t about to let him sink into a downward spiral of fear, caution, and doubt and drag me with him. Life was meant to be lived.

  “Come, Jena,” I said, a smile tugging at my mouth. “When did you become this cautious?” I leaned forward slightly. “If this Mist is connected to the Grootslang, then this is the first step toward dealing with what you fought before. And I think…” I let the words settle between us, “…old Jena would approve.”

  “Can’t you see? This is an old Jena kind of plan. What’s worse, we don’t even have half the magic he had or I had. You have not awakened, and I am stuck half-living, with teleportation as the only real magic I have,” Jena said.

  “And a good magic it is, too!” I smiled broadly. “We’ll use it to get to the source quicker. Explore if we can, or teleport away if things get dicey. We can always find the source and come back to the lair to figure out what to do next.” This had been, after all, what he had wanted to do, save this world from the Grootslang, probably as revenge for what it did to him, old Jena, and their people. For all his hesitation, caution, and fear, Jena wanted to do this above all else. He just wasn’t certain of victory hence the worry. I wasn’t worried about victory. I simply wanted to see.

  In the end, we agreed to test Jena’s teleportation range from the lair while following the direction the residue seemed to be coming from. Jena could teleport to a place he could see or had been before. And since we didn’t know where we were going, we jump-teleported from one place to the next farthest visible place.

  With each jump, the forest closed in. The residue thickened and it was no longer faint threads drifting through the air, but pale streamers curling around tree trunks and hanging low between the acacias, msasas and baobabs. It clung to the bark. It pooled in the hollows. When it brushed against my skin, it felt like cool breath. We heard occasional rustle against the dry brush or s sharp bark followed. But mostly an eerie silence hang in the air. Where was the wild life?

  Another jump. Sometimes grass rippled ahead of us not with the wind, but with bodies slipping away unseen. The savanna trees stood tall and widely spaced, their flat crowns cutting jagged shapes into the sky, but beneath them the undergrowth felt watchful. We heard life everywhere. We saw none of it. Either they were fleeing us because animals are clever like that or something else was scaring them.

  Then the hyenas happened.

  It might have been our tenth jump, I had stopped counting. The forest had thickened around us, the distant mountains no longer distant at all. The residue was no longer residue it was like a mist to our inner sight, coiling low along the ground and threading between trunks. With normal sight, we could still see clearly enough. It helped Jena jump farther and farther.

  The sun hung just past its peak, heat pressing down but not directly. It filtered through the canopy in strange layers, as though the air itself had been strained through a mesh shade. We rested beneath a thick msasa tree. That was when the silence shifted. Not birdsong fading, that had already thinned to nothing. This was heavier, weighted by the stillness. Even the residue seemed to pause. Then a shape moved between the trees. A wolfish form with slouched hind legs, a spotted coat, and huge ears.

  A hyena.

  Then another. Two. Three. Five. Eight.Ten. I stopped counting. They were too many. They skulked around us, spreading outward, fanning into deliberate spacing with their heads low, shoulders rolling. Not scavengers sniffing for scraps. Not opportunists waiting for weakness. They were predators on a hunt. Pretty unusual for hyenas if they were the same as hyenas in my old world. A cacophony of the hyenas’ distinctive soft-grunt laughter erupted.

  “Leaving!” Jena barked. And we were back in the lair.

  I exhaled sharply. Urgh. We left too early, I thought. But at least we had returned. Jena’s teleportation worked and it had a good range too.

  “What was that?” My voice was steadier than I felt.

  “I don’t know.” Jena’s eyes were wide, pupils blown dark. “The came from nowhere. I didn’t feel them approach.”

  “Neither did I.” That unsettled me more. “And there were too many. Are hyena packs this large in this world?”

  “No, that must be three or four packs at least.”

  He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Are you ready to go back? I mean, the teleportation works.”

  “Yes.”

  But something nagged at the back of my mind. What if the magic stopped working while we were surrounded? Now it was my turn to be cautious. Jena’s teleportation felt too good to be true. In every magic book I read back home, there was always a limit. There was always a price to pay.

  I frowned. “What if we can’t come back instantly?”

  “Oh,” he huffed, “look who is cautious now.”

  “Not cautious,” I corrected. “Just being practical.” I gave him a shaky smile.

  Jena smiled and we instantly reappeared behind the circle of hyenas around the msasa tree. A lot more hyenas had joined. They stood too still. Their mouths gaped slightly, tongues lolling but there was no panting, no sound. Their eyes tracked in eerie unison. They weren’t rabid. They were waiting. It took them only a breath to sense me, not Jena because of course Jena was invisible. Heads snapped in my direction. They moved as one and the soft-grunt laughter erupted again.

  We jumped and they found me again. Each time we landed, they adjusted.

  Finally Jena said, “Up.” He searched for the sturdiest trunk in sight and found a massive baobab. Its bark was pale and swollen, its branches thick as walls. We teleported into its lower limbs but still high above the ground where the hyenas couldn't reach.

  The hyenas gathered beneath the baobab tree, just waiting. Not pacing. Not snapping. They crouched low on their haunches, shoulders hunched, heads tilted slightly upward. They knew where I was and were willing to wait me out. It gave me time to truly look at them. I really looked at them, not with my physical eyes, but with my second sight. And then I saw them. Pale wisps, cotton-like strands wrapped around each of their necks. Like collars.

  Ding!

  You have become aware of the enslaving power of the smoke-that-thunders’ residue.

  Your Awareness has gained +1 XP.

  Awareness is now 9/10. Congratulations!

  +1 Mental XP.

  You have +2 unspent mental XP

  Would you like to spend your XP?