Path of the Pioneers

The fairy looks the same as ever: a small, childlike girl. Long, pine green hair runs down to the backs of her legs in sharp contrast to her pallid skin. Stella, the last connection I have to my master. She is a sudden, heavy anchor in the wasteland I’ve been deposited into thanks to her cheery demeanor. A contented smile is painted across her face.

She is wearing a glittering black dress that seems almost wispy. It ends at her ankles, where it becomes ragged and torn.

“I.. Can’t help but feel like we only meet under dire circumstances, Stella.” My voice is hoarse and rasp, drawing immediate attention to how parched I am. My throat feels like a harsh mixture of gravel and sand.

“That should very well change, little apprentice. But as things stood, those were the only times I could interact with you.” She winks at me, and then hops up and off of the desk she was sitting on, sticking her arms out as she sticks the landing in order to maintain her balance.

“Do you feel alright, then? Or, I should say, some semblance of alright?”

I nod, resistant to speaking with my throat as it is.

She claps her hands together, eyes closing with relief, “Good -- You had a number done on you, little apprentice, and I was almost unsure whether or not this little trick of mine would work at all.” Leaning back against the desk, Stella yawns and rubs her eyes, “Now, I would quite like to explain some things to you before we get lost in any small talk, although I’ll happily do so once I’ve finished.”

“You stand at the threshold between life and death, little apprentice~ And it is a tenuous line for delicate beings like yourself.” Her gaze pierces into mine, her otherworldly nature nearly sending a shiver down my spine, “Your heart was all but destroyed by Josephine Cirix after you had already nearly shattered yourself in the act of overcasting.” A finger went up for each one of those, “Of course, you had also been slashed and stabbed ‘twixt the ribs. And before I forget, that nasty arrow pierced you as well.”

I approach the rocking chair, taking one of its arms in my hand as I let it glide across the wooden surface. Walking around it, I take a seat while Stella continues her explanation, “My point is, little apprentice, that you are very injured. In fact, you should be quite dead. But for now, you are being held in a very fragile balance.”

“You are not dead, but you are not alive, either.”

The revelation that she cast down upon me feels like cold water running down my skin, but it doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it might.

“You’re currently in a kind of stasis, unable to pass onto death, but also unable to stand and fight. For you to come back to the world of the living, you must be healed. Fortunately, I believe you’ll be covered well on that front. With no requirement to invest in resilience, might I add!”

“The kobolds, hm?” Adeline’s voice comes from behind me and to my left, her arms holding onto me so comfortably that I may just simply fall asleep if I’m not careful, “It’s a good thing we didn’t wander far. Imagine what would’ve happened if we got out from under the mountains. If you’re lucky, they’ll know how to use those healing potions you’ve got stashed away.”

“The kobolds..?” I turn to face her, only to find she’s absent.

Stella responds from in front of me, “Huh? Yes, how’d you know?”

Right -- I saw them. “They were floating around me before I..” I bit the inside of my mouth. Before I died, huh…

“Those kobolds really do know how to navigate the caves…” Stella clicks her tongue, “Well, they should be taking care of your recovery -- I hope.” She mutters those last two words under her breath, like she isn’t quite certain whether or not I should hear them.

Stella puts her hands on the desk behind her, clambering up and onto it to take a seat there once more, “For the time being, let’s have a little chat about your progress. You finally hit level fifteen, huh?”

I nod.

She laughs a little, almost in a way that feels somber, “Then you’re ready to finally move on from your apprenticeship, Sybil~”

Move on from my apprenticeship? “What do you mean..?”

“I told you once that I would help you acquire what was left to you by Morgan, and the time for that to begin is now.” She pats her legs with her hands, drumming on them lightly, “You walk on a dangerous, unenviable path, Sybil. Your beloved is held captive by the one who killed your master, your heart and spirits both have been crushed, and you have not the strength to end the lives you must.”

“I will give you the strength to start on your path, Sybil. I will give you the strength and ability to stand once more to do what you must.” Stella glances up at me once more, her gaze permeating through me again, “But… You and I will be bound by a pact. Forever tied to one another through that bright soul of yours. And when your time comes, I will be the one who controls your soul’s passage.”

I blink, “Why are you telling me all of this..?”

“First, it’s a necessity that no party go into this engagement without knowing every last term. Second, I want you to trust me, Sybil.” She smiles, “Morgan was my dearest companion, and I would not do wrong by her in doing wrong by you. The fate of your soul will be your own.”

So, another would need to hold my soul for me to continue? My mind wanders back to the sight of Josephine looming over me, sword pierced through my chest. I had already died -- at this point, it hardly matters. Adeline’s fate still hung in the balance, however. Her death isn’t a promise, her end can still be prevented.

“I’ll do it.”

Stella nods, “We’ll get started, then. You and I will need every last moment that we have.” She slides off of the desk, “You’ll want to be standing for this.”

I stand up from the chair, and Stella lifts her hands from her waist, “Stay perfectly still, if you would.” Her voice is strained and soft, like her focus is being held elsewhere.

I watch as she begins to move, her right hand running along the back of her left arm and striking across the opposite hand’s palm like flint and steel. Those hands move apart, and her eyes scan across something hidden to me as her lips move with silent utterances. Her right hand snatches something from in front of her, and a sudden, familiar energy soon envelopes it. Spectral flames, each tendril of fire a seperate color, its texture like paint on a canvas. It sways gently in her hand.

“Sybil, the two of us are going to spend a great deal of time together. If we’re fortunate, the spark will take hold in you and you will be blessed once more. Are you prepared to begin?”

I nod. Before I can raise my head, the fairy’s open, flame-wreathed palm strikes against my chest. Heat washes over every inch of me, and the world around us has been pierced into white. Pure, blank white.

Fragments, pieces, shards of things that once were and are flood through my mind. None of them are perceptible in the scant time they flash into my head, but the feelings linger. Enough to drive me mad and shatter my mind, but something is keeping me held together.

Streaks of color pass me by like comets, each one carrying meaning. I can’t discern it, but I know that they mean something. It comes from a deep intuition that isn’t my own.

An unknowable amount of time passes with feelings running through me and colors flying past. My conscious thought returns to me, albeit fragmented. An alert from my status window has appeared in front of the white backdrop all around me.

[Class transfer attempt initiated…]