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Orphan at the Edge of the World

With the combined knowledge and talents of a man from the modern world and an orphan with a mysterious past, Orison must face the challenges of a world that seems hauntingly familiar to a favorite video game yet dangerously different. Armed with determination and gifts from a questionable source, what other choice is worth making but to boldly advance when you're an orphan at the edge of the world. *Vol 1- Post Ancient Civilization High Fantasy *Vol 2- Magic Industrial Revolution High Fantasy *Vol 3- 1940's Alternate Earth Urban Fantasy/Horror

Seide · ファンタジー
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328 Chs

The Magician 5

Backing up to give Orison space, the Draconos man said, "There was blood... Was it because it was your first time or because I was cruel?"

Orison sighed. "Both but it would be more accurate to say it was this life's first time and it was a Dryad named Ezra that was being cruel."

With a firm set of defined jaw, the Draconos man said, "Be that as it may, I'll spend the rest of my life, if that what it takes, to make amends and take responsibility for anything that might come from this."

The magician smiled weakly. "I appreciate the sentiment and it speaks well of you to some degree. But understand, there will be nothing to take responsibility for. I accepted a female form for your emotional benefit but in around a week's time, I intent to replace this one with the one I am most comfortable in. That form is male. "Please understand. I'm not ashamed of being in a female form. It's simply a sad truth of reality that being male is easier and less... worrisome."

Extending a hand, They said, "I'm Orison."

Reeling in an information overload of their own, the man took the magician's into his noticeably larger one and said numbly, "Arazmus. A ple- Nice to meet you... Argh... What do you even say to someone you..."

Logic brain cells catching up with emotion and hormone processing ones, Arazmus exclaimed, "Orison!? THE Orison or one of his descendants?"

The magician smirked as They walked to a dusty mirror to check Themselves over, mildly curious. "Yes to both. It's complicated. Oh... For some reason I feel like I should know you.

In the reflection, They absentmindedly noticed Arazmus having a hard time keeping his eyes from roaming as the man said, "You or your, uh, ancestor helped me save my daughter. I'm Emris' older brother."

Orison had a moment of epiphany. "I remember some now! I... I asked you about a... decidedly unwholesome place you'd probably not like to think about... Sorry. I lost almost all of my memories of people and events after an entity erased the world I was on and everything on it."

Arazmus was about to answer when he fell to the floor writhing senselessly in pain. The magician did what They could to ease it. But after seeing what was happening, there wasn't a whole lot that They could do without limiting the benefits of what was happening. A spiritual bloodline was awakening in the Draconos man and Orison knew where it came from. Within Sprit Sight, they watched the shadow of a dragon expand out behind Arazmus as the man's horns and tail withdrew inside.

As dawn approached, the dragon blooded man straightened up while the magician helped him stand. For some mysterious reason, a single tear tracked down Arazmus' cheek before he squared up his resolve. In a surprise move, he drew Orison into his arms.

The man said, "I understand now and there's little point in apologizing again for grim deeds already done. For Rithus' gift, for the legacy and innocence I stole from you, I'm your man. If you can stand my presence after all that I've done, I swear to defend your life and honor with all that I have."

Confused, intimidated and a little scared of the man's intensity, Orison said, "Well, I'm understanding very little. Could you stop squeezing the stuffing out of me long enough to explain?"

Orison was vaguely aware that Draconos leaned towards the aggressive side of assertive personality types. Unlike others of the same bent, they tended to appreciate and admire those who were even tempered. And though they were naturally talented warriors, they also shared the sporadic gift for the occasional talented mage. This was especially true for the royal line that Arazmus was a part of.

Letting go reluctantly, the dragon blooded man stepped back once more and said, "Of course... It might be somewhat easier to stay focused on that task if we were... clothed."

The magician chuckled nervously while They supplied shorts and a tank top for them both. "I'll have better for us both after I've had a chance to reevaluate my resource situation. Mind explaining while I do that? It might look like I'm not paying attention but I am...

"Things happened so fast that I was mentally playing catch up. I was a little taken with how close in likeness I was to my previous life as a woman. I guess it makes some sense when I think about it."

Arazmus nodded and said, "Your father...grandfather, he left a trace of his spiritual bloodline inside of you. Well, the mother you. That passed on to the child you, along with hers and your own small dormant amounts. For reasons I can't clearly understand, that all passed to me when I... held you."

Looking absentminded, Orison replied, "My soul rejects spiritual bloodlines it can't absorb. They interfere with its own unique abilities."

The dragon blooded man, paused in sudden understanding. "I was a compatible host for it. I see. That knowledge does not decrease my gratitude or my sorrows at your sacrifice that brought such a gift to me.

"What you may not know is that this bloodline carries some of a person's memories and experiences within it, not unlike the soul's matter does. Your portion was a passive sharing but Rithus' was a more directed and purposeful one. I think he had intended it for your, uh, current father.

"Confusingly, that also ended up being you... He desired to have a close relationship with you and your future heirs. His plans were temporarily thwarted by your...choices. Should the day come that a union between us bears a future life, I will pass it on to them, as much as I can."

Orison said, "If that day comes, it won't be anytime soon. The memories of giving birth to myself were filled with pain, terror and very little catharsis. If I didn't have the ability to deep trance, my memories of what transpired last night would be pretty much the same."

Arazmus frowned in guilt ridden misery. "On matters of inheritance, I'll leave that decision entirely in your hands-"

The magician interrupted, "Don't make a declaration you don't know if you can keep or not. You shouldn't concern yourself overly much with the future either. We're little more than strangers. Also, please stop talking in half-*ssed high speech.

"You were a guild leader before you were royalty. I don't know how long it... Hey, I'm starting to remember a little more... Long story short, you don't have to act fancy around me. That is, you do remember how you talked to me in Indigo, right?"

Arazmus blinked a few times and said, "Yeah. It's just, I did spend a long time acting the part of noble and you weren't a lady I threw down and had my way with then, either. I don't really know how I should act around you, much less how I WANT to. I'm not sure I have the right to WANT anything right now."

Orison rolled Their eyes and waved a hand in figure-eights. "Here, I waved my invisible forgiveness wand over you. Now all that's left is your own self generated guilt. In a week, maybe less, I'll be a real boy again and a lot of your confusion over this episode will fly away along with your interest."

The man flopped down into a slightly dusty cushioned chair and said, "Maybe you're right about the confusion but you're wrong about the interest. You see, I know all of that will still be inside of you. If I can win you over, I know you can give me all that back.

"I don't know if I CAN win you over but I already gave my word. We ARE practically strangers but I don't even have to think twice if I like you or not. You already know why that is. I know love, real love, takes time.

"For the time being, you might not have my heart completely in your hands yet but my balls are. Squeeze hard or gentle as it suits you. Besides, you probably don't remember but you asked Osomo for a protector. She sent me."

He started ticking off fingers. "You restored my family's nobility. You saved my daughter from a lifetime of misery. You pulled my *ss from the afterlife. You gave me an ancestral bloodline that my race has long lost. All I've done for you is wrong you after so many things have already gone wrong for you.

"Like I said. I'm your man... for life. I'm already convinced I want you, maybe for life. Either way, at the risk of damaging your view of me, you already have my loyalty and service. I'm hoping that one day, the sooner the better, you'll want my d*ck and its services too."

Orison was knocked out of rummaging through Their space by the involuntary chuckle the sudden crude declaration caused. "Well, I asked for real and you gave me real... It seems like you know my situation. I'm a free will supporter. As long as you don't try to force your feelings on me, I won't intentionally try to ghost you... Let's pack this subject away for now. It's business time.

"Osomo was decommissioned. It seems my path crossing with an Osmos, an exploratory floating city, garnered the attention of another First Family branch. They gave me a randomized ten percent finders fee. For multidimensional pirates, they're pretty honorable. They even gave some restitution to the royal families for service beyond the limitations of something called the Conqueror's Treaties.

"Your ancient, and I'm talking ancient, ancestors gained a good deal of appreciation from them. All living Draconos royals and their spouses received the legacy version, for subordinates, of their trainings and a voluntary offer of employment. You and I were granted only a touch better but we were slapped with a lot of crap too. The brainwashing, false information to hinder growth beyond a certain point and a few other unpleasant things were invalidated by my core spiritual realm.

"I don't know if you've noticed or understand the meaning yet but you're in the mid-dimensions. You SHOULD look like a smoky outline of a person who could get blown away by a baby fart. The First Family's understanding of Greater Existence is terrifying. Luckily, we are far from their main stomping ground. The only thing that really limits what atrocities that they or any other powerful group can perform is the repercussions of spiritual debt."

After getting them both outfitted with acceptable protective equipment and weapons, Orison said, "This is just trash. No offense, but the very best that Osomo has to offer is still not meant to survive mid-dimension hopping. It's not going to last through transitions. Regardless of what happens in the next few days, we won't be staying here in this reality for long."

Arazmus shrugged and said, "The sooner we get out of this plague infested basement, the better. I'm starting to get the sniffles."

Embarrassed at Their lack of alertness, Orison blushed and hurriedly healed the dragon blooded man.

"A little pink on the cheeks of that cold face of yours is one the prettiest things I think I've ever seen," Arazmus commented casually, not intending anything by it.

Being thin skinned, the magician pretended not to hear as They checked out the orb. At first, it appeared to be a mundane boundary item or a dead and useless artifact. But when Orison did a final check by tossing it into the first layer of Their space, a weak signal of protest came from it.

With a sigh, they moved it to the second layer to let it recuperate. Seeing it trying but failing to absorb some of the magic junk that would be destroyed in a few days anyway, They gave it a little spirit essence. The orb barely managed to choke down a ring before going dormant to digest. The magician gave it specific instructions on what not to touch and moved on.

The magician picked up the last item. Harley's crayon drawing of a nautilus shell. As they inspected it, there was a slightly hypnotic quality that drew Them in to inspect finer details. Vaguely, a girl's face could be seen peering through tiny, almost microscopic windows in the gradient coloring. It was a feat that should have been impossible to do with a crayon, much less by a child.

Under the magician's eyes, it felt as if the smaller windows were getting bigger. What They mistook for an optical illusion became real very quickly. An ominous sense developed in Them but it was too late. Their visual senses, heightened by Spirit Sight, were pulled into a layer of the picture beyond the mundane visible.

Assaulted by a kaleidoscope of multicolored shapes, Orison's physical mind was stunned. Their will and intent moved to resist but it only drew them down into the spiraling tunnel faster. For a nauseatingly dizzy moment, They peered at an uncountable number of girls and women that were peering back at the magician.

They felt exposed and vulnerable. All the brightest and darkest parts of Themselves were exposed under the multitude of scrutiny. A hellish cacophony of noise erupted from them until two distinct words reverberated to Their very core where the desolate realm remained oddly quiet. On was 'Approved' and the other was 'Denied'. It was indistinguishable to Orison but the approvals won by the slightest of margins.

A torrent of spirit essence poured from all the windows as they emptied one by one. There was a feeling of dissonance between all the different types that was resolved in ways that the magician couldn't understand. But as the bits of spirit essence merged within the Entanglement Key, flecks of discarded essence was drawn into the passive gravity of Orison's desolate inner spiritual domain.

Locked out of seeing into Their own conduit, Orison despaired at the fate of the shadows within. It wasn't just soul that was condensing within the key but also power of existence and the shadows had next to none. From the magician's understanding, that equaled invalidation by the powerful force coming into existence within the strange key shaped conduit.

Where Orison and Arazmus stood, time slowed til its movement could no longer be measured. Within the magician, it had sped up to nearly unraveling the inner space. Centuries passed within but They had been protected from the ravages of its passing by the aura of the soul core's strange spiritual realm which rejected interference of any but its own mysterious gravity of law.

A woman's psychic voice seeped through the key like molasses. "What comes next might cause you some pain. The missing ones, they will be safe though you will be separated from them by a great divide. Do not give in to the difficulties of your future struggles and you may reunite one day.

"The key's special properties were both our need and gift to you for involving you in our dilemma. What we give you now is both gift and apology for the suffering we have caused you... Keep your heart alive so that we may welcome you one day.

"Know that every moment we have with those who bring us joy is no less assured than a mortal's. It's difficult for climbers to find inner balance. My answer was to hold on but grip loosely. Maybe yours will be different but we hope you can find it."

Orison wanted to respond but all the power of Their consciousness found itself devoted to a single purpose, to witness the flashing branches of possibility. They marked the ones of interest and dropped the dark ones. It was terrifying to realize just how many lead to dead ends within little more than days. More frightening still, were the chances of the magician choosing one of them.

A presence observed from behind Them, marking and dismissing in tandem. In the spiritual surroundings, a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors began building. Starting dull and shadowed, it became brighter and more intense rapidly. At the edge of what began feeling dangerous, the entity withdrew its power and Orison was ejected back to physical awareness.

Afraid that if They looked within the Entanglement Key, They'd lose too much time in dwelling on what was undoubtedly lost, Orison busied themselves with preparation and said, "Arazmus, things are about to go from sitting to breakneck for awhile. I hope you're not tired."

He gave a response of being ready for anything that rang a little hollow. He was fatigued and one of the reasons why made him feel too much guilt to be honest about it. Orison evaluated the course and gave up a couple of opportunities to ensure there was a rest stop soon. It was an undeniable fact to the magician after what They witnessed. The dragon blooded man was a blessing that followed the humiliating disaster he had brought with him.

"You've got fifteen minutes til we leave. If there's anything you want to do or say that can't wait for a few hours of game time, get them done," the magician prompted.

Arazmus smiled weakly and said, "Something I can eat while I run through my paces? I need to know what I can still do if it's about to be game time."

He was handed a pellet and a glass of water.

Ten minutes and a disturbing lack of anything but martial prowess later, Arazmus looked at Orison bitterly. "I've become one of The Children."

"No you haven't but the holes between concepts and mid-dimension rudeness is a little too much right now... You're biggest problem isn't ability, however, it's power source. We'll fix that... Put on your best mean mug. Your first job is going to be bug repellent bodyguard," Orison said with a razor blade smile.

A torn scroll later, The magician and Their intimidating associate were standing outside of a courthouse turned walled fortress nearly a thousand miles from where they started.