45 RE: INVASION

Dreaming once again meant the gods were returning.

Lycaon took the stage in his mindscape. A voice. A silloute, growling as he stalked across stony walkways and vineyards, spilling wine out of a broken glass while wearing a broken crown.

He was angry. He said he was fourteen times. He really wished to control how he was perceived it seemed.

"A king!….. psh…. No king sleeps before their soldiers! As your Arcadian island hellscape advances, you lay limp with your eyes shut! WAKE UP, you sniveling olive-shit!"

***

Waking up without the feeling of snow melting on your nose— or ice grasping your bones, was bizzare at first. But quickly, it became heavenly.

It was warm. The sun was out— high in the sky and uninterrupted by blankets of snowfall. The clouds ate up the harshest rays, stopping the solar burn from biting their unarmored bodies.

An ocean breeze from every corner spiraled across the island landscape, brushing away the soot, ash and ice flakes that covered them all.

Claude groaned from the dig in his ribs as Ursula continued her march. He was heaved over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. In her other hand she dragged a vine pouch full of metallic objects that clanged like pots and pans.

"Loot." He realized. Which then led to him realizing they'd completed a Tangent.

HE completed a Tangent.

A new warmth filled him. It wasn't on the best of terms or even completed flawlessly, but given the circumstances, he was progressing in the way he desired.

He was becoming a h—

To his left Isaac marched with Ursula. In one hand he held the crown-mellivora egg. In the other he carried Xander— who was finally waking. Faster than the others most likely thanks to his mages constitution. They could get more out of healing magic.

Still, he was in a daze. A crying, depressive daze. Purple veins bulged in his neck and his hands as he tried to wipe the tears.

"Relax man. You'll be fine—" Isaac rolled his eyes, visibly tired of dealing with the mage.

"None of this is right! It won't be fine!" Xander coughed and wiped his snotty hands on Isaac's shoulder plate, "Samuel was the shhhronges…. Statistics never lie! Children of Reborn inivishual….. inishivual…—"

"Individuals." Isaac corrected.

"Children of Reborn individuals experience rebirths and growth rates twice as fast as their unawakened counterparts! It should've been Samuel! My alignment with him was justified! The guild-maker bands were a metaphor for heroes functioning as a collective! I was justified! We... why do I feel so wrong?" Xander dropped his head and cried. His long straight hair fell out of its band and flowed in the oceanic winds. Almost symbolizing his own loss of control.

"You feel wrong because you are wrong. But that's what this place teaches. I don't get how you don't get it. You're being taught to be a vulture. You can spin it however you want with your stats but you still helped a student enslave other students."

Xander looked up at Ursula— cringing visibly when he saw Claude awake and eyeing him from atop Ursula's shoulder.

"Tai had me locked up for days, Xander. I don't give a gods damn about a metaphor or any guild. We don't even treat goblins that way." Ursula let out a mannish groan to fight down her own tears.

As Claude looked around at all the marching students back in their island home, he could see the exhaustion wearing them down. There was no excitement— aside from Brink and the Island-Dogs running back to him. Just tiredness. New perspective. Realism was a darkened imagination at times….

Claude perked up suddenly, startling Ursula as he jumped off her shoulders, ignoring the ache in his ribs and legs and arms and everything. He was healed but still raw. No matter.

He let the students walk past him like a herd of unaware aurochs. Only realizing he was up as they passed him. Forming a group at his back as he faced the Tangent deep in the ocean ahead.

Percival, Sion, Trey, Goren. They all passed him. Finn and Reagan— the two heavyweights looked like death walking as they lumbered by. The archers balding blonde hair was spiked in all directions and his uniform was trashed to the point that he was basically naked. Raegan's bark armor was cracked and sanded down to absolute uselessness. His dark bronze skin and brown buzzed hair looked tested to say the least.

The sight of Finn made him panic. His pulse hammered in his ears.

He turned back around and faced everyone. Some of their lips moved but he couldn't really hear.

His hand hit the back of his neck to itch nervously as he combed through the pack of teens. He clicked his teeth and pointed around, sending the Island-Dogs pushing through the crowd with their noses low and muscled tails high.

Suddenly he stopped.

Naz hung at the back, eyeing him in a way he didn't quite understand. As usual.

"What's wrong, Claude?" Stella stepped forward, her tundra-stalker followed, sniffing in his direction expectantly.

"Where's Juli?"

Everyone looked around, the realization hitting some in the form of disbeleif, others held guilt…. irritation, fear.

"We…. You said to be blindfolded. We were." Someone said.

"We kept our eyes covered to avoid snow blindness. We had loot collectors assigned and everyone else stayed close."

"You used the rope to light the fire." Darius explained where they failed. They weren't bound together.

"So, she's still inside?" Warren looked back at the Tangent hovering above the ocean ahead.

"Y—"

Claude was on the move. At his sides, Percival, Brink, Marion, Darius, Stella, Finn and Ursula followed. Some of his fastest allies and Juli's closest friends…. which wasn't saying much sadly.

They hit the water hard, ignoring the students yelling after them.

Percival surfed in a blaze.

Marion swam in shadows.

Finn pulled a walkway of earth from the ocean floor.

Ursula ran on lily pads of ice.

They all moved.

The Tangent entrance spiraled.

"NOOO!" Claude reached with a green hand as it swirled and popped out of existence.

They were only twenty feet away.

The boat floated alone in the distance, fading behind the horizon.

"Let's check the boat. The snakes— maybe she was bit and passed out there. It's not that far….. it's not that…." The boat was barely visible, taken in by the deeper waves.

A hand rested on his shoulder.

He turned around and found Ursula hovering in the waves next to him, glimmering droplets rolled down her tan freckled skin. "She's not there."

"We wont be here much longer either since we took the fish-men repellant out of the water." Percival surfed around them slowly, watching the waters ahead.

Marion slapped the water, "Dammit!"

Claude didn't have words.

Was that student six or seven? Or ten? He lost count. He lost belief. There was no way this many potential heroes were just dying.

Over nothing.

Over not entering ice cold waters before even starting their journey at the university.

Over enslavement in a stupid game that didn't even teach anything.

Juli survived the Tangent. She survived everything before that too. And still, perished over nothing.

"Claude, come on."

"Coming…."

***

Their first Tangent left the students mentally time displaced.

They were in another world for hours. In the cold and dark and harsh barely surviving. But outside, in the world they called home, only minutes had passed.

It was confusing and left them all in a state of restlessness.

That or it was Juli's death.

Nobody slept.

At least willfully.

Claude drifted. Remembering bits and pieces of his trek to Ends-Island. It all blended. The trees and burnt brambles. The bubbling shores on the sand. The corpses and sight of the University in the distance. He no longer cared about the eyes inside watching him or the HexBlade hunting or the twin tyrants recovery.

Even if he wasn't stalked by wolf-gods and nepo-babies, he could die over nothing just as fast. Even faster.

His head bobbed as he nodded off again.

"Or not…" He realized as he recovered from the awkward jolt.

Suddenly he was in a thatch bed wearing jungle-weaver silk sheets with his arms around her.

Under better circumstances, his stomach would've done summersaults at the sight of her and the way the moonlight spilling through the canopy above danced on her skin. It looked like melted chocolate. Smooth and sweet.

Her long thick dreads were out of their band and sprawled everywhere, hanging over his shoulders and around his neck like the roots of a massive oak tree. He could feel the seeds within each lock. The magic in them made his arm hairs stand on end. Or maybe that was just her.

"Welcome back, hero." Naz said with her almond eyes still closed. Her thick nose twitched as she scented the rich night air like a curious cat. Then she stuck her tongue out as if she needed to taste it.

"Yea." Claude replied.

"Juli's funeral is tonight." Naz said. "I'm going to speak. Would you like to join me?"

"I will." Claude sat up.

Naz rose with him. Her dreads coiled around his shoulders as she leaned into him.

"You must stay strong, Claude. This is only the beginning….."

Claude looked at her, "What?"

"You heard me fine, did you not?"

Claude mentally shook off her words.

"We have to get stronger— so this doesn't happen again. So we don't make mistakes like this." Naz said, "As End-Island King I am just as guilty as whatever did her in."

"So am I." Claude exhaled.

"Is this….. that guilt you spoke of?" Naz looked up at him. "Is this where it comes from?"

Claude nodded.

"Use it for power or do not use it at all, understand?"

Claude looked at her again and itched his head, "Naz, that's not how that….."

Both of their eyes followed his hand as it fell back on his lap. He almost jumped at the sight of it. Wooden roots and spiked vines coiled around his forearm. They trailed down to his hand like a braided second skin. Flowers bloomed on his knuckles, pulsing with floral magic. Thorns curled and combined at the tips of his fingers to form black claws. He could smell the poison there.

A hideous gash trailed up his bicep. More nature bloomed— literally from within his blood. From within.

A series of knocks came suddenly. Claude jumped.

Naz grabbed the sheet and covered his arm.

"Come in, Carmen."

The young witch stepped inside, completely unfazed by their lack of clothing. Given her origins, he was sure she'd seen and heard worse.

"We're having a meeting in ten, then the funeral. Everyone's getting jumpy. We need an objective."

"Understood." Naz said before looking to Claude, "Does that work for you?"

Claude nodded.

Carmen smiled and left.

Naz left the sheet covering his arm. "So curious."

"W-what?" Claude said. His blood ran cold again. All the talk about not caring and dying anyway was up in the wind in the face of reality.

"Magic." Naz replied, "It is fascinating, but also simple. It is…. predictable. It is trauma manifested. That is our power— our strength. Trauma. The expression of it. The little boys protecting their sisters from the goblins become Knights. The hunters chasing their next meal in a snowstorm become archers. The boy in the kennel full of wild-dogs becomes a wolf-speaker. What boy becomes this….?" Naz looked down at his arm beneath the sheet.

"I…. I—"

Naz looked up at him again with those horrifyingly alive eyes. So violently awakened and excited and curious and…..

"What traumas did you experience, Liberator? What did you have to survive to become this forested monste—"

"Don't say that!" Claude shot to his feet. To his surprise, Naz shot up with him, almost predatory in the way she gave chase.

"I am sorry. I am still learning your language." Naz smiled awkwardly and shrugged.

Claude sighed. His nerves were everywhere but in check, "It's fine. I need to get some fresh air. I'll meet you in Neodrassil."

He grabbed a silk shirt, pants and nature cloak and left. Under the cover of darkness, he could still feel her eyes on him.

It kind of reminded him of Ursula. They were both perceptive, but somehow seeing different things. He wondered who was more true to him— as if he didn't know himself.

Did he?