Volume 1

Chapter 2

“‘ere we are,” James said, opening the door to my new room. It was a quaint little room, covered from head to toe in a thick layer of dust, making the room look like the aftermath of a volcano eruption. “Though,’ James grumbled, taking a look around, “Ah will admit it ‘as been a while since ahve been inside.”

The two of us set to work, wielding a pair of large, golden fans with a modest emerald jewel set in the rivet. According to James, they were a magic instrument created by an old friend as a gift, though he could never get them to work beyond a gentle breeze. Whatever the case, they seemed to work just fine for work  like this. After an few hours of dusting and then replacing sheets, oil, ink, even a small gem that gave off light was replaced, the room had transformed into a tiny castle that would have been fit for a king, if it had only been a few feet larger in each direction.

“Tha’s that,” James said, wiping the sweat off his brow and turning to me, “Now rememmer, breakfast’s at 9 sharp an’ if yeh aren’ there yer makin yer own, yeh hear?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding, “I hear you loud and clear.”

“Tha’s good,” James said, turning to leave, then almost as an afterthought  “Oh, an’ if ah catch yeh even lookin’ ah my daughter…”

He drew a line across his neck, then left, closing the door with a click.

Ignoring the sweat coating that had formed across my body, I looked through the room.  As I looked through the room, I got my first good look at myself in a mirror that was laid across the dresser in the center of the room. My face was subtly egg shaped, with a healthy serving of dark brown hair that bordered on being a light black, and an aquiline nose, all of which framed my eyes, a piercing emerald green that seemed to stare right out of the mirror and into my soul. Of course, I knew that couldn’t be true, right?

In any sense, I placed the mirror on it’s face and opened the dresser, looking for clothes.

Aside from the linen tunic that I had been wearing for the last few hours, there were a wide variety of garments made from what I could only assume were extremely expensive silks. Feeling uncomfortable with the obvious display of wealth, I put the tunic into a separate drawer, and slipped into the bed, letting the last few hours exhaustion wash over me like a roaring tidal wave, then carry me into the stormy depths of sleep.

I woke up in the blank room, opposite Aphrey. As we stood there, without blinking, what appeared to be the silhouettes of many, many people appeared behind her.

“Well,” came the goddess’s voice, a hint of nervousness in her voice, “This is awkward.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Well,” Aphrey said, folding her arms, “You’ve kinda been silent for the past several trillion years. Human’s aren’t supposed to live that long. And anyways, you decide to show up now? Do you know HOW many times I’ve tried to summon you to deal with wars and the like?”

“Uh… No?”

“Three hundred, ninety six times! And that’s after I decided to only call for big events, like cataclysms and world wars!”

“Sorry, I guess?” I said, trying to find the words to respond, “I only woke up recently. As in, earlier today. In a field.”

“Ugh!” Aphrey yelled, creating a table midair and flipping in the same motion, “Do you have ANY idea how INFURIATING this is?”

“Er, no.” I answered, hoping that in this instance, the old saying, ‘The truth will set you free’ would hold true.

“Anyways,” Aphrey said, after finally calming down, and straightening herself out, “As payment for helping in the making of this world, we’re giving you a boon. That’s really what this is about, not yelling at you.”

“Yeah, of course.” I was convinced, I swear I was convinced, if only it got that woman off my back for just one second longer.

“Anyways,” Aphrey sighed, reaching out to place two fingers on my forehead and then chanted, “I, Aphrey, Goddess of the The Beginning grant thee my blessing.” As she chanted, a comfortable feeling spread through my body, as if I had just stepped into a warm shower after a long day at work.

Another figure stepped up, this time a dark skinned man with callouses and burn marks across his skin, “I Brophr, God of the War Forge grant thee my blessing.”

A young girl, looking around 16, “I Hebun, Goddess of Life grant thee my blessing.

A man dressed in a toga, holding a staff topped with a hawk followed, “I Aphoth, God of Magic grant thee my blessing.”

Each and every figure came up to me in this way, naming themselves, granting a blessing, and then fading back into the background. After each and every figure had named themselves, one, last figure remained.

The figure stepped into the light before me, revealing his features. His head was long, like a crescent moon, and his nose resembles a bird’s beak. His skin, pale and white like a man who had never touched the sun, contrasted sharply against his hair, a black that was so dark, it would illuminate a starless sky. As he stepped forward, he extended a hand and caressed my face, his cold, long fingers trailing gently across my cheek, before turning around and walking away, not before chanting, “I, Orphus, God of the End withhold my blessing.”

“Allen! Allen! Wake up, Allen!”

I woke up in Lana’s arms, her face silhouetted against the soft glow of the lightstone. Right as flowers began to blossom behind her, a knock sounded from the door.

“I-I’m up!” I yelled, jumping back, “haha, what’s wrong?”

“We’re going to the church to check your magic. You said you’d lost your memories, right? Maybe you’ve got some amazing power!”

Remembering the dream I’d had last night, I nodded. Perhaps all those figures really had done something to me.

“Yeah, lets,” I said, preparing to get out of bed, when suddenly I caught the image of James waiting by a cart through the window, “Just, er,”


“Can I please get dressed?”



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