“And what does freedom look like to you?” The book’s eyes narrowed.

  I thought for a moment, but no answer came to me. “I have no idea.”

  “Try.”

  Of course, it would say that. Always testing me, never content with the simple answers. Just like my old master. “Okay.” I let my mind wander. What did I want? A wave of emotions filled me. Without restraint, I spoke: "A part of me wants to say that I’ll have my revenge. That I won't stop until I kill Selene and burn her followers to ash." A vision of my old companion's charred corpse lying at my feet filled my mind.

  “Will you pursue this path?”

  Something deep within me said that that path would lead to ruin. I got an intense sensation of déjà vu. “No. I won’t.”

  “Then what will you do?”

  Another thought came to me. "I'd like to say that I'll stop at nothing to find my dark siblings and take from them everything that should be mine." I imagined the other members of the Thirteen, the true children of the Dark One, kneeling before me as I sat on a great throne. My old companions, the Seven, were chained to the walls, forced to impotently watch my return to power. “But that doesn’t feel right either.”

  “What then?”

  I felt a smile curl my lips. "I can say that I’d like to find and slay the Hero, Dark Lord curse her name, and take the kingdom of Saern." My blood boiled thinking about her. How dare she cut me down!

  “Is that your path, then?”

  As much as I wanted it, something inside said that path would ruin me as well. Slowly, I shook my head. “No. I don’t think that path leads to freedom.”

  “What, then, will lead you there?

  A memory, long suppressed, burst to life in my mind. “In the years that I slept, I was haunted by a realization. It haunts me still.”

  The book smiled. “What was this realization?”

  “I don’t exist.”

  Angra squeaked next to me. “Master?! Don’t you ever say such a thing!” She took my hand again and squeezed. “You’re right here next to me.”

  I placed my hand on her head and ruffled her red hair. “I meant that metaphorically, my dear.”

  She swatted my hand away. “I don’t care how you meant it! Don’t talk like that.” She puffed her cheeks out and pouted.

  “Be silent, shard of a shard.” A wave of energy rippled off the book and struck Angra. She tried to speak, but no sound spilled from her lips. She stamped her feet, but those were also silenced. “Now, little lord, speak your mind.”

  I arranged my thoughts. They came easily. I’d spoken them to myself countless times: Were any of my actions mine to choose? Was I ever the master of my fate? Power, revenge, and dominance had always felt so natural to me. I’d never questioned them. Yet, in the many years I spent in the void, I often wondered one thing. How much of these feelings were truly mine? How much of me, if anything, was me? "I'd like to say a lot of things... but the thought within me is simple. How much of me is Abad-Shai, and how much of me is the Dark Lord?"

  The book considered me for a long moment. “You tell me.”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “What does your heart tell you?”

  Nothing. It didn’t know. "I truly can’t say. I never thought to ask the question in my old life, and I’ve only just started this one.”

  I could see Angra tense as I spoke. She’d never heard me be unsure before.

  "Finally, the little orphan boy speaks his truth." The book fluttered as it spoke. "So, what do you plan to do when faced with such uncertainty?" the book asked, its voice dripping with anticipation.

  "I—I don't know."

  "You do know. You just won't admit it yet."

  I’d never been uncertain before. It was uncomfortable. "I suppose I need to find my place in the world again. I know nothing about the world as it is now, so it's impossible to make firm goals.”

  “Good. What else?”

  “I want to experience it, see what there is to see." I spoke with more confidence than I had felt in some time.

  “And what will you do if the world resists you?”

  "The Goddess's world never accepted our kind before, so I have few hopes that it will now. However, that won’t stop me. To carve a space out for my existence, I’ll regain my power." I thought for a moment longer, then added, "And I want my stuff back."

  My scroll appeared in the air before me. Two entries etched themselves onto the page. The first appeared as clean white text. The other was black as night as it stained itself onto the page:

  [Quest: Walk a Thousand Miles]: You have lost your sense of purpose, and the world is now a mystery to you. Travel the land and discover your path before the end.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Reward: Gain a level.

  [Quest: Finders Keepers]: Your personal belongings have been stolen. Of them, your cloak and your scepter are most precious to you. Find your things, and bring those who stole from you to ruin.

  Reward: Gain a level.

  "Before the end?" I wondered aloud. What could that mean?

  “Did Her cursed system give you guidance?” The book asked.

  “It did.” Rereading both quests, I considered the two entries. Normally, there was only ever one, and it had always appeared as the latter had. Why were there two? And why did they look different? What could that mean?

  Before I could think about it more, the grimoire spoke. "Power for its own sake is a worthy goal, young one, and the desire to see more, to take stock before acting, is wise. And…" the book frowned, "... the Goddess's system, abominable as it is, agrees." The grimoire's words echoed with power. "The world has changed much since you left it. Perhaps we should go see it together. Then, we will discuss your thoughts once our travels are complete."

  "You... will help?" I was surprised. The book never wanted to go anywhere.

  "But of course." Its horrible smile grew wider. "It is what my creator would have wished."

  "Your price?" I'd known Aughra well enough to know her creation would expect payment.

  The book snapped shut. "For now? Nothing. In time, once you have traveled enough, I shall tell you what, if anything, I desire." The book's chain locked the cover shut once again. "Now, you will take me to the grand hall. I wish to see the death the little one wreaked upon those who entered here. I can feel the traces of their essence in the air." With its final word, it flopped onto the ground, face up.

  I reached down to pick up the old book. For a moment, I stood there, considering it in my palm. As much as I didn’t enjoy the book’s presence in the past, its presence now felt almost reassuring somehow, like an echo of the past that was returned to me. However, after what I experienced earlier, I knew I needed to be careful with the tome. It was as temperamental as ever.

  A squeak next to me forced my attention back into the present.

  "Filthy book. I wish we didn't need it." Angra growled as she alighted on my shoulder, crossing her legs as they dangled down my chest. “Are you sure that we really need the crummy old thing? I think it’s all talk.”

  "I'm not so sure, Angra. I think that maybe my old master may have seen a little further than I could. Perhaps she knew this day would come?"

  She hopped up onto my shoulder. “Mistress Aughra was pretty smart…” She started twirling my long black hair between her fingers, her brows knitted in thought.

  “Angra. You’re wounded.”

  She cocked her head. “Why do you care?” Her forehead was bruised and bloodied, and one of her eye sockets was growing dark. She had taken the brunt of the book's anger because of me.

  “I…” I felt that odd feeling again. That itching in my chest. It was a familiar's place to serve their master, to bleed for them, to die if need be. Why I care?

  “Master?” Her golden eyes met mine.

  I reached over and placed my hand on her head, my thumb over the broken skin on her forehead.

  “What are you—” She was rightfully confused. I’d never considered her wants in the past.

  "Be still, Angra." I closed my eyes and concentrated.

  I let my awareness sink into myself, into my spirit, and the darkness within. When my mind was firmly planted within my spirit, I felt around for its boundaries. To my eternal frustration, they were far closer than I remembered. Here, I could feel how much I’d lost. There were many gaps in my memories, devoured by the void. Likewise, my spirit had been consumed. Yet, not all of me was gone. I could feel the echoes of my power waiting in the darkness, calling for me to remember. Sinking further into myself, I searched for any fragments of my past self that remained.

  Attuning myself to my spirit once again, I could sense my lost memories and the fragments of my power, but each was at the very edge of my awareness. They were unreachable now, lost now that the boundary of my spirit had shrunk so dramatically, but I could sense them, like shadows in the corner of my eye. I tried to call upon my lost memories, but nothing came. I waited, hoping that something of my former self would come back to me... but nothing did.

  The little imp shifted under my hand. "Master?" Her voice was soft. Her little hands reached up and grabbed me, gripping my fingers softly.

  My eyes opened. I looked into her golden orbs. Something in them made me question my assumptions about her. I had always assumed the creature had obeyed me as a consequence of her creation. She was a part of me, after all. As such, I’d only ever seen her as an extension of myself, a tool to be used and discarded at my pleasure. And while I treated my tools well, sometimes grew attached to them when they worked efficiently, they were still tools.

  "Master..." She shuffled under my hand again. "This is embarrassing..."

  But she wasn’t just a tool. In that moment, I could see the devotion in her eyes.

  A realization came to me.

  “Angra. Why did you stay here? When I died, why didn’t you go free?”

  Her eyes grew firm and seemed to shimmer in the dim light of the library. “I am free. This is where I want to be.”

  That was it. That was what I’d missed. She stayed with me all these long years because she wanted to. And I would repay her kindness with my own. Given freely.

  I felt something burn inside of me. My scroll unfurled, and white words etched themselves onto the page:

  [Achievement: If You Only Had a Heart]:

  You remember the [Transfer Essence] 1st circle spell.

  Red energy glowed in my hand. I felt our spirits link, and my life force flowed from my spirit to hers.

  “What’s happening?”

  “I’m helping you.” I felt my knees wobble as my energy bled into her, restoring my little familiar to full health. My vision darkened. I didn't realize how little vita I had to give. I’d overdone it.

  "Master!" My familiar leaped off my shoulder to catch me as I fell backward. I heard the beat of her little wings in the air as she did her best to keep me upright. She grunted under my weight, but her efforts gave me enough time to regain my footing.

  My vision slowly cleared. "Thank you, Angra." My voice sounded hollow. I was exhausted.

  "What did you..." She landed on the ground and furled her wings. Tentatively, she reached up and touched her head, then squeaked. “Why… Why would you…”

  I smiled as she realized what I’d done. “Because I wanted to.”

  "You... you didn't... you shouldn't... you idiot!" Her red cheeks grew darker, and she shuffled.

  "You got injured because of my words. It's only fair." I patted her head.

  "... You stupid idiot… It's my job to take care of you…”

  "It's okay. We can break the rules this time.” I gave her my best smile.

  She blushed and looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn't.

  Taking a final look around my old library, I collected myself. There was nothing left here that mattered. Then, turning on my heel, I walked out, but instead of heading back to the great hall, I turned left and marched down the hallway.

  “That is not the way to the hall, little lord.” The book sounded grouchy.

  "I have one more place I’d like to look before we go that way. Book, please be patient a while longer." The old book didn't speak or move, which I hoped was a good sign.