Progress for progress sake is insufficient. Any ranker will tell you, there comes a time where you must determine what your reason for advancement is.

  

  Willow

  Rat King’s Palace, Sheerna

  

  A UICI alert made itself known, a closed scroll flashing across Willow’s vision for a moment before nestling in an empty shelf at the top left of her vision. The shelf faded back out of view the next moment, following her previous directions to not distract her.

  The interruption wasn’t enough for Willow to break eye contact with the rat who stared down at her. Blank eyes observed her for several long minutes in silence, before the rat king sighed and relaxed back into his trash throne. “You win.”

  As if those two words were a grand spell, the world twisted and tore. The image of the too-familiar rat popped like a soap bubble, along with everything else within her sight.

  Looking around, Willow found herself standing in a world of grey mist. Swirling, twisting, flitting patterns of various shades of dark and light playfully spun. This place seemed peaceful, the temperature perfectly to Willow’s liking. The air smelled of blooming flowers and fresh cut grass. Curiosity burning, she began to explore.

  Passing through patches of thick mist, it redistributed with flicks of languid motion, uncaring as to whether it was disturbed. Not finding anything of particular interest, Willow stopped and looked around, “Uhhh… Hello?”

  As if hearing her words, the nearest patch of undulating mist bunched together and moved toward her as a mass. Although it didn’t appear threatening in any way, Willow readied herself anyway. When it was less than an arm’s length from her, the now humanoid formed mist stopped before her. It all suddenly thickened, coalescing, then fell away in a sudden audible poof.

  Jemin smiled up at her, pink eyes glowing, “Hello, human. You’ve passed Sheerna’s true trial. Do you know what this means?”

  Staring down at the cat girl, Willow slowly rotated her head in an uncertain gesture. “I guess it means I get a prize for passing the challenge?”

  The giggle that burst from the girl caused an instinctive spike of fury which Willow didn’t suppress, but also didn’t act on. Instead, she just glared. The scruffy black and white fur on Jemin’s body rustled as she slowly circled around Willow. As she did, her second, or maybe real, body also appeared. It walked in a circle moving in the opposite direction as her cat-girl persona. The sleek lime green fur pristine, tail flicking lazily.

  Two voices spoke as one, “Every rift is a trial, every challenge a chance to enter into it. To overcome the trial, you must fail the challenge.”

  The girl version of Jemin giggled and she continued on her own, “If you pass every challenge, it means you failed the trial.”

  Willow turned slowly with the cat and girl, trying to keep them both in her sight as much as possible. They didn’t seem to care.

  “Yet passing the trial means you have failed at least one challenge.” The cat’s softer voice purred.

  They both continued together, “Finding a rift’s trial is a challenge of it’s own, one which is rarely sought.”

  Unsure exactly what she was supposed to do with this information, Willow asked slowly, “Oookay, what’s the difference in passing a trial versus the challenges? Is it better?”

  “Different.” The cat said, then with a giggle the girl explained, “Passing challenges brings only positives: to many. Experience, power, wealth.”

  As the two intersected in their path, Willow thought they phased through each other rather than one passing in front of the other. The cat’s voice picked up where the girl had let off, “Passing the trial means you have fulfilled the purpose of the rift. Its purpose concluded, the rift shall cease to exist upon your departure. Completing a rift’s trial is a singular benefit, unrepeatable, an unshared prize.”

  Coming near each other once more, both forms of Jemin stopped. The cat sat on its haunches, while the girl put her hands behind her back and leaned forward with a cheeky grin. “So,” they spoke, “Are you ready to choose your rewards?”

  “I get to choose? Can I choose not to make the rift uh… Cease to exist?” Somehow, I feel like exiting right before the rift vanishes might not be taken too well.

  Apparently deciding her question wasn’t worth answering, the cat version spoke without answering her question. “In completing the trial: Breaking the illusion of choice, you have gained two choices and three rewards. Your first reward…” The girl hopped in place a little, squealing, “Is power!”

  A rush of raw potentia, or xp as Willow preferred to think of it, rushed into her. The sheer amount was staggering. Easily three times as much xp as she had gained in total since arriving from Earth flowed into her. Doing her best not to literally stagger, Willow pushed as much as she needed to into her back into it skill, instantly finishing the process of inscribing the skill into her body.

  A quick glance into her dojo told her she’d barely used any of the xp swirling within her. During her quick look, Willow noticed something odd about her dojo. The door, which had previously just been a painting slowly gaining detail, had solidified and become real. Before she could let herself become distracted and investigate, Jemin continued speaking.

  “Isn’t that so cool!? Mmmm, yummy yummy power!” The girl hopped up and down, hands now clapping in front of her.

  The cat version flicked its tail, remaining dignified as she continued, “Now your first choice. You may either: Remember your entire experience within this trial, from start to end, in perfect clarity. Or, you may choose to forget, and instead be granted a boon.”

  “She doesn’t know what a boon is!” The girl giggled, “Look at that stupid expression!”

  Willow forced the confusion off her face, turning her expression firmly back to a glare as she retorted, “Says the cat who’s talking to herself as much as to me!”

  The girl stuck her tongue out while pulling an eyelid down. The cat stretched languidly, then sat back down. The later spoke again, “A boon is an addition to your soul nexus which does not require you to have a related insight to form. The boon will be introduced directly into your nexus.”

  The thought was as alarming as it was intriguing, “I’m not sure I love the idea of someone or something else messing with my soul…”

  The cat made a chittering sound at the same time the girl guffawed, “Then die!” The cat-girl snickered.

  “Your soul is constantly being ‘messed with’ all the time! Everything you do modifies your soul, everything everyone else does modifies your soul!” She continued giggling, falling back on her butt and rolling around dramatically.

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  Realizing the cat’s chittering was its own attempt to laugh at her, Willow crossed her eyes and frowned, “That doesn’t make sense… If everything changes my soul, then shouldn’t it be a mess?”

  “What you see isn’t your soul, but your soul nexus. It is a construct attached to your soul. It isn’t the entirety of your soul. However, I have neither the inclination nor permission to educate you further.” The cat spoke cooly, though Willow was still suspicious about the slightly twisted ears and twitching tail. That was definitely a smug and or amused cat if she’d ever seen one.

  Not sure I should just take them on blind faith, but… “Do I have to choose now, or can I hear my other choice first?”

  “Sure!” The cat girl popped up, fixing her overalls as she did. Somehow, one of the straps had popped while she was rolling around on the ground. Are the overalls real, then? Or did she make the illusion clothes do that for some reason?

  Apparel in order, more or less, the girl skipped forward the two paces necessary to be right beside Willow. She gestured for Willow to lean down. When she did, the little girl whispered in her ear, “Your other choice is whether you want a guide, or a key.”

  Stepping back, she beamed up proudly.

  A few moments of dull silence passed, before Willow distantly remembered Madrick’s lecture. Suddenly, she was excited, “You mean like a world guide or a key between universes?”

  “Yep, yep!” She turned and skipped back to stand beside her cat-self. The poofy tail protruding from the denim bottoms of her overalls swung in a helicopter-like circle as she did. Willow ignored her antics, thinking hard. Trying to remember what Madrick had said.

  What’d he say… Guides came in different grades? Yeah. Some can only guide to specific universes, while others can cross to multiple. He didn’t really say about keys, I got the impression it was one key per universe? Maybe the cat will-

  “No more questions, you have your choices before you. Answer when you are ready.” With that demand, the cat turned and strode back into the mist. The girl version gave a wink, then followed, her giggle fading along with their dual forms.

  Alone again, Willow thought over her choices carefully. The first option seemed somewhat obvious. She was a little worried whether not choosing to remember her entire time in Sheerna ‘in perfect clarity’ might mean she’d forget her epiphany regarding the importance of her passion.

  On the other hand, she was confident it was something she would discover again in the future, if she forgot now. It was something intrinsic to her as a person, after all. While she’d been essentially backed into a corner and either figure it out or fall into despair, she truly believed she would have figured it out sooner or later anyway. Especially with an eternity ahead of her. That left the vague boon.

  Can boons be bad? The name of it implies it’ll be good and helpful, but who knows… Maybe it’d be helpful to someone else but not me? It’s risky. Buuut… The risk was exciting. Why take the safe path? She hadn’t done so when Luzzi and Ravvy had told her to, why would she now?

  Moving on, the question of guide versus key was difficult. She just didn’t know enough about either. She hadn’t thought to ask which was more rare. When she’d asked him to continue his explanation, Madrick had spent quite a lot of time talking about different types of rifts and how they fit into society.

  She knew, for example, that most enchanting techniques were discovered by studying items taken from rifts. Beyond that, they were apparently a never-ending supply of matter and materials. There were rifts which were essentially nothing but large plots of land dotted with unprocessed materials, ready to be stripped of their bounty over and over every fifteen minutes or so. Some refreshed a little faster or a little slower, but fifteen was the average.

  Shaking her head, Willow decided she just needed to make her choices. Nothing Madrick had told her was going to help all that much with the decision, beyond his initial explanation. She didn’t remember the exact words, it had been almost two months ago by now, but she did remember he sounded more dismissive of keys. That was hopefully a hint that guides were rarer.

  “I’ve made my choice. I want the boon and a guide.”

  Once more, the world trembled. This time instead of everything becoming twisty and weird, a familiar phenomena emerged from the mist. Vapor seemed to intentionally part, purposefully unwrapping a rift in space. This one was colored a deep ocean-blue color. The exact shade Willow had seen just before the rift pulled her in from Shee.

  The next moment, she felt a strange pushing sensation which she immediately recognized as pressure on her dojo. Quickly looking within, she found a mass of something which almost seemed to be knocking. Requesting entry. Hesitant, Willow carefully restrained her natural resistance, hoping to get a peak at whatever was knocking before she opened up fully.

  Her attempt failed miserably. The entire mass of… Something… Flowed in like water, entirely ignoring her panicked attempt to slam the metaphorical door shut on it. Unable to stop the foreign invader, Willow resigned herself to watch the roughly tear-drop shaped liquid. It flowed about like mercury, smooth and somehow seeming to run over itself as much as over the surfaces it touched.

  Her eyes were drawn toward the new door a couple times, but the undulating motion of her ‘guest’ was impossible to ignore. It swirled and twisted around, smashing into walls and furniture with abandon.

  Willow was more than a little satisfied to see it hit the weapons rack, bouncing off, without jostling a single one of her training props. Hah! My soul’s stronger than you, weird water glob!

  After a few seconds, she started to feel a bit concerned that the boon, assuming that’s what the thing was, would hurt itself. Reaching out, she tried to direct it similar to how she pushed around xp clouds. To her surprise, it responded eagerly. A very strong impression of wanting a place to own came to her. You want your own space, huh? Well, sure, why not a new room for you then?

  As if it understood, the mass sloshed across the floor and hit the wall to the left of her unexplored door. The outline of a doorway was formed, but it was incomplete. The blob moved backward, as if waiting for the door to become real.

  Taking the hint, Willow directed some of the xp still permeating her dojo to the doorway. It quickly became real, only seeming to take a sixth or so of her remaining available xp. As soon as the door was formed, the blob smashed through it. The door swung open violently, banging on the other end and flying shut again before Willow could catch more than the impression of darkness beyond.

  Even looking from above, down at the little doll-house like representation she could observe her dojo from, she couldn’t see into either new room. There was just a rough outline, showing how the rooms were roughly framed, each a large rectangle protruding away from its neighbor.

  Curiosity burning far too hot to control, Willow willed the newest doorway to open. It swung inward on well oiled hinges. It lead to a beautifully adorned library. From the entrance, she could see floor to ceiling book shelves in a deep semi-circle. In the center of the room, an indulgently stuffed arm chair sat atop a plush burgundy circular rug. The chair faced the book stacks, with a small shelf to its right and a wide side-table to its left.

  Willow moved her hypothetical self into the room, looking around in excitement. The book stacks ended a bit past the sitting area, leaving plenty of space in the front half of the room. To the left, she saw a long writing desk which took up the entire space between the wall and the edge of the book shelf. The desk both well stocked and organized, with cabinetry and drawers backing the entire length. She was pretty certain she’d have to climb onto the desk to reach some of the higher storage. From where she stood still near the door, she could see: paper, pens, markers, stencils, threads and leathers, book covers, and plenty of other paraphernalia which she associated with books and book making.

  Making a mental note to look through what all was squirreled away in that huge desk and its attached shelves, Willow turned herself around completely. To the right of the entrance, a curving staircase led upward. Following the stairs up without hesitation, she found an entire indoor theater. A massive screen dominated to far end, while a single reclining movie-theater chair faced it. Behind the chair was an entire snack station, decked out with candies and popcorn, even a large selection of drinks! Though, some of the food and beverages were strange to her. She was certain she’d never heard of, ‘Kazatrat’ or ‘Shoom Juice.’

  Zooming back out and looking from above, Willow admired the beautifully designed room. A library absolutely dripping with fancy-but-cozy vibes on the bottom, and a dark personal theater above. She’d probably have put the theater below, it was kind of weird taking stairs up into a theater, but other than that she had no notes. She was excited to check out the books, later.

  For now, she had another room to examine. Once again pushing herself ‘into’ her dojo, Willow pushed open the second new door. Or maybe this is the first? It definitely showed up first. After the world shaking and all that.

  As the door swung open she heard a, shockingly familiar, squeaking grind. A comforting noise she’d heard a thousand times. A sound which she had complained to Mrs. Nichole, her first gymnastics teacher, just as many times. She could almost hear her old instructor’s thick Midwestern accent, “Ohw, hon, I just couldn’t bare to steal this old gym’s character from it!”

  Bars, beams, hooks, mats, poles, trampolines, and so much more filled the space. It was all packed in carefully, not a single centimeter of space was used inefficiently or sloppily. All of the equipment shone brightly, polished and well used. Loved. Cared for. A mirror of Mrs. Nichole’s warm personality and care. Her first favorite teacher as a child, Mrs. Nichole had been the reason she’d gotten into gymnastics in the first place.

  After Mrs. Nichole had passed away, Willow stopped going to her gym. It had been taken over by her brother, who wasn’t nearly so warm or caring. Beyond that, he raised the rates to the point her parents couldn’t afford it. Coach had already opened his gym by then anyway. He had most of the equipment she needed, so she hadn’t seen this place for ages. Yet the smell of mahogany and citrus wood polish, the sound of the creaking hinge, it’d never left her.

  Within the familiar gym, wisps of varying shapes darted about: curious and excited. They danced and twisted around, some flaring up and rushing another as its dance became offensive in some way. They almost reminded her of the half dozen other children she used to play with during, before, and after lessons. Two hour lessons had really meant an hour of instruction and an hour of goofing off with other kids, after all.

  The gymnasium was perfect. A beautiful recreation of fond early childhood memories, with magical motes casting it in a wonderful, child like, whimsy.

  Willow’s smile threatened to rip her face, should her lips pull any harder. Tears gathered in her eyes, distant sadness mixing with pure glee. She’d always wanted to go back to Mrs. Nichole’s gym. It was almost like returning to her childhood home.