Annette had never been more glad for the lack of a mirror. She could feel grime on her skin and in her hair that no amount of quick washes in a stream would remove. It had been weeks, maybe months?, since the stars-blessed unlimited hot water at the sect. Despite it all, the plan was working. With each new region of the hidden realm, the warping of space or impossible connected paths, she felt something happen to her mana. It took less effort to circulate, and when it did the feeling was smoother, more natural. And something inside her was ever so slightly “fuller”. It was there now if she prodded it.

  After their first rush of exploration, the three of them had returned first to the doorway for supplies, then to each section of the hidden realm for Annette to do some deeper meditation. Like a vase on the cusp of spilling over, her mana had changed just a bit more each time. Annette hoped it was a reflection of her getting closer to aspecting. Unfairly, natural aspecting was an experience too variable to have consistent accounts. At least that’s what Laurel had told her. Using a natural treasure went one of a few ways, but aligning one’s mana with a given aspect could be years of a slow build up, a sudden influx like what Adam went through, or anything in between.

  She looked at where the others were sitting in formation, a few meters away from both her and each other. Their current area was in appearance a normal plain. Not shattered and riddled with chasms, or filled with invisible monsters, or anything else unusual. Except when they stood too close to each other, they would be violently tossed apart, a fact they’d discovered the hard way. Which left John and George keeping watch from a distance while she meditated. Standing up pulled both their eyes, but they had enough caution not to come any closer.

  “I think we should keep going. I’ve gotten all I can from this one,” She called out.

  Instead of shouting a reply, George turned and led them towards the mist in the distance. It gave Annette plenty of time to observe her companions. Her brother was probably holding up the best of all of them. Month’s-long voyages at sea had inured him to monotony and unpalatable rations. She was not thrilled to have intimate knowledge of which of these extra-legged freakish beasts tasted the best. George was showing the wear a little more. His usually shaved face was covered in scruff and he was jumping at every rustle in the long grass. Annette decided there was no need to put the same examination towards herself.

  The landscape changed. Rocks jutted out of the soft soil more frequently, until they were dealing with uneven footing and ridges blocking their sightlines. Without speaking, they drifted closer together. One constant of the hidden realm so far was that new areas came with new rules. They kept walking, every few steps one of them would send pebbles skittering, causing the others to freeze or flinch.

  “Annie? Anything?” George asked.

  She picked up a rock and threw it at him. Hard. But she also paused to focus more fully on what her senses were telling her. “Nothing.”

  John grunted in a way Annette chose to translate as “Oh? How interesting my impressive and beloved sister. That is quite a bit different to every other area we’ve passed through thus far. Are you sure?”

  “I know, but it feels like Verilia. Just normal.”

  “Great. Never thought I’d be so concerned to be in a place with normal magic.” George said.

  Another few meters and nothing had changed. Her eyes were closed now, with a hand on John’s shoulder guiding her through the rocky terrain, and still nothing.

  “Ouch!” Something crashed into her shoulder blades and she fell to her hands and knees, slicing both on the jagged stones. John crashed down beside her with a grunt. A pistol shot rang out, followed immediately by a small explosion. George had been putting the meditation time to use on his bullets.

  “Did you get it,” she bit out while standing up and picking at the gravel bits embedded in her palms.

  “No. It just disappeared.”

  “So it’s invisible like the flying things?”

  “I could see it. Like a cross between a badger and a cat, but the size of a squirrel. But I blinked and it was gone.”

  “Let’s keep moving, eyes up this time.”

  She wrapped her hands in gauze with help from her brother and then they moved on. This time with her eyes wide open. Which helped her notice, but not react, when the thing came back. It appeared in front of them and launched forward, this time aiming for John’s face. Her brother twisted, but not enough to avoid it entirely. The manic rodent hit left a small scratch across his cheek with a claw.

  Annette spun to keep it in sight but it was already gone.

  “I guess we know what this part’s about, huh? Angry teleporting cat.” John’s words were slurred as he held his shirt pressed against the scratch. She wanted to fuss and make sure it was as minor as it looked but they didn’t have time. That had been far too close to John’s eye.

  “Waiting around won’t help,” George finally said. “Keep going.”

  They abandoned stealth for speed, moving across the rocks at a jog. The terrain slowed them down, for fear of breaking an ankle. John and George might be able to carry her out together, but the opposite was far from true.

  It sprang out again, this time on the left and aiming for George. Before Annette could open her mouth George’s arm whipped around and the beast was blown off course, the bullet ripping a massive hole in it’s torso. She was panting but in control when they walked over to look at the thing, and confirm it was actually dead. If this trip wasn’t for a specific purpose, the ability to react to and handle life-threatening situations would be beneficial enough. A panic attack like the one she’d had when they started was not something she wanted to entertain ever again.

  George poked at the thing with the toe of his boot. He’d been right. It was reminiscent of a black cat, covered with fur and a vicious little face. Along with an extra pair of legs and a bushy tail. It wasn’t the worst monster she’d seen since becoming a cultivator but she wasn’t looking to take one back as a pet either.

  A skittering sound came from over the next ridge. John kicked the corpse out of the way while they put their backs to each other. Annette saw a head poke over the ridge. Then the whole body blinked and reappeared a few meters in front of her. Without moving through the space between. That sparked something with her mana, but she couldn’t focus on that now. There was just enough time to get her staff in front of her when the thing launched itself. She knocked it to the side. It blinked away, with no indication of where it had gone.

  She looked around frantically, trying to track where it had gone. Grunts and squeaks behind her revealed the others were being attacked as well. Annette didn’t dare turn to see if it was one beast jumping between them or if they had summoned all the monsters when George killed their friend.

  Two more popped into view. When they sprang at her, this time Annette was ready. Winding up, she swung her staff to meet the closest beast. The satisfying thud from the contact rattled her wrists and shoulders, and the result flung the cat-badger across the clearing. Its friend was too close behind for the same treatment. Instead of trying to bring the staff back around, she ducked. These things were mean but not very smart. A few gunshots had gone off, and John’s grunts meant he was doing fine.

  Annette reset her stance and waited. Sure enough, heartbeats later, and the assault continued with another little monster. This one tried to be clever, slinking low to the ground instead of directly at her face. All the easier to kick across their battlefield, into a small cliff.

  Three more popped into existence and Annette started getting nervous. “Guys? A little help if you could spare it wouldn’t be amiss.”

  “Kind busy,” George said. The accent came out more when he was concentrating.

  “Move towards the wall,” John grunted from where he was batting the beasts out of the air. “Easier to cover.”

  Any idiot could see he was right, and Annette was not an idiot. The three of them shuffled in their triangle, facing out to avoid getting a stubborn rodent latched to their back. Reaching the wall was easy, the attacks coming with less fervor. A smile cracked the focused expression on Annette’s face. The three of them turned, with George taking a moment to reload the pistols.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Did we get them all?” Annette asked. Stars, it would be nice when they could get out of here. Back to civilization and Esther’s cooking and proper laundry.

  “Doubt it,” George replied, jolting Annette out of her fantasy. He pointed to the end of the shallow ravine they’d found themselves in.

  Sure enough, a gaggle of tiny heads was visible over a low boulder. As she watched, another popped into existence and joined.

  “At least they’re small,” John said. “Better a bunch of small beasties than one big un’.”

  She took her eyes off the animals to stare at John in horror. “Why would you tempt fate like that?”

  “I don’t know,” George said. “These little bastards are hard to hit. A big one might be easier.”

  “I can’t believe you two are making me miss Adam,” Annette hissed.

  “It’s starting,” John said, unruffled as ever.

  He was right. The sea of bobbing black heads was frothing into a frenzy, with screeches bouncing off the rocks. At no signal Annette could detect, they charged. Except charging meant each of the monsters zapped forward a few meters at a time. The lack of uniformity made her feel like she was losing time, the inky mass changing shape every moment.

  “On my signal, duck.” George murmured. There was no time to clarify before he yelled “NOW!”

  She ducked, while George hurled something towards the open end of the ravine where the monsters were attacking. John shoved himself on top of her just before an explosion went off.

  The ground shook. Flakes of rock fell down on top of her exposed skin, while ringing filled her ears. John pulled her to her feet, staggering a bit himself as they all looked around.

  Bits of monster speckled the far end of the gulch. Annette retched at the gore. Her ears were still ringing but it didn’t seem any of the monsters survived. The three of them staggered onwards, not speaking until the terrain evened out.

  “How did you know they wouldn’t get out of the way?” Annette asked the question she had been mulling over since the fight.

  “They were all jumping within a few meters of each other. So I figured they wouldn’t be able to escape the blast zone.”

  Annette nodded in thought. It was rather humbling, for all she had been thinking she was a seasoned adventurer, noticing patterns in the jumps hadn’t occurred to her.

  “I’ve been in a lot of fights,” George mumbled.

  They reached a stopping point, hopefully far enough from any remaining territorial monsters. In a hollow protected on two sides by trees and boulders, they hunkered down to recover. The process was so smooth at this point they didn’t need to talk, and within a short while, their camp was set up. Annette nestled herself at the base of a tree, closed her eyes and focused inwards.

  Her mana was in disarray. Unable to tolerate a mess, especially when it was inside her, she started by smoothing it out. After an hour of effort the speed was standard, her mana flowing along her meridians and not attempting any dead end paths or avoiding any one of the channels. The maintenance work done, she lost herself in the feel of her mana. If before she was a cup filled to the brim, now she was overfull, water resting above the edge, waiting for any disturbance to send it cascading through her. She was ready.

  Annette broke her meditation and looked around the camp. The light had dimmed, as much as it ever did in the hidden realm, and John had a six-legged rabbit roasting over a small, nearly smokeless fire. They made small talk over dinner, but mostly ate in silence. After weeks in constant contact, they didn’t have much more to say.

  Annette took out her notebook and reread everything on the actual moment of aspecting. All Laurel had been able to say was that she would feel when she was ready, and then she should just use some of the ambient mana to spark her own. The notes and recollections from the Archive weren’t much more useful. Ancient cultivators had a way of writing she would describe as poetic, if she was being generous. And entirely useless and opaque if she was not.

  Through it all she resolutely shoved down the memory of Adam’s lifeless body, spasming on the floor. That wouldn’t be her. Laurel assured her that Adam’s reaction was his body trying to contain aspected mana. She had done things properly, with meridians in place first. Then a weeks-long process of building up her affinity for spatial mana. Everything would be fine. Intense but not painful, that was how Laurel assured her it would be when they were being pushed out the door, and Annette would trust in that.

  “Tonight’s the night,” she announced.

  Both the others perked up at that, George gently placing his tinkering project to the side, and John tossing a carving into the fire.

  “You sure Annie? We can keep going if you need,” John said. Annette smiled and leaned over to hug her sweet big brother. He had taken his entire shore leave to spend time protecting her. As much as they might snipe at each other, it would have been so much harder to do this without him.

  “I’m sure. And don’t call me Annie.”

  He patted her awkwardly on the back. “Better get to it then.”

  “I will. Any last minute advice?” She turned to George.

  “Hmm? Not really. Took me years of working with the guns to pull out the metal affinity. We knew it happened sometimes but not that you could do it intentionally like this. It was a surprise when it happened to me and I didn’t really know what was going on or how to guide it.” He twisted his left hand through his hair and sighed. “Or at least, I didn’t know that, but I was not exactly high up.”

  “Right. I’ll get started..” She was proud her voice only shook a little.

  With a few deep breaths she gathered what courage she could find scattered around the corners of her mind, and settled back into her meditation pose. The mantra of ‘just keep cycling’ firmly planted, she began. Ever so carefully, she used all her concentration to pull a strand of ambient mana and connect it to her own. It was difficult and she still struggled with the manipulation of ambient mana normally, let alone with in the hidden realm. She ‘dropped’ the mana a few times. But it only took one successful attempt.

  Lost in the process, Annette almost missed the moment she actually succeeded. The ambient mana connected to her own, and that vessel full to bursting finally overflowed. It was indescribable. Like she was on fire without being burned. Her vision stretched, even with eyes closed, she could see space as just another color. Or a fabric like the ones her mother cut and stitched in Annette’s childhood home. Underneath it all, she kept cycling her mana, spreading the influence of the spatial aspect through every drop within her.

  So slowly she hardly noticed, the pressure eased. When her spirit felt stable she blinked her eyes open. For a moment, the vision was still there; she saw space twined around everything, even the air itself. With no warning she turned to the side and vomited. It was with relief that she watched the vision fade. An instinct in the back of her mind told her she could bring it up again with meditation, but at least she would be able to go about life without eternal nausea.

  “You okay Annie?” John was there, hovering over her as if he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t break apart at a touch.

  “Water.” She coughed out. A swish and spit later she was feeling much better. Even more so when she dug out the mint sprigs Laurel had packed her and started chewing on them. “It worked,” she said when her stomach had settled down.

  “Yeah?” George said. “Gonna be making all of us some of those fancy storage rings when we get back?”

  Annette shuddered. “From what I understand, that’s a higher level technique. Apparently if you do it wrong things start to explode.”

  “Problem for later then.” ‘John grunted. “You’re good?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Got the space magic now?”

  “Yes. That’s why I vomited. For a moment there I could see space overlaying the rest of the world. It was disconcerting.”

  “Then can we go home?”

  Annette smiled. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

  *********

  Leaving the hidden realm was easier than entering. George wasn’t sure if that was always the case, or if Annette’s newfound affinity allowed her to subconsciously follow the best path. Either way, what had been a journey of days was cut down to less than one.

  They re-emerged into the former village of Salgrove. The happy logging community had turned into a ghost town when it was pulled into the hidden realm, an eerie emptiness that made it feel like centuries had passed instead of months. George had been more than happy to avoid staying in the abandoned houses, even if this area was relatively tame. The same pair of guards was standing in front of the portal as the last time they passed through the village, and they looked surprised to see the trio emerging from the woods.

  “You’re back,” the idiot on the left announced. George was in no mood to do the usual delicate dance around a Meristan soldier to see if they were trigger-happy on hearing his accent.

  “We are,” Annette said in the same perfectly polite tone she always had.

  George didn’t even feel bad about hiding behind her and John. It had been an exhausting few weeks and he had no more effort left for deference. Annette was still talking with the guards and he let his eyes wander. He didn’t regret coming here. Back when he joined the sect officially, Martin and Laurel had given him a crash course in cultivation theory.

  There was shame when they told him he was a tidal cultivator, and contrasting with their own dramatic magics he was self-conscious that his purview was in tiny, barely noticeable effects. As foolish as they assured him the notion was, it had lingered. But here his talents were useful. Who knows what would have happened with the delicate spatial magic if one of the vortex cultivators had decided to wander around and exert their will? Instead, boosting his own senses or bending a bullet went almost unnoticed by the natural magic.

  It had improved him as well. The time spent sitting around and meditating on his weapons, or infusing the bullets had refined his techniques. Everything about his magic was coming easier, and he suspected being steeped so long in spatial magic had made it easier for him to affect the bullets after they left his gun.

  Spending time with Annette hadn’t been a hardship either. The woman was brilliant, and terrifying. Not in the same “I can rip your heart out with my bare hand” way that Laurel was. But in the full knowledge that she could outmaneuver him in any confrontation that wasn’t a straight fight. And even then he wouldn’t count her out. He wasn’t the well-educated expert that Martin or Laurel were, but he knew that even with the advantages of a sect, what Annette had just done was exceptional. Fully aspecting her mana within just a few weeks to something as complicated as space was a frightening accomplishment. On a few nights around their campfire Annette had confessed she felt she was falling behind in her cultivation but he couldn’t see it. He supposed it was probably true when Laurel was setting the bar, but she was hardly normal.

  With the conversation wrapped up they went through the portal, George slinking close behind the others. His first breath of normal, Decorran air was the sweetest he could remember. The sensation was ruined when they had a repeat of the same conversation with the set of guards on this side of the portal. Then again with Captain Hunter.

  “And as promised, we mapped out as much as we could, considering the challenges.” Annette handed over the roll of sturdy parchment.

  Crafting the map had been a nightmare. More so when they had to make a copy. How do you keep a scale when space is all screwed up? They had done their best but he wasn’t confident most non-mages would be able to use it.

  “Appreciate it. Have a safe journey back.” Hunter said.

  With such a clear dismissal, the three of them were more than happy to leave. Just another day or two of travel and he would be back home.

  The thought brought him up short. Was Verilia home now? It wasn’t like there was anything waiting for him elsewhere. Even if there was a revolution making Laskar friendly and safe to people like him, his family was gone. Everyone and everything he gave a lick about was here. Or that cared about him and whether he lived or died.

  The road was smooth and the good weather held. Their last night camping was somehow worse than all the others. Knowing they were only a few hours from the sect and the creature comforts therein was almost unbearable. They did stop though. John wasn’t a mage who could cheat and use magic to run all day. There was no rush. Traffic increased through the next day, as the trickle became a stream became a river of peak season trade and travel.

  When Verilia came into view, in all its hulking, patchwork majesty, Annette caught her breath next to him. “I’m going to soak in hot water until I shrivel into nothing,” she announced.

  A breath later and they were all roaring with laughter. George recognized the release for what it was, an easing of tension when reaching safety after a battle. That didn’t mean it wasn’t necessary. They caught their breath and made their way in, splitting off from John with a promise for him to come back the next day for dinner at the sect. They were home.