“I can’t lie. I was worried for a bit, but then I thought, Erik will come save you!” Fern said, laughing.

  I looked behind us at the blurry remnants of the memory we walked from.

  “I’m sorry,” Fern said. “I . . . I saw it. That . . . accident in the metal cage.”

  My stomach twisted. “Yeah, that was five years ago.”

  “And you still blame yourself to this day?”

  “I . . .” I didn’t expect that.

  There was silence between us before he walked down a small glowing path.

  I was taking responsibility, not blaming myself . . . right? I thought.

  “I tried to reach you, ya know?” I said to him. “But you were gone. It was all so . . . quiet.”

  “The chimera had me pinned down pretty bad,” Fern said. “It hunted me. All around that park in your memory.”

  “Then what happened? You said Dog saved you? Is that . . . I mean . . . How?”

  “Honestly, I was shocked about it myself, he—”

  “No, Fern. Like how? It’s too convenient. All these ‘coincidences’ are just too damn convenient. I swear, Fern, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m tired of whatever force is pulling these strings.”

  “Maybe it’s just fate?” Fern shrugged as we kept walking down the glowing path.

  “I’ve never seen fate be so obvious about it.” I shook my head and ran my fingers through my green hair. I was still in his form despite seeing Fern before me. “So, tell me. How did Dog appear?”

  “Well, when you transformed, the world went black. I was in complete darkness. Then the chimera appeared, hatching from an egg of fire.

  “It hunted me nonstop. I found my way onto this road and led it into one of your memories. But it kept hunting me there too. I was running out of places to hide. And then, I got lucky. The old man just showed up. Dog gave me the cursed sword right here on this road. When I held it, it was different.” He pulled out the cursed sword and swung it playfully. “It doesn’t screech like when you hold it. It sings to me. With it, I was able to trap the chimera.”

  “Trap it where?”

  “In my own memory,” he said, sheathing the sword.

  I focused on his feet as we walked along the dimly lit road. Dog, the cryptic self-proclaimed Towerhopper who’d gifted me a sword like some sort of cliché video-game NPC, somehow stepped into my mental chaos to help Fern.

  “I don’t understand how it’s even possible,” I murmured. “I mean at this point, with Dog entering my own mind, we will have to assume we are involving ourselves with beings who can do such things. Whether Dog is a god or an advanced humanoid species, he has helped us so far. Although I am still suspicious.”

  Fern nodded. “He said that he wants us to still meet with him on this floor.”

  “Did he leave directions this time?”

  “He said he already told us.”

  “Figures.” I groaned.

  “Yeah . . .”

  Fern let out a shaky exhale. “He said he had some kind of ‘investment’ in our survival. Explained little else—just muttered something about testing your worth. Then he pressed the sword into my hands and vanished.”

  “So he’s just gonna be that kind of guy, always speaking in riddles, huh?” I asked. “Still, I’m glad he helped you. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Fern half smiled, then turned more serious. “We’re not out of the woods yet. The chimera’s still lurking. I didn’t think I could do it alone. But you’re here, so I’m sure we can do it. Just . . . don’t judge my family too much when we go into this memory.”

  “Of course. You saw my darkest moment. I’m actually glad you did. You can see why . . . I’m like this. Overprotective.”

  We stood there in silence until he spoke up again. “Listen, Erik, about Noah—did you see his eyes right after the crash? I thought maybe I imagined it, but while I was trapped in that memory, I experienced it multiple times. There was this . . . other light that flickers behind his eyes just before he passes out.”

  I fought past the lump in my throat. “I remember little at all, but everything went black so fast. I couldn’t think straight after the accident. Noah was in that coma for seven months. Half that time, I was dealing with funerals and barely functioning myself. No family, or any close friendshelped us. Aside from some of my parents friends from the card shop, it was all left to to me.”

  Fern turned around. “I think it’s possible that was the moment the twin soul entered him.”

  “What? Back on Earth? How could that even happen?” I asked.

  “I don’t know . . . but something about his eyes, and the fact we know he is a twin soul now . . . It seemed like something happened there.”

  A half laugh escaped me. “If that’s true . . . then I could have avoided all of this. Maybe if I’d just kept my eyes on the road . . .”

  He shook his head. “Don’t do that to yourself. I’m not saying this for you to blame yourself. I’m saying it to say that what if all those years he spent telling you how it was your fault, all those years he spent hating you, what if that was never him? What if it was the other soul? What if you blamed yourself all these years and took on so much burden for no reason at all?”

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter at this point whether he became a twin soul on Earth or when he came here. You’re right . . . In the end, I have been the one blaming myself. It wouldn’t matter if Noah never uttered a hateful word toward me. I held on to the guilt on my own. He didn’t cause it.”

  “I’m sorry.” Fern turned again and cracked a sly grin. “Did you just say I was right? I am not saying we abandon the cause to reunite with him; I just think you should let go of the guilt.” His laughter died as we came upon a large brown door. “I need your help here. We faced your demons; now I need help with mine.”

  I clenched my fists looking at the simple door. I was aware of it now, the guilt and pressure I put on myself. I had to let go and live for myself. My pulse throbbed with anxious energy, and I forced confidence within myself. I looked at Fern’s shoulders; they were shaking. “I’m ready,” I said, my voice firmer than it had been in weeks. “I’m with you.”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  We walked through the door, and a swirl of bluish-green light spiraled before us, then pulled back like a stage curtain being drawn. On the other side was a cramped stone courtyard. The odor of old incense and stale beer assaulted my senses immediately. It felt unsettlingly real.

  We stepped through, and suddenly, I was in a city of colorful tarp-like roofs and square buildings. Corrello, I remembered.

  The sky was gray, and a bright green tarp covered the courtyard. At the far end, a robed figure stood by an ornate fountain talking to a younger Fern.

  “That’s the priest-mage,” Fern muttered. His jaw tensed. “He’s the one that tests if you’re a voidblood.”

  I risked a glance at him. “Is this . . . the day?”

  He nodded curtly.

  The priest-mage lifted a long, thin needle, touching the tip to young Fern’s forehead. A ghostly flash lit the courtyard, and I saw the adult Fern beside me clutch at his arms as though reliving the sensation. Dark red blood trickled from the younger Fern’s forehead. Behind the priest-mage, two adult figures—Fern’s parents, I assumed—looked on. The man looked sad and tired; the woman’s eyes gleamed with frustration and something darker.

  “Fern Landaluce,” the priest-mage pronounced in a resonant voice. “Your blood bears the void mark. You are hereby declared—”

  “That’s enough,” snapped the woman. She was younger but had the same green hair and sharp angles as she did when Erik met her. Zola, Fern’s mom, grabbed a bottle from a nearby table, took a swig, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Go on, say it. He’s one of them, right? Right?!” she said before taking another swig of alcohol so strong I could smell it through the memory.

  The priest-mage shot her a disapproving look, then continued quietly, “—declared voidblood. Your presence in the city will be monitored as per the ordinance. As long as you live, your family shall no longer be able to ascend past the second class ranking. Unfortunately, Fern, you did not choose this life, but for the realm’s safety, we must impose these restrictions on your kind. All for the good of your fellow man.”

  Young Fern’s eyes filled with tears, not just from the needle’s sting but from the weight of the label. His dad, Dario, stepped forward, pressing a few coins into the priest’s hand. “Keep it quiet,” he hissed. “No official records.”

  The priest-mage gave an annoyed look. “Look, my lord . . . I mean . . . old friend, I have to write it in the records. I’ll do what I can so it doesn’t enter the social sphere as quickly, but try to keep to yourself. Keeping the kid hidden from people is my best advice.”

  Zola turned away and raised her bottle in a mocking salute. “Pretend to hide it all you want,” she spat, “but the truth is out. He’s cursed. We all are. I blame you for ruining us, Dario!”

  I felt my heart clench at the venom in her voice. I risked another glance at the real Fern, standing beside me, his fists knotted at his sides. But he said nothing; he just watched the scene with a stoic calm that somehow felt worse than anger.

  In the memory, young Fern looked up at his parents, confusion and shame tugging at every line of his small face. Zola grabbed him by the arm. “You’re going to ruin us more than we were before,” she muttered under her breath. “Why couldn’t you be normal? You were supposed to save Mommy from this hell!”

  Something inside me twisted painfully at the question—so similar to the guilt I’d carried around for Noah. I realized Fern must have felt this burden of blame for most of his life.

  Then the courtyard dissolved around us like dust in the wind. The voices and the stale smell faded, leaving us once again in a pocket of emptiness. I turned to Fern, but he refused to meet my eyes.

  “I never wanted you to see that,” he murmured. “Not in full.”

  “Fern . . .” I ventured, not sure what to say. Apologies felt hollow. “Why did he stay? Your father. Why couldn’t he have taken you and run?”

  He took a slow, steady breath. “I . . . don’t know. He was always quiet about it. Anytime I whispered to him while my mom was gone, he just gave a nonanswer. One time, Lotrick said he found out, but if I knew, it could end up hurting Dad more.” He looked frustrated. “It . . . it has to be about that day of divide Lotrick had mentioned once to me. I know my dad used to be a part of the High Courts—at least, that is what my mom would say sometimes when she drank. Maybe something happened there?”

  “Hey, let’s figure that out when we get back from this training.” I nodded at him. He didn’t need my pity; he needed my support. “We’ll face it. Together.”

  Fern’s gaze flicked upward. “You’re right. It can’t affect me anymore anyways. Let’s keep moving. I trapped the chimera around here.”

  And with that, we pressed on, deeper into the void, knowing the chimera lingered somewhere in this fabricated world.

  Corrello materialized again, and the alleys twisted out from where we were. Everything appeared darker than reality. We walked down some steps that I had to strain my eyes to see. Once we got to the bottom, Fern tapped my arm.

  At the far end of the street, as if waiting for us, the chimera stood—lion mouth growling, goat hooves digging into the dirt, large bat wings folded on its sides, and a serpent’s head for a tail lashing with menacing rhythm. The chimera’s lion’s eyes glowed a molten gold, reflecting its trapped fury.

  A low growl rumbled through the air, so deep it made my teeth vibrate. I glanced at Fern, who stared straight back at the beast with clenched fists. A shared tremor of fear and determination passed between us. We’d come too far to back down. Fern pulled out his sword, and I looked down. Lightcutter had traveled inside with me to this memory. I pulled the dagger from its sheath and held it up.

  “Ready?” I asked, my voice tight.

  Fern nodded, taking one measured step forward. “It’s my fault this thing got loose,” he muttered. “I hid and let it run wild in your soul.”

  “Our souls,” I corrected him. He smiled, and we held our weapons firm.

  The chimera’s roar echoed off the warped walls, swirling dust into a stinging cloud. I could feel its presence like a pulsing heartbeat in my chest—an echo of the dagger that had forced the infusion. My body tensed, remembering the searing pain of transformation, the rush of bestial power. But I knew better than to rely on brute force alone; this was a battle for my mind, for my bond with Fern, and for the future we both wanted to shape.

  I squared my shoulders, forcing down the queasy quake in my gut. “Together.”

  Fern nodded.

  The chimera pawed at the cracked cobblestones, letting out another rumbling growl. It lowered its head, horns angled to charge. My heart thundered; adrenaline surged. Everything in the dreamscape sharpened.

  Fern inhaled slowly and deeply. “We end this.”

  I matched his breath, recalling Major Philip’s advice: Accept the beast and work with it—don’t let it rule you. A cold calm weaved through me as Fern and I lifted our gazes in unison. Our breaths matched. We took a step, same foot, same stride. We moved in unison.

  We faced the chimera head-on, and in that final heartbeat, we struck together.

  I opened my eyes with a jolt. I was surrounded by Major Philip, Laska, Bartholomew, Al, the beetles, and Waelid, who looked particularly pissed.

  “Can’t believe you beat me to it.” He scoffed. “At least we have you on our side,” I heard him say.

  “Look at you, my boy, congratulations, you have made it to level three of your infusion,” Al said, running to grab a long mirror he had found in one of the abandoned buildings.

  I stood up and quickly dwarfed the group around me. I was taller than them all by at least seven feet. The miners, who had several small campfire circles around us, looked at me with awe. My hands were larger and had sharp, thick claws on each fingertip. On the backs of my hands was golden fur that ran up my arms. My feet were replaced by hooves that gripped the earth. I heard a hissing sound in my ear.

  “Well, I was not expecting to become . . . this. I think I prefer your mind. Although the air feels nice,” Fern’s voice whispered in my ear. Then I saw where it came from. The snake tail I had was long and had white scales. It easily wrapped itself around to face me. And at the tip of the tail was a large snake head with curled goat horns. It was Fern.

  “So . . . you’re on my ass now instead?” I laughed and then froze. My voice sounded heavier. Deeper.

  “Here you are, lad!” Al ran up with a long mirror and held it up to me. My reflection was that of what I am sure everyone on Earth would have called a demon or a devil. I was a humanoid variant of a chimera. I had long, twisted horns that grew from my temples, folded wings on my back, and my green hair had grown into a wild mane.

  “That is the third level. The chimera now obeys you. See for yourself. Do you feel out of control?”

  “No,” I said, my voice echoing around me. “I feel . . . powerful.”

  “Good, now all that’s left is for Waelid to reach the third level, and then we will be ready to take on the floor boss.”

  I clenched my large fist and felt power surge through me. I thought about releasing the power, and then my body felt light and reverted back to its normal human form.

  “Haha! There you go, lad! See? It all just . . . clicks! Too bad you haven’t seen our forms yet, I am sure you’ll be in for a big surprise from Laska’s!”

  “Will you shut up, Al? Let the boy take in his accomplishment.”

  “Emergency!” Coren, the miner who came up with us to the second floor, ran up to us, yelling and waving his arms.

  “Hmm? What is it, Coren?” Major Philip asked.

  “The elevators, they’ve stopped running, and all lines have been cut down. There’s no way to get the pillardust down or us!”

  Major Philip raised an eyebrow and looked at Bartholomew. “Captain Bart, go find out what’s happened. The rest of us will continue as normal and address it when the captain returns. Miners, continue mining and store the pillardust near where the elevators will be.”

  An uneasy knot formed in my stomach. Something like this always meant bad news.