The polished wood baton shone as it swung through the air, almost sparkling as it impacted a jaw and sent teeth and blood flying. The recipient crumpled, whimpering quietly as Special Constable Winifred Buckshield strode over him. Any further thoughts of defiance were silenced by a low steady growl from the massive wolfhound at her side. The bar was bright in the afternoon sun, though the filthy windows lent the room a dusky quality. Silence reigned except the click of her boots as she strode into the centre of the small room and stood at attention. She turned to look at the patrons, some of whom she had arrested in the past for various petty crimes. Nothing like the big fish she was seeking. She kept her facing to the publican, he was already reaching for a weapon under the counter, and being none too subtle about it. She clicked her tongue towards him, and Culann barked once, deafening in the small space, and padded forward. The short fat man behind the counter wisely decided to keep his arms in plain view as the hound sat, eyes locked on the man’s throat.

  “Sorry about that gentlemen and ladies, please allow me to repeat myself. For those of you who haven’t met me I am Special Constable Winifred Buckshield, combat mage in her eternal majesty’s police force. The good news is today I am not interested in any of you, instead I am seeking a gang of murderers and rapists. Should any of you be able to assist me, I am sure it would be of benefit to you.”

  There was an angry silence, and she sighed. Dropping her formal stance and removing her helmet, her Majesty’s Icon embossed in gold leaf shining in the dim light as she scratched at her short hair. She stepped towards a table where sat one of the more familiar faces, though she continued to speak to the room at large.

  “Come on now my lads, we all know you aren’t murderers here, just cutpurses and petty thieves. There are much bigger crimes for us to be worried about, and far darker holes we need to be excavating. But the longer we think them boys are hiding out around here, the longer and harder we have to look. I know none of you can be seen to openly assist us blue boys, but I’m just saying, you give a nod in the right direction and maybe some reports on stolen wallets go into the dead case pile.”

  There was another silence, then, though she sensed a little less anger in the air. Eventually, with an exchange of looks, one of the patrons coughed. He of course couldn’t be seen to talk to her, but there was a subtle nod as she watched him drink, indicating towards a door behind the counter. She stepped towards the counter and raised the partition, but was stopped by the publican, the stink of his sweat quite strong as he stood in her way.

  “Can’t let you back here…uh…officer…” he said, his voice lacking much confidence.

  She looked down at him for a moment, and replaced her helmet before replying. “Frederick, it’s me. You know me, I grew up 4 doors down. So answer me honestly. Have you been threatened to prevent anyone opening that door, are you under duress?”

  “What? No, you know I’ll lose half my business if I can’t keep my…” he began before she cut him off with a roll of her eyes.

  “Frederick. Are you being threatened, or are currently under duress?”

  He looked up at her for a short while, his mouth moving like a caught fish before she saw understanding dawn on his face. He gave her a much too obvious wink and said louder than needed “Why yes I was threatened, and am under duress. Ain’t that right folks.” He leaned around her for the last sentence, shooting a glare at some of the patrons. There was a general murmur of agreement, and a beer drizzled “Threatened to shank his mum they did” from below one of the tables, followed by a kick and a pained yelp. No one was going to argue with the only publican in 5 blocks that didn’t water down his beer with urine. She rolled her eyes but gave him a fond smile. “Then it is my duty to intervene, please stand back.”

  He obliged, stepping back with his arms raised in a pose of mock surrender. She clicked her tongue again and snapped a finger, and Culann came and stood by her, dropping the fixed stare on Frederick. He sniffed under the door, and scraped one paw along the wooden floor repeatedly, leaving trails in the scattered sawdust. Someone inside then, several of them. She put her whistle in her mouth, holding it in her lips, drew her short sword in her off hand and gripped the baton tightly. She took a moment to pray to the Eternal Queen that Connor was in position, and whispered around the whistle the incantation for a bolt of flame. The pressure of the power built and released as the bolt materialised, the small streak of flame floated just over her shoulder. She held it just before release, like holding your breath while desperate for air, and kicked the door in, blowing her whistle and smacking the door frame with her baton as Culann barked and growled. She was just in time to see a shocked face at the window, reaching arms still in the room and held by a large red haired man with a strong resemblance to the one at the window staring at her in surprise. She loosed the bolt of flame at the man in the room and it caught him dead in the side under a raised arm. The man he was holding disappeared down, and she heard a thud as he hit the street below. She quickly strode over to the now prone figure clutching his side and swung a blow of the baton to the side of his head, leaving him still as she took a set of manacles off her belt and locked him to a water pipe. There was a small trickle of blood on the side of his head from the blow, she had to hope someone would be along shortly. She looked out the window and saw the man from the window limping away, supported by a second. 3 other figures were already well ahead, charging down the alley.

  She swore and sheathed the baton, drawing her small pistol instead. She emptied the magazine towards the fleeing figures but missed every shot. She swore again, she was always a terrible shot with the damned thing but it was much faster than any incantation. She looked out the window, it was at least a 2 storey drop to the filthy alley below. She focused on the incantation for a blast of wind and called Culann to her. His ears shrank back as he saw where she indicated, but he obeyed and jumped out, shortly followed by her. She held the spell until the last moment and released an upwards blast of air, just enough to reverse her and Culann’s momentum and make her stomach turn inside out. She took a moment to compose herself and hold down her lunch, and comforted the shaking wolf hound. Still a bit wobbly she took off in the direction the 5 had headed, thumbing a fresh rack of bullets into the pistol as she went and readying another fire incantation, this time a wave of flame in case of any corners hiding ambush. It floated ahead of her, a small roiling tangle that would unfold when she released.

  As she ran, she heard shouting ahead of her which quickly turned from one of anger and command to one of pain. She pushed herself as fast as she could, Culann easily keeping pace with her. Her blood ran cold and the breath got caught in her throat as she rounded a corner and saw Sergeant Krick flat on the ground, his blue uniform stained with a spreading darkness centred on the dagger embedded in his guts. She lost control of the flame incantation, but reacted in time to direct it upwards harmlessly. She let out a shocked “Sir!” and slid to a kneeling position beside him, reaching for the handle of the blade. He slapped her hand away and gave a racking wet cough. “Never remove the blade foolish girl, in Her eternal name who taught you on site first aid?” He gave another soft wet cough “Now get after them, can’t have them getting away with stabbing your superior officer!” He gave a tired looking smile, and she returned a nod and stood. There was only one direction they could have continued from there. She gritted her teeth and whistled a command at Culann, him leading the way now. She blinked away some small tears of rage, and readied another fire incantation.

  She turned another corner just in time to see the last 2 men, one still slung over the shoulder of another. They looked back at her and threw mocking smiles and obscene gestures, and threw themselves into a shimmering wall in the air. It was no teleportation or translocation spell she knew, but it couldn’t last long. Her training dictated that she stay here and try hold it open, or at least try and copy the incantation. Her anger instead propelled her forward, sprinting into the portal with sword and pistol drawn. Culann stood at the edge of the portal, whining and whimpering for a few moments before following her. In the empty alley, the shimmer faded, and left no sign of the chase.

  She landed heavily, on what felt like a wood floor. She spun herself into a kneeling position, her sword ready. Her other hand was empty, that felt wrong. She was sure she had been holding something but wasn’t sure what. She reached for her baton, thankfully still in its leather hoop on her belt. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, she felt like she could barely breath and her skull was pounding. She shook her head, and her vision slowly adjusted. When she could see she saw she was looking into a dark doorway, she could make out a small bed in a bare room. She spun around and saw a young looking man illuminated by a single candle before him, sitting at a table in a nightgown. He stared at her with his mouth mid-bite, the sandwich he had been eating slowly losing its contents onto a tin plate. They stared at each other for a few moments, until he let out a screech and bolted for the far end of the room.

  She stood, fell to her knee again and shakily stood once more. She still felt woozy, but in an unknown location the runner was needed. She heard someone’s voice in her head shouting “Foolish girl, never go through a portal alone, who taught you pursuit?” but couldn’t place the owner. She shakily headed after the runner, through a door through which she could feel the chill of the outdoors and see. She stumbled down some small steps leading out of what she now saw was a small log cabin, somewhere surrounded by trees, landing heavily in loose dry dirt. It was night she saw, the sky bright with a half moon and countless stars. She looked around, and saw the runner pinned in place by a massive hound not far away, rough and wiry grey hair raised as the beast stood over the cowering figure in the nightgown, a low steady growl pushing out through its bared fangs. She raised her weapons for a moment before memories opened in her mind and she recognised the wolfhound. She staggered forward again, falling to her knees just shy of the pair. “Culann, stand easy boy” she said with a click of her fingers. The hound raised its head, still growling, and bared its teeth at her for a moment and she shrank back, shocked. The moment passed, and the hound shook his head. The growling stopped, and his ears flattened back, his demeanour switching to apologetic. She gave a smile and reached out to pet him. “You’re okay boy, whatever type of portal that was left us both out of sorts.” Her throat ached as she talked.

  “Excusememiss” came a voice from the ground. She looked down at the young man, his face deathly pale in the moonlight, his voice tight and rapid. Culann still had both paws on his chest.

  “Pleasedon’tlethimeatmeifit’snottoomuchtrouble.”

  She looked down at him for a moment, taking his measure. He was a tall, thin man, barely out of boyhood and still baring some scabs across his cheeks from old spots. She sheathed her sword but kept the baton ready and clicked her tongue along with a finger snap, and Culann stepped off him, coming to stand beside her. He stood closer than normal, leaning against her enough to almost push her over from her kneeling position. He took a deep gasp of air as the pressure left his chest, though he made no movement to get off the ground.

  “On your feet, try to run and Culann will have your leg off” she commanded with a voice that sounded off to her ears, slowly standing using the hound to brace herself. Her head was still swimming. She watched him slowly get up, his eyes darting between the two of them, brushing dirt off his nightgown. He stood with his arms raised high, the sleeves falling down. “No worries there miss, not going anywhere” he said with a forced cheerfulness.

  “Where are we?” She tried to speak with command, but her voice came out croaky and hoarse.

  “Uhhhhh, about 2 weeks travel from Xrantha?” He seemed to be asking for her approval on his answer.

  “I’ve never heard of this place, how far from the capital?” her head was swimming worse now.

  “Uhhhhh, Xrantha is the capital?” he had a note of curiosity in his voice now, he began to slowly lower his arms but they shot back out as Culann let out a short growl.

  “No it isn’t” she said while she dropped her baton and gripped her head. “The capital is…it’s…why can’t I...the name…” she felt something rise from her stomach and flow from her mouth, and her chest grew damp. She was dimly aware of the earth rushing up to meet her, and knew nothing more.

  She sat upright as she awoke, looking around in a slight panic. The pain in her head had faded, and as she held a hand in front of her there was no shakiness, nor blur in her vision. She was in a small bed, it appeared to be the one she’d seen in the cabin. There was dim light coming through a small window, she must have been out for some time if it was morning. The door to the small room was closed, though the room was small enough there was barely room beside the bed for the door to open inwards. She was still wearing most of her clothes, her boots were by the bed and her coat was missing. She was still wearing the jacket and shirt of her uniform, albeit they bore a faint yellow stain that smelled of dried bile. She paused as she put on her boots, and tried to think hard.

  “This is my uniform, I am Special Constable Winifred Buckshield.” She furrowed her brow. She had no memory of where she had gotten the uniform, who had appointed her Special Constable. She broke into a cold sweat and doubled over on the edge of the bed, her head between her knees as her breath began coming in short rapid gasps. Her heart felt like it might burst free. She could scarcely remember a thing, there were no shades of memories, just blank empty holes where she knew she should have something.

  She was vaguely aware of the door opening and a muffled voice, but she couldn’t force herself to raise from her position. She felt a gentle weight across her legs, and Culann pushed his head into view. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the thick wiry grey hair. He at least was familiar, a small bastion of knowing in the dark of her mind. There was another hand gently laying on her back, and she was able to catch her breath at last. She could hear the voice now, the young man in the nightgown. She was able to raise her head, and she saw he had changed, he was now wearing some loose trousers with suspenders over a stained shirt. He was repeating “You’re safe, it’s going to be ok” over and over, but stopped when she gave him a look. He gently lifted her, and she allowed herself to be raised.

  “Best we keep you upright for a bit I think, I have some food ready.” His voice was calm and had a sing song quality, it sounded like he was forcing a heavy dose of comfort into it. She tried to speak in response, and coughed instead. Her throat felt bone dry, and her tongue sat like a lump of sandpaper in her mouth.

  There wasn’t far to go in the small cabin, just a few steps took them to the table he had been sitting at when she saw him first, her on a chair and Culann laying at her feet under the table. There was a tin plate with some plain bread and a bowl of soup, and a beaker of bucket of water with a tin cup. She greedily grabbed the cup and scooped some, but it was interrupted as she brought it to her mouth. He gently held her hands, and calmly said “drink slow now, you’ve been out for a while. Too much too soon will make you bring it back up.” He was right, she knew, but her ears reddened at being chastised in that singsong voice. She slowly sipped the lukewarm water, letting half mouthfuls rest before she took another. “I’m sure you have many questions, but you better eat first” she heard from beside her. He had pulled up a stool, but it was obvious the table was meant for 1 alone. He had nothing in front of him, and had to sit with his hands at his side, there was no room for him to rest them on. She finished the cup, and turned to look at the smiling face beside her. The smile was slightly too forced.

  “Where is my coat?” His face turned a bright red, evidently he was either hoping she wouldn’t bring it up or hadn’t noticed.

  “Ah, well, yes, it was quite, er, stained you see, soaking wet really. I thought it best to remove it while you rested. I would have removed the jacket but, well, your companion made it very clear he didn’t approve”, nodding towards the wolfhound. “He seemed to realise I was just trying to help so he at least didn’t growl, he seems quite intelligent. Anyways, I gave you the bed and slept a bit in the chair. The coat’s washed and out to dry now.”

  She paused, carefully chewing a small mouthful of bread as she listened. He didn’t gesture much as he talked, sitting stock still with his arms by his side and that rictus grin on his face.

  “Thank you. I slept through the night then?”

  “The night and most of the day, in fact it’ll be dark again in just an hour or two.” She sensed no lie from him. She continued chewing the bread and slowly swallowed, her throat still ached.

  “Has Culann” she gestured at the hound “eaten?”

  “Oh yes, I had some sausage and bread to spare for him, and an old pot he was able to drink out of.” He turned towards the last part, but snapped forward at a slight hint of growl. She smiled proudly. Culann was easy to buy off with sausage but he still had his training making him be sure their company was controlled. She furrowed her brow as she realised she had vague memories of his training but nothing about where or when it was. She pushed the thought away before it grew too heavy. She tried the soup, and spat it back almost immediately. It was ice cold. “Ah of course, let me heat that for you.” He reached for the bowl, flinching slightly as Culann growled again but continued. He took the bowl and placed it onto a small stove beside the table. He bent to the open grill hatch of the stove, looked inside and made a noise like a fire crackling, and she saw the glow of fire within the belly of the blackened metal. His hands had never left her view. He closed the hatch and started stirring the soup with the spoon. “Be hot again in just a moment.”

  She watched quietly, chewing bread and slowly sipping water. It was indeed just a short time before the soup was back, steaming gently. She tasted it carefully. It was bland with a weak taste of vegetables, but thick and warm. She took it gratefully, her stomach appreciating the gentle warmth. He watched her silently from the stool until she finished and pushed the bowl and dish as far away as the small table, the fixed grin always there. She turned to look at him, and began with “Please drop the smile, it’s making me uncomfortable.”

  “Oh” he said with a drooping face, and she felt like she had just kicked a puppy. “Well, apologies, the book said a comforting smile could help you adjust and not get agitated.”

  “What book” she asked flatly. She was still pushing away thoughts of missing memories, and anything solid to focus on was welcome.

  “Ah yes, just a moment” he reached behind him, no growls from under the table this time. He grabbed a book from the floor behind him and presented the cover. It read “On the treatment of common and uncommon ailments.” He flicked open and stuck a thin bookmark behind his ear, and read out loud. “Allow the arrival to rest as long as they need, their journey may have been a draining one. Offer them some water, neither overly warm nor overly cold. Do not press the mind with questions until the body has recovered. See next section on how to broach the subject of their new circumstances.” He seemed more confident with instructions to follow.

  She stared at him as he read, and commented “You probably shouldn’t read that last part out loud.” She tried to appear calm and collected, but there was a pit of dread growing in her guts. She turned in the stool to properly look at him face on. In a voice far more calm than she felt, she asked “so what, exactly, are my circumstances?”

  He coughed awkwardly and thumbed to the next page, eyes darting rapidly across the page as he read silently before he answered. “Umm, okay. So, I believe you may have noticed…gaps in your memory? Missing things you know you should know that simply aren’t there? My but that is written awfully.” She nodded quietly, and he took a small breath and continued. “You are on a continent we call Alat Klinth (in Tradespeech). The entirety of the continent is surrounded by a field known by many names (see Appendix F), appearing as a ripple in the air. Do you remember seeing something similar?” He paused there, looking over the book at her expectedly.

  She paused, and thought. A memory swam up from the dark. She had been chasing…someone. She turned a corner, and the people had ran into a…”Yes” she said aloud, “A ripple in the air. I jumped through, and Culann as well I must suppose.”

  He nodded approvingly, like a teacher to a student, and continued reading. “Read this section out loud, excepting underlined sections. Our continent is separated from other realms by this field. Any that pass through from this side never return, and all attempts to see, scry or otherwise detect what lays at the far side have failed for as long as records show. On occasion creatures or objects (See Professor Hilgswoth’s “A Complete History of Arrivals”, also available from this publisher, for a complete history) arrive on the continent, deposited all over the landmass. Studies of “arrivals” (see appendix G for other common terms) have lead researchers of the Ascension College to conclude that arrivals hail not just from a common land outside the field but entirely different realms with their own history and even laws of existence. All arrivals have been documented as missing large portions of memories, leaving at best only vague details of their places of origin, past and family history. Exposure to specific items or people may cause memories to return, though these are unique to each individual and impossible to prepare for each arrival. If your arrival expresses any attempts to use square bracket magic close square bracket (see Appendix H for other documented terms) exercise caution, on occasion their attempts may interact dangerously and unexpectedly with Words.” He coughed and quietly muttered (never did know how to pronounce those brackets), then looked at her nervously over the edge of the book. “Umm, I know it’s a lot…but…could you…do magic…if you can remember?”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  She stared at him, silently blinking and trying to process what she had just heard. She thought, and some memories flooded up. She saw dancing flames, under her control. A wave of flame clearing a path, a gust of wind slowing a fall. She heard the words in her head, rising out of the dark. “Yes, I could.” More memories flooded up out of the dark. “I was a combat mage in Her Eternal Majesty’s police force.” She stood up proudly, feeling more confident now.

  “Umm, who was the Eternal Majesty? Where were you based?”

  She thought for a moment, and flopped down in the seat, head flat against the table, all spirit drained. “I have no idea, and I have no idea.” She rolled her head on the table to look at him. “Do you have any alcohol? I am far too sober to deal with this.”

  He nervously smiled and shuffled outside. He returned with a glass jug, half full of some clear liquid. “The Peace man a half day down brewed these as a hobby, been keeping some since the last harvest festival.” She grabbed the jug and poured a measure, sniffing it and regretting that choice. It burned her nostril hairs, but it smelled somewhat like whiskey. She shrugged and downed the cup, gritting her teeth at the taste when she was done. “Okay, please continue reading.”

  He had been staring at her downing the cup, and stammered and found his place again. “Not much left, let’s see. ‘All arrivals should report to registration services at the Xrantha Merchant’s Guild headquarters, as they will be without any proof of their existence and most likely without funds. Programs are available to assist with placement and employment, enquire on site.” He turned the page, but read no more out loud. “Seems that’s it. Umm, how about I try answer any questions you have?”

  She downed another measure, the spirit burning on the way down. She stared at the cup for a short while, a multitude of questions jockeying for position, before speaking. “You seem very unconcerned by the mystery field keeping you in and kidnapping people.”

  He shrugged and gave her a blank look. “The field’s been there as long as anyone can find records of, and nothing anyone’s tried affects it. It never moves, it’d be like worrying about a volcano a thousand miles away. Only time most need to be concerned is when it spits out something like the Black Steel Legion.”

  Another measure was poured, though this one she passed to him. He took the cup, but didn’t drink. “Just going to ignore that new name for now” she said, staring at the wall. “So I’m somewhere far from home with no idea where home is, my incantations won’t work,” he perked up at that last word, and reached for another book, rapidly flicking through pages as she continued “and I’m just expected to accept it, and go register for work?”

  “Uh yes I think so” he replied bluntly, absorbed in the pages. He absently reached for the cup, and downed it in one go with a small cough, his eyes not leaving the pages. She poured herself another and nursed it, sipping from the cup and wincing at the taste. She was oddly calm now, seemed she was indeed accepting it. With no real memories she didn’t know what she wanted to get back to it seemed. She could kick and scream or get on with things. She couldn’t even be sure if the memories she had were true, technically. She drowned that thought with the rest of the cup, it was a short road to madness. She stood up, following an instinct. “My coat is outside you said?” he nodded, still absorbed in the pages. She headed outside, slightly unsteady as the burning drink began its work. She found it hanging from a rope hung between the cabin and a tree, dry enough to wear though cold in the evening air. She took it down and swung it over her shoulders. She thought about her outfit, starting from the boots.

  The black knee-boots were without heels, with rough grips on the bottom. “Not meant for riding, and allowing grip on different surfaces” she thought to herself. “My feet are slightly uncomfortable, they aren’t broken in yet”. Her trousers were warm and fitted well, handsomely dyed in a light blue shade. They fit her quite well, a thin black leather belt around her waist. A white shirt, hidden under a blue dress jacket with flat gold coloured buttons tucked in tight. She was modestly endowed but nonetheless it was slightly tight across her chest, but the sleeves were comfortable and sat well on her. No loose clothing, nothing that could be easily grabbed. Her hair was also clipped short, almost shaved clean at the sides and back with a small crop left on top. Again, nothing to grab onto in a fight or get caught on anything. She plucked a hair and looked at it in the fading light, blonde. That seemed right. The coat was more of a cape, a sleeveless wrapping that fastened over her shoulders and came down to her waist, a darker blue than the rest of her outfit. The clasp hung tight but released at a slight tug, not something that could be used to choke from behind. She was missing a helmet she realised, though she had no memory of what it looked like.

  She saw a basin of water with a stool and a scrubbing board nearby, a tin box of soap beside it, and looked down at her stained shirt and jacket. She removed both, thankfully her brassiere was unstained, and dropped both into the basin with some soap, letting her hands scrub as she thought. Her uniform fit her too well to be stolen, so she could assume her memories of a police force were real. She had enough instinct to investigate that and come to a conclusion, a good sign she had been trained somehow. She tried to lock down what she could as she scrubbed, running through what she could to gleam some truth about herself.

  She was interrupted by the young man sprinting out of the cabin, clearly excited and ignoring the barking Culann. He looked frantically for her, repeating “Incantations, incantations” in a feverish tone. She coughed to get his attention, and he snapped around so fast she thought he’d hurt his neck. He saw her squatting by the tub, down to her brassiere and turned a bright red, spinning back around and standing bolt upright.

  “Sorry miss didn’t mean to see you like that but you said incantations yes? Your magic was known as incantations?” he spoke fast with a desperate edge to his voice.

  “Yes, from what I can recall, though I’m not sure if I can remember much specifics.” She continued scrubbing as she spoke.

  He jumped clear into the air with a triumphant yell at that. “An undocumented system! Ohhhh I’ll make faculty for sure, no more talking with mushrooms for me!” He began pacing in place, muttering things to himself that she couldn’t hear. She finished the work, her shirt and jacket were clean at least, and hung them on the rope to dry. She donned her coat for modesty and warmth, and interrupted his pacing with a grip on his shoulder. “Care to enlighten me as to the reason for your excitement?”

  He spun to look at her, face manic with clear excitement. “I’ve been stuck out here for months trying to document a new Word via mushrooms, with no results. But now, ohhhhhh now, I’ve got, you’ve got I mean, a type of magic not recorded in the college’s archives.” He fell to his knees, his look now pleading “please, I need you to tell me everything you can, remember anything you can! I’ll do anything, I can’t go back to studying mushrooms all day!”

  She looked down at him, he was near tears now. Had he been more physically imposing she would have laid him out with her baton. “He’s shorter than me” she realised. “Wonder if I’m tall or he’s short.” She sighed and grabbed him by the arms, lifting him up. “Quite easy” she thought to herself, “He’s thin but I must have had regular exercise.” She stepped into the cabin, Culann following closely and said “let’s talk inside, it’s getting dark.”

  They sat by the table in the candlelight, and spoke. He spoke of a college of mages, researchers into all aspects of the world, though his rapid deluge of words flowed over her and little stuck. The parts she picked out were that he was a student, and that he needed a big discovery to return and be elevated to faculty, which came with many perks. Evidently if she could recall enough of her magic, that would count. He begged her for information as they shared drinks, emptying the bottle. Eventually she stood, and he did as well, a pen held before an open blank page in a book. “Right now, I need to sleep, and process things. I’m reasonably certain I may be traumatised. We’ll speak more in the morning.” She looked around. Do you have a spare bed, or..?”

  “Ah of course, of course, please, rest. You take the bed, I’ll sleep by the stove, I’ve fallen asleep at the table enough times.” He still had a frantic energy to him, and near pushed her to the bedroom, ignoring the quiet growls from Culann. “Let’s sleep and in the morning we’ll get started!” She closed the door without a word, and heard a slightly muffled “Can’t wait!” from the far side. She sighed, removed her outer clothing and laid on the lumpy bed, pulling the blanket over herself. It was thick and warm at least. She reached down to make sure Culann was there, and ran her hand through his wiry fur. She whispered “I’m so glad you’re here” and turned to face the wall. She clasped both hands over her face, and silently wept for a time before falling asleep.

  She woke up early, and found a hot breakfast waiting, along with food and water set in a lid on the floor for Culann. The young man was outside, and poked his head through the doorway as she stepped out. He still had the manic energy, and the bags under his eyes suggested a sleepless night. “Ah good morning! I was so eager to get started, I’ve had breakfast already, so please, take your time!” he near shouted, and went back to whatever he was doing. Cutting wood from the sound of it. She quietly noted to herself she hadn’t actually agreed to anything yet but remained silent. More sausage, bread and soup, all warm at least. She ate slowly, still trying to sort her thoughts. She felt like she should be more panicked, but there was an odd calm in her mind. Best to deal with what she could, she supposed. She couldn’t even remember why she had chased the unknown people through the portal, though she could hazard a guess, it was hard to be concerned by what she had no real knowledge of.

  He entered as she was finishing, and sat practically vibrating in the stool, watching her silently. As soon as she put down the spoon in the empty bowl he had the book and pen in his hand “So where shall we start? Do you remember how to use your magic? How was it taught? Does everyone…” he was cut off by an upraised hand.

  “First of all, we haven’t agreed to anything yet. Second of all, we haven’t introduced ourselves yet.”

  “Oh of course, I’m Gerrick Smithson, student.” He stuck out a hand, still practically hopping with excitement. She sighed and took his hand, shaking it.

  “Winifred Buckshield, formerly special constable. This is Culann.” Culann happily barked from below the table at his name.

  “Lovely to meet you both. So, about the source…” he was again interrupted by her hand.

  “Back to the first part, we have no agreement.” He looked heartbroken at that, and again she felt like she had kicked a puppy. She sighed “But, I see no reason not to help you, running through what I can recall will probably help me as much as it will you.” He perked up again, but she cut him off again as his open mouth drew in a deep breath to launch into questions. “As an addendum, we’re going to trade knowledge.” He looked at her curious now. “I’ll teach you everything I can about my magic, and you’ll do vice versa.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and held the pen ready. “Oh? You already want to learn our magic?”

  “Well, yes, of course” she responded, a little confused as he started writing. “Is it that surprising? Also, is it worth writing down?”

  “Any detail is” he said without looking up, “some records show mages that were indifferent, some were outright glad to be free of magic, viewing it as a curse. Have you tried using your own magic yet?”

  She blinked hard, and was stunned at the realisation the words brought. Why hadn’t she tried? Since she had arrived she had felt odd, like one of her senses was missing, but she hadn’t been aware of it until he spoke those words. “No, I haven’t. Didn’t even have the inclination to try. Hang on, let me see...”

  This time, he interrupted her. “Wait wait wait, let’s try outside. Some users have had rather, er, violent reactions, when trying to use their own magic here. Just in case.” She saw no harm in it, and followed him outside into the misty morning cold.

  They stood a short way away from the cabin, he a few paces away from her. “Okay let’s start with whatever you can remember, what type of effect are you going for?”

  She paused to recall before speaking, her eyes closed. “This incantation creates a bolt of flame that flies forward. It can be held for release depending on the users will and reserves.” It was like reading from a manual, each word left her mouth before she recalled it. It must have been drilled into her.

  He wrote as she spoke, and looked up with excitement shining on his face. “Interesting, I believe we have something similar but it’s quite a difficult combination of Words. Please, when you can.”

  She kept her eyes closed, and shook her hands by her side. Somehow she knew gesturing would help aim the bolt, but that it was not needed. She vaguely remembered a sense of pride at not needing gestures. She took a deep breath, and spoke the incantation, the words once more flowing from her mouth before she remembered them. She felt a great pressure build as she spoke, peaking as she finished speaking. She stood for a moment, long enough for him to interject with “Umm, is there more…” he was interrupted by her nose erupting with blood, a massive spray from both nostrils. At the same time she flew back onto the ground, her back arching in pain. He ran to her, the book and pen discarded, hesitating to touch her. “Oh gods, what happened? What’s wrong?”

  She struggled to speak, it was like her bones were trying to force themselves out of her skin. “Pressure…can’t…need to…release…can’t…” she managed, her teeth creaking as her jaws locked together.

  “Oh gods oh gods” he repeated, panic clear in his voice. “You said it was fire, let me try…” He made a noise like a fire crackling, similar to what she had heard yesterday, and he fell back as a large plume of fire erupted in the air above her, close enough to leave his face reddened. She felt the pressure immediately fade to nothing, and collapsed flat on the floor, breathing hard. Culann ran over and nuzzled her with a worried noise as she lay panting. Gerrick sat panting on the wet ground, staring at the air that had erupted into flame for a moment. He leaned over her, making sure she was breathing. “Are you okay, can you stand?” he asked, the panic in his voice clear.

  She nodded, and weakly said “Yes, I think so. Just, give me a moment.”

  He fell back again and gave a long deep sigh of relief. He looked up and half crawled for his cook and pen, shaking wet leaves off both. He wrote as she slowly sat up, pulling herself up on Culann’s side. He still whined and nuzzled her, licking her cheek as she assured him. Gerrick paused after a while and looked at her, both still sitting on the wet ground. “Umm, if it’s ok to ask now, what did it feel like?”

  She gave an annoyed grunt and took a deep breath, but she realised she needed to figure it out as much as he wanted to know. She still ached and her teeth felt out of position, she couldn’t do that again. “I ran through the incantation as ever, and felt the power grow as normal. But at the moment where it should have materialised the bolt, it’s like it got stuck. So I had all the built up power with nowhere to go, until you did...whatever that was.”

  He scribbled as she spoke, the pen rapidly scraping across the pages. He stopped, resting the pen against the book and looked up at her with a tired smile. “My turn for the exchange I suppose. I used the Word of Fire, just a spark’s worth. But it caught your build up and used it all up. I’ve heard of similar phenomena, some places have massive levels of local magic that can cause backfires.”

  She stared at him for a while. “There’s a lot you’re going to have to explain for that to fully make sense.” She wiped her face and looked at her bloody palm. “For now let’s put a pause on me using any incantations unless we’re sure you can burn them off.”

  “Agreed.” His upper body collapsed onto his legs, near folding him in half in his sitting position. “I think I should sleep, I didn’t get a wink last night.” He shakily stood up, offering her a hand from one knee. She took it and allowed him to help her up. She still ached but she was steady. She led him to the bed, and he was asleep in moments. She busied herself cleaning her coat again, putting on her shirt off the line and ignoring the dew soaking into it. She let him sleep for a few hours, waking him for a simple lunch and they spent the day in silence, him writing and her sitting outside, running through every train of thought she could to see what memories she could shake loose. At her insistence she spent the night by the stove and he took the bed.

  A few days passed, spent poring over books and exchanging ideas. Gerrick had insisted they focus on theory first to avoid any more risks, something she couldn’t much argue with. At last she stood in the same spot she had the tried the incantation previously, a crude target scratched onto a tree a short ways away.

  “Alright, just to go over it one more time.” Gerrick fussed around her like a mother hen, his book and pen stowed in his belt but his attention fully on her. “Near as we can tell and you can remember your incantations are like moulds, fixed shapes you pour power into, always the same result produced barring some fluctuation depending on how much power put into it, correct?”

  “Correct.” she replied wearily. They had talked over this many times over the last few days, she was quite weary of hearing it but she knew it was best to let him lead her training.

  “Right, so, Words are like, well, each Word is practically a language in and of itself. Our attempt today will be on the Word of Fire, which covers everything from a tiny spark to an inferno consuming a building and beyond. I believe when you attempted to use an incantation you built up raw power with no form, but were unable to release it in any way, which resulted in your body reacting violently. My use of a spark consumed that power, so we can take it that your power was primed for the Word of Fire but you were missing that last step. With me so far?”

  She gently rolled her eyes, but responded calmly. She had heard this over and over as he refined the idea for his journal. “Yes, a Word exists in the thing and can be fed easily enough, so feeding an existing flame is much easier than creating a flame from nothing. My power leapt into your spark, which is why it was much larger than expected.”

  He smiled like a proud teacher, beaming at her. She smiled despite feeling awkward, it had turned out she was older by a few years, 28 to his 22. Her instinct was to take charge as the elder but his experience and knowledge stamped that down. “That’s right, so, we’ll start with a basic exercise usually used to test prospective students. I believe you should have an easier time with these even if you can’t quite remember your training.”

  She waited as he stepped under the target and lodged a small makeshift torch under the target carved tree. She had tried to remember any of her training but it was another empty hole in her mind. She had the knowledge of at least some incantations but nothing on how she had learned. He stood back from the torch, spitting a little in the damp noon air. “So, when you can, try focus on the torch, just feed some power into it.”

  They had tried this in the cabin to some limited effect, staring at a candle. She thought she might have managed a flicker, but he thought it might have been the wind. She stared at the torch, feeling a slight flicker of power building. She held it at well below what she would have needed for an incantation, not wishing to repeat the painful experience.

  In the end, it was over 2 hours and 3 replaced torches before she managed anything. He had warned her it may take some time, so she stood in the chill and stared at the torch, willing it to ignite. A few times she lost hold over the power and he had to burn it off, her signalling him with a raised hand. Finally she felt something in her mind, and the flame on the torch flowered, releasing a large plume and burning out. She fell back onto her rear, exhausted while he dashed forward and bounced from foot to foot excitedly. “Oh well done, well done! I’ve known some students take a full week to get that far!” He knelt and offered her a hand up. “Are you able to continue, or need a rest?”

  She paused, and caught her breath. “A drink and I’ll continue I think.” She felt exposed without her incantations, and that small victory had her feeling bolstered. He jogged off to the cabin, Culann watching from the ground without raising his head. The hound had well settled in and barely growled at him anymore, bribed with enough sausages. She stared at the burnt out torch, and tried to focus some power into it to reignite it. She felt the power build but there was something missing, she was unable to make that jump and she felt the pressure building. Gerrick emerged with a cup of water, and jogged over when he saw her sitting with her arm raised. He burnt off the built up power, a small plume erupting over her head for a moment before handing her the water. “What were you trying?”

  “Reigniting the torch. It’s like I can feel the spark there but can’t quite reach it.”

  “Ah, well, think of that like the imprint of the Word. It’s faded without a flame but will have left a, call it a shadow, on the world where it was, at least for a while. But let’s try something else. Focusing on working with, umm, shadows, can stall your training.”

  She nodded, and allowed him to help her back to a stand. “So what’s next then?”

  “Well normally we’d have you drill on torches for a few days, but I think we can skip the drills as you’re technically trained already. So we’ll jump straight to some basic creation, flame creation is one of the fundamental offensive magics so it might be familiar to you.” She nodded, it sounded promising. “So, when you fed the torch, it should have formed an imprint of the Word you can access in your mind. Try and access it, and feed some power into it. It should effectively recreate the torch flame, even the same distance it had been from you.” She took a few moments and reached out, feeling for the shadow in her mind.

  In total, they spent 2 months at the small cabin, she honing her use of the new magic and him documenting everything he could about the old incantations. Eventually, they had sat down together and finalized their plans. Feeding 2 extra mouths had burned through Gerrick’s funds faster than he had planned for, and they couldn’t stay any longer. They had sat down with a faded old map, and plotted their respective courses. He would be heading back north and east, towards the Ascension College, and she west, to Xrantha to register and receive her papers. He had insisted they split the small funds remaining, they wouldn’t take her all the way but would at least allow her some supplies. She felt more scared than she had expected, she had avoided heading into even the nearby village, afraid of how she would react to people. But there was nothing for it, she legally did not exist and needed to know more about the continent.

  They walked a ways together, in silence. They had taken to sharing the bed, more for warmth and comfort than anything else, there was no real feelings beyond friendship between them. Still, she felt unsure what to say. The last thing they had said to each other was earlier in the morning when she had asked him to shave her hair. It had grown out in the time spent at the cabin, and she wanted it closer to her short cut before they left. He did the best he could with the straight razor, a rough hack job but close enough. They came to a crossroads marked by a faded and overgrown signpost, and she saw it was where they were to part ways. They stood together for a while, shoulder to shoulder, saying nothing. Culann sat calmly at her feet, panting slightly. Eventually she leaned away, and turned to look at Gerrick. She felt more confident than she would have without his training, her use of the Word of Fire had come along in leaps and bounds, though he had shown her that she was still well short of mastery. She smiled at him, which he had returned with the shine of small tears in his eyes, and they had leaned in for a short kiss before parting, no words between them. She strode off with Culann keeping close to her, freshly cleaned uniform shining in the early morning sun, and turned once to wave back. He still stood at the crossroads, watching her. He returned the wave, and then she turned a corner and a hedge hid him from sight.

  She walked on, occasionally idly petting Culann. Alone with her thoughts, her brow furrowed as she worried at some thoughts that had lain idle up in the cabin. She didn’t trust the situation she found herself in, there were too many conveniences. She had arrived somewhere safe with someone perfectly able to ease her into the circumstances and offer training in missing skills, even some companionship. She could attribute it to good fortune, but she was suspicious by nature. Someone had sent her to him, there was an intelligence behind her arrival. For now, she marched on, mentally going over the route they had plotted, headed for the dark column in the sky that even now darkened the horizon.