Orphan At The Edge Of The World - 269 The Magician 27

“Woah! Awaken Gan!” the shadowy figure said.

The man’s form subtly shifted into a more recognizable one.

Once Gan’s eyes stopped fluttering, he said, “What do you want, shade!?”

The pact shadow huffed. “Hey! There’s no need for name calling… I came to let you know you’re on the wrong trail. You’re heading towards Piran but the person you spent your last lifetime with was Halda. She only looked like ‘White’.

The scout looked poleaxed.

The entity continued. “I was swinging by to pick up something from her. I figured that since you were on the way, I’d stop by and point you in the right direction. Here’s a marker, by the way. Oh, here’s the one for your eldest son too. I’ve already swung by there to give greetings and have a conversation with Oleander… Yeah, I was like ‘They aren’t sick of each other yet!?’ too.”

Gan said, “Are they climbers now?”

“Oh, uh, not technically. Oleander took her demigod mantle back up in Noxflora’s Sapphire Realm. She just took your boy along for the ride. Be sure to at least drop by for a visit. I know they’d be tickled to see you and Halda again,” the pact shadow said.

Looking lost for a moment, the scout finally said, “Thanks.”

The shadow chuckled. “Don’t thank me. Thank Orison. You know, the guy you completely forgot about while you were following Piran around.”

The morose man took on an even more pitiful look and said, “Tell him that I’m sorry. I… I only thought he was just one of Piran’s parts. I really didn’t know until later and-”

The shadow, suddenly sounding a bit nervous said, “Hey, don’t sweat it. I was just busting your balls. He was more upset about your nosedive, to be honest. Go find your boo, visit your past life munchkins and then go have a blast, man. That’s all he really wants.

“Tell him that he’ll always have a place in my house… no-no strings attached. Sometimes a man needs a best friend more than he needs a lover. I know it might not be the same but… Just tell him that,” The scout said awkwardly.

The shadowy figure gave a sloppy salute and said, “Righty-o! Well, I better be on my way. A pact shadow’s work is never done. Really. It’s a twenty-four, 365 kind of gig. But the perks, you can’t beat them.”

After they parted ways, a spiritual communication came from the phantom key resting unseen in the pact shadow’s hand, “That was highly unnecessary and kind of inappropriate.”

“Yeah, I felt that you weren’t happy about my ad-lib. But… aren’t you kinda glad I did? I mean, he just wants his buddy back,” the shadow said with jittery hopefulness.

The pact shadow thought about it and said, “I’ll probably revive in some seedy ashtray of a reality, find some evil dominatrix type and simp my way to destitution and despair again… Keep me marked. I plan on becoming a return employee.”

Wryly, Orison’s soul projected, “Well, it’s nice to know you have a plan. If you stick around long enough to train a couple of juniors, you’ve got a deal. Got to keep my Ponzi scheme going… I joke. I try to be as fair as I can… As an insider, what do you think of it?”

As the shadow zoomed through ‘no-where’ they said, “You give a sad-sack nobody a little power to throw around in life and put them to work afterwards until they pay it back. You give them a chance to earn some extra if they want to stay on afterwards. If they aren’t idiots, then they won’t even be a sad-sack in their next life. They’ll start off a little special.

“Yeah, it can get dangerous. Sure, some of us have poofed in the line of duty. But overall, it’s a moderate risk, moderate reward setup.

“It can kind of suck on this side of things. We can’t do much more than whisper and zip around the ‘no-where’ but we have a club house to hide in and all the peep show-er- live action drama we could want… I only feel sorry for the ones that choose a sad-sack who stays a sad-sack after they get a little power. That’s got to be boring as hell.”

Orison projected, “Thank Bob for Cat. I’m glad she helps me with employee spill over and you guys with power brown outs when I’m on downtime. I kind of wondered how the patron thing worked out when its a full time thing.”

The pact shadow said, “Well, she made her own little clubhouse in the astral plane and runs it god style for the most part. A little slice of personal paradise. I imagine she’ll get tired of it eventually and pass the torch in a few thousand years.

“Don’t worry about her sniping me, though. You’re a lot more relaxed and casual. Her outfit is way too business-like for my taste.”

Some silence went by and the shadow added, “You sure about this next part?”

The soul in the key said, “Yup. When I give you the signal, pop the pages on me and scuttle me across the reality splay line. My realm will draw me back with the help of my key and anchor with my main self.

“I want to see what kind of setup Lily and her sister made for me. If it’s good, I might go along with it. If it isn’t, I need to wait until a good time to trigger a gray mud rebirth. Either way, I need to make sure my main self won’t accidentally suck some rando into my Tower’s realm with me.

“Not to pat myself on the back but how smart was I to invest my earned power of existence into an ‘avatar’ for my conduit? I can’t believe they let Gnarly suck me dry and break my key! I would have been completely screwed!”

The shadow seemed confused. “Aren’t you kinda screwed anyway? You’re almost starting from scratch.”

“Not really. First of all, I have a kernel of law. Secondly, I still have you and the other two pact shadows. Most importantly, I still have my key,” Orison announced.

The shadow said, “This version of you is most likely going to be scrapped and shredded by the pages. You’re going to forget so much.”

Orison sighed. “I need a REAL fresh start anyway. The most important things I’ll still remember but I’ve done so much just to duke it out with Gnarly that I’m worn thin. Friends, family, loved ones; they’ve all moved on for the most part. It’s my turn. If I run into someone I need to remember, my key will help me.”

The shadow said, “How did you make such an awesome conduit? From what I’ve learned, you can’t make one that can do stuff you can’t.”

The key bound soul said, “I can, though? First, you start life as a flying spaghetti monster and get almost completely obliterated a few times. Later on, you have a mom who’s actually hundreds of thousands of people connected to the same soul core. You need to spend a couple of times being a hundred or so people yourself to really understand how to use it, though. It’s technical.”

The shadow had nothing else to say.

The soul added, “I’m just trolling you, Shades McGee. I’m fairly certain I started off as one of who knows how many souls spawned from the obliteration of the flying spaghetti monster. The astral siblings just accidentally collected a seriously important soul core piece of the outsider my soul came from and grafted it into mine.

“It was compatible because… I came from it. It’s all uphill from… Who am I kidding. The tower realm is… mixed blessings, at best.”

After a moment of speechlessness passed, the shadow asked, “So, it could have been anyone, really?”

The soul projected, “No. In the beginning of this crazy rollercoaster, I was specifically targeted because the exact moment of my death was easy to control. Although, it’s theoretically possible that anyone could have been chosen. I’ve been thinking there were other hands manipulating things at the same time. If so, I was just the right combination to serve all levels of manipulation.”

The shadow said, “You were born special, then?”

Orison mentally sighed again, “Maybe but not in the way you’re suggesting. I was the perfect combination of personality quirks which most probably wouldn’t find THAT flattering.”

“So, you were a sad sack like me?” the shadow said.

Giving a mental bitter chuckle, Orison said, “Who knows? In some ways, I may have been more of a sad sack. The point is, I was what was wanted at the time. Luck, tragedy and finding the survivable spaces between powerful manipulations got me here.

“But, I’m not the person I started out being. Not by a long shot. In fa- Holy sh*t! They found a reincarnation shadow-er- echo. I assume they helped it to form a loose core and became a splinter of me!”

The pact shadow said, “Okay… Tell me when you’re ready to get tossed.”

Orison projected, “Let’s wait for a little while. They just shoved my soul into the splinter while he was sleeping.”

In what was only about an hour of personal time, several days went by where the main soul had been forcefully transmigrated with not a single change noticeable. The upgraded splinter carried on, completely unaware of how much they had changed internally. The young mage’s avatar chalked it up to how damaged the main soul had became. The splinter’s paltry addition barely filled the cracks but had a complete personality and life experiences.

While the pact shadow and the avatar watched through the key’s connection, they saw the relatively mundane person interact with the people around him. His family was so dismissive, it was almost child abandonment. His one close childhood friend had cut ties years ago once the guy started shooting up and became some kind of high school sports star. There were other friends but none in the same year as Orison’s new vessel.

The pact shadow was getting nervous about lingering around so long in a single part of the ‘no-where’. Orison agreed. He limited the wait to one more hour personal time or the slightest sign of activity in the ‘no-where’.

It took less than ten before both the pact shadow and Orison became somewhat surprised. They watched what seemed to be an average day at school go horribly awry. But it wasn’t just there, the whole city was experiencing a horrifying magic circle reaping of some kind. Swaths of people were getting transported to a nightmarish and labyrinthine ‘elsewhere’.

Orison started mentally laughing. “It’s a First Family mass abduction! It looks like it includes some kind of vetting process. The survivors will be the new human inhabitants of some controlled world… What in the…”

What awaited the Freshmen class after their abduction wasn’t some kind of game-like winnowing. It was an outright massacre. The creatures on the other side were waiting for them. Whatever Lily and her sister had envisioned for Orison’s new beginning, he hardly imagined that this was what they had intended.

There was a strange but unsettling shifting of people and events, even as the Orison avatar watched from inside the key. “Causality! Someone or something is shaking up intended order!… Oh my gawd. The world those kids came from just ceased to exist. They’re trapped in there with no connection to anywhere else.

“I would say they were lucky because they’re in a half ‘no-when’ but its a fish barrel. The freaking extra-dimensional maze there in has properties similar to my key! It’s drawing in splinters and such from elsewhere and when the poor kids are killed, the place harvests their essence.

“Change of plans. Remember that cave by the cultivator’s garden? Take me there. I’ve ear marked the exact moment I’m going to jump to my main body. Just slap the pages on me and toss the key out into the garden. The cave is a ‘semi ‘no-when’ just like that maze. I can’t do anything about what happened to the world but I can do something about the kids.

The shadow was perplexed but followed through. Once they had arrived in the cave, Orison’s avatar shouted for the shadow to hold off a second. He had noted that Arazmus had been left sealed in some kind of formation and had been stripped bereft of his dragon bloodline.

The only positive was that Arazmus would pass away in whatever pleasant dreamland illusion he was in, unaware of the theft that had left him unable to use magic or cultivate. The worst part was that the woman hadn’t broken her oath at all. He would likely be very safe in the cave for a hundred years and the essence trapped within the formation would leave the suspended man in perfect health until it ran out of power.

The avatar laughed darkly. “Put him in the key. That b*tch played word games with the wrong person on the wrong point in his life… Oh, yeah. After that, nothing’s changed. Slap me with the pages and give me a toss.”

Letting out a highly put upon sigh, the shadow did as they were instructed.

***

Orison’s mind was a blur. There were multiple pillars of light followed by a dragon and barrages of lightning. In the haze, someone tried to get clothes on him and kissed him on the forehead before disappearing. There was a lot of disappearing. Even he himself disappeared and wound up unconscious somewhere for awhile, his mind desperately trying to organize itself.

Unsure of where he was or what was going on, he placidly followed a group of people who woke him up with a kick. He wasn’t even sure who he was but two names stood out in his mind and one was much more concrete. The fog he was in lingered, making him feel and seem to others as if he was simple.

That simpleness saw him pass from person to person until he was in a room with a couple of others, linked with chains. Somewhere along the way, he had been sold into slavery. There were events that happened during those short days that he let pass through his overworked mind like a sieve, too horrid and painful to want to remember. There were some that he clung to, however.

Among the other slaves, there was another boy but this one was different. There was a building fury in his eyes. Orison worked what little herbal lore had surfaced in his mind and a trickle of healing gift that had awakened in him on the boy. More than aware of the importance of keeping Orison’s secret, the boy showed his gratefulness by keeping him safe as he could.

And when a charismatic mercenary leader came to buy the boy after he had killed his own slave master, the boy talked the man into buying Orison too. The boy, Grit, flourished in the trade of violence and extended some of his earnings to outfit Orison with herbal simples for the foggy headed boy to make a place for himself as well. Although, he only ever used his gift for Grit.

In a short two years, The mercenary band grew in renown but also ran afoul of some nobles hot to see them destroyed. The leader fell afoul of a nasty plot. Grit lead the last of the loyal member from the band to save the leader but it was too late to be much good. Their leader had been tortured and mangled beyond belief.

In desperation, Grit turned to Orison and asked him to break the secret held between them. His friend and protector over the past two years asked him with wet eyes filled with unshed tears. Knowing the dangers but not wanting to disappoint the young man, Orison did what he could.

Little did either of them know that a demon’s temptation had taken root in their leader’s heart. That demon coaxed and seduced the broken leader into making a diabolical ritual and his loyal band was part of the offering to receive his vengeance. A young man with a spiritual gift was perfect fodder. Orison might not have fought too much for himself but Grit had been dragged into it as well.

Drugged and in pain from a brand, Orison struggled his way to Grit even as the young man threw himself into trying to free his other friends. Powerless against the demonic forces that had them captured and was torturing them, slowly they were picked off one by one as a chalice filled with a portion of their spirit and lifeforce.

Neither the protagonist nor the antagonist of the fiendish drama had noticed that the demonic minions that attempted to claim and slay Orison were devoured instead. In fact, at one point, the demons mistook Orison for one of them as ribbons of inky void danced across his features. He slowly closed in on his friend and their one time savior.

The previous mercenary leader taunted and humiliated Grit as enough sacrifices had died to fill the chalice. At the moment he was ready to drink his fill from it, the hideously scarred man gave a lethal slice across Grit’s neck even as the minion demons began tearing the young man limb from limb. Seeing his one and only friend in the world dying, something finally broke free in Orison.