November (Monday)

One autumn morning rolled in with a chill that brought with it a certain finality. John leapt from building to building toward his apartment, intent on changing his clothes and splashing some water on his face after the work-partying bender he had gone on. In the past thirty hours, he had gone on five contracts, drank with two separate friend groups, and finished by watching Jenny perform in the Inferno.

Thoughts of her lingered on his mind as he rolled onto construction scaffolding unseen in the rising sun. He unequipped his battle gear save for his mask as he strolled down the ramps. He dropped down into the building's alley, safely out of view, and folded the mask into his belt buckle.

Since he had gotten his powers in July, time felt like a strange bubble around him. He traveled to different worlds every day, met new and diverse people. He had lived more life in the past few weeks than he had in years before, but every day was similar in that way. Summer slipped into fall unnoticed, and it seemed it would stay that way forever.

That is, until a snowflake lazily drifted down, occupying the same space as Cinder’s translucent body before him. It feels like you’re glad to be home, John. You should sleep.

What’s the point? Abigail and Jenny are both out, John replied, waving at a car as he crossed the street to his apartment building. He had frozen in the middle of the street as discordant notes sounded, but kept walking when he realized it was from an unseen bell and not his danger-sense.

Aren’t you tired? Cinder asked, drifting alongside him as he turned the corner to the entrance of his building.

Maybe a little. As long as I get some time to decompress while I travel to the next contract, I’ll be fine. John almost walked into the source of the noise, a Preservation Militia in a cheap Santa costume ringing a red bell and collecting donations.

The corpse of Halloween isn’t even cold yet, John thought as he stuck his hand in his pocket and summoned a stack of bills to deposit in the man’s bucket as he sidestepped it all.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped out of the elevator on his floor and into his apartment with no other interruptions. He splashed water on his face and rolled his shoulders as Cinder sent a pleasant warmth rolling over him. Not going to sleep, Cinder. I’m supposed to shadow Shelle in- fuck, five minutes ago. How long was I standing here?

You were spaced out for twenty minutes, if not more, Cinder replied, placing a hand on his shoulder, you sure you’re okay to work?

I’ll make a little more time to rest later. I don’t know where I’m going to get that time, but I’ll figure it out, John replied, re-equipping his battle equipment save for the mask as he walked into their bedroom and touched the Waypoint to the Rider-Waite dormitory.

From there it was a short walk to the mirror hub, where Shelle and his assigned contract awaited him. John turned a corner into the main room with several crowds moving between the mirrors.

I’m kind of short, for the Abyss, John thought as he stared through a group of humans and elves that had just come through the Jarako mirror. He projected a Mana Construct out of the bottoms of both feet to lift himself closer to seven feet off the ground, enough to see past the bustle of the travel hub. His eyes scanned over the white tiled ground and through the crowds, but Shelle’s purple robe was nowhere to be seen. It’s not like her to be late. Seemed like she was very early to the last one.

He cast his eyes to the less crowded ceiling. His passive Auric Vision revealed threads of crystalline mana running across the tiled ceiling above and along the walls to each mirror. They converged in the middle, wrapping around a glowing blue circle inscribed in the ceiling. He looked beyond it to a faint aura hovering in a corner opposite him, and with a start recognized Shelle doing her own sweep over the crowd.

Soon after he found her, her eyes locked onto the Jarako mirror. John followed her line of sight to see a small figure wrapped loosely in a dark robe exited the aforementioned portal. John had to squint to even make out that somebody had emerged at all; focusing his gaze directly on the traveler felt wrong, as if he was staring at the sun for too long. Indeed, the various civilians and guild members around the figure ignored it completely; one Five of Wands would have walked directly into it, if the traveler hadn’t sidestepped.

The urge to look away built to a crescendo until John thought he couldn’t possibly stare anymore, until the figure disappeared completely. John looked back to his mentor who wore a satisfied look, her lips moving as she cast some unknown spell.

She locked eyes with John and floated down toward him slowly with a small smile on her face. “You could pick him out of a crowd too? Impressive.”

“What was that all about?” John asked, looking around the transport hub for any sign of the man, though he quickly gave up.

“Taking care of a mistake. We’ve updated our magitech sensors and that smuggler’s pocket dimension wasn’t as hidden as he once believed,” Shelle explained, an arcane interface not unlike the Rider-Waite app on his cell phone appeared in front of her. It reminded him a bit of his Gamer’s Spirit, though her’s lacked any theming or coloring. She scrolled through it with a finger as she continued, “There are two other known instances of that man using our mirror services. He was a walking red flag; I’m a bit surprised our security hadn’t picked him out before.”

“So what are we doing now? Was that a part of the contract we’re going on?” John followed after her as she set off toward the mirrors. “I don’t have a ticket to travel, by the way.”

“Oh, it’s fine, travel for myself and my company is always free,” Shelle replied, taking his hand as they walked through a mirror on the center-left of the room. Though they emerged into a nearly identical room, the air felt drier, almost stiff. Looking around the smaller transport hub, some were dressed in regular clothes, but many were dressed similarly to the smuggler, in long, loose robes that wrapped around their bodies to provide shade.

“As for us, we’re going to be cleaning up after ourselves. Or the mistakes of our guild anyway.” Shelle leaned in close as she continued; in her eyes he could see his teeth grinding and he **** himself to stop. “There’s not going to be any money in it for you this time. You can leave if you want.”

“That’s okay. I’m here to learn,” John said. He was ready to explain himself when Shelle arched an eyebrow at him, but a tall man dressed in a silvery-red hooded robe stepped between him and the mage.

“Shelle, have you considered my newest offer?” he asked. John saw his hands were extremely pale when he placed one on the mage’s shoulder.

“I’m on the job right now, Hierophant. You must have known as much if you knew to intercept me here. And the answer is still no.” Shelle kept an even tone as she replied to the Hierophant, but John didn’t miss her shrugging his hand off her shoulder.

“I implore you to reconsider. The old man will not live forever, and you have quite the aptitude for teaching, few could fill my position with the effectiveness I believe you could. And Shelle…” the Hierophant’s hand brushed her hair, “we are among the last of our kind. Who else is there?”

“First of all, you will never be the Emperor, your subterfuge is unbecoming of a virtuous leader. There are others in the Major Arcana who openly display their good will to the people in this guild and out. Secondly, anyone else in the entire Dream. Or nobody. Not interested. Now, unless you have anything productive to add.” Shelle made a sweeping motion with both arms, and a rectangular portal appeared between them. The Hierophant huffed in offense, but before he could say anything more, the irritated sorceress ushered the portal forward to engulf him. “Leave me alone.”

John stood there with his mouth agape, and Shelle closed it with a fingertip to his chin before putting up her hood. “You can treat a member of the Major Arcana like that?”

“I would never, except for him or The Chariot on a bad day. Though his actions wound up vile, even Strength…” Shelle trailed off, and John remembered watching the goliath escape the Springfield base. He tried to picture the evil giant holding a conversation with the apparent paragon before him, but Lucille’s face flashed into his mind instead. “There will be repercussions, but I’ve been civil to him enough times. He could take the hint if he wanted to, and he doesn’t. Though we have our disagreements, I am loyal to the Magician. The future he envisions for the Waites is better for everyone than the self-interest the Hierophant obsesses over.”

They took two turns and walked out of the mirror hub into a seemingly endless desert. John’s uniform thinned around him, but wrapped around him tighter at his waist. It was still uncomfortably hot, but the adjustment allowed the light breeze into his clothes to wick the sweat off. John glanced behind and saw that the transport center they walked out of was the only building in sight. Some rubble to its side and a collapsed shop stall further back suggested that once there was civilization here, but only the Rider-Waites remained.

“You have some method of fast transportation, yes?” Shelle asked, levitating into the air. “Our first target has been spotted around this area, but we’re going to be traversing the desert for fresher signs.”

“Sure!” John replied, a small smile lighting on his face as he had the chance to use his motorcycle again. He pulled it out of his inventory and climbed on. Shelle took off in a burst of wind and he followed after, quickly catching up and surpassing her. She smirked back at him and amped up her flight, overtaking him every time he sped up.

Approaching speeds too fast to shout, her thoughts came into his head.

‘Nice engine. I’ve never seen anything quite like it before. Is it of Valvian design?’ Shelle asked as the desert disappeared under them.

It is, actually. Do you just know everything? John answered, his mask glamoured into its Valvian wooden frames as he raised a brow.

Shelle fell behind for a beat as she laughed, but surged forward on a burst of wind, slightly ahead again. Flight is essential in combat, but a magitech engine is often more energy-efficient. I’ve not come across anything high quality enough to consider that isn’t made by our enemies. Is yours unallied? Their work rivals that of our top Valvian technicians.

Funny you should say that, this is just a prototype. I’ve been thinking about what the finished product might look like, John said, barely swerving by a mast sticking out of the sand.

Right, well, if you see them again, give them this for me, would you? Shelle asked, waving a sphere of static air between them for him to grab the letter she offered with her other hand.

New Quest: Personal Relations or Guild Relations
You have spent a prolonged active period in a guild, and many of your actions have had positive results. You may attempt to recruit these people to your guild to consolidate power and drive your guild ranking higher up. You may also choose to take a more personal approach with the friends you’ve made, withholding the offer to join the Rider-Waites but gaining more of their trust. Perhaps to start a guild of your own?
Recruit or convince Phoebe Cross to ally with you
*Recruit or convince ????????? ????? to ally with you
Recruit or convince ?????? ???? to ally with you
*Recruit or convince ????????? ?????? to ally with you
Recruit or convince ????? ?????????? to ally with you
*Recruit or convince ????? ????? to ally with you
Rewards: 75,000 XP, discounted mechanic services and upgrades for your motorcycle or 150,000 XP, access to Phoebe’s fleet of stock motorcycles*
I’ll see if she’s interested,* John agreed, content with being honest with the friends he had made thus far, accepting the quest and grabbing the letter with the same motion. He pocketed it into his inventory as the possibilities for the rewards ran through his mind.

It could have been days in the desert as they soared across. Every so often John saw a smattering of houses on a desert plateau to form a settlement, usually with a water source closeby. At first they spoke of their experiences in the Rider-Waite, though she seemed to have an intimate knowledge of his contracts thus far. A ball of ice grew in his stomach as John reflected on just how many people seemed to know exactly what was going on in his life, though one factor drew his attention above others. How did you know I was the Champion of Gaia?

You mean other than your champion’s vision with Shango, I presume? The release of divine auras during such an event leaves quite the distinct trace, you know. Shelle glanced at him as she leveled off beside him, flying at his pace. For another, I had a feeling just by looking at you. The Magician studied extensively on the body and soul of the Champion of Gaia that he met long ago. Your predecessor in a sense. Gaia is no stranger to choosing a rogue champion among mundanes, and it has a transformative effect on the soul that matches you and how you express your aura. Not dissimilar from a Warden of the Golden Rose. Exactly identical when you’re both awakened in fact, as though you become a conduit for Gaia herself. Matters of gods and champions can often devolve to common politicking, but only select things about Gaia and her champions are known.

Didn’t know you cared so much,John joked, mostly to relieve the pressure of the microscope on him. Though she just rolled her eyes at him with a well-meaning smile. When he looked back to the horizon, he found it obscured by sand flowing in the air like a tsunami. To the left, right, and behind, it seemed ready to close in on him and suffocate them both.

Shelle gave brief relief when an aura of air surrounded her, cutting through the desert’s tantrum with a steady jet of air. Though it quickly went away as she flew away from him, speeding ahead and flying above as he slowed his engine, yielding to the low visibility.

Alright, the shelter is up ahead. The storm refuses to encroach on it, like a bubble. Go slow enough not to kick up dust, and stay quiet, Shelle ordered as he idled forward, a mound of white visible through the flurry of yellow-orange sand. The dune bulging out of the desert was oblong, it was thin and tall, as if deliberately made. He pocketed his bike as Shelle floated down to him, only a hundred meters away as he finally realized it was a collapsed head. A massive head with the eyes and mouth crude holes lay half-buried in the desert sands. Finer carvings showed much greater detail toward the center, but after years of wear little remained. Like the rest the neck was sculpted from sandstone, but the edges were carved with a fleshy texture.

“Was this a creature?” John asked under his breath, and Shelle tapped his shoulder, a finger across her lips.

There are entire civilizations under our feet. They wrote legends about gods which roamed across the land spreading lush green forests where there was once wasteland. She levitated just off the ground, and once he took a step forward, he felt himself doing the same. Together, they walked above the sands and into a lush oasis inside of the head. A vast pond of clear water cooled the room, and an enormous swath of leaves sprouted from the bank and trunks planted therein. Earth had similar legends, though many attribute natural phenomena to the will of gods which grew from their faith. Which came first is not necessarily the same everywhere, I suppose.

John’s eyes scanned over the forest until they reached a large, black and yellow orb in the middle. It disappeared into the leafy greens around it, then reappeared as yellow with a sliver of black. A juniper green dragon lunged from the bush like a tiger, prowling forward on long clawed talons that dug into the sand. It crawled a bit awkwardly once it neared and slowed, but as it drew up to tower over both of them, this made it no less imposing.

“Jiil drekimi lekar sia duil. Nomenoi re ti travelers. Svabol tir astahii dronilnr?” It let out a hissing breath with the last word and leaned down toward Shelle baring its teeth. John reached toward his guns and the dragon lashed at him with a spiked tail, but Shelle deflected the blow with a wall of ice conjured between them. “Shio drekimi weapons on me!”

The dragon’s harsh language became a raspy English voice to him, as Shelle’s aura flared up for a moment. The beast backed away and drew further up in response. “We mean you no harm. We were simply traversing the desert, and sought shelter here.”

“Very well. I can sense great power within you. If you mean to make use of my lair, then it is only fitting that you remunerate me for this service, especially considering your sudden imposition.” The dragon hissed the last word, slinking down low and backing up toward its hoard of water and greenery. “You may stay the storm if you can create more of my kind, or give me the means to.”

“You mean to say there are no more of you here? Why is that?” Shelle asked, cautiously approaching. She held out her hand for John to follow and he did, slowly and not breaking eye contact with the creature looming above them.

“There are few places we could thrive. I think there were others, once. If there were more now, we could create such places. I feel the lingering power of something great here, we could use it,” the dragon explained, eyes narrowing as it considered Shelle further. “What concern of this is yours?”

“I am ashamed to say it is beyond my power to create more of you. You yourself must realize this to be a near impossible task on its own, I suspect to get us to leave. But you have shown me what you want. You do not excessively terrorize the humans of this place. You’re surviving in the same harsh world they are. Many of them choose to remain, but for you there is ****. You’re right, you cannot survive here, you were never meant to, and you don’t have to.” Shelle put her hands together, and the neck clasp of her robe began to glow an electric, arcane blue. More specifically, the opaque blue gem in her clasp shone as a blue oval outlined itself into the air, a thin sheet of the same mana sliced through reality itself before turning transparent, revealing lush rolling plains within surrounding a pale blue lake.

The beast, eyes widening in greed and wonder, rushed through the portal with no hesitation, soaring toward more of its hoard than it had ever thought imaginable as the portal shut like an aperture behind it. At once, the sandstorm disappeared around them, and John’s gaze shifted from the closed portal to Shelle as he raised an eyebrow. “That was all you, then?”

“Well, it did give us an excellent cover to impose. Dragons are notoriously territorial but even more opportunistic. Once it saw us as a source of value, we were safe,” Shelle explained. “That was why we were here. With all our new captures, we’ve traced an extensive smuggling network through each use of our mirrors. That creature was smuggled here as an egg, fifteen years ago. This Kingdom was thriving a bit more then, it was in the second wave of teleportation mirror locations the guild added. Lucky we had caught it as an adolescent, an adult dragon wouldn’t be nearly as trusting.”

“What would you have done if it didn’t trust us, moreover, what exactly did you do now?” John asked, approaching Shelle as she fiddled with the faded blue gem on her collar, brushing over it with her thumb.

“Sent it to K66. There’s a dragon sanctuary there. And many thunders of wild dragons… oh, herds to you, if you want to call them that. I wouldn’t. I called up the sandstorm to give us cover and a deferential relationship dynamic to lead it to the best ending for all of us. I could have just killed it, I was authorized to if I needed to, but I think things are better this way,” Shelle explained, opening another portal between them. Through it John looked down upon similar rolling hills, but more importantly the distinct insignia of a Rider-Waite base built into the hillside. “I’ve got to recharge this at K66, so I’m going there now. I’ve opened the portal near a base, for your convenience.”

“Do you think you could open it up closer to the ground?” John asked as Shelle floated through the portal into the skies of K66. An exasperated look rolled over her face as she realized her mistake.

“Oh, right, you can’t fly. I can’t do that. Well, I can but…” She cupped her hands toward the ground below, and deep brown mana rolled off her fingertips as she lifted her arms; an earthen staircase leading from the portal to the ground rose at her call. “That’ll do, won’t it?”

“Yeah, thanks.” John laughed, stepping through and walking down the stairs as she floated alongside him.