“Sir's vitals are strong and stable, Madam,” Jordo reported as he scanned David, who had settled down on a roll-up mattress in the moon chapel.

  Niala, biting her claws and forcing herself not to interfere, watched as Leandro approached David and handed him the Phantasmal Death poison that the catkin had brewed this morning. In her cargo cloth were stored every possible antidote and healing potions she could think of, and then one of every other kind of brews she had, just in case.

  David nodded at Leandro before turning his sight toward his fretting girlfriend, and, giving her the most reassuring smile he could, popped the bottle open and drained its contents.

  The taste was... minty? A poison meant to give someone a heart attack wouldn't taste minty. That had to be Niala's touch, because of course she'd make the poison he was going to drink taste good.

  His smile had grown a bit wider when he felt his mind cartwheel into a bottomless pit. And then it kept going past the bottom.

  Right away, a thousand years later, in the past, darkness peered at him.

  His eyes, all of them, snapped open, and he peered at himself in the darkness.

  His many selves peered at each other.

  His many eyes blinked.

  He had two eyes. He was one David.

  Was he dead? No, death would be safe. This was... wrong.

  He was prone on the... flatness underneath him. There was no ground. There was an up. He got up to his knees.

  He looked around and saw nothing, because it was dark. He looked down at his hands, his body, and he could see it. It wasn't dark, it was just empty.

  His giant parents came walking out the groaning iron gate, glaring at him with furious disappointment, and chased him away like he was an insect crawling in their living room.

  He ran through the door, through more doors, through infinite doors, into the forest, alone. He ran after someone, but he couldn't see who.

  The trees became larger, his steps shorter, his breath shallower, his strength weaker.

  He was younger, smaller. Alone in the forest, beasts prowling at the edge of his vision.

  The beasts wore robes, wielded scalpels, and chased after him with metal bands to bind him tight.

  His feet caught, and he stumbled forward onto a cold metal table. He was unable to move, his limbs locked in place by shackles that dug into his flesh.

  “Mom! Dad! Please! It hurts! Stop this!”

  He could see them, past the robed monsters, motionless, faceless. With a single word, they could stop all of this, but they had no mouth.

  The men stroked his young skin with hands of blades, scrawling lines of blood that twisted and turned and felt like fire.

  He yelled for help, and the monsters frenzied, skittering their razored fingers across his flesh.

  He screamed in pain, and the pain plunged its serrated claws into his body, peeling his skin back like petals on a blooming flower. His flesh, parted like a butchered pig. His organs, lifted and displayed like trophies. Every part of him held open with taut strings, stretched like a canvas, upon which the shadows inscribed a manuscript. One made of runes that hurt the eyes when seen, forming words that hurt the mind when read, stringed into a text that hurt the soul when completed.

  He tried to scream, but he had no more voice.

  He looked at the pitiful boy, a living carcass, on the operating table, glad that it wasn't him.

  “You are him.” A cracking voice said.

  He turned and found a small boy, his body spread apart, held open by strings that reached into infinity. His lidless eyes stared at him, unblinking. He could see his bones, tendons attached to flayed muscles.

  “Clearly, I am not.” David countered. “I'm here, and you are there.”

  “You were him.” The boy croaked.

  “Not anymore.”

  “You stopped being him.”

  “That's right.”

  “But you're still him.”

  “No.”

  The boy's bony finger rose and pointed beyond David.

  Turning around, he saw... nothing.

  He looked down at himself. He found his body hanging in layers, his organs hanging by blood vessels. Panicked, he went to grab them, push them back into his body.

  His arms didn't move. They were clamped to a metal table.

  He screamed.

  “We have to wake him up! He's been screaming non-stop for ten minutes!” Niala shouted, trying to untangle herself from Leandro's arms, an antidote in hand.

  “Girl, the golem says he's fine. He's just screaming!” The big man said, straining to hold back the diminutive catkin as she struggled to get free.

  Jordo piped up, his voice as cheerful as ever, “Mr. Leandro is right, Madam Niala. Sir David's vitals are still stable. His heart rate, while high, is well within acceptable limits for a man his age.”

  “But he's in pain! You can hear it in his voice!” She yelled, voice trembling with despair.

  “We know, girl. That's the whole point.” Leandro said, finally getting a lock on the squirming girl.

  David kept screaming, eyes open but unseeing. Niala's body slumped, tears welling up in her eyes. “David... please...”

  She couldn't finish her thought.

  David looked at himself looking at himself.

  The monsters wearing the skins of men were massed around him, silent and still, their faces hidden under clear masks.

  Beyond them, he caught glimpses of a small child with long chestnut hair, darting around. A young girl.

  The boy spoke, his voice clear and childlike. “You remember her.”

  “Remember who?”

  “The girl.”

  “Who is she?”

  “You know who she is.”

  “I don't.”

  “You don't want to know who she is.”

  David frowned, his head... heart, hurt. It hurt so much. Tears surged from his eyes, but he did not cry.

  “Why does it hurt?”

  “Because you did something you want to forget.”

  “What? What do I want to forget!?” David asked, frustration inflaming his words.

  “What's her name?” The boy asked.

  “I don't know.”

  “What's her name?” The boy asked.

  “I don't know her name!” David shouted.

  “What's her name?” The boy asked.

  “I don't want to know!” David yelled.

  “What's her name?” The boy asked.

  “ANNABELLE!” David screamed, his body deflating. “An- Annabelle, my little sister...” He whined.

  His tears were cold and burned his eyes.

  “What... what happened to her?” He asked, voice quivering.

  “You killed her.”

  “I... no. I didn't. My mana did.”

  “What happened?” The boy asked.

  “She... she snuck into the operating room at night, when I was resting and the room was empty, to come see her brother. When she saw me, carved up, opened, she screamed. Not out of fear for herself. Out of fear for her brother, who was in a horrible state.” His lips trembled, the words hurting his throat.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  “And then?” The boy asked, curious.

  David didn't want to remember, but he couldn't stop. “She ran for me, and the arcanosurgeons on duty ran in after her. I startled awake, and I saw the monsters with the masks running for me, hands reaching, grasping. They were coming for me. I was so afraid.” His voice splintered, strained.

  “And then?” The boy asked, wanting to know the rest of the story.

  “And then I... I wanted them to go away. And my mana, it surged, and it pushed them away. It pushed their souls away. It... it snuffed my sister's life away.” He whispered on the wind, eyes unfocused.

  “My mana.” His mouth snarled. “My mana did this! I need to control it, so it doesn't happen again!” His words raged. His eyes remained blank.

  “You did this.” The boy said.

  “No, it was my mana. It's wild, it wants to control me.”

  “It only answered your call when you wanted them to leave.”

  “I...!” David attempted to deny.

  “You have always been its master; before, now, and forever.”

  “I...I...” David fought for a thought.

  The boy's face was inches away from his, his body strapped to a table that hung above David's. “You told it to go away.”

  David's eyes focused on the boy's. “It was dangerous!”

  “You didn't want it.”

  “It had killed my sister!”

  “I locked it away.”

  “It had only brought me pain! It had brought the scalpels! It had brought death!”

  “Even now, I don't want it back.”

  “I could hurt other people I love!”

  “But I need it to live.”

  “What do I do?!”

  “I learn to control it.”

  “To control the monster?”

  “I am the monster. I control myself. Every part of myself, even the part I don't want.”

  “What if I can't?!” David asked, pleading.

  “Do I have a choice?” David asked, tilting his head.

  David looked away, unwilling to answer himself.

  He saw his reflection on a razor-flat plane of dark water.

  His reflection was a wisp.

  He looked down at his body, whole, floating over the water. His sight returned to the wisp.

  It wasn't a reflection. There was a light, deep, so deep, under the surface.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No,” The water replied.

  He plunged without so much as a ripple in the water.

  He stared at the light. It seemed infinitely distant, his dive never-ending. There was no cold, no warmth, no air, no sound, no colour.

  There was blackness, and the light. Was he still going down?

  The light flickered. Something had moved in front of it, occluding it for an instant.

  He moved faster.

  A shape, surrounding the light. It was sinuous, massive... scaly? The light, a tiny egg, surrounded by a mountain of scales.

  The wisp grew in size as he approached, floating down, coming to a stop before it. It wasn't tiny at all; it was four times his size. Eyes wide, enthralled by the sight, he reached out with a hand towards the wisp.

  “Do you wish to have it back?” A deep, primal voice rumbled.

  David flinched away from the light, head swivelling, attempting to locate the source.

  “You told me to keep it safe.” The voice said.

  “Who are you?” David asked, still scanning his surroundings. “Where are you?”

  “I am here. Look at me.”

  He looked up, above the wisp. His eyes went wide, his pupils contracting.

  A gigantic, draconic head, covered in dark blue scales, at the end of a long, powerful neck that didn't end, massive gills arrayed on both sides, and armoured fins fanning out along its body.

  The creature's black-and-blue eyes stared at David, patient, waiting, deferential.

  The thing's head came closer. “Do you want it back?” It asked again.

  “Wa... want what back?!” David stammered.

  “The thing you asked me to keep safe.”

  “What was it!?” He demander.

  The monster's eyes looked... sad?

  “I do not know. You told me to take it with me and keep it safe when you banished me here.”

  “Ban... are you... My mana?”

  “I do not know.”

  “What do you know then?!” He asked, annoyed at the back-and-forth. His head hurt.

  “I know I was here when you drew breath for the first time, and I know I wasn't there before that. I know I have been with you since then, and I know I will be with you until you are no more, and then I won't be here anymore.” The thing said, its voice calm, toneless.

  “Then you are... my mana, I think,” David said.

  “Then, that is what I am.”

  “You're supposed to be on the surface. On an island.”

  “I am a creature of the sea. I do not belong on land.” His mana replied.

  “Everyone has an island.”

  “Then, the sea floor is your island, and I am upon it.” It suggested.

  David's head snapped down, toward the ground. There was land. It was underwater, but... he could see the peaks and valleys, the coral that stood for trees, the verdant algae in place of grass. He could feel the water current instead of the winds...

  This was his island? “Does it end? The sea floor?”

  “I do not know.”

  David groaned. “You're not very knowledgeable.”

  “I am sorry.” It said, despondent.

  “Ah... huh, no, it's ok. I don't know either.” He said, repentant.

  “...Thank you.”

  They remained silent, the creature, his mana, observing its master, while David attempted to make sense of it all.

  He addressed his mana once more. “If you're my mana, and you're so docile, why can't I control you?”

  The monster tilted its head, its movement ponderous yet fast. “You haven't asked anything of me since you banished me here, with the light.”

  David's head spun. “What? But that's not possible. I've clearly used mana.”

  “Then... if I am your mana, what you used wasn't your mana.”

  “How is that possible?!” He exclaimed, before raising a palm up at the monster. “Wait, I know; you don't know.”

  His mana nodded, appreciative.

  David grabbed his chin and pondered, coming up empty. His head hurt.

  “I need to ask Leandro. Maybe he'd know...” He looked up at the creature. “But you, you need to come back up to the surface, so I can use you properly.” He said, pointing at it.

  “Call for me, and I will answer.”

  “I have been calling for you!”

  “You have not. I hadn't heard your voice in a long time.”

  “Then, how do I... don't bother, you don't know.”

  “I do know.”

  David's brow creased in annoyance.

  “Tell me then.”

  “You need to call me.”

  “But I've been doing that!”

  “You have been calling mana. You need to call me.”

  “How!?”

  “Put your hand on me. Touch me, re-learn what I am, what I feel like. Call me.” Its voice was yearning, insistent.

  David did not move. The thought of touching this... thing... It repulsed him. A shiver ran down his spine.

  Not repulse, scared him. What if it was lying? What if it was playing innocent, but would gobble him up the instant he let down his guard? His head hurt.

  The creature remained passive, eyeing him with a deep, piercing stare.

  Do I have a choice?

  Swallowing, he lifted a hand toward the creature's snout, slowly, haltingly. His body rose, floating closer toward the monster.

  A few inches away now... he was sweating, his panic was swelling up. It could open its mouth and eat him whole in the same motion if it wanted. His head hurt.

  His finger brushed against a scale.

  His eyes exploded.

  When David came to, he was staring at a clear blue sky, complete with wispy clouds lazing about. Which was weird, as he clearly remembered his eyes exploding and going blind.

  He was splayed on his back, resting on something wet, hard, but with the slightest of give.

  He blinked and looked around, and wasn't all that surprised when he saw a giant sea-dragon head staring at him, with receding worry in its eyes.

  “You are awake.” It rumbled, relieved.

  “I... am. My head hurts.” David said.

  “You have been here too long, I think.”

  David snorted. “Now you know things?”

  “When we connected, I remembered a lot, and I learned more. I think we had been separated in more ways than one.”

  And David could feel it. A connection, deep within him. This was his mana. The idea that it might want to hurt him seemed silly now. Fight him for control, refuse to respond, maybe, but never hurt him. It would be attacking itself.

  But his mana... it would never even try. He remembered now how it had always answered his every command, pleased to serve him, a faithful companion and stalwart protector.

  Maybe too much of one.

  He yawned. His head hurt. Maybe it was time to wake up.

  He lay his head back onto the sea-serpent's body and closed his eyes, drifting up and away from this place.

  And in a fleeting memory, he remembered. He remembered what the light he'd tasked the serpent with safekeeping was.

  It was a soul.

  “Wh-what's happening?!” Niala shouted.

  Leandro stared at David's face. The unconscious man was crying bright blue tears that rolled down his face, solidifying and falling to the ground as small marbles.

  Jordo walked up to David's side, bending down and picking up one of the clear blue spheres, bringing it up in front of his eye. The light of his pupil pinned rapidly, before widening. He spoke up, his voice more enthusiastic than usual. “Oh my! Pure concentrated mana! How marvellous!”

  Both of them looked at the golem, eyes wide in shock.

  Leandro spoke first. “Pure mana? That's impossible. Refining mana requires extensive arcanomachinery and processing!”

  Jordo's eye twinkled. “And yet, these are pure mana beads.”

  “How pure?” The big man demanded.

  The golem's twinkling eye focused on Leandro. “Pure. 100%.”

  Niala gasped. “H-How is that even possible? Just how much power are in these things?!”

  Jordo's voice remained upbeat. “More than should be possible, Madam. The amount of mana that Sir is expelling out of his system should have eroded his soul away by now, yet he is very much present and alive, although...” Jordo refocused his attention on David, the golem's pupil zooming in and out. “He is starting to show minor brain hemorrhaging.”

  “What?!” Niala shrieked.

  “It is very minor, but we ought to, mayhaps, stop the experiment soon?” The golem offered.

  Niala hadn't needed to be told twice, as she flung herself at David, antidote in hand, only to be stopped by Leandro once more.

  “Let me go, you muscle maniac! He's going to brain-bleed to death!” She screamed.

  “Girl, sto-OOW” He yelled when Niala bit him bloody. “STOP!” He barked with his command voice, stilling her for an instant.

  “Look!” He said, pointing with his bleeding finger toward David.

  She did so and went silent when she noticed David's eyes rapidly moving underneath his eyelids. He was waking up.