While we share the general idea of how we sculpt our realms, there are some differences. Namely, I had in idea of forming seals of two different energy type. My hypothesis was that the multi-elemental seals would trigger for all its elements, and it would even open a path for other types of mana to be used in appropriate arts.

  I was wrong. Don’t waste time on this.

  — Excerpt from Notes For Newstar

  Day 1034, 5:00 PM

  After visiting Newstar and sacrificing a decent chunk of my sanity for his brighter future, I took nearly two whole seasons to recover mentally. The weeks and moons passed while I plied the trade of a soother and sculpted my realm into the new two-tier format. Technically three, since my wood and metal runic seals often existed above the ground level.

  I wanted to bash my head against a rock for not figuring out the underground realm development on my own. I mean, I was making stuff above the ground; it wasn’t much of a leap in deduction, and yet, I had missed it.

  Still, I was proud of my progress, and by abandoning some of my other professions I had managed to keep up more or less with my self-imposed schedule.

  Like it often does when you are busy with a repetitive task, time moved in a blur. Some of my patients had interesting problems, such as a fear of open spaces. Apparently, agoraphobia was a near-impossible heart demon to deal with, since you couldn’t beat up space.

  I had no clue how people on Earth dealt with it, but alchemical drugs, combined with a gradual increase in exposure, bore fruit after three moons of weekly sessions. As word spread of me solving what were considered unsolvable problems, especially the agoraphobia, my fame grew from a fad to genuine recognition and an increase in high-realm clients who didn’t even have heart demons, but feared specific situations might evolve into them.

  I shan’t speak of the fear of death, losing loved ones, infirmity or incompetence of your descendants, which plagued most of the noble patriarchs and powerful figures who had children. It offered an odd and unique insight into people whom the general awakened population thought pompous and oblivious of their children’s failures.

  They were neither stupid, nor arrogant and ignorant. No, they were desperate and powerful. They couldn’t show weakness before others, and as such often acted like overbearing fools.

  As strange as it may sound, their problems were my old self’s problems. Being a king with a score descendants, some of which suffering from substance addictions for which you were partially to blame, gave me both insight and personal familiarity with their woes.

  My one true problem remained the princess, who summoned me once per moon. We were making progress. She was feeling better, but between our less frequent sessions and the seeming impossibility of her problem, the lack of tangible progress didn’t make her suspicious.

  The winter, or season of water, passed, followed by spring. I had just dipped my toes into the summer, without redoing once, when a disturbing piece of news reached me.

  “The imperial family is issuing commendations to orders and clans that had survived the attack by cultists? When did the attack happen?”

  I asked Honor Helmsworth when he brought up the subject of imperial rewards.

  “Moons ago,” the youth stared at me as if I had been dropped on the head when I was a baby. “The news was kept semi-secret until three weeks ago, when the imperials made the declaration after gathering all the information on impacted clans and orders. The Tidebreaker king and queen died in the attack. That was something everyone knew. How come you don’t know this? That news is more than three moons old.”

  That was a great question. My guess was distancing myself too much from the real world in an attempt to find my balance, fearing I’d have to redo again. Apparently, I was both right and wrong to do so at the same time.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Who did the cultists attack?”

  “I don’t know everyone. King and Queen Tidebreaker, Duke and Duchess Grandfang, Duke Palestalker, some orders. You can find the list at the adventurers guild, probably some other places too.”

  I lost the will for the conversation, and after I drained my tea, Honor allowed me to leave. I rushed over to the guild, and on a list framed near the door, I saw the full imperial proclamation, and the full list of injured parties.

  As I had feared, the Explorer’s Gate was attacked, but at least they had survived. The Coldridge clan wasn’t as lucky.

  My legs turned to water.

  It’s because of me… The cultists and their outer gods patrons used the ripples in time caused by my deaths to sniff out troublesome individuals and get rid of them.

  I gulped, checked my surroundings, and since nobody stood nearby, I imploded my realm. I could only hope the extra time bought by my suicide would matter.

  Day 1020, 6:00 PM

  All right, now, stop and think. What are my priorities? First, see if Newstar is still alive, and hope I didn’t ruin the timeline too much, eventually allowing the outer gods to devour the world. If I have, I need to take his place.

  I left the meditation chamber.

  “Gem.” I threw her a second realm crystal. “I have to go to the Explorer’s Gate. If anyone asks, a friend of mine might be in danger, and I had to leave immediately. It’s the truth, by the way, also, please settle my bill at the Scribe’s Abode.”

  Eventually, after growing rich enough, I had abandoned living in the adventurers’ guild, and moved to the inn next door to the scribes’ guild. A horrible mistake, one that cost me a lot of time with the mess I found myself in. Then again, nobody could guess such things. Perhaps some important news might have been broadcast to the scribes, and I would have missed it because I was in the adventurers’ guild.

  Don’t think about that. What do I need to do? Get to the Explorer’s Gate as fast as possible - that’s about a moon’s worth of travel, then check on Newstar’s status and what had happened to him. If he’s fine, all is good. Otherwise, the world is in trouble.

  What about Brand? The proclamation said the clan was wiped out. I could search for him, or devote time to making the potion he was researching, I got enough information out of him to have a starting point. But what of the others?

  I had no idea why those people were important, or who was important in an entire clan. If I went by the Coldridge clan situation, it could be a random member, unawakened even, someone with no merit at all, someone who would do something important during the next century or so.

  I fucked up. I fucked up big time.

  I had already known my redos bought more time for the outer gods than they did for me. Based on what I had seen on Everrain, they can act, prepare, and alter the course of history, and yet, despite the advantage, outer gods weren’t keen on me messing with time.

  That meant it came at a cost for them. Then there was the entity that had warned me the outer gods were around. But what was I supposed to do? A single redo was all it took to give them foreknowledge about the way the world’s history would unfold without my influence.

  And ever since the first few weeks of my life in the Eternal Light empire, I’ve been dancing to their tune.

  Those were the conclusions I drew before leaving the scribes’ guild. Naturally, I mulled each over a dozen times, looking for flaws, while I drove in the coach, heading not for the exit, but the local rumor house.

  “Good day,” I told the broker. “I need to know the fastest way to the Explorer’s Island. My budget for travel is ten fourth realm manarium pieces.”

  “Ten minutes, Sir,” the faceless, genderless broker said and worked the local tablet version. They wrote into it, read and waited.

  “Beast tamers’ guild has fourth realm wind attributed avians, large enough to fit the tamer and a single passenger. The rental fee is half a fourth realm manarium per day, so you could ride one for twenty days. Explorer’s Island should be fifteen to seventeen days away. The second fastest way—”

  “No, thanks, that was the information I was looking for. How much do I owe you?”

  A handful of first realm crystals lighter, I visited the beast tamers’ guild, and arranged a private flight for myself. I had taken ten fourth realm crystals from my account, eight for the fare, two for the unexpected expenses. I also had a sack full of guild notes for more common expenses, and my usual assortment of lower realm crystals.

  Sixteen days in the air with only three breaks for food and sleep turned out surprisingly comfortable. Wind made conversation impossible, and I couldn’t meditate either, so I drilled myself. I ran various scenarios through my mind, conversations with people stronger than myself, and finding the right half-truths which would lead to results I wanted while keeping my secrets.

  On the morning of the sixteenth day of flight, the vast inland sea surrounding Explorer’s Island revealed a larger landmass. It looked smaller when approached from the sea, but Newstar’s order covered a lot of ground, most of it looking like virgin jungle, no different from the wealds.

  “We’ll land in two hours,” my pilot shouted, and I steeled myself.

  I was about to risk my life and possibly years of torture by putting more faith than I was comfortable with in strangers infinitely stronger than myself.