Fortunately, the otherwise blinding Mist did nothing to detract from the internal map in his head. Or the brilliant warm glow of the handful of roaring soldiers calling out into the night, cries of witch and righteous persecution having slowly become the desperate call of people trying to find themselves in the mist… and somehow failing miserably.

  Stumbling soldiers covered in plate, using polearms as walking sticks. Men Eric did his best to avoid as he raced across the cobblestone streets and through side passages and alleyways precisely mirroring his original arrival, for that was the only true path he had to his destination, walking in the footsteps he had made before.

  Though cool blue brick walls were hardly better than squinting through the mist, the occasional desperate townsman trying to avoid the increasingly panicked guards blazing so brightly to his infravision were easy enough to spot and avoid, and mirroring his old path assured that he was in no danger at all of knocking into buildings or getting lost.

  The subtle tension he felt continued to mount as he made his way back to the city hall, darting through alleyways and making full use of infravision as he finally reached his goal.

  The narrow alleyway between city hall prisons and a noticeably smaller building also of damp brick, with just enough room between the two to crouch down and examine the rusted bars that had once been the only source of dim light and sour air to permeate the cells below.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing he was being a fool. That this would all be so easily if he gave in to the easiest and softest of summons. That which he had already bargained for in oaths and blood. A dozen permitted… and no more.

  Yet it was only now, with the hour late and the night air roaring with the sounds of anxious city guards and the far more distant shouts of fanatic Inquisitors with the mist embraced so fully that he could sense something that sent chills down his spine.

  A fresh perspective.

  A new way of looking at reality… or perhaps, peering through its veil, that he had never dared before.

  Even the phoenix of his soul was curious.

  Countless directions it might one day soar when Eric finally ascended to the heavens… yet the subtle muse of Enigma was one it had never even known existed.

  Not until now.

  A fresh path forward.

  The key to unlocking who knew what mysteries and wonders.

  So fragile.

  So ephemeral.

  Utterly beyond the glorious monster saturated with the same potency as the typical Rank 10 or so Silver.

  Such a creature as that would burn away twilight mist without care. Without a single clue that it was anything more.

  It was only here and now, in a body that, though bursting at the seems with Strength, Vitality, and Quickness all in the very young twenties… was mortal still.

  Fragile.

  Vulnerable.

  Without the wild, wicked, and wonderful arts of crimson and death buffering and shielding him everyplace else.

  Only now, vulnerable and alone, with nothing save good dwarven steel and fine French attire keeping his innards from kissing crossbow bolts and musket balls did he finally glimpse just a bit of the mystery and wonder that was his fragile precious Earth.

  Only now could he glimpse the memory of Enigma.

  And Agdelina, somehow, was the key.

  “Agdelina!” Eric whispered urgently through the bars below, heart quailing to see the crumpled woman huddling in her single threadbare blanket that some pitying guard had thrown her.

  A frail old woman, shivering and alone.

  “Agdelina, it’s me, Eric. Hold on, I’m getting you out!”

  For a second, he saw it. Soft blue eyes, high cheekbones, a stray lock of once straw-blond hair.

  The face of Agdelina, wide-eyed and hopeful for a savior…

  And in the blink of an eye it was gone, a proud matron revealing herself once more to glare up Eric’s way.

  “Don’t be a fool, child. The night is mist… and how are you even here? It’s perilous for any mortal to stray too far. Most know to enter any house where upright citizens stand vigil over fireplace and lamp, be greeted by fast-met friends with coffee or tea, if nothing else, and await the breaking of the mist.” Her glare turned to a sigh. “But you’re new here. Agda tended to her father’s cottage well enough… and you know none of this.”

  Her face lit up in a bittersweet smile. “It’s good to see your too handsome face anyway, my would-be hero. Even if actually entering this pit would require you to enter the city hall proper, which you will not do with a dozen panicked city guards, only a handful having joined us from the motherland… those few boys the only reason why my bones aren’t aching with the blanked on my shoulders and warm tea in my belly… but not even they dare to set me free.”

  Eric blinked. “Friendlies among the local constabulary? Thank you, Grandmother. I will remember this.”

  This earned a soft chuckle. “If only you would take my Agda and call me grandmother in truth. She would make you a fine wife, Eric Silver, even if she has the knowings of a woman… and I dare you to look me in the eye and tell me you’re any more innocent than she.”

  Eric’s cheeks blazed, before he flashed a bitter smile. “Not with all the blood on my hands, Grandmother. Blood enough to wash an entire city away.”

  The older woman paled, eyes widening with genuine dismay. “You’re not kidding.”

  Eric shrugged. “That’s neither here nor there. Now it’s about getting you out… and giving you what just might be the key to this night’s madness.”

  Her momentary dismay snapped to business-like focus. “Show me.”

  Eric dipped his head, flipping a certain Jane Doe’s journal into surprisingly adroit hands.

  Agdelina’s eyes widened as trembling fingers caressed the family crest upon the cover.

  “Heaven’s mercy. This is, this is…”

  “Yes. I know. Hold that thought, and cover your eyes.”

  A brilliant flare blazed through the darkness. Agdelina cursed under her breath as steel hissed and crackled, before brittle cast iron bars snapped free of their frame, adroitly claimed before they could fall and clatter below.

  “By the blazing fires of Hell!”

  “I told you to cover your eyes!”

  “What did you do, you fool? Blinding me and alerting the—”

  Her words cut off with a gasp when a gently smiling Eric was suddenly before her.

  “Are you alright?” He whispered into her suddenly trembling frame, the gruff woman seeming on the verge of tears, now that salvation was actually at hand.

  “How? How did you actually—”

  “Faerie prince, remember? Or call it a knack for the essence of Fire and Blood Magic. And I really don’t do anymore than the whisper of already stored arts, because I’m so close to tasting whatever magic makes this place tick, and you’re the key.”

  Agdelina stiffened, then snorted. “You mean you want the key.”

  “That too,” Eric said shamelessly. “But there’s more, here. So much more. And I can almost, almost sense it.”

  Agdelina rubbed her eyes a second longer before giving him the tiniest of nods. “I would never have thought that one as old as you… those damned Enigmatics, strangling away so much potential…”

  She sighed. “But as poor Jane Doe’s journal shows, doom is all but assured for any girl lacking a Mist Mother to show them the way.”

  Eric blinked at this. “Mist Mother… but Oliver said we all have to dare the maze alone…”

  “Oliver’s a fool!” Agdelina snapped, before deflating with a sigh. “And he’s half right. Mist Mothers can only help female members of their own clans. Males are left entirely on their own… so far as I know. And since the collegium was founded by male Enigmatics… is it any wonder why a woman’s arts were lost? Why I fight so hard to apprentice and train girls with the gifts?”

  Eric blinked at this. “Wait, wait! You mean, all the girls who could have… why did Oliver allow it to happen?”

  Surprisingly Agdelina sighed, shaking her head. “Don’t be too hard on that poor fool, boy. He knows to allow me any girl who knows her mother’s maiden name. Knowing that between myself and her own mother, the child will safely awaken to the knacks of kith and kin. Even if we’re not so foolish as to dare the Rose Maze between Faerie and Mundus… at least our eyes are open and our lives rich with wonder… and we lose no daughters to the Mist.”

  “But for the boys…”

  She nodded. “Girls with no mother or grandmother or even elder sister to lead them… yes. The Collegium is the only way. And waiting until they are sixteen and fully grounded, their gifts but a shadow of what they could have been, if they recall it at all… then the rose maze truly is the only path forward. For daring Faerie’s province is all that would crack open mortality’s vice and allow one who’s already known sixteen mortal summers to glimpse anything at all.”

  Eric blinked. “Alright. So what you’re saying is… young girls can be awakened gently, safely, in a limited fashion if they do it under your guidance with relatives by their side. They won’t glimpse otherworldly wonders, but they’ll come into their gifts, safely. If you’re a boy or have no kin… you wait till you’re sixteen, so your soul is grounded on Earth. And if you’re really really talented, your potential won’t be completely crystallized. It might only be a sliver of what an early blossoming might grant you… but daring the college’s maze between Faerie and Mundus will crack open what I so want to call clogged meridian nodes—don’t give me that look—and allow the spiritual… Enigmatc? energy to flow through you as it should.”

  “You understand? Good. We need to leave. Now.”

  Eric’s brow furrowed. “But what about girls and boys determined to enter the maze before they’re sixteen?”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Agda’s grandmother flashed a sad smile. “They’ll either awaken as truly gifted savants that the college will do all they can to keep on, like Oliver himself, or they will isekai straight into Faerie… or fade out of reality entirely.”

  Eric blinked. “Hold on.”

  “We have to go, child.”

  “You said ‘Isekai.’”

  She dipped her head. “Of course. It’s a borrowed word. Asiatic tribes have their own mystics and understandings as well.”

  Eric blinked. “Yeah, different timelines… sure. Makes sense. No LitRPG background needed. Okay, let’s go before the inevitable boss arrives.”

  This earned a glare. “Quit borrowing trouble, child. Oh my, so strong! My Agda will be a lucky wife indeed…”

  Eric suppressed a smile as he gently pushed the older woman through the bars. “Be careful. I splashed water on them, but they might still be… good, you’re through. Okay, move aside… shit.”

  Eric froze, looking up into the sneering countenance of a well armored Inquisitor, glaring down at him from his open faced helm, the sharp spear head point of his halberd just inches from Eric’s face.

  “Well well, what have I caught? I rat scurrying from his cage! Back where you belong, rat, You and your witch whore both, before I chop off your heads!”

  Eric’s thoughts roared through his skull as he took in the man’s stiff stance, cocky sneer, and casual grip. Utterly confident in his mastery of the situation. And why shouldn’t he be? Eric was on the ground before a fully armed and armored inquisitor. The man could easily ram his spearhead into Eric’s face or back, or chop off his head.

  Eric’s eyes widened, even as he curled up in a ball. “Please don’t strike me. I’ll split the gold with you, fifty-fifty!”

  This earned a sneer… and a glint of greed in the man’s eyes. “What gold? Speak now, prisoner, or…”

  “The mayor’s gold!” Eric hissed. “We robbed that idiot while everyone was in a panic. The jailor is in on it. He’s getting a 30 percent cut! And keep your voice down! You don’t want us to have to split it with anyone else, do you?”

  The man blinked, backing away a step. “Wait, you robbed the mayor?”

  Eric nodded animatedly. “Yes, what do you think the leather packs for? Don’t flinch. The traps were just a bluff. Here. Relax. Let me take it off and show you, okay?”

  The guard glared, then dipped his head.

  Eric held his breath, just in case, and undid the buckles, eyes widening with wonder. “It’s all here. Wonderful!”

  “Show me!”

  Eric nodded. “Here. Count out your share. Just leave me half, okay?”

  He tossed the man the bag.

  The inquisitor shifted his halberd to catch… before being rammed off his feet in a clatter of steel and pain.

  Acting skill check: Success! Acting has improved one Rank!

  Negotiation has improved one further Rank!

  Quickness / Strength skill check: Critical Success! You have have maneuvered your opponent where you wanted him and slammed him off his feet!

  You have successfully claimed. Halberd!

  Polearms has been successfully Quantized to Rank 8.

  Unarmed Combat is now Rank 8.

  “Eric, wait! You don’t have to—”

  Eric glared at the shocked countenance of the thug before him. The man’s beady eyes widening for just a heartbeat.

  “No, please! I don’t want to—”

  Words cut off when Eric snarled and rammed the spear point through the man’s eye with all his furious strength, blasting open the socket in a splash of crimson gore before wrenching it free with a snarl.

  Eric shuddered with darkest ecstasy.

  You have critically struck your opponent!

  You have used tools of artifice and martial to best a fully armed and armored foe who had you utterly mastered.

  Eve approves of this battle!

  You have earned one additional level as Death’s Disciple.

  “God’s mercy, boy. Glowing with your kills. You’re like Ivan at his worst!”

  Eric took a shuddering breath, lips curved in a manic grin.

  It was all he could do not to howl with the sweet rush of power flowing through him as he took a shuddering breath of air smelling of damp iron, coppery blood, and the sweet and sour miasma all cities possessed in this time and place.

  His thoughts were quicker. Movements effortlessly graceful as he stripped his opponent of coin purse and saber before wiping the bloody head of his freshly claimed halberd with a balance so similar to the glaive bardiche he knew and loved so well before shoving the corpse into the cellar that had so recently been Agdelina’s prison.

  For a moment, he was glorying in his kills with the same righteous glee that he took as his right… before turning to face Agdelina’s horrified countenance, feeling a sudden spike of the most awful of feelings… what was it called again?

  Ah yes.

  Shame.

  Agdelina’s eyes were filled with fear, accusation, and dismay. She lurched a single step back when Eric raised his bloodied hand… before he lowered it with a sigh.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally said, ignoring the panicked bleeting that were the tin whistles of Inquisitors lost in the mist.

  Surprisingly, Agdelina’s horrified dismay turned to crossed arms and a disapproving glare.

  “Sorry for killing him like a savage?”

  Eric winced, before shaking his head, stomach fluttering with an odd mixture of shame...and resolve.

  “No. I’m sorry for the look of fear and dismay that I see in your eyes. I’m sorry for bursting the sweet idealized image you had of me, thinking a savage like me could ever be worthy of your precious granddaughter.”

  His apologetic grimace turned hard and cold. “But am I sorry for tearing free the life of an Inquisitorial monster who had every intention of seeing us all burn at the stake and every last Enigmatic as well?” He slowly shook his head. “Nope, not one bit.”

  Agdelina furrowed her brow. “Explain.”

  Eric sighed. “To make a long story short, the head Inquisitor accused Ivan and your entire family of witchcraft and demanded that your son surrender his farm and all his worldly possessions to the inquisition, or be put to death immediately.”

  Agdelina’s eyes widened with dismay. “No. That’s outright extortion! The Crown forbade the Inquisition from direct rule within the colonies for this very reason!”

  Eric flashed a twisted smile. “I know. Moderates are enjoying the sweet fruits of trade and prosperity that only a light touch allows for. A light touch and a more moderate church that benefits everyone in Europe, so they aren’t quite as bloodthirsty as the fanatic branch that Lord Hatson oversees here. That much I overheard and inferred. But it wasn’t just a hustle for the farm and exile, Agdelina… they demanded that we plant incriminating evidence within the academy itself.”

  He glared at the package even as the older woman paled with horror.

  “Those fanatics will stop at nothing to claim the city and destroy their enemies.”

  Eric chuckled coldly. “It gets worse. They didn’t want us to plant evidence, that was a lie. As was their promise to let us all go free when we did their foul bidding. Because of course Ivan and I explained things to Oliver.”

  Eric clenched his trembling fists, jaw clenched, blinking back the hot sting in his eyes as he glared at the bag before him. “Oliver scanned the bag, as I asked him. Then thanked me.”

  He turned his teary-eyed gaze to look into Agdelina’s horrified countenance. “He thanked me for thinking to have him check the pack for traps at the last possible second. He had the gall to thank me for nearly getting us all killed, when he found no less than a black powder explosive covered in cyanide!”

  The woman froze, eyes filled with shocked dismay. “They would purge us all. Their words mean nothing. They will make mockeries of all the covenants between man and grace to see us all dead… to dance upon a pyre of our corpses!”

  Eric’s fists clenched. He closed his eyes. “And Agda was there. Agda and Emily both.”

  Of course Eric saw it coming. What was now over 21 Quickness aided by Infravision catching the hand about to smack his cheek.

  “Please be careful, grandmother. You might break fragile bones, should you smack my jaw. My damage resistance might just be two right now, but even that’s a hell of a lot, for this time and place.”

  “You nearly got my granddaughter killed!” Agdelina hissed.

  Eric bowed his head. “You’re right. I was a fool to not dispose of the bag you see before you immediately. Even if we were being followed.”

  “Yes, you stupid boy!” Agdelina hissed. “Even if it had cost me my life! You should have gotten Agda and her daughter and fled and not once looked back!”

  The older woman then crumpled against Eric. “Instead, you came back for this poor old fool. And Oliver was right. You did save them… even if your stupidity imperiled them as well.”

  Eric bowed his head. “Come. Let’s head back to the college.”

  Agdelina glared at the bag. “And you’re leaving that behind!”

  Eric winced, understanding in that moment the significance of the request… and doing just that.

  But not before placing a single crimson signal upon the bag.

  For but a moment, Agdelina had gazed upon him with heartfelt disappointment, before her lips curved in a relieved smile. “Good. You made the right choice. Let’s go.”

  Eric grinned and nodded, carefully leading the way.

  Damn right he made the right choice. Because of course the bag and all its ancient secrets would disappear, even as a new possibility opened up before him.

  But with his crimson mark and a Contender’s gifts… who was to say that he might not find it again in the future?

  Eric raised his eyebrow, quietly impressed by how well Agdelina navigated the fog, distracted not at all by the odd collage of scents… sour and smoky like the city, briny like the sea. Echoing with panicked shouts… odd laughter… and distant screams. But then again, why wouldn’t Agda’s grandmother navigate through it better than most? She was probably more in tune with the Enigma and all its manifestations, whatever that ultimately was, than anyone else.

  Still, even he was surprised by how quickly he made out the silhouette of the college’s church-like steeple, what truly was a church steeple in at least one incarnation. According to his own interface map… he shivered, getting a headache even trying to retrace his route… before his lips curled in a smile.

  Old Agdelina definitely had talent. And she knew exactly where she was going.

  Before abruptly stopping, a look of horror on her features.

  Eric felt a cold surge of dread, seeing the slumped over body of a man slumped upon the bars of the gate, wearing the woolen uniform of an enigmatic, his skull split cleanly in two.

  The older woman lurched back with a cry, Eric adroitly stepping in to catch her, though he too was caught off guard by the hideously stretched apart broken eyes gazing sightlessly into his own, the man’s skull shattered like a watermelon, bone, brains and speckles of blood splashed upon the ruin of his face, his robes, and the ground around him.

  Only then did the body, still cooling, flare before his Infravision.

  And this alarmed him more than anything else.

  “Someone warded the body with Unseeing!” Agdelina hissed.

  Eric’s gut clenched as the grandmother looked back at him, her gaze a blend of fury and dismay. And he knew it was only going to get worse.

  “Eric… this is the mark of the Inquisition. They found the academy, even through the—” She lurched back. “Blasphemy!” She cried, now peering at Eric as if he were the greatest monster of all.

  Eric coolly shook his head as a dozen shadow shapes loped around him.

  “I’m sorry, Agdelina. I’m afraid I’m going to have to step outside the storyline for a bit.”

  “What are you talking about? Eric! Do you understand what you just did? It is anathema to Enigma!”

  Eric’s gaze tightened. “So’s butchering seers devoting their lives to your arts. And how the hell did he destroy the wards even I sensed about the gates? It’s clear that Chief Inquisitor Hatson is no longer holding back. So neither am I.”

  “Eric!”

  “Agda’s still inside, Agdelina. And besides heavily armored fanatical knights, the fucker broke through Oliver’s wards and illusions and sports a dwarven double-shot, so the kid gloves are off. We’re doing this my way.”

  Agdelina’s lips pressed together in a tight line. He could sense her fear and loathing. Yet she was no fool.

  She too understood just how late the hour had gotten.

  And her son-in-law, grandchild, and great grandchild risked being at the mercy of the fanatics that had entered a once unbreachable domain.

  Whatever she was about to say was drowned out by the desperate shout Eric recognized all too well as he raced through the mist. Not towards the solemn-looking academy, the stalwart ivory tower serving as a beacon in the mist, but the grassy grounds containing the true prize of this institution.

  The rosebush maze… and the secrets hidden within.