This is Reality

A few minutes after the brothers left, my father turned to me. “I should be going,” he said. “You’re sure you’ll be all right keeping portal open?”

“Yes, Father,” I said, exasperated.

“You have your food and water?”

“Right here.” I showed him the small sack that held my canteen of water and a few crumbles of bread. “You’re just going to be gone overnight, right?” I glanced through the treetops into the clear late afternoon sky. “The weather is nice. You know I always enjoyed sleeping outside when I was a kid.”

He smiled fondly. “You and your mother would look up at the stars. And she would tell stories about the days of the Golden Monarchs. Even when I got tired and went inside, you two would stay up.”

I smiled at the fond memory. “One time, after mom fell asleep, Bekah snuck out to join us. I told her such scary ghost stories that she couldn’t get a moment of sleep. She got me back the next day.”

“Oh? How so?”

“She put a bug in my lunch packet. I screamed so loud I thought the whole town could hear me.

We shared a laugh at the story. How long had it been since I had just talked with my father like this? Not since entering the Pocket, at least.

He gave me one final hug. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised. He began performing hand gestures I recognized as Body spells to enhance his own speed and endurance.

“Stay safe,” I told him. He waved and dashed away, moving faster than a galloping horse thanks to his magic.

After he disappeared into the trees, I took stock of my surroundings. I was in a clearing in the forest. Judging by the sun, it was late afternoon. It had been morning when we left; apparently the time of day in the Pocket did not match that of the real world. The wall of mist was still behind me, although I could barely perceive it. Idly, I tossed a stick into the mist. It vanished, presumably leaving here to enter the Pocket.

I felt restless. I wanted to walk, but I didn’t dare stray too far from the portal, so I settled for walking around the perimeter of the clearing. That quickly grew boring, so I lay on my back and gazed into the sky. It felt wonderful to look at a blue sky again, after so long under the grey one of the Pocket.

I rolled over onto my side. When I did, I heard a crinkling sound come from my trousers pocket. I reached in and pulled out a crumbled ball of paper. I unfolded it to see hand-written text.

After a moment, I realized this was the poetry Shemman had written for me in thanks for washing his robe. I smiled at the memory. Come to think of it, he had only recited one of the poems for me. I sat down, put my back against a comfortable tree, and took the time to read through the verse.

Wow. Shemman was bad. Really, really bad. I tried to read the poem again to come up with a better description, but my brain refused out of self-defense.

“Then again,” I murmured, “is the language of the Empire even his first language? Maybe he’s more eloquent in his home tongue.” There was so much about Shemman I didn’t know. In the monotony of life in the Pocket, it had felt like I had as much time as I wanted to get to know him. I had never thought about it in terms this concrete before, but I now realized that I had assumed that we would live out our lives in the Pocket. The mage community would eventually grow to trust Shemman and Jepha enough to let them out of their cage, and we could all be happy together; a delusion of endless time together. That delusion was over. This was reality. It was too late to say anything more to Shemman.

“None of that,” I scolded myself, pushing myself up from the ground. “If you’ve got time to mope, you’ve got time to train!” Well, I couldn’t expend too much energy. Even though I wasn’t consciously holding on to the Expanse right now, it was necessary for me to maintain a faint connection to keep the portal open. That was the requirement of Granny’s spell.

I amused myself by practicing Movement. I didn’t want to try to move something as big as myself, so I practiced by making a fallen branch disappear from one end of the clearing and appear at the other. Back and forth, until I got so used to it that I didn’t have to think about it consciously.

I don’t know how long I amused myself this way before I heard a disturbance. Voices! It wasn’t my father, so it had to be someone from the Empire. I couldn’t allow myself to be discovered. I hid behind a tree.

Only then did I realize these were children’s voices. I peaked from behind the tree to observe two children: a boy and a girl. They couldn’t have been any older than Jepha, and judging by their similar appearance, I guessed they were brother and sister.

They hadn’t noticed me, which was good. Unfortunately, that was because the sister was pointing at the barely visible wall of mist that made up the portal. She said “pretty!” and laughed delightedly. The brother said “what’s so pretty about some fog,” but his sister dragged him forward toward the portal.

Crap! The portal was still open. If the kids entered the mist, they might be transported to the Pocket. And I couldn’t just close the portal; that would strand me in the real world with no way to get back.

I had no choice. I jumped out from behind the tree. “Don’t touch that mist!” I said. “Um, it’s poisonous.”

The sister looked startled, but the brother stared at me dubiously. “Who are you, lady?”

“I, um,” I stammered. Think! The story just needed to fool a child; it didn’t have to be too complicated. “I live in the forest. That’s how I know.”

The boy said “nobody lives in the forest.”

“Well, I do. So does my family.” I shooed them away. “You kids should get back home. It’s getting late.” They stared at me. “Go on.”

Reluctantly, the children turned and walked back into the forest, following what I now saw was a trail. I breathed a sigh of relief when they were gone. Still, kids that small couldn’t have gotten far. That must mean the town was closer to this clearing than I thought. I guess that was a good thing, if it meant my father didn’t have to go too far to find food.

As the sun started to set, I decided I should start preparing to spend the night. I briefly considered starting a fire, but quickly decided against it. We were near my hometown, after all, so I knew the nights were warm around this time of year. Besides, a fire might attract attention from the town. Instead, I found a comfortable tree to lie back against. I ate my meager dinner, and with nothing else to do, I dozed off.

I was confused for a moment when I awoke. It was the middle of the night. The full moon cast an eerie light on the clearing, giving the forest a ghostly appearance. At first, I didn’t know what had awoken me, but after a moment, I noticed the sounds of shouts in the distance. They were still far away, but there were a lot of them; it sounded like a large gathering. Or, I realized with sudden dread, a mob.

Through the trees, I saw little dots of torchlight. As I watched, the sound of the mob grew louder.

Before I could start panicking, I heard an enormous crash behind me. I turned to see my father, covered in dust, carrying a colossal burlap sack large enough to hold three grown men over one shoulder, and standing in a small crater. “Father?! Where did you come from?”

“I jumped.” He stepped out of the crater and made a token effort to dust himself off, then winced in pain. “Ouch. Haven’t used that spell in years. It’s tough on my knees.”

“Father, I think they’re coming for us!”

“Yes. Around the town, I heard talk of two children who had met a strange lady in a clearing in the woods. It did not take long for people to realize that was the clearing where the two Aijalon brothers had disappeared from.”

I went pale. “Father, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—it was an accident!”

He patted my head. “It’s all right, Rakel. I’m here, and you’re safe. Let’s go back.” He straightened. “Is the portal ready?”

I focused. At my command, I felt my connection to Granny grow stronger. As I did, the wall of mist grew thicker and began to glow. “Good work,” my father said, genuine pride in his voice. With a heave, he picked up the sack like it weighed nothing. He strode into the mist. I felt that tone just barely too high to be fully audible. Good, he had made it through. All that remained was for me to return to the Pocket.

I felt my head throb and my connection to the Expanse waver. On total instinct, I dropped to the ground. I heard the swishing sound of a blade passing through the space my neck had occupied a split second ago.

Panicking, I rolled away and scrambled to my feet. Just a few feet away stood the figure of a woman dressed in familiar black robes, short sword outstretched.

“Good reactions, little devil,” the female Aijalon assassin said with a smirk.