What is Taken, What is Given

A collective understanding settled over us, the unspoken consensus that her next words held the key to a great many things. We fell into a hushed stillness, listening with rapt attention. After a beat of silence, her hand rose, and a single, accusatory finger singled me out from the group.

“You were the final one to be summoned,” she began, her voice resonating with a timeless gravity that commanded respect. “Your arrival came some time after the others had been called. In the same manner as those before you, I welcomed you and introduced you to the fabric of this reality. And while you regained your bearings with remarkable speed, you were not so different from the rest; most spirits are disoriented and agitated when they first manifest. It was, by all accounts, a standard orientation. The real complication arose at the moment I chose to bestow my blessing upon you.”

As she spoke, her words acted as a key, unlocking dormant corners of my mind. Fleeting images of that very incident, hazy and indistinct, flickered through my consciousness.

“Upon granting you the foundational blessing—the ability to comprehend all languages through the transmission of thought—I inquired as to which specialized skill you would most desire. You, however, responded by asking what the absolute maximum number of skills was that I could grant. I recall sighing before clarifying that, contingent upon your innate aptitude, you were permitted only one. It was then that you had the sheer audacity to request that I simply give you my own power as a Goddess, which would allow you to bestow abilities upon yourself as you saw fit. When I objected in no uncertain terms, you simply chuckled, dismissing your outrageous demand as a jest. But then… to my profound and utter disbelief, you proceeded to actually absorb my power!”

A grimace threatened to form on my lips, one I quickly suppressed. Shards of recollection, which I had long presumed lost to the ether, began to pierce the veil of my amnesia. I possessed a faint, fragmented memory of the scene she was now vividly painting. It truly had been a joke. The notion was inspired by old tales of genies and the classic strategy of wishing for more wishes. It couldn't hurt to ask, I must have reasoned at the time.

“I absorbed your power?” I questioned, piecing it together. “So that ‘precious’ thing you spoke of earlier… that was your divine authority?”

“But of course, it was! What other conceivable thing could it have been?”

“Well, Miss Goddess,” I countered, applying a subtle but deliberate emphasis to her title, “when a woman refers to something as ‘my precious’ in that particular tone, it can suggest a variety of meanings. Especially that one.”

“And what meaning is that?” she inquired, her expression one of genuine bewilderment.

“Why don’t you direct that question to her?” I suggested, flicking my eyes toward Ms. Latina. “She seems to have grasped the implication.”

Now fully aware of the unfortunate double entendre, Ms. Latina appeared mortified. Her gaze plummeted to the floorboards in a wave of secondhand embarrassment as she mumbled, “I-I do apologize… once more…”

“Wait, could someone please explain what he’s talking about?” Zephyra asked, her curiosity now thoroughly piqued. I had initially written her off as merely simple for pouting over matters of food, but it was becoming clear that this woman was perhaps a far greater airhead than I had ever imagined.

“That would be…” Ms. Latina faltered for a second before deciding it was best to lean in and whisper directly into the Goddess’s ear.

As the explanation was murmured to her, Zephyra’s cheeks instantly ignited in a deep shade of crimson. Her eyes went wide with shock, and a hand flew to her mouth to cover an audible gasp.

“You… you degenerate! You beast!” she sputtered, somehow managing to pin the blame for her own innocence squarely on me.

“Hold on a second, you’re the one who created the misunderstanding!” I shot back. “Even if I did take your power, you shouldn’t have referred to it as your ‘everything.’ A phrase like that is practically begging to be misinterpreted.”

“But… it genuinely is my everything,” she answered, the blush on her cheeks gradually starting to fade.

“I’m sorry?”

“My form is ethereal. When I stated that you absorbed my power, I meant that you absorbed me. The complete totality of my existence.”

“Boss, you really gobbled her up, eh?” old Voktah interjected with a wheezing chuckle. I was beginning to detect a pattern with him; he seemed to speak only when he spotted an opening to deliver a truly awful pun.

I sent a withering glare in his direction, a sentiment that was perfectly mirrored by the sharp, disapproving looks from Kyoto and Ms. Latina. A silent, instantaneous pact was forged between the three of us: we would collectively ignore that comment.

“Ethereal,” I repeated, steering the conversation back on track. “As in, you lack a physical body? Like a phantom? A ghost?”

“That is correct. My body is not made of physical matter; it is composed entirely of Aether.”

“Hang on, let’s rewind for a moment. To begin with, how was I even capable of taking your power?”

“That is a matter of which I am not entirely certain,” she confessed. “It is as if the very nature of your soul exists on a higher plane of reality than my own. It seemed to simply assert its dominion over my authority as this world’s governor. An occurrence of this nature is completely without precedent.”

“Okay, I’m following you so far. The memories of our initial meeting are slowly crystallizing now that you’re explaining it. But you also claimed I lost some memories and then squandered your power. What was that part about?”

“For reasons I cannot begin to comprehend, your transfer into this world was flawed. This resulted in certain aspects of your being—your memories, in all likelihood—becoming sealed away. After I was absorbed into you, I found myself similarly trapped and imprisoned within your soul, powerless to act. As for you squandering it all… that seal on your memories eventually began to weaken, allowing me to break free for a fleeting moment. It was in that instant I discovered what you were doing. You had invoked an ability to tear a hole through the realms and journey back to your home world, but you had done so with catastrophic inefficiency, at an Aetherial cost that was far beyond your capacity to sustain. And when I say ‘your Aether,’ I am referring, of course, to the Aether you plundered from me,” she concluded, letting out a groan as if the mere recollection of the event caused her physical pain.

So, that settled it. It hadn't been a dream. My suspicions had been stirring ever since I’d noticed the blouse I gave to Crazy Mo that night had vanished from my closet.

“Under normal circumstances, one’s personal Aether would naturally replenish with sufficient rest, but in your case, it was utterly depleted. It was truly gone forever! You exhausted the entirety of my Aetherial being. It was unable to regenerate due to the continuous drain, a process which then eroded your own Aether capacity and began to cannibalize your very life essence. That is the point when your condition escalated from simple fatigue into a terminal decline. I was astounded that you could still stand and function as if nothing was amiss. The agony of having one’s life force consumed should be unendurable. Most beings would lose their sanity in a matter of seconds.”

I had certainly felt a degree of discomfort, but it was nothing that threatened to drive me to madness. The sensation was almost familiar, in a strange way, reminiscent of something I experienced on a daily basis in my youth.

“That incident you’re describing… that must have been when I returned to Terra through that bizarre spatial fissure. I do recall feeling profoundly sick and drained afterward. And that there were glowing cracks spider-webbing across my skin.”

“Precisely,” she confirmed. “The material from which your body is fashioned is implemented Aether. When the energy consumption started to devour your fundamental existence, your very body was being consumed.”

“Wait, my body is made of Aether? I thought you said your body was made of Aether and that it wasn't physical.”

“Your constitution and mine are not the same. My Aether is pure and ethereal, unable to be touched by physical creatures. As a summoned individual, yours is an unnatural vessel of solidified Aether, manifested so that you may physically exist within this realm.”

“Are you saying all summoned beings have a body like this?” I asked, gesturing to my three companions.

“Correct. All of you arrived in this world as souls—ethereal beings, not unlike myself. Upon your arrival, your physical avatars were constructed for you out of Aether. These forms must perpetually consume Aether simply to sustain their own existence. It is not unlike conjuring a ball of fire; you are required to constantly channel your Aether to preserve its shape, and the instant you stop, it dissipates into nothing. Your bodies are, in essence, spells that are being continuously cast.”

“I see. That actually makes a great deal of sense. So, during that desperate time… was it you who brought me back here?”

“It was,” she affirmed. “Upon realizing the severity of your predicament, I was able to temporarily seize control of your weakened form, halt the profligate expenditure of Aether, and tear open another rift in space to return to this world before promptly collapsing.”

“To think it was such a critical situation, and I was completely oblivious,” I mused, a wave of genuine gratitude washing over me. “Thank you for saving my hide, Miss Zephyra. And I am truly sorry for so recklessly wasting your power.”

“What? Why are you offering an apology? What has been done is done. I am not so petty as to hold a grudge over such a triviality. And there is no need for you to thank me—it is only natural to save someone who is in peril! You can also dispense with the honorifics. Just Zephyra will suffice!” Once again, she adopted a standoffish, almost haughty posture. One moment she was lambasting me for my blunders, and the next she was acting all noble and magnanimous. Could this woman possibly be…

“A Tsundere Goddess,” Kyoto murmured just loud enough for me to hear.

“Alright then, Zephyra,” I said, a hint of playful teasing in my voice. “It was quite a noble thing for you to do, acting so decisively.”

“Hmph. Cease your mockery!” She puffed out her cheeks into an adorable pout. There was something unexpectedly charming about seeing a mature, beautiful woman feign the petulant distress of a child.

While Ms. Latina nodded in quiet agreement, Voktah, for once, held his tongue.

With a renewed glimmer of hope shining in her eyes, Ms. Latina asked, “Does your story imply that he can go back to Terra? To our home world?”

“That would be correct,” Zephyra affirmed. “Although the Godly Aether he took from me is now gone, the intrinsic ability to generate a spatial rift has become permanently ingrained in his soul. It should be entirely possible for him to open another gateway to your world.”

“Then, I beg of you!” Ms. Latina sank to her knees, her hands clutching at the hem of my pants as great, shuddering sobs began to wrack her body, tears streaming from her eyes. “I have to go back! They need me there. I have to protect them. I must return home!”

“Please, get up,” I said gently, helping her back to her feet. “I don’t know the method yet, but I give you my word, I will find a way to take you back. Zephyra, do you have any idea how I can create that hole in space?”

“It shouldn’t prove difficult. Blessing-type abilities can be awakened by sheer force of will; a verbal incantation is not strictly necessary. However, the effect can be amplified or the casting made easier if you incorporate a physical gesture or speak the name of the spell aloud. I am unable to assist you in casting it, so you must try to recall precisely what you were doing when you first managed to create it.”

What had I done? I had been fixated on the thought of Boss Ren’s pizza, wishing with all my might that I could have it just one last time. Was that all it was? A simple, powerful wish?

“I understand. Let’s give it a shot.”

I closed my eyes, marshaling my thoughts and focusing them on the pizzeria, on the desperate craving I had felt to eat there again. Ten seconds crawled by. Then thirty. An entire minute passed in silence. Nothing happened.

“That’s odd. It worked before when I was just craving my favorite food, but it isn’t working now.”

“Perhaps your desire lacks sufficient intensity at this moment,” Zephyra suggested. “Even though abilities granted by blessings are simpler than standard spellcasting, you still need to acclimate to their use. Attempt to focus on another powerful, recent impression you have from your world.”

Something recent and significant from Terra? The very last one would have to be…

I concentrated, pulling forth the memory of Kazir and me standing on that rooftop, talking the suicidal man back from the edge. And then, poof. With a sound like the tearing of fine silk, a shimmering, iridescent fissure in the very fabric of reality materialized in the air before us.