A Portal Home, A Door Closed

“It actually worked!” I exclaimed, a note of genuine astonishment in my voice that Kazir, of all people, had inadvertently supplied a workable solution.

“Quickly, you must enter!” Zephyra urged, her expression unusually solemn and taut with strain. “Maintaining a gate of this nature requires a tremendous amount of personal Aether! At your current level of proficiency, you possess only enough to sustain it for a few more seconds at most!”

Just as we readied ourselves to step across the threshold, Kyoto suddenly recoiled. “I do not wish to return!” he announced with startling abruptness.

“We can come back to this world later! This is merely a trial run!” I insisted, seizing his arm and forcefully pulling him forward. “Now, get inside!”

One after another, we scrambled through the shimmering, liquid-like tear in the fabric of space. Once the final person had passed through, I followed Zephyra’s mental guidance and concentrated on severing the connection. The portal snapped shut with a silent finality, and a profound wave of exhaustion crashed over me, washing away the initial thrill of success.

I took a moment to get my bearings. We were standing inside Kazir’s glass-house studio, situated on the very same rooftop from which I had fallen. A bank of large computer monitors cast a soft glow, their screens filled with the intricate, multicolored timelines of video editing software. All around us, camera equipment, lighting rigs, and various props were scattered about in the same state of organized chaos I remembered.

“We’re in Brookland,” I informed the others, my voice carrying a slight echo within the glass enclosure. “It’s a borough in the FSA. This is close to my old office… and this studio belongs to an acquaintance of mine.”

Zephyra and my other companions surveyed the alien landscape of my world, their faces a canvas of mingled curiosity and apprehension.

“Is this some kind of workshop?” Kyoto asked, tilting his head as he examined a boom microphone.

“For a prank video channel, yes,” I confirmed with a weary sigh. “The complete jerk who owns it has been producing them for years. I’ve been one of his unwilling guest stars ever since I first moved to this city back in 2013.”

Kyoto offered me a look of what I could only describe as token pity. “That’s rough, buddy.”

“The exit is this way,” I said, gesturing toward the door leading out of the studio. “We’re on top of a six-story building, so the safety fence offers a rather incredible view of the city.”

As we stepped out from the glass house onto the open rooftop, I immediately noticed Zephyra’s pronounced discomfort. Her eyes darted from one mundane object to the next—an air conditioning unit, a satellite dish, a weathered lawn chair—as if they were terrifying monstrosities. Ms. Latina and Voktah were unnervingly quiet, and even Voktah’s customary, foolish grin was conspicuously absent from his face.

We ambled to the edge of the roof and stood before the chain-link fence, pausing for a moment to drink in the sprawling cityscape. The building was perfectly situated, straddling the line between a quiet residential district of low-rise apartments and the glittering, steel-and-glass towers of the downtown core. Just as we were soaking in the familiar vista, the heavy metal door to the rooftop staircase creaked open behind us.

“Huh? Is there someone up here?” a voice called out—a familiar voice, and one I had sincerely hoped I would never have to hear again.

“Kazir!” I shouted, spinning on my heel to face him.

His eyes widened in sheer disbelief. “What? That’s impossible… Who are all of you?” He took a clumsy, stumbling step backward, the color draining from his face until it was ashen. “No! It can’t be you! I saw you die! I was at your funeral! I watched them lower your casket into the ground!” he stammered, his voice escalating into a panicked squeak at the sight of me standing before him, very much alive.

“And yet, here I am,” I replied with a wry, knowing smile.

“This is a catastrophe!” Zephyra suddenly cried out, her prior unease exploding into full-blown, unadulterated alarm. “Open the gate! We must return to Arcalos this instant! Go back, now!” She had to have mistaken Kazir for the tyrannical King’s impersonator we had recently encountered.

“Relax,” I said, holding up a hand to try and calm her. “He just happens to have the same face. He isn’t that monster.”

“That is not the issue!” she insisted, her voice trembling with a frantic, desperate energy I couldn’t begin to comprehend. “Open the dimensional doorway this very second, or we are all going to perish!”

Perish? I had no earthly idea what she was talking about, but the sheer, unbridled terror shining in her eyes was more than enough to convince me it was better to comply now and ask questions later. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing my mind on the image of the inn room back on Arcalos, and poured every ounce of my will into the space before me. Mercifully, the portal tore open on the first attempt. One by one, the others leaped through without hesitation. I brought up the rear.

“I’ll be back!” I shouted over my shoulder at the ghost-white Kazir.

“Please don’t haunt me!” was the last thing I heard him wail in reply. “I’m sorry for—”

He probably assumed I was a ghost. That was perfectly fine by me. At least I could leave him with that little “parting gift” to remember me by.

Back in the relative safety of our rented room at the inn, I rounded on Zephyra. “What in the world was that all about? What was wrong back there?”

“Your world… it was fundamentally wrong,” she said, her breathing heavy and ragged.

“Wrong in what way?”

“There was no natural Aether,” she explained, her eyes still wide with lingering fear. “I felt its absence the moment we arrived. It was as if the entire universe was… void. Empty.”

“The concept of Aether doesn’t exist in our world,” I said slowly, the terrifying pieces of the puzzle beginning to click into place. “So I guess that means it isn’t there. Is that a bad thing?”

“It is a catastrophic thing!” she nearly shrieked. “Have you already forgotten what I told you? Aether is the very substance that constitutes our physical forms! We require a constant, ambient supply of it just to survive. Without any natural Aether in the environment to absorb, our bodies are forced to consume their own reserves simply to maintain their existence. We would have expended all of our essence in a matter of minutes, with nothing left to open a gateway home. A few more moments in your world, and we would have simply ceased to be!”

The weight of her words landed with the force of a physical blow, silencing the room. My gaze drifted instinctively to Ms. Latina. She was staring blankly at the floorboards, her expression a mask of unreadable emotion. Her one, burning hope—the possibility of returning to her own world—had just been irrevocably extinguished before her very eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Latina,” I murmured, at a complete loss for any other words that might offer comfort.

“No, it is quite alright,” she said, her voice soft but surprisingly steady. “I was acting on impulse. It doesn’t matter anymore. I apologize for putting us all in such grave danger.” She sounded dejected, certainly, yet there was a new layer of resilience in her tone that hadn’t been present before. I couldn’t help but wonder what had caused such a sudden shift.

“Don’t blame yourself for this,” I said. “It was a valuable opportunity to test the theory. In the end, no harm was done.”

“Thank you.”

With one immediate crisis averted, it was time to address another lingering question.

“By the way, Zephyra,” I began, “what exactly is your situation now? You said I had sealed you inside of me. How did you suddenly appear alongside the others during the summoning?”

“I am not entirely certain of the mechanics,” she admitted. “However, as you were being summoned, a powerful external force shattered the seal that bound me and simultaneously stabilized your incomplete transference. I was finally freed from that bleak, lonely, and featureless space. It was no different from a prison. Now, even though I am still bound to your essence, I can at least perceive the world around me freely.”

Something had shattered the seal. The brilliant beam of light from the summoning circle. That had to be it. She had materialized right after the light had faded. Had I inadvertently managed to fix my own botched magical condition simply by being in the right place at the right time? What a staggering coincidence.

“What do you mean, ‘bound’?” I asked. “Is that the reason you’ve been following us around?”

“It is true. I find myself tethered to your soul and am physically incapable of moving very far from your side,” she said, her voice laced with a clear reluctance. “As I explained before, you have taken everything from me, and I do not know of any method to sever this connection. Even if I could, without my Aether, I would be reduced to nothing more than a helpless, ethereal spirit. For the time being, remaining with you is my only viable path to survival.”

“So…” Kyoto interjected with his typical lack of finesse, “the two of you are in a master-slave relationship?”

“S-slave?” Zephyra stammered, a deep blush coloring her cheeks. “That’s… not an entirely inaccurate description of our situation.” She looked down at her hands, her sorrow almost palpable.

“Uwaaah! A real, live Goddess, and she’s all ours!” Kyoto cheered, completely and utterly failing to read the somber mood of the room. “What a score!” There were moments when the man’s tactlessness was truly unbelievable.

“Hmph.” She cast her gaze downward again, her dejected frown somehow making her look all the more endearing.

“You will not be treated as a slave!” Ms. Latina declared, stepping forward to place a firm, comforting hand on Zephyra’s shoulder. Unlike Kyoto, she was a bastion of empathy. “Is that right, Axel?”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, punctuating the statement with a light smack to the back of Kyoto’s head. “You will never be a slave to us. Besides, you used to be a goddess. Even without your power, you must possess knowledge about this world that could be of great help to us. You could be our all-knowing, living encyclopedia.”

“Something to that effect,” she mumbled quietly.

“Alright then,” I said, rubbing my hands together in a business-like gesture. “How about it?”

“I can assist you with understanding the fundamental laws of this world, its comprehensive history, and the underlying principles of magic,” she clarified. “But I cannot provide much help with what you might refer to as ‘common knowledge.’”

“Huh? Why is that?” I asked, confused. “I thought you were the goddess of this entire world.”

“I was, but I resided within a separate divine realm. I have never once set foot upon this planet myself. My only connection to it was through observing and listening to the prayers of the people who worshipped in my name.”

“So you can’t tell us where any secret, legendary treasures are hidden?” Kyoto asked with a hopeful glint in his eye.

“I cannot.”

“What about sensitive information we could use to blackmail the world’s various leaders?” I tried.

“I would have no knowledge of such things.”

“Up-to-date market prices so we can avoid being scammed?” Kyoto pressed on.

“I’m sorry.”

“What kind of military strength and technological capabilities do the different nations possess?” I asked.

“Uuuh…”

Kyoto and I exchanged a look, then turned our unified gaze back to her. “That’s pretty… useless, isn’t it?” we said in perfect unison.

“UWAAAAA!” she wailed, burying her face in Ms. Latina’s shoulder and bursting into tears.

“You two!” Ms. Latina scolded, patting Zephyra’s back in a soothing rhythm.

“We apologize for being so blunt,” I said, “but sugarcoating the reality of the situation wouldn’t change the facts.”

“Uuu,” she sniffled, looking up at us with wide, tear-filled eyes. “I can teach you all sorts of different spells.”

My ears perked up at that. “Are you saying we can learn any kind of magic we want?”

“You can,” she confirmed, a bit of her confidence returning. “My knowledge of how to learn them remains perfectly intact. I can only serve as your guide, however; you must still possess the aptitude and meet the necessary learning requirements on your own.”

“That’s still absolutely incredible!” Kyoto was ecstatic once more.

“Yeah,” I added, a wide grin spreading across my face. “That will be incredibly useful.” In a world that was governed by magic, having a divine tutor was an advantage that could not be overstated.

“Then it’s settled. Welcome to the team, Miss Former Goddess. Let’s do a proper reintroduction. I’m Rylan Maxton, Half-FSA. Most people call me Axel, but Rylan or Max will work too.”

It felt like the perfect moment to solidify the bonds of our strange little group. Zephyra, as the newest member, went next.

“As I have mentioned, I am Zephyra Lixil Linuel Makia. I was once worshipped by many as the Goddess Zephyra,” she said, her expression brightening considerably.

“Are there many people named Zephyra in this world?” I asked, sensing a potential complication.

“No, not at all. The name is considered sacred and is practically forbidden for mortals to use. Why do you ask?” She tilted her head, tapping a thoughtful finger against her cheek.

“It would probably be a bad idea for us to be calling you Zephyra in public, even if most people can’t see you. We should probably come up with a nickname for you. How about Lilu, or perhaps Vivi?”

“Mmm!” She beamed, a genuine, joyous smile that suited her features far better than her earlier sorrow. “I like those names very much! Please, call me Lilu or Vivi from now on!”

“I’m Matsuyama Kenji,” Kyoto said next. “But you can all just call me Kenji. There’s no need to use my family name.”

“Kyoto sounds better,” I stated casually. “I think I’ll stick with that.”

“Hey! Can’t you at least agree to call me Ken?”

“Nope. Kyoto is a good name. You look like a city boy, so it fits you. Besides, you’re the one who picked it for yourself in the first place.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose I did,” he conceded with a shrug.

“Ms. Latina, how about you?” I asked, turning to her.

“Please, do not call me Latina,” she said softly. “I am of Latin heritage from the city of Valenzia, it is true, but I do have a proper name.”

“Alright,” I said gently. “What is it?”

“It’s…” She hesitated, as if the word itself was a great weight upon her tongue. “Amara.” As she finally spoke her own name, a distinct shadow of pain flickered across her face.

“You don’t seem very happy about it. Is there something wrong?” I asked, fully prepared to drop the subject if it was too personal for her.

“The person who bestowed that name upon me… I despise him with all my heart,” she said, her voice tight with a grief that felt both old and raw. “It’s a polluted name, tied to old wounds and terrible memories. But it is also the name that the people I cared for most used to call me.”

“I see,” I said, pausing for a moment in thought. “Why not alter it slightly?”

“Alter it?”

“Yes. Change it just enough so that it is no longer the name given to you by the person you hate, but still recognizable enough to honor the memory of those you loved. Something like… Emara.” I watched her expression carefully as the idea began to settle in. “By changing just a single letter, you reclaim it. It becomes your own. Different, yet similar. A new name for a new life.”