Genuine Goodbyes

Snow drifts lined the outside of the tent, the white piles a stark contrast to the neon orange canvas. It was draining enough for Aria, fighting Lucifero, but it took everything she had just to drag Lacia out of the cold and into the tent—especially after sharing some of her own mana with her. She’d managed to muster enough strength to drag two sleeping bags overtop of Lacia and herself before she passed out, but even that was a chore.

After an exhaustive sleep, Aria found herself drenched in sweat despite the cold which only made her shiver. She was confident in her abilities, but fighting Lucifero alone wasn’t exactly the most ideal scenario. Still, she never would have thought she’d come face-to-face with a devil—much less the third-ranked of the Reverse Realm, Lucifero, yet the devil’s motives remained elusive. Why choose to torment Lacia, of all people, and what exactly did it gain by manifesting itself through her nightmares? The mention of a “gift” was peculiar, however.

“But there isn’t cause without a reason,” Aria whispered to herself. “Whatever it is her ‘gift’ is, it’s important to the devils.” She shuddered. “But how many are there? And the Erill Gate… Last time I checked, that was just an urban legend.” She shook her head. There were more important things to worry about at the moment; Lacia came first.

She crawled back into her sleeping back after changing out of her sweat-drenched clothes, immediately regretting the decision once the cold air struck her skin. Shivering, she poked her head out, keeping a watchful eye on Lacia, still unconscious. While she’d been able to pull them both from the nightmare, one, glaring problem remained.

“Or, really two, I guess,” Aria mumbled. “I know Lucifero is gone, but how do we know if the devil was able to relay information back to its friends or whatever? Like, we’re super dead if another devil shows up…” She sighed. “More importantly, our injuries followed us back to the real world, and if we don’t get medical help soon, we both might end up dying out here. Though, I guess I’m not quite as banged up as you are,” she said, taking note of Lacia’s condition.

Lucifero had drained most of her mana, and her actual life energy was highly unstable, teetering on the precipice of life and death. The ghostly paleness in her face was testament to just how close she had come to death. Aria watched as her pale, blue lips quivered under the fleece of the sleeping bag, body clinging to life by a fraying thread.

Aria wished she could do more, but as things stood, she was spent—there just wasn’t anything else she could do; the sleeping bag was enough of a struggle as is. Even so, she owed it to herself to keep her alive. After treating her like some kind of lab rat, the least she could do was keep her warm. Regardless of how she felt, though, Lacia would have to pull through via her own power. Watching as she slept, Aria realized she was the only thing that stood between Lacia and the clutches of death.

Suddenly, with a soft groan, Lacia opened her eyes for the first time in more than a day. She shifted beneath the weight of her sleeping bag, causing it to slip off. She tried to speak, but all she could muster was a weak whisper:

“Aria… We’re—” Her throat seized from the day air as she fell into a coughing fit before she could finish.

Aria shook her head. “Save it for later. Your body is working super hard to keep you alive. Like, you have no idea how close to death you are,” she whispered back. “Please, just try to save your strength right now.”

Lacia’s face contorted in pain as she fidgeted around before finally uncovering the same map Aria had been playing with, hidden beneath her sleeping bag. Weakly, she pointed to what Aria assumed was their current location.

“I— What are you trying to say?” Confusion plastered her face.

“Gila. West… Not east.”

“Gila? But Gila is west of… here…” Aria scrambled out of her sleeping bag, mimicking that of a caterpillar. She grabbed the map from the floor, turning it around as she realized her mistake. She met Lacia’s one-eye-open gaze, embarrassed. “I really thought I knew where we were going… I am so sorry.”

A deep exhale escaped Lacia’s icy lips. “Gate.”

Aria stared at her blankly for a moment, forgetting about the map in her hands. Slowly, she began to piece the puzzle together: the cold and snow, her misdirection, and the word ‘gate’. She threw her shoes on, eased Lacia into her sleeping bag, and rushed out of the tent, headlong into the blinding snow. A minute later, she returned, a gleeful smile on her face.

“You’re so full of surprises, I swear. I can’t believe you found the Gila border gate! Although,” she averted her gaze, “I suppose you kept it a secret because you didn’t trust me…”

Lacia shook her head, giving Aria a weak smile. “Don’t worry about it,” she mouthed. “Talk later.” The warmth from the sleeping bag was comforting, and her eyes were already heavy; she fell back into a contorted sleep.

Aria watched as her face transitioned from rest to torment. “Her dreams must be pretty vivid,” she said. “Her body is trying to release all of its pent-up stress, just trying to keep her alive, but all of that stress has to manifest itself somewhere. Unfortunately, these nightmares you will have to face alone.”

With a deep sigh, she left the tent for a second time, reemerging into the raging snowstorm, but if her hunch was correct, there was a way to ensure their survival. At the very least, she might have figured out how to find a sturdier shelter.

“Border gates are made of titanium, so they’re pretty resilient. Still… They’re usually pretty heavily guarded. Why didn’t we trip any magic sensors when we approached?” Despite all the awkward stumbling around in the snow, neither she nor Lacia had triggered any alerts. “I wonder… After the flash freeze, is it possible the sudden temperature change weakened the locks on the gate at all? I might be able to get it open, if so.”

Trudging through the ever-growing snow drifts, she stumbled around until she finally found the front entrance, but, to her surprise, she was able to turn the locks with ease; the entire gate had been left unlocked. She poked her head through the widening front entrance, finding only a dimly lit, empty corridor and piles of discarded armor alongside broken torch hilts, and tattered clothes. Did the guards just up and leave for no reason, or did something force them to leave?

“Ok. This is creepy,” she said, walking through the now-open entryway. “Why would they leave their border unguarded like this?” She poked around further, searching for any signs of life. “Hate to admit it, but I’m a curious girly. What happened here?” she whispered aloud.

Taking in the full scope of the border gate’s interior, it reminded her of a train tunnel, but bigger. Concrete made up most of the tunnel, but the occasional titanium support column seemed to be doing most of the structural work as they arced across the ceiling. Where windows once peered into the connecting landscape, thick, oak boards and steel grating now barred their view.

Border gates were usually illuminated by rows of OLED floor lights, but the only light that filled the desolate corridor was from a small orb Aria had conjured so she could see. Innumerable footprints lined the dusty, concrete path, but they might as well have belonged to ghosts—no one was around.

“This time of year, the border gates are usually packed with people. While not my cup of tea, it would have been nice to see someone’s face other than Lacia’s and my own.” She walked for another minute before turning back, nearly out of breath; simple spells still drained her. “What is going on here? This definitely isn’t normal, but I guess, on the bright side, Gila’s border gate is almost identical to the one in the Aviid Isles. I’d like to explore more, but I might crash out if I’m not careful. I’m totally spent.”

While it hadn’t been the most opportune time, a school field trip had given her the chance to visit the island nation, only a year after the car accident that had taken her parents’ lives. She was reluctant at first; all she wanted to do was wallow in her sorrow, but she was glad she went; the information was invaluable at a time like this.

“If I remember correctly, this thing should work.” Finding a rusted lever along the wall, she flipped it up, revealing an entirely separate corridor. She put her hands on her hips, smiling. “The country of Gila is now open for business, courtesy of Aria Miruna.”

Licht and Brendan had alternated drivers at least four times before Mana finally woke up, having slept nearly the entire trip. They didn’t want to wake her, so they let her sleep, figuring she’d join them when she was rested enough. Of note, however, was the new air of confidence in her mannerisms and body language; Brendan was the first to pick up on the change, though he couldn’t help but wonder what all had happened during Mana’s visit with Omnis.

The night seemed to drag on as Licht dozed in the passenger seat. Considering his lack of magical practice, Brendan wondered just how well he would be able to protect his friend. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to Licht, but he was a walking library of random knowledge—something in that head of his could be the advantage they needed. Even so, he lacked the power to protect himself, and that worried him.

Brendan gave Licht a small nudge. “Hey, would you mind waking Mana up for me? We’re only a couple hours from Buunit, and we have no idea what could be waiting for us there. Best to be prepared, just in case, you know?”

Licht lifted his head from the slack in his seatbelt. “On it,” he yawned. “Has she been asleep all night? I feel like this is what they call beauty sleep.”

Brendan chuckled. “Ok. I’ll give you that one.”

Licht rubbed Mana’s shoulders, giving her a slight jolt. Nothing. He tried again, a little harder. She groaned, stirring for the first time since the evening prior. Several small pops emanated from her joints as she stretched out in the backseat, still sleepy-eyed.

“Good morning,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Err… What time is it?” She poked her head between the front seats, eyeing the time on the car’s radio. “You were supposed to wake me up last night,” she scolded, “not this morning.”

“Apologies, but you were sleeping so soundly, we hated to wake you,” Licht said.

“Guys, it’s literally,” she did a double take, “nine in the morning…? But where’s the sun?” By all technicalities, it was still night. “Why is it still dark outside?”

“What time?” the boys said in unison.

“Have you not been looking at the clock at all? What did you guys do all night?” She shook her head. “Actually, it’s fine, but,” she decided to change the subject, “doesn’t this sound like a popular Alurian folktale, though? Something about the sun losing its light after the opening of a gate or two or something?” She wracked her brain, unable to remember much else. “That’s all I’ve got, honestly. It’s been a long time since I last heard the story.”

“I think what you’re talking about,” Licht started, “is indeed a folktale, but it goes way back, something that originated when the Lhumin and Greyriter families first migrated to Alura.” Licht motioned for Mana to sit back. “You see, your families were involved in more than just the Searing Wounds event. They were the first people to settle in Alura,” he continued. “When they arrived, they uncovered something dark.”

“Something… dark?” Mana repeated.

Brendan’s curiosity was piqued as well. “Well, you have my attention, now.”

“We’d be here all day, or night, I guess, if I explained everything,” Licht said, “so I’ll make this short.”

Snow flurries began to stick to the windshield. A fresh dusting of snow covered the road ahead as it blew across the highway, caught in the car’s high beams. The sun still hadn’t risen, and the blowing snow was beginning to limit visibility.

“The folktale talks about a series of gates, I think six, but in order to open them, a sacrifice had to be made—something very specific, but I can’t remember what.” Licht’s voice began to shudder. “If the gates were ever opened, they would allow interdimensional travel to and from the Reverse World. A place where devils and other devious beings reside.”

“Hey,” Brendan spoke up, “Since we’re so close to Buunit now, why don’t we stop and get something to eat? We can continue our conversation there,” he suggested. “Besides, we still don’t have a plan for Lacia. This could be a good opportunity to kind of get us more organized.” Mana’s face lit up at the mention of food. “Is that okay with you two?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Licht said, “and Brendan’s right. Plus, judging by the look on your face, Mana, you have no idea where we are, do you?”

“Umm, yeah. Where’s Buunit?” she asked, embarrassed.

Nestled in the far, northern territory of Alura, Buunit was a place where only the hardiest of people lived. Summers were pleasantly cool, but it was brutally cold and snowy most other times of the year. The small, sleepy town had nothing to offer in terms of attractions, though it was frequently labeled one of the most beautiful places in northern Alura. Pictures of the town almost always depicted a winter wonderland: snowy rooftops, trees coated in white, hanging icicles. Aside from the infrequent passing car, most people walked to where they needed to go; driving was usually a hassle.

Buunit’s wintery beauty was exactly what Mana had expected, despite having never visited. One final cloud of snow blew over the car, obscuring the windshield, before the town finally came into view, but it seemed they weren’t the only ones paying Northern Alura a visit; a new storm system had begun to push in, engulfing cars in piles of even more heavy, wet snow.

Brendan turned on the car’s low beams out of courtesy for other drivers, but it seemed everyone had already gone inside—even the snowplow drivers knew the effort was moot. Still, most homes and businesses were dark, despite the approaching sunless afternoon. Flickering through the blowing snow, the lights of a small diner came into focus—seemingly, the only place open in town.

“Still better than being out in the storm,” Brendan thought as he pulled in, parking away from the snow drifts. The diner had a modern feel to it but seemed to embrace more of a progressive theme: Several AI walked back and forth, emptying boxes of food. Walking in, an overhead voice greeted them:

“Welcome to Nu-Landia. The best dining experience in all of Alura! Please take a seat.”

Wiping their shoes on a quick-drying, heated mat, Mana and Brendan embraced the warmth of the running heater. Licht, on the other hand, barreled past the pair, mesmerized by the human-like AI restaurant staff; if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought they were real people.

Mana and Brendan took a seat in the center of the diner, lost in thought as they gazed through the panoramic wall of windows, joined by the silent, winter landscape. Perhaps the most surprising thing about the diner, aside from the AI staff, was the masterful blend of sleek oak support beams and metallic finish, giving the place a touch of modernity mixed with more post-modern styles. Without warning, a set of holographic menus appeared in front of the two, highlighting fan-favorite dishes—menu items from decades ago remade to suit modern tastes. As the menus scrolled, Mana and Brendan wondered just how much food a handful of AI could make.

“Please take a seat,” the overhead speaker repeated as Licht joined Mana and Brendan at the table.

“Great!” Mana said, satisfied. “Now that we’re all here, there’s a few things we need to think about before we start our search for Lacia.” She looked around the table, noticing the anxious looks on Licht’s face. “Is there something wrong?”

“There’s something I do need to say, yeah.” He seemed to fumble with his words. “As much fun as it’s been, I think it’s probably time I break off here. Err… Don’t get me wrong, I want to help you guys out still, but I don’t think I’m real capable.”

Snow continued to drift against the exterior windows of the diner. The only thing keeping the cold out was the warm LED lighting and heat from the kitchen that seeped into the dining area. The sudden silence merged with the falling blanket of snow, Mana and Brendan’s mouths searching for the words to say, but they were at a loss. A faint tune played from the tower speakers at the back of the diner as it faded into the background, replaced by the occasional scrape of a metal spatula and howling of the wind outside; the silence was omnipresent, otherwise.

“Well, I’ll support you in whatever decision you make,” Mana said, breaking the silence stalemate. “I feel like the world is crying—it’s in pain. I really think three heads are better than two, and I want to be totally honest with you, Licht. I feel safer with you around, but I know you feel like you’re not able help us much.” She put a hand on her chest. “You’ve been such a huge help, though. Like, I literally lost my best friend and then found out the world’s in trouble, so you’ve been great, really. We wouldn’t have made it this far without you, even,” she said. “We aren’t going to force you to come along with us. That wouldn’t be fair.”

Brendan nodded in agreement. “Mana’s right. As your friend, I can’t put you in more danger than what I already have, but,” he paused, “the knowledge you have of Alurian history and whatever this stuff with the Reverse World is, isn’t something either of us have.” He looked into Mana’s eyes; she didn’t want to see Licht go, either.

“I suppose you’re in luck then,” Licht said. “I’m not totally useless!” He pulled a small, spherical device from his pocket, placing it on the table in front of him. “This thing here will allow me to see and hear you wherever you are. Likewise, I’ll be able to communicate through it, too.”

Brendan and Mana studied it like an Anatomy test. The sleek, aluminum design was smooth and pleasant to the touch. It looked like something out of a science fiction movie: white body, electric blue trim, and a small, mechanical hum. Beyond its outward appearance, though, it didn’t seem like anything special. Several crevices were carved into the device; a charging port or control panel was likely hidden beneath one of several, outlined, removable plates.

Mana grabbed the device and held it in her hand, surprised to find it was incredibly lightweight. It couldn’t have been more than six or seven inches in diameter, just small enough to tuck away in a bag somewhere. It was cute, but she had no idea what it did, or when Licht had found the time to make such a thing. She handed the device back.

Turning it around, Licht flipped a small switch hidden beneath one of the removable panels, leaving it on the table as he moved to the back of the diner for a demonstration. He retrieved another one of the strange devices from the pocket of his coat, flipping the same switch on the second device as he did the first.

With a series of shrill chirps and whirs, both devices sprang to life simultaneously. Licht’s transformed itself into a clampable earpiece; the one on Brendan and Mana’s table became a holographic display, projecting real-time images and audio through thin air—no cords, device pairing, or cell towers needed.

“As long as you have one of these on you, we can communicate with each other, regardless of how far apart we are. I’ll show you.” Licht lightly tapped the earpiece. The hologram changed, revealing Mana and Brendan as it tracked their movements and voices.

“So, this is what you were working on while you were in that decaying shantytown,” Brendan said, impressed. “I bet you even called it a Leyliner, and I’d also bet it probably draws mana from the Earth’s actual leylines.” He grinned. “Did I get it?”

Mana was too stunned for words; she’d never seen anything like it before. Her eyes darted between Licht and the device on the table. In a normal world, she’d propose starting a business, but seeing as the world was apparently on the brink of destruction, she figured she’d save it for later. Still though, his mechanical prowess was impressive. Did he really want to leave? She had a hard time believing he felt as useless as he said he did.

“Spot on, my friend,” Licht winked. “It’s not perfect, but I've been clunking away at this thing for a while now,” he said, admiring his handiwork.

An idea popped into Brendan’s head. “Hey, so you two know how we only have one car right now, yeah? What if we let Licht take the car and we use our magic to reach the border gate? If you can propel us, Mana, I can reduce drag from the air and keep us warm.”

“Hmm… We’re not too much farther, are we? Because that’s totally genius, if so,” she said. “My magic isn’t perfect. It’s still incomplete, even after the visit with Omnis, but it’s starting to come back, little by little….” She turned to face Licht, now seated across from her. “So, how do we use the Leyliner? Like, does it follow us? Are we supposed to carry it, or…?”

“Actually, when you use it in earpiece mode, it allows you to talk to me directly. As long as you have it on, I can see and hear everything as if I were with you. Of course, you can turn these features on or off depending on personal preference. I wouldn’t want to intrude on something I wasn’t supposed to hear.”

Mana raised an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean, exactly? Surely you’re not speaking from experience, right?” She closed her eyes, giving him an eerie smile.

“Give me a little credit,” he laughed. “Besides, whoever the Leyliner is registered to is the only one who can change its settings, and there have to be two, unique, biosignatures for the pair to activate.” He flipped another small switch on the side of his Leyliner. “By flipping this switch, it becomes a chip that you can stick to your skin. It peels off super easy, but it won’t wash off, fall off, blow away—it’ll stay on until you take it off. Likewise, only the person the Leyliner is registered to can remove it.”

Mana flipped the switch on hers, following Licht’s demonstration, as she placed the chip on the back of her wrist. She waved her hand through the air, ran it under the restroom faucet—she even stuck it under the hand drier, but it stayed right where she placed it.

“This thing is… interesting,” she said.

Licht laughed. “You just have to focus your mana on the spot you put it on, and it’ll stay there, even if you forget. The only drawback to this mode is it’s limited to visuals-only, but it still provides environmental feedback. While you were in the bathroom, I received an alert about a sudden change in the environment, though it was just the sink, I’m sure, knowing how you like to test things, first.”

Brendan praised the demonstration for its simplicity, though he couldn’t help but feel like Licht had used the Leyliner as a pivot, avoiding further questions about his plans to depart from the group.

“I need to know where you’re gonna be staying, man,” Brendan said, taking the lead on conversation. “Like, if you tell me you’re going to sleep and eat in the car, I will find you and lock you in a hotel room until you decide to quit sleeping in the car.”

“I have friends in high places,” he replied with a grin, “but hotel rates are expensive, and bunking with an old friend in Seria would be easier. Even so,” he said, “what would your solution be to the nightly room rates?” Brendan reached into his pocket, presenting a crumpled piece of paper where he’d logged every hotel stay of his own; he had accumulated over a year of free nights. “I rest my case, then,” Licht laughed.

“Huh. Well, now that that’s settled,” Mana said, contentedly, “let’s enjoy our food. I’m starving!”

“No,” Licht said. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I’m far better suited to support you guys from behind than I am from the front.” He shook his head. “There are things I need to take care of myself, but it won’t take long.”

Mana and Brendan looked at each other, then back at Licht. “We might be saying goodbye for a while, then, I guess,” Mana said, melancholy. She looked up, snow falling onto her face. “Still, you’ve been wonderful. We never would have found Lacia without you. Like, how do I repay your kindness and all the help you’ve given us?”

“There’s no need,” Licht said. “I had a feeling something was off when you two showed up. I chose southern Alura because it’s the one place no one would come looking for me, that is, unless something serious happened.” He gestured towards Mana and Brendan. “For example.”

Mana exhaled sharply, her breath a white cloud in the frigid evening air. She felt like she was losing another important part of her life. While they hadn’t known each other long, Licht had helped patch the hole Lacia had left when she disappeared. Still, she wished he didn’t have to leave. His smile was infectious, and the goofy drawl he had when they first met was kind of funny—in a good way; she appreciated that.

The snow grew heavier as she wrapped her arms around her body for warmth. Dim streetlights struggled to illuminate the diner parking lot, now buried beneath several inches of fresh snow. She wondered how Licht would make the drive back to Seria in such treacherous conditions. Seeing as the town’s only snowplow had called it quits, how was he planning on getting to Seria, much less out of the parking lot? To her dismay, even the highway lights had flickered off one by one, plunging the roadways into darkness.

“I get that you feel like you’re safer staying behind, but it’s too dangerous to travel right now. Unless you have a solution for that, too?” The intonation in her voice rose.

“As long as I go slow, I’ll be fine. Plus, it’s easier to drive on snow than ice, so I’ll be ok. Can’t cause much damage if you’re not even going ten miles per hour, right?” he laughed. “Besides, I managed to find some abandoned tire chains!”

“I guess that’s fine, but be extra safe, okay? Things will probably only get crazier from here, and Brendan and I have no idea what we’re getting into.” She gazed into the distance, past the snow-covered buildings. “It’s so barren out there… Who knows what’s waiting for us…”

Without warning, she wrapped her arms around Licht, locking her fingers behind his back in a giant bear hug. He was surprisingly warm, and she could feel his heartbeat. There was no stopping him from leaving, as much as she wished she could; it would be selfish of her to ask him to stay.

Surprised, Licht almost lost his footing in the snow. Hugs weren’t his thing, and he wasn’t a big fan of people violating his personal space, but something about Mana’s hug felt different; he could feel the sadness and fear in her heart, yet the tiniest shred of hope still burned bright within her. In less than a month, they’d gone from complete strangers to good friends; he was going to miss her presence.

“Licht,” Brendan said as Mana released her hug, “be safe. We’ll be in touch once we get a little closer to the gate.” He gave Licht a hug of his own, complete with a pat on the back and subsequent handshake. “If you need us, call us—or however these Leyliners work,” he joked.

Tears began to well in Licht’s eyes. “Mana, thank you for being such a genuine person. Your resolve and determination have opened my eyes. I used to hide, trying to avoid the world, afraid of the evil in it. After meeting you, I realized that it wasn’t the world I was afraid of—it was myself. I didn’t think there were people like you still left out there, so I just ran away from the things that scared me.”

“Licht, please don’t cry,” Mana said, noticing the tears in his eyes. “You’ll make me cry. I need you to be strong for both of us, ok?”

“Ok, ok,” Licht said, wiping away his tears. “You two be safe as well. I’ll do everything I can on my end to support you. Now go find Lacia. If fate brought the three of us together, I’m sure Lacia and I will cross paths as well someday.”

Mana handed Licht a small piece of paper. “I know it’s kind of useless right now, but I’d like to get to know you better once all of this is over. Besides,” she said, shuffling her feet in the snow, “I realized I never gave you my phone number. I know it seems kind of high schooler-ish, but who knows what’ll happen?”

Licht smiled. It was a simple gesture, but it meant more than she could have imagined. It warmed his heart to know someone who barely knew him believed in him, and so passionately, at that. He’d find a way to thank her properly later, but for now, he’d make sure to keep the phone number safe.

“Sounds good!”

“I know goodbyes can be bittersweet, Brendan, but you don’t have to cry. It’ll be alright. We’ll see him again,” Mana teased.

Brendan sniffled, still cold. “You just like to tease people, don’t you?”

She smirked. “You don’t have to hide your feelings around me. I promise you’re free to express yourself as you please.”

“I’m going to ignore you and let you handle the Leyliner,” Brendan said, clearly not amused. “We should be at the gate soon, right?”

“You’re real fun,” she pouted. “but yes, we should be there shortly.”

She was excited to see Lacia again, and there was so much to tell her. From Licht and the earthquake to Madame Lucero’s shop in Seria and even Omnis, there was no lack of material to talk her ear off about, but who was the other person she’d seen with her back in Seria? It wasn’t that it bothered her or anything, though. While Lacia had said there was too much to explain, it didn’t seem like she was in trouble or anything. Still, she couldn’t help but feel like something was off. As her thoughts began to drift, so did control over her spellcasting.

“Mana, please focus,” Brendan said, struggling to maintain his position above the snow.

The trip had been a mostly seamless glide thanks to Mana’s newfound command over her magic up to that point, but Brendan had underestimated their speed as the wind bit through the shield he’d cast to keep them warm; the wind chills were brutal, and Mana’s lack of focus only hindered his own spellcasting, having to pick up the slack.

“Huh? Oh! I’m so sorry, Brendan. I was thinking about Lacia. I guess I let my mind wander a little too much, though. Sorry, again,” she said, readjusting their glide. “By the way, have you noticed how deep the snow is now? We passed a few road signs a while back that were almost completely buried.”

“It’s incredible. I’ve never seen so much snow in my life,” he said, “but a storm like this in May is weird, even for northern Alura.” He looked over to find Mana fidgeting with the Leyliner. “Are you going to be able to use that thing and keep us straight?” he asked, worried.

“Yes. Have at least a little faith in me, would you?” she frowned. “But, uhh, It was this switch, right?” The Leyliner transformed from its spherical shape into the earpiece Licht had demonstrated back at the diner. “Okay, so, this thing functions by using the magical energy within the earth itself, leylines, but how does it transmit back? Did Licht ever explain that part?”

“Here,” Brendan said, offering to take the device. “I’ll set it up so you can focus on the road… wherever it is.” The further north they went, the heavier the snow seemed to get.

After another minute of button pressing, Brendan finally got the device working. “Licht? Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Licht’s voice came. “You know, I really outdid myself with these things! I should start a business or something!”

“Riiight…” Mana mumbled. “And to think I was going to be the one who got to tell him the Leyliners were a cool business idea…”

“I can’t believe these things work this far out.” Brendan’s voice was filled with wonderment. “Can you see what we’re seeing? I want to make sure I’m understanding how this thing works.”

“Well,” Licht paused, “either there’s a problem with the Leyliner or you’re looking at a white wall.”

“Look, man. While you’re away, you need to work on your jokes, too. Anyways, with all of this snow, it kind of is like looking at a white wall. I’m amazed at how heavy it is now.” An overhead road sign showed a coming fork in the road: left for Gila, right for Alura. “We’re almost to the border now.”

“I see,” Licht said, “or, don’t see. Regardless, I’m happy the Leyliner is functioning properly. Even if you cross into Gila, the Leyliner should still work as it draws its power from the leylines in the Earth, like I said.”

“Ok, yeah. That’s what I thought,” Brendan confirmed. “For a change of scenery, would you like to say hi to Mana?” Brendan asked, turning his head to face her.

She waved, keeping her spellcasting steady. “I can kind of hear him, but I think it’s because you have the volume up so loud. We should have asked him if there was a way to share some kind of audiovisual link between us.”

“Good point… Hey, is there a way to share your voice with Mana, so that she can hear you, too?”

“Hmm… That might be possible if I expand the device’s ROMT field,” Licht explained. “Before you ask, it stands for Range of Magical Transmission. Basically, by expanding the field, anyone within that new range would be able to hear anything that comes through your Leyliner. Unfortunately, visual information is still only limited to that of the wearer.”

“So, the current range must only be like a foot or two, then. I guess that makes sense,” Brendan surmised.

A faint, static hiss caught Mana’s attention. “Did you hear that or was it just me?” she turned to look at Brendan.

“Don’t panic, it’s just me.” Licht’s voice echoed through her ears as if he were standing next to her. “You can hear me, right?”

“Oh, so a link is possible. You sound really clear. Like, I feel like you’re here with us,” she joked. “I don’t suppose you can also see what I’m seeing, can you?”

“No, unfortunately not, but with some work, I might be able to implement a similar feature in a future software update. Well, actually,” he paused. “There might be a workaround.”

“Workaround?” Mana and Brendan repeated.

“Yes,” Licht replied. “If you both feed your mana into the Leyliner at the same time, I should be able to see what you see, but you only need to use a small amount.”

Mana did as instructed, funneling a small amount of mana into the Leyliner with Brendan, but it was risky. The rest of the trip to the Gila border gate had taken longer than she’d expected, and her mana was beginning to dwindle. Still, it was a necessary sacrifice. If she became separated from Brendan, she doubted she’d be able to find him in the blizzard.

“Combined with the lack of streetlighting, I might as well be blind,” she thought.

“There. That’s enough! I can see what you’re seeing now, Mana,” Licht’s voice was giddy.

“You’re right,” she said, surprised. “It really doesn’t take much. Unfortunately, I really don’t have much.”

Mana slowed the glide as she cut back on her mana consumption, hoping to preserve just enough so she could still get them to the border gate. She could sense they were close, but a two-minute glide would become a thirty-minute walk if she ran out of mana, and without much protective clothing, the possibility of freezing to death was all too real.

Her consciousness faded in and out for a moment; she didn’t even remember blacking out, but her eyes felt heavy, vying for a long rest. “I can’t believe I’m hitting my limit now of all times,” she said. “We’re so close. Just a little more…”

“Mana, stop here. We aren’t far. We can walk the rest, okay?” Brendan called, trying to keep her mind stimulated. When did he notice her mana was getting low?

Suddenly, juxtaposed against the wall of snow, a neon orange shape began to dance on the horizon. “We’ll use that as a guide, then,” Brendan said, taking note of the deteriorating situation. “I have more than enough mana to keep us warm as we walk.”

“I’m fine,” Mana emphasized, teeth chattering.

“You’re literally over there blacking out.” He toggled the Leyliner to audio only. “Sorry, Licht. I’ve gotta hang this thing up. Mana has used up all of her magic, and we need to find shelter. I’ll give you a call when we’re safe.”

“Not a problem! Just be careful, both of you. Mana, just listen to Brendan. I can hear the tiredness in your voice. I’ll check in with you guys a little later.” With a click, the Leyliner fell silent.

Brendan took his coat off, folding it as he placed it on the ground. “Sit for a few. Take a break, and let your mana recover a little bit.”

Realizing she wasn’t going to win the ensuing argument, she gave in. “Just for a few, then, okay?”

“If you’re blacking out, you’ll need more than a few minutes, but we also can’t stay out here for very long. I’m a little low on mana too, but you used way too much of yours way too fast. Your magic control also still needs work, but there’s no time for that right now,” he explained. “Magical energy is like a phone. There is a way to recharge it while you use it. For now, though, I just need you to rest.”

“Sorry, Brendan,” she sighed. “I don’t mean to cause you so much troub—” A metallic, clanking sound echoed through the raging blizzard. “Did you hear that just now?”

“Yeah, and it was loud. Do you think it could be—?”

“Someone opening a border gate?” Mana finished his sentence.

“You see that orange thing, right? It sounded like it came from somewhere in that direction.”

Mana squinted, aimlessly searching the dark, snowy horizon for anything orange. “I think I see something. It looks like it might be orange, but I’m also super tired. I’m… not sure if I’m actually seeing what’s really there or not.”

“Hey, Licht? Sorry to bother you again so soon,” Brendan called, tapping the Leyliner, “but do you think you could zoom in on that orange thing for me?”

“Master technological architect Licht at your service,” he jested. “You sure do ask for a lot, you know? What do you think Leyliners are? Cameras?”

“Kind of?” Brendan admitted. “And you know I would rarely ask you for anything, so don’t try me, pal. Besides, I know you too well. You’d never forget such an important feature. What else would the camera lens on this thing be for?”

Mana snickered. “You two fight like a married couple. It’s kind of cute, you know? Just admit you’re in lo—”

“Hey, Mana? How do you feel about being left in the snow?”

“Oh, now come on, Brendan. It was just a joke…”