text: Dhane woke with a distant ringing in his ears. He was lying on a stone slab inside an exceptionally decorated room. The walls were painted in swirls of gold and silver, like heavenly clouds, bright from both sunlight and moonlight hitting the shapes from different sides.
  
  It was a small room. One entire side formed an archway out into a vast garden, covered in every type of flower and color, beneath a dim, early morning sky. Water dribbled nearby, running along a stone channel that connected with a small basin.
  
  A lean man—white hair, eyebrows, and robe, all seemingly designed to match—stepped inside. He wasn't an old man, probably no older than thirty. His eyes mimicked the walls with flakes of gold and silver. "Welcome, Dhane," he said kindly and with a warm smile.
  
  Dhane sat up and swung his legs over the slab's side, noting for obvious reasons, that he wasn't wearing a shirt. This didn't seem to bother the man.
  
  "I am Owen, your Reditus." The word triggered new knowledge. A Reditus was like a priest that helped people return from death. They were counselors, therapists, listeners. Death could most certainly be a traumatic experience, which allowed the Reditus to soothe such distresses.
  
  Owen sat on the slab. "There's nothing to be ashamed of dying during the act."
  
  "The . . . act?" Dhane asked.
  
  "Of sex—or passionate lovemaking, if you prefer. You'd be surprised at how often strangulation is taken too far, oftentimes, on purpose. I've heard there's nothing better than the orgasm of death."
  
  Oh, shit brownies. That sounded terrible. "I didn't die," Dhane said, looking for the right word and deciding to copy the priest's verbiage, "in the act."
  
  "Ah! I have jumped to the wrong conclusion, yet again. And you are mostly clothed. A good fourth of our Returned are naked and embarrassed, not that they need to be."
  
  "That doesn't seem odd to you?"
  
  "What is this world but oddities? The moment you think you've seen it all, something will come and turn your world upside down." His words were accented with something, and the man looked deeply into Dhane, producing a rather cold and alien touch.
  
  Dhane projected his affinity of Light and divinity, not entirely appreciating the touch and certainly not wanting to reciprocate. Then again, calling for the affinity of a Reditus may be considered disrespectful.
  
  "So! Dhane, follower of the Sisters of Death, would you like to tell me how you died?"
  
  There was something about the man that didn't feel . . . human. In a way, he seemed similar to Gameus: no aura of warmth. It was sort of a disconnection from normality.
  
  It was quite possible this man could see through lies with those arcane, godlike eyes of his. And so the best answer to give was a simple, "No thanks."
  
  "I understand," Owen said. "And though you have not partaken of my services—which are open to you at any time, whether or not you have recently died—would you mind donating some mana?"
  
  "You need mana?"
  
  "Yes, the cemetery requires mana to work. And while it may seem odd, the Reditai do not have any mana in this world. We work entirely off of donations."
  
  Owen summoned a pearlescent orb from the air. It slid down his hand, then up onto the tip of his finger, spinning slowly. "Any donation will help."
  
  Dhane considered this, then shrugged. He summoned 89 of his 90 mana—not wanting to give it all lest he became Mana Drunk—and applied the swirling liquid of power to the orb.
  
  Owen's eyes glowed a little, infused with shimmering flakes of gold and silver. He drew his brows together, a pinch of distaste or perhaps confusion wrinkling his nose. "Your mana is . . . quite pure."
  
  "Mana has purity levels?"
  
  "Oh yes, there is mana of Light and of vile Shadow." The way he said it seemed to imply he was expecting a tainted form of mana, as if he wasn't really after a donation at all.
  
  Oh, shit brownies. Dhane died to throw people off his trail and yet here they were, a mana hound, testing him for impurities. But he passed! Even if there were suspicions, they had no proof. Their test failed and since he was of Light, their tests would always fail.
  
  Dhane stood and quickly equipped his black shirt. Simply having a thin layer of fabric to cover himself with, seemed to dispel whatever was happening in the priest's head.
  
  Owen stood and smiled, then offered his hand. They shook, and he said, "We appreciate your donation, Dhane of Light. Please go with peace and return should you find yourself in need of a good ear."
  
  Dhane plastered on one of his fake ass smiles, nodded, said his farewell and left in such a way to reveal none of his uncertainties that boiled beneath the surface.
  
  Outside in the garden, a dozen guards turned their stares on him, but did nothing to stop him from leaving. It was then and there Dhane vowed to never die again, to never speak to a Reditus priest, to never give the people of Light a reason to be suspicious at all.
  
  From then and there, he'd be a model citizen.
  
  Argh, shit! He barely had twenty minutes before training would start for the day. He sprinted down the street, past groups of people talking in wild excitement, past the ruins of a building that had lost one too many support beams and toppled over.
  
  Good distraction? Octoralis projected.
  
  Dhane jumped at the sudden mental intrusion, then twisted and turned, entirely expecting the large spider to be here in the busy street, in broad daylight.
  
  But she wasn't.
  
  The only things he found were the confused and curious stares from onlookers, no doubt wondering how the crazy guy escaped from the local asylum. No, there was no local asylum. Maybe they needed one. . ..
  
  He tried to quiet the rush of his thoughts and projected back, Yes, it was a good distraction. This brought a swirl of happy warmth through his chest, a feeling that fought against the wave of itchy terror, as if spiders had burrowed into his skin, into his mind.
  
  There was no time for this, no time to tear his clothes off and poke around them with a shoe of +1 Spider Squishing. All he could do was hope, really hope, that there were no tiny spiders on him, whispering into his ear.
  
  I not physical, Octoralis projected. You have strange fear, Daddy.
  
  To which Dhane responded with a series of emotions, ranging from anger to fear to annoyance. This seemed to quiet the soul spider of haunting, leaving him to concentrate on where he was.
  
  He turned at one street early, opting to avoid Nick's booth lest the man wanted to ask him about the broken armor, or load him up with new projects. This led to a rather long detour, and by the time he reached Cali Bali, he managed to run out of Stamina.
  
  Penny was sitting at the bar, picking at the food on her plate. She turned a curious glance his way, then brightened immediately with a radiant smile. "You're back!"
  
  "But . . . not . . . for long," he said between breaths. Nick hadn't been kidding about expending all of his Stamina. Every muscle in his body seemed to burn, his lungs were dry and scraped with each inhale and exhale, making him cough. "I have . . . to get to the arena before I'm late. But wanted to see you first."
  
  "Of course, you've got training. I'm just so glad you're not out there anymore. What happened?"
  
  "Death, death"—breathe—"and more death. Good thing we can't truly die."
  
  "Take this," she said and handed him her cup. "You're crazy. You know that, right? Aren't you afraid of dying?"
  
  He took a drink of something sweet. It immediately gave him back 20 Stamina and removed his Exhausted trait. "What is this?"
  
  "Oh, it's Oomvat Berry juice and . . . slightly spiked. I had a terrible night, okay? Don't you, of all people, judge me. It's your fault. How am I supposed to sleep knowing you were stuck in the Wilds? Hmm?"
  
  Dhane placed the cup on the bartop and pulled her into a hug. "I'm truly sorry and most definitely in your debt."
  
  "My debt?" she asked, pulling away. "The PK guild said some massive spider pulled you up into the trees." She shivered at the thought. "They failed and returned my payment...."
  
  "Yes, that did happen," he said. "I can definitely check off being food for giant baby spiders from my bucket list."
  
  Penny recoiled. "How are you even remotely sane right now? If only I acted sooner...."
  
  Dhane laughed. "And here I thought you liked spiders!"
  
  "Not ones that eat you! And I was joking . . . teasing, flirting, whatever you want to call it."
  
  "Look, it's not your fault that I was out there, Penny. And I'm in your debt because you were the only person who tried to help. But, gah, I have to run. Let's do something tonight at eight, okay?"
  
  "Really?"
  
  "Of course, I have to pay back my debts, right?"
  
  "Right," she said with that radiant smile of hers. "Tenfold!"
  
  "Ten restless nights. . . ." he said, then kissed her so she knew he would never ever, ever ghost her.
  
  Dhane made it to the arena with time to spare. He felt great, like he had chugged a 5-Hour Energy drink and was ready to get stuff done. It was a new day with a new challenge waiting. Perhaps this time, they'd win and score 5 extra silver.
  
  He jogged up the steps where the groups were talking among themselves. Devron waved him over. The man was all smiles. Even Aaliyah, sitting on the stairs, seemed in good spirits, which was definitely out of place for her.
  
  "What happened?" Dhane asked, suspiciously. "Why are you guys so happy?" Maybe they finally did the deed. . ..
  
  "Hells, man, we won!" Devron said.
  
  "Yesterday's challenge?"
  
  "You bet. And if it weren't for your bit of insight, it wouldn't have happened." Devron summoned 5 silver coins and handed them over. "That's your portion of our winnings."
  
  "What insight was that?"
  
  Aaliyah stood, arms crossed. "He's talking about loot. That the challenge ain't just about killing mobs and shit."
  
  "Truth!" Devron said, now beaming. "But that's neither here nor there. The other teams got wrecked something awful when the rabbit hit the fan, if you know what I mean. And since you died—"
  
  "Again," Aaliyah said.
  
  "Shh, lady, I'm telling the story this time."
  
  "Whatevs, man."
  
  "Anyway, where was I? You died! That's right. When you died, the soul stone transferred to Aaliyah. When she died, it transferred to me. And I thought, 'Well, I can just sit here and do nothing or pick herbs.' I mean, why not, right?
  
  "And that's what I did. Herbs, herbs, herbs, all day long. Turns out, you can make some decent money collecting herbs. And did you know that every stack of 10 herbs is worth more than selling them individually?"
  
  Huh, that was an interesting tidbit. It probably applied to all stackable items, at least to some degree. So 10x Duram Boar Meat would earn more than selling 10x of them individually. Kind of the opposite of wholesale.
  
  "And you know what?" Devron asked. "I wouldn't mind just going back out again to collect resources. I even got myself a sickle! Hells, man, it makes harvesting herbs more efficient. And while it's equipped, I can see other herbs, like your Ceraleaf. I couldn't even see them because I'm no assassin."
  
  "What about training?" Dhane asked.
  
  Aaliyah threw up her arms. "Man, that's what I've been asking. He's eager to ditch our party now that he's discovered his green thumb."
  
  "I'm not growing plants, Aali," Devron said. "I'm harvesting what's there. And I'm not saying we split the party or anything like that, but we don't need training, do we?"
  
  "Whatevs Dev, it's easy money, and you never know whatcha gonna learn. Yesterday it was herbs, today could be something better."
  
  "And that's why I'm still here, alright? Not taking off unless you two are on board."
  
  Aaliyah was about to say something else, though the arena door opened and Gorlan stepped out. The Master of Arena led a train of exhausted Cobalins, all hauling their own blocks of stone, all wearing scraps of clothing.
  
  The sight of them, their miserable state, their complete lack of hope, it was heart-wrenching. Then Kuby stepped out of the door, looking afraid, eyes skirting this way and that while trying to stay in line.
  
  The Cobalin spotted Dhane, and for the briefest of moments, the sides of his lips tugged upward. One of Gorlan's helpers cracked a thin stick against his back, making him cry out and stumble forward.
  
  "Today!" Gorlan said in his booming voice, holding an uncharacteristic grin. "You get to kill your first Cobalin!"
  
  The Cobalins didn't even react. They seemed entirely aware of why they were there. Perhaps death, to them, was a momentary release from this hell. Maybe they volunteered.
  
  With Gorlan's few words out and mixing with the groups, the man turned and entered the main gate to the arena. Everyone followed him through the maze of large hallways that eventually led out to the sands.
  
  There were a few Reditai off to the side, wearing their long white robes. All of them, male and female, had white hair like Reditus Owen, despite their otherwise youthful, serious complexions. Their eyes sparkled in the sunlight, shimmering bits of gold and silver.
  
  Had they always been at the trainings? Perhaps they were there to assist those who died. But if that was the case, he would have seen them on the first day of training after he died to the dummy bird.
  
  Devron frowned and whispered, "Ugh, man, I don't see what so grand about killing slaves. We could be independent, make our own choices, you know?"
  
  It wasn't a bad idea. In fact, being out on the arena floor where Cobalins were lining up to be slaughtered, leaving felt more and more like the right decision.
  
  Ever since he joined this training, he had taken on more risk of being discovered. What type of risk was there to just go out into the Wilds and harvest resources?
  
  A day of hard work, of exploration, of finding little treasures to bring back to the merchants, that sounded like so much fun. They could even buy rudimentary items, like an axe and pickaxe, to further improve yields. And should they run into the occasional mob, there was nothing wrong with a bit of experience.
  
  "Alright," he said and Devron looked surprised or . . . something: a flicker of different emotions.
  
  "You mean it?"
  
  "Yeah, I think going—"
  
  Gorlan thrust a meaty finger his way. "Winners of last challenge, you're first! Come!"
  
  Everyone turned to watch Dhane and his party. Kevin, being very un-Kevin-like, flashed him a thumbs-up and grinned. There really was no understanding that guy.
  
  Aaliyah tilted her head with a bit of exasperation toward where Gorlan waited. She seemed to say, Everyone is waiting, let's gooo! Then, when Dhane didn't move, she decided to lead the group instead.
  
  They walked to the front and a helper shoved Kuby from the line of Cobalins. The small, green Cobalin, stumbled into a circle, dug into the sand. He stood at the center, shaking and holding his stone.
  
  "Cobalins!" Gorlan yelled, "are of Shadow. They threaten our world, our people. Left unchecked, they bring destruction!" He pulled his great axe from his back and pointed it at Kuby. "Kill your Cobalin and gain rank. Be paid 10 silver instead of 5."
  
  It was like a brainwashing exercise. Everyone would be forced to kill a Cobalin to normalize it, to paint them as the enemy, and ensure no one even tried to talk with them, to understand them, to befriend them.
  
  Gorlan pointed his axe at Dhane. "You're first."
  
  Kuby slowly nodded his head, prepared to die. But why? Dhane volunteered to join this training, he most certainly could volunteer to leave it. And so he said, "I'm not killing a defenseless slave."
  
  "What!" Gorlan yelled.
  
  "And if this is the type of training we're to expect, I'm done. You can keep your silver."
  
  Gorlan's face scrunched up and darkened. A jagged vein, running from temple to forehead, throbbed, like his face was a mask and whatever underneath it, fought to escape.
  
  "Hells to the yeah," Devron said. "I'm done, too. This ain't what I signed up for. You don't teach anything, you throw challenges at us and watch us die. And you think this is some lesson? Where's the challenge? It's just sad, man. You've got a Cobalin fetish or something."
  
  "That's a mark!" Gorlan said. "To you both. Kill your Cobalin!"
  
  Dhane shook his head and turned away, stepping directly in the path of the Reditai, led by a tall woman with fine white skin and hair, perfectly tied to fall artfully down her back. Her eyes were more silver than gold.
  
  "Take the whole party," the woman said and guards marched forward at her command.
  
  Take? Dhane took a step back. All of the groups of trainees were watching with wide eyes. Some cupped their mouths, others were just loving the drama. Kevin seemed upset for some reason.
  
  "You have no jurisdiction here, priest!" Gorlan yelled. "These are my trainees. This is my arena!"
  
  "Is that true? It sounded like they left your counsel. Even so, we act on the Royals' authority in response to allegations from one of your own trainees. We are well within our rights."
  
  A trainee? It had to have been the red-head, the guy that had pointed at the giant spider behind Dhane right before dying to a horde of enraged rabbits, and the guy who current stared at the arena sands, unwilling to watch.
  
  "That is absurd!" Gorlan yelled.
  
  "You wish to train traitors, Master of Arena? We all have our responsibilities. If we're wrong, we'll pay these trainees their day's worth of silver and you can have them back. No harm done."
  
  A guard grabbed Dhane's arms, forcing them to the middle of his back, wrapping his wrists in something that surged with hot energy.
  
  "You're . . . arresting us?" Dhane asked. "For not wanting to kill a slave?" It was ridiculous, but at the back of his mind, he knew it was far more than just that. This had only fed more into their suspicions. Shit! And all he wanted to do was be a model citizen, to blend in.
  
  "I ain't with them!" Aaliyah yelled, shrugging off a guard. "You want me to kill a Cobalin, right? Ain't got a problem with that." She spun her spear around and marched up to Kuby, who was stiff-backed, holding his stone like a shield.
  
  Aaliyah swung the butt end of the spear around, slamming it against Kuby's stone and knocking it to the sand. She then triggered something and the spear shifted so the point was forward again. She jabbed the tip into Kuby's stomach.
  
  The Cobalin cried out and fell to his knees, the silvery-white of his soul leaking from the deep puncture wound. Then she struck again, and again, tearing the light out of him and spilling red damage numbers to float skyward.
  
  The glow of white started to envelop Kuby's form, but she kept attacking. "Goddammit, they are so stupid!" she yelled. "They just wanna pick herbs all day, though that ain't what this place is all about."
  
  Finally, with her last attack hitting nothing but sand, she stopped. She was . . . crying? It was so far from the Aaliyah he knew, Dhane didn't know what to do.
  
  All he could feel was a swirling mix of emotions, some not his own: a deep anger, a hate, a desire for justice for Kuby, for all of the Cobalins. Maybe they were his emotions, just reflecting back at him from the entity that shared his soul.
  
  I'll kill them! Octoralis projected. Daddy, please. Let me fight-fight-fight, I can do it, I can hurt them, give pain.
  
  No. The Reditai were only suspicious. If a giant spider appeared and started attacking everyone, that'd be the end of it. They'd know he was an entity of Shadow without a doubt.
  
  "I want the entire party," the Reditai leader said, her cold silver eyes taking in all the other trainees, as if daring them to force her hand and take more than just the one party.
  
  Aaliyah, now acting very much like Aaliyah, whipped her spear around and jabbed the tip into a guard's mouth. It looked like it would kill him in a single thrust, though she couldn't be more than a level 2, and the guard had armor.
  
  A -24 in white, shifted out of the guard and floated skyward. The guard staggered back and fell to the sand, just as another guard took his place. It required three guards to shove her to the sand and bind her hands with red rope.
  
  The Reditai leader stepped up to Dhane and whispered, "Your eyes betray you, shadowling. You cannot deceive me. I'll deliver the truth, and then you'll only know suffering for pretending to be one of us."
  
  Something like that really demanded a witty reply. Dammit! He wasn't in the right mindset for witty. But he also didn't quite care about respect or what was socially accepted. He called to her affinity, sought it with his soul, as if to take it and strangle it.
  
  And in doing so, grabbed nothing. No affinity of Light or Shadow, just an empty void. She smiled an eery smile, an inhuman smile. But then there was something deep within that void, as if hidden, a mystery, a thing to be discovered.
  
  Dhane smiled back and whispered, "Whatever you say, Veritus Scyla."
  
  She jerked away as if he had bit her nose, a flash of fear across her face. The reaction seemed so over the top until the knowledge at the back of his mind filled in the gaps.
  
  The Veritai were high ranked priests of the Light, truth seekers, hunters. And in being a truth seeker, they took on a secret name that only other Veritai would know. To know the name of his enemy gave him power.
  
  Oh, shit brownies. He had to just beat the damn hornets' nest with a baseball bat. There was no knowing what she thought, glaring at him from those silver eyes, but it couldn't be good.