Chapter 1

Memory is a tricky thing. There are things you know, and things that you are expected to know. Sometimes the things that you are expected to know are the things that you’ve never heard of. Oftentimes, you think that you know something, but in truth it actually never happened. Or vice versa.

All things considered though, I am not the person to lecture anyone on memory. What are the things that you must consider? Well, I am immortal. The shitty kind of immortal. The kind where I will never physically age past 17, which is how old I was when I died for the first time. The kind where I lose most of my memory each time I die. The kind where I cannot grow back body parts, and gain new scars to my collection each time I wake back up. At this point it is basically guaranteed that once I die- I will wake up three minutes later without a clue as to what is going on.

To be fair, there are a few things I always remember right away. I remember my name, Fred. I remember my gender, male. I remember things I like; cats, cakes, and ice cream. I remember this really funny joke I heard one time in 1984. I remember this totally banger party I went to back in 1922. I will always remember the plot to my favorite book, such a shame it went out of print.

I will always remember each time I died.

So far, I have died 49 times. It's a lot, but that’s how it is. At the very least, no one has tried to decapitate me, so far. Not sure how that would work out. My right eye is gone due to someone I barely remember scooping it out with a melon baller. A few of my toes are partially missing due to frostbite. If I could remember more than fragments, I bet those stories would be fun. Not fun for me- fun for you to listen to.

One time, I was burned at the stake. THAT was most certainly not fun. However, somehow I am not covered in burn scars. I guess whatever is keeping me alive cleaned that up a bit.

Have you ever woken up in the backseat of a car with a thick white blanket draped over you? I have. Or I am. I’m in the back of a car. It's going kind of fast. I reach up to pull the blanket off of my face. As I move, a bullet rolls off my forehead and down off the seat. I feel my face. There is a scar where someone shot me in the head. I glance over at the two men sitting in the front seat of the car. There is a brief flash to a few minutes ago as I can remember the sweaty bozo in the passenger side seat shooting me in the head.

I sit up, pushing away the blanket, and look at myself. I’m wearing a purple tube top, and booty shorts. That’s it. As I sat there, trying to figure out how I’d even gotten here, or who these people are, I realized that there is an obnoxious blaring sound coming from the front seat. The radio.

I reached forward to press the power button. The two men turned to stare at me. Oops. The car swerved as the driver was distracted. He quickly found a place to pull over. I sat back, making myself comfortable as the two went on about “what the fuck” and “what did you do” and “I thought he was dead it was your job to kill him you idiot.”

“Fellas, Fellas.” I put my hands on the backs of the seats and leaned forward. “I have no idea what is going on, but I’m sure that this can be resolved peacefully.”

Passenger side raised his gun again.

“Really?” I looked down at him with a softer expression. Like looking at a kid who messed up. I glanced at the rear view mirror as I pointed at my forehead. There was a lot of blood. “That didn’t work the first time. What makes you think that it will this time? Why can’t we just talk this out?”

Passenger Side glanced at my chest. The tube top was slipping. You could see old scars across my chest, clearly from previous deaths. He glanced back at his buddy. He raised his hands, and tossed his gun to the floor of the car. “What do you want?”

I thought for a moment, trying to think of something useful. “Ok, first of all, I would like any kind of personal items that you may have taken from me. If you don’t have anything, then that’s ok.”

“We don’t have-” the driver was cut off by the passenger side guy jabbing him in the ribs with an elbow. “On the floor next to you. Other side.”

I picked up a large black backpack. It jingled from the keychains dangling from every zipper. I knew this bag. I opened it up. There were a few things in here I knew about. A shirt from some event. That book. Then, I found the jackpot. A wallet and phone. Wait there were two phones. One was a flip phone that didn’t turn on, while the other was a fully charged touch screen. Ok that one.

I went through the wallet. I had around $100. According to a simple ID, I’d been attending a high school. There was a drivers license as well. I stifled a laugh as I read the fake information. There wasn’t anything else in it. I dropped the wallet back in the bag to focus on the phone.

The lock screen wallpaper was of me in the mirror at a public restroom. I was standing in a group. We were wearing wigs and tacky clothing, all brightly colored and pulling silly faces. I couldn’t figure out what the event was, but it didn’t matter if I couldn’t remember. Luckily, my thumbprint opened the phone. I had no clue what the passcode could be. I checked my messages. Apparently I was meant to be going to a party? I wasn’t really sure. I couldn’t find anything indicating how I got in my current situation. The guys looked nervous, trying to subtly peek at my phone. I think they thought I was trying to contact someone for help.

“OK.” I turned off the phone, and tossed it back into the bag. “How about this? You let me get out of the car, and you get on with your lives and forget that this ever happened?”

“Yeah, right. How do we know you won’t report us?” Driver’s Side asked.

“I’m not sure if you noticed, but my memory,” I pointed at my head. “It's pretty shit. I have no clue who you are, or where I am. I’ve got nothing against you. Or I wouldn’t unless you let me out.”

They glanced at each other, and soon I was standing on the side of the road, watching them speed away.

“Great.” I muttered to myself. I slung the bag off my shoulder and pulled out the phone. There was still service. With a check of the map app, I found that I was, in fact not in the middle of nowhere.

I was on the edge of somewhere.

Chapter 2

I cautiously approached the outskirts of the town. I pulled the shirt out of my bag, and wrapped it around my head so that it covered half my face. My feet were getting a bit muddy, but unfortunately there were no shoes in the bag. Avoiding things on the ground wasn’t too hard. As long as I stared at the ground as I walked.

I was grateful for the light of the street lamps as I furthered into the city. The air was cool and the sky was purple and red with sunset. The street was busy with cars, and on the sidewalks there were plenty of pedestrians. Few took notice of me, and those who did didn’t say anything. I was a walking disaster and no one wanted to get involved with that.

The area I found myself in was a commercial district it seemed, with lots of little shops and even some carts on the side of the road. There was a beautiful pastely bakery that caused me to stop and peer through the windows. All the little cakes were perfectly sculpted in shades of bright yellows and pinks and blues. It was so pretty. I looked down at my feet and decided against going in.

One of the food carts grabbed my attention. They were selling crêpes and lemonade. I stood there, staring up at the sign and at the person making the food. I knew what lemonade was but I wasn’t sure I’d ever had crêpes before. Had I?

As I stood there trying to remember, I heard a shout, “Hey, you buying anything?”

It was the man working the cart. I guess I was standing close. “Um yeah hang on.” I pulled down my backpack, and pulled out the wallet. “I guess I’ll get one of those and also a small lemonade.” I counted out the bills and put them on the counter. I had a lot of ones. Why did I have so many ones?

The man nodded, and took the money. After a minute, he was pushing the food towards me. I grabbed it, thanked him, and then went on my way down the street. I sat down on a bench to eat. My bag was partially open next to me, and as I was eating (it was really good it turns out) there was a buzzing.

I wiped my hand on my shorts, which probably didn’t help much, and grabbed the phone to answer. “Hello, who’s this?”

“Fred, cut the shit. You know who I am. Where the fuck are you?” The voice on the other end sounded like a teenager. Did I know this person? Wait. They knew me cause they were calling me and addressed me by name. I checked the caller ID. They were in my phone as ‘Lord Juiciness.’ What did that mean? I guess it was a joke? I did not remember the joke. “Hello?” Oh yeah I was asked a question.

“I’m not sure. Hang on.” I read out a nearby street name. “Does that mean anything to you?”

“Oh my God. What are you doing THERE? Did you really get so lost on the way to the party that you ended up in the next town over?” the Lord sounded angry.

“Maybe?” Ok this guy would not be able to help me. I doubted that he even knew that much about me. Or maybe he did. Maybe I’d lied to him about how I existed.

There was a heavy sigh on the other end followed by the words, “Just wait where you are and I will pick you up. Dumbass.”

I sat there, finishing up my meal, when I realized something. Something had been off for a while. There was something I had forgotten. Well I mean something more obvious. Magic. I didn’t think it had anything to do with my immortality, but it was important.

I focused on my functional eye, and suddenly everything turned black and white. I glanced around, then ended the magic, not being able to maintain it for very long. Trusite was tricky, and somehow the only thing I could remember. I kept getting flashes of the past. I used to study magic? I couldn’t tell. The problem was the fragments. They were barely anything, but I knew that they wouldn’t keep coming for too long. Eventually I would be left with just a handful, and nothing else.

But wait. What was that flash? That wasn’t a memory. I attempted the Trusite again. There was a purple aura, and it was closer than it had been before. Someone was looking for me. Did I know this person? Were they following me? Wait. While yesterday was a void, the past hour was something that I could remember clearly. There had been points where I thought that someone was following me, but there had been so many people.

Was I just paranoid? I looked around. No one appeared suspicious. I altered my vision again, giving me a bit of a headache. The purple figure was closer.

I zipped up my bag, and slipped it over my arms. I tossed my wrappers into the nearby trash can, along with the empty drink cup. Watching my step, I ducked into an alleyway. I headed towards the end of it, and turned around.

Sure enough there was a girl standing at the entrance. Somehow I hadn’t seen her before. She was wearing simple purple robes and a large purple hat. There was a belt covered with pouches around her waist. Her eyes shined with a purple tint, and a purple energy crackled between her fingers.

“Well then. Hello. Are you looking for me? What do you-"

“I’ll be asking the questions around here, ghost. State your purpose. Who summoned you?”

“I- I’m not a ghost?” What was going on?

“That’s exactly what a ghost would say.”

“What makes you think that I’m a ghost?” I asked politely.

“You look like one.”

“I think you need more than that.”

“Your aura is of death, and besides this is the perfect time of day for unwanted ghosts to show up.” Her stance was slowly getting more aggressive as she tried to appear intimidating. It didn’t work too well as I was taller than her, and there was no way she was actually going to try to fight me physically. When magic is your weapon it's unnecessary.

“Is there anything I can do to prove that I’m not a ghost?”

“Dodge this!” she yelled in response. The magic that had built up in her hands arced out into a bolt that shot towards me.

I threw up my hands in defense, reflexively creating a smooth translucent blue shield in the air. It was like a half bubble in front of me. Her magic was dispersed and absorbed into it, and I dropped my hands. “Ok does that prove it?”

She gaped at me, shocked, then dropped to her knees and bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Master. I thought that you were dead. They put me on patrol and I wanted to do my best. If I’d known that you’d been sent out here-”

“Whoa-whoa-whoa what did you call me?” Did she actually know me?

“You are more advanced than I, so to me you are a master of magic.” She insisted, still crouched.

“You can just call me Fred, ok? And I’m no master. I mean look at me.” Ok so she didn’t know me. I guess there was just a hierarchy that she was abiding by.

“I’m sorry.” She stood up.

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“Sorry.” She wouldn’t look me in the eye, seemingly embarrassed.

“No. I-” I sighed. “What’s your name?”

“Mary.”

“Well then, Mary. I appreciate your concerns but I’m not a ghost. I’m not a master. I’m just a guy trying to mind his own business and get on with life. Now if you will excuse me, I have a bench to sit on.” I tried to pass her but she blocked me.

“Wait!”

“What?” I stopped.

“Can you at least come with me?” she pleaded, her eyes big.

I thought about it. If I stayed here, I would just be going with some guy I’d never met. A person with expectations, who thought he knew me. I would just disappoint him or confuse him. It wouldn’t end well. This, going with this little witch, there was no telling what would happen. But, it could end up being good.

“Alright.” I crouched down so that we were seeing each other eye to eye. “Where is it that I must go?”

“I’ve got a portal. I’m gonna take you to see the other witches. It’ll be super cool.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small purple disc. I knew this thing. They were made so that anyone could access a fixed location from anywhere else. There was a spiral pattern on it. I guess if you had one with that pattern, you would be able to return to a certain location no matter what.

She tossed the disc to the wall of the alleyway, and a smallish simple doorway appeared. It was arched at the top, and seemed to cast a purple film on the wall. It was like liquid.

Mary grabbed my hand, and pulled me through.

Chapter 3

The portal led to a large cavern. There were those big spiky cave things from the top and bottom that I don’t know if they have names but they probably do. The ones going up from the floor were cut so that you could sit on them like stone stools. Most of the ones hanging from the ceiling were small or otherwise cut. The ceiling was extremely high though, and most of the rock spikes were fine. STALACTITES. That’s what they’re called ok.

The floor was soft and green. I realized that it was covered in moss. The rock walls were also covered in moss. There were little nooks and crannies all around the room where small flowers and plants grew. From the barer corners of the room, fat candles were crammed into the walls. The dancing candle flames lit up the mostly empty room as Mary led me towards the room’s only exit (other than the portals on the side we had entered).

“This place is like a waiting area,” Mary said, walking backwards. “To get here, you have to come through here, right?”

“And where is here, exactly?” I asked, looking around. The earth floor was cool and comfortable. The whole place was just nice and comforting to be.

“This is under the city. It's held together with magic so that it doesn’t collapse in on itself and you can’t get here any other way,” she explained.

“Do you live down here?” As we left the room and ventured into the hallway, the lights got dimmer. There were far fewer candles in the hallway, and they were spread apart. I could hear the squeaks of rodents skittering along the edges. There were pale flowers that almost seemed to glow in the dark. It was damp down here, but not in an uncomfortable humid way.

“Yeah. Most of the witches do. I sleep during the day ‘cause I got the night shifts. And I get night classes. I’d say around half the people here sleep at night and the other half during the day. We just alternate. Mainly preferences. I dunno. Less boring than if everyone had the same schedules, right?” She led me to a wooden door in the side of the hallway. There was a little plaque on the outside of it marking it as a classroom.

Inside, there was, of course, a classroom. All the students were wearing purple robes identical to Mary’s. They were sitting at desks, quietly reading books. At the teacher’s desk there was an adult wearing blue and green robes.

“Master Hail!” Mary ran over to her desk.

“Yes, Mary?” Hail looked up at her student, her eyes narrow and her voice tired. “What is it this time?”

“I found someone!” she gestured for me to walk over to her.

“Mary stop bringing down every poor homeless boy you find. They aren’t our responsibility, and besides it's ghosts you’re meant to be finding.” Hail was more focused on checking the papers in front of her than my approach.

“Well, see that’s the thing. I thought that he was dead, but it turned out that he wasn’t, and actually he’s a master of magic.” Mary moved her head closer to the teacher’s trying to get her attention.

The conversation became harder and harder to follow. I’d been getting flashes of memories since I woke up. Fragments really. And just then I was sucked into a longer one.

I was sitting in a flower garden. There was a girl next to me. What was her name? She was so beautiful. I ran my fingers across the ground, creating little yellow flowers for her. She kissed me. It was night. There were fireworks in the distance. A nearby band drowned out the fireworks. But she drowned out everything else.

“So you brought him here?” She looked over at me, and sighed. “Well then. ‘Master of magic.’ How about a demonstration?”

Her speech snapped me out of the vision. I didn’t know who that was, but whoever she was, she was long gone. At least I got something out of the memory.

I crouched down, shifting the weight of my backpack to make sure I didn’t lose my balance. I reached out with my palms face down on the mossy earth. I closed my eyes, and focused on the magic within me. I listened to the magic of dirt, and raised my hands. Below them, two sunflowers sprouted. They grew up until my hands stopped around chest level. The plants were unnaturally yellow and seemed to glow from the magic with which they were created.

“Could a ghost do that?” I asked, trying not to cry from my memory.

This got the attention of the teacher.

“How is it that someone so young knows a technique so advanced? To be able to conjure something from nothing? And something yellow no less.” She sat back and glanced between myself and Mary. “Take him to the council. They’ll know what to do with him.”

“Yes. I will. Thank you, Master.” Mary grabbed my hand and began to drag me out of the room.

“Mary!” Hail called after her.

“Yeah?” She turned around at an uncomfortably fast speed considering she was hanging onto me.

“Take him to get some decent clothing first, will you?” Hail ordered.

“OK!” Mary agreed. She continued leading me out.

Once we were in the hallway, I asked, “So where are we going now?”

“Master Stefi. She’s basically the underground tailors. She makes all the clothes. She can make ANYTHING.” Mary turned around to face me, walking backwards. As she spoke, she waved her arms around using grand, sweeping gestures. “All she has is the materials and she uses magic to put them together. It's better than any factory and it's just one person.”

“Sounds cool.” We continued going down the hallways, and I noticed more and more things around us as my eyes adjusted. The floor was lined with shiny, unusual rocks. There were lots of bits of things that looked almost like trash, but in a way they served a purpose to make the cavern hallways look more beautiful. Whenever I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, there was a little frog or a mouse in a watery crevice of the walls. “So what’s up with the colors?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, looking back at me.

“You’re all wearing purple, but the teacher was wearing blue. Is that just a uniform thing or….” I was just trying to make small talk, when the experience of eating a slice of cake flooded my mind. “I dunno it's just odd.” I was finishing a puzzle. “I mean it's nothing, forget about it.” I was trying to take my mind off the memories.

“I mean if you really are that stupid, I will explain it.” She stopped, and climbed on top of a mossy rock to try and make herself seem taller and more important. “The older you get, and the more magic you know, the color of your magic changes. When you first learn, your magic is white. Then it changes to purple, to blue, to green, then yellow, then orange, then red, then pink, then black. You have to be really old for your magic to get pink or back. Or you need to know some magical creatures or make a pact or something. I don’t know. They don’t really tell us about that cause I’m still purple. If you have more powerful magic, then you can imitate less powerful magic. But if you have less powerful magic, it's super duper hard to imitate more powerful magic.” Mary jumped down from the rock. “At least, that’s what Master Hail says.”

“Well then. Thank you for the lesson. Now do you actually know where we are going or is this your way of avoiding admitting that we are lost?” I smirked.

“NOPE.” Mary started running, forcing me to speed up to follow her. After a minute, we reached another, similarly domed door. This one had curtains blocking the entrance way. They were solid black with “tailors” embroidered across them in elegant rainbow letters. “Here we are, Master Fred.” She gestured dramatically towards the doorway, then knocked on the cloth. Somehow it sounded as though she was knocking on metal. There was a pause, then the cloth collapsed into a heap on the floor. Mary gestured for me to follow her in.

“Oh come in, come in, Mary. I was told you would be arriving.” An elderly voice came from within the shop. “Watch your step, I will be right with you.”

As I looked around the enormous cavern, the curtain rose up to hang above the door again, stiffening once it was back in its place. The whole room was filled with enormous rolls of cloth and buttons and ribbons and clasps. There were holes cut into the cave formations where rings filled with thread and swatches hung. It was an explosion of color. Most noticeably was the lighting. Unlike the previous locations, which had been lit by candles, this room had electricity. There were thin cables running around the ceiling from which soft white bulbs illuminated the fabrics.The ground was still mossy as the outside.

Sitting at a table examining heaps of buttons, was a tall, round witch with long grey hair piled on top of her head. Her robes were extravagant in all different shades of yellow and orange.

“So who is this that you’ve brought me?” The witch put down what she was doing, pushed back her chair, and stood up. She walked across the room, away from me.

“I’ve brought Master Fred here so that he can receive appropriate clothing before standing before the council.” Mary stated, after leading me further into the room.

“Well he certainly needs it.” Stefi glanced back at me. “Strip.”

“What?”

She was looking through a cabinet. “Strip. You aren’t keeping those clothes.”

I looked over at Mary, and she walked back to the entrance, facing away from me.

I shrugged, and slipped off my backpack, gently placing it on the floor next to me. The shorts and the tube top became a little purple heap at my feet, along with the shirt I’d had tied around my head, covering my right eye. Stefi, who was still rummaging through the cabinet, pointed a finger at me, and suddenly it felt as though I’d been drenched with invisible water. It forced itself down my body, propelled by an invisible wind as my entire body was cleaned. All the blood and dirt that had built up seeped into the earthy ground under me.

I know it's stupid, but I truly did feel cleaner. I was, but yeah, that’s the point. I started at my body. It felt weird. Existing, I mean. All over I was covered in scars. Mainly around my wrists and chest, but there were others. The worst part was that I could only remember the ones that resulted from deaths. There was a thin straight line across my chest below my nipples. I couldn’t figure out what would’ve caused that, but it certainly didn’t kill me.

“Drink this.” The old witch was standing in front of me now with a glass. There was a thick, clear liquid at the bottom. “Hold it in your mouth for at least 10 seconds, then spit it back out.”

"Um. Ok?” I complied. It tasted disgusting. When I spat it back out into the glass, it had turned dark red. Like blood.

“Interesting.” She was faster than you would expect from someone so old. She slammed the cup down on a table with a thunk and started grabbing cloth in different shades of reds. “Any preferences?”

“Umm. Don’t make it all one color?” I felt a bit self conscious about having a stranger make me clothes. I thought about what I’d been stuck in for most of the life I could remember. “And make it comfortable.”

“Got it.” She busied herself, grabbing things of all different colors and materials.

“I didn’t realize you had tattoos before.” Mary’s voice came from behind me.

“I thought you weren’t looking.” I glanced back at her.

“I didn’t say that.” I could hear her coming closer. “There’s a number on your butt.”

“What number?” I asked, curious. I couldn’t see my butt.

“It says 1/12/1832. What does that mean?” she asked.

“Oh it's just an inside joke. You wouldn’t get it.” The joke was that that was the first time I died. It wasn’t exactly something I wanted to have a conversation about either.

“What about the dragon?” she asked.

“What?”

“There’s a little blue dragon on your shoulder blade.” Mary really needed to stop with this.

“It a dragon. I’m not explaining my tattoos to you.” Not that I would really be able to.

“Are you a body-stealer?”

“Mary!” Stefi exclaimed. “Don’t accuse people of such things. Now here.” She tossed me a pile of folded clothing. I managed to catch it before it fell to the ground. “Put these on.”

Some of it slipped out of my hands as I dropped it on the ground. I couldn’t put it all on at once. The outfit was composed of an oversized red pair of sweatpants with a thick black ribbon as a drawstring. There was a purple t-shirt covered in a yellow pattern of bugs and mice. The underwear were white, and I realized that I definitely preferred wearing them as to not wearing them. There was an enormous green hoodie with orange sleeves. The socks were thick and bright yellow. Best of all was the hat. It was a beanie with purple, green, and blue stripes.

“You really are a master of your craft.” I spun around, getting the feel of the new clothes.

“Check the pocket.” Stefi grinned, clearly pleased with herself. She was clearly someone who had found her passion and specialty.

“This one?” I gestured towards the hoodie’s kangaroo pocket, and she nodded. I reached in, and pulled out a black eyepatch with a thick strap. I took off the beanie, put on the patch, then put the beanie back on top of it. “Thank you very much.”

“Your bag should be cleaner now,” Stefi gestured towards it on the ground.

I picked up the jingly sac, and slipped it over my shoulders. It was, indeed, cleaner.

“I don’t know why you are here, or what business you have with the council, but you would’ve never gotten far looking like that.” She glared at my old clothes on the ground with disgust.

“Fair enough.” I backed up towards the exit and turned around. “Come on Mary.”

The curtain dropped, revealing another girl. This one looked older than Mary. She was holding a torn shirt. She ran past us as we entered the hallway, and the curtain rose between us.

“So why am I going to meet the council again?” I asked Mary.

“Cause you aren’t allowed to be down here for long before getting approved by them,” Mary explained, looking around the hallway as though trying to remember where to go. She figured it out, and led me away from Stefi’s cavern. “It probably won’t be too long that we are there. They will probably just ask you some questions and then leave us alone.”

I nodded, not saying anything else.

We exited the hallway, to enter the council room. The arched doorway was massive, and seemed to have nothing blocking it. The room appeared dark and empty. When we walked through the doorway, that was revealed to have been an illusion.

The council room was a huge, circular room. Unlike everywhere else, it seemed less natural. The floor was lined with small flat stones and the stone walls of the cave were smoothed down. The area that you could access by walking into the room was small, and a huge counter wrapped around the room creating a small area for visitors. Behind the counter were chairs and endless bookshelves that wrapped the wall. There were exactly 13 chairs, one for each of the witches that were busy with stacks of papers spread out across the counters.

All the witches wore either orange or red clothing. Most of them were wearing robes, but a few were wearing more casual streetwear. Around 8 of them appeared female, while the rest looked male.

Mary immediately walked up to the eldest, an old woman with white hair and crimson robes. She was definitely older than Stefi. “High Priestess,” Mary greeted her with a small bow.

“Yes, Mary, what is it you want this time?” the ‘high priestess’ as she was apparently called looked over her low reading glasses down at Mary. She put down the papers she was holding.

“I’ve brought someone. His name is Fred, and I was wondering if he could stay here for a bit.” Mary gestured for me to walk closer, and I did.

She narrowed her eyes as she examined me. “How dare you stand before me dressed like that.”

“What?” I was confused. I thought the whole point of getting new clothing was so that I would be more presentable.

“There is no reason someone at your age should wear colors such as these. And in a style like that no less. It's completely ridiculous, and you’re insulting me. Leave.” She pushed up the glasses, and went back to her work, dismissing me.

“No.” I crouched down to the floor.

“I beg your pardon?” She put down the papers again and glared at me.

“Then beg.” I flopped down on the floor to sit. My legs were spread out in front of myself as I looked up at her. I noticed that the ceiling was covered in paintings of constellations. The harsh, bright, electrical lights that lit up the room acted as stars.

“He really can-” Mary was cut off.

“Shouldn’t you be patrolling above for ghosts or whatever it is you children are meant to be doing?” the woman snapped. “This boy has taken up enough of your time.”

Mary nodded, and ran out of the room.

As I sat on the floor, staring up at the priestess, some of the other council members turned to look at us.

“So you claim to be such a powerful creature that your power rivals mine? You are an ig-” She was grinning savagely as she began her rant, trying to belittle me.

“I’m immortal.” I stated, as plainly as I could. Felt like the thing to say.

Her smile dropped. “What?”

“I know more than you ever will.” They were bold words considering that I didn’t really know what was going on, and apparently I was too stupid to leave myself notes.

“Is that so?” Her eyes flashed blood-red, and suddenly there was a crushing weight on my throat. The last words I could hear before blacking out were, “Prove it then.”

Chapter 4

I opened my eyes. I was sprawled out on my back staring up at a high, stone ceiling covered in little yellow dots representing constellations. My back felt cold as I was lying on a stone floor. It felt nice as I lay there, though I knew I should stand up. As I stared at the ceiling, my vision flashed as the painted scene was replaced with real constellations, and the coolness of the stone was replaced with the coolness of grass.

The vision was shattered, and I was returned to the real world of me in a cave as the face of an old woman appeared above me. I slowly sat up, focusing on her instead of the ceiling. Her hair was white and her face wrinkly. Her kind, blue eyes stared at me though red frames- which matched her crimson robes. She reached out a leathery old hand to help me stand up, and I gingerly took it.

“Are you alright? You fell so suddenly.” She stared at me so intently as she helped me stand. “It gave us quite a fright.”

“Thanks.” I shook my hand to get out of her grip. She reluctantly let go of me as I took a step back and looked around the room. Nearly everyone here was old and wearing red. None as old as her, and none with the deep pink trim I noticed around some of her clothing. “I really appreciate it.”

My head was spinning. Deaths of all sorts were going through my mind. The memory of dying kept coming up again and again. I could remember joyous things, eating a particular treat, or going to a party, or hearing a joke.

“It was no problem.” The woman was speaking. “It's been so long since you’ve left. You’ll have to get a new room, I think.”

And that’s when I remembered where I was. I was in the witch caves. Didn’t matter which one. So many witches took up underground. Where they could create an enchanted fortress that non-magical users or creatures couldn’t find. Where they could do whatever they want. Where they trained kids. I had been to one of these. Or maybe it was several. I couldn’t remember.

“I really do hope you will stay here longer than last time.” The woman was still talking, walking around me with an examining look. Like she was trying to figure me out.

And that is when I remembered.

“When did you get so old?” I asked, causing her to stop. I could hear the silence as her shoes stopped clicking just behind me. I turned around to face her, staring at her face. Her eyes flickered as she tried to compose herself.

“Well, that is certainly no way to talk to a lady, but I will forgive it.” She reached out a hand, “Did you hit your head very hard.”

I stepped back out of her reach. “You just killed me.”

“Now I’m sure you’ve hit your head.” She tutted and touched her face. “Whatever am I going to do with you.” Her eyes glinted red ever so slightly, and I could feel my already disorganized thoughts grow even less tangible.

“Stop!” I bent over slightly holding my face in my hands, reflexively sending out a blue wave of magic that slid her back a few feet. She stayed standing, but her composure was gone and her attire more disheveled. I stood back up, dropping my hands into fists at my sides, and glaring at her. “I don’t know what you are trying to do, Low, and I don’t know what I am doing here, but I’m certainly not going to stay. Kill me once, shame on me. Kill me twice shame on you.”

“That’s not how it goes.” She reached up to retie her hair as she slowly walked towards me, her shoes going click click click.

“I don’t care.”

“Fair enough” She drew a line in the air with her free hand and a line of glowing red energy appeared. She twisted her finger, pushing the line so that it spun around creating a blurred circle. Her hair was back to normal, and she used the other hand to grab the line out of the air. It had now become a flaming sword.

As she lunged at me with it, I frantically thought about what little magic I knew, and fell through the floor and into a lake.

I plummeted through the water for a few seconds before desperately swimming back up to the surface. I broke through the water’s surface, and above there was a shimmering yellow circle of a portal. I reached up with one hand and gestured as if I was screwing closed a cap and the portal vanished.

Safe, I looked around. I was in a lake. Being more focused on escaping, I hadn’t really put too much thought into where I was trying to go. I sighed, and swam towards the shore. Luckily, I wasn’t too far out into the lake, and the water wasn’t that cold.

Once I stood on the rocky beach, I used magic to heat myself up and dry myself off. I sat down on a particularly large rock, and looked out over the gray water and the overcast sky. The rock was still warm from the heat it had gained earlier in the day, and the air felt warm and muggy.

As I sat there, I tried to think about what I could remember. The events were clearly so long ago, I doubted they could even be considered relevant. However, the more I thought about them, the more I was sucked into this old world.

I was sitting in a classroom wearing blue robes. Willow was there, and so much younger. A miniature portal appeared above my desk and a crumpled paper appeared through it. The unstable creation vanished, leaving me to read the paper that had been thrown across the room so discreetly.

I was standing in an underground arena, wearing green robes. Willow was cheering me on in the stands as a shakily remembered battle of magic played out.

I could remember walking down a street among normal humans, practicing magic in a way where only she could notice.

Throughout it all, she seemed to grow older, into a young woman while I stayed the same. The spells came so much easier to me, but she didn’t seem to mind. Or did she?

I was leaving the caves, I was going somewhere else to do something else. I didn’t want to be near her. She wanted something. I couldn’t figure out what it was. It was so long ago. Somehow I knew that it was too long ago. Yes she looked old but how was she still alive?

I shook myself out of my trance down memory lane, and punched down at the rock I sat on. I threw more magic than I intended, shattering my seat. I landed on the ground with a few scrapes, but nothing serious. What would even constitute something serious for me?

As I rolled up my pant legs, both to check for injury and due to the heat, I noticed an intricate circular rune around my left ankle. It was a tattoo drawn in all different colors. Was it magic? I tried sending out different combinations of powers of magic to try to make something happen.

Nothing happened. Then, I realized something. This was a fixed portal. It would take me to a single location, no matter where I was. I stood back up, and walked a bit further from the rocks of the beach, closer to the flatlands above. The heat of the dry grass barely registered through my socks. I closed my eyes, inhaled, then opened them, sending the colors of magic to my foot so that they matched up with the colors of the tattoo.

I tripped forward, and the world spun around me as I fell into a bathroom. I was still standing, but unsteady as I quickly tried to right myself up. I looked around. The room was small. The walls, floor, and ceiling were coated in small, pale blue tiles. There was a clawfoot bathtub, a toilet, and a sink, all in the same shade. On the floor, there were a few tiles below my feet that created the same pattern that had been on my foot. The shower curtain was drawn back and I could see cracked bars of soap sitting on a shelf built into the wall. Bottles on the counter by the sink had labels that were faded and yellow.

Above the sink was a mirror. I stared at myself, at my young face and my covered eye. This is who I was.

Not wanting to spend more time in this room, I opened the door. It led out of the dusty restroom, and into an equally dusty bedroom. The floor was hardwood, interrupted by some small rugs that appeared purely decorative. There was a large bed in the corner across from the one where this door opened into. There were four desks and tables of varying sizes, containing papers and electronics respectively.

As I looked at the technology, newer memories were drawn up. Nothing personal enough to tell me anything other than the eras which these devices were from and how to use them. I glanced over one of the tables full of papers, and saw that most of them were formal documents that had accumulated over the years.

The walls were covered in photographs of myself and other people who were long since forgotten. There were even some paintings, several of which were facing towards the wall with sticky notes pointing out which galleries they had been stolen from. I turned around one of them, and saw that it was a portrait of myself. Obviously this is not something I wanted on display, and turned it back around.

One of the walls was made up of bookshelves and a doorway blocked by a beaded curtain. In front of much of the shelves, there was a long orange couch set just apart from the shelf so that you could access the books. The couch was covered in old blankets and pillow, and the bed was nearly as messy.

I looked more closely at the bookshelves and could see that it was organized into three sections- actual books, various trinkets, and journals. There was tape across the wood with years scrawled across it, indicating that certain notebooks were from different eras of my life. I searched the shelf, then found the most recent book.

Not wanting to clear a space on the couch, I sat on the floor against the bathroom door. Before I opened the book, I placed it on the floor, stood up, and removed my hoodie and hat. I tossed the thick clothing onto the couch, along with the socks for good measure. They may have been useful for whatever I was doing in those caves, but here it was too warm for such items. My t-shirt looked weird with the bug and rodent patterns, but in a way I liked it.

I sat back down on the floor, and opened up the thick, tacky, multicolored children’s journal and began reading. The problem with the book was the inconsistency with the journal entries. This book covered the span of several years, but clearly there was something missing. The pages told of events and friendships, but the closer I got to the present day, the more was absent, until it was clear that there was nothing of the past year at the very least. The most recent note was that apparently I had some sorts of files that were important, But I had no clue where these were. Obviously they were not that important or I would have been more specific.

I grabbed some slightly older notebooks, and soon I had read the three most recent notebooks that I had written. The two older ones were much more consistent in what was written down and how often I updated it. I wasn’t sure why I had ended up slacking, but it may have been because I had stayed alive for such a long period of time that I lost interest in keeping track of what I could remember at the time. This idea was confirmed in a line where I talked about reading even older journals that took place during long times of not dying. I really needed to stop doing that.

While most of the journals contained frivolous things about day-to-day life, I did figure out my situation relatively well. This room I was in was part of my small house. This space was magically protected for me to keep the things that have accumulated for me over the years, and it had been left to me by a man who was long dead.

At some point I had been visiting a city built into a mountaintop. The huge network of caves and stairs was guarded by dragons and some of the powerful mages who lived on the upper levels. I had gotten to know one of the red dragons called Rayor. Red dragons were some of the largest and most powerful types of dragons out there. I suppose we hit it off, and he had moved to this forest that I lived in. He now guarded the small villager that lay near my house, and taught me powerful illusion magic on occasion.

While most of this seemed very peaceful, the problem lay with the protections. Why were they necessary? Apparently the existence of someone so resistant to dying was unusual, even among human witches and even other creatures of magic. Few people knew about this ability I had, and of those most wanted to take it for themselves.

This brought us back to Willow. Our relationship, whatever it may have been, took place before these three volumes, but there were mentions of it throughout. She had tried to manipulate me through my lack of memories into trying to take my power for herself. The first time she had killed me, an event I could unfortunately remember in detail, I had not remembered what led up to it. She used this to manipulate me, and try to gain herself immortality. I was lucky that the grab bag of memories I had ended up with today allowed me to escape her.

I stacked up the books, and stood up, neatly returning them all to the shelf. I vowed that later I would read through them all, then walked through the thick, jangly beaded curtain. It led to a kitchen, smaller than the bedroom but larger than the bathroom. It looked like a diner with a yellow-and-white checkered floor, a countertop, and even diner-style benches facing a large, square table. The room featured an old, round fridge and other appliances that I instinctively knew were already outdated. The fridge was empty of food, and everything again had a thin layer of dust, but the room kept up the theme that this place was very cozy.

There were still no windows, but there was a screen door in the far wall. I realized that all three rooms were right next to each other, and you could go through every door in a straight line. I opened up the door, ignoring the old calendar next to it and it's yellowed pages, and stepped out into the warm evening air. Wherever this was, it was further east than that lake as it was later in the day. Or maybe I just spent so long reading that I lost track of time. Either way, this location was nowhere near that lake.

The air was abuzz with the sounds of insects and birds, calling out into the night. I could see the faint glow of a handful of fireflies moving around in the distance. I looked back to see that the building I had emerged from was a small wooden shack with a metal roof. With the door closed, it looked too dark to see inside. There were no windows, and the exterior was too small considering how much space I had just seen.

Around the drab building was a garden filled with flowers, and even a large pond. It was clearly man-made as the odd shape curved around the house, and even further out towards the forest and around the flowerbeds. Inside, there were koi fish swimming around water plants, and I could even see some frogs.

Carrying a watering can, there was a small child facing away from me, emptying the water over the colorful plants.

“Hello?”

The child jumped, dropping the can. It stared up at me, then ran off in a panic, being careful not to trample any flowers. The kid ran to a narrow trail paved in flat, white and grey stones, and ran down it far away from me. This path led to the nearby village. I looked around at the huge clearing that interrupted my forest. This perfectly cultivated garden was somehow overgrown at the same time. It was as if someone almost wanted to make it look nice, but didn’t quite have enough time. There was a fountain, and some benches. The path to the village extended around the flowerbeds, creating a place to walk.

I made my way away from the house, and closer to the path which led into the forest. The trees were huge and old and beautiful. Among the evergreens were maples and oaks whose leaves shone red and orange through the green. The forest floor was overrun by moss and ferns and mushrooms.

It was truly a wonderful place, but at the moment I was concerned with the village. I must not have been there in a long time. Even so, I clearly had some kind of a reputation that led to people coming to maintain this yard of mine.

As I walked down the path through the slowly darkening forest, I thought about the dragon. Raymor. Where was he. After scanning the line of sky above the path that was visible through the treetops, I focused my gaze on the ground. I picked up a small pebble, and tossed it up a few times to get the feel of it. I then readied my arm back, and hurled the stone at the sky with a little bit of magic, and a long streak of purple trailed up into the sky before exploding into a random pattern of purple.

I stared up at it, glad that I had been able to remember how to do it, despite not remembering the context in which I learned. After the light had dissipated, I saw a large shadow block out what little light the sunset provided.

Above me now, there was a long, narrow creature. It was held aloft by two huge wings near its head, but I couldn’t figure out how the enormously long tail stayed nearly horizontal to the rest of its body, trailing through the air. I could see four long legs hanging near the front as it circled me.

Suddenly, it's wings flattened along the rest of its body, and it plummeted down towards the trail in front of me. There was a flash of light as the reddish-pink scales morphed into a smaller form. Despite the distance, the creature landed very delicately in front of me. It stood before me in a large, yet humanoid form. This was the dragon known as Raymor.

He stared at me, and grinned as he straightened himself up. “Hello, Francine.”

Chapter 5

As a Great Red Dragon, Raymor was highly skilled at illusion and shapeshifting magic, something that humans such as myself often struggled with. Before me now, Raymor stood on two legs, almost as if he was a humanoid creature. While he was confident in his altered appearance, he seemed a bit awkward standing on the narrow path. He had changed his appearance just to talk to me.

Raymor’s skin was coated in thick pink and red scales. The ones on his upper body reflected the early evening light. He was seven and a half feet tall in this form, exactly three feet taller than myself. His feet and hands, while anthropomorphized, were still reptilian and clawed. Two small, goat-like horns protruded from the top of his scaly head, a pale imitation of their true appearance. They were slicked backwards, and laid close to his skin. Raymor wore only a black suit, and a giddy, sharp-toothed smile.

“Hello, Raymor.” I briefly waved up at the half-remembered dragon. I felt uncomfortable talking to someone who knew far more about me than I knew about him. “I go by- My name is Fred now.”

“FRED?” He shouted, leaning forward, surprised. He glanced me over, humming to himself, before straightening back up. “Well, yes. I suppose that that is a fine name for your new era.”

“Thank-”

“However, I would like to know where you’ve been these past few years.” His arms were crossed and his foot was tapping. “No updates, and then suddenly here you are. You look so different. And just look at those clothes.” A finger waggle. “Did you go off and join a coven?”

“I don’t know.” If I had joined a coven, then it certainly wasn’t the place I woke up. I was killed by that Willow. Maybe I was trying to make up with her? But barely a day before that I’d been killed somewhere else. I must have ended up seeing her after being confused over my previous death. “I don’t think so.”

“You do not-” He cut himself off, and I saw that he was staring at my forehead. At the new scar from that man with the gun. His eyes flashed black and white. I knew then that he was looking at my aura- at my soul. “When did you die again?”

“This morning.” I replied, trying to be honest. “Today.”

“This morning.” Raymor repeated. His sad gaze was back on me. “It took your death for you to return.” He paused again, his gaze trailing away off into the distance, then snapping back to me. “Perhaps you did join one, but you’ve forgotten. Like you forgot me.”

“I-” Before I could respond, pointing out the logical gaps, or register his movement, I was no longer on the ground. He was cradling me in his arms protectively. Startled and unbalanced, I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck as a way to steady myself. It just felt like the right thing to do. His hard scales were somehow soft. This position felt familiar. “What are you doing?”

“I will be taking you into the village. This will help with the jogging of your memory.” Raymor turned around, and started with big, deliberate steps away from my house.

“Why are you carrying me?” I asked.

“You are short and slow at walking. This method is far more efficient.” He shifted his grip on me slightly as we walked to adjust. “Also, you can tell me what you have been up to. Or at least, what you remember.”

“Alright then.” I felt safe like this. Raymor really could be trusted. I told him about how my ex-friend had killed me, leaving me to wake up in that room, and about how I escaped and ended up here.

“Good job.” Raymor praised me. “You’re always in such a daze whenever you wake up. It makes sense that you could be taken in by the bizarre customs of witches. They tried to take advantage of you, but you figured them out.”

As we approached the town, I noticed the trees thinned and changed and the path grew wider. The forest turned into orchards wherein all sorts of trees somehow blossomed and bore fruit all together. Lemons, cherries, apples, oranges, and more out of view. They were organized by color and surrounded the town.

The path darkened and was made up of wide, grey flagstones, and the further we went, the more it resembled a road. I could see carts in the distance, drawn by horses and not horses. A few outdated cars could be found here and there, but overall they were few and far between. As Raymor continued to carry me through the small town, I noticed that while it could be found, there was limited amounts of modern technology.

Between the town and the orchards, there were great rolling flower fields. The decorative gardens were mixed with spots to sit and small ponds. I could see different peoples walking about or resting among the blossoms.

The population was made up of a wide variety of creatures. Humans, elves, demons, and even animals walked the streets. Fairies and sprites could be seen flying around. I saw a clothing shop for odd sizes run by a family of snake-like humanoids. There was a small postal service run by frogs right next to a much larger building run by centaurs advertising package deliveries. I even spotted an electronics shop.

I lost track of where we were with all the twists and turns throughout the city. We went past residential and business districts. Past homes and a school and official-looking buildings, until finally stopping at a café. Raymor placed me down gently, and we entered the establishment. Those working there were primarily humanoid with some animalistic ears and features.

We were guided to the back by a rabbit-like woman who greeted Raymor in a familiar way. I guess he came here often. Did I come here often?

I found myself sitting across from the dragon at a little round table topped with two steaming cups of tea. Raymor had done the ordering without me, but he’d known what I would like. I think we did come here often- he pulled out a small purple vial and placed it onto the table with more force than I think was intentional. It must have been hard for him to control his strength in such a small form. The tea was undisturbed, however, and all was well.

“Have your flashbacks stopped?” He asked of me, drawing his hand back?

“What?” I was startled.

“Since you last died. Has your memory settled?”

“I think so.” I eyed the vial, examining it from a distance.

“This will help you jog your memory.” Raymor explained, noticing my look. “It may be unreliable in what will be brought up, however the taste is reliable. You may want to mix it with your tea.”

I stared at it for a moment, then picked it up and popped the cork. I emptied the contents of the tiny glass container into the cup of tea. After another moment of hesitation, I consumed the contents of the tea in one slow gulp. The taste was slightly bitter, yet satisfying.

My memory certainly was jogged. I realized how recent my second to most recent death was. I had bits of pieces of what happened leading up to it, but I wasn’t quite sure. I knew there was a backpack that had gone missing at some point. There were so many little fragments, it was hard to tell what was useful.

“I know why I left.” I said aloud to Raymor. I had to think a bit to gather the thoughts. “I was getting a procedure.”

“A procedure?” Raymor interrupted, echoing my words.

“To make my chest flat.” I held my hands close to my upper body. “I wanted something more permanent than illusions or spells. That's all I can remember though from that.”

“The memory is a fickle thing. Hard to grasp. Easy to destroy.” Taking a small sip of his own tea and then remembering the first part of what I said, Raymor asked me, “Are you happy?”

I nodded. “Yes, I think I am.”

Raymor nodded. “Very good.”

“Can you tell me the story of how we met?” I requested. I knew bits and pieces from the journals and my own mind, but I wanted to hear it from him.

“How we met?” Ramor echoed, raising what could be considered an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I clarified.

“Well that was quite a while ago. Let us see now.” He folded his arms and became lost in thought. “Let me paint you the scene. A witches’ town. Impossibly carved into the caves of a mountain top. The caves led to wooden and stone platforms built into the sides of the mountain. These overhangs were fenced in, and held portals where people could teleport in. The cave entrances had guards to monitor who went into the caves.

The caves, which had mouths all over the mountaintop, were linked by tunnels, winding all throughout the inside of the mountain. Magical runes were used to prevent collapse. The stone walls of the tunnels were painted bright abstract colors, half of which were luminescent, lighting up the paths.

Every so often you could see closed-off fire places, fitted with vents weaving through the ceilings of the tunnels to lead the smoke away. The combined heat of the bodies within and the fires half-melted the snow outside.

The tunnels sloped. If you dropped a marble, it would go farther than you would expect. The slight inclines allowed for stacking of the tunnels, and staggered outside entrances. You could buy virtually anything within the semi-organized districts of the tunnels. At the topmost, restricted ones, you could find magical scholars studying mystical arts. The rulers of this trading town could also be found up there.

This city, in addition to the various humanoids employed by the witches was guarded by three Great Dragons, including myself. We would fly outside, to be ominous warnings against any fools who might dare attack this town, already protected by the witches. On occasion, I would walk through the markets looking how I do now, to look for pickpockets or anyone trying to make trouble. Well that was my excuse. The witches liked me doing things like that to be nice and intimidating for customers. I liked walking around to see all the different people and foreign things. Occasionally I would swap a coin for something shiny.

One day, you arrived via teleport, I was sitting on the mountain, taking a rest and watching one of the cave mouths. You appeared on the platform, and walked up to the guard. I was barely paying attention, expecting the usual, and instead I was surprised. You presented a hand filled with nothing, and yet you were let in. There were barriers present barring illusion magic, and yet you were able to create it. You were let in without proper papers, and I wanted to know how.

I climbed down the side of the mountain, dropping onto the platform in my humanoid form. At the time, I wore a red guard uniform, as those witches always cared about. I hated the system. Younger witches would always ask me to teach them. It was tempting to simply light them on fire. Just because I knew more, it didn’t mean I was interested in sharing.

I followed you into the cave and through the tunnels. I used the excuse for myself that I was investigating a criminal, but I was fascinated. Your aura was like nothing I’d ever seen. It was bigger than that of a typical witch, and it was like that of a ghost.

But you couldn’t be a ghost. No trouble was needed to see you, and you walked on solid ground. Your aura had too much color to be one, despite the initial appearance.

You wore purple clothes, and carried a large backpack with jingly keychains. Some were rusted over, while others were shiny and new. I wondered how old you were. Clearly magical, were you even a human?

After some time following you, you stopped next to someone sitting on a rug, claiming to be able to read your past lives. I watched as you sat down next to the low table, and talked to the elf man, confusing him. You concluded that he wasn’t competent at his craft, and left him as he sat there dumbfounded.

You moved on, and I had the delayed realization that while you were dressed in the lower color of purple, you were no magical novice. I wanted to know you more, try and figure out what was going on with you. You were certainly more interesting already than most humanoids that passed through.

`Am I being suspicious, officer?` You were staring right at me. I realized that we’d ended up in an emptier corner of the tunnels. There were few travelers walking by. It might as well just have been the two of us.

`What?` I was startled by your acknowledgement of me.

`Well I’m just trying to figure out why you’ve been following me.` Your arms were crossed, and you were trying your best to look tough while staring up at me.

`You entered without proper documentation.` I decided to go with my initial impression. `I thought you might be up to something.`

`Might I?` You then vanished into thin air.

I rushed to where you were standing, and tried to find the residue of magic that might allow me to follow you, but I could feel my orders keeping me there. Instead, I reluctantly left the cave to resume my duties.”

Raymor took a sip of his tea, pausing his story.

“What next?” I was impatient.

“This time, I was patrolling the tunnels.” Raymor put down his cup. “I would have missed you if I weren’t scanning for guilty souls. I saw that you were buying building charms and seals. Your big, jingly bag was overflowing with time and protective items.

I was unable to talk to you, as you left too soon, but I exchanged a few words with some of the shopkeepers you’d spoken to. The only thing they saw out of the ordinary was the volume of items requested, and how their registers were mysteriously short.

The third time you appeared, you were sitting on the side of the mountain. I was drawn to your aura of death and your odd seating choice. You were writing in a journal, the pages of which were mysteriously still despite the fierce wind which surrounded the mountain.

I flew towards you, carefully maneuvering to land on the side of the mountain next to you. Your arms were as long as my claws as I gripped the side of the soft rock. My tail wrapped around the side so I could keep my balance.

`You know, it would be incredibly dangerous if you fell from here,` was my terrible attempt at starting a conversation.

`I don’t plan on falling.` You were not startled, as you had very clearly seen me approach.

Internally, I smiled at your comment. I knew then and there that I wanted to protect you, this silly, confident humanoid.

`You don’t like it here, do you?` You looked away from me as you said that, and continued writing in your book.

I was startled by your comment, and hesitated, not knowing how to respond to that.

`I mean.` You looked off into the distance, then back at me with a slightly disgusted expression. `Curses are rarely fun.` You looked back down again. `Now hexes-`

`I’m surprised that you noticed.` I interrupted you.

`You’re not surprised.` You really are bold.

`No, I am not surprised.`

`So who is keeping you here?` You asked me.

`There’s a witch in this city who wants me guarding it. I’ve been bound to this mountain to guard and protect it.` I explained. I’d not told anyone that before. I suppose it wasn’t really much of a secret anyways.

`Protect it from who?` You were good at asking questions.

`Attackers, I suppose.` Now I was thinking. I’d been here for years and I couldn’t remember a time when the city faced anything worse than pickpockets.

`That makes sense.` I wondered what it was you were writing in that journal.

`Why?` Internally I was cringing at my comment.

`Because witches suck. Who wouldn’t want to attack them? Half of them are backstabbers, and the other half are mental.` You pulled your backpack off your back and in front of you to put away your pen and journal. `I can’t walk through one of their towns without wearing purple, otherwise I get swamped by novices begging me to teach them.`

`Are you a witch?` I asked. You looked almost like one.

`Probably.` That was the end of your response.

`Probably…?` I prompted.

You changed the subject. `What would you say if I could remove your curse? Would you come with me? I’m not one to set curses, so it would be up to you.`

`And where would you be going?` At this point the answer wouldn’t have mattered. I was intrigued.

`I’m making my own little town.` You stood up. Again, I was curious as to what spell was keeping the air around you still on this mountain top. Your voice was so clear. `It would be nice to have a great dragon such as yourself protecting it.`

`A town?`

`Yeah. That’s why I’ve been coming here.` You gestured towards your bag. `For supplies.`

`And you have the ability to remove my commands? `I wasn’t too comfortable outright calling it a curse, but this? A fresh start and someone this interesting? It was too good to be true.

`Of course.` You looked around, then picked up a pebble. You flicked it towards my face. It moved faster than my eyes could follow. It glowed bright orange as it approached. The rock fizzled out of existence once it hit my skin, and I could barely feel any impact. I could, however, feel the invisible, magical chains binding me to the mountain vanish.

I was speechless.

`You can go now, if you want.` You didn’t seem to think that I wanted to stay with you, though your next words were, `Or you can come with me if you want.`

Aimlessly wander off into the horizon, or go with the creature with the ghostly soul? `Where to?`

`Well. It’ll be a bit cramped with you like that. Can you shape-shift into a smaller size again?`

Of course you recognized me from before. I shrank back into my humanoid form, like this,” Raymor stood up and showed off his body with a bow before sitting back down and continuing. “I grabbed your outstretched hand, and you created a portal, pulling me through it.

We landed in a small room. Inside, there was a bed, a desk, and some minor utilities. You let go of my hand, and opened the door.

`Come on.` You beckoned me forward, and we ended up outside. I stood up a bit taller, though clearly not my full size. We were on the outskirts of a small town of dirt roads and ramshackle houses. A few odd people milling about here and there. `What do you think?`

`It's a start.` That was the truth.

`I want this to become a town of outcasts, where anyone who wasn’t welcome elsewhere is welcome here.`”

Raymor gestured around us. “Clearly this would eventually become where we are now.”

“And what happened next?” I asked.

“Well. Then we became very good friends and now rule over this town. Mostly. I think there’s some kind of government here, but I don’t fully understand it.” Raymor was beginning to ramble.

“Ah.” The story had brought back bits and pieces. Little images. Jogging my memory. Bringing it back to my mind. “Do you know anything about Willow?”

“Will- oh you mean that witch?” He thought for a moment. “Well as far as I know, she isn’t aware of this place. Though, she does try to track you when you go out. She’s been trying to steal your immortality.”

“Is that even possible?” I went to grab my tea, but I’d drunk it all during his story. I wished I had more, and the cup became suspiciously full again. I took a sip. Ow. It was hot.

“She seems to think that it is.” His response was non-committal, but I didn’t think he knew the answer.

“Well, at least we’re safe here, and back together.” I wasn’t sure what to say. “That’s fun.”

“Would you care to walk around town together?” Raymor suggested.

I didn’t respond, thinking about it. When we’d arrived in town, we’d immediately come here. “Is this meeting place of ours?”

He sighed a sigh of relief. “It is. I knew that bringing you here would help with your memory.”

He was almost right. “I think I’d like to see the town.” I shifted in my seat so that my legs were facing the side, away from the table. I lifted my arms up to him.

Raymor excitedly clambered out of his own chair, and grabbed my outstretched arms. He gently pulled me up, and placed me on his shoulders so as to give me a good vantage point to observe the town. We left the café, noticeably without paying.

The town was split up by thick, curved roads splitting the different buildings into partial districts. There was the marketplace, residential areas, schools - everything you could think of was somewhere.

There was magic overlain in streets which prevented crimes from being committed. Stray cats ran under street lamps. Carts were pulled down sleepy streets. The cozy little town was truly beautiful.

After some time, Raymor offered to take me flying. I agreed. He walked us towards the outskirts of town before taking off. I found myself sitting on his head gripping his horns as his body elongated and grew with take off. I protected myself from the winds of his enormous wings using magic.

From the sky I saw that the tops of nearly every building was covered with gardens. The thick streets formed a pattern, and combined with the ring of flowers and trees around the town it created the image of ouroboros. A snake eating its own tail.

When I’d been planning the layout all those years ago, I’d deliberately created this symbol of infinity within the very planning of the town.

As we flew, we came further and further away from my town. I noticed that some of the roads had led away from it and towards other towns and villages. They also were formatted in the shapes of different symbols and creatures. One looked like a cat. One looked like a puzzle piece. One looked like a wolf.

Many of these settlements had various flying creatures above them. None of them cast a shadow nearly as great as Raymor’s, however. I wondered where this was all located, and who inhabited the neighboring locations.

As we flew, suddenly we noticed - well I say suddenly. It must have been happening for a while now. But us noticing it seemed sudden. There was a town up in flames.

Chapter 6

I command Raymor to fly closer, not that he needs much prompting. We glide over the burning town, and a realization dawns on me.

“Help with the evacuation. I’m going to do something.” I don’t wait for a reply before leaping off of Raymor to dive into the center of the town.

I land softly, aided by my own magic manipulating the air. Surrounding my landing circle, is yellow-orange flames. I walk over to the flames, examining them. I’m correct. They aren’t real. Well, not real in the sense that they are made of magic - not fire.

I bend down, and reach out to pick up two fistfuls of fire, dragging it as I stand up. The flames are collectively pulled to my hands as the magic is sucked away into my hands. Spells, especially simple ones like this, are all connected.

I continue pulling, and more and more of the flames are dragged across the burnt town and into my hands. I begin to feel nauseous as I absorb the magic. Though I am a wizard of fire and heat, I am not sure how much more of this I can take.

Suddenly, it’s over. I reach the end of the spell. All the magic is contained within me.

I drop to the ground, and lay on my back for a moment, panting. I feel warm. My eyes are blyurry. I stumble back to my feet. I walk away, and wander the empty blackened town.

I hope no one was hurt in the magical fire, but know that its unlikely no one escaped unscathed.

I’m too tired to attempt a proper investigation, and just focus on trying to find someone.

Eventually, a fairy appears before me. She is tiny, pink, and floating. “Are you ok?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I lie, feeling like I’m about to throw up. “Do you know how the fire started?”

The fairy shook her head. I’ve been gathering everyone to see who is alright. Go down 7th Streed to the outskirts and you’ll find everyone.” Deciding that was all, the fairy flew past me, looking for other survivors.

I follow her directions and head out to the edge of town. There are a decent number of people here, considering how small a town it is. It’s about a quarter the size of my town.

I get a lot of odd looks, a lto of them magically charged, examining me, probably because I’m not local. I see Raymor in the distance, and head towards him.

Before I get there, I’m stopped by a blue witch in uniform.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” He remarks. “State your purpose.”

I vomit on his shoes, and run around him towards Raymor. I wipe my mouth, and wave to him. He is in his humanoid form, but still towers above everyone as he stands.

“Fred!” He shouts, “You wouldn’t believe how many people I can hold at once.”

“I don’t think that that would be too unveboliveable.” I say, reaching up.

Raymor lifts me up, and sets me upon his hsoulders. The witch I puked on is angrily strutting towards me.

“How dare you!” He shouts. “Diguising yourself as a glowing ghost only to commit such an atrocity.”

“Sir.” Raymor introkscts, “I’m sure we can reach an agreement here.”

“What sort of agreement?” the witch demanded, “That you compensate for my shoes?”

I burp “lady, I just saved your whole town from a fire. I think that you should at least be grateful for that.”

She looked around, a realization dawning. “The fire is gone? Where did it go?”

Jazz hands for me.

“I apologize for your shoes.” Raymor said on my behalf.