Fyre Fly: Chapter 21 - Second Chance

I stand there for a moment, too shocked to respond. Zyneth appears equally astonished. But a quick Check confirms what Fyre already said: there’s a human in this giant creature. 

A child.

My soul squeezes in my chest. 

“HELLO?” Ollie asks. “CAN YOU HEAR ME? DIZZI HELPED MAKE MY TRANSLATOR LOUDER. OH! OR ARE YOU ONE OF THE SIGN LANGUAGE PEOPLE? YOU DON’T LOOK LIKE IT, MOST OF THEM ARE SNAKES.”

“Ollie,” Fyre gently admonishes. “Give him a moment to respond, first.” 

“I am one of the ‘sign language people,’” I sign, gathering my thoughts. I switch to my translator. “But not a snake.”

Ollie makes a rumbling sound, and a wiggle passes through his body, tail lashing from side to side. “YOU HAVE A SPEECH STONE TOO! JUST LIKE ME! LOOK HOW COOL MINE IS.” He cranes his head up so I can see the necklace he’s wearing, cinched snug against his neck like a choker. The woven cords are artistically braided, displaying a large blue stone at its center. 

“That’s… very cool,” I say. Shit, I don’t know how to talk to kids. Wait—don’t swear. I have to be careful not to swear. 

But Ollie seems pleased by my response. “ISN’T IT? IT’S BEEN FUN TALKING TO ALL SORTS OF PEOPLE.”

“Did you know sign language from the start?” Fyre asks me, watching curiously. “I’ve attempted to pick up a few phrases over the last couple months, but I’m afraid I don’t have much time to dedicate to it.” 

“From the start?” I repeat. “No, I had to learn it.” Now that I’m thinking about it, Fyre is speaking fluent Dunmorish. She has an accent compared to other people I’ve met in Dunmora, but so does Mirzayael. There’s no way she could have gotten this good in only six months—I’m not even that fluent with signs after ten. “You didn’t learn Dunmorish, did you?”

Fyre shakes her head. “It came with the body, it seems. I imagine your circumstances are similar to Ollie’s? I’m able to read and write in Dunmorish, but Ollie can’t. I’ve come to suspect that these bodies were patterned off the remains of creatures near where we reincarnated. It appears some of our capabilities and skills might have been patterned off them, too.” She looks at me thoughtfully. “Though, you break the pattern I’ve observed thus far. I may have to reformulate my theory.” 

“Perhaps,” I say. Her theory is probably right—she just doesn’t know I ended up here by a different mechanism. But why would she? “I’d like to hear more about it. But… there’s something I’d like to discuss with you as well. Privately, if possible.” 

I don’t know what, if anything, I should say in front of the kid. He and Fyre seem to be close; maybe she’ll know what’s best for him. 

But also, I’d love to have this conversation without Mirzayael present, as I suspect she won’t take the news as well as Fyre. Thank god the first Traveler I’ve been able to talk to seems so mild mannered. I guess it will be good practice when I have to talk to less friendly individuals. 

Fyre appears to recognize something in my tone, as her smile fades. “Of course. We can find something more secluded. Ollie, do you mind? We can all chat again a bit later—maybe over lunch.” 

“OKAY,” Ollie says. He’d already lost interest in me, anyway, and is sniffing at Zyneth, who’s doing an admirable job of not flinching at the enormous fangs just inches from his face. In fact, Zyneth is smiling. When Ollie puffs out a breath of air, Zyneth chuckles, raising a hand to pat Ollie’s nose. Is he good with kids, or just impervious to danger? Could go either way, honestly. 

“I’M GOING TO GO PLAY WITH MERITIS, THEN. NICE TO MEET YOU, KANIN! AND NICE DEMON PERSON. BYE, FYRE!” Ollie turns away and jumps off the balcony, his wings catching the air and buoying him skyward. 

Zyneth blinks. “Demon person?” 

Meanwhile, Mirzayael has turned to Fyre. “I don’t think this is wise.”

Fyre squeezes her arm. “It’ll be fine. You know I can handle myself.” She stops, as if she were about to say something else, but instead she and Mirzayael just stare at each other in silence for a strangely long moment. 

Mirzayael finally sighs. “Alright. I’ll check in on you later if I haven’t heard anything.” 

“You sure about this?” Zyneth also says to me. “After earlier…”

I turn my back to Fyre and Mirzayael so I can sign privately with Zyneth. I don’t know if Mirzayael can sign, but Fyre would probably be able to interpret what I’m saying through the System. 

“I’m not worried about her,” I sign. “And Ink can handle things if we run into her remnant again.”

“You sure?” he asks. 

It’s a fair concern, given how badly the first encounter nearly ended. But now that Ink knows what to expect, and that it could combat it by targeting Fyre, I don’t think we’ll be caught off guard the same way again. 

“Promise,” I say. Mentally, I grab his obsidian knife, still in his hilt, and wiggle it just enough for him to feel. “I’ll let you know if I’m in trouble.” 

“Alright. Be careful anyway.” Zyneth puts a hand on my shoulder and leans in, and I tap my head against his forehead.

“I will.” I pull away to find both Mirzayael and Fyre watching us with unreadable looks. I squirm in discomfort at them witnessing our intimate moment, and hurriedly gesture to Fyre. “Lead the way.” 

Zyneth, Mirzayael, and even Blair stay behind—though she can probably overhear us no matter how far we travel. I hope Zyneth and Mirzayael don’t kill each other in our absence. I’m getting the feeling that both of them are itching for a rematch to settle their earlier stalemate.

“You two seem close,” Fyre remarks as we walk along the balcony. The surrounding sights are stunning and hard to ignore while I speak with Fyre—but her comment was a pretty good way to hook my attention.

“Yeah,” I say, trying to not let my discomfort show. It’s not that I want to keep my relationship with Zyneth a secret—I’ve just never had a relationship like this before. I’ve never had someone I think about even when they’re not there, someone who makes me want to be a better version of myself. “We’re, ah, dating. What about you and Mirzayael?” It’s not hard to see how protective she was of Fyre.

“The same.” Fyre’s face lights up with affection. “It’s been about three months now.”

“Almost six for us,” I admit. 

Fyre tips her head, considering this. “You must not have known each other for very long before you got together. No judgment intended,” she quickly adds. 

Shit. She’s pretty perceptive. “None taken. Actually, that’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.” 

She raises an amused eyebrow. “Our relationships?” 

I laugh. “No. Though I am glad for you.” 

Fyre smiles wryly. “I’m surprised. Your partner didn’t seem to be her biggest fan.” 

“Probably not,” I admit, amused. The tightness in my soul seems to faintly lessen. Fyre is so easy to talk to. I don’t know if it’s intentional or just her nature, but speaking with her is already making me feel more relaxed—less worried about the confession to come. “I suspect the wariness goes both ways.” 

“I’m certain it goes both ways,” Fyre agrees, smiling to herself. 

We continue on in silence for a while longer. I can tell Fyre is happy to wait for me as I collect my thoughts. We’ve reached a marble staircase that descends to a courtyard. Like the palace, it is also stone and devoid of plants, but it’s still majestic in its own right. There’s a statue of a harpy at its center. 

Unthinkingly, I’ve summoned a few marbles of glass to my hand, which I float between and around my fingers. I can still see in every direction at once, so I can see Fyre watching me, but it helps to have something else to focus on. 

“I don’t have a body because I didn’t come here the same way the rest of you did.” There. I’ve said it. No going back now. “I didn’t arrive on the same day, either. I died, fell Between, and was brought to Lusio about three months before the rest of you.” I pause. “Do you know what The Between is?”

Fyre nods. “I’ve read about it some, and Echo has filled me in on the rest.”

I pause. “Echo?”

“Yes.” Fyre’s brows wrinkle slightly. “The other Travelers I’ve spoken to also have an Echo. Do you not?”

“No,” I say. “I mean, yes, I do, I’m just surprised the rest of you do. I don’t think…” I stop myself again. I don’t see Blair anywhere within line of sight, but she could still be listening. I switch to sign language. “I don’t think the gods know about them.” 

Fyre seems to understand my concern, as she nods. “I believe you’re correct.” Then she surprises me by reaching out to take my hand.

I don’t know how to react. “Um…”

She frowns. “That’s odd. My spell isn’t working on you.”

Okay, well it’s a little alarming that she just tried to cast a spell on me. But she wouldn’t have admitted it if she had ill intent… right?

“It’s a privacy spell,” she adds, as if reading my thoughts. “I need to be in physical contact.” 

“Ah.” I relax a little. “I know why it didn’t work then.” I unbutton the top of my coat and pull it open so she can see my core. “This is my real body. The rest is just Attuned glass.”

“Amazing,” she says, voice and expression full of awe. She lifts a hand, then pauses. “Is this alright?”

I know I should be more cautious—I’ve just met this person, and I’m literally about to put my life in her hands. I’m not sure if it’s our remnants, or the fact that she’s one of the Lost Souls and I feel I owe her, but I already feel connected to her, someway or another. 

Ink, decisively, does not. It thinks this is a terrible idea.

You don’t get a vote, I think, making up my mind. It might be able to play tug-o-war with our void, but it doesn’t have any control over my glass. I Sculpt the glass of my chest open so Fyre can access my core.

“Go ahead,” I say. Ink pouts.

Gently, she reaches forward and touches my core. 

[You have been subjected to a Psionic Touch spell,] Echo says. 

And then I can feel her in my mind. It’s not a foreign experience—it’s much like how it felt to speak with Noli in the Between. Not to mention, Ink.

The remnant is immediately aware of the foreign intrusion. It rises to the forefront of my mind, intensely and warily focused on Fyre’s presence. Thankfully, it doesn’t attempt to attack her.

“Oh!” Fyre emanates surprise, which quickly shifts to caution. “Is that your remnant?”

“Yes. It’s named Ink. Ink, don’t be a douche.” 

Ink simmers with affront, and Fyre laughs. 

“Nice to meet you, Ink. I promise I’ve no ill intent.” 

Her mind feels wide open, as if she’s intentionally making herself vulnerable to us. Like the mental equivalent of holding up your hands to show you don’t have any weapons. Ink sees this as an excellent opportunity to subdue her, but shies away when I react to this thought with a spike of anger. 

See, this is what I was talking about when I said don’t be a douche.

Ink wasn’t actually going to subdue her, it clarifies. It was just observing the opportunity. Besides, in a distant way, it recognizes her. Not her, individually, but it remembers when the predator had held all the human souls in its void. It had felt their confusion and fear. This experience feels similar… but in this moment, all it feels from her is kindness.

“You know something about Echo,” Fyre says, getting right to the point. “I also believe the gods are not aware of her existence, to some extent. Which is strange, as I do believe they have access to the System no different from us.” 

“Uh, yeah,” I say. “I think that’s one thing I can explain. But I’ll need to back up a bit first.” Hoo, boy. Where to start?

“Take your time,” Fyre says. I’m sure she can sense my anxiety. “There’s no rush.”

I’m not really the take-your-time type of guy. Best to rip the bandaid off, I think.

“So, I died.” I guess that’s as good a place to start as any. “And like the rest of you, I ended up Between. But that’s where things went sideways…”

It takes some time to summarize everything I went through. From Trenevalt and Noli, to the predator, to wanting to get my body back. Emrox is the hardest part to get through. There’s still so much guilt and regret tied up in those memories. 

“The last I saw, the souls dispersed into the world,” I say. “Echo told me that since they had been brought here through magic that was designed to find and retrieve my body, the souls here were likewise finding other suitable vessels to adhere to. I thought they’d all ended up in objects like me.” The marbles I’ve been orbiting around my fingers have been spinning faster the longer I talked—I still them, grabbing them from the air and squeezing my hand into a fist. “I still don’t really understand how you all got bodies.” 

“Amazing,” Fyre says. She’s been silent this whole time, patiently listening to everything I had to say, feeling everything I had to feel. “This explains much of what I had wondered about. I think I know the answer to the body enigma, actually.”

“Really?” I ask, perking up. I wasn’t expecting to learn the answer to this peculiarity so soon.

“I could be wrong, but I’ve confirmed the theory with another mage, and she seemed to think I was onto something,” Fyre says. “You see, on this world, magic can be converted directly into matter. It takes a lot of mana, but it can be done. Similar to how babies are made.”

My mind skips tracks. “Similar to how what?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Fyre laughs. “I admit I was also a bit surprised when I found out. But yes: In addition to the method we’re familiar with on Earth, here partners can pool their mana in order to form a new soul. Once the soul is formed, additional mana is converted into matter to form the body around the soul. Quite useful for partners of different species!”

My mind spins as I try to process all of this. 

“In our case, we already had souls,” Fyre continues. “So all that was needed was the mana-to-matter half of the equation. I had previously wondered where such an enormous quantity of magic might have come from in order to facilitate the growth of over a hundred bodies—but your story here was the last piece of the puzzle! Of course it must have come directly from a magic source. Not to mention, I understand that null magic has to do with space and matter and binding. All ingredients for creating a new body and binding a soul to it. It makes perfect sense!”

I’m still not quite over the whole “baby making” explanation. “I don’t understand. Are you saying you guys were birthed into this world?”

Fyre pauses thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s one way to think about it, yes. Thanks to you and Ink, here, who provided the mana to make it possible.”

What? No. No no no, we are absolutely not framing it that way. 

Ink doesn’t understand. What am I upset over? What is this creature-making process that Fyre is referring to?

Doesn’t matter, I think with mounting mortification. 

Ink thinks it does matter, given how strongly I am reacting. 

We’re not talking about this! Ever. 

Fyre seems happily oblivious to the implication—or at least she’s politely giving that impression. 

“How many Inventory spaces do you have?” I ask, bulldozing my way to a different subject. 

“The Dungeon Core—that’s my remnant—has thousands,” Fyre says. “But I personally only have one. The same is true for Sandro and Ollie. Ah, I see where you’re going with this.” 

My embarrassment steadily leeches away as I have something safer to think about. “The predator shredded my Inventory, leaving one slot, just before all the souls fell Between. And I named the System voice Echo, so I had someone I could address when talking to it. You all also have an Echo and one Inventory slot. It’s like the interface you guys ended up with is a copy of mine.”

“A template,” Fyre agrees. “That would make sense, considering it was also your spell that resulted in us obtaining new bodies. The System must have used yours as the base. This is also how I think we individually got the bodies we did.” 

“What do you mean?” I ask. 

“I don’t believe our bodies were random,” Fyre says. “Or rather, I don’t believe these bodies were randomly created. The body I currently have bears a striking resemblance to one of the Fyrethian’s ancient leaders—and I first woke up in her tomb.” 

Well that’s fucking horrifying. “So you think, with Ollie…?”

I can feel her confirmation. “We found him underground in a sealed cave. I wouldn’t be surprised if there had been a dragon skeleton there—possibly fossilized—before Ollie’s soul ended up in the vicinity.” 

Something about all this stokes a memory of a remark Blair had made. “After Blair learned how I got here, she said something about this explaining why so many Travelers ended up with or near a remnant.”

“Because we all passed through yours,” Fyre agrees. “I don’t know if that means we… took some piece of it with us? But it does seem that these entities are drawn toward one another—so the fact that many of us were reborn close to some of these remnants would make sense.”

It’s all starting to add up. There’s just one piece I feel I’m still missing. “Do you know what these remnants are?” I ask. “Why they’re drawn to each other? Why the gods are so scared of them?” 

I feel more than see Fyre smiling sadly. “I was hoping that was one thing you could answer for me.” 

Well, I guess it would have been too easy to learn everything in one afternoon. But I feel better armed with understanding now. I’m also relieved to know none of the Lost Souls ended up in a body like mine. 

Relieved… and faintly envious. But if there are people like Ollie who ended up in the body of a dragon, then there could be others also reincarnated into bodies far from what they had on Earth, and that bothers me. 

“Is the kid doing okay?” I ask.  “I mean, this has got to be an adjustment for him.” I wonder if, like me, he’s similarly experienced discomfort with his vastly different anatomy. Obviously, not the same, but when your senses are ripped away and replaced with something completely foreign, well, that’s a lot for anyone to handle, let alone a kid. 

“Ollie?” Fyre becomes more subdued. “It’s been a bumpy ride. I’m still not sure if he really understands that he’ll likely never see his parents again. It’s hard to tell if he’s actually accepted it, or if he’s in denial. Or perhaps he’s keeping some of these feelings from me. I haven’t gone prying, but…”

“Oh.” It hadn’t really sunk in until now that Ollie had to have died to end up here. “I’m sorry. That’s…” Sad? Unfortunate? Words don’t seem to be enough for something that heavy. 

Fyre seems to understand what I mean anyway. She also seems to catch a hint of my guilt. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s nothing,” I say, embarrassed. “It’s just, I was actually wondering about how he’s adjusted to his new body.”

“Oh!” Fyre laughs. “He’s taken to that quite well. I mean, transforming into a dragon is just about every kid’s dream come true, isn’t it?” Her amusement fades. “Though I do wonder how he’ll feel as he grows older. I don’t want him to miss out on any meaningful experiences because of what he’s become. If he ever falls in love, will they be able to love him back? If he gets sick, will I be able to find someone who knows how to heal him? How can I prepare him to grow up when I don’t even know what that will look like?” She chuckles softly, her mind a swirl of affection and concern. “I know I’m worrying about futures that may never happen, but I want to help him live his best life, whatever that may be.” 

Fuck. She’s voicing a lot of the same thoughts I’ve had about myself. I know I’m lucky to have Zyneth here for me. He’s got to be one in a million. Will Ollie get that chance?

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so, so sorry I put all of you through this. And yeah, I know, ‘it was an accident,’ but that doesn’t erase what I did. I wish I could take it back.”

With her free hand, Fyre takes one of my hands and squeezes it. “You’re being too hard on yourself. And you know, not everyone ended up in a body that was uncomfortable to them. I’m pretty sure even if Ollie went back to earth, he’d still want to be a dragon.” 

I wish her assurances made me feel better, but they don’t. “And what about you?” I ask. “I mean, you’ve got wings and claws and are covered in feathers now. I doubt that’s something you were accustomed to on Earth.”

She laughs. “You’re correct about that. The feathers have been an adjustment. I just keep losing them everywhere. And it took some time to figure out my wings.” She flexes them, displaying all the blazing colors they hold. 

Then, I feel her mind withdraw. She hasn’t closed herself off from me, but she is holding something back. She’s uncertain about it. As she had done before with me, I wait, giving her the space to think through what she wants to say. 

“Not all the changes have been bad, though,” she finally continues, her mind tinged with the faintest hint of anxiety. “More than just my species has undergone a significant change.” She pauses again, shaping her thoughts. “You see, on Earth, I lived as a man.” 

It takes me a beat to understand the implications of this, but the moment I do, horror wraps around my soul. Oh god. And I thought I was uncomfortable in my new body. I can’t even imagine what she—he?—has been going through. I was so caught up in my own discomfort that I hadn’t even considered—

“No!” she objects, squeezing my hand. “Please don’t think that. Let me finish.” 

Guilt blooms anew in my mind, so potent it hurts. But I let Fyre continue. The least I can do is listen.

“I spent my life identifying as a man because… I suppose, because I didn’t quite understand there was an alternative,” Fyre says. “This sense of wrongness was always trailing me, no matter where I went or what I achieved. I could never pin down why—not until I was reborn here. You see, I never was particularly uncomfortable in my skin as a human, and so it was difficult for me to pinpoint where this sense of discomfort was coming from. I’m not sure if I ever would have figured it out if I hadn’t ended up here, in a very different body. That was what first got me to begin exploring the idea that I might be a woman. And I suppose I’ve always been one, even if I hadn’t understood it at the time. On Earth, it was as if I were covered in chains, weighing me down, and now, here, I feel so light. I’m free. I’m me.” 

I slump in relief. That took me on a rollercoaster of emotions, but I’m glad it ended where it did. Fyre is trans. (Or was? I don’t know how that works when you’ve been born twice.) Coming here gave her a body she resonated with more than the one she left behind on Earth. Basically the opposite experience to mine. 

And weirdly, that makes me feel better. I’d rather it be me dealing with this dysphoria than anyone else. I’m so glad she never had to experience that—as a human, or as a harpy. 

“I’m happy for you,” I tell her. “I don’t know if it was luck that you ended up in the body you did, or if there was something deeper that the System found. But I hope everyone else’s story is similar to yours—I don’t know what I’d do if I learned someone else ended up like me.” My thoughts are drawn back to Anika. Well, there’s at least one person who I know I condemned. 

“Kanin, you have to stop that,” Fyre says. “And at some point, you’re going to need to forgive yourself. What’s done is done. And I wouldn’t take it back if I had the power to do so. Did you forget that all of us are people who died? Our lives were already over.” 

[Psionic Touch ended.]

Fyre removes her hand from my core so she can wrap me in a hug instead. The top of her head barely reaches my shoulders, but it’s soft and comforting all the same. 

“You didn’t condemn anyone,” she says. “You gave us a second chance at life.”