Day in the story: 17th December (Wednesday)

I woke up a few minutes past midnight, in the bed within my Domain. I couldn't remember the last time I had slept on Earth, but the energy I gained here, after only the smallest fraction of the sleep I would've needed there, stretched my days so much that it was impossible to give up the convenience. In a way, it was a shame, because I had always loved sleeping. Dreams had often been a source of inspiration for me, and now, with sleep so brief, I didn't dream at all. On the other hand, being in Ideworld was almost like dreaming in itself, only more vivid, more real.

I still had a few hours before the meeting with Penrose, so I decided to try absorbing the crystal Joan had given me.

But training had to come first. Since instinctive use of shadowlight already came easily to me, I decided to once again focus on using my abilities at a distance, within the boundaries of my aura. It shouldn't be difficult. Malik, for example, had been doing it ever since his Domain manifested—and let's be honest, despite all his qualities, which I really am starting to notice and appreciate, the guy is no genius.

So why was it so hard for me?

**********

I stood in the circle of cards I had made. They waited, like silent messengers, linked to me but empty of power. I could fill them in an instant if I touched them. I could starve them with even less effort now. That part had become so simple.

Yet why did the act of sending still felt so hard? Why did I hesitate, when I already knew I was the Author and the source? Two hours passed since I started this and I had tried it so many times already, ordering, asking, begging, pleading and nothing had worked.

My power was mine to give. That was true. But as I stood there, reaching for the link, something inside me pulled back. There was something in me that felt inherently broken.

"You are broken, Alexa, broken beyond repair." Jason's words echoed through my mind. Was he right, after all? Maybe all of this would never have happened if I had just told him the truth about me, about everything in this world that he couldn't see.

But I was afraid.

What was I afraid of?

In Jason's case it was obviously a trust issue.

"Why is it so hard for you to trust people?" Nick's voice returned to me. He was right too, every time. Easy for him to say; he had a loving family around him all his life.

Even his Domain supported building trust and connection between people. And me? I had been thrust into the world of crime since I was a little girl, forced to do abominable things, taught never to trust, that trust would kill me faster than any weapon. Was it always true?

No.

I had trusted people before, some out of devotion or debt beyond what they deserved, like Penrose. And others, out of love and companionship, like Peter, Sophie, or Zoe, to them I had opened myself easily. I rarely hesitated, because those bonds were more important to me than the potential of being hurt.

The bond!

I touched the bond with my mind, feeling its delicate readiness. It was a promise, an open hand. And my authority was poised to pour through it, if only I allowed it. Was it the same here?

Then I saw it.

I had been willing to give my power, but never willing to trust it beyond my own skin. To let it travel through a link meant trusting that it would do what I intended, far from my direct control, acting in a world I could no longer cradle with my own hands. I had to treat it like I treated my friends.

That was the fear.

It wasn't about control. It was about faith.

The link was safe. I had made it. It was mine, woven from my soul. If I could not trust that, then what could I trust?

Anansi, soft in the back of my mind, hummed a single word:

[Trust.]

Yes.

I took a deep breath. I chose to trust the link, to trust my own authority to find its path and its purpose. I sent my power forward. It moved, a living river of self, crossing into the card, filling it with flame, answering the bond exactly as I dreamed.

The card changed its identity with no resistance, no betrayal. Only perfect obedience.

I had always been the source, but now, I trusted the flow.

[That's huge progress, congratulations, Alexa.]

Thank you, Anansi. I answered in my thoughts, while my body broke into a little dance of joy. Each limb moved in harmony only with itself, without regard for any overall rhythm. I decided to trust them too, for this special moment.

This discovery alone, this small revelation about my soul and my issues with trust, opened up new paths before me. I could, for instance, paint dozens of traps before a fight I was expecting and trigger them the moment an enemy stepped close, without having to expose myself to direct contact with metal fists, burning blades, snow-and-coal mandibles, or other dreamed-up dangers.

At last, I could return to being an artist, even on the battlefield, instead of pretending to be a warrior. Of course, fighting also brought me a measure of joy and satisfaction, and the cognition, speed, strength, and agility offered by my shadowlight made using my body as a weapon far easier than it had ever been before I became a mage.

And I wasn't going to abandon that part of me, but please understand when I say I'd missed that kind of work—things that required preparation, creativity, and artistry. The way I defeated the terracotta warrior, and Edward, gave me so much satisfaction.

[In that joy you're forgetting the crystal.]

Oh! Anansi, girl, thanks for the reminder. Are you hungry? Is the little rascal itching to swallow a foreign Domain?

[I won't hide it, curiosity eats at me. I don't know what it will feel like.]

Really, a word play?

[Yes.]

I love you more girl.

By the way, I wonder if I could make a body for you. Maybe, if my abilities ever develop enough that my creations can leave their medium, I could paint a body for you. What do you think?

[I don't know if that's possible, I'm part of your soul.]

A part, not the whole. Who said a soul can't be divided into smaller pieces? Did someone say that?

[I don't know. You don't either.]

Even so, an artist has the right to paint the world as she pleases, doesn't she?

[That's true. I'll wait for my body with impatience.]

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

As I headed back to the bedroom to fetch the crystal from Joan, my thoughts drifted to the idea of Anansi as my physical companion. It would be nice to have her closer—physically, not just meta-spirits-wise. Maybe you can't be any closer than being part of a soul, but there's something about touch that makes you truly feel another being's presence, right?

I wondered whether a spider's body, which is how I pictured her in my imagination would suit her. Or perhaps something entirely abstract, like a spider-rabbit? I snickered under my breath.

[If it's a spider-rabbit, I want spider legs and a rabbit body, not the other way around.]

Look at her! Already she's setting requirements for her future body, and we don't even know if it'll be possible.

Maybe a regular cat would be enough? Then she could travel with me on Earth and interact with earthly creatures and places. At least that's what it seemed to me. I think Reality wouldn't mind in that case, but I could be wrong.

Anyway.

At last, I stood with the cold crystal of someone else's domain in front of the warm crystal of my own soul core. I let the rainbow light briefly caress the skin of my face.

Ready, Anansi?

[I won't be more than this. There isn't much work for now.]

Complaining about being idle?

[Just reporting my status. The past few days have been intense. Now I'm resting.]

We'll see if that holds. I thought to her, took a deep breath, and touched the crystal hanging at the center of my little world.

Fuck!

Damn Joan really downplayed the effect that comes with facing the authority of a foreign domain trapped inside a crystal fragment. I can't say the opposition on its part was overwhelmingly strong, but it was persistent enough that I immediately pulled back my hand, stopping the entire process.

Tears ran down my cheek. It felt like I was about to extinguish the last flickering candle in an otherwise completely dark universe. Physically, it wouldn't have been difficult—just reach forward, pinch the flame with your fingers, and puff! But morally, I felt awful being the one tasked with doing it.

I slid down to the floor, leaning my back against the nearby couch. I gently placed the crystal fragment beside me on the obsidian-black floor and began to ponder.

Why is this so hard for me, Anansi? I've killed before. On Earth and in Ideworld. People, animals, shadows. I've even killed ideas, abandoning certain concepts, knowing that what could have emerged from them would have had a soul of its own. So why does this step feel so difficult?

[Perhaps subconsciously, you feel like you're ending something that could have become an entire world?]

That could become of Domains?

[And it isn't already? Even though your Domain is connected through Ideworld to your apartment, you could just as well move it elsewhere. You also set the rules here.]

Wait, wait. Right, I set the rules here, like gravity, for example, isn't that true?

[Correct. For now, you're using what you consider natural in your world, but it's you who's the... Sorry, I'm afraid to use that word, so as not to feed your pride even more.]

God?

[…You said it, not me.]

But you are me. You keep saying that yourself.

[I'd like to retract that testimony. I've changed my mind.]

I sighed. Even though Anansi's change made me happy, the prospect of fully consuming the seed of another universe weighed on me. However, if I was to face the upcoming challenges and I truly believed more would come, I couldn't afford to be sentimental about universes-that-could-have-been.

I thought about setting the gravity in my Domain to zero around me and floated upward with just a small push from my hands in a seated position. The crystal of the foreign Domain followed closely behind. I grabbed it deftly, and with a single thought, restored gravity to Earth's standard as I landed in front of my soul core.

So cool!

I wondered if, once I learned to summon my Domain the way Joan does, I could do it outside as well. Probably yes—after all, they had managed to pin me to the ground. But beyond my Domain, I guessed it wouldn't come without some cost. Worlds, this one or another, don't like it when a foreign Authority imposes its will.

I set those thoughts aside. I focused inward, bracing myself for the next shock, and touched my crystal again, becoming a bridge between it and the fragment I held close to my chest.

I felt a scream within my soul.

A piercing, ripping scream.

The scream of a dying star, desperate not to fade away.

It was weak, its light barely flickering.

But I also felt its history.

Years of devotion and sacrifice that had built the universe around the crystal.

I felt shapeless dreams and efforts, failures and successes.

I sensed their power, without needing concrete images.

I was aware that with my thought and the force of my Authority, I could snuff it all out. Destroy it, tear it into fragments of nothingness.

But I didn't want to do it that way.

Thank you, I thought, instead of taking it.

I will embrace the essence you have gathered and use it to build something new upon the foundations of your world, and though it will never be the same, this essence will continue to live in my world.

The screams eased, as if an invisible wind carrying them had slowed.

I feel your beauty. The power of your creation and even though I cannot see it, its truth will forever remain within my soul and my Domain.

The screams faded into incomprehensible whispers, the last words of a dying world.

I felt my soul weep with it, bound in despair.

But I also felt something else. A seed of hope emerged.

I reached for it.

I grasped it and let it bloom.

**********

As consciousness returned, an extraordinary sight unfolded before my eyes. The ceiling of my Domain had cracked, and toward that fissure, like the sprout of some nascent plant, crystalline vines rose upward, emanating from my soul core. Inside those vines, shadowlight flowed back and forth in rainbow colors, like an otherworldly blood.

Through the crack, real moonlight streamed into my Domain, and the sky beyond shimmered with a thousand stars, their colors blending like spilled and mixed nebula paints.

My nose caught the fresh scent of salty air, as if I were standing right above the ocean.

I slowly stood up, looking around, but I didn't notice any other changes. Was this crack a sign of the evolution of my Domain, or of my attitude toward trust? Had I opened myself to the world, allowing it to look down on me? To peer into the depths of my soul?

[It seems to me that the expanding crystal is a sign of the Domain's evolution, and the rest is a reflection of how you see yourself. The Domain could look however you wish—it is, after all, your world.]

Thank you, Anansi, that makes sense. I answered her in my thoughts as I approached my crystal. How do we look in terms of development?

[You've reached stage two. You are at around 11%. You need 89% more essence of Authority to initiate further growth.]

You're kidding? And you're thinking about this so calmly!?

I began bouncing with excitement.

Does that mean I can add a new soulmark? I asked, but without waiting for an answer I touched my soul core. Almost immediately I felt that there wasn't yet room for a new one, but that those already present in my core could be expanded.

[The next growth will let you add a new soulmark. Now it's time to choose which of the existing ones you'd like to strengthen with the essence you've gathered.]

I focused first on the icon of the Soulmark of Trueform, recalling how my Domain had described its effect:

[When the author understands someone's or something's true form, they have much greater Authority in rewriting their identity.

Art brought to life retains its visual and conceptual identity, it becomes what it represents, not what it physically is.

As long as the creation remains fixed to its medium, it gains the real-world properties of the thing it is perceived and understood to be.

The artwork does not move, animate, or leave the surface. It functions through identity, not transformation.

Verisimilitude is important. The art has to have the appearance of being true or real.]

Reaching deeper with my soul, I probed and tested my small icon, trying to uncover how choosing it would alter its power. Finally, when I stopped forcing it and nearly gave up, my little icon, on a metaphysical level, shot tendrils toward my soul and wrapped itself around me. Again, I felt as I had when the Voidling surrounded me with its abyss, stripping my soul bare of all unnecessary layers. And in that place outside of time, I sensed it was offering me strength drawn from its bond with the Soulmark of Connection.

If I chose to develop this particular soulmark, I would be able to use more suggestive, conceptual artistic forms to summon identities.

It was undeniably a strong improvement, one that would shorten the time needed to paint, especially in battle. I wouldn't have to be as precise as I am now, carefully painting everything exactly as it should appear. Combined with the metaphysical grasp of identity I'd recently discovered, it could become a formidable enhancement.

Thank you, my Voidling, I thought, pulling my mind away from it.

I turned my focus toward the infinity knot, woven of ever-flowing water. With my aura, I reached deep inside to recall its description.

[The Soulmark of Connection allows the artist to use a painting as a spatial tether to a real, existing location. By rendering a faithful depiction of a place they know, the artist creates a magical link that can be activated to instantly travel to that site.

The painting must depict a real, specific location the artist has physically experienced or deeply internalized. The connection is anchored through memory and representation.]

I sank my soul into the icon again, this time the one representing endless connection. When that ocean, locked in a knot, flowed over me as a spiritual water, I understood the change that was being born within it.

If I chose to develop this one, I would gain the ability to use artistic identity as both an anchor and a target. The way one soulmark influenced another during their evolution was obvious here as well.

I wasn't entirely sure I understood its function correctly. If I painted an image of Equinox in my Travel Grimoire, could I then transport myself to it? Or could I bring it to me? I was hoping for an answer from Anansi, but she didn't know exactly what the change would look like either.

Still, I made my decision.

Although identity was incredibly important to me, Connection had opened so many doors and the seed of change glowing within that soulmark was intriguing enough that I decided to let it grow.

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