48th of Season of Fire, 57th year of the 32nd cycle

Pillar of light? What the hell happened? Why me?

"Pillar of light?" Newt clamped his mouth shut when he realized he was stuttering the words aloud.

"Yup." His sixth sister nodded vigorously, beaming with joy. "I wasn't there, but I saw it from a distance. As bright as day… Well, brighter. In fact, I didn't know the world could get so bright. Twochains was there; his master told him the exalt himself had left his meditation to protect you."

Exalt. Newt frowned, then his jaw went slack, and he slumped back onto the bed. How much money do I owe them? What is the cost of a tenth realm awakened stopping their realm sculpting and wasting the gathered mana? I thought the clan was destitute, but we were never in as much debt as I am right now.

Suddenly, Newt's chest grew tight, and breathing became impossible. He was a burden. He was making matters worse for everyone.

Goodair glanced at Newt clenching his chest, and pointedly ignored the gesture.

"Twochains had no clue why the esteemed exalt appeared when he did, but my guess is he thought his order was under attack."

Heavens! Did I damage the defensive spell seals?

"Newstar." Goodair grabbed his wrists, serious for the first time since he met her. "I think you are focusing on the wrong thing."

She paused and stared him in the eye, none of the flippantness left in that heavy gaze; only the hardness of bedrock remained.

"You. Nearly. Died." She clenched his arms with enough strength to turn mortal limbs into sausages. "If the exalt hadn't been there, you would have died. The sort of heat that destroyed the field wasn't something you or I could ever survive. I'm not sure Master could have survived it. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Newt's skin crawled. He really could have died. To him, everything was just a dream, a somewhat painful dream, but still a dream, then he awoke without a scratch.

I need to ask Master to explain what happened to me.

"At least you're aware of the gravity of it all. Master missed my training on the first day, even though it's an hour before sunset. When I asked her about it, she said she had forgotten. I've been here for years, and she has never forgotten anything regarding her wards. Not once." Goodair leaned in closer, her nose a palm's width from Newt's.

"She was worried and distraught. Master might seem rigid or like she doesn't care, but she does. She cares about all of us, and losing wards was devastating for her. What I'm trying to say is, please, please, don't make Master worry too much, or I'll break your legs." She grinned and winked. "Got it?"

Newt nodded, his jaw cracked open, feeling like his soul had left him.

I nearly died. Again. What would happen if I die? Would anyone else try to save Father and Mother? What would happen to the clan? What about Master? Dandelion? Would they be sad?

By the time Newt regained his wits, Goodair had left the room. His heart was still shaken, his thoughts dark, but he realized one thing.

My death would have been painless, had I died. I didn't know what was happening; I didn't suffer. Newt's breathing grew shallow, minutes passing between his breaths. Something was there, he could feel it within reach, dancing just beyond the grasp of his conscious thoughts.

It was the dream, it was the reality, it was what he had just experienced. The realization was like water about to turn to ice, but missing one last speck of cold. Like always when trying to do something beyond him, Newt's thoughts shifted to Dandelion, but before he got to ask himself, 'What would Dandelion do?' he had his answer.

The path of amiability. Path.

The snowflake touched the lake of his idea, and ice blossomed. Newt's thoughts turned crystal.

My path. Death is easy, burdens of life, of living are hard. Duty, obligation, love. What is my path? What do I live for? What defines me?

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The veins of ice spread through the lake of his consciousness. They covered the surface, making it solid. He knew what he was doing, he had the crust, and as the crystalline tendrils spread to the depth, he understood what he should do.

I want to protect my parents, my clan, my friends. I want to make them happy, to keep them safe. The thoughts resonated with something from his delirious vision, and Newt shuddered.

He entered his realm, searching for the flying serpent. Newt ran all over the place before climbing back to the crater, where Magmin lay coiled, his wings folded.

"Magmin, do you hear me?"

Irrational fear burned inside Newt. What if Magmin had seen the vision? What if the serpent saw how it died? Would it connect the dots? Would it turn hostile?

Roused from his meditation, Magmin shifted, then opened his eyes and looked at Newt.

"Yes, what is it?"

"How are you feeling? Are you well? Is something bothering you?"

The serpent eyed Newt suspiciously.

"I am feeling well." Magmin's gaze sharpened. "Did something happen? Is there a reason for me not to feel well?"

"No, no, I'm just asking. You were still there, sitting by the volcano."

"No good rocks to slither under while I'm shaping my realm, and the heat is the most intense here. Now, why the sudden interest?"

"Something happened to me outside, and I was afraid it impacted you negatively. That's all."

The giant flying serpent eyed Newt suspiciously. "Very well. I will need to resolve this situation soon. For as long as I reside within your realm, any dangers you face are dangerous to me as well."

Newt agreed, but wasn't sure how Magmin could do anything from inside his realm. There probably wasn't anything, but as long as it kept Magmin busy…

"Sure. I got to go now." Newt left his realm. He opened his eyes, but the room suddenly wasn't empty as he had expected.

"See? He was just sculpting his realm." Newt heard a familiar voice while Obsidian stood right beside him, peering into his face.

Newt glanced past his roommate and spotted the orange-haired healer who had discharged him from the Chamber of Healing the last time he was there.

"I'm alright." Newt said with absolute confidence.

"I'll be the judge of that." The ginger shot him a terrible frown and raised three fingers. "How many fingers do you see?"

It took twenty minutes to convince Nurse Carrot that Newt was sane, that he could see, hear, smell, and feel pain. She performed the last test with way too much zeal and too little professionalism for Newt's taste, but he endured being stabbed with a wooden poker.

Finally, the orange nuisance left, muttering she should discuss keeping Newt for observation with her boss, despite the chaplain's orders.

"So, how are you feeling?" With the grumpy healer gone, Obsidian finally had the chance to say something.

"Better than ever, thanks." Newt smiled, then his grin turned awkward. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

Obsidian waved his hand, dismissing Newt's question. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Your master saved me in time, and I'm glad you're also doing well."

Newt nodded slowly. Should I ask him? He was there, and he saw the whole thing, he should know what had happened better than anyone else.

Newt was tempted. He opened his mouth, then changed his mind. "When do you think we can have that spar?"

I'll ask Master. Obsidian seems uncomfortable enough, and there's no need to make things harder on him.

Newt expected a stutter or a wince, but Obsidian shrugged. "Whenever you feel like it."

Newt nodded, and silence drowned the room. He burned with the desire to ask about what had happened, but could not, and he guessed Obsidian had questions he wanted to ask, but found the topics equally sensitive.

Fortunately, someone was there to help them. Lord Flameax entered the room, his gait bouncy, void of grace or any other attribute one would expect from a champion and valiant-tier mageknight.

Is this the first time I see him walk instead of zipping around?

"Hey kids, how are you doing? I didn't expect to see both of you here." For some reason, the silly walk and the whole appearance made Newt think Lord Flameax's parents should have named him Fuzzy.

"Greetings, Lord Mageknight," Obsidian gave a respectful bow, and Newt wondered whether he had done the same when he first met Lord Flameax. "I was just leaving."

"There's no need to leave just because I'm here," Lord Flameax assured Obsidian, but the younger man left the room after another respectful bow.

The door clicked closed, leaving Newt alone with his teacher.

"I apologize if I caused you trouble, teacher," Newt said just as Lord Flameax opened his mouth.

"No trouble at all. In fact, I think my realm expanded a bit with so much pure fire-attributed mana coursing through my body. Not just mine, so while you have caused us trouble, you did provide some benefits as well, so there's no reason to feel too bad about what happened."

Newt smiled, realizing the eccentric champion was trying to reassure him, but then the man hurriedly added, "Not that there was a reason for you to feel bad in the first place. It wasn't your fault those things happened, and even if it was, I don't think you did it intentionally."

"Thank you, Teacher. Could you tell me what happened? I assume you were nearby when whatever happened had happened?"

Lord Flameax was silent for a moment, gazing into the distance before he found his words.

"Nobody is really certain about why it happened…"

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