Dorthna sat quietly in an empty room. The Lockwood house was empty today. The parents had taken the children to school. They would be gone for at least a few months. He wasn't sure when Ninra would be coming home. That one would be at least another month.

He lay back, lying on the floor of the empty room where he had been looking over Melmarc and Ark's training for the past few days. Where he'd watched Melamrc lose to his older brother while fighting without the use of pure mana every single day.

Perhaps it was time to leave again.

He held up three strands of white hair in his hand. For all his age and experience, here he was, staring at a possible point of success.

And he was chickening out.

He wasn't afraid, but his anxiety was delaying him. Pure mana was the most potent thing in all of known Existence. What if it didn't work?

What if it couldn't lift the curse?

"Is it human to be terrified of something without terror?" he asked himself.

It was a simple enough question. What exactly terrified him? Was he that afraid of failure? When the major powers of Existence had gone against him, he had faced them. Power had not terrified him, and the powerful had not terrified him either.

He frowned at the thought of another possibility.

All these years you've been looking for death, he told himself.

Now, here he was, staring at the possibility of it. Had everything just been a cry for attention? Self-pity? Had he been playing the victim to feel important somehow?

He stared at all three strands.

No.

It was the answer he came to. He was not a victim of his actions or that of the world. He had never been a victim. He was an outcome. Always an outcome. And he begot outcomes.

Fear was not an emotion that held him.

He sat back up and placed all three strands of hair on the ground before him. They were white as snow yet almost translucent now that they stood individually.

[You have used skill Eye of The World]

[Skill Eye of The World is functioning at 1%]

…

[Pure mana detected is 100.00%]

…

[You have used skill Hand of God]

[Skill Hand of God is functioning at 1%]

The existence of pure mana moved against him. Where it had once been a casual flow in his hand it was a current now, a wave that he fought to put in place. A single strand had healed Madness once, actually, it had been a subpar copy of a strand.

This was the real deal. The genuine article.

He felt the world move around him. Locked safely away here, he didn't worry about things going wrong. His pocket space was safe. A fragment of a world separate from a fragment of a world.

The walls around shook violently.

Shlah-Ta'at, he commanded, and the world obeyed.

The world fell into silence. It stilled.

Three strands of pure mana would not crack this world, not even as weakened and fragmented as it was. He was weak now, but it didn't mean that he was pathetic.

Dorthna sat in place, willing the purity of mana to exist. It had been easier with Madness because he had bent mana that he could use to achieve the possible that had seemed impossible. Now, he was commanding actual pure mana to attempt at a task that was supposed to be impossible.

He sat in place, fighting against mana, struggling to give it focus for the task of the impossible. Slowly, very slowly, he felt things begin to fall into place. His fragmented world calmed even without his authority holding it together.

Existence translated itself in front of him.

[Conditional Status debuff detected: Word of ????]

…

[Conditional Status Debuff: Word of ????]

???? has applied status effect Word of ???? on you.

All skills have been restricted to 1% Mastery.

Class rank has been reset to rank status as at the moment of attainment.

All skill ranks have been reset to rank status as at the moment of attainment.

[Condition of Debuff lifting]

Slay ???? or surpass ????

…

[Error Detected]

[Attempt to release debuff detected]

[Error! Error! Error!]

Dorthna dismissed it with a shrug of will.

He would not be distracted.

His focus shifted, then returned, then shifted again. It was almost as if Existence itself was trying to distract him from his task. But it wasn't strong enough. Eons ago, an [August Intruder] had waged war for their own selfish reasons after rising to the top. The outcome of it all had been a partial ruination of Existence. It was still healing from it while others tried to heal it as well.

Existence was not a force as strong as it had once been. It was like nature weakened. Not sentient, simply existent. And yet, ever so often you looked upon it and felt as if there was a will behind its actions.

There was none. The wind blew. Rain fell. The world shook. Nature existed simply because it existed.

But sometimes, the rain couldn't fall hard enough. Sometimes, the wind couldn't raise a typhoon.

Sometimes, Existence could not distract Dorthna.

Heal.

A strand of hair vanished.

It was gone, just like that. As if it had never been.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

There was no sign of his success. Nothing to tell him that he had found a way. Dorthna frowned, feeling an old sensation he had once walked away from. It had been one he had fallen into in the earlier years of being cursed.

Despair.

Existence gave him his warning once more, interpreting itself in front of him.

[Conditional Status debuff detected: Word of ????]

…

[Conditional Status Debuff: Word of ????]

???? has applied status effect Word of ???? on you.

All skills have been restricted to 1.1% Mastery.

Class rank has been reset to rank status as at the moment of attainment.

All skill ranks have been reset to rank status as at the moment of attainment.

[Condition of Debuff lifting]

Slay ???? or surpass ????

…

[Error Detected]

[Attempt to release debuff detected]

[Error! Error! Error!]

Dorthna paused before dismissing it. He stared at the notification once more.

A smile touched a corner of his lip. It twitched slightly.

[All skills have been restricted to 1.1% Mastery.]

He laughed.

It was a loud sound. A spit on the face of the debuff. This was it. A way. A path. This was his redemption.

As little and insignificant as it seemed. It was something.

It was hope…

… It was Melmarc Jay Lockwood.

Leaving the two remaining strands of hair on the ground, Dorthna rose to his feet. He sucked in a deep breath of air and let it out, smiling like a fool.

He stood there for a long time. Death had been kept from him, but maybe, just maybe, he finally had a path to who he once was.

He could finally stop trying to kill himself and failing.

He could.

He definitely could.

He certainly and definitely had to.

Ninra would have his head if she ever found out, after all.

Dorthna adjusted his shirt. "Let's go find a skyscraper."

…

Felix was late. It was the only explanation there was to it. It was also a stupid excuse for a Tatelat guard.

He shoved his way, feeling the heat as the crowd gathered. But there weren't enough people on the plane to cause the level of heat even gathered. Airlines allowed to fly into Tatelat had requirements that they were meant to meet. Such planes had a cooling system the likes of which required something close to a furnace to really leave an effect.

Obviously, a furnace would leave the plane hotter than what it was right now. What mattered, though, was the chaos. Something had gone wrong. And as Felix pushed through the crowd, he heard murmurs amidst the panicked cries. Bright Flame.

"… What is the Bright Flame..."

"… Did he say Bright Flame…?"

"… Are they terrorists…"

"… Is there a terrorist on board…"

"… How did a terrorist get on the plane…"

"… I thought their security was good. I'm not flying this airline again…"

Felix knew nothing about a terrorist group by that name. Terrorist or not, he knew one thing, though. The heat and the chaos were being caused by a Gifted.

Now, if I can just get past these—

An explosion boomed from the direction he was pushing towards. The plane shook. His stance moved, destabilized. He went down, only stopping himself from falling with a hand on a chair.

A frown marred his lips as the sounds of panic grew and the chaos of people was accompanied by blaring sounds and rushing wind. Oxygen masks fell from the overhead compartments.

He watched people shoot into seats. They strapped themselves in, panicking, and pulled their oxygen masks over their faces. Some people struggled with others, arguing over ownership of the seats or one thing or another. He saw at least three mothers begging for a space for their children.

"…Just let her have the mask," a mother was pleading. Her cries fell on deaf ears as the woman in question fastened her mask and started breathing hard.

A fight broke out immediately. People fought for a chance at surviving the ordeal. Felix was not here to keep the peace. He was here to stop attacks on the plane or terrorism. With that in mind, he pushed past time, made his way to the point of the commotion.

With people scrambling about, he could catch glimpses of what was happening. A fight had broken out. A burning man, bright as an overpowered yellow bulb, zipped in one direction. A large… man?... followed, moving just as quickly to slam into him.

Felix squinted, pushing another passenger aside.

"MOVE!" he bellowed. "GUARD INCOMING!"

His voice was lost to the sound of rushing wind, the blaring alarm of the plane, and the sounds of people panicking.

He pushed harder.

Planes like this weren't so bad. Even with a few holes in it, as long as someone did not find a way to disable all the active spells and enchantments in the plane, any competent pilot could still land it. Besides, they weren't very far from the landing strip now. They were already practically over the airport.

The pilot just had to focus on landing the plane while he focused on stopping the terrorist. With the title of Bright Flame, it was easy to tell who the bad guy was. He was clearly the one who burned the brightest.

Another explosion boomed ahead. The sound of rushing wind increased. Felix staggered, catching himself by the back of a woman's shirt. His hand clamped around her bra strap through the shirt, taking purchase. She came crashing down under the weight of him and his hand shot out to grab a chair on nothing but instinct.

The woman hit the floor and Felix pulled himself forward. Finally, he'd made it. Just in time to hear a declaration.

"Today!" the burning declared, snarling at two very tall boys as he burned too bright. "You will know the existence of the league of the Bright Flames!"

Everything else happened in the blink of an eye. Felix knew a channeled skill when he saw it being used and knew that they always had devastating areas of effect. It was part of the reason he was a guard. He had passive and active skills that were designed to minimize the effect of such large-scale skills.

He held his hands out and activated one of them.

[You have used skill Stay on Your Side]

The skill was designed to wrap the mana around a person and bind it to them. Most skills traveled using the mana in the air. Binding the mana around them to a specific position limited the range of any skill a person cast but it didn't last very long. A few seconds at best.

He saw when the skill took effect. The air shimmered slightly.

His panic calmed a little, but it wasn't as if the plane would still take no extra damage.

"ARK, NO!"

Felix head turned to the boys as one of them crossed the distance in the blink of an eye. He was definitely Gifted. He blitzed through everything and grabbed the burning man in a full-on embrace.

"No!" Felix screamed, reaching out as if he could somehow grab the boy.

The boy jumped out of the plane, disappearing in the rush of wind. The other boy, who'd been very active through everything, stopped very suddenly. He froze in place.

Shock did that to people. He probably knew the other boy. Losing someone was a difficult thing. But he couldn't worry about the boy. There were more important things to—

The boy moved. He practically vanished from Felix's sight. His eyes barely traced a blur of the boy as it moved.

The blur trailed a path to the opening in the plane.

Felix's jaw dropped.

Did he just jump?

…

Melmarc stared at the empty space where Ark had just disappeared out into the open world. His mind was quiet, silent. Shock hit him hard.

Not hard enough.

His minds collided as one. There was only one thing.

Jump.

And he did.

The air rushed to meet him as he fell. He'd jumped forward, hoping he hadn't wasted too much time. His clothes were almost completely burnt off. His pants hung from him in patches. A spot on it was completely unharmed, though. His pocket, where he'd kept his phone.

He didn't have the time to think about it. Then again, was he even thinking. Ark had gone, then he had gone. It had been as simple as that.

Ark would not die on him. In this moment, the consequences of anything could go and end itself. The people on the plane didn't matter. Becoming a Delver was a waste of his time.

Nothing mattered except the empty sky he was in and the rush of the wind against his face because it made it difficult for him to see.

Still, he peered down, eyelids narrowed to block out as much of the wind as possible. He was in a free fall. Above him the airplane had moved on its way.

There! He thought, spotting Ark. He was alone.

Melmarc's eyes darted around. There were no signs of fire. No burning man. He didn't care. He returned his focus on Ark.

He was far, but not too far. But they were falling fast, very fast. The world of buildings and trees and roads kept rushing up to meet them. Tiny things were becoming a little less tiny a little too fast.

Ark lay with his back to the world, hands and feet spread out. Melmarc would've thought he was somehow trying to reduce the speed of his fall until he saw the look on Ark's face.

His brother's eyes were closed. He looked peaceful. Accepting.

Fuck that!

Melmarc dived. He streamlined his body and aimed at Ark like a spear. He felt himself fall faster. Still not fast enough.

He wanted to call out to Ark but didn't. He would make it, but then what?

No.

Ark had accepted his fate regardless of how much Melmarc hated it. But there was no plan. He had jumped because he had jumped. If they failed, he didn't want to take Ark's peace of acceptance just to ruin it.

Faster, he pleaded as the world rushed up faster.

[You have used skill Weight of Jupiter]

He felt himself grow heavier. It didn't matter. What brought him pleasure was when he felt himself fall faster. Melmarc would've never believed that a day would come when he wanted to fall faster.

The world rushed up. It felt so quick. Suddenly he could see the roofs of buildings clearly. See the shapes of people.

His eyes widened in horror and the wind battered against them so that he was forced to close them for a moment lest they shrivel up from dryness.

He opened it and the world was already there, staring him in the face. Ark, too.

As if sensing him, Ark opened his eyes. They widened in horror.

"What the hell? Mel—"

Melmarc snatched Ark out of the air and turned him. "TUCK YOUR FUCKING KNEES TO YOUR CHEST!"

Ark obeyed, bringing his knees up to his chest as Melmarc held onto him, completely covering his back.

The world roared at them from below.

Please work!

The world met them.

Please work.

[You have used skill Knowledge is Power]

Pain the likes of which Melmarc had never felt hit him everywhere. It crushed him, ruining every single part of him. Bones broke. Organs burst. Flesh tore. Blood flowed.

The world boomed on impact.

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