Gobhastan trekked through a forest, his body growing fatigued from the lack of sustenance. He clenched his stomach. The last time he had a proper meal was three days ago, shortly before he and his fellow inmates broke out of prison. Since then, he had not eaten nor drunk anything but his own saliva. Trickle, trickle. Water was flowing nearby. He increased his speed and searched for the source of the sound. He soon found a small and shallow stream that meandered through the woodland. "Finally," he muttered. He kneeled at the riverbank, dipped his hands, and drank. Water had never tasted that good to him. Once he had quenched his thirst, he stripped himself and refreshed the rest of his body.

Gobhastan massaged the area around his neck as he bathed. All the prisoners were fitted with anti-magic neck braces, which had trackers installed. He removed it as soon as he escaped. It was difficult to detach—he resorted to using sharp stones to remove it—but he did not mind the pain. He could not afford to be recaptured. No, he must complete his journey to Mondéum, the largest city of Otrâlmondé.

The corners of his lips quirked as he imagined Mondéum. It was the city where he was born and raised. It was where his family stayed. It was where most of the realm's portals were located. And, most importantly, it was where he last faced the Realm Seekers.

The Realm Seekers. He gritted his teeth at the thought of them. The Realm Seekers were a trio of humans who owned magical jewelry. Jewelry that Gobhastan's father, Aurestan, crafted and sold. He knew not how exactly they ended up in human hands, but what he did know was that his father was punished heavily for it. He remembered the authorities cursing him with heavy fines before dragging him to prison. Even after serving his decades-long jail sentence, the suffering did not end. The family's jewelry business was not able to recover.

And what punishment did the humans receive? Nothing. The most the Gatekeepers did was confiscate the jewelry from the humans, but for some reason, they gave it back to them because the jewelry had "bonded to their bloodlines." The Gatekeepers even had the audacity to train those humans to use their abilities. Even worse, those humans ended up prancing around the other realms, doing "heroic deeds" and receiving praise from the peoples. His fists clenched tighter as he pictured their faces. "Those humans," he seethed. He despised no other species so passionately.

A fish swam near him. He caught it with both hands, refusing to let it slip away. He breathed deeply. A black cloud arose from his hands and enveloped the helpless creature. It initially squirmed under his grip, but it weakened as he fed off its life force. It soon became inanimate. He dropped it back into the river, leering as he watched the river current carry away the carcass. He felt the sides of his neck. The wounds that once lined it had healed.

Gobhastan waded towards the riverbank and stepped back onto land. After donning his underwear and pants, he held his shirt up and uttered an incantation. Dark mist shrouded it for a few seconds before dissipating. What was once a prison uniform had transformed into a cloak made of rags. Images occupied his mind as he put it on. He could picture the faces of the humans, their faces frozen by fear, and their jewelry—no, his family's jewelry—in his hands once he had torn them from their lifeless bodies. He was so close to vengeance last time, but the Gatekeepers managed to interfere just in time. His revenge would have been complete had they arrived a couple of minutes later.

He resumed his journey and came across a village. Luckily for him, the sun was still shining; the villagers must be asleep. He sneaked through the village entrance and searched for the nearest jewelry store. He spotted one a few blocks away. Instead of strolling through the open space, he crept close to the walls as he neared the shop. When he had reached the entrance, he halted and read the sign that hung on the door. The shop was closed.

He did not intend to go shopping. Gobhastan stepped on the shop's windowsill, reached for the drainpipe, and climbed upwards. He barely made a sound as he scaled up the wall and climbed onto the roof. He scanned the area for an entrance. There was a hatch positioned right next to the edge. He bent over to grip the handle and heaved the hatch open. To his surprise, it opened easily. It was not even locked. Perhaps there was a lack of crime in the village that caused the residents to be complacent. Gobhastan lowered himself into the shaft, using his feet to feel for the rungs, and climbed down the ladder. He found himself in what looked like a jeweler's workshop.

He heard breathing. Someone was inside. Gobhastan hid behind a table and peeked. There was another man in the room. A jeweler was busy besetting a silver ring with jewels, a couple of yawns escaping his mouth as he worked on his craft. He must be going to bed soon, Gobhastan thought. He sat in silence, waiting for the man to finish his work and leave the room. A few minutes passed. Though the man's movements grew sluggish, it did not seem like he was going to stop working anytime soon. Gobhastan was not having it.

He sprinted across the room. The jeweler jumped in his seat and turned his head to where the noise was coming from. Before he could scream, Gobhastan sealed the man's mouth with his left hand and choked him with his right. Gobhastan inhaled. A dark mist emerged from his arms and engulfed his victim. The man struggled to fight him off, flailing his limbs around, but he grew weaker and weaker as life seeped out of his body. The victim's body eventually became still. Gobhastan let go and tossed the man's corpse aside.

He sat at the workbench and gathered some materials. Luckily for him, there were already a few chunks of gold, silver, and iron for him to use. He searched the area for some stones—onyx, obsidian, opal, and bloodstone, among others. He then picked up some tools and crafted a set of rings.

Less than an hour had passed when he had finished his work. He wore his new rings on eight of his fingers. A rush of power surged through him as the rings amplified his abilities. He glanced back at the jeweler's lifeless body. If anybody found out about the murder, they could trace it back to him. He scanned the room. There was some fuel near the furnace. Without a second thought, he picked up the pail, doused the dead body in fuel, and set it aflame. He spread the fuel around the room before escaping through the hatch.

He left the village as quickly as he could. A smile indented on his face as he imagined the burning building, bringing the evidence down with it.

"Mondéum, here I come."

***

Helene ambled down the main street, slowing down as she neared the city library. Opposite the city library was another grand building, though it was not as large as the other structures in its vicinity. Statues of cloaked figures, with their heads exposed, guarded the entrance. Helene glanced to her left. Instead of being chiseled into the entablature, the building's name was embossed on a large sign that stood near the entrance. She read it.

THE GATEKEEPERS' GUILD
MONDÉUM, OTRÂLMONDÉ

She had arrived at her destination. Helene climbed the stairs and entered the building. As she expected, there was barely anyone inside; the only other person in the lobby was the receptionist. Helene remembered visiting many of the bases the Guild set up in other realms, and out of all of them, the one in Otrâlmondé was the smallest in terms of staff. Otrâlmondé held only one portal to Earth, and even then, it was connected to a small town. There was no need to station many people there.

She greeted the receptionist before making her way to one of the meeting rooms. She turned right, strolled down the corridor, and halted at the second door she encountered. She knocked thrice before opening it. Inside was a man who wore a dark brown cloak, the small wrinkles in his forehead suggesting that he was in his mid-40s.

"Master Helene," the man greeted her, holding out his hand. "Good afternoon. I'm glad you're able to make it."

"Good afternoon, Master Ward," she said, shaking his hand. The two of them then took their seats at the table. Helene closed the door with a lazy wave of her hand.

"Before we get down to business, can I ask about the new trio?" Master Ward inquired. "It's been a week since you started and I'm curious to know how they're holding up."

"They're doing very well," Helene said. "In fact, one of them is a prodigy."

"A prodigy," he repeated. "I bet you're referring to Celestine's niece."

"Nope. I'm referring to Brandon's nephew."

"Brandon's nephew?"

"He's almost nothing like his uncle. He doesn't talk much, but he always gets things done. Almost like a machine."

"Sounds a lot like you, personally," the man chuckled.

Helene smiled in return. She glanced out the corner of her eyes. There was a water dispenser not far from the table, and next to it was a rack with empty cups and glasses. Using mere eyesight, Helene lifted one of the cups, filled it with cold water, and brought it into her hand. She sipped some water before leaving the cup on the table.

"Speaking of training, aren't you supposed to be with them at the gymnasium right now?" he asked.

"I am," she replied, "but I told the two that I had errands to do—I wasn't lying, I did have to do a lot of other things this morning. Anyway, is there any news on Gobhastan?"

"Ah, yes. We've been in contact with the authorities and he hasn't been spotted yet. They think he escaped. They have, however, shared this."

He retrieved a gadget from his pocket, set it on the table, and projected an image from it. A digital map unfolded on the desk's surface. A handful of red spots dotted the map, while a large golden circle marked the capital city.

"These places are where they think he is"—the man pointed at some of the red dots—"or where they think he will go. The people in these towns have been alerted, so he should be caught anytime soon."

"You do realize that he doesn't have to pass through any towns in order to get here, right?"

The man paused, his eyes wide with realization. "Yes, but even then, Mondéum isn't the easiest city to get into. He still has to pass through the city guards. And not only that, without any magical jewelry to help him, it'll take him at least three weeks to reach here."

"True," Helene acknowledged. "But we're not talking about any ordinary Mondéne here. He's half-Mondéne and half-mage; he can perform magic without jewelry."

"Even if he can wield magic without jewelry, he still won't stand a chance against the city guards. There'll be no need for you to stop training." He retrieved something from his pocket. "By the way, there's something the Guild wants to give you."

He handed her a small, jet-black card. She received it with both hands and examined it. It was about the size and weight of a credit card, but it had no chip or magnetic strip. It was completely blank. She glanced at him.

"What's this?" she asked.

"It's a Portable Practice Room, or PPR," he replied. "So here's how it works: you paste it on any wall, just make sure that it's flat and vertical, and it'll expand into a door. The door will then lead to an empty room where you can summon equipment for training."

"A Portable Practice Room, you say?" She eyed the object more closely. "Was this the same thing that our technology division was working on a few years ago?"

"Correct. The Niteans managed to finalize the design earlier this year. They've also made three smaller versions for the new Realm Seekers to use for individual practice, you know, once the initial training phase has passed."

"What do you mean by 'smaller' versions?"

"The PPR you're holding right now"—he pointed at the card—"leads to an antechamber, which then leads to three separate practice rooms. The ones that you will give to the new Realm Seekers will lead to only one room each."

"Ah, I see. And if you want to summon equipment in the room, you only have to utter its name, and then it will appear, right?"

"Correct. How did you know?"

"I was involved in its development," she answered him. "The team asked me to help design it, so I spent a few days in Nitea working with them. I didn't expect the final product to turn out this small. I thought they would fit it into a large and heavy box or something."

"Huh, interesting," Master Ward said. "Anyway, there are limits to what you can summon. You can't summon electronics or any electrical devices."

"So I can't summon a fan?" she asked.

"If you mean an electric fan, then yes, you can't summon it. You also can't summon advanced things, like bathrooms and landscapes. It's quite limited."

"I don't think we'll need any advanced equipment."

"I will kill you."

Helene turned her head around. That voice. She had heard it before. She tilted her head as her eyes checked every corner of the room. She saw nobody else besides herself and Master Ward.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said. "I thought I heard something."

"You did."

The voice returned. She pressed both hands into the table and closed her eyelids. She used her telekinesis to draw a mental map of her surroundings, akin to a bat using its echoes to see. Her telekinetic sight told her that there were only two people inside the chamber, her included. She swore she heard someone hiss into her ear.

The male Gatekeeper looked at her with concern. "Is there something wrong?"

"Did you hear something?"

"Uh, no, I didn't."

"I did," she said, opening her eyes. "I heard him. He's near."

"Who?"

"Gobhastan," she said gravely. "I heard his voice."

"But, if he's near, they would've detected him," he said. "Maybe you're just hearing things."

"No, I am not," she affirmed. "I sensed the same thing just before Brandon died. That means..."

She did not complete her sentence. Helene stood up, opened the door with a glance, and dashed out of the chamber.

"Helene!"

"I must go!"

She had no time to waste. She pocketed the PPR as she sprinted down the corridor and exited the Gatekeeper base. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Though her body begged her to slow down, she did not. She could not afford to let any of them die.

The same voice whispered in her mind. "You will die."

"No I won't," she muttered. None of us will.

She hastened her speed and made her way to the gymnasium.

✧ ✧ ✧

Fun Fact: This chapter contains my first attempt at writing from the villain's POV. It was a pretty interesting experience.

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