 
Fulvia Bonaiuti

Journey to Fjunur

Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2014 Fulvia Bonaiuti

ISBN 9781311598394

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Contents

Copyright

Contents

Dedication

15

Nimgirith, Nimgirith, where are you?

473

The green line

Don't panic

It was almost noon

No more signs

It was four o'clock

15

Somebody knocked at the door

The grass was an intense green

It took longer than expected

Silence reigned

1807

A gentle breeze

The light of the fires

Silence fell upon the village

Why

Sildariel

The day dawned

All gazes

Tension filled the air

They came back

The night passed

The frozen stone

The village was thrilled

The strange puppet

The banquet

The labyrinth

He had reached the middle

1

Strange

She had no time

The fog had disappeared

A dark strain

The medallion

No

Thank you

Faewal

473

The music

About the author

Acknowledgement
to Sveva and Filippo
Nimgirith, Nimgirith, where are you?

"Nimgirith, Nimgirith, where are you?"

The little girl's long red ponytail swayed as she ran through the corridor in search of her friend. She had emerald green eyes that sparkled with a smart and impish light. She was four and she dressed like a boy, but clearly she was not one. She was the princess, and her name was Faewal.

While approaching the biggest door along the corridor, the little girl slowed down and looked at it. The door was impressive, made of a glass-like material, shiny white and without handles. No handle was needed because the door itself decided when it should open. Of course, the door was very reasonable and immediately understood when one had purpose to enter, so nobody was ever left outside or inside against his wish. It is also true that nobody ever even thought about entering the Throne Room without a very good reason, and this is why nobody was ever left out or in.

Faewal almost stopped in front of the door. She could not help doing it, even though she knew she was not allowed to enter the Throne Room. In fact, she was not interested in the Throne Room at all—there was nothing appealing to a little girl there, and she knew this—she just wanted to see the door. And the door knew that. Its stiff and bright surface started to move slowly as if liquefying but still remaining vertical, and after few seconds, something seemed to jut out of it. A big bulbous nose stuck out, followed by a pair of full lips, and then two eyelids opened, disclosing two lively eyes.

"Good morning little Princess," said the door, its flashy lips moving slowly.

"Good day to you, Door," Faewal responded. She passed the door but suddenly stopped and walked back. "Have you seen Nimgirith, by any chance?" asked the princess with that impish light in her eyes.

The face of the door was already disappearing, melting with the surface, when the eyelids re-emerged and opened again. "Are you playing hide-and-seek with her?" inquired the door with an openly stern look.

The little girl thought for a second, then looked down, away from the door's gaze. "Yes," she confessed.

"So I won't tell you." The Door tried to maintain its stern look, but a tiny smile appeared at the corner of its mouth. "And you should have not asked me."

Faewal knew that the Door was right, thus she kept looking down for a few seconds, but she was also conscious of being the princess and knew that she should always maintain her presence, even if she had made a mistake. So she met the door's gaze again.

"You're right," she admitted. "But I'll find her anyway, you know? Have a good day, Door."

The Door smiled slightly, then closed its eyes and started to melt again. In a few seconds, its surface was once more the shiny white, glass-like material, and Faewal resumed her running to the end of the corridor.

"Nimgirith, I will find you," she called loudly. "And without any help!"

"Shh! You will wake up mum—"

The little girl turned her head and stopped immediately. Her eyes meet the deep blue ones of her eldest brother, Lethkhjar.

He was a tall boy with coal black pageboy hair and snow-white skin. His clothes were immaculate, as if he never played like children are supposed to, and his bearing showed that he was used to dealing with adults. He clearly behaved like the next in line to the throne. Nobody would have said that he was only seven.

"Sorry," Faewal whispered, "I forgot. . ."

She gazed at her brother who looked serious and reproaching, her first instinct being to ask him about Nimgirith, but she remembered the lesson from the Door and remained silent. Lethkhjar averted his eyes from the sister and, as silently as he had appeared, he went back to the room he had just exited. Faewal started walking away gently, but her silence lasted only for a few seconds. She was so excited about the game she was playing that nobody could stop her from running in search of her friend. Not even the awareness that her mother was sick in bed.

It is not that she did not care for her mother; of course she loved her! But like all little children, she was easily distracted, especially after days of not having seen her mother. She had been told she could not even enter the room her mother was in, because the queen was too tired and sick even to see her own beloved children.

But the true reason why Faewal and her brothers could not enter that room was not that the queen was too tired and sick. In fact, the queen was not in that room. Quite simply, the queen had disappeared.

One day—three weeks earlier—one of the queen's ladies-in-waiting was unable to find her in the castle, nor in the enormous gardens surrounding it. As the lady was looking for the queen in order to raise a relatively minor issue to her attention, she decided not to bother her mistress, thinking she might simply want to be left alone for a while. Indeed the queen was used to having long walks in the gardens, and sometimes even in the nearby forest, so it did not seem unusual for her to be absent for some hours. Nor was it unusual that nobody thought to look for her until very late in the evening, when it was clear that something very odd had happened.

At that point, all the men living in the castle were ordered to the forest to search for the queen; they looked high and low, not only that night, but for three days without break, but unfortunately without success.

Now, it happened that the queen disappeared at a time when the people of the kingdom were at war. These people were called Men, and they had been fighting against the Elves for a very long time. To say a very long time is not actually correct, as it implies that one can tell since when they had been fighting, but in this case, neither Men nor Elves could tell the exact start of the war. Not even an approximate date, to be honest. So, it would be more correct to say that the war between Men and Elves had been going on forever. The reason for the war was another big issue. Nobody could remember exactly why Men and Elves were fighting—something that happens quite often during long-drawn wars. There were rumours that it was about control over the crystalline and cold waters of the Biggle Deeple Lake which was enclosed by the Bluntle Mantle Mountains, and this might well have been true, as the Biggle Deeple Lake was the biggest source of water, while Men and Elves were the only two peoples of record living in Dimension Fifteen, one of the thousands of universes that made up the System.

Anyway, only a handful of the Men thought that the queen was simply lost and unable to find her way back, and an even fewer number of them were of the belief that the Elves had nothing to do with her disappearance. Despite all formal requests to them, the Elves not only denied any responsibility, but also declared themselves outraged at such insinuation. As a result of this exchange of accusations, the feeble attempt Sapiens Universalis was conducting to find a solution to the never-ending conflict was suppressed.

And the queen was never found.

The queen's three children had not yet been informed of the truth and still believed that their mother was lying in her bed, prey to a rare and very long illness. Of the three, only Lethkhjar had begun having doubts about the truth of the story everybody at court was telling them, but he respected his father too much to doubt his word.

Of course, Faewal missed her mother, but she was also at an age when play is the most important thing in the world, and everybody at court was more than happy to find a new game for her all the time. She felt sad only in the evenings, just before going to bed, when she missed the fabulous stories her mother was accustomed to telling to help her children fall asleep.

The little one, Pothwegh, was barely one year old and could not really sense that his mum was missing, especially as he was surrounded by an army of nannies looking after him around the clock.

But let's go back to Faewal, who was still running through the long corridor and soon came to its end. If the corridor was large, bright, clear and smooth as glass, its end was exactly the opposite. Just before it, the floor opened onto a round and regular hole—a rather odd dark brown one—which was, in fact, the access to a narrow and very steep spiral staircase. The first step, as well as all those that followed, was rough and clearly made of an old, ancient and brown wood.

The little girl went down the staircase at breakneck speed—as she always did—and found herself in a dank and dusty environment, so different from the upper level she had been in just a few seconds ago. She slowed down a little, only giving herself a moment for her eyes to adjust to the different light, and then moved straight to a small, ajar door. A narrow ray of light shone from behind it, indicating that somebody was inside the room. Faewal approached the doorway and pushed the wooden door abruptly.

"I have found you, Nimgirith!" she shouted.

A man was standing behind a massive table placed in the middle of the room.

The table was covered with tubes, flasks and phials containing dozens of coloured liquids, gasses and strange objects. Books were spread all over, and one could barely see that there actually was a table underneath them. In fact, one could guess that the table was made of wood only from its legs and could also hypothesise that the wood was very, very old. The table was so enormous that it occupied almost the entire room. What remained of the space around the table was equipped with a seemingly very comfortable, bulky and greenish leather armchair. The walls were covered by bookshelves and there were no windows, the only break in the bookshelves being the doorway.

The room was the Alchemistry Laboratory and it was the kingdom of Sapiens Universalis. But the man standing behind the giant table was not Sapiens Universalis.

"Uncle Algowagh!" the little princess seemed disappointed.

The slam of the door had distracted the man from his job, and the moment he looked in the direction of Faewal, his expression seemed to suggest that the abrupt interruption was not welcomed. He was a small, plump man with brown hair—at least what remained after extensive baldness—and large, white whiskers. His light brown eyes were small and partially hidden behind round, golden framed glasses. "Good morning Faewal," he said.

The little girl was still disappointed at not having found her friend. "I was playing hide-and-seek with Nimgirith—" she started. "What are you doing in here?" She carefully avoided asking him whether he had seen her friend; she still remembered the stern look from the door.

"Oh, nice," responded the man approvingly.

Faewal stared at him.

"I'm," he started clearing his throat, "I'm using the Alchemistry Laboratory with the permission of Sapiens Universalis."

The princess was still waiting there, suggesting that more explanation was due, or at least that is what Algowagh thought.

"It must be kept a secret." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial pitch. "I'm preparing a new game."

The little girl seemed thrilled. "A new game?" she asked excited. "For us, the kids?"

"Of course it is for you!" replied the man. "Who else is so good at playing my games?"

"Oh, please, please, uncle Algowagh, tell me more," she begged.

The man changed the expression on his face. "You know I can't, my dear," he said firmly. "It would not do for you to have an advantage over your friends by knowing about the game before them."

She knew it, of course. And she felt exactly like she had a few minutes ago, when she had been reproached by the Door. But Algowagh was not as strict as the Door.

"The only thing I can tell you is that this game is the best one I have ever created. You will literally love it, and it will last for days." The man bent over her and touched the tip of her nose with his finger. "Don't worry, I have almost finished, and you will play it very, very soon."

Faewal kept silent, curious about what uncle Algowagh just said. In fact Algowagh—Uncle Algowagh as all children used to calling him—was absolutely the best in creating magical games; they lasted for days on end and were so absorbing that children would not stop talking about them, even weeks after they had ended. Faewal knew it was worth waiting a while.

"Well, did you find her?" the man asked suddenly.

Faewal looked at him puzzled. "Find who?" she asked.

"Nimgirith!" he exclaimed.

The little girl seemed to have forgotten the reason why she was running through the palace. She hit her forehead with the open hand. "You're right! Nimgirith," she repeated. "No, I didn't."

"Have you tried in the garden, perhaps? You know the big tree with the white leaves?"

The mischievous light in Faewal's eyes sparkled again. "Mmh . . . the white leaves tree, of course!" she shouted. "Thank you Uncle Algowagh!" and she ran out of the laboratory, confident that she would find her friend exactly where Algowagh had suggested.

The man stared at the doorway, watching Faewal disappear, and then he tightened his fist, clutching something in it. "I've just finished," he mumbled and exited the laboratory.
The green line

The green line divided the classroom walls at approximately two thirds the way up from the floor. The approximate height of the average student in their last year in high school. The lower half was darker, somehow more resistant to the students' presence, but not dark enough to stop it looking, at that precise moment, like it was melting into the upper half. At that same precise moment, two voices were swaying in the air, producing a sort of lullaby that, together with the proximity to noon, made most of the students struggle not to fall asleep.

A brunette teacher in a very old-fashioned pair of glasses was asking routine questions, with very little interest and a very strong sense of duty, to a pimple-faced teenager who had very little sense of duty though he pretended to be very much interested.

From her desk in the third row, Sara was captivated by the hypnotic effect of a fly trapped in a big drop of ink on the notebook she was supposed to be taking notes in. The fly was trying to escape the elastic bubble, just barely managing to drag its wings out, leaving a slimy trail on the white page. Sara could not keep her eyes off the insect, at least while she did manage to keep them open.

She did not really worry about being caught sleeping in school. She knew nobody was looking at her, and even if somebody did, it was absolutely by mistake, as nobody ever looked at her. Intentionally, that is.

Transparent, that is how she felt, and the moment she realised that her presence—or better, her absence— would not have made any difference to anyone else, she was not really surprised. It was as if she had always known it, and she did not find it that disappointing after all. She had always been the kind of person who did not like to stand out; she always avoided putting herself in the position of being thanked or rewarded for something she had done, and she never asked for any acknowledgment of any kind. When that occasionally happened, she felt so embarrassed, that all she wanted was to hide away as quickly as possible. As quickly as a superhero can run. A superhero with a very big mask.

That is probably why Sara always wore trousers, large and of dark colours, and long sleeved shirts, even in summer, with track shoes, preferably as boys' as she could find. If she could, she would have worn gloves to cover the little bit of skin visible on her hands. And of course, a big mask to conceal her face. And she would have flown towards the sun after saving the world . . .

No, she did not want to save the world. She did not see any good reason for that. No real reasons, such as a giant meteorite about to smash into the Earth's surface, or aliens of any shape about to invade the planet, or microscopic bacteria evolving into the most destructive species threatening the human survival—this kind of real reasons.

Nevertheless, the idea of a big mask covering her face was still appealing . . .

The bell rang. Some students were ready with all their books packed up and they were out of the classroom even before the bell had stopped ringing. Others were literally woken by the jarring sound of the bell and started packing their things with the same disinterest they showed in the teachers' questions. The teacher herself seemed relieved at being spared the tedium of asking the next routine question, while the pimple-faced teenager suddenly realised that he had lost his last chance to get the grade he needed to dive back into the safe grade zone.

Sara picked the fly by its ink-covered wings and set it free on the desk before slamming her notebook shut and putting it back into her bag. At least, she had saved an insect from being crushed between giant paper walls.

Superheroes are superheroes, even in the smallest of things.

The bicycle was waiting for Sara outside the school, as usual. Faithful, rusty and not in the position Sara left it in the morning, when she locked it up with an overly long red plastic-wrapped chain to the pole of the no parking sign.

"No parking means no parking," a traffic inspector had once told her. "This is a footpath, don't you see?"

Of course she saw it, even before that idiotic, fat, blue-uniformed man brought it to her attention, but that pole was the only one left to lock her bike to, and she did not want to test people's honesty by simply leaving it leaning against the wall. And that pole was always the only one left, as she was always late, following the closer you live to the school, the later you wake up rule.

But Sara did not care. Not about the bicycle, not about the fat blue man, and not about being late. Nobody would have noticed her anyway and if they did, it would have been by mistake only, and they would quickly forget.

Sara cycled fast—she liked the wind on her face, especially when it was cold and sunny outside, as it was on that winter day. She liked winter. Her bicycle slid through people on the sidewalk, fast and silent despite the rust that had eaten away at it for years, nimble and light like a butterfly, and just as transparent as Sara was.

"I'm home," she shouted, slamming the door of the apartment on the first of the two-storey building where she lived.

"Come. Lunch is ready," her mother replied automatically from the kitchen.

Lunch was quick, microwaved and speechless, at least from Sara's side. Her younger brother grabbed the attention by reporting on every single minute of his school morning. Sara did not really like him; maybe it was because he was so sociable and had countless friends, or maybe because he was so smart and everybody loved him instantly, or simply because she could not forgive him for spoiling all the photographs of her fifteenth birthday party by appearing in all of them on purpose. Anyway, his extensive lunch time reports were very convenient for her, as they left very little time for her mother to ask anything about what Sara had done at school. Not that she had something to hide, but it was kind of depressing to need to report on something that hardly changed from one day to another.

Sara was a good and diligent student. She always got good grades. She never went to school with that feeling of apprehension of not knowing something, or the fear that the teacher would call upon her to say something. She never risked this. She was always on the safe side. In fact, she did not behave this way because she believed in it or was convinced it was an ideal way to behave; she just behaved as she had been told to do a long time ago, and she never questioned whether it was wrong or right.

It was just another way to hide after all—students with bad grades attracted far more attention than those always doing the right things. Nobody expected anything different from the good ones and, as they always had good grades, they became transparent. That's how she became so and also why she was not particularly shocked to find herself to be so. Unsurprisingly, homework was the magic word she always used to justify hiding in her room. Just as she did that day too, after the quick and microwaved lunch.

Sara's room was cosy, like a place that can only be cosy because of all the time one spends in it. She found it cosy, at least, full of things with a special meaning that only she knew about. She collected objects from places she visited, whether it was on holiday, or just a trip with schoolmates or family. Her collection ranged from plant seeds, samples of sand, shells and dried leaves to bottle tops, coloured napkins, restaurant menus and anything that may have caught her attention while exploring the world outside her room.

Conversely, the furniture was completely anonymous, clearly coming from a very commercial shop in one of the anonymous and sterile shopping malls that had sprouted at the edge of the city Sara had lived in since she was born. The only pieces of furniture she truly liked and insisted so much on having were two big mirrors, one secured to the wall and the second on a self-standing wooden frame facing the first. She obtained them by swearing she absolutely needed to see every part of her body in order to improve her style, which also happened to be her mum's secret wish.

In reality, she was fascinated by the endless reflections one can produce by changing the position of two mirrors facing each other; she literally spent hours moving the wooden framed mirror, counting how many reflections she was able to produce in the other one.

But that is not what she did that day, after the quick and microwaved lunch.

That day they all had to go out. All except Sara, so she sat at her desk with some books open, pretending to study, and after her mother popped in to say goodbye, and she had heard the reassuring sound of the apartment door closing, Sara ran to her bed and jumped on it with the precise intention of having a good and undisturbed nap.

"Who killed the Normans?"

Sara opened her eyes in an instant. She was still drowsy from the afternoon nap, but she was sure those words had not been in her dream.

"Who's there?" she called out. Her eyes quickly ran to the door of the room; it was ajar, exactly as her mother had left it when she had said her goodbye . . . how long ago? She looked at the alarm clock on the night table. She had slept for nearly forty minutes. "Who's there?" she repeated lowering the volume of her voice, starting to doubt her own perceptions.

The only sound she could hear was the noise of cars in the next street.

And the tick of the alarm clock.

And the accelerated beat of her heart.

Have you ever had the feeling of being half-asleep—or perhaps half-awake—and your body and mind being separated, though you know they are still attached, and then being abruptly awoken by something around you? That's exactly how Sara felt when she heard those words.

If this has ever happened to you, you will understand the state Sara was in and also why she could not liquidate what happened as being just a dream.

A male voice had spoken those words, and he had not spoken them very loudly so he should have been very near to her. But obviously nobody else was in the room, and nobody had moved the door by entering or exiting, the window was clearly closed, so there was no way someone could have said those words there and disappeared.

No one technically human, at least.

But apart from the purely physical aspect of the story, what could have been the reason for waking somebody up by asking such nonsense and, on top of that, disappearing without waiting for the answer? Provided that such an answer could exist.

The noise of the key in the main door lock.

"We are back," her mother squeaked from the entrance.

Sara jumped out of the bed like a spring, covering the traces of her nap, and ran to the chair at her desk. She picked a marker from the case and sat with her head on one hand.

"Is everything ok in here?" her mother popped in after a while. Her mother always popped in, spending not more than few seconds needed to ask the ritual is everything ok question, expecting nothing more than a yes as answer.

"Yes," Sara replied without bothering to turn her head. "Everything is fine."

By the time she said fine, her mother was already gone.

How could she not feel transparent?
Don't panic

Don't panic were the only words running through her head as Sara walked towards the figure at the end of the corridor.

When she heard knocking at the classroom door the following day, Sara was still very confused about what had really happened less than twenty-four hours before in her room.

The maths teacher did not hide his irritation about being interrupted during his fundamental explanation of something of which, unfortunately, he was the only who had a deep understanding. "Come in," he called.

Dwain, the school-keeper, perennially on the edge of a never arriving retirement, entered the room, clad in his faded ultramarine overalls, and looking bored as usual, but secretly happy to bother the pretentious maths teacher nobody in the school liked. He coughed intentionally, ensuring he caught everybody's attention. "Sara Colombo," he pronounced slowly. "Your uncle is waiting for you outside here."

Her name being spoken awoke Sara from the fogginess she was in. She looked at the school-keeper and then back to the teacher, waiting for his formal permission, which he gave with a sort of superior and royal-like sign of his head. She then joined Dwain, who was waiting for her with a hand on the door handle, and displaying a pretty serious escorting attitude.

Once out of the classroom, Sara could not figure out why her uncle, who lived abroad and whom she barely saw twice in a decade, was in her school and wanted to talk with her. The simplest answer was that Dwain, as usual, had misunderstood something—very often the only important piece of information he was supposed to retain.

But while approaching the figure at the end of the corridor, the don't panic mantra started to form in her head. That figure was not the one of her uncle—of that she was sure—and the panicking effect was due to the weird feeling that that figure was instead the one of the man who spoken those words the day before. How she recognised the man, without ever have seen him previously, was the weird aspect of the feeling.

"Good morning Sara."

Same voice, she was sure. Her first reaction was to run. Fast. But something stopped her from doing so—something too complicated to define.

Dwain was still absent-mindedly looking at them from the other end of the corridor. A classroom door was open, and she could hear somebody speaking about French literature of the fifteenth or sixteenth century. The sun was shining bright in a limpid blue sky outside the big windows of the school, and the atmosphere could not have been more reassuring and relaxed.

Despite the absurdity of facing a man who she did recognise without having seen before, a man who had entered her room against all physical laws and had told her rubbish about an extinct population, she realised that she did not want to follow her first instinct and run away.

The man was staring at her with a very peaceful expression on his round face, framed by thin brown hair and large, white whiskers. His eyes were light brown, like little hazelnuts, behind round and golden glasses. He was weirdly dressed in a dark leather waistcoat with red embroidery in indecipherable signs that could have easily been letters of an ancient alphabet as well as psychedelic symbols coming from the mind of a hippy. His trousers were clownishly large and tight around his ankles and he was wearing pointed suede shoes more similar to slippers than anything else. It was probably because of the lack of seriousness in the man's attire that she definitely dropped the panic and started being intrigued.

The man waited patiently, as if he was aware of the succession of feelings Sara had been exposed to. He kept smiling and slowly moved his gaze from Sara to look around. Sara followed his eyes that had stopped on an open door, leading to an empty classroom. The man moved his gaze back on her. "Would you mind talking?" he suggested.

Sara looked at him hesitantly.

"I won't bite you, I swear," he tried to downplay the situation.

"Um," Sara nodded, with the very clear feeling that she would regret it.

"Good!" he encouraged her with a gesture. "Let's go in there."

Once inside the empty room, the man pulled the door to close it, but Sara stopped him with a concerned look. "Ok, let's leave it open, no worries," he said. The man let go of the handle and walked towards the first row of desks. He sat on one of them and looked at Sara, still smiling. "So, why don't we start politely?" he said. "My name is Algowagh."

Sara looked at him puzzled. "Alog . . . Algoua," she tried to repeat slowly, while sitting stiffly on the teacher's desk, just in front of the man. She made sure she was clearly visible through the open door, just in case. "What kind of name is it? Russian?"

"Not exactly. Al-go-wa-gh. Accent on the first a. I'm from Dimension Fifteen," he said casually.

She took some seconds to process the man's words and tried to grasp the meaning. "Never heard of a country with such a name. So you're not Russian, neither from that area I suppose."

The meaning of what he said was still a million miles away from her. Sara gazed at him, clearly waiting for more details.

"I'm from a country that you don't know."

She was quite good in Geography and did not like being fooled. "I'm pretty sure I know all the countries and I don't remember one called Dimension Fifteen."

"That's because it is not a country. Strictly speaking."

"So, tell me then, where are you from? Strictly speaking."

"I told you. Dimension Fifteen."

"That is not a country."

"Strictly not."His peaceful smile was not so peaceful any more.

"So, what is it, strictly?" she asked.

"A dimension."

"You said that already; a dimension. And you also said it's the fifteenth, right? Because they are numbered, these dimensions, I assume."

"Yes, they are."

"Fine. So now, what do you mean by dimension? Strictly. . ."

Algowagh's smile was not a smile any more. Despite her appearance, that girl seemed tougher than he expected. As was his task. "A dimension is," he searched for the best term, "a world!"

Sara pondered on his words. What was it? A joke? Science fiction? "Are you from World fifteen?" she spoke slowly, ironically. "Planet fifteen?"

"Well yes, you can call it planet to make it plain."He showed some satisfaction—they were on the right track.

Sara, on the other hand, did not expect such an affirmative answer to her irony, and that left her speechless. Of course she had a vivid imagination and yes, she enjoyed science fiction both in books and movies, but there was a difference between reading or watching a movie and being there, in an empty classroom, face to face with an alien. Because he was an alien, right? He was from another planet, so he was—strictly speaking—an alien.

Algowagh tried to take advantage of that small progress and pushed a little farther. "Have you ever heard about parallel universes, Sara?"

Yes, she had. In science fiction books, indeed. She nodded passively.

"Good! Parallel universes were theorised by your scientists, right?"

"I don't know about scientists," Sara replied lifting an eyebrow. "Writers for sure."

Algowagh did not seem to appreciate the comment. "Believe me," he did not want to lose too much time, "they did. But the weak point is that they don't have a clue about how to prove parallel universes actually exist. And do you know why?"

What an idiotic question. If scientists had no clue about that, how could she? "Of course I don't," Sara replied.

"That's because they never looked for evidence of passages between dimensions!"

"U-uh," Sara did not hide her scepticism. "And you have evidence, do you?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Am I or am I not here? Anyway, moving physically from one dimension to another is not the only way for two worlds to communicate. There is also a non-physical way. A way that doesn't involve moving—"

"Sure! Our scientists call it telepathy. And yours?"She was not sure whether she was starting to take it seriously or whether she was still sceptical. Everything seemed so absurd that it started to make sense.

"Well, yes, you can call it like that if you prefer. It's not incorrect," he conceded. "Anyway, not everyone can contact other dimensions just by following a method or a simple procedure. One must have a special gift . . . what's the word? One must be—"

"Telepathic?" Sara suggested.

"Sort of—Radiomind! That's the technical term," Algowagh concluded, satisfied upon remembering the word.

"Are we speaking about radios?"

"No, not really. Radios work on the same principle, but we are not speaking about any technical device here. To be a radiomind is an inborn gift for some beings in each dimension. Usually it is a characteristic they must improve through training. Beings like you. . ."

Beings?

". . .have the ability to get in contact passively, by receiving messages, but they cannot initiate a contact, both because they are not yet conscious of their gift, and also because they never received appropriate training or guidance." Algowagh was now so involved in his explanation that Sara finally dropped her scepticism and started absorbing his words. "The point here is not how conscious you are about your gift, but the fact that in a particular moment, in a specific phase of your sleeping cycle, you received a very precise message. . ."

Who killed the Normans . . .

". . .that I sent you," Algowagh's voice became mysterious. "And I did so because you are the being I need to accomplish a life or death mission."

Being?

"Look," Sara reacted, encouraged by the knowledge she was somehow important. "First of all stop calling me a being. It makes me feel like a plant. Start calling me a person. That's how we call persons in this dimension and I am pretty traditionalist. Second, what are you exactly? An alien?"

"Um, alien is not exactly the word I would use—"

"Do you or do you not come from another planet?"

"I . . . I do, yes."

"So you are an alien."

"Ok, if it makes you happy—"

"I hadn't finish!" she was resolved to dot the I's and cross the t's. "Third, I have a special gift, right?"

"Yes. You have the ability to get in contact with dimensions other than yours."

"So, I have a special gift and you need me for this."

"No. You have a special gift that allowed me to contact you," clarified Algowagh.

Oops, she was lost again.

"Never mind," she curtailed. "You contacted me thanks to my special gift, and you have a life or death mission to accomplish, right?"

"Right."

"And what do I have to do with your life or death mission?"

"You know something," he said.

She was special again, hurray!

Sara looked intensely into Algowagh's eyes through the round lens of his glasses, with the strange feeling that she had just missed something.

"And just what is it that I know?"
It was almost noon

It was almost noon of a bright and sunny day, but a careful look at the foliage was enough to make one realise how strongly the wind was blowing. A pigeon flew by outside the classroom window, and its shadow crossed the greenish formica floor. The bird stopped on the window sill and started eating the crumbs somebody had left there.

"Have you heard of the Normans, Sara?" Algowagh asked, looking at the bird outside the window.

Not only had she heard of them, but she also was so fascinated by their history that she collected books about them. Her first thought was that such a question was a funny coincidence, but considering what had happened in the previous twenty-four hours, Sara was inclined to believe that coincidence was not the right word to use."Yes, I heard about them," she confirmed. "What do the Normans have to do with planets?"

"Normans are just a part of the problem," Algowagh replied. "This story is much more complex. Let me explain it as simply as I can."He jumped down from the desk, passed the teacher's desk Sara was on, and headed towards the blackboard.

Sara turned around to face the man, ready to listen to what he was going to say. Algowagh took the duster and cleaned a large portion in the middle of the blackboard, wiping away chemical formulas, then picked up a piece of chalk from the case hanging at the bottom right-hand corner of the frame and drew some vertical, parallel lines."Do you remember parallel universes, Sara?" he asked.

"The ones our scientists have no clue how to move through?" she asked sarcastically.

"Those ones, yes. Now, imagine these lines are parallel universes and that here," he continued, pointing the chalk to the top of the lines, just before they started, "is the Big Bang from which they originated."

"Our scientists theorised that the Big Bang originated the universe," she pointed out.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," he said slowly. "Just use maths and multiply your universe several times."

"How many times?" she challenged.

"That's not the point!" He started to lose his temper. "Just listen to me and trust me. You are not at the necessary evolutionary level to know it!"

Done. He had made the stupid mistake. He had officially breached the First Law of the System. Officially and in the presence of a witness.

The First Law of the System stated that no being belonging to Dimension A can reveal concepts to a being belonging to Dimension B, which is at a lower evolutionary level than Dimension A, letting the being know those concepts in a way other than through the natural and autonomous discovery process proper to its own dimension.

Breaching Laws could have catastrophic consequences—of that he was perfectly aware—and that was why Sapiens Universalis protected him with a powerful spell. But the spell was supposed to avoid consequences of Algowagh breaching the First and, incidentally, the Second Law of the System, or at worst to contain the damage. The spell did not consider having a witness because Algowagh was supposed to have no witnesses. By saying what he had just said, Algowagh had made Sara a witness to his breaching the First Law. He could probably argue that she was not a cognisant witness as she did not have a clue what the First Law was, but did it make the breach any less serious if she was not a cognisant witness? Would it bring fewer consequences? Or could he dare to hope it would bring no consequences at all? The situation was already so complicated and compromised. Perhaps it was already so compromised that having a witness did not make any difference. In any case, better not to mention that to Sapiens Universalis. Not unless it was really, really necessary.

"Anyway," he thought out loud, "it's done now. . ."

Sara was staring at him. What was this evolutionary level business now?

"So, are we clear on parallel universes?" he asked, drawing her attention back to the lines on the blackboard.

"I'm listening to you," she replied sceptically. "And I trust you."

"Good girl. So, now imagine that something else happened here," he continued, pointing the chalk at the bottom, where the lines ended.

"Another Big Bang?"

"No, Big Bang is unique. This is something different, something called the Supreme Conjuncture."

"What's that?"

"It is a key temporal event that happened simultaneously in all universes and influenced their behaviour which would never be the same as before."

Sara was still frowning at him.

"It means that from this point on, universes changed their courses. They stopped being parallel, and diverted. Forever."He continued his drawing by adding a segment where each line ended, and created an angle so that the second part of the lines diverted rightward or leftward, without crossing another line."The Supreme Conjuncture has no positive or negative connotation in itself. It's just part of the life of the System—"

"Which System?"

"The System," he realised he had taken too much for granted. "The System is . . . more or less . . . what you see on the blackboard. It's the ensemble of dimensions."

"Of universes."

"Of universes," he conceded. "Although you should really start calling them dimensions."

"Aren't they universes?"

"Yes and no. Technically you can call them universes, but semantically—"

"Semantically?" she squeaked. "You are bombarding me with all sorts of notion that, incidentally, I'm not at the necessary evolutionary level to know about, and yet you want to discuss semantics?"

She may be considered a cognisant witness after all, he was afraid. "Ok, ok. Call them universes and let's move on. We don't have all the time in the world, you know?"

"So now it's also a question of time?"

Things were getting tangled. Algowagh breathed in slowly to regain his concentration. "The problem is that this is," he resumed pointing his chalk where lines deviated, "the weakest point of the System, the most delicate one, and unfortunately it is also where the Spatial-Temporal Abyss originated."

Spatial-Temporal Abyss did not really sound like a positive thing.

"Now, before giving you more details about it, let me take a step back and elaborate a little on Dimensions. Dimensions are not randomly positioned, but do have a precise location with respect to each other, a configuration that must remain unchanged over time. This configuration is called the Four-dimensional Arrangement and it was defined at the very beginning, when everything started with the Big Bang."Algowagh picked another piece of chalk from the case—a purple one—and started to colour the space between lines. "Imagine that Dimensions are immersed in something," he paused for several seconds. "This something is called the Big Empty."

Big Empty did not sound very friendly either.

"As for Dimensions, the Big Empty has a very precise position too, its own unaltered Four-dimensional Arrangement."

Sara nodded.

Algowagh was quite surprised and encouraged. He continued. "Let's add little more. I am here but I don't belong to this Dimension, right?" he asked.

"That's what you said. You are from Dimension seventeen—"

"Fifteen."

"Fifteen."

"And I moved from my Dimension to yours, right?"

"Yes, to mine. That is?"

"That is what?"

"Which number is my Dimension?"

"It's not relevant now."

"It is! I want to know. Which number is? Twenty? Thirty?"

"FourHundredSeventyThree."

"Ah."

Three digits did not look like a very prominent position.

"So, I moved from Dimension Fifteen to FourHundredSeventyThree. How did I do it?"

"With a rocket?"

Algowagh rolled his eyes. "I used a Betwixt Door," he said slowly and clearly. "Of the Z type, to be precise."

"A door?" she looked puzzled. "Are you saying you can wake up one day, just open a door and find yourself on another planet?"

Go and tell it to the crew of the USS Enterprise!

"Not really. Let me be more precise. Imagine you are here and want to go there," Algowagh pointed the chalk on one line and then moved it to reach the neighbouring one. "What's in between?" he scribbled again in the space between the two lines.

"The empty thing," she answered.

"The Big Empty. So if you would move from here to there," he moved the chalk back and forth again, "you would fall into the Big Empty!"In the excitement of his explanation, Algowagh pressed the chalk so hard that it broke, and one piece fell on the floor. This gave a dramatic touch to his words, and Sara started to look suspiciously at the purple space between the lines. "To be sure not to fall down, you need a bridge between Dimensions," with the bit of chalk remaining in his hand Algowagh drew a little arch connecting the two lines.

Sara stared at him sceptically.

"Such bridges between Dimensions are called Betwixt Doors. Doors between two Dimensions. Is that clear?"

"Who makes those doors?" Sara asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Who builds those bridges between Dimensions?"

"Nobody builds them. They are an integral part of the System. They are simply there, just as Dimensions, planets and stars are."

"So, we know stars, planet and all this stuff, but we have never heard of these doors. How come that we have never heard of them, us beings from Dimensions OneThousandSomething?"

Algowagh raised an eyebrow.

"Ok, ok," Sara stopped him before he could add a word. "Understood."

"Now, Betwixt Doors have a typical feature. They are not fixed in space," he continued.

"What do you mean?"

Algowagh picked a new piece of chalk from the case. "I used a Door that opened here in my Dimension and here in yours," he indicated the initial and the final points of the arch that he had just drawn. "But after a short while the Door closes and opens again in another position."He erased the arch with a finger and drew a new one in a lower position, between the same two lines.

Sara furrowed her brow. "How do you know where Doors are if they continuously change their position?" she asked.

"I can calculate their future position," he replied as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She did not agree on the obviousness of the answer of course, but decided to give herself a break from the disproportionate amount of information that Algowagh was providing her.

"Just to conclude on Betwixt Doors, let me add that they can be crossed in both directions," the man continued.

"Do you mean that I could come to your Dimension simply by following you when you go back there?"

"Yes, you could."

"This means everyone could move from here to your Dimension through the Door you left open!" she wondered after a quick consideration.

"I didn't leave the Door open. I just told you that Doors even change their position! One of the major features of Betwixt Doors is that they don't allow Dimensions to merge. That would be a disaster!" Algowagh sighed.

Sara pondered on his words. "So, you passed through a Betwixt Door," she resumed after some seconds of silence.

"I did," he confirmed. "I passed through a Z type Betwixt Door."

"Yes, you mentioned this. What's a Z type?"

"A Z type Betwixt Door is the slowest type of Door in changing its position. It takes approximately 30 seconds for it to open and close."

"So slow? Unbelievable!" she said mockingly. "And what about the quickest? One second?"

"One nanosecond," Algowagh corrected impassively. "It's the S type."

"S like speedy, I guess?"

"S type Betwixt Doors are very rare," Algowagh ignored Sara's last comment, "and not used frequently. Just in case one cannot do otherwise."

Sara breathed in slowly. All those explanations were exhausting her, but she also felt that she was getting the idea. About Betwixt Doors at least. What the Normans had to do with doors was still a mystery.

"There are other passages between Dimensions apart from Betwixt Doors," Algowagh started again.

Hadn't he finished yet?

"And now we are getting to the point," his tone became more serious.

Sara moved a little to find a more comfortable position on the teacher's desk, as her left leg was almost numb.

"There are Unidirectional Tunnels too," he announced with a gravelly voice.

Sara's attention increased immediately and she forgot her tiring struggle to understand Doors.

"A Unidirectional Tunnel is a passage between two dimensions, exactly like a Betwixt Door, except that it is fixed. It doesn't close and open after a while in another position and, most importantly, it can be crossed in one direction only," Algowagh explained.

"And?" Sara pressed him.

"And they are extremely rare and very well hidden to avoid any incidents among Dimensions. For example in your Dimension there is a Unidirectional Tunnel in the area you refer to as the Bermuda triangle."

"The Bermuda triangle? Are you kidding me? So this is why planes and boats disappear there; there's a Unidirectional Tunnel!"Now she was really excited—she had solved the mystery of the Bermuda triangle. Ok, she had solved it with a little help...

"Exactly. They disappear from this Dimension and appear in another one, but cannot come back because the Unidirectional Tunnel allows crossing in one direction only. Now that you have an idea of passages between Dimensions, let's go back to our System." Algowagh pointed his chalk back to the Supreme Conjuncture. "As I said before, this is the weakest point and also where the Spatial-Temporal Abyss originated."

Right, the Abyss . . .

"And the Spatial-Temporal Abyss is nothing more than a Bidirectional Tunnel," he raised his voice emphasising the second-last word.

Sara stared at him blankly; she evidently did not grasp how serious the situation was.

"Do you understand? Bidirectional," he insisted.

"Yes, I understood, I'm not idiot! Bidirectional. So one can go through it in both directions!"

"And it's a fixed passage here," he hit the blackboard three times with the chalk, "which is the weakest point, allowing the passage—"

"Between two Dimensions," Sara concluded with a conceited expression on her face.

"No! Not between two Dimensions!"

No?

"Between everything existing in this area!" Algowagh almost screamed, while circling the area of the Supreme Conjuncture and crossing all the lines.

Sara stared at the blackboard. She started to realise now. It was the narrowest point of Algowagh's drawing, and with his circle the man touched all lines. It meant that the Spatial-Temporal Abyss affected all Dimensions, and therefore allowed them all to get in contact with each other. Everybody mixing with everybody, aliens from all planets of all universes meeting in the Bidirectional Tunnel like in the Underground during rush hour.

Algowagh looked at her as if asking do you understand now?

"My goodness!" she exclaimed. "A messy crowd. . ."

Algowagh seemed hopelessly dejected. He signed out loud. "At this point, not only are all Dimensions in permanent contact with each other," he started again, agitated, "but the Spatial-Temporal Abyss allows the Big Empty too to contact them!"

"The Big Empty," Sara repeated slowly.

"Yes! And, unfortunately, the Big Empty is already interfering with some Dimensions by destroying them at a rate that increases exponentially, every minute."

Sara grew scared. She finally grasped the severity of the situation. "Do you mean Dimensions are disappearing?" she asked.

"Exactly! Sure, not overnight, but they are disappearing in a very peculiar way." Algowagh cast a quick and worried look at something he was wearing on his right wrist, where one normally wears a watch, but it did not look at all like a watch.

The school bell rang. Sara started. She heard the buzzing of students packing up their things, moving chairs and teachers trying to keep control over unruly teenagers by screaming out last minute instructions and homework, and then she saw people hurrying into the corridor, first scattered, then increasingly similar to a real, noisy, human river.

"Sara?" a girl appeared at the classroom door. "Did you get lost?"

"Laura!" Sara started at the sight of her classmate. How could she explain Algowagh's presence to Laura? Or his clownish outfit? Not to mention the drawing on the blackboard . . .

"What are you doing here?" Laura continued after a quick glance at the blackboard. "Chemistry recap?"

"What? Chemistry?" Sara quickly jumped off the teacher's desk and looked about the classroom in search of Algowagh. But Algowagh had disappeared. And so had his drawing on the blackboard, while all the chemical formulas he had erased had magically returned.

"Ch-chemistry—of course! You know," Sara stammered, barely audible, "you know, there's a test tomorrow."

Laura looked at her friend with a worried expression. "What the hell are you saying, Sara? There's no chemistry lesson tomorrow. Look, I have to rush or I'll miss my bus. Let's talk over the phone later, ok? I packed your schoolbag. It's on your desk. Say thank you, Laura, you're my best friend. Ciao."Without waiting for Sara's reaction, Laura merged into the noisy, human river of the corridor.

Sara stared at the blackboard for a few seconds, then turned on her toes to examine the classroom, and eventually kneeled down to check between the legs of the desks. Algowagh seemed to have thoroughly vanished.

So, where was the Betwixt Door? Or the Unidirectional Tunnel? She shivered. Or the Big Empty?

Sara sighed out loud. Now she could feel the beginning of a headache pulsing on her temples.
No more signs

No more signs for the next three days. After Algowagh's complicated explanation about parallel dimensions and his sudden disappearance, Sara had had no signs from him at all—no messages while she was sleeping and no more uncle's visits at school or anywhere else. This time she was a little bit more persuaded that listening to him in front of a blackboard filled with universes' secrets had actually happened. Laura could have witnessed it. Or better, she could have witnessed Sara sitting in an empty room looking at a blackboard, but she could not have witnessed neither Algowagh's drawing, nor him in person. So, Laura was not a good example. The entire class could have witnessed Dwain calling her name because her uncle asked to see her. But of course, the entire class did not actually see her uncle. So the entire class was not a good example either. Dwain! Of course, Dwain had seen her uncle! Pity that Dwain had been absent since then and it would have sounded weird to ask for his phone number for some questions like did you see my uncle? or worse what did my uncle look like? No, she could only accidentally mention her uncle in front of Dwain to test his reaction—assuming that he was able to have any kind of reaction—and anyway not before Dwain was back to work. Only she herself was left as a witness and that, she was afraid, had to be enough.

Those were Sara's thoughts while she was cycling back home on her rusty and faithful bike. Another boring school day had just finished, with another good grade to keep her on the safe, unnoticeable side.

There was an exceptionally good weather that winter. The sky was so often clear blue that one could easily forget to wear a coat before going out of the warm and sleepy apartment in the mornings. The weather forecast people were actually saying that that year was something more than exceptional and none of the usual climatic exceptions such el Niño were enough to justify such meteorological behaviour. Everyone agreed that climate was definitely changing and the world was not the same any more. And they could not be more right.

"I'm back," Sara yelled to cover the noise of the heavy apartment door slamming.

"Wash your hands and come quickly. We have started already," her mother responded from the kitchen. "You've got mail."

Mail?

She looked at the black antique desk in the entrance where mail was generally left, together with all sorts of things that could not find a place in the apartment or that somebody was simply too lazy to put in the right place. Mail was normally for her mother, as it meant bills. There was no other kind of mail except for some letters from Aunt Genie. Sara's mind went to her aunt playing rummy with her octogenarian friends smelling of geranium perfume and laughing like teenagers. Yes, Aunt Genie was the only one who could have written her a letter. Sara took the envelope from the desk but did not recognise Aunt Genie's writing from the address, and more, her aunt always indicated that she was the sender, while that envelope had no sender at all. Anyway, that was not the oddest thing about the envelope. Aunt Genie could have forgotten to write her name—after all she was getting older—but she could not have drawn the stamp! Yes, because the stamp on the envelope was hand-drawn. How could no-one have noticed this?

Sara stopped walking towards her room with the weird feeling that that letter had not come from any place on Earth. Were there also betwixt mail boxes?

"Sara, are you coming?" her mother squeaked.

Fine. It was not the right time. She hurried to her room, left her bag on the bed and let the letter fall on it. After a last, hesitant glance at the envelope, she let her rumbling stomach help her to make a decision—half an hour would not have made any difference in the course of history. Would it?

"So, what are your plans for the afternoon?" her mother asked.

"Homework," Sara replied automatically, chomping a piece of bread.

"Homework?" her brother echoed wondering. "It's Friday!"

Oops, wrong answer. She was thinking too much about the letter to pay attention to her family conversation. "Well no, I mean, yes, I thought I could start doing something today and have more free time later. I have, hmm . . . I have a lot to do this weekend."

"Are you going out with friends?" her mother asked hopefully.

"No, I mean a lot of homework to do."

Her mother had seriously started to worry about Sara's sociality. Her daughter had practically no friends, except for Laura, whom she did not like and therefore did not count as a friend. Not to mention boyfriends or at least something near that concept.

"I'm going ice-skating with Luke and Philip," claimed Sara's brother, distracting the attention of their mother and Sara silently thanked God for that.

"Good!" the mother approved. "It sounds good. Why don't we go shopping, Sara?"

Oh no, not again!

"Thanks Mum, but I don't need any new clothes," she replied as kindly as possible, knowing that it would not be the end of that conversation.

"Of course you do. You only need to get rid of some old ones, like... like that horrible pullover you have on," she pointed her finger at Sara's chest with a slightly disgusted expression.

Sara looked down at what she was wearing. It was the second or third, or fourth-hand black oversize pullover with a red horizontal stripe she had bought at the flea marked two years ago. She was not going to get rid of it! "This is not old, Mum," she replied. "It's only two years old."

"Two, plus another ten belonging to God-knows-which homeless in this town," her mother insisted. "And in any case it doesn't fit you."

That conversation had to come to an end. Immediately.

"Look Mum, I really have no intention of going out this afternoon and I really have a lot of homework," she tried to speak calmly and in a polite manner. "Why don't we plan it another day?" She said it as if she had such a busy schedule and with such a serious expression, that her mother could not do anything else but give up. They both knew the conversation could last for hours and be pointless, like many other pointless meal time conversations they had already had.

The letter was exactly where she had left it, on the bag upon the bed. Sara took it and slowly walked towards the swivel chair at her desk, cluttered with books, pens and coloured post-it notes all over. She sat down and slipped a pencil into the corner of the envelope to tear the paper and open it, but suddenly, she stopped halfway and turned it to examine the stamp. However extremely well done, it was clearly a drawing and its subject was definitely unusual—not a well-known monument or an historical figure as was often the case for stamps. The stamp depicted a tall and narrow ivory tower whose base was immersed in a layer of thick fog hiding the ground on which the tower was standing. The sky was not blue as one may had expected a sky on a stamp to be, but of a milky colour streaked with gold. Light was diffused so that it was impossible to tell what its source was. In the bottom left-hand corner there was a very unclear writing. Sara focused so much her attention trying to read it, that she did not notice the envelope was vanishing in her hands. She almost managed. . . Fj . . . something . . . and then ur or us . . . It was so confusing, as if . . . as if it was fading! Then, the envelope became impalpable. Sara saw her fingers through it and a second later she was holding nothing else than air in her hands. Disappeared. And she did not manage to read the writing!

"Hey!"

Algowagh! That was Algowagh's voice!

"Algowagh, where are you?" Sara asked pivoting on the chair.

"I'm here."

She looked around. "Here where? I can't see you."

"Here. In the mirror!"

Algowagh in Wonderland?

Sara stood up and headed towards the facing mirrors set. Unusually, they were not reflecting each other, and it was true, Algowagh was actually in the one hanging on the wall."What are you doing in there?"

"Help me! Give me a hand!" Algowagh said brusquely.

"Give you a hand? Through the mirror?" she asked sceptically.

"Give me your hand! Quick!" he urged. "The Door is closing!"

"The Door? So this is a—"

"Help me!" he cut her short, while his image was fading into Sara's reflection.

She moved her hand towards the mirror and, the moment she expected to touch the surface, she actually entered the mirror with her whole forearm. But she did not have much time to wonder, because Algowagh grasped her hand and pulled so strongly that she had to plant her feet firmly on the ground not to move and follow him inside the mirror. Sara pulled hard until she felt Algowagh was finally moving in her direction. Then, all of a sudden Algowagh jumped out of the mirror, as if he had been pushed from the inside, and fell heavily on Sara.

"Thanks!" he hurried to stand up. "And sorry if I hurt you."

"Never mind," she dismissed, standing up too and putting on a stern expression. "I was worried, you know? After all that you've told me, not hearing from you for three entire days made me think that horrible things that could have happened to you!"

"Right. I didn't explain you this," he reacted as a way of excusing himself. "Time has different speeds in the various Dimensions."

Sara stared at him.

"In your Dimension only a few days have passed," he continued.

"Three," she clarified.

"Right, three, but for me it was just a question of hours. I knew the Betwixt Door was about to open when I was speaking about parallel dimensions and, for a reason that is too complicated to explain to you now, I had to enter that Door and leave your Dimension. Then of course I found another passage to come back here and, believe me, I did my best to be quick."

Sara was still looking at him puzzled.

"I know it's not easy to understand, but try to imagine that in some Dimensions time is like in slow motion while in others it's accelerated."

Sara seemed to ponder on his words. "Is it like the story of the twins, one going in the outer space with an ultrafast rocket and one remaining on Earth, and when they finally met, they were not the same age any more?" she asked.

"I don't know this story, but time speed depends on various factors, included the Dimension's evolutionary level, and the formula to calculate it is a little too complicated to explain right now."

"Of course," she smiled while walking towards the bed. "And I guess we don't have the time right now. . ."

"Exactly," he replied with a too worried expression on his face for Sara's taste. "Unfortunately we really don't have the time now."

Sara sat on the bed considering what he just said. "Ok, so let's conclude this explanation!" she exhorted him, trying to chase away the worrying feeling Algowagh's words had given her.

"Definitely! Now tell me, have you understood everything I have told you so far?" he asked.

Sara thought about the question. She really did! Parallel dimensions, doors, tunnels, Supreme Conjuncture—everything was incredibly clear. The problem was with the Normans, Algowagh's mission and, most importantly, her role in all of that. But this was about to come, she was sure about that, so she nodded.

"Very good," he congratulated more himself on having been so clear, rather than Sara on understanding. With an ample gesture he passed his hand over the mirror he had come out just some minutes before. His drawing about parallel dimensions appeared on the surface that had stopped reflecting and had become totally black.

"How . . . how did you do that?" asked Sara completely fascinated.

"Don't ask or we will never come to an end," Algowagh tried to escape.

"Please . . . only one minute," she begged.

"You say it's only one minute," he replied with a superior expression.

"Please," Sara batted her eyelashes at him.

"Alright," he capitulated. "But I will say it only once. If you don't get it, don't ask questions. I won't answer."

Sara moved a little to find a better position on the bed and paid full attention to Algowagh on that interesting subject.

"You call it magic," he started, "and we actually use the same word but the meaning we give it is completely different from yours."

Sara was all ears.

"Magic for you is the power to use supernatural forces to make impossible things happen, while for us it's just a scientific tool that makes our daily life easier."

Sara felt quite cheated by Algowagh's words.

"Now, for example, I needed a blackboard for my drawing and there is none in your room—"

"I could have lent you a pen and a piece of paper if you'd have only asked," she interrupted sarcastically.

"Of course I could have asked, but then I would have lost precious time in drawing again what I drew already. Precious time that we are losing otherwise by the way."

Sara took the hint. "Fine, I've got it. But promise that you will explain this thing about magic as soon as we have time."

"Don't worry. We'll have thousands of opportunities to speak about it and to experiment it too," Algowagh winked, happy to come to the end of that change of plan. "Can we go back to our main subject now?"

Sara nodded.

"So, the most important point of all is what we called the Supreme Conjuncture," he pointed at the area he was speaking about with a finger, "which is where the Spatial-Temporal Abyss originated and where the Big Empty gets in contact with all existing Dimensions of the System, interfering with their history."

"Yes," she confirmed seriously.

"Now, what you have to know is that Dimensions' history was more or less the same as far as they were parallel."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that life evolved more or less in the same way in all Dimensions. First there were simple organisms that then became more and more complex, life was first in water and it later conquered dry land, vertebrates followed invertebrates and so on with everything you learn in school."

Easy up to here, Sara thought.

"And so we come to humans, as you call them. This is a life form that can be found in all Dimensions, first as cavemen then more and more developed." Algowagh looked at Sara who seemed to have no doubts or questions. "Humans' history developed more or less the same in all Dimensions, very similar to your Dimensions' and to what you've learned at school. Until this point," he raised his voice and pointed the Supreme Conjuncture area with his finger.

"Until the Spatial-Temporal Abyss," she murmured.

"Until this point, where the Spatial-Temporal Abyss hadn't originated yet, but which was simply the point where Dimensions started to diverge," he corrected. "A simple point that developed inside the whole System and only later happened to be the weakest one. A point that, due to its delicate structure, allowed an ordinary Unidirectional Tunnel, existing there between two Dimensions, to wrongly evolve into the Spatial-Temporal Abyss, which is in fact an aberration in the System. And that is the source of all our problems now."

"Are you saying that the Spatial-Temporal Abyss is a sort of genetic mutation of a Unidirectional Tunnel?" hazarded Sara.

"Exactly, good definition!" approved Algowagh. "Now, coming back to Dimensions' history, let's imagine that the Supreme Conjuncture area corresponds to the Normans' period."

The Normans, finally!

"As I have already explained, the Big Empty is getting in contact with all Dimensions and because it is doing so in the Supreme Conjuncture area that corresponds to the Normans' period, it is interfering with Dimensions by erasing their history, and more precisely the Normans' one."

"What do you mean by erasing?"

"Erasing, deleting, cancelling. As if Normans never existed. Nobody remembers them, nobody knows who they are any more, nobody has memories about them at all."

"Nobody remembers? But there are books about Normans, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are," Algowagh admitted. "Normally. . ."

"Normally?"

"Yes, normally you can find history books, but the problem is that Normans' history is vanishing from books too."

"Vanishing from books? What is it? A very selective mouse eating pages about Normans in history books?" Sara mocked.

"I wish it was a mouse! At least we could find a way to solve it with some traps or poison," Algowagh answered sighing.

Seeing a being from a more evolutionary advanced Dimension so disconsolate was definitely not reassuring for Sara. "Ok, it's not a mouse," she resumed. "So, what is it?"

Algowagh sighed again. "We don't know precisely what it is, but we know what it does. It makes history disappear. It literally erases word by word."

"Erases word by word . . . come on!" Sara smiled.

"Seriously! And the worse is that we have no clue of what we should fight."

The word fight made the smile on Sara's face fade immediately.

"And that is actually what we have to find out with our mission," he concluded.

They stared at each other silently. Sara was truly waiting for Algowagh to elaborate on our, while he looked quickly at the non-clock he wore on his right wrist.

"Bye Sara, we are going out," her mother's voice suddenly broke the unreal silence Algowagh's last words had created.

Sara heard the nervous noise of heels tapping on the parquet of the corridor. She gave a very worried glance at Algowagh; her mother did not have to see him for any reason on Earth!

"Sara, did you hear me?" the woman opened the door abruptly. "Sara, are you ok?" her mother looked at Sara surprised; her daughter was tidying up her wardrobe!

"Yes Mum, I heard you," Sara replied, quickly closing one wardrobe door and casting a bunch of clothes on the bed. "Have a nice and fruitful shopping!"

"What are you doing?" her mother asked curious.

"I'm preparing for our shopping day, whenever it will be," Sara grinned from ear to ear. "I'm figuring out what I can really give away to make more room for my new clothes, as you suggested."

Her mother was twisted between smelling a rat and believing in miracles. "Good," she reacted after a while. "We have to schedule our shopping day, then!"

"Sure, I can't wait." Sara nonchalantly picked a brown, long-sleeve shirt from the bunch on the bed and examined it. "Enjoy your afternoon."

"Thanks. You too," her mother replied happily, going out of Sara's room.

When she heard the noise of the heavy apartment door closing, Sara heaved a sigh of relief and immediately opened the wardrobe door.

Empty.

How many Betwixt Doors were there around in her room? She seriously started to get worried that she could accidentally enter one and find herself in another Dimension. She sighed and flopped on the bed, beside her clothes, giving them a disinterested glance. Wait a moment: those were the jeans she had painted herself five or six years before. There was no way she was getting rid of those!
It was four o'clock

It was four o'clock on a Thursday afternoon. Almost one week had passed since Sara last met Algowagh. Everything he had said started to make sense in her mind, but she still had many doubts. First of all, her role in the mission—not to mention the mission itself. But, this time Sara was not worried. Being aware that time had a different speed depending on the Dimension made her feel more relaxed about how long she had to wait before Algowagh reappeared, and more broadly, about all the questions going around her mind and waiting for answers she could not figure out because of her evolutionary level.

She accepted the idea that everything would come in due course. She would have even understood that thing about magic. Actually she was more interested in that topic rather than Algowagh's mission to rescue the System from the Big Empty and the Spatial-Temporal Abyss. Yes, she was much calmer at that point, probably due to the acknowledgment that she was a key figure in the solution of the problem. She did not understand exactly how she might possibly be useful, and that thing about the Normans was not crystal clear yet, and, least of all, the connection between herself and the Normans . . .

Anyway, the week had passed without the whole story of Algowagh and the Normans being her first and last thought of the day. She had found the time to schedule a day to shop with her mother. She knew that she would not have bought more than one or two new items, and she would have done so only to make her mother happy, so she did not need more room than was vacated by the only T-shirt she could bring herself to eliminate from her wardrobe, and in any case she could have squeezed her clothes a little more, she thought.

She had also found the time to read. She started a book that had been gathering dust on a bookshelf for almost a year. It was a fiction novel written by a young author who travelled all over the country to promote it and had ended up in Sara's brother's school. That's where the book was bought and came from to land on the bookshelf. Despite the appealing cover, Sara had never felt the urge to read it until that week when she simply could not take her eyes off its pages. It was a fantasy book, not really her genre, but she had to admit that it was a real page-turner.

That Thursday afternoon, at four o'clock, Sara was sitting on her bed with all the cushions and pillows she could find well arranged behind her back to be as comfortable as possible, reading that book, and instead of the one hour she had planned to dedicate to reading, she spent the whole afternoon glued to it.

Dinner time came in a flash and was very quick too.

"Please excuse me," she began standing up after finishing her bowl of leek soup. "I'm really not feeling well."

"What's wrong?" her mother asked surprised.

"Nothing's wrong, I'm just tired, Mum. I would like to go to sleep if you don't mind," Sara tried to put her best suffering expression on. Of course, she was not really tired; she just could not wait to see what was next in the book. She left the characters right after a change of dimension and she could not stop thinking that they were there, kind of hanging in limbo, just waiting for her to start reading again. She could not leave them now. She had to be there with them. She had to help them.

Help them?

Her suffering expression seemed to work, as her mother looked really worried.

"Sure, go. Do you need something? An aspirin? Hot water bottle?"

"No thanks, I just need to rest, Mum," Sara half-smiled and left the kitchen, feeling her family's eyes on her back.

The slight sense of guilt for lying disappeared as soon as she touched the book. Without losing any more precious moments, she reunited with the characters where she had left them: in another dimension. She wondered what Algowagh's dimension would be like. After all, despite his funny clothes, he had two arms, two legs, one head, he spoke her language . . . he spoke her language? That was odd . . .

"Don't digress," she thought out loud and plunged her head into the pages again.

There were horrible monsters in that novel and a group of heroes had to fight them. It was a real matter of life and death. Swords, broadswords, axes, fire darts and energy balls. Yes, energy balls taking shape in the hands of druids and wizards, thrown against enemies, and that must have been seriously painful on the receiving end. Blood, blood was flowing everywhere—and yet Sara was the one still scared of injections! She shivered at the thought of finding herself in a similar situation. She was not a warrior and Algowagh could not force her to fight. No, he could not, and she would have refused to fight, definitely!

Sara could not stop reading, not even to brush her teeth or put her pyjamas on—she just lay on her bed with the tiny light of her bedside table lamp. She had the impression that the book somehow had a connection to Algowagh and the mission, that reading it was not just a leisure time activity while she waited for Algowagh to find the next useful Betwixt Door, but rather something she had to do in order to acquire information, like a manual containing answers to her questions. But eventually, tiredness and her fatigued eyes got the better of her, and she fell asleep, the light on, dropping the book.

The alarm clock started clanging away with its nasty metallic sound. Sara hated that alarm clock. She turned the bedside table lamp light off and sat on the bed rubbing her face with both hands. The book was on the floor, open. Sara looked at it in a sort of hypnotic state the sound of the alarm clock contributed to. She pushed the button to stop that nasty noise and stood up, took new clothes from the wardrobe and got dressed.

The only bathroom of the apartment was busy as usual, and she knew it so she passed by the kitchen to make herself a slice of toasted bread with jam and patiently waited outside the closed bathroom door, eating her breakfast.

Another cold and sunny day. As usual, Sara rushed to school on her bicycle, the book secure among her school books in the bag on her shoulders. For a moment she considered the idea of not going to school at all, but stopping somewhere to finish reading the book. The chilly air outside, along with the idea that her absence would have been more noticeable than her presence, made her change her mind.

So she ended up sitting at her third row desk during a science class. The teacher, a very formal middle-aged man with short and clearly coloured hair, was speaking about volcanoes, a topic that would have probably been interesting, if Sara had not been trapped by the words of the book she was clumsily hiding between the desk and her legs. Now and then she scribbled something on the notebook she had left open on the desk to give the impression that she was taking notes. Although she knew it was clear that she was not following what the teacher was saying, Sara could not help doing otherwise. She was reading faster and faster, almost anticipating words, if not ignoring entire sentences, as she could detect the ones really relevant to the core story. It was as if there was a hidden message beyond those words, a message for her only. Occasionally she took her eyes off the book to look at the teacher or her classmates. Voices seemed farther and farther away, as if somebody was turning down the volume, and images were fading. It must have been a strange reaction of her eyes that were actually burning with fatigue. She dived again into her reading. The words were very clear and sharp on pages, so it must have been a focus problem with her eyes, surely due to too much effort. Nothing really relevant or so important to stop her.

Last chapter. The glowing light dimmed, and the spatial-temporal door became solid again. Doors, doors all over! Maybe Algowagh too had read that book, Sara smiled.

The closer she came to the last word of the chapter, the more she felt that she understood. The same feeling of acquiring precious information that she had had the night before was getting stronger. Against all logic, Sara was convinced that what she was reading were the answers to her questions about the mission and that the words in the book, written in her own language, were hiding other words, written in another language, with another alphabet. "The Farian Alphabet," she murmured without realising it.

The Farian Alphabet? Where does it come from and what does it mean?

Despite the irrationality of her thoughts, Sara was more and more confident, as she was finally getting ready to fight. Maybe not a real fight with blood and energy balls, but the idea of facing horrible monsters and having a part—a very marginal part—in a fight, sounded less scary. She turned the page. Only one paragraph left. Fullstop. End of the chapter. End of the book.

Sara raised her eyes stunned. The teacher was still speaking, but it seemed as if he was under a glass bell. She could not hear a single word of what he was saying, neither what her classmates were murmuring or any other kind of noise around her. It was as if she was deaf. She opened her eyes wide and felt like she had just awoken, with half-sleeping eyes. Images around her were fading again, but the more she batted her eyelids, the more the images were getting confused. Was she fainting?

She felt something warm and somehow pleasant surrounding her, while her field of vision filled with white light, erasing the teacher, her classmates, desks, chairs, blackboard and everything else around her. She felt as if snow white feathers were silently falling on her—first a few of them, then more and more, submerging her, and eventually she felt the weight of tons and tons of snow white feathers on her. "I can't breathe!" she gasped, trying to utter a sound, but she shockingly realised that no sound could come out of her mouth, as if her vocal cords were not able to vibrate any more. Yet everything around was so pure white . . .

Dark. It was completely dark around her.

Sara breathed in deeply. The air was cold and humid. She breathed in again, deeper, and looked around, but everywhere was absolutely pitch dark.

A drop fell. She turned her head in the direction of the sound, but could not see anything other than black. Another drop, followed by an echo. With her palms, she touched the surface she was lying on. It seemed wood, rough wood, slightly humid. It could have been a bench. She touched it again. The board seemed endless and was leaning against the wall. She explored the wall with her hands. It seemed made of stone, big and irregular rocks sticking out of the vertical surface. They were cold and wet, with something soft and slimy in between. Something that might have been musk. A flash image passed through her mind: blue musk. She shook her head. What a stupid idea, blue musk! Everyone knows that musk is green. Because of the chlorophyll. Even though chlorophyll is useless in such darkness . . .

She realised that she was not scared. Oddly. There, in a completely unknown and dark place, with no clue about how she had reached it, she was not scared.

Sara sat on the bench—or whatever it was—and touched the floor with her feet. She heard the faint sound of water moving and immediately realised that her shoes had become cold, as if they were getting wet. There must have been a lot of water on the floor because in less than half a minute her feet were icy cold, as if her shoes were totally soaked, and the water was up to her ankles.

Well, it is worth exploring now . . .

She shuffled, slowly, careful not to fall into unexpected holes, or tumble down some stairs, or whichever trap may have been hidden in the darkness. Unlike the wall, the floor was so smooth that it could have been an ice skating rink, and this could also have been a reasonable explanation for the water. Not being scared, she felt so confident that she removed her hand from the bench and proceeded upright, turning her back to the wall, heading towards what she thought to be the middle of the space she was in. The only sounds around her were from the water, as she shuffled along, and some scattered drops falling now and then in indistinct spots.

Sara continued her exploration, moving randomly for a while, enough to come to the conclusion that wherever she was, it might have been a really big space, or at least she did not find any obstacle to delimit it. She suddenly realised that she was still shuffling with her arms stretched out wide and felt embarrassed. Maybe somebody is observing me, she thought. No, nobody was observing her, what a stupid idea! She chased away that thought with a gesture of her hand. And in any case, nobody could have seen her in that darkness. She dropped her arms and accidentally touched something. The bench, she thought, inexplicably sure that it was the same bench she woke up on, but with no idea why she was so sure about that. She sat and sighed, looking around uselessly. She pulled her legs up on the bench, and her feet stopped feeling so icy cold. She touched her shoes and, to her surprise, found them completely dry. They were soaking wet just some seconds ago! Not that she had touched them, but she had heard the noise of the water at her feet that had been so cold that her shoes had to be wet.

She felt tired, so tired that she could not keep her eyes open. She slumped into a state of numbness and she felt the urge to lie down. That unusual absence of fear relaxed her completely, and her thoughts vanished one by one from her head. The last thing she remembered was the certainty that she was not in the place she had always been. That she was not in her Dimension any more. And then sleep came.
Somebody knocked at the door

Somebody knocked at the door—a light touch, delicate but firm. Faewal opened her eyes with the impression that she had been sleeping forever. With a nimble movement, she sat up on the big four-poster bed and quickly glanced around the room. The light filtered through a pair of partially opened light green linen curtains that revealed a limpid sky out of the French windows opening onto a balcony. The room was big, covered by a cupola ceiling with frescoes of the cosmos. The image was stunning, and some stars were so well painted they seemed real. Faewal slid her feet from under the white quilt and put them onto the soft, white carpet lying at the left side of the bed. There were some clothes on a carved wooden armchair, upholstered with dark green velvet and embroidered with light golden threads. Faewal stood up and, while walking towards it, she heard a second knock at the door. "Come in," she said without hesitation.

The carved wooden door opened, and a tall, thin girl with a moon-like complexion and long periwinkle hair entered the room. She wore a purple dress, embroidered with a series of intricate symbols, and long enough to cover her feet. As she glided towards the French windows, she revealed a pair of suede pointed shoes that seemed so soft they could have been slippers. "The sun is almost at the day line, and moons are high in the sea, my dear sleepyhead. Do you have any intention of waking up this morning?" the girl asked with a smile, as she drew open the curtains.

Faewal smiled back and finished buttoning an immaculate white shirt with long and ample sleeves ending with big and tight cuffs. "I'm getting ready. I won't be late. Not today, Nimgirith," Faewal reassured her.

Nimgirith was like a sister to her, or rather, she was the sister Faewal never had. They had grown up together and were very attached to each other. Although Nimgirith was only the daughter of the queen's lady-in-waiting, nobody at court would ever have treated her with less respect than what was due to princess. Certainly, she behaved in the manner of a princess, while the very same could have not been said of the real princess.

Once Faewal had finished buttoning a waistcoat and donned a pair of dark leather trousers, she definitely did not look like a princess. Obviously, nobody would have thought her a boy, even though her outfit was without any doubt like a boy's. The thick red hair she was tying up in a simple ponytail and, above all, the emerald green eyes, made Faewal one of the most beautiful girls of the kingdom. But her manners, although princely, were far from feminine.

"Sapiens Universalis is waiting for you in the Throne Room," Nimgirith informed Faewal. "It seems that the creature from Dimension FourThousandSeventyThree is about to regain consciousness."

"Finally!"Faewal exclaimed. "She really had an unusual reaction to a dimensional crossing."

"True. And nobody can understand it. Dimension FourThousandSeventyThree's evolutionary level doesn't justify such a physical collapse," agreed Nimgirith. "Sleeping for two entire weeks!"

"A little too much," concurred Faewal, sliding one foot into a rough leather boot. "Anyway, Algowagh took good care of her and, in case the situation gets worse, he has the solution."

"The B Entity," Nimgirith murmured thoughtfully. "I have heard about it. . ."

"Don't worry," Faewal smiled reassuringly, standing up from the armchair. "It's really the best solution should the need arise. And there are no consequences. On the contrary, the B Entity can avoid a number of hitches."

Nimgirith did not seem much cheered up, but she knew that Faewal would never have shared her doubts.

"Let's go now," Faewal urged, opening the carved wooden door that Nimgirith had left ajar and headed towards the Throne Room.

Nimgirith smiled slightly and hurried behind her friend.

Faewal, with her determined gait, looked really like a boy, like a prince or rather the crown prince. Everyone at court thought the same, even the king who often asked himself whether it was not better to leave the kingdom to her. Her brothers, Lethkhjar the elder and Pothwegh the middle one, did not seem fit to rule the kingdom. They were not as firm and bold as Faewal, especially in prosecuting the never ending war with the Elves. Not that his two sons were not good warriors, of course, but Faewal had something special. She had the charisma needed to lead people or do battle, and the King's people just loved her. It was not mere chance that she had been chosen by Sapiens Universalis, on Algowagh's advice, to accomplish a mission far more important than the war against the Elves, one indeed which was vital not only for their dimension, but for the entire System's sake.

Faewal stopped in front of the Throne Room door which had no guards, as the Door itself was its own guard. After some seconds, the shiny white, glass-like door surface started to morph, as if liquefying, and the Door face jutted out slowly, starting from the big bulbous nose. As soon as lips and eyes were completely defined, emerging from the surface, its eyelids opened. "Who's there?" the Door enquired.

"It's Faewal the princess, the King's daughter," Faewal replied proudly.

"Do you have a good reason to enter the Throne Room?"

"Yes, I have."

"What's your good reason?"

"The King my Father asked to meet me."

The Door looked intensely at Faewal. Neither of them spoke a word, but the conversation seemed to continue in a secret code. Faewal's expression was extremely serious and so was the Door's. "I grant you the right to enter," said the Door solemnly after a while.

Faewal did not avert her gaze while the big round Door face started to crack in its middle, following a perfectly vertical line which ran smoothly from the floor to the ceiling. The crack became larger and larger, and the Door face opened in the middle, dividing the nose and the mouth in half and separating the two eyes, one on each side. When the Door was completely open, Faewal crossed the doorway resolutely, as the Door's eyes followed her.

Nimgirith waited respectfully for some seconds and then followed Faewal into the Throne Room. The Door closed immediately behind her, putting its two half faces together, and the crack disappeared, starting from the ceiling, down to the floor. The eyelids closed slowly, and the face started to melt back, until the surface of the Door was completely smooth and glass-like, as it was before.

The Throne Room was immense. Rectangular. One series of white marble columns at each long side created two aisles leading the eye towards a big three-step platform where the Throne was. The Throne itself was a massive wooden armchair, upholstered with soft maroon velvet. Its wooden parts—the back ones in particular—were carved with figures of all existing living beings in the kingdom. The floor of the Throne Room, as well as the platform, were made of crystal, and underneath them lay a large portion of the cosmos, where an unusually bright star surrounded by a purple nebula was the first thing catching the attention of anyone in the Throne Room. A long red carpet, edged with golden patterns, stretched from the Door to the Throne, guiding visitors to the place where the King would receive them, while a line of finely detailed chandeliers hanging from the ceiling illuminated the room, which, at that moment, seemed to be deserted.

"Father, are you here?" asked Faewal loudly, producing a light echo.

"Your Father is on his way."An old man with long silver hair and an even longer beard emerged from the aisle on the right. He wore a long sapphire robe, covered by a midnight blue cloak, both embroidered with golden patterns reproducing intricate symbols.

"Good day, Sapiens Universalis," Faewal greeted the man.

Algowagh appeared some seconds after, clearly following the old man.

"Everything is ready," said Sapiens Universalis moving towards Faewal. "The creature from Dimension FourThousandSeventyThree is waking up."

"I heard that," she replied, turning her face towards Algowagh with a questioning expression. "Do you think she can make it?"

The man took two steps in Faewal's direction. "I'm not so sure about that," he replied shaking his head, "but we'll soon see her reaction, and I'll take the necessary actions."

Faewal looked at him steadily.

"Unfortunately this hitch shortened our time," Algowagh continued. "The Spatial-Temporal Abyss is moving extremely fast, faster than we expected, and there are fewer and fewer Dimensions left intact."

Faewal's eyes fell on the unusually bright star in the purple nebula that seemed to twinkle ever more intensely, as if sending her a warning. "Let's proceed," she urged, returning from her thoughts.

Sapiens Universalis took some steps backwards and lifted his arms over his head. He wore a big golden ring with a dark green stone on the ring finger of his left hand and an even bigger one, with a diamond-like stone set in it, on the thumb of his right hand. Once his hands were joined together, they started producing a white light whose intensity increased until they gave off a beam of light that hit an invisible point in between the old man and Faewal. There, the beam stopped and evolved into a bright sphere, growing bigger and bigger. Slowly, the light inside it decreased, and the sphere became completely dark, but on a closer viewing, it was possible to distinguish something inside—a sleeping figure lying on a wooden board.

Nimgirith, who had been standing aside until that moment, approached the group to see the evolving sphere. The darkness around the small sleeping figure was gradually being replaced by more intense colours, and in one minute's time, the scene inside changed completely. The figure was no longer lying on the wooden board, but on a hammock of white rope, hanging between two big trees with irregularly spotted barks, and she was surrounded by a beautiful garden composed of a variety of trees of different shapes. Vividly coloured birds passed by the hammock, as if to have a look at the figure on it, and then flew away towards the cloudless sky, now a colour between light blue and lilac.

"We'll explain everything to her," Algowagh broke the silence.

"The minimum," Sapiens Universalis corrected. "You know that we are already breaching a dozen Laws."

Algowagh seemed to ponder on those words, or rather evaluate the consequences of what had already been done. Once more, he tried to reassure himself that whichever consequence resulted from breaching another Law of the System, it would be mostly insignificant compared to the damages that the Spatial-Temporal Abyss could cause.

"Come!" Sapiens Universalis interrupted Algowagh's thoughts. The old man made a gesture with his left hand, and the dark green stone on his finger sent out a glowing ray of light that seemed to invite the group towards a big French window on the left aisle that opened to the outside of the palace.
The grass was an intense green

The grass was an intense green, and the daylight, with its shade between light blue and lilac, was dazzling. Sapiens Universalis led the small group towards the white hammock in the middle of the beautiful garden full of trees of different shapes. The incredibly coloured birds produced curious sounds as they flew around the four walking figures, as if they were studying them. When the four reached Sara, they stopped and looked at her. She looked exactly like them—she had two arms, two legs, one head. In short, everything seemed normal. It was impossible to tell which dimension she was from, but clearly it was not Dimension Fifteen or she would not wear such anonymous clothes. Her trousers were made of thick cotton, uniformly dark blue and lacking any embroidery of any kind, while the upper part of her body was wrapped in an oversize black pullover with only a red, horizontal stripe at chest level. Her entire outfit gave the impression of carelessness and oldness as if the creature had been living in those clothes for months. Nobody from Dimension Fifteen would ever consider walking around in such clothes, not even the Elves!

Sapiens Universalis looked at Faewal and nodded. The girl crouched down beside the hammock and held Sara's hand in hers.

Sara was having very confused dreams, but at that precise moment she clearly saw her hands holding each other and was overwhelmed by an inexplicable sense of protection. She slowly opened her eyes, and the daylight almost dazzled her. As soon as she was able to focus on what was surrounding her, she recognised some tree crowns as well as the sky behind them, yet of a very strange colour, she thought.

A vividly coloured bird crossed her field of vision. She followed it by turning her head and thus, met Faewal's eyes. For a very short moment, she had the feeling of looking at her reflection in a mirror, but the feeling faded as she realised that she was in a totally unknown environment and surrounded by faces she had never seen before. She suddenly lifted her upper body to sit up on the hammock, barely managing to not flip it and fall down. The clumsy movement that Sara made to prevent herself from falling made Faewal smile and helped to ease the tension. Sara felt that she was not in a hostile environment and looked at the group of people around her with more attention.

Algowagh! She could have never imagined that that funny man could have been so familiar and reassuring to her! And Algowagh was almost normal compared to the rest of the group. How ridiculously dressed is everybody? And that girl down there, she has blue hair! Sara thought.

Algowagh approached. "Hi Sara," he smiled. "How are you?"

She stared at him, speechless. How was she? To tell the truth, she had not the faintest idea. She tried to stand up again, but her legs and knees were so weak, that she fell back on the hammock.

"Don't force yourself. You're still very weak, "Sapiens Universalis moved towards Sara and put his right hand—the one with the diamond-like stone ring on the thumb—on her shoulder. His touch was comforting, and Sara felt immediately relaxed.

"Was I . . . am I sick?" she asked.

"No. Not really. You just performed a dimensional crossing," the old man responded.

A dimensional crossing?

The image of Algowagh's drawing came to her mind. Bridges between lines, dimensions, Betwixt Doors. She tried to focus on it. She remembered the drawing on a black background very well, but that was all. She could not remember what surrounded the black background or what was it exactly, nor did she know where she had been when she had seen it and, most importantly, she could not remember anyone one else except Algowagh.

"I know you are extremely confused now," Algowagh started, "but I need to know what you remember."

Sara pondered on his words and gazed at him. Although the other people did not make her uncomfortable, Algowagh was the only one she felt she could trust, as if she had known him forever. She tried hard, but could not really find anything else in her head apart from Algowagh and his drawings. "I remember your drawings about Betwixt Doors, the Spatial-Temporal Abyss, Dimensions which were first parallel and then diverted." She paused and closed her eyes. "There is a mission to accomplish, and I have a part in it. I know something." She stopped again and looked at the group around her for a moment. "I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to do, but I do know that what I know is important." She paused once more. "The Normans," she murmured as she had an epiphany. For a short moment she saw a clear image of the history book she had studied. She remembered every single word, every single fact about the Normans—in fact she even remembered where the commas in the text were. "I know everything about the Normans, but I don't know the reason why," she concluded showing an evident sense of impotence coming from all those scattered memories.

"Your brain is free from all other memories," Algowagh explained, "so that you can remember only the ones related to the Normans. You can remember all events related to them because your brain can totally focus on what is important now, what is needed to rescue the System. And what is needed are the Normans."

Sara looked at him, puzzled.

"Do you see my drawing?" he asked.

She nodded.

"You crossed a Betwixt Door and you are now in my dimension."

She looked away from him and glanced around her. Almost everything surrounding her was familiar and strange at the same time. Like trees, for example, which looked familiar but yet something did not really match—they were not exactly right or as they ought to be. It was probably a question of shape or colour . . . she could not tell. The colour of the sky too was not right, as it clashed with her intuitive idea of colour of the sky, but she was also unable to say just what her idea of sky would be."Why is my brain free from other memories?" she asked abruptly.

"Because your memory has been partially erased," Sapiens Universalis replied straightforwardly.

Partially? She barely remembered one thing! "And who erased it partially?" she enquired.

"We did. Or rather he did," Algowagh pointed at Sapiens Universalis.

Sara looked at the old man and felt relaxed again. Actually, there was not so much to be relaxed. Had she lost all her memories? Had she lost her memory? Partially? "What do you mean by erased? Do you mean that I will never be able to remember again? Do you mean that I will never remember what I was before?" she asked, alarmed.

"You don't have to worry," Algowagh calmed her down. "You will get all your memories back in due course, and there will be no consequences."

She was tired and that is probably why she did not offer resistance to Algowagh's words. She just took them for granted.

"We needed to erase your memories for two important reasons," he continued. "First, because we absolutely need all your energies to be concentrated on the mission, and it is extremely important that you remember to perfection all details about the Normans' history. The second reason is that your memories belong to your dimension, as you do, but because you are now in our dimension, it is better for you not to bring them here, as this would breach the Second Law of the System."

The Second Law of the System? She vaguely remembered a mention about a First Law of the System, but everything was very confused.

The Second Law of the System was very simple: a being belonging to Dimension A can live and exist only in Dimension A. The problem was not with the Law itself, but with its corollary: any being belonging to Dimension A who, for whichever reason, breaches the Second Law of the System and finds itself in Dimension B, whether this is at a lower, equal or higher evolutionary level than Dimension A, interferes, through its simple existence, with the regular course of events in Dimension A, and in the long run, destabilises the whole System.

It was not necessary to explain her all that, especially because Sara looked weaker and weaker, and her concentration capacity was visibly decreasing. They had to hurry—she would not make it for long.

"Your body experienced an enormous trauma due to the dimensional crossing," Sapiens Universalis interjected. "It was totally unexpected but, unfortunately, it has happened."The old man gave a rapid glance at Algowagh who nodded as to confirm those words. "Your body was so exhausted that you have been sleeping for two weeks since you came from your dimension."

Two weeks?

"Sadly, during these two weeks, we were able to acknowledge that the effects on your brain from the dimensional crossing were much more severe than expected. They could prevent you from existing in this dimension and, above all, from facing the mission we need you to undertake."

Exist? As in the sense of living?

"We therefore have to protect your body as it seems to be your weakest point. We have already preserved your brain by erasing your memories, so what is left to be done now is a transmutation." Sapiens Universalis paused.

Transmutation? It reminds me of Chemistry, Sara thought sighing, although I don't remember what Chemistry might be . . .

"I'm aware this word rings a bell in your mind, but I doubt you have ever tried a transmutation in your dimension," Sapiens Universalis resumed. "To be specific, we need to host your inner self, your immaterial essence, in a much stronger body."

The image of a suit of armour came to her mind, and Sara's expression became more puzzled, if that was possible.

"A body able to bear the pressure of being in a different dimension and perform several dimensional crossings without suffering consequences," Sapiens Universalis tried to prepare her.

"You will be hosted in Faewal's body," Algowagh curtailed him.

"Whose body?" Sara asked in a voice an octave higher.

"Hers," Sapiens Universalis replied pointing at Faewal.

Sara turned her head and looked at the girl, opening her eyes wide, almost unnaturally. She breathed in slowly, trying to collect the little strength she had left. "Wait a minute. I came here from another dimension. You erased my memories because . . . because there is a Law of the System I have never heard of before, or so I think, as I remember nothing apart from the Normans. You left memories only about them, because they are the only memories needed for a mission I don't understand yet, and I still have no clue about what I am supposed to do in this mission. Now you are telling me that my body is too weak and that for this reason I cannot exist here in your dimension. If I have it correctly, to not exist means that I have to die or something very close to it. But, you have the solution. You make me transmute, that, you say, means that my soul, or as you nicely call it my immaterial essence, should enter her body. Do I have everything right?"Sara pointed her finger at Faewal and looked at each of the four as if to ask her question singularly to each one of them. Her cheeks were on fire, and she was shaking because of the effort it took her to organise all these complicated concepts into words, and probably because her body was exhausted from the resistance to all Laws of the System, whichever they were.

"Yes," Faewal answered after few seconds. "You've got the essence of it."

Sara stared at her, but only briefly, only until Faewal's emerald eyes started to fade, as well as Faewal herself and everything around her. She felt dizzy and nauseated, and then collapsed back on the hammock.

Sara lay abandoned on an armchair in Sapiens Universalis' Alchemistry Laboratory.

The armchair was bulky, apparently very comfortable and made of old, greenish leather. Sara's arms were resting on the armrests, and her head lolled leftwards. She slowly opened her eyes, awoken by a soft noise around her, but she was still so weak that she could not even move her head. She thus started exploring the room just by moving her eyes.

The ceiling was unusual and very interesting—a big glass cupola supported by huge reddish wooden beams so irregular that they resembled whole rough tree trunks, only partially sanded. But the interesting part of the ceiling was behind the beams and the glass of the cupola; as in a cloudless and limpid night, all stars were perfectly visible. The sky was dark, almost black, and stars, galaxies and nebulas were incredibly bright. What mostly caught her attention was an extended green-blue nebula in the right portion of the cupola. A careful look revealed its swan-like shape, with wings wide open in the moment before taking flight.

The floor was made of dark wood and dusty boards, and the walls were entirely covered by dark bookshelves filled with books of different sizes, looking very old, or perhaps, only very dusty. Books were mingled with flasks of different shapes and tubes of different sizes, all covered with the same thick layer of at least two-years old dust.

In the middle of the room, there was an enormous table made of wood of a lighter colour and covered with phials, flasks and stills containing dozens of coloured powders and liquids, some of which were burping coloured and thick clouds of gas. At one side of the table, Sapiens Universalis and Algowagh were busy preparing some mixture, or rather the old man was pouring the content of different containers in a big still, pausing only when the mixture emitted a burst of coloured gas, or fizzed violently, as if ready to explode. Sara wondered how the old man managed not to break any of those fragile glasses while brushing them with his fluttering midnight blue cloak. Algowagh seemed to be the old man's assistant. He was giving him all sort of different objects from spots that the old man could not easily reach on the table or from the bookshelves, and his expression was very concentrated, as that of an apprentice willing to worm all secrets out of his master.

Sara moved her gaze to the opposite side of the table where Faewal was sitting on a high stool, wrapping both arms around her bent right leg, while the left one was dangling from the stool, and Nimgirith was standing beside her. They were talking, but Sara could not hear a word of what they were saying. Faewal seemed very busy explaining something to her friend who nodded from time to time. Then, suddenly, Faewal glanced towards Sara, and their eyes met.

"She's awake," Faewal said loudly enough so that everyone could hear.

They all turned their heads towards the armchair and moved in Sara's direction.

"How are you feeling?" asked Algowagh reaching the armchair. "Is everything ok?"

Sara looked at him trying to lift her head upright, but she felt extremely weak, and her lips seemed numb as she tried to speak. "I don't know," she barely answered.

"We have to hurry," Sapiens Universalis intervened, "or she won't make it."

Sara remembered what has been said about transmutation and felt the need to have her say. "I don't," she murmured, "I don't want. . ."

"We need to inject the B Entity, now!" Algowagh said rushing to the table.

Sara followed him with her eyes and saw him coming back with something in his hand. She was scared. She could not understand what was going on. She could not understand why she felt so weak, why she did not even have full control over her body. And she was feeling so cold . . .

"Give it to me," Sapiens Universalis urged, stretching his hand towards Algowagh. "Give me the B Entity."

What's the B Entity? Sara breathed with difficulty. An antibody? A droid? What the hell is a B Entity? Her eyelids were too heavy. She simply could not help closing them and then she lost consciousness.

"Quickly!" Sapiens Universalis exhorted Faewal who was rolling up Sara's left sleeve.

Sara woke up again at the sound of his words and, with her eyes half-opened, saw what Sapiens Universalis was holding. A syringe. She started. "No!" she fought with the few remaining forces. "What are you doing?"

"Trust us," Algowagh calmed her down by putting a hand on her shoulder. "Trust me."

The last image her eyes recorded was a purple liquid slowly disappearing from the syringe into her arm. Then a warm feeling overwhelmed her, and suddenly everything was dark.

A sort of thick white vapour came out of Sara's nostrils while her body was losing colour and becoming grey as ashes. The vapour rose above everybody's heads and slowly concentrated on Faewal who was aware that the next steps were hers and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. The vapour entered Faewal's nostrils as she inhaled deeply, until it disappeared completely. Sara's body was then totally grey, as if she was a statue. Her head was bowing, and the arm that received the injection was lying limp on the armrest, while the other one fell slowly between her body and the second armrest. To the contrary, Faewal showed no external changes. She did not even have to sit down during the whole process. She just opened her eyes.

"Is everything ok?"Nimgirith asked her, slightly worried. It was the first time for Faewal to be involved in a transmutation, and even if the procedure was in principle quite simple, its consequences had not been documented exhaustively, and in any case they would have manifested later—of that everyone was well aware.

Faewal looked around for some seconds as to check if everything was fine with her body which was reacting as usual, it seemed to her."Everything is ok, don't worry," she reassured her friend, then addressed Sapiens Universalis. "We forgot to explain her how to communicate."

"You're right," he admitted. "But saving her life was far more urgent."

"She will find out," Algowagh intervened. "She is much cleverer than we imagined."
It took longer than expected

It took longer than expected. The mission should have started right after Sara's transmutation, but Sapiens Universalis had wanted to double check some details before sending Faewal and Algowagh into the unknown—or so he had said. Unknown was not exactly the word he had used, but the meaning was very, very similar. After all, however evolutionarily advanced their dimension was, nobody had ever gone to the place they wanted, or rather had to reach—the very heart of the System.

Faewal wandered aimlessly in the beautiful garden which surrounded the palace. The bright morning light gave way to the warmer one of dusk, and the sky took on a golden-greenish shade, while a second sun, much bigger than the earlier one, dominated the horizon with its rusty colour. In the distance, Faewal could see a big rocky formation, covered by snow. It was the Bluntle Mantle Mountains beyond which the never ending war for the conquest of the Biggle Deeple Lake was raging. Lethkhjar was leading the army against the Elves at that moment, replacing Faewal who was normally the commander-in-chief. She was an expert warrior and had proven her great courage on countless occasions. Her value was so universally recognised that neither Lethkhjar nor Pothwegh would have ever questioned her leadership, even though she was not the oldest of the king's offspring. The course of the war has been affected by her absence. Even though Lethkhjar was a very good warrior, he lacked the charisma that made Faewal so special. Enemies really feared her, and there were rumours that she actually was half-divine and thus impossible to defeat. But they were only legends or the Elves would have already surrendered to Men.

A bird with a very big head and thick brown and white plumage emitted an intermittent and deep sound. It was an owawk, the bird announcing the darkness, and it was on a branch directly above Faewal's head. She looked up, lost in her thoughts.

The darkness. The unknown that she was going to face. Faewal was a brave warrior, but she was not immune to the uneasiness that one may experience ahead of something unknown and as obscure as the mission ahead of her was. A good and brave warrior knows what fear is and faces it rather than ignoring it, otherwise he is not a good and brave warrior, but only a reckless fool.

She needed to be ready for the mission. She needed to stay focused. She slipped a hand under her waistcoat and took out the medallion that she kept around her neck. Ever since, as far as she was aware.

The medallion was round and made of an opaque grey metal. It depicted a dragon sitting on its hind legs with its body partially surrounded by its tail, and the long neck upright. The animal's gaze was proud and full of wisdom, and between its tail and left hind leg it was holding a little multifaceted stone that seemed to change colour depending on the position of the medallion. Faewal did not really remember the origin of the medallion or whether anybody had ever given it to her. She just remembered always having possessed it and felt it was somehow linked to her mother, as it had once belonged to her. It was just a vague feeling she had always had, but because thinking so helped her so much when she mostly missed her mother, she refused to investigate the real origin of the medallion, thus avoiding facing a possibly unpleasant truth. The medallion was somehow a secret between her and her mother.

So, holding the medallion tight in her right hand, she sat on the grass under the tree with her legs crossed. She looked once more at the large rust-coloured sun just above the horizon and closed her eyes. She relaxed her arms, letting them hang loose at her sides, and took deep breaths to relieve the tension she had accumulated. Slowly, she felt lighter and lighter, and a warm and vibrant energy started to flow through her body, as if it was coming from the grass beneath her and rising up to the top of her head. Her body started to radiate a light, like an aura, that surrounded her. The light was initially white, but soon turned to a yellow-orange colour, much more intense and thicker. Faewal was using a particular meditation technique, specific to the most valiant warriors of Dimension Fifteen and that was used to keep concentration focused and to visualise imminent events. The regular and deep breathing put her in a sort of trance, and she was eventually able to visualise images that became clearer and clearer.

Bare rocky mountains silhouetted against a white sky, streaked with purple concentric circles of increasing distance from each other as they drifted away from the horizon, and delimited a vast expanse of tall, blue grass in which the wind, howling with sudden gusts, produced large and smooth waves. Up in the sky, three stars shone brightly to the west, while to the east, two suns, one red and one blue, lit up the landscape. Something was moving in the distance, as if it was coming from the rocky mountains. As it approached, Faewal recognised a beautiful white horse, moving elegantly and powerfully, with its shiny hair highlighting the strong muscles under its skin. There was something on the animal, or rather someone. It was a boy, a very young one, or at least that was the impression she got from his appearance and his riding style. As the horse approached, Faewal was able to make out more details of the rider. His hair was jet black, with some deep blue highlights running through it, tousled by the wind and covering his face partially. Occasionally, strong gusts of wind exposed the boy's eyes completely, but Faewal could not tell what their exact colour was. She would have described it as ice more than anything, if ice was a colour, and looking at them made her feel uneasy rather than comfortable.

Darkness.

Where am I? There must be another wooden board around here . . . I can't move. Where are my hands? I can't move my hands. I can't feel them . . . Oh my God, I can't breathe! I can't feel my nose, my lips! I can't breathe . . . It's curious, I don't even have the instinct to breathe . . . I'm dreaming. Yes, that's it. It must be a dream. There's no need to breathe in dreams, right? But I can't see either. Wait a moment, there's something there. Something is moving. What is it? A horse . . . a horse riding across a prairie . . . a blue prairie? Ok, I'm definitely dreaming. Relax. Now you'll wake up. Now you'll open your eyes and wake up . . .

All of a sudden, the aura surrounding Faewal became thinner and less bright. The image of the young boy and the horse slowly faded until it disappeared completely. I'm definitely dreaming . . .

Sara . . .

"Sara, can you hear me?"

"Faewal? Where are you, Faewal? I can see nothing here, it's pitch-dark!"

Faewal opened her eyes.

All of a sudden Sara found herself in the palace garden. She remembered something of it from when she woke up on the hammock, but she was in a different spot this time. She could recognise the snowy mountains in the background, but the light was completely different; everything was much darker, as it was evening. There were the same trees with irregular spotted barks and crowns of different shapes. Now she could see, but she could not move her eyes to change field of vision.

"You are in my body." Faewal felt that Sara needed some explanations. "Do you remember the transmutation?"

The transmutation . . . Sara recalled a room with an amazing ceiling, a syringe, a purple liquid, faces around her . . . Then she focused again on what she could actually see."I can't move. I cannot even look wherever I want!"

"I know. You're in my body."Faewal looked down at her hands, then on her legs and feet. "Do you see? This is my body," she moved the fingers of her left hand. "You are in my body."

"And where is mine?"

"It's safe, don't worry."

"I don't have to worry? Are you kidding me? I am in someone else's body, and you're telling me not to worry? I want my body back. Now!"

"I'm afraid it's not possible. Or rather, technically it is, but do you remember how weak you were? Do you remember that you couldn't even stand on your feet?"

"Yes, I was tired, so what? Let me rest for a little more and I'll be in a good shape again."

"It's not a question of resting, Sara. Your body simply cannot suffer any further stress. It clearly doesn't bear dimensional crossings, and you won't survive what lies ahead of us."

Sara remained silent, thinking about those odd words. "I would die if I had to go back in my body?" she then asked.

"Under present conditions, yes."

"So, what am I now? Where am I now? Is this a kind of limbo or what?"

"Now you are in a safety condition, so to speak. As long as your inner self is in my body, you are safe. My body can bear all the dimensional crossings we have to go through."

Sara was not exactly happy with that answer, but the idea of dying was definitely a good argument against insisting on being out of Faewal's body. "But I can do nothing in here. I can't move. I'm trapped!"

"That's the way it has to be, I'm afraid. Can you imagine what would happen if we both could move my body and, for example, would like to go in two opposite directions?"

The image was clear and, in a certain way, funny, but Sara was not really in the mood for laughter. "I don't see the reason why I should stay trapped here. This way I'm useless."

"That's not true. Remember that you know something of paramount importance for our mission. You know the Normans' history, and this knowledge is with your inner self, not with your body. That means you being here inside my body is a circumstance that fits perfectly with our mission."

Not that the knowledge of being necessary to the mission relieved Sara much, but it at least calmed her down. On the other hand, did she have the means to impose her will? Truth was that those aliens—or whatever they were—had not left her with too much choice. Sara considered the situation. It was clear that she would not obtain any different answers from Faewal, and it was equally clear that having her body back was definitely low in priority at the moment—and the alternative of dying was not very appealing, she had to admit. So, there she was, in another world, trapped in someone else's body, with no option but to join the mission and do her best in order to conclude it as quickly as possible and go back to her normal life. Whatever that was, considering that she could not remember it.

The energy aura around Faewal had dissipated completely. The entire conversation had happened without a single word having been spoken. Faewal and Sara did not need to talk—and in fact only Faewal could have done it—but they could communicate in a sort of telepathic way.

Faewal breathed in deeply. She stood up and started walking around. Sara was still pondering on the situation and had no objections in her host doing so. And it would not make any difference anyway, she thought. After a minute or so wandering around, Faewal reached a spring of limpid water coming out from the rocky side of a small hill and turning quickly into a rivulet slipping over a narrow layer of white and grey pebbles. She crouched down and immersed her finger tips into the clear water, enjoying the fresh contact on her skin.

"Hi."

Faewal turned quickly, as she had been awaken from her thoughts, and saw Nimgirith and her gentle smile. "Hi," she replied.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, of course."

Nimgirith cocked her head to the right and gave her friend a shrewd look. She knew Faewal better than anyone and understood immediately when she was hiding something.

"Enough," Faewal corrected. "I would be completely ready if only I knew what exactly we would find out there."

"I think there's nobody in the entire System better than you for this mission," Nimgirith encouraged her. "Whatever the result will be. I have no doubts about that."

"Thanks," murmured Faewal and quickly changed the subject. "Sara found a way to contact me."

"Oh, so Algowagh was right. How is she?"

"She seems fine, even though she is not happy with her new condition. I really cannot imagine how it would feel not to be autonomous at all."

"It must be tough for her. Everything is so new, so incomprehensible for her evolutionary level, and now she finds herself in your body without even being able to move."

What a relief, they understand me . . .

"Do you remember?" asked Nimgirith after a few seconds of silence, looking at the big white leaved tree not far from the spring.

Faewal smiled. "Yes. . ."

When they were little girls, more or less at the time the queen had disappeared, they had found an injured grum under that tree. They had rescued it and saved its life, and from that moment the little animal had become the children's mascot. It was so funny in all its clumsy movements. It was more or less the size of a dog, but with only two hairy hind legs, ending with yellow webbed feet. It had a furry black spotted grey body and a disproportionately big head. But the funniest parts were its ears—two enormous pinnae made of a pale pink cartilage, so thin it was possible to distinguish the little green veins forming a sort of spider web inside them. When all the kids played hide-and-seek, the grum was always the first to be found as it regularly forgot it had such big ears and did not hide them properly.

Nimgirith smiled too, remembering the grum.

Many years later, when Faewal had gone to war, Nimgirith was sick for a long period and nobody noticed that the grum had disappeared. It had probably left in search of Faewal and gotten lost in the Bluntle Mantle Mountains. Then, when Nimgirith recovered from her long illness, she could not do much more than call the grum incessantly and looking for it all over, but, unfortunately, in vain.

Faewal looked once more at the sky that by then was almost completely dark as the big rust-coloured sun disappeared. She turned towards Nimgirith and then ran her eyes over the garden for the last time. For the first time in her life she tried to fix those images in her mind, because for the first time in her life, she seriously considered the possibility of not seeing them again.

"Faewal!" Algowagh was walking fast towards the two girls. "Come! We are through now. We have to leave."

"Let's go then," she replied promptly. "Let's not waste more time."And she headed towards the palace with resolute steps, leaving the spring, the white tree, the garden and all her memories behind her.
Silence reigned

Silence reigned over the Throne Room, and the darkness outside was exaggerated by the light of the big chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

Seated on the big carved wooden throne, the King was speaking to a boy standing to his right. This was Pothwegh, the King's second son and the second in line to the throne. Lethkhjar, the crown prince, was on the Bluntle Mantle Mountains replacing Faewal on the battlefield against the Elves. The King looked old and tired. His white hair hinted at his real age, yet his deep blue eyes still sparkled with the same fierce and intrepid light he had had as a young prince leading Men at war and winning battle after battle. Those bold eyes, to which time had given a wise shade, could now barely hide the sorrow for not having been able to prevent his beloved Queen from disappearing and for being just a spectator of his only daughter leaving on such a doubtful and dangerous mission. He would have given anything to be in her place, so as to protect her in case the mission would end tragically, but he knew that that was not possible, because Faewal, and only Faewal, had the chance to accomplish the mission. Chance . . .

Pothwegh was very young. He seemed younger than Faewal. He was a good boy, but not at all inclined towards war and, most importantly, not as charismatic as Faewal was. The definition that fitted him best was poet. He loved to write and was a champion when it came to words. He literally enchanted everybody with poems he recited for his father and siblings. He must have inherited it from his mother. The Queen's gentleness and sensitivity had passed directly to him, skipping Lethkhjar and especially her only daughter. Pothwegh's ash blond hair and his light green eyes made him look delicate, almost fragile. On the rare occasions he joined his siblings on the battlefield, he was soon called back after Lethkhjar sent word to the King that he was concerned about his brother's safety. Pothwegh was simply unable to protect himself. He was too gentle, and the idea that someone could hurt him intentionally had never crossed his mind. Needless to say, the idea of killing itself was a million miles away in his thoughts.

Sapiens Universalis reached the two on the platform and started explaining what would happen soon. The King was familiar with Sapiens Universalis' magical practices that had been of great help to him in the past, when he was a young warrior, but Pothwegh seemed to ignore them completely, and it was not easy for him to understand what his sister would soon face.

Sapiens Universalis' explanations had just started when Faewal entered the Throne Room. Followed by Algowagh and Nimgirith, she walked through the French window separating the room from the garden and crossed the left aisle demarcated by the long row of white marble columns. Her firm steps echoed in the immense room, catching everybody's attention. Without hesitation, she crossed the space that separated her from the platform and climbed the three steps. The King rose from the throne and moved towards his daughter as to welcome her.

"Father," she greeted respectfully. Her gaze was firm and proud, and she clearly showed that she was aware of the importance of the task facing her.

The King was not used to showing his feelings. As a warrior, he had learnt not to disclose them, as well as not to waste time with words, and that was what Faewal had inherited from him. He looked at his daughter for some seconds. He could not see the little girl running all over the palace any more, only the strong and determined woman, the astute and valiant warrior she had become with time."My daughter," he started. "You know what this mission means to all of us. To the System itself. You are in the position of rescuing us all, and I'm sure your valour and courage will bring you back triumphant. I know the battle will be hard, much harder than all battles you have fought, as well as I know that you will be a different warrior, a different person, when you return."Although the King forced himself not to disclose his feelings, he had to avert his gaze from his daughter's, so as not to reveal his emotions. An imperceptible movement, a fraction of a second, but one that did not escape Faewal, whose steadiness wavered for the same imperceptible fraction of time. "I know you'll succeed," the King concluded, regaining control and clasping a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "I know you will save the System."

"Yes Father, I will," she nodded solemnly. The King removed his hand, and Faewal turned towards her brother who had remained some steps aside. "Take good care of the palace," she addressed him. "I know Lethkhjar will do his part against the Elves."

Pothwegh nodded seriously and approached his sister. "Don't worry, everything is under control," he said, trying to put his most reassuring expression on. But both he and Faewal knew that he was not capable of managing the palace and, least of all, defending it. Fortunately the King was not so old yet as not to take care of the court, thus allowing Pothwegh to promise something that should not be difficult for him to keep, or at least this was what he secretly hoped for. Differently from Faewal and the King, Pothwegh did not struggle to hide his emotions and did not care about a tear slowly trickling down his cheek. "Take care," he said to his sister, in an affected voice. "I have so many poems to read. . . If you don't come back soon, an entire life won't be enough to listen to them."

Faewal smiled. She found it good that Pothwegh could express his emotions so freely. It was one of the qualities that made him so dear to everybody. Pothwegh came closer and, before Faewal could figure out his intentions, he held her tight. She was taken aback, with her arms at her sides, and not free as he was to show her feelings. The only thing she could do was lift an arm, still tight within her brother's grip, and give him a clumsy pat on the back. When Pothwegh loosened his embrace, she slightly moved away from him, so as to avoid any further surprises, and met the eyes of Nimgirith who was not obliged to respect any strict behavioural rules either, and tears were already streaming down from her reddish eyes."See you soon," said Faewal approaching her.

"See you very soon," murmured Nimgirith, but could not add more as she risked a flood of tears.

"What you have to do is simple," Sapiens Universalis started again, as Faewal turned towards him. "You have to reach the very heart of the System. The city of Fjunur."

Fjunur? Why does this ring a bell? Sara was all ears, as it seemed to her the explanation she had so longed for—and nobody had ever deigned to give her—was finally coming. Not that the beginning seemed so clear, but at least it was a beginning.

"The Books of Worlds, where the History of all the System's Dimensions is written, are kept in the city of Fjunur. Those books' words are now being erased as the Big Empty proceeds into Dimensions." The old wizard paused, staring at Faewal and Algowagh, both extremely attentive. "In order to enter the tower where the Books of Worlds are kept, you have to defeat Pichros, and I tell you, it won't be easy."

Pichros—Fjunur's guard—was known for being unbeatable, or at least this was what the legend said, as no one had ever returned to tell their story. But a legend could not frighten an intrepid warrior such as Faewal, and in any case it was totally useless to waver, especially as there simply was no alternative.

"But before reaching the city of Fjunur in the First Dimension, you must find the fourth fellow of your group. You already have a valiant warrior," Sapiens Universalis looked at Faewal, and then moved his gaze to Algowagh, "a very capable wizard, and the one who will be able to re-write History in the Books because she knows all the details to perfection."

If Sara had been present in her own body, she would surely have blushed. But most of all, she was impressed by discovering that Algowagh was a very capable wizard—she would have never imagined so.

"Your battle against Pichros will be hard, and you need a second warrior to help Faewal. Thus, your first task will be identifying him. The only thing I can tell you is that he belongs to Dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven, but, unfortunately, I could not find out more. I calculated that a Betwixt Door to his dimension will soon open between those two columns," he continued, pointing his long and bony forefinger at the aisle of columns on the right. "Once there, you'll have to find him and persuade him to join you in your journey to the city Fjunur."

Faewal saw images of the vision she had during her meditation. The difficult part would not be identifying the warrior, but persuading him to join them. Dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven was not very advanced, evolutionarily speaking, and some concepts might be hard for him to understand. On the other hand, everything had run smoothly with Sara, who was not from a very evolutionary advanced dimension either, so there was no reason to believe it would not be the same with the fourth of the group, she thought confidently.

"As far as I know, once you beat Pichros, you should have no more obstacles, and the mission should be considered easy to accomplish. But it is better not to lower your guard because the Spatial-Temporal Abyss is seriously interfering with the System and producing unexpected dynamics, and this can still take you by surprise." Sapiens Universalis paused and looked at Algowagh. "You have a very important task, and I know you can perform it well. Once you reach the Books of Worlds, what you and the being from Dimension FourHundredSeventyThree have to do. . ."

Sara, my name is Sara.

". . . is crucial."

Algowagh nodded. "Don't worry. We will do it."

"Good!" Sapiens Universalis took a big breath and looked at something he was wearing on his right wrist. "The Door is about to open. Follow me."He made an ample gesture with his right hand. The ring with the diamond-like stone on his thumb seemed to invite everybody to follow him towards the columns he had just pointed at. As if hypnotised by the fluttering of Sapiens Universalis' midnight blue cloak, the group followed the wizard until they all stopped in front of the fifth column from the platform.

They all kept silent, as they all knew what to expect, as they all had already seen thousands of Betwixt Doors opening, Sara thought. It was the first time for her, and she had no clue where to look. "Where is it? Where is the Door?" she asked impatiently.

"Look there, between the two columns in front of us," Faewal answered mentally. "And just be patient."

Sara concentrated her attention on the space that Faewal had indicated, and that, in fact, seemed to be darker than the rest of the room. After some seconds, she realised that the rectangle formed by the two columns, the floor and the ceiling, was completely black, as if it was a separated space, independent from the rest of the room. Then, a small light shone in the middle of the black rectangle, progressively taking the shape of a vertical split that opened gradually until it occupied the entire rectangle. Once Faewal's eyes got used to the strong light, Sara could see what stood in front of her. It was like an endless shimmering corridor opening between the two columns and crossing the right aisle of the Throne Room perpendicularly.

"It's a Z type Door, don't worry," Sapiens Universalis broke the almost reverent silence.

Z type? Ah, yes, Z type. The slow one, Sara remembered, 30 seconds . . .

Nobody seemed keen on moving.

No worries. Please kiss and hug once again. We have plenty of time!

Faewal smiled at Sara's words, then quickly turned towards the group and lifted a hand as to wave at them. Her eyes met her father's blue ones for a fraction of second, and then she turned again towards the Door and stepped into the bright rectangle. Algowagh followed immediately after her.

As it opened, the Door started to close again, leaving the two figures to fade in a narrower and narrower bright flash that disappeared completely, as the space between the two columns once more fell dark, as it had been before.
A gentle breeze

A gentle breeze caressed the long blue blades of grass. The sky was white, except for the pale purple, concentric circles around the two suns similar in size, but different in colour, one being red and the other blue. In the background, the silhouette of a dark brown group of rocky mountains was clear against the cloudless sky.

Faewal and Algowagh were deeply asleep, their bodies lying on the grass.

"Faewal?"

Sara, though, was awake. The B Entity injection had met its purpose and had protected her from the dimensional crossing's side effects. As Faewal's eyes were still closed, Sara could not see what was around her, but her host's ears allowed her to listen freely, so that's what she decided to concentrate her attention on.

There was wind. A light wind. Breeze, she would have called it. The breeze was blowing intermittently and moving something light, like the leaves of trees. A large amount of leaves, she thought. Unfortunately, this was the only sound she could hear for a while, and there was nothing more that she could do other than listen and wait. After what it seemed to be an eternity, she heard something different, carried in the breeze and so faint that she had to make an effort to fathom out whether it was a real sound or just a figment of her imagination. But it became more distinct as its source approached.

Steps. They were steps, but not exactly footsteps. They were too many for a pair of legs only, and the gait was one of an animal cantering, she thought. It had to be a horse and it was approaching quite fast. So fast that in a while she was able to recognise the animal's snorts too.

"Whoa, Bodlin," somebody said.

The hoof steps stopped, and Sara could hear the sound of the horse rider dismounting and walking towards them.

"Who are they?" he asked loudly.

His voice was the one of a young boy rather than a man.

"They are funny, aren't they, Bodlin?" the boy spoke again. He studied the two lying on the grass. They were clearly men like he was. Or better, one was clearly a man—a plump and middle-aged man—but the second, despite the masculine outfit, looked like a woman, with long red hair and beautiful features. And she was clearly younger than the man. The boy found them funny, but not because of their shape, that was indeed perfectly normal, rather because of the way they dressed. Their clothes were made out of leather, as his were too, but only partially. Under their waistcoats, they both wore a garment covering their trunks and arms up to the wrists. The garment was made out of a material that he had never seen before. Or at least, he could not figure out which animal's skin could become like this, once dried. Apart from the strange material, the decoration of the clothes was the aspect of the duo's outfit that most grabbed the boy's attention. Instead of being painted with the red of grounded seeds of forest trees, or the yellow of dried buffalo's blood or even the blue of macerated grass, the clothes were decorated in such an unusual way that he had to kneel to better examine them. It was like a long blade of grass—not blue, but bright yellow—interwoven with both the leather and the unknown material, weaving them through such small holes that could have never been made with arrow points, he wondered, bewildered. The blade of grass had passed through countless holes, and the final result was a complicated and fascinating pattern making the clothes incredibly beautiful. The duo, whoever they were, had to be very important!

They had bags with them, the boy noticed. He opened the one lying next to the man and extracted some objects that he had never seen before; small, long and narrow containers made out of a transparent and hard material, holding coloured liquids, powders and little things he could not figure out the use of. The girl's bag was filled with weapons instead, although the most beautiful of them she held it tied at her waist through a leather belt. It was a long dagger—too long and difficult to handle, he thought—with the hilt made out of a stone-like cold material, grey and shiny, with coloured stones trapped inside. The dagger blade was made out of the same cold shiny material . . . and it was also extremely sharp, he discovered!

The boy withdrew his hand. He had cut himself with the blade of Faewal's sword. He quickly took a piece of soft leather hanging from his belt and wrapped his bleeding finger in it, tying it tightly with the help of his teeth. Once this operation was finished, he stared at the two, then moved his gaze to Bodlin, a splendid specimen of white unicorn, and made his decision. He approached the girl, lifted her and put her across the animal, so that her legs dangled on one side and her head and arms on the other side of the unicorn. He checked whether she had woken up. "She sleeps like a log, does she?" he observed, addressing Bodlin with a smile.

The animal replied with a sort of neigh.

Sara sensed that change of position. She imagined that Faewal's body had been moved and roughly thrown onto something that, judging from the hairy and warm surface, she believed was the horse.

Algowagh got the same treatment immediately after. The unicorn complained weakly after the second weight was loaded on it, but the boy ignored it and tied the bags on the animal's rump. Then he took the bridles and started walking, leading the unicorn which was clearly not happy about its new burden. "Move Bodlin, let's not make a night of it," he exhorted.

They walked in silence while the daylight dimmed slowly until something happened in the sky. As the two suns approached the horizon, they started to move in a spiral, one after the other, as if they were chasing each other, and proceeded in progressively smaller curves, getting closer and closer to each other. The purple circles, hardly perceptible until that moment, became darker and clearly recognisable. The suns seemed as if they were about to collide, but like every day, as for every sunset ever since the world began, just a second before crashing into each other, they disappeared behind the horizon. And as the legend goes, they would have continued running after each other until they brushed and changed their course, moving away, and eventually reappearing from behind the horizon on the opposite side of the heavens the following morning, giving birth to a new day.

While all this was going on, the boy and his unicorn had walked through the blue prairie and entered a thick forest of tall trees. The tree trunks were of a rusty colour, with a very rough and irregular bark. The bottom portion of the trunks was large and entirely covered in a thick layer of small blue, lance-shaped leaves, thinning out as their distance from the ground increased, until leaving the bark completely bare. A little higher than the point where the blue lance-shaped leaves stopped, the bark ended abruptly, disclosing a yellowish wood with a spongy texture. Such a bark-less section was short, and a different kind of leaf started growing just above it. They were dark blue and similar to long blades of grass, originating from the top of the tree and bending downwards in a sort of large umbrella.

The boy and his unicorn had been walking in the forest for half an hour, when some light peered through the trees crowns. The village appeared.

Faewal stirred. It was not the best position to be sleeping in, for sure, and her ribs hurt.

"At last," said Sara, sensing her host waking up.

"Where are we?" Faewal asked loudly, opening her eyes.

"Close your eyes and pretend to sleep!" Sara urged her.

Faewal trusted Sara and did as she said, trying not to move in spite of the pain in her ribcage.

The boy stopped and turned back, looking doubtfully at the animal's load. "Did you hear that, Bodlin?" he asked the unicorn.

But the animal whinnied, shaking its head. It clearly wanted to reach the village and be free of its unwanted load—everybody knows that unicorns are not beasts of burden!

The boy looked once more at Faewal. She seemed asleep, exactly the way he had found her, but something did not add up. He sighed, shrugging his shoulders and approached the unicorn's muzzle. "We are almost there," he justified his decision and pulled the bridles to resume the walk. "Yuk will solve it."

Bodlin whinnied again in disapproval.

"What's up?" Faewal asked Sara.

"I didn't see much," she replied. "Your eyes were closed, and even when you opened them, it was not for long and it was too dark to see. What I understood is that this fellow found us lying on the ground and loaded us on his horse. The fellow is not very talkative. He just spoke few words to his horse, but I've got the impression that he's quite young. From the noises I heard, I would also say that he rummaged through our bags."

Faewal remained silent for some seconds. "Were you a professional spy in your dimension?" she asked ironically.

If Sara would had had a mouth of her own, she would have probably given a hint of a smile. "Maybe," she replied, amused. But at that moment she did not care much about what she was in her dimension. The time would come for her to regain her memory and to come back to her usual occupation—perhaps espionage.

"Let's see where he'll take us," Faewal resumed. "It's not wise to move now. We don't know whether this fellow is dangerous or not, and, with Algowagh sleeping, we cannot escape easily. Even though I don't have the impression the fellow tied us up, did he?"

"I don't think so. I'm pretty sure he just loaded us on the horse."

"Ok. So, let's be patient."

By then, the trees had become thinner, and a tall palisade, made out of big, robust wooden poles, was visible ahead. It looked like a wall, extended and continuous, with only a big gate and two small towers at its sides. The two towers were an integral part of the palisade and surmounted it, ending with a sort of little narrow roofed cage where only one person could stay. Two big torches were hanging outside the cages in order to light the gate and the space immediately before it. The right tower was empty, but a person was clearly recognisable inside the left one. It was a man dressed in leather clothes, leaning lazily on his bow, his quiver slung over his shoulder. The sentinel did not look particularly vigilant, but as soon as the boy and his unicorn were near enough to hear their steps, the man changed his attitude, nocking an arrow and stretching the string of his bow so quickly and nimbly that nobody would have imagined a few moments before that he possessed such skill."Who's there?" he shouted to the nearer trees emerging from the darkness.

The boy entered the bright area and became visible. "It's me," he replied, moving his gaze up to the sentinel and slowing his pace.

"Huydai! Your brother has been looking for you the whole day," the man exclaimed. Then he focused on the burden over the unicorn's rump. "What are you bringing with you?"

"Two foreigners," Huydai replied nonchalantly. "I found them in the prairie."

"You found them?" the sentinel asked incredulously. "And whatever you find, you bring it here without thinking? They could be enemies! It could be a trap! I can't let you in the village with those two!"

"You what? Are you kidding? Let me in, Thar, come on!"Huydai took two firm steps towards the gate, pulling Bodlin's bridles. His gaze was sullen. He could not stand being contradicted and, least of all, reproached.

On the other hand, Thar, the sentinel, did not want that greenhorn to walk all over him. The fact that the greenhorn in question was the little brother of the village head did not make him less of a greenhorn. A rebel and troublemaker greenhorn.

Neither of them wanted to concede.

Bodlin whinnied, exasperated with the burden it had been carrying for more than one hour.

"What is it, Thar?" asked a voice from inside the palisade.

Thar looked downwards. "It's Huydai—" he started, but before he could finish, the second man was already opening the heavy gate.

"Huydai, at last!" said the man. "Yuk has been looking high and low for you. Come in and—" The man stopped as he saw the two bodies loaded on the unicorn. He looked upwards at Thar with an interrogative expression, but Thar could do nothing more than raise his eyes to the sky.

"I just hope you tied them up tightly!" Thar said in an attempt to keep a crumb of dignity.

"I forgot the rope." Huydai answered irritatingly and walked through the gate pulling Bodlin's bridles.

The big wooden palisade enclosed the village. It was an ample area, mainly composed of tents, with a large and empty space in its centre acting as the main square, where a rust-coloured wooden platform was. Three wooden chairs, covered with leather, were on the platform, and behind them rose a tall carved wooden totem, painted in red, blue and yellow.

Each tent was built around two main poles, whose ends came out of a leather patchwork and were covered with dried tufts of blue grass. The leather cover was decorated with big blue and yellow circles. The tents had a front and a back entrance, and they were arranged in circles of six, in the middle of which there was a fire pit held in by green stones forming a triangle. There was always someone around the fires, either men speaking or children playing, but never women. Women were timid and did not show themselves much. During the day, while the men were hunting in the forest, they performed all the tasks necessary to manage the village, but as soon as the men came back, the women resigned to their tents, where they remained until the following morning.

Huydai passed across four circles of tents, heading towards the centre of the village that was dominated by the only dwelling made out of wood, looking onto the main square. It was a stilt house, accessible by a three-rung ladder, built with very regular walls of solid wooden poles and a roof consisting of a wooden frame on which a leather patchwork, decorated with red and blue circles, had been stretched.

Huydai's passage aroused general curiosity. The ones already outside the tents stopped doing what they were doing and followed the queer burden on the unicorn with their eyes, whereas the braver ones physically followed the animal and its owner. Even some women, intrigued by men's comments and children's exclamations, dared to spy from one or two tents.

By the time Huydai had reached the stilt house, he had a small group of children and some men behind him, which he seemed to ignore. "Yuk," he called out loud towards the main entrance of the stilt house, closed by a leather curtain.

A few seconds later the curtain drew open, and a man appeared in the doorway.
The light of the fires

The light of the fires barely lit the burden on the rump of the unicorn. Yuk squinted his eyes to better focus on it. "Huydai! I have been looking for you for hours," he reproached the brother. "Were you on the Baredust Mountains?"

"Can we discuss it in private and not in front of the entire village?" Huydai asked, annoyed.

"What's on Bodlin?" Yuk ignored his brother's request.

"Foreigners."

"Foreigners?"

"Yes, foreigners. I know no other word to describe them."

"Did you take them prisoners?"

"No. I found them sleeping on the grass, at the Baredust Mountains' slopes."

"Where you were." Yuk gave the brother a very stern look.

"Yes, where I was all day long, ok?"

It was definitely not appropriate to continue that conversation in front of the entire village. Yuk addressed one of the men standing in the little crowd which had followed Huydai's walk across the village. "Oderig, guard those two foreigners. If they wake up, you know what to do," he ordered.

"Shall I bring them down from Bodlin's rump?"

"Whatever you prefer, as long as they remain harmless." Then he turned towards the brother, "you, come inside."

"Harmless? Something tells me that this will turn out badly," said Sara.

"Don't worry. We have to wait for Algowagh to wake up, anyway. Keep calm, and we will sort it out one way or another."

"One way or another? Do you mean that you don't have a plan?"

"I'm fine-tuning the last details."

Huydai entered Yuk's house through the leather curtain, followed by his brother. The interior was illuminated by a small fire, burning in the middle of the only room and arranged on a thick layer of stones insulating the floor against it. A young woman was cooking in a big stone bowl placed over the fire, and the delicious smell of food filled the air. Yuk indicated a grey furry cushion next to the fire to the brother, then fetched a second one and sat on it with his legs crossed. Huydai sat in front of the fire, facing the brother.

The fire lit their faces. Their skin was more bronzed than a simple tan given by healthy open air living, and they both had the same black hair colour, with deep blue lights, but while Yuk kept his tight with a thin leather string, Huydai left it loose and tousled. They both had such extremely light blue eyes that one could have said they were made out of ice.

"We have two problems now," Yuk began in a serious tone. "In addition to your obsession for the Baredust Mountains, we now have two foreigners inside the village."

"It's not an obsession!" protested Huydai "I want to know."

"What do you want to know?" Yuk raised his voice. "There's nothing to know! There's nothing you will find out up there. This is our life. Here, in this village, with these people who received us as if we have always been part of them. These people who reared us."

"These people who made you Head of the village! That's enough for you to forget where you are from. Can't you see that you are not like them? Can't you see that your skin is darker and your hair is black? Don't you feel that you don't belong to these people?"

Yuk looked furious at his brother, then moved his gaze to his wife who had approached a cradle at the back of the room where a baby was crying, probably disturbed by such loud voices. "These are my people," replied Yuk icily. "Nobody has ever made me feel different because of the colour of my skin or my hair. And nobody has ever done that to you either. Only you want to feel different. You are so obsessed by your ghosts that you look for people who are probably all dead. And if they aren't, you seem to forget that they abandoned you when you were still a baby!"

"You are the Head only because you are different. Only because they think that we have descended from the gods. And they think so because we look different. You would have never been what you are now if you had looked like them!"

"I am the Head because I deserve it. Because I proved that I can lead these people and I can make the right choices for their lives to be happy and free from fears. Because I want their own good and I'd never dare to run the risk and bring potentially harmful foreigners into the village!"

Huydai remained silent. Of course he could not assert the opposite, but he could not admit his brother was right either. Not in words at least, though his silence was enough. That same discussion occurred regularly and could have lasted forever each time.

Huydai and Yuk had been abandoned on the Baredust Mountains when the former was still a baby boy and the latter barely six years old. It was an exceptionally cold winter that year, and the normally bare mountains were covered with a thick layer of snow. Yuk had walked for two whole days, hauling his little brother, well-wrapped, in a sort of sleigh, up to his physical limit, until he had fallen asleep in the snow, and Huydai had had no more energy left even for crying. Luckily, some men from the village had found them just in time and had saved them from an icy death. With no hesitation, and moved only by a life conservation instinct, the men had brought the two children inside their village to feed them and warm them. The then Head of the village, Tygour, had welcomed them in his own house and reared them as his own children. Of course, everybody noticed that they were not of their same race. People from the village had a fair complexion, and their hair and eyes were brown, while those two children had a much darker skin colour, hair like the night and eyes like ice. But they were children and they had been abandoned. Most probably nobody would have come back to look for them, and they would have died in the snow had the men from the village not rescued them. Nobody ever considered them a threat. They grew up in the village, and when Tygour became too old and Yuk fell in love with Diwha, the eldest of Tygour's daughters, and married her, it seemed absolutely natural for him to become the new Head of the village. The brothers' mysterious origin, together with their different appearance, cast suspicion as to whether they could have descended from the gods, even though the brothers had never proved to master any particular divine power. Yuk was a perfect Head, and everybody felt safe under his leadership. He was wise and understanding, strong and firm, and since he was the Head, nobody in the village ever lacked anything, and their lives were happy and absolutely worry free.

Huydai was a far cry from his brother. He had never accepted the fact that he had been abandoned. Deep down in his heart he still believed that his people had not abandoned them on purpose, but that something unpredictable, like a kidnapping or a war, had separated the two beloved kids from their people. People who—he believed—were still incessantly looking for them. And who were not probably completely human, but godlike or at least half-god—something divine in any case. He sensed that he was on a different level. He sensed that his destiny was different from that of the people of the village. He knew that he would not grow old in that village. He knew that he would become a hero. That is why he had never integrated into the village. He never participated in hunting, even though he was an excellent archer. He had no friends amongst the village boys and he was horrified by the thought of marrying one of the village girls and having children with her, as his brother had done. Since he was a young kid, he had been attracted to the Baredust Mountains. So attracted that he had once disappeared for several days, and Yuk was so worried that he had gathered a group of the bravest men and gone up to the mountains in search of him. They had found him half-dead in a fissure.

"Now, let's try to solve the second problem: those two foreigners you brought inside the village," Yuk resumed.

"You really don't understand, do you? They could be them," Huydai replied, raising his voice. "They could be our people!"

"Stop it Huydai! You did a very stupid thing. They could enemies."

"Or, they could be our people."

"Do they have our same hair colour?" asked Yuk sarcastically. He had only seen the two in the half-light of the external fires, but Faewal's red hair had not escaped him.

Huydai kept silent. He could not deny the evidence. "Maybe they are not our people," he conceded. "But we have never seen people other than those of this village before. Maybe they come from the Baredust Mountains. Maybe they know our people."

"Or maybe they are armed and dangerous, with evil intentions, and wanting to destroy our village."

"Enough! This is not my village. These are not my people, and if I have to sacrifice them to finally find my people, I won't hesitate!"

Yuk could not stop himself from slapping his brother in the face. Huydai was taken aback. His brother had never hit him before. They had always been on the same side, and even when they had fought, Yuk had never, ever raised his hand against him. That was the first time that Huydai clearly felt his brother was no longer on his side, but on the side of the village. Against him.

"Are they armed?" asked Yuk suddenly.

Huydai remembered the long sharp dagger made out of that strange grey and shining material. "Yes," he lowered his eyes.

"That's enough to kick them out of this village immediately," said Yuk, getting up from the furry cushion. But as he approached the leather curtain of the entrance, he heard a clamour coming from outside.

Bodlin was snorting and could not help moving under his unwanted burden. Oderig had tried in vain to keep it still, so as not to wake up the two foreigners, but it was impossible by then to keep control over the unicorn.

"Damn! I must have broken my ribs," exclaimed Algowagh waking up. He had no time to realise where he was. He opened up his eyes and saw that everything was upside down. His temples were pulsing with his heartbeat. He had just spoken those words when Faewal attempted to jump from Bodlin's rump, but someone stopped her and dragged her down by her feet. The same thing happened to Algowagh, who, having just woken up and not being as alert as Faewal was, did not even try to soften the tumble and ended up with his face on the dusty ground.

"Tie them up. Now!" Oderig urged.

Four men suddenly pounced on the two prisoners and tied them up tightly.

"Perfect," said Sara. "So, now that Algowagh is awake, can you please enlighten me with the fine-tuned details of your plan?"

Once he had opened the curtain, Yuk saw the two foreigners tied in the dust and immobilised by two musclemen each, with their knees firmly planted in the prisoners' backs.

Huydai looked from behind his brother's shoulders, and his eyes met Faewal's emerald green ones.
Silence fell upon the village

Silence fell upon the village suddenly. Everybody's gaze was on Yuk, awaiting his decision. "Make them stand," he ordered.

The four men keeping Algowagh and Faewal down promptly obeyed, helping the prisoners to their feet in front of the Head of the village. Murmurs of astonishment rose from the crowd when it became clear that the warrior was, in fact, a woman.

"Who are you?" asked Yuk sharply.

Faewal was about to answer when Algowagh coughed, stopping her, and addressed the audience instead. "My name is Algowagh and she is Faewal. We come from very far away, from a place that you don't know," he started solemnly. "We come in peace."

Yuk studied the foreigner who had just spoken and then the woman. His gaze stopped on the unusually long dagger that had been thrown in the dust near the two. "Peace? So what about those weapons? What about that?" asked he sceptically, pointing at Faewal's sword.

The girl turned immediately towards her weapon and was about to speak for the second time, when Algowagh stopped her again.

"What is he doing? Why doesn't he allow you to speak?" Sara asked.

"I have no idea, but he must have something in mind," Faewal answered half-hiding her perplexity. "I am a good warrior, but I'm not as good with words. And this is not the kind of situation that can be solved with the sword. At least, not as the first attempt."

"Hmm. . ."

"Remember that Algowagh is a wizard."

"Ok. I guess he knows what he's doing. . ."

Everybody was waiting for the answer to Yuk's question. "Those weapons are meant for our defence," answered Algowagh giving to his voice the most obvious tone he could find. "We have the right to defend ourselves, don't we?"

Yuk pondered on the man's words. Of course everybody had the undeniable right to defend himself, but something did not add up. "What do you have to defend you against?" he asked brusquely. "Us? Aren't those weapons meant to attack us instead?"

"Attack you?" Algowagh looked almost indignant. "We would never attack you! But we had to defend ourselves against enemies on our way to your village."

"Did you find someone else on the Baredust Mountains?" interrupted Huydai with a mixture of hope and worry.

Algowagh seemed to hesitate, but his delay was barely perceptible and only Faewal, who knew him well, noticed it.

"Let's see what he's driving at," said Sara, amused.

"He has a plan."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Of course we found them!" Algowagh exclaimed looking at Huydai with a conspiratorial gaze "Those mountains are literally infested by . . . Ducians!"

A loud Oh of astonishment rose from the crowd which was growing bigger and bigger at the ongoing spectacle.

"Ducians?" the two brothers asked simultaneously.

Algowagh studied them for some seconds to better interpret their reaction. So far, so good. They seemed to believe him, so he could continue with that story. "Yes, Ducians," he resumed, lowering his voice as if he feared somebody could hear him from behind the palisade. "Those fearful three-meter tall ogres with yellow eyes."

"Frankly, he's exaggerating now!" Sara commented. If she had not been in Faewal's body, she would have probably dissolved in laughter.

"Shut up!" Faewal warned her. "Listen carefully to what he's saying or we risk contradicting him at the most inopportune moment."

"You risk. I could not, even if I tried my best."

"Good point. Shut up anyway, else I cannot concentrate."

The silence created by Algowagh's story was almost unreal. All eyes were glued to him, and everybody was hanging onto his every word. "Yes," he resumed, trying to interpret the village's reaction. "Three-meters tall and with those skew horns—"

"What's an ogre?" asked suddenly a little boy.

Algowagh, who was trying his best to make his description frightening, was floored. He looked at Faewal in search of help. She gave him an unequivocal gaze, and he finally let her speak. "An ogre is a very tall monster," she started, addressing the little boy and gesturing to make her words exaggeratedly horrible. "With black skew horns and long and sharp nails. Like swords—"

The entire village was speechless, but it was more due to the fact that a woman was speaking so freely in public, than to what Faewal was actually saying.

"What's a sword?" the same little boy asked.

"A sword?!" Now it was Faewal's turn to be floored. A sword is a sword! She searched quickly for an alternative. "Sharp like a knife!"

Sara had a burst of laughter. "Sure. I guess these savages eat every day with fork and knife!"

The boy kept looking at Faewal with a questioning expression. He clearly had not the faintest idea what a knife was. "Sharp like . . . a dagger?" Faewal made her last attempt, not very much convinced, but a confirming Ah rose from the crowd eventually.

"Let him speak!" a fat man shouted suddenly.

Annoyed, Faewal turned in the direction of the voice, trying to identify the man who spoke. "I'm perfectly capable of speaking myself," she said to the crowd, offended.

"Yes, let the man speak!" a lanky man with a long beard shouted, as if he had not heard her last words.

Faewal's eyes flashed hot with indignation. She opened her mouth to speak, but Algowagh stopped her for the third time. "Let me do it," he murmured. "They don't seem exactly gender-balanced."

Faewal stared open-mouthed. "Primitives," she hissed.

"Our people are not like yours," started Algowagh, raising his voice so that everybody could hear him well. "As I just said, we come from very far away—"

"From behind the Baredust Mountains," Huydai interrupted once more, so obsessed by his personal quest that he did not realise the value of the suggestion he was giving.

"Well, yes, from behind them. There, where the gods live. . ." Algowagh tested his audience's reaction, which was another amazed Oh.

"I knew it," said Huydai to the brother.

"Faewal," Algowagh resumed, pointing at her, "is our princess."But judging from the doubtful faces around him, the word princess was not in their vocabulary either. "She is the daughter of . . . the sun god!" he concluded, holding his breath involuntarily.

"Which one of the two?" asked the same curious little boy.

"Two suns?" murmured Algowagh, a hint of worry in his voice.

"The red one!" helped Faewal, remembering the vision she had had in the palace's garden.

The crowd seemed impressed by such a revelation, and a sort of religious silence fell again upon them all. "So, she is not a mere woman," Algowagh took advantage of it. "But a goddess!"

The quantity of wide open eyes around him confirmed that he made his mark. "As well as a tremendous warrior, not inferior to a man," he concluded.

Nobody dared to speak. At that point the situation was absolutely inappropriate; there were two gods standing right in front of the entire village and trussed up like fowls—of course, Algowagh had surged to a god level automatically.

Yuk was perplexed. On the one hand he did not want to antagonise the gods, but on the other he would have liked to see proof of what he just heard. "Could you," he started, addressing Algowagh. "Could you show me to be a god?"

"But I am not—" the man started, looking at Faewal who gave him a nasty look. "I mean, of course I can!" Algowagh looked around, thinking how to do so. His gaze stopped on his bag full of phials and potions that was too far from him. How he wished he had it over his shoulder! Then, he remembered the emergency potion hidden in his sleeve. Of course it was not so easy with tied hands, but a true god would not have asked to be untied to give proof of his divine powers. "Let's just hope it will be enough," he murmured to himself and turned, throwing what he had managed to slip in his hand as near as possible to Yuk.

A sort of green and red firework exploded in the dust, and after some doubtful cracklings, it transformed into a true fire.

Everybody stared open-mouthed; the foreigner had started a fire without wood or tinder, just with a gesture! It clearly showed that he was a god.

"Untie them immediately!" ordered Yuk, as soon as he was able to speak again.

The four men watching Faewal and Algowagh obeyed instantly and then moved away, bowing respectfully.

"Please, forgive us," said Yuk repentant. "Our village has never been blessed by a god's visit before. Forgive us, please!"And he bowed before the two gods.

"It's amazing," admitted Sara who had been sceptical until then. "He has done it!"

"Never doubt Algowagh. He knows what's what," Faewal replied to Sara, smiling at Algowagh.

"You are a good Head of village," Algowagh started, addressing Yuk. "You are very cautious and take good care of your people. We forgive you. We forgive you for the disrespectful treatment that we received."

Yuk looked at him gratefully. He had never seen a god before, and even if he knew the rumours about himself and Huydai being descendants of the gods, he had never had proof of it, and he did not feel different to the people of the village. But the god standing in front of him was dressed differently, he spoke differently, he lit a fire with a gesture and, most importantly, he was wiser than anybody else. After being carried with such discomfort for so long on the rump of a unicorn, after being tied and thrown in the dust, he was not furious and did not avenge himself on the village. To the contrary, the wise god understood the reason why he, Yuk, the person responsible for these people, had been forced to act in that way. Only a real wise god would not have lost his temper, but actually appreciated what had just happened. Well, he probably did not exactly appreciate it, but he understood, for sure.

Yuk breathed in slowly. The gods were there, in front of him, in his village. He smiled. Then reflected again for a moment. Why?
Why

"Why are you here?" Huydai interjected, anticipating the question that everybody wanted to ask.

All eyes were glued on the two foreigners. Faewal opened her mouth to answer, but Algowagh stopped her by putting his hand on her forearm. Nevertheless he hesitated. He wanted to find the right words, a reasonable excuse to avoid answering the question in public. He did not want to involve the entire village and he knew from his previous studies about the dimension they were in, that people of the village had a very strong sense of community and were accustomed to taking decisions though a consultation process involving them all. He did not want to risk going through such a long consultation process. They had no time to waste.

"We . . . we are here for a very important and delicate matter," he started hesitantly. "We would like to discuss it with you, how might I say, confidentially."

"You don't have to worry," Yuk reassured him with a naïve smile. "I completely trust my people."

Algowagh sighed.

"What an idiot!" Sara exclaimed. "Even I understood what Algowagh wants."

"Indeed," Faewal agreed. "We should find a way to help him."

"Faint!" said Sara after some seconds.

"What?"

"Faint. Go down. It will distract everybody from the answer they are waiting for."

"I'm afraid, I can't."

"Why not?"

"I am a warrior. Warriors don't faint."

"Come on, Faewal. I would faint if only I had a body. You are the only one who can do it."

"No."

"No? So you know what? Tell Algowagh to faint. But please, be very clear and say it in a very loud voice so that he understands well. So that everybody understands well."

"Just think of something else," Faewal said flatly.

"What am I? A think-tank? Go down and faint. Now." Sara was seriously upset.

"But, I am—"

"I said now!"

Faewal sighed heavily, and that caught Algowagh's attention. He moved his eyes towards the girl without turning his head, truly hoping for some help. Faewal coughed slightly, looked down and put one palm on her forehead, in a very clumsy way. "I'm not feeling . . . I'm not feeling," she started with clear difficulties.

"I feel dizzy," Sara suggested.

"I mean, I do feel something . . . I feel like . . . I'm dizzy. . ."

Algowagh understood her intentions immediately. He was the only one around who knew her, and he knew that she would have never complained about her physical status, and even less about something as small as feeling dizzy. But luckily, he was the only one who knew this. "Faewal!" he exclaimed exaggerating his worry. "Oh dear, what is it?"

She gave him a miserable look, more similar to a request of help than to an offer. Algowagh moved towards her and held her as if to support her weight. "Thanks," he whispered, winking. Faewal rolled her eyes, then closed them and pretended to faint in Algowagh's arms. "Please help me," urged the man. "I need help!"

Everything happened too quickly for the people of the village. The novelty of foreigners inside their village, the discovery that they were gods, the magic of the fire starting without wood and now the sun's daughter fainting. They were all petrified. Yuk was the first one to wake up from that odd trance. "Bring them water," he ordered. "Prepare that tent and bring them in there. Move!"

The spell was broken. Some men entered the tent that Yuk just indicated and arranged some grey furs on the ground in order to make comfortable beds for the gods. Two children fetched a big wooden bowl full of water and some pieces of leather and left them inside the tent, as two tall yet muscled men helped Algowagh set Faewal's body gently onto the furs. Then, finally, a small fire was prepared just in front of the tent entrance.

Once Faewal was laid down on what was supposed to be her bed, Algowagh sat on the other one with the big wooden bowl on his legs and soaked a piece of leather into the water."She has to rest," he said, putting the wet leather gently on the girl's forehead.

Yuk was standing at the entrance of the tent and looked very worried. "Absolutely," he agreed. "I hope she will recover soon."

"She will. She only needs to rest," Algowagh reassured him. "Our trip was long and not easy."

"I see." Yuk could not figure out neither the length nor the difficulty of their trip, but pretended to understand what the god was saying. "Please don't hesitate to ask for anything you may need. At any time. A man will be just outside your tent tonight."

"It's not necessary—"

"I insist." Yuk's tone did not leave any room for discussion. He turned his back and lifted the leather strip covering the entrance. "Sleep well, and see you tomorrow morning," he said exiting the tent and dropping the leather that closed immediately behind him.

"You can open your eyes now," Algowagh whispered into Faewal's ear after few seconds. "But don't speak loudly. Somebody has been stationed right outside our tent."

The girl opened her eyes and remained still, looking at Algowagh through the darkness of the tent.

"Bravo! Brilliant idea," he smiled.

"It wasn't mine."

Algowagh lifted an eyebrow. "Well, bravo to Sara, then."He moved the wooden bowl from his legs and put it on the ground, then rose, and with a finger on his mouth, motioned Faewal to remain silent. He approached the entrance and moved the leather strip slightly to go out. A bearded and stocky man sat next to the fire, his shoulders to the tent entrance. Algowagh approached silently and tried to see the man's face. The man was dozing. It was actually deep night for the people of the village and they all were very tired after a hard working day. Good, Algowagh thought, going back stealthily inside the tent. "The sentinel sleeps," he announced in a low voice to Faewal. "But it is better to be prudent."

The girl nodded and sat up on the grey fur bed. The light inside the tent had become extremely weak, but it was enough to mark Faewal and Algowagh's positions. "So," he started, sitting on his bed, "we have to find a way to speak with the two brothers in private."

"Right," she agreed. "But it seems quite difficult, doesn't it?"

"Indeed. We have to catch them away from the others and speak with them when they don't expect it."

Sara could not follow the conversation; she knew they needed one of the two brothers, but she was clearly missing some piece of information. "What's so difficult in going to the right brother and telling him forthright that we need him and that he has to come with us to the city of Fjunur?" she asked suddenly.

"We don't know which one of the two is the right one," Faewal answered distractedly.

"Are you serious?" Sara wondered. "We came here through a dimensional crossing that my body cannot bear, and that is incidentally the reason why I don't have a body any more and why I cannot move or speak whenever it pleases me—"

"It seems to me you are more than free to speak whenever it pleases you," Faewal commented, but this did not stop Sara.

"We were trussed up like fowls and we had to tell all sorts of lies to be untied. My understanding was that we were supposed to quickly stop here to pick up our fourth mate, then go as fast as possible to the city of Fjunur, face a monstrous guard, of which I don't even remember the name, in an extremely hard battle, and then probably discover that to re-write history is not as simple as you imagined. I said you, because as far as I am concerned I don't have the faintest idea of how simple or complicated it is to re-write history. All this, while the Spatial-Temporal Abyss is happily producing unexpected dynamics that can still take us by surprise. Once more, I'm afraid, I don't have the faintest idea what this means. And now you, coming from one of the most evolutionarily advanced dimensions of the System, because fifteen is pretty advanced, isn't it? You, a capable wizard and an unbeatable amazon, you are mumbling in the darkness of a tent about how best to guess who is our man? Please tell me you are not serious. Please."

Faewal sighed heavily. "We have to involve her more," she said to Algowagh.

"Her who?" he asked confused.

"Sara."

"What's wrong with Sara now?"

"She has some issues."

"Issues?" Algowagh puzzled.

"She doesn't fully understand."

"Of course she doesn't. All this must be terribly complicated for her, but she doesn't have to worry. We will sort everything out."

"That's the point, Algowagh. We don't seem exactly able to sort everything out."

"What do you mean by we don't seem able to sort everything out?" his voice had a pinch of indignation.

"We don't . . . we don't even know who is the right brother, do we?"

Algowagh opened his mouth automatically, but no sound came out. Faewal was right. Both the girls were right. "It is not easy to study beings from another dimension, you have to understand that," he started as if to justify his failure. "Even backed by all the magic knowledge we have, there is a limit to the incursions we can do into other dimensions. Incursions that are very risky and always on the edge of breaching some Law."

"Those Laws again! It seems everything always ends in a Law!" said Sara impatiently.

"The System is ruled by Laws. It's normal," Faewal replied flatly.

"It so happens that I'm allergic to the rules."

"It seems so, indeed."

"Anyway, let me briefly tell you what I found out before coming to this dimension," continued Algowagh, not aware of the conversation between the two girls. "This dimension, which is the OneThousandEightHundredSeventh, is quite backward. Beings belonging to this dimension, for example, have not discovered metals, as you can see from their stone weapons, or have no idea what fabrics and fibres are. That's their evolutionary level, and it is a fact that we simply have to acknowledge. They also have a very blind worship. They believe nature is a goddess and all natural forces are gods. That is why it was so easy to make them change their mind by telling them that Faewal is the sun's daughter."Algowagh paused and breathed deeply.

"Still the problem is there. We have no clue as to which of the two brothers is the right one and we don't have all the time in the world," commented Sara.

Faewal did not reply, but kept looking in Algowagh's direction through the darkness.

"The brothers," resumed Algowagh. "They are very different, not only somatically from the people of the village, but also character-wise from each other. The somatic difference shows that they are not of the same ethnic group, which confirms what I studied before starting our journey, but that is not really of use for our purposes. But the second difference is more interesting, as their respective characters can be the key to use to lever the one we need and persuade him to join us. The older one seems so integrated in the village that he is actually the Head of it, and he pays his trust back by being extremely scrupulous and careful towards the people's well-being. On the other hand, the young one seems not to value the village as much as his brother, if at all, but rather to be attracted by those mountains. . ."

"The Baredust Mountains." Faewal helped him.

"Right, the Baredust Mountains, which are somehow connected with their origin. In both cases, we have to use a little of psychology to persuade the right one to join us, or we cannot continue our journey to Fjunur, face Pichros and find out why Sildariel had not been able to sort all this out by himself."

"Sil-da-ri-el?" Sara syllabised with the annoyed tone of somebody who could not stand any more surprises.

"Yes, Sildariel. Fjunur's Lord," Faewal answered automatically, but realised immediately that they never mentioned him to Sara. "Wait a moment," she then interrupted Algowagh. "We have never spoken about Sildariel with Sara."

The man pondered on her words. It was true; even though he had explained the entire System's structure to Sara, he had never mentioned Sildariel.
Sildariel

"Sildariel is the Lord of the city of Fjunur," Algowagh started to explain. "As we have said already, Fjunur is the First Dimension, the most evolved, and actually the heart of the System itself. It is also a peculiar dimension. All others could be described as universes, if you remember what I told you when we first met, but the First is not at all a universe with planets, stars and everything you would normally find in a universe. Indeed, what you would find in the First Dimension is the city of Fjunur and its surroundings. Just this. Though, it is endless. You would never imagine it, but, believe me, you could walk for hours, days, years and even your entire life in the city's narrow streets, without ever walking in the same spot twice. Nothing is as it appears in the city of Fjunur, and you would never say that such a tidy little town has no edges. Nobody other than Sildariel lives in the city of Fjunur, while the second of the only two living beings of the First Dimension is forbidden to enter the city, its only task being to protect it. The second living being of the First Dimension is Pichros, the unbeatable guard. Sildariel lives in the tall and thin tower rising in the middle of the city and never goes out of it, as his task, his only and utterly important task, is to protect the Books of Worlds that are kept in the tower. This is the heart of the System. The Books are the heart of the System, because History is written in them, and without History the System cannot exist, exactly like a body without its heart. The System's History is the sum of all Dimensions' histories and it is made not only of past events, but also present and future ones which are continuously written in the Books."Algowagh paused and took a deep breath. "Imagine an empty book, whose blank pages start being filled with words, continuously, until the last one. Imagine more books, one after the other being written from the first to the last page. It is History. Of each Dimension. History of the System as a whole. History of all of us."

"Who writes History?" Sara asked after a while. "Is it Sildariel who does it?"

"Sara is asking who writes the System's History," Faewal reported in a low voice to Algowagh, "and whether is it Sildariel's task to do it."

"Nobody writes History," the man answered. "History writes itself as living beings from all dimensions act, take decisions and make choices. Every single act of every single living being is recorded in the Books at the exact moment it happens, at the exact moment every living being decides to act or chooses not to act. The most delicate and precious component of the entire System is its History, the sum of all histories that is the result of all decisions and acts of all living beings. Those decisions and acts that we all make. History, such a delicate and precious thing, is kept in the tower of the city of Fjunur, under the custody of Sildariel, the most ever powerful wizard of the entire System, and protected by Pichros, the unbeatable guard. Not to mention the fact that the First Dimension, as all Dimensions, is protected by the Second Law of the System—"

"I think you are going too far, Algowagh. It will confuse her," Faewal intervened.

And it was true; that amount of information was already more than what Sara could bear. The image of Pichros, whom Sara of course had never seen, but only imagined in her own way, came to her together with the knowledge of it being unbeatable, and none of those thoughts reassured her. Nevertheless, she wanted to contribute to the discussion. She wanted to help. She felt that she belonged to the team and wanted to do her part. "Can Sildariel be dead?" she asked, after a little reflection on Algowagh's words.

Faewal pondered for a few seconds before reporting Sara's question to the man. She had never seen Sildariel, of course, as anyone else in the entire System, but she had a vivid image of him, ever since the first time Sapiens Universalis had spoken about Sildariel to her. She had been just a little girl, but being the King's daughter, she had to be treated like an adult even if she was not one, and thus she had to know very early how the System worked in all its details. Nevertheless, for not scaring her with difficult concepts such as eternity, Sapiens Universalis had told her that Sildariel was an extremely old wizard. "No, he can't," she finally answered in a low voice so that Algowagh too could hear her. "Sara asks whether Sildariel can be dead," she then explained to the man, "but he cannot, of course, because, in the first place, he's immortal, and, in the second, he is a powerful wizard, the most ever powerful wizard in the entire System."

Sara sensed something strange, but she could not tell whether it was due to the special contact she had with Faewal or simply to a slightly different tone in her host's voice. "You are not telling me everything, aren't you?" she asked.

Faewal sighed and addressed Algowagh. "Shall I tell her everything?"

"Well, we have nothing to lose, after all," he replied.

The girl breathed in deeply and resumed her explanation. "Sildariel is said to be the most ever powerful wizard in the entire System, but to tell the truth, nobody has ever seen proof of it. No-one has ever been in a situation like the one we are in now, and nobody has ever reported a battle of magic between Sildariel and any other wizard."

"The point is," Algowagh took the floor, "that nobody has ever come back from Fjunur to report having had a confrontation with Pichros or Sildariel. But the mere fact that Sildariel belongs to the First Dimension, the most evolutionarily advanced, is proof that he is the most powerful wizard in the entire System."

"That's pretty theoretical," Sara commented.

"That's the rule," Faewal replied.

"Of course," Sara agreed, with an ironic pitch. "But let me recap, if I may. Sildariel is not dead because he's immortal, thus he cannot die a natural death. And he's the most powerful, the rule said, so there's no wizard who can beat him, thus he cannot even be killed. Hence, he's alive. But he didn't stop the Spatial-Temporal Abyss from doing what it is doing, even if his only task in life is to protect the Books. Is it all correct up to here?"

"Yes." Faewal could see the direction in which Sara's reasoning was leading and did not like it.

"The only thought that comes to my mind then is that our friend Sildariel is not really a friend of ours but of the Abyss. It seems to me that if Sildariel is as powerful as the legend said, there is no reason why he shouldn't have stopped the Abyss, unless he wants the Abyss to do what it is doing. Even more, what if the Abyss is not just an unfortunate case, but rather something planned? What if Sildariel generated it for his own purposes?"

Sara's questions echoed in Faewal's mind and gave her a shiver down the spine, leaving her silent, as if it was a sin to repeat those words."This is absolutely the most idiotic and absurd theory I've ever heard!" she finally replied, without paying attention to the volume of her voice.

"Sh!" Algowagh urged. "You are going to wake up the sentinel. Which theory are you speaking about?"

Before Faewal could say a word, they all heard some footsteps outside the tent. "Is everything all right there?" the sentinel asked with a sleepy voice.

"Yes, yes, everything is fine," Algowagh hurried to answer. "Faewal woke up. She must have had a nightmare, but she's fine."

"A what?" the man asked. "Is there an animal in the tent?"

"No, no, only a bad dream."

"Does this dream walk? Did it bite you or what?"

Oh goodness, Sara thought.

"Everything is fine. Thanks. And goodnight," Algowagh greeted, closing the discussion. "What happened?" he then asked in a low voice, once the noise of the man walking back to the fire had ceased.

"Nothing. Nothing important," Faewal minimised.

"Why don't you tell him?" Sara asked.

"Because it simply doesn't make sense."

Sara was quite deceived. She found that she had been good in formulating such a theory and that she could be useful to the group by contributing as much as Faewal or Algowagh. Her brain was working well, and she was proud of that, considering that she was the less evolutionarily advanced of the group. But Faewal did not even repeat her theory to Algowagh. She had not valued it at all. It was so frustrating not to have a body, but being forced into Faewal's who was filtering her every word. How she would have loved to have her body at that moment! Even if she would probably have died after only two dimensional crossings. Or at least this is what the rules said.
The day dawned

The day dawned. Sunlight filtered through the seams of the tent's leather walls, as well as the sounds of the village waking up.

"Good morning, Dithlop. How was the night?" Yuk's voice resounded from outside.

"Good morning. Everything was very calm, and the gods slept well, I think, apart from an animal that disturbed the red sun god's daughter, but I understood it wasn't such a serious matter," the sentinel replied.

"An animal? I will investigate further, thanks for reporting." Yuk lowered his voice, "are they still sleeping?"

"I think so. I haven't heard any sound from the tent until now."

Faewal turned her head towards Algowagh's bed. He was lying on his grey fur, looking upwards. He turned his head in her direction and met her eyes. "Hi," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

She had not, really. Sara's last words had not allowed her to sleep much, if at all, but as she had refused to repeat Sara's questions to Algowagh the night before, she did not want to raise the issue now."Yes. Very well," she lied.

"Good. Let's try to find the right moment to speak with the brothers today," said Algowagh, standing up and heading towards the tent entrance. He lifted the piece of leather covering it and looked outside. "Good morning," he greeted Yuk and, with a gesture, he invited him to enter the tent.

"Good day to you! I hope you had a good night and you are well rested this morning," said Yuk, following the man inside.

"We are much better, thanks. Aren't we, Faewal?"

The girl was stretching. She turned round to face the two men and smiled kindly. "Much better," she confirmed.

"I guess you must be hungry now," said Yuk.

Faewal and Algowagh looked at each other. The dimensional crossing took a lot of energy away, and eating was not at all a bad idea. Not to mention the fact that breakfast was the opportunity they were looking for. "You are right," the girl replied. "Breakfast is a very good idea."

"Perfect!" Yuk seemed happy. "Please, follow me to my dwelling and you will find what you need to fill your stomachs with."

"Cereals? Chocolate cake?" Sara asked, her mouth watering.

"Diwha, my wife, has prepared a delicious roasted warthog," Yuk concluded proudly. "To enjoy with sour goat milk, of course!"

Faewal could not help smirking, hearing no more comments from Sara's side. Then, she followed Yuk and Algowagh outside the tent.

The village was in the middle of its daily preparations. Men were organising their bows and arrows for hunting, while, inside the tents, women were taking care of all sorts of household matters. As soon as the two gods came out of their tent, everybody stopped all activities to follow them with their eyes, but as Yuk's stilt house was just next to the tent they slept in, Faewal and Algowagh did not have to walk for long. Yuk climbed the three-rung ladder giving access to his dwelling and, with a welcoming gesture, lifted the piece of leather covering the entrance.

The inside of the stilt house looked bigger than expected. It was a bright and square space, with walls made out of wooden poles and two rows of three bigger poles each, which divided the room into three sections. The ceiling was made out of leather, and the outside decorations were partially visible from inside, where the leather was thinner. Apart from the wall where the entrance was, the remaining three were occupied by a big window each. Windows were simple square-shaped holes, with no protections, except for a thin, blue curtain made out of plaited blades of grass. At the far end of the room, there was a big bed made out of grey fur, and a little wooden cradle. A triangle of green stones, almost completely covered by ashes, was in the middle of the room, and next to it, there was a small, low table with a wooden bowl full of pieces of roasted meat, and a sort of vase, made out of wood as well, containing a yellowish liquid. Four little bowls were piled up next to the vase, and four grey furry cushions had been arranged around the little table. With a baby in her arms, a young woman was standing not far from the stone triangle, smiling kindly as if to welcome her guests, but as soon as her hospitality task was accomplished, she moved back towards the furry bed and sat on it. Next to a window, Huydai was leaning against a wall, looking thoughtfully at the sky. As soon as the three entered the house, he turned towards them and nodded.

"Please, have a seat," Yuk invited. "We are honoured to have you here and very pleased to share our food with you. Huydai, come here and join us."

The brother moved silently towards the little table, his gaze fixed on the two gods. He reached for one of the furry cushions and sat on it, crossing his legs, everyone else following his example. Without asking whether they wanted it, Yuk poured some of the yellowish liquid into the little wooden bowls and handed one to each of his guests. Then, he invited them to take a piece of roasted meat from the big bowl in the middle of the table.

"I can't eat this for breakfast! It's against my genes," whined Sara. "They should have at least some fruit. Please, ask them. . ."

"It would be impolite to refuse such a lavish banquet," replied Faewal, amused.

"Lavish for who?" Sara protested, repressing a feeling of nausea.

For an endless minute they all ate in silence, then Huydai spoke. "How far from the village are those Ducians?" he asked.

Algowagh was drinking his sour milk. He slowly put the bowl on the table and cleared his throat. "They are . . . well, we met them on the mountains. Quite high." He coughed again and ventured, "it should be three walking-days from here."

"Three days only?" Huydai stared at him, impressed.

"Three, maybe four. We stopped several times along the road, and I'm not sure about how many full walking-days it could have been."Clearly, Algowagh had no idea how far the mountains were from the village. He tried to recover lost ground, but it was evident that, whether three or four, the number of days was inadequate to cover the distance between the Baredust Mountains and the village on foot. Nevertheless, he could not change his figures at that point, so he tried to reduce the importance of the matter. "Anyway, I don't think they actually live there," he said. "They were only a few in number, and there was no sign of villages around. I rather think they were moving, as if to explore the area."

"They could have approached the village in the meantime," interrupted Yuk, worried. "They could be a threat to us."

"I didn't get the impression they were moving towards the prairie," Faewal intervened, "but rather in the opposite direction. They seemed to want to go to the other side of the mountains."

"They don't live in the prairie or on this side of the Baredust Mountains," Huydai asserted. "I know the area inch by inch, and I can assure you that nobody lives there, not even the . . . what's their name again?"

"Ducians," Algowagh helped him.

"No, the other name. Ochre? Okra?"

"Ogre," Faewal sighed.

"Right, ogre! I have never met an ogre before—"

"Ducians are not the point," Algowagh made an attempt to distract the attention and bring it to the reason of their presence in Dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven. "There are far more important things to discuss."He said it with a very serious expression and addressing the two brothers who stopped eating and stared at him for some seconds. "We are here for a very precise reason, and we crossed the Baredust Mountains for a matter of vital importance."

"Let me call the village," said Yuk, making a sign as to stand up, but Algowagh stopped him promptly.

"To call the village is not our first priority now. Please, let me continue. You will inform them later." Algowagh's tone was kind, but firm enough to make it clear that there was no room for objections. "The gods need your help. We need the most valorous warrior in this village to accomplish the most important mission in the world."

Yuk and Huydai become even more serious than before, if possible.

"You two are different from the rest of the village," said Algowagh solemnly.

"These are our people," Yuk contradicted him.

"You are right," confirmed Huydai instead. "We don't belong to this village. We come from the Baredust Mountains too."

Algowagh nodded with a wise expression. Yuk was about to stop the brother, but something in Algowagh's eyes told him that this time it was different. This time there was something deeper.

"People of this village found us on the Baredust Mountains when we were very small," Huydai continued. "We got lost there—"

"We were abandoned there," Yuk specified.

"We got lost. Our people lost us during a snowstorm," the brother reaffirmed with a challenging light in his eyes. "People of this village saved us, but we never found our people again. Sadly, we know very little about our origins, but I'm trying my best to discover more."

"It is not by chance that we are here, now, talking to you." Algowagh had a conspiratorial tone. "We need one of you to join us in an extremely important mission."

"One of us?" repeated the brothers in unison.

Algowagh and Faewal exchanged a quick glance.

"We need a third person to come with us. We know that both of you are valiant warriors, skilful with weapons and undoubtedly courageous, but only one of you is needed for this mission, because," he glanced around, and his gaze fell on Diwha and the baby she was holding."Because if you are in this village, it is by the gods' will. Because the gods decided that you had to be lost by your people and found by these people instead, so that you became these people's defenders."

Yuk turned instinctively towards his wife and son and felt a pang in his heart at the idea that he could be the one destined to join the gods in their mission. But if that was the gods' will, he could not object—he knew that well. On the other hand, Huydai started daydreaming about following the gods to face horrible and powerful enemies, to beat them and to become a hero, acclaimed by everyone and kissed by the gods for what he had done. And perhaps, hugging his real father and mother again—and maybe some brother or sister—all with the same dark complexion and the same shining raven-black hair that he and Yuk had.

"Which one of us?" Yuk asked point-blankly.

"We'll have to test both of you," Faewal answered. "You'll have to prove your valour and courage, and I will make the final decision."

Huydai seemed to wake up abruptly from his daydreaming. "You will judge us?" he asked astonished.

"Huydai!" his brother rebuked him. "She is a goddess," he whispered.

Huydai could not believe that a woman would be able to tell the valour of a warrior, even if she was a goddess. A woman simply could not understand the art of combat. It was a law of nature.

"I know it's not easy for you to understand," Algowagh started with a patient voice. "But you must believe me, Faewal is an extraordinary warrior. She is the Head of our army and, for years, she has been leading it successfully through all battles against the Elves."

"Against who?" asked Huydai sceptically.

"Elves," repeated Algowagh. "Creatures that you have never met, but, believe me, merciless and bloodthirsty, ready to do anything to conquer territories and expand their domination."

"Are Elves so bad?" asked Sara who had a vague idea of little and harmless creatures living in perfect harmony with Mother Nature.

"Not so bad," Faewal admitted. "Algowagh is exaggerating. But they are not the salt of the earth either!" She then resumed her explanation to the brothers. "We will organise a tournament. There will be competitions to test your ability with different weapons."

Both brothers nodded seriously, but it was clear that neither of them knew what a tournament was.

"I will need some time to organise things properly, and you will have to train with weapons that you don't know," she continued, touching the bag she had brought with her from Dimension Fifteen. "I need to arrange a large space for the tournament. I guess I will find more options outside the village. . ."

"How big is the space you need?" asked Yuk.

"I need a space where a horse can easily run. Or a unicorn," she said, remembering Bodlin.

"A unicorn runs infinitely faster than a horse! If you want to use Bodlin, you will need a very large space," said Huydai.

"Fine. So, how many unicorns do you have?" She started figuring out the tournament.

The brothers exchanged a puzzled glance.

"How many? Bodlin only! It is the last one on earth," replied Huydai.

"Ah," she reacted surprised. "And how many horses do you have?"

"Horses, as many as you want," Yuk replied.

"Good. This means the tournament will be done with horses!"

"Perfect," Yuk seemed happy. "I will ask some of my men to be available in case you need help. I think we can organise the tournament in the main square, just here in front of my dwelling. Do you think is a large enough space?"

"Let me check. I just need to have a glance at it from outside here," Faewal answered putting her bowl on the table and standing up. "I'm also curious to see the weapons you normally use."

"Of course," said Huydai, standing up in turn. "I can help you with this."

"I will go back to the tent instead, and check whether everything is ok with the content of my bag. I hope nothing has been broken during the dimens . . . er . . . the trip," said Algowagh who, more than the dimensional crossing, was fearful that the trip on Bodlin's rump could have damaged the delicate phials and flasks he had brought with him for the mission.

They all exited the stilt house, nodding at Diwha who approached to greet them silently and immediately started cleaning up the little table.

"Let me go and fetch my weapons," said Huydai to Faewal. "Then I can show you how we use them."

Faewal nodded and looked at the main square of which she had the best view from the narrow balcony surrounding the stilt house. The space was large enough to host all competitions she wanted the two brothers to take part in. The only thing she did not like at all—and that was uselessly occupying the space, she thought—was a construction, on a side, with three enormous chairs and a funny totem on it."Can it be moved?" she asked, pointing at it.

Yuk was taken aback. "The Council's Site?" he asked, wondering. "Do you want to move the Council's Site?"

"Yes. But then we will move it back exactly where and how it is. You won't notice the difference. I promise," she reassured him. "Alternatively, we can have the tournament outside the palisade. . ."

Yuk pondered for some seconds. The Council's Site—the rusty-coloured wooden platform with its three chairs covered with leather and its carved totem painted in red, blue and yellow—was the mark of the village. It was the place where the Head and the two oldest councillors sat when the village was convened. Tents could change their position within the village, they could be dismissed or built from scratch, but the Council's Site, together with the Head's stilt house, were the first constructions of the village, and they had never changed their position before. On the other hand, to arrange for the tournament—whatever it was—outside the palisade, meant exposing people to external threats. Threats which had never occurred before, but a good Head is never too prudent, Yuk thought. The only solution was to move the Council's Site. Faewal promised that it would be moved back exactly where and how it was. And Faewal was the red sun's daughter, thus it was the god's will. "You can move it," he finally replied. "It's not a problem."
All gazes

All gazes were on Faewal walking throughout the main square, measuring it with big steps. Everybody was hypnotised by that woman, with her long red ponytail and dressed in such different and beautiful clothes, so busy going up and down with no apparent reason. That strange warrior woman was the red sun god's daughter. She was a goddess. How different gods were from men!

From the balcony of the stilt house, Yuk too was staring at Faewal. His hands behind his back and his long, raven-black hair tight, he was observing the goddess walking and his people looking at her with such curiosity. How much he loved his people! He was a happy man and could not have asked for more than looking after these people, protecting them and ensuring that their lives were happy and in harmony with nature. But now the gods could take all this away from him, only by asking him to depart on an obscure mission and leave his people without their Head—and his young wife and newborn son without a husband and a father. He would have to obey, no questions about it. He would have had to face enemies, real enemies and not just wild beasts, although wild beasts could be very dangerous and frightening, like the ones that recently attacked a group of people from the village. They had a red and green striped fur, eyes like blood, and extremely long, yellow tusks dripping sticky drool. All of a sudden, they had attacked the group and had torn two of his men in pieces, hurling what remained of them all around the blue prairie. Those wild beasts were the nearest thing to evil that he had ever met. He had seen real hate in their blood-soaked eyes, a destructive ferocity that he could have never imagined from inside the safe and protecting palisade surrounding the village. The two gods did not explain who enemies were, least of all what the aim of the mission was. They spoke about Ducians, the dangerous ogres, and Elves, another hostile and bloodthirsty population, both of whom he had never met. How many fierce people were there outside the village? How many enemies, whose existence he was ignoring, should he have to face if he was the chosen one? If he won the tournament . . .

Yuk lowered his gaze and saw Huydai heading towards Faewal with a big quiver full of arrows. If he did not win the tournament, his brother would have had to face all those fierce enemies. His young and reckless brother. He felt like a coward. The idea of facing such unknown enemies seemed to suck all courage from him and leave only a sense of helplessness in exchange. It was as if he was facing his own limits. He was able to protect an entire village, but, looking at Huydai, he clearly felt that he was not able to protect his own brother, the only person with whom he shared his origins. He felt torn apart. Whatever the result would be, there was a crossroads ahead—leave the village and everything he cared about the most in the world, or lose his brother, the only person with the same blood in his veins. In both cases, nothing would ever be the same again.

He sensed a light touch on his back, a delicate caress. Diwha was reaching out her arm to touch him, while remaining hidden behind the entrance curtain. He turned and went inside the dwelling to hold her tight. They stayed in silence for a while, listening to the sound of their own breaths and the voices of the village coming from outside, then Yuk stepped slightly back from his wife, to look in her eyes. They were glistening, but she was not crying, and her lips revealed the same sweet smile he had fallen in love with a long time ago—the same sweet smile he came back to every evening, and the last thing his eyes saw before falling asleep each night. He sighed out loud and hugged her again.

With the quiver full of arrows on his shoulder and two daggers hanging at his belt, Huydai reached Faewal who was busy in measurements and calculations. "Here I am," he said, leaving the quiver to fall on the ground. "These are our weapons."

Few arrows came out. They consisted of two wooden sticks—one straight and one bowed—both ending with a green stone point. The straight stick was thicker and its point was very normal in shape, while the arched one was thinner and its point looked like a crab's claw. The two sticks were kept together at both ends by a sort of dense and translucent glue.

Faewal looked at them puzzled, wondering how such arrows could hit any target. Then, her gaze moved on the two daggers hanging at Huydai's belt. Their hilts were made out of a dark and finely carved wood, while the blades were of stone, so well refined that it resembled opaque metal. Some thin, red and yellow signs had been drawn on the blades' portion nearest the hilt, while, towards the point, there were some stains—blood, probably—looking very old. The blade and hilt were kept together by thin and tight leather strips.

"We use arrows and daggers," Huydai started. "First we stun the warthogs with the arrows, and then we kill them with the daggers."

Simple and effective, Faewal thought. What else should they use weapons for, considering that they had never met anyone else? "I would like to see how you use them," she asked. "We use arrows as well, but they are very different from yours."She took some steps towards the bag that she had left not very far away and extracted her sword. "This is a sword," she said, approaching Huydai again.

"Sharp like swords," he murmured, remembering the description that Faewal gave of the Ducians the night before. He moved his hand towards the blade and touched it lightly.

"You may hold it," she held the sword out. "But be careful, it's very sharp."

Huydai clasped the hilt and observed it carefully. It was made out of a bright material, finely wrought, and covered with stones that seemed to have been trapped inside it. Of course, he remembered well how sharp the blade was, his wounded finger still wrapped with the leather strip. "This material is very heavy," he said. "Your sword seems difficult to handle."

"It is made out of an iron alloy. A metal," she explained.

"Metal," he repeated as to memorise it. "Where do you find it?"

"It can be found in rocks."

"But it doesn't look like a rock," he commented sceptically.

"Of course not. Iron is extracted from rocks and then used to make weapons like this one."

"Extracted?"

"We take it out of the rocks."

"How do you take it out? Do you break the rocks? Is there something harder than a rock to break it with?"

"We don't break the rocks. We heat them, iron melts, and we only have to collect it."

"Do you mean that it is possible to melt your sword on the fire?" he asked, quite astonished.

"Well, in principle, yes. But it is not as simple as that. You need a very intense fire."

"If I may," Sara intervened. "Isn't it against some Law to explain so much to him?"

"I need to give him some explanation," Faewal justified herself. "He will be asked to use a bunch of new weapons, and I want him to understand as much as possible. And in any case, he is about to enter the city of Fjunur against the System's Supreme Law—"

"Against what?"

"The System's Supreme Law," Faewal repeated slowly. "Which says that no being belonging to a Dimension other than the First can access the city of Fjunur."

Sara pondered a few seconds. "Which one of us belongs to the First Dimension?" she asked abruptly.

"No-one."

"So, what are we trying to do, exactly?"

"Accomplish the mission."

"By entering the city of Fjunur."

"Obviously!"

"It means that all of us will breach the whatever Law you just mentioned!"

"Well, we have no choice."

"Are we trying to breach all possible Laws of this bloody System?" Sara was getting nervous. "Maybe, there will be consequences, don't you think?"

"Sara," Faewal started patiently. "We really have no choice. We have to do something or we will all disappear, together with the System. At this point it is not so relevant how many Laws we breach. What is important is to re-write the Norman's history as soon as possible and stop the Spatial-Temporal Abyss. We will worry about the rest later."

Sara did not argue further. Everything seemed too tangled to her, and much bigger than what she could understand. But she did not feel very much reassured by Faewal's answer either.

"What about these stones?" asked Huydai, forcing Faewal to concentrate her attention on him.

"These are magic stones—I mean, divine," she rectified and pointed at a small purple stone set in the hilt. "They all have different proprieties. This one increases the physical resistance of the person gripping the sword and protects him against his adversary's strokes."

Huydai was all ears.

"This other one," she continued, pointing at a light green stone, "makes the sword itself more resistant, so that it cannot be scratched by harder metals. And finally, this yellow one must be used together with the right spell to make the person gripping the sword invisible."

"The spell?" Huydai puzzled.

"I'll show you later," she cut it short. "Let me show you something else, now."

Huydai seemed disappointed by her answer, but his attention was immediately grabbed by another strange object.

"This is a spiked flail," she explained.

"Spiked flail," he repeated slowly.

"You must hold the haft this way," she continued, showing him how to do, "and rotate the spiked ball at the end of the chain."

"What for?"

"To beat your enemies or destroy obstacles." She hit a rock that was sticking out of the ground. The rock was shattered, leaving Huydai staring speechlessly at the hole produced by the new weapon. "Anyway," she resumed, "I think it's better to show you how to use all our weapons when Yuk will be with us. Now it would be better for me to see how you use your weapons."

"Absolutely! Let's go outside the village so that I can show you how we use our arrows. We need a lot of space and warthogs, of course!" he replied, moving towards a line of wooden poles, sunk in the ground next to the stilt house, where some horses had been fastened to. "Let's take two horses. Bodlin is too fast, and you wouldn't be able to follow me."He unfastened the bridles of a wonderful tawny horse and passed them to Faewal. "Take Ghuw," he said, approaching a white animal. "I'll take Xyl."

"Are you going out?" asked Yuk, appearing on the balcony of the stilt house.

"Yes," his brother replied. "I'll show her how to use the arrows."

Yuk nodded.

"You should see their weapons," Huydai added. "They burn rocks, take metal out of them, and make incredibly hard weapons. The only problem is that fire can melt them."

Faewal was about to correct him, but decided to let it go.

They rode through the forest without speaking, and finally reached the blue prairie. The Baredust Mountains were silhouetted against the cloudless sky with its light, barely perceptible purple circles.

"What's the problem?" asked Huydai point-blankly, slowing his horse.

"Problem?" Faewal wondered. "There's no problem."

"So why do you need one of us?"

"Ah, that problem! We told you, we need a second warrior for our mission."

"That is clear, but what is the mission about? What do you need warriors for?"

Faewal sighed. She was not good with words and, least of all, at inventing stories. "I think it is better to explain it to your brother too," she tried to escape.

Huydai stopped his horse, "No. I want to know. Now."

Faewal stopped her horse too and looked straight in Huydai's ice-like eyes.

"Now you have no choice," said Sara amused. "You really have to find a credible story."

"Stop it! Help me instead."

"Um. . ." Sara, unlike Faewal, loved telling stories and she had already thought of some options. "What do you think about Good against Evil? Good gods against bad gods? It's a classic. Always works."

Faewal sighed again. It was true. Good against Evil was a classic plot line, in any dimension. And she had no choice other than giving Huydai an explanation, Sara was right. "Fine," she started, addressing Huydai. "I guess you know that everything happens because the gods want it, and that they are the ones ruling natural events."

"Yes, I know."

"Every god rules a natural element."

"As your father rules the red sun."

"Er, yes, as he does," she murmured. "But also all remaining elements, such as the blue sun, the water, the air and so forth and so on, are ruled by a god each."

"Yes, everything on earth has its own god, I know," he confirmed. "What's the problem with the gods?"

"Well, in fact, something happened amongst them," she said, a very serious expression on her face. "They . . . fought."

"Come on, he's not a child!" Sara exclaimed indignant.

"I mean," Faewal corrected, "you know that some gods are more important than others. . ."

"I know. The red sun god is clearly more important than the blue sun god."

Faewal stared at him in disbelief—he had just suggested to her who were the good and who were the bad ones! "Exactly," she resumed with enthusiasm. "Unfortunately, what is happening is that the blue sun god doesn't want to be considered less important than the red sun one—I mean, my father, and that's the reason why he is gathering an army to attack my father."

Huydai looked perplexed. He could not figure out the two suns gods fighting each other. Then, a worried light crossed his gaze. "Are you asking us to be part of the blue sun god's army? Do you want to fight your own father?"

She could not say that the boy lacked of imagination. "No!" she tried to assume a very offended expression. "Obviously not. I am faithful to my father."

"And Algowagh too is a loyal and humble servant," Sara suggested.

"And Algowagh too is a loyal and humble servant," Faewal repeated.

"Ah!" Huydai looked relieved. "So, what is exactly the situation?"

"We know for sure that the blue sun god is gathering an army of rebels to attack my father and that this is about to happen. What we don't want is a war amongst the gods, which can have disastrous consequences on both the gods and all living creatures." She gently pulled the bridles of her horse to make it walk. Huydai followed her example, and after a while the two horses were walking side by side again. "To avoid a war, we need to nip the rebellion in the bud," she resumed. "And to do so, we have to attack the rebels first, before they attack us."

"How many are they?"

"Don't scare him. Keep it low," Sara suggested.

"Low? How much low? Is two hundred low enough?"

"Less! These people have never faced more than a herd of warthogs. If you tell him that he has to face two hundred angry gods, he'll take to his heels."

"Four?" Faewal asked uncertain. "Come on, it's ridiculous. Four is offensive for a real warrior!"

"Ok, make it ten. Fifteen, maximum. . ."

"They are fifteen at the moment," Faewal replied to Huydai.

He pondered for a few seconds. Fifteen enemies. Gods, with all their powers. "But we are only three!" he finally reacted, hardly hiding his worry.

"I know that we are three," Faewal struggled to find a logic and reassuring answer. "But Algowagh and I have their same divine powers, and, on top of that, I'm a very good warrior. As must be the one of you who will join us."

"We still have to learn how to use your weapons," Huydai did not seem reassured. "We are much fewer than they are, and whichever one of us will join you is not skilled with your weapons. I don't see it as a very good start."

"But we are better than them!" Faewal could not find anything more appropriate to say.

"They are gods," he argued. "They should be better."

"Tell him that the gods don't use weapons," Sara intervened. "Tell him that our strength is to have real warriors in our group, and that the gods don't fight, apart from you of course, because they don't consider it up to them."

"The gods don't use weapons. They have their powers, of course, but they don't use weapons," Faewal started, following Sara's suggestion. "If we face them with a group entirely composed of gods, there will be no surprises for them, because they know what to expect from other gods. But if we have warriors with us, we can catch them by surprise. Don't underestimate the surprise effect."

Huydai's expression changed slightly, as if Faewal's words finally breached his scepticism, and he started getting involved in the plan.

"Undoubtedly, we are a small group," she continued, "but this also makes it easy for us to enter their palace unnoticed."

"Rebels live in a palace, now?" Sara laughed.

"Yes, in that of the blue sun god. Any objections?" answered Faewal, piqued.

"You'll see the objection in a second—"

"What's a palace?" asked Huydai.

"A god's house—I mean, a god's tent!" she raised her voice in such a way that Huydai did not dare argue further. "And there, we can attack them with both the divine powers that Algowagh and I have and the warrior skills that they aren't experienced with."

"If I or my brother manage to use your weapons skilfully enough—"

"Of course you will!" she exclaimed, cutting his doubts short.
Tension filled the air

Tension filled the air, and also the horses seemed to perceive the strain caused by the discussion between their riders.

"Do you seriously believe that our small group has a chance to achieve this mission?" Huydai asked.

"Of course!" Faewal replied, putting all her enthusiasm in her words. "We are absolutely the best and better assorted team to do it."

Huydai looked at the Baredust Mountains—his obsession. Unlike he had initially hoped, there was no connection between his quest for his origins and the mission that the gods were asking him to join. Following them would not directly bring him any closer to finding his real people, but rather be just an opportunity to leave the village and explore the world. It was not what he had imagined when he had found the two gods sleeping on the blue grass, and for sure, the idea of fighting against the blue sun god had never crossed his mind. Of course, it was a good distraction from the tedious and monotonous life in the village, but it was a distraction from his personal mission too.

He did not fear danger. The idea of being injured—or even dying—did not scare him, as, like many young people of his age, he had never seriously considered death as a possibility in his life. He did not even realise that he would have been separated from his brother—forever, potentially. His yearning for leaving that boring village and looking for something that he had clearly idealised did not allow him to understand what the loss of his brother would mean. He was so blind with his craving, that he almost saw his brother as an obstacle to his dream. He was convinced that Yuk was not himself any more. Perhaps being the Head of the village, perhaps being a father, or perhaps it was Diwha who had managed to make him change his mind; whatever the reason was, his brother was a different person. Whatever the reason was, what remained in Yuk of his origins, seemed to be only his physical features.

If Yuk were to emerge as the winner of the tournament, Huydai would have to remain in the village and most probably protect its people—people whose destiny he could not care less about. Instead of spending entire days on the Baredust Mountains, he would have to think about these people and their well-being. It sounded like a punishment. On top of that, he had to accept it, as it was the god's will that they had been found by these people and saved by them. The gods had wanted the two brothers to protect the village—that's what the god Algowagh had said—and it was impossible for him to disobey. Not to mention that to disobey would have meant to betray Yuk's trust too. More than a punishment, it sounded like a death sentence!

He had to win the tournament. That was the only solution. By fighting for them, he would also come into contact with the gods. If he could contribute enough to accomplish the mission, the red sun god would certainly reward him. He would be grateful to him, or some such windfall of the gods' graces might come. Perhaps, in the middle of an official ceremony in his huge and beautiful palace, in front of all the other gods, the red sun god would put a hand on Huydai's shoulder and say Thank you young man; you saved us from a horrible destiny. We will be forever grateful to you, for your courage and for your valour. Ask me whatever you wish, and I'll grant it. At that point, he would not ask for anything a man would desire, but he would simply say My Lord, being your servant is the highest honour for me. Your gratitude is much more than what I had ever hoped for. But if there is something you want me to ask you, the only thing I long for in my life is to rejoin my real people and hug my real parents again, and live with them forever. The red sun god would smile benevolently and with a snap of his fingers he would make a door open, and a couple with a dark complexion and long, raven-black hair would appear. The man would have noble and kind-hearted eyes, and the woman a sweet and tender expression, and she would kneel with glistening eyes to whisper My dear son . . . And he would proudly walk towards them, without running like a greenhorn, but with the pride of a real warrior who had saved the world, and—

"So, can you show me how you use them?" asked Faewal, interrupting Huydai's daydreaming.

"Them what?"

"Your arrows. I would like to see how you hit a target with them. They are so different from ours, and I cannot figure out how you manage to do it."

"You have arrows too?"

"Were you listening to me? I just told you that we have arrows, but ours aren't double and, most importantly, they have to be perfectly straight, otherwise nobody could hit a target with them. I'm quite curious about yours, as they seem to have exactly all features that would make an arrow fail."

Huydai was not completely out of his daydream yet. Even if things would not happen as he had just imagined, even if he would not be able to rejoin his real people, he would have a chance anyway, because he would be so famous after the mission, that everyone on earth would know of him, even his real people, who could then easily find him. Definitely, he had to emerge as the winner of the tournament—How do they manage to use single arrows? He pondered on Faewal's last words. How could they only hope to hit the target without calculating the angle with the third tree? It was true that the gods had no experience with weapons! "I'll show you," he said with a resolute tone. "Open your eyes. We have to find a warthog running. Come. Let's go back to the forest."

"It's better to catch it here, in the prairie. It can hide more easily in the forest," she objected.

"How do you catch it without calculating the angle with the third tree?"

"The angle with the third tree?" she did not want to sound offensive, but her voice could not hide a sort of superiority.

"You have to aim at the third most distant tree from your target, and when the angle between you, the target, and the tree is the same as the one of your arrow, only then you can shoot and be sure to hit your target. Otherwise it's just a waste of arrows and energies."

Faewal looked at him speechless. Was he saying that they had to find a tree—no, actually, the third most distant tree from the target, which was moving by the way, so that probably, the third tree became the fourth, or the second, in the meantime, and that they had to start it all over again . . .but let's assume that the chosen tree was the correct one, was he saying that they had to wait for the angle between such tree, the target, and the archer to be exactly the same as the one of the arrow? She looked at the dart that Huydai had extracted from his quiver. "Pardon me," she cleared her throat. "Which angle?"

Huydai sighed and stopped his horse. "I am here, right?"

Faewal nodded.

"Let's assume that the third tree is the one down there," he continued, pointing at a tree at the very beginning of the forest. "And then, let's assume that your warthog is there," he indicated an imaginary point towards the right of the third tree he just pointed at. "This is an angle," he concluded tracing with a gesture the lines between himself, the tree and the imaginary warthog. "Isn't it clear?"

"Are you playing dumb and dumber?" Sara asked, mockingly.

Faewal stopped herself from giving a nasty answer to both Sara and Huydai. "This is clearly an angle," she confirmed, retracing the same lines with her finger. "But which is the angle on the arrow?"

Huydai looked at her even more surprised. The gods were really strange, he thought. He took the arrow and put it on the palm of his left hand, then with the right forefinger touched where the two stick ends—the ones without the points—were glued together."This is the angle on the arrow!" he replied.

Faewal stared at the two sticks for a few moments. What a complicated system! She wondered how they had ended up with it. A normal arrow would have been the most obvious choice, she thought, not to mention the fact that their rudimentary arrows did not seem easy to build. Perhaps, once they had stopped hunting because of their age, the old men in the village were appointed to build arrows for all the active hunters, and they probably made hundreds of them each day, she imagined."Who builds the arrows?" she asked.

"We do."

"I mean, who amongst you?"

"Ah," he seemed to understand. "Men, of course. Women are not capable."

"I mean," she sighed, "which men? Are they the old ones?"

"The old ones?" he puzzled. "They don't need arrows. They don't hunt any more! Each one of us builds his own arrows."

She looked surprised. "How can you be sure that all the arrows have the same angle?"

"The same angle? What for?"

She had the feeling that they were not speaking the same language. "How can you be sure to hit a moving target if you shoot several arrows with completely different angles? The warthog is moving, if the angle is also changing, I would find it very hard to actually hit the target!"

"Why?" he asked candidly. "You only have to calculate the angle. I don't find it so hard."Huydai started to feel somehow confident. It was true that the gods were not such good warriors if they were not able to understand such an easy concept as the arrow's angle one was. And Faewal called herself a warrior!

"Do you mean that you calculate the angle every time you shoot?" she wondered.

"Of course."

"I mean, every time you examine the arrow, you see the position of your target, you identify the third tree and you shoot? And if you fail, you do it all over again?"

Huydai looked at her flatly. "Yes."

"Pretty straightforward, eh?" Sara commented. "Maybe it's because I'm not a warrior, as both of you are, but I feel really lost."

"It's not a question of being a warrior," Faewal comforted her.

"It must be a question of being a woman, then. . ."

"Show me how you hit a warthog with these arrows," Faewal challenged Huydai.

"Sure. Follow me," he replied.

They rode for a while into the forest, Huydai ahead, extremely vigilant and concentrated on any possible movement around them. He suddenly stopped his horse and turned backwards towards Faewal. "There it is," he lowered his voice and pointed at something, roughly two hundred meters ahead of them.

Faewal observed the animal. They called it warthog, but it had nothing that could remotely remind her of warthogs, as she knew them from her dimension. It had four legs, but its body was slim like a gazelle's. Its' hair was green and very short, and on the rump there were two bright purple stripes, running parallel along each side of the spine, and converging where the tail, of the same bright purple colour, started. On its head, the animal had two small and squat grey horns, while its snout was flat and ended with a big, one-nostril nose through which the warthog breathed quite heavily. Its' eyes were deep-set, almost hidden amongst the wrinkled folds of skin, and of a very unattractive colour between dark brown and grey.

"They are fast and a little deaf too," Huydai whispered. "It hasn't noticed us yet, but it is better to be careful."

She nodded. "Can we shoot from here?" she asked in a low voice.

"We could, but we'd better approach a little more." He pulled the bridles to make his horse move. The animal looked experienced with hunting. It started walking so silently that Faewal had the impression it knew exactly what its rider wanted to do. Huydai extracted an arrow from his quiver and pointed at something in the forest. "That is the third tree," he said.

Faewal looked with more attention. There were several trees, and the warthog kept on moving.

Huydai understood that she did not identify the right tree. "That one down there," he pointed again his finger. "The one with the lowest branch bending downwards."

"They don't use glasses in this Dimension, do they?" wondered Sara, unable, through Faewal's eyes, to identify neither the tree nor the branch bending downwards.

"I can't see it," Faewal had to admit. "I can't distinguish it from the others."

"Let's do it in another way," Huydai said, putting the arrow on his palm. "The third tree is on the same line of the straight stick, and, in a few moments, the warthog will be exactly in the direction of the point of the arched stick. This will make it be the same angle of the arrow, and I will shoot."

The warthog had not seem to have noticed anything when Huydai released the string of the bow, shooting the arrow that disappeared in flight. A second later, the animal emitted a long and loud mourning sound. Huydai extracted a second arrow from the quiver and gave it a quick glance, then pulled the bridles to make his horse move back in the direction they had come from. After a dozen meters, he stopped the horse and turned again in the direction of the warthog, and finally shot. The warthog emitted a second loud mourning and collapsed. As soon as the animal disappeared behind the bush, Faewal turned towards Huydai who was moving back to her.

"Did you see?" he asked. "Only two arrows, and the warthog is dispatched. Now I should go there and kill it with the dagger, but if I don't do this, it will stand up again in a while and join the herd, allowing its' wounds to heal."

Faewal was still trying to figure out how to use those funny arrows.

"Try," he invited her, handing the quiver out.

She took it and arranged it over her shoulder, gazing around to find a warthog, but here were none, so she took an arrow and study it. The angle, the third tree . . .

"There it is," Huydai pointed an animal not far away from them. "Be silent. It's very near and it can hear us."

Faewal nodded and looked at the arrow again, then she rapidly chose the tree that she believed being the third, and waited for the animal to be exactly where it needed to be to complete the angle. And she shot. The arrow ran, not as fast as Huydai's one, and the animal continued to walk, undisturbed.

"It wasn't the third tree," Huydai shook his head. "Come!" He pulled the bridles, and his horse moved. "Do you see?" he asked as soon as they reached a tree where two straight sticks were stabbed. "Both my arrows hit the third tree, and, if you wish, we can go to the warthog and we will find out that it has been hit by the other two sticks."

"I have no reason to doubt it," Faewal answered, piqued. "I saw the animal's reaction."

"You didn't aim at the third tree, and your shot lacked strength," he explained. "Maybe the bow is too hard for you."

Faewal looked askance at him. She quickly extracted one of her arrows from the quiver fastened at the saddle of her horse, and arranged it on the bow. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a warthog. "Look at this," she challenged Huydai and closed one eye to aim at the animal.

The arrow flew at an incredible speed.

"Do you take pot shots at trees?" Huydai had barely finished his question when he heard the long mourning sound of a wounded warthog. He turned his head in the direction of the sound and saw the snout of the animal disappearing behind the bush. As soon as they reached the animal, he realised not only that Faewal had hit it, but also that the warthog was dead."It's dead!" he exclaimed.

"I know. We use weapons to kill real enemies. We cannot risk just injuring them. There's poison on the point of the arrow, and it kills immediately."

"What's on the point of the arrow?" he asked.

"Poison," she repeated. "A . . . divine substance."

Huydai looked at the wound. "It's powerful! Did you say that it kills immediately?"

"It does. Better if you don't touch it," she admonished him, stopping his hand from touching the bleeding wound of the animal.

Huydai pulled back his hands and remained silent for a few seconds. "Do all gods know this substance?" he asked.

"Of course. We use it often, not only with arrows."

"And . . . is there any possibility not to be killed by it?"

"Well, one has to use the antidote that cancels poison's effects, but it must be used very quickly. Sometimes there is simply not enough time."

Huydai seemed baffled by the power of such a weapon. "Must I learn to use the poison?" he asked.

"Better to learn to use the arrows. And better to do it without poison."

"And without poison, how many of your arrows do you need to kill a warthog?" he asked, trying to understand Faewal's hunting method that looked simpler than his.

"It depends. Probably one or two to stun it, and then you should use the dagger anyway. Unless you aim at the heart, of course. . ."

"The heart?"

"Yes, the heart, the—Leave it! Better to use the dagger," she cut it short.
They came back

They came back to the village late. By then, Faewal had a clearer idea on how to structure the tournament. It would be held inside the village, and because there would not be warthogs running around, the competition with the strange arrows would be focused on the archer's rapidity in identifying the arrow's angle as well as its correspondent among different fixed targets arranged inside the tournament area. Similarly, the competition with the normal arrows would not be done with moving targets, but would rather focus on the archer's precision in hitting fixed ones. The tournament competitions were slowly taking shape in Faewal's mind, as well as their sequence and how to arrange the infrastructure needed for them. Besides the two competitions with the arrows, the two brothers would be tested on their ability with the sword, that was a new weapon for them, and they would have to prove not only their ability with the tool itself, but also their understanding of the use of the three stones set in the sword's hilt. It was also good, Faewal thought, to test the brothers' ability with weapons that were not so frequently used, but could be of help in a battle—especially the one against Pichros—thus there would be competitions with the spiked flail, mainly to test the brothers' strength, and with the spear, rarely used, but effective to test precision in a different way than with the arrows.

There would also be competitions to test the brothers' capacity in using different magic potions, which could be vital in specific circumstances, as well as classic magic tools, such as the invisibility cloak. Algowagh would teach them how to use everything related to magic, avoiding revealing too much about magic itself, even though it was clear at that point that the two brothers were neither stupid, nor too keen on accepting less than exhaustive explanations. Most likely, Faewal and Algowagh would have to use the word divine more than expected, but, in the end, the only important thing was the final result. Almost as crucial was speed, as, unfortunately, the Betwixt Doors to the First Dimension were quite rare, and they would have to take advantage of any opportunity.

Faewal and Huydai crossed the village on their horses. Only a small group of men had gone out to hunt that day, and the two riders had almost the entire village's curious eyes on them while walking back to the stilt house. They reached the poles where they had taken their horses from and fastened the animals there again. As soon as they started to climb the three-rung ladder of Yuk's dwelling, he appeared on the small balcony. "Welcome back! I hope your walk was fruitful."

"Very fruitful," Faewal confirmed. "I had the opportunity to test your arrows, which are quite different from ours. Really different."

"Their arrows have the antidote," Huydai intervened.

"The poison," Faewal corrected him.

"Right, the poison," he repeated.

Yuk looked at them puzzled.

"We'll explain it to you later, don't worry," Huydai reassured him. "We really have to train a lot for the tournament."

Yuk nodded and invited them into his dwelling with a gesture of his hand. The room was empty. Being the Head's wife, Diwha was probably entitled to special permissions, Faewal thought. The three sat on the same grey furry cushions around the green stone triangle in the middle of the room.

"We can have the tournament in the main square," announced Yuk, and with a very serious expression added, "I have ordered the Council's Site to be moved."

"Perfect," replied Faewal, without appreciating the importance of it. "It would be good to have somebody help me to arrange the different competitions."

"Of course. Are five men enough? What kind of material do you need?"

"Five men are enough, thanks. I would need wooden poles, furs and both small and big stones."

"No problem. I will order everything you mentioned to be piled outside by this evening, so that you can start early tomorrow morning."

"Very good. Tomorrow we will concentrate our efforts on you learning how to use our weapons. Huydai had the opportunity to have a look at some of them, but there are also some divine weapons you must be able to use. Algowagh will teach you tomorrow morning."

"Will we use divine weapons?" asked Yuk respectfully.

"Not only we will use them," Huydai anticipated Faewal's answer, "but we will use them against the gods!"

Yuk opened his eyes wide. "What?" he asked, lowering his voice, as if his brother had just blasphemed. Huydai did not answer, but looked at Yuk, amused—he did not know anyone else more fearful and respectful towards the gods than his brother.

"In fact," Faewal started, "our mission is stopping a group of rebel gods who are conspiring against the red sun god."

"Your father?" asked Yuk in complete disbelief.

"Yes, my father."

"And that's not all," Huydai intervened again. "The blue sun god leads the rebels!"

If somebody had punched him on the nose, Yuk could not have had a more stunned expression.

"I think the younger brother is having a bit of fun," Sara commented.

"I think you're right," replied Faewal. "But he's not making things easier for me."

"Careful with lies," Sara warned her.

"We have to go to Sildariel as soon as possible, no matter how many lies we have to tell them," Faewal cut it short. "That's the truth," she then confirmed in a loud voice. "The blue sun god is gathering rebels against my father."

"Fifteen!" Huydai added.

"Fifteen rebels to help him in fighting against my father in order to become more powerful than him. In order to become the most powerful god on earth."

"The red sun god, the blue sun god . . . don't they have names?" Sara asked confused.

"Shall I ask them? Shall I ask them the name of my own father?"

"Pretend to have amnesia."

"Sara!"

"Fine, fine. . ."

Yuk was pondering on what he'd just been told. The two most important gods on earth were fighting. He could not think of anything worse than that! The world was based on the perfect harmony amongst the gods, and such perfect order, allowing the existence of all living beings, was guaranteed by the balance amongst the gods. The gods could not fight each other. It was just inconceivable! "But the god Aswer is good!" he exclaimed.

"Yuppie! One is called Aswer" Sara exulted. "Thanks Aswer for answering my prayers. . ."

"Of course, everybody knows it," Huydai replied to the brother. "But Ryfjow too is good and fair."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, here is the second one. With his unpronounceable name."

"Sara, please, you're really not helping me."

"Fine. So I won't help you understand who your father is!"

"Things aren't often as they seem," Faewal said loudly, not knowing exactly where she wanted to end up.

"It seems so in this case," Huydai commented, still very amused.

"But it's impossible!" Yuk burst out. "Balance and harmony amongst the gods are the basis of our own existence. I can't believe they are doing this to us—"He met Faewal's eyes. "I mean," he regretted the comment he had just made, "I'm not doubting what you are telling us, but please, try to understand, we, I, strongly believe that gods—"

"Yuk, she is his daughter. She should know it better than we, don't you think?" Huydai interrupted the brother.

Yuk stared at Faewal. She was the red sun god's daughter; there was no doubt about it. The god Algowagh had said so. It was not clear what the god Algowagh was god of, as nobody had ever heard his name before, but he surely was a god, or he could not have started a fire as he did. He could not be the god of fire. That was Thjkol, everybody knew that. Maybe Algowagh was a sort of helper. Or maybe Thjkol's son. Or maybe—

"We need to act rapidly," Faewal took advantage of Yuk's temporary confusion and left him no time to ask further questions. "Unfortunately, we don't have so much time. We know for sure that the rebels are preparing a blitz."

"Are you really, really sure about it?" asked Yuk, who still could not believe that the gods were fighting.

"Absolutely. Our sources are more than trustable."

"Who are they?" asked Huydai.

"They are," Faewal started uncertainly. "They are—"

"The son of the blue sun god!" Sara suggested.

"Are you dumb?" Faewal managed not to change her facial expression, while answering to Sara.

"I'm not, trust me! Who is more trustable than the son?"

"The son," Faewal repeated unwillingly and lowering her voice.

The two brothers stared at her for a few seconds.

"Whose son?" asked Huydai.

"The son of—"

"Ryfjow," pressed Sara.

"Ryfjow," repeated Faewal.

"Your brother?" asked the brothers in chorus.

"Aswer, Aswer!" urged Sara.

"Aswer," Faewal corrected herself. "I mean, Aswer!"

Silence. The two brothers had a suspicious expression.

"Damn! We messed it up. Help me!" Faewal beseeched Sara.

Sara looked at the two brothers through Faewal's eyes. "Aswer's son is your fiancé!" she finally said. "He's your fiancé, and you are about to marry. But his father doesn't want this marriage to take place because he fears that Ryfjow will become more powerful through this marriage. On the contrary, this marriage is a perfect way to bring more stability and harmony amongst the gods. More than that. At this point, a marriage is the only solution to restore peace."

"Forget it," said Faewal.

"Do you have a better idea?"

Faewal sighed deeply. She was not good at inventing stories and she obviously had no better ideas, as well as many choices at that point. "Aswer's son and I are in love with each other," she explained to the brothers, almost disgusted. They immediately changed their expression. Maybe Sara was right, Faewal had to admit. "We were planning to marry," she continued, "but Aswer is opposing our plan, and we finally understood the reason why. He fears that my father will increase his power. On the contrary, this marriage would be an additional assurance to the balance amongst the gods."

"Of course," Yuk agreed. "The two suns would be controlled by the same family!"

Faewal looked at him nodding. "Do you understand now?"

"Yes. It's obvious!"

"It's incredible," Sara intervened. "These two are clever boys, but as soon as we speak about gods, their brain goes on strike."

"Sara, please. . ."

Yuk and Huydai started murmuring between them, discussing what Faewal had just said, and agreed that all made perfectly sense.

"We don't have much time," Faewal's voice interrupted the brothers' reasoning. "You only have tomorrow to get used to our weapons. Then, we will have the tournament and leave immediately after."

"I have to explain this to the village," said Yuk.

"Come on! We have no time and there's no decision to be taken. There's no need to speak with the entire village. Things are as she said. Take it or leave it!" replied Huydai annoyed, as he did every time the village interfered somehow with his life.

"I know there's nothing to decide on, but we have to inform them. They must know that in two days one of us will leave the village. What if I win the tournament? Are you aware that you might become the new Head? They deserve to know what will happen to them in two days!"

Huydai shivered at the mere thought of becoming the Head of the village. "Do whatever you want," he replied bluntly, standing up. "I will inform Bodlin, which is the only being I care about!"

There were some seconds of silence once Huydai had left the room, then Yuk stood up and darted a glance outside the window."They haven't moved the Council's Site yet," he acknowledged. "Better to take advantage of it and call the village now."

"What do you want to tell them, exactly?"

"What you just told us"

"All of it?"

"Of course. What's the problem? It's not a lie, is it?" he smiled.

"No, it is not! Of course, it is . . . not," she replied averting her gaze, embarrassed.

Called by a sort of strange horn, all men gathered in front of the Council's Site within a few minutes. Yuk, Faewal and Algowagh were sat on the three big wooden chairs, with the carved wooden totem, painted in red, blue and yellow, standing out behind them like a scarecrow.

"People of the village," Yuk started in a very loud voice. "Women! Come out of your tents and take your place next to men."

Not a single tent opened. Men were speechless in front of such an absurd request.

"Come here," Yuk invited again, standing up. "What I'm about to tell you is very important and concerns you all."

Some tents slightly opened, but nobody dared to come out. When the air resounded with a happy baby laugh, everybody turned towards the stilt house where Diwha was going down the rung ladder, holding her little smiling son. With her head held up high, she approached the Council's Site and stopped at a reasonably respectful distance, looking straight at her husband. He thanked her with a smile, and, once more, the idea of leaving his village and his family pulled at his heart. After a few more seconds, women started to come out of their tents, at first hesitantly and then more and more confidently, until the hidden half of the village was finally, and for the first time, visible to everybody.

"People of the village," resumed Yuk, "The gods need us."

An amazed Oh rose from the crowd.

"After tomorrow," he continued, "we will organise a tournament to find out who, between my brother and I, will join the gods Faewal and Algowagh in their difficult mission."

Algowagh looked at Faewal and winked—to be considered a god amused him very much.

"As you are all aware, Faewal is Ryfjow's daughter." People nodded, as if hypnotised. "And she is also Aswer's son's bride-to-be."

A spontaneous applause burst out after a few seconds of astonishment. Faewal looked at Algowagh, to whom she had just told the pack of lies that Sara had invented. His only reaction had been a long and amazed whistle that had sounded remarkably like a compliment to Sara.

"Unfortunately," Yuk resumed as soon as the applause ended, "Aswer is against the wedding and he is organising a group of rebels to oust Ryfjow. Aswer is not bad, but he just doesn't understand that he won't lose his power because of this wedding. On the contrary, the wedding is the best thing for all."Yuk could not stop himself from finding a justification to the blue sun god's behaviour. It was absolutely inconceivable to him that such an important god could have been driven by evil intentions. "The urgent mission we have to accomplish is to stop the rebels and allow Faewal to marry her beloved, and so ensure eternal harmony on this earth."People of the village were listening extremely carefully and they seemed to have a sigh of relief after Yuk's last words. "Sadly, either I or my brother will have to leave the village. If Huydai shall win, it will be very hard for me, for us all, to see him leaving, but we all know what a valiant and intrepid warrior he is. . ."Yuk glanced around looking for his brother. Somebody noticed it and turned his head in search of the boy, but nobody saw him. They all knew that he was a shy and funny person, and surely a valiant and intrepid warrior, as Yuk had just said. But in fact, nobody seemed truly concerned about his possible departure. "On the other hand, if I shall win the tournament," Yuk continued, "I will have to leave you."There were some clear Nos amongst the crowd, and some women even covered their mouth with their hands, frightened. "But Huydai will stay with you and he will take my place as Head of the village!" Yuk reassured them.

People's reaction was not at all what Yuk expected. Everybody turned towards his or her neighbour, discussing rather animatedly what Yuk had just said. They all gesticulated excited and were so shocked by such an eventuality that men and women started discussing amongst them, even if they did not belong to the same family and they may have only seen each other once or twice in their whole lives.

Yuk was speechless. After the first few moments of disbelief, the only thing he managed to do was pray to all gods that his brother would be far away from the village and not witness the its reaction."People, people, please!" he called for order, yelling from the Council's Site. As he realised that nobody was listening to him any more, he took the strange black horn that he had used to call the meeting and blew in it three times with all the air he had in his lungs. Three long and deep bursts echoed in the village, and people stopped talking immediately. All heads turned again towards the Council's Site. "This is the gods' will," Yuk announced, very seriously. "This is what the gods Faewal and Algowagh have told us."

Faewal and Algowagh exchanged a quick glance and tried to maintain their most divine expression.

However absurd the decision was, the people had no choice. If it was the gods' will, they had no other option but to accept it. Without arguing.

In the meantime, Yuk's prayer had been answered, and Huydai was galloping so fast on Bodlin's rump that he seemed to be flying over the blue blades of grass of the prairie.
The night passed

The night passed, and nobody really slept. The two brothers nearly did not close their eyes at all, thinking about the mission, the tournament, the new weapons and, above all, the fearful ongoing conflict amongst the gods. On the other side, Faewal and Algowagh spent almost the entire night discussing the competitions and deciding upon which magic weapons it was better for the brothers to get to know. After all, one of them would remain in the village and would have acquired a knowledge that was in fact forbidden to acquire at dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven's evolutionary level. The First Law of the System would have been amply breached the following day, and consequences of it could be disastrous. In the event—or rather the hope—that the mission would be successful, the knowledge acquired by the two brothers, as well as by Sara, would have to be erased, or it could cause a new anomaly in the System. Sapiens Universalis already had a couple of ideas about how to do it, and perhaps Sildariel too, provided that he was not the culprit of the Abyss himself. Anyway, at the moment, they had to concentrate all their energies and attention on the mission. What would follow would have to be another story.

As the previous morning, Faewal and Algowagh, who slept in the same tent next to the stilt house, woke up with a strange feeling.

"Do you know what happened to me last night, and that happened yesterday too?" Faewal started as soon as she noticed that Algowagh was awake.

"Good morning," he replied with a smile. "Tell me, what did happen to you?"

"I didn't dream at all."

"Actually, I had no dreams either."

"Same with me," Sara intervened. "And I always dream. Even when I was in your dimension, I did it."

"Sara too had no dreams," Faewal reported to Algowagh.

He pondered for a few seconds. "Maybe dreaming is somehow linked with the evolutionary level. But it is better not to raise the issue with our guests, or we risk answering questions such as whether dreams bite or walk."

"You're right," Faewal smiled, thinking about all explanations she had to give to the little boy the day before. "Let's move now. We have a packed day today!"

"Agreed," replied Algowagh, lifting the piece of leather at the entrance. "Roasted warthog, Her Majesty?"

"With pleasure!" she said exiting the tent.

"Not again. . ." moaned Sara, perfectly aware that she could not avoid it.

The village was already busy with daily activities. A large number of wooden poles had been stacked in the middle of the main square, and the Council's Site had been removed overnight. Next to the rung ladder of the stilt house, there were a bunch of grey furs on one side and a sizeable heap of green stones on the other.

"They didn't waste time, did they?" Faewal observed, wondering about the amount of material they made available for her. "We can organise at least five tournaments with this stuff!"

"Good morning," greeted Yuk, appearing on the window of the house and inviting them in with a gesture. "Breakfast is ready."

The scene inside was exactly the same as the previous day, except for the number of seats around the table, which were now five.

"How sweet, they thought about you!" Faewal mocked Sara.

"Funny. Very funny."

"Diwha will eat with us," said Yuk, as if to justify the fifth seat.

Huydai was already seated and nodded to welcome them. The three took their places, while Diwha brought a large dish full of roasted meat and sat at the table.

"This morning, I will arrange for the tournament, with the help of the five men you promised me," Faewal started, addressing Yuk. "Algowagh will teach you how to use our mag, er . . . divine weapons, instead. As soon as I finish, I will teach you how to use the non-divine weapons, and you will practise with them for the rest of the day."

"Unfortunately," Algowagh took the floor, "we have very little time. We absolutely need to run the tournament tomorrow and leave as soon as it ends."

The two brothers nodded seriously. By then, it was clear to them that they had to do their best and that there was no time to waste. That is why breakfast was shorter than the previous day, and everybody got ready to start with their own duties.

When Faewal lifted the leather curtain to exit Yuk's dwelling, five men were waiting outside. They all were pretty brawny, heavily bearded and with a smart expression, but it was clear that they were still wary of Faewal who, even though a goddess, remained a woman in the end.

"Do what Faewal tells you," Yuk ordered.

The men exchanged a quick and suspicious glance with each other.

"As you would do if I asked," he added, to avoid any misunderstanding.

It took almost three hours to arrange the area for the tournament, but in the end the view was astonishing and somehow mysterious for the people of the village.

The shape of the area was elliptical, with the outer edge defined by a continuous line of green pebbles. One end of the area was occupied by a thick group of wooden poles, sunk in the ground, which looked like a stylised forest. On both sides of it were some targets made out of a wooden board, painted with big, red and concentric circles, and supported by three legs. Opposite the pole forest, at the other end of the ellipse, a large palisade delimited a very irregular area with only one narrow opening, large enough for one person to pass through. Even from the balcony of the stilt house it was impossible to see what was inside the palisade, and once the external wall had been built by the five men, only Faewal had worked inside it. Not far from the palisade, on its right, there was a group of rocks of various sizes, with different, irregular shapes painted on them. Just in front of the rocks, on the left side of the palisade, some green pebbles had been arranged in a circle that was big enough to host two tents, even though it was completely empty for a reason that only the goddess Faewal knew. On the imaginary line connecting the pole forest to the palisade, nearer to the latter than to the forest, there was another target, similar in structure to the ones next to the forest, but bigger than them, and with seven concentric circles painted on it in different colours. And finally, in the area just in front of the pole forest, a big pole had been sunk in the ground, and a fake man had been put on top of it. The fake man was in fact only half a man, as it ended at the waist level, and was made out of blue grass, fastened to shape the body and the head, and covered with pieces of leather, which looked like the man's clothes. The arms were made by a thinner pole, at one end of which there was a little wooden board with three concentric circles painted on it.

As she finished her job, Faewal went to the balcony of the stilt house to have a look at the final result. With her hands on her hips and a very critical look, she thought that, considering the short time and the poor variety of material available, it was a really good job!

Algowagh had chosen a remote part of the village, in between its palisade and a group of tents, to retire with the two brothers and his bag full of phials and potions. There had been, of course, some curious glances from people, but it was the quietest place—as Yuk suggested—and the attention of the village was mostly concentrated on Faewal's activity.

"You are not supposed to know what I'm about to teach you," started Algowagh with a mysterious tone, "as none from men are allowed to know the gods' divine weapons."

The two brothers understood very well the privilege they had, and they both nodded seriously.

"But as the situation we are in is so exceptional, we will make an exception," he continued. "I will reveal to you some of the secrets of the gods, so that you will be able to protect yourselves against possible attacks with divine powers. The gods have, of course, weapons that are immensely more powerful than the ones I'm going to show you now, but in case of a serious problem, Faewal and I will rescue you, so don't worry, as this is just to give you a first opportunity to protect yourselves." From his bag, he slowly extracted a phial, a round-bottom flask—both with coloured contents—some dark green, blue streaked marbles, a pencil, and a light brown piece of fabric which seemed to be very light. He neatly arranged them on a small table in front of him and resumed his explanation. "Tomorrow, after the competitions which will test your ability with the weapons that Faewal will later teach you, you will enter a labyrinth."He saw the puzzling expression on the brothers' faces. "Do you know what a labyrinth is?" he asked, knowing the answer.

The two heads shook synchronically.

"A labyrinth is—no, better, tomorrow's labyrinth is made of a long palisade, like this one," he said, touching the poles of the village outer fence, "that contains long and crooked walls forming long and crooked paths. Those paths are so long and with so many bends that it is impossible to see their end. As you proceed along them, you will find forks, which are choices between a right and a left path, or, in some cases, even more than two. You will have to choose only one path and continue walking along it. It could easily happen that a path leads you nowhere because it is a blind alley, or maybe it leads you at the beginning of the labyrinth so that you have to start all over again. Or even worse, it can lead you right in front of an enemy that you will have to fight."

Yuk started. "Will you bring enemies inside the village?"

"Don't worry," Algowagh reassured him. "They are not threats to the village, but just creatures you have to face in order to prove your ability. I assure you that they won't go out of the labyrinth and will do no harm to your people in any way. They are just part of the labyrinth, nothing more than that."

Yuk did not relax completely, as the explanation did not satisfy him, but Algowagh continued anyway. "The aim of the labyrinth," he said, "is to test not only your ability in using divine weapons, but also the rapidity of your reactions, as well as your speed in taking crucial decisions. Even if these divine weapons are only a little part of what the gods use, it is important that you learn to use them extremely well. One main characteristic of divine weapons is that whoever uses them must know exactly what they are for and which weapon is the best one in every situation, otherwise the weapon, however powerful, has no effects. If the divine weapon that you use has no effects, you put yourselves and your team at great risk, and you can jeopardise the entire mission."He paused for a few seconds and took the round-bottom flask, which was closed by a cork and contained a bright vermillion liquid. "Potions. That's how we will call divine weapons from now on. Potions can be liquid, like this one." He gently shook the flask. "Or in powder." He pointed at the phial, which was as well closed by a little cork, but contained a thin ochre powder. "Or untouchable, like the air," he concluded, showing one of the marbles containing a deep green gas. He put all items back to the table and touched the brown fabric. "Divine weapons also include objects with peculiar characteristics, such as the invisibility cloak or the air bubble pencil," he added, moving his hand on the thin, rose pink pencil next to the brown fabric.

Yuk and Huydai did not understand much of what Algowagh had just said, but looked very impressed by the bright colours of the potions. The fabric was also very appealing to them, as they had not yet discovered how to spin and weave natural fibres. They were probably more impressed by the fabric itself than by the cloak or even its invisibility quality. But what really puzzled them was the pencil—such a little stick, of such a delicate and unusual colour and that was involved in making air bubbles in a totally obscure way.

"Don't worry," Algowagh once more reassured them. "I will explain everything to you as simply as possible, and I can assure you that, at the end of the day, you will know how to use these weapons like real wizard—I mean, god! So, let's start with," he threw a glance at the objects on the table, "the Stone Potion!"He took again the flask and looked at the brothers whose gaze was fixed on the vermillion liquid that was moving inside.

"Is this the metal that you extract from stones?" Huydai asked, thinking at Faewal's words.

"Metal?" Algowagh puzzled.

"Yes, the one you use to make swords."

"No. This is not metal."

Huydai sighed, deceived. He probably had not asked the question correctly, but he was sure that metal had something to do with the vermillion liquid, otherwise the potions would not be called stone potion, he thought.

"As you can see, this potion is liquid," Algowagh resumed. "Its effect is to petrify what it touches."

"What do you mean by petrify?" Yuk broke in.

"I mean that it makes something become a stone," answered Algowagh, looking for something at his feet. "Look at this."He pulled out a little plant that grew at the base of the palisade, and put it on the table, then uncorked the flask, and, very carefully, let one drop fall on a leaf of the plant. The leaf turned a dark grey, which then became lighter, as if the leaf was drying. As if the plant was a sponge, the grey colour spread to every green part of it, changing its colour to dark and finally light grey. When the whole plant was of the same, uniform light grey colour, Algowagh took it and handed it to Yuk. "Take it," he said.

Yuk took the plant, and was thunderstruck. He touched it gently at first, and then with increasing pressure. "It is hard!" he finally exclaimed.

"It is," Algowagh confirmed. "It is of stone and will remain so."

The two brothers exchanged a glance in disbelief.

"Now, follow me carefully. Petrifying this little plant was of no use, apart from explaining to you how the Stone Potion works. If you use the potion in the wrong way, petrifying things around without a purpose, the only result you'll get is to waste it." He gave them a stern glance. "You also must pay attention whether the object on which you use the Stone Potion is able to absorb liquids, or the potion will slide away and be wasted. Always remember that the potion is extremely powerful. One drop of it is more than enough to petrify whatever you want, no matter how big it is. If you pour the whole flask's content the first time you use the potion, you won't have any left for the next occasion."

The brothers were so enthralled by Algowagh's words that they did not even nod to show that they understood.

"Keep in mind that tomorrow, in the labyrinth, you will be allowed to use each potion only once. This means that if you choose your potion incorrectly, you will miss your chance, and your final result will most probably be compromised. On the other hand, while on the mission, you will have the opportunity to use a potion more than once, but if you choose the wrong one, you will probably not have the time to repair what you have done, because your enemy will take advantage of your mistake and attack you when you are most vulnerable." At that point, Algowagh's voice had a very frightful tone. "By acting this way, you risk not only compromising the mission itself, but you have good chances not to even see the end of the mission!"

Silence. They had grasped the concept.

"Let's move to the second potion now."Algowagh put the flask back on the table and took the phial with the ochre powder. "This is the Ice Potion."He looked down again to find something helpful to his demonstration and chose a medium sized stone that he put on the table."If you want something to become of ice," he started, uncorking the phial and sprinkling the stone with very little powder, "you only need to use the Ice Potion on it, and your object will immediately freeze."

Suddenly, the stone colour turned to white. Algowagh took it and handed it to Huydai who looked quite surprised after touching it. "Wow, it's really cold!" he exclaimed, using his other hand to detach the ice stone from the skin of the first hand, and put it back on the table.

"This stone has exactly all characteristics of regular ice now," Algowagh continued. "It can be broken or melted, and, as the Ice Potion's effects are permanent, it will never turn back to stone again."He looked at the stone, until a thin film of water appeared underneath it, and the two brothers stared speechlessly at such a marvel.

"The third potion that you have to know is the Shield Potion," Algowagh broke the silence and picked one of the dark green marbles. "If you need to protect your whole body from both divine and non-divine weapons, the Shield Potion is what you need. But be aware, its effects last for only one minute! What you have to do is simply throw one of these little balls at your feet, with all your strength, so that it breaks, and its contents diffuse around you to form an impenetrable shield all over your body."

"Any kind of attack?" asked Huydai astonished. "Even a god's thunder?"

"Any kind," Algowagh repeated. "But remember, the shield lasts only for one minute."

Huydai pondered. "How long is one minute?" he finally asked.

"Sixty seconds—" Algowagh answered, realising immediately after that such an answer was meaningless to them. He took his bag and looked for something inside, and finally extracted an hourglass. "This is a two-hour," he murmured to himself and extracted a smaller one. "This is a one-hour." He put the second hourglass back into the bag and extracted a third one. "Here we are!"He put the smallest hourglass on the table and left the sand to fall completely into the bottom section. "From this moment," he said, turning the hourglass upside-down, "up to when all the sand is in the lower part, it is one minute."

The two brothers were completely hypnotised by the sand falling down. They stared at the little depression created in the sand in the top half of the hourglass, until the last grain of sand fell down. They were so concentrated that probably did not realise how actually long one minute was.

"Is this a divine weapon too?" asked Huydai with his eyes glued on the hourglass.

"No, this is only to measure time, and it is not even the most accurate tool for that."

"Measure time?" Yuk repeated.

Algowagh realised that, if he did not change the subject immediately, they could have lost hours discussing time and hourglasses, leaving no space for what was truly relevant for the mission. "We'll come back to time measurement later," he resumed quickly. "Now we have to finish with the divine weapons, and then you'll go straight to Faewal to learn how to use the non-divine ones. We really have no time to waste, remember!"

Yuk had already opened his mouth to ask more details about how to measure time, but Algowagh's words made him change idea.

"These are the three potions that you have to master," continued Algowagh. "What is left now, are two very important tools that can save your lives; the air bubble pencil and the invisibility cloak."
The frozen stone

The frozen stone that Algowagh had put on the table had almost completely melted. The air was quite hot by then, and the light of the day was at its maximum intensity. One could have said that it was noon, if only one measured time in dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven.

Once she had finished arranging for the tournament, Faewal joined Algowagh and the two brothers. She walked silently and arrived at the brothers' backs without them noticing her, and then she sat on a rock. Of course Algowagh saw her, but did not interrupt his explanation.

"The air bubble pencil," he said, taking the thin, rose pink pencil in his hand, "can create an air bubble around you. It is very useful if you are underwater and need to breathe, or if you need to fly for a short distance."

"To fly?" asked the two brothers together.

"As birds fly?" Huydai added.

"Exactly like birds," Algowagh confirmed.

"But we cannot fly!" Yuk contradicted him. "We don't have wings as birds have, and we are too heavy!"

"True. But inside an air bubble, you can be so light that you can fly without any problem." Algowagh smiled. "Just wait and see."He took some steps towards Yuk who sat on the ground with his legs crossed. "Do you have your dagger with you?" Algowagh asked.

"Yes," Yuk confirmed without understanding the reason of such a question.

Algowagh draw a circle on the ground, all around Yuk. A very thin, transparent film started rising from the pink line and closed itself above Yuk's head, creating a semi-sphere around him. Yuk did not move, amazed by the strange thing that had grown around him, and when he finally touched it with the palm of his hands, the film deformed, following the hands pressure, without breaking. Yuk stood up, keeping on testing the film that slowly changed and closed itself behind him, becoming a full sphere.

"What's that?" Yuk yelled.

"It's an air bubble," Algowagh replied calmly. "Breathe as usual and don't panic. Everything is exactly as it was before."

"But I can't move!"

"It's not true. Try to walk."

At first hesitantly, then more and more confidently, Yuk took some steps forward. The bubble followed his movements sinuously, deforming and becoming spherical again, step after step. "Let me out!" asked Yuk, showing discomfort.

"Wait. You have to fly first."

"But I cannot!"

"It's easy to learn. And you'll never forget how to do it."

"Yes, like cycling," commented Sara who was really enjoying the situation.

"Jump," spurred Algowagh. "As high as you can."

Yuk hesitated, but then did what Algowagh had asked him to do. Both he and his brother were speechless when he reached the highest height, but did not come back to the ground as they expected it to happen.

"See?" Algowagh smiled. "And now you can walk at that height, or jump again to go higher. You don't have wings, as you said, but you are somehow flying."

Yuk made the first step insecurely, but as soon as he realised that he was not falling down, his confidence grew, and, within some minutes, he was soaring in the sky like a bird.

"Yuk!" Algowagh yelled. "The air bubble stays for five minutes. Come back in time if you don't want to hurt yourself badly."

Yuk stopped immediately and looked down. Come back in time? Don't hurt himself badly? He was not sure to be able to do either of them. He started stamping his feet to make the air bubble moving downward.

"Pretend to walk down some stairs," Algowagh suggested. "It's easier."

Yuk did again what Algowagh had told him and quickly reached the ground. He looked at the man. "What happens now? Does it blow up?" he asked.

"It doesn't blow up. It dissolves," Algowagh pointed out. "And not now. In four minutes."

He definitely had to ask more details on time measurement, Yuk thought. "So, what am I supposed to do? Do I have to stay inside here for four minutes?" he asked, as if he understood perfectly how much time it was.

"Of course not. You can break the bubble before then, if you need to," Algowagh replied. "The bubble can be broken from inside. With a sharp object."

Yuk stared at Algowagh.

"With your dagger, just to mention one," the man added.

"Ah!" Yuk finally understood. He removed the dagger from his belt, and, as soon as the point touched the film, the bubble blasted, producing a thin little rain on him.

Both brothers looked really astonished by what had just happened.

"So, this was the air bubble pencil," Algowagh resumed his explanation, playing with the pink pencil between his fingers. "It can be very useful in a lot of situations."He winked at Faewal, and the two brothers finally realised that she was there.

"Hi," Yuk said a little embarrassed. "Have you finished, already?"

"Yes. Everything is ready. The only missing thing is you," she replied with a smile.

"Let's not waste time and let's finish with the divine weapons," Algowagh urged. "You still have to acquaint yourselves with them, as well as with the non-divine ones, and we cannot postpone the tournament. So, let's move!"

The two brothers turned towards Algowagh again, very attentive.

"The last object which can be very useful in our mission, and that is a classic of mag, er . . . divine weapons, is the invisibility cloak." He unfolded the brown fabric. "As you can see, it looks like a simple piece of fabric."

"A piece of fabric?" repeated Huydai.

"Umm." Algowagh searched quickly for another word. "A material."

The two brothers kept staring at him.

"It's like leather, but it's made by the gods," Faewal intervened from behind the brothers' shoulders.

Huydai and Yuk looked satisfied; as the gods made it, it was pointless to ask why and how. It was as it was. Period.

"This material," Algowagh continued, "can make you invisible."He covered one arm up to the shoulder with the cloak. The brothers started. The fabric disappeared, as well as Algowagh's arm, but as neither Algowagh nor Faewal looked worried, what had just happened should not be so terrible, they thought. They exchanged a quick glance between themselves and tried not to look too surprised.

"Does . . . does it hurt?" asked Huydai with pretended nonchalance.

"Not at all."

"And . . . and you don't bleed?" inquired Yuk.

"Why should I?"

"Well, you just lost an arm!" Yuk exclaimed with the feeling that he was the only one realising what the situation was.

"I didn't lose my arm! It's just invisible under the cloak."Algowagh removed the cloak, and his arm became visible again, as well as the cloak itself. The brothers stared at him speechlessly. "You don't believe me, right?" Algowagh approached Huydai and threw the cloak on the boy.

"Huydai!" Yuk yelled.

"Huydai, can you please tell me where you are?" asked Algowagh calmly.

"I'm here, in front of you," Huydai replied.

"I can't see you!" Yuk could not hide his concern.

"Huydai, touch your brother's arm, please," Algowagh instructed.

The boy did so, and Yuk started as he felt something touching him. He looked at his arm and put his hand where he felt the pressure. He clearly sensed the warmth of a hand and could distinguish its fingers, but between his hand and his arm there was undoubtedly an empty space. "Huydai, are you here?" he asked in disbelief, reaching his hands where the brother was, just a few seconds before. He did actually touch something in the air. It was a head, two shoulders, two arms—everything was there, but he could not see Huydai, and it was as if his brother's supposed body was covered by a thin and extremely soft piece of leather.

"Tell us what you see, Huydai," Algowagh asked.

The boy hesitated. "I see what you see. The same things I saw since this morning."

"Actually, it is not correct," Algowagh contradicted him. "We don't see the same things because we don't see you. You are invisible now, under the cloak. And you don't see the cloak on you either, do you?"

Huydai nodded, but obviously nobody noticed it.

"But you can sense that something is covering you, right?" Algowagh continued.

Huydai paid attention to the light feeling of something wrapping him. He moved his hands to touch it better and, so doing, he pulled the cloak and partially uncovered himself.

"Huydai!" Yuk exclaimed, confused.

"What?"

"You are . . . you are half-you!"

It took almost another half an hour to make the brothers understand how the invisibility cloak worked. Covering one and then the other, Algowagh finally managed to reassure them that the cloak was not causing them any harm, and they eventually became more skilled with the last of the magic weapons. They trained for an additional two hours with all magic weapons, but finally, amongst Algowagh's not so much and don't waste it, they all agreed that they had mastered those weapons well enough for the following day's tournament.

They took a break and realised they were all very hungry, thus, with Sara's utmost disgust, they ate one entire roasted warthog.

What remained of the afternoon was spent training with the non-divine weapons.

Huydai already knew the arrows and the spiked flail, and if the latter was easier to explain to Yuk, the first one required more time. Although the two brothers were used to aiming at a target with their arrows, it turned out to be more difficult than expected for them to be so accurate in aiming with the normal ones. It seemed that aiming at a running warthog and a big tree trunk at the same time, was easier for them than aiming at a little painted circle on a small board, but in the end, Yuk and Huydai managed it.

And the time came for them to get to know the spear.

"It's so heavy!" Huydai protested, not seeing any utility in such a weapon. "We have to use it with one hand only and on a riding horse. To do what? To hit a wooden board. If it was a warthog I'd understand, but a wooden board!"

"You need to learn how to use it. Period!" Faewal yelled at the brothers' third complaint. "It can be useful, you would be surprised."

They did not have discipline at all, she thought. No good warrior would have ever dared to contradict his commander and ask so many questions. Luckily, they were not under her command in the army, or they would have been killed by the Elves at the first occasion. Sure, it was probable that they would not have to use the spear in the city of Fjunur, but the point was that they had to learn to obey. They were about to face something that none of them knew, and they could not lose time in discussing everything, or their enemies would take advantage of it and attack them. She had decided that the spear competition had to be part of the tournament, so they had to learn how to use it. She was the commander, and they had to obey. End of the story.

"This is made out if metal," said Huydai, happy as a child who is revealing that Santa is real, when the time for the sword finally came.

"Right," Faewal confirmed, without giving him too much satisfaction. "As the spiked flail and the spear are."

Huydai looked upset.

"Apart from the material it is made of, this sword is important because it is not like other swords. Normally, swords are only made out of metal, but this one is also mag, er . . . divine," she pointed at the three coloured stones set in the hilt.

The two brothers bent slightly to see them better. Huydai knew already that the three stones had a specific function, but could not remember what Faewal told him the day before.

"These three stones lend the sword, and the warrior, special powers. The purple one," she said, touching it with her left hand forefinger, "must be brushed clockwise for three times."

Yuk raised his eyebrows.

"It must be brushed this way," she showed, without actually touching the stone. "By doing so, your enemies' attacks will be much weaker, and in case they hit you with their weapons, your wounds will be only light scratches."

"Did I understand it correctly?" Huydai interrupted. "If I do that thing with the stone, and somebody stabs me in the back with a dagger, I get no wounds?"

"Exactly."

"Do you mean that the dagger doesn't sink into my back? That no blood will flow?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe it!" Yuk exclaimed.

"Let's try it," she encouraged him.

"Do I have to stab you?"

"Yes," she confirmed, getting into an on-guard position. "Try to stab me with your dagger. I will parry at first and then let you hit me."

Yuk looked distressed. "I don't want to hurt you," he protested.

"You won't. Trust me."

Yuk did not seem really convinced, but approached anyway, holding his dagger, and finally attacked her. Faewal parried easily. She had very good reflexes, Yuk thought, and attacked her a second time with a little more strength. She parried again. Yuk felt challenged. He attacked a third time, forgetting that she was a woman and putting all his strength in the assault. Faewal took a few steps backwards in order to gain some fractions of seconds to brush the stone, and then she let Yuk's dagger hit her right in her ribs. Yuk realised that she would not parry this time, and he was horrified by the idea that he was hurting a goddess. But it was too late. "Noo!" he screamed, desperately trying to change the direction of his dagger and losing his balance. He felt the impact of the dagger against her ribs, but it was strange, different from the sensation one has when the dagger stabs a warthog. He had the feeling that somehow the dagger had not sunk into Faewal's body. He turned towards her, and his gaze went to her chest immediately. No blood. Not even a small scar on her leather waistcoat. "But," he stammered.

"I told you," she smiled.

"Wow!" Huydai exclaimed. "So now you are unbeatable, right?"

"No. I'm not unbeatable," she corrected him. "I'm just protected from attacks for a limited period of time."

"A limited period?" Yuk asked.

"Three minutes," she specified.

"Three. . ."

"But, let's move to the second stone," she resumed, touching the green stone on the hilt. "Differently from the purple one, this stone acts on the sword only. If you are forced to face enemies which have harder and more resistant weapons, you can make your sword even harder and more resistant by tapping twice on this stone with your finger."

"Are there materials harder than the metal?" wondered Huydai.

"There are a lot of alloys which—" she stopped immediately. "Yes, there are."

Huydai could not figure out what could be harder than metal, but as a goddess said so . . .

"And finally, the yellow stone," she continued, pointing at the third stone on the hilt, "can make you invisible."

"As the invisibility cloak can?"

"Yes, as the invisibility cloak does. While it is difficult to use a sword and attack from under a cloak, with this stone you will be free to fight, without worrying about becoming visible unexpectedly."

"It makes sense," agreed Huydai.

"How do you touch the third stone?" asked Yuk.

"This one is slightly different," she replied. "You must keep a finger on it and say a spell."

Huydai had already asked what a spell was, and the answer had been elusive. This was probably the right moment to try again. "What is a spell?" he asked.

"Umm," Faewal looked for the right words. "An unintelligible sentence."

No, the answer was not what he had expected.

"You must say Tyufil Saragat Wilo Qat," she pronounced slowly, keeping her finger on the yellow stone, and she immediately disappeared.

The two brothers opened their eyes wide.

"Where is she?" Yuk asked his brother. But before Huydai could say a word, Yuk felt something touching him on his right side, and his belt broke suddenly. Luckily, he had good reflexes too, and he caught his trousers before they fell down, leaving him embarrassingly uncovered.
The village was thrilled

The village was thrilled. It was the day of the tournament. The day it would be decided whether Yuk, their beloved Head, would be asked to follow the gods and embark on a mysterious and dangerous mission. The day their quiet lives could be changed, disrupted forever.

Huydai was champing at the bit to start the tournament and win it. It was his golden opportunity to leave the damn village, to find his real people and rejoin them at last. He absolutely could not let his chance escape his grasp, and not only because he could leave the damn village, but also because the alternative was to become the new Head of it. He shivered at the thought. Being the new Head was much worse than being forced to live in the village, and not because of the task itself. Of course he was perfectly able to be the Head of that village of idiots, but leading a bunch of idiots was much worse than growing old and dying amongst them. No, he could not waste his time in leading idiots. He had to win the tournament and be free. He had to.

Yuk felt hopeless. He was perfectly aware that nothing could be concealed from the gods. He knew that he could not lose the tournament on purpose because they would find out and probably punish him. Which punishment could be worse than being forced to leave everything he held dear in the world? He could not imagine anything worse than it, but he knew that the gods could be merciless when it came to disobedience and he did not want to risk it. He had no choice but to do his best and see what results might be. Simply no choice.

Algowagh was overwrought. What would happen if neither of the brothers would win the tournament? What if it was not clear which one was the best? They needed a clear result. Their mission was too important to be compromised by an uncertain result. The entire System depended on it! But, provided that the result would be clear, what if they would not be able to finish the tournament in time? Betwixt Doors to the First Dimension were extremely rare, and they were lucky that one was about to open exactly that evening. The next one would open too late—in one month's time, precisely. One month in Dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven amounted to almost seven days in the First Dimension, but the Spatial-Temporal Abyss needed two scarce days to erase the System's history. It meant that the following Betwixt Door probably would not be there, because, once the history and the books were erased, the Abyss would start eroding the city itself, then the rest of the First Dimension, and finally all the others. Faster and faster. Five days would probably suffice to delete the whole First Dimension. In one month's time, nobody from Dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven would be there to tell whether the following Betwixt Door would open or not. Algowagh was very overwrought.

Faewal was definitely keeping calm. It seemed that all the doubts that plagued Algowagh had not affected her at all. In fact, her years of military discipline had taught her how useless it was to panic for eventualities, simply because they might not occur, and time is too short and precious to be wasted in worrying. The only moment one had to worry about something was the moment something really occurred. So, because they were following their original plan, the brothers were trained and about to start the tournament, and there was no reason why they should not complete all competitions in time, Faewal was not worried at all. In case something went wrong, in case of a real problem occurring, she would find a solution. As simple as that. So, there was nothing to worry about.

Sara seemed finally at ease with her lack of body. She had surrendered to the fact of not having one and thus not being able to take any decision. At least, in the physical sense. She accepted her limited role of counsellor and indeed had started to appreciate it, thinking that she was pretty good at that. Apart from every single detail of the Normans' history, her mind was completely free from any memory, and having no memories of her previous life made her feel that she had nothing to lose. That is why she could face everything with a sort of light-hearted attitude, and not worry about consequences. She perceived the reality like a giant show made especially for her, and she had all intentions of enjoying every single minute of it. If only she could have had a big bucket full of popcorn, Sara would have been completely at ease.

When Algowagh, Faewal and the two brothers entered the area delimited by the green pebbles line, the entire village had already taken up seats all around it, and all gazes were on the four figures in the middle of the arena. Nobody knew it by then, but Algowagh would soon be directing the most impressive and extraordinary event that the village had ever attended. Centuries later, a legend, handed down from fathers to sons, would say that the gods had set up a tournament, lasting a whole day, in order to choose someone from the village to help in a mission that would save the entire world.

Algowagh stopped in the middle of the area and spent a few seconds to catch everybody's attention by looking all around him, then he spoke. He would explain each competition before its start, and report to his audience on each result. Even though he was in a hurry, he could not ignore the little voice inside himself saying that he was a great director, a real showman. "We are here today," he started, coughing affectedly to hook his audience, "to choose the best man who will join goddess Faewal and myself in the most important and dangerous mission a man has ever taken part in."He allowed some seconds to the crowd to be fully impressed by his words. "The tournament that you are about to attend will be made of several competitions aimed at testing Yuk's and Huydai's ability with weapons and divine tools. The result of the tournament will tell us which one is the best man, and it will be given by the results of all competitions. I will progressively explain what Yuk and Huydai are supposed to do in each competition, and whether they succeeded or failed."He stopped a second time to understand the mood of his audience, and got the impression that his explanation had been exhaustive enough to leave no doubts, which confirmed what the little voice inside was saying. "The first competition will test Yuk's and Huydai's skills with arrows."He made a sign to a man who was standing aside, holding the bridles of a pitch black horse, and who started walking towards the middle of the area."There will be no warthogs, but archers will have to hit targets on wooden boards as precisely as possible, in a limited period of time." He pointed at the targets on the sides of the pole forest and added, "every archer will have only one minute."With nonchalance, he extracted the little hourglass from the bag hanging from his shoulder, and childishly gloated amongst the puzzled gazes of the crowd. "Yuk," he finally called. "You will be the first one."

The boy took a deep breath and looked at Algowagh as to accept the challenge, then focused on the hourglass, trying to remember how long one minute was. A quiver filled with arrows had been fastened at the horse's saddle, and when the man with the horse reached him, Yuk undid the knot and put the quiver over his shoulder, before mounting the animal.

As Faewal and Huydai moved away to leave Yuk the scene, Algowagh put a red stone on the ground, just in front of the horse, and announced, "you will start from here. And you can extract your first arrow only after my sign."

Yuk nodded and held the bridles to keep the horse behind the red stone.

Algowagh moved, joining Faewal and Huydai next to the pebbled line, then lifted the hand holding the hourglass and, with an extremely serious expression on his face, turned the object upside-down."Go!" he shouted.

Yuk extracted his first arrow from the quiver and examined it for a few seconds, then looked at the pole forest and spurred the horse. His riding was simply enchanting. Every movement seemed to be part of choreography, and his style was so perfect that it was a pleasure to watch him riding. He shot his arrow so fluidly that the movement seemed to be part of the same riding dance, and nobody could stop looking at him to see where—or better whether—the arrow hit the target. Actually, the first part of the arrow hit a pole so marginally, that it was just a miracle it remained attached to the wood, bending backwards and moving at every single wind blow. The second part of the arrow hit one target at the right side of the pole forest, almost on the edge of the board, but at least more firmly sunk into it than the first part of the arrow was. Yuk had a quick look at the result and then extracted his second arrow, slowing down his horse. Once he had identified his target, he gently pulled the bridles to turn the animal in the opposite direction, and spurred it to go faster. None of his movements were awkward, or simply not part of the same graceful dance, and he continued going back and forth in the area before the pole forest, shooting his arrows for the remainder of his minute. Nobody in the crowd ever looked at the results of his shots—which were all similar to the first one—None of them failed, but they all were very near. Yuk's last arrow hit the pole and the target in the exact moment the last grain of sand passed through the middle of the hourglass, and Algowagh shouted to signal the end of the competition. Yuk had a final look at the pole forest and then turned his head towards Algowagh, waiting for his verdict.

"You made it in time, and you hit all the targets. Good job Yuk, you succeeded," the man attested.

Yuk seemed to forget what winning the tournament meant to him, and proudly smiled. He looked at his brother and saw an expression that he had never seen on Huydai's face before, as if his brother was looking at him for the first time in his life.

"Huydai," Algowagh called. "It's your turn."

Huydai was impressed. As he was always pursuing his personal quest on the Baredust Mountains, he had rarely gone hunting with his brother and had had little occasion to see him riding. Actually, this was the first time he could concentrate his attention on Yuk and really watch him on a horse. Huydai was really impressed. He did not know that his brother could ride a horse with such an elegance and grace. It was true that Yuk's results were almost below average, but that was not the point. Huydai felt that even if his brother had failed, nobody, even the gods, would have admired him less. Admiration, that was Huydai's feeling, and it was the first time he admired his brother.

"Huydai," Algowagh repeated, as the boy seemed not to be keen on moving from next to Faewal.

Huydai woke up from his trance. He looked first at the man and then at the brother who was walking in his direction, pulling the bridles of the horse. When Yuk reached him, handing over the bridles and with a serene smile on his face, Huydai kept a sort of challenging gaze fixed on the brother, until the man in charge of the horse brought him a second quiver full of arrows. Huydai took both the quiver and the bridles of the horse, and briskly jumped on the animal, spurring it to reach the red stone.

Algowagh did not say a word, but as soon as Huydai was behind the sign, he lifted the hand holding the hourglass and turned it upside-down. "Go!" he shouted.

Huydai extracted one arrow and immediately spurred the horse to go to the left. He did not even look at the dart, and rode the animal in such a furious way that had nothing of the elegance and the grace of Yuk's style. He shot, suddenly and so quickly that half of the crowd did not even see him shooting. The first part of the arrow hit a pole and sunk deeply into the trunk, while the second half hit a target on the right side of the forest. Perfectly in its centre. Without even looking at his first result, Huydai extracted a second arrow, which, as for the first one, he did not examine to check the angle but seemed to sense only by touching it. The horse was still running to the left, when Huydai pulled its bridles to make it brusquely turn in. That made the boy seem to fall down, but he somehow manoeuvred to keep his place on the rump of the animal, and shot again, when nobody expected it to happen, and again he perfectly hit the centre of the circle drawn on a board. And again he did not pay attention to the result. Huydai's minute was full of sudden changes of direction, unexpected shots, and near falls from the horse. When he shot his last arrow, which, like all previous ones, hit the centre of a circle, there was still some sand in the upper part of the hourglass. His performance had been so tense, almost painful to watch, that it had seemed endless. Even when he had clearly finished all the arrows in the quiver, and the horse had stopped, nobody could relax until Algowagh finally certified the end of the competition.

"Huydai, you have succeeded," said the man.

Huydai's breathing was accelerated, and he was sweating. He had put all his energy in the competition, as if it was the last one and not the first of the tournament. Nevertheless, he jumped from the horse with such strength, that no one could have ever imagined he still had. He pulled the animal by the bridles in the direction of Yuk, and searched for the brother's eyes to find out whether he had been impressed by the performance, but he could not really interpret Yuk's expression as Algowagh left him no time to study it.

The man called everybody's attention on the second competition. "Now we will test Yuk's and Huydai's ability with different arrows," he started, looking at the brothers in a conspiratorial way. "The aim of this second competition is to be as precise as possible in hitting the centre of only one target from a fixed distance."He walked up to the red stone, took it and brought it where the pole forest ended, at around thirty meters from the big target with seven concentric circles, placed near the mysterious palisade at the other end of the elliptic area."The weapon they will be asked to use is an arrow. A single arrow," he continued, lifting a handholding an arrow. "These are our arrows and, as you can see, they are not double."

An indistinct mumbling rose from the crowd.

"Yuk and Huydai will have only one shot each, and they not only have to hit the board over there," he rose his voice to regain his audience's attention and pointed at the big wooden board, "but also hit it in its inner circle."

People did not understand how it was possible to hit a target with half an arrow. Algowagh could not manage to keep them quiet and continue his explanation, as a good showman should do, but he knew that the brothers knew what they had to do. The noise around him triggered again his panic that the tournament would not finish in time, so he decided not to listen to the little voice inside himself this time, and hurried up."Yuk, will be the first one again," he announced resolutely, ignoring the crowd's growing complaints.

Yuk hesitated for a few seconds, but remembering that Algowagh wanted to finish the tournament before nightfall, he quickly walked towards the red stone. He had a smaller quiver with two arrows over his shoulder, and the bow in one hand. He did not need further explanations because he knew that he had to hit the target while standing still, and he felt confident enough thanks to the training that he had had with the strange arrows. He still had some doubts about aiming at the target, and he did not fully understand why Faewal closed one eye while aiming, but it had to be just a personal behaviour, he thought. He extracted one arrow from the quiver and prepared to shoot. He half-closed his eyes in the attempt to focus on the centre of the small inner circle, but from such a distance, hitting such a small point was, frankly, a question of luck! Instinctively, he closed his right eye for a second, but opened it immediately after, not to give Faewal the impression that he was copying her strange behaviour. He had the feeling that he needed to aim more towards the left, but did not dare to close his eye again, not to offend Faewal who had probably developed such a nervous tic because of the continuous shooting with the weird half arrows. To the crowd, he seemed to have some trepidation just before shooting, and it looked like he was giving up by relaxing his arms, but a second later, he shot.

The entire village held its breath. Yuk's shot did not seem particularly energetic or fast, and the arrow hit the target just on the right edge of the board, sinking very weakly into the wood. A few seconds later, it fell to the ground, and a clear sigh of relief was heard all around.

Yuk was more surprised by his poor result than by the evidence of what his people really wanted the result of the tournament to be. He turned towards Algowagh and formally waited for his verdict.

The man did not seem too impressed, and blankly announced the failure. Then, he called Huydai to start.

The boy walked towards the brother, and when they crossed, midway, Yuk handed him over the quiver and the bow. This time, Huydai looked encouraged and strutted towards the red stone, while putting the quiver over his shoulder. As soon as he reached the sign, he kept his gaze fixed on the target and extracted the only arrow left in the quiver. He closed both eyes, as if he did not need to aim at the target but rather feel the arrow to be part of his own body, and he shot. The arrow flew with a whistle and sunk exactly in the centre of the target's seventh inner circle.

Some amazed Ohs rose from the crowd, but Huydai's exceptional result did not get the due appreciation because very few people truly understood the aim of the competition.

Instead, Faewal was open-mouthed. Of course it could have been a stroke of luck, she told herself, and, in fact, Huydai did not even aim at the target, but the way he had extracted the arrow, the way he had prepared to shoot . . . everything had been special, as if Huydai's energy had really passed, through the bow, to the arrow, and the weapon had become an appendage of his body.

"Huydai, you succeeded," Algowagh proclaimed after a few seconds of suspenseful delay. The man had been impressed too by the peculiar style of the boy, but this did not mean that the final decision had already been taken, as there were other competitions to square off. Without further hesitation, Algowagh reached the group of rocks of different sizes, which had been placed very near the mysterious palisade. "Let's start the third competition," he invited, grabbing one of the two spiked flails lying on the ground next to the rocks, "that will test your precision, as well as how you balance it with your strength."Algowagh had to raise his voice once again because of a disturbing low buzz that started when the crowd saw the spiked flail. "With this weapon, the spiked flail," he whirled it around clumsily, "you have to hit four painted areas on these rocks, and create a hole in each of them. Your aim is to make holes as precisely as possible in order to delete any trace of colour from the areas you have chosen, but beware, you must be precise and not make a hole bigger than the area. With brute force you won't be so accurate to carve it precisely, while if you balance your power, you will be able to make a deep hole in the middle of the stain, and then refine the edges so that you'll carve exactly where the colour ends. Faewal," he addressed the girl, "I think it would be useful to give a quick demonstration. Please, hit four areas of your choice, leaving a thin line to show how precise you have been."

Faewal nodded and took the spiked flail from Algowagh's hand, picking up a second one from the ground. Algowagh and the two brothers moved away, while she stood up in front of a medium-sized rock with three coloured stains on. For a few seconds, it seemed that she was studying the rock, her feet hip-distance apart, while balancing her weight on both legs, and then she started whirling the two flails over her head. At the first blow, the crowd started, but as she proceeded, everybody was completely hypnotised; the goddess was shattering a rock—maybe one of the less feminine things on earth—but she was doing it with the grace of picking daisies on a warm spring day. She did not hit the same stain again and again, but the three of them in turn, starting from the edge, with accurate and neat blows, never too strong, and always remaining behind a very thin line of colour. Once she had defined the areas to be removed, Faewal started to hit the rock with more powerful blows, moving towards the centre and carving the rock deeper and deeper. The sequence of her blows, so regular both in rhythm and intensity, sounded like a tribal music, simple and primitive, going deeper and deeper into everyone's body. Faewal stopped only once, to identify the fourth stain on a second smaller rock, and then she started whirling the flails over her head again and hitting the rock. The same rhythm resumed and hypnotised the crowd again.

It took her seven minutes in total to finish her job, and she left everybody open-mouthed. The four holes resulted clearer in colour than the surroundings areas, and had irregular contours. A closer look would have revealed an extremely thin edge of one millimetre, coloured with the original paint of the stains, indicating the precision of her job, while the surface of the cavities was incredibly smooth, considering the tools that she had used.

"Let's start the real competition!" Algowagh exhorted. "Yuk, please."

The boy approached the flails which Faewal had put down, and examined the result of her job. Surfaces were just perfect, much more regular and smoother than what anybody in the village had ever been able to produce while working stone, which was the hardest material they had ever dealt with. At least, until the moment they discovered the metal. He instinctively lowered his gaze on the metal flails.

"Yuk, please," Algowagh repeated.

Yuk woke up from his thoughts and nodded. He stared at the rocks for a few moments in order to choose his four stains, and finally opted for the biggest among them—the only one with four painted shapes. He took only one flail. The day before, he had tried to use both of them, as Faewal had shown him, but he had not managed to coordinate both arms. As the competition had no time constraints, he had decided to take his time and do a slower, but more accurate job. Following Faewal's example, he hit the edge of the first stain and, once the contour was completed, he attacked the centre, until all traces of colour had been removed. His second stain received exactly the same treatment and, as for the first one, the result was neat and clean. The noise made by the flail hitting the stone was not like the one that Faewal had produced some minutes before, so deep and magical, but rather similar to the noise coming from someone's chest, the noise that was somehow related to life, because it could not be heard any more, once somebody had died.

The last stain was slightly smaller than the previous three. Yuk was tired of hitting with the same arm, and his hand was becoming numb. Almost sixteen minutes had passed, and, even though the result of the tournament was of the utmost importance, people around started to get distracted. When he finally completed his round, he was sweating and was exhausted to the point that the flail slipped from his hand. He raised his gaze and met Algowagh's eyes.

The man approached to have a better look at the edges of the holes and, after a few seconds of silence, he approved with a slow nod. "Huydai," he called turning his head in the direction of the boy, "it's your turn."

Huydai moved towards the group of rocks. He liked the spiked flails, their strange metal balls connected to the metal chain; he liked the metal of them. He enjoyed whirling the ball and feeling, through the wooden handle, the chain rings jerking. Without mentioning the power of the weapon itself—hitting a stone and seeing it scattering in a hundred fragments, just like a piece of wood. . ."Shall I?" he asked impatiently.

"Feel free," replied Algowagh.

Huydai studied the remainder of the rocks. There were more than four painted areas in total—Faewal had arranged in a way that the last participant would not feel disadvantaged by the first one's choice. With a sort of run-up and an exaggerated strength in his blow, he attacked the first stain in its centre. The hole he produced was almost as big as the stain itself. In one hit, he had done nearly the entire job, but the edge, the precision-demanding part, was still to come. Huydai approached the rock and, with some less powerful blows, managed to eliminate what was left of the stain, then he moved away slightly to examine his result before moving to the second stain.

When he had finished digging his third hole, Huydai had the impression that not so much time had passed, and in fact he had started only six minutes before. His gaze stopped on the smallest rock of the group, one with only one stain on. Perfect, he thought, as he would show his superiority with the most difficult area. He moved closer to the small rock and lifted his arm to prepare the blow. A precise blow, right in the centre and well balanced, was all he needed to wipe out any trace of colour and spectacularly show how better he was.

He hit, and the stain disappeared from the rock.

Huydai bent towards to see it better and remained speechless. The cavity was very precise, except for a sliver on the left which interrupted the continuous narrow line of the border that should have certified whether he had succeeded or not.

He heard a sound behind his shoulders and started. Algowagh had approached and he was examining the rock. The man gave Huydai an unmistakable glance, and the boy blushed violently. He had made a mistake. He had lost his advantage over his brother. Huydai lowered his eyes and found it unbearable to feel everybody's gazes on him. Where was Bodlin now? He wanted so badly to run away from all those idiots staring at him!

"Let's move to the third competition." Algowagh's voice resounded firmly and distracted everybody's attention from Huydai. "The spear!"
The strange puppet

The strange puppet in the middle of the tournament area had been the object of the most diverse hypotheses since it was raised on the big pole the previous day. It clearly represented a man, but what the function of the board with the three concentric circles hanging at one end of the horizontal pole was, was very hard to say. The two brothers already knew the weapon, as well as the function of the shield, but their first reaction had been exactly the same that the rest of the people were having in that precise moment.

"This competition will be on a horse," Algowagh started to explain. "The aim is to hit the target with the spear while riding. The nearer to the centre of the inner circle the blow is, the higher the score will be. Each contender has three blows."He put the red stone down on the ground, next to the portion of the pebbled line that was between the pole forest and the group of rocks, and then took the spear and the bridles of a dark brown horse that a man was handing over to him."Huydai," he called. "Let's see how you manage to be the first one this time."

The boy promptly reached Algowagh and took spear and bridles from his hands. He had not spent too much time practicing with the weapon the previous day, and he once more wondered how difficult it was to handle, but even more, he thought how useless the spear seemed to be. He mounted the horse, hindered by the weight of the weapon, and only when his clumsy manoeuvre was over, he remembered Faewal's recommendation to hold the spear after—and not before—mounting the animal. Next time, he thought, secretly happy to have proved that Faewal's sequence was not necessarily the only one. He drove the animal behind the red stone and, as soon as Algowagh gave the signal, he spurred it in the direction of the puppet. His ride was short and impetuous, exactly like the one he had performed earlier.

His first blow hit the target in its second circle and made the puppet turn twice around its axis. He quickly pulled on the bridles and made the horse turn around to check on his first result. Not bad, he thought, looking at the sign on the board, but he knew that he could do much better. He went back to the red stone and spurred the horse again, trying to put all his strength on the arm holding the spear. He could not manage to keep the weapon parallel to the ground, as Faewal had taught him, and it was just unbelievable how he could hit the shield by holding the spear in such an incorrect way. His second blow hit the target inside the first circle, although not in the centre. Passing by the puppet to check on his result, Huydai could not help smirking—he just needed to be a little bit more precise and he would be the winner of that useless competition. But despite all his efforts, he managed to hit only the second circle with his third blow. Needless to say, he looked pretty disappointed while going back to the red stone to give the horse to his brother.

"Yuk," Algowagh invited.

Yuk mounted the horse and took the spear that Huydai had badly sunk into the ground, next to the animal. He too did not understand the practical use of such a weapon, and had not managed to be too precise in his blows while practicing the day before. He got ready behind the red stone, keeping the spear firmly between his arm and his side, and perfectly parallel to the ground, then he slightly moved his weight, as Faewal had taught him, and spurred the horse.

The sound of the blow resounded in the arena, waking everybody from a sort of dream they seemed to have fallen into by watching Yuk's perfect riding style. Pivoting on its axis, the puppet was still completing its turn from the impact of the spear, when Yuk passed next to it to check on his result. The shield had been hit in the third circle, almost at the edge of it. He had to put more effort in it, he thought.

He started again from the red stone, holding the spear perfectly and riding with his impeccable style. As with the arrow competition, he refused to aim by closing one eye, even if it was such an instinctive action. He was so focused on the target that he did not immediately realise what had happened when the sound of the spear striking the board failed to resonate. Nearly falling from the horse, Yuk rotated his chest to look at the target that he had just passed by and that was definitely stationary. He had not even brushed it! He stopped the horse in a less elegant way than the one he had got the audience used to. Obviously, everybody was happy about Yuk losing the tournament, but nobody could avoid being disappointed by such a mistake. Yuk stared at the motionless shield for a few seconds, not believing what he had just done. What annoyed him was not that he had made a mistake, rather making such a stupid mistake and with such a useless weapon! He spurred again the horse to reach the red stone. A hush had fallen all around. He started perfectly, as he had twice already, but there was a different tension this time, something close to anxiety, in his riding.

The sound of the impact seemed louder than the other two, and after the puppet had made just one complete turn, they all saw that Yuk had hit the target just in the second circle.

"Only Huydai succeeded," Algowagh ruled with a touch of hurry in his voice, as his fear of not finishing the tournament in time was coming back. He regretted the moment he had allowed Faewal to include so many competitions, especially some useless ones like the one with the spear. "Now it's time to use the sword," he announced hastily. "You will have to fight a duel with Faewal, and the one who will win against her will succeed in this competition. Remember that you will have to prove your ability not only in handling the sword, but also your shrewdness in using its special powers."He avoided wasting precious time in explaining to the crowd what the purpose of the three stones in the hilt was, but everyone was so concentrated on the sword itself, which had leapt out at them since the two gods had been brought to the village, that nobody realised that some important details had slipped away."Faewal will use her sword, while you will use another one, with the same proprieties of course, which we brought with us in case of any emergency."

To bring or not bring a second sword had been the object of a burning discussion between Faewal and Algowagh before they left their dimension. To Algowagh it was just a precaution, a simple way to get along with possible setbacks. In vain, Faewal had repeated that she could have never fought with a copy of her faithful Silaha. It was simply unconceivable to her. Since she had learnt using the sword, since her father the king had ordered a special one made just for her, out of a secret alloy that only the blacksmith who made it knew, Faewal had never held a sword other than it. Silaha was not just a sword. It was a separate entity. It was her partner. Silaha could not simply be replaced by any other common sword. That was it. Anyway, to bring a second sword had turned out to be useful for the tournament.

Algowagh had entered a smaller area of the arena, also delimited by green pebbles and positioned in front of the group of rocks, on the opposite side of the palisade, which—it was clear now—would be used for the competition with the sword."Yuk will be the first one to challenge Faewal," he announced.

Yuk and Faewal walked to the centre of the area, holding their swords, and stopped in front of each other, waiting for the starting signal.

A deep and muffled sound was heard all around. Algowagh had blown in a sort of little horn, surely from a divine animal, everybody thought, as nobody had ever seen an animal with such short horns.

The two contenders got into a fighting position, with bent knees and their weight distributed on both legs, and studied each other for a while, moving along an imaginary circle to keep the same distance between them. Holding the sword with both hands, Yuk moved his centre of gravity and attacked, cutting through the air on Faewal's left side. As she had guessed the boy's intentions, Faewal dodged right and, taking advantage of his imbalance, she quickly counterattacked and struck his sword. Yuk did not lose grip of the sword only because he was gripping it with two hands, but he was seriously impressed by the speed and strength of Faewal's strike. He had to make the sword more resistant, he thought, trying to remember which of the three stones had such a function. In order to gain some time to remember it, Yuk retreated and finally tapped the green stone twice with his forefinger. The sword shone for a second, and Faewal guessed the boy's intentions again.

"The green stone," Sara exclaimed, as if she was taking part in a quiz show. "He used the green stone to make the sword more resistant. Why?"

"Sara, I'm afraid but I need to concentrate now. I'm glad that you understood, but I assure you that I don't have the faintest idea why he did so. Just watch. In silence, please." Faewal did not answer with her usual annoyed and brusque manner. She replied calmly. Of course, fighting was a high attention-demanding activity, but at the same time it seemed to relax her, as if, however demanding, fighting was really her element. As if she was getting energy from the fight itself.

In that precise moment, Sara realised what being a warrior meant. Not just fighting, but being a warrior, inside, having a warrior's nature. And Faewal was, beyond the shadow of a doubt, a true warrior.

Of course, Faewal did not want to hurt Yuk. They were not enemies, and her aim was only to test his ability. She opted for a weak strike so that, in case she did injure him, the wound would not be too deep. Not to mention that, if he turned out to be the one, it would not be particularly wise to have an injured warrior with them! She moved her weight on the right leg and struck. She was holding Silaha with one hand. It was not whether one held the weapon with two hands that decided the strength of the strike, but rather the delivery of the strike itself. Andin any case, she had never held Silaha with two hands—it was such a lack of style!

Yuk parried and slid to one side, quickly getting balanced again to counterattack. His second strike came from the bottom and hit Faewal's right side. In the moment she saw it coming, Faewal brushed the purple stone with her finger and, when the blade touched her body, she felt the bump and met Yuk's eyes.

When the sword separated from Faewal's body, the crowd could not repress an astonished Oh, as they all realised that the goddess had not been wounded at all. Yuk too was surprised—but most of all relieved—and after a few thoughtful seconds, he also brushed the purple stone thrice.

Now that her adversary was protected against her blows, Faewal was considering her next move, when something odd caught her attention. Yuk was smirking and tiptoeing towards her.

"Oh my God! I can't believe it!" Sara burst out. "He thinks he's invisible!"

Faewal did not answer. She was too surprised to confirm such a stupid mistake and could not keep her eyes off Yuk who was approaching with stealthy footsteps and holding his breath.

Not knowing the properties of the sword and thus not understanding what was going on, the rest of the village kept quiet, trusting that their Head knew what he was doing. But Huydai, who knew well what was going on, could not believe his eyes.

When Yuk was near enough to be reached by Faewal's sword, the girl, who had pretended not to see him until then, hit the boy's sword just above the hilt. The surprise was so big that Yuk dropped his sword, which felt at his feet, and, without even realising what was going on, he found the sharp end of Silaha at his throat.

And it was clear to everybody that Yuk had just lost the duel.

After a few seconds of disbelief for such an unexpected conclusion, Algowagh regained control of the situation. Only the duel between Faewal and Huydai was left, before the labyrinth. It was almost noon, and, unfortunately he thought, they had to pause to eat something. The two brothers were visibly tired, and it would have not been wise to have them facing the labyrinth in such conditions. "Huydai, it's your turn now," he called. "Then we will pause for one hour . . . I mean for a while to eat and we'll resume quickly after."

It was like a signal. Women stood up and disappeared behind the tents. It was not the right moment to ask where they had gone, Algowagh told himself, and, actually, they could have gone wherever they wanted, as he did not really care. He just wanted to finish in time.

Meanwhile, Huydai had replaced his brother in the middle of the circle. Faewal was standing in front of him, quite relaxed, as if the duel with Yuk had not affected her at all. In fact, she was used to far more demanding duels, and her physical stamina was remarkable.

Algowagh gave the signal, and the two contenders assumed the on-guard position, studying each other but without moving.

Huydai was holding the sword with one hand only, like Faewal, and looked much more confident than the brother. Faewal wondered why he had not attacked immediately, as this was the kind of behaviour she would have expected from someone like him, rather than the brother, but Huydai was still. Still, with all muscles tensed like an elastic band, ready to react to her attack, but clearly with no intention to be the first one to move. He wanted to keep an advantage and waited for Faewal to lay herself open to his attack. He was smart, she thought. He knew that they did not have all the time in the world and that she would have been forced to attack, sooner or later, if she wanted to finish the tournament and leave for the mission in time. So, she decided not to waste any more time. She moved her centre of gravity towards him and attacked. The strike was of an average intensity, and Huydai parried it with no particular effort, still holding the sword with one hand, and moved backwards to a defensive position.

Again, Faewal thought.

"Again what?" asked Sara who was surely full of good qualities, but clearly lacked military skills.

"He doesn't attack. He forces me to attack first in order to have a moment where he knows what I want to do, but I don't know what he wants to do. A moment where I am vulnerable. He knows very well that we cannot lose time and that we have to leave by this evening."

"If it is such a big problem, why don't we use the next Betwixt Door?"

"Because the next Betwixt Door will open too late."

"How late? I mean, I agree that things can be really boring here, but at least we will have the time to choose carefully the man we need and—"

"Much too late. Trust me," Faewal cut her short.

Sara shut up. She really did not see the problem in staying some more days in that dimension, apart from the breakfasts of course, but she could have got used to them, she trusted.

Faewal attacked. Her strike was much stronger, and the point of Silaha cut the boy's trousers' leather on his left tight, brushing his skin and producing a superficial wound that started bleeding.

He looked at the injury and then met the girl's eyes. With a feline jump, he moved away to return to the defensive position he seemed to like so much, then looked at Faewal, as to challenge her, and brushed the purple stone three times, slowly, as if he was an actor on stage. She could have hit him as many times as she liked now, but he would be immune to any further injuries.

Faewal attacked with more determination and with the precise intention to disarm him. She started hitting just above the hilt, with such violent strikes that Huydai had to draw back and parry at the same time, and that made him finally hold the sword with both hands, but not before beating on the green stone with his forefinger.

The sword glimmered, and Faewal had to move back because of the rebound with Huydai's harder weapon. He had now secured his body and made his sword much more powerful. He felt as safe as houses.

He was quite far from the girl, almost at the edge of the duel area, when a flash crossed his eyes, and everything that followed happened in seconds. He ran towards Faewal, extremely fast, and just before reaching her, she noticed his lips moving as to whisper something.

"What did he say?" asked Sara in the moment Huydai disappeared.

Faewal did not move. She knew that if there was a chance to intercept the strike, it was now or never. It was the only moment when she could guess where he was and where the attack would most likely come from, because she remembered his position just before disappearing, and he was so near to her that he could not have changed it too much. It was her only chance to parry his attack, because once he had struck, assuming that the strike would not have hit her, his next move would have been impossible to guess, as he would have remained invisible. She closed her eyes and lifted the arm with Silaha.

"What are you doing? You close your eyes now?" Sara screamed, scared by the unexpected darkness, just until she heard the sound of the two swords striking each other.

Faewal opened her eyes in the moment Huydai lost his grip on the hilt, and his sword leaped to the left, landing around three meters from him. In that moment he became visible again and remained still and stunned, trying to understand what had just happened.

The audience was struck dumb. They had seen Huydai disappearing and reappearing, but it had been so quick that many amongst them though it to be only a funny trick of their eyes. The only thing they were sure about was that Huydai had been disarmed, and that Ryfjow's daughter had defeated both brothers.

"None of the contenders succeeded," Algowagh declared pitiless. "Now let's briefly pause for food and rest."

Yuk admired the way his brother had managed the duel, how appropriately he had used the sword's three divine powers, and how honourably he had lost against Faewal, who was, beyond the shadow of a doubt, an excellent warrior. "A big table has been prepared behind the stilt house," he then announced loudly, remembering his Head of village's duties. "It will accommodate all of us."

Algowagh was caught on the wrong foot. A banquet?

"Because the winner will have to leave the village immediately," Yuk explained him in the most hospitable way, "we would like to celebrate the departure with a banquet."

"Double roasted warthog for everybody!" said Sara ironically.

When she saw Algowagh's disconcerted expression, Faewal could not repress an amused smile. "Don't worry," she said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. "We have enough time. We will make it."

"Idiots!" he hissed. "Underdeveloped, uncivilised, idiot cavemen!"

"I promise you that I will help you to bring them all back here in due time," she reassured him.

"One hour," he said brusque, without even looking at her. "One hour," he repeated, walking furious towards Yuk's house.
The banquet

The banquet lasted almost two hours and reminded Faewal of the court parties that filled the stories Nimgirith's mother used to tell to the kids before they went to sleep. Even though not as sumptuous as such parties, the banquet was laden with the same joyful atmosphere. The gender division seemed to be completely forgotten, and women were finally speaking freely with everyone, men and women, known and unknown, without lowering their eyes or feeling guilty.

Algowagh was clearly restless. He had not stopped grumbling and grousing for a single second, his words becoming more and more choleric, and it was now clear even to the less shrewd ones that something was wrong with him.

Faewal was enjoying the banquet so much, that it did not take long to forget the promise she had made. It was the last chance for the brothers to be together, and she felt that she owed it to them. The labyrinth was not endless, she thought, and there was no reason for not making it in time. Algowagh was getting old and too upset by his own fears. He just needed to relax, exactly as she was doing.

"You should drink less of that yellowish stuff, you know?"Sara perceived Faewal's thoughts fluttering in her mind. She actually saw them, like endless sentences passing in front of her eyes, speeding up and slowing down in an imaginary race. When it was exactly in front of her, every word grew bigger, as if magnified, and in that moment it was the most important word in the sentence, the key to understand the whole thought, but the second after it slid aside, giving way to the following one that took not only the place but also the importance of the first, as if the latter had never had a meaning or had never existed at all.

"I'm fine, Sara. Stop worrying. It's just a fermented drink. It's not strong."

"Well, you look drunk."

"Come on! Drunk. You don't know what it takes to make me drunk!"She stood up, lifting her glass for a toast, but her legs did not support her weight, and she fell back on the chair.

"You are drunk," Sara confirmed.

Algowagh covered his face with both hands, rubbed his eyes full of despair, and finally stood up. "I understand how important this moment is for you all," he started, keeping his voice as calm as possible, "but it's really time to resume our tournament now."He looked eloquently at the two brothers. "I thus invite you to take your seats at the arena and start as soon as possible."He walked resolutely towards Faewal, took one of her arms and put it around his neck, then put his own arm around her waist and tried to lift her."Stand up!" he ordered. "And thanks a lot for your help."

"She cannot follow the tournament in such conditions," Yuk said, approaching.

"Of course she can't! Now you two will go into the labyrinth, and I assure you that she will be ready to leave when you are done! Now, help me. I want to take her to the tent."

Algowagh put Faewal on the grey fur bed without trying to be too delicate. He was furious with her. "Yuk, you can go. I'll come in a moment."

The young man left the tent without a word and with his head already busy thinking about the labyrinth.

"Can you hear me?" Algowagh asked, sitting next to Faewal on the fur.

No reply. Faewal was sleeping like a baby.

"Sara, I know you can hear me," he tried again after a few seconds. "Listen to me carefully. You have to wake her up as soon as possible. I will test the brothers in the labyrinth, but we don't have too much time. The Betwixt Door will open this evening at dusk."He quickly glanced at the tool at his wrist, which looked like a clock but was not. "In three hours and fifteen minutes, precisely."

Of course she understood that the Door would open that evening, there was no need to repeat it a dozen times! She would have wanted to reply that if they had missed it, another one would open after a while. There was no need to stress it so much.

"There won't be another one," Algowagh added, with a threatening tone in his voice. "Do you understand? We won't have another chance to enter the First Dimension. This evening's will be the last Door for us."

The last one? In which sense?

"Then the System will disappear," he whispered at Faewal's ear.

Sara would have wanted to look in his eyes, but Faewal's ones were closed. She wanted to know if such a threatening tone in Algowagh's voice corresponded to an equally threatening expression on his face, or if it was just a way to cover the despair that was probably clear in his eyes. She would have wanted to ask him a thousand other things, but she could do nothing at all, not even a sign to indicate that yes, she had understood all that he had said, and that yes, she had realised how bad the situation was, and that yes, Faewal was really, really stupid and irresponsible, and that she wanted to go out of the body of such a stupid and irresponsible person, because she did not feel safe inside there any more!

"Please, Sara," he said with a much sweeter tone. "Please. I will do my part and find out who our man is. Please do yours and put Faewal back on her feet as quickly as possible. We absolutely need to cross using that Door. Please. . ."He stood up and turned his back to the bed, going out of the tent and walking resolutely towards the tournament area where the entire village was waiting.

The labyrinth was opposite to the pole forest, at the other end of the ellipse. It was so big that it occupied almost one quarter of the tournament area, and it had not been possible to make it smaller, because there were seven different challenges for the brothers inside and they each needed sufficient space.

"Now Huydai and Yuk will enter the labyrinth where they will face seven different situations to overcome," Algowagh started.

"Seven," repeated Yuk, as if somehow discouraged.

"They will take weapons with them. Some are the ones they proved to be able to manage this morning, while others are divine weapons they got familiar with yesterday."He lifted a leather shoulder bag in which some arrows, a sword hilt, and a dark piece of cloth were partially visible. The bag had small pockets outside, filled with transparent objects closed by cylindrical pieces of a strange wood with many little holes, and other indistinguishable things. "I won't give any explanation this time on what Huydai and Yuk are about to face. The only thing I can say is that their rapidity in choosing the right weapon is the key to their success into the labyrinth. And now let's start without any further hesitation. Yuk, please," he invited.

Yuk approached and took the bag from the Algowagh's hands. He looked in his eyes for a few seconds and then proceeded towards the labyrinth that the man was indicating with one hand. The entrance was the only breach in the palisade delimiting the irregular area of the labyrinth, and it was so narrow that it allowed the passage of only one person at the time.

As soon as he had crossed the breach, Yuk had the impression that the palisade had moved behind him, closing the passage that he had just gone through. The walls did not look particularly high from outside, but once inside, he could merely see the sky above. He had the feeling that what was surrounding him was somehow alive. He cautiously proceeded and, after some tight bends, found himself in a larger space, filled with a dense fog. Instinctively, he slid his hand in the bag and started rummaging. He should have had a look inside the bag, he told himself, in order to have an idea of its content, so he turned the bag upside-down, emptying it and scattering its content all around on the ground that was covered by a short grass of a weird green colour. At his feet there was now a quiver with some arrows—the single ones of course—a sword, the invisibility cloak, two daggers, a long rope, a bow . . .

A bow?

The bag was definitely smaller than a bow, but the weapon had fallen out without any effort and without him noticing its presence before. Yuk was confused. Weird things happened in the labyrinth! He kept rummaging in the bag's pockets and found the Stone Potion flask, the Ice Potion phial, one Shield Potion marble, and the thin, rose pink pencil. He stared at all the things he had scattered on the grass and tried to memorise them. What he had understood was that he had to react quickly as soon as something happened. Of course, he did not have the faintest idea what that something could be, but he tried to be prepared for all eventualities. He looked up and realised that the fog had disappeared, while there was a very high wall in front of him, so high that he could not see its end, and which reached the labyrinth walls on both sides. For a moment, he thought that he might have taken the wrong path, but when he turned his back, he saw that the corridor he had come from had disappeared. No, he had not taken the wrong path. He was exactly where he had to be. In front of the first challenge.

He put everything back in the shoulder bag—even the bow—with no difficulties and approached the wall to examine it. It was made of little pieces of the same rectangular shape and of a material that looked very much like stone. But of course it was not, because nowhere one could have found so many stones of exactly the same shape and, more importantly, of such a weird red colour. The contact points between rectangles were narrow grey lines that built a sort of regular and endless spider net. The surface was so perfectly uniform that, by touching the wall with closed eyes, Yuk could not tell where the red stone ended and where the grey lines begun. The wall was smooth, without handholds or cavities, at least as high as Yuk could reach with his outstretched arms, and it was clear that he had to get past it.

He pondered for a few moments and started rummaging in the little pockets of the bag in search of ideas. The wall was so high that he could get past it only by flying. Yuk smirked. He extracted the pink pencil and drew a circle on the green grass, all around himself. In a moment, he was inside the air bubble and started to go up as Algowagh had taught him to do.

The brick wall seemed endless, as were the walls of the labyrinth, but Yuk was finally able to glimpse the edge of it. Once there, he made a step to go beyond it and looked down, but saw nothing but thick, white fog. He could not tell how far away from the ground he was and how much time had passed. He knew that the bubble lasted for five minutes, but he had no clue really how much time five minutes was. If he only had had the funny tool that Algowagh used to measure time! Anyway, he had to go down, better as soon as possible.

He started to walk as if he was going down some stairs, but with a very uncomfortable feeling, and even if he tried to hurry, not knowing how much time or space was still left did upset him. And the fog did not help of course.

Suddenly, he heard a rustling sound. He could not tell where it was coming from, but it took him a second to guess what was going on. His first instinct was to wrap his arms around his bent legs, and bend his neck as much as possible to protect his head between his knees. He had never fallen from such a height before and had no idea whether this position would protect him from the impact or not. He was prepared to smash violently into the ground, when he realised that he was already on the green grass. He opened his eyes and saw no fog around him any more, but just the grass and the brick wall. And a long and narrow corridor ahead. He felt ridiculous in such a position and quickly stood up, adjusted the strap of the bag, and started to walk into the long and narrow corridor.

After a series of tight bends, the corridor widened, and the grass disappeared from the ground, giving way to a line of big stone slabs, of a grey colour, laying on a layer of ochre powder.

Yuk felt something moving under his feet and merely had the time to step on the following slab, when the one he had initially stepped on started to crumble and disappeared into a black chasm so deep he could not see the end. He stared at the black hole, more surprised than frightened, and actually, he had no time to get frightened, because the second slab too started to crumble under his feet, and he had to jump on the next one. One after the other, all the slabs crumbled, leaving a black hole that became bigger and bigger behind Yuk. I just have to keep jumping until the end of these funny stones, he thought, comforted by the sight of end of the slabs line. Unfortunately, the first slab at the end of the line started to crumble at that very moment, and in the twinkling of an eye, Yuk found himself standing on the last slab of the whole line, completely surrounded by the black, endless chasm.

The last slab crumbled, of course, and Yuk felt himself falling down in a way that he had never expected to fall, as if his body had no weight at all.

"Faewal, Faewal, Faewal. . ."

Sara had been repeating the name of her host like a whining lament for at least five minutes. She tried to scream, but she was not sure whether one could scream in the mind of somebody else. She tried to explain, to tell Faewal that she knew the truth, that Algowagh had told her, and that it could have been better if she had told her first, so that she could have stopped her from drinking the disgusting yellowish liquid that had made her drunk.

Instead of waking up Faewal, the lament seemed to make Sara sleepy, but she could not fall asleep because she was scared as she had ever been in her entire life. Or so she thought.

Yuk landed, without hurting himself as he had expected. He landed exactly between Algowagh and his brother, not far from the labyrinth entrance. He opened his eyes and looked pretty disoriented, which was the same expression on his brother's face and on practically everyone else's. Nobody had seen him coming, and he had just arrived as he had fallen from the sky.

"I would say that you didn't succeed," said Algowagh calmly, taking the bag from Yuk's shoulder.

Yuk stared at him, as the man moved away to check on the content of the bag.

With a rapid movement, Algowagh put something in it and then handed over the bag to Huydai. "You chose the wrong weapon," he explained to Yuk, and then addressed his brother, "it's your turn."

Algowagh looked more relaxed. He would not have imagined that the first brother would have made a mistake so quickly. There was much more time now, and if Huydai failed too, he would have to choose the best one on the basis of the previous competitions. And they would leave in time. Provided that Faewal had sobered up, but he was sure that Sara had understood how serious the situation was and that she would manage to solve it, one way or another.

Huydai slung the bag over his shoulder and nodded to Algowagh, then turned towards the labyrinth and crossed the breach.
The labyrinth

The labyrinth's walls are not so high, Huydai thought, passing through the breach. Once in, he had the feeling that he was not alone, as if what was surrounding him was somehow alive. The corridor was narrow, like the entrance he had just come through, and so full of bends that after a while he lost his sense of direction. Luckily, he had not found forks yet, so he was not too concerned about the direction for the moment.

While deep in these thoughts, Huydai found himself in a wider space. The labyrinth's walls had curved out smoothly, moving away from him, and the claustrophobic sensation that he had felt at the beginning had finally left him. Everything was broader, but so full of a white, thick fog that he could not really tell how large the space was or what was ahead of him. He slowed his pace and looked carefully where he was stepping, in order to avoid surprises. He was walking on something soft that reminded him of grass and that actually looked like grass, apart from the strange green colour. But gods were strange, he knew, and it was not worth wondering about. He had seen too many strange things during the last few days to still wonder about strangeness.

He raised his gaze and realised that the fog had completely disappeared. In front of him was a red wall, so high that he could not see the end of it, and that was blocking his way. The first challenge, he thought, approaching it for a closer look. The wall was absolutely smooth, with no handholds or cavities, and looked pretty solid. One could have said that it was made of stone, if only the colour had not been what it was.

Huydai removed the bag from his shoulder and emptied it on the grass. "Warrior weapons and divine weapons," he thought out loud. "I would like to use a potion, but something tells me that it is better to keep divine weapons for later. After all, a wall can be climbed." So he put all the divine weapons back into the shoulder bag and observed the warrior ones with more attentiveness. He took the sword and, after pondering on its use for a few seconds, he decided that it was not the correct tool and put it back into the bag, then he carefully studied what was left on the grass and finally took his decision. He unrolled the rope, cut it in half with one of the daggers, and slid both daggers between his belt and his trousers, then he took two arrows from the quiver, tied a piece of rope to each fletching, put one arrow back into the quiver, and slung the quiver over his shoulder. He nocked the arrow to the bowstring and took a few seconds to calculate what the right trajectory would be. Then he shot.

He did not aim too high. The arrow whistled and sank deeply into the wall, allowing the end of the rope to swing at a height that Huydai could easily grab. He pulled on it with all his strength to test the stability of the arrow and, as he thought it was firm enough, he put the bow over his shoulder and hoisted himself up on the rope, climbing the wall. As he neared the arrow, he managed to stick the daggers into the wall, as low as possible, and stepped on them, then he tied the rope around his waist to secure himself and shot the second arrow that he had prepared. He removed one dagger to cut the first rope just under the knot on the fletching, grabbed the second rope that was swinging next to him, removed the last dagger, and hoisted himself up to the second arrow. He went on this way until he reached the top of the wall, with the last arrow of his quiver and the last piece of rope.

He sat on the edge of the wall, uselessly looking into the thick fog, and rested for one minute, thinking of the best way to go down from there. The two daggers were still between his belt and the trousers, and he could feel their points pressing on his legs. "Tiring but feasible," he said to himself in a loud voice. He took the daggers and stuck them into the wall, next to the edge, then grabbed both of them and slid down along the wall until he dangled from it.

The strain he had to put in in the descent was more intense than the one he used for climbing, and when he finally reached the base of the wall, his forearms were so painful that Huydai thought he had broken them. He lay down on the grass with eyes closed to rest for a moment and when he opened them again, it was as if the labyrinth had been transformed. The wall and the fog had disappeared, and he was between the narrow wooden walls of the corridor again. He stood up, and after another series of tight bends, he finally found himself in front of a ten-meter grey slab line, lying on a thin ochre powder.

He stepped on the first slab, but when his whole weight was on it, he felt that the stone was breaking. Instead of jumping on the following slab, Huydai moved one step backward on the green grass, and watched the unnaturally coloured slabs crumbling one after the other into a black chasm so deep he could not see the end. The ten meters disappeared quickly in an unpleasant and disturbing rumble, and when silence returned, Huydai pondered on the situation and finally extracted the thin, pink pencil from one pocket of the shoulder bag. He drew a circle on the grass and, once the air bubble was completely formed around him, he started to walk confidently over the long dark hole until he reached its end and punched the bubble with the sharp point of the dagger.

The crowd was more and more noisy and restless. By then, it was clear to everyone that Huydai was taking more time than the brother into the labyrinth, and this could have meant either that he had overcome the obstacle that had stopped Yuk or that he had been trapped in another strange contraption that the god Algowagh had invented. In both cases, the crowd wanted to know.

Yuk looked restless too. After recovering from the mysterious and unexpected fall from the sky, he had inquired several times about what was happening to his brother, without getting an answer apart from he's facing his challenges.

Algowagh could not concentrate on what he had in his hand. He was trying to follow Huydai through his Remote Vision Sphere—more ordinarily called a crystal ball—but Yuk's continuous peep, his unceasing questioning, and the rising hubbub all around made him lose his concentration. So he thought that he might just as well give them all what they wanted and finally follow Huydai's performance in peace. "Move," he ordered to Yuk. "Do you want to know what's happening inside there?" he asked loudly to the village, pointing at the palisade.

The hubbub ceased immediately, and, after a few moments, a shy Yes rose from the crowd.

Algowagh opened the hand holding the sphere and started rotating his arm and uttering the incantation. The sphere begun to radiate a pale green light, growing bigger and bigger as the man continued the spell. When the object became too big for Algowagh's hand, he gently pushed it up, and the sphere kept on rotating by itself while growing, until its diameter was approximately three meters. It stopped moving when it was exactly above the centre of the arena, where everyone could easily see it.

The crowed stared in silence at the small sun, which had appeared from the god Algowagh's hands, and of which they were unable to understand the function. But it was not over yet. Algowagh was still saying strange words when, little by little, everybody realised that something was changing inside the sphere. There were images becoming more and more clear and that finally showed a figure which was moving, no, actually walking, yes walking or no, not really, rather flying, as if . . .

"Huydai!" Yuk exclaimed, recognising his brother.

A murmur came from the crowd. Of course, it was Huydai! Nobody could have ever imagined that Huydai was able to walk in the air!

"Of course! The air bubble was for the second challenge," Yuk told himself, once his amazement in seeing his brother walking above everybody's head was over. "And that's also why I fell on the ground . . . I was in that big sun up there too!"Actually, he was not completely sure of what had really happened to him. There were too many divine things to concentrate on to really understand what was going on. But gods were such, and men could not expect to understand everything or they would have not been men, but gods as well.

Huydai could not know that the entire village was watching him, but had he known it, he would not have behaved differently. While during the morning games he had constantly put himself in competition with the brother, something had changed since he was inside the labyrinth, but he could not tell what it was. He still could not manage to estimate time properly and was not sure whether he had overcome the obstacle that had stopped his brother or not, but he was more and more inclined to believe that the labyrinth was a way to test himself, to understand his own value, rather than being a confrontation with the brother. It was as if passing through the breach had finally made him grow, as if the breach was in fact the passage to make him a man.

He had left the chasm behind him for some minutes already and he was walking on the soft and strange green grass along the winding corridor, when he realised that something was on its way.

The third challenge, he thought.

It was a long ladder, neither straight nor vertical, but arched and very big. It was as wide as the corridor, so that it was not possible to proceed without walking on it. At the top, its height was at least two meters, but it was not easy to guess exactly, because the ladder was too long to see its end. Huydai checked that the shoulder bag was well secured on his shoulder, its contents easy to reach, and then started climbing on the rungs.

The ladder had light blue reflections and reminded Huydai of ice, except that it was not, because it was not as cold as ice was. The material was very similar to the one the little potion containers were made of, and of which he had forgotten to ask the name.

All of a sudden, something glowing and coming from under the ladder, brushed his cheek. Huydai heard a sharp sound and felt a pain on his face. He touched the cheek and realised that his skin had been burned, but he had no time to worry because another glowing thing passed in between his feet and bounced against the ladder, getting caught between two rungs.

An arrow. With fire on the arrowhead!

Huydai was still on the same rung, when a large number of arrows started flying in all directions. He instinctively protected his face with his arms and stepped on the following rung, when he felt a sharp pain in his left thigh. Another dart had brushed him, and his trousers caught fire. He did not think too much and tried to extinguish the fire with his hands—which was painful of course—but luckily the fire had not spread much, and eventually he managed. The number of darts intensified, and the risk of being hit grew so quickly, that Huydai had to make his next move straightaway. He put his hand into the bag and extracted the Shield Potion. It lasted one minute—whatever it meant—and he could not see the end of the damn ladder, but the Shield Potion was the only solution he could think of at the moment. The problem was how to break the marble at his feet without throwing it between two rungs and wasting the potion on the grass, two meters under. But then he figured it out. He put the marble in his half-closed palm and very quickly hit the rung he was on with the little glass ball, breaking it and dispersing the dark green gas, which immediately formed a protective sphere around him. He breathed a big sigh of relief and looked at his bleeding palm, full of glass slivers, but he had no time to worry, he said to himself, because he had to run to the end of the ladder. He had only one minute.

At the first dart coming straight against his face, he hesitated a few seconds, but when he saw it being deviated by the Shield Potion, Huydai felt confident and concentrated his attention only on the ladder and its rungs. He ran until he realised that the ladder was steeper and sloping down, and that the darts had stopped flying around him and the corridor was again dark as it was before. The protective sphere disappeared, and Huydai stepped down from the last rung, feeling safe and turning towards the ladder just in time to see the same thick fog wrapping it.

This made him feel as if the labyrinth itself was pushing him to move forward, and so he did. After some tight bends, he found himself in front of a fork. It was not as he would have expected a fork to be, but rather like something that he would not even have noticed if he had been walking faster than he actually was. The fork was a narrow and very dark path on the left that, luckily for him, piqued his curiosity. This is a kids' trick, he thought, as the correct path is the less obvious one.

So he chose it.

And he was right, because the bigger path would have lead him back to the space before the bricks wall, which he would not have been able to overcome this time, as he had no more arrows, rope or daggers. On the contrary, the small path he had just chosen widened and, after another series of tight bends, opened out, becoming a very large space full of rounded columns of a very dark blue colour, streaked with pale blue, around three meters tall, and ending with a very peculiar capital. Disturbing rather than peculiar, he thought.

It was a huge eye, intensely blue and with extremely long eyelashes. The columns did not seem to have a regular arrangement, but were rather like plants growing in a forest. Each capital was connected to its neighbours through delicate and pale blue arches, forming a fascinating web, and the entire structure held up a light piece of cloth of an ivory colour that gave the impression of a full sail, even though there was not a breath of wind around.

Huydai slowed down and looked around carefully. He expected something to happen at any moment, and actually, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a shadow passing through the columns. He stopped, keeping as quiet as possible.

Another shadow passed, followed by a soft rustling. It looked like a person wrapped in a long cloak, or so Huydai thought.

A third shadow sprang out from the nearest column, apparently without noticing the boy, and moved slowly, crossing Huydai's field of vision and disappearing behind another column, not far from the previous one.

Now he was sure. They were persons with long and dark—maybe black—cloaks and hoods on their heads, which looked disproportionately big, but it could as well have been an illusion caused by the hood, he thought.

Then, he noticed that the corridor resumed after the space filled with columns, and, as the distance to reach it looked extremely limited, Huydai could not figure out what the challenge was. Trying to be as silent as possible, he proceeded to the nearest column on his right.

And he saw it, right in front of him. The funniest being that he had ever seen in his life.

The cloak hid an improbable body with two thin and extremely long legs, each ending with a sort of short and rounded cylinder, very similar to the base of the columns. The legs supported the trunk of the body, which was another short and squat cylinder, not more than twenty centimetres tall, on which stood a very big, pear-shaped head. The lower part of the face was completely occupied by a big, blue eye weirdly staring at him.

The being started to scream—or better emit a shrill and prolonged noise—and Huydai could not tell from where such a scream was coming out, as the face had no mouth, and the noise was so piercing that he could not even think properly. The scream drew other beings that gathered and started screaming together in front of Huydai whose nerves seemed to break under such an unbearable sound.

So he ran, as fast as he could, in the direction he had come from, back to the corridor, and turned into the first bend. And the screaming ceased.

Huydai stopped and looked back. Nobody was following him, as he would have expected. He waited a few seconds and then walked back, slowly, sidling along the corridor's walls and ready to run again. When he finally reached the space filled with columns, nobody was there. The strange beings had completely disappeared. Vanished.

He prudently walked on the green grass, holding his breath, when a shadow crossed, just in front of him, and just like before, springing from one column and quickly disappearing behind the next one.

Soon after, another shadow rustled against him and disappeared.

Huydai had almost reached the next column, when he found himself face to face with one of those beings who started screaming and drawing other beings with its scream. He jumped behind a column, and, in the exact moment he disappeared from their sight, the beings stopped screaming.

After a short thinking, Huydai decided to carry out a little test. He leaned his head from behind the column to be visible, and when the beings that were already floating away saw him, they started to scream. He then hid, and the scream ceased. Now he was sure about his theory.

He extracted the invisibility cloak from the shoulder bag, wore it, and moved from behind the column. The beings had vanished. He started to walk, crossing the area in the direction of the corridor, with beings passing beside him now and then. All of a sudden, he found himself so near to one of them that he could not avoid bumping in. The being looked puzzled, blinking several times with the eyelashes of his only eye and attempting to identify what had hit him, but finally gave up and resumed his walk, disappearing behind a column. Without a scream.

Huydai quickly walked through the columns, dodging the funny creatures, until he reached the entrance of the corridor. He looked back at the strange column woods and removed the invisibility cloak that fell at his feet, becoming a light brown powder, then turned again and walked towards the next challenge.

"Sara stop it," Faewal protested weakly. "You will burst my eardrums."

Sara saw the daylight filtering from the tent and realised that Faewal had finally opened her eyes. "My God, Faewal! Are you awake?"

"Of course I am. Anyone would be awake with someone so noisy inside."

"Faewal, the situation is bad. Much worse than you think!"

"Which situation?"

"Our situation! What else?"

"What's so bad with our situation?" asked Faewal, trying to sit on the fur without success.

"You mean that Algowagh explained the situation to me and not to you?" Sara wondered.

"Algowagh?!"It was like a rude awakening for Faewal. Did Algowagh tell Sara his entire bunch of alarming theories? "What did he exactly tell you?"

"He told me the truth! He told me that the Door that will open this evening will be the last one!"

"Oh, please! Doors open and close continuously. Algowagh should stop being so negative."

"It's true! It's the last one, and then the entire System will disappear!"

"I hate him when he passes his anguish to other people," Faewal commented. "Now, don't you worry, Sara. Let's see how far they are with the tournament, and then we will cross through that damn Door, ok?"

Sara seemed cheered up by Faewal's words. "So . . . shall we go?" she asked after a few seconds.

"Yes. Let's go," Faewal's tone sounded a little embarrassed.

"When?"

"Oh Sara, give me a break!"

Sara waited another few seconds. "Is it . . . is everything ok?"

Faewal sighed. "Yes, everything is ok. I'm just stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Kind of . . . blocked."

"Blocked?"

"Yes, blocked. But I will unblock."

"You will unblock?"

"Yes."

"How?"
He had reached the middle

He had reached the middle of the labyrinth, or so he thought since he had overcome four challenges out of seven. Huydai was walking along the tight bends, that had a sort of relaxing effect on him, and mentally going over the weapons left in the bag. The sword, which he had not used yet, the daggers, which he had used but had not disappeared like all the other weapons, and the Stone and Ice potions. Three challenges and four weapons. Strange. Or maybe not, as he had once used two weapons for one challenge. The two daggers would be useful again, he said to himself, touching his belt where he had slid the dagger used to punch the air bubble, but the dagger was not there. Maybe I put it in the bag, he thought and started rummaging in the shoulder bag. As he could feel nothing similar to a dagger, he stopped, removed the bag from his shoulder, and threw its contents on the grass. The Ice Potion, the Stone Potion and the sword. No trace of daggers.

He shook the bag vigorously, but nothing else came out. Feeling less comfortable than just few minutes before, he took a deep breath and slowly put everything back into the bag. He slung the bag's strap over his shoulder again, his gaze still low on the bag hanging loose at his side, when he felt an intense heat on his face. He looked up and saw a wall of fire just in front of him. Instinctively, he took one step back and screened his face with one forearm.

The wall was not particularly tall, but there was no space right or left between it and the labyrinth walls. Climbing it was out of the question, and, since the pink pencil was not there any more, Huydai could not use the air bubble to fly above it. He pondered on the three weapons he still had. Despite the three stones that gave it special powers, the sword was not the correct tool, simply because with such powers he could have done much more than overcoming a wall, albeit of fire. The Stone Potion could have been a solution. Transforming the wall into stone and climb it did not sound like a bad idea, but if, for whatever reason, the wall would petrify in such a way that its surface was too smooth to be climbed with bare hands, he would have had a serious problem. Only the Ice Potion remained. The wall did not look particularly thick, as, through the fire, he could see the corridor continuing, and most probably the ice layer would not have been too thick either. Yes, the Ice Potion was the right weapon.

Huydai extracted the phial from the bag pocket and removed the cork. With an ample gesture of his arm, he tried to spread the ochre powder as widely as possible on the wall, but he did not manage to do it as uniformly as he would have liked. The result was a burning barrier, spotted in several large and irregular frozen areas.

He thought that he had used the wrong weapon, but after a while his attention was caught by a small frozen area in the upper part of the wall where, due to the time the water needed to evaporate after the ice had melted, the fire took a few seconds before spreading. He looked for the biggest frozen area in the wall and quickly moved as near as possible to it. As soon as the ice melted, he jumped into the hole full of vapour, and in no time he was on the other side of the wall, staring at it changing into a uniform fire barrier again. As it became too hot, he moved away, thinking that once more he had made the good choice, and turned his back to the third last challenge he had just overcome.

The corridor ahead had only one large bend to the left, which Huydai duly followed until he came to a fork with two identical paths. He opted for the one on the left, which curved smoothly rightwards and led him back to the fork. A loop, he thought. By then, he had learned that things were not as they appeared, so he confidently took the path that was now on his left, and that, surprisingly, was the way he had come to the fork. Needless to say, he was quite deceived when he saw the wall of fire as he had left it. He quickly walked back through the corridor to the fork and took the right path, looking carefully at the walls and the floor in search of any kind of opening that may prevent him to go back to the same point again. And . . . he came back to the fork.

What a sort of fork is it, he thought, if I have no choice? He was getting nervous. It did not make sense to walk on a circuit leading him to the same spot, and it did not make sense that the labyrinth changed after every challenge, except for the one he had just overcome. There were two possibilities; either he had done something wrong with the wall of fire, or the fork was not as it appeared. I was not wrong, he said to himself, the Ice Potion was the right choice. So, he took the left path again.

Everything looked exactly like a few minutes ago, when he had walked the path in the opposite direction, except that the bend was not as curvy as it was before, and that he did not come back to the fork as he was expecting to do. The path was definitely different. Still confused by such a strange fork and without really understanding how he had managed to find the right path, Huydai reached a new open space that looked like it could be his sixth challenge.

There was not much light, but he could discern something standing more or less at the height of his ankles. It looked like a tangle of threads, sparkling as if they were wet and reflected the poor light around. As he approached, he could recognise a huge spider web that occupied the whole space between the walls of the labyrinth. He checked more carefully. There was no sign of spiders around, but considering the extent of the web, its owner could not have been too small. The thin threads were covered by droplets of water—or some other transparent liquid—and because of the height of the web, it was not possible to pass underneath it. Huydai was already at his sixth challenge and had gained enough experience to know that he was better off not trusting the labyrinth.

He untied a little string from his wrist and shook it over the web, and the threads moved gently, letting some drops fall, apparently with no consequence. He let the string touch the nearest thread, but when he pulled it, the thin leather lace turned out to be tightly attached to the thread. He pulled with more strength, but without success. The string was firmly joined with the thread which seemed incredibly resistant. Even if he had used the sword, however special it was, it would have got stuck as well. So, there was not too much choice.

He extracted the little flask containing the vermillion Stone Potion and put a few drops on a thread, hoping that the spider web was able to absorb liquids, or else what he had just done would be useless, and he would not have any alternatives. But the web absorbed the potion like a sponge, and the thread became a very thin, light grey stone stick, as well as all the others.

Huydai felt relieved and started walking in between the petrified threads until he had almost reached the centre of the web, where the threads were so dense that he could not find enough space for his feet, so he stepped on the web and broke some of the threads. It produced a ripple effect, and the spider web crumbled, starting from its centre and proceeding towards the edges, leaving Huydai astonished in the middle of a thick, dusty cloud that slowly fell down on a cemetery of grey sticks. He stared at the rubble for a few seconds and then moved resolutely towards the other end of the open space, where the walls converged again into the corridor.

A loud and disappointed Oh rose from the crowd as the spider web disintegrated. The complicated and perfect tangle of sparkling threads had fascinated the audience so much that the vision of it collapsing into the dust triggered a sort of general compassion.

Yuk too seemed to be under the spell of the construction. Considering the dimensions of the web, he thought, the spider that had built it must have been enormous, and most probably it would not have stopped to think whether it was a pity or not to tear Huydai in pieces. But more than by the web and its owner, Yuk was impressed by his brother's ability, his sangfroid, and his determination in facing the challenge. He had always seen Huydai as the little one, the one to be protected from dangers and even from his own imprudence, while now his brother was facing incredible challenges, trapped in a sphere four meters high, and behaving like a real man, able to overcome walls of fire, enemies with one big eye in place of the mouth, and giant spider webs. His little brother had grown, Yuk thought with a surge of pride.

Algowagh could not concentrate on what was happening into the Remote Vision Sphere any more. Even if Huydai had not faced the final challenge yet, it was clear that he was better than his brother, and, as Faewal had said, they would have found out who the best warrior was, in one way or another. What was worrying Algowagh was not the second warrior, but the first, and he kept looking at the tent where Faewal was, in the hope that she would show up. He could not face everything without Faewal. And he could not face everything without Sara who was inside Faewal's body. He threw an anxious glance at the strange tool at his wrist, which could have been a clock as well as a calculator, and thought that they still had one hour. Only one hour.

Sara did not know whether to surrender or not to the evidence that Faewal did not have the faintest idea as to how to solve the strange paralysis that was blocking her. This much was clear or else Faewal would not have closed her eyes. What the hell was she doing? Pretending to sleep? Ignoring what was going on? What the hell was the point in closing her eyes at such an inappropriate moment?

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Stop thinking so loudly."

"Well, at least I think!"

Faewal breathed deeply. "So you think I'm doing nothing at all."

"Your eyes are closed, you are completely still and I don't know how much time has passed or how much is still left. Yes, I think that you are doing nothing at all."

"You are wrong."

"Ah. . ."Sara waited a few seconds. "So, what are you doing, exactly?"

"Self-control."

"In the sense that you are making sure none of your muscles move?"

"No. In the sense that I'm making sure that every muscle reacts."

"Ah. . ."Sara waited another few moments. "They don't react, do they?"

"I'm getting in contact with every muscle of my body."

"I'm afraid that you have to improve your internal communication."

"You are making me lose concentration, and slow down the entire process."

"So, now it's my fault?"

"Can you give me five minutes of silence, please?"

"Five?"

"Yes. Absolute silence. Thanks!"

Sara shut up. Even if she was not very good at calculating time, she promised herself to be quiet for a while so that perhaps Faewal could really control her muscles, or control that they were still there, or whatever else she wanted to control. Perhaps she could have counted in the meantime. One minute was sixty seconds. Sixty times five—

"Absolute, I said!"

No, better not to count.

It took an eternity, but finally Sara heard a rustle, as if something was moving on the grey fur, more or less around Faewal's feet.

"There's something near your feet," Sara said furtively. "I heard a noise."

"They are my feet."

"No, it must be next to them."

"I'm moving my feet. Can you please keep quiet for a little longer?"

Faewal had moved her feet? Ok. So there was hope. Ok!

It took Faewal almost fifteen minutes to get in contact with every single muscle of her body. It was like slowly getting her body back, a technique that she had learned long before and was used to overcome the various freezing stages. A warrior technique. She finally opened her eyes and managed to sit on the grey fur. "We can go now," she said loudly, standing up.

Huydai almost ran through the three large bends of the corridor. Only one challenge was missing. After another five tight and smaller bends, he found himself in front of his third fork whose paths looked identical. As there was no sign that could have helped him decide, he randomly chose the one on the right. The corridor bent twice. After the first bend, some light filtered into the labyrinth, as if coming from outside, and after the second, Huydai saw the tournament area ahead of him.

The group of rocks was just in front of him, with the spiked flails on the ground, and the big target for the single arrow competition was on the right side of the stones. Behind the target was the puppet for the spear competition, and the entire village was there, looking up at a big ball containing something that he could not tell from that distance. In fact, nothing was perfectly clear, as if between him and what he was looking at was a veil. Huydai reached his hand out and touched something with his fingertips. It was as if the surface that separated him from the outside of the labyrinth was made of water, and his fingertips produced a series of concentric waves.

"You can go out," a seductive voice said.

"Who's there?" he jerkily turned to identify the origin of such a voice.

"You can go out. Back to your village. Back to your brother."

Huydai looked more carefully through the strange surface. Yuk was there, looking up at the big ball, like everyone else. Unintentionally, he took a step forward and touched the surface with the point of his foot, producing another series of concentric waves. "I still have the last challenge," he muttered.

"I know," the voice replied. "But then you will have to leave your brother."

He looked hesitant. The voice was right. He lifted his foot to make the step that would allow him to pass through the surface and rejoin his brother, when he saw Algowagh, partially hidden behind Yuk. "No!" he yelled, moving back. "The mission! The gods!"He threw a glance to the scene in front of him and turned his back, running as fast as he could to reach the fork, in the hope that the labyrinth had not changed in the meantime.

The fork looked exactly the same as before, and Huydai took the path that was now to his right. After a short distance, he found a large area, so dark that it was impossible to tell where it ended. He proceeded cautiously, holding the sword which was the only weapon left, when all of a sudden he felt a gust of wind blowing on his cheek and immediately after a sharp pain between his ribs. He bent forward and touched his chest where it hurt. When he removed his hand, a few drops of blood were on his palm; whatever was hiding in the dark had just injured him. Huydai held the hilt tighter and opened his eyes wider in an attempt to see in such darkness, but all he could spot was a sort of flash lightening under his eyes. And his thigh hurt.

He could not leave whatever it was make slices of him, so he brushed the purple stone clockwise thrice, just in time to protect himself from the third attack. The blade flew under his eyes again, but this time Huydai felt only the leather of his trousers breaking, more or less at the height of his left hip. Nothing else happened for a while, and then blows started to come from everywhere, as if the enemies were in the thousands or as if whatever was hidden in the dark had thousands of hands holding thousands of blades. Huydai parried and dodged for almost one endless minute, and then the thing stopped.

Suddenly, something passed very near Huydai's side, almost brushing him, and fell on the grass. He crouched to see what it was and almost touched it, when he had a kind of premonition and threw the empty shoulder bag on it. Nothing strange happened, but when he took the bag to lift it, this was so stuck to the ground that he could not move it at all. Like the spider's web, he thought and barely dodged another jet of the same sticky substance coming straight towards his face.

As he did not have the Shield Potion any more, or anything else that could help him parry the blows of the thing or its jets, he touched the green stone twice in the hope that this could serve the purpose. When the third jet had almost reached his chest, he parried it with the blade of the sword, and actually, instead of sticking to the weapon, the substance bounced off, like a ball, back into the darkness. Now he was invulnerable to the blades and able to throw back the sticky matter. He only had to destroy the thing. Or the things.

His only chance to discover the number of his enemies was to approach them, so he started to attack, furiously and in the hope of being quick enough to react to the coming blows. As he expected, the thing responded violently, and its blades seemed to double, but Huydai moved rapidly and with such strength that even he was surprised he possessed.

But when foot slipped on something, he immediately realised that he had stepped on the sticky matter and was now stuck to the ground. Not being able to move from the position he was in, he raised his gaze and glimpsed an enormous shadow in front of him: the thing.

The thing was nothing more than a huge, black haired spider with six pairs of legs. The hind ones were muscled and completely covered by thick bristles, while the remaining ones were thinner and hairy only on their first half, being the rest of them a long and curved blade. The spider's head was disproportionately small, with two yellow and tiny bloodshot eyes and a horizontal deep line cut, ending with a pair of sharp claws.

It was not nice to see, and it was not a pleasant situation either. Huydai held the hilt tighter, and when the animal approached, emitting a sort of rattle, he threw himself against it and stuck the sword into the hairy body with all the strength he had. They both remained still for a few seconds, then Huydai had the sensation that the whole weight of the beast was on the sword's blade, as if the weapon was the only thing preventing the spider from falling down. He slightly inclined the sword downwards, enough for the hairy body to slide off the blade and finally thump on the ground, leaving the weapon dirty with the slimy and stinky matter.

Huydai stared at the animal in disbelief, still holding the sword. "Gosh!" he exclaimed. "I must have aimed at the . . . what is it called? The heart!"

The audience was petrified. It was difficult to say if this was due to the big hairy spider itself or rather the spectacle of Huydai killing it.

All of a sudden, a very loud noise came from inside the labyrinth, and the palisade around it crumbled down into a huge cloud of dust. Everybody averted the gaze from the big sphere which deflated silently, like a balloon, until it became only a little shining point that disappeared with a crackling that, in fact, nobody noticed.

When the noise ceased, and the dust cleared up, the only thing taller than twenty centimetres standing among the debris was Huydai, with a puzzled expression on his face.

As soon as Yuk saw his brother, he moved towards him, hurrying but not running, and when they finally were one in front of the other, they looked into each other eyes for a few moments, with a silence that was much more eloquent than a thousand words, and then Yuk put his hand on his brother's shoulder."I'm proud of you," he murmured. "You're a man now."

Huydai would have never expected that his brother—his older and perfect brother—would have said so one day. It was as if they finally were on the same level, as if he was finally a real grown-up and not the foolhardy and reckless greenhorn, spending his days looking for new ways of shocking people with his bravado.

"The Gods couldn't have found a better warrior," Yuk added, gently tightening his fingers on his brother's shoulder.

Algowagh approached and hurriedly congratulated Huydai. "Unfortunately," he added, darting another worried glance at the tent, "we don't have much time. We have to leave in fiftee—we have to leave very soon."

Huydai nodded and looked in the same direction Algowagh was looking. "Where is—"

But before he could complete his sentence, Faewal came out of the tent and Algowagh rushed towards her, clearly showing all his anxiety.

"How are you?" he asked, at least three meters before reaching her.

"Fine. Everything is all right," she reassured him.

"Sara?"

"Sara is fine. Don't worry."

"We have to go. The Door will open in less than fifteen minutes."

Faewal nodded. "Where will it open?"

"There," Algowagh pointed at the stilt house.

"In Yuk's house?"

"At the entrance of Yuk's house."

"Nice place. Perfectly visible to everybody. Maximum effect, huh?"

Algowagh did not react. "Let's call the others," he said instead.

"Others? I thought we needed only one."

"You know what I mean." He made a gesture with his hand to silence her and moved away.

Once he had reached the brothers who were still talking about the tournament, Algowagh invited them to follow him, and by the time they all joined Faewal at the foot of the stilt house's ladder, the entire village gathered silently around Yuk's house, waiting for another divine marvel.

"Something divine will happen now. Something that I cannot explain to you," started Algowagh, addressing the two brothers and determined not to lose precious time in useless explanations. "Huydai, follow us without fear—and without questions. We are going to Aswer's palace."

Huydai nodded bravely, but when he saw a strange light at the entrance of the stilt house, he turned towards Yuk. "There's fire in there!" he exclaimed.

"Fire? Diwha, Diwha, where are you?" Yuk glanced around alarmed, looking for his family.

"We are here," replied Diwha after a few seconds, moving through the people with her little baby in her arms.

"Please calm down!" Algowagh intervened. "There's no fire in there. This is the divine wonder I was speaking about."

"There's no fire in there?" asked Yuk, sceptically.

"There isn't. Don't worry," replied Faewal, putting a hand on his shoulder, as to reassure him.

Algowagh started climbing the ladder and turned towards Huydai, reaching out the hand. Huydai looked first at the brother, then at Faewal, who nodded at him, and finally climbed the ladder to reach Algowagh in front of the entrance. The light was so intense that he had to cover his eyes with his forearm.

"Go," muttered Faewal, reaching the two on the balcony of the stilt house.

Algowagh stepped into the light, disappearing immediately, and this made Huydai turn towards Faewal with a very worried expression on his face.

"Go," she repeated, calmly.

As he did not seem keen on moving, she had no other option but to push him into the light. She turned towards Yuk, trying to reassure him with a smile about his brother's destiny, and finally disappeared with a stride into the light.
Strange

Strange, Sara thought, I can feel the wind on my face. Since she was in Faewal's body, she was able to see, when her host opened her eyes, and to hear even if Faewal was sleeping, but it had never occurred to her that she had physical sensations. Now she was clearly feeling the wind brushing her face.

As Faewal was still sleeping, Sara could not know what was happening around her and, apart from some birds twittering, she had no clue what was going on. As for the crossing to Dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven, she had been the first one to wake up, most probably because, without a body of her own, she was less subject to the sort of jet lag that seemed to affect the others.

Suddenly, something next to her moved. As all her senses were alerted—at least the ones available in such a situation—she realised that she was lying on something soft that could have been grass, or this was the sensation she could feel through Faewal's skin. But she had seen enough strange things happening so far to know that nothing should be taken for granted until she had verified it with her own eyes. Or rather, Faewal's.

"Where am I?"

That was Huydai's voice.

"Faewal." He gently shook the girl's arm. "Faewal, where are we?" Seeing no reaction, he stood up—or so Sara guessed—and moved around to explore the surroundings. "Faewal!" He came back running and shook her more vigorously. "Faewal, wake up!"

If only I could speak, Sara thought.

"I saw you. You moved your lips!"

No she didn't, Sara disagreed, I would be the first one to notice.

"What did you say?"

Sara kept quiet for a few seconds. What if—? Can you hear me? she thought as loud as she could.

"Speak louder, I cannot hear you. And open your eyes, come on!"

Sara was absolutely sure that Faewal was still sleeping. How could Huydai have thought that she was speaking instead? It's impossible, she thought, even though . . . if I . . .

All of a sudden, Faewal saw the light. All at once, everything that she was dreaming disappeared and was replaced by a very sharp light, and her heart started hammering inside her chest. It was as if she had fallen from somewhere right into her body. And then she saw Huydai crouching over her. "Huydai!" she exclaimed.

"You woke up, finally! Where are we?"

She rubbed her eyes, trying to overcome the weird feeling that the rude awakening had left her. She had never woke up before with such a physical sensation of being sucked down into her body, but with Huydai keeping asking where they were, she had no time to analyse what had just happened. She glanced around and saw Algowagh asleep, not far from her. "Let's wake him up," she said, ignoring Huydai's interrogation, and stared to shake the man.

"Hmm," Algowagh muttered after a while. "What is it?"

"We are there," she said.

The man opened his eyes, rubbed his face with both hands, and glanced around. "Yes. We are there. Finally," he murmured.

Sara was sure that she had opened the eyes—Faewal's eyes. She was sure that she had been able to move Faewal's muscles and interact somehow with her host's brain. She was also sure that this was not supposed to happen, or at least she had understood so when Sapiens Universalis had injected the B Entity into her body for the transmutation. Yet, she was sure that she had just opened Faewal's eyes. As Faewal had woken up so suddenly and had immediately concentrated her attention on waking Algowagh up, Sara did not have the time to discuss the matter with her, but she definitely needed to do it as soon as possible. Faewal had to know it. Now was a not a good moment either, as they were all so busy checking the weapons and preparing their bags that Sara was sure she could not gain Faewal's attention. So, she decided to focus on what surrounded them.

The sky was limpid and of a milk-white colour, streaked with gold. Judging by the intensity of the light, one could have said that it was around noon, even though there was no identifiable source of light—such as a sun, to say so—and no person or object produced any sort of shadow on the ground. They were on a big meadow on the top of a hill. Sara had been right about the grass, apart from its funny pink colour, but she had experienced enough so far not to wonder and, in fact, she would have probably wondered only if the grass had been of a banal green. Behind them, on the slope of the hill, were woods shielding a valley. The trees were squat and with such large and shiny leaves that they looked like made of plastic. Of course, the barks were not brown but yellow-orange, and the leaves were not green but grey, but apart from this, they looked just like normal trees. Opposite the woods, at the other foot of the hill, lay a valley crossed by a small ochre river with regular loops, and after the river stood a group of round-topped, purple mountains, whose colour increased in intensity the further from the river the mountains got. The river flowed peacefully up to a bank of dense and sparkling fog that was so large and so thick, that it hid everything below it except for the top of an ivory tower that, considering the distance, was really, really tall.

Fjunur, Sara thought, recalling the stamp drawn on the envelope that she had found on the desk at home. At home?

"Let's go." Faewal's voice interrupted Sara's thoughts.

"Er, Faewal," Sara started hesitantly, "I need to tell you something."

"Not now. We are going to meet Pichros."

Pichros? Such a name sent shivers down Sara's spine, even without knowing who or what it was exactly. Never mind, she thought, I can always tell her later.

They walked down the valley, heading for the river. The distance they had to cover did not seem long, but after more than an hour's walk, the only difference in the scenery was a slight change of the river colour, that had turned from ochre to white. The rest looked exactly the same, as if they had taken only a few steps towards the valley, and they still were on the slope of the hill, although almost at the end of it.

"I don't understand," said Huydai, disconsolate. "We have walked quite a lot now, but we are still very near the place we woke up. I can even see the woods behind us!"

Faewal raised her eyebrow in the direction of Algowagh, who sighed, looking for a plausible explanation. "We are in the gods' kingdom," he replied with a mysterious tone. "Things are not quite as they appear."

Huydai looked at the man, waiting for the second half of the explanation, but quickly understood that it was all he could get from him.

"I don't believe in gods," said Sara after a while. "Can you tell me the truth?"

"We are in the city of Fjunur," replied Faewal. "Things are not quite as they appear."

Sara snorted, annoyed.

"Something wrong?" Algowagh asked Faewal.

"No."

"So, why did you snort?"

"I didn't snort!"

The man looked at her puzzled.

"Do you see it?" asked Huydai, all of a sudden.

"See what?" Faewal seemed happy to distract Algowagh's attention away from her.

"The fog. I can't see clearly any more."

"It's true," Algowagh confirmed. "The fog is lifting fast."

Before any of them could add more, they ended up wrapped into a thick, white could. They slowed down, trying to be close enough to the one ahead to actually see him, but the fog soon became so dense that they could barely discern their own feet.

Faewal reacted quickly and took Huydai's and Algowagh's hands. "Don't let go of my hands at any cost!" she urged, squeezing their hands, not sure that they had heard her words.

They remained completely still for almost an entire minute. Algowagh, who was the first in the line, was so uncertain about where to go that he stopped and, consequently, halted his followers. He still held Faewal's hand, but after calling her several times and asking for directions, he came to the conclusion that such a thick cloud also prevented sounds to propagate.

"Is it Pichros?" asked Sara, extremely worried.

"I don't know," Faewal replied, "but we better move."Her tone was resolute. She pulled Algowagh's and Huydai's hands until they touched, and made them hold hands. Without ever losing physical contact with Algowagh, she passed him, becoming the first in the line, and held the man's other hand. With Silaha in her free hand, she started to shuffle on the ground, which still seemed covered with grass but not sloping down any more, and walked into the white, thick fog, pulling her two mates.

As they started moving, the fog cleared, first slowly and then quicker and quicker, until no trace of it was left.

The pink meadow had disappeared, as well as the woods and the purple mountains, and they were on the bank of the river—now white like snow—that lapped the ivory walls of a small town of which only the tall and thin tower was visible from outside, standing out in the golden streaked sky.

Before them lay a wide bridge, apparently of wood, if only wood could have been of such a dull green colour. Its large, transversal boards were nailed at their ends with two big nails each, and the nails were of a dark blue material—presumably metal—ending with a five-star shaped head. Two lines of poles of the same dull green wood were placed at regular distances between each other at the bridge's lateral edges, and supported a tangled web of thin threads that was in fact the barrier of the bridge itself. The bridge ended in front of a massive, double-leafed door that looked like it was the only entrance to the fortress.

"Is this Aswer's palace?" asked Huydai.

Algowagh almost replied with something ridiculous like who's Aswer, but luckily remembered the story that they had invented. "Yes," he quickly glanced at Faewal. "It is."

"Can't you tell him the truth now?" asked Sara, moved by a sort of compassion for Huydai.

"No," Faewal replied brusquely. "We have no time."

"I think you'd better find the time," Sara insisted. "And I also need to talk with you about another important matter."

"I said we have no time."

"But—"

"No."

"Tough luck for you, then!"

Faewal ignored Sara's last comment and took a few steps on the bridge.

Huydai put the quiver over his shoulder and, with the bow tightly held in his right hand, followed her immediately, while Algowagh moved after a few seconds, keeping some distance from them.

The bridge looked very long, but after only three steps they reached the door.

"We are in the gods' kingdom," Huydai murmured, as to convince himself.

The door was made out of marble of an ivory colour, with brown and red streaks. The panels had two big, diamond hinges each and, apart from a five-centimetre stripe running all along the frame, they were filled with a finely carved bas-relief depicting a forest of trees of all sorts of shapes and dimensions and populated by figures of which Sara recognised only elves and druids.

Huydai was completely fascinated by the door and glanced all around in search of a familiar shape. When he finally recognised a warthog, he felt a little less lost in front of such a multitude of unknown creatures.

"We have to enter," Faewal interrupted the exploration of the bas-relief everybody was engrossed in. She inserted the point of Silaha's blade into the thin slit between the panels and tried to lever, at first cautiously and then with increasing strength. As nothing changed, she tapped the light green stone twice, but when she wanted to insert the blade into the slit again, there simply was not one any more. The flat stripe was now framing the whole door, and the slit had disappeared, sealing the two panels.

Faewal looked at Algowagh, puzzled. The man, who had remained aside to observe, moved forward with an indecipherable expression on his face. He stopped in front of the door and breathed deeply, then joined his hands as if he was praying and started murmuring words that nobody could distinguish. It was like a very long singsong, and for a while nothing happened at all, but eventually a purple glow started to shine in between the man's hands. When Algowagh separated them and turned the palms towards the door, the light hit the bas-relief's figures which seemed to be brought to life.

Starting from the top of the door, a crevice formed and proceeded towards the ground. All the creatures on the course of the crack moved aside, leaving it free to continue its path, while trees and plants along the line were uprooted and fell down, almost crushing some of the creatures beside them.

Huydai was totally entranced by the marvel happening right in front of him, and Sara too could not believe her eyes, while to Faewal, it was nothing spectacular, and she patiently waited for the door to open.

Algowagh was still murmuring inaudible words, his palms directed towards the door, when the crevice reached the floor, and the light stopped.

They all kept silent for a few seconds, and then the door opened, extremely slowly, with the diamond hinges making a prolonged and high screech. When the opening was large enough for them to go through, the door's panels stopped.

Nobody dared to move. They all tried to spy what was behind the door, but a light and opaque fog made everything unclear. When Faewal finally stepped towards the entrance, an intense boom broke across the air.

"Pichros!" screamed Sara.

"Who?"Huydai puzzled.

Faewal looked at him, shocked.
She had no time

She had no time to formulate the question she wanted to ask, when Faewal found herself in front of somebody she knew very well: her mother.

"Faewal," the woman whispered sweetly.

Faewal took one hesitant step towards her mother, who was exactly as she remembered, exactly as she was when she had disappeared a long time ago—just as beautiful. She wore a long and purple dress made out of a soft fabric that wrapped her and emphasised her thin body, and a thick, golden belt with a big and finely worked buckle that showed off her slim waist. Her brown and shiny hair was combed into a complicated hairstyle that left a few locks hanging loose down her neck, and her pale hands, with long and delicate fingers, reached out as if inviting her daughter to rejoin her.

"Mum..."

"Come sweetheart." The woman smiled. "Come into my arms again."

Faewal took another step towards the woman. "You are alive," she said, her eyes filling with tears.

"Yes, darling, I am alive. Come to me and hold me tight." Without moving her feet, the woman reached out further.

"Who," Faewal started, torn between running towards her mother and knowing the truth after so long. "Who kidnapped you? Was it the Elves?"

The woman kept smiling sweetly. "Elves would have never been able to enter the court, you know it, darling. Nobody could have ever taken me away from court."

"So, who did it?"

"Faewal, sweetheart, I know you have always known. . ."

The girl was taking a further step in the direction of the mother, who still had her hands reached out, when she stopped, uncertain.

"You know," the woman whispered, looking straight into Faewal's eyes.

"No." The girl shook her head energetically. "I don't know. What should I know?"

With a compassionate expression on her face, the woman finally moved towards Faewal. "You know that he did it," she said slowly, as if she was speaking to a little girl.

"He? Who's he?"

The woman smiled tenderly and took another step towards the daughter.

"Keep away from me!" Huydai's voice resounded in the air.

Faewal turned around and saw him in a guard position, with the bow loaded and a grave expression on his face. Why did Huydai want to hurt a defenceless woman? She stopped his arm just before he shot the arrow.

"What are you doing?" screamed Sara, frightened. "Take your sword and fight instead!"

Faewal did not move, bewildered.

"Faewal," the woman called gently.

Faewal was disoriented. There was something wrong. She did not understand why Huydai was behaving as such and why Sara was screaming so much, but she could not let her mother be harmed—especially now that she had finally found her! The woman moved closer to Faewal, with the sweet and reassuring expression that the girl had been deprived of too early and that she had missed so much. Even if she knew that her father and her brothers loved her, Faewal felt somehow home only by looking into her mother's eyes."Who did kidnap you?" she asked again.

The woman's expression did not change, apart from her eyes that seemed to fill with even more compassion for the daughter. "Your father did," she murmured.

Faewal sincerely believed that she had not heard what the woman had just said. Her brain simply refused to retain such information. She looked at her mother, furrowing her eyebrows. "I didn't understand, I'm sorry. What did you say?" she asked.

The woman's eyes spoke more than words, and they both remained silent for some seconds.

"No," Faewal shook her head, when she finally realised what she had truly heard. "You are wrong."

The woman did not say a word and did not change her expression. If she had spoken, Faewal's reaction would have probably been more controlled, but her silence and her pity triggered a total denial in Faewal. "It's just not possible," she said loudly. "I'm sure that they stunned you and brainwashed you. But we'll find the remedy, don't worry. Now, come with me, let's go home. Sapiens Universalis will solve this, and everything will be as it was before."She approached the woman with the precise intention of taking her hand. "And I will exterminate the bastards who did this to you, I promise!" she added darkly.

"Your father abducted me," the woman said in a low but determined voice.

Faewal seemed not to have heard and brushed the woman's fingers. "Come with me, Mum."

"I can't. You know that."

Faewal stopped and stared at the woman.

"Your father will never allow me to come back home."

"My father loves you, as we all do. You don't have to believe the stupid stories that the Elves have told you!"

"Your father threw me out of the court," the woman's voice became shrill, shattering something inside Faewal's head.

The girl looked at her mother in despair. When she had seen her, a few minutes before, Faewal had managed not to burst into tears, but now it seemed impossible to control her tears and stop them from squeezing out. While repeating to herself that a true warrior does not cry, never, for any reason, she felt something warm burning her cheeks, something escaping her will and clouding her sight. She felt her legs becoming weaker and weaker, while tears flowed uncontrolled, wetting her face and going down her neck. Without even realising it, she found herself on the ground, her face covered with her hands, crying and repeating that it could not be true.

The woman crouched near her. "Come here, darling," she murmured with the same sweet voice. "Hold me tight."And while she was bending, the medallion with the dragon and the multifaceted stone held between the animal's tail and the leg shone at her neck.

Faewal raised her eyes and started. Instinctively, she touched her chest and felt the medallion hanging at her own neck. Something did not add up. There was only one medallion, she was sure about it. She looked puzzled at the woman, then closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to overcome the tears. When she opened her eyes again, the light in them was clearly different. "You are not my mother," she hissed while standing up.

"Faewal, sweetheart, what are you saying? Of course I am your mother!"

"No," Faewal's voice could not have been more firm. "You are Pichros."

Pichros, the city guard, was said to be unbeatable because he never showed himself in the same appearance twice. He embodied the deepest fears of whoever tried to enter the city in such a realistic way, that nobody had been able to break his spell, before succumbing to him. Many, in the evolutionarily advanced dimensions, knew of this, but the few who had ever faced him, had never come back to tell the tale.

Algowagh had prepared Faewal with a very tough training in order for her to fight all her fears and come to Pichros with nothing that the guard could attack her with. She was a warrior and she had won so many battles that she did not even remember the number of them, but such a training was without any doubt the hardest thing she had undergone in her whole life. Algowagh had probed her psyche's most remote corners to be sure that she was unassailable, and he had tried to tackle the subject of her mother's disappearance several times, but, probably because Faewal had not truly elaborated on the issue yet, or maybe because Algowagh himself had underestimated it, he had not managed to explore deeply enough to find out that this was her one and only weak point.

Faewal had regained control. She knew that she would have faced Pichros at that point of the mission and, even if she wanted to find her mother so badly, she knew it was not possible for the woman to be there. Yes, she had fallen for it initially, but she was far too experienced to be misled. And Pichros had made an unforgivable mistake. He had not paid attention to detail, and the medallion around the woman's neck was an important detail. A far too important detail.

"I am your mother," the woman insisted with the same sweet voice, but with a slightly weird look. She stepped towards Faewal, and the stone of the medallion blinked again.

"No," the girl said and, without adding a word, she showed the medallion that she had at her own neck.

The woman looked expressionless at Faewal for a while, and then her face started to twist into a grimace and lost all traces of beauty. She bent over, as if she had been hit in the stomach, and collapsed to the ground, slowly melting like ice in the sun. Within a minute or so, only a purple stain was left and it quickly evaporated as if it had been lying on a red-hot iron plate.

Faewal, who had involuntarily held her breath, resumed breathing. "Never touch my mother," she hissed to the fog around that seemed to be clearing. "Never again."

Huydai had an enormous warthog in front of him, bigger than he had ever seen before. The warthog was not exceptional because of its dimensions. This particular warthog was different because it was metamorphosing into something that Huydai had never seen before. Not with his own eyes, at least. This warthog looked very much like the description that Faewal and Algowagh had given of the ogres.

He shot the arrow that Faewal had stopped before, but, instead of sinking into the animal's body, the dart simply sailed through the warthog and sunk into the ground behind it, and the wound that it had produced healed immediately after, as if nothing had happened. Huydai begun to shoot all arrows he had in the quiver, one after the other, as rapidly as he could, but, despite the unceasing darts rain, the animal did not seem in any way affected, and its wound healed as soon as the arrows had crossed its body.

Huydai extracted the two daggers from the shoulder bag and threw himself against the monster, sinking one blade into the side and the other one in the thigh, but, after an initial resistance, he fell on the ground behind the ogre, realising that he had just crossed his enemy's body as if this was made out of air. He did not lose heart and promptly stood up to face again the monster which was glancing at him with a sneer.

"Do you seriously think you can beat me?" the ogre asked.

"I am a warrior. You don't scare me," was Huydai's reply, confident as usual.

"Sure. You're a warrior, like your brother Yuk."

"How do you know him?"

The monster burst out laughing. "I know more than you can imagine. I know that Yuk is a warrior—"

"And me too!" Huydai cut in. "I am the one who won the tournament. I am the one chosen by the gods!"

The ogre laughed louder, and Huydai's confidence started to falter. "You won the tournament only because your brother let you win it."

Huydai stared at Pichros, speechless.

"You know that, don't you?" the monster added, leaving all the boy's unspoken fears to do the rest.

Huydai kept on looking the ogre, less and less confident, and did not even notice that his right hand grip was loosening. The dagger felt down, producing a nasty metallic sound that woke him up from the vortex of thoughts he had in his head. "It's not true!" he screamed.

"Are you sure?" whispered the monster.

"Yuk would have never done it, I know!"

"Sure, you know," Pichros echoed. "As you know for sure that your parents had lost both of you on the mountains."

Huydai felt as if somebody had just punched him in the stomach. "Keep my parents out of it!" he yelled with anger.

"Are you sure that they didn't abandon you instead?"

"You must keep my parents out. I mean it!" Huydai screamed even louder. He was purple with rage, and his neck's veins were pulsing under his skin. The only person with whom he had ever discussed his parents issue was Yuk, and the discussion had always ended riotously, with Huydai leaving on Bodlin's rump and not wanting to listen to Yuk's reasons any further. That monster was daring to insinuate things that Huydai had not allowed even Yuk to insinuate. He sensed something touching his arm and turned around furiously.

Faewal was keeping him back. "It doesn't exist," she said.

He looked at her without understanding.

"What you see doesn't exist," she repeated.

Huydai was disoriented. Of course it existed! He was speaking to it and shooting arrows at it and stabbing it with the dagger. Of course that damn ogre existed! He threw the second dagger away with anger and took the sword. "I'll show you!" he screamed, running against the monster, but Faewal held him back again.

"I am telling you that what you see is not real," she said loudly. "They are your fears that materialise and that's why you see it and I don't."

Huydai stopped, speechless. He looked at her, then at the ogre, and then at Faewal again. "You don't see it?"

"No."

"But I do!"

"So, tell me where it is," she challenged him.

Huydai looked puzzled. "It is right there," he pointed, even more puzzled.

"Here?" she asked, reaching the point that he had indicated.

"Watch out! You are bumping into him!"

As if she had not heard his last words, Faewal did not stop and, leaving Huydai more and more astonished, she walked through the ogre, then turned around and smiled slyly."See?"

"It doesn't exist?" he murmured sceptically. Then he opened his eyes wide at the sight of what was happening. The ogre was turning back into the enormous warthog, and then became smaller until it was the size of a normal warthog, then smaller, like a rabbit, then like a mouse, then an ant, then a louse, until it disappeared completely. Huydai raised his eyes to meet Faewal who had a slight smile on her face that quickly faded away.

Sara normally trusted Faewal, but this time Huydai was right. There was a horrendous monster right in front of them. Faewal must have gone mad. First, she spoke to her mother when there was clearly nobody in front of her, and then, when Huydai told her that there was a monster, she walked through it!"Are you completely crazy?" Sara screamed, as Faewal passed through that disgusting thing that Huydai had pointed at. "Stop! Stoopp!"

Faewal did not stop and went through the enormous, disgusting, hairy and drooling black spider in front of her. She literally entered into the spider at the exact moment the animal opened its mouth—the jaws or whatever it was—and she ended straight into a slimy and greenish matter that filled her nostrils, mouth and ears.

Sara could not breathe any more and felt as if the substance she was in was like a plastic wrap all around her body, becoming tighter as she moved, and preventing her from moving. Preventing Faewal from moving. "I can't breathe! I can't breathe!"

Faewal did not understand what was happening. Yet, she knew how Pichros behaved, as well as she knew that she had walked against nothing when Huydai was terrified by a monster. But after crossing the space he had pointed at, still without seeing anything different than fog, she felt that her body was not responding to her will any more, as if it was responding to someone else's will instead. On top of that, Sara kept screaming amok that she could not breathe and that there was an enormous spider somewhere. "Sara, stop it! It's not real, whatever you see, is not real!" Faewal screamed even louder.

"It's not true! I cannot breathe! We are inside this disgusting thing with all its drool. I cannot breathe!"

Faewal was really struggling to keep the control. It was as if Sara's voice resounded outside her body, but it made no sense, of course, and, least of all, it made no sense that she was moving in such an awkward way, trying to free her mouth, her nose and her ears from something that did not exist.

"Take the sword and fight! Take a potion, take whatever you want, but take something, for Christ's sake!"

"Sara, there's nothing to fight. Calm down!"

Huydai was beside Faewal and did not know what to do. Everything was so weird. She kept acting like mad, moving her arms and legs against nothing and speaking nonsense with a funny voice.

"Sara, this is Pichros. He embodies your fears, but is not real, believe me!" Faewal insisted.

But Sara seemed completely out of her mind and was unable to listen to Faewal any more. "Take this drool away from meeee!" she screamed as loud as she could.

"What drool are you talking about?" asked Huydai, more and more disoriented.

Faewal looked at him, dismayed. Could he hear Sara's voice? Did Sara manage to actually speak? "Sara, stop it!" she yelled. "You are using my body against my will!"

Huydai was almost sure that Faewal had gone mad. Once, a man in the village had gone mad. Without any apparent reason, he had started screaming nonsense and attacking people of the village. Some men had immobilised him and tried to make him reason, but the man spoke about things nobody else could see and raved, and his body was so burning hot that even the concoction of the rare herbs from the forest could not heal him. He had died two days later, after two nights of delirium, foaming at his mouth and rolling his eyes unnaturally. Faewal did not foam, but spoke of drool all around her. Maybe she was going to die like the man. Maybe her body was burning too, and he had no clue what to do. He gazed around anxiously in search of Algowagh who should have had some useful potion, but could not find him. Maybe there was witchcraft on all gods trying to enter Aswer's palace. Maybe Algowagh was already dead, while they were facing the ogre, and nobody had noticed it. Huydai was panicking. He could not go inside a god's palace alone and face a bunch of rebel gods! "Faewal, there's nothing!" he yelled, running towards the girl. "There's nothing. It's like the ogre who had disappeared. As you had said, these are our fears, but nothing is real!"He grabbed her arms and started shaking her, as if he wanted to wake her up.

Faewal saw Huydai in front of her and heard his words, but by then she had completely lost control over her body.

Sara felt tugged and all of a sudden saw what stood in front of her: Huydai, nothing more than Huydai. What was he saying? Our fears? Which fears? What the hell was he talking about? "It's not fear, this is a real spider!" she screamed.

Huydai wondered for a few moments about Faewal's funny voice, but then decided it was a part of the delirium. "What do you see? Tell me what you see," he asked vehemently.

"What the hell do you think I see?" she replied hysterically. "I see what you see, this disgusting monster! We are inside it. In its drool!"

"There's absolutely nothing here. As I saw the ogre before, and you showed me that there was nothing. It's just an illusion."

Sara hesitated. "What the hell are you saying? I cannot breathe. Can't you see that I cannot breathe with all this drool in my nose and in my mouth?"

"What are you saying? You are breathing perfectly, believe me."

Sara was still extremely agitated, but realised that she could hear her difficult breathing. Actually, she could feel it. It was her breathing! "Am I breathing?" she asked, dazed.

"Yes, you are! Because nothing stops you from doing it. Your nose and your mouth are completely free. There's nothing at all."

Sara touched her mouth, and it seemed to her that the weird feeling of it being filled with the slimy matter was not so real after all. She looked at her hands and then at her arms and rubbed them to check whether they were wet with drool or not. They were the same old hands and the same old arms of Faewal. She moved again one hand and then stared at the palm. "Faewal?" she asked, frightened.

"Yes, you are Faewal, and there's no monster here," Huydai said.

Sara looked at him, terrified. "You . . . you don't understand," she muttered.

Faewal had never felt such extreme fatigue. She had never experienced what it meant to be completely trapped and without any control of her own body. All what was happening was totally absurd. It was her body. It was Sara who was supposed not to move or speak in a loud voice, not her, not Faewal. It could not be possible that Sara could move her body, could speak to Huydai, risking telling him something that he should have never known about. It simply was not possible. It must have been another hallucination from Pichros.
The fog had disappeared

The fog had disappeared completely, and the city of Fjunur was right in front of them. Huydai was still gripping Sara's arms when he heard some steps behind him. He turned around and saw Algowagh who had just passed through the door and was approaching them.

"We made it!" the man exulted. "We beat Pichros!"

"Who the hell is Pichros?" Huydai burst out, hearing such a name for the second time.

"Pichros," Algowagh stammered, realising too late that he should have not mentioned it.

"Pichros is the guard of the city of Fjunur," Sara intervened, wriggling free from Huydai's grip.

"Faewal!" Algowagh reprimanded her.

"I'm Sara," she reacted promptly, looking straight in the man's eyes.

"Who's Sara?" asked Huydai, exasperated.

"Sara is," Algowagh struggled to find the words, "Sara is . . . just Faewal's second name. She likes to mock me sometimes!"The man grabbed one of the girl's arms and pulled her aside. "What does it mean that you are Sara?" he asked in a very low and worried voice.

"I don't know what happened exactly, but I swear that I am Sara and that I can control Faewal's body," she replied, trying to make Algowagh loosen his grip.

"And where is she?" he asked.

"She was here until the fight with Pichros, but now I can't sense her presence any more."

"Faewal," Algowagh's voice was nearly imploring. "Faewal, please answer me. Show me that you are fine. . ."

Faewal was exhausted. So exhausted that she could not follow what was going on. She could only see Algowagh's face, very clearly. His face, his eyes, had a very weird expression. He was definitely worried—this much was clear—and it seemed that what had just happened was absolutely unexpected to him too. But she was there, right there. She just could not manage to communicate. She was so tired . . .

Algowagh changed expression suddenly, as if he had regained control over the situation. "She must have fought with Pichros twice," he thought out loud. "Most probably it was an enormous effort for her."

"And she also helped Huydai."

"Hmm," he continued pondering. "It must be like that. Two direct fights against Pichros and the support to Huydai. She must be on her last legs! But I'm sure she will recover. I know her."

Sara looked comforted by such an explanation.

"We have to proceed anyway. We have very little time left," he continued. "Do me a favour; pretend to be Faewal, act as if you were her, and, most important, keep in mind the story that we have told Huydai. Remember that he doesn't know a lot of things, so, please, keep your mouth as closed as possible, especially because you have a pretty different voice, and let's move. And inform me as soon as she is back."

Sara nodded. She hardly imagined what the meaning of act as if you were her was. Was it the same of fight like her? Did he want her to hold the sword and face god-knows whichever enemies?

"Don't worry," he said with the same reassuring expression he had when they first met in Dimension FourHundredSeventyThree. "There are no enemies to face here. We only have to reach the tower where the books are kept."

"...and rewrite the Normans' history," she concluded.

"Yes, of course," he murmured.

"What are you plotting?" Huydai approached suddenly at their shoulders.

"Nothing. Nothing," Algowagh reacted quickly. "I'm just checking whether Faewal is fine."

Huydai looked at Sara. "Is she fine?"

"Yes. Of course!"

Sara looked at Huydai and nodded in support to the man's words.

"Let's go now," Algowagh urged. "We don't have much time."

A sparse mist was the only thing left of the initial fog that had enveloped them at the entrance of the city. The sky above was white, and the light of the day was bright but did not produce any shadows, neither of them nor of the city walls. From outside, the walls had given them the impression that they contained an extremely limited space in which the very tall and thin ivory tower stood out, but from within the city, the space looked definitely bigger. The walls around were of the same ivory colour, and the city appeared to be made of countless winding streets covered by porches with brown and red streaked marble columns. The river that surrounded the city had been partially deviated inside into a series of small channels, spanned by narrow bridges with sculpted edges. None of the edges looked like any other one, and the number of figures in the bas-reliefs seemed unlimited. The streets were paved with irregularly shaped slabs of an ochre colour, laid on the ground, one beside the other, with such precision that left no space between them, and which was amazing, Sara thought, considering how irregular their shapes were. Sometimes, the little streets ended into a square, with a flower bed in the middle, full of plants and flowers of very different shapes and colours. The streets were all uphill, and it looked like they all led to the same place: the very tall and thin ivory tower. Everything was perfectly clean and orderly, though there was not a living soul around.

"Is it where Aswer lives?" asked Huydai, pointing at the tower.

Algowagh and Sara exchanged a quick look, and then the man nodded.

"And where are the rebel gods? Can't they see us?" Huydai asked again.

Algowagh snorted. "Rebels are in the tower. They won't see us."

"How can you be sure about it?"

"I know it."

"They are in a meeting," Sara added.

Huydai looked at her puzzled. She still had a funny voice, he thought. "In a meaning? How can they be in a meaning?"

"A meeting," she corrected.

"They are having a warrior council," Algowagh intervened, shooting daggers at Sara.

Huydai pondered on the information. "Are you absolutely sure about it?"

"Yes," Algowagh tried to manage his breath which had become more and more laboured as they climbed uphill on the steep alleys.

"Did your spy tell you so?" Huydai asked again.

Algowagh rolled his eyes. "Yes, our spy told us so. Now, let's avoid talking or they will find us."

Huydai kept quiet for a while, but then his curiosity got the upper hand again. "And when did you speak with your spy?" he asked, lowering his voice.

Algowagh stopped, turned around and looked at Huydai with half-closed and threatening eyes.

"Before," he hissed and resumed his walk.

"Before when we were facing the monster?"

Algowagh started, but did not stop. He was too much in a hurry. "Yes," he muttered, speeding up and making a gesture with his hand as if to invite the two to move faster.

Faewal could hear everything. It was as if she was waking up after a long sickness. Like the time when she had remained unconscious for almost two weeks after coming back with a fever from the Big Flies Marshes. She felt extremely weak, and it was weird to see her body moving normally under Sara's control. She tried to analyse what had happened. Nobody had warned her about the possibility of losing control over her own body. What would have happened if Sara had not been there? Would she have died, annihilated by Pichros? No, it was not possible. She had prepared herself to perfection for the fight. Algowagh had prepared her and he had taken great care of all details. So, why did it happen? Maybe it was because she had faced Pichros twice, and this had drained her. Yes, it should have been like that—No, it wasn't!

Faewal tried to remember every single detail and came to the conclusion that it was not Pichros who had brought her to that point. It had been earlier. When she woke up in the First Dimension, there had already been something weird. Long before facing Pichros. She was not the one who opened her eyes first—Sara had done it. The feeling of being sucked down into her body was not the normal feeling that occurs when one wakes up. Something had happened then.

What escaped her was how Sapiens Universalis and Algowagh had not been able to foresee it. They both were experienced wizards and they had studied the mission minutely. They could not have made such a gross mistake!

Sara could not be left in control of her body, not even for one minute. She was not a warrior. What would Sara do when they entered the library and found the source of the Spatial-Temporal Abyss? If what had caused the Abyss was so powerful as to overcome Sildariel, the most powerful wizard ever of the entire System, how could they dare to hope to make it without such an expert warrior as Faewal? Of course there was Huydai, but Huydai alone was not enough. He was there because they needed a second warrior, a helper. No, he could not make it alone. And Sara would be killed immediately, because she did not know how to protect herself. She did not have a clue about either war or magic. She had no chance of survival. And that was also the reason why Sara was in her body; she had to be protected. But in such a situation, the risk was not only not protecting Sara, but also Faewal herself, because if the body would be mortally wounded, Faewal would die as well as Sara. And Algowagh and Huydai would have had an even lower chance of survival. She had to regain control over her body. She absolutely had to, or the mission would be ruined. And the System with it.

They had reached the tower. It was a funny building. Its round base looked extremely small—a barely two meter diameter—and, from the perspective they were in, the tower seemed so high that it could have truly touched the sky.

"Does Aswer live here?" asked Huydai.

Algowagh nodded without turning towards him and kept his eyes on a small, dark brown door which looked like it was the only entrance to the tower.

"But, it's too small!" Huydai protested.

The man shot him a reproaching glance and made a gesture of shutting up. Huydai looked puzzled at Sara, but she repeated exactly the same gesture by touching her lips with the forefinger.

Algowagh started rummaging in his shoulder bag and eventually extracted a key. There was in fact a lock in the door, but the hole was definitely too small for the key that Algowagh was holding in his hand. From behind the man's back, Huydai and Sara were able to glimpse him whispering something while lifting the key a little higher. The object started to turn darker until it was black like a piece of charcoal, and then it changed its shape, becoming smaller and smaller until it was just a little stick without the slightest resemblance to a key any more.

All this to force open a door, Sara thought.

"Sara," Faewal whispered.

The girl opened her eyes wide. "Fa—" she started in a loud voice, but Algowagh gestured her to shut up. "Faewal?" Sara asked mentally.

"I'm here" the girl replied. "But still very weak."

"We have to tell Algowagh. Now!"

"No, not now. It's not the right moment. Let him focus on the door and give me some more time to recover and understand how to regain control over my body."

Sara nodded, and Huydai looked at her perplexed.

"I don't know what happened," Faewal continued, "but it must have been something unforeseeable. Anyway, be ready, and the moment I am able to take control, let me do it. We still don't know what's in the library, and I wouldn't want you to face something that you cannot face."

"Like?"

"Like an enemy, a wizard, I don't know, but something that requires warrior skills which you don't obviously have."

"Obviously. . ."

"Now, let Algowagh do his job and me recover."

A clank resounded in the air. Algowagh had managed to open the door. "Good," he said to himself. "There we are."

Ahead of them was a very narrow spiral staircase, made out of the same green material that had been used for the bridge leading to the city entrance. Algowagh started to climb the stairs, cautiously, followed by Huydai, holding a dagger, and Sara, definitely frightened. The stair looked endless, and its spirals made them all feel dizzy, but after a few minutes Algowagh stopped, puffing. Huydai and Sara did not understand it immediately, but then realised that in front of them was a very small door, that could have been crossed only by crawling through it. The door seemed made out of the same dark material used for the one they had entered the tower, and it was ajar. With some difficulty, they managed to enter, and what they found in front of them left them speechless.

The room was immense. Only lateral walls were visible, and the one opposite the entrance was so far ahead, that it could not even be seen. It was absolutely illogical that a two meter diameter tower contained such an endless room, Sara thought. She turned around but the small door was not there any more. The wall too was not there any more, and the two lateral walls continued endlessly behind, making the three of them stand in the middle of an infinite room—provided that the middle of the infinite existed, Sara thought. On their right, behind a line of very thin columns ending with capitals sculpted with the same figures of the city door bas-relief and apparently supporting nothing else than thin air, was a white marble bookcase, whose lateral and top edges were too distant to be seen. The bookcase was filled with books of the same size, each with a purple hardcover and a strange drawing on the spine. An identical bookcase was on their left, behind an identical line of thin columns. The only difference was the colour of the books' cover, which was green instead of purple.

"The Books of the Worlds," Sara whispered.

Huydai turned towards her. "Books?"

Algowagh did not pay attention to them and started walking.

"Where is he going?" Huydai asked.

"No idea, but he didn't really ask us to follow him," Sara shrugged her shoulders. "Let's wait for him to come back, ok?"

Huydai pondered for a few moments and then moved in the direction of Algowagh. "I am going!" he said.

The prospect of being alone in the middle of such a weird place made Sara move immediately after him.

"Lion-hearted," Faewal commented.

They walked in silence for a while; Algowagh ahead and the two others a little far behind. Huydai was extremely careful, his eyes glued on Algowagh, while Sara could not help looking at the variety and the beauty of the capitals, and she tripped twice on her own feet, until she lost her balance and bumped into Huydai.

"Sorry," she said automatically and then noticed that it was in fact Huydai who had stopped and was looking ahead, wary. "What is it?" she asked in a low voice.

"I don't know," he replied pointing at a dark, indistinct shadow ahead of them. "But there's something down there."
A dark stain

A dark stain was all they could see from such a distance. Algowagh was walking quickly, followed by Huydai with a dagger in his hand and Sara who looked more and more hesitant.

"Why don't we stop and think before running there so fast?" she stammered. "Maybe it's another giant spider, and Faewal—"

"Faewal what?" Algowagh cut in, turning around suddenly.

"Faewal. . ."

Huydai looked worried at her and came back to touch her forehead. "Are you ok?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm ok," she removed his hand, annoyed. "But—"

"Not yet!" Faewal stopped her.

Algowagh came back too and stared at her with apprehension. "Do you have something to tell me?" he asked in a mysterious tone.

Sara pondered. "Just pray that I won't have to face a spider all by myself," she mentally warned Faewal. "No, nothing," she then replied to Algowagh. "Nothing has changed."

Huydai had the clear feeling that the two were hiding something from him and decided to keep a special eye on them.

They resumed walking, Algowagh and Huydai in front and Sara slightly behind them, as if she was looking for protection.

"Are you covering us?" Huydai asked, with an only-we-the-warriors-know expression.

"Me? Of . . . of course!" she lied.

As they approached, the dark stain became more and more sharp. It looked like something trapped inside a tangle of wires. Another dozen meters and it became completely clear.

"It's a man!" Huydai exclaimed.

In front of them was an incredibly old man, with a very long beard and a thin, pointed hat. The man was clad in a kaftan, which was so long that it almost covered his bare feet, and a cloak that hung in thick folds from his shoulders. He had his eyes closed and his mouth open, and his arms were reached out in a sort of defensive position. The tangle of wires looked tighter around his wrists and ankles and kept him weirdly hanging some meters above the floor.

"Sildariel," Faewal said.

Sara opened her eyes wide. "Sildariel?" she repeated in a loud voice.

Algowagh turned towards her, quite surprised.

"Pichros, Sildariel," Huydai snorted. "Are they the rebels?"

"Is she awake?" Algowagh asked Sara, ignoring Huydai's question completely.

The girl swallowed. "Nnno. Why?"

"Who is awake?" asked Huydai.

"Nobody," Algowagh replied rudely to him and without taking his eyes off Sara. "How do you know that he is Sildariel?"

"Well, who . . . who else could it be?" she tried to smile, embarrassed. "There should be nobody else here apart from Sildariel and Pichros, right?"

"And Aswer," Huydai added. "And all the rebels, right?"

Algowagh stared at Sara for some seconds. She managed to keep the smile on her face and not lower her eyes, and finally the man averted his gaze, showing how worried and under pressure he was.

The Spatial-Temporal Abyss must have done more damage than they had imagined, Faewal thought.

"We have to set him free," said Algowagh, looking at Sildariel.

"Set him free?" Huydai exclaimed. "We have one of the rebels already here and harmless, and you want to set him free?"

Algowagh had no more time to invent stories. He turned towards Huydai with no more patience.

"He is our spy!" Sara cut in before realising what she was doing.

"He is your spy?" repeated Huydai in disbelief, pointing at the tangle of wires trapping the old man.

"He is. What's wrong with him?"

"Your spy is Aswer's son, correct?"

"Yes. Sildariel is Aswer's son."

Huydai looked again at the man in the tangle and then slowly moved his compassionate gaze to Sara. "But he's old!" he finally exclaimed.

"I know, but Aswer is older," she replied shamelessly.

Huydai's compassion gave way to true pity. "And you want to marry him?"

"Truth will prevail," Faewal commented and could not stop a smirk.

Sara made an involuntary grimace and looked at Algowagh in search of help, but the man had a black expression etched on his face. She glanced around, looking for a diversion that neither the columns nor the bookcases offered her, so she turned towards Sildariel with her most surprised expression."He moved!" she yelled.

Algowagh and Huydai looked immediately at the wizard and stared at him for a few seconds, but obviously Sildariel had not moved at all.

"Did you actually see him moving?" asked Algowagh, slightly worried.

"I did," Sara answered, feeling Huydai's eyes fixed on her, but as soon as he got distracted, she signalled to Algowagh that it was not true.

The man understood and took a deep breath. "I'll try to set him free," he said. "Move away."

Huydai and Sara took a step back, while Algowagh started muttering his nonsensical words louder than usual so that the two could hear—without of course understanding. The man tried different spells that did not seem to produce results of any kind, and then made three attempts with some potions that he theatrically extracted from his shoulder bag. The first one was contained in a thin phial which, as Algowagh removed the cork, let out a bluish smoke that enveloped Sildariel and the net for a few seconds, before dissolving completely. The second potion, kept into a big and opaque marble, burst at Algowagh's feet, producing nothing more than minor fireworks, and the third one, contained in a sort of soapy bubble that blew in the air and released a glittering powder that covered the old wizard, produced no appreciable result, just like the previous two.

Sara felt a shiver down her spine, and her right arm moved, as if it had been crossed by a light shock. "Faewal?" she mentally asked.

"Of course it's me. Don't you think that this body is crowded enough with the two of us?"

Sara was so scared of facing enemies by herself that she did not pay attention to the irony. Her attention was totally on any sign showing that Faewal was regaining control over her own body. It was the only thing on earth that mattered to her. "Have you made it?" she asked, full of hope.

"Almost."

"Almost? What's wrong? I mean, for the situation we are in, of course."

"Everything is ok, don't worry. I'm just figuring out what Algowagh is doing."

"He is setting Sildariel free."

Faewal did not react.

"He is setting Sildariel free, isn't he?" Sara's apprehensive tone was truly irritating.

"Yes, yes, he is," Faewal confirmed with a very unconvinced tone.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Not true. What are you hiding?"

"Nothing," Faewal snorted. "Stop filling your head with strange ideas."

"Which strange ideas?"

"None."

"Faewal, now my head is full of strange ideas," Sara whined. "Please, tell me what's going on."

"I said that it's nothing. Just a reflection of mine. Nothing relevant."

"Please. . ."

"I'm just thinking about the potions that Algowagh has used," Faewal said after a while.

"What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing."

"Faewal?"

"Nothing. It's just that . . . they look kind of inadequate. Beginners' potions. But of course that is just what I think, and I'm not an expert."

Sara looked at Algowagh who seemed really discouraged, clearly acknowledging the uselessness of his attempts. He looked up and sighed loudly, and his gaze stopped beyond the columns, on the right bookcase, the one with the purple books.

Huydai looked automatically in the same direction, rubbed his eyes, and then looked again. "They are disappearing!" he yelled.

Algowagh did not answer, but kept his gaze fixed on the books.

"What is disappearing?" asked Sara.

"Those things over there," Huydai pointed at the books.

"Ah, those! It's normal, don't worry," she reassured him.

"How normal?" he wondered.

"It's not normal at all!" exclaimed Faewal.

"Of course it is," Sara mentally replied in a teaching tone. "Purple books are the empty ones, the ones to be written. As they got filled with History, they disappear from their shelves and appear on the opposite ones, becoming green. Green books are written with History. So, it's normal for purple books to disappear."Of course she remembered Algowagh's explanation!

"Sure," Faewal confirmed sarcastically. "Apart from the detail that purple and not green books are the written ones."

Sara stared speechlessly at the purple books disappearing one after the other.

"Are you saying that it is normal for those things to disappear?" asked Huydai who was still waiting for an explanation.

Sara looked at him. "No, I mean," she stammered, looking for help from Algowagh.

Huydai too turned towards the man, but Algowagh looked more and more worried. It was as if he was no longer the great and powerful wizard he had always been. It was as if what was happening was catching him totally unprepared. Faewal knew very well how remarkable he was and that he was the second best wizard of their dimension. The only reason why he, and not Sapiens Universalis, was participating in the mission was because the latter was supposed to protect Dimension Fifteen in case the Spatial-Temporal Abyss would have reached it before Algowagh and Faewal could stop it in the First Dimension. Or at least, this was what the two wizards had told her while preparing the mission. Algowagh seemed to have gone haywire, Faewal thought. If she had not known him so well, she would have thought that he was doing it on purpose, with such a bewildered expression and such empty eyes. Such empty eyes . . . There was something in those empty eyes that moved a memory in Faewal's mind. Something that was still unclear, but she had the feeling it was not the first time for her to see such empty eyes. Where had she seen them already? When?

Algowagh turned suddenly towards Sara. "Is she back?" he asked in a whisper.

Faewal studied the man's face. "Tell him that I'm not!" she urged Sara.

"No," Sara said to the man.

"Sure?" he looked doubtful.

"Sure," she lied.

The man sighed loudly and waited a few seconds. "I have an idea," he said. "It should work. Give me the medallion."

"Which medallion?" asked Sara who had not paid too much attention to what Faewal was wearing.

"The one that hangs at your neck," he replied reaching his hand out.

In that precise moment, Faewal was overwhelmed by an incredible number of memories, a cascade of images that she had removed from her mind and that came back all together and so suddenly, that they left her breathless.

Sara felt that she was short of breath. No, actually, she could not breathe at all! It was fine not to oppose Faewal regaining control over her body, but she found that stopping breathing was a little excessive.
The medallion

"The medallion, Sara, give it to me!" Algowagh was reaching his hand out, keeping calm, though a closer look would have revealed a little vein pulsing nervously on his right temple.

"It won't help you to set Sildariel free," said the girl with a strange voice.

"What do you think you know?" he asked piqued. "I am the wizard."

"I know more than you think. Aren't you going to welcome me back, uncle Algowagh?"

The man's gaze hardened for a handful of seconds. "Faewal," he murmured. "You're alive."

"Yes, I am," she challenged him. "And I'm fully in control of my body."

The man looked hesitant, as if he was searching for the right words. "Good! I knew you could make it." He forced a smile. "But now give me the medallion, please."

"No. You didn't know I would make it. I believe indeed that you hoped that I couldn't." Faewal's tone was icy. "And I won't give you the medallion. Not for all the world."

Algowagh tried again to smile and muttered something incomprehensible. As Faewal did not change the expression on her face and even put her hand on Silaha's hilt, he took some steps back, still keeping his eyes fixed on hers.

"Faewal, Algowagh, what are you doing?" Huydai intervened and put a hand on the girl's arm. "Will you fight now? I don't think it's the best moment for this—"

But his words died out, and he opened his eyes wide when he saw what he had never imagined possible. Algowagh was transforming himself. His body had doubled, and his skin had darkened up to a purplish shade that was not reassuring at all. The white in his eyes had filled with dark red little veins, and his thin glasses had shattered into a thousand pieces. His nails had grown exceptionally, becoming yellow and dirty, and his general appearance was definitely not inviting a hand shake.

"A-Algowagh?" stammered Huydai, petrified.

"Get back!" Faewal yelled at him. "And be on your guard!"

"Is he . . . Is he with the rebels?" he asked, trying to figure out a good reason for what was happening.

But Faewal did not answer.

"You should have died," hissed Algowagh.

"Facing Pichros, I guess."

"Right. Facing him twice. But apparently it didn't work."

"It means that you didn't want me to enter the city of Fjunur, right?"

"Of course I didn't want you to be here. You are just an obstacle to be removed now."

"I'm here too!" Huydai exclaimed bravely. "And I promise that you won't win!"

Algowagh looked at him as he would have looked at an annoying fly. "Do you really think you are an obstacle?" he asked, bursting into laughter. "You are only the third person I needed to keep Pichros busy."

"The third person?" Huydai puzzled.

Faewal started. Of course, Pichros' First Law!

Algowagh met her eyes and realised that she had understood. "Exactly. Pichros' First Law," he said with a grin.

"Pichros' First Law?" asked Huydai all the more dazed.

"The First Law says that Pichros, the monster we have just defeated, can face not more than three persons at the same time," Faewal answered without moving her eyes from Algowagh and his evil grin.

"Me, you and him," Huydai counted. "We are exactly three?"

"No," she corrected. "Not him. He would have never been able to defeat Pichros."

"But he did."

"No, he didn't," she said, still looking at Algowagh. "Right?"

The man nodded. "Right. I would have never been able."

"Because of Pichros' Second Law," she concluded.

Huydai looked at the girl, waiting for a clarification, and Faewal understood that without more details she could not expect much collaboration from him. "Pichros' Second Law says that no one moved by wicked intentions can defeat the city of Fjunur's guard."She spoke keeping her eyes on Algowagh, and it looked like more than explaining to Huydai, she was thinking out loud and reconstructing what had happened."You," she continued, addressing Algowagh, "you could have never beaten him. You are clearly moved by wicked intentions and, even by preparing yourself at perfection to face Pichros, you could have never won because of the Second Law."

A sneer appeared on Algowagh's face.

"You are not here to stop the Spatial-Temporal Abyss," she continued her reasoning, "but to take advantage of it for your own business."

The sneer on the man's face was more and more etched and implied something more. A thought crossed Faewal's mind. It's not possible, she said to herself, he can't be so powerful! "The Abyss," she murmured, putting all the pieces together.

Algowagh burst a little too early into a laughter that resounded amongst the thin marble columns. He was not sure whether Faewal had really understood, but he could not help parading how proud he was to be there, to have got round a great number of Laws and, above all, to have conceived such a perfectly evil plan. Just a little detail was missing in order to avoid further setbacks: that stupid little medallion with its stupid, microscopic, multifaceted stone. And what was inside it.

Faewal could not believe that Algowagh's laughter was the confirmation to her unexpressed question. He could not have been the one to actually produce the Spatial-Temporal Abyss. He could not have been able to trap Sildariel, the most ever powerful wizard of the entire System. Algowagh could not be so powerful. Even though . . .

"What's the Abyss?" asked Huydai, trying to rise to the occasion.

"Huydai," Faewal said with a very serious tone and always keeping her eyes on Algowagh, "things aren't exactly the way we have told you."

"And which way are they?" he asked, black.

"Very different."

Huydai's doubts were stopping Faewal from attacking Algowagh, and it would have been easy for him to take her by surprise. All that he wanted was the damn medallion! His lips merely moved, and he prepared his attack by slowly lifting his arms. Faewal still had her eyes fixed on him, but she was so focused on finding the right words to say to Huydai, that she was almost taken aback by a blue light sphere that sprung from Algowagh's hands and approached her with an amazing speed. But of course she was an expert and a well-trained warrior, and she jumped aside one second before the sphere could hit her straight in the chest. Huydai did not even realise which direction the glowing thing was coming from. Instead, he clearly saw the smoking crater that opened where the thing had hit the floor. He instinctively loaded the bow and propelled an arrow towards Algowagh. The dart was extremely precise and hit the left foot of the man who lowered his arms with a grimace of pain and looked daggers at his aggressor. Huydai understood almost nothing of what was happening, but one thing was clear to him: Algowagh had attacked Faewal, and this was not a good thing to do. Whatever the story was, he had just sided with Faewal and, even if he still had some doubts on the girl's sincerity, he decided to trust her.

Faewal understood his choice and took advantage of it to evade the explanation that she was unable to give him. "We'll discuss it later, eh?" she said without giving him the time to reply. She unsheathed Silaha and threw herself against Algowagh, injuring him at his right knee.

The man screamed, and a blood stain spread slowly on his torn trousers.

Huydai looked at Faewal who was about to attack again. "But then you'll tell me everything," he yelled at her. "In great detail!"

Faewal smiled for a fraction of a second and then attacked Algowagh on the back side of the same knee. The man almost lost his balance, and let out another scream that rumbled within the endless room. He tried to stand on the wounded leg, but soon realised that the blade had partially cut his hamstring, so he limped backward and, the moment his weight accidentally shifted on the wounded leg for the second time, he gnashed his teeth to avoid screaming again.

"Don't you have a potion to become invulnerable?" Faewal asked sarcastically.

If Algowagh had not done anything about it, it was not because he did not know any potions with such a purpose. There must have been a reason that prevented him from physically protecting himself, Faewal reasoned. Maybe it was related to Pichros' Second Law, or to the wicked intentions, or maybe it was something completely different, but, as a matter of fact, Algowagh was vulnerable. He could have used all the magic he knew to attack, but he could not protect himself from their attacks. With some luck, Faewal thought, they could make it. "We have to attack," she yelled at Huydai. "Continuously."

Huydai nodded. The only thing that he knew was that the situation was not at all clear to him. So far, he had understood that the entire Aswer story was not true, and that they were there—not in the god's palace, but is a city of somebody called Fjunur or something similar—for a reason that he did not know. It was equally clear that Algowagh was not on the side of the good gods, while Faewal—who had lied anyway—seemed to be somehow better than Algowagh. But he still had doubts and reservations, especially about how many they were. Anyway, he extracted the spiked flail—at last!—and whirled it twice over his head before throwing it against Algowagh with all his strength.

Faewal and Huydai were now diametrically opposed to each other, with Algowagh in the middle of them, and this made it difficult for him to react to their contemporary attacks. The spiked flail hit Algowagh on the left temple, producing a remarkable wound, and the man used his hand to stop the blood that had started flowing down on his eye, making it difficult to see. Faewal took advantage of the situation and, with a very rapid movement, sunk Silaha's blade into Algowagh right thigh. A piercing scream resounded in the room. With the same rapidity, the girl extracted the blade from the man's leg and run to hide behind the columns. Algowagh removed his hand from the temple, the blood starting to flow again, and looked at his wounded leg, then moved his gaze on the columns, in search of Faewal."You," he started with a threatening tone. "You will end up like your mother!"

She held her breath. She knew now. She had remembered. Algowagh was not saying anything new to her, but hearing what he was saying triggered a fierce rage inside her. Algowagh—not the Elves—was the one responsible for her mother's disappearance. Actually, it had been Algowagh who had aired the Elves hypothesis first, and, considering the ongoing war with them, it had been natural for everybody to believe such a story. At a certain moment, somebody had even said something about not enough evidence against the Elves, but at that time she was too little to understand the details of this conjecture. What she remembered well was that Algowagh had seemed pretty sure about such evidence.

The image of him in the Alchemistry Laboratory. Him alone, amongst Sapiens Universalis' belongings. The image of Algowagh starting, as she abruptly opened the door of the Laboratory on the day she was running all over in search of Nimgirith. He was doing something in there. Something that Sapiens Universalis should not have known about. Something that nobody should have known about. Now she was sure that Algowagh was doing something against her mother that day. She was sure that he had done something to make her disappear. A voice inside herself told her that he had not managed to kill her mother. He had only managed to render her harmless, but her mother was still alive. She felt it.

But where?

Meanwhile, Huydai was assailing Algowagh with arrows, taking advantage of the man searching for Faewal amongst the columns. He had learned pretty well how to use the single arrows, and his peculiar way to aim, without actually looking but just feeling the weapon as a part of his body, allowed him to strike Algowagh heavily on his back.

The man felt all the little darts sinking into the flesh and turned furiously towards Huydai. "You are just a little caveman with no way out," he yelled. Despite the pain and the blood that kept flowing from every wound, Algowagh muttered a spell and managed to throw a fire globe towards Huydai who moved aside, but not far enough to avoid it completely. The sphere brushed his right arm and produced a large burn on his skin. He gnashed his teeth and covered the wound with a hand, letting the bow fall down. Algowagh was about to strike him again when Huydai followed Faewal's example and hid behind the columns.

Where?

Faewal felt that she was only one step away from what she was looking for. Something was still missing. A detail was still escaping to her. She slipped from behind the column and threw herself again against Algowagh. "Where is my mother?" she screamed, running towards him.

The man blew a dark powder in her eyes and blinded her. "You will be dead before you'll find out," he roared, a mask of blood on his face.

Faewal's eyes were burning as if they were on fire, but she managed to open them, amongst pouring tears and with everything around confused and out of focus.

"The medallion," Sara murmured.

Faewal blinked her eyes. "The medallion," she repeated slowly.

"Why does he want the medallion?" Sara reasoned.

Faewal extracted the medallion that was hanging at her neck and painfully stared at it.

A dragon sitting and holding a little multifaceted stone between its tail and the left hind leg.

A little multifaceted stone.

A little stone clutched in a fist.

Algowagh's fist.

Faewal raised her eyes and looked at the man with hatred, just in time to see a dazzling light coming towards her. Too late to avoid it. The glowing dart hit her fully in the chest, flinging her against a marble column that shattered into a thousand pieces.
No

"No!" Huydai's scream echoed in the air. He appeared from behind the columns, brandishing the dagger and throwing himself against Algowagh who was still turned. With a great jump, he managed to stab the man deeply in his left kidney and moved away before he could react.

Touching his wounded back, the man screamed with rage and extracted the little dagger sunk into his flesh.

"Faewal," beseeched Sara, who had not suffered the blow, being completely disconnected from any physical sensation of her host again. "Faewal, can you hear me?"

Faewal lay still and half-covered with the debris of the marble column. She had a significant wound on her abdomen that was worryingly bleeding, and a piece of the column had produced a long and deep cut above her right eyebrow. Smaller wounds were all around her body, and one leg was awkwardly bent, as if the bone inside had been broken. Next to her, Silaha was buried by debris, and its hilt only, with the three coloured stones, was partially visible.

Despite his miserable conditions, Algowagh looked at the girl and sneered with satisfaction. "And now let's finish the job," he said, limping towards Faewal's body.

Sara could not see what was happening, but she clearly heard somebody approaching with unstable and heavy steps, and he was not Huydai, of this she was sure. "Wake up Faewal! Algowagh is coming!" she urged, but her host barely answered with a weak and tired moan.

Algowagh's long and yellow nails had almost reached the medallion that was lying beside Faewal, when the man stopped, petrified. The small sphere moved from the dragon's tail and rolled on the floor for a few centimetres. Algowagh made a grimace of disappointment and tried to pick it up, but when he brushed it with his nails' points, the sphere started to shine and let out several beams of light that illuminated everything around. The man pulled back his hand to cover his eyes, hit by one of the beams, and the small sphere grew bigger and bigger until it became an almost three-meter diameter transparent bubble, inside of which was a thin figure. Instinctively, Algowagh took some limping steps backwards.

Without even realising that he was making himself vulnerable, Huydai emerged from behind the columns to better observe what was happening.

The figure was sharp and completely black but, as the bubble dissolved into an iridescent drizzle, all its details and colours became clear.

Faewal coughed.

"Open your eyes," Sara begged. "Something is happening."

Faewal was too weak to reply, but she knew that something important was taking place around her. With a great effort, she managed to lift her eyelids. At first, everything was confused, as if wreathed in the fog, but then she recognised the columns and the bookcases around her, and realised that she was covered with debris and that somebody was beside her. She turned her head painfully and winked, unable to believe to what she had just seen. "Mum," she murmured imperceptibly.

Sara saw a thin and beautiful woman, clad in a long and soft lilac dress, with her shiny brown hair tight on her nape and with the sweetest smile Sara had ever seen.

"Everything will be all right. Don't worry," the woman whispered to the daughter, and then she averted her gaze from Faewal and looked at Algowagh with a dramatically different expression. "You. Did you really think that you could be the Lord of the System?"

With his face covered by blood and his eyes almost completely red, Algowagh gave her a look of pure hate. "I did it once," he hissed hoarsely. "I can knock you out again."He started whispering something, and a sphere of black smoke slowly formed in between his hands. He threw it against the woman who, without even batting an eyelid, stopped it the second before the sphere could hit her in the face. The black thing remained suspended and completely still in front of the woman for a few seconds and then disappeared into thin air.

"It won't be so easy this time," she replied with a very controlled voice. "Now I know who you are."

Algowagh was clearly tense, the little vein pulsing on his unharmed temple. All of a sudden, he was thrown almost two metres backward, as if someone had punched him in the stomach. Lying on the floor and with a hand on his belly, he raised his stunned eyes to the woman. "You have learned a lot in these years," he acknowledged. "But you can't beat me." With all the wounds bleeding and one knee clearly unable to carry his weight, he slowly stood up and whispered another spell. A blazing thunderbolt materialised in between his hands and ran towards the woman, stopping just a few centimetres away from her chest. There, the bolt changed its colour and stopped blazing, turning into ice and finally melting into a water puddle at the woman's feet.

"You see Algowagh," she said calmly. "Unlike you, I am invulnerable. You can use all the spells you know but, as long as you're moved by wicked intentions, none of them will protect you. Tricking Pichros and avoiding its Second Law was not enough."

"Not until the First Dimension exists." Algowagh made a grimace, which soon turned into a smirk, and his gaze ran to the purple books.

"You created the Abyss," asserted the woman.

Algowagh looked at her with a satisfied expression, as if confirming her words.

"You are just waiting for everything to be destroyed. For History to be deleted from all Dimensions," she continued.

"And then I will rewrite it my way, and eventually become the Lord of the System!" he burst into an uproarious laughter.

"You will not succeed," she firmly contradicted him.

"Very little is left. You will not make it."

Huydai understood absolutely nothing of what was going on, but he knew that Algowagh had to be stopped, immediately. He rummaged in the shoulder bag and found that there was still a weapon left. Against all logic, he extracted the spear, wondering how something so long and hulky could have hid into such a small bag, and held it as Faewal had taught him to, furtively approaching Algowagh who had clearly forgotten him. Once near enough, Huydai started running, brandishing the weapon, and tilted the spear just before sinking it into the man's body. The point of the weapon entered the flesh on the back, at the kidneys level, piercing the man and emerging in the front, a little below his throat. The man remained breathless for a few seconds, and then let out such a fierce scream that seemed to shatter the thin marble columns.

Having understood Huydai's intentions, Faewal's mother reached her arms out towards Algowagh and started whispering a spell. As if the air was rippling, a series of waves originated from the woman's fingers and overwhelmed the man, who was still staggering from Huydai's attack. An invisible force hurled Algowagh so far away and so powerfully, that the man swept three columns away before stopping, falling on his back and sinking the spear deeper into his body. A rivulet of blood ran from his open mouth. Algowagh gave a groan and started, before letting his body go, his bloody eyes wide-open and staring at the ceiling above him.

The room fell absolutely silent.

Sara was lost for words. Everything had happened too quickly. From the position Faewal was in, Sara could see only partially, but enough to understand that Algowagh was dead. Still, she could not put all pieces of the story together. She had a flash, and several images came to her mind.

Algowagh standing at the end of an anonymous corridor, waiting for her.

A tranquil little man, with his thin brown hair, his large white whiskers, and his eyes, like little hazelnuts, hidden behind round and golden glasses.

Algowagh drawing a series of parallel lines on a blackboard.

Algowagh speaking of dimensions, Big Empty, Spatial-Temporal Abyss and System's Laws.

Algowagh reassuring her.

Algowagh telling her how important the Norman's history was.

The Normans . . .

Algowagh had killed the Normans!

Was there a crumb of truth in what he had told her or had she only served to avoid the nth law of a world that she felt she did not belong to? Had she been only a pawn in the attempt on Faewal's life? Was she an attempted murder accomplice?

Faewal was lying in a puddle of blood. She was wheezing and gnashing her teeth at every breath. That girl, so little girlish, so proud of being a warrior and so quick and rude in manners, was now so vulnerable.

Sara realised that her view was changing and somebody was moving Faewal's body.

Huydai had stared at the scene in absolute silence. He had seen the air moving, and Algowagh been flung far away. He had remained still, overwhelmed by a sort of religious awe. For sure the woman was a goddess, he thought, there was no other explanation. He turned towards her.

The woman had Faewal in her arms and was cherishing her sweetly, kissing her and whispering something to her.

The girl's eyes were opened, but she was so exhausted that she barely managed to look into her mother's eyes. "Mum," she said, slowly and painfully.

"My love. . ."

Faewal closed her eyes, as if to collect her last strengths, and opened them again a few seconds later. The warrior nature seemed to be back. "We have to stop the Abyss," she said.

The woman remained still. Her daughter was there, in her arms, almost dying, and with her last energies she wanted to save the System. What a strong woman her little girl had become! She plucked up her courage and nodded. Her gaze moved to Sildariel still trapped into the tangle of wires. She gently moved her daughter's body, kissing her on the forehead, and stood up, closed her eyes, and started murmuring undecipherable words.

A gentle breath of wind moved the wires net, and the wizard's wrists and ankles were finally freed. The man, whose colour had been grey until that moment, changed, and his beard became white like snow, his skin turned pale pink, his kaftan regained its original light blue colour, and his pointed hat and the cloak became ultramarine. His arms softly fell to his sides, his mouth closed and his eyes slowly opened, revealing their cobalt shade. As if he was flying, the man's body descended until his bare feet touched the floor, and the wiry net fell down, moving as if it was made of feathers.

The wizard looked at the woman in front of him and smiled.
Thank you

"Thank you," said the wizard. "Only a powerful magician could have broken the spell that was keeping me trapped."

The woman smiled and lowered her eyes modestly.

"I hope that your presence here does not mean that the First Dimension is already melting into the Abyss," Sildariel's gaze ran over the room. "For sure, you can help me repair the damages, which seem to be quite serious."

Algowagh's body sat on the floor, leaning on the columns rubbles. The spear point was emerging from his throat, and his head was bent backwards, making the point even more evident. His eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling, and blood had come out so copiously from his wounds that his body was in the middle of a large, red puddle. In the second area covered with debris, just opposite where Algowagh was, Faewal was lying exhausted.

"Why is she here?" asked Sildariel.

"Algowagh brought her here."

"Why?"

"He managed to convince everybody in Dimension Fifteen that a rescue mission was needed to stop the Abyss. He worked on it for a long time, and his plot was extremely cunning. Unfortunately, it didn't involve Faewal only," the woman said, gesturing towards Faewal.

"Who else?"

"Somebody from Dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven. A warrior."

"OneThousandEightHundredSeven? How come?"

"Apparently, the only warrior who could have helped Faewal belonged to such dimension."

"I have serious difficulties in believing it."

Huydai was still hiding behind a column, but near enough to hear what the two were saying. They were clearly speaking about him. He stepped forward and appeared from the shade.

Sildariel turned his head and stared at him for a few seconds. "Welcome to the city of Fjunur," he said politely. Even in such a dramatic situation and with Huydai's presence clearly against all Laws, Sildariel could not avoid behaving as a perfect host.

Huydai had never seen somebody older than the man standing in front of him. He stared at the wizard in awe, as if he was a god, with his almost unreal appearance and his calm and polite manners.

"And then he needed the third person," continued the woman.

Sildariel turned towards her again. "Of course. He could have never entered the city of Fjunur."

"That's why he persuaded everybody that the only creature who could have helped them was from Dimension FourHundredSeventyThree."

"At least a little bit more evolved!"

"But the creature turned out to be too weak to bear dimensional crossings, and they made her transmute."

"Transmute? There is absolutely no reason why a creature from Dimension FourHundredSeventyThree would not bear dimensional crossings. Did they make her transmute into the warrior from Dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven?"

"No. Into Faewal," said the woman.

"Into Faewal? For all the bright stars of the darkest universe!"

"This way, they were three were facing Pichros at the same time, while Algowagh entered the city undisturbed."

"This fellow," Sildariel looked at the dead wizard, outraged.

"Faewal had to face Pichros twice, once for herself and once for the creature she is hosting, and this made her lose control over her body."

"You mean that the creature from Dimension FourHundredSeventyThree was in control of Faewal's body?"

"Exactly."

"What a risk they ran!"

"Indeed. But eventually, Faewal managed to regain control and uncovered the truth about Algowagh and his plan. They fought, and, as you can see, the two warriors got the upper hand, but Faewal has been seriously injured."

Sildariel's gaze moved on the girl lying on the floor, her eyes half-open and with clear difficulties in breathing. "Algowagh would do this to his own child in order to meet his target. How is it that nobody understood his real intentions?" He paused and looked at the woman. "Of course, you did. . ."

"But it was not enough," she said, discouraged.

"It didn't stop all this from happening, but the result would have probably been worse without your interference."

The woman sighed loudly. "Sildariel, I know that I should not, but I must ask you something," she said, lowering her gaze.

The wizard remained silent.

"Faewal," the woman was visibly torn. "Can't you . . . I mean, I know the Laws, but is there any possibility that it is not, you know . . . her moment?"

Sildariel's expression was extremely serious. "I know that you know the Laws," he said after a while. "As I know that you could have breached them, and I appreciate that you have asked me instead."He stared at Faewal. "You said that the creature from Dimension FourHundredSeventyThree is in Faewal's body, is it not?"

A glimmer of hope crossed the woman's face. "Yes," she whispered.

Sildariel rubbed his left check with a hand and moved towards Faewal, slowly, as if taking the time to think. He kneeled beside the girl and ran his gaze over her battered body. Faewal's mother joined him silently and observed the scene with apprehension.

"I'm afraid," he said, "but the only thing I can do is a Procrastination Spell."

The woman seemed deflated. She looked in his cobalt eyes and sighed. "I trust your judgement, of course," she replied resignedly.

Sildariel stood up and breathed deeply. He joined his hands before his chest, closed his eyes, and started uttering the incantation, then slowly separated his hands to create a space, which soon filled with a slightly orange light. Once the light had reached its peak intensity, the wizard moved his hands away from each other, kneeled down again, and begun to pass his palms some centimetres above Faewal's body, starting from her feet and moving up to her head. As the orange light hit a wound, this stopped bleeding and healed gradually, until the girl's skin became intact again. The wizard lingered on the big wound on Faewal's chest, which eventually healed, and once he had passed his hands above the girl's head, and the cut on her right eyebrow had disappeared, the light ceased, and Sildariel opened his eyes and stared at Faewal.

Her breathing had become regular, and she was not moaning any more. She opened her eyes and saw Sildariel above her. The oldest man she had ever seen—older than she could have imagined. The colour of his eyes was so intense that she could not take her own eyes off them, and its shade was just the right one needed to instill in her a deep sense of calmness, such as she had never felt before.

Despite being so devastated, Faewal had been able to follow the discussion between the wizard and her mother. She was not a magician, of course, but she had some knowledge of magic and she knew what a Procrastination Spell was. It was not the sort of spell that magicians would use often, for a very simple reason; its the rate of success was extremely low.

The System's Laws were very clear. If one was destined to die, there was nothing that could be done to prevent it. No being, no magician, however evolutionarily advanced or powerful, could have opposed death, if this was written. But if there was a valid reason, a powerful magician could have cast the Procrastination Spell on a being in order to delay its death. The extremely low rate of success was uniquely due to the fact that some cases could have appeared as surely destined to be the end of one's life, whereas, for a reason inscrutable to any living creature, they were not so. And that's when the Procrastination Spell could actually turned into a life saving intervention—which could not truly be called life saving, because the death was not written, but this pertains to the nuances of the Ethereal Philosophy of the Higher System, of which Faewal surely did not know in detail.

The valid reason to cast a Procrastination Spell on Faewal, in this case, was the presence of Sara in her body. It was highly probable that Faewal's death was supposed to happen exactly in that moment, but because it was not so highly probable that her death coincided with that of Sara, there was a very good reason for Sildariel to cast the Procrastination Spell, and thus save the life of Sara who would surely have died in the moment Faewal breathed her last breath.

The second person who Faewal saw above her was of course her mother. "Mum," she whispered.

The woman moved one step towards her daughter and reached her hands out. "I'm here, my love," she said sweetly. "Can you stand?"

Faewal grabbed her mother's hand and firmly planted her feet on the ground to lift her body. She wondered how easy and painless it was to stand up, as if she had not been injured at all. Once up, she did not let go of the woman's hand and looked in her eyes. As she could concentrate on something other than the pain of her wounds now, a burning question came to her mouth. "Are you a magician?" she asked.

The woman hesitated. "It wasn't my destiny," she replied.

Faewal looked at her with curiosity, as if she was in front of a stranger. In fact, when the woman had been trapped into the multifaceted stone of the medallion, Faewal was just a little girl and she had not spent too much of her life with her mother. Apart from her few memories, Faewal's knowledge of her mother was due to the stories that her father had told her and the memories of her eldest brother Lethkhjar. As it is understandable in such cases, Faewal had idealised the woman after her disappearance, transforming her in an almost mythical figure, yet she had never associated her mother with magic.

The woman had not said no, she had just said that it wasn't her destiny.

The System's Laws were pretty clear about destiny, which was not simply a time to be born and a time to die, but more broadly related to a task, a duty that had to be accomplished during one's life span. If one was not destined to be a magician, however talented, he or she simply could not be one. Magicians were part of a special and very elitist group, to preserve the peculiarity of which they were not allowed to generate offspring with other than members of such a group.

Her mother was not descended from magicians, of this Faewal was sure. She remembered her grandmother very well. A gentle and calm, tiny lady who used to tell her fairy tales and allowed her to mess around in the kitchen with her, pretending to make the best ever fairy cakes. Not one single time she had seen her grandmother entering the Alchemistry Laboratory or doing any magic. No, her grandmother could not be a magician. Faewal scrutinised her mother's face, "Grandmother wasn't a magician," she finally said.

The woman sighed, "We have to rewrite the History now."

Faewal looked deceived.

Sildariel, who had remained aside since he had cast the Procrastination Spell, stepped towards the woman and, putting a hand on her shoulder, reassured her. "Take some moments to explain it to your daughter. You owe it to her."

The woman stared at the wizard in disbelief, but as his calm smile did not vanish from his face, she convinced herself that there was nothing wrong in telling Faewal the truth. "Grandmother wasn't, but grandfather was," she started after a deep breath.

Faewal had never met her grandfather, who had died in the never-ending war against the Elves, but she remembered all the pictures of him as a great warrior and, of course, all the stories that grandmother and other people at court had always told her about him. She was a warrior as well, and she was very proud of being descended from warriors from both branches of the family. "He was a warrior," she said.

"Your grandfather's brother was a warrior."

The only brother of her grandfather whom she knew was Sapiens Universalis, and for sure he was not a warrior! "Did they have a third brother?" she asked, quite surprised.

"Are you dumb or what?" intervened Sara, who had followed both the conversation and Faewal's memories. "Sapiens Universalis is your grandfather!"

Faewal opened her eyes wide, "Sapiens Universalis?" she repeated loudly.

"Yes. He is your real grandfather," the woman confirmed. "Nobody could know, of course. You know the Laws. No magician can marry or have kids with a non-magician. There can't be half-magicians practising magic. But Sapiens Universalis and your grandmother fell in love, and no Law was strong enough to oppose their feelings. When your grandmother found out that she was with child, she did not want to risk her beloved's destiny and married his brother, who was descending from magicians too, but not destined to become one, and thus free to marry a non-magician. Unlike Sapiens Universalis, he knew the truth and accepted it, for the sake of his own brother and the one of your grandmother, whom he did love. When I was born, he recognised me as his own daughter and raised me as such, as he loved you all as his real grandchildren. But when he died in a battle, your grandmother finally decided to tell the truth to Sapiens Universalis, who was by then already the most powerful magician of Dimension Fifteen, and no one could have questioned his position at court any more. I think that Sapiens Universalis had always known the truth, because he was not surprised by such news. Anyway, they decided to keep it secret and, apart from your father, nobody else knew the truth, which turned out to be a good thing indeed, because I could find out what Algowagh's plans were without him suspecting that I was able to do so. When he eventually realised it, I wasn't prepared to stop him, but I was experienced enough to protect myself from death."

"And that's why he trapped you inside the medallion."

"As he couldn't kill me, this was his way of stopping me."

"And then he spread the news about the Elves kidnapping you."

"Exactly."

Now everything made sense! Faewal would have asked her mother a thousand more questions, but Sildariel approached them again.

"I'm afraid, my dear Ladies, that now we are running out of time," he said with his polite and composed manners. "The Abyss is proceeding fast, and we should really concentrate our focus on the History if we want to save the System."

Even if both Faewal and her mother had wanted to talk for hours, they understood the urgency in Sildariel's words. "Of course," said the girl, smiling at the mother. "We will have time for this."The woman smiled back, but Faewal caught a glimmer of melancholy in her eyes. She repressed the thought of the Procrastination Spell and its implications and turned towards Sildariel. "Tell us what to do, Master," she said energetically.

Sildariel did not answer, but moved towards the bookcase where the purple books were becoming more and more transparent, until they vanished from the shelves, one by one, with worrying rapidity."The Books of the Future History are countless. They are stored in that bookcase and they are empty," he pointed at the bookcase filled with green books on the opposite side of the room. "As events occur in the different dimensions, letters and words appear one after the other on those green books, until all their pages are filled. As books are getting written, their cover changes, turning from green to purple, and when there is not one single white page left and the cover is exactly the same shade of the books on this bookcase, the book vanishes from that shelf and appears here, next to the purple ones, becoming a Past History book."He paused and brushed the almost empty shelf with his long and bony fingers. "The Abyss is deleting the purple books. To oppose it, we have to re-write the History and regenerate the purple books. Through a powerful spell, we," he looked at Faewal's mother, "will write the History as it was, but because it won't be the process as it naturally occurs, the books won't vanish by themselves, but need to be brought physically over to the right shelves. And that's where you come in."He stopped his cobalt eyes on Faewal and Huydai.

The girl nodded.

Huydai blinked and ran his gaze over the three persons around him. Of course he did understand what he was required to do, but apart from moving books from one side of the room to the other, the Past History, the Future History, and—to tell the truth—the History concept itself, were far from being clear. And dimension too was another funny word they kept using that held no real meaning for him.

Sildariel could not ignore Huydai's perplexed expression. He went nearer and looked straight in his eyes. "It is perfectly normal for you not to understand what is happening in this room," he started. "In fact, I would be surprised by the opposite. But even if I would, I could not explain it to you, and this is for different reasons, of which the most important is time; as soon as all these purple books will disappear, the world will end."The wizard paused and scrutinised Huydai's face.

Huydai could feel that the old man in front of him was sincere, that he was not speaking so to mislead him or make him do something that he would never accept to do otherwise. Unlike Algowagh and Faewal, who had concocted the story of the rebels, the old man in front of him was telling the truth, simply by saying that he could not tell him the truth. Huydai had no doubts that the old man was sincere not only because of the words that he was using, but also because of his manners, his behaviour. He did not know whether the old man was a god or not, but perceived him as somehow superior. All his doubts were far from being dispelled, but what he could read in the old man's eyes was that he, the little brother, the one who always did it wrong, was part of something bigger. Bigger than the village he grew up in. Immensely bigger than the prairie, the Baredust Mountains and the entire world that he had always known. What he could also read in the old man's eyes was that, however big the whole thing was, there was still a little part, a microscopic task, which he was required to perform in order to prevent the world to end. And for the first time in his life, he truly wanted to perform such a microscopic task, which would not help him to find his real parents, and which would not bring him something that he could take advantage of. For the first time in his life, a thought that he could have never imagined before crossed his mind. However important it was to find his real parents and his origins, there was something even more important, not only for him, but for everyone else in the world. For those people standing in that weird room together with him, for his brother Yuk, for the people of the village, for his true parents, for his true people and for all the existing living creatures which he did not even know. He would have saved the world—his own way—and for the first time he wanted to do it not just to become a hero. He did not even know whether he would have become a hero and, weirdly, he did not care. He looked at the old man with complete confidence. "I have to bring the books from one side to the other, right?" he asked with a very serious expression.

"Exactly," answered Sildariel with equal seriousness.

"It's not such a difficult task."

Sildariel smiled gently. "So, let's do it," he exhorted, stepping towards the Future History bookcase. He looked at Faewal's mother who, as for a secret sign, understood immediately. Facing the bookcase, they held their hands and started uttering a spell with a language that nobody else in the room could understand.

Nobody else, apart from Sara, who recognised something that triggered a memory in her mind. "Farian," she murmured mentally.

"Farian?" repeated Faewal.

"Yes," Sara confirmed with an unusual confidence. "They are speaking Farian, the books' language."

Faewal lifted an eyebrow. What was it? Sara could understand the Books of the Worlds' language? "Can you understand them?" she asked.

"No, I can't. I can just recognise the language they are speaking, but I don't understand the meaning."

Faewal was lost for words. How come Sara knew Farian? Was there something that Algowagh had not told her about Sara? She tried to go back and remember the reason why Sara had been chosen, the reason that Algowagh had told her to justify such a choice, but she could not recall it. Something escaped her . . .

Meanwhile, the spell was going on, and the two magicians were still speaking Farian, when the spine of the book that was the nearest to Sildariel started to turn darker. Soon, the neighbouring books became affected by the same phenomenon, until their covers turned exactly the same purple of the books in the opposite bookcase. Sildariel stopped speaking and opened his eyes, darting a glance at Faewal who was so distracted by her thought that she had missed the moment she should have intervened to pick up the books. Feeling somehow reproached by the wizard's look, she moved towards the shelves immediately. "We'll come back to it later," she said mentally to Sara.

Sara was in a sort of trance. It was true that she could recognise Farian, but the memory was very confused, and she could not link it to a specific place, object, or even a person. When did she get in contact with such a strange language? How? It was so frustrating not to be able to remember. Apart from these rare flashes, she still had no idea where she was coming from. Her mind was so filled by the littlest details about the Normans, that there was no space left for her own memories.

The Normans, what a stupid excuse! It was clear that the two magicians were perfectly able to rewrite the History by themselves. There was no need for her. There was no need for her mind to be filled with the Normans.

Why the hell was she there? Why did Algowagh involve her? Why did he disturb her when she was in her world, whichever it was?

They spoke about a law. They said that he needed three persons to avoid a law. Was it the reason why she was there, to allow Algowagh to avoid a law?

No, there was something more. She could recognise a language that even Faewal did not know. There had to be something more.

So was so confused and so frustrated. Was it just a hope of hers to be still useful, important, somehow? Maybe it was just a hope and she had to face the truth. After all, they had never called her by her real name. They had always referred to her as the creature from Dimension FourHundredSeventyThree.

A creature.

Nothing more.
Faewal

Faewal picked up the first few books that had completely turned purple and ran to the opposite bookcase. As the two magicians continued the incantation, the number of purple books grew bigger and bigger, and the two warriors had to pile up several books in their arms at their second trip already.

"How many are they?" asked Huydai on his way back.

"A lot," said Faewal bluntly. "Conserve your energy."

Despite the fact that they had already moved a considerable amount of books from the Future History bookcase, the number of those remaining on the shelves did not seem to be affected. The job seemed like it could last forever, Huydai said to himself, but he avoided voicing his thoughts to Faewal who looked so focused in what she was doing that she did not even gaze at him when they crossed mid-way.

All of a sudden, Sildariel stopped speaking, and the woman did the same shortly after.

Faewal had just reached them and was about to pile up another bunch of books in her arms, when she noticed a very worried exchange of glances between the two magicians. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"I'm afraid, yes" Sildariel replied. "We have a problem."

"What is it?"

"A Temporal Knot."

In that exact moment, Huydai approached, walking quickly, and picked more books from the shelves. "It seems that we are almost through," he said, looking at the bookcase. "I can finally see some space here."

"Actually, there is a period that has been completely deleted from all the Dimensions," continued Sildariel, ignoring Huydai's comment. "Until now, we could regenerate the History because every period of it was still present in at least one other dimension. The spell that we are using can replicate periods, but only if there is already a copy of them somewhere. In this case, there are absolutely no traces of one period. Nowhere."

"But you are the Lord of the city of Fjunur," objected Faewal. "You should know the History."

"I'm afraid, this is not correct," replied the wizard regretfully. "Being the Lord of the city doesn't imply that I know the detailed History of the System."

The three looked at each other discouraged, while Huydai, conscious of his inability to understand all that was happening, kept going back and forth between the two sides of the room, persuaded that his microscopic and yet immensely important task was coming to its end. He just had one doubt. "Is everything ok?" he asked.

"More or less," Faewal replied. "Keep on moving books."

Now Huydai was sure that something was wrong, but told himself that it was better not to interfere and resumed moving books from one shelf to the other.

"Where is the Temporal Knot?" asked Faewal.

"It is exactly in the weakest point of the System," Sildariel replied.

A simple point that developed inside the whole System and only later happened to be the weakest one . . . Those words resounded in Sara's mind . . . A point that allowed an ordinary Unidirectional Tunnel to wrongly evolve into the Spatial-Temporal Abyss. "The point where the Spatial-Temporal Abyss originated!" Sara exclaimed.

Faewal pondered. Of course, it was exactly where the Spatial-Temporal Abyss originated. It was what Sapiens Universalis and Algowagh had explained to them all. "The point where the Spatial-Temporal Abyss originated," she repeated loudly.

"Exactly," Sildariel confirmed. "Which corresponds to a very precise period in the History of the Worlds."

"The period of the Normans," said Sara.

"The period of the Normans," repeated Faewal without realising that she was speaking out loud.

"The Normans!" Sildariel exclaimed. "No trace of them is left. . ."

Sara kept quiet, surprised that nobody seemed to remember her and the very specific reason why she was there. "Faewal," she called gently.

"Not now, Sara."

"But—"

"I said, not now!"

Her host was really unbearable when she was under pressure, Sara thought. "No, NOW you listen to me. You must tell Sildariel that I know the Normans' history to perfection." Her voice resounded so imperious that Faewal was seriously impressed. "I said now, and I mean it!"

Faewal cleared her throat. "Sara," she began.

"Who's Sara?" asked Sildariel.

"It's her second name," said Huydai distractedly, putting the last of a ten-books pile in his arms and leaving for the opposite bookcase.

Faewal looked askance at him, as to suggest to the magicians not to pay attention to his words. "Sara is the creature from Dimension FourHundredSeventyThree," she replied. "The one who had transmuted."

"Oh, Sara! And what's wrong with Sara?"

"Nothing in particular," Faewal minimised. "She likes to interrupt with a flair for drama and she would like you to know that she knows—" Faewal stopped and opened her eyes wide, thunderstruck by her own words. "Sara knows the history of the Normans to perfection!" she concluded an octave higher. It really seemed that, in such turmoil, she had forgotten the reason why Sara had joined them. "It can't be," she continued, noticing how surprised the two magicians were. "Algowagh could not have been so stupid as to involve someone who could actually rewrite the History. I mean, rewrite it as it was and not as he wanted it to be."

Sildariel pondered a few seconds. "Maybe he had not been stupid. Maybe he had just been forced," he thought out loud.

"What do you mean?"

"Algowagh was not the only wizard studying the case. Your grandfather was working with him on that, and it is highly probable that Sapiens Universalis, and not Algowagh, identified Sara. At that point, Algowagh had no grounds to oppose Sapiens Universalis' decision and he might had fallen back on a different solution."

"The transmutation!" Faewal exclaimed.

"Exactly. The transmutation, which would have not made sense otherwise. Algowagh likely sought to kill two birds with one stone. On the one hand, to make Sara transmute into your body would have made her less free to act and, at the same time, be the third person he needed to avoid Pichros' First Law, while on the other hand, it obliged you to face Pichros twice, and, knowing that Sara was totally unprepared for it, made it highly probable that you would fail. That's why he had managed to convince everybody that the transmutation was the only solution. He knew that Sara would not have been a problem because, in the event that you had failed, which he took for granted, Sara would have remained trapped inside your body. And the Normans' history would have been lost forever."

"It seems that we have solved the problem," Faewal said with a practical tone. "We just need Sara."

Sara was happy. Not only they were finally calling her by her own name, but they actually needed her. If she could have smiled, she would have surely done so.

"Indeed," Sildariel confirmed. "We only have to take Sara out of your body."

The imaginary smile on Sara's face died on her lips. "Take me out?" she asked alarmed. "And . . . just where do you want me to go?"

What happened next left no time for answers. Time was getting short, not for the Past History books, which were almost completely rewritten, but for the effects of the Procrastination Spell, which were disappearing rapidly.

After a brief consultation with Sildariel, Faewal's mother vanished in a flash of light—which Sara thought being a Betwixt Door—and reappeared, five endless minutes later, in a different part of the room and from another flash of light, carrying something heavy in her arms.

"I could have done it," Faewal murmured.

"No," Sildariel contradicted her. "You could not. It would have shortened the effect of the Procrastination Spell dramatically."

Sara was very confused. She could not figure out how they intended to take her out of Faewal's body and, more importantly, where they intended to put her. She could only imagine herself as a sort of spirit, or ghost, wandering amongst the green and purple books. Then, she recognised what Faewal's mother was carrying in her arms. "My body!" she exclaimed in a moaning tone.

In fact, the woman was walking towards them with Sara's lifeless body. Its skin was colourless, and the arms and legs were hanging loose. To see her own body in such a state and from such a viewpoint, gave Sara a very weird, almost frightening, feeling. Faewal's mother laid Sara's body gently at Sildariel's feet, and from a hidden pocket of her dress she extracted a little syringe with a vivid red liquid inside.

Sara simply could not think. She had almost forgotten her body, and had become so used to being hosted in Faewal's, that now that she was finally going to get her own back, with everything that this implied, she did not feel quite ready.

Faewal reached up to her mother and rolled up one sleeve, exposing the inside of her arm. She looked at the woman who gave her a worried look back.

"What's wrong?" asked Sara on tenterhooks.

"There's nothing for you to worry about."

"But you mother does look worried."

"She is," Faewal murmured, as the needle sunk into her flesh. "For me. . ."

In no time, the red liquid disappeared from the syringe, and, as soon as the woman pulled the needle out of her daughter's arm, Faewal closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

Huydai had stopped. Of course, he knew that there were many things he could not understand, but the moment he had heard Sara's name, his attention had been diverted from his task, which seemed almost accomplished, anyway, and so he had decided that he deserved some rest and had stopped. When he had seen Faewal's mother disappearing in a flash of light, he had begun to worry and, the moment she had reappeared in the same inexplicable way and with a dead person in her arms, worry turned to scared. But he could not believe his eyes when he saw what was happening to Faewal after her mother had inserted the thin point of a strange-looking, little red weapon into her arm.

A thin line of white smoke slowly appeared from her nostrils and, moving towards the dead girl, it concentrated into a dense cloud above the latter. Once it was completely out of Faewal's body, the smoke started to enter into the dead girl's nostrils, and soon her natural colours started to come back to her body, making her look less dead than before. Then, the girl opened her eyes and glanced around without looking too surprised, as if she had always been with them. In fact, she seemed more surprised at her own body, staring at her hands, her arms and legs, and touching her face as if she needed to convince herself that she was not dreaming."It's my body," she finally murmured.

It was not the first time that Huydai heard this voice. It was the same weird voice that Faewal had used when she was raving about her second name.

"Yes. It is your body, Sara," Sildariel reassured her.

Sara?

Huydai was lost again. "Are you Sara?" he asked.

The girl raised her gaze to him. "I am," she said proudly.

Huydai looked at Faewal in search of help, but she was clearly concentrated on something else. She had her hand pressed firmly on her chest and she began to look pale and tired. On her white shirt, just under her hand, a fresh blood stain was spreading rapidly.

Sildariel and Faewal's mother exchanged a worried glance. The wizard put a hand on the shoulder of the woman who had closed her eyes and was trying to repress a sort of grimace.

Faewal was conscious of the meaning of what was happening. If the Procrastination Spell had had a positive effect, her wounds should not have come back, but unfortunately, what was happening left no room for doubts. However excellent in the art of the war, Faewal had never risked her life uselessly and she had never considered herself invulnerable. She knew that every battle could be final and had always been prepared to die. She found it just terribly unfair that her time to die was the moment when she had finally found her mother after an entire lifetime without her. But battles did not have room for feelings, and this was a battle, however unconventional, but still a battle. She would have maintained her martial behaviour until the end, and her warrior soul would have been proud of the contribution that she had brought in achieving the mission. "Let's finish what we have started," she said with a fierce light in her eyes.

Her mother stared at her. She wanted to hold her tight and tell her millions of things—all those things that Algowagh had prevented her from saying for so many years—but her daughter was like her and like her grandfather, rigorous and responsible until the end. In that moment, the mission was the most important thing, and her daughter knew it, as well as she did. The woman breathed in deeply, nodding and stifling a tear, and finally turned towards Sildariel.

Sara did not understand exactly what the problem was, but she realised that it was a serious issue. Following Faewal's and her mother's example, she looked at the wizard.

Huydai knew only that the wound on Faewal's chest was extremely bad. He had seen men dying as a result of much less serious injuries. And yet, everybody seemed to be more worried about something else, something that the old man with the funny hat was supposed to do, or at least this was the conclusion he had reached, considering that they were all looking at the wizard. So, he decided to look at him too.

Sildariel looked sad. A shadow crossed the cobalt of his eyes when he met Faewal's. More than sad, he looked resigned. The moment to repair the damages caused by the Spatial-Temporal Abyss had come, and he should have been exulting for this, but Faewal's condition had cast a dark shadow on the entire operation. It was not always so easy to obey the Laws, and it was probably harder for him, the Lord of the city of Fjunur, so powerful and yet so powerless. He took two steps back, joining his hands above his head with an ample gesture, then closed his eyes and, with his face facing the ceiling, started murmuring something. After a while, he lowered his arms, until its joined hands were just before his chest, and then he slowly separated his palms.

Something white, long and slightly curved formed in between the wizard's hands. It was a thin feather.

Sildariel opened his eyes and took the feather, turning towards Sara and held it out to her. "Take it," he said, extremely serious. "Write everything you know about the Normans in the book of your dimension which corresponds to the Normans' period. As soon as you will finish, we would be able to rewrite all parallel periods in the remaining books, and the Past History will be completed."

Looking straight in the wizard's eyes, Sara took the thin feather from his hand and followed his movements as he approached the bookcase and extracted a book whose cover was much more purple than green, yet not yet purple enough.

The wizard opened the book, slowly turning a few sheets filled with Farian characters, and finally stopped on a page with three lines only. "Continue from this point," he said solemnly.

The book remained suspended in mid-air, exactly where Sildariel had left it, and Sara closed her eyes. As the point of the feather touched the white page, Sara's hand started to write the complicated Farian characters with unexpected dexterity, and she stopped writing exactly above what had already been regenerated with the spell, the two texts fitting so perfectly together that no one could have told the difference between them. Sara opened her eyes and looked at Sildariel with the same serious expression that she had before starting. The feather vanished from her hands, and the book closed, remaining suspended half-way between her and the wizard.

"Bring it to its place," said Sildariel.

Without hesitation, Sara took the book and put it in between two purple volumes on the Past History bookcase. On her way back, she saw that Sildariel and Faewal's mother were already busy with the spell to regenerate the History into the remaining books. She approached Huydai and Faewal from behind, not realising immediately what was going on.

Faewal had her hand on Huydai's forearm and she was clutching it as if she was looking for support. Sara moved before them and faced Faewal just in time to catch her before she fell down. She slid her arm around Faewal's neck in order for her head to rest on it, and their eyes met. Faewal's beautiful emerald green eyes had lost their sparkle and looked dim. The two girls stared at each other for a few moments.

"Faewal," said Huydai, worried.

Faewal turned her head towards him and smiled weakly. "Don't worry. Don't disturb them," she said in a whisper.

"But—"

"Do what she had asked you," Sara intervened. "Please. . ."

Faewal's grip loosened, and her weight moved completely on Sara, who slowly bent her knees to follow through until Faewal's body could lie down on the floor. "Thank you for everything," murmured Faewal looking at Sara with a sweet expression as she had never had before shown.

"It was my pleasure," Sara replied with a smile.

Then Faewal turned towards Huydai and murmured something in such a low voice that he was not able to understand.

"What?" he asked, wrinkling his brow.

But Faewal had already closed her emerald green eyes, and her head had leaned gently on one side.

When Sara realised that there was no more life in the body that she had been captive in until only a handful of minutes before, she felt a dull pain inside.

In that exact moment, Sildariel and Faewal's mother stopped their magic chant and opened their eyes. They turned towards the three, and a dismayed expression appeared on their faces. They both knew that it could have happened, but they had truly hoped to terminate the spell before.

Faewal's mother moved towards her daughter with light and controlled steps, breathing deeply and struggling to keep control of her emotions. Sildariel followed her, and when they finally reached the girl, he gestured for Sara and Huydai to move the remaining books on the bookcase. The woman knelt beside her daughter's body and held her the way she had wanted to do just a few minutes before, when she was still alive. She cried silently, in such a way that could not be defined other than royal. She caressed the girl's face, moving away the long red locks from her forehead and kissed her gently.

Sildariel remained still, one step behind the two, and could not stop a tear from running through the deep wrinkles of his old face, until it finally hide in his white beard, as if it had never come out of his eyes."I'm sorry," he whispered, once the woman had put her daughter's body on the floor again and had stood up. He put his hands on her shoulders and held her tight.

The woman abandoned herself to such an embrace, breathing as deeply as she could, and then moved slightly away. "Now we only have to send everybody home again," she said with reddened eyes, yet with a firm voice.

Sildariel nodded. Sara and Huydai had finished arranging the last books and had returned to the two magicians, and for a few moments nobody said anything, as if nobody wanted to acknowledge Faewal's passing.

"You have to go back to your worlds now," started Sildariel, after a while. "A door to Dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven will open shortly."

Huydai kept staring at the man without any reaction.

"You will be the first one," continued Sildariel, but once more Huydai did not seem to understand.

"You go back to Yuk," said Sara, brushing Huydai's arm.

He opened his eyes wide. "Am I going back to the village?"

"Yes," Sildariel confirmed.

"But, I believed. . ."

"The mission is accomplished, and you are still alive. There is no reason why you should not go back to your people."

My people . . . Huydai was confused. The mission had not turned out to be what Algowagh and Faewal had told him. He had not fought any rebel gods and he had not found his real parents either. Algowagh had become a monster and had been defeated, while Faewal had died as well in order to kill Algowagh. They had found an old man, so old that he could not even be described, a beautiful woman who had turned out to be Faewal's mother, and a girl who had risen from death. In all this, the only thing that he had understood was that the mission has been accomplished. Without taking into consideration the fact that he did not understand what the mission had been about, he could consider himself satisfied with such a result. Still the funniest thing was the effect that the old man's words had just produced on him. He was actually happy to go back to his village! "They will never believe me," he said, shaking his head.

"They don't have to," replied Sildariel.

Huydai looked at him, puzzled.

"Unfortunately, you can't remember what had just happened."

"Why?"

"Because you have seen things that you should not have seen, and we cannot take the risk of you telling what you have seen to other people who are not supposed to know what you have seen."

Huydai could not see the logic of Sildariel's reasoning.

"Nobody will believe you," the wizard went back to the simplified version.

Huydai tried to imagine himself telling such a story to his brother and all the people of the village. The old man was right. He was not able to give exhaustive explanations, and nobody would have believed him, as usual.

"A bright door will open," resumed Sildariel, "and you will have to pass through it to go back where you belong."

Huydai remembered the strange light toward which Faewal had pushed him when they had left the village. It had to be something similar, he thought.

Sildariel got nearer and gently pressed his palms against Huydai's temples. "Thanks for your help," he said smiling. "Even if you won't remember having done it, you have done a lot for the System."

Huydai could sense the pressure on his temples, and a sort of continuous whistle echoed through his head. What was the man speaking about? What was the System? There was a light behind Sildariel, and the whistling sound had become very high pitched, almost unbearable. Even if Huydai could still see the wizard moving his lips, he could not hear a single word. His head still blocked between the man's hands, he rolled his eyes as much as he could to look for something becoming more and more unclear in his head. The light behind the man was brighter and brighter, and Huydai could not distinguish the figure in front of him any further. He wanted to oppose whatever was keeping him trapped, but his body did not react to his will any more, and he could not figure out what was keeping him in such a state. Only his eyes were still searching for something. Something . . . Out of the corner of his eye, he eventually met Sara's gaze. He had the impression that he knew who the girl was, but he could not remember anything related to her. Only her face was somehow familiar. Suddenly, Sildariel removed his hands and moved aside. Huydai found himself directly in front of the dazzling light. He stopped breathing for a few seconds and was unable to react to the push coming from behind his shoulders. Too late; he was already falling into the light. And yet, he was sure that he had seen that girl before . . .

The Betwixt Door to Dimension OneThousandEightHundredSeven closed slowly, swallowing Huydai up. It was a Z type door, a non-dangerous and relatively slow one, Sara remembered.

The calm came back to the room, and nobody said a word for a while.

The bookcases behind the thin marble columns were perfectly in order. Purple books on the right and green books on the left side. No space among the books on the limitless shelves.

Sara breathed in deeply. Such a place instilled in her an incredible sense of calmness. Her gaze crossed Sildariel's, and she was overwhelmed by an amazing sense of peace.

"You have to forget as well," started Sildariel.

She nodded. It was a shame, she thought, to forget it all, but she probably thought so only because she did not know what she would have found in her real world. At least Huydai could remember his brother and his village, but, thanks to the Normans, she could not remember a single thing of her previous life.

Something touched her. Faewal's mother was taking her hands in hers. "Thank you," the woman murmured, looking straight in Sara's eyes. "Without your help, we couldn't have made it, and my daughter's sacrifice would have been vain."

"It was an honour for me," Sara smiled, and then addressed Sildariel. "Where does my door open?" she asked with an expert expression.

The wizard raised a smile. "Come with me," he invited her.

Sara let go of the woman's hands, staring at her for a few more seconds. The woman bowed her head to greet Sara, who did the same and then moved to follow Sildariel who was approaching the line of columns separating the Future History bookcase from the rest of the room.

"Your door is an S type," he explained.

"I will be quick," she promised.

As he had just done to Huydai a few minutes before, Sildariel placed his hands on Sara's temples. She sensed the pressure and started to see a white glow that increased in brightness until Sildariel became only a dark shadow between her and the door. The light was so dazzling that Sara was forced to move her eyes up on the columns capitals. Despite the whistling becoming higher and the pressure on her temples becoming harder, she felt the urgency to ask one last thing, even if she knew that she would have forgotten it shortly after.

"Sildariel," she yelled, "What do these columns hold up?"

The wizard was so taken aback by such a question that he slightly reduced the pressure on Sara's temples.

The door was almost completely open.

"The air, of course!" he replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the universe.

The space between the two columns was now completely filled with the light of the door.

"Ah," Sara reacted to Sildariel's weird reply. "I have to go now, or the door will close!"She jumped into the light, wondering why Sildariel had not moved aside to let her go. She had the impression that something had brushed her arm, but most probably she had bumped into Sildariel while jumping, she thought.

And she abandoned herself to the warm and comfortable light of the Betwixt Door.
The music

The music was playing from the old silver radio on the shelf above the desk. Sara was lying prone on her bed, one arm hanging off the side and one foot jutting out, so deeply asleep that neither the music nor the knocking at the door seemed to disturb her.

Her brother came in silently and left an old Remington typewriter on the desk. The moment he was about to step out of the room, Sara opened her eyes.

"What. . ."

The boy turned around. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Don't worry. I guess I had to get up anyway."

"I brought your typewriter back," he said glancing at the desk.

Sara looked at the old Remington machine which would have been better displayed in a museum than on her desk. "Thanks," she said, distractedly. And then an idea started to form somewhere deep in her brain. "Thanks," she repeated. "It's a good idea. . ."

"Which idea?"

"The one I'm having."

Her brother stared at her, waiting curiously for more details.

"Do you have blank paper left?" she asked instead.

"What kind of paper?"

"Blank paper for the typewriter."

"To do what?"

"Type, of course."

"Why don't you use the laptop instead?"

Sara had not moved her gaze from the Remington machine. "Because I'm old fashioned," she said approaching the desk, her eyes sparkling with a light that she had never had before.

Or at least, one that her brother had never seen before.

***
About the author

Fulvia Bonaiuti is as happy as she had never been in her whole life. After struggling to be recognised as a tropical agronomist, fighting to fit in a tight UN job description and an even tighter one at the EU, she had a break from working and became a mother of two. Moving to Africa made her realise that she got it all wrong, and she finally decided to listen to the—luckily—tenacious little voice inside and unashamedly started to called herself a writer. She embarked on the titanic translation of what she used to call her few-pages story and just before moving back to Europe, she completed it.

She is currently eager to write the follow-up, as well as the entire saga. She just hopes it won't take as long as for the first book.

Every morning she swears she will be a better blogger, a more talented instagramer, or simply a more active social media user. Though, deep inside herself, she would only be let alone with her faithful, olive green Remington typewriter . . .

Follow Fulvia at Fjunur.wordpress.com
Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Felix, Sveva and Filippo for their patience and for the time I have stolen from them. Thanks for believing in my dream and letting me free to pursue it.

Thanks to Marta, my first true reader and editor. Your work on the original version has not been lost, even if the language has changed.

Thanks to Shital for your delicate and sensitive editing. I know it is not your genre and I really appreciated your struggle with magic and parallel dimensions.

Thanks to James for your laser-precision editing. I really improved not only my style but also my vocabulary with your comments.

Thanks to Max for your precious advice and encouragement. And thanks for teaching Farian to Sara!

Thanks to all my friends who were aware of this and continuously supported me, even when my writing looked more like an excuse to avoid socialising than a real thing. I know it took forever, but it is a real thing now!
