Chapter Text
In an extra dimensional, 1D, 2D, 3D, 4-5-6-7D space/time/plane/abyss, an axis of reality, the poles around which infinity spins, but also doesn't, two gods clashed.
Again, and again, and again.
- break -
"GOOD MO-O-O-ORNING NEIGHBORS!!! MORNING, MORNING, MORNNNIIING!!!"
Zorian snapped awake, hyper vigilant, having something of a mental breakdown before he was even processing what had happened.
He swept his surroundings by reflex and-
There were dozens of minds in his near area, teeming with strange, foreign magic, unlike any he had ever felt. The very structure of their minds was different, too. There were several packs of unique structures, only a couple that were alone. Beasts, he thought blearily, species of them.
But also-
He didn't believe in the Great Web, exactly. But he did believe that there was some mental force the world worked with.
It was gone.
Every current, any background hum of mana, the reverberations from his mana shaping on the world.
It was all gone.
He reached for it, and something brushed along him, but it wasn't his world.
It was not merely a strand of web he had never stood on, nor a web woven by a different spider, understandable but new. No, this was the internals of a battery, electricity zipping into him, lighting up his mana like nothing ever had before, flowing through him as though he was a tiny part of a massive circuit.
He recoiled, hiding from it, but it was everywhere, it was the world itself.
Zorian hissed, and put up barriers to cut the feeling off. They held, barely.
He was in a forest clearing.
It was a pretty place. The sun could not be seen over the treetops, but it had begun to light traces of the sky. The grass underfoot was green and springy even in the dark, and the air was clean and pleasantly cool.
The closest mind was a bird. It was alert, sharp, and what had been screaming good morning.
It was more than four times the overall size of a pigeon. It - he, actually, the animal had a sense of gender - was light brown and gray, with an orange beak tipped in black. Most interesting, he held two separate types of mana inside.
One of them was plain, like it could be shaped into anything with no real care. Yeast, ready to bake into any sort of bread. The other was bright and fluttering, free and steady, the ever running wind. They swirled together, separate and whole.
Zorian stared.
There were eighteen other birds nearby. They were smaller, and of the same coloration. Younger feeling, too. The same species, yet… not.
There were other things close to him.
Little pink things that looked like cherries, just as smart, with one type of mana, growing and growing, reaching to the sun.
A tangled mess of vines, alive, which held the same type of mana but with a feeling of spreading out, individual pieces, longer, more mass, needing more sunlight.
All of them were possessing of a greater intelligence than he would expect from most dungeon beasts. It was more than mildly alarming. Thankfully, nothing in his immediate area felt hostile (to him, anyway. Some of the wildlife was upset at being woken up).
Zorian, if you got technical about it, had been put into a different dimension before. A copy of his preferred one, sure, but he was, in a stretch of the truth, a hardened dimensional traveler.
Being in a different universe shouldn't be too much trouble…
Zorian silently cast a weak magic missile. It worked as intended. He watched his mana. It slowly began to refill. Greater than it would have at Cyoria, though. Interesting. Was he in a dungeon area of this place?
At any rate, he would assume his magic worked the same here. He still decided to conserve it, just in case.
He took a deep breath and lowered his shields again.
The strange world continued as it was, indifferent.
He cast his mental sense out as far as it would go. No human minds.
There were many more creatures. A few stuck out to him.
They held a sense of slipping along, not for themselves but for what they were, going, going, cool and clean.
Water, his brain translated.
He stood and began to walk over to it.
Where there was running water, there would eventually be people.
Assuming this dimension had people.
- break -
Before he ended up here, Zorian had been geared up for spending the day with Taiven.
Accordingly, this meant he was wearing rough travel clothing, a belt with a few knives, three spell focuses (for show), a water canteen, a bag with a deceptively large interior holding some of his more interesting crafting tools, and two spare pairs of glasses. He also had a camera, because Kirielle wanted some reference photos.
This was also how he ended up here. Taiven was body guarding someone on an archaeological dig, and she had asked if Zorian could be a special consultant for an ancient golem they found. Naturally, five minutes after he arrived, an intern stumbled into a previously inactive array, which flared to life and took him to where ever here was.
The walk to the river took long enough for the sky to fully brighten.
Zorian frequently found himself stopping, watching the minds around him, searching for intent.
Most of it was shockingly friendly. Even during an apparent territory battle he could feel a sort of honor code thrumming through the opponents, a promise of blood without death, defeat with mercy, mutual respect to the other fighter.
There were many more of the birds he had first seen, and stranger things still.
There were things deep in the earth, which felt alive and like rock. It was not wholly dissimilar to the earth elemental he had met before. One of them had something slippery about it, like it was itself an absence around the earth. It put Zorian's hackles up.
He tried to look closer, just out of curiosity, and his mental touch slipped over it.
There were things here that had natural mental barriers.
Alright then.
He made it to the river.
It was wide, and had a swift current. The water was a clear, calm blue, and sparkling under the sun. Rocks with springy green moss were scattered around it. A fish like creature jumped out, the spray of mist that followed it creating a rainbow.
It was idyllic. Beautiful.
An obvious trap.
Zorian flicked through his mental defenses, but they were fine.
He cast a few detect spells, but the grass and moss was really just grass and moss.
After a moment, Zorian shrugged to himself and sat down. When the fish things were leaping, he snapped a few photos for Kirielle.
He also shaped some water out of river and probed it with mana.
The river water was not only drinkable, it was the cleanest he had ever seen in his life.
Zorian was honestly a little offended.
He refilled his canteens anyway.
Zorian stretched his senses as far as they could go, but he couldn't feel anything recognizably human. He did, though, brush against — something, for a second.
And then it was gone.
Zorian frowned to himself. He reached in that general direction, but the bit of mental magic he had felt had fully disappeared.
Closer, a herd of same species creatures was approaching the river.
They felt like buds, growth, blooming in the spring, and thorns, nettles, and sticky, sticky sap.
Zorian watched as they came into view.
All but one of them were below his knees in height. Most of the creatures had stubby legs, and low to the ground faces. They looked like buds.
A few of them were a bit taller, and seemed to have flowers blooming out of their hands. A red one on the right, and a blue one on the left.
The big one was similar, but its flowers were bigger, and it felt— sharper. More awake. It watched over its people as they ran over to the bank of the river, dipping their tiny feet in. Some of them crashed into others from behind in sheer excitement for the water.
It was the closest Zorian had let any of the creatures get to him since he had woken up, so he was surprised when it spoke.
"Budew, my children, budew! I know we are watering now, but don't rush, don't rush. The river will be there for us for very long, yes it will!"
The budew (apparently) squeaked back in wordless noises of joy and assent.
Zorian felt unsettled. The way the thing had spoken was strange. It had certainly made noises with its mouth, but it had also sent out waves of that… typed mana while it did so, which somehow became mind magic without actually interfacing with his mind so he could understand them.
"Now, Roselia, look after them, and after them, must also water!"
"Yes, yes, Roserade, yes!"
It was, he thought, more emotional than mental. The way they talked tugged at him empathy, basing their words around shared understanding and care for each other.
The budew were… childlike, in feeling. They had distinguished sexes, too, for all that they were plants, and had no visible parts that could indicate something on the outside.
Zorian watched, but an idyllic trap continued not to spring.
The little creatures stumbled to the water, innocent and happy, and they shoved their stub feet in, drinking. The roselia took shifts in joining, while the Roserade — this one being both name and title — watched on, a gentle sentinel.
Zorian, resigned to the fact that this was going to be a really, really weird adventure, took a couple pictures for Kirielle, then stood up to walk over to the Roserade. He carefully projected that he was not looking for a fight, and was taken at apparent face value.
"Hello hello stranger! I am — Watcher of the Glade, Poison Bodied Thorn Spreader— Roserade," like with the aranea, his mind filled in a full concept for a name, then compacted it down to the one word, "and it is my pleasure, yes my pleasure, to welcome!"
"The welcome is appreciated. I am — Open Walker Speaking Between Factions — Zorian."
She blinked. Her head tipped. She looked almost human enough that something about it had Zorian stopping himself from shivering.
The split of her mouth smiled and oh fuck why did she have human teeth in her green gums so much fuck no. They were all molars, too. Even the ones in the front.
"Strange stranger. Welcome glade, Zorian. Seek what?"
"I got lost, and I am looking for my own kind."
"Yes, yes- Budew!" She did a small twirl, "no! Back back, not that place, Roselia get, there current!" She watched a moment, as a roselia retrieved a budew from a small… riptide, maybe? Zorian didn't know the proper names for river currents. She then turned back to him. "Other kin… yes yes, knowing. Go that way!" She pointed with a rosy arm, and Zorian had the knowledge beamed into his head. Follow the river for the time it took for an oran(? Juicy sweet yummy bright blue berries) bush to grow to the territory of the — garbled, an unfamiliar species — then keep going, at the cave mouth, look, see the tree, see the Eldest in the Woods One Who is Not Alpha But We Do Respect about more directions through the cave.
…
People lived in caves here?
Or, worse, were they so far away that Zorian had to pass through a mountain?
"My gratitude."
"No no! No debt incurred, happy help, if all, now, oh! Roselia, do not-"
A splash.
Roserade darted away. She moved much faster than he was expecting.
Zorian considered his situation for a long moment, then took a picture.
He looked at the pathless forest beyond, then the sandy, muddied bank by the river.
He followed her instructions, and started to walk downstream.
- break -
Zorian did not like physical exercise, but he acknowledged its necessity, and kept his body fit.
He had also never walked so much in his life.
It was terrible, and he couldn't decide if the world around him made everything better or worse.
The trees were old, and there was a sense of presence to them, like the world felt their age and loved them. The grass was freshly grown, but somehow it felt like the world loved it too. The mana in this world loved, and it loved freely.
Zorian did his best to block it out, which was quite effective, mostly because the world wasn't as interested in him. Zorian suspected that whatever primitive mind it had recognized him as an outsider.
The river was pretty. Its water stayed consistently bright, sparkling blue. It was so crystalline that it occasionally reflected tiny rainbows up at the sky.
The creatures that swam in it were simple, happy little things. By the time it occurred to him to try and fish one up for dinner, they had settled to sleep for the night.
Zorian made a small camp a little off the riverbank, eating the only snack food he had. He carefully set up some wards around the camp. He didn't know if things to avert wildlife would work on talking, intelligent creatures, so he focused on ones that would wake him up if they detected anything.
He debated on doing stronger ones, like something that blocked tracking in case this was somehow a targeted attack and the entire day had been meant to lure him into a false sense of complacency, then thought that was too paranoid even for him and that the only ones who would be tracking him were from home. Eventually, Zorian decided to make it impossible for someone he didn't know to find him, keeping his mana obscure to the world.
It was a nervous, uneasy sleep that night.
He woke with the dawn. It streamed over the world in great cheer, the sun happy to be back in the sky, wishing the moon a good morning.
Zorian was still in this awful world. Right then.
He got up and erased his camp. None of his wards had been disturbed in the night.
He slapped together some sticks with magic, realized he was thinking too hard, and used mana shaping to pull some water out of the river with a fish in it.
The fish had shiny red-orange scales and a decorative yellow beard. It had a typed mana that felt like a shallow pool, that was vaguely salty, vaguely fresh. It was rather bland overall, actually. Zorian didn't feel much intelligence from the fish, or any emotion beyond the base animal ones, so he had no compunctions roasting it over a fire, casting a few poison detect spells, and eating it.
He had eaten better seafood. He had also eaten worse.
Shrugging to himself, Zorian left the offal at the shore, and snapped a picture of the bones with some of the flesh still hanging onto it for Kiri. He decided that taking a piece of the fish with him to dissect the odd traces of mana lingering in its body, perhaps a part of the composition of the fish, was too much.
He kept walking. He was slower than yesterday, his legs feeling like overworked dough.
Come to think of it, he had no idea how long it took an 'oran' berry bush to grow… An entire bush was probably a long time… he might be weeks, or even months, out from civilization…
Zorian rested against a tree. He traced a finger along the bark. It was brown, solid and… like tree bark. Zorian had no idea if it was the same kind of oak tree in his world, for all that they looked similar on the outside.
He could feel the minds of the flying creatures, the winds under their wings. He could feel the minds of another new species, feeling like they blended in with the normal mana of the world, but also softly of water, flowing then stagnant. He could feel more of the budew and roselia, but with no Roserade with them. In the earth, there were more of the things that felt like Stone Child. Elsewhere, in a tree, there was something that felt like slow movements, patience, spun silk and a yearning for the skies.
The more he looked, the more he found.
It was a little awe inspiring.
He didn't know how he would get home. Finding other humans seemed like the natural course of things. The wilds were unknown and unsafe. Other people were also unknown and unsafe, but he had to try before putting them down as a lost cause. He could sell his skills to buy food, and set up a stable home then spend his time creating a ritual, or spell, or… something, that would somehow get him back to Altazia.
Hopefully he could quickly learn the language. And that he didn't pick up some terrible foreign diseases.
He kept walking.
He used some river water to wash off at noon. It wasn't too hot, but it felt good to relax.
Only one thing of real interest happened that day; he saw one of the locals shape their mana, and internally form it into a spell. It was a beaver like creature. He watched it get onto two legs and split a log by punching it, a white flash of light, feeling like the plain, background-noise mana, sizzling around the fist as it swung. The tree fell easily.
Zorian watched as it used its teeth to trim the log down to size, mana refilling at a steady pace.
He kept the same camp set up for the night.
He felt a little better when he started out the next morning. Watching the mana currents of the world kept him vaguely entertained, but not for long. He almost considered calling forward a simulacrum to talking, before banishing the idea because he knew it would only make fun of him for being bored, and then falsely accuse him of being desperate and lonely.
When evening came, the birds passing overhead, the same type as the one that woke him up that morning, took an interest in him.
"Hey! You!" A small bird swooped down and landed in front of Zorian. "Yeah, you!" The rest of the flock, twelve in all, landed behind him, settling into a tree. They all felt vaguely exasperated already.
"Bold Challenger that Loves Pecha — Starly," a larger one sighed. "That's a human. You know they can't understand us."
"Understand this then!" He threw himself forward, spread his wings and glared. "I challenge you to a battle." There was nothing malicious about the bird, just a desire to improve himself, and show off to the female.
Well. That was interesting. "I can understand you just fine. And other humans can't understand you?"
Starly reared back. "You speak?"
"They all speak, they just don't listen," another bird chattered.
"Yeah, humans are DUMB!"
"Yeah!"
"Yeah, yeah!"
"Enough!" The starly in front of Zorian screeched. "So, human. You can speak. I'm glad to know you are smarter than the others of your kind, so you might be a better challenge!"
Zorian's lips pinched. "Fine, you want to fight me?" He stepped forward. Of all the things he had been dragged into by Zach, he couldn't say fighting small avians in one on one combat was one of them. Here's to new experiences, he guessed.
"What? No. I want to fight your team."
Zorian blinked. "What team?"
"Idiot," the female jeered. "He doesn't have the red shiny orbs, he doesn't have a team!"
"But all humans have teams!"
"Well I don't." Zorian said, and before the restless flock to jump to a new topic, he asked, "you have seen other humans?"
"Duh!" the female again. "They live in the city over that way!" The words rang in his head. Because psychically… psychically he could feel what they meant. And the city over that way? It was in the opposite. Fucking. Direction. Of where Roserade had directed him.
"That way." He echoed.
"Yep!" An image slipped into his head, gossamer and faint, of a city with modern rooftops and maintained roads. "We visit sometimes. Show that city flock who's the stuff."
"Thank you for the information. Just one more thing— how long does it take for an oran berry bush to grow?"
The starly scoffed. "I take it back, you really are dumb to not know that!" A muscle in Zorian's jaw twitched. "Three days!"
"Three days?" For an entire bush?!
"Yep!"
And then the world spun, and-
"GOOD MO-O-O-ORNING NEIGHBORS!!! MORNING, MORNING, MORNNNIIING!!!"
Zorian snapped awake from the hard, earth floor.
Oh fuck no, he thought.