Seralith looked at Evan blankly for a moment before he muttered “Never mind”

  Evan barely had time to process what Seralith had just told him—or the bizarre new abilities he’d unlocked—before he heard the sound of frantic footsteps pounding against the hard-packed trail. His head snapped up, and there she was: a young woman sprinting around the bend in the trail, her silver hair streaked with blood, her torn clothing caked in mud. She was breathtakingly beautiful, almost ethereal, though her beauty was marred by the obvious signs of her ordeal. Her wide, violet eyes darted around in terror, and her gasping breaths sounded ragged and desperate.

  Evan’s heart lurched. This had to be Lyrin.

  Before he could call out to her, another figure rounded the corner, hot on her heels. The man was massive, clad in dark studded armor that looked like something straight out of a medieval fantasy movie. His face was a mask of cruel determination, and in his hand was a plain cross-hilted sword that gleamed menacingly in the fading light.

  Evan’s grip tightened around his knife as he stepped into their path, his body moving without hesitation. “Hey!” he barked, his voice sharper and louder than he’d expected. “Back off. Now.”

  The armored man halted, his sharp gaze flicking to Evan with mild curiosity, as though assessing a minor nuisance. He smirked, the expression cocky and dismissive. “And who are you supposed to be?” the man drawled, his voice dripping with contempt. “You think that little blade is going to stop me?”

  Evan’s mind raced. He wasn’t a soldier, wasn’t a fighter. But in the back of his mind, he felt Alara’s presence—steady, confident, like a coiled spring ready to act. Her voice echoed faintly in his thoughts. Close the gap. Don’t let him use the reach of that sword to control the fight.

  Evan took a step forward, reversing the knife in his hand and adopting a defensive stance, right foot forward. “I’m the guy who’s going to stop you,” he said, his voice cold and steady, surprising even himself.

  The man’s smirk widened as he advanced, his sword raised to threaten forwards. “Big talk for someone who’s already dead.” He surged forward, closing the distance in an instant and thrusting the point at Evan.

  But Evan slipped his right foot back as he deflected the blade with his knife, the clang of metal-on-metal ringing out in the quiet forest. At the same time, he grasped the man's sword hand in his left, controlling the weapon. The maneuver was instinctive, fluid, and brutally effective—Alara’s instincts guiding him like a second nature.

  The man grunted in surprise as Evan’s knife found its mark, plunging into his throat. Blood sprayed, hot and sticky, as the man staggered back, his hands clawing at the wound. Evan stepped away, his breath coming in short bursts, his knife still clenched tightly in his hand.

  The man collapsed to the ground with a wet thud, his sword falling uselessly beside him. Evan stared at the body for a moment, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had just killed someone. The thought hit him like a freight train, but there was no time to dwell on it.

  A soft, shaky gasp pulled his attention back to Lyrin. She had stumbled to a stop a few feet away, her hands trembling as she stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. She looked ready to bolt, her entire body tense with fear.

  “Hey, hey,” Evan said quickly, holding up his empty hand in what he hoped was a calming gesture. He took a step toward her, his voice softening. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m on your side.”

  She flinched, her gaze darting to the blood on his knife, then back to his face. Her breaths were shallow and rapid, her entire frame trembling like a leaf. “You—you killed him,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

  “I had to,” Evan said gently. “He was going to hurt you. I’m here to help. Seralith sent me.”

  At the mention of Seralith, Lyrin’s expression shifted slightly. The fear didn’t leave her eyes, but it was joined by a flicker of recognition. “Seralith?” she repeated, her voice unsteady.

  Evan turned to where Seralith had been standing earlier, intending to gesture toward her for confirmation—but she was gone. He blinked, his mouth opening to speak, but no words came out. Of course she wasn’t there. That would’ve been too easy.

  “She was here,” Evan said quickly, turning back to Lyrin. “She told me about you—about the portal. She asked me to help you get back.”

  Lyrin hesitated, her violet eyes searching his face. Finally, she gave a small, shaky nod. “The portal... it’s still open. I—I don’t know how long it’ll stay—”

  “Then let’s go,” Evan said, his voice firm but calm. “I’ll get you there. You’ll be safe.”

  Together, they made their way back down the trail, Lyrin leaning on him for support as her legs threatened to give out. “Where is this place?” She asked after a few moments. “I don't recognize the trees, your clothes are strange, and your eyes are hidden.” Evan realised he was still wearing his sunglasses, and reached up to take them off.

  He grinned at Lyrin. “Better now?”. Lyrin smiled back shyly “Much, thank you. But this place is…?” Evan nodded.

  “Seralith said you came from another world. This one is, imaginatively, called Earth. We’re on a hiking trail, which is why I’m dressed like this. And you’ll be able to see the city from the lookout just around the corner”. They passed the next few moments in silence before Lyrin gasped “Sera save us…is that your city?” She looked across the gap in the trees, the city spanning the whole arc with the central city near the middle. Evan glanced at her awestruck face. And all he could say was “Yup”.

  “How…how many people live here?”

  “I’m not sure exactly. A little over half a million I guess?”

  “Half a - what? Half a million? Loria itself is barely more than twice that!”

  “Is that your capital city?”

  “No! That’s the whole country! Aurensvale is barely fifteen thousand. Your capital is enormous.”

  “Oh. Well, this isn’t the capital.” Evan paused awkwardly. “That would be Washington DC. It’s about the same size, I think. But there are several much larger cities.” The pair moved on, Lyrin mute with wonder as she kept glancing through the trees towards the city.

  When they reached the portal—a shimmering, swirling tear in the air—Seralith was waiting, her serene presence radiating calm. Lyrin immediately dropped to her knees, her head bowed in reverence. “My Lady Seralith, please accept my most humble thanks and devoted service.”

  “Priestess,” Seralith said, her voice warm but commanding, “you have done well. Rest now. You are safe.” Her hand raised over Lyrins head, and a golden glow washed over her. Her hair untangled, the rents in her clothes disappeared, and blood was washed away. Lyrin sagged in relief.

  Evan cleared his throat. “So, uh... what now?”

  Seralith turned to him, her golden eyes meeting his. “The attackers are still on the other side, waiting. Lyrin cannot pass through alone. I need you to escort her.”

  Evan’s brows lifted. “Me? Through that?” He gestured at the portal. “I’m not exactly equipped for a fight.”

  “You have Alara,” Seralith said simply. “And you have proven yourself capable.” She paused, her gaze softening slightly. “I will reward you for your service. A gold bar for your troubles. And you will keep Alara’s Eidolon—she is now bound to you.”

  Evan hesitated, his mind racing. Then he glanced at Lyrin, who looked so small and fragile, and he sighed. “Alright,” he said, drawing the sword he’d taken from the man he'd killed. “Let’s do this.”

  Without another word, he stepped toward the portal, the swirling energy reflecting in his determined eyes.

  The portal was like stepping into a kaleidoscope that had been spun too fast. Colors swirled and twisted, light bending and refracting as everything seemed to pull away and rush forward all at once. Evan’s stomach flipped, his footing faltered, and for a moment, he wasn’t entirely sure which way was up. He stumbled as he emerged on the other side, blinking hard to refocus his vision. The air here was different—thicker, heavier, and buzzing faintly, like it was charged with static. The forest was darker, the trees taller and gnarled, their twisted branches blotting out most of the light. It was unsettling, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it.

  The crude laughter of two men reached his ears, their voices carrying through the eerie stillness. Evan crouched low, gripping the sword lightly. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to use it again—his hand still felt unfamiliar on the hilt—but he didn’t have much of a choice. He glanced back at Lyrin, who was still trembling but determined to stay close. Her violet eyes were wide, darting nervously between him and the shadows of the forest. He gave her a quick nod, silently promising to keep her safe.

  The men weren’t far—a pair of thugs in mismatched clothing, leaning against a moss-covered rock. One was sharpening his blade lazily, while the other gestured animatedly, clearly in the middle of telling a joke. Evan couldn’t make out the details, but the tone was crude enough to guess the subject matter. They hadn’t noticed him yet, which was both a blessing and a ticking clock.

  He crept forward as quietly as possible, his breath steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him. Alara’s voice echoed faintly in his mind, calm and focused. Pick the one on the left first. He’s distracted. Quick and quiet. Then deal with the other.

  Evan’s grip tightened on the sword. He wasn’t sure he could do "quick and quiet," but he’d give it his best shot. He lunged forward, thrusting the blade in a short arc that caught the first man completely off guard. The sword plunged deep into his side, the thug’s eyes going wide as he crumpled to the ground with a gurgling cry. The second man barely had time to react before Evan turned on him, but this one wasn’t as easily caught off guard. He raised his weapon—a heavy axe—and blocked Evan’s initial strike with a resounding clang.

  “Well, well,” the man sneered, stepping back to size Evan up. “Looks like we’ve got a hero here. You’re gonna regret that, boy.”

  Evan didn’t respond. He couldn’t afford to waste breath on banter. The man swung his axe, and Evan sidestepped, his body moving instinctively with Alara’s guidance and countered with a quick slash accompanying the step, but the man blocked it with the haft of his weapon, pushing Evan back with surprising strength. The fight quickly turned into a brutal exchange of blows, each of them circling the other, testing for openings. Evan’s movements were fluid, precise, but his opponent was relentless, forcing him to stay on the defensive.

  A sharp pain flared in Evan’s shoulder as the axe grazed him, tearing through his shirt and leaving a shallow but painful wound. He gritted his teeth, refusing to let it slow him down. His opponent, sensing Evan's momentary distraction, raised his axe high and stepped in firearms string blow. ButvEvan took advantage of this mistake to pass forward and thrust strongly by gripping the pommel of his sword. The blade found its mark, crunching wetly into and through the mans face. The thug’s eyes widened in shock, and he staggered back, clutching at the wound before collapsing in a heap.

  Evan stood there for a moment, breathing hard, the sword shaking slightly in his hand. His shoulder throbbed, and he could feel warm blood trickling down his arm, but he was alive. More importantly, Lyrin was safe.

  “Evan!” Lyrin’s voice was soft but urgent as she rushed to his side, her hands hovering uncertainly over his wound. “You’re hurt. Let me—please, let me help.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  Before he could respond, her hands began to glow with a soft, golden light. The warmth spread through his shoulder, soothing the pain and knitting the torn skin back together. Evan stared at her, his breath catching slightly at the sight of her focused expression, the way her hair framed her face as she worked. She was beautiful, even more so now that the fear had begun to fade from her eyes.

  “Thanks,” he said quietly when she finished, rolling his shoulder to test it. The pain was gone, leaving only a faint ache. “That’s... incredible.”

  Lyrin looked up at him, her cheeks flushed. “I—thank you. For saving me. I thought...” Her voice faltered, and she glanced away, her hands trembling slightly. “I thought you were one of them at first. And then... the way you fought... it was...”

  “Necessary,” Evan finished for her, his voice gentle. “I didn’t have a choice. But I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe.”

  A soft rustling drew their attention, and Seralith appeared, stepping gracefully into the clearing as though she had been there the entire time. Her golden eyes swept over the scene, her expression calm but approving.

  “You have done well, Evan,” she said, her voice warm. She raised her hand, and with a faint shimmer, a gold bar materialized, gleaming brightly in the dim light. She held it out to him. “As promised, your reward.”

  Evan looked at the gold, then shook his head. “Keep it,” he said, surprising even himself. “I don’t need gold. What I need is an empty Eidolon Circuit.”

  Seralith tilted her head, intrigued. “An Eidolon Circuit?”

  “Yeah,” Evan said, his voice steady despite the weight of his words. “If people—important people—can be put into them, and they work on Earth... I could save my father.” He paused, his gaze meeting hers. “Can you give me one?”

  Seralith’s eyes softened, and for a moment, she looked genuinely sympathetic. “I understand your desire, Evan. But Eidolon Circuits are far more complex than gold. I do not know how to craft them myself, and they are worth far more than what you have done for me so far. It would not be a fair trade.”

  Evan frowned, his mind racing. “Then let me work for you. One gold bar per job. It shouldn’t take too long.”

  Seralith’s lips curved into a faint, amused smile. “You are bold, Evan Carter. And capable. Very well. You shall have your opportunity. Lyrin seems to like you, and she can open portals to Earth now that she has a connection to you.”

  Lyrin’s face turned bright red, her hands flying to her cheeks. “I—what? I—he—”

  Evan smirked, glancing at her. “Guess that’s a yes.”

  Lyrin buried her face in her hands, mumbling something incoherent, while Seralith chuckled softly before speaking again thoughtfully. “Well this is new. No-one has asked to simply be….employed…by a God before. There appear to be benefits to a purely mercenary arrangement. If you had sworn yourself to my service, I would be forbidden from becoming involved. But without a connection of faith, while I cannot grant you power, I can aid you more directly. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement. And in the spirit of that, I shall continue to pay you, only less than a gold bar. Once you have done, say 10 tasks for me, then I will have Lyrin arrange an Eidolon Circuit for you.”

  Evan nodded, “Agreed”, and stuck his hand out towards Seralith, who looked at it in amusement. “Oh yes, of course” she murmured before placing her hand in his. Evan felt a both a softness and a strength on her hand, as well as a slight persistent tingle that crept up his arm as he shook hers firmly. Evan couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he was moving forward—like he had a purpose. And he wasn’t going to waste it.

  ‐—------

  The forest had grown quiet in the wake of the earlier violence. The oppressive tension in the air had lifted, leaving only the rustling of leaves and the occasional distant hoot of an owl. Seralith had vanished once again, her parting words clear: “Wait here and protect Lyrin. Her guards will arrive soon—less than an hour.”

  Evan stood near the tree line, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. The sword he’d taken from the dead thug rested within arm’s reach, but for the time being, the forest seemed calm. His gaze flicked to Lyrin, who was sitting on a fallen log nearby, looking both exhausted and nervous. Her hands were clasped tightly together, and her silver hair caught the faint light filtering through the trees, giving her an almost ethereal glow.

  He sighed, rolling his shoulders to shake off the lingering tension. “Alright, let’s get a fire going,” he said, crouching down to collect some dry twigs and kindling. His knife and striker came out next, and he began methodically scraping sparks toward the small pile of wood.

  Lyrin leaned forward slightly, her violet eyes wide with curiosity. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice soft but tinged with wonder.

  Evan glanced up at her, surprised. “Starting a fire. You’ve never seen this?” He struck the steel against the flint again, and a spark caught, the kindling beginning to smolder.

  She shook her head, her expression fascinated. “No. We use magic for such things. But this... it’s clever. You carry these tools with you?” She pointed at the knife and striker.

  “Yeah,” Evan said with a small smile. “They’re just simple tools. Nothing fancy, but they get the job done. Magic’s not exactly an option where I come from.”

  Lyrin tilted her head, watching as the small flame grew under his careful attention. “It seems so... practical. I can see why Seralith chose you.”

  Evan chuckled softly, adding a larger stick to the fire. “I’m not sure practicality was her criteria. I think I was just in the wrong place at the right time.”

  The fire crackled to life, casting warm light over the clearing. Evan sat back, resting his arms on his knees, and gestured for Lyrin to sit closer. She hesitated for a moment before moving to the edge of the log, her hands resting delicately on her lap. The firelight danced across her features, illuminating the her violet eyes and flawless skin.

  “So,” Evan said, breaking the silence, “you want to tell me how you ended up in my neck of the woods? Seralith said something about a portal.”

  Lyrin sighed, her expression falling slightly. “I was traveling between cities, bringing healing to those afflicted by a sickness spreading through the region. Vareth’s forces have been growing bolder, and the people are suffering because of it. My caravan was ambushed on the road. They must have been waiting for us.”

  Her voice faltered, and she looked down at her hands. “I was separated from my guards. I ran into the forest, hoping to lose them, but they were relentless. I panicked. I tried to open a portal to safety—somewhere they couldn’t follow. Somehow...” She glanced at him, her eyes searching his face. “Somehow my magic chose you. It opened a portal to your world.”

  Evan frowned, leaning back slightly. “You’re saying that out of all the places you could’ve ended up... I was the safe place?”

  “Yes,” Lyrin said softly. “I don’t know why. Perhaps Seralith’s influence guided me. Or perhaps...” She trailed off, shaking her head as though the thought was too strange to finish.

  “Perhaps what?” Evan pressed, curious.

  “Perhaps you are a protector by nature,” she said simply, her gaze steady now. “You risked your life to save me, even though you didn’t know me. Even though you had no reason to.”

  Evan blinked, caught off guard by her words. He wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he shifted the conversation instead. “You mentioned Vareth. What’s his deal?”

  Lyrin’s expression darkened. “Vareth is Seralith’s opposite in every way. He sees her kindness and compassion as weakness. He believes only in power, in domination. His followers spread suffering wherever they go, and he delights in it. Opposing him is... dangerous.”

  Evan nodded slowly, his mind turning over her words. Her loyalty to Seralith was obvious—her resolve to help others, even at great personal risk, was just as clear. He couldn’t help but compare her to Sarah, his ex-wife. Where Sarah had been calculating and self-serving, Lyrin was selfless and kind. It was an unfair comparison, perhaps, but the contrast was stark nonetheless.

  He cleared his throat. “Lyrin, your healing magic... could it help someone who’s sick? Really sick?”

  She tilted her head, curious. “It depends on the sickness. Why?”

  Evan hesitated, then sighed. “My dad. He has cancer. It’s... it’s a disease that eats away at you. There’s treatment, but it’s brutal, and it doesn’t always work. He’s decided to stop fighting it. Said he’s ready to go on his own terms.”

  Lyrin’s expression softened. “I don’t know this ‘cancer,’ but I understand the pain of watching someone you love suffer. Your father sounds like a strong man.”

  “He is,” Evan said quietly. “But it’s hard to accept. I’d give anything to save him.”

  Lyrin reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing his arm. “You’ve already done so much for me. I wish I could help you in return.”

  Evan looked at her, her violet eyes shimmering in the firelight. “You’ve done enough,” he said, his voice low. “You’re alive. That’s enough.”

  She smiled faintly, her cheeks tinged with a soft pink. “Thank you, Evan. For rescuing me. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there.”

  He shrugged, his lips curving into a small smile. “Like you said, I guess I’m a protector by nature.”

  Lyrin ducked her head, her hair falling forward to hide her face, but not before he caught the shy smile tugging at her lips. The fire crackled between them, its warmth a quiet reminder of the connection that was beginning to form—a connection neither of them fully understood yet, but neither could deny.

  —----

  The distant sound of hooves and the clinking of armor reached them before the guards themselves appeared. Lyrin’s ears perked up, her expression shifting from tired relief to nervous anticipation. Evan stood as the firelight flickered in the growing dusk, instinctively moving closer to her, his hand resting on the hilt of the sword he’d taken. The sense of duty that had settled into his chest since meeting her was still there, burning quietly.

  A group of four figures emerged from the shadows, riding sturdy, dark-haired horses. They were clad in gleaming silver armor, each piece etched with intricate designs that caught the firelight. Their expressions were sharp and guarded as their eyes fell on Evan, standing protectively near Lyrin. The tallest of the group, a woman with short-cropped hair and a scar across her cheek, dismounted first, her hand resting casually on the pommel of her sword.

  “Priestess Lyrin,” the woman said, her voice clipped but laced with relief. “We’ve been searching for you. Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” Lyrin said quickly, stepping forward. “Thanks to him.” She gestured toward Evan, who shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the guards’ collective scrutiny. Their eyes narrowed as they sized him up, clearly not convinced.

  “And who is he?” the scarred woman asked, her gaze flicking to the sword at Evan’s side. “He looks like a scavenger who got lucky.”

  “Excuse me?” Evan said, raising an eyebrow. “I just saved her life, thank you very much.”

  The guards bristled slightly, but Lyrin stepped between them and Evan, raising her hands. “He’s telling the truth! He protected me from three of Vareth’s agents. He even fought them alone, at great risk to himself.”

  Her voice carried a note of rare urgency, and the guards exchanged glances. One of them, a younger man with a roguish grin, said, “The priestess singing someone’s praises? That’s a first.”

  “She’s never that quick to compliment us,” another added, smirking.

  Lyrin’s face flushed a deep shade of red, and she glanced down, her hands fidgeting. “I’m just stating the facts,” she mumbled, clearly flustered.

  Evan couldn’t help but grin, though he decided against making a teasing comment. He figured she’d endured enough embarrassment already.

  The scarred woman studied him for another moment before nodding, apparently satisfied. “Very well. If the priestess vouches for you, I won’t question it further. Thank you for your service.” Her tone was stiff, but there was a begrudging respect in her eyes.

  “Don’t mention it,” Evan said, though he didn’t miss the way the guards continued to watch him like a hawk.

  Lyrin turned to him, her expression softening. “I can open a portal to return you to your world. You’ve done so much already—I don’t want to keep you from your life.”

  “Yeah,” Evan said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should probably get back before someone decides to report me missing.”

  She nodded, stepping away from the fire. Her hands moved gracefully, tracing glowing runes in the air. The portal shimmered into existence, its swirling light casting strange shadows across the clearing. Evan took a step toward it but hesitated, glancing back at her.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice softer now. “Take care of yourself, okay? No more running into forests alone.”

  Her lips curved into a shy smile, and she nodded. “I’ll try.”

  Then, to his complete surprise, she stepped closer and leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. The warmth of her lips lingered even after she pulled away, her cheeks as red as the embers of the fire. “Thank you, Evan. For everything.”

  Evan blinked, stunned for a moment, before managing a lopsided grin. “Anytime.”

  With one last look at her, he stepped through the portal. The disorienting swirl of light and color hit him again, but this time he was more prepared for the sensation. When he emerged on the other side, he was back in the familiar forest of Earth. The air smelled of pine and damp earth, and the trail stretched out before him, bathed in the dim light of evening.

  He exhaled slowly, adjusting the strap on his hiking pack, and began walking back down the trail. The events of the day played over and over in his mind as he made his way to the parking lot, his footsteps crunching against the gravel. By the time he reached his car, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving him bone-tired but strangely at peace.

  The drive home was quiet, the hum of the engine and the familiar sights of the city grounding him. When he finally stepped through his front door, he dropped his pack and sword by the entryway, kicking off his boots. His mind was still racing, but his body was screaming for rest.

  A hot shower helped ease some of the tension in his muscles, though it did little to quiet his thoughts. As he stood under the spray, he couldn’t stop thinking about Lyrin—her wide violet eyes, her quiet strength, the way she’d kissed his cheek. And then there was Seralith, her offer, her enigmatic presence. What had he gotten himself into? And what did it mean for his life going forward?

  By the time he collapsed into bed, his body was heavy with exhaustion, but his mind was still working through everything that had happened. He thought about his father, about the possibility of saving him with an Eidolon Circuit. He thought about Lyrin, her kindness and courage, and how different she was from anyone he’d ever met. And, finally, he thought about Jason—his son, his anchor. As well as the playground, they were supposed to go hiking this weekend. Would he be able to look at the trails the same way now?

  His last thought before sleep claimed him was a simple one: I hope Jason likes stories about portals and seword fights.