I sit at the edge of my bed, and a cold breeze rolls in through the seams of the window. It even has the same draft my room does. I wrap myself in my blanket to protect myself from the wind, and hold my arms close to my body.

  The woman beside me just watches me, her eyes filled with curiosity. I know I should be on edge, but I can't help but feel at ease in her presence.

  "So," I began hesitantly, "why is it you’re watching me?"

  "Truth be told, I don't know. Ever since I found myself in this place, I have been watching your life unfold with great fascination. When I realized they were repeating, I was just as surprised as you were."

  "Really?"

  "Oh yes. I remember the memories you've long since forgotten too. I have none of my own, so this has become something of a hobby." With another graceful snap of her fingers, a book materializes before us. I can sense the traces of mana lingering in the air; she had used temporal magic.

  Power required for teleporting an object would ordinarily require much preparation and an immense amount of mana, yet she performed it effortlessly. There was no chant, no muttering of spells, just a simple snap of her finger. It’s clear that she’s a master of magic far beyond any I have ever encountered.

  A shiver of fear runs down my spine as I see the book's contents. Within its pages are images of me, captured throughout my many lives. A photo of me eating strawberry shortcake with Elias is the first I see. Then I’m holding my first born child. In another I’m playing cards with the Guthry’s, a family who had taken me in after my own family had died.

  At times it’s a mundane, still image, but in others I’m fighting. Rescuing those I loved and hated, using people, saving people, and meeting numerous gruesome ends. There’s even a photograph of me sleeping. My mind races, alarms bells going off.

  This woman’s a stalker.

  She let out a melodic laugh before speaking. "I might very well be a stalker!" she admits, a small grin spreading across her face. This only caused my wariness to grow, not only because she confessed to such behavior, but because I hadn’t voiced that thought aloud.

  "You can…read minds?" I ask nervously, gripping the edge of my bed sheets tightly. She nods, her gaze never leaving mine.

  "Indeed, I can. But fear not, Clara. My interest in you stems solely from your use of magic. In all my observations of this world, no one has relied on magic as much as you have throughout your hundred lives."

  I furrow my brow, still unable to shake off the unnerving sensation her admission brought. "Well, of course I rely on it. It's what I'm best with," I say defensively.

  "Ah, and it's something I excel with too! We have much in common, you see." But despite her reassurances, I can’t help but feel myself shrinking under the weight of her gaze. The lingering unease that came from knowing she had watched me for so long is… overpowering.

  "Why did you wait so long to help me if you've been watching my lives since the beginning?"

  "Well, I initially wanted to, although I could never find just when it was you were being spirited away to after you were stolen from Death. Space is fine, space is easy to understand." As she holds a finger up, the space around it begins to warp, appearing as if reality itself were avoiding her touch. "Time is another topic entirely though. The best I could do was follow you."

  "That doesn't make any sense. How could you follow me if you didn't know where I was?"

  "I said I didn't know when you were, although I did know where. So I waited," she corrected me, her eyes filled with determination. "Sometimes years, centuries even. But I waited just out of sight for you to come to that room, and I followed you. Every time you met your end, I waited for you to find your way to your next life."

  A shiver runs down my spine as I consider the depth of this stranger's dedication. Why would anyone care so much about me as to follow me across multiple lives? And just who was she to be capable of such things? She claims to only care about my magic, but that book says otherwise.

  "Then why am I here now?" I press on, trying to make sense of it all. "You took Ethel’s soul before it reached Death, and gave her that stone to give to me. Why?" I place a hand over my stomach, remembering the stone that I had incidentally swallowed. When I look back up, she holds the very same stone between her fingers.

  "This one?" she asks, her voice tinged with amusement. "I needed a way to contact you again. The one you call Ethel had a contract with me. Once upon a time, I helped her to cheat her God, and in exchange she owed me a single favor. I've always been able to find the one you call Death, you see. It's easy to enter the Eternal Dream, although... it's not so easy to avoid that one's sight. This is why Ethel delivered this in my stead." She lets out a soft chuckle, and tosses the soulgem into the air before catching it in her palm.

  "Where did you even get that?" I ask, leaning in close to look at it once again. "I've seen countless soulgems, but never one quite like this. Not one of such… quality."

  "Ah, that I cannot say. It has been with me for as long as I can remember, and now... it is with you." With this, she presses the stone into the palm of my hand.

  I frown, feeling the weight of the gem. "But I can't do anything with this. Deciphering a soulgem of this quality could take centuries, millennia even."

  Her expression mirrors my own disappointment, but her eyes light up. "What if I were to decipher these soulgems for you from now on? It would give you an excuse to visit me more often!" She beams at me, hoping to win me over with her enthusiasm.

  "That isn't possible, you can’t decipher a soulgem for someone. Even if it were possible, it would take you just as long-" My words catch in my throat as I watch the arcane aetherite splinter and crack beneath her touch. My gaze shoots downward, looking for the stone I had just been holding onto. I hadn’t even noticed her take it from me. Had she used magic again? I had no way of knowing. There was no residual mana this time, so what trick had she used?

  When I look up again, the soulgem is gone. In its place is a collection of cards, each adorned with intricate runes on their backs. The air around us burns a deep shade of blue. Raw mana. I found myself nearly pushed back by the sheer force that emanates from them. Breathing becomes a chore as I force myself to stand.

  To make raw mana appear so clearly took an immense quantity of it. For even the most skilled of spellcasters, such a feat was possible for mere moments before draining their reserves. So why was it that this woman was able to maintain such output through a few measly drawing cards?

  "Wh-What is?..." I choke, just barely managing to get two words out

  "I thought that these might be easier for you to digest than a soulgem. Go on, draw a card," she urges, her voice barely audible above the crackling energy that arcs through the air.

  Hesitating only for a moment, I extend a hand, but I’m unable to choose. As my hand struggles to draw near, I quickly come to the realization that the mana coming from each card is so immense that it doesn’t matter which one I choose.

  I fight against the waves of thick mana and grasp one, no longer questioning how or why to choose. As I turn the card to face me, I’m struck by an indescribable sensation of knowledge flooding my mind.

  Visions of a life that wasn’t my own flashes before me. An unknown spell was crafted, and I learn all of its uses both in combat and outside of it. Every instance the spell had ever been used, every lecture given on its properties, and every time it was passed down from teacher to student. The weight of this knowledge threatens to erase me, I cling desperately to the fringes of consciousness, but I feel myself slipping.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  "I can’t..." I clutch my head, trying to ease the incessant pounding of blood in my ears. It feels as if my skull is going to burst if I take anymore information in.

  "Talia, I’d like to introduce you to the ECA’s top agent, our self proclaimed ‘necromancer’, Clara Crowsong."

  A man’s voice?... ECA?

  "...just keep your maw shut and we’ll get along just fine. Understood, mutt?"

  I hear my own voice this time.

  "She won't let me die until I eat five more sins. I think...she's going to keep bringing me back."

  Who is that? Her voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. I look back and see a set of prison bars. Everywhere I look there’s inmates watching me. An automated voice can be heard blaring over the speakers, but I can’t make out any of the words. The water is already up to my neck, and more is pouring into the penitentiary by the second. I try to find higher ground, but I trip, and find myself submerged under the water. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get up.

  "No need to fear, there’s power in memories. Go on and head back to that stalker of yours now."

  I try to speak, but I can’t. The sound of metal warping and caving in on itself is all that can be heard. The water pressure is too much, and the penitentiary walls bend and warp in on themselves. Monitors and screens crack and fizzle out. The electricity doesn’t reach me due to the vast amount of water that it’s spread out in, and I drown, and everything goes dark.

  [You've acquired an immense understanding of Aetheric Needles]

  My eyes flutter open, and I feel the need to cough water up, but when I try, nothing happens. At my bedside is the woman who gave me that cursed card.

  "Good morning, Clara."

  "Uh...good morning?"

  She snaps, and a small cup appears in her hand. One of the many tassels that hang from her dress rises all on its own, as if it were alive, and water pours from the end of it. A tassel from the opposite arm follows suit, heating the bottom of the cup. Each tassel bears a metallic emblem. A water droplet adorns the first, while a crude inscription of a flame marks the second.

  Under ordinary circumstances, you possess innate magic which you’re born with. Others could be learned of course, but the further you got away from your innate magic, the harder it was to control. Many spells can be used in tandem with each other but using opposite elements at the same time is nearly impossible. Yet I’m watching it, and she makes it look easy.

  "What's so surprising? You’re capable of multicasting too," she responds, apparently having heard my thoughts again.

  "Not like that…"

  I watch on as the two tassels dance in unison, creating the perfect cup of tea.

  The dark liquid inside the cup shimmers with steam, its aroma wafting up and filling my nostrils with a familiar scent that brings comfort.

  "Here you go," the woman says, handing me the cup. "It’s just like your father used to make when you were little."

  I accept it cautiously, cradling it between my palms as I take a slow, tentative sip. The warm liquid slides down my throat, washing away that feeling that came from drowning.

  "It’s true… It tastes just like his."

  "Feeling better?"

  "I…think I had a nightmare. I’m seeing people and things I shouldn’t be seeing."

  "Sometimes when you encounter a powerful spell, it can bring about strange memories. It’s likely just a side effect, nothing to worry about, dear. More than that, does anything feel different about your body?"

  Now that she mentioned it, something did feel different. My mana-core feels normal in my chest. Mana isn’t leaking out at the seams. I hold a hand to my chest, and as far as I can tell, it’s been seemingly fixed.

  "I got it all patched up for you while you were resting. Of course, your mana-core’s still more brittle than it would normally be, but that just can’t be helped. With time, it will grow strong again. Try not to exert yourself."

  I knew it wasn’t worth asking just how she had fixed my mana-core. It likely wasn’t something that I could understand as I was now. But I do have one question I can’t help but ask.

  "What about the other spells? Or… cards I mean."

  In response, a handful of cards appear from thin air, fanning across her long, slender fingers. "These? They'll be mine," she declares with a knowing smile, before flicking her wrist and sending the cards spiraling into nothingness. The only sign they were ever truly there is the dissipating golden light they leave behind.

  My features scrunch as I watch the cards disappear. I really wanted to learn them too… Sensing my disappointment, I’m met with reassurance, "Don't be upset, Clara. Why don't you try using your new spell? That should cheer you up!"

  "You don’t need to talk to me like I’m a child. I'm not upset."

  Seeing that I’m content, the woman makes her way to the door of my room, opening it wide and gesturing for me to follow. What lay before is a pitch black void.

  "I thought you said that time didn't pass here. Why do you want me to leave now?"

  "Though time may move differently here, deciphering a soulgem in such a brief span can be quite draining, even for the likes of me," she explains, her expression softening. "How am I to rest when I have a guest over?"

  I understand her reasoning, and take a short step forward before stopping. "What do I call you?" I ask, turning back to face her. "For the next time I get a soulgem, I mean."

  She seems to ponder this question just for the briefest of moments before her lips curl into a smile. Not one of the many she’d given tonight, but one that shows genuine excitement. Joy even. "Oh! I think I remembered something while transcribing that soulgem for you. My name is-"

  Before she can finish, the world around us begins to tremble violently. I lose my footing, falling through the open door and into the abyss below. As I plummet through the darkness, the room I was in just a moment ago begins to shrink. The woman stands in the doorway, her voice echoing through the void, "My name is Aetheria!"

  My heart thumps in my chest, and I open my eyes to see Clarence gripping my shoulders.

  "Clara! Clara!"

  My world is still shaking, and I cling to his arms, trying to anchor myself back into reality. The memory of Aetheria's voice still ringing true in my ears.

  "Wha- How long was I out?"

  "Asleep? You swallowed that weird rock and just stopped moving for a few seconds. I got worried!"

  I rise to my feet, and I sense an unfamiliar power coursing through my veins. My body seems to be filled to the brink with mana.

  "Clara... I'm sorry about earlier," he says, his voice much lower than usual. "I didn't know just how much you'd been through."

  "No, it’s okay. I’m sorry too," I say, managing a faint smile. "I saw your little brother when I reached my First Requiem…"

  "Marcus was killed?..."

  "He was pretty accepting of his fate. More than anything though, he was excited to see your guy's parents again. But…I did give him my word that I wouldn’t hit you anymore."

  "He’s with our parents, that’s a good thing. That’s a good place to be," Clarence says, but I can tell he’s fighting the urge to cry now.

  "C’mon, we need to get Elias to a healer."

  "Right," Clarence agrees, his determination returning. He rummages through the books we had collected earlier, producing a worn map with trembling hands. Huddled together, we trace our fingers along faded lines, searching for the nearest town.

  "Seraphine's Rest," I mutter, my finger hovering over a small dot on the map. "It's south of here, not too far from our current location. That might be our best bet."

  "Then let's get going," Clarence declares, rolling up the map and tucking it under his arm.

  I instruct Terra to carry Elias, who is still unconscious.

  My mind wanders back to those memories that aren’t my own. Landscapes that I had never seen, voices I had never heard, a woman who reeked like a wet dog, and Aetheria, who can give out spells in the form of cards. The inventor of this…

  I hold out a finger, and a small, crystalline blue needle appears before me. My very own Aetheric Needle. It’s difficult at first, but in a way, it feels like second nature to cast this spell without a word of power.

  Bell in a bar, Talia in a penitentiary, and Aetheria in my family home. The more I think back on it, the more confused I become.

  "Clara," Clarence calls out, breaking me free from my thoughts. "You ready?"

  "Yes," I reply, the needle dissipating into nothingness. "I'm ready."

  The four of us set out for Seraphine’s Rest.