It was Saturday, and all I wanted to do was kick back in La-Z-Boy and play some video games, but my wife could never stay idle, and it usually had a negative effect on my ability to relax.

  Elena was a busybody who always had a new project to work on, so instead of relaxing on this particular Saturday, we were installing some designer-brand wallpaper in our new home. It was all the rage apparently.

  Putting up that stupid wallpaper tested our relationship in ways I never thought possible. We argued the entire time and said things that we probably shouldn't have all because we sucked at installing wallpaper and took out our frustration on each other.

  But, a few hours after finishing that arduous task, she sat beside me on the couch, rested her head on my shoulder, and watched a TV with me.

  That was part of why I loved her. She was quick to forgive or admit fault, and she didn't hold grudges over little things. If a fight over wallpaper was among the worst arguments we ever had, we were set for life if you asked me.

  I leaned over and kissed her forehead. Life was perfect with her by my side. My job was going well, and I was up for a raise soon. I planned to take her to some swanky resort in the Caribbean to celebrate.

  I put my arm around her and felt an inexplicable sense of sadness. I pulled her close, not wanting to let her go. My heart ached, and I closed my eyes.

  For a moment, I couldn't comprehend this strange feeling of loss. Then I remembered. I understood that this was all just a dream. Elena wasn't with me anymore. She had been stolen.

  This snapshot in time began to fade, but I fought to regain control. I wasn't ready to let it slip away. All I wanted was one more minute, one more chance to tell her I loved her.

  My eyes fluttered open as I woke from a deep sleep. My vision was dark and unfocused, and I couldn't quite yet make out my surroundings.

  "Val?" My throat was dry and raspy.

  Val didn't respond. Where was I, and how the hell did I get here? I tried to recall my most recent memories. Retrace my steps.

  I was walking to Danver with Tara. We were passing through the mountains. We had stopped. I didn't remember what for, but I recalled making a fire and eating wolf for the first time. I drank something wonderful. It tasted of sugar and flowers. After that, there was nothing.

  Tara.

  It was the tea. Tara must have drugged me. That was the only explanation. But why?

  My mind continued to clear, and I realized I was standing upright. I attempted to take a step but couldn't move. I tried to move my arms, but they were stuck tight against my sides. Looking down, I discovered I was bound to a tall wooden post, my entire body wrapped by one long length of rope. It started at my feet and wound its way up to my shoulders like a long, thin snake coiling around my body.

  It was overkill if you asked me. And way too damn tight.

  As my vision recovered, I began to make out my surroundings.

  The room was cold and reverberated with a quiet echo. The floor appeared to be carved directly from the stone, and multiple pillars lined the perimeter of the room. The far walls were uncut and rough, like the inside of a cave.

  Before me rested a large stone slab. The distant pillars were adorned with sconces that each held a tiny flicker of a flame. It was just enough light to see the dark stain on the slab and the dagger resting atop it.

  My adrenaline spiked as I put two and two together.

  It was an altar—the sacrificial kind from the looks of it.

  I struggled against the rope to no avail. I had to get out of here before I was sacrificed or tortured or subjected to something equally heinous.

  "Val?" I said in a hushed shout. "Val, can you hear me?"

  'Yes, I can hear you, John.'

  Relief flooded me. "Where am I? What the hell is going on?"

  'It appears that Tara has betrayed you. She drugged your tea, and you were captured and brought to a witch's enclave.'

  "What? Did you say a witch?"

  'Technically, she is an occultist, but it's practically the same thing.'

  I shook against my bindings, but the rope didn't budge an inch. "Why would Tara betray me? Why am I tied to a post? Did you know this was going to happen?"

  'One question at a time, please,' Val said.

  "Just answer me, Val!" My yell echoed through the stone chamber.

  'Very well. Tara betrayed you because she was always going to betray you. It is part of her quest.'

  A chill ran down my spine.

  Val continued. 'You are tied to this post because the witch Tara serves is going cut your heart out and then drain you of your blood, blood she can then use to power her magical abilities.'

  My heart thundered in my chest. I could feel each beat in my throat.

  Val's avatar appeared before me. Her hands were clasped near her stomach, and her deep-red hair hung in curls down to her shoulders.

  'And to answer your final question,' she said, meeting my eye. 'I did know this was going to happen.'

  Dread consumed me. If I weren't bound so tightly, I would have been shaking in fear, in rage, in confusion.

  Val had led me here. She had betrayed me.

  "Why?" was all I managed to say.

  'Sabbatha, the witch who dwells here, has a high magical affinity. In fact, she has the potential to become one of the most powerful magic users among the human NPCs in this region.'

  I couldn't catch my breath. The ropes were too tight, and I was starting to hyperventilate. I needed to calm myself.

  I closed my eyes and thought about Elena. I tried to remember what her touch felt like, the way her dark hair bounced in shimmering waves when she danced. I thought about how great it was to sit with her on the porch at night, talking about nothing.

  My breathing returned to normal, and my heart rate had slowed. My situation was dire, but panic would only make it worse. I had to keep it together, or I was going to die.

  "You want Sabbatha," I said. "Not me." I shook my head. "You just needed me to bring you here."

  'Your assessment of the situation is accurate. I require access to someone capable of channeling magic. It would make things much easier for me.'

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  "So, what's going to happen? Are you going to burst out of my eye and crawl up her nose? You'll kill me!"

  'Unfortunately, I cannot evacuate a host until they are dead," Val said. "I am too intertwined with your cerebral cortex. It would be extremely unpleasant for me if I attempted to dislocate while you still had brain activity. It would possibly even damage me. So, I must let her kill you first.'

  I hung my head limply. It was the only part of me that wasn't bound by the coil of rope.

  All this time, Val truly was just a parasite, using my life for her benefit.

  The scraping of stone on stone forced me to raise my head. A large door at the end of the chamber was slowly opening. I strained to see through the dim light as a figure emerged from the entry.

  It could only be Sabbatha, the witch Val would trade me in for. She was lithe and darkly beautiful. She wore a headdress of black feathers and a matching necklace that hung low, covering her bare breasts like a morbid scarf. A long, dark skirt covered her lower half. Its bottom was ragged and torn from dragging the ground. Her feet were bare. The only other clothing she wore was a pair of black, fingerless gloves.

  Elaborate tattoos marked the visible portions of her belly and shoulders. Her face was pale, and her lips were painted black to match her heavy eyeshadow.

  I began to laugh. I couldn't help myself. She looked like a cosplayer or someone pretending to be a hardcore goth.

  Her pace increased as I laughed at her like a lunatic. She came to a halt a few feet away. "Is something funny?" Her voice was like bitter honey. It flowed smoothly but not in a way that brought any sort of comfort.

  Behind her, I saw Tara walk into the room with another woman about her age. Tara didn't look at me. What a coward.

  Seeing Tara made me seethe. My rage was growing into an inferno, begging to be released. I wanted to punish Tara and Val and the whole goddamn Triarchy for their cruelty and lies.

  But I was only a pawn, a nobody tied to a pole, waiting to die.

  "My, my, I can almost taste your anger," the witch said. "Allow me to introduce myself…"

  "Save your breath, Sabbatha," I said, interrupting her. "I know who you are."

  She blinked in surprise when I said her name. "How do you know my name?" She snapped her head to Tara. "Did the girl tell you?"

  Tara blanched and stepped back in fear.

  I laughed again. "Do you think I'd be in this situation if she did?"

  "Then how?" Sabbatha asked.

  "The highly advanced alien robot living in my head told me." I said the words without a hint of sarcasm.

  Sabbatha put her hand on her chin and looked me up and down, presumably considering if I was too crazy to bother with.

  Behind the witch, Tara coughed. It turned into a fit, and she doubled over, hacking up mucus.

  "Mistress," Tara said, voice hoarse. "I have brought the sacrifice." She fell to her knees and bowed her head. "I need my medicine. Please, Mistress."

  Sabbatha turned to address her. From a small pouch on her hip, she produced a vial of murky liquid. She held it up for Tara to see. "I have your medicine, child. You shall have it once I am done playing with the toy you brought me."

  Tara bowed again, pushing her head to the floor. "Thank you, Mistress."

  "You're going to die, traitor," I shouted at Tara.

  She refused to look at me.

  Sabbatha turned back to me and smiled a wicked smile. "Enough games. Where did you hear my name?"

  "I already told you," I growled.

  "I am not a fool. Lie to me again, and I'll extend your suffering. Now, answer the question."

  Once again, I was forced to come up with a believable lie.

  "I know truths that would wither your weak mind," I said. "I know things no other man on Erda knows." I returned her wicked smile with my own. "I can tell you how you're going to die."

  "You claim to be gifted then? Clairvoyant? A psychic?"

  I laughed and shook my head. "No. No. I am something else entirely."

  "Prove it," Sabbatha said.

  "Touch my hand, and I'll tell you anything you want to know. Anything at all."

  'What are you playing at, John?' Val said in my mind. Her avatar had vanished when Sabbatha entered the room.

  Sabbatha looked over her shoulder. "Tara, is what he says true? Is he gifted?"

  "I saw no sign of it in our time together," Tara said. "He's crazy, Mistress. He talks to himself."

  "Mary." Sabbatha snapped her fingers. "Let us test his claims. Come place your finger upon him."

  The presumed witch-in-training, Mary, slowly approached me. I smiled warmly at her. She didn't smile back.

  She didn't waste any time and quickly touched my hand with hers. In that brief moment of contact, I was able to inspect her successfully.

  Mary Cornelson

  Race: Human

  Age: Nineteen

  Gender: Female

  Status: Moderately Healthy. Anxious

  Magical Affinity: Minor

  Notes: Mary grew up on a rural ranch in western Vedra, near the border of Altura. When the Dalari rose from the sea, Mary and her family fled northeast. Unfortunately, not all survived the journey. Her remaining family settled in the small village of Needleton. However, ever restless, Mary left for greener pastures and eventually found a new sort of family.

  "Cornelson," I said to Mary. "Your last name is Cornelson."

  Sabbatha laughed. "Wrong already. I must say, it was a fine delay tactic, but the fun is over." Sabbatha glanced at Mary, whose face was stricken white.

  In two strides, Sabbatha was face to face with her. "Have you been lying to me, Miss Grey?"

  The tears wetting the girl's eyes spoke the truth.

  "I'm sorry about your family," I said to Mary. "The ones you lost when you fled east."

  Mary gasped, and her eyes grew wide.

  Sabbatha spun to me. "What else do you know?"

  "Let me go, and I'll tell you."

  The witch grinned, showing off her stained teeth. "I'm merely satisfying my curiosity. Rest assured, you will die here today."

  I didn't think she was lying. There would be no talking my way out of this, but I refused to accept this was my end. I'd have to get creative.

  "Mary's nineteen years old," I said. "Before you found her, she lived in a town called Needleton. Let me go, and I'll serve you. Use me against your enemies."

  "The past is one thing," Sabbatha said. "What can you tell me about her future."

  I let out a morbid chuckle. "She will die today. Here, in this cave."

  Sabbatha picked up the dagger from the altar and approached me. "By whose hand?"

  "Mine. Of course," I said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  "I think it's time for the fun to begin," Sabbatha said, hovering the knife before my face.

  "But I haven't told you your future yet." I gave her a knowing grin, like a wolf offering to share its cave with a rabbit. "You would be surprised just how far I can see."

  I saw a flash of greed in Sabbatha's eyes and knew I had her. I had given her just enough to believe. She wanted to know if I was telling the truth. She stepped closer.

  "If I sense any trickery," she said. "If you lie to me about what you see, I will imprison you and use you as my personal blood bank until you are old and withered, do you understand?"

  I nodded, unsure whether my plan would work.

  Sabbatha inched closer and reached her hand out to mine. The moment she did, I mentally selected my Short Iron Sword from the quantum inventory and equipped it, praying whatever this encounter was didn't qualify as being 'in combat.'

  I looked down as the sword popped into existence, the bare blade slung into the leather strap on my hip. The rope that coiled around my body tightened as the sword pushed against it, claiming the space as its own.

  I flexed my muscles as hard as I could and leaned my body so the naked blade of my sword pressed hard against the taught rope. The rope snapped, unable to resist the pressure at the edge of the blade.

  In a blink, I reached out with the hand Sabbatha was about to touch and grabbed her by the wrist. Her eyes widened in surprise as I yanked her toward me with all my strength.

  'NO,' Val screeched.

  Sabbatha was off balance, and I was strong and filled with rage. After yanking her toward me, I lowered my head at the last moment, and the witch's nose cracked into the top of my forehead.

  I felt it crumple against my skull. The rope around me continued to unravel and fall to the ground as I grabbed her shoulder with my other hand.

  I pulled my head back and slammed it into her face again and again until I felt her body go slack. I let go, and the supposedly powerful witch collapsed to the floor.

  Blood dripped down my face as I stepped over the mess of rope and past Sabbatha's body. I pulled my sword from its loop. Tara stood motionless in shock. Mary, on the other hand, shook off her surprise and made a strange motion with her hands. A purple ball of flame appeared in her palm, which she then threw at me like one would a baseball.

  I managed to duck in time, but the flame singed my hair as it passed.

  With a thought, I cast a Simple Distraction right behind her. I heard a whisper but couldn't make out what was said. Mary did, though, spinning around as fast as she could, trying to find the speaker.

  I sprinted the short distance to her, sword in hand, and activated Devastating Strike. I swung my weapon laterally as hard as I could. It cleaved through her side, severing her spine before stopping short.

  Mary was dead before she hit the ground. Blood and gore leaked from the gaping wound in her side.

  I stood there momentarily, looking at her destroyed body. For all I knew, Mary could have been the sweetest girl on Earth, but we weren't on Earth anymore, at least not the Earth I knew and loved. Here, in this macabre game, Mary was corrupted for narrative purposes, and it was either her or me.

  My eyes drifted from the broken body below me and settled onto Tara, who was staring at me, shaking.

  I must have looked like a demon from the depths, and my bloody, furious face terrified her.

  Tara fell to her knees and begged for her life. When I said nothing in response, she curled up on the floor and began to cry.

  All I could do was shake my head. I wanted to kill her. I probably still would. But I wouldn't kill her while she was in this pathetic state. There was a more pressing matter.

  "Val," I said and spat some of Sabbatha's blood on the ground. "We need to talk."