When the light faded, they were with the “witch man” under a tree.

Zu looked around in surprise. the town was far from sight, and they were on a grassy hill.

“Where are we?” Zu wondered aloud, while quickly pulling from his robes his beanie and putting it back on.

“Outside, obviously.” He replied with a gasp. Then his appearance flickered, and the illusion spell faded.

“Ah. Forgot these teleportation drains out my mana out of the illusion too.” Said the man flatly. He looked completely different, aside from his eyes. His gray hair fell down in slight curls on his shoulders, and he was wearing expensive-looking suit of dark crimson. He wore on top of it a turquoise cape, with leather gloves and boots.

“Just give me a moment to rest,” said the huffing fancy man to Kaybol, “and I’ll heal you right up.”

Kaybol just stared at the man for a moment in shock, before jumping to a stand.

“You!” the boy, still in his own disguise, exclaimed.

The man tilted his head in confusion. “I'm sorry, do I know you? Unlikely, since I am pretty new here.” He passed his hand through his messy hair.

Kaybol glared at him, bruised and still under the disguise. He shook his head in anger, and dispelled his own illusion. His dark hair returned to its bright orange and blue, and the exhausted man shot up in surprise too.

“YOU!!” he exclaimed in surprise. “How are you even alive? I was 50 back then!”

Zu's shifted his look between the two, confused.

“Uh, what?” he managed to say, but the two ignored him.

Kaybol glared at the man before crossing his arms and turning away.

“you're quite an idiot for a Half-Nyxian.” He pouted.

The man gasped. “How did you-“

He then froze, finally noticing the contract markings on Kaybol’s face and neck.

“…Right..” he said slowly. Before sighing again.

“Um, excuse me, sir-” Zu started anxiously.

“Lakniyam.” The man offered with a grin.

“Sir Lakniyam,” Zu continued carefully. “First, I guess I should say… thank you for saving us back there.”

“of course, young man.” Lakniyam answered easily, before hesitating for a moment. “… you are young, right?”

Zu nodded immediately. “I'm 16.”

Lakniyam smiled in response, and stretched as he continued to speak.

“I'm always glad to help, my boy. Even if I'm not too fond of your friend over there –” he glanced at the still pouting Kaybol, “-but I suppose long-living individuals like us should allow bygones to be bygones.”

“Well, that is the problem sir..” Zu continued, “I'm a little confused about,, how is that that you live so long?”

“that’s just how Nyxians live.” Kaybol interjected. “And he’s a Half-Nyxian.”

“Half… Nyxian?” Zu wondered, and the man chuckled. He looked his bags pockets for a moment, before pulling out a small book. He handed it to Zu.

“Here, I guess the first few chapters of my journal might explain it best.”

Zu took the journal from his hand, still a little weary.

He opened the first page, and started read as Kaybol stretched to try read as well.

My name is Henrold Quillenari, and I am the 173 member of his majesty’s Wizard Court. However, until discovered my potential for magic, I grew as an orphan. Raised by a simple Lumberjack and his wife who took me in. as my fellow wizards grew old and passed away, I have barely ever aged past my twenties.  I've researched the old tales, dove deep into numerous superstitions, to find the truth behind my origin. Eventually, I have found it. The fae, demons, monstrous forces the Central Human Empire, and secretly even within it - they not only were real, but more terrifying and complex than us humans could ever imagine. No... Not "Us", they.. for I was never a magically-talented human, but rather a half-breed of a human and "Nyxian".
Nyxian.. Is how the supernatural and unhuman call themselves.
And thus, I realized I no longer belong. I must now flee into the Nyxian territories of Vastoaria - and research my heritage. This is what this journal is for.
But my name can no longer be Henrold Quillenari, for he is human, and I am not.
My name is Lakniyam, and I must learn of this mysterious world.

Kaybol raised his head from the pages, and smiled sweetly.

“I'm surprised it took you this long to find out.” He taunted, and the wizard snorted in response. Zu ignored them and continued to flip through the pages, reviewing different entries between diagrams and practiced Nyxian:

It has been a month since I have changed the course of my destiny. As I try to find more Nyxians, I have been practicing their magic from whatever sources I could find. It allows me to cast with as much as a whisper, as well as reducing the length of incantations. I wonder if I could learn their language proper.

…

I have encountered group of bandits. they have underestimated my power, but my staff got broken. I will have to make do with what I have left.

…

I have tried to incorporate Nyxian words into an incantation. It was disastrous.

…

I have found a gateway. It is hidden from the sight of human, and even they could, a certain Mana Magyo amount is required to activate it. seems Nyxians are using these for fast travel. I woke up this morning in Vastoaria, but now it seems I am in Paiviaz.

Not all the pages were filled, of course. Zu opened the latest entry:

It seems I have been noticed. A pair of adventurers witnessed my usage of silent magic Magyo casting to stop a crashing wall. I will have to be more cautious, and keep an eye on them.

“You know, I might start to regret helping you two.” Lakniyam said with a smirk. “This Boom Powder is expensive to make.”

Zu raised his head from the journal, hearing the last bit.

“’Boom Powder’?” he asked in confusion, “don’t you mean gunpowder?”

He then fell quiet as he felt both Kaybol and Lakniyam looking at him.

“Gun powder?” Kaybol asked in even bigger confusion, “What’s a ‘gun’?”

Lakniyam looked lost in thoughts. The wizard gazed at Zu, stroking his chin slowly.

Maybe he used to have a beard. The involuntary thought popped up in Zu’s head.

Luckily, Lakniyam spoke again and disrupted that thought with another.

“Are you a CrossWorlder?” the wizard asked.

“a CrossWorlder… sir?” Zu asked, not sure what to think. Perhaps it means…

“It is a phenomenon happening across the world, although most prominent in Vastoaria.” Lakniyam elaborated.

“Do you mean,,, Isekaied people?” Zu asked hesitantly, the word appearing instantly in his mind.

To that, Lakniyam burst out laughing. “Ah, yes! Some CrossWorlders do refer to this phenomenon as such.”

“But as for your original question,” he continued, “gunpowder was never successfully replicated in this world. It was one of the tasks my…” he coughed delicately, “previous king gave the Wizard Court to do. I have created instead the Boom Powder, which is mainly useful for threatening and distractions.”

He raised a small cloth bag, and continued. “It takes careful crafting to make it as efficient as I do, and is very expensive to acquire the materials for.”

Zu stared at him, trying to process this change of topic. He wanted to ask more about the CrossWorlders, but Kaybol interrupted.

“So, where are you heading next?” the boy asked. He seemed to warm up to the wizard surprisingly quickly.

Lakniyam’s attention shifted back to Kaybol.

“For you, the portal I arrived through is a little further north. As for myself,” he added after pointing the direction for them, “I should probably find my way into the Nyxians territories of this continent. Maybe I’ll have more luck here than Vastoaria.”

“Oh,” Kaybol blinked twice, then wrinkled his nose. “and you plan on dressing like this?”

“Huh? What is wrong with my outfit? Too fancy for you lot?” said the wizard, slightly offended.

“No, no. nothing like that.” Zu shook his head. “it’s just that.. for Nyxians, they have transformations as a big part of their culture.”

He glanced at Kaybol, who nodded in confirmation. “Even though most don’t transform at all, or significantly.”

Lakniyam furrowed his brow in thought. “I still don’t see what my very fine outfit has to do with is.”

Kaybol sighed, before clarifying. “It is disrespectful to wear neatly fitting clothes. It’s like declaring ‘I can beat you all without transforming!’. You should really find baggier clothes.”

“I… see.” The half-Nyxian nodded slowly. Zu could understand his reluctance. He got 8 years with a Nyxian, and it still felt really weird for an argument.

#

As they watched Lakniyam getting further away, Zu turned to Kaybol.

“I think today’s mission was a success.” He said brightly.

“You really think so, Zu-Nii?” Kaybol asked him dubiously. He did suspect exactly what was Zu’s mission today. In his mission, yes. Today was indeed a success. However, Kaybol was looking for clues on the “Autumn Witch”. Instead, he found a half-Vastoari.

Zu seemed to notice the glare that Kaybol was giving him, and backed off that particular topic. After a long and awkward silence, he eventually spoke.

“I think we should just return home.” He mumbled, and started to walk to the direction Lakniyam have shown them before.

Kaybol sighed, massaging his temples. It was a tough day for him. Especially because Auraiiya-Sama won’t be happy if she will find out he got himself bleeding. She was very protective. Then, something else crossed his mind.

“Zutenko-Niichan?” he tugged at Zu’s now filthy cloak.

“Hm?” Zu turned, and his sour mood seemed to change as he saw Kaybol's expression.

“Thank you.” Kaybol grinned sincerely. “For saving me in there, I mean.”

Kaybol's grin only widened, as he saw Zu's struggle to not blush.

Always can’t take a compliment, I see. He thought with some satisfaction.

“I- I guess, you're welcome.” Zu tried to smile back. “I mean, isn’t that what big brothers are for?”

“You, the big brother?” Kaybol almost laughed from the idea. “I'm waaaaay older than you.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Zu protested back, “I'm still physically bigger – surely I should get some credit! Can we at least agree to disagree?”

“Nope!” Kaybol chuckled, and gave Zu a very light punch in the arm. Zu couldn’t help but laugh too. After a few moments of laughter, Zu grew thoughtful again.

“CrossWorlders…” he muttered to himself, almost whispering. “I need to find out more..”

Zu's voice was low, but not low enough to avoid Kaybol hearing. He had a bad feeling about this. The way Zu talked about his memories in the past were always so vague. Too vague. His knowledge of the FirstWorld always seemed to come on the spot.

That just isn’t right. Thought Kaybol to himself. Unless someone is actively blocking his FirstWorld memories…

Kaybol slowed his steps, and allowed Zu to walk further away. Carefully, the boy lifted the strands that covered his right eye, and he looked straight into the soul of his brother in concentration. Or at least, where Zu’s soul should’ve been. And he didn’t like what he saw.

Kaybol wondered if his mistress knew. For now, he decided, he should look into this matter on his own.

#

At a palace of Duatsow was painted white, and located between two large lakes. This was the home of Beqneshi, and today she held guests.

The lady herself, with amphibian-looking body and curly dark locks was wearing her summer dress and sipping her tea. Across the table were her friends, or “her boys”, as she preferred to think of them. 

“In a few more days, my friend,” O’Kitaar spoke, sitting in front of her, “we will introduce Duatsow to a newly appointed Demon Lord.” His hand was on the shoulder of the large, lizard man besides him.

“But why wait until then, my lord?” asked Fijeris. The red snake-like was sitting on Beqneshi’s left, examining one of the glasses. He always preferred to drink only from the best of wines.

The Kiadra of the Rampaging Element grinned from ear to ear. “Because, my friend, this is how politics works. It’s all about the timing~”

He turned to Beqneshi. “Your advice paid off.” O'Kitaar chuckled. “Holding the information until now would keep from away from connecting dear Gezthour here-“ he gave the lizard man a friendly slap, “to the newly ascended Nyxian I tell them about.”

“You want them to disrespect me.” Gezthour said. The trio froze and looked at the fourth and newest member of the inner circle. His voice was deep. No matter how quietly he spoke, the calmest tone would still sound like a threat.

“No, of course not!” O'Kitaar chuckled after taking a moment to gather himself. “We want you to play it safe, stay underestimated. Don’t shine too much.

“We are letting them think they know what we’re doing, while confusing them with false news. Presenting a false pattern, if you will.” Beqneshi added. Gezthour narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

“If we already speaking of our little soiree-” Fijeris leaned in, smirking at O'Kitaar again, “did you send her an invitation?”

“Please tell me you didn’t.” Beqneshi shook her head ruefully. To this, O’Kitaar’s smile grew bigger.

“Why, of course I did!” he replied playfully. “After all, she’s my fellow Kiadra colleague, and I promised!” 

Beqneshi pinched her nose bridge in frustration. “Oh, dear Nyx and the forgotten pantheons..” she muttered.

“No.” O'Kitaar said sharply. “We do not worship her. We will never worship any of them. We will be worshipped. That is why we play this dangerous game.” He added.

“Besides,” added Fijeris quickly in an attempt to defuse the tension, “you know well too that the Kiadra of the Abyssal element won’t cooperate with a mere taunt. What’s the harm then?”

Both O'Kitaar and Beqneshi took a moment to breath. Then, O'Kitaar smiled.

“Oh, but that’s when it gets good~” he grinned wildly, and took for himself another class of wine. “She accepted.”

Beqneshi and Fijeris both stared at him in surprise. Gezthour just scoffed.

“What’s the plan then, my lord?” Fijeris asked, the smile of his own slowly returning.

O'Kitaar leaned back and sipped from his glass. “I'm a Kiadra of my word, my friend~ how about you will bring your pet too. Maybe we’ll make a new friend~”

Beqneshi put away her cup of tea, and grabbed a glass instead.

“Two Kiadrio in my palace for a game.” She muttered to herself as she poured the wine into her glass. She then bit her lip for a moment before raising her glass and making the biggest smile she could muster.

“To true immortality and godhood!” She exclaimed.

“Well, we must drink to that, ain't we boys?” O'Kitaar raised his glass with a grin, and so did Fijeris. Gezthour frowned, but poured for himself a glass too.