Chương 22: Act 1, Chapter 22: Sharing the magic

Day in the story: 1st October (Wednesday)"So, it was the railgun you created that messed you up?" Peter asked after I finally finished the story. Of everything I just told him: world-hopping, soulmarks, painted travel magic, he was stuck on the weapon. Boys.

"Yeah," I sighed.

"The recoil nearly broke me in half. Worth it, though."

"Can I see it?"

"Sure. It's under the bed you're sitting on, actually. But I stripped my power from it, it's just a painted pistol now."

"Still want to see it," he said, already reaching under the frame and pulling out a box. I went bright red.

"That is not the box you're looking for. My sex toys are in there." He froze and paled. Then, with the speed and coordination of a man defusing a bomb, he slid the box right back under the bed without another word.

"You should've warned me!" he hissed, mortified. Zoe was grinning ear to ear. This time, Peter reached again and came back with the right box. He looked to me for confirmation before opening it and I gave him a nod, still biting back laughter. He pulled out Noxy—silver, black and streaked with blue. The barrel looked like it had magnetic coils running along it. It was sleek and futuristic and gorgeous, even inert.

"Damn," he breathed.

"That's the prettiest gun I've ever seen."

"You haven't seen that many," I pointed out.

"Still." He held it up toward the lamp light, examining it.

"Will you use it again?" he asked.

"If I really need the kick. Otherwise, probably not. I'd rather not get tossed like around again." He carefully placed the gun back in the box and returned it under the bed. Then he straightened and looked at me.

"So... Portals?"

"Not actual swirling gateways or anything," I said.

"But yeah, functionally the same." Zoe leaned forward.

"You think you can take us?" Peter chimed in at the same time.

"Will it be safe?"

"Yes. Safe," I nodded.

"And I think I can bring you along if you're touching me and don't resist my Authority." I glanced at Zoe at that last part. She nodded without a question. Peter hesitated, then swallowed and nodded too.

"Show me," he said.

"Touch my shoulders," I instructed.

"I'll need both hands free." They each placed a hand on one shoulder. I opened the Travel Grimoire to the first page showing my Domain and touched the painting with my fingers. Let's go home, I thought and the world blurred and recreated itself in a proper place around us. This time I felt it. My soul stretched thin, as if I'd dragged two anchors through the space along with me. It didn't hurt, but I could tell it cost me something. Maybe that's what the crystal meant, how the harder the feat, the more I grow.

Still, we made it and as soon as we arrived in the heart of my Domain, I felt the crystal's light reaching into me, stitching my soul back together. Not just healing, but reinforcing too, growing stronger. They didn't scream. That was the first surprise. The second was how still they both went. For a second, maybe two, they just stood behind me, hands still resting lightly on my shoulders. Their eyes were wide and unmoving, as if their brains were still catching up to their senses.

Then Peter let out a soft, "Holy shit." Zoe said nothing. Her eyes just moved slowly, taking everything in: the soft, eternal sky above us, painted like daybreak but glowing with a light that didn't come from any sun. The great white wall encircling the place like a temple, parts of it now alive with paintings that shimmered faintly with the promise of other worlds. And at the center of it all, the crystal, pulsing, radiant, spinning with streaks of light that looked like captured storms of color.

"This is…" Peter began again but failed to finish. He walked a few steps forward, then turned in a slow circle, arms slightly out like he wasn't sure if he was going to touch something or kneel. Zoe, in contrast, walked with intention. Her steps were light as she circled toward the crystal, her fingers ghosting over the air around it without ever making contact. Her face had shifted—she was calm but utterly focused, like she was seeing more than what was in front of her.

"It's beautiful," she said finally. Her voice was quiet, like anything louder would break something sacred. Peter finally tore his eyes off the sky and turned to look at me." You made this?" I gave a small shrug.

"I didn't build it. It's just… mine. It came into being when I earned my Authority. It's a reflection, in a way."

"It's a kingdom," he muttered.

"It's like standing inside your soul." That made me pause. I hadn't thought of it like that. But he wasn't wrong. Zoe walked to me and touched my hand gently.

"And every painting on the wall is a place you've been?" I nodded.

"The paintings are my anchors. I can travel to them, instantly, just by touching them here or in my Travel Grimoire." Zoe smiled, her eyes were bright like sunlit ocean. Peter had wandered over to one of the walls, inspecting a painting of the crevice near campus.

"Can I use them alone?" he asked.

"No," I said with a grin.

"I need to touch them." He shook his head and laughed, but there was something softer behind it, an awe he wasn't quite willing to show outright.

"This place feels… safe," Zoe whispered beside me.

"Like it's protecting us. Like it knows who we are."

"It does," I said and I knew it with the same certainty I knew where to find my own face in the dark.

"You're here because I trust you. That's why you can stand here and breathe its air. You both are welcome here." Peter raised a brow at me.

"So, if someone uninvited came here?" The crystal pulsed, faintly, with a reddish flicker.

"I don't think they'd get far," I said. He looked slightly impressed and equally nervous. Zoe took my hand firmly into hers.

"Thank you for showing us this," she said.

"It's the first time I've been in Ideworld in the flesh." Peter, still scanning the space with curious eyes, chimed in.

"There are no regular doors out of here?"

"Not unless I will one into being," I replied.

"But if you don't mind, I'd prefer to head back to Earth for now."

"Sure," Peter said absently, still turning in place as his gaze lingered on the circular walls and the glowing crystal.

"But if you're going to bring guests here, maybe think about adding some furniture. Feels like a magical airport lounge, without the chairs." You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Duly noted. Just grab hold of me again." They both stepped close, each placing a hand on me, Zoe's touch warm, Peter's steady, if slightly unsure. I opened my Travel Grimoire once more and turned to the sketch of my room. Take us home. The thought was enough and in a heartbeat, the Domain vanished around us, replaced by the mundane yet comforting familiarity of my real-world bedroom. The air shifted; the sounds of rain returned faintly through the window.

This time, there was no jarring pull on my soul, no sense of unraveling and reforming. I felt whole and energized. The presence of my soul core during the jump must have anchored me, shielding me from the strain. Zoe blinked as we returned to my room, the warm lamplight replacing the surreal glow of my Domain.

"That was smoother," she said, letting go of my shoulder and stretching her arms like she was shaking off a dream.

"Not that the first time wasn't impressive. But this felt… lighter."

"It was," I said.

"Much easier on me. The Domain, the soul core at its heart, it must have helped me balance out the toll of the jump when I started from there." Peter sat down on the edge of my bed again, glancing around the room as if to make sure we were really back on Earth.

"Okay, I'll admit it now: that was insane. Like, in a good way. You literally have your own private dimension."

"Yeah, well, it came with its fair share of bruises and soul-stretching," I said, leaning against my desk.

"But it's mine. And now, you've both seen it too." Zoe was still smiling, but more thoughtfully now.

"You're really changing, Lex. In ways most people won't ever understand. But somehow, you still feel the same." I appreciated that more than I could say.

"Thanks. I'm trying to keep my feet on the ground, even if my soul's off painting the fabric of reality." I was sure however that the changes did not leave me the same, even in psychological manner. I made some questionable choice since I got my power. Helping police or this shadowspawned thief was not something I would have done just a week ago. Peter chuckled.

"So… are we like your chosen ones now? You gonna knight us or something?" I rolled my eyes.

"I'll paint you a cape if you want."

"No capes, thank you." he grinned, then yawned.

"But seriously, how are you feeling?"

"Like shit, but Zoe's soup was pure medicine." I gave Zoe a grateful look.

"You're welcome," she said, bumping her shoulder into mine, thankfully the right one.

"I'll bring more if you promise not to go dimension-hopping without telling us again."

"No promises," I said, grinning. She sighed, but I could see the glint of excitement in her eyes. Neither of them would admit it outright yet, but I could feel it, now that they'd had a taste of the impossible, they wouldn't want to turn back. Or maybe it was just projection of my own thoughts.

When Peter finally accepted that I was, for the most part, fine and more importantly, when Zoe subtly dragged him away to deal with the emotional earthquake that was his unexpected "I love you," I was finally left alone. They slipped into his room, likely to talk, or argue, or maybe both. Either way, it gave me the space I needed. I stared at my phone, that creeping sensation of dread curling in my chest like a cold breeze down the spine. I found Mr. Penrose's number and tapped it with a sigh heavier than I meant.

He picked up on the first ring.

"Alexandra?" His voice was crisp but laced with an undercurrent of concern.

"Hello, Mr. Penrose. I'm sorry for not picking up earlier, I was out of service range."

"Everything all right?"

"I'm bruised pretty badly, but otherwise fine." There was a pause.

"Is this related to de Marcos?"

"No, sir. But it is something I'd rather discuss in person, if possible."

"Is it?" I hesitated.

"Sir, why have you been calling me?" He sighed.

"De Marco is proving difficult. Two of the people I sent after him are dead. I'm not willing to continue pressing with no progress. I'm arranging peace talks."

"Peace talks?" I echoed, alarmed. If Shiroi showed up, if he unraveled the very concept of safety in that room, Penrose wouldn't stand a chance.

"Yes. We've spoken. He's agreed to meet, to talk business."

"Then we definitely need to meet. Immediately."

"In relation to what you hinted at earlier?"

"That and de Marco, apparently."

"Well, that works out. I was going to ask you to take on an infiltration job anyway. We can discuss both in person. How soon can you get here?" I paused just long enough to ask, "Sir, are you alone? In your private room?"

"Yes. Why?" I reached for the Travel Grimoire, flipped it open to the page where I had painted his office with careful strokes and focused. Take me there. The shift was immediate, a flicker, a world moving and then calmness again. I appeared right in front of him. He jumped in response, while his phone slipped from his hand and fell on the hardwood floor.

"Because," I said, smiling just a bit as his eyes widened, "I can be here right now." I ended the call and slid my phone into my side pocket. Mr. Penrose moved toward me, placing a firm hand on my left shoulder, exactly where the worst of the bruising sat. I grimaced and he noticed.

"You're really here," he said, his voice somewhere between wonder and disbelief.

"How is that possible, Alexandra?"

"Sir, this is going to sound strange, but please, I need a piece of paper and something to draw with. I'll explain while I work." He gave me a long, wary but curious look. Then, wordlessly, he stepped behind his desk and handed me a company-branded notepad and his personal pen. He gestured to his chair. I took it, sitting as he stood across from me—it never happened before. I began to draw the moment from just minutes ago: me appearing suddenly in this room, him dropping his phone, his eyes wide in disbelief.

As I worked, I spoke.

"There's magic in the world, sir. Real magic. People can do incredible things, but the world itself pushes us to forget it ever happened."

"And how exactly am I supposed to forget this?" he asked, gesturing to the room, to me.

"You just materialized right in front of me."

"Well," I said gently, "that's what I thought, too. But remember when I told you about Shiroi? About what he did to the car? To Thomas and Honey? You said you believed me then, but afterward, it was like you forgot everything. You dismissed it." He looked momentarily stricken, disturbed by the gap in his memory.

"Did I?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"And now I know why. Magic leaves no permanent imprint on the sleeper's mind. It fades. You forget it like a dream. But I've started learning how to hold onto it and how to help others do the same."

"And you know this magic now?" he asked.

"It's new, but yes. I do."

"What exactly can you do?" I paused for a breath.

"A lot, actually. My magic manifests through art, it's my medium and my conduit. I can bring meaning to life through drawing. Let me show you." I held up the drawing of this very room in my Travel Grimoire.

"I can paint or draw a place I've seen and if I remember it clearly enough, I can go there. Instantly. Just by touching the image. That's how I got here." His eyes scanned the sketch, brow furrowed in fascination.

"That's remarkable, Alexandra. This opens so many doors for you." And for him, though he didn't say that part aloud.

"Maybe," I replied.

"But it also means you need to rethink everything about your meeting with de Marco. If Shiroi is present, your precautions mean nothing. His magic makes him virtually untouchable, he unravels matter just by contact. He's dismantled bullets, blades, people—even redirected electricity." Penrose began pacing, his mind working fast.

"What about explosions?" I blinked.

"You'd be surprised how often I don't think about that, sir. But honestly, I don't know. He's stopped everything else."

"Maybe not him, then. But the employer… de Marco." He gave a short, sharp breath.

"I'm going to meet with him anyway." Of course he was. I hoped his confidence would keep him alive.

"I wanted to ask you to infiltrate his vacation home," he continued.

"It's up north, by the lakes. He's been visiting frequently, which is unusual. My people think there's something hidden there, something valuable."

"I can do that," I said, "but not right away. I'm still healing." I lifted my shirt just enough to show the bruises along my ribs. His expression hardened with a flicker of guilt.

"Understood. I'll arrange for transport once you're ready."

"One more thing, sir. Do you have a date and time set for the de Marco meeting?"

"Not yet."

"Set it for Monday, 6 p. m." He frowned.

"Why?"

"Because I have a class at that time. A sewing course. And guess who's teaching it?" I let it hang there.

"You're joking."

"No, I'm not. It's him. Shiroi. If he doesn't show up to class that night, odds are he'll be at your meeting instead."

"You've known this and didn't tell me?" He was more stunned than angry now.

"As I said, he'd dismantle anyone you sent. And I kind of need the class. He's a really good teacher." He ran a hand through his hair, then laughed in disbelief.

"I taught you better than I thought. You've figured out how to use even an indestructible killer as a resource." I just smiled.

"I thought you'd appreciate it."

"I'll schedule the meeting then. I'll confirm when he agrees."

"Perfect. One last thing, sir. Be the memory of everything Mr. Penrose learned today," I whispered touching the finished sketch of our conversation—watching as the magic awakened and wove itself into the paper, a subtle shimmer as Authority settling into it. Then I handed the drawing to him.

"Keep this close. On your person. Wallet, pendant, whatever. Just don't alter it, or the memory anchor will fail."

"Can I fold it?"

"Yes. But any change to the drawing itself, even a scratch or a smear, will break the effect. I think." He studied the drawing like it was a key to another world. And maybe, it truly was.

"Thank you, Alexandra," he said, quieter than I'd ever heard him.

"I'll treasure this."

"No problem, sir." I stood, brushing my clothes into place with a wince as my ribs protested.

"This ride to de Marco's house… could it be today?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You said you needed time."

"I need time before I enter, yes," I clarified.

"But I can go see it now, paint it, capture its essence. That way, I can return whenever I'm ready. It'll give me the advantage later."

"Oh," he murmured, blinking as if reprocessing the breadth of my abilities. Then he patted his jacket and fumbled for his phone, only to remember it had crashed to the floor earlier. I bent down and picked it up, offering it back to him.

"You dropped it, sir."

"Ah. Yes. Thank you." He took it, already distracted again by the implications of what I'd said. I could almost see gears turning behind his eyes.

"If you don't mind," I added gently, "I'll leave you now. Once the transport's ready, I can come back here, or the driver can collect me from just outside my building. Either works."

"I'll see to that," he said, already tapping into his cracked screen. I nodded, then turned toward the sketchbook. I placed my hand on the page that held the drawing of my room, my sanctuary and whispered the intent into my soul. Take me home. The world folded and in the next heartbeat, I was back in my room.