Chương 2: The Arrival

—Sara Reece— Sara's first thought when she found herself in King Escar's audience chamber was something between Thank God I'm home and Jesus Christ. Do I really have to do this shit again? Sara was the first to gain her bearings and the last to care about what was going on. King Trinov Escar was coughing up blood, something everyone should've expected, in retrospect. He was suffering from the same disease that Sara's adoptive daughter had: tyrexis, an ailment that made someone allergic to mana.

Despite being afflicted by mana, he insisted on being in the audience chamber when forty mages used a cargo ship's worth of mana crystals to summon people from another world. He felt it was something he had to do, considering the gravity of the abduction, but all it did was leave a power vacuum when the wise, mild-mannered king died, inadvertently leaving his kingdom to a bastard son and—later—a future tyrant: Jason Newborn. Sara looked for her mother.

Doesn't look like she made it, either, she thought, thinking of her teacher. Seems there really was an age restriction. Mary broke her out of her thoughts. It was impossible to think when a villainous person she hated was going on a vitriolic rampage, screaming, "Where the hell are we? Who the hell are you? What's going on?" turning left and right as she stared at all the mages in the room, all of whom were speaking Krallen, a language none but Sara knew.

A guard was saying, "Please calm down," with both hands up, but to her classmates, he was saying, "Ilictu maniha troha," which might as well have meant "We're here to abduct you. Come quietly." Meanwhile, a brigade of guards circled King Escar, screaming, "We need to get him out of here!" adding to the panic.

"We need to greet them. His orders."

"His orders? He won't have orders if he's dead!"

"Let's get him some treatment. He'll meet them later." The man who gave the final order was someone Sara could pick out in a riot. Edico… Sara thought. He glanced at her and then away as if she were just another person. As if she hadn't just fought the final battle against Agronus with him. As if he hadn't just— (Died.) Sara's world spun when she found herself at odds with two truths: In this world, Edico, Tiber (her adoptive daughter), and everyone else she loved were still alive.

The kingdom had yet to fall into ruin. Jason was just an image-obsessed narcissist, not a brutal tyrant. This world was hers to reclaim— —but was it a world she wanted to reclaim? Sara didn't save Veridia due to some calling. She wasn't a hero. She was once crowned queen, but that was only because she killed Jason and Mary and no one else could take up the throne. So, her duty to protect the world came from unique circumstances. But what was the point?

Even if she could amass grand power the likes that even Jason couldn't fathom, what would it be for? Kyritus, her fiancé and lover, wouldn't even recognize her. He would just look at her like Edico looked at her—as just a somebody. A patron of his tavern. Sara was about to plunge into an inescapable abyss of despair when she suddenly heard a haunting cry. She turned her head with choppy fluidity and found a redhead sobbing on the ground. It was Emma. Her high school best friend.

The person who died to bring an end to Jason's "Hero's Party" and kickstart a new world order.

"Emma…" she muttered. Sara took two noncommittal steps forward when a spiritualist —the name for mages who specialized in mental manipulation magic—began her communication. It was strange to be communicated to by a spiritualist. Instead of words, they told stories with mental images. Everyone watched in their minds as she expressed that King Escar wished to greet them, but fell ill. Then she explained that there would be a banquet, followed by being assigned servants and tutors to help everyone read.

There was an implication that everyone would receive answers later, despite receiving wealth, prestige, and other luxuries instead—things to cope with the loss of their friends, families, and futures. Sara was staring into nothingness when she suddenly caught sight of the array underneath her feet. It had eight layers composed of ancient runes that had been lost centuries ago—and the first eight layers of the ten-layer array she had been sent back to Earth with.

That meant someone with exceptional arraycraft skills modified the summoning array not only to send her home, but also to reverse time with only two extra layers. It was incredible. Still… Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Wait… how does this even make sense? She looked around and saw someone else interested in the array: Daniel Winters. He was a quiet kid with long hair whose hobbies were playing guitar and avoiding people.

His interest wouldn't seem so strange if he weren't fixated on it so closely. She wanted to approach him, but as soon as she moved, the guards started ushering them into the ballroom. As she followed the group, she passed Edico. And for a single moment, there was a spark between them. Edico narrowed his eyes on her. She cocked her head slightly, but the guards pushed her toward the grand hall for the feast. Maybe they do recognize me, she thought. If only a little…

2 Sara's hopes that she was recognized were dashed when she realized that Emma didn't recognize her. The poor redhead was sobbing, surrounded by people trying to console her. She had the biggest heart—and paid the price for it. Then, and now. Raul Martinez, "The Shield" as he was later known, approached her.

"Why aren't you with her?" he asked.

"Working myself up to it," she said, swigging from a bottle of wine. There was a filled wine glass beside her plate of roasted duck. She decided she'd save it for when someone of importance made her "lady up" for the night. Raul eyed the glass and back.

"There's something different about you."

"Got in a fist fight," she said, lifting her bandaged hand.

"Got a concussion." Her hand had been mended by a healer but she rewrapped it in the bloody bandage to send a message. What message? She didn't exactly know. But she felt she needed it. Probably for this.

"No…" Raul said queerly, repeating, "No," slowly after. He looked back at Emma.

"Look, I don't know what's gotten into you, but Emma needs you. I'll ward off Jason if you console her. Deal?" Reasonable as usual, Sara thought, eyeing Jason, who was glancing at her during his meeting with the spiritualist. Sara couldn't tell what she was showing him, but she guessed the woman was filling Jason's mind with grand thoughts of him being the Hero and oh boy, was he paying attention. It wouldn't last long, though. Then, he'd probably come over to relay what he saw to her.

"Deal," Sara said.

"For the night. I don't want to talk to him."

"Why?" Raul asked.

"What happened between you two?" She tongued her cheek and shrugged.

"I just got over him." Sara lifted her backpack and walked away, leaving Raul to process her words. He, like everyone else, sensed the change in her. It was impossible for her to hide her dual identity. She supposed there might be value in playing the fool, allowing her old memories and new ones to fuse, and then slowly working her way into a position of popularity and power—but she wouldn't pull it off. Couldn't pull it off. Right now, she was a thirty-something queen speaking to children.

To her, the only person she'd be willing to talk to was Edico Sullsburg or Aelia Twilix, both sycounts, magical knights of the highest caliber. They were both nearing a century in age despite their looks, a benefit of the magical cleansing elixirs that the king—and Sara's adoptive daughter—were barred from. No, Sara needed age. Conversations with adults. Yet that wasn't happening. Not tonight, at least. Sara sighed as she approached Emma's table.

Classmates gave way when Sara approached, some out of apprehension, given that she was holding a bottle of wine with a bloody, bandaged hand, others because there was a pecking order amongst young women and she was Emma's best friend.

"Hey, Emma," Sara said softly. The moment Emma looked at her with her puffy eyes, painted red and green like a traumatized Christmas card, memories of Sara's past life flooded in. Not just the original summoning—but of their old friendship. She could suddenly empathize with Emma; their spark was strong. Sara gripped her forehead when the memories flooded in, then broke free when Emma pulled her into a hug.

"Sara!" Emma cried.

"I-I'm so sorry!"

"About… what?" Sara asked in confusion.

"Your mom. Y-Your mom. She's not here. Even though she was—""She's fine," Sara whispered, rubbing the back of Emma's head.

"There must've been some sort of age limit. They're safe. Just not here."

"R-Really?" Sara swallowed.

"Yeah."

"How can you be cool at a time like this?" Mary snapped.

"I'm… drunk," Sara replied listlessly, lifting the bottle.

"Very drunk. It's… shocking how drunk this body can get."

"Back off," one of the girls said, and Mary did, turning her attention to Jason and Raul, who were watching them.

"Fine," Mary said, and stormed off. Sara returned her attention to Emma, who was still crying, crying like the time that Sara's cousin was rear-ended by a car, despite it being a small incident, crying like she cried when her friend's mother got leukemia, crying like the time Eddy Michaels, a fellow classmate, died in a dirtbike racing accident. Emma. Emma was the heart of the Hero's Party—the ideal that kept the mission to kill Agronus pious and optimistic.

The day she died due to Jason's fuckup was the day that calcified Sara's beliefs—the day Sara felt the true indignity of their abduction and the vicious reality of a world ruled by raw violence and politics. Sara hugged Emma closely, tuning out the sobs by listening to the nearby musicians playing Lianora flutes, whistling a lulling melody that welcomed her home.