Chapter 197: There is No Hindsight


    “Miss Ambrose-Sharp.”


    Elizabeth glanced at the weird familiar. A thing of silver and dust and cloth, standing in the center of her room at the Storm house. Something that was always lurking and watching.


    “Yeah, what is it?” she asked, discomforted. It had just appeared in her room, without invitation.


    “You are taking a photo, Miss Ambrose-Sharp.”


    She glanced down. She was on her bed, in the process of taking a selfie. “I don’t see the problem with it.”


    “Are you aware of the reading material in the background, Miss Ambrose-Sharp? It is at risk of photography.”


    Elizabeth scoffed. Sure. The books were strewn open on the bed, littered with notes and details. 5 star—legendary—essences. Those had interested her.


    “No one is going to see. It’s just in the background.”


    “If it is not too strenuous for you, Miss Ambrose-Sharp, angling your body in the opposite direction will remove any conflict.”


    Elizabeth heard that insult woven in. She wasn’t born yesterday, and her sister’s familiar was a bitch. She scoffed and took the photo.


    A moment later, her phone was out of her hands and within the familiar’s.


    “What the fuck!? You can’t just steal my phone. Give it back to me.”


    “Once I delete the photo, Miss Ambrose-Sharp.” The being fiddled with her phone for a second, quickly deleting the image, then handed her phone back to her. Asshole.


    “Miss Ambrose-Sharp, if you repeat this careless action, we will be collectively enacting an exercise in futility. Although, given that I possess more bodies than you, this course will be proportionally more pointless for you than it is for me. I would still, however, like to spend my time in other matters than child-sitting.”


    Calling her a child now. Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed at the familiar. “I don’t like you.”


    The familiar smiled neutrally. “I do not like you either, Miss Ambrose-Sharp.”


    “No one will be reading the background of a selfie for magical texts,” Elizabeth reiterated.


    “Given what little I know of your world, it is a reasonable expectation. Most spend longer affecting the perfect image than looking at one. However, my benefactor has established just three rules for you to follow. And while it is courteous and generous to offer you and her extended family essences, it is not required of her.


    “Therefore, regardless of how reasonable my benefactor’s rules are, I expect you to follow them. If you do not, I will inform my benefactor of your willing withdrawal and your disinterest and lack of commitment in receiving magic.”


    “You’re threatening me?”


    “I recommend a ‘digital detox’,” the familiar continued, polite in that insulting way. “It may cure you of your addiction. If physical separation would be of benefit, I offer my services. Your phone will suffer no harm in my care.”


    The two stared each other down, the familiar unyielding. Elizabeth was incensed—it was just a photo!  Still, it all got under her skin. The room felt small, and the familiar, although unassuming, felt large.


    “This is ridiculous,” she scoffed, the first to break eye contact (although the familiar didn’t exactly have eyes.)


    “In my humble opinion, the price requested is pittance against the reward.”


    Elizabeth huffed and threw her comforter over the books, covering them. “There. Happy?”


    “No. But it’ll suffice if you so desperately need your media validation. I hope that I will not need to report your unfortunate withdrawal to my benefactor.”


    “You won’t need to,” Elizabeth said, glaring at the floating sheet.


    “Very well. I’ll be watching, Miss Ambrose-Sharp.”


    *******


    “Nara,” Knowledge greeted. Today, she was in the shape of an elf—one Nara hadn’t seen before. Her skin was pure white—actual white, like a sheet of paper, bare of any color. Her hair was also white, tinged blue, and just as reflective as snow in the sun. Her eyes, conversely, were dark—a deep brown, fanned with delicate, fluffy white lashes.


    “The unique environment of Kallid has transformed not one but three inherently magical races,” Knowledge said, anticipating Nara’s question. “Greythunder draconids, frostfall elves, and stormchaser leonids. The balance of magic here is unlike any other.”


    They walked. Nara let Knowledge lead her around, for now. It seemed something Knowledge liked to do.


    “Even one inherently magical race is supposed to be rare,” Nara idly commented. “Let alone three in one region.”


    “Indeed,” Knowledge said. “Fertility takes great interest in their genetic makeup.”


    “Trying to make a super race?” She wasn’t sardonic, just genuinely curious. She had no beef with Fertility.


    Knowledge tilted her head. “You know there is no such thing. For all the messengers are born at silver, they are not superior to essence users of the same rank. Inherent power exchanged for potential power. Rather, their populations are small, so Fertility watches their populations to prevent inbreeding and genetic abnormalities, and subsidizes any children from interracial marriages at her facilities. You’ll find that racial intermarriage is heavily encouraged in this world, unlike yours.” Knowledge frowned. “Except for the draconids, but that is Fertility’s annoyance, not mine.”


    They walked around the grounds unbothered; either Knowledge had done something with her divine aura to isolate them, or her priests knew well her intentions, and left them in a strange bubble of public privacy. Eventually, they winded into a building, architecture sophisticated in a way only an expert mathematician and architect could create. Perfect tapered archways, measured down to some millimeter precision, built corresponding to some sort of aesthetic theory or golden ratio Nara didn’t know of.


    Nara had thought they were wandering aimlessly, but she should have known Knowledge always moved with purpose. Down a hallway, into a room. A storage room, although impeccable in orderliness and pristine in a way genuine storage never was. A priest showed up at this exact moment—Gwydion, she realized—slid open a container, and presented her with a body.


    Her body. Living and breathing.


    Well, not breathing, since Nara did not breathe, but Nara could recognize the hue of life, the flexibility of a body untouched by rigor mortis, and the vague sense of life force, although she had not John’s actual sense for it.


    “The diamond ranked coin you…loaned to Tyranel has been used to resurrect your body,” Knowledge began, humor in the word ‘loaned’. “Your weapon is attached.”


    There it was, on her ear. With a thought, it swirled towards her, settling on the ear of her current body instead.


    “You have objections with the manner of which I handled our deal,” Knowledge said, bringing up Nara’s complaints before she had a chance to voice them. Rude. Knowledge couldn’t even let her complain properly. “My method is faultless. There is your body, your death free to expend once more in a manner of your choice. You have lost nothing. You have gained the location of your world, a method to move others across dimensional boundaries, access to The Advent’s home world, and future wealth from the information you have retrieved.”


    “That was my actions, not yours. It cannot be attributed to you.”


    “At the cost of a single diamond rank spirit coin,” Knowledge plowed on. “A trade any would make.”


    Had they a diamond rank spirit coin to loan to begin within. Although, Nara could admit if Knowledge really cared (for a different person), her church would probably foot the cost anyway.


    “In hindsight,” Nara stressed. “I didn’t know that I’d be able to come back from death in any reasonable time frame. I though I had lost my life here, and the chance to see my family before they died!”


    “Hindsight,” Knowledge said, voice fixed in surety of her own machinations. “There is no hindsight, only results. What does it matter if it had not happened?”


    “How am I supposed to know,” Nara said slowly, “if the next time you play chess master, whether I will be a sacrificial pawn, or one promoted to a queen?” Loathe as she was to admit it, she understood Ducha. There was fear and rage there, in not being able to control your own destiny. “I will thank you for your care—for keeping my body, for giving me a beneficial deal that I ultimately survived, that I was not just a pawn in this instance—at least, not a disposable one.” By alive, she meant alive to live her life here—Knowledge would know. “This is not some threat, Knowledge, I know you aren’t inherently an enemy.” An efficient general, a brilliant strategist, callous either by nature or by the exchange of lives they must always make. “You must have left me alive because I will serve some sort of use in the future. When the time comes, my cooperation will not be easy so gain for you.”


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    “I’ve accounted for that,” Knowledge said, haughty in confidence, although her expression was calculating and neutral as always. “You’d do well as my priest, Nara. You understand that there is a best path forward and understand that sacrifices must be made. You do not let emotions cloud your judgement; that there is a place for emotions, and it is not in decisions.”


    “Perhaps they should be.” Knowledge hadn’t asked her to be her priest, and Nara needn’t answer. They both already knew the answer was no.


    “I understand morality and ethics,” Knowledge said, with force. “The actions I take account for them. And yet, where the future is concerned, where lives are concerned, something must bend.” She tilted her chin up, evaluating. “But I will accept your gratitude, and take have taken heed. If you want to know more, then you will know more. It changes nothing.”


    “It’s all I ask. If you ask me that which you know I will agree, then perhaps knowledge does trump all.”


    Her lips quirked. “We shall see. Until next time, Nara Edea. Or should I say Nora Ambrose?”


    “No,” she said, “just Nara.”


    *****


    Nirvana floated up at her ear, her reliable partner in life and in dealing death. John, her ally on Earth, friend, and healer, squeezed her shoulder once.


    “Are we ready?” he asked. They stood outside of the highly arrayed building.


    Agency of Special Investigations


    “They really just put their name on the side of the building, huh,” Nara remarked. “I suppose nobody gives it a second glance.”


    “Even if we looked it up,” John said, “I’m sure there’s some sort of fake site.”


    They walked in.


    *****


    “Uh, Jess.” Lucas’ head popped around her door, all wide-eyed and innocent. He looked like he had sleep, Jessica thought bitterly. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, unrepentant. “There’s a situation in the lobby.”


    “A situation?” She groaned and rubbed her eyes, as if that’d do anything for her lack of focus. She was already on her 2^nd consecutive shift, and coffee had long ceased to be anything but a placebo, even The Agency’s enhanced blend that was supposed to punch through resistances. Shit for flavor though. “Can’t somebody else deal with it? I told the higher ups to let some of the newcomers handle the cases. They can’t get experience if they leave it all to me.”


    “About that. This may not be appropriate. There’s two unknown metas in the lobby.”


    “Ether Integrators, Lucas,” she automatically corrected, and pushed up from her chair. “At least use EI in the reports.” She chucked an empty coffee cup into a bin, joining several others in their grave. “You know how the higher ups are about it.”


    “Whatever you say, boss.”


    She eyed him doubtfully, but she had never found a mistake in his reports, so she let it slide. Although maybe the lack of sleep was making her slip. She fast walked with him down the corridor, Lucas keeping pace just behind her. “What’s the situation?”


    “Not much to say. They just both walked in, took a seat, and asked to speak with a representative to negotiate. No violence,” Lucas ticked off, “no threats.”


    “The ether scans?”


    Lucas made a face. “That’s a bit complicated. The woman is almost entirely unidentifiable, aside from their EQ. EQ 2,” he clarified. “The man is also EQ 2, but our scans picked up a lot more. More interesting was or physical scans—” he passed her a file as she pressed a button for the elevator, “John Aurelius—get this—is dead. One of those localized ether implosions. Got him in his car, one day while driving back late from work. The Agency had to employ some emergency road repair.”


    Jessica glanced over the file—John Aurelius, formerly an Intelligence Officer of the National Crime Agency. Around 2 and a half years ago, presumed dead in a localized ether implosion event. Investigations with his family—a wife and two children—reported he called, but never showed up that night. Tracking verified their statements, seen leaving the office, although the chaotic ether scrambled cameras at the time of the event.


    “The woman—Nora Ambrose, if she’s to be believed. American. Was formerly in a coma for a year and a half. Facial recognition won’t even work on her, we suspect some sort of anti-identification effect. She’s cooperated with giving her name when asked. Was a long-term patient at Saint Helene Long-Term Care Hospital in Helsingr, Denmark. released around a week ago after 3 weeks of impatient recovery against recommendations.”


    “That’s odd,” said Jessica, impatiently watching the floors tick down. “How did she become EQ 2 in a month? That shouldn’t be possible.”


    “Um…do you want an actual answer to that?”


    “No,” Jessica scowled. “We’ll know soon enough.”


    The pair in question had been moved to a private meeting room, although they refused to enter too far into the building. Wary, Jessica noted, and probably a smart move in their uncertain circumstances.


    The room was one of their receiving rooms, comfortably furnished, and not an interrogation cell. Someone had made the right call here, Jessica approved, no need to aggravate EIs that had come peacefully.


    She gave a perfunctory knock to signal her arrival. “Hello, Nora Ambrose and John Aurelius? I’m Jessica Greer, Senior Agent of the ASI.”


    “Nora,” the woman nodded.


    “John,” he said, offering a hearty shake. “A pleasure to meet you.”


    Their appearances were in line with EQ 2, refined compared to their EQ 0 pictures. Notably, Nora had some sort of blatantly magical earring, which made Jessica internally groan. Had she been walking around in public with that thing??


    “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Jessica said cordially. “To cut to the chase, the ASI is curious over your intentions and your appearances. Both of you, effectively dead to the world, now here in two different ways. One,” she gestured to John, “who has returned from the dead. And another,” she gestured to Nora, “who has awoken from a coma as an Either Integrator.”


    John raised a questioning brow. “Ether Integrator?”


    “Meta human, power user, esper…mage, if you will,” she said, the last one paining her.


    “Ah,” said Nora with some sort of realization. “Essence User. At least, that’s what they called it there.”


    “There?”


    “I suppose this will lead to answering your questions,” John began, his voice of a consummate professional. “Through two different methods, my companion and I ended up in a completely different world to this one. The people their called their world Erras.”


    “My soul ended up there. In my coma,” Nora clarified. “John got summoned.”


    Jessica felt a headache brewing, although she didn’t know if it was a lack of sleep, the caffeine withdrawal, or the situation. Lucas set a new cup in front of her, to delay the inevitable. “You’re claiming there’s another world. That you both arrived at, with two very different methods. One of which…was in a coma.”


    “We don’t claim anything,” John said simply. “We have proof.”


    Jessica looked askance at Lucas to catch a look.


    The researchers had always theorized there should be other worlds, Jessica distantly noted. The ether came from some sort of other dimension, why should their dimension be the only one? She didn’t think it’d ever be confirmed in her lifetime.


    “What we want,” John said, seizing the advantage, “Is very simple. We want to cooperate. Nora and I here, would like to negotiate a contract.”


    “We need money,” she chirped.


    “I want to return to my family. It had been my goal this entire time. The contract would include an introduction to ether for both of our families. An organization such as this would have a procedure for families?”


    “Of course,” Jessica said, relaxing now that she knew what they wanted. The headache wasn’t abating, but it wasn’t getting worse yet. “There’s an arrangement in place. We cannot provide any ether cubes, however. They must be exchanged.”


    “No problem with that.”


    “Good,” Jessica said, flipping through some more files that had been delivered. “We’ll contact the Danish branch and organize an orientation for your family there, Nora. They’re all still there?” She received a nod. “Your family in London, John, can attend here. We’ll need to coordinate with the American branch—your situation is rather complicated, Nora—although you both will find your status of citizenship will change.”


    “Changed?”


    “When the decision was made to keep magic—” she cleared her throat, “—ether, a secret from the public, Either Integrators were switched to a special extra-citizenship status in participating countries, with provisions not to be used in war.”


    “It’s a war crime to use magic in war?” said Nora with a raised eyebrow.


    “Not exactly, but you can think of it that way,” Jessica said wryly. “If one nation starts to use magic in matters of war, it becomes very public very quickly. And, cooperation for suppression against etherbeasts—” she glanced at their faces and switched to the colloquial term “—monsters requires some level of international cooperation.”


    There was no doubt that countries kept some EIs dark, Jessica thought, but at least the majority of them were official. It offered them some protection—significant EI mistreatment led to defection to a participating country. There was still EI nationalism, but this struck a balance of cooperation for the alliance and cooperation for the home.


    “So it’s like the EU but for more countries. Or an essence user Union?”


    “More or less,” Jessica said, although it wasn’t that simple nor that reliable. “Changing your primary nation of residence will result in different tax codes and other regulations, which can be negotiated.” She glanced at Nora. “America is rather known for such special treatment beyond the standard.”


    “I’ll have to see how contract negotiations go here,” she said. “I intend to stay primarily in Copenhagen and London. The decision of my family is up to them.”


    “Alright,” Jessica said, after working through a whole presentation of information. This wasn’t usually her job to perform such a low-level introduction, but the situation was appropriately unusual. “Onto the contract negotiations.” And then she’ll be free of this ridiculous situation. She still hasn’t even asked about the whole ‘there’s another world thing’, but that was way above her pay grade. Let Graham deal with that.


    “Have you any high priority utility abilities? Loot, communication, storage, portal, identification, etcetera?” Lucas produced a list and passed it to her, and she passed it to them.


    “Yup, yup, yup, yup, yup,” Nora said. “The big 5. Group looting, yup. Single person storage. System-based communication with built-in identification. Portals. Mapping. Tracking.”


    “Same here,” John said, “aside from the storage and the portal, the mapping and tracking, and my looting ability needs a medium else it’s triggered by touch. I have a more in-depth identification and analysis tool.” He held up something. A camera. “And I can heal.”


    “Right,” Jessica said. “Two utility specialists.”


    “Er, no,” Nora interrupted. “I’m a…striker. According to your chart. Sort of.”


    Striker: high mobility and offensive, ranged or melee. Then a line which asked for ‘effective range’, which said Nora had filled in as both ‘mixed’ and ‘melee’.


    It was odd, Jessica supposed, but not impossible. “Your ether combo?”


    “Dimension, Balance, Harmonic, Mystic?”


    Right. She tapped a pen. That was an unknown combination. Jessica couldn’t say whether or not those sort of abilities were common for that etheric combo. Harmonic was very rarely found, and Dimension was highly contested, and usually reserved for portal specialists.


    “And you, John? A healer, right?”


    “I won’t break any molds there,” he assured. “Life, Magic, Renewal, Immortal.”


    That was a known combination, at least.


    There were a few more finer points hashed out—the two requested a contractor contract, rather than a salaried or hourly employee. Nora wanted irregular working hours and refused to work a regular, company mandated schedule. John was similar, although for different reasons, wanting the flexibility to focus on his family as he was apart from them for over 2 years. There were other additional stipulations—all communications must have records and submitted. John was the more experienced negotiator here, handling the details for Nora, as he had years of working experience on her.


    “For wide range looters,” Jessica said, “we cannot pay out the equivalent value that you create. Instead, you are given credits to trade for from the Agency’s stores in proportional to the value you generation through looting. If you want to trade for monetary currency, that’s allowed, up to a maximum withdrawal per month, although you may request a higher withdrawal with a form. Since you’ve both requested contractor status instead of salaried employment with fixed hours, credit can be exchanged for Agency services. You are also paid your agreed upon contractor hourly rate, in minimum blocks of 3 hours, with an overtime rate. This, however, means that there are no employee family benefits, unless you’d like to trade for such a service with credits.”


    Contracts signed and business concluded, she sent them away with two large packets of information.


    “God,” she groaned. “I’m glad that’s finally over with.”


    “Do you think they told the truth about this ‘other world’?” Lucas inquired and set down another coffee to feed her addiction. At least as an integrator, she didn’t have to worry about an actual addiction or damage to her liver.


    She rubbed her forehead tiredly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what else explains their appearance. Either way, I’m going to pass out for the next 12 hours, and if Graham calls, I’m not picking up.”


    “If you say so,” said Lucas, not even hiding his disbelief.


    This time, she did. If what they said was true, she would need the sleep.