So, as you may expect from a small town general store owner and general workaholic, I've never been skydiving, or base jumping. For that matter, I don't think I've ever fallen any further than 6 feet, and that was years ago. So this predicament I find myself in didn't really imbue me with confidence.
Thankfully I wasn't the only one flustered. Sure, the man in the suit wasn't screaming in panic or generally flailing with no direction, but he wasn't calm, fear touched his eyes, even if he was spreading out to slow himself down. A good idea I decided to follow. He was clearly out of his element too, though from his conduct I had to guess that he wasn't quite as far out as I was.
Our other companions though, neither of them were panicking.
The Soldier wasn't calm, if anything I'd say he was angry. The scowl on his face had deepened, and though he seemed to be on autopilot, he didn't have any more parachutes than the rest of us. I wagered a guess this might not have been his first time falling from the sky. Maybe he was a paratrooper or something, how should I know.
But the one to surprise me was the kid. He wasn't just practiced or generally unafraid. That kid was calm, in fact, he wasn't even trying to slow himself down like the rest of us. He was adjusting himself to glide over to the man in the suit.
But does any of that really matter? I mean, I'm falling from 2 miles up with a terminal case of terminal velocity, and no real way to slow myself down. Even if I did, I'm in the middle of a forest in God knows where, with no civilization in sight and a group of equally doomed people, one of which seems to be roleplaying a soldier from well before I was born.
What's a dead man really got to worry about?
"Snap out of it!"
The Kid grabbed my shoulder, shouting into my ear. Even at full volume the wind made him hard to hear.
"Who cares kid, we're more than a little short on time here, you should probably be praying!"
"I'd rather be doing something useful! Look Up!"
Oh what the hell, not like I've ever really prayed before anyway.
So I looked up, and what I saw was both amazing, and just what I think I needed. Magic.
The soldier, he had flames shooting out of his hands and feet, making the air around him waver. He was straining with effort, and though he was currently spiraling wildly out of control, he was at the very least falling a little slower than before. In a less important note, he looked a lot less practiced doing flaming cartwheels than he did when he was just falling. And then the realization hit me, there was hope!
"What magic class did it give you?!"
The Kid shouted again, breaking me out of my amusement.
"Who? Wait, the hologram thing?"
"Yes! What did it say?!"
Wait, can I do something here too?!?
"Uh... Protector!"
"Alright, I can work with that. Listen close! You can use magic, like those two up there! I'm not getting into the specifics now, but you don't have much time to figure it out! The best way to go about it is to feel for it in your gut! Once you find it, that power you felt in the room up there, try and channel it up to your head! It'll probably give you a headache like you wouldn't believe at first, but ignore that for now! Once you get it to your head, let your mind imagine something to protect you, to save you from the fall! It won't work if you try to do what he's doing up there, it doesn't work like that!"
I think that might have raised more questions than answers honestly.
"I'll give it a shot!"
"Good! Now I've just gotta figure out something for myself!"
"Wait, you can't do magic?!"
"Could you before now?!"
"I just thought..."
Well, that isn't good. I guess I better find out how to use this magic stuff fast, I'm not the only one riding on it now.
So, I have to feel for that tingling feeling in my gut...
That feels way different from the room. The magic in that room felt like a doctor's office. It felt sterile, clean, impersonal. Like it was made to be non-problematic, functional, and professional. Like it had no soul. The magic in my gut though, it was none of that. It was fire and ice, hot passion and cold rage, it was the warm summer nights I enjoyed with a book on a hill back in my high school days. It was the biting chill of the cold when I broke down up in Canada and got stranded in the forest. It was everything I was, caring, compassionate, and messy. That magic wasn't just something I could use, it was me.
And so I took hold of that, of what felt like my very soul, and dragged it, kicking and screaming, to my head. And let me tell you. It Kicked. And by God did it scream.
My head pounded, overloaded with memories from all parts of my life, all the good and bad. And it only got worse. I could feel the magic around me, in the air. Cold and flowing through me, but catching on the magic in my head like a sail, adding to the terrifying storm in my mind, giving me brilliant views of the sunset, and uncaring views of wars, It showed me the man in a suit, now standing astride a blue rose the size of a small car, floating down peacefully like a autumn leaf. It showed me the room we came from, it's floor reappearing slowly, and the room getting darker to my mind, though no less light was there.
And I was supposed to imagine something through all of this?
Well, not like I have a choice, do or die.
And so I imagined what anyone would imagine to catch me and the kid.
And for a heartbreaking second, nothing happened.
Then the magic in my head rushed out, down my neck and across my shoulders, flowing through my arms, then shooting out of my hands wrapping around me and the kid.
And god, it hurt. It felt like it was tearing through me, like a thousand tiny drills making a million holes in my flesh. I don't think I'd be able to stay conscious if I weren't pumped full of enough adrenaline to bring me back from the dead.
But however much it hurt, it worked. The wind around me and the kid was slowing, and above us was something that was supposed to be a parachute, but it seems the magic decided it would be dense air, catching more and more, slowing us down to a crawl relative to our former speed.
And just in time too, cause the ground got uncomfortably close the next time I looked down. The tree tops were passing as we fell into a forest clearing, lucky for us I'd say. Me and the kid landed first, and I for one needed a moment to wind down from the excitement.
A nearby crash marked the arrival of the soldier, and the kid had to walk him through putting out the fire he caused with some water. Wouldn't do to burn to death after surviving that fall would it. The soldier, after cleaning up his mess, finally seemed to realize what just happened, and his jaw dropped. He needed a minute just to sit down and process. I'm going to guess his experience with magic wasn't like mine, cause I didn't need to understand magic anymore, I knew what it was.
Bringing up the last of us to the ground, the man in a suit's mid-sized blue rose sedan landed softly in the clearing, and he stepped off of it with grace. He'd managed to recover his handkerchief, and he'd already fixed his tie. I thought I saw him slipping a comb into one of his many pockets, but I couldn't say for sure.
He started talking with the kid, I didn't bother to pay attention, the adrenaline was wearing off and I felt sick as a dog. It took me a few minutes to recover, so long so that the soldier finished processing magic by the time I had emptied last nights dinner.
For a long few moments, we all stood looking at each other. The soldier was taking us in as potential enemies, as far as I could tell. He definitely didn't trust us. The man in a suit wasn't much better, he was looking at me hungrily, like I was something he just had to have. The kid was looking around patiently, having obviously already sized us up. I had to guess he was waiting on us, so I decided I'd be the first to finish staring around.
"So, this was one hell of a wake up call."
I broke the silence, looking to the soldier. I figured maybe some common ground might help ease tensions some. And, thankfully, I was right.
"Yeah... It wasn't the army bugle, that's for sure. I don't know where we are, or who y'all are, or what exactly just happened, but seeing that y'all seem as confused as I do, I don't think you were in on it."
The man in a suit spoke up, putting a hand to his chest in what I assumed to be mocked insult.
"Sir, I'm quite certain I don't look as confused as I am, I'd have you take that back!"
The kid stepped in before any of the rest of us could speak.
"So, before we keep up with any pointless banter, I propose an alliance. All of us seem to be brought here for some sort of experiment by the people in that room, and from what I can tell, we aren't all from the same time. Maybe not even the same world."
He eyed the man in the suit.
"I'll start off with an introduction, and a small explanation. My name is Nigel Victor, I'm from Ohio in the U.S., 2021. Before I came here, I was rather unremarkable, but I was given the magic class: Null. Contrary to the idea, it doesn't allow me to use magics, like you all do. Rather, it enhanced my physical prowess and cognitive abilities. I'll be frank, I was on deaths door before I got here, and I'm not sure why this "Goddess" chose me. I can only assume pity, but even then I'm unsure if I deserve it. I'm hoping we can all work together to find out more about this "Goddess" and why we're here. And if you all wish, maybe even find a way to get you all home."
There was a moment where everyone thought. The kid, Nigel, was sincere. He meant all of it. And I'm not against working with him, but the other two worry me. Before I could say anything though, the man in the suit stepped forward.
"After some thought, and though before I was planning on leaving to see what in this world I could claim as a path to power, I believe an alliance of sorts with you three would be in my best interests. I am Johnathan Royce, CEO of Soul Searchers Incorporated. I don't believe me and Nigel to be from the same time or place, as in my world the state of Ohio, along with most of the Eastern half of the United States, was made into a radioactive wasteland after the soviets escalated in Cuba. I am from the Californian Corporatocracy. In fact, I was a founding member. But that matters little now. I have the magic class: Tyrant."
Before I could voice my concern to the class's name, Nigel spoke up again.
"The class isn't what it seems, it allows him to demand aid from legendary people from the past of this world by using his mana to force a very short contract onto them. Usually it results in a single spell or action, though it uses most of his mana to do so. He'd struggle to do more than 3 in a minute, I'd say."
Getting a moment to speak, I began
"That name doesn't really tell about the effects, does it. Either way, my name is James Mayer, I'm a small business owner in Tennessee. Other than that, I don't really know how to describe myself. My magic class is Protector though."
I looked to Nigel, and he spoke up to clarify, though it turns out it didn't need much clarification.
"It's a class that only allows him to cast magic meant to protect himself or others."
I turned my attention to the last of our group. The soldier. He looked skeptically at the rest of the group, before he sighed, a long and deep one. He relaxed, at least a little bit, before he spoke up.
"I'm Glen Arnold, a sergeant in the army. I was on my way home from fighting the japs, hear they surrendered, but the ruskies were still roughin' 'em up in China so what do I know. I got the magic class: Brute, whatever that means, I'm sure our resident brainiac knows a little more than I do."
Nigel spoke up.
"It's a class that's the diametric opposite to James's. It only allows him to cast magic offensively. With that, it seems we're all in agreement. And because we are allied now."
He looked to the rest of us.
"You all suck at using your magic."
We all tried speaking at once.
"Hold you're horses, I almost had a hang of that fire booster thing you had me doin'!"
"I think I did alright, it did what I asked."
"I'd take offense sir, that seems like an insult."
He put up his hands in mock surrender, trying to get us to get quiet again.
"Your results were all fine, but how you got them is the problem. James, you used all of your magic, at once. Which is probably why you feel like you just got hit by a truck, and why you basically had your life flash before your eyes. You even managed to draw in mana from the surrounding air, but without the proper control it actually sabotaged your spell, hence why your parachute was made of air. It's not the brightest Idea to go all out like that so often, from what I can see it could kill you."
Well, that is certainly a concern I wasn't sure I'd have to deal with. I thought it was all just stress and adrenaline, but if magic is so dangerous... I should probably get a little practice in.
"Glen, you have the opposite problem. You used so little mana that your spell ended up hard to control, but you probably feel better now than you did before you used it. If you'd used more mana, you wouldn't feel that nice buzz, but you probably would have had wings of fire, or at least more controllable boosters, rather than the sputtering mess they were."
Glen went from angry to frustrated to thoughtful, all in a few seconds while Nigel spoke. This kid really knows how to explain this stuff.
"As for you, John, you see yourself too highly. Your magic doesn't cast spells like these two, it reaches out to others. If you keep seeing them as stepping stones and inferior, you'll never improve. Not to mention you'll never get any of them to work for you twice without a whole lot of effort."
John looked... Frustrated. It's hard to place what that man is thinking, but he's definitely chewing on some idea.
Then all our thoughts were interrupted, as a growl and a crash sounded out behind Glen. A set of glowing eyes and a tuft of white fur was all we saw before the bear came crashing through the brush and into the four of us.