Hope does not exist without the unwavering spirit of bravery, Shawn. That was what you told me so long ago. I wish I'd known what you meant, back then.
A young man gazed at his phone's home screen, displaying an image of a teenage girl, smiling for a camera shot with a dark-haired female with matching blue eyes. Both of them posing goofily for a camera shot he'd taken a long time ago. He traced his thumb over the splash screen of his phone, smiling faintly.
"Shawn, stop gawking at your phone! It's a weekend, your new tech isn't going to make waves overnight!" He glanced up to see the dark-haired girl from the photo leaning across the cheap black plastic patio table, a quizzical expression etched on her face.
"But it might!" Shawn laid down his phone on a sunny, early fall day, sitting at an outdoor cafe in Northampton, and he couldn't help but smile. Across from him was his cousin, peering intensely at him. "Think about it, Claire. It could make history. On-demand sintered metal printing, anywhere in the world? It's a big deal. Medical tools, parts for critical infrastructure, you name it! All you need is a blueprint, the right materials, and a little creativity. It's gonna change everything!"
"Shawn, it'll be years before the patents clear. Your company is tiny. They took a gamble on you," she laughed, leaning in. "Hey, I'm glad we caught up. How've you been?"
"I've been doing alright. Good, actually." He took a sip of coffee, and ruffled his unkempt, hair. "I've just been working a lot." It really showed, since this was his third cup of coffee of the day, and he still felt fatigue. Maybe he could stand to work a little less.
Claire laughed in response. "You need to take more time for yourself, you know that? I know you love your job, but you need a social life!"
"I have one. Look, you might laugh at my wilderness treks, but they're fun for me!" he proclaimed.
"That is the opposite of being social, workaholic. That's like, hermit training!" she declared with a finger wag. "When's the last time you went on a date? Sheesh, I swear you've been like this since college!" she tousled his hair with her long reach, and he grumbled irritably.
"Hey, it wasn't that long ago! Only…a month?" He sighed when he rubbed the bridge of his nose. She rolled her eyes at his less than convincing protest.
"That's my point, genius. Get out more often, with people! and not machines. Or spending three days solo backpacking in the wilderness, hell just bring a friend next time!" Claire leaned back, looking content. "Anyway, glad you could make it to lunch. I ran into your mom when I was out in town yesterday, by the way."
"You did?"
"Yeah, I know, right? We got to talking, she mentioned you, and…" she trailed off. "Shawn, you know, she worries that you haven't been going to your sessions–"
"I'm fine, Claire," he pushed back lightly. "I'm fine, really."
"You know you can talk to me about stuff that's bothering you," she said in a slight change of tactics. "Why are you burying yourself in work? You don't have anything to prove, you've done incredible work. You look like you might have slept in those clothes!"
Oh, I actually did. He'd been up late working on a project, and just hadn't bothered. "Alright, you tell me what you think it is."
She cleared her throat, their discussion sounding muted with the sound of other diner nearby, on this near-perfect fall day. "You're doing all this to create distractions for yourself, Shawn. To put something out of your mind. I think I know what."
"Maggie." He tapped a finger softly on the table, his voice no longer carrying confidence. Only regret. "You know its almost ten years, now? I've tried not to give it much thought. I was doing good for a while. Then, mom mentioned it last week. I haven't been able to get it out of my head since."
She nodded quietly. "I know it's hard. I know you blame yourself, and it wasn't your fault. You dove in without thinking for your safety, and you had a near-death experience. You came out barely alive. Even ten years isn't always enough to accept things like that."
He let out a soft sigh. "Yeah, that's where my thoughts keep going back to, all week, which is why I was up till two in the morning, working. My sister is gone, Claire. The ten-year mark is closer than I'd like, and I still can't get that moment out of my head, under the ice." Even now, he could remember that soul-crushing cold. He could feel it, closing in.
"That's what your mom was worried about. You're burying yourself in work--in distractions." She tilted her head to the side. "Hey, you know something? I think you need to take a break. I think you need to hang out with people. Not machines, not hobbies, not obsessions. People. You need to take a vacation, and I'm going with some friends on a long weekend, next week at a family cabin, southern Vermont. I want you to come along, socialize, make good food like you always do! Hell, maybe even tell someone other than your cat about the cool stuff you work on!"
His mood brightened a little at that. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to decouple from distractions. "Okay, you know what, I'll take your advice. I'll pack a bag. Count me in. Maybe I could stand to do something other than think about an unchanging past."
"There ya go!" she beamed, her eyes brightening. "Hey, I miss Maggie, too. I loved that infectious enthusiasm she had, that unrelenting energy. You can do that, too! But use it to socialize, not bury yourself in a mechanical lab! Also--wait, do you hear something?" She squinted and looked at him--no, looked downward, at the table. He followed her gaze.
Shawn blinked as the air shimmered above the patio table, and there was a crackle of energy. Claire pointed to a small blue sphere, the size of a marble, that had appeared from nowhere, shimmering with light. The sound of a hummingbird's wings filled the air.
"Um…what is that?" She was fascinated and craned her body to examine the anomaly.
"Claire, it's a ball of something, floating over the table. Don't touch it, first rule of science horror films," he cautioned, and slid his chair back.
"That's not a rule, you just made that up!" she protested, yet made no attempt to move. More worryingly, that humming was getting louder. A few people were turning around to look in curiosity, a low commotion building. He'd already bumped his chair and grabbed his bag to get away from the thing. "I wonder if this is a like a...hologram? No wait, it's probably a portal like in those isekai animes. Or, maybe a wormhole."
"Claire, seriously move," he repeated. "You have no idea what it is." Worse still, was a low sense of something familiar about this.
The plunge. The abyssal cold, seeping into his soul.
Maggie, three feet away in the water, flailing, on the verge of drowning. Then he blinked, and she was--what did he see, back then?
"Okay, I'm gonna stick a fork in it, and see what science tells me about its reaction with physical matter, enginerd!" Claire shook him out of his distraction, and he watched in horror as she attempted to touch the anomaly with the utensil. He knew he'd made a fatal mistake, challenging her knowledge. Because she would always set to prove someone wrong.
"Claire, no!" His shrill warning came too late.
The second she did, the ball of light expanded to a shimmering blue disc. Claire, and the table, vanished in a flare of light.
They were gone. He felt his pulse skyrocket, and there were shouts around him. He gripped his bag, his knuckles bone white. He tried to process what he'd seen.
A circle of blue. just like the one in front of him. He saw it, in that instant.
Just like Maggie. Gone without a trace. No body. She was never found. They searched for weeks. Post traumatic stress drove him back to that moment when his body was shutting down from the cold. Maggie, flailing, reaching to him, in the water.
Then a blue ring of light behind her. That pleading look. Then she was gone. Then he woke up a day later after taking a lungful of water and nearly died.
There were shouts around him. People screaming for the police. and that eerie, deep blue sphere, five feet away, was still giving off that hum of energy.
It's a portal. The same thing as before, I've seen it! He gripped his bag tightly, feet tensed on the ground. He'd been three feet away from Maggie when he lost her. He was not letting fear and weakness stopping him from taking care of his family.
"Hey, Miss, if I don't come back out of this thing, you tell them Shawn Pentecost went to follow his cousin, Claire Ryker! I have a cat at 230 East Street that's gonna need a new home, in case I don't make it back!" he called out to their waitress, who'd dropped her tray from the shock. Four tenths of a second later, he dashed into the aperture. He felt nothing, and saw nothing but bright blue light.
Except, for the notion he was hurtling to an unknown location at incredible speed over vast distances being crossed in the blink of an eye.
The next thing he saw was a stone slab floor with glowing blue runes coming up to greet him as he winked back into existence, and he slammed into the unyielding ground with the weight of his body. He wheezed as his chest took the impact, only slightly mitigated by his outstretched arms, and he curled into a ball, groaning.
Whoever isekaied us, should have thought about a better landing site.
Shawn winced and held his ribs, aching from the impact. The blue, spherical portal behind him, rippling like water, was rapidly dimming and shrinking in size. The room was composed of steel girder and slab stone, possibly concrete. Below him, he spotted a smooth cold stone shaped in a perfect circle. He glanced to his side, and let out a cry of relief.
Claire was beside him, groaning as she, too, held her ribs from the impact of being dumped on the ground. "What…what just happened?" she asked, eyes shut and her mouth clamped in a suppressed expression of pain. "My whole existence hurts."
"Same." He gritted his teeth and dared to move. His ribs didn't feel broken, but that pounding ache wasn't going away anytime soon. Or the feeling like someone had just taken a grinding wheel to his entire body. He let out an exhale, and propped himself up on the icy cold floor. "Claire we need to move, that blue portal thing is–"
With a puff of air that frazzled his wavy brown hair, the spherical blue portal winked out of reality and doused the room they had landed inside, in utter darkness.
"...Collapsing," she finished, while he rubbed at his ribs gingerly. He grunted before grabbing his phone from his pocket, and activated the flashlight torch. He shone the flashlight over her, wincing at the bright light. She propped herself up and peered at him. "Okay, I might have made a mistake, there."
"You stuck a fork into an aperture, which then yoinked us from Northampton," he responded edgily. That buzzing in his brain was finally a dull white noise. His flashlight shone across the smooth slab floor. There was not a single imperfection on the surface. He helped Claire to her feet, wobbling unsteadily. "I'm about ninety-five percent sure on that one." He panned the flashlight outwards--and saw the patio table, tilted on its side. They were standing on a stone floor, and he could make out runic symbols etched in, now that he was looking closer. A faint glow emanated from the angular shapes, written in a language he had never seen before. He knelt and traced the strange symbols, a tingle of static connecting his finger, to the rune in the floor.
But the glow faded, as did the tingling sensation until he could feel nothing but the cold, dry air of the room. He rose and panned the flashlight in a circle, taking in the sights, while she peered around, frowning.
"How do people portal?" she asked shakily. "It took you several seconds to show up."
"I jumped in, after you," he replied. She raised an eyebrow. "Don't give me that look. I had to go after you."
She shrugged. "Well, let it never be said that you aren't lacking bravery. Huh. Do you know something?" She gestured to the room, looking inspired by the design. "This gothic architecture inside a science lab, would feel right at home in a Wolfenstein game. Creative, and possibly ominous," she muttered. Instruments, beakers, what he suspected were power cells, and other devices were stored in open cabinets and neatly arranged on metal and wood tables. The labeled items were ever arranged alphabetically.
"Claire? Let's figure out where we are, first." He directed her attention to the room, and the device in the middle of the chamber, the portal origin point. A set of three claw like spires rose from the floor, made of the same material as the stone. They, too, possessed faint runic markings that glowed ever so slightly, and he pivoted the light slowly. It had the appearance of a bird's talons.
"This is a little weird, right? You'd think someone being transmigrated across the cosmos would be big news, and people would be waiting." She walked to a bench, examining a glass vial, and frowning at the label. "Nightshade acetate?" He kept examining the room. The ceiling tapered to a peak above them, with curved beams that gave way to deeply faceted architecture. He noted a catwalk set arranged above, where various tubing and wiring were arrayed, going to the numerous workstations. But, no computers, at a glance. He glanced at the triple spires, noting the wires leading up to the stone slab that rose from the floor.
He finally spotted one doorway, a set of metal-clad doors with a simple latch. "I see an exit up that slight ramp. We should go try to find someone."
"Shawn, we were just kidnapped into thin air!" She clamped his shoulder, looking at him worriedly. "Your response is disturbingly muted."
"I saw that portal once before." Her face twisted into puzzlement at his stark conclusion.
"Say that again? You just so happened to see a magical portal, when?"
"I think I saw it once before. It was…when I was under the water. I couldn't reach Maggie. I think I was shutting down from the cold. I saw her…and then, before things went fuzzy…I saw a circle of blue."
She finished his thought. "You saw a portal? This one?!"
"I don't know. But I do know one thing with absolute certainty: They never found her…remains." He shuddered at having to use that word.
"I–"
She never finished thought before the door on the far side slammed open. He saw a figure silhouetted against the bright light shining in–someone exceedingly broad and tall. he saw the silhouette expand–then there was nothing, but the light from the open door. It didn't last long, as the door swung closed, bathing the room in darkness, except for their flashlights.
"I didn't see it. Where'd they go?" Claire whispered.
"Stay put." He heard the rustling of something in the room. Light clicking sounds. Then another sound, soft, like a breeze. He listened intently, keeping his flashlight low to the ground.
The sound wasn't at ground level. It was above them. He pointed upwards with one finger. Her eyes widened, and he kept the flashlight low to the ground. He heard the continued click of something nearby–like the sound of cat claws on a hardwood floor. Maybe the catwalks he'd seen earlier?
He took a calculated risk. "We're not armed. We don't know why we're here." He directed his voice in the calmest way he could.
Claire followed the subtle tilt of his head and peered upward. He could hear the rustle of something. Like the wingbeats of a flock of startled birds at the park.
"Where did you come from?" A female voice called out softly, above them–like someone had taken birdsong, and given it a human voice. He heard more sharp clicks. Then a crackle of energy, and the room lit up dimly. He took that as his cue to tilt his head upwards, slowly.
A glowing spear approximately a meter long, appearing as if it was made of pure light, was aimed at him. The weapon's soft glow illuminated someone above them–a humanoid figure, draped in robes, standing on the catwalk, their body tensed like an Olympic athlete preparing a spear throw. He couldn't see their lower body, obscured by paneling above them. The person wore snow-white robes that went from head to foot, but were well-tailored, with a small sunburst embroidered in gold thread on the chest. A cowl obscured their face, but he could make out platinum white hair drifting out, and a gleam of golden eyes peering down. They held the spear of energy poised and aimed at his chest, with deadly intent.
Not human hands. Okay, I'm about three seconds away from being killed by someone with an energy weapon, who speaks English. What's the first thing I say? He rapidly ran through the bits of information he could glean. This lab was advanced and well maintained by somebody organized. Someone with considerable intelligence, given the complexity and cleanliness of the lab. Someone, who likely, could be reasoned with.
"We came through a portal. We ended up here. Your portal, presumably?" He kept his hands in the air while gesturing softly to the metal and stone device. Her gaze never left him, but he saw a shift of eyes, widening in surprise.
"Yes, my design. But also, impossible." He heard the slightest hesitation in her voice.
"Why?"
"Because I tried it a week ago…and I failed." The bright spear tip wavered in the air, ever so gently.
"You're capable of portal technology? It doesn't exist, where we come from." Claire interjected, trying her best to look composed. "We haven't even figured out how to create a bridge between points."
"That's not all." Shawn still made no motion, except to gaze directly at the observer. "You speak our language. This laboratory shows great care and organization. You either have advanced tech, or magic that fills in the gaps of what is possible in physics. I'd say, you're someone of a creative mind, someone I need to talk to, about these portals. And, what they mean to me," Shawn concluded, after putting it all together in a pitch to not be summarily stabbed by a stranger from another world.
The spear tip nudged downward, the woman's voice carrying a lower, more somber note. "You'll be left disappointed. This was my last attempt to send out a portal. I failed."
"You didn't fail. I saw another portal before this." He saw a shift of golden eyes, arching in surprise.
He had her undivided attention. "Explain." The weapon didn't waver, but she also hadn't made him into a shish kabob…yet.
"Ten years ago, I saw one of your portals, a shimmering blue sphere or annular disc." He took a deep breath. Did he dare to tip his hand now? He needed to buy her trust. But, he was also worried that, if what he saw then was real…then, did she also take his sister? And if she did…why? She tilted her head, curious.
He was going to fish for information.
"The portal took someone, and then it snapped shut." He hoped Claire wouldn't give it away, but he saw the subtlest tip of her chin out of the corner of his eye when she figured out what he was doing. "Why are your portals taking people off of my planet?"
"That…was not my portal. Someone else summoned a noteworthy individual to their cause."
The light spear dimmed, then disincorporated into floating motes of light. They held together a second before they disappeared into the dark ambiance of the room. Shawn let out the quietest breath of his life–even if this was the truth, it was a dread all of its own. It confirmed two disturbing things:
The first: what he remembered was not an aberration or a false memory constructed as a method of coping. He'd seen it. He hadn't imagined it.
The second: His sister, Maggie, could be here, in this world. He had the first strand of hope he didn't realize he'd needed for a long time, and it took all his effort to not let out a cry of absolute joy.
He took another calculated move. "So, you're not the only one who can create those portals." The figure dipped their head lightly, their body posture relaxed now.
"No. There are others who can." The figure on the catwalk opened a clawed hand, and a softer, more benevolent ball of light appeared in her hand, Illuminating the room. The glowing globule floated as if carried by an air current, and drifted to the center of the room. Upon contacting a metal framed chandelier the device blazed with light and life, giving the room a golden glow like old incandescent bulbs, and showed the arcane lab in greater detail.
But he didn't have long to contemplate it. The woman mantled over the catwalk, and down onto the laboratory floor. His eyes widened at the spectacle that followed.
Massive white wings emerged from the woman's back, through a clever opening in the backing of her white robes. The wings appeared like a raptor species, lengthy and muscular, with teal highlights at the feather tips on either side. Her descent was cushioned dramatically by her wings. He had no parallel on Earth to match that grace, and otherworldly appearance.
It wasn't just the wings. She had poised delicately with clawed feet–like a bird or a raptor, with widely spread toes. They were tensioned against the floor, ending in yellowed, scalelike flesh. Intricate footwraps wove around the toes and traced up her feathered leg, disappearing into the robes. It was much the same on her feathered arms, human-like, but with short, bird-like talons on each of the three fingers, and an opposable thumb. She slowly slipped her hood back.
A tuft of feathers adorned where her hair would be–a whole crest of snowy white feathers that formed an accented crown with a few green highlights, almost like certain bird species. Her eyes were that of a raptor, glowing golden, and her lips formed a short, but versatile beak. Her limbs were lean and powerful–the thin feathers on the limb did not hide the accomplished athletics beneath them, and she shook the feathers as they poofed outward. "Well now, I do believe introductions are in order!"
He had zero preparation for this scenario. "I uh…kinda prepared myself for something surreal, and my mental preparations still fell woefully short." His anxiety was only being kept in check by his fascination with this discovery, and he offered an open hand. "Shawn Pentecost, of Earth. Greetings."
The woman peered at him with curiosity, feathers ruffling on her cheeks, before her beak creased slightly in a smile. "Well, not the worst introduction I've ever heard. Telga, the Radiant of Balance." She shook his hand firmly after a second of hesitation, the banded scales of her hand feeling warm, and firm, and she expertly avoided nicking him with her claws. Her curious gaze shifted to Claire. "You? You look like family members. Apologies if you're not extraordinary–I don't think I've had a case where I picked up two at once."
"I'm his cousin, Claire Ryker." She was more hesitant about extending a hand but did so after a gentle nudge from him. "I'm a chemist, martial artist, and occasional head check for this madman, with his engineering prowess and crazy ideas."
"Hey, I'm not crazy. Just my ideas," he shrugged, even as Telga smiled.
"Well, I like her introduction better," Telga said with a quick clack of her beak–that almost sounded like a chuckle. "I wish the circumstances of your arrival could have been more opportune."
Shawn took that as his cue that all was not well, wherever they were. "I'm guessing there's a reason for the lack of celebration? Where are we, anyway?"
Telga gestured to the laboratory. "Welcome to Remaria, the Hallowed World. And it's a world that is on the brink unless I can do something about it, soon."
Shawn spent three seconds processing this–a brand new world? "What do you mean, it's on the brink?"
"It's a long story." She curled her clawed fingers tightly and winced–a very human-like reaction. "I tried something I vowed I would never do again, thirty years ago: to summon a champion for my cause."
Maggie was taken ten years ago. Assuming she's not lying–and I don't know why she would, considering I could have been a human shish kabob–then someone else grabbed her. But was it for this same reason? A champion for their cause? He pondered it for a second while he nodded thoughtfully. Okay Shawn, tread lightly. Find more answers, first. I also need to make sure Claire does not spill this info, either.
Claire appeared contemplative before speaking. "So, do you guys just grab a bunch of randos from the universe regularly?"
"Hardly," Telga scoffed. "The magic always brings people with immense potential. She motioned toward the door. "Come with me. There's a lot to talk about. I may also have some questions–goodness, things must have changed substantially since I last brought someone! They wouldn't stop talking about this form of entertainment called…war of the stars? Or something like that."
"Definitely. Just don't point any more sharp, energy-based implements my way. I'm more sociable when I'm not facing immense danger." Shawn didn't waste a heartbeat and motioned Claire to follow the avian toward the door, and Claire called out that she grabbed his bag--their only items from earth, and slung it over her shoulder.
Whatever came next, he held a hope reignited by chance, that had nearly died out over the past ten years. He had an opportunity to find Maggie…and get her home.
He heard a slight clicking outside the door as he reached to open it–was someone else there, on taloned feet? He unlatched it, swung the door inward, and gasped.
Another female avian with bright blue teal feathers, dressed in a dark uniform and fabric vest recoiled when she saw him. But the shock was replaced by action as she drew a revolver-style weapon from a holster on her thigh, and snapped it upwards to aim at his chest.