Eric

The next morning, Al woke up refreshed.

His body still ached all over, and some of the cuts had reopened, staining the bed sheet red. Still, there was an undeniable energy in his body that he could hardly control, so jumping to his feet, he winced due to the pain and opened the window.

The Gods had been kind enough to allot two windows to each house. The sun poured in, its golden shafts gleaming in the air as dust motes swirled about, gaily playing a game of hide and seek. His heart felt light, his mind was sharp, and although his body could be better, Al decided that he wouldn't let anything bring him down today.

'It's the day of my second odyssey!'

The thought gave him so much excitement that he felt like jumping in the air, but knowing the agony that would be waiting for him when he came back to the ground, he squashed that idea and began his morning duties.

While he was going about them, he tried to identify the reason behind his excitement.

'Is it because I like thwarting the plans of heroes? Or is it because I love strutting around confidently, completely in control of the situation? No… They don't sound right. Maybe… it's just because the dream of using magic that I share with so many in the world is going to come true?'

He couldn't reach a decision, but that last thought made him recall all the time he had spent reading, reading, and reading. He had been given a book at the age of eight, and he hadn't looked back once. They helped him through the toughest times in his life, aiding him even when all hope seemed lost. For him, every book was a world waiting to be explored, and he loved plunging into each and discovering as much as he could. 'Before the descent of the gods, I might have been called a useless geek… but who's laughing now?', he thought, chuckling, as he finished making breakfast and wolfed it down as quickly as he could.

A few minutes later, he was once again walking on the road leading back to the teleportation station. It was rush hour, so the streets were packed.

Men, women, and children jostled him around, making him bite his lips each time a lance of pain went through his body, but he didn't let out a sound. A curse escaped his lips, though, when he felt a hand curl around his neck and squeeze tight.

"OW! Who the-"

It stopped when he saw that it belonged to a blond man whose hair was done up like a peacock. He was wearing a jacket that matched the shade on his head, which garishly clashed against the blue jeans and shirt that he had also chosen for some reason.

"Hey, hey, hey! Guess who was gifted a 'Spell of Infinite Arousal' by his uncle? Yup, it's me! Wait…what happened to you?"

His words made the people around them shoot strange glances in their direction, and Al felt his cheeks getting hot as he remembered the definition of the spell. He had memorized them all so thoroughly that he could recite them even in his sleep, but for once, he wished that he hadn't done so.

'Spell of Infinite Arousal: Bestowed by the God of Lust. When used, the user remains in a physically aroused state until his Grace runs out. Grace Usage: Low. Rarity: Low.'

Shrugging away the hand, he said, "Nothing. Are you headed to the odyssey station, too?"

It was called by many names, but this was the one most commonly used.

"Nope, I was going to your house but your lanky ass can be seen a kilometer away! And don't 'nothing' me… I had dad check your result. The scores were hidden, but you passed! I didn't call you 'cos I thought you might be tired. You have to tell me everything! And how's mom? What's the first thing she said after waking up? I bet she must have asked about the daring hunk Eric, right?"

The question made him pause, and all of a sudden, tears almost filled his eyes. Yet, as he quickly recalled the book, he managed to stop them in their tracks and raise his head to look toward the future.

He had initially decided to spin some fake story, but looking into the concerned eyes of his childhood friend, Al sighed and realized that there was no way that he could tell the lie convincingly.

"Alright, but not here. Too many nosy ears around. I'll tell you later. We can catch up at night… after I finish my second odyssey."

"Screw that! You're coming with me. Dad said he wants to gift you something. You know how stingy the old man is…so when he offers something, its best to just accept without asking any questions. Come on!"

'A gift? But…'

Eric's smiling face convinced him. With a nod, he let himself be lead in a different direction.

All teleportation stations were merely cordoned off platforms. Hence, there usually wasn't much fanfare around them…but their destination was different.

Housed in a small building made out of shining ivory, its door had two guards in suits standing in front of it, shooting menacing looks at all those who passed it. Like most of the cities of New Earth, it was mashed in between tall buildings with almost no place between them, but it stood out all the same as it was single-storied, as opposed to the hundreds of floors that were present in the others.

The guards smiled graciously when they saw Eric. They looked at him suspiciously, though, which led to him brushing his hair back and looking away.

"Since I've known you, you always do that when you're nervous. Chill! You two! Apologize to my friend."

Al opened his mouth to say that it wasn't necessary, but one of the guards spoke before he was able to get a word out.

"Apologies, Master Eric. And my since apologies to you, too, sir. Please enter."

Eric nodded, satisfied, but Al just sighed and entered the door that was opened for them.

'No matter how many times I tell him, he still likes to fight my battles.'

Shaking his head, he followed his friend through a narrow corridor to the teleportation podium which was decorated gaudily with sculptures and paintings all around it. Waving his hand in front of an object like a keypad on the wall, he stepped forth and waited for Al to follow.

Bracing himself, Al entered the podium…and closed his eyes, waiting, knowing what would come next.

As a faint breeze lifted his hair, he took in a deep breath and inadvertently smiled.

Compared to the stuffy air of the city, this felt like heaven. Opening his eyes, he gazed at the pristine garden in front of him…and the towering mansion that could be seen, off in the distance.

Made of solid, grey stone, it had two tall towers that rose to the sky and a domed center that took up most of the space. In front of him, the path that led to the entrance of the mansion passed through at least an acre of grass, trees, and flowers that were all arrayed artistically to be pleasing to the eye.

Al had always loved the walk to Eric's home, but as he took a step forward, he felt his friend grab him by the shoulder and pull him back.

"Wait."

Puzzled, he followed his gaze to the sky…and saw a man in the air, flying.

His eyes went wide as the figure clothed in crimson, flowing robes slowed, then stopped, before slowly floating down to where they stood.

"The Spell of…Flight. He mastered it so quickly?"

"Of course! The old man is never wrong about talent. Come on. Time to fly!"

Instead of landing, the man neared them and raised his hand.

Letting out a gasp, Al suddenly felt gravity drop away. He floated into the air, stumbling and waving his hands and legs about due to the novelty of the sensation, but his face was filled with glee.

"Come. The Master awaits."

The man's face was masked, so Al couldn't see his features. With a wave of his hand, he made them all fly in the direction of the mansion.

Al enjoyed every second of it. It was hard to smoothly hold his body in a vertical position like the one casting the spell, but he did his best. The time to land seemed to come all too soon, so as he dropped to the ground, he sighed with disappointment.

"Don't worry, son. Soon, you'll be able to do it, too!"

A strong voice made him turn around to see that a middle-aged man leaning on a walking stick was standing in front of the large double-doors of the mansion. His hair was grey, his skin wrinkled, but at once, Al's eyes went to the feature that stood out most on his face.

A cleft lip.

For a moment, the old man's face seemed to merge with its version that he had flipped through in his book the night before, but then…as he had done so many times before, he put away the hate, and smiled.