Chapter 15: Chapter 14: Reunion

“Wait, you better not tell me I’ve gotta thank you for the kiss.”

Almost two weeks of silence, and the second thing out of his mouth was giving them shit. Cole grinned. “Hell no, we drew straws and Miles lost – poor bastard.”

“Lost?” Miles shook his head with a devious chuckle. “I personally reckon it’s more like won. Full Diddy, no pause.” He sat down beside Mack and gave him a good-natured shove on the shoulder. “For real though, it’s damn good to see you up an’ kickin’.”

Ethan stepped forward and clasped the man’s hand. For a moment his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes – that same look whenever he thought about his family back home; that facade of a smile that often accompanied funerals. But he caught himself and got it right for Mack. “Glad you’re awake, man.”

“Fuckin’ A, bro.” Mack’s voice was rough but the relief was clear. “Been hearing voices for… shit, I don’t even know how long. Good to actually see y’all too.”

He glanced around the room, finally recognizing the glowing runes on the walls and the magic AC units strewn throughout. “But uh… you seein’ this shit? Tell me I’m not dreaming right now. One of the docs told me we’re in some Kingdom of Celdorne, and that I’m a… a hero?”

Mack looked between them. He brightened up a bit, despite how much he looked like shit. “This an isekai?”

Cole nodded. “Sure is.”

“Huh.” A grin started to spread on Mack’s face, then caught halfway as he laid eyes on Ethan. Hell of a juxtaposition – Ethan forcing a smile to reach his eyes while Mack couldn’t keep his smile from showing in them. “How long has it been?”

“‘Bout twelve days,” Miles said. “Most of that spent waitin’ on your ass to wake up.”

“Well, and learning some new tricks.” Ethan raised his hand. A small flame sparked to life above his palm.

Mack stared at it, mouth hanging wide open. “No fucking way.” He tried to push himself up for a better look, grimaced. “You can do all that?”

“All that and then some.” Cole could hardly help the smug pride leaking through his voice. “Basic elements – the Avatar kind – barriers, strengthening magic. Apparently it’s anything we can picture. Like that hyperphantasia thing you told me about.”

“You mean I could–?” Mack didn’t even finish the thought. He glanced at Ethan before tempering his response. “That’s… kinda insane.”

“Yeah,” Cole nodded. “Once you’re back on your feet. Apparently we all have the capacity for it – something about the summoning ritual modifying our biology.”

“Huh?”

“We all got a new organ,” Ethan offered with a more genuine smile this time. “Mana gland. Insane shit, gotta admit. Produces and stores mana, supposedly. And let’s us do shit the ‘magicians’ in Vegas wished they could do.”

“Holy shit. Damn. That’s fuckin’… Uh, surely there’s a catch to that, though, right?” Mack was clearly holding back his inner nerd for Ethan’s sake. “One of the docs told me we’re here to play hero. Fill me in, yeah?”

“Well, ya ain’t wrong ‘bout the catch.” Miles shifted forward. “Take a look out that window. Damn purdy sight, ain’t it? Alexandria, capital of Celdorne. ‘Parently they got themselves a demon problem – like, big bad Demon Lord fixin’ to come through in the next few years. Real Sauron type shit. And that’s where we come in.”

“Classic ‘defeat the Demon Lord’, huh? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Almost didn’t,” Miles said. “They had their pick: some Japanese kid with some time manipulation ‘Talent’, some fancy bookworm from a whole other damn world, few others too. Lucky for us, they picked right. Otherwise? Hell, we’d still be in Khaldat, bleedin’ out in the dirt.”

“Turned out they picked righter than we knew,” Ethan chuckled. “Buncha demons tried to take us out in our sleep – day fucking one, mind you. Don’t think that kid would’ve survived that one. Sure as hell bet that scholar wouldn’t have.”

“Demons? On day one?” Mack asked. Cole had the exact same reaction when they came knocking on his door. “Thought you said it was still a few years before the Demon Lord arrived?”

“Hah!” Miles barked out a laugh. “Wish it were the case. Turns out they ain’t waitin’ for their boss. Or their boss came early. Either way, these weren’t even normal demons neither – not accordin’ to the locals. New type. Mimics. Look just like human ‘til ya kill ‘em. Hit us up at midnight, playin’ knight. Almost had us too.”

Cole frowned. The memory wasn’t exactly pleasant – most certainly not the part when he got grabbed like he dropped the soap. “Yeah. We’d set up for them, fatal funnel. Not very fatal when you’re fighting, uh, those big guys from Resident Evil.”

“Tyrants?” Mack offered.

“Yeah, Tyrants. Bastards soaked up 5.45 like nothing,” Cole continued. “It took damn near everything we had. Had to mag dump for a single kill. Managed to kill half of them before the Kingdom’s guys finally showed up.”

“So what happened after that?”

“Well, before that – when we first got here, King gave us three options,” Cole said. “Return to our moment of impending doom in Jadira, live as normal citizens here, or sign on as their heroes. After that night with the demons? Pretty easy call, all things considered. We went through negotiations a few days ago. Told ‘em it was pending until you accepted it, though.”

Mack inclined his chin, then shrugged. “Probably would’ve anyway. What’d they agree to hook us up with?”

Ethan listed the important items, from their salary to level of autonomy. The deal had been rather generous and satisfactory across the board, but what really caught Mack’s attention was the content about equipment. Of course, he’d also been the prime victim of loot boxes in games.

Mack kept fighting down the smile, but it was like being back in Sunday school – the more he tried not to, the worse it got. “Not like we got much choice anyway, right?” He glanced at Ethan before adding, a bit more subdued, “Though I gotta admit, it sure beats bleeding out in Jadira. And… who wouldn’t wanna be a hero?”

His smile faded for real this time, and it didn’t take a genius to understand why.

Cole could see it in his eyes. The smile earlier confirmed what he’d guessed about that ‘fantasy geek’ side of Mack, but the flash of regret… Cole didn’t plan on prying; Mack had his own reasons, pragmatism aside. But if he had to guess, well, Mack probably saw this as a second chance. Redemption, perhaps. Or atonement – for the kid he failed to save; for whatever else he might’ve done in the past.

Mack shifted awkwardly in his bed. The motion seemed to trigger something – a realization as his hand found where the entry wound should have been. He almost winced, but shifted to wide, disbelieving eyes as he actually touched his abdomen.

“Shit.” He pulled up his shirt, scanning the area. No blood. Hell, not even a scar. Just clean skin. “I’m guessing this was also magic?”

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“That would be my work.” Elina appeared in the doorway with Verna, finally catching up to them. “I’m Dr. Elina Gracer; I’ve treated you with healing magic.”

“Huh, wow,” Mack said, starry eyed as he continued to examine the unblemished skin. But the honeymoon phase didn’t last long at all. That wonder cracked into something harder – like he’d just come across a civvie’s wack-ass attempt at a tourniquet.

“Oh!” The elf offered an awkward smile. “You needn’t trouble yourself on that account. The process quite thoroughly removes any foreign matter and mends the insides properly.” She looked at Cole.

He wasn’t exactly sure what she was trying to silently communicate to him, but it wasn’t a hard guess either. “Yeah,” Cole said. “She did it the right way. Looked gross as shit, admittedly, but it wasn’t like… scuffed, or anything.”

“Watched your veins and skin pull back together,” Miles said flatly. “Plain as day.”

Mack nodded slowly. “Well then. Thanks for keeping me from rotting throughout all this. I’m guessing you’ve done everything to keep the muscles working too?” He paused, then added, “Any kind of magic that could speed up recovery?”

“Ah, no, I am afraid there are no spells for such a thing, Sergeant MacPherson. Oh, there are spells that might appear the proper remedy, I grant you, but it would be no better than binding a broken carriage wheel with twine. It may seem sound at a glance, yet the moment it bears any strain, it would surely give way.”

Elina stepped closer to his bedside, briefly checking his coordination and responses. “There seems to be no issues. Shall we begin restoring your strength?”

Mack gave a weak nod. “Yeah. Baby steps.”

“Just so, Sergeant.” Elina helped him get up. “Gentle movements. We shall address each set of muscles in turn.”

“Yeah.” He grunted as she helped him move his legs. “I’m guessing this mana gland counts as one of those muscles?”

Elina shifted gears a bit, probably recognizing Mack as a fellow practitioner of medicine. “Not… precisely. Though it does require care and attention, much as any organ might, the mana gland is of a far more delicate constitution – especially in your case, having suffered such strain.”

Mack didn’t seem to agree. “So we need to build it back up too, right? Physical therapy?”

Elina shook her head. “Let me speak plainly, Sergeant MacPherson. To attempt magic now would be akin to drawing water from a well that has scarcely begun to refill. Your mana gland is exceedingly fragile, and any exertion – however slight – could well plunge you back into the same exhaustion from which you have only just awakened. I cannot, in good conscience, sanction such a risk.”

“Doc,” Mack said, trying to find a comfortable position as she helped him stretch. “If I’ve been in a coma this whole time, wouldn’t my reserves have started filling up? Like, if the well’s been untouched, there’s gotta be some water in there by now, right?”

“Hmm.” Elina’s lips pressed together. But she wasn’t stumped just yet. “A reasonable question, I grant you. Rest, indeed, permits the body to restore its vitality, and I should expect some measure of replenishment in your reserves. However, it is not merely the reserves that concern me, but the mechanism by which the gland draws and channels energy. Should that mechanism remain unstable, slight exertion might cause it to fail entirely. That, Sergeant, is the peril you must avoid.”

“Alright, I get that. But wouldn’t a small test be the best way to figure out if it's working? Just a flicker, a spark. Right now we’re flying blind. If the gland can’t handle even that much, better to know now than later, yeah?”

“A ‘spark’…” Elina looked almost unsure, but she wasn’t so easily convinced. “You may well be right that testing the gland could offer insight into its recovery. Yet as innocuous as it may appear, I believe you might be – I believe you are overlooking the true nature of the mana gland.” She paused, like she was going to say one thing but decided on another. “The risk is stark. You risk… a cascade of failures.”

Cole fought back a wince. Mack looked like he was about to tear into another half-trained terp medic. Maybe he had a case, but this wasn’t standard medicine. Chances were, he knew more about human anatomy than anyone in this castle – or even the whole Kingdom – ever would. A mana gland, though? That sounded like some bullshit even Dr. House himself wouldn’t be able to diagnose. And after nearly losing Mack, well, ‘cascade of failures’ wasn’t something Cole wanted to risk finding out about firsthand.

Mack kept moving through his stretches. If anything, he’d become even more adamant. “Fair enough. But I think the risk of not doing it is worse. Muscles atrophy if you don’t use them. Even brain function drops off without activity. If we leave the gland completely idle during recovery, couldn’t that make things worse in the long run? I mean, especially considering that y’all probably need heroes that can actually… fight the Demon Lord?”

Elina hesitated, looking at Verna this time. All it took was one shrug for the good doctor to realize that she probably wouldn’t be winning this one.

Mack knew exactly when to capitalize. “Just a test; see if everything’s hooked up right, y’know? If I can manage a spark without strain, we know the gland’s stabilizing. If I can’t, I stop right there. No harm done.”

Elina sighed. “‘No harm done,’ you say, as though magic were so obliging.” She stood up. “Very well, Sergeant. Lady Verna, if you would.”

“Just a single spark. Picture warmth gathering in –” Verna started, but a small flame blooming above Mack’s palm cut her off.

“How the hell?” Ethan stepped closer. “That’s exactly what I did.”

Mack grinned, nodding.

Talk about getting outdone. Ethan wasn’t alone in the shock. “You just… picked it up from watching?” Cole asked.

The flame winked out as Mack sagged back. “Seemed straightforward enough.” A nonchalant answer; deliberate – definitely to rub it in, if that smirk on his face was anything to go by.

Verna looked between them. “You’ve already demonstrated the technique?”

“Just a small example earlier,” Ethan explained. “Literally just did this,” he said, spawning a small flame. “Wasn’t even trying to teach.”

“Well then.” Verna wore the expression of a chess master watching a toddler call checkmate. Then, just as quickly, it shifted to one of genuine amazement. “To replicate magic perfectly just from seeing it once…” She paused, then held up her hand.

A small crystal of ice formed above her palm. “Perhaps… might you try this as well?”

Mack concentrated on the crystal. Barely a second later, a similar piece of ice formed above his hand.

He let it dissipate immediately, taking heavy breaths. “Okay, that’s… yeah, I think that’s enough.”

Cole placed a hand on Mack’s shoulder. “Yeah, should probably chill out on the magic, then. We’ll come visit, read you a bedtime story.”

“They at least got anything good?”

“Well… we’re still on uh… children’s books.” Cole let his voice trail off.

“We? Who’s we?” Miles chuckled. “I’m already on the damn editorials. Y’all’re still soundin’ out the letters.”

Cole rolled his eyes. “Can you actually understand what the papers are saying?”

“Uh…”

Ethan laughed. “On the bright side, the language is more like picking up a European language rather than trying to figure out Farsi. It’s got an alphabet, letters, and it’s got English construction. No weird syntax order, no logographic shit like in Mandarin. Easy to learn.”

“Huh, alright.” Mack’s stomach growled.

“Oh, yeah. By the way,” Cole remembered, “they got legit miso here. And a straight up Grand Slam, like from Denny’s. Shit’s good.”

Mack raised an eyebrow.

Miles shrugged. “Couldn’t believe it neither. Reckon one of them heroes must’ve been Japanese. Brought it all over – soy sauce, tempura, miso, green tea, the works. Hell of a job, too. Tastes like the real deal.”

But Cole knew it didn’t end there. Whoever brought Japanese food over wasn’t alone. Apparently, dozens of heroes had been summoned before they got dragged over – all from different time periods, including Celdorne’s founder. Though, that wasn’t really much of a surprise given the imperial measurements and penchant for tea.

“Hell of a legacy,” Cole said. “One guy introduces a whole new cuisine. You know they probably learned a bunch of other stuff too.” The city outside drew his attention. “Civil planning, engineering, science, medicine…”

He then glanced at Elina. “Actually, that reminds me. When you’re feeling up to it, Mack, you should write down everything you can remember. Especially about medicine and biology. Between that and what we know about guns, engineering, tactics – could make a real difference here.”

Elina straightened. “I would be most interested in comparing your methods with ours, Sergeant.”

Mack’s stomach chose that moment to rumble again.

“Food first though,” Cole grinned. “Wish I could recommend the breakfast combo, but you know how it is. Plain sandwiches and shit.”

No doubt Mack was well aware of the procedure behind coma recovery, but it didn’t stop him from being utterly devastated. “Yeah… fuck.”