“Well, this is just getting hurtful,” he said and turned to Shade. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”
“They changed when you took the power,” Shade said. “I didn’t mention it when it happened because there were other considerations.”
“You couldn’t have said something when you were doing my eyebrows?”
“You were quite focused at the time.”
“That’s fair. Do they look good?”
“They set off your dark hair quite nicely. You really should grow the beard back in.”
“I’ll just let it come back on its own. I only have so much of Jory’s hair cream.”
“Hello?” asked the seemingly forgotten Farrah.
“Oh, you’re the only one who gets to be rude?” he asked. “You know you died, right?”
“The memories are hazy, but yes,” she said.
“I spoke at your memorial, you know. I was kind of amazing. Rufus said it was worth you dying just to hear my beautiful words. Gary blubbered like a little boy with a skinned knee. Snot got all in his fur; it was a huge mess.”
“Is it really you?” she asked, voice trembling.
He flashed a familiar grin. “I knew my charisma would shine through.”
“I can’t imagine any shapeshifter with so little dignity as to talk that much crap,” she said, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
As soon as Shade told him he found her, Jason had rushed through the astral space, chaining shadow jumps to reach her as quickly as he could. He leapt off a castle rooftop, floating downwards as he saw her staring at Shade with suspicion. She sensed his aura and looked up, watching him like a stranger, even as he landed and revealed his face.
She was not looking her best—thin, dirty, and hair reduced to a light fuzz. At least they’d given her some clothes, some track pants and a t-shirt, but she was still barefoot. She looked at him with wary eyes.
“What are you?” she asked.
He realised that for all that she laid the groundwork for who he was, she had missed most of his transformative experiences. It was no surprise she looked at him like a stranger. His personal crest could not be falsified, but she had never seen it. His aura and even his rank were sun and moon to what she knew, let alone his appearance. The cloak of stars certainly helped, but if he was going to convince her he was himself, he needed to really be himself.
He started talking.
He watched recognition and hope slowly dawn on her face as he bantered.
“I can’t imagine any shapeshifter with so little dignity as to talk that much crap,” she said. “Show me Colin. He’s hard to fake.”
He held up his hand, the palm growing slick with blood that coalesced into a leech with horrifying lamprey teeth.
“I don’t need to cut myself to pull him out now,” Jason said. “The benefits of ranking up.”
She stared at the leech in his hand, which rocked back and forth in a way that was somehow merry, despite coming from a tiny blood-sucking monster.
“I think he missed—”
She rocketed forward with peak bronze-rank speed, almost bowling him over as she threw her arms around him, gripping him like he was a security blanket. Colin was knocked away, deftly caught by Shade. Jason felt her whole body tremble as she sobbed into his shoulder.
“Oh, hey,” he said softly, gently placing his arms around her.
After a bronze-rank spirit coin, a recovery potion, Jason’s third-to-last vial of crystal wash, most of his remaining hair ointment and a surprisingly proficient hair cut from Shade, Farrah was looking more like herself. Not exactly what he remembered, with the jeans, blouse, and jacket, but a lot closer than her recollection of him.
Her own clothes were long gone. Her stone chest dimensional space was her human racial gift tied to her earth essence, and would have been empty anyway even if she could access it. Jason had removed its contents a year earlier.
Jason hadn’t had the presence of mind to prepare clothes for her. Shade had taken the initiative to procure the ensemble, leaving the appropriate cash in the till of the shop he took them from.
They sat on the edge of a brick rooftop, legs dangling off the side. She leaned against his arm, reassured by the physical contact.
“How long?” she asked.
“A year.”
“It must have been quite the year.”
“You have no idea. Luckily, we’ll have plenty of time for me to explain it all. Also, quite a lot of recordings.”
“You kept making those recordings for your family?”
“Oh, yeah. They’ve even started watching them.”
“How did you get them back to your world?”
“Oh, crap,” Jason said, realisation dawning. “Farrah, this astral space isn’t attached to your world. It’s attached to mine.”
“That was your world?”
“Yeah. You didn’t realise it was a different reality?”
“I was collared and spent almost every moment either unconscious or thrown in a hole,” she said. “So, you got back, then.”
“Yeah. Look, we should really get moving. There’ll be more time for explanations on the way home. We’re on the wrong side of the planet right now.”
Jason had experienced an oddly emotionless clarity in the moments after his own torture and captivity, but when the emotions finally came, they crashed down like a tsunami. He wanted to get Farrah out of the astral space and past the inevitable Network attention before it all caught up to her. He suspected that Farrah was mentally stronger than him, but there was no avoiding the aftermath of the trauma she had suffered. In his case, it had been months before he came up for air.
He got to his feet and helped her to hers. They had only just set off when he sensed a large number of auras spreading out through the astral space, some of which he recognised.
“Looks like the bad guys unsealed the aperture that was securing this astral space,” he said. “We’re about to run into some people, but they’re allies. I’ll get us past them as quick as I can.”
The Network platoon’s tactical leader, Karen Espinoza, was leading the team through the astral space after the inhabitants unsealed it and rushed out. She paused at another cluster of corpses, these both desiccated and blackened with rot.
“What the hell kind of powers does this guy have?” her second asked. “Did he seriously do all this alone?”
“This environment is probably as good for him as it is bad for us,” Espinoza said. “The more extreme the location, the less effective orthodox tactics are. I’ve been advocating for expansions to our tactical doctrine for years, as has pretty much everyone in my position across all the branches. We’re far too reliant on conventional, military-derived tactics. Hopefully, Asano turning up will actually be a spur for change.”
“He’s only category two.”