Ow!
My throat... it's on fire!
What the hell happened to me?
The weird dream with all those voices just broke apart. Elias Reed, still half asleep, felt like someone had taken sandpaper to his throat. Again and again. No wait, more like someone shoved a hot poker down there and twisted it around.
Ugh... He tried to swallow but his mouth felt wrong. His whole body felt wrong actually. Like he'd grown six inches overnight or something.
Probably still dreaming. Yeah, that's it. One of those dreams where you think you're awake but you're still sleeping. Happens all the time. Elias tried to focus and shake off whatever this was.
But his thoughts kept slipping away like water. One second he could almost think straight, then random stuff would pop up. Concrete floors. Rope. Men in dark clothes chanting something that hurt to remember.
Why does my throat hurt so bad?
It's like I gargled with acid or something.
Did I get sick? Food poisoning maybe?
Wait... wasn't I somewhere else before this?
Need to wake up properly. Come on.
Okay the burning isn't as bad now but still feels like crap.
Great, no way I'm sleeping after this. How am I supposed to work tomorrow?
Actually why am I thinking about work? If I feel this bad I should call in sick. Davidson can deal with his stupid reports himself for once.
You know what, maybe a sick day wouldn't suck. Could finally finish that book I started three months ago.
The pain was getting better and Elias could think a bit clearer now. He sat up straight and opened his eyes.
Everything was blurry at first, then got really sharp. Too sharp maybe. He was looking at a wooden desk but it wasn't his desk. The wood looked too perfect, like someone had grown a tree specifically to make this one piece of furniture.
There was some kind of brass machine on the desk making quiet humming sounds and letting out little puffs of steam. A few leather books were stacked next to it. On the other side was a brass plate that showed his reflection.
Except it wasn't his reflection.
The guy looking back at him was young, maybe twenty-two, with really sharp features and bright blue eyes. Black curly hair down to his shoulders.
What the hell? Elias jerked back and almost fell over. The movement felt too smooth, too coordinated.
While he was freaking out, he noticed the light coming through the windows was all wrong. Not sunlight. This was blue and clean and made everything look like it was glowing.
He looked up toward the windows.
Through some kind of frosted glass he could see a sky that definitely wasn't Earth's sky. The light was wrong, the color was wrong, and there were shapes moving in the distance that looked like buildings but also kind of alive somehow.
What... Elias felt cold terror wash over him and tried to stand up fast. But his legs were longer than expected and he crashed back down onto the hard wooden chair.
Thud!
That didn't help his head at all. Elias grabbed the desk edge, got up more carefully, and turned around to look at the room.
It was nice but weird. High ceilings with red wallpaper that seemed to move when he wasn't looking right at it. That brass machine in the middle looked like a sewing machine but also like something from a steampunk movie. The windows had that frosted glass and one had a crack fixed with something that looked like actual starlight.
Everything was fancy and elegant and felt completely wrong.
He looked at the brass plate again. Still not his face. This guy was good looking in a way that would make people stare. Pale skin that was almost see-through.
What... His voice came out different. Smoother. Younger. With an accent he'd never had before.
The steam machine, the weird architecture, that alien sky. It all pointed to one impossible thing.
Did I... Seriously just undergo a Metamorphosis? Elias's mouth dropped open.
He'd read enough novels during lunch breaks to know what that meant. But actually living it felt like drowning.
After a minute of just staring, Elias muttered, "Well this definitely isn't in my job description."
If his throat didn't hurt so much he'd think this was just a really vivid nightmare.
Okay calm down. Breathe. Don't panic. After taking some deep breaths, Elias tried to get his heart rate under control.
That's when the memories hit him.
Not his memories. Someone else's.
Alucent Luci. Twenty-two years old. Lived in this cottage in a place called Eryndral in something called Verdant Vale. On a world called Senele.
His parents had been researchers who died in some kind of accident when he was nineteen. Left him enough money to buy this place and live quietly.
He'd been studying something called Rune-tech Engineering. Trying to follow his parents but wasn't very good at it.
The cottage had steam-powered appliances. The sewing machine thing was called a Steamsewer. There were other gadgets that kept the place warm.
Rune-tech? Steam appliances? Elias rubbed his throat and that's when he saw it.
A ring on his left hand that he'd never seen before. Dark metal that seemed to eat light instead of reflecting it. Covered in symbols that made his eyes water if he looked too long.
The Weave Anchor Ring.
More memories crashed into him. Not Alucent's memories. His own memories. The warehouse. Cultists. The taste of blood. This ring being forced onto his finger while people chanted in languages that shouldn't exist.
"Conceptual bleeding, You'll die"
The words just appeared in his head, written in some ancient script he somehow knew. But that was impossible. Neither Elias nor Alucent had ever learned that.
Shit! Elias backed away from the desk like it was on fire.
He was so dizzy he almost fell but caught himself on the brass machine. The metal felt warm and seemed to pulse.
That's when he saw the stain on the machine's base.
A handprint. Dark red and still wet.
Elias looked at his right hand. The one that had been touching the machine. Blood covered his palm.
The burning in his throat got worse and he felt something wet trickling down his neck.
Am I bleeding? His hands were shaking as he moved to the brass plate to see his reflection better.
The young guy with blue eyes and black hair stared back. Definitely handsome. Definitely not him. Looked like someone who read a lot and didn't get out much.
Is this me now? Alucent Luci?
Elias got closer to the makeshift mirror, using the weird blue light to examine himself.
He turned his head to check his throat.
What he saw made his stomach drop.
A cut ran across his throat from one side to the other. Clean edges like from a really sharp knife. Deep enough that he should be dead. Should have bled out in minutes.
But instead of just blood, the wound pulsed with the same dark energy that came from the ring. And in the center of the cut, barely visible, tiny symbols moved across his skin like living tattoos.
The same symbols that were on the Weave Anchor Ring.
Elias opened his mouth to scream but what came out was laughter. High and crazy sounding.
Because he finally got it.
He hadn't just transmigrated. He hadn't just died and been reborn.
He'd been changed. Converted. Made into something that could exist in a world where sewing machines had their own consciousness and rings could anchor souls to alien realities.
And the symbols on his throat were getting brighter, which probably meant it wasn't over yet.