Cole's question hung in the air, thick with unspoken implications. "What do you remember about the attack?"
William hesitated, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting images. The monstrous figures, the chilling, inhuman eyes, the sheer, unadulterated terror. How could he explain any of that? How could he reconcile it with Cole's explanation of pirates?
He settled on a carefully constructed half-truth. "I. . it was all very fast. Confusing. I remember the shouting, the chaos and then. . . then those men. they weren't like any I'd ever seen before. Big, strong. . . and fast. Like animals." He focused on the more human aspects of his memory, omitting the truly fantastical elements.
Cole nodded, his expression thoughtful. "They were brutal, that's for sure. Probably hopped up on some strong drink, or worse." He paused, studying William's face. "You took a hard hit, like I said. It's not uncommon for people to have distorted memories after something like that."
William seized on this, relieved. "Yes, that must be it. I'm still. . . my head is still a bit fuzzy."
The conversation shifted, thankfully, to more practical matters. Cole explained that the ship, the Silver Eel, is an adventuring vessel that often traveled these waters. They were heading to a city called Bayam. Here the survivors would be safe or at least safer. He offered William a change of clothes and a meal, explaining that the ship's cook made a surprisingly decent stew.
As the days passed, William began to piece together the fragments of his new reality. He learned more about the world, a place vastly different from his old one. The Silver Eel was part of a sprawling network of trade and travel, a world of sailing ships, bustling port cities, and whispers of strange and dangerous things lurking beneath the surface of the everyday.
He also learned more about Isaac. The memories, though fragmented, painted a picture of a lonely boy, ostracized for his "odd" perceptions. It became increasingly clear that Isaac's ability to see. . . things was not normal. Cole had called it a nasty blow to the head, but William suspected it was something more. Something supernatural.
The realization that he was truly, irrevocably in another world began to sink in. William was gone. He was Isaac now. He had a new body, a new past, and a new future, whether he wanted it or not. But a part of him, a stubborn, grieving part, refused to accept it. He pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the tangible details of his new surroundings, the feel of the salt spray on his face, the creak of the ship's timbers, the endless expanse of the ocean. He could also test the lingering stew from his meal.
. . .
Several days into the voyage, Cole sought out Isaac. The ship was sailing smoothly, the crew going about their duties, and Isaac was sitting on the deck, staring out at the endless ocean. He was trying to distract himself from the gnawing emptiness inside, the questions he didn't dare to ask.
"Mind if I join you?" Cole asked, gesturing to the space beside him.
Isaac shrugged, not taking his eyes from the horizon. "Sure."
Cole sat down, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I've been doing some thinking about what you told me," he began, "and about some of the things the other villagers said. About Isaac."
Isaac tensed, his heart pounding in his chest. Had they figured it out?
Cole continued, "They said you saw things others couldn't. That you sometimes spoke of visions and. . other presences." He paused, then turned to Isaac, his gaze intense. "Have you experienced anything like that since the attack?"
Isaac hesitated, torn between fear and a desperate need for answers. He still couldn't fully process the impossible events, the monsters, the rebirth. It was easier to focus on the world in front of him, to learn its rules, than to confront the gaping hole where his old life used to be. "Sometimes," he admitted cautiously, "I see things. Briefly. Like shadows at the edge of my vision. Or. . . a feeling. Like someone is watching me."
Cole nodded slowly, his expression growing more serious. "I thought so. I've seen it before, in others. It's rare, but. . . Some people are born with an affinity. A connection to the unseen."
He stood up and gestured for Isaac to follow him. "Come with me. There's something I want to show you."
Cole led Isaac below deck, to a small, private room. Inside, the room was dimly lit by a single lantern, and several strange objects were laid out on a table: a piece of smooth, black obsidian, a handful of dried herbs, and a silver mirror etched with complex symbols.
"What is all this?" Isaac asked, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
Cole explained "These are tools. Tools to help understand and perhaps control what you are." He picked up the obsidian. "This is a scrying stone. It can help focus your vision." He then gestured to the herbs. "These are for calming the mind, for centering yourself." Finally, he pointed to the mirror. "And this is a spirit mirror. It can reveal things that are hidden."
Cole spent the next hour guiding Isaac through a series of tests and exercises. He had Isaac gaze into the scrying stone, focusing his mind and trying to perceive any hidden images. He burned the herbs, their strange scent filling the room, and instructed Isaac on breathing techniques to calm his racing thoughts. Finally, he had Isaac look into the spirit mirror, his heart pounding as he waited to see what it would reveal.
The results were unsettling. When Isaac looked into the scrying stone, he saw fleeting images: swirling vortexes of color, faces that seemed to shift and change, and glimpses of landscapes that defied logic. The herbs calmed his mind, but also made him feel strangely detached from his body, as if he were floating.
But it was the spirit mirror that truly shocked them both. At first, Isaac saw only his own reflection. But as he continued to gaze into it, the reflection began to distort. His eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural light, and strange symbols flickered across his forehead. Behind him, in the reflection, he could see shadowy figures, their forms indistinct and shifting.
Cole watched, his expression a mixture of awe and concern. "It's as I suspected," he said finally. "You're a half-Beyonder."
Isaac stared at him, his mind reeling. "A what?"
"A Beyonder," Cole explained, "is someone with a connection to the supernatural. Someone who has awakened to the mysteries of the world. There are different pathways, different ways this can manifest. From what I've seen, you seem to be aligned with the Hermit pathway."