As they approached the walls, Kian realized just how massive they truly were. Up close, they looked even taller—ancient stone rising high into the sky.
And there were more guards than he’d first thought.
“Okay, I think we’re not going the right way,” Kian whispered to his friend.
“You ain’t backing out now.” Zeyk grabbed Kian’s arm and pulled him forward.
They reached a short line near the gate, where guards were inspecting papers and luggage.
“Zeyk!! We don’t have papers. And I’m carrying a literal dagger,” Kian gritted through his teeth.
Zeyk gulped. “Too late.”
A broad-shouldered guard in plate armor approached, sword hanging at his side.
“Where you from? State your business,” he grunted.
“We’re merchants. Looking for some supplies,” Zeyk said, forcing a shaky smile.
“You got any papers? Identification?” the guard asked, squinting.
“Uhm… not really.”
Kian was sweating profusely. He had never been under this much pressure.
“I’m gonna need to check your packs.”
The guard motioned to another soldier.
“Search their packs.”
Kian and Zeyk tensed as the soldier grabbed their bags. He pulled out food, the blanket, the money—
Then stopped.
His fingers wrapped around the dagger.
The moment stretched.
The dagger gleamed.
The soldier’s eyes narrowed.
He held it up.
“Why do you have this?”
Kian’s throat went dry.
The second guard stepped closer.
“I’ve seen blades like that… cultists carry ’em.”
Kian’s heartbeat thundered in his ears.
This was it. They were dead.
Then—
The ring on his finger pulsed.
Warmth.
A ripple went through his chest.
The air shimmered—just for a second.
The guard blinked.
Then… his expression softened.
He looked at the dagger again. Then at Kian.
“…Huh. You may pass,” he muttered, handing it back.
The other guard frowned.
“Uh… yeah. Thanks for the trouble—”
Kian and Zeyk didn’t wait for him to finish. They exchanged a look, turned, and bolted.
They didn’t stop until they were a good distance away from the gate.
Kian didn’t stop grinning the whole way.
“Did you see that? I’m magic!!! The ring isn’t so useless after all!” He giggled like a child who’d just been given a new toy.
Zeyk blinked. “Wait… that was you?”
“I think so?! I felt it—this warmth—and then bam! The guy just changed his mind!”
Kian grinned like a lunatic. “Dude. I am so cool.”
Zeyk glared at the sky.
“Why does he get all the cool toys?”
“‘Cause I’m the one with Balanced Karma.”
“Not balanced. No karma.”
“Shut up.”
They wandered deeper into the city. The streets were alive with noise—market stalls bursting with color, stone roads worn smooth from years of use, people shouting, kids laughing and darting through the crowd.
“Where in all the realms are we?” Kian whispered.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
WAIT.
He froze.
Kian turned to a passing vendor.
“Hey! Uh, what city is this?”
“Vaelmont. You two new here?” the vendor asked.
“Yeah… real new,” Kian said, his voice low.
He turned to Zeyk, who was watching a group of children play tag.
“Zeyk! I don’t think we're in the same realm as before.”
Zeyk stared at him.
“Wait… is this—?”
“…We’re on the Mortal Plane.”
Kian looked up at the sky. Then the people. Then everything.
His mouth opened slightly.
“…Holy stars.”
____________________________________________________________________________
It turned out the gods hadn’t given them nearly as much gold as they needed.
They couldn’t even afford the most rundown inn in the city.
Kian had tried to magic his way into the innkeeper’s head, but all that got them was kicked out.
He was absolutely fuming—the gods had tossed him face-first into a quest to save the universe, and they didn’t even give him enough money?!
Dinner was something that vaguely resembled sweet bread, and after that, they decided to call it a day—on the side of the street.
Luckily, the blankets were absolutely divine.
Like, literally divine. They were paper-thin but somehow warm and unbelievably cozy. There had to be some kind of magic woven into them.
Even though they were sleeping on rocks and dirt, Kian fell asleep instantly.
____________________________________________________________________________
Kian’s sleep was deeper than it had any right to be.
Despite the rocky ground and the distant buzz of the city, he felt like he was floating—warm, weightless, drifting through soft clouds.
Then, everything shifted.
He was standing in a vast, moonlit field. The grass shimmered with a faint glow. Stars pulsed overhead like slow heartbeats. And far in the distance, a colossal figure loomed—cloaked in shadow and light.
Kian blinked. “Hello?”
“You trespass, child of balance.”
The voice cut through the silence, ancient and cold.
Kian tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn’t work.
The figure stepped closer. Pressure built in the air like a storm about to crack the sky.
“You are interfering.”
“Wait—I didn’t mean to—”
“You were granted neutrality. Yet already, you lean.”
“You think intent matters?”
“You think balance waits for your permission?”
The voice dripped with disdain.
“Tip the scale again,” it hissed, “and I will make you regret ever being born.”
Kian staggered back. “I’m not doing anything! I don’t even know why I’m here!”
“Then leave. Let the world fall as it must.”
“Because if you fight this, child of balance…”
The shadow surged forward. Tendrils of unseen force curled through the air. Kian couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
“…Then your neutrality becomes debt. Your karma will shatter—fed to the fire of Vikarma’s cause.”
Then—
A voice rang out, calm and immense. Warm, yet firm.
“That’s enough.”
The pressure vanished. Vikarma recoiled.
Kian collapsed to his knees, gasping.
From the light came a second figure—shimmering and radiant. Not blinding, but felt. Like a memory of safety. A parent’s embrace. A lover’s warmth.
The figure smiled.
“Do not fear him, Kian. Vikarma exists to balance. But he does not rule you.”
Kian’s eyes widened.
“…Emotion? Is that you?”
The light swelled gently.
“Yes, Kian. It’s me.”
Vikarma’s form seethed at the edge of the void.
“This is not your place.”
“It is when you overstep,” Emotion replied, still calm. Still smiling.
He turned back to Kian.
“You’re safe now.”
Kian exhaled shakily. His whole body trembled.
Emotion knelt beside him, his voice low.
“Vikarma is not wrong. Not entirely. Even unknowingly, you’ve altered paths.”
“…What did I even do?” Kian whispered.
“You simply were. In the wrong time. At the right place.”
Kian blinked. “That’s not comforting.”
Emotion’s smile deepened, not unkind.
“You cannot act meaningfully—not yet. Not unless absolutely necessary.”
Kian’s voice wavered. “And if I do?”
“Then the balance will break. And you will no longer be safe from Vikarma.”
Kian groaned. “He really needs a better name.”
Emotion laughed softly. “That’s why you’re my herald. You have an ocean of feeling waiting to be shaped.”
Kian muttered, “You know, I’ve hated every moment of this mess. And you’re the reason I’m in it. So, no offense, but ‘trust’ might be a big ask.”
Emotion’s smile didn’t falter. “None taken. Trust takes time.”
He placed a hand on Kian’s shoulder. “But we will guide you. That is our role.”
Kian swallowed. “And if I mess up again?”
Emotion’s gaze was like deep water—filled with sorrow and something warmer.
“Then we will steady you. So you do not have to disbalance your karma.”
He stood, rising into something taller, grander, no longer just a man-shaped light.
“Our karma was never balanced to begin with. The gods are not bound like you are. We may act — indirectly at least — without tipping the scales.”
“But you, Kian… you must remain in balance. At least for now.”
A halo of shifting hues glowed faintly around him.
“The Aspects will contact you soon.”
Emotion’s light dimmed gently as if drawing a curtain across the stars.
“Listen when they do.”
