Shadow of the First Sin

Before us stood a peculiar, tall windmill, its stone walls adorned with colorful circles of all sizes, resembling a circus tent. The circles seemed randomly placed, as if painted by children’s hands. Could these circles represent portals? It seemed logical, given that this place was known as the home of the portal specialist in Buckleberry.

We approached the bright yellow doors at the entrance. In the middle of the door, an ugly handwritten message in red paint read, “Pete's Portals.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but this place screams scam!” Silas warned, still somewhat drunk but speaking more clearly. He should be as good as new after a good night’s rest, or perhaps a portal ride to the other side of the continent.

“We don’t have much choice,” Orion said as he knocked loudly on the door.

“Oh, visitors! I haven’t seen those since I opened shop!” came a squeaky voice from behind the door.

The door swung open, revealing an old man hiding behind it, peeking out with only his head. He was bald on top with semi-long white hair on the sides and a messy white beard. His unnaturally large, round blue eyes peered at us through round glasses resting on the tip of his nose. His attire was simple: a white shirt under a ragged blue coat.

“Come on in! Come, come! It’s been a long time since Pete had guests!” he laughed in an unusually high-pitched voice, urging us in with an awkward smile.

We walked in single file: Orion carrying Kaela at the front, me with the captured Talon close behind, and Silas bringing up the rear. The corridor was narrow, making it difficult for us to squeeze through, especially for Orion, with his tall stature and strong build.

“Welcome to Pete’s humble abode! Sit, sit!” the old man urged, though there were no chairs, just the cold concrete floor.

“So, who is this Pete you’re talking about?” Silas asked as he gratefully accepted the old man’s invitation and sat on the floor.

“He is me!” Pete replied with a wide smile.

Pete was an odd fellow. After every sentence, he let out an awkward, high-pitched laugh. He constantly moved around, nervously fidgeting with his fingers or scratching the back of his head. His eyes were bloodshot and twitched incessantly, giving the impression he hadn’t slept much and was heavily caffeinated.

“Someone told us you dabble in portal magic. Is that true?” Orion cut to the chase.

“Oh, yes! Pete is the best portal man in the realm! I would even say in the whole continent! But there is a small problem, you see...”

“And that is?” Orion asked skeptically.

“None of my portals have worked,” Pete admitted.

“What now?” Silas gasped in shock, spitting out the mead he was sipping from his flask.

“Give me that!” I said, snatching the flask from him and summoning the Void Veil in my palm to consume it forever.

“That was an antique...” Silas cried, his hands reaching out toward me in vain.

“This is a waste of time. I’m leaving!” Orion snapped, turning toward the exit.

“But that doesn’t mean this one won’t work,” Pete interjected, halting Orion in his tracks.

“Speak, now,” Orion demanded.

“Such a way with words! If I were to write a play, you’d be the main character!” Silas merrily teased. Instead of a laugh, he received a glare that could kill. “Fine, I’ll cast someone else,” he muttered, looking at me.

Pete fidgeted nervously before speaking.

“None of the portals worked, not because Pete doesn’t know portals—oh, Pete knows portals better than anyone! They didn’t work because there wasn’t enough power to make them work. That’s why Pete lives in the windmill! But still, not enough power, not enough power...” he muttered, deep in thought.

“Explain. Better,” Orion demanded in a low, impatient tone.

“Pete can’t create something out of nothing. To create a portal, you need huge amounts of raw power, power that Pete’s windmill can’t produce. There was a tiny storm a few months back that created just enough power to teleport an onion a few steps, and—”

“Cut to the chase,” Orion interrupted the old man, who had strayed off topic.

“Sorry, Pete has a long tongue. Stupid Pete, nobody likes blabbermouths...” he mumbled, hitting the back of his head repeatedly and nervously pacing in circles.

“This one has some serious mental issues. I like him!” Silas commented from the sidelines.

“But you, you look like a powerful bunch. You provide Pete with power, and Pete will provide you a portal leading anywhere—even to a different dimension if you will!” Pete finally cut to the chase, pointing to a machine made of some type of metal with tubes connecting it to the ceiling.

“Will electricity do the job?” Orion asked.

“Oh, yes, yes! Of course, it will! Lightning is a very aggressive element. You know, Pete once got struck by lightning, and everyone asked if he was okay. Pete said, ‘Of course! Pete’s just a bit more... electrifying now!’” Pete giggled, pacing in circles, his hairless head gleaming under the light.

His attempt at a joke left everyone speechless, and an awkward silence filled the room until Silas broke into laughter, lying on his back and giggling while tapping his stomach.

“Just tell me what I need to do,” Orion sighed.

“Come, come!” Pete urged, leading him over to a handmade machine.

Before following Pete, Orion walked over to me and, without a word, handed me Kaela’s unconscious body. He softly brushed his hand against her fevered forehead and cheeks before leaving.

She was burning up with fever, sweat dripping across her face, neck, and chest. In her fevered dream, she let out silent quivers as the green veins spread over her neck and onto her warm cheeks.

The tied-up Talon beside me couldn’t even bring himself to look at the dying Kaela. Instead, he stared blankly at the floor, indifferent to his fate. He made no attempt to flee, for his spirit was already broken.