Unlimited Isekai and Other Unfortunate Magic

Remicra's scales shifted through a kaleidoscope of colors before settling on a deep blue with occasional flashes of pink-red. She approached Dave cautiously, as one might a wounded animal, and knelt in front of him.

"That's not true," she said softly.

“Hrm?”

"I…” She began. “I do care. I'm simply put… really bad at showing it. I know I've been harsh, maybe even cruel. But you've been the only person in years who's treated me well. The only person who brought me not just what I asked for, but something better...”

Dave searching her face for any sign of deception. Her gaze met his beneath crystalline ruby lashes. Each of her iris was almost like a black hole framed by a gold corona, surrounded by a galaxy of violet nebulae. Despite their otherworldly appearance, her eyes anchored him to reality, their depths acting almost like a gravitational force that kept his scattered, disparate soul shards from pulling him apart in a thousand different directions.

"You want to know why I care?" Remicra continued. "Because in the short time I've known you, you've shown more kindness and determination than anyone else who's walked through that door in over a decade. You didn't give up on me, even when I threw you out. Multiple times."

She reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a clawed hand on his trembling wrist. "So please, Dave. Talk to me. Tell me what happened. Let me help you like you've been trying to help me. I can give you… my best advice for what it’s worth, which isn’t a lot…”

She quickly stood up and grabbed an hourglass sand timer from a shelf, turned it over and set it on the table beside them.

“I’ve made this… to keep track of time per customer,” she said. “When the last grain of sand reaches the bottom, it’s been twenty five minutes. We can talk until then.”

Dave's grip on the window loosened slightly. He took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling the maelstrom of souls within him subside just a little.

“The timer is handy… but I have as long as I want to,” he said, eyeing the Custodix. “Kitlix don’t see people, they’re magic tools that can only see Attributes. I can simply rearrange my Attributes, remember?”

“Oh,” the dragoness blinked. “That’s… good. Then we have more time. Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” Dave repeated with a shudder. “She told me to go to your smithy… she’s been manipulating me from the start.”

“She?”

“Cedez Astra,” he revealed. “One of the Shadow… uhh, people?”

Remicra's scales shifted to a soft blue as she settled beside him, her tail curling around her feet.

"Shadow people?" she prompted gently.

Dave took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on Lari's face in the glass. "They're... not human, not alive like you or me. They're some kind of magical beings, maybe fragments of a princess who died nineteen years ago. They can't be killed permanently, and they're all fighting each other for control of Shandria."

"And this Cedez... She's one of them?"

"Yes," Dave nodded. "She runs the Cambria Snail Cafe with Snailmancer Murdoc. She's been... guiding me, I guess. But I don't know if I can trust her. She knows far too many things about me, about my world. She sang songs from Earth, talked about books that I like!"

The dragoness tilted her head. "That does sound strange. To what end is she guiding you?"

Dave slid everything into Wisdom and looked into Remicra's gold-violet eyes. He saw nothing but understanding there. He compared them to those of Lari's blue eyes from his memories. Both projected the same kindness, patience… pure, clear friendship free of any kind of concealed desire or manipulation.

"Cedez wants to turn me into her champion… maybe? To use my necromancy against the others,” he revealed, not sure if he was speaking to Remy or Lari anymore for a second as he stared at the stained glass window in his hands.

Remicra's scales momentarily flickered with orange. "You're a… necromancer?"

Dave tensed, realizing what he'd just revealed. But to his surprise, Remicra didn't recoil and didn't show it like it bothered her. Instead, the orange tint of her scales died in an ocean of blue as she placed a warm claw on his right hand.

"Don’t worry, I won’t report you to the Watch," she said. "I already guessed as much, knew that your sliding Attributes were some kind of unique skill. Do remember, I'm trapped here too, bound to make weapons for a Shandrian Lord until I die of old age. We outcasts need to stick together."

“It’s not even Necromancy,” he confessed. “It’s a skill called Phantomancy. It allows me to absorb the souls of the dead, to learn what they knew, to rearrange the magic from anyone who recently died to fill my Attributes.”

“I see,” she said, reaching out for a bottle of water and cloth. “Why are you covered in blood?”

“I went into a Void dungeon with... Cedez…” Dave said, wincing as Remicra wiped the blood from his hands.

“Why?”

Dave opened his mouth and started talking.

He told her everything. About his life on Earth, his mundane job, and his first ‘death’. He spoke of his revival by Lari, his best friend who had saved him both physically and emotionally. He described his second death and awakening on Arx, his horrific first moments in this new reality.

Dave's voice trembled as he recounted his experiences in Shandria - meeting Cedez, the strange Quest to slay the dragon and free the princess, his confusion, and the growing suspicion that he was being manipulated. He described his extra non-existent day in Healer’s Hall, his work with Healy. He talked about the baths, killing Oraniss, and meeting Stellaris. He talked about the Void dungeon, Cedez's sacrifice, and the terrible battle with Sir Wabbor.

As he spoke of absorbing the souls, of the fractured memories and alien desires that now warred within him, tears began to fall anew. He confessed his fear of losing himself, of becoming nothing more than a vessel for the countless others he had consumed.

Finally, he told her about the vision of Lari as Saint Saria, the horror of realizing what she had been forced to become, and the crushing guilt he felt for not being there to save her.

Throughout it all, Remicra listened silently, her scales shifting through shades of blue, red and green, occasionally flashing with hints of pink all while carefully wiping the blood from his face. When Dave finally fell silent, exhausted and emotionally drained, the dragoness once again reached out and gently took his hand in her clawed one.

"Thank you for trusting me with this," she said softly. "I can't imagine how difficult it must be, carrying all of that inside you. But Dave, you're still you. The very fact that you're struggling with this, that you care so deeply about what's happening to you and others - that proves you haven't lost yourself."

Dave looked at her, a glimmer of hope in his tear-stained eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

For the first time since he’d come to know her, Remicra smiled. "Because a dungeon monster wouldn't care. A mindless collection of souls wouldn't be sitting here, pouring their heart out to a bound blacksmith.”

Dave noticed that the Custodix Kitlix was intently staring at him, the top of the hourglass nearly empty. He rearranged his Attributes ever so slightly and the crystalline-fluid creature stopped paying attention, its eyes wandering elsewhere.

“Impressive,” the dragoness commented as she grabbed the timer and turned it over. “So you can really bamboozle a Custodix.”

Dave nodded.

Remicra stood up. She moved to the small grate near her forge, placing a battered kettle atop it. Reaching down, she tapped the Ignix Kitlix, pushing it under the kettle. The Ignix sparked from within, its crystalline body glowing with orange like hot coals.

Dave eyed the kettle warily. The dragoness turned to him, her expression filled with resolve.

"I'll do it," she said firmly. "I'll make the tea with your Void Lotus or whatever. If this plant and this shadow blood can really magnify my Metallomancy as you say, then I will help you."

“Why?” Dave asked.

"Because you've given me hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, there's a way out of this wretched situation for both of us. So, let's see what this flower can do. If it doesn’t work… then we’ll figure something else out, right?”

Dave blinked, surprised by her sudden change in demeanor. "Are you sure? I don't want to put you in danger… Using the shadow-blood, amplifying you might bring them to your tower.”

“Pfff,” Remicra snorted. “Some danger would be a nice change of pace. Don’t take me for a weakling who can’t handle herself. If there's even a chance this could help you, it's worth the risk."

“Don’t you have customers?” He eyed the shut door.

“What customers?” Remicra arched an eyebrow. “Pretty sure I scared everyone in Shandria away from here a long time ago. Only Overseer Princess visits me once a week with orders to make something or repair stuff.”

“Princess?”

"Just her hunter nickname, since her crystal hair looks like a crown," Remicra rolled her eyes. "She's not actually royalty. Although she certainly acts entitled enough to be one. Now, stop flapping around and give me a lotus.”

“Fine,” Dave wrapped his hand in a cloth and reached into his backpack, carefully extracting one of the Void Lotus flowers. He held one out to Remicra.

"Be careful," he warned. "They’ve got hella sharp two-dimensional thorns."

Remicra nodded, her scales shifting to violet-blue. She retrieved a pair of metal tongs from her workbench and grabbed the flower from his hand. Pruning the leaves with a knife, she threw them into the boiling kettle.

As they hit the surface, the leaves seemed to writhe for a moment before dissolving, turning the water a deep, shimmering violet. The air filled with a strange, otherworldly aroma. A part of Dave belonging to the Voidmancer recognized it after a minute.

It was the smell of the blood of the Voidwhale, a scent that haunted Zolish Yaslor his entire life.

Remicra poured the steaming liquid into two rough-hewn mugs. She handed one to Dave, their eyes meeting over the rim of the cups.

“Shall we?" She asked.