Rubbing away the condensation on his bathroom mirror, for the first time Theo took note of the changes he saw since he had jumped on this crazy roller coaster. It had been well over a month now, and his body had begun to show signs of growth from the consistent exercise.

  His face looked more chiselled, his already high cheekbones refining further. His black curls had grown, and he was getting a bit desperate for a cut. His green eyes were vibrant, his skin clear with a sort of luminescence that came from the constant aether absorption. The freckles across his nose and cheeks had softened but had not disappeared. His body had started to fill out as well, and he had to admit, the little bit of extra muscle looked good. Not that he had been gaunt, just… a bit neglected.

  He tried very hard to ignore the tattoo spreading across his chest, but he was slowly becoming resigned to it. It was growing in fine detail, the scales on the dragon gaining depth and seeming to glisten in the reflected light from the Phoenix’s radiance.

  He sighed, trying to squash the brewing tension he felt rising through his chest.

  Weapons training. It was time to meet the infamous Frank.

  It was not Frank, nor the training itself that caused his worry. Ok maybe a little bit was because of Frank given everything he had heard. Mostly though, it was having to engage with his peers … with weapons. After the first week, the student cohort had been split in half, alternating between physical and weapons. Thankfully, he and Beth remained in the same group, Carrie and Perry with the other, and Max still with the second years. The tension with the other students had continued to brew, and it seemed as if a dividing line had been metaphorically drawn in the sand. The majority were polite, but distant, only a few beyond his core group ignoring his background. The other half were clearly aligned with the elites.

  Dylan was blatant in his indifference, shunning Theo completely. Gloria watched him as though he were a strange mould that had grown where it shouldn’t have. Neither were particularly pleasant, but they were honest about their condescension.

  Jason on the other hand, had been increasingly intrusive, presenting a maliciously jovial front, the knives hidden in silk. He had clearly decided Theo was at fault for witnessing his humiliation in the first week. His resonance classes had become painful, with Jason going out of his way to target Theo in the knock-outs whenever he could. His lackeys followed suit, and they all happily put on a show for the teachers.

  And Jason was in his weapons class.

  Stepping away from his reflection, Theo put on his training gear and messaged Beth. She was already halfway to his room, so he stepped outside, waiting for her so that they could head to level seven together.

  “Hey, Theo!” she called as he met her at the corner of his block and the main hallway. “You finally get to join us in weapons. This is going to be awesome! I won’t have to partner with bloody Vanessa anymore!” At least Beth was excited, he thought.

  “Yay...” he said half-heartedly, and she eyed him sideways.

  “That tone had better not be for me,” she snarled at him, punching him in the arm. “Don’t think about them, they can’t really do anything to you, you know?”

  “I know, but they make it fucking exhausting.”

  “Once you are out of Basics, it should get easier. That’s about the only ammunition they have right now,” she said.

  “I know. Even Jo isn’t sure what’s happening, my breathing technique is solid, and I’m almost one hundred per cent consistent with it now. I can get the aether to flow, and can even get some twitches in resonances when we are doing the exercises. We just can’t pinpoint why I haven’t progressed into tier one yet.” Theo had become increasingly frustrated with his attempts over the past few weeks. He felt like it was working, and he felt stronger, but it was as though the aether had a mind of its own and refused to finalise the first tier.

  “Well, whatever is going on, it’s doing something. Your hits don’t feel like you’re throwing cotton wool anymore. And look at those guns!” She growled at him seductively before bursting into laughter. Theo joined in.

  “That’s true,” he said. “And my arms don’t go completely numb anymore. I thought that was just muscle growth though to be honest.”

  “Not likely, because I’ve actually jumped into Body Three since classes started, so I’m hitting harder as well!” Theo groaned at the reminder of his failure to progress, and his friends’ continued successes.

  “Don’t dwell on it, Theo. As I said, something is obviously working, right? It may just be that because of your background you need more aether for each tier? The rest of us have all been brought up in this world and knew about all this stuff much earlier than you. Maybe it’s just that we have lived in a world that’s been saturated by aether, both physically and metaphorically.”

  Theo looked at her strangely, that was the smartest thing he had ever heard Beth say.

  “Don’t look at me like that, I know stuff.” Beth said defensively. She punched him in the arm. Hard.

  “Ow! That fucking hurt, Miss Tier Three.” Theo rubbed his arm, trying to shift his inner tension as he did so. He breathed out heavily. Beth just laughed at him.

  “You got this!” Beth said, doing her best cheerleader impression and bouncing around the hallway. “Let’s do this!” The pep squad was getting a bit out of hand, and Theo told her so, earning himself another slap. They were passing the gym as this was happening, earning a few stares from the other students in the area. They both laughed, moving further down the hallway towards the martial arts rooms, with Beth in the lead.

  They were getting close to the weapons training room when Theo noticed a group of students clustered around the entrance. He recognised some of the faces and groaned inwardly. They were all part of Jason’s royal goon squad. He was about to call out to Beth, when a foot snaked out from one of the adjoining hallways as they moved past, just barely missing Beth and tripping Theo. A grinning Jason moved to join them, smiling broadly.

  “Oops, sorry about that,” he said in a dramatically concerned tone. “Didn’t hear you guys coming. You both pumped for class?” He exuded sincerity.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “Jason, you dick!” Beth’s anger was radiant as she turned back towards Theo.

  “So sorry, total accident. Hope you’re ok there, mate?” Jason grinned, pretending to offer him assistance to get up. Theo ignored the outstretched hand, and Jason shrugged as he moved past them with a smirk, merging with the group loitering at the door. They all started laughing as they entered the room.

  Theo stood there watching as Beth slowly threatened to explode. He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her forward towards the class, whispering to her as he did so. “I knew something was going to happen, I’m just glad it’s now and not when they have weapons in their hands.”

  “They wouldn’t dare; Frank would flay them!” she hissed. “Aargh, I’m so angry right now!” She glared at the group as they made their way past them in the classroom earning another round of chuckles. They set themselves up towards the front of the class on the right-hand side, well away from Jason and his toadies.

  “Breathe, Beth, you know giving them a reaction just encourages them, right?” Theo said.

  “I know! I can’t help it. It makes me so damn mad.”

  “Well, can you at least not take it out on me with whatever weapons we are playing with today?” he asked plaintively. She looked at him before snorting and laughing softly.

  “Fair call. I would have too, you know.”

  “I know! My arm still throbs from that time Vanessa pissed you off in boxing class.”

  “I’m will burn that bitch’s hair one day!” she growled. “Flicking it around like a fucking high school dance class. What a mess.”

  “So… calm and collected, right?” Theo asked with mock desperation.

  “Fine,” she huffed.

  It was in that moment that Frank made his entrance, and Theo was not prepared for the shock. Surprisingly, he had never actually asked his friends what the man looked like. He was expecting a mountain, instead a short, balding, grey-haired man wearing a martial arts Gi made his way to the front and centre of the room. He looked around at the assembled students, his gaze stopping briefly on Theo, before coming back to the class as a whole.

  “Good morning, everyone. Please settle yourselves and begin stretching out for the next ten minutes. We will then begin with pairs warm up, before moving on to stances.” His voice was soft and melodic, almost hypnotic in its cadence. Despite his appearance, everyone followed the instructions with silent obedience. Theo looked towards Beth in confusion as he began his stretches.

  “Don’t be fooled by the look,” she whispered. “He is a brutal machine. If you step out of line, he’ll pull you up front to help demonstrate one of the weapons later in the class. His face never changes, but you can feel the rage. He never forgets. He made one of the guys cry in the last class, almost broke his arm.” She closed her mouth abruptly, silently shifting into another stretch away from Theo.

  As he side-stretched the other way, he noticed Frank approaching them slowly.

  “Theo, is it?”

  “Umm, yes sir,” Theo said, pausing in his stretches. Frank had vibrant grey eyes and thick black brows that matched a few of the valiant survivors on the sides of his head. His eyes scanned the room like a bird of prey, stopping briefly to dissect Theo before moving on.

  “Keep stretching boy, I’m sure you can do two things at once,” he instructed, whilst continuing to watch the rest of the class. “You’ll be a bit behind your peers, so follow along as you can today. Beth, get him up to speed on what has been covered over the past few weeks as we go. Do not disturb the rest of the students while you do so.” Beth gave him a quick affirmative.

  “Theo, I have an hour free every second day between eleven and twelve. I have let Allen know that for the next few months you will be having one on ones with me during that time.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Theo said.

  “I despise tardiness, Theo. Ensure you are not late.”

  “Of course, sir.” Theo noted Beth’s look of sympathy as Frank made an abrupt departure to continue roaming the class, periodically stopping to chat with some of the other students.

  “I’m so sorry, Theo,” she whispered as she began stretching out her hamstrings.

  “It’s not a death sentence Beth. It can’t really be that bad.”

  * * *

  By the end of the day, Theo had needed to retreat away from everyone, making his way to his favourite place to unwind, the library on level nine. He had always found comfort in libraries; there was just something about the smell of old books that felt like home. A welcoming gloom filled the spaces between stacks, intermittently broken by warm lamps that hung from walls or dropped down from the ceiling above.

  He had found himself a secluded couch that was tucked away in an alcove between two looming shelves. To his left were a collection of histories on aetheric anomalies and to his right were various biographies of historical cultivators. He had been particularly amused by some of the well-known names in the biographical section and had even flipped through the pages on Bea Miles for a while.

  Only a few of his fellow students utilised the library beyond taking out the occasional book, so he was rarely disturbed. The hush throughout the spacious and meandering bookshelves was calming after the physically and emotionally draining day. Making his way there of an evening had become his habit to wind down, gaining some much-needed peace.

  A lamp shone beside his couch as he perused one of the books that he had found on body cultivation, his legs crossed under him and a fingernail between his teeth. The book was bound in a faded brown leather with barely legible writing on the cover. It had fallen on his head in a cloud of dust whilst reaching for a book that had been recommended by Master Vincent in his Radiant Division class.

  Having blown off the accumulated dust, and survived the sneeze cluster that followed, he could just barely make out the title, Expedience of Bodi Cultyvating. He had flashed back to his previous discussions with Jo and had decided to see if there were any insights that might be useful. He had yet to get through even the first tier of his body cultivation, and was starting to feel anxious, particularly given the jeers of his fellow students. His new friends were helpful, but progress would be the best deterrent.

  It was clear that the book had not been read for some time. It had been partially eroded by mildew along the page’s edges, with the writing faded, but still legible. He could guess from the title that this book had been written some time ago. The introduction had taken time to plough through as he had needed to pull out a translator to make his way through it.

  Cultyvatyr, unheden! Focis not onli thyne tending, but eek thyne spirit to the task onhende. Onli whan yntuityn gydes thyne quill ys the tale ful tolden.

  Focis fyrst on the strems whiche doth upformeth the myghti rivere bifore thou dost focis thyne myghte upon the lond whiche it doth nourish.

  To fynd thine pathe, one’s ie must tyrn ynward to followe the quiknesse and forge channels of lyghte.

  Seke not fyrst the skye, nor the mountayn, but the core from whiche it forme. Seke not infolwen, nor leden, lest thee fynd thyself diswaried.

  He quickly flipped through the pages of the short book, sneezing again at the disturbed dust rising from its pages. He glanced at the final lines of the book.

  Seke not to hasten thine faren, lest thee finde an endinge violentere. Agropen the windinge strem to knouen thyne self.

  Whan thyne triumvirate-self alygns yn harmony, onli thanne will thyne mortal coil unwynd, and hevens path unfolden.

  He closed the book, finger held loosely within the pages as he let the imagery drift through his mind’s eye. He wasn’t sure if there was anything practical or useful in what he had read, but the feel of the words sat… lightly. Sighing, he reflected on the growing trend of modern language to package things tightly into smaller and smaller boxes. There was something liberating in the lyrical allegory of the old language.

  He turned back to the translator on his phone as he was about to begin on the second chapter when he noticed the time. As always, he had become lost in his reading and ruminations, but refreshed by the time he had had to slow down and reflect. He grabbed the book, and the few others he had gathered but had not yet finished, stopping briefly to sign them out before making his way back to his room. He would get through a translation of the book seeing as though it wasn’t that big but would chat to Jo about it after.

  ? ? ?

  MIRROR KING

  A LitRPG Adventure

  Gregory Zell is a relatively normal, thirty-year-old paramedic living in Northern California.

  Life is good. He owns his own home, has a wonderful wife, a couple of dogs, and plenty of friends. Until the day he drops an ancient mirror down a staircase in San Francisco.

  In trying to catch it, he falls.

  The mirror does not break.

  It swallows him.

  Greg awakens in a world where magic is real, power is earned through mysterious books, and nearly everything is trying to kill him.

  His goal: grow powerful enough to return home… and bring those he loves with him.

  ? ? ?

  What Awaits Within These Pages

  ? 2–3.5k words per chapter

  ? Mature, weak-to-strong progression

  ? RPG-lite system

  ? Skill-focused advancement

  ? Language, gore, horror elements

  ? ? ?