Issac woke to something digging into the small of his back. Hard and slightly uncomfortable, the pain compared little to the one in his chest. It felt like the numbness one would get from ice being placed on flesh. He lifted his hands to touch it, but someone slapped it away.

  Where the hell was he again?

  Sun rays did their best to penetrate gray clouds as a figure knelt above him, their features hidden by the sun’s glare.

  “What the hell happened?” he asked.

  “I whipped that ass,” said a voice he recognized. “If it wasn’t for Felicity, things would have gone a lot worse for you.”

  Ah. The Healer.

  “Name’s Aja. I’m told yours is Isaac.”

  “That it is.”

  “Well, Isaac, what brings a man like yourself to these backwoods that were once called the Green Emerald domain?”

  “Looking for you.”

  She said nothing as her hands hovered inches from his torso and glowed. A feeling that reminded him of dipping into a warm bath washed over him. She continued to run her glowing hands up and down his body as the pain he felt slowly subsided.

  “I’m not sure why,” continued Isaac. “But Smith has tasked me with escorting you to the Cloudwalker Islands.”

  “Has he now?”

  “You must be pretty important to him.”

  Aja snorted. “If I was so important, then he would come and collect me himself.” She shook her head. “No. That isn’t fair. He’s given me everything I could ask for. By him asking you to escort me to the Cloudwalker Islands, it’s his way of keeping tabs on me. Of making sure that I keep myself out of trouble.”

  “What trouble would someone like yourself be in?”

  “Oh, you know, healing the sick and underprivileged. Being a voice for the downtrodden. Not profiting from my healing abilities. Little things that the rich and powerful hate. Not to mention the DynastyHealers Collective hate when they don’t get their cut.”

  “DynastyHealers Collective? They sound like an evil corporation trying to masquerade as a charity group.”

  “Exactly. The wanky name should tell you everything you need to know. The DynastyHealers Collective or DHC, as they are commonly known, tries to recruit everyone with a healing ability. They say the reason they do this is because healers are vulnerable and, without their protection, they’ll be taken advantage of or made to work against their will. But the irony is they register every fucker with a healing ability and make sure that you pay them a percentage of your earnings for said privilege.

  “If you don’t register with them, then they turn nasty.”

  “When I thought this planet couldn’t get any worse.”

  “This is The Other Side, Isaac. Where there is a profit to be made, someone will make it.”

  “How come I didn’t hear about them in Noobcity?”

  “They don’t have a presence in Noobcity as there isn’t enough wealth there for their liking. But the further you travel, the more you’ll see their grubby little fingers everywhere. Trying their best to monopolize on the healing powers of this world.”

  “Why are healers needed if health potions exist?”

  “Not every wound can be healed by a potion. Some wounds that scar the soul can only be healed by a healer. Even then, it’ll take a healer of great skill and Aura ability of an Archduke or even King to heal that person completely.”

  Her hands stopped glowing, and she pulled away from him as he sat up. He ran his hands down himself and found he was as good as new.

  “To be honest,” she said, “your injuries were not that severe. Your body would have healed itself in an hour or so, but this way is quicker.”

  “Thank you,” said Isaac, standing up. “You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it. Again, I was being honest with you when I said that we are no threat to you or the people here.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. But Felicity told me everything. Trust my father to lead you on a wild goose chase without giving you all the details. Anyway, let me see to your musclebound friend, then we can talk.”

  Isaac stood with his mouth hanging open while he watched her walk away. “Wait. Father? Wait. What? Father? Smith!”

  ***

  Issac, Felicity, Francisco, and Aja sat in a room that was bare bones, to say the least.

  Isaac believed it could have once been someone’s living room—though it was hard to tell. The walls were stripped of paint, pictures, and anything resembling decoration. A round dining table rested in the center, crowned by a bowl of fruit that had definitely seen better days. The only thing worthwhile in the room was a fireplace—and even that was pitiful as it tried its best to combat the frosty night breeze that wormed its way through the multiple cracks in the walls and ceiling.

  Francisco looked around the room like he had smelled something off before addressing Isaac. “You take me to all the fanciest places, don’t you?”

  Felicity patted Francisco on the thigh. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, if you behave, Momma will take you somewhere nice.”

  “I’m not being asked to be taken anywhere expensive. Just somewhere where I can sleep without finding a stick up my ass in the morning or having my ear fucked by some horny rat.”

  “And like we keep telling you, if you stop trying to sleep with every barmaid at every inn, pub, and tavern we stop at, then maybe, just maybe, we’ll be able to spend the night without being chased by someone’s husband, brother, or father. How hard is it not to try to fuck everything you come across?”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Francisco gave her a slimy smile. “Well, Flic, what can I say? When you’re like me, blessed and cursed with high testosterone levels, then it’s difficult—”

  “Anyway,” said Isaac, cutting Francisco off and turning to Aja. “Tell me again how you’re Smith’s daughter?”

  Aja smiled as a polite knock sounded on the door. “Come in.” A middle-aged white woman with graying hair walked toward them carrying a tray with a pot of tea and four mugs. She placed the mugs down in front of each of them before filling their cups.

  The smell of spicy peppermint tickled Isaac’s nose.

  Aja grabbed the woman’s hand as she went to leave. “How is your husband? Has the disease come back?”

  The woman gave Aja a deep bow. “No, your powers have completely cured him of all signs of the disease. He is still ill, but there are no signs on his skin of any infection.”

  Aja smiled. “That’s good. I’ll be round to check on the rest of the patients shortly.”

  “A plague?” asked Isaac.

  “Something like that.” She took a sip of tea. “I am Smith’s daughter, but not by birth. As you know, it is near impossible to get pregnant on The Other Side, and those who are born here are called The Descendants. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Being born on The Other Side isn’t a death sentence, but for those who are born here, if they are lucky, the only thing that will separate them from their race is some form of deformity. Eye color not matching, being taller than most of their kind, things of that nature. But that isn’t the norm. The norm when it comes to Descendants is for them to be a mix of psychopath and sociopath.

  “Most find it hard to cope with their emotions and will kill their own mother if they think they can profit from it. They are the worst of the worst. In a land of liars, killers, cheats, mass murders, and con artists, Descendants are the worst kind.

  “No. I was adopted by Smith, like so many others before me. People with power or wealth do it all the time.”

  “I still don’t understand,” said Isaac. “When I asked him about his family, he said he had none.”

  Aja rolled her eyes. “Of course that miserable asshole would say that. Maybe daughter isn’t the right word. I should have said protégé. But that still isn’t right. The higher you get up the Aura ranks, the lonelier it becomes. When you get to Queens and Emperors, they have lived for such a long time and will continue to do so until they are killed. They get lonely. Those whose children and family didn’t come with them to The Other Side, or were killed during their campaign to gain power, seek someone to pass down their knowledge. Someone that they can mold and build in their own image.

  “Like all powerful and rich assholes, they want a legacy. So there are those in power who will adopt a person and help them grow. Help them climb the mountain.”

  Felicity gave Aja a narrowed stare. “And they do this out of the kindness of their hearts?”

  Aja laughed. “No. Once you are adopted, you must take the person’s House name, discarding your last name. Also, their goal becomes yours. Mainly to further the House name. Even if it means your death, you must do everything in your power to make sure the House name survives. To make sure it lives on. To make sure their legacy lives on.”

  Francisco shook his head. “Sounds like a shitty deal.”

  “Think of it this way. When you first arrived, think of the overwhelming nature of it all. Think of the number of times you could have died if one of your mentors didn’t take you under their wing. Now, replay that emotion again and again. You are never safe. Even when you get to the level of Archduchess, which takes decades. You are never safe from someone killing you or using you for their own means. By pledging your allegiance to a House, guild, or group, there is less chance of you being touched. It’s an honor people kill for. Just to have that name—that House—backing you, it takes a weight off your shoulders that can’t be described.”

  Isaac listened to it all but still couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

  Aja smirked as she saw his expression. “Say what you need to.”

  “It just…it just doesn’t sit right with me. I mean, I understand the need for safety in numbers, having the backing of someone powerful to watch your back, but it feels like a copout. It feels like the easy way out. To ride on someone’s coattails because you are too scared to forge your own path.” He looked to Aja, whose expression he couldn’t read. “No offense—”

  “None taken.”

  “But I came to this place to become number one. To change the way things are. To rewrite history. And I can’t do that if I am following someone else’s plan. Protecting someone else’s dream.”

  Aja nodded. “Not everyone who comes here has your goal, Issac. Some just want to get rich. Some just want whatever power they can grab. The days of people looking to become The King of Kings, The God Above All Gods, have since passed. Now, fuckers are just happy to have some coin in their back pocket and a few people to sleep with.”

  Isaac shook his head. “I don’t understand—”

  “The climb destroys hopes and dreams. When faced with their own mortality—when faced with the things they would need to sacrifice to fulfill their goals—many people quit. Happy to grab whatever little trinkets they can.”

  Isaac sipped at his tea as warmth settled in his stomach while he wrestled with his thoughts.

  “So what happened there, then?” asked Francisco. “I heard something back at Noobcity about this place getting attacked by the Baldwins, but it sounded like rumors. No one was really sure.”

  Aja held her mug of tea in her hands, embracing its warmth. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I arrived here long after the battle was done. I came here because there was a disease outbreak that needed addressing. Speaking to the locals, it appears someone from the Baldwin Estate demanded that the leader of this domain hand over all rights to the Baldwin Estate.”

  “Do you know who the Baldwin representative was?” asked Felicity.

  “The ones that would have known are dead,” said Aja. “The survivors were too busy looking for safety to get a proper look. Even if someone knew, they were too scared to say anything. All I know is that it wasn’t an army or even a group that did this. By all accounts, it was just one man standing outside the gates. One man who didn’t appear to take his role all that seriously. One man who came with a marching band. One man who rained down green death.”

  Isaac looked at Francisco and Felicity. “Anyone like that sound familiar?” They both shook their heads. He frowned before turning back to Aja. “So why are you still here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Like I said, I came here because there was a disease outbreak. An outbreak that has made its way from the Cloudwalker domain. But by the time I got here, most of the infected were dead. I help people. Go from war zone to war zone, city to city, town to town, helping poor fuckers who can’t help themselves. I heal what injuries and diseases I can, feed the hungry, then move on to my next disaster. Normally my work just involves dealing with plague outbreaks, but occasionally I get mixed in a war zone. If I have the power, I fight against the oppressors who are harming the people, but my strengths are not best suited for that. Healers do not make good warriors.”

  “A noble cause.”

  “You wouldn’t think so,” huffed Aja, “by the amount of trouble I find myself in fighting the DynastyHealers Collective.”

  “And they are…” said Francisco.

  “A bunch of fuckers who profit from healing and will come down on you like a ton of bricks if you do it for free.”

  “Typical,” said Francisco, “that’s why I never give to charity.”

  Felicity gave him a look. “Sure, that’s why.”

  “So,” said Isaac, “we are here to escort you to the Cloudwalker Islands. Let us know what you need from us to help you out before we make a move.”

  Aja smiled at him sweetly. Shit. Isaac knew that smile. Smith sent it his way more times than he could count. It meant trouble.

  “I’m not leaving anywhere until the problem with the bandits is taken care of.”

  “Bandits?”

  “The ones who ambushed you in the forest. The ones who keep attacking these poor people, although they have nothing left to give.”

  Isaac shook his head. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “Part of the plan or not, I’m not leaving here until I know these people are safe.”

  “I’m not risking the lives of my—”

  Aja shot up to her feet, fire in her eyes. “You either help me get rid of these bandits or I’m not going anywhere. And good luck with finding the entrance to the Cloudwalker Islands without me.” She turned on her heel, slamming the door behind her.

  “Well,” said Francisco, in the silence that followed. “That could have gone better.”

  “No shit Sherlock,” said Isaac, rubbing his temples as the first signs of a migraine started to form.