I relished the final dregs of the drink, swishing them around my mouth. There had been a bit of sediment at the bottom of the glass, but if anything, it had enhanced the flavor.

Nodding to the old man, I walked around the bar towards the door.

He didn't attempt to stop me, just watched my progress with a bit of worry visible in his wrinkled features. I gave him my best smile to try to ease his worry, but at that, his concern only deepened.

I stopped by the entrance, leaning back to look at him.

"What was that drink called, anyway?" I asked.

"Sassafras," he replied.

I grinned even wider. "No wonder I liked it so much," I said. "It fits me to a T. Or maybe an S."

Then I walked through.

A wave of anger from the field rolled over me, the claws becoming knives, screeching off my form so aggressively I was surprised I couldn't hear the wails of them dulling themselves on my impenetrable exterior.

The hallway in the back was dark, long, and far too dank for my liking. Somehow the humidity back here was higher than the front and the outside, to the point it felt like it was trying to sit on me directly, just a big column of water relaxing like I was a comfy chair.

There were three doors, all on the right side. My vibes acted up to tell me to look into the center one, and when the vibes vibe, I listen. Or whatever one does with their instincts.

Going in the room, there was almost no light, and I doubt I would have seen much without my vision. With it however, I could see there was plenty going on. Not so much in a physical sense, but, I could see that there was something on the floor. I was pretty sure it was a seal, but it didn't look like anything I'd seen before.

Instead of the orderly arrangements of István's seals - with concise, finely drawn symbology that was tightly packed and well constrained - this featured ones that were written in a style that I could only define as 'bird fending off a hungry cat'. The strokes were loose and slapdash, placed seemingly at random. I knew very little about the features of seals, not having put nearly enough time into it when I'd observed István's work in the past.

The room had nothing else in it. Just a beat up wooden floor, walls that at one point had been many shades whiter than they currently were, and a small apportionment of cobwebs.

The wall material was interesting, it had the look of being applied by hand. And I don't mean tools, I mean literal hands. I swore I could see the palm strokes used to smooth the surface.

The material itself had a coarseness about it reminded me of the frosting Gran used on her carrot cake. Just kind of bumpy and fun.

I suddenly noticed I wasn't getting attacked enough, probably because I went all squirrel on the wall. I snapped my attention back to the seal, and immediately the scratching and clawing on me increased.

That's better.

I plopped down just outside the radius of the seal, with it comprising an interesting half-circle across the floorboards.

I focused my vision on it, bringing a flicker of light to the darkened space with their unintentional illumination. Unlike the field, the seal was a rich tapestry of power, although none of it was something I'd recognize as Nebula. No, this was much closer to the Umbral Covenant's energy, although not quite. It was weird that in a world filled with Nebula, they'd be going out of their way to utilize… this.

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I prodded at it mentally, and it scattered slightly, leading to a shudder from the field that manifested in the metaphysical 'claws' tearing at me halting momentarily, as if reminded of their mortality.

Without knowing where Elder Scholar was, I wasn't about to just apply force and destroy it outright, even though part (okay, a lot) of me really wanted to.

It flows from here… to here… to here… I traced the patterns mentally, homing in on one specific glyph in the sea of them, a mangled slash of strokes that seemed almost like an asterisk. It pulsed regularly, like a heartbeat, and from it, all the energy of the seal flowed forth.

I leaned my power on it. It proved more robust than its comrades, seeming to push back as the claws once again halted, this time manifesting visibly in the air around me as they did so. They shuddered and shook, almost like they were… scared? It was weird to see.

Definitely meant I was on the right track though. So I continued pushing, putting my 'back into it'. There was a sudden high-pitched snap, and the wall at the midpoint of the circle vanished, revealing that it was in fact half of a complete one, with a man sitting on the other side. I felt a little tug from behind me as well.

He was thin and tall, and his eyes were as wild as the strokes of his seal. I watched the flow of power break off from him and back up, sending him sprawling backwards. It appeared he hadn't even realized I was there yet.

"You broke it," came a disappointed voice, and I turned my gaze to see István. He was tied to a chair, which judging from the scrapes in the dust on the floor, he'd scooted over to the seal. To examine it, clearly, since he was still looking at the fading pattern, as though to pack it into his head as it disappeared.

"Well, you're welcome," I said to him, earning an odd look.

"I would have gotten free at which point I was done here," he said, but even he didn't sound entirely convinced by himself.

"You!" Came a voice from the other said, cutting our conversation off. "How?" The man was holding his head, unsteady, even though he was sitting. His torso made small rotations as he sought to hold himself upright. Was this backlash caused by what I did? That's great.

They always say one should endeavor to keep their opponents off balance. Although I'm sure the advice was probably meant more figuratively than literally.

"How what?" I said, even though I knew what he meant. I'd picked up a few tricks from Celistar on how to fish surreptitiously for information.

"You… Your…. Actions. They disrupted my work!" The start of the sentence - if you could call it that - started low, almost a whisper, but he seemed to gain moment and at the end it was almost a shout. Although the noise definitely didn't seem to have done him any favors.

"Yes. What of it?" I said, as though I had just ordered tea at a restaurant. Mmm, tea. I should check if the bartender had any of that, although that Sassparilla… Sassafrass… something 'sass' related… was pretty good as well.

The man seemed to recombobulate himself a bit more. "Why are you immune," He hissed, his voice quieter this time for his own benefit, not that I minded. His raspy, shrieking voice wasn't one for the ears. "This man was as well."

I looked over at István. "You mean you weren't bewitched for him to get you here?"

Elder Scholar looked embarrassed, one of the few times I'd seen him look that way. "No," he said, scratching the back of his head, "I felt something odd over here and went to investigate. This individual got the best of me while I was examining his creation and stunned me just long enough to restrain me here." His hand came away from his scalp with flakes of dried blood on it.

"Well," I said, that explains him. "As for me…"

The source of the feeling I'd noticed earlier came down the hallway.

Viktor lead the way into the room, ducking to fit through the door, likely there in case I needed some help. Then Celistar followed. Lastly, a familiar face.

"We meet again!" I said brightly, waving at myself. A carbon copy of me, like looking in the mirror.

"So we do," the original replied. "You want to do the honors?"

I turned back to the man, whose already protruding eyes looked about ready to pop out of his skull upon seeing a pair of Chars standing in the room, looking at him.

I marched over to him and held up my fists in front of his face. "Would you like biff, or pow?"

"Biff? Pow?" He asked, clearly confused. I smiled.

"Both it is!" I said, intermingling my fingers each other and winding back like I had a stick or a sword in them, before bringing them back into his face with all my strength.

There was a pop, and he flew backwards into the wall, collapsing into a heap and bleeding profusely from the nose. I looked down at my hands.

Or rather, the ends of my arms… as the hands had disappeared, and streams of golden Nebula rose from the stumps like smoke.

"Oops," I said.

For once István seemed completely speechless.

I walked back towards myself who was standing with a hand on her hip, as though amused at my inability to do so.

"I suppose I should go back, huh?" I asked.

"Probably," I said. "I'm not sure I want to know the long-term effects of this."

"Fair," I replied. "May I say one final thing before I go?"

"Sure," I allowed myself.

"It's been fun, I'd like to do it again sometime."

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