I think back upon Greyfeld's warning. What is void magic, really? And why is it illegal? I don't know all that much about the void. I've heard from some miners that there are holes leading to the void somewhere deep underground, hiding in the space between the lowest layers of bedrock. I've also heard that the void will annihilate anything it touches with the exception of bedrock itself... although according to Jonas and Dan, it seems that Endermen and obsidian are also immune to its destructive power. Exactly why it's so destructive, however, I have no idea.

I think back upon the first nightmare within the infinite library, where I had my intimate encounter with that all-destroying, malicious void. The pain of the void feels distinct from all other things; I retaliate in vengeful anger to the memory of its flame. It is hard quantify what I would be willing to give up to avoid feeling that pain again. How much more I would give up to forget the memory that it ever happened...

My hand wanders into my pocket, grasping the Book and opening it.

"It would be irresponsible for you to forget the memory of the void. That would be equivalent to forgetting evil in a search for moral truth. The memory of the void brings contrast to our goals. We seek greatness... power... prestige... but if we fail to find it, we are no better than fuel for the void's flames. That is not what you want, is it? Surely you want to avoid that terrible pain..."

The fear of the void begins to expand within me, but I repress it with a great struggle. You're trying to manipulate me, aren't you? You think you can use the threat of the void as an incentive to get me to do what you want... but you also won't go as far as to make me experience it again, because you can't stand the way it made you feel.

"That is far from the truth, I am afraid. I am far too familiar with the void to be bothered by tiny, miniscule snippets of memories such as the ones I show you in your dreams. Your definition of excruciating pain is quite foreign from my own... not that I would ever use that against you. Your future experience of the void, if it should ever happen, would not be of my own volition. Instead, it would be an inevitable consequence of your own guilt."

Fear turns to confusion. The sensation of trying to wade through my mind for the correct thoughts reminds me of the futility of trying to stay awake in bed with eyes closed, when dreams begin to flash incongruently in the mind with increasing strength, drowning out coherent thoughts.

Why would I ever feel guilty, unless you made me feel that way? You're just trying to hide the fact that you're trying to influence me. You want to catch me off guard by making me feel as if there is no threat to my own willpower, to make it easier to control me. You want to make it seem as if I'm in control, when I'm really not in control at all. But that's not what I mean by that. Wait, that doesn't make any sense, I...

Anger brews as I sift fruitlessly for ideas. It seems pointless to argue against the Book's congruent thoughts, its far superior logic seeming to make it unquestionably true.

"I think what you are trying to explain is the difference between free will and free judgment. You may have many conflicting thoughts of how to approach the future, some of which reflect your ideal desires. However, when it comes time to make a decision, there is only one obvious choice. Willpower is no more than the entertainment of impossible options."

What are you trying to say? That I don't have a choice?

"Hey there," Dan unknowingly cuts off our silent conversation. I put the book in my pocket and turn around, my eyes falling upon the cloaked magician carrying an empty basket filled with cloth. "Would you mind accompanying me to the market?"

I am abruptly returned to practical reality, the resentment of the argument with the book slowly fading away. "Um, no, not at all. I could use a walk." Especially after the mental weariness the Book made me feel.

We begin walking toward the gravel road. The Book projects a sense of annoyance. "You must give up this ridiculous delusion of yours that I'm trying to manipulate you. The fact of the matter is that it simply isn't true."

"Jeez, you just have to make it keep going," I accidentally verbalize my thought. Dan appears unphased, to my surprise, his blue eyes peering straight forward as if he never heard me.

After a few minutes of walking through the cool morning air, Dan breathes in, preparing to speak. "So, how did you sleep?"

"Alright, I guess. I woke up abruptly because I had a nightmare, but I don't feel all that tired now. How about you?"

Dan exposes a weak grin. "Eh, well... I actually didn't sleep."

"Why not?"

"I was kept up by magic."

With those few vague words, Dan makes me curious. I take advantage of the moment to try and test Greyfeld's suspicion that Dan is a void magician... and possibly understand what void magic really is. I settle on an obvious question at first, to avoid making Dan seem uneasy. "Why was magic keeping you up?"

"Well, it started off when I decided to help you enchant your armor. When I draw from my pool of magic to perform the enchantments, some of the excess lingers in my body, filling me with energy. Of course, the enchantment on its own wasn't enough to keep me awake; it was what came after." Dan glares at me with a cynical frown. "Next thing I know, you're undead, walking through the fields and shooting at the guards."

I become caught up in the sudden realization that the transformation actually happened, that what I experienced as a skeleton wasn't just a dream. "So I did transform into a skeleton after all..."

"Indeed you did, and you were quite the source of chaos. You could have hurt me if I wasn't as experienced at combat as I am."

I am torn between asking Dan about the magic he used to avoid my arrow and asking Dan about how I became human again. Chances are that Dan will mention the latter either way as he continues with the story of his night. I capitalize on the moment to ask Dan about the nature of his magic. "What was that purple vortex that came out of your hand to stop the arrow that I shot at you?"

"The technical term for it is a void rift," Dan answers without hesitation. "It does exactly what it sounds like it does. It opens a temporary rift into the void. Anything that flows into it is disintegrated."

A void rift could not be associated with anything else but void magic. The connection between the memory of my standoff with Dan last night and Greyfeld's words suddenly clicks. Dan can indeed annihilate objects from existence, just like Greyfeld said void magicians ought to be able to do. But does this mean that Dan can teleport as well... and perhaps even read my mind? I avoid that last thought, hoping that the privacy of my mind isn't invaded by more than one being at this very moment.

"So... void magic, basically?"

"Indeed." Dan adjusts the cloth in his basket. "That is one reason why I couldn't sleep, although the potion-making afterward was more significant."

I nod. "That's when you brewed that potion that made me human again."

"Well, no, actually. It's more complicated than that."

My jaw drops open in shock. "What do you mean you didn't change me back?" Is my human appearance just an illusion?

"All I did was give you a sleeping potion. It was the armor you are wearing that changed you back."

I trip over a pothole in the gravel path I didn't expect, but regain my footing before falling.

I feel a sense of relief, although Dan's specific knowledge about my armor strikes me as suspicious. Is it possible that he knew all along what the enchantment would do to me, but he refused to tell me about it? Is it possible that Dan read my mind in order to find out about my armor? But in that case, would he have known about my intention to kill the guards? And if so, why didn't he take the moral initiative to stop me sooner?

I have to ask him. "How did you know that the armor would change me back?"

Dan nods knowingly. "Therein lies the bulk of my sleep deprivation problem. When you came to me wanting to enchant your armor under the influence of the book, I didn't know what to make of it. When your enchantment turned out to be something I didn't recognize, I became very suspicious. That's when I used a large sum of magic to sift through my library for answers. As it turns out, you are not the first person to wear that enchanted armor; its effects have been documented. Once I found out that the armor could transform you into a skeleton, I figured the book had more immediate plans. The rest, of course, you already know."

We step onto the firm ground of the Zomem town square. The sun is now peeking over the horizon, dimly illuminating several townsfolk leaning against buildings and sitting on the fountain walls.

So Dan didn't really know about the enchantment beforehand. "I see now. But still, why did you let me enchant my armor in the first place, considering the influence the Book may have on me?"

"I simply didn't know what it would lead to. I can only act on knowledge I already have."

"I suppose you're right," I respond.

We enter the alleyway between two cobblestone buildings. The ground is a patchwork of stone bricks, trash, and dirt. As we approach closer, we get a closer view of a stone brick entryway with the door open. Beyond the door is a staircase leading underground. This must be the entrance to the market Dan mentioned, but what is with all these underground tunnels? A torch burns above the door, and on either side of the door there are wooden beams. On the beam on the right is nailed a painted sign:

Mothy's Market Manor

My lips burst open as I let out a spitting chuckle. "What kind of parent names their kid Mothy?"

Dan rolls his eyes. "When you see him, you'll understand. More importantly, however, try to be nice to him when you meet him. The townsfolk hardly give him any respect as it is."