A week had passed since Geralt of Rivia had liberated me from my earthly bindings, and I felt great. Who knew being able to walk for the first time in twenty years would be good for a body without muscles? I was a lich; I couldn't atrophy because I had no muscles to atrophy, but it still felt like I'd achieved Nirvana to be free of those blasted roots.

The first few days of freedom weren't all that eventful. I learned the Bloody Baron was in power and had no real desire to stay in a Velen that was falling apart. Nilfgaard was even more unattractive due to their…militant views on pretty much everything. Redania was similarly off-putting thanks to their extremism. I initially thought to travel far away to Beauclair, but I did not want to run the risk of irritating the vampire presence in and around the city. I did not have my servants with me in this world. If I was drawn into a fight of significant proportions, I would have to deal with it alone, so I elected to stay relatively close for the time being.

In the end, the destination I decided on was Novigrad. It was still a free city. I could not remember if Redania took control of it sometime in the next few years or not – being locked in a literal cave for twenty years wreaked havoc on your memory – but for the time being at least, I would be able to work there unmolested.

A quartet of bandits attempted to rob me as I walked the road to Novigrad, but they were easily dealt with. A single Magic Missile was sufficient to kill them all. It was pathetic. Though it was fortunate they attacked me. I was able to acquire clothes and coinage from them that would allow me to better blend into the backdrop of Novigrad. Were I to stroll into the city in the opulent, heavily enchanted and fortified apparel I wore during the crusade, I imagine I would create several problems for myself straightaway, but noone cared about a random black-haired peasant entering the city. I'd thought it wise to change my appearance after Geralt saw the first. It was simple enough to change my appearance whenever I polymorphed, so I would do my best to keep my 'human' identity separate from my true self. Thus, the construction of my alias.

Harbin Feltburrow was a man from across the sea. Where across the sea? Far across the sea. He was a traveling mage researching the local kingdoms and their use of magic. My cover identity would stand up to very little scrutiny, but it didn't need to. I just needed to stay in the city for a few days to acquire materials and any tomes detailing the local use of magic that I could find before leaving. I had a project I intended to work on now that I was free.

One of the only beneficial things about my imprisonment – the sole other being meeting and interacting with Umoya – was that I had been forcefully made to rest. I couldn't use magic, and I couldn't even move. Thus, my soul healed far faster from the loss of my phylactery than it would have otherwise. I'd expected it to be fifty years before I was capable of crafting a replacement for the phylactery I tossed into the Worldwound, but with some unappreciated help from the magical prison of the Crones of Crookback Bog, I was already recovered enough to craft a new phylactery. Forced bedrest and an inability to use magic were great for letting your soul stitch itself back together in peace. It was possible the addition of a third soul to the disjointed mess I already had played a role in fortifying it enough to create another phylactery, but I didn't much care. I was able to make another phylactery, and that was all that really mattered. I just needed to gather some materials from Novigrad, then I would find a hole in the ground somewhere where I could conduct my work without being disturbed.

Aside from my encounter with the bandits and an attack by a group of drowners I disposed of without issue, my journey to Novigrad was uneventful. There was a long line to get into the city with wagons and people astride horses as well as those on foot like myself. Carriages bypassed the line, cantering right through the gate with no issue from the guards – the privileges of the elite no doubt. When it came to my turn to be 'inspected', the guards made a fuss about my lack of documentation. Luckily, the guards were brutish and easily placated by a meager bribe. I would prefer to avoid killing in the city if at all possible, so losing a few coins was worth not having to trouble with disposing of the corpse.

The city was…not what I'd expected. I was used to Drezen and its many layers of fortifications with few amenities to entertain the populace. Drezen was a military garrison, not a true city. As I'd come to find, the difference was stark. Rows and rows of houses and shops lined the cobbled streets of the city. Banners and other colorful flags flew from walls, houses and lines in the air that wove between various structures. People bartered in the street, danced near musicians plucking at instruments, corralled children and went about their lives. Aside from the glaring technological difference, the lives led here were not too dissimilar from those on Earth. People were just living, not a care for the war waging outside their walls as Redania and Nilfgard beat against each other's doors. I imagined their ignorant bliss would not last long. The war would reach their doors soon enough, and then they would be begging for someone to come to their aid like they refused to aid the surrounding towns embroiled in the war.

Not that I cared one way or the other what happened to the city once I left. It was merely an observation. I had a purpose for coming here, and would leave the moment it was completed. I had other things to get to afterall. Once my phylactery was complete, I planned to begin research into the many gateways between worlds present since the Conjunction of the Spheres ravaged this and many worlds like it. As far as I knew, Golarion was not involved in that event in any way, but knowledge of the gates in this world may guide me to a path I could follow home. I was not nearly as gifted in the realm of planar magics as my mother, but I knew a thing or two.

I found myself chuckling as a part of me lamented that the 'character' I was stuck as was from Pathfinder Wrath of the Righteous and not the tabletop version of the game. A spell existed in the tabletop game called Plane Shift, allowing the user to traverse the planes at will. This spell would allow me to travel hom immediately, but my 'character' never learned it. From a 'meta' perspective – what fun terms – this change was due to the fact the game creators did not want the player just waltzing into high level areas without reaching them properly. From living through the events of the 'game', I knew the true reason I knew no such spell was because I never happened across such a spell. Zacharius, The Storyteller, Tsai – none of them spoke of such a spell nor offered it to me, and I was unable to locate it in my travels. Had I, I would have copied it to my spellbook as I had even the most obscure of magic I happened upon.

It didn't matter in the end. The fact the spell existed at all meant I would be able to learn it given time and research. I would locate the gate beneath Novigrad and make observations of it, taking samples of the energy in the area with crystals, then leave. Once my phylactery was complete, I would move on to trying to recreate the Plane Shift spell. But that could wait until later.

After over an hour of searching and asking around, it became lear to me that people in Novigrad had already begun to distrust magic. I say distrust, but what I should say is abhor. There was evidence of pyre burnings in the street and the first people I asked about acquiring magical goods – this being before I'd seen the pyres – hastened away from me. They had likely alerted the guards to my presence by now. I stepped into an alley, out of sight of any passersby and polymorphed myself into a different appearance – a man with sandy-blonde hair who was a half-foot taller than my previous disguise.

Since there were no legal means of acquiring what I wanted, I had to switch to more…proactive methods. Novigrad was a powerful city, able to remain independent despite the looming threat of the war. This meant they had their own powerbase to facilitate their independent strength. All I had to do to get what I needed was to borrow some of the materials they would have on hand for their mages, and they definitely had them. Even with the hate in the city, they would not harm their own magical experts until all the others were dealt with. Even if they had, I would still be able to take what I needed from their confiscated items.

With my new plan in place, I headed towards the small keep in the city. Novigrad wasn't a military fortification like Drezen, but any medieval city was poorly designed if it did not have a fallback location for once the outer wall had fallen. These were always where people kept their most interesting and valuable goods. I had no interest in treasures or shiny things. I had come for things of magical significance only and even then only what I needed specifically for my phylactery.

The portcullis was down when I made it to my destination, but that wouldn't stop me. I cast Beast Shape I out of view of the street and turned into a small hawk, flying up and over the wall and through an open window when I saw the room beyond was empty. I returned to my true form once inside and cast Invisibility on myself,walking through the fortress lazily as I searched for what I'd come for. It took me several minutes and a lot of stepping out of the way or guards and servants, but I eventually found a room that was clearly some mage's laboratory. I opened my bag of holding and scooped everything of value into it. Magical books from shelves as well as ones left open on various tables, powdered silver, tools for inscribing runes – I took them all. When I was done, I cast Dimension Door, transporting myself back to the alley I'd transformed into a hawk in.

As I walked down the street, heading towards the general area I recalled the house with the portal Geralt and Avallac'h used, I realized what I had just done with next to no effort on my part. It was frightfully easy to infiltrate one of the most heavily fortified installations on the continent. Without traps, creatures or any form of defense to detect invisible combatants, this entire world was severely behind in their knowledge and use of magic. Perhaps that was a byproduct of their overreliance on witchers? Witchers had dealt with the monster menace so effectively for so long that they actually tried to manufacture a new one, leading to the destruction of Kaer Morhen. If witchers were around to fight the things that went bump in the night, it was possible everyone had grown complacent and secure in the knowledge they wouldn't need to worry about them. A foolish position as evidenced by how easily I had taken advantage of it to acquire the materials I needed.

I wandered the street a while as I tried to remember exactly where the house was, but eventually found it, turning invisible once more and making my way inside. I headed directly to where I remembered the portal opened and began searching around the area. To my vast disappointment, I could not locate the slightest magical signature. It was likely I would need to return when the portal opened in order to study it properly. I still took samples of the area, but I did not expect them to be overly useful in my endeavors.

"Hey!"

I turned around to see a small girl with blue skin spinning in a circle, a frown on her face as she looked around the area.

"I know you're in here! The welcome rug was scuffed. I just finished brushing it!"

I stared down at her in disbelief. I infiltrated the fortress without incident, but a scuffed welcome mat gave me away to a small child? Actually, that wasn't fair. She was a Godling if I remembered the name correctly. They were supposed to be intelligent creatures, right?

"Sarah? What's wrong, dearie?"

"Someone's here, Corinne!" the small Godling said.

You know what? I'd been stuck in a literal stump for twenty years, I wanted to have some fun at someone else's expense.

"Hello!" I said, waving cheerily as I appeared in front of them. I was disguised in the same human visage I'd shown to Geralt.

Both of the room's occupants jumped in surprise, scurrying back away from me. Before either of them could speak, I decided to take the initiative to keep them on the backfoot.

"I apologize for barging in like this, but I couldn't help myself. Did you know you have a hole in reality tucked away in your basement?"

"What? Who are you? What are you doing here!" the woman demanded, picking up a hairbrush off a nearby table and brandishing it at me threateningly.

I raised an eyebrow at the display and put my hands up. "There's no need for that. I'm a… Well, not really a friend per se, but I know Geralt. He helped me out of a bind I was in. Him and an elf are gonna stop by sometime to use the hole in reality in your basement to go talk politics with a general from another world. You know, typical stuff Geralt does on a Tuesday." I smiled warmly at them. They both looked confused, the hostility bleeding out of them as they tried to figure out what I was doing.

"I…What does–"

"Anyway, thanks for being such fine hosts, but it's time I was on my way. Farewell." I cast Dimension Door, giving the duo a parting way before I teleported out of the city.

I adjusted my robes as my magical disguise faded. It wasn't the most successful trip, but I'd acquired what I needed for my primary goal. All that was left was to find some uninhabited cave I could use to conduct a profane ritual to tear my soul out of my body…again. Typical things I did on a Tuesday.

I turned back into a hawk and began searching for somewhere to set up my ritual site.

X

Twenty-five years. It had taken her twenty-five years to locate the plane the Worldwound had cast Astriek to. Areelu Vorlesh had been wandering this blight-infested world for two years, searching desperately for her son. Each and every attempt she made to scry him was met with failure. There were only three reasons this could have happened. The first was that something was interfering with her divinations somehow. It was unlikely, but still possible. The second was that Astriek was on another plane. This was impossible. All signs pointed to this being where Astriek was sent. Areelu and Zacharias were in agreement on that. She would have consulted The Storyteller, but he abandoned their search after the first decade, citing he had other pursuits to occupy his attention. Were Zacharias not fond of the elf for some reason Areelu could not determine, she would have slew him the moment he dared suggest anything was more important than the safety of her son. But she was allowing herself to be distracted. That was unbecoming of a scientist.

The final potential reason her scryings found nothing was… No. No, the final reason was impossible. Astriek was alive. He had conquered death not once, but twice. The first time when his soul reconstituted itself, the second when he followed Zacharias's footsteps into lichdom. She had never seen the appeal of the path herself, seeing the negative aspects of undeath to outweigh the benefits, but she would not deny that her son had excelled. He was able to have the best of both worlds with his Transmutation magic, allowing him to become flesh again at will. It was not the same, but it was sufficient for him nonetheless.

No. Her son was not dead. She knew it in her soul, just as she had known that she could save him all those years ago. Astriek was still alive, and she was so close to finding him.

Areelu stopped at the crest of a hill, staring with narrowed eyes at the great tree across the valley. She could sense dying magic in the air. Something significant had been done here no more than a month ago. Areelu would take no chances.

"Suture." Areelu called as she cast several protective spells over herself as well as spells to make her stronger.

"Yes, mistress?" the demon said, turning visible at her side.

"Ready the others. If my son is here, they will cover my retreat as I escape with him."

"At once, my lady." The Suture said with a bow before he scurried off to carry out her orders.

Areelu Vorlesh had sundered the world for her son. She followed him across uncharted planes. She spent years searching for him. She would not allow a last minute surprise to ruin her work.

Areelu's wings beat against the air as she flew across the valley, landing at the foot of the great tree. She was cautious as she approached, her eyes and mystical senses primed as they sought any enemies. Areelu found nothing. No one. This couldn't be right.

There was an entrance to a cave below her. Slowly, she approached. With a wave of her hand, the dark interior of the cave was illuminated by pulsing globules of light. Areelu froze in the entrance to the cave. The walls and ceiling were covered in withering roots, slowly dying a painful death. The center of the cavern held the Witch of the Worldwound's attention. There, she saw a collection of roots that seemed as though they had encased a bipedal form.

Areelu cast analysis spells. The dead magic in the tree was designed to sap away strength and magic – power in any form. Areelu's fist shook in rage. The shape of the roots matched his build. The roots would have prevented the use of magic, ensuring he remained trapped. The roots would have negated any attempt to scry his location, leaving her blind to the plight of her son for years as she scoured this diseased land. Areelu was seething. Someone would die. She did not know who yet.

"You are Areelu Vorlesh." the echoey voice of an old woman said from the shadows in front of her.

"Reveal yourself." Areelu growled.

Stepping from the shadows was a dark horse with glowing, crimson eyes. "I am Umoya. Astriek spoke of you at length."

A fireball appeared over Areelu's hand as she walked forward threateningly. "You will tell me everything you know about my son's fate."

"Astriek was my brother in binds. The Worldwound he spoke of transported him to my prison. The prison recognized he was similar to me and entrapped him as it had me. Neither of us could escape on our own. Astriek was freed when I was freed – eleven suns past."

Areelu felt a surge of relief flood her veins. Her son was alive. He had found a way out. But he had been trapped – confined like a rat in a cage! "Who did this to him?"

"The prison was mine, constructed for me by my treacherous daughters innumerable winters ago. They likely felt the prison claim him but did not care to release him."

"You will tell me where they are." Areelu demanded, glaring hatefully into the horse's eyes.

"You intend to kill them?"

"Will you attempt to stop me?"

"…No. My daughters forsook me many moons ago, but they are still my blood. I will not help you kill them. If Astriek's claims of your exploits are not exaggerated, you will not require my help to find my daughters. I will not wish you luck in killing them, but I am glad Astriek's family cared for him enough to follow him here. Were that mine was similar." The horse walked backwards, back into the shadows it emerged from. It was gone the next moment.

Areelu left the cave, flying a short distance away and casting a scrying ritual.

"My lady–"

"Silence." Areelu ordered, not willing to waste another moment. If Astriek was indeed free of the magic-dampening roots, then…

Areelu smiled, a rare laugh of pure joy bubbled up as her spell completed, showing her son moving about a dank cave, clearing a flat space in the center of the room. He was preparing a ritual of some sort. He paused for a moment and looked around. He had likely felt her magic. He knew she had come for him. Areelu would go to him soon. For now…

"Suture?" Areelu said as the scrying faded in front of her.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Comb the woods. Uproot the fields. Scour the bogs. Find whoever was responsible for this."

"At once, my lady. Should I do this alone, or–"

"Send them all." Areelu said dispassionately. When she left Golarion to search for her son, she had intended to bring an army with her to be used in the event that she needed to assault a keep to free her son. Unfortunately, such was beyond her ability ever since she had fallen out of favor with the Demon Lords she once served. Their minions no longer answered to her, so the force she arrived with was limited to those scant few who were as invested in Astriek's return as she was.

"You've found him then?" an undead woman with faded golden hair asked as she walked up to Areelu's side.

"Yes. We will go to him once those who harmed him are destroyed."

"I have no interest in vengeance. Tell me where he is and I will go to him."

"You forget yourself, disgraced queen. In my son's absence, you will obey me."

"My master is no longer absent. Send the demon. I'm sure she would enjoy the opportunity to rend flesh from bone."

Areelu couldn't help the amused smile that grew on her lips at Galfrey's brazenness. Even after all this time, it was still strange to know the once proud queen had fallen so far.

"Very well. Hepzamirah, Kestogylr, Staunton Vhane and Terendelev will find those responsible. You and I will greet my son."

Astriek had freed himself, but those responsible for his imprisonment would pay. Areelu would order Terendelev to lay waste to the nearby fields. Hepzamirah would slay any who played a role in this atrocity commited against her son. Areelu would see to it that the memory of those responsible was burned from the records of history. When Areelu Vorlesh was done, none would remember that those who harmed her son had even existed.

The sky above her was overtaken by a thunderous flapping of wings. A skeletal dragon alight with azure, necromantic flame roared as it glided over the trees. A large, spectral demon wielding a scythe cut her way through the trees, screaming her pleasure as she was let loose upon the world. Let the rage of Areelu Vorlesh consume those responsible for her son's suffering.

X

I was part way through constructing my ritual circle when I felt something ping on my magical defenses. My initial instinct was to smack the magic away…then I recognized its touch. I allowed the scrying to connect, and felt my mother's eyes on me. She pulled away moments later.

Could a faceless lich smile, I would have been smiling ear to ear. Mother was here, and she knew where I was. If she was here, it meant she likely had a way back home, making creating my own path unnecessary. Aside from that, my mother was here. After decades of waiting to sit down and speak with her about everything that happened, I could finally see her again.

I needed to complete my new phylactery soon. Mother would arrive soon. I quickened my preparations, being sure to still do everything correctly.

I would see my mother again soon.