I was bored.

Work was slow, and I wanted something to occupy my time. I knew the trope. I should have known better, but I clicked on the link anyway.

This email appeared in my inbox as if specifically to alleviate my boredom. Why shouldn't I screw around with the fairly generic CYOA attached to it? That was what I'd thought. I should have taken into consideration the fact that the CYOA in question was sent from an email domain that didn't exist.

Of course, I didn't. You wouldn't be reading this if I had. No. I made my choices, then clicked the button at the bottom of the screen labeled 'submit'. Thus began a beautiful nightmare.

My breath was wrenched from my lungs. I felt pain beyond anything I'd ever imagined. It was as if my entrails had been pulled out and fastened tight around me like a belt. I was cold. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think through the pain.

I was dying. That was the only thought I could formulate. I was dying. And there was nothing I could do about that fact.

Everything went dark.

X

My eyes shot wide with a gasp. The air was cool, gently brushing against my bare skin. I was naked. Knee-high grass the color of honey surrounded me, bowing in the breeze. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow.

A low growl behind me caused me to turn. A tall, lanky, shaggy dog was slowly approaching, lips pulled back to bare its teeth. The dog snapped its teeth at me, barking in challenge as it charged.

Instinct took over. I fell into a stance as if I'd done it a thousand times. My hand was clasped firmly around a leather grip. There was a long piece of carved wood in my hand, not unlike a club. I didn't waste time wondering how I'd come here, why I was naked, why this animal was attacking me or how I had managed to secure a weapon. I struck.

The dog whimpered in pain as it collapsed at my side. Its chest rose and fell once more before it grew still. Crimson leaked from the corpse, coloring the grass red.

I let out a breath as I focused on the blood-soaked instrument in my hand. It looked like a poor craftsman's approximation of a hockey stick. What…

Hurley ball. Wolfhound. The CYOA…

Everything suddenly made sense.

I dropped the weapon I'd used to kill the hound into the grass and held my arms out at my sides. I felt power surge through my veins and erupt out of my body, blasting the grass away from me in all directions. I was no longer naked as I summoned my armaments. Garbed in a form-fitting outfit blue like the deep ocean with silver highlights and sturdy pauldrons to match, I beheld the weapon in my grasp. It was a spear, red like blood that seemed to vibrate with hidden power.

I smirked as I ran my hand up the haft of my spear. Memories of two lives swam through my mind, melding together and slotting into place. Principles and values of separate people merged. Two souls had joined to create a new existence, to create me.

"This is going to be fun."

X

Taylor Hebert was having a bad day. Not that that was any strange phenomenon these days. Ever since high school started, Taylor had counted herself lucky whenever she managed to get through the day without any of her things being stolen. Judging by that metric alone, Taylor was having a terrible day. Not only had the trio managed to steal last night's World Studies assignment, but Taylor's lunch disappeared out of her locker. It was just like when her mother's flute had gone missing. Taylor locked the locker with her lunch inside, then when she came back, her lunch was gone.

At this point, Taylor was starting to suspect the janitors were in on the campaign to systematically make her life a living hell. The trio, her other classmates, her teachers and the school administrators all seemed either indifferent or openly hostile to her, so why not the custodians too?

Taylor's head was hung low. She carefully controlled her breathing, blinking away the stinging sensation behind her eyes as she walked home. She would not cry. It didn't matter what they did to her. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of making her cry in public, least of all today. She was free of them now. She wouldn't have to come back to school until winter break was over. She had two full weeks away from that nightmare and she planned to make use of every minute.

"Excuse me, young miss?"

Taylor started, surprised by the close proximity of the voice. There was a small shopping stall in an empty lot off the sidewalk. Taylor had come this way every day after school and never seen this stall before. The lot was always empty, so why was it occupied now?

"Excuse me." Taylor said politely as she turned away to hurry past. Taylor was a Brocktonite through and through. Being alone and curious in this city was a great way to end up as a statistic. Right now, Taylor was alone, and there was a weird stall that she'd never seen before half-way from the bus stop to her house. She'd rather not end up as a cautionary tale before making it home for winter break.

"Please, just a moment of your time."

Taylor stopped. She pursed her lips as she looked over her shoulder. The man behind the counter was old. There were creases around his eyes and his face was sagging. Even so, his white hair and beard were full and proud. His hair line hadn't receded, so at least he had that going for him. The man was wearing a thick black trench coat and a grandfatherly smile as he looked at her beseechingly.

"I need to get home." Taylor said.

The man's smile pulled into a small frown. "I only want to help, dear. Perhaps it isn't my business, but it's clear to see that your mood could do with some improvement. I take it you had a hard day?"

"I don't see how that's your business."

"Perhaps it isn't, but I do like to help those in need when I can, and I can help you. If you feel you must hasten home, I will not stop you, but I would ask that you take these." The man picked up an item from his stall and held them out to her.

Taylor regarded the offering with suspicion. In her experience, people didn't help you unless you had something to offer them, and even then, they still had an angle even then. "Why?"

The man's smile was back. "Didn't I already tell you? I like helping people. If giving you a free sample of my wares puts a smile back on your face, then I'll consider it a worthy investment."

After looking around the area to see if there was anyone else around and ensuring she wasn't being surrounded by gang bangers, Taylor swiftly approached the man and took the offered item. Rather, she took the two offerings. It was a pair of ivory earrings. There was a ball directly beneath the clasp atop an oblong shape that dangled lower. Taylor had never been much for jewelry, especially weird dangly stuff like this. She likely wouldn't ever wear them. Even so, Taylor found herself smiling.

"Thank you." she said, looking up at the old man.

He nodded. "My pleasure, young miss. I hope they bring you good fortune."

Taylor pocketed the earrings and left the stall behind her. It wasn't long before she was back home. She used the key hidden under the broken step to let herself in before locking the door behind her. Dad was working late, he'd said something about some meeting in the morning before she'd left for school, so Taylor would be alone for a while. She hadn't eaten thanks to the trio taking her lunch, so she was planning on making an early dinner to get something in her stomach. After that, she'd probably shower and go to sleep. She just wanted today to be over.

She dropped her backpack on the couch and headed into the kitchen, getting to work on a simple meal – a simple scramble. They needed to use the last of the eggs before they expired. Wait, they expired four days ago.

…Whatever.

Taylor's mind drifted as she cooked. Not for the first time, she found herself wondering how her life had spiraled so drastically off course. First she'd lost her mother. Then she'd lost her best friend. Then she'd fallen into a pit of repetitive torment that seemingly had no escape.

She'd tried to flee the hellscape Winslow had become, but she'd been too slow. Before high school, her grades were strong enough that she could have gone anywhere in the city, but she'd opted to go to Winslow to be with Emma. That decision had backfired spectacularly. Not only was Emma now her chief tormentor, but by stealing her assignments and distracting her in class, the trio had tanked her grades so low that she was struggling to pass her classes now. She couldn't transfer with such abysmal scores. No one would take her.

Taylor's grip tightened on the spatula in her hand as she glared at nothing. It wasn't fair. It wasn't just unfair. It sucked. What did she do to deserve this? One day, her life was great. Three months later, everything had gone to shit. She was so tired of having to deal with it all. She just wanted…

Taylor's shoulders slumped. She set the spatula down on the counter and hung her head.

She just wanted to matter again. Even dad didn't talk to her much anymore. He hadn't been the same since mom died, and Taylor had done her best to deal with everything herself so as not to bother him any more. She wanted someone to look at her and not see a target, a victim, an object to pity. Even that man who'd given her the earrings earlier had only looked at her with pity.

Taylor frowned as she reached into her pockets. She'd completely forgotten about the earrings. She pulled them out and held them in the palm of her hand, inspecting them. Again, Taylor came to the realization that she would likely never wear these things. They didn't really suit her, and even if they did, the trio would probably tear them out of her ears. Not to mention she'd have to get her ears pierced. They didn't have the money to do it professionally, and Taylor was skeptical about whether or not she wanted to do it herself. That sounded like an excellent way to get tetanus.

Taylor's eyes focused on the earrings in her hand. She could have sworn she just saw one of them jiggle. It happened again. This time both the earrings shook side to side for a brief instant before becoming still once more.

What was…?

Following an instinct drawn up from some unknown part of herself, Taylor closed her fist around the earrings, holding them out in front of her. Words came unbidden to her lips.

"Let silver and steel be the essence.

Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.

Let ivory the color I pay tribute to

Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall

Let the four cardinal gates close.

Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.

I hereby declare.

Your body shall serve under me.

My fate shall be your sword.

Submit to my beckoning.

If you will submit to this will and this reason… Then answer!

An oath shall be sworn here!

I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven.

I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell!

From the Seventh Heaven, attended by three great words of power,

Come forth from the ring of restraint,

Protector of the Holy Balance!"

Bright blue light filled the kitchen as a circle etched itself on the ground beneath Taylor's feet. It appeared quickly. She was only able to catch a glimpse of a large star surrounded by over a dozen other symbols before the circle faded just as quickly as it had appeared. A great white flash was left in the circle's wake, forcing Taylor to shit her eyes tight on reflex. As she blinked the spots from her vision and recovered from the alien instinct that had prompted her to speak words she'd never heard before, she froze.

Standing on the other side of the kitchen table from her was a tall man in what appeared to be a blue jumpsuit. His unnatural blue hair and red eyes caught her attention. He grinned cockily at her and said, "I take it you're my Master, then?"

Taylor threw the scramble she'd been cooking at him; the pan and spatula too.