A/N: Welcome.

This fic is a sequel to my other story, Self-Insert Blues. If you haven't read Blues, Harmony should prove confusing but (hopefully) readable.

I would have liked to have this story all written before publishing any of it, like I did with Blues. But given how Book 3 is going, I didn't think waiting would be a good idea. I do not already have everything written, and I do not have perfect knowledge of what's going to be in future chapters. That said, I have some predictions:

There will not be any rewrites. I've been working on this story for the past 6 months in my head; I understand what its tone, themes, and overall direction should be. (Edit: I changed my mind about where this story is going, how it's structured, what it's about, and other trivial little things like that shortly after writing this note. Don't take me too seriously.) This is not another Sue-fest destined to be replaced with a totally different story and copious author notes describing my revision process. Thank goodness! (Edit: You can take THIS seriously, though.)

I do not expect to need any content warnings. There will be injuries, some scant description of blood, and psychological trauma. That's really it. I don't do gore, I don't do sex scenes, and I don't do character death (of important characters, anyway). Should be pretty tame in those regards.

Enjoy.

.

I opened my eyes.

I stood in a forest of pink-leaved birch trees. It was late afternoon on an early fall day, the same time and season as it was in the world I came from. The forest floor was soft with black mosses and fallen leaves. Ironic, considering that I wore shoes this time. I also wore plain black pants, a previously unused black T-shirt that I had purchased for exactly this purpose, a soft woolen sweater, and a coat that resembled animal hide. I would not be very distinctive this time. I looked around. Seeing nobody around me, I breathed a sigh of relief and wiped my right hand on my pants to erase the touch that lingered there.

I started walking. There was no need to calm myself; I wasn't frightened. I also wasn't young, nor was I a girl. Twenty years had passed since my last visit to Lore, and a lot had changed.

The forest seemed strangely quiet. It felt like most of the forests back home did, which was strange because forests back home were surrounded by large population centers that extensively managed them. Lore should have had wild, untouched forests bursting with life. Sylphs and nymphs should have been dancing in every tree and staring at me from every knotted root. I stopped to look around, my eyes and ears alert for wildlife. Aside from insects and distant birds, nothing. My guts churned. Something was wrong. The forest I'd woken up in twenty years ago had been devoid of wildlife too, because the Rose was hunting and capturing magical creatures. What horrible phenomenon explained this silence?

I soon got an answer.

I found a road. It had no signposts or buildings, but intuition told me to turn right. I followed that road for a while. The sun began to set, and the forest grew dark. However, with the trunks of the trees blazing white even in darkness, I did not have to stop for the night. I could keep walking without fear of losing the road. I had been doing this for approximately half an hour when I had my first wildlife encounter.

A large white puma-like cat strolled out of the trees. I felt my first twinge of fear; my go-to strategy for large predators was to avoid them. I couldn't run, I certainly wasn't a fast enough tree climber, and I couldn't fight them off. This cat was already circling me, so I was helpless. All I could do was place myself in the hands of Fate.

Thankfully, it seemed more interested in investigating me than mauling me. I held still and let it examine me. It did so repeatedly, for a long time. Strange facial features that I couldn't make out in the darkness flicked and buzzed and clicked incessantly. It started to growl. It faced me and planted its paws, lashing its tail. I prepared to leap aside as soon as it pounced.

But then, something intervened. The white cat froze in the middle of its movement. I heard and saw nothing to explain why. It made a pitiful high-pitched whimper, something I wouldn't have thought possible at its size. Forgetting all about me, it turned and tried to run for the forest, but it stumbled and fell as its legs gave out. The white cat made another impossible sound, similar to the first but sad instead of fearful. Before my eyes, the white faded from its coat. Its body and legs curled up in a slow, stiff, jerking way. It didn't look like the way a living creature curls up, and it wasn't. When I gathered enough courage to examine the body, it was nearly mummified. Only a few minutes had passed.

I didn't stop to wonder what had just happened. I located the road and ran for my life, thanking my lucky stars that I'd taken up a vigorous exercise program and worn my best shoes for running. The need to keep track of the road slowed me to a fast jog, but that turned out to be a good thing, because a sprint wouldn't have taken me far enough. Even fueled by adrenaline and keeping to a slow pace, my legs were threatening to give out like the cat's had by the time I saw a sign of humanity. I gave them another push, running right up to a village gate.

The gate was part old-fashioned wood and part science fiction gizmo. Glowing lights strung the top of the 8-foot tall planks, making electric crackling sounds to dissuade anyone who even thought about climbing. A heavy metal bar on the inside kept the gate shut. A mechanical tog started to bark as soon as it spotted me. It was on the outside of the gate, untethered, and I had no way of knowing if it was programmed to respond to movement. I stopped, stood, and tried to catch my breath while waiting for a person to answer the barking.

I hadn't caught my breath yet when a villager appeared from the side. He was a lean, muscular man in his 30s or so with a stern expression and a giant energy gun in his hands. I was too busy eyeing its blue-green tubing and listening to its nerve-shattering cracks and sparks to notice anything else. It took me a few seconds to realize he had deactivated the tog's barking. "State your name and business," he demanded.

I was shaking with terror. I remembered Lore as a wonderland of magic and adventure. Since when was it so scary? "Uh… Ama, and I'm looking for shelter."

He raised the gun at me. "Nice try."

I especially didn't remember people on Lore acting like this! I whimpered and backed away, trying to make myself seem as small and unthreatening as possible. I started to cry. At first I was mortified - I'd worked so hard to get control over my meltdowns! - but then I realized it was a sound tactical maneuver in this sort of situation. I let myself fall into a sitting position and wiped at my face.

The guard approached, but in a slow, apologetic way. He waited until I was willing to lower my arm from my face. When I did, I saw that his gun was pointed firmly at the ground. It had a light on it, which he'd turned on and pointed at my legs so as not to blind me. That was more like what I remembered. I took a deep, shaky breath and said, "I'm not trying anything. There's no trick. My name is Ama. I'm looking for shelter. If it seems strange that I'm wandering the woods in the middle of the night, well, just as night was falling I saw a big cat die and shrivel up for no obvious reason in less than five minutes. I didn't feel like spending a night out here after that."

The guard said nothing, allowing me to get my breathing back under control. I'd started shaking with terror again. At last, he said, "Stay right here." He said it so quietly that I didn't dare raise my arm to wipe at my nose. I held my exact position, feeling my lower back cramp and my legs ache and my throat swell, until he unbarred the main gate. He shone the light at me, verified that I'd obeyed his order, and said, "Come in. You can sleep with the togs."

.

Terror proved to be a potent sleeping aid. Although the tog barn was filled with lights and sounds that would normally have kept me up, I passed out before really noticing them. I woke up well into the morning. Sunlight filled the tog barn from windows high up on the walls. I sat up, wincing at the pain in my side from lying on the hard floor, and looked around. A dozen deactivated togs lay in charging ports. Normally, I would have immediately started working out why they were there and what it meant, but I was still too bleary to solve any mysteries. I barely noticed that they were plugged in. Why would they be plugged in? In a world where electricity could be summoned midair, that made no sense. I realized that it made no sense and then filed that realization under "Things to think about some other time." That was all the detective work I could handle.

The guard from the night before appeared shortly after. He held no weapon this time. I stood up as soon as I saw him. With a jerk of his head, he commanded me to follow him out. The tog barn turned out to be one of four buildings in a small guarding compound just inside the gate. The tog barn was to the right of the gate and very close to it. Across the road, to the left of the gate, stood a building built like a brick with an antenna on the roof and wires snaking into it from buried ports underneath the road. Behind that building, farther from the gate, stood a nondescript shedlike thing that was probably the armory. Behind the tog barn was a house. Presumably that was where the guard on duty stayed, sleeping in a genuine bed unless woken by a barking tog or an alarm or both. Beyond this small compound, the road was bare for another twenty feet or so before running between two buildings that had their backs to us. I stared, wondering what the hell a town was doing with its buildings turned around to tell visitors they weren't welcome, then noticed that the brickwork on those buildings was newish in several places. The buildings had once faced forward, welcoming visitors. Something had given the townspeople reason to brick up windows and doors, turning entryways into solid walls. What could have done that?

"Oi!" I turned back around and realized that other people had joined us. They were all men, ranging from early old age to teenage, and there were about ten of them. None were armed, but they looked at me like they wanted to be. All except the oldest of them, a grey-headed man who looked quite slim and strong, only his weathered skin giving away that he might have been in his 70s. He reached out and poked the arm of one of the younger guards, who looked down and shuffled his feet. "Sorry," the younger guard muttered. He was the one who'd said "Oi."

The old guard turned to me. His body language was all friendly and relaxed. "So. Ama himself, gracing our humble village with his presence."

I groaned. "Oh, gods, please don't."

"What would you rather I said?"

"I was hoping for, 'Poor anonymous stranger. Let's give him at least one good meal before we turn him out on the road.'"

"Anonymous stranger?" He chuckled.

Of course. I had been there to witness Lore's closest brush with death. I'd taken the wielder of the world-ending Doom bomb away with me before he could explode the planet. Of course my name was in history books, was known world-wide. How had I not realized this? I should have made up a fake name. I sighed. "Just, please, no… No publicity."

"You're either the real Ama or a very, very good fake," he said.

I turned away, hiding my anger. Being accused of being a liar was the worst possible thing I could experience. "Don't," I said, more harshly than was wise. "Don't ask me to prove anything. I don't prove things, especially not trivial little things like my own identity. Go ahead and think of me as a fake; I don't care."

"Woah now," the old guard said. "No need to get so testy. We're all being friendly here."

I blushed, ashamed. "I know. I'm sorry. It's been a long night."

"Why don't you and I talk some more over a meal. It might clear your head."

I realized I was starving. "Yeah. Thank you."

.

It was a relief to discover that, once you got past those two buildings, the rest of the village was quite normal and hospitable-looking. The road curved to the right, then opened up onto a town square. I looked from left to right, taking in the healer's home, the town hall, the side street on the far left corner of the square, an enormous market, the side street on the far right corner of the square, and the inn. The old guardsman led me to the inn. It was built like an enormous house, of dark but still glossy wood that invited all who saw it to come, climb its broad front stairs and rest awhile on its porch. A sign planted at the base of the stairs beside the right handrail identified it as Mentoch's Inn. The stairs creaked softly under our feet, comforting me. I knew I was going to spend a lot of time at this inn.

Inside, care had been taken to make the place feel like a home, too. Eight tables with two chairs each filled most of a converted living room. There was a fireplace in the right-hand wall, not yet used this early in the autumn, with a span of faded red carpet before it. A door in the back must have led to the kitchen. There were two hallways, one to either side, the right-hand one blocked by crates. The crates formed a convenient seat for a man who watched over the dining area. He had thick bushy black hair, was clean-shaven, and sat still but not too still in a way that made him surprisingly inconspicuous. The only things distinctive about his appearance were how large his chest was - a former blacksmith, perhaps? - and the off-white apron he wore. He took his hands out of the apron's pockets, stood up slowly and came to us. He didn't say a word.

"Bread and borowik steaks," my guide told him.

The man nodded once and headed for the kitchen. The old guardsman took me directly to a specific table, the one nearest the left hallway. Even my hungry brain could notice that these two must have had a long and enduring friendship. I wasn't surprised when my guide said, "That was Mentoch. His rule is, he won't make trouble for you if you don't make trouble for him. He's practically a living symbol of this town."

"What town is this?" I asked, carefully keeping my voice quiet. There were three other customers in the inn at the moment and I didn't want anybody learning my identity who didn't really need to know.

"New Ull," the old guard replied. "Don't ask what happened to Old Ull."

"And who are you?"

"My name is Minas."

An employee brought us glasses of water, which made me realize how ravenously thirsty I was. It was a struggle to drink in large sips rather than gulps. I put my half-drunk glass down with effort. "So… What now?"

He picked his glass up to take another leisurely sip. "You tell me."

"A nice quiet existence performing menial chores, befriending anyone within reach, and generally making myself at home for however much time I have before I'm summoned."

"Summoned?"

"By Fate, to do whatever it is I am here to do."

"By 'here,' do you mean on Lore?" Minas asked. His voice was barely more than a hushed whisper.

"Yeah."

"Why'd you cross worlds again? And why now?"

"Because I was sent here, and I have yet to find out why," I replied.

"Sent by who?"

"Fate."

Minas gave me a long, critical look. I let him look, hoping our food would arrive soon. Fortunately, it did. A server came our way with a plate of mushroom steaks and flatbread wedges garnished with oil for me, and a garden salad topped with bits of mushroom and nuts under a drizzle of honey for Minas. I wanted to eat everything, but forcibly restrained myself to my own plate. I tried not to moan too loudly. Food had never tasted so good!

The sheer joy cleared out my system. Grogginess evaporated and my mind began to whir. I felt twenty years younger. With my newfound strength, I set to work solving the mysteries. "There's a problem with magic, isn't there?" I asked when Minas and I had both finished eating.

"What makes you say that?" he asked neutrally.

"One, I didn't see much wildlife in the forest. The last time I was on Lore, I also didn't see much wildlife, because magical animals were being captured and killed. Two, the togs were plugged in. Why would anyone need plugs in a world where lightning can be summoned in midair? Three, I failed to stop Jaania. Presumably she did whatever it was she intended to do to put an end to magic."

Minas drummed his fingers on the table. "You don't know what that was?"

"No, she never told me her plans."

That struck him. He leaned back, looking truly shocked. My ears metaphorically perked up. "It's common knowledge, isn't it?"

He took a sip of water to settle himself, then sat forward again. "Let me run some terms by you. Technomancy. The school. The emissary. Withering. Soul magic."

I blinked at the last one. "Soul magic? I use that term, but I don't know if you and I use it the same way."

"How do you use it?"

"To me, it mean harnessing the power of soul energy to make better decisions, understand yourself, be happier, and generally improve your relationship with the universe."

"Is 'healing other souls' on that list?"

"Well, soul energy is the material that souls are made of…"

"You and I have the same definition of soul magic." He gently stacked our empty plates for ease of cleaning. "And you really are who you say you are."

My idea that I would pass as an ordinary person just because I wore less conspicuous clothes this time was naive. I hadn't given a single minute of thought to how my actions had impacted Lore. After watching Jaania die despite all my efforts to save her, I'd tried to forget. I ignored Lore and hoped it would ignore me. How foolish. How stupid. I thought I'd accepted my past when I made plans in preparation for a possible return, but even then I'd still thought about Lore as little as I possibly could. I saw that now for what it was: an act of cowardice. Cowards hid from their past, tried to avoid the consequences of their actions. Fate seemed determined to have me not be a coward, because here it was shoving my past in my face.

Speaking of which… There was a lot I hadn't told him. Should I tell him? I watched Minas for any sign that he remembered what I had said about Fate. He signaled an employee and sat back, looking done with our conversation. Alright then. Done we were.

"This brings me back to my original question," I said. "What now?"

"If you didn't know what her plans were, then all the stories that cast you as a villain are false," Minas said. "I have no problem letting you stay and catch your breath. But when people from the school find out you're here, you're to go with them immediately. New Ull has no end of outsiders itching to turn our pretty town into their political pawn; we want no part of that."

"Won't you get in trouble simply for hosting me?"

"Not a soul in New Ull is going to admit to knowing who you were. Whatever incident tips off the outside world will be a surprise to us."

I nodded. "A genuine surprise, if I can manage it. I'm not the kind of person who enjoys living among people who all look at me as a walking bomb."

He grinned. "You're more down to earth than the stories say." Just then, Mentoch appeared. He personally presented the bill and took payment. I had no doubt he would know everything that Minas knew about me by day's end. Good thing Minas liked me.

We left the inn and parted ways at the base of the stairs. Minas gave me a friendly nod before he left. I was on my own. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then, I got to work solving the next mystery: where was I going to spend the night and what was I going to eat?

.

I ended up strolling around, learning the layout of New Ull. Or trying to; I kept getting distracted by the air, the trees, the architectural styles, and other random details. I gave up on creating a mental map of the town very quickly and devoted myself to sightseeing. Where I was going to sleep and what I was going to eat…eh, that would work itself out. I had tree roots to climb on.

"What are you doing?"

I put the plank of wood I was looking under back down in the dirt and looked up. A red-haired boy around 8 to 10 years old watched me. "Checking to see if any bugs lived under there. What are you doing?"

"Wondering why an adult's playing like a little kid," he responded.

"I'm in touch with my inner child."

Perhaps the phrase 'inner child' did not exist in this region, because that only seemed to confuse him. "Who are you?"

My smile fell. I turned away. "I'd rather put off telling you that for as long as possible."

I no longer had any interest in frolicking or looking under planks, so I assumed a yoga sitting pose and just sat there, not saying or doing anything. I thought the boy would get bored and go away, but he didn't. After standing for a while, he sat, also not saying anything. I started to wonder if he might be a kindred spirit. I let another while pass in silence, then looked at him and said, "My name is Ama."

His eyes grew wide. "You mean…?"

"Don't tell anybody you don't absolutely have to. I hear there are a lot of complicated stories going around, and I'd like to enjoy a simple, peaceful existence for as long as I can."

I got up, put my hands in my coat pockets and circled around the tree that hid both of us from the road. The kid joined me on my walk. "What's your name?" I asked him.

"Merlin."

"Huh. I know some stories that feature a powerful wizard named Merlin."

"Really?" I looked down to see him smiling.

A bolt of understanding hit me. I knew exactly what to do next. "You like magic, don't you?"

He got shy all of a sudden. "Yeah."

"Me too. Can you tell me what's happened to it?"

He didn't say anything, but he changed direction. I followed. We passed fields of flowering plants surrounded by beehives, heading for the forest. There was a trail leading in. The trail ended at a hot spring, where Merlin and I sat on flat rocks with the spring at our backs. I took off my coat and leaned back to feel the warmth on my neck. "Mm, so wonderful."

Several minutes of luxury later, I sat up and opened my eyes to find Merlin staring at me. He told me, "You're not like any of the stories say you are."

"Of course not." I stretched. "So. Magic. What's happened?"

"The emissary kills anyone who uses magic with lies or cruelty in their hearts." He sounded as if he was reading from a book. His voice got more natural as he went on. "But she's too strict! Even if you're just having a bad day and want to make someone stop bothering you, or you tell yourself you want to help people when really you just want to make your parents proud of you - I guess those are mean and untrue reasons to use magic, but nobody deserves to die because of that! And it's even worse with animals. They need to kill other animals in order to eat. They don't know that killing is wrong." Merlin's fists clenched. "Lots and lots of people and animals are dying who don't deserve it, just because the emissary doesn't like it when anyone does the slightest mean thing to anyone else. Doesn't she know that she's being too strict? She's crazy!"

"Hold on, hold on, hold on." I held my hands up. "You're going places I'm not ready to follow, kid. First of all, who is this emissary?"

His jaw dropped. "You don't know? But you were there when she was created!"

Everything I saw seemed to turn one or two shades darker. I lowered my hands, remembering the last few horrible minutes of my previous visit to Lore. Strings flying from Jaania's fingers, into the Mana Core. She had died, but part of her could have lived on, woven into the Mana Core. The emissary was her ghost.

I turned to face forward again. Despite the hot spring at my back, chills ran up and down my neck. "That's what's causing the loss of magic?" It made horrible, horrible sense. Taking control of the Mana Core and making it too dangerous to use was a very efficient way to get people to stop using magic. Jaania was going down in history as a villain, a murderer, a crazy woman to be pitied and reviled. Everything that I had tried to prevent was coming true. I felt nauseous. This was the reason why I avoided thinking about Lore. Thinking of my failure made me feel ill, really ill, with nausea and sweating and aches and everything. I closed my eyes, letting tears fall. "This is exactly what I tried to stop."

"Are you okay?" He held my hand. I appreciated it. I shook my head no and gave his hand a squeeze. We sat there as I took deep breaths, gaining control over myself. Then, after I gained control over myself, we continued to sit there. I went from freaking out straight into detective mode and gave no sign of improvement because I did not want Merlin to interrupt my train of thought.

I opened my eyes when I was done. "She's not crazy, strict, or anything like that. She's protecting herself."

"What?"

I let go of Merlin's hand and turned to face him. "If she knows people's motives, that means that whenever a person uses magic she feels their feelings and hears their thoughts. Twenty years ago, thousands of people were using magic all the time, for any reason, day and night unceasing. Being woven into the Mana Core must have been like having a tidal wave crash on her head. A tidal wave made of hammers. She's not crazy; she just can't stand the weight of even one mind intruding on hers. How is she even still alive?"

Merlin lowered his eyes. "That doesn't change anything. The only way to fix magic is to unweave her."

"No."

"What?" He scooted away, looking at me like I was insane.

"The way to fix magic is to heal her. She'll do the right thing, once she possibly can."

This made perfect sense to me. I had promised to save Jaania, whatever it took. My quest wasn't over yet! As long as a remnant of her still existed and still suffered, I had a responsibility to try to help. Perhaps, if I saved the emissary, that would make up for my failure to save Jaania. If I could help her, I wouldn't have to fear this guilt anymore. I would be free.

But Merlin didn't seem to agree. "As long as she's in there, people won't ever be able to use magic the way they used to. Lore won't ever go back to being a place where you can find magic around every tree." Tears welled up in his eyes. "I've read stories of what Lore used to be like. I want to see it myself. Even just once."

"Merl…"

"I can't even have a pet!" He started to cry. "Almost everything on Azaveyr is magical. You can't go into the woods and tame something for yourself because it's gonna die. The only pets you can keep come from across the ocean and they're expensive so only rich people get to have them." He buried his face in his knees, mumbling something about how he had always wanted to have something to care for.

It felt like an axe had been buried in my chest. What was I thinking? The Mana Core was the center of all magic on Lore. Something that vast and powerful couldn't have a human soul in charge of it. It was just not possible. The emissary didn't belong where she was. Lore was going to wither from lack of magic if I couldn't get over my selfish desire to avoid admitting to my mistakes. I'd failed. Jaania was dead. My quest was over. I needed to learn to live with that; children like Merlin needed me to.

Slowly, hesitantly, I put an arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry, Merl. I… I understand. Yesterday, I stood in the middle of the woods and saw how empty they were, and I could feel in my bones how wrong it was. I'll do whatever it takes to restore magic."

He looked up, sniffling. "You will?"

"I promise."

He smiled again. I watched his face fill with hope. As he snuggled under my arm, so trusting and affectionate, I wondered what on earth I had just agreed to.