Mira's Rift 1: Instant Failure (Patreon)

[A/N: I've waited, and the vast majority of people want beta content, so I'm posting it. However, I'll limit it to Sara's Second Isekai, which is Chemist-style crack, and Mira's Rift, a power fantasy which, after chapter 3, will start to make you slowly feel really good.]

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A slight breeze ruffled Mira’s shirt as she lay under the sickla tree, cooling her as it rustled the soft pink leaves above. Songbirds sang melodies, insects hummed, and clouds moved slowly through the sky, wreathing the mountains in the distance. It was truly a picturesque day.

"I hate this place," Mira grumbled. She closed her eyes, periodically shielding her eyes when the sun pierced through the canopy. 

“Why do ya have to be so negative all the time?”

She lowered her arm and saw her brother Kodiko hanging upside down from a large branch. “Why? Are we living in the same world?”

He rolled his eyes and tapped his chest as if to say duh. "This place is pretty amazing. The weather’s nice. There’s clean water. There’s—”

“Dead birds lining the base of the hill?” Mira interrupted, sitting up and pointing down the hill. Hundreds of dead birds of various sizes were indeed lining the hill, stacked up like sandbags to stop a flood.

“See? This is what I’m talking about.” Kodiko flipped off the branch and then marched to the pile. He turned and rapped his knuckles on an invisible wall when he arrived. The action left ripples of warping space spreading through the sky, like dropping a pebble into a still pond. “See this, Sis? This isn’t a bird killer. This is a protection.”

Mira chuckled bitterly. It was indeed protective. It was so protective that birds flew into it at high speeds and died upon impact. However, protection wasn’t the problem. 

“You have the strangest ways of describing prison walls, Kodiko.”

“Prison?” Kodiko laughed. “How many prisons do you know with a nice house, great weather, and….” He stopped when he saw Mira hug her knees. Her face didn’t change, but her subconscious body language said it all. So, instead, he ran back up the hill and plopped down beside her. 

After a moment of awkward silence, he poked her side.

She ignored him.

He poked her again.

She ignored him.

He poked—

“What?” Mira growled.

“What do you think is going to happen today?” 

“Why do you think something will happen today?”

“Because this was supposed to be the day when the gruel ran out, right?” Mira fell silent and turned to the mountains, so he got to the point. “They wouldn’t just put us in a place like this to die.”

Mira developed a sarcastic smirk. “Who’s ‘they’?” 

“You know,” Kodiko mumbled, “people.” He didn't know because the siblings had amnesia. 

It wasn't aggressive. They could identify trees, read, write, and do math. However, Kodiko's mind went blank whenever he drew, and Mira found herself frustrated for not having a washing machine despite not remembering what it looked like.

Even if they could function, Mira found it unbearable. It was as if whoever brought them there didn’t just steal their memories—they stole their identities, dreams, purpose, and security. 

Mira would never forgive them for that. Still, Kodiko had a point, so she sighed. “You’re right; Leaving us here to die is illogical.”

“See?!” Kodiko grinned, pulling her up. “Then come on! Let’s get you slime. I know something good's going to happen today.”

“Stop calling it that,” Mira huffed. They passed by beds of fragrant flowers and a large field with wooden practice dummies on the way to their cozy cottage. It was a beautiful location that even had a private hot spring. If the twenty jars of green gruel in their walk-in pantry weren't living beside 35 empty shelves, it would indeed be a paradise.

Too hungry to ration again, Mira took two out, forced one into her brother’s hand (he refused but gave in too fast for it to be sincere), cracked hers open, jammed in a spoon, and took a big bite. 

A single tear streaked down her cheek when she tasted it. “I can’t remember what other food tastes like,” she smiled, “but I’m certain it doesn’t taste like sadness and disappointment.”

“I think it’s good,” Kodiko huffed, inhaling it. “Like, not really good. It’s more like scratching an itch. It’s the worst, but it’s still kinda good, you know?”

Mira chuckled and took another bite. “It certainly does that.”

After chatting for a few hours, she bathed in the hot spring, scrubbing her skin with a smooth stone until it was bright pink and polished. Then she unfolded her (neatly folded before bathing) clothing and washed them individually.

It took her until sunset.

Then she reread Kodiko Rixa's Fairy Tales on their cozy little porch, listening to the sunna bugs singing outside the barrier. While she enjoyed reading it, it made her feel a sense of loss. Something told her that she loved novels and school, and both were taken from her, replaced by a single fairy tale book left behind. And so, she ended it after one story.

Kodiko protested, but he soon became distracted by drawing the mountains (he couldn’t remember anything else), and she wrote her daily activities in her diary, no matter how repetitive they were, determined to never forget again. 

“Do you think we’ll ever remember Mom and Dad?” Kodiko asked, breaking the silence.

Mira looked at the molten sky, reflecting a myriad of colors as the sun passed over the horizon. “I’m not sure. I just hope they didn’t forget about us.”

As if that was all she ever had to say, the dimensional barrier encasing them suddenly lit up with golden light, giving an entrancing and horrifying celestial feel.

Mira extended her arm, locking her hyperactive brother into place as her ears twitched. “Don’t move. This might be a—”

“Mira… Kodiko….” Their eyes trembled when a familiar voice boomed from the sky, triggering intense waves of deja vu. 

“Dad?!” Kodiko screamed, pushing past Mira’s arm. She was too shocked to stop him, so he ran out in the middle of a field. “Where are you, Dad?!”

Unfortunately, the voice didn’t hear the young boy’s plea. “I’m sure you have many questions, but there isn’t much time. Now that your food is out, you’ll have to leave this place. To do that, you can say ‘Empyrean Rift’ to open a portal between here and Chroma where.”

Mira didn’t know where Chroma was, but she immediately complied. ‘Empyrean… Rift.” Her veins surged with magma, burning her insides as a blue light emanating from her chest, peaking through her shirt. “What is… this…?!”

An azure gateway of warping blue light opened before her, beckoning her inside.

“Why can’t I do it?!” Kodiko huffed, yelling Empyrean Rift and swinging his hand.

As if anticipating his complaint, their father continued. “Kodiko. You can use it in ten moons. In the meantime, I’m sure your sister has rationed and understands why I’ve done this.”

Mira’s eyes sharpened at his message: It’s dangerous there. So don’t bring Kodiko to start, but don’t leave him here long, either.

"Mira, Kodiko. Before you go to Chroma, you must understand. You must never speak of this place or show people the magic to get here. This is of critical importance. We locked away your memories for your safety. If you disregard that, you’ll end up dead. So please: trust no one, especially if they claim to know about you.”

Yelling rang out in the recording, giving a truly terrifying feel. “Mira, Kodiko—your mother and I love you both. Be safe and take care of each other.” With those words, the enigmatic recording abruptly cut off, leaving them stunned.

“Dad?!” Kodiko yelled toward the sky. However, it was to no avail.

Knowing he was gone and the situation was dire, Mira swallowed and looked back at the azure gateway. “Empyrean Rift.”

The gate disappeared.

“Empyrean Rift.”

Mira’s veins exploded with heat again, dropping her to the ground, dry heaving. The gate opened—but she didn’t have the energy to walk through it. Within only a few seconds, she blacked out.

…

When Mira awoke, she found Kodiko sleeping in her bed, hogging the covers. ‘He must’ve carried me here….’ she thought. So, just this once, she forgave him for sleeping in her bed without permission. 

After sneaking out of the room, she bathed in the hot spring, meticulously scrubbing her skin until it was polished. Then, as much as it irked her, she left without washing her clothing, opting to wear another pair to save time.

When she returned, Kodiko was up, begging her to leave immediately. She masterfully ignored his invisible sword and epic sound effects while eating breakfast. Then, once she finished, she turned to him. “Wait here. Once I verify the world is safe, I’ll come back to get you.”

Kodiko blinked twice in silence.

The next thing Mira knew, she was literally dragging a ten-year-old on her leg as she walked to her room.

“Please, Sis! I’ll do anything you ask!” Kodiko sobbed, rubbing snot on her shirt. That alone made her want to swat him off and wash it again. However, she didn’t have time, and she understood his nervousness. So she calmed herself down.

“I’ll be back for you,” Mira said, giving him the best attempt at a hug she could. "I'm just checking it out."

"But what if something bad happens?!"

"It'll only be for a bit. I'll come right back if there's danger."

“Promise me!” Kodiko sobbed.

Mira paused. She didn't like promises because life was complicated, so promises were often hard to keep. Still, she was determined to return to him immediately, so she knelt beside him. “I promise. Now I have to change shirts. So you need to let go."

Kodiko nodded and released her pants, letting her go into her room.

The moment Mira closed the door, she whispered, “Empyrean Rift,” and paid the physical toll on her veins to summon the gateway. Once it was up, she gulped, her heart rattling in her chest like a caged animal.

“You tricked me!” Kodiko yelled, pounding on the door.

Panicked by the sudden yelling, she stumbled through the gateway and promptly landed on an abrasive stone surface, scraping her arms. When she looked up and saw she was in a room of eroded stone covered in moss, she frowned. “Wait. That’s it?” Mira whispered. “I thought traveling here would feel more… hallucinogenic.”

Slightly let down by her unceremonious entrance into Chroma, she got up and walked out the only doorway in the space. The moment she saw what was on the other side, she froze.

A sprawling landscape of multi-colored trees stretched into the distance, lining the smooth stone terrace with a rainbow assortment of flower petals. Beyond that lay a forest she imagined she could hunt in for food, alleviating their problems.

It was almost dreamlike. She could only imagine what the place looked like before the stone floors cracked and eroded from the rain, making it home to moss and musty air.

“This place is breathtaking,” Mira whispered. 

“It is, isn’t it?” a voice mused from beside her, “but it’s not nearly as pretty as the spatial magic you just used. Any chance you’d teach it to me?”

2

Mira turned sharply and found a male pixie sitting in a torch holder, kicking his legs. Now, she wasn’t certain he was a pixie (as Rixa's Fairy Tales didn't mention they wore charcoal peacoats and slacks), but she was certain that humans weren't one foot tall and didn't have translucent wings.

Whatever he was, he saw her magic, and she had to improvise—fast.

“Nice try,” Mira scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I won’t tell you how I got here, so save your breath.”

“Hooooooooh?” the pixie hummed. “Are you telling me that you got past me—this temple’s guardian—without spatial magic?”

Choosing between instant failure and insulting a one-foot man with tiny wings, she chose the latter. “You must be having an off day.”

“That’s rude,” he frowned.

“So is speculation.”

“Speculation? You’re honestly going to tell me you accidentally stumbled into the Calyxrus Forest without a weapon and survived?”

Mira looked to the forest, the dark pine trees in the distance. ‘Dangerous or not, I only need to find somewhere to hide to leave," she thought.

After making the judgment, she addressed him. “Like I said, I’m not telling you how I got here. So if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”

With those words, she strode down a paved path between two rows of vibrantly colored trees that smelled sweet, like ruka berries. They were beautiful—but strange. Their pedals floated toward the ground but flaked off her blouse as if they were fingernails.

“If you think you can hide from me in the forest, you’re sorely~mis~taken,” the pixie chimed from the distance.

She stopped in place. “Why? Are you clairvoyant?”

“No,” he chuckled. “It’s because I have wings.”

Mira stumbled when she found that he had somehow traversed a hundred feet and was fluttering by her face. She almost fell, but he caught her hand with his tiny fingers and held her effortlessly.

“Luckily, I, Ekonero, am willing to help you get through this forest,” he declared, pulling to her feet. “For….” He rubbed his chin. “How does one zeta sound?”

Mira frowned. “What happened to being a temple guardian?”

Ekonero waved his hand dismissively. “That was in the past. Let's think of the future.”

She crossed her arms. “What would I trust someone who would abandon his duties to guide me?”

“Well, for one, I’m either the guardian here, or I got through the forest already, ergo the guide,” he said. “More importantly, I’m here today because I was waiting for you. See, I know your father—“

Mira’s fight-or-flight response triggered, and she immediately sprinted down the stairs to the second terrace. 

Trust no one, especially if they claim to know about you. 

That’s what her father had just said.

“Oh, come on!” Ekonero called out. “It’s just one zeta!”

She ignored him as she traversed the terraces of the pyramid she was on. It was massive, becoming increasingly pronounced as the distant trees grew taller. By the time she got to the dirt path leading into the forest, the trees were 100 feet tall, and barely any light passed through the canopies. 

Mira swallowed hard, feeling cold sweat drip down her shoulder blades as she jogged into the forest, looking for hiding places. However, Ekonero’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Do not leave that path,” Ekonero ordered, his playful voice gone. “If you stay on it, you’ll be safe. If you leave it—you’ll die.”

With her heart racing and mind teaming with confusion, she ran into the forest, wondering whether she should listen to him.

‘I need to leave to hide, but… where?’ Mira thought. To her chagrin, there were no boulders, and the forest was dim, so the light of the magic would follow. ‘I need to go somewhere deep enough that he won’t be looking.’

She only needed to get somewhere she could leave and return in a few days when he wasn’t there. So she charged forward into the abyss, determined to get away.

That mindset quickly proved naive as the forest grew darker, and leaving the path seemed increasingly dangerous.

The haunting cackle of birds and small cracks from snapping twigs shattered the silence, and bugs would screech randomly. Each sound wrapped her in gooseflesh that was prickly and sensitive to the cool breeze.

However, driven by the desire to feed Kodiko, she trudged on, hoping something would change—but regretting her wish.

It all started with branches snapping.

Birds flapping out of trees.

And, most importantly, a primal instinct telling her that something was watching her—stalking her through the trees.

Snap!

Another branch snapped, but this one was loud. It was right next to her. Mira couldn’t believe something got right next to her without noticing, but she wouldn’t look back.

Her breaths came ragged, and she increased her speed to a jog, watching the path.

GrrrrRrrrrRrrr….

Mira froze when she heard a monstrous growl, wet and thick to the right. She turned with choppy motions and saw two large orange eyes reflect like glass. The irises were the size of a tea plate, staring at her.

That wasn’t what scared her, though. It was its body. It was a colossal beast with the body of a canine but with a massive hunchback with spines. As she tried to wake Ekonero, a chorus of growls came from the other side.

Snap!

Her heart thrashed against her rib cage before her danger sense screamed at her, and her mind yelled: ‘RUN!’

And she did, barreling down the path as beasts ran down the path.

For some reason, they wouldn’t touch the path. However, beasts of various proportions snapped their head into it, trying to bite her without touching it.

It was a warzone with various beasts fighting and brawling each other in the darkness, growling, howling, and roaring as they clamped down on screeching beasts. It was vicious, visceral, and raw, causing her heart to explode.

Her legs started giving out, and she slowed as the preoccupied beasts caught up again.

“Speed up!” Mira screamed, forcing herself past the pain of her worn-out legs.

That’s when something remarkable happened—

Her chest radiated blue light—the same that activated Empyrean Rift—and the dirt pathway glowed with geometric shapes and thousands of words written in poem format under the dirt.

Then, her body flew forward multiple times at the normal speed, nearly gliding above ground.

The confused beasts stopped fighting and immediately gave chase, shooting through the forest to catch up to her.

And they did.

Quickly.

It wasn’t long before the hunchback passed her and threw itself onto the path to stop her advancing.

Mira’s world slowed to a crawl, allowing her to see the blue, glowing runes light up twice as bright on the beast’s legs.

A split second later, its legs lit up with the same azure color, pulsing through its thick, matted fur, and it hit the ground, skidding past her onto the other side of the path. It let out an unworldly howl as its massive body thrashed around and shriveled like rotting fruit.

There was something intrinsically horrifying about watching it—as if she was watching something more permanent than death.

Mira looked around in a haze and saw all the beasts backing away, snarling and yapping as they glanced between her and the beast screeching in pain.

As her heart pounded, she felt warm in her chest and looked down at the ground while the words were hidden underneath the ground.

“Kataléxi mía alitalía, spóndeos silviai temnérosa. Ekónero tróchaio, virópoli dairónes vaganti, dista léxera di kuríous ónira. Pathímeno il ventóras mélisma, échi infernali kaleíto thalássai. Paradeisos, periphoría di astáthme, ékrito: 'O, kairós di perdicióna, ti dikaiósi sta orá?'”

Mira read it in confusion. “A poem? By the whispers of ancient truths, in the shadows of silvery woods, a chariot of energy emerges, wandering through the cities of the brave souls….”

As she spoke the words, the atmosphere changed, and the blue characters spread outward into the forest, pushing the beasts further back.

Heart pounding, she continued. 

“With every word, dreams of the wise are invoked. With each gust of emotion, the songs of torment beckon the depths of the dark seas. God—“

The words lit up, and the trees lit up with blue light, making her feel like the entire forest would collapse. However, she heard a literal whisper from Echonero before she could finish. “I wouldn’t do that.”

Mira whipped around, looking for the pixie but finding no one. However, her broken concentration caused the light to dim on the trees. “Where? H-He’s been watching….”

The trees started snapping overhead, and the bark started crumbling like salt. “Run!” she screamed. As she hoped, the glyphs on the ground lit up, allowing the wind to crash through her hair as trees crashed down around her.

A few almost hit her on the way back. In fact, she was certain some should have. But a strange force stopped them, allowing her to move out of the way.

Still, she ran—ran for another 20 minutes at high speed until light pierced the canopies and mountains peaked through the trees. Then she continued running until she saw a clearing with sunlight, and she laughed, slowing down.

As the sun washed over, Echonero—a word that means whisper—spoke into the breeze. “Don’t speak.”

Before Mira could turn around, she heard yelling and saw a group of people with bows pointed at them.