I glanced up and the sky held my gaze like a vice and didn't let go. And so much more than just the stars stared back down at me. The unfathomable pillar I had been walking toward was no longer obfuscated by the hazy skies of the humid daylight.

Indeed, the first eye that stared back was a massive sphere of boiling orange and swirling gray. It existed in constant flux, pressure building up in pristine clarity, resulting in small gusts of smoke disappearing down the pillar, undoubtedly (or perhaps somewhat doubtedly) creating some strange volcanic rift in the center of the snowless mountains. At first, I thought that was all it was, but the beams of starlight which illuminated this unmissable and otherworldly scene gave way to a stellar performance so very much grander.

I was oriented now and could notice the night sky of this world. Or, well, 'world' wasn't singular here.

I saw a scene I would carve into the most personal depths of my mind. It reminded me of the strange beauty of the coldness of our existence that worked in tandem and against one another. The very concept of beauty assaulting my sense of meaning and giving it a new voice. What did I see?

I saw glowing lifelines between spheres and planes in a glorious myriad of colors, branching out from one and to another and from there into two more. A massive world in the same neighborhood, so close I felt I could reach out and touch it, pierced back into my view with icy vistas, visible mountain ranges of raw frost, and oceans covered in mists. Yet another gave me its attention, more subdued and fiery than the last, this new eye was a shifting disc of clouds and rocks that looked like a galaxy, connected to another world by a fragmented line of rock twisting and swirling around a ray of not-quite-starlight.

This bridge extended from a planet I could see was bustling even from so many worlds away, although it was worth noting these worlds ranged in size between that of a large meteor and that of a small moon. It was filled with moving metal objects and buildings that floated across the myriad 'Worldbridges' stemming from it. Their absurd scale and complexity in view for stargazers and insomniacs across this planetary sector.

I could almost feel my eyes sparkle as my vision was torn to the other edge of my personal cosmic horizon.

Here was a gray world of what were likely canyons and cliffs, bursting at the seams with green forests and sky blue rivers, running between these cliffs like veins. Which seemed to float on its own, though it moved as if loosely tied to another celestial body. Or, maybe it was a celestial body. It was something, impossible to make out. A particularly distinct mirage in the sky, warping and moving across the rest of the backdrop, ripples along the liminal waters pulling shards of color and passion along with it.

Yes, all across my vision, definable and undefinable, I could see objects and colors suspended between one another, a diverse variety of astral shapes and planets so small it should be impossible to have such variety in ecosystems by all conventional scientific knowledge I was aware of. Instead of a moon, the stars stood vigilant at watch over a structure of objects connected through bridges tangible and intangible.

I so sorely wished that I had a telescope.

Far off, so far I could barely see, equidistant to the space between the Earth and her moon, and a lot smaller than said moon were that the case, a blue planet called out to me. It wasn't earth, there wasn't enough land.

But it was that same comfortable shade of ocean blue that told something deep in the inner reaches of my mind, something so fundamental and tied to our state of being we would never notice it without exceptional circumstances, that it was like home. It wasn't home, mind you, but it told me that I was still connected to it. Perhaps some deep evolutionary connection to our very planet and all reminiscent of it. A fundamental appreciation for our lifebed that, at the very least, was at the core of my being.

It was all moving, all changing, all shifting, all fighting, all being at once. All of it was simply alive.

I stood up, entranced, enchanted, and utterly dumbfounded at the wondrousness of it all. I stumbled to the edge of the island of rock we stood on, and stared across the edge, the same image opening up under me.

I stepped onto it. I walked forward, making footprints in the stars.

I saw myself, too, caught between two horizons of night. A pale face not touched by the sun with any consistency, puffy jet-black hair that laid on its terms and not mine, soft features, a slight physique. It was all average to below average, except the saturated eyes I now knew were dyed in that same homebound hue as the Blue Planet's.

"It's... Thank you."

My guide, as I was beginning to think of him, only smiled, the first purely happy one I had seen. One not bound by pride, or playfulness, cockiness, or competitiveness, but one simply gleeful to see another experience a mutual love for something.

He wore it well.

I hoped that I wore mine just as well.

It had been a long fucking day.

And, as what looked to be a holographic screen entered my vision, I didn't doubt it would end up even longer.

-

"So, to have not seen the Web of Worlds before, where exactly are you from?"

He knew that I wasn't one of his people- Dragons, apparently- but if this was the only night sky he had ever known, it made sense why he was curious as to why I hadn't seen anything. That much couldn't be explained away as a product of my species.

Still, it didn't seem unreasonable to him. Maybe he assumed I was from one of those planets that looked overcast. What did seem curious to him, however, was the peculiar manifestation in front of me. With the way he examined it, with more curiosity than confusion, he didn't seem surprised by its existence but rather by the form it took. Maybe RPGs weren't a thing here?

I guessed that I wouldn't get to ask how the sun worked quite yet. Even if this was a big planet and gravity worked similarly to earth, the sun shouldn't be orbiting it. And during the daytime, the sunshine was clear, so the Web couldn't be orbiting it...

'Ah, whatever, it's irrelevant right now, still...'

"Excuse me?" the Dragon in front of me asked, laying his hand on his fist.

"Oh, um, sorry, I spaced out, lost in thoughts and all. I'm not from the Web of Worlds, I think." I responded. At this point, I trusted him, and being honest about my situation would be the best way for me to get the answers I needed.

"Are you sure it wasn't a Zokich simulacrum? I know they've been looking into alternate realities. Maybe something went wrong and your memories stayed sealed." he offered very unhelpfully.

"Well, now I'm not, but that's a question I am absolutely not prepared to deal with. Speaking of, do you know what this is?" I shot back, moving on from that topic and vaguely gesturing at the thing in front of me.

"Yeah, you should only show that to people you trust."

"Then don't look."

"Ah, there's not much to see at the moment."

"I feel vaguely insulted by that statement."

He just smiled. Not in the pure way he had moments prior, but in the way you'd smile at a dog chasing its own tail. I would've punched this guy in the face if he didn't have a solid head on me. On top of likely having some sort of fantasy bullshit powers.

"But still, Visualization, huh? As far as mental enhancements go, that one probably has the most use, but it probably won't get you too far here. I'm just curious why there's only one node, and why it's second level at awakening..."

He was referring to the text on the screen in front of me, which was connected to some part of me I had never felt before and cannot describe. The same part of me that seemed to carry the meaning of his words. If I were told I had to, I would probably describe it as connected to the thing that separated 'me' from the 'world around me'.

'Wonder what Descartes would have to say about that,' I idly wondered.

The text in question read as follows:

-

Soul Skill Awakened - Visualization (2/10)

-

It was displayed on a holographic screen similar to that of an RPG interface, if you were to take a generic version of it. Some gold embellishments on the edges framing a transparent blue screen, with golden text upon it. Way too gaudy, but apparently they weren't all like this, so it may have been my fault.

"Do you know what your Manifestation represents? Mine's a plaque, and I don't think I've ever seen one I didn't recognize," he seemed to let loose on his own, obviously thinking about it. I took an educated guess and assumed that a Manifestation was whatever these words appeared on. Likely important, though I still didn't quite understand the function

"It's reminiscent of some games we had back on our world. I didn't play too many, though. Only something similar with some friends," I replied to his mumblings.

"Who is we? What do you people call yourself?"

"Humans. How do you close it?"

"I guess... How would you usually close one of those?"

I didn't know. I thought for a moment and swiped it away with my hand. That seemed to do the trick, but I could still feel it in that weird borderline between me and not me. I couldn't get the information from it in that state, but I felt like I'd know when something changed and I knew I could bring it back with a swipe in the opposite direction. Which was strange, but thankfully I knew I could force it to not manifest. I felt a little bit different, too. I don't know what it was, but I felt like I could feel that border in the world around me. It seemed to ebb and flow at a strange frequency, and I felt it dance around and crackle above me like a flame.

"So, uh, what does Visualization do?"

I stared up at the sky out of habit and likely lingering desire, although I pulled myself away before I spaced out again. He seemed to shift and gave me a look of almost... Pity. Maybe it was a bad skill? It certainly didn't sound too impressive.

"It's rare. Not just for us, as most in that archetype are, but in general. Apparently, it has advantages in using Catalysts, like this," the Dragon paused, and gestured toward his seemingly bottomless canteen, "but that's all we know."

"What's your Soul Skill, then?"

"They're usually just called skills once they grow. Currently, mine is known as the Inheritor of the First Flame, my family's adaptation of the Innate Bound Flame skill," he replied quickly as if he wanted to be asked this, with no small amount of pride. He said it in an exaggerated 'hushed' tone, insinuating it wasn't a proper question to ask.

I figured I wouldn't let him know it meant nothing to me.

"What does it do?"

"Ugh, humans."

I should have lied about my species' name. I wish I were clever enough to have predicted this.

-

So, essentially, it was an extension of the bound flame ability focused on full-body usage. Apparently, the Bound Flame skill usually evolved by putting it into a specific area where it can release from. The eyes may make it fast and long-range, the hands may make it good at enchanting weapons, the legs may allow for it to be expelled for mobility. The ability started with making 'veins' of fire through a painful process to edit the [Unknown Word] enough for evolution against its nature forcefully, creating a transformation quality.

At least, apparently. I had no idea what the hell that meant, but asking more questions meant fueling the Dragon's ego. Apparently, it meant a jack-of-all-trades sort of fire magic that could have more interesting abilities later. Abilities that he claimed to possess, although I hadn't gotten information on what, exactly, those words were. Still, I confirmed he could create fire, which was enough for the cold of the night. It was interesting, though I have a burn mark from when he tried to make a few dancing tongues of flame for ideal coverage, forgetting that fire does hurt most things.

I almost grumbled 'God, Dragons...', but my primal instincts told me that would be a bad idea.

We went to bed soon after. I spent a long time star(?)gazing to keep my head away from the uncomfortable stone. It was cold, and eventually, my shivering prompted my companion to give me his blanket. It was sort of warm, but a bit scratchy, obviously made to be light and warm rather than comfortable. In its own way, though, it was cozy. It was a bit easier after that, though I did feel bad for him.

He seemed fine, but I wasn't sure if he was putting on a tough front or actually fine. Fantasy bullshit withstanding, it could easily have gone either way.

"Human, I know it's a bit late to ask, but what's your name?" I heard a voice from behind a nearby rock. Apparently, it was cozier, but I liked the company of the stars and worlds.

And, it seemed that him not offering a name wasn't because of an obscure tradition that placed great importance on names, for one reason or another.

But it gave me a question I didn't know how to answer. I hated my name, and I hated what it carried with it. But... Offering a different one would only be the escape I promised I wouldn't let myself have. The baggage tied to it holds me down, but it grounds me in the same way. Letting it go for a lighter, more aesthetically pleasing weight, it didn't sit right with me.

Not yet, once again.

I tried to tell myself that a name wasn't everything, but it was sometimes so hard to distinguish between a comfort and a coward's way out.

At this point, the silence had gone on long enough that I was likely assumed to still be sleeping. I needed to say something, but I couldn't force the lump in my throat out. It felt like knives to say.

"For now, just call me Leaf," I said. The word felt so easy to say, so comfortable, and I could feel some pain receding.

And I was absolutely terrified of that.

I heard him shift and pause too. Maybe he had concerns with his name, too. There was an obvious idea that went through my head, but I figured I wouldn't construct a fanfiction of a life story for him until I knew a little bit more about him.

"Nice to meet you then, Leaf. I'm Rilu. Oh, did I tell you we need to get out of here two days from now?"

I didn't want to sleep tonight anyway.