"Is this some kind of joke?"
Kaelan stared incredulously at the glowing entity before him, its form shifting between wisps of light and something almost human. The chamber—if you could call an endless void with no discernible walls a chamber—hummed with energy that made his skin tingle.
"I choked on gum? That's how I died?" He ran his hands through his hair, pacing across what seemed like solid ground despite the starscape beneath his feet. "Seventeen years of life and I go out like a background character?"
The entity's laugh echoed around him, neither male nor female but somehow both. "Death rarely concerns itself with dramatic timing, Kaelan. Many great kings have died on toilets. At least yours was quick."
"Small comfort," he muttered, coming to a stop before a massive wheel that hadn't been there moments before. It towered over him, at least fifteen feet tall, covered in symbols, names, and images he couldn't quite focus on—they shifted whenever he tried to look directly at them.
"Every soul gets one spin," the entity explained, gesturing toward the wheel with a ripple of light. "Where it lands determines your next life and... certain advantages you might carry with you."
Kaelan approached the wheel cautiously. "So, what, I'm being reincarnated?"
"In a manner of speaking." The entity's voice carried an amused tone. "Though perhaps not in the way you might expect."
Kaelan reached out, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of the wheel. It hummed under his touch, sending vibrations up his arm. "And I just... spin it?"
"Unless you'd prefer the void for eternity."
"Funny." He grabbed the edge of the wheel and pulled, setting it in motion with a metallic groan. The wheel spun faster and faster, the symbols and names blurring together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of light and color.
As it began to slow, Kaelan leaned forward, trying to make out where it might land. A familiar name caught his eye just as the wheel clicked into place with a sound like thunder.
"Taylor Hebert?" he read aloud, frowning. "Wait, the bug girl? From that web serial I never read?"
The entity seemed to smile, though it had no face. "You know of her?"
"Only that she controls bugs." Kaelan shrugged. "My roommate was obsessed with it. Said she was way more powerful than people realized."
"Indeed." The entity waved its hand, and another wheel materialized beside the first. This one was smaller, covered in locations Kaelan didn't recognize. "One more spin, for your destination."
Hesitantly, Kaelan set this wheel in motion too. It spun wildly before coming to a sudden stop. He couldn't read the strange script where the pointer landed.
"Where—"
Before he could finish his question, the ground beneath him vanished. Kaelan felt himself falling, his body dissolving into motes of light as a sensation like being pulled through a needle's eye overtook him. The entity's final words followed him into the darkness:
"Good luck, little spider. May your webs catch more than just flies"
—
Kaelan awoke with a gasp, his heart hammering against his ribs. Sunlight streamed through the small window of his room, dust motes dancing in the golden beam. For a moment, disorientation gripped him—the dream had been so vivid, so real.
But this wasn't his apartment. The walls were stone, not drywall. The air smelled of spices and salt and something else, something unfamiliar yet intimately known.
Qarth.
The name came to him unbidden, as did a flood of memories that weren't his—or rather, weren't his before. His name was still Kaelan, but now he was Kaelan Dhasir, son of Eran Dhasir, a minor merchant of Qarth, and Elyana, a Dornish woman who had died when he was young.
He sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings with new eyes. The chamber was small but not uncomfortable, with a narrow bed, a wooden chest for his meager belongings, and a clay washbasin. Everything felt familiar and foreign at once.
But something else was different. As he focused, he became aware of... presences. Tiny minds, hundreds of them, scattered throughout the house and beyond. He could feel them crawling, flying, burrowing. Insects. Thousands of insects, all around him, and somehow, he could sense every one.
"What the fuck," he whispered, then winced at the unfamiliar accent coloring his words.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the strange sensation. It was like having an extra set of limbs, awkward to control but instinctively there. Experimentally, he reached out with his mind toward the closest cluster of tiny lives—a nest of desert ants living in a small crack near the foundation of the house.
The response was immediate. The entire colony stirred, thousands of tiny bodies suddenly alert and waiting. Waiting for him. For his command.
Kaelan's eyes snapped open, his breath catching. "Holy shit," he murmured. "It's real."
A sharp bang on his door jolted him from his reverie.
"Boy! Are you still abed? The sun is high, and you've chores to complete!"
The voice was harsh, impatient—his father. Another set of memories surfaced: Eran Dhasir was not a kind man. A failed merchant with too much debt and too little scruples, known to drown his disappointments in sourleaf and cheap wine. The kind of man who saw his son as nothing more than another possession to be used, or sold if the price was right.
"Coming, Father!" Kaelan called back, surprised again at the unfamiliar timbre of his own voice.
He rose quickly, dressing in the simple linen tunic and trousers that constituted his daily wear. As he moved, he became aware of his body—lean but strong from years of carrying crates and running errands, with skin several shades darker than he was used to, a warm bronze that spoke of his mixed heritage. His hair fell past his shoulders in loose black waves, another gift from his Dornish mother.
As he worked, Kaelan's mind raced. This was no dream. Somehow, he really had died and been reincarnated into another world entirely—the world of ice and fire, of dragons and White Walkers, of political intrigue and brutal death. And he'd been given Taylor Hebert's powers.
What exactly can I do with these? he wondered, reaching out again to the insects around him. How far does my range extend? How many can I control at once? What kinds of bugs even exist in Qarth?
Experimentally, he sent a small scout party of ants up the wall and across his ceiling. They moved in perfect unison, forming patterns and shapes at his mental command. He could feel what they felt—the texture of the stone, the current of air from the window, the vibrations of footsteps.
This is incredible.
But more than that, it was useful. Especially in a place like Qarth, a city of merchants and secrets. Especially for someone with nothing to lose and everything to gain.
Kaelan gathered his thoughts, pulling the ants back to their nest, but keeping his awareness open. He knew one thing for certain: he wasn't staying here. Not with a father who saw him as a commodity to be traded.
As he moved to the door, his plan began to take shape. He'd need money first. Then connections. Then... well, then he'd see just how far a bug controller could rise in the greatest city that ever was or will be.
—
"You're late," Eran Dhasir growled as Kaelan entered the main room of their modest home. The man was hunched over a small table covered in scrolls and ledgers, his fingers stained with ink. Lines of worry and resentment had carved permanent furrows into his face, aging him beyond his forty-odd years.
"Forgive me, Father," Kaelan replied automatically, the response ingrained from years of placating the man's temper.
Eran merely grunted, gesturing to a pile of parcels near the door. "These need to be delivered. The addresses are marked. Be quick about it—I need you back by midday to mind the stall."
Kaelan nodded, gathering the packages. As he worked, he extended his awareness, searching for insects throughout the house. He found plenty: ants in the walls, flies in the kitchen, spiders in the corners, even a small scorpion that had made its home beneath a loose flagstone in the courtyard.
Experimentally, he sent some of the smaller flies toward his father, having them land on the man's scrolls, then the back of his neck. Eran swatted at them irritably, not noticing anything unusual about their coordinated movements.
Perfect, Kaelan thought. I can use them to spy.
"What are you smirking at, boy?" Eran snapped, looking up from his work with narrowed eyes.
"Nothing, Father," Kaelan replied, quickly schooling his features. "I was just thinking about the day ahead."
"Well, think less and work more. Those parcels won't deliver themselves."
Kaelan nodded again, gathering the last of the packages. But as he reached for the door, a new resolve hardened within him. He'd play the dutiful son one last time. Deliver these packages, work the stall, complete his chores. And then, when Eran inevitably passed out from too much wine tonight, he'd be gone.
As he stepped into the bright Qartheen morning, the sun beating down from a cloudless sky, Kaelan experimented further with his powers. He extended his awareness as far as he could, feeling it stretch like a muscle, reaching out to the insects in neighboring houses, in the street, in the small courtyard garden next door.
His range seemed to extend about two blocks in every direction—not the miles that Taylor eventually had in the stories, or so his roommate had told him, but significant nonetheless.
Within that space, he could feel every insect, from the smallest mite to the largest beetle. He could control them all simultaneously, directing thousands of tiny bodies with no more effort than it took to wiggle his fingers.
The possibilities were endless.
As he wound his way through the streets of Qarth, delivering his father's packages, Kaelan continued to experiment. He sent ants into coin purses, flies into conversations, spiders down into drains and up into eaves. He learned that while the vision through insect eyes was poor—a fractured, confusing kaleidoscope—their senses of touch, smell, and vibration were extraordinary.
He could feel the weight of coins, the texture of fabrics, the vibrations of whispered secrets. He could track movements through a house, count footsteps, even detect the subtle shifts in air that indicated a door being closed… or opened.