The second crack in the sky turned out to be more stubborn than the first.
Kael's axe bounced off it with a metallic *clang* and came spinning back down. He caught it, frowned up at the offending fracture, and tried again. Another bounce.
"Hmm," he said.
"Ha!" The wizard practically bounced on his toes. "You see? That was obviously a fluke! The dimensional matrices have stabilized, and now your crude physical approach is completely—"
Kael's third throw hit the crack at a slightly different angle. Reality made a sound like a very large piece of paper tearing, and the fracture sealed itself shut.
The wizard's triumphant expression froze on his face.
"Different kind of crack," Kael explained helpfully, shouldering his axe again. "Needed a different kind of hitting."
"That makes no sense whatsoever," the wizard said weakly.
"Makes perfect sense," Kael replied. "Some things break clean, some things break crooked. Crooked breaks need crooked fixes."
One of the scholars had started frantically scribbling notes. "Fascinating! He seems to be unconsciously applying non-linear force dynamics to trans-dimensional substrates! The theoretical implications—"
"Will someone please explain to him that this is impossible?" the wizard pleaded to the camp at large.
The merchant, who had been watching with the fascination of a man witnessing someone juggle live scorpions, cleared his throat. "Well, it seems to be working..."
"But it CAN'T work!"
"And yet," the merchant gestured at the now-sealed cracks, "it appears to be working quite well."
Kael had moved on to the third fracture, this one showing what looked like a forest where all the trees were growing upside down. He hefted Skullsplitter, then paused and looked back at the wizard.
"What's your name, fancy robe man?"
"Magister Aldwin Threeweave, Seventh Circle of the Azure Academy, specializing in dimensional thaumaturgy and—"
"Too long," Kael interrupted. "I'll call you Al."
"That's not— I am a Magister of—"
"Al it is." Kael turned back to the sky. "Al, what happens if I don't fix these?"
"Well, theoretically, continued dimensional instability could result in reality cascade failure, leading to the complete breakdown of magical infrastructure, followed by societal collapse and—"
"Bad things?"
"Very bad things."
"Right." Kael nodded and threw his axe at the upside-down forest crack.
This time, something came *out* of the crack.
It was about the size of a horse, covered in what appeared to be purple fur, had too many legs, and was making a noise like an angry cat being forced through a trumpet. The moment it landed in their camp, it immediately began trying to eat the nearest tent.
Everyone started screaming again.
Everyone except Kael, who sighed deeply, walked over to the creature, and punched it in what he assumed was its face.
The thing stopped eating the tent and looked at him with what might have been surprise, if surprise could be expressed by someone with twelve eyes arranged in a spiral pattern.
"Bad," Kael told it firmly. "No eating people things."
The creature tilted its head—or at least, the part of it that had the most eyes.
"Go home," Kael pointed back at the crack, which was still showing the upside-down forest. "Back where you came from."
The purple thing looked at the crack, looked at Kael, looked at his raised fist, and apparently decided that discretion was the better part of not getting punched again. It galumphed back to the fracture and somehow managed to squeeze itself through.
Kael picked up his axe from where it had fallen and threw it at the crack again. The fracture sealed with another glass-breaking sound.
"There," he said, dusting off his hands. "That one had stuff in it."
The camp was staring at him again.
"You just..." Al the wizard gestured vaguely. "You punched an extra-dimensional entity and told it to go home."
"Seemed polite," Kael said. "Didn't want to kill it if it was just lost."
"You cannot simply PUNCH dimensional anomalies!"
"Why not?"
"Because... because..." Al's hands flailed helplessly. "Because they're made of condensed magical energy from alternate reality substrates!"
Kael considered this. "So?"
"So they don't have physical forms that can be affected by kinetic force!"
"Then why did punching it work?"
Al opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then made a small whimpering sound.
The scholar who had been taking notes looked up from his frantic scribbling. "Actually, this is quite fascinating from an anthropological perspective. His complete rejection of accepted magical theory seems to be creating a sort of localized reality distortion field where—"
"Nobody asked you, book man," Kael said. He was already walking toward the fourth crack, which showed what appeared to be an ocean made of liquid starlight.
"My name is Professor Cornelius Inkwell, and I'll have you know I'm a respected researcher in applied magical theory!"
"Sure you are, Corny."
"That's not— Professor Inkwell!"
"Too long. Corny."
As Kael lined up his next throw, the merchant approached cautiously. "Excuse me, Master... Ironborn, was it?"
"Just Kael."
"Kael, then. I'm Beltran Goldweigh. I was wondering... do you do this sort of thing professionally?"
Kael paused in his wind-up. "What sort of thing?"
"Fix impossible magical problems by ignoring them and hitting them with an axe."
"First time, actually," Kael admitted. "Usually I just hit bandits and wild animals. But they were all screaming about the sky being broken, so..." He shrugged.
"Ah." Beltran nodded thoughtfully. "And would you be interested in... continued employment in this field?"
"Depends. Does it pay?"
"Oh yes. Very well, I should think."
"And do I get to hit things?"
"Apparently, yes."
"Sounds like a good job," Kael said, and threw his axe at the starlight ocean.
The fracture sealed. The camp fell silent again.
"Right then," Beltran announced to the group. "I believe we've just witnessed the birth of the world's first professional Dimensional Repair Specialist."
Al the wizard made another whimpering sound.
Kael grinned and started walking toward the next crack. This job was going to be fun.