Millennial Mage

Tala followed Pallaun and Thron through the broken hallways and rooms of the House of Blood’s hold.

Just before they went out into the city, Pallaun pointed towards her, and she almost felt magics wrap around her.

Thron jumped slightly, his eyes sliding off of her when he tried to look her way. “Invisibility?”

Pallaun quirked a smile. “Nothing so… crude. You can consider it a perception filter. No one will see her.”

The dwarf looked skeptical. “Is it a perception filter, though?”

“No.” The Eskau turned and walked away, Tala and Thron following without a word.

I could try to make a run for it, but I’d be insane if I thought I’d get away from Pallaun.

With nothing else she could really do, she stayed with the other two.

The walk through the city passed quickly, with Pallaun ensuring that she stayed a good distance from everyone they passed.

She almost laughed at that. What did she really know about them? Very, very little.

It wasn’t long before the Eskau of the House of Blood and the two former members arrived at a building that resembled nothing so much as a hexagonal gazebo, made entirely of obsidian, with solid sides.

It was situated near the center of a large park, and to Tala’s surprise, she thought she’d been to this park before, though she couldn’t remember exactly when.

Stupid broken brain, not able to remember such simple things…

Pallaun placed his hand on one side, and the volcanic glass folded away from him, revealing a doorway.

It was odd, seeing the man touch something so close to his own skin-tone. His hand almost seemed to vanish for a moment.

Or, he used magic that caused that effect. She was incredibly irritated that she didn’t actually know which it was.

The wall closed behind them, once they were all inside, and Thron’s slight jerking let her know that the magics around her were gone.

“Right this way.” Pallaun led them into the center of the open space to where a disk of the material was raised above the floor.

Thron examined it. “This is what it takes to go between Zeme and the Doman-Imithe?”

“No.”

The dwarf paused, clearly expecting more. When it didn’t come, he huffed. “Just ‘No?’”

“Yes.”

Thron quirked a smile, but then, the smile faded. “That’s a very small platform.”

“It is.”

“So… we’ll have to stand close together?”

Pallaun shrugged. “No. There will be a hole.”

Thron visibly relaxed, then stiffened. “We have to jump in?”

“It will be a horizontal hole.”

“So… a tunnel?”

“No, there will be no depth.”

Thron opened his mouth to argue further, then paused. A moment later, he closed his mouth and frowned. “Huh.”

The Eskau turned to Tala, his expression unreadable. “Tali?”

She lifted her gaze from the black disk to the man addressing her. “You know, it’s pretty hard to focus on you, when you’re the exact same color as the stuff behind you.”

He grinned at that, his perfectly white teeth standing out in an incredibly creepy way.

Wait… were his teeth always white? She had no idea. But what other color would they have been?

“Good to see you aren’t utterly broken.”

That soured her mood. “Yes, it is good to be whole before I die.”

He nodded. “There is wisdom in that, yes. Had I known you’d become wiser as you closed in on death, I’d have pushed you harder.”

She chuckled lightly, but it faded to silence when his expression didn’t change. In the end, Tala just grimaced.

When she’d stopped making noise, he continued, “But I wanted to say something, before you depart.”

Tala waited.

“What Be-thric did to you… you won’t understand this, but I want you to know, if we had known what he was going to try, we would have stopped him.”

“Who is we? And what would you have stopped?” She had to be careful, here. She couldn’t let her curiosity reveal her ‘not-Tali-ness.’ Yeah, that’s a good descriptor. Right?

She hitched at the lack of response from Alat.

“Tali?”

Tala jerked her focus back to Pallaun. “My apologies… my mind… I’m not thinking correctly.”

He sighed. “I was afraid there might be degradation now that Be-thric is dead, but that is no matter. I have said my piece, and I won’t be answering any questions. You will go through first, immediately, and Thron will follow after.”

The dwarf raised an eyebrow, likely at the use of his real name.

Pallaun smiled. “You’re no longer a member of the House of Blood. You don’t need to keep the ‘fiercer’ name.”

Thron huffed. “I suppose that’s true enough. Thron will do just fine for me, once again.” His eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t invalidate my contract.”

“Of course not. It was keyed to your magic and concept, nothing as transitory as a name.”

“Good, I thought not.”

Palluan and Thron clasped hands. “I will reopen this hole in three days’ time.”

The dwarf hesitated. “Wait. If she dies too soon, her sanctum won’t hold out until then. It’ll break apart, and I won’t be able to fulfill my part of the deal.”

Pallaun waved that away. “The Doman-Imithe has already solved that issue. Simply bring the gear back, and all will be well.”

“But—”

Pallaun raised a hand. “No. I will not teach you on this subject; you can use your own eyes and mind.” The big man tossed a pack to Thron.

Tala hadn’t seen where it had come from, and that was surprising given it’s size. He had it in his own sanctum? Does he have his sanctum on him somewhere?

“Food, water, and diversion for both of you for a few days. No need for her to go hungry before the end.”

Tala found the sentiment oddly affecting and swallowed back some tears. “Thank you, Pallaun.”

He waved that off.

Wait… why would we need that? I have my sanctum.

Pallaun clapped his hands together and magic swirled.

Tala could just barely feel and see the edges of the power.

The world broke and opened.

There was no other description of it.

There was suddenly a hole in the world, just as Pallaun had stated, through which Tala could see… wrongness.

Yes, great description, Tala. ‘Wrongness.’ She grimaced at her own lack of descriptive ability.

The edges of the hole danced with what might have been void magics, but she couldn’t perceive well enough to tell.

The most prominent feature through the hole was a simple, black obsidian wall, looking almost identical to what actually lay on the other side of the space the hole occupied.

There was, however, something wrong with the space through that hole.

Tala took a step back. “What the rust?”

Pallaun shook his head. “You go through, or I have to kill you and throw your body through. Please don’t make me do that.”

She glanced to his face and had no doubt, whatsoever, that he was serious.

She swallowed, hesitating only a moment longer, and stepped through.

That first footfall felt off.

Like going down the stairs and finding one step just a bit closer or further than expected.

She didn’t stumble, but it felt uncomfortable.

As she moved through the hole in the world fully, she began to feel every wrinkle and crease in her perfectly fitted clothes, every flake of iron paint, every fleck of sweat and dirt that she’d acquired through the day's battle.

That was all today? It felt like at least two weeks ago that the other Houses had invaded the hold of the House of Blood.

The smooth volcanic glass beneath her bare feet had a thousand, thousand variations, undulations, and miniscule ridges.

Even with her enhanced senses, she wouldn’t have been able to feel all of it, and yet, even without those senses, she somehow did feel every little bit.

The heaviness of her body, and her lack of active magical enhancement to her strength, hit her like a ton of bricks, and she gritted her teeth as that physical strain came to the forefront of her thoughts.

Strangest of all, however, was her gate.

The throughput was still the same, dumping an uncomfortable amount of power into her body with nothing for it to be used on, but it felt like it was coming from a greater distance, like someone had added length to the faucet of power.

She had no idea how she could feel that, but she could.

A shiver ran through her, and she felt her skin contract to form goosebumps, the little hairs all over her body shifting in a cavalcade of senses that would have been overwhelming to her even before she lost her mental augmentations.

She stumbled then, catching herself on the obsidian wall with one hand.

She jerked that hand back as her palm began to burn, while her fingers almost stuck to the frozen material.

Hot and cold at the same time? Just in slightly different locations? How haven’t they equalized?

She just felt grateful that the ground seemed to be a uniform, slightly uncomfortable cold. And now that I’ve noticed that, it won’t go away…

She turned back towards the hole, doing her best to force down the seemingly infinite, slightly-off sensations.

First, she noticed that on this side of the hole there was only the raised round platform and the one wall of obsidian that seemed like the Zeme side. The rest of the space was open to the outside, but she didn’t really look that way, yet.

Next, she saw Thron stepping through and grimacing, presumably feeling similar disjointment to Tala.

The hole vanished as soon as the dwarf was through, and Tala was confronted with what lay beyond.

Or, more accurately, she was confronted with what didn’t lay beyond, and what lay within that gap.

That makes no sense.

Some five feet beyond where the hole had been, the ground fell away.

Only once she’d taken that in, did she look up.

Her blood ran cold.

Whatever chunk of ground they were standing on seemed to be spinning slowly because the vista beyond was falling away in an odd, slow sort of dance.

She could see uncountable fragments of rock and earth scattered around in a kaleidoscope of spinning, twirling, ever-moving, utterly silent madness.

Some were just plain material: crags of granite, mounds of dirt, spheres of water, but others were more.

One, briefly visible through the maelstrom, had trees growing out of every side of it, their roots intertwining to form a lattice-like cage.

In that small glance before it was hidden from view, Tala thought she saw that cage packed with skeletons, all looking in her direction.

Another seemed to have two fountains that were spraying outside of their own basin, the water arching oddly to land in the other, presumably in an endless cycle, which defied reason.

There were too many, and too varied, for her to comprehend, especially with her mundane mind.

Rusting gold eating slime.

The largest pieces she could see were only a few hundred feet in any dimension save one that was almost fully fallen out of sight.

That one seemed to be nearly a thousand feet long, and had a oddly familiar shape, though she couldn’t place it.

It called to her, but she resisted the urge to take a running leap to reach it.

Even so, Tala found herself carefully walking to the edge, her every step sending oddly echoing resonant sounds through the space.

Feet on stone do not make that sound… Though, she couldn’t place what the sound actually should be from.

Leaning out, over the sheer drop, she examined the large mass once more.

When it was almost out of sight once again, she felt something stir, and a great eye opened upon its surface.

Tala jerked back before it could focus and orient on her.

She stumbled away from the edge, tripping over her own feet and falling to land on the raised obsidian. She kept herself from calling out in surprise, but just barely.

Thron was beside her in an instant, though he kept out of reach. “What is it? What did you see?”

She swallowed. “Something massive.”

The dwarf looked incredibly uncomfortable. “We’re spinning fairly quickly. I’d rather we not still be here, when it comes around again.”

“Agreed.” Tala instantly understood what he meant. We can discuss things in my Sanctum.

Even so, she was shaking as she pulled at Kit on her belt.

The pouch’s strap didn’t dissolve as she was expecting. What?

She tried to open Kit, but the pouch remained sealed. “What?”

Thron had been watching. “That’s probably why Pallaun gave us this.”

He lifted the pack that he had slung onto his back before letting it fall back into place

“It seems that dimensional storage items don’t work here.”

In a panic, Tala placed her hand on Kit, and found… stability? What is going on?

She couldn’t properly feel what was happening, but she could sense enough to feel that Kit was fine and in an odd way, dormant, at least with relationship to her.

Tala felt sure that the inside was untouched, and somehow stable, but Kit was using almost no power.

She didn’t understand why, but there it was.

I’m glad that Kit still has capacity for all the power I’m dumping into it.

That wouldn’t last forever, though.

A voice of an oft forgotten passenger piped up in the momentary, awkward silence.

“What have you done to me?” Rob’s voice cracked out into the silence, seeming to shatter something.

Tala winced, but then, she was suddenly able to hear the distance chucks bumping or sloshing into one another, the grinding of stone on stone, the skittering of claws.

She looked around in a panic, but the sound seemed to be as nonsensical as everything else, changing without ever really revealing its source.

Thron had clapped his hand down over his pocket. “We’re in the Doman-Imithe, Rob. Shhh.”

“The broken world?” The orb’s voice dropped to a whisper. “What madness brought us here?”

“I thought you paid attention to what happened around you?”

“I was bored, so I was pretending to sleep. It seems that I did too good a job.”

Thron grumbled. “I wish you’d continue.”

Tala felt a small smile tug at her lips, but it faded as her own internal voice remained silent.

I’ll get you back, Alat.

“So, do we stay here, or…?”

The dwarf grimaced. “I’m supposed to be here, at this location, to bring out your gear after you die.”—he gave her a searching look—“Care to share why that hasn’t happened yet?”

She shrugged. “I created a bonding spellform inside my finger, using my blood as a medium. The dasgannach doesn’t want to bond me, so it won’t eat the working, but it also doesn’t want to leave any iron unclaimed, so it won’t leave. We’re at an impasse.”

Thron blinked at her for a long moment, then barked a laugh before quickly covering his own mouth.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty… odd turn of events.”

The dwarf grunted. “I’d say so, yeah. I won’t claim to know much about bonding workings, but I didn’t think you could create them within yourself. Or…”—he frowned—“Isn’t it just a bad idea? I confess, I’ve likely no idea what I’m talking about.”

“You’re not supposed to? I think it has something to do with creating a protian weapon though, at least those for the House of Blood, but that’s just a guess.”

He grunted. “So, you’re not going to die?”

“Probably not in the short term? It’s a problem I’m working on.” She decided not to tell him that she was on a clock. No need to put the idea that my death is inevitable into his head.

“That puts a damper on my plans.”

“I noticed that. I can’t say I’m sorry.”

He quirked a smile. “I’d imagine you wouldn’t be, no.”

“You want the concept sword, right? That’s what you’re hoping to claim?”

Thron jerked his head to the side, glancing towards where the hole had been. “Quiet, girl. If they learn that’s on the table, they’ll kill me before the contract can be completed.”

She arched an eyebrow. “The contract that requires me to die?”

He hesitated. “Well… yes.”

“I can’t say I’m too worked up over it, then.”

He glowered at her. “It’s not like I want you to die. But if I can get that… item? I can’t say I’ll be sad about that part.”

“You know, you could just kill me now and be done with it.”

“What, and be alone in here for three days? That seems like a poor choice.”

She snorted. The conversation was helping her keep her mind off the wrongness of… well… everything.

Unfortunately, just realizing that that reminded her, and she glanced up.

A moment later, she frowned. “Thron?”

“Yes, Tali?”

She hesitated. No, no reason to correct him on my name. Not now, if ever. “How fast do you think we’re spinning?”

“No idea. I have no idea how big this fragment is, so—”

“No, no. Look up. Tell me how fast you think we should do a full circuit.”

He looked up hesitantly, clearly not liking the oddity of their surroundings any more than she did. After a moment, he frowned. “Fast. As in, I would assume that we’re doing a full rotation every few minutes.”

“That’s what I thought, but we’ve been here more than a few minutes, and I haven’t seen any repetition.”

He nodded. “I’ve been trying not to look too closely, but some things definitely stood out, and I haven’t seen those again.”

Without really deciding to, they both stood, staring upward.

Neither really tracked the time, but it wasn’t short.

There was an odd lulling and pulling at their minds, like a nightmare that didn’t want to let them wake up.

The horrifyingly off scenery never repeated itself, and there was no indication that their chuck was moving relative to the rest, aside from their spin.

“That’s… disconcerting.”

Thron’s voice broke Tala’s almost hypnotized focus, and she jerked her eyes off the world above. “Yeah.”

They both lowered their gazes, shuddering and shaking themselves.

“So,”—he scratched at his eyebrow—“what’s your plan? I have to believe you have one.”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?”

She shook her head.

“I… I need to do something. I have this thing imbedded all through me.”

The reminder seemed to make Thron take a step back, though he hadn’t been close to begin with.

“Yeah. I need to think.”

Thron grunted. “Very well. I’ll see what we have in the pack.”

With a smile, she sat down off to one side, closing her eyes and trying to shut out the oddities of the Doman-Imithe.

Alright, Tala. I need a plan.

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