Mainak took one step, and glowing white light began enveloping and Enfolding him.

As it cleared, he found himself standing in an identical chamber in the heart of Ridmanya, over two thousand miles from Sangam. The familiar feeling of euphoria and slight dizziness passed within moments.

“Welcome, Commander.” A veteran Captain with a sprinkling of gray in his dark chocolate hair snapped a salute. “If you would please take the southern door, General Sevak is expecting you,” Chief Coordinator Miland said. Then, after a blink of consideration, he added in a more personable voice, “I hope my son’s diligence to his duties meets with your approval. He holds you in high regard.”

“As do I, him,” Mainak stated. “As a matter of fact, I just left him ruminating on the prospect of a promotion, if he manages to perform those duties that you mentioned to the best of his abilities, which I have no doubt he will.”

In the Rangers, or in any profession for that matter, nepotism was a fact of life, especially amongst aditarus, though it rarely swayed the decisions of those at the highest rung of the ladder.

In this case, however, never once in the last decade did Mainak ever regret hand-picking his immediate subordinate on the weight of the request made by an old colleague, the selfsame Miland, who not only happened to be Hollis’ father, but also an old acquaintance of Mainak’s from his time as an Initiate under Gurudeva Tathagata.

“An officer is only as good as his superior allows him to be,” Miland replied, “I have kept you long enough from your duties. It was good to see you again.”

“Thank you, Miland,” Mainak said, heading for the third floor of the Command Post with hurried steps.

While walking past a window, his gaze turned outwards, where Maharanya stretched as far as the eye could see. Mainak’s feet slowed on their own accord.

The half-mile wide circular second Ranger Platform that held the Command Post was located at an altitude of approximately five thousand feet. As a result, an aditaru could see far enough to even be able to glimpse the curvature of Sindria on clear days. Today was one such day. After being stuck for so long in Sangam, the sense of freedom evoked by the increased altitude brought an involuntary smile to Mainak’s face.

The scene before him was familiar, boring, and yet somehow oddly comforting.

The skyline was crisscrossed by the gigantic Great Vines that reached for the stars and numerous Arms that connected the Vines at similar junction Platforms to the one Mainak was currently standing on. These held most of the permanent structures, and it was also where large portion of the population resided, especially the more affluent families, as it was considered a symbol of status and prosperity to reside near the domineering kernel signature of the Great Vines. There were also other – much smaller – Platforms that were artificially grown on the Arms. Unlike the junction ones, these did not have any Great Vines going through them, and hence, were ideally suited to hold warehouses, small industrial complexes and businesses, as well as sensitive labs used by Artificers and Armorers, since there was less chance of the Vines causing interference.

Other houses, barracks, even the royal palace was visible from the circular window, as was Jagat-Dwar, the largest lake in the continent of Anantika. Almost against his wishes, Mainak’s traitorous eyes searched the horizon, soon identifying one particular patch of forest. Before bittersweet memories of the past could overwhelm him, Mainak averted his gaze and hastened away, hoping his time spent in Ridmanya was going to be a short one.

When the desk-sergeant outside the general’s study saw him, he shot to his feet with a salute. “I will inform him presently, Commander.” He knocked on the door, entered after a muffled reply, then came out swiftly. “You may go in, Commander.”

The General’s office consisted of a single large room which was even larger than Mainak’s own office in the Green Castle. Apart from two floor-to-ceiling bookcases, six chairs and a small refreshment table surrounded by two low backless chairs, the only furniture was a huge mahogany desk behind which the tall, heavily muscled General was seated in a leather-cushioned chair.

As Mainak saluted, Sevak gestured to a chair with his hand, which Mainak obligingly settled into, doing his utmost to conceal the concern he had felt upon seeing the small smile on the General’s face. Though usually a boisterous man – by aditarun standards – and no stranger to a smile, this one seemed almost forced. His kernel signature, unsurprisingly, revealed nothing.

“I will be brief. Her Majesty has requested your presence,” Sevak said without preamble, proving that his reputation for directness was well-deserved. Unlike most aditarus, Mainak found it refreshing.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, shifting forward slightly. His curiosity was definitely piqued. “A new mission?”

“Yes…ah, well, very few aditarus are privy to the nature of the mission you would be asked to undertake, but suffice to say, it will be of utmost importance.” The General paused. “I am not authorized to say anything more, at least not until Her Majesty has spoken with you.” He got to his feet, straightened his coat, and ordered, “Follow me, if you please. Time is of the essence.”

Mainak had known Sevak long enough to deduce that he himself was unaware of the exact nature of the mission. But contradicting his immediate superior’s indirect assertion did not seem wise. So he quietly digested the information and followed the General out of the office.

Quarter of a bell later, as they navigated the twisted corridors of the wooden Command Post, Mainak kept wondering about the secrecy surrounding this mission.

He had undertaken espionage missions in Aiminia, Arunia and the Trade Cities before. His ability to interact with humans, put them at ease, gossip with them, even befriend them – a daunting proposition for most aditarus – made him an excellent information gathering Emissary, or spy, to use a vulgar term. Where most aditarus purposefully avoided humans, he at times enjoyed human company more than the company of his fellow aditarus. But in all the missions he had been asked to undertake in the past, few had necessitated this degree of secrecy and none had involved the Deeshayer, at least not directly.

But he had formed several hypotheses, the first and most likely of which was that the mission would entail journey into the continent of Gaia, since currently, all the moving pieces were in that part of the board – the board being Sindria.

He also wondered if this was going to be a solo mission, as most tended to be. On the off chance it was not, he hoped not to be burdened with someone, whether colleague or superior, who lacked proper understanding of how the Clerics operated. Even the most gifted Emissary could be privately condescending when it came to them, as most would compare them with Rangers, and find them lacking, failing to comprehend one simple fact.

Clerics started off as Disciples of Aimin, during the second half of the third century AC. The earliest members – unimaginatively called First Disciples – happened to be some of the greatest Clerics who have ever lived. Unified by the common goal of welfare of all and devotion to their Master, they banded together to form what would a century later be known as the Order of Aimin. As such, their beginning is steeped in religious connotation.

Rangers were never even remotely associated with any religious order. Omism did not have any.

This fundamental difference, even now, over a millennium after Aimin’s death, affected their organization in subtle ways that they themselves were often unaware of. Or to be more accurate, both the organizations, since the Order had split in two following the death of Aimin and the subsequent rapid crumbling of the Continental Dominion, in an event steeped in blood and secrecy – the Day of Mourning Moon.

Anarchy had reigned supreme in Gaia instead of the god-emperor for the next few decades, until a mundane human general named Arun, a stonemason’s son of humble beginnings, stamped his domineering authority on most of present-day Arunia and western Aiminia. He even managed to reform half of the scattered Order, while the other, more religious or zealot half – depending on whom you ask – coined the term Order of Clerics for themselves and remained hidden in eastern Aiminia. A handful of Clerics that had escaped the earlier chaos rampaging across Gaia fled through the Straits of Sangam and were instrumental in founding all four of the Trade Cities and their Center of Clerics, which is an institution similar to the University or the Academy.

Names may have undergone minor, or in case of the Trade Cities, major, changes. But one fact remained true even to this day.

Clerics held a significant portion of a nation’s political power and military might. As a result, any mission into Gaia, especially Arunia, would require their help. So Mainak had learned to work with them. Sometimes he even enjoyed it, much to his own surprise.

Within a quarter of a bell, they reached the Vine road of the royal Arm. As most of the structures of Ridmanya were built atop one Platform or another, navigating through the city meant one had to take the central slightly curved Vine road, built on top of the Arm that joined two neighboring Platforms. This one, with a width of about a hundred feet and length ten times that, connected with Deesha-Taru – the Platform on which the royal palace was located. In common, it roughly translated to ‘the aditaru or Vine who provides direction’, which, Mainak felt, was an apt, if a little too literal, description.

After reaching the palace, Sevak took a side path and headed for the royal gardens.

The palace, although sprawled across a huge area, was only two-stories tall, a considerably more modest structure than even a moderately wealthy human merchant’s domicile, let alone the monstrosities human emperors and kings seemed to prefer. The royal gardens, however, were a sight to behold. Nothing like it existed anywhere in the human kingdoms or even Maharanya. The sheer number and variety of flora was breathtaking. From his solitary past visit to this place, Mainak deduced that their destination was the Flower Gardens.

Long before the gardens became visible, the intoxicatingly powerful yet subtle smell of jasmine and kamini flowers heralded the crown jewel of the royal palace, nay the whole capital Grove.

It is said that an aditaru cherishes a beautiful and fragrant flower the way a human cherishes gold and power. Perhaps the ephemeral flower, in essence a symbol of the transitory nature of life, appeals to the constant unchanging part of our character, Mainak mused.

Soon the gardens came into view in an explosion of red, yellow, blue, pink, white – more colors than his eyes could discern or mind could describe. The corresponding life-related essences, ones that Mainak could sense in all the myriad hues of yellow and orange, made the whole experience even more surreal.

Haccchhhhewww!!

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A loud sneeze escaped despite Mainak’s best efforts at withholding it. After traveling a few more yards, he started to be able to differentiate one smell out of the multitude assaulting his senses. Mainak hastened his pace, and soon, to the right he could make out a small patch of red shrubs containing the stunningly beautiful Damadin flowers, affectionately called ‘Passion Lily.’

Chhhheewww!!

Mainak rubbed his nose as Sevak gave him a bemused look.

Damadin was one of the rarest flowers in the world, renowned for its beauty, especially amongst aditarus. Tall stem, lean, perfectly shaped petals in deep unblemished red. Even while sneezing his lungs out, Mainak had to admit they looked gorgeous.

But, as his Ranger training had taught him, they also hid a curious secret.

After ingesting another particularly rare substance called Horan’s Blue – by itself a harmless colorless liquid made from algae found in the depths of the Aiminian Sea – inhalation of Damadin fragrance can cause temporary paralysis, or even death, if given a high enough dose. After a few hundred yards, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Apologies, sir,” Mainak said, taking in deep breaths. “Allergies.”

Sevak gave a pleasant nod. “I figured as much.”

After winding through narrow pathways bordered by Dahlia, Weigela, Floribunda, rose, tagar, marigold, and gardenia, they reached the center where, under two large Duochura trees – one crowned in a carpet of tiny red buds, the other yellow – on a bench beside a small pond, Deeshayer Maya was reading what seemed to be an old leather-bound journal of some kind. The bright tiny red and yellow flowers coated the ground beneath the tree as well, creating an illusion of inferno amidst this ocean of peace.

Upon seeing the duo, who bowed deeply with hands at their side, the Deeshayer closed the journal and stood.

“Thank you, General.”

While surprised at being dismissed, Sevak, ever the loyal soldier, bowed and left promptly.

Deeshayer Maya, tall, elegant and striking in her impeccable lavender gown and a crown of white jasmine – her favorite flower by all accounts – looked searchingly at Mainak. Even though at close to three hundred, she was past her prime, she was still a handsome woman whose very presence commanded awe and respect from everyone around her, and not just because of her rank as a peerless DualMaestro – one of the few who, as well as being a strong TearMaestro, was also a skillful WardMaestro like Mainak himself. He waited patiently for the Deeshayer to commence the conversation. Anything else would be deemed impertinent.

“The knowledge I am about to impart to you is highly sensitive and is to be guarded with your life, if necessary.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Our Emissaries in Gaia have uncovered some troubling news. BrightHeart is building an army for the purpose of invading Arunia, and perhaps even Maharanya,” she paused. “But that is not the information that I find most distressing.”

An involuntary frown crossed Mainak’s face. What could be worse than the prospect of a war spanning both the known continents of Sindria?

“We have reason to believe that he has located, and perhaps even used, one of the Chambers of Creation. The one in Aimingar.”

To say Mainak was flabbergasted would have been an understatement.

Chambers of Creation, according to the Lore of Creation, part of the larger Lore of Legends or simply the Lore, were three advanced Alchemical facilities where Anantika and Aimin, using three of the Artifacts of Atma – Sphere of Space, Mount of Matter and Pools of Power – had created the very first aditarus and humans who had then spread out to inhabit the world of Sindria.

Aditarus with their long lifespan and inclination for preserving knowledge take the Lore for granted, but, staying true to their laid-back attitude, rarely try to prove its authenticity or locate the Chambers. Most humans believe both to be myths.

“Used it? How? To what end?” Mainak was so shocked by the revelation that he belatedly realized one does not address the Deeshayer in such an abrupt manner. “Your Majesty,” he managed to finish awkwardly.

If Maya noticed this breach in etiquette, she did not show any outward signs in her demeanor. And Mainak was certain that she did indeed notice it – she was famed as much for her astuteness as for her beauty, talent, and wisdom.

“We also believe he found the Fulcrum of Force…and used it. Successfully,” she said, brushing her immaculate gown, the first sign of nervousness she had shown thus far. “Though it took a few attempts. We became cognizant of this when the Emissaries located a roving band of misshapen creatures, in all probability products of an earlier failed attempt to make use of the Fulcrum in the Chamber,” she said while walking towards the pond where a pair of swans was gliding in the clear green water.

A tingle of joy and ecstasy passed through Mainak’s entire being, something which centuries of training enabled him to hide from his kernel signature.

After all, Skylords, according to one particular school of thought, were the bane of Enfolders. They would make formidable foes. But that would require the second one of the three Artifacts geared towards the unomynds.

The Globe of Gravity.

Oddly structured and war-minded, unomynd society supposedly used to be. Augmenters made for excellent foot-soldiers. Commanding each battalion, Field-Marshals were thought to be a more versatile and powerful variant of Augmenters, with the ability to affect Force from a distance. A step above – often literally – were the Skylords who ruled over the whole army from the sky. Hence, the name. Not much is known even by the most well-informed scholars about the aberrations known simply as Mind-Monarchs, except for the fact that even a single one of them could annihilate an entire army. Of humans.

For Enfolders, Skylords posed the greatest threat, though nobody knew why. At least, no one living. All such information went up in smoke and ash, along with Julibar, the grandson of Anantika and Aimin, and the last High Keeper of the Lore.

Never in his wildest dreams did Mainak ever think he would live to see such exciting times.

Of course, excitement was a double-edged sword.

The Artifacts were not objects to be trifled with. As evidenced by the Rebirth, the results can alter the course of history.

According to both the earliest Lore and the unedited Historica, unomynds have not trodden ground on this world. Ever. Let alone those of their number who could be termed Augmenters – beings who could affect Force. Some scholars believe that they had once shared the same world as the Creators, and had caused damage on a scale that even boggled the minds of the strongest Enfolder and Manipulator to have ever lived.

Of course, scholars being what they are, others of their number scoff at the idea, declaring it ridiculous beyond belief.

“Have they perfected the process, Your Majesty?” Mainak asked, suddenly apprehensive.

“Aiminia at present possesses a battalion of five hundred Augmenters, unknown to most people, even in the Aiminian army. Of course, most mundane humans have no idea such beings could even exist.” Maya turned to face him, her pale green eyes grave. “The exact nature of your current mission will be explained to you by Jeevanil of Avijan.” She gestured towards the bench where, much to Mainak’s astonishment, a tall middle-aged aditaru in white flowing kurta and trousers was seated cross-legged, quietly observing him.

Given the fact that they had been just talking about supposedly legendary creatures come to life, the name of his immediate superior took Mainak by surprise, but he recovered fast, partially, since there was a far more urgent question plaguing him.

How in the name of Om did he get there? Mainak was certain he was not there a moment ago. Teleporting so near a Space Enfolder without alerting him was next to impossible, especially if that Enfolder happened to be as sensitive to Space as Mainak was.

Also, despite being expertly masked, Mainak’s finely tuned senses enabled him to detect six opened or Awakened primary Chakras in the kernel signature of this enigmatic aditaru – all but the Third-Eye, just like the Deeshayer herself. Even more astounding, all the opened Chakras seemed to be as dense as a dormant Stomach Chakra about to trigger Bloodline Resonance for the second time, meaning he was far older than his appearance suggested. Of course, no secondary Chakra was Awakened, as was the case with all pure-blooded Enfolders.

The final oddity was a lingering trace of dark-violet Space essence in the blood layer of his channel which proved that he had just Portalled to the plain wooden bench, although Mainak failed to fathom how.

“You will be leaving for Jivanpur within the month. For the duration of your stay in Gaia, Jeevanil is to be your superior officer. You report directly to him, and only him, unless and until I command you otherwise.” A poignant pause followed, as the Deeshayer gave Mainak an inscrutable look. “In person.”

“As you command, Your Majesty.”

As expected, she had said Gaia, not just Arunia. But what was unForeseen – since Mainak was not a Manifolder with the gift of Foresight – was that she had effectively told him not to trust any documentation countermanding Jeevanil’s orders.

Now, if only he could figure out who this Jeevanil fellow was. He was not in the command structure of the Rangers. Mainak would have recognized him otherwise. In fact, he doubted Jeevanil was an active Ranger at all. Perhaps he was a distant relation of the Deeshayer, but she was not someone who entrusted missions of vital importance to fawning relatives. That left only one possibility.

He must be one of the handful of Maestros who, though technically still in the Rangers, operate mostly outside of it – in the shadows, like the man Mainak once called father.

As the red rays of Surya, finding a gap in the canopy above, illuminated Jeevanil’s face briefly, before a gust of wind closed the gap again, Mainak shivered.

His dark-golden eyes were ancient, old beyond belief. They held a strange combination of calmness and wisdom that for some reason frightened him.

After studying Mainak for a fraction of a blink, Jeevanil glanced towards the Deeshayer, who nodded. Then, she opened a Portal and vanished, Portalling faster than anyone Mainak had ever seen.

This was turning out to be an exciting, if humbling, day. His own Portalling abilities were mediocre at best, though even that was considered extremely useful, since only about one in ten of all Enfolders could open Portals.

Jeevanil got to his feet in a deceptively graceful manner, and smiled at Mainak, placing his palms together in the traditional aditarun greeting.

“May your Grove grow strong,” he said in a light baritone.

“By the Grace of Om, may our Groves stay strong,” Mainak uttered the phrase ending the ritual greeting, also pressing his palms together.

“I have shielded our conversation against unwitting eavesdropping and possible espionage.”

Indeed, there was a Space Enfolded Shield with a radius of approximately twenty feet around them, another example of either Jeevanil’s Enfolding skills or his own distractions. Mainak grimaced mentally.

“Sir, what are our objectives in Jivanpur?”

Jeevanil smiled, his dark-golden eyes considering, though they too shared the amusement apparent on the rest of his clean-shaven face. “It is refreshing to meet an aditaru who not only professes directness but also practices it. In certain matters, frankness is much more productive than subtlety, although as an experienced Emissary, I am sure you do not lack diplomacy and delicacy. And you can call me Jeevanil, if you prefer. In private.” He paused, seemingly gathering his thoughts. “Primary objective is to locate the Aiminian agents in the University.”

“How many agents do they have there? Do we know?”

Jeevanil shook his head. “Knowing that would have made our task considerably easier.”

“To infiltrate one of only two places in all of Gaia with such large numbers of Clerics,” Mainak said, voicing his confusion aloud. “They must have a very good reason for making such a bold move. Surely there are much easier ways of weakening one’s enemy before a full-scale invasion.”

Jeevanil frowned. “It is possible that BrightHeart wishes to kill or incapacitate the Clerics in the University in order to gain an edge in the oncoming war, or the motive behind the infiltration of the University may be entirely different.”

“Without the edge provided by the Battle Clerics, Healers and Builders, Arunia will have a negligibly small chance of winning the war. But accomplishing that should be extremely difficult in a place where deception is so very hard to maintain.” He considered, thinking back to the Deeshayer’s earlier fears. “By other possible motives, do you mean something to do with the Chamber or Artifact? They’re in Jivanpur?”

Jeevanil’s face turned somber. “Their true motive is not known for certain, although it is quite probable.” He hesitated, looking towards the sky, wrestling with some decision. Then, turning his keen and ancient gaze on Mainak, he said, “To answer your second question, yes there is an Artifact as well as a Chamber somewhere in Jivanpur. Or at least, the key to locating them is.”

“Which Artifact?”

“The Globe of Gravity.”

“We do not have to contend with the corresponding Guardian, do we?” That would definitely spice things up even further.

“We might.”

It seems his days of monotony are well past indeed. In spite of the looming war, potential unomynd threat and all the other disquieting news he had heard thus far, a shadow of a smile flashed across Mainak’s face.

Om has granted him the greatest boon possible.

Tumultuous times are ahead. And those are the best of times to be alive.

“When do we leave?”