Threads of magic twisted together, gaining form. Bit by bit, the elements of a room formed—a college dorm room. Beds appeared, then furniture, posters, followed by a strangely familiar mess. Dallion’s sensation of weightlessness slowly vanished, as he found himself standing in this room. Strangely enough, the only thing missing was the door.

At first, he was confused, trying to figure out how he had gotten here as well as where he was. Within a few moments, the mystery was gone, replaced by two options. Either the Moons were messing with his head again, or the vortex was.

“Is this another dream, Felygn?” Dallion asked, making his way to the window.

It was pitch dark outside. The dream clearly hadn’t bothered filling in the room’s surroundings. To his surprise, not even a Moon was visible in the distance.

“Not exactly,” a voice said behind him.

Turning around, Dallion saw a nymph dressed in purple. Notably, there was a firebird on the shoulder—an aether firebird.

“Galatea,” Dallion whispered.

“No hello for me?” the aethebird chirped.

“Aether…” Dallion still wasn’t sure how things stood between them. He couldn’t sense any anger or open hostility, but then again, this was a dream. There was no guarantee any of his powers would work as they should. “Did I mess up?”

“You mess up all the time,” the bird chirped.

“I’m not here for that,” the Moon said in a firm tone. “You have a basic idea of what’s going on, so I can talk to you.”

That’s a first, Dallion thought. Up till now, the Moons treated him as an ignorant fool.

“The device is weakening the barriers between realms,” he stated, probing.

“That’s only half true. It’s not only the device. It’s you as well.”

Normally Dallion would have taken that badly. Right now, he felt absolutely calm, almost as if he expected it.

“Why?” he asked. “Because of the curse?”

“In order to break it, you must become stronger, but in order to become stronger, you must break the curse. A perfect Catch 22, as you’d say. However, as far as magic is concerned, there’s an exception.”

Isn’t there always when magic is concerned?

“I can still read your mind.” The Moon sounded annoyed.

Taking a few steps closer to Dallion, he looked out of the window and snapped his fingers. A purple moon appeared in the darkness, no larger than a coin. The glow coming from it was quite bright, but still couldn’t illuminate anything, giving the impression that the entire dorm was floating in space.

“Use the device to get stronger.”

That wasn’t advice Dallion expected. If anything, the Moons so far had given the impression that they wanted the device destroyed. Since it risked devastating the world, everyone except the star spawn and Adzorg would be of such an opinion. So, why was the Moon of magic being so contrary?

“The archbishop of the order told me differently,” he said cautiously.

“No one wants the void to pour into the world, but that doesn’t stop them from taking advantage. Why not you too?”

“You’re saying absorb as many vortexes as I can?”

“That’s the basic idea. You’ll learn more when you wake up.”

So, this is a dream, Dallion thought.

“When in a vortex, dreams and reality can be both.”

The moment the Moon said that, darkness trickled down the edges of the room. What he had assumed to be a vast void outside gained substance and was now filling the room like mud.

Instantly, Dallion moved his fingers in an attempt to cast a spell, but no threads went out of his tips.

Of course, he managed to think before waves of pain and darkness engulfed him.

A split-second lasted an eternity, during which the conflicting sensations of pain and numbness fought for complete dominance of his being. There was a moment when the void seemed to win, but the pain refused to let go.

“Damn you!” Dallion shouted, jumping up.

The darkness was gone, along with the pain and sense of void. He was sitting on the ground—a ground—in the middle of a constantly shifting landscape. There was a person nearby. Upon seeing him, Dallion burst into dozens of instances, summoning his weapons in many of them.

“Seems he’s alive and well,” Adzorg said with an indignant expression. “Cast a flight spell and let’s continue this in the air.”

Curiosity made Dallion look at the ground as five of his instances were casting that exact spell. The spot he had been was the only non-changing one anywhere to be seen. With his current level of magic, he was able to see the boundaries of the thin circle. From what he could make out, they were some sort of anchoring spell.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

His first thought was that he was in the vortex. The second—to split into a hundred instances more and look around for Diroh.

My original is fine, her echo said from his realm.

Almost the moment she did, Dallion spotted the fury up in the sky. Unlike him and Adzorg, she didn’t seem remotely hurt. It was good to know that she had been lucky for once.

Choosing an instance that had risen in the air, Dallion went on to summon both his main blades. The old mage didn’t seem at all impressed. It was plainly visible that the vortex had done more harm to him than anyone else. There was no trace of the armor he fought with. More importantly, a number of the magic artifacts were broken. No matter how much Dallion focused, he couldn’t see any magic threads within. For all intents and purposes, they were nothing more than lifeless pieces of metal.

“Well, don’t you have anything to say?” Adzorg asked. “After chasing me for so long, I thought you’d at least gloat a little.”

“I didn’t catch you.”

“You might as well have. I was almost convinced that you’d receive help from the Moons to find me, and with such impeccable timing. Not only that, but you brought someone you knew I wouldn’t harm.” He glanced at Diroh.

“You know me,” Dallion replied. Below him, the circle of ground lost its stability, changing like the rest of the terrain. Looking closely, one could see the threads indicating what the next change would be and when it would occur.

“I said almost. With the amount of guck inside of you, there’s no way the Moons would have helped you this much.”

Deep inside, Dallion had to agree. Lately, even when they wanted to help, they didn’t. admitting that wasn’t to his benefit, though. The stronger Adzorg believed him to be, the better.

“I’m part of the circle now,” he said. “I have means at my disposal.”

“You still trust them? Even after everything you’ve seen them do?”

“I don’t trust them.” We’re just taking advantage of each other. “I trust you less. You should have told me about your curse.”

“Ah. I see you’ve had a few words with the Order. They always liked to meddle in anything and everything.” He waved his hand. “For the moment, that doesn’t matter. We’ve got a bigger issue.”

In the distance, chunks of ground tore off, rising to the sky. In an overly simplistic way, it was as if the vortex was attempting to create clouds in some crude fashion.

“The only way to escape the vortex is to consume it,” Adzorg said. “Which means making it all the way there.” He pointed to the distance towards a large purple mountain. Similar to everything else, the mountain too shifted appearance, but its height remained. “And by that, I mean we must fight our way through.”

“You could have escaped,” Dallion said.

“No, I couldn’t. Despite what you think, I didn’t intend to leave Di and you—”

“The vortex,” Dallion clarified. “While I was out, you could have escaped with Di and left me behind. Did she make you stay?”

“Oh, she very well attempted.” The mage crossed his arms. “The point is, dear boy, that even if she hadn’t, I’d have acted in the same way. The sad truth is that I can’t escape the vortex. None of us alone can. Mind you, that’s still not a guarantee that the three of us will manage. I’m hopeful, though.” He glanced at Harp. “You hold just as many surprises as when I met you.”

“And it has nothing to do with gaining a bit of magic on the way?”

There was a long moment of silence, after which the man laughed.

“Your newfound level of cynicism is remarkably healthy. Don’t worry, only you’ll be absorbing any magic.”

The statement was quickly put in the too-good-to-be-true category. Concentrating, Dallion tried to use his music skills to determine whether the old man was lying, but failed to do so. Apparently, not all of his artifacts had been destroyed upon entering the vortex.

“Both my and Diroh’s levels are capped. There’s no going beyond that, even with magic. Artifacts help us ignore that limit, but we can never increase it.” The faintest notes of sadness resonated in his voice. “Having a vortex emerge within a city was unfortunate. If—”

“There’s movement!” Diroh shouted. The fury flew in the direction of Dallion and Adzorg, but no sooner had he done so than the mage raised his hand.

“Stay there!” he ordered.

“It’s too late for that. They’re already—”

“Stay. There.” Each word was said with a firmness that only an archmage could muster. In that moment, Dallion saw Adzorg as the person he was—a true leader of the Academy, not a schemer like his two successors.

Splitting into instances, he glanced in the direction Diroh was referring to. The chunks of land had successfully transformed into something mimicking clouds. Small humanoid-like beings resembling stick-figures made of magic threads formed a small flock, approaching with alarming speed. As they did, chunks of cloud matter amassed on the wireframe, granting it a more lifelike shape.

“Haven’t faced that before.” Dallion noted. “Any idea what they are?”

“The vortex is mimicking us. The first few waves will be easy. The really difficult part follows later, when they’ve gotten a better understanding of us. I trust you’ve kept studying in your free time?”

“I was a bit busy trying to catch you,” Dallion admitted. “Di, how far have you come along?”

“Good enough,” she gave a vague reply.

Knowing her, that probably meant she had become a second rank novice, but nothing more. Once there was a bit of calm, he was definitely going to have a long discussion to learn why she had left the Learning Hall, not to mention how she’d managed to reach Adzorg faster than him. For the moment, he had to rely on the old man’s wisdom and his own strength, and the fury’s support to avoid consumption.

“Di, you deal with the defense of the group,” he said. “I’ll handle the attacks. We’re in a realm, so we’ll be able to see each other’s markers.”

“And I, dear boy?” Adzorg asked.

“Focus on the strategy. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“It might take a bit too long for you to understand.”

As he said that, a thin layer of water formed on Dallion’s harpsisword. Seeing it, Adzorg casually floated a few feet further away.

“I believe that with effort I could think up something that would be possible for you to perform. Remember, we’re just an irritant, not their main enemy, so don’t go all out.”

“I figured that out a while back.” Dallion waved his aether sword, casting several dozen spells that temporarily increased the traits of everyone present. “When do you make a break for the mountain?”

“Kill off the wave first. We’re on the same side, so the vortex will take some time to devise a different solution. During that moment of calm, we go. I’ll keep an eye on Di. You, just be ready for anything.”

“I can keep an eye on myself,” the fury said in a sharp tone.

“Not here, you can’t,” Adzorg snapped back, just like Nil used to back when Dallion was learning what it was like being awakened. Some things never changed. “Keep close, observe, and try to pick up a few things.”

Diroh glanced at Dallion for support.

Don’t look at me. His echo did the same to me for centuries. “Stay close for now. And focus on protecting you and the old man most of all. Right now, I’m of lesser priority.”