MEMORY FRAGMENT

Mage Academy Research Cloister, 17 years ago

“Is anything wrong, dear boy?” the Adzorg asked. “You’ve been somewhat distracted lately.”

“Just unsure about this,” Gassil replied. “Star schematics… not sure what to expect.”

There was a time when Adzorg thought the boy to be brilliant. Unfortunately, he had turned out to be a disappointment. He had a deep-rooted sense of superiority that poisoned his outlook on the world, but that wasn’t the main issue. Lots of mages suffered from an overabundance of ego. Even Adzorg had been affected latterly, following in the footsteps of his old teacher and gaining a few pounds, among other things.

Gassil’s main problem was that he had taken the easy path, joining Alien’s “Shimmering Circle”.

“Worried about the Order?” Adzorg asked. “I didn’t think you were one of the faithful.”

“Not the Order. The thing you’re making. What if something unintended creeps in?”

“Chainlings? They too follow rules like the rest of us. As I told you, magic is the means to create loopholes. The devices the Star created are objects, nothing more. They won’t spontaneously turn evil. It’s all about how one uses them.”

Gassil nodded in his halfhearted fashion. It was obvious to everyone that the only reason he had been sent to Adzorg’s project was to spy on him. Then again, it didn’t matter. As an otherworlder, the young mage had what Adzorg required—the ability to see what came from Earth. It was a rare quality, and he had done his job well. All that was left was for Adzorg to finish his work.

Leaving the room, the archmage went directly to the inner sanctum.

“Archmage,” a sharp female voice said.

Any other time, Adzorg would have let out a sigh. In his old age, he had grown tired of interruptions, especially by guards. This person was different. She had protected his projects for the last few decades, not to mention she was the third highest leveled captain in the empire.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to have him around,” the captain said. “He’ll cause problems.”

“What can he cause?”

“Why do you insist on finding out?”

Why indeed? Despite everything, Adzorg felt some sort of connection to Gassil. The man was his last otherworlder pupil, before Alien had convinced the emperor to take over their training. It wasn’t terribly important. After all, it allowed Adzorg to focus on his actual interests. Still, there were notes of sadness he felt even now.

“Bah.” The archmage waved his head. “It’ll be fine. If the circle could have done something, they would have intervened already. Besides, in a few minutes, it’ll no longer matter.”

“Sometimes you can be arrogantly overconfident, sir.”

“What else is new?” Adzorg laughed. “Anything else suspicious today?”

“Valerian tried to get to the device alone a few times.”

“He’s a snake, but he’s skilled and obedient.”

The sad truth was that most of the mages assisting Adzorg were the same. The only reason they had agreed to join the project was because they hoped it would benefit them one way or another. Among them, there wasn’t a single one who believed in the work he was doing. They couldn’t see the majesty of his work. At times, Adzorg wasn’t sure anyone did.

“It no longer matters.” The archmage shook his head and continued forward. This time, he was followed by the captain in her full set of armor.

The design appeared to be like that of any imperial legionary, but it had been specially modified by him so as not to interfere with the device. A few moments later, the two were at a massive wooden door. Nothing but bolts held it shut. Right now, they were removed, allowing Adzorg to open it with one brisk action. Once he did, the device he had been working on for so long was before him.

Rumors abounded regarding its shape and appearance. Many in the Academy believed it was as large as the building itself. The truth was that it was barely ten feet in size, containing thousands of gears, segments, and magic crystals, each made from enough rare metals to rival the emperor’s home. A huge clock kept on ticking, though it never showed the time. Adzorg had found that time dilation was one of the factors needed to make the portal possible.

A thin line of chalk surrounded the device, indicating how far anyone could approach. Of course, that didn’t apply to Adzorg. Crossing the line, he took a small marble from his pocket and put it into one of the five empty slots of the device’s dial. The space beneath hummed, causing the air to ripple. The smallest of portals emerged, barely enough for a child to reach into.

Pleased, the archmage placed a second pearl. The portal doubled in size.

“Are you sure you want to do it alone?” The captain asked. “You’ll need help if something goes wrong.”

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“Nothing will go wrong.” Adzorg placed a third piece. “Alien doesn’t have the level and Leora doesn’t have the courage. None of the rest particularly matter.”

A third marble was placed, then a fourth. Upon reaching the last, the archmage stopped. This was the moment of truth. Once that was in, a complete link to Earth—the world of humans—would become reality. Some minor adjustments might be required, but the tunnel would be there. All the technology he had seen in the fallen south, inexplicable devices that defied explanation, people with greater knowledge than the awakened world had seen in eras would become available and their point of contact would be the empire.

“This day will be remembered,” Adzorg said.

No sooner had he spoken than the captain drew her sword, striking for his leg. Instinct took over, causing him to instantly cast a protective spell, while the edge of the blade was fractions away.

The weapon bounced off. Displeased with her failed attempt, the captain quickly leaped back, a second sword bared in her other hand.

There was a moment of confusion. Of all the people he knew, Adzrog never believed he’d be betrayed by her. Then he noticed what he should have before: the person who had attacked him wasn’t the captain he knew.

“Copyette,” he hissed.

Uncovered, the creature removed its illusion. The figure remained that of the captain, only now the threads within her body were glowing in a completely different light.

“To think that the Order would get involved.” Adzorg cast a few quick spells, covering himself with several protective layers of magic threads. “Did you kill her?”

“You know that’s not allowed,” the copyette replied. “Although given what you’ve done, I could well have.”

“I haven’t broken any rules.”

“That’s a matter of interpretation. Clearly, some think that you have and since the emperor isn’t here, he’s decided not to interfere.” The copyette took a step forward. “She’s in this very room. I took advantage of the flaw you placed within her.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Of course you did,” the other laughed. “You showed her kindness when she needed it, creating a bond of loyalty. She saw through me, but even so, fighting someone in your appearance added a grain of doubt that slowed her actions just enough for me to take advantage.”

Adzorg looked at the device. All he needed was to place the last marble for it to function. The copyette must have thought the same, for he cast a protective barrier around the device.

“If you came to destroy the timepiece, you could have done so while I was gone.”

“I never wanted anything,” the copyette replied. “My orders were to deal with you first and only then destroy the device.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently, you’re considered the hand that can operate it. If I destroy it, you’ll just build another and that time I might not be as lucky.”

“Touching of your masters to say so.”

The entire space of the room warped. There was a certain degree of risk using potent spells while the device was active. Facing a copyette was bad enough as it was. Adzorg had heard the rumors like everyone else. Unlike everyone else, though, he knew they were more than rumors. Indeed, there were copyettes in the open, only they weren’t beings that had “escaped” their banishment. Rather, they had been released and leashed to do the bidding of their masters in the Order. Not in a thousand years did he think that any of them would have the courage to send one into the heart of the Academy.

Space twisted, causing the protective barrier around the device to shatter. Unwilling to give Adzorg the advantage, the copyette charged forward with both strikes and spells combined.

Too late, the archmage thought.

The spell he had cast continued with its full effect, grabbing the copyette mid air as if with invisible strands. Flesh changed to slime as the creature made a futile attempt to break free.

“No,” Adzorg said, causing the entity to splat into nothingness.

Quickly, the archmage began his counter spell. The fight had lasted less than a minute, but for everyone else, it had stretched for way longer. The magic had affected the flow of time in the device’s immediate vicinity. There was no telling how much time had passed; and magic leaking through a portal between worlds was never a good idea.

The sound of a loud crack filled the room. To Adzorg’s horror, he was too late.

* * *

Silence. Calm. Serenity. All those were notions that Adzorg hadn’t experienced for so long that he’d forgotten they existed. It was nice experiencing them, yet at the same time, they told him that something wasn’t right.

“You really outdid yourself, my friend,” a powerful voice said, causing the archmage to open his eyes.

The room he was in remained unfamiliar, but he could easily tell by the style and furniture that it was somewhere within the Imperial Palace.

“I almost thought I’d lost you.” The tall figure of the emperor approached.

What am I doing here? Adzorg tried to move, but quickly found out that a mesh of air currents was keeping him down. Only his eyes were free to move about, quickly revealing the four crimson furies that stood at the ready.

“If I’m to believe Alien, half the cloister was destroyed by your little experiment,” the emperor continued. “Of course, he always had the tendency to exaggerate.”

Naturally…

“Nonetheless, I’m confused what went so catastrophically wrong. I’m aware of the Academy’s little internal games, but nothing should have caused this. Having a triple tower vortex in my domain was definitely a first.”

“The Order,” Adzorg managed to say. “They sabotaged it.”

“They did? Didn’t think the Archbishop had the stones. Are you sure?”

“There was a copyette.”

“I see…” The glowing figure of the emperor walked away, moving to a part of the room that Adzorg couldn’t see. “I’ll have to punish you,” he said. “After what happened, I don’t have a choice. Your research will be banned, Valerian will take your place, and you’ll be given to the Order, along with any other survivors, for your punishment.”

It wasn’t lost on Adzorg that the people responsible for the catastrophe were the ones punishing everyone else. Still, that was the way of the world. He had rolled the dice and proved not strong enough to take on the consequences.

“It’s likely they’ll send you to Nerosal.”

“So close to the fallen south? Adzorg asked.

“The Archbishop always lacked imagination. He’ll put you as far away from the Academy as possible, likely keep an eye on you as well. However, I still have a task for you.”

A task? Adzorg instinctively tried to sit up and this time the air threads let him.

“I want you to rebuild your device.”

“Emperor?”

“The effects of the copyette’s meddling might have destroyed what’s here, but there’s still a part beyond this world. I can see it floating in the void just outside the world bubble. In all likelihood, it’ll just remain there for all eternity, completely inert and inactive. Yet, I cannot take the risk. Do you understand?”

Adzorg nodded. Leaving a sword of destruction to hang over the world by a thread was dangerous. Even knowing about it could drive people to insanity. The problem had to be dealt with no matter the difficulties, no matter how long it would take.

“Oh, one last thing,” the emperor said. “I won’t be providing you any help on this task. Still, I’ll make sure you’re not alone on it.”