The memory fragment faded away just as quickly as it had appeared. Parts of it Dallion had already seen within the memory of someone else—the rogue mage he had fought back while pursuing the poison plague sword. That was only the tip of the iceberg, though.
During the single moment his body surged with new magical power, Dallion had done something that was supposed to be impossible: experience a memory of an archmage. Clearly, there were some sort of ties between the magic and empathy traits no one had told him about.
Part of the ground emerged, revealed by the clearing blackness. It was the same hole that had been created by the vortex. By standard logic, it wasn’t supposed to be here; yet Dallion absorbing the vortex had added a few traces of permanence to the temporary gleam. The real destruction would follow later when the real vortex emerged, but even now a few scars would be left.
Slowly, the aura sword Dallion was holding began to move. With time progressively returning to normal, so was the ability for his mind to control his body at adequate speed. The effects of the boost were coming to an end; rather, it was more appropriate to say that his body was getting used to being in sync with his brain.
Dozens of new protective spheres appeared, teleporting instantly around everything and everyone of importance to Dallion: Ruby, Adzorg, his gear… instinctively, he also had one ready for Diroh, even though he knew that the fury wasn’t there.
She’s still here, Gen said from Dallion’s domain. The echo hadn’t shared his recent boost, but it was still able to know his thoughts. But confused. She doesn’t remember anything regarding her original being here. All she knows is that Di is hard at work at the Academy, struggling to combine her recent novice knowledge with her innate skills.
Are you sure? Dallion asked mentally.
Ariel checked her with music, Gen replied. And when he was done, so did Harp.
That removed any doubt, but it also brought one serious question: what had caused the echo to act so irrationally. She had been rather quiet, but ultimately, backed the copyette’s story. This wasn’t supposed to have happened, and yet there was no denying it. Assuming that the echo fury wasn’t lying, that left only one possibility: the copyette had somehow managed to manipulate her, which was more than a bit scary.
Well done, dear boy, Adzorg’s echo said. Don’t worry, it takes a while to get used to. Normally, people don’t acquire so much in such a short amount of time. You should be alright soon enough.
Was this the only double vortex you’ve seen? the otherworlder asked.
Definitely not, but the numbers were nowhere as close. If someone is lucky to come upon a five within a two, it’s a monumental occasion. In your case, though. A nine within a six—that’s more than most acquire during their lifetime.
Once time returned to normal, Dallion floated everything back to the ground. The old man had vowed he wouldn’t try to run away, but just to be certain Dallion made him make a second vow.
The giant chasm that had split the dwarven city had diminished to a five-foot hole, forcing the two mages to use the standard way to get back to where it all had started: walking.
The panic that had engulfed the dwarves wasn’t that fast to disappear. Mentally experiencing the shock, many of them kept on running about or checking in disbelief that they were still alive. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. The only positive was that no one was preoccupied with a human making his way into the underground area of the city.
“You really have an illusion,” Dallion said, now clearly noticing the subtle symbols on Adzorg’s clothes. With a bit of concentration, he could even see the effects of the spell—namely, the shape of the dwarf that everyone else saw him as.
“I wouldn’t have gotten far if I wasn’t, dear boy.”
“And you really want to stop the device, not fix it.”
There was a moment of hesitation. Dallion could sense several rings of hostility and fear as he made the observation. For a fraction of a second, the old mage was caught in a state between flight and fight. Soon enough, the intensity of emotions diminished.
“You saw a memory fragment,” he said.
“I thought you’d seen it as well.”
“Your mind was working far too fast for me to witness anything. And let’s not forget that not all memory fragments are shared.” He cleared his throat. “How much did you see?”
“Enough to know who gave you the task.”
Based on the mage’s reaction, it was something he had hoped Dallion wouldn’t have learned. At the same time, it also explained his obsession. Spending all that time gathering the pieces, the deal he had made with the Azure Federation to destroy the Academy, they were all worth the price—to ensure the world’s existence. Still, he could have just explained it all.
Harp, do you trust him? Dallion asked.
No. The reply didn’t delay.
You think he’s lying about the device?
That’s the reason I cannot trust him. Until it’s destroyed, he’ll sacrifice anyone and anything, no matter the circumstances. In order to save the world, he might even break a Moon vow.
“What’s in the statue, anyway? A gear?”
“An energy marble,” he explained. “Something I found in the fallen south. With it I’m just a few more pieces from opening the bridge to the other part of the timepiece.”
After twenty minutes of walking, the dwarf guards actually started doing their jobs. Checks were restored, paths were blocked to the point that even the Order couldn’t get Dallion through. Among other things, the bishop appeared to have vanished without a trace. Guards and clerics were frantically going through the city in an attempt to find him. Even the royal family was concerned. However, Dallion had the feeling they’d never find him. As an alternative, he and Adzorg resorted to the only option available to them: go to one of the empty dwarf taverns and waste a few hours until things calmed down enough for them to return to the trader’s district.
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“Copyettes are really out there,” he said in a low voice as he took a sip of something barely drinkable. The spell he had cast ensured that no one but Adzorg would understand his words.
“That’s the suspicion. Even I don’t know for certain.” The mage looked at his drink, but refused to touch it. “They have appeared here and there. No one can deny that. Some might be tempted to say that there aren’t as many as people claim, but they’re missing the big picture. The ones that people know about are only the failures. As one might say, there might be a whole lot of them living like normal people and it would take a kaleidervisto to prove different.”
That was interesting. Clearly, the artifact’s ability to see echoes wasn’t the only reason they were difficult to find. Everyone in the know wanted to make sure that the people they surrounded themselves with were those who they claimed to be.
“I thought magic saw through that.”
“Dear boy, magic is nothing more than a very sophisticated tool. It can help you achieve wonders as long as you know how to apply it. There are spells for detecting slimes. The Academy is full of them. In theory, if any copyette were to set foot in the Learning Hall or any of the other buildings, the White Eye would know. The problem—” the man pushed his drink away from him—“is that it doesn’t work. Just as there are spells and devices to reveal something, there are ways to make it undetectable. In general, I pride myself as someone who could see the flaw in patterns, but I wasn’t able to catch the copyette that claimed to be Diroh. Not an easy task, I must admit.”
“Right.” There was no way to know whether that was true, or Adzorg was just being nice. “So, what do we do now?”
“We wait till we can get the item we’re searching for, buy it, and then—”
“I mean after that. What happens when you have all the pieces for the device?”
The left part of Adzorg’s mouth curved up in a semi smile.
You know what will happen, Adzorg’s echo said within Dallion’s realm. I’ll open the portal and destroy the device. After that, nothing really matters.
“And the world will be saved,” Dallion couldn’t keep himself from saying. “And after that, everything will be like before.”
“Dear boy, nothing will be like before. Just look around you.”
Given that they were the only people in the tavern, that didn’t mean much. The broader meaning was clear, though. Serious internal conflicts in the empire had brought about a war that encompassed the entire world. Even with the threat of the Star gone, as well as the world’s destruction, there were three established powers striving for supremacy. The stakes were high enough that each of the forces had no choice but to become aggressive lest they be destroyed by their enemies.
While pondering the options, Dallion took a few moments to focus on the small things in his surroundings. The new level of his magic trait had allowed him to notice the small nuances of magic in everyday life. He could see the pattern of the magic threads within the dwarf innkeeper; patterns that made it possible for them to shape metal at touch. If he looked closer, he could almost see enough to try and mimic it through a spell. The result wouldn’t be nearly as effective, but with a bit of effort, and a few tries, he could get the aura sword to slice through metals as if they were made of water.
Turning back to Adzorg, he was just about to make a witty comment when he noticed a slight discrepancy. Beneath the illusion and magic symbols, a single thread of magic emerged from him, moving all the way to Dallion himself. The strange thing was that it didn’t seem like a standard thread, rather it was there but also wasn’t, like a theoretical physics concept.
You have to be kidding, Dallion thought, then entered his realm.
PERSONAL AWAKENING
Reality shifted, taking him into the peaceful domain of his realm. The sun was shining brightly in the middle of the purple sky. A faint freeze tempted Dallion to relax for a bit, possibly putting his worries on pause. Sadly, that would have to wait. There was a very specific reason he had arrived.
Concentrating, Dallion focused his layer vision on the sky. The purple changed from a single color to an endless array of purple threads. That in itself wasn’t new.
Dallion cast a flight spell, then flew up and looked deeper. It took a while, but among the threads, he noticed one that didn’t belong there. It seemed to come from elsewhere, weaving its way through the mesh and moving down.
“Harp,” he said, following the thread. “Get ready.”
No weapons were summoned, no other guardians called. Harp would be enough to deal with this if it came to it. Also, Dallion doubted that Adzorg had attempted a realm invasion.
The thread twisted throughout the entire realm, doing its best to blend in as much as it could. With Dallion’s current abilities, though, it was no longer possible for it to remain unseen. Systematically, he followed it all the way to its final location—the ring library.
A sense of nostalgia passed over Dallion as he entered the small structure. There was a time when he had been impressed beyond measure. Now, the place seemed small, cramped, and the number of scrolls it held was puny in comparison to what he had seen at the Academy.
Adzorg’s echo was sitting in a rocking chair, casually reading from a tome of historic poetry. Back in the day, he had tried getting Dallion to read it and “enhance his culture” yet the otherworlder had never given it a chance.
“Hello, Nil,” Dallion said, stopping five feet away.
“I always knew you had the potential,” the echo said, turning the page. “I guess that’s what happens once you get over eighty in magic.”
“Guess so. You made a few other mistakes.” Dallion went to the nearest shelf and took a random book. “Without the memory fragment, I might not have made the connection.”
“Maybe that would have been better for everyone concerned.”
“Reverse echoes,” Dallion said. “Echoes that aren’t echoes, but your representation in a realm.”
“Similar to what the copyettes could do. I didn’t invent them, but whoever did must have been inspired by that.”
“Why, though?”
“I wanted to keep an eye on you and see you progress. You must admit that I did help now and then.”
“There were other ways.”
“Possibly, but I wanted to have an apprentice again. That’s one of the things. After all this time, I missed teaching otherworlders. Your ability to solve problems, your lack of limitations… there’s so much about you that is fascinating. No two of you are alike. Alien, Leora, Gassil, all had very different skills and approaches. Experience has shown that if I trained you myself, then sooner or later you’d have rejected everything I told you.”
“Yet, if you’d do the same as an echo—a copy of the original, I’d think of you as someone different.” Dallion returned the tome to its place. “And I did.”
“Indeed. I’m curious,” Adzorg looked over his shoulder. “What other mistakes did I make? Or did you just say that to make me feel bad?”
“I,” Dallion replied. “Several times you’d use I when you were supposed to say my original. It wasn’t obvious at first, but now.”
“I. Well, I’d like to say that I’d remember that, but by the looks of things, there’d no longer be any point.”
“Maybe you’re right.” A thought came to Dallion’s mind. “This timepiece you made. How does it deal with the world rejection issue? When I was in the world of furies, it wouldn’t accept me.”
“That’s because you just went there unprepared. The device I made should take care of all side effects and—” he stopped. “You’re planning on returning,” he added after a while. “You want to go back to Earth.”
“Would it be possible?”
“It should be. But there’s every chance it would be a one-way trip. I cannot allow the timepiece to exist.”
“What if there was a way?”