The worst thing about prophecies was that one could never be sure whether they were real or not. Up till now, the archbishop was right about a lot of things, but Dallion would be lying if he didn’t see a few discrepancies as well. Given the vast presence of the Order and their many unbanished copyettes, it was easy to assume that a lot of the information had nothing to do with clairvoyance, but relied on good, solid information. The problem was that the Order excelled in other areas as well.

De-levelling was just one such example. Even high nobles of the imperial capital were incapable of performing the curse, having to rely on clerics to do it for them. If that were the case for curses, who was to say that their prophecies weren’t real?

The ship waiting for Dallion was a small two-masted vessel anchored in a cove on the eastern coast of the continent. Normally, Dallion would consider any travel by sea unreasonably dangerous, but the bishop accompanying him insisted that flying was out of the question. At Dallion’s present level, it didn’t matter much. At the first sign of danger, he could cast a spell and be in the sky before even a lightning bolt could reach him.

“How long will it take us to get there?” Dallion asked, examining the deck of the ship.

Despite the hundreds of item guardians present, not a single one responded to his greetings. Any other time, they would be yelling one over the other just to have a chance to talk to someone with the empathy trait. It seemed that the Order had learned from its previous mistakes and was running a very tight ship.

“Not long,” the bishop replied in the vaguest terms possible. “We just need to make sure that everything is ready for your visit.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

The bishop merely smiled and went to have a few words with the ship’s captain. Meanwhile, Dallion took the time to examine the crew aboard.

Despite wearing common sailor clothes, Dallion could tell that they were experienced battle clerics. All of them, without exception, were level eighty; many had traits even higher. Anyone having the misfortune of attacking the vessel would quickly regret the error of his ways. Yet, even this group alone wouldn’t stand a chance against a water island.

“Are there other guests aboard?” Dallion addressed one of the clerics.

The man looked at him for a few seconds, then went back to scrubbing the deck. If there were any answers to be given, it wouldn’t be by him or anyone else of the crew.

Eury says going there is a bad idea. Veil made his opinion known from Dallion’s realm. I think she’s right.

You were wrong before, Dallion noted. With the emperor against us, it’s not like we have a choice. How’s recruiting?

Slow. The furies have picked up, but they refuse to live in Alliance. Hunters continue to trickle in, but it’s not like there were many of them to begin with.

That was to be expected. All things considered, Dallion expected that all hunters and Mirror Pool members who were interested in joining him had already done so. The furies were a different matter, though with many of them belonging to the empire to begin with, it was unrealistic to expect they would keep flying in forever.

Are you sure you want to rely on the Order? Unease emanated from the overseer. They’ll probably back you, but their help always comes at a price and once they grab hold, they don’t let go.

I know. I learned that lesson in one of my awakening trials.

Well, I saw it in real life. Dharma's become unrecognizable. Technically, after the Order’s generous gift it’s your domain now, but the Order has such a heavy presence they might as well be running the place.

I’ve learned my lesson, Dallion repeated.

The bishop ended his conversation with the captain. Two points of interest were that it had been deliberately kept as quiet as possible to prevent Dallion from listening in, and also was in a language that he had never heard before.

“Everything is set,” the man said. “You’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”

“I thought you’d be coming with me.”

“Only to the ship. I’m not allowed further.”

Even bishops weren’t allowed in the grand citadel? If Dallion didn’t know better, he’d think that the entire concept of the Order was a scam. For such a large and powerful organization, it was curious that its seat of power was kept isolated from everyone, even bishops, by the sound of it.

“By the Seven, may you find the answers you’re looking for.” The bishop bowed slightly, then quickly left.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

As promised, the ship set sail less than a minute later. The crew's hands raised the sails to catch what little wind there was. Dallion offered to cast a spell, but was met with silent resistance. In the past, he would have accepted it as part of life. Right now, though, he was in a hurry.

“I can fly the ship anywhere in the world.” He approached the captain. “Just tell me the direction. It’ll be a lot faster.”

“It won’t,” the large bearded man said, not taking his eyes off the horizon. There was no anger or annoyance emanating from him, just calm and a touch of pity.

“Why are you so sure?”

At the question, the captain glanced sideways at Dallion.

“I know about your skills and your level,” he said. “You’re well over a hundred, with enough magic experience to obliterate armies. But nothing you do will make the ship faster for one simple reason.”

Dallion crossed his arms, eager to hear the explanation.

“We’re not the ones moving it.”

Just as he said that, the world around the ship sped by. For a fraction of a second, Dallion was able to see the thin outlines of a domain. Covering the entire vessel like a thin layer of film, they allowed the owner to transport it, just like any domain ruler would move settlements throughout the wilderness.

You linked the ship to your realm, didn’t you? Dallion thought as he looked at the massive island that had replaced the continental coast. It was stern and majestic, made entirely of white rocks and nearly no vegetation. Waves splashed on chalk white sands, as a pier of white marble extended into the sea.

“Welcome to Ivory Tower,” the captain said. “The path will lead you to the grand citadel.”

“I see. Thanks for the trip, then.” He took a single leap onto the pier. As he did, he could see from the corner of his eyes the ship vanish, pulled away into infinity. For some reason the archbishop wasn’t keen on him leaving.

Welcome, empath visitor, an item guardian greeted Dallion. You are expected. Please continue along the path without using magic.

“What would happen if I do?”

Nothing. It’s just not polite, and you won’t be able to admire the majesty of the island.

“I didn’t come here to sightsee.”

That’s what I said when I came to visit. Life is always full of problems that seem a lot more important, only they aren’t. Spending a few minutes won’t change anything in the grand scheme of things. If they did, coming here at all was already a waste of time.

An interesting concept, and remarkably true. One could almost feel that this was the conclusion of an awakening trial. Of greater concern was that the guardian claimed to have been a visitor at one point.

“You were a visitor?” Dallion looked at the tile.

All guardians on the island were visitors at one point.

“Are you human?”

There was no immediate response.

“You’re human.”

I dedicated myself to the Order and was blessed with the task of protecting it against the void and all that would try to hurt us. You’ve seen the vortex guardians, I’m just like them, just not deemed worthy enough to be among their ranks.

Cold chills ran down Dallion’s spine. The visit was off to a terrible start. He’d only taken one step on the island and already he’d found that the Order had banished humans into the awakened realms of items. It wasn’t just the archbishop’s power that was worrying, but rather the notion that he’d be willing to do it in the first place. If one could argue that the vortex guardians were necessary to keep the world from getting destroyed, what purpose could banishing volunteers to items have? Was that the reason that no one set foot on the island?

Casting a quick spell, Dallion rose a few inches from the ground.

“If the archbishop is what he claims to be, he’d have expected me to be rude,” he said, floating forward.

The path of giant tiles continued through the beach and into the surrounding rocky area. There wasn’t a plant or animal to be seen, only distant sounds and the faint smell of grass and vegetation. To the untrained eye, it would almost seem that the place had been abandoned for centuries; that was, until one paid careful attention to the one thing missing: cracks. Everything from the marble tiles to the massive rocks and mountains was in pristine condition. This couldn’t be achieved by accident. Someone had to have meticulously visited every area and item realm to remove all cracklings in the making.

The path turned, venturing into a rock cave. Even before entering, Dallion could see that its entire walls were covered with light crystals, making it almost appear like a fake plastic prop. Even now, his mind struggled to accept that something so perfect could be real.

Be on guard, Dallion warned the companions and guardians within his realm.

The brightly lit tunnel continued for another two hundred feet, turning and twisting as it went along, until it led to the most extraordinary sight imaginable.

“Holy heck,” Dallion muttered.

There was a time when he had been impressed by emperor Tamin’s garden. What stood before him put all that to shame. Plants of all shapes, sizes, and colors filled the vast space between the circle of mountains. Orange bushes surrounded purple palm trees thirty feet tall, let out a bouquet of fragrances that simultaneously affected the senses and the mood. Dallion was able to see the faint strands of music linked to the pollen.

“Herbology and music,” he said, instinctively shredding the music strands before they reached him. If someone could combine those two skills together, they could easily add something else as well.

A large white structure rose in the distance. Despite its impressive design, it was smaller than many of the cathedrals Dallion had seen. The architecture combined elements of medieval and futuristic elements, creating something that would be at home in art books.

As Dallion made his way to the main entrance, plants moved out of the way, baring the ground below. Possibly it was meant to be welcoming, but it had the exact opposite effect, giving Dallion the feeling that the place rejected his presence.

When he got ten feet away, the ivory white doors opened, allowing someone to step outside. The person appeared in his late teens, slender—almost skinny even—with curly red hair and an almost bronze colored skin. Back on Earth, Dallion would have assumed he came from somewhere in Europe… and in all likelihood, he did. Despite the short robes bearing the emblem of the Order, the pair of modern Earth glasses was a dead giveaway, as was the otherworldy shimmering surrounding the boy.

“Hey, Dal,” the archbishop said. “Nice to finally meet.”