As he expected, his spire was empty. Isolated from the rest of the world, abandoned to rot just like him.
As he walked these infinite crystalline halls that defied every notion of reality, his very passage wiped the dust off every corner. The architecture, attuned to his existence - renewed, overflowing with power.
The peak overlooked a mystifying and relaxing view. An enormous, circular body of water, hundreds of kilometres wide was all that stood around the glimmering, pearlescent tower. A familiar spot protruding off the edge of the aery was where he chose to remain to meditate on the recent events.
He didn't sit. He threw himself at the floor, mentally exhausted, finding it hard to justify his existence, not to speak of continuing with his plans- they'd been broken, and he had not the strength nor the intelligence to come up with anything better.
If only he could enlist the aid of someone who had what he lacked.
His eyes grew wide as the questioning of his strength became resolve. He lifted himself off the ground in a hurry, looking off to the horizon, eyes shining with the spark of hope. A devilish smile took over his expression as he turned his body towards the inside of the crystalline structure he called his home, pointing a grasping hand at it.
He knew what he needed and where it had previously stood. Three crystalline clusters flung across the air inside the halls, following a path that led to the peak, where Morgen stood in waiting. Upon reaching their intended destination, the clusters affixed themselves to three sockets that lay on the ground, part of an intricate geometrical pattern built for a specific purpose. This was that purpose.
Turning around towards the infinite expanse of water, he performed very delicate and gentle movements that resembled a dance. The clouds above began to darken and rumble, and soon lightning rumbled across the evening sky, lighting up his figure. Odd creatures stared from below, just beneath the surface of the water, mesmerized by what little they could see from such a distance. Morgen's figure seemed from afar ten times greater than his actual body, an illusion cast by a mixture of magic and lightwork.
His dance brought the thundering clouds ever closer to him as he seemed to pull gently at them with his small hands. In time, his dance brought him to point out a hand outwards and above, as if reaching for a giving hand. And give it did - a flash of furious lightning reaching his fingertips quicker than the eyes could see at first, but slowing down to a snail's pace as it touched his skin. The root-like pattern of the lightning bolt remained static in the night sky for several seconds as Morgen closed his eyes in deep focus, his fingers tingling with the sensation of such raw power.
When he opened his eyes again, they glowed with the same bright colour of the streak touching his fingertips before switching to mossy green, unlike his usual tone. He reached out with a false step as if intending to take the storm itself by surprise, clenching his fist around the branch that previously touched his skin, and it reacted as if alive. It flayed around wildly in the evening air like a fish caught at the end of a hook. The man pulled hard on it like a cord. It promptly snapped at the source, recoiling towards him with great aggression and speed, fusing inside his closed fist as a mote of power.
Morgen made his way towards the pattern at the centre of the spire around which the clusters he'd set down lay. But rather than walk, once again he moved forward with what seemed like a dance. The circular motions of his body seemed to hold the lightning's rage at bay, such as was their purpose.
Upon reaching his intended destination at the very middle of the rune inscribed on the ground, the man propelled himself upwards several meters high. He entered the apex of his jump after gracefully performing a backflip, and his stance turned into an aggressive one as he wound up a punch in mid-air and aimed it at the centre of the rune. As his knuckle impacted the ground, the energy bound to his fist recoiled across his entire body, pushing into the floor. It dispersed along the runic pattern, being gobbled up by the clusters.
He lifted from the ground and struck a pose, styling himself after a character he'd seen in one of the programs he accessed the most during his exile. Laughing at himself, he dispelled his silly pose and began to focus on his magic, brandishing his staff as an aid for the powerful spell he was about to perform.
"Back an' forth, we go. A bridge twice crossed, ne'er burned. Eon made instant, the distance erased!" He recited with a dramatic tone as if a line from a poem, emoting with his whole body. The crystalline clusters lifted from the ground and encircled him, hovering ever more quickly in circles.
The smile on his face was broad as an endless dark pit revealed itself under his feet. Once more, dark tendrils extended from the depths and wrapped themselves around his body, dragging him down, the crystalline clusters following his form as if a part of it.
The void spat him out seemingly only a moment later, just outside the frozen bunker he'd once called home. He barely had time to enjoy the delightful action spellcasting to this extent was to one such as he, before being reminded why he hated this place. This time he was much better prepared, however, and the cold did nought but make him shiver the once.
He stepped into the bunker with a devilish smile, the crystals still surrounding his body, however immaterial, and appearing as nothing but distortions that refracted the light around them. He powered on all devices in the bunker at once by raising his hand and snapping two fingers together. Even the computer terminal was enabled, one essential program already running. Morgen didn't make his way to it, however, instead heading for what would seem to most like a scrap pile, just laying on the corner.
From it, he eventually unearthed a device that looked like a peculiar shoulder-pad attached to a backpack. While he searched, a sweet voice chimed in from the computer: "Why are you here?" It inquired. He answered only upon approaching the terminal with the gadget in hand, and he did so with a giddy tone: "I came back for you, but of course. Why else?"
She seemed flustered at the very thought of it. "So... You made it? It actually worked?" She asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer from his appearance and demeanour.
He didn't reply, choosing instead to continue working on his plan. His time was limited, and he wouldn't waste both of theirs by answering something they both already knew the answer to. He hooked up the gadget to a few ports in the machine that housed the entity known as Clara, and a large door materialized at a corner of one of the monitors she inhabited. Things around her seemed to be sucked into and fade into said door, and she glanced at it with a large smiled and a pleased expression. "Did you figure it out?" She probed once more.
Morgen's expression seemed to darken considerably at her query. He couldn't help but keep his silence, mouth held slightly agape, and she seemed to understand. "That bad, huh? I guess you're just helpless without me." She attempted to lighten the mood. It worked, as he snickered at the comment and gazed at her digital form one last time.
"If only I could have taken you with me before..." He replied with hurt in his voice. She hushed him before he could go on and smiled at him before heading into the door at the corner monitor. The door shut itself behind her, all monitors going dark shortly afterwards.
He unplugged the device from the computer and retracted the cables back into the bulk of the gadget itself. Backing away from the computer, he set the device down on the ground and kneeling beside it, reached for one of the crystals that surrounded him. It made itself material once more, and with both hands, he made a motion to pull it apart, causing it to become malleable akin to clay. He moulded it with his hands around the metallic, shoulder-mounted part of the device and the material melded with the metal, changing its composition.
Done with this part of his work, he strapped the device onto himself. It had some bulk but was made much lighter by whatever it was the man had applied to it with his magic, and the machine began to mould itself to the man's body, becoming like a piece of crystalline armour that covered his left shoulder and protected his back. A few seconds later, a small circular opening appeared on the shoulder-pad and from it protruded a small spheric device, connected to the insides of the more significant gadget through a winding wire.
The sphere at the end of the wire opened one of its sides, revealing a lens with a violet light emanating from it. "It's... Much better than I thought it'd be." A voice chimed in from the sphere. It was Clara's.
"I told you I could get it done. Our combined knowledge is worth more than either of us are capable of grasping at first instance, my dear."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The small sphere came in close to his face, and he recoiled slightly, not quite used to its motions yet. It slowed down before touching his cheek softly, pushing his rotund features up. "I can touch you now." She said, her voice resounding with enjoyment.
He seemed caught off guard by this, shedding a tear a few seconds later as he processed these happenings and more. "I-I'm sorry, did I upset you?" She asked, unsure what to make of this.
"Not at all. Thank you, Clara." He wiped his tears away. "Shall we get going? There's much I require your help with, if you wouldn't mind."
The spheric device bobbed up and down quickly. Morgen made his way outside the bunker, staff in hand. Being clear of any debris around him, he began to spin his cane with great skill. The crystals that surrounded him made themselves tangible again, and he struck both of them in turn, shattering them and letting loose a mist which coalesced around the tip of Morgen's staff. "The door unclosed shall be a path once more!" He touched the crystalline tip of his rod to the ground beneath him, and the gaping maw of the void showed itself anew. The familiar ritual proceeded as usual, and this time nought else would return to visit this frigid plane ever again.
As Clara gazed upon the tourmaline-coloured waters of the Boundless Lake for the first time, she gasped in awe. It was far different from anything native to her world. "What could possibly make it such a colour?" She asked, and he promptly explained it was an effect of an amphibious plant indigenous to the region, one that would be considered a weed due to its widespread presence if not for its undeniable beauty.
"I suppose I forgot to tell you about the lake's colour. Of all that I've taught you of it, it never occurred to me that the colour would be peculiar to you."
They chatted for hours about silly subjects as he sat at the edge of his tower, both forgetting the troubles they had ahead of them, but never how much they'd enjoyed each other's company. Much was discussed in the following days about the issues at hand, but they weren't the kind to waste good moments.
In time, he also taught Clara how to manipulate the crystalline matter which she now occupied - to some extent. Much was possible with a combination of the arcane nature of his world, and the logical computations of hers, given much of it was somehow similar. While she was able to act as an extension of his armour, it was also possible to transform the device into several shapes that didn't rely on his presence - such as a hovering orb that followed him without putting weight upon his body.
They hatched myriad plans towards one particular goal. Many of these plans would certainly never come to fruition, but instead would be contingencies for every possible situation. Morgen's new understanding of his predicament and his world's begged for designs without room for error. "As cruel and terrible as need be." He told himself and Clara, knowing full well what it meant.
"Embrace the darkness. Revel in it."
Readiness was of the essence, and Morgen left the seeds of his plan laid in every corner of the planet. Two months and several conflicts were the basis upon which he grew stronger and better prepared.
The Boundless Lake being the last intended step on the journey he set out for the future, he prepared a ritual that involved his tower, much to the dismay of the Tali. Their sentries had alerted Chroma's military might of the mage's return but had chosen not to take action against him for the time being. Instead, more sentries were posted on patrols in the immediate premises around the tower, watching for any suspicious activity. Much like the past eight years, they remained reluctant to interact with the tower, fearing traps and other dangerous machinations left behind.
Not that it stopped some intrepid adventurers from trying to venture inside in search of loot in the past. The few that came back didn't do so unharmed. Nothing was ever removed from the tower in all those years. The pilgrimages had ceased. It would never be of use again if not for the recent developments.
When Morgen departed the tower with his companion in tow, he also brought with himself quite a few materials and supplies, stowed away in his backpack which seemed to hold much within it much more than its size would allow.
In the southern reaches of the mainland, the Eternal Empire of Evermore was his first goal. He crossed pathways both ancient and new, magical and ordinary. While most would take months to reach across the vast expanses of water which separated the mainland and the isles of the western sea, he made the trip in mere hours. With means such as his, even the insurmountable walls that divided Evermore from the north half of the continent were no obstacle for him.
His objectives lay first within the marshes and forests around Madain Nym. Teeming with life, these lands were forever shrouded in a mist that made travel for those unfamiliar with the area a perilous endeavour, to say the least.
From there, he headed to the capital which stood further south, another region that had a permanent weather feature to it: eternal darkness. The clouds above and for broad stretches around Bruska were pitch-black, refusing to disperse at any time of year. At the capital, he felt very clearly as if the architecture wasn't the only eerie feature of the city. There was an undeniable aura surrounding all the settlements he'd come across so far, and he had a sneaking suspicion that this was to be a commonality wherever he'd roam.
It rained heavily as it habitually did at nighttime - virtually indistinguishable from day by those not native to the area. The citizens here still wandered around with umbrellas and heavy overcoats, unburdened by the damp weather or even the mud they carried around at their feet. Morgen left this grim place as quickly as he came to it, the types of stones used for construction in this region of the world causing him a great deal of discomfort for a reason he was unable to discern. Mayhaps the tight spaces and imposing verticality just weren't for him, he mused.
His next stop was the secluded mountain of Agarthani in the western sea, surrounded at all sides by water as far as the eye could see. The sight of this vast mountain that pierced the heavens was enough to bring even Morgen to gaze in awe still. He made his way inside with stealth and speed, knowing his ilk weren't welcome in any of the cities inside. When he came across a large pile of corpses burning close to the tower of Foundation, he knew the situation here was no different than he'd been taught by experience to expect. Even they weren't immune to the madness.
Everything going as he intended, his last stop was his place of birth.
A sigh of relief was had upon the realization Cran'Tal hadn't been as widely affected. The country of Norüman hadn't been a place he called home in over two decades. Still, the very sight of the gargantuan bones of the Alphalodon brought him a sense of familiarity and comfort. Far more than he deserved.
Here, he spent more time merely lingering than he'd naturally afford himself given the situation. The cold here was as he preferred it, and although it reminded him slightly of his exile, it didn't bring him a fraction of the pain past severe weather did. Or maybe he'd only grown accustomed. It didn't matter.
He travelled incognito, wandering the winding streets of Cran'Tal while absorbing information and basking in the company of his kin. For many knew his visage, he kept it hidden, and his magical aura concealed. Even then, wandering as such was a danger. One he promised himself not to succumb to. He was merely lucky that it wasn't the case.
The stakes were high when he dared attend a ritual night gathering in the square that stood in front of the Daguerreo. His heart convinced his mind it was a calculated risk - that listening to the Shepherd's words would serve as further conviction that his was the right path.
As he observed the gathering from a distance he deemed safe enough, Morgen mused as even years later and far more wise, still he couldn't discern the Shepherd's gender. And as he had in years past, he resigned to the absolute truth that it didn't matter. It was pointless curiosity, and one better suited for small minds. As the city's long-standing paragon spoke on the subjects of purpose and love, the mage listened on intently.
"... Are we not all one and the same? Are we all not deserving of love and happiness? And eager to receive it? It then falls to each of us to look upon others with the knowing eyes of compassion. That we might learn, and spread the knowledge that regardless of one's past or present, we all have a purpose in life. And, regardless of means, the end result of that purpose is love."
The crowd cheered. Nepenthe, hume, agarthi and tali alike shed tears that spoke of deep, existential pain. The subject-matter of the Shepherd's speech was unlike what it had been in ages past. While they had served as a leader for all who came to live under their protection, this had been the first time Morgen had seen such a profoundly human subject discussed here. More often, the symposiums held lectures of the nature of magic and the universe. This didn't entirely surprise Morgen, however, as he now saw how closely such subjects were linked.
When the crowd began to disperse after a warm farewell from the city's beloved orator, Morgen noticed a painfully familiar figure approach the Shepherd. Although their features were obscured by loose-fitting garments and a hood, he knew only one who gave off such an aura. It seemed different, but not entirely. The man's heart raced, such as he could feel his temples shudder with every beat. The Shepherd also seemed distressed by the person who addressed him, although his reaction was much more negative in nature when compared to Morgen's.
The mage blended in with the crowd as to avoid being spotted leaving the scene. Even concealing his identity in such a manner, however, was not enough for one who knew him as well as she did. After delivering a veiled threat to the great speaker, the hooded figure stalked Morgen in the night.
Realizing this pursuit, however, the mage retreated to the outskirts posthaste. When out of sight of prying eyes, he utilized his magic to put a great deal of distance between himself and his hunter. Morgen's business here was already done, and he'd obtained all the information he required.
Going due south, he made a nest for himself in the forests around Lindblum, hatching the first leg of his plan.
He'd be the bait, and the lady of spears was to be his pursuer.
Weeks later, after they'd both been wounded in their battle on the outskirts of Lindblum, Morgen fled due south towards Evermore, leaving ample magical trace of his path for his would-be chaser to follow. Hopefully, she'd attained even more of the stalwart resolve that would be required to hunt him down. He was optimistic of this, telling himself and Clara tales of his mighty exploits as his plan had gone exactly as he intended thus far.