Authors Note:

Well , howdy to you all still reading this fiction. Seems its steadily dying....I can't even tell how many people are reading it at all. I'll still post chapters but if this continues I'll probably drop it, or at least slow down releases.

Anyways, Here's another chapter, its shorter than I wanted to but the thing is that the next part should be longer (by a lot) , too long for 1 chapter anyway.

I have a lot of plot and twists in coming Bhuahhahhhaaha

So comment, read, think about the characters (already a few hints given), or just do anything constructive (or supportive :P). *Shamelessly beg for comments*

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The next morning finds the pair standing in front of the tower. Nothing has changed from their last visit, the tower is as dirty as it was before.

A voice greets them kindly,

"The hell are you guys doing over here again? I told you to get lost yesterday. Did you find a couple more clods already?"

Hulm waves a fist in the general source of the voice,

"We were sent by Jackrum you twit, now open up the damn door and let us in. I've just about had enough of your taunting."

Startled, the mage replies,

"J-Jack? Lies! Jack would never deal with folks like you. Bugger off!"

Lethan joins in,

"Your pomade is ‘Youthful Soul’, at least that's what he told us. Can you let us in now?"

A long pause follows as the pair awkwardly stands waiting for a response. A few minutes pass and still nothing. Hulm gives up,

"That's it, I'm going to break down the door this time. Stupid thing won't open huh? We'll see about that."

'Again? That definitely worked last time....' Lethan sighs and steps away from him.

He walks back again and dashes towards the door, only to have it open and make him fall inside. He crashes to the ground heavily, the impact knocking the wind out of him. Between gasps he swears at the mage,

"What.... The ...Hell........You ...Sleezy Krlim..."

"Oops, didn't see you there. Sorry about the business earlier, I thought you were just another pack of hoodlums. "

'Right....' is the first thought that pops into Lethan's mind.

This time at least the apology seems sincere as he helps Hulm up from the ground, or tries to. Hulm trips over the mages legs and goes down again, adding another wave of dust into the air. He slaps the mages hands away,

"Hands off clumsy, I can get up by myself."

Lethan hides a grin and looks at the mage that had opened the door.

Grey whiskers peek out from a pointy hat set askew on the mages head. His robes are a dark blue, or were at some point , stained and frayed slightly at the edges. He has a frizzy beard that stretches from his wizened face for 5 inches or so. The entire figure looks like its about to keel over at any moment, a coat rack which had been placed in a dress-up competition for mages.

The mage waves his hands grandly, nearly falling over,

"I think my name's Lyt, welcome to my humble abode."

They look around and see a large lawn cut apart by marble stairs leading up to the tower. Trash is spread about it, interspersed with weedy bushes that cling faithfully to the steep slope. The stairs themselves didn't seem that walkable, many were in disrepair and quite a few shined with a dangerous tint.

Lethan gains a worried frown,

"Er, this is it?"

Lyt turns around, nearly tripping over his robes again,

"Oh dear, I did it again didn't I. I always say things too early, here just follow me."

He begins to walk alongst the stairs in a lumpy fashion, randomly pausing and seeming to stumble to the side. The pair soon finds out there is a reason for this, a vast majority of those moves were used to avoid the hidden mines. Lethan missteps and hits a twig which throws a miniature fireball, causing a small flood of burning sparks across his robe. He quickly puts it out only to activate another trap which sprays iced water onto Hulm. Unamused, they continue to follow Lyt, this time taking care to follow his steps exactly.

At the entrance to the door Lyt stumbles and slams his head on the wall, an action they repeat uncertainly. At this he looks at them with pitying eyes,

"Why'd you do that? I just tripped and fell. The only dangerous parts were the steps. Sheesh, I thought you knew something."

He begins to chant and touch the door across its sides, bit by bit the glow around it increases until—

"Ah bugger, damn thing changed its key again."

The glow fizzles out and nothing happens.

Lethan smirks,

'And here we were thinking you knew something'

"So, what are we going to do now? "

Lyt turns around and shrugs,

"This place is as good as any. Well? What did you want to talk about?"

"We were wondering if you could tell us where the artificer is and how to get to him."

Lyt stares at them for a moment,

"Well, I used to work at the palace until a couple of months ago. I think I have a key somewhere to one of the back doors, an old servants entrance that will get you to the kitchens. Beyond that it would be all up to you."

"What do you mean up to us?"

Lyt's stare continues for a couple of moments,

"To get to the artificer of course! He's in the laboratory nearby the kitchen, you can't miss it."

Hulm asks,

"Well then where's the key?"

"Er, I think it's somewhere inside. Anyways, I'm not giving it to you for free, you have to go and get me um..."

"What now?"

"The hermit’s whiskey! That's what you need to get, go there and bring me the Hermit's whiskey and then I will give you the key."

Lethan sighs,

"Ok I guess. Well let's be going back—"

"No need for that, off you go!"

Lyt kicks the wall violently, and then all three of them end up right outside the walls.

"Drat, didn't think the spell would get me as well. Ah, whatever. You go get me the drink and I'll be off."

Hulm’s fists clench in anger,

' Of all the damndest things, to go play delivery boy to a cracked up mage.'

Lethan waves an arm as he begins to leave,

"Come along Hulm, we have a ways to go. If I remember correctly he's in the forest somewhere in a small cabin, shouldn't be too hard to find him. I mean, just how big can the forest be?"

With a final glare at the mage Hulm turns around and follows Lethan.

Lyt carefully watches them as they go into the distance and then begins to walk, his path taking him nowhere near the tower.

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A few hours later, in the secretive depths of a room stands a man with a face in the shadows. He talks to the empty room,

"They're coming too close to the Artificer. It would be quite a fortunate occurrence if they were to suddenly cease their journey. It would in fact, be a god blessed action, all the signs point to this. They're heading towards the hermit's cabin, I pity those who have god's wrath upon them."

A shadow manifests for a moment, icy blue eyes peering from its face. It bows slowly and vanishes again into the darkness.

The man turns again and sits at the table, stiffly examining the contents of the papers strewn across the desk. A weak lamplight shines upon them, revealing a single name on the document that he holds. Cerceros.

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Deep in the Krell woods near Aclyth a pair of travelers were moving rapidly, in circles.

"For the last time Hulm, no , I didn't know that we had been there before. Now I know but your damned squabbling doesn't make it any better."

"What do you mean by that? I told you to go right didn't I ? But nooooooo you just had to go left didn't you. Get it through your thick skull that when it comes to tracking I'm far more skilled than you."

"Is that all you can think about right now? Well then, get us out of this mess. Well? Something wrong O master of the forests? Where are we and where do we go!"

"You little pipsqueak, I've walked more forests than you've read books. There's something wrong here, nothing adds up and—"

A voice peeps out from the trees,

"Howdy fellahs, something wrong?"

They turn to look at the source only to see a raggedy old man carrying a small bundle of sticks.

"You—"

"Ah, allow me to introduce myself,"

He bows with a little flourish,

"The names Father Bloom, pleased to meetcha. What are you boys doing here? Last time I saw you was at the inn."

Lethan calms down,

"Hello Father, we were actually looking for you but we got lost."

Hulm mumbles under his breath,

" Correction, you got lost."

"Ah , well then is there anything else?"

"Well, I was wondering if you could lend us some of your whiskey. We need it to give to a mage called Lyt , to get a key, to get to an Artificer whose help we sorely need."

"That's fine, you did buy me a couple of drinks and listen to an old man's stories. I was going to my cabin anyway."

Father Bloom turns and walks off, quietly rustling through the bushes. After a brief hesitation, they don't know what to expect inside, they follow him into the undergrowth.

Another hour or so later they arrive at his cabin. It's made out of a large amount of fine-cut wood expertly created by a master craftsman. The wide windows sport colorful arrangements of figures in their many godly poses. It is closer to a church than a cabin, differentiated merely by their size and material. Father Bloom motions them inside , which is even more astounding.

The Father goes and unpacks his bundle of twigs, storing them carefully aside the fireplace. He then turns to a massive distillery occupying nearly the entirety of the cabin. Beakers and flasks bubble with viscous liquids of all colors, the hearth gently propelling steam through an intricate array of tubes that lead to the flasks. Amidst it all the hermit goes here and there, twiddling this knob or fidgeting that beaker a smidgen to the right, a blur amidst the equipment.

Lethan scoots to the edge of the wall along with Hulm,

"Excuse us Father, but what should we do right now? We don't want to get in the way."

The motions stop for a second,

"How about ya give me a little hand here. Pass me the berries on that table wouldja?"

Lethan gives him a small bowl of the berries that are colored a violent green. They are applied with gusto onto seemingly random beakers. Satisfied, the hermit asks again.

"Now how about some of that, er, watchamacallit, Derwood?"

Lethan gives him another bowl while wincing at the strong smell of peat. The Hermit doesn't notice this and just throws it in a barrel at one side of the room, from which even more tubes led to random places. One of them even went through the roof for some unknown reason, carrying a yellow substance that comes down a deep purple.

"Ok, seems to be going well. Now hand me the Aspyraphyrilyxripotumium powder."

Hulm,'The what???'

Lethan takes this bowl carefully with the slow movements of one performing a very painful procedure with a scalpel. The powder inside is so fine that it flows around in the center, its colors everchanging in the light as it tinkles. To Lethans horror,the hermit takes a little bit and tastes it with his tongue, releasing a puckered frown,

"Egh, not that fresh. Ah well, it'll do for now."

He dumps the entire contents forcefully into a tiny crystalline beaker, swirls it around, and throws it into the fire.  Lethan meanwhile dives behind the nearest cover, in this case Hulm.

"What the—"

"Just duck !"

*Tinkle*

A moment passes, the hermit frowns and steps towards the fire as—

*BOOM*

The massive explosion clears to reveal the scorched hermit in even more raggedy clothes.

"I told you the darn thing was stale, time was I could get decent material in the old days.  Bah, if it had been fresh I wouldn't be standing and it would have gone up faster. Stupid novice artificers crafting this third-rate material, I wish the old one was still around. Now those were the days....."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Lethan interrupts his reverie,

"What were you thinking doing that! It could have blown us to pieces just from a pinch, and you threw a whole bowl into the fire. What do you even need it for?"

"For the whiskey of course."

"You mean you put Derwood into whiskey? and the Brillion berries? A drop of that would kill a man and the amount you have here is more than enough for a city!"

Hulm meanwhile, 'How the hell does he know all of this? Did he try this or something....'

"Not from the steam it won't, look see?"

A brilliant colored steam is slowly moving up the pipes, landing amongst many of the liquids and vastly changing their substance. Some of them become colored gases while others start to crystallize into floating gems, all of them moving upwards the tubes into a giant barrel that the hermit had just placed.

After a minute or so the giant swirling mass had forms into a viscous liquid, or solid, or something anyways. It coalesces at the bottom of the barrel, shaking from unseen forces. The hermit turns to Hulm,

"You there, go make yourself useful. Pick up the largest boulder you can from outside and bring it to me. Meanwhile, " He turns to Lethan,

"Give me extract of Wrytroot and some Polmurion Gabble, I'll need those tightly rolled up together."

With shaking fingers Lethan complies as Hulm goes and gathers a large and mossy stone from the back. With a grunt he walks into the cabin with it, as he is about to place it down the hermit quickly says,

"Not there! put it onto the barrel. I need to press the extract out. Oh wait, give me a second,"

He takes the offered and rolled up Wrytroot, lighting it up from the hearth. He casually smokes it for a bit,

"Ah, that's the stuff."

Lethan '....I give up, he's either mad or invincible, nobody else would do this.'

Giving the roll a longing glance the Hermit throws it into the barrel and signals for Hulm to let go of his load. He grunts and drops it onto the barrel, with a sickly plop it hits the liquid.  He looks at the Hermit,

"What in the world was that stone for? To press down on the substance?"

"Naw, it's to give us a little breathing room before it eats through the wood. You see it tends to select the more nutritious stuff first and you can't find anything better for that then a rock. Thing is,"

A loud sizzling begins to be heard,

"Now it's just a matter of luck, whether the substance cools down fast enough or the rock gets eaten up along with the wood."

He walks over and squints into a beaker nearby, already filled with a dense black liquid. A small patch of nothing was spreading from the nozzle that lead to the barrel and into the beaker, making the black liquid run over into a side bowl.

"Hm, seems to be progressing well enough. A tad to weak though, lemme give it a boost."

He turns and grabs a small and dullen stone,

"Hey, where's the Styllium?"

Lethan hands him a small piece of a chalky material,

"Thanks! Ok now lets do this right."

Father Bloom dons a pair of heavy smithing gloves, and approaches the barrel. He places the two stones together on top of the mossy boulder and rubs them furiously. After a while a miniature sun was emitting heat from between the two gloves, turning the boulder into a red hot mass of molten rock.

"Okeydokey, since we got it going so well, mind getting me a rod of copper or something?"

Once again Lethan hands him the asked for material only to hear the sizzling increase manyfold. He shouts to be heard over it,

"What are you doing , are you mad or something? You told us to wait for it to cool!"

"When did I say that? I just said its a matter of luck, and I don't believe in luck my man. I prefer to know the odds with certainty"

"It's certain that it's going to blow!"

"Naw, it's only slightly steaming. Anyways, that's what the rod of copper is for, it should help. I think."

"What do you mean you think?"

The hermit steps towards the barrel and slams the rod down into the mess.

"I haven't done this before!"

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Alyth shook under a tremendous blow, people falling and packages tumbling all about. What was this they cried, what has happened? Those few with mage powers only confused them even more,

"Well it sounded like the way nothing would feel."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"I don't know, it just did. Then there was a brief glimpse of loud."

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Seven layers of magical spells, locks, and enchantments about it. Seven seals crafted at the price of blood to prevent the creature from ever seeing the light of day again. A pulse rings out, a tone whispering on ethereal pathways. Six seals are left, the seventh gone and broken, its marble sigil losing its glow and dark cracks forming about it. Six seals seals crafted with the strength of many, created to prevent the creature from escaping and devouring. Six layers of magical spells, locks, and enchantments about a deadly darkness. Inside the seals, the darkness stirs.

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Hulm awakes to the sound of some vigorous slapping. The hermit is trying to get Lethan back up, and after a few more slaps he finally does it. Hulm gets up unsteadily,

"For the fortieth time, what the hell was that?"

"Ah, minor side effect. It should pass soon, I plan on getting rid of it the next time I do it. Besides, it isn't perfect yet anyway."

"What isn't?"

The hermit just points to a multitude of droplets floating above the barrel, unmoving.  He grins,

"Try to move one of those and you'll see"

Hulm squints suspiciously at one of the grey spheroids and pulls on it. Nothing, he pulls on it again, still nothing. With a massive jerk he succeeds in nearly ripping his arm out of its socket and moving the sphere a centimeter or so.

"What......."

The hermit walks over and moves it casually with no excessive force. Hulm just stares at him,

"What kind of trick is this?"

Father Bloom sidles up to him and whispers,

"Magic silly"

Lethan meanwhile has gotten up and viewed the orbs for himself, twiddling with them and moving them about.

"It seems to be some sort of paradoxical phenomena, something that affects what's here but cannot be affected. Is it on another plane? If so how does magic even affect it?"

Hulm yells out,

"Will someone please clue me in on this, I have no idea what we just did or made. If someone doesn't fess up soon I'm going to leave before I get sucked into anymore of this madness."

The two mages sheepishly look at him, and Lethan tries to speak,

"Well uhm, its obviously here and we can be touched by it but we cannot touch it in return. Pretend its a type of one-way glass, and you're standing on the other side."

Father Bloom jumps in,

"Exactly like that, only not even close. There's no actual way to describe it, because technically it can't exist, so it doesn't. But it does due to a magical influence. While it kind of breaks these planes rules it doesn't matter, since it isn't here at all really. Better?"

Hulm shakes his head in confusion,

"I give up, none of this is going to make sense anytime soon."

Lethan tries again,

"Ok, think about it like this. You have three-dimensional cube floating in midair, inside is a bunch of water. Ok?"

"Er...ok?"

"Now pretend you invert the cube inside out, what's inside now?"

"Nothing?"

"No, there was something outside the cube, wasn't there? Now its inside, you may not sense or see it but it is there. That's basically what this material is, a sort of inside-out mana pool. Does this help?"

"Nope..."

Lethan gives up and asks the Hermit,

"Why did we make this anyway, and what do you mean incomplete?"

The Hermit turns and begins gathering up the spheroids, speaking as he does so.

"Well, to begin with it's just a simple trick I found in some old books. A man called Ahimedez said 'Give me a stable point and I shall turn the world'. Inside he had described some various formulae which I decided to try out. It ended up being a stable fulcrum onto which you could technically move anything. It's incomplete in that it is still affected by non-mana interactions, if it was finished no force on earth would be able to move it without magic."

He looks at them, done with his gathering.

"People have done this before you know, usually in the form of some so-called impenetrable armor that was glazed with this stuff. The thing is that it's relatively mana-less on the Magics plane or realm or whatever you want to call it. That means that even a smidgen of magic can move it as easily as cotton fluff. I'm using it for a different purpose, it can contain some very violent substances on this plane without harm, the perfect testing chamber."

He lets out a wicked grin at which the pair shudders , thinking of what other experiments he might have up his sleeve.

"The thing is , I never did it up to this scale before. Usually I just let it cool down and then all I get is some mildly heavy liquid but this time I decided to do it since you got me such big stone anyways. It bought me enough time to put down the copper rod even though it was burning, with some spectacular results. As to why we did this, asides from dramatically advancing known magic, the byproduct is the pure alcohol over there."

He points to the flask, which by now has a thin layer of the black substance enclosing a solid layer of....nothing.

"That's the alcohol, the black stuff is some sticky gum I made to prevent it from escaping. It will condense in a minute or so, so don't worry about bringing some back to the mage. He was always asking for this stuff since he heard of it, eagre to get his hands for some of his own experiments no doubt. By the way, its not really alcohol, its more like the pure essence of it. Good stuff, just try not to drink more than a cupful or so a day,a million percent does some wonderfully painful hangovers."

He said the last part with a nostalgic wince. A slow pitter patter on the roof brings them from their shock.

"Ah, its raining....."

The hermit shrugs,

"It usually does that after one of these experiments, probably some of the mana overflow charged the surrounding water and made it condense. The rain usually goes away after a while, but then again I've never done it to this extent. So, watcha say I make us a meal and we talk about something. Say , do any of you know some good stories?"

He looks at them hopefully, and sighs when they refute this.

"I can always treat you to some anyways, the least I can do for helping me with this. So, lets get dinner started shall we?"

They back off fearfully, expecting even worse to come.

"Aw come on, it wasn't that bad. I'm not doing anymore of that stuff, it's just broiled duck and potatoes."

They relax prematurely.

"Or at least it would be, if I can get the duck to solidify again."

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After a frightening experience that both promised to never, ever, mention again, the meal was done and sitting like a normal cooked duck should. With normal potatoes and everything, no longer dancing about in multiple colors and swearing "Mata el pato!". They eat it silently until the Hermit breaks the silence.

"Have you ever heard of the old days of Aclyth? The days when men were fine and pure of soul, even though a bit simple at times. Back in those days the kingdom was whole and untarnished, the epitome of culture and growth. Or at least it seemed that way. Few technologies were progressing, even the drink was getting watered down....."

"What?"

"Oh nothing , sorry. Anyways, in those days they worshipped one god and his name was Cercos. This was due to some myths and legends regarding the starting of the kingdom, legends which many still believe to be true. Once upon a time in the Krell forest, when it was far larger, lay a man waiting to die....."