“Are we ready to begin?” Orlan asked, striding confidently into the massive heart chamber of his castle. A circle of men and women in long robes stood around the Anchorheart that hovered in the middle of the room, a single test ring of mana flowing around above their heads.
“We should be, Protector Lord,” the oldest man present answered from his spot in the ring, “did the seers verify the rift is large enough?”
“They did,” Orlan nodded, motioning the mages who’d been seated along the wall of the round chamber to rise. They were there to take over for any of the head mages that fell, twelve of the most powerful casters in the world took deep breaths as their grandmaster inspected the slip of paper Orlan had handed him, ensuring the spell would be properly attuned to the rift they sought to hitch a ride on. Each of the head mages was an eight sphere mage, the grandmaster the only ninth sphere alive.
Slowly the Grandmaster lifted his arms, the room falling silent as the other head mages matched his movement. Orlan stepped up to the anchorheart and placed his hand upon it, feeling the power pulsing through the grand stone, his power. The Grandmaster began to chant, the phrases were meaningless serving only to time each action of all the casters. One by one nested rings of glowing light appeared in the air around the Anchorheart, each mage responsible for a single ring. With the last of the twelve rings formed the Grandmaster’s chant changed, and runes began to appear between the rings, the glowing lights being carved from the air itself.
The third chant began and now it was Orlan’s turn, he began to channel power from the Anchorstone into the spell surrounding it. The pulsing violet light almost seemed to taint the beautiful runes and lines of the spell, several of the mages grunting in effort as they struggled to contain the raw power within the rings. They’d practiced this several times over the last couple months, but this was the first time they’d be powering a full twelve ring spell. As far as he could tell no one had ever powered a twelfth tier spell with power from an Anchorheart, much less using Orlan’s unique mana.
The rings flickered as the spell construct struggled to manage the rampant, chaotic power of the rift. For several minutes all the mages waiting along the walls held their breath, the head mages sweating as they forced the energy into the proper shape. Then, like the pin of a lock falling into place, the spell stabilized to the obvious relief of everyone in the chamber.
That was the first hard part, where things could have gone horribly wrong. Rift mana was volatile at the best of times and while the spell was theoretically sound, it hadn’t been tested in full. Taking the opportunity for a short break before they activated the spell most of the head mages pulled a mana crystal out and crushed it, grunting as the energy entered their souls. But a short break was all they got, as the Grandmaster restarted the chant.
This time the entire island shook as power suffused the area, ripping it from where it hovered over a wasteland far from Last Wall. This was the next hard part, once they entered the rift the spell would be automatic, but until then they were tunneling their way through the void under their own power. Only Orlan’s rift mana even made this possible, but that didn’t make it easy. The head mages struggled to keep their rings stable as forces upon both the spell and the land they stood upon grew.
The next section of the chant indicated they’d left their world behind and were now in a rift of their own making. Any mistake now could be fatal for everyone on the island. Realistically it was only a matter of time before someone was overexerted, but that was why the extra mages were gathered to take over if needed. Even a less powerful mage was preferable to breaking the circle.
The newest of the head mages was, predictably, the first to go too far. His outer sphere shattered, releasing a flood of energy as his soul partly broke down. Years, perhaps decades of work gone in an instant, the head mage dropping to the seventh sphere. Despite the pain the man grit his teeth and stayed in, so long as they were at least sixth sphere the mages should have the control needed to manage the spell.
Orlan was too focused on his own task to notice, while the mages kept the spell active, it was his job to keep the island intact. With each quake new cracks appeared in the foundation of his island, forcing him to draw energy from the already taxed Anchorheart to seal them. As they approached the rift they were planning on joining the instability would only get worse, to the point that even a minor fracture could become a major fault in the structure of the island.
Two more mages dropped to the seventh sphere as their outer soul shattered, one of them being overwhelmed by the surge of energy and had to be replaced. The injured head mage was rushed out of the room to a nearby ward where some of Orlan’s knights with healing abilities waited. They couldn’t risk other magics in the Anchorheart chamber, forcing them to leave all uninvolved mages a safe distance out.
Cracks were forming faster than Orlan could seal them by this point, and he was being forced to supplement the power of the Anchorheart with his own mana. He was being forced to prioritize critical damage over less vital areas, leaving him helpless as he watched a landslide take out a small village on the northern side of the island. Thankfully all inhabitants of the island had been evacuated to the castle specifically for this reason. And while the loss of the village would hurt their ability to produce food, it shouldn’t matter in the long run. The other side should have plenty.
Right when Orlan thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. They’d impacted the outer skin of the rift they were targeting, and were now forcing their way through. Only the Grandmaster had avoided having a sphere shatter, the massive mana being ninth sphere gave him holding out far longer than the others. Now, though, mana flowed from him like water from an overturned cup. Orlan felt as his own outermost sphere shattered, power surging through him into the Anchorstone, dropping him to the sixth sphere. The massive power reserves of the Anchorstone had sustained him until now, but at the end of the day he, too, had limits.
They were rapidly running out of mages, two of the head mages having fallen below the sixth sphere and being forced out of the circle. Orlan reached out and checked on their progress, hoping they were almost through, only to find they were trapped against the inner skin of the rift. They needed another burst of power to make it through, and Orlan grimaced as pain flooded his body as he dropped to the fifth sphere. Despite the reduced capabilities of his reduced soul he still felt as the Grandmaster summoned enough power to cast another spell.
Orlan’s eyes popped open, looking to where a single spell circle hovered in the air over the middle of his chest.
“Grandmaster,” Orlan forced out through his clenched jaw, “don’t!”
The old man simply gave a sad smile as the spell activated, and all nine of the man’s spheres shattered at once. Immense energy flooded from his body, more than any single mage could hope of generating. Not even the Anchorstone could have produced such a torrent of power. In an instant the spell stabilized, reinforced by the life force of the worlds strongest mage, and they broke through into the rift.
Every mage still standing collapsed to the ground, panting, including Orlan. After a few minutes to recover, only the Grandmaster’s body remained unmoving however, the other mages all knew what had happened as soon as power had flooded the spell. But to think the old man would shatter all of his sphere, giving his very soul to ensure their success, took them minutes more to comprehend.
With the spell cast and the island now safely riding along in a natural rift, Orlan’s knights entered the chamber to tend to the exhausted mages.
“Lord, you did it,” a soft, feminine voice said from next to him. It wasn’t a question, but a statement and congratulations. Orlan slowly turned to look at his head knight, Lady Lialra as she gave him a soft smile. Accepting her help he stood, putting his hand on the Anchorstone once more to inspect the damage. A few more landslides had escaped his notice, the skyship port was trashed and several older buildings in the main town at the base of the castle had collapsed. A small section of the eastern island was hanging on by a thread, and Orlan directed the Anchorstone to send its energy there as it regenerated its now spent reserves.
That last act completed he allowed Lialra to lead him from the chamber and to a bed.
-----
Two days had passed since they entered the natural rift, a short service was held for the fallen grandmaster despite the darkness outside. Without a sun it was starting to grow cold, but they’d prepared for that, and the castle was completely heated by the Anchorstone’s magic. Orlan had recovered from the ordeal in under a day, despite being reduced to the fifth sphere, while the other mages were still convalescent.
“The seers predict that we’re be emerging in under a day,” Kiethara reported, “but even they admit that it’s hard to see the world now, so they could be off by quite a bit.”
“That’s fine,” Orlan nodded, “I want the knights ready for combat at a moment’s notice, we’ll be emerging in the middle of a beast rift. So keep the islands defenses at the ready.”
“Will you be joining us Lord?” Nariva, the youngest of his knights, asked hopefully.
“Yes,” Orlan nodded, “I may be only fifth sphere now, but I can still fight.”
The girls winced at the mention of his reduced capabilities, their power was limited as well by his condition. So while the knights at the sixth sphere were still stronger, they wouldn’t be able to tap the powers granted by their bond as easily.
“Lord,” Lialra spoke up, here eyes refocusing indicating she’d just received a message. Orlan suppressed his frustration that he hadn’t been able to sense the incoming message, he’d forgotten how limited his magical sense had been like this.
“The new Grandmaster thinks he’s located about where we’ll be emerging,” she continued, holding a hand up. Three spell circles appeared, rapidly filled with runes and vanished to be replaced by an illusory map. Orlan leaned forward to look at it, then scowled.
“Looks like we’ll be appearing over a major city,” he said, “unless the other side had changed radically since I was there. So I want both lances deployed with healers. Also be prepared for other combatants in the area, I doubt the locals will be able to differentiate us from the beasts. Avoid hurting other people if possible, but, as always, keep yourselves alive. Got it?”
-----
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It was bright out, despite being the middle of the night, the city lights illuminating the ground as effectively as the sun would. Despite the late hour cars were about and people were working, going about their day, or night as normal. When a couple of massive bolts of lightning silently flashed across the cloudless sky few noticed, only for the thunder to strike the ground like a shockwave. The city shook and the lights flickered out citywide. Even the cars went still and, for a single timeless moment the city was quiet, then the screams began.
From injuries as a result of glass shattered by the thunder to simple panic at the sudden outage the city refused to remain silent. Another set of massive lightning bolts struck the ground in one of the many city parks, briefly casting the city in stark light and shadow before the thunder blew the ground apart, toppling several of the taller structures nearby. A swirling maelstrom of light was left behind where the lightning struck, no more than a hundred feet across but hardly a stable sphere as it boiled and writhed almost like a living creature struggling to free itself.
What had been simple panic became outright terror as strange creatures appeared out of the night, first seen only as silhouettes as smaller threads of lightning lashed out from the maelstrom of energy. But before long their roars echoed across the city to match the screams. The strange, bestial creatures, reminiscent of great apes, but with almost stick thin limbs and body. Boar like heads filled with a maw of dagger like teeth bit deep into anything that got too close while razor sharp claws cut through flesh and steel with equal ease.
Gunfire joined the growing din of the battle, accompanied by pained roars, but these creatures weren’t simple animals and the handguns used by the local police did little more than slow them down. Larger rifles and shotguns, rare within city limits, were able to drop several of the monsters, but there were only so many to go around while the number of beasts only seemed to grow.
More lightning flashed across the sky, but this time it was partly blocked from sight. More flashes revealed a massive island of stone, easily several miles across, floating in the dark sky above the city. Within moments boats with flattened bottoms and sails protruding out to either side shot out from the top of the island and curved down into the city below. Each boat made for a different spot around the maelstrom, warriors in armor jumping from the copper clad hulls before they even touched down.
Reports of women in armor were common in the days following the attack. Wielding strange, anarchic weapons they carved through the beasts with the ease the beasts had been killing people off moments earlier. While most of the feminine knights focused on killing monsters, others went out of their ways to help people. People would tell stories of an angel in armor pulling them from the rubble of their houses, a soft yellow glow enveloping them as their injuries healed in real time then the woman pointed them towards safety before running to save the next person.
They would talk about the other strange powers, throwing balls of fire or light striking out with the power of a tank shell to level entire masses of the monsters. The fighters moving with super human speed and strength were common, but while most reports were scattered there was one that was repeated by people from multiple locations. A man in heavy steel armor, wielding a bladed spear, who seemed to flicker in and out of reality as he tore through the monsters, only to vanish like a dream. He seemed to be everywhere at once, where ever the fighting grew fiercest he would appear. Many assumed it was a group of different men who, despite the different abilities and weapons demonstrated by the warrior women, all had the same powers.
Whatever the case, by the time the sun began to rise the maelstrom of light at the center of the event had vanished. City streets were littered with the dead, hundreds of people and thousands of monsters. But no bodies belonging to the angelic warriors who’d come to their rescue.
-----
Orlan looked at the map displayed on the round table in the center of the room. Many of his higher ranking knights were with him, watching as points of light appeared, marking each detected rift event. While the central rift was the source of largest number of monsters, smaller temporary rifts would appear at random at some distance around the main rift, and each could be the source of one or more monsters.
“I estimate a 98% effective cordon,” Nallia, the strongest mage among Orlan’s knights, explained, gesturing to a set of rift events that appeared on the far side of a river that cut through the city, “while a couple seem to have slipped past us initially the training squad hunted down many, if not all, of the stragglers. Unfortunately between the chaos in the Aether due to the rift and the number of people in the city we haven’t been able to confirm that, any divination is effectively impossible in these conditions.”
“Nothing we can do about that,” Orlan shrugged, “what about casualties?”
“We estimate between five and ten thousand injured and around eight hundred dead among the locals,” she continued, shaking her head at the numbers. A city in her world had ten thousand people, yet that many being injured here was considered a low number given the sheer size of this city, “for us almost everyone was injured, but only three were serious. The training lance was caught off guard by a series of rift events.”
Orlan simply nodded in reply, the training lance was filled with knights in training, none of whom were above the forth sphere. They’d been placed where the fewest people and monsters should have been, but, as was all too common, the rift proved unpredictable. Thankfully with their healers none of them would be permanently injured, but several were out for several days due to the backlash of healing magic.
“The monsters were largely second sphere equivalent,” Nallia continued, “only a few rising to third sphere equivalent, which likely explains our low casualty count. Based on our estimations of this side’s Aether they’ll be unable to sustain themselves for more than couple days, so if any did escape they won’t last long.”
“Still, I want at least one knight ready to respond at any time,” Orlan ordered, several of the knights nodding, “just in case, this is a heavily populated area after all.”
“Our estimation of local defenses is… poor,” the mage added as she continued the report, “we figure they delt with no more than a couple dozen monsters. If any more rifts hit this area it’s unlikely they’ll be able to stop them, even with advanced warning.
“Finally, there are a couple odd flying craft circling the island, I believe you said they were called helicopters. There were five as of last count, but they’ve been coming and going since the sun came up.”
“I suppose I should deal with them,” Orlan sighed, “if that’s all I’ll go do that.”
After a glance around the room to see if anyone had anything to add he turned and strode out, followed closely by Lialra. The two walked in silence through the halls of the castle for a minute, until they were far enough from the map room that they were unlikely to be overheard that Lialra spoke.
“How’s it feel to be back?” she asked.
“Wish it could have been under better circumstances,” Orlan admitted, “or better yet, not at all. I was happy with our life in on the other side.”
“Really?” she asked in a teasing tone while leaning forward, “I seem to remember you being desperate to return when we first met.”
“That was years ago,” Orlan rolled his eyes, a smirk on his face despite himself, “before I found myself.”
“When every fight nearly killed you,” Lialra added, a playful smile on her lips, “and I had to nurse you back to health for days on end.”
“Miss those days?” Orlan returned, glancing at her.
“Hardly,” she snorted, “sometimes I felt less like your knight and more like nursemaid. In fact, I seem to remember you telling me about a kind of outfit they had on this side that would-.”
“Whelp, time to deal with those helicopters,” Orlan interrupted, a faint blush on his cheeks, before he stepped forward and vanished through space. Lialra merely smiled for a moment before calling on their bond to follow him, appearing in the courtyard of the castle in time for him to step through space once more, appearing on an outer turret, followed an instant later by Lialra. It was harder to follow him through his jumps due to their weakened bond, but as long as she was near him she could manage it. Though she imagined most of his other knights couldn’t right now, one of the many capabilities lost due to the power lost when crossing between the sides of the world.
“Looks like news choppers,” Orlan commented, having felt Lialra following him through his rifts, “no military yet.”
“Is that good?”
“No idea,” he shrugged, a series of runic circles appearing in the air behind him, only to flicker out just as quickly, leaving Orlan scowling, “right, flight is a seventh sphere spell for me.”
“Guess you’re stuck rift stepping up,” she said, “like we used to.”
“You coming?”
“Of course,” she replied with a warm smile. Orlan simply nodded and pulled upon the inherent power of his mana and stepped through space once more, a small spell circle appearing under his feet for a moment as he emerged in midair, forming a shield that supported him for an instant before he stepped once more. Lialra a step behind him, summoning her own shield to step on as they made their way towards the nearest of the helicopters.
It took a dozen steps before Orlan stepped onto the skid of a helicopter, reaching out to grab a handle bar on the door while a spooked camera man scrambled backwards. He said something but Orlan couldn’t hear him over the roar of the blades above them, so he pointed to the man’s head, then to his own ears. It took a couple tries but eventually the surprised man fished a headset out and handed it to Orlan.
He glanced towards the rear of the helicopter, Lialra was standing just behind him on the skid, but was looking up in wonder at the spinning blades just above them. He’d warned her to avoid them, but she still seemed fascinated.
“Can you hear me?” he asked after slipping the headset on.
“You gotta move the mic in front of your mouth,” a muffled voice replied, and Orlan quickly complied, “that’s it. So, uh, how the hell did you get up here?”
Orlan simply lifted an eyebrow at the man, turning to glance back at his island, a massive mountain of stone that hovered hundreds of feet in the air over the ocean. He’d moved it so it didn’t hang over the city, he knew there was an airport in the city and didn’t know how it would handle his island being in the way.
“That’s your first question?” Orlan asked in response, turning back to the camera man. Behind him someone else was peering out from the front cabin of the helicopter, he also wore a headset but hadn’t spoken up yet.
“I, uhh, I don’t,” the camera man stuttered, and Orlan simply rolled his eyes before looking at the other man.
“Can you speak properly?” he asked of the other man.
“Yes,” the other man answered quickly and confidently, showing experience in dealing with odd situations, “though this isn’t a great place for an interview.”
“That’s fine, I just wanted to get a message out,” Orlan replied, “first off, tell everyone that approaching within three miles of my island could be risky, it’ll trip our defenses and… well… I’d rather not hurt anyone. Second off, I’m willing to do a quick interview, but in return I want a cell phone, with a plan paid, lets say, a year out, and a radio I can use to speak with other choppers.”
“You want… a cell phone?” the man asked incredulously, looking at the simple, if well made, leather brigantine Orlan wore over a dark tunic and trousers. Looking down at his dress he did stick out, perhaps looking like he was in costume or from a renaissance fair. Despite that he was asking for a cell phone and radio, which, he had to admit, was a rather serious juxtaposition.
“I may not look it, but I am from this world,” Orlan explained, looking up, “though it has been a while, are cell phones not common anymore?”
“They are, just…” the reporter shook his head, “we’ll need somewhere to land.”
“I’ll put a helipad on the southern end of the island in a couple hours, just be sure to approach from the south so we know it’s you,” Orlan replied, “I’ll only answer questions for half an hour for now, I’m expecting the government to show up eventually.”
“No kidding,” the reporter agreed, writing something down on a pad, “cell phone, radio, two hours from now, approach from the south, right?”
“That’s it,” Orlan smiled, pulling his headset off and tossing it to the still confused camera man before stepping off the skid and vanishing through space, Lailra following him a moment later.
“Is this wise?” she asked as they returned to the ground a couple minutes later, “inviting them here?”
“One way or another we’ll need to talk with someone, best to do it on our terms than wait for them to force the issue,” Orlan shrugged, “if the government is anything like it was when I left, they won’t respond well to us appearing out of nowhere.”
“A very controlling royal family?”
“Something like that,” he nodded, reaching out a hand and pulling on energy from the Anchorheart and directing his will into the ground before him. The ground flowed almost like a liquid, becoming flat and solidifying into a stone platform a couple dozen meters across. Orlan couldn’t remember how much space a helicopter needed, so he decided to go overboard. Thankfully this side of the island had never been heavily used so there was plenty of open ground.
“And now we wait,” he said after ensuring the platform was stable. He couldn’t make full structures this way, the Anchorheart couldn’t manage that level of complexity without an Earth mage, but he could make foundations and generally alter the terrain.