Timothy and Khloe opened their eyes, their vision was blurry from too much sleep. They were both still so tired from the ritual. That ritual was the most intense physical and mental exercise of their lives. Khloe went to move her hand to rub her eyes when a gentle, yet firm, hand rested on her forearm.
“Shh,” a soft calm voice shushed her, “We have you.”
A warm cloth was pressed against the side of her eye as it cleaned away the sleep sand at its corners. The care that someone was taking with her frail state was a love that only came from family and good friends. Once the eye was clear this caretaker took the same gentle approach to her other eye. As the pressure from the cloth subsided, she was able to open them, letting them adjust to the light in the room.
She saw that she was in a tan canvas tent, judging by what the ceiling was made of. Her mind started going over the possibilities of where she could be. Her head was still a bit foggy and it took her a few moments to realize she was probably at captain Wilson’s camp. She started to relax, knowing that she was safe. She then looked to her left and right and saw her team next to her.
Teagan was standing beside her holding her right arm with his left hand and her right hand with his. He gave her a sad deep smile, a look of relief washing over his face as their eyes met. His sense of duty was written on his face, he was back to being the rock that the team could always lean on. It was a comforting thought to her.
Nigel was on her left holding a washcloth, his grin was so wide that it lifted her spirits just by looking at him. She gave him a gracious smile. Nigel used the back of his hands to wipe the tears away as they formed. He leaned over her and gave her a soft, gentle hug. It was as if he feared she was made of the thinnest glass, the slightest pressure could cause her to shatter. She reached up with her left arm to pull him in tighter, his tear-soaked beard wetting her face and clothes.
“We won?” Timothy asked through Khloe.
Nigel burst into laughter, “We won? We won?” he repeated, “That is the first thing you say to us? You almost died,” Nigel said with a mixture of nervous laughter and breath catching sobs. This caused Khloe to sputter a chuckle.
“Owww,” Khloe winced. Her body and skin still hurt from the ritual. “How long was I out?” she asked.
“About a week,” Teagan said, “I thought we may lose you, even though Nigel got to you immediately with our level six healing potion,” he sniffled quickly before continuing. “We were worried that the damage was too much. We sent for a healer, but we are a ways out and, as you know, healers are difficult to find.”
“Is that why you keep me around?” Khloe softly teased.
Teagan and Nigel chuckled a bit, Nigel cut in, his voice more controlled now, “Na. We like how you blow things up, but I tell ya. The way you used your magic this time was much different, and that ritual! Including the gods into it was a risky move, but I think that is the only reason you survived.”
“I don’t know what came over me. Once I figured out that they were trying to summon Torrithrax, I lost it. Bringing Itzel and Ursule into it was to make sure that the fire consumed the magic and their ritual was destroyed as quickly as possible. I added Thorin to help me stay alive long enough to direct the magic. I guess it worked,” Khloe explained. “But none of that is really important right now. We have a bigger problem. How did they know Torrithrax’s summoning ritual?”
“Not common knowledge, I assume,” Nigel asked.
Khloe straightened up to a sitting position as she addressed Nigel, “Not at all. In fact, my understanding is that it was sealed away long ago by my old friend and mentor. That information should be all but impossible to obtain. We need to trace this back to where they gained this ritual.”
“If the summoning ritual is such a secret, how did you know who it was calling out for?” Teagan inquired suspiciously.
Khloe looked at Teagan with a hurt expression before continuing, “You think I know this ritual?”
Teagan held his gaze on her.
“Fine! You believe what you want to believe,” she scolded him, “The reason I knew the name is when my ritual pulled the magic from theirs it was practically screaming that dragon’s name. At least magically. That!,” Emphasizing the word, “is how I knew.”
At that, Timothy felt a tugging sensation on his back as he was pulled from Khloe’s consciousness. He wanted to hear more and tried to hold on to the connection, but the harder he resisted the harder the pull became. He continued to struggle against the ineffable force when he felt a wellspring of power rise inside him, similar to when he was thrown off the plinth.
“Let it go,” he heard a disembodied voice say.
It sounded as if it was coming from all directions at once. Timothy could feel the power in that voice. It made him feel so small, like he was a speck of dust roaming the vast cosmos waiting to be consumed by any number of celestial bodies. It made his body shiver.
The voice also had a robotic quality to it. This added to the feeling of an alien power that could destroy you for even looking at it. It almost sounded like one of the AI voice generators he heard on the internet from time to time. Except, it felt like this AI had the power to control the universe.
“Why,” Timothy grunted through clinched teeth after he mustered the courage to speak to this voice.
“There is no more to that story in here. It will waste time and if you use that power there is no telling how long it will take you to recover,” the voice informed Timothy.
“Who are you? Are you Rift’s master?” Timothy cautiously questioned the voice.
“I am,” the voice replied.
“If you are a fifth dimensional being, shouldn’t you be able to see my entire timeline? You should know exactly how long it will take for me to awake,” Timothy asked to his own surprise. Would this entity strike him down if it thought he was being indignant?
“It is not that simple. The future has an exponential number of chances and probabilities. The present is like a ring that those possibilities pass through, trimming some of the branches, weaving some of the others through that ring. The past is a straight line, set in the timeline, never to be changed. Anything more than a few seconds into the future becomes incredibly difficult to discern. Do you understand?” the voice asked.
“Kind of, but not really. On a high level I can at least grasp the concept of what you are talking about,” Timothy said meekly.
“Then let go. It is time to return to the preparation room,” the voice directed Timothy.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Timothy thought for a second and then decided to follow the directions of the voice. He pushed back on that power rising inside him. It was like wrestling a snake. Every time he thought it was contained it found a way to sneak back out. It took him the better part of five minutes to fully suppress it and then he was able to stop fighting to hold onto this dream, or memory. Whatever it was. The second he stopped his struggle against the pull he was sucked back through the swirling colors that brought him here.
A moment later he was back in the doorway facing the room. Rift was sitting in his chair looking at Timothy as he appeared. He stepped out of the doorway and walked over to Rift’s side.
“What was it like?” Rift asked as he stood up.
Timothy paused a minute to think, “It was like the best video game I have ever played. I am not sure if you have any type of virtual reality in your world, but it was like that but more. Everything was so real. It affected all five senses. I could even taste the ozone after I got struck by a bolt of lightning.”
“Struck by lightning, huh?” Rift asked.
Timothy took some time to fill Rift in on the whole experience and the story that unfolded. He included the bit at the end when Rift’s master talked to him. It took him more than fifteen minutes to go through the details. Once he finished retelling the story he noticed that Rift had a pained look in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked Rift.
“She survived in your story, huh? Khloe was a student of mine that turned into a good friend. She perished during that mission you just relived when she powered the circle,” Rift stood up and started pacing the room. “So, there was a way for her to survive.”
Timothy walked over to Rift and put a hand on his shoulder, “How long ago was this?”
“More than a thousand years ago. I still miss her,” Rift lamented.
“Were you two, um, you know?” Timothy asked.
“I loved her, yes, but not like that. She was like a little sister to me,” Rift sniffled a bit then looked at Timothy. “That is a tale for another day. You have work to do. You need to choose another door.”
“I will, but I have a few questions,” Timothy said and continued, “When I jumped into Khloe’s body, consciousness, awareness or whatever I seemed to get some inherent understanding of the magic, but a lot was left unclear. It seems like casters do not need to memorize spells, and spell casting is only limited by the amount of mana you have and the quantity of gems?”
“This will be covered later, but you are close. You only need to learn a spell once. After that you can cast it as long as you have the mana. Gems are a bit different. While they do have a limit, it is not the gems that impose this restriction. It is your ability to channel the mana through that gem before you get feedback. Your body will protect itself and limit the amount of mana your soul tries to pull through the gems to avoid this,” Rift informed Timothy.
“Kind of like a funnel?” Timothy inquired.
“That is close enough to get the general idea,” Rift answered.
“How many races are there?” Timothy asked.
“There are eight, but again, we will cover that when we get to that level,” Rift said with impatience, “You really need to be moving on to the next door.”
“Why? I know you said we don’t know how long I will last here but I just spent over a week in the caster door and I still feel strong,” Timothy rebuked Rift.
“You were in there for about ten minutes,” Rift said flatly, “Time moves differently inside those doors. Can we stop wasting time? I really do not want to have to wait for another candidate if you fade away. I like you, but time waits for no man. Not even in this place.”
Timothy had a stunned look on his face, “Only ten minutes! Wow, okay! We need to move forward then; I am NOT fading out of here. I am going for the wielder next,” he said as he walked toward the door.
Timothy looked back at Rift as he placed his fingers and thumb on the five stars, “Wish me luck,” and the door cracked open.
Rift gave him a thumbs up, causing Timothy to smile as he pushed the door open and stepped into the swirling lights.
The sensation was similar to the first door as Timothy was pulled through to take over another memory. At least a memory is what he thought to call it now that he had some experience. He twisted and turned through the tunnel of lights. He decided to have some fun with it this time and threw his hands up as if he was on a rollercoaster. When the ride stopped, he snapped into the consciousness of Howard Crow.
A slight man of about five foot five inches. Maybe 130 lbs with short jet-black hair and pale skin that had patches of shadows that moved along it constantly. The patches of shadow moving across his skin made Timothy think of a Rorschach test. It took him a moment to pull the knowledge from Howard.
He was a shadowborn, a human born of the dark with the ability to meld into shadows. They were known as the best utility race on Draconous with their ability to hide, shadow jump and their shadow storage. Timothy had a feeling that this would be an interesting memory to play.
Howard was sitting in a chair on the guest side of a desk in a small windowless room. There was a heavyset bald man on the other side of the desk looking at him. The large man pressed a button with a clear and purple gem on it. As he did the acoustics of the room changed. It sounded like he was in a sound deprivation chamber and Howard could feel the magical barrier interfering with any ambient magic as well. That button must have created some sort of privacy bubble in the room.
“Have you been briefed?” the heavy-set man asked.
Howard straightened in his chair, “Only that this has something to do with the Lady Jilisa Cole incident. Well, I guess not ‘Lady’ anymore.”
The man pushed his seat back a few inches and opened a drawer in the desk. He pulled out a file and placed it down for Howard.
“This is what we have on the situation. Read it over,” he said gruffly.
Howard took some time to read it, committing various sections to memory before closing the file and pushing it back to the man. “Am I understanding this correctly? That witch was trying to summon one of the foulest creatures ever to walk this planet.”
“Yes,” was all the man said.
“Is it also accurate that she is dead? And the death is confirmed?” Howard asked.
Again, “Yes,” was all the man said in response.
“And the remnants of the cult have been rounded up and executed?” Howard pressed.
“Yes”
“Then what is missing from the file? You did not bring me all this way to have me read a file and ask questions that you have the answers to,” Howard questioned with impatience heavy in his tone.
The man took the file, smoothed the edges and placed it back in the desk drawer then looked at Howard.
“What is not in the file, and will never be in any file, is the rarity of the ritual. There is no way she obtained that herself and she was not smart or coherent enough to figure it out on her own. The group that stopped the ritual had a member that was trained by the caster that imprisoned that dragon. She had the summoning ritual confirmed by her master that it was the one he locked away millennia ago.”
Timothy spoke through Howard, “So you need me to find out where the information came from,” he stood up and paced the small room. “What leads do you have so far?”
“Not much other than we believe that someone in her household orchestrated the deal,” the man said.
“Who?” Howard asked.
“We are not sure,” the man replied.
“So, you have your suspicions? Give me the name,” Howard asked of the man in a tone that conveyed that it would be a bad idea to tell him, ‘No.’
The man looked down at the desk, “Desmond Vicar. He is on the books as a consultant for the family but there are no records of what he, actually, consults them on. Start with him.”
Timothy and Howard nodded, “What are my rules of engagement? Any restrictions? Any political tripwires I need to know about?”
“I assume you know of the stories about Torrithrax?” The man asked of Howard.
Howard nodding his affirmation.
The man continued, “I can tell you that they are true. We have many records locked away on this dragon’s campaign. Did you know that even Evander was involved in her downfall?”
That name gave Howard pause. He stopped pacing and looked at the man, shocked.
The corner of the man’s mouth twitched into a slight smirk, “I thought not. If even the god of evil does not want this scourge upon the planet, then there are no rules of engagement. You do what you must to get to the bottom of it. Drop any bodies you need to, to ensure that this secret dies. There will be no debrief when you complete the mission, and you will be expected to disappear.”
“So, politics are a non-issue then, if I am to disappear,” Howard surmised.
“Correct,” The man finished, “Now go.”
Howard gave him a contemptuous bow, “As you command oh great one,” he said with a voice dripping in sarcasm. “I will need some time to gather supplies before I go,” he turned to leave the room.
“Gather whatever resources you need from the garrison before you leave,” the man added as Howard opened the door. “And close the door behind you!” The man added.
“I doubt you will have what I need, but I will indulge you and thank you for your offer,” Howard replied as he walked out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.