It is beautiful, a young man thought, looking through the lens of his creation. The sparkling light and the empty void above them that most took for granted. Oh, they revered the light of Xal and respected his power, but none understood. None of them saw reason to look to the heavens but to worship the avatar. The man, known to most as Cogs, was an aspiring Wizard with silvery hair and a passion none understood.
Pulling away from the device Cogs scribbled messy notes onto the parchment before him. For nearly a decade, they had scorned him, told him he was wasting his talents and his efforts. They lauded his skills in the elements and his power with them on the battlefield. They saw it as a waste of time, ignorant that time was precisely what he sought to control. Yet he persisted in his goal, no, his LOVE of the heavens above. His uncle Pelagius’ life had been cut short but his work would never be forgotten, not so long as he lived.
They could not understand or perhaps they refused to. The power and magnificence on offer from the very stars above. Waiting for any to take it, to appreciate the glory above. Here, in the city of Kedlath his work would finally silence all who doubted. They would come crawling back when they saw what he had accomplished.
It had started as a passing curiosity of his uncle, a celebrated wizard in his own right. The concepts of space and time controlled by mortal hands. Only the Blessed, those gifted by the Deities themselves, had ever succeeded in such an endeavour. The Fay Gates proved that it was possible, that it was real! Every day they were used across the world to go distances that would take months otherwise. So what if they had been created by the Blessed, why would that stop mortal men from doing so as well?
They thought him a fool, that Zesta, Goddess of Time and Amaya, Goddess of the Void would punish him for trespassing in their domains. Yet that time never came to pass, it was mortal hands that ended his uncle's life. Cogs placed the parchment in his hand back on his desk before he crushed it in rage. The Wizard Tower of Pelagius, the very one he now resided in, had been assaulted by men in crimson robes and his uncle slain. He had been in college then, learning the ways of magic like his uncle and father had at the time.
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When he received the news he rushed to the city of Indover to secure passage back to Kedlath, to track down those that had slain his kin. That had ended up with him stuck in a castle dungeon, accused of the desecration of an ancient tomb. He’d met friends there, in the dark, perhaps Amaya had been guiding him? A Dragonkin, an elven sorcerer, a mountain of a man from the east and even two half-breeds descended from succubi! Cogs shook his head at the fond memories of his friends, wondering if he should invite them to the tower. No, he shook the thoughts, it was time!
He exited the study in a hurry down the steps of the tower. His power swelled in his magic veins, the living energy just as excited as he was. Soon he found himself in a more suitable location, his training grounds.
Years of research had made this possible, toil and long nights of study. Now it was time, the air vibrated with magic as Cogs drew his wand. The very fabric of reality shuttered as his will solidified upon reality. This would prove his work, the work of his uncle, a teleportation spell that could transport him anywhere he so desired. A spell to lock him in a bubble of reality, a spell to protect his flesh in case of danger unseen and finally a spell to reverse the effects should things go poorly. With a deep breath, and a prayer to Cogs released the arcane might from the tip of his wand.
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They sat on twin thrones, looking down at him. One resplendent in a dress of stars, the other like a steel golem, an intricate mass of cogs and wires. Amusement, or perhaps something more, on one’s pale features. Annoyance, in the face of the other, looking upon him as if he had offended her. Cog's visage paled as he looked upon them, not believing his eyes, yet there was no mistaking who was before him. Amaya, The Goddess of the Night and Zesta, the Goddess of Time looked upon him from on high. The Goddess’ eyes, one pair holding an endless sea of stars and another the depths of all that had been and would be looked down upon the mortal who trespassed into their domain. A soft smile played on Amaya’s dark lips. A scowl of displeasure on Zesta’s steel visage. Before the former spoke to the man, her voice soft, yet all-encompassing and demanding his awareness.
“Well good evening young one, we have been waiting for you.”