Chapter 1

Eris Imperial Protectorate of Valtyr

Year 5 184 after the Dawn of Flames

"Mirrors can't eat people, captain." Said Lesly reassuringly as the soldier looked at her.

"If you say so ma'am." Simply answered the officer. He was clearly uneasy about talking with some as 'highly ranked' as she was, but he was a rarity amongst the Eris' Empire gendarme troops, tasked with maintaining orders in the Protectorates: he actually cared about the people he was responsible for, and not solely about how much money he could squeeze out of them. "But still, there have been several disappearances."

"And we will elucidate them. I can assure you of that." Lesly gave his men a pointed look, and the captain nodded. Caring or not, he could take a hint.

"I will leave you and your specialists to your work then." The captain bowed briefly before withdrawing, his small squad of bodyguards in tow.

Lesly watched him go, before sighing as the door closed, and there was the unmistakable click of soundproofing enchantments coming back online.

"Persistent."

"The good ones always are." Answered lieutenant Falks, who for his sin of being unfailingly loyal and ever efficient, had become the leader of her bodyguards and her de facto personal aide. "He will be back, you know."

"Of course he will. But this will help keep him at bay, as long as we can produce some explanation to keep him satisfied." She tapped the card pinned to her uniform, which would identify her to anyone with the appropriate spells or artifacts as colonel Lesly Surevoie, Eris Imperial Intelligence Bureau.

The fact that the bureau had never heard of her didn't matter. Even if someone thought of checking her identity, they would find a fully falsified service record, testimonies…and anyone digging deeper would have to access the physical archives in the capital, where a kill team would be waiting for them.

"As long as we do not abuse the authority, yes." The lieutenant looked at the mirror. "Are you sure about this? This is…a lot of resources, and a lot of risks ma'am."

"I am. If I'm wrong, we can pull back and not leave a trace…and if I am right, it would have been madness to do anything less." She followed the lieutenant's gaze, studying the shiny, perfectly reflective surface. "Any progress?" She asked to the specialists currently busying themselves with instruments she didn't even pretend to begin to understand.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Yes ma'am." Said one of them as they stepped away, saluting her. They wore the same kind of fake ID she did, albeit with a much lower rank of course. "This is definitely enchanted. We are as of yet unsure as to what kind of enchantments, but…well, the very fact that their use is so obviously obfuscated already says a lot. Not to mention the fact that it is frustrating our efforts so far."

"So, Old World then?"

"Almost certainly."

Lesly slowly nodded. The Old World had ended itself in the apocalyptic conflict of the Great Night millenia ago, and the planet had never recovered. They certainly had never even come close to the technological prowess of that time, and the artifacts left behind after the war were each unique marvels of magic and engineering.

Officially, they were on the long path to a better future, where this technology and knowledge would once again be theirs, thanks to the magnanimous 'God of Fire' and his 'gifts'.

The Order To Restore Humanity, the organization truly behind Lesly and her men, knew better. They knew what was left unsaid in that convenient history. They knew what had truly happened to the Old World…and they had a plan to reverse the greatest crime ever committed.

Of course, that was easier said than done. Especially when the God of Fire had left his guard dogs, his 'Custodians' to prevent exactly that, and seeded the world with temples to be his lackeys' eyes and ears. Hence the need to make the good captain think this was just a case of Imperial Intelligence banging their chest and throwing its weight around, and not something more serious.

"Good, then take the time you need. Lieutenant? Make sure they are under constant armed guard. I truly don't believe the mirror ate anybody." Not in the traditional sense anyway, as she was deeply hoping it was a gateway of some kind. "But something made several people disappear in its vicinity, and I would rather not have an unwelcome surprise like, say, a few security golems. Or a combat unit."

"Yes ma'am. I'll have my team pull out some of the power armor."

"That would be for the best."

Lesly gave the spacious room -a subset of a much larger warehouse, storing stars knew what alongside the mirror- another look, nodded, and walked out. The best she could do now was to get out of the way of her specialists.

*****

"Well, that was fast." Said Lesly as she contemplated the room she'd left a scant few hours before.

A room that was now devastated, pockmarked with laser fire, foul smelling ichor, and pulverized bits and pieces of what looked like a very, very nasty monster.

She was suddenly a lot more grateful for the bout of paranoia that had made her order the entire warehouse to be shielded and soundproofed before they started their investigation proper.

"So was the attack." Commented Falks as he gazed upon the devastation. "Six seconds, all told. Bad news? One of our power armor suits is inoperable, at least until we can get it back to a stronghold." Lesly nodded. The Order maintained a significant cache of Old World technology, including the means to maintain it, but by necessity any high tech industry had to be carefully hidden, lest they be detected by the Custodians. Hence the Order's strongholds, a mix of fortresses, industrial sites and mustering points. "Good news? The mirror is indeed a gateway, and it is now open."

That much was pretty much obvious, given the shimmer surrounding the mirror, and its glass having vanished, showing what looked to be a very unprocessing room.

A room made of reinforced neoconcrete, a material whose means of fabrications had been forgotten since the fall of the Old World.

Bingo, thought Lesly.

Because if the markings found on the mirror, the ones which had garnered the Order's attention in the first place, were correct, then that room had to be the entrance to the fabled dimensional vault of Isham. Or Isham's vault, depending on what texts you used as referrence.

A vault that had been thought lost at the beginning of the great night. A vault that contained a treasure whose value was quite literally uncalculable.

Because, if the texts were to be believed, its innermost chamber contained a blank dungeon core.