Mana surges as I call upon the raw power contained in my glass cores. Broken laughter burbles up from deep within my chest, and I throw off the shackles of fear that made me sneak around like a rat in the dark. Why didn’t I fight the Rift in the first place? I shake my head, clearing away the cobwebs of pacifism and the fogginess of the last day, and seize hold of the clarity of the path in front of me: violence. A dizzying eruption of raw energy bursts out of me as I slam the power of my new Domain against the modified Rift core.
“What happened to stealth?” Mikko hisses.
“Die,” I snarl at the core, ignoring my brother. Rage sweeps through me like a fight song, building in a crescendo as violence thrums around us in unceasing waves. My will crashes over the cold, alien consciousness of the Rift, contesting its dominion.
“Are you crazy, Nuri?” Mikko cries, pulling me back from the core with his powerful hands. As much as I struggle, he’s inexorable. His eyes grow wide and panicked. “You can’t just challenge a Rift like that. We don’t even know what we’re up against!”
“You want to fight like men, or flee like dogs?” I growl at Mikko. The distraction costs me, though, and now I’m losing ground in the contest of wills. My control slips and hot anger burns through me. It's all his fault; he broke my concentration!
I shrug off my brother's hand, twisting away from his restraining grasp as I stalk toward the strange, hijacked Rift core. “I have work to do. Don’t get in my way again.”
“Nuri! What’s wrong? This isn’t like you,” Mikko says, his voice low and intense enough to draw my attention back to him. His gaze locks on my face, as though he’s searching for an answer that’s not there.
I glare back at him. “Nothing’s wrong. Now shut up. I need to focus.”
“No. Something is definitely wrong,” Mikko insists, shuffling toward me with his hands up and his palms open, like he’s approaching a skittish animal. He peers at me, squinting, concern written on his face. “What’s happening with your eyes? They’re pitch black.”
My hand moves before I realize it, shoving him away from me. A distant part of my mind registers that I’m being unnecessarily cruel, but I’m too caught up in the throes of fighting off the Rift’s Domain and losing to care. “Back off!”
“Let me help you!
“Help me win or get out,” I growl.
Mikko flinches away, a hurt look flickering across his face. “What’s gotten into you, Nuri? Something is wrong.” He snaps his fingers abruptly and straightens up. “The Rift must be influencing your mind. You have to fight it. Don’t succumb!”
I laugh bitterly. “I’m not the one in danger. Aren’t you tired of getting pushed around? It’s time to put an end to things. What’s happening here isn’t right. [Lord] Dimitri thinks he can get away with oppressing this entire region for his own benefit because no one’s willing to stand up to him. No one’s got the backbone to resist or the strength to make it matter. Well guess what? I do.”
Mikko takes a breath, about to argue, but something seems to make him rethink the idea. He shuts his mouth so hard that his teeth click together, but he still looks troubled.
I gather more mana, straining the limits of what my artificial cores can throughput, tensing for the confrontation that’s about to go down. “Enough. Put that hammer I made you to good use and take care of the incoming guards.”
I turn away from Mikko and move over to the Rift core, ignoring his confused and concerned expression. I have a war to win. The battlefield isn’t the place for sentimentality. Something deep inside my chest purrs in satisfaction at the thought of indulging myself with further violence.
A few minutes later, the clatter of footsteps and the clank of armor announce the approach of the guards I sensed earlier through my expanding [Arcane Domain]. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Mikko charging forward like a huge bull on a rampage, roaring as he engages with the first unlucky defender of the Old Keep.
I clench my jaw, ignoring the tiny voice in the back of my head that begs me to intervene on my brother's behalf. Instead, I give in fully to the overpowering urge to do battle with the alien will animating the Rift. Mikko will be fine. He’s strong, and even better, he has my hammer. Igniting a significant portion of the mana that I spent all day meticulously regenerating, I pour everything I have into my newest Skill.
The breath rips out of my lungs. My eyes are burning as I marshal the full might of [Arcane Domain: My Eyes Shall Pierce the Veil]. The world splits asunder. My next actions map themselves out in front of me, crystalizing into clarity as if I can catch the slightest glimpse of the future. No longer content to waste my time, I reach out my hand like a claw, cutting at the thick, turbulent stream of raw energy flowing into the Rift core.
Gnashing my teeth in rage, I strike again, resonating with the violence churning in the air. The good people of Mahkaiaraon have suffered long enough. The little local [Lord] and his forebears have done as they pleased for far too long. I’m not about to let that happen anymore, not if I can help it.
Ignoring the escalating waves of pain, I push forward until I am close enough to touch the core and strike at it directly. For a brief second, my resolve wavers as I remember what happened the last time I contested the power of a Rift. Then I sneer. This is different. Last time, I was desperate and alone, other than Smoke, who was a stranger to me. This time, my friends are counting on me to come through. Besides, I’m no longer the weakling I once was.
I’m a king in search of a kingdom.
With another snarl of rage, I bring the full weight of my nascent [Arcane Domain] against the Rift’s, challenging its right to rule. I’m not stupid enough to actually place my hand on the core and channel its power through my frail body of flesh, but I’m close enough to affect it directly with my mana. Already, I’ve staunched the thick flow of power into the core, and now it resembles a gentle creek instead of a river swollen with spring rains, but it’s not enough. I can do more. I have to do better.
I stretch my mental powers to the utmost, igniting individual runes within me instead of relying on the entire structure of my new Skill. Borrowing from my [Greater Heat Manipulation], I reinforce the way my [Arcane Domain] allows my mana to billow out and fill the surrounding space. All the while, I draw on the lessons I’ve learned from the reverberating echo of authority inherent to [Vitrification]—forcing the world to bend to my will is neither easy nor cheap, but I’m topped off and ready for war.
This close, with the preternatural vision granted by my [Arcane Domain] Skill, I’m able to make out thousands of minute etchings on the sides of the massive glowing sphere of the Rift core. This crystalline core is several times larger than the one in the Lesser Rift where I lost my hand. Yet far from daunted by the prospect, it brings a feral grin to my lips. It’s time to test myself and prove just how far I’ve come.
Like a luminescent pearl, or the moon lassoed out of the sky and brought down to earth, the Rift core pulses with brilliant teal and bright tangerine power. I’ve never seen markings like this in a real Rift; they look vaguely like runes, but less primal and more embellished.
Distinctly man made.
Like a thunderbolt from blue skies, the truth hits me out of nowhere. Someone must have enchanted this Rift core in a way that I’ve never encountered—in a way that I never even considered possible. Somehow, in a disconcerting denial of everything I thought I knew about the strengths and weaknesses of enchanting and imbuing, the enchantment on the Rift core in front of me embodies a concept, a true higher order ideal rather than an imprinted spell form.
“Impossible,” I mutter stupidly.
Yet it thrums with violence.
Clearly, it can’t be impossible since it’s staring me in the face, but it contradicts every theory I’ve formed around changing the nature of something—that is, imbuing to become more than what it seems—versus enchanting it, which should simply overlay a function or enhance its properties rather than reshape its identity.
My breath quickens in excitement. Right before me is incontrovertible proof that magic is vast and majestic, far grander than I ever dreamed. Everyone loves to constrain and confine, to compartmentalize and categorize.
My crash of willpower fades into the background for a heartbeat. As much as I respect Rakesh and Ezio, something about their approach to magic has never quite sat right with me. It’s too limiting. This is liberating, a refreshing contrast to my incomplete understanding. Magic is more than runes and Skills, more than concepts and neat, packaged ideas. It’s inscrutable and wild, throwing off the weak fetters of our mortal knowledge. The world opens before me with unbounded horizons—and I shiver, find it exhilarating and terrifying all at once. It beckons me with whispered promises.
I shuffle a step closer to the enchanted core, entranced by the wild beauty of the Rift and its odd, impossible contradictions. Images and vistas of possibility flash through my mind.
Hooked thorns among pastel flowers.
A warship adrift on stormy seas.
Twisted tree limbs in ancient forests.
Blood in the water.
“Snap out of it, Nuri!”
I blink away what feels like tears, confused and staring at my brother. Horror is written all over his face. I lift a hand to my cheek, wiping away the thick liquid. I tilt my chin, staring at the stain of blood on my fingers.
All around me lie the unconscious bodies of the guards. Mikko made short work of them, as I knew he would, knocking them out with his hammer. But before I can congratulate him on his hard won victory, he shoves me to the side, away from the Rift core, and I stumble, leaning against a nearby wall for balance.
Mikko springs forward with a wordless war cry, his massive imbued glass warhammer in his grasp. The burly [Blacksmith] slams the head of the weapon down on the core. Unbreakable meets invincible, and neither yields. The Rift core shivers under the impact, but stands strong, utterly resistant while it channels the mana of an entire pocket dimension. He snarls, resets his hands, and strikes again, this time angling his blow so that his wrath is unleashed against the bloody, jagged enchantments etched around the circumference of the modified core.
Wreathed in green black flames, the enchantment flashes with power, defending itself from Mikko’s ferocious assault. The blow shunts aside, but my brother is undaunted. He whirls with the force of the redirection, spinning and throwing his full weight into the next hit. His body glows in my sight, overflowing with more mana than I’ve ever seen him bring to bear. Likely half of his pool of mana floods into his Skill at once.
The overwhelming force of the hammer blow, empowered by the overcharged channel of [Strength of the Forge Gods], crashes against the etching. It fights back, instantly draining the enchantment on the core of its power. The resulting shockwave lifts Mikko and I off our feet and flings us against the far wall, smashing us into the foundations of the Old Keep and cracking the thick blocks of stone.
My head rings like a struck bell.
Vaporous mana vents into the air, thick enough that I can see it with the naked eye even as I drop [Arcane Domain: My Eyes Shall Pierce the Veil]. I shudder at the sudden loss of vision and power, fighting to get my bearings after the shockwave rocked me. My Domain fades away from me like a fire snuffed out, leaving me shivering and empty. I sniff, fighting back a surge of strange sorrow, but the sudden hollowness leaves me distraught.
In the next second, I scramble away from the potentially corrosive energy released by the core defending itself. It feels wrong, rotten and twisted. Who knows what kind of effect such an unnatural enchantment might have?
Mikko tosses me over his shoulders and runs. A distant part of me screams that it’s not fair, that I need to go back and fight, that violence demands it, but I’m too disoriented to give voice to my thoughts right now. As we run deeper into the dungeon below the Old Keep, away from the Rift core, the urge fades and the pressure in my head lessens.
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“Go right,” I croak out, catching a sense of the energy flows I noticed earlier. There’s an unknown factor that’s powering the enchantments hijacking the core. As much as I want to pit myself against the Rift’s Domain, the fight got knocked out of me, and I’m willing to regroup and lick my wounds before I face down such a powerful enemy again.
“What are you looking for?” Mikko asks, his voice terse. It occurs to me in a flash of shame that he doesn’t trust me anymore. He hesitates for a moment, but he veers to the right and takes a side passage, heading in the direction that I indicated.
“Something foul,” I mutter. “That enchantment has no right being so strong. It’s not new, but it hasn’t degraded like I’d expect. Something’s keeping it fresh.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Probably,” I admit, but my mind is moving too slowly for me to turn the problem over and look at it from all angles. I feel like I’m trying to run through knee-deep mud, or swim upstream against a swift current.
Mikko stutter-steps and comes to a halt in the dim, narrow stone passage. He sets me down in front of a sturdy wooden door with iron bands. “Through here, I presume? I can break it if you need the door open.”
I lean on my brother for support, my body weak and my thoughts all jumbled up from the impact of my head on the wall, and take a moment to collect my thoughts. I nod, which sets my head spinning again. “Do it.”
He smashes the glass hammer against the lock, smashing it with a single blow. He rears back and swings again, caving in the heavy door like tissue paper, and shoulders his way into the room beyond, with me on his heels.
It’s too dark to see anything, so I pool enough mana in my hand to emit a faint glow. It’s not much, but it’s just enough to illuminate the grisly scene in front of us. Mikko screams, and I jerk back in horror, almost tripping over the threshold of the doorway in my haste to get out of the unexpected tomb.
A desiccated corpse is staked to the floor, flayed open and veins reaching up from it like the roots of a tree. They feed into a bundle of tubes that leads into the wall—the trunk of this odd, metaphorical tree—and power pulses through them like the beat of a heart.
“That’s what’s running the Rift?”
Mikko’s voice comes out timid and halting, squeaking like a mouse. I’ve never heard him sound so shaken. He goes ashen, looking like he’s ready to vomit.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He gulps. “What should I do?”
“Destroy the connection.”
“Can’t you burn it, Nuri?” Mikko asks, his tone pleading. He doesn’t seem to want to get anywhere near the half-butchered carcass, and I don’t blame him.
“Need it. Evidence,” I finally croak out, unable to drag my gaze away from the terrifying, profane source of energy. “If I use [Greater Heat Manipulation], then there won’t be anything left to analyze later. Smash the tubes. Hurry! We’ve got company incoming.”
Mikko grips his glass hammer, seeming to take courage from the weapon in his hand. He steps forward, swinging the hammer at the tubes where they insert into the wall.
A blurred mana shield manifests, blocking the blow. He staggers back.
Grunting in annoyance, Mikko calls on [Strength of the Forge Gods] to empower his attack. This time, the hammer slam prevails, and the tubes crack. With a sharp tinkling sound like the shattering of glass, the power source of the enchantment breaks, twisting under the violent attack.
Groaning like the overburdened girders of an old, rusted iron bridge collapsing under its own weight, the entire Domain buckles and shifts around me. The core is still intact, and I don’t think Mikko broke the enchantment, just its source, so I’m not worried about losing stability in the Rift yet. Even so, it’s an ominous sign.
Lucidity trickles back to my mind as the disturbing, warping effect of violence dissipates. I take in a deep, cleansing breath. Whatever twisted my mind seems to be related to the strange enchantment, but it’s dying now that we’ve cut it off at the roots.
I blink owlishly, staring at my brother with a sense of deep shame as the memories of my actions sweep back over me. I’ve been treating my brother like rubbish. I hang my head. “I don’t know what came over me. Sorry probably isn't good enough.” I swallow hard. “But I am sorry for dragging you into this all the same, Mikko.”
His eyes crinkle as he smiles at me. “You worry too much, brother. We're both alive, and you seem to be in your right mind again. Now, let’s get out of this creepy room and shut this Rift down so we can get out of here.”
I shake my head. “Not sure that’s a good idea right now. I agree we need to get out, but I’m not going to trap all these guards inside while it collapses.”
He shrugs his huge shoulders. “They would have happily killed us. I’m not too torn up about it, to be honest.”
“Maybe you should be,” I reply.
Mikko slumps in relief. He nods at me, seeming to approve of my answer, and I realize again how oddly I was behaving. Maybe that was just a test to see if I was thinking clearly again. I turn, frowning in the direction of the Rift core. “This place isn’t as dangerous as most Rifts. If those townspeople [Lord] Dimitri hired as guards could be convinced to keep monsters in instead of allowing them to harass passing [Merchants], then maybe this place could be a good training ground.”
“You’re as crazy as that [Spear Commander].”
I snort out a laugh. “Not far off. I’ll bet that Nicanor would be interested in adding a stable Rift like this to the rotation.”
“You think that's why he sent us here?”
I think it over for a few moments before I shrug helplessly. “Hard to say for sure, but it makes sense. It was pretty suspicious that he and my [Inquisitor] friends were all on the same page. I’m starting to think they knew what was going on down here, but couldn’t spare the manpower with the war going on. So they sent us to investigate.”
“Or maybe it was a test,” Mikko says. He frowns. “You’re not still thinking of taking over the Rift yourself, are you? That was just the influence of the weird enchantment at work?”
I chuckle weakly. “Probably? I won’t try now, if that’s what you’re worried about. My head hurts.”
Mikko shuffles farther away from the room with the corpse. He keeps glancing back at it as though scared that it will rise up from the dead and chase us through the dungeon. “Do you think your new Domain really gives you that kind of power? That’s not normal for someone in the First Threshold, Nuri. You’re terrifying!”
“It’s probably beyond me still,” I say, although part of me wants to try. I’ll bet I can do it, if I’m willing to pay the cost. “But once it ranks up, there’s a good chance that I’ll be able to contest control of Rifts like this. Maybe even a Greater Rift, once I’m in the Second Threshold.”
Mikko gestures back toward the way we came. “Think that the guards will be all right? I’m worried about running into more enemies, but I’d rather not murder my way through them. I’m not a killer, Nuri. I’ll fight for what’s right, but it still makes me sick to my stomach.”
I extend my senses, checking for more enemies. Nothing. “We have a brief lull, but I’m not sure if I should risk the potential backlash if I fail to take over the Rift.”
“Nuri! I thought we already agreed no risking contesting it with your Domain right now,” Mikko chides. He scowls at me, but I know his anger is only because he loves me.
I smirk at my brother. “Besides, I'm worried that would tie me down to this spot. We still need to get to Gilead and find a proper teacher for Lionel. I’ve got too much adventuring to do to settle down just now.”
He glares at me again. “You know the [Inquisitors] probably have a job for you there. too. I don’t trust them.”
“Me neither,” I say, although I want to say that we can trust Casella and Mbukhe. They’re good men, but they aren’t always free to act on their own. And their boss freaks me out. If he’s behind things, I’m out of my depth. “For now, we need all the allies we can get. Once we’re strong enough, then we can do things on our own terms.”
Mikko nods. He shifts his hammer from one shoulder to another. “Can we get moving? It feels strange to suddenly have a breather after all that fighting and sneaking. Standing around makes me nervous.”
“Plus that corpse is creepy.”
“Yep,” he agrees, shivering.
“You’ll be fine,” I promise, although I have no way of guaranteeing that. “We should go back to the Rift core, even if I’m not pushing back with my [Arcane Domain]. I need time here to review the core.”
“My body doesn't want to seem to calm down,” Mikko says, his shoulders hunched as we walk back toward the room with the core. He’s normally so sure of himself that it hurts me to see him like this. “How do you handle it, Nuri? You and the [Inquisitors] seem to take it all in stride.”
“Some days are better than others,” I say, my voice coming out in a dry whisper. “I don’t have any secret strategy for you. No amazing suggestions. You just do your best. It’s all anyone can really do.”
“Doesn’t get easier with practice?”
“I guess, but the practice isn’t exactly fun. Better never to have to practice dealing with this stuff at all. I wish I hadn’t dragged you into all of this.”
“Well, that’s thoroughly depressing.”
I clap him on the back. “Look, the best I can tell you is to just put it aside for now. Seize hold of moments when you can catch your breath and relax. Deal with it all later, after we get out. Remember, self-pity is the luxury of survivors.”
Mikko nods, although I can tell he's still chewing over my words. “So what now? Do we head back to the inn? Push further into the Old Keep? What are we doing next?”
“I need to study these enchantments if I can. Something extremely strange is happening here. Keep guards and monsters off my back, will ya? I don’t think that we should seek out the boss fight, and I’d rather not have to take out any more guards.”
“Avoiding detection is probably a fool’s errand after we broke that—whatever the abyss that was back there. It’s going to set off alarms.”
“You’re probably right,” I allow. “Still, I’m tired of letting other people decide when and who we fight. Let’s take time to study and figure out what’s going on.”
Mikko rubs his jaw. “Since when do you know anything about enchantments? Thought it was a totally different skill set compared to imbuing.”
“It is. Well, usually,” I say, amending my initial statement. “Somehow, this enchantment captured a concept. I didn’t know that was possible apart from imbuing, but I can’t argue with fact. I just can’t figure out how that corpse kept it powered up so long, unless it’s drawing from the Rift’s own mana to maintain itself. Regardless, that doesn't explain how someone merged imbuing and enchantment so successfully.”
Mikko shrugs, but he seems happy to have a new topic to discuss while we put some distance between us and the corpse room. “Imbuing usually involves fundamentally changing something's nature, doesn’t it? But an enchantment is just an imprint of a Skill. I don't see why you can’t do both at the same time.”
“It’s a matter of invitation versus control,” I explain, drawing on everything I’ve learned from Ezio and Melidandri. “Mana is formless on its own, but it will resonate with a concept if you offer it meaning. An enchantment can be more complex, but it brute forces the issue. Look lively—lizards are incoming from our right.”
He snaps to attention, his hammer held high.
I nod at the empty tunnel. “Take care of them? I need to get back to the core and sketch out what’s left of the enchantments before all their energy fades.”
“You got it, Nuri. I know my job.”
I grin at my brother, happy to have him by my side, and jog back to the core room. I start the laborious process of copying whatever I’m able to decipher, glad that the enchantment is now inert. Even so, I let out an aggravated sigh. I’ve got a lot of work to do.
I manage to copy a single line of the strange, flowing script before my concentration is shattered by pounding footsteps. Mikko bursts into the room, panting heavily. Blood is spattered across his face, although it’s the wrong color to be his. I hope.
I quirk an eyebrow. “Need a hand?”
“There are more than I thought,” Mikko gasps out in between great gulps of air. “And these ones are more aggressive. Is it possible that whatever we broke was controlling them?”
“Shatter it all,” I growl, tucking away my notebook and bounding to my feet. “Let’s put an end to this threat. Together. Then it’s high time we bring in the rest of the team and figure out a plan. Something rotten is going on.”
The hissing cries of the Rift monsters interrupts me. I break off from making plans and cast out my senses. With an aggravated sigh, I slip my notebook back into my pocket and rise to meet the challenge.
The first armored lizard barrels into the room and finds its end at Mikko’s hammer swing. More follow, and my brother is hard-pressed to keep them at bay.
My [Arcane Domain] spreads out through the room like pollen floating on a lazy spring breeze. The power of the new Skill calls to me, begging to be used—begging to contest the Rift itself. Patience is a virtue, Nuri, I remind myself sternly, waiting until the entire rapacious pack is pressing in close. Mikko’s furious swings barely hold them back, but it’s just enough to buy me time to deploy the rest of the remaining mana in my cores.
Breathe. Steady, Nuri. Sensing my chance, I seize hold of the turbulent mana in the air and make it irrevocably, irresistibly mine to command. I can’t draw it into my cores, but I can use it directly to do my bidding. Sharpness lashes out, sparing only Mikko. The rest of the room is instantly carved apart, sliced open by the fury of a concept made manifest. As one, all of the heavily-armored lizards collapse, cut into pieces.
Mikko stares at me, open-mouthed. His jaw works, and he sputters, speechless for a long moment before finding his voice. “You’re an absolute monster, Nuri. I mean that in the best way possible.”
I grin. “Guess my new [Arcane Domain] gives me way more control than before. I didn’t think I would kill them all. Sorry I didn’t leave any for you.”
“Not complaining. I’m tired of fighting,” Mikko says, holstering his glass hammer in a sling on his back. “Now, let’s get the others. This place is creeping me out, and there’s safety in numbers.”
I nod wearily, feeling wrung out after my display of power. Wielding a Domain may be powerful, but it’s incredibly draining. My bones ache, and not just from slamming into the wall when the shockwave hit us. My [Arcane Domain] is too strong for my current advancement. “Good idea. Melina will do a better job copying all the enchantments, anyway.”
“Ha. Glad to see you’re feeling better, Nuri. I was worried about you for a while,” Mikko says wryly.
I cross my arms. “What do you mean?”
He laughs. “You and Lionel are cut from the same cloth, is all I’m saying. You both love making someone else do all your work for you.”
“Yeah, yeah. You got me there.”
He scoffs. “I always do, brother.”
“Classic delusion, Mikko. Dream on!”
Our good-natured banter improves our spirits as we trudge back up the stairs to retrieve the rest of our team. No matter what gruesome discoveries await us, or how many enemies we’ll have to fight to get out of this abyss-cursed place, one thing is for sure: everything in life is better with friends.