“Is this normal?” I whisper, unsure if it’s fear or reverence that steals my voice away in the face of eternity. We stand perched on a precipice, gazing into an abyss so profound that I cannot fathom either its scope or meaning. I sink to my knees, bereft of strength, and forcibly wrench my developing mana senses away from the intoxication of possibility. Worlds without end unfold below us, around us, above us.
Tem lifts his hand toward the shimmering, opalescent portal guarding the void between us and the Rift. He hesitates, his dark fingers poised like cast iron keys ready to unlock the mysteries of the universe, and breathes out an oath.
“Maybe this was a bad idea after all,” I say, shifting backward while still kneeling in the dirt. I’m no longer simply scared of monsters. I’m shaking with guilt at the thought of desecrating holy ground. Why did no one ever tell me Rifts were so beautiful?
“It’s lovely,” Tem says wistfully, echoing my own thoughts. “How can the unraveling of the worlds hold such allure? Tell me, Nuri, do you think Rifts are testing grounds for mortals? Or are they the birthplace of potential? The womb of reality? Perhaps even the Origin itself?”
“I don’t think I’m qualified to answer.”
He chuckles wryly and folds his legs beneath him to sit next to me, staring at the glory made manifest. We share a hushed, solemn moment before Tem abruptly stands up and kicks me. “Show’s almost done. Prepare yourself for when it’s time to enter. The roiling energies of creation spawn creatures thick and fast. Be on guard.”
“Yes, Sir!” I say, jumping to my feet.
True to his prediction, the portal pulses like a living thing, like the beat of a heart, and the ripple clears away the iridescent light. A dark, shadowy path opens up before us, yawning like the maw of a magnificent monster, threatening to swallow us whole. I somehow expected our passage to be more like stepping through a mana barrier in town, but this is far grander.
Tem draws the narrow, elegant blade hidden inside his cane, grips my arm with his free hand, and plunges into the opening. He keeps a tight, reassuring grip on me as we go through the portal. Darkness closes around us, cold and hungry and unyielding.
Then we’re through, stumbling on uneven rocks the color of rust. The air is thick with the scent of old blood. Mana signatures bloom in my newly-developed sight, a riot of color that’s too overwhelming for me to track. Tem immediately pushes me down to the ground and covers my mouth, signaling me for silence.
An utterly enormous shape rumbles by, careening off rock formations and scoring deep grooves in the ground with its massive slabs of razor scales, each spike larger than the entire glassworks studio. Its carapace gleams a dull red, like most of the surrounding area, but it doesn’t seem to reflect any light, instead emitting a visceral, fiery warmth from within.
I tremble, keeping my mouth shut. Inwardly, I'm screaming, but manage to stay silent as I glance about to take in more surroundings. It's dark, which leaves me confused at first how I can perceive anything at all. I don’t see any illumination around us, but the entire place is pulsing with life and detail. I’ve never been so hyper aware of the world before, and it finally hits me that I’m flaring [Lesser Manasight] to supplement—or replace—my vision. The Skill is still new to me, which adds to my excitement.
“Steady,” Tem admonishes, his voice low. “Drop your mana use and wait for the behemoth to pass. You’ll need it before the end. Nothing anyone can do against a monster of that ranking.”
“B-behemoth? They’re real? Should we turn back?” I suggest, thinking of his promise about threat ratings. There’s no way that Tem’s entire team could even begin to fight such a monstrosity. They’re mage-killers, not premier monster-hunters.
Tem gives a curt shake of his head. “They won’t attack unless provoked, although it could inadvertently crush us, instantly killing us without realizing if it strays too close. Stay still and hope it moves on soon.”
I swallow, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. “We’re not a dozen paces inside. Don’t Rifts become more warped and dangerous the farther in you go?”
Tem keeps crouching down, but he turns to smile at me in a sad, knowing way. “Define ’farther’ in, though. The problem with measuring distance is that it requires a starting and stopping point. In here?” He breaks off, his voice growing strangely thick and hoarse with emotion, and slowly gestures around us. “Things lose their meaning. Distance stretches and compresses. Time spirals out of control, too; you never know if you’ll come back out the same month, let alone the same day or week. Rifts are just as dangerous to the mind as to the body.”
“Well, we’re as prepared as we can be on such short notice,” I reply more calmly than I feel. A suspicion worms its way up from the recesses of my consciousness, and I grip his upper arm, turning to look at Tem. “You knew this Rift would form here, you said? There’s no other explanation for why we headed into the deep wilderness for my first training mission. You need something from inside here—and you need my help to get it, or else you would have scared me off instead of helping me to prepare for a delve. What aren’t you telling me?”
“You read too much, kid.” He slips out of my grasp like smoke between my fingers, and I’m left empty-handed several paces away. The weird, alien way that Tem seems to slide through space suddenly doesn’t seem unnatural at all, and another piece of the puzzle snaps into place for me.
Tem must have seen the light of recognition in my eyes, since he holds a finger over his lips, inclining his head toward the behemoth floating far overhead. “Later.”
His simple response holds the weight of promise, so I nod and sit back down against the rocks to bide my time.
The behemoth is in no hurry to vacate the premises. It rotates lazily through the air, but it’s not truly flying; up and down are hard to quantify within the Rift, and it’s not using wings to hold itself aloft. Rather, the magic of the worlds seems to bend to its will, carrying it hither and thither at a whim.
I lace my fingers together and count my breathing, just so that I’ll have something to do to keep my mind off how much I want to track its movements with my Manasight. How often will I get a chance to observe a being of pure arcane mastery? I could learn secrets that Ezio can only dream of, peering into the dizzying depths of magic. But drawing the attention of the giant beast will likely prove fatal, so I let go of my disappointment and remind myself that I’m a crafter, not a mage. I’ll have other opportunities.
The seconds bleed into minutes—perhaps longer. My perception doesn’t seem reliable here. I don’t truly have a way to track time inside the Rift. But just as I fear that I’m going to die from sheer boredom-induced insanity, the behemoth lurches forward, crashing through stone and creating eddies of void in its wake, burrowing straight through what appears to be a solid mountain of granite. Soon, it disappears into the distance.
Tem flops down on a stone next to me and hisses sharply through his teeth. He slips a flask from within his cloak, pops the cork, and gulps it dry. Only now do I notice how hard his hands are shaking. “Congratulations on surviving, Nuri. You’ve received a glimpse of primordial powers not of this world. The number of people I’ve met who can say the same thing can be counted on one hand, and I don’t mean using [Scout] signs.”
“Hooray for us,” I say weakly. “But what else lurks down here?”
“Treasures unimaginable,” Tem replies brightly, stowing his empty flask and standing up in a smooth, confident motion. “Come, young apprentice, let’s make your fortune.”
If he’s in good spirits, then things can’t be too bad, I think with a slight smile. I scramble to follow Tem’s light, steady strides, which eat up far more ground than they should. Somehow, he’s moving just like Ezio, sliding across the ground like a skater over a frozen lake in winter. Again the similarities between the two strike me, and I file away the information to dig into later, when it’s safe.
Assuming I survive that long.
After a few moments of silence, I wet my lips and ask the question on my mind.
“How do you know where we’re going?” I finally ask, thankful that I can keep up with the demanding pace. I’m in good shape these days thanks to my training with Ember and Mikko, so even with Tem’s movement Skills, I’m not left behind. Still. What good is bodily training when magic can propel you across the world more easily?
Tem chuckles. “I’m an [Expert Scout]. Do you really think I’ve made it this far without picking up a Skill that alerts me to treasure? I don’t fancy risking life and limb for the pittance you’re paying me. So, I’ll make up the missing pay by cheating.”
I nod. “You’ve been in a lot of Rifts. Which came first: the movement Skill, or the practice of keeping one step ahead of danger?”
Tem turns to flash a dazzling smile at me. “I’m not untalented like you. I’ve got Skills for days, Nuri, and I barely had to work for them at all.”
I snicker, and he breaks into soft laughter. Even with the behemoth gone, neither of us have dared to make much noise. “You’re so easy to mess with, kid. I earned them.”
“I’d like to think I earned mine, too.”
Tem strokes his smooth-shaven chin. “You did. Nice work with the antidote. If I have any advice, it’s to stop fixating on the mistakes of the past. You lacked direction, so understandably you got nowhere. Look how quickly you picked up [Lesser Manasight] once you switched your focus to training yourself. Untold legions of [Mages] have searched for shortcuts to power, ways to circumvent training and mastering mana. Guess how many found them?”
“None,” I say, instantly grasping what he’s getting at. “That’s why Ezio’s lessons are so valuable to me. And yours, too. I appreciate what you’re doing on my behalf.”
“Smart lad,” Tem says approvingly. “Now, look sharp; we’re about to find what I hope is only the first of many valuable resources in this Rift. My Skill is pinging me incessantly.”
Nothing visibly changes in the barren landscape. We’re still surrounded by rust-red and mottled gray, a muted vista of the detritus of cast-off, decaying worlds. I tap into my new Skill, always excited to see that it’s still there, and a rush of white, gold, and blue fires burst into beautiful patterns in my sight. They pulse with untold possibilities.
I release the Skill, panting at the tug on my mana, and reconsider my judgment about the desaturated, dull world of the Rift. Perhaps what I’m seeing here isn’t death; perhaps it’s the promise of nascent worlds and endless growth. Tem did allude to that earlier. He mentioned an Origin, whatever that means.
My guide squats down next to a huge chunk of rock that seems indiscernible from the rest of the Rift, even when I pump additional mana into my Manasight. He arches an eyebrow, waiting for me to stop being stubborn, and pats the top of the stone lovingly. “Nuri, say hello to wealth beyond your wildest dreams. This is the biggest chunk of Rhodium ore I’ve ever seen in an ore, and it’s just sitting here in the open. We don’t even have to mine for it.”
I still don’t see anything special with the rock despite dumping nearly half of my mana pool into [Lesser Manasight]. I’m draining myself of mana too quickly, so I release the Skill. I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to push it past the “lesser” variety thanks to the harrowing circumstances of the Rift. In that case, I’ll probably reduce the mana costs while also growing my Capacity in the process. Win-win.
“What makes Rhodium valuable?” I ask Tem, reaching out my fingers and touching the rock in hopes that I’ll be able to discern more with my mana senses if I make contact. No such luck.
“You’d have to ask a [Material Scientist],” Tem says, shrugging. “All I know is that it’s the rarest and most valuable metal around. By the time it’s smelted and refined, we can sell it off bit by bit to Master [Alchemists] and [Jewelers] at exorbitant prices—it’s over five times as expensive as gold.”
“I’ve never even heard of it.”
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“That’s because you’re a [Glassworker], not a [Metalworker]. Ask your brother when we get out; I’ll bet his eyes will bulge out of his head when you tell him what we found.”
“Noted.” I nudge it with my boot. The rugged boulder doesn’t budge. “How are we getting it out of here if it’s as heavy as gold? Or are you hiding more Skills from me?”
“I have my ways,” Tem says mysteriously, wiggling his fingers at me like a two-bit village charlatan.
I brighten at the thought of getting answers to my questions. “Is that why you move like a void beast when we’re sparring? You’re using some sort of spatial manipulation, but I can’t see or track the mana. Is it just a difference between our levels, or are you fueling the movements with something else instead of mana?”
Tem drops the act, but his satisfied smile tells me he’s still up to something. “What do you know? Ezio was right. You’re a lot sharper than you look under that goofy exterior.”
Whatever snarky response I’m cooking up dies on my lips as the ground starts to vibrate beneath us. Clicking sounds, like a pack of dogs running across a wood floor, wash over us with such volume that I clap my hands over my ears for relief. It doesn’t help.
Tem grabs the boulder and lifts it up from the bedrock. It’s only a few inches, and his slender body is straining under the weight, but I still stare like I’m witnessing a miracle. No one should be that strong. His body is shaking with the effort. Grunting, he pushes on empty air, and the gigantic rock disappears with a faint pop.
“There. Can’t leave that behind. Now start running!” He grabs my arm and takes off sprinting, dragging me far faster than I could ever run on my own.
Now my training proves insufficient. Despite all my hard work, I can’t keep up with the speed of an experienced [Scout] in the Second Threshold.
“Don’t stop!” he calls, as though I harbor any foolish intentions of getting up close and personal what’s making the horrendous sound.
All around us the world is twisting, spiraling in on itself as the space collapses in sparks and static, but Tem leads us true. He dodges around falling stalactites, gliding across the broken earth like a surfer on the waves. With a surge of power, he knocks aside chunks of nothingness that manifest in our path, each emanating a terrible, visceral hunger.
“Need to take cover! I can’t keep up this pace forever, not if I’m going to bring you with me,” Tem shouts in my ears, but I can barely hear him over the rush of wind. We angle toward an outcropping and crest a tall hill that springs up out of nowhere, and he flings us both down to hide behind a gnarled mass of rocks.
I lean to the right and peek down the cliff face, curious what creatures are pursuing us. I suck in a breath and press into the shallow lip of the rock that’s covering us, trying to process what I’m seeing. Blood-red crabs are pouring forth like a flood of thick, chitinous blood, sweeping over the ground and breaking apart rocks as they rampage. The angry, churning mass looks like they’ve spawned straight from the mouth of the abyss.
Some are small enough that I could probably pick them up in my hands, but many are as big as bulls. Some of the crabs loom even larger than the glassworks itself, however, and they snap up the smaller ones with their huge, knobby claws, cracking them open and devouring the soft pink flesh with savage bites.
“What are those things?” I whisper tersely to Tem.
He just shrugs. “I’m a [Scout], not a [Zookeeper]. But it doesn’t take an expert to know that they’ll kill you.”
I grunt in agreement, watching in equal parts fascination and horror as the crabs smash their way through the landscape. Their jagged armored carapaces bash through rock spires with ease, and I breathe out in relief as the stampede veers away from us, demolishing hills in a wide swath to our left.
Tem taps his chin. He speaks up again, keeping his voice so low that I can barely hear him at all. “Think they’re Crimson Crabs, if I recall.”
Once the noise fades away and the ground stops shaking, Tem pops up from our hiding spot and saunters along a switchback path, heading down the sheer cliff face.
“Tem!” I hiss. “Where are you going? What if they come back? Shouldn’t we hide?”
He shakes his head at me. “You see the size of those legs? I reckon a crab’s a crab. Bet they make good eating.”
I laugh, letting out some of the tension, and start the treacherous trek down the steep hill to join him in his quest for crab legs. “You’re more and more like Mikko the longer I know you. How many people get to see this side of you, Tem?”
“Not many,” he admits. “I have to play the mysterious detective, the lethal assassin, or the dignified courtier. Nice to just get away and mess around for a while.”
We pick our way down the hill, but the longer we climb, the farther away we seem to get. I finally clear my throat and bring it up to Tem, but he simply shrugs and keeps walking like it’s completely normal. “Can’t rush things in a Rift. We’ll get there—or not.”
“Meanwhile, we’re rich, if that big ugly rock is as valuable as you claim. Why not just get out now, while we still can?”
Tem misses a step at last. He turns to face me, uncharacteristically grim. “What makes you think that we can get out?”
“We could go back through the portal, right?”
“That only works for Lesser Rifts,” Tem says, his voice taut. “In a Greater Rift? We need to find the exit—or make our own.”
My breath catches in my throat. “You’re saying that I’d be trapped in here if I came in on a whim?”
“Yes. That’s why I advised us to go back and prepare. We couldn’t saunter in and expect things to go well once I realized it was a Greater variety.”
“Good to know,” I grunt.
I don’t say anything further, but I’m beset with a sudden fear of never escaping the Rift. Combined with the adrenaline of our recent near-survival, and I’m more shaken than I’d like to admit.
“You’ll be fine with me here,” Tem says. “Keep working hard, Nuri. Now get ready to fight; we’ve got a monster incoming.”
I shrug off my pack, setting it down for better mobility, and stand near Tem. We both take up a loose ready stance.
Something lights up in my [Lesser Manasight]. Mere heartbeats later, a dull, heavy mass slams into the rocks beside us, kicking up a cloud of dust. We spin to face the new arrival, and Tem shoves me out of the way a second before thick jaws split the air where I was just standing.
Despite his warning, I’m too slow.
Yellow, vertical eyes gleam dully from within a huge square head. Spikes and ridges jut out from all over the red and black striped lizard, and when it opens its mouth to roar, a purple tongue lashes back and forth like a barbed whip.
I tumble backward, putting distance between us, and draw my dagger. There’s only one monster, and Tem has drawn his sword, which means it’s time for us to fight. That’s why he told me it was incoming. This time, I’m going to prove my worth. I’m tired of running.
The lizard screeches and flares an enormous yellow and purple frill around its neck. Its tongue lashes out again, spraying drops of sizzling poison, but Tem bends out of the way with one of his trademark, reality-warping dodges. He ripostes as soon as he’s clear of the impact, stabbing the tongue and retreating in one swift, fluid movement.
I draw deeply on my [Heat Manipulation] Skill, although my total mana is only back up to around three-quarters of the way full. The air around the lizard glistens as residual moisture flash-freezes, and it recoils from the coat of rime building up on its nostrils and eyes, shaking its head and snorting out tiny sparks of lightning and fire.
“Good! Freeze its legs if you can, and I’ll dispatch it,” Tem calls out in encouragement. He sounds more cheerful at the prospect of fighting the monster than anyone in his right mind should. He dashes in, scoring a stab on the muscular foreleg. Bright purple ichor spews across the ground, painting the drab rocks in a colorful array of violence.
I immediately turn my attention to the open wound, dropping the temperature in a tight, controlled area around the puncture. The energy flows of mana in the Greater Rift are sluggish, as though they’re far away and barely able to hear my voice of command, but the training with the heat-resistant glass orbs pays off. The wound freezes over and the creature’s leg gives way.
It collapses into the dirt with a pitiful shriek, and Tem flashes forward, slitting its throat with a single, smooth draw of his blade.
“Excellent control! Mana manipulation isn’t easy in a Rift at first—particularly not out here on the periphery. Deeper in, when the density picks up, you’ll have a better time of it. Good work on our first kill, Nuri. You’ve earned the core on this one.”
My mind blanks for a moment. “A . . . a beast core? They only form in Gold ranks and above from what I know. You said we wouldn’t run into any down here!”
Tem shrugs helplessly. “Oops. Sometimes life has more exciting plans for us. I didn’t set out to lie to you.”
I cross my arms and stare him down. “That’s the most bald faced lie I’ve heard all day.”
“I can one-up it with an even better lie if you’d like,” Tem offers cheerfully. “Did you know that I have a Skill for throwing people off track?”
“It’s not a sign of virtue,” I protest.
Tem frowns. He looks up from cutting into the gory, bright-purple carcass, sniffs at me with haughty airs, and wipes his hands on his pants. “But it could be! A facile mind never stops imagining!”
I roll my eyes. “C’mon. The ability to tell imagination from reality—fact vs fiction—is what separates men from boys. A toddler who makes up stories is cute. A grown man who does the same is pathological.”
“I prefer practical. Or political.” He winks at his own low-hanging joke. “But then, that is precisely why I left the capital.”
I chuckle at the venerable [Scout]. “Doll it up all you like. You misled me about the threat level.”
“Telling the truth is likely to earn trust. My method will earn gold. Which do you prefer?” With a soft, squelching sound and a spray of purple blood, Tem tears away an already-rotting chunk of fat and tissue, tossing it aside where it sizzles on the red-rock ridge and soon starts to decay entirely.
His words echo in my mind: Time works differently in a Greater Rift.
Humming to himself in satisfaction, Tem digs around inside with his blade. He pumps his fist in triumph when he taps the end of his sword against something solid. “Tada,” he sings, and drops the weapon to reach inside the body with both hands. A moment of grunting and tugging later, and he pulls a dull, misshapen rock from deep inside the lizard beast and presents it to me with a flourish.
I scrunch up my nose at the steaming pile of viscera wrapping around the supposed core of the monster. “How do I know this is real?”
Tem tosses it to me, and I grab it reflexively, yelping at the hot, corrosive touch. The core is shockingly heavy, but I hang on despite the scorching pulses of power. Tem snickers at my uneasiness, and even has the temerity to wink at me. “A gift for when you learn to imbue with mana. Go on, examine it in your new mana senses.”
I shrug off my cloak and wrap it around the still-smoking core. Even without activating my [Lesser Manasight], it’s clear that it contains potent concentrations of mana. When I dare to tap into my new Skill, it lights up like the sun on a cloudless day. “Imbuing sounds exciting, but I’m not sure that will ever happen at this point.”
“Knock it off, Nuri. You’re young and reasonably talented. Fake self-deprecation ain’t a good look after assisting with a Gold-ranked monster takedown in the middle of a Rift. You handled yourself well just now. Freezing the battlefield offers intriguing possibilities.”
“It’s not really a put down,” I say, scratching at my beard as I try to find the right words to express myself. “I’m just not sure that I have the patience to keep working on my crafting skills after watching you dismantle monsters. It feels like a waste of time. Fighting is more fun.”
Tem wipes off his blade, shifts around his gear, and plops down on a rock. Somehow, he manages to make the stone look more like a throne than an awkward perch. “How many old men have you seen in adventuring teams?”
“Not a lot,” I admit. “I get it, I’m safer this way. Everyone knows it’s a young man’s game to run toward danger. Adventure isn’t easy.”
Tem points toward himself. “Ah, news to me!”
I chuckle. “Right, the strong survive.”
“You’re half right,” Tem says. His voice grows contemplative. “Some of my friends, even those more talented than I am, didn’t make it. I don’t have anyone from my original team left. But how many older workers are at the glassworks studio?”
“A dozen or more,” I say, seeing where he’s going with the comparison. “But it’s still not a guarantee. My own parents died off when I was young. They picked up the mana plague when it swept through the region, and by the time the [Healers] synthesized an effective cure, it was too late for them. Safe professions didn’t keep them safe from the rest of life.”
“Still better odds,” Tem says mildly.
We both grow quiet for a moment, lost in our worlds of regret and hopes. I stuff the core into my bag, more excited than I’m willing to admit at the prospect of using it to craft a powerful artifact. Combined with Ezio’s proposed glass armor, I could probably get into a prestigious guild even without a combat class.
“If survival is your only goal, sure,” I allow. Tem looks up, his dancing brown eyes intense and hawklike, tracking my every movement as though he can see straight through me. “I’m not cut out for a boring existence. I want more than glass and the daily grind from life. I’m not afraid of work, but I’m terrified of wasting my life.”
Tem snorts. “You’re what, twenty?”
“As of last summer.”
“Commit to one thing for a few years, Nuri. Hit your First Threshold. Improve your mana control. Evolve your Class and add to your Skills. And whatever you do, don’t give half-hearted effort and then complain that it didn’t work out after all.
“If you put in work—real work—and Ezio and Ember sign off, then I’ll take you under my wing and help you gain a combat Class at the First Threshold.”
“What, just like that? No signing up for the Army, like Cassius offered?”
“No strings attached,” Tem says solemnly. “I’d be happy to assist. You’ve fought hard at every occasion, despite making mistakes and almost getting yourself killed a few times. I admire that kind of grit. Most artisans wouldn’t have come out here in the first place, let alone kept their wits while fighting off a jaguar. Nor would they help against a Rift monster. You’re all right, Nuri.”
“Thanks,” I say, blushing at the praise. “Shouldn’t I switch as early as possible, though? A few years of training could make a big difference.” I falter and trail off at Tem’s dubious look.
“Making your own tools is an underrated talent. You don’t have to worry if you can trust your gear, or wonder if someone sold the information about your supposedly secret weapon or escape plan. Plus, you’ll have an opportunity to sell to people like me. You want to play the long game? Stay the course with your crafting. I promise you won’t regret it.”
I mull over his words, nodding as they sink in. “Sounds wise. Thanks for the advice.”
“Yep. Now, get moving. We’ve got a long way to go, Nuri. This is only the beginning.”