Theo stood on the walls of Broken Tusk as the day faded, expecting lightning to strike at any moment. The Season of Fire had been especially tame for rain, compared to the Season of Blooms. But the thunder he expected came in the form of demonic assassins, the sudden arrival of some errant prince to the Qavelli throne, and so on. But it didn’t come. The sound of peaceful insects drift in from the swamp. People chatted below about their day, and what they planned to do tomorrow. No lightning came. No thunder boomed in the distance. The silence was almost more unsettling.

Both deals the alliance had struck in the past week were profitable. Squeak, from the lizard-folk, forged a deal concerned more with culture than profit. Pogo, in the underground below, had her sights set on protecting the Nameless City. Things were going well without hitches for once. But tomorrow would see Fenian off to something no one in town could understand.

The Elf’s journey into Balkor’s dead realm would have been impossible without Xol’sa. The extra-planar Elf had taken a hit for the team by prying into Tero’gal. Theo and Tresk had come to understand the error of his approach, but had yet to tell him their solution. They were both waiting until after Fenian’s departure to invite the wizard into their realm. If a person were to force themself upon a realm, the patrons would shift their gaze to them. But if that same person were forced to traverse the Bridge, plopped into a realm by an interdiction event, everything was by the book.

That list of strange, unwritten rules seemed to grow by the day. Navigating it was a minefield unto itself. Theo pushed off from the wall, then descended into the town below. Something in his chest told him things would change soon enough. The world would become a better place sooner than he expected, but the form it took was still unknown. He skipped dinner entirely, and went straight to bed. Without Tresk or Alex.

The Dreamwalk was a place that required all participants to be present. The alchemist found himself in an in-between place of thick shadows and heavy air. Tresk had done this once before. She didn’t enjoy the experience, but Theo found himself at peace. Aarok wanted to kick off a monster wave tomorrow after Fenian departed. Fortunately for the Elf, Azrug volunteered to watch the enchanted Karatan with the help of Miana.

Theo had time to reflect on his own in that strange place. Broken Tusk was a very defensible location. It was bordered on the north and south by impassable mountains. To the west, there was the sprawling swamp. Only the east provided an avenue for attack, and even that would leave a sieging force exposed to the withering effects of the magical towers. Added to the deadly mix was Throk’s guns, which would be completed soon enough. The alchemist had seen to that through the use of piles of gold coins. But as ever, it was the sky he feared most.

The scene shifted without warning. Theo found himself standing on the eastern battlements of the town, gazing off into the rolling fields. Tresk and Alex stood next to him, both holding postures of impatience.

“Couldn’t have waited for us?”

“I needed a minute to think.”

Penny for your thoughts?

Theo explained what had been going on in his mind. Not just about Broken Tusk, but the Southlands Alliance. The Southlands Region of Qavell was very easy to defend. Just like the town itself. Everything from Broken Tusk to Gronro-Dir was encased in mountainous regions. The only access to the sea between the two towns was the harbor and beach. As always, it wasn’t the land, the sea, or the underground that the alchemist feared. It was the sky.

The alchemist shifted the scene, bringing them to the walls of Gronro. It was an old memory of Tresk’s, something she had gained by scouting the region. He would never get over how defensible the area was. A path, perhaps wide enough for a single merchant’s cart to traverse, connected the town to the northern mountain passage. Crags stabbed skyward in all other directions. It was a nightmare for any assaulting parties. Especially the undead, who often tumbled into the chasm below.

An imagined airship appeared above the town, looming among the wispy clouds. “Even an airship would have trouble getting here,” Theo said, gesturing to scoot the ship along. “Operating at high altitudes was a problem on Earth. I’m assuming this is no different.”

“Nah, you’re missing the point there,” Tresk said, swiping her hand through the air. The undead stirred below. Ribbons of sickly energy rose into the sky. “Remember what dad said? Magic is an airship’s worst enemy.”

“Interesting.” Theo imagined a map of the area in his mind. Assuming Qavell could launch an airship from the capital, they would have to run a course to the east. It would be a horrid scenario, exposing them to even more of the undead. “The closer they get to Gardreth, the worse it gets. More magic coming from the Fallen Kingdom.”

“Yeah. They’ll go north,” Tresk said with a sharp nod. She traced her finger through the air, making a wide circle before clicking her tongue. “Then around and over the sea.”

Benton’s people wouldn’t act against the crown, Alex said. They’re hiding right now. Waiting for the curse to lift.

“But who would take the reins after Karasan dies?” Theo asked. He shook his head, breaking loose thoughts away. “Of course, he has descendants. Doesn’t he? Kids?”

Tresk nodded. “I’ve heard about them. Daughters and sons.”

“So, if Fenian is scheming with the patrons… Karasan is likely scheming, too.”

Reasonable.

The scene shifted once again. Tresk transported them to the piers outside of the harbor, looking out over the expansive ocean. “This is where they’ll strike.”

Theo couldn’t help himself. He laughed, gesturing to both towers. Two rail guns appeared on the towers, then an airship in the sky. “This is what I felt. I knew we would run into problems with the administrators soon. I felt it.”

“You think they’ll try to stay your hand?” Tresk said, cackling. “Good luck!”

“We’ll need to override them. We should slip the Adventurer’s Guild an order to fire on sight when we get the guns set up. Highest payload.”

“No mercy!” Tresk shouted.

Agreed, Alex said, honking and shooting a small ball of fire. So long as the airship comes within the time we expect, we can assume that it is Qavell. After Fenian leaves, the airship should take about a week to arrive.

“How do you figure?” Theo asked.

Alex seemed to shrug her wings. Just estimating based on assumed speed and the distance.

Theo turned his attention to the airship above. He had imagined a flying ship, like the ones Laedria created. That was the most reasonable assumption, based on Throk’s findings. An airship needed to be light enough to fly, and would likely rely on magical defenses rather than physical ones. The alchemist imagined a payload of his improvised explosives, potions that took advantage of the volatile nature of Drogramathi alchemy. Firing only two shots, the rail guns annihilated the airship. Twin explosions issued at the same time, reducing the imagined hunk of wood to nothing but ash.

There were other payloads they could send, though. Theo dragged his mind away from war crimes, and simply focused on the fastest way to down the ship. Drogramathi Iron slugs warded with [Dragon’s Dance] would be the most effective. But he didn’t discount the idea of using [Anti-mage] infused loads, either. That required experimentation. Instead of running off to train, both Tresk and Alex stayed behind to help him create new slugs. He needed the Marshling’s willpower to extract the properties of the [Mage’s Bane] flower, turning it into a poem for his [Toru’aun Mage’s Core].

Throk had refined the firing of his rail guns down to a simple process. The sled that launched the shot was the most important to Theo’s application. The alchemist imagined a Drogramathi Iron slug, rifled to make it spin better in the air. He then sat down with his companions to mess with his new skill, [Linked Wards]. Unlike the regular spell crafting system, linking wards together had more to do with creativity than following a pattern.

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“Have you ever tried to put two wards on the same thing?” Tresk asked.

“I haven’t,” Theo said, looking down at the hunk of purple-black metal in his lap.

The group spent several hours experimenting. They all felt the same goal form in their minds. The desire to combine the [Anti-mage] property with [Dragon’s Dance]. The two poems were so different, it seemed impossible to get them to work together. Both Tresk and Alex drew on Theo’s knowledge of Toru’aun’s secret language to create new tales. But something finally stuck. They realized that, like the second tier wards, there was an inter-linking of words required to get the [Linked Wards] skill to work. The alchemist only knew it was working when the skill spun in his chest, singing a happy song as he applied a new ward to the metal shot.

A faint sheen of chromatic energy rippled across the Drogramathi Iron slug. Everyone leaned in to inspect the effect.

[Dragon’s Antimagic]

[Advance Ward] [Linked Ward]

Creates a reactive field of [Dragon’s Antimagic]. Field only activates when enemies are detected in range.

Trigger:

Detect Enemy

Duration:

5 days.

The system loved generating vague references with wards. They drilled deeper, inspecting the [Dragon’s Antimagic] effect mentioned in the description.

[Dragon’s Antimagic]

The dragon’s dance combines with the anti-magical effects of the anti-mage property. This effect creates a field of anti-magic that lashes out in a violent dance of death.

Effects:

Creates a sphere of blades that deals massive damage to all targets, living or otherwise.

Targets hit by the blades cannot use magic for one minute.

Any non-living targets affected by the magical restriction will be unable to operate for the allotted time.

“That’s an anti-airship weapon right there,” Tresk said, hooting with excitement.

Not only was the effect monstrously powerful, but it came with a ruthless slug. The ward’s field would react when it came in contact with the ship. But after that? The slug would do immense damage to the vessel, rendering it useless. If the blades of death didn’t tear it apart, the supersonic hunk of Drogramathi Iron would. Theo ran simulations, summoning and shooting down airships with ease.

“This is perfect,” Theo said. He held up a Drogramathi Iron slug, testing its weight in his hand. “Throk already has a small arsenal of these.”

“Well, that’s what we’re doing tomorrow,” Tresk said with a laugh. “Maybe you could make me some more poisons.”

Tresk was already using his best poison. There might be improvements he could make, but that was doubtful. She was disappointed when he told her. But it was more important to practice his wards on the towers near the piers.

“Once I start my hybridization program with the reagents, I’ll come up with a better poison,” Theo said.

That seemed to satisfy her enough. After settling the matter, the group envisioned more scenarios of attack. They found holes in the town’s defenses, and made notes to plug those up. None of them felt as though their paranoia was unwarranted. There were people out to get them, and it was important to brace themselves before the attack came. Not after.

The Dreamwalk ended as it often did. Theo felt himself being tugged out of the imaginary realm, sent hurtling into his comfortable bed. As always, he awoke to find Tresk already scampering out of bed. The scent of cooked meat drifted up the stairs, causing his stomach to rumble. Groggily, he found his way down the stairs and into the dining area. Fenian was already there, tapping his fingers on the table nervously. He might not care to show it, but the Elf was worried about what happened next.

After breakfast, there were a few meetings requesting Theo’s attendance. He declined them, and prepared to send Fenian packing. Aarok and Luras gathered in the manor, just in case anything unexpected happened. Alex jumped into the Elf’s lap, preening herself as Theo and Tresk prepared to depart for Tero’gal.

“Remember to talk to Uz,” Fenian said, nodding to himself. It was the most nervous the alchemist had ever seen him. “I have faith that you’ll interdict me correctly, but…”

“We can talk to Drogramath if you need,” Theo said.

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’m ready.”

Theo shrugged, grabbing Tresk’s hand. “See ya in a sec.”

The pair fell through the realms together. They slipped through the fabric of the mortal plane, then passed over the bridge. Tresk urged them to the surface of that shadowy spot, and they both landed on it without issue. Without prompting, the Queen of the Bridge of Shadows emerged from nowhere. As always, her face was a mask of impenetrable shadows.

“Blah, blah,” Uz’Xulven said. “Yes, this should work. No, I don’t know the details.”

“I’d be more comfortable if you were here as a backup,” Theo said. “Can you catch him if he falls?”

“That’s the plan, anyway,” Uz’Xulven said, pacing on the bridge. “Balkor’s realm has been more active than normal, so I assume this should work. His dead soul can feel the king coming. Pray the king doesn’t know that this is a trap.”

Theo wanted to trust Fenian and Uz’Xulven. But he didn’t. He steered himself and Tresk away from the Bridge, even as the queen shouted after them. A moment later they landed in Tero’gal, among the smiling souls that had taken residence there. It only took a single thought, but the world shifted slightly. The alchemist summoned the Arbiter with little effort, catching the sandstone-colored gaze of Khahar.

“It will work,” Khahar said, striding over to place a comforting hand on Theo’s shoulder.

“Seems like a plan you could have done yourself, Khahar,” Tresk said, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. “Oh, unless you made a rule that you have to follow. So, you tied your own hands. Hah!”

“Something like that,” Khahar said, smiling. “Are you going to bring him here before sending him to Balkor’s domain?”

Tresk shrugged. “My plan was to send him straight there.”

“You can do that?” Khahar asked, seeming doubtful.

“Oh, yeah. I bet I could toss him into your domain if I wanted. Watch this!” Tresk scrunched up her face, then grunted. “Nevermind. Can’t interdict the Arbiter.”

Theo pat the Marshling on the shoulder. “It was worth a try. Why don’t you bring him here first. So he can see our realm.”

Khahar’s expression didn’t evade Theo’s notice. This wasn’t a normal thing to do. Perhaps the power he and Tresk had gained was outside of his expectations. The alchemist was certain that interdiction was now a banned practice. But Yuri had placed a loophole in that rule, allowing them to do it. Why? Because they weren’t patrons. They were mortals who commanded a fully realized realm.

“Alrighty. Here he comes,” Tresk said, closing her eyes.

Theo felt Tresk wrap her willpower around the realm. Her senses spread through realities, snaking between places until she found Alex on the mortal plane. To the alchemist’s surprise, she grabbed both the goose and the Elf, then tugged. “Twofer!” she shouted, yanking like a fisherman hooking into a large fish.

It was the most impressive interdiction even Theo had ever witnessed. He always considered dimensional travel to include one important fact. One needed to pass over the Bridge of Shadows to reach the realms. That was a fact lodged firmly in his mind. But as Alex and Fenian appeared in Tero’gal, he realized that Tresk skipped that step entirely. She made a hole in the void large enough to drag both of them through, then mended it shut like a surgeon closing a wound.

Tresk placed her hands on her hips, wiggling her eyebrows. “Huh? Pretty cool, right?”

Fenian looked around, his mouth hanging open. “Not exactly what I expected,” he said, licking his lips. “This isn’t Balkor’s domain.”

“This is Tero’gal,” Theo said.

Fenian’s eyes dragged over the scene, then locked onto Khahar. He bowed his head.

“Tresk is great at not following the plan,” Khahar said with a sigh. “How long can you hold him here, Marshling?”

“Heh. You gods with your rules. He’s here forever. Until we reverse-interdict him back to the mortal plane, or he takes the bridge.” Tresk’s smile beamed.

“That shouldn’t be possible,” Khahar said.

“Possible-schmosible. I did it. Deal with it.”

Theo studied Fenian as Tresk bickered with Khahar. Spirits who trespassed in a realm broke down if they weren’t invited. The Elf’s body showed no sign of wear. He was wrapped in an aura of protection, something provided by the Marshling. She had dipped into the system and given him a pass to be in Tero’gal forever. An interesting turn of events. As if punctuating his thoughts, an icy doorway opened. Benton stepped out, holding a plate with cookies.

“Anyone hungry?” he asked. His eyes darted around, then went wide. “Oh! A mortal? Arbiter, is that a mortal? Should I go?”

“Stay,” Khahar commanded, his voice rough as gravel. “I’d like some of your tea, Benton. And a few cookies.”

“Right,” Fenian said. He looked more nervous than ever. “So, am I going?”

“I think he should stay for tea and cookies,” Tresk said. “Dad always said not to travel on an empty stomach.”

“Agreed,” Theo said, clapping a hand over Fenian’s shoulder and grinning. “Maybe a few games of poker. Why not?”