Grant awoke to the feeling of sunlight on his face. As usual, his immediate thoughts upon waking were occupied solely by the numerous revelations of the night before. He was fairly certain that he now had full recollection of the conversation that Ki had hidden from him, or at least the vast majority. Now they had been unlocked, each memory fragment that had been revealed over the past few weeks fit together like puzzle pieces, allowing him to more easily peruse them and ponder the entire magical and multiversal conspiracy that had been revealed to him.
To start with, the most recent new information was actually rather worrying. The idea that the Numen could subconsciously influence their hosts was unwelcome news, and Grant’s first thought was whether or not Ki had begun to change him without his knowledge, despite the god’s assurances that he hadn’t and couldn’t. After all, he had become accustomed to the circumstances of his new world quite quickly, and now, just a few weeks after his life was turned upside down, he didn’t bat an eyelid at shadow cat monsters, flat earths and fairy worlds, just to name a few of the most recent encounters he had had with the supernatural. Was that normal? Was that a result of his mind being conditioned by years of fantasy media and the resilience of the human spirit, or was that the result of the mental projection of a god manipulating his mind for nefarious purposes? He didn’t know, and ultimately, he couldn’t ever know for sure. He recalled that Ki had demonstrated early on in their relationship that lies were impossible to hide when speaking mind to mind like they did, but thinking about it more, how could he know that for sure? The more he had learned about the Numen and magic in general, the more he realised both how little he knew, and how little he could truly appreciate the depths of power available to the former gods of Earth. They could create life, manipulate space, terraform the Earth, and apparently even create entire sub-dimensions with totally different laws of physics. Was lying to a twenty-year-old really beyond the bounds of what was possible?
Unfortunately, almost regardless of the truth, he really didn’t have much choice in what to do. Whether or not he was being manipulated, he had seen and experienced enough to believe that Ki was telling the truth about most things, the Numen and the need to stop them escaping at the forefront of that list. After all, he had made a good point last night - or in the memory from last night, rather - if he wanted to, Ki could have taken control of him on his first day here. Also, why even bother talking to him at all if he could directly manipulate his mind? Well… there could be a multitude of reasons that Grant simply failed to comprehend, but, ultimately, the choice was to trust Ki or not. Put like that, honestly, the choice was rather simple. Almost every aspect of society, on some level, operated on the assumption that people could be trusted until proven otherwise, and Ki had done nothing to deserve this level of scrutiny and suspicion, and had only helped Grant as much as he was able. So, he would trust in Ki’s words. If Ki broke that trust, Grant would act, but until that time, he would have faith in his companion.
Having made this decision, Grant breathed out a sigh of relief, and realised for the first time how tense his thoughts had made him. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his neck felt like an iron bar. This is why I never wanted to go into politics, he thought ruefully, steadying his breathing and slowly beginning to stretch his neck muscles loose again. And why I always hated those damn party games where you always have to worry about someone stabbing you in the back. It would be so much simpler if everyone just told the damn truth.
Regardless, with that issue resolved for now, Grant moved on to the next big revelation from the previous night. The Final Door, that oh-so-important goal of the Forsaken, the thing that had tantalised them for decades… was a lie. No, worse than a lie - it was a trap. A false hope, designed purely to string along the Numen and keep their efforts focused on it instead of other methods of escape. Grant was fine with that, really, as he believed Ki’s accounts of the monstrosities committed by the alien gods, and creatures as despicable as them deserved to have their hopes crushed. No, what Grant disliked was that the same desire to return home had also infected the Forsaken, not to mention the dozens or hundreds of people that had preceded them. Ki had said that the drive to find the Final Door and escape came mostly from the subconscious influence of their Sources, but Grant had his doubts about that. While that may have been a part of it, he was pretty sure that the Forsaken would be just as desperate to return to Earth as the Numen at least. In fact, he felt quite certain that if he didn’t have Ki, and his unusual insights into their situation and their plan to escape, he would have been one of the most determined to find a way to get back home. The idea that he would never see his family and friends again, never be able to see a movie, read a book, play a game… it would have driven him mad. Then there were people that had not just left behind friends, but children. Yes, they would by and large have passed on by now given how old some of the Forsaken were, but Grant had difficulty imagining that any motivation or drive the Numen possessed would exceed that of a parent trying to find a way home to their child in those initial years of separation. So to imagine Kyra, or Fyodor, or Lei or Tamiko discovering that the Final Door was just a trick dangled in front of them… hundreds of years of drive and belief would come crashing down around them. Grant remembered how upset he had been when, a few years ago, he had spent two months trying to crack this online puzzle that was meant to be a chance to win tickets to the premiere of a movie he really wanted to see, only to find out afterwards that the company running the promotion wasn’t real, and the whole thing had just been a giant scam. The knowledge that he had wasted a large part of those two months trawling through online hints and discussion boards and reading up on code-breaking, all for nothing… even thinking back about it now made his blood boil. If it had taken years, or decades, or centuries? He couldn’t imagine how much worse the devastation would be.
Grant sighed. He had been wondering for a while now just how much of the truth of the Vault and the Numen he would be able to eventually reveal to the people he now considered friends. He hoped that, someday, he would be able to tell them the truth, as he thought it might bring them some kind of closure, but now… he wasn’t sure they should ever know. Maybe Kyra, as she had only been trapped here for a few years, but the others… they would be crushed. And, while he thought they were good people, if he told them the truth, that they had been toyed with and lied to by someone they trusted, and he then unleashed them with all their powers on an unsuspecting Earth… well, classic comic book villains in the making right there.
Grant sighed again as he rolled out of bed, burying his face in his palms and trying to take deep, steady breaths. His position was… complicated, to say the least. Thoughts flew around his head, concerns and questions thrown up all over the place, building and building. He felt his anxiety begin to rise, doubts creeping in alongside the questions to send his stress skyrocketing to new levels. He was a fucking uni student, for crying out loud. Nothing in his perfectly ordinary, standard Earth life had remotely prepared him for the decisions he was having to make, and the responsibilities he was shouldering. Did the others deserve to know the truth? Was that their right? Who was he to be making decisions about what a 200-year-old sorcerer had a right to know? Then again, did he even know the truth? Was Ki lying to him? What if Ki was the bad guy, and this whole dimension was actually built to contain him? What if the Earth really was flat? After all, this one was. Why the fuck not?
Grant screamed into his hands in frustration. Every time he thought he had a grasp on his situation, Ki would throw another curveball and make him begin to question everything again. Although, to be fair, this time it was really just Grant’s insecurities and worries making him question everything, as as best as he could tell, Ki had just been straightforward with him from the start. But that led him back down the circular question of if he actually was being straightforward, or if he was hiding something, or if - No! Grant thought furiously. I already decided to trust him. Don’t throw yourself into another spiral. Just fucking pull yourself together and move the fuck on, Grant. Make a list. Priorities. Priority number one: find the Final Door. Priority number two: practise and get stronger. Priority number three: protect the others from what would break their hearts. Priority number four: Figure out who Muirenn really is, although for now proceed on the assumption that it’s Bernhard. Priority number five: … kill her, I guess. Which… well, that’s a whole other kettle of fish. Plenty of stressors and things to deal with before I’m even remotely ready to consider what it’s like to kill someone. Or if I even need to - who knows, maybe there’s another way. One that an immortal god hasn’t thought of. Sure, I can probably come up with something.
Internally ranting to himself was a shockingly cathartic process. Not to mention the beauty of lists - even if some of the items on the list were… substantial, to say the least, it still felt nicer to have them just taking up a single bullet point. Grant closed his eyes and breathed in, letting the air fill his lungs, focusing on letting his fears and worries just wash away as he breathed out again. He snapped his eyes open, nodded firmly, and stood up to go greet the others
“Morning!” Kyra said brightly as Grant walked into Ayodele’s kitchen. Lei and Tamiko were seated with her at the same table they used last night, now laden with fruits, dried meats, cheeses and some kind of herby sauce that Grant didn’t recognise but smelled divine. Fyodor was off in the corner, chatting animatedly with Ayodele and an Aziza that Grant didn’t recognise. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Fyodor seemed to be utterly delighted at the conversation
“Good morning,” he returned the greeting as he sat down at the empty place setting and began to pile his plate with food. “Sorry I’m a bit late, rough night. Did I miss anything?”
“No, just Fyodor falling in love,” said Lei, tilting her head in the Russian’s direction. “Ayodele brought over some kind of shaman-slash-recordkeeper type of person, and Fyodor immediately glommed onto them and began bombarding them with questions. He reckons that the magic present in this world is something way beyond what anyone in Sanctuary would be capable of. Not just the wards, but there’s a whole bunch of ambient magic that is necessary to allow a flat world to function. He told us a few minutes ago that he thinks that this world could hold a bunch of important information about how all these worlds were made, and how we can escape. To be honest, I didn’t really follow half of what he was saying, that high level magic stuff was always more than I bothered to learn about.”
“Yes, you were always too busy playing your special version of dress up,” Tamiko smirked.
Lei shrugged, unbothered. “Guilty. It’s very fun, learning to be someone else.”
Tamiko rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun to tease,” she complained.
“Anyway,” Kyra said, reclaiming the conversation from the two older women, “long story short, Fyodor would love to stay here forever and ever. However, he knows that things are bad enough that we can’t really delay, so as soon as you eat, Ayodele is going to fill us in on what they know about the door we’ll be passing through.”
Grant tilted his head as he finished dishing himself up a meal big enough for two. “Oh? I thought that they couldn’t pass through the door, only us? How can they know what’s on the other side?”
“Apparently they have a bunch of legends about it,” Kyra said. “Ayodele says they’re not sure where they come from, considering how long they’ve been keeping records, but Fyodor seems to think that just makes the legends even more interesting, so he still wants to hear what they have to say.”
“Indeed I do,” Fyodor said, striding over to them while practically dragging along the Aziza that Grant hadn’t seen before. “Everyone, this is Lanre. Lanre, this is Grant, Kyra, Lei and Tamiko. Lanre here is one of the most prominent lorekeepers of the Aziza and a wealth of information, and we have fast become good friends.” He beamed, and Grant saw Lanre smile wryly at the proclamation. “I will be sure to fill you all in on what I have learned over the coming days, as I have formed a number of new theories that, if correct, are of vital importance. But, first, we must focus on surviving the world that we must go to next, as according to the Aziza’s legends, we will be in grave peril. Lanre, please.” He gestured for the man next to him to speak and clapped his hands enthusiastically.
It was nice, actually, seeing Fyodor begin to resemble the man he had been when Grant first arrived in Sanctuary. Ever since the attack, he had been forced into a leadership role as the oldest person present, and his once-jovial and enthusiastic demeanour had been replaced by a stern, serious one. It was wonderful to see the promise of new, unknown, secret information begin to crack that persona and reveal the childlike enthusiasm at his core.
Lanre stepped forward, arms clasped behind his back as he did so, trying to regain some dignity after having Fyodor drag him around. He was tall, at least a head taller than Grant himself, and his wings were of a wispy, cloth-like, almost ephemeral quality rather than the insect-styled wings that the rest of the Aziza seemed to have. He cleared his throat.
“Good morning,” he said in a high, reedy voice that grated slightly on Grant’s ears. “A pleasure to meet all of you. As your companion stated, I have been tasked to provide you with all the information we have on the world your journey takes you to next, and to answer any questions you have. First, a brief overview of our history.
“We do not know all of what transpired in the past, but one fact we are certain of is that we are not native to this world. Our histories - or the fragments that we retain - speak of a world far less isolated than our current one, one that we once lived in alongside humans and countless other intelligent species. We were protectors of that world- although I suppose guides might be a more accurate term, as by and large we are not adept at hunting or fighting. We helped watch over villages that teemed with life, hidden but always present, protecting and nurturing from the shadows. But, somehow, we were ripped from that world and placed here. Unfortunately, our records do not say how or why, just that it happened instantaneously. What we do know, however, is that to the Aziza of the time, this act was not unexpected. It appears that while we were not involved in the act, our ancestors were aware of its coming, and prepared our people to adapt to our new world as best as possible.”
“Sorry,” Fyodor interrupted, a slight frown on his face, “could you repeat that last part? You seem to have slipped into your native tongue there.”
Lanre winced. “Ah, my apologies. I assure you I did not intend to do so, but it appears I was treading too close to important secrets.” He saw the confusion on their faces and explained. “Ayodele told you of the enchantments on our writings, yes? That they are enchanted to only ever be understood by one of our people, and that any attempt by you to read them would be prevented, including if they were read to you? That is what just occurred. I am unaware of when the enchantments obscure my speech, but if I tread too close to information that our ancestors deemed too dangerous or important to be given to strangers, the enchantment will activate and make you unable to understand me.”
Fyodor and the others exchanged glances, clearly unhappy with this. Grant was also unhappy with this news, but for reasons quite different from the others. If the language enchantment could just kick in at any time, he would have to be damn careful not to give anything away in his expressions by reacting to information that the others weren’t hearing. He remembered his efforts yesterday to focus on hearing the underlying language of whomever was speaking, which he had foolishly stopped doing with the new day. He began to concentrate intensely on the task once more, trying to disguise his focus by shovelling food into his mouth.
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“I’m really not a fan of that,” Kyra said, giving Ayodele and Lanre a mistrusting look. “For all we know, you’re telling us a pack of lies or hiding stuff that could save our lives, just using this as an excuse to trick us.”
Lanre sighed. “I am sorry. I do understand your misgivings, but please, I assure you, there is nothing malicious at work. I do not even know why some information is considered guarded and some not, but our ancestors are the ones who laid down the spells, and they made quite certain that they are unbreakable. I know that saying I am not deceiving you is rather pointless, but I am trying to help. If you allow me to continue, I promise, there will be things worth hearing.”
The party exchanged glances once more, some clearly with misgivings, but after a moment Fyodor nodded and spoke. “We understand. Please, just try your best to avoid triggering the protections, and we will listen eagerly.”
Lanre gave him a relieved smile. “Thank you. I do appreciate the trust. Now, where was I… Ah yes. Our transferral to this world. Regardless of why or how - it happened. Our people were able to adjust fairly well. Our home now is very different from our original world - apparently we originally lived on a sphere that spun around itself, if you can imagine!” He chuckled, and Grant and the others smothered snorts.
“Once we were here, we were trapped,” Lanre continued, oblivious. “However, we were not alone.” At that, Fyodor and the others perked up, and Grant could even feel Ki’s attention suddenly locking onto the conversation, and surprise emanated from him. “Interestingly, while our ancestors apparently expected our change of worlds, records from the time show clear surprise, shock or even horror at the fact that we were not alone in our new home.” Paying attention, Grant could tell that the first part of the sentence was spoken in the - Azizan, I guess? - Azizan language, and flashes of annoyance showed on some of the others as Lanre spoke. “Apparently, the existence of other beings in the same world as us was not at all expected. Our ancestors called their presence ‘a flaw and a mistake’, and they were… not friendly, to put it mildly. Our writings describe them as similar in appearance to us, but with claws, fangs, and an ability to make their wings burn at incredibly high temperatures without hurting themselves. Within hours of arriving in their new home, our ancestors, many of whom had never harmed another living being in their long lives, found themselves in a war for the very existence of their race.
“Our enemies were merciless, and many. Luckily, while they were intelligent, they were not united in purpose, and killed each other as readily as they killed us. This, combined with the preparations that our people had made to build a new home, allowed the elders of the time to quickly construct a village and begin to imbue the surroundings with defensive magic. But our enemies were powerful, and wielded fearsome powers of their own. With enough time, they were able to gnaw through our barriers and wreak havoc before they were repelled. So, for decades, we lived in a state of war.”
“If I may,” Lei interrupted, “the protections you are talking about - are those the wards that we saw drawn around the villages? Because we were under the impression that they were drawn by someone with a Source.”
Lanre cocked his head. “I am unfamiliar with the term ‘Source’, but no. Those are not the defences that our elders created, and they were not made by any Aziza. Our records indicate that those protections were provided to us before we travelled to this world, but by whom, we do not know.”
Lei sighed. “Sorry, didn’t catch that last bit. Can you maybe try and rephrase it, see if that works?”
Lanre smiled apologetically. “Sadly, the magic does not work that way. They care about the concept being conveyed, and not the means by which it is done so - hence why it works with both the written and spoken word.”
Lei sighed again. “Fine. Well, at least it’s good to know that the Aziza didn’t make them, at least. Carry on.” She leaned back and crossed her arms, apparently deep in thought.
Lanre nodded. “As I was saying, for many years, we lived in peril. Attacks happened weekly, and no matter how strong we attempted to make our protections, they were never powerful enough to last forever against the onslaught. Luckily, as I said, our enemies were more than willing to slay each other. The first few years were the worst, but the population gradually lowered to stable levels and gave us a slight reprieve. It was due to this population decline that our ancestors made the discovery that would save us - our enemies could not reproduce. As the decades passed, it became more and more clear that these monsters, however they came to be, were finite. At first, our elders were relieved, as they assumed this meant that they would eventually die out, but sadly, they discovered that for the same reason that they could not reproduce, they were also immortal - that they were not real.
“By that, I of course do not mean that they were imaginary, but rather that they were purely magical beings. They had no need for sustenance, no need for air, water - anything. So, our ancestors managed to capture one of these creatures and study it, attempting to discern how they worked and, more importantly according to them, how they came to be in our world at all. What they discovered, sadly, is lost to us, as the war meant that relatively few records from that time survive. However, what we do know is that the truth of their origins enabled our ancestors to choose an option that, until that point, they had never considered. You see, they knew of the doors that you humans may travel through. Though there was only one in our world, their writings make it clear that they understood its function, and, perhaps more importantly for you, hinted at its purpose. As I said, many records are lost, so this is perhaps lacking in context, but there is one word in particular that they used repeatedly to describe the world that they knew lay on the other side - a ‘prison’. They believed that the world on the other side of the door was created for the sole purpose of containing monsters. What monsters, they did not know, but they were sure that unspeakable beings resided there. And so, faced with monsters of their own, they rid themselves of their enemies by, in a sense, imprisoning them. But rather than imprison them here, they were able to send them through the door - the same door that you will be travelling through.”
At these words, Fyodor leaned forward intently. “Really? They were able to open the door and use it? How? No other non-human we have ever encountered has been able to open the doors, let alone travel through them - for that matter, even if they could somehow use the door, they were able to make it so these monsters were able to as well?”
“Sadly, we do not know. No Aziza now living can open the door, as the method to do so is lost to time. We have only one fragment of a page that mentions the event, and it is rather cryptic. It simply says ‘Lawal holds the essence, and she will burn it.’”
The final sentence was spoken in Azizan, and Grant was careful not to react. That was made harder, however, by the sudden and intense wave of sadness that washed over him. The feelings were so strong that they almost brought a tear to his eye, and it took him a few seconds to truly recognise that the emotions were not his, but Ki’s.
You alright? He asked Ki, struggling to maintain a neutral expression as he felt the god’s grief.
I… am not, no. I am sorry, I need to… Ki’s voice faded into nothingness as his presence receded, and the emotions cut off, almost making Grant sag in relief.
I guess he knew this Lawal, he thought, banishing the leftover negative feelings the god had evoked in his mind, and bringing his attention back to the conversation at hand.
“... might be related,” Fyodor was saying, hands steepled on the table in front of him. “The being that attacked Sanctuary was not the same as the ones you described, but the fact that it was able to travel through the doors as well does bear some investigation.”
“Sadly, that truly is all that we know. The only other references to the feat speak of how it was a one-time occurrence, and no attempt to replicate it has succeeded,” Lanre said. “But, as I am sure you now understand, there is a reason we provide this knowledge to you. The world you must journey to is one that our most powerful and wise ancestors believed holds not only monsters of unbelievable power and evil, so great that their prison is a whole world, but also holds the remnants of a race that sought to exterminate us, and were so powerful that we could not defeat them, merely banish them using unknown powers. With luck, the few humans we have encountered over our history have been able to defeat the enemies there, but we cannot in good conscience send you on your way without warning.”
“Well, we do appreciate it,” Fyodor said, getting to his feet. Grant hurriedly stuffed the rest of his meal into his mouth as the others also stood, unwilling to lose the spectacular meal he was having. “As you say, I hope that the warning proves unnecessary, but we appreciate it regardless. Also, at least on my own behalf, I must thank you for sharing your history with us. I believe that knowledge is the most precious gift of all, and your story may well help us uncover the mysteries of our existence here.”
“You are most welcome,” Lanre smiled. “I hope that your journey proves fruitful, and that you find what you seek on your journey.”
“I think that, at last, we might,” Fyodor smiled in return.
An hour later, the party was nearing the exit door. Ayodele was guiding them while Fyodor continued to ask him questions about the story they had heard, in particular trying to eke out details of the sections he had been unable to understand, regardless of Lanre’s explanation that the magic would stop him from ever learning certain facts. Grant trailed at the back of the group, also pondering the history of the Aziza, albeit from a different, more informed perspective.
Not alone, huh? He thought as he trudged along, vaguely listening to the women in front of him as they argued about what was the best strategy for dealing with the unknown enemies in front of them. Ki seemed to imply that each world in the Vault housed only one species each, and I assume that that revelation is why he was paying so much attention. So he didn’t know that these ‘enemies’ existed… seems like a pretty big flaw, especially considering how he described the Aziza as such good people that he and the Magi went out of their way to give them extra protection here. Was it sabotage of some kind? Or just an unintended consequence? Maybe every world actually had more than one race in it - after all, humans didn’t begin coming here for a while, the way that he put it, ‘cause the Numen needed to build up their power a bit. But that doesn’t sound likely… I dunno. Either way, more questions. Which I really, really don’t like - though I guess considering the questions that Kyra and Fyodor and the others must have, it’s pretty unfair for me of all people to complain.
His musings were interrupted as a shiver ran up his neck, and he spun his head around to stare back down the path they were taking. Something was watching him. His eyes darted about, searching for whatever was giving him this feeling… and it wasn’t the first time he had felt this way. But… there was nothing there. He turned back around to see that Kyra had walked back to him, frowning.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, eyes scanning their surroundings. “What did you see?”
“I… I don’t know,” he replied, shaking his head. “I just… I felt like someone was watching me. And it wasn’t the first time either. Every now and then, I just get this certainty that someone or something is watching my every move.”
Kyra’s frown deepened. Raising a hand, she muttered a few words, and a few of the ribbons she wore unreeled themselves and tied together, forming a circle around the two of them. Grant felt and saw a pulse of magic burst out of the fabric, sweep across their surroundings like a flood before reversing course and coming back to them. Kyra eyed the ribbons and shook her head.
“Nothing there that I can tell,” she said, still frowning as she looked back at him. “But I don’t like you saying that. You say you’ve felt something is watching you before? When? In the village?”
“No, no,” Grant said, “it was before we ever met the Aziza. In fact, it wasn’t only in this world. Before we entered the cabin, I was sure I felt… something.” He sighed and shook his head. “It… don’t worry. It’s nothing. I’m just paranoid, ever since that… thing attacked sanctuary.” He smiled at her, trying to calm his nerves. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
Kyra shook her head and laid a hand on his shoulder. “No. Don’t dismiss your instincts like that. Just because I couldn’t sense anything, it doesn’t mean you’re wrong that there is something out there. Just… stay alert, okay? And next time, if you think something is wrong, tell us. Even if you think it’s nothing, no harm in letting us know, right?”
Grant smiled at her, more genuinely this time. “Yeah, right. I’m sorry, I will.”
“Good,” she said, squeezing his shoulder and walking back to join the rest. “Now, come join us. What do you reckon is the best way to kill a mix between a vampire and a minotaur?”
A few minutes later, they finally arrived at the door. The building that housed it was… non-existent. It was just a door, standing by itself on top of the plateau they had hiked up to. It would have been unrecognisable as a door if it weren’t for the handle, as it was just a stone slab sticking out of the rock beneath it, unadorned except for a large crack that ran down from the top left corner, leaking the same bright energy as the previous door They all stared at it for a moment before Grant cleared his throat.
“So, obviously I’m still the newbie here but… that’s not normal, right? For it to just… be there?” he asked.
“No. No it is not,” Fyodor said, staring intently at the door as though he could see through it. “ Nor is the crack that both doors of this world have had. But… all things considered, that must be taken as a positive sign. Unusual worlds, unusual doors… it must mean we are drawing close to our destination.”
“I sincerely hope that is the case,” Ayodele said with a smile as he bowed in their direction. “I will leave you here. Take whatever time you need before entering - or return to the village, if you wish. We are more than willing to host you for a time, though from what little you have told me, it sounds as though time is of the essence. But the offer remains.”
“Thank you,” Fyodor said, bowing back in return, “but we must depart. You have been generous and informative hosts, and I wish you the best. Maybe we will see you again.”
Ayodele smiled again, but this time with a touch of sadness. “I wish that could be so,” he said, his speech now in the odd overlaid tone that indicated to Grant he was speaking his native tongue. “But sadly, it must not be so. Even if you find your goal, the guardian will not allow you to escape. I hope you find peace and prosperity, and abandon your journey. But I understand why it must be the way it is. Forgive me, friends, but one way or the other, I send you to your deaths.” His eyes flicked over each of them in turn, before coming to rest on Grant. “Unless, that is, my suspicion about you is correct,” he continued, eyes boring into Grant’s while his tone remained unchanged. “If you hold the creator… then things are changing. Perhaps this cycle can break, and the true enemy be defeated at last.” He bowed his head, and made a peculiar gesture in their direction. “Good luck,” he said, this time speaking so that he could be understood, before he turned and strode off, pace even, never looking back.
“He seemed… different, there,” Kyra commented, squinting after the retreating Aziza suspiciously before glaring at Fyodor. “I still don’t like this,” she said bluntly. “I think they know a lot more than they’re telling.”
“Of course they do,” Fyodor said, glancing her way and rolling his eyes before his gaze returned to the door. “They have a permanent, unbreakable enchantment that prevents them from giving out information. We know for a fact that there are things they did not tell us.” He stepped forward, running his hands over the door frame. “But, I do not believe that they have lied to us. We shall be on guard, and we shall persevere, and we shall succeed in overcoming whatever obstacles lay before us. Besides,” he added, stepping back and smiling at the rest of them as his eyes twinkled, “I believe they revealed more than they know. I have a few theories of my own that I shall share once we are safe in the world beyond us. Now then…” He rolled up his sleeves and muttered a few words under his breath. Lightning began to flicker across his forearms, tracing the prominent veins that lined his muscular form, and he nodded. “Prepare yourselves. Grant, you shall enter last.”
They arranged themselves in the order they were to enter, and Grant watched as the others all readied themselves for combat. Kyra summoned her sword into her palm and ran a hand over it, causing it to glow slightly. Tamiko drew two daggers from her waist, and sent two more orbiting around her with a flick of her wrist. Lei was the most interesting, as she just… melted. Her skin grew waxy as her eyes clouded over, and her body began to stretch as she grew to over seven feet tall, making Grant gape at her in shock. Slenderman battle form, he thought to himself dazedly.
“Ready?” Fyodor asked, looking them over. One by one, they nodded, Grant doing so last as he secretly began to draw on his own power, imbuing his body as he felt energy begin to surge through him. “Good. Then, let us cross over.”
Fyodor stepped through the door, and the rest followed on his heels.