My mother tapped her chin thoughtfully as she leaned against the wall beside Oscar and I sat on the stairs. Lifting her head, she took a deep breath and said, “It sounds like Orethon’s Message, mixed with Alanguard’s Contact.”
Well, that’s super helpful, I thought with an internal eye roll. Unfortunately, my knowledge of magic was elementary. With us constantly being on the run and fighting, I never had the time to sit and truly spend some time studying.
“What are those?” I asked as Oscar nodded along with my question.
My mother inadvertently crossed her arms across the lower portion of her torso, propping up her chest. She tilted her head to one side and explained, "Well, they’re two forms of communication spells. Message is exactly as it sounds; it’s a single message conveyed verbally, then transmitted across a small distance, roughly a gilo or so. If there’s no large obstructions and you know the general direction of the receiver before the message is planted telepathically in one’s head. Imagine if I could take my words now and well… Actually, I’ll demonstrate.” My mother rolled her shoulders and pushed herself off the wall, turning to me. She held her index finger and middle finger to her lips while keeping the rest of her hand folded into a partial fist.
Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “I’ve used this hundreds, if not thousands, of times back in the day. I had mastered the art of casting it without incantations or prep. It comes naturally.”
Except those words just then did not sound like a whisper. Instead, it was as if she was right behind me, speaking calmly into my ear. Her voice was perfectly clear, as if I had thought those words. Goosebumps formed all over me, and I shivered and instinctively glanced over my shoulder.
“Whoa.” I gulped as I turned back to her. “How come you never used that spell back home when Varis and I were running around?” I asked.
My mother smiled. “Mostly because, if you remember, I didn’t want you kids knowing I was capable of such feats.” She sighed. “But also because the spell is quite limiting. As mentioned, I would need to know your general direction as well as if there’s any obstructions or not. Such as a tall and thick wall, like two feet of stone or a thin sheet of metal, that sort of stuff. The spell can’t really move around obstacles; it mostly travels in a straight line from where you cast it. While we don’t see it, the message physically moves; it doesn’t just appear.” She snapped her finger. “Like contact does.”
“Wait,” I said, confused. “If the spell physically sends messages, how come the soldiers could communicate using the message stones?” I asked, recalling the magical items used during the prison assault. “Those stones were instant.”
My mother nodded. “They appear instant, yes, but that’s because the spell travels at an immensely fast speed.”
I pursed my lips. Sounds like radio communication. While I’m not inherently intelligent. I was a fan of science fiction, or really, I still am. I just haven’t had the time to enjoy more of it. While science fiction is still fiction, it still comes with tiny bits of truth sprinkled into the fantasy. What I mean is much of the science stuff I do know came from things like Star Trek and the like. Radio waves travel at the speed of light; back on Earth, such things seemed instant, but that was because of how small Earth is compared to how far light can move. For instance, the moon to the earth I knew was approximately three light seconds. Meaning the light you see on the moon was from three seconds ago. Thus, during the Apollo missions, communication between the astronauts on the moon and those working on the ground had a three-second delay. Or if you’re familiar with the Mars rovers, you’d know that communication between them and NASA is roughly three to four minutes. Cool right? Being a science nerd does have its benefits.
Of course, magic is entirely different, but science does help me when it comes to creating a mental picture of things. It also gives me that false feeling of thinking I understand, so I don’t feel stupid.
“How does contact work?” Oscar asked, leaning in with an intrigued look.
My mother’s smile widened, and her eyes twinkled excitedly. “That one is much better but requires much more ether and is overall a bit complex. I’ll be honest and say that even I don’t fully understand its inner workings, though I’ll tell you what I do know. The rough idea of what I know is that ether, when channeled in a particular way, can push through to other planes to create a shortcut towards its intended target. It also allows it so that you can communicate with those on other planes.”
I cocked my head to one side. I vaguely recall Mother and Isa talking about “planes” like dimensions. However, they had never gone into detail about it. The closest I remember is when Isa told Varis and me about the “Fae Wylde,” but that was it.
“Wait,” I said, “Planes? Like different dimensions?” As I asked, I saw my mother’s face falter slightly, and she nodded.
“I don’t have time to explain it, dear.” She sighed.
At this point, Oscar said, “We have three hours.” He huffed, "until the generator comes on.”
This caught both my mother and me off guard. “Three hours?”
Oscar nodded. “Ben said so.”
“This place will be swarming with soldiers by then,” my mother said after lowering her voice.
“Come then; I don’t think I can speak with the Master,” I said, nodding in agreement. “There’ll be too many people around here.” I felt myself deflate a bit. Had this been for nothing? No way would the military allow us to stay down here; hell, they might bring us in for questioning again.
My mother took a deep breath and shrugged. “We’ll just have to wait and find out,” she said, though her face told me she was thinking what I was thinking. “I’m sure the Master has a plan.”
I snorted, and both Oscar and my mother cocked an eyebrow. “That Lucien guy,” I said. “When the Master found out that he and Ami were talking to us, he seemed frustrated. Like he didn’t expect them to be here.”
“He didn’t?” Oscar asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, when I told him, he said, “bollocks.”” I mimicked his voice, which, of course, sounded nothing like him.
“Well shit,” my mother said flatly. “So we’re really doing this blind?” She asked, though it was more of a statement.
“I guess so,” I said as we all sighed.
“But wait…” My mother said she snapped a finger. “The vision you had, the one warning us of the coming attack—”
I sliced the air with a hand and said, “Not him. I asked the Master about that too, and he had no recollection of such a vision or dream. Either I coincidentally had that dream, or someone else planted it.”
“Vision?” Oscar asked.
My mother pursed her lips. “How much does he know?” She asked me.
Honestly, I said, “As much as Mr. Reynolds needs to know. Which for the most part is that I have a voice in my head and that it can detect bad guys.”
My mother nodded and turned to Oscar. “Luna sometimes has dreams that seem to correlate with events before they happen.”
Oscar’s eyes widened, and he looked at me. “Future you can see?” He asked, and I couldn’t help but snort as he sounded like Yoda.
I shook my head. “Not exactly. The dreams… they seem to imply what might happen, but I never seen them play out one for one…” I trailed off as my eyes widened.
The probability spell. Is that what the Master uses to send me dreams? I shook my head. That was something I could ask him about later.
I cleared my throat. “They’re visions that show events that could happen or what the Master thinks will happen. At least, that’s what I speculate,” I admitted, all in all, I didn’t know what those dreams were.
My mother cleared her throat. “Lets get back on the subject,” she said, reeling us back in. “Luna, you think Lucien might be Ami?” She asked.
“I’m guessing,” I admitted. “Ami said their name is French and that Lucien guy speaks it; at least he said that’s what it was when he visited Aunt Saria and Uncle Aenorin’s home. Also, when Ami was being a jerk earlier I noticed that he got very angry when I called Lucien Lucy.” I smirked, proud of myself that I caught that detail.
My mother nodded. “I don’t know if that means they’re the same person, but they may be close. Or at least we know they’re working together.”
Oscar nodded. “Ben also stopped talking when Lucien helped with the reactor." He jutted a thumb behind his shoulder towards the control room door.
“Who’s Ben?” My mother asked.
“Ben is Ami,” I said before Oscar could answer. “While Ami was helping us, they were also helping Oscar.” I briefly explained as the older elf nodded.
“Mrs. Ashflow,” Oscar began, though my mother held up a hand.
“Elder, please call me Cailynn.”
“Only if you call me Oscar,” The elder smirked, and my mother smiled and gave him a curt nod. Oscar continued, “Cailynn, believe do you that, Ben-Ami?” He hesitated. “What name should we assign?”
My mother blinked as her mind tried to process the question. “Oh!” Her eyes widened as recognition dawned on her. “I think Ben is a good name. It’s easy to say.”
Both Oscar and I nodded in agreement as a brief, awkward silence fell over us. Oscar cleared his throat and held up a finger. “However, question that was not,” he said. “What I ask. Is…” His face scrunched as he tried to recall the words he wanted to use. “Contact. Spell. Is that how Ben speaks?”
My mother smiled. “That’s what I was wondering,” she said with a wave of her hand. “The two examples I gave earlier were just that. Both spells require verbal communication, not text. That’s how most magisters communicate; at least back when I was in the Concordium that’s how things went. There are also a few other methods, but I think for this instance such spells are not appropriate due to their complexity. As much as I dislike this Ben character, they aren’t stupid. The knowledge they expressed during our brief interaction showed me that whoever this is, they know what they’re doing.”
Oscar nodded. “They showed great knowledge regarding Far Reachers. Knowledge I or my colleagues would salivate over.”
This caused my mother to cock her head with curiosity. “They do?”
Oscar nodded. “Ruins they guide us through; technology they controlled.” He waved his hands around the entire reactor room. “Ben knew layout of hidden facility, led us to it, which made it so we find here.” He pointed to the ground.
My mother looked at me and then back at Oscar. “So Ben is some kind of Forgotten Empire scholar?” she asked, using another term I heard coined for the Far Reachers.
Oscar shrugged. “So I thought.”
I held a hand like a student trying to get their teacher’s attention. Seeing this, my mother couldn’t help but smile and point to me. “Go ahead, Star.” She hummed.
I blushed faintly when she used the nickname she gave me. “So you think Ben is using this contact spell to speak with us?” I asked.
To my surprise, she shook her head no. Before I could say anything, she said, “The reason being that Contact, to my knowledge, requires you to designate a target. Specifically, another person. Unfortunately, even I don’t fully comprehend the specifics as to what criteria needs to be fulfilled. For instance, I have never met the Kaiser; therefore, if I tried to use Contact to speak with him, I cannot. Some magisters theorize it has to do with souls forming an unseen connection. Or perhaps mingling ether is involved—before you ask, I do not feel qualified as of yet to explain the mingling ether theory. Point is, Ben would have to have met you at some point before they could contact you via the spell; even then, what he is doing wouldn’t qualify.”
Oscar pursed his lips. “Then why mention the two?” He said it in a pretty coherent manner.
“Because I’m trying to narrow down what it could be,” she sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. “Such a form of communication like this hasn’t been done before. I have never heard of an arcane device being manipulated into doing something it wasn’t. At least, not on a whim like that.”
Oscar nodded. “Like Contact. Caster also works only with those you know.”
I curled my lips in thought. “Whoever they are,” I said, “they must be strong. Or know stuff we don’t.”
“Or both.” Oscar nodded.
My mother released a shaky sigh and dropped her arms to her sides. “I hate to say it, but I think you’re right, Sweetie. Let’s just hope they’re on our side.”
“I think they are,” I said, rubbing my sore leg. “The Master seemed familiar with them.”
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“Even then,” my mother said, “it’s best to play it safe, Luna.” I nodded.
“How pleasant,” The monotonous voice of the Master startled me. “You were intelligent enough to stick around. Truly, this makes things easier for us.”
Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty. I smiled, looked at Mother and Oscar, and tapped the side of my head. “Guess who decided to show up two hours early?” I said with a big grin.
In a surprisingly annoyed tone, the Master scoffed, “I was not sleeping! I was merely trying to re-establish a link, the amount of work it takes for me to do this from prison–”
Yeah, yeah, it’s tough for you. I was told you’d be gone for like 4 hours. Suddenly, a terrible feeling struck me. Did the pulse not work?! Is everything going to shit up above–
“No, and if you’ll let me speak and not wave me off, I’ll explain, but not here.”
“Luna,” my mother leaned in, her expression focused. “What is he saying?” she asked as one of the Yankys shouted for Oscar, who perked up.
“I’ll be back,” he said, and immediately my brain thought of the Terminator. God, my brain really does wander during the best of times.
“Now isn’t the time to think of movies.” The Master scolded as Oscar got up and walked towards the Yanky soldiers.
How the hell do you know what movies are?
“I am literally in your head. I know what you know–”
Wait, wait… You can even see my memories?
“We’ve discussed this.”
Have we? I genuinely couldn’t remember. You know what doesn’t matter. Please don’t go through my memories and such; that’s creepy.
“Luna,” my mother prompted me.
“S-sorry, was having an argument.” I cleared my throat. “He wants me to go talk to him somewhere.”
“The magrite pillar,” he said, which I relayed to my mother.
Looking at the pillar, I noticed the faint glow had grown much brighter over the hour. From it, I could feel a tug. It is not a physical tug but something internal; it is a temptation. It was an odd sensation but not unwelcome. Or perhaps it was the Master making it feel that way, which was a thought I didn’t like. Controlling my body was one thing; manipulating my thoughts and feelings was another.
My mother looked at the magical pillar and then back to me. “Is it safe?” She asked. “I mean, getting close to it?”
“It is safe. The pillar itself is sealed and leaking nothing harmful. If damaged, however, that is another story,” The Master answered in my mind, which I then relayed to my mother.
When I mentioned potential damage, my mother pursed her lips. "No, the pillar is not damaged. I said it was safe. If it was damaged, none of you would be alive.” I told my mother this, and she relaxed.
“One more thing then,” she said, wagging a finger in the air. “How long will we be speaking?”
“She will not be joining us,” the Master said. “The conversation will last as long as we need it, though to her, it may only feel like a few moments.”
Excuse me? I thought. I had a feeling the conversation would be private. While the Master can possess me and speak through me, I didn’t know if that would be practical for a more long-form conversation. I’m confused. What do you mean?
“What I mean is that our conversation will take place… How can I dumb this down?”
Okay, that insulted me. What do you mean by dumbing this down?
“Exactly that, Luna. I know for certain the magic and physics involved will go over your head. As mentioned, I can see, read, and hear all of your thoughts and memories if I want to. I know based on your past the knowledge you–”
So you’re calling me stupid. Only I can call myself stupid.
“What I’m trying to say is… Oh, there’s no point.”
Realized you’re just going to dig your grave deeper?
“No, I realized that no matter what I say, it’ll only hammer my point in further.”
My mother looked at me with a concerned look when she noticed my expression. “Luna?” She muttered as my left eye twitched.
Part of me wished I could strangle the man in black. Alas, I couldn’t and conceded. All right, fine. Can you at least try to explain it? Hit me.
“I warned you,” the Master muttered. “I plan on using you to manipulate the magrite pillar into acting as a receiver to transfer your consciousness into a separate layer of reality. One in which would allow us to communicate at a higher level unrestricted by the restraints of time. To us, we can communicate for what feels like hours or days, where, on this layer of reality, the material realm, only moments would’ve passed.”
Well, that wasn’t so bad; I-I think I can understand. Maybe. I dunno. We can talk real fast; that’s all I got.
“And that was me dumbing it down for you,” the Master muttered.
We did that before, right? When we first met?
“Oh?” He hummed pleasantly. “You are correct. The structure you entered in the cave was close enough to a place of power for me to transport your conscience to my prison.”
That explains why I woke up still at the front of the cave… So, was that all a dream?
“No. Again, I am physically transporting your conscience—nevermind, it’s irrelevant. Please, go to the pillar. Tell your Mother she will not be waiting long.”
So I did. My mother relaxed and stepped out of my way as I got up and stretched. Nervously, I hopped down the steps and rolled my sore shoulders as I began to walk toward the reactor. Some inner part of me who wasn’t falling for that feeling of temptation was screaming at me not to go to it. The little voice was blabbering about how stupid it would be to walk up to a nuclear reactor, though I squashed those second thoughts by distracting myself with unhelpful questions.
Master Guy? If this “higher conscience” place is your prison and time is slow as hell there… Does that mean—
Before I could finish the sentence, the Master said, “If you’re asking me if everything I experience here is slower than where you are, that is correct. A minute in your time feels like days or weeks. When I say I have been imprisoned for two thousand years, that is two thousand years in swift mortal time. To me, it has been far, far longer.”
Can you guess how long it’s been? I thought curiously as I neared the metallic base of the pillar. I could hear the Yanks questioning my actions as my mother went over to calm them.
“That is irrelevant–”
Oh, c’mon, please? I asked, genuinely curious.
The Master sighed. “I bring you here to discuss urgent matters, and all you want to know is how long I’ve been suffering?”
I paused and bit my lower lip. Ah, shit. When you put it like that, I sound like a dick…
“Indeed. Now, when you’re ready. Place your hand on the pillar, the crystal portion. It’ll feel warm, but do not worry.”
I stepped onto a metal protrusion at the base of the pillar and propped myself up to face the crystalline structure. Already, the light was much brighter, nowhere near as blinding as it had been before, though I had to squint as I took a deep breath and reached for it. Just before my fingers made contact, I could feel the aforementioned warmth, and that little voice I had squashed before screamed not to do it.
Then, I made contact. In an instant, a powerful surge of warm energy poured from the pillar and into my body. The sensation was euphoric, and my mind seized as the warmth quickly enveloped my body all within a microsecond, and abruptly, my vision went white. Like a flashbang from a video game, I was blinded and could only hear a sharp ring in my ear.
I felt weird, weightless even. What the hell happened?
A voice I recognized nearby spoke; it was the Man in Black. “My apologies; the elevation went faster than I expected. I had to stop your conscience from expanding rapidly, so I created a bubble of materium to keep you stabilized.”
I blinked a couple of times as my vision slowly returned to me. “Wh-what?” I asked, not understanding what was said.
“Exactly,” the Master said simply. “Trying to explain would be a waste. Just know that everything is fine now.”
I shook my head as my vision returned fully, and we were standing… nowhere. I could see, but there was nothing aside from myself, and off to my right was the Master. Everything else was simply a white void, like the place from my dream with Charity. The Man in Black stood out like a stain amongst the void and levitated towards me as we finally came face to face again.
“How are you feeling?” He asked as I honestly felt like ralphing.
“A bit nauseous now that I think about it…” I took in deep breaths. “Wh-what is this place? Where are we? I thought we’d be in your tower?”
“In a sense we are; I have just not had the time to generate it.”
“Generate it?” I blinked.
He nodded. “Yes. The times we had met have merely been “stages” I constructed to suit my comfort as well as your own. My prison, as mentioned, is really a pocket in the upper stages of reality, limiting my conscience to what it could truly be. Even then, compared to your mortals, such a consciousness would appear vast and unlimited.”
“Huh?” Was all I could muster.
The Man in Black frowned. “Do you see why I refuse to answer most questions?”
I shook my head. “Yo-you said we have plenty of time here, guy. Please at least try to humor me, but try and explain it in a way I can understand.”
The Master snorted. “You speak as if I’m some sort of AI from earth.”
“How do you—oh, yeah, mind reading bullshit…” I sighed. "Honestly, it kind of feels like it with how you talk; you could do a lot better if you inject a bit more enthusiasm in your speech.”
The Master tilted his head back, allowing me to see faint glimpses of his eyes beneath the darkened hood. “When you have been around as long as I have, there is very little that can humor me.”
“Careful, you’ll cut yourself on that edge,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “Actually, before we start this chat.” I raised a finger. “Can you “generate” an environment that isn’t frying my retinas?”
The Master frowned. “You really are treating me like a machine…”
“Please do it.” I insisted, and the Master audibly sighed as the white void began to contort. Inky black splotches of color began to appear around us like spilled paint before suddenly colors began to appear. In an event that caused my brain to seize and ache, the world visibly glitched, and we stood within the Master’s tower. In the center, the large, cracked bell hung before us. Around me, I could see the rolling plains of the Infinite Twilight as Enora’s moons hung high above us, casting their light upon the world. I could feel a calm, comforting breeze blowing through the tower’s open windows, and my seared eyes began to ease.
Now partially relaxed, I sighed. “How come I never felt anything like that before? The whole blinding sickness.”
“The first time we spoke in the tower, I had time to carefully elevate you. Where as this time you were quite literally shunted into my domain. The dream in which we spoke was merely that, a dream. You were not consciously here like you are now and before.”
“What do you mean by that, consciously here?” I asked.
“Exactly that.” The Master said with a twirl of his thin, bony wrist. “Your conscious, or really, I should say your soul. Is here.” He pointed to the floor for emphasis.
“I’m inside the crystal?” I asked, and the Master snorted.
“No. As I said, I merely transferred my power through your body to manipulate the crystal into acting as a… radio tower, as you might understand it. Before you ask, that was an analogy. Souls do not operate like radio waves. What I did was tune the resonance of the crystal to project your consciousness into a higher level of reality in which you and I can communicate unimpeded. To protect your consciousness from destabilizing and expanding beyond its control, I created a bubble of materium around us. Just so you understand, higher reality does not appear like this.” He once again motioned around himself with a hand towards the tower. “There is no “physical” aspect of it. I cannot even begin to explain how such a concept even looks or appears to a mortal who has not successfully transcended.”
“So…” I licked my lips while processing what he said. “We’re in the fourth dimension?”
“If I say yes, would you accept that answer?”
“I would think you’re brushing me off, but sure.” I sighed with a shrug. I knew there would be no point in asking him to even try. I barely even made it through my high school physics class; no way in hell would I even be able to learn about whatever multi-dimensional shenanigans were going on here. “So, if I’m understanding you correctly. This tower, this bell, all of this doesn’t exist?”
“It does exist, but not within your reality.”
“So it does and it doesn’t?”
“Yes.”
I dunno why, but I was feeling uneasy. All of this was a bit much. To relieve tension, I decided to do what I do best: ask stupid questions. “So if things are super fast here, what’s it like talking to me when I’m back in the… uh, material realm?”
“I am very patient.” The Master answered a bit too quickly. “When communicating with you, it comes with a delay. Or at least to me, that is how I perceive time. Everything between our layers feels immensely slow. It’s like being stuck watching The Room at 0.25 speed. On repeat.”
My eyes widened. When the hell did he start referencing pop culture?! I haven’t seen that awful movie in years.
“Luna, I was not trying to be dramatic when I said not much amuses me anymore. I have been trying for years to keep myself occupied within this prison.”
“So what? You raided my memories to keep yourself distracted?” I blinked.
The Master pursed his lips. “I feel like you’re trying to entrap me.”
I sighed. “Speaking of which. Please don’t do that.”
The Master cocked his head. “Why not? It would be prudent for me to acquire as much information as I can–”
“For privacy reasons, duh!” I snapped. “I-I don’t want you digging through the mush in my skull hoping to find something silly for you to giggle at. I-I have stuff I’d like to keep to myself!”
The Master curled his lips inward as his mouth changed to that of a thin line. He then nodded his head. “Agreed. There are things about you I have learned that I wish I hadn’t. The things you’re into are absolutely unhinged–”
“Huh?! What?!”
“Oh, I’ve said too much. This is why I’ve made it very clear we should not discuss things that aren’t important. Yet, you always complain—”
“This is different!”
The Master waved his hand dismissively. “This is what I get for finally being open with you.” He huffed. Like, actually huffed.
I clenched my teeth. “Wh-what the hell are you on about?! You know what.” It was my turn to cut the air with a knife hand. “Changing topics. Just stop looking into my brain; it’s weird.”
The Master smirked, and seeing him do so sent my mind ablaze, though I held my tongue. “Agreed. Let us change topics, and I’ll think about your second request.”
“No thinking, just do it. Please.” I sighed. “So what’s the deal? Where do we start?”
The Master nodded. “I was going to leave that to you, Luna. We are here to discuss everything you want or need to know. Since I know you have a million questions, I would like to start there. What would you like to know?”