The air was dry. A frigid sting shot through Deventh’s sinuses. Under the dim light of a capsule-shaped lamp, he stood at his workbench, a well-loved surface riddled with nicks and dents, intent on repairing the trigger of his glove’s crossbow. But with cold, stiffened joints, his fingers failed to provide any leverage as he tried to wedge a prying tool beneath the button shroud. He saw his breath as he exhaled, and he shuddered at the sensation of drippings from his nose clinging to his septum piercing. Only now did he realize that while he was absorbed in his work, the temperature had dropped steadily over time.
Time, he reminded himself, setting down his glove to retrieve his timekeeper from his pocket. The hands of the clock face spun erratically, and he tweaked a small lever on the side to calibrate it. The hours had certainly come and gone, but he was pleased to find enough time remained to finish his work. For small repairs, he didn’t often deem it necessary to return here, but his other projects languished in recent months, cast aside in a sad heap while he struggled to make ends meet. He wasn’t sure when next he’d find the opportunity to tend to them.
Outside the light’s reach, shadows enveloped the rest of the room, crawling up the metallic walls to the lofty ceiling. A steam engine chugged and hissed in the room adjacent, filling the space with its soothing rhythm – another comfort he’d missed in his absence due to its unmatched ability to drown out his thoughts. Focusing on the repetition of the piston strokes, Deventh closed his eyes and clasped his hands together to warm them. He then returned to his task, savoring the last of his brief reprieve from worrying about such troubles as time.
Deventh wriggled his fingers back into his gloves and checked that nothing poked nor prodded. He tested the crossbow mechanism, and when he was content with the results of his work, he stowed his tools within the meticulously organized sections of a nearby crate. Once he’d returned everything to its rightful place and double- and triple-checked for errors, he made his way to the door. As he opened it, the room flooded with mechanical whirring.
The steam engine toiled away, turning the gears of a machine more than twelve feet high, a massive siphon to draw in magic and feed the laboratory’s functions. Bathed in the moonlight which streamed in through the glass dome ceiling, the duo worked together to feed the laboratory’s functions. Time may have lessened the intensity of Deventh’s fascination with the pair of constructs, but he’d never seen anything like them on the surface, and they still demanded his attention every time he stepped into the space. Sometimes, in this very light, it was still as breathtaking a sight as the day he’d discovered it.
A disc serving as the machine’s console spun at a comfortable height for an observer to monitor. Six ethereal projections hovered around the circumference, following its rotation. One depicted a clock, centering time in tandem with Esyrene’s surface. Another flickered with lines of smoky blackness, a cloak to displace the hermitage outside of any tangible coordinates. The third, a gauge to show the supply and stability of magic energy. The fourth, a portal, the fifth, a cage of iron bars, and the sixth, a static white circle with soft, glowing edges.
The magic gauge showed some degradation, fading from a shaky green to a solid yellow. It had been this way since he last visited. A slight decline took place in the month between, but nothing alarming. Not yet. As for the nature of the issue, physical or otherwise, he did not know – but time remained to figure it out, if only he could spare such a precious resource. For now, the machine ran well enough to keep everything stable.
Deventh turned his chin up and gazed at the stars. Among the constellations that danced overhead, one cast an overwhelming shadow over his contentment. Tem’s Eye, boldly named as the last remnant of the Time God’s forgotten existence. Clear evidence, some argued, that his essence remained in the cosmos, keeping watch over past, present, and future. Deventh dismissed the notion, wanting to end his visit on a less pensive note. After all, it didn’t need to be Tem.
The other gods have eyes, too. A flimsy wave-away more than an earnest attempt to reason with himself – at the very least, he found some manner of humor in it.
He turned around the corner of the machine and stood facing a panel of switches and buttons, with a lever to the right. In an effortless display of muscle memory, he flipped a number of switches and pressed a few of the buttons in a particular order before pulling the lever. As the whirring loudened, he took a step back. A dimensional seam appeared and began slowly tearing to form a portal.
Waiting for the portal to come to size, Deventh glanced once more behind him, having forgotten to check on the one construct that kept the others fueled: an automaton, patched together with scraps from his other projects. He’d originally found it collapsed in pieces on the floor, and once restored to function, it seemed intrinsically bound to maintaining a symbiosis between itself and the machine. Having completed its duty of tending the boiler for the moment, it wandered the perimeter of the room, waiting to respond to incidents or orders. Again, nothing alarming.
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By the time Deventh was satisfied with the state of the place, and he could find no more reasons to stall his departure, the portal grew to a comfortable size through which to step. And so he did, closing his eyes as the bright light surrounded him. Liminal silence filled his ears, hushing the mechanical noise. Soon the sensations faded, and he blinked in the fading light to find himself back on the surface. In his office. Just as cold as before – but a different sort of cold, one that settled much deeper into the emptiness.
Hardly a second passed after the portal dissipated, and already there was a knock at the door. He didn’t know whom to expect, but it certainly wasn’t the person who stood in the threshold.
“Jessa,” he said, “Welcome back. Have you only just returned?”
“Yes,” she answered, “Hela, Dirien, and Al’mar are here as well. We, um, found each other on the way. They’re reporting to Anna right now.”
“Quite the coincidence. Hopefully your travels weren’t too troublesome?”
“Not at all,” Jessa said, her voice rushed. As she fidgeted with the spot on her finger where she once wore her ring, her eyes shot downward. “I’m sorry I didn’t write like I promised. Actually, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Deventh stepped aside, inviting her in. Jessa smoothed her skirt as she sat, her gaze darting around at everything above her height. Sitting opposite Jessa, Deventh thumbed through a stack of papers. She was clearly shaken up over something, and he thought it best to allow her some time to ease into her surroundings. When she was ready, she continued unprompted.
“We’re not getting the necklace back.”
“Why is that?” Deventh asked, his curiosity piqued.
“I gave it to my father. And then he took it to his laboratory in Wyvern’s Rest to investigate it. When I saw him the next day, he said it was too dangerous to give it back to me and that he’d be keeping it for a long-term study. Of course, he wouldn’t elaborate.”
“Interesting.” Deventh tapped on his desk, a slew of possibilities rushing by in his head. He refrained from asking any questions about it, figuring it was beyond her control. “That certainly raises questions.”
“I – yes, it certainly does.” Jessa released her breath and once again fiddled with her absent ring. “But, um, aside from that, there’s… something else you should know.”
“Go on.”
“I left the University and ran away from home. Before I left, I tossed my ring in the lake. My father can't track me anymore.”
With a slow nod, Deventh set aside another batch of possibilities.
“And you don’t suppose this is the first place he’d go looking for you?”
“I don’t know.” Jessa managed a half-whisper, then worked up the confidence to speak clearly. “Even if it is, I know passages in this building he would never find. I can make myself scarce or escape if I need to.”
“Escape routes or not, you do understand how this might put our guild in jeopardy, correct?”
“Well—that’s partially why I’m telling you. But as long as he doesn’t find me here, you’re not in any trouble. He wouldn’t dream of cutting off a source of income over a suspicion. All you need to do is make sure you keep up on rent from now on – and I can help with whatever work needs to be done to accomplish that.”
Deventh leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together. Though tense and fidgety, Jessa carried an unprecedented surety in her words. The possible consequences of her flight were difficult to ignore, but without knowing her motivations, he couldn’t fault her. Rather, he found himself sympathetic.
“What made you decide to do this?” he asked. Jessa gave a nervous hum, combing her fingers through her hair.
“On our way to Quarryside, when we were caught in the snow, you told me about how you ran away from home,” she said, “That there were things you miss, and yet you haven’t looked back.”
“Aye. But the things I miss don’t outweigh the positives of making that decision. Are you certain this is what’s right for you?”
“It may have been a bit rash,” Jessa admitted, “But the more I thought about it, the more I found reasons why I should have done this a while ago. Even if it wasn’t my only option, I’ll do what I can to make it the right one.”
“That settles it, then,” said Deventh, “Have you ever been to Uminora?”
“N-no. Why do you ask?”
“Well, it would be difficult for you to be found here if you were on an expedition with the rest of us.”
“Oh.” Jessa’s voice fluttered, light with relief. “Really? I can stay?”
“You’ve nowhere else to go, I would imagine.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Jessa said. “What about Anna? Will she disapprove?”
“Doubtful, but I will speak to her, of course. Is there anything else you wished to discuss?”
Jessa froze, biting her lower lip. She shifted in her seat, a glint of contemplation and restraint in her eyes.
“No, I… I think that’s it,” she said.
“Very well,” said Deventh, heading to the door to see her out. “We’ll be heading out overmorrow. Hopefully that provides you with ample time for you to rest and prepare. I’ll spare you the details for now, as there should be more opportune times to discuss them – when you haven’t just arrived back.”
Jessa stood and straightened her chair, and by the time Deventh turned around at the exit, she hadn’t moved an inch. He thought he’d felt her eyes on him as he passed by, but he didn’t expect to catch her bewildered stare. She startled, then scurried over to him, avoiding his gaze.
“Thank you, Deventh,” she said, giving a slight bow of her head. “Anywhere else, I fear I would have well overstayed my welcome.”
A nod of acknowledgment seemed enough to reassure her. As she nodded back at Deventh, a smile curled her lips. She then skipped away, headed across the hall to the bunk room. At the same moment, Dirien, Helaneth, and Al’mar were filing out of Anna’s office, and out stepped the Helbrund behind them. The two guild leaders regarded each other with their typical silent exchange, wherein they agreed to speak later. Weary and anticipative of what was to come, they both slunk back into their offices.