Just Add Mana

Working on the Streaming ritual inside the Black Vault was easier said than done, in large part because the ritual had been designed to function within a labyrinth. A sufficiently complex one became a magical construct in itself, and that was essential for the ritual's success. The twists and turns within such a labyrinth confused even the magic that kept the realms separate, weakening the veil enough that the anchor point of the Stream could be established.

The presence of divine intent within the labyrinth could confuse that, though. Divine intent was present all throughout every realm that had established its own theology, and while its presence enhanced all aspects of that realm, it could interfere with more delicate forms of spellcasting.

Purging that intent and creating palewater-level mana only solved part of the problem. Divine intent existed in every layer of the realm. It was in the air and the stone, in the water they drank and the food they ate. The Gift was connected to each and every one of them, and it had a hand in every spell they cast.

To truly figure out how to improve the ritual, they would have to strip away every way in which that divine intent helped them, exposing all the tiny little flaws and cracks that it smoothed over. If they could be solved, then the divine intent present when they performed the ritual would instead empower its other components, potentially increasing the stability of the Stream or allowing it to be more carefully directed.

Cale was rather pleased with Leo for figuring all that out. He'd clearly put a lot of thought into it, and he wasn't even done. There was another reason he wanted to examine the ritual in the Black Vault.

As much as the magical nature of labyrinths were key to the Streaming ritual, it was also a problem. They'd learned of that problem not all that long ago, thanks to the breakthroughs Leo had made with his magic in the Haelforge Library. There he had discovered the truth behind the curse that haunted all minotaurs, the Impetus that caused them to lose their minds if they spent too much time within a labyrinth or around any related magic.

It was an involuntary cry for help. The patron of labyrinths—the Named beast and father of minotaurs, Asterion—was fighting a losing war. The ability of a labyrinth to thin the veil of the realm was a powerful one, but it meant also that Asterion had to dedicate his entire domain to fending off a threat that most of the Great Realms were still unaware of.

For behind the veil of each realm was the Nothing, and within the Nothing resided every evil that had been defeated and consigned to nonexistence.

Cale supposed it was something of a paradox. Every realm was surrounded by the Abyss, but was also surrounded by the Nothing. Creatures that should have been wiped out of existence instead remained as revenants within a space that did not exist by its very definition. What meaning did nonexistence have, if nonexistence itself was another form of existence?

That sort of question was the type of thing he preferred to leave to philosophers, though. It was in the nature of magic to intertwine with and contradict itself. By its very nature it was a force that gave rise to the impossible, so what was the use in questioning it?

The Nothing was real, and there were monsters within it trying to claw their way back into reality. That was the fact of the matter. Asterion was trapped, his power devoted to holding back evils so reviled that every trace of them had been erased—and when put that way, it was no surprise that those evils were trying to claw their way back. Such evils were nothing if not tenacious.

Cale was all too familiar with this. He had dealt with no small number of them throughout his lives, after all. He'd probably sent several of them to the Nothing himself. Even in the cases where he hadn't done it personally, how many mages had he trained, over the centuries? How many of them had become legends in their own right, banishing all sorts of monsters to protect their kin? And how many legends had they trained in turn?

He didn't really know how much of the Nothing he was responsible for, but he would wager that it was a fair amount of it.

Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done for Asterion, at least for now. Once Leo advanced enough with his magic, it was possible that he would find a way to navigate to the Labyrinth in which Asterion was fighting his war, and perhaps then there was something that could be done.

But this was where Leo's second idea came in.

"We can't do anything about it directly," Leo explained. "But the Streaming ritual has to account for the Nothing, or else it would catapult us into that instead of through the Abyss. I'm pretty sure that's one of the parts of the spell that's handled by divine intent. Cale said there's no way to define the Nothing in any runic language."

Cale nodded. "Because it doesn't actually exist," he said. "Or it's not supposed to. You can't avoid something that doesn't exist. Any spell that interacts with the veil is going to target the Abyss by default."

"It might not, if we do it inside a divine void," Leo said.

Cale raised an eyebrow. "This isn't a labyrinth, first of all, so we wouldn't be able to cast the ritual without modifying it significantly," he pointed out. "Also, it's a really bad idea to try to target the Nothing. If you give it an opening into the Great Realms—"

"I know," Leo said, looking sheepish. "Uh, that's not what I meant, sorry. I just meant that if we isolate the projection part of the ritual and cast that here, and compare it to what we get when we cast it outside the Black Vault, we might be able to isolate the part of the magic that would target the Nothing."

"And what exactly do you plan to do with magic that could target the Nothing?" Cale hoped he sounded appropriately concerned, because he was technically supposed to discourage his apprentices from doing stupid things. The problem was that novel magic was exciting to him, and he was bad at hiding it.

Oh well. At least Flia looked appropriately concerned.

"If I can figure out how to target it, I think I could make a spell that would seal it," Leo said. "Not... not actually seal it, I'm not that good. Uh, yet. But the whole reason Asterion has to fight is because they're clawing their way through parts of the Labyrinth, right? The one he's residing in, I mean. And we already know that it traps them as well as Asterion, so if I make a spell that can isolate those regions inside, like, recursive labyrinths of their own—"

Cale coughed. "Getting a bit ahead of yourself, there," he said. "Labyrinths thin the veil, remember? You'd trap them, but you'd also widen the hole they're crawling out of."

Leo flushed and hung his head. "Right," he said. "I just thought... maybe if I could give him a reprieve..."

"You'd lessen the effects of the curse," Cale said, and Leo nodded, though he didn't look Cale in the eyes. He hadn't entirely decided to help Asterion yet. Cale knew his apprentice was deeply conflicted about the matter.

Leo still blamed Asterion for the way he'd been treated by his family and his village, but it was an emotional thing. He knew intellectually that Asterion wasn't at fault, but he struggled to get his heart to acknowledge the matter. For now, it was easier for him to claim his efforts were to cure the curse, even if the truth was a little more complicated.

"It's not a bad idea," Cale said, trying to be encouraging. Leo looked up at him, hopeful. "You probably don't want to use more labyrinth magic to seal them away, but you're right that you could use this to target the affected parts of the Labyrinth and seal them off with a different kind of magic. Even if you couldn't, Asterion himself probably could. I'm sure finding where they're coming through would make a huge difference."

Leo blinked, processing this. "Right," he said again, his tone brighter now. "Right! I could—yeah, I think if I just develop a spell to find the parts where the veil is weakest and connected to the Nothing—"

"There you go." Cale smiled at Leo, noting with amusement that his other apprentices seemed relieved. They hadn't wanted to risk blowing a hole open into the Nothing, either. "We can give it a try, but I have a condition."

"What is it?" Leo asked.

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"I'll do the projection part of the ritual myself, and we'll compare notes afterward," Cale said. "You can't be in here when I do it. Neither can anyone else, for that matter. The Black Vault is isolated from the rest of the realm, so if anything goes wrong, we won't cause all of Utelia to be invaded."

"Is that a risk?" Leo seemed alarmed, now. "It's just a projection spell—it doesn't break the veil, it just sets a vector for the rest of the ritual—"

"The risk is minimal," Cale assured his apprentice, though the risk of breaking a path open into the Nothing was actually zero. Leo was right: all that part of the ritual would do was identify an appropriate direction for the Stream. There was a risk to casting it, but that risk had nothing to do with what he'd implied.

He had a guess now as to the nature of the Black Vault and the identity of the shadow that kept appearing within it. If he was right, then it was watching him, waiting for the right moment to confront him.

Cale didn't particularly like being jumped, so he was going to make the first move. There was someone in the Black Vault at all hours now, between the nocturnal students and the ones that didn't need to sleep. This ritual gave him the perfect excuse to get everyone else to leave—he was almost certain the shadow would confront him then.

If not, he could always force the issue. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

The last of the students left the Black Vault, its entrance clicking shut behind them; for the first time in days, Cale was entirely alone within its depths. There was something eerie about that, but that was the nature of the Black Vault in general; it wasn't that much of a surprise.

"Well?" Cale called. The sound of his voice dissipated into the depths of the Vault, absorbed by the nothingness of the void within it. "You can come out now. Don't make me drag you out."

Nothing. Cale let out an exasperated sigh, then took a few steps outside the stable region of the Vault, just in case that was the issue. The anchors that served to ward and stabilize the space around the entrance mostly prevented mages from getting lost and allowed them to set up equipment without it simply rotting away—outside the range of their influence, Cale felt the divine void grow even more oppressive, like it was eating away at his soul.

Also, his clothing. Cale batted it away irritably. The void would rot his clothes if he let it, and he had no interest in explaining to any professor or student why he was emerging from the Black Vault naked. Who knew what sorts of rumors they would start about him then?

Thankfully, it didn't take long before something in the distance responded to his presence. Once again, Cale felt the distinct sensation of the shadow flickering into existence, then the weight of its attention: it had noticed him.

Or he had noticed him, rather. The shadow was quite masculine in nature. Cale could only see the barest outline of him against the void, so it was difficult to identify any other defining features. No doubt everything this man had once possessed had been lost to the void long ago. He was little more than a shape, now. A mind that had largely melded with the divine void itself.

How that was possible Cale had no idea, and if he hadn't been concerned about the way it was watching him, his predominant emotion would have been excitement. Who knew what there was to learn from this man? How long had he been here, and what had he discovered in all that time?

And if he had merged with the divine void, then he must have forsaken all faith in the gods of his time. How had he known to do that, and why had he done it? Was there something to be gained? Did he perhaps know a means of breaking the divine cycle, or a way to avoid the negative effects of the Dark?

Cale was getting distracted again. The shadow's attention was singularly and intensely fixated on him, which might have been flattering if not for how predatory that focus seemed.

...It was kind of flattering anyway.

"You're the Lost King, I presume?" Cale asked. "Is there a reason you've been watching me?"

The shadow's attention intensified for a moment. Cale felt the impression of... surprise, along with a hint of regret. "So the stories of me survive," the Lost King said. "I do not like that title. It implies that I am lost. That I do not know my way."

He snapped his fingers, and though Cale didn't turn to look, he knew the Lost King had done something to seal the Vault—the stable region vanished from his senses, and no trace of the entrance seemed to remain.

"I know the Vault as well as I once knew every passage within my castle," the Lost King said. "I know it as well as I once knew every curve and dimple upon my Queen's skin."

"I'm not sure I needed to know that second part," Cale said, making a face.

"I am not lost, Cale Cadwell Cobbs," the King continued. Cale frowned. Had he introduced himself? He didn't think anyone had even referred to him by his full name while he'd been in the Vault. "I have not been lost for a very long time. You will need something else to call me. Let me see... Hmm. I have not needed a name for such a long time. Prophet, perhaps? Or... no. You may refer to me as Seer."

"As a name?" Cale blinked. "Weird choice, but sure, I guess. You still haven't told me why you're spying on me."

"Spying is not the right word," Seer said. "I caught a glimpse of you in eons past—I do not remember how long it has been. And I have been... captivated, shall we say."

"Mildly creepy, but I'm into it, so go on," Cale said.

"The Vault shows me so many of your secrets." Seer didn't seem to notice that Cale had even spoken. He circled Cale, the weight of his attention never once fading, like he was scrutinizing every pore. "You suspect it already, do you not? That the veil is thin here. That the divine keeps the Nothing at bay, and that without their influence, I can glimpse its secrets. I can see what you are and what you have done. Mad Mage, Yggdrasil's End, Wanderer and Slayer, Bringer of Hope and End of Glory..."

Cale stiffened, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes," Seer said. "I know it all. You pride yourself in your knowledge, do you not? In what you know of the realms? But how much of it do you remember? Because I know it all. I have seen it all. Every victory and every failure."

"Still not seeing the point," Cale said.

"You have done so much," Seer said. "I regret that I must do this, but I cannot allow you to leave. Your strength is both a boon and a threat. If I do not keep you here, then it is only a matter of time before you end the Realms again."

Ah. That was what Seer had been waiting for. It was an elegant trap: the Black Vault was so isolated from the realms as a matter of function that simply blasting his mana would get him nowhere. Cale was glad he'd asked his apprentices to leave—at least they weren't trapped here with him.

"And I can't convince you to let me out?" Cale asked, keeping his voice even. His mind was already racing, trying to find another way out. He had the Streaming ritual and a number of spells, and if he could identify the right vector to head back to Utelia...

"Perhaps in a few centuries," Seer said. "I must be convinced of your control. That you will not repeat the tragedy of Yggdrasil. I must see all that you would do."

Seer raised a hand, and there was a terrible sensation of ripping—of a veil being torn with far more precision than should have been possible. Cale started, then flared his magic into his barriers defensively.

"You will face your pasts," Seer said. "You will face all that you have done. Then I will... consider freeing you."

"This is really starting to sound like you just want me to put on a show for you," Cale said.

"I will not... deny that there is some element of truth to that." Seer seemed far too pleased with himself, though he hid it well. "But it matters not. That is not why I have trapped you."

"Sure." Cale rolled his eyes. At least he hadn't brought anyone else into this mess with him—

Right on cue, Irides appeared out of thin air, spinning wildly in aggravation. "This guy's a fraud, dammit!" he shouted. "Why can no one tell? No one could have done half the stuff he claims to have done!"

Cale and Seer both stared at the fellrune. "How did you even get in here?" Cale asked.

"I followed you and hid, obviously," Irides said. "You were being suspicious."

"His feats are true, I assure you," Seer said, though he seemed annoyed by the fact that Irides had slipped beneath his notice. "But I suppose you will see for yourself, soon enough. Hopefully you die quickly. You were not... the one I wanted to watch."

"Okay, seriously, just because you haven't talked to anyone in centuries doesn't mean you get to be that creepy," Cale said.

Seer shrugged, then pointed at the part of the veil he had torn—

—and the first of many monsters that Cale had fought long ago burst forth.