Three cycles of the sun later, the pair arrived at their designated location. It was impossible to miss – a massive quarry carved into the solid rock, plunging leagues deep into the earth.
As they approached, it became clear that discovering this place had been sheer coincidence. From the surface, there was no sign that anything of significance lay beneath – no markers, no disturbances, nothing to suggest the existence of a site worth exploring.
Riniock and Linry rode their politami to the quarry's edge, gazing at the exposed layers of stone. The split rock walls shimmered with a kaleidoscope of colours – beige, brown, grey, purple, red, yellow, and orange – revealing the desert's hidden heart. A shame such beauty remained unseen from above.
'Who goes there?' a guard halted them as they circled around to the descent path.
'I'm Linry Lotrielle, of the Academy. And this –'
'Riniock Ev Tolgir. Of the College,' he finished.
The guard, a Gorlean, studied them with an impassive gaze. He recognised neither of them – not surprising. Linry, an Ikshari, was an unfamiliar face in Gorlean circles, and Riniock had only recently joined, making him just as much a stranger.
Reaching for a list, the guard scanned through the names, all of them already crossed out – no doubt those who had arrived earlier.
'There you are,' he said, pointing at their names. 'Last two to arrive. Get down there quickly, or you'll miss the briefing.'
'Thank you, sir.'
The descent was treacherous.
Wooden beams, likely supplied by the Gorleans given the land's barrenness, were braced against the quarry walls, forming a spiralling path to the bottom. Scattered along the way, makeshift platforms jutted from the stone – checkpoints where researchers examined the quarry's depths.
Half an hour later, the pair reached the base, where countless students had gathered. Some sharpened their wits in hushed discussions, whilst others meticulously checked their equipment, preparing for whatever lay ahead.
And looming behind them all – a colossal door.
'This is the entrance?' Riniock asked as he stepped off the last wooden beam, his gaze drawn upward.
'It must be. Look at the carvings…' Linry murmured.
Riniock nodded. 'Etching details into metal is no easy feat. Whoever did this was both skilled and patient.'
'You think this was the work of a single person?' Linry turned to him, sceptical but invested.
'Most likely. The strokes, the symmetry – everything is too consistent. It has the mark of one hand, not many.'
'That's actually terrifying to think about…'
'Mhm.'
Their arrival did not go unnoticed.
Disgusted glances flicked their way from both magickal factions. The air between the Gorleans and the Iksharis crackled with silent animosity, a near-visible tension that made it a wonder no outright conflict had broken out. They exchanged glares like drawn daggers, each side unwilling to look away first.
But none dared act – not with the high maegi present.
Talien stood perched on an elevated platform, watchful and composed, his gaze sweeping over the gathering. Beside him, an Ikshari man stood in quiet authority, an unmistakable aura of power surrounding him.
'Riniock!' Niann strode towards them, carrying the belongings entrusted to him. Raising his arms, he presented them. 'Here you go. I brought everything you asked me to safeguard.'
'Thanks,' they both said.
'Come along. The briefing starts soon.'
Riniock nodded and followed Niann, taking his place near the Gorlean students in the waiting area. As he blended in with them, Siegmun caught sight of him – only to quickly avert his eyes.
Suspicious, but not worth dwelling on.
They lingered in restless anticipation until the high maegi silenced the murmuring crowd with a single, deliberate cough. Though his demeanour remained composed, something in his voice, in the way he carried himself, weighed heavily on every mind present.
Talien stepped forward, resting a hand on the railing that separated his platform from the students below.
'Death!'
His first word alone sent a chill through the assembly, the weight of it settling in their chests.
'Death awaits any who cross this threshold. It claims the careless, the arrogant, the cowardly.'
Visible unease spread through the crowd. Only a few remained composed, unmoved by the ominous warning.
'Though we have cleared the first section of the temple, do not mistake this for an easy expedition. Beyond lies what appears to be a long-lost temple – one that once belonged to an evil cult. Traps, perhaps creatures of eldritch nature, await within. Some of you may return. Some may not. From this point forward, fate is no longer ours to know.'
'May I say a few words, High Maegi Talien?' the Ikshari maegi beside him asked, stepping forward to the railing.
Talien gave a nod and stepped aside, allowing the man to speak his mind.
'Though this expedition is a joint effort, beyond the threshold, your survival is solely your own responsibility. Since only students of acolyte rank are permitted entry, it is only fair that each of you faces your own challenges and opportunities.'
Talien, sensing the man's cryptic phrasing, interjected. 'In short, what Master Eglenn means is that anything you find inside is yours to keep. You may travel with your peers or venture alone if you wish. What happens within those walls remains unknown to us.'
A hand shot up from the crowd – Niann's.
'Yes, Mr. Nodahr?' Talien acknowledged him with a sigh, already anticipating trouble from his own nephew.
'Mhm. Why is it that only acolytes are allowed inside?' Niann asked, his tone pressing on an unspoken tension. 'Would it not be safer to send older students or even staff?'
His uncle shot him a withering scowl. Talien parted his lips to respond, but Eglenn spoke first.
'It's a matter of politics,' the master explained honestly. 'Your college discovered the site, but it was our researchers and excavators who unearthed it. When neither side could claim full rights, we settled on a compromise – acolytes alone would be permitted entry. That way, whatever you find belongs solely to you, not to the institutions.'
'I'm sorry, but nothing more can be disclosed,' Talien said sharply, shooting the man a murderous glare. The latter only smirked, stepping back a few paces. 'Satisfied or not, this is the only answer we will give.'
Niann lowered his head and slipped away into the crowd of students.
'Good. If there are no further questions…' With a flick of his hands, the massive metallic doors groaned open, splitting apart with a deafening screech.
A thick cloud of dust billowed out as the entrance yawned wide. Beyond the threshold, only pitch-black darkness awaited. The air that seeped through carried the weight of ages past – a sharp, musty scent that curled into their nostrils, making a few recoil instinctively.
'In an orderly fashion, proceed inside.'
One by one, or in pairs, the students of Gorlea and Ikshar crossed the threshold. The moment they stepped through, a strange chill seeped into their bones – a stark contrast to the relentless heat of the barren wasteland they had endured for days.
Riniock, Linry, and others in their circle were amongst the last to enter. As soon as the final student passed through, the doors trembled and began to close.
'Good luck,' Talien called after them, his silhouette barely visible through the narrowing gap before the entrance sealed shut.
Complete darkness engulfed them. Only when a few maegis cast illumination charms did the tunnel ahead come into faint view, their spells carving out small pockets of light in the abyss.
They pressed forward, the group descending into disorder – some pushed ahead, others shoved aside, a few even knocked to the ground. As the high maegi had so eloquently stated: What happens within these walls remains unknown to us.
It quickly became evident that the first section of the temple held little of interest.
Empty pedestals stood eerily in place, as if whatever once rested upon them had long since been taken. Despite the passage of time, the walls remained remarkably well-preserved, untouched by decay.
'Those symbols…what are they?' Linry asked, her mouth slightly agape. 'I've never seen anything like them before.'
'This is ancient! Ag Nargim,' Niann explained, 'the root language of the world. I don't know how to translate it, but these look like some kind of chant.'
'A ritual?' she asked.
'Possibly. Or a prayer.'
She nodded. 'Right. This place did belong to a cult, after all.'
They took a moment to examine the inscriptions, the elegant yet unnerving script stretching across the walls. Interspersed amongst the text were ancient drawings – scenes that hinted at a forgotten tale, though none provided clear insight into which entity had been worshipped here.
'What's this?' Riniock's voice pulled their attention forward. 'Looks like a chamber.'
'Seems like it, yes.'
As they made their way inside, they found themselves amongst the last to arrive. The students had come to a standstill, waiting, uncertain.
This was, without a doubt, the end of the first cleared section Talien had mentioned. Beyond this point, no one had ventured – whatever lay ahead would be untouched, unclaimed.
But, as expected, it wouldn't be that simple.
The chamber they entered was a vast dome, its ceiling stretching so high that even the strongest illumination spells failed to reveal it. Around the perimeter, set into the dark stone walls, hung peculiar frames forged from solargold, their gleam a stark contrast against the surrounding gloom.
'What's wrong?' Riniock pushed through the crowd towards Siegmun, who stood alongside Irgod, both deep in thought.
Siegmun turned to him, his expression grim. 'There's no visible way forward. Just this lever in the centre of the room.'
Indeed, a golden lever stood alone at the heart of the chamber. Dust collected on top of it.
Riniock scanned their surroundings. Aside from the gleaming frames and the lever, the only other notable features were four massive, golden vats, each fitted with intricate pumps that burrowed into the walls.
It was clear that the lever was the key to progressing. But pulling it without knowing its function was a tremendous risk – it could just as easily spell their doom.
Even Irgod hesitated, his usual confidence shaken.
'Cousin.' Niann's voice rang out from across the room. He knelt beside one of the golden frames, inspecting its base.
'Niann? Did you find something?' Siegmun asked, stepping closer.
Niann nodded, motioning for him to come nearer. 'Look here – ancient numerals.' He pointed at the base of the contraption.
Siegmun squinted at the markings. 'What do they mean?'
'Coordinates. I'm certain these frames are portals.'
'You're certain?' Siegmun pressed.
'Yes. The lever should activate them – all of them.'
'A–All of them? There are hundreds of these frames!'
'Which means hundreds of different coordinates – hundreds of different destinations.'
Was such a thing even possible?
Many silently questioned it. Even the most advanced cities had no more than a handful of these long-distance gateways, typically linking different districts or connecting to select locations beyond city borders.
But here? If Niann was right, and these truly were portals, then the possibilities were limitless.
'Then there's only one thing left to do,' Irgod declared, stepping forward. Without hesitation, he grasped the tip of the lever.
The metal resisted, grinding and shrieking as he fought to move it. With one final push, the lever snapped into position.
The ground trembled, sending several students stumbling. A sharp hiss echoed through the chamber as steam vented from unseen mechanisms. Gears groaned and clicked, their movement reverberating deep within the walls.
'Look!' someone shouted. 'The portals are activating!'