some kind of pale ghost, but then he pushed his glasses back into place on his nose and the illusion was broken. “You trust me, don’t you Isaac?”
“I do. We have been friends for a long time.”
Jim nodded. “Trust and friendship alone wouldn’t be enough for me to break the silence surrounding my most guarded secrets, such as this place. Having said that, I hope you can begin to understand the magnitude of what is at stake here.”
“Besides my life?”
“Your life and the lives of every mage are infinitesimal compared to the ultimate purpose of the souls they carry. All souls are eternal. Human souls drift across the vast oceans of time and space, shining like dim, distant stars. Were it not for the strange fusion of our once human souls with that of a soul forged in the Tempest, we would drift too—but now we have purpose. The halves of our souls responsible for our ability to perform magic leapfrog through time, travelling from body to body in the care of our Guardians, fulfilling duties and shifting cosmic balance one way or the other. Our Guardians are forbidden to tell us anything about any previous lives our Tempest born souls may have lived, but in every lifetime the purpose of a mage’s soul is presented to those who carry them.”
“And you think you’ve found mine?”
“I do.”
Jim turned and faced the sphere of darkness ahead of them. With a wave of his hand, every last one of the many rings on his fingers began to shine with pale blue light—the signature color of House Pluto—and the darkness shied away from the light. Where a moment ago there had been a dark tunnel to oblivion, the tunnel now opened into a kind of cavern. Seconds later, a number of static torches erupted with blue flame, illuminating the cavern. When Isaac spun around on the spot to take in the vaulted ceiling, the stone murals, and the podium at the center of the room, he noticed the way they had entered wasn’t there anymore.
Instead of an open subway tunnel, there was a small corridor—roughly large enough for two men to walk through, but no more. Isaac saw, on the other side of the tunnel, the train tracks and cables. He had somehow transitioned—without moving—from there to here; wherever here was. What was more, looking through the strangely narrow and elongated tunnel was giving him something like vertigo, causing his head to spin.
He turned away from the opening and focused his attention on the rest of the cavern.
“The nausea will pass,” Jim said, “It’s only temporary.”
Isaac stepped down the slope, toward the center of the vault-like cave. “What is this place?”
“Haven’t you already figured it out?”
“I will in a minute, but if time is short I was hoping you could help me along.”
“Look around. What do you see?”
Isaac saw them. He had seen them the minute he first took in a good eyeful of the place. The dead language of the Void Weavers was present everywhere; etched into the walls and murals, carved into the half-columns surrounding the podium at the center of the room, and on the podium itself. The runes had also been drawn into an ornate silver bowl which rested atop the podium. The bowl was empty, and simple, but there was something beautiful about it; majesty in simplicity.
“This is a temple,” Isaac said. “One of their temples.”
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Jim asked, joining Isaac by the podium.
The earth shuddered lightly, rocking the temple just enough to shake loose earth from the ceiling and causing clouds of dust to fall around them. “Was that a—”
“Train? Yes. We’re directly beneath a junction.”
“So this is still our world?”
“Of course. When the Weavers built this place they designed it so that it could only be accessed with magic, but it is very much a part of the world we know.”
“I’ll do my best to learn as much about these mages as I can,” Isaac said, “Though I doubt this is the reason why you brought me
“I do. We have been friends for a long time.”
Jim nodded. “Trust and friendship alone wouldn’t be enough for me to break the silence surrounding my most guarded secrets, such as this place. Having said that, I hope you can begin to understand the magnitude of what is at stake here.”
“Besides my life?”
“Your life and the lives of every mage are infinitesimal compared to the ultimate purpose of the souls they carry. All souls are eternal. Human souls drift across the vast oceans of time and space, shining like dim, distant stars. Were it not for the strange fusion of our once human souls with that of a soul forged in the Tempest, we would drift too—but now we have purpose. The halves of our souls responsible for our ability to perform magic leapfrog through time, travelling from body to body in the care of our Guardians, fulfilling duties and shifting cosmic balance one way or the other. Our Guardians are forbidden to tell us anything about any previous lives our Tempest born souls may have lived, but in every lifetime the purpose of a mage’s soul is presented to those who carry them.”
“And you think you’ve found mine?”
“I do.”
Jim turned and faced the sphere of darkness ahead of them. With a wave of his hand, every last one of the many rings on his fingers began to shine with pale blue light—the signature color of House Pluto—and the darkness shied away from the light. Where a moment ago there had been a dark tunnel to oblivion, the tunnel now opened into a kind of cavern. Seconds later, a number of static torches erupted with blue flame, illuminating the cavern. When Isaac spun around on the spot to take in the vaulted ceiling, the stone murals, and the podium at the center of the room, he noticed the way they had entered wasn’t there anymore.
Instead of an open subway tunnel, there was a small corridor—roughly large enough for two men to walk through, but no more. Isaac saw, on the other side of the tunnel, the train tracks and cables. He had somehow transitioned—without moving—from there to here; wherever here was. What was more, looking through the strangely narrow and elongated tunnel was giving him something like vertigo, causing his head to spin.
He turned away from the opening and focused his attention on the rest of the cavern.
“The nausea will pass,” Jim said, “It’s only temporary.”
Isaac stepped down the slope, toward the center of the vault-like cave. “What is this place?”
“Haven’t you already figured it out?”
“I will in a minute, but if time is short I was hoping you could help me along.”
“Look around. What do you see?”
Isaac saw them. He had seen them the minute he first took in a good eyeful of the place. The dead language of the Void Weavers was present everywhere; etched into the walls and murals, carved into the half-columns surrounding the podium at the center of the room, and on the podium itself. The runes had also been drawn into an ornate silver bowl which rested atop the podium. The bowl was empty, and simple, but there was something beautiful about it; majesty in simplicity.
“This is a temple,” Isaac said. “One of their temples.”
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Jim asked, joining Isaac by the podium.
The earth shuddered lightly, rocking the temple just enough to shake loose earth from the ceiling and causing clouds of dust to fall around them. “Was that a—”
“Train? Yes. We’re directly beneath a junction.”
“So this is still our world?”
“Of course. When the Weavers built this place they designed it so that it could only be accessed with magic, but it is very much a part of the world we know.”
“I’ll do my best to learn as much about these mages as I can,” Isaac said, “Though I doubt this is the reason why you brought me
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