The surface of the sea rippled rhythmically, distorting the reflection of the seven Moons in the sky. It was morning, and yet all of them were clearly visible, watching down upon Dallion’s realm.
“They’ve been there for a week now,” Dallion said from the top of Harp’s tower. “I guess they can’t wait for me to return to the real world.”
“The Moons are always watching,” the nymph replied as she played on her harp of water.
“Do you think I should go?” Dallion asked.
He had improved quite a bit, although there was still something to be desired. A few more months of training was certain to be of help. He could practice on his skill combinations, maybe learn some new types of attacks—even if that was unlikely, considering his current gear. Maybe he could attempt another trial. The main issue remained food. The pain and fatigue had long vanished, but thirst and hunger kept on growing, to the point it was getting difficult keeping them at bay with mind tricks. According to Nil, reaching a mind trail value of eighty would be enough to do away with all such notions. True or not, Dallion was too far away from that goal to care.
“Yes.” Came the reply.
Blobs of emotion appeared throughout her, letting Dallion know that it wasn’t an easy decision for her. Unfortunately, his music vision only went so far—it gave the emotions of a person, though not what stood behind them.
“See you after.” Dallion turned around and leapt off the tower.
The firebird instantly appeared, enveloping Dallion and granting him wings of blue flames.
“Get me somewhere even,” Dallion said. To reduce the shock of returning to the real world, it was beneficial to get a running start. “Gleam, good luck.”
You believe in luck too much, the shardfly replied. Worry about yourself.
The moment Dallion’s feet touched the ground, he dashed forward. A dozen seconds later, he was back to the real world. The shift caused a momentary wobble, causing him to swerve slightly.
Go! he heard Gleam shout in his awakening realm.
The sound of steel shattering steel boomed above. With one of his instances, Dallion looked up to see what was going on. There was no sign of the enemy shardfly, but his whip blade was falling to the ground at great speed. Looking closely, Dallion could see the cord holding the blade fragments cut in two. Parts of the weapon flew down, as if struck by an invisible force. Unfortunately, he had no time to linger. All but one of Dallion’s instances vanished, replaced by a hundred new ones, most of which were sprinting at full speed towards the tunnel heading into the canyon cliffs.
Gripping his harpsisword tightly, Dallion struck the ground, just enough to cause the weapon to vibrate.
The subsequent strike didn’t occur until ten seconds later, less than fifty feet from the tunnel—just as Dallion had expected it would. Similar to the echo’s attacks during the trial, it distorted the sounds created by the harpsisword, allowing Dallion to determine its direction. Unlike the trial, though, it was a lot stronger.
Dallion managed to turn around and block it using both harpsisword and shield. Even then, a dozen of his instances were pushed back with tremendous force. Seven instances were crushed beneath the weight of the attack, bones shattering as they were driven into the ground. Most of the rest were scattered like bowling pins.
“Lux, boost me!”
Bleu flames emerged from the dartblade as it propelled Dallion forward. All but one of the instances faded away. The sudden acceleration proved enough to confuse the shardfly. A series of attacks followed, yet all of them hit the ground moments after Dallion had already flown through. Once he entered the tunnel, it was all over. Finally, he was safe.
Stop! He said in his realm, unable to voice the words with his mouth. Gleam, how are you?
There was no answer.
Things don’t look good, Gen—one of Dallion’s caretaker echoes—said. The bridge is split in three and there’s no sign of her.
Are the parts still standing? Dallion asked.
Looks like.
That gave him some hope. If the bridge hadn’t crumbled completely, it meant that the link to the item was still in effect, which meant the item was considered whole… to a degree. Once he’d done what he had come for, Dallion could go back, retrieve the whip blade, and mend it. Just in case, he ordered Lux to try to heal as much as possible of the bridge, using his healing flames. With luck, there wasn’t going to be any need for him until Dallion reached the top of the mountain.
Hitting the tracks with the tip of his blade, Dallion kept on walking. Several hundred feet in, the light from the tunnel had all but disappeared, leaving him in darkness. Sound was the only means through which Dallion could see in the immediate area around him. It wasn’t exactly echo-location, but combining it with his other senses, it would let him know if anything hostile attacked. As for traps, holes, and other obstacles, Dallion reverted back to splitting into a dozen instances.
Fortunately for him, the trip was uneventful. Other than a few insect nests, there wasn’t anything remotely dangerous in the tunnel. Only the weakest creatures in the entire southern canyon had sought to hide here, and were by no means eager to fight someone as strong as Dallion. All of them without exception, scurried away as soon as he approached. From here on, the only enemy was time.
Are you sure you’re going the right way, dear boy? Nil asked. You’ve passed by several tunnels so far.
I thought echoes weren’t the type to use magic to peek into the real world.
I’ve done no such thing! The old echo grumbled. I’m no more aware of your surroundings than you are. And I know for a fact that you have kept on going along a straight line for half a day now.
Half a day? Dallion had lost track of time. Somehow it seemed a lot less, as if it had only been an hour since his encounter with the spectral shardfly. In truth, he was still holding hope that Gleam would emerge in his realm any moment now and curse at him in her typical fashion.
People come and go, Nil began. Echoes and guardians are no different.
She’s fine. The bridge is still there.
The bridge is part of your realm. You don’t even know if the link to the whip blade is still in effect.
Let’s not talk about that now…
I’m trying to help you, dear boy. Having this weight down on you could be detrimental when you meet the aetherbird. You’re an empath, so you know how transient life is, especially for items. There is no doubt that Gleam will be missed. I was rather fond of the creature myself, but unless you’re a Moon, there’s no denying reality. She is gone.
Dallion quickened his pace. Deep down he was fully aware of the possibility, just as Gleam herself was. The familiar knew she was no match for a shardfly of that level, and had still gone to her own slaughter all for the sake of Dallion. A few years ago, Dallion would have called it unfair. After being a hunter for a year—centuries, if he counted the time he spent in the awakened realms—he accepted it as part of life. Even so, he still wasn’t willing to fully accept that Gleam was gone.
For several more hours, he kept on walking until he felt his strength diminishing to the point that he had to stop. The lack of food, and the constant pressure he had subjected himself to, had brought Dallion to the breaking point. At one point, he just stopped, lying on the tracks, his back against the wall of the tunnel, and went to sleep. Lux and Ruby were left on guard. Out of habit, Dallion had almost asked Gleam to keep an eye on the forward part of the tunnel.
The nap felt brief, despite it lasting for nine hours. Dallion stretched, checked if Gleam had appeared in his realm, then continued along the tunnel without having a sip of water. Lux and Ruby followed.
After several more hours, the shape of the tunnel changed. It was only at this point that Dallion allowed Lux to light up so he could get a better look at his surroundings.
The section he found himself in was significantly larger than expected, full of multiple tracks, and—for the first time—train carts. They seemed very different from what Dallion remembered from Earth, as if someone had tried to recreate the vehicles from memory, but had made certain aesthetic and technological compromises. The best way to describe them was large wagons with metal wheels.
The whole area looked like a train depot. In the distant past, dozens of trains must have come and gone through here. Curious, Dallion went upon one. Other than the design there was nothing unusual: large seats, large windows, and empty spaces where the doors were supposed to be. Whoever had built them, apparently didn’t consider doors being a vital part of the wagon. There was no telling what the power source was, though Dallion suspected it had to be a form of magic, similar to the light crystals. None of the trains he examined had any engines, suggesting that the large bulky metal objects attached beneath the wheels must have provided energy. Whatever the case, it was for another time. Right now, Dallion had to make his way to the foot of the mountain, then climb it.
Almost remarkable, Nil said as Dallion jumped off the wagon he was on.
“Almost?”
Everything the Star has provided is almost remarkable. From advice to technology. That’s why it’s so risky coming here. A lot of the Academy’s major mishaps came from people using artifacts they didn’t know anything about. The rest came from people who knew exactly what they were doing with them.
“Mages like blowing things up,” Dallion said cynically. “What else is new?”
Usually, the point is to try and avoid getting themselves blown up. So, where to now?
“From what I remember of the map, there’s a stairway up leading to the surface. From there we walk to the mountain. Should take us a day or two to reach the top.”
More than enough time… if you still want to go through this.
“Not this again…” Dallion sighed.
I’m not planning to persuade you otherwise. I know you’re too stubborn for that. I won’t stop telling you that you’ve got a choice. Once you reach the peak, there might be no turning back.
“There never is.”
It took a while for Dallion to find the stairway leading up. While the map he had seen in his dream was accurate, it didn’t account for the debris clogging the space. On several occasions, he had to use point attacks to clear his way, at times collapsing flights of stairs as a result. Thankfully, his current level of athletic and acrobatic skills allowed him safely to jump his way to a stable section and continue the ascent.
The further Dallion went, the worse things became. On several occasions, Nox mentioned he felt the presence of cracklings, only to be ignored. Dallion was in no mood for pointless skirmishes. The floors ranged in the hundreds, suggesting that this section of the city had risen to the sky. For some reason, it made Dallion think of the Tower of Babel. He never regarded himself as religious, but he knew the stories revolving around it. There was no telling whether he was right. For all he knew, the entire structure could have been built underground. The punishment it suffered, though, was equally disastrous.
Hours of climbing later, Dallion finally saw what he was aiming for—a star filled sky. Not a single moon was present, making the constellations all the more visible. There was a more remarkable aspect to the view. Until now, Dallion had assumed that the mountain was beyond the city’s remains. As it turned out, the city remains were the mountain itself. The tall rock exterior covered hundreds of floors, which even now rose to the heavens. All that was left now was to reach the top.