The bedroom is dark; my eyes don’t adjust well to the light since I’m not physically present. Euryphel is considerate enough to turn on a small flashlight–it’s either that or illuminating the large chandelier on the ceiling and revealing that he’s awake to anyone surveilling his window. I don’t think he’s paranoid–his star in the west is ascendant, casting long shadows. While the inner palace should be safe from unscrupulous eyes, should isn’t sufficient assurance.

“Karanos says there might be as many as five hundred people in attendance,” I say, leaning to the side while sitting cross-legged on the parquet floor.

Euryphel peers down from his bed, his arms wrapped around the bedpost. “What percent of his faction is that?”

I shake my head. “Not sure. The faction isn’t a proper organization, but more like a loose group of people with similar principles. Almost like a congressional party.” I chuckle. “I used to wonder why nobody mentioned the name of Karanos’ faction. Turns out it’s literally just called ‘the faction’ by most of its members.”

Euryphel made a face. “There must be some kind of executive structure–they couldn’t pick an actual name?”

“I think they did, but Karanos’ subfaction doesn’t approve of it. It’s honestly rather confusing, and Karanos has been skimping on details.”

The Crowned Executor's expression darkened. “Do you think he’s trying to keep you in the dark, off kilter?”

“No... I think this faction business is genuinely tedious for him to deal with, to the point that he avoids talking about it unless necessary.” I trace the grain of the wood floorboards with a finger. “He answers all my questions, but each response leaves me feeling more out of my depth. I thought the faction would be simple–an organization dedicated to grooming ascendants to foster peace and prosperity, prolonging the existence of worlds rather than speeding up their demise.”

Euryphel sighs. “Why on earth did you ever think that what you described would be simple?”

“The purpose is straightforward. But more than that...everyone who is a member of the faction is an ascendant, the best of the best from their respective worlds. People who don’t need coddling or babysitting. Why would such people make their faction needlessly convoluted, with numerous different subfactions and political schemes?”

“It’s no wonder it turned out like that when everyone is immortal,” Euryphel says. “I can’t even fathom the state of the SPU’s politics if the old blood never died out. For the new to rise, the old must die–it’s a natural process.”

“But since people stick around...” I trail off.

Euryphel nods thoughtfully. “Eventually the original organization is made irrelevant by its own burgeoning size, and smaller inner factions take precedence, and perhaps eventually splinter off. Sounds like that’s exactly what happened to Karanos’ faction.”

I stand and walk over to the window. Small floating lanterns keep the darkness at bay in the connected courtyards of the inner palace. Despite the early hour–dawn is imminent–a number of young practitioners are studying together on stone and wood benches.

“It’s so peaceful here,” I murmur. “It’s odd when everyone is so carefree, so ignorant of reality.”

“It’s better that way.” Euryphel slides off the bed and joins me.

“Are things still proceeding well in Sere?”

He shrugs. “As well as they can be–it’s quiet now. We’re waiting and watching.”

I bump his shoulder. “You haven’t asked me to do any other missions.”

“It’s scarcely been two weeks,” he retorts. “It takes time to research and plan. But in all honesty, I don’t think we’ll need you for most of our operations. Sere was a unique case because they had strict countermeasures against Soolemar’s necromancy. Normally, he would be able to scout out an Infinity Loop’s location with constructs.”

“I’m glad that the Darkseers have things figured out.”

“Just focus on accomplishing things on your end,” Euryphel says. “And if I do need you, I won’t hesitate to ask for help. Your transmission artifact is versatile, so I expect we’ve barely scratched the surface regarding its uses.”

I hum in agreement.

“How much time do you have?” he asks.

“Karanos said we’re leaving tomorrow, so several hours.”

Euryphel’s voice is steady. “In that case, we could go somewhere. Anywhere, really.”

Before, I wouldn’t have thought anything of those words. But now, knowing his feelings... a small swell of discomfort rises in my stomach. “It’s not worth being discovered,” I reply. “Besides, I know you’re busy. If you can spend time with me, you should spend that time sleeping. It worries me to see you so exhausted.”

“What makes you so sure? It’s not like you can see my vital signature.”

“Eury...when I appeared here, you were awake in bed, just staring at the ceiling. Do you think me a fool?”

He doesn’t reply. Rather than tensing up, knuckles turning white, he remains impassive, almost as though he’s too exhausted to muster a reaction.

“Just get help already,” I whisper.

“I am,” he says, his voice rough. “A therapist.”

I stare at him blankly. “I meant a Life practitioner. You know, someone to make you exhausted, so sleep overcomes you.”

“I suppose...” He seems unconvinced.

“Just ask Guardian Wolfien.” To my knowledge, Wolfien is the highest affinity Life practitioner in the SPU.

He gingerly crosses his arms, the limbs still sensitive from Ari’s attack. “I’ll look into it.”

—

Later, Maria joins me in my tent. “It’s been a while since you last spoke to him,” she says, raising an eyebrow. She rests her head on my chest.

“Only to us. We spend most of our time in dilated space, and the time spent without is precious. I don’t have many opportunities to check in on our world.”

I caress Maria’s circlet, pinching the smooth blue curve between my fingers.

“Are you starting to have second thoughts about bringing me?” she suddenly asks.

“What? No.”

“I can always stay here; you could pick me up on your way back.”

I push her off my chest and sit up so we can have a proper conversation. “Did Karanos say something?”

“No. But I can’t get over his original advice for me not to come.”

“Crystal,” I say, on the assumption that the fish is listening in as always. “What do you think? Should Maria come?”

“Maria is unique–other eccentrics of the same mind as Cayeun Suncloud will be interested in her. Karanos’ thoughts are well guarded, but I suspect that is one of the primary unspoken reasons why he hesitates to bring her.”

Maria and I share a quizzical expression. “Why didn’t he mention anything like that before?” she asks.

“You can guess for yourselves. Now sleep–even you, Maria. You will need to be well-rested for tomorrow.”

—

“New day, new dawn,” Karanos says, sighing contentedly.

I snort. This plane only has a coil of yellow and pink energy as a light source. It doesn’t even rotate, so the plane is permanently in a state of dawn. Though we still think in terms of cycles of the day–morning, afternoon, and evening–the words lack the same significance on this kind of plane.

“More like forever dawn,” Crystal remarks.

I crack up, not expecting her to be so aggressive after just getting up.

Karanos completely ignores her. “Ian, get on Sah. Crystal, keep that dragon on his best behavior and suit up.

Walking over to Sah, I hold out my hand. The dragon grunts once like a rebellious teen before nuzzling it, closing his eyes. His snout is nearly hot enough to burn me.

The dragon crouches down on the ground. As I approach him from behind, his tail thrases out.

“Sah!” I curse and mount his back, settling into the space behind his neck. A leather saddle is already fastened, its bindings looped and knotted around the dragon’s torso. Sah’s been wearing it the past few days to get used to it.

He chuffs victoriously, but my practice freezes his body. His beady eyes widen in child-like confusion.

“Ian, do not be a child,” Crystal admonishes, catching me in the act of doling out punishment.

“You baby him too much,” I grumble. “Remember the last time he hit me with his tail?” It had been when we were first testing out the saddle a few days ago. “He took my head off–and laughed.”

“He was not laughing–dragons cannot laugh,” Crystal retorts. “They gloat.”

Rolling my eyes, I say, “Alright, I’m mounted up.”

That’s the signal for the rest of them to gear up. Maria deactivates her circlet, while Crystal steps into what looks like a thick, gray net. The material springs up, as though a water elementalist is shaping it to engulf her. It doesn’t settle, but instead remains fluid, shifting around her as she walks.

“That’s going to protect Crystal from the void?” I ask dubiously, activating the breathing artifact that Karanos gave me and placing it over my mouth.

“It is rather snug,” Crystal transmits. “I feel protected.”

I suddenly become self-conscious of how informal our group looks. I’m wearing Suncloud’s practical travel coat and pants, while Maria is dressed in a rather simple black shirt and thick pants. Karanos wears the same dark robes he usually does. “Should we be dressed up?” I wonder. “We are going to an event.”

“There will be time to change when we’re through the void,” Karanos says. “Now Maria, will you do the honors?”

She steps forward into a martial stance, flashing a grin. “Absolutely.” She snaps her foot forward and scrapes at the plane, but is unable to cut through. As though personally affronted, she chuckles bitterly, then kicks out again, following the strike with two sharp jabs. The plane tears between her fingers and she pulls it apart.

Karanos helps her to widen the plane, tearing it like paper until there’s a gap big enough for Sah to pass through.

“All right, Ian and Sah first.”

The dragon beholds the abyssal opening in terror, his heart rate spiking.

“Sah, shh,” I console. I can sympathize–a hole leading to depthless darkness is disconcerting.

Under Crystal’s direction, Sah reluctantly approaches. As he sniffs at the aperture, Maria groans. “Crystal, I can’t hold this plane open forever.”

As Sah finally sticks his head into the void, his entire body freezes. Then, without warning, he leaps forward.

Death energy springs up over me, covering me in slick, overlapping sinews. I ignite ascendant energy over my skin and the energy compresses down over me. It isn’t static, like a suit of armor, but instead the fibers are constantly contracting, buzzing like a hive of insects.

Sah’s wings stretch out to his sides, his legs spaying out awkwardly, as though he’s been plunged unceremoniously into a pool of water. But before the others follow us into the void, he’s already begun swimming–for lack of a better word–in a zigzag pattern, instinct guiding his movements. I can feel the heat emanating from his wings as they pump back, skirting around my legs. He seems to be using thermal energy for propulsion.

After Crystal, Maria, and Karanos enter the void, the veil snaps back and mends itself. Before, we had difficulty communicating when traveling through the emptiness, but Crystal makes communication infinitely easier, transmitting our thoughts.

We follow Karanos for fifteen minutes before Crystal calls for a breath break. Karanos severs the veil, making a hole just big enough for Sah’s head. The dragon looks at the tear like it’s going to eat him alive, but with Crystal’s calming thoughts, he eventually sticks his head through and takes in a gulp of air.

“How do you know which way to go?” Maria asks. “There are no landmarks in this barren place.”

“What have you both been practicing on this journey?”

“Finding planes with certain characteristics,” she says. “By feeling them...” She trails off. “I think I understand. You’re sensing the planes beyond the veil, and using them as landmarks by which to navigate.”

Karanos smiles. “Correct.”

If planes in Eternity were volatile in their connections, shifting around, such a ploy wouldn’t work. But Karanos’ map of even the lost quadrant is still correct years after its creation.

I try to sense for planes in the void, but my ascendant energy is limited. Using it to keep my body from deforming is my limit.

You should give it a try, Maria, I say, speaking over our bond rather than through Crystal.

I already am, she grumbles. I can’t feel much. All the planes are too far away.

“Karanos can only pick up on their traces because of his experience,” Crystal interjects.

Eventually–after numerous breath stops–we finally reach our destination.

Karanos motions for us to come in close. He nods to me, then brings his finger forward. The movement is almost ponderous. As though catching on an invisible crook, his finger pulls downward, the plane splitting as though struck by lightning, arcing away from Karanos’ hand as though afraid.

The other side of the tear in the veil reveals a large dome with high, frescoed ceilings, its walls coarse stone, its floor white marble. It feels consistent with the decor of the Long Hall, where I first arrived and met Holiday.

At Crystal’s direction, Sah flies into the opening. But as soon as we cross the threshold, fifty arrows appear as though from thin air, spiraling menacingly in our direction. Since we’re alone on this side, we can’t hear anything from the other side. Since Sah is big enough to fill the whole opening, I doubt they have any idea what’s going on.

My intuition–honed over the past months–screams for me to stay still, that the arrows are stationary. The danger isn’t that they’ll hit us, but that we’ll impale ourselves on their drill-like heads.

I immediately freeze Sah’s body, giving the dragon no opportunity to hurt himself.

The arrows stop spinning, but remain hovering around us.

With the immediate danger averted, I spare a moment to inspect the surroundings. The building is nearly bereft of all furniture, only a few benches present at the periphery. Neglecting the ornate architecture and frescoes, its layout almost reminds me of an array station terminal, though there aren’t more than thirty people present, leaving the space feeling vacant.

Trying to act nonchalant as their eyes focus on me and Sah, I pluck one of the arrows and inspect it.

Suddenly, Maria pushes into Sah from behind. In an instant, I realize that Sah’s body has been blocking the way in.

The gesture sends Sah straight onto the point of the nearest arrow.