Composed of the same black rock as the waterfalls, the fist is a midnight bastion, stark against the azure sky and the eddying clouds. The light of the false sun limns the fist’s contours, emphasizing the curve of each digit and the arc of its knuckles and palm. The light concentrates on the slight bulge of the wrist, forcing me to avert my eyes from the resulting glare.

Ascendant Cursory uses his wind elementalism to lower us down onto the massive bent joint of the thumb, its width spanning fifty feet across. There is no door, but within fifteen seconds of our arrival, an earth elementalist emerges with a severe, but quizzical expression. Her gaze lingers on my unnaturally dark countenance and the shadowy wraiths that shift over my clothes, as though afraid she’ll lose sight of me against the dark rock.

Lucinda clears her throat.

The newcomer turns back to Lucinda. She brushes bright pink bangs from her eyes and says, “Welcome back. Your presence is requested immediately in the ring finger.”

Lucinda’s gaze hardens. “Whereabouts?”

“The crescent.” Her voice is quiet, the words slightly clipped.

Lucinda smiles pleasantly, but her pulse quickens. She turns to me, bowing her head. “Ancient Black, I must excuse myself. Ascendant Cursory will bring you to your chambers.” Turning to Valent, she says, “You’re coming with me.”

Valent offers no protest.

The pink-haired woman scuffs her foot against the ground and an opening appears in the stone.

Valent immediately hops into it, trailed closely by Lucinda. With another scuff of her foot, the earth elementalist closes the passage and inclines her head to me and Red.

“Ancient Black and Ascendant Red, welcome to the black faction. I am Ascendant Autumnfall.” She nods to our gray-haired associate. “Ascendant Cursory will be your escort while within the walls of Starbreak, as well as within this plane. He will lead you to your quarters in the thumb.” She stomps lightly on the ground and a new passageway manifests on the thumb’s exterior, leading down.

“We are pleased to be guests of the black faction,” Red says. His eyes shift to the dark opening. “Where does this lead?”

“The main atrium of the thumb,” Autumnfall answers succinctly.

My feet glide just over the ground as I approach the aperture, peering down its length. The passage is lightless, but I can sense where it terminates in a thick door. The stone of Starbreak is denser further in. On the palm, hundreds of feet below, I sense people moving behind the shallow wall of the keep. It reminds me of a colony of ants.

Autumnfall says, “Be warned, the rock here is unique. When you enter Starbreak, you will be under its influence.”

I maintain a stoic, aloof countenance. “We are already aware.” To Red, I ask, “What is she talking about?”

“The rock interferes with manipulation of one’s affinity,” he says. “I have never seen anything like it. I had heard rumors about the black faction’s audacity and insanity, but why they would choose to build their stronghold here, I do not know.”

“So, I will be unable to call on my practice?” I ask, alarmed.

“Your affinities will not be fully suppressed, but they will be weakened. Your weaker affinities will be difficult to call upon in any capacity.”

“I’m sure you’ve already grilled Autumnfall and Cursory in scenarios,” I state. “They really said nothing about the purpose of building a keep from this material?”

“It’s to curtail treachery and put an end to paranoia,” he says. “I couldn’t get a more specific answer out of them.”

If this were the real world, where death is permanent, no sane practitioner would ever step foot in the towering black faction stronghold. But death is not permanent, and I am here as a guest. To capture me now would be dishonorable, and there are few things more permanent in Eternity than the stain of dishonor. Finally, in the event we are captured, I am certain that even if the white faction does not rescue us, Achemiss will intervene.

We have business, after all.

“If the rock hinders the use of affinity, how do you manipulate it?” I ask.

Autumnfall purses her lips. “That is a question I will not answer.”

“As you wish,” I state coolly before stepping over the edge of the chute and plummeting into the thumb. Red falls above me. I sense his presence, though my vital perception feels… dimmed, as though I’m looking at the world through gauze. Even my ability to sense Red’s mind is faint, and my mind grows dull and sluggish as my Beginning affinity atrophies.

The effect is deeply disturbing; I’ve never felt anything like this. Even in Discardia, when my lesser affinities were not usable, I still felt them. They were simply locked, disabled. If the lock were broken, I knew that they would return in full strength.

Perhaps a better analogy is wearing a blindfold versus having your eyes scarred or removed.

The chute curves at the end and spits us out onto a fabric mesh. I rise with effort, my Death affinity slow to heed my will. Hovering above the cloth, I cross my arms as Red finds his feet and Cursory buoys himself on a small gust of wind.

The atrium is spacious and open–the sky fills the ceiling, as though we are outdoors.

“The rock of Starbreak has many unique properties,” Cursory says, noticing the direction of my gaze. “This is no illusion; here, the rock acts like a one-way mirror.”

“Here, not everywhere?” I inquire.

He laughs. “If all the rock were selectively transparent, there would be no privacy.” His humor wanes. “I confess that I expected you to react with more hostility toward this place. Having one power muted is unpleasant. Having three powers muted would be even worse.”

I stare at him, offering no sign of agreement or denial.

“You will get used to it,” he finally states, running a hand through his hair. After a slight pause, he waves his hand. “Come; I’ll take you to your rooms.”

—

The silence of my assigned suite is absolute. The walls are thick, but the entire left half of the room appears open to the sky like a massive, curved, floor-to-ceiling window. I must be on the tip of the finger.

There are no arrays, Maria says, her words confident. My affinity is also dulled here, but not so much that I would miss an array in close proximity.

Red leans against the invisible wall with an outstretched hand. His room is attached to mine; after unpacking a few belongings, he’s come to my chambers to discuss our immediate plans.

“Maria says there are no arrays here,” I state mentally. “Is our privacy guaranteed?”

Red replies, “The walls here are thick and block affinity usage; you have told me as much in scenarios. The way to our rooms is sealed with solid rock, opened by a key that supposedly only Cursory and the present leaders of the black faction possess.”

I shake my head. “There are other methods of spying on us. In Eternity, mortals do not develop affinities outside of special circumstances.” I frown. “I have seen what they have accomplished.”

“As have I,” Red says, smiling wistfully. “The wingsuit plane we visited on the way to the competition is a recent favorite.” His expression falters. “Since affinities are weakened in Starbreak, it is more than likely that the black faction leverages mortal technology.”

The wingsuits he’s mentioning were marvels, allowing people to customize how they appeared to others, almost as though they were all covered by Light affinity illusions. The suits also allowed them to safely fly. If that much is possible, creating a glosscam facsimile should be child’s play.

The room could be harboring recording devices with unfamiliar form factors, Maria points out. They might even have recording artifacts that are invisible or blend seamlessly into the rock.

I pull open the void storage sack on my belt. I lost most of my bone inventory by the end of the post-competition melee. Thankfully, I had ample time to restock on the way to Starbreak. Shards of bones stream out around me, along with two large, prismatic soul gems. I crunch one between my palms, then scatter the shards. My bones swarm the soul gem pieces like hungry wolves. The soul gem pieces immediately begin to melt, as is typical when they’re destroyed.

The bone shards appear almost mournful as they hover above the puddles. I roll my eyes and form a fist, willing the shattered soul gem pieces to each reform as a separate gem.

The Death energy liquid coalesces into oily pearls, ultimately hardening into gems with countless tiny facets. The bones clamp onto the gems with a satisfying clink, then retreat slightly, giving the gems space.

I repeat this process for the second prismatic soul gem.

I survey my impromptu swarm and order them to investigate every inch of both my room and Red’s, cracking his door open to permit the constructs entrance.

“They’re like spiders,” Red frowns. “Evil, malformed spiders.”

I give him a dubious look. He’s shown no such reaction to any of the wraiths I keep about myself or the bone wyrm. “Do you have a problem with my constructs, ascendant?”

“Why don’t you fight with those?” he asks. “Some of the smaller ones could enter through an ascendant’s mouth–maybe even their ears or nose–and tear them apart from within.”

That was not the direction I anticipated his response going. I gesture to the constructs as they cover the walls in a tide of pinkish-white bone and say, “They’re as brittle as they are small. Against regulars, your technique has merit, but against ascendants who can enhance their bodies?”

He nods his head in understanding. “A shame.”

“Why?”

“I once directed a program that featured an army of necromantic spiders that destroyed the world. I’d almost forgotten about it.”

I give the bone spiders a few more minutes, but none of them find anything of interest. The rock is smooth and unbroken by any obvious recording devices.

I order the bones to spread out over the walls, floor, and ceiling to shield us from hidden surveillance. Following my desire, they move out of the way as Red and I move about the chamber.

Finally, taking in a sharp breath, I consult Maria on how we might place arrays in the room. We test out creating a simple array on the black wall, the bones parting when we need to draw. To Maria’s surprise, the array immediately begins to destabilize.

Would this place nullify oaths? I wonder, considering the possibilities.

Maria hesitates. I don’t think so. Oaths bind people and things; it might nullify an oath temporarily but would not break one outright. As for creating arrays, it’s possible, but I would need to be physically close to maintain them.

I gesture to the room. We’re here now.

Following Maria’s instructions, I painstakingly inscribe an array on the floor that will mute sound waves that pass through it. My Beginning affinity is unquestionably weakened, but it’s still assisting me in some capacity. I don’t have as much difficulty following Maria’s instructions as when I was in Discardia and couldn’t access the affinity at all. Red helps by repositioning furniture and drawing geometric lines with a piece of chalk, his Regret affinity functional enough that he can obtain instructions in scenarios.

After a full half-hour of toil, more arrays span the walls and even the ceiling, filling the entire space. They will blind and deafen observers while also hiding heat signatures. My bones remain on the walls, blocking outsiders from using vital vision to see our movements.

The arrays are done, Maria says. Let me activate them.

I place my hand upon the massive mandala on the floor. Maria’s energy flows like pleasant, less intense lightning that discharges with a buzz in my fingertips. The End array glows with power but begins to jitter, as though filled with static.

I sense Maria’s power flood the array, pushing past the interference and forcing it to stabilize.

Next, she says.

With each additional array, the strain on her grows. She needs to actively maintain all of them. With End arrays, maintenance is usually minimal; some arrays need power to activate, but that’s different. Rather than activating them, Maria is constantly creating them as the black rock’s interference threatens their integrity. It's an endeavor that requires significant energy and is remarkable considering that her power is weakened.

Thank you, I tell her, wishing I could offer better encouragement.

This is the last one, she replies.

I place my hand onto the final array on the ceiling. This one activates like the others and I collapse onto the bed with a contented sigh.

Ian, have you considered what effect Starbreak might have on your… condition? Maria wonders.

No, I say, what were you thinking?

All your problems started when you gained your third affinity. I know it’s not entirely gone, but maybe it will be enough. Maybe you won’t need me as your regalia.

My chest tightens. That’s a compelling possibility, but even if true… I need to use my affinities.

Not all the time.

I can’t argue with that. Make sure to hide your face, I tell her. With an absent wave of my hand, hundreds of tiny bone fragments fly from my void storage and materialize into a mask the color of dawn.

I hold my hand over my off-hand bracer, prepared to siphon the transformative energy from the regalia into myself.