John Harken

The Sixty spread like a crescent around the center of the golden plains. A few more people poked their heads through the glossy barrier, trying to understand what words had failed to convey. Each returned in silence or sobs. Something was terrorizing to the vision within. The priestly man had looked, but had been no less affected. It was an assault on every level. A degradation of the soul as the land silently screamed.

Silence lay thick as even the Council fell into befouled contemplation. Looking had made discussing the necessary seem impossibly dreadful.

“What the hell is that all about?” asked Clarrisa. She had just slipped out of the smoky dome. Her pale face and wide eyes made it clear that even her legendary cheer was dampened by the ruinous sight.

“A horrible mistake,” stated Harken absently. A rising ghost of a thought slipped past his lips. He couldn’t or wouldn’t refute the words as nonsense. There was a strength of truth to them. The deeper self offering wisdom.

“Not doubting the horrible part, but where does the mistake come from?”

“The poem suggests so, the key line is “failed casting.” And, I am confident that what’s within there, wasn’t intended.”

The redhead nodded thoughtfully, “Alright, I got you. That makes total sense. So someone tried some fuckery and blew up. Some “wild magic” and “horror binding” later we have this bubble of… well um corrupted ground.”

“That is what I have surmised as well.”

“Which we are blessed with the luck of having to walk through.”

“Correct,” said Harken with a crooked smile.

“Well, that sucks,” sighed Clarissa. “Any ideas how?”

Malachi joined them. “We’re looking into creating our own containment bubble. Damien and Leon are looking into it.”

Harkened looked over to see those two working together further down the curve. The Mana around was gathering thickly, pressing up against the dome. “If that turns up good results, have you thought about who will go in?”

“The usual suspects, but it’s still fluid,” answered Malachi. “Their research might take some time. Until there’s something certain to plan around, it isn’t worth setting anything in stone. Damien said the magic involved was very high level. So analyzing it is difficult. Can’t be rushed at all. So we have three days of supplies, which means two nights before we need to head back.”

“Meaning we must wait before progressing. Regardless, I would volunteer for the team that goes in. I believe it is within my power to create some sanctuary for us.”

“Your willingness puts you at the top of the list.”

“Better you than me,” interrupted Clarissa. “There’s nothing to shoot, so my usefulness is basically zero.”

The battlemage grinned with mischief, “So there is something the Great Clarissa fears! Don’t worry my little lamb, we’ll keep you safe and sound!”

“I know what you’re doing!” accused the redhead. “I know! Also, screw you, I’m brave as hell! If you need me to hold your hand into the heart of darkness, then I AM THERE!”

“Excellent! I’ll put you at the top of the list too.”

“Damnit! Fine, I’m goin’ to find ju ju and tell her you're being mean to me!”

“Please do, she’ll enjoy the laugh,” remarked Malachi mildly to the redhead’s back. “Harken, want to come with? Might as well set up the tents now.”

“No, not yet,” denied the priestly man. He turned to look back at the smudged air of the dome. “I’ll be there soon to do my part, but there is a draw to this, wonder. Something calls my attention. Holds it there.”

“Not sure wonder is the word I’d use, but it isn’t really the wrong one either. With what is inside, I can’t help but wonder how such poison can be contained so cleanly. Look around us! There is no hint of the destruction out here other than a distortion in the sky. How easily it has been cut off from the rest of the world. The grass goes right up to the edge.”

The priestly man pointed down, “Did you notice that the grass loses its height the closer you get to the dome? Right here beside, the length of the grass is not far from just an overgrown lawn. There is at least some small effect.”

Malachi looked down with surprise, “Huh, I hadn’t really noticed that. The dome is pretty distracting. Hmm… there’s gotta be something to this.”

“Agreed, but I only have a feeling at the moment.”

“And that is?”

“Right now, it’s too undefined to say.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to your thoughts then. Don’t stay too long, by yourself and all.”

Harken nodded before returning to his inspection of the barrier. Around him the Sixty began to filter away, following their leader up a large hill. The new encampment would be raised there. The priestly man felt guilt at not helping, but something in him refused to leave. An uncompromising whisper that held his feet in place.

He reached out a hand, feeling for the smoky field physically and magically. This barrier was thicker than the dividers between floors. Thick enough that a whole hand could dip in before breaching to the other side. Within, the pressure on his skin was like being underwater but fainter. When Harken reached out with his Mana he heard a song. Soft, without definite words. It inspired emotions of protection, holding, and defiance.

Carefully, the priestly man stepped through again. It was hard not to stare at the sky and ruins, but he turned his eyes to the ground with an effort. Focusing on the edge, where the barrier touched the ground. His skin stung and the air burned his lungs, but Harken carefully observed what he expected. There was a noticeable gradation upon the ground. Against the wall was dry soil with pale, shrunken sprouts of grass. A foot away, the soil turned to ash before that faded away to blasted bedrock. As far as the eye could see, this pattern ringed the entire outer edge of the dome.

Returning to the fresh air side was a relief even in the depth of his thoughts. The blight beyond was intolerable. Wrapped in an assembling theory, Harken walked along the barrier. Staring down at the varying heights of the grass. A clean line of height showed clearly the declining and inclining in relation to the sealed stain. He looked up and studied the hollow itself. The distant hills showed another subtle pattern. There was a clear circle of flatness surrounding the dome. It was hidden by the golden grass, but undeniable when one considered the hills themselves. Several had shear edges where part of the hill had been removed, no doubt to keep the circle perfect.

His staff thumped down into the ground, an experimental gesture. The soil seemed thin and something hard close to the surface. Kneeling down, Harken tried to feel down into the soil. The grass seemed to actively resist being pushed aside by his fingers. The roots were plentiful and sturdy. He was sweating a little by the time his fingertips brushed the bedrock below.

The priestly man frowned, “That doesn’t really prove anything though. I have no idea how thick the soil is in the rest of the plains. For all, I know the depth is no different. Hmm…”

Then something occurred to him. Harken poked his head back into the dome and looked for the one ruined feature in particular. It was a shattered stone road that lay on the blasted bedrock like a ship on the floor of a dried ocean. He estimated the distance, moved, and checked again before beginning the dig. The resistance was the same, but this time he was more determined. Prying the sod to either side with both hands to find a remnant of a remnant. Under the grass, the rumble of the road, slowly powdering. Still, that confirmed his theory.

“The dome is shrinking over time,” stated Harken. “The desolation was larger, but somehow it is shrinking. The grass? The dome? I’m not sure, but the former feels correct. Now, what do I do with this?” He tapped a finger on his lips thoughtfully before Damien and Leon caught the priestly man’s eye. The three of them were the last down by the dome. The encampment was bustling in the distance.

Harken rushed over to them to share his revelation.

Neither man noted his arrival. They were instead acutely involved in their study. Only sharing thoughts and discussion in barely audible words. Small quick exchanges that were feverish to an outside observer, Damien and Leon had delved deeply into their Mana. The heartsong had summoned up and brought with it confused clarity.

He stood for a time listening to the strange mixture of English and delirium, but Harken soon realized that wasn’t getting anywhere. The conversation was nonsense to him and those two still hadn’t noticed him.

“Gentlemen, I bring a discovery,” announced the priestly man. His tone was cheerful, though gauntness made the accompanying smile into a skull’s grin. “Would you trade, or perhaps share as I shall with thee?”

The mages startled and turned with stuttered efficiency. Leon frowned and spoke first, “Did you really just use “thee?””

“I might… agree that the drama in my heart inspired the use.”

Damien blinked. “What does his word choices matter if we understood? What did you discover?!”

“I’m not accusing him of being incoherent, but the usage surprised me,” explained the barrier mage. “Simply put, I don’t expect it outside Shakespeare or the bible.”

“I will take pride in the use since it shook you out of your trance; as Damien’s curiosity freed him of his own distraction.”

“Enough!” declared the obsidian thaumaturgist, a peppering of irritation in his tone. “No more spiraling out this conversation! Leon, shush please. Harken, discoveries, even more please!”

Harken chuckled before answering, “As you wish, there are a few things I am certain of. Their importance to your endeavors, I must leave to you. I start with the fact the dome and desolation within once covered this entire clearing. The mechanics of this are beyond my understanding, but I have guesses. The grasses of the plains for instance…”

“Of course!” exclaimed Damien. “Sunflowers! This grass is the same as sunflowers, a natural cure for radioactive contamination. Or magical taint in this case!” The obsidian thaumaturgist dropped to his knees and there was a flash of violet power that then soaked into the ground like water. After a minute of thoughtful onomatopoeias, the mage stood back up. “I have confirmed it. The grasses are extremely Mana absorbent. Mana is drawn down through a filtering process before being deposited deep into the ground. Which cleanses the environment. If we looked, there are likely other sites on this floor that once had similar distortions. Before The Pit, this must have been a clean-up experiment or a place they locked away failures.”

“Ahh, I’m glad my theory proved correct,” said Harken.

Leon was still frowning though. “It is interesting, and helpful to understand this floor even, but this doesn’t really help us with discerning how the dome works. The Mana constructs and imbued concepts are beyond me. In all honesty, at best, I might understand the surface.”

“The dome is proving more complicated than the self-repair function on our clothes and armor,” admitted Damien. “My efforts in understanding are not going much better. I feel like I am only seeing half the functions and interactions. It is impossible to trace a single activation thread. Every time the thread twists out of my sight and senses… no matter how hard I focus…”

“Did you two not realize that half the construct is faith-based rather than wholly will-derived?”

Both mages froze.

“You didn’t, did you…”

The obsidian thaumaturgist slumped over to the barrier and stared at it intensely. “How did I miss that?! I… I made a mistake. I have to start all over!”

Trying to be comforting even with his own devastated heart, Leon offered condolences. “Sigh… yeah both of us have to start from square one. No wonder it was confusing! I was looking at two different systems intertwined.”

“So, I suppose it is safe to assume that analyzing the dome is going to take a while longer?” asked Harken quietly.

“To glean something useful… days I would say,” admitted Leon. Damien nodded and added, “Understanding the whole of it is impossible at our current level.”

The priestly man nodded to their duel statement, leaving them to fall back into the work as he floated away in reflection. Harken wasn’t sure why, but the expectation of delay bothered him. There was a voice inside demanding to go now.

No, this isn’t about rushing, not about doing it right now, he thought. No, the voice is saying I could do this right now. Looking inside, the idea wasn’t so far-fetched. Following that line of thought, spells, and plans flowed out of the aether of his mind. The heartsong was singing. When Harken looked out into the world again he was staring at the dome. Under his feet was the disturbed grass that hid the crumbling road.

A straight shot to the center, said the voice.

And, the priestly man could see it. A vision of success. Not enough clarity to follow choices already made or assure success, but distinctly the heavy possibility. He felt the certainty of his odds.

Harken took a step towards the dome, singing to the Mana within. His raised hand submerged into the smoky barrier and his mind opened up to its power. Before him was a wonder and a miracle. It was beyond the priestly man to understand. There was no chance of the secrets being plucked by him. The inner workings would not unveil to his sight, but there was within him the capacity to commune. To pray for a blessing of similar harmony.

So he did.

With honest need, with open-hearted faith, he reached out to the universe.

The heartsong sang his wish out there, Mana answered in reflection.

Power in the form of a spell filled Harken. It was a miracle. One use, for one purpose. Something entirely beyond him, but by prayer he had been granted hope for the sake of his communal love. For the Sixty, the priestly man had humbled himself before infinite.

In the moment before casting the miracle, another blessing of the universe came.

“You’re planning to go in there alone, aren’t you?” asked Julia. It was a strange tone that she spoke with. Stern, quiet, without the need for an answer, but there was a hint of awe poorly hidden behind admonishment.

He turned to the shieldmaiden and smiled. “I am guided to such action by my heartsong. It seems a path to resolve this challenge and in my hand is the seed of that victory.”

Cupped gently in his hand was a pale light fringed with gold. There was the impression of a sphere marked by nebulous clouds swirling sedately and a faint song rose from the bright center. Harken offered her a look at the summoned miracle.

“I felt you call for that and I feel it now… An almost familiar tune.”

“Prayed, I prayed for it. Through Mana, the universe answered. For the sake of my compassion, or perhaps, it is better to say, for its own compassion.”

Julia harrumphed, “The universe is compassionate, is it now?”

“Of course. Are there not wonders and miracles in the world? Do we not live and love? If there is terror and suffering in the world, it isn’t an act of the universe. Those are self-inflicted wounds. The rampaging of children. We are provided with all the tools to destroy or raise ourselves. That is no less true here than on Earth, with Mana the range is simply extended; infinitely both ways.”

“It is a beautiful world you describe. Not one I have felt to be true since I was a child. Under the protective care of your parents, the world does seem kind. Doesn’t stay that way though… but… seeing that in your hand I could almost believe again. It is beautiful.”

The priestly man had a thought that felt strong and true. With it came visions. His path through the storm became clearer. “Come with. Be my shield and let me show you the power of a miracle. In you I see a seed of faith, it resonates with me. We are meant to walk this trial together.”

She frowned, looking back at the hilltop encampment. The tents were raised and the barricades were in place. The Sixty stirred like ants adding the finishing touches to the campsite. When Julia turned back there was a struggle playing across her face. Confusion in her eyes told Harken that the shieldmaiden was surprised by the conflict of interests. Finally, she summed up her odd feelings to a conclusion.

“Malachi isn’t going to be happy with us. This is a stupid risk.”

“Have faith”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever had any… Fear, that’s what I have a lot of.”

“Said our mighty shieldmaiden who commands our frontline without hesitation.”

Julia almost yelled her argument, “That’s because I’m more afraid of losing any of you than being hurt, but I’m still very afraid of that… Even now that I am strong… I forget sometimes, but it hasn’t left me. What I try not to think about is how that strength might be a lie, or it only exists upon a foundation of others. Am I only strong because of Malachi and Clarissa? Maybe it isn’t me, maybe I am just trying to keep up.”

Harken spoke with reproach and appreciation, “Do not deny the faith you have in the strength of your arm. I see the truth of it in your eyes. When in the heart of battle you soar above the fear. You know you are enough to protect them. Draw courage from this! For I am only asking more of the same from you. Our act shall safeguard the Sixty, none but us two need walk the desolation and kneel upon the altar. Together we shall unlock the Gate. Walk with me, protect me.”

“Such faith in me… Would I be able to believe in myself…”

Following the certainty flowing through him, the priestly man clutched his hand and cast the miracle upon them. There was no more need for words. Action was needed. The sheltering hand of the miracle fell upon their shoulders. Their burdens were lightened, strengths fortified. Harken gave Julia a smile and strolled through the barrier. Not wasting a second to look back.

He was confident that the shieldmaiden would follow.