Nerosal had always been the center of attention. Relatively close to the fallen south, it had also been the copyette capital of ages past, not to mention one of the two major sources of ancient artifacts in current times. Its distance from the Imperial capital had delegated it to a backwater city to banish nobles to, but that apparently hadn’t affected things beneath the surface. The level-three vortex was just another example, posing the question of how many more had there been back before Dallion had obtained his magic trait.

Know anything on the matter, shield? Dallion asked as he put away his aetherizer.

Wouldn’t surprise me. The dryad mentally shrugged. Mages barely visit this dump. I doubt any detector has been a thousand miles from here.

As a mage, Dallion knew that the opportunity was too good to mix. As a hunter, this was the worst time and place to get involved. With the power vacuum, the more he got involved, the more complicated it would become for him elsewhere. Some might even think he was making a play for control of the city, which could be interpreted in all sorts of ways, and as Dallion had seen firsthand, mages had been banished for less.

The faint sound of steps quickly brought Dallion back to the here and now, reminding him he still had an annoying bishop to deal with. At least the vortex wasn’t located beneath the temple. Thank the Moons for small blessings.

A massive wooden door opened on the far side of the antechamber.

“The bishop will see you now, Initiate,” a large cleric announced. Judging by his size, he could probably smash through the stone walls with his bare fists. Looking at his battle scars and high level, he probably had.

In a casual stroll, Dallion walked past into the bishop’s quarters. The room was twice as large and even more lavishly decorated, combining Moon motifs with fanciful gifts from the local nobles. All of them were impractical and useless, but expensive enough to ensure that they wouldn’t be kept on display. In some ways it was like entering the general’s office, all that was missing were the cages of exotic creatures.

“Lord bishop,” Dallion said, doing his best not to grumble as he entered.

Barely had he done so then the door closed behind him. It was at that point that he got a glimpse of the man behind the desk. Dressed in the richly embroidered clothes that depicted his station, the man’s skin was as white as the garments themselves.

“Cleric?” Dallion blinked. This was definitely a day for surprises.

“Nice to see you again, Dal,” the albino responded with a reserved smile. “Still magic, a mess of things.”

The man was the first member of the Order that Dallion had seen upon awakening. Back then, he had been assisting in a regional chainling hunt. Within the years, they had become acquaintances, to the point that Cleric had offered Dallion protection back when he was chased by Countess Priscord.

“You’re the bishop?”

It was difficult to believe that someone banished for not obtaining a spellcasting skill would make it so far. A disgrace both to the noble of his domain and the Academy, Cleric had been forced to enter the Order to survive. The Moons had undoubtedly treated him well.

“No one in their right mind wanted to be in charge of this powder keg,” the bishop replied. “Especially knowing that it’s your backyard.”

“It never was my backyard.” Dallion shook his head. And even if it were, that was a long time ago.

“So you deciding to drop by so soon after the archduke left is purely a coincidence?”

“I had a few things to take care in the province.” Dallion continued towards the massive desk. As he did, he looked around in search of a seat. Same as in the antechamber there was none. “Nerosal just happened to be my first stop.”

“I’m sure it is.” Cleric leaned back. “You can cast spells, by the way. It won’t affect my sensitivity.”

Thanks to his vision, Dallion was able to see that the albino had a magic trait, even if it was at zero. That suggested that he’d been to the Academy, and also that he had given away his magic to someone else; rather, that he had been forced to do so. Taking the magic from someone who couldn’t use it sounded exactly like a decision an Academy snob would decide on.

“I’m fine.” Dallion stopped a few feet from the desk. “So, why am I here? I take it you didn’t want to talk about old times. Am I in trouble again?”

“You know the answer to that,” the bishop’s tone hardened. “But no, I didn’t call you to discuss your issues. Not when there are bigger things at stake.”

“I’m already taking part in the war, so if that’s what—”

“A new Star is on the rise,” the bishop interrupted. Normally, Dallion would respond with a comeback, but this news was enough to send shivers down his spine.

He had always known that sooner or later a new Star would emerge. That was how this world went. Not a small number had escaped the downfall of the previous Star, going into hiding. And even if one was to assume that the Order had managed to sniff all of them out, there were just as many outside the Tamin Empire.

“Who?”

“Too early to say. Some say that the Star will appear in the east, some say that he’s already the head of the Azure federation. All the rumors are highly unreliable and a means to inspire one side or another. However, a new Star is coming. That much is certain.”

“I take it we’re not talking about the distant future?”

“Months.” The albino nodded. “The candidates have already been infected and now it’s just a matter of them succumbing to the void.”

And I thought the war would be my greatest worry, Dallion thought.

Such things are usually related, the armadil shield said from Dallion’s realm.

“The Order has been sharing their fears with all sides for months.”

“Let me guess.” Dallion frowned. “No one’s doing anything about it.”

“Oh, they are. Even bitter enemies don’t want to become the next banished race. Still, all their actions must be done behind the curtains, while the war is front and center.”

“Sounds about right. So, why tell me? You think that the next Star will target me?”

“That’s a given.” Cleric slammed on the ground with his foot. Dallion was able to see several of the threads vibrate with increased intensity. A line formed from the albino’s position, a spot next to Dallion. Moments later, the floor itself rose up, forming a crude seat. “Please sit down. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

Still familiar with the basics, I see. Dallion obeyed.

“Most that is known regarding matters of the Star is kept secret, but I’ve been told a few things. This comes from the Archbishop himself.” Cleric cleared his throat. His hoarseness had gotten a lot worse than Dallion remembered. “Usually, the Star candidate is established in advance. The unfortunate soul chooses to embrace the void on their own accord, transforming into the evil that’s mentioned in all the history scrolls. Supposedly, that approach takes time, which is why there are decades or even centuries of calm between Stars. However, every now and again, there are events that nudge things forward. When that happens, there are more candidates than one, each determined that they are the rightful choice.”

“Events such as massive wars?”

“In this case, no. It would have happened even without the wars. In fact, it would have happened even if you hadn’t killed the Star.”

“I’m glad that someone thinks highly of my efforts…” Dallion said beneath his breath.

“Which brings me to the reason you’re here.” The bishop ignored the comment. “The person responsible for this is the same that you’ve been trying to catch: your old friend and mentor—the Icepicker’s captain Adzorg.”

There were many things Dallion thought he knew about Adzorg. Between the memory fragments, Nil’s slips, and things he’d been told at the Academy he had created the image of an obsessive archmage who liked to experiment with too many things he wasn’t supposed to. It was a fact that the old man had been fascinated with things from Earth, to the point he had tried to create a device that allowed someone to walk from the awakened world there directly. Yet, never had he imagined that the mage might go so far as to have dealings with the Star cults.

“He’s not part of the cult,” Dallion said firmly.

“He doesn’t have to be. He’s still working on that device with this. Not only that, but he’s been perfecting it, gradually gathering pieces.”

“That old…” Cold anger swept through Dallion, yet despite that, he didn’t let it show. There was one principle when dealing with anyone: even when interests aligned, one could never be sure they were getting the whole truth. “Will you vow that everything you said is the truth?”

“I vow by the seven that it is,” the bishop said without hesitation.

“So, all the times he sent hunters on missions, it was to gather parts for his device?” Not to mention that was what was he used Dallion for while he was in the Academy. “Difficult to believe.”

“That’s because you assume that he wants to create a new Star. His obsession has nothing to do with that.” A glimmer of uncertainty emanated from the bishop, barely caught thanks to Dallion’s music skills.

Can anyone tell me more about this? Dallion asked all guardians in the room. Most remained silent, but as it was common with items, there always was one which was just a bit chattier than usual.

The bishop also told him that it was a mistake, a low-pitched ring said.

Quite ironic that the only item willing to share this information happened to be the bishop’s ring of office. With empaths being gone for so long, no one in the Order had considered silencing something as cherished. Dallion had little doubt that teams of awakened had put precautious in place to keep the temple from blabbering. Most likely they had gone through every item in the room, including every garment of the people inside. Not the bishop’s ring, though.

I bet you’ve seen a lot, Dallion thought.

The ring laughed politely, but didn’t elaborate.

“The Order knew about this,” Dallion subtly added, a note of sadness in his voice. “And still you didn’t do anything about it?”

“It was estimated that his punishment would hold.”

Dallion wanted to roll his eyes.

“There were bigger problems back then. The Star was making appearances left and right. The Order was attacked left and right, cultists managed even to infiltrate our ranks. No one imagined that thing would go so far with his curse in place.”

“His curse?” Dallion wasn’t going to let that slip. “What did you have to do with that?”

“Me personally, nothing. The Order in general—everything. Who do you think erases names and delevels awakened? Not the Academy, I’ll tell you that.”

“And yet, you come to me for help?”

“Not everything in the world revolves around you!” Cleric stood up. “It was my decision to loop you in! The power players were already involved. I just happen to think that you stand a greater chance of finding him before it’s too late!”

Silence filled the room. Based on the layers of anger emanating from the bishop, Dallion wasn’t the only one having a bad few months. A major war was the worst of times for a new Star to appear. If Agzorg was such a focal point, dealing with him as quickly as possible would prevent a whole lot of devastation. Of course, it would come at a cost.

“How?” Dallion asked. “How’s Adzorg nudging things?”

“The contraption he thinks he’s creating. It won’t work. After the limitations placed on him, he’s a tenth the mage he was. He doesn’t have the magic or the mind to activate it, but he keeps trying. That was part of the punishment.”

“To always try, even if he’s never able to achieve it,” Dallion said. It had enough of Sisyphean logic to make it believable.

“Somehow he still managed to make something that works.”

“Probably all the artifacts he’s been freely storing up for years,” Dallion grumbled.

“What he’s building will never take him to another world, but is bunching holes elsewhere.” The bishop opened a drawer of his desk, then took a rolled parchment and tossed it to Dallion.

The piece of paper represented a map of the known world. No borders or countries were marked on it, just the general landmass of the world. Scattered throughout it were a vast amount of dots, some larger than others.

“Vortex activity in the last decade, courtesy of the Academy,” the albino said.

“Vortex locations? They seem a bit out of date.” There was an unusually high number in the vicinity of Nerosal.

“When he started, Adzorg was only able to trigger a minor one every few years. He’s gotten a lot better, especially after getting some of the devices from the Academy. The Archbishop fears that if he continues, he might create an opening to the void. It will be short-lived, but enough to elevate a cult candidate to the position of Star.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch.”

“The prophecy is certain about one thing—if Adzorg isn’t captured, a new Star will rise and the human race will be banished.”

Oh, just that? The armadil shield asked. And I thought it would be something serious.

“We’re not just asking you for help, Dal.” The bishop looked him in the eye. “We’re asking everyone for help. You’ve had his echo in your realm for years, millennia if you could, true time. Help us stop this.”

Quietly, Dallion rolled up the map. If it wasn’t for the Moon vow, he’d have a hard time believing all this to be true. Unfortunately, there was every indication it was.

“What will you do to him?” he asked. “If you catch him before, it’s too late. What will you do?”

“That’s for the Archbishop to decide. The most important thing is that he doesn’t complete the device. Nothing else matters, not even the war.”

The answer left no room for interpretation. Still, despite everything, Dallion couldn’t believe Adzorg to be so stupid. If his device was creating vortexes, surely, he’d notice.

“Alright, I’ll help you. But I have a few conditions.”