The next gate… Once Dallion went through it, he would join the ranks of nobility—not the hereditary farce reserved for family members, but the real thing. There was no telling what would change once he did. No one past a gate spoke about it except to those who had done so as well. There was a time when Dallion yearned to find himself in such a position. Even before joining the Academy, the final awakening trials had proved way too difficult for him to pass. It wasn’t merely a matter of finding the right question. The execution also proved beyond his abilities. The Blue Moon wasn’t exaggerating when he said he’d combined a series of events that weren’t supposed to occur.

In the world, there were impossibly few achievements that increased one’s awakening level. Dallion had practically gone through all of them: destroying a Star’s echo, defeating the Star himself, destroying a living colossus in the real world, and now upgrading a void guardian. There was a reason for the Blue Moon to be pissed.

“Do I have to choose now?” Dallion asked.

“You have a reason not to?” The faint amusement on the Moon’s face abruptly disappeared.

“It’s a bit sudden.”

“What is there to think? Either you want to join the ranks of nobility and find out what it’s about, or you are comfortable with the safety of your current situation. You’re not an imperial, so you haven’t made a vow to relinquish your nobility.”

Relinquish? Dallion couldn’t help himself from thinking.

“Rules are rules. Imperial officers almost exclusively come from noble circles. Emperor Tamin requires them to vow to refuse the choice when it happens, capping them at level eighty. It’s extremely annoying.”

The explanation went a long way for Dallion to understand why the imperial troops were so feared. They were pretty much nobles that weren’t nobles. No doubt they were lacking a certain number of awakened powers, but even so they remained a force to be reckoned with; not to mention that they spent a lot of time in the wilderness, unlike the majority of sheltered awakened.

“So I must decide now.”

“I didn’t say that.” The Moon waved the green rectangles away, replacing them with seven new ones. “Choose your trait. Things half done are annoying.”

The notion had completely skipped Dallion’s mind. So many major things had happened that the once cherished single point trait boost seemed rather inconsequential. Still, he upped his empathy to fifty-five. That left it and his perception in the mid-fifties, while all the rest were around the eighty mark.

“There’s no time limit,” the Moon sighed. “It just annoys me.”

Everything seems to annoy you, Dallion thought.

“Stupidity annoys me,” the boy added sharply. “You’re like those people who beat the odds and find a winning lottery ticket, but are afraid to use it.” He turned around. “There is no deadline. Sort of. You don’t have to choose now, but until you do, you can’t go back to your realm, or any other realm. Think of it as an incentive to make up your mind fast.”

“Will I still be able to use my—”

“You’ll still be able to use your awakening powers, including the Vermillion ring hack.”

“Thank you.” Dallion nodded.

There was a pause. The Moon looked over his shoulder, then turned around. Being thanked didn’t seem like something that occurred often, which was strange. Given all the people that prayed at the Order’s temples every day, one would think there’d be more of that.

Slowly, the boy made his way to Dallion.

“Felygn gave me this for you.” He opened his hand. A rough green gem glowed within.

The moment he saw it, the otherworlder recognized the power it contained. This wasn’t a skill gem, it was far more valuable.

“A Moonstone,” he whispered.

“He’s always been sentimental. Take it.”

Dallion did.

“Come back when you have decided.”

Before Dallion could respond, the purple light surrounding him disappeared, replaced by darkness. The force of gravity violently pulled him down. It was only his quick reaction that allowed him to cast a flight spell. There was no trace of the timepiece, Vihrogon, Harp, Adzorg, or anything else, for that matter. For all intents and purposes, Dallion was hovering right above a massive hole that bore down to the depths of the world.

Being already destroyed during its gleam, the double vortex had only lasted a fraction of a second, but that had proved enough to cause the devastation.

Pool souls, Dallion thought.

They, like him, had assumed it would be weeks before the event occurred. How could one be so wrong? The vortexes weren’t a “natural” event. They weren’t caused by the void or some magic entity trying to enter the world’s reality. Adzorg’s timepiece had triggered them… all of them. This had been ground zero of the greatest threat, but it wasn’t all. The fragments that had flown off into the distance, they had and would cause dozens of other vortexes to emerge, along with everything that included. The entire field of tower vortexes that the archmage had sent Dallion and Katka to investigate, the gleams that had been appearing for weeks or more, all had been caused by this one fight right now.

“I’m starting to hate magic,” Dallion said. “Is everyone alright?”

A chorus of answers came from his realm, indicating that other than a brief period of being smothered by void—no more than a few years—everything was fine. Some, like Lux, were pleased to be able to talk with Dallion again, others, like Nox, remained mostly indifferent. At the end of the day, things were more or less back to normal… with one notable exception.

Vermillion, Dallion thought, returning the purple Moonstone to his realm. Once it was gone, he looked at the one still in his hand.

Two Moonstones—green and purple. They were beyond powerful, granting the strength of a deity even if for a limited amount of time. And yet, he remained uncertain what to do with them.

Using his Vermillion ring, the otherworlder placed the second stone in his awakening realm as well.

“Not the ideal way to deal with the situation,” Adzorg said, slowly descending from above. The mage seemed in rather good shape, considering what had happened. The vast majority of his magic devices were gone or destroyed, and yet there was an unfamiliar calm emanating from him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t run,” Dallion said.

“I made a vow, didn’t I?” The old man smiled, amused. “Besides, what’s the point? I’ve finally finished what I started. The Order can have me now.”

What about the emperor? Dallion wanted to ask. It was naïve to think that the ruler would protect Adzorg. It didn’t matter that he had been the one who ordered him to destroy the device, or even create it. Nobles had their own way of viewing the world, just as mages.

“Are we heading home, dear boy?” the old mage asked.

“Soon. Let’s see what could be done to help, first.”

With the immediate sense of urgency gone, there was a bit of time to focus on the survivors. Provided the size of the vortexes, a lot had been consumed, but even ten percent of a dwarven capital was a lot.

Using what skills he had, Dallion did his best to find and heal the survivors—and also repair any items or guardians that had withstood the recent catastrophe. It was a slow process, even with mass spells and assistance from Adzorg, but even so, he found that there were a lot fewer people than he hoped there would be.

The palace, and most of the influential sectors, had been completely destroyed. The guard officers had suddenly found themselves the highest-ranking people, forced to deal with a situation they had not once in their life expected to find themselves in. It didn’t help that the temples of the Order had also been devastated, even those that hadn’t been in the vortexes' path.

On the second day after the incident, external assistance arrived. However, it wasn’t the type that anyone imagined it would be.

“Crimson clouds,” Dallion said, looking at the horizon. Adzorg had mentioned spotting them a few hours ago, but the otherworlder had believed those to be forces heading to the future cortex fields. Clearly, they weren’t. “Didn’t think the Academy would send anyone here.”

“They aren’t. Those belong to the imperial legions.”

Dallion concentrated, trying to spot proof of the old man’s words.

“I don’t see anything.”

“It’s not about seeing, it’s about knowing. Even Alien wouldn’t be foolish enough to cluster a group of cloud forts so close together. It’s one thing having a show of force where it’s safe. Out here, that would be too risky.”

“Are you saying that the emperor is a worse tactician than Alien?”

“No. The emperor is powerful enough not to care about losing them.”

“He wants you that badly, eh?”

“I would like to think so, but in this case, I doubt they are coming for me.” No joy emanated from Adzorg. “Look at the rest of the sky. Not a cloud in sight. That’s no chance or mere accident. Hundreds of furies must have painstakingly roamed the sky, making sure that it was flawless.”

“Why the hell would they do that?”

“They're here for you, dear boy. Did you think that your achievement would pass unnoticed?”

Ten crimson cloud forts made their way to the capital’s ruins. The few surviving dwarf guard towers didn’t even make an attempt to interfere.

“Ruby,” Dallion looked at his left shoulder. “Behave till I know what’s going on.”

The shardfly flicked its wings once. Although the “Diroh” it was supposed to protect within the vortexes had turned out to be a copyette, it had done little to end the deep sense of disappointment emanating from it. In the creature’s mind it had still failed Dallion, and was willing to compensate to gain his favor.

“It’s fine, little guy,” Dallion said. “Just remain calm.”

One of the cloud forts broke off from the rest, approaching further. Dozens of furies were visible on it, all of them with crimson red hair and imperial uniforms. One, wearing a breastplate of red crystal, flew off, elegantly descending to the ground a dozen steps from the otherworlder.

“Dallion Darude,” the fury said in a loud voice. “You’re hereby summoned to the Imperial Palace. We are to escort you and your prisoner in the name of Emperor Tamin.”

So, Adzorg was right. Interesting how the old man had predicted it, especially since there was so little to go by.

“How did you know?” Dallion asked over his shoulder.

“Simple. The emperor told me.” The former archmage said. “I told you that nobles place echoes in the realms of their subjects. Why would you think I was any different?”

Normally, the question would sound a lot more critical, as if it were Dallion’s fault for not figuring it out. This time, the only emotions coming from Adzorg were obedience and a sense of futility. There was no denying the emperor’s will, and at present Dallion had to agree.

Without a word, both mages cast their flight spells, floating up to the cloud bastion. A path of sea iron was expecting them there, leading inside. Close to a hundred furies stood silently, looking at them with emotionless expressions.

“Send someone to inform the archmage,” Dallion said as the armor clad fury landed in front of them, leading the way in.

“Do not concern yourself with that,” he said in a polite fashion. “It will be taken care of.”

That didn’t bode well.

“Can I know why I have been summoned?” The otherworlder asked. If common logic was to be used, it was for him to be rewarded for a job well done. However, since nobles were involved, he put his chances at fifty-fifty. The last time he had done a noble a favor by saving her city, she had resented him for it.

“That is for the emperor to say. All I know is that I’ve been ordered to lead you to his private garden. Anything else you’ll have to find out for yourself.”