Paragon of Destruction

There was no need to ask whether it was dangerous — just the look of it made that all too clear. And if Karanos tried to deny its danger, Arran would know the black mass was a death trap.

But the white-eyed mage made no attempt to conceal the truth. "Very," he said. "With my protection, you stand a good chance of making it out again, but I cannot guarantee that either of us will survive. There are enemies inside that neither swords nor magic can harm, and our lives will depend on avoiding them."

Though the answer was hardly encouraging, Arran found some comfort in Karanos’s honesty. Had the man intended to lead him to his death, he would likely have tried to downplay the risk.

Still, Arran wasn’t convinced yet. "What if I refuse?" he asked, his expression calm even as he prepared for trouble.

"Then I will let you leave," Karanos replied. "With what you have seen here, you know what will happen if word gets out — many will die, and you will be among them."

Arran nodded, knowing it to be the truth. He had only briefly witnessed Karanos’s shard of Living Shadow, but that was enough to know that it was a treasure beyond compare. Just the suspicion that Arran had such a thing would get him killed anywhere in the world.

Some doubts still lingered within his mind, however. If Karanos trusted Arran not to throw away his life by revealing the mines’ location, there was no reason for the man to guide him into the Shadow Realm — gift or not, Arran was already bound to silence.

"Why do you want me to go inside?" he asked, forehead creased in a frown. "And why do you want me to have a shard of Living Shadow?"

A small smile crossed Karanos’s lips, almost as if he was pleased that Arran had rejected his earlier explanation. "The Shadow Realm holds a warning," he said. "A warning that your Shadowflame Society should know about."

Arran looked at the white-eyed mage with a confused expression. "A warning? But I thought you didn’t want me to spread word of this place?"

"I don’t," Karanos said. "But you are strong — stronger than an adept has any right to be. And strength like that requires resources beyond those a normal teacher would provide. Which means you’re the personal apprentice of one of the Valley’s Elders, or perhaps even the Patriarch."

"The Matriarch," Arran corrected him, slightly relieved that there were still things the gaunt mage did not know.

"So the old bastard is dead?" An expression of joy flashed across Karanos’s face, but it disappeared an instant later, and he continued, "The Matriarch, then. And if you’re her apprentice, then you will eventually become an Elder yourself — perhaps even a Patriarch. By then, you may know what to do with the warning."

Once more, Arran was reminded that powerful mages were very long-lived. While the plan Karanos had laid out wasn’t unreasonable, it would take centuries to come to fruition.

He thought for some moments, casting another glance at the mass of darkness in the distance. Just looking at it unsettled him, and the idea of entering it almost made him nauseous. Yet he had already made his decision.

"All right," he said. "So what do we do?"

Karanos gave Arran a reassuring smile, though the man’s white eyes made even that look somewhat disquieting. "To start," he began, "you will need to close off all your Realms but Shadow. I assume you have a way to do that?"

Arran nodded, then sealed off his Realms and released the Essence his body still held with a few quick attacks at the starmetal wall. "Anything else?"

"Your void bags won’t work in the Shadow Realm," Karanos said. "So you’ll need to subsist on Essence, circulating it through your body to nourish yourself." Seeing Arran’s troubled look, he added, "Look closely — it isn’t too difficult, but it helps to know what to do beforehand. I nearly starved before I figured it out."

He briefly demonstrated a simple circulation technique that was little different from the ones Arran already knew, and after observing it for a few moments, Arran nodded. Yet even as he practiced the technique, a thought occurred to him.

"How long will we be gone?" he asked, feeling some worry. If he needed to subsist on Essence, then they would be gone for a long time.

"No more than a few years," Karanos answered. "Though on this side, only days will pass."

"Time doesn’t work the same in the Shadow Realm?" Arran asked, surprised. He had expected the Shadow Realm to be different from the real world, but he had not imagined that even time itself would be altered.

"Few things work the same in that place," the white-eyed mage said. "You will find that it will take you time merely to adjust to it. And the sensation..." He shook his head. "It is not a pleasant one."

Arran ignored those last words, unwilling to let himself be burdened by any further worries. While being prepared was good, there was little point to idle concern. "Are we ready to go?" he asked.

"I would not be so eager to go, if I were you," Karanos said. "But yes, we are ready."

"Then let’s go," Arran said, turning toward the mass of darkness that lay before them. He frowned, then added, "But I’ll let you enter, first."

"Very well," Karanos said. "Follow me — it’s a simple matter of stepping into the darkness."

Without any further words, he started toward the darkness at the center of the starmetal cavern.

Arran followed a dozen paces behind the gaunt mage, suppressing the unease he felt as he approached the formless black object. Or rather, the black tear — because as he approached it, he saw that it was no object at all. Instead, it was like a hole within the world, with only darkness behind it.

As he came closer, he felt a pulling sensation, as if the tear was trying to swallow him. Instinctively, he braced himself for a moment, but then realized he had to venture forward.

Karanos was the first to reach the tear, and as he reached it, he suddenly disappeared. Arran blinked in surprise when he saw this — while he had seen Karanos reach the darkness, he had not seen the man enter it. Instead, his entire body had vanished the moment he touched the shadow.

Arran paused when he saw this, but only for a second. Then, he took a deep breath, and crossed the last few paces to the tear in the world — the path to the Shadow Realm.

Standing next to the hole in reality, the force that pulled on him was almost irresistible, and he knew he would struggle to break free even if he tried. But he was here to pass into the darkness, and he clenched his jaw as he reached out with his hand. And then—

Nothing.

In an instant, the world around Arran disappeared as he was plunged into darkness. That was something he had expected to happen, but he felt a surge of panic when he realized that it wasn’t just his sight had gone dark.

All his senses abruptly went dark. He couldn’t hear or feel anything — not even his own body. It was as if his consciousness had been ripped away and submerged in an ocean of thick, dark oil.

Despite being unable to feel his body, he tried to speak, to ask Karanos — if he was there — for help, but nothing happened. If he still had a mouth, it didn’t move, and no sound came forward.

The feeling filled Arran with terror, and he instinctively tried to scream. But again, nothing happened. If his body was still there, it did not respond to his mind anymore.

It was a torturous feeling — far worse than being bound or imprisoned. Yet despite Arran’s horror at the situation, there was absolutely nothing he could do. It was as if he had been locked inside his own mind, without a way to escape.

After a long time, Arran’s panic gradually subsided. Not because the situation terrified him any less, but because after days or weeks in this state, he had gradually grown numb to his fear.

As he calmed down, he began to consider the situation. Perhaps this was normal — the unpleasant feeling Karanos had described. Or perhaps the man had deceived him, after all.

Whatever the case, Arran had no way of finding out, and no way to do anything about it. He had no way to do anything — not with neither his body nor his Essence at his command. He was imprisoned in a sea of darkness, and the only thing he had were his thoughts.

More time passed — months, perhaps even years — without anything happening, and gradually, Arran felt his thoughts growing slow and confused. He wondered about this some time, until finally, he realized it must be his body, slowly starving for lack of sustenance.

Even in his muddled state, the realization caused him to grow excited. If his body was starving, it was still there, and his consciousness was still inside it. If nothing else, it meant he wasn’t dead — yet, at least.

He vaguely remembered that Karanos had taught him a technique to sustain his body with Essence. And although it seemed like a long time ago, the technique was simple enough that he still knew how it worked.

Yet he could not feel his body or Sense his Essence, and for a time, he wondered what to do, steadily feeling himself grow more confused as his thoughts seemed to slow even further.

He realized that he could not let this continue. If he waited for much longer, his body would die — of that he was certain.

With no other options, he began to perform the technique blindly, knowing neither whether he was doing it correctly — or at all — nor whether it was having any effects on his body.

For a long time, nothing happened. But then, gradually, he began to feel his thoughts grow clearer, sharper. And as his clarity returned, he saw a small spark of hope in the distance.

It seemed he still had both his body and his Shadow Essence. Now, all he needed was to regain his senses.