“You have to learn to use the energy to shield your mind,” Cayeun chides.

We’ve been going for a solid five minutes at this point. It’s anticlimactic, Cayeun barely moving from her spot while I revive and die on repeat.

“Isn’t this boring?” I groan.

She sighs. “A bit. You’re really not very good at this, are you?”

So I’ve been told. “It’s impossible to be good at everything.”

“Wrong. That’s a mortal’s attitude. You haven’t even really been trying–show me the images you’ve used to protect yourself in the past.”

I tried using those in the beginning, only to find them completely useless against Suncloud’s offense. I summon the image of the tapestry of fate stretching through eternity.

She narrows her eyes. “This is a grand image. How did you come upon its inspiration?”

“It originally just...came to me,” I reply, knowing that the answer isn’t helpful. “But I’ve tempered it over time. I’d say that it’s taken on significant inspiration from my necromancy since its inception.”

“The problem with big images like this is that we can’t keep them in our minds at all times. They require conscious thought to maintain. But if you combine that image with ascendant energy, you should be able to block me.”

I shoot her a dubious expression.

“Of course if I really wanted to I could subvert your defensive attempts, but I’m not going all out against you, Ian.” She reaches out and grabs my wrist, her hand gliding down my arm and to my chest. “I’m going to show you how it should feel to empower your image with ascendant energy. Focus.”

The world completely fades away to black. My image is suddenly all that there is, the entire world subsumed by the weave of multi-colored fate.

“This is your chosen symbol,” Cayeun says, her thoughts entering my mind directly. “Now watch.” Millions of thin platinum chains glowing with blue ascendant energy emerge from nothingness and begin to weave themselves into the tapestry, reinforcing it. But not only do they undergird the fate filaments, but they begin to shape the tapestry itself from an endless rectangle into a shield, adding curvature.

“Only your imagination is the limit–you can shape your tapestry into any form of your choosing, layering symbols to enhance the symbolic significance.”

The vision fades and I find myself back in the real world, Cayeun still pressing a hand to my pectoral. I nod slowly, then take a step back, preparing myself for the next assault. She gives me a small smile, then I feel it–the world inverting, lava and sulfurous sky entering and burning me from within.

When I call my defensive image this time, I try to reproduce what Suncloud showed me. Form chains from my energy, I think, repeating the phrase like a mantra. Unfortunately, no chains manifest.

I die and respawn.

“Again,” Cayeun states, staring at me intently, her black wingtips tickling my legs, bypassing my incorporeal Death vestments.

Several deaths later, inspiration comes to me. They aren’t chains. My energy can’t chain things down, that’s not its purpose, nor its power. Ascendant energy makes the impossible possible. Ascendant energy is the fuel of chaos.

The weave is inherently formless. It’s not really a rectangle, like some ornate rug covering space to the ends of infinity. My energy doesn’t constrain–it supports. It bends and flows, is flexible but strong. It isn’t rigid. It’s the impossible made possible.

Suddenly Cayeun’s control flickers, her torture subsiding. In that moment of reprieve, I use my practice to twist her fingers like I did the first time. The transmission artifact slips from her hand and my arm is there to catch it. The surface is almost gritty, like sandstone, and is easy to hold–it won’t slip. A single button is at the bottom of the handle, a tapered cylinder that fits perfectly in my palm. The head of the artifact is a sphere with small holes punctured throughout with uneven spacing.

Suncloud halts her attack and grins. “Progress. And now you can say that you earned the artifact–I didn’t just hand it to you.”

“How does it work?”

“It’s easy: Just think about someone you want to speak to, then press the button. I’d advise against doing it when you’re in a space with dilated time.”

I turn from the microphone and gaze into her eyes. “You must really like Karanos to go out of your way to help me.”

She smiles, but doesn’t respond.

I feel like I have to keep speaking, the words tumbling out. “I apologize for acting ungrateful before. You don’t know what this artifact means to me–or, I suppose you would know. You should know my gratitude.”

She cocks her head as she brushes her fingers over her stomach. “It’s still nice to hear thanks giving out loud.”

“That being said...was it really necessary to induce so much pain?” I wonder, hands on my knees.

Her eyes glint with mischief. “I saw your memories, Ian–it wasn’t too hard to realize that you respond well to certain training techniques more than others.” She slashes a hole in the plane, revealing a blue sky and white clouds. “You’ve worked hard to reach where you are now, and now you’re standing at an open doorway. Don’t be afraid to step through.”

I frown at her in confusion, unsure what she’s referring to. She gives me a knowing look, then darts into Cadivu. I follow behind before the portal closes, finding myself in the middle of the sky, Cayeun herself nowhere in sight.

I angle my head down to try and see the platform, but it’s too far away by now. It’s probably already reached the bottom.

It still hasn’t sunk in that I’m holding the transmission artifact. And while just an hour ago I would have rushed to use it immediately, now that it’s in my hands I feel oddly calm, unhurried. I should find the others first, before doing anything. I stow the artifact in Messeras’ storage ring, change into a new set of clothes, and fly myself down.

The others are waiting for me at the bottom of the lift.

“What did Suncloud do to you?” Maria wonders, eyeing my changed outfit.

I rub the back of my head. “Well, she engaged in what could easily be considered sexual harassment, and then subjected me to mind torture. Nothing surprising.”

Windflower’s eyes bug out at my casual description of her god’s bad behavior.

Maria narrows her eyes. “Are you okay?”

I rub the storage ring absently. “I’m fine. Let’s just do what we were going to do–I’m in the mood for some lighthearted sightseeing. Windflower, can you lead the way?”

—

I barely remember Windflower’s tour of Corilus, the small city beneath the Perennial Palace, nor her tour of the pastoral countryside surrounding it. The seraph didn’t seem to notice my distracted state, but Maria gave me questioning looks throughout.

Upon returning to the cloud layer, Windflower leads us to the palace’s guest wing, granting Maria and I our own rooms. Karanos is nowhere to be found, though I suspect he’s already been situated in chambers of his own–perhaps even cohabiting with Suncloud.

After escorting us, Windflower excuses herself. I go into my room and shut the door. The interior is lavish, the bed itself literally made of cloud material. I collapse onto it, the mattress sinking under my body like soft, cottony foam.

Finally alone, I retrieve the transmission artifact and caress its surface. The moment is finally here–I can contact those I left behind.

It’s surreal. Maria doesn’t know I have the artifact–I couldn’t bring myself to mention it. Mentioning it would make it more real.

As I consider who to call first, the paranoia within me rumbles.

It would be easier for Karanos to work out a deal with Cayeun rather than actually grant my wish, my brain reasons. He could ask her to hand-craft an artifact that produces lifelike illusions. She plays god on a daily basis–bewitching and tricking people is her job. Moreover, she has the means to plumb my mind–she’d be able to mimic anybody from my past.

But would Karanos trick me, even if it’s the easier route?

I’ve seen more of Karanos over these past few days, enough to start revising my initial impression of him. He’s neither saint nor devil. He’s well-connected, and others hold him in esteem. He possesses strong principles, but that’s not necessarily a point in his favor. Zealous people may go to extreme lengths to achieve their goals, the ends justifying the means.

I sense Crystal reposing with Sah nearby. She’s choosing silence for a reason, pushing me to think through this alone.

Maria suddenly knocks on the door.

I jump, the artifact rolling from my fingers onto the bed. I take a deep breath, then walk over, opening the threshold.

“Hello, Maria.”

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. I sense concern over our bond. “Can I come in?”

I step back and motion for her to enter. My mind is consumed by the question of whether she’ll notice the artifact.

“What is that?” she asks, pointing to the bed.

So observant. “A way to call home.”

Maria freezes. “So that’s why you’ve been so on edge, so...absent.” She walks up to the bed and inclines her head toward the artifact. “Can I...?”

I nod. “You can hold it, of course. Just don’t drop it.”

Maria handles the artifact like it’s made of brittle glass, holding it up to the light of the chandelier. “It’s so simple. It almost looks messy.”

“I confess I’ve been worried about whether or not it’s real.”

Her head snaps around, her gaze locking on mine. “You suspect Karanos and Cayeun would lie to you?”

“Maybe. If duping me is what it takes to secure my cooperation and kill Achemiss, then Karanos might be able to justify it. Given what we saw during the celebration of mirrors, Suncloud could fake the personalities of people we know. And if Karanos asked her to trick me, I think she’d agree, considering it an entertaining game.”

Maria sighs and deposits the transmission artifact on the bed. She comes over to me and grasps my hands, squeezing tightly. “Rather than thinking alone in this room, why not just seek Karanos out and talk to him? I’ll be waiting here for your return. Crystal will tell me if you don’t go.”

“What am I supposed to say to him? ‘I don’t trust you’?”

Maria shakes her head. “Don’t overthink it. Go.”

—

I find Karanos alone on one of the Perennial Palace’s private balconies. He’s sitting in a plush chair, his eyes scanning over text projected in the air as a hologram. He glances up and the projection winks out.

“Have you used the artifact yet?” he asks.

I shake my head. “About that–Cayeun said it’s essentially priceless. I know that multiple factions have been fighting for it. But in the end, you convinced her to let me borrow it.”

He stares at me blankly. “And?”

I keep the awkward blush from my cheeks. “Why did you agree to my request in the first place, if it was asking for so much?”

Karanos smiles, an expression almost like relief coming over his features. “I asked Cayeun for help after explaining the situation, and she agreed. If she asked for the impossible as payment, I would have left and pursued another path.”

“What did she ask for?”

Karanos rubs his jaw. “She didn’t specifically ask for anything–rather, I offered an assurance that I’ll be back in five years. We’ll be returning the artifact then.”

“That’s it?”

Karanos chuckles. “There might have been another, more personal element to her payment, but I’ll leave that to your imagination. The crux of the matter is that she decided to help us because she wanted to.”

I wonder if he can tell how unsatisfied I am by that explanation.

He sighs, a whimsical smile still on his lips. “Sometimes a little trust goes a long way, Ian. And when you live forever, trust is often all you have.”

The phrase strikes a chord with me. When I was lost in the loop, I chose to place my trust in Euryphel, knowing full well that he might betray me. That trust took me further than I could have ever imagined.

“I thought you’d hate me after everything that transpired on the lightless plane,” I confess. “I broke our agreement, splintered whatever flimsy trust we started with.”

Karanos gets up from his seat and joins me in leaning on the balcony. “Context is everything. You killed Ari. You betrayed me. In a vacuum, those statements are damning. But the context reframes them. A devil incited you to kill Ari, leading you to believe there was no recourse.”

He holds up his hand and makes a fist. “You feared me and what I would do to you and your companions. You worried that I’d not only prevent you from saving your world as fast as possible, but that I’d lead you into the jaws of the beast and an early, true death. At least that’s what I would’ve been worried about, were our roles reversed.”

He rubs his nose. “I confess that I might have hated you in the beginning, though it was an impersonal kind of hatred. It blinded me–I didn’t feel the need to understand you until forced to, when you and Maria caught me by surprise.”

“Neither did I try to understand you,” I murmur. “In retrospect, I realize that I made a lot of assumptions. I thought you would take things out on us. We forced you to create the beacon.”

Karanos snorts. “You’re forgetting the part where your little array wrung out my poor soul.”

I roll my eyes. “Like you could feel it.” While Maria’s array left me in a state of limbo for hours, dying and respawning every few minutes, Karanos only respawned once after our soul attack. The only reason I can think of is that the passive soul defenses furnished by Eternity are stronger on older ascendants, steadily reinforcing their souls over time. And making it even harder to pull a Floria.

Karanos’s gaze becomes steely. “I certainly felt something, Ian–just because I can’t perceive souls doesn’t mean the array didn’t hurt.” He sighs and leans back. “This talk has been nice and all, but it’s time for you to use the artifact. Your real training is going to start tomorrow, and I’m expecting you to be fully focused on getting stronger, rather than agonizing over contacting your home world.”

I bow my head. “Thanks, Karanos.”

Taking the cue, I fly back around the palace, sensing for Maria’s location. I alight on the balcony outside my room, then brush the heavy drapes over the entrance aside. None of the seraphs on duty notice me, probably because of Cayeun’s interference.

I’m back where I started and feeling better about the fidelity of the transmission artifact, but a restless reticence hangs over me, a fear.

Maria nods her head in acknowledgment. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” I reply. “You were right, talking to him was a good idea.”

“Feeling better about using the transmission artifact?”

I smile. “Yeah.”

“And yet you’re still tense like a wound spring,” Maria observed. “You fear what you will find when you reach beyond, don’t you?”

Cayeun warned me that ignorance was bliss. Perhaps I’m foolish to dismiss her.

“What if...what if Euryphel died?” I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. “What if something happened to Germaine, or my mother?”

“You didn’t ask for the artifact to see how they were doing,” Maria reminds me gently. She pats the space next to her on the cloud bed. “You asked for it so you could warn your world.”

I sit down. “While that’s true...”

“You still worry.”

“Yes. We’ve traveled a circuitous, eventful route to finally reach this point. We’ve carved a path.”

“And now you find yourself before an open door.”

I hang my head. “Something like that.”

“Why hesitate when you’re so close?”

“I don’t know. I’ve always been like this, unable to take the final step forward.”

“But you’ve done so in the past.”

I meet her eyes. “Always with help.”

She grabs and squeezes my hand, sending goosebumps down my arm. “You have it.”

“You can go first,” I offer. “Talk to Zilverna.”

“No, I can talk to him later. Ultimately, Suncloud gave the artifact to you. I have every confidence that you’ll be able to do what needs to be done.” Her brow furrows and she bites her lip. “And if tragedy has befallen those you care about, you aren’t alone.”

“You are never alone, Ian, whether you like it or not,” Crystal transmits.

A laugh bubbles up. I wipe a tear born of mirth, fear, and relief from my eyes. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

She smiles and stands up, walking to the door. “I’ll be waiting to hear how it goes. Best of luck.”

“I’ll save our world, Maria,” I promise; she stops in the doorway.

“I know.” The door clicks shut.

I hold the transmission artifact in my hands, then hover my finger over the activation button. Moment of truth.

My finger presses down, and the world shifts.