Three thousand years ago, there was a city that sank beneath the waves; three thousand years ago, before the seas swallowed it whole, the city had been beautiful.

Now, the marble columns were shattered and stuck crookedly out of the seabed like broken teeth, crusted with dripping weeds and barnacles. The grand domes of once-beautiful temples were cracked open, the mosaics of their tiled floors shattered, the murals of their walls washed away by the briny sea. Only scuttling crabs lived here now.

But today, the sea had been lifted back.

A dome-shaped barrier had appeared over the ancient city, pushing the waters away. Fish flopped on the ground, suddenly drowning in air.

At the center of the city there was a grand cathedral, a temple that had once been a wonder of the world. Now, its marble was tarnished to an ugly grey, its gold faded to green. Within the empty halls, the steady drip of water made everything gloomy.

At the heart of the temple was a black iron door. It stood ten feet high, emblazoned with the symbols of the seven planets and the vast sun.

Three figures stood in the door’s shadow, here in a city that had been forgotten by the world.

One of them was almost human, albeit with silver scales scattered in glittering constellations across her face, running down the sides of her neck, joined seamlessly with pale blue flesh. Gemstones of every shape and color orbited the top of her head, a miniature solar system of peridots, agates, sapphires. She leaned against a sheathed sword, sitting atop a ruined wall. “I thought you could open any door.”

“This? This is an evil spirit. It just happens to be door-shaped.” Her companion knelt before the door, groaning and fussing over a diagram drawn in blood. Words in evil languages lined the outside of circles, complex fractal patterns diving inwards from triangular bases. His hands were beginning to shake from blood loss, drawing each new character by slicing open his palm and dipping a golden pen into the wound. A new cut for every word.

The third man was quit unamused by his companions bickering, shaking his horned, eyeless head. He was a hulking creature, utterly inhuman except in the rough shape of having two arms, two legs. As they talked, he chased a crab across the floor, stomping after the tiny creature with his heavy boots.

With a delighted laugh, the mage joined the last interlinked rune and carefully held his pen outside the circle to shake off clinging drops of his blood. “Done, done! Let’s see it hold up against this.”

Scrambling to his feet and dusting off his robes, he held his hands aloft. The rings on his skinny fingers gleamed in the half-light as he wove complex patterns. One by one, the runes lifted up from the floor, beginning to rotate in the air.

“By my blood-” Streams of bright crimson blood flew from his mutilated hand, wrapping around his pen as he hefted it like a spear.

“By my will-” Cascading yellow light spread up his arm, entering the bloodspear and causing it to shift from ruby to gold.

“By the fiery Dismat and the winds of Almat. Be broken!” The runes collapsed into the spear in the moment before he threw it, replicating themselves across its surface and making it more solid, more real. It flew from his hand with an explosive burst of force that sent billowing winds throughout the temple, forcing his companions to cover their faces as a miniature gale sprung up at the point of release.

All that force and power slammed into the door and went right through it, vanishing into the black iron without a trace. Like a stone dropped into dark waters.

“What!” The words exploded off his lips in a spray of spittle, more outrage than actual question. His face had gone pale, his wounded hand trembling like a leaf as threads of red wound their way down his fingers. With a sudden gasp he fell down on his ass.

And then the door began to shift. Ripples spread across the rusted surface, and a vast eye swelled out of the metal, blinking slowly open. A brilliant, starry light spilled from its pupil, the iris a galaxy-whirl of tiny pinprick stars arranged in a wheel around that glowing core. Colors that had never been seen on the face of the earth existed within that eye.

Like he was a puppet on a string, the mage jerked up to his feet and began to walk. The horn-headed man almost stepped forward to stop him, but he found his companion’s arm suddenly barring his way, the scaled woman only shaking her head. Too late.

Their friend left a mad laugh echoing behind him as he dived towards the blinding light of the iris and vanished, passing through the metal without trace just as his spear had.

The eye blinked shut and vanished.

“He could be alive…” The giant offered, in the silence and gloom that descended afterwards.

“He could be alive.” The woman repeated, tone grim. “But he’s not.”

After a long, ugly pause, the giant spoke again. “What I don’t understand is why. If their magic was this strong, why seal it away? Why are we here chasing what someone else discarded like so much trash?”

“They were insane like that. Always were, probably still are.” The woman’s mind was elsewhere, clearly, her eyes fixed on the rust-patterned doorway. “We need another mage. A human one would be best. The door might only open for its makers.”

“It’s going to be a while before there are any human mages.”

“Yes. Which is why we’ll need something to defend this place while we search.” Reaching into her sky blue robes, the woman drew out a tiny glass box, a blot of living shadow writhing within. The giant took a large step back.

“Crows, where the fuck did you get that.” His eyes were wide, his hand instinctively settling on the hilt of his sword.

“From our benefactor. We should go before it wakes up.” Lifting her foot, she stomped down, cracking the glass open. What remained was only a dark stain on the floor. A stain that began to slowly spread outwards.