“Rift – a naturally occurring phenomenon connecting two planes together for a short span of time. Locations and destinations seem to vary depending on Celestial Bodies relative locations in both connected planes – for underlying theories and other factors concerning their appearances refer to appendixes.

Rifts are most often connected with the Elemental Planes (85%), Other Realities (5%), Shadowplane (4%), Ethereal Realm (3% - recently no new rifts leading there confirmed, more research needed).

A detailed breakdown can be found in appx. 732.

The starting diameter varies between 0,3-5 meters (97% of the confirmed rifts). It is theorised that even smaller rifts commonly occur yet they collapse without any observer noticing them. Larger rifts opening in remote habitable areas are often viewed as natural disasters. Histories concerning such events are also a reason why common folk widely believes that seeing a rift is a bad omen. The research described in appx. 397 deny such correlation.

For the list of the abnormally large rift cases refer appx. 91

Immediately after forming, a rift begins to naturally decline. Average rifts are shrinking approximately 1 meter per minute in an Average Mana Density Area (larger rifts appear to be more stable, 90% of 5 meter' large closes within 7 minutes, 85% of 20m wide rifts registered within AMD areas stayed open for a median of 39 minutes – refer to appx. 209)

High Mana Density Areas seem to stabilise Rifts prolonging their duration by 50-75%. Sudden decrease change (see appx. 2572) in ambient mana density in the proximity of the active rift seems to destabilise it further than theoretical models suggest – more research needed.

In year 648 UC, after the Nevereth Guild localised an exceptionally stable 600 m rift and attempted to use this as an opportunity to gather their forces and establish a permanent foothold in a different reality, the rift suddenly shrunk and collapsed. Survivors reported a sudden emergence of multihanded constructs created from various metals and stones, wielding powerful magic and deadly in melee. A detailed report in appx. 275.

Confirmed and suspected limiting factors for moving objects and casting spells through rifts – appx. 1428.

No cases of the rift opened inside a solid object or a living being has been ever recorded.

Those interested in travelling, trading and eventual usage of rifts for military purposes, recommended safety measures, commonly faced dangers and the most reliable contingency spells should refer to the ‘Hoid’s traveller’s guide – revised by Ley’.”

- the excerpt from the ‘Encyclopaedia Arcana – R’

After dousing fires, Ion's uncles immediately searched for a cleric to cure his wounds.

Apparently, Ion’s burns were too severe to be fully removed with a 2nd circle healing, which seemed to be the limit of what an apprentice cleric sent by the temple, a blond-haired girl close to his age was capable to cast, so he had to resort to alchemical mixtures afterwards. He was bedridden for the next two weeks.

It wouldn't have probably happened before the war, but now, since a large part of a clergy left with troops, access to the magical healing was severely limited and more pricey.

As for the aftermath of his spell incident, his uncles just assumed that Ion lit a candle close to his bed early in the morning, only to fall asleep again and accidentally knock it off while sleeping. They didn’t believe his story about performing magic he saw in the dream, thinking that he was just trying to bluff his way out of the troubles.

One might wonder why they so easily dismissed this event. Spontaneous combustions and other arcane manifestations were quite frequent. In fact, it was one of the leading causes of the sudden infant death syndrome as doctors have called it.

A widely accepted theory behind this phenomenon was that extremely Gifted children were sometimes able to subconsciously channel mana in amounts far above their bodies capacity to withstand. However, contrary to Ion's situation, almost all cases of such a thing happening occurred within first months of one’s life, never after the first year. Survivors of such manifestations were often sought by many wizard’s guilds; they offered a lot of gold in exchange for the possibility of adopting such a child, as they would often become powerful and indoctrinated members of their guild in the future.

Why would parents ever agree for that? Well, even if a child was able to survive this manifestation once, without the constant vigilance of a trained wizard it would probably die during the second one, long before it would be able to learn how to control arcane power.

As most people were not able to hire wizards for literally constant babysitting shifts, they were forced with a choice of either waiting for their kid to die or willing to let it go, having hope that it lives somewhere as a wizard. The gold just little factor to ease their loss – or more an incentive for a town authorities to inform a nearby mage guild as soon as possible, as they were also receiving their share for helping.

There were also cases of kidnapping such infants from their parents just to give them to mages in hopes of collecting a treasure, as wizards often weren’t investigating origins of a child they received as long as it was really gifted – those who tried to trick guilds usually ended badly.

One particular guild made a tradition of casting Feeblemind (turns someone into a drooling idiot until dispelled) on such an offender and leaving him in his town for everyone to see for one month, after which they killed the offender. The method that required the attention of wizards of highest ranks, but it was a matter of upkeeping authority after all.

The time Ion have spent bedridden was actually quite fruitful. After placating aunt’s anger he managed to convince them to give him some quivers and parchments on the pretence of having anything to do; being forced to lie in a bed for long periods could drive anyone insane.

During this time he was sleeping and noting interchangeably, trying to grasp most of the information from his dreams. Soon he managed to learn his first real spell – Magic Missile! Yet given how his first attempt with the dream-magic ended, he was reluctant to try it out immediately.

After a careful consideration, when he was well enough to leave the house, Ion decided to take a walk towards a temple of the god of the sun – after all, if they were willing to send apprentices to heal people around the city, they would help him should they have found him wounded close to an entrance, right?

Soon he stood in the proximity of the temple’s archway, in a shadow of an enormous sculpture depicting a man in a plate armour, a hammer raised above and a book held in an offhand. Seeing many people passing by nearby, Ion finally convinced himself that he should be safe even if something goes awry with his spell.

He stepped out of the shadow, pointing his finger up – he didn’t want to hurt anyone accidentally – and chanted, some easy sigils flipping through his mind. When a small ball of energy left his finger and flown upwards, he was on the verge of crying from joy. Then he heard a crack, followed by a thud.

‘…’ apparently his missile homed toward the sculpture and broke a part of the hammerhead.

"Blasphemy!" someone shouted.

"It’s him! Catch that boy!" someone pointed towards him.

It was time to get out of that dragon’s den.

‘Shit, I should have also learnt that spell for retreating,’ he thought running, as angry screams followed him for a few streets.

When Ion was sure that he has lost the pursuers, he went back to his uncles’ house – being in close contact with guards had its’ perks, knowing good escape routes in the city just one of them. Exhausted, he took a sip of water and went straight to the bed – despite being in a relatively good shape due to his training regime, two weeks of being bedridden took a toll on his condition.

Following next months he spent most of his time sleeping, thinking about what he saw while dreaming, trying to cast spells in various parts of the city, sleeping again, then slacking in his chores, hardly ever training with a spear anymore…

*****

"…they are appearing more often, I’m telling you!" shouted a black-haired woman with pointy ears, clad in an exquisite blue wizard’s robe covered with intertwining, almost shifting before his eyes runes.

"Look at this notes!" she produced a stack of parchments seemingly from nowhere and slammed it on his deck.

"You might be right…" he stated, flipping through the papers covered with diagrams and statistics.

"Might? I divined their upcoming invasion, I’m sure we will be attacked soon."

"As have many others thought cycles. Yet the Council will answer the same – Inevitables will happen, as always..."

*****

"Eh, another political bullshit!" Ion said, noting what he could remember on one of the parchments. "At least it was the first time I saw a real elf…and she was quite pretty too…”

‘Hmm…In those dreams, I always feel as if everything that I witnessed was happening just right now. I feel like deciding about every action made. Only after waking up I realise it was just another dream,’ he pondered.

‘Also in the dreams, I never feel as if I was lacking some memories of the past nor the information about something, yet it is often a case after waking up.’

*****

He sat with his friends drinking, in a grand hall illuminated by magical lights, sounds of many conversations, fuelled by various alcohol brewages surrounding them. Another Archmage joined their rank, this party was to celebrate that event.

"….aaaand I tell you, that's a brilliant idea!" he turned his attention towards some particularly loud voice, coming from a quite drunken dwarf sitting nearby.

"You take a Portable Hole and roll it…" he gesticulated wildly spilling his beer…which was quite a feat, considering he was holding it with the Mage Hand.

"…mount it at the tip of the arrowhead," the dwarf took a sip. Nobody in his table seemed to pay any attention to him anymore at the moment, maybe except a single gnome, probably an illusionist, surely faking it with his spells.

"…And shoot it with a bow. The best part is you don’t even need to hit someone directly… because inside the arrowhead is a tiny spatial bag…" as soon as the dwarf said that, the gnome suddenly shifted – maybe he wasn’t faking and really listened to small guy’s ramblings – and created an image of an enlarged arrow with modifications the dwarf described earlier.

'Illusory Image – ah, even basic spells could make one's life much easier. Even cantrips, such as Prestidigitation, could be so flexible.'

On a whim he drew a small symbol with it, placing it on a forehead of a particularly nasty sorceress a table away, who already passed out after drinking too much. He shrugged as one of his friends gave him a strange look, but Mordenkainen help, he really hated that woman.

"…a retainer here, a safety pin there… it really might work…" the gnome was mumbling, manipulating with his illusory image.

"…so when it goes inside... BOOM! Everything is gone! GLORIOUS!!!" the dwarf shouted with excitation.

"Just shut up already!" a different wizard shouted and followed by uttering that single word, commanding the dwarf to stay silent.

As he smiled victoriously and turned his attention elsewhere, the angry drunkard gave a murderous gaze, checked his pockets and responded by casting a silenced Fireball. And totally missed his target – not an easy feat, considering that he also enlarged his spell. Literally a critical failure. Or maybe not, after all, he had hit quite many people with it. Mana was immediately drained from the area as many wizards clad themselves with various protective spells. And then the pandemonium started with everyone throwing spells left and right.

Only the gnome, still focused on his illusory image, oblivious to various spells passing in his proximity, murmured: "Using a ballista for that should be an even better choice."

******

"Well, I have to remember to never attend places where many drunken wizards gather. At least this time Vision-me casted the spell I am able to understand, hopefully it would really be useful," Ion quickly wrote sigils, afraid of forgetting them. He had high expectation towards the cantrip mentioned in the dream.

******

"…and that’s the underlying theory behind the advanced energy manipulation,’ an older wizard said to his group, changing an illusory image hovering in his proximity from time to time. ‘The correct application of this technique will allow you to cast much more spells than by relying only on your own mana, the efficiency depending on the environment. I hope that it goes without saying that it won't work in dead-magic zones? Trying to cast with this technique in such areas will even drain your own mana faster…" continued the mage.

"…of course, spells of higher circles would still require comparatively larger amounts of your own mana to initiate…" sitting in his chair, he was fighting trying to not fall asleep. The wizard he was listening to wasn’t the best teacher.

"…there is also a risk of dying due to the overchanneling, should you try to draw more power than your body can withstand; yet it’s something to concern mainly when one is a focal point for a ritual casted by many spellcasters…" sometimes he got an impression that this guy was clueless, only reading from his illusory presentation… but to create an illusion one should know what he wants to create, so how is this possible?

‘…while it is almost impossible to drain whole mana from the area by consecutively casting spells in the same place, as subsequent casts will put more and more strain on a body, not to even mention inner mana limitations, it’s worth noticing…’ by that time almost every mage sitting in the lecture hall was either dozing (some hidden behind illusions) or Messaging to each other, paying close to no attention to the lecture.

He poked a woman sitting few rows behind him with Mage Hand in the back of her head while dodging her Frost Ray.

‘…to sum up, more research on this topic is needed. Now, moving to the next subject…’ and why would you even use a presentation with black letters on a blue background? You could have used all colours in the universe with this spell!

******

‘I already remember giving a similar lecture to other wizards many times in different dreams, sometimes even more detailed. Hopefully, it was more interesting to the guys who had to listen to me. At least I may have a new cantrip to play with soon.’

With a quill, he wrote, ‘those dreams don’t seem to follow a chronological order’.

******

He moved further away from his laboratory table, to which some creature was bound. It suddenly began to trash, spilling away blood from various cuts on its body.

"…No… please… stop this…" it screamed with a hoarse voice.

He decided to put it to a slumber again with a spell. Then concentrated on an entirely different spell, one he started developing moons ago, preparing to cast it another time, using slightly different sigils and incantations. He focused and chanted. Immediately, he felt that temperature in the room was dropping with each second, as azure-blue flames enveloped the bounded subject. Instead of burning, it started to wither away before his eyes. As all the lifeforce left the creature, he inspected its remains; now only a pale, whitish and dehydrated vaguely humanoid shape. He took a sample of tissues and evoking a gust of wind scattered remains from the table.

'Time to use another subject.'

******

‘Yuck, some of those experiments are really gross,’ Ion was fighting nausea as he woke up and recalled various experiments he saw, dissections he made to recover magical materials, spells casted on unwilling targets to develop them and later compare notes showing effects of various approaches. During dreams Vision-he was never concerned with the suffering of creatures he experimented on, deaf to pleads of even those that were humans…

‘Is this really me, my future?’ Ion wondered, not for the first time. From what he understood about magic, it was possible to catch glimpses of a future with the Divination. ‘Will this be the path I take?’

Sometimes he abhorred himself for things he saw Vision-he doing. There were times he hoped that the man in his dreams was someone else, not him – Ion knew that there were spells allowing one to spy on other people, maybe he was somehow scrying a daily life of some other mage, risking his wraith if he even finds out? Yet the chronology probably should not be messed up in such a case. Moreover, any powerful wizard would surely have some degree of defences against scrying, especially made by someone so weak as he was…

It had to be his future then... but the divining future wasn’t without faults, maybe not all of what he saw was bound to happen?

‘Or maybe,’ despite all of his anxieties Ion was still intoxicated by all the possibilities those dreams offered, ‘I would be able to use results of those experiments without actually performing them, cheating the Fate somehow? Could I somehow influence what I am seeing, what I am doing in those dreams?’

He searched for a moment and took a correct parchment from his stack – one already covered with many symbols as it wasn’t the first dream in which he was testing that azure-fire spell. He wrote other rows of sigils - trying to recreate a correct pattern was a pyrrhic task - for starters the spell was designed to be at least of the 4th circle, far above his current capacities and understanding. Moreover, constant revisions made by the mage, along with Ion not being able to discern which version was earlier, which sigil pattern closer to effect desired by Vision-he, was making it even more confusing.

About how to cast other spells used during experiments in this dream, he couldn’t recall anything useful at all – it seemed to be occurring often, visions from which he could take bits of spell knowledge actually being a minority of all his dreams. Not even including those that he deemed to be ‘completely normal dreams’ like training with Gerard, meeting with that cleric girl from earlier – why would he even want to?, pranking Aaron – well, he was a jerk lately, so maybe he will treat some things he had done to him while dreaming as an inspiration.

‘I have to finally tell my family that I’m going to become a powerful wizard.’

With everything, he learned recently they shouldn’t doubt him anymore.

’Maybe they will arrange me to meet with some wizard or cleric, who could explain those visions? But will it be reasonable to speak to anyone about this?’ according to all glimpses he had, if mages found interest in something, they were often willing to take various measures to uncover the secret and the last thing he wanted was ending as a guinea pig in someone’s laboratory.

After all, memories of Vision-he’s indifference toward their suffering were still vivid in his mind.