"Any magic path will fade away eventually. To make such a thing is too complex... It just doesn't last as long as other things do. The centuries aren't merciful to the shortcuts created by the mages of old."

Excerpt from "On the Topic of Eternity" by Hanos Saphireblade

***

“What is this?”

“A remnant from the era of the non-humans, Arleon. It is known as a Traversing Stone. There are a few dozens of them left in the world. They were created by the goliaths back in their prime. They are collectively called the Goliaths’ Web, understandably… They were still used from time when I was young, but now are completely abandoned. If it still works, then we’re granted quick access to the Inner Fantasy. If it doesn’t… There will be a long journey ahead of us. At least all this wandering and preparations in the north won't be for naught."

Farnaraen and his former disciple were the only people noticeable in the night’s thick veil of darkness. They were illuminated by a ball of light floating next to Arleon. In front of them stood a large boulder with strange symbols (far more chaotic and ancient than the Emhaelic alphabet) engraved in its smooth sides. Except for it, the field surrounding the two sorcerers was perfectly ordinary. Far beyond their backs shone the lights of just one amongst many of the city states that dotted the lands south of the Cargaen Sea. The name of this one was slightly different than the one remembered by the Thirdborn. Those places were insignificant for him and far too different from what he remembered.

The ancient Changeling was feeling well in his renewed, young skin. The few rituals he performed during the last eight years managed to bring his body back from its fragile, old state straight into the golden years of its maturity. Many would find Farnaraen attractive in his current form – tall, muscular, with silvery blond hair and deep violet eyes, holding some undefinable wisdom and glowing strangely. His short, unkempt beard just added to the sense of power coming off of him.

“Why didn’t we use it when fleeing from the Inner Fantasy during the Ascension Crisis?” asked Arleon. He managed to stop addressing the Thirdborn as ‘lord’ long ago, but asides from that he was still treating Farnaraen as his master. His tone was far more than just respectful.

“I was afraid”, answered the older Changeling while shrugging his shoulders. “People were still using it back then. And it’s not exactly hard to follow someone through the Traversing Stones. I had some pretty unpleasant experiences because of this in the two thousand years during which I used it to travel. Stand back now. And don't move a muscle.”

Arleon obeyed his command silently and with a lowered head. His manner of doing things annoyed Farnaraen. After all those years his former apprentice was still acting like a servant in his presence, even after three centuries of separation. But he wasn't in the mood to speak about that right now.

The Thirdborn sat down on the ground and closed his eyes. He focused his magical power and let a powerful blast of Conquering enter the Traversing Stone. He instantly sensed a similar amount of the same magic rushing towards him. For some it would be almost deadly, but for Farnaraen it was just like a flea’s bite.

The Traversing Stone was based on a simple principle – it had to be overpowered first to work. It wasn’t an easy task for most sorcerers, as the magical barrier preventing them from accessing the Goliaths’ Web needed an insane amount of Conquering to lift itself. This was a pain in the ass, but Farnaraen understood why it was done – the goliaths, like any of the older non-humans, were afraid of someone using their inventions. Unfortunately for them, the Thirdborn managed to break the barrier after just four tries. His skills in Conquering were getting rusty, but his rough potential compensated for that. And the boulder's counterattacks didn't even scratch him.

He opened his eyes and smiled faintly. The engravings in the boulder had begun to shine with soft blue light. A glowing figure (vaguely reminiscent of a door of massive size) was forming on the stone. It took about a minute for it to take shape and fully open, revealing a strange looking passage leading to a chaotic whirl of blue and turquoise. The place looked like it didn’t belong to this world. And that was the case, in a sense – the goliaths had built it outside the boundaries of the material plane. How this was possible remained a mystery…

“Follow me, Arleon”, uttered the Thirdborn as he stepped through the stone and into the storm of colors that formed the Web’s innards. Arleon followed him with an unconfident step and unsure expression.

***

“This could’ve gone better…” the Thirdborn murmured while looking at his surroundings. His former apprentice was kneeling on the ground next to him and throwing up for the second time since they left the Goliaths’ Web.

“What… What the fuck was that?” Arleon managed to utter before emptying his stomach yet again.

“I have no idea… Probably no one does.” Farnaraen swallowed. “The Web shouldn’t be this… thin and fragile. Maybe it’s finally collapsing after so many millennia… In any case, we won’t use it from now on.”

Their short journey through the Web was very different from what the ancient Changeling was used to. The paths in the Web were unstable and dangerous now and it took Farnaraen some hours to orientate in the decaying parts of it. They managed to get out, but not through the right exit. They were in some rough, dusty basement now, with the Traversing Stone behind their backs, half of it buried in the floor. The place looked deserted and unused.

“Get ahold of yourself quicker, Arleon. I’ll go ahead and scout a little bit. We need to learn our location.”

The Thirdborn left the basement with these words and went up a flight of wooden stairs. They were in a bad state, to say the least. The only source of light was his own magic. The stairs led him to a miserable, tiny room. There were a few inhabitants here – a couple of seemingly dangerous thugs sleeping on simple beds next to some skinny, ugly women with barely any clothing on them. Cheap whores, undoubtedly. None of the four residents were particularly happy to see the Changeling, but he quickly rendered them unconscious with a simple spell. The door was tightly locked, but he didn’t want to search for the key, so he just Changed it into air.

The view that the street (dirty, unpaved and crooked) revealed to him was quite something. The city was apparently at the bottom of some kind of chasm. Gargantuan walls were surrounding it from three sides. The fourth was occupied by a hill tickly covered in buildings and illuminated by countless colorful lights. At the top of it stood a castle of considerable size. Its crystal walls held a unique beauty. Tonight they were lit in golden and red.

“Oh… this place, huh?” whispered Farnaraen to himself. He had visited the city a few times before, but its name was probably changed since then. But the nickname…

Were the people still calling it ‘the city of cutthroats'?