She was lifted from the ground and suspended in the air on a loose cloud of blue light, then shuttled through the doors out the back of the great hall. The crowd mumbled in surprise, and the king stood still. Both waiting for a proper explanation of what had happened.

Internally, Orden's heart was racing as he watched the traveler being whisked away. He knew that the ritual had not gone as planned and he feared the consequences of the imperfections. Despite his panic, Orden forced himself to maintain a facade of confidence as he turned towards the crowd and addressed them in a calm, measured tone.

“Apologies for the delay, Your Majesty, my lords and ladies. We succeeded in the execution of the ritual, but it was not perfect. Several small flaws in our formulas caused the traveler to arrive in suboptimal condition. The trip across the stretch of time and space was likely very hard on her body, and she will require rest. We are sure that she will be ready for introductions before long.” he said to the crowd, making sure to keep his voice steady despite the unease he felt.

There was mumbling of discontent from the crowd, but Orden knew that he could not afford to show any weakness. He stepped toward the king and spoke to him in a low voice, trying to convey his concerns without alerting the others.

“If Your Majesty desired, I could take you to the visitor directly. I am sure we could force her awake. For your safety, however, I advise against close contact. She may have some sort of infection or sickness we are unaware of. She hails from another world, after all.” he said, hoping that the king would take his warning to heart.

“There is no need for that. Notify me directly as soon as there are any changes. That will be all.” The King replied, his tone dismissive as he turned to leave.

Orden felt a wave of relief wash over him as the king departed, but he knew that the danger was far from over. He watched the crowds follow the king, their hurried steps betraying their curiosity and anxiety. He knew that he would have to tread carefully in the days to come, or risk exposing the true extent of his panic.

After the last of the guests and nobles had left the hall, Orden let out a deep sigh and leaned against a nearby column, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion. He had maintained his confident facade throughout the night, but inside, he felt like he had been walking on thin ice. Standing next to the king was never easy, and tonight had been no exception.

He turned to the team inspecting the runes and called out, his voice tired but firm, "Status!" Orden knew that the success of the ritual depended on the integrity of the runes, and any flaws could have disastrous consequences.

The team had worked tirelessly in the lead up to the event, poring over every detail of the runes to ensure that they were as perfect as possible. But even with their best efforts, they had known that it was impossible to account for every contingency.

"We found three burnt strokes so far. Only in the stabilizing ring. If we find any more we might need to re-craft the outer ring," a woman's voice called out from the crowd of mages.

Orden frowned at the news. He knew that the stabilizing ring was critical to the success of the ritual, and any damage to it could have dire consequences. He made a mental note to keep a close eye on the situation and ensure that any necessary repairs were made as soon as possible. The safety of the traveler and the integrity of the ritual were of the utmost importance, and he would do whatever it took to ensure that both were protected.

The rune-work was assembled in a uniquely designed 5 tier layout. Usually rituals of this size would use only three with several orbiting rings for stability. However, they had designed this construct to be as stable as possible.

Orden activated levitation and lifted himself above the rune to avoid damaging it further. He moved to the area with the largest damage and motioned for the man who was already looking into it to move on. This specific defect was in the fourth ring, so indeed only the stability-focused protections had suffered any damage. In brief, the two outer rings where the fault was located were designed as extremely over-engineered safeguards.

Five intricately designed rings were used for a summoning ritual. The first ring, called the "Focus," designated the desired outcome and its details. The second ring provided finer adjustments and redundancy to ensure stability in case of failures in the first ring. The third ring was where most effort was put into, as it acted as the dials and lines to hone in on the target. Unlike typical summoning rings, the stability measures were directly integrated into the five ring design to ensure that any potential errors were minimized.

In the context of the summoning technique described, adding a third dimension can be seen as similar to adding depth to a drawing. Just as a two-dimensional drawing can be limited in its ability to convey depth and perspective, traditional summoning techniques are limited to the same plane as the summoner. By adding a third dimension, however, the summoning technique gains an additional layer of complexity and possibility, much like a three-dimensional drawing can offer a greater sense of depth and realism.

In this case, the addition of a third dimension to the summoning technique expands the range of objects that can be summoned. Rather than being limited to objects that exist within the same plane as the summoner, the summoner can now draw upon objects from other planes of existence, greatly increasing the scope of what is possible through summoning. This expansion of possibility is similar to how a drawing with added depth can offer new perspectives and possibilities, unlocking new creative potential.

By broadening the scope of summoning to include objects from other planes of existence, this project aimed to expand the technique's potential, much like how adding depth to a drawing expands its creative possibilities. The theory behind this idea coincided with the notion that alternate realities exist elsewhere and treating them as if they exist in the same plane of existence creates a paradox that filters through the summoning ritual, causing a vacuum of reality. However, reality is loath to break its own rules and will try to resolve this vacuum. By isolating the world from the vacuum, one can force nature to pull from another reality, avoiding the need for reality to break its own rules. Something it is loathed to do.

This was the third dimension they achieved. Reality was no longer a strict guide to their work. As long as something “could” exist in theory, they could possibly summon it. With this ritual, they could “summon” any fantastical being or object they desired.

The paradoxical analogy of trying to grab things that didn’t exist was the reason two dedicated safety rings were designed and integrated into the base ritual. The two dedicated safety rings were like wearing a chain mail glove while reaching for an invisible knife, whereas unincorporated rings would be like wearing a wool glove. It's protecting you from a danger, but not from the right danger.

The same idea applied here: They had no idea what forces might interact with their rune on the other side. For all they knew, they could be reaching into a world of infinite chaos. If that were the case, then more than just the local area would be destroyed in case of failure. It wouldn't be out of the question to assume the continent might be destroyed. All the more reason to be infinitely careful.

The two rings were their chain mail gloves to protect against such things. They were lucky that the universe they reached into seemed to be very similar to theirs. If it had been more different than the few imperfections present in the outer rings might have spread further. The burns found in the outer rings were the wounds from the hypothetical invisible knife, after all.

By all metrics, the fact that the visitor only appeared a few feet off the ground and unconscious was a remarkable success. The alternative was a fair bit more apocalyptic.

“Somebody, get in contact with Lander, tell him we need more marble plates before morning.” Orden yelled. The rest of the mages nodded and went about their assigned tasks.

Orden wiped his face with his sleeve to get the sleep out of his eyes. He had a strong feeling that he wasn’t going to get much sleep in the near future. Then he floated towards the door at the back of the hall.

-----

The wing of the estate where the mages worked was shrouded in mystery, not because of any nefarious secrets, but because of the chaos that reigned within. The space was cluttered with journals and papers stacked haphazardly on every wall, and every table was strewn with spreadsheets and blueprints. Navigating the area was treacherous, with one misstep capable of sending books and papers cascading down, blocking the walking path. The mages were faintly embarrassed by the disarray, but the sheer volume of work required to make their project a success left little time for cleaning up.

Orden had gotten used to the increasing treacherous path and navigated toward the safe room. It was the room designated for setting down either very important or very dangerous things. Which in practice tended to be the same thing with this crowd. He was surprised when he rounded the corner to see a pair of scowling, red eyes staring back at him.

“Why are you here?” Orden said. Displeased that his one major request to the king in five years was being ignored yet again.

The woman in front of him was almost inhuman looking. Piercing red eyes, stark white hair, and skin that was as white as driven snow. She was a part of the great evil that he and his team were trying to eradicate. They claimed to have the power to heal, but in reality, their magic was just as tainted as their bloodlines. Perversions of “legitimate” life.

The woman's hatred for Orden was palpable. Her words were laced with venom, dripping with disdain for the man in front of her. "I never have, and never will, need your permission to be anywhere for any reason," she spat. "I work at the king's behest. If he told me to kick down a door, I'd ask how many survivors he wanted."

Orden tried to keep his composure, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of getting under his skin. "You didn't answer my question," he said firmly, trying to assert his authority.

The woman's lip curled in disgust. "If you must know," she said through gritted teeth, "I was informed by a little bird that there was an injured visitor to the estate. It is my duty to look after any and all who may need help." Orden could feel her hatred radiating off of her in waves, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear for what she might do next. Despite knowing she could do nothing.

This woman was the Royal Medea. Valotia.

Despite being associated with The Magi and possessing mystical blood, The King wished to maintain a favorable relationship with the church. Therefore, he appointed one of their members as a retainer. Her official duties entailed providing assistance to the staff and royal family, particularly spiritual guidance. However, in practice, this translated to her scrutinizing various aspects of the estate and disapproving of them in a polished and sophisticated manner.

"Well then, did you come here to actually contribute something worthwhile, or are you just here to get your daily dose of belittlement?" sneered Orden.

"I have thoroughly examined the girl and have found no apparent signs of harm. However, your vile and blasphemous experiment has undoubtedly inflicted unspeakable damage upon the innocent child. If any issues should arise, you shall seek my counsel immediately," declared Valotia with a cold, calculated tone.

To this, Orden retorted, "Over my dead body!"

Valotia bitter glare turned, and she smiled vindictively, "Oh, I'm afraid you may not have that luxury. But it can be arranged" As she turned to leave through the same way she came, leaving Orden fuming with anger and frustration, another woman approached him with a grave expression etched on her face.

"Stop antagonizing the church mouse, Eliza. She always files a complaint with the king when you instigate with her," the woman warned.

"I could care less, Eliza," Orden replied.

"Actually, it's 'couldn't.' When you say 'could,' it means you still care a bit," Eliza corrected him.

"Seriously, do you want to give me a grammar lesson right now?" Orden snapped back. Eliza sensed that Orden was already agitated and decided to change the subject.

"I came to find you. Valotia said the girl is stable and will probably be up by morning. I'm impressed by how seriously she takes her job when there's a reason to," Eliza said.

"I know, I just had the displeasure of hearing that from her myself." Orden said.

As the two of them walked down the unusually empty hall, they knew that everyone was busy after performing the ritual they had worked on for years. It was no surprise that some had already run off, content with what they had received from the king. Mages did not trust each other, so it was a miracle that as many of them stayed as they did.

They turned the corner and saw the safe room at the end of the left side, surrounded by powerful wards. Orden weakened the wards with a wave of his hand, and they entered the room, with Orden snapping his fingers to return the wards to their previous state. In the corner of the room, the visitor lay on a bed while one of the mages who carried her in here stood up from the chair next to her bed and approached them.

"Report" demanded Orden.

"We have conducted multiple tests, and there are no indications that she is suffering from any illness or injuries related to the ritual. However, it is worth noting that she appears to be the same species as us, with only minor differences," stated the mage.

"What do you mean by 'minor differences'?" inquired Orden.

The mage beckoned the two over and presented them with a clipboard containing the medical results. Eliza peered over Orden's shoulder and remarked, "She has no Reflant?"

"How is that possible?" questioned Orden.

“We don’t know, from what we could tell she seems to function just fine without it. The rest of her anatomy seems adjusted for it. But without cutting her open, we can’t confirm how.” The mage said.

The reflant was an internal organ. An important one at that. It served a similar purpose to the liver. Filtering out toxins and other various functions, though it only filters out physical toxins. The reflant does the same job, but with immaterial toxins. It was more accurate to say the reflant was the liver of the soul. It did more than simply vent toxins, it vented excess mana as well.

In this case, the visitor seemed to be from a world where people of her species didn’t have the reflant. As a result, her liver was much larger than normal and stretched the whole length of space where the reflant would be. From the apparent age of the visitor and the fact that she wasn’t dead, that meant that she lived perfectly normally with this mutation, as likely did everyone from her home world. Calling it a mutation might even be unfair, considering that this might be normal in her world.

Results of this could be substantial. The enlarged liver means that resistance to natural toxins like poison would be much higher. Alcohol would also have a lessened effect on her body. Pretty much every function of the liver would be increased drastically.

This would mean that any mana that passes through her body would be unfiltered before she used it. Which could lead to a myriad of issues. Mana poisoning being the most extreme, as she literally had nothing stopping her body from overloading on mana. There is no telling what could happen if she were to be immersed in a large concentration of mana. She could possibly die.

“Keep me informed on the condition of the visitor. If the Medea comes back around, tell her nothing.” Orden said.

“Yes sir.” The mage said. With a small bow, the mage returned to their seat and resumed their investigation.

“We need to talk.” Eliza said.

“Yes, we do.” Orden said.

They left the room and walked down to the far side of the hall to another room. They shut the door behind them and Orden locked it magically. Nothing short of tearing the door off its hinges would let it open. Eliza sat down in one of the chairs surrounding a large conference table and stared down between her hands for a second. She was silent for a few moments before she started panicking and shaking in her seat.

“Oh god, we’re ruined! We're gonna die!” Eliza said.

“Eliza, calm down.” Orden said. He couldn’t help but agree with her sentiment, but he knew panicking wasn’t going to help.

“No! Orden… No, I won't calm down! We just spent 5 years bringing a mutant across the fold of reality, and she doesn’t even have a Reflant. She could die the moment she leaves that room! How am I supposed to be calm?!” Eliza said.

“How do you think having a breakdown is going to help?” Orden said, hoping to plead to her rational side.

“IT’S MAKING ME FEEL BETTER!” Eliza screamed at the top of her lungs. Bursting from her seat and staring frantically at Orden. Then she realized what she had just done and sunk back down in her seat.

“We need to stay calm. If we aren’t careful, then we might get everyone in the project killed.” Orden said.

“Y-You’re right… We need to worry about our escape. What’s our first step?” Eliza said. She was in a state of lucidity and was thinking entirely practically. But the panic still had her mind frazzled.

“First, we need to identify if the girl is safe to leave that room. If she can’t then we start planning. There is still a chance this might work out.” Orden said.

“Right…” Eliza said.

Knowing what they must do next, they began to plan.