“I know you’re here,” Hannah said as she kept on polishing a quartz glass.

There was no need for her to do so. In fact, there was no need for her to do anything. Her assistance in taking down the general had been noted by both the lord mayor and the Order of the Seven Moons, which had generously provided her with enough gold to buy a house on the edge of the city’s noble district and live in opulence for the rest of her life. Instead, she had chosen to remain where she was and the money was stashed away to buy enough food and drinks for the inn not to have to worry about it.

“When I worked for Adzorg, it was my job to keep track of thieving mages.” She turned to her right. “Plus, your illusion sucks.”

“I should have known,” Dallion said, dropping his spell. In a flash of an eye, he was suddenly there, sitting at the bar across from her. “I’ve come to talk.”

“When a noble says that, it’s usually bad news.”

“I’m hoping the talk will turn into something more. Can we go into the kitchen?”

The Icepickers in the room kept discussing jobs and standings. The guild was doing relatively well for itself. Even with artifacts no longer bringing in anywhere nearly as much money as before, the city still relied on them for sanitation work. Though by no means as lucrative, it ensured a steady flow of funds and, relatively speaking, the job was no different than before.

None of them were able to notice Dallion’s presence. Even if he had dropped his illusion for Hannah, he had kept it for everyone else.

“We’re fine here,” Hannah said.

“Pan might want to be part of this.”

“Pan knows a lot more than you think. So, you started your own little settlement and are having issues filling it?” She gave Dallion an annoyed glare. “Taking the furies, taking the Icepickers, and then the hunters too, I’d guess?”

“My, my. Pan sure knows a lot.”

“What do you expect? He was a damned copyette emperor!” The innkeeper hissed. “And before you ask, the answer is no.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind joining me?” Dallion flashed a smile.

“That only worked when you were a newbie.” The woman barely reacted. “Don’t get me wrong. I still like you, but there’s a time when a woman must acknowledge her limits. Facing the general showed me where mine were.”

“You’re stronger than most I’ve met.”

Gratitude emanated from the woman, combined with elements of sadness.

“Knowing you, you probably mean it. That only makes it worse… I know where you’re going, even if you don’t. That’s part of my curse. Both you and Eury have set your aims on the top. Every otherworlder does sooner or later. The only ones who don’t are those who’ve died or given up.”

Dallion cast a two-circle spell, summoning a glass of nectar in front of him. It was an expensive drink—more expensive than the inn itself, but at his level of perception, he had learned to pamper himself a bit from time to time.

“I only want to end the war,” he said after a sip.

“Funny. I’m sure that’s what everyone says.”

“I mean it.”

“So do they, I’m sure. Have you noticed how few wars there’ve been within the empire?”

“I know a lot of people who’d disagree.”

“And they’d be wrong. Everyone talks about the Wetie civil wars and the west frontier skirmishes, never taking the wilderness into account. The Imperial legions didn’t roam the wilderness for fun. We, the hunters, and even the Academy snuffed out most threats before they could cause any damage. Historically, it used to be normal for settlements to vanish, destroyed by chainlings or other wilderness creatures.”

“There still are wars,” Dallion said in a somber tone.

“But you plan to stop them and for that, you need my strength, right?” Hannah crossed her arms.

There was no denying that she was right. Dallion’s short-term goals were to gain enough strength and influence to get close and neutralize the Tamin Emperor. His long-term goals were indeed to become the sole power of the world. If walking through the next gate would make him a Moon, he’d do anything to join their ranks. Then he’d be able to adjust the rules of the world so that the void couldn’t tempt anyone and not only that.

“You don’t need me, Dal.” Hannah turned away. “This fight you’re aiming for is for the strong, not a sealed has-been such as me. I’ll leave Pan to make his own mind, but—”

“What if I unseal you?” Dallion asked.

The innkeeper froze.

“If I make you an awakened again, right here and now, will you join Adzorg by my side?”

“You’ve become a real bastard,” the innkeeper whispered. The temptation was too much for even her to refuse and Dallion knew it. Even after years of acceptance and discipline, an awakened could never forget the sensation. They could pretend that they did, they could even convince themselves for a while, but when the option was given to them, there could be only one way forward.

“Sorry.” Dallion stood up and walked up to Hannah. “Is that a yes?”

The innkeeper turned around.

Dallion placed his hand on her shoulder.

PERSONAL AWAKENING

Reality was replaced by a room without doors or windows. The familiar blue rectangle floated in the middle, stone walls surrounding it on all sides. The only difference was that in Hannah’s case, they were made of crystal.

“That’s a new one,” Dallion said. “Didn’t know you could get that.”

“I’m a domain ruler.” The innkeeper quickly slashed through the rectangle before Dallion could get a good look at it. “Or was. Things are a bit different.”

Right, Dallion thought. Any changes I should know about, Adzorg?

I’m definitely not the right person to ask, the former archmage replied. At the time, I used artifacts to make up for her lost skills, but I’ve never considered unsealing her. That’s usually done for lesser awakened. In theory, it’s not even supposed to be possible, thus the diamond walls.

“So, this is diamond.” Dallion slid his hand along a wall. They were perfectly smooth, as if made of glass.

“At least as hard,” Hannah admitted. “I tried breaking through it in the early days.”

Dallion concentrated, examining the room with his aether vision. Magic threads went through the diamond bricks, like a mesh. At first glance, there was no indication of a door opening of any sort. Looking closer, though, one could see places in which the threads were slightly unaligned, as if someone had cut through, then hastily glued them back together.

“Any skills you can use?” Dallion kept on following the “cuts” throughout the room.

“I’m sealed, not delevelled,” Hannah said. “I can use what I’ve learned, but I don’t get help.”

“So, no markers.” Dallion summoned his Nox dagger, then carved a line in part of the wall.

A slight scar appeared on Hannah’s cheek.

Careful, dear boy. Try to force through it and you’ll end up killing her.

So, that was part of the game. Dallion had wondered what the penalty would be. With the last person he’d helped, he had put his own awakening powers at risk. In this case, Hannah’s life was on the line, which was the exact thing he was after.

“I’ve good news and bad news,” he said. “Looks like this whole thing is a puzzle.”

“And the good news?”

“Your life's on the line.”

“I knew there was a silver lining.” The woman didn’t seem overly concerned.

“You could be a bit more engaged.”

“Because a boy that used to cry in his room a few years ago has come to return my powers? I remember when you stood in my inn bleeding and crying that the Mirror Pool had stolen your precious gear. Don’t think that just because you’ve gained some skills, you’re infallible.”

I’ve gained all the skills, Dallion corrected mentally.

“You’re not the first to try to unseal me, so I know perfectly what’s at stake.”

Unsummoning the Nox dagger, Dallion cast a flight spell on himself. There was a good chance there would be combat—in most cases, when dealing with awakening powers, it always came to that. Then again, there was a slight chance that the challenge was entirely mental. When he had unsealed his mother, there hadn’t been any fighting, although she had only been a level one awakened.

“Do you remember your realm?” Dallion asked.

“It’s not something I could forget. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What was it like?”

“You’re asking me that?” She crossed her arms.

If the room was a folded representation of her realm, then having an idea of what it was like might prove to be the key to unfolding it without causing any tears. Dallion had already established that it wasn’t a simple matter of rearranging pieces, like in a mending maze.

“A mansion,” the woman said.

“A mansion?” Dallion looked at her. “Didn’t you have one as a noble?”

“A mansion, not a city full of them.”

“A mansion on a field,” he said, more to himself.

There probably was some charm to it for someone who’d spent their entire life in a bustling city of nobles. Some calm and quiet away from it all could be bliss. As a hunter, he knew the feeling all too well.

“Get ready,” Dallion summoned his hammer. “I want to try something.” He flew up to where he could see a prominent cut in the magic threads. “This might hurt.”

Counting to three, he then swung the hammer, hitting the brick with the cut. During the impact, his magic threads extended, entering within the diamond. Splitting into instances, Dallion manipulated the threads in a series of ways, from attempting to absorb them, to combining them together. All the time, he had one instance carefully observe Hannah.

On the surface, nothing happened, but within he saw a magic thread appear. In one instance, the faint thread appeared among the rest, then slowly faded away.

“You gotta be kidding.” Dallion laughed.

“I take it that’s the bad news?”

“The Order never sealed you.”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

“You’ve been doing it.”

Giving up. It was said that the vast majority of awakened gave up along the way, stopping at comfortable levels. The lower levels preferred the comfort of the Moons’ protection. The mid-levels wanted to shield themselves from constantly looking over their shower. Even the high-levels chose to take a rest at what they saw as the pinnacle of their life. The same was valid for the sealed as well. The Order didn’t do anything; rather, they merely implemented a trick that had people fight against themselves. The seal was trauma—a loss that shook an awakened’s very being to the point that they built a wall around themselves to protect them from a similar experience. Despite the pain and suffering the wall brought, they viewed it as better than the alternative, and that was because beyond it there was another part of them that was so traumatized it had them protecting that wall and fighting to keep it whole with everything they had.

In confirmation of Dallion’s words, the walls and ceiling of the room shattered, bringing them to a new realm. Vast fields were visible all around, along with a single giant mansion in the far distance.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Hannah said, but it was a different Hannah.

A girl dressed in light sun gold armor blocked the way to the mansion; the spitting image of the person Dallion had seen in her memories. She was a prodigy, one who had become a domain-ruler on her own, one who had mastered eight of the twelve skills and whose body and reaction traits were slightly higher than Dallion’s.

“When I made the decision to join the Imperial Legions, I made the decision to block off the part of me that led me here. I’m content now. I’m happy.”

“Any chance we can discuss this so I change your mind?” Dallion asked, adding as much calm to his words as his music skill allowed him.

COMBAT INITIATED

Guess not.