It was wrong, all wrong! How could he have been so foolish? It was only for a brief moment, the barest glimpse of insatiable rage, but it was undeniable. The moment they opened that vault, that subspace, something wrenched them inside and locked the door tight. It was going to kill them all.

  Gods how could he be so stupid? He’d meant to warn them not to actually approach nor enter the vault, just locate it. But in the aftermath of that entity's rampage on the Academy, he’d been too distracted, his meanings blurred, and now others were going to pay for it dearly for his witless mistake.

  Era gripped the fabric of space within his palm, violently rending it apart such that a seam large enough for him to step through was torn into the very fabric of reality. Any other would be incapable of breaking into a subspace as complicated as these. But with his eyes, Era saw everything, those golden threads from which all life was sown, that myriad wash of opalescence which he bound to his will in such great quantities–magic, those spots of reality which wound and unwound as dense streams of energy slipped by.

  “Woah woah woah, mister! How did you-” A random spirit said to Era the moment he stepped within the Spirit Dwelling.

  Era’s eyes immediately locked onto the great glowing sphere at the center of the realm, a core so magically dense as to almost bear a gravitational pull in its own right. Without even the slightest twitch, he teleported to just before the orb. It looked to be stable, albeit remarkably powerful in its own right. Usually, he’d like to take academic precautions, poke and prod to find its weakest entry point. But this was not the time.

  Era rose his right hand into the air, gathering a mote of spatial, chronal, and gravitational magic within his palm. He sliced downward with strength enough to sunder mountains, splitting for just a fraction of the moment the exterior of the subspace, destabilizing it.

  The air quaked as the excess energy ran wild, tearing into the molecules hovering in the air and ripping them apart one by one, attempting to surge into his body and split him just as he it. But Era was no weakling, and certainly no fool. The rush bowed around him, raging madly against the hundreds of wards shielding him every type of assault imaginable.

  Without even the slightest hesitation, Era bore into the magical core, worming his way to its center. The further he went, the greater the push back, yet no matter how hard it pressed, he pressed only stronger.

  He landed hard on his feet, sending a shiver through the tattered earth with his violent descent. He could still feel the tug of the space trying to expel him, but it was failing to break past the barriers encapsulating his soul.

  Era quickly scanned his surroundings, legendary blade already in hand. The sky overhead was clear and bright, the ground damp and broken, no sign of an aggressor anywhere in sight. The only thing of any note that he saw was…

  Era teleported across the shattered earth onto a great stone palm coated in dried blood. Trenton sat in the center, his back to Era. His party lay unconscious in a small line at his side, each carefully bandaged and wrapped, a little portable healing station sitting in the middle of them, whirring away its little engine.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  Karfice looked unharmed, but his soul was nearly empty, drained of nearly all magical potency. Whatever he cast, it must’ve been one hell of a spell. Looking around, Era could still see the residuals of whatever had taken place here, shifting blues, whites, and yellows twisting angrily around each other everywhere he looked. It wasn't light by any means, but he’d recover in time.

  Garrote had a nasty burn in the middle of his chest, several layers of skin and muscle evaporated in the blast–likely lightning if Era had to guess. He looked battered, but he too would live. Avardis had a burn similar to Garrote and his body was bent in odd places, but he too looked more or less salvageable. Leo, however, was in a much more critical state.

  His chest shuddered with the rise and fall of every breath, the sound of shifting bones present even in the simple movement. His arms and legs were barely clinging to his torso, many of the major tendons and arteries severed, or rather blown to nothing. His body was covered in black patches of seared skin. In fact, he should be dead.

  Era knelt by Leo, taking close note of the boy's injuries. His organs had been crushed, most of his veins and arteries ruptured, and he was losing hand over fist and 24 points, not to mention the deep grooves which clearly burned away much of his nervous system. Wounds like these would kill even Era himself. By all accounts the boy should be dead…but he wasn’t, and there was no mistaking it.

  Just then, he’d noticed something, something he’d missed before in his brief glance over the boy. There was something nestled in his core. It was bright, unnaturally so, like a dense orb of pure energy from which he leeched to sustain himself. No wonder he’d managed to survive a zenith cast centered on himself. He was drawing from another’s life energy, not to cast, but simply to keep himself from passing away. Although, what it was exactly Era couldn’t tell. It kept shifting shapes, like a child that didn’t know what it wanted to be yet.

  Era waved his hand. Leo, as well as Garrote and Avardis’s bodies all began to mend back together, quickly restoring them to stable states of life. When he was thoroughly satisfied with his work, he stood again, surveying the group once more, finally noticing what had been bugging him the entire time. One was missing, Kiva.

  Era looked back to Trenton. He was sitting impossibly still, seemingly unbothered by the pulsating wrap of flesh around his stubbed left shoulder. From the initial angle, Era wasn’t able to see exactly what Trenton was looking at, but now it was much clearer. In front of Trenton, born of a simple rounded stone jutted from the earth, was a grave, a single white lily placed before it.

  Here lies Kiva

  Beloved by all. Taken far too soon. May her soul find eternal peace in Adrieith’s embrace

  Trenton gazed upon the grave, his eyes hollow, empty, a look Era well recognized, one he remembered quite well. He sat next to Trenton, joining him in his silent commemoration of the girl’s life. For a time, neither moved and neither spoke, allowing the tentative peace to envelop them.

  Then, with a deep breath, Trenton stood, his body straightening but his gaze unshifting. He paused before the grave, looking at it with that same lost expression dancing in his eyes.

  Without so much as looking at Era, he stooped to pick up his companions, setting off towards the peak of a great spire in the distance. He stepped out into the open air, a thin set of stone stairs ascending to meet him with every step. They molded and shifted under his feet, almost as if he were stepping onto the gentle touch of a soft pillow. Era allowed the boy his solemn march, following behind at a ways until they reached the top.

  Sitting there, in the middle of the great spire was a simple door, fuzzy at the edges. A final protection, it seemed, against any unwarranted intruders. Only Era could see the way forward, the way to the true heart of the vault. He grabbed the door, unwinding the magic enshrouding it, and opened, allowing both Trenton and himself to step through. Even if he did not feel, Trenton had earned this reward, whatever lay inside, right along with Era. That much, at least, he would never deny the boy.