Elliott snuck out of the house under the cover of [Conceal], stepping into the narrow cobblestone street. It was quiet outside with not a single candle lit in any windows or hanging outside doors. A light drizzle gently pattered down.

  [Cat’s Eyes]

  The spell applied to his eyes, allowing him to see in the darkness, though details were less sharp and colours were muted. Not that colours mattered anyway when he was surrounded by red bricks and grey cobblestone. There were other spells he could have used. Ones that would give him perfect vision as if it were daylight, but Elliott wasn’t one to use more mana than was required, even if it would barely touch his reserves. He saved that for combat. Or theatrics.

  He quickly examined the edges of his coat, then the sleeves and the cuffs before extending his hands out in front of him. He checked the palms and then the backs, and noticed a couple of spots of blood on the pinky finger of his right hand. He held it out in the drizzle and rubbed it clean before examining the finger again. There we go. Spotless.

  He turned left, walking a little down the road until he came to a crossroads, where he turned left again.

  [Exalted Perception]

  The spell enhanced his vision in a different manner, allowing him to see through illusions and invisibility. Perfect to locate hidden traps, or in this case, a [Stealthed] Isabel, patiently waiting a few metres down the road, leaning against a wall.

  He walked over to her and brought her under his [Conceal], so he could see her normally but still keep their presence from others.

  “You can drop your stealth,” he said as he dismissed the [Exalted Perception]. Most magic had cons, almost as if to balance out its effects. Mostly, the con was merely the amount of mana it would take, or the casting time, or the possibility of mana fatigue – none of which were things Elliott had to consider these days – but sometimes, the magic gave you one thing at the cost of another.

  [Exalted Perception] allowed him to see behind illusions and invisibility at the cost of seeing anything else. Useful when he could be stationary and had the time to look around. Not so much otherwise. But like [Cat’s Eyes], there were a multitude of spells that did similar things in different ways. The trick was knowing when to use which.

  “All done, Sir?”

  “I’ve told you that you don’t have to call me sir, especially when we’re alone.”

  “Force of habit, Sir. Besides, calling you Elliott would be weird. If you need reminding, you are old enough to be my grandfather.”

  Elliott sighed. “No, Isabel, I don’t need to be reminded. Yes, it’s done, to answer your question.”

  “And I assume the authorities will know Micah didn’t murder him?” Isabel said with a hint of a smile.

  “You know, sometimes I think you have no faith in me.”

  “Of course I have faith in you, Sir. I have absolute faith in your ability to draw attention to yourself.”

  “Well, you needn’t worry. I made sure of it.”

  “Of drawing attention to yourself?” Isabel said with a playful smile. She knew him too well. Still, it would take the Bizaynians a while to figure out exactly what was going on and it wasn’t as if it would help them to know.

  “Why don’t we just get rid of them all now, Sir? We could take this town as a base for ourselves.”

  “I’m considering it but the time isn’t right. If we took it now, we’d be in constant battle with the rest of the Bizaynian forces. We’d have no time for other things. I have something in mind, but we’ll wait until we’ve found the one who summoned us.”

  “As you say, Sir. Back to the camp?”

  “Not yet,” Elliott replied. “First, we need to make a visit. There’s something to the southeast of the town that Taalan lied to me about. Let’s go see what it is.”

  He held out his hand, Isabel taking it without being asked.

  [Sanctuary of the Wind]

  [Sentinel Blockade]

  [Nullify Motion]

  [Fly]

  He flew them both a few hundred metres above the town. It sprawled beneath them, mainly in darkness though there were sporadic spots of light, especially at the town square. To its northwestern edge, he could see the lights of the military camps holding the ten thousand or so men stationed there. He turned around, the mountain ranges at his back and to the left, and scanned the southern end of the town.

  Whatever lay in the southeast, the town had to have a way to get there and he found what he was looking for. A road winding south through the countryside. He accelerated them both to a reasonable speed, and followed the road from a few hundred metres above, covering two or three miles a minute. The map back in the tent wasn’t to scale, but at this height and speed, whatever Taalan was hiding would reveal itself soon enough.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Keep an eye out,” he said to Isabel. “There should be some sort of military camp so there’ll be light.”

  They followed the road, trees guarding its edges, and beyond them, gently rolling fields stretching into the distance. As they got further out from the town, small settlements began to appear – hamlets huddled between the hills that couldn’t have held more than thirty or forty people. They definitely held none now. Shells of homes remained, thatched roofs having collapsed amidst blackened timber and broken stone walls.

  “May I ask you a question, Sir?”

  “It’s got to be serious if you’re asking for my permission!”

  “I just wondered what your plans are for the girl?”

  “You mean Rose?” He continued scanning the landscape to the sides for any signs.

  “Yes. Why are you keeping her with us? The barrier has been bypassed.”

  “You think I should let her go?” he said, as he glanced at Isabel.

  “I have no inclination either way, but I know you wouldn’t keep her around without a reason.”

  He didn’t answer immediately as he turned his gaze back to the fields, though it was Rose’s blue eyes that came to mind. They were almost identical to her great-grandfather’s – Arthur Reese. He had been a great adventurer back in the day. More than that, he had been Elliott’s friend. A man born to a noble family who had befriended an orphan.

  Arthur was like that. He’d always say “Status was a birthright. Character was made. And I like characters!”

  “I’m going to help her get stronger,” Elliott finally replied. “We needed her to get stronger anyway. I don’t see a reason to change that. Besides, we did orphan her.”

  Isabel frowned. “That was her parent’s doing. We don’t owe her for that.”

  A whisper of light caught his attention in the distance, towards the forest and the mountain range to the east.

  “I thought you’d be happy with another project,” Elliott said.

  “Are you becoming sentimental like me, Sir?”

  He laughed as he changed course and headed in the direction of that faint light, burnt out settlements passing beneath them. “Not sentimental enough to let anything get in the way of my goals. But I do owe an old friend.”

  “She presents a threat. She may not give up her desire to see you dead.”

  “I’m counting on it. It’ll give her the strength to reach her potential.”

  “And what happens if she reaches that potential?”

  Elliott met Isabel’s eyes with a smile. “Then maybe I’d finally have a challenge. Or a powerful ally. We’ll see how it goes.”

  Isabel didn’t press further. She’d made her point. She knew what he wanted. It was good enough for her, though he had no doubt she would keep a keen eye on Rose. It was endearing. He had no need for her protection but he was going to have it anyway.

  The faint light in the distance grew stronger as they approached, and he slowed down, feeling a strong current of mana ahead.

  [Detect Magic]

  Several miles from the edge of the forest, he stopped their flight in front of the transparent dome that had revealed itself through his spell. He descended slightly, wanting a better view but maintaining their position in the air. At the base of the dome, he could see the glowing circular sigils that formed the barrier. He studied the markings, the intricate swirls and patterns that dictated the nature of the wall. A dual-layered ward to deflect both magic and flesh, designed to keep everything out. He could undo it, once he found where the pattern was started. Or he could just outright break it.

  But that wasn’t his objective right now.

  Within the dome, hundreds of campfires were scattered in a circle around an imposing structure that stood in the centre and dwarfed the tents and the soldiers that surrounded it. Fluted marble columns as thick as houses formed a rectangular colonnade, topped with an entablature of defaced friezes, the marble chipped and broken. Atop it all sat a large barrel-vaulted roof, though it was crumbling in one corner, as if it had been struck by a boulder.

  Elliott circled around the perimeter of the barrier, wanting to view the temple from its front. As they swept past the camps, he noticed the banners fluttering above the tents or flags planted into the ground between them. For every Bizaynian cross and star, there was an equal number of flags in a different style. Elliott’s eyes narrowed. White banners with a red circle. And within the circle, a red pentagram. A pentagram not unlike the scar carved into his forehead.

  He recalled that day after his death, when he had woken up alone in the hospital, his throat [Healed] back together, the cuts and bruises across his body no longer there. The only reminder of his death had been the pentagram. The nurse had called it luck that a healer found him when they had.

  “You see that, Isabel?” he whispered, pointing at one of the pentagram banners.

  “Yes. What does it mean?”

  “Maybe the answers we’ve been looking for.”

  “Why would that symbol appear here though, Sir? They couldn’t be in contact with Earth.”

  “But the one that approached Earth could be in contact with them.”

  They continued past until the entrance of the building came into view, half as many columns on this side as there had been on the other. The largest tents from the camp were positioned here with the highest concentration of soldiers gathered around campfires nearby. Wide marble stairs led up to the building, soldiers flanking the edges of the stairs all the way to the top. There, where he might have expected large bronze doors or something equally as elegant, instead stood a doorway filled with a kaleidoscope of rainbow colours. The colours were unmoving at the edges but swirled inward, spiralling towards a point at the centre of the doorway around which the colours danced.

  “A dungeon,” Elliott smiled.

  “It looks like a real one,” Isabel said, a hint of wonder in her voice. There hadn’t been a real dungeon on Earth in over fifty years.

  It made sense. The dungeons he had cleared were vast affairs, far too big to be contained within the small space of the building they appeared in. The only way they could work is if the dungeon existed within another dimension and that wasn’t a possibility with the barrier around Earth.

  “Why do you think Taalan lied about this?” Isabel asked.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because we’ll find who we’re looking for in there.”

  “The summoner?”

  “I think so. Taalan probably wanted to guarantee I took his people to safety first, before taking us there. Unless he thought I might pop off to complete the dungeon anyway.”

  Isabel cocked her head at him, a smile on her lips. “He might not be wrong?”

  Elliott laughed. “He might not be, but I don’t leave a job unfinished. Especially not one that you’ve asked of me. Let’s get the Rhianians to safety first. And I can confirm with Taalan about why he lied.”

  He turned them around, flying them away from the temple towards the forest. Once he cleared the first couple of rows of trees, he descended to the forest floor. From where they were, he was able to see the faint light from the camp several miles away. He dropped a [Portal Node] to make it easier to return in the morning.

  Ever since the day he’d died, he’d been seeking answers. Why was he killed? Who wanted him dead? Who had saved him? He’d never found those answers on Earth.

  Maybe he’d find them here.