Gatekeeper: The Shattered Realm, #3

By Oskar Soderberg

As the god Wyndemir's assault grinds to a temporary halt, Sarien must embark on a quest to find his enigmatic, long-lost mother—Anja, one of the legendary heroes and a formidable Gatekeeper. Can she unlock the secrets of Sarien's burgeoning gray flame, and pave the way to vanquishing the monstrous invaders plaguing Maydian?

Meanwhile, the fallen and imprisoned deities of Maydian might be the key in this worlds-spanning web of intrigue, but their roles are shrouded in mystery. It falls upon Tomford, aided by Emeryn, to seek out the one god who still stands—Taera, the goddess of earth—and bring an end to her ominous reign. In the impending battle, they'll require every ounce of assistance they can muster.

Yet, as the wayfaring paths between worlds spiral into chaos, these new heroes remain oblivious to the dire situation beyond their realm's borders. The very fabric of existence teeters on the brink of collapse, worlds rending themselves asunder. Unless someone intervenes, all could be lost. Is our broken pyromancer equal to the daunting task that lies ahead

• Language: English
• Publisher: Oskar Soderberg
• Release date: Apr 7, 2024
• ISBN: 9789198826197

Book preview

ONE

SARIEN

The two were one, white and black now gray and churning furiously. The power residing inside him was devastating, but it was not enough. Even drawing in every scrap of power from the rhinn travelers and the priests of Wyndemir, it was not enough to destroy the invading god.

Restraining it and hindering its attempts at gaining access into Maydian proved difficult enough. Moreso now that he no longer wielded the authority of hundreds in the palm of his hand.

How are you holding up? Goslin asked.

Sarien blanked his expression. Fine. I’m fine.

You don’t look it, friend.

I’m managing, Sarien replied, wiping a trickle of sweat away from the side of his face with the sleeve of his new coat of spun gray wool. They walked past a part of the collapsed wall. They were met with a vista of the destruction of Fyrie below. The raging fires that scorched all in its path were only now being extinguished under the guidance of allied pyromancers, hydromancers, and able-bodied men and women. Sarien watched as buckets filled with water from the river were passed down a long unbroken chain of soot-covered folk.

The monstrous horde fled a full day ago.

Goslin stopped, placing a hand on Sarien’s shoulder. Tell me if there’s anything I can do.

You’ve done plenty. Without you, I’d be gone. Overwhelmed by the gray.

Goslin squeezed, then let go and continued down the corridor. Men and women scurried around them. The whole keep buzzed with activity, with everyone busily doing their part to restore the city to its former glory.

They fell into silence as they walked, and Sarien went back to devoting his full attention to the task that kept him up around the clock. The Eldians and all their allies might have won the day, but that did not mean Wyndemir had been stopped entirely. The god’s arm hung from an opening in the sky, a giant hand limp against the earth. A will greater than anything Sarien could comprehend still pushed against the fabric connecting all worlds. The wayfaring. If Sarien’s control slipped, that would be it. The gray flame churned inside him in a constant, raging swirl, but he endured.

Soon, he would be free of this burden. Soon, he would be able to sleep, to breathe.

You’re leaving again, aren’t you?

Sarien was unable to meet his friend’s steadfast gaze. It’s the only way.

Are you sure? Goslin asked. The enemy is amassing nearby. Another attack is imminent. We could use your new power in the fight. Everyone saw what you did to the army of monsters outside the walls.

People stared as he passed by, a mixture of fear and awe. The attention made him uncomfortable, and he tugged at his collar. A sheen of sweat formed as he passed more wide-eyed stares, and he undid the top button of his tunic, seeking relief. None came.

If I don’t leave and find out the cause of all this, Wyndemir will whittle us down to nothing.

Goslin nodded. Sarien knew that his friend understood his reasoning. They’d spoken at length about it the night before. I just wish you didn’t have to leave my side again so soon.

You and me both, Sarien agreed, as they strode into a room.

Despite the lack of furniture, the room they entered was cramped. Everyone from their group sat on the floor, their backs against the walls, and their legs splayed out before them.

Not the grandest of locations for a meeting such as this, is it? Goslin asked, the somber look in his eyes betraying the forced mirth in his tone.

They’re sending a message to you, former lordling, Kax said. The nobility is no longer important enough to warrant proper accommodations.

Goslin lowered himself down to sit next to Emeryn. He took her hand in his.

Sarien plopped down on the floor beside Tomford.

Goslin, how did it go with Landé? Emeryn asked.

The leader of the rebellion and the newly formed Eldian allied forces weren’t present.

A shadow passed over Goslin’s face. The allied forces denied my petition. Former lords will not be allowed to present themselves as candidates in the upcoming elections. The interim council told me we’ve had our time.

Emeryn tucked a strand of long, fiery hair behind her ear. I’m sure they will come to their senses soon enough.

At least you can make sure no more monsters enter Fyrie, Lana said. She sat hunched down in the corner, picking at her nails with a dagger conjured out of white light.

It is good to see you all, Tomford said, but there are those still suffering and could use a healer. Why did you call us here, Goslin?

Silence fell as they recalled that not all of them were gathered. They’d lost two members from their original party. Hart, who was the first to fall, when he was killed by the bloodthirsty mimic beast. Now, Heylien.

No one was sure what he’d been doing on top of the city wall, but he’d been found with the life gone from his piercing eyes, his bow still clutched in his burned hands. The funeral had been a small and quiet affair.

Goslin cleared his throat. Actually, I didn’t call you here. It was Sarien.

All eyes turned to Sarien, who felt heat rising in his face. Forcefully pushing the awkwardness down, he began, We need to decide what our next steps will be.

Wyndemir, Tomford said matter-of-factly.

Yes, Sarien said. But not just Wyndemir. This encompasses more than him. Something is wrong out there. He waved a hand around his head.

You’re not speaking of Fyrie, or even Maydian, are you? Emeryn asked.

No. They understood. I need to leave again, but I don’t want to go alone this time.

Myn and Emiril aren’t here, Lana grunted. Will you be taking them?

No. I’ve already talked to them, and they have their own tasks in Maydian. Freyn too. It took some doing, but I’ve brought her back here from Havet.

Out with it then, Kax said. His form was no longer that of a dark void, but he’d not spoken of how or why he’d returned to his old self.

Goslin nodded encouragingly. Just tell us what you need.

Sarien looked at each of them in turn, then said, Kax, I’ll need you with me.

Goslin’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

I’m going to need a few of you to travel to the dark continent and find the other imprisoned gods, and Taera.

I’ll go, Emeryn said, without hesitation.

Sarien nodded. You’ll go, along with Tomford.

Lana glanced up from her white dagger. What about me?

You’ll stay here. I need someone I can trust to keep the rhinn travelers safe. They’ll be taking over the task of holding Wyndemir in my place.

Are they really up to the task? Goslin asked.

They’ll have to be. We don’t have a choice.

Sarien watched as Goslin tightened his hold on Emeryn’s hand. I’ll need to stay here too, won’t I?

There are monsters on Fyrie’s doorstep, as well as a giant arm dangling out of the sky. Someone needs to keep an eye on that now that Landé is busying himself with the election.

The group spoke for a little while longer. Time was running out, and they all had their tasks set before them. Sarien explained what little he knew of the other gods’ prisons and shared his even smaller kernel of knowledge on how to deal with Taera.

With the incredible pressure on the wayfaring, Sarien couldn’t send them directly to their destinations via a gateway. Wade promised to see Emeryn and Tomford across the sea. Sarien hoped that Emeryn would be able to find Taera once they’d set foot on the dark continent.

Sarien couldn’t explain it, not even to himself, why they would need the other gods. His intuition told him that they did. Their plans were bound together with hope and wild speculation. It was the best they could do.

The biggest unknown of them all was the journey he would undertake. His parents were connected to this somehow. His father had lit the signal. The construct still glowed in his pocket.

Ein needed his help.

Their entire future hinged upon what happened next. Sarien stood observing hundreds of rhinn travelers, both men and women, sitting tightly in neat rows. All eyes were on him as he spoke. The rhinn passed his words along to those behind them until everyone received his instructions.

When I pass the burden to you, it will come as a shock. Spread it out evenly amongst all of you. Without your help, everything will have been in vain. Please stay vigilant and keep together. All those anxious eyes knew what was about to happen. Why they trusted him, Sarien had no clue, but he saw it in their faces. They did trust him. The cabal of rhinn leaders, the clergy, and even their own god had betrayed them. Used them. Still, they trusted a stranger.

Sarien would never betray them, but he could not help but use them.

Seize hold of your wayfaring! he shouted and immediately sensed the rhinn before him taking a grasp of their inner powers. He hoped that hundreds of weak, flickering flames would equal his own.

Sarien held his breath as he linked his own power to the rhinn before him. He sensed the weakness of their power, and it disheartened him. He hoped their large numbers would make up the difference. What these rhinn lacked in raw strength, they made up in tenacity.

Anxiously, Sarien eased the burden he’d carried alone the last few days onto the awaiting rhinn. Several fell limp to the ground in the first instant as Wyndemir flexed and tested his strength against his former subjects, but the rest withstood the assault with quiet determination. They needed to hold out until Sarien returned, or all of Maydian was lost.

He watched them carefully, ready to jump back in if they showed a hint of cracking under the strain.

They held on.

Unburdened, Sarien straightened and breathed a sigh of relief. The first step of his plan had worked. He gave the rhinn a nod of appreciation. It was time to leave Maydian, this time of his own free will.

That’s it then, you’re done? Kax asked. He’d been shadowing Sarien since the meeting, ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

I’m done. Everyone knows their part going forward, so there is no use in stalling.

Let’s go see your dad! Excitement shone in Kax’s face. It was good to be able to see him properly again. He hadn’t said much about what happened when Sarien transported him to Ben, only that Sarien’s childhood friend was dead. Ben had been dead a long time, from the very beginning when he’d thought he saved him with his white flame. From that moment on, someone wore Ben’s body like a suit. A horrible mistake by Sarien that Kax helped to correct.

With an image of his father and mother firmly fixed in his mind, and his need to see them at the forefront, Sarien struggled to pull on the wayfaring. Every ounce of power within him quested out into the strange world between worlds.

In the past, the wayfaring allowed him to locate his intended destination. Only this time, it didn’t. The single path diverged into two. His parents were not together.

Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the chilly air. He kept his eyes firmly shut as he concentrated on which path to take.

Ein signaled the need for help. He should find his father first.

Only, down the other path was his mother. He ached to meet her, yet anger blossomed in his chest. How dare she leave Sarien and his father?

Sarien took a tentative step down the path toward his mother, and his mind and power struck a solid invisible wall. No matter what he tried or how much force he mustered, the way was closed to him.

With a sigh, he forced an opening in the wayfaring to his father, Ein the Godslayer. Sarien gritted his teeth and tore an opening in Maydian and connected it to their intended destination. He shoved Kax through and barely stepped past the opening before the gateway crashed in on itself.

Whoever was working against Maydian was incredibly strong. It was not Wyndemir pushing on his bounds, or not him alone. Others helped and Sarien had a sinking feeling he knew who it might be.

Disoriented, Sarien stood in a field of grass stretching as far as he could see in all directions. The sun was high overhead.

One structure stood in the near distance, an enormous building at least twice the size of the keep in Fyrie. The entirety of its exterior looked to be created from flat panes of dark glass. It reminded him of the dense blackness of the void.

A heavy gate stood blown open, one of the doors hanging precariously from its hinges. From all appearances, they’d found their way to a prison. Only, this one could no longer keep anyone, or anything, within its walls.

TWO

GOSLIN

Goslin stood atop the northern wall around Fyrie peering out into the vast, blank darkness that was the ocean. He listened to the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. Somewhere down below, Emeryn would be boarding a small vessel that would carry her, Tomford, and a few others along the edge of the continent and out into open waters to cross toward the dark continent.

The dark continent was a place unknown to most. Unexplored and uninhabited wilds where most did not dare set foot.

She would be fine, he reassured himself. Emeryn could take care of herself and, with Tomford and Wade at her side, his wife would be safe.

Fyrie stood proud, having survived the assault from all manner of beasts, men, and rhinn. Much of the grand city needed to be rebuilt, but it’d need to wait. Many monsters fled into the countryside. This was not over.

Even the city itself was not safe, hence the curfew. Creatures lurked in the shadows, attacking unsuspecting citizens. They would be rooted.

Goslin huffed out an exasperated breath.

So much to do, so little time.

Lana prowled the streets below with Thys. She told him there would be priests of Wyndemir in hiding and she’d made it her mission to exterminate those vermin.

Lord Steerian, they’re ready for you, a voice called out from the stone steps leading down into the keep proper.

Goslin tore his eyes from the darkness beyond the wall and nodded for the blond lad with tired eyes in brown livery to go ahead. I’m no lord, my dear fellow. Eldsprak no longer recognizes such titles. Goslin is fine, just Goslin.

Yes, Lord Steerian.

From the lad’s stiff posture and eloquent speech, along with the precise movements of his hands when he opened the doors before them and guided them along corridors without hesitation, Goslin deduced the young man was a servant at the keep before the attack. Many of the servants remained, having known no other life.

Truth be told, the kingdom of Eldsprak could not function without the whole apparatus already in place. This lad was one small cog, but together with all others, even Fyrie would grind to a halt without their service.

Taking their livery from them and replacing them with what amounted to an equivalent of a potato sack pulled over their heads was not a well thought out decision.

They arrived at the council’s meeting chamber and Goslin was bustled inside without ceremony by two glaring guards flanking the door. Both were part of Landé’s rebel army before it grew into the behemoth that was now the Allied Forces, which consisted of Eldians, Loftians, rhinn, along with many others displaced from their homes.

Most were squeezed into the inner walls of Fyrie, Eldsprak’s capital, though many were camped outside the walls.

Goslin frowned. A problem. Even with spotters patrolling at all hours, no one could predict when the monsters would attack next. They risked losing the poor folk who were forced to reside outside the protective stone walls of the city.

Members of Landé’s council sat around a large round table that dominated the chamber. Though Landé was the unofficial leader of the rebellion, he was among equals in the room and held no more power than the others. The woman who sat beside him was a seamstress, or had been, Goslin mentally corrected, before the attack. She peered, wide-eyed, as expecting to be removed from the room at any moment. The others were of similarly humble origins. Goslin was the only former lord present.

The main issue of each meeting was the upcoming election. If Landé had his way, popular vote would soon elect the official members of the council. Goslin had declared that this wasn’t the time for an election, with monsters still roaming freely in both the city and countryside. His argument fell on deaf ears. The others believed that not holding an election amounted to tyranny, and Landé further stated that the people needed guidance moving forward now more than ever as the world fell into disarray. The interim council could only focus on immediate concerns, such as rebuilding their defenses, while an official ruling council had the ability to focus on the future of the country.

Landé appeared disheveled, his long hair sticking out wildly and his face darkened with the beginnings of a beard. The former rebel leader rubbed at his reddened eyes and turned from an argument with a man who sat opposite him. The other member was a thick set blacksmith with brawny arms who wore a leather apron covered in spark burns.

When Landé caught sight of Goslin, he straightened. Goslin! What have you to report?

Report? Goslin asked, standing at attention before the table. The room was cramped and with the windows firmly shut, the air felt hot and heavy. Flushed cheeks and perspiration on each face of the council members revealed that they also felt the oppressiveness. He hoped this would be a quick affair.

Yes, report. We asked you to assess and suggest where we should focus our repair efforts.

That task never reached my ears, I’m afraid.

Landé’s nostrils flared, and he turned to the terrified looking woman sitting beside him. Did you not send a runner to Goslin with the instructions?

I delegated! The woman’s chin trembled, and she pointed a stubby finger across the table to another woman who was rail thin with black hair streaked with gray. She was finely dressed, though not as fine as a noblewoman.

You did no such thing, the second woman said, her voice high and shrill. Goslin winced.

Did too!

Have the transcript read!

Look, honored members of the council, there is no need for this, Goslin said, afraid this would devolve into another hours-long session where very little was accomplished. I can give you a report right now.

Please, Landé sighed.

The wall, Goslin said simply.

A small bespectacled man banged the table. The wall? Absolutely not! Merchant shops and establishments need to be our focus! With the continued influx of refugees seeking shelter and goods, we must establish a firm avenue for commerce, or the economy will fail.

Landé looked as if he was at wit’s end.

Goslin caught his eye, ignoring the others. I have already told you about Sarien’s plan and what is happening in the world around us. We won the day, but this is far from over. The monsters we defended Fyrie against will return and they will return soon.

You can’t know that, the severe woman said.

More so, the giant arm of a god lays outside our walls. It may be inert now, but for how long?

Goslin saw that he captured their attention and pushed on. This was his moment to convince them. What we need to focus on is repairing the destroyed sections of the wall and find a way to mitigate Wyndemir or drive him off. There are also far too few soldiers guarding the rhinn. They are our most valuable resource. If something happens to them, we’re all lost.

The room fell silent and Goslin was eventually dismissed without any consensus.

Early the next morning, Goslin decided he could not wait for the council to come to its collective senses and went to see the guild master of the geomancers. The woman arrived with Emeryn in time for the assault and was granted a building near the northern wall for the guild’s operations. Nearby homes hosted their members.

The thought of his wife sailing into the old god’s maw made his heart race. She’ll be fine, he repeated. She had to be.

With the sun rising at his back, Goslin made it to his destination just as Myn’s floating lights winked away. Fyrie was rarely full dark even at night. Myn, the girl Sarien brought back with him from his adventures, spent most nights practicing her strange magic. Lights danced in the sky, making clever patterns, whenever she wasn’t focusing on a pale, steady glow to light the way in the darkness. Many found comfort in her lights, for in the night creatures still lurked.

He arrived at the geomancers’ guild hall and drew in a steadying breath before entering.

You want us to patch up the wall? the guild master asked. Yena was a woman about his mother’s age with eyes that burrowed into him and never seemed to blink.

That’s right.

"I’ve been telling them for days now, but we have received no such request from the council. This is sanctioned by the council?"

Goslin considered lying, but swatted the thought away and instead gave her his most winning smile. No.

No, she scoffed, nodding to herself.

What? an old man yelled from the other room.

The young lord here wants us to repair the wall without orders from the mud-headed members of this town’s esteemed council!

Oh! he yelled back. Silence hung between them for a moment, then the old man added. When do we start?

Yena’s eyes glittered when she turned back to Goslin. We’ll get started right away. Can’t have our new home overrun, now can we?

Thank you, Goslin said. I’d also like to talk with you about Wyndemir. I think we’d all sleep a little better if a few geomancers were assigned to the section of the wall closest to him as soon as possible.

Dangerous work.

I won’t disagree, but we’ll all be doing dangerous work by the time your friends are in any real danger. You and your fellow geomancers will be critical in the days and weeks to come.

I’ll see to it, Yena promised.

The geomancers set to begin working that same day. Goslin, along with twelve archers, joined the first group of four assigned to stand watch on the wall in front of Wyndemir’s enormous limb. He introduced himself to the arriving geomancers who looked up at Wyndemir’s arm with wariness. Having them in place loosened the knot in his throat.

One task checked off. Just about a thousand more to go.

A runner ascended the stairs, red in the face and panting so hard that she was bent over double to catch her breath.

Give yourself a moment, he said when she began to heave out the message. There is no use in speed if you cannot deliver your message once you reach your destination.

Goslin kept his tone gentle, not wanting to scold the girl. Large numbers of men and women were recruited into the guard and defenders these last few days and weeks, before and after the attack, but the number of civilians who wanted to lend a helping hand dwarfed them both.

The girl, for she could be no more than twelve years old now that he got a better look at her crimson face, pointed eastward. Something. Approaching.

Monsters?

She nodded and gasped out, Think. So.

Goslin swore and hurried down the stairs. He did not make it far before a voice called him from above.

Lord Steerian!

It was one of the soldiers, a recruit he hadn’t caught the name of yet.

What?

The soldier waved in a panicked gesture. You have to see this.

Goslin ran back up to the battlement and groaned when he saw what all the others were staring at.

Wyndemir’s giant fingers twitched.

THREE

SARIEN

As Sarien and Kax approached the ruined gates of the prison, they came upon bodies in the grass.

They look like Eldians, Kax noted.

Sarien went down on one knee to get a closer look. An emblem stood out in stark darkness next to the otherwise brown and gray colors of the man’s clothes. Round with a pitch-black fist on top of a background of white. Those in Malac look the same as us.

At least they’re not rhinn. Getting tired of dealing with them.

Sarien stood with a groan. The days and nights keeping Wyndemir at bay and using the last bit of his power to open a gate to this new realm had taken a lot out of him. He needed to rest desperately, but it would need to wait.

The gaping darkness beyond the broken doors did not look inviting, but he was certain he’d find his father inside.

Kax slid his hand down the smooth surface of the wall in wonder. It was a flat black, reflecting no light. Let’s see what’s inside.

The enormous scale of the building only settled in Sarien’s mind once they approached. With walls taller than those of Fyrie and Tyralien combined, the gate proved gargantuan. The doors were thicker than Kax was tall. Sarien did not linger on the question of who did the damage. Hopefully, they were long gone.

They stepped through the opening and were immediately swallowed by darkness. Since neither of them thought to bring torches, Sarien brought forth his gray flame. It didn’t give off a light as powerful as his former white power, but it was enough to make out their surroundings.

The floor was as dark as the walls, and no matter how much strength he gave the flame, the ceiling was beyond the reach of its glow. There were no rooms or other corridors, just a vast chamber of nothingness.

No sound. Not even from their footsteps.

What is this place? I’m not going to be much help if there’s no one to cut.

Sarien was too focused on his inner strength to answer. Gray flame coursed through his entire being. With his inner divide gone, Sarien felt complete for the first time since he discovered his powers.

Before his change during his struggle with Wyndemir, he hadn’t thought of himself as incomplete. He hadn’t understood why his black flame and his white struggled to come together. Now he did. They were meant to be one. Always had been.

He knew the truth now but was no closer to figuring out why the Wayfarers and the Slayers were separated into two organizations. Why were they white and black, when gray was the original form? He hoped to find the answers to those questions from his father and, perhaps, more so from his mother.

Now there are stairs out of nowhere.

Sarien held out his hand to see that the floor opened up into a deep and dark chasm with wide steps leading straight down. Without a railing around the sides and nothing to mark the stairs, they were nearly invisible in the dim light.

Sarien took out his father’s device and found that the dim, pulsing light it emitted was an improvement over his gray flame.

He let the gray flame retreat back into the churning swell of power inside him. Let’s descend.

Kax squinted into the darkness surrounding them. No other rooms, but there’s something about this place.

What do you mean?

The walls, the floor, even the air. They’re making me feel all giddy inside.

Tentatively, Sarien reached toward the floor, questing with his mind and a fine strand of his gray flame. If the mere act of being within the building affected his friend, there must be a reason. The flat blackness alone was a clue.

Screams of anguish, the terrible wailing of broken minds trapped in time beyond comprehension, deafened him.

Sarien stumbled back, yelling from equal parts fright and surprise. His scream hung in the air before dissipating into the eerie silence.

People. People are trapped in there. He swallowed repeatedly against the rising bile, but succumbed and emptied his stomach onto the floor.

Kax went down on one knee and put his hand on the floor, careful to keep distance between himself and Sarien’s mess.

Don’t! Sarien yelled, but it was too late.

Kax’s eyes turned into dark orbs. A wide smile spread across his face, and he nodded to himself before rising. All is well. They are serving their sentence.

What do you mean?

Kax blinked, his eye color returning to his original brown. What?

Sarien eyed him closely and then the floor. This whole place is a prison. The prisoners are trapped in the walls and floor, even the doors. I get the sense they’ve been here for a very long time.

And your father is here somewhere?

I think so.

There you have it. What better prison than one where the offenders are confined in a void? Your father’s people must be jailers by trade.

My mother’s writing did mention something about that, about the Slayers trying to contain Eld and the other gods who escaped to Maydian.

That sounds perfectly reasonable to me, Kax said, taking the first step down the stairs into the darkness. Let’s not dwell on those lost in the void. No need to shed tears for the slayed.

Sarien hurried after, not wanting to let Kax out of his sight. Kax walked blindly into the dark, though with confidence, as if he didn’t need Sarien’s weak light. I don’t like the way you’re talking, Kax. You’re not yourself.

A very familiar grin split Kax’s face as he looked over his shoulder at Sarien. Everything changes. Some for the better, some for the worse. Don’t you agree?

I suppose so, Sarien said. He’d need to keep a close eye on Kax. If they could only find Ein, perhaps his father would have the answers to explain what was happening to his friend. Ever since Sarien accidentally connected Kax to the slaying, his friend had changed. It was an honest mistake that continued to have profound consequences. Sarien worried about what was yet to come.

The dim glow from Ein’s device did not brighten or change as they descended the stairs. His hope that it would show them the way diminished with each step into the abyss. Around them, a vast darkness spread in all directions, not unlike Sarien’s experience in the actual void back in Malac.

Eerie place, Kax said, sounding like he was back to his old self.

After a while, something finally changed. When one step didn’t turn into another, Sarien stumbled with surprise.

Kax trailed a little behind and jumped down several steps. His landing didn’t make a sound. Straight ahead, Sarien’s light reflected off something. They hurried toward it.

They encountered a gigantic gate, similar in size to the one that they entered earlier. The obsidian black metal was adorned with a swirling pattern of white and black, which coalesced into a white emblem that Sarien thought represented light. It was the inverse of the emblem found on the dead men outside.

Kax placed a hand on the enormous gate. It stretched high above them. What do you think?

How do we get it open?

Kax shoved hard against the door. The gate didn’t budge.

The emblem, Sarien began, and put his hand against the door. He