The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 1023: Spatial Rift

Emlica watched expressionlessly throughout my entire protest, finally rolling her eyes as I finished. "Silly girl, I’m the one who told you not to teleport anymore. Do you really think I would give this to you lightly?"

My lips parted, but no sound came out. She let out a long sigh, rubbing her head.

"I suppose I shouldn’t judge you too harshly. That incident was as close to calamity as you’ve come before, so it’s no surprise you’re a little traumatized. Just try not to be so dramatic about it, alright?"

My mouth clicked shut. I nodded, gripping my skirt tightly with both hands, afraid to speak. She was prickly enough that I didn’t need to give her another reason to berate me. If only Gathrin or even Rivlitt knew magic as well as she did. Then I wouldn’t have to bother with this grouchy librarian at all. I didn’t know what Sari liked about her so much.

"Spatial Rift is a relatively weak spell of the space attribute, closely related to fate," Emlica said, tapping the cover. "I figured you could handle it, given its structural similarities with the Final Star’s ’Call of the Stars’ ability.

She waved her hand, and an illusion manifested over the table between us, portraying the familiar shattered landscape of Haven’s skies. It was a three-dimensional rendering of the central archipelagos, fading off as it neared the fringes of the realm, complete with little remnants buzzing around like insects.

"Hold on, Call of the Stars?" I asked, tilting my head.

She looked at me flatly, letting out an impatient huff. "Yes, the first ability of the Final Star, your divine artifact. Surely you knew that much?"

I shook my head, and she let out an impatient huff.

"Call of the Stars allows you to open a gate to those whose fate is entwined with your own. You shouldn’t have been able to access it before the ninth level, but your unprecedented situation allowed you to use a limited amount of its power. Like calling your demons or opening a gate to this realm."

"I...I had no idea."

"Yes, well, now you do. The point is, I modeled Temporal Gate after that ability, so you should be able to use it safely. It works something like this." Emlica pointed to the map, at the island containing the Library of Fate. A small rift appeared before the main entrance. At the same time, an identical gate opened before the city, some mile away in actual distance.

"Unlike traditional teleportation," she said, gesturing at the gates, "a gate functions like a doorway, without regard to the distance or time between its openings. There’s no cessation of consciousness or dissolution of physical form. It’s like space itself is folding in one step."

The map distorted as she spoke, demonstrating the very principle. Haven twisted in an impossible way, folding together like origami, until the two gates overlapped and became one. A small mote of light appeared on the library side of the now singular gate and passed through it. Then, the map unfolded, the mote carried across the realm as it smoothed, positioned outside the city.

"Is that why it’s not dangerous to me?" I asked, my eyes wide as I leaned in, my aura momentarily forgotten. My fingers hovered over the illusory map, tracing the path the mote of light had taken. "Because I’m not dissolving and reappearing, but...stepping through a doorway?" The thought sent a shiver of thrill down my spine, causing my tail to swish audibly through the air.

Emlica settled back in her chair with a pleased smile. "I tailored this spell specifically for your circumstances. Not an easy task, I assure you, so it’s good you appreciate it."

I looked up, startled. "You made this spell? LIke...now?"

"Over the past few weeks, in between my study of the Soul Binder and tutoring the little foxkin. But don’t think of that now; you’ve much work to do. Spatial Rift was based on a ninth-level spell, and even if I managed to reduce it to eighth, its complexity is beyond anything you’ve cast before." She rose from her seat, and the illusion disappeared. She gestured at the book and for me to follow. "Bring that here."

I snatched the tome, noting for the first time the softness of the leather binding and the crisp, white pages within. Untouched by time.

She led me outside to the open courtyard of the library. The gently sloping mountains provided walls on three sides, and the library itself was built into them. The sky overhead glowed, the stars bright and cheerful. Welcoming me. I hugged the book to my chest, a genuine smile warming my face.

"This will do," Emlica said, surveying the courtyard, ensuring no other remnants were nearby. "Begin."

I stared at her, open-mouthed. "Here? Now? But I haven’t even read it!"

She rolled her eyes. "I’m aware. I just gave it to you, remember? Now, open to the first page and begin casting."

"but I...I don’t...that’s not..."

Her eyes narrowed. "Did you think you could break through by cozying up in a chair like you were reading some kind of romance? If you wish to be a ninth-level mage, you must learn how to cast as a ninth-level mage does. A real ninth-level mage, not those cheapskates you have on the mortal realms. And that means you must learn to cast by sight."

"But...I’ll mess up. The backlash will be dangerous," I protested.

"That’s the point. Real growth only happens under pressure. But, more importantly, this hones your ability to recognize spells as they’re being cast, even if you’ve never seen them before. On the battlefield, knowing the scope, attributes, and timings of a spell before it’s finished can mean the difference between victory and defeat. For once a spell has finished, it’s often too late to react. Remember the Inquisitor’s Interdiction? How nice it would have been to know its effects before he cast it, to prepare a countermeasure or use a spell to interfere with the casting altogether. Now, are you going to start, or do you need me to read you the runes, too?"

I flinched, looking down at the book in my hands. With a hesitant breath, I opened to the first page. It was nothing like the spellbooks I’d studied this far, unlike even the ninth-level tome Elaine had given me. It was the spell, pure and simple. No notes, explanations, or headers. Just runes, expressed so simply and gracefully, I could only stare, mesmerized by the beautiful patterns.

Emlica cleared her throat, and I let out a squeak, jumping and very nearly dropping the book. Recovering myself, I mustered my mana, and I began to cast, following the spell as written in the book. It flowed far better than I could have hoped, and even more intuitively. There were no chants to confuse me, no inefficiencies that left me questioning whether I was reading the spell wrong, or whether it was actually poorly written. Emlica watched silently, her arms folded, her lip slowly curving into a small, satisfied smile as I progressed.

I fell into a state of complete concentration, all time forgotten as I puzzled out rune after rune, circle after circle. They floated in the air around me, draining as much mana as the double array of Celestial Grace had. But the draw wasn’t unpleasant, more like stretching after a long nap than the burning strain of exertion.

As I arrived at the fourth circle and prepared to dive into the fifth, Emlica suddenly clapped, shattering my concentration. The circles collapsed, and my mana went berserk. I panicked as I felt it begin to turn against me, and braced myself for the pain of the backlash, but Emlica waved her hand, and a foreign power filled the courtyard. It lasted but a moment, scouring the courtyard like desert winds. My mana evaporated within it, vanishing without so much as burning me.

"That’s enough," Emlica said.

I held my tail, my lip quivering. "Did I...do something wrong?"

"No, you were simply enjoying it too much." She chuckled, but I couldn’t muster the mirth to join her. "I was joking," she said, eyes narrowing. "You can lighten up."

I nodded, forcing a small smile. "Um, thank you for helping. With the backlash, I mean."

She waved her hand. "It’s the least I can do. Now, the reason I stopped you was that at that point in the spell, you are required to set a departure and arrival position for the gate. It’s the most difficult part, unrelated to the construction of the circles themselves. The arrival point is easier, as you will typically choose somewhere in sight. Imbue the memory into the runes here, and here," she said, pointing over my shoulder at a few lines in the book. She turned a few pages, then gestured to a thick block of runes. "This is where you’ll encode the destination. You’ll only know if it works when the spell actually forms, as impressing memories of a place you’re not looking at is extraordinarily difficult."

"Which rune stands for what?" I asked, studying the block.

She shook her head. "Nothing. These runes individually mean nothing. Instead, they work a sort of array to channel your memory and manifest it. The visualization in your mind is everything, and must be close enough to reality for the spell to recognize. If things have changed too much from your last visit to the place, it will fail. You have an advantage here," she said, tapping my temple from behind. "Use the Oracle of Eternity to memorize locations you wish to travel to. Sometimes, fate gives you a symbolic interpretation of the environment, which is of no help, but more often than not, it’s accurate."

She waited for me to nod before stepping back and folding her arms once more. "If you understand that, then begin again. Try to reach the sixth circle this time."

I took a deep breath and flipped back to the first page. There was no use pointing out she was the reason I’d only made it to fourth. I was far more interested in trying the spell again. When was the last time I had a chance to really throw myself into a spell? I wasn’t going to let it go to waste. Not when I was finally having fun again.