One hundred and forty-four hours before Ronan stepped through the doorway, Iskander and his companions materialized within the black sphere. The white gateway remained open, its circle of light clinging to a large rock behind them. Cael, Astrid, Tamsin, and the Grave Walker, weary from their trek through the Firefield, were instantly captivated by the breathtaking vista before them.
They found themselves in a paradise unlike anything they had ever seen on Erathos. Lush greenery, diverse and vibrant, carpeted the landscape, dotted with the remnants of an ancient civilization.
Floating islands, massive and majestic, soared through the clear blue sky, adorned with cities that defied gravity. Eight moons, impossibly large and close, orbited this alien world, while eight suns, arranged in a celestial circle, bathed the land in their warm glow.
"Are we dead?" Astrid gasped, her eyes wide with wonder.
"Perhaps," Tamsin murmured, equally mesmerized.
Cael's eyes, now a vibrant green, turned to his mentor. "Is this real?"
"It is," Iskander confirmed, a hint of pride in his voice. "Welcome to the Old Garden."
"Unbelievable! How can such a place exist inside that small dome?" Astrid exclaimed, her gaze sweeping across the sky. "And eight suns!"
"We put them there," Iskander replied matter-of-factly. "Nothing is impossible for a god."
"How can this even be?" Tamsin questioned, her eyes glued to the heavens.
"You wouldn't understand," Iskander dismissed. "Let's just say you are not in Erathos, yet you are."
"After meeting you, I'll believe anything," Tamsin conceded, turning back to the mesmerizing landscape.
"This place is huge!" the Grave-Walker exclaimed.
"What do you think, Cael?" Iskander asked, seeking his protégé's approval. "Isn't it beautiful?"
Cael, his left eye brown and his right an emerald green, finally tore his gaze away from the spectacle. "It's amazing," he breathed. "I never expected something like this to exist."
"You have no idea what's to come," Iskander promised, a cryptic smile playing on his lips.
"What now?" Astrid inquired, eager to know their next move.
"We head for the Pantheon," Iskander declared, pointing eastward. "To Elysium."
Following his gesture, Cael and the others beheld another marvel – a colossal, black pyramid, miles high, its faces gleaming under the suns. The pyramid dominated the center of a sprawling city, dwarfing even Meridium in its scale. Four enormous, spherical white rocks hovered above it, positioned like celestial guardians.
Cael, his eyes now a determined blue, broke free from the collective awe. "We came here to open the VeinGate," he reminded Iskander. "Shouldn't I do it now?"
"No one wants this to end more than I do," Iskander assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But we didn't come here just to be here. We have a destination."
"Yeah," Cael conceded, his impatience tempered by trust in his mentor.
"Good," Iskander said. "First, you need rest and sustenance. I don't want you perishing on me at the final step."
With renewed purpose, the group set about gathering food and exploring their surroundings. Cael, ever inquisitive, marveled at the ruins scattered throughout the landscape, his eyes tracing the strange symbols etched upon their walls. He yearned to decipher their secrets, to understand the history of this enigmatic place.
As they feasted and celebrated their arrival, Astrid voiced a question that had been nagging at her. "I see eight suns, but where is Sun-Serpent?"
"He's not here," Iskander explained. "This is another planet, in another sector, within this sphere."
"I'll never understand what you're talking about," Astrid chuckled, shaking her head in amusement.
"We're close to bringing my brother and the others back, right?" Tamsin asked, her eyes shining with hope.
Iskander offered a reassuring smile and a nod, bringing tears of joy to her eyes. Even Cael, his eyes turning a soft blue, could not contain his anticipation.
After a restful night, they set off towards Pantheon. Cael's curiosity burned bright. "What's so special about this Pantheon?" he asked Iskander.
"To open a VeinGate, I need two things: Release and the Anima, which you will provide," Iskander explained. "You need to understand how the Anima works before you can drain the Dragon. That's why we're going to the Hall."
"Is that what you meant when you said I would become like you?" Cael asked, his eyes shifting to yellow.
"Yes," Iskander confirmed. "You need to Apotheosis."
"But I don't see Sun-Serpent here. How can I drain him?"
"I'm aware of that," Iskander replied. "Once you Apotheosis, we return to Erathos to complete the mission. You will exploit your link with the Dragon and drain his Anima. Then, I will drain some from you to open the VeinGate."
Cael nodded slowly, his mind churning with a mix of excitement and apprehension. As they journeyed through the breathtaking landscape, he could not help but question his decision to follow Iskander. He wondered if the rewards outweighed the risks, if the power he sought would ultimately lead to his destruction.
Two and a half days later, they reached the colossal city, its grandeur surpassing anything they could have imagined. The spherical rocks hovered above as they walked towards the black pyramid, its shadow casting a long, ominous darkness over the city. Cael was overwhelmed by its sheer size and flawless construction. Like the black sphere, the pyramid was smooth and reflective, its surface unbroken except for the massive gate that served as its entrance.
Upon reaching the gate, Iskander's excitement was palpable. "Soon," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Finally," Astrid sighed, relief and excitement washing over her.
They followed Iskander through the enormous gate, entering a hall as vast and impressive as the exterior. Its black floor and walls were illuminated by eight giant spheres of white light, floating near the ceiling like miniature suns. The group marveled at the hundreds of sculptures lining their path, each depicting a different individual in a pose of power and grace.
They reached the midpoint of the hall, where a throne room awaited. A large fountain, crafted from black crystal, stood before a set of stairs leading up to eight black stone thrones arranged in a semicircle.
"Cael," Iskander announced, his voice filled with a sense of culmination. "This is the Fount of Wisdom. With this, I can make you Apotheosis." He tossed Cael the bracelet they had retrieved from the giant forest. "Put it on."
Cael caught the bracelet and slipped it onto his right wrist, a jolt of coldness coursing through his arm. Iskander then approached the fountain and sliced his wrist with his fingernails. His blood dripped into the crystal-clear water, the wound vanishing moments later.
"Drink the water," he instructed Cael, his gaze unwavering.
"But your blood is in it!" Cael hesitated.
"Do you know how I know what others know?" Iskander asked rhetorically. "It's their time that tells me everything. I read the time of those whose blood I sample. I own their being, their knowledge, and their emotions."
"I knew about that," Cael admitted.
"What you don't know is that when you consume my blood, mixed with the water of this well, you will change," Iskander explained. "This is how you Apotheosis."
Cael's eyes flickered through a kaleidoscope of colors as he removed his glasses and approached the Fount of Wisdom. He took a sip, the coldness from the bracelet intensifying. Visions flooded his mind – images from his dreams of Sun-Serpent, a surge of power followed by an overwhelming weakness. He saw through Iskander's eyes, witnessing memories of the Immortal King in a different time, surrounded by unfamiliar faces. Then, darkness engulfed him.
Astrid and Tamsin rushed to his side as he collapsed. The Grave-Walker remained motionless, a silent observer. Tamsin checked Cael's pulse. "His heart stopped! He's dead!" she cried.
"Iskander, what have you done?" Astrid screamed, horror twisting her features.
"Calm down," Iskander soothed. "He's not dead. He is changing. This is part of the process. He will survive. We must trust him and wait."
An hour passed. Tamsin, her hand on Cael's wrist, felt a faint flutter, then a steady beat. His body warmed, his skin regaining its color. Slowly, he opened his eyes, now glowing with all eight colors, like a living opal.
"Cael!" Tamsin cried, relief flooding her face. "How do you feel!"
"Alive," Cael whispered, his voice weak but filled with wonder.
"Rest," Iskander instructed, removing the bracelet from Cael's wrist and placing it on his own. "We stay here until you regain your strength."
They settled into a temporary camp, watching over Cael as he slowly recovered. Suddenly, Iskander, who had been sitting on the stairs, stood up abruptly, sensing a powerful presence entering the space.
He raised his left hand, drawing towards him black, dust-like particles that shimmered in the air. For the first time in eons, Iskander began absorbing energy once more.
With a swift gesture, he tore open the fabric of space, creating a vertical rift of white light. Then, with another movement, he formed a second rift, this one pitch black, intersecting the first to form a cross. A strange, black light emanated from Iskander, engulfing the hall in darkness as he continued to draw power from the white rift.