Teleportacja snapped the world into shape with a rush of thin, frozen air.
Snow fell in slow spirals, each flake almost geometric unnaturally symmetric.
The three envoys stood on a ridge overlooking endless peaks of white and stone.
The cold was not merely temperature but presence.
A quiet demand to prove one's right to exist here.
One wizard whispered:
"…I can't feel any magic."
Aldric shook his head.
"No.
You can't feel our magic."
He stepped forward boots crunching into snow.
"But his?"
A pause.
"It's everywhere."
THE PATH
They followed a narrow trail carved not by tools, but intention.
Snow here never accumulated.
The wind never erased it.
Magic had shaped the world itself.
As they walked, the mountains changed subtly:
Snow became patterns.
Ice formed symbols.
Stone twisted into lines of logic.
"Runes," whispered the youngest envoy.
"No," Aldric corrected quietly.
"Equations."
The others exchanged uneasy glances.
Magic had always been chaotic, emotional, will-driven.
This?
was designed.
THE SANCTUARY
Hours later, they reached the mouth of a cavern.
No guards. wards or traps.
Just a surface covered in runes so precise they looked printed, not carved.
Aldric stepped forward breath visible in cold air.
"This is a test."
Seraphine frowned.
"How do you know?"
Aldric exhaled.
"Because nothing this perfect is decoration."
The rune surface shimmered reacting to proximity.
Symbols lit one by one, aligning into a phrase not written in any language spoken aloud, but in a pattern the implants could decode:
> ENTER ONLY IF YOU UNDERSTAND.
The youngest envoy frowned.
"Understand what?"
Aldric turned to him.
"…That understanding is not repetition."
The puzzle was not to read but to think.
He extended his hand toward the wall.
Runes rearranged.
A new line formed, glowing faint blue:
> WHAT IS MAGIC?
The youngest envoy whispered:
"A force."
The runes remained unchanged.
Seraphine tried:
"Energy shaped by will."
No response.
Aldric closed his eyes.
Then answered softly:
> "Magic is a language the universe speaks. Not with words, but with rules."
The runes flared gold and the stone wall dissolved into mist.
THE MEETING
Inside, the cavern was vast glowing with floating runes moving like constellations.
In the center sat an elderly man on a stone platform.
Long hair.
Simple robes.
Hands resting calmly on his knees.
His eyes opened.
Sharp.
Measured.
Aware.
Not ancient in weakness ancient in precision.
"You solved the door," he said, voice quiet but resonant.
Aldric bowed slightly.
"We came peacefully."
The old spellwright hummed softly amused.
"Everyone says that."
Seraphine stepped forward.
"We seek knowledge."
His expression sharpened almost predatory.
"That," he said slowly,
"is the first honest sentence spoken here in two hundred years."
THE FIRST TRIAL LOGIC
He raised one hand.
Runes formed into a spinning cube each face shifting with symbols faster than human eyes could register.
"Tell me," he said,
"what do these represent?"
The youngest envoy panicked.
"It's it's too fast."
Aldric placed a hand on his shoulder.
"No.
It only looks fast because you're trying to read it."
He stepped closer.
"It's repeating."
The cube slowed.
"Three symbols.
Rearranged constantly."
The spellwright nodded.
"And what does that mean?"
Aldric inhaled.
"A spell is not words.
It is… formula."
The cube shattered into light harmless but blinding.
When it faded, the old man was smiling.
THE SECOND TRIAL TRUTH
The ground beneath them shifted forming six runes in a circle.
"Stand on the one that represents your belief," he said.
"Not what you were taught."
Each rune represented:
Power
Knowledge
Balance
Control
Freedom
Purpose
Seraphine stepped onto Purpose without hesitation.
The youngest envoy stepped onto Knowledge.
Aldric paused.
Then stepped onto Balance.
The spellwright's gaze sharpened.
"Interesting."
He raised his palm.
Magic surged not spellwork, but structure.
The cavern itself reacted.
"Why balance?" he asked.
Aldric answered without thinking:
"Because power without it becomes tyranny.
Knowledge without it becomes madness."
Silence.
Then the old man whispered:
"…Good."
THE OFFER
Runes dimmed.
The trials ended.
The spellwright stood slow, but steady.
"You are not like the others who came over centuries.
You did not demand.
worship.
beg."
Aldric bowed slightly.
"We asked."
The old man studied them deeply.
Then he nodded once.
> "Then I will ask in return."
The envoys remained silent waiting.
The spellwright's voice lowered heavy with meaning:
> "Why does the one who sent you seek knowledge that transcends mortality?"
The cavern held its breath.
Aldric answered truthfully:
> "Because he intends to build a future where death is optional not inevitable."
The spellwright blinked slowly.
Then smiled a small, knowing, unsettling smile.
"Ah."
He sat back down.
"That explains why the world feels nervous."
A final pause.
Then:
> "Tell him I will speak with him
but only when he stops acting like a machine trying to imitate destiny."
RETURN
Teleportation brought the envoys back to Helios.
Zack was waiting.
Aldric delivered the message:
> "He will speak with you
when you stop acting like certainty…
and start acting like possibility."
Zack processed the words.
For the first time he did not immediately respond.
Then:
> "Interesting."
The world below continued unaware.
But the balance had shifted.
Knowledge was no longer being taken.
It was beginning to answer.