by David Yazel
As he walked, the ground crunching underfoot, he probed forward, extending his awareness toward the unnatural fire. Once again he could sense the alieness, the feeling that there was something ahead which did not belong here.
After about twenty minutes of walking through the uneven terrain, Tennison came to the edge of the fire. The wind was fierce. Gusts continuously knocked him around, searing blasts of flame assaulting his now fraying shield. He knew that shortly the shield would fail unless he did something about it.
Dropping to his knees, he extended his staff and inscribed a ragged circle around himself. Where the iron shod base of his staff touched the earth a glowing line of quiet blue flame was left behind.
When the circle was fully drawn, Tennison bowed his head and concentrated, feeding power to the energy matrix now surrounding him. The circle flared straight up from the ground to connect high above his head.
Suddenly there was a shocking silence and the winds ceased to buffet him, leaving him gasping within the protective sphere. Slowly catching his breath, Tennison hauled himself to his feet and looked around.
The pillar of fire hung before him like a living curtain, seeming almost alive as the flames wrapped around each other in an intricate dance, endlessly forming new patterns as eddies of air and heat forced them upward toward the heavens. So close was he to the edge that the fire stretched from left to right as far as he could see and shot up to the clouds.
His mind’s eye, extended toward the fire, encountered a curious resistance, giving a little as he pressed and then springing back into place as he relaxed the pressure of the probe. The more he studied it the more he became convinced that he would have to proceed into the conflagration if he wanted more information about the phenomenon.
Moving to the edge he walked forward until the outer edge of the protective sphere touched the billowing curtain of fire. As he continued forward, he felt the same resistance his probe had encountered. The shield forced the flames back as he walked forward, but they somehow pushed him back with increasing force until it was all he could do to hold his ground.
Straining to maintain the shield’s power levels he steadied himself and raised his staff high. With an explosive grunt, Tennison slammed the butt of his staff on the smoking ground. The area around him shook violently and the ground heaved as he sought to breach the barrier before him.
The psychic tension increased until he was quivering with effort. Right before he thought he had reached the limit of his strength, there was a palatable POP as the barrier gave away and snapped into place behind him.
He found himself surrounded by flames, greedily licking at his artificial barrier. The place he stood seemed alien, as if he had stepped outside of his own reality and entered another. He was buoyant and light, each step he took was bouncy and he felt like he would soar away if he was to jump upward.
Steadying himself he shook his head and concentrated on the task at hand. OK, he was now inside the strange and dangerous pillar of fire, but he couldn’t see beyond the edge of his shield. Progressing blindly forward would be a foolhardy thing to attempt, leaving him open to attack by whatever strange entities inhabited this place.
Closing his eyes, he slid his inner sight smoothly to the astral plane. The view was startlingly bright and chaotic. He could not more make sense of the clashing and conflicting energies than he could the flames which beat at his self-created island of protection. He then tried the planes of Air, Fire, and Water with no more success. Finally he attempted the elusive plane of Essences, concentrating on separating the powerful energies into recognizable groups.
He let out a grunt of exasperation and opened his eyes. The usual avenues of discernment where completely closed to him. He thought for a moment and then rummaged through his satchel, peering at one item and then another until his hand closed on a small case made out of the finest hide and polished to an oily sheen.
He crouched down and sat the case on the ground in front of him before unclasping the two intricate latches which held the case shut. Opening the case revealed a pair of beautifully hand-crafted eye-glasses. The lenses shone with a soft and subdued pearly light, pulsating slowly as if alive.
It had taken many years of research to produce this artifact. Indeed the final Rite of Creation had taken over a month, shut off and undisturbed by anyone or anything as he wove the powerful matrices and subspells necessary. But it had been worth it. For the glasses allowed him to gaze directly on the second quantum level of existence, a level which up to that point had been mere theory. That had been the pivotal turning point in his research, providing a stepping stone which he had used to forge tools which actually manipulate the second level.
He put the spectacles on, carefully adjusting them to fit comfortably. His mind slid neatly into the interface sub-spell and triggered it.
Instantly his vision cleared. Where before he had seen only flames surrounding him, he now saw a desolate landscape stretching onward. Everything looked weird and different and his mind had to take a few seconds to adjust.
Things around him shone with a light of their own. He knew that closer examination would have revealed that all the matter around him consisted of millions of tiny specs of power, each one shining and quivering in its place.
He started walking toward the center of the conflagration, glancing from side to side as he went. Occasionally he would glimpse something out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to face it directly there was nothing there. He had proceeded for about ten minutes when he saw something up ahead. As he drew closer he saw what appeared to be a huge pit, some three hundred feet across.
He came to the edge and stopped, looking down in amazement. It was not a pit so much as a hole in the earth, opening directly above a weird and twisted landscape. It was like he was looking upon the face of another world, from a vantage point of thousands of feet. Indeed, as he watched a cloud drifted in front of him, momentarily obscuring his vision.
He crouched down and ran his hand along the inner edge of the opening. Its was utterly smooth, possessing a slippery quality which caused his hand to slid from it.. He also observed that as his hand dipped below the surface of the earth it became slightly hazy and out of focus.
"Fascinating", he muttered to himself, "Its like a portal into Hell." For indeed the landscape looked like nothing but the fiery descriptions of Hell itself. Huge volcanoes dotted the land and rivers of lava moved their way sluggishly across the reddish, baked earth. He could see nothing even remotely resembling the greenery of vegetation.
He kneeled down and stared intently into the alien sky. Tennison mentally adjusted the magnification on the spectacles until he could make out details on the surface, thousands of feet below. Tiny, moving dots resolved themselves as creatures of some kind, misshapen and monstrous. Suddenly something flashed in front of his vision and he reeled back, momentarily disoriented. His vision snapped back to normal magnification and he looked around widely for what he had saw. He was left with an impression of wings and teeth, but could find no evidence of the disturbing sight.
Tennison found his resolve starting to slip and the beginnings of a fear like he had never felt start to grip him. This was like nothing he had ever experienced or even heard about. It was as if his worst nightmare come to life. He knew without knowing why that this hole had to be closed and quickly.
He rose to his feet and considered what to do. No standard spells came to mind which would apply in this bizarre situation. He considered what he knew. First of all he could assume that this was an opening of some kind into another world entirely.
He wasn’t sure what that meant because he had never considered even in his wildest dreams that there might be other worlds. He rejected the notion that this might actually be Hell. He was a man of the magical sciences and the thought of a God and a Devil warring over souls of humanity was best left to the uneducated. No, this was a manifestation of something real and concrete, albeit unknown and untested.
The curious magical turbulence which prevented him from probing into the column of fire from the outside also interfered with his attempts to contact Braddok or any other senior mage. After a few tries he gave up. Oh well, he was definitely on his own.
Tennison pulled the wand from his belt and started tracing in the air, inscribing a complex set of formulae in glowing green letters. He alternately erased and rewrote portions of the script until he was satisfied and then stepped back.
He planted his staff in front of him and raised his arms. Closing his eyes he took a breath and triggered the spell, trickling power into the framework to test its stability. A pale blue ball materialized in the air in front of him, rotating slowly. The ball dipped and pulsated. He made some adjustments before nodding in satisfaction.
"Come on Tennison, " he muttered to himself, "its now or never." He steadied himself and then with a burst of energy started pouring power into the spell.
With a whine of superheated air the ball streaked toward the rift. It hit the edge of the hole and veered sharply to the right, tracing the edge and mapping the extant in a broad arc. Tennison watched as it dwindled into the distance on the far side and then came back around. The ball past by him in a blur as it made a second circuit. Faster and faster the ball sped until it seemed to be a solid ring of pale blue encircled the rift.
Tennison activated the final portion of the spell, slowly increasing the bandwidth of the power feed so that he could maintain the energy needed.
With an explosive CRACK the stability matrix engaged and Tennison was thrown backward off his feet as the ground beneath him heaved and shuddered. He gasped for breath and staggered to his feet, lurching over to his staff. He had just reached and clasped it firmly before another violent surge wracked the land.
The air trembled with conflicting energies as the spell strove to close the rift. With each successive orbit the sphere pulled the edges in toward the center, slowly reducing the diameter of the pit.
When the hole had shrunk to about twenty feet across, the progress visibly slowed until it stopped altogether. Tennison gritted his teeth and added more power, now dipping heavily into his reserves. If this was to keep up he was not going to have enough to close the portal completely.
The hole closed a few more feet and then stopped again. It was as if something was fighting him, pushing back to keep the portal open. Steeling himself he walked forward and looked down into the hole. The distortion between this world and the other had increased and it made him dizzy to stare into the shimmering vortex.
It was with a shock that he realized that there was something there, caught in the rift like a fly in amber. Involuntarily he stepped back. He remembered the demonic figure that he had seen before within the other world. He gathered his resolve and slid his senses under the surface of the roiling matter and encountered... surprise struck him.
The being held in the morass between worlds was human. Even more interesting was the energy matrix surrounding him. It had the feel of something very familiar, glaringly out of place in this maelstrom of alien energies. In fact, other than some interesting modifications the matrix encasing the figure was that of a standard first order Shield Spell.
A momentary weakness took him, forcibly reminding him that his energy reserves were nearing total depletion. He only had a few minutes left to close the portal or the spell would fail. He could see now that the rift was not pushing back so much as blocked.
The unknown mage’s shield harmonics were clashing with his spell. He had to make a quick decision. He could easily push the other mage into the alien world entirely or he could attempt to pull him back. Even as he considered it he know he could not abandon anyone to that God forsaken hell and prepared to pull the unknown mage out of the rift.
Wrapping his mind around the mage’s shield he yanked with all his might. For a sickening moment nothing happened. Tennison groaned with effort and reached deep inside himself, tapping his life energy for power needed. With a wrench he ripped the mage from the void. The sudden release sent Tennison reeling back and the mage flying through the air to crash limply to the ground some feet away.
With the obstruction removed the hole rapidly shrank until with a final hiss it was gone.
Tennison groaned and rolled over. The pillar of fire which had decimated the countryside was gone, snuffed out like a candle when the rift closed.
He looked around. Everything was blackened and twisted, burned beyond recognition. What was once teaming farmland and vibrant forest was now a smoking pit.
Tennison coughed in the smoke filled air. He turned to look at the unknown mage. He could barely see him through the haze as his eyes started to water intensely.
He got to his feet stiffly and walked over to the figure lying in a jumbled heap several feet away. Kneeling down he turned the him over.
Tennison grimaced. The man was burned almost beyond recognition, hair and clothes seared away in the inferno, skin blistered and raw. The fact that he was still alive was a miracle. Tennison checked his pulse. It was weak and fluttery. He didn’t have much time.
He tried to shape the Far Talking spell in his mind, but in his exhausted state it seemed to keep slipping from him. Finally he got it right and was opening a link to Braddok when without warning something slammed into him from behind.
