Off in one of the distant reaches of the Twilight Sea, a hooded figure moved swiftly along the pathways leading to Aen Silar.
This place, however, was almost unlike any other in the entirety of the Twilight Sea. No manner of creature would merely happen upon it by accident, nor would there be any likelihood of discovery without prior knowledge of its existence, since the pathways leading to it would eventually meet little more than the outer wall of a mana barrier.
The hooded figure, already privy to this information, slowed himself along the path with tendrils of mana that latched onto either side of it, dragging and clawing at the pathway like an anchor would the sea floor. As the figure came to a halt, he stood there silently, patiently awaiting the guardsmen on the other side of the barrier to recognize him and allow him passage.
With a heavy sigh, he began channeling mana into his hands, forming claws of pure turquoise mana that were ready to tear away at the barrier. However, just before his hands reached it, it began to fold in on itself, as though he were watching an underground tunnel collapse from above.
The prison of Aen Silar came into full view as he looked out from beneath his cowl. A fractured land now lay before him beneath a violent sky, with multiple islands suspended in mid-air, tethered together with Rivet mana as far as the eye could see. Each island held its own tower, the size of which could easily rival that of the colossal Hynafol Arboraneth of Caegwen.
The towers themselves were constructed much like those of Polarion, though much of their elegant design was now covered or distorted by the mana barriers produced by rings that surrounded each one.
But far off in the distance, there was one tower that easily dwarfed the others, shining like a beacon of pure Meridian mana. The figure marveled at the sight for a brief moment before the sound of incoming footsteps off to his left broke him out of his muse.
"A-Apologies, my lord! I-I did not expect any visitors to arrive so soon, as I've only just been notified of your coming," one of the guardsmen said from a short distance with a low bow, then quickly rose and continued to approach the figure.
His pale face nearly matched the color of his armor that held thin sheens of mana surrounding his body, much like Vauv's. The hooded figure, saying nothing, nodded and continued on his way into Aen Silar, ignoring the guardsman completely.
Knowing better than to let an idle thought slip, the guardsman swallowed dryly and quickly resealed the barrier before scuttling behind his silent visitor. "Does it always feel like this?" the hooded figure finally asked after a few moments of walking silently.
Surprised by the sudden question, the guardsman forcibly cleared his throat and shuffled closer so he could walk beside his stoic guest. "Feel like what, my lord?" the guardsman asked skittishly. "Like the entire realm is ready to collapse, or perhaps that I am the one who is nearing collapse," the figure replied, glancing down at his hand momentarily as if he'd temporarily lost feeling in it.
Is my hand trembling out of fear or disgust? I cannot tell, the figure wondered with a sudden, yet hardly noticeable, gasp.
"I hardly notice it myself anymore, but I remember feeling something similar when I was first stationed here, my lord," the guardsman replied much more confidently than he had expected to. "Although I will say that this place is quite unlike any other I have experienced in my lifetime," he continued under his breath.
With another silent nod, they continued onward toward the largest tower in the center of the shattered wasteland. Each island they passed left a lingering, yet inexplicable sense of unease and dread that the hooded figure found difficult to ignore.
I must press on. I cannot allow this feeling to sway my resolve. Not now, at least, he thought, gritting his teeth in an attempt to fight back.
"M-My lord, are you well?" the guardsman asked, noticing his visitor's tightly clenched fist. "Yes, yes. You do not need to worry about me. Simply lead me to where he is being held," the figure said with a cautionary snarl. "A-As you wish," the guardsman replied, moving ahead of the figure to lead the way.
Eventually, they reached their first border, as the guardsman called it, forcing them to use specialized platforms to ride the grossly thick tendrils of mana holding the islands together. As the figure glanced downward, there was little more than a starless void beneath his feet.
"Out of curiosity, what happens if you fall off?" he asked, trying to hide his nervousness. "Unfortunately, my lord, all we know is that this realm was destroyed in a war between forces we still do not fully understand. No one in Polarion knows when or how that happened, since the only thing we know for certain is that our ancestors built this nest of prisons atop the bones of a fallen realm," the guardsman replied, not bothering to look down as he managed the platform's controls.
"I shudder to think of the kind of power needed to break an entire realm, let alone force Polarion to hide its remains in a pocket dimension," the figure said with no small amount of unease. "Well, I promise you, my lord, that anything that comes here isn't leaving without permission," the guardsman chuckled half-heartedly. "What do you mean?" the figure asked.
"If any one of the prisoners managed to escape their bindings, then the towers and they were to try and break through the barrier, they would be forcibly set adrift through time and space. One prison inside of another. It is terrifyingly clever, if you ask me," the guardsman replied with a shrug.
"So they would neither be living nor dead, correct?" the figure asked. "To an extent, I suppose that would be correct, yes. Their bodies would die, but their souls would live on in some strange kind of dreamscape, though I do not know much more than that," he replied, though it prompted the figure to turn and give him a curious look from beneath his cowl. "How do you know that?" he asked, unable to hide his interest.
"There was one who is said to have returned from that realm, though I do not know what became of him. The rumors around here are that he either went mad and hid himself somewhere in the depths of the Twilight Sea, or perhaps became what we here call a Dreamwalker, though nothing has been confirmed as of yet, my lord," the guardsman shrugged, pulling back on the lever that controlled the speed of the platform.
Dreamwalkers? I have never heard of a dreamwalker before. Perhaps they are akin to Realmwalkers? I must investigate this further, the figure thought with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head.
As they stepped off, the figure took one final glance into the void beneath them, feeling a small chill run down his spine. "Well, I pray nothing like that happens to either of us," he said with a low chuckle. "Fear not, no harm will come to you while I am here," the guardsman said, realizing his unlikely companion for the day was much less fearsome than he initially thought.
They continued on through a barren, broken wasteland, circumventing protruding boulders and other such rubble from the war. There were a few remnants of towers strewn across, though half-buried in the sands and dust of time.
"Terwin," a voice a little louder than a whisper said, as if it had been carried through a storm.
This sense of dread and unease is growing the closer I get to the main tower. I wonder if… the figure, Terwin, halted; his thoughts sensing another wave of dread nearly overcoming him.
"Are you well, my lord?" The guardsman asked, his voice tinged with genuine worry, prompting Terwin to turn his head slightly toward the guardsman, revealing part of his scarred face and his glowing, pale eye. "I am. Thank you for your concern," he replied, turning away and resuming his pace.
Damn it, Terwin swore under his breath.