We descended the staircase in silence, which was not unwelcome. After all, it allowed me to extend my senses in all directions as I worked to parse out the magic that lay around us.

  I could sense mind-boggling quantities of mana flowing underneath us. It felt like a chaotic miasma of varying elements drawn under some unseen current. I had detected that attractive force already, but this was at a magnitude far beyond the one present within the town.

  Soon, we reached the bottom of the staircase and stepped into a long hallway. Glowing white lights lined the walls, revealing a simple archway leading into another room that shone with faint, rainbow light. Yorish did not so much as break stride, walking towards that opening and the strange, multi-colored glow coming from beyond it. I paused only a moment before following.

  I stepped into a massive, half-sphere chamber chamber. It was artificial without question, with perfectly rounded walls leading to a towering domed ceiling. I estimated it was a hundred feet from one side to the other and about half as tall.

  The light I had seen from the hallway came not from magical lanterns or enchanted orbs, as I had expected. Instead, hundreds of burning lines covered every bit of the floor, walls, and ceiling in a chaotic, seemingly random pattern. These ranged from thin as a hair to wider than my forearm, and they seemed to burn in every shade imaginable.

  I could sense the mana pulsing through the lines, even at a distance. They felt like ley lines but...different. More controlled, maybe. Somehow, this chamber had guided pure, untamed magical energy, but to what end?

  My eyes finally fell upon the center of the room, where the chaotic lights revealed a circular platform. It rose halfway to the ceiling, with stairs leading up from all sides so that one could approach from any side. Those glowing lines crawled up the stairs, and I followed the natural path up, finally laying my eyes upon the object sitting there.

  It was an anvil, but only in the most generous of senses. Rather than a finely crafted piece of steel, it looked roughly hewn of a matte black material that absorbed the room's light. It appeared several times as large as the non-magical varieties, sizable enough to lay a suit of armor across it without much issue.

  Six burning lines crawled up the sides of the anvil, each searing with a feeling of boundless power. Even one would tear me apart if I attempted to channel its might, and all six felt akin to shifting the world around me.

  How powerful would the Founders have been if they had made something like this? Was it even possible to surpass them?

  Yorish cleared his throat, breaking into my musings, and I turned to face the man.

  "Apologies, honored Keeper. This is all a bit..."

  The man smiled. "It never gets less so. Try to push past it and look closer. What do you see?"

  "Is this a test?"

  "Of course. I was never much of a teacher, but I understand the value of allowing one to solve a problem themselves."

  Fair enough. If this was a test, I would give it my best effort.

  I started with the lines. They looked chaotic in both configuration and color, but I noticed a few things after several minutes of examination.

  First, they appeared thinnest near the edge of the chamber. As they crawled onto the floor and moved towards the raised dais, they seemed to merge and join like rivers converging. This was why there were only six lines when they reached the anvil.

  Six lines and six colors, for that matter.

  I had thought there were a hundred different shades, but that was an illusion as much as their apparent randomness. In truth, there were only six colors in totality. I felt an idea come to mind and focused on one of the lines, a red river that flowed up the anvil's southern face.

  The vermillion line burned in my mind's eye as if I had held my hand over an open flame. It was almost painful, even at a distance, and I pulled my senses away from it with a wince. Then, I forced myself to push on and moved my attention to the next of the six, an azure river that felt like a cool, flowing stream.

  One by one, I sensed the lines and found each familiar. Teal was restless and ever-moving like a spring gale. Yellow was as sturdy and unshakeable as the rock beneath my feet. White felt like resting under a summer's sun, and purple drew me in as if I gazed into a starless night sky.

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  So...six colors, six lines, and six mana variants. It was no coincidence that the chamber used these six, either. Fire, water, wind, and earth were said to meld and fuse to form nearly every other element save three. And this chamber had two of those three.

  In theory, this room had the potential to form any element of mana imaginable, save one.

  I glanced at Keeper Yorish, waiting until he nodded and gestured toward the anvil before I took a few steps closer. When I drew within about thirty feet, he cleared his throat. I drew up short, but that was close enough to get a better look at the object and, more importantly, another strange detail.

  The fire mana line came from the southern end of the chamber, as I had noticed already, but it appeared opposed by the one carrying water mana. A brief circuit around the dais confirmed this was not unique to these two lines. Wind was set against earth and light sat opposite darkness.

  "Ley lines concentrating near the middle. Opposites set against one another. The material of this anvil. It all has a purpose, but what is it?" I muttered, closing my eyes and turning over the problem in my head.

  The first inklings of an idea formed in my mind. It brushed up against older concepts, those of focusing enchantments and circles and that puzzle cube with its linked enchantments. Something about this confirmation, these lines, and this dais must serve a purpose. I could even guess at it. But without more to go off of...

  I opened my eyes and turned towards Keeper Yorish, who had come to stand beside me.

  "...forgive me if this is presumptuous, but would it be possible to see the Everforge in use?"

  The Keeper frowned. "That wasn't a part of our deal."

  "I know," I nodded, "But I ask regardless."

  Yorish stared at me for a time, and I got the distinct feeling he was debating throwing me out. Then, his gaze focused, and he walked past me to climb the dais. A hammer appeared in one hand and a metal bar in the other, most likely retrieved from some hidden spatial storage.

  "Watch closely," Yorish commanded, staring down at me. His demeanor had shifted, his eyes clear and focused, and I realized his mana had begun to stir again.

  The Keeper laid the metal bar on the anvil, then raised his hammer high overhead before bringing it down with a thunderous crash. Mana rippled out from the impact, buzzing along the floor in a faint wave. A second hammer blow sent the lines across the room flickering like a candlelight, and the third caused many to flare brightly for a moment.

  Each strike to the bar caused a reaction of some manner, though I soon noticed that it was never quite the same. The mana balance would shift and change as one or two elements grew more prominent in my senses, but the precise blend would change from moment to moment. Almost as if Yorish was altering it at will for some purpose I could not grasp.

  What was even more impressive was the sheer volume of mana being guided. Yorish directed those lines with apparent ease, and I could sense the seemingly impossible strength flowing through the anvil and into the metallic bar.

  It took Yorish minutes to reshape that rough piece of metal into a sword. I had seen its general shape a thousand times over but had never sensed such depths of mana bounded to an object on such a fundamental level. It felt as if physical and magical had fused, not unlike...

  Something clicked into place. I could not tell what, not without more time to consider it, but there was something about this that felt familiar.

  Yorish descended the stairs, turning the blade over in his hand as he walked. His face looked unsatisfied, and he deposited it and his hammer within whatever storage space he had at his command.

  I wondered momentarily if I could ask him to show me that too, but decided not to press my luck. Creating demiplanes could wait for a year or two.

  "Did you learn anything?" Yorish asked as he stopped before me.

  I smiled. "Yes. Unfortunately, I have no idea what I learned. Not yet."

  Yorish returned my expression and laughed. "The nature of magic, I suspect. Unfortunately, I cannot elaborate on this without violating certain customs, but I sincerely hope you benefit from this."

  "Thank you, Keeper Yorish," I bowed at my waist.

  "Bah," he waved a hand as I straightened, "I'd rather you live. Live and show me what your magic looks like in five years, understand?"

  "I plan on it."

  "Good!" Yorish's smile faded, "Now, onto more formal matters. I believe you have an oath to swear."

  Ah, right. I had forgotten.

  I cleared my throat and said, "I swear upon my magic and my indelible soul that I shall say nothing about what I saw here and what I have learned until or unless you or your successor as Keeper gives me leave."

  It was a decent enough oath with only one real loophole that I could find. I could have closed those or left more for myself, but that would not matter. The intent mattered more than the words, so even writing what I had seen here might be enough to 'break' my promise and bring me harm.

  A deep, unpleasant tightness fell around my core, like steel bands wrapped around my soul. I stumbled forward, coughing as I pressed one hand to my chest. My breaths came short and quick, my Aether flexed against my will, and I felt the room spin around me.

  Then, the sensation vanished as quickly as it had begun. My breathing eased, my heart rate returned to normal, and the pressure around my core faded.

  "That was...unpleasant," I remarked, straightening up and wiping down my clothes.

  "They only get worse as you advance," Yorish said, shaking his head. My opinion of the man—and his acting skills—rose, and I idly wondered if there was a way to mitigate the effects.

  "Unfortunately," Yorish continued after a moment, "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave."

  "Of course," I nodded, "Please, lead the way."

  "That's not what I meant. Not wholly."

  Ah right.

  "How long do I have to prepare for my journey?"

  "I can grant you three hours to say farewell to your friend and gather some supplies."

  "Thank you. May I ask one last thing before I go?"

  Yorish hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "This is the last allowance I can grant, young man."

  "Of course. Do you know what it would take to remove a contract?"

  Yorish shook his head. "No. I know of The Silent Ones, but not much about them beyond the basics. I never wanted to know more, truth be told. I'm sorry."

  "Quite alright," I said, forcing a smile, "I understand completely."

  Yorish searched my face for a few seconds, then laid a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. He gave me a nod before gesturing towards the stairs. We ascended them back to his quarters, where the man used another teleportation spell to return us to the entrance hall.

  I thanked him again and watched Yorish walk back into the temple's depths. He had given me far more help than he should have—and far more than I deserved. I resolved to return that kindness someday if I lived.

  No.

  I shook my head and mentally corrected myself. I would beat these assassins and survive, no matter what it took.

  With that resolute thought fixed in my mind, I squared my shoulders and walked down the hill, mentally counting down the three hours I had left.

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