The wind carried the scent of burnt wood as it blew down the mountains, towards the sands stretching as far as the eye could see.

  One year. That was all she could offer him despite all of her power. Sitting alone in the ash-covered valley, he couldn’t help but repeat their conversation in his mind. With a sigh, he shook his head. One year. It was enough time to try and find a solution.

  His gaze lingered on the shadowy figures roaming the valley. While most were lost souls, some truly made his blood run cold. He felt something crackle behind him as he watched them. Startled, he turned around to see a sigil appear on the ground. Reality above it twisted, alarming him. He started on his feet and quickly backed off, reaching for his weapon instinctively before realising it wasn’t with him. He had left it on the nightstand in his room.

  Light dimmed above the sigil, and darkness seemed to pour out before Circe appeared. Reality returned to normal, and the sigil vanished. As if all of what just happened was completely normal, she walked past him without sparing him a second glance and walked up to a rock sticking out of the ground.

  Midhir narrowed his eyes. It was one of those things that were more difficult to look at, because it was so different on the other side. While here it was just carriage-sized rock, grey in colour and carrying burn marks from the fires that ravaged this valley, it glowed brightly with living runes carved into it on the other side.

  Circe placed her hand on the rock. “Shift.” Her voice rang in the air, then echoed once more in his mind as the rock flowed into a different shape. The uneven top smoothed itself at about waist level, forming a rectangular flat surface.

  “That’s better,” she muttered, placing the leather bag she brought with her on it. The next few moments passed in relative silence only broken by the sound of small glass bottles hitting each other. “This should be everything…” she muttered absentmindedly before finally turning to look at him. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” He lied, then turned his gaze to the half a dozen or so small glass bottles she brought with her. “What are those?” He walked up to her, trying to make sense of the two different versions of the rock he was seeing. In their world, it had been turned into a flat, rectangular block – almost like the altars, but it wasn’t made of the same material.

  On the other side, it kept its original shape, though the runes carved into it had begun to slowly change. It almost looked like they were melting, trying to adapt to its new form. A few of the shadows hurried over. Their mouths moved, but no sound reached his ears.

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  “They didn’t like what you did.” He blurted out.

  Circe’s left eyebrow raised. “Is that so?” She seemed to ponder for a moment. “I almost wish I could see what you do, just for a few moments.”

  He shot her a sharp glance. His lips curled down, and he furrowed his brows, prompting a laugh from her.

  “I know, I know – be careful of what you wish for and all that…” continuing to chuckle, she shook her head. “No Old God would dare try to take my eyes.” She raised her chin with pride, then turned her attention to the bottles she brought with her. “Now then…” She rummaged through the leather bag, then pulled put a stone mortar and pestle.

  “How so?”

  “Unless they wish to hear the bell toll for all things living, they need the Coven.” She didn’t give much thought to her response as she measured the different dusts and herbs in the bottles and mixed them all in the mortar.

  “Crystals you use in your weapons and jewellery – you call then ‘augments’, am I right?” She glanced at him, and only continued when he nodded. “They’re infused with spiritual power. But a human can’t infuse something with spiritual power, because they need a tool to control their spiritual power in the first place.” She explained while mixing what looked like a few drops of water into the mortar. “So, your ancestors – not yours specifically, but Eldoria’s – used already formed crystals. These uncut, unprocessed crystals allowed them to wield great power. Borrowed power.”

  She put the mortar down, then sat on the stone, facing him. “Borrowed power comes at a cost. Soon, they began to lose something of their own.” She continued with a stern expression. “At first, it was their dreams. Then, they began to lose time.” Seeing his confused expression, she let out a sigh. “Life. Their lives grew shorter and shorter. Every generation lived less than the one before. Why do you think that is?”

  Thoughts raced in his mind. She was talking about hundreds of years before Eldoria was founded. Perhaps even thousands. “How do you know all that?”

  “Knowledge passed down through generations.” She gestured towards him. “Why do you think they began losing parts of themselves?”

  He touched his left cheek as he pondered a moment. “You said it was borrowed power. That’s why, isn’t it?”

  “Broadly, yes. The crystals they used – and in a way, the augments your people use now, were formed of crystallised spiritual power that leaked from the other side of the Veil, through small tears that mended themselves without doing any real damage to this world.” She tilted her head. “But in time, the tears began to grow larger, and more began to pass through the other side.”

  Midhir glanced at the mortar. “Plants?” He asked after a moment of thought.

  Circe nodded. “Indeed. Plants, crystals, some insects. Very rarely, a sentient being – though those never survived for long.” She took the mortar in hand and stood up. “Whatever comes through the veil, it always carries power. Always.” She gestured him to approach. “That includes that eye of yours.”

  A shiver ran down his spine as she spoke her next words. “Never reach for that power. No matter what happens, if you have even the smallest reason to live one more day, to see one more sunrise, do not use that power. It will take your time, because your dreams already belong to Leviathan.”

  Before the weight of her words settled, she dipped her fingers into the mix, then pressed them just under his eyebrow. “Eclipse.”

  Half of the world’s light vanished.