The Years of Apocalypse - A Time Loop Progression Fantasy

As the excavation continued, Mirian saw the Governor's delegation approaching, flanked by two Praetorians and several city guards. Great. This again. But it was best to head it off.

She flew up and landed in front of Governor Quintus.

"Prophet!" he said, surprised.

"Yes. You're here about the Persamans, right?"

The Governor swallowed. "Yes, holy one. You didn't answer my summons—ah, you're right, of course!—but Parliament is watching the country be split in two and there are… concerns. This false Prophet… he's conquering the eastern cities one by one. Atroxcidi stands by his side. People say… well, there are rumors. And you are digging. I of course understand how critical this excavation is, but there are others…"

"Then send the Palendurio army. The traitor Corrmier no longer has control of it. If Ibrahim is busy besieging Madanhr, go liberate Alkazaria. You don't need me for that."

"The western half of the continent would be defenseless!" the Governor protested. "What can be so important… your holiness, I am not questioning that the Ominian has touched you. I only seek to inform you of the rumors and unrest that are spreading."

This was something she was seeing now when she proclaimed herself early. The initial shock of it let her do what she wanted—for a few days or weeks at least. Then, the different factions of power worked to accomplish whatever agenda they had, or maneuver for whatever power they could grab. The short time frame of the loop limited how much she needed to worry about it, but if she did find a way to drastically expand the amount of time in a cycle, it would start to become a problem.

Mirian had tried explaining last cycle that it didn't matter, that there simply wasn't time for Ibrahim to do anything to western Baracuel. She had tried explaining that, yes, she was a powerful archmage, but Atroxcidi would easily destroy her in any battle. Quintus said he was bringing up the concerns of others, but in reality, it was his concern, and he couldn't help but think she should be leading the army in some heroic struggle.

I need to make him think I'm going along with him.

"Very well. Begin mobilizing two divisions. Tell them my intention is to sneak through the Casnevar Range. We'll strike at Rambalda and cut off Ibrahim's supplies and force him to retreat. We will depart on the 14th of Duala."

Quintus seemed shocked.

"Do you need further instructions?"

"No, holy one. I will inform Parliament at once." He gave a cursory bow and departed.

Mirian watched him go. She wanted to say, and next time, leave the Praetorians behind. What in the five hells are you wasting their time for? But it was better to let him think he'd just won. The world would end before she would have to make good on her promise.

She returned to the excavation. By now, geomancers had cut away the stone surrounding the indestructible layer. It wasn't the Monument, though. It was a much smaller room.

"Here, your holiness," said one of the artificers who was helping run the water pumping spell engines. "We think this is a door."

The door was made of some sort of dark metal. It didn't appear to be adamantium, but like the black stone, it was resistant to both force and shape spells. There were a mix of glyphs and runes on the door. Enchantments, still active after all this time? That should be impossible.

Mirian had a sense that she'd seen something else like this before. There had been something early in the loops… but what? What does this remind me of?

The other arcanists had tried to open the door in various ways, but it was firmly locked. Mirian began to investigate. The glyphs were spread out, and by inference she knew most were on the other side, but she could map out a probable sequence. Energy rerouting. The complete sequence isn't on the door, but it's implied. If force is applied… hmm. She used a divination spell that would track energy and tried a force drill again. There. Some sort of sequence is causing the stone to absorb the force as heat, then dissipating that heat all around the structure. Her usual trick of overheating a glyph to break it wouldn't work. But where is the arcane energy for such an enchantment coming from? She tried overwhelming the glyph with electric energy, then tried magnetic detonation. Again, the spells appeared to have no effect. Again, she could detect part of some sort of sequence that was moving the energy around, presumably to dissipate it.

There was no way to do that she knew of with an enchantment. Remnant Elder work? she wondered. But the Elder Gods used glyphs that were almost too small to see, and integrated the glyphs into the very stonework itself in a way that was totally different than human construction.

There was another structure, she realized, that did have similar construction.

Torrian Tower. It wasn't quite the same; Torrian Tower didn't have sequences that resisted damage so well, but it did have glyphs designed to support the materials, resist weathering, and counter attempts to shape the stone itself. Conduit nodes inside the tower allowed arcanists to recharge the structural enchantments.

Mirian embraced her focus and examined the door again. No soul energy present. It's not actually using spell resistance, just clever tricks.

She looked to Professor Viridian. "Do you think it'll work?"

Professor Viridian looked at Jei.

Jei shrugged. "Best time to try it, yes?"

Mirian turned to her newest spell. Functionally, the spell pushed her. The trick part was that it pushed her towards a set of coordinates she couldn't see. She had tried it in open spaces, but not to actually pass through an obstacle yet. Possibly, this would just see her splatter against the door, and she would have yet another ignominious end to a cycle. But, if this was human construction, chances were good that no one had constructed anything in the fourth dimension.

She held her breath and cast the stone mole inspired blink.

For a moment, the world rushed by Mirian, contorting in a way she found impossible to describe. It was like she could simultaneously see the inside and outside of the room in front of her, but the angles all seemed wrong. Then, she was standing on the other side of the door, thoroughly disoriented and slightly nauseous.

It worked, she thought, stunned. Then, it worked! She gave a whoop of joy.

Then, she heard a hissing sound, and froze.

The room was pitch black, so she cast a light spell.

She took a step back, hitting the door. About six feet away in front of her was an Elder creature. She was sure she had seen its like carved in the Mausoleum of the Ominian; it was an octopus-like creature, though its head had too many teeth, and its tendrils covered in unblinking eyes. The statues in the Mausoleum were all black so she hadn't expected the strange prismatic carapace or the way it moved. Parts of its body suddenly would vanish then reappear in a slightly different spot.

Mirian readied her spellbook, but it wasn't attacking.

She stared at it. How is it possible for it to be alive? The teeth weren't what she expected either. They were twisted spirals like the pointy end of a conch shell, only metallic with lines of fluorescing material. It was stranger even than the unliving abominations in the depths of the Vault. The only comparable thing she'd seen was Apophagorga.

It took her a moment to see the rest of the room. The creature was sitting atop a slanted table. On that table were all sorts of glyphs and runes, many of which she'd never seen before. Most were minuscule, but some were larger. There was also a silver and white device that resembled the leyline repulsor device that the Akanans had found in the Labyrinth. The strange Elder creature had several tendrils wrapped around it.

It was still looking at Mirian. It didn't look like it was aggressive, though it had enough sharp protrusions Mirian was going to be careful. The way it looked at her—all the eyes tracking her—it looked intelligent. She kept her spellbook in hand as she carefully approached it.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Have I seen this creature in my dreams before?

She wasn't sure. When she was close enough, she gently raised her hand, shaping her soul like she did when she wanted to befriend a wyvern. She touched the creature on a tendril, ready to leap back.

A complicated burst of concepts ran through her mind. They came too fast, like Jei speaking Gulwenen at her. It was like a thousand pictures all melded into one, a thousand emotions and ideas.

Slower, she tried to say. Simple.

The creature moved its tendrils, dozens of eyes examining her.

THIS ONE SURVIVED. THIS ONE SERVES. COMMAND?

The concepts rippled through her mind like a shout. Open, she thought, then tried to think of the best word. Door? Portal? Gate?

CANNOT. DAMAGED.

What was damaged? she pushed to the creature.

Images of the table flashed through her mind. There had been crystals of different sizes in it, once. Something had shattered them; she could see the pieces scattered across the ground. This creature could repair the glyphs and runes, somehow, but not the crystals. INSUFFICIENT MATTER.

Name? I'm Mirian, she pushed to it.

THIS ONE SERVES, AS LONG AS THE PACT IS HONORED. A NAME IS TOO SMALL A THING TO CONTAIN US. It sent another burst of complicated images and ideas that spun through Mirian's mind like a headache.

Pact? She had so many questions. They bubbled to the surface inadvertently.

YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN. HUMANITY'S MEMORY IS FRAIL, CARRIED IN TINY BUNDLES OF NERVES AND SOUL SHAPES ALONG A SINGLE THREAD OF TIME. WE CANNOT HELP YOU REMEMBER. WE WERE TASKED ONLY TO SERVE ONE PURPOSE. BEYOND THAT, THE FIELDS OF TIME LIE OPEN TO US.

There was so much more she wanted to ask, but she was still used to communicating in simple concepts with wyverns and trees. What purpose?

TO OPEN DOORS, except the concept she sensed came along with a bunch of things in her mind that definitely weren't doors.

Open small door.

OH. THAT.

The little door that Mirian had blinked past cracked apart, retracting into the wall like a hundred shards of glass.

Thank you, she thought. Then, I return. Matter for crystals. Now she was curious. What door had it meant it couldn't open?

She turned to see Jei, Viridian, and a handful of arcanists peering through the door. Their mouths were agape. "Jei," she said. "We need to make crystals for it." She looked around the construction site at all the debris. Well, they wouldn't be lacking for raw material.

***

As Jei and Mirian worked on fabricating various crystals as demanded by the Elder creature, the dig teams continued their excavation and soon encountered a thick layer of obsidian.

"This doesn't make any sense," one of the geomancers told her. "This entire area is full of sedimentary rock. Because the river, obviously. You don't—you can't just get a big chunk of volcanic glass in a spot like this with no other volcanic rock. It doesn't make sense!"

Obsidian required a specialized shaping spell to manipulate. Once one of the geomancers explained it, she was able to use glyphs from both shape rock and manipulate glass to assist; there was no need to scribe a new spell. When she wasn't fabricating crystals, she spent her time hastening the excavation. As she began to shear away chunks of the obsidian and levitate them away, Mirian started rethinking her spellbook composition. Old spellbooks would only use one of each glyph to minimize the resources needed, since magic inks were so hard to make back then. But that same technique could save me dozens of pages. It wouldn't be any good for combat spells, since I can't exactly be flipping back and forth between pages for something I need to cast fast, but for spells that I can take my time to cast—I could make a utility spell section.

Viridian was busy communing with the Elder creature. He reported that while it was completely intransigent about certain topics, it seemed to enjoy the attention. Perhaps the fact that it had sat there buried under the earth for countless generations had something to do with it. Except, what exactly did it mean by 'the fields of time lie open'?

Mirian worked through the night. She couldn't help it; they were on the cusp of something. It must be down there, she thought as they peeled more and more dark glass away.

Jei was still working on crystal fabrication. The Elder creature was demanding all sorts of rare minerals. She'd ordered some dozen arcanists to retrieve alchemical substances as Viridian translated exactly what the Elder creature needed.

Then, at last, the excavation made its second breakthrough, and they found a perfectly spherical cavern below the smaller room. Mirian caught a glimpse of it as they began to crack open the shell: a colossal object made of spindles and strange geometric ships, one that shifted depending on what angle she looked at it from.

A second Divine Monument.

Word spread quickly about the discovery, and even though it was midnight, both banks of the river and the bridge above filled with curious people. They watched as Mirian and the geomancers cut. This Divine Monument was identical in shape and size to the one in Torrviol. The obsidian layer had a perfect sphere of missing space that the Monument resided in. It was like a great glob of lava had come down on it, but never touched the object itself.

Mirian couldn't help but feel triumph.

I was right. And based on the leyline confluences, she could find other ones. There was another in Alkazaria, she was sure. But what does it mean? What are they used for?

***

Over the next four days, Mirian and Jei completed the crystals the creature required. Many of them were crystals Mirian had never made before, so Jei had to take the lead on fabrication. By then, the Palendurio Monument was fully excavated, and the geomancers had shaped the bedrock so that it formed stairs leading from it to the strange room with the Elder octopus-thing.

Why does this Monument have such a room and the Torrviol one doesn't? she wondered.

Viridian had continued discussions with the creature. It didn't seem to need water, food—or air for that matter. Both she and Viridian were thoroughly confused by its biology.

With the crystals on the table, the creature seemed—well, it was hard to ascribe emotions to it. Still, the way its tentacles moved implied a lightness, perhaps even joy. It quickly inserted the last crystals, and Mirian could see them faintly glowing as they filled with mana.

Open door? she sent to it.

YES. WHICH ONE?

Mirian was confused.

Don't know. What is? she sent, and tried to picture the Monument.

Several of the creature's eyes blinked at her. YOUR SIGHT IS SO PRIMITIVE. THE DOOR. THAT IS THE DOOR. THE GATE. THE PORTAL.

The Monument? Like— and this time she pictured the place deep underground in Torrviol.

IT IS SIMPLY DONE, the creature sent, and suddenly, Mirian felt a surge in mana. Shocked, she let go of the creature and stepped back. The silver device the creature was wrapped around—the one that looked like the leyline repulsor—suddenly glowed. Mirian felt mana rushing past her, towards the Monument.

And the Monument began to move.

She stepped out and watched, jaw open, as the geometric shapes began to pulse. The huge circular arms whirled, spinning around, until the entire device was moving. Gradually, it increased in speed, moving faster and faster until—

There was a flash of light, and in place of the Monument was a sphere. Mirian blinked at it, trying to understand what she was seeing. It was like looking at a glass sphere full of water, only instead of distorting the light, it was like there was something moving beneath that glass. She saw—no, that couldn't be right. Is that… it looks like the room in Torrviol. It's distorted, but there's the primary spell engine, and there are the divination devices.

Her heart was pounding. "It can't be," she said, voice full of awe.

Jei came and stood next to her. "The equations always needed two sets of coordinates," she said, voice also full of astonishment. "I was… right."

"A door," Mirian said. "Wait…"

All the pieces were suddenly falling into place. There was the Ominian, and that encroaching wall of fire in the stars. During the Cataclysm, there had been the Gates of Fire, holes in the world that burned entire cities. All around this gate was, she realized, the result of one of those gates: a sphere of black glass. When the old legends had called them gates, they had been literal. Gates using the fourth dimension. She spun, looking at the Elder creature. Was it possible for an octopus covered in eyes and shell-teeth to look smug? And if it draws energy from the leylines—!

"Jei, we did it!" she said, tears bursting from her eyes. She wrapped her old mentor in a hug. When she let go, she said, "Sorry, I know you don't like hugs, it's just… this breakthrough… this is going to change everything!"

"It's quite okay," Jei said, and she was positively beaming. "To think—my life's work." She looked at Mirian, then back to the gate, and started moving down the steps. Mirian joined her, marveling at the skeins of light moving through the sphere.

They stood next to the sphere.

"You should go first," Mirian said. "Without your equations, I wouldn't have even known to look."

"It is my honor, Respected Mirian," Jei said. She hesitated, a mix of trepidation and awe on her face. Then she took a deep breath and stepped into the sphere.

There was a flash of mana and light, and then she was on the other side of the gate, distorted like she was on the other side of a veil of water. She could see Jei excitedly gesticulating, and then, when she stepped back through, Archmage Luspire and High Wizard Ferrandus were at her side.

"Well burn me," Luspire said. He looked back at the Monument. No, not Monument. Gate. An Elder Gate. "But then… what's causing the time loop?"

"No idea," Mirian said. "But this changes everything. Now we need to figure out by just how much." She turned to the arcanists. "Get me a team of artificers! And someone inform the Governor there might be a change in plans."

There's a path forward, she knew. Ominian, I will not fail you.

She turned back to the Elder Gate and smiled. Hope swelled in her.