A week passed in intensive training. Mornings in the restricted library, afternoons in physical conditioning, evenings practicing the techniques Marcus had taught him. Astraeus's essence flow improved dramatically, becoming more natural and efficient. His combat forms sharpened into muscle memory. His understanding of dimensional mechanics deepened with each text he absorbed.
But the world outside the guild hall wasn't waiting for him to finish training.
On the eighth day, Guildmaster Crane summoned all available Apprentice-level and higher mages to the main hall. Astraeus arrived to find nearly forty mages gathered, their expressions ranging from curious to concerned. Darius, Lyra, and Thomas were there, along with Garrett (still recovering but mobile), Helena, Marcus, and several others he recognized.
Crane stood at the front of the hall, his expression grim. Behind him, a large map of the region had been mounted on the wall, marked with red pins in multiple locations.
"Thank you all for coming," Crane began. "I'll be direct: we have a crisis. Over the past week, rift activity has increased dramatically across the entire region. We're receiving reports of dimensional disturbances from seven different locations within a hundred miles of Thornhaven."
Murmurs rippled through the assembled mages. Seven rifts was unprecedented.
"Some of these are minor—temporary breaches that will close on their own within days. But three are confirmed stable rifts with active Voidborn presence. We need to address them immediately before they become nests like the one in Blackwood Forest."
Crane gestured to the map. "The three priority locations are: Riverside Village, forty miles south. Abandoned mines near Greystone, sixty miles east. And Merchant's Road waystation, thirty miles north. Each location has reported Voidborn sightings, and essence readings confirm active rifts."
He paused, letting the information sink in. "We don't have enough Master-level mages to handle all three simultaneously. Which means we're forming mixed teams—each led by a Master or senior Journeyman, supported by experienced Apprentices and Journeymen. This is not ideal, but it's necessary."
This is bad, Kha'Zul said. Three stable rifts at once means the barriers are failing faster than expected. This is the beginning of what I warned you about—when the threats outpace your ability to respond.
Crane continued. "Team assignments are as follows. Team One: Master Helena Voss leading, destination Riverside Village. Team Two: Master Instructor Marcus Thorne leading, destination Greystone Mines. Team Three: Senior Journeyman Darius Cole leading, destination Merchant's Road."
Astraeus felt a spike of concern. Darius was skilled, but leading a team against a stable rift was Master-level responsibility. They were stretching their resources thin.
"Team assignments will be posted on the board. Check your assignments, gather your gear, and depart within two hours. Questions?"
A Journeyman Astraeus didn't recognize raised his hand. "What about the other four locations? The minor rifts?"
"We're monitoring them. If any show signs of stabilizing, we'll dispatch teams. For now, our priority is the confirmed threats."
"What if we encounter more than we can handle?"
"Retreat, seal if possible, and report back for reinforcements. No heroics. These missions are about assessment and containment, not glory. Understood?"
Everyone nodded.
"Good. Check your assignments and prepare. Dismissed."
The crowd moved toward the assignment board. Astraeus found his name quickly:
TEAM THREE - MERCHANT'S ROAD WAYSTATION
•Leader: Darius Cole (Senior Journeyman)
•Members: Lyra Venn (Apprentice), Thomas Reed (Journeyman), Astraeus Ren (Apprentice), Kira Ashwood (Apprentice)
His original team, plus Kira—the enthusiastic Apprentice who'd been part of the group that rescued Garrett. It was a solid team, but they'd be facing a stable rift without Master-level support.
This is a test, Kha'Zul observed. The guild is evaluating whether your team can handle serious threats independently. If you succeed, you'll be trusted with more responsibility. If you fail...
"We won't fail."
Confidence is good. Overconfidence is fatal. Be careful.
Astraeus found his team gathering near the equipment requisition area. Darius was already organizing, his military background showing in the efficient way he coordinated their preparation.
"Alright, listen up," Darius said once they were all present. "This is similar to the Blackwood nest, but with some key differences. First, we don't have Master-level support. That means if things go wrong, we're on our own. Second, the waystation is on a major trade route, which means there could be civilians in the area. Protecting them is priority one."
"What do we know about the rift?" Thomas asked.
"Not much. Merchants reported seeing 'shadow creatures' near the waystation three days ago. Guild scouts confirmed essence disturbances consistent with a stable rift, but they didn't get close enough to assess the threat level. We're going in partially blind."
"Voidborn count?" Lyra asked.
"Unknown. Could be two, could be ten. We prepare for the worst and hope for the best."
"What's the plan?" Kira asked, her earlier enthusiasm tempered by the seriousness of the situation.
"Same strategy as Blackwood: assess, adapt, execute. We approach carefully, scout the situation, then decide whether to engage or retreat for reinforcements. Astraeus, you're our sealing specialist again. Lyra, defense and control. Thomas, primary offense. Kira, you're support—healing, essence restoration, whatever the situation requires. I'm tactical coordination and secondary offense."
"What about civilians?" Astraeus asked.
"If we find any, we evacuate them first. No exceptions. A sealed rift means nothing if people die in the process."
They spent the next hour gathering supplies: essence restoration potions, healing supplies, camping gear, weapons, and food. Astraeus checked his personal equipment, ensuring everything was in order.
[INVENTORY CHECK]
•Essence Restoration Potions (3)
•Healing Supplies (Basic)
•Travel Pack (Fully Stocked)
•Guild Badge (Apprentice)
•100 gold, 23 silver
He also requisitioned a proper weapon—a short sword with essence-conductive properties that would enhance his combat techniques. It wasn't expensive or particularly powerful, but it was better than fighting unarmed.
[ITEM ACQUIRED: ESSENCE-CONDUCTIVE SHORT SWORD]
[EFFECT: +10% damage to essence-enhanced attacks]
Two hours after the briefing, Team Three departed through Thornhaven's northern gate. The weather was clear, the road well-maintained, and the journey should have been straightforward. But Astraeus couldn't shake the feeling that this mission would be different from Blackwood.
Trust your instincts, Kha'Zul said. Something feels wrong about this. The timing is too convenient—three stable rifts appearing simultaneously suggests coordination, not random chance.
"You think something is organizing the Voidborn?"
Maybe. Or the barriers are failing in a pattern rather than randomly. Either way, be prepared for surprises.
They made good time, covering the thirty miles in about six hours with minimal breaks. The Merchant's Road was busy with travelers, which was both good and bad—good because it meant the waystation was still functioning, bad because it meant potential civilian casualties if things went wrong.
The waystation came into view as the sun began its descent toward the horizon. It was a large structure, built to accommodate merchant caravans—stables, storage buildings, a main hall with lodging, and defensive walls. But something was wrong.
The gates were closed. No smoke rose from the chimneys. No sounds of activity echoed from within.
"That's not normal," Darius said quietly. "Waystations keep their gates open during daylight hours for travelers."
They approached cautiously, weapons ready, essence gathered. The walls were intact, showing no signs of attack. But the silence was oppressive, unnatural.
Darius knocked on the gate. "Hello? Anyone inside?"
No response.
"Lyra, can you sense anything?"
She placed her hand on the wall, her essence flowing into the earth. After a moment, she opened her eyes, her expression troubled. "There are people inside. Maybe twenty. But they're not moving. Just... standing there."
"Standing where?"
"The main hall. All of them, gathered in one place, completely still."
That's not Voidborn behavior, Kha'Zul said. They kill or corrupt, they don't gather people and make them stand still. Something else is happening here.
"Could they be dead?" Kira asked quietly.
"No. I can feel their life essence. They're alive, but wrong somehow. Like they're asleep standing up."
"We need to get inside," Darius decided. "Thomas, can you force the gate?"
"Probably, but it'll make noise."
"Do it. Whatever's happening in there, we need to see it."
Thomas gathered his essence and released a concentrated force blast at the gate's locking mechanism. The wood splintered, and the gate swung open with a groan.
They entered the waystation courtyard, weapons ready, moving in formation. The stables were empty, the storage buildings undisturbed. Everything looked normal except for the complete absence of activity.
The main hall's door was ajar. Darius pushed it open slowly, and they stepped inside.
What they found made Astraeus's blood run cold.
Twenty people—merchants, travelers, waystation staff—stood in the center of the hall, arranged in a circle, completely motionless. Their eyes were open but unfocused, staring at nothing. In the center of the circle, a rift hung in the air, but unlike any rift Astraeus had seen before.
This one was silver-white instead of black, and it pulsed with a rhythm like a heartbeat. The essence flowing from it wasn't void corruption—it was something else, something that felt almost... alive.
And standing before the rift was a figure that made every instinct Astraeus had scream danger.
It was humanoid, roughly seven feet tall, with skin that seemed to shift between solid and translucent. It wore robes that might have been white or might have been woven from light itself. Its face was beautiful and terrible, with features too perfect to be human and eyes that held depths of knowledge and madness.
That's not a Voidborn, Kha'Zul said, his mental voice tight with tension. That's something far worse. That's an Ethereal.
"An Ethereal Lord?" Astraeus whispered.
No. Not a Lord. But an Ethereal nonetheless—a lesser being from the same realm. Still far beyond anything you're ready to face.
The figure turned toward them, and when it spoke, its voice resonated in ways that hurt to hear, as if the words existed in multiple dimensions simultaneously.
"Ah. More mortals. How delightful. I was wondering when the local mages would notice my work."
Darius raised his weapon, but his hand was shaking. "What have you done to these people?"
"Done? I've elevated them. Given them a glimpse of true reality, beyond the prison of physical form. They're experiencing transcendence. You should be grateful."
"Release them," Darius demanded, though his voice lacked conviction.
The Ethereal laughed, and the sound made Astraeus's essence recoil. "Release them? But they don't want to be released. They've seen what lies beyond, and they'll never be satisfied with mundane existence again. Even if I let them go, they'd spend the rest of their lives trying to return to this state."
It's telling the truth, Kha'Zul said grimly. Exposure to Ethereal essence at this level causes permanent psychological damage. Even if you save their bodies, their minds are already broken.
"We can't fight that thing," Thomas said quietly. "We need to retreat."
"And leave these people?" Lyra protested.
"They're already gone," Darius said, his tactical mind overriding his emotions. "We retreat, report to the guild, and let them send someone who can actually handle this."
The Ethereal tilted its head. "Oh, but I can't let you leave. You've seen too much. You might interfere with my other projects."
It raised one hand, and reality twisted.