We decided to begin immediately. Jask gathered supplies—blankets, water, medical provisions in case something went wrong—while Cypher and I walked to the shore of the frozen ocean. The ice stretched before us, a vast crystalline expanse that reflected the pale sunlight like a mirror.
"This is a good spot," Cypher said, stopping where solid ground gave way to ice.
I nodded, though I had no idea what made for a 'good spot' to tear a hole in reality. The First Anchor felt heavy against my chest. I only hoped this wouldn't turn into a massive failure, or worse, get somebody killed.
I turned at the sound of footsteps crunching across the frozen ground. The rest of the crew approached, their breath clouding in the cold air as they formed a loose semicircle around us. Kora held Click close to her chest, the brass gears in his little tail ticking softly as she stroked its head. Both watched me with identical expressions of worry.
"Everything's ready," Vic said, setting down his medical satchel. I glimpsed bandages, tinctures, and tools I couldn't name.
Tor dropped a heavy pack beside Vic's supplies. "Provisions, just in case. Enough for three days if something goes awry."
I swallowed hard. "That's... reassuring."
Cypher reached into his heavy coat and pulled out the codex, its ancient leather binding worn and cracked with age. He hesitated before extending it to me.
My heart lurched as I took the book. "You really think I can do this?"
He nodded curtly. "I know you can."
I opened the codex to the page he'd marked. Ancient Nytherian script covered the yellowed parchment—beautiful, flowing characters I couldn't begin to decipher. But Cypher had written in the margins, translating the instructions into common tongue.
Become the void. Feel the space between realms. The First Dark exists everywhere and nowhere. It is not a place you go to, but a state you invite into yourself.
I looked up at Cypher, my mouth suddenly dry. "This sounds like I'm supposed to let it possess me."
"I don't think it's possession," he said, taking a step closer. "It's a sort of communion. There's a difference."
"Easy for you to say," I muttered, but returned my attention to the page.
Stand at the threshold of two states. Land and water, light and shadow. Place one foot in each world. Breathe in patterns of three: three short, three long. Let your consciousness expand beyond your physical form.
The instructions continued, describing hand positions, visualization techniques, even the proper stance to maintain balance between realms. It was both more precise and mystical than I expected. I was almost completely sure I'd done none of this when I'd slipped into the First Dark by accident.
I stepped forward until my toes touched the ice edge. Following the codex's guidance, I positioned my feet—one on solid ground, one on the frozen ocean. Suddenly Cypher's decision to do this out here made sense.
"I'm ready," I said, though I was anything but.
I closed my eyes and began the breathing pattern. Three quick inhales, three long exhales. I pictured a pair of handsmade of pure swirling darkness reaching towards me, wrapping around my body and tugging me into the void. The First Anchor pulsed against my skin, growing warmer with each breath.
At first, nothing happened. Just the cold air in my lungs, the sound of the crew shifting nervously behind me. Then, gradually, I felt it. A subtle tugging sensation deep in my chest, as if someone had tied a thread to my sternum and was gently pulling.
"It's working," I whispered, not opening my eyes.
The tugging grew stronger, less like a thread and more like a rope, yanking me toward something vast and distant. The First Anchor burned against my skin, no longer simply warm but hot enough to make me wince. I kept my breathing steady, following the pattern despite the growing discomfort.
Then came the whispers.
They started faintly, like the rustle of leaves in a distant forest. But they multiplied rapidly, dozens becoming hundreds becoming thousands of voices, all speaking at once. I couldn't make out individual words, just the sensation of countless entities reaching across time and space to touch my consciousness.
The voices grew louder, more insistent. The tugging in my chest became painful, as if something was trying to pull my very essence from my body. The First Anchor flared with blinding heat.
Fear hit me hard and fast. This wasn't communion—it was a damn invasion. The First Dark wasn't responding to my call; it was consuming me.
I gasped, my eyes flying open. The codex slipped from my trembling fingers, tumbling to the frozen ground. I staggered backward, my legs suddenly unable to support my weight.
Strong hands caught me before I fell. Tor's massive arms steadied me, his voice rumbling in my ear. "Easy there, little rift. I've got you."
I couldn't breathe. The strain of the connection had siphoned the air from my lungs, leaving me gasping like a fish on dry land. Darkness edged my vision, threatening to pull me under completely.
