Gaspar adjusted the folds of his black robes as he ascended the alabaster steps leading up to the Aetherium Conclave’s principal spire. His expression remained mostly impassive, though the faint furrow in his brow betrayed the weight of his thoughts — and his exhaustion.
The grand chamber doors lood ahead, etched with its endless shimring arrays that pulsed faintly at his approach. Though imposing, they were little more than ceremonial artifice. He paused at the threshold, squared his shoulders, and smoothed his robes one final ti before stepping forward.
The doors parted without a sound, revealing a circular hall crowned by a vast dod ceiling, alive with a shifting tapestry of stars and nebulae that mirrored the ever-changing night sky. Beneath it, high-backed chairs curved in a semicircle around a crescent table and the central platform, where the Council of the Rising Isle convened. Most seats were occupied, their occupants’ expressions ranging from contemplative to mildly impatient. Gaspar’s entrance only drew a few glances.
“Well, there you are,” drawled a man with salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimd goatee. Dressed in grey robes, he lounged in his seat with an air of irreverence, as though decorum had long ceased to concern him. “We thought you’d forsaken us for the day, Gaspar.”
Gaspar t the man’s gaze coldly as he crossed the chamber to his own seat. “I would never dream of it, Felwin. So of us still take our duties seriously.”
The man rely shook his head, chuckling under his breath.
“You, of all people, are not the one I expected to be late,” ca a softer voice — asured, but carrying its own edge. “Given your recent experiences, however, it would be unfair to hold it against you.”
Warder Asheton regarded him with a nod, her golden braids streaked with white, her dark skin bearing the first traces of age. Though her words were conciliatory enough, the woman’s sharp gaze had a way of making one feel as if she were searching for faults and ways to pick one apart.
“If we are in the business of excusing tardiness, then perhaps Clemmons had the right idea not to co at all,” a third voice remarked dryly. The speaker, a severe man seated near the center, had a long beard that spilt down to his chest and eyes that always sought to pierce through all pretences.
Gaspar took his seat at the edge of the semicircle without replying. Arch Wizard Newbury wasn’t a man Gaspar was at odds with, but neither were they particularly aligned.
“None of that now, Newbury,” a final voice, firm yet unhurried, cut through the brief tension. Gaspar turned his attention to the elderly woman seated beside Newbury. Arch Wizard Elaine Ho lifted an elaborate Luicean cup to her lips, her silver hair pulled into a neat bun. “I swear, the older you get, the more you seem to enjoy senseless bickering. We can squabble later, when an imperial envoy isn’t due to arrive shortly.”
The woman glanced at Gaspar, and he inclined his head in acknowledgent before casting his gaze around the room. As Newbury had pointed out, Grand Wizard Clemmons was absent — likely still recovering from the ordeal in the Hall of Echoes. Arch Wizard Hastings and three others were also missing, aning there were ten present, though given the turmoil outside the Isle at the mont, their absence was unsurprising.
What irked him, however, was a certain senior wizard’s missing presence.
“Where is Ward?” he asked.
“No one knows,” Felwin replied with a shrug. “At this point, I am starting to think she is avoiding us deliberately.”
Several council mbers exchanged looks, so shaking their heads in mild exasperation.
“Ward’s presence today is hardly relevant,” Elaine interjected. “Unlike the rest of us, she has no obligation to attend.” She turned her attention fully to Gaspar. “More pressing is the matter at hand. You have the most experience with Baroness Hartford. How do you suggest we proceed with her during the inquiry?”
Gaspar hesitated. “…I am not sure I am the best judge of her character, as recent events have made abundantly clear. But if I had to offer my advice, I would caution against either pressing her into a corner or handling her too delicately. Either approach could lead to unintended consequences.”
Newbury looked at Gaspar as if he’d just grown a second head. “You’re suggesting she would corner us? I did not take you for one to make absurd jokes.”
“I am not,” Gaspar replied tightly. “While I take no pleasure in saying this, she is not to be underestimated. My report should have made it clear that she is no ordinary imperial noble. It is my belief that she didn’t agree to today’s inquiry without a specific objective in mind.”
His thoughts drifted back to the Hall of Echoes. Even after two nights of rest and reflection, the mory of those events clung to him like a lingering shadow. The Baroness had played a role that defied simple definition, with nurous implications that continued to unsettle him.
He could only hope today might provide so asure of clarity. Surely, with so many of the world’s most accomplished wizards gathered in one place, they could extract answers—answers about the Baroness, her suspicious knowledge, and the broader consequences of recent events—without further complicating matters too much.
At least, that was what he told himself.
The chamber settled into an expectant silence as they awaited the Baroness’ arrival. Outsiders were seldom granted entry into the Aetherium Conclave, but the Baroness would be transported here directly from the Chamber of Conjunction.
The air above the central platform flickered, then split open in a cascade of light. From its brilliance, Baroness Hartford erged, tall and composed, clad in a crimson gown. Her gaze swept the assembled wizards, assessing them with cool detachnt, before briefly eting Gaspar’s own.
“Baroness Hartford,” Arch Wizard Elaine began in a formal, almost motherly tone — one she rarely used with those who actually knew her. “Welco to the Aetherium Conclave. We appreciate your cooperation in this inquiry. We hope it will provide clarity for all parties involved.”
The Baroness inclined her head. “The pleasure is mine.”
Elaine gestured towards the semicircle of council mbers, introducing each in turn. Baroness Hartford’s eyes moved thodically from one to the next until she finally raised a brow. “I notice Grand Wizard Blakeshaw is among those absent. I presu he is otherwise engaged?”
“He is.”
Gaspar frowned slightly. Why Blakeshaw? To his knowledge, the two had no connection. Why ask after him?
Arch Wizard Elaine pressed on. “You’ve reviewed the reports, I trust? We have all reviewed the statents provided by our wizards present in the Hall of Echoes. To begin, do you agree with their account of events? That the Hall was compromised by an unknown force capable of overriding its defences? That you vanished during your interaction with a rembrance stele and later reappeared within an unstable dinsional anomaly — witnessing a confrontation between an unidentified entity and an ancient dragon above a Zuverian city?”
“That account does align with my experience,” the Baroness replied calmly.
“Good.” Elaine nodded. “While our wizards have confird that the situation in the Hall of Echoes has stabilised for the ti being, many, many questions remain. We are hoping you can help illuminate so of those gaps.” The arch wizard offered a mannerly smile. “Let’s begin with your disappearance. How exactly did it happen?”
“I do not know,” the Baroness admitted. “I am no wizard.”
Felwin leaned forward, his tone edged with skepticism. “But you are supposedly well-versed in Zuverian artifacts, aren’t you?”
The woman turned to him, scrutinising him for a mont before answering. “That is true. However, my expertise lies primarily in their historical and cultural significance, not the intricacies of their spellwork. To my knowledge, the steles were never designed to cause such an occurrence. It was as much a surprise to as it was to those others present.”
Felwin studied her for a beat longer before leaning back.
“If I may,” Elaine resud, “where did the stele take you?”
The Baroness shifted her focus back to the arch wizard. “Much like its intended function, it transported into a series of mories tied to the individual it was connected to.”
“In this case, that would be Arch Wizard Delmont Hartford, then?”
“Yes.”
“When you say ‘mories’, do you an they were static visions of the past, or did you interact with them?”
“They were not static. I was able to engage with the people within them, and they responded to as though I were naturally part of their world.”
Warder Asheton was the next to speak up, her sharp interest gleaming in her eyes. With a snap of her fingers, a notebook materialised beside her. “Curious. I’ve interacted with the mories in the Chamber of Rembrance many tis, but I have never experienced anything remotely similar. How pliable were these mories, would you say? Did the individuals within seem fully conscious of their true nature?”
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Baroness Hartford t Asheton’s gaze, seeming to consider her question for a few seconds. “They were…’pliable’ to an extent. It was much like experiencing reality, though perhaps only if it were guided by a structured narrative. The people within behaved naturally, but most did not appear aware that their existence was confined to those mories.”
Asheton conjured a quill. “Could you provide an example?”
“The first scene placed in a forest where a young Delmont Hartford was being taught magic alongside his siblings. Their master acknowledged my presence without suspicion and even invited to spar with his students. When I did, the duel felt as real as any fought with a living mage.”
“So the mory not only reconstructed the dynamics of mana and spellcasting but reacted seamlessly to outside interference,” Asheton mused. “Perhaps it did not even need to recreate those dynamics if the people within could cast true spells themselves. Do you think that was the case?”
“I cannot say,” the Baroness replied. “But if there was a difference, I could not perceive it. Their magic felt no different from that of any other mage.”
“From what I observed, it is highly likely they were interacting with real mana,” Gaspar added, earning a brief but unreadable glance from the Baroness.
Warder Asheton’s eyebrows lifted. “Interesting. That suggests these weren’t re projections, but sothing more akin to infused existences such as Auranthials.” Her expression grew more contemplative before she refocused on the Baroness. “The report also ntioned that you were wearing a particular artifact when you first engaged with the stele. Is that true?”
“It is,” the Baroness said.
“And this artifact — does it have any connection to Arch Wizard Delmont Hartford?”
“It does.”
“Hmm…” Asheton humd to herself, her quill moving through the air as notes scrawled themselves onto the notebook beside her. “Could the artifact itself have influenced the stele’s behaviour? Or maybe the bloodline connection played a role?”
Gaspar folded his arms, his brow creasing as he listened. He very much doubted bloodline ties were the cause; otherwise, he should have experienced sothing similar at so point. The Baroness’ artifact, however, was a more plausible factor. He still wasn’t entirely certain what manner of artifact it was, but he had seen for himself exactly how powerful it could be.
Even so, he suspected there was more at play than just that.
There was a sting of frustration that, of all the people who could have been granted the opportunity to walk among the mories of legendary wizards, it had to be her. He was the one who was a direct descendant of Delmont, not the Baroness. He should have been the one to uncover such knowledge.
But he forced that pointless bitterness aside. This was neither the ti nor place for petty grievances. Besides, he had been granted a fleeting mont to exchange words with the mory of Delmont Hartford — though he had squandered the opportunity more than he cared to admit.
Arch Wizard Elaine raised a hand, cutting off Asheton, who looked ready to pursue another line of inquiry on the subject. “Baroness Hartford, can you provide any further insight into how these mories were created?”
“I doubt I can offer an explanation that will satisfy you,” the baroness replied. “Though I experienced it firsthand, much of it remains a mystery to .”
Most of the council mbers seed to accept this as the expected response, but Gaspar found himself studying her more intently.
It was one thing to assu an untrained imperial noble wouldn’t be able to articulate or understand the intricacies of such a phenonon. That would have been a reasonable conclusion — if the Baroness were an ordinary noble. Gaspar couldn’t tell how much she truly grasped, or whether she was being forthright.
Elaine nodded after a pause. “The connection between the stele, these mories, and the Hall of Echoes clearly warrants further investigation. If nothing else, this proves that our understanding of the Hall is far more limited than we believed.” Her tone shifted, growing more pointed. “With that said, there are still other anomalies surrounding your disappearance and return.”
Baroness Hartford’s expression revealed little of her thoughts.
Elaine considered her for a mont. “The reports indicate that when you reappeared…there were two of you. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” the Baroness replied simply.
Gaspar unfolded his arms, paying close attention. This was one of the lingering questions that had plagued his mind for the past two days, left largely unexamined in the chaos that had followed at the ti.
“Could you elaborate?” Elaine asked.
The Baroness inclined her head slightly. “It relates to what I described earlier,” she said. “The mories I entered were not solely tied to Delmont Hartford. They also seed to draw on aspects of my own past. As a result, a construct—an echo of myself—was ford within them. When I returned to the Hall of Echoes, that construct followed .”
Gaspar resisted the urge to speak. Her calm deanour felt at odds with the gravity of what she actually described. As soone who had fought a manifestation of the Baroness and barely survived, the notion that such a replication could occur was absurd enough on its own. Delmont Hartford’s appearance and the other echoes were similar, perhaps, but what disturbed him was the Baroness’ utter nonchalance regarding the phenonon.
At the center of the crescent-shaped table, Arch Wizard Newbury scowled slightly as he stroked his long beard, his eyes fixed on the woman. “Before we even begin to address the implications of what you just said, I want to know how you managed to return to the Hall of Echoes.”
The Baroness turned her gaze to him. “The mories began to degrade the longer I remained within them. As they fractured, I was able to glimpse the Hall of Echoes through the cracks. By following those glimpses, I found my way back.”
Newbury’s frown did not ease, but it was Elaine who spoke next. “I believe what Arch Wizard Newbury is asking is how you navigated that process. You’ve admitted to not fully understanding the mories, yet both the reports and your own statent suggest you exerted a degree of control over them. Is that an incorrect assumption?”
“No, that is accurate to an extent,” the Baroness admitted. She paused for a mont before continuing. “It may be best explained as intuition, and, perhaps, sothing inherent. Warder Asheton’s theory about bloodlines could hold so rit. What I do know is that I retained a link to the mories, allowing a degree of influence over them.”
Gaspar glanced at his fellow council mbers, gauging their reactions. If he were to guess, she wasn’t revealing everything, and it seed so of the others shared his skepticism. Yet despite that, her explanation was strangely plausible in its improbability. If they were dealing with magic that operated on a level beyond ordinary perception—even beyond the recognition of their most accomplished wizards—it was unlikely that soone like the Baroness could explain it better, regardless of her hidden expertise.
It was much like how bards and their charms — most could never truly explain why their nonsense magic worked, only that it did.
Even so, Gaspar still very much wanted better answers for the things he had seen. There were things that would not cease to trouble him — the ease with which the Baroness had disappeared and reappeared within the Hall’s final chamber, for one. And if she had truly brought back a construct of herself, then it raised a far more intriguing question: could the Isle wizards replicate such a feat under the right circumstances?
Arch Wizard Newbury seed to be on a similar track. The man’s fingers still idly caressed his beard, eyeing the Baroness. “So, this replica of yours — it simply followed you out of the mory.”
“Yes.”
“Was it aware of itself at that point? Of its true nature?”
“It was.”
Newbury’s hand stilled. “Then what would prevent you from entering another mory and retrieving more accomplished figures? The possibility of doing so with an individual on the level of Arch Wizard Aubrianne isn’t without its appeal.”
“That would not be possible,” the Baroness replied evenly. “The construct existed only briefly outside its mory due to the unique nature of the Hall of Echoes. It would not survive beyond its bounds. Moreover, I believe the mories that created it are no longer accessible.”
“And why is that?”
“Because the entity that caused those mories to manifest is no longer present in the sa capacity. While there remain doubts regarding how the mories were created and how the steles interact with them, I believe it is clear that they were a byproduct of that entity’s influence over the Hall.”
“You sound quite certain,” Newbury remarked.
“Of that specifically, I am.”
Their gazes locked, neither breaking, until Elaine smoothly intervened. “Assuming we accept that explanation, Baroness, what happened next? According to the statents we have reviewed, your return coincided with an escalation of events within the Hall’s final chamber. However, there is little clarity on what that actually entailed.”
“I was there, and even I will admit to being bewildered by it all,” Magister Penney spoke from his seat, his expression grimr than what was common for the man.
Gaspar remained silent, waiting for the Baroness’ response. A mild sense of surprise crept over him as he realized that, so far, her answers had been unexpectedly…asured. Even if she wasn’t revealing everything just yet, she had remained composed. He had anticipated a display of her characteristic imperiousness, perhaps even so slight hostility before she revealed her hand. But was he simply misjudging her yet again?
Perhaps. But there was still much left to discuss, and several topics that would undoubtedly stir tensions within the chamber. He would withhold judgent until then.
“I believe the mories I experienced are deeply tied to the Hall of Echoes’ original purpose,” Baroness Hartford said. “In a sense, they could possibly be considered an extension of the lesser visions that the rembrance steles are designed to show. It is also because of that I believe the entity that invaded the Hall sought to exploit this connection, manifesting itself within one of those mories. The scene you referenced earlier—where it clashed with an ancient dragon—was its attempt to anchor itself within our reality.”
“Our reality, you say?” Arch Wizard Elaine, her brow rising slightly. “Are you suggesting this entity originated from beyond the Material Realm?”
“Yes,” the Baroness replied without hesitation. “And this is not the first ti it has breached this realm. The event depicted in that mory, witnessed by Grand Wizard Hartford and the others, was not fabricated. It was a recreation of a historical occurrence.”
“Do you have any evidence for that claim?” Felwin cut in. “Or are we to take this as conjecture? In fact, much of what you’ve said so far feels insubstantial — words without weight. Many ‘I believe’s. Are we listening to inford testimony or idle speculation?”
The woman looked at him, expression unfazed. “It is conjecture, naturally. Let remind you that I am here to recount my experience, not to provide indisputable facts. You may make of it what you wish.”
Felwin did not appear particularly amused by her response, but Gaspar, for once, was.
Elaine steered the discussion forward. “I would like to clarify one point regarding the appearance of this ancient dragon,” she said. “From what I understand, it was not originally part of the mory. Is that correct? We had so discussion about this before your arrival.”
“What you say is correct,” the Baroness confird, shifting her focus to the arch wizard. “The dragon was not present at first. It was sothing I…introduced.”
Elaine’s gaze sharpened slightly. “You introduced it?”
“Yes, though it is not as remarkable as it might sound. Since I was familiar with the historical record of the event from prior research, I knew an ancient dragon had been involved. As I have already ntioned, by that point, I had gained so degree of influence over the mories. I was simply able to…restore what had originally been there.”
Elaine studied the Baroness for several long monts. “…By your own account, then, you manipulated arcane phenona far exceeding the ability of even our most experienced wizards — all with little formal training or prior understanding of such magic. Most would describe that as more than remarkable.”
The Baroness was quiet for a ti before replying. “…I suppose they would.”
A light chuckle left Elaine, then her deanour turned more serious. “There is much to analyse surrounding this incident, but let’s focus on the entity the dragon fought, and, ostensibly, the cause behind all of this. Since you claim familiarity with the historical records of this event, does that an you also know what this entity is? Its nature remains an enigma to us.”
A subtle shift ca over the Baroness as her posture straightened, and a certain tension seed to settle over the room. “That question is not so simple to answer,” she said, weighing each word. Her eyes moved across the gathered council before she continued. “…Are any of you acquainted with the term ‘Anomalous One’?”
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