Chapter 17 #5
"Fine," he gasped, though he clearly wasn't. "Just... takes a lot out of me. My magic is stronger here but it's more chaotic too. Stronger but harder to control."
I helped him up the gangplank and onto the ship. The interior was in better condition than the outside had suggested, though still ancient and decayed. Dust covered everything.
"What is this place?" I asked as we moved deeper into the ship. "How is there a wing ship in the First Dark?"
Cypher leaned against a wall, still catching his breath. "The First Dark has been around since the beginning of everything. It's the origin. Rifts have been finding their way here for thousands of years by complete accident. Most never leave."
"That's comforting," I muttered, examining our surroundings. The ship's design was older, more ornate. The control panels were covered in symbols I didn't recognize, and where modern ships had crystal matrices for navigation, this one had what looked like actual mechanical instruments.
"This ship is ancient," Cypher said, having recovered enough to join me. "Pre-Assembly design."
"Can it still fly?"
He ran his hand over a control panel, wiping away centuries of dust. "I doubt it. The power source would be long dead. But..." He trailed off, moving toward what must have been the captain's chair. Beneath it was a small compartment that he pried open with his knife.
"What are you looking for?" I asked, peering over his shoulder.
"Ships like this usually had emergency supplies. Maybe a map, or—" He pulled something out of the compartment. A small crystal that glowed with faint blue light. "Anchor crystal. Still has power after all this time."
"How is that possible?"
"The First Dark preserves things differently than the Gallery or stable realms. Time moves strangely here." He tucked the crystal into his pocket. "This might come in handy."
I moved to the viewports, trying to see if the denizen had somehow reformed or if others were approaching. The darkness outside seemed unchanged, but something about it made me uneasy. "Do you think there are more of those things out there?"
"Definitely. The denizens are drawn to outsiders. We need to keep moving."
"But we just got here," I protested. "Shouldn't we rest? You nearly collapsed after killing that thing."
"We can't stay," he said, already heading toward the exit. "This ship might offer temporary shelter, but it's also a beacon. Anything hunting out there will be drawn to it. It's too obvious."
I wanted to argue, but he knew more about this place than I did, and I didn't trust myself not to walk right into the arms of the next creature that wanted to eat me.
"Fine," I said, following him back to the gangplank. "But you need to tell me more about where we're going. The Genesis Engine. What exactly does it do? How do you know it's still here? How do you know it even exists?"
Cypher paused, looking back at me. "It exists. The codex is very specific about its function. It doesn't just create realms. It can repair them too."
"Repair them? You mean collapsed realms like Nytheris?"
"Yes. With the Genesis Engine, I could stabilize what remains of Nytheris. Make it habitable again. Bring my people home. If that doesn't work, then making a new realm where we landed the Night-Piercer is our only option, but I have to try. Wouldn't you?"
I thought of my own home, of my mother's sickbed. Of the lengths I'd gone to trying to save both of my parents, and the things I would do to keep them out of harm's way.
"Yes," I admitted. "I would." He stared at me for a long moment, and I wondered if he expected me to deny it. "We should go," I said, finally. "If the denizens are drawn to this ship, I don't want to be here when more of them arrive."
He nodded. "The wayfinder indicates the Genesis Engine is in that direction." He pointed into the darkness outside a viewport that looked exactly like the rest. "If we keep moving, we might reach it before we have no choice but to stop and rest."
"And the others? Will we find them there?"
"It's likely, yes. The First Dark separates travelers, but it also tends to funnel them toward the same destinations. The Genesis Engine is incredibly powerful, and elementals will be naturally drawn to that."
I took a deep breath. "Then let's go."
We had just reached the gangplank when a chorus of wails erupted from the darkness. Not just one denizen, but many of them. We both froze in our tracks.
"Back inside," Cypher ordered, grabbing my arm and pulling me back toward the ship's interior. "Now!"
I didn't argue. We stumbled back into the ancient vessel, slamming the hatch behind us. Cypher threw his weight against it, sliding an old bolt into place.
"Will that hold them?" I asked.
"I don't know. But it's better than nothing."
I moved to one of the viewports, wiping away centuries of grime. What I saw made my stomach drop. Shadowy figures moved through the darkness. I couldn't count them—five? Ten? More? They flowed into one another, separating and rejoining like oil in water.
"There are too many. We can't fight that many."
Cypher joined me at the viewport, his shoulder brushing mine. "No, we can't."
"So what do we do?"
He was quiet for a moment. "We wait. The denizens are attracted to movement and energy. If we stay still and quiet, they might lose interest."
"Might?"
"It's our best option." His eyes met mine. "Unless you want to try fighting our way through them."
I looked back outside. The denizens were closer now, their elongated limbs reaching toward the ship, testing its surface. One pressed a face against the viewport, and I stumbled back with a choked cry.
"I think waiting sounds good," I said, moving away from it.
Cypher nodded. "We should find somewhere more defensible. If they get in, we'll need a place to make a stand."
We explored deeper into the ship, our footsteps echoing in the empty corridors.
The captain's quarters were sealed, but Cypher managed to force the door open.
Inside, the room was surprisingly intact.
There was a bed, a desk covered in ancient instruments, and a small viewport that showed nothing but darkness.
"This will do," he said, closing the door behind us. "One entrance, easy to defend."
I sank onto the edge of the bed, exhaustion suddenly bearing down on me. How long had we been moving? Hours? Days? Time felt meaningless.
"We should rest while we can," Cypher said, seemingly reading my thoughts. "Take shifts. I'll watch first."
"No," I said too quickly. "I don't trust you enough to sleep while you're watching."
Pain flashed across his face, but he nodded.
I hadn't meant to say that out loud, but it was out now and I couldn't snatch it back.
I didn't even really mean it. I didn't think so at least. Some part of me, regardless of what he'd done, didn't think he was capable of outright violence towards me.
But I was nowhere near ready to let him know that.
I sat in silence for a while, watching as Cypher moved around the small captain's quarters.
He pulled a piece of fabric from his pocket and covered the viewport, blocking out whatever might be watching us.
Then he took out the glowing crystal he'd found earlier and set it on the desk.
Immediately, the room filled with a soft blue light that cast long shadows across the walls.
My eyes followed him as he removed his captain's coat and laid it carefully over the back of a chair.
One by one, he placed his weapons on the desk—his curved sword, two daggers, and a small knife that looked like it was meant for carving fruit.
I didn't want to watch him. I didn't want to feel anything for this man who had manipulated me at every turn.
"You said the First Dark was the origin," I said, desperate to break the silence. "What did you mean by that?"
Cypher paused, then came and sat on the edge of the bed, careful to keep distance between us. He ran a hand through his long dark hair and sighed. "My people had stories dating back to the dawn of existence. They spoke of it as a place where things were created. The birthplace of all realms."
"How does that work?"
"Think of the Gallery as a river or a stream, and the First Dark is the sea it's fed from. It's the source of all energy, all creation. The Gallery is just one path it takes."
"So the Gallery I know—the one we've been traveling through—"
"Is just one Gallery," he finished. "There might be more out there. Infinite Galleries, each with their own currents, their own portals to new realms."
I tried to wrap my mind around that. "So there could be countless realms we've never even heard of? Places completely disconnected from our own?"
"Exactly." A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Places the Assembly has never reached. Places where Nytherians might have escaped to without ever knowing there were others who survived. If they had a rift, it could be possible theoretically"
All my life I'd thought of the Gallery as the space between all realms, the connective tissue of existence. But if Cypher was right, it was just one branch of something much larger, much more complex.
"So the Genesis Engine can tap into this?"
Cypher nodded. "The Engine exists at a nexus point where all Galleries potentially connect back to the First Dark. It channels pure potential. That's why it's so dangerous. That's why so few have ever found it, and why fewer have survived using it."
"And you think I can control it because I've been touched by this place?"
He looked at me then, his copper eyes reflecting the blue light of the crystal. "I don't just think. I know. The First Dark chose you. It reached out to you when you were lost. It marked you. That doesn't happen to every rift. It's not normal, or common. It has to mean something."
"If there are infinite Galleries," I said, "does that mean there are infinite First Darks too?"