The Seal Breaks

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The North Sea was a violent one that even the Fierim could not tame. It crashed onto the cliffs of Tiraen and over time they were worn down. Now the remaining rock snaked like long fingers into the ocean. At one point these rocks formed a bay and the beach inside was seldom tormented by harsh waves. Here a cabin was set into the sand where a very old Valiaphite lived on fish he caught in the tranquil lagoon. He led a peaceful life but it was not without purpose, for he guarded a secret.

He knew about an island where the gods and goddesses had given life to the races long ago, and he knew of the lake on this island where they gave their powers to their children. He had a boat. It was small, but the island was close and the cruel waters always seemed to be kind to him. Perhaps this was because he spoke to the sea, and he sang to it in morning hours when he felt lonely.

Everon led his strange group down from the cliffs along a narrow path until eventually they stood on the beach. Argenen bent down and pushed his fingers into the sand, and his remaining breath was stolen by the beauty of the dusk sky. Even as they walked to the lone cabin on the beach dusk turned into twilight. An old man answered their knock and Everon introduced them.

"They need to go to the island, Wuo." He said, then Wuo let them in and they finally rested after the exhausting climb.

"You will sleep first." Said Wuo. "I'll ask her in the morning."

"Who?" Argenen asked.

"The sea." Said Everon. "Sleep as much as you can."

By late morning the next day, Argenen was sitting in Wuo's boat, shielding his eyes from the light that bounced up from the water. The water's surface had become a blazing mirror for the morning sun. He could have escaped to the small cabin below deck, but he didn't want to face the worried glances of his companions. Argenen was worried too; the void he had summoned was haunting him now, he could feel it inside him.

At noon Brumil emerged and looked around until he saw Argenen. His robe was dirty and torn; suddenly it struck Argenen how different he looked. The journey had taken its toll, and Nevean mages were never meant to be travellers.

"I never really explained." He said as he sat down.

"About the void?" Argenen asked.

"About the Omnisphere. It's more important that you understand what it really is."

"It's the realm of the dead." Argenen said, confused. "Isn't it, the afterlife?"

"Not really, that's just what parents tell their children. The Omnisphere is more than that. It's everything; it is the realm we exist in and all the realms beneath it."

Argenen suddenly wished he had finished his studies at the academy instead of becoming a soldier. There were more unexplained things than he had expected to find, and even in Pyriam he had never really cared, but now he wanted to know. At that moment it felt like nothing he knew was true, and even the mesmerizing sea seemed unreal.

"There are more realms?"

"Yes. The gods created them within each other. Like this." Here Brumil took a small glass orb out of his robe. It rolled around on his palm and glittered like the water.

"It's like a sphere inside a sphere, and each layer lies on top of the previous one. Each new layer is more complete than the previous one, it looks the same as the one beneath it but it also has something new."

"So the realm of the dead has other realms within it?"

"No, the Omnisphere is everything, Argenen. This realm is part of it, and the realm below it is what you call the realm of the dead. Our world is another layer on top of countless others. We are in the Omnisphere right now. Our world is slightly better, more complete that the ones beneath it."

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