“What do you know of our powers?” Quin asked.
“Not enough, apparently.”
Quin chuckled. “The strength of my people has always been our adaptability. We were always willing to learn about other cultures, take what they had already perfected and use it as our own. It is what originally incensed the Chosen and had us declared one of the Forsaken. They did not like that we desecrated”—Quin rolled his eyes—“what the Mother had seen fit to gift us.”
Lucian rubbed his chin, the story sounding vaguely familiar.
“What they call desecration, we call advancement. In its basest form, our magic is tied to nature. Using what we learned from others, we were able to modify that power, strengthen it.”
“Modify?”
Quin nodded, eyes bright. “Outside of Elysia there are many practitioners of magic. It is not something they are born with, as we are, but something that they can call upon and control. They use a series of spells or rituals to tap into the power of the world around them. Using their spells, we are able to harness and employ our natural gifts in new and amazing ways.”
“If you already possess power, why would you need to tap into other sources?”
Quin gestured to the city thriving below them. “You see what is possible when hundreds combine their strength. Now imagine what is possible when each of those people is capable of what you see before you on their own.”
A current of foreboding skittered through Lucian at the possibilities. In the wrong hands, such power could be catastrophic.
If the low cast of the voices in his mind were any indication, the Triumvirate shared his concerns.
“Dangerous to play with such forces.”
“If they were to lose control . . .”
Quin’s expression did not change, so the Triumvirate had not broadcasted their thoughts with him. His smile did falter slightly, however, when no one seemed to share his enthusiasm.
“We take every precaution when performing new rituals,” he rushed to assure them. “We do not want to put our citizens at risk. We only seek to find advancements that make all our lives better.”
Lucian nodded, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he peered at the city.
“Water, for example. There were many underground streams, but the runoff from the destruction above had tainted them. We found a purification spell that allowed us to provide fresh drinking water. With it we’ve been able to filter out what does not belong. The same with the air and the earth. With the added boost from the ritual, we need only strengthen the magic every decade or so.”
Could it be that simple? Lucian’s mind was racing, his attention riveted on the man before him. “Where do the impurities go?”
“The Nether,” Quin said with a shrug.
Lucian went completely still. “Nether?”
Quin’s eyes bounced between them, shock registering briefly on his face when he realized they were not familiar with the word. “Surely you jest?” He laughed uncomfortably before sputtering, “How could you not have heard of it?”
“Humor us,” Lucian said.
Cheeks tinged red, Quin explained, “It is a world tied to our own, existing alongside us, connected as counterbalance.”
The longer he spoke, the faster Lucian’s mind spun. Fragments of ancient text fluttered through his mind as a tornado of emotion tore through him. A solution was just out of grasp, but not for much longer. This was it. He was on the precipice of discovery.
“It is the birthplace of nothingness. If our world is one of life, the Nether is one of death.”
Breath stuttered from his lungs as answers came crashing into being. “For everything there is balance . . .” he whispered.
“Fire and Water.”
“Air and Earth.”
“Spirit and . . . Nether,” Lucian finished.
Power blazing forth, Lucian cast his eyes over Val’don, truly seeing it for the first time. The strongest of the Chosen could see the various elemental powers as colors, but for Lucian, life in any form was comprised only of golden light. That’s why the threads of onyx liberally streaking through the city stood out in such sharp contrast. It was nothing like the inky black dissonance of the corruption, but it was similar enough that Lucian finally understood where it had originated. Unlike the corruption, these onyx threads were not seeking to destroy. They were part of the weave itself, existing in perfect harmony.
More explanations fluttered at the edges of his awareness, but there would be time to explore them later. For now, Lucian needed to make sense of what the presence of onyx threads meant.
“You’ve learned how to harness Nether.”
Quin’s brows pulled together in confusion. “No.”
“No?” Lucian asked, snapping his attention back to the soldier.
Quin flinched at the power pouring from his eyes, but Lucian did not pull it back. He wasn’t done with it yet.
“There is nothing to harness. The Nether is a void. Nothingness. It is where we send that which we do not need.”
“That may have been true . . . once,” Lucian murmured.
“I-I’m sorry?”
“Did your ancestors use the Nether to help with their excavations while building Val’don?” Lucian asked instead.
Quin shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s possible.”
“If that’s so, then they sent something into a place where nothing should exist. They warped its purpose, and in doing so, created something new.”
Quin was shaking his head. “Anything that goes into the Nether is destroyed. Nothing can exist there. It’s impossible.”
Lucian hummed low in his throat. It was clear Quin believed what he was saying, but that didn’t make it true. Lucian was looking at the evidence right now. As with all magic, the Nether had left its trace. While it may have come from the void, when called into their realm, it too was transformed. Called into being. Now it was part of the weave.
“What do you see, Guardian?”
Lucian ignored the question, still focused on Quin. “I’m going to need you to show me the spells you used. The ones that cast out the impurities.”
Quin’s answering nod was a sharp jerk. “Sure. I just need to notify the Council. They maintain all of our records.”
“You do that.” When the man didn’t move, Lucian bit off a growled, “Now.”
“R-right, I’ll be right back.”
Lucian watched him retreat before addressing the Triumvirate’s earlier question. “The Nether is interwoven in the very essence of this place.”
“How is that possible?”
“When the people of the Vale called it forth during their rituals, intentionally or not, they called the Nether into being. Transforming it.”
“They gave it substance.”
“Aye. Its presence here indicates that something tangible has been cast out. It is the echo of what once existed, although invisible without a gift such as mine.”
“You think we can utilize the Nether.”
“To cast out the corruption?”
“It makes sense, doesn’t it? At its core, the corruption is based in Spirit. Nether is its balance. If we cannot use Spirit to combat it, as Helena does, we will use Nether.”
“Do you really think it will work?”