Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1100: Chapter 1099: Dim Court and the Mirror Cavern

Between those layers upon layers of winding staircases, behind one ancient door after another, countless solemn and magnificent floors were piled up in the depths of the silent towers; the Dim Court stood upon the earth like stacks of heavy tomes, and every one of its levels seemed to be a miniature reflection of the Violet Kingdom’s ancient, distant, and secret memories. The further one went into the deepest parts of these floors, the more oppressive that sense of ancient secrecy became—until one crossed the lowest level and stepped into the underground structure of the Dim Royal Court, where the towers still continued to extend downward into the depths. In those underground floors, everything that could represent a "modern" air had finally vanished completely, leaving only grotesque Magic creations of unknown age operating in its depths, watching over things so ancient that they should perhaps never again be spoken of.

Layer after layer downward, the atmosphere in a hall of unknown depth beneath the ground was heavy—though called a hall, this space in truth already resembled a vast karst cavern. A primitive stone dome and rock walls enclosed this hollow beneath the earth, while many ancient, massive pillars bearing clear traces of human craft supported certain fragile parts of the cavern. Between the rock layers of the dome, stone slabs forming artificial ceilings could still be seen; they seemed fused with the stone, deeply "embedded" into the cavern’s top, and only faintly could one discern that they should be the floor of the level above, or part of some kind of "foundation" structure.

Stalactites hung from the dome, moisture condensed among the rocks, and icy droplets of water fell, dripping into this underground cavern—falling upon a layer of mirror-surface, setting off concentric ripples upon that solid mirror.

Almost half of the "ground" in the entire cavern presented a surface like a mirror: a pitch-black and utterly pure plane, abruptly "inlaid" between the rocky floor. It was exceedingly smooth, exceedingly flat, yet in this moment it was far from tranquil—as though some hidden power was surging within the depths of this black mirror. On that ink-dark plane, one could at times see ripples appear, or certain spots suddenly bulge upward, and beams of light from unknown sources swept across its surface. In the interplay of reflections, several slightly pallid faces were mirrored along the edge of the mirror.

The owner of one such face drew back slightly; he was wrapped in a pitch-black magic robe, and at the tip of the long wooden Magic Wand in his hand there glimmered an exceedingly dim radiance of Magic Power—this faint light, in theory, could not even illuminate a radius of two meters around him, yet in this eerie cavern, even such a feeble glow seemed enough to cast every detail into sharp relief, leaving no corner of the space beyond the naked eye’s discernment.

Around this black-robed Mage stood many guardians dressed in the same way; at the top of each person’s Magic Wand there also burned the same faint glimmer. In this meager light, the Mages’ somewhat pale faces looked to one another, until finally someone broke the silence: "The duration this time has already exceeded all previous records... counting that last fluctuation, this is the sixth surge."

"The shadows crossing the border are also more than before," another black-robed Mage said in a low voice, "and they seem harder to communicate with than ever..."

"They are restless and uneasy, as if their minds have awakened from slumber. That is not a good omen," the first black-robed Mage shook his head, then frowned. "Has anyone gone to the upper levels to send word?"

"A guardian has already been sent to inform Prince Nash," a female Mage said in a low, husky voice. "He should soon be..."

"I am already here."

Before the female Mage’s words fell, the voice of Prince Nash Narte came out of thin air, and along with this voice, a whirlwind of smoke suddenly rose within the cavern—Prince Nash’s figure passed directly through the stacked floors of the Dim Court and its interlaced magic barriers, "plunging" straight into this cavern space deep beneath the earth like a shadow falling into an abyss. His figure condensed in midair, then drifted weightlessly toward the edge of the "mirror," coming to rest among the guardians.

And at the very moment Prince Nash landed, the "mirror" at the center of the cavern suddenly stirred once more. A multitude of ripples burst into being upon its surface, and what had appeared to be a solid plane all at once began to surge like some viscous liquid. With this uncanny, hair-raising undulation came a series of low, indistinct whispers from beyond the mirror, murmurs like mutterings in dreams that reverberated through the whole space!

In the next second, certain things suddenly coalesced within the mirror-surface that heaved like soft mud; they rose swiftly upwards, constantly recombining with invisible energies in the air, rapidly forming one hollow "human shape" after another. These shadows were draped in objects like strips of magic symbol cloth, their formless black smoke within bound into rough limbs by those strips. These uninvited guests from "the other side" muttered and growled, shambling in a daze away from the mirror and staggering toward the guardians closest to them—yet the guardians had long since reacted. At Prince Nash’s command, ray after ray of shadow manipulation–burning beams shot from the tips of the Mages’ Magic Wands, passing unhindered through those "border crossers" from the shadow realm. Their strips of magic symbols flared silently under the beams, and the black smoke within them was neutralized and dissolved in an instant. In just a few seconds, these shadows were once again broken down into energy and darkness, sinking back into the depths of the mirror.

Everything happened in a flash, carried out by the guardians’ nearly instinctive muscle memory. Only after the border crossers had been entirely driven back did the group of black-robed Mages finally catch their breath. Some exchanged glances, while others, by reflex, looked toward that black "mirror." Prince Nash’s gaze also fell upon the pitch-dark surface; his eyes moved slowly across it, watching every minute change.

Just then, a streak of silver light and a phantom suddenly flickered beneath the mirror, catching his eye—that thing was blurred to the point of being utterly unidentifiable, yet it could not help but call to mind an icy "gaze."

Prince Nash Narte’s face changed in an instant. He abruptly stepped half a pace back, and barked in a rapid undertone, "Extinguish all light sources, start timing on your own!"

The next instant, all light sources within the cavern vanished, not only the faint glimmers atop the Mages’ Magic Wands, but also the rune-lights on those ancient stone slabs lining the cavern ceiling and the glowing moss in the damp corners—the Mages’ lights were clearly extinguished by deliberate will, but the light from the other places seemed as if devoured by some unseen power. The entire cavern sank into absolute darkness.

In the pitch black, every heart was pounding. Vaguely, as if from some corner, there came a faint scraping sound, and soon after it was as though footsteps broke the silence, as if a guardian had left his position and was groping his way through his companions. Then, after a while, the cavern finally grew quiet again; someone seemed to let out a long breath, and in a low voice broke that stillness: "It’s done, relight your Magic Wands."

In the darkness, no voice answered, and no faint light was kindled.

After another moment, several short, sharp screams burst from the densest cluster of guardians. Amid those cries of pain, a guardian who seemed to be struggling desperately growled, "Quick, quickly light your Magic Wands, something’s got hold of me! I’m being..."

The only reply to his shout was still darkness and deathly silence.

At last, those bizarre sounds once more faded away, and the voice of Prince Nash Narte broke the silence: "Time’s up, each of you light your Magic Wands."

The darkness still brought no reply; no light flared to life. Only some faint, long-drawn breaths sounded all around, as if muffled by thick curtains and distanced from this world. Those breaths carried a trace of tension, yet none of the voices sounded panicked—and after about ten seconds more, a sliver of faint light finally emerged in the cavern.

The first Mage guardian lit his Magic Wand; immediately afterward, the remaining guardians lifted the "darkness and silence" state. One Magic Wand after another flared, the faint glows throughout the cavern returning in turn. In that dim illumination, Prince Nash’s figure reappeared; the first thing he did was look toward the guardians, counting the faces—each slightly pale.

"We are missing one," he said suddenly, his tone low.

The guardians immediately began confirming with one another, and after a brief internal count, all their gazes settled upon a certain gap at the front of the ranks—there was an empty spot there, clearly once occupied by someone, yet the guardian belonging there was now gone.

The black-robed Mages stared tensely at that empty space, and then, all at once, faint sparks flickered into being in that emptiness. The tiny lights floated at about the height of a person, flickering on and off, at times outlining a hazy silhouette in midair, as though an invisible Mage was standing there, struggling within a darkness that belonged to him alone, striving to light his Magic Wand and to cast his own figure back into the real world’s reflection—he tried again and again, yet the sparks only grew weaker, and the outline that was occasionally lit grew ever more indistinct, ever more tenuous.

Among the black-robed Mages, someone could not help but whisper softly, "Come back... come back to this world... come back quickly... don’t give up, come back quickly..."

The last faint glimmer finally vanished, and after that it never lit up again.

Among the guardians, someone could not help but curse under his breath, the words muffled and indistinct.

"He has left," Prince Nash’s gaze lingered for a long time on the spot where that glimmer had finally disappeared, and only after several seconds of silence did he speak in a low voice, "May this honorable guardian find peace on the other side of the darkness."

The guardians lowered their heads, and with solemn grief they said in unison, "May he find peace on the other side of the darkness..."

"Notify his family as soon as possible. Send them the spare uniform and Magic Wand this guardian used in life... there must be something to bury," Prince Nash said softly. "His family will receive generous compensation; everyone shall be taken care of."

The leader of the guardians bowed. "Yes, my lord."

Nash Narte nodded, his gaze returning to the "mirror surface" at the center of the cavern. This terrifying jet-black mirror had now fallen completely still, as though all the strange phenomena that had just occurred were nothing but a dream in everyone’s minds—Prince Nash could even be certain that, even if he were to step directly onto that mirror surface at this very moment and walk upon it at will, nothing would happen.

"The turmoil is over," this "King of Mages" sighed lightly. "But I fear this great barrier is no longer so stable."

"This change must be related to what has been happening lately," the leader of the guardians could not help saying. "Gods have fallen or vanished one after another, Talronde, which had been stagnant for a million years, has suddenly broken its shackles, the Mortal Nations are in a state of unprecedented upheaval, all minds have lost their former order and stability, and restless, turbulent currents of thought are sending ripples through the deep-sea—this time the ripples are larger than ever before and are bound to spread throughout the entire deep-sea... naturally, they will inevitably disturb the dreams of the Sleeper as well."

As he spoke, this leader turned his head, his gaze tinged with tension and vigilance as he looked toward that enormous jet-black mirror surface.

"We should do something to maintain His state of slumber," another Mage guardian could not help saying.

Prince Nash Narte looked quietly at this black-robed Mage who had spoken and gently asked in return, "Why?"

"This..." The Mage guardian was taken aback for a moment, then answered somewhat blankly, "We are the guardians of this dreams..."

"We are only guarding this entrance, ensuring that evolution unfolds naturally. As for whether this dreams will continue, whether it will awaken early, under what circumstances it will change... these are not things we may interfere with. And when it comes to changes that concern the entire world, the entire era... we should all the less set our hands upon them," Prince Nash said calmly. "All of this is the natural course of history; the Violet Kingdom is nothing more than its spectator."

At this point, he gently shook his head.

"Do not underestimate this force of historical progression, and do not let an overly exalted sense of duty blind your eyes. We are nothing more than a group of gatekeeping guards."

Nash Narte turned into a wisp of smoke once more, passing again through layer upon layer of floors and through protective wards of unknown depth, until he had returned to the room on the upper levels of the towers. Bright lights appeared within his field of vision, driving away the black shadows coiling around this King of Mages—the shadows dissipated in the light as if evaporating, emitting faint sizzling sounds.

Nash came to a dark-red high-backed chair and sat there in quiet thought. He did not know how much time passed in such calm, when a light footstep suddenly sounded from behind him.

On the wall not far behind him, the surface of an oval magic mirror, more than a person in height and framed in ornate pale-gold, suddenly glimmered with light. A woman in a white court gown, exceedingly beautiful of countenance, quietly appeared in the mirror. She looked toward Prince Nash. "Your mood is heavy. Have the guardians suffered losses?"

"A very experienced guardian was lost at the border," Nash shook his head and said with a sigh. "Nothing was left behind."

"Why would such a thing happen?" The woman in the mirror showed a look of surprise. "How could an experienced guardian lose his way at the border?"

"...The mirror surface briefly slipped out of control, and the border grew indistinct. That guardian resisted all temptations and deceptions, refrained from lighting his Magic Wand in the darkness, yet when the border recovered, he did not return to the light in time, and thus failed to make his way smoothly back to our world."

The woman in the mirror fell silent, then after two seconds she sighed softly. "What a pity."

"...May he find peace on the other side of the darkness," Prince Nash said calmly.

"We both know that there is nothing on the other side of the darkness—there is only an incomparably empty dreams."

"That is the ultimate peace."