Rhodes went to speak with Balin, and Serie, with the spatial coordinates from her mory, began to construct a complex magic circle in the air, a bridge to the ancient teleportation anchor point in the Kingdom of Ersten. They worked with a swift and practiced efficiency, and did not bother to hide their actions from Flam. She was no longer the naive and ignorant little girl who had once followed them around. She understood.
And as she listened to their conversation, a storm was brewing in her own heart.
A large-scale teleportation circle, from long ago.
Two hundred years...
An impression that had lasted two hundred years.
The key words were like puzzle pieces, and they were all coming together in her mind.
Two hundred years. He had t that great demon, Shurahat, two hundred years ago. And her own teacher had said that he had left a deep impression on him, so deep that even after two hundred years, a re glimpse of him was enough to scare him to death.
How could a human live for two hundred years?
Unless... he wasn't a normal human.
She felt as if she couldn't breathe. A suspicion, a thought that she had long since buried, a thought she had not dared to entertain... it was now a sprouting seedling, and it was growing at an alarming rate.
In an age long since passed, an age so old that even the history books were now a blur, there had been a hero of humanity. The most ancient of human mages, the first Great Sage, a being with a power that was beyond mortal comprehension, a power that could even stand against a god. And he had, with his own hands, with a mortal body, slain that god.
His na... was Rhodes.
She looked at him, at his back, and all the pieces fell into place.
The way he knew so much about the ancient past, about lost and forgotten magic. The way he spoke of a past that was far beyond the scope of a human life. The way he wielded a power that belied his youthful appearance. The way the legendary elven mage, Serie, was so close to him. There was only one answer.
He... was the god-slayer himself, the hero who was thought to have been lost to the river of ti.
Her suspicion was now a certainty, and though she had been prepared for it, she still took a small, involuntary step back. Her heart was pounding in her chest, a drumbeat of a pure and simple joy, the joy of a fan who has co face to face with her idol. She now understood. The feeling of him being... out of place, out of ti... it wasn't her imagination.
"Flam?" his voice pulled her back to the present.
"Yes, Teacher Rhodes!" she said, and forced herself to be calm.
"The teleportation circle is almost ready. It will be your first ti. You might feel a heavy pressure. Use your own magic to protect yourself." He had not noticed the turmoil in her heart. His own attention was now completely focused on the circle.
"I understand," she said with a firm nod. No matter who he is, she thought, he is my teacher, the one I trust most in this world. And I will follow him, wherever he goes.
In the central square of the city, a small magic circle, only two ters in diater, had been drawn. It was enough for the three of them. And now that the connection to the other side had been established, all that was left was to pour in the mana.
The dwarven lord, Balin, was there, with the mages he had hired. They were all pouring their own mana into the circle, though it was but a drop in the ocean for such a large-scale spell. But it helped.
Rhodes stepped into the center of the circle and, taking Org's scabbard in his hands, he reached out with his mind and touched the holy relic that was at its core.
A massive wave of magical energy, a wave that made the very space around them ripple, now flowed from the scabbard and into the circle. And at its touch, the circle burst into a brilliant light. He and Serie then added their own mana to the mix, filling the last of the empty space. And then, a great and stable vortex of magical energy appeared at the center of the circle, a swirling gateway to another place.
"It's stable," she said.
He could feel the power of the scabbard being drawn out, a massive amount, but far from all of it. He was relieved.
The girl stood a short distance away, her own staff now held tightly in her hand, a small, shimring barrier around her body. The sheer power of the spell... it was breathtaking.
"Let's go," she commanded.
He gave the dwarven lord one last nod of thanks, and then, without a mont's hesitation, he stepped into the light.
She followed, and then the girl, and with a flash of light, they were gone.
The grand and complex magic circle slowly faded, leaving only a series of dim and lifeless runes on the ground, the only proof of what had just happened.
The dwarven lord stood for a long, long ti, and then, in a voice filled with a deep and abiding reverence, he said, "May your journey be a safe one."
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