As always, the Gate anchors were two large boulders.
Travelers Gate #512486321595
Destination: Rock
Status: Unintegrated
Threat Level: Nonexistent
“That’s a new one,” I said, squinting at the information.
“What do you an?” Al asked, stepping closer to touch the Gate.
“It’s unintegrated, so I understand the lack of mana level,” I explained, pointing to the Gate, “but where is the tech level? Also, the threat level is... weird.”
“I saw it before,” Mahya said, waving her hand toward the Gate. “It ans the world is pretty backward. I think a world gains the tech level category when they reach the Industrial Revolution. This world didn’t get there yet.”
“So, it’s like in the Middle Ages?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“What is the Middle Ages?” Al asked.
“A period in Earth’s history that was backward.”
He nodded, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
“It can be anything from cave dwellers or a farming society to right on the cusp of the Industrial Revolution,” Mahya clarified.
“Oh, got it.” I reached toward the Gate again to read the world’s info.
Before I could touch it, Mahya grabbed my wrist and stopped . “Do you want to add the Gate to our count and move on, or look around a bit?” she asked.
“Look around,” I said after a mont, pulling my hand back. “I’m curious to see various worlds.”
She smiled and said, “So let’s do it my way this ti. No spoilers.”
“You an to go blind without knowing what is on the other side?” Al asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Yes.” Mahya gave him a challenging look, crossing her arms. “I think reading the world’s info ruins the sense of exploration, which is half the fun. Besides, the threat level is ‘Nonexistent,’ so it’s not like we’ll be in danger from not knowing.”
Al and I exchanged a glance, his hesitance mirroring my own. After a mont, I shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
He nodded, though his expression remained cautious. “Neither do I.”
We turned invisible and crossed the Gate. After less than a minute, every cell in my body scread in protest that this place was WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! A wave of nausea slamd into , making my stomach churn as though I had just stepped off a violently rocking boat. My skin prickled, every nerve firing in protest as if I had walked into an invisible wall of static. I tried taking deep breaths to calm the feeling, but it didn’t help. My lungs burned, and every fiber in my body revolted, screaming to retreat. There was a sucking sensation, like sothing was forcibly wrenched out of through every pore on my body.
Rue whined and pressed against my side, nearly toppling over.
Everybody beca visible.
“I did not miss this feeling,” Mahya said, her voice tight as if she were forcing herself to stay composed.
Al bent down, his hands braced on his knees, his face pale and drawn. He took slow, deliberate breaths, his words clipped with discomfort. “I hate this feeling,” he muttered before turning his head toward Mahya. “Help John; he is new to this, and with his Tri-mana system, it affects him the most.”
The revolt in my body had turned into a sharp, relentless pain in every cell. My muscles ached as if cramping all at once, and my bones felt like they were vibrating, on the verge of cracking. It was strange. I had used the dead zone in my house a few tis, and the sensation was terrible, unsettling, and unnatural—but it had never been this bad. This was ten tis worse, as though the world was rejecting my existence, but also sucking the life out of .
Mahya placed her hand on my back and asked, “Do you know how to circulate your mana?”
I shook my head. Speaking was beyond .
She grabbed my arm and guided back through the Gate to Zindor.
Once we were on the other side, the feeling disappeared instantly. One mont, I felt terrible. The next, normal. The sudden shift left disoriented, as though my body wasn’t sure whether it should trust this newfound stability.
“What was that?” I asked, my voice still shaky. “When I activated the dead zone in my house, I felt bad without mana, but it wasn’t even close to that.”
“It’s your body trying to balance itself with the world,” Mahya said, her tone matter-of-fact.
“I apologize for not considering that earlier,” Al said, his expression tightening with regret. “It should have been obvious that this would be your first world without mana, but it slipped my mind.”
“I’ve been in zero mana before, and it didn’t feel that bad. Why now?” I asked, frustrated.
“When?” Mahya asked, tilting her head.
“There were so Gates in South Arica that led to zero mana, and one Gate we crossed together. I think it was in Italy or maybe Spain.”
“When did you cross the Gates in South Arica?” she asked, frowning.
“About six or eight months after discovering I’m a Gate Traveler.”
“Oh,” she said, her tone softening. “Your mana system probably wasn’t developed yet, so the effect was minimal. I rember the other Gate; it was in Italy. And we were in and out in less than a minute while you were busy complaining that it didn’t make sense. You did ntion that it felt off.”
“Yeah, but not this bad,” I said, shaking my head.
“You can’t compare your mana system to what it was then,” Mahya said. “It’s much more developed now, and we just crossed from a world with much higher mana.”
“How do I deal with it?” I asked, rubbing the back of my neck. “I want to visit sci-fi worlds, but if it feels like this, I won’t be able to handle it.”
“No mana bad!” Rue whined, his ears twitching in agitation. “Rue not like no mana.”
“As I said, you need to circulate your mana to combat it,” Mahya said, her tone firm.
“How?”
“I have only one orb, not three, so I’m unsure if it’s the sa,” Mahya admitted, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Anyway, I move the mana from my orb down my right hand, then up back into the orb. The sa down my left arm. Then, down the main body channel to the right leg, back up to the orb, and then the second leg. I keep this circulation going all the ti.” She paused, her eyes flicking to . “The first ti I learned this, the circulation stopped when I was asleep, but with so practice, you can keep it going even in your sleep.”
“I do sothing similar,” Al said. “With a slight variation for a dual-mana system. I circulate the mana the sa down the arms, down to my Spirit orb, and from there to the legs. Back up to the Mind orb and start all over.” He gave an encouraging nod.
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“I thought only wizards could move mana at will,” I said, furrowing my brow as I tried to process this new information.
“Outside of the body, yes,” Al replied, his tone didactic. “Everybody can move mana inside their bodies. Or, more precisely, everybody that has power orbs.”
“Why did it feel so bad?” I asked, glancing between Mahya and Al, my stomach tightening at the mory of the sensation.
“Because the world is forcefully sucking out your mana,” Al said with a grimace. It was clear the idea disgusted him as much as it did .
I shuddered, the thought sending a cold ripple down my spine. That didn’t sound good—at all.
“What about our cores?” I asked, concerned. “Will the world suck the mana out of them too?”
“Most likely,” Mahya said. “But your core devoured so many dungeons that I’m sure it has a mana supply for years to co. Don’t worry.” She offered a small, reassuring smile before continuing. “The other cores will eventually run out and dim if we use our toys, but once we return to a world with mana, they’ll recharge quickly. Like I said, don’t worry.”
I followed Al’s advice, adding the third orb to the rotation. From the Mind orb to the hands, down to the Spirit orb, down to the Body orb, to the legs, and back up again. My mana obeyed, flowing precisely as I directed it.
After a second, an idea struck : I split my mind in two. One part continued to flow mana in the sa pattern, and the other part remained free for everything else.
“How’s it going?” I asked Rue, glancing at him as he wagged his tail.
“Easy,” he replied, his tone confident.
“Can you keep doing this even if you have to do sothing else?”
His ears drooped. “Rue not sure.”
I scratched behind his ear. “Try splitting your mind in two.”
“How?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Just decide and force it,” I said with a shrug.
After a minute of concentration, Rue huffed and growled softly. “Oww, oww, it hard.”
“Did you do it?”
He nodded. “It hard,” he whined, his tail giving a small, uncertain wag.
“It will get easier, promise,” I said, reaching out to scratch behind his ear. His tail wagged a little more enthusiastically, even as he huffed in frustration.
The next ti crossing the Gate was better, but the sensation remained deeply unpleasant. The air felt thin, empty, almost anemic, as though sothing essential was missing. But I didn’t feel nauseous, and my body wasn’t rebelling as it had before.
Stopping the circulation brought the horrible feeling back with force. It slamd into like a reminder of how unnatural this place was. Restarting the flow helped, but this ti the relief ca slowly, taking minutes to settle.
I finally understood why Al had bent over, his hands on his knees. Sohow, that position eased the sensation until the circulation fully kicked in.
“How co you’re less affected?” I asked Mahya.
She shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“That’s because she only has one orb,” Al said, straightening. “I have two, so I’m more affected. You have three, so it affects you the hardest.”
“How do you know that?” Mahya asked him.
“My family’s archive,” Al replied, his tone smug. “I have read a lot about it.”
Now that my body didn’t feel like it was rebelling against , I could finally look at my surroundings. Two large rocks flanked a footpath, their rough surfaces weathered and uneven. The path itself was narrower than a dirt road but wider than a ga trail, well-trodden with patches of grass creeping along its edges. On either side, a sparse grove of trees stretched out. It wasn’t dense enough to be a forest; the trees were thin and spaced far apart, their bare branches twisting upward like skeletal fingers pointing at the sky.
The footpath extended in one direction with a gentle descent, curving slightly as it disappeared into the distance. It passed between the two Gate rocks in the opposite direction and climbed upward at a mild incline. The air carried a crisp chill—not enough to freeze, but sharp enough to bite at exposed skin.
The sky above was a vivid blue with white fluffy clouds. At first, it seed normal, but then sothing unusual caught my eye. Two suns hung in the sky. The larger one glowed to the left and slightly behind , its light casting long, thin shadows from the trees. The smaller sun was far to the right, dimr and cooler in hue, adding a faint silver tint to the landscape.
We put on jackets and looked around so more.
“Up or down?” I asked.
“It doesn’t really matter,” Mahya said with a shrug.
Rue lifted his nose in the air and sniffed. “Rue not know.”
Al turned without a word and headed down the path, his strides purposeful. Descending gently, the narrow trail curved slightly between the sparse, bare trees. The crunch of our boots against the dirt path was the only sound for a while, accompanied by Rue’s soft panting as he trotted beside . The chill in the air hadn’t eased, though it wasn’t unpleasant as long as we kept moving.
The twin suns hung above us, one brighter and to the left, while the smaller one sat further right, giving the light a strange dual quality. Shadows fell at odd angles, overlapping in a way that felt subtly off, but not unsettling.
We kept walking for what felt like half an hour, the path winding gradually downhill. The trees grew thinner as we went, their bare branches giving way to more open ground. Patches of grass appeared, scattered along the trail’s edges, and the grove slowly changed into a wide clearing.
Ahead of us, a large lake ca into view. Its surface was perfectly still, so clear that it reflected the towering, jagged peaks on the far side like a mirror. The rocks were sharp-edged and uneven, rising high above the water like the remnants of so ancient, shattered monunt. Their sheer size and starkness made stop montarily, taking in the view.
The grass along the shoreline was sparse but vivid green, contrasting with the pale, bare trees that still dotted the area behind us. Scattered boulders lay across the ground to the lake’s right; so were half-buried in the dirt, while others leaned precariously against each other.
The two suns hung above the peaks, their light glinting off the water in a way that made it almost impossible to tell where the lake ended and the sky began. I crouched near the water’s edge and dipped my fingers in. The water was icy but not freezing, and so clear I could see every stone resting undisturbed at the bottom, their shapes and colors sharp beneath the surface.
Standing back up, I took another look around. The whole place felt untouched, pristine, like no one had been here for centuries. I pulled out my cara, adjusted the lens, and snapped a picture. The view was too perfect not to capture, though I doubted any photo could do it justice.
We lingered by the lake for another ten or fifteen minutes, quietly taking in the scenery. It was one of those rare monts where no one needed to fill the silence.
Finally, Mahya turned, her movents unhurried, and started back up the trail. “Let’s see what’s on the other end,” she called over her shoulder.
We retraced our steps up the path, heading back toward the rocks that marked the Gate. The landscape felt just as quiet and still as when we had first passed through. As we stepped between the stones of the Gate, we crossed back into Zindor, the shift imdiate and familiar.
“I was afraid this would happen,” Al said.
We crossed the Gate again. This ti, instead of walking between the rocks, we moved around them to approach the trail from the opposite direction.
We continued up the path for another ten minutes when distant voices reached us. We stopped to listen, but the voices were too far away to make out any words. They sounded sharp and loud, like an argunt or perhaps just a spirited conversation. Without hesitation, I paid the mana to learn the local language. I could feel the others around doing the sa.
As we moved forward, the shadows of figures appeared between the trees, flickering in and out of sight. Monts later, four people stepped onto the path ahead of us. They walked with a wary confidence, their movents asured but tense. Three n and one woman, all draped in mismatched furs. They hadn’t sewn the furs into proper clothing; instead, they hung loosely, tied together with thin leather strips that left gaps for the cold air to slip through.
They wrapped their feet in crude leather strips, bound tightly around their ankles like makeshift shoes. Their hair was knotted into thick dreadlocks, decorated with small bones and bits of stone that clicked faintly when they moved.
Two of the n gripped clubs that looked like heavy branches crudely carved to give them heft. The third man held a spear that imdiately caught my eye. The shaft was uneven, and the tip appeared to be a sharpened rock tied to the wood with strips of leather. It wasn’t straight, but it looked functional enough to do damage.
The woman held a sling, and as they approached, they shouted sothing I couldn’t understand yet. Their voices were harsh and guttural, as if they were trying to make themselves sound more intimidating.
Before any of us could respond, the woman raised her sling. With practiced ease, she slipped a smooth stone into the pocket, swung it overhead in a tight arc, and released. The stone shot toward Rue, who had taken a cautious step back, his head low and his ears pulled back.
Mahya leaped forward, her hand snapping out faster than I could track, catching the stone mid-flight. The sharp smack of rock against her palm echoed in the still air. She didn’t flinch, her face calm as she lowered her hand.
The group froze for a mont, their eyes wide with shock. Then, without another word, they turned and bolted up the path, their voices rising in frantic shouts as they disappeared back into the trees.
This ti, I caught one word—"Danger."
“Friendly,” I said dryly, watching their retreating figures disappear into the trees. Their movents were quick but chaotic, more like a startled herd fleeing a predator than anything resembling a disciplined group. Whatever they thought of us, it was clear we hadn’t made a great first impression.
“Savages,” Al muttered, his tone clipped.
“Return to the Gate, or continue?” Mahya asked, turning to with a raised eyebrow, her expression calm despite what had just happened.
“Continue, of course,” I said, with a hint of excitent creeping into my voice. “It’s like seeing history in the making. I feel like an anthropologist.”
Mahya shook her head and gave a light slap on the back of my head. “You’re an idiot."
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