Michael expected to wake up as the vision ended, but instead he found himself pulled into yet another one, his mind barely having time to finish processing what he had learned from the previous one before he was sucked into the next.

…

In the dead of night Sylas walked around the spell apparatus they had spent the last several months constructing. It was not just a simple spell circle. Instead they'd built a dome and within that dome they'd dug out the bottom to create a perfect sphere within. The sphere was covered from end to end with runes, intersecting circles of powerful energies, and dozens of slots and indents for different reagents.

It hadn't been his work alone, as thanks to the Emperor he now had access to dozens of lesser mages. They were competent enough at spellcraft and ritual to help him, but their true value would be when he was able to add their magicka to his own during the ritual itself. The Title he'd arrived with Lifeater let him consume their magicka and make it his own. He'd used it to build strength since he'd arrived, seeing from the start that magic would be the key to returning home. He hoped his wife could still love him in the form he was in. Hoped his daughter would recognize him by his manner if not his face.

He shook his head as he checked the fourth row of runes for the third time.

"You are close," said a now-familiar voice from the ceiling.

Sylas looked up to see the Creature hanging from the ceiling. It was the same size it had always been, and crawled carefully along the smooth surface as it got nearer to him.

"Soon, we shall make it home."

"Yes," said Sylas, double-checking a rune his hand was resting on. Any excuse not to look at the horrid creature.

"The barrier has weakened more. The continued assasination attempts against you have been as much a boon as the increased resources from the Emperor," the creature seemed to put a lot of emphasis on the word Emperor as it spoke.

"We may have been able to break through anyway," replied Sylas. He wasn't comfortable with the church's reaction to what he was doing and he was even less comfortable with the emperor's reaction. They'd already been on the decline with the arrival of takers like himself. The Titles and Deeds were a great boon to their people and the world, but few thought it was worth the price of their children and their promises that it would end with enough worship and devotion rung hollow. With the emperor coming down on them as well they may not even be a church soon. Though, that was for his benefit as well he supposed.

"Yes, but without weakening the gods it would take much more effort. You'd burn out before you could ever see your wife again."

That or she'd die. She was safe when I left, but the conquerors have been weakening. Without the stability they provide…

He turned sharply as he heard a scratching noise and saw the Creature tinkering with a rune.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"The line was missing an indent here," indicated the creature.

Sylas looked, but had difficulty noticing the change. "Don't touch the apparatus. It needs to be perfect to work. For both of us."

The creature shrugged. "Magic works based on your perception and focus here. It's not as if I can influence your spell."

That was true, but Sylas didn't like how the Creature said it.

The Creature buzzed a bit as its wings carried it to the exit. "Get some rest. We will break the barrier between worlds tomorrow."

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…

Sylas was wearing a ceremonial blue robe covered in stars and symbols of the three moons along with a small circlet. The Titles on the items were much more powerful than the hat and robe he'd left at his manor, but he found that he missed his usual attire in the moment. There were several things he wished he'd be able to take with him when he left, but he knew he would only arouse suspicion if he had a dozen crates right by the apparatus ready to move.

His fingers twitched as he stood watching the Emperor speak. His presence was commanding and his power undeniable, but he had much to learn about how to address a crowd. He wore a crown of solid gold encrusted with jewels and a fine outfit of nearly pure white with silver and gold patterns threaded throughout it.

"-travel from one corner of the Empire in the blink of an eye. A food shortage in the East will no longer mean starving as we wait for wheat from the west. A soldier can visit his family at the end of a hard campaign with no travel in between. A man born in a village will never have to live a life without ever seeing the beauty of our capital. With what is done today, Hume shall rise to greater heights than ever before!"

There was a round of raucous applause as the Emperor finished speaking. Those in attendance included the entirety of the nobility of the capital as well as most of the provincial lords and ladies. There were a few not in attendance to keep things running, but the thought was once this portal was up a number of them would have their returns home cut in half. The first portal was meant to be a constant connection from Hume to The northernmost tip of the empire. Of course, that wasn't actually to be, but it was a good idea. A system of portals would've been ingenious, and likely would've given the Emperor exactly what he wanted, but the rule of this world since Sylas had arrived was that people didn't get what they wanted. Why should the Emperor be any different?

The Emperor gestured for Sylas to move and he entered the center of the apparatus. There were three mages inside with him, and twenty on the outside. All of them were chosen for the sheer volume of magic they had within themselves. He'd been teaching a number of them how to coil their magicka channels, but that was for his own benefit of course.

Back at his estate on the lake there was a matching apparatus, with even more mages he'd managed to acquire, chained to the walls where the runes and reagents were mirror of this one. While the portal would open at the capital, the mirror would allow all that power to reflect and increase once it bounced back to him.

As he reached the center he held the spear with both of his hands and began to chant. He spoke the language of his conquerors, as he always did when he did magic. The phrase was generally the same as when he started, but more refined, and more exact. It gave him more time to bring all of his magicka to bear, and for those other mages to do the same.

The runes that surrounded them began to glow and shimmer as the mercury sealed within each of them began to roll and boil. The offerings of transitional objects began to crackle and burn, and more magicka than Hume had ever seen began to roll and roil all around him. When he could feel the full commitment of magicka from the mages around him, he extended his will and grabbed onto it. There was a collective grimace and shock on the faces of all of the other mages as he took hold of them. They tried to stop casting, to cease their magicka from building, but he didn't allow it and so the spell continued to build even as the magicka was carved out from them. Those bound at his estate began to scream, their cries unheard by the servant staff that continued to mill about.

The magicka in the air around him became physical. It created a kind of swirling barrier of light, sound, and color that enveloped the air. He began to raise his spear and as he did so all of that magicka that surrounded him began to shrink and compress. He could feel the first of the mages begin to fall as he spoke, their bodies hollow husks with nothing left within them. The magicka began to compress more and more, concentrating on the tip of his spear. The color of it faded as it compressed. Soon it was the size of a fist, then a knucklebone, then a pea, and finally it was just a pinprick at the tip of his spear. A dot with enough power to destroy a city, shatter a mountain, or dry a sea. He felt as the other mages died, both there and hundreds of miles away. He could see the eyes of the three around him bleeding as they fell and began convulsing before going still.

He closed his eyes and thought of his wife, her auburn hair blowing in the wind off the long fields that surrounded them. His daughter giggling as the goats butted lightly against her. The smells, tastes, and sights of home. They were the last part of his spell.

He felt the magic begin to approach from the other site. He pulled the spear back and stabbed it into the air in front of himself, and felt it collide with something.

He opened his eyes to see the Creature at the tip of his spear. Its yellow blood spilled across the blade of his spear as it smiled at him even with that bead of magic buried deep within its body.

"You will never see them. You've doomed this world for nothing. Think of me. Think of my yellow blood as it flows down your speartip. Think of where I came from. Think of my world."

At that moment, Sylas lost control of the spell.

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