“What is it called?” Ancel asked absently, his attention still on the lake.
“An Entosis. It exists between the Planes of Existence, but is outside the influence of our time. That’s why the weather is different here than where we left, but it’s still a part of our world, of all the worlds.”
Ancel scrunched up his face. “But aren’t the Planes sealed by the Kassite? Isn’t that why creatures cannot cross into ours from the Nether, or Hydae, or any one of the other worlds?”
“Yes. They are sealed, but as I understand, if you travel deep enough into an Entosis you will encounter the Kassite itself. It can be crossed there if you’re strong enough in Mater. Some say you would need power comparable to a god.”
For a moment, Ancel searched his memory for any familiarity but drew a blank. “How come no one has ever mentioned this … Entosis … in any books I’ve read?”
“Not everything in the world can be found in a book. Only Matii of considerable power can sense, much less enter, an Entosis. I’m uncertain if even High Ashishin are strong enough.”
That would mean … For the first time, Ancel noted the absence of Galiana, Mirza, and Charra. Their horses grazed nearby.
“They’re here,” Ryne said to his unspoken question. “Well, all but Charra. They’re off gathering kinai.”
“But you said-”
“A powerful enough Matii can bring a few into an Entosis with him. Five are the most that can accompany me.”
“If that’s so why isn’t Charra here?”
Ryne took a breath. “We were being chased by Pathfinders. Charra decided to be a diversion.”
“What?”
“Don’t be too concerned,” Ryne said reassuringly. “Judging from what he is, I doubt they’re strong enough to overwhelm him. At the very least, they can’t stop him from escaping.”
The certainty in Ryne’s voice eased the tightness in Ancel’s shoulders.
“And in case you’re curious, he has more than enough power to enter an Entosis on his own. In fact, go ahead, open your senses, and take a look around you.”
Ancel did as requested. Essences spilled around him in pools, waves, and bands, thicker, richer, and more complex than anything he’d witnessed before. Some of it had the viscous consistency of blood. They spooled and dived, congealed, intertwined, and whipped about in a display of dizzying colors. It was like what he’d witnessed when he unleashed the power to summon the netherling but multiplied tenfold. He recognized many essences, but others he couldn’t begin to fathom. He gasped when swaths of shade swept by him before flying off to join the others. The movements of the essences were more akin to living creatures, frolicking and cavorting along the light breeze.
What he noticed next were the voices. He could discern those he normally heard, but they were muted in comparison to the constant susurrus of the essences here. They made no demands of him. Exactly what they said, he could not tell.
“Amazing isn’t it?”
Speechless, Ancel nodded.
“These are the primordial essences from which the ones that inhabit our world are formed. The ones you don’t recognize are completed elements. It will be some time before you can manage to Forge those, if ever.”
“What are they called?”
“Prima Materium.”
“How is it the shade is so prevalent among them?”
“Shade is a part of most things, Ancel, as is light. Because men use shade for wickedness doesn’t make it evil. It’s the intentions of those who wield it that dictate such a distinction. I know,” Ryne continued as Ancel arched a speculative eyebrow, “some would say that’s blasphemy, but it makes it no less true. Remember when I mentioned the relation between essences and emotions?”
Ancel nodded.
“Apply those same concepts to the gods. It’s the touch of the gods that give each essence its individual aspects. Ilumni’s benevolence exists in the light. Amuni’s malevolence in the shade. Bragni would be heat, passion, anger. Rituni is cold, empty, indifference and so on. We Eztezians believed that at one time the essences simply were.
“Imagine an ocean unaffected by weather or current. We think that the elements themselves were perfectly balanced and intermingled, but the presence of the gods changed all that. Yet, somehow, because the gods were opposites, they complemented each other and still provided the necessary balance and harmony. Now, man’s influence is repeating a similar process in Denestia, but with dire effects. Those are part of the differences with the essences here and outside. Think of the ones on the outside as being tainted.”
Essences drifted down, coiling around Ancel. They caressed him as they mingled with his aura. His aura. He gasped. For the first time, he was seeing it while calm. He held up his arm. In a nebulous, soft glow, it sat an inch off his skin. He tried to touch his aura, but his hand passed through. The essences seeped into it, and he could tell where it grew stronger as the luminance increased. As they drifted up his arm, they twined into his Etchings. He became aware of each stroke, each line, as if an artist carved the drawings into his skin at that moment. Wide-eyed, he glanced up at Ryne. The giant man was smiling.
“This is the secret of the Etchings. As far as I know, they’re the only way to harness Prima Materium inside an Entosis and carry it outside. You can then call on Prima’s essences at will. To a lesser extent, the Etchings will filter the tainted counterparts outside in the world, but eventually you will need to return here to replenish.”
As more and more Prima entered his Etchings, a sense of incredible power seeped into Ancel. It was like being at sea, thrust under wave after wave, barely able to gasp for air between each one. He felt as if he could accomplish anything. His back arched, and for a moment, he couldn’t think as the power suffused him. When the effect subsided, he heard Ryne continue.
“What you feel now is a mere pittance compared to what you will possess as you gain more Etchings. That is why you must master the one you already possess. And to master them requires that you know the Tenets.”
“The Tenets?” Ancel was still trying to piece together all Ryne had just revealed. To think more existed was daunting. Had he missed this much in neglecting his classes at the Mystera?
“They are a set of rules, if you will, that govern the essences. They are interpreted differently by many. For us, they’re a connection to the Prima essences residing within your Etchings. With the Tenets, you can summon their full power.
“When the gods initially created us, our jobs were to defend Denestia first, help those who couldn’t help themselves, and to build the world into something greater. When the netherlings added the Etchings, they gave us more. The power to destroy, to judge those we found to have broken the balance in the world, including the gods themselves.” Ryne paused.
“You sound like a greater version of the Pathfinders.”
“In ways but we’re much more.”
When he’d read the histories of the Eztezians during classes, Ancel often asked why they did the things they had. How was it that Mater could have overwhelmed such powerful men and women? But now, he understood. The entire world looking up to you, expecting you to save them from every disaster, every plague, every war, from famine and starvation, worshipping you almost as if you were a god. All the while, the Eztezians knew the eventual effects wielding Mater would have. Such responsibility placed on the shoulders of a finite group of people. No wonder they folded under such a burden.
“By your expression, I can see you understand our plight. It’s yours now, too.”
The words came as a shock to Ancel. He’d never thought of it that way. This entire time, he’d considered himself as someone with a talent, yes, but not as an Eztezian. Well, wasn’t that what you were being trained for? To become one of them? How do I handle all this? He could barely manage his emotions concerning Irmina, much less the near overwhelming situation with his mother and his father.