Page 50 of Cerulean Truth
And so we walked for about fifteen minutes, during which I admired the tropical birds in flight, colorful butterflies and other winged insects.
When I first spotted the river, I gasped at its sight. It became immediately clear this was no ordinary body of water. The strong current was unmistakable, evident in the way it rushed and churned with powerful force. Submerged rocks added toits turbulent nature, lurking just below the surface, ready to challenge any attempt to navigate. The presence of angry fish-like creatures completed its deterrent effect.
"We now follow this river, which will lead us into Cyclos."
We continued walking for another ten minutes until we reached a fork in the river. I looked up and saw it branching off farther in the distance.
"I think we should take to the air for a quick overview so you can see how Cyclos is positioned in relation to this waterway," Stephen said thoughtfully. Without awaiting my response, he took my hand, and within seconds, we were airborne.
"Can you see it?" he asked.
Wow, flying wasawesome. While I had felt terrified on the swings, levitating with Stephen was unbelievably cool. I was mesmerized by the view. I observed the beginnings of what seemed to be an ancient city, encircled not by walls but by this untamed river, which served as a natural boundary. I didn't spot any bridges or crossings, realizing that traversing the water itself was probably the final layer of defense.
"The Third Layer of protection is provided by this river. Can you guess what it guards Cyclos against?"
“People who can’t swim?” I tried to joke.
Stephen smiled indulgently, but I could tell it was a sympathy-smile. Clearly, I wasn't about to win any awards for stand-up comedy anytime soon.
"Oasis, or more precisely, this river, keeps out magi who might have good intentions but who are without clearance. Inhabitants of Cyclos have clearance to portal in, and Specialists like me, with diplomatic immunity, have it as well. So, for us, the Layers are mainly there for their wonder. But for others... well, all I'll say is, good luck getting into Cyclos without clearance," he smirked, then lowered us back to the ground.
Once my feet were firmly planted on the earth again, I asked Stephen, "So, how do we cross the river and enter the city?"
Stephen began, "Well, my dear, Emma, in order to do so, I must elaborate once more on a little piece of magi theory. I know your head must be spinning by now, so this will be the last piece of information I'll share with you today. Has James mentioned anything about your energy signature?"
I shook my head; it wasn't a familiar term.
"An energy signature is somewhat like a fingerprint, but it's embedded in our DNA. It's what makes us traceable in the Human World. As I explained earlier, within the Metasphere, our energy integrates with the sphere, so it holds no specific relevance, except for when it comes to this river. To cross, we must project our energy into the water, essentially leaving our signature there. The river will recognize it and form a path to the edge of Cyclos, where an archway will appear for us to enter. Can you guess my concerns at this point?" he asked.
I ventured a guess, " I may not have an energy signature, as my magic can't be traced?"
Stephen smiled and nodded, saying, "Very good, Emma. You have a keen mind. Well, there's no time like the present to find out."
He projected his energy into the water, and exactly as he had predicted, a path formed. I tried to copy him but nothing happened. If I had to be scared for my life every time I had to translate, this was going to be a long year.
"You don't have to translate, Emma," Stephen reassured me. "Simply throw something into the river which carries your DNA. If it's linked to an energy signature, the path will form."
I paused, contemplating my next move. Spitting wouldn't have been very ladylike, and I was keen on maintaining the illusion of any elegance I might possess for as long as possible. So, instead of spitting, I delicately plucked a hair from my head.
Pressure mounted as we waited. I had done as Stephen instructed, casting my hair into the water, hoping for the same miraculous path he had conjured with ease. But as seconds turned to minutes, the river remained still, undisturbed by my feeble offering. My heart raced, doubt creeping in, threatening to shatter my newfound hope.
Stephen's confident demeanor faltered just a fraction, mirroring the unease which now gnawed at me. He glanced at the unmoving river, his brows furrowed in contemplation. Thus we waited.
FOURTEEN
JAMES
I had returned from my daily shower when the drops of my Nexus formed a Maria-shaped head, flooding my senses with urgency. "James, we have an update on the Resistants. Can you come in for a Council meeting today?" she asked rather rapidly.
"Sure," I confirmed. "What time do we convene?"
"In an hour," she commanded, and off she went. She was not a woman of many words.
An hour later, I was sitting in my familiar chair in theBasilica. The Basilica held many rooms, each more beautiful than the last. The rooms were all equipped with more books than one could read in a lifetime, which were paved against the walls going all the way up to the ceiling, as if every room could double as a library.
The room I found myself in was centered around a fountain, a cool lifesaver in the scorching summer heat. During winter, the fountain turned into a crackling fireplace, pumping out much-needed warmth during the freezing cold.
In the back of the room stood a huge clock, set to go off at the start of every meeting and at the end.
