Lucian watched her in stunned silence. The sheer weight of that sentence almost made him laugh. End magic?

  “You must be joking.”

  “I’m not,” the Oracle said. “I’ve waited here untold years for one strong enough to bear the Orb. One who might potentially be the Chosen. I may never get another chance.”

  “What about Linus and Plato?” Lucian asked. “You know about them, right?”

  “Yes. But I also sensed that they would not be able to bear it. Linus is close to using magic. Plato is the same, and neither is strong enough to bear the Orbs. I sensed all that, and more. Of course, you are not without your weaknesses. And what I ask may be impossible, regardless. But if no one tries, then we are doomed to repeat the past. The Starsea Cycle will continue until the stars burn out and the universe is nothing but a cold, dark void. For more than a million years, I’ve waited for one worthy to come. But I will not grant you the Orb unless you agree to find them all. You must commit to completing the work none of us could accomplish.”

  Lucian shuddered at the mere thought that he might have to do this. He didn’t know enough. He wasn’t strong enough. It was too much of a burden.

  “I don’t know where the other Orbs even are. And who’s to say the other Oracles will be willing to give their Orbs to me? What if the others don’t want magic to end?”

  “Relinquishing the orb is the only way they can pass on to the Light Realm,” she said. “That is sealed by the magic of the pact we swore long ago. If they cannot give it to you, there is likely no one to whom they can give it."

  “Pass. You mean, die.”

  She sighed. “We mages exist in both Light and Shadow. When our minds pass out of the Shadow Realm, our Focus remains in the Light Realm. That is where I will go as soon as my work here is done. I’ve only abided so long because I refused to give my Orb to anyone unless I was certain they could accomplish the work. Like me, the others will sense your power. You must make them understand if they refuse to give you their Orbs.”

  “But how would I even begin finding them? I can’t expect to stumble upon them all accidentally as I did here.”

  “The Oracles built their shrines all across Starsea. In places far and places wide. In places cold and places hot. Indeed, some do not wish for the Orbs to be destroyed like me, Lucian. Perhaps most. Some wish for the rise of a new Immortal Emperor, a new Time of Legends, in the hope that, by the new Immortal’s power and magic, the new Immortal might revive them.”

  “Is such a thing possible?”

  “Who’s to say?” the Oracle asked. “But that was never meant to be. Perhaps with all Seven Orbs, there is magic enough to reverse death, to reverse a Focus that’s faded into the Light Realm itself. But such a thing would not stop the Starsea Cycle. It would only stop it for as long as the Chosen drew breath. Even the Immortal Emperor of Starsea fell at the height of his empire’s glory.”

  “I see,” Lucian said, though he wasn’t sure he did.

  “From the time an Orb is found, it is only a matter of time before magic lays waste to the species that uncovered the Orbs. As such, I don’t know how much time is left. But there is someone out there who has obtained at least one of the Orbs.”

  “Another Chosen, then.”

  The Oracle nodded. “There is only one Chosen, Lucian. It could be that this person is the Chosen, as you say, and you are not. In the end, the Chosen is the one who has the strength to gather the Seven Orbs. Nothing more or less.”

  “Then why not wait for that other Chosen to find you?”

  “I don’t know if that Chosen will find me,” the Oracle said. “And I don’t know what they plan to do with the Orb they have already found. Remember, a single Orb does not grant eternal life, only longevity and unlimited, pure ether of that Aspect. Only possession of all grants immortality.”

  This had gone too far. “Well, I can’t do this. I am an exile of the Volsung Academy. I’m the least qualified of all to do this.”

  Lucian looked at that Orb and again felt the desire to own it. Would it be possible to accept this Oracle’s mission, but still follow the path of his choosing? The idea of the mission was laughably impossible. All of this was so outlandish. How could it be true? How could he even be sure of her motivations?

  “I can’t.”

  “If not you, then who?”

  Who indeed? Transcend White? Too old, despite her power. The Oracle had already rejected Plato and Linus. He thought of Vera, but she too was old, like her sister. Even with the power of one of the Orbs, how long might it stretch her life? Lucian didn’t know the answer to that. What he did know was that an Orb-bearer was out there somewhere, an Orb-bearer who may or may not be the Chosen this Oracle was talking about.

  Lucian couldn’t help but wonder what unlimited ether in the Aspect of Binding would allow him to do. A great many things, but he still needed the knowledge, and he was still restricted by certain rules of magic, such as having to see an object in the first place to be able to bind it. That made crossing the ocean an impossibility. Holding the Orb would be an awesome boon to be sure, but not something that would give him limitless power.

  He could refuse the Oracle and stay on this island for the rest of his life. But he didn’t want that outcome. The only other option was to take the Orb of Binding and escape in the only way he knew how: allowing the shuttle to take him to Psyche. There might be new opportunities there, opportunities that could not be imagined from his position here.

  He was out of options. The only option that gave him any sort of freedom was accepting the Orb, along with the Oracle’s mandate to destroy it, as impossible as that seemed.

  “You never explained how I end magic itself,” Lucian said. “It seems you don’t want me to take all these Orbs and become a new Immortal Emperor. I don’t think I want that, either. I can’t imagine a worse fate than having to live forever. I assume it’s not as simple as breaking these Orbs as soon as I find them."

  She shook her head. “That’s impossible. All Seven must be found . . . and they must be taken to the Heart of Creation.” She cradled the Orb in both hands, almost protectively. “Where creation began, magic must end.”

  Lucian almost turned around and left right there. The Heart of Creation? What did that even mean?

  “The Manifold in the Light Realm and the reality we live in, the Shadow Realm, came into being at the same moment. You must return to the point where it happened, the Heart of Creation. It is from where the Orbs originated, and it is to where they must be taken. That is the physical path into the Light Realm, the only path that is possible.”

  “The Heart of Creation? You mean where the Big Bang happened, or something?”

  “The very center of everything, yes.”

  This was only getting more insane by the minute. Lucian could have left long ago. And yet, he wanted to hear what she had to say. He couldn't stop himself from listening.

  “How? So, I get the Orbs by some miracle, and by some other miracle, I make it to this Heart of Creation. Then what?”

  “There is a Gate. The First Gate. And through that Gate is the Heart of Creation, the entrance to the Light Realm itself, from where the Aspects of Magic came. If you return the Orbs there, then the connection between the Light Realm and Shadow will be broken. Magic will end. Forever.”

  “Yes, but how do I even get there? The universe is so vast I wouldn’t make it in a single lifetime. Not in a billion lifetimes, probably.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “The First Gate lies not in the actual Heart of the Universe. It merely leads you directly there. And at the Heart lies the entrance to the Light Realm itself.”

  “Okay . . . I think I see what you mean. So, where is this First Gate, then?”

  “It lies deep in Dark Space. The exact location has been lost, even to our kind.”

  “Dark Space?”

  “The abode of the Alkasen.”

  This was becoming more impossible by the minute. Lucian didn’t have the heart to even protest.

  “The Alkasen are the death knell. When magic awakens, so do they. And when magic sleeps, they sleep likewise. They are connected to the Cycles. They grow stronger and stronger until the Cycle ends. Only when magic sleeps again do they withdraw from whence they came. Their worlds—if indeed they even live on worlds such as we conceive—lie beyond the borders of Starsea at the empire’s height. It may even be impossible to pass through Dark Space, but it must be done if the Orbs are to be returned to their rightful place—the Light Realm. That is the only way to stop the Starsea Cycle.”

  It was an impossibility on top of impossibility. “And through this First Gate is the Heart of Creation.”

  “Yes.”

  “And how do you know that this place exists?”

  “Because it is how magic first entered the universe. I’ve . . . dreamed of the First Gate, and know that it can be reached. That the First Gate was here even before we Ancients. Yes, Lucian. It is a slender reed, but it is all we have to ride out the storm.”

  Impossible. It would be far easier to gather the Orbs and become the Immortal than to return them to the Light Realm through this First Gate. And gathering the Seven was impossible in itself.

  “It’s hopeless, isn’t it?” Lucian asked. “Why not throw the orbs into some black hole or a star?”

  “They would not be destroyed. In the case of a black hole, due to time dilation in its gravity well, you would only ensure the Orbs’ preservation until the end of the universe. The gravity would not undo them anyway. And in the case of a star, they would simply become buried in plasma and impossible to extricate. They are magic, existing in Realms of Light and Shadow. That means they must be taken to the Light Realm itself, into the reality that makes them no longer exist in the Shadow Realm. And that can only be done by taking them to the Heart of the Universe.”

  “I would die in the attempt.”

  “We Oracles laid aside everything. Our pride. Our vanity. All for a shot to end the Cycles since none of us was strong enough to do it alone. We each went our separate ways. With the last of our resources, we built these hidden places. And here, we sacrificed ourselves to protect the Orbs. Until one day, the Chosen should come, who might end that which we never could.”

  “You mean, never would.”

  The Oracle nodded, conceding this point.

  “I’m not as strong as you,” Lucian said. “And you want me to bear the burden? That’s rich.”

  “We have no other choice. For an Orb has already been found, meaning that you, or that person, are the only hope to stop the Starsea Cycle.” When Lucian had been silent for a while, she approached the Orb once again. “As soon as you touch it, it will cease to be a physical object. It will become a part of you, only parting from your Focus upon death or voluntary relinquishment.”

  “If I say I want it,” Lucian said, “how will you know my motives are pure and that I’ll use it for what you intend?”

  She gave a sad smile. “I won’t know. I can only make my best guess as to your motives. I am wiser than most, but I have been wrong many times. The Stars know that. Should you take it, you should seek the other Oracles. They will have their conditions for relinquishing their Orbs. Even if the Oracles agreed that the Orbs needed to be protected for the future, we disagreed on how the future Chosen should use them. I only ask for your word, because one’s word, when given in good faith and adhered to, is the greatest treasure of all. In the end, I suppose, we will discover which of us was short-changed. Nothing of worth can be accomplished until one person chooses to trust another, and they return that trust in kind.”

  Trust was a dangerous thing. It was the most powerful bond in the universe. Until it was betrayed. And from the Oracle’s tale, she had most certainly betrayed trust before.

  Lucian realized something else. Perhaps she was only selecting him, not because he was the Chosen, not because he was marked by the Manifold, but because time had run out. He was her last choice, one forced upon her because the Starsea Cycle had begun anew.

  That thought chilled him to the core.

  “I don’t want this,” he said. “You would give it to me, despite that?”

  “Nothing in this is a sure thing, Lucian. Even I don’t believe there is much possibility of success. And yet, I know it’s important to try, despite all that. Sometimes, when we try, we end up surprising ourselves in the end. Something that seems impossible can become possible through sheer force of will.”

  What he should have done was walk away. He should have done that a long time ago. Because the longer he stayed here, the more convinced he became of her vision. The more he saw himself wielding the Orb of Binding and seeking the others. If not to destroy them, then to use them for his ends. Whatever those ends happened to be.

  “End the Starsea Cycle,” he said. “End magic. Wouldn’t that just destroy everything? Destroy the Manifold itself?”

  “No,” she said. “Magic would die only in the Shadow Realm. Magic is how mages manipulate the Manifold, but the Manifold would still exist. It would just become inaccessible. And of course, the Starsea Cycle, the desolation of the Madness, would end. Even Arian says as much in his Prophecy of the Seven. After all, we Oracles are the Seven who gave him that revelation.”

  Lucian looked at the Orb of Binding again, held in her hand. And he knew his answer, as insane as it was. He didn’t even know what possessed him to arrive at that answer. Maybe it was the fact that, like her, he had no other choice. He didn’t want to live on this island for the rest of his life, eating seaweed and seafood with Linus and Plato. Even if he died, this was something to try. Something bigger than himself.

  This could be his path, at least for now. It was what the Manifold had set before him. He didn’t understand why, or for what reason, but there it was.

  Maybe it was time to admit Vera had been right about some things. If he went with the will of the Manifold, it would be easier than going against it.

  He let out a sigh. “All right, fine. If you’re okay with me having no idea what the hell I’m doing, I’ll take the Orb.”

  The Oracle did not say anything—not for a long time. She stared into the distance, her face a mask of sorrow. Finally, she faced Lucian. “Even after everything I’ve said, you still don’t know what you ask, Lucian. That is what saddens me. And yet, I will not refuse you. You are not our best hope. Not by a long shot. But you may be the best I ever get to see before the end of this Cycle. How this plays out remains to be seen.”

  Lucian felt anything but encouraged by that. But better the truth that cuts than the lie that inflates. It was an impossible task and he had no idea how to complete it. But maybe someday in the future, he could find someone worthier to bear the burden.

  The wind was now blowing, swirling around the interior of the shrine. It rose to a roar, and Lucian shouted, but the Oracle did not hear him. She cradled the Orb of Binding in both hands as the swirling breeze came to a sudden stop. She touched the artifact with tenderness, her face bathed in its light. Lucian could see tears falling like melting ice. Was she crying because she was giving up a priceless inheritance that had been hers for eons? Because she believed there was no hope? Or because she knew things beyond Lucian’s conception, of the pain this object would cause him?

  Then there was the simplest answer. Her time in this reality, the Shadow Realm, would end upon his acceptance of the Orb. That was a sad thought, enough for a few tears to come to Lucian’s eyes. But she would finally be able to rest after hundreds of millennia.

  At least, that was what he told himself.

  He had no time to ponder these questions. She stood before him and held the Orb of Binding out. He reached, pulled by its gravity. At long last, he placed both hands upon it. It was warm as it vibrated beneath his grasp. The light shone brighter and brighter, wrapping around him like a storm. It shone until everything was a blue whiteness projecting in all directions. He screamed, the Orb seeming to obliterate him from existence.

  And then the whiteness began to fade, and the world once again materialized in his vision. Broken pillars. Shattered stones. Cracked tiles. A half-collapsed roof. The interior of the shrine stood before him in its true, ruinous state. Drab, gray, and forlorn. He looked around, bemused. Of the shining cerulean tiles, the resplendent pillars, and the alabaster surfaces, there was no trace.

  And the Oracle had vanished as if she had never been. But he still held the Orb of Binding, which was bleeding blue lines of light along his arms. Those lines converged at his heart, uniting for a moment as a single point of light. And then, that too faded.

  The orb was his, Focus-bound, and would only be unbound upon his death or his relinquishment of it. He felt no different. It was almost as if he had imagined the whole thing. There was a part of him that believed this was a dream, that he would wake up any moment.

  The only thing that dashed that notion was the unreal weight that pushed down on his shoulders.

  He wasn’t sure about this Chosen business, but the Oracle had certainly believed it pertained to him. He could only find out more by going forward. But of course, he hoped he wouldn’t find out anything at all, and all of this was just some mad dream.

  Reaching for his Focus, he meant to try his Binding Magic. But fear stopped him in the end. He was not ready to accept it. Not yet.

  Before he could think about it further, he left the ruins behind. He climbed the trail leading out of the chamber. His torch, left behind, had long burned out, so he chipped a glowing crystal off the side of the cave and used it to light his way. He turned around one last time, wanting a final glimpse.

  But, as he suspected, the shrine was still in ruins. It had served its purpose, and no one for the rest of time would ever see it as he had. He felt sad that its beauty had passed, along with the Oracle who kept it.

  Lucian didn’t understand the implications. He imagined he never would.

  A voice entered his mind. It could only be her, her final words, that came to him as if in benediction:

  Go now, with my blessing. Seek the other Oracles, who will tell you more. And please . . . don’t give up.

  Lucian wanted to will that sad voice away, but all it did was become an echo in his mind, a haunting refrain.

  He ran down the dark tunnel, the crystal in hand. He was back at the opening cavern in seemingly no time at all.

  When he took up his place next to the fire, both Linus and Plato were undisturbed. It was as if no time had passed at all. For all he knew, what was hours for him with the Oracle was only minutes for them.

  He was too tired to wonder at it. He closed his eyes and slept.