The warehouse district sprawled along the eastern edge of Thornhaven, where the city met the river that served as its primary trade route. Massive buildings of stone and timber lined the waterfront, their doors wide enough to accommodate loaded wagons. The air smelled of salt water, fish, and the distinctive mustiness of stored goods. Workers moved about with the efficient purpose of people paid by the load, hauling crates and barrels between warehouses and the docked ships.
Astraeus found the supervisor's office in a small building near the center of the district. The supervisor was a grizzled man in his fifties with the weathered look of someone who'd spent his life working with his hands. He glanced at the bronze token Astraeus presented, then grunted.
"You're the mage the guild sent? You look young."
"I'm capable," Astraeus said simply.
The supervisor studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "Not my problem if you're not. Warehouse twelve, down by the water. Been having strange things happen there for the past three days. Lights flickering, cold spots, workers hearing voices. Some of them are refusing to go in."
"What's stored there?"
"Mostly artifacts from an estate sale. Old noble family, died out, their possessions got auctioned off. We're holding the items until the buyers arrange transport. Nothing particularly valuable, as far as I know, but there's a lot of it."
Artifacts from a dead noble family, Kha'Zul said. That's never a good sign. Old money often means old magic, and old magic tends to be unstable.
"Any deaths or injuries?" Astraeus asked.
"Not yet. But the workers are spooked. I need someone to figure out what's causing it and make it stop. Can you do that?"
"I'll take a look."
The supervisor handed him a key. "Lock up when you're done. And be careful. I don't need the guild complaining that I got one of their mages killed."
Astraeus took the key and headed toward warehouse twelve. It sat at the far end of the district, isolated from the other buildings, its back wall facing the river. The structure was older than the others, its stone darker, its timber showing signs of age and weather. Even from outside, he could feel something off about it—a subtle wrongness that made his skin prickle.
You feel that? Kha'Zul asked.
"The essence is disturbed. Flowing wrong, like water around a stone."
Good. Your senses are developing. Now let's see what's causing it.
Astraeus unlocked the heavy door and stepped inside. The interior was dim, lit only by the sunlight filtering through high windows. Crates and boxes were stacked everywhere, creating narrow aisles and shadowed corners. Furniture covered in cloth sheets loomed like ghosts. The air was cold—unnaturally so, given the warmth of the day outside.
He closed the door behind him and reached for his Ethereal Essence, creating a sphere of light that floated above his palm. The silver-blue glow pushed back the shadows, revealing more of the warehouse's contents. Paintings leaned against walls, their subjects obscured by dust. Statues stood like silent sentinels. Chests and trunks were piled haphazardly, their contents unknown.
Start at the center, Kha'Zul advised. Essence disturbances radiate outward. Find the source, and you'll understand what's happening.
Astraeus moved deeper into the warehouse, his light sphere illuminating the path ahead. The cold intensified as he walked, his breath misting in the air. The essence around him felt thick, sluggish, as if something was draining it or corrupting it.
He reached what appeared to be the center of the warehouse, where a large object sat covered by a heavy tarp. The disturbance was strongest here—he could feel it like a pressure against his skin, a wrongness that made his instincts scream danger.
Careful, Kha'Zul warned. Whatever's under that tarp is the source. Don't just rip it off. Examine it first.
Astraeus circled the covered object, studying it from all angles. It was roughly six feet tall and four feet wide, rectangular in shape. The tarp was secured with rope, tied tightly. He could see frost forming on the fabric, spreading in delicate crystalline patterns.
He reached out with his essence sense, trying to feel what lay beneath without touching it. The response was immediate and overwhelming—a surge of cold, ancient power that felt nothing like the clean, neutral essence he was used to. This was tainted, corrupted, wrong.
"It's a mirror," he said aloud, the knowledge coming to him instinctively. "A magical mirror, and it's active."
Mirrors are dangerous, Kha'Zul said, his mental voice tense. They can be portals, prisons, or windows into other places. And if this one is active without anyone powering it, that means it has its own source of energy. Which is very, very bad.
"What do I do?"
You need to see what you're dealing with. Remove the tarp, but be ready to shield yourself. If something comes through, blast it immediately.
Astraeus gathered his essence, forming a barrier around himself—a technique he'd learned during the bandit fight, now refined through practice. The translucent wall of silver-blue energy hummed with power, ready to deflect whatever might emerge.
He reached for the rope securing the tarp and pulled. The knot came loose easily, and the heavy fabric fell away, revealing what lay beneath.
It was indeed a mirror, but unlike any Astraeus had seen before. The frame was black iron, twisted and shaped into thorny vines that seemed to writhe when he wasn't looking directly at them. The glass itself was dark, not reflecting the warehouse or Astraeus's light, but showing something else entirely.
A landscape of gray stone and black sky. Ruins that stretched to the horizon, broken and ancient. And in the center of that desolate scene, a figure stood watching.
It was humanoid but wrong. Too tall, too thin, with limbs that bent at angles that shouldn't be possible. Its face was a blank oval of pale flesh, featureless except for a mouth that split its head from ear to ear, filled with too many teeth.
The creature saw him.
Its mouth opened wider, impossibly wide, and Astraeus heard a sound that made his blood freeze—a scream that was also laughter, a voice that spoke in a language that hurt to hear.
[WARNING: HOSTILE ENTITY DETECTED]
[THREAT LEVEL: HIGH]
The creature moved toward the mirror's surface, and Astraeus realized with horror that it was trying to come through.
"Kha'Zul!" he shouted.
Seal it! Use your essence to close the portal before it crosses over!
Astraeus didn't think. He acted. His hands moved through the air, gathering massive amounts of Ethereal Essence, shaping it into a seal—not a physical barrier but a metaphysical lock, a pattern of energy designed to close dimensional rifts.
He had no idea how he knew how to do this. The knowledge simply appeared in his mind, flowing from Kha'Zul through their bond, three thousand years of demon magic compressed into a single moment of desperate need.
The seal formed in the air before the mirror, a complex mandala of silver-blue light, rotating and pulsing. Astraeus thrust it forward, and it slammed into the mirror's surface like a physical thing.
The creature's scream intensified, becoming something that transcended sound and became pure malevolence. It reached through the mirror, one impossibly long arm extending into the warehouse, fingers tipped with claws that gleamed like black glass.
Astraeus poured more essence into the seal, his pool draining rapidly. The mandala grew brighter, more solid, pushing against the creature's intrusion.
[ETHEREAL ESSENCE: 45/65]
The creature's arm was halfway through, its clawed hand reaching for Astraeus's face. He could smell it now—rot and decay and something worse, something that had no name in any human language.
More power! You're not strong enough alone—use me!
"How?"
Open the binding! Let me manifest partially! I can add my essence to yours!
It was a risk. Opening the binding even slightly could give Kha'Zul more freedom, more influence. But the creature was still coming through, and Astraeus's essence was draining too fast.
He made the decision in a heartbeat.
"Do it!"
He felt the binding loosen, just a fraction, and Kha'Zul's power surged through him like liquid fire. The demon's essence was different from his own—darker, hotter, tainted with three thousand years of accumulated power and malice. But it was strong, incredibly strong.
Astraeus's seal blazed with new intensity, silver-blue light mixing with crimson-black shadows. The combined essence slammed into the mirror with the force of a battering ram.
The creature screamed one final time, a sound of rage and frustration, and its arm withdrew. The dark landscape in the mirror began to fade, the glass becoming opaque, the portal closing.
[ETHEREAL ESSENCE: 15/65]
Astraeus held the seal in place, pouring the last of his combined essence into it, until finally the mirror went completely black. No more ruins. No more creature. Just dark glass reflecting nothing.
He released the seal and staggered backward, his legs weak, his head pounding. The binding snapped back into place, and he felt Kha'Zul's presence retreat to its normal position in his shadow.
That was close, the demon said, his mental voice strained. Too close.
"What was that thing?" Astraeus gasped, leaning against a crate for support.
A Voidborn. A creature from the spaces between dimensions. They're drawn to weak points in reality, places where the barriers are thin. That mirror was a portal, probably created by the noble family for some foolish purpose, and it's been slowly degrading over the years. Eventually, it would have opened completely, and that thing would have come through.
"And killed everyone in the city."
Eventually. Voidborn are patient. They would have started small—possessing people, spreading corruption, weakening the dimensional barriers further. By the time anyone realized what was happening, it would have been too late.
Astraeus looked at the mirror, now dark and seemingly inert. "Is it sealed permanently?"
No. Your seal will hold for a few days, maybe a week. But the mirror itself needs to be destroyed. The frame is made of void-touched iron—it can't be melted or broken by normal means. You'll need to report this to the guild. They have specialists who can handle artifacts like this.
Astraeus nodded, too exhausted to argue. He'd completed the task—identified the source of the disturbance—but the solution was beyond his current capabilities.
[QUEST UPDATED: INVESTIGATE ESSENCE DISTURBANCE]
[OBJECTIVE COMPLETE: Source identified - Corrupted dimensional mirror]
[NEW OBJECTIVE: Report findings to Mage Guild]
He covered the mirror with the tarp again, securing it tightly, then made his way out of the warehouse. The sunlight felt like a blessing after the cold darkness inside. He locked the door and headed back to the supervisor's office.
The supervisor looked up as Astraeus entered. "Well? What did you find?"
"A corrupted artifact. A mirror that's been opening a portal to another dimension. I've sealed it temporarily, but it needs to be destroyed by guild specialists. No one should enter that warehouse until they arrive."
The supervisor's face went pale. "A portal? To where?"
"Somewhere you don't want anything coming from. Trust me."
"I'll lock it down immediately. No one goes in." The supervisor paused. "You sealed it yourself? That's... advanced magic for someone your age."
"I had help," Astraeus said, which was true enough.
He left the warehouse district and headed back to the Mage Guild, his steps heavy with exhaustion. The encounter had drained him physically and mentally. He'd faced something that existed beyond normal reality, something that shouldn't exist at all, and barely managed to stop it.
But he had stopped it. With Kha'Zul's help, yes, but also with his own skill and determination.
Marcus Thorne was in his office when Astraeus arrived. The instructor took one look at him and stood. "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Worse. A Voidborn trying to cross through a corrupted dimensional mirror."
Marcus's expression shifted from concern to alarm. "A Voidborn? Are you certain?"
"I sealed the portal, but it's temporary. The mirror needs to be destroyed by specialists."
Marcus was already moving, pulling out papers, writing rapidly. "Where is it?"
"Warehouse twelve, eastern district. I told the supervisor to lock it down."
"Good. I'll send a team immediately." Marcus looked at Astraeus with new respect. "You sealed a Voidborn portal by yourself? That's master-level magic."
"I had... instinctive knowledge. It just came to me in the moment."
Good save, Kha'Zul murmured.Marcus studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Some mages have natural talent that manifests under pressure. You might be one of them. Either way, you've done the city a great service. That portal could have killed thousands if it had fully opened."
He counted out coins from a lockbox on his desk. "Ten silver, as promised. And I'm adding a bonus—another ten silver for the danger you faced. Twenty silver total."
Astraeus took the coins, feeling their weight in his hand. More money than he'd ever had at once. "Thank you."
"Thank you. You've earned it." Marcus paused. "If you're interested, there are more tasks available. Higher-level ones, given what you've just demonstrated you're capable of."
"I'll think about it," Astraeus said. "Right now, I need to rest."
"Of course. Go. Recover. We'll talk more later."
Astraeus left the guild hall and walked back to the Copper Bell Inn in a daze. The common room was busy with the lunch crowd, but he went straight to his room, locked the door, and collapsed onto the bed.
[QUEST COMPLETE: INVESTIGATE ESSENCE DISTURBANCE]
[REWARD: 20 SILVER, 50 EXPERIENCE]
[EXPERIENCE: 130/250]
[SKILL EXPERIENCE GAINED: INTERMEDIATE ETHEREAL MANIPULATION]
[PROGRESS: 15/200]
[NEW SKILL LEARNED: BASIC DIMENSIONAL SEALING]
[DESCRIPTION: Ability to create temporary seals on dimensional rifts and portals]
[PROGRESS: 1/100]
A new skill. Learned in the heat of battle, pulled from Kha'Zul's knowledge through their bond. It was proof that their connection went deeper than just the demon being imprisoned in his shadow. They could share knowledge, combine their powers, work together in ways the God System had never explicitly mentioned.
"That was dangerous," Astraeus said quietly. "Opening the binding."
Yes. But necessary. You weren't strong enough alone.
"What if you'd tried to take control? To use that opening to break free?"
I considered it, Kha'Zul admitted. For about half a second. Then I remembered that if you died, I'd go back to the seal. And I'd rather be bound to you than imprisoned in stone for another three thousand years.
"So you're helping me purely out of self-interest."
Obviously. What other reason would there be?
But Astraeus heard something in the demon's tone—something that might have been the faintest hint of respect, or perhaps even concern. Kha'Zul had shared his knowledge freely, had added his power to Astraeus's without hesitation, had helped save the city from a threat that would have killed thousands.
Maybe, just maybe, the demon was becoming more than just a prisoner bound to his shadow.
"Get some rest," Kha'Zul said. "You've earned it. And we need to talk about what that Voidborn's presence means."
"What does it mean?"
It means the dimensional barriers are weakening. Voidborn don't appear randomly—they're drawn to places where reality is thin, where the boundaries between worlds are failing. If one was trying to cross here, in Thornhaven, there will be others elsewhere. Probably many others.
"Is that what the God System meant? About reality unraveling?"
Probably. The Voidborn are symptoms of a larger problem. And if the system chose you to be a Reality Anchor, it means you're going to be facing a lot more of them in the future.
Astraeus closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling him toward sleep. "One problem at a time. Today, we stopped one Voidborn. Tomorrow, we'll worry about the rest."
Practical. I approve.
Sleep claimed him quickly, and this time his dreams were dark and filled with gray landscapes and creatures with too many teeth. But he wasn't afraid. Because he'd faced one of them and won.
And he would face the others when they came.
He had four thousand chapters to prepare, after all.