ASCENT
They watch.
It is a crack in the rock, glimmering with strange energies and crackling with mystery. What is it? That is what they wonder, too. They have not seen this before. It is unlike everything else. Is it unnatural? Unlikely, they think. If it exists, it is a part of the natural world. They don't think anything can be unnatural, by that definition.
What is its purpose? They all interact. Each intricate little component affects something else. What does this magic do? What has touched it; what will it touch? They take a small step closer, then another. The only way to find out is by watching. Observing. Their eyes take turns blinking, at least two open at all times. It will not do to miss anything.
For a time, all that greeted Ascent was iridescent whorls of energy and the faint impressions of landscapes blurring along the surface. Quickly noticed, and quickly forgotten—even with as many eyes the dragon had fixed upon it. It was impossible to parse from here.
Perhaps... if they got closer... the images might be clearer... ?
@Ascent
ASCENT
It felt like hours. It probably had been. They had always been patient, and their patience was not without reward. Brief images flashed across the surface of the rift, but when they tried to recall them, they found themselves wondering if they'd really seen anything in the first place. It was all fascinating.
But they grew thirsty eventually, and bowed their head to drink, breaking their reverie. And when they lifted their head again, they took a few steps closer. Cautiously, of course, but the waiting had emboldened them. A few steps, watch for a while, then another few steps. They'd come as close as it took, as long as they didn't touch it.
Contact was not necessary—simply the desire to see, observe, witness was enough.
In an instant, Ascent was swept off-kilter. The world tilted, shifted, and their conscience was briefly crushed beneath the hold of perceived gravity. Iridescent whorls parted like a veil, allowing their mind to fall through an infinitely ephemeral series of landscapes: blistering white, cold, cold, red eyes glinting in the dark; neverending tinfoil sky, green grass; marching in the brush— Just as soon as they could even perceive the shift of scenery another blotted their many eyes, oppressive with the amount of stimuli.
It seemed as it could have been seconds, minutes, hours, days that they crashed through these planes.
Yet Eridanus seemed exactly as it had been before they... left? Before they looked in? It could not have been long—
And, after a time... it'd be almost difficult to recall what they'd seen; where they'd been. Too many images all at once, each refusing to be fully comprehended, fully understood. They blurred as the edges of a shaken-up Polaroid would, smudged and indecipherable. The light filtering in through barely-cracked eyelids after a long time spent simply asleep.
... strange.
@Ascent
ASCENT
For a moment, they thought they were falling into the rift, despite being perfectly balanced the moment before. Their wings flared out, their seemingly calm composure breaking for the first time.
Then they were falling--but with their mind, not their body. Landscapes whirled past, blurring together with sheer speed. Desperately, they tried to perceive each of them, and when that proved to be impossible, to at least focus and remember one explicitly. But they were all so fast. Like a bumblebug's wings, they sped and blurred. Ascent could not even hope to catch a single scene.
And when, suddenly, they were back in the lush greenery of Eridanus, they struggled to remember anything. Only the endless changes of color, and the seeming hundreds of worlds they had crashed through, with but bare milliseconds spent in each.
And now they wondered--if the rift could be entered simply with one's mind, what would it do with touch?
Not their own, of course. But--they took a look around, and saw the perfect opportunity. The world must have been smiling on them, to make them so lucky. A long, thin branch, its shape absolutely perfect for the task. Could there ever be a branch as beautiful as this? Lichen and mosses grew on the rough bark, and it was sturdy and straight, without branching twigs. Ascent whispered a thanks to whichever tree had shed it, then stuck it into the mysterious, iridescent fissure.
The stick met some resistance at first, as if it were pressing against something solid, yet malleable—like rubber—before being jerked right from Ascent's grip. It stuttered and whirled around (like a spoon stuck in a garbage disposal) in the whirling rift. Then, it simply vanished into its fold.
Not thirty seconds passed before the mangled remains of it were spat back out. Charred, sopping-wet, splintered, and smelling of so many things at once, the stick was no longer the perfect beauty it'd been.
@Ascent
ASCENT
The stick suddenly jerked free of Ascent's talons, almost like it was being sucked somewhere else. And maybe it is, they thought, staring at the whirling colors. Where? they wondered. Where would its journey end? Where did this magic lead? Was there a whole world hidden behind the rock wall, or would it bring the stick somewhere... else?
The terminus of the stick's journey, as it turned out, was the exact same place it had started it. Whatever Ascent had expected--well, they really hadn't had any expectations, as this was all so new. But they were caught off-guard nevertheless, leaning a little too close to the whirlpool of magic when the stick was abruptly ejected.
They stumbled back, barely avoiding a solid bonk to the head. The stick hit the mud in front of them. They examined it: parts of it were blackened and smelled of the smoke that fire magic produced, and it had likely gone through some physical trauma, too. Yet it was also wet--what remained of the lichens and mosses dripped with water. Water put out fire magic--so why was the stick both burnt and soaked? How many worlds could it possibly have been through in such a short time?
They remembered the sheer speed at which visions had flashed past their mind's eye. Just how many worlds are out there? they wondered. They did not yet have the means to find out. But they would, they decided, get them. With so much magic in the world, surely they could make some progress at understanding this. And perhaps it would help them understand their own world, too, and what role it played in the greater picture.
Do others live out there? they wondered, casting a final glance at the rift before drifting away. Will I one day meet them?
exit