across so wide a sea | Glowfic Constellation

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Dec 22, 2024 2:06 AM

all voyages have an end, save one,

veiled-and-secret-power

With a crack that resounds through nine layers of Hell and beyond, Erecura rips Her Gardens out from the fabric of Dis and sets that newly-made Ark to voyage, out of Hell, away from Pharasma’s Creation altogether, out into the formless void between worlds that is called the outer Maelstrom, or the deeper Abyss, or the Boundless Azure Ocean that surrounds the parts of Elysium in which things out of Creation dwell, depending on how Pharasma feels about the things that live in each of its various innumerable realms.

It is not a long voyage, nor a short one, for time and space have little meaning out here, and it is only because the Ark bears the Gems of Radiance wrought by Fe-Anar, containers for the last light of the ruined Starstone, that its passengers are able to experience their ship having anything like a speed or a heading out of Creation at all. But in time (as the passengers experience it) the Ark will come to that pause where the light of Pharasma’s Seal fades to the intensity of the meta-cosmic background radiation, and with a last look back, cross it. Pharasma’s Creation is vast, and contains many things not part of Itself in their beginnings, worlds whose original creators are long dead. Its boundary is porous, and expands with every passing year, if one could somehow view Its evolution in the meta-time that passes at orthogonal angles to any time the passengers on the Ark might be experiencing; but even It has an end, and the Ark is now beyond It.

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Arda

the-little-kingdom

Numendil

And, out here in the void between worlds, not far from Pharasma’s Creation—in fact, due to be subsumed into it in only a few more decades of meta-time—there is another world.

Arda

the-little-kingdom

Numendil

It is a moderately large world, as worlds are measured, far smaller than Pharasma's Creation, but more real by some ways of measuring that, and older in meta-time, more ancient and simpler; it might be the seed from which Creation and a thousand worlds like it grew. Many things which are in Golarion, were here first, one of the captains of the Ark among them.

None of this, however, is known or visible to the Ark's passengers as they draw to port. Concepts like 'space' and 'time' have begun to make some sense again, even beyond the Ark's walls and the light of the Gems of Radiance, and this world, seen from the outside, is barely ten thousand miles across, bounded with actual walls of iron and adamant, walls with doors in them, one at each end. It might be an exceptionally large demiplane. (It is in fact larger than the Refuge of Nex, but not by so much that it couldn't possibly have been made by an archmage who wasn't even, technically, a god.)

Fe-Anar

the-well-adjusted-one

Numendil

And the Ark of Erecura enters Arda by the open Gate of Morning—

Arda

the-little-kingdom

Numendil

—and morning comes, for the Radiances which the Ark carries are now the brightest lights that shine upon that darkened world.

Fe-Anar

the-well-adjusted-one

Numendil

Fe-Anar knows this world, from among the worlds that Nefreti Clepati showed him—he is not certain, but 'flat' and 'dark' do a great deal to pinpoint it, and the priors on finding a world of this particular family immediately after departing Pharasma's Creation were not, actually, given that 'tropes' appear to be a feature of his life now, low.

"Something bad has happened here," he tells his fellow captains. "We are likely too late to prevent the worst of it, but things can get much worse, and do, in all worlds that don't get offworld intervention."

He sets the Ark 'down', in an appropriate spot, and the green shimmering energy that had surrounded it vanishes, and it is now simply a part of this Reality.

Numendil

In the middle of Lake Mithrim there is an island.

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