To Canselon’s eyes, the sky was shattered. He was not the only one who could tell that the barrier between his world and The Beyond was weakening, but he alone could see it stretched across the sky. Power shone through the jagged, widening cracks and he expected that one of the pieces would soon flake off, leaving a hole in the sky.

Neither Canselon nor any of the other Locansia knew what would happen after that. Some secretly gathered armies, fearing a netherworldly invasion. Canselon wondered if it might not happen the other way around. Once the barrier fell, occultists would know simply by listening to Locansian gossip. How many would be able to resist the temptation to seek power in that unknown realm, rumored to be the fount of all mana? Would the Locansia be able to stop them?

All they had on their side was the occultists’ fear of them. They believed the Locansia were a powerful order of archmages who controlled all the ancient enchantments. In truth, all they could do was observe the magic and wait.