TIME is a fickle thing.

  It can be the bane of everything in existence - or its boon.

  All the inhabitants in all the worlds fear the influence of time. Even great mountains can be ground to dust, the vast lands reformed or the deepest seas dried out.

  Any wound can heal, albeit with time.

  The aftermath of the battle of the Sea of Blades had been profound. The plains had seized to exist, in a moment of earth-shattering power.

  The harbouring continent had shattered into many mangled pieces during the cataclysmic event and had turned into a wild untamed region where no traveller was safe. The first expeditions were sent into this corner of the world right after the aftermath of the cataclysm abated - and many more tried to unearth the region’s secrets in the millennia to come.

  Not many returned. The ones that succeeded, though, spoke of unbelievable tales - of mountains turned upside down and titanic storms that devastated everything in their path.

  Even so, something else overshadowed this turbulent first period of time - in a nascent age that had risen out of the previous one’s ashes. The world had been bereft of its most intrinsic property.

  The world had lost its magic.

  ***

  [The Year 4200 in the current Age]

  A caravan had stopped for the night.

  Many wagons, composed of many scavenged materials, were placed in a circular formation for protection.

  A few camp fires burned brightly and the smoke slowly rose towards the darkening sky.

  Many people, dressed in a wide variety of clothes, sat in groups talking to each other in hushed voices or stood attentively on watch. A contingent of guards vigilantly patrolled the perimeter. The camp was very orderly and the tents had been secured in neat rows in the space of the inner circle.

  Children ran around, playing a game of catching, trying to use the last moments of dusk to their fullest. Some were excitedly giggling while running circles around the man sitting at the camp fires or around the tents close by. Over the continued giggling, many a woman’s chiding voice could be heard. They were picking the noisy children out and hushed them into silence.

  “How long do you think is left to travel?” A man, minding the fire with a long gnarled stick, asked around.

  “It depends on the weather and how the conditions of the lands from now on will hinder us… It also depends on how well we will be able to avoid the creatures of the dark when we have to stop at night. Those loud children aren’t helping for sure!” Another one answered, ruefully shaking his head while observing the children being calmed down and herded into their respective tents by the women.

  “Oh, come now, Oldritch! They are children - being children. You know as well as I that our voyage could have turned much worse up until now. To be honest, I’m pretty surprised that the children have kept so quiet after all. I had much bigger reservations than you at the beginning of this endeavour after all.” A man, sitting in the middle of the group and clearly the leader of this caravan judging by his better attire and stature, answered the grumbling fellow and took a long drink from his jug.

  “But, Fulton, regarding your question: We still have a long way ahead of us. Luckily, our trip through the desert went much faster than I expected. I think I saw mountains on the horizon when we crested the last dune some days ago. If the ancient maps I found in that repository are to believed, we should be currently far into Deveron right now.” He began explaining to the listening group.

  “Deveron… our continent.” He clarified and many men grunted in understanding.

  “So, If I judged our position accurately I would wager that we will get to the pass between the mountain ranges in two weeks time, three at most. Then we descend towards the sea eastward and head north shortly after, towards a great forest that is clearly marked on this map. Here, look.” The man indicated on the map in his hands.

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  “When we reach the forests, we will hug the coastline and begin searching for a new home!” He clapped his hands together, Oldritch visibly flinching to the sudden sound.

  The leader stood up, putting the map back into a pocket on his vest and addressed the huddled group.

  “It is time for some rest. Gather your things, we will leave at first light. Tell the others.”

  The caravan reached the mountain pass after two weeks of travel. The animals pulled the heavy wagons towards the looming ridge above them. The mountains on both sides of the pass cast long shadows on them and the lands behind. The sun had yet to rise high enough.

  At last, the first wagon approached the distinct line of golden light that divided the pass on its highest point into two halves from one mountainside to the other.

  The men, women and children had to protect their eyes for a short moment, the sun blinding them.

  The leader was in the front, silhouetted by the rays of light like some mythical hero, and gazed upon the landscape that unfolded in front of them.

  As the map depicted, the lands gradually fell towards a glittering body of water on the horizon. The water was enclosed by landmasses on both sides. The coastline stretched away eastwards as far as the eye could see.

  ‘A long bay then', the leader thought. ‘Just like in the map.’

  He smirked, glad that his wager had turned fruitful and hadn’t caused the deaths of so many people - for now at least. People who had put their lives in his hands at the beginning of this expedition.

  “What is that, there over the horizon?” The ever mistrustful Oldritch had stepped up next to the leader, pointing towards the spectacle he had noticed right away.

  “Looks like some huge storm for the look of it, don’t you think?” he answered him. After a short pause, the leader continued speaking, remembering something.

  “They say that the lands on the horizon have been part of a lost continent thousands of years ago… Especially everything under that storm. They say, that it is the remains of a cataclysmic event of a bygone Age. An event that ended an Age and shattered a continent…” the leader spoke thoughtfully.

  The man only grunted in response.

  “Yes, stories and myths, I tell you. What? Do you believe these farfetched things? What comes next? That magic really existed once and we have been living in the morass of that aftermath? That our lives were a dreadful existence…?”

  “And what are those damn flashes in-between the clouds? I cannot even decide on a colour that I’m seeing, there are way too many present for it! And what kind of storm is that supposed to be anyway? Have you ever seen or heard of a storm that is everywhere at once? There is no separation between the ground and the sky that I can see!” He exclaimed.

  “I do hope that we will be traveling in the other direction. Right?”

  The leader did not answer at first, instead continuing to observe the phenomenon, lost in deep thought. Oldritch had certainly described it accurately. However, he couldn’t disagree with him. That thing surely looked intimidating.

  ‘Better to stay a long way clear of it’, he mused. He nodded at his companion and patted his shoulder.

  “Come on, let's get moving again. And no… not towards that - whatever that is.”

  They both started to turn when a sudden tremor could be felt throughout everything nearby. They looked back, eyebrows raised in wonder, not finding the reason for the sudden commotion. The ground shook slightly and the air vibrated imperceptibly. It felt like a charged current was permeating the whole scenery.

  The flashes inside the distant storm had noticeably brightened and intensified, if that could even be possible.

  Then, all of a sudden, a bright flare erupted from somewhere deep inside the storm. The whole world was bathed in a dazzling light for a couple of seconds and then receded just as quick.

  The caravaneers looked on in stupor, witnessing an extraordinary event.

  The dark and menacing storm had visibly changed. The outermost clouds had scattered as if blown away by some mighty gale. Some had remained in place, motionless, connected to others around them through sporadic shreds. But many had disappeared, the blue sky intermittently visible now - rays of sunshine shining through the openings.

  But the biggest spectacle laid far away, somewhere in the centre of the spectacle. The people observed a receding glow of the bright light that had encompassed them just moments ago. Then, the remnants of a titanic beam of the same light could be seen piercing the heavens, though it was already beginning to fade and disperse.

  A distinct murmur traveled through the clouds and many people displayed an awed expression on their face.

  “That is just our luck, I tell you! Whoever heard of a caravan traveling to new places for a first time - minding their own business - when the whole world goes crazy. Any sane person should be wondering if up and down are still the same after this…” Oldritch murmured to himself with a mistrustful scowl. He regained his composure soon after and spoke to his leader expectantly.

  “What do you take all of this for? Should we be worried? Is it a bad sign?”

  “I don’t know, but this changes nothing for us!” The leader exclaimed. He took a deep breath and smiled encouragingly at the gathered people around him. He then purposefully descended the slope, walking towards a new life that he had promised them all.

  “Aye, this changes nothing. Probably…” Oldritch seconded his leader. “Caravan! Onwards, to a new home!”

  The caravan cheered at his words, following behind the two - some individual catching a last furtive glance towards what lay behind them.

  Little did they know, they had just witnessed an event that would have a profound impact on the times to come.

  After all, magic had been restored to the world.