A rift between(Unir POV)

Author’s note: This is the beginning of a collaboration with another author, a crossover with the cat boy branch! Some of the things that happen in the next few chapters will make more sense if you read that as well.

Unir retires to his personal quarters for the evening, a smile on his face. It’s always nice to see bonded groups together like that. His smile fades a notch as he remembers a time that he was a part of such a group. Ages ago, before his ascension.

Shaking his head to dispel the memories, pleasant and unpleasant alike, he sits down at his workbench and begins tinkering with one of his projects, a simple clockwork toy. Such things amuse him, and he enjoys the delight when he gifts them to a child upon completing it. He has only begun working, however, when there’s a knock at his door.

Clarissa, the Daughter of the Forge enters, followed by one of the seers working for the council. The metallic skinned dwarf gives a small bow. “Sorry to interrupt your evening, but this seer says he has a message for you.”

Unir nods. “It’s fine, Clarissa. How goes the work in the forge?”

She straightens. “Quite well, actually. The sword is ready for enchanting, and the armor is nearly complete.”

He smiles. “Good. I feel we may need them soon. Now then, what’s this message?”

The seer steps forward. “Forgefather, the rift opens soon. One comes who had left, seeking aid, though they offer little in return. You gain little from accepting, but lose little as well. However, without your help, they fail their quest.”

Unir nods. “Thank you seer. Your wisdom is appreciated as always.”

The seer bows and leaves, though Clarissa lingers. Unir looks at the flame and metal touched dwarf. “Something on your mind?”

She furrows her brow, looking down. “These prophecies…are they always true?”

Unir chuckles. “Not at all. Most simply offer warning of an important decision. However, I can see your worry. This is about the golden magus, correct?”

She nods. “I just…I don’t like the idea that my future is out of my hands.”

Unir walks over and rests a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not. We all make difficult decisions. Nothing is out of your hands unless you let go. But do not judge too soon. Things are not always as you expect.”

Clarissa smiles. “Thank you. You always know what to say. I will let you relax now.”

Unir chuckles as she leaves. Turning back to his project, he notices a glimmer coming from a nearby shelf. As he looks, a rift stone he has stored there begins glowing faintly. He hesitates slightly, then reaches for it. As soon as his fingers grip the stone, a rift tears into life, and a pair of figures stumble through.

A harpy, looking confused and panicked, and a cat boy, somehow looking even more panicked. There’s something oddly familiar about him, though Unir can’t place it. They’re both dressed oddly, similarly to travelers fresh out of the new world. The boy looks at Unir, and speaks a phrase in a different language, Sog-ja, something Unir hasn’t heard in years.

A single phrase.