Thanks to the stranger’s magic, you find yourself standing before a massive ziggurat made of green stone. The external stairwell leads straight to the top of the structure, which nearly scrapes the tiled barrier that forms the sky. Glancing over your shoulder, you see that there is an edge to the landmass upon which you stand. It seems that it floats in the middle of the magical sphere that had previously kept you away. Turning your attention back to the structure, you can sense an unbelievably dense concentration of aether somewhere deep inside. Naturally, you suspect that this is what you have come here to find.
You focus on your prize and reach out a hand. You feel the thin strands of aether that gently flow towards the mass, feeding it with the excess power of this realm’s upper regions. Shutting your eyes, you will yourself to dissolve into that flow and follow it into the depths of the ziggurat.
Nothing happens.
To your surprise, you are still unable to teleport. It occurs to you that the rabbit probably knew this would happen. You will surely need his help to return to the physical world, but he cannot join you until you have dealt with whatever was keeping him away in the first place. Maybe you should not have been so hostile in your first meeting. You are being manipulated either way, so you may as well have gotten more information on what it is that he needs from you. For now, though, there is little point in dwelling on the matter.
It takes you a few minutes to climb the massive staircase leading to the entrance. When you arrive, you see tiny holes in the floor beneath you and a heavy stone door blocking your path. Carved into its surface is a rough approximation of a human face. More importantly, you notice a shift in the aether. Like a gentle breeze changing direction, you feel that the same strands which had been feeding whatever lies within are now flowing into the door, powering some enchantment.
The markings carved into the door begin to glow with golden light. It becomes animate, focusing its gaze upon you as it speaks. “Who approaches this sacred place?”
“I am a traveler,” you say. “I come seeking an old and dangerous relic. Will you let me pass?”
Rather than answer your question, the door responds, “You are neither a human nor one of the ancients. How did you pierce the first barrier?”
Turning your gaze up towards the artificial sky, you consider how much information you wish to give this guardian construct. You settle on telling him, “A traveler helped me teleport to the interior of the sphere from its surface.”
“You speak of the second barrier. How did you pass the first?”
Taken aback, you are unsure how to respond. You think back to your journey up to this point, but you simply cannot recall anything else that would really qualify as a barrier. You answer as best you can, saying, “Before reaching the sphere, I traversed a region of the mental plane filled with confusing, half-remembered visions from foreign minds. Is this what you speak of?”
“A natural feature of the levels above us. This is not the work of my creators. I see you for what you are. You are neither the dream of a mortal nor a natural resident of this place. For a being of flesh and bone to enter this plane at all, it would be necessary to pass through or dispel the first barrier.”
Your dry throat stings. Though you consider the possibility that the traveler who sent you past the second barrier may have been responsible for dispelling the first, you have no real evidence to back up the idea. Besides, you have grown tired of speaking and do not wish to draw out this conversion any further. “I have told you all that I know. Let me pass or turn me away.”
The carving remains silent. Its glowing light begins to dim. After about a minute, you begin to wonder if you will need to find some other way to enter the ziggurat. Eventually, though, it replies, “Will you stand by your words? If they are true, then the way has been opened above, and I will let you pass. If they are false, then you will surely die.”
Feeling the aetheric threads around you, you briefly wonder if you can simply undo the enchantment that animates the door and thus bypass this ridiculous, dangerous test. You give up on the idea almost immediately. The magic is too ancient and too complex. Each thread has its own unique texture. Some are smooth like silk. They are hard to grasp, and they wind together in complex, delicate patterns that are nearly impossible to pull apart. Others are rough and painful, like cotton strings coated in powdered glass. They are woven less elegantly, but they wrap around the other threads, protecting them. Even attempting to pull them apart would surely do more harm to you than to the spell.
With no other option, you shut your eyes and nod at the guardian. Immediately, you sense some aether being diverted towards the mass below. A moment later, you feel some of it rising up, coming through the little round openings in the stone beneath you. Dry heat surrounds you on all sides. It does not burn you, though you do feel a searing headache as the heat somehow spreads into your mind, presumably to burn away any falsehoods. Opening your eyes, you see that you are wreathed in bright purple flames. Fortunately, you only endure the discomfort they cause for a few seconds longer before the aether ceases to flow downward and the fire disappears.
The door’s light fades away to nothing. It opens slowly, its sides grinding loudly against the stone surrounding it. The way is open, but it is too dark and your vision is too weak for you to see what lies just inside the ziggurat. Your usual way of sensing the world around you by feeling the aether is somewhat disrupted by the mass below, which draws your attention each time you try to focus on your surroundings. Fortunately, the threads that had been feeding the door now begin to spread out through the narrow passageway ahead, causing strange glyphs on the wall to glow. They produce only a little golden light, but it is enough.
As you take your first step into the building, you hear the door’s voice again. This time, it echoes from somewhere further inside. “Go with the blessing of the creators, traveler, but heed this warning: I was created to watch over a tomb. This is no treasure vault, nor is it some ancient repository of knowledge. Whatever you have come here to find, you will leave empty-handed.”
Despite the warning, you know that there is something here. Perhaps it is not what you wanted to find, but you have come this far. You will not be dissuaded from your quest by the cryptic words of a slab of rock. For now, you focus on making your way through the narrow corridor.