Drift Of The Multiverse

The all-too-familiar sensation of shifting planes struck Ethan once more, accompanied by a blinding brilliance that rendered him temporarily sightless. As the light faded and the world settled, he instinctively scanned his surroundings, his right hand already gripping the hilt of his sword.

For once, he wasn't immediately surrounded. This was a rare occurrence. In his previous two plane-jumps, he had landed smack in the middle of groups of hostile individuals. In the dark, grim world of Diablo, he'd been greeted by a cluster of Rogues with bows trained on him, ready to turn him into a pincushion at the slightest misstep.

"Finally, no ambush for a change…" he muttered under his breath, loosening his grip on his sword.

Still, Ethan couldn't shake his wariness. The landing site chosen by the teleportation circle never seemed to be reliable—at least, not by conventional standards. Then again, he thought, perhaps being thrown into "safe" areas despite the initial chaos was its way of being dependable.

"Don't be alarmed, mage from another plane," a voice suddenly called out from behind him.

Startled, Ethan spun around to face what seemed to be a steep, barren mountain wall. The voice had clearly come from there, but no one was in sight.

"An illusion?" he wondered aloud, focusing his senses.

Concentrating, Ethan probed the area with his mental power. Though he lacked the ability to project his spiritual energy outward, his heightened senses detected something off—a subtle incongruity. Yet, without additional means at his disposal, he couldn't pinpoint what was wrong.

Before he could delve deeper, the answer revealed itself. Like rippling water, the mountain wall shimmered and dissolved, revealing a hidden passage.

From within, a white-bearded old man stepped forward, accompanied by a blond boy. The older man was dressed like the quintessential mage from legend, leaning lightly on a long staff as he approached.

"Greetings, traveler from another world," the old mage said, his voice slow and calm.

His tone was warm and inviting, devoid of malice. Yet, the overwhelming magical energy radiating from him—like a vast, unfathomable ocean was anything but comforting. The sheer power on display, unhidden and unapologetic, was enough to put anyone on edge.

"Please, don't misunderstand," the old mage continued, quickly suppressing his magical aura. "As a fellow mage, I'm sure you understand that sometimes… precautions must be taken for a proper conversation."

The oppressive atmosphere faded as he spoke, leaving behind only his gentle demeanor.

"In fact," the old mage added with a faint smile, "to break through the dense energy barrier and reach you, I may have overexerted myself in making initial contact."

It was then that Ethan realized the mage wasn't speaking in a language he recognized. Instead, the words resonated directly in his mind—an act of mental communication.

Ethan's annoyance flared. "Seriously? Again?"

Though he understood his own weakness compared to the mages he encountered, having his mind invaded without consent still grated on him.

"This is getting old," he muttered. "I really need to figure out a way to block these psychic intrusions."

"Ah, young man, you're perfectly right to feel that way," the old mage said, his tone tinged with understanding. "I hope you'll allow me to make amends."

The elder mage's demeanor exuded wisdom and morality. He bowed slightly, offering a genuine apology and compensation without hesitation.

"For instance," he continued, "I could craft you an amulet to shield your mind from mental attacks. How does that sound?"

Ethan blinked in surprise. "Wait, can you read my thoughts?"

"Oh, not at all!" the mage replied, chuckling softly. "I simply surmised that such a thing might be foremost on your mind given the circumstances." His sharp, perceptive eyes gleamed beneath his kind exterior.

Ethan paused, contemplating the offer. The old mage had suggested crafting the amulet so casually, as though it were a trivial task. Clearly, he was confident in his abilities as an enchanter. Still, Ethan didn't feel an immediate need for such a defense.

As his own mental strength grew, he reasoned, most enemies wouldn't be able to breach his mind unless they were overwhelmingly powerful. And if someone with that level of strength wanted to harm him, no amulet in the world would make a difference.

For now, Ethan decided to set the matter aside. "So, what should I call you?"

Seeing that Ethan was willing to talk, the old mage smiled warmly. "My name is Merlin. You may call me that."

"…Merlin?" Ethan's brow furrowed. The name was iconic, synonymous with legendary tales of magic and myth. A powerful mage named Merlin? The implications were clear. But which Merlin was this?

The name had appeared in countless works across various cultures and genres, from Arthurian legends to modern fiction. And while some versions were noble mentors, others were… less savory.

"Not the version with white hair and questionable morals… I can probably rule that one out."

"Doesn't look like he's carrying a staff made of futuristic tech, so another possibility eliminated."

Ethan scratched his head in frustration. There were simply too many iterations of Merlin to narrow it down.

Merlin, noticing Ethan's reaction, seemed intrigued. "Young man, do you recognize my name? Or perhaps you've encountered me—or someone like me—on another plane?"

Ethan hesitated. Merlin's question caught him off guard, but it didn't take long for him to connect the dots. The fact that Merlin immediately identified him as a traveler from another plane suggested that the mage had a deep understanding of the multiverse, possibly even more than Ethan himself.

"Wait…" A sudden thought struck him. "Don't tell me… is the reason my teleportation circle brought me here because of you?"

Merlin froze for a moment before smiling knowingly. "You're quick to catch on. I wasn't planning to hide it. In fact, even if you hadn't noticed, I would've told you soon enough."

Ethan's expression darkened. His last encounter with a powerful mage had occurred when he traveled to the Marvel universe. There, the Sorcerer Supreme, who guarded Earth from planar invasions, intercepted him. That experience taught Ethan that truly powerful beings could interfere with his teleportation.

He hadn't expected to meet another such figure so soon. With this revelation, the prospect of using his teleportation circle to travel between planes became daunting. Who knew if next time he'd cross paths with someone who might kill him outright before hearing him out?

"Or," Merlin interjected, as though reading his unease, "I could teach you how to better control that immense energy you wield, so it doesn't shine like the moon in a pitch-black night sky, drawing attention from others like myself."

Ethan's frustration eased slightly. Merlin had hit on a sore spot, one Ethan was desperate to resolve.

"I really need to deal with that problem," Ethan admitted with a nod, but he wasn't about to let Merlin take full control of the conversation. "That said, Your Excellency, Great Mage Merlin… what is it that you want from me? After all, you didn't bring me here by accident."

Merlin had deliberately intercepted him, redirecting his teleportation to arrive at this very spot. That meant he had an agenda. Ethan had initially assumed Merlin might be similar to the Ancient One—a protector of this plane—but Merlin's repeated offers of help made Ethan reconsider.

"This is about something connected to me," Ethan murmured to himself, trying to analyze the situation. What could a legendary powerhouse like Merlin want from him? The only thing of value he had was his ability to travel between planes. However, Merlin's earlier words suggested he wasn't particularly interested in that. If he were, why offer to help Ethan better master his spatial energy instead of exploiting it?

"Why don't we talk somewhere more suitable?" Merlin interrupted Ethan's thoughts. "Surely, standing here all day isn't ideal."

"You're right," Ethan agreed.

"Then follow me, young man," Merlin said, turning to lead the way back into the magically hidden passage.

As Ethan followed, he couldn't help but notice the powerful magical barrier he passed through. It felt like walking through a curtain of water, only instead of being soaked, he was washed in waves of magic. Strangely, the barrier seemed to replenish some of the mental energy he had expended during his teleportation.

The passage wasn't long, and before long, the narrow path opened into a breathtaking valley.

The scene was like something out of a dream. Flowers and trees filled every inch of space, their vibrant colors and fragrances merging into an intoxicating harmony. Ethan immediately sensed the extraordinary nature of the flora. This was no ordinary valley, everything here seemed to radiate life and magic.

"A paradise on Earth," Ethan muttered in awe.

Merlin smiled, clearly pleased by the compliment. "This is my home," he said with a hint of pride.

The only man-made structure in the valley was a modest-looking house. From the outside, it appeared to be an ordinary three-story building. However, the moment Ethan stepped inside, he realized the space within was far larger than it seemed.

Magic, of course.

Without stopping, Merlin led Ethan to a reception room. Inside, a table was already set with an assortment of fruits, their vibrant colors as inviting as the valley outside.

"Please, have a seat," Merlin offered as he sat down himself, gesturing for Ethan to sit opposite him.

Once Ethan was seated, Merlin continued, "Originally, I planned to spend some time conversing with you before revealing my intentions. But it seems you prefer a more direct approach, so I won't keep you in suspense."

Just as he was about to explain, Merlin glanced at the blond boy standing nearby. Suddenly, as if recalling something important, he turned back to Ethan.

"Ah, forgive me—I'll need to take one more liberty with you before we proceed," Merlin said apologetically.

Ethan tensed but remained seated, his hand unconsciously drifting toward his sword.

"There won't be any harmful side effects," Merlin assured him. "You may feel a slight numbness in your head or a mild headache, but nothing more."

Before Ethan could protest, Merlin raised his finger to his own forehead. A stream of glowing light flowed from his head to his fingertip. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pointed at Ethan, sending the light into him.

Ethan froze. His body stiffened as the light entered his mind. The sensation was strange but not painful, it felt as though something had been carefully placed within his consciousness. Then it clicked.

Ethan realized what Merlin had done. The old mage had transferred a portion of his own knowledge—specifically, a foreign language directly into Ethan's mind.

"Hello, my name is Arthur," the blond boy said, stepping forward and introducing himself in the language Ethan had just learned.

Ethan blinked, startled. He understood Arthur perfectly, despite never hearing the language before.

*****

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