The trip through the portal was unlike anything Dave had ever experienced before.

All around, there was just this unmarked stretch of white. Sound was non-existent, even with the swishing movements of Turoth’s robes. None of their footsteps made any noise on whatever surface it was that supported them as they walked.

Looking over at Rob, Dave could see his friend looking around with the same amazement that Dave was feeling. Rob’s mouth tried in futility to produce speech. Dave was able to read his friend’s lips to tell that the large fellow was laying out a slew of profanity.

Turoth nearly appeared casual throughout the trip. But there was enough wonder in his eyes to show that the Spirit was still getting used to traveling like this.

Up ahead, they could see the field of light marked by a dark spot that grew larger as the three of them drew nearer. Further they went until Dave could make out a stone wall that looked as if shelves had been carved into it. In the foreground of that scene were robed figures starting to gather around in waiting.

Turoth exited the field of white and kept walking to make way for the others.

As soon as Dave stepped through, it was like all his senses were given to him for the first time. There were the mutterings of the men and women in robes. The feel of his feet making contact with the marble floor. His nose detected the scent of age that went with the enormous room in which he had just entered. He could sense the people crowding around him and Rob who stepped out behind him. With the portal’s disappearance, Dave recalled the isolation from his senses, and the recollection nearly scared him. Hopefully, he would not have to make such travel into a habit after he and Rob returned to Earth.

The study in the Spirits’ library put Dave’s modest collection to shame and then virtually laughed at it for good measure. Candles were set on the tables and in candelabras to keep the place well lit. The whole room looked like someone had taken a high school football field and loaded the sideline down with books and set tables across the entire gridiron. The analogy made Dave grin inwardly. It was the type of thought Rob was more likely to have when considering his time playing football in school.

"I do believe everything should be ready." Turoth said to the two men. "I just want to make sure that the weapons are here."

"Weapons?" Rob wondered aloud.

"You didn’t think we’d send you in unarmed, did you?" Turoth said.

"It’s just that you never said anything about weapons." Rob returned.

"Just something to put more weight on your side of the scale."

A number of the Spirits came up to Rob and Dave to offer greetings and introductions. Dave recognized a portion of the people as the Spirits who had come to Earth. None of them had aged well at all. The stresses from their labors had obviously taken their toll on each one.

One woman of the brown robes walked up and simply gave them the once over like she was inspecting fruit at the store for bruises. She then turned to Turoth with a sour look on her face.

"I suppose they’ll do." Her voice gave the indication that she was tired of the new visitors already.

"Glad to see you approve." Turoth said. Something about the cheerful way he responded suggested to Dave that Turoth might have been intentionally trying to piss off the other mage.

The annoyed woman then turned away sharply to speak with some of the other wizards.

Rob gave Turoth a gentle tap on the shoulder to get his attention.

"What’s her problem?" Rob ventured.

"Faira and I haven’t been getting along very well." Turoth sighed. "For a time we were… close. But with everything that’s happened, I’d say those days are past."

"Love-hate relationship. I get the picture."

Dave was looking over the bookshelves like an adolescent in a smut store. Gazing over all the titles, yet not sure whether he would be allowed to check out the arcane tomes.

"Is each one of these by a different person?" He asked eagerly.

"Yes." Turoth said. "Each spell book is a different life documented by the person who wrote it. It’s a practice that’s been maintained for thousands of years."

"Amazing, a first-hand, written account of each wizard on this world."

"The human ones at any rate."

"Excuse me?" Dave looked back at Turoth. Rob’s head also shot around at that statement.

"Oh, that’s right. I forgot." Turoth said in recollection. "There aren’t any other races on Earth, are there?"

"What do you mean by ‘races’?" Dave inquired, his curiosity at an all time high. Apparently the Spirit wasn’t referring to anything like ethnic background.

"Elves, dwarves, goblins, and the like."

Dave said nothing. All the new information was leaving him speechless. Rob broke the silence after a moment.

"Well, if I see Bilbo Baggins anywhere, I’m gonna kick his furry-footed ass. That ring was Gollum’s to begin with."

"What?" Turoth asked in confusion.

"Just somethin’ from a story I had to read for an English class. Never mind."

"I pity this Baggins fellow. Now if you’ll excuse me." With that, Turoth walked off and was lost in the crowd of brown robes milling about in wait.

"You’re sick. You know that, don’t you?" Dave said to Rob.

"When I get stressed, I bullshit. What can I say?" Rob replied meekly.

Dave began to wander about the large room and Rob followed, both of them looking like tourists.

"Check this out, Bobby." Dave motioned to the window.

The window’s frame was wrought iron and the square panes were of a rather high quality considering the relatively primitive environment. The glass was most likely the result of some kind of spell-work. It was what was beyond the window that had drawn Dave’s attention.

The sun was just starting to rise over rolling, grassy hills. Off in the distance could be seen a tiny village that looked like something out of Earth’s medieval Europe. But the sky was the most distinguishing feature. The area around the coming dawn was framed with what looked like an aurora borealis, only brighter.

"What is that?" Rob asked in amazement.

"I have no clue what so ever." Dave said, lost in the beauty of the spectacle.

They could not help but to stare out and watch this sunrise they had never witnessed before. It was a silent reverie that neither was actually willing to break off just yet.

"It is nice." Came Turoth’s voice from behind the two.

"We never saw such a thing." Dave admitted.

"The dawn only looks like that one week out of the year. We use it as a sign for the harvest cycle."

"Nice." Rob commented. The sight of such natural majesty put even his blunt humor on hold.

"We’re about ready now."

"I have a question." Dave said.

"What would you like to know?" Turoth invited.

Dave’s demeanor became very solemn, like he was filled with some kind of cautious hope.

"With all these spells, is there one that can turn back time. Something to change the past and make the present different?"

Turoth raised an eyebrow to scrutinize Dave.

"I’m sorry, no. Altering time was a project that was given up centuries ago. As far as anybody knows, the past can’t be changed. The last experiments proved to be too dangerous."

"I see." Dave said gently and lowered his eyes slightly.

Rob went to his friend to put a supporting hand on Dave’s shoulder.

"I’m sorry, man." The muscular fellow said. "I know you wanted to change what happened back then."

"Forget it." Dave pushed Rob’s hand away. "He said we have to line the present, right? So let’s do this for the present."

They followed Turoth back into the center of the study. All of the Spirits were gathered into a tight circle. Dave caught Rob saying something about "Ring Around the Rosy", but Dave did not bother saying anything this time. If this was something that was helping Rob cope with everything that was going on, then more power to him.

A pair of mages stepped away from the circle to allow the two off-worlders entrance. Within the ring were eight, black candles arranged in a rectangle just large enough for Rob and Dave to stand in.

At each of the two ends of the rectangle’s length was a wide metal stand. Dave recalled briefly seeing a number of people in blue and purple robes setting up the stands just before he and Rob started watching the sunrise. On one stand was a simple, wooden staff held in a brown leather strap. On the other was a double-edged sword in a scabbard that looked as wide as Dave’s hand. These were apparently the weapons Turoth had been mentioning earlier.

"Right there. Just stand inside." Turoth pointed to the candles as he joined the ring.

Rob and Dave complied, standing side by side.

"What’s with those, anyway?" Rob nodded towards the staff on his right.

"The first objects ever that the Spell of the Shadows had been cast on." Turoth answered. "You’ll be taking them to Earth with you."

The wizard saw the look of disbelief on Rob’s face, which made Turoth go into more detail.

"I know they must look primitive to you. But these were carried by past Shadowed Ones when there were dangers like what you may have to face."

"So that’s what we’ll be called, Shadowed Ones?" The name made Rob wonder whether they were being to turned into demons or perhaps something worse.

"It’s a title only three others have taken up."

Rob was about to make further comments, but Dave read Rob’s body language and decided to step in.

"We understand. We’ll make the best use we can of the weapons."

"I hope so." Turoth said.

The sincerity in his voice made Dave want to say more, perhaps give some assurance of their success. But the moment was lost when Faira spoke up.

"It’s time to begin." She stated from where she stood in the circle.

The Spirits raised their hands into the air and began a chant in perfect unison, reminding Dave of an old style Gregorian chant.

At first there was nothing more than the incantations. Then the candles started to burn brighter.

"Dave?" Rob whispered.

Dave kept his eyes on the wizards in their spell-work while answering in an equally low voice. For all he knew, anything too loud could start a catastrophe with this spell.

"What is it?"

"You scared?"

"I suppose I should be."

"So what are they sayin’?"

Dave listened a bit to the chant. Hearing the arcane language and reading it were two different things. However he was able to translate one line that he heard.

"Blessing and damnation become one."

"You don’t want to know." Dave whispered.

From that point on, Rob was silent, and Dave was more than happy to follow suit.

The energy gathering around the arch-mages could actually be seen now. Tendrils of magical power in every color of the spectrum circled around their hands and arms. The candles’ flames burned six inches in height as the wax ran down in black rivulets. A wind started to pick up that made Dave’s hair whip about, but left the candles unmolested. The colored tendrils leapt from the Spirits’ hands and were channeled into the candles making them burn higher and brighter.

The ethereal power surged in streams up from the candles to converge on a point directly above the rectangle’s center.

Rob and Dave looked up at the multicolored mass. The energy molded itself into a sphere of light. It then divided into two spires that descended upon the off-worlders to strike both men were squarely in the chest.

Dave felt a pain that surged through his entire body. He was about to shriek out in agony when the pain suddenly dulled and then became this invigorating warmth. It was then that he noticed his clothes were somehow melting away. His watch, his shirt, everything, it all felt as if it had turned to liquid and was running off his body.

He could feel his face redden with embarrassment, but this faded with the knowledge that all he was able to see was the blinding light that surrounded him. Even Rob who stood no more than a foot away could not be seen.

Dave’s skin tingled at the feel of new cloth forming out of the air around him. The new cloth wrapped around not just his torso and limbs. It enveloped even his hands and face. The light could still be seen, for the cloth on his face had somehow parted to allow him to see.

And then it was over. The light from the spell was gone and every sound was muted.

Whatever the spell had done to Dave’s body, it had taken the energy right out of him. He fell to his hands and knees in exhaustion. The only noise he was capable of was his own ragged panting. A similar noise came from his side.

Dave looked over to see a large man hunched over. He was sheathed in a black cloth that looked like it had been woven from the very night.

"Rob?" The big man turned his head to look at Dave. His head was covered in the same black cloth with an opening around the eyes. Dave was able to recognize the eyes as those of his best friend.

"What happened?" Rob’s voice rasped from beneath the mask.

"I think it worked."

Unconsciously, they both reached up to the cloth covering their faces. It was when Dave noticed the clarity in his vision that he moved his hand from his chin up to his eyes. His glasses were gone. Yet, somehow he could see without the blurring he had become so used to seeing.

They both looked at themselves up and down, then at each other. The clothes that they now wore were virtually identical except for two differences. First, while Rob’s hands were bare, Dave’s had on some kind of gloves with the fingers cut away that looked and felt like black leather. Second, Rob was wearing a pair of knee high boots, and Dave had on shoes that wrapped half way up his calves, making his pants puff out a bit. Other than those details, both were dressed in the same dark clothes. There were no visible seams, even where the long sleeved shirts met the loose fitting pants.

Dave was waiting for Rob to make one of his usual comments, but instead heard a moan directly behind them. He suddenly remembered the Spirits and began looking about the room.

The circle of wizards was still there, but they had all fallen from the effects of the spell. Most of them were still conscious. The two ran over to Turoth who was trying feebly to sit up.

Turoth looked up at the two men approaching him and gave a fatigued smile.

"It looks like we were successful." He stated.

"If you could call having everyone knock on their asses successful." Rob said.

"Are you okay?" Dave asked. "How badly do you think everyone was hurt?"

"Don’t worry about us." The Spirit said. "We were all expecting to be drained like this. Just help me up. The lower mages were instructed to enter soon after the casting. They’ll see to us."

Rob and Dave helped the weakened mage to one of the chairs. Once seated, Turoth propped his elbows on the table and leaned heavily forward.

Another Spirit got up shakily to his feet, and Rob helped the mage to sit next to Turoth.

"Take those weapons over there." Turoth pointed to where the sword and staff sat on their pedestals.

Rob and Dave went to the simple weapons. All the candles from the spell were nothing more than smoking pools of wax.

Rob took the staff in hand. That did not surprise Dave in the least. Rob had never used a sword before, and letting him wield such a weapon might prove more dangerous than beneficial. The leather strap on which the staff hung fit snugly over Rob’s shoulder at an angle. The deeply varnished wood glinted with the meager light filtering in through the windows.

The sword sat there waiting for Dave to retrieve it. He took it in both hands to inspect the blade carefully. The handle was long enough for him to wield with both hand, which suited Dave just fine. Drawing the sword from its sheath proved Dave’s suspicions that the weapon was a wide, double-edged item. What was surprising was the complex etching on the blade. One side was emblazoned with the scene of a battlefield while the other displayed a fiery bird. The wings of the etched phoenix extended from the sword’s tip to hilt. The sword’s weight was more than Dave would have been comfortable with, but he felt he could manage. Like Rob, Dave found the strap on the scabbard to be the right size for hanging his weapon across his back. Dave estimated that he could draw the sword quickly if he had to, but sheathing it on his back was going to be difficult if even possible.

With the sword and staff in their possession, the two men walked back to the table where Turoth and the other Spirit sat. A number of other wizards were managing to get to their feet while mages in blue and purple began entering the room.

The lower wizards rushed to the downed Spirits administering what care they could.

"You have to get back and stop what’s happening to the Realms." Turoth instructed the men of Earth. The Spirit reached into the folds of his robe for something. He withdrew two glass spheres about the size of golf balls.

"I made these before preparing for the spell." He explained. "They’ll let the two of you keep in touch if you get separated."

The dark clothed figures took the orbs in silence, still trying to catch themselves up to the events they were experiencing.

"What about this?" Rob asked, pulling at the black suit coving his sculpted frame. "I was hopin’ to go home lookin’ a little more discreet."

"Just remember how you looked before and you’ll be able to transform. Anything you carry in one form will be lost in the change until you change back to the previous form. I added an extra enchantment to the spheres so they’ll be with you in both forms. What’s important now is opening a portal to Earth."

"You said that you’ll need us for you to be able to open the portal." Dave said.

"Yes." Turoth reached up to wipe the sweat away from his forehead. "Just picture the place you left behind, and I’ll do the rest."

Turoth went through the chant that Dave recognized as the portal’s incantation. The shimmering mists sprung into being while Dave kept the image of his bedroom firmly in his mind. Turoth then waved his hand in the direction of Rob and Dave. A strange green glow emanated from the two masked figures, and Dave could feel a distinct tug in the back of his mind, as if the spell were pulling the location of the Chicago apartment from his brain.

The glow faded from the two and the swirling pattern of the portal somehow altered through Turoth’s spell.

"Take Arkin’s spell book and go." The Spirit said softly. "It’s up to you now to stop this before the end consumes us all."

"But where do we start?" Dave asked. Surely, this was all something he had never planned for.

"If I knew, I’d tell you."

"Then it looks like we’ll be on our own."

"You have all that we can give you. Your powers will grow with time, and Arkin’s spell book might be of some help. At the very least, you can come back here if you get into real trouble."

"In that case, you’ll be hearing from us sooner than you think." Rob said.

"Come on." Dave patted Rob’s shoulder. "We’ve got a job to do."

Dave picked up the spell book, which had been in his possession for so long already, up from the table and faced Rob.

The black garbed figures then turned to the portal. Neither one of them was thrilled by the unsettling prospect of traveling between realms. But there was far more at stake than their peace of mind, thus they went through and left the strange world of Neddel.

* * *

Turoth watched the portal vanish and laid his head down on the table. The commotion of attending the weakened Spirits was still going on, but he hardly had the energy left in him to care.

A single voice was heard above all the others. It belonged to one of the lower mages and sounded more frightened than concerned.

"It’s Hirret." She said. "I think he’s dead."

"Hirret." Turoth whispered. He tried vainly to look for the elderly mage. All the casting had not even left him with the strength to raise his head.

Then there was another voice. This one was female also. Turoth recognized it as Faira’s.

"This had better be the right choice." She said. Gone was the firm tone in her speech that showed her inner strength. "You’ll never hear me forgive you if it’s not."

Turoth tried to make some response to defend his decision. However, consciousness escaped the Spirit and he fell out of the waking world.

* * *

Dave let out a deep sigh of relief to be back in his apartment. The portal winked out of existence just as Rob placed both feet on the bedroom’s blue carpet.

"Tell me we just didn’t do what I think we did." Dave said to his friend.

Rob tugged at the mask on his face.

"Trick or treat, Dave." The large man responded. "We’ve go the Halloween costumes to prove it."

"So now we need to take action from here." Dave looked down at the sphere Turoth had given him before he pocketed the magical object. For some reason, pockets on the dark costume seemed strange to the young man while he walked over to his desk and set the spell book down.

"First, we need to get out of these damn outfits." Rob said. "I don’t wanna go out on the street lookin’ like some kinda’ cheap ninja."

Rob vanished in a flash of light. The bright display made Dave glad that he had his blinds pulled down this night. Rob reappeared in his usual T-shirt and jeans attire.

"Damn that’s unsettlin’." The big man grumbled.

"How do you mean?" Dave asked.

"You’ll know when you change."

Dave concentrated on how he remembered looking without the mask. The face of the clean-shaven man with glasses was held in his mind’s eye.

The image was all Dave needed to be lost in the light. Like before, his clothes felt like they were melting from his body. Leaving him standing in the nude for a split second before his old clothes faded into place.

"I see what you mean." Dave said. The familiar press of his black, wire-rimmed glasses had returned as settled back into place.

"So how do you think these things work?" Rob asked, holding up the orb Turoth had given him.

Dave reached into the pocket of his slacks to find his own sphere.

"I’m not sure." The smaller man answered honestly. "If there was something complicated to them, I suppose Turoth would have told us."

Rob brought his sphere near his mouth and spoke out.

"Abracadabra."

Rob’s voice was in two places at once as Dave’s sphere lit up.

"They’re like walkie-talkies or somethin’." Rob noted.

"Crystal clear sound." Dave spoke into his sphere, lighting Rob’s up with his voice.

"This is better than the cell-phone I lost last month." The other man grinned widely before slipping the sphere into his pocket. "Fuck the roamin’ charges."

"So you’re still up for this?" Dave asked grimly, breaking the pleasant atmosphere.

Rob crossed his arms and looked around the bedroom for a moment before answering.

"Yeah, I’m still up for it."

"Then I guess the first thing to do is work out how we’re going to get to New York."

"Leave that to me. I can get everything we need set up by tomorrow, and we can be on our way in a few days."

"I don’t suppose you were planning to do this legally?" Dave said dryly.

Rob laughed at the jibe.

"Hey, my methods get the job done even if they are a little…"

"Criminal?" Dave inserted the word he thought fit Rob’s sentence best.

"Under-appreciated by the government." Rob corrected hastily. "Anyway, I don’t think we’ll be up to anything too civic-minded in the near future."

Dave walked with Rob out of the bedroom.

"I’ll talk to my landlord in the morning." Dave said. "Try and work things out here first."

"You do that." Rob reached for his gray coat on the rack by the door. "I’ll call you after I get home from work tomorrow. I think with a bit of effort, I might be able to get us both transferred to the same place."

"That’ll work."

Dave bid his friend good-bye for the night and sat down at his kitchen table. He took out the communication sphere and set it on the small pile that was the day’s junk mail. Sitting in silence, he began to wonder what the future held for him.

In truth, it was something he never could have guessed.

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