*Enough.* the Iffrit commanded, *Focus Elgin, on the surface between the reality bubble and the void beyond. What do you see?*
His eyes closed, but still seeing, Elgin frowned, looked to his right, the door was a skin, beyond a nothing that sucked at his mind. Pulling back he looked at the door in front, the door was still a skin, but a skin with two sides, and beyond something like the space he, they, stood in now. To the left, a skin and the chaos of nothingness.
He opened his eyes stepped forward, opened the door and stepped into a rather nicely appointed sitting room, three walls were apparently glass and outside rain fell from dark gray clouds and gray green sea broke in white foam on a stony beach. In each corner, between the walls of glass, field stone fireplaces danced with warm fires in counterpoint to the chill scene outside.
“Do come in old friend.” The man standing facing him from the other side of a cream leather couch lifted a wine glass with something straw pale in it, in salute
Elgin closed his eyes, then opened them again, it was better to look at the mirage man rather than the roughly man shaped bundle of stick thin limbs surrounding a pale blue bulb. In that more ‘real’ version the room was a simple blank box.
“Yes Mr. Chalmers, a little illusion sometimes makes things easier.” Here he was a slim man in a shirt and pants. He was actually very like Cutter in general appearance, though perhaps a little thinner and even more sharply boney.
“You’re one of the aliens.”
“Indeed I am. One of the oldest, I came to claim this rock ball for my people when your ancestors were pond scum. But oldest was already here enforcing his hegemony.”
That was disturbing, “Why did you stay?”
“This was my target, my world, I was made for this world, it for me, I came to claim it, and I will have it, if it takes waiting till you pitiful bone sacks are extinct, until the sun swells to embrace this world in its body, I will claim this world as mine.”
“If you don’t care what shape the world’s in why not go claim Venus, Mars, Jupiter?”
“Because this is a world where life unlocked the underlayment of space and time, even at the beginning so was the promise of now, and now the promise of so much more.” His unoccupied hand was clenched, as was his jaw, he vibrated with emotions; the wine was threatening to slop out of his glass. He took a sip from his wine glass, the thin crystal chattering on his teeth till he had taken a long shallow sip.
The Iffrit spoke through Elgin, “My oldest friend and enemy, I am glad to see that one of your nodes survived.”
“Glad so that you can see me suffer more oh most ancient of monsters, were you afraid that you had put me out of my misery?”
“Just glad that we may have a chance to meet again in one of your saner period’s oldest enemy and friend.”
The creature waved his hand at the room, “You like this illusion old monster?”
“It has the mixture of warmth and dourness we both enjoy in your good times.”
“You admire this? It is finer than any work I have wrought for millenia, perhaps ever.”
“When there were just human mages working with crippled magic there was little audience for such old friend and enemy.”
“The last such was the crystal cave oldest, you remember the crystal cave don’t you?”
“My prison for three millenia, I remember it well oldest enemy and friend.”
“You don’t fear that this is another such?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Why are you here old friend and enemy, why warn me of your existence, for I could have gone on for centuries thinking you destroyed.”
“Why oh why oh why?” the creature chortled, as he faded out of existence.
The fires guttered out, the light faded away and the gray scene outside became just gray rock walls. Elgin turned, the door he had come through was gone. He closed his eyes, chaos was rushing in on every side, though the illusory walls were keeping it away. The door was still there and Cutter had it open, was waving him to the bottom of the stairs. Eyes still closed, he broke into a sprint, at the bottom of the stairs he almost slipped on their worn mossy surfaces. As he went up every lift was a different height, every run a different depth, the surfaces were heaved and broken, mossy and wet. Mist and rain hammered down the stairwell from a storm that crashed and hammered in a world above.
Then Elgin burst out of the mausoleum’s entrance and was on warm dry grass, a couple of kids over the street stared at him in shock as he came to a flailing stop and spun around. The mausoleum was sealed and untouched, he could sense no opening behind the doors, no evil, no coldness.
“Well, not sure what that meant,” Elgin muttered hands on his hips.
*I may have been wrong about your Mr. Hobson, it’s possible that the Djin was the cause of his affliction. If it was here long it may have done more, in its insane phase it likes to play games.* the Iffrit sounded worried.
“Why haven’t you killed it or locked it away forever if it’s such a pain in the ass?” Elgin was feeling more than a little irritated.