I stepped inside and froze, my mouth falling open. The room was barely larger than a closet, but every inch of space had been utilized. Brass gears and pulleys hung from the ceiling. Crystal lamps in various colors cast a kaleidoscope of light across worktables cluttered with tools I couldn't name. Scrolls and notebooks were stacked in precarious piles, some open to reveal diagrams and equations so complex they made my head spin.
"This is..." I trailed off, unable to find the right words.
"A bit chaotic, I know," Vic said, squeezing past me. "But there's order in the madness, I promise."
He led me to a device in the center of the room. It looked like nothing I'd ever seen—a confusing array of brass tubes and dials, with anchor crystals of various sizes embeddedthroughout. Attached to one end was a needle poised above a roll of parchment.
"This," Vic said with undisguised pride, "is a long-distance communicator. Or LDC, as we call it."
I leaned closer, fascinated by the intricate mechanisms. "How does it work?"
"Some anchor crystals are powerful enough to receive information across vast distances," Vic explained, adjusting one of the dials. "They store the information in the form of vibrations, which this apparatus translates into physical movement." He pointed to the needle. "When signals come in, these vibrations transfer to the needle, which etches the messages onto the parchment. It's how we've been keeping in contact with our allies."
I ran my fingers lightly over the brass casing, feeling a faint hum beneath my touch. "So this is how you're monitoring my father's case?"
"Exactly. Marcellus has a similar device—much smaller, of course, and disguised as a music box. I checked with him, and made sure he could send updates if something were to happen."
"I've never seen anything like this," I admitted. "My father works with anchor crystals every day, but nothing this sophisticated."
"The Assembly keeps the best technology for themselves," Vic said with more than a hint of bitterness. "They don't want ordinary citizens having this level of communication capability."
He brightened suddenly, gesturing to the other contraptions crowding the small space. "There are plenty of other devices that wayfarers use to navigate the Gallery. Current detectors, void pressure gauges, realm proximity alarms." His hands moved excitedly as he spoke. "They all take considerable skill and time to master."
"Did you build all of these?" I asked, impressed.
"Some. Others I've modified or repaired. Before I joined Cypher's crew, I was studying to be an Assembly scholar. Theoretical void mechanics."
That surprised me. "What happened?"
"I asked too many questions." His smile was rueful. "The Assembly prefers obedience to curiosity."
A soft chime suddenly rang out from the communicator. Vic's eyebrows shot up. "Perfect timing," he said, hurrying to the device. "We're receiving a transmission."
I watched in amazement as the needle began to move on its own, scratching thin lines onto the parchment. The anchor crystals pulsed with light, their glow intensifying.
Vic leaned in close to the parchment as the needle scratched across it, his eyes narrowing.
"What does it say?" I asked, peering over his shoulder at the thin lines forming letters.
He waited until the needle stopped moving, then carefully detached the parchment and held it up to the light. "It's from Sandarus," he said, scanning the message. "Small realm in the shallows. Mostly desert landscape, quite remote."
"Sandarus?" The name was somewhat familiar. "What's the message about?"
Vic's expression brightened slightly. "There's a settlement of Nytherian refugees there. They've established a small community in one of the more hospitable regions near an oasis." He tapped the parchment. "They send periodic check-ins with head counts, resource levels, that sort of thing."
My heart quickened. "Cypher's people? More survivors?"
"Yes. About forty-seven families at last count. According to this, all is well there. No Assembly presence detected, stable food and water supplies." He looked up at me, a small smile playing on his lips. "They've even started cultivating native plants for medicine."
I felt a rush of something like hope. "Does Cypher know about this settlement?"
"Of course. He helped establish it after the fall of Nytheris. It's one of sixteen refugee camps we maintain contact with." Vic carefully rolled the parchment. "This is why the work we're doing is so important. These people have been living in hiding for years, scattered across realms. The new Nytheris would give them a home again."
I tried to imagine it, the families huddled in a desert realm, clinging to the remnants of their culture, waiting for the day they could rebuild. Waiting for Cypher to fulfill his promise.
"How many Nytherians survived in total?" I asked.
"Hard to say exactly. Maybe a few thousand across all realms." Vic's expression grew somber. "They were a small civilization to begin with, and the collapse was... devastating, obviously."
