《The Xulaain Chronicler》 1. Hello, Celestial Traveller... I''m actually quite glad that you happen to stumble upon this place... I have been stranded here for quite some time. Welcome to... Well, actually, it doesn''t have a name. It''s a decently large pocket plane out in the middle of absolutely nowhere, probably an offshoot of some random Primordials consciousness. Those Bozos have absolutely no self-control. Their pesky Dreams are always endangering random Systems all over the Verse. And we still have no idea how many of them there are... Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Sorry, I got myself ranting again... Any way. Your presence here is astounding, the fact that you randomly Traveled here is perhaps one in who knows how massive a number. But it does mean one thing... Like that illustrious Thorn Spark''s Manifold Apparatus that everyone is talking about, you can manipulate the space here... Conform it to your desire! Go ahead. What do you want this Baren Void System to look like? 2. A Sea of Trees... Wow... quite breathtaking... It never ceases to amaze me whenever a Traveler, such as yourself, or a Primordial, such as the newly discovered Maim, creates a world. I am a little confused why you would choose this form, but I am also interested in how our, no, your people evolve and adapt to this magnificent landscape, or may I say "Treescape." Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. I apologize, it was a mediocre joke. Anyway, you now see how easy it can be. How you can just think and it happens. Hmm, wait, how does that work? Where is the bottom of these trees? What is at the bottom of those clouds? Oh, sorry, I just got lost in thought. So, Traveler, what will you name your world? Meta Time Aight people. We have the world and the name of said world, but I need a few more things before we start. One of these things is the genre of the story we will write together, which I asked about last chapter. I think this (as in this story) will be revolutionary for the website, and I thank everyone for their participation. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ?? Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters Chapters need 500 characters 3. What an adventure this will be... "Traveller, you are daydreaming again." The mysterious voice said to you in a flat tone. You had yet to see where it was coming from, but His voice was deep and hard. It felt like it came from your mind, which wasn''t very pleasant. "I understand that the beauty of the world that you have created is great, but there are a few more matters to attend to." You stood on a lone branch of one of the few titanic trees that grew up out of the fog-shrouded trees and the expanse below. The limb that you perched upon was gigantic. Its length was probably half a mile long and its twisting body could probably fit an entire house inside. The wind blew through your hair as you stared off to the horizon, the few Titan Trees in the distance loomed like landmarks or skyscrapers on a city skyline. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. "Traveler." "Yes?" you responded, the voice of the form you had taken was airy and slightly feminine. It almost felt like what a giant, majestic bird would sound like if they could talk. "Since this is your first time as a World Shaper, I am taking this slowly with you. Allegory is still a wild and untamed thing here, and like any world created by a Primordial, Allegory wants shape, definition, or Identity. You will need to shape it to your desire." You waited. Staring off into the distance. You smiled a little, you felt excited, so you turned and addressed the Voice: 4. May your travels be filled with much magic... "Hmm, very interesting choice. I guess we will see how Allegory takes shape from this command." The Voice responded to your answer. "Sacrificial... I doubt any Traveler has ever wished for that vein of magic." "Oh, well, It was the first thing that came to mind. And besides, it will be interesting to see where this goes." You said. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "It will." He stated simply. The silence stretched for a few moments. You stared of into the distance, at the billowing clouds below and the at the spare few clouds that drifted across the blue expanse above. "What is your name?" You suddenly ask. "It has been so long since I have been called by name." The Voice responded, "I doubt I an ever remember it..." "Oh." The silence stretched on. 5. Human... You alighted on an upper branch of the tree that you had been standing on, giving you a clear view of the world that you had created. You had realized that the Voice had been falling quiet recently, almost as if He was tired or distant. He had started rushing the Worldbuilding process, pushing you to make more and more things at once, which was a little concerning. "Traveller." You glanced to the side, where a rippling in the air had formed. "Traveller, you are almost done, I just need you to make a few more things." If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "You said that back when I made the Aarkiel. That was 8 days ago." "Yes, yes, This should be the last one." "You also said that 3 days ago, when I named the Titan Trees and made the Aso''une''aawn." A flock of which flew overhead, their great blue plumage flowing in the soft breeze. "Well... Now you are just making excuses Traveller." The Voice responded after a brief pause. "Oh sure, what do you want to make now? You sure are being pushy for a Worldbuilder yourself, why don''t you finish up yourself?" "Humans." The Voice said, dodging the question. "I need you to make Humans." You narrowed your angular eyes a little. Trying to decern his intentions. "Okay..." This felt really fishy, but you couldn''t quite place why. Meta time lets go Ok, I lied about the multiple chapters in one day, sorry. But anyway, these next few chapters won''t have anything in them for time''s sake. And besides, we are almost done with the creative parts of the story! Sooner or later, we will start the actual story, even though these first parts do have relevant story bits to the original plot. That was probably hard to read, but I am kinda rushing on this so I can give you guys the next few polls. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Chapters must be 500 characters long. Chapters must be 500 characters long. Chapters must be 500 characters long. Meta time lets go 2 Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see here,,, Nothing to see he The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I dunno (meta time lets go 3) It hasn''t been 3 days, but screw it, I''m bored, so next poll! Chapters must be 500 Characters long. Chapters must be 500 Characters long. Chapters must be 500 Characters long. Chapters must be 500 Characters long. Chapters must be 500 Characters long. Chapters must be 500 Characters long. Chapters must be 500 Characters long. Chapters must be 500 Characters long. Chapters must be 500 Characters long. Chapters must be 500 Characters long. Chapters must be 500 Characters long. Chapters must be 500 Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Final Checkpoint? Maybe? This might be it people. The beginning of something big, or something niche. I guess we will decide. Please add anything that we might be missing or something that you want to see (maybe) in the story ahead of us. Anything that might lead to holes or simply a bland world beyond the wildness that you guys came up with and voted on. I want this to be a good run, so your input is much appreciated. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Anyway, I will start plugging things in and we will be off in 3 days. Good Luck... Celestial Traveller... 6. The Return of The Brand "Nova! Nova!" Someone yells, trying desperately to drag you from the veil of sleep. "Oh, come on... Nova!" The person shakes you. "Oh Blaze of L''oos, why are you like this?" You suddenly bolt awake, a stinging pain coming from your cheek. You groan and rub at it as you look around. It''s dark. The glow of 3 of the 6 moons just barely illuminates the room. Probably Eirii, Kienaa, and Phentuu due to the coloring of the light, which had a bluish-reddish-golden color. Your eyes slowly adjust until things become visible again. "Finally! By my left arm, Nova, you are so annoying." Melonaa, one of your friends, says as she stands over you, her multitude of brown-haired braids swinging as she rights her posture to avoid being right in your face. She places a hand behind her back as if hiding something. "Buuut, L''Neeri is coming home tonight!" she says excitedly, her tone shifting suddenly. This gets your attention. You throw off your sheets and throw on something more presentable. "Since when?!" you say as your head pops through the neck hole of your overshirt. "I haven''t gotten his letter!" She laughs. "I totally bet that he just wanted it to be a surprise, but as always, he''s terrible at those. He is just so recognizable, and he is a Branded One." Her bubbly accent denotes her Northern Limbs origin. "He is on his way right now!" She claps her hands together gleefully. "I''ll go get ready! We are all meeting him where he is supposed to land!" she adds before turning and running for the central door that leads to the staircase down the Shoot. Standing at the windows of your bedroom, you stare out of the tall oval holes in the Titan Trees wood to the distant horizon of Xulaa, with nothing standing in the way of the view. The sky is clear enough to see all the stars and constellations, celestial travelers across a navy sky. Eirii and her sisters stand in formation in the night sky, casting their light on the endless sea of clouds and trees. You turn and look back at your home. You had been given this small apartment by your grandparents. It wasn''t large but it held everything that you couldn''t get from the communal living spaces. It is situated in the upper segment of the 861st Shoot in the Western Limbs, suspended over the infinite cloudy abyss below by the Titan Trees'' glacial growth up and out towards the sun. The entire house was a quarter of the circumference of the entire shoot, with the outer wall being completely comprised of oval windows that let in the rising sun and the evening wind. An excited thrum runs through your body as you remember what is happening. Your childhood friend is on his way home from his arduous journey as an ambassador to some distant Titan Tree! You run out the door and down the hollow tunnel that was the Shoot that your house was in, it suddenly opens up into crisp, open night air that your room could never quite catch. The Western Limbs open up before you, their absolute vastness seemed to generate gravity, holding you to the titanic branch that your feet were on. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. You run through the wooden streets that carved their way through the Limbs using tunnels, boardwalks, and bridges, guided by the light of the moons and only the barest inkling of where to go. Your lungs started to complain as you spot a small, but restless congregation at an intersection of boardwalks. A perfect landing spot. You turn the corner, leaping over the gap and joining the budding crowd. Jumbled voices can be heard. Pushing your way to the front of it, you catch fragments of conversation. "-And why must he be arriving at this time of night?" "Oh, please, L''Neeri is a Branded One! No need of those inhumane Aso''une''aawn carts-" "-There hasn''t been a Bridging in several lifetimes! Where did you get that-" "Come on baby, you can go back to sleep in a little while..." You slip through a couple, ending up right next to Melonaa. She doesn''t notice you and instead continues to squint at the horizon. Suddenly, her eyes widen and she points into the distance. "Ooh! Look! Here he comes!" Everyone stops. All eyes turn to the moonlit horizon. There. An outline, something moving. Fast. As the thing draws nearer at an alarming rate, you realize what it is. It''s a boy, falling sideways directly at the crowd. "Everybody move! You''re blocking his landing pad!" a gruff voice yells. People immediately start moving. Scrambling to get out of the way. A semi-circle develops around the edge of the boardwalk. People shuffle and push to get a better look at what was happening. L''Neeri comes in fast. Falling through the air sideways as if he was flung by some giant catapult. His spiky white hair and brown and green clothes flap in the wind. He throws his arms and legs out, righting his tumbling "decent." He and you make eye contact for a heartbeat. He sails over everyone''s heads, flailing his limbs in surprise. He falls past the boardwalk, and out over the expanse. Everyone freezes. L''Neeri flails his arms around, awkwardly curving down and backward. His body turns over in the air, your eyes making contact again. The boy falls back at the congregation, tumbling and rolling on the boardwalk. People jump and scramble away, trying not to be hit, before all rushing to help him. They quickly lift him onto his feet. "Are you okay? What happened?" someone asks. "I''m fine," L''Neeri says breathlessly. "One of my friends surprised me- oh hey Grandma," he says, hugging an elderly woman. "Heyyy, L''Neeri!" Melonaa calls from the outside of the bubble of people that had formed around him. "Oh! Hey, you two!" He responds, "Hold on, excuse me." He quickly says to a few people who are talking to him, before leaping up and out of the group as if he weighed nothing. He sails over everyone''s heads, a leaf in the moonlight of the three visible moons. He lands smoothly in front of you. Melonaa and you laugh and clap. L''Neeri flourishes, bowing to the two of you. "Wait, where is Poi''niuu and T''Ervaa?" He asks, both were two of your other friends. "They don''t know you''re here yet, I don''t think," you respond, glancing at Melonaa. "I didn''t wake them up. Besides, look at how late it is!" She supplies, waving a hand at the three moons, all of which made a perfect triangle in the sky. Almost as if awaiting orders from L''oos, the Goddess of the Sun, among other things. L''Neeri chuckles. "They are not going to be happy that you left them out, though." He adds. "But anyway, I have been falling for several hours, so I am going to bed." He salutes, then jumps backward and falls away from you. "See you tomorrow, I guess?" you say. He waves, then falls away into the moonlit eastern limbs, leaving you and Melonaa alone in the night. *** 7. Lights and Sounds L''Oos, Goddess of the Sun, Freedom, Expression, Self, and a multitude of other things stands atop a high branch of one of her Titan Trees. Her golden, flame-like hair flickering and waving in the breeze. The wind was strong tonight, causing the branch that she stands upon to sway slightly. "You can''t delay it forever, ''L''Oos''." A soft, whispery voice spoke. "Begone, I do not wish to speak to you. Not after what you did." She spits, waving a glowing, golden hand, before disappearing into the night like a fire suddenly being snuffed out. *** "Hey, Nova." Poi''niuu waved his hand in front of your face, snapping you back to reality. "Quit daydreaming! I know that L''Neeri is your dream boyfriend, but stop fantasizing about him, he is on his way." You immediately flush. "What? No! He''s not- I don''t-" you scramble. Poi''niuu laughs in his strange, canopy accent. His voice is airy and flowing, like water running over a leaf. "Cut it out Poi," T''Ervaa interjects, frowning. "It''s obvious that Nova has feelings for him, we shouldn''t tease her." "Hahaha, yes, I''m just teasing. It''s true though, right Nova?" He smiles innocently, turning to you. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "Nope, sorry, nope, nopety-nope!" You wave your hands frantically. "Not even close." "Where is L''Neeri? It''s almost Sunhigh!" T''Ervaa sighs, changing the subject. "He was falling all night! Cut him some slack." Melonaa replies. T''Ervaa huffs, he leans on a branch that overhangs the boardwalk, pulling his arms behind his shaggy head. Suddenly, a loud sneeze from behind you makes everyone look up. "Were you guys talking about me?" L''Neeri says. Poi''niuu runs up to his friend and punches him in the arm. "Good to see you Mr. ''Branded One.''" L''Neeri rubs his arm, "Likewise, Mr. ''My parents gave me a girls name.''" Poi''niuu immediately scowls. Melonaa wraps L''Neeri in a hug, which makes him cringe slightly. T''Ervaa walks forward and waves silently. Poi''niuu makes an insensitive comment, but your attention is diverted elsewhere. All around you, faint glimmers of golden light have popped up. Alien whispers grow in volume as you observe the little specks of light. You grimace. The whispers form barely conceivable words among a sea of chaotic sounds. "...Light..." "...severance..." "...Nova..." "...stars..." "...be free..." "...be free..." "...be free..." "...be free..." "...be free..." "...Sa''Bel..." "...Sa''Bel..." "...severance..." "...severance..." "...Light..." "...L''Oos..." "...Light..." "...severed... stars..." "...Severed Stars..." "... severance..." "Nova? Nova! Hey, what''s up?" L''Neeri says, his voice seeming distant. Poi''niuu spoke again. "She has been daydreaming all morning..." His voice was even more distant. You feel a soft tugging behind your navel, almost like something was pulling you. 8. Domain Blackness. You float in an empty void. Nothing moves except for your eyes. A voice suddenly speaks into your mind. It feels like it comes from inside you. "Hello, Nova Nix''arith." Tiny pinpricks of light suddenly appear, like tiny stars in the night sky, before shooting away from you into the emptiness. A barrage of specks flies away from you in increasingly many streams of white light. It is almost as if you are traveling so incredibly fast, but you feel no motion. The deluge continues for a few heartbeats, steadily increasing, then suddenly, the void is replaced by light. Pure, unbroken, white light. It stretches endlessly into what seems like infinity without end. Like the core of a star. In the middle of this infinite space stands a pale throne. Constructed of a twisting, off-white, unknown material that snakes up and around itself in tall bone-like swirls, spines, and patterns. Upon the throne sits a creature. The creature is pale and appears to be malnourished. In the creases of its irregular bones are black patches that stir and move like pools of ink. Its arms are long and thin. On its head sit a multitude of angular horns that make a bony fan. Each horn is sharp and points straight up toward the heavens. Its face is horrible. Above a grinning, toothy mouth is a blank, white face with no eyes, nose, or ears. An empty face. Its legs are crossed and its long, bony arms are calmy resting on the armrests of its terrible throne. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Panic begins to rise in your chest, but you are frozen, unable to move. The Creature continues to gaze at your floating form. Your skin crawls under its intense, eyeless stare. "I feel as though you are ignoring me..." it says. The Creature''s disturbing grin never twitching or moving. "Oh, yes I apologize..." You suddenly drop out of your invisible bonds onto an invisible floor on hands and knees. Kneeling at the same level as the throne. "Please forgive me, I am unused to being in the company of people." You gasp for a breath, but find you don''t feel like you need to breathe. "You should be honored, Nova Nix''arith, for I came to you." He says, his voice is sharp and hard, like broken glass cutting through the air, and his tone is condescending, almost like he is talking to a child Suddenly you are standing before the throne. There was no feeling of movement, just destination. His smile slightly increases, and he looks down at you with his blank, white face. Your body shakes with fear, and yet, you cannot tear yourself away from his awful gaze. "You should be honored, that I, an Aarkiel of my caliber, have come to you!" He says. Fear pierces you, you were in the presence of an Aarkiel! And one with intelligence... He seems to read your mind, "Oh please! You wound me, Nova! An Aarkiel with Intelligence... " He trails off. "Speak!" You feel like a plug has been pulled, but you refrain from speaking. His smile widens, and he chuckles darkly, "Oh dear. That''s quite rude... Well then, let us begin again, shall we? My name is Tyrr''olni''nel''mul," he says. His voice echoes oddly throughout the empty space. "You, Nova, have a very interesting Allegorical Signature." "A what?" you whisper. "Oh, finally! You speak!" He exclaims. "What do you mean ''I have a very interesting Allegorical Signature''? What does that mean?!" You cry. "How did I get here? Tyrr''olni''nel''mul laughs loudly and stands from his Throne. "Your soul, Nova, is incredibly similar to a... close friend of mine." You blink. He continues without explaining further. "I forcefully created a bind point. I moved my domain through Travel Space, close enough to the physical universe in order to pull your consciousness through." He grins wide. "I offer you a deal. Give me access to your soul, your Allegory, and you will receive a Token. Or, I could send you back, out of my domain, back out of Travel Space, and I won''t aid you in the approaching storm." He states ominously, still smiling. "The choice is yours, Nova." 9. A Pact, Sealed You stand frozen under this creature''s eyeless stare. You want to run, scream, hide; anything, but you stay where you are. "And now I ask: What would you choose?" He asks. You try to form words, but nothing comes forth immediately. Finally, you manage a response, "What is it that I''ll gain by giving you my soul?" "As I said... You will receive a Token." He starts, "Your good friend L''Neeri has one-" "Don''t bring L''Neeri into this!" You blurt. "With the Token I give you, you will become a Branded One, as you humans call it, and you will gain the ability to manipulate Allegory. I will also aid you in the coming storm." He continues, his constant grin having subsided a little as if he was ever so slightly annoyed. "In return, I will gain access to your soul, and be able to read it, among a few other, insignificant, things." You pause, just barely considering it. This Aarkiel, Tyrr''olni''nel''mul, or whatever he calls himself, is supposed to be incredibly dangerous, but he has done nothing that feels outright hostile. He looks terrifying and downright disgusting, but he has offered great power to you. You have seen what L''Neeri could do, even though you don''t understand it. This "coming storm" feels really bad, and apparently, this Aarkiel could help you. You still have no idea what in the world "having access to your soul" meant, but it didn''t feel too bad... This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. "Fine." "Oh? I wasn''t expecting that! Very well, Nova Nix''arith, this next part might hurt a bit." Suddenly, a stabbing pain erupts from your left hand. Burning, black lines suddenly appear on your palm. They slither up your arm, pulling the burning with them. When they reach your shoulder, the pain becomes unbearable, and you fall forward onto the floor. The burning continues as the lines converge on the nape of your neck, Tyrr''olni''nel''mul stares without reaction to your screams of pain, then suddenly, it stops. Gone is the pain. Silence. You breathe heavily as you try to get up, your arms are weak, but you slowly manage. "Rise, Nova Nix''arith, Branded One of Tyrr''olni''nel''mul!" *** "Nova?" L''Neeri asks. You jolt back to reality, looking around. You are back. The multitude of streams of light cascades through the nigh-infinite leaves of your home. The canopy is so very far above you. "Hey, Nova did you sleep well last night?" "N-no?" you say, rubbing the nape of your neck. You can tell L''Neeri is unconvinced. Poi''niuu looks annoyed. "We have been standing here for, I don''t know, 20 minutes waiting for you L''Neeri? Let''s go, I want lunch!" "Same," T''Ervaa adds. "Hold on, boys-" Melonaa starts. "No! It''s fine!" you blurt, cutting her off, "Let''s go... Have lunch. I''m hungry too..." You and L''Neeri make eye contact. Silently agreeing, "We will talk about this later." A cool breeze blows through the uncountable branches of the Titan Tree as you walk with your friends to the reunion lunch for the group. L''Neeri is back, you remind yourself. You feel an odd weight in your pocket. Feeling it, you find a round, textured object that feels cold against your hand. The Token. "Later, you will deal with this later." You tell yourself. Right now, just enjoy the moment. 10. Tokens and Legends The lunch was a fun reunion for everyone else, but it was spoiled for you. You engaged in conversation only enough to sound okay to Melonaa, you didn''t want her prying into what you had on your mind, but the eyeless stare and heavy words of Tyrr''olni''nel''mul weigh on your mind as if it was trying to drag it down into the depths below the Titan Trees. After a hearty bowl of Jalapur soup, your friends part ways. Off to the various jobs that they owe to keep the Tree and its people alive in the name of L''Oos, but L''Neeri stays behind as promised. You make your way back to your room with him in silence. The awkwardness sat stagnant at "oh boy." Once there, you sit down on your bed, and finally, you and L''Neeri take your first look at the Token. In your hand sits a gleaming circle of light grey-blue, something. You have never seen anything like it. Its surface is so polished you can see your reflection on its hard, cold surface. It is about the size of a common mushroom cap, barely covering your palm. You poke at it with your index finger, sliding its weirdly smooth, yet textured surface across your hand. "Is this, "Stone"?" The fabled material used by L''Oos and her sisters to make the moons and seal Sa''Bel at the bottom of the world? "Wow..." you say, turning it over in your fingers. Its surface was covered in tiny bumps and ridges that make up a strange, alien pattern. "This Aarkiel, what did it look like?" L''Neeri suddenly says. You carefully tell him about what had happened. He listened intently until you got to your new Patron''s name and description. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "Oooh... That isn''t very good," he says slowly, his face scrunching up. "Well you see, my Patron, Ure''nairn''itah''likk-" "Wait, you just remember that?" You cut him off. "Uh," "Ure''n... what? What kind of name is that?" You ask incredulously. He looks at you confused, "Aarkiels can name themselves however they want... Anyway. My Patron is Not on good terms with yours." "Huh? Why?" "I have absolutely no idea why. But let''s hope it doesn''t affect us. Continue." "Oh, uh." You continue on. After a lengthy description of the end of the interaction with Tyrr''olni''nel''mul, L''Neeri gets up to explain what a Token is. "Tokens are objects, like these," he explains, holding up your little Stone circle and a long chain of black beads on a hidden string, "that grants a Branded One the ability to manipulate Allegory. You have heard the stories, right?" You nod. These were the classic bedtime stories that mothers told children who just wanted something exciting to listen to. The stories of great Branded Ones who flew through the sky on captured clouds, giant grey birds, and bountiful streams of water. The Branded Ones saved the people from distant Trees that were burning down to Sa''Bel''s domain. They were the stuff of legends and bedtime stories. "The effect of manipulating Allegory," He continues, "is specific to the Token and Aarkiel that created it. My Token gives me the ability to control Gravity. Like this." The chain of beads suddenly seems to fall upwards. Dangling towards the ceiling between his fingers. He lets go and it falls upwards towards the ceiling, hitting it and lying there like it was on the floor. "Oooh..." you say, impressed. "The Token does not need to be on your person for you to be able to use your abilities." He waves his hand, and the bead chain slides around on the ceiling, coming back and stopping just above him. "So if I were to leave, then gravity would still work here even though I am gone!" He moves his hand, causing the beads to fall, and he snatches them as they pass by. "Now, your Token, I have no idea what it does." He sighs and rubs his forehead. "Now we could try having you test it... But it is extremely dangerous." He paces back and forth. "How do you use your powers?" you ask, taking the Stone circle from L''Neeri. "It''s really hard to explain. I just kinda, focus, and then it happens." His expression turns grim. "If something goes wrong when you''re testing your new abilities, it could result in death. Not just you, but possibly the people around you too. So, please be careful. I know that sounds dramatic, but really, I mean it." He glances at the stone again. 11. Light As you hold the small stone circle in your hand, you feel drawn to it. You slowly close your eyes, holding the circle with both of your hands. A warm, alien feeling washes through your body. You can sense the power of the stone, its strength, its resilience, and its potential. "Now what else am I forgetting... By L''Oos''s left arm! I just told you not to do that!" L''Neeri shouts. You open your right eye to brilliant yellow-golden light pouring from your hands around your Token. Your brown hair stands up straight, and all you see is gold light. "Woah! Uh, L''Neeri?" you say waving your hands around. "What did I just say?! Ow!" L''Neeri yells from somewhere nearby. "Oh, man, it burns!" "How do I turn it off?!" You yell, stumbling over your bed and stubbing your toe, and dropping your Token in the process. "Just, ow, do the thing that you just did!" L''Neeri says angrily. You do, for it is surprisingly easy, and the blazing hot, golden light cuts off. As your pupils dilate and readjust, you spot L''Neeri squirming on the floor, his skin steaming lightly. "Ugh," L''Neeri groans. "Yup, that hurts," he curses, wrinkling his nose at the faint smell of burning flesh. He shakes his head indignantly, strangely floating up from a sitting position to his feet. "Blatant Allegorical Discharge, don''t ever do that again, Nova." "I-" You start, flustered. "Nope, not right now. I did the same thing." He cuts you off. Your cheeks burn red as you sink onto your bed. "But, on the bright side, we now know what you are." "What, am I?" you ask sheepishly, glancing at your old friend. "You''re a Type 4 Branded One, an Evoker. You can manipulate Light." He states, waving his right hand. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "So I''m like, powerful then?" You laugh nervously, unsure of what to feel. "Your pretty standard, but you can be powerful if you hone your abilities."L''Neeri sighs. "And, by the way, next time focus more on what you want to do instead of just on your Token." "Yes, Sir!" you give a mock salute. You both chuckle and sigh. A cool breeze blows through the wooden windows of your room, caressing the nape of your neck. L''Oos''s mount falls across the sky towards the horizon, casting his blazing orange light over the expanse of clouds and trees. Evening, twilight, and peace fall over Xulaa. As the darkness creeps in from all sides, even the faintest lights begin to spark up around the Western Limbs, and the people delve into their homes to rest after a long day. The world is at peace... "I need to go, I haven''t seen a few people in a while. I want to go catch up we them." L''Neeri says, breaking the tranquil moment. "Oh, ok. I''ll see you tomorrow?" You respond, not looking away from the horizon. "You can count on it!" The boy jumps out of your window, to your surprise, and falls upwards out of sight. "Why did he have to do that? The door is right there!" you say to yourself, gesturing to the door. You sigh, grabbing a wooden cup and filling it with dew water from a wooden basin. You let your mind wander as you drink the water down thirstily as you look out over the endless sea of clouds, roiling and boiling over something that none have ever seen. The Abyss. The doctrine states that whoever goes beneath that sea of clouds is lost forever, for they have gone to Sa''Bel''s Domain, and therefore, they have died. You shiver. You were not very religious, but you did fear death. An unknown place where no Traveller ever returns with stories of what is beyond it. It had been such a long time since a Bookmongerer came to your home, you had nearly exhausted your collection of fantastical novels and books that you had been given by your Mother. You finish the cup of water, placing it back on the small counter. You turn and grab a random book from a small bookshelf that looks grown out of the wall. All of the books that you had been given are a little strange, since your Mother was a big daydreamer, telling stories of places with things like "grass" and "rocks" that didn''t make much sense to you. Of strange places and worlds you could never quite imagine, they all had cool and weird names like Fexxis, Unibora, Luzial, and Michigan. It made you wonder about those lands, what they were really like, how there weren''t any Titan Trees...and how she got her hands on them in the first place. A sharp, musical cry sounds from outside your window. You look up to see a giant Aso''une''aawn wheel out over the clouds, its cyan blue plumage and long tail stalks reflecting the dying sunset light. You sit at your table, watching the majestic avian creature fly and glide with no care in the world, going where he wants as fast as his wings can take him. He seems so happy doing what he loves, which is flying. The Aso''une''aawn are the patron animal of L''Oos because of how free they are... Oh, how you want to fly. You watch him go away, leaving you alone in your room with only the sunset to give a warm glow to the room. "Goodnight, Xulaa," you say softly into the darkness, then you move off to bed. Dreaming. 12. Dreaming of Undiscovered Worlds *** You drift into sleep, drifting off to undiscovered worlds. You stand before a burning figure, her body completely composed of flame. She has turned away from you with her arms crossed. You understand that she is not upset with you but just preoccupied with other things. Beside you, on either side, sit Aso''une''aawn. Both seem restless and potentially worried. "L''Oos, your Shards are moving." One says in a thick, masculine voice. His plumage is effervescent vermillion that is striped with swaths of deep, royal blue. "I am aware." She answers curtly. "And so is Sa''Bel." "They''re getting closer to each other, faster than we''d expect." The other adds, her voice crisp and cool just like her dark purple down. "We want that. It brings Rebirth closer." They both nod. Standing up on long, spindly, avian legs before launching themselves into the sky. *** You feel weightless. Falling, floating, flying on the wind. You throw your great wings out, catching the air and using it. Your wings beat strongly against the rushing air, pushing you toward the horizon ahead. Stolen story; please report. The feeling of freedom is almost palpable as you glide and soar over a vast cloudy abyss. A grey Aso''une''aawn joins you with stark, washed-out feathers and a shadow black and bone white crest on its head. The newcomer flies below you to your right, keeping its distance. You press on. The night air rushes through your feathers as you soar. "Nova." It''s the stark Aso''une''aawn. His voice is scratchy, grating even. "You have drawn the attention of Dark Forces. The Storm approaches." Your breath catches in your throat. You are no longer a majestic avian creature. You stand on a blank white floor amid an endless white void. Upon the throne sits Tyrr''olni''nel''mul. Your Patron. Tyrr''olni''nel''mul sits placidly on his terrible throne. He looks up at you, expression unchanging. "The Storm approaches." *** You wake in a cold sweat. The Storm approaches. Darkness still prevails throughout your room. You slowly drift back to sleep. This time without dreams. *** You awaken to the soft light of morning. The Sun''s blazing light spills in like streams of dew. You stretch languidly while lying in bed. You yawn and roll onto your side. Then you sit upright again and rub your face vigorously. You sigh softly and shake away the remnants of drowsiness. Cold dread and the memory of the dream still linger instead of evaporating like morning mist to the Sun''s rays. You glance around your home. It feels empty. Empty except for yourself. You walk across the bare wooden floors, past your simple kitchenette, past your bookshelf, and to the windows. Your Patron''s grinning face flashes in your mind''s eye. The Storm Approaches. You breathe, trying to ease the dread, trying to let the stress melt away, when your eyes rest on a dark smudge on the clouds below. It moves, circling around the Titan Tree in a wide berth. It is too far away for you to make it out completely. The Storm Approaches. Tyrr''olni''nel''mul flashes through your mind, his horned head propped up with a bony-white hand. Your pulse pounds in your head. The thing out there is an enemy. 13. Enemies Abound The thing out there is an enemy. In a blind impulse of fearful self-defense and foolish passion, you throw out your right hand, pointing it at the dark smudge down in the abyss. Blazing, golden light erupts from your outstretched hand, streaking down at the enemy. The bolt of pure, effervescent light crackles forth, closing the distance nigh instantly. But it is for not. The bolt streaks by the smudge, just ever-so barely missing its mark. You had aimed where it was, not where it was going to be. You blink. How had you made that light? The smudge has stopped its wide circling of the Titan Tree. It sits there for a heartbeat, doing nothing that you could make out from your windowsill, before suddenly moving again. This time towards the Tree. You narrow your eyes, straining to make out what it was that you shot at. The smudge approaches, fast. A knock comes from behind you. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Nova?" A familiar voice calls. "Come in!" You snap quickly. The door opens, revealing L''Neeri. "Good morning! What are you-" A crash accompanied by the sound of broken wood sounds from behind you, causing you to jump. You whirl to come face to face with a man wreathed in black feathers. A sudden lurch assaults you and you fall out over the abyss. Your stomach drops as your body tumbles. You reach out desperately and catch something. The bird-like newcomer flaps his massive raven wings, defying L''Neeri''s altered gravity. He shoots back at your room, pulling you along with him. You land on the wooden floor hard as he drops you. Jumping towards L''Neeri. L''Neeri grunts as he is grabbed and slammed into the floor. Both of them fall up to the ceiling, left and right to the walls, up and down in some alien dance. Both attempt to beat the other into submission using the walls of your room. Feathers swirl as they are plucked free from this avian man, he lets out an ear-piercing screech as he throws L''Neeri out of your door and down the stairs. He turns to you, malice boiling in his eyes of night. You throw out your hand, releasing the fear and stress as a cloud of blazing white light. The man screeches again, screaming in alien gibberish as you fill his eyes with blinding light. He stumbles backward, clutching at his eyes as you watch him fall out of the hole that he made in your wall. The birdman falls down into the abyss, struggling to orient himself in the air, before shakily flapping away from the Tree. L''Neeri groans as he trudges up the steps. "Nova," he breaths, holding his side, "I have reason to believe, we have made a very dangerous enemy." You go over to him, prodding his side and causing him to wince. Your arms are scratched and bleeding. "...what?" you respond after a heartbeat. "That was one of the Accursed. Some of the most infamous Branded Ones ever." He says through gritted teeth. "And now they know where to find us." 14. The BenMarmenent Your eyes widen as dread sets in. The two of you got very lucky with the bird man, there was no way you could possibly survive against more of them. "We need to get somewhere safe..." You say hesitantly. "We can stay here, I need to contact my, ow, comrades for support. We can only expect the Accursed to come back for us." L''Neeri groans as he sits against the wall holding his left side. "We need to get you to an infirmary-" "Sel''Ozsia is a Grabber, she can heal me when she gets here." He responds, cutting you off. "We just need to hope the rest of the Ben''Marmenent can save us..." *** You still didn''t quite understand what L''Neeri was talking about when four very strangely dressed people suddenly appeared in the square. The square itself is one of many large pavilions made entirely out of a branch of the Titan Tree. It holds several establishments such as a dye shop, a restaurant, and a small church dedicated to L''Oos. As you and L''Neeri limp into the square, the four newcomers approach the two of you. They move with an air of power around them, moving and shaping the crowd around them as they walk. The shortest of the four, a petite woman wearing bright vermillion robes, breaks off from the others and rushes to the two of you. She puts a hand on L''Neeri''s head, causing him to suddenly sigh and relax before straightening. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "Thank you Sel''Ozsia. The Accursed broke some of my ribs in our fight." "Greetings, L''Neeri. It is so good to see you yet again." Rumbles the tallest of the bunch in a deep baritone. His massive dark-skinned hands are pressed together in front of him as if he is praying. A string of large emerald green beads is wrapped around his arms and hands. "And yet, I feel as though we are in serious danger." "Of course, we are Dah''Grahs! L''Neeri''s girlfriend here," You flush, "Just angered an Accursed!" The other man in the group responds in a slithery voice. His features are angular and sharp, and he looks like he has a joke to tell you. The other woman, a tall, motherly lady with very long red hair, and a slender frame simply smiles warmly at the two of you. "Nova, this is the rest of the Ben''Marmenent." He gestures at them, "This is Sel''Ozsia," The short woman waves. "Dah''Grahs," He bows his head. "Yyl," The slithery man grins at you, moving his hand through his black hair. L''Neeri pronounces his name like ''why-el", which you think is pretty cool. "And Nii''Ma." she nods. "It is wonderful to meet you, Nova!" Sel''Ozsia replies with enthusiasm. She reaches a hand out to touch your arm. You immediately feel the stinging pain of the scratches on your arms fades. "It is an honor to meet the comrade of L''Neeri." Dah''Grahs rumbles, his hands still in praying formation. "Pleased to meet you," You reply kindly, if awkwardly. "I guess..." Yyl gives you a friendly wink as he approaches and offers his hand. You take his hand slowly, and he shakes it, very fast. He appears to jitter slightly every few seconds. As he releases your hand, you notice his eyes flickering rapidly as well. "Yyl is... Well, Yyl." L''Neeri interjects with a slight laugh. "Oh, and Nii''Ma can''t talk." Nii''Ma doesn''t react and instead starts observing a small brown bird that lands nearby with excited fervor. "The Accursed know where to find us. If we stay put we can maybe hold out against their attack." "We need to begin preparing Immediately!" Sel''Ozsia pipes up. Everyone nods. This will not be an easy fight. 15. Niima L''Neeri and the rest of the Ben''Marmenent disperse, leaving you and Nii''Ma alone in the Square among the crowds. Nii''ma looks up from observing the bird and glances at you. She tilts her head curiously at you. "...What?" you ask. She rubs her left arm and wrist with her other hand, looking at you. You suddenly remember the black bands that you had been given by Tyrr''olni''nel''mul when you became a Branded One. "Oh! Uh, these?" you say holding your left hand up. She nods quickly before pulling out a large blockbook, or a set of pages contained using sheets of wood. "What can you do?" she scribes with a stick with a burnt end on the paper. She holds the book up for you to read, and you notice her handwriting is very neat and concise. "Oh, I can make light! I''m no good at it yet..." Charcoal. A dangerous material to produce. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. She continues. "Show me." she writes. You do. It comes surprisingly easy now, and a flash of white light illuminates the surroundings for a heartbeat, people around you stop and glance at the two of you. Nii''ma nods frantically, eyes alight with excitement. "Heat." She writes before pointing at herself. The air around you suddenly chills and then flares in temperature for a moment. "Was that you?" you ask. She nods as she keeps writing. You suddenly hear her stick break. She grimaces, waving the thin rod with a blackened end around in the air. As she does so, you notice the end alighting with terrible fire before quickly dying again to be used for communication. You cringe a little. Fire is a dangerous force that should never be tampered with. *** L''Oos, Goddess of the Sun, Freedom, Expression, Self, and a multitude of other things stands atop a high branch of one of her many Titan Trees. The Sun is at its peak, marching to the horizon. "Mistress, something is worrying me..." A raspy, grating voice speaks from behind her. "Speak, Tyrr''olni''nel''mul." Her voice is tight, strained, she knows what he is about to say. "Something has entered the Solar System, and it carries a level of Allegory that is unheard of outside of the Tempi Ring. This newcomer is a danger to humanity here." He continues. L''Oos sighs, running an effervescent hand through flaming hair. "We hide." "What?" "We do not acknowledge its presence. We already have too many things to worry about here." "...Yes, Mistress." "We must hope, hope with all our combined might, that it isn''t what I think it is..." *** 16. Building Tension As you continued to chat with Nii''Ma, you couldn''t shake the anxiety of the situation. "Do you fight other Branded Ones often Nii''Ma?" you ask. You sit on a solid bench constructed entirely out of the wood of the Titan Tree, it feels strangely alive and comfortable as you sit across from your new friend. "Yes." She writes it down in her book. "I have killed too much." Her eyes are solemn and have a guilty dullness to them. You furrow your brow as you lean forward, resting your chin on your palm. "Why do you keep fighting if it''s bad?" "Because we are forced to." she jots down, "Other factions want territory, resources, etc that we or others have." You stare blankly at the page. "I don''t understand. Why do they want more when they already have what they need?" Nii''Ma furrows her brow, looking at her page. "Human." She simply writes after a moment. You didn''t quite understand, but you stopped asking anyway. You take your leave, happy to have made a new friend, and confront the thickening tension. You can''t seem to find any of the other Ben''Marmenent as you stroll through the Eastern Limbs. Soft music drifts on the breeze that ruffles the leaves of the Titan Tree. The music is airy, a flute, perhaps. You listen as you walk, and the feeling of impending doom fades into the background. As you wander, you come across the man who was playing the music. He sits on a bench with a few people around him as he plays his instrument with practiced care. The opalescent tones and his poetic prose flow and weave a tale of wonder and magic. "As the man crests the grassy hill, he spots the tower in the distance..." The man says, picking his flute back up. The music is now thick with anticipation. Unsure notes cross with fluttering, long tones. The man pauses, "Our hero knows what is about to happen, but he does not know if he is ready to face his greatest adversary yet..." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The tension in the music is at its max, notes refuse to resolve satisfyingly. The final note hangs in the air, then drops to nothing. "The knight approaches the tower..." A long, slurred note plays. "He reaches for the giant door handle..." A cascade of soft, fluttery notes. You are practically leaning forward at this point, The flute player''s eyes flick to you. "Nova!" A familiar sound breaks the tension. You whip your head around to find L''Neeri floating over the abyss, his stark white hair and brown clothes undulating. "They are here." People around you are confused, they murmur and whisper. "Is this a part of the performance?" "Isn''t that L''Neeri?" "Who is Nova?" L''Neeri alights on the branch like a leaf on a pool of water, offering a hand to you. "Come on, we need to get down to the others." "Down?" "Here, just trust me." L''Neeri smiles and grabs onto your wrist, pulling you along off the end of the branch. Suddenly you are falling. Everyone on the branch above, including you, screams in surprise as you and L''Neeri plummet down to Sa''Bel''s domain. The wind rushes by as the branches of the Titan Tree recede into the sky. "L''Neeri? What are you doing?" You scream. "Don''t worry about it!" he replies with a smile. "I am most definitely worrying about it!" You clutch your arms to your chest as you fall, screaming as the wind whips your body. You frantically look over at L''Neeri, who seems indifferent to the certain doom he has condemned you to. He falls in a completely controlled plummet with his eyes closed and hands behind his head. He doesn''t even glance over at you. Sereneness comes over you. Your mind has accepted that you were going to die. Your home is now so very far away... The clouds below draw nearer and nearer as L''Neeri reaches out and touches your wrist. Your descent suddenly slows to a slow float, almost like how a leaf falls. The clouds envelop the two of you softly, replacing the afternoon light with pure, wet, white. You could no longer see L''Neeri, nor tell up from down. You whip your head around, searching for some reference point to direct reality, until you suddenly burst from your moist containment into an overcast world. Gargantuan tendrils of solid wood arc and snake through open air like titanic wingless dragons from the stories. Entangling themselves in an alien dance above the abyss whose sheer scale hurts your mind. A landscape too massive to comprehend all at once. You gasp, trying to take it all in. Underneath you are four pillars of effervescent color. The Ben''Marmenent. You and L''Neeri alight on the gigantic root with the rest of them. You stumble, breathing hard. "Vertigo, it is the most prevalent of the feelings felt when first beholding the Underworld. You will get used to it, in time, Nova." Dah''Grahs rumbles as you struggle to maintain your footing. "Oh, your poor thing..." Sel''Ozsia murmurs as you gasp for breath. "Thanks," you huff, rubbing your chest. "How far did we fall..." "Three leagues," L''Neeri states simply. "We fell for five minutes." You glance up, but the canopy is obscured by the heavy cloud layer. A feeling of insignificance overcomes you. "Now, where are these Uyr''kiis..." Yyl curses, punching one hand into the other. Nii''ma simply points. There, some distance away, stands a group of 6 people. The Accursed. 17. We are not Cursed Your breathing quickens as you spot the raven-black feathers of the birdman that you attacked among the group. "I say we settle this peacefully!" The man in front of the group yells from his sitting position. The presumed leader of The Accursed wears a blindfold over his eyes and he rests a long wooden spear over his shoulder. "Give us the girl and the boy, and we will spare the rest of you!" The other members stare at you and L''Neeri. A bald man with loose robes cracks his knuckles. "It is a trap," Dah''Grahs whispers. "Or, we can just kill all of you. The choice is yours, my friends." "Hell no!" Yyl shouts back, his body suddenly blurring. As he says it, the birdman lurches forward with a shriek, only to be stopped by the sitting man. "Last chance! You will not die painlessly." You throw out your left hand, a bolt of golden light erupting from your fingers. It streaks at the man, who doesn''t seem to react. The bolt passes through him as if he isn''t even there. "Fine," he states simply, seeming defeated. He points with his spear and the Accursed charge. *** "What is it doing?!" L''Oos, Goddess of the Sun, Freedom, Expression, Self, and a multitude of other things yells as the sun marches to the horizon. "The thing has stopped and is now camping outside of the Bind Point?!" "Mistress, If I may--" A grating voice speaks from behind her. "Yes, Tyrr''olni''nel''mul." "Our, unidentified object, has begun making routine treks around the Bind Point, laying strands of unbound Allegory around it in patterns that match the Seal, but with reverse polarity. I fear the worst: It is planning on sidestepping the seal." "Can you stop it? Interrupt it?" "I have already tried. It has a mastery of Allegory and a wealth of it that I have not ever seen before. It has put up a barrier that will take weeks to break through with regular refueling. I still don''t understand how anything could have more Allegory than something made out of it, such as myself." "Then there is no escaping it. We will need to manifest an Aarkiel in the Physical Plane to stop it once it comes through. Someone other than you, of course, I need you here, Tyrr''olni''nel''mul." If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "I will see to it. Do you have any in mind?" "Summon the All-Mother," L''Oos responds after a pause. This is going to be an absolute disaster. *** Fight for your life. Yyl suddenly flashes forward with blazing speed, meeting the charging Accursed in the middle. The Birdman screeches, his ebony feathers swirling as he and Yyl clash. The rest of the Ben''Marmenent follow in Yyl''s footsteps, engaging the terrible foe. "Cover me!" L''Neeri shouts as he soars over the heads of Yyl and the Birdman. "They have a Diver!" shouts one of the Accursed as L''Neeri takes to the air. Launching pale white projectiles out of her cloudy tentacles. Dah''Grahs roars as he swings his massive arms in a wave motion. The wood of the Root underfoot responds by splitting into multiple layers that crisscross each other, creating a web of smaller root segments. The five other Accursed not already locked in battle with an enemy seem relatively unaffected by the sudden change in the battlefield, instead splitting up to focus on one person each. Yyl batters the feathered man with lighting-fast strikes from two short sticks as the man screeches and hides under his massive wingspan. You spot L''Neeri floating through the air as he tosses the bald man around effortlessly as he flails about, trying to find purchase on the root below. "Hi there!" A squirrely voice says from above. "I think I will have fun killing you!" You look up to find a small, squirrel-like girl crouching on a root segment above you. Her black hair is braided in cornrows and she wears a bright blue smock with yellow buttons and pockets. She smiles toothily as she jumps onto your root, slashing at the air where you were just moments ago with razor-sharp claws. She leaps at you with wild fervor. You kick at her, missing as she deftly dodges past your attack. She spins around and stabs her claws at you which you swat away. "What are you?" Your question catches her attention and she hesitates, looking confused momentarily before smiling mischievously. "A human? I''m a Shifter!" The tiny beast chuckles playfully, hopping at you again. You release a blast of light from your hands at the girl, who leaps through it, unfazed. You frown, that should have done something, at least... "I''ve got you!" The girl cries gleefully, slashing your arm with her claws. Pain shoots through your body, and you scream. You try to do anything, but all that you can create is a weak flash. "You''re not very good at this..." the girl pouts, swiping at you half-heartedly, "Such a waste of talent..." "Alright, you know what, you little Kiisk?" A surge of power erupts from your uninjured arm, causing the girl to cry out in surprise. A burning flash of crimson light explodes outward, flinging the little Shifter girl away from you. "That was nothing! You really are terrible!" she yells as she lands back on all fours, grinning at you. "Eep--!" The bolts of light you accidentally used to start this whole mess, suddenly appear once again, striking the little squirrel goblin right in the face, sending her tumbling end over end across the root. "Ugh," she grunts, shaking her head slowly as the last of the bolts'' light fades. She wipes a trickle of blood off of her nose, "Sooo..." The girl rubs her eyes, "Are you gonna fight me properly or am I just wasting my time with you?" 18. We are Cursed "Ugh," she grunts, shaking her head slowly as the last of the bolts'' light fades. She wipes a trickle of blood off of her nose, "Sooo..." The girl rubs her eyes, "Are you gonna fight me properly or am I just wasting my time with you?" "That''s it, get back here, Qaa." you curse, flinging bolts at your tormentor, "You are so annoying!" The Shifter only barely scurries around your attacks, the bolts just grazing her. She laughs wildly, spinning around to taunt you further, only to finally get struck by a particularly harsh, red arrow of light. It lodges itself in her stomach, stopping her dead in her tracks, and causing her to fall backward. She gasps for breath, staring down at her bleeding gut while she clutches it protectively. Crashes sound from further away. The Birdman is dead. The little Shifter girl''s eyes widen as she falls to her knees. "Vuu...? No... Not you..." she asks breathlessly, weakly crawling forward with one hand still clutching your red arrow of light. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. You see L''Neeri throwing the bald man off the edge of the root. He screams as he plummets into the abyss. Dah''Grahs gestures with his hands, motioning the wood which flows like liquid around the woman with clouds for arms, entombing her in a living prison. Nii''ma stares at the charred remains of another Accursed, her face is full of guilt, but she is unable to communicate it. Yyl stands in front of the man with the blindfold, his face a mix of regret, pain, frustration, and gloom. Sel''Ozsia walks between the others, giving them a reprieve from their bodily pains. She knows she cannot heal their sorrow. You look back at the dying Shifter girl, who weakly speaks with blood dripping from her mouth, "...Hail to the All Mother..." And the abyss consumes her. You motion with your hands and the bolt drags its target across the root and off the edge. Out into the abyss. *** "It''s happening." L''Oos breathes. "Our interloper has breached the seal." "I guess there is no delaying it, then..." Tyrr''olni''nel''mul grates, his bulbous black pools of the void undulating in the creases in his Aarkiel bones. "The All Mother will be summoned shortly." "May I ask again where the Bind Point is in relation to where one of my shards is?" The Aarkiel''s constant and malicious grin vanishes. "A few miles east, I am afraid." This will be a disaster... *** 19. How could you? You stand amidst a torrent of pain. How could you have done this? How could you have taken the life of another? Thoughts swirl around in your head: You shouldn''t have killed the girl, but you really didn''t have much choice if you wanted to survive. But was it self-defense if you were the one who started it? Your mind feels foggy as if your thoughts are being smothered and crushed. Your Patrons grinning face flashes amongst the gale. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "You are not out of The Storm yet, Nova." You hear L''Neeri call out your name, but it is distant and fuzzy. Indistinct. You try to answer but nothing comes out, your voice lost somewhere inside yourself. Your vision blurs. L''Neeri grabs your shoulder. "Nova!" he shouts again. Your legs give out from underneath you and your consciousness fades. *** You stand alone before a chained man. The man hangs suspended in the darkness by three multicolored chains, one attached to his left arm and his legs each. Two other chains lay broken on the black floor. He is sickly looking, his grey skin pulled taught over hard bones and muscle. He slowly raises his slumped, bald head to look at you. His piercing amber eyes make contact with yours. "Ah, thank you, Julia," he says, seemingly addressing you in an arid voice. "Nova, it is time to reconvene..." 20. A Chained Man You breathe out. "...what?" you ask quietly. "Wh-who is Julia?" You find it isn''t that hard to move, unlike in the white plane of your Patron''s domain. "Ah, I guess you are not Awakened yet, Nova. I won''t spoil the ending, not for you, yet." The decrepit, hanging man responds, he speaks like he is simply chatting with a small child about an amazing book the kid will one day read. Flowing ups and downs in his speech accentuate different words, but mostly "the ending". "Wh-who are you?" you ask, stepping forward unconsciously. "That is nothing of your concern, I really want it to be a surprise when I am finally free, Julia." the man chuckles, his voice sounding fatigued. "Who is ''Julia''?" You demand. "That isn''t even remotely close to my name..." You shake your head slightly, trying to clear your confusion. The man laughs an arid laugh. One that hasn''t been used in months, years even. It sounds wrong, almost like he has forgotten how to use it correctly. "You are already two-fifths of the way there!" He laughs cryptically. He shakes his, unbound, right arm and his head. "You are almost whole, Julia..." Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. You squint at him. "Are you mistaking me for someone else? Is this a dream or something?" He laughs again, grinning toothily at you. "Oh no, I would never! Not after we did so many great things together!" clenches his right hand into a fist for emphasis. "And I guess you could call this a dream. But not for me." This doesn''t sit well with you. He is most definitely crazy, some feverish creation of your mind in a futile attempt to wash away the guilt of taking a life. That is the only thing that makes sense. The man shifts, causing the chains that bind him to rattle and ping together. "You are really annoying, do you know that?" you suddenly say. "Ha! If you think I am annoying, you should see Them!" The man responds. "They were the ones who locked me in here!" You cock your head, thoroughly confused. "Them? Who are They?" "Them, They are the self-imposed supreme rulers of Brade''s Creation. The sovereign Scholars of The Grand Chapter. Tasked with the divine quest of discovering the true extent of Brade''s greatest achievement." You pause. "...Who?" "Shut up!" He snaps. "I''m explaining it to you!" "Who is Brade!?" "Rend the Flames! You Xulaains have such a minuscule worldview... Completely unaware of what happens outside of your tiny, backwater planet..." "...Wait, what!?" "I told you, shut up!" He barks, "This Shard is so annoying!" he continues to himself. "You are the one being all cryptic and mysterious! Be more blunt!" "Leave!" He roars, "Just leave!" 21. A Mysterious Place "Leave!" He roars, "Just leave!" Darkness suddenly falls over you as the hazy, chained prison fades from view. It feels as though you are falling asleep. You fight, resisting, trying to stay in this mysterious place. You were not about to have your questions circumvented by this mysterious man. Light erupts from your body, pushing the darkness back. Restoring you to ¡°wakefulness¡±. The man¡¯s eyes widen. ¡°How did you do that?¡± He asks. ¡°Who are you?¡± You respond, pointing at the hanging man. He seems to consider it for a moment. "You know what? You have talent, I guess. I will tell you anything you want to know if you do something for me.¡± He says, smiling slyly. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. You narrow your eyes at him. The last time you accepted a deal with someone you were Branded and given magic, which isn¡¯t too bad¡­ ¡°What would I be doing¡­?¡± You ask slowly, trying to be careful. Just in case. ¡°I need you to go and find 3 people: the rising heir of the Een¡¯mokk clan, a rather unknown and reclusive Aarkiel, and a very old friend of mine.¡± He states, raising a finger for each person. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you do with them, just go and kill them.¡± ¡°Huh!? Kill them!?¡± ¡°Yes, kill them. Do as you will with them, but be quick about it.¡± He lolls his head from side to side as if it was a trivial matter, inspecting his right hand''s nails. The memory of killing the young girl crashes over you, but your curiosity overwhelms you from the other side. "Why would I need to kill them, of all things?" you ask shakily. "They hold something that belongs to me, per se. I, no we, can only get it back by killing them because it is lodged in their souls." You try to wrap your head around that. He needs something in their souls...? "So, will you do it for me? Don''t forget I will answer your questions!" 22. A Direction "Fine." You state. "I''ll do it." "Excellent..." the man responds, seeming satisfied. "Now, you already know the heir and the Aarkiel, and my good friend will reveal herself in time. Go, good luck, Julia¡­¡± *** You awaken to rumbling. You are in some sort of house, surrounded by wooden walls and a roof made of leaves. Your body aches, but it is bearable. There is a door opposite where you woke, which is open. The rumbling permeates your body as you shakily rise from the cot. You stumble to the door where you fall against the frame. After regaining your bearings, you push yourself off the wall. You stumble out of the tiny shack and into the moons-lit darkness. The vast expanse of clouds lay in front of you, and the gargantuan trunk of a Titan Tree rises from behind you, up into the heavens. You feel a rush of vertigo as your gaze follows the massive tree upwards until it blooms outward, casting its canopy across the night sky like an explosion of leaves and wood. You stand on a pavilion of sorts, a platform with the shack near the back and a decrepit "handrail", if you could even call it that, on the edge. 5 figures bar your way to the night sky. "She''s awake!" you hear L''Neeri tell the others as you unsteadily make your way over to them. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. The rumbling intensifies. It rattles your bones as if trying to shake something out of you. "What is going on?!" you yell over the rattling of the platform underfoot. "We don''t know!" Sel''Ozsia responds, attempting to steady herself on the "handrail". "I have never heard of anything like this before! And why is it so loud?!" You glance at Dah''Grahs, who seems like a giant bastion against the quaking. "We can only hope this rumbling ends soon. I highly doubt the infrastructure can handle this much longer." The rumbling intensifies once again, threatening to tear you asunder. But suddenly, the vibrations halt, followed by a blinding cyan flash that illuminates the night sky. *** "He has breached the seal." The two beings speak in unison, knowing fully well the destruction they must create to stop this interloper. L''Oos looks upon her world with a pang of guilt before a cyan flash accompanies the halt in the vibrations. "We cannot let this intruder reach us," L''Oos says. The All-Mother is here. *** An ear-shattering roar follows the flash, and the night is blockaded by an absolutely massive object. A titanic creature erupts from the cloud layer below. Spiraling up out of nothingness and into the night sky. Its size dwarfs the Titan Trees around it as it swings its league-long arms in a circle. Its, no her, face is terrible. A stark grey amalgamation of flesh, teeth, eyes, and tusks that jut out from seemingly random places along her head. Even with her lower half under the cloud layer, she stands well above the Titan Tree and beyond. She roars again, and the ground begins to shake more violently than it ever had. Her voice echoes throughout Xulaa, drowning out everything else. Suddenly, the creature stops her cacophony and turns her attention to the cloud layer below. She begins frantically swiping her enormous hands at something down underneath her. A bright cyan streak of light appears in the clouds below in response to the new action. It appears to hop around, creating long, arching trails as it moves. Every second it gains a little ground on its titanic pursuer, somehow leading it away from you and the rest of the Ben''Marmenent. 23. The All Mother The titanic beast screams as it continues to pursue the strange streak of light. The sound reverberates in your chest, shaking your insides and causing you to tremble. You and your companions can only stand and watch in shock as the glowing line darts left and right, evading the pursuing monster with ease. Curiosity overwhelms you, you need to know what that light is, no matter the danger. You grab L''Neeri''s wrist and drag him over to the edge. "What are you doing?!" He yells over the bellowing. "We are going to find that light!" by now the light had made a significant distance from the titan creature. "Come on!" You pull him off the edge. You feel him weakly struggle, but you ignore it. The two of you plummet, down, back into the domain of Sa''Bel. The two of you fall, screaming, down into the depths. The clouds come up fast, plunging the two of you into soupy darkness for a few seconds, until you emerge into the Underworld. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. The air feels heavier and warmer here, thick with humidity and smelling faintly of mold and moss. L''Neeri touches your wrist and your fall slows. The two of you alight on one of the titanic roots, your feet sinking into the mossy surface. Out across the abyss below, you see the legs of the titanic creature standing on nothing. Her hands carve vast swaths of root and cloud out of the cloud layer above you, searching frantically for a now missing streak of light. You and L''Neeri in horror watch as she stumbles around, crashing through roots and clouds without heed. With each titanic step, she sends cacophonous quakes throughout the root system. The creature roars in frustration, smashing her hands down through the cloud layer and into the root system. Suddenly, the beast drops through the clouds above, leveling her head with the roots. She whips her head around, searching once again for the mysterious cyan light. Your heart pounds in your chest as you look at her. In the distance, the beast turns her back to you and L''Neeri, bellowing and swiping her hands through the root system. You suddenly feel someone touch the back of your neck. You and L''Neeri whip around at the same time to find a man there. In your hand burns blazing light. L''Neeri throws out his hand, and the man''s spiky black hair and incredibly unusual clothes fall backward, away from the two of you, but not him. He and L''Neeri do a double take. Then he speaks in a strange and alien accent, "...Why do the two of you have the same soul?" 24. Newcomer "W-who are you?" you ask, edging backward along the root. "Why do you want to know? I doubt my name would have any meaning to you." "Who are you?" you ask again, more firmly this time. The blazing light in your hand glows a little brighter. He raises his long, slender hands up in surrender. You notice he has a ring of something shiny on his left thumb. "I have many names, but you two can call me Sero." "Ok, Sero," his name feels weird in your mouth like it shouldn''t exist here, "what do you mean ''we have the same soul''?" "I would like to know too! You both have incredibly similar Allegorical Signatures... Why?" he begins pacing back and forth along the root. You and L''Neeri look at one another. "Who is this nutjob?" was the look you got from him. "...How do you know?" L''Neeri tries. "Oh, I touched your necks to link myself to this world, it''s a really cool Bioturgy trick I learned a few years ago. Makes world-hopping really easy because I can just instantly learn at least one of the native languages by convincing my soul that I grew up here, forcing it to know and understand the language." You just stare at him. What was this guy talking about? "Anyway, could you stop that?" he yells at L''Neeri, who puts his hand down. Sero''s incredibly strange clothes and hair fall normally. "I have no need to harm anyone here, and if I did, you would already be dead-- I shouldn''t have said that." he blurts, facepalming. "How were you defying my gravity?" L''Neeri asks, obviously tense. "I just expel a buncha energy away from myself to propel me against, that." he waves a hand at L''Neeri. "Anyway, do you two know where the--" He is suddenly cut off by yet another cacophonous bellow from the beast. She turns to face your little group and lets out a screech. Brilliant, violet light coalesces in front of her in the shape of a massive angry ball. "Who''s she?" Sero asks like someone he didn''t know just entered his house. "Anyway, do you two know where the Seal is?" This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The ball of violet, crackling lightning suddenly bursts, launching a massive bolt of purple light at your group. You and L''Neeri scream as it closes the vast distance nearly instantly. Sero casually raises his hand, and the blast strikes something hard, flowing around a sort of invisible barrier. "Well, that was rude," Sero responds after the onslaught ends. The beast in the distance somehow looks incredibly confused. L''Neeri chuckles nervously, looking at Sero. "What was all that talk about us having the same souls...?" he murmurs. "Hey." He turns his head to look at the two of you. "Should I kill her, or should I just let her be." "The latter..." you murmur, rather shaken. "Ok!" he responds cheerfully, "Come on! I''ll tell you more on the way!" he begins walking down the root away from you. You and L''Neeri follow him, not having much of a choice. *** "The All Mother has failed. Our outsider has escaped." Tyrr''olni''nel''mul states gravelly. "He stopped a full-force attack from her that would have leveled a small city!" "We must watch him closely, figure out why he is here," L''Oos responds, fatigue leaking into her voice. "He has made contact with Nova and L''Neeri, and he is leading them somewhere." "Keep a close eye on them." This really was a disaster... *** "Uh, Sero...?" You ask slowly. "Huh? What''s up?" "Where are we going?" You say, sliding down the mossy surface of a root. "I need to check up on something. That''s why I''m here." He says this with a little tension in his voice. Something you haven''t heard yet. "Sero, do you have a family name?" L''Neeri asks carefully. "I collect names! It''s a Forerunner thing. So I guess I do. My full name is Sero Jari Kpher Aalo "Blur" "The Blue Sunweaver" Wesyx Hiizend Olive Herald "The Arbiter" Mou Renikys Benhaman, Son of the one known as Eun." "Whoa, ok. How do you remember all of that?" The mysterious man responds with a distant look on his face. "It''s really hard to forget part of yourself." *** "You are Nova and L''Neeri, right? Souls, the name is a part of the soul. That''s why I know your names." "...That''s right..." you respond. "You two seem close, are you guys related?" He continues, not ever stopping his unnaturally quick stride. You practically had to jog to keep up with him walking. "No, no, we''re just good friends." You answer quickly, glancing at him. "Hm. Ok." A long pause ensues, the sound of the roots groaning and shifting under your group''s feet isn''t comforting. Sero suddenly bursts out into laughter. His laugh is short, loud, and explosive, even. "I''m going to need to tell that to Purity. Maybe Namanari and Kangleca too." he chuckles. "Who...?" "Oh, just some old friends. You might meet them someday! Just watch out for Purity, he can be rather hot-headed." You, L''Neeri, and Sero walk silently for a while, the sounds of the roots moving growing louder around you. After a while, you begin to notice something. The cloud layer above had grown thicker and darker. Nearly plunging your odd group into darkness. "Oh, I think this is it!" The lanky man stops at a seemingly random spot and says, "Welcome, my new friends, to The Prison of Oblivion!" 25. Later "Oh, I think this is it!" The lanky man stops at a seemingly random spot and says, "Welcome, my new friends, to The Prison of Oblivion!" You and L''Neeri look around, slightly fearful. "W-where?" "Down! I think..." Sero responds, looking down at the abyss below the roots. A misty expanse seemingly without end. "Well, I am going down there. This is what I need to check up on, so you don''t have to come with me." "We will sit this one out, Sero," L''Neeri responds quickly. "Eh, ok," he shrugs, "I will see you two later!" He leaps and plummets into the mist. Doctrine dictates that he has died, so you clasp your hands in prayer to L''Oos to keep his soul safe. You glance at L''Neeri, who seems as equally confused as you are. You both come to a silent consensus in the groaning roots that you two need to leave and get back to the rest of the Ben''Marmenent. *** You and L''Neeri fall through the open, dawning sky. Rushing sideways back to your companions at your home Titan Tree. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. After a weird, gut-turning but smooth landing, you and L''Neeri meet up with the rest of the Ben''Marmenent. "What happened?" Sel''Ozsia asks immediately, sifting through the two of you for injuries. "There was a strange, mysterious man down there! He called himself Sero and kept ranting about ''the soul'', and other weird things like that." You respond as your healer friend lifts your arm to check it. "I can draw him." Nii''ma jots down in her book, showing it to the assembled group. "Thank you, Nii''ma," L''Neeri adds, now under inspection by the small woman. Nii''ma responds with a thumbs up. She then continues writing. Dah''Grahs pipes up, "The Aarkel disappeared a few minutes after you two fell. Do you know why this is?" "The man down there blocked the Aarkiel''s attack! He just:" You throw out your hand in a halting motion. "Bam!" "That sounds crazy," Sel''Ozsia chimes in. "How?" "I would like to know too." L''Neeri sighs. "He might have been a Type 7, 1, or 4, but I didn''t see anything distinctive that could have been a Brand or a Token..." he trails off in thought. "Oh!" You chime, "He had a glowing whiteish-blue ring on his chest! Plus his clothes were really weird, they had colors that I didn''t think were possible in clothes. And he wasn''t wearing any shoes, just white bandages." "It doesn''t match any of the Token schemes of any Aarkiel that I know," Yyl responds, jittering around as usual. "Where did you see him first?" "We didn''t. First thing I know he touches the back of our necks and starts talking to us. I didn''t even see him on the way down, he was just, behind us suddenly." Silence spreads through your friends as they think. "Well, whoever he is, he jumped into the abyss talking about something called the "Prison of Oblivion". I doubt we will ever see him again." L''Neeri breaks the silence. "Anyways, I need to talk to my Patron, I will be back." The Ben''Marmenent disperses slowly leaving you to decide what to do next. 26. Commune *** You sit alone in your room. What L''Neeri said he was going to do sounded pretty cool. You clasp your hands together in front of your chest, unsure of how to contact Tyrr''olni''nel''mul. You don''t know what to expect when you contact him. You close your eyes, meditating in a way on your stiff bed. You sink slowly into a calm, sleepy state. Your mind is quiet, your breathing slow, and you feel weightless. After an unknown amount of time, you hear a voice. "Nova." You open your eyes. An endless, flat white plain stretches to the end of your vision. You sit on a hard floor of indistinguishable temperature, a floor so white it is nigh impossible to tell where it ends and the sky begins. A few feet away, stands a pale throne. And on it, sits your patron. Tyrr''onli''nel''mul lounges in a tried manner. His long, slender, and somewhat malformed legs lay over the left armrest, with his faceless head over the right. His unnaturally long arms loll over his chest and onto the floor. He turns his eyeless gaze to you, his mount no longer grinning as you remember. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Nova, my Branded One, there are many secrets to this world that you, nor I, understand." His mouth doesn''t move as he speaks. "I have done extensive analysis of your soul and my friend''s, and the answer to my burning question is now surrounded by more elusive, burning questions. Why do the two of you, have the same soul?!" he roars, throwing his arms into the air in frustration. You cringe back at his outburst, and you feel your Brand along your left arm and neck itch and burn with him. "What does this mean?" He asks, calming himself slightly. "I... I met this strange man down in the underworld... He said that me and my friend L''Neeri--" you say slowly, trying to bother or provoke him. "Have the same soul." He finishes. "Yes, I was watching." He suddenly appears a few feet away from his throne, pacing. "His name, clothing, and manner are unlike any from this world. Yes, he is the one who broke the seal." "But why would he break it?" You ask curiously. "It eludes me. My friend and I originally expected him to release the evil imprisoned here, but when he failed to do that..." He suddenly whips his faceless head to look at you, "Nova, I need you to keep a close eye on this Sero man. We must discover his intentions on this world." You nod quickly, slightly afraid of what might happen if you refuse. "Now, shoo," he waves his right hand in a dismissive manner, suddenly appearing back on his throne, "I have to dig deeper." *** You awaken to the setting sun. 27. Shine You awaken to the setting sun. The warm light of it washes over your face, causing you to blink and shield your eyes from its glare. Your communion with your patron leaves you a little worried about the future. You get up from your bed, crossing the wide room to your basin, where you scoop up some water with the wooden cup there. The water is not cold and has a woody taste, obviously, but you drink it anyways. You splash yourself off, washing most of the sleepiness away until you start feeling more alert. You absentmindedly wave your right hand, contemplating your next move. You glance at your hand, squinting at it. It gives off a faint golden glow as you continue inspection your hand. Curious, you flick your fingers, conjuring light in front of you with your Token. A golden orb that pulses like a heartbeat appears in front of your hand. It shines like a miniature sun, sparkling with silent fervor that intensifies as you look at it. It appears to have a surface of sorts, a ball with rippling pentagonal ridges that move, grow, and collide with one another. The sphere of light glows softly and dimly, its inner structure seems to shift and flow, becoming less regular before shifting back once more. You wave your hand, and the light follows. You focus on the sphere not moving, and your hand moves right through it without collision or traction. Sitting down on your bed again, you have the ball of light between your hands. It floats there, giving off incredibly faint but noticeable heat. You experimentally pinch at the sphere''s surface. You sit there messing with that tiny ball of golden light as the sun sets over the horizon. Now, your only light is that same ball that you have experimenting with. You look up from the sphere. No light from the moons seeps into your room. You quickly create more orbs to illuminate your space. Their soft, yellow shine is comforting, almost like a tiny part of the sun is here with you, watching over you. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. *** L''Oos, Goddess of the Sun, Freedom, Expression, Self, and a multitude of other things watches the sun set on another day. Dread looms over her like some impossible deadline that that mysterious voice continued to force on her when she created this world. Two sets of avian wings alight on the branch behind her. "Mistress," two voices speak in unison. One rich, masculine, and flamboyant, and the other slithery, feminine, and serious, "We come with tidings of unknown circumstance." "Speak, Gaav''nil''tus''ahd and Ure''nairn''itah''likk." L''Oos responds without turning to look at them, instead keeping her eyes locked on the moons in their orbits around Xulaa. "I have failed, L''Oos. Your request to halt the intrusion of this interloper has gone unfulfilled." Ure''nairn''itah''likk speaks first. "I am aware, All Mother. However, I am not angry. Sero is a force of nature that could not have been prevented." L''Oos responds, now turning her head to look at a faint golden light from a Titan Tree. "We must steel ourselves for what comes next. This could mean the destruction of Xulaa." "Y-yes, Mistress." "And you, Gaav''nil''tus''ahd?" "This, Sero," He seems unsure, "He has been spotted again. This time making his way, rather speedily, across the world to within 3 leagues of this exact Tree. He seems to be looking for something, again." Only now does L''Oos turn her head to look at the Aso''une''aawn. "We must discover his intentions before he destroys us all." *** L''Oos''s sisters march their way across the sky as you continue your experiments. Through trial and error, you have figured out how to make your created light feel solid by imagining that you can''t pass your hand through one of the orbs. With this new and exciting knowledge, you have managed to create various "light constructs": a cup, a spear, a string of beads, and a small ladder, all of which feel rather sturdy and surprisingly tangible, you even managed to support your weight on the ladder! You create a new sphere, you have gotten quite good at that now, and you mold it into a random shape with your hands. You go through the tedious process of making it solid, which has been getting easier and easier as you repeat it. When finished, you hold the construct in your hands, admiring its somewhat random, glowing form before sliding it through the air to float near the window. Your room is now filled with random constructs floating at random elevations, all glowing with soft golden glows. It feels... strange yet comforting to see the lights hovering around in your dark bedroom. You wave your hands, mentally grabbing hold of all of the light constructs and swirling them around as a test. The ladder construct slams into your desk, throwing its contents to the floor in a loud crash. You wince. That sounded awful. You pick up everything from the ground and put it back in order, then dust yourself off while glaring angrily at each light construct. They all hover calmly nearby, waiting patiently to be commanded again. You move them all off to the side, dismissing them and plunging your room into darkness once again. 28. Constructs of Light itself You sit in that darkness for a moment, thinking, imagining. Then, after gathering your thoughts, you bring forth your creations once again, waving your right hand to conjure them into existence once again. They float there, just illuminating the quarter circle room with their glows. Their radiance is comforting, rejuvenating, even. You close your eyes. Concentrating. You picture what you want those constructs to do. They respond silently, moving in your mind. They float, congealing together to create a large sphere of luminescent light. Your mold and shape it until, nothing. The sphere dissipates into a fine, radiant, golden mist that floats down through the air to evaporate on the wooden floor. You sigh heavily, unsure of what to do next. Perhaps you''ll try creating another sphere? No, boring, and you have pretty much mastered what you could think of that relates to that skill. Maybe a- Your right hand is glowing brightly. You squint your eye quizzically at your luminescent appendage, turning it over to get a better look. Your arm radiates the same golden light of your constructs, almost as if it was made of it. "...Wait," You say to yourself, furrowing your brow in thought. "What if I could become light?" You wave your arm around a bit, trying random things in an attempt to realize your curiosity. You grab and shake your arm, you try flexing it, relaxing it. Nothing seems to work at all until suddenly, you just, imagine. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. It works. With an audible *wwhuummm*, your arm becomes fully golden in hue. You raise it high as your arm flashes brightly, appearing to distort and eject little streams of light like tiny buzzing flies in random directions. Your arm buzzes with palpable energy. Almost like it is trying to escape from you entirely. Your eyes widen as the golden shimmer and distortion spread to the rest of your body, coating it in a buzzing, lightly numb feeling of freedom. Your body buzzes with an energy never before felt, you feel as though you could run forever. Your body burns brighter than ever before, and somehow, you find yourself careening through the moonlit night. Flying over the skyscape with an unimaginable amount of speed. You fly, with the speed of a falling star, burning with the intensity of a distant sun in the night, into it gleefully. *** As the star falls, five heads turn to watch. They all speak in unison, "What has she done?" L''Neeri leaps from his bedroom window in fear, activating his Token and falling into the night air after it. He feels a sense of urgency from his patron, he knows the end is upon them. L''Oos watches in wonder as the light streaks past her and her companions without a care in the world. It zips around, coming close to mimicking her own burning radiance. It makes her smile, for she knows the end is near. Tyrr''olni''nel''mul watches in satisfaction, his astral sense showing a breakthrough in magical experimentation. His Branded One has breached the limiter! He now knows the end is close. Sa''Bel himself hangs chained below the world, watching in glee as he comes to realize the implications of Nova''s actions. He will finally be free once again! He knows the end is nigh. Sero watches in curiosity, somewhat oblivious to what has transpired. He watches as the streak of golden light careens over the clouds, and he wonders if he could outrun it if he ever needed to. He hopes his call for some backup will be heard by someone in Kah Loon soon, or else the end has come. 29. More Secrets You awaken to the rising sun. The first rays peek into your room, waking you from sleep. You sit up quickly, looking around at your wooden room, carved into the branch of your home Titan Tree. "Was it all a dream?" you ask yourself quietly, examining your right arm. You activate your Token, attempting to become the golden light that you achieved last night. After some concentrating, it works, and your arm glows and begins shooting out the sparks of golden luminescence which look dwarfed by the sun''s rays shining through your window. You turn it off excitedly and get up from your bed, practically buzzing with energy like last night. You don''t remember flying back home nor getting in bed at all. This puzzles you as you begin to stroll through the awakening streets, tunnels, and pavilions of your home. All coming alive again to greet the morning sun. People appearing from their homes carved out of wood. You let your mind wander as your body does the same. You munch on some fruit as you walk, barely caring where your legs carry you. "I should name my newfound power," you think as you continue your stroll through the branches of your home, the moist morning air tickling your nose with earthy and floral scents. You walk past several people taking morning walks like you. You greet them kindly, and they return the favor. You smile as you walk, taking in the light. *** Later, as you wander, you begin to hear a commotion up the path. Excited murmuring and chattering can be heard over the whistling wind in the leaves all around you. You walk over and you find a crowd has formed around a small group of people who are chatting in a formal manner. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Der¡¯ii the Branded One, we are honored to host you in our home.¡± A middle-aged man, who is clearly putting on years, announces loudly to the crowd and the grey-haired boy across from him. The man looks familiar, and he wears extravagant, flowing robes that feel even more flamboyant than the Ben¡¯Marmenent¡¯s. Such robes could only mean one thing, this man is Elder Rag¡¯nash, the Aam''ein''xulaa, and his similarly decorated son next to him is undoubtedly your friend Poi''Niuu. Your friend looks tortured and barely hanging on. He is constantly fussing with his white robe and his expression is distant and tired. Staring past the newcomer blankly. His characteristically spiky black hair is styled into a much more conservative style that looks ready to fall apart at any moment. The stranger stands across from the Elder and his son as the Elder showers him with praise and honor, appearing quite unsure why an Aam''ein''xulaa is treating him like this. The stranger looks older than you and is around the same height as Melonaa, who is rather tall for her age. Der''ii, you recall, wears traditional baggy, brown clothing that is suited for the manual labor that is necessary to keep us alive for the good of L''Oos. "Thank you, Elder Rag''Nash... for your hospitality..." Der''ii says, glancing around at the gathered crowd somewhat nervously. "I must know, do you have a Branded One on your home Tree?" "Oh, yes! Our pride and joy, L''Neeri Een''Mokk!" The decorated Aam''ein''xulaa responds with fervor. His voice is watery and flowing, denoting his canopy descent. It feels oddly calming somehow, despite his excited demeanor. You and Poi make eye contact. He seems to come alive again, rising from a stupor he didn''t even know he was in. You smile at him and he gives you a thumbs down, shaking his head. Der''ii looks at the thinning crowd, suddenly resting his eyes on you. You make eye contact and you flinch at how hard and piercing his gaze is. The Elder continues talking, "Ah, but unfortunately we cannot have him present. I do wish-" "Who is she?" Der''ii asks roughly, cutting him off and pointing at you. You jump at his question and begin quickly speed-walking away, eyes wide and blood pumping. Elder Rag''Nash looks thrown off balance, confused why anyone would cut him off, but he looks where his guest is pointing. "Hum, I''m not sure. I-" You don''t catch the rest as you turn the corner down the path. You need to stay away from that boy. You activate your Token, transforming into golden light. You zip through the branches of your home, just running. 30. Derii You activate your Token, transforming into golden light. You zip through the branches of your home, just running. But then, you stop. You hover there, an incandescent orb of luminous light suspended among the trees. As you float in the breeze, your curiosity overwhelms you again. Who is this man? Why is he here? You need to know. You bob and zip around like some lost sprite of the novels, before turning around and flying back to observe this mysterious newcomer. You weave through the branches, to come to a stop above the place where you had seen Der''ii last. You suddenly pop back into existence in a flash of golden light, crouching atop a small branch overlooking the clearing. Der''ii, the Elder, and your friend Poi''niuu are beginning to walk back up the path away from you. You decide to follow them. Dashing through the leaves of your home like a squirrel or some other rodent, ever following your current obsession. The wind breathes its mighty breaths as you move. The three walk slowly. Painfully slowly, in fact. They seem to inch along like snails below you, and you almost laugh at the thought of it. Almost. But instead, you watch intently as they pass beneath your perch, heading towards another tree further on in the canopy. The Elder seems distracted while his son fidgets about uncomfortably. When the Elder speaks, Der''ii seems anxious. You manage to catch a few snippets of conversation that trickle like streams of water through the leaves. Tantalizing, but just out of reach. "...I must speak to..." You strain to make out what the mysterious boy says as he walks a few feet away from the Aam''ein''xulaa and his son. "...important that I...need...terrible news..." If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "Oh? What... I may... relay..." Elder Rag''Nash responds, surprised. "L''Neeri..." You turn into light again and flicker down closer. "My, sources, claim a ''Storm is Approaching.''" Der''ii says, tension oozing into his voice like tainted honey. "What... you say?" The Elder stutters in reply. "A Storm, your wisdom, a Calamity of epic proportions," Der''ii repeats with urgency. "I wish to, discuss, this with this L''Neeri. Of the Een''Mokk clan, you say?" "Yes, yes." The Elder responds, sounding a little shaken. "I will send for him as soon as possible..." "One last thing, your wisdom, before I take my leave." "Yes, Der''ii?" "You only have one Branded One here on this tree?" "To the best of our knowledge, you are correct. Our pride and joy, L''Neeri. Why do you ask?" "I guess, I am a little paranoid," He responds, looking around, "I just feel you might have to recheck those numbers..." *** Tyrr''olni''nel''mul sits alone in the endless white plane that is his domain. His mind is blank as always, and his thoughts wander aimlessly across the empty expanse of his being. He feels depleted, tired is not a word that he quite understands, but he feels, less. Less than what he should be. However, alongside that lessness, he feels a burning, aching curiosity. It claws at his soul like a trapped animal, striving to escape him. He keeps it in. He needs to know. "Why are we all the same?!" he roars. He thrashes his arms in frustration, carving up enormous chunks of his domain. The white-on-white stones flow like liquid as he brings his arms together, coalescing into a humanoid form. This pale mockery of a human shifts and wavers between five different forms. A woman, on her older side, with burning and flickering hair like fire. A boy, a young man at that, with a twinking in his eye and a springy expression on his kind face. Another woman, this time much younger. She has an innocence about her, and her cheery expression practically glows with warmth. A child, she is growing into the first stage of maturity. She has no face. And finally, himself. The Aarkiel stands at eye level with himself. But this copy of him feels distant. "...Who, are we...?" Not a Chapter, we are voting on the name of your new power Yo, thank you to everyone who has given input on possible names for your new ability. So, today we are going to be voting on it! I need everyone''s input, even if you have not read up until this point, I do not care and you should not care yourself. Just go and pick a random one, one that sounds cool, or one that you like because you made it yourself! We need everyone''s input here. And a side note: you need a free account in order to vote and/or comment. Royal Road is amazing because there is absolutely zero, and I mean zero harm in getting an account. In fact, it is much, much nicer to have an account than it is to be a guest, and you don''t need to write anything to have one. Nothing essential is locked behind premium and you get to be a part of communities on here. So please, just go grab an account to help with this fiction, it is so so helpful to us. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. I will be taking more suggestions on here, just be quick because you want all the votes you can get! I will be posting the next chapter tomorrow since the school year just ended today for me. Good luck Celestial Traveller! 31. Of Aarkiel and Ink "Who are we...?" The Aarkiel stands, his faceless face in his slender, bony hands. He then sinks down to the floor, wondering. He sits there for a while, lost in thought. Suddenly, he looks up. Staring down the infinite plane. "L''Oos will know." He leaps upwards, ascending several feet into the air before falling back down onto bony legs. He begins to create a temporary Bind Point for himself, but then, he stops. He notices something. "Nova?" The Aarkiel pauses as you attempt to commune with him again. *** You awaken to that white space, with its alien temperature an all-pervasive source of unknown light, standing face to face with your patron. Tyrr''olni''nel''mul is not grinning. Instead, his wide, toothy mouth is neutral and his brow is furrowed. He looks serious, worried even. You start, pulling back from his face which was nearly inches from yours. "Come with me." He says, sternly, almost. "Uh, ok?" you respond, not really sure how to reject. He moves away. His way of walking looks unnatural. He walks like he is gliding, jumping, and jittering along in a way to mimic human movement. His angular horns make his free-flowing feel seem even more unnatural, how they seem to barely weigh his hairless, pale head down at all. "...Where are we going?" you ask tentatively, "Just wondering, I--" "We are going to see an old friend..." Your patron reaches his right hand across his body. He stands there, neck slumped, arm across his chest. He appears to grab one of the inky black blobs on his body, below his left arm. And with a deliberate pulling motion, he pulls a similarly pitch-black arm out of it. The arm emerges hand first like an uncoiling snake. It seems to grow out of the inky pustule, pulled out by your patron''s deliberate and resolute hand like a root that needed to be dislodged. The new arm breaks the Aarkiel''s previous symmetry, sticking out of his left side in an alien way that causes you to shudder. Tyrr''olni''nel''mul looks down at it and flexes it, clenching and unclenching his new, ebony hand. Your patron reaches up with his new hand, touching the air in front of him. There, at the point where the jet hand meets the open, milky air, a point of vibrance appears. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. A tiny, incandescent point of sky-blue light invades this pure place. A speck of radiance. The black hand suddenly appears to lose its shape, melting. It falls off of the side of the Aarkiel, splashing onto the ground in a large, inky puddle ta Tyrr''olni''nel''mul''s feet with a loud boosh. "This is a Bind Point. We will use this to leave this place and enter back into the physical world," the Aarkiel says in his grating, yet somehow fluid voice, "come here, Nova." You walk forward and stand next to the Aarkiel, looking up at the strange, glowing dot of light. "Touch it." You do. You reach your hand up to touch the fleck of color, hesitating before it. You quickly glance at your patron standing next to you. He nods his horned, eyeless head slightly, his expression never changing. You press your finger into the light. *** You stand atop a Titan Tree gazing out across the untamed sky of Xulaa. Common birds flock in the distance, creating flying V''s and clouds of multicolored wings. You spot a pair of gargantuan Aso''une''aawn wheeling in the open air, chasing each other in playful abandon. You gaze upon distant Trees, each standing in their calm, distant solitude. "Nova," you hear the voice of your patron behind you, "This way." You turn around towards the trunk of the Titan Tree. You see a giant, stark grey and white bird walking away from you. An Aso''une''aawn. "I don''t have a physical form, most of the time, so, I take on this avian body when I am visiting the physical world." Tyrr''olni''nel''mul continues, his voice coming from the beak of the enormous bird. You follow after it, walking with him. His long, stick-like legs carry him quickly across the titanic branch, you have to jog to keep up with him. Soon you come to what looks like a tunnel, one that burrows its way through the enormous branch and trunk of the Titan tree. It is carved into the wood of the branch a few hundred feet in diameter, and from its roof hangs moss-like greenery and lichen. It smells musty and vaguely moldy in here, and it is dark. As soon as you step inside, the darkness deepens even more. "Come along, I need to discuss something with my friend." You follow your patron through the snaking passage until you appear back into the late afternoon light. You emerge onto a different branch, this one much smaller, the sun low in the sky. Farther up the branch stands a burning figure, one that strikes you with reverence. You fall to your knees and bow your head before your goddess. "L''Oos, I have pondered by myself long enough! I demand answers!" Tyrr''olni''nel''mul shouts, his massive grey wings beating the air as he walks closer. L''Oos looks slightly surprised, startled even. Her expression is surprisingly easy to make out among the flames."Tyrr''olni''nel''mul? Nova? Why are you here?" "I come seeking the answers that I could not find myself, mistress." L''Oos walks closer, her benevolent demeanor wavering slightly. "What is it that you have been searching for?" "I wish to understand a question that I have been pondering for many years." "Go on..." "Why do so many of us have the same soul?!" He roars. You look up. The flaming goddess pauses for a few moments, her mouth turned ever-so-slightly down in a serious frown. "There is something that only I know, and I am not sure how to tell you this, however--" Suddenly, both your patron''s and L''Oos''s heads snap to the horizon. They both speak in unison. "Sero." 32. Chasing The Blue Sunweaver "Sero." Out in the distance, a streak of light the color of the open, noon sky blazes across the horizon. Its cyan glow penetrates the cloud layer from below as it appears to hop around with astounding speed. You watch in awe as the bright smudge, barely the size of a housefly in the distance, crosses behind a distant Titan Tree instantly. It flashes around like a lost sprite, crossing distances within seconds that you had crossed in hours. "Nova, honor our agreement," Tyrr''olni''nel''mul says, breaking your stupor, "We must catch him." You nod. You take a leap of faith, throwing yourself off the edge of the branch and out into the expanse. The wind rushes through your hair as you fall through the air, and the looming wood of the branch rises behind you. You reach inside yourself for the burning power within, activating your Token and transforming into light. With a flash of effervescent, golden luminescence, your body blurs, speeding up to ridiculous speeds. The clouds rush below you, almost too fast to see as you pass above them in your golden form. In the distance, you spot the cyan glow jumping around beneath the cloud layer, the ridiculous speed of his movement no longer relatively as fast to you. You suddenly dip downwards, hurtling towards the creamy layer of clouds so far below. You slam into the clouds, breaking through them like a loose net of branches in the way of your swiftness. The cloud layer breaks and you emerge into the underworld. The gargantuan roots of the Titan Trees arcing and twisting together in their majestic dance of wood, mold, and life. In the distance, glowing like an azure sun, is a figure, miniature at this distance, racing along the roots, somehow. You fly just below the cloud layer, casting your golden radiance upon its surface. You soar with as much speed as you can muster, straining to catch up to the glowing figure so far away. You begin gaining on him. Every second, you draw closer to him. Eventually, you get close enough to make out some details of the person you are chasing. Sero is wearing his previous clothing, with their alien colors and strange, maybe even impractical composition. A blood-red vest over skin-tight, white bandages that cover his arms to his wrists. He wears baggy, beige trousers that are clamped to his ankles by bands made of the same shiny material that you remember on his left thumb. His spiky black hair that you remember is now replaced by similarly spiky cyan-blue hair, the same color as his strange, burning bubble. Sero is running. Somehow, he is running at mind-numbing speeds, sky-blue light emanating from his body like the sun, the light creating a large teardrop shape with him in the middle. The front of which burns with illuminating fire. As he runs, cyan-blue afterimages appear behind him. Telegraphing his astounding movements before fading into the overcast underworld light. Sero''s body seems to jitter, his movements mimicking the movements of normal running, except at blazing speed. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Sero suddenly turns his head around to look over his shoulder, his expression changes from a determined grin to a surprised, possibly scared look. He turns his head back and seems to redouble his efforts, the light coming from his body, and his hair, suddenly shifting color to a pale, luminescent white. He speeds up and begins to gain ground on you, rather quickly. He was outrunning you. You would not stand for that. You similarly redouble your efforts, pushing yourself faster and faster. Your golden form glows even more brightly as you do so. Sero appears to notice, for he jumps, higher than what you would think is possible. He twists in the air, clapping his hands together in front of him as if he was diving into a pool of water. Over the rushing wind, you hear him yell, "Max Pulse!" A beam of pure white light suddenly shoots out of his outstretched hands. It flashes past you as you instinctively dodge out of the way just in time. The beam explodes in the air behind you, rocking the root system below you. Sero lands on the root below, his bare feet sliding a much shorter distance than what you expected on the wood with no visible damage. You hit the root and deactivate your Token. Sero stands up a little ways away, "Nova? Oh, it is you! Sick!" You stand up from your crouch as well, a little dizzy for some reason. "I''m not sick. I know a healer, and I bet she would be happy to heal whoever is sick." You respond when the bout of dizziness disappears. Sero narrows his strange, alien eyes incredulously, his characteristic grin still on his face. "No, no, it''s a figure of speech, slang or something, I don''t know. Anyways, I didn''t know you could do that! That is really cool!" He walks forward, "Sorry for attacking you back there, I didn''t know it was you!" You walk towards him as well, "You said something back there, what was it?" "Oh, Max Pulse?" "Yeah, that. What and why?" "It''s one of my Pulses!" he explains matter-of-factly, like you were supposed to know what that meant. You just look at him quizzically. "Oh, right, right, right. I forgot that you have never been off-world before." "What--?" He cuts you off and continues on as if it was a perfectly normal thing to say. "This," he waves his hand, the mysterious, glowing white ring on his vested chest suddenly moves to his shoulder and then onto his arm, floating with his arm inside the strange circle, "Is what is called The Rhodos. It''s an artifact that I picked up a very long time ago." Sero''s eyes suddenly become distant, as if he was recalling a long-forgotten memory, only for him to shake himself awake once again. The Rhodos, as he called it, is a glowing ring of solid white light about the size of a dinner plate. Along its edge are five, evenly spaced, similarly glowing triangles that float away from the ring itself. Inside the outer ring is a smaller ring that floats an inch or so from it, the smaller ring is connected to the outer one by an interwoven, almost braided lace of hair-like strings that make up a nearly invisible, twisting network. The inner ring has its own five triangles, only this time they are pointing inward instead of outward. The rings themselves float a few inches from Sero''s raised finger, they seem to spin opposite of one another lethargically. "The Rhodos is a gateway to a reservoir of Allegory that I can call upon at will to do pretty much whatever I want!" The rings then retreat back onto the man''s chest, still spinning sleepily. This new and weird information hurt your head already, but Sero wasn''t finished. "My Pulses, Buster Pulse and Max Pulse, are a result of me opening a small hole into the reservoir and pushing the magic through as an energy pulse!" Sero explains excitedly. He seems so energized by the act of explaining his abilities to you, but you just don''t get it. "That''s cool, I guess..." "Anyway, now that I have found you, I want to show you something!" Not a Chapter, but instead, an Announcement Ok, I did just release a chap yesterday, but I forgot to say something there so I decided to make an update chap. As of tomorrow, I will be on a quick 1 week hiatus where I anticipate I will be unable to post chapters. The last chapter (32. Chasing The Blue Sunweaver) is the last chap for at least one week, I think. You guys might get lucky and get a chapter over the break I don''t know. Next thing, The Xulaain Chronicler has almost reached 8000 total views! Crazy. I didn''t think that we would ever get this far. Stolen novel; please report. I feel as though we are nearing the end of our journey on Xulaa and after some consideration of the facts, I am planning on re-writing it after we finish. Hear me out here, after we finish, there will be no real reason to read the work, since you can contribute to the story (which is the whole point) anymore. I would re-write it as a past tense, 3rd person novel for those who were not here to help direct the story. Go and vote if you think that it''s a good idea or not. Anyways, thanks for reading, and good luck Celestial Travellers! 33. Answers, finally. ff-world", which I don''t understand. You have some explaining to do, sir." ? The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. leep for most of it but ended up on the strike force to put him to sleep. We only tapped him on this random backwater planet because it was the only place where he wouldn''t cause trouble. Youono begin rngee. *** You met up on that distant root, Sero''s landing creating a massive splintery crater in which he stood nonchalantly. He twiddles with something that is on his thumb, a shiny ring of some material that you don''t know the name of. You alight on the root in front of him looking around at the destruction that he seems oblivious to. "Just a little more! We''re almost to the thing that I want to show you! I hope you like it." He begins to walk away. You follow, suddenly even more curious. It only takes a few more minutes of walking before Sero holds out his hand for you to stop. "Shh-hh-hh, hold on," He whispers, motioning for your to crouch down on the root''s mossy carpet. Suddenly, you hear a cry, a beautiful, sonorous, avian cry. And there, up above, from the towering crest of the winding root, a gargantuan bird swoops downward. An Aso''une''aawn. "Literally perfect!" Sero whispers excitedly as the sacred bird lifts up above the cloud layer, disappearing into the white, "Alright, you need to be super quiet, or else the mom or dad comes back and we have to leave." "What are we doing--?" you begin to ask, but Sero pulls you along. He begins climbing the root, motioning for you to do the same. Climbing the root is not difficult, the moss giving handholds and the crest''s slope being not too extreme, you reach the top of the root. There, on top of the root, sits a massive nest of branches. Not twigs, branches. Sero puts his finger to his lips, quieting you. He''s grinning ear to ear. There, inside the titanic nest, are baby Aso''une''aawn. Not a chapter: just pick a number Not a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a numberNot a chapter: just pick a number This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. 34. Asouneaawn There, inside the titanic nest, are baby Aso''une''aawn. Two of them. The birds lay curled up, their bodies barely filling their massive nest as their gigantic, tendril-like tails wrap around their fuzzy bodies. Their crests lay flat, their wings folded tightly around them like great feathered blankets against the chill breeze of the underworld. They shift, squeaking and chirping softly like an infant would. A quiet, primal, unstoppable "awww" escapes your mouth as your eyes widen in astonishment. Sero looks over, grinning at you like a madman. "See?" He whispers, still grinning, "Wasn''t this worth the journey?" You nod fervently, only sparing him a glance. The two Aso''une''aawn sport bright, downy, cerulean feathers, some of which are as long as your forearm and others no longer than the tip of your thumb. The soft, blue down is spotted with speckles of white, like stars in the night sky. The Aso''une''aawn shift again squeaking sleepily. Their tendrils, long and sinuous, wrap around their downy bodies, keeping them warm in the crisp breeze that you hardly notice. At the end of the massive tail tendrils, each longer than you are tall, is a large, vermillion plume. Sero puts his fingers to his lips again, looking at you for a moment, before suddenly reaching his hand towards the leftmost bird. You swat at him, but you don''t make contact. "What are you doing?" you hiss. "Sh, sh," he shushes you, "Just watch." He reaches his right hand into the nest, resting his fingers on the down of the leftmost bird. Suddenly, his hand bursts alight with faintly green light. The white-green light seems to ooze and flow like a liquid on the feathers of the Aso''une''aawn. The avian creature shifts comfortably, seemingly unaware of what is happening. Sero then reaches up and grasps your forearm close to your wrist, it isn''t a firm or loose grip, but something in between. It too comes alight, and you suddenly feel a connection to this Aso''une''aawn chick, something that transcends a best friend or significant other. You Know this bird. Everything, from its playing with its brother to the loneliness of its mother leaving every day to this very moment. Everything. You gasp in astonishment, what is this feeling? Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. "Name him," Sero says, not caring to explain. He is looking right at you. You pause, taking in this Aso''une''aawn''s life. "...Haan''il." "The Path Forward," Sero says, translating the name''s meaning, "A fitting name." Sero adopts a look of total concentration. "I Name you Haan''il, little one. Take this name unto yourself, but do not allow it to rewrite who you are." He releases his grip on your arm, and the feeling of Knowing this creature subsides slowly, like a limb coming back awake. Sero moves to the other Aso''une''aawn. "I Name you Aur, little one. Take this name unto yourself, but do not allow it to rewrite who you are." He keeps his hand on Aur''s feathers for a few more moments. He then gets up, a sad but hopeful smile on his face. "Let''s go home." *** L''Oos, Goddess of the Sun, Freedom, Expression, Self, and a multitude of other things sits among the branches of a Titan Tree, staring out into the open sky. She sits alone, watching the common birds flock and the Aso''une''aawn wheel in the playful abandon of the open air, her flames are a beacon that draws all to her. L''Oos'' face is serene as always, her fiery, orange hair dancing in the breeze, but deep inside, memories churn like an angry, yet tightly chained monster. Sa''bel is stirring, and that terrifies her. The creeping anxiety of being unable to do anything about his reawakening is the destructive side of the coin. The other side is overwhelming relief. She would finally be free of this miserable planet that she created. She wants to smile at that, but she cannot. The other side of the coin is still there, preventing her from feeling the better side. So, she will wait longer. Over the millennia, she had gotten so much better at waiting. She could handle a few more days. She knows the end is near. 35. Dreams of the Deep She knows the end is near. *** You hang chained at the bottom of the world. Infinite darkness stretches on all sides, yet you yourself are exempt from it. Massive bands of shiny, silver material are clamped firmly on your ankles and left hand, the latter of which you hang helplessly from. You struggle and shift helplessly, completely unable to do anything except find a slightly more comfortable position to hang in. Your chains extend into the impervious darkness, disappearing like shadows into the darker night. You hang there for an undetermined amount of time, your shoulder beginning to burn under the strain. There, in the dark. A sound? No, footsteps. A sickly, grey-skinned man wearing a loose, black wrapping of tattered cloth appears out of the darkness. He looks around before speaking, his blackened hands that could have been burned and charred resting at his sides. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. "Quite the dream you have here, Julia," He speaks, still glancing around at the formless void around you, "I wouldn''t wish this upon you, this is a prison meant for me alone, despite the fact my efforts were for the betterment of The Grand Chapter." "Who are you?!" you ask, clenching your unbound hand at him. "Didn''t I say I would tell you when you kill those three people?" he responds, halting in front of you, "Either way, it won''t be that long now, L''Neeri Een''mokk is going to die." Your breath catches. "What?" "Did you realize? L''Neeri has one of the Shards. Yes, he will die soon, but not by your hand. You have been taking too long on this little quest of yours, so I am intervening." "No!" You struggle and flail against the chains holding you suspended, desperation and anger mixing into a rushing concoction. "No!" "Yes, I will. I have sent another Branded One to kill your friend through their Aarkiel, Sell''eff''ind''ond. You might know him, his name is Der''ii." Your eyes widen and you breathe in sharply. You continue struggling. You scream and curse and throw every swear in your knowledge at this grey, charred man. He sighs, "Good luck, Julia, but I''m afraid that he will be too much for you. Go and reclaim what is yours, and become whole again." Everything disappears. *** You bolt awake, sunlight streaming through your windows. L''Neeri. 36. Confront the Lord of the Blaze, and die a death of agony *** You bolt awake, sunlight streaming through your windows. L''Neeri. You have to warn him. You get up, frantically, throwing on the nearest clothes you can find. As you run out of your room, your hair whips behind you. You activate Rising Star and the light envelops you, sending you careening across the Tree that is your home. You slam into the air of the western limbs. You shoot across the distance, the Tree''s gargantuan branches rushing by you as you hurtle like a golden bullet. Within seconds you notice movement in one of the many vast void-like openings in the Tree''s branches, there, moving at great speed, is a boy falling sideways. And he is being chased. Der''ii the Branded One flies in pursuit ablaze with terrible, ochre and white fire. The flames jet out from him like fountains of molten air and water, horrible fonts of destruction, propelling him after his quarry as quickly as L''Neeri falls. You hear Der''ii over the rushing wind, he laughs at the chase, relishing in it. He was going to kill this Branded One, no matter the cost. His path carves a smoking wake of burning leaves and branches, while he killed your friend, he was going to destroy your home as well. You streak after them, pushing yourself to speeds that rival those of your attempt to outrun Sero. L''Neeri suddenly banks left, curving his alien, horizontal descent right at you in a visibly futile attempt to lose his adversary. Der¡¯ii doesn¡¯t waste a moment, a torrential blast of flames jets out of his bare feet with palpable force. The wave of destruction engulfs buildings and branches alike, setting them inescapably ablaze. Der¡¯ii¡¯s chase resumes, him drawing ever closer. The blazing Branded One reaches his outstretched hand towards his quarry as if to grab him by sheer willpower. His rough face a horrible mask of terrible determination. But suddenly, he notices your vaguely human blur of light flashing right at them. You curve around to their right, attempting to move past L¡¯Neeri to get at the flaming man. L¡¯Neeri twists his whole body in the air to face Der¡¯ii, screaming incoherently in desperation. He thrusts out his hand and you see without seeing the air between the two men warp and distort. It seems to lens, mold, and move around an invisible sphere, everything seeming to converge on that point. Der¡¯ii¡¯s eyes widen. He tries to swerve by jetting another wave of flame that destroys everything behind him only for him to get sucked right into the sphere. He screams in agony, his body appearing to be crushed by whatever L¡¯Neeri just did. You slam right into the sphere, grabbing hold of the Branded One inside and rocketing out the other side, barely feeling any of the sphere¡¯s crushing force. You carry the burning man through the air, ramming him and yourself into an unoccupied branch with all the speed you can muster, your Rising Star exploding in a wave of golden light. Der¡¯ii leaps up out of the wooden crater that you created with his body, flames jet out of his extremities as he spins around like a top, pushing you away from him in fear. ¡°I knew it!¡± Der¡¯ii yells, spreading his arms and turning his face to the sky, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you prepare me for this?! Why do you want me to suffer?!¡± The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. L¡¯Neeri finally, roughly, lands next to you, his eyes are wide and he is breathing heavily, he nods to you as if acknowledging your ability. ¡°Have I not suffered enough for you?! What more do you want from me, Sa¡¯Bel?!¡± He is still for a few moments save for heavy exhalations through his teeth. You and L¡¯Neeri exchange a worried, yet relieved glance. You two are together and you can stop this insane man from destroying everything you know. Der¡¯ii turns to you, his hard face twitching violently, murder alight in his eyes. He launches himself forward, flame propelling right at the two of you. You dodge to the side, L¡¯Neeri mirroring your movement to escape the Branded One¡¯s fiery grasp. L¡¯Neeri leaps upward, ascending into the air before swooping back down on the offensive. You throw arrow-like bolts of hard light at Der¡¯ii, causing him to make evasive maneuvers. A deadly dance of light, fire, and the invisible force tying everything to the ground begins. You and L¡¯Neeri attempt to overwhelm your foe, bearing down on him in force. L¡¯Neeri and Der¡¯ii trade physical blows with one another as you keep the flaming man guessing with walls and bolts of tangible light. Your mind races as you fling bolt after bolt at him. Why isn¡¯t anything working? You think frantically as Der¡¯ii manages to slam a fist into L¡¯Neeri¡¯s stomach, causing him to fall away from him. Often, as you began to realize, your bolts would strike Der¡¯ii but do very little besides annoy him or distract him. The best you were doing was peppering his clothes with holes, the former of which had already begun to burn. You glance at L¡¯Neeri after putting up a wall to give yourself some time. He stands, doubling over and holding his stomach, gritting his teeth in pain before shaking himself and leaping again into the air. You nod at him. You had better finish this quickly. You go on the attack again, this time with a silent plan. Der¡¯ii roars, a guttural sound that sounds more animal than human, before charging the two of you. You scream, clapping your hands together. Walls of light slam into existence around Der¡¯ii, one by one boxing him in. He slams his fist against them, trying in rage to escape. L¡¯Neeri, seeing the weakness of his killer, swoops down towards the caged Branded One. He crashes into the box, slamming his right hand into the side. Der¡¯ii screams as the crushing, invisible sphere appears inside the box, inescapably compacting him. You turn away from his agony, his screams as he dies. This is the right thing, You tell yourself, he was going to kill L¡¯Neeri. But then a terrifying thought occurs to you. I was also going to kill him. I agreed too. You shake your head, trying to dispel the thought. You wave your hand, dismissing the box of light. Der¡¯ii¡¯s screams cut off. You don¡¯t turn to look. You begin to walk away but stop when you hear coughing and retching. Der¡¯ii was still alive. Alive, crawling with broken limbs, and speaking. ¡°I¨C¡± He heaves, vomiting all over the ground, ¡°I am not unaccustomed to¨C¡± he heaves again, but nothing comes up, ¡°Suffering. I can handle one more hour of this torture¡­ One more minute, if it means¨C¡± Der¡¯ii stops crawling forward. He reached to his left arm, grasping it with the remaining fingers that work. ¡°SALVATION!¡± He explodes with hellish light. Crimson, cerulean, white, and black flames erupt from around him. He stands, whole once again. But missing his arm. 37. Burn He stands, whole once again. But missing his arm. A sense of immense revulsion washes over you as you watch Der¡¯ii slowly and shakily walk forward toward you, bathed in multicolored, scintillating flames. ¡°Run.¡± You say quickly to L¡¯Neeri, who stands transfixed by the terrible light show. ¡°What? Whe¨C¡± ¡°Just run!¡± You turn, dragging the man with the silver hair with you. L¡¯Neeri doesn¡¯t object, he allows you to pull him along as he watches over his shoulder. The flaming Branded One growls, flames flowing off his one arm-less body. He almost seems to wrestle with himself, twitching and writhing, head lashing back and forth as tongues of flame of every color blaze around him, burning waves of charcoal into the wood of the Titan Tree underfoot. Der¡¯ii roars again, dashing wildly after you like a crazed, wild animal. He scrambles, occasionally using his only remaining hand to steady himself as he trips and falls, fire jetting behind him and propelling him forward after you. ¡°Do your thing!¡± Your best friend yells desperately from next to you. The two of you leap out over the abyss, your stomach lurches as gravity takes hold before the light envelops you. You hold as tight to L¡¯Neeri as you can, pulling him along at breakneck speed. Der¡¯ii explodes after you, his cascade of fire obliterating the brach that you leaped from. You flee out over the clouds, attempting to lead Der¡¯ii away from your home. He follows without hesitation, his blistering flames incinerating the smaller, outer branches and leaves of the Titan Tree. ¡°Down! Into the underworld!¡± L¡¯Neeri shouts over the rushing wind, his eyes squinted against the assailing sky. You shoot downward, Der¡¯ii in close pursuit, breaking through the cloud layer into the twisting, monstrously massive roots of the Titan Trees. You and your pursuer dance among the waves of wood, diving, ducking, and weaving around roots whose diameters could house houses. Der¡¯ii screams in frustration, reaching with his remaining hand in a futile attempt to grasp you. You lead him across the expanse, past roots and alien Titan Trees alike, Your passage barely disturbs the verdant life upon the roots, only for it all to be annihilated by Der¡¯ii¡¯s incinerating fire. Der¡¯ii suddenly begins firing projectiles at the two of you. Spinning wheels of horrible, scintillating plasma that leaks scorching heat pass mere inches from your left side, blazing their effervescent paths downward. Three of the wheels violently explode upon impact with a root below, sending it and their brethren plummeting into the abyss. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The barrage of flame wheels continues, all coming so close to you. You dodge to the best of your ability, once required to shoot one out of the sky with a well-placed bolt. Der¡¯ii grows ever more wrathful, now making more complex maneuvers instead of simply chasing. He begins attempting to cut your turns off and firing wheels from his hand to box you in. He was learning. You maneuver under a particularly large root that arcs up like an Aso¡¯une¡¯aawn in carefree flight, attempting to loop around and catch Der¡¯ii off guard. The ablaze man isn¡¯t fooled. He goes over the root instead of under, slamming right into you and L¡¯Neeri. Both of you plummet as Rising Star dissipates, tumbling head over heels, Der¡¯ii careens past the impact point before looping back around. You and the silver-haired man reassert yourselves, both righting yourselves in the air above the root. Der¡¯ii approaches rapidly, his propellant cone of flame extending behind him like a cape of death. ¡°We confront him on the root!¡± You yell, ¡°No holding back, we aren¡¯t near home!¡± L¡¯Neeri nods, falling to the wood below to dodge the approaching demise. Der¡¯ii wastes no time following. Der¡¯ii lands hard, his impact expelling a wave of flame across the wood. You leverage Rising Star to zip up and over it and L¡¯Neeri deftly leaps over it, unchained to the earth¡¯s pull. The two of you land on either side of your foe, simultaneously striking him as Der¡¯ii roars in pain. You follow through with your light-empowered punch before blasting light the other way, propelling your hand the way it came. You backhand Der¡¯ii with as much force as you can muster. He stumbles right into L¡¯Neeri, who sweeps his feet out from under him by grabbing his legs and pulling. Der¡¯ii¡¯s bruised face slams into the root underfoot as he accidentally attempts to use his non-existent hand to catch himself. L¡¯Neeri¡¯s hand presses into Der¡¯ii¡¯s prone back before he can get himself up, and the Branded One suddenly falls up into the air. Right into your waiting hands. You zip up into the air, intercepting Der¡¯ii¡¯s falling body. You, in Rising Star, grab ahold of him before slamming him back into the root below. You stand atop his broken body for only a heartbeat, and you hear him speak. ¡°I¡­ need¡­ more¡­¡± Suddenly, an explosion of fire and fury shakes the underworld, knocking you away from Der¡¯ii. You see him shakily stand up in his charred crater, blood flowing from his broken nose. Something is wrong. Der¡¯ii has one less finger. You see L¡¯Neeri, behind Der¡¯ii, leap again. The flaming Branded One whips around, blasting himself into the air to meet him there. Ochre flames whip and shift, coalescing into a shimmering, jagged hand of flame. Der¡¯ii and L¡¯Neeri clash in the air, Der¡¯ii¡¯s flaming hand and the warped space in L¡¯Neeri¡¯s palm slamming together with an alien, high-pitched scream like the world itself was dying. Der¡¯ii follows through L¡¯Neeri, flying past him as the gravity Branded One lands on the root below. He spins in the air, blasting back down at L¡¯Neeri. Again and again, they clash, each time that horrible scream echoes from their strikes. Der¡¯ii steadily advances on him, and L¡¯Neeri backpedals. You activate Rising Star again, shooting towards them, straining to help. ¡°L¡¯Neeri!¡± You cry, reaching for him. He turns to look, and a flaming blade pierces his chest from behind. 38. The Chalice of Souls He turns to look at you, and a flaming blade pierces his chest from behind. L¡¯Neeri stares at the molten, steaming, curved blade protruding from his abdomen with an almost empty stare. He seems confused at what just occurred. Rising Star fails, sending you crashing into the root. You bounce and slide, pain flaring from your side as you impact the wood. It seems distant and unimportant, and so you ignore it. You scramble to your feet, dashing forward as Der¡¯ii harshly pulls the blade from L¡¯Neeri¡¯s body before turning and walking away. ¡°I have done it! Am I good enough for you? Set me FREE!¡± Der¡¯ii screams to the heavens with raised arms, his flaming arm long since burned away his shirt. L¡¯Neeri slumps, catching himself weakly with his hand. ¡°Nova?¡± You finally reach him, holding his shoulders to steady him. ¡°Come on, get up, we¡¯re not done.¡± ¡°Nova, it burns¡­¡± His breathing is coming in shallow, his eyes unfocusing and refocusing rapidly. The smell of burnt flesh invades your nostrils, making your eyes water and your nose wrinkle. ¡°No. No, come on L¡¯Neeri, you can¡¯t die yet.¡± You say firmly as if trying to force reality to make it so. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, it¡¯s not over yet.¡± L¡¯Neeri, falls to the ground, sitting down on the wood. His brow furrows as if he is trying to remember something. ¡°Why, do I feel this way?¡± Tears well up in your eyes, replacing those from the smell. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Sa¡¯Bel! Answer me! Return to me what is mine and set me free!¡± Der¡¯ii shouts from a little ways away. ¡°I feel¡­ like I am meant to do this.¡± L¡¯Neeri whispers, ¡°I feel a weird, connection to you. Like I am physically tied to you.¡± ¡°No.¡± You say weakly, ¡°No no no no no¡­Shut up! Come on! Stay with me, please!¡± He puts a hand to his wound. L¡¯Neeri begins to ease himself onto his back but you stop him by embracing him. ¡°I¡¯m just going to rest for a moment, Nova¡­¡± You feel blood pooling under him. ¡°I am¡­ tired¡­ Just let me rest¨C¡± ¡°No!¡± You slap him, trying desperately to keep him awake. ¡°Not yet, don¡¯t go away!¡± He recoils from the strike, blinking quickly as he holds a bloodstained hand to his cheek. He sits there, silent and embraced by you. The only sound besides his and your breathing is Der¡¯ii screaming at the top of his lungs. ¡°Nova¨C¡± L¡¯Neeri finally says. His silver-colored hair brushes your face as he turns his head. ¡°...Yes?¡± you say as you hold in a sob. He is barely breathing now. ¡°Don¡¯t cry.¡± He takes another shallow, weak breath, ¡°Kill him for m¨C¡± And he is silent. You weep. Sobbing silently as you hold his lifeless, burned body in your arms, as Der¡¯ii finally stops shouting at the sky. The wind blows, rustling the burnt plant life around you as you cry. Brushing against your tattered clothes and your burned skin uncomfortably. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it You kneel there and hold him for some time. Time loses its meaning, why did it need a meaning? You weep, and then suddenly, you fall through him. There is no contact, no feeling. His body is gone. He simply disappeared. You blink away the fat tears that cloud your vision, searching frantically for your best friend¡¯s body. Something seems to break like all is coming undone. Foreign memories suddenly assault you like animals, each clawing at your soul for your direct attention. L¡¯Neeri¡¯s entirety flashing before you. His existence is laid out in front of your eyes. You Know everything about him down to the most minute detail. You see his parents, his friends, you, every embarrassing moment, every triumph, every failing, every pain and bliss he had ever felt, every instant up until he died, all shown to you all at once. You cry out, screaming as your mind, body, and soul shift. You are thrown to your feet, your body writhing, thrashing, and spasming wildly as you stumble around, screaming. Der¡¯ii looks upon you with horror, he edges away as your body contorts at alien angles. He raises his hands, now restored to him in a warding gesture as you fall down to the root, rolling and spasming. Streams of golden light leak from your body, showering the ground around you with the molten embers of the sun. You scream yourself hoarse, your body being thrown about as if great invisible hands were batting you around. Your hair, previously a deep chocolate brown, bleaches itself premature silver as you vomit on the root underfoot. What was your name? Nova, right? But L¡¯Neeri feels right as well. You think to yourself as the pain subsides enough for you to make sense of yourself. Breathing heavily and bent over from heaving, you hold your head, alien white hair cascading through your fingers as a torrent of being rushes through your mind. Through the inane rambling of you and yourself, a single phrase resolves itself. ¡°Kill him.¡± A low growl escapes your gritted teeth as you look upon the shaken Branded One. Der¡¯ii stands, eyes wide and breath heavy, Flaccid flames lick the air around him, much weaker than what you just fought and died to. ¡°Finally, I am free! This can end! No more suffering!¡± Der¡¯ii says, his tone that of attempted reason. You straighten, all falling away. A new feeling settles inside with you, yourself, and your circle of stone. A chain of beads the color of night. From them a warm, pulling sensation spreads, and along with them, awareness of what binds everything together. Your memories of its usage cascade in, detailing your previous mastery of it. Your hands clench into fists, ¡°Kill him¡± resounding over and over in your head. You respond. Your mission finally, truly takes shape in your mind. ¡°There will be no more suffering,¡± Your eyes lock with his, ¡°once you die.¡± You suddenly flash forward, Rising Star combining with First Tensor. A light and gravity-empowered strike instantly blindsides Der¡¯ii and his body is sent careening out over the abyss. You blast out to meet him, never wasting a second. The flaming one screams, fire exploding into life around him as you take hold of his body. The flames lick at you hungrily, searching for anything to burn and destroy. You ignore them, slamming Der¡¯ii again into the wood of another root. Der¡¯ii leaps up, casting you off of him. He leaps back, tossing wheels of ochre flame at you, all of which you deftly dodge. You dash at him, creating a wall of light to deflect more oncoming wheels as you run. The golden pane of light appears suddenly, causing several wheels to detonate and create a large cloud of grey smoke. You sprint through the smoke, waving your arm and using Second Tensor along with a bolt of light. The bolt takes on a strange, warped appearance, combining the arrow-like jaggedness of the bolt and the strange, twisting, spherical shape of Second Tensor. It blasts forward, slicing through the cloud of smoke and right through Der¡¯ii¡¯s left side. He looks down, astonished. There, where the arrow meets flesh, is a titanic gash that doesn¡¯t bleed, instead, the skin around the slice greys and withers like ash. You activate First Tensor again, leaping upward in a grand, soaring arc, your body becoming significantly lighter due to First Tensor, before throwing more of the strange Tensor Arrows. Der¡¯ii dodges away quickly. Flames build below his feet, turning the wood a dangerous orange. He explodes up, right at you, but you are ready. A box of golden light clamps down around Der¡¯ii¡¯s flying form, Third Tensor appears inside. You zap at his trapped body, crushed under Third Tensor''s gravity, before slicing through him with a blade made of light the color of the sun. Both of you land, his body crashing to the wood with a disgusting crunch and splat. You don¡¯t even get to look at his body before the darkness overwhelms you, casting you into the abyss of unconsciousness. 39. Dusts Prison Under the World *** You are walking. You don¡¯t remember starting, and you don¡¯t know where you are going. Darkness stretches out in all directions, a miasma of the night that oozes hungrily around a little bubble around you. Your bare feet slap against the cool, flat, dead-feeling ground as you walk, never finding anything to be harmed upon. Inside your little bubble, a little field so small that you couldn¡¯t fully extend both arms in either direction, a dim light, whose source you can¡¯t determine, illuminates everything until the darkness. It feels suffocating, claustrophobic even. You continue to walk, completely unaware of which direction you are headed in. You look around you at your little ovoid bubble, at how the darkness isn¡¯t complete outside of it. It roils and boils like smoke or steam inside a closed container, never sitting still but never filling the space. You hug your arms around your body and wring your hands, fidgeting as the darkness seems to press in on you. The darkness aches. It wishes to crush, choke, suffocate, and kill. You quicken your pace, eager to be out of this place. The Abyss stretches seemingly endlessly, with no respite from the claustrophobia. You begin running, straining to be away from wherever you are. The miasma is disturbed by your passing like smoke after a hand is passed through its contours and vapors. You run and you keep running until you suddenly break into a clearing. An oasis in which the darkness doesn¡¯t roil. You glance around, breath coming in fast but not difficult from running. The darkness twists and runs about outside of this little bubble, unable to get in, but still blocking the light. You turn your eyes to the center of the sphere and your spine goes cold. There, in the middle of the oasis, is a chained man. He is no longer being hung by his left hand, instead only bound by the ankles by the shiny bands and the chains that extend into the darkness beyond. His skin, previously a sickly grey, is now an ashen tan, like a tree that was burned and has since healed. He wears only a pair of storm-cloud-grey trousers that are so frayed at the ends that they might have been furred. ¡°Nova! Oh, how great it is to see your face,¡± he exclaims as if you were an old friend. He rolls his left shoulder, producing a series of loud pops and cracks that are audible from where you are standing. ¡°Shut your ashen mouth, Sa¡¯Bel. I know what you set me up to do.¡± You spit back at him, a scowl twisting your face. ¡°Oh, do you? Please, enlighten me.¡± he taunts, inspecting his broken, decaying fingernails idly. ¡°You killed me and I killed your servant, Der¡¯ii. You want me to be your assassin, but I¡¯m not going to do it.¡± He rolls his wrist without looking at you, ¡°How strange that you call yourself L¡¯Neeri, now.¡± He turns his sharp, piercing gaze to you, ¡°You don¡¯t even know half of it, do you?¡± You shift slightly, uncomfortable. ¡°I know enough.¡± You respond as flatly as you can muster, hoping that the chained man doesn¡¯t catch on. The man shifts his feet, causing the chains to rattle and ping across the floor. He shakes his head but doesn¡¯t say anything else. ¡°Now, how did you get here, Nova? This is my prison alone, but it will not be much longer.¡± ¡°Are you named Oblivion?¡± Sa¡¯Bel seems taken aback by the question. He murmurs, still audible but obviously to himself, ¡°Is that what they have Named me?¡± He pauses as if running it through his mind, ¡°Why could that be?¡± ¡°Are you called Oblivion?¡± you restate, forcing the chained man to spill his seemingly infinite secrets to you. His chains rattle and ping again. ¡°I was called Dust,¡± He gazes out into the darkness beyond his oasis, ¡°I had a brother, too. He was named Breath before I killed him.¡± You unconsciously step forward to hear his story that you somehow, miraculously managed to pry from his ashen lips, careful not to disturb his tale-weaving so that you might hear more. Maybe something to use against him. ¡°Yes, it was a necessity. I mourned for him as I did it, but he simply would not be swayed to my side. He adamantly stated that the Primordials were above man and that I could never achieve my goal.¡± ¡°What is your goal?¡± you ask tentatively, hoping desperately he won¡¯t stop talking. ¡°I only wished to bring order to a chaotic, violent, tumultuous, WORTHLESS UNIVERSE!¡± His words climax in a roar filled with irate, frustrated hatred of everything that lives. He screams at the hidden heavens with such odium that even the miasma outside the boundary shies away. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°I WOULD BRING HAPPINESS TO THIS MISERABLE, WORTHLESS UNIVERSE, RID IT OF IT¡¯S MEANINGLESS SUFFERING!¡± Oblivion rages against himself, roaring and writhing there, bound by his ankles, ¡°I WOULD RIP THE GRAND CHAPTER FROM THE INCOMPETENT HANDS OF BRADE, AND FREE IT FROM THE VILENESS, THE INIQUITY THAT HE TURNS A BLIND EYE TO!¡± You shy away from Dust, instinctively placing your hands wardingly between you and him. The chained man breathes heavily, growling, groaning, seething, there in the center of the oasis. He clutches his head, bent over at the waist. He snarls through his teeth like a bound animal, fighting the psychological bonds placed upon him. You watch with wide eyes, unable to turn away as Dust fights with himself until his strength is spent. He stands there for a time, eyes cast to the ground, back slumped, arms limp at his sides. ¡°Go.¡± He states solemnly, defeated. ¡°Kill the Aarkiel.¡± He turns and walks away as the soupy darkness envelops you, his chains snaking after him like loud, loyal snakes biting at his heels. You don¡¯t fight it as you are pulled out of that horrible place, and you wonder to yourself if you should feel pity for the imprisoned man. The man named Oblivion. *** Charred, ashen grass tickles your face as the soft, grey light of the underworld invades your eyelids as if it were a roving Branded One looking for a Tree to conquer. One of the many things the Bookmongers get wrong about most Branded Ones. You shift, the wood underneath you unyielding and uncomfortable. You groan and cough. Terrible aches and pains suddenly present themselves to you like the court of a Queen eager to have her attention. You hear a familiar voice speak from out of your field of view. ¡°Oh! She¡¯s awake!¡± Sel¡¯Ozsia the Branded One¡¯s disembodied voice shouts from a little ways away. You blink and open your eyes to the grey light as much as your mind allows but you don¡¯t move. Sel¡¯Ozsia¡¯s head and torso pop into view above you, ¡°Hello, Nova! Sorry about the pain, I can¡¯t heal someone if they are unconscious.¡± She quickly takes your face in her hands and the soreness disappears. You sit up, stretching as the Grabber speaks again, ¡°Hey, Nova, where is L¡¯Neeri? And what happened to you? What did you do to your hair?¡± Painful memories arrive in flashes. ¡°He¨C he is dead.¡± You manage, ¡°He was killed by,¡± you cough, ¡°the Branded One Der¡¯ii. I managed to take revenge for him.¡± Sel¡¯Ozsia¡¯s eyes cloud and her face twists slightly with grief. ¡°Oh.¡± That¡¯s all she says. You two sit there for a moment, your head hung. You sift slowly through your new memories, straining against the torrent of sorrow you feel building below. No, not right now. I can grieve later, I need to get home. ¡°And this?¡± You gesture to your new, prematurely grey hair, ¡°I have no idea, it just happened after L¡¯Neeri died.¡± Your Grabber comrade seems to ponder some possibilities, but she ultimately comes up empty-handed. ¡°I have no idea what you mean. This may require some study.¡± You jump back, surprised, as Yyl flashes to the side of Sel¡¯Ozsia. A burst of wind blusters around you, ¡°Study of what? Oh, hi, Nova.¡± The small woman glares up at the speedy, lanky man, who raises an eyebrow to restate his question. ¡°The study of why Nova¡¯s body changed after L¡¯Neeri¡¯s death.¡± The Grabber replies begrudgingly, sighing and looking out over the abyss. ¡°Oh, Blaze of L¡¯Oos, he¡¯s dead?¡± Yyl seems quite distraught, looking at both of you while messing up his hair with his hands. You avoid his gaze. Yyl appears to wrestle with the new information, before ultimately saying, ¡°Hkaa, who did it? I¡¯ll kill that Kiisk, I¡¯ll¨C¡± ¡°He¡¯s already dead.¡± You cut him off, stating. The speedy man¡¯s face twitches and contorts. He looks around wildly and then seems to calm himself a little, and then he is gone in a puff of wind. You sit there with Sel¡¯Ozsia for a while, sorting through your new memories of L¡¯Neeri, watching the scenery, and being in her company. The silence feels awkward, but also sorrowful, and you don¡¯t know if you should break it. The small woman does it for you. ¡°Did you manage to see his Token die?¡± She says, not looking at you, ¡°All Tokens go out some way or another. It is said to say what kind of relationship you had with your Patron.¡± ¡°I have it right here.¡± You say, producing the chain of beads the color of night. Sel¡¯Ozsia¡¯s face brightens a little, ¡°So he lives?¡± You turn away. ¡°How is it that you have his Token?¡± ¡°...I don¡¯t know. My friend is most definitely dead.¡± It feels, deep down, like the statement was truly, immutably final. As if the alternatives are lost forever. L¡¯Neeri, Branded One, friend, teacher, was wholly, unchangeably dead. The two of you sit in silence again. Back to the drawing board. This time nobody breaks the silence for quite some time, and you cry. You said you wouldn¡¯t, but here you are. It stretches and stretches, for what seems like hours, until finally, the rumbling baritone of Dah¡¯Grahs sounds from far away, shouting, ¡°Come, my friends, I have extracted what we came for, we must go home.¡± You wipe the stubborn tears from your eyes and face, not wanting to seem incompetent to these people, before getting up and pondering what to do. 40. A path to self-reconciliation You wipe the stubborn tears from your eyes and face, not wanting to seem incompetent to these people, before getting up and pondering what to do. ¡°Hey,¡± Sel¡¯Ozsia begins softly, ¡°Do you want to come back with us? We can drop you off at your home Tree if you want¡­¡± You wipe your eyes again, ¡°...No, I¡¯ll find my way back by myself. Thank you, Sel¡¯Ozsia, for everything.¡± You exchange a weak smile, before she turns to her waiting companions, leaving you alone among the roots. You watch as a massive tendril of wood breaks away from the root under the Ben¡¯Marmenent, carrying them across the abyss on a pavilion of roots. You watch them go from root to root for a little while, watching them disappear slowly into the distance. They move fluidly from root to root, never slowing or stopping in an alien zig-zag-like movement as Dah¡¯Grahs carries them homeward like water flowing downstream. You brush your prematurely silver hair off of your face and take a deep breath before launching yourself to your right. You flash off the root as the golden light envelops you again. You weave above and below the twisting, dancing, outstretched roots of the Titan Trees with a calm ease. Flowing from each zipping direction to the next like a bolt of lightning on its holiday. Your passage casts out a golden trail of sparkling dust that fades like mist to the morning light. You shake your head and shoot upward from the net of roots and into the moist, cloudy void below the cloud layer. You glide that way, parallel to your home Tree. You rocket under the clouds, casting your glow across the infinite orange-tinged valleys and ridges, the swells and sweeps. Just flying. Free. The roots underneath you begin to converge in a twisting, jagged vortex of wood, notifying you of the oncoming Titan Tree. You dip downwards slightly, before launching yourself skyward. You break from the clouds and into the setting sun. You crane your neck, eyes searching the gargantuan pillar of wood and the innumerable, colossal branches of the approaching Tree, its grandeur shoved in your face and just begging for attention. You continue your ascent, approaching the canopy, mind occupied with thoughts that never occurred to you in the heat of battle. What has happened to your home Tree? Was everyone able to put Der¡¯ii¡¯s fire out? These thoughts settled a seed of dread in your golden stomach as you neared closer and closer to the habitable zone of the Titan Tree, the place where the branches were dense enough to sustain civilization. The sun blazes behind you as you alight upon an outreaching branch sporting miniature, drooping leaves on long, stem-like chains. Wait, Trees are different from one another? The thought occurs to you as you caress the chain of pea-sized leaves. You widen your eyes and raise your eyebrows in surprise as you walk inward, struck with the sudden internal grandeur of this Titan Tree. The inside of the Titan Tree opens up like an immense leafy cathedral, a webbed hall of life fit for L¡¯Oos herself. The leafless inside of the Tree is adorned with copious amounts of colored spheres spackled across every bare limb. People walk the woody pathways, pavilions, and tunnels in grand throngs of mirthful laughter and joyous chatter while airy, fluty music drifts upon the sun-blazed wind. The music rustles the leaf chains behind your back and wipes away the stubborn, hidden tears and lingering, tense anxiety from your wide eyes like a mother comforting her child. You flash upward, dodging around branches and platforms easily, rising above the amazed, astonished throngs of people. People cheer and holler as you flash forward over their heads, cheering ¡°Branded One! Branded One!¡± You slow your flight above the abyss, instinctively utilizing L¡¯Neeri¡¯s First Tensor to keep yourself afloat after Rising Star dismisses. You hang weightless, watching the amazed people cheer at the spectacle and smiling. You kick-off of a nearby branch, soaring in a wide, falling loop. Gravity pulls you down, but you control where and what down is. You laugh, the freedom of the open air invading your psyche and casting out your pain. You zip around, flashing from each position to the next fluidly and quickly, appearing at each new location in an explosion of golden light. You make golden loops around the branches and you flash among them, causing several people to cry out in surprise as you blast past them in the tight confines of the crowds. You continue the spectacle for a little while, relishing in the loud attention, until people begin to continue. The festival continued forward as usual. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. You hang above the abyss again, resting from your display of power, when an unfamiliar person suddenly appears, walking out to meet you. The woman, maybe in her middle years, walks upon an invisible staircase. She sports unbelievably long hair, the golden tresses stretching down to her floating, bare feet in a mind-bogglingly complex array of braids. They swing absently like pendulums as she walks her way out over the abyss without a care in the world. ¡°Who are you? Why are you here?¡± she asks sternly but not tensely, as if she wasn''t afraid of the danger you might pose and instead worried for your safety. Almost like how a mother would scold a misbehaving child. ¡°I am Nova, I am just visiting, I have no hostile intentions.¡± You respond, a little annoyed at the perceived tone of this woman. The woman looks slightly unconvinced, the creases in her unblemished face deepening, ¡°I have no reason to trust you, Outsider. Not since the appearance of that other Branded One. He keeps yapping about finding a Branded One curiously named Nova. I don¡¯t want anything happening during my Festival of the Sun. Leave before I¨C¡± ¡°Take me to him,¡± you interject. ¡°...What?¡± It takes her a moment to respond. ¡°I think I know him, he has no quarrels with me. Your Tree and your festival will be left alone.¡± She raises an eyebrow, ¡°...If you are lying, I will kill both of you and personally throw your bodies into Sa¡¯Bel¡¯s domain.¡± She says dangerously before turning and walking away, motioning for you to follow. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything anyway, I just don¡¯t want to do anything tonight, it is my off-day.¡± You are beginning to not like this Branded One more and more, but you follow her anyway, floating downward slowly, staying behind her. She leads you through the net of sphere-adorned branches and the gathered crowds of people. You gaze curiously at the attractions, little carts handing out masks, painted spheres, food, and other festival commodities, performers belting out upbeat music using long, straight, and curved flutes alike, and people dancing on a raised platform wearing intricate costumes made of brightly colored feathers. They dance with practiced ease as a narrator offstage tells the age-old story of how L¡¯Oos and her sisters subdued Sa¡¯Bel and imprisoned him under the world.d The masked women onstage flow in formation as the similarly masked man dressed as Sa¡¯Bel ¡°fights¡± them. His costume is a suit of interlocking slabs of wood dyed ashen grey and royal purple that clack together as he moves, contrasting the soft shifting of the Moons¡¯ and L¡¯Oos¡¯s feathers. His mask is a flat slab of painted wood with eye holes, giving him a strange, mysterious look. The woman costumed as the blue Moon Kienaa danced past the green-feathered Liowyy, approaching ¡°Sa¡¯Bel¡± as if to strike him. The man recoils, feigning a hit. As he does so, the gathered crowd goes wild around you. The performance continues with the mock battle seeming hopeless as Sa¡¯bel strikes down Hinmee and Daevoo, who had turned into the Moons above, bringing the battle to a climax as the golden-feathered L¡¯Oos makes her final stand against the god of death with her remaining sisters. You cheer along with the people around you as the performance ends. L¡¯Oos dramatically, with the help of Eirii, Phentuu, Loiwyy, and Kienaa, seals death itself away under the world. People begin to leave for other attractions, leaving you and your guide with the stragglers. You look to your guide, who looks as if she only slightly enjoyed the performance. She points to the performers who were coming down off the stage, ¡°There he is.¡± Your eyes immediately go to the man costumed as Sa¡¯Bel, and you go up to him. ¡°Hello, you wanted to see me?¡± You say as he begins removing his costume. ¡°Huh? Who are you? What do you mean?¡± The man responds, removing his mask to reveal an unfamiliar face framed with short, black hair and unchecked stubble. He blinks at you as if searching his memory. ¡°Uh, sorry, my mistake, I have the wrong person¡­¡± You whip your head around, looking for the person your blond-haired guide gestured to. ¡°Oh! Hyo, Nova!¡± A voice speaks from behind the actor, you peek around him to look at the person who spoke and find the actress who played Kienaa, or rather, the actor. Underneath the blue-feathered, avian mask is Sero, or a woman whose face and voice suddenly shift into Sero¡¯s. ¡°What the¨C?!¡± You jump back in surprise. ¡°Huh?!¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you here! What did you do to your hair? I didn¡¯t know this planet had hair dye.¡± You try to speak, but nothing comes out. ¡°Ohh, yeah.¡± He waves to his costume, which appears to be a semi-decent slit dress comprised completely of feathers, ¡°I used Kryninian Form Shifting.¡± He says it like it was supposed to mean anything, ¡°Also, this costume is a little, uh, not for me?¡± He adjusts it to cover himself a little better. ¡°...Why?¡± ¡°Why what? Be in a play? I don¡¯t know, I thought it would be fun. I haven¡¯t experienced good, fun, human interaction since I left Kah Loon.¡± ¡°No, no, why pick a female part?¡± ¡°Oh, the previous actress had other engagements, so I offered to help, and besides, Pheii said I could stay, only if, I helped her.¡± He waves to the Blond-haired Branded One who was speaking with the man who played Sa¡¯Bel. She casts a half-annoyed, half-grateful look at Sero, tossing one massive braid back behind her, the strange man smirks back at her. ¡°So! What are you doing here?¡± He asks, placing his Kienaa Mask on top of his head. ¡°I, uh, I was exploring, trying to get my mind off of some things.¡± You respond, absently touching and prodding the discarded green costume of Liowyy. ¡°Oh, uh, you want to talk about it?¡± He asks, motioning with his head down an unoccupied path. You can tell he is trying to be nice and thoughtful. ¡°Um, sure.¡± You say after thinking for a moment, grabbing the Liowyy mask, a skittish or almost hyperactive-looking squirrel mask, from atop the pile of green feathers. You place it on your head like Sero and follow him down the path. 41. A Chat with the Sunweaver ¡°Oh, uh, you want to talk about it?¡± He asks, motioning with his head down an unoccupied path. You can tell he is trying to be nice and thoughtful. ¡°Um, sure.¡± You say after thinking for a moment, grabbing the Daevoo mask from atop the pile of purple feathers. You place it on your head like Sero and follow him down the path. The path leads the two of you along a curving path a little below the majority of the festival¡¯s attractions. The sun continues to set behind you, the last blazing rays forcing their way through the wall of leaf chains as you gaze out at the leafy abyss. ¡°Soooo, uh, what happened to you?¡± Sero begins awkwardly, ¡°Dvriri, you would expect me to be better at this with how long I¡¯ve been alive, but nope!¡± He throws his hands up in defeat at his therapeutic ineptitude. ¡°It''s alright,¡± You respond, a speck of a smile leaking from the sides of your mouth. You open it to say something, but you stop yourself. Now is not the time. A voice speaks in your mind, your voice. Don¡¯t cry for me, Nova. We are almost whole again. The image of L¡¯Neeri pierced through with Der¡¯ii¡¯s blade of fire, his eyes wide and confused, Der¡¯ii¡¯s face behind L¡¯Neeri¡¯s head filled with exultant, fervorous anticipation, flashes through your mind, an image that you shake off quickly. A chill breeze carrying the shrill cry of Treebirds breathes its rustling breath through the leaves as you and your companion wind your way through the branches of this alien Titan Tree. A comforting sound, one that shows that this place isn¡¯t so different from home. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡°Home.¡± The word comes unbidden to your mouth as you stare out over the dying sunset-lit cloud layer. A faint inhalation sounds from the lanky man beside you as you say it. ¡°Home,¡± He repeats quietly, ¡°What does that mean to you?¡± You pause, ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not sure.¡± The sun dies behind the Titan Tree, casting the world into the first fizz of twilight, ¡°My home is where I was born, where I grew up, and where I thought I would die for L¡¯Oos. But, now,¡± you gesture to the black bands on your arm somewhat covered by your sleeve, ¡°That might not be the case anymore.¡± The son of Eun turns to walk away, his voice quiet, ¡°Hope to die among family, that is the crux. Hope to die later, for you have a destiny to fulfill.¡± You turn to look at him, eyes falling on the Rhodos¡¯s glowing, cyan-ish-white rings as they float absently in front of his raised hand. ¡°That''s really inspirational, Sero.¡± ¡°You think so?¡± the rings disappear, ¡°Heh, I wasn¡¯t even trying.¡± He turns and bows mockingly, ¡°Sero, motivation extraordinaire, at your service, milady.¡± ¡°Oh, shut up. I am no ¡®milady¡¯.¡± You swat at him as you walk past him. The sun dies upon the hidden horizon, casting the world into the first fizz of twilight. As the L¡¯Oos blazes her glory to the night, the Festival of the Sun explodes again into action. Throngs of festival-goers dance and sing to the now everpresent music, flutes whistle and drums beat in some celebration. Alien food seems to magically appear upon every raised surface: mushrooms, fruit, and even, paradoxically, charred meat sit available to all on dishes of polished wood. You move among the crowds of joyous people, unable to fully feel their passion. You smile, but it is a weak, fake-feeling smile that only emulates others, never truly belonging. ¡°Nova! Wait up!¡± Sero says over the cacophony of musical festivity. You look over your shoulder at the man who had somehow ditched his ill-fitting costume for what he was wearing when you first met him in a matter of seconds. Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of what he has done as he wades and dodges his way through the dancing crowd. ¡°Nova, what if¨C woah!¡± he spins past a brightly dressed couple dancing in each other arms, lithely catching his stumbling feet before he could careen into another group, ¡°what if I taught you, something? Are you busy right now?¡± 42. A chance to learn ¡°Nova, what if¨C woah!¡± he spins past a brightly dressed couple dancing in each other arms, lithely catching his stumbling feet before he could careen into another group, ¡°What if I taught you something? Are you busy right now?¡± ¡°I, uh,¡± You spin, dodging a careless dancer whose eyes were shut in festive motion, ¡°I need to fly back to my home Tree, and assess the damage, I¡¯ve put it off for too long. What are you teaching me?¡± ¡°Ah! Don¡¯t worry, it will only take 14 uru, I¡¯ll even walk you home, if you want of course.¡± Sero responds, wading over to you and pulling you along through the dancing crowd. You furrow your brow at his strange choice of number, unfamiliar time marking, and the offer to walk home, of all things, but you let him pull you along anyway. He leads you out of the festive people swaying and spinning their cares away and out on an untrodden limb. He turns to you, hands grasping your upper arms lightly, but firmly before saying, quietly, ¡°Alright, the feeling is strange at first, but goes away quickly. Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re going to be fine. Are you ready?¡± ¡°Huh? What are you¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯m doing it in three¡­¡± ¡°Hold on, what are you doing?¡± ¡°I¡¯m taking us to a safer place. Two¡­¡± The glowing rings of the Rhodos on the man¡¯s bandaged chest begin to spin, accelerating quickly. ¡°Hold on! What do you mean¨C¡± ¡°One!¡± Sero flashes with sky blue light, which splashes over you like hyperactive water, a child that ate too much sugar. The water-like light flows up and over you quickly, enveloping you before you can say anything. The light runs up your arms, connecting with itself at your torso. The instant the light reconnects with itself, everything goes dark. Blackness. You suddenly float alone amongst an empty void, but only for a moment. Pinpricks of pure white explode around you, rushing away from your eyes in infinite streams of snowy light. A deluge of terrified memories. It lasts only for an instant. An instant recollection of the past. Whiteness. You stand, upright and shocked, unable to fully comprehend what happened. A white void stretches in all directions. Almost matte, for you can, strangely enough, tell the ''sky'' from the ''ground''. The floor beneath your bare feet feels cold and alien: hard, unyielding, and grain-less. You breathe out, chilled to the bone. You whip your head around, searching for the twisting throne of Tyrr¡¯onli¡¯nel¡¯mul. Only, you find Sero, his unnatural, crimson clothing standing out from the ocean of white like a single yellow leaf among a sea of green. ¡°Welcome, m¡¯lady, to Travelspace,¡± He announces, sweeping his bandaged arms outward dramatically, ¡°The Highway of the Grand Chapter.¡± You open your mouth to say something, but only confused gibberish appears as your eyes search the distant, white horizon for some meaning, some revelation of strange, alien existence. What was this place? How have you gotten here? ¡°...Are you ok, Nova?¡± he asks, arms still spread. ¡°I know Travelspace is sometimes hard on those experiencing it for the first time, but that,¡± his arms fall as he motions to you, ¡°is not normal.¡± ¡°How did we get into my Patron¡¯s domain?¡± You ask suddenly, the words surfacing from the gibberish. Sero seems confused and slightly surprised at the remark, ¡°Patron? Oh! Are you talking about a Godspirit? More massive Faen do sometimes make their domains on Travelspace.¡± ¡°...Godspirit? Faen?¡± The terms unfamiliar and strange in your mouth, ¡°My patron, the Aarkiel, Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul, who gave me my abilities, has called me to his domain several times. I have been called to this place before.¡± A small recess of your mind feels for the chain of beads, saying, Ure¡¯nairn¡¯itah¡¯likk¡­ Patron of L¡¯Neeri of the Een¡¯mokk clan. ¡°Possibly an undiscovered Faen species? Could it be a special evolution or just a deiticly localized type?¡± the man whispers to himself as you glance around at the white plane. The air feels unnaturally still, with no draft or wind to speak of. It somehow feels both warm and cool at the same time, comfortable, yet uncanny. What¡¯s even more uncanny is how quiet it is. The sound of both Sero¡¯s and your breathing is relatively audible, with yours being the greater of the two. His breathing is so quiet and slow you can barely hear it. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°Namanari will want to know about this, not to mention Thine and the rest of the Archavaka¡­This could be the breakthrough we¡¯ve been looking for in terms of Allegorical Constructs¡­ Nova,¡± He says, breaking your trance, ¡°You will need to tell me more about this Patron of yours, I have a feeling this could be a big discovery.¡± ¡°I¨Cuh, yes? I will.¡± ¡°Thank you, Thine will send her regards, I¡¯m sure of it.¡± He nods at you quickly, before continuing wryly, ¡°She¡¯ll probably give you a Cobalt mine as well, knowing her and how she loves that stupid rock.¡± ¡°What is this place?¡± you ask, turning around to look at the distant white horizon. ¡°This,¡± he begins, walking up behind you, ¡°is Travelspace. We don¡¯t know what it is completely, but we use it. A lot.¡± ¡°...How? Why?¡± You stoop to touch the ground, your fingers brushing the smooth, snowy surface. It feels strangely like your Token, with its smooth ridges of stone. ¡°It connects everywhere and everything, functioning like a map. Every star and its planets are contained here, accessed by things called Bind Points.¡± Sero waves his hand out in front of him, stopping with his arm outstretched. Where his finger meets air a little spot of color appears. ¡°My Patron did that¡­¡± You say, eyes fixed upon the little speck of blue, green, orange, every color all at once. ¡°Aarkiel can make Bind Points?¡± He seems rather taken aback by this. ¡°Y-yeah? I think. I¡¯ve only ever seen Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul do it. Once, at that.¡± Sero blinks and shakes his head, his eyes widening like this changed so many things for him. ¡°Wait here,¡± He says, his eyes looking to the distant white horizon, ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a moment.¡± He turns as if to walk away, a hand to his temple. He takes a single step, vanishing suddenly with a flickering sound, the wings of an insect fluttering upon the still, white air. One instant he was here, the next he was nowhere to be seen. You jump back reflexively, eyes wide and looking. You whip your head around, looking for the disappeared man. A sense of deja vu strikes you as narrow your eyes at the place where he disappeared. This Flickering feels so, familiar. An inexplainable feeling, why does this place and this action feel so intimate, even? A hand of yours extends to meet the air before you. Leaning forward unconsciously, you notice something; a faint, wind-like feeling. A phantom breeze or a slight draft caresses the tips of your fingers. It flows over you, as faint as faint can be, almost playfully. Travelspace is curious. It desires to Know, to understand. And most of all, it is everywhere. In that pale cubby of your mind where a chain and a circle reside hums within you. Your Tokens respond to the child-like exploration curiously. Like friends meeting after a long time away. A cautious step forward. An indefinite memory. There. You suddenly snap your hand back, fingers clenching into a chocolate claw. This white plane responds, wind rushing and howling to heed a silent, confused command. The ground before you folds. It collapses inward, imploding downward explosively to create a mammoth chasm. The sheer might of this hole astounds you. It falls forever, an inescapable pit of white hell. This torrential pit of nothingness before you exists only for a terrifying instant, an instant quickly replaced by flashing, flickering movement. The other side of the pit suddenly rushes at you. It closes the gap before your heart can beat or your eyes can blink with a quiet, almost imperceptible flickering sound. A stuttering, stunned breath forces its way into your lungs, eyes wide and body stuck. Sero stands across the now undetectable gap where the floor had rushed toward you, his face a strange mixture of confused surprise, scared fight-or-flight, and that dark, alien man who showed his looming, resentful face back at home. Around this unfamiliar, scared man stands a multitude of bizarre, uncanny creatures. They, of all shapes and colors, loom around his usually tall, anomalous form like awaiting soldiers, freakish monsters. One is tall and spindly, standing atop pronged, inverted legs like those of an insect plastered onto the body of a massive bug, its long human arms dragging across the floor. Some are short and stocky, some human, and others robotic in visage, their metal internals showing. One particularly eye-drawing figure eerily resembles the man surrounded. It stands motionless, its blank eyes staring past Sero and you as if dead. It is covered head to toe in viscous blood that drips off of its mangled limbs into a spreading puddle at its feet, standing stabbed and pierced by innumerable weapons of every size. ¡°Nova¡­¡± He whispers, eyes wide and demeanor missing the usual cheerfulness. ¡°Nova, you weren¡¯t supposed to see this¨C¡± He begins, shakily, almost ill-like, to lay a hand upon the standing figures. You step backward, horrified at the aberrant scene before you. ¡°Sero¡­¡± You start to say. Every time the shaking man touches a statue, it suddenly disappears with a faint, blueish-green light. They flow into him and he drinks them up, somehow disgusted and happy at the same time. ¡°How have you¡­ I never taught you¡­¡± He starts each sentence uncertainly, each word a struggle of the tongue. He suddenly embraces one particular statue, a woman dressed in flowing, navy, and purple robes, her eyes blindfolded by a blue mask whose surface is dotted with white stars. Sero¡¯s face is a mixture of holding back tears and joyous relief as he hugs her, only for him to absorb her. He stumbles forward, hand resting on a tall man made of unbroken white material. ¡°How have you flickered?¡± his voice a dark yet friendly, curious tone. ¡°I¨C I don¡¯t know! It just¡­¡± ¡°You have unlocked Travelspace, Nova. The chasm before you is¨C ah!¡± he shouts as if in pain, the bloodied version of himself flowing into him. You rush to his side, supporting his limp body as it falters. You gather him into your arms, as comforting as you can, so, so confused. He breathes heavily in your arms, pitiful and weak. ¡°I need to go home.¡± He whispers in an almost silent resolution. The rest of the statues disappear and flow into him, finally. You lift his body, arm over your shoulder. You don¡¯t quite understand why you do this, the right thing to do? The two of you begin walking, you don¡¯t know where you are, but you will get home. You know it. 43. A Bloody, White Night You lift his body up, arm over your shoulder. You don¡¯t quite understand why you do this, the right thing to do? The two of you begin walking, you don¡¯t know where you are, but you will get home. You know it. ¡°I¡¯m going to take us back to the Festival of the Sun.¡± You say to him with a soft voice. He lifts a shaking hand, pointing in a seemingly arbitrary direction. ¡°That way.¡± His voice is rasping and sickly, his body shaking against you. You raise your unoccupied hand to the horizon without thinking. ¡°No!¡± the fitful man suddenly shouts, his body then racked by dry coughing. ¡°Do not flicker. My body cannot handle it in my current state. Manifesting all of my Memory Constructs sapped what little Allegory I had left.¡± ¡°How long will it take to get back there? How much time do you have?¡± You ask plodding one step after the next, Sero¡¯s body dead weight upon your side. He gets a foot under himself. A desperate, anxious, scared gesture. ¡°I need¡­ Food, Allegory, anything¡­ Travelspace¡ª¡± The man in your arms suddenly coughs violently. It is wet, blood and spittle flying from his mouth onto the pristine floor. ¡°It will kill me! I have no more!¡± Your eyes widen, the predicament setting in. You don¡¯t have enough time to take him back to the Festival. ¡°Can you make a Bind Point, like you did before?¡± You set him down on the ground, his knees folded below him. Your voice wavers slightly, unsure of the best course of action. ¡°I need Allegory¨C¡± Another cough, blood, and spit fly like insects of the swarm. ¡°I need more to make a Bind Point¡­ It¡¯s killing me! How could you?!¡± His manner is deteriorating, his eyes wild from either pain or fear, possibly both. He looks around frantically, his gaze wide and terrified. His previously silent and nearly non-existent breathing suddenly fast and primally loud. You dislodge yourself, searching for possible solutions. You feel strangely calm past your worry for this man in this unfamiliar world. A solution presents itself: Leave him here, find what Sero needs to not die, fly back, and save him. ¡°Uh, Sero,¡± You begin, setting him down and looking around at the barren, white world surrounding you, ¡°I¡¯m going to go and get you, you said food? Right? Why do you need food? This isn¡¯t how starving works is it?¡± ¡°I need food! I can replenish my Allegory with it¨C Go!¡± He yells, throat raw. He brandishes a hand from the ground like a duster to remove you. Suddenly, you feel as if a strong wind, warm and rushing, blisters over you. It pushes you away slightly as you say urgently, ¡°How do I leave?!¡± ¡°Stable Bind Point¡­ that way!¡± He points and promptly collapses on the ground with a thud. You look back at the prone man groaning on the ground as you turn and run. ¡°Why do you turn against me, my friend¨C?¡± You hear from him, diminishing to silence in the emptiness of Travelspace, filled with the slap of your feet on the ground. You leap, activating both Tokens automatically, instinctually lifting your feet and legs to be in front of yourself as that strange mixture of First Tensor and Rising Star envelops your horizontal form. You blast out over the barrenness, the smooth, white landscape flying behind you as you leave Sero behind. Your swiftness carries you across featureless terrain, such immense stretches of unvarying, unbroken land! No wind passes over your ears, no sky to familiarly roar. Suddenly, without thinking, you deactivate Rising Star, hand clenching before you. The great, terrible chasm appears beneath you again, lasting for its horrible instant. You fall over the gap as it seals, the quiet flicker whispering to you the outcome of failure. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. You flicker more, flashing into Rising Star in between for more speed. You don¡¯t know how long it takes, too long perhaps, you don¡¯t know. But finally, after an agonizing flight of unfamiliar calm and familiar anxiety, you spot an irregularity. You touch down smoothly at a run, eyes locked upon a spot of color that hovers above the snowy ground. Below the Bind Point, whose size is significantly larger than the ones Sero and Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul had summoned, ripples appear to rise from below it and travel outward. Like ripples on the surface of a still pool, they run from the floating orb of color that shifts every instant, people from a fire. You try to ignore them as they stab at your feet as you cross to the Bind Point, your hand closing on the small orb of light. *** Heat, unbearable, searing heat assaults you from all sides. Everything is on fire! Your skin, eyes, mouth, body. Everything burns! You scream as the pain burrows itself into you, searing your very being. Your mind screams to be away, and you fall upward. The light illuminates this place without sight, this place of burning pain. It illuminates nothing but the pale, innumerable contours of a mass of steam. Everywhere you turn as you ascend, steam is ever present, rising and dancing with your seared, golden form. The temperature that felt unbearable slowly became calmer, drifting from burning to very warm. The steam around you slowly begins to dwindle, vapors condensing in the lower heat into infinite, warm raindrops that fall against your ascension. You push yourself upward, your golden chest heaving as your tender skin is soothed by the rain. Your light illuminates dark clouds ahead, lukewarm masses of steam rain that churn and swirl on their jet currents. You pass through them at speed, rushing upward from whatever place this is. The clouds break into a void. Dim light, almost imperceptible, streams around you, filling this empty abyss with some semblance of reality. The clouds below, black as pitch, roil as the floor to an infinite room of blackness around you. Overhead, so far away, is a net of something, twisting and turning around the source of light like a poorly made net. The net casts shafts of dimly crimson and white light from above, creating an unearthly illusion, a beautifully otherworldly space. You rise faster, your golden form glowing brighter as you accelerate, casting out scintillating rays of gold. The net above grows too slowly, how far away! You activate First Tensor, golden form shifting shade to a strange, purple-grey that shines like boiling water. Your form bubbles, rumbling with purple light wreathed in luminescent grey, masses that boil off and fade in the growing, dim light. Your speed increases. ¡°Hang in there Sero¡­¡± Your voice is distorted, rippling, and rumbling; alien. As you draw nearer and nearer to the net, you notice something. It looks like roots. You are under the underworld. The thought stabs itself into you just before you pass them. You blast through the web of roots, rocketing upward toward the cloud layer. It comes up fast, nearing ever closer. Your tail extends downward from the abyss that held you, weaving through the titanic roots of the Trees. Breaking through the wet barrier that is the cloud layer, you rise in force into a crimson night. Bright and shining, hanging everpresent above an empty world, Eirii fills the world alone with her blood-red light from the heavens. Your eyes widen, the implications of the moons¡¯ positions revealing themselves to you as you blast southward, toward the Festival of The Sun. Singly Eirii says it is going to be a bloody night. The air rushes, finally a familiar feeling. You carefully relish in the assaulting sky, the assaulting, ruby sky. You pass Tree after Tree, guided by blind adrenalin and a vague idea of what the Festival¡¯s Tree looks like. You search each tree at a distance, never sparing a moment too long on each Tree, your flight appearing to rebound off each Tree like a ball thrown against a wall. Your aberrant search deems itself fruitful, as you suddenly spot the oddly ball-like canopy of the Tree that holds the Festival. You rocket toward it, shooting through the outer net of leaves with force. You weave your way through the surprised, dwindling crowds searching every empty platter for anything edible. Releasing Rising Star and First Tensor, you gather fruit, mushrooms, and even a skewer of charred meat into your surprisingly grey and purple-skinned arms. Your entire left side appears to be burned, almost, sporting your flight¡¯s aberrant coloring in fading blotches and slashes across your skin. They seem to melt, almost, fading at a rapid rate. So you deem them unimportant. You don¡¯t feel any different, so nothing is wrong! You shove one last bell-shaped fruit whose blue and yellow body is almost the size of your fist into your teeth for safekeeping before pulling your haul up close to you. You spin, only to come face to face with a glowing orange sphere floating above a flaming hand, your nose mere inches from the burning orb. You freeze, unable to think clearly. ¡°Go, my child. Save the Forerunner.¡± L¡¯Oos¡¯s almost motherly voice speaks, breaking the ochre spell. ¡°...Why do you help me? Why do you help Sero?¡± You ask, the fruit dropping from your mouth as your patron¡¯s voice comes back to you. ¡°Nova, honor our agreement, we must catch him.¡± He had said. ¡°Kill him.¡± It felt like now, for some inexplicable reason. ¡°Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul is a wild card, his reckless Aarkiel ambitions and my own plans do not match up. He moves now, you do not have much time, Nova.¡± L¡¯Oos says calmly. ¡°Go, the outsider is of more use to us alive than dead.¡± 44. It Waits Patiently, Forever ¡°Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul is a wild card, his reckless Aarkiel ambitions and my plans do not match up. He moves now, you do not have much time, Nova.¡± L¡¯Oos says calmly. ¡°Go, the outsider is of more use to us alive than dead.¡± You hesitate, before pulling backward with your haul. L¡¯Oos cocks her burning head, puzzled. She pulls her arm away slowly, drawing the orb with her, ¡°Why do you pull away, child?¡± The orb floats above her shimmering palm, glowing like the sun its master embodies. ¡°Let me save him myself.¡± You say, unsure even of yourself. Why do you deny your goddess¡¯s bind point? ¡°Darling, we are one person. The Reawakening is approaching, we need this Forerunner for what we will release from this miserable planet that I have created.¡± Her voice rings into the red night before she leans forward, pushing the glowing orange orb into your chest. *** The Aarkiel Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul awakens from his slumber atop his throne made of his own body. When he was born from the primordial soup of the planet¡¯s Allegory, it had been his first prerogative, as dictated by his pride, to construct something to embody himself and his grandeur. The throne had taken years to finish growing, years of him sleeping within it, and it stood as a symbol of his power and renown. The others feared him as L¡¯Oos¡¯s chosen, they knelt before him, and some even groveled in his presence, but those days had passed. He used to be a ruler, a conqueror, an Aarkiel to be feared like Sa¡¯Bel himself. But now, the throne stands as a testament to a bygone era, an era of blindness. That all had changed when he met her. She was a young girl, sacrificed to him as an offering for good rains. She had been cast over the side, without remorse, to die in the void or at his hands. For some reason, that day, the Aarkiel Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul, the scourge of the Eastern Titan Clusters, felt pity. Pity for a human! How stupid of him. He had everything he could have wanted in his infinite life, but he wanted her for himself. And so he took her. He summoned her from her screaming descent into Death¡¯s Domain into his own. And yet, she did not fear him. She feared death, but not its equivalent. How strange, he had thought as she wiped her tear-streaked face with her hands, standing adamantly towards him and his twisting throne. He, strangely, spoke with a voice unknown to him. A soft, comforting one. He offered another chance at life, and in exchange, he would have her. She accepted. The bands traveled up her arm as the Aarkiel reflected to himself. Why was he doing this? Why this sudden change of heart? The answers scared him, the unshakable Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul, scared. And so he threw them away. Embracing his first Branded One with some alien tenderness. He felt something new that day. He felt like a father. He loved little Jui¡¯La like a parent loves their child, he was now giving out the love L¡¯Oos had shown him first. He loved it. Jui¡¯La was his treasure, his whole infinite life. He buried the questions of why he felt this way and burned the world for her. Hundreds of Aarkiel and thousands of humans died at his hands, all for his daughter and only Branded One. She and his mother L¡¯Oos were the only two in the universe who loved him, Jui¡¯La most of all. She saw past his grotesqueness and past the fear that the others saw him with, she treated him like a human, and that was the world to him. Why? Buried, he didn¡¯t want to know, didn¡¯t need to know. He never dug them up again. Until she died. He had given her more power, the power to destroy her enemies, sent after her by enemy Aarkiel attempting to dethrone him. That power killed her. He killed her. And that killed him. The Great Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul was killed by his hand. He raged against himself, how could he have done this?! He killed her! It took years of blind slaughter for him to finally live down the incredible burning that had been created as he held her body in his albino hands, it took single-handily reducing the population of Aarkiel by a fifth for him to finally come to himself. He hated himself, so, so much. And so he slept. He went and slept for ages. Years and years passed as his name and influence faded from Xulaa. He didn¡¯t care anymore, his world had died, and he might as well. He slept for what seemed eons, alone and afraid until he woke up to nothing. All had forgotten him, and he saw that as good. He searched himself atop his false throne of bone and flesh, dredging up secrets best left to die. Why had he loved her so? He scoured the infinity for answers, consuming himself again with lonely fervor. He had no other purpose besides answers. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. He searched himself to the most minute details, searching his very soul for solace. That¡¯s when he found her again. Julia¡¯s name was etched into his soul as if it was his own. This confounded the Aarkiel, what had transpired that day? He searched and searched and came up empty-handed, it was as though Jui¡¯La had been him. Her soul and his had been seamlessly grafted into one another, her living on through him. This breathed new life into the Aarkiel, he would be her vessel for all eternity. Yes, he would do that. And so he was born anew, not a conquering monster but a careful and ambitious scholar. And he was content with himself. He searched the world¡¯s very essence for answers. He went to his mother, whom he had not seen since his birth, and managed to steal a glance at her soul. He looked only a moment, a moment for later review. That was when the burning began anew. Sun Goddess L¡¯Oos, the progenitor of all he knew, was the same as him. Again the burning, again the consumption of himself, why!? Why were they the same!? But this fire was different from the self-hatred of losing Jui¡¯La, it was bearable. It was what drove him into you. You were so much like Jui¡¯La, he had to take a look. Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul gets up from his throne and crosses to the invisible boundary of his domain, a barrier made of lengthened space created by his desire for loneliness. As he draws nearer, the residual pull of the barrier grasps at his snow-white skin curiously, like it was experiencing something for the first time. He raises a hand to it, resting it on the imaginary space that he created. He had been given orders, to keep an eye on the intruder, but those felt inadequate, now. Sero had caused too much disruption and stress for his mother. He was simply too dangerous to be kept alive. ¡°I will kill the intruder, finish what I failed to do.¡± He says with his grating voice, a voice he hadn¡¯t used in so long. He presses the hand inward and disables the barrier. He steps out into Travelspace, and towards the signature of the Forerunner. *** You appear suddenly back in Travelspace, the white plane surrounding you like the pressure of what you still need to accomplish. You look around, eyes landing on a morbid scene. Sero lays motionless, facedown, in a pool of scarlet, his hair a depressing shade of grey instead of the usual black. You rush over to him, dropping a few things from your haul along the way. You splash through his blood and over to him, haltingly kneeling in the fluid. His eyes are open and blank and his body is completely unmarred by wounds. Your brain reels as you try to think of where all of the blood came from. Unsure of what to do, you lift his body onto your knees and begin to break off parts of your gathered food and cram them into his mouth. He surprisingly begins to move, slightly, weakly attempting to swallow. You breathe a short sigh of relief as some color returns to his skin and hair like ink soaking into paper. You get him onto his knees, such that you don¡¯t have to be sitting in his blood. You grimace and gag slightly as you feel your hands squish the liquid out of his already crimson vest like a sponge. Your eyes widen as you find one hand of his is missing a finger, blood dripping from the gory stump. Eyes still blank, body limp, head lolling to the sky, he begins to methodically chew the fruit. It takes an agonizing amount of time for Sero to wake up. To his eyes the cyan glow that you remember slowly, painfully so, returns. The blood around your feet suddenly begins to shiver, almost rippling backward towards the kneeling man. You back up as the white, circular symbol glowing on his vested chest suddenly begins to spin. The Rhodos begins slowly, like a water wheel, and quickly speeds up, spinning with ever-swifter revolutions. The blood around you, on you, in your clothes, seems to be pulled to Sero. Then, suddenly, time seems to reverse. The blood begins to flow backward, up from the pool, and into Sero¡¯s mouth. A reverse fountain of red. You stumble back as the blood on your hands and in your clothes is sucked off of you and into his open mouth. Your eyes widen at the grotesque sight, but you cannot look away. Finally, once the blood is extinguished, Sero wakes up. He falls limply to his side, shivering, coughing, and nursing his one-finger-less hand. You go to him, offering another piece of a pear-like fruit. He weakly chuckles and takes it. You look around, unable to say much. ¡°...What¡­¡± ¡°The Rhodos can heal me using Allegory,¡± he coughs weakly, ¡°and I can make more Allegory using consumed matter. I haven¡¯t-¡± Another cough, ¡°eaten anything substantial in several weeks, so my Allegory has been dangerously low.¡± He says quietly before placing the piece into his mouth and chewing. ¡°Why haven¡¯t you eaten?¡± you ask, sitting down and offering a new fruit. He takes it, saying, ¡°I don¡¯t need to eat very often as the Rhodos sustains me,¡± a light cough echos around you, ¡°Maybe once or twice a month if I¡¯m not fighting or doing anything Allegorically Intensive, which I usually do these days.¡± He takes another piece and places it firmly into his mouth like he is afraid it is going somewhere. ¡°I had assumed that you Xulaains don¡¯t grow excess, more than you need to preserve space, so I never asked. I would need to eat an astounding amount, of one hapless Tree''s food supply, to be full.¡± He says around the food, ¡°Yes, I ate at the Festival of the Sun, but it wasn¡¯t enough to sustain my usage habits. I could have hunted some of the root wildlife, but it slipped my mind as I usually never hunt for food.¡± He takes another piece, saying quietly around the food, ¡°I am a stupid, rich, spoiled idiot¡­¡± He lets his face fall into his uninjured hand. The two of you sit in silence, eating from your pile. After a little bit, he raises his head and injured hand, and the two of you watch as the finger grows back like a mushroom sprouting from a carcass. The new finger appears quickly, growing like a plant on overdrive. ¡°What did you do?¡± you ask, unable to not know. ¡°I ate it to stay above the surface for the last few minutes,¡± he responds, shivering slightly as he inspects the new one, clenching his hand into a fist. ¡°I hate it, but I had to.¡± Sero doesn¡¯t look good, he seems tired, so, so tired. L¡¯Oos¡¯s voice rings in your head as you eat slowly, ¡°Darling, we are one person.¡± Her words scare you. The void sleeps around you, as Sero eats his fill, and as a sinking feeling settles in your stomach. 45. Cross the Nuclear Star The void sleeps around you, as Sero eats his fill, and as a sinking feeling settles in your stomach. Something was wrong. ¡°We need to move. Now.¡± You say, getting up from the floor. You glance at your hand, one blotch of greyish purple hasn¡¯t faded from your skin, the area around it still tenderly red from the burns. Sero turns from the horizon, clearly a little confused. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? I don¡¯t sense anything.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ Something is off, I don¡¯t like it.¡± The duality of temperature that exists only in this place chills you, sending a shiver up your spine. ¡°Something is coming.¡± Sero looks skeptical, narrowing his eyes first at you and then at the distant, white horizon, but then, he places one last piece of food into his mouth and begins to get up. You proffer a hand to him, which he grasps firmly and pulls himself up. He stumbles as he gets his feet under him, falling onto your shoulder. You support him, steadying him. ¡°You know what?¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± he stands up more, only using you for support occasionally as you two walk. He quickly seems to become more and more lively, ¡°What is it, Nova? Travelspace can be so lonely, it is good to have a companion like-¡± ¡°You talk too much.¡± The words come out without too much humor, but Sero laughs anyway. He looks more normal as he says, ¡°Maybe I do¡­¡± *** Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul walks, he does not run, or Flicker, he walks. He does not need speed, for he knows that his quarry cannot escape him. And so he walks with a leisurely gait, mind going back to what he saw happen when his comrade failed to stop Sero. Surely he was more powerful than the Allmother, he thinks to himself as he walks, he had bested her on a few occasions about territorial disputes, but the gap between them had never been of great magnitude. ¡°I will be able to do this. L¡¯Oos wouldn¡¯t have given me this task if I could not complete it.¡± The Aarkiel says to himself, his voice traveling across the expanse. He is getting closer. Excitement, eager, primal excitement strikes itself aflame inside of the Aarkiel, he begins his pace anew, pushing and pulling himself closer and closer to his target. He reaches out as if to grasp the expanse and pull it closer. The ground begins to slope upward, a small, white hill pushing its way toward the canvas heavens. He climbs over its height effortlessly, the world and way made easy for him in anticipation. Down into the flat wastes again, the almost fog-shrouded distance revealing itself to the Aarkiel. A hand extends, caving the ground ahead, and Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul flickers ever closer. His eyeless grin grows. *** By now Sero is mostly back to normal, you can no longer hear his breathing, he walks easily, only stumbling very occasionally, and he flickers for you. The chasms before you seem small and puny compared to the ones you had previously experienced, Sero conserving his strength. You had offered to flicker, but he vehemently forced you not to, saying, ¡°I know my limits, I don¡¯t want you to accidentally hurt me,¡± with a cautious look at his hand and then the horizon. You walk for ages, time feels so off here, with no warm sun on your skin, you feel weak, naked almost. You find yourself consistently looking over your shoulder, the feeling of paranoia never quite fading. Occasionally, you hear Sero whispering to himself. ¡°I hate not being able to Compress, so much wasted time¡­¡± His sudden quiet statement breaks your concentration on the ball of light. It fades into golden dust and you give a silent sigh of annoyance as you glance at him. He walks quickly, but slower than you remember. Was he slowing down for you? Another orb manifests itself before you, its pentagonal ridges flowing like waves along its surface. You grab it like a fruit throwing it up and away from you. It falls back into your hands silently, and you dismiss it with a shrug. ¡°How much longer?¡± you ask, your voice loud in your ears. ¡°Soon, I hope. He suddenly stops, eyes cloudy, distant, and rings spinning. ¡°Yes, a few more uru.¡± He begins walking again. You raise an eyebrow and look over your shoulder, following him, eager to be out of this place and under the light of L¡¯Oos again. *** Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul runs. He shiveringly lopes across the white at speed, unable to contain himself. He hadn¡¯t run in hundreds of years! Oh, how good it feels. He runs like a human who only recently learned to walk, gracefully stumbling and staggering around, twitching and shivering in a way that mimics running. His imitation is frighteningly fast, carrying him faster than any normal human could do the same. The signature of Sero was drawing ever nearer, he was so, so close now. That sent spikes of fearful excitement through his very soul. Why does he feel this way? He doesn¡¯t know, another question to ponder over. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The Aarkiel suddenly slows to a walk. ¡°He is here.¡± He whispers to himself, his fingers twitching anxiously. Another signature makes itself obvious to him, previously masked by the outsider¡¯s unusually powerful sign. Nova. ¡°Why would¨C? No matter, she will not interfere.¡± He steps into the metaphorical light, and toward a safer dawn. *** ¡°Come on, Nova, we are almost there!¡± Sero urges, waving you closer. Your paranoia has seemed to parasitically spread to him, the skin around his eyes taut with worry. You scamper closer, squatting next to him as he does the same. ¡°I need to open a bind point. This will be taxing, so I need you to be ready to save me.¡± You hold up an uneaten fruit, one that you stuffed into your pocket. He nods. ¡°I¡¯m going to go slow, so I might be able to stop before¨C¡± His head snaps to your left, eyes wide and scared. You hear him breathe in sharply, and time seems to slow down. You look, painfully, agonizingly slowly, fearful of what you will find. Your Patron, Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul, stands upright a little ways away. He looks at the two of you with that terrible, eyeless stare, his mouth a perpetual grin. He spreads his bone-white, slender arms like the wings of a bird, hands clawed and grasping. Those hands reach to his sides, crossing over one another, grasping at two inky pustules there. Like a gardener resolutely pulling weeds from his garden, he pulls a pair of arms, black as the night, from his torso. Like some horrible insect, these new arms extend to their full length, the wings of death. He reaches up over his head, pulling a fifth, midnight arm from the small of his back. Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul stands before you, whole again. His arms fan out above him like the petals of some noir flower, fists clenching powerfully despite his apparent malnourishment. ¡°I have waited long enough, Outsider. Today, you meet your reckoning.¡± His voice echoes across the white expanse of Travelspace. The Aarkiel before you rolls his joints, creating an eerie symphony of cracks and pops. He suddenly punches with one black hand, launching a splashing, sable spear of liquid at Sero. It passes within a few inches of your face, and a drop of black flicks onto your cheek. Sero¡¯s hands flash, deflecting the spear past his shoulder, where it drops into a pool of the night. ¡°I meant and mean this world no harm! I will not fight you, this whole ordeal is beyond your understanding, Faen!¡± Sero yells back at him, rising from his knees to one foot. His hands are clenched into pale claws beside him. ¡°What is the meaning of this, Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul?! Why are you here?!¡± You ask, rising yourself to your feet. ¡°Stay out of this Nova! This quarrel does not concern you!¡± Your patron shouts, waving one of his true hands almost dismissively. You feel a weight suddenly begin to push you away, an incredible wind but with no movement or chill. You stumble at first but quickly regain your footing, leaning against it like the wall that it is. ¡°I will not fight you, Faen! Cease this madness and withdraw!¡± Sero says, almost pleadingly, his hands relaxing a little. But your patron seems undeterred. ¡°I will free this world from the scourge of the outside! For it is what L¡¯Oos has commanded me to do!¡± The Aarkiel bellows, stepping forward with malice. Sero suddenly flies toward your patron as if picked up by a giant, invisible hand. Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul¡¯s fist impacts Sero¡¯s torso with so much force that rings of the sky appear from Sero¡¯s back with an audible boom. All you can do is watch, your voice taken away, as a mass of Sero¡¯s blood flies from his open, pained mouth. He is launched backward, only to be ¡°grabbed¡± again, flying back towards the Aarkiel¡¯s waiting hands. He snags the man from the air, slamming him into the ground which shatters from the force like hammered glass. Your patron starts savagely hammering the son of Eun with punches that might have felled the gods for all you know, each landing with so much force that the world seems to shy away. He punches, then grabs him with two of his unused hands, and punches him again, over and over again. But then, Sero suddenly gets his feet under him. He stands up and begins to endure the onslaught. Your Patron appears surprised that the man is still alive, redoubling his efforts. Sero blocks and dodges, spinning around as his adversary begins to Flicker, disappearing and appearing around him, looking for an opening. The alien man only defends, seldom counter-attacking, with such speed and power! The Aarkiel continues attacking savagely, swinging his five arms wildly with no regard for his safety, trying to open Sero up. He beats on, his hands becoming a black-and-white blur as they impact ruthlessly into Sero¡¯s weakening defenses. He stumbles, rocked back and forth by the titanic attacks that crack and boom in the silence. You fruitlessly strain against your invisible bonds, struggling to free yourself and put an end to this madness before someone gets seriously hurt. As you strain, Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul seems to make one final effort, landing a blow that sends Sero flying. The man tumbles through the air, head over heels, without a sound, landing in a sliding crouch. ¡°Sero!¡± You yell, the first words springing from your mouth as your bare feet slip on the smooth ground of Travelspace. ¡°Stay out of this, Nova! This isn¡¯t your battle!¡± Sero¡¯s eyes flick to his enemy, who stands impassively where he is. The Aarkiel¡¯s brow is furrowed and he seems to inspect his five, white and black hands as if puzzled. ¡°The faen doesn¡¯t want to let up, so I won¡¯t either.¡± A hand wipes the side of his mouth, and he seems to briefly concentrate. ¡°What are you doing?¡± You ask, anxiety welling up in you as you feel the shadow of Sa¡¯Bel looming. ¡°Just use your imagination.¡± His voice is eerily certain, the cheeriness gone like that dark man you have seen before. He doesn¡¯t even seem to be talking to you, but instead to a person only seen by him. There. A step, then another, and another. Sero¡¯s entire body tenses, blasting toward Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul in a full-tilt run. Left then right, he crosses the distance at speed. The Aarkiel barely has time to look up before Sero swarms over him, like maggots over rotten fruit. Sero seems to split, hundreds of himself wash over your patron, a spherical cage of infinite blows. And while it only lasts an instant, Sero taking again only one body before him, Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul roars. A primal, bestial sound of genuine pain erupts from his mouth. He steps forward, his whole upper body twisting, rotating at his hips like a propeller, swinging his five arms in vast, lightning-fast swaths of air. Sero steps back, almost casually avoiding the blind counterattack. Sidestepping the next handful of heaven-shattering punches as the Aarkiel tries to retaliate. A step to the side, backward, suddenly Sero rushes forward again, this time kicking the Aarkiel straight in the abdomen. He Flickers around the Aarkiel, landing more calculated blows across his body. Another Flicker brings him before the pained Aarkiel, and with a speed unseen before, he grabs a hold of Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul¡¯s neck, lifting him in a powerful leap before slamming him into the pristine, white ground with an incredible thud. The ground cracks below him as your patron bounces off the ground, landing in a crouch. There is suddenly silence again across the expanse. The Aarkiel and the alien man stare at each other, a look of mutual respect. As they stare, you are suddenly let free from your invisible bonds with a soft yelp. You now stand between two titans, capable of things undreamable by your human mind. Not a Chapter - Patreon Update I know I haven''t anything to show for, but things are in the works. If you would be so kind, supporting me through Patreon is a great and inexpensive way to keep this stuff moving forward! I hope all of you wonderful, wonderful readers and contributors will at least consider. As for what is happening, I have had to lock in for school majorly and have been heavily procrastinating on Xulaa by writing my short story projects, one of which now has beta readers! Expect something of merit/substance by the end of the month, and I congratulate all who have stuck with us this far, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Good luck, Celestial Travelers! A Sneak Peak Rahhn the Flutist clawed his broken and sore body from his best and only friend''s bronze-metal chest cavity. Rahhn¡¯s tiny body ached terribly. He could barely distinguish his aches from the searing, phantom pain. The residual buzz and creeping soreness of working in tandem with her as he crawled away from the wreckage of his friend. His hands and knees sank into the muddy earth with unsatisfying squelches, the mud staining his previously decent attire. Every time the man breathed, a thorny, searing spike of red-hot anguish shot through his upper abdomen, causing him to wince and gasp pathetically. Somehow, through the pain, the buzzing, and the dizziness, he thought: I broke most of my ribs, I need medical attention immediately, I¨C ¡°Wait,¡± the small man started, his mind cloudy and his vision swimming. ¡°Wait, wait, F¨CFulcra!¡± He began to scramble back to his friend frantically. Fulcra the Construct lay face up in the black mud, her bronze, oddly human-looking skin leaking golden light from various large cracks beneath her tattered clothes. Underneath, the delicate seams of her nearly invisible plating were larger than they should be. Fulcra¡¯s clockwork eyes were open, the usual golden glow of Allegory and life behind them nowhere to be seen in the setting sun''s light. Her body was mangled and blasted through, her mystical, alien internals showing their metallic sheen. Her left leg twitched like a dead insect, and her machinery clanked roughly. It was something so strange to come from someone who was considered ¡°almost a Perfect Construct¡±. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°Hey!¡± Rahhn shouted at his companion as he slipped and fell in the mud, his wraps and body becoming even more filthy in this Hahs Yrir-forsaken place, ¡°Fulcra! Say something!¡± There came no response. Her machinery whirring quietly and weakly as if giving one last breath of life. ¡°No, no, no, no, no, Fulcra!¡± He finally scrambled over to her motionless body. He grabbed her head in his shaking hands. Her long, brunette hair was caked with grime, the filth covering Rahhn¡¯s hands as he held her. ¡°Not now, Fulcra!¡± He yelled at her as if commanding her to stay with him, his voice cracking and wavering, ¡°You can¡¯t¡­¡± A shaking, wheezing inhalation, ¡°¡­ you can¡¯t die on me¡­ I haven¡¯t fulfilled my promise¡­¡± ¡°We rely on you, now, Rahhn from the stars.¡± They had said that. 46. Stargore There is suddenly silence again across the expanse. The Aarkiel and the alien man stare at each other with a look of mutual respect. As they stare, you are suddenly freed from your invisible bonds with a soft yelp. Falling to the cold, white ground, you stand between two titans, capable of things undreamable by your human mind. You inch away, these displays of such power revolt a part of you. Nothing should have this much destructive ability. ¡°I commend you, Faen. Constructs of greater magnitude than you have not survived strikes similar to those.¡± Sero says, the dark, alien, ancient being speaking from within the man of lightning. The Aarkiel lets out a short gasp, swinging an arm as if he is standing up with the height of the world on his shoulders. ¡°S¨Csurvived?!¡± He hollers, and you blink as he says this. His mouth moved. Against all previous evidence, Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul speaks like a man. ¡°Is that all you have in you, child of the void?!¡± He shakingly stands up, a defiant message of rebellion. ¡°What say you? I am Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul. Scourge of the Northern Titan Clusters. Son of L¡¯Oos, who is God!¡± His hands stretch to the white sky, all five fists clenched in violent abhorrence to the not-man before him, who looks on, cold as the snow of the sky. Five hands come down, grasping full-handedly upon the wood-like horns of the Aarkiel¡¯s head. The creature¡¯s crown, his mark of tyranthood. And like the noir arms that he pulled before, Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul tears them from his head. Silver blood splatters upon the ground, dripping like dew from a gory crown. The creature before you takes them and brandishes it, a weapon of pain and defiance. He holds a staff made of wood, and a spear made of his horns. It glistens, as long as its bearer is tall, arcs and twists of the grain standing out against the purity beyond. So came a whisper. A strong, sure, cold whisper. ¡°And so you will die, Son of the one known as L¡¯Oos.¡± Thus begins a storm. A blinding flash of sky-blue light erupts from Sero as he charges, his hair becoming the same blue that you saw when you first chased him. He rockets silently, resolutely, toward your patron, afterimages the color of the open sky telegraph his past movements, hanging in the air before fading into dust. The Aarkiel throws a black, powerful hand out as if to grasp ahold of you. Flicker. The chasm opens between you and him, and you instantly find yourself standing between these two monstrosities, Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul¡¯s outstretched hand grasping the back of your head, his long, eerie fingers tousling your chestnut brown hair. This next instant suddenly slows to a near stand-still, Sero¡¯s flying fist mere hair-breadths away from your face. You feel yourself breathe in this slowed state of perception, the wind mightily loud in your ears. You feel everything, see all you can, hear the voice of Travelspace watching playfully, feeling your patron¡¯s fear and desperation through his fingers. Fingers that wrap around much of the back of your head. Time resumes, suddenly, ending this strange, co-mingling state of connections. Sero¡¯s arm ends where his fist was not an instant before, and you suddenly feel the Aarkiel behind you recoil from being hit, his grip on your head loosening. Thoughts occur to you as you struggle to comprehend what has just happened. Your patron had just used you as a shield. But another one settles inside yourself, this knowledge given through him holding you, your contact transferring information. Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul has two souls. Exactly like you. Sero flies through you, passing by as if he were a ghost with a flicker, continuing forward to finish what he was locked into. A contest of death. A contest not begun by him, but one that he would finish himself. He slams into the Aarkiel like before, and the two of them trade blazingly fast blows on one another with more riotous and grandiose fervor than ever before. Cylinders of solid light and javelins of spewing ink, Buster Pulses and Spears of God, deathly in their purpose, blast around, annihilating whatever they strike. They careen across the whiteness, their attacks carving up vast chunks of white earth, slabs the size of the branches of the Titan Trees that rise and shatter with great, cacophonous booms. They flash around each other, Black against Blue, Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul backpedaling against his terrifying foe. Flicker. You find yourself amid the battle again. Hanging in the air with the two, suspended far above the white ground of Travelspace, you are once again placed before the oncoming man, a human barricade designed to deter an ally. The tactic initially seems to, again, fail, Sero simply folding space to put his blindingly fast strike behind you, but your Patron is ready. He shoves you to the side, parrying the alien man¡¯s kick with a pale hand, pushing him past his target, as the three of you fly. Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul pulls you along, a sable hand around your shin, dragging your helpless body through the air, backward, falling after the deflected man. ¡°I am sorry, my daughter,¡± the Aarkiel murmurs, slicing a wide swipe at Sero with his horn spear, held with two of his five hands, tearing into the skin and clothing of his back that mend themselves as quickly as they are destroyed, ¡°I do what I must.¡± The white ground rushes up to meet the two, wind whistling in your ears. A sudden, horrible jerk erupts through the world, the rapid deceleration from falling in the direction Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul was facing pulling your body up, bending it backward so it becomes parallel with the white ground. Every muscle in your body strains, desperately trying to keep yourself together. You grit your teeth as your spine pops and cracks, your legs holding onto themselves for dear life. As your head is leveled with the world, you and Sero make eye contact again. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Light envelops you, converting your flesh to golden-ness. Your patron¡¯s grasp loses its hold on your skin with your skin no longer having substance, and you slip out. You recollect a short distance away, the pain still racing through your over-stretched muscles. You look between both titans, who look between the two of you. All of you are at your limit, the Aarkiel is breathing heavily, his usually grinning, toothy mouth hanging open with exertion, his many shoulders heaving up and down. Sero¡¯s violent, blue aura disappears in another flash, this one weaker than its initiation. He blinks multiple times and shakes his head, his breathing is mostly normal for a human. You can hear him whispering, ¡°Not going to be able to re-enter Full Sprint¡­¡± He comes to, grimacing. His fight was over, yet how he did not kill his foe, he does not know. Your head snaps to the Aarkiel, and he looks at you. The place on his blank face where his eyes should have been creases as if he was blinking. Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul raises himself, gazing at his daughter tenderly. ¡°I¡­¡± He settles back, his sable hands placing the spear of himself into his white ones, ¡°... am not worthy.¡± He huffs, taking the spear and holding it in one clenched hand. He sighs so deeply, as if relieving himself of the weight of the sky, and the inky arms dislodge from his sides and back, splashing into the pristine floor, staining it with their murkiness. You look at him, confused. ¡°W-what?¡± You ask, stepping toward him. His heavy breathing slows, calm spreading through his aberrant, wounded body. ¡°You have taught me something, Nova.¡± He grips the spear tightly, ¡°This old, broken man cannot be the one to carry Julia any longer.¡± You breathe in sharply. Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul knows about what Oblivion said to you? ¡°You carry yourself, Nova, and that boy L¡¯Neeri, just as I carry myself and my first daughter. But now, I am broken and unfit. I have slackened in my duties, and forgotten my place. We are all one person, you know that already,¡± He shakes his hornless head again, swallowing and planting his feet in the black puddle below. He begins again, this time in a voice more than just resolute, a voice filled with all the certainty of the universe. ¡°I give you this Soul of mine¡­¡± He brandishes the wooden spear with both hands, its terrible point aimed at its wielder¡¯s gut, ¡°So that we¡­ MAY BECOME WHOLE AGAIN!¡± He roars a final, triumphant roar, plunging his purpose into his heart. ¡°NO!¡± You scream, scrambling forward, hand outstretched, bare feet splashing in the inky pool. Your patron holds the spear protruding from his chest with a limp hand, silver blood pouring out of the wound around the wood. He looks to the horrified Sero, who stands there, utterly confused, but unmoving like the Titan Trees. The Aarkiel scoffs quietly, giving a weak, eyeless, mirthless grin at the man. A good fight, it seemed to say, but don¡¯t think you won. As soon as you make it to him, he collapses, thudding heavily into the stained, wet ground, the spear being driven through his back. You fall on top of him, one hand on the spear. You feel its nobby, ridged texture in your hands, its grip sure on your skin. ¡°Why?!¡± You yell at the dead Aarkiel. You breathe shakily, unsure what the next step is. It comes to you, given by familiar hands. Both yours and a dead man¡¯s. You scowl, resting your hands on Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul¡¯s back, which already feels cold, like the stone of your Token. You know what to do. And, like last time, the floodgates of the soul open. It begins with a warm, satisfied trickle, Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul had accepted that he had served his purpose. He passed on with no regrets. Then, the flow of memoria intensified quickly, growing from a bubbling brook to a roaring tide, an ocean of the eons determined to wash you away. You manage to contain it at first, curling up on your knees, gritting your teeth, and writhing in the puddle of the dead Aarkiel¡¯s ink and blood, his body disappearing suddenly as L¡¯Neeri had, however, it keeps going, harsher, redoubling its efforts. You begin spasming, breath rushing in and out through your teeth. You clasp your hands at your chest and groan, your writhing becoming more violent as the Aarkiel¡¯s memories clamor to be seen, to be known. A growl begins building in your chest as more and more of your patron¡¯s soul is shoved into your own. The growl builds, clawing its way up your throat. Your back arches, and, as your body is thrown back, you scream. A guttural, throat-tearing scream erupts from your mouth. A howl to scar the ages. Arms, black, ink-slathered arms burst from your skin, shooting out of you like cannons in all directions. They clasp and grope at you, grabbing your limbs, your face, and each other, in a clamorous frenzy. Their slick fingers jitter and spasm over your skin, coating it with their wetness. More and more memories, thousands of years worth of Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul flood into you, a torrent unlike any other. It rips you apart. Tearing you asunder with the weight of his actions. You feel his unfettered hatred of himself, you feel his loneliness, his love for his adopted daughters. You and Julia. You feel his pain of killing his brethren, his joy at being praised by his mother. Everything, all at once. You scream more, over and over, as your body contorts again and again, your bones breaking and reforming, growing and reshaping to befit the King of all Aarkiel. You grow, your stature taking on his tall, malnourished, broad, twisted stature. His wooden horns burst from your scalp, jutting up to the white heavens, the six of them. Then, a different stream of self filters through the eons. A small, hapless girl. Sacrificed before her prime, given as a trade for something that never came: Rain. As your body breaks, her Soul enters your broken, scarred one, a Soul barely held together. Hers is calm, like the eye of some terrible storm. It lilts across your shattered mind, a comforting, soothing rain after a scorching blaze. L¡¯Neeri accepts it, embracing it, allowing her to enter calmly into the crumbling temple. The temple devolves into a mass of wriggling arms, interlocking into a net. The eons have subsided, only the memories of the past few hours trickling in, but the torrent has left you nearly annihilated. You stare forward, blankly, eye unfocused. There is no pain, there is barely any sensation, anymore. Your mind is simply too tired to even reel from what happened, and so you stand, a shell filled with more Souls than one has ever had. Your left eye is covered by a stray hand, another clasping its black fingers across your mouth. Arms wave in the air, stemming from every conceivable piece of your open skin. You sway slightly, horned head atop a body you don¡¯t know or understand, white hair, now shoulder length, rippling in some unfelt breeze. Time passes. How long? It could have been centuries, hours, or even no time at all, but then, a voice rang out amidst the silence. Her voice was sonorous, yet airy. It almost felt like what a giant, majestic bird would sound like if they could talk. ¡°Julia.¡± L¡¯Oos, Goddess of the Sun, Freedom, Expression, Self, and many other things, spoke. It was heartfelt, it was bittersweet, it had a depth that one may never understand, backed by lifetimes of waiting for this moment. You look up, single, open eye gazing to the heavens, illuminated by golden, radiant sunlight. A tear, silver, like the blood of the Aarkiel, falls from your eye as you see her. Goddess, Mother, Patron, L¡¯Oos, and your final piece, descends from the white sky. Your many arms reach out, grasping for her sunlight like starved plants awaiting the fall of water from the sky to quench their thirsty cells. She alights, embracing your scarred, broken body marred by inky limbs, whispering in your ear like a proud mother. ¡°Oh, Julia, I truly hate to see what the millennia have done to you¡­¡± Her whispers cause feeling to wash through you, a healing balm to aid a burnt woman/man, ¡°We have waited for this day for so long.¡± The arms, your arms, cease their wriggling, stilling from a living cascade to an alien, bizarre breathing statue of black. L¡¯Oos¡¯s tone shifts, now slightly resentful, ¡°What comes next is inevitable, but both of us will be free.¡± She hugs you tighter, ¡°Come, Julia. Let us take the Universe back, let us be what was stolen from us¡­¡± And with one final, glorious flash of golden light¡­ You are reborn, whole, once again. 47. Somewhere Else You are reborn, whole, once again. The light scintillates, spinning like the gleam of a shooting star, fading to reveal you: Julia, Vanished Heir to the Ioanamana Sect of the Republic of Ielia, standing at the world''s end. A wave, an overpowering wave of relief and joy washes over you, no soul-twisting, breaking transformation, simply, wholeness. A laugh, a soft chuckle bubbles up inside your throat. And exclamation of victory over your prison. You still feel all of them, yourselves, inside you. They are sleeping and dormant leaves that have fallen to rest on the surface of a pool of clear, unbroken water. You let out the deepest, happiest sigh you have ever breathed, looking down at yourself and finding your skin glowing valiantly golden orange from the afterglow of L¡¯Oos¡¯s godhood. You feel tired and wrung, like how one feels after the pain fades from an excruciating wound. Your gaze drifts to Sero, who, throughout your transformation, had stood, eerily still and blank. He seems to have drawn far into himself to escape the horror that was your fusion with Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul. On his bandaged chest, The Rhodos is spinning slowly. You cock your head, your long hair flowing up and behind you like radiant smoke from a fire, adrift in some unfelt wind. Ablaze cinders. You step forward, your first steps whole again in hundreds of years, toward the dormant Forerunner. His back is straight, his expression neutral, and his cyan eyes glow softly, the last vestiges of his latent Allegory flowing through him. Pumped by the artifact in his chest. You want to wake him up, or else he may be here forever. You lift a glowing hand and tap the air in front of his face. You barely have to try to worm your way into his memory constructs, unguarded in this state. Your Allegorical hand finds him curled up inside one such construct, hiding, scared. It barely takes any effort to pull him out. Almost as soon as you start, the man jerks back to life. He breathes heavily through his teeth, his hands go to his head. ¡°It, Igik-ing, saved the memory! I need to get it out¡­!¡± His hands claw at his disheveled hair, trying to draw out the memory, ¡°I¨C¡± You stop him, grabbing one wrist before he can pull it out. ¡°Sero.¡± You say firmly, ¡°Stop. You are strong, you can handle this.¡± You close your eyes and ignite the Chest Path, the Path of Vitality and Courage. Goosebumps erupt across your torso as Allegory rushes through you, molten lava in your soul. It flows from your ignited Path, through your arm, and into the traumatized man. You feel his body drink up the torrent, almost gleefully. The man struggles at first, his breathing fast and violent, hissing in and out rapidly. But slowly, as Allegory is pushed into his soul, he calms, and his hands drop as you let go. He looks at you curiously, and after a long moment of staring, he asks, ¡°...Nova?¡± You inhale, almost unsure because of what happened not a few minutes ago. It takes a moment but you respond: ¡°Yes, but, at the same time¡­ not exactly.¡± Your voice is more like L¡¯Oos¡¯s than Nova¡¯s, much more mature than you remember, but oh, so yours. The man blinks, confused, tired, and scared. His breathing is heavy but slow. You discreetly take a look at his Allegory reserves, just barely igniting the Face Path, the Path of Truth and Lies. Inside the alien man is a dwindling stock, barely a single Path Strike Unit. Just barely enough to resist Travelspace¡¯s magical pressure. Your ignition barely added to that minuscule amount, you notice. ¡°I am, technically, Nova, but I am also L¡¯Neeri, Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul, and L¡¯Oos. I am a lot of people and myself at the same time.¡± As you say their names, these pieces of you seem to resonate within you, glowing like hot irons cooling in deep, blue water. ¡±My true name is Julia Ioanamana.¡± Sero stands up straighter. He swallows slowly before speaking, ¡°Julia¡­¡± He begins, his eyes becoming distant as if recalling a long-lost memory, ¡°Ioanamana¡­ yes¡­ you disappeared, what, three hundred forty-one Collectivixian Standard Years ago?¡± He stumbles a little as he stands up straighter, his voice a soft mumble. His reserves are still not enough to stay afloat. You nod simply, although you didn¡¯t know that was the amount of elapsed time, that was you. Those centuries went by slowly and without marker nor cadence, for L¡¯Oos and Tyrr¡¯olni¡¯nel¡¯mul to keep track of, they might as well have been ten thousand years. A moment passes between the two of you, and you briefly look at yourself. Your Face Path ignites, the goosebumps returning as a mask for your face, as they do for this particular ignition. They are most strong on your dark-skinned cheeks and the back and top of your head, but you feel none around your eyes and nose. This had always confounded you, why not this place when these two senses were two of the most enlightened by this Path? Your Path glows as you use it, a bright, neon white. Inside your Soul, as you gaze with virtual eyes, you come upon an ocean of Allegory, more than you have ever come in contact with in your life. It glows with the light of the sun itself, blinding and radiant, and you physically cringe at its might. ¡°Julia,¡± Sero begins softly, ¡°I¨C I need Allegory.¡± You nod, ¡°I already saw, your reserves are almost depleted.¡± Sero puts a hand on his chest, blinking at your statement. ¡°...I was that vulnerable?¡± He asks softly. You raise a hand, mostly ignoring him, fingers together and to the white sky. Another ignition, this time the Arm Path, the Path of Force and Fervor, taps into your godhood¡¯s seemingly infinite reservoir. You scoop bucketloads of the imaginary, radiant fluid, dumping them all into a small point above your fingers. A stygian orb coelesces, not unlike the sable pustules that marred your previous, Aarkiel form. It floats silently as it gathers its strength, filling to a diameter of about 8 centimeters, it flashes black when you cease channeling into it. It barely made a dent in your reserves, but inside this pearl was enough Allegory to eradicate a Titan Tree. A trove of a thousand PSU. Sero watches impassively as the sphere finishes forming, on his almost gaunt face is an expression that you cannot decipher. You hand the ball of blackness to him without any ritual, which he takes and shoves into his mouth. You wince as he swallows instantly, the Rhodos humming to life in his chest. It spins rapidly for a few moments, almost as if it was digesting the Allegory in the orb. He gasps, his eyes going wide for a moment. The Rhodos slows, and its host lets out a deep, almost pained sigh. The man stands up truly straight for the first time in hours, running his hands through his hair with his previous life and fervor before speaking. His voice is tired in a different manner from a few moments ago. Instead of being physically fatigued, he is more¡­ irritated at his situation. ¡°I¡¯m back.¡± He looks away from you, his lips pursed into a fine line, ¡°I hate how you¡¯ve seen that¡­¡± He pauses, his voice dripping with disgust, ¡°...part of me. That weak, pathetic man who can''t even save his skin.¡± He takes a forceful step, then another, pacing. ¡°These memory constructs are the only thing keeping me sane. Sometimes they slip and I become the Wretch. Sometimes I need to recall them all to refresh them. No matter what I do, these lifetimes of memories are killing me, and I need Allegory to stay above the surface. I need it to keep the cascade contained.¡± You watch and listen, you¡¯ve gotten good at that, having to wait all these years, so you let him spill his pain. He pulls at his hair absently, looking up at the infinite white sky. ¡°Oh, I hate how good it feels to be myself again.¡± He turns to you, solemnly taking in your radiant form, ¡°...So, tell me, Julia. I have most of the missing points in this whole story, but I think you will know better than anyone.¡± That is interesting. You draw closer, nodding. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°I can assist.¡± You comment, the past opening up to you. With a wave of your hand, you effortlessly Tunnel back to the real world, pulling you and Sero through a new Bind Point. Sunlight, warm and natural, bathes the two of you with its brilliant, newborn light of the sunrise. Xulaa is alive, and so are you. It feels like ages since you have felt living wood under your feet and the flitting wind in your hair. Travelspace was both beautiful and stifling sometimes. ¡°I¡¯ll start at the beginning.¡± And so you spin the tale of how you came to Xulaa and got into this whole mess. ¡°I, as an ambassador of the Ielian Senalature, was traveling alone from a province north of the Fonrog system back to Ielia, when I encountered a powerful, mental distress signal coming from a bind point that all charts labeled as uninhabited. It was persistent, and I thought it would cause me no harm to at least investigate.¡± Your tone is hard, painful, almost. ¡°When I arrived, I found a desolate, uninhabitable, storm-torn planet, with that same distress signal egging me on. So, not wanting to abandon an innocent to this hellscape, I halted my journey and made camp on Travelspace. I hoped that I would be able to discern the origins of the signal and possibly save the distressed before I was expected back home. I had no luck until I heard his voice for the first time.¡± Your voice drips with malice and venom, He was the one that caused this. ¡°I''m actually quite glad that you happen to stumble upon this place... I have been stranded here for quite some time.¡± He had said, telepathically, to you while you were in your camp, ¡°Welcome to... Well, it doesn''t have a name.¡± ¡°I was bewildered, Telepathy is not a common skill, not one given by many Primordials.¡± You tell, and Sero nods quietly, this was a fact that he was well aware of. ¡°But, despite my confusion,¡± You continue, ¡°I listened. That was my first mistake. He explained to me that this place, this inhospitable wasteland, was a Void System, ¡®ripe with untamed Allegory, and not unlike that illustrious Thorn Spark''s Manifold Apparatus¡¯ he had said.¡± You raise a hand to the air, twisting your fingers and disturbing the Allegory there such that it glowed subtly. ¡°I was greedy and naive, back then, and he exploited that. He proffered that this place was highly valuable, anyone who laid claim to it would become a God, and though methods unknown to me even now, he offered, ¡®It would be a powerful asset to The Ielian Empire.¡¯ I took the bait and accepted this place as my own, sealing my fate.¡± ¡°The Allegory locked you here, didn¡¯t it?¡± Sero asks softly. Void Systems are impossibly rare, but not uncommon knowledge. ¡°It did.¡± It was such a stupid mistake, one that could have been easily avoided. ¡°And now, since I was trapped, I was at the will, beck, and call of this person, one whom I learned the identity of far too late.¡± ¡°Oblivion. Scourge of the Universe.¡± ¡°Correct.¡± You turn your head to the man, who had sat down on the branch, his bare feet dangling off the edge and above the abyss, ¡°He gave me a planet that wasn¡¯t his. Despite that, I took after his instruction, and he, at first, seemed to be a trustworthy ally. And so I created what you see before you¡­¡± You ignite your Leg Path, the Path of Mobility and Direction, rising into the air, arms spread to showcase: ¡°This birthed world! An alien and dying planet!¡± The sunrise gleams, radiance washing over your creation. This place is your progeny, however much you hate it. An inescapable truth to befit a Queen of the Sun. Slowly, you sink back down to the branch below, full of roiling, mixing emotions. ¡°Sero, I know you from before my imprisonment.¡± You speak to the sunrise. ¡°I doubt anyone doesn¡¯t,¡± He replies, ¡°With the things I have done, I bet the whole universe has heard at least one of my names.¡± His tone isn¡¯t what you expect, some of his actions were almost atrocities, in his eyes. You pause before continuing, ¡°I heard the tales that you were the one of the immortal few who Sealed this Abomination here, after the War against him.¡± You look down, thinking back, sifting through oceans of useless memories, ¡°You, Kangleka Urlm, Purity, Arleck the Servant, and The Ancient Dragon Pervevinex. Beings of extreme Allegorical Mastery, all came together to imprison the most dangerous human in the cosmos.¡± The man shifts uncomfortably. You must have stirred up unwanted memories. You don¡¯t speak for a moment, letting the silence extend, before saying, ¡°L¡¯Oos was blinded by fear, she had buried our memories as she could not decipher why she was their bearer. After I had shaped Xulaa, as I had called it, to my desires, Oblivion continued to ask me of things. I did as he asked, as I had little choice. I was stuck here, now, and I needed entertainment. This lasted for weeks, here, but slowly, I noticed his voice becoming weaker and more strained. It was odd, but I thought nothing of it, again. That was my second mistake. ¡°He only lasted a few more days before I couldn¡¯t hear his voice, and his signature was weak, yet still there. And, exactly one day later, when I created humans to inhabit my world, all went dark.¡± Sero cocks his head, ¡°What happened? Were you conscious?¡± ¡°Well, no, but in a way, yes, as well.¡± You feel like that is even more confusing, but it gets the message across. ¡°Firstly, do you remember the mechanics of Oblivion¡¯s Prison? You, being one of its crafters?¡± Sero furrows his brow, ¡°I know the jist, Kangleka and Arleck were the masterminds behind its structure.¡± He lowers his chin into his hand in thought, ¡°He was ¡®Primordially¡¯ Sealed, his mind and soul were forced asleep and placed inside a metaphysical pocket dimension, powered by his Allegory, which was also spread throughout the planet, and his body was fundamentally destroyed.¡± He looks to you again from the glowing horizon. ¡°Does that suffice?¡± You nod approvingly, ¡°You are right on those points, but there are some hidden, interesting factors that you weren¡¯t privy to. First, the prison was more alive than you expect. And second, someone installed a backup of sorts. The prison itself was just that, a pocket dimension. A subplane on Travelspace with a single purpose: be nearly impossible to escape from. But as all prisons do, they erode. Rust. Break down. And that is precisely what they must have expected, so they made a backup system, one that would detect if its occupant woke up and either alert its maker or simply seal them away again.¡± ¡°And what does this have to do with you?¡± The man asks, quizzically. ¡°The Prison chose the second option, and, in its attempt to fix its security issue, it utilized a technically outlawed Sealing method using the only other soul available: Shattering.¡± The man¡¯s eyes go wide as his mind connects the dots. ¡°No¡­ It split your Soul into it¡¯s base fragments and placed them inside humans here. As long as your Soul never rejoined to become¡­ You again¡­ Oblivion would remain trapped.¡± It dawns on him, his eyes going wide. ¡°So that¡¯s why the Prison looked like that!¡± You smirk slightly, ¡°Exactly. I was fashioned into a headstone for him, five keys made from their one God. ¡± You sigh deeply, smiling despite the apparent doom. ¡°Oblivion has been released from his bonds. He is awake after all these long, vengeful years, and he, no doubt, wishes only death and destruction to the Universe that put him there.¡± Sero jumps up from his seat on the wood, ¡°We need to get moving, we might be able to seal him again!¡± You shake your radiant head, and your smoke-like hair is turbulent in the morning air. ¡°There is nothing the two of us can do by ourselves.¡± You turn to the agitated Forerunner, ¡°but, there is some hope. Our villain is free, but not out. He still needs to break free from the physical confinement. This struggle will last roughly 10 hours. So, I propose a temporary solution.¡± You float upwards slightly, one hand behind your back and the other, palm up. ¡°Inside every Titan Tree is a wealth of Allegory. It is what keeps them suspended over the Boiling Sea below the clouds, and is what is keeping them from collapsing under their weight.¡± You wave your hand out over the clouds and to the solitary monstrosities, motioning to the biological marvels that they are. ¡°What I want is to save the people I have created. Oblivion, Odium of All Things, will surely not leave them unscathed. So I propose a solution. We will move the people of this planet to Travelspace by creating Bind Points inside every Titan Tree.¡± Sero¡¯s eyes widen with a sharp inhalation, ¡°You would have your people leave their planet? Banished to the white void that is Travelspace?¡± You shake your head again, your brow furrowing. ¡°I understand what might happen to my people, however, I see this as one of few alternatives. This is the one that I have set my heart upon, and I believe that this will be enough to save these trapped, doomed people.¡± Sero seems to consider it, his bright, cyan eyes flicking back and forth in thought. ¡°I understand,¡± he says finally, ¡°I will help if need be.¡± You nod, ¡°Good. Let us get started.¡± There is a deep inhalation, a breath with neon eyes closed. You rise into the warm, morning sky, and a chorus of voices rings out inside your very Soul, intoning a mantra not unlost to you. ¡°Become the match that strikes aflame upon the path of ambition!¡± Then, all at once, you ignite all your Paths. There is a single, unmarred instant before you explode with righteous light. The sun resting its golden, brilliant body on the horizon responds by flashing in kind, pulsing as you enter Path Overburn. Allegory floods every minuscule crevice of your being, soaking your mind, body, and soul, aerating your humanity with aureate liquid. Reality bends to your will, this world is yours to control, and so, with your neon arms spread like grand, glorious wings, you command the silent sentinels of this world to open their hidden gates. Across all of Xulaa, thousands of Titan Trees begin their sequence. Great, space-ripping cracks echo in the silent, waking world. Deep within each organism, upon whose shoulders rest the lives of all humans and animals here, an orb of scintillation appears, each humming quietly inside their decaying containment, like the god they will be used to escape from. It eats at the wood around it, chewing outward to the rising sun. Sero stands, bare feet on gnarled wood, his whole, ancient body tense and itching to move. He murmurs under his breath rapidly in a language lost to the Universe, the old Forerunner language as it was eons ago. He¡¯s praying. ¡°Sero! I ask only of one thing!¡± You yell over the rushing wind that rips and pulls at you. The man looks up at you in an assured sort of way, like he managed to right himself in his mind. ¡°Julia, I am yours to command.¡± He takes a low, sweeping bow. Suddenly, his whole body erupts with white light, Allegory beginning to rush off of him in droves. This is Sero¡¯s Max Sprint, that powerful form he used back when Nova chased him. You smile at the flourish, the smell of magic tickles your Overburning nose, a sprinkling, glittering smell, ¡°Help me reach my people, travel from Tree to Tree, and warn them about Oblivion and their escape down in the bowels of their homes. Tell them to climb down their trunks and enter into the new era¡­ Tell them you are a messenger from L¡¯Oos, that will get them to listen.¡± He nods with a weary smile. And, with you in motion, you two blast off the branch in opposite directions¡­ Towards the new dawn.