In Place of Starlight
Inquiries about the release schedule or production process are to be made to @nameless3544 on Discord.
Also note that this story is not lore accurate. Some worldbuilding has been tweaked in chronological order to fit the story.
1.
“So weep for ash, and weep for ruin-
For embers fade, and swells the sea.
Hold onto hope, and in so doing,
Beware- the Tide comes too for thee.”
The Old World
Kaide was a proud Lightborn. Before the Tides and the Cantaclysm, he was the Divine General serving under Lysander Spellhardt himself, although he existed in a family under the Spellhardts called the Constellia.
He would watch the skies as the suns departed, the golden rays of light shining to the surface below and through the falling waters of the Cities Above. It painted a glorious picture of a society high amongst the skies, bound together by chains. The evening trumpets created a triumphant feel as the golden rays retreated and faded to the umbral curtain of night. He felt bliss enjoying the world he helped create. Content in bringing further blessings to the Lightborn.
Of course, a perfect world doesn’t exist.
The Surface, having recently been created by the benevolence of the Celestials, was not the amphibious environment we have come to know. At this time, the world was populated by primal lifeforms, dominated by land. The very surface became the vessel to the Song’s power. A Prime location for mutations and extremist forms of religion. Those that chased after the Song then are indisputably infinitely more powerful than our modern applications. A bloody free-for-all where the Soul and the Song resonated to mutate the vessel to become amalgamations in the Song’s image. Just like how the Old World was better at using the Song to its full destructive might, it was almost impossible to control it at that level without their mind crumbling. Without the blessing of a Celestial, Drowned God, or an Otherworld Intervention, one who came into contact with the Song was doomed to surrender their body. As a result, three major factions were created. The Lightborn, Krulian, and the Extremist Songseekers.
And it was on this land that the Celestials and Drowned Gods would dispute indirectly- Lightborn against Krulian.
Sleepless nights under the constant watch of the Moonseye slowly chipped away at Kaide, always following the will of the Stars, suffering in silence as he led his people into war against the Krulians. The scorched earth, the fire in his eyes as he stuck down one after the other, meaninglessly, in an effort to "prevent" the rise of the Drowned Gods. Away from the light for so long, he was destroyed under his instability.
He was a graceful and kind man- always aiming to be the best. But as I stared into his hollow eyes, unblinking and unfocused as we sat in silence, waiting for the next attack, counting the abysmal amount of soldiers after each and every wave-
I had the fleeting feeling something in him had broke. His halo flickered irrationally. Instead of his bright, vivid purple- a show of his regal standing and pride, it instead was a faded white- even the runes inscribed upon it, that each Lightborn prided themselves on its words- were smudged and faded.
“Be the mysterious light the few whom were chosen.”
Words each and every last Lightborn lived by.
He would mutter in his sleep, always alert and on edge. I could always see the bags under his eyes. We may be of Celestial blood- but we are still human. And I knew, that for every drop of ichor spilled on these burning fields soon to be nothing but memories, he blamed himself. One particularly nasty night, I had heard him speak quite clearly- but in his hunched manner of protective sleeping. It was harrowing, listening to his thoughts. The tapping of his fingers to the rhythm of the rain that fell upon us drowned my awareness. Moments ago where I could hear his prayers and questions I now only heard a blighted muffled speech. In any case, he had already put his plan in motion.
I don’t suppose his reaction was the best in that situation. However I suspect it was more of a breach in an imperfect vessel such as Kaide where the Song spoke to him to unleash his Divine Light. At the time it was thought that exposure to the Song on the Surface had corrupted his mind beyond repair. Others may think otherwise, and that what he did was the result of being unable to handle the battlefield any longer, but the result was the same. He went back to the Celestial cities, drew his sword, and slashed Lysander across his chest.
That one moment would spell the end of a legacy. Kaide would watch the fires of the cities above as they fell, one by one, to the burning world below. And I was beside him for years.
But as the Celestials slowly disappeared from this world, as he was abandoned to fight a war long since lost, seeing star after star disappear from the dark nights…
What choice did he have? I’m sure that is what went through his head when he drew first blood against the Stars. But as I stood beside him at the end of his conquest, grasping his bloodied hand like he had done for so many of our past comrades… staring into those empty, golden eyes… that feeling of overwhelming guilt and sorrow as I asked myself, “How have you been able to resist the loss of so many under the waves? The burden you carried- how could I have not been able to tell it before? Forgive me- I was not good enough to be by your side, Kaide…” And I saw- as I looked up- the world had already left me behind in the dying embers of the battlefield. I knew, then on, to mourn only briefly, as I took upon his mantle to finish his mission- if not in his tarnished name, then mine.
2.
Miner’s Landing, Ignition Union Territory, Eastern Luminant, 0120 Hours
Two Ignition Deepdelvers and a small group of Ignition researchers surrounded the generator. The familiar hiss of steam did little to calm the group’s nerves, as they looked in silence at the prototype. Astra Kamali, the first Tiran Deepdelver, had her arms crossed and was nervously grinding her teeth together, staring at the generator. Kiyoko “Halcyon” Bykof was right next to her, rubbing his facial markings intensely. Halcyon was a Celtor- and therefore well versed in the economics and human geography of Lumen. He had come to terms with the Great Drowning, having passed by the sunken city every time on his way to the Chariot's Spire. He was usually stoic, so it was unnerving to see his expression. The generator’s incessant rumbling and occasional spark of Thundercall was troubling, to say the least.
“This is it?”
Astra unfolded her arms and stepped over to the terminal next to the generator.
“Kyrsian Medallions…” She trailed off. While unstable, the medallions possessed a spark of affinity, serving as the Ignition Union’s most recent power source. She turned to the researchers who designed it, the looks on their faces just as worrying as the messy, uncovered cables with a constant surge of Thundercall flowing through them.
“And you say it's broken? Really? It doesn’t look broken to me.”
A Canor researcher shuffled forwards, holding a clipboard and adjusting his glasses.
“Astra, it’s not broken… but it’s dangerous to put it into use, and it’s certainly not able to be deployed into action for the Frontier Furnace. At least, not with these cables lying around everywhere. The frequency of the Song focused in the cables is too much for the reinforcement to handle.”
He gave the clipboard over to Astra, who skimmed it over.
“What do you think, Halcyon?” Astra turned and gave it over to Halcyon, who looked it over thoroughly in another moment of silence. With each flip of the paper, his expression became more nervous, fidgeting around and absent-mindedly biting his fingers. His show of stress was more than enough to make everyone in the room nervous, as Halcyon had been the Head in the Union’s R&D department for four years before his combat initiative and prowess was recognized and was promoted to Deepdelver. He looked over it again before speaking.
“It looks to me a lot of heat and energy from the medallions are lost with the distance the energy must travel from the generator to the Furnace. Combined with the snow and the warpings of the Depths… It won’t be enough energy. Which means the problem is these cables.”
His eyes flicked over to the sparking cables nearby.
“Speaking of, why are they just sitting around like that? Are you all Thundercallers? Is that why a massive shock hazard is just lying around? Because it won’t matter? In any case, fix it later.”
He handed the clipboard back to the sweating researcher, before looking over Astra’s shoulder to see the power readings on the terminal.
“I mean… It should be fine for use on the surface projects… but it’s not suited for the Second Layer, and we’re behind the Divers. Certainly, all their expeditions have gone horribly wrong… but if we keep “preparing,” eventually they’ll figure it all out and lay out a successful expedition plan before us.” He shook his head, looking at the generator again. “We’re running out of medallions, with all these experiments. Not only that, now we’ve got the damn Knives on our backs- The Summer Company’s been raiding our shipments for the medallions, and we can’t even prove it was them, all the Knives just scurry around and about- can’t even catch them…” Halcyon continued muttering and rambling as he crouched down to examine the cables.
“Speaking of… the frequency of the Song in these cables are very powerful- I assume that’s the reason they’re leaking electricity from under the reinforcement?” He turned to the Canor researcher, who nodded. “What if we just separated the power into multiple cables? Sure, it’d need more resources and maintenance work… but it’s much better than wasting any more medallions.” The Canor mulled it over, thinking to himself. The other two with him, both Ganymedes, started scribbling on their clipboards, as they conversed silently with each other. The Canor tilted his head, seemingly remembering something.
“I’m sure that I made a strong resistor there… Maybe it’s broken. The seas were a tad bit rough on the way here- maybe a part broke.”
Halcyon became interested. “Really?” He turned his head back to the generator. “Have you tried kicking it or something?”
The Canor raised an eyebrow. “W-what? Mate, you can’t be serious… Hey, wait, what are you doing?! Halcyon?!”
Halcyon was about to blow a ship-sized hole in the generator before Astra drew her Railblade and put it in between his kick and the generator- causing her to shake and reverberate from the force with a loud clang. It caught her off guard- the kick reminded her of an old Vesperian in Etris one time… before she stumbled into the generator with a loud clunk from the force. She whipped her head around, staring at the generator. She was not the only one- everyone had frozen in place, staring at the generator with bated breath, as if everyone had expected it to blow up. Delta, who was nearby, peeked over from his usual station with wide eyes, also staring at the almost guaranteed disaster. The generator stayed silent, aside from the steam. Astra relaxed, sighing in relief.
“Close one.” She got up and took a deep breath, before shaking Halcyon roughly. “Gods Below, I swear, sometimes you’re stupider than I am- you can’t just go kicking sh*t after a fourteen hour work day- ARE YOU LISTENING?” Halcyon, with a neutral and tired look on his face, subjected himself to the shaking. He thought it was pretty obvious it was a joke. He let his mind drift, ignoring her yells. She was right, of course. The lack of sleep and the boring diplomatic processes to get their hands on Medallions just for them to break on their way here cause him to impulsively act. He had gotten quite used to it- in fact, he just wondered why he was even here, when the research team would have handled the problem. Speaking of the research team, they too had gone crazy, throwing their papers into the air and joining in on the reprimanding. The usual silence of the Ganymedes had exploded like Halcyon had dumped salt on them- not that he would, of course- but it shocked him at first that even the Ganymedes were yelling. Ironically, Astra bumping into the Generator caused it to cough and roar to life after a switch had clicked in place. Of course, none of them would hear over the yelling nor know it worked until the night shift had reported it operational in the morning. In any case, the Union was ready to finally compete with the Divers. At the bugle’s call, the Deepdelver team assembled at the Deepdrills to depart to The Chariot’s Spire.
3.
The Twins
“Check.”
Crow hunched forwards on the chessboard further. He wouldn’t lose- not this time. He moved his king over, opening the diagonal. Damn, he thought. I should’ve just blocked with a Mudskipper (Pawn), now he can move his queen up for a battery. Which his brother, Zero, did. He watched as his brother smirked. He hated that- it meant he was certainly going to lose. He brushed it off, picking up a piece and spinning it around in his hand, looking for the best move. His expression turned sour as he slowly realized the shock that was coming to him. He sighed and put his hand forward. Zero’s smirk went from ear to ear, and Crow felt the increasing need to slap him across the face.
“I win, brother. You can’t beat me anymore.”
Crow gripped his brother’s hand as hard as he could, both of them to other people appearing their sportsmanship after a good match- when in reality both of them just wanted to kill the other and be done with it. They both gave each other innocent smiles.
“I’ve taught you all I know- and you used that knowledge to overcome me. You’ve figured me out, Zero.”
Zero kept shaking his hand, his smile dissolving into an evil smirk.
“I know that you knew that I used your knowledge to figure me out, Crow…” Zero was doing it again.
Crow dropped his smile.
“We’re not doing this.”
Zero pouted. “Really?” Crow shook his hand one last time, as closure.
“No.”
Zero sighed, before gesturing to Krile, who nodded and focused her void energy to return the pieces back to their spots, before stepping up to the pair with a smile. She really meant the best for both of them, always watching.
“You both played well. It’s just a matter of practice. I know how both of you act- and it’s not a bad thing. Rather, it can be improved upon to make your character better- maybe even put it into action in your bounties.”
The pair straightened up, their Chrysid ears perking before replying with straight faces.
“Yes, ma’am!”
The pair took a moment to sneak a glance at each other, as if to communicate “What is she talking about?”
Krile chuckled at their reaction. It was cute, in a way. The pair of them hated each other, but they would die for the other in a moment’s notice. She wondered briefly what a sibling would be like, before dismissing the thought and speaking in a gentle voice.
“At ease, soldiers.” She said teasingly. “New bounties on the board- go check them out. Don’t kill each other bragging when you come back, okay?”
The Chrysid pair nodded, grinned, and scurried off the board, ramping up the stairs of the Voidheart before skidding to a stop in front of the packed bounty board. Zero’s ears perked up, as he tilted his head. Crow picked Zero and put him on his shoulders so he could see the board clearly.
“Hey, what's up with the crowd?” Crow tapped a fellow Voidwalker’s shoulder who snapped their head in his direction. “What?” They snapped. She was a Gremor from the Redwood distinctive appearance. Crow vaguely remembered her- she primarily worked her own jobs and just used the Voideye to travel. Must be nice living a double life. Crow cleared his throat as she eyed Zero on his shoulders. “I asked what the crowd was for.” She shrugged. “I’m just waiting my turn to check out the board, just like everyone here.”
Most Voidwalkers were already dispersing and disappearing into shrouds of black mist and tendrils, while some dashed for the Voidmother’s chamber, clearing the crowd in a matter of a few minutes. In the confusion and sudden stampede, Crow had to hold onto Zero’s legs tightly as Zero bent over and clutched Crow’s head for support. They both looked rather stupid in a position like that, and the Gremor made a jab about it. “Stupid to let that kid on your head like that. You were just asking to get tripped.” Zero slipped off Crow’s back and stuck out his tongue at the Gremor, who made a face back. “Well, time to see what's on the board this time, then. Come to think of it, when was the last time everyone just went after the same guy…” Crow trailed off as he scratched the back of his head, staring at the bounty tag in front of him.
Sergei Zeneke ★★★★★
Proof of Zeneke’s head will reward the hunter with 500,000 notes by order of the Central Authority.
Crow stopped reading at “five hundred thousand notes.” Any suspicions in his head were immediately cleared at the mention of the prize. To put it in comparison, to restart one’s life took precisely fourteen thousand notes. Five thousand for the Underworld to rewrite your history, seven for papers, fake identifications, bribes, and basic needs. And lastly, two thousand for a fast boat. Zero frowned a little. His brother suffered from hemophilia, anemia, and an iron deficiency, which made normal fights and bounties ten times worse if he got hit. Put simply, his pale and thin figure was the result of multiple blood disorders that he couldn’t afford to pay for- hence why the both of them became voidwalkers. 500,000 notes would be way more than enough to solve all their problems. Of course, a bounty that high would probably be more than either of them could chew- Zero was a proud Galebreather, and Crow was an Ironsinger from having worked with the Ignition Union in the past. It helped his iron deficiency and steadied him in battle, but it was a temporary solution to a never-ending problem. At that rate, they would be stuck Voidwalking until they died. Neither of them were too sure about the bounty, despite being well-versed in their Song. Zero continued, fiddling with his hands and looking worryingly at Crow while the Gremor looked at the pair with a slightly less stern gaze.
“Don’t you think 500,000 is a bit too much? I wouldn’t have questioned it if it was a five star and five thousand, but…”
Zero’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Five hundred thousand? Really? And what about Elyis? How much of the cut will she take?”
Zero, concerned, stepped over to his brother.
“Look, we’ll figure it out.”
Crow handed over the bounty information. Sergei Zeneke, a five-star Ganymede.
“See, just a piece of paper. Don’t think about it.” Zero’s reply made Crow’s blood chill.
It was truly worrying- Crow didn’t want to put his brother in danger nor let him get negative ideas about life, not when he had even a proper childhood. But it was scary, seeing that Zero, his younger brother who turned eighteen only weeks ago, was so nonchalant with… killing. Crow wanted him to be a normal child, and yet, Zero would stare blankly at his bounty as he pinned them down and slit their throat with indifference. The Knives truly… molded both of them into killing machines. Crow would even sometimes cry to himself in the Voidheart, waiting for his brother to return safely. He knew he would return, but less and less of his playful self. And that is what truly scared him.
So, why… am I hesitating to take this bounty? We’ll be together, without the Knives. Is it because I’m scared if Zero dies? Or if we go back to society, we’ll be pushed away because we were voidwalkers? Zero’s indifference… I don’t want him to be this way. I’ll take it. I’ll take it. I’ll-
“Crow? You alright?” Zero’s words made Crow snap out of it, and he nodded. He took the paper from Zero.
“Who is this Sergei, anyways? Why’s he worth this much?”
Zero shook his head.
“How am I supposed to know? Is it on there? Check his affiliation, see if that tells us anything.”
Crow focused his body onto the bounty. Floating throughout the world, tracking him down… until it came to a rest at the Isle of Vigils.
“It’s… the Isle of Vigils.” Crow furrowed his brow. Despite being a Chrysid, he was not particularly good at hiding his emotions. Zero noticed the changes. Crow was worried, about him, about everyone else. It’s like he forgot he was constantly on the verge of death. Zero clenched his fists. Why are you like this, man? Worry for yourself first- you’re even worried about your bounties, for Gods sakes! You’re the most fragile person I’ve ever known- why do you insist on helping others when it’s running you into the ground?!
Zero centered himself and calmed his breathing.
“So… it’s implied that the bounty is a Vigil Swordsman? That’s nothing, right? We’ve done stuff like that before…”
Crow nodded in agreement.
“You’re right… Let’s do this.”
Crow and Zero both latched onto the Grasp before waking from the dream in a puff of void and smoke.
Starling Askura stared as the pair disappeared, immersed in her own world. It was a shame, really. She was almost certain that one would die. Chained Souls like them were always cursed to have one die to unleash the power of the other. Spinning on her heel and adjusting her glasses, she strolled down to the Voidmother’s Hall.
4.
The Temple of the Blade, Lawless Territory of Etrea, Etrean Luminant
Halcyon leaned against the wall with crossed arms as he watched Sergei spar against one of his fellow swordsmen in the Temple of the Blade. He had time to spend before departing for the Second Layer, now that the generator worked. He stayed silent out of respect for the combatants and the temple itself. He hadn’t bothered to fix his hair- so his curly, short, and dark green hair itched and covered his greener eyes. He had a tired and introverted look to him- just watching on the sidelines and a blank stare. He took a moment to fix his Delver’s Duster, a mark of pride, the only mark of pride he allowed himself. The background never got to him- he was attuned to respond to only certain sounds and noises. Those close to him were familiar with his behavior, as he was attuned to the precision of Thundercall and the patience of Flamecharm, causing his silent, hard-working attitude. The familiar clank of steel as the blacksmith hammered weapons and armor, Sergei and Artemis sparring, and the cold wind exuded from the Maestro himself, Evenguarde Rest. It all fell upon deaf ears as Halcyon adjusted his coat and continued to watch Sergei intensely.
Gods below, why is he staring at me so hard? Sergei twinged slightly as he felt Artemis’s stab get through his guard. Artemis looked slightly surprised and kept up the pressure as Maestro side-eyed him, also seemingly surprised. Ack! Now Maestro’s staring, too! Sergei’s eyes gleamed and he sidestepped Artemis’s forward heavy stab, before palming her sword hand to the side and prepared for a strong, guard-breaking overhead strike. Artemis stumbled and brought up her guard to block, as Sergei calmly infused his strike with Galebreathe, inhaling the winds. Halcyon watched the resulting screech of a sword impact and the thump of the impact against the mat, kicking up dust and parting the air. Artemis’s guard was forced to one knee as she rolled back. Sergei stepped forward with another overhead, homing to her head. This time, Artemis raised her sword to parry but her posture was too high to generate enough force behind the pivot. Her guard broke under the weight, and she staggered, catching her breath. They both sheathed their blades and bowed at each other, clapping each other’s backs and hugging. Halcyon felt a twinge of jealousy at that, but reminded himself that, unlike him, Sergei was outgoing and isn’t afraid to speak his mind. Sergei slipped his helm off and went over to Halcyon, who was smiling warmly and clapping silently.
“Wow… you look tired. More so than you usually do.” Sergei leaned a hand on his sheath and put his weight on his back leg, taking a casual pose. Halcyon scoffed, smiling more.
“I know. I still wanted to visit you, though.”
Sergei smiled, adjusting his Ganymede hat.
“That so? You know, I kind of want to see you fight against a Vigil, personally. You’ve been watching me a lot, so why not try it out?”
Halcyon seemed open to the idea. He thought it over, tilting his head. Of course, with the amount of sleep he got, his mind drifted slightly as he hid a wide smile with a hand as he thought about if Astra were here. What?! A random Vigil?? You’d listen to him and not me?? You f*cki- Right. That’s the end of that thought. Halcyon calmed his smile and looked back at Sergei, who was still smiling.
“Sure. I think I’ll try it out.”
Sergei beamed, as Halcyon looked away again, not knowing what to say. How is he effortlessly looking better than I could be in two hours? It’s like he’s glowing. Sergei waved another Vigil over.
“Hey, Oki. We’ve got a friend of mine here who wants to try out Vigil sparring, go easy on him, alright?”
A young Canor walked over, beaming at the sight of the two.
“Of course, sir! I’ll be happy to help introduce him!” Sergei chuckled. “What’s with the ‘sir?’ Just call me Sergei.”
Oki nodded enthusiastically as Halcyon stepped to the side to allow Oki to connect with Sergei. Oki held Sergei in the highest reverence, right next to the Maestro, who was still calmly looking at the three. The young Canor looked to Halcyon next, amazed at the duster.
“T-That’s a Delver’s Duster! Friend, are you a Deepdelver? If so, I acknowledge your strength! Wow, I’ve never met someone from the Union- only in books- can I touch it??”
Halcyon didn’t know what to say as Oki continued fawning over him.
“You’re so tall! You’re like an entire head taller!” Oki turned to Sergei, jumping excitedly.
“Sergei, I promise he’ll be in good hands!”
Sergei and Oki bowed at each other as Halcyon felt the burning embarrassment of not responding properly. Sergei patted Halcyon on the back, leading him to one of the sparring mats.
“Hey, don’t sweat it- you’ll do fine.”
Halcyon glanced at Oki, who was humming to himself and spinning around.
“You sure about this? He looks a bit young… and fragile… I don’t want to hurt him…” Halcyon trailed off as Sergei adjusted him at his starting position.
“Don’t worry. Oki’s strong. He might not look the part, but he’ll mess you up if you dwell too long on your strikes. He’s all about punishing.”
Sergei smiled and nodded, giving a quick salute before going over to the sidelines to watch. Halcyon nodded back before facing Oki as they bowed at each other, deeply. Halcyon’s ears twitched. What was that noise? I only subconsciously heard it. He looked over at the entrance to the temple as he focused his hearing. Oki and Sergei frowned and looked at the door. The steady flow of adrenaline poured into Halcyon’s heart as his breathing slowed and the thump, thump of his heart made him tense. His hand hovered over the Railblade on his back, staring intensely at the door. The continuous clanking of the blacksmith and the steady drum of his heartbeat was all he heard. Was he wrong with his hearing? Sergei and Oki drew their swords, both alert as well. Halcyon felt his lips dry up as he focused harder, now hearing the frequencies of the Song. There- again!
“Someone’s here. I heard it. And they’re not here looking for a lesson in swordplay.”
Sergei and Oki nodded at Halcyon’s words, grouping together. Halcyon closed his eyes and let his hearing drift.
There it is again! And again! Think- where have I heard this?
Halcyon opened his eyes in alarm.
“Voidwalkers. A horde of them.”
He drew his Railblade. The steady clank of metal went silent.
“Get ready, because this place is about to look real bloody.”
The doors burst open, and all Depths was let loose.
5.
Vigil Guard v. The Knives of Elyis
Zero and Crow reassembled at the peaks of the Isle of Vigils. The clean skies and the architectural achievements of Etrea was strangely calming to them. Crow started climbing down wordlessly as the pair gracefully stepped from bamboo to bamboo, before Crow rolled to break his fall. Zero was still in the skies, stepping on gusts of wind as he rushed forwards and broke his fall using what he called “Aerogliding.” Crow called out to Zero.
“Wait.”
Zero stopped. “What is it?” He turned, obviously annoyed.
“Don’t you remember? A whole horde of Knives went in there- it’ll be a bloodbath for them. There’s like eight Vigil guards, plus the bounty. How about we wait until they’re weakened to fight them?”
Zero shook his head.
“And if they get the bounty? What then? What happens to the notes?” Crow held his hand up, and Zero fell silent.
“I know you’re worried. But the Vigil guard is not a force we want to mess with head on. First, wait out the crowd. Then we’ll scoop up the rest.”
Zero was hesitating to reply, his mouth stuck on the first syllable.
“Fff………ine.” Zero sighed heavily.
“You were about to say something else, weren’t you?”
Zero scoffed at the mention. The sounds of fighting were nearby, and the two waited in silence as the clank of swords and cries of pain came from the Temple of the Blade.
…
It was like the whole place had turned upside down. The lanterns that hung overhead had toppled mid fight as the rafters and supporting poles burned. Halcyon was breathing heavily, leaning on his Railblade for support. Sergei, Oki, and the rest of the remaining Vigil Guard were inside the training hall, also breathing heavily. A mess of blood stained the floors as the two remaining Vigils moved bodies and weapons left and right while Sergei and Oki blew wind at the fires to stop them. Halcyon couldn’t help but glance over at the Maestro, who looked like he couldn’t care less that his entire training hall just got raided by the Knives and nearly blew the place up. Halcyon turned his attention to Sergei and Oki, who were mourning six Vigils who had died fighting the Knives. His heart panged to see their faces of loss, as the hall was cleaned up and the remaining Vigils silently carried the fallen bodies away. Oki had been wounded badly in his torso but insisted that he was fine. After Halcyon and Sergei continuously pestered him, Oki resigned himself and exited the halls to seek medical attention. Halcyon and Sergei caught their breaths.
Zero and Crow silently took down a pair of Vigils who were taking bodies away from the skirmish. They leaped from above, pinning them down and muffled them before silently cutting their necks. They dragged the bodies to a nearby inn, where they put them behind the building. They dashed back to the Temple, sliding down the stairs and coming into an empty blacksmith, the main training hall to their right. Crow’s heart beat preemptively as he took a small peek from the folding doors.
Halcyon was disoriented from having been hit in the head with an iron cestus, covering his bleeding nose. Sergei was making sure the fires were out, as he stole glances at Halcyon to see if he was alright. The incessant ringing in Halcyon’s head made it hard for him to focus on his Flamecharm to cauterize his nose nerves. He couldn’t have heard the muffled cries, nor the whispers right outside the door.
“A Celtor and the bounty,” Crow whispered to Zero. “You take the bounty- I’ll deal with the Celtor.”
Zero hissed at Crow. “The Celtor has a great sword- not only that, but that’s the damn Ignition-made Railblade. And he has a Delver’s Duster. One hit from him and you’ll bleed out.”
Crow nodded. “Then I’ll go for the bounty.”
Halcyon puked a second time. He hated killing people. Even though they were voidwalkers, and better off… They were just trying to do their jobs. He would never forget their eyes as he stood above them, silently dipping his head. But now his squeamish side was setting in, and his vision blurred as he recentered and began a breathing exercise. Sergei nodded at him and approached him.
“Hey… you alright?”
Halcyon nodded. “Compared to you, yeah…”
His vision returned, and he scanned the room. His eyes gleamed, fully alert. He took a breath and picked up the Railblade. “Sergei!”
6.
Paired Soul
Children of the Stars, more commonly referred to as “Paired Souls,” is a recurring phenomenon in Lumen when twins are born under Starlight at the right time. When the stars align properly, it bestows rules upon the twins unknown to them until the conditions are fulfilled. Crow and Zero Nyctida were unfortunate in their Celestial Sponsor, who was obsessed with revenge. Therefore, the Vow created upon the twins consisted of the following.
One, the oldest twin will suffer a chronic disease until death or the condition is fulfilled.
Two, if the younger twin dies, the oldest will be released of their disease and gain full control of their Song at maximum potential until their rage is spent, at which point they can enter this state again in moments of near death.
Three, if the older twin dies, the younger will be empowered by the Celestial, “Wraith Incarnate,” and will enter the state of “Revenge.” The younger will be able to call upon the Celestial at will to lend them power to obliterate their enemy so long as it is done to exact revenge.
Four, the Celestial Vow can no longer be activated after it is initiated the first time, or if either twin is rendered unable to fight.
Five, neither twin will know of this Vow until the conditions have been fulfilled.
***
“Hey… you alright?” Sergei reached out a hand to Halcyon.
Halcyon nodded. “Compared to you, yeah…”
His vision returned, and he scanned the room. His eyes gleamed, fully alert. He took a breath and picked up the Railblade. “Sergei!”
Two incoming figures burst in the room. One shot a barrage of needles and the second, a blast of wind that flung Halcyon across the room.
Both of them were Chrysids, and the Ironsinger looked extremely pale. Halcyon drew his blade again as the Galebreather danced around him, hitting him with gusts and blasts of wind, kicking torrents of air and bullets of wind. Sergei was also caught off guard as the Ironsinger blasted through his guard like it was nothing with a stomp that sent barrages of metal into his gut.
“Ak-!” Sergei hyperventilated as he felt his entire side get caved in by a kick laced with metal- the panic in his mind prevented him from using his Song, which meant he was at a severe disadvantage. He was already bleeding intensely from the eruption of metal, but the kick shocked him. The utter control the voidwalker had over him meant he was doing something wrong- and he knew that was not acceptable. He calmed himself and prepared his blade- its tone becoming steady as the voidwalker continued his barrage of metal. He found a moment to attack, having parried a mass of metal caltrops the voidwalker had thrown at him, inhaling, pivoting on his foot before unleashing a slicing blade of wind at the attacker, who was forced back. Immediately, the voidwalker stuck his hand out as metals from the flooring condensed into a large metal rod, as they brought it down on Sergei. His eyes flashed, and Sergei instinctively side stepped the incoming iron slam. The Ironsinger huffed, catching his breath. Sergei felt himself delve deeper into the Song, the Rhythm of the true essence of Galebreathing. He raised his blade, and like a butterfly, he let loose a torrent of spinning kicks laced with gale, spreading his sword into the catalyst for the four blades forged from the winds itself. The Ironsinger’s eyes widened as his zone of control was halted, the blades circling around him suffocating. It caused him to hesitate- and Sergei sheathed his sword and entered a stance to finish the voidwalker, who was forced to his knees as blood spewed from the Wind Forge piercing his legs. This Voidwalker was no different from the others who he had shredded through. Just lucky enough to get a few hits in.
“Flashdraw Strike.”
Zero was easily dancing around the Celtor- who was shooting flaming arrows all around him. It felt exhilarating, as Zero leaped from wall to wall, gale step to gale step. In that moment, he felt as graceful as a leaf in the wind, soaring through the Celtor’s Flamecharming like it was nothing. The Celtor grit his teeth, before slamming the ground, creating a highly potent field of electromagnetism that caught Zero in shock, blasting him out of the air. His legs buzzed as he felt his insides churn from the shock- but he flipped backwards onto his feet to avoid the Celtor’s next strike. Damn, what’s with this guy? His Thundercall is like an Authority Shocktrooper! There, again, the Celtor was charging another flame arrow! Zero threw up his hands, clasping them together like he was holding a gun.
“Wind Gun, Multiply!”
Who is this kid? How is he this proficient in Galebreathing? I’m constantly feeling the pressure of suffocation- and now he’s straight up shooting me with wind! It’s the Summer Company incidents all over again! Damned guns… Halcyon took his shield from his back, an Old World Greatshield, raising it to block the wind. He dug his feet and Railblade into the ground, as the overpowering splash of gale felt like he was guarding from a hurricane. “Kt-!”
He grit his teeth, glancing over at Sergei, who was being cornered by the other Chrysid. He looked up from his shield before the second smashed into him with his shoulder, before uppercutting him sharply, causing him to falter and panic mid-air as the Chrysid he was fighting jumped up with a crack of gale, before delivering a pressurized tempest into his body, dragging him further into the air. The cracking of the wind as he felt his body rise up packed a punch- like how Sergei would inhale a Mantra before rapidly punching bags in his training. He fell and toppled over the sidelines, crashing into the wall.
I thought I could win. Ironsing is one of the strongest attunements of the Song. That is a well-known fact. But as I continue trading blows with this bounty, I feel my strength weaken. His little dance of wind has already cost me a great deal of blood.
“Flashdraw Strike.”
Oh… so it’s like that, huh? He’ll kill me. I can’t dodge with my legs crippled like this, and my vision is blurry from his suffocating winds. I can’t parry this next one. Brother, forgive me-
Sergei landed and swiped the blood from his blade using the inside of his elbow before silently sheathing his sword, looking at the bloody cross on the Chrysid’s body.
What was that? I felt his presence disappear-
Zero turned to look at the battle between his brother and the Vigil-
What?
What?
…
No. Nonononono. Don’t- no- I can’t- why- wait- stop it- stop it-
His eyes widened as he dashed over, trembling and stumbling as he made his way over to his brother, his chest carved right open. He collapsed next to him, holding his hand tightly as his mouth twitched and his eyes widened further, tears pouring out from his bloodshot eyes. HIs reaction was immediate.
“Ahh… ahhhhh…”
His voice, barely a whisper, trembled as Crow’s- no- his brother’s face became even paler. They don’t care- He was my brother? I… Thought… you could… don’t… leave?
Zero wailed as his rage and disbelief was channeled into his Song, an unwavering tempest as the hall imploded in a ball of gale. Sergei and Halcyon grunted and were thrown back across the hall, completely winded from the attack.
There was nothing Zero could do except pick up his dead brother and bolt out the door in a gust of wind.
He ran out the temple steps, past the bodies, and stumbled to his knees in the Temple Grounds.
The stench of the sea and the smell of blood did little to settle his nerves.
His legs hurt from the added weight, and his breathing was ragged.
He grasped onto his brother tightly, holding him like a mother crying over their dead son.
He closed his eyes and focused on the Voideye, a means of escape to this nightmare, but found no solace as it denied him entry.
A creeping voice in the back of his head pulled his head up as Crow’s blood soaked his Whaler Coat. Zero felt his mind go blank. All at once, in an overwhelming sensation, he felt a sense of purpose fueled by rage.
Exact Revenge.
7.
First Layer, Scyphozia
Black Divers are the epitome of superiority in the Diver program. They are meant to symbolize the embodiment of human weapons. Under the watchful eyes of Markor, Divers are individually selected, unknowing to them to enter Black Diver training. Upon the descent to Scyphozia, Already existing Black Divers lure those candidate Divers outside of their group to face death. They use Relics of the Deep to summon monsters beyond imagination- and judging how they face the incoming threat, they will either pass or fail Black Diver initiation trials. Should they fail to kill the monster, the Black Divers would retract or neutralize the monster and return the Diver initiate back to Castle Light, disqualified from being a Black Diver. And, should they pass…
Vin Iksatoka - The City of the Drowned [Lawless Territory of Lost Celtor]
Everytime I pass by this grand citadel, I am reminded of those who were there to witness the horror. Simply put, it began with the Cantaclysm. Humanity’s possession of the Song granted the foundation to what our world is- but such abuse to the base of this world caused paranormal shifts- the Tides came into effect, and with its arrival, so did the incoming influence of the Depths. When the tides were first sighted approaching Celtor, the military generals of the great citadel…
They abandoned their people. While this paints them in a negative light… I cannot say I blame them- the politics that occurred in the Varicosa District killed the city slowly from all the greed that corrupted the higher ups long before the city drowned. Generally, while the Celtorian horror happened so long ago, the recent remains left behind in Scyphozia are relatively unaffected by rot and decay, contrast to the souls who lurk its streets who slowly fall to insanity.
Speaking of- the shock alone of waking up into a place of legend, a bedtime story meant to keep children from doing reckless actions- already jumpstarts the reaction. The wheels in the catalyst of insanity begin to spin at a high rate, causing the mechanisms to stir. The already prejudiced viewpoint of Scyphozia brings about a solid foundation to its capabilities- and is proved time and time again as I try to converse with the Drowned. By the time I get to them, their minds are already a mess and all conversation-making abilities are drained. That is the nature of the First Layer- it creeps into the back of your mind and slowly seeps through the cracks and breaks it from within- like a river through rock.
Vin dragged a hand across one of the buildings of the City, feeling the course stone run through his slender and pale fingers. His other hand was holding multiple books, salvaged from the records he had found in the Varicosa district. He was always disciplined on how he had neglected multiple objectives to his Diver expedition, but he found his group too cautious and slow. He had never gotten into anything life-threatening, and if he did, well, he could always just run. He continued walking at a leisurely pace, admiring the sight of the Celtor Capital as a voice in the back of his head continued to monologue.
Simply put, a single thought of Scyphozia’s power whilst in its domain will initiate its power. One’s mind will tremble under the pressure that it puts upon the victim. Over time, they’ll surely lose themselves. That’s why us Divers are able to stay down here for so long. By denying its power, we are able to dwell in the First Layer with reduced insanity gain. That was in the Diver classes in Markor Citadel- and a little extra that I picked up in its extensive libraries.
Vin chuckled at his own summary of how Scyphozia worked- but quickly realized it seemed quite insane for him to be talking to himself in such great detail. Chalking it up to Scyphozia’s grasp on his Soul and mind, he whistled a carefree tune as he turned his attention to the gloomy lights above.
8.
Black Diver Initiation
Black Diver Feldspar Etude - The City of the Drowned [Lawless Territory of Lost Celtor]
Us Black Divers have free reign over whatever we wish to do- some of us wish to pursue further knowledge of the Depths, others want to eradicate the evils within, and some wish to protect Castle Light. In any case, there are wildcards like me who are very much fine in doing anything, so long as we don’t drag down the Diver name. So I kill my time by being the diplomat and negotiator between the Divers and The Authority. Recently, I’ve been seeing this Diver recruit more and more. I became interested in him at first because it dawned on me that the average Diver Apprentice at the age of (so he tells me) 19 should not be able to escape the Depths on their own, especially with the Deepbound’s Contract. By all means, they’re a normal Chrysid. What confuses me is their constant, almost “junkie” need to exit and reenter the Depths. It makes it impossible to set up the Black Diver initiation. Feldspar watched from a coral tree far up into the sky as Vin danced through the empty streets, keeping his clear blue gaze trained on the strange Chrysid. Tilting his head on a hand, his gaze wandered over to the Watchers. Even he was unsure of their origin. Ah, I’ve been slacking on my readings. Maybe I should follow Vin, and make a visit to Markor. Oh, Markor! Their grand libraries… Feldspar’s eyes unfocused and became wider as he started to daydream. At first, I was shocked to see the massive marble and gold architecture- even my soft footsteps would echo in the halls as I danced around, spinning through aisle after aisle… the Libraries seemed quite small on the outside, but it seems an enchantment or a veil of sorts was placed upon these libraries to extend its size. An endless spiral, floor after floor of Central Luminant architecture and the pale moonlight shining through the large stained glass panes on the back wall… it was all very interesting at first sight. I, myself, had never entered one of Markor’s libraries before. Now I find myself drawn to them, even whilst performing my duties as a Diver. Oh, wait, what was I supposed to… right, right, the Chrysid…
Diver Apprentice Vin Iksatoka - The City of the Drowned [Lawless Territory of Lost Celtor]
I didn’t know I was being followed. By one of my superiors, of course… Oh well. It turned out it was only Feldspar. I knew immediately because of his figure and the Black Diver uniform sagged. He’s not the stealthiest Black Diver, nor the most serious, for he’s constantly being mistaken for “emotional support” had he not worn the Black Diver’s uniform. People constantly trip over him, unable to detect him from that large hat of his- and his abnormal behavior. But he and I are the same. We simply know more than we let on, so when that day comes, we will keep our heads down and pray. And, even no- is he sleeping? Vin stared in disbelief until Feldspar woke up of his own accord, where Vin stared for a moment in an awkward silence.
“...”
Black Diver Feldspar Etude - The City of the Drowned [Lawless Territory of Lost Celtor]
Huh, well sh*t. Guess I’ll have to go. Feldspar adjusted his hat and glasses and hopped off the tree. Sliding down a nearby wall into a pile of sand, he dusted off the Black Diver and looked around for the main entrance.
But…
Aside from the normal smell of iron, salt, and the occasional rotting bodies of the Celtor Guards, there was something off in the area. He closed his eyes and slammed his staff to the floor, sending out vibrations that scanned his surroundings. Inhaling, he prepared to enter into an advanced form of the Song, called a Murmur. Feldspar suspected they were derived from human emotion- Ardour for the strong willed and powerful, Tacet for those who preferred to fade into obscurity, and Rhythm for those who became one with the world, an empath that shares the same misery as others. He had heard of a select few in stories who could wield all three Murmurs, and obtained great power through means of a Soul-tied Oath.
Rhythm!
Rhythm is extremely useful when trying to locate someone- even more so when paired with Rhythm: Heartbeat Sensor. This talent allowed Feldspar to traverse any geographical strain where the normal human would have struggled. And it was the same practice here, sending out vibrations, where he was able to “see” what others could not. Because unlike others, who depended on sight, Feldspar was blinded by a Megalodaunt’s Coral Spear. They shred through his eyes when he was a Diver Initiate under watch by Black Divers, and went on leave for a few years as they extracted him to Markor. Despite popular belief, he returned, strangely more powerful than he was before. And that same sensation of power that stemmed from many of the strongest now came from him- an Oath.
The vibrations came back to him, creating a map to work with. Nothing out of the ordinary, with the exception of the Mudskipper Brute’s nest twenty meters in front of him with absolutely no cover in between. With a small, over excited smile, Feldspar’s veins bulged as he pulled down his blindfold. The ground shook, and a mangy purple abomination of the Song erupted from the ground. Exuding a second aura of purple light, the Mudskipper Brute roared, raising mudskippers from the ground. Keeping his stance of pride, Feldspar’s sight returned to him as the All-Seeing Eye of the Blindseer made its mark over his face. The edges of his face tightened in a wide grin. Perhaps this can be Initiate Iksatoka’s Black Diver test.
Diver Apprentice Vin Iksatoka - The City of the Drowned [Lawless Territory of Lost Celtor]
Huh?
Vin cleared out his ears with his pinky finger.
How strange. I could’ve sworn I heard something.
He flicked off some earwax before coming to a stop, looking at the palm of his hand.
Wait, that is something.
He quickly turned his head to react- and found a fist aimed right at his face. Feeling the punch connect, he felt an electrifying shock surge through his body. Adrenaline immediately pumped into his veins as his head snapped back into place and he straightened his back, looking up into a second punch across his face. Spitting, he tried to kick his assailant away to make distance- but found his leg slipping off the slimy muscle legs. Losing balance, he felt a third punch connect with his gut, which shocked him wide awake. He was going to die if he didn’t do anything. The clues was already set in place. He was facing one of the most dangerous monsters of the Depths- the intelligent Nautiodaunt. Channeling the Song, he vented off the Nautilodaunt and entered a fighting stance.
Move! Think! Your life is in da-
“Huh?”
Vin found himself hurtling through the air as a stomp of electrifying geysers erupted from the Nautilodaunt’s Grand Stomp.
Gods Below! Forget this- I’ll destroy it with a single slash!
Vin wiped his bloodied face and tried to focus as he started to drop down.
In the Depths, every monster has the chance to mutate, or as we know it, Corrupt. Any monster can be corrupted, and when they are, they become three times as hard to kill and pack a punch able to bring down a King Thresher by itself. In fact, not only was Vin struggling to get a clear view of the Nautilodaunt he was fighting, he was also fighting at double the difficulty than the normal bar. Monsters he read about in only books was now coming after him. There wasn’t time to gather thoughts- he already heard the bells ring in his head as he imagined his death. The Song, unleashed in true form, spoke and crippled his mind as he slid off a wall and straightened his nose with one hand.
Lacrimosa Dies Illa. A title from the Cantaclysm to describe the Great Drowning. The Song just knows how to fit any situation, huh?
9.
Soul Shard
Grabbing the grip on his back, he prepared a slash as the Nautilodaunt charged at him. Kicking off the wall, he drew the greatsword at full force, bringing a slam forwards that obliterated the Nautilodaunt’s guard. The Nautilodaunt gurgled and backed off to raise its guard against him. Onslaught. It caught it off guard- good. It’s extremely convenient that the Nautiloldaunt are smart- otherwise it would’ve kept coming. From his deep stance, he rushed forwards with his shoulder, parting the bubbles in the air as he slammed into the Nautilodaunt. Feeling its guard crushing against his weight again, he felt slightly relieved from when he was initially brutally beaten by it. So much for one slash, he thought. From the depths of his soul, his blade ignited and glowed a bright purple as he swiped his Markor’s Inheritor through the Nautilodaunt. Its headless body crashed to the floor and dissipated to dust- leaving behind its Beak. Looking back, his eyes glowed a light purple as his cheekbones tilted upwards in a twisted smile. For a corrupted Fury… it was obscenely weak. He chuckled as the last bits of its body faded away, holding a hand to his mouth as he repressed a gag reflex. Spitting out a translucent purple splot of blood, he felt the creeping Soul in him yearn for more.
Vin’s Soul was currently at battle with an external one- an ancient Lost Soul that he suspected to be from the Old World. It constantly screamed in agony, crying about starving to Vin, asking when the next time another monster would be slain. He was still getting used to it- for since his escape from the Second Layer (assisted by Black Divers Alexander Hasteshi [“Call me Alex, would ya?”] and Umbra Ixatet) he had kept secret of the Relic he found in the parasitic snow. An hourglass with a purple hue- seeming almost ready to crack at any moment. The sinister voice within seeped to a second face of joy with the turn of the hourglass- it was all very peculiar. It seemed the purple smoke that slammed against the glass walls around it was trying to escape from a mental, prison-like state. Instinctively, Vin theorized that the hourglass was the result of a twisted scientist Shadowcaster who wanted to dive into the area of the Soul- and see what mental challenges he could bring it. Surely this vengeful spirit was the result of their inhumane experiments. The purple shade and the change in color to black as he turned the glass all pointed to the work of the Ministry. So, the Ministry existed even back then, huh?
Unfortunately for Vin, he would later accidentally crack the hourglass open when a Bounder had smashed him into the walls of the Ethironial Shrine. The purple smoke within howled as it encircled Vin in a ball of smoke- an overwhelming feeling of suffocation wrought upon him as it rushed into his body from every pore. The hourglass was gone, and he felt his mind go blank as a swirling distortion of reality brought him to a blank space. An innate reality of the Soul- and he had felt the chilling fear of the new one inside him. While Vin’s was fairly basic, just a monochrome white void- he felt his mind collapse as he stared at the invader’s Soul- other worlds, a vast universe, and otherworldly beings Vin instinctively knew were the Drowned Gods and the Celestials. He was now just a piece to be dragged across the board. The initial transfusion of Souls allowed him to see the world in all capacity- the Soul guiding his blade mercilessly through the Bounder’s jaw.
He had woken up in a cold sweat on the Surface in Markor Citadel to the two awaiting Black Divers, his eyes returning from a deep purple back to its regular green. They had explained to him that they had rescued him from the Second Layer- and that he was free to return to Diver duties if he wanted to. He admired both Crow and Umbra- so out of respect for their efforts he returned to Scyphozia. But since then, he felt his strikes had more power behind them, as if the monsters he killed empowered the Soul within. Perhaps this was its show of gratitude, for all the monsters Vin gave to it to sustain itself. In any case, his fellow Divers felt a tad bit disgusted or sick at the sight of Vin gorging himself on a Gigamed or a Crustaceous Rex. He just stifled his embarrassment as the Soul cackled in delight.
But now, small fry such as the typical denizens of Scyphozia were no longer enough to satiate the Soul. It was growing, just like him. Conforming itself into his body, intertwining its thoughts with his. Vin thought back to a book in the Markor Libraries as he rummaged through the large chest the Nautilodaunt had left behind. It was written by the same author of “Vows by the Sea: Inheritance,” and covered the topic of “Paired Soul.” Basically, two twins born at the right time under Starlight are bestowed either blessings or curses depending on the Celestial that lay claim to their birth. These blessings (or curses) would strengthen the bond between the twins, and as a side effect have their consciousness and senses intertwine at close proximity. This was a cruder form, more artificial. It was forced upon Vin by a Relic of the Deep, and he still had no idea what the Soul that was inside the hourglass wanted. Whenever he peered into its consciousness, it was a garbled mess. The primary thought was to find food, of course. Perhaps they had just lost their mind for being trapped for so long.
Ahh.
Vin jumped, shooting a glance behind him and heightening his senses. Hearing things again?
No.
Where is that coming from? Who are you?
That was exceptional. I hope you can find me a better snack later. But, for now…
A deep sigh trembled through Vin’s head, as if the one talking was severely lacking in sleep.
That monster you hunted was enough for me to start thinking clearly. So, do tell me, what is your name? And skip anything extra, thank you. After all, I suppose I do owe you for freeing me and nursing me back from the dead- though it took longer than expected, given I had already granted you power before.
It’s… Vin Iksatoka.
A Chrysid? I’m surprised your kind isn’t wiped off the face of Lumen. No matter at all, I am not my people. I will let you inherit my Soul. A Trial by Fire. Endure what happens next, and my gift, and me- are yours to use.
Will you accept?
Will I be able to later?
Later? I suppose so. It will always be open- until I retrieve a body of my own.
Then, I’d like to ask- what is this “trial by fire?”
I will bring your physical body to my innate consciousness. And I will have you endure pain. Resist, emerge, reforged, born anew- and return with the knowledge of the Stars. You may die. Indeed, many have died, in the pursuit of power. But should one succeed… even I don’t know, considering I am here talking to you.
Maybe later, then. I will grow stronger to face this trial.
You are wiser than the past generations. HAH! But still foolish enough to even consider it.
…You were first to ask, but fine.
Black Diver Feldspar Etude - The City of the Drowned [Lawless Territory of Lost Celtor]
sh*t, I lost Vin! Rhythm is on cooldown, and I felt his presence drifting further away as I was fighting that Broodlord!
Feldspar dashed down the cobbled streets of Celtor, keeping his hat low as he leaned forwards in a full sprint. Slamming the ground again with his cane, he heard the returning zing of another human nearby. The steady drumbeat of Vin, and… a second heartbeat. He froze. The pair’s hearts were out of sync, but undoubtedly they were in the same body. Feldspar had witnessed such an irregularity before. An artificial recreation of the Paired Soul, where a sealed Vengeful Spirit grants immense power to its vessel. A Relic of the Deep known as a “Soul Shard,” notorious in killing and overtaking its vessel in purple flame. Feldspar skidded to a stop and rubbed his temples. Focusing, he called out to report Vin’s Black Diver recruitment status. Unlike most other vessels, Vin was completely disassociated from his Soul, caused by his poor mental state. Which meant he could harness the Soul Shard to its fullest.
Klaris, Mother of Lights.
Pick up! Pick up!
10.
The Condemned Soul, Drowned Light
Swimming in endless eternity, The Drowned Light found himself yet again warping back to his original place in the Second Layer, a tranquil lake before him in an alien terrain. Alone, trapped just like the Kyrsians that inhabited the City under the Mist.
How many recursions is this? At this moment in time, if the concept of time is even tangible here, it seems the cycle has repeated again. But…
The Drowned Light looked around on the stone, rocking back and forth in a sitting position.
It seems the recursion has happened earlier. Meaning someone else has entered the Second Layer.
Looking at the exit gate in the small pond, The Drowned Light thought about the possibility of escape this cycle around. The Mist Presence and the time loop were effects made by being in close proximity to the Scion- Ethiron’s Scion. That shell seemed to the Drowned Light was pointless- but now he saw. The brilliant Kyrsian people, under affect by a byproduct of the Scion, was dazed into hypnotic sleep, and laid dormant until around two centuries ago. Soaring through the mist above, Drills slammed into the ground of New Kyrsa. The Surface dwellers, unaware of what they had entered, had perished at the hands of the Kyrsguard. At short notice, their inactivity was replaced by luminescent glares of red, blue, and white. Their slow and lumbering movements, sloppy as it was, wrought destruction against the initial Surface contact. Since then, The Drowned Light had witnessed a large mass of people attempting to enter and exploit the Second Layer. His mind wandered back to the situation he was in, and the two centuries that had passed since a possible escape route was introduced to him. However, there were many limiting factors, such as the Time Loop, the Mist Presence, Ethiron’s Wake, and the most immediate threat, The Scion of Ethiron. The Drowned Light had not tried to go up against the Scion- for he was not arrogant enough to go up against even the slightest bit of a Drowned God’s power. Many strategies were planned out in these lake waters. First always came what he knew about the source itself: Ethiron.
Ethiron, the Drowned God of Wind and Pressure. Even his title commands power- uttering the name without the proper power nor fervor behind its incantation will blast the one trying to call upon him into pieces to be scattered in the wind. Attuned to the Song so pure, attaining a primal version that transcends even the Old World- blasting away armies at a moment’s notice. The Drowned Light knew that the Awakening of Ethiron, nay, any Drowned God, would bring about the end of existence in a flash, each in their own way. Not even of malicious intent, simply because their existence upon the thin line of reality and time is too heavy to support. One small motion, cosmos above the stars are destroyed in an instant. The Drowned Light lost himself in thought, staring intensely at the waters before him. He suspected that the Drowned Gods were not actually of this world, nor this reality. Since the Song was a separate entity from the Drowned Gods, he believed it implied that the Drowned Gods were in fact, dimensional overlords that competed for energy. At the most primal level of analysis, it is always about energy. The Drowned Gods just found theirs in the form of the Song, an unbridled, limitless source of energy. Just some became attached to the world they were leeching off of. He shoved off his theory- but kept it in the back of his mind. It was a good idea to expand upon, and researchers of the Old World struggled to make sense of the Drowned Gods in any case.
Looking up from his trance, he found himself face-to-face with a strange looking surface dweller. The Drowned Light’s lips parted in slight shock, before quickly recomposing himself and clearing his throat. With a croaking voice, Kaide speaks his first words in a millennium.
“Who are you?”
11.
Halcyon
Twelve Hours Before Operation Artificial Sun
After Halcyon had helped the Vigil Guard clean up the mess inside the Temple of the Blade, he gave his parting goodbyes to Sergei and Oki, Ignition Union ships docking on the beaches of the Isle to ensure the Temple’s security at the request of Halcyon. The second Voidwalker who carried their supposed brother was already gone by then- disappearing into the Voideye. Halcyon knew Sergei was trying not to think of their screams and sobs as they carried the body on their back and tripping up the stairs. They shared a moment of comfort as Halcyon directed Ignition Footsoldiers around the Temple of the Blade.
“You stay safe, Sergei. Those Voidwalkers aren't the type to pity for long.” Patting each other’s back, the pair waved their goodbyes as Oki hung from the rafters, eyeing the Footsoldiers.
“Right back at you.”
At least Halcyon walked with a purpose, unlike Sergei, who’s base was shaken by the display of emotions made by the Chrysid. Perhaps it was time to exit the (relative) safety of the Temple and explore the seas of Lumen. A strange sense of motivation to act went through Sergei- but Halcyon had already explained to him to expect this feeling, and to not be shaken from his path as a Vigil Guard. And while neither of them were particularly close, Halcyon being the hard worker he was, Sergei felt comforted by his words and actions. So he just silently followed Halcyon to the pier, walking side by side. Neither person spoke, but a wordless interaction brought out both of their stories to each other. Sergei would go through the motions, waving goodbye a final time as he saw Halcyon’s ship turn into a speck on the horizon.
Nine Hours Before Operation Artificial Sun
“Alright, listen up!” Halcyon blasted his voice across the new recruitments situated on the docks of Miner’s Landing, the Ignition Union’s pride that featured centuries of research and development.
“All of you have, at least I hope, passed initiation with flying colors. This does not mean you get to slack off now that you’re here! Many of you will not pass this next stage!”
Deepdelver Astra leaned on the wall in the background, watching Halcyon deal with the new recruits. Although he didn’t show it, he was extremely nervous. She could tell because he was rubbing his thumb against his index finger with his resting hand- and some other niche details that made it hard for her to pay attention to the speech he was giving. Unlike the new recruits, she thought of Halcyon more like a meek little brother, rather than an intimidating authoritative figure (even though he was).
“This next stage, unlike initiation, is separated into two groups! If you would look to your left-” Halcyon gestured to a ticket booth with a Canor inside, who had his head leaning on an elbow with a tired look. “That is Deepdelver Helsen, and you will refer to him as such unless specified otherwise.”
Crow Helsen looked across the crowd with sharp eyes, before returning to drawing lines on the counter table with his fingers.
“Call me Crow. Halcyon’s being a little stingy with honorifics.”
Halcyon felt his throat dry as he motioned to clear it. “As I was saying, initiation is divided into two groups.” Aw, f*ck… my voice is already octaves lower.
He took a moment to calm his nerves. Despite all his accomplishments, he was always “dogsh*t at public speaking.”
“You can apply with Crow to either be in the Footsoldier Division or as a researcher in the R&D Division. I am the overseer for those who want to apply for the Footsoldier position while Deepdelver Kamali-” He gestured behind him, to the Tiran who absentmindedly twirled her hair-
“Is overseer for those who wish to apply for R&D. To make things more efficient I have prepared a synopsis of what both entail, and yes, you can enter both- but it is not recommended.”
Astra butted in- “Call me Astra, by the way.”
Clearing his throat the third time, spinning slightly to silently stare at Astra for a few moments (who cackled silently and slapped her knee), he produced some papers from his back pocket.
“Ignition Footsoldiers are the strategic backbone of the Union- while we are not a combative force, we ask that Footsoldiers be prepared to face monsters in both the Surface, even here, and the Depths, for more experienced soldiers. Prove your worth, and you will be rewarded! Protect your brothers in arms!”
Halcyon tossed the second paper at Astra, who caught it squarely and took his place on the temporary podium.
“Hello all my people! I’m Astra Kamali, and I’m the overseer to…”
Halcyon walked off into the Landing’s center, away from the crowd.
Three Hours Before Operation Artificial Sun
“So, long day, eh? Or you’d just rather not talk to a crowd again.”
Deepdelver Hasteshi kicked his legs up on the table, chugging a tankard of ale. The crimson sunset soared in the horizon, its glint reflecting across the steady pale red eyes of Solaire. Halcyon sat stiffly with his own tankard, reflecting back on the day.
“Bit of both, I suppose.” He exhaled, leaning over and also beginning to sip from his ale. “When are the rest arriving?”
Deepdelvers Halcyon and Solaire looked at the door and their surroundings, a round, oak table in the center with a map of the Second Layer plastered upon it. Up front was a board- that read in red blocky letters “Operation Artificial Sun” with more circles around it than necessary. The incessant ticking of the clock reached the meeting time, 2200 hours. An awkward silence passed before Solaire straightened his position and dragged the P.A from the center of the table.
Beep! Beep!
A rough mechanical voice rang in the stronghold of Miner’s Landing.
“Hello? This thing on? Ah, ok, testing, one, two, three, she sells seashells by the seas-” Halcyon interrupted, saying to “Just make the damn announcement, Solaire.”
“Ok, ok, I was just testing to see if this th- hic- thing worked properly.” Flicking the microphone (that made a whining noise that made all the Canor, Felinor, and Chrysids near the speakers groan and pull on their ears), Solaire lifted the paper he was to announce.
“Deepdelvers Hasteshi, oh hey, that’s me! Ehe… Kamali, Bykof, Eko, and Helsen to Deepdelver central planning operations room four, thank youuuu~!”
Hasteshi slammed the P.A onto its dock, purring gleefully. Halcyon side eyed him, looked down to stir his ale and looked back without skipping a beat. “Just how much have you drank to add a little purr to every sentence you speak?”
Hasteshi, with widened eyes, pointed at himself. “Moi?” He looked down at the tankards that spilled on the floor and surrounded his immediate area. “Oh, well, I guess like, two tanka- BWAHAHAHA YOUR FACE- oh sh*t-”
Halcyon was eyeing the liquor spilled across the map of the Second Layer. Sipping from his own tankard and kicking his boots on the table, he shrugged. “Better get sober soon. Op starts in three hours. Maybe visit the latrines while you’re at it- get that ale out of your system. And get a map on your way back. Oh, and a mop-”
“Alright, alright, enough with the list! Damn!” Solaire stumbled out the door, flashing his middle finger on his way out.
***
“OK team, listen up!” Solaire turned off the light and switched on the center lamp, illuminating the map of the Second Layer and the board up front. Halcyon rested his gaze at the layout before him, slouching into his chair. Astra and Dawn continued their hushed conversation as Helsen straightened his back to look at Solaire, who took a deep breath and cleared his throat.
“Right, so, if you would look in front of you, there is a map and a dossier to the Second Layer. If you looked at it preemptively, good for you! If not, err, well, ask Astra for a synopsis or something. She memorizes this sort of thing. So!”
Solaire scratched his pointed ears as he flipped through his copy of the dossier. Closing it and leaving it to slam onto the side pocket of the board, he picked up a pointer and clicked at the title (that was written there one and a half hours ago by Solaire).
“Project Artificial Sun. Cool name, right? Because I made it!” He pointed at himself as Helsen stiffly clapped.
“Eh? Eh? What you think of that? Alright, fine, cool name aside (it wasn’t.), this operation is meant to replace the conventional generator that’s already existing in the Second Layer and replace it with this new one, powered by Kyrsian Medallions. Which is where the sun part of the title comes up!-”
A collective groan from the Deepdelvers as Solaire tried to defend his title (he really couldn’t and ended up laughing with them)
“Alright, alright, in any case, we’re facing the same threats as before, and your equipment is already stored in your lockers in the Chariot’s Spire. Just making sure everyone requested a Wormwarder Lantern and a pair of Delver Boots from Command, yeah? Yeah? Good. Those will combat the parasites in the snowstorms and keep you steady while on the Shrine, respectfully. This is the path we’ll follow. This is where you all need to pay attention here.”
Clicking a switch in his hand, the map on the table lit up, highlighting from the drop point to the generator and to the Frontier Furnace, the forward Ignition Base in the Second Layer. Everyone turned their attention to it, with the exception of Dawn Eko, who had to climb on top of the table to see clearly. Halcyon looked at Dawn and frowned a bit disapprovingly. He knew the Union employed children (such as Epsi in the Second Layer), but to put one in such a dangerous job like the Deepdelver, now he was worried and dubious about the safety of Dawn. Deep down though, he knew Dawn could handle himself just like the rest of them, unlike his own aging body. He was turning twenty six. Twenty six! He lamented. I might as well be living in Etris with a family and a stable job at the blacksmith at this point!
Alas, his own pride and sense of duty would not permit this. He refocused on the map, completely missing Solaire’s explanation on how to install the new generator.
“And then after the boot up sequence, confirm with the interface and extract to Scyphozia after getting into contact with the Frontier Furnace. All in a day's work, and we’ll be back by the morning!”
Solaire switched on the lights as everyone got up. Halcyon looked at them leave before sitting up, sighing, and motioning for Solaire to follow him. He heard Helsen’s roar of authority from outside.
“Ready up! We’re on Green! Prepare to depart to Scyphozia in pods one, two, three, four, five! Move! It’s 0220 hours! Ten minutes to Operation! Move!”
12.
Operation Artificial Sun
The Five Deepdelvers sat in a circle in the Deepdrill at the center of the Chariot’s Spire, waiting for the drop. Murmurs in the back as scientists and technicians clambered ready to launch operation on time died down as the main sequence started. They were piercing a hole through the Depths. This was something only the Union were insane enough to do and do so well- but there was always a slight margin of error that could result in catastrophic results. Dawn kicked his legs as the Deepdelvers stared at their laps.
“Base.” A crisp woman’s voice was doing a final checkup.
“Go.” Came the radio’s reply.
“Primary Grid Current.”
“370,000 Volts. Go.”
“Secondary Radioisotopic Generator.”
“Sealed. No chance of it cracking. Go.”
“Seals.”
“All seals confirmed. Structural stability checked twice. Go.”
“Pilots.”
“Go.” The mix of voices came from inside the Deepdrill.
“Elevator.”
“Go.”
“Radio.”
“Go.”
“Temperature and insulation.”
“Go.”
“Cargo.”
“Go.”
“High Command, This is Deepdelver Artemis Juno. Operation Artificial Sun is underway in T-minus five.”
“Copy.”
“Four.”
“Three. Grid initiation.”
“Initiated!”
The Drill came to life with a roar, rotating upside down to prepare for the descent. The drill itself began to turn, creating a steady hum.
“Two.”
“One.”
Astra gripped Helsen’s hand tightly as Dawn stopped kicking his legs and grit his teeth. Solaire and Halcyon hardened their eyes as they stared down at the window under them, the murky depths beckoning their arrival to the Second Layer.
“Drop!”
Ka-chung!
“Reaching sub zero altitudes… cutoff in three, two, one…”
The blip on Deepdelver Artemis’s screen disappeared. The team had entered the Second Layer.
“Record time, 0234 Hours. Artificial Sun is now in operation.”
***
The Second Layer. Also known as the Eternal Gale, this entire layer is prone to the power of its residing Drowned God Ethiron- where harsh winds blow, parasitic eggs incubate on flesh, and cataclysmic time incongruity disorients the mind. All of these environmental shifts are what make the Layer so dangerous- not including its resident monsters. The Deepdrill, having torn through the ceiling of the Layer into the snow, popped open with Halcyon’s backfist. The door skidded off as a ramp descended onto the uneven snow. Each Deepdelver was quick to exit the Drill- its main point was to just get the team down. Then it would implode after a set duration to prevent the Divers from stealing their tech. Halcyon counted in his head as the wind picked up, helping his teammates out of the drill. Kamali, Helsen, Hasteshi, Eko.
All of them had equipped themselves with the latest in Union tech. Goggles with multiple toggles, boots, lanterns, and the iron-clad warmth of the Ignition Deepdelver uniform. Strapping his Railblade to his back with a gloved hand, Halcyon motioned for the team to the top of the Drill, where the parts needed for the new generator’s assembly were needed.
Unlike the initial mission to install the first generator, this was simply a requirement of installing new parts and feeding it a new power source. There was no large-scale heavy duty needed- so the team was able to move fast. Throwing off the top of the drill, Solaire tossed each Deepdelver a bag which they slung around their shoulders. Crow carried two, as Dawn wasn’t strong enough on his own to move freely while carrying a bag. The team snapped their goggles onto place as Halcyon brought them through the storm. Not a single one spoke. There were no entertaining factors as they trudged through the snow, nor a single word. All their gazes were hardened at entering the Second Layer. Halcyon himself was light headed- as if his entire existence was telling him he was stranded in an unfamiliar place with no aid. But he trudged forwards, pointing at the direction they needed to go, guided by the virtual map on his arm clasp. If need be, he could contact the team through their arm bands.
Trudging through the snow and burning off parasites repeatedly was enough to chill the team’s nerves- and the drop zone was unforgiving in its terrain. They were lucky to not nail one of the mountains that surrounded them- rather in the center of a clearing. The storm cleared, revealing the grand, desolate architecture on the horizon.
Work now, sightseeing later. Halcyon instructed through the team. After a few moments of walking, the team arrived at the zone they were supposed to arrive in with a flare and paint that marked X at the site. There, the remaining components were left untouched by the wind and snow in boxes. Forming a human shield around them, they quickly stuffed the precious electronics and Medallions into the bags to protect them from the snow. Then they split up to gain the key to the Ethironinal Shrine- finally taking a moment to rest in the Gatehouse.
“So how are we feeling?” Solaire took off his scarf, goggles, and headgear, panting. The rest did the same and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Clear the Gatehouse.” Halcyon nodded at Crow’s request, sliding down the ramp to see a nearly dead Diver Apprentice leaning against the wall.
“Oh, come on…” Halcyon muttered under his breath. His teammates wouldn’t like this, but he hated seeing people die pointlessly. If he could just bring the apprentice with him and get them to the Furnace…
But the policy was clear. The Ignition Union has nothing to give to the Divers. They were the Union’s competition. And Halcyon would just have to bite his tongue over the pointless end to that Diver’s story. Seeing the slim, black hands, ensnare the body and dragging it into the floor, he felt a pang of agony as he watched them disappear, fragmented. It was better than having to become a husk, most certainly.
“Clear.” He hated how his voice was unwavering in its pronunciation. Marching back up the ramp, the other Deepdelvers were discussing the next stage and leaning against the wall. Crow had his arms crossed, nodding at Halcyon, who flopped on the floor and stared at his boots, sighing as he tore off his goggles and scarf. Astra and Dawn continued their quiet conversation, going over the map and predicting Bounder nests and parasite pits. Solaire walked up to the pair, confirmed something quietly, and cleared his throat.
“We’re halfway there. It seems that the Wormwarder Lanterns are halfway through its expiration already due to protecting us that long from the margin of error for distance when we dropped. Which means we’ll have to do this next part double time. So we’ll have to take a shortcut here-”
He pointed at a point on the map, a small gap between two sections. It would shave off at least half a mile (who made this shrine?) of walking. “And jump over the Furnace to actually profit off of the distance we cut off. We good on that?”
Seeing the nods on everyone’s heads, he wrapped up the map and handed it to Astra, who stuffed it in her back pocket. Putting their gear back on, the team prepared to exit the Gatehouse.
13.
The Ethironial Shrine Sanctuary
The winds here were much less harsher than the ones in the mountains- while the wind there sounded like the cries of the Drowned, this one sounded a serene, but just as strong tempest. Executing the maneuver, Astra caught Dawn’s hand as he jumped across the gap, the others already climbing up the ladders provided.
Facing the winds again and jumping over another short gap (seriously who made this thing) the team slid down to an intersection.
The left goes to the nearby Ignition Respite. Forwards is our objective. If anyone wants to, they can go clear their parasites before the final part of the mission is executed.
We’re fine.
Good. Keep moving.
Trudging through the final lane, the team entered a room with a pit of parasite eggs.
Don’t fall in. It’ll be a gruesome sight.
Halcyon hugged the wall as he evaded the pit. Inching forwards, he-
“Halcyon!”
The verbal warning made him jump. Adrenaline pumped into his veins as he looked around- up! A loose stalactite dropped down on him as he jumped back to his team- stepping into the pit as a result. Panicking, he yanked his boots out of the sticky eggs and torched it quickly with the lantern. Its final charge exhausted, the lantern went out with a poof. He nodded his head at Dawn, who’s steely eyes said an unspoken “thank you” for not dying. The second time, he cleared the ceiling, poking it with his Railblade and baiting out the fall. Afterwards, the team crossed onto a rickety bridge. Underneath was the thin layer of just Void. On either side of the bridge was a loose rope as a safeguard against the fall. (do I even need to say anything) Forwards was the chamber to where the Generator lied. Breathing a sigh of relief, Halcyon trudged forwards with his bag. But…
There was a barrier of ether that prevented further passage.
Huh?
Team, do you copy?
Copy.
There is a barrier of impenetrable ether that's blocking the path.
Come again?
There is a barrier that I can’t get through.
What do yo-
Then a massive hulking mess of bone and muscle slammed into Halcyon from above, smashing his back. He screamed and vented it off- whipping his face of disbelief around. The other Deepdelvers had already drawn their weapons and charged in, crying out in determination. A faceless configuration with claws that could break apart a human in one fell squeeze. They would spin, too. Shredding the mightiest armor with a turn of its wrist. Primal forms of clothing and the ability to create daggers and javelins of bone. This is what the Bone Keeper was described as since then.
Halcyon used his Railblade to steady himself as his hands reached for his back- the Deepdelver Armor torn and the touch warm with blood. Staunching it with his scarf, Halcyon stood up and ignored the pain. The creature was already slamming the floor, wrenching weapons away as it brutally crushed Crow’s armor (and possibly ribs) in a bloody grab. The other four were already channeling their Thundercall, slamming the creature with bolts and beams of lightning. Halcyon, who was pumped up and seething with anger, jumped behind the creature and slammed the Railblade down with its arching sweep, setting it on fire as it tore into itself to put it out. Getting up from his kneeling position, he channeled his Flamecharm and blasted a wave of fire from his hand before letting it rest on his Railblade. Surrounded by his fellow Deepdelvers who continued firing Thundercall at it, he charged forwards, dodging its rotating blades and slashing its back, keeping momentum and following with a second slash. Backing off and raising the blade in front of him defensively, he waited for its next move.
Good! No matter how powerful this thing is, that should have hurt it a little. With enough consistency I ca-
Halcyon’s eyes widened as the creature charged forwards just like he did, grabbed him, and dragged him across the rickety bridge before throwing him off the side.
“What the hell-” The words barely escaped his mouth before he realized he was falling to his death. His teammates' screams were barely heard over the sinister winds and mist that surrounded him, encasing his ears with the steady drumbeat of the Song. Gone were the chants of the Drowned- the Second Layer had reduced it to naught but frenzied screams.
14.
The New, Intertwined with the Old.
1512, Moon’s Eyrie, Voidsea Expedition UI001
Umbra stared upon the waters as the salty air transitioned to a grey monotone sky. Crossing into the Voidsea had some side effects, some including a warped sense of time and having a crippled line of sight. Hours of sailing and a few Lionfish later, she came across the target area as her tracker beeped. Sitting up, she took in the desolate isle and the shining light at the top. Popping her back and stretching, she made a visor with her hand and gauged how tall the stone structure was. Roughly, uhh… maybe the size of the Cathedral.
The ethereal mist that obscured the towering stones that twisted themselves to the sky reminded Umbra of the Second Layer. She was recently relocated from the efforts in the Second Layer to Voidsea Expeditions by order of the Markor Citadel, and she found it wonderous how the Drowned Gods still held power on the Surface of Lumen. Despite being asleep, clearly they had enough influence to create an island with such a Pure Song. Her tracker was beeping wildly from the frequencies emitted from the isle- meaning that this place had likely been formed in the Old World. After all, there wasn’t anything after the Tides that could match a vibrancy like the Song from here. The jagged stones were frozen in time, the waves calmly splashing against the grey beaches, dragging the sediment to the whirlpool below. Umbra kept climbing, jumping across chasms and blocking the wind with her arm, sputtering as her hair disrupted her sight. But still she felt the Song flow through the tower. It had created itself a vessel, an embryo within this place. And it had called to her initially as she sailed from the Diver Surface Station into the Voidsea. Dropping down onto a flatter platform, Umbra came across what seemed to be the most important part of the tower. Facing the stone doors bearing the mark of the Moonseye, Umbra watched them cave away to an arena. Inside, as if the Song itself had done so, ritualistic markings and patterns had adorned the floor, etched in stone. Dusting off her Black Diver, she took in her surroundings.
“Amazing…” She wondered. She reached out with a delicate touch to inspect the pale white pillars, keeping an eye on the exit. “As if it's overflowing with the Song. This…” She turned her head, looking at the ancient chambers. She sent out some of her own power through the pillars, shutting her eyes and connecting with the grid that the Song was flowing through. Raising her head, amazed, she exclaimed: “This is a birthplace. The Song is flowing to the center. Almost like a…” Umbra trailed off, realizing where she had felt the similarities before. A Grid. She hadn’t expected that. Grids were a relatively new concept in Songworking where users would harness the Song through a “Grid.” Running the Song through these grids was similar to the Ignition Union’s Thundercaller’s Electricity Grid, which powered their recent projects. It was introduced as a way for non Songworkers to enter the Workforce that fell under using the Song. Despite its recent introduction only three years ago, she failed to see how such a recent concept was found hidden away in the Voidsea that supposedly dated back to the Old World. Her gaze turned on the boulder in the center. At first she had suspected it had fallen from the low ceiling- for there were already piles of debris that littered the stone platform. But now that her suspicions were raised, she saw that wasn’t the case. The stale, unmoving air’s scent became more intense as her senses heightened and adrenaline started to pump in her system.
“But that means-!”
The arena rumbled. Umbra gasped and turned her head to the center. The Pillars gave way as the white lights it exuded flowed to the center. The boulder had become empowered with the Song! Umbra widened her eyes as she saw the boulder reconstructing itself into a Moon Knight, the warbling and crunch of stone as the Song gripped its vessel tightly piercing her ears. She winced, regaining her focus on the new target as she peeled her hands off her ears and reached for her sword. As the core began to glow and the Knight drew itself to its full height, Umbra’s shock turned to excitement. She grinned, straightened her back, and drew her Forgotten Gladius from its sheath. The silence was indeed becoming unbearable for her taste. Inhaling through her nose, she ignited her blade with a twisted fire, pointing the tip of the blade at the Knight with a firm grip. “This should be fun!”
The Moon Knight warbled and slammed the ground, pulling up a large boulder and throwing it. It seemed to be in its infant stage, seeing how it didn’t have its sword yet… rather than trying to ward off the intruder, it acted as if it was throwing a tantrum. Good, this should make it easier to kill. Slashing through the incoming boulder, she channeled the Song and rushed forwards as a shadow, slamming into the Knight and knocking it onto the floor. Dodging to the side to evade an incoming kick, she ran her blade down the Moon Knight’s leg and pivoted the blade as she charged forward to the core. Spinning rapidly, she used her momentum and breathed out to create two heavy slashes that crippled the Knight’s leg. Master’s Flourish. Very handy in any situation. She had initially learned Master’s Flourish in Markor in basic Diver training, but was able to hone it to its fullest effect as far as humanly possible. Backing off as the Knight rose again, she continued her thought process. In any case, it’s at least half as effective on the Knights. Most are made traditionally from sand and stone. It makes sense that a slashing attack wouldn’t be as effective rather than a blunt one. Which means, I have to resort to different methods.
Crouching, she slammed her hands together and focused a large greatsword of shadow into existence. Elemental and physical attacks are two separate things. However, Shade Bringer can be counted as both. Hopefully Moon Knights don’t have Shadow Resistances.
With great force, Umbra contested the overpower force between her and the Knight as she raised Shade Bringer to parry an incoming slam. The reverberating echoes of the clash made the arena tremble and dust to fall from the ceiling as her grin grew wider. Throwing the Moon Knight’s attack to the side, she brought Shade Bringer down in a vertical chop, causing it to warble and spill sand from its interior. Slamming and stumbling around the arena, the Moon Knight grabbed one of the Ether Pillars as its Core immediately started to fashion it into a weapon. The resulting blade was just as sharp as the finest Etrean Katana, and long enough to cut down armies. It warbled angrily as it sent a flying slash at Umbra, who was wide-eyed at how it managed to survive her initial attacks. Gritting her teeth as she was pushed back, she was able to turn the trajectory of the slash with great strain. Returning her posture to a neutral state, she narrowed her eyes in focus. It seemed the golden moment to kill the monster was already over. She played too much. Now the Moon Knight was at its full danger level with its Blade. Flexing her legs, she prepared to counterattack the Moon Knight, which immediately charged at her wildly swinging. Perhaps the golden moment isn’t over quite yet. Its mannerisms still imply childishness. Sheathing her blade and crouching, she kept her hand twitching to wait for the right moment. With an unblinking gaze in the face of death, she saw it- the Moon Knight’s erratic slashing exposed its shoulder to the core in its head. Flashing out of sight, she reappeared with a spinning hook kick to the Knight’s head. Capitalizing on its sudden lack of balance, she dug her blade deep into the core, feeling it crack under the pressure. She screamed in triumph as the Knight flailed, igniting her blade and setting the core on fire. Feeling the surge of energy displace from the center area, she retracted her blade and jumped off the Knight’s shoulder, landing on her feet and posing as its head imploded and its Sword fell to the ground in a loud thud. Man, I must look so badass right about now. I just know it.
15.
The World of the Waking and the World of the Drowned
“And that’s how I got here.”
Kaide listened to the Surface Dweller’s words, leaning on his hand on the stone surface. Blowing his hair out of the way, he lifted his nails for inspection as the Surface Dweller stood there in the water.
“Aren’t you going to get on the rock? Your boots are going to be soaked.”
They blinked, before sloshing out the waters and emptying their boots on the rock. Oh, and he had socks on, too… ugh… what’s wrong with this guy? Standing there for God knows how long, talking about the First Floor. Kaide silently covered his face with his hand, snickering as the quiet Celtor kneaded their feet and torched their boots.
“So how did you even survive the Mist Presence? Even better, how did you even get into New Kyrsa through the Void?”
Halcyon put his boots back on and stood up, splashing back into the water towards the gate located at the center of the pond.
“I’m not sure, but I’ll have to find a way out of here now. I’m not one to question things for too long.”
Interesting. You don’t question at all. How boring. What a flat character. Perfect to be taken advantage of.
Kaide stood up, facing the outsider sideways and extending his arm. A sinister form of regality came from his figure, the wind instinctively picking up to make his appearance more intimidating.
“Won’t you be so kind as to accept my assistance in such a matter? Based on what I know, you won’t be able to escape without killing Ethiron’s Scion, meaning…
You will have to take on a Drowned God’s creation.” Kaide gave a small smile that told Halcyon nothing. Certainly, a Lightborn from the Old World would be a wonderful asset to have at his disposal, but he definitely had a separate agenda.
“Only until we’re both out of this layer. Then we’ll have to part ways.” Halcyon turned back, walking up to accept Kaide’s proposal.
I wasn’t planning to become acquaintanced with a maggot like you. Kaide maintained his smile as they shook hands. His halo glew, just a little, from its dull grey to a faint violet.
“Then hold on tight. We’re going to blitz through the objectives of this Layer with my Lightkeep- you might throw up.”
Halcyon side eyed Kaide worryingly, opening his mouth to speak before he felt his body displace from the world and reappear in thin air, in the Outskirts of the City. A flash of light that nearly instantly transported them two clicks. The wind blew in the caverns as Kaide kept a pitiful gaze upon the City. Such a feat of architecture and culture, and it declined because of Ethiron. He turned his attention back to Halcyon, who was on all fours and throwing up.
Light has momentum, believe it or not. But, urgh- Halcyon gagged as he propped himself on one knee and picked himself up to look at Kaide, wiping his face. This Lightborn’s Lightkeep has such a high output that he was nearly instantly able to travel the speed of sound. How is that even possible? It felt like we just teleported, but no, my insides felt like they were about to rupture. No, it was sure to rip apart had he not protected me with a secondary spell. He skipped over two casting rituals and instantly cast Mantras with a high output. What kind of monsters were the Old World, and what secrets were lost… Kaide looked at him, standing near a pillar. Patting the side, he started to speak as Halcyon trudged forwards to listen.
“This is an obelisk. It is one of five in the Second Floor, and together, they keep the Second Floor stable in its anomalous time field, preventing distortion and infinite time loops. They also seal away the gate to the Scion of Ethiron’s bedchambers, and are our main priority to escape. We, ourselves, are already in a time loop. The moment you entered, you became a part of it too. The only way to destabilize it is to catch the timing of a Diver Expedition and get to their Light Hook while the time loop destabilizes after the Scion is killed. Of course, that has never happened before. At least not that I’m aware of, at least.”
Kaide bent down and clicked the button, illuminating the obelisk with a sky blue.
“Your job is to wait at the gate entrance, and wait for the barrier to disappear. Clear the area of Kyrsians, lure them away. You won’t survive an encounter with a Kyrsian battalion.” Kaide bent his knees, facing the Sleeping City. “But, do me a favor. If you come across a Kyrsian kid who can coherently talk, bring him with you to Ethiron’s bedchambers. I need him for later.”
In a flash of Light, Halcyon felt himself back in the city as he felt his hands palming the floor a second time, puking.
“f*ck, I’ll never get used to that…”
***
The Grand Libraries of New Kyrsa. Endless knowledge, open to all Kyrsian. Not a single connection can be made to the Surface. Nor competition. The silent halls, a maze of knowledge. An art in itself to navigate through it, it stands as the pride of Kyrsian civilization. Our entire political system is based on it- and is a social hierarchy dependent on the knowledge of a Kyrsian, separated into categories called PIllars. At the highest level, the Pillar of Enlightenment, stands the High Scholar of New Kyrsa. Under that is the Pillar of Ascension, those who serve under the High Scholar in hopes to inherit the title. Under is the Pillars of Artistry, where the mass majority of Kyrsians reside. They have access to the Grand Libraries and are the artisans of the city. Not a single Kyrsian in all history was unable to grasp what humans thought as “Citadel level curriculum” that was perceived as the bare minimum in New Kyrsa.
Hmm.
Actually, I lied. The Pillar of Enlightenment is the second highest, with the first being the Messenger. The Scion, I mean. Ethiron has also been a big factor in our culture, but the Kyrsian way of knowledge had long since existed before his appearance.
Aero sat on the floor in the library, a paper and a few broken quills in between his legs. He leaned forwards, bending his back and sighing before leaning back and staring at the ceiling. He felt the cloak a stranger had given him had become a little smaller than before; he could walk without tripping every few steps now. He glanced back at the sorry paper on the floor and looked around, his gaze resting on a nearby lamp that reflected his image. Brilliant, starry eyes of a purple universe. Sleek, almost shiny black skin. Long, flowing black hair that transformed to a dark purple at the ends, and natural tattoos of Kyrsian history that had a silver hue were engraved into his body- Aero was by all means not a normal Kyrsian. (Kaide suspected there was some twisted interspecies procreation at play, though he was proved wrong by Aero after he explained possible anomalous bodies caused by the Song and Ethiron, his being one of them) Rather, he was cursed with knowledge. Knowing everything there is to know in all existence. Recalling memories of the High Scholars of old through his tattoos. Shaping them into existence, into weapons, maps, models, and the result of his situation…
Aero leaned back on his arms and cried quietly at nobody in particular.
“Aaaaaaaaa… It’s so boring… and I’m hungry again…”
It just so happened to be that Aero was the last remaining High Scholar of New Kyrsa.
16.
The Moonlit Prince’s Heir
Umbra awoke in a cold sweat. The last thing she remembered was going into an expedition in the Voidsea, but now she was immobilized in a bed somewhere, with a burning sensation spreading across half her body. Struggling to look down, she found her neck was encased in a brace and the most she could be was her toes and fingers. She tried looking side to side. No problems there. Judging from the ceiling and the furniture, she was in one of Markor’s hospital wards. She sniffed, the putrid stench of the Voidsea’s waters still apparent on her body. Gagging, she rethought how long she was positioned there.
It can’t have been more than more than a few hours since I was pulled from the Voidsea. What the hell happened? I was… on an island, I think. Some new isle that popped up and Markor wanted someone to check it out.
The door opened, and a middle aged Tiran walked in briskly holding a clipboard and wearing sharp eyeglasses and a white coat. Next to him was a Ganymede wearing strange ornaments and clothing, holding a staff with a skull mounted on top. They seemed to be a doctor and a shaman, two scientists of different categories that constantly waged a war on knowledge against each other. However they seemed to be conversing deeply, immersed in what apparently happened to Umbra.
“Those burns were white. I’ve already measured the temperature, a stark 2,400 degrees fahrenheit. It’s a miracle her entire body didn’t burn up and shrivel into nothing in those moments.” The one in the white coat handed over his clipboard as he looked over Umbra. Seeing her awake, he waved and asked a few questions.
“Umbra, this is a check to see if you’re still autonomous and able to carry out your duties as a Black Diver. First, well… I’m going to remove one of your arm bracers. If you feel any sort of pain, tell me.”
“Uh, ok.” Umbra couldn’t help but giggle. She didn’t feel anything at all- except for the sheets and the cold surface of the braces.
“Move your arm for me.”
Umbra blinked. If this was like anything she had read in Markor, she might as well have gotten half her body shaved off an-
“Oh my God!”
An indescribable pain shot through her “arm.” It wasn’t her actual arm, because unlike the silky smooth pale blue hue of her skin, she brought the silver and gold arm up to her face.
“What the f*ck is this?!”
Her arm shouldn’t be hurting. It wasn’t even there. The doctor cleared his throat as the shaman sat in a nearby chair. His tone was soft, as if he was reporting someone’s death.
“What you’re experiencing right now is called phantom pain, and it is the result of your brain telling you that your arm is still there, but is oriented or positioned in a way that is uncomfortable to your body.”
His words went through one ear and out the other as Umbra stared weakly at the arm, opening and closing it.
“What happened on the island is that there was a second Moon Knight that crashed through the ceiling. It brought down swords of white flames from the sky and nearly killed you, had your responder not already called Markor to your location when it found the source of power.”
Umbra sat up effortlessly through the braces, shredding them clean off. The doctor, with a surprised expression, continued to explain the situation to Umbra. Meanwhile she was not listening to anything the doctor said, lifting up the gown and checking for any other robotic parts.
“Hey, wai-”
Umbra flopped back on the bed, breathing a sigh of relief. It was just her arm, her sword arm, that was destroyed in the flame. Her chest rose up and down as she continued to stare at the ceiling.
“Hey, doc.”
The Tiran shifted, giving her time to be by herself.
“Yes, Umbra?”
She turned her head to look at him.
“You wouldn’t have happened to recover a sword from that island, did you? It seems I have to recover my touch.” Grinning, she felt newfound motivation to become stronger. At least as strong to fell a Knight in one fell swoop. “They’re stronger now. I had nothing to fear before, but now, the nights are longer. They grow more powerful as they siphon energy from the Moonseye. That just tells me I've grown weak.”
“Wait, but… your new arm?”
Umbra flexed the mechanical prosthetic, patting the doctor on the back as she nabbed her coat off the wall and slid out the door.
“To hell with it! If it works, it works!” She rolled her shoulder blades, testing the flexibility of the arm. Its whirring salvos and clickings adjusted themselves into whatever angle that was possible- and had integrated itself quite well with her body. That spark when she first had become a Black Diver had come back to her- and at full force.
Slamming the door in his face, Umbra ran down the halls, slipping her coat on and startling nurses as she hopped against the walls and above trays of potent mixtures and chemicals.
Time to find my stuff and get out of here.
Doctor Tuuli stood facing the door with a blank stare. “What a strange woman. No wonder she was called bat-sh*t insane in her Black Diver initiation.”
Shaman Felix adjusted the Bloodfeather Mask that was resting on his face. His muffled yet clear voice reached Tuuli’s ears and sent a shiver down his spine.
“That sword the woman is seeking. It is of Old World origin. Originally belonging to the Moonlight Prince.” He stared at the floor, flipping a pendant in his hands as he continued. The incessant clicking from the pendant created a rhythmic tempo, which served for Tuuli to focus more on his story. “It was created by a wandering Celestial, who siphoned the Moonseye’s power into the core of it- making it able to carve spiritual wounds onto its victim. Conventional weapons afflict the body. The Soulthorn, as it has come to be known, afflicts both body and soul. Of course, something so powerful cannot exist in this world without something else to balance it. The Core is sentient. And it pierces your mind, destroying it from within. Those I have talked to who have come into contact with those voices speak of stories where they were stolen from the Heaven’s Gate, or the Celestial Realm.”
Felix leaned into his lap, resting his gaze on the pendant he was flipping.
“This story is relevant to that prosthetic you installed on her. I included something of my own.”
Tuuli was taken aback. “This didn’t affect anything about the functionality of the prosthetic, did it?”
Felix flipped the pendant at Tuuli’s direction, who caught it and lifted it up to his face.
“What’s this for?”
Adjusting his glasses, he analyzed the silver medallion. Carved into it was the symbol of the Moonseye, with the words “Moonlit Faith” inscribed at the bottom.
Felix gripped his staff and stood up, pointing at the medallion.
“That is our insignia, our proof. The Soulthorn will corrupt her mind. Twisted as it may be, her losing an arm allowed me to send out one of my cultivated spirits to possess her new prosthetic one and purify any evil exuded from the Soulthorn. Believe me. If she chooses to wield something so powerful, she will already be aware of the drawbacks. The moment she picks up that blade, voices will enter her head.”
He nodded his head at the ground, clutching his staff and praying silently. O Gods, Bearing of the Moonseye. I pray that she- is the true Heir you have been searching for. Had he been right, the Moonseye Prince was indeed Adretian. Now, the Soulthorn may be claimed.
***
Umbra crashed into the vault door, bashing the ton of steel into the compartment. Startled workers and nearby guards protested but fell silent at her flashing the armband on her coat- the mark of the Black Diver. Skipping through the halls, she came to a stop at the encased Soulthorn. Bending over to sniff it, she brought the wooden case up to her face.
Smells like rosemary.
With the utmost care, she plucked the Soulthorn from the case and let it drop. Shattering on the floor, gaze affixed on the weapon, Umbra held it in her hand; she felt the cries within the Core wail for help. She threw her Gladius across the room, and let the Soulthorn rest in her belt. The clatter of metal ringing remained in the vast halls of the vault even after Umbra had left its gates.
Help us… Drowned…
Fallen..?
No, forgotten…
Umbra paved through and burst through the doors of the Markor Vaults at a brisk pace, ignoring the whispers that now circled ambient in her mind. She had decided. She would travel to the Isle of Vigils and enter the Vigil program, where she would hone her blade until not a single thing could stand in her way.
17.
Drowned
Drip!
Drip!
Drip!
The irrational rhythmic flow of water echoed in Crow’s mind. He felt himself in a dark place, as if he was floating on warm blankets. It was unlike anything that he had felt- the dormitories in the Knives of Elyis were hard as the daily training they were given. He felt himself curl up further, covering himself in the strange land.
Drip!
Drip!
Drip!
Still the flow of water continued. It was strange for a drop of water to echo so loudly. Then his eyes shot open- fuzzy memories flowing back to him. He was a Voidwalker, Crow Nyctida. And he had a younger brother to protect- but what happened?
He shot up and looked around. He found himself under a dark sky- no, it wasn’t even a sky- it was the creeping lights of the Depths. Scanning his surroundings, he saw only ancient trees of coral that overshadowed the dim lights above. The sand beneath his boots was soft and kicked up with little effort, and he felt his body become lighter than usual. He felt sick. He stood up too fast. Quaking with tears in his eyes, Crow bent over and gagged on his stomach juices, pouring out onto the warm sand below.
Drip!
Drip!
Drip!
Where was that infernal noise coming from? No, more, if he was in the Depths, then what happened to Zero? What now?
Straightening up, the more recent memories came back to him as he focused his mind and wiped the tears from his eyes. Brushing off the dust in his tattered coat, he began walking out of the clearing and recalled what had happened.
Zero had carried him out of the temple. He cried, held his hand, and…
There was a strange moment where he had seen Zero’s expression blank and his eyes glow with radiant light, right before he died.
The lump in his throat tightened as he looked down at his coat. There was a clean slash across the middle that split his coat in half, cropping it into a lopsided high-waisted jacket. Gasping, he lifted up the undershirt and looked at his pale-skinned belly, a clear scar across it. He was about to puke a second time when-
Drip!
He lowered his shirt, whipping his head in the direction of the pouring water. Crow had never been in the Depths before. He and Zero were just too good at their profession, but that Vigil guard was completely unorthodox in their techniques. He scanned the area behind him, before returning to his thoughts, keeping one hand on his sword. That guard struggled to breathe to chant for his mantras. As a Galebreather, they should be able to cast their mantras rather quickly to strike, one with the wind. Zero had told me about this. It was the primary way to get the most out of Galebreathe’s aggression. But despite the slow cast times, in return, that Galebreather had made up for it with mantras to stall or restrain before casting a slash they had been perfecting- Flashdraw Strike. Crow shuddered and felt the scar on his body again, remembering the slash that threw his body into the air and spilled ounces of his blood. Not only that, they had also found the time to signify their blade with compressed wind within their sheathe- as if they were using Galebreathe as an engine to blast their blade into a slash faster than one can react to. Perhaps Zero could make use of that, if Crow could see him again. Drowned bodies are engraved with a scar that had killed them. That Vigil was so practiced he used a base form mantra and killed me with it in one strike. He admonished himself for not performing at his full capacity, and called back to the early days of his Voidwalker training.
***
“Repeat after me, Words!”
“Words!” Came the unified reply.
“Have!”
“Have!”
“Power!”
“Power!” The cry died down as a few curious heads hesitated to say the final word.
“That’s right. Words have power. They are the spirit that signifies your innate strength!”
Elyis, with her arms crossed against her chest, was standing on the podium and eyeing them all with a look of superiority. The now familiar walls of the Voidheart were a marvel to Crow and Zero, who were in the crowd. They were much younger then.
“You maggots who didn’t exonerate that last word, you will die in this profession! I do not care if you are shy, or introverted, we will all be using the same amount of power in our words to amplify the intensity behind our mantras!”
She walked up and down the podium, leaning forwards and resting her cold, icy gaze on the new recruits.
“Now I’m sure that I don’t have to, but for you people who were born Attunementless, this applies to you too! Attunementless does NOT equal Songless! Those are for those who reject the Song in its entirety! So! It is important to be precise in both CASTING, AND SPELL SHOUTING! Shouting your moves will mean nothing to a mantra that has not been refined and trained thousands of times! Similarly, casting a spell perfectly will not yield the same output as casting the spell with the same movement and the proper chants! However, this is less self-sabotaging than being an arrogant prick who can’t back up their chants! It makes it so that your opponents are unable to predict moves you haven’t used before!”
She looked around, shrugging at the crowd. “Got it?!”
“Aye!” The crowd cried out.
“Good, keep listening! Unlike casting a mantra you haven’t used before and chanting for that, casting a mantra you have used thousands of times without chanting is a good way to get one up on your opponent in this world! They have to rely on pure skill or luck to deflect it! Now, you may be wondering, ‘But Elyis, what about those high-tier fights that’s always being broadcasted by the Authority or Etrea? They’re talking about random things before casting!’”
She leaned forwards and lifted a finger, winking.
“Well I’ll tell ya, so you better keep your mouths shut about it! You can modify your mantras, and in turn, they’ll change your casting chants! Likewise, as prodigies develop their own styles or schools, the chants for those will also change! Let’s take an example!”
She cupped her hands on her mouth, hollering at the crowd.
“Xiao!! Get up here!”
A thin Tiran slipped through the crowd and climbed up on top the podium. Elyis clapped as Xiao bowed, prompting the others to clap as well.
“Xiao, if you could, give me the BASE Ice Smash.”
Xiao had looked up, entering a stance before inhaling and yelling “Ice Smash!”, bringing down a colossal mace of Ice that smashed into the floor. Her stance was perfect, and the mace shattered on the floor, spreading ice on the patterned stone ground. Elyis promptly smashed the afflicted area with her heel before gesturing to Xiao.
“See that?! That was at least twenty percent more than what any of you could have done with the same amount of practice and without chanting! Xiao, if you could, now give us your adopted style.”
Xiao breathed out, a cool air passing throughout the hall. She muttered her chants.
“Frostmantle Storm, Condensing Blizzard.”
The air had become much colder, the hint of snow in the hall apparent. Just as she had chanted, she raised her arms as piles of ice and snow manifested and condensed into a much more elegant mace, crashing into the stone floor and shattering it.
“Ice Smash!”
Elyis nodded her head, kicking the ice off the floor. She snapped her fingers and the debris disappeared in a cloud of smoke. “Good, Xiao. Go back to your spot.”
Xiao nodded and hopped off the podium, dusting off her hands. Instinctively, Crow and Zero had backed out of her path just like the others as she walked through.
“Let’s go, let’s go, form up groups and start practicing your mantra casts!” Elyis bellowed.
The twins looked at each other after Xiao had passed. They both grinned, knowing they were thinking the same thing.
I could totally do that.
***
Hours of climbing, jumping over chasms to the Void below, and sightseeing of the Depths had finally bore its fruit to Crow. He now stood at one of the two entrances to Celtor- in the City of the Drowned. He knew this place was a hotspot for Divers to exterminate Depths monsters. He could get some local help here, but first-
Crow looked around for any pile of sand nearby. Finding one deep enough and without a random crab inside, he looked around before shedding his slashed coat and stuffed it into the sand. Even while the Knives and the Divers were neutral to each other, the Divers still had some unspoken disdain towards them. Patting off his shirt, he looked down at himself. An all black attire with a sleek shirt that gripped his skin and baggy pants to amplify the aerodynamics in his swings and mantra castings. He walked through the empty halls of Celtor, his quiet footsteps still echoing in the vast landscape of the Depths. For the first time since his drowning, he had checked his appearance in a nearby cracked mirror in one of the large towers of Celtor. Still the messy beige hair that he had dyed the ends black. Still the same lone sapphire earring, his signifying mark with Zero. His worn gloves that he had bought in the Central Luminant so long ago, having thought the fingerless option was the cooler (and therefore better) pair of gloves (his fingers still had blisters), and the bleak expression on his face. The realization he wasn’t taking the Depths seriously came to mind. But why should he? In his time working in the Ignition Union, he had read their databases and studied maps of the Depths on his breaks. At least, up until he had thrown up blood onto heavy machinery one too many times.
His attention drifted to the dust that fell from the ceiling. Something on top had jumped off into the distance- a Watcher. They were strange creatures of the Depths, and spawned the inconveniences of Angels that would kill any unskilled Drowned who were unfortunate to be caught in their sight. He took it as a sign to stop hiding and walked down the cobbled path again. But…
His eyes caught sight of another Chrysid, one whose appearance was a stark reminder of his own younger brother, Zero. He froze. If Zero was here, that means he would have also died, meaning he could no longer be the innocent soul Crow wanted him to be. The shock from dying would definitely haunt Zero- and Crow didn’t doubt that he would also find trouble keeping sane in the new aqueous environment. However, his muscles relaxed as he stopped focusing on the back of the Chrysid’s head and rather, their uniform, and how it was a Diver’s uniform instead of the Whaler Coat that the Knives bore. Furthermore, they didn’t have the earring Crow had given Zero- meaning that hopefully, Zero was yet to die. Wait, I worded that wrong.
Crow felt a little guilty and selfish that he even thought that Zero was going to die. Just because he had Drowned did not mean he also wished for others to suffer the same.
Ugh, I’ll have to be more careful with this. Being aware of your surroundings and creating a little story for yourself to follow was an exercise we did in the Ignition Union. It helped stop the passive sanity loss Operators would get in the Depths.
His attention went back to the Chrysid who now sat down in the courtyard, leaning back on a hand while inspecting something with the other. Crow climbed up the walls of the ancient city as he eyed the Diver. Reaching the top and hoisting himself up onto the rooftops, he made a visor with his hand as he crouched and squinted at the item in their hand. His eyes widened with shock, taken aback. It was a Nautilodaunt’s beak. Meaning that, this Apprentice Diver had killed one of the most fearsome creatures in the Depths. If I could make a good first impression, he could perhaps help me out with the Trial.
He thought of ways to approach this. If he walked up to the Diver, he would be threatened and most likely killed for having no identifying markers yet dressed in combat attire. He would also be forcing a conversation to get something that did not benefit the Diver himself. But, a part of him wanted to go and talk to him before he moved away- having seen his own brother in the Chrysid. Ugh. Crow realized blankly and hit rather hard in his gut that he had no idea how to speak to others other than his brother. Perhaps I can-
A whooshing sound and a shriek from a nearby tower. He felt the space around him light up- his hackles raising as adrenaline pumped into his veins. He struggled to maintain his eyesight in the bright light- but the shriek and the sudden flash of light made it clear. He had been spotted by Watchers, and now he would have to deal with Angels. Huh, Crow thought. He drew his trusty Champion’s Sword. I can work with this. Maybe I won’t have to say anything to introduce myself to that guy.
Jumping off the slanted roof, he hopped closer to the idle Chrysid’s location and skidded on the stone dome.
Turning his body, he bared his teeth and entered a defensive position as two Lesser Angels spawned into existence and charged him with the Spears from Above.
“Come on!”
18.
The High Scholar of New Kyrsa
“Where to find this kid…”
Halcyon walked through the empty streets of New Kyrsa. On the off chance that this kid, Aero, was actually in the City rather than the Library, it would be already hard to spot him given the size description Kaide gave him. His stomach lurched at the thought of Kaide. That man… could definitely kill anyone without a second thought.
Sneaking past drowsy Kyrsguards, Halcyon kept exploring the alien architecture- the city around him was no doubt one of the greatest civilizations to exist in its time. Even now, it could definitely hold its own. It was unfortunate that the Kyrsian people became under the influence of Mist Presence from Ethiron. But that was far from his immediate problems. Plenty of Deepdelvers past had already entered and exploited the City for its precious medallions, though they seemed nigh worthless here, as if they were just batteries to be swapped out. But Halcyon had only heard stories of its mysterious grandeur, and to see it in person was a breathtaking experience in itself.
With hunched shoulders and his hands in his pockets, Halcyon kept looking around for the Kyrsian Kaide told him to get- though he suspected that Kaide would get the Kyrsian himself aft-
The ground trembled. A flash of light from above- and Halcyon found himself looking at the large crystal ball that had been reflecting a mysterious blue light. No longer had it shined- and the hexagonal patterns that reached up to the sky above came down, the tiles disappearing until it seemed the path ahead was never blocked. What lay before him was a void of purple mist, a singular bridge of light connecting the path to the amphitheater ahead. He looked around. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Then perhaps Kaide alread-
“Hey. Have you found him?”
Halcyon whipped around on his heel, a bit shocked to see Kaide appear out of nowhere.
Gods Below, that Lightkeep is no joke.
“N-no, actually. And I’m not inclined to look into the library- even though that’s probably where he is- because I know for a fact I’ll get lost and locked out.”
Kaide turned his head. “Really?” Intrigued, he disappeared in a gust of wind, before Halcyon heard the shockwaves of an impact. Loose stones on the ground kicked up as the wind picked up from the incoming blast, as Halcyon shielded his eyes.
“What the hell…?”
Before him was Kaide once more, except he was holding a small figure with one hand by their hood- that of whom was flailing and barfing silver-colored juices. They gurgled (ew, ew, disgusting…) and spat out the rest, slumping in Kaide’s grip. Sighing, it spoke in a childish voice and manner yet commanded the knowledge of a civilization as old as time.
“Kaide… I appreciate you looking out for me, but please don’t Flashste- grrk…” Aero’s eyes widened as saliva dripped from his mouth.
Halcyon was bewildered. Kaide stared back at him, letting the two become acquainted.
“Aero, this is a Surface Dweller that found his way here after… ‘dying’... in the First Floor. His name is Halcyon, but ironically, there is nothing about the past that was beautiful.”
Halcyon kept his gaze affixed on the Kyrsian. Why is it so small? And so… cute… Astra would have loved to meet this guy.
Aero’s eyes perked up, meeting with Halcyon. He wiped his lips with his sleeve and sized him up. “Halcyon, huh? Nice name. Mine is Aeroneium Kyrgizh-”
Halcyon held up a palm and shut his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, no, okay, just give me the short one.”
Aero pouted and folded his arms, the silver markings upon him flaring in annoyance. “Fine. It’s Aero to you, Surface Dweller.”
Kaide nodded, motioning at the bridge of light to the side. “Right, that’s good enough for introductions. You two: listen to me and listen closely. This is my plan to escape the Second Layer.”
He set Aero down on the floor who pouted and sat down, both listening intently. Halcyon averted his gaze as he focused his mind as well.
“...You know, I can’t actually tell if either of you are lis-”
“We’re listening.” Came the clipped reply from the both of them. Kaide felt it strange that they were actually listening to what he had to say- when Aero was lazily dragging a slender finger inside the crevices in the street and Halcyon leaning on his back leg and looking down at Aero with crossed arms. Kaide looked at them in disbelief for a moment before blinking and crossing his arms as well, maintaining his firm gaze at Halcyon’s face (despite him doing his best not to look back) and clearing his throat.
“Well, in any case… the timeline we are on now has branched from what should have been. You entering the time loop disrupted the timeline and now has created a separate world we are now in. Meaning, everything here, if we connect it into the world that now exists, will override what has occurred in that timeline’s Second Layer. It’s hard to explain, just realize that there are many slight differences in some fundamental things, such as the Song. Even now, it has come into effect. I can feel my innate Song discordant with the one of this timeline. It does not change anything chronologically. Whatever happened in the past is the same, but it is these small details that make us unique to this Verse. You do not need to know anything more, nor about your Omega copies, as I will call this world, than what I have told you. Just know that when we get out, I will entrust Aero to you and I will call back to you when the time is right. Just focus on doing what you were doing before, except now you have Aero’s knowledge.”
Halcyon bit his lip. “That… was a lot of information. So, in relevance to me and Aero… we will have to reattune our Songs?”
Kaide nodded. “That’s right. Mine as well, but I must go about it a different way. Most of the procedures I am in need of to do so are lost to the Old World. Meanwhile you two can just reattune based on existing manuals of this time.”
Kaide slapped Halcyon’s back.
Ow. Halcyon rubbed the afflicted area, confused. Why was the Lighborn being more friendly? Though he needs to learn how to hit less hard.
Kaide picked up Aero off the floor with both hands (“merk-!”) as the pair looked at the path ahead once more.
“Shall we get going? The Scion won’t awaken itself.”
19.
Act I Crescendo
The Drowned Light v. The Catalyst of Winds, Scion of Ethiron
There are no words that could describe the amphitheater before Halcyon at that moment. Something beyond the Surface, beyond Lumen’s capacity to completely appreciate. Grand towers that expanded into the sky, rigid and boney in structure. Platforms of alien material, yet with the most grand demure. The distant floor of the chasm erupted in purple mist, diffusing and expanding into works of art. Halcyon walked across the bridge of light with Kaide and the High Scholar in silence. Through the grand arch, decorated with gold and palest marble lay the path of wilderness ahead- Halcyon gazed upon the stadium, a structure as large as the City itself. He felt fluctuation, a feeling of ancient fear awakened in his bones. Yet Kaide trudged forwards, Aero not affected in the slightest. A God-like power emanated from the ever changing environment.
They now stood before a twisted ball of compressed air- a primordial wind that beckoned for their deaths. A raging howl that would consume all in the oncoming wind. The mist before Halcyon made his head feel light- his sense of danger was rising. This was an arena.
The radiant gleam of gold lined up on grand pillars and edges forced Halcyon to squint slightly- the glare was unbearable. He inspected the area around him, feeling the strange light yet firm material that decorated the floor. Yet another example of Kyrsian innovation. The strange paving stones bore a hollow composition but did not collapse under his weight- he would have to ask Aero about the material. Kaide stood before the winds before him, his outfit flapping in the face of the immense pressure from the ancient power.
“You two ready?”
Halcyon snapped back to attention. Picking himself off the floor, he nodded and wiped his face with his sleeve.
“Ready.”
Kaide began the chant.
Drowned Gods are an incredible phenomenon that have remained a question to Surface scholars dating back to before the Old World. To call upon one’s name requires power, otherwise the incantation may not work without proper ritual and sacrifices to make up for it. Those who frivolously boast their names will soon find themselves ironically struck down by the ones they call upon. However, predetermined rituals allow anyone of any caliber to call upon and summon the might of a Drowned God, however little it may be. In the case of this specific God, however, they had created a separate entity of worship to the Kyrsian people- known as the Scion of Ethiron.
“Gods Below, so Above, harmonizing as one.”
The winds began to spin and turn, creating a vortex of wind. Like clockwork spinning into place, the purple wind began to catch momentum and absorb all air in the vicinity. Kaide, unfazed, continued the chant. Meanwhile Halcyon was on his knees struggling to breathe, feeling his own existence, his Soul, ripped apart by the power before him.
“From softer skies…”
The winds rhythmically swerved, lashes of gale striking outwards as it began to collapse on itself.
“To fearsome gales…”
A chilling cry from the world below, a tremor of an ancient being awakening. Halcyon felt his lungs burn up. He reached for Kaide, trying to warn him about what was to happen.
“Our lord Ethiron…”
The arena shook. The purple mist began to rise.
“Will wake to this world…”
The winds stopped. Halcyon breathed out, coughing. His hair was a mess, and Aero, who had been standing vigilantly next to Kaide, nodded his head back at Halcyon. The mist enclosed the exit, blocking the way out.
Kaide put down his hands and looked up to the sky above, sighing.
Wake.
A swirling abomination of bone, a divine presence to its rising figure from the mist. A colossal being that beget the Song in its full power. Its large bony hands were reminiscent of the monster that had nearly killed him in the First Floor. A chord of shock went through Halcyon as he got up, adrenaline surging through his veins like never before. He was facing a part of a God now, with no background knowledge nor any idea what his strategies would be. He never went into an Operation without proper knowledge, but this event was something he could not ignore. The truth about the situation he was in dawned on Halcyon. f*ck, I might die for real.
Plip!
He felt his nose and inspected the steady stream of blood coming from it. The Song, unbridled by the screams of the first layer is revealed in all its glory, a resonant tone no longer shackled and expanded in its regal form. Pure Song that told the tale of a cosmic entity that brought the winds to Lumen. Halcyon instinctively shielded his Soul with all his might, knowing that if he wavered in strength, the monster before him would not even need to act to kill him. The nosebleed was the least of his troubles right now.
It let out a vibrant screech at the trio, Kaide and Aero maintaining their stances and menacing gazes while Halcyon shielded his eyes and ears from the blast of sound.
For the first time, Kaide sees the possibility of making it to the Surface once more. In this new Omega timeline, he could do whatever he wanted for a short period of time before the Celestials noticed him and his residual power. He smirked, delighted. I will take advantage of this opportunity later.
Resting a claw on its shoulder, the Scion of Ethiron straightens itself as the scene is set. The ramps to the higher floors retract, and sharp pillars of bone rise on each level. The air becomes cold.
The Drowned Light versus the Catalyst of Winds, Scion of Ethiron.
