“The gods are dead. From the high heavens to the lowest hells, they lay lifeless since the Day of Screams, lusting for an ascension not yet open to them. No longer may the celestial realm gift miracles to their blessed, nor the infernal realm take payment for chasing off death.
Yet, in the wake of the fall of our divine watchers, the living has been awarded a chance, an opportunity, a true and infinite ascension.” The Heretic wrote.
Jonathan traced the words’ infinite ascension’, a small ritual he’s performed since he found the blasphemous book buried in his parent’s library. These words were no secret; the gods lay ripped apart in the realms, their bodies seeding the universe with artifacts and mysteries of untold value. One only had to look at the Church of Healing to find the proof; on the Day of Screams, divine-type healers felt their faith scattering, no longer able to heal anything past nicks and cuts, their pope’s ancient body no longer held together by his powerful divinity, and their paladins now just warriors without any mysticism. All this began when, in his anger, He Who Ferries Gods ripped apart bodies of the divine, their wails forever etched into mortal history.
With the divine gone, the veil between realms became thin, allowing Celestial and Infernal mana to bleed into the mortal world, warping it in the many divine colors. As such, following the Day of Screams, small towns and villages bordering the untamed lands found that those who braved the waves of warped beasts returned carrying bounties of rare herbs, enhanced meats, and mysterious gifts. With their gods dead and powers free for the picking, humans looked to the works of their ancestors for answers and strength. A millennia later, they found them, ancient texts depicting esoteric rituals predating the gods themselves. Practices that allowed them to harness the powers of infernal, celestial, and mortal mana to open a path to the realms of the divine.
“Come on, you heathens.” The orphanage director called out to the room of 18-year-olds, fighting to suppress the grin slowly spreading on his face.
“Yeah, yeah, old man.” Andrew, one of the rougher boys, waved the director off as they all began to funnel out of the room.
“Are you ready, son?” The director came up and put a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder.
He was only a ward of the state for two months, but from their limited interaction, he could tell that the man raised each child with care. “I’m okay. It’s just not how I expected my Awakening to go.”
“Sometimes the decision of others is unfathomable.” He responded with a muted smile.
“Yeah… unfathomable,” Jonathan said, an indescribable feeling bubbling in his chest as he walked out the door. Like he doesn’t know.
Jonathan stood in line with the rest of the wards of the state, his fellow orphans holding their breath when he was near like his parents’ cultish rituals stained him and the taint would rub off on them. A part of him wanted to spit on the ground, watching the sea part as they wondered what kind of hex he cast on them, but he had a more exciting task ahead of him. The Awakening ceremony, a curious event where one enters a portal manifested on intersecting leylines hurdling fresh-eyed 18-year-olds to play a sort of divine scavenger hunt, traversing through the realms and walking around blindly until they find the artifact that calls to them. Jonathan brushed his hands over his lifeline, a small book which revealed itself to only the young man, the Infinite Ascension for Dummies by The First Heretic. To Jonathan, this book was the first step, a path defined only by himself, one which would lead him to true power. The line moved relatively quickly after a vibrant opening score of awakened musicians. Musicians played their songs, channeling their mana to bless the participants with their magic buffs. Having a body packed with the effects of many enhancement rituals and fed a steady diet of magical beasts and high-quality treasures, these buffs didn’t feel like much to Jonathan. Nonetheless, it was clear to most that the musicians were here more for the children whose parents awakened with low-level artifacts. A simple buff like this could afford them enough energy to stay in the realm for a whole day without needing food or water.
When Jonathan’s turn came, he paused in front of the portal, turned to face the gatekeeper, an elder of the fey race, and held his hand to him. With a knife enchained with the [Drop of Blood] effect, he made a small nick on the finger, and a single drop of blood lit the talisman with a green flame. This talisman is a way for families to monitor their children’s vitals, seeing if they happen to die in the other realms. To Jonathan, this felt like another reminder: no one would be watching his talisman if he died; no one would bring this amulet to the pyre to free his soul from this godless world. No one was waiting for him.
“May the echoes guide you.” The wizened fey smiled, and with a nod, Jonathan reached forward and touched his hand to the gate as the energy from the gate warped reality and consumed him.
The echoes, Jonathan scoffed while the reality bent around him, displacing his body into the celestial realm, the vestiges of divine madness.
He stepped through the portal; his body flew past the in-betweens until he found himself before an abandoned palace and a few other children from the city. Quickly finding his bearings, he walked out the door and began his search for a secluded area to enact his plan. He could feel the tugs signifying a compatible artifact nearby in the divine realm. Still, from the low intensity of the pull, he figured that they were lower-grade artifacts or more potent resources. Carefully trudging through the estate, he found an open exit behind the large home, and from what he could see, there were only a few parties of people roaming it, searching for the thing that drew them there. Ignoring them, he walked towards one of the smaller villas that dot the garden. Hopefully, the locks still work.
Sitting on the edge of his freshly drawn runic circle, he held his guide while reading the incantations noted in the text. In the language of mana, he called out to the universal laws, requesting an opening to the place between realms, the space where eldritch horrors and the cosmic keepers roam. As he called upon these powers, the circle began to absorb energy and matter, pieces of the room flowing into the circle as mana, light, and matter coalesced into a grand black double door. Jonathan slumped his shoulders after finishing the ritual; the pressure of performing a ritual as an unawakened left him with a splitting headache.
Acting fast, he pushed open the doors and jumped in, then he was there, led by the Heretic’s book to the place his parents entered all those years ago at the call of that harbinger of misfortune. Pushing those thoughts aside, he examined his surroundings, feeling the power emanating through the atmosphere, a graveyard of godly flesh. This place wasn’t very privy to most mortals thus, rich with the kind of rare treasures one could use to awaken. The area was strange; he could feel he was standing on something solid ground; if anything, it was slightly uneven, like walking on dirt, but surrounding him was the deep void of space, a literal sea of stars.
Shaking his head, he trudged on, feeling the call of the artifacts identifying the strongest one and heading in that direction. On the way there, he found a few artifacts of note; the first was a small glowing letter evoking the feeling of tragic love, a pair of glasses that whispered promises of infinite knowledge, and even a large stock pot stained with a viscous black and gold liquid. Each one is unique in its appearance and filled with endless possibilities. Unfortunately, they weren’t quite what Jonathan was looking for; he didn’t know exactly, but he felt fate would rear its fickle head if he followed the tug in his soul.
Sometime later, he reached a small but dense oasis. The canopy of a single tree covered the area with an enchanting green glow, allowing the small forested oasis to emit a dreamy quality. Even the fey groves exalted for their great beauty and ancient aura didn’t compare to this scene. With a grim expression, he stalked the forest before entering; back in the palace, adventuerers had cleared out most of the beasts who roam the celestial realm; thus, nothing more substantial than a rat could harm a participant, but out here in untamed space, creatures infinitely more terrifying roam hunting for their next meal. Inside the oasis, he traversed to the tune of the forest. The chilly breeze strung a symphony of rustling leaves and groans of ancient trees as their branches danced. Luckily, he didn’t encounter or hear any beasts but stayed vigilant. Following the pull to his soul, he could make it to the center of the oasis, and there, he found something pretty much under no circumstances he would’ve expected. A crying child. Probably no older than five years old.
“Hello.” He stuttered, bending down to put his hand on the child’s back.
The only response he got back was another wail; this time, it seemed to hold some sort of power over the forest as the branches began to reach toward the pair. Scanning the child again, he found that the child’s body was primarily humanoid, but instead of human legs, he had ones of a goat. He’s a satyr.
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The wails continued as Jonathan simply stroked his back, calming him down. “Hey, buddy.” Jonathan said with a soft smile, “Where are your parents?”
“Dead!” The child screamed and fell into Jonathan’s chest, “Dead! Dead! Dead!”
The boy’s voice took on a guttural tone, causing Jonathan to push the boy away.
“They are dead! The gods killed them! They killed them!” The satyr began to scream, his eyes turning bloodshot.
Run. With that singular thought, Jonathan took off. Pushing through branches and tripping over roots, this thought took over his mind. He just had to run. A cry of unknown meaning ripped through the air, pushing Jonathan to run faster into the ever-denser trees. Aren’t satyr spirits of the forest? The thought wiggled into Jonathan’s mind, prompting him to look back at the monster chasing him, confirming his worst fears. While not fast, the young satyr caught up to him, the trees parting their great branches in reverence to the forest spirit. His mind racing faster than his feet could move him, he found himself in the center of a clearing, and at this point, the call to his soul was screaming at him. Without hesitation, he took the artifact in his hand.
Trial Initiated: Purification of the Stars
Millennia after the master of this forest died, the land itself began to absorb the void's corruption, the stars' radiance, and the negative emotions of the artifacts carrying echoes of their slain gods. To claim this artifact, you must banish the spirit that had manifested from all this malice and energy so that it may tread its true fate.
Barrier Durability: 99%
“Okay, this gives me some time.” He murmurs, collapsing against the tree stump that previously held this artifact.
“-going to pump your body full of leaves and then eat you!” A vicious voice screamed at him, jolting Jonathan up to take another look at the barrier’s durability.
Bang Bang, two roots whipped against the dome, protecting him from the satyr.
Barrier Durability: 98%
Okay, think. Jonathan pulled out the guide and turned it to the back where he kept his notes. He turned to a section titled ‘Soul Magic.’ There were only two ways to cleanse the energy of a being; the first would be an Awakened using their artifact associated with consuming or purifying the energy, and the other is Soul Magic, an ancient form of magic. Jonathan read the section with a slight frown; the ritual itself was simple enough, but having to use ‘forbidden’ magic so early seemed like a bad omen.
Soul Magic was the first miracle manifested by the Pantheon of Creation. Soul magic is very accessible; shamans use it to call upon their ancestors' spirits and priests to commune with their gods, and in the era of post-divinity and the awakened, they use it to bind the godly artifacts to their souls. In a world ruled by power, these spells were all but charms in the face of the powerful, but soul magic also had darker applications. Call upon and contract beings from between the veils, unchain oneself from the laws of the universe, and most famously, split and bind souls, the basis for becoming an abomination.
He drew a layered ritual circle for the trial, carefully using a sharp rock to carve the runes on the ground. Pushing himself to carve as quickly and accurately as possible was tough, especially when the vicious young spirit would fantasize about heating his insides as a pate, forcing him to redraw a handful of runes. About 20 minutes later, he was finally ready to power the circle.
Barrier Durability: 20%
Jonathan took a calming breath and began the most worrying part of the ritual; he would have to touch his soul vein. Growing up in a cult that worshipped a race rumored to be the pinnacle of soul magic, he was fluent in the runic soul language, but touching his soul vein launched him onto the path of an abomination.
The churches call it a ‘spot of abomination’ because Soul Magic has the property of changing one’s soul since it requires the caster to expose a thread of their true soul to the world. Even his parents, soul mages who specialized in collecting knowledge, held souls stained so dark that they seemed to consume light, according to the tabloids.
Barrier Durability: 5%
Let’s get started. He psyched himself up, turning his consciousness inwards towards the radiant sliver of his soul, and pulled out a single tendril. As this was his soul, he had no trouble manipulating or stretching it as an extension of his body. A whirl of white radiance materialized out of Jonathan’s pores. Slowly following their caster’s will, it began to condense.
Barrier Durability: 3%
Condense. Condense. Condense. He repeated this mantra to himself, picturing turning these formless wisps into a ceremonial dagger. Fuck fuck fuck! Jonathan screamed into his mind; the dagger was materializing too slowly he needed to begin chanting.
With a clear voice, he began speaking in the first tongue of magic, the soul tongue.
“Nebulus, first of the formless, he who embodies the void, I offer my blood to you!”
Jonathan sliced his palm with the radiant knife, and blood gushed onto the ground.
“Bless this ceremony with your vast powers so that I may realign the fate of one of your innocent children.”
A terrifying presence fills the air, the barrier shattered into dust, and the satyr, blinded by madness, rushed towards Jonathan. The presence takes on an emotion, a feeling of pity and intrigue towards Jonathan, before releasing a dark energy into the blood, causing it to to bubble. The blood then begins to grow, filling in the grooves of the ritual circle and creating a crude mental connection with Jonathan, giving him control of the vast amount of energy now hidden in the ritual. Jonathan dug into the link, fortifying it, watching the satyr step one foot into the circle.
“Bind!” Jonathan screamed, the ritual threatening to rip apart his mind.
“Screw you!” The corrupted spirit said, pulling at the energy bindings holding it into place.
Jonathan then felt the tension from his body release; now that he had finished more time-sensitive part, he let all the emotions wash over him. Slumping over, he supported his upper body arms, keeping an eye on the rampaging spirit; he cursed that was crazy. The splitting headache, the anemic feeling from losing so much blood, and the stress-induced fatigue all hit him at once, but he couldn’t help but grin. Now, all I need to do is purify the energy of this little devil.
Once again, touching upon the vast reserve of energy Nebulus gave him, he could finally appreciate the subtle emotions this energy was giving off. The most apparent was the sense of omnipotence; with just a thought, he could absorb all the satyr’s energy and use it freely. It also held a sense of affection towards the young spirit, like nostalgia beckoning the corrupted spirit to be reborn and return to the spirit world.
The magic circles of ritual magic are a sort of contract; one writes out a series of runes which the being one is trying to commune with can evaluate briefly and agree to take the sacrifice to power this ritual or refuse. Jonathan layered two straightforward clauses in this ritual, the first to give him the power to bind the spirit and the other to take control of the energy the spirit held. While the first had little room for bending, the second allowed Jonathan time to think; he could banish the power into the void, pushing the spirit to spiritual rebirth and growing into a proper forest spirit. On the other hand, there was a small voice calling out to Jonathan to take the void’s power of corruption into his soul and purify it with the radiance of the stars; once he does this, he will become a true soul mage with an affinity for both corruption and radiance, the cosmic versions of dark and light.
“What should I do…” Jonathan spoke out, pondering when the Artifact Awakening System jumped in.
Congratulations!
You have completed the first part of your trial, and as you ponder the second part, your artifact's echo would like to make a suggestion.
Side Quest: Feed Your Darlings!
Feed the three excess energies to the artifact to improve its grade.
Iron -> Mithril
Jonathan stared at the suggestion wide-eyed; this is perfect! He was kicking himself, not thinking about it earlier; by feeding his artifact cosmic energies, he could still gain the benefits without further coloring his soul. Casting a flick of will did just as the system explained, funneling the three-colored energy into the small locket around his neck. The satyr didn’t seem to feel the drain as it still screamed unhinged threats, this time telling him how he would make his intestines into a delicious stew with carrots until his threats eventually became silent.
Ding! Trial complete!
Artifact: Key to the First Forest
Affinity: Wood, Cosmic, [Sealed]
Grade: Wood (Mithril Sealed)
Abilities:
Wood: Life Supporting Void.
Description: A space that will grow with the user’s grade and can support plant life with a low chance of improved productivity.
….
Iron: (Sealed)
….
Mithril: (Sealed)
Ascendence Quest:
Ding! Make Your Bed
The first step of being a tree-hugging grass eater is to live in the forest. Create a domain in the First Forest by seeding it with the following resources.
Biological (0/300) Seeds (0/1000(+)) Energy Sources (10,000)
With a grin, Jonathan laid back and laughed, a laugh that filled the once-silent air of the void with joy and a sort of madness.
“The first step!” Jonathan jumped and screamed, “I’ve taken the first step!”