Arson didn’t know how not to accept what the man offered. He found the situation both far too perfect, and somehow at the same time incredibly discouraging.
Micheal seemed to be able to do things that Arson thought impossible. For the first time in Arson’s life he found someone more capable than himself at being able to remanufacture abilities, skills, and techniques as their own. At one point when Michael didn’t want to waste time having Arson show him where Arson was along his progression in martial skills, the man just appeared next to Arson, tapping his forehead, outright claiming the knowledge as his own.
“Ahh, talented but far from the pinnacle,” was all Michael stated. This process of analyzation took a fortnight, in which Troy had completed 42 fights, 13 of which she’d lost, leaving her with a minimum of 71 victories needed to be freed.
It wasn’t until this period of time concluded, that Arson realized that just by going through the entirety of his skill base was enough to refine him further. Through this simple exercise, Arson was able to link many of his attacks to one another. His once seemingly scattered set of skills, smoothly linking to one another as made to fit like puzzle pieces.
“Yes, yes, this is more refined. Glad to know that you are capable of finding symmetry.”
Arson looked at Michael, nodding in respect. Though the teacher's words were often simple, what Arson had accomplished under his guidance already was amazing, even if he felt Troy was gaining more momentum than he was, and that Michael was pulling Arson away from something rather than toward Arson’s own goals.
Arson’s partner was already closing the gap between herself and the levels of power being displayed by the students successfully walking the halls, while Arson felt his slow practice of skills and abilities he’d long had was a waste. Yet still followed through as the Flow of Will technique he’d learned partially from Dashawn seemed to be growing more and more fluid.
“At what point does the actual instruction begin?” Arson asked, and Michael laughed.
“Whenever you want, child. Communication is key. How am I supposed to know when you are ready to learn if you don’t speak up?”
Arson thought to himself a moment, completely confused about what the man was saying. He’d thought Micheal had told him to show him everything, and until the man’s previous statement thought that he still hadn’t done so, but was unsure now.
“Wasn’t I supposed to be showing you everything I can do,” Arson asked trying to confirm Michael’s expectations, only for Michael to nod slowly.
“Do you believe that you have done so?”
It was Arson’s turn to nod. Yet the subtle frown Michael then put on made Arson unsure of his answer.
“Are you sure that is everything you have to offer... a few skills and abilities?” Micheal asked, making Arson take the time to think more deeply on what Micheal was asking of him.
“No, I truly don’t know everything I have to offer, I guess. I mean I thought my skills and abilities were the extent of my martial capabilities, but maybe if you are more specific, I can show you more,” Arson asked timidly. Now afraid that he was missing something entirely, Arson opened his Overlay and began to look through his many tabs and sources of information. Not only in regard to himself, but what his advanced training and development systems could show him, only for Micheal’s pointed finger to press against Arson’s forehead and every screen before his eyes to disappear.
Holy…
“What did you just do,” Arson asked.
“I want to know what you are capable of, not your Overlay…”
Michael waved his hand, and Arson and the older man reappeared in the meditation room that Ego slept in constantly since Arson had entered Micheal’s hidden classroom. The man waved his hands once more, and the room was instantly filled with books of all shapes and sizes.
“You know what none of these books have within them,” Micheal said rhetorically, yet Arson didn’t know the answer. He thought of a multitude of answers, but didn’t have the confidence to speak any of them. His normal superiority wasn’t felt in this moment, nor had it been since he’d entered the strange space that Micheal controlled.
Arson wasn’t ashamed to feel like the smartest person in the room most days, but his ego wasn’t so large that he didn’t recognize when and who he had something to learn from. Yet with Micheal everything seemed different.
Arson was very rarely shaken by someone’s intelligence, but with Almarine, Jade, Carter, and now Micheal, Arson felt unstable in not only his ability to reason and intuit details in any given situation, but also his inability to what was expected of him.
He’d done many great things in his short life, but in the face of immortal individuals who’d done things he could only imagine, he felt as if his foundation was made of paper, while his teachers were standing upon platforms made of diamonds.
Micheal sighed when Arson didn’t answer after a few moments. The man looking away as he shook his head slowly.
“We have spoiled you all with these pre built systems of power…”
Arson frowned at the man’s words, but only because he couldn’t imagine what the man meant.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what these books don’t have. I see books as the key to everything in life, what can’t be learned from a book, has just yet to be written,” said Arson, and to his surprise, Micheal smiled.
“Now that is an answer that gives me faith in the future generations, my boy,” said Micheal. The man walked over to a book and picked it up, looking at the cover for a moment before he tossed the book aside and picked up another.
“Books keep knowledge as your Overlay does, but without you, the home for that knowledge, the power within these pages or the screens you read, the power is useless,” said Micheal, still looking through various books. The piles were taller than them both, and as the man pulled some of the larger tomes free from their haphazard positions, many of the stacks tumbled down around his feet during his rummaging.
“I suppose I can understand what you mean by that,” responded Arson, feeling as if he was still missing something, but sensing that Micheal had a point and was moving toward a point as he explained.
“I’ve been trying to get you to see something within yourself for days now, and even though you have come close, you are still limited by the understanding of what you have seen. All of your abilities and skills are either stolen, slight adaptations of your role models own powers, or granted to you by the system. But my favorite memory of yours is of the skill you once tried to create as a child. Yes, it was inspired by an ability your mother once had, but even still it was more your own than anyone else’s, and that is your greatest gift, your creativity,” Micheal said pulling free a small book with an intricate rune on its cover. Arson frowned at having the man discuss his memories so casually, almost having had forgotten that he’d ever tried to create a skill.
“That skill I tried to create was far too volatile, it used far too much mana, and nearly killed all my friends when I tried to control it,” Arson said wondering what the man felt to be so special about a skill Arson had given up on even before he’d traveled to Endless.
“The entity inside you even sees the potential of your power, Reaper I believe is what you call it. That piece of your soul is testing things that you wouldn’t even dare, things that would build your power base in a way that would allow you to become an unstoppable force. Until you break down the limits of your mind, I will never be able to help you become a matter manipulator,” Micheal said, throwing Arson the book he held.
“You keep mentioning this Matter Manipulation power. How is that any different than me receiving a power from my previous role models, the thing you seem to be trying to indicate is shameful,” Arson said, catching the book.
“Matter manipulation is seen in some realms as an ability of Origin, the power to mold the elements of the realms toward your desires, forming anything from everything. I see your potential to become the greatest matter manipulator of all time in your ability to both create and use any type of mana as a strong foundation for what I have to teach you. But if you don’t lose the restrictions you have placed on your mind you’ll never get there. You’ve set your limits based on the levels of powers you’ve seen Ancients display, yet even they aren’t the pinnacle of what is possible, boy. And until you understand that, you will not make it far,” said Micheal.
“You say that as if you have done so yourself,” said Arson with a laugh, only for Micheal to shrug simply. Silence filled the room and Arson waited for the man to say he was joking, or anything that would refute the man’s claim that he’d ascended beyond the power of an Ancient.
“What?”
“Don’t what me. You can’t just insinuate that you are more powerful than an Ancient and then shoulder shrug as if what you’ve said is a small matter.”
“Child, all of the secret halls were created from a fractional grain's worth of my soul during my last ascension, from the small connection this piece of my soul still has with my main body. I can tell I am learning from gods, not ancients as you now do…”
“What?”
“Don’t what me, child. This isn’t important, open that book to any page and read what it says,” commanded Micheal. Arson looked down at the small book in his hands, having to force his mind away from the fact that he was speaking with the fragment of a former Ancient's soul, and took in the book's features.
The all black book was no bigger than a simple journal, but was rigid as if made from a rather strong and unknown material. Arson had never seen leather like the incredibly black book, and found it to be incredibly heavy for its small size.
“Hurry up before I change my mind, boy…” Arson looked up to see a serious gaze on the face of his teacher, and then back toward the book. Opening the book made time itself come to a complete stop, and the space around Arson grew larger as if the room he was in no longer had a frame or walls to contain everything held within.
Woah… Although Arson could feel what had just occurred, his senses alerted him to the confines of reality being stretched to their limits. He was unable to look around and take in the changes that had just taken place to the environment. With each fraction of a blink that should have occurred in the frozen moment of time he was experiencing, a new plane flickered into existence, only to be replaced immediately.
“Within the truth of all lies the forgotten, as a wielder of truth and potential, you must find what is forgotten to understand both what was, and what will be. The trial of the forgotten tome is not for the lost, it is for the fearless. With its power comes the answers known only to Origin. Breathe in the will of existence and control the limits of reality…”
Arson felt time snap back into motion, and the limits of space return to normal, still he was unable to look away from the page in front of him. He was forced to watch the words change from language to imagery. The ink on the page transforming into the image of a gateway.
“I’m sorry, my boy, I thought that this would be easy for you, but it seems that the realms have high expectations of you,” Arson heard Micheal say, still unable to look away.
“What is happening?” Arson yelled, panic filling his heart as he felt his soul being pulled from his body.
“This is a book of reality, child. It is going to test you, and if you succeed, you may be powerful enough to gain my legacy,” said Micheal. Arson was unable to respond, his body crumpling to the ground as his soul was snatched from the vessel that was his body, and pulled into a place beyond realms and time. A place where the borders of spacial laws did not exist and the limits of the mind, were meant to be broken, or shown to be tools to be tinkered with, rather than confine the mortal coil with weights bought on by taught perceptions.
When Arson arrived within the trial space he was stunned by the sight in front of him. His mind completely unable to fathom what he could be looking at.
Before him was a palace so large that he couldn’t see where it began or ended. The structure seemed to be made from many smaller palaces that all shifted and moved around one another in a perfect synchronicity. A moving puzzle of sorts that became more and more completed with each movement of the individual palaces.
Arson found it odd that when he looked at a single piece of the structure he could differentiate between vastly different architectural styles, but when he tried to gaze at the marvel in front of him as a whole, nothing stood out as unique. One palace he saw seemed to be made of a rich and deep blue stone that pulsed with light, was so elegant it took his breath away, yet it only appeared to function as a mere courtyard or entrance, while another palace with lavish garden work seemed to serve as a simple bridge that led to another section deeper within the larger whole of intertwining building design.
Arson slowly spun to take in the entirety of the space he found himself in, realizing that he stood on a path that ended in a sharp cliff. The palace made from palaces was apparently positioned atop a floating island made of an odd and unfamiliar stone, that served as a foundation similar to the floating platforms of Maelstrom.
Arson couldn’t tell if the island was moving, as when he looked in the night sky that filled the space around him, many other smaller islands moved toward him. From what he could tell, the night sky was filled with various shooting stars and pinpricks of colors that made him feel like he was stargazing, until one of the shooting stars revealed itself to be one of the floating islands topped with an intricately built palace.
The island shot toward the grouping behind him, and he spun to see it absorbed by the perimeter walls formed from forts, castles, and mansions. Arson felt he was looking at the ultimate climbing challenge, literal latticeworks constructed from structures rather than materials. Mountainous buildings formed from royal residences, all to complete a metropolis that gave Arson the impression it was alive.
Should I go inside?
He took a few steps forward down the path, and truly felt he was being watched by a presence so grand, that it made Carter’s aura feel small and underwhelming in comparison. Then the voice came and Arson knew that he was about to face a trial unlike anything he’d experienced before. A trial that he may not want to face by any means.
“Do you dare face the trial of infallible memory?”
Arson didn’t enjoy anything that dealt with memory, or the tampering of the vessel that held his knowledge and past. He felt the strength of his memory was his fiercest resource and his greatest tool. Knowing that without it he be lost, not only in the expanse that was his mind, but also in the realms of Cultivation. A place boundless in the regard of information that could be gained.
Maybe if I succeed in this trial I will be further protected against the loss of what I hold most dear…?
“I don’t know what this trial is, or if I am prepared for it, but I have been brought here to try. If that is acceptable enough for you, then yes, I would like to face the trial.”
*Trial of Infallible Memory: Find the Tome of the Forgotten. Every moment spent within these halls will strip you of the foundation that is your will, your power, your very being itself. If you find the relic within the depths of this trial, all you have lost will be restored and more. If you do not, you too will be forgotten by all, for the power of permanence within the mind is supreme and requires great sacrifice to obtain.
"Be brave young soul, as none before you have survived, only to be lost to time and all who loved or feared them. Shall you try and succeed where none prior have? Yes/No?”