Arson spent the rest of the same day eluding a swarm of drakes that only seemed to grow in size with every attempt he made to escape. From what his watch told him, he would have been able to easily slay the beasts with all his tools, but his Living Hand Constructs no longer listened to his commands since he’d lost the majority of his memories.

Of his tools Sky was the only piece of weaponry that seemed unaffected by his memory loss, but his watch stated that she didn’t know if even that would last.

There were moments of instinctual bursts of muscle memory that caused Arson to defend himself properly, but as days grew in number, even those situations became fewer and fewer in occurrence.

Arson’s body seemed more drained with any use of mana; the ability for him to use such large quantities of energy coming from a grand understanding of how mana worked, and many memories of how his own connection with countless types of runes and energy made him far more efficient when using his abilities or skills.

Additionally, Arson’s unique body structure and gene combination allowed for him to intake mana at obscene rates with only one stipulation that could cause his regenerative properties to become dulled or inactive, which was the balance of his physical state, the will of his soul, and a calm mind.

His mind being in a gradually increasing anxiety-enthralled position had left Arson with only a slightly increased healing factor. Which forced the normally very reckless young man to look at any and every situation differently.

It wasn’t that Arson was careless, or believed himself to be invincible, rather, he believed his limitation to be far less restrictive than a mortal, or even many Cultivators..

Dealing with a slow rate of healing while within the nest had caused Arson to pick his battles. After seeing a dragon so large that he worried about the size of the beasts he may encounter outside the nest, Arson took his every step with caution. His moves were slow, and every plan made came with both instruction from his watch, which not only kept him aware of his memory loss, but helped him find safe areas to rest and recover.

His body’s ability to heal was what kept Arson perpetually awake, and with its reduction came the need for much needed sleep after each day.

Arson wasn’t able to fly out of the nest the same way he’d entered, as the drakes were completely roused, and the patrols around the majority of the optional exit points were now packed with the flying beasts.

This forced Arson to explore much of the nest, section by drake-infested section. He couldn’t believe the sights he came across. His wanderings taught him much about the drakes, and eventually came with a few benefits he wouldn’t have come across otherwise.

The first of the unexpected boons just so happened to be the opportunity to see DragonKin living in their natural habitat. Arson learned the anatomy of the creatures with every cadaver he came across. He also learned the fighting tactics of all the various types, small and large, and even learned how the ecosystem of the DragonKin remained stable and thrived, though the carnivorous creatures often killed each other off.

All of which he forgot after a solid night’s rest, but luckily for Arson, his watch delivered him consistent tips on how to defend himself against the drakes.

Arson was even able to see what the drakes birthing process included. The heavily guarded area was open, and filled with eggs of various sizes and colors.

Many of the female drakes were at first hard for him to distinguish from their male counterparts, but after seeing the body types more and more, he quickly realized many of the females presented wider figures especially just before they laid eggs.

The eggs were surrounded by magma that kept the eggs warm, and Arson didn’t dare get a closer look; already feeling a physical tension that made the hair on his head ripple in warning. Almost as if he knew instinctively that approaching the area below may stir the large sleeping dragon at the center of the nest.

While combing through the nest, Arson came across a cave filled with an odd energy that felt to him to be the antithesis of the draconic energy all around him. He moved in a natural crouch, his stealthy movements through the darkness practiced but not nearly as refined as his normal standard.

He peeked into the cave to see a large humanoid skeleton. The body almost two or three heads taller than Arson himself was built like that of the giants he’d fought previously, yet smaller. Almost as if the giant was a runt comparably to his brethren.

“What is that beside the body?” asked Arson’s watch. Arson’s eyes drifted to the giant's left hand where a beautiful bow sat. The weapon was made from what he assumed to be dragon bones, and from what his senses told him, was the exact item that permeated with the powerful energy he felt wafting out from the cave.

“It looks like a bow, do you think I should grab it?”

A flash of light pulsed through the room from Arson’s wrist, and his watch spoke up in warning.

“It doesn’t seem like it will cause any trouble, but from what my scans can tell, that bow may be what is keeping the drakes away from this section of the nest,” Anastasia said. Arson nodded and made his way closer.

It wasn’t until he was a handful of feet away from where the bones rested that he got a good look at the bows outward appearance. The unbalanced energies within his body had even caused his Closed Eye Dominion to become hazy; each blink coming with a storm of mana that made his head spin with vertigo. The disruption to his ability even made it hard for Arson to fall asleep at night, which caused him to push himself until he passed out from exhaustion.

“You may want to rest here tonight young one,” suggested Anastasia, and Arson nodded in confirmation, unable to pull his eyes away from the bow beside the giant’s remains.

“Good idea,” Arson said taking another step closer. Only for his watch to scream in alarm and stop the young man completely in his tracks.

“Woah, hold on, you don’t see that runic circle right there?”

Arson stopped and looked down. His foot but a few inches from a line of runes so intricate that it looked to Arson to be a woven line of lettering equivalent to art, or writing Anastasia described as calligraphy. The runic system rippled with dazzling light, and another pulse snapped out from Arson’s wrist as Anastasia scanned the runes.

“Do you think you can push a flood of mana into that rune on the far side of the room?”

Arson’s eyes followed a laser pointer Anastasia had begun to use to point him toward her focus, or points of interest they came across since his memory issues began. The pure white line of light landed on a symbol fractionally larger than the rest, and Arson made his way over.

He reached out slowly and pressed his index finger to the rune. The power he was supposed to feel within his center, his mind, and running through his body, was all but dormant at this point. Almost completely unreachable was any form of mana within him, an intangible wall of force formed between his senses and the energies he once relied on as easily as air to breathe.

“No I don’t think I can actually, was this easy to do before?”

“Umm, no, extremely difficult, just wondered,” lied Anastasia. The AI did want to know if he could pull it off, but didn’t like how Arson seemed to be on the verge of tears with every admission that Anastasia gave in regard to Arson’s former glory. His capabilities were extremely limited now, but Anastasia wouldn’t let that stop her from pushing him toward potentially finishing the trial. As he would most likely regain everything he’d lost, and though Anastasia would have once loved this horrific fate of a mentally weak Arson, she no longer did.

“Just keep your finger right there, I’m going to send some mana through your hand,” Anastasia said. The pulse of golden white poured through Arson’s hand and he giggled slightly as the sensation tickled as the energy rushed toward his fingertip.

A distortion was seen; the runes crumbling to dust once Anastasia connected to the runic system and withdrew the mana that powered the defensive circle that surrounded the skeleton.

“What would have happened if you didn’t do that?”

“A few things actually, a barrier would have formed, pumped you full of electricity, and the roof would have caved in, pouring lava all throughout the room.”

“That seems rather gruesome. How would I have normally handled all that?”

“Don’t get me started, young man. We probably could have spent more time talking about your options rather than actually doing any one thing, but hopefully this bow makes circumstances easier for you to handle.”

Arson nodded and stepped forward. His eyes couldn’t help but grow large at the sight of the weapon. Many more details revealed to him as he approached that were unnoticed even from the short distance from the edge of the runic system that blocked him from stepping forward.

“Wow…”

The bow looked to be made from only the bones of dragon wings. The lengths of both the upper and lower limbs were almost as tall as Arson himself, and were made from a weave of small and large bones that twisted perfectly to look like a pair of wings. Bones appeared with the same elegance of feathers to the point that Anastasia described them as angelic in quality.

“Wow, even the bow string is made from woven dragon teeth,” Anastasia said as Arson reached for the bow. The moment he touched it a thrum of power raced throughout his body and a vision filled his mind with flickering scenes of violence, accompanied by a woman’s singing voice.

“There is a reason you were born.” The singing woman’s voice was beautiful; the softness of the melody tearing through Arson’s mind as he was assaulted by images of battle. A first person perspective showing Arson a life unfamiliar to his own, a bow held in the hand of the owner of the weapon he’d just lifted into his own grip.

“Be as the wind in the top of the tree.” More of the vision showed the deadly nature of the bowman’s life. How they too had once been incredibly powerful, only to be drawn into the trial. A series of events shown as if Arson witnessed an entire life in reverse.

As the woman sang, Arson watched the bowman using the most astonishingly magnificent bow crafted below the heavens, being not only used to an unrivaled degree, but he also watched the bowman craft the weapon a single bone at a time with every drake and dragon killed.

“Everything thrums with the sound of existence.” The visions came faster and faster. Arson watched the life of the giant in mere breaths. The similarities between Arson’s own life, and the giant’s unknown experiences compared to the young man being forced to watch the life of a leader of Titans, was uncannily identical.

The bowman was born a runt to a ruling class of giants, and beyond all odds, found himself surprisingly a leader after a pain-filled life of struggle to the top of his family’s hierarchy. Arson’s own life wasn’t as difficult, but that may only be due to his age being far shorter in season cycles. A glimmer of the giants remaining consciousness knew this to be true as it roamed unfettered through Arson’s own memories; the past Arson had lived being untouchable and distant to him, but not to the presence held in the bow.

“With all is the end, and with none is a beginning untouched by those before them.”

The visions came to an end and Arson found himself staring up at a woman who picked him up from a crib. A singing giant as beautiful as his own mother lifting him up, holding him close as she protected her son from the world abroad. The words shared with her as a lullaby as a child passed on to her son and now Arson.

“Love is soft and easy, but through hate, life settles upon the shoulders of the mighty. Power is felt at a distance, but only retained by the kindest soul.”

Arson’s eyes shot open, only to flutter as he struggled to stay upright. He wobbled on his feet, lost his balance and was quickly unconscious.

Not but a few moments later Arson was snoring, once more leaving Anastasia alone and on guard. The young man at her side still held the bow for the entire day he slept, only letting the instrument go after lurching upright as if waking from a nightmare the following day.

“Woah, man my head hurts,” Arson said, slowly looking around.

“Where am I?”

Anastasia wasn’t even able to answer before Arson spoke up again.

“Why can’t I remember how I got here,” muttered Arson under his breath, completely speaking to himself. Yet Anastasia sighed and answered his question regardless of knowing that he spoke to himself in the same way he’d spoken to himself every other day he’d woken within the trial of infallible memory.

“Because your mind has been tampered with, and until we solve the mystery of this trial, your memories will not return…”

Arson lifted his wrist and looked at Anastasia. The AI did her best to smile up at the young man, even though her confidence in the situation waned drastically with each time she had to repeat the very same words she spoke next.

“Don’t you worry though, I got your back, I promise.”

…

Jade paced in a locker room before her next match. As a Dungeon ball champion, she’d long been awarded her own area to prepare for each match; yet somehow the space around her left her feeling restricted.

With each breath she took, the more she felt the walls close in around her. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt as if the sky was falling all around herself. As if water filled her lungs and she was moments away from choking to death.

None of the sensations made sense. Jade was a Cultivator powerful enough to ascend beyond her mortal coil. At the current point in her life she was nearly an immortal, so the feelings of her impending death that plagued her currently were completely unreasonable.

What is wrong with you, Elizabeth? Calm down and breathe. There is nothing going on, you will be fine…

Her core vibrated with power she had no memory or understanding of. Normally with as powerful as Jade had become, she wouldn’t have been affected by the realm shifting to conceal Arson’s attempt at a trial of divinity, but Arson’s connection to many powerful Cultivators, Immortals, and even Ancients, made the distortion across time and space realm shatteringly immense.

This caused all connected to Arson to be afflicted with various ailments they’d never experienced before. The system itself knew no other way to shift the world. Otherwise, those closely tied to Arson would be able to easily reason out the imperfections in both their distorted memories, and tainted lives without him.

So as the woman heard the match announcements begin, and felt her chest tighten in a way that she hadn’t felt since she was mortal and running for her life from her murderous elder brothers. Elizabeth Amorra Carter, now Jade of CloudLake knew that something was wrong with reality’s very laws, as an Immortal Cultivator couldn’t have a panic attack, yet Jade now was…

What in the…

Jade cursed. Her legs gave out and she toppled, her head struck the ground like a dropped brick.

“Sparks…”