Torchlights were lit in the pit that was Faus’s room. Illuminating the trapezoid that was the incomplete formation. Made of all the Splints he managed to find; bits and pieces of old toys, string, and tools dotted his scrapped line.
It was not the most efficient formation, but there was no way he was going to be able to find enough Splints to make a rhombus large enough, let alone a hexagon. So it was left to a trapezoid, just big enough to span his upper torso.
Faus carefully looked at the wire between his fingers, it was the last piece to complete the flow. Lopsided it maybe, this was the only way— hell so what if he didn’t have a rift, he was a Seeker once. He wielded Thame before, and he’ll do it again.
At least that’s what his confidence bolstered.
He took off his shirt, and took a breath to settle his thoughts before he finished the small side of the shape. Quickly, he laid his back upon the outline. Closing his eyes marking any sensation.
Sleep called to him, but he had to take focus. Only when Thame seeped into his body could he take control.
So began the wait into the night, the temperature of the room dropped every hour of nothing. The fire lost its source to burn, until there was darkness. All there was left was the beat of his heart, and a tingle in the center of his chest…
Faus smiled.
----------------------------------------
“There isn’t a clear way of harnessing the potential of Thame, discoveries have been made and lost over the centuries,” Ifeden exclaimed. “But if one thing was true, then none of them are without their downsides.”
Ifeden went on to their four they had documented.
A Master Awakening; requires both a master and the student to have the same type of innate Thame, along with an investment of the Master’s personal power that cannot be regained so easily.
An Avatar Awakening is perhaps the easiest and most intuitive, but your first bond is extremely sensitive. Sundering the connection while you're in the First Realm; Invoker, even the Second Realm; Pillar, would put your life in jeopardy, if not, at the very least, your time as a Seeker.
Formation Awakening is a tricky thing, an archaic form that the Curators never practiced. There were some notes, but nothing more than what shapes were the most common. The components required for such a thing remains a mystery, while the process heavily relies on the person knowing what they're looking for.
Lastly, there was Enlightenment. The rarest and distinctly unknown workings of such processes. The only thing that is known is that it happens without the help of the other three ways, and, most curiously, prominent from babies of less than two years of age.
Henry looked at the three of them, “So are you all my Masters then?”
Riker scoffed a laugh, “Our forms contain no innate properties. Even if we did, it would just kill our time.”
“What Riker means to say is that our forms are simply a reflection of our souls. Made up of Tae; or Neutral Thame if you will,” Ize explained. “If we shed any of the Thame we have left, our time to teach you will be cut shorter than it already is.”
Riker scowled.
“I’m assuming I’ll be doing the Avatar one?” Henry asked.
“Correct.” Ifeden explained, motioning to the podiums. “The qualifications an Avatar seeks amongst higher grades can be unique and sometimes personal, but for these Common, a simple alignment should suffice. Save for you being catastrophically unlucky.”
Henry gulped. Did he really need to throw that piece of information in there? His heart beat an uneasy tempo, looking to each of the podiums, grouped in threes… though besides rings, and necklaces, there was an ornate dagger and pair of gloves in the mix.
“Before we begin, I must make aware of this one thing.” Ifeden exclaimed. “These Avatars before you have been waiting milleiums, and though time might be a blink to them. They were still willing to wait for our cause, for their sacrifice and patience. We give thanks.”
“We give thanks.” Ize and Riker echoed.
Their attention focused on Henry, waiting…
“Thanks?” He hurried the reply, and a little bow. And then an awkward silence. “So is their like, a ritual or—“
“Just pick them up and try to focus on their Hearthstone, if nothing happens they’ll release themselves.” Riker interrupted.
Henry nodded, a bit unsure of what a “Hearthstone” really was… He guessed the little gem that each of them had was it.
Much to Riker’s dismay his podium was closer. And the bracelet was first, decorated with what looked like musical notes. Henry held it and focused… and focused…
Focusing so hard that his eyes leered—
“OW!” Henry shouted.
Riker came back around, having gone unnoticed, smacking Henry in the back of the head.
“It’s a little bit of attention, not a staring match.” Riker said, “Put it back.”
Henry rubbed the back of his head, “Fuckin’ bastard.” He whispered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” He replied, returning the bracelet. Letting it disappear into motes of light.
“Mphf.” Riker didn’t look to believe it for a second. “Why don’t you go about that other option, it's not…”
Henry zoned him out. A ring caught his eye. Looking somewhat like a shark’s jaw, a gem cradled in the center. He gently reached for it.
“…wasting time—!”
A ring in his palm, a deep green, ignited his vision. His body felt it was one fire— second to falling on the ground as a choir of dissipating Avatars set off from the other podiums.
“I do believe I’ve won the bet, karma exists.” Ize said cheerfully.
“Indeed.” Ifeden resounded.
“NO! This is ridiculous!” Riker pleaded against fate. “Why did it have to be Yor— how in stars is it an Ancient type?!”
Words became dull, muffled until he could only hear emotions of frustration and laughter.
Before the world went dark, there was a sharp sound. Like clamping… or chomping, as a name suddenly appeared in his mind.
Dimetrodon…
----------------------------------------
Ugh… Henry fell on himself trying to stand up.
“Am I going to just keep passing out.” He spoke openly.
“Your body is still adjusting,” He heard Ize speak. “Having an Awakening so soon must have put too much strain on your body.”
Henry groaned, resigning to sit before the three specters. The podiums were gone.
“Quite a conundrum, one that I didn’t think would happen considering...” Ifeden said.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“You think?” Riker said rhetorically, he pointed at Henry. “I had my bets on Anima— he comes from a world of technology!”
Ifeden nodded, obviously perplexed.
“Can’t do anything about it now can we?” Ize spoke.
Causing Riker to grumble, his eyes close. A brief crack in his demeanor… sadness upon his face— before he returned stoic.
There wasn’t much that could be done with Henry’s state. So, off to the side of the arena was a single door. Opening up a room, with basic commodities.
If Henry had to wonder what a medieval hotel would look like with some more high class furnishings— this would be it. Minus art woven into the fabrics and wood, instead it was filled with sets of browns, beiges, and baby blues. And it was honestly pretty damn nice.
“There are some extra clothes in the closet.” Ize spoke. “The other two waited by the door. “The bathroom is behind the secondary door, and to decrease the light simply tap the crystal by your nightstand or desk.”
“Thanks.” Henry replied.
“We’ll come back in a few hours to get started so please rest until then,” She relayed before all of them left the room— locking the door.
Leaving Henry to only one thing, falling on his bed.
So many things to be said, thought really. Only he brought his hand the light, with the ring firmly, and clearly attached to one of his fingers.
Henry was certain that it wasn’t on before, he tried to wiggled it to see if he could take it off— nothing. It felt as though he was pulling on his skin, like the thing was attached to it.
He huffed, a question for later.
Now he just wanted to close his eyes, and have it not be from passing it. Because he never wanted to feel like that again, ever.
----------------------------------------
About half… Faus thought, as he stretched.
He channeled Thame throughout his torso, waist, until it fell short of his legs and head.
It turned out much better than I hoped.
It took two weeks for each new troop to get the hang of it and complete their Awakening this way. But for him, it was looking to take a week, a few days if he focused. But it was the course of life; the young had vigor and resilience, while the old had wisdom.
Only Faus had cheated both of them, and revealed in pride. He almost felt giddy, to feel such accomplishment.
Scarkir… I’ll forever take hold of this chance you’ve given and see reach for the stars that our legends foretold.
He let go of his prayer with a smile. Though there was still one final test— the nature of his Thame.
Yor, Miasma, Anima… He wondered which of them he would feel when he was fully Awakened. For now he was only left with Tae. He had a few Traces that could work, but it would be nothing more than crippling his progress and face some physical backlash.
Though he wondered… could he just go straight to Pattern rather than Spell?
He shrugged, something for later.
Faus crept in the dark and lit one of his spare torches, getting himself ready for the day, or mid-day as he was thinking. His nap went far longer than he would have liked.
The corner of his eye caught the trapezoid, some of the items had broken down or cracked from their funnel of Thame. He picked up one of the string fibers that deteriorated into a line of fuzz in fascination. It always was— no matter how he thought about it— he was never quite sure why formations turn such items this way.
Surely there were chances or natural occurrences of these shapes in the world, but no. No matter how powerful the formation, or items placed, so long as no non-Awakened desired its effects, it wouldn’t function.
It was still so strange…
He chuckled, finding more space for his curiosity than before. Maybe they have some more insight in the library?
Faus settled down the mundane items in his chest, fixing himself up properly with a bit of coin to head to the only place of self learning within the city.
The sun was past two, not ideal, the library only staying open to the public until dusk he had but a few more hours to look up somethings he had questions for.
Much as he boasted about sneaking into the place when he was younger, he had only been able to do so because the headman was taking time for himself. Leaving to his nephew, who very much liked to put his head down and “pretend” to sleep during the late night shift.
He hoped to have some luck on that end.
Winding through the streets to one of the more pristine districts, the buildings stood old, in need of repair compared to the rest of the street. But that was the nature of the place, the lord couldn’t get rid of it because of its history, yet it wouldn’t receive any more funding besides those who bought a night pass; allowing entry into the building after dark, candle light not included.
He walked in through the door, it saw an old man; Griken, and his dream of free entry was snuffed out. Hunched over his desk reading over something with his thick glasses. His presence guarded the archway leading the library.
“Excuse me, I would like an entry for the rest of the day.” Faus said.
Griken looked up, squinting before in recognition. “Fritz? Haven’t seen you in a while boy.”
Faus shrugged, “Things have been busy… and tough to get the right coin.”
Griken nodded sagely, reaching behind his desk and pulling out one of the thick candles, though more than half-worn. “Can’t give you a discount lad, but if you pay for the extra two hours of this candle you can stay past dusk.”
“Seriously?” Maybe he did have a little luck to himself.
“You never damaged the books like the others, I trust you don’t burn them as well.”
Faus, with a heavy hand, gave the coin. “Thank you.”
Griken nodded, returning to his book. “When you need a light just come back with your candle.”
Passing through the arch was an experience every time. A breath in awe, the smell of knowledge. And the pure silence that dissuaded even a mouse from coming here often.
He was alone— perfect.
The first level had the common area; tables and chairs were set out, with the brunt of the books and shelves lining the walls and floor. It was filled with the more “common” and “insensitive” pieces that could be found anywhere from what Griken said long ago. The second level; more a balcony circling the floor, was the single copies, and foreign covers.
He wouldn’t find anything here to sunder the land from the nobility that ruled… no, those would probably be burned under their mantles. But things of other kingdoms and lands were a different story.
Faus walked up the stairs, his hands gliding along the books. Reminiscing about the past, both as he was old and whole, young and incomplete. The burning desire to take hold of whatever knowledge he could, and survive for a purpose.
He hoped to relieve some of his curiosity, with a little luck, he could settle himself before he took his leaps of faith.
Hours passed. Dusk approached as books stacked high upon the table. Referencing, deciphering century old maps brought him an end. Though it was not the name he was fighting for there was one insurmountable reference.
{
Within the Age of Falling Stars the Kingdom of Lelni was born.
…
Its foundation determined at the battle of Three Misfortunes; as the prelude to the Age of Incineration.
Three armies stood exhausted, their resources expended. Their great powers lost to the artifacts at hand to survive catastrophe, only the Lelni’s Ancestral Nobility stood without Thame. Reinforcements quickly supported the tried army from the collapse of a Unique Ranked Rift, though weak for their time, they were enough to bolster Lelni’s defenses and repel the other Kingdoms.
…
}
Faus let go of a breath deep within his soul, they won— they had won.
1,478 years ago, if his math was right…
The time was staggering, legends spoke of Seekers living for a thousand years but the closest he had ever known was one approaching three hundred— within the Monolithic Realm.
They had helped the resistance briefly, acting as a surveyor for Trials within key points of interests. It's how the rebellion was able to amass as many Heirlooms as they did— had…
He didn’t know what to think, leaning back. Faus fought for the children, the people that couldn’t live peacefully in their own village anymore. He had made peace with never seeing any of them again. Because, what did they know of the old man?
No wife, no kids of his own, barely a few neighbors and old friends still around to talk to. Though everything dwindled on, he remembered the smiles, the laughter ringing in his ear, the serenity of it all. He had made peace in his old age, when the first of his generation died, from it.
Only that time was long past… but there was still a bud in his stomach. And hard looked into his eyes as everything went a little fuzzy.
Everything fell away to time.
Stars— all of it— especially the decline of Seekers; how the hell did they even fall and what was the Age of Incineration?…
So many questions, so little daylight.
Faus hurried to put the books away and lit his candle from Griken, before he moved onto the history of open wars.
When Seekers challenged Gates not for a chance at Ascension, but to run away from the catastrophes born of ruptured Trials and mad Seekers.