The party traveled for a while through the dense woods, following a winding path that seemed to stretch endlessly ahead of them. The trees loomed tall, their canopies forming a natural archway that blocked much of the sunlight, casting eerie shadows on the ground. Despite the growing tension, Samuel’s cooking skills proved invaluable. As they set up camp for the evening, Samuel prepared a hearty stew that filled the air with a comforting smell.
As the stew simmered, the group gathered around the fire. Walther, taking a break from poring over ancient texts, began to share stories about Jaunaroth and Clostridius. "Jaunaroth was the realm’s second inceptor," he started, his voice carrying a blend of reverence and caution. "He was a wise and powerful figure who created the deity shackles to prevent another disaster like the one caused by Clostridius."
Basil leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued. "What exactly happened with Clostridius?" he asked.
Walther poked at the fire. "Clostridius, the usurper from the realm’s first inception, was blinded by greed and ambition. He neglected the D-class I TC patchwork—Triggers and Constraints. This patchwork was crucial for maintaining the integrity of magical laws and shackles that held the realm together. Clostridius tampered with it, trying to bend the rules to his will. His actions inadvertently unshackled The Pantheon of Broken Creators, a group of benevolent but weak gods."
Basil furrowed his brow. "But if they were benevolent, why was that a problem?"
"The problem," Walther explained, "was not with the gods themselves but with the balance of power. Clostridius's meddling destabilized the entire magic of the realm. When he tried to fix his mistake, he only made it worse. Within days, the shackles began to break down randomly, and ancient, forgotten beings—far more dangerous than the Pantheon—began to return. This led to the realm's first implosion."
Basil felt a shiver run down his spine. He looked around the darkening forest and then back at Walther. "And Jaunaroth?"
"Jaunaroth, seeing the devastation caused by Clostridius, established the deity shackles to enforce strict rules and prevent such chaos from happening again. He made it so that families burdened with D-class patches, like the Office of the Singularity, must be matriarchal. This was to ensure a more balanced and cautious approach to managing these powerful yet dangerous patches."
Basil nodded slowly, absorbing the gravity of the history Walther recounted. He realized the weight of their current situation with the newly acquired patch and the incomplete documentation. The implications were vast and potentially catastrophic if mishandled.
"Walther, can you explain more about the deity shackles?" Basil asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. "How do they work exactly?"
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
Walther leaned back, considering his words carefully. "The deity shackles are magical constructs created by Jaunaroth to bind certain powerful entities and enforce rules. Each shackle is attuned to a specific deity and a set of magical principles. When a shackle is in place, it prevents the bound deity from interfering with the realm's natural order. However, breaking a shackle releases the entity, sometimes with less than ideal consequences."
He continued, "For example, the shackle of the Pantheon of Broken Creators kept these gods in a state of dormancy. When Clostridius tampered with the I TC patchwork, he inadvertently unshackled them, causing chaos. The documentation for each patchwork details how to maintain these shackles and avoid catastrophic failures."
Walther reached into his satchel and pulled out an old, worn book. “This is an example of documentation for an abandoned patchwork,” he said, opening the book to reveal intricate diagrams and detailed instructions. “This particular patchwork was A CXXXII – Remote Atmospheric Influence, a very obscure and less-known subclass. The documentation explains how to manage the patch, the rituals required, and the potential consequences of neglect.”
Basil leaned closer as Walther began to flip through the yellowed pages, revealing a wealth of knowledge that had been meticulously recorded. The first page was an ornate illustration of a symbol, a distant cloud with a subtle glow, representing the Remote Atmospheric Influence patchwork.
“This patchwork was known as A CXXXII RAI—Remote Atmospheric Influence, the one hundred thirty-second chapter of the A-class tome,” Walther explained. “It allowed the controller to subtly influence weather patterns from a distance, making it a less direct but still powerful form of weather manipulation.”
He turned to a page filled with diagrams showing various atmospheric phenomena and how to manipulate them using specific incantations and artifacts. “Here, you can see the different rituals required to invoke the powers of the patchwork,” Walther said, pointing to a detailed illustration of a ceremony involving a stone altar and a series of runes etched into the ground. “Each ritual had to be performed precisely, with the correct timing and elements, to ensure the desired outcome. The patchwork itself grants power, but without the proper rituals and knowledge, it can be as dangerous as it is beneficial.”
Basil was fascinated. “And what happened if these rituals were neglected?” he asked.
Walther’s expression grew serious. “The consequences of neglect were dire,” he replied. “If the patchwork was not properly maintained, the balance of the weather could be disrupted, leading to catastrophic events. For example, a failed subtle influence ritual could result in prolonged periods of imbalance, causing unexpected weather patterns.”
He turned to a section that detailed a historical account of a family that had once controlled the Remote Atmospheric Influence patchwork. “This family, the Morvans, held the patchwork for generations,” Walther continued. “But over time, their knowledge and adherence to the rituals waned. The documentation shows that they neglected a crucial influence ritual, leading to a series of unforeseen weather anomalies that ravaged their lands and ultimately caused their downfall.”
The pages depicted vivid scenes of destruction—crops failing due to unexpected frosts, livestock lost to sudden floods, and entire villages abandoned due to unpredictable weather. “The Morvans’ neglect not only ruined their own lands but also caused suffering in neighboring territories. The anomalies they failed to control spread far and wide, affecting countless lives,” Walther said, shaking his head.
Basil nodded, absorbing the history Walther told. He realized the weight of their current situation with the newly acquired patch and the incomplete documentation.
“This is why documentation is crucial,” Walther emphasized. “Without it, we are like blind men trying to navigate a fast horse on a curvy path. Every detail, every ritual, and every precaution must be known and followed to maintain the balance and harness the patch’s power effectively.”
As the fire crackled and the night grew darker, Walther carefully closed the book and placed it back in his satchel. The group fell silent, the weight of their mission settling heavily on their shoulders. Samuel’s stew was ready, and they ate quietly, each lost in their thoughts. The fire cast flickering shadows on their faces.
After the meal, they settled into their makeshift beds. The night was calm, too calm in fact. Basil had trouble catching sleep and was stuck in ruminations, only falling asleep while the rest of the party was already snoring loudly.