For the second time that day, I jolted awake.
I gasped, sucking in air greedily, still poisoned by the sensation of suffocating in the vacuum that had surrounded me not moments ago. My mind swam with visions of eldritch larvae and glowing gold centipedes. What…what in Priest’s name was that?
I knew that Blessed were supposed to undergo trials, visions, when they received their gifts, but not when they triggered initially. And besides, the trials were meant to be scenes from one’s past, intended to teach a lesson. The Faith said that trials were meant to test the will of a Blessed, opportunities to demonstrate their strength of mind and prove they were ready to gain the next level of power.
But I’d never seen anything like that before in my entire life, and I was pretty sure I’d remember if I had. What possible lesson could that vision have been trying to teach me? Slowly, as I drank deep the air that still stank of mimic and human blood, I came to a startling realization.
I felt good.
Not just well-rested and recovered, better. Stronger, faster, more alert. Was this how Blessed normally felt upon triggering? I had no idea. I looked down and flexed my right arm in amazement, somehow fully restored despite a pulverized version still scattered in pulpy pieces on the ground before me.
An impossibility.
Triggering didn’t restore body parts. It just didn’t. Maybe I’d received a regeneration Blessing? Swallowing nervously, I decided there was no reason to wait any longer. Heart pounding, one fist clenched tightly at my side, I extended the other before me and spoke the word for what must have been the millionth time:
“Grimoire.”
Instantly, without a moment’s delay, an object coalesced before my very eyes. No one else would ever be able to see it, for it belonged to me alone. It was an ancient tome, thick and heavy, bound with golden chains that resembled the centipede from my vision, and covered entirely in an indecipherable, arcane script. Upon the center of its cover was a sigil that looked like a crown made out of hands.
It floated placidly in the air before me. I lowered my hand, noticing that I could control the book by mind alone. With a thought, I bade it come closer, and open. My Grimoire obeyed my commands, drifting nearer and flipping to its first page.
With bated breath, I read the words inscribed upon it.
~~~
Hero
Attunement: ADMINISTRATION 5. The High Queen, ADMINISTRATION is the paramount Noble Shard, representing the Entity’s brain, to which all other shards are subservient. Though the Host does not immediately have access to all of the shard’s reality-warping capabilities, as they lack both the gestalt infrastructure and the Entropy stores to do so, they will unlock them as they gain Attunement.
At its most basic, ADMINISTRATION allows the Host to create full copies of the shards they encounter. Copied shards do not gain gifts, and must always start at Attunement 1. Copied shards may grow in Attunement in the same manner as ADMINISTRATION, becoming stronger over time, though they may never reach higher Attunement than ADMINISTRATION itself.
The Host has five slots in which copied shards may be inserted, becoming “Active.” Once active, shards may not be removed. Additionally, the Host has five slots in which shards may be “saved” for future use. The Host does not receive power from saved shards, nor will they grow in Attunement. Saved shards may be dismissed and re-saved as desired.
The true power of ADMINISTRATION is the capability to both combine and evolve copied shards according to shard affinity and Host understanding, creating powerful gestalts in the same manner as the Entities. Merged shards will assume the Attunement that the higher shard possessed prior to combining. Active shards may be combined, or saved shards may be merged into active shards.
Due to ADMINISTRATION’s involvement in the creation of the Blessed System, the Host’s Grimoire is upgraded. These upgrades grant access to some features originally intended to be standard in each Blessed, which Akashic did not have time to implement. The Host may gain more upgrades over time.
Current upgrades include: Detailed descriptions, full status observation, and glossary.
Grain: Shard Broadcast Attunement. The Host is able to comprehend the Shardsong, the language of Shards and Entities.
Active Slots:
* Empty.
* Empty.
* Empty.
* Empty.
* Empty.
Save Slots:
* Empty.
* Empty.
* Empty.
* Empty.
* Empty.
Good luck, Hero. The survival of both our races depends on you.
~~~
I was frozen in place.
I could barely breathe. I struggled to think straight. Though I was swiftly becoming weary of thinking it over and over again, I thought it all the same: Impossible. This was impossible. So much about this was impossible.
Five powers.
No one had five powers. No one. Everyone had one Blessing, but only one. It might be weak or powerful, have a narrow expression or a broad one, might have any number of gifts, but nobody got more than one.
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Despite knowing I was alone, I glanced around nervously. What did this mean? Was my trigger somehow…broken? I remembered the glitching, flickering part of the vision from before. Was that not supposed to happen?
And the multiple powers were just the tip of the iceberg. The description made no sense, it made no sense.
I hadn’t ever known a Blessed, few in the village had even met one, and they tended to keep the details of Blessings secret from others. But it didn’t matter. They were everywhere. The Faith preached about them constantly. Some knowledge just became commonplace. Your Grimoire was supposed to give a description of your blessing.
A short one. A succinct one. A vague one.
Like, fire is yours to command or fly the skies on winds of your own making or lightning drives you forward.
Shit like that.
That was the point. That was the whole point. A Blessing was a gift from the Gods, from the Holy Triumvirate, but it wasn’t just given away for free. If it told you exactly what it did it’d be too easy. Too easy to increase your Attunement. Too easy to grow in power.
This…this was something else entirely. I mean, half of it I didn’t even understand. I knew what Attunement meant, obviously, and Entropy. Although, the way the Grimoire had written Entropy, it sounded…special in some way. Different, carrying more meaning than how I said it. Host, yet another term I’d heard nothing of, I could at least assume referred to myself.
But what the fuck were shards? Were they the same thing as Blessings? What the fuck were Entities? What was the Blessed System, and who was Akashic? What did each of my Grimoire’s upgrades mean? I searched my Grimoire for glossary, and all I got was an empty list.
The questions just kept coming, relentlessly.
At every 5 Attunement a Blessed would increase in power, undergoing a trial to receive a Gift. A Gift would upgrade their power, allowing them to enter the next stage of their development. I knew this. I also knew what the first three stages were. Almost everyone did.
Grain, Marble, and Core.
Passing each stage made a Blessed faster, tougher, and stronger. But at the Core stage, they changed. Coalescing their Core would turn a Blessed into an Immortal. A Godkin. A deity in their own right. Ageless and deathless. Powerful beyond belief. The strongest Blessed in the world were Immortals.
But why had I started at Attunement 5?
My Grain was already formed. It was, no doubt, why I awoke feeling so much better than before. But it, too, was absurd. No one, not even pureborn Blessed, started at Attunement above 1. It couldn’t be, yet it was.
More confoundingly still, my Grain apparently allowed me to hear the Shardsong, something the Grimoire referred to as the language of Shards and Entities. Was this the song I’d heard all my life? Had I somehow been Blessed before, yet also not? Half-Blessed? Was that why it was so difficult for me to trigger? How was such a thing even possible?
I rubbed my head in frustration and anxiety. This was supposed to be what I’d dreamed of, waited for, sacrificed everything for, yet all I felt was worry twisting deep within my stomach. Most concerningly of all, was the last sentence of my power’s description. It referred to me by name.
It called me Hero.
Setting aside the ridiculousness of the name, how? How could my Blessing do such a thing?
Blessings did assign names, but based on the power itself, not any desire of the Blessed. Powers weren’t sentient. They couldn’t be. We might understand them, in the same way we might understand a river or the sun, but they would never understand us back. Yet, somehow, mine appeared to know me very well indeed. Well enough to know my lifelong dream of being a hero.
Was it the golden centipede from before? Was that…that…thing somehow the source of my power? Was it the shard my Grimoire referred to, or perhaps an Entity?
Wincing, I cast my mind back to the horrific vision. The starborn insect had said that its survival depended upon me. Me. What a ludicrous proposition. How could I, a mere mortal, do anything that it could not?
It’d mentioned the Warrior by name.
The Warrior was real. He was real, and his return was nigh. He was going to finish what he started, this time with no Holy Triumvirate to face him.
Did it want me to fight him?
My stomach clenched, fine hairs rising on the back of my neck, pulse racing beneath my skin. Impossible. No way. There was, there was simply no way. I was imagining things, drawing connections where there were none. The Warrior was a myth, and the vision must have had some other meaning.
I shook myself, doing my best to purge the anxiety from my mind. So many questions, and I had no idea where to even begin finding answers. I knew one thing, though.
I had to get the fuck out of this dungeon.
I dismissed my Grimoire and examined the room. My position hadn’t changed at all since prior to the vision. Moreover, the thick blood coating both myself and the wood around me seemed just as fresh as ever. It felt as if I’d spent an eternity in that airless hell, but had no time truly passed at all?
I frowned, and tried hard to focus on the present. I tried hard not to focus on Aldwyn’s still-fresh corpse. For a moment, I debated attempting to bring it with me, to give him a proper burial back at the village, but eventually decided against it. I had no idea at all what more the Labyrinth had in store for me, and handicapping myself would quickly lead to death.
Still frowning, I looked down at what remained of my sword. Useless. Not only was it broken in two, the pieces themselves were covered in rust and gore, their edges dulled by countless marks and notches. I wouldn’t be using it anymore.
The knight’s greatsword was largely unblemished, however.
Humming in consideration, I made my way over to the blade. It was gigantic, almost the same size as me. I’d never used such a sword before, but had to imagine it was better than nothing. Leaning over, I picked it up.
I was startled by just how light the weapon felt. Though difficult to wield with only one hand, and ungainly in length besides, it was a far cry from the immovable hunk of metal I’d imagined it to be. Just how much had my Blessing increased my strength?
Now, for the hard part.
Turning, I reached over to Aldwyn’s macerated form. His face was white now, pale as a ghost from all the bloodloss. His eyes though, were closed, and his face seemed at peace. As I retrieved the rusted iron key from within the pockets of his leathers, I considered him.
I was too exhausted to weep. The shock, horror, and desperation of the past day had drained me, if not physically, then emotionally. Still, a deep sadness overtook me at the sight of him. Aldwyn had died for me, sacrificed his life for me, and yet I had become exactly what he warned me away from.
At the very least, I could honor his memory. I could make use of my Blessing to accomplish what we set out to do; gather crystals and return to the village. Bring wealth and prosperity to Burrick, putting our town on the map.
I laid my hand upon his brow, and gave a final prayer, though to whom I knew not.
I will not lose myself, old friend. I promise.
With that, I stood, hefted the gilded greatsword over my shoulder, and made for the main door. Upon inserting the key, it vanished in a shower of purple sparks, and the door swung open. A cobblestone hallway was revealed before me. So, the dungeon was not finished after all.
I breathed deep, squared my shoulders, and set forth once more.