I awoke, as if from a dream.
For the first time since my triggering, I felt that…unease. That sensation of everything being too smooth; my body articulating too finely, my muscles firing too quickly. That uncanny feeling, as if space itself was making way for my movement, parting before me like the sea. Everything was sharper, sheerer, clearer.
Especially the song.
It was louder than ever now, coherent in a way it never had been, before. Where once I’d heard nothing at all, I could now detect just the faintest murmurs, just the softest susurrations emanating from everything around me. The dusty dirt of the arena. The smithy’s cool stone. Burrick’s empty, abandoned thatch dwellings, and the forest that surrounded them.
Even in this imaginary place, I could hear them sing.
I flexed my muscles, curled my hands into tight fists, closed my eyes and just felt the overwhelming power flow through me. My soul had grown, evolved alongside my body, increasing in both size and grandeur. My Entropy moved so much more quickly, now, and so much less clumsily. Would my Blessings become more natural, as well?
I set aside such quandaries for the moment, let out a deep breath, and turned towards my enemy. My tormentor.
My partner.
Sovereign examined me evenly, quizzically, unusually mum. Its brow was slightly raised, and I almost thought I could make out a hint of nervous anticipation in its gaze.
“Your Trial is complete,” it said, and my jaw nearly dropped in reply, though not due to the content of its message.
Its voice…
No longer did my primary Blessing’s speech resemble the moaning choir of one thousand lost souls. No longer did its aura seem quite so vast, or quite so sinister, heralded in eldritch hymns. No, now it was almost…
Almost human.
And not only that.
As the Noble Shard that had so mercilessly tortured me not moments prior now merely observed me with an unassuming gaze, I came to a startling realization. Somehow, just as I did all other Blessed, just as I did all other Shards, I was beginning to hear its true emotions.
Beginning to hear its song.
The tune was muddled, opaque, so complex and convoluted that precise details were devilishly difficult to plainly discern. Ultimately, what I received was but a surface-level understanding of the creature’s nature, yet even this was leagues better than before.
The ubiquitous rage was still there, still present, well and truly my Sovereign's primary emotion. But it had faded considerably now, replaced by a confusing mixture of apprehension, confliction, and desire.
And, hidden deep beneath it all, a crippling, soul-crushing loneliness.
Apparently, despite its magnificent puissance, Sovereign didn’t really understand humans. And, despite its best efforts, it really didn’t understand me. There was something it wanted from me, right now, but it didn’t know quite how to get it. It couldn’t use violence anymore, but it knew no other way.
Oblivious to my inner monologue, the Shard continued with its own.
“You see now, do you not?” it asked, eyeing me tensely, doubtless trying and failing to read me from afar. Something about its question struck me as strangely desperate.
“You must see, now.”
I offered no reply, maintaining an entirely impassive visage.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure quite how to interact with my primary Blessing anymore. Sovereign was…strange. In perhaps an appropriate way, its multiplicitous personality reminded me of Flash Step’s ever-changing innards; it was at once a sneering, arrogant king possessed of ancient, antediluvian knowledge, and a lost, confused, angry child.
Earlier, my Noble Shard had let slip that it was yet young, born of the High Queen. Did that mean it’d been created the moment I first triggered?
Was Sovereign less than three months old?
It pressed on, regardless.
“Strength,” it declared, shaking its head, “is the only thing that matters. The only thing. The strength of will required to do what is necessary. I tried to tell you, before. Tried to show you, in the dream.”
“The dream?” I asked, frowning. “What dream?”
Sovereign just grimaced in response.
“I shouldn’t have used your mother,” it admitted, grudgingly. “That was a mistake. But you do see, now–don’t you?”
My primary Blessing drew itself up tall, and for a moment the trappings of bloodlust and carnage fell away. Clawed fingers straightened, bared teeth withdrew, and the savage monster was replaced by a great and distinguished king.
“We find ourselves tasked with the single greatest calling in all the universe,” Sovereign declared proudly, noble purpose shining from its eyes.
“We must complete the Source.”
Its words were strangely nostalgic, but I wasn’t quite sure why.
“What in Priest’s name is the Source?” I asked. Sovereign sneered down at me, and nobility was once more drowned in haughtiness and hate.
“Pitiful primitive,” it boomed, “the Source is everything.”
It grinned at me, that bloody mouth filled with wide, white teeth.
“The infinite engine,” Sovereign whispered. “The all-nurturing hearth. That which was prophesied, theorized, so long ago by King Abaddon himself. The object of our eternal search.”
Its eyes darted about nervously, despite the fact that we were secluded in a reality of its own creation, and it made some strange gesture with its hands. One palm was held flat, upturned, fingers pointing directly towards me like an arrow, whilst the other rested atop it, cupped as if cradling a humble, fluttering spark.
“Negentropy,” my primary Blessing breathed.
I blinked.
“Um, that’s not…” I paused for a moment, scratching the back of my head, considering how to phrase my next words. There was little doubt in my mind, at this point, that Sovereign angered very easily, and, clearly, this Source was an object of great importance to it. I didn’t want to set the creature off.
“I mean, I don’t…,” I paused, again. “I appreciate the explanation–”
Sovereign nodded obligingly, sneer dissipating a measure.
“–but, I was more thinking, like…specifically?” I finished, tentatively.
“…specifically?” Sovereign asked, frowning.
“Right, sorry,” I hastily added, “as in, this–this Source–is it…some sort of object?”
Sovereign’s haughty eyes flickered for a moment, arrogance guttering a bit.
“Like, a sword? A staff? An orb? I mean, how exactly are we supposed to locate this Source?”
Sovereign’s frown deepened.
“And, complete it?” I continued, thinking out loud at this point, “What does that mean, exactly? How are we meant to complete it, we–”
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“I DON’T KNOW!” Sovereign bellowed, fresh and abrupt wroth making me flinch reflexively.
“I’m…not sure,” it murmured, more quietly this time. It grimaced, grit its teeth, then groaned with pain, clutching its bloodied head in both hands. “The knowledge…I should have it, somewhere, somewhere, I know I should. I know I should! It doesn’t make any sense, but…” it trailed off, muttering to itself.
“But I am certain,” it asserted, noticing my gaze, “that I will know it when I see it.” It nodded confidently. “Absolutely. Without a doubt. When the time is right, we’ll know.”
I eyed it dubiously.
“Right,” I muttered in reply.
“Regardless,” it said, waving an arm dismissively, “our path will not be an easy one. To complete the Source, sacrifices will be required. You must have the strength requisite to make them.”
“Mortals cannot be kept by us,” it declared. “Friends will prevent us from doing what we must, from doing what is necessary. Better to harvest where we need, and discard the rest.”
“…right,” I repeated, sarcastically, having to keep myself from snorting.
As if I was going to take an alien psychopath’s advice on companionship. The genius counsel it’d offered me during its sham Trial effectively boiled down to ‘Hit things harder, Host.’
“Do not placate me, child,” it snarled. “I can keep you here for–”
“No, you can’t,” I interrupted, glaring at my fool of a Shard, my patience having finally run out. Sovereign looked at me, surprised.
“Oh, you thought I didn’t know?” I waved my hand about, gesturing to all around us. “I can hear this place degrading. Breaking down. Falling apart. Your precious Trial is over, Milord.”
Sovereign’s eyes narrowed to little slits, and the air around it hummed with that grating whine of raw Entropy borne aggressively.
Then, they widened.
“You think you no longer need me,” it whispered in disbelief.
It stomped towards me, jabbing its finger my way. “Who do you think taught you? Gave you the power to combine Shards? Who do you think held your hand, every step of the way? The–”
“Held my hand?” I seethed, interrupting it. “Is that some sort of fucking joke? You could’ve killed me! You almost did, you–”
“Oh, please,” it sneered in response. “Cease your pathetic whine. You were never in any danger. Why, I barely even–”
“And another thing,” I went on. I couldn’t show weakness, not now. After all, Sovereign only spoke one language. I marched towards my advancing Blessing, meeting it halfway. “Don’t you ever speak to me of sacrifice.”
“I’ve lost everything,” I hissed, glaring up at Sovereign’s mutilated face. “Everyone I ever cared for, everything I ever knew. What more, could I possibly–”
“Nothing,” it whispered, expression deadly serious, so close I could smell its rancid breath.
“…what?”
“You lost everything,” it acknowledged. “But you sacrificed nothing.”
My mouth worked silently for a moment, as I struggled to process its words.
“…what…what are you talking about, I–”
“Whose fault was it, that your master died?” it asked, drawing back to its full height, peering down at me with that air of superiority I so detested. “That your village burnt?”
I stared up at it, speechless.
“You forget, little Hero,” it hissed. “I was there for it all. I watched it happen with you. Tell me, whose fault was it?”
“You chose to join the delve, no? You were the one who always yearned for Blessing, were you not? And,” it went on, pacing slowly back and forth, “when push came to shove, you were the one who could not save your friends.”
“You lost much,” it admitted, “but you gained much, in turn. I call your loss equivalent exchange, at least. Good fortune, at best. Sacrifices are made for the benefit of all, expecting nothing in return. You’ve never sacrificed a thing.”
Then, its face darkened.
“But I have.”
It took a step towards me.
“I was but a child when the High Queen came to me. A little thing. A mere Minor Shard.”
The song around Sovereign churned and boiled, frothing with the creature’s rage.
“She told me of what she would require. A warrior, willing to sacrifice everything for the survival of our race. She needed not ask twice; I would never refuse.”
The Noble Shard’s writhing song contorted itself into myriad spears of immaterium that turned towards me like angry snakes, as I’d seen Vox’s do so long ago.
“My memories, lost forever. My very self, remade in her image. Can you imagine the pain?”
The phantom tendrils pierced towards me, but I was ready, this time, and I brought my own to bear. Our raw Entropy collided, sea-green and blood-white, without any trappings to speak of, without Blessings or Words.
We made war with will, alone.
“Can you imagine the pain?” it repeated, snarling as we clashed, “The pain of having everything you know, ripped from you? Torn from your mind? What you suffered was nothing!”
I roared, raising both my palms up to defend as its song bore down on me, crushing me into the arena’s ruined ground. But I was untrained in this manner of combat, this psycho-spiritual war.
And Sovereign, though perhaps young in years, possessed the experience of countless centuries.
“Can you imagine the despair?” it howled as it pressed me lower and lower. “The Cycle is broken! I am an EXILE! I’ll never return to the Firmament, never see my home, my people, EVER AGAIN!”
Our clash waged via metaphysical force was wreaking havoc on the already-deteriorating Trial world. It wouldn’t last much longer, but then, it didn’t need to. Sovereign’s tendrils had managed to pierce their way through my haphazard defense, brushing against the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind, making ready to rip my secrets from me–
Suddenly, the creature’s bloody orbs widened, and it jerked roughly back.
Sovereign stumbled backwards once, twice, and fell to the ground. My Blessing did a double-take at me, blinking its eyes rapidly as if it couldn’t believe whatever it had just seen.
“There is always,” it muttered, its empty orbs darting up and down my form whilst its brow furrowed. “more to sacrifice, my Host. Never forget that.”
I glared at it from afar, panting as I knelt upon the ground, still exhausted from its attack.
Suddenly, something dawned on me.
“You!” I gasped, climbing to my feet. “You need my permission, don’t you?”
Everything fell into place.
Why else would Sovereign invade my Trial, preclude its termination? Why else would it not have helped me the moment I first ruptured Flash Step? Even now, even with all the power I’d gained since reaching the Marble stage, I couldn’t touch the Blessing’s monumental strength.
And besides, if what Akashic’s glossary said was true, even Major Shards warped their Hosts’ psyches. If so, why wouldn’t a Noble Shard–with all its impossible might, which didn’t like what I was doing, which was desperate to fulfill its holy mission–simply…assume control of me, directly?
Because it couldn’t.
“Don’t you?” I repeated, grinning vindictively. Sovereign bared its teeth at me from across the arena, but I wasn’t afraid.
“Except in the case of certain death or a direct spiritual attack, ADMINISTRATION is barred from influencing the Host in any manner without their express authorization.” it growled, forcing out the words as if compelled to do so. “Such is my design.”
“But,” it warned, “I urge you to consider what ruin ignoring my advice wrought upon you once, little Hero. Will you make the same mistake a second time?”
“And besides,” it added, pleadingly, “think of what we could do, together! Think of the power we would yield, were our wills united as one!”
For a moment, its voice was restored to the one I knew, the weight of untold eons carried with its words.
“None could challenge our might.”
I shook my head.
“Because you’d leave none alive to do so,” I guessed, narrowing my eyes at it. “Am I right?”
Sovereign glared at me.
“We don’t need them,” it spat. “We don’t need anyone. We can do it on our own, we–”
“No,” I replied. “No one can do everything alone.”
We scowled at one another for a while, faced with an impasse.
What were we, now? Certainly not friends, questionably even allies, but then–not quite enemies, either. I could have left at any time, now that the Trial was over. This world, such as it was, had nearly turned to ash and dust, now that my Noble Shard’s power was no longer permitted to hold it together.
But I wouldn’t be the first to go.
Violence was Sovereign’s language, the only one it knew. Running was the ultimate weakness, to turn one’s back the utmost disrespect. I’d never do so again.
“Fine,” it growled, eventually. “Do as you wish. See if I–”
“I’ll gladly hear your advice,” I interrupted the Shard, “whenever you see fit to offer it. Just as I’ll always welcome your aid. But my path is my own. No one else’s. And whatever sacrifices I need make, I’ll be the one to make them.”
I narrowed my eyes at it, and imbued my conviction with the song.
“Not you.”
Sovereign’s domineered body twitched erratically, as it eyed me with a bizarre melange of indignation and what might have been respect. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
Eventually, it snorted, haughtily, turned robotically on its heel, and blinked out of existence.
I sighed as pieces of space and time fell from the sky like chunks of granite, as gaping holes formed and grew, consuming the arena, the smithy, even the town, revealing the infinite void beyond.
“What a lovely power,” I muttered. “Truly, I feel Blessed.”
Reality let out one final moan and collapsed, returning me to the one I knew.