I cracked my neck gently, and took one more deep breath.
Normally, my manipulations of the song were free-form, conjured by mind alone via the manipulation of raw Entropy, untroubled by the great interlocking eldritch mechanisms of order and purpose that were my Shards.
But that would no longer do. In this place, in this room, on this floor, I could not afford the time spent visualizing Fire, or flight, prior to using them. I could not afford the all-exclusionary focus required to scan my surroundings manually in the song.
To survive, I would need to go further.
I would need to create my own powers. My own simulacra of Shards.
The process was entirely alien to me, both literally and figuratively, my actions driven only by some ancient instinct I didn’t even know to be my own. I understood the bare minimum, the most outward exterior of my own Shards’ true mechanics, and could only hope such elementary knowledge would be enough for what I attempted now.
I tuned out the world around me.
Each power’s expression was a distinct thing, as different conceptually as a sword stroke and a sung chord. In my inner sea, I built the arcane circuits, gritting my teeth as I contorted raw song into shapes and glyphs and runes that only held meaning to me.
The first was easy.
It was nothing, less even than the most minor Blessing, a boulder-sized jumble of swirling ciphers that energy might be channeled through, of Entropy crystallized into roughshod structure and inscribed onto the fabric of my soul. It would never be capable of growth, or evolution. It would barely be capable of anything, at all.
Squinting my eyes shut tight as I tore off a piece of the raging ocean, I brought the image to mind.
~~~
A fresh sea breeze, soft and silent, ripples through the forest in fall.
A leaf drops slow, stained burnt-orange by shifting seasons.
The playful wind bears it gently aloft.
Lesser Levitation
~~~
The structure stabilized, and I opened my eyes to a rotating mass of sea-green runes, countless circular lines of eldritch script that all orbited around one another. Entropy, given figure and form. The construct was barely larger than myself, and lacking entirely in the size and character that my other Shards adopted in my soul.
This power didn’t come with a description, or any manner of entry in my Grimoire, save for name alone. It never would. But, that was alright. I didn’t need one. I knew what it was. A simple flight ability, weak and inefficient, incapable of much more than a mundane sprint, but as easy to use as tensing a muscle.
Nodding contentedly, I moved on to the next.
It too, while not quite so simple as before, was insignificant compared to a true Shard. My inner ocean was swirling even more tumultuously now, my mind beginning to ache noticeably, and the song had increased its efforts to buck my hold.
But this was my soul, and none other’s, and I kept my grip tight as I focused on what I needed to bring forth form from the formlessness.
~~~
I stumble through a darkened cave, dumb to my surroundings, tripping and falling to the ground.
My cry rings out, invisible waves of pressure spreading forth, reverberating off of walls, and rocks, and matter.
I hear the echo, and am ignorant no more.
Sensory Projection
~~~
I gasped in pain as the image condensed itself into reality, a basic sensory ability made jarringly available within my soul. My skull felt as if it was splitting open, my grip on mind and body slackening, but I was almost done.
The ocean was outright rebelling now, mammoth crests of pure Entropy drenching me as they crashed against the cliffside, threatening to toss me into the briny depths below. The migraine nearly overwhelmed me, but I couldn’t stop. I could feel…something waiting for me. Waiting for me to realize it.
Waiting to become.
Squaring my shaking shoulders, clenching my trembling palms into fists, and lifting aloft a positively gargantuan lake of wrathful Entropy, I imagined the sound of Fire.
The image came to mind easily, so easily, so often had I made use of it over the past day, and slowly the churning, roiling, frothing whirlpool of pure Entropy began to change.
Green-blue briny sea shifted and morphed into brick and mortar, wood and stone and straw. The violent turbulence of the impossibly deep, incomprehensibly powerful ocean ever-so-gradually calmed into something humbler, warmer, and more comforting.
Fang danced around the forming structure, snapping and chomping viciously at vagrant flecks and floes of Entropy. Honestly, I couldn’t tell if his efforts were making an observable difference, but at least they made me smile, lifting the mental pressure somewhat, reminding me once more that I would never be truly alone.
On the barren obsidian cliffs of a raging, battered volcano, a small cabin took shape.
Following unknowable instinct, I began to chant, reciting what the word meant to me.
Fire is life.
The soft pitter-patter of falling snow. Wooden logs swirled over and around one another like liquid until they formed walls, and floors, and a roof.
Fire is light.
A brilliant cascade of glittering sparks. A small stone chimney rose from the structure’s center, making room at its base for a modest hearth.
Fire is hope.
The smooth sensation of a plush blanket. The cottage’s frame was populated, now, filled with furniture and cupboards and cutlery, the meaningless accoutrements of a life long-forgotten.
Fire is memory.
The warm caress of a mother’s porcelain palm, and the deafening beating of her heart. Two silent figures appeared in the cabin, sheltered from the blizzard, locked in eternal embrace.
I felt a wetness run down my cheeks. I wanted to run to her, to jump into her arms. I wanted it so badly, more than anything in all the world.
But she was just a memory, and nothing more.
The image, for it wasn’t yet a Shard, was asking me something. Asking me for something. It wasn’t like the others. It was more, so much more. It would not be lifeless. It needed a path. It was asking for purpose, for meaning, for a task.
I struggled to make sense of its mouthless speech, its words queer undulations of pressure and atmosphere.
//QUERY: DIRECTIVE//
My arms shook. My concentration was at its breaking point. I’d already wrangled two abilities into concrete form, and this was turning into something far beyond my previous efforts. Frantically, I pushed my response towards its nascent form.
~~~
//FIRE PROTECTS//
~~~
From within the cabin, a miniscule hearth guttered to life.
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In an instant, the tumultuous ocean calmed, and the storm broke.
A great pressure lifted from my mind, and I collapsed to my knees, releasing my sweat-slicked ethereal grip. Fang plopped down beside me, silver tongue lolling heavily, looking exorbitantly pleased with himself. Silently, we stared at the…thing I’d made.
I’d acted on instinct alone. Unlike the first two, I didn’t know what this power did, exactly, or how I’d managed to create it. Was it because I’d worked from an affinity, this time? I didn’t know. It wasn’t a Shard, yet it wasn’t a simple collection of runes, either. It was more freeform, an idea, a memory, given flesh and blood.
It was what Fire meant to me.
With a gesture, still ensconced within my own soul, I summoned my Grimoire.
~~~
Hero
Attunement: ADMINISTRATION 9. 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, Words, //ERR494e464f//, 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:
* Draconic Blood 9. The Host’s blood takes on the properties of an ancient dragon, granting increased strength, resilience, and greatly increased healing. The Host gains an affinity to fire and blood.
* Flash Step 9. The Host gains the ability to move any distance in a single step, at the cost of damaging their body. Entropy spent and bodily damage scales with distance traveled. This ability does not enhance the Host’s senses whilst in motion. The Host may not change their body position during a Flash Step. The Host gains an affinity to lightning.
* Soulbound Weapon 9. The Host is granted a personalized weapon, chosen to fit the Host’s subconscious. In this case the weapon is Fang, The Boneblade. This weapon will grow with the Host as they gain Attunement, displaying more esoteric effects as it does so. This weapon may always be recalled to the Host, regardless of location. This weapon may be dismissed and summoned by the Host at will. If this weapon is destroyed, it may be regenerated at the cost of Entropy.
* Personal Storage 2. The Host gains access to a personal storage vault of 40x40x40 feet. Objects of any size or weight may be stored within this area upon manual contact, so long as they can physically fit inside it. These objects may be retrieved at any point in time provided manual contact with a suitable empty space outside of the vault for them to occupy. Retrieval/storage duration and Entropy cost for a given object scales along with corresponding size, weight, and complexity. All stored objects are temporally locked until retrieval. This Shard does not affect living creatures.
* Bullet Time 4. Allows the Host to dilate their own perception of time’s flow on command. Note that this Shard does not bestow upon the Host any manner of Chronokinesis. Perception is slowed biologically, via increased synapse conduction and connection. As a result, this Shard does nothing to commensurately augment the Host’s physical movement.
Save Slots:
* Haemokinetic Enhancement.
* Prestidigitation.
* Discretionary Mutation.
* Empty.
* Empty.
Words:
* Fire 6.
//ERR494e464f//:
* Lesser Levitation//NULL.
* Sensory Projection//NULL.
Good luck, Hero. The survival of both our races depends on you.
~~~
I blinked twice, confused by what I saw.
My efforts seemed to have confused my Grimoire, as well. Two new entries had appeared in my ‘current upgrades’ list and at the bottom of my Grimoire. The second one sported the same error as several of those headings in my glossary, as if the arcane tome had not anticipated its inclusion.
As if even the manuscript given to all Blessed, supposedly by the Priest himself, could not fully understand what it was, precisely, that I’d done.
The two not-quite-Blessings featured within it were similarly broken, having no description and simply displaying a ‘NULL’ in the place where their Attunement should have been. Because they weren’t advanced enough to evolve, perhaps?
The first list was another story.
‘Words’ sounded strangely familiar to me, though I couldn’t remember where I’d heard the term exactly. Regardless, it confirmed, with zero ambiguity, that my efforts to actualize my understanding of Fire into concrete form had been a success. It wasn’t the same as a proper Blessing, not really, but it was one hell of a start.
And it could grow in Attunement, too.
Absently, I reached out a hand and scratched Fang behind his ears. Purring in a manner quite unbefitting such a magnificent creature, he rolled over, exposing his metallic belly and gazing at me expectantly.
I rolled my eyes, and returned to reality, floating high above a lake of lava.
I wasn’t warm.
Not even a little bit. Not only was flying far, far easier now, the air around me was fresh, and cool. Sweet.
I drifted left. I drifted right. Scorching heat distorted the air all around me, and I felt absolutely none of it.
But, my new…Blessing? Proto-Blessing? Word? Whatever Fire was, wasn’t even active.
No shroud cloaked my person, protecting me from the bubbling lava below. I’d released the song entirely, now able to channel Entropy directly into my newly-formed Lesser Levitation, which was the only thing I currently had active.
So, how was I immune?
Blinking in wonder, I examined my skin and found it smooth and pale, cool to the touch. Quirking my head slightly, I began to descend. The boiling magma spat angrily as I drew near to it, but I noticed no increase in temperature, despite its rage. As an errant wave approached me, I didn’t try to run.
My novel Blessing hummed gently to life as the lava washed over me, as refreshing as a mountain spring. My eyes widened, and a broad smile spread across my face. I didn’t even need to use Draconic Blood.
The fiery sea could no longer harm me.
Whooping with joy, I dove beneath the molten surf, Fire whirring slightly louder, but far from being overtaxed. The drones would never reach me, not down here. Sight was an impossibility through the densely opaque liquid, but a scant few tendrils of Entropy fed into my Sensory Projection saw my awareness spread out in a great sphere around me, seamlessly guiding me forth, comfortably large enough to span the width of the corridor.
Fang yipped and ululated at my side, mirroring my twists and twirls deep beneath the pyrocaustic lake, my immunity apparently extending to him, as well. Together, the two of us raced through the sixth room at a breakneck pace, surfacing only once or twice that I might catch my breath, never long enough for a drone to spot us.
In less than thirty minutes, we’d reached the end of the corridor.
I surfaced from the smoldering sea in an explosion of red-hot slag, casting cherry droplets all about me which, in mere moments, cooled to dark black rock, undermining the hallways’s omnipresent white motif.
It was unbelievable. This power was unlike anything I’d used before. I didn’t need to experiment with it, not in the slightest. It knew immediately what I wanted it to do and, despite its miniscule comparative size, felt no less potent than my other Blessings.
Fire.
The Word, now condensed and given form, hummed softly as I thought its name. It wasn’t a Shard. Shards were the eldritch creations of some unknowable entity, and their structure reflected that. Alien. Unfathomable. They weren’t designed for humans, necessitating, for me at least, months of torturous practice and study to become acquainted with even their most basic mechanics and functions.
But Fire was mine.
It wasn’t made for aliens, it was made for me. It was made by me. And it was just as reflexive, just as subconscious, as walking, or talking, or drawing breath. I hadn’t the time, here and now, to plumb the true depths of its capabilities, or what it might grow into. Could I merge it into a Shard?
Moreover, could I create Blood, and Lightning, too?
I dared not try. My mind still felt bloodied and raw, my concentration far from robust enough to attempt such a herculean task one more time. And besides, Fire had been the most concrete image I’d possessed. My grasp of the other two was considerably weaker.
The epiphany had opened up a world of possibilities, but I couldn’t explore them just yet.
For now, another test was passed. I approached the blinking symbol cautiously, this time, eyeing it like the worthy adversary it was. Once more, the voice sounded from the back of my mind. Once more, it felt more real than ever.
Are you ready, Hero?
I ignored it. I was stronger now than I ever had been. It would not discourage me. Its tone was mocking, but I would be a Hero. I would not give up, not now.
“Only one way to find out,” I murmured, half in response, stretching out my fingers towards the lime-green lattice. As skin brushed lightly against cold metal, I triggered Bullet Time, and was spirited away.