Tarixi led Aurelian along the corridor towards where her own remains lay, floating through the air without the stereotypical ‘bobbing’ one might expect to see in popular ghost portrayals.
Instead, she moved through the air as if it were solid ground.
Her even gait and purposeful stride guided them both evenly and without deviation towards her target—whatever it might be—and only when she reached the skeletal remains of herself, and her comrades, did she pause.
“I never thought I would die like this,” she admitted while she surveyed all that remained of herself and those she stood with. “None of us did, I suppose. It was a distinct possibility, especially later in the war, but…”
“How long were you at war?” Aurelian asked as respectfully as he could, while his eyes moved between the introspective Echo and the remains she regarded with her large, round eyes.
Compassion cost him nothing, and Echo or not, he could see she was feeling something.
“Centuries. It’s… difficult to parse the time in a way that is easily understood. We regarded time as malleable, not linear. Chronomancy had made us less absolute in our reckoning of reality.”
“Chronomancy? Like time travel?” he asked with a surge of eager interest.
“No, no, not quite,” Tarixi said with an amused look, “we could only affect grains at most, and only within the scope of our own selves. It was more that we didn’t feel time as acutely as others. I cannot fully explain it in a way that makes sense.”
Aurelian settled as she clarified and nodded, both disappointed and slightly relieved.
As fun as time travel would be, he also understood how incredibly bad it could go.
“But yes, centuries. Every turn of every hour felt… tense. All the time.”
“Turn?” he asked curiously. It was a strange phrase to his ears.
“Yes. A turn. A minute glass?” She clarified questioningly while miming turning something over. “We used a minute glass to tell time at its base, then an hourglass for sixty minutes, and a sunglass, moon glass, twilight glass, dusk glass, dawn glass…”
“Wait wait wait. Just hold on,” Aurelian said with a sense of bewilderment. “You have different measurements for each section of a twenty-four-hour period?”
“Of course we do, for when such things are needed, but to do so for every moment? That would be foolish. We only had them for the use of exactitude. A cycle glass contains exactly twenty-four thousand grains of sand, and turns exactly on the second the last grain drops in order to signal the new day, with markings for dawn, day, midday, dusk, and night.”
“Right…” he muttered. “You track the twilight hours as independent here, too.”
“Of course. Twilight is a time of great power for communing with the Eternals.”
“The Etern—? No, never mind. Okay. Thank you for entertaining my questions.”
“You are welcome, Aurelian,” Tarixi said with a look of continued curiosity, though she didn’t ask the question that appeared to be lurking in her mind, and instead refocused on what they had initially been discussing. “But yes, the war raged for centuries. Too many to count, it feels like. I was born into the war, and eventually it claimed me as it claimed my forebears. The only points of consistency were our rulers.”
“The Imperator and Imperatrix.”
“Correct, and the Royarchs and Vanarchs and Pentarchs beneath them each.”
“The wh—? No, again, never mind,” Aurelian said as his Iron Will flared and he controlled his rampaging tangential curiosity. “That can all come later. Didn’t you have something to show me? A weapon or—or something?”
“Not a weapon.” Tarixi corrected with something like a sigh, though she nodded. “Yes, and it is good you reminded me. I was…—” she glanced down at the skeletons quietly and then shook her head “—...it hardly matters. Come.”
Without another word she drifted past the collection that was once herself and her friends and moved until she hovered before a seemingly innocuous section of wall some five metres behind them.
Aurelian joined her after skirting around her and her friends respectfully, his eyes appraising the wall curiously. “It’s a wall?”
“No, Reclaimer, it is not just a wall. This entire palace is riddled with secrets, and this is one of the most important. There are many locations identical to the one I am about to show you, and they all lead somewhere most important.”
“Okay, so secret passages connecting the interior framework?” he asked as casually as he could.
“You… How did you know that?”
“Not as original as you might think, for someone from… Well, from where I am originally.”
Tarixi’s eyebrows rose with a look of impressed interest, “your people must be great engineers.”
“Something like that,” he said with a shrug and dismissive wave. “But we can talk about it later. How do we open this? Secret panel? Pressure plate? Passcode?” He turned to the wall, “open sesame!”
Nothing, of course, happened.
Tarixi did however look at him as if she was concerned for his sanity.
“It’s a…” he sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, please continue.”
“Yes… well…” she glanced at him again in mild confusion before continuing “...the wall here is controlled by an access rune, linked into the runic choir that maintains the palace’s integrity. You have no doubt seen some element of it, given your Philology skill. Admittedly I am somewhat rankled that we are considered ancient mysteries, but I will ignore that given the circumstance. If you look here…”
The spectre gestured to where a curvature in the wall’s patterns seemed to rise like a cresting wave. Aurelian leaned forward and pushed his enhanced vision to its maximum while he attempted to discern exactly what set it apart.
“...you will find subtle deviations in the stroke and significance of the patterning. It correlates to something akin to punctuation, after a word or phrase of significance. In this case the term ‘Passage’, in the loosest common translation.”
“Is that what we’re speaking? Common?”
“It is,” she confirmed.
“Who came up with that?” he asked distractedly while he examined the rune. “Hey, I think I sort of see it?” he reached out to trace the rune as he spoke, “like… subtle bold strikes akin to sea foam from a crashing wave, right? And a little bit of sea spray, too.”
Philology is now Level 4!
Philology is now Level 5!
Aurelian didn’t need the chime or alerts to tell him he’d been right, and Tiraxi nodded at him. “That is correct, yes. Now to activate it, you must introduce it to blood keyed to its harmonics.”
“How does that…? You know what, never mind. I’m sure that makes perfect sense in this world.”
“How does blood correlate to harmonics?” she persisted despite his dismissal. “It’s quite simple really; a Soul is a song, Aurelian. A song within a chorus larger than any of us can know. There are many scholars that seek to understand it, this concerto of the universe, but in truth its immensity is beyond our proper comprehension. All we can do is interpret but a fraction of its melodies, harmonies, beats, and rhythms and apply them to our comprehension of the Prime Material.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Yeah, it all just sounds like hippie wind chimes to me,” he muttered, “but I get it.”
“What is a hipp—?”
“Forget it,” he waved her off. “So, I have to cut my hand and touch it?”
“Not strictly speaking, but that is the usual method certainly.”
Aurelius nodded and pulled one of the multiple weapons he’d stashed in his belt, taking up an older dagger—its edges still perfectly sharp, surprisingly—and cutting his palm shallowly. His health flashed in his vision, but he ignored it, and instead pressed his hand against the cresting wave.
His regeneration would close the cut soon enough, anyway.
“Okay,” he said after nothing happened. “Now wh—?”
Before he could speak further the door abruptly lit up with veins of red-gold light, rushing outward from the point of contact and threading through an entire network of runic symbols that had been perfectly hidden upon the surface of the stone. The pattern emerged like the missing piece in a puzzle, or the last and most important frame of a film; filling in an emptiness that Aurelian had only noticed subconsciously, and was now thrown into stark relief.
“Woah,” he said with quiet appreciation of the spectacle before him as it unfolded.
“Such wonder for things we considered so simple.” Tarixi murmured with a quiet smile on her features. “And this is but the appetiser. Tell me if you receive any alerts, please.”
Aurelian gave her a thumbs up but was too focused on the wall sliding back and away to notice her puzzled expression, and subtle attempt to replicate it for herself.
The now-opened wall section led into what appeared to be a small landing perhaps 3 metres square, with a set of stairs on his immediate left that spiralled down into utter darkness.
“Not big fans of light, are you?” he muttered.
“Step inside.” was all she said.
Aurelian glanced at her apprehensively but did as she asked, and stepped cautiously over the imagined boundary line and into the small landing. The moment he did, a message populated his vision.
Access to Restricted Section Detected
Scanning for Authority
. . .
Authority Not Found
Preparing Coun̶͇͖̭͋t̷͕̿̂e̷̪͇͈̒̽̉r̵̤͈̳͠ͅm̴̹̺̥̼̽̽̕͘ẻ̶̳̼a̵̛̻͊̽̀s̷̰͋́̉̽͜ǚ̴̼͋r̷̗̟̪̒͠ë̶̡̳̣̟́̀͘s̷̭̣̊
SECURITY OVERRIDE INITIATED
TITLE DETECTED: [RECLAIMER]
TITLE SUPERSEDES ALL PRIOR AUTHORITY
REGISTERING ENTITY ‘AURELIAN LUCIS IMPERIUS’ AS ALPHA-ONE ACCESS
ACCESS REGISTERED
WELCOME, RECLAIMER
“Well, I received the messages you spoke about,” Aurelian said with a glance at Tarixi, which was promptly followed by a blink of surprise when lights abruptly flared to life below his feet. A quick glance down and he clarified that it was actually a system of runes, each one scripted in the same manner and shape: a cross between an Omega, a wing, and a stylised Z.
Each one burned upon a step and cast a warm golden glow upward from where it sat.
“Okay. That would be the lights, then,” he said in a chagrined voice.
“Indeed. Now let us descend.”
“The door?” Aurelian asked with a glance at the open passage.
“It will shut when our proximity is no longer detected. Come.”
Aurelian spared another glance for the opening but decided to trust her and followed as she floated downward. The steps were carved of some sort of black stone, and appeared to be built into the bedrock upon which the palace, as she’d clarified the complex to be, was built. The curvature of the spiral was gradual but present, and each stair would have fit four people across with only slight discomfort.
While he descended, he kept one hand on the balustrade to his left, taking note of how the columns and rail were carved from the self-same rock in a demonstration of exceptional artistry.
The Elyseans had, it seemed, done nothing half-arsed.
The sound of the door above sliding closed and slamming shut with a dull thud helped him relax to a point, though the descent into what was still relatively impenetrable darkness save for the stairwell gave him… well, a primal sense of unease.
He didn’t even feel comfortable speaking, for fear of disturbing something.
Anything.
Iron Will is now Level 17!
If not for his Iron Will working overtime, and Tarixi’s presence, he would likely have been more-than-a-little terrified. There was something daunting about the area into which he was descending. It bore a sense of scale and immensity that even through the darkness he could discern with absolute certainty. He was not merely entering an access path or some sort of small chamber, but a cavernous and excavated area that could have probably fit several city blocks.
If not a modern city in its entirety.
So long was the descent that eventually Aurelian’s trepidation turned to boredom, and he once again started speaking to Tarixi. “How was all this built?”
“Magic,” she answered simply. “The best Magisterii working in tandem.”
“That word again. Magisterii. Is that like Magisters? Mages?”
“More or less.” Tarixi confirmed. “They served many roles within the Empire. Some were profoundly powerful battle magi, and others were dedicated to the scholarly arts.”
“How many types of magic are there?”
“Ten,” she answered in a tone that took on a decidedly more comfortable tenor.
She seemed to enjoy educating, he noticed. She likely would have made an excellent teacher. It made him even more piteous that she had died in a war she had never chosen.
“There are the elemental powers of fire, air, earth, and water and their various sub-designations and branches, each of which often involves a combination of one or the other.”
“Like fire and water for steam, or air and water for ice, or fire and air for lightning, earth and water for mud, fire and earth for glassmaking, et cetera?”
Tarixi glanced back at him with a mix between surprise and a look of impressed pleasure. “Yes indeed. How did you know?”
Aurelian shrugged. “I took chemistry.”
“You mean alchemy?”
“I… No, don’t worry about it,” he said with a wry smile. “Please continue.”
“Hmm…” Tarixi said with a curious eye, before turning around and resuming her lecture.
He had a feeling it was not the end of it, though.
“After the elements we have the spiritual powers; life, death, and nature.”
“So, like, healing, necromancy, and druidcraft?”
“In a way.” Tarixi agreed with another hint of surprise to her voice. “Though those are very generic interpretations. Life magic can be anything from restoration to inspiration of others and spiritual cleansing, and even comprehension of the living world and the forces which abound within it. It can also be used to interface with and disrupt anatomy, and even hold some control over the will and mind of others. They are all extremely flexible in their applications in that way.”
“What about things like Psychic powers?”
“Psychic powers?” she asked curiously.
“Moving things with your mind. Telekinesis, that sort of thing.”
“Hmm…” Tarixi responded thoughtfully. “That sounds more along the lines of Force magic, which deals with intent and force of will to affect the space around oneself. It is not a school so much as a capacity. It was a power known to some, but hardly prevalent in the world by any means. A rare gift, and one to be treasured,” she waved a hand airily as they continued to descend. “Let it suffice to say that it exists, if you wish to pursue it… though it may be quite difficult without a proper teacher.”
Aurelian nodded with understanding, but wasn’t remotely dissuaded. He had really wanted to Professor X some fools if he ever had the chance, and he wasn’t about to turn it down because it might be hard. “You said ten. What are the other two?”
“Light and Shadow,” she answered easily. “Despite the dogmatic beliefs of the Godsworn, they are merely elements of reality as opposed to any kind of Divine source of providence or malice,” her tone was dismissive and scornful as she said it, mellowing only somewhat when she continued.
“Light deals with the manipulation of spectrum energies to create constructs or consolidate its constituent elements into a manipulable form, while Shadow does the same. Despite popular beliefs that likely still abound, neither is inherently stronger or more valuable than the other.”
She shrugged her little shoulders as if to say, ‘people will believe what they will’ and continued. “Shadows melt before strong light, and light is smothered by overwhelming shadows. They are just powers.”
“It sounds as if you’re vehemently against religion.” Aurelian observed.
“The Empire revered and respected the Eternals, but we certainly didn’t consider them gods in the same way as the Godsworn worship their own. Eternals are primordial forces of reality, not deities to be supplicated to. We communed for wisdom, guidance, and insight through their immense comprehension of their varied demesnes. To hear the Godsworn tell it, their messianic idol is the one true glory in all of the cosmos.”
“What do they worship, exactly?”
“Solarius,” she scoffed.
“Who?”
“The Deity of Light.”
Somehow, the name left Aurelian feeling uneasy in a primal and soul-deep manner he could not define.