Originally uploaded May 31, 2023

Varay Pov

The chamber was solemn, the air was tense. Only two of the three royal families remained now, the dwarves being labeled as traitors were promptly dealt with by Lord Aldir. In turn the Glayders were still on edge, while I was kept in the dark for the most of it, I would presume they were made known to the deal the Greysunders had with Agrona.

Lord Aldir had gathered all of us here, it wasn't the calmest of times. The preparations for war were ramping up, our productions lines had to be optimized. New recruits had to be gathered and trained. But most of all, our most secure fortress was openly attacked.

While the public still believes that Director Goodsky was still within our possession, it won't be long before rumors being to grow like bacteria.

All the Lances were present, well all but one. Lance Alea was no where to be seen. While it wasn't uncommon for each of the Lances to go on private assignments unknown to the rest of us, Lord Aldir had personally ordered all of us here. Even Commander Virion couldn't give a proper explanation, whether he didn't want to inform us or he didn't know was unbeknownst to us.

Commander Virion seemed tired, his already aged face seemed older than I last seen him. The wrinkles around his eyes were more prominent, the twinkle of life in his eyes seemed dimmer. An old man even among elf standards, was our only hope. He was the only one of us that had lived through the last large scale war Dicathen has seen. He was the only one of us with actual war experience.

The current royal family lived cushy lives in comparison, no real conflict in decades. Only tiny political disputes in comparison. Growing complacent with their position and lifestyle.

My mind went back to Grey, which seemed to be a label that seemed to stick for the masked man. I could picture him, the snow-white mask that covered his whole face. Letting only the droplets of gold that were his eyes. Giving off an anonymous stoic feeling.

The long pale blonde hair that was loosely tied back. His slender yet powerful build. The odd mana arts he used. The way he just seemed to defy logic and our understanding of the world. How he brought all of the Lances to our knees. If he truly wanted he could have killed us when he took away our mana. We would have been helpless as a newborn baby to him.

Yet he allowed us to live. Thinking back on it, with his method of seemingly instant teleportation why didn't he just leave when we arrived? When we had the short fight with him he never seemed to be taking it seriously. Waiting, watching, all of our movements and parrying our avoiding them at the very last minute. As if he was our sparring teacher.

The door swung open and the pressure within the room changed. Despite actively suppressing their own power the asuras still naturally gave off a domineering amount of pressure. As if the gravity in the room was dialed up a few notches.

Lord Aldir entered the room, wearing the same dark battle robes he wore frequently. Just behind him was Lord Windsom, his platinum hair cut short and swept to one side. His eyes that resembled the night sky scanned the entire room in a instant.

Without wasting any time Aldir placed a severed arm on the table. A arm of some who would be around physical age of their early twenties. It had pale, almost milk-like skin. Flawless without any blemishes. It was the arm that Aldir had taken off of Grey.

Commander Virion almost seemed to flinch when he saw the arm. Not a reaction you would expect from the old General who saw more bloodshed and conflict than any of us.

"There was an attack on the castle a few days ago." Aldir began, his eye on his forehead glowing an ominous purple.

"And this is the only evidence of the perpetrator we have. He has taken Cynthia Goodsky and disappeared without a trace." He continued.

Windsom continued after him. "After analyzing this evidence we have concluded that the perpetrator was indeed a member of the dragon lineage."

"A dragon?" Virion questioned, almost dumbfounded. The stared back at the arm with a renewed bewilderment.

"Yes, that and the advanced aether art the target exhibited cements his species. We conclude that he was some agent of the Vritra. Perhaps a captured member of the Indrath clan they brainwashed or was controlling through other means." Aldir answered Virion curtly. Clearing seeing the unusual response the old elf was having, but he didn't mention it.

"But wouldn't directly using an asura in open combat be a violation of the treaty you asuras created?" Aya spoke, her voice soft and smooth like velvet. With a hint of wind mana imbued with each of her words that gave them a alluring quality.

"Yes, but there were loopholes present within the treaty when it was first created. Don't see us asuras as only dignified nobles who are holy in all we do. The contract we told you about was a very basic summary that any half-decent historian or record keeper would be disgusted by." Aldir spoke with a slight irony in his voice.

"We can only see this as Agrona trying to level the playing field with us present here. Still, dispatching an asura, no matter how strong is still a big risk for either side. This was a large gamble he will pay for." Windsom explained as he ran his fingers through his platinum hair.

While Lord Aldir didn't exhibit any kind of displeasure in dealing with us lessers, Lord Windsom was different. He always seemed slightly annoyed when he had to explain something he thought were obvious, like how one would treat a nosy child. Only reluctantly doing so because he was ordered to do so.

"What was that aether arts that you mentioned?" Bairon spoke, his voice still a mix of frustration and wonder. He was kicking himself when I had informed him about the attack. He was away on a mission of his own, standard protocol was to have at least one lance present on the floating castle in case of emergencies. He held a deep rooted hatred for Grey ever since the Xyrus incident. And I couldn't blame him, having lost his brother to him. Not even having a body to give the boy a proper burial.

"The sacred magic only known to the members of the Indrath clan and the draconic lineage. The very building blocks of the universe. With enough understanding it is said that one could alter the natural order of the world." Aldir spoke, as if he had recited the same words many times.

So his purple mana arts wasn't mana arts at all? He was a dragon who wielded power that we didn't even know existed until now. It all seemed to perfectly explain it. The way he seemed to disappear and reappear at different places on a whim. The way his sword seemed to not directly cut objects but pushing the very matter apart, as if it was making room for itself in our material world.

And if all of that was what a single dragon could do, imagine an organized army of them. Hundreds, maybe thousands of beings capable of bending physics to their will. It made sense why the ruler of the asuras was a dragon.

But it also made me question, if they possessed such power why would dealing with Agrona be such a problem. They have stated that a direct all-put conflict between the asuras would destroy our world. But if they had literal reality bending powers than why would they rely on us lessers to deal with them?

There must be something they weren't telling us. Some missing piece of the puzzle they weren't providing.

Perhaps they believe they were too high and mighty to deal with their dirty work. Seeing us as convenient solution to not risk the lose of their own people.

But if Agrona possessed soldiers like Grey than did we lessers even stand a chance? A single man was capable of walking all over the strongest mages in Dicathen, then did we even have a choice? Other than to walk into the fire at the whim of gods?

The feeling of doubt that began to grow ever since Xyrus was spreading. The feeling of hopelessness, a drowning sensation.

'Was it all a waste? The years I spent training, discarding my emotions to be a better mage. To be the wall against the terrors, to be the guardian of Dicathen. Was everything I have done up to this point utterly pointless? We call Virion our Commander but our true leader sat upon a throne in a different continent. Not knowing the struggles of us lessers, let alone the struggles of the common people.'

The asuras lived for centuries, maybe even longer. How would they have any reasonable grasp of the futile struggles of us mortals? Do they even care about the people they are condemning to their deaths, to act as pawns in this war between them?

But in the end the icy cold veneer rushed over me. Pushing those thoughts to the deepest parts of my consciousness I maintain the stone-like face I always had. Some saw me as the unfeeling soldier, always unflinching and certain in everything I did. But it was all just a mask. A false persona I put on the hide my deepest insecurities and regrets.

I had don the mask of the strong stoic general. That was what was needed, what the people of Dicathen needed. I had to lead them through all of this. I had to, if I couldn't then what was the point of it all.

Arthur Pov

The sand beneath my feet reflected the star lit night sky. The stars alone were enough to illuminate the entire desert. I gazed upwards towards them.

It made me wonder. 'What truly was the Relictombs? Were they some contained space that was artificially created? Or were they entirely separate realities themselves?'

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I doubt even the Djinns would just put up stars as decor. Was each larger level of the Relictombs there own worlds? Like how my old birth world of Earth is a separate realm from the one I was in now.

It has been a while since I have delved into the Relictombs. But with Cynthia on my side and training my other forces I could indulge in such a luxury. Although Aldir knowing of my existence might have been a blunder in hindsight.

'Oh well I can't be perfect now can I?' I reassured myself.

I took a deep breath, the air was thick with aether. I could feel the particles welcoming me. Dancing with joy. My body felt lighter. The abundance of aether heightened my senses, I could hear the grains of sand flow as the wind blew them.

Despite this, all I could see and feel was a plane of sand. Seemingly reaching out to infinity. I have been to a similar level within the Relictombs before, but that level had a not too friendly hydra guarding its doors.

I reached down, grabbing a handful of the sand. I let the coarse grains fall in between my fingertips. They were all heavily enriched with aether.

'Strange, the Djinn aren't the kind of people that would just create a endless desert for shits and giggles. And I don't think they would like to vacation in desert as well.'

These were the times when I missed Regis the most. His witty sense of humor, he would have made some comment about beach vacations or how much he hated sand by now. I closed my eyes, and felt around my core.

It was radiating pure white light, filled with an enormous amount of pure aether, awaiting my command.

Deep withing my core I felt him. An everlasting presence. Glowing in a dark purple, almost black light. Still deep within hibernation. I would have presumed he would have awoken by now with just the raw amount of aether that he was housed in.

Perhaps the other version of me that sent me back sealed him away. While not having a good reason to do so, he is the only person who would know about Regis and how to do such a thing.

Without anything better to I began walking. Leaving footprints in the sand as I made my way through the endless mounds of sand.

A surviving fragment of a Djinn once told me that every level within the Relictombs was meant to offer insight of some kind. While they deemed it a failure when they saw me I still believe there was something here I could learn.

I couldn't describe it, a unknown kind of feeling that drew me here. As if I was destined to be here. Maybe it was the ever illusive fate Sylvia originally told me about. Or maybe it was some higher being playing tricks with me. From what I have seen, that doesn't seem like an impossibility.

I couldn't quite tell how long I have been walking. With the abundance of aether in the atmosphere I didn't tire easily. And time was always a bit fucky when it came to these tombs.

I flexed my left arm. The arm that Aldir took off. Loosing limbs wasn't a big deal for me. Regrowing only took a few second to a couple of minutes and I was used to the pain by now. But I still felt frustration bubbling under my skin.

I expected myself to be able to deal with any singular asuras for now. With all the strength and knowledge I possessed. But Aldir was a special case. In my previous life I have never once seriously fought him. Heck I never even see him fight, only witnessing him unleash the World Eater technique on Elenoir.

While I was familiar with the fight styles the Pantheon clan used, Aldir was the greatest among them. Being a once in a generation prodigy. Even though I held back to not reveal all of my cards just yet I could tell Aldir was doing the same. The enemy that is unknown commands the greatest fear after all.

Both of us were trying to probe for more information on who each of us were. He will no doubt report back to Kezess of my existence. Either they will deem me one of Agrona's pet project he choose to conduct a field test with or some rogue Djinn survivor.

Either way he will keep a close eye on Dicathen, maybe even send more forces to monitor us. I need some way to turn away his attention. I could perhaps deal with a squad of dragons or two, other aether wielders were always a problem. But even if I could deal with them I had no chance in defeating the entirety of Ephetous on my own. Even if I could somehow survive I doubt Dicathen would be anything but ashes.

I had originally planned to begin to emerge when Kezess sent a assassination force to Alacrya. With both Windsom and Aldir being recalled after that at least then he would have had a arm tied behind his back. But I needed Cynthia for my own needs and I doubt they would have given her easily. It was better to send a direct message at least to the council, they were too prideful initially. The thought that Agrona, a being with centuries of experience and knowledge, was just toying with them the entire war never even occurred to them.

That ideology was only magnified as they presumed the asuras of Ephetous would protect them. Maybe that was the root of all of our problems. We have relied on the asuras for too long. Even before most people knew of their existence we were given the artifacts to create artificial white core mages. Humanity in general would have evolved far beyond that given time. But it was the asuras who poisoned our society and stunted our natural growth. All in an attempt to cement their own rule.

I was so deep in thought that I nearly missed the ground turning to marble. Its sand-blasted smooth surface of bone white. I bent down to feel its smooth surface, almost too smooth. Too perfect to be a simple ancient structure. A torrent of raw aether ripped forth from the palm of my hands. Making sure to avoid destroying the partially buried marble I blast away the sand.

Upon closer inspection I could seen small writings, runes. They were sprawling all over the clean surface. Etched and inlaid in gold, I could barely read them. They seemed much longer and more complex than runes I have seen previously. But this was no doubt Djinn writing.

I ran my fingers through the etching. Each tiny letter was perfectly carved, each small curve and nook. Placing my entire palm directly on its cold surface I pulsed my aether through it.

The runes began glowing in reaction to my touch. And the very ground began to tremble, like an earthquake. I continued to pushed aether through to the marble object. The runes continued glowing brighter in return.

And in an instant I was transported somewhere else. Similar to when I conjured portals of my own or used godstep. I appeared in what appeared to be a large hallway. The roof was so high up that I couldn't even see it. The walls and floor were made with similar marble, but its color was a dark grey, appearing almost black.

It was silent, expect for a distant humming that sounded a lot like the sound of electric currents back on Earth. There was a unusual amount of aether present, even more so than the usual amount present in the deeper levels of the Relictombs.

Looking around the hallway seemed to stretch out, seemingly endlessly as I couldn't seen the end. Choosing a random direction I begin walking. It was a good change in scenery from the endless desert.

My footsteps echoed through the empty halls. Each marble pillar seemed to stretch on for miles up into the air, supporting a roof I couldn't see. I continued forwards, hoping for the scenery to change.

The entire place seemed to warp my perception of space and time. Turning back I saw the seemingly never-ending hallway stretch to the horizon, and I could have sworn I was only walking for a couple minutes but my body ached as if I had been running for several hours.

I channeled my will into godstep. Not activating it, just sending a steady stream of aether. Making it glow warm on my back. At the same time I channeled Realmheart. With enough time and practice maintaining Realmheart was almost second nature now. No doubt an indispensable tool when dealing with mana based enemies. So much so that maintaining focus with them both was a doable task.

Thin trails of aether like wisps of ghostly wind filled my vision. Each one of them a bridge-way to the aetheric void, the realm between realities, and the medium in which teleportation was achieved. I scanned my surroundings, the walls were practically brimming with aether, so much so that my vision was inundated with a sea of purple.

I forced my eyes shut, it was painful seeing the raw aether burn like the sun. The runes that glowed just beneath my eyes subsided as I withdrew the godrune. When suddenly I felt a violent pulling sensation, as if some invisible giant had grabbed a hold of my entire body. And before I could even react the unseen arm pulling my body, as the area around me shifted. And I realized I had been forcibly teleported.

When I came back to my senses I was nearly deafened by the sound of explosions. Quickly looking around I seemed to have landed in some kind of battlefield. I felt the heat on the back of my neck. Quickly ducking and dropping to my knees I godstep away by pure instinct.

Materializing on a small elevated mound of dirt I survey my surroundings. I had appeared in some outcropping in a dense forest. I could see pillars of smoke rise into the sky in the distance. And right in front of me was an all to familiar sight of a battlefield.

To my left were lessers. Humans, elves, and dwarves all fighting on a united front. The front line seemed to be augmenters, casting shields and casting down any mana beasts that got too close. Behind them was a row a casters, as colorful streaks filled the air.

On the other side were mana beasts, seemingly pouring out of the forest on mass. There was no coordination on their side, they didn't need it. They had raw strength and numbers, all they needed to do was whittle down the humans until they grew tired.

Without the need of any more justification a sword roared to life in my hand as I flung myself at a large winged mana beast. I struck one of its six eyes, blood poured out of its eye hole and the beasts bellowed in pain. Before it could react I ripped out my sword and plunged its blade into the beast's neck, letting gravity do the rest as I slid down, cutting open the beast from the neck down.

Intestines and blood sloshed down in a shower as I quickly switched targets. Burying my sword into a nest of tangled tentacles. The weird creature that reminded me of some sort of small kraken wrapped its other arms around mine. Pulling me towards the rows of sharp teeth that lined its gaping maw.

A beam of aether shot from my other hand cleaved to creature in half with its slimy tentacles still wrapped around me.

Letting the aether support me I floated up several feet into the air. Many of the humans now looked at me with surprise and awe.

I pushed them out of my mind as I focused on conjuring an array of aetheric blades. They floated alongside me, and with a mental push they rained down on the creatures below like a rain of arrows. Piercing and slashing the creatures that now turned to flee, many were unable to as they were turned to lifeless corpses.

Landing back on the ground I created an additional sword in my other hand, readying to deal with any that survived my barrage.

When suddenly the very aether that was supporting me froze, as if it had turned to solid. My limbs and body were pinned, like I was in some mold of unbreakable material.

I flexed my body but it didn't budge, my brain didn't even register that the world around me had turned monochrome, now being only shades of white and grey. All the mana beasts and people were frozen in time, nothing moved.

'Static void.' a chill ran down my spine as I recognized to spell that now held me prisoner.

Then a sound of metal on stone echoed throughout the silence. It drew closer, and I could make now footsteps in between each metallic sound that now seemed rhythmic like a bell of a clock. I tried forcing my head to turn to face the person approaching me but I couldn't.

From the corner of my vision I saw a figure, I couldn't make out its build or stature due to the loose fitting hooded cloak it donned. It held a large staff, blades of amethyst flanked a glowing orb of pure aether. So small yet so concentrated that it shown like a star. Around the entire handle and shaft were tiny golden writing, each seeming breathing with light as if it were alive. Every time the being brought it down as it walked it produced the clanking sound.

It drew closer, inspecting every inch of my body as it made its way. And soon it was right in front of me. The dark shadow of its hood resided and I fully saw its face.

The face of an old man, wrinkly and wispy features. Short white hair and thin eyebrows. The most striking thing about him were his deep purple eyes that seemed to match the purple runes that marked his entire face.

There was no mistaking it, it was a Djinn. But it wasn't a projection or apparition of any kind. No, I could tell from this distance. The way his chest rose and fell, the thin moisture of his eyes. This was a Djinn in the flesh. Somehow surviving for who knows how long within the Relictombs, and from this first interaction I don't think he takes kindly to visitors. Especially one who possess a body of a dragon.

It stared into my eyes for a moment, its eyes seemed to draw me inwards towards him. Like a gravitational pull, I could tell this being had lived for centuries, perhaps even thousands of years. Time worked strangely within the Relictombs after all.

He opened his mouth, seemingly struggeling to find the right words as if he hadn't spoken for a long time. His tongue wandered around his mouth, trying to formulate his thoughts into understandable sounds. And finally he spoke in a raspy voice.

"Grey."