I’ve learned these past days that the Astral Armoury doesn’t like to stay still. Multiple times Armsmaster has led me through different routes to reach the same place. She says I’ll eventually figure out the pattern to it, but I’ve yet to see any.

As Armsmaster leads me to where she says my weapons will be, we come across something I’ve yet to see in the Armoury.

A flight stairs, leading down.

It’s strange to see, given everything else has all been on the same level, so I decide to bring it up.

“What’s down there?”

She pauses in her walk, giving the stairs a complicated look, before continuing on.

“I mentioned the Twilight Vault before, yes? That’s what’s down there. It’s the most heavily protected part of the Armoury, and it’s where it holds the more… disagreeable artefacts.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember what I said about the Armoury’s purpose?”

I have to think for a moment before I recall our discussion in the kitchen four days ago.

“Something about containing weapons too powerful to remain in use?”

“That’s right,” she replies.

She seems to think for a bit before deciding what to say. “Let’s say you have this sword. It’s completely ordinary, nothing special about it, but you have it. And let’s say you're a young mage just starting out on your path. You use this sword for as long as you can, and through either sheer chance or a great deal of care, it remains with you until you’re welling into your later years, about 130 or so. Now, that sword will have been through a lot. It will have taken many lives and been subjected to significant amounts of mana. This changes it, strengthens it in many ways. Depending on how it's used and for what reasons, it might grow to such a degree that it begins to generate its own mana, which is something many mages seek to cause. These weapons, and sometimes armour and other accessories, are generally called Relics.”

Few things seem to get Armsmaster going like weapons and training, I note. It’s pretty clear it’s a passion of hers, which isn’t entirely surprising.

“Relics on their own are perfectly fine. Nothing wrong with a sword that stores extra mana, and some Relics have neat little tricks they can do, nothing groundbreaking, but they can turn the tide in a fight when used properly. No, the problem comes when Relics reach a certain age. Usually around the three to four hundred mark, sometimes sooner if wielded in times of strife, they attain a certain… bloodlust of their own. No sentience, thankfully, and at worst a kind of animal intelligence, but they begin to crave the slaughter. They become Feral. That craving can seep into the wielder, twist them into something primal. The Relic begins to feed off the mage’s wanton destruction, and the mage enjoys a significant increase in power thanks to the Relic’s growth. Eventually it reaches a tipping point, where the mage can no longer recognise friend from foe, and they have to be put down, which is a very tall order considering how strong the Relic would have become by then. Whole kingdoms have fallen in the wake of the chaos that brings, and far too many lives lost.”

By now I’m starting to suspect either Armsmaster is taking the scenic route now that I’ve gotten her going, or the Armoury considers this important enough for me to know that it’s shifting the path in front of us to take longer. I’m leaning towards the latter.

“That’s where the Armoury and I come in, and thus you. Thankfully it’s rare even from my perspective, but whenever a Claimant comes across a Relic that’s either gone Feral or is about to, it gets brought here, where the Armoury holds it in a special environment that forces it into dormancy. After enough time has passed, the Relic’s… personality, for lack of a better word, settles down. The bloodlust cools, whilst retaining the majority of the power it’s gained. Then it can be returned to the world without worry it’ll go Feral again. Something about the process causes them to resist the very change they went through the first time. Finally we come to the residents of the Twilight Vault, which are one and all incapable of being rehabilitated. Usually it’s because their own instability has become self-sustaining, but there have been two that were a threat to the world as a whole simply by existing. Thankfully we still have the both of them. Regardless, instead of rendering them dormant, the Twilight Vault forcefully drains them of power and permanently locks them in a room completely devoid of mana, where they preferably stay for the rest of time.”

“But not all of them,” I note.

Her expression turns somber. “No. Not all. Leon was a kind boy, too kind, I think. It cost him in the end.”

I get the feeling that’s a sore topic for her, so I decide to leave it be for now. Which is good, because either by chance or design, we seem to have arrived at our destination.

The door doesn’t seem all that different from the others. It’s maybe a little larger and somewhat more ornate, but the broad strokes are pretty much the same. Dark wood with a simple silver inlay, and the ever present star motif that is becoming a tad overdone.

“Don’t you think the stars are getting a bit much?” I ask.

Armsmaster snorts. “Preaching to the choir, kid. I’ve tried redecorating more times than I care to count. Every change I make ‘fixes’ itself the moment I turn my back.”

“Huh. Alright then.” With that all important mystery resolved, I grab the door handle and push it open.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Woah,” I exclaim under my breath.

I was expecting weapons, but not quite this many.

Inside is a long room filled with rows of weapon racks, more than I can count at a glance. Each rack itself bears weapons of numerous designs, not a single one being repeated. Swords. Axes. Hammers and maces. Staves, bows, spears, knives of countless shapes and styles. They're all made of the same material, as well. A glittering black metal that seems to draw in the light, contrasted by tiny points of silver speckled throughout.

It’s honestly overwhelming.

“I don’t expect you to learn them all, obviously,” Armsmaster says, which immediately fills me with relief. “Don’t get me wrong, you learn quick, but no one’s that good. No, I’ve already picked out a few I feel are best suited for you, and we’ll start with those. If you decide you want to learn something else, then that’s fine, but I reckon it won’t be necessary.”

I spend a few more moments gaping at the vast selection, before I ask the first question on my mind, “Where did all this come from?”

“Whenever the Astral Armoury comes across a weapon design it’s not familiar with, it makes a new one based on that design. Each and every one before you is a Relic the Armoury created, though not like any you’ll come across on Aldor. They don’t generate their own mana, but they are nigh unbreakable and come with some useful tricks of their own, depending on the type.”

“Okay. Wow. That’s a lot of stuff,” I say. “Are Aspects normally this extensive, or is this another example of you and the Armoury breaking the rules?”

“I wouldn’t call it breaking the rules, per se, there’s a little more to it than that, but yeah, Aspects don’t really go this far. I told you, the Armoury is special.”

Once I’ve gotten all this under control in my head, I say, “Right. So what did you pick out for me?”

Armsmaster gives me a toothy grin. “I mentioned it when we met, actually, but it’s not surprising you forgot. It was the longsword, spear, daggers, unarmed combat, and the whip for funsies. The question for you is, where do you want to begin?”

**********************

“Seven days asleep, and still nothing. This is getting out of hand, Tamaya.”

Once more, Ariel was standing over her daughter. She was still worried, though the ever present need to watch over her had lessened somewhat after visiting Roland’s memorial. That simple plaque in the garden had loosened something in her that had been shut closed since before she left for Earth, and now Ariel felty oddly relieved. She still felt his absence, but Tamaya was right in that hiding on Earth had kept her from properly mourning, and she only now realised that for reasons she doesn’t fully understand, it hindered her relationship with Valerie.

Not significantly, but a part of her had kept distant when she shouldn’t have been, and now she feared she might not get the chance to fix it.

“I told you, she’ll wake when she is ready, there’s nothing we can do to force it along.” Tamaya said.

Tamaya might well be the only reason she hadn’t completely fallen apart, Ariel mused. The stress from the past week was completely different to the stress of battle, and Valerie was never particularly rambunctious as a child, so this whole mess had rather blindsided her. If it weren’t for Tamaya’s almost stubborn brand of patience, well, Ariel didn’t want to think of what she would have done.

Her friend's face turned pensive, as she considered something. “You know, there is one possibility we haven’t considered.”

Ariel looked at Tamaya, and without a word understood exactly what she was thinking.

“No. It’s not that.”

“And how would you know? You’ve been away for a long time Ari, things might have changed.”

Ariel shook her head. “I sent Rodrick a letter two days ago, and he replied this morning to confirm it. All known Legacies are accounted for, Tam. She’s not one of them.”

“There is one. All sources agree there’s seven, but only six are active at the moment.”

“The Astral Armoury hasn’t been seen in well over a thousand years, if it even exists at all. No. She’s not a Legacy. She can’t be.”

At that moment, Valerie stirred.

“Mom?”

Ariel’s attention immediately snapped to her daughter, filled with relief at seeing her awake.

“Valerie!”

Her gaze was slightly unfocused, likely a side effect of being asleep for so long, but remarkably, she looked otherwise completely fine.

“Where are we? This isn’t my room.”

“We’re in Tamaya’s house in Hortell. I brought you over to Aldor whilst you were under,” Ariel’s expression turned pensive. “You were out for a week, sweetie. I’m so sorry, this was never meant to happen.”

Unexpectedly, Valerie wasn’t surprised by this admission. “I know, Mom. The Armsmaster told me. She said it wasn’t your fault.”

It took Ariel a moment to figure out what Valerie meant. She hadn’t heard of the Armsmaster before, but she had met enough Guides to know when one was mentioned.

“You have a Guide? Really? That’s wonderful Valerie! That will make things so much easier on you.”

Valerie chuckled. “You’d think, wouldn’t you?”

She quickly began talking seemingly to herself, though it was obvious to Ariel that wasn’t the case. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, of course I’m glad for your help!”

Ariel and Tamaya laughed at that, and Tamaya said, “You don’t need to speak out loud, dear. Just direct your thoughts to her, she’ll hear you.”

It was apparent Valerie hadn’t realised there was someone else in the room, as she blushed and said, “Oh, hello. Sorry I didn’t see you there, please forgive me.”

In all fairness to Valerie, Ariel mused, Tamaya did have a habit of blending into the background, which was amusingly ironic given her Aspect turned her into a literal beacon of healing light.

Tamaya quirked an eyebrow, “It’s quite alright. I suppose a girl could be forgiven for not recognising her aunt, given this is our first meeting.”

“Aunt? Oh, you’re Tamaya? It’s so nice to meet you, Mom’s told me so much!”

“Really now? Like what?”

Tamaya not-so-discreetly glanced at Ariel, who was very deliberately not looking at her.

“Well, is it true that you once healed an entire town of a disease whilst suffering from it yourself, all in a single night?”

Tamaya gave Ariel a thoroughly unimpressed look, who in turn was faintly blushing. “Really? You’re still telling people that?”

Turning back to Valerie, she said, “Not exactly. It was closer to a moderate village. Still impressive, mind you. Your Mom just likes to exaggerate our achievements because she doesn’t like being in the spotlight.”

“Oh. That’s still pretty cool, though.”

Tamaya preened at Valerie’s praise, “I know right?”

Knowing Tamaya would just keep going until the end of time, Ariel decided to forcefully move things back on track.

“You said your Guide told you it wasn’t my fault you were under for so long, did she say what caused it?”

Valerie paused for a moment, the faraway look in her eyes a telltale sign of her listening to the Armsmaster. She had seen it with Roland enough times to recognise it.

“Um, she says it was a bad reaction from the Awakening Stone going through a portal gate whilst it was active. That, and my Aspect is, uh, ‘heftier’, than average. So it overstressed the Stone. Is what she said.”

“Overstressed it? Can I see it?” Ariel asked.

“Sure, hang on,” Valerie unclasped the necklace and pulled it out from under her shirt.

“Oh. I broke it.”

The Stone had a sizable crack running through it, and had lost the subtle lustre it once held, now appearing as if it was a piece of glass.

“That’s alright, sweetie. I’d rather lose it than you,” Ariel said. “You mentioned your Aspect? Could you tell me what it is?”

Valerie shifted in the bed a little. “It’d be easier to show you. But could I get something to eat first? I feel like I haven’t eaten in a week.”

Tamaya suppressed a laugh. “Of course, dear. Come along and I’ll put something together for you.”