4th day of Scarlettide, 1367

[Quintessence] 4703/16000

The ramshackle cottage crouched, as though apologetic, at the edge of the dense Eldergrove forest. A solitary wisp of smoke curled lazily from the rickety chimney, lost in the verdant canopy. Dark mud clung to the sides of the cottage in splotches like stains on an old shirt. A thin line of cobblestone traced a crooked path from the front door to the small field out back where a group of wildflowers bloomed, their petals a brilliant purple, each one shaped like a five-petal star.

Ebonheim stepped lightly along the mossy path that lead to the cottage, her bare feet falling softly on the green earth as she made her way to the door.

The door of Th'maine's cottage creaked open, its timeworn hinges whining in protest. She peered into the dimly lit interior. A hodgepodge of arcane paraphernalia, countless manuscripts stacked haphazardly, and countless items of indiscernible purpose were strewn about the cramped space.

She knocked on the doorframe. "Th'maine?" Ebonheim called out. "Are you here?"

As her eyes adjusted to the dimness inside, she saw Th'maine himself with his back turned to her as he rummaged around inside his work table.

"Ah! You're here." The reclusive Archanist turned to greet Ebonheim with a wizened smile while holding a few pieces of parchment in hand. "I've been expecting you."

He stepped away from his cluttered desk, navigating the labyrinth of his abode with an ease only familiarity could afford. "Come in," he gestured towards the only empty spot in his room—a simple stool tucked away in the corner by the wall. "Sit down. I'll be right with you." He made his way over to the small hearth that crackled on the other side of the room and began preparing tea.

Ebonheim stepped inside and took her seat, keeping a respectable distance from the cluttered mess around her as she waited for him to finish making tea. Her gaze swept over the hodgepodge of clutter. Scrolls strewn about like they’d been tossed in the throes of fevered revelation, age-tattered tomes, and the acrid scent of herbs all spoke of a mind consumed in the throes of relentless discovery.

"I hope you'll forgive the disorder," Th'maine said as he added the dried herbs to the teapot along with a measure of water. "An Arcanist's mind often mirrors his surroundings."

Ebonheim let out a small laugh and nodded. "It's fine," she said with a slight smile. "It's... comforting."

Th'maine gave her a half-grin as he picked up the teapot and took it over to the small table between them, brushing aside several papers and bits of parchment on his way. He settled into his own seat, his expression thoughtful as he considered her for a moment before he began to speak again. "You're wondering why I called you here today."

Ebonheim nodded again and waited for Th'maine to continue.

Th'maine set down the teapot and picked up a pair of small cups. "Well," he began, "it's to help with my research." He poured a measure of tea into each cup before he set one down in front of Ebonheim. "I was hoping you could help with something." He brought his own cup to his lips and took a small sip before setting it back on the table with a small sigh.

Ebonheim picked up her cup and took a small sip before she answered, "I don't mind. What do you need help with?" The tea was bitter—the taste of dry herbs and black tea, but Ebonheim appreciated the warmth that spread through her mouth and throat as she took another sip.

With a nod, Th'maine picked up a hefty tome from a stack nearby. The cover, worn and faded, held an air of profound antiquity. "I've dedicated my life to a singular pursuit, Ebonheim," he began, his voice as grave as the words he spoke. "A quest to unravel the secrets of the Akashic System."

She spat out a mouthful of tea at his words, coughing uncontrollably before she managed to clear her throat and compose herself again. "W-what?" she stuttered. "Wha—how—Why?" A sliver of tea dribbled down her chin before she wiped it away with the back of her hand.

Th'maine gave her an amused smile as he watched her reaction to his revelation. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked, as though his words were self-evident and Ebonheim was being ridiculous for not understanding them on sight.

Ebonheim eyed him suspiciously. "No," she said flatly. "It's not."

Th'maine chuckled at her response before leafing through the tome until he found the page he sought. "For eons, Arcanists have tried, and failed, to pierce the veil of its mysteries. It's been a century since the last true Arcanist took up this task and dedicated their life to the search for its mysteries."

He leaned close to her, prompting her to lean away from him as his eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "Do you know why?"

Ebonheim shook her head slowly, keeping her eyes focused on Th'maine as he leaned in even closer—his nose an inch from her own as he stared right back into her eyes, his gaze burning with zealous fervor. "Because," he said, "it doesn't want to be pried into."

"Wh—what doesn't?" she asked warily.

Th'maine placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The Akashic System." His fingers dug into her skin, his grip like a vise. "It doesn't want to be uncovered."

Ebonheim swallowed nervously, her eyes flickering to his hand and back to his eyes as she peeled his fingers off her shoulder—his right hand was missing a couple of fingers, which made his grip even more unsettling. "Okay," she said as she pulled away from him. "So, what are you getting at with this exactly?"

Th'maine cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat, letting out a small cough as he did so. "Ah, yes," he said as he flipped through the pages of the tome before he found the section he wanted. "As you know, we've recently experienced an... unusual event."

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Ebonheim nodded slowly. "The Elemental Conflux."

Th'maine paused for a moment before he gave Ebonheim a sagely nod. "Yes," he said, "the Elemental Conflux." He paused again to take a sip from his cup before he continued. "As you also know, such a conflux is a rarity in these lands—it only occurs when four elemental conglomerations converge in close proximity."

Ebonheim nodded again, keeping her eyes on Th'maine as she sipped from her cup.

"As rare as it is, however," Th'maine said as he continued to read through the pages of the tome, "such an event cannot be ignored." He let out a soft hum as he flipped through page after page before he finally found what he sought.

"According to ancient texts," he said with a note of triumph in his voice, "such an event can only be stopped by sealing off the source of elemental energies."

She set her cup down and stared at him with a flat expression. "And where exactly were you when the elders and I were trying to find out what was going on when this all began?"

Th'maine paused and stared at Ebonheim with an expression of mild indignation as though the question was absurd. "I was right here, safe and sound," he said with an offended huff. "I've cast magic that helped my cottage weather the storm. As you can see, I've not been caught in the elements." He gestured to the room around them with a flourish as if to emphasize his point.

"Right...unlike my hut," she said drily as she gazed around at the mess that surrounded them.

Th'maine cleared his throat again and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Anyways, my point is," he began again, "that the Conflux is but one of many phenomena that the Akashic System may be responsible for. In order to avert future calamities that it could cause, its secrets must be uncovered."

"You think this...system was responsible?" Ebonheim asked skeptically. The thought that it had a hand in manifesting the phenomenon seemed absurd. All it has ever done was present quests to her after the fact—whether those quests were daily tasks around the village, or from sudden dangers that impacted the village in some way.

"Oh, come now. You don't need to try and hide it." Th'maine let out a small laugh as he picked up the tome again and flipped through its pages again. "You don't have to pretend to not know about the system. It's been well-documented by the Arcanists of old that the gods and the Akashic System were intricately connected."

Ebonheim's eyes widened slightly, and she found herself unable to form any words—her mouth opening and closing like a fish on land as she tried to formulate a response.

Th'maine ignored Ebonheim's shocked expression. "Now," he began, "we know that the system exists, but we've long been uncertain how it works." He stopped on a certain page in the tome and pointed at the text written there.

Her lips curled into an uneasy smile, and she shrugged nonchalantly as she tried to keep up the appearance of indifference. "Uh... okay?" she said as she took another sip of her tea. "What's so important about knowing how it works?"

“Understanding,” Th’maine replied simply, his voice level and calm, almost like he was merely discussing a favored hobby with a close friend. "A chance to glimpse the celestial mechanics that dictate our existence. To know why a god is born and another fades. To discern the echoes of faith that fuel divine quintessence. And ultimately,” he paused, looking at her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine, "to know the truth about our world."

His dedication to his craft was undeniable—but this conversation had strayed far from Ebonheim's comfort zone. It was like being a deer who had run straight into a steel trap—there was no escape.

"Uh," Ebonheim tried to formulate an answer, "So, what kind of help do you want from me?"

Th'maine pulled Ebonheim out of her reverie with a loud clap as he set his cup down with a grimace and let out a cough to clear his throat. "I've been studying the Akashic System for decades," he continued, his voice barely a whisper. "It's a complex, dynamic structure, perpetually evolving, changing. And you, Ebonheim, you're an anomaly, an enigma within an enigma."

Ebonheim blinked, unsure of how to react. She was a simple deity, born from the villagers' faith and love. How could she be an anomaly?

Th'maine gave Ebonheim a thin smile as he leaned in closer again. "If there's anyone who could help me, help us uncover its secrets and decode its mysteries," he said, his voice dripping with false sincerity, "It's you. You are the only deity that would be willing to let us mortals take a glimpse into its divine workings."

Ebonheim laughed nervously and leaned away from Th'maine again as she ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. "You're... you're asking too much," she said as she gazed around the cluttered room—her eyes drifting to a large crystal ball on top of a table nearby that caught the sunlight that streamed through the windows and refracted through its facets.

Th'maine held his hands up in a gesture of peace. "Now, now," he said with a soft chuckle, "I'm not expecting you to help me this moment." He settled back into his seat and regarded her with a frown. "I understand that what I'm asking is quite the demand," he continued as he stroked his scraggly beard thoughtfully, "and I would never ask you to give anything you weren't ready to offer."

Ebonheim let out a small sigh and nodded as she took another sip from her tea.

Th'maine gestured to the tome on the table between them and gave her a wry grin. "Perhaps, when you're ready to help me with my research," he said, "I could do something in return?"

Ebonheim raised a questioning brow and eyed him suspiciously. "And what could you do in return?" she asked warily.

Th'maine gave Ebonheim a sly smile and waved his hand around in a flourish. "I can teach those who wish to learn the arcane from me." He picked up his cup again and took another sip before continuing. "Those who wish to expand their own knowledge and grasp on the arcane arts. I would be glad to teach them. I'm sure the village will benefit from having Arcanists amongst its ranks."

Ebonheim pondered his offer for a moment. Having him teach others would be good for the village—if they had more mages, they could better defend against future disasters, like the Elemental Conflux that had hit the village.

Th'maine stood up with a soft groan and gathered his teacups, taking them over to the wash basin by the far wall. "So," he said as he began to rinse his cups, "when you're ready to help me with my research, just come by again."

Ebonheim nodded slowly and took another sip from her cup to finish the last of her tea. "Okay," she said as she stood up to leave. "I'll keep your offer in mind."

Th'maine flashed her a toothy grin and nodded. "Good," he said with a chuckle as he walked her to the door and held it open for her. "You take care on your way back."

Ebonheim gave him a small smile and walked down the path outside, heading back to the village. As she walked, she mulled over her conversation with Th'maine. While she wasn't exactly keen on helping him with his research, having more mages on their side might be a good idea—but to help him uncover the secrets of the Akashic System was a tough ask. Who knew what consequences such a discovery could bring? There was probably a good reason why these Arcanists had failed to discover the System's secrets after all this time.

The truth about our world. Th'maine's words echoed in her mind, ringing in her ears like the toll of a funeral bell. Honestly, such thoughts never crossed her mind. All of her attention was focused on the mundane, on the things that mattered to her—things like protecting her subjects from harm, providing for their needs, and watching them grow in contentment.

If she did decide to help Th'maine uncover the secrets of the Akashic System, could she take responsibility for any consequences? After all, what would happen if doing so endangered the village?

Ebonheim shook her head with a sigh. These questions could wait until a time when she had an answer to them.