How long had it been?

Even that simple question had a fuzzy answer in the mind of Miretrix Lampleer.

Why was she here again?

Through the fog of eternity, Miretrix recalled a recollection of a recollection. A conversation about something.

Miretrix’s memory was so worn that it was more like recalling a feeling. But this feeling had a phrase attached.

“Virtuus Lake,” Miretrix said, speaking the name aloud to cement the importance of the place further, adding another thin layer upon the already uncountable layers of emphasis in the recesses of her reminiscence.

Virtuus Lake. That was where Miretrix hovered… but the relatively small lake was no more. All that remained was an unrecognisable, overgrown shallow pit that stretched wide about a kilometre across. Muted light from the clouded heavens above fell upon the green grass, small trees and shrubs that had taken over the dry lakebed. Red, orange, yellow and brown autumn coats were shed innocently all across the flourishing meadow. Small rustlings in the brush hinted at the presence of rodents and other timid endemic life.

Had this alien lake been as it was when Miretrix was but a fledgling, would she have even been able to recall it?

Despite the serene atmosphere, Miretrix could not help but feel a deep sense of sadness and regret as she made her way through the small forest, though she could not recall why. The lord’s mind began to wander, causing Miretrix to hastily remind herself once more: “Virtuus Lake.” She mumbled to herself.

Miretrix’s anamnesis continued, leading her to the centre of the lake. The trees here were tallest, their shade rendering the scene dark. There, in a shaded clearing, broken pillars of azure stone lay splintered, the smallest pieces of lustrous mineral overtaken by the overgrowth. In an instant, Miretrix deciphered the runic markings covering the pillars. It was like second nature, more an extension of her body than any sort of puzzle. The pillars were meant for protection.

There was a simple plinth there of white moonstone. Dregs of moss clung to the sides of the plinth but had been burned away from the top of the mystical moonstone itself, where it could not survive once the mineral powered up upon being struck by the moon’s light.

With the moon now destroyed by Miretrix’s own spell, that plinth would soon be overgrown. But Miretrix was in no mind to have such thoughts.

The plinth itself was hauntingly vacant.

An itch formed at the back of Miretrix’s mind. Her right hand moved automatically to a secret pocket at her rear, entering a space far larger than physically possible.

From that space, her right hand brought the object forward like clockwork, towards the plinth. Miretrix halted her body, which seemed to move of its own volition, purely by muscle memory.

The fairy looked down.

Something was not right.

It was an ornate glass orb. The grains inside were deep red, like dried blood. The entire artefact was absolutely covered in microscopic runes, hidden from plain sight by fine masking enchantments at either end, visible to Miretrix only through her inherent magisight as a fairy.

The mere sight of the item filled Miretrix with great urgency.

Before Miretrix could form any thoughts, she threw the glassy container onto the moonstone pedestal before her. The object splintered into tiny pieces, spreading the fine red dust all over the place.

Covered in red sand, the azure pillars lit up, reconstructing themselves, tearing up plant fibre and root alike as all the fragmented pieces came together once more. Whole once more, the pillars pulsed a single time with magical energy. At once, water flooded the clearing, bursting forth from the pillars and bubbling up violently from the ground below. In less than a second, Miretrix was swept away, then dragged underwater by the swirling currents. She struggled against the tide, her vision confused and full of stars, knocked about by the powerful waves smashed into trees and the hardened lakebed. She tumbled about in disorientating darkness.

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“You will never reach the truth.” A familiar voice said, speaking into her mind. But Miretrix was unable to place the speaker’s voice.

Miretrix awoke.

She was outside the entrance to ADAM’s Labyrinth.

ADAM himself was visible to her right. A golden vision, impossible to behold in their entirety. And yet, somehow the mortal Miretrix was able to gaze straight into their face without flinching. ADAM’s eyes shone like the stars.

“Virtuus Lake. You have one week.” That was the only thing ADAM said.

Virtuus Lake?

It was a cursed place. A myth persisted that those who drank from its waters would be granted eternal life, but it was well known that the lake had long since run dry. And any who might try to verify that fact ran the risk of falling victim to the Lake’s curse. Those who approached Virtuus Lake were known to have their minds contaminated by some strange power.

With ADAM’s clue, Miretrix felt that she had some idea of what was being asked of her. To Tenebria Coronum’s youngest lord, Virtuus Lake was more than a myth; it was her hometown. And if she was to survive the journey there, she would need a spell of protection. But rather than return to the Coronum, her intuition strangely directed her to travel elsewhere.

Miretrix’s body moved almost of its own accord. A flap of her wings drew a magic circle out of pixie dust in the air in front of her. From her sleeve, Tenebria Coronum’s lord effortlessly brought forth reagents thrown into place, completing the powdered arrangement before it even had time to distort in the air.

From the lightning-fast sleight of hand drawing the reagent from her sleeve to the uncanny accuracy and precision of her throw, Miretrix’s motions resembled the refined motor skills of the greatest Incandestine entertainer ‘magicians’.

At once, Miretrix was far away. She appeared in a dark alley, dilapidated buildings loomed claustrophobically overhead, beneath the polluted night sky.

For a moment, the magical adept paused, unsure where she was. But, Miretrix felt a powerful urge to continue to where the alley met the street, and with haste. Something within compelled her. Like the urge to eat when one was hungry, or the urge to put on warm clothes when one was cold.

Trusting her intuition, Miretrix gave into the signals her body was sending her. She paid no heed to the rats scurrying along the gutters and drainpipes, nor the hurried shuffling of cloth and moans transforming into muffled yelps from the alcoved doorway to her right. The fairy’s wings automatically guided her away from the pail of filth thrown without warning from a window stories above her. Not a single drop of the rancid liquid landed on the lord, whose nose had already wrinkled itself in preparation.

Miretrix left the alley and walked directly to the bread vendor on her left. Her hand stretched out and grabbed one of the mouldy loaves, the third one along the bottom row.

“Hey!-” the vendor began to protest.

Miretrix paid the beanie-wearing man with scraggly facial hair no mind. With a confused frown, she broke the loaf open over her knee. It was as hard and as tough as a brick, but it snapped open like a child’s gift candy from Myzin, the fairy’s knee finding the perfect spot on the bread. A glowing white cocoon was revealed within the stale cross-section. Miretrix removed the memory maggot, slipping it into one of her countless hidden pockets. She flapped her wings once more and completed the teleportation spell, disappearing to a different place once more.

The vendor was stunned into silence, staring at the space where the Coronum’s Lord had just been. What had just happened? Why was she there?

Sudden shouts broke out from the house across the street, sending a dented frying pan smashing through the window, striking the wall of the building above the bread vendor’s stall.

“Hey!-” the bread vendor began to protest once more. He was interrupted as ominous cracks and groans emanated from the shoddy brickwork. With a yelp, the man leapt clear as the building collapsed on top of his livelihood.

Miretrix’s body continued to move without the need for thought. She travelled from place to place, methodically collecting magical reagents. It was like breathing. Miretrix realised that although she had no active recollection of ever revisiting Virtuus Lake, the way her body moved, the way that her motor skills had seemingly improved, betrayed something crucial.

But betrayed what exactly? Even Miretrix herself was unsure, but something unusual was definitely afoot. Had she cast a spell on herself? How did her body know how to create a magic circle from the dust gathered on her wings? How did it know where to send her? How did it know to navigate herself through the alley, and which loaf of bread to grab? How did it know that a rare memory maggot would be nested there?

But the memory maggot was just the first of several reagents that her body possessed muscle memory for. A vial of stolen water from the Tempest Fountain, found mislabeled in an Amurin pawn shop. Grains of volatile Naricorn horn residue, buried beneath a thick layer of snow in the frozen wasteland known as The Spill east of Mount Zagros.

As Miretrix’s reagent pilgrimage continued, her great mind was beginning to piece together the effect of any possible spells that could be constructed with the reagents that fell into her hands. Miretrix considered the possibilities.

The fairy was inevitably headed towards the cursed ground of Virtuus Lake. If she was to survive the maligned force that lingered there, she would need a protective spell or enchantment. She would also need something to repair the Lake’s broken heart. But, the Lord did not know what kind of damage it had sustained, or what would remedy it. And, it was difficult to safely obtain that information.

Miretrix simply did not know enough about what had become of her home. She could not risk travelling there to investigate the damage, only to return at a later date with the solution, because she did not know if her protections were sufficient. If she lost her mind before she could escape, there would be no hope of solving ADAM’s trial.