An independent young woman and her skeleton dad. Those were the kinds of things Cira wished to see when she planned a vacation. The distant reaches of life that exist within these skies.
Five minutes into her talk with Pappy way back when she landed on Fount Salt, Cira had a clear picture of what was happening on the Boreal. The more time she spent here, the more obvious it was how right she was. In some cases, she hadn’t even gone far enough. The depths of mankind’s darkest heart always ran deep, but Cira was happy to help those among the extraneous fringes of society.
Mr. Skelton was a good man. A respectable one. Who knew how he was before he died, but hopefully the new curse would give him another shot. This was the most satisfied Cira had felt leaving an island in a very long time.
Life is good. It’s good to be alive, and not shattered into countless existential shreds. Not adrift among the aether nor hobbled up in a dark cabin cursing people to death.
“Cheers.” Cira raised her glass, sitting across from Nina at her rustic iron garden table. Her father once said he crafted it entirely with hand tools and no mana involved. It was an impressive feat. Nina raised a small custard cup of fresh squeezed apple juice and drink it as Cira casually sipped on a goblet of Elysian Draught.
I don’t think she can actually drink things… so where’s the juice going? Does she at least get to enjoy the taste?
“I still feel terrible about leaving them like that…” Cira’s gaze lulled over the azure horizon while the edge of the storm could be seen in the distance to Breeze Haven’s flank. “Do you think I should pop back in, Nina? I bet the council wouldn’t mind me showing the masses I can appear at any time, though I fear it will take a great deal of mana from this distance…”
Cira was conflicted, which went against her sorcerer’s code. This made her even more conflicted, ironically. Was she just too emotional or was her sorcerer’s code lacking in situational pliability? Either way, she was sure her father would never have left on a bad note, nearly cursing everyone they cared about.
Dammit. Stupid curses. If only I could afford to forget about them, and my false father… Can I surmount my trials if I abandon these primordial powers and focus on sorcery alone?
That bastard… He killed my father. Dad was so far beyond the heights of sorcery which I even have the right to strive for as I am now. So how could I possibly ignore these unknown powers? Do I even have time? Who just has centuries lyin’ around? Shirking this power goes against my code… More than that, how can I back down? I may as well return to that little cabin if I planned on taking the coward’s path.
We’re back to my reckless nature… Instead of blindly trying to fix it, I must ask…
“Why am I so reckless?” Nina blinked, “Is it due to my sorcerer’s code or a product of my upbringing? Which one, at that?”
The nymph held her hands out in the universal gesture of “I don’t know, why are you asking me?” then lapped up more apple juice.
“Dad always told me to think about my actions, and I distinctly remember trying to… This isn’t an entirely new development as it certainly got me into trouble when he was around, but perhaps it has only exacerbated in my isolation—hey…" Something in Cira’s peripherals caught her attention and her eyes went wide, “Holy shit… That thing is huge!”
A debris stone larger than any she had ever seen plummeted through the sky, pulling a trail of storm with it from the massive drag as it fell through the sky. Inspecting it with Spatial Sight told her it was actually much further than she thought.
“Oh no… That rock is damn near the size of Plackelo.” Cira had never seen anything so massive moving that fast. This was a truly monolithic rock plummeting through the skies at such great speeds she could hear it from here. Miles of earth forced the wind out of the way and now it even caused a breeze through her garden. “Hang on… Don’t I… Have to do something about that?”
Even if it were in path to fall on Fount Salt, it had enough mass to take out the sister cities and much of the surrounding surface easily. It was nowhere near the salty rock, but a smaller island would be absolutely decimated if they were unlucky enough to be in its path.
Can I… stop an island?
A tiny slap on her forehead broke her out of her thoughts. It was Nina and her eyes were determined. She fluttered down and took a seat on Cira’s right shoulder.
“You’re right.” Cira said before they both vanished into void lightning, leaving Breeze Haven behind.
Seconds later, she landed atop the falling island and quickly found herself blind to what was below. It was so huge that her Spatial Sight needed time to get through it.
“Dammit!” She turned into lightning again and skirted the surface of the island. It was faster than using geomancy to fall through it, but this still took a great deal of time. Outpacing her perception only made her more nervous and coming in between this mass of stone and another island would spell death even for someone of her level. She was pretty sure it would, anyway.
It felt like an eternity, but it was probably only about ten seconds. Upon materialization, Cira was instantly thrown to her back against the island above her as it continued to plummet. She didn’t realize it would be like this, but the weight of an entire island dropped her through the sky at far more meters per second than she had time to count in such a fluster.
Shit! I could actually die if I don’t stop this!
“Six Pillars of the Sage!” Cira desperately called upon her father’s tools, “I command you—support me!”
Six beams of light representing each primary element appeared, lodging into the island as it ruthlessly fell. Naturally, it was her orichalcum staff that appeared to channel sand-colored mana, but that was only because it was her father’s greatest earthen focus.
Aquon was merely a birthday gift, so a staff of glacial bedrock appeared. Like opaque ice of a brilliant cerulean hue, the entire haft served the catalytic purpose a gem at the top usually would. She thought she had authority over water with Aquon and her newfound undine heritage, but just being near this thing made her feel like a child again.
Dammit… Am I really so useless? Old Io was right after all.
The Six Pillars of the Sage were her father’s six precious staves. Together, they could command reality on par with fate, though distinctly not on the same level.
Rather than predetermined and absolute, their effect was more happenstantial. The Pillars relied on reality itself to change under direction using its own elements, rather than submitting to an order from beyond its influence. These tools were not for novices, and some of them weren’t even safe to be around.
While the orichalcum was unmatched in its authority over earth, this was simply too much. Cira couldn’t hope to levitate an island in a matter of seconds, especially while it was already at terminal velocity. She could only be grateful that it was all downhill from here. Or hopefully uphill… I guess?
“Hahhhh!!!!” Cira cried, aura dumping into the atmosphere like a pressurized flame.
The Infernal Scepter looked like a joke compared to the crimson halo of aether flame. She remembered her father wearing it above his head a single time to quell a mystical wildfire, but knew that technique was far too dangerous to attempt at her level. He often wielded it behind his back like Cira did when she pulled out Conduit, but it was plenty close now as far as she was concerned.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
The staves formed a circle around her and spread out across the impending surface of the plummeting island. Each one dug into the aether in an attempt to manifest Cira’s will, but it wasn’t looking good.
Long ago, Gazen slew the Roving Galewyrm. A legendary beast known to traverse from one sky to the next faster than the stiffest breeze, feeding on islands as a whole and all the berries of flesh they often contained before moving on. It was his duty as a sorcerer, but there was no particular client to pay him. The reward was the beast’s skeleton, which he melted down and condensed into the Galewind Focus—a mint-green staff of solid bone.
The sky yielded to its presence. A storm of clean air swirled and solidified, but there was only so much that could be done against such velocity. Cira could already feel razor thin blades of wind wearing through her barrier and lacerating her skin. Dammit, I need more time! How much do I even have?
There was only one way known to Gazen, and thus Cira, to materialize raw space in a form other than crystal. Cira could not accomplish it. The Sage, however, crafted a staff of pure cosmilicate—A metal-like material of condensed space. In theory, he advanced the concept of crystallized mana. The result was the equivalent of a handheld spatial mana well. Cira dared not touch it. Just as a mana well would command space from the aether, this staff commanded space to conform. It was a material she could only have dreamt of synthesizing back on Paradise for her spatial pylon.
Cira desperately channeled her will through Atlas to resist the imminent force of the falling island, but her control was weak. Her mind could barely take the strain and she was afraid to grasp for more control lest she split apart. She felt like her brain was bleeding trying to push against the island. Even with all the power at her fingertips, she simply couldn’t draw it out.
Dammit. Why? I didn’t think… I was truly this weak. It felt like the sky was falling, and even with her father’s most powerful staff, Atlas, she was powerless against it. Like the cave spiders all over again… She was pinned in place and doomed to suffer a terrible fate.
Water would do no good here without making things heavier, so she looked to the next Pillar.
“Prismagora…” This was her father’s fourth most powerful staff, and it meant a lot when he gave it to her. She was aware of her affinity allowing its usage, and it only widened the gulf between her and the other Pillars. Just as Cira could only wield the orichalcum’s base form, she had barely tapped into the powers of her staff of light. Made of a mysterious pearlescent bone she didn’t know the source of and a prism of sunforged glass, there was a reason it was her favorite staff. “Concentrate Radiance.”
The staff floated above Lost Cloud for months while she boiled and bubbled, its intent purpose to condense as much light as possible; if not for today, then when? At least she had control over it.
“Atlas… how much time do I have?” Despite the pain, Cira’s vision drifted directly below and found out she was a mere ten miles from crashing into an island.
Cira was seriously sweating now, but it was atomized the moment it left her pores as she fell through the sky at fearsome speeds.
All the Pillars being present bolstered their overall authority, but only three staves could really help her here. Cira pulled everything out of the Galewind Focus that she could muster, though it did precious little. Air resistance could only do so much with her feeble command, and the island’s speed was too great for her to truly manifest its presence.
“Worry not… You are the successor to the Great Sage!” The only time her dad claimed the title was to impress her, “But you should not wield Atlas until you are skilled enough to change its shape.”
Cosmilicate was also coined as absolute space. Anything could inhabit space, or everything. This material was essentially the maximum capacity of space, condensed to the point it couldn’t even be considered crystal anymore. All which filled space to create the world existed within this staff, but it was only a frail shard. Still, Cira had only just realized how small she was. Changing the shape of this staff was more difficult than bending orichalcum with her bare hands.
But Dad always exaggerated… I don’t have a choice.
“Atlas!” Her voice was hoarse as she fell through the air and aether, “Heed me now and shoulder the sky!”
When she became Fount Salt, it felt like her brain burned up in a million little fires that all dispersed so they could have more room to burn, but that eventually led to her consciousness that spanned tens of miles at will.
Right now, she felt similar, but the pain was far more acute. Meaning, those bursts of flames felt more like the stars in the sky, infinite and unyielding. Her mind was practically melting—everything went black and she could only feel the mass of earth hurling through the aether. Sky moved out of the way, and all was dark within its vast presence where light could not reach for miles.
It’s… all here. This is a piece of an island, isn’t it? How foolish I was to jump out in front of it.
She did not realize until this very ambiguous moment a key factor about natural disasters—the pinnacle manifestations of nature. Like a flood, storm, or wildfire, the earth falling was something that had happened countless times throughout this world’s lifespan. Cira was sure much larger islands had fallen. Just imagining Fount Salt plummeting to the sea was enough to give her shivers.
This earth belongs to the sky already… Perhaps woven in fate or a result of accumulated influence, this island is far beyond my authority as I am now.
Cira could feel the sky, though she could not see it, per se. As such, she felt the falling stone, and the island below, all the life upon it, and the speed at which the space between them narrowed.
She had heard the limerick of the unstoppable spear and the indestructible shield as a child, but she was almost certain that a falling island and one hung in place by a spring’s presence would end in catastrophe no matter who won.
“Atlas! Make it stop!!!!!” Cira had no incantations for halting something so massive under the influence of this world’s natural order, so all she could do was imbue her will into her pleas. Her aura didn’t seem like enough, but something else bolstered it. “I demand… this stone slow down!”
Her own body threatened to be crushed as she used it to add just a little bit more force to slow the island down. She thought it was working a little, but it was difficult to tell how fast. In the absence of time, all she could perceive was distance. Eight miles became five, and that became two by the time Cira realized she was finally slowing down to a noticeable, but marginal degree.
“Prismagora!” Cira shouted as the island fast approached below, “Bastion of Preservation!”
This was the absolute highest sorcery Cira could muster—it even dwarfed Symphony of Dawn’s light. All that radiance she concentrated fell upon the island below and started condensing. She spared no amount of light the staff accumulated in her slumber, dwindling her stockpile of gathered mana to nil, but that was fine.
Aether flame was miraculous enough, but light when forced into solid form held more potential energy than any other element. There were many factors, but its inherent speed gave it dominance over all other solid materials—cosmilicate notwithstanding.
A solid dome of light. This was the Bastion of Preservation. The conversion alone to turn potential energy into resistance took at least half the force, and the onus to pay was on whatever opposed this barrier. The effulgent barrier covered the island as Cira was first in line in front of the falling stone, about to crash at what felt like damn near-terminal velocity. She did everything she could to slow it down with Atlas at great expense to whatever part of her essence it required, but there was no way she could ever bring it to a stop—it was practically an island in itself. That was just not something a sorcerer of her caliber could accomplish.
She looked over to her right shoulder and Nina looked back at her with a faint smile. The nymph could just phase through anything and ultimately be fine, but her support went a long way.
“You’re right again… How could I ever call myself a sorcerer… If I can’t do this much?! HYAHHHH!!!”
Cira commanded all six Pillars from the void-like state her mind had become. Instead of impending nothing, all she could perceive was aether, and that was exactly what she needed.
Impact would come soon and there was only so much she could do. In her final moments, Cira channeled Prismagora to show her that which the light beheld since here eyes didn’t seem to work. As if they heard it from miles away, tens of seconds ago at best. Frightened faces watched the miles-wide mass of earth enveloped in rampaging mana of all kinds approach with resolution and defeat in their eyes. Many of them fell to the ground when they saw the unidentified barrier pour over the sky.
This isn’t it… “I refuse!” The cold metal staff in her right hand was difficult to discern, and it seemed to burn up her will like mana. Using it was painful and meticulous. In her other hand, a much more familiar wooden staff. For moral support if nothing else.
“Auld Sprig…” Names held power, depending on the name, of course. This one in particular was not to be spoken lightly, “Please do not defy my will.”
She had no idea what the Auld Sprig was, nor where it came from, nor did she care to. The only thing she knew was that it was always there, and it could do anything she ever tried to do, to some degree at least. Granted she never tested its extents after Gazen rescued her, it was one of the few things that had never let her down, for what it’s worth.
“Auld Sprig.” The Bastion of light was moments from crushing her existence to dust as she spoke with a modicum more confidence, “Let me prevail.”
Cira remembered very vividly how it felt to have her soul fall apart. Lomp was there when she was grappling with the reality of her situation, but her soul was far more fluid these days. In fact, it almost felt like its reforged state was more resilient to damage. Whether this had always been for the past couple weeks or if it had become this way was both unknown and inconsequential.
“Auld Sprig… Pillars…” Cira released one last plea to the sky as the light’s prevailing resistance burned the skin off her face, “Don’t… let me down.”
Essence was a complex balance of corporea and aetherea. and at least one fell sustenance to the Great Firmament of Prismagora.
Hang on. I might be dead. Now is not the time to be coining names, no matter how cool they may be.