Kade saw Nicky die over and over again. It was all he could see, his mind trapped in a loop that he couldn’t escape. There was no true, conscious thought, his body was simply acting, and he only caught flashes of the real world between the heartbreaking, soul-tearing memories of Nicky’s last moments. Part of him could feel it though, the repeated impact of blades into flesh. Part of him could hear the echoes of his own screams of rage and pain.

He didn’t know how he was still alive, madly attacking an Elder, even a dying one. He just knew anger and loss, and somehow even betrayal. But more than that was the guilt, cresting over him in endless waves. It was strange, the powerlessness of standing right in front of someone as they died, and knowing that he was less than nothing compared to the threats of this world, it should have made him feel small and terrified. Instead, he had an overpowering feeling that he should have been able to help. If only he’d been stronger, faster, or…or used every tool at his disposal. The bracer weighed heavily on his arm, even through the maelstrom of emotions storming inside him.

Nicky hadn’t been in his life for any significant time in the grand scheme, but she’d been by his side for nearly his entire life on Iros, and even if that was measured in days and hours, it felt significant. More than that, Nicky had made him feel normal, at a time when his entire world was madness. He realized in retrospect that was why he’d been so quick to joke with her, to tease and banter, because with her, even a sermon on the different types of Elders felt like relaxing with a friend…and now his friend was dead. He was lost in a world he couldn’t hope to understand, and his friend was dead.

He became aware of his own body again only when irresistibly strong arms grasped him and began dragging him backward. He flailed wildly, still screaming with rage. “You have to stop, lad, please. Just stop,” it took a moment to register the voice as Edwin’s, and even then it took longer to force his body to stop thrashing.

The scene was only just becoming clear, and he could see that he’d been ineffectually stabbing at the Elder’s bulbous head for what felt like hours, but must have been moments. Eleonora was there now, her massive shields blocking a series of poorly aimed attacks that Kade hoped were its death throes, enormous spikes lazily being hurled at her almost contemptuously.

“Any one of those things should have killed me,” he said in confusion, staring at the pile of discarded spikes surrounding the spot he’d been attacking. “How am I not dead?”

“Nicky. She didn’t trust you to stay back, said she was going to ‘give you the smoke treatment’,” Edwin’s voice was flat and emotionless as he stared at the dying Elder, its attacks finally coming to a slow, desperate end. Hearing the pain in the old warrior, Kade was suddenly mortified, realizing how selfish his grief and foolish attack had been. He looked at the older man, but couldn’t read anything on his stoic face.

“I remember now, she touched my chest and said I would be safe for a time…she saved me,” he tried to find the courage to look in the man’s eyes before continuing. “I’m sorry, Edwin, I’m sorry for Nicky,” he paused, considering. “I’m still putting things together, but you’ve all mentioned lives longer than I can really process, you could have known her for centuries.” Edwin let out a small, choked sound at that, the greatest show of emotion he’d seen from the man.

“No,” he responded at last, voice broken. “She was seventeen.”

***

Kade had tried to give everyone space after that. He realized he didn’t know anywhere near enough about these people, or their customs to join them properly in their grief, and tried to be respectful. He got the impression from some that this type of loss was all too commonplace, and they seemed to find comfort in talking quietly about the battle, and even laughing occasionally.

Others appeared every bit as devastated as Edwin has been, both from the loss of a shockingly young Nicky, as well as the fiery Elementalist named Larin, who Kade made sure to learn about. Mostly he just sat quietly, staring at the Elder who had taken from all of them, watching as the light inside it was slowly drained, until finally it faded with a final, weak flash, and the rest of the remains simply collapsed into dust and stone, as if it never was.

Kade noticed the half-dozen spears fall unceremoniously to the ground, the sound echoing through the hills. Several of the Keepers even let a brief expression of glee touch their faces before quickly schooling their features, but they still raced to the dropped spears with abandon. Kade lost sight of them as the group crowded around the space where the Elder’s Core had been. He had a sense of what the spears did, mostly from half-heard conversations, and he could understand the excitement–even under the circumstances.

He watched with interest as Eleonora pushed easily through the group, then strained to hear as they had some kind of discussion. At last the massive woman–now back to only four arms–left the group and walked back to Edwin, who was speaking quietly with Alara and Graves. There was some more talking before Alara gestured furiously and stormed away. Edwin seemed to ignore the outburst, turning to speak with Eleonora before giving a very weak smile, and following after Alara.

Kade stood up from the grassy artificial hill–still surprised at the familiarity of much of the plant-life in this world–as he saw the Keeper Commander approaching him. She wasted no time and no words, simply held out two objects and waited for him to take them. “Muscle and Magic. Edwin arranged for you to have them–at enormous personal cost. Don’t let him down,” the command was clear in her tone, but she didn’t sound disapproving, exactly. He was surprised though, when she brought forward another object, somehow drawing his eyes despite its appearance being relatively plain compared to the glowing gems he now held.

It looked to be nothing but a silver bar, about the length of his forearm. Glistening black wire wove around it, forming what had to be a hand-grip. He felt drawn to reach out and take the object, and hesitated only until he saw Eleonora’s nod. Shifting both gems to his left hand, he reverently wrapped the fingers of his free hand around the grip, taking the strange bar and retreating a step as foreign sensations ran through him. He couldn’t quite place the alien feelings that seemed to vibrate through the odd bar, but instinct seemed to drive him to flourish it, and he obliged with a flick of his wrist.

The bar extended too quickly for his eyes to follow, and in a flash of gleaming silver, he was holding a spear. It was longer than he was tall, but not so much so as to be unwieldy; instead it felt light and eager, as if it was just waiting to be spun about or taken into battle. The spear was still nearly as plain as the rod it hard started out as, with the bladed tip looking like nothing more than a large arrowhead. The only affectation was a small symbol carved directly into the spearhead. Kade brought it closer to his face to examine it, and Eleonora followed his example, leaning closely with curiosity.

The crest, as Kade thought of it, was made from surprisingly recognizable imagery. It was a shield with spears crossed behind it, and on the shield was something Kade could only describe as a dragon. Eleonora clearly recognized the symbol, as she immediately turned and spit on the ground. “Well that certainly makes me feel better about giving up an Artifact to someone who isn’t ready for a slap fight,” her voice was dismissive until she met his eyes, then she appeared chagrined. “I didn’t mean that, I apologize. We’re giving that to you specifically because you were able to contribute to a battle so far beyond you that pissing in your chains should have been the only strategy available,” she made an expression that Kade thought was supposed to be earnest gratitude, but looked more she smelled something off.

“You’re giving me an…artifact?” he asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to make her release the expression. At her size the awkward smile couldn’t help but appear predatory. It worked, as she shifted to the face Kade was beginning to recognize meant his translation was off.

“An Artifact is a memory of a real object that somehow manages to manifest after being lost or destroyed. Ask a scholar if you want to know more, I’ve never cared where my weapons come from, just that they work,” she looked at the simple longspear, then finished grudgingly. “That thing will work, even if it is [cursed-antitrust-fallen-lost-betrayal-divine].”

Kade quickly looked to his bracer, several of those words ringing alarm bells. He was surprised when the translation failed even there, giving blasphemous as the closest approximation. “Do I even want to know what it is about this symbol you don’t trust?” Eleonora shook her head dismissively.

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“It’s fine. Just a lost order who worshiped lost gods. You’d have to find someone very old to be truly concerned by it, most of us just hold any [blasphemous] objects in mild disdain,” she looked desperate to change the subject and didn’t bother with any segway. “People will notice it’s an Artifact though; they’re remarkably rare, and are usually passed on for generations. Normally it would be so valuable that no one here would even think to lay claim to it; some might kill for it, and we’d never be allowed to keep it once the Order found out.”

“But the…blasphemy changes that?” he asked, not ready to put a target on his back in a world where everything seemed capable of snuffing his life out by accident. Eleonora shook her head and let out a small snort.

“We didn’t know about that mark, which you shouldn’t advertise by the way. It won’t matter to most, but let’s just say it’s–” she smiled a crooked smile, “--a miracle that the symbol isn’t visible when it’s sheathed. But no, the reason it’s worthless to almost anyone is that it’s fundamentally metallurgistic.” Kade cocked an eyebrow and she clarified, obviously out of her element. “It can only be used by someone with a connection to metallurgy, like your chains. And pretty much every metallurgist alive is a craftsperson of some kind, and even then they’re a rarity. To anyone else it would just be a metal bar.”

Kade looked curiously at the spear, “But that doesn’t make sense, why would there be a weapon that can only be used by someone who doesn’t fight?” Eleonora shrugged, clearly irritated to still be speaking

“Again, ask a scholar. All I know is that a weapon like that to most metallurgists is like giving me a spatula Artifact; it doesn’t matter how powerful or rare it might be, I’m not a cook. That it’s a blasphemous spatula just makes it that much safer to give away.” Again she seemed to catch herself, and let out a calming breath. “I’m doing this wrong. You helped us, saved lives. That’s yours. Thank you.” Without waiting, she turned and walked away, leaving Kade to stare at the spear in his hands, still wondering why it somehow felt like it didn’t belong to him.

***

Hours later, Kade was sitting in camp, staring at the three powerful objects he’d been given, trying desperately to convince himself they hadn’t been paid for with Nicky’s life. The spear was back in its rod-form, which he found could attach to his belt through metallurgy; resting it horizontally behind him meant it was within easy reach while still being out of the way. He hadn’t managed to do anything more than get it to switch between its two forms, but Edwin suggested it was likely that most of its power would take a full-fledged metallurgist to bring out, and even then probably one who’d taken many steps of the Path.

Edwin had been the only one of the small group that had spoken since they parted with the other Keepers. Alara was still furious, whether just because of the loss of Nicky, or something else, Kade couldn’t guess. The imperious woman had simply deployed her tent–another piece of Dalton technology apparently–and gone inside the moment they stopped for rest. Graves had just drifted away somewhere, his taciturn nature making it difficult to tell how affected he might be by the events of the day.

Kade put the spear handle down, and let his mind drift as he felt the two gems in his hand–one was somehow both hard yet pliable, with the other tingling in his grip like static electricity. He realized that the pain of loss had broken some barrier in him, and he felt like he was finally looking at the world around him as something truly real, any lingering doubt or disbelief banished by the brutal reality of losing someone. In that new context, he understood that he had to answer some questions for himself that he’d taken for granted.

What was he doing here? What was his goal? Just survival as it had been in the labyrinth? That didn’t feel right. Whether it was arrogance or providence, he felt like he had to be here for a reason, and he was increasingly certain that reason would require him to become vastly more powerful than he had ever known was possible. And that line of thinking was what brought him such conflict, and what made the guilt from earlier crystalize in its origin.

Edwin had spoken about the bracer he wore, the Legend surrounding it and the tragedy that seemed to befall its wearers. But Kade had been reminded today that tragedy didn’t require a mysterious bracer; in this world especially, it seemed to be waiting behind every corner. Edwin hadn’t been certain of the stories, regardless. Yes it wasn’t a great sign that he’d pulled the bracer from his own torturer, but the truth was that it had only helped him thus far, and part of him wasn’t ready to believe that his own moral center was so weak as to be shattered by a ridiculous bracer–whatever temptations it might offer.

He admitted to himself that the larger truth still came from the memory of Nicky’s last moments, and his constant wondering of what he might have been capable of doing to help her if he’d allowed himself to use the bracer freely. Finally, sitting alone in the dark of a mysterious world, lit by no less than six moons he’d managed to spot so far, he made his decision.

While his memories were blurred, and he was lost in an impossible situation, he was still somehow certain that he knew who he was inside. He wasn’t a hero, not because of some false-modesty, but simply because he knew that wasn’t the way he worked. He was someone that did what needed to be done, and had a strong sense of what that was. He wasn’t so desperate to hang onto his morality that he would have traded it for Nicky’s life, and if it was worth less than the life of someone he’d barely known, was it worth anything at all?

He recognized he was drifting into philosophy and away from the matter at hand, but he clung to the decision. He wasn’t cruel, he didn’t take pleasure in the pain of others, and he knew that deep down he fundamentally cared about doing what was right. He resolved to make sure that was enough to keep him from ever letting the bracer convince him to build his own torture chamber. But for the rest of what it might ask…he’d take it one day at a time. He would use the bracer, the spear, anything to become strong enough to make a difference in moments like he’d experienced today. He wouldn’t be helpless again.

Once committed to a path, he wouldn’t let doubt delay him. He brought the two gems to his Soul Core, one after another. Muscle was extremely uncomfortable, feeling at first like he’d run a marathon, with his whole body going limp with fatigue, followed by the equal and opposite experience of every tendon and ligament suddenly feeling tight beyond belief. Equilibrium finally settled it, and without meaning to he remembered Nicky’s laughing voice as she explained–in graphic detail–what happened if someone made the mistake of using a Muscle Fragment without Bone and Blood first. Feeling the strength now flowing through him, he realized his own muscles crushing bones and organs to nothing as they tensed would have been a certainty.

Magic had almost no internal effect beyond a light sensation of mana flowing through him more harmoniously. The true impact was felt as he let his mind drift to his chains, which immediately began to float around him, appearing weightless. Focusing on a single chain, he easily managed to command it to separate from the rest, rising up before his eyes. With barely a thought, he began to manipulate the chain. It grew thicker, then thinner again. He adjusted the shape and texture of the links, and even managed to force the entire length into a single piece of solid metal momentarily, but found the chain resisted any shape that wasn’t still distinctly a chain.

He went to a nearby copse of trees to test out the abilities he’d already been experimenting with, and confirmed that not only could he now perform each one with only his will, but they were vastly more efficient–reacting more quickly and far more powerfully. When he thought of his chains bursting forward in the piercing attack he’d used before–forming the ends into blades and hooks–he jumped back in shock as the chains literally exploded outward. He realized he’d intuitively caused a small explosion of mana to propel the chains, and the result was not only that they fired much, much more quickly, but the force caused the blades to pierce nearly through a tree as thick around as his waist.

Excited, he sent chains dancing off into the darkness, wrapping around trees, pulling and sawing, spinning and weaving, his mind soared with possibilities. His chains might be unconventional, but he found that he very much liked the idea of fighting unconventionally. The added muscle also allowed him to use the chains in whole new ways, as not only was he now many times stronger than he had been, but the completed physical transformation had left his body far more durable. After some tentative experimentation he moved on with enthusiasm, using his chains similarly to how Nicky had teased him: dozens of anchors allowing him to pull and lurch himself around violently.

He acknowledged that it wasn’t an elegant technique; he was a lot less leaf in the wind, and a lot more stuffed animal in a tug of war between a dozen dogs. He was more than satisfied though, even as he inevitably crashed into the ground, the trees, and once dangerously close to Alara’s tent. It was still just the beginning of what he could do. After several hours of experimentation, he was finally getting an idea of what might someday be considered a fighting style, and knew it was time to take the step he’d been avoiding.

Sitting down inside the tent the others had given him, he took some calming breaths, then finally looked down at his bracer.

Attention: Physical and Magical transformation detected!

Attention: You have attained the rank of Ascended Awakened!

Congratulations! Welcome to the Ancestral Path!

Attention: New functionality has been unlocked for Dalton’s Bracer of Fabulous hope! Generating interface…