Kade followed the large man into a back room, Selina and Edwin trailing behind. Kade was surprised to find the back wall was formed by the mountain itself, with a deep purple glow emanating from it. Priest Markis walked directly to a table resting right against the stone wall, where he sat, and took out a small case. From within he produced a number of small stone figures, each modeled after a different warrior in various poses. Next he removed a number of unmodeled stones, of similar proportion but looking like little more than lumps. Lastly he removed a handful of gems, and began arranging the whole display on the table.
Kade walked closer and saw that the table had carved recesses for each of the figures, and a space for a gem in front of each. They were also connected by a shallow path to a carved space in the shape of a hand, fingers together, on the unoccupied side of the table. Markis gestured with a smile, and Kade took the seat opposite to the man, examining the small statues before him. By the time Markis finished arranging the stones to his satisfaction, Kade had a sense of what he was looking at.
The pieces closest to him were all relatively straightforward, and Kade thought he recognized most of what they depicted. First was a man with sword and shield raised, Warrior, Kade thought. Next was someone that looked much like the fallen man of fire that the Keepers had lost against the Elder, Elementalist, Kade thought sadly. They were less clear after that, but a robed figure with a staff looked like some sort of wizard, and a similarly robed figure with empty hands raised in supplication might have been a healer. The last one he thought he might recognize was a hooded figure with a single dagger in one hand, possibly indicating some kind of assassin or stealth specialist.
Beyond the first row, the small statues became more elaborate, but harder to differentiate from those at the front. The only one that caught his eye was a plainly-dressed man holding a hammer, and based on what everyone kept telling him about his abilities as a Metallurgist–the craftsman appeared a likely candidate. Beyond the second row were the collection of unformed lumps, and Kade watched them curiously, noting that Markis barely paid attention to them, compared to the rest which he reverently placed and repositioned. At last, the man spoke, still with a friendly smile.
“Welcome, Kade. It is my great honor as a Priest of Karthas to be able to help so many new Keepers find their Path. I was informed of the unusual circumstances surrounding your coming here, as well as the gaps in your memory. Know that my role is ultimately one of imparting knowledge, and I would be very happy to answer any questions you may have,” Kade’s mouth was already open when the man raised a hand to forestall him. “Perhaps I could go over the basics of the Ritual of Ancestry first?” Kade nodded, accepting the logic of the proposal. The man gave an indulgent smile while collecting his thoughts. First he gestured to the stone wall.
“This room is connected to the Great Karthas’ own power. It winds through the mountains, but is rarely so close to the surface. We require this connection to use my Legend’s power to trace out your own unique lineage, as his experience was vast, and touched many generations of Elders. We will use that same connection for your Trial, after we have learned here how to focus it on the Path you choose to follow,” he indicated the statues between them with a gesture. “These are each of the potential Paths known to us.
“As the Great One’s power touches your own, it will guide your Soul in sharing its Ancestral memory. If a gem before a statue glows, it means you have a connection to an Ancestor that used abilities we would categorize as belonging to that specific path. The color of the glow will indicate your affinity for that path, which I will interpret for you.” He gestured to the second row, and the unshaped blobs beyond, “These are rarer Paths, some of which require a degree of mastery in one or more of the common Paths before your body can handle the strain of their vast powers. Others are simply so rare that they don’t justify a better seat.” He laughed quietly to himself, then coughed slightly when he realized he was the only one.
“As I was saying,” the priest continued, trying to find the same level of seriousness he’d begun with, “some of these paths are simply more rare. I’ve been made to understand that you possess a Soul Manifestation that utilizes metallurgy?” Kade nodded, staring at the statues in fascination. Ever since he’d been told about metallurgy, and how it was viewed by society, he’d spent an enormous amount of time thinking about how he could change that perspective. Markis continued, “A true rarity, though I’ve met my fair share. The others,” he indicated the unformed stones, “are effectively placeholders. Occasionally someone will have a connection to a Path so rare that we’ve never encountered it before.”
Kade couldn’t hide his fascination at that, and jumped in with a question, “Have you seen that before? Can people still choose one of these…mystery Paths?” Markis smiled knowingly, as this was likely a question he heard often.
“That is a complicated question, but hardly an unexpected one. First you must understand that the Great Karthas cannot place you on any path he himself is not connected to–though he is connected to many, even those we know nothing about. Next you must understand that even if he could place you on one of the rarer paths, there are many disadvantages.” The priest leaned back, considering how to proceed.
“I suppose you need to understand the so-called common Paths first. Everything we know of them comes from the experience of those Keepers who have taken these paths in the ages since their discovery. The abilities these Paths can inherit, the thresholds at which they allow one to Ascend to the next step, and the requirements of the so-called greater Paths one must reach before their Trial can be undertaken,” he gestured to the statue in front of the Warrior, which was a heavily armored knight with a weapon in either hand. “For instance, the Battlemaster can only be undertaken by one who has achieved Secundus as a Warrior.
“All this is to say that when someone does have any level of affinity for an unknown Path, there is great risk involved. We cannot even guarantee that the Trial we create will be possible to complete, given we don’t know if there are requirements to prepare the Soul for an unknown Path. Even if the Trial is a success, there is no one who can guide or train the Keeper in their new abilities, and certainly not help them to find an optimal Path.” Kade looked up, questioningly.
“Optimal Path? I don’t think anyone’s mentioned that before.” The priest nodded.
“It’s likely what the name suggests, though I’ve been warned your bracer is still struggling with some translations. You are aware that there are many abilities tied to a Path? We are also severely limited in how many of those abilities we can imprint on our Soul. As such, it’s highly valuable to find a mentor who can help guide your soul toward specific abilities–once you’ve been placed on your Path, that is.”
“I think I need to understand what I’d be coming out of my Trial with to really grasp what you’re saying,” Kade interjected, and the priest was nodding even before Kade finished speaking.
“Of course, allow me to clarify. For example, should you have sufficient affinity for the Metallurgist path, you will undergo a Trial that unlocks that potential in your Soul Core. When you exit the Trial, you will be a Metallurgist in truth, meaning your Soul will be committed to that Path, no turning back. You will also receive one or two abilities–typically of the more common variety–that will allow you to hone your skills on that Path. As your power grows, you will gain access to more Path Abilities, and it is those that can be influenced by a mentor.”
Kade nodded in understanding, still considering the many tiny statues before him. “So I’m probably going to need to find a Metallurgist willing to mentor me, and that person will be able to help me…choose the right ones? I don’t think I understand how to acquire new abilities.”
“There are several methods, and natural growth is the most common. One day you may be at a threshold of power you’re not even aware of, and suddenly know intuitively that you’re capable of something new. Keepers have also been known to gain new abilities when interacting closely with compatible Elders. Both of these methods can be influenced by training with a mentor. If you somehow manage to find a willing mentor who has achieved Quartus or Finalis, they can even impart the abilities themselves, but I wouldn’t count on it.”
Kade was silent for some time, trying to take it all in. When Markis at last prompted him for further questions, he blurted out the first one he could think of. “What the hell is an Ancestor? I thought it was obvious, but I have to be wrong. Is Karthas everyone’s Ancestor? We’re all Children of Korthos, right? Was Karthas his dad or something?” Markis’s jaw dropped, and he looked to Selina and Edwin in shock. Selina appeared contemplative, and Edwin just nodded in encouragement.
Markis shook his head in disbelief, then collected himself. “I am sorry, Child. I merely underestimated the extent of your memory loss. I anticipated many questions but…well not those normally taught to small children, not those that are the very fundamentals on which our society is built. To not even understand the glory of–”
“Brother Markis,” Selina’s voice broke in, barely above a whisper, but with authority that made Kade jump slightly. “Decorum, if you will,” she said simply. The priest’s pale white skin blushed surprisingly red as he collected himself.
“I beg that you forgive my outburst, I pride myself as being a teacher, and yet I sometimes view ignorance as an affront. It is a terrible failing, and I will not allow it to surface again.” He leaned back in his chair, pulled off the hood of his robes, and ran his fingers through his deep-red hair. Finally he returned his gaze to Kade, and his friendly smile had returned. “I will teach you as I was taught, so please forgive any oversimplifications, these concepts are the building blocks of our understanding of the world, and not usually something that adults must learn for the first time.
“First you must know that Iros is as alive as you or I–infinitely more so, in fact. We are all mere manifestations of our world’s power, not entirely unlike our own Soul Manifestations. You must accept this to understand much of what is possible,” he paused for a moment, staring at Kade’s belt before getting remarkably excited. “Your chains! This is perfect, I never would have thought of chains for this, and then here you are,” Kade gave the man an odd look, deciding that he liked the priest, despite his inconstant nature.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“I was told about your chains–there’s hundreds or thousands of them, correct?” Kade nodded, still surprised at the man’s sudden enthusiasm. “But they’re all connected, correct? Both to you, and I suspect to one another? And they have links!” He actually clapped with excitement, before continuing. “You may want to consider being a teaching aid, as this is surprisingly helpful.” Selina gave the man another disapproving look, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “As I was saying. Imagine you were a link at the end of one of your chains, and yes, each link above you would be considered a direct Ancestor, leading all the way back to your Soul–or the Origin if we were again speaking of Iros directly.”
Markis raised a finger triumphantly into the air, “But each chain, regardless of how far it may be from the first, and from you–the most distant link–is still connected through the Origin! This concept, this connection, is how much of our world functions. We often refer to it as a shared memory, and it’s responsible for numerous fascinating phenomena. Artifacts–if you’ve heard of them–can be destroyed or lost, but reappear somewhere else–a completely different chain, simply by utilizing that connection. Well, anything but simply, but you take my meaning,” he was now smiling broadly, and appeared to be waiting for Kade to speak.
“Okay, I think I can grasp the basics of the concept you’re trying to get across, but can you apply it to my original question?” Markis was momentarily baffled as he struggled to remember how the discussion had started, but then his enthusiasm returned.
“Ancestors! Oh, right, the blasphemy. No, Korthos' father was not Karthas. Part of my shock came from the suggestion, as they were well-known enemies,” he paused thoughtfully, then spoke almost to himself. “Though I suppose that would still be very true if they were father and son…but I digress. To understand this might strain our chain metaphor slightly…” he twirled a hand in the air as he tried to find a way to explain. “The best way I could describe it would be if two of your chains were intertwined. They would still be separate, though more connected than just through the Origin. It’s this bond that we most often utilize to find one’s Ancestral Path.” Kade found he needed to put it into his own words to make sure he was following.
“So if I’m getting this even half-right, you’re saying that I may have an Ancestor who isn’t Karthas, but may have bumped into him, or his own Ancestors at some point. And the Trial is about asking Karthas to connect me to that Ancestor?” Markis made an odd face as he tried to follow Kade’s interpretation, then slowly began to nod.
“You have the generalities, but the reality is far more complex. It’s never one or two chains, it’s countless chains, all braided and woven together since the beginning of Iros. We’re more likely to find an Ancestor of yours killed–or was killed–by an Ancestor of someone who was killed by Karthas–or his own Ancestors...I could barely get through that sentence. Do I need a chart? My classroom had a chart for this I think, but that was two-hundred-fifty-seven years ago…” Kade raised a hand to forestall the man before he left for a chart.
“I think I get it, though it makes the term Children of Korthos a lot more confusing; is the name more symbolic than I realized?” Markis suddenly looked a great deal more serious, and when he spoke again there was forceful passion in his voice.
“You’ve stumbled on the greatest philosophical question of our age, my young friend. The truth is that we simply don’t know! The Calm changed everything in our world, including how we are born into it–of that we’re certain. In the past, a Child of Karthas would have been an actual blood-relation, though how the creation was possible given the nature of familial relationships amongst Elders is part of the great mystery,” he glanced at Seline, confirming he was once more getting off track, and tried to refocus.
“What I can say now–with certainty–is that while we may call ourselves Children of Korthos, our bloodlines tell a very different story.”
Kade nodded slowly, knowing he’d be spending a long time considering this, and hopefully consulting with this very odd priest again under different circumstances. He’d had several people tell him to find a scholar already, and he knew that he just had. “Alright, then how does this all apply to the ritual, and affinities?” Markis nodded furiously, seeming grateful to be back on track.
“As I said previously, the Great Karthas will allow us to find the many intersections that must exist between yourself, and any potential Ancestor–direct, or connected through the chains as it were. The more distant the connection, the weaker your affinity will be. Too distant a connection and you won’t be able to walk the Path at all–there simply won’t be enough memory in the connection for you to draw from. Conversely, direct Ancestors will have higher affinity, and those will be the best choice.”
“What does affinity actually do though? If I can choose between two paths, and one has the higher affinity, is it always better to take it?”
“Not exactly,” the priest replied. “You will progress more quickly the higher your affinity with a given Path, but if the relative difference in affinities isn’t too great–say the distinction between an [A] and [B]--,” Kade quickly glanced at his bracer, confirming it was a simple grading system, “--then very few would let such a minimal difference decide the Path they’ll hope to walk for lifetimes. Many Keepers have even chosen C ranked Paths quite happily, trading slightly slower Progress for the life they truly desire.”
Kade knew his need to see his potential Paths was quickly outpacing his patience for questions, but he had to ask one more, “Does anyone ever choose an unknown Path? Maybe if their affinity leaves it as the only option?” Markis nodded, seriously.
“Some do choose unknown Paths, though affinity rarely has much to do with the decision. Rather, doing so is considered a great sacrifice in the pursuit of knowledge, and the advancement of our society. An unknown Path ceases to be unknown as soon as someone chooses it, and that is of unparalleled value. That said though,” he cautioned in a serious tone, “I have never heard of that choice being someone’s first Path, as it would present endless challenges–not the least of which being their unreliability as a Keeper with limited, unknown powers.”
Kade nodded in understanding, able to restrain his curiosity no longer. “Okay, anything else can wait until later. I’m ready.” Markis nodded happily, then reached forward and slapped Kade on the shoulder in a surprisingly jovial way.
“I wish you all the luck in the world, my friend. I’m sure you’ll find your Path,” he sat back and gestured at the hand-shape in front of Kade. “Now, simply place one hand on the table, and the other on the wall–that will allow you to connect to Karthas’ power. Don’t worry, there’s no pain, though it will be an experience to remember. Shall we begin?” At Kade’s nod, Markis smiled, then placed his own hand on the wall, and began to concentrate. A moment passed with nothing happening, and then suddenly Kade felt as if his Soul were being flooded with a foreign power, and he was somewhere else.
***
Kade’s consciousness seemed to be everywhere at once. He felt his Soul being pulled forcibly as if upriver, the current an endless series of lives, each caught in a horrific cycle of pain and death. As sensation suddenly reversed, and he felt himself being pulled back toward his body, the lives he passed through began to rush into him.
He was a master of his generation, looking down at his kingdom from above the clouds, and all bowed before him. He was less than a slave, being pulled from the dark pit which was all he knew, to be devoured piece by piece by a creature that never bothered to look at him. He was one warrior in legions, fighting a single battle that lasted years. He was a general, bringing glory to his master’s name, waiting for his moment to kill the worthless fool.
The memories tore through him then disappeared, leaving only vague impressions of each life. He saw the beginning of Iros. He saw the sun dying. He spit in Kronos’ face. He was crushed beneath Kronos’ heel. He invaded other worlds. He saw Iros invaded in turn. He felt himself die, Altera smiling down at him as she tore into his Soul. He saw a thousand Elders die by his hands, and experienced a thousand more deaths of his own. Each time the memory faded, but left with it a slightly greater understanding of what Iros was. Iros was the Cycle. Iros was life and death, the new ever conquering the old, going on ceaselessly, through endless generations.
Over and over he experienced the Cycle, saw children killing parents, felt himself snuff the life out of his own progeny, the desperate need to destroy and survive the only thing they all shared. It kept happening, he knew it could never stop, knew Iros would never let it stop. But then everything slowed. He felt countless lives pass, but no new generation came. Something was new, something was different. And he heard words. Whispered words across millions of years, that slowly turned into screams, and finally into defiance.
…not again…won’t let this happen…it’s enough…I refuse…I’ll sacrifice myself…I’m done with the killing!
The words continued, echoing through generations as Kade felt his Soul falling back toward his body, toward the present. But then it got stuck, and he was in a dark room, where four men stood around something he couldn’t see. The figures were indistinct, and details seemed to shift in and out of focus. But he could hear them, and he knew their words were dangerous.
“The Cycle must end,” said one who was blocked from Kade’s sight. The voice was quiet, but heavy with command.
“So we finally say it aloud,” replied another, the tallest of the group.
“You speak blasphemy,” a deep voice rumbled from opposite the tall man.
“He speaks our hearts, brother, even yours,” said the final man, whose back was to Kade, “Tell me I’m wrong.”
After a long pause, the deep voice finally replied, “I won’t taint this sacred place with lies, but we must accept what we are saying for what it truly is.”
“If your Gods take issue with my will, brother, let them appear before me,” challenged the first voice, and Kade sensed that somehow it wasn’t hyperbole.
“My Gods are not so foolish, brother,” replied the deep voice, surprisingly unbothered by the threat. “But if we challenge them, there will be consequences.”
“They are not the Cycle–whatever they would have us believe–they are as trapped by it as we,” the tall man spoke.
“Is this more than academic?” asked the man facing away from Kade. “Every Child of Iros has lamented the Cycle, even if only as they fell victim to it. What’s changed?” There was a brief pause as the tall man stared at the unseen one, then finally spoke.
“Everything has changed. I’ve found the Lost Artifact; it’s returned. We–” he paused suddenly, and all four men began to look around hurriedly. Finally the tall man spoke again, “We are not alone.”
Kade felt shock tear through him as four, blurry faces suddenly turned on him in unison, and he had a brief impression of golden armor before he felt a final tug on his Soul, and he was suddenly back in his own body, staring at a perplexed Markis.
“Well,” the large priest said, “that went remarkably wrong.”