《Void Walker》 Legacy of the Dead Immortality is a myth A lie we tell ourselves every day The fairy tale that promises nothing ever has to change. The one we tell ourselves every night so we can sleep peacefully. I once allowed myself that dream. A young girl full of life, enjoying the smell of spring roses even while running from every creature that was anything less than adorable. Even those abominable butterflies would cause me to flee with a giggle on my lips and flutter in my heart. My father tended to the garden, often telling me it was all that remained of my mother. How she would tend to it and nurture it. I naively believed him that doing such things kept her alive in some small way. That tending to her personal Eden held some great significance. The sentimental superstitions of a child are more durable a shelter than the largest fortress. As is the way, illness found its way to our door. Being as small as I was, it inevitably found its way to me. I spent so many days in that bed, believing even as my muscles withered from lack of use that I would be able to see her garden again. That I could tend to it and keep her flowers strong and healthy. My father kept telling me, doctor after doctor that I would be okay. That I would feel better. That I just needed to be patient. As I looked into his eyes I saw only his love, not the growing desperation in his face. Not the tears he could barely contain in my presence. I could hear him speaking to the doctors outside my door but not the death sentence they had repeated to him over and over again. Every night I fell asleep, I would look forward to when I could visit her garden once more. Even now I tell myself that these are my memories. That it was my childhood home and my own bedroom. A lie that I never died. The first memory I know to be my own was the cellar. The empty husk of my aged father, an empty scorched runic network around me. My bed and various toys scorched an seared, a scattered collection of bones resting in the center of it all. They were as dry and cold as the stone walls of the cellar. I gripped my arms in confusion and panic only to find them less yielding than I was expecting. Cold and rigid as the bones themselves. I ran out of the cellar into the rain, but I could not feel it on my skin. My only sensation was my body getting heavier with every moment. As I got to mother¡¯s garden, it had been choked out by weeds. Not a single part of her Eden remained, her memory corrupted and dead. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. My first night of life that was truly mine, I curled up in the remains of her legacy and did everything I could to will this existence into some kind of nightmare. That I would wake up in my bed, healthy and happy. As I lay there in the rain, my body gaining weight with every passing moment. It must have been hours in that storm before he arrived. The man in the cloak. He never gave his name, but to a girl recently built from stones and memory his name didn¡¯t matter. He picked up my dead weight as though it was nothing and carried me into the dry but neglected halls of my home and stayed the night by my side. When morning broke through the window of what was once our living room, he spoke softly, ¡°Many of us didn¡¯t ask to be brought into this world. Whether you are flesh or stone, flame or ice. We were brought about through an act of love and found something that binds us to this world. Your father bound himself to your care. When others abandoned that charge he broke taboos and promises to make sure you had a chance to live.¡± The man smiled at me so kindly but his eyes were like glass. No light behind them of any kind. He placed his hand on my shoulder and said, ¡°You are not what you once were, but your father kept his promise to you. You owe it to him to live the life he gave you to the full.¡± I didn¡¯t warm up to this stranger at first. I had no reason to, especially with such inhuman qualities. He informed me of my new nature and his reason for checking on our home. Enur, or Source Walkers, were once simple beings made of various elements that were made as companions and tools. Their minds and souls were defined by the runic networks that made them and were only as stable as the element that formed them. It was only when some of the Enur lived long enough to form new habits and their own memories that people realized they could do what my father did. That with the right resources and tools, they could make Enur of themselves or of those they had lost. Theoretically as enduring as life itself, a theory too tempting to those who feared death or craved power. And so it was labeled as a taboo and the knowledge buried. The practice labeled us as Ulur, Void walkers. Those who have left the void of death and returned once more to this world. And so I began my new life in my old home, resting my eyes above my own grave in the ruins of all I cherished. A World of Monsters Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. The Magician It has been nearly a decade since I first awoke, and my new body has its benefits and concerns. I do not require food, but if I travel through rivers or prolonged rain I may need to add soil to myself to keep myself together. My father had left books about runic networks everywhere in his growing madness that I was able to bring with me on my mad flight. They contained just enough information to help me keep myself stable. Over time, between soil choices and a minor change to my runic network I was able to hide my true nature and appearance from others. My hair was now carefully nutured fiberglass threads formed with great care from tree resin and heating sand into glass threads. My eyes were flawless topaz cabochons, whose prismatic appearance had garnered me more than my fair share of admirers. A steady supply of granite was easily found and with my internal supply of sand it was relatively easy to keep my exterior smooth despite my journeys. The real trick was hiding the lack of natural heat in my body. Fortunately I had found a runic heating stone at an abandoned campsite some years ago and store it in my chest to help maintain the illusion. To the outside world I am a sometimes oddly pale girl with sandy blonde hair and sparkling eyes. To the few trained in runic networks and the right equipment, I was a very well crafted statue pretending to be as alive as anyone else. Either didn''t matter to me, as long as it kept me less than a passing thought. Not needing rest, food, or water made me an excellent bounty hunter and my new form had given me an advantage over my competition due to my ability to travel through and manipulate stone to my advantage. That meant nothing to any Runic Paladins, but to the world at large I was to be feared. I often presented myself as wearing black plate mail armor to justify my hard skin and would wear a travel cloak to explain my swift tracking. The cloak was a common commodity in this age of advancement. There was a runic network designed to collect moisture from the air and fill flasks and water skins as you traveled. There was one near the fringe of the cape designed to shoot a spark to create a campfire. There were even runes that allowed the shaping of stone into a shelter for safety. I went a bit further and got the model that also had a rune that could produce a current of air designed for drying your clothes if you crossed a river or for using as a rebreather if you found yourself needing to swim to safety. Centuries such practical techniques had simply been stored in the Grand Library of Sno with no one sharing it. While useful to normal travelers for survival, I used it to keep my body dry and to create an air of deniability for any time I used my abilities as an Ulur. I could simply say I had more dedication, will, or persistence than others. Or that an area just happened to have a sinkhole or quicksand. Nothing major. Nothing Flashy. Last thing I needed was a reputation. Not with the Paladins always looking for those who violate taboo. I had no need for the normal survival goods, but I was still a woman of taste and class. I always appreciated a new gem to add to my "collection" and any runic stones I felt I could make use of were a nice utility. Some were good for lighting up darkened rooms. Others could be used to create fire or rinse something off by producing a stream of water. In the hands of a master runer you could even have stones made specifically for my job of choice. It was as I made my journey to one such storefront that I met the man who would soon become my partner in the events to come. His attire was oddly well maintained, something akin to red velvet with gold silk piping on the edges. Not a single speck of lint or dirt on his coat, which contrasted heavily with his wispy beard and greasy hair. His face carried a well practiced smile that somehow carried sincerity. His walk swayed with each step, but his boots clicked on the road in such a sure rhythm that I mistook him for a soldier. His appearance was so striking it broke my stride and drew my attention. Apparently this pause drew his attention as well, his eyes the color of the deepest seas locking with the gems I was using for mine from under the brim of his wide brimmed hat. His smile twitched into a smirk and I noticed him increase his stride. Realizing his intent to approach me, I waited for the inevitable pickup line that I was sure he was going to lay on me. Instead, he nodded his head slightly and teased, "Topaz, right? Well polished." Panic overtook my mind as I took a step back, wondering if I could break sightline with the crowd fast enough to escape him. He shook his head and offered his palm. Inspecting it, I saw burned grooves into his skin in the shape of a runic network. He laughed, "As one renegade to another, I would like to share a table with you. Just for good company, I assure you." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I had heard about people like this before. How they learned runic networks varied from person to person but they too were taboo breakers. They would use all kinds of tricks, whether it was metal wires under the skin or tattoos, they would hide various runic networks on and inside their body allowing them to keep them hidden and covert. They would often claim to have true magic. To be special or chosen by the gods. The Runic Paladins would find them and remove these symbols, wires, and whatever other trickery they were using from their body, usually through fire. While these scars still operated as runic networks, they forever marked these charlatans for what they were. They were referred to as "Magicians" to mock their claims of being truly magical. A slur that had been thrown at me when being attacked on a mission before. Unfortunate that I couldn''t return that bounty alive. I don''t know anymore why I agreed. I knew someone with this kind of style was going to draw attention. I knew that he was going to make my life more difficult. I knew that the longer I spent with him the shorter my life was going to become. But I looked into those eyes and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I saw someone who wasn''t scared of me. I saw someone who knew what I was and accepted it effortlessly. Just like the man in the cloak when I was a child. No mixed messages like the Paladins. No games. Maybe even someone who understood what my life had become. In respect for his honesty, I gave my own honest reply, "Decent conversation is rare. I have a tavern I frequent. If you draw Paladins, I will make my escape." He laughed and clapped my stone shoulder like I was an old friend, "Darling, if the Paladins arrive they will be too focused on harassing me to even glance at a beauty like you." He tapped his eye, "You would think the first time would have been enough, but some things are more important than a long life." He took off his hat and held it across his chest as he bowed dramatically and motioned me to take the lead. He was so unusual for me at the time. Someone who I couldn''t understand because all his cards were on the table, but scattered as though they had been thrown to the wind and it was my job to collect them. It was easy at the time to believe his promise of making for a good distraction from my condition. The Path to Eternity My new companion was not as arrogant as I had first assumed. It had turned out that his care for his coat and hat was entirely out of respect for an old friend of his. He told me his name was Vanier Rajzel. I had never heard a last name like his but I chose to keep my questions on it to myself for now. Listening carefully for my part, I heard him continue, "I mean, I understand that there are some scary dudes out there but not everyone is a psychopath. Can''t we let children believe in the impossible every now and again?" I couldn''t help but laugh a little. He wasn''t wrong. In the last days of my illness, that belief that I would recover was what made my smile so bright and my heart less heavy than it was now. He eventually asked, "I''m sorry. I got so caught up in my own stuff that I never asked your name. Is it too late to ask?" I shook my head slowly, "Not at all. Cathrine Baroque." Feeling some social pressure to share my story given how he had gone on, I tried with what little practice I had to explain, "I... came to this state... because my father had promised that he would cure my illness. When conventional medicine failed, he found another way to keep his word. I am not sure how thankful I am for it, but I was told by someone to make the most of the life he has given me." I tried to explain the paradox to that. I didn''t feel alive. Sensation was limited to what could be told by stone. I couldn''t taste food and I didn''t crave it. Even the need for water and hydration was limited to maintaining proper mineral balance in my body and not really about the water itself. Between this odd nature and the Paladins always on the hunt, I couldn''t even have companionship. As I tried to find my words, he summarized it as best he could, "And without someone to help you make sense of it, it can be hard You have to pull your own definition of it from nothing" I looked at him with mild surprise and nodded sheepishly, He sighed, "Yeah. I can understand that. But that''s also why I don''t regret my life. I know it sounds clich¨¦ but I really do think that it is my relationship with the people I''ve met along the way that I feel I''ve made the most of my life. I hope you can feel the same way some day. Despite your condition." He raised his glass and said, "So, hail to us renegades, finding our own way through the chaos." It was moments later that his face went cold as an armored hand forced Vanier''s drink back to the table. The markings on the gauntlet were unmistakable to me and yet when I scanned the faces of the group of Paladins that had assembled, none of them were looking at me. Not even a second glance. Either my thin illusion was holding up well or they knew what I was and didn''t care. Either way, silence was going to be my friend in this situation. The older commander spoke firmly with Vanier but from his tone, I could tell they knew each other. "That''s enough of that, Magician." Vanier smiled at the comment but the glimmer in his eyes told me that it was so he didn''t lash out at the man. "You have any new tricks to show us today? Or do I have to sear your flesh once more to find out?" The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. The crimson clad runer sneered, "You have done it so often, I can''t even feel it anymore, so you won''t get your usual enjoyment from the process." I had suspected this was true until the outraged and furious expression of the commander. Whoever this man was, he must clearly respect his job and what it represents. Either that or being openly called out on his own brutality was too much for his sense of decorum. Vanier pulled his drink hand free with annoyance and said, "I thought I had until tomorrow to rest up before you were going to waste my time with pointless posturing. Any jobs for me, Commander Rajzel?" It was here that I saw what was going on here. Vanier was the son of a Paladin and had used this knowledge to become a magician. Newly curious about my first friend in a decade, I hoped to get a better idea of how this divide came about. Perhaps even this coat was connected in some way. My mind reeled with the possibilities, and Vanier seemed to notice. The knight commander continued to ignore me, which I was thankful for. "I do, Vanier. There is rumors of a cult forming in the ruins outside of town calling themselves Eternity. We spoke with the Grand Library for any potential historical significance and it appears to have been a settlement once managed by the Kaiwa in ancient times. We don''t know what their numbers are but they are claiming to have discovered ''The Road Between;. The Grand Library didn''t know but the Lightning Sage insists that we leave it alone and that they will destroy themselves. I personally can''t go against the orders of the Sage but I do not want innocent people getting tied in with something that will only kill them." Vanier sighed, stating firmly, "It is an old runic theory, but I will look into it. The Lightning Sage might be right, but they live too long to remember the people effected." He took a deep swig of his drink and stated, "This is my friend, Cathrine. She will be joining me for this job. I feel like she could use a break from bounty hunting." I froze, unsure of what Vanier seemed to be up to. The commander looked me over with a blank expression. I felt like he was peering into my very soul but found nothing of note. It was almost hurtful. Either he didn''t know what I was and saw me as just some woman, or he did know what I was and simply not care. In either case, his gaze moved on from me swiftly and he nodded in confirmation that it was fine. Vanier tipped his hat a little and finished his drink, "Sorry for dragging you into this Cath, but I think you can make a small prize off this and I get the feeling you don''t have anything better to do today." I wanted to shoot him down. To make an excuse of some kind, simply for volunteering me for no reason, but to have an excuse to spend more time with someone who I could be honest with and share stories without concern was a nice change of pace. Not to mention that I truly didn''t have anything going on in that moment aside from my originally intended supply run. Vanier and I were not ready for what came next. If I had told my previous self what we were about to discover, I would have encouraged them to listen to the third hand advice of the Lightning Sage. They would destroy themselves. They would all die, all chasing that eternal lie we tell ourselves. The myth of immortality. Heart to Hearth As Vanier and I left the tavern, still glancing over my shoulder in case the Paladins changed their minds about destroying me, he began walking directly towards the outside of town. Given that I didn''t finish my supply run and had no idea where the ruins were, I tried to object, but he motioned me to relax, "I have tricks for living off the land and you don''t need any survival supplies. I''m sure the reward for this will be larger than your average bounty." Slightly alarmed, I addressed that immediately, "Larger than normal means higher profile than normal. I don''t need to be famous or get any attention. Last thing I need is to be in the public eye." Vanier nodded and spoke reassuringly, "That''s the odd thing. Deal with people with a high enough profile and they actually pay you more to be invisible. The most you hear about a lot of us is whispers of rumors and a lot of nicknames. Some of us inherit them from the previous owner. Either way, you are in the major leagues now. I know you will do just fine." He laughed a little at my annoyance before centering himself some. "I am sorry I didn''t ask your permission first but I figured this sounds like a quick job and we could both use the company. I imagine you don''t travel in groups for more than business?" I explained calmly, "Well, when most people think your existence is either an abomination or a legend, it is hard to find people you can drop your guard around." He nodded, as if he understood the picture. Still, I pressed, "How did you see through it? Those Paladins didn''t seem to notice the disguise. So why did you?" Vanier tapped his eye much to my annoyance, like I was supposed to know. He realized what the issue was and clarified, "I didn''t really learn my lesson after these burns on my arms. I figured that if I was already marked by the first time then it didn''t matter if it happened again. So my left eye doesn''t see so well because of it, but the runic network on it is like staring through the surface of water. It makes tricks like yours work a little less effectively, letting me get a bit of a look underneath. The Commander works with taboo breakers all the time. Says it helps him keep tabs on us if something goes wrong. The most reasonable Paladin I''ve ever crossed paths with." He walked up to me and started to look over my body. Even though I looked like I was wearing plate mail, to be examined like this almost felt intrusive. I pulled my cloak closed which seemed to annoy him slightly. He threw up his hands and muttered something about maintenance before continuing down the path. "He said it was a set of ruins just outside of town. I''ve seen the maps and the only one that matches the description is Kazdei, The Blade of Earth. Runers called it that because of the sharp incline used to make the stairs into the entrance." This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Slightly offended I stated, "I''ve done my research, you know. I have been doing maintenance on my network for years without any complications." He nodded and waved me off, much to my annoyance. I followed him down the road some and to pass the time eventually asked, "So, is the Paladin back there your father? I heard his last name and just-" He spoke coldly, "No. No, he is not. While legally we share the same last name, the man is not and will never be anything like a father to me. He helped me when I needed it one time and I keep his last name for protection and convenience. Not that I go by it much given my other title." At the time, I had not been following the tales and rumors of the land, mostly just the ones that lead to my quarry. So when he said his title, the silence that followed eventually became one of bewilderment and amusement on Vanier''s part. "Have you not heard of Red Banner before? The scourge of the open sea? Pirate of Pirates?" I shrugged, having never gone out on the open sea before. Why would I? Swimming is truly outside of possible for me these days. Why would I wish to risk sinking deep beneath the waves from which I may never escape? He sighed with a smile, "That''s it. When this is done, I''m taking you out on the Crimson Tide. You will love it." "Not going to happen. No land for miles? Out where ocean spray and endless winds can blow me away? Not a chance at all." Vanier gave a mischievous smirk and I slowly began to realize that he had now dedicated himself to convincing me of the glorious splendor of the sea. How beautiful his life on the open waves were. I didn''t know it yet, but I had just uncovered his greatest passion. More than his knowledge and manipulation of runic networks, every sentence that flowed from him about sailing and the crashing waves proving it more and more. As much as I was resistant to his charms, his endless stream of praise for the life within the sea and the life he lived upon it helped the time pass as we walked. I was so enthralled that I had hardly noticed the sun dip beneath the horizon or the amount of distance we had covered on this road in the moonlight. I kept expecting him to tire out. To grow weary or need a nap but he seemed as lively now as he had when I had seen him saunter into town. I knew he wasn''t like me. That he still had blood, muscles, and organs. That he had limitations that I could no longer feel. But in this moment, whatever tricks he was using were enough for the illusion of comradery. The comforting lie that I wasn''t alone anymore. The difference between this conversation and my mother''s garden was only that he still drew breath. That there was still the faintest hope that he would be the exception. The first time in a long time where I had allowed myself to believe things were going to be okay. The Infinite Staircase The conversation and company was such a refreshing change for me that by the time that sun broke the horizon once more, I had only just begun to realize how much time had passed. I went to apologize for keeping him up all night when Vanier muttered under his breath. I feared it was me at first, but as we stepped onto stone too smooth to be natural and too overgrown to be civilized, I realized he was trying to prepare himself for what came next. I had never felt stone like this, or at least not here. It was clearly not naturally occurring to the area at all. As I checked the terrain for some kind of entrance, I was enthralled by the runes on the walls, not all of them entirely legible and some of them were entirely foreign to me. Their meanings were elusive and unknown. Some of the runes were even host to moss, overflowing from the grooves like miniature forests untouched by human hands. As we walked among the ruins, it was hard not to get lost in the history. It was only when we came to the stairs that had formed the namesake for these ruins that I could see the first sign of wear on my new companion. They were shallow steps, but many and the angle of the stairs was steep enough that one slip would be enough to ensure you tumbled to the bottom. If I had to guess I would say it was about five hundred yards of stairs before the doorway. He seemed to be trying to figure out the best way to get up the stairs. I asked with a chuckle, "Do you want me to carry you?" He looked at me with annoyance until eventually he seemed willing to take me up on it. He motioned something odd I didn''t quite understand. "What are you asking?" He changed his arm motions again, to my confusion. It was only the third time that I realized why I didn''t know it. "You want to know if I can swim through the stone up the stairs? Yes, I''m sure I could do something similar to that. Why?" Vanier shrugged but was honest, "Because being carried up traditionally would be embarrassing for both of us but a little speedy land swim would get us up there with no risk of me breaking my neck and we could make it look more dignified for everyone involved." After some consideration, I understood his point. He was still made of meat and bone. I was made of stone and even I was worried about the damage that falling from it would cause me. I was unsure of what he wanted, so I simply lay myself on the top of the stairs face down, glancing over my shoulder for him to get on. He sat with his entire body on my lower back, my stone form hardly noticing the pressure at all, as he grabbed my hair for a handle. Cutting himself on the glass filaments I chuckled a bit and bent my right arm behind my back for him to grab onto it. After pulling out a rag to clean off the cuts on his hands, he gripped my arm hard enough for me to notice and I began to use my knowledge of the stone and earth to shift it around me as delicately as I could, trying to travel up the staircase without causing lasting damage. What could have been a harrowing climb for a decent amount of time, it was a rather brisk journey, like a fish traveling upriver. Vanier looked so nervous and uncertain, but I didn''t feel him shaking or shifting. He had put his whole trust that I would get him up safely and it was rather amazing. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. As we arrived in front of the door, he dismounted my back and I raised a pillar of earth to set me upright. I teased, "So, how did it feel to be the first man to ride me?" A simple tease with double meaning that I had collected from the taverns during my work. I thought it would be amusing to watch his swaggering demeanor vanish for even a moment. I should have known better because his retort was snappy and prepared, "So smooth that it¡¯s hard to believe I¡¯m the first.¡± While I lacked blood for a blush, I was somewhat embarrassed by how quickly he produced that retort. He looked at the entryway carefully before calmly motioning me to follow. We couldn''t have known at the time that there were no precautions. No traps or tricks. They had assumed at the time that their case was so persuasive that conversion was its own protection. And until we had arrived, that had held true. The promise of the Infinite was enough for the uneducated. As we walked down the stone tunnels in silence, Vanier kept muttering to himself, tracing his hands along the walls to trace the runes. As we finally rounded a corner and entered the antechamber, he froze as I walked into the large room. He analyzed the walls and the gathering of hundreds currently chiseling new symbols into the floor. As I moved to investigate, he seemed to be growing more and more agitated. As I tried to look at what they were carving he shouted, "What the hell do you think you are doing?!?" As his voice echoed in the halls, the residents smiled at his exclamation and as they did I recognized some of the runes. I didn''t realize it in the moment, but they had been using some of the same runes that were used to make my current form. I didn''t know it at the time, but I was seeing their attempt to climb what Vanier has come to call The Infinite Staircase. The Truth of Change I had not at that time seen Vanier so furious. He had implied that he knew what they were after before we had even left, but upon seeing the mechanism that the cult had been assembling, it was almost as if he had no idea until this moment exactly what they planned. As he briskly paced the area examining the runes and demanding to know who their leader was, I spoke softly to the woman who was chiseling closest to me. "So, I heard you guys are Eternity? The cult?" The woman laughed softly at the term and rebuked me gently, "It isn''t nice to refer to others by such crass terms. We are simply those who tire of this passing world. No one wants to die, rot away, or cease to be. But we don''t very well want to stop being ourselves either. So we put a little bit of ourselves into these runic networks and when it is finished we can be rejuvenated forever. Constantly refreshed and restored forever." It did seem tempting, but something about it seemed off. Like there were details missing. Still, I was curious, so I asked, "Infinite youth sounds great. I can see why you guys have so many members. But what do you mean by a little of yourself?" She laughed at me and explained slowly, "These runic networks will preserve our essence, namely our memories and such, and will restore our bodies. I know I''m young now, but I''ve seen what old age can do to a mind." She got back to her chiseling, waving the hammer like she was a teacher giving a lecture, "I don''t want to be like cousin Lima, kneeling in the barn and braying like a cow. No thank you, ma''am. I would rather die." As she ended her thought on that, she seemed to redouble her efforts to chisel and block me out completely. Okay, that was more about her personal life than I had ever wanted to know, but I think I understood the similarity here to the basement. It was only as I looked at the ceiling and examined those runes that I realized something odd. The crucial aspect of a runic network was the spirals. While these seemed to be similar to a normal runic network, there was something off about it. Taking more care to compare the two I realized that it was mirrored. The shape and form of the network were perfectly mirrored between the two, even the symbols almost appearing backwards. As I was watching, the leader of the group stepped into the antechamber, a flowing purple cloak billowing behind her. Vanier narrowed his eyes at her for a moment as she spoke, "We have come so far, and while we are open to all joining us in our ideal, we continue to find ourselves questioned by those who do not share our vision and ideals. They claim us mad for seeking perfect restoration. They say it is an impossible goal for the insane to seek. To demonstrate this, we must be willing to take risks. The necessary runes are in place for us to ascend into eternity. To walk the endless spiral and claim the infinite. Come, my new family. Let us all gather at our marks and ascend so we may show the world our brilliance." The all gathered together, each one standing on what I now recognized as smaller runic networks within the room spanning one. Spirals within spirals all assigned to the individual. Vanier grabbed my arm and tried to pull me out of the room. Due to my substance, he nearly pulled his arm free from his own shoulder in the process, which elicited a chuckle from me. Curious as I was, I cooperated until we were in the hallway, but refused to budge from there. This would prove to be a mistake on my part, but I couldn''t have known at the time. I watched the chamber as the tiles and bricks that formed the room began to shift, the runic network beginning to glow with energy as their internal electricity began to power it. After a few moments, the glow shifted into a dark shade of purple, the ceiling above beginning to glow red at the same time. I watched in horror as the light left everyone''s eyes and their bodies began to disintegrate into its base material, layer by layer. I was thankful that I had no stomach and that they had clearly already passed as the process was grotesque and looked like it would have been horribly painful. As this process was mostly underway, the floor began to rise to meet the ceiling, blocking the rest of the results from view. As the "Floor" returned, I saw it was now glowing red as the ceiling once was. As I looked at the runes they seemed to even be mirrored just like the ceiling once was. trying to get a better look in the room, I was horrified. While there was nothing coherently human, what was happening was plain as day even to someone like myself. As the floor produced new bodies and forms for the cult, the same way I had been born as an Ulur, the ceiling was taking it at the same rate and disintegrating them. I asked myself if they were aware. Could they feel their every atom being torn apart and being reassembled every second of existence they were having? Could they even truly experience it? Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Vanier sighed, explaining to me for the first time, "They called it the Spiral Staircase when I was in training. The idea that if you have a runic network making something from scratch at the same time you take away the old parts that you have something infinite and perpetual. Undying because it never has the chance to be effected by time and entropy. Usually, it isn''t possible because they are two forces that flow the same way. You have a runic network that pulls down and breaks down and another one that produces everything beneath it. Usually can''t connect the two and therefore the matter just perpetually is generated and thrown away with no overlap. But these crazies thought that if they allowed the runic networks to pass through each other during the process they could interconnect the two." He pulled his hat over his eyes, "They were technically correct, but I have no idea if I would call this a success. Seems like hell to me." Vanier turned to walk away, clearly content to wash his hands of all of this, but me? I couldn''t. This seemed so unnatural to me. It was people''s lives they had simply thrown away on the vain hope of living forever. Senseless and so swift was their end that my mind couldn''t accept it. Just as quick as I had arrived, I had watched hundreds die without anyone ever knowing what happened or what their case would be. I could let this run forever and see how it worked out, but an existence like the one I saw here was an abomination even if they were without pain. In my fury, I punched one of the walls, a giant stone fist coming through one of the walls of the antechamber and damaging the runic network. As it grew unstable, I threw a few more, trying to free this wad of information from this infinite sorrow. Eventually, the damage I did was so intensive that I found myself buried in the rubble of the ruins. When I eventually stepped free from the stones, Vanier was sitting at the top of the massive staircase, smoking a pipe as he waited for me. When I looked him over, I felt nothing. Not anger. Not sorrow. Not regret. My only remorse was not stopping them before they started. Not trying to break through the pretty words to the desperation they held beneath the surface. Immortality is a myth A lie we tell ourselves to desperately hold onto the perception that nothing has to change But even those of us that are timeless change The girl known as Cathrine is dead. Whether in her sickbed or here in these ruins, she is no more. The woman known as Cathrine is different than she was before today. I am different. This would not be the last time Vanier and I crossed paths, and each time we have, I have found my life changed. It will continue to change. Those who fight change will find themselves endlessly climbing a staircase to nowhere until it all comes crumbling down.