《In the Wake of the Amnesia Bomb (Epic Progression Fantasy)》


 Rage of the Heavens

    <blockquote>[First Era (War Year 3)]</blockquote>


    The moment he released the bowstring he finally heard the sound he''d been waiting for. It had started as a harmless idea, a way of training his entanglements and timing together as they searched for the hidden temple. How could he have known what it would bring? Sure there were the clues. Well, the first clue had been easy to ignore, but the second, not exactly.


    Moraithe stood on the precipice, the thin veil of mist curling around his feet like a phantom''s breath. The world felt hollow. The winds that should have carried the scent of distant flowers instead brought only the acrid tang of smoke and ruin. The air crackled, not with power, but with the weight of loss. The kind of loss that gnawed at the edges of the soul, leaving only shadow in its wake.


    The sky above was bruised with storm clouds, and the air hummed with something he couldn''t name, something wrong, dark¡ªunnatural, like the very fabric of reality was tearing itself apart. A tremor of dread rippled through him, his heart pounding, as if the land itself whispered in warning. That feeling was the first clue.


    Norgoth strode beside him. A brooding presence as dark as the longbow he held. With raven-black hair falling over sharp, piercing eyes.


    Moraithe glanced back to Saffrael, still stunned by her ethereal beauty which contrasted with the rugged lands they traversed. The sight of her unfathomable sapphire eyes, like drinking the depth of eternity, made his breath catch in his throat.


    He turned back to the path to find a new target. Moraithe had been practicing the strike again for the thousandth time. He was always too late or too early. The trick was to trigger the entanglement at the exact moment the shot was to land. Entangling the mass of the entire boulder he''d marked with a runic key some leagues back. Entanglement didn''t care if the object of an entanglement lay across the glade or across the galaxy. It worked the same in either case. A simple mass entanglement like this would share the mass between the two objects, namely his arrow and the boulder.


    He had already laid a runic key on each of the arrows. Now all he had to do was perform the entanglement. A touch of blood, draw, loose, now entangle. The arrow hit the branch he had targeted and blasted through it with a force he could only have dreamed of, blowing the branch clean off.


    It was the sound that did it. Suddenly a strange chittering and wheezing echoed through the woods. Then, from beneath the shadowed canopy of the bunchknot trees, something emerged. A dark inhuman thing shambling through the woods.


    "What is that?" Moraithe wondered aloud.


    "It''s a scout," Norgoth whispered, ducking behind a bush, "one of the Severed."


    Saffrael snatched a sword out of seemingly nowhere. "Then the war has come to this world as well."


    Grabbing another arrow Moraithe nocked, sighted, and loosed. He tried to entangle just as before. The arrow struck the creature¡ªthen, inexplicably, tore itself free and dropped to the ground, leaving the creature angrily pawing the ground for a charge.


    "You were too late again," Norgoth observed.


    "Why can''t I get the timing on this?"


    Norgoth took one of his own arrows sighted and just as the scout was building up momentum he blasted a hole right through the creature. It tumbled and fell screaming, a strange scream that seemed to call to the skies themselves.


    They waited for an answering call, but all was silent.


    "Lucky it was alone. We''d best get away from here."


    Saffrael''s sword disappeared somewhere, and just as mysteriously out came a map. "We have to find that temple¡ªbefore more of them show up."


    The wind whipped through the tall grass, and the storm clouds above them grew darker by the minute. Moraithe''s frustration was palpable, his eyes darting over the endless expanse of land. He couldn''t shake the feeling that they were so close, yet it felt like the temple was taunting them, just beyond their reach. He pulled out another arrow and prepared for yet another attempt at the entanglement.


    The wonder of the temple was not anything inside it, rather that it was a permanent entanglement. Those were rare. Few people, quite few indeed knew the technique to make an entanglement last beyond the moment of concentration. To find such a structure, to study it. They hoped to be able to unravel this great secret and catapult their power to heights few had ever reached. If things went as he hoped he would soon go from being no one, among the weakest of all souls, to becoming a power few could compare. Then he might finally amount to something in this war.


    "How long are we going to keep this up?" he muttered, loosing his arrow once again. But this time he triggered the entanglement too early and it dropped off course. He cursed. "It''s here, right? Somewhere in all these trees."


    Saffrael, trailing behind them, glanced up from an old journal she''d somehow replaced the map with. She had that distant, focused look that meant she was processing something¡ªsomething he wasn''t quite seeing yet. She spoke in her usual calm, controlled tone. "It''s not just here, Moraithe. It exists¡ªbut not in the way you think. You''ve been looking for it all wrong."


    He stopped, his boots crunching against the dry ground, and glared at her. "What do you mean? The temple''s not exactly hiding itself."


    Saffrael, walking a few paces ahead, didn''t look up from the journal in her hands. "It''s not hiding. It''s in a revenescent." Her voice was soft but confident.


    Moraithe stopped mid-step. "A what?"


    "Revenescent," Saffrael repeated, as if it explained everything.


    Norgoth kicked a small rock down the path. "Great. Now we''re chasing a temple that''s in some magic pocket dimension. Just what I needed to hear."


    Saffrael ignored Norgoth, her gaze still fixed ahead, the journal clenched tightly in her hands. "It''s not just in a pocket dimension. It''s in a revenescent¡ªbut only its physical form came through. The walls, the floors¡ªthey exist here, but their properties don''t."


    Moraithe furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of it. "Wait... so the temple''s here, but it''s not here?"


    "Exactly," Saffrael said, now turning to him with a hint of frustration in her voice. "The physical structure is here, yes. But it''s not fully in this world. You can touch it, you can feel it, but you can''t interact with it the way you should be able to. It''s solid, but it''s not."


    "Like an illusion?" Moraithe asked, his tone bitter, trying to grasp the idea.


    "No," Saffrael flipped a page in the journal. "It''s not an illusion. The walls are real. They just don''t behave like they should. They''re like... remnants. Fragments of something that crossed over but didn''t come all the way through. It''s physically there, but entangled across into this space."


    Norgoth chuckled, shaking his head. "So we''re chasing a solid ghost temple? Great."


    Moraithe stopped pacing for a moment, staring at the storm clouds above them. It made sense in a way, but it was maddening. The temple was right there, but it was like trying to grab fog. "So, we can''t touch it like a normal temple. But how do we find it then?"


    Saffrael snapped the journal shut, looking at them with quiet certainty. "Debris."


    "Debris?" Moraithe echoed, his voice full of confusion.


    Saffrael nodded, her gaze hardening as she looked at the landscape around them. "The journal says this kind of entanglement sometimes leaves behind traces, as if the temple didn''t come through perfectly. Some pieces¡ªfragments¡ªslipped out. They don''t belong in this world. Those are the clues. The debris."


    Norgoth raised an eyebrow, looking between Moraithe and Saffrael. "So we''re hunting down some magical junk? Pieces of the temple?"


    Saffrael didn''t hesitate. "Exactly. Things that don''t belong. They''re anomalies¡ªfloating, out of place. Pieces of the temple that didn''t fully cross over."


    Moraithe''s mind was racing now, slowly beginning to piece it all together. "So we don''t just walk up to it. We track the debris. We find the floating junk, and that''s how we know where the temple really is."


    Saffrael''s eyes sharpened. "Yes. The temple isn''t going to give itself away. But the debris will."


    Norgoth shrugged, but there was something more serious behind his grin. "Not my first choice for tracking down an ancient temple, but I''m listening."


    Moraithe glanced at the storm clouds above, a sense of clarity slowly settling over him. They weren''t chasing the temple¡ªit was more like they were following the trail it left behind. "Right. Floating debris. That''s the key. Stay sharp, and keep an eye out for anything that doesn''t belong."


    Saffrael nodded, her focus already shifting as she scanned the horizon. "The pieces are out there. We just have to find them."


    "And then we''ll master an entanglement so rare it''s only spoken of in legend and song."


    The group fell into silence, each of them focused on the task at hand. The storm clouds continued to roll in, and the world felt heavier, as though it were holding its breath. With their plan clear, they moved forward, no longer just wandering through the land. Now, they were hunters, tracking the temple by the pieces it left behind.


    And somewhere ahead, hidden in the storm, the temple waited for them.


    A vine somehow floated in the distance before them. ¡°Look. This must be it.¡± They rushed toward the floating debris, excitement boiling.


    A roar shattered the tense silence. It came from the distance, deep and guttural, a sound vibrating through his bones, so primal it shook the very core of the earth beneath him. The tension in the air thickened with an oppressive heat, and his breath quickened as his eyes scanned the horizon.


    He''d hoped they would have more time, but it seemed the war would not wait. The war that he and Norgoth had started by breaking Throm''tor''s throne to rescue Saffrael.


    Like black fire falling to the earth, the Severed impacted trees and earth, a grotesque wave of writhing shapes that had once been human. Their bodies twisted unnaturally, crawling forward in a mass of venomous hunger, monstrous forms writhing like ink-black shadows. The leader was a hulking silhouette, tall and terrible, his form cloaked in an aura of shadows and black fire.


    With a single motion, the leader raised his hand, and the first bolt of anger shot out¡ªa streak of searing white that flashed across the sky, jagged and violent, like lightning splitting the heavens. It crackled and burned, as it tore through the air with the force of a thousand storms. Then it slammed into the ground shattering stone with a deafening blast that sent waves of burning heat toward them, scorching the air.


    Moraithe felt it hit him then¡ªa direct blow to his chest, as though a fist had punched through his ribs. The sensation was jagged, like a blade scraping across his heart. A fury so hot it felt like his very soul might burn away beneath it. His skin prickled with the heat, his thoughts disintegrating beneath its ferocity. And yet¡ªbeneath the unbearable pressure, something deep within him flared to life.


    A warmth surged within him, like sunlight pouring through a cracked window. A soft pulse of peace that pushed back against the fury, like a candle struggling to hold the night at bay. Gratitude. That was what it felt like, he realized with a sudden shock.


    He stumbled back, blinking, confused. It wasn''t his doing¡ªhe hadn''t conjured it, hadn''t asked for it¡ªbut it was there, deep within him. A wellspring, endless and constant, that shielded him from the attack. He was protected. Untouched.


    The fires of anger struck him but didn''t burn. A scorching blast of light turned into harmless sparks as the force of gratitude pushed it away, like a wave crashing against a cliff, breaking into foam.


    Then Moraithe saw his friends writhing upon the ground. They were caught in the same barrage of anger, crumbling beneath the weight of it, their movements faltering, their clothes and hair smoldering. Their faces were tight with effort, their hands trembling as they fought to defend themselves.


    The Severed approached, the darkness in their eyes spreading outward like an infection. Moraithe ran between them to protect his friends, giving them a moment of respite to regain their feet.


    "Everyone jump on my call," Saffrael called, "Now!" And they all jumped. While in the air a stone house appeared to surround and protect them. As their jump concluded they all landed on an expertly cut stone floor.


    Norgoth spluttered. ¡°You had a house in your revenescent this whole time?¡±


    But the Severed were immediately hacking and burning through the door and tearing off the shutters. One of the Severed had been stuck inside the wall when it had emerged, the trapped body shuddered and moved no more. The walls gave them a chance to regroup and put their backs against something solid.


    Though the searing heat of the attacks had receded beneath Moraithe''s shield, something else now crawled at the edges of his consciousness¡ªa coldness, like fingers of ice reaching into his mind.


    Fear.


    It wasn''t like the anger. The fear didn''t strike with the force of a storm, it crept in, cold and suffocating. It warped reality, bending the world until it felt alien, twisted. His vision darkened at the edges, and the ground beneath him seemed to waver, as though it might swallow him whole. His breath hitched, his pulse quickened, and just as the first tendrils of dread crept up his spine, something shifted.


    The stench of rot filled his nostrils. His hands were dripping with blood¡ªhis own? No, no. It didn''t matter. The stone shifted beneath his feet like it was made of soft earth, threatening to swallow him whole. His stomach lurched. He could feel the cold, wet breath of something breathing on the back of his neck, the sounds of scraping nails against stone.


    The world bent and shifted. The ceiling was alive, the knots in the wood swirling with movement, each one formed into a grotesque face, whispering in a thousand voices. His limbs went numb, his knees buckling, and he fell to the ground, unable to stand. His heart hammered in his chest as the world continued to twist around him, and all he could do was gasp for breath, his mind struggling to hold onto itself.


    Through the suffocating haze of terror, he heard it¡ªscreaming.


    "It burns! Please, help us!" Norgoth''s voice, raw with panic, shattered the hallucinations for a moment, but only for a moment. His words slipped back into the nightmare''s grip.


    Norgoth screamed, his voice strangled as his flesh stripped away in blackened cords of ash.


    "Norgoth!" It was Saffrael this time, her voice strained, desperate. "No! Please! Help!"


    Moraithe could barely focus on their voices. The fear was too much. It wrapped around him, crushed him, paralyzed him. But through the haze, through the pain, he could feel them, fighting, struggling against the flames of anger the Severed wielded.


    And then, a thought pierced through the fog, quiet but certain. He could help them.


    Gratitude. The warmth, that strange, constant pulse within him. It hadn''t failed him in the face of anger. Maybe, just maybe, it could help them fight back. It couldn''t shield them from fear, not any more than it had him. But it could protect them from one thing¡ªthe burning anger that had the power to turn them to ash.


    With what strength he could muster, Moraithe reached deep. His chest tightened as he focused on that warmth, that strange, endless well of gratitude he couldn''t fully understand. It pulsed inside him like the steady beat of a heart, like the rise and fall of breath. He couldn''t move. He couldn''t fight the fear that clutched at him like chains. But this¡ªhe could do this.


    The gratitude spread.


    A soft, golden light erupted from him, flooding the air around him like sunlight bursting through fissures in a storm, wrapping around his friends like a protective cocoon. The light pulsed, steady and unyielding, like the calm in the eye of a storm. It was shielding them¡ªnot from fear, but from the flames of anger that threatened to consume them.


    Norgoth gasped as the shield wrapped around him, his shaking hands steadied. Saffrael''s wide eyes flickered, down to Norgoth as his flesh was slowly restored. Her expression softened, the tension melting from her shoulders as the searing heat of the anger faded.


    The Severed lunged, their twisted faces contorted with hunger and rage. The nearest ones hit an unseen barrier, flung backward as if struck by an invisible hand. They snarled and staggered, confusion flickering across their grotesque features. The Severed paused. Their fury had no place to go. The shield was too strong, too constant. Moraithe felt their rage shattering against it, turning into harmless sparks. The anger could no longer burn them or break them.


    Gratitude. It countered anger as one of the four great powers¡ªgratitude, anger, self-assurance, and fear¡ªsomehow they had been entangled across all of the universe, becoming magics in their own right. But gratitude was the greatest of all, for it could be traded for goods and services. It was their currency, for it could both shield and heal. When others feel gratitude for you, this natural currency forms inside your soul. He didn''t remember earning any particular wealth of gratitude, so where had it all come from?


    His gratitude now shielded them from the searing wrath of the Severed. And though fear still gnawed at their minds, they could fight. In fact, the power of his gratitude was rapidly healing their scorched flesh.


    But Moraithe''s own vision was still warped, still twisted. His mind reeled with images¡ªbodies rising from the earth, twisted faces leering at him, the sound of cracking bones. The fear was still there, eating away at him. But he held on, focusing on them. The shield around them was strong, stronger than he ever thought possible.


    He couldn''t move. He couldn''t escape the cold grip of fear that still clutched his chest. But they were protected. The fear hadn''t taken hold of them, for they had enough self-assurance to resist it. Their self-assurance stood as a bulwark against fear as surely as his gratitude had against the bolts of anger.


    Moraithe realized, with a strange clarity, that maybe that was enough. Even paralyzed by terror, he had done something. He had protected them.


    Even if he could do nothing for himself, his friends might survive this. And they could fight back.


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    The Severed roared in frustration, their power shattered by the protection he had given his friends. They couldn''t destroy them. Not now.


    And Moraithe, though still trapped in the icy grip of fear, held onto that one, fragile hope.


    The world was still burning. The fear still whispered in his ear. But for the first time, he knew that even in these darkest of moments, he could help them survive.


    A distant bellow of horns echoed across the battlefield, a sound that froze the air. It was a rallying cry, a signal to retreat, to regroup. But it was also a challenge to the Severed, daring them to come forth. The invaders¡ªthose twisted horrors¡ªwere pulling back, regrouping as well. But Moraithe, Norgoth, and Saffrael had no such luxury. The battle had been long and fierce, and now the enemy was closing in again, relentless in their assault.


    "We need to find somewhere safe. I think that call came from the great fortress on the downs. They say its lord can entangle himself with the entire structure."


    "An entire fortress?" Norgoth scoffed, and fired an entangled arrow, blowing apart one of their attackers. "And they expect us to believe that?"


    Saffrael threw spear after spear, grabbing each from her revenescent. "I say it''s our best bet."


    Norgoth nocked another arrow and held it between the fingers that clutched his bow. "Better than here I guess."


    "I''m going to pack up the house. Be ready to move."


    Moraithe tried to stagger to his feet, feeling his legs buckling under him, the fear, paralysis, and strain of holding the protective shield almost too much to bear. The shield held firm, but he felt a creeping numbness in his limbs. His vision was blurred, his mind frayed. Horrific hallucinations still bled into his thoughts¡ªtwisting shadows, strange faces, figures he had never seen before.


    "Norgoth," he gasped, barely able to form words, "I¡ªI can''t¡ª"


    But Norgoth was already there, his face grim, his jaw clenched. "Hang on, Moraithe. We''re getting out of here. Just stay with me."


    Without hesitation, Norgoth hoisted Moraithe onto his back, his strength like an unyielding mountain, unwavering even as the Severed pressed closer. Saffrael put the house away in her revenescent and moved to keep pace beside them, her sword drawn, a fierce protector even in the face of overwhelming odds. The shield was now their only bulwark against the oncoming tide of shadowy foes.


    "Move!" Saffrael cried, and Norgoth surged forward, his legs pumping as they sprinted for the long distant fortress, their only hope.


    Now, seeing the fortress, that speck in the distance, he wondered how they had even heard the blast of the trumpet''s call. It must have been entangled with bellows of such ferocity that the sound could travel a dozen miles.


    On and on they ran, Moraithe struggling with the hallucinations and pouring all his focus into keeping the shield over his friends as the bolts kept raining down upon them. His friend''s breaths came in ragged gasps as they struggled to keep ahead of the Severed, from being blocked in by them. There was safety in the fortress, or so they trusted¡ªif only they could make it.


    The eerie howl of the Severed echoed around them, but Moraithe, despite his paralyzing fatigue and wavering consciousness, pressed on, his will alone holding the shield intact around the trio. He could barely focus; his vision swam with mad images¡ªtwisted faces, contorted limbs reaching from the edges of reality, their mouths whispering horrors he couldn''t fully comprehend.


    Moraithe¡¯s shield flickered, its golden light wavering like a dying ember.


    "We must be getting close," Saffrael''s voice broke through the haze, though it sounded distant and muffled, like underwater. She reached out to hold Norgoth steady, then glanced at Moraithe with concern, the heavy weight of battle having worn them all thin.


    Moraithe gritted his teeth and dug deep into his remaining strength, desperate to keep the barrier up. It was not his well of gratitude that was running dry, never that, but his strength to project it over his friends. The shadows clawed at it, eager to break through, but each time they got too close, a surge of energy would send them reeling back. The shield was his, but so was the strain it caused him¡ªeach pulse of energy to sustain it made his limbs feel heavier, colder. The paralysis in his legs spread higher, inching up to his chest, but he held firm.


    Finally, they crested a hill and found the fortress looming ahead, an imposing structure on the horizon. Moraithe could barely hold his eyes open, his mind slipping further into delirium. But he knew they had to reach it. It was their only chance.


    They crossed the barren land, the ground beneath them cracked and scarred by battle, the sky dark with smoke and ash.


    "Moraithe," Norgoth grunted, half-turning to face him. His voice was strained, but there was something in his eyes, a desperate plea for something more than just survival. "We can''t keep this up much longer. You''re bleeding energy¡ªhow much longer can you keep this going?"


    Moraithe didn''t answer immediately. The shadows seemed to swirl around him, their phantasms growing in number as if his mind were giving way to the madness of such horrors. The hallucinations were becoming more vivid. Faces of his friends¡ªnow twisted and distorted¡ªemerged from the darkness, their features dissolving like smoke as they screamed his name.


    "You''ve got to keep it together," Saffrael urged. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the fog of his mind like a knife. "The fortress is right ahead¡ªjust a little more! Don''t let go now!"


    Her voice seemed to echo from a distant shore. The world around him was warping. Was this reality? Or just another dream, another nightmare? How could he know if any of this was real?


    And then, through the chaos of his mind, he saw it¡ªthe fortress, its looming spires cutting through the twilight sky. It was a massive structure, a testament to its owner''s power. The walls shimmered with faint, golden light, and though the gates were shut, Moraithe saw the intricate entanglements binding them. Those entanglements were the key¡ªthe fortress was sealed by a kind of magic so powerful, it was said no invader could breach it, and no enemy could tread there without being consumed by its will.


    But as they neared, the shadows of the Severed closed in, their howls growing louder.


    Moraithe''s energy waned further. A tendril of darkness was winding into his mind, wrapping around his consciousness like a vice. His vision blurred, and for a split second, he thought he saw the form of a monstrous shadow, its glowing eyes staring directly at him. It called to him, beckoned him to let go, to surrender to the dark.


    His grip on the shield faltered.


    The shadows surged forward, eager to tear into them. An army stood between them and their destination.


    "Moraithe!" Norgoth shouted, seeing the wavering shield. The Severed were close, too close.


    The fortress gates¡ªalready shimmering with the power of the owner''s entanglements¡ªbegan to glow brighter, but they weren''t opening. Not yet.


    "I ¡­ can''t ¡­ hold it." Moraithe whispered through clenched teeth.


    He was losing the fight. He knew it, felt it in his bones. The pain from the effort of holding the shield was too much, his power drained.


    How were they to break through those ranks of Severed to the fortress? "I have an idea," Saffrael shouted. "Grab onto that tree."


    They surged toward a lone tree at the edge of the horde of Severed. Their arms wrapped around it and suddenly, they were inhaling water and struggling to hold on against a massive weight, so much water. How had the ocean suddenly poured out on their heads? Moraithe struggled to hold his breath, but just as his lungs were burning with the need to breathe the water stopped. He choked and gasped for breath.


    Norgoth sucked in a breath. "How did you store an entire lake in your revenescent?"


    The way was clear, at least most of it. Maybe they could break through the final ranks and reach the gates.


    With wild desperation they slammed into the line of Severed, only to be rebuffed. They couldn''t break through. Moraithe had passed the edge of his strength to extend the shield over his friends. Now the Severed that had been swept away in the flood were returning to surround them.


    But then, just as the shadows reached out to break through, there was a tremor. A ripple in the air, as if the very fabric of reality were shifting. The gates of the fortress slowly creaked open, and an enormous wave of golden light poured out, engulfing the Severed.


    Stone fingers of the entangled fortress stretched out, reaching far beyond its walls. The Severed began to scream as they were caught, bound by the power of the lord of the fortress. The shadows flailed, pulled into the fortress like ragdolls trapped by an invisible force. The night air grew thick with tension, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The enemy''s assault faltered.


    Moraithe''s shield finally began to give way. Norgoth and Saffrael collapsed to their knees, exhausted beyond measure. The shield flickered and then vanished completely as his focus snapped. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he looked up just as Saffrael and Norgoth crawled to his side. The golden light from the fortress walls illuminated their faces, but his vision was still clouded, the hallucinations lingering.


    "Stay with us, Moraithe," Saffrael urged, her voice softer now.


    But Moraithe''s body felt like stone, heavy and unyielding. He tried to speak, to tell them it wasn''t over, but no words came. His mind swirled in a haze of confusion, the remnants of his shield still flickering in his vision.


    And then, a new voice cut through the chaos¡ªa deep, resonant voice filled with power, so commanding it made the very air tremble.


    "You''re safe now. But we should hurry."


    Moraithe barely managed to lift his gaze toward the source of the voice. A figure stepped through the shimmering light of the gates, tall and imposing, a cloak of green and silver billowing behind him. The man''s eyes were like pools of molten gold, and in them Moraithe saw not just power¡ªbut the weight of untold knowledge. The walls of the fortress bent around him, binding itself to him in a way that seemed truly alive.


    "You''ve come just in time," Norgoth said, his voice tight with exhaustion.


    The man nodded, his expression weary.


    "We''re not done yet," the lord of the fortress said, his voice carrying the certainty of someone who had seen the worst the world had to offer¡ªand survived it. "Get inside. We have work to do."


    Saffrael and Norgoth helped Moraithe to his feet, and together, they staggered into the fortress, the gates closing behind them with a final, resounding boom. The Severed were locked out, but they could still feel their presence, like a cold wind at their backs.


    And as the darkness encroached upon the walls, Moraithe felt a flicker of hope¡ªthin, fragile, but there. They had made it. For now.


    Defenders manned the battlements, their weapons ready, and refugees huddled together within the walls, their faces drawn with fear and exhaustion.


    Once inside, the sheer magnitude of the fortress''s power hit them like a wave. Moraithe took a deep breath as the fear that had gripped him for so long finally released its hold. He blinked, his body slowly coming back to life as his senses sharpened. The world was clearer now, the hallucinations fading away.


    "What is this place?" Saffrael whispered, her eyes wide as she surveyed the fortress. The walls seemed to pulse with energy, and Moraithe could feel the entanglement suffusing the place¡ªan overwhelming, suffocating presence that made it feel as though the very earth beneath them was alive, aware.


    From the walls, the defenders unleashed a barrage of arrows, entanglements, and siege weapons against the Severed. But it wasn''t just the weapons that struck fear into the enemy¡ªit was the walls themselves. The massive stone structures seemed to move and shift with a life of their own, forming an impenetrable barrier, crushing the Severed with an almost casual disdain.


    Saffrael stretched her legs and back, kneading her cramped muscles. "So it was true, what they said about the lord of this fortress entangling the whole of it."


    "How is it possible?" Norgoth wondered. "He''s standing against an entire army. How could such power even exist?"


    Moraithe stared in awe, his mouth dry. He wasn''t the only one in shock. The other refugees, the defenders¡ªeveryone within the walls was staring, struck silent by the raw, unearthly power of the fortress. It was as though the land itself was under the control of a single, unfathomably strong will.


    But the Severed didn''t stop coming. They were drawn to the fortress, like moths to a flame. No matter how many were destroyed, more poured in, driven by some insatiable hunger for destruction.


    Moraithe checked for his weapons, his quiver still held arrows, but something was missing. "Where''s my bow?"


    "Don''t worry" Saffrael grabbed something out of seemingly nowhere and presented it to him. It was his bow. "I stored it in my revenescent when you fell."


    He took it, mounted the battlements, and turned toward the Severed. Perhaps now was as good a time as any to get in more practice with entanglements. Especially if he ever wanted to get even remotely as strong as the lord of this fortress. He lined up his shot ¡­


    Then a blast of force seemed nearly to rupture his eardrums. The wall covered them to stop a massive wall of anger as it roared over the fortress. What was that?


    A new presence had entered the battlefield. A Severed of such power that his every step caused tremors to shake the earth. His was a blackness that seemed to drink in light, turning it to tendrils of midnight. Fiery hatred bloomed in his eyes like the rays of a thousand suns.


    From the corners of his eyes Moraithe saw heads fall lifeless from the shoulders of hundreds of defenders, and their bodies dropped an instant later.


    Moraithe stood untouched by the attack, but shaken to the core.


    The horrified faces of the defenders told volumes. And a shout rang out, ¡°The Severed brought a baron to the battle.¡±


    ¡°What is a baron?¡± Moraithe asked one of the surviving defenders who stood beside him.


    ¡°One of the highest ranked beings in existance, higher even than our lord. With power to exceed him.¡±


    ¡°Bring him down!¡± Someone cried. An entire volley launched at the baron. Moraithe fired his shot, and finally timed the entanglement perfectly, he could hear the sound of the strike from here, but the baron didn¡¯t even notice.


    His next step forward broke the earth, rending the walls of the fortress itself. Moraithe lost his footing, falling to his knees as the walls shook.


    Then the world went white, and the sky itself seemed to shudder.


    A presence descended¡ªa man of impossible power, floating in the sky above the battlefield. He was like a storm incarnate, his very presence dwarfing the stars themselves. The Severed recoiled, panic spreading through their ranks as they saw him. With barely a flick of his hand, he unleashed a wave of destructive force that carved through the ranks of the Severed, scattering and obliterating all their forms in an instant, even disintegrating the imposing bulk of the baron. A massive canyon cleaved the land in the wake of the strike, a testament to his sheer might.


    In an instant, the godlike lord of the fortress and even the Severed baron had been utterly eclipsed by this being of unimaginable power.


    He descended slowly as if the earth itself bent to his will, landing before Moraithe and his friends with quiet grace. The air around him thrummed with power, and every step he took seemed to make the ground tremble.


    Moraithe''s world slowed as the man reached toward him and lifted his chin, locking eyes with him. "You seem well," he said, his voice like thunder, yet strangely calm.


    Moraithe could barely speak, still reeling from the overwhelming display of power. His mind raced to comprehend what had just happened. This man¡ªthis force of nature¡ªwas more powerful than anything he had ever imagined.


    And yet, there was something in his eyes¡ªsomething familiar. A recognition.


    But before Moraithe could gather his thoughts the unfathomable being scooped him out of the world, and tossed him into another place, a strange place with other worlds floating in a sky amid a panoply of brilliant light. His friends were gone, the world was gone, and he stood alone on a strange shore.


    Moraithe stammered at the being who had just saved the world and whisked him away. "You ¡­ What ¡­ Why would someone like you take note of someone so insignificant?"


    "There is nothing insignificant about you. I was once where you are now, stumbling in the dark with none to lead the way. It is like entanglement, I find my glory in your glory. I seek to lift you, and every soul, up to be like me, to have what I have. You of all people deserve that much."


    "Me?" Moraithe nearly fell back.


    "You have a well of gratitude that dwarfs even my substantial reserves."


    "What? I''m no one, I can barely throw a punch, let alone save anyone. How ¡­ Where did I get such wealth?"


    "Due to Throm''tor''s experiments, amnesia has stolen most of your strength. But that wealth of gratitude remains, and no one can take it from you, not without your approval."


    "But after what you did how could I have more than you?"


    "By my estimates, you must have over half the gratitude in all the universe. That is quite a lot of money, quite a lot of power." The being stepped in and looked closely into his eyes, as if he could see his very soul. "But you don''t remember me, do you?"


    "You just saved the world. I ¡­ Should I?"


    "My name is Elithir. Once, I was your father." The being turned and stepped away to look out over a strange sea. "But before that, you were something even greater to me, and likely, just about everyone else."


    "What does that mean?"


    Elithir turned back to Moraithe. "It''s no great riddle." He tapped Moraithe gently on the forehead. "If you could only remember."


    "Why don''t you at least tell me what you know about me."


    "Very well. But first I must do something about that world. There is a war coming to all worlds, the enemy is combined, and they have no true bodies, but great wickedness. They have killed a great many. So I must save and protect what I can."


    Suddenly they had both returned to the world, back to the fortress with his friends.


    By some trick of the light the world seemed to invert, everything falling through the surface of the earth to emerge on the inside, as if all things were bent inward, inside the planet, and they could see the whole surface of the world at once. Elithir rose into the air, high above the land or rather in the center of it, as if in the center of a hollow world. He spoke and every corner of the world was filled with the sound. And every eye turned up to see him.


    Moraithe stood there, feet sinking into the detritus of the battle, and watched as the impossible unfolded before him. The ground trembled, shaking as if the earth itself feared what stood at the center of it. He stood there¡ªthe one who had wrenched the world back from the edge of oblivion, Elithir, whose presence was a churning, infinite thing. Not man, not god, but something beyond both. The air rippled with the force of his voice, heavy and deep, vibrating the bones of the world itself.


    "Look upon me," Elithir called, his words weaving through the vast expanse of the sky, over oceans, through mountain passes. They passed like a soft breeze over the land, touching every ear, soothing the deepest aches, and raking the soul with their weight. "I offer you mercy, and in mercy, I offer you choice."


    Moraithe''s heart hammered in his chest. He had felt the tremors of that distant battle, the unspeakable invasion that had only just been halted. The dead. The broken. They lingered in the aftermath, their cries muffled, but not silenced. Was it enough? The gods had no place here anymore, not after what had been done. But this... this thing... this being who now held the pulse of the world in his hands, whose voice soothed yet stirred unease in the pit of Moraithe''s stomach.


    The words, so casual, so unnervingly warm, rippled through the air: "I will heal your wounds. Your bodies shall mend, your lives restored. No more shall you wander through a thousand ages seeking to reclaim what has been lost. I shall protect you¡ªif you choose it."


    Moraithe''s breath caught. Lives restored? How many had fallen in the wake of this battle? How many would need to spend ten thousand years to remake or restore their bodies, until their next death, over and over, only to face the same damnation once more? Their lords had failed them, but this... this being, Elithir, was offering them an escape¡ªa way out of the war. A way into his embrace, where time could be turned and twisted, a place where the world itself could be saved.


    But the offer came into focus as the words grew darker, richer. "I will take your world into a revenescent," he intoned, as the land around Moraithe trembled beneath his feet. "A pocked dimension. Your world will be sheltered. And I will keep it safe."


    A silence followed, thick and suffocating. Moraithe could feel it¡ªcould hear the distant stirrings of hope, mingled with fear. Who would follow? Those who wanted to hide from the fire, from the rage, would seek shelter. But the others ¡­ the ones who refused to be hidden?


    Elithir''s voice, now heavy with command, slipped into every crack of the land, into every corner of their souls: "I will take those who wish it, and the matter of your world shall come with them. I will separate it, twist it, divide it into two. Two worlds, separate and whole. You may remain, whether you wish to fight or merely wish to reject my words."


    Moraithe''s chest burned. He did not want to be hidden away. He did not want to leave. He wanted to fight, this was his war, he had started it, and he would finish it. He wanted to stand with the others, not be coddled away in some¡­ pocket of reality. His hands clenched into fists, and at that moment, he knew there was no choice. He could never bend to this offer.


    Suddenly the inversion was undone and the world was right-side-out again. Then, the earth below him began to rise, a violent surge that pressed against him with such force that it seemed as though the world itself would crush him. He stumbled, legs shaking, and then¡ªa rush. The ground ceased its rebellion, and with a suddenness that stole the breath from his lungs, he was thrown upward.


    The sky spun in dizzying arcs as he soared, weightless, for a brief moment. Around him, the jagged edges of the land were cast as if in some great celestial forge¡ªeach sliver of earth a speared fragment of the world. And before him, rising and falling, endless spikes of broken land shot from the ground like towering spires. The shape of the world was coming apart.


    But then, just as quickly, the pressure returned¡ªforceful and unyielding, holding him in place, pulling him down to the surface once again. His feet found purchase on a jagged piece of land, and there he stood, gazing around in awe.


    He wasn''t the only one. Around him, he saw others¡ªdistant figures, each standing atop their own jagged piece of earth, each caught in their own moment of shock and wonder. The world was changing. The great being had wrought something incomprehensible. The world was breaking apart. But somehow, the world was being remade, remade into something new, into two.


    The spikes removed from the earth were taken and brought together. The metallic gleam of something immense shone between the great spikes of earth. The spike on which he stood fell, his stomach lurched as all the spikes were brought down onto it. Crushing the fragments together, locking them into place, the world folded upon itself. Though it ought to have been deafening, somehow the sound was muted. The air hummed with power, and for a moment, it seemed as though time itself was bending, warping, like the fabric of reality itself was being skinned and stitched together anew.


    The spikes of land¡ªeach bearing a piece of the old world¡ªsank, melding with the world''s core, only to rise again like skin being stretched over bones. Slowly, the world took on a new shape. Continents shifted like puzzle pieces, some crushed into mountains, some spread thin into valleys. The seams were barely visible now, only small ripples here and there where the earth had been laid back together.


    Two worlds now orbited one another.


    Then, in a blink, the other world was gone¡ªswallowed whole into the revenescent, a pocket of the cosmos that shimmered with light beyond the known world.


    Yet, in that brief instant, in the flicker of light from beyond the veil, as the revenescent opened to swallow up the other world, Moraithe swore he saw something in the depths of that revenescent¡ªhundreds of worlds, perhaps thousands, spinning like stars in a sky that should not exist. It was as though the very essence of the universe had been scooped up and wrapped in a blanket of some untouchable mystery. There, in the boundless depths, thousands of orbs shined with billions of lives, and infinite futures.


    Moraithe stood still, his breath caught in his throat. The enormity of it pressed down on him. What kind of being could do this?


    His eyes traced the outline of space where he had seen the revenescent open wide to swallow a planet, his mind racing. This Elithir was beyond a force, beyond a god, he was something beyond comprehension. Beyond reckoning.


    Just what kind of a person, what kind of power, what kind of being could entangle entire worlds?


    Moraithe swallowed, his resolve hardening. He had not chosen to hide. He had to know.


    He turned to find Norgoth and Saffrael right beside him. But before he could speak a word the unfathomable might of Elithir stood before him again.


    "I promised you some answers. Perhaps it is time for a long overdue talk."

 Show Me The Use of Power

    <blockquote>[First Era (War Year 3)]</blockquote>


    <blockquote>[A Memory Within a Memory (War Year 0)]</blockquote>


    Answers? Elithir¡¯s words echoed like the voice of a thousand winds.


    Moraithe glanced at Saffrael and Norgoth, and then back to Elithir. He nodded. Elithir placed a hand on his shoulder. His presence seemed to stretch across the very fabric of reality, and suddenly they were elsewhere.


    He looked around, confused. He had heard stories of the Infinite¡ªof beings with unimaginable power¡ªbut standing before Elithir, a being whose mere presence made the very air feel charged, he understood what it meant to be insignificant.


    Under the dim sunlight, the land here seemed to pulsate, mountains rising and sinking, rock and soil blending and parting as if the earth was caught in an eternal dance of transformation. The ground beneath them shifted as if the earth itself was breathing, rising and falling in slow, deliberate motions. From deep below, Moraithe heard the earth groan, an unsettling lullaby of something immense and restless.


    Moraithe turned to Elithir, eyes wide, seeking some sense of familiarity. ¡°Where¡ªwhat is this place?¡±


    ¡°An inconvenient world for a conversation,¡± Elithir answered, his tone cool but cutting. ¡°But a necessary one. Look at it.¡± He waved a hand at the swirling landscape¡ªjagged mountain peaks pierced the sky seemingly at random. Lava flowed in streams and rivulets across the valleys. ¡°This is a world in flux. Rising, falling, shifting, changing¡ªjust like you.¡±


    Moraithe staggered as the ground buckled beneath him, and a great fissure cracked open nearby, spilling molten light. The earth rumbled like a warning, but Elithir¡¯s gaze was unyielding. ¡°You will learn,¡± he said softly. ¡°Your life is changing. If you survive, you may reshape this place, just as it will reshape you.¡±


    He turned to Elithir, his mind still reeling, frustration seeping through his voice. ¡°You brought me here for answers, didn¡¯t you?¡± Moraithe¡¯s throat tightened, his voice cracked with the weight of the question, the exhaustion, the uncertainty. ¡°To tell me how I lost everything I was before. How I became less than nothing.¡±


    The ground beneath them rumbled, the earth shifting in subtle waves as if the world itself were trying to swallow his anger whole.


    Elithir moved closer, the weight of his presence pressing down on Moraithe like gravity. He raised a hand, the air crackling with his infinite presence, and gestured at the shifting land beneath them. ¡°To live is to change. Life is chaos.¡± He swept a hand outward, and Moraithe followed his gaze. The distant peaks shuddered, sinking like dying giants, only for new ridges to claw their way from the earth.


    Moraithe stood frozen, his mind whirling. ¡°Why is this world ¡­ shifting like it¡¯s on the brink of collapse?¡±


    Elithir paused for a moment, his voice dropping like he was reliving something he wished could stay buried. ¡°Mithsyrium.¡±


    Moraithe blinked, the word landing like a stone. ¡°What¡¯s ¡­ mithsyrium?¡±


    ¡°Elusive, volatile. A substance like a force of nature.¡± Elithir¡¯s tone grew more intense, his words flowing faster now. ¡°It was born out of the very war you ¡­ or rather we started. That and experimenting with power¡ªuntested, reckless power.¡±


    Moraithe¡¯s brow furrowed, but he didn¡¯t interrupt. His mind was spinning, trying to catch up.


    ¡°This world was already torn apart before the fighting, but both sides desired what this place contained. So, they created weapons¡ªadvanced, dangerous. But they weren¡¯t just weapons. They could reshape reality itself. But you can¡¯t control forces like that. Not when you don¡¯t even understand them. Not when you¡¯re too eager to wield them.¡±


    Moraithe felt the weight of those words press on him. ¡°So, what? They ¡­ triggered this?¡±


    Elithir nodded, his expression darkening. ¡°Exactly. When the weapons¡ªwhen they collided¡ªit wasn¡¯t just rage or fire. It was chaos itself that was unleashed. The mithsyrium was born from the collision, and with it, everything changed. The fabric of reality¡ªwhat we thought we knew¡ªbegan to melt. Mithsyrium was born, and the land itself became unstable.¡±


    Elithir continued, ¡°Now this world is shaped by mithsyrium, a substance which melds matter together. As it drinks in matter, stacking it together, melding it into one, it grows so dense it causes the world to shift and sink. But as it sinks it grows warm, heat causes it to release what it has taken, only to rise again. Because of this cycle, nothing stays the same. It is beautiful in its chaos ¡­ and dangerous.¡±


    Moraithe¡¯s chest tightened, the pieces finally starting to fall into place. ¡°So it¡¯s like this world¡¯s been in a state of flux ever since then? The world itself is fighting to stabilize, but it can¡¯t. It¡¯s in a constant battle against itself?¡±


    Elithir met his gaze with an intensity that made Moraithe feel like the ground itself was watching him. ¡°Because the source of it all¡ªthe mithsyrium¡ªis too chaotic. Just like your memories. Just like your power. Both of them¡ªfractured, shifting. But you¡¯re not the only one in flux, Moraithe. The war you started¡­ you merely triggered it. It was already waiting. Ever since those souls let the will to dominate others fill their hearts this devastation was always going to happen.¡±


    Moraithe stood there, staring at the ever-shifting land, the pieces of his life, and the world, still broken and shifting like a thousand untold secrets. And for the first time, he understood the magnitude of what he was up against. Not just the war. All the souls in the universe were like the mithsyrium, bound together in a constant, never-ending dance of chaos and change.


    He looked up at the stars, at the dying sun, a burnt yellow. His mouth fell open in shock, he recognized it. He knew this world. This was the ruins of Throm¡¯tor¡¯s world. ¡°You said the war came here? That they desired something it contained?¡± Moraithe leaned forward, his brow furrowed. ¡°Why would anyone fight over Throm''tor¡¯s ruin?¡± he asked, his voice sharp, disbelief threading through his words.


    Elithir, ever calm, took his time before responding. His tone was slow, deliberate, but there was a slight edge to it, as though he¡¯d been anticipating the question. ¡°Because, apparently, the wreckage of his throne might still hold a certain power.¡±


    Moraithe ran a hand through his hair, a skeptical laugh escaping him. ¡°Power?¡± he repeated as if the word itself were strange. ¡°How? The ones who powered it¡ªthe Severed who made it work¡ªthey¡¯re the very ones we¡¯re fighting.¡±


    Elithir¡¯s gaze softened with a hint of amusement. ¡°Not power for us,¡± he said, voice quick, cutting through the confusion. ¡°Power for them. The Severed. For them, it¡¯s not about what¡¯s there. It¡¯s about what used to be there. The history of an object. The memories it holds. And the greater the history, the weightier the power.¡± He paused letting his words settle in the air. ¡°What could be greater than the fragments of the Throne of Souls?¡±


    Moraithe stood silent, trying to wrap his mind around it. The idea felt like a puzzle piece that didn¡¯t quite fit, the edges sharp and jarring. ¡°So the Severed take their power out of time itself?¡±


    ¡°Not so much out of time, but out of an object¡¯s history.¡± Elithir stepped back, brow furrowing as if unsure how to explain. ¡°The Severed cannot perform entanglement or hold a revenescent, their powers are all knotted up inside their hatred. But we¡¯ll talk about that more later. I came here to answer your questions. Particularly why you have so much gratitude shielding you.¡±


    Moraithe¡¯s gaze fixed on him, waiting in rapt attention.


    Elithir¡¯s voice carried the weight of eons, each word deliberate and measured, as though preparing to unravel a secret that spanned lifetimes. ¡°Our minds have always existed. In some form or other, we have always been thinking entities, aware of our own existence. But none of us, not a single one, knew anything beyond ourselves. We were unaware of matter, of energy, even of one another. There was only us.¡± He paused, allowing the silence to stretch, like a deep breath taken in the dark. ¡°And then you came.¡±


    Moraithe¡¯s brow furrowed, but Elithir continued, his voice now softer, as if tracing the outline of a distant memory. ¡°It was you who woke us all. With your presence, we began to understand¡ªslowly at first¡ªthis new world, this world beyond ourselves. As we scrambled to make sense of it, you traveled onward, waking more and more of us. Again and again. On and on, until I believe you had woken nearly every living soul.¡±


    Elithir¡¯s gaze shifted to the horizon as if seeing something only he could perceive. ¡°And that is why, Moraithe, you hold our gratitude. A deeper, greater well of gratitude than anyone else could ever comprehend. You gave us awareness of each other¡ªa gift so vast that none could fathom its true worth.¡±


    He turned back to Moraithe, his voice growing more introspective. ¡°But it wasn¡¯t until much later, long after we¡¯d uncovered the laws of matter and space, long after we had learned to use entanglement and revenescent, and even to craft these bodies we now inhabit, that you decided to finish your work.¡±


    ¡°When I reached out for another soul to foster, you were there.¡± There was a slight pause before Elithir spoke again, the next words falling slowly, like stones sinking into the depths of an ocean. ¡°I didn¡¯t recognize you at first. But it didn¡¯t take long to realize who you were. And that¡¯s when I became your father.¡±


    His eyes softened, an almost imperceptible change in the way he looked at Moraithe. ¡°I taught you all that we had learned over those endless eons. I taught you how to craft your body. As you grew it, your mother kept its elements safe in her revenescent. And then you began to grow strong, to understand.¡±


    Elithir¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Until Throm¡¯tor captured you.¡±


    Moraithe¡¯s heart skipped, the name like a sharp knife twisting inside him.


    ¡°You were on a mission, a rescue mission, you know,¡± Elithir continued, his voice hardening. ¡°You were going to save Saffrael, whom Throm¡¯tor had kidnapped and hidden away, stashed in a place so secret that no one thought it possible to find. But you found it¡ªhis secret world, buried deep in a revenescent.¡± Elithir''s eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. ¡°You sought my advice, gathered your courage, and you plunged in. And that is when he found you.¡±


    Moraithe could hear the weight in Elithir''s voice, the gravity of the moment when Throm¡¯tor, hidden away in his own darkness, learned his secret was revealed. ¡°He was stronger than anyone had imagined,¡± Elithir went on, his words now like stones being dropped into an abyss. ¡°He¡¯d crafted that throne for himself, made it from the souls of those who sought power. Power to rule, to dominate. And there, in his forge, he enslaved you. He meant to use you to finish his throne, to solidify his will until no one could deny him.¡±


    Elithir¡¯s voice grew lower, darker still. ¡°That was his goal. To make everyone bow to his will. Most particularly to see your mother and I grovel before him.¡±


    Moraithe reeled. Each word seemed to cut deeper, revealing things he hadn¡¯t known or hadn¡¯t fully understood. His mind buzzed with fragments of memories, some sharp, others distant, but none quite whole. ¡°I sort of remember some of that¡­¡±


    Elithir¡¯s gaze softened, and he nodded, though the sympathy in his eyes didn¡¯t soften the gravity of his next words. ¡°When you lost your memories, you lost your self-assurance. And that is what amplifies all your power. Especially entanglements.¡± He paused, letting the words hang in the air, a silent weight between them. ¡°We used to call it confidence, but that¡¯s easily confused with pride or bravado. Those don¡¯t bring power. No, self-assurance comes from knowledge, from experience. And those can''t be faked or inflated. That¡¯s why, when your mind was shattered, you didn¡¯t just lose your memory. You lost your power as well.¡±


    Moraithe stared at him for a long moment, considering the fierce displays of power he¡¯d so recently seen. ¡°During the battle, I heard them talking about lords and barons. What does that mean? How do you know how powerful someone is?¡±


    Elithir didn¡¯t answer immediately, his eyes distant as though pulling the answer from the depths of forgotten time. ¡°Just as we measure gratitude by units, so we know how much to pay, we measure self-assurance in the same way,¡± he said, his voice steady, almost mechanical. ¡°And that is how you know someone''s power.¡± The way Elithir spoke about it¡ªso casually¡ªleft Moraithe feeling small, insignificant.


    ¡°How powerful was this baron who killed so many of the defenders?¡±


    Elithir gave a small, thoughtful hum, then nodded as if to himself. ¡°Ranks are calculated based on self-assurance,¡± he said. ¡°You have to understand that these ranks were created rather organically as people began to divide out levels of power. After the first few each was slowly added over the ages. The first rank, a soldier starts at seven hundred and goes until fifteen hundred when they reach captain. They become a master at three thousand, a knight at nine thousand, a general at twenty thousand, and a lord at forty-five thousand¡± He paused for a moment, his eyes glinting with a knowing look. ¡°The rank of baron is reached at a hundred thousand, and ¡­ well, you get the picture.¡±


    Moraithe blinked, his mind struggling to process its sheer magnitude.


    ¡°How much self-assurance do I have?¡±


    ¡°At present, you have fourteen.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Worse than he expected. ¡°How long does it take to get that much power?¡± Moraithe asked, almost incredulous.


    Elithir looked at him, considering the question. ¡°Everyone is different,¡± he said. ¡°But on average, self-assurance can be gained at a rate of about ten units per year, as time is reckoned on the first star.¡±


    Moraithe ran his fingers through his hair, disbelief creeping into his voice. ¡°So ¡­ it¡¯ll take me sixty-nine years just to reach the level of soldier?¡±


    Elithir¡¯s expression softened, but his next words carried a weight that only grew heavier. ¡°It would, yes. But you once had far more power than you do now. You were a prince, Moraithe. A prince, with a self-assurance of around twelve million.¡± He met Moraithe¡¯s eyes. ¡°And if you regain even a fraction of your memory, a sliver of that power would likely return to you.¡±


    Moraithe clenched his fists. ¡°Twelve million?¡± His laugh was bitter. ¡°I can barely time the entanglement on an arrow. How am I supposed to reach that again?¡±


    ¡°If you are determined to do it it will be inevitable, the only question is how long it will take.¡±


    Moraithe felt his heart race at the thought, a glimmer of the strength he¡¯d once had flickering in the dark corners of his mind. He looked up at Elithir, the enormity of his next question weighing on him. ¡°So¡­ just how powerful are you?¡±


    Elithir¡¯s gaze never wavered. ¡°I am an Infinite,¡± he said simply, the word carrying a finality, a weight all its own. ¡°My self-assurance is approximately fifty-seven-billion.¡±


    Moraithe¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°What of Throm¡¯tor?¡±


    Elithir¡¯s expression shifted for just a moment, a shadow passing over his face. ¡°Before he fell, Throm¡¯tor had around twenty-three-billion.¡±


    Moraithe¡¯s mind struggled to process everything. ¡°So gratitude doesn¡¯t have levels like that?¡± he asked, suddenly unsure of how to even frame the world around him.


    ¡°No,¡± Elithir replied, shaking his head. ¡°Gratitude is your wealth. It¡¯s measured, but there are no ranks, no titles. Though a shield of around two thousand gratitude is recommended for a soldier going into battle.¡±


    ¡°And how much do I have?¡± Moraithe asked, his voice low, a little wary now that the scope of his situation had fully settled over him.


    Elithir¡¯s lips quirked slightly as he raised a hand to Moraithe¡¯s forehead, his brow furrowing. ¡°Let me see if I can calculate it,¡± he muttered, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he concentrated. ¡°Ah, it seems you currently have over fifty-two quadrillion units of gratitude. To be exact¡­ 52,158,443,634,576,437.¡±


    Moraithe¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Uh¡­ woah,¡± he breathed, the weight of that number nearly knocking him off his feet. ¡°What can I do with that?¡±


    Elithir gave him a pointed look. ¡°You could buy everything that exists if you wanted. But the Severed don¡¯t care much for ownership. They take what they want. You could, however, invest in training. And when you¡¯re ready, when you have the strength, you could outfit your own armies. Field forces greater than even mine.¡±


    Moraithe¡¯s shoulders slumped. He hadn¡¯t even begun to understand the extent of his power, let alone how to use it. ¡°It¡¯ll be some time before I¡¯m ready for that.¡±


    Elithir¡¯s gaze softened. ¡°Perhaps not as long as you think. I¡¯ve never found your lost memories. They were likely fragmented, left behind somewhere around here where you lost them.¡± He paused, his hands moving gently to Moraithe¡¯s head. ¡°But there is a shattered memory still within you. Let me see if I can piece it together for you. Perhaps it will restore a sliver of your old strength.¡±


    Moraithe¡¯s heart pounded in his chest, a nervous fluttering he couldn¡¯t control. This was it. This was the moment. Would he regain some of the power he once had? Would he be able to rise again?


    The reality faded as the memory came rushing in ¡­


    Slowly, the nameless man had raised a cold and steady hand pushing back his white silk hood. Brushing aside the robe, he clasped the stiletto at his belt, drawing it slowly from its sheath. He knelt and raised the blade above the expressionless man lying willingly on the floor before the throne. Reality scraped across the back of his mind intensifying into an unnerving shriek, and he shuddered.


    Dazzling hues of sunlight cascaded through the vaulted crystalline windows lining the temple hall. The elaborate arches rang with deep and alluring voices, chorusing in a rapturous hum.


    The vast expanse of the temple hall was suffused with a luminous glow in the light which skipped from stone to stone. His eyes cast about, the merest glance spoke of ages consumed in forming a single elaborately worked pillar. Each was hewn into twin-winged serpents, their tails coiled and bodies intertwined as they rose up from the floor. The serpents spiraled upward until back to back with heads held majestically, their wings unfurled, meeting the wings of their brothers, and spreading out to form the peaked domes which loomed over the magnificent hall. They stretched out in a broad, sweeping array, an endless sea of pillars, each similar but unique, vaulting up to dizzying heights. Every detail down to the tiniest scale or the sharpest talon carved and polished so finely as to make even a Dazzler gape in awe. Though in that place even the Dazzlers, weaving their wondrous tales, had long been wrung from all memory.


    ¡°Plunge the stiletto deep, soak the blade in his flesh!¡± The nameless man recoiled in pain as the cry rang in his ears, echoing in his mind, trampling his thoughts and pounding at his will as if it would rupture. Yet through the deafening noise, a still, calm whisper came into his mind that even the thunderous roar could not drown out. He knew the voice and it spoke to him. The grasp on his mind lifted. He had been freed for a reason, and time was running out.


    The whisper formed words in his mind, little more than a trace but more powerful than all the thunders of the earth. Only you can save us before the shackles bind us all eternally. It was a familiar voice resonating with power and wisdom, he knew that voice, knew it as surely as he breathed, but he could not recall the name of the voice that called to him.


    The nameless man stared back and forth between the stiletto and the familiar figure lying before him¡ªso familiar. He was supposed to do something, but what?


    A blaring roar scraped across the back of his mind, relentlessly intensifying into an unnerving shriek. He recoiled in pain as once again the cry rang in his mind, nearly breaking through the only coherent thoughts he could hold.


    The stiletto fell from his fingers and clattered to the stone floor beside the prostrated man, its blade clean. He clawed fingers into his scalp until the screams subsided. Something was wrong. Why am I here? He stared in frustration at the dagger on the stone floor. Though the howling had ceased, the sense of desperation prodded his thoughts past the stiletto, past wondering at the familiar figure lying before him. But his thoughts turned upward, with his gaze, to the wondrous throne before which he knelt.


    Its smooth sheen glimmered in a way that no amount of polishing could achieve; a throne wrought, rather than hewn, from stone. The forms of three enchantresses clothed in gossamer robes formed the throne. Huddled together, their skirts were being swept away by the wind, the first embracing it, the others fighting it. The flow of windswept robes and long, sweeping tresses formed the seat. Each strand of hair had been molded with seemingly impossible delicacy. With her back to the wind, the wings of one swept out protectively as if staving off the wind, the others swept back to catch it. Every vein in every feather had been molded into the stone. All skin and muscles flowed naturally. Circlets of flowers crowned each brow. Their eyes were framed by delicate lashes, and their lips looked soft and supple as no stone had ever seemed. Yet despite its beauty, a pain and darkness imbued the throne, as if suffering festered within the very stone.


    But the throne itself lay empty. Why do I bow before an empty throne? Eyes darted back to the stiletto and the figure lying at the base of the throne breathing slowly.


    Throm''tor struck him with his scathe lash, and the whisper faded. But an instant later the whisper surged, mingled with a fierce sense of urgency, a sense of desperation longing to be released. Bracing his swimming head his fingers dug painfully into his scalp until, at last, the dissonance subsided.


    Memories surged back, screaming through his mind like an overwhelming flood, hungry to consume him. And he finally remembered, he was Moraithe, and just a moment ago he had been standing upon another world. The memory came flooding back ¡­


    Upon that other world, moonlight had glazed over the flitting leaves and trickled across the windswept fields quelling his misgivings.


    Pressing his eyes closed he drank the clean scent of the meadows, the feathered touch of the cool wind tracing swirls across his skin, the serene music of the night drifting from the shadow of the woods. He let it fill him, pushing out the sense of the dread which threatened to seize him like iron. It was like the great breath before he leaped.


    ¡°You are certain I can do this?¡±


    Elithir clapped hands to his shoulders. ¡°Be prepared for him to take your mind. It was he who first discovered bewitchment. He has always been enamored with it.¡±


    Moraithe¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°But it was forbidden by the council from the beginning.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve seen what he did to Saffrael. I would not have asked this of you,¡± Elithir¡¯s gentle, rumbling voice washed over him like soothing balm, ¡°but he has always been wary of me. He does not know your strength, he is blind to it.¡±


    ¡°He knows I am no match for him.¡±


    Elithir caught him by the arm. ¡°No, you cannot match his power nor his cunning. He has crafted darker and stranger works than the throne itself, but none more powerful. At all costs, he must not gain the throne or we are all doomed as his slaves and puppets for endless time. Hold to your course, keep the plan, only then can you hope to save her. Only then can you hope to save us all.¡±


    ¡°You truly believe I can do this?


    ¡°Of course.¡± Elithir released his arm and clapped him on the back. ¡°You carry all our hope.¡±


    Moraithe nodded slowly and with a deep breath. The universe stretched and he vanished into another world, Throm¡¯tor¡¯s world.


    Air erupted around him like jagged shards of ice threatening to rip deep fissures into his skin.


    Staggering, his feet hammered against the stone floor jarring his bones and resounding throughout the ancient stone hall. But he¡¯d come to the wrong place. The shrieks, clanking of chains, and sizzle of searing flesh were absent. The bloodstained world he had imagined, gone. Rather he found himself gaping as his senses flooded with beauty.


    Swirled runes danced across the floor of the vast chamber like metallic veins, seeming to have been born with the stone, so seamless was its silvered inlay. The ancient words focused, radiating glory from the throne which lorded in splendor over the temple. The scent of sweet spices lingered upon the air. Wafts still drifted from unnaturally beaming servants who bore golden platters¡ªheaping with assorted banquets of fresh sweet breads, spiced delicacies, and savory morsels¡ªpast glaze-eyed laborers.


    He stood at Throm¡¯tor¡¯s back. Yes, he had come to the right place.


    Then he saw it, it stood majestically before him radiating intense power, its beauty shrouding the hint of misery festering beneath its surface. The Throne of Souls! Gasping, he stifled the white-hot need to throw himself in a frenzy toward it. Careful, if he suspects ¡­ He stuffed the thought hastily into the back of his mind as Throm¡¯tor spun to face him.


    He knows! How could he know? Elithir protect me!


    ¡°Ah, Moraithe, welcome,¡± Throm¡¯tor dipped his brow in the merest nod, eyes locked on him in a knowing gaze.


    Ice surged through Moraithe¡¯s veins. He struggled to steady his voice. ¡°You have broken our trust and ensnared these pure souls with your wretched¡ªyour forbidden craft. The Council commands that you relinquish your power,¡± but his voice fell weak and tremulous. The plan, hold to the plan. He can¡¯t know. It is only his arrogance.


    ¡°The Council commands?¡± Throm¡¯tor snickered. ¡°And so the council has come with this great host of souls,¡± he gestured at the emptiness around him then pointed at Moraithe¡¯s chest. ¡°One weak and fragile man from a dead council, who cannot let go.¡± He strode forward fluidly, poked at Moraithe''s body curiously, and snorted. ¡°Crafted this yourself have you?¡± Without warning a whip, the infamous scathe lash wrapped around Moraithe. ¡°You will enjoy serving me. You are just in time to finish the throne. I think I¡¯ll have you sacrifice its creator to it.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°No!¡± Moraithe¡¯s senses flickered. Elithir, save me! Elithir ¡­ The glint of silver caught his eye as a familiar man beside the throne tucked a sheathed stiletto into his belt. He was so familiar.


    Take the shiny blade. The searing desires burned through his thoughts shredding his plan into vapors, nothing else mattered. He couldn¡¯t remember who he was or what he was doing.


    The familiar man lay down at his feet.


    With the hushed rustling of silk, Moraithe¡¯s hand plunged into the loose robes grazing the pommel of the stiletto secured at his belt. His fingers slipped over the grip, clasped it tightly, and drew it carefully from its sheathe, offering only a whispered ring of steel. Sinuous etchings adorned the blade and a flawless crystal orb capped its hilt. Some inimitable force compelled him to kneel before the prostrate man. The stiletto, he wanted to see how keen its blade was, he had to see how easily it could cut ¡­


    He came out of the rush of memory gasping for air like a drowning man, and he cast his eyes about the chamber laid out before him.


    No time for wondering, he stood fitfully kicking the stiletto behind him. Hurry! I must hurry! ¡­ To do what?! he snapped at himself in frustration. Again the scream shrieked in his mind, pounding in white hot need with its incessant rhythm, and this time he understood the words. Take the throne now! There is no time!


    As Moraithe gawked, sudden pain lanced through the back of his neck from icy fingers, shredding his skin. Throm¡¯tor¡¯s claws tore at him, forcing him to his feet. Another hand wrenched at his shoulder. He spun about to face Throm¡¯tor, whose blazing eyes flared with hatred.


    Tendrils of pain dug deep into him and Moraithe writhed in shrieking torment. Flames twirled about him blistering his raw skin. His muscles knotted and contorted as spidery arcs of blue lightning splintered through his flesh, relentless and unyielding. Deafening shrieks split his throat in unearthly pain. Thought, memory, identity all crumpled as Throm¡¯tor attacked his mind. Bracing his swimming head through the pain, his fingertips dug painfully into his scalp. Finally, he crumbled to the stone floor in a wrung-out heap as the last of his raw-throated cries echoed from the temple walls.


    Abrupt as lightning, a blinding flash of light burnt through the temple. With blinding intensity, it focused behind Throm''tor.


    He spun to face the figure who had appeared amid the endless light, which vanished as quickly as it had dawned. Moraithe fought to lift his head and blinked through the flash of light now burnt into his eyes, struggling to see through the washed-out hues. He has come. But even as the thought came to him he was unsure of who had come or why. There was something so familiar about the being who had arrived amid the light, a vague memory of speaking with him skittered across the surface of his thoughts.


    ¡°Elithir, my old friend,¡± Throm''tor''s sneer was anything but friendly. ¡°So it is you who has been meddling in my affairs. This is not your place, return to your own.¡±


    ¡°You have made it my place!¡± Elithir thundered. ¡°Do you think me blind enough to hide your true intentions from my sight? I see through your thoughts, I know your plans. I know you seek to make a puppet even of my mind.¡±


    ¡°You see my thoughts? Then you too dabble in the powers of the mind.¡± Throm¡¯tor foamed. ¡°No more, holy lectures¡ª¡±


    ¡°Seeing into a mind is very different from bewitching it.¡±


    ¡°But you have always controlled the minds of others,¡± Throm''tor laughed, ¡°with your tricks and persuasion.¡±


    ¡°You seek to blind their minds and bind their souls. You seek to rule over them. I teach them to rule themselves. I offer knowledge and power. Only when they know the truth shall they be free.¡±


    In that instant Elithir¡¯s eyes flickered to Moraithe to meet his gaze and suddenly words formed in his mind. Quickly, I cannot distract him for much longer. Moraithe scrambled desperately at the words. He had to do something, but what? With his mind scrambled as it was he could not remember.


    ¡°They cannot rule themselves,¡± Throm¡¯tor spat, ¡°you have proven that with your teeming worlds. Mine is a world of order, peace, and beauty. Your worlds are filled with chaos and destruction.¡±


    ¡°Resistance yields growth. But you don¡¯t want that. You keep them stunted.¡±


    As he stumbled about Moraithe''s eyes lighted upon the stiletto lying upon the floor. Should I finish it now? If only he could put the stiletto to Throm''tor¡¯s flesh. He scurried across the floor.


    Suddenly, Elithir¡¯s eyes found him once more as he fumbled for the stiletto. NO! The throne, you must get to the throne! He spun in desperation as the words hit with more force than he could believe.


    Drawn by the commotion behind him Throm''tor whipped about.


    In a swirl of white, silk robes Moraithe threw himself at the throne, over the man lying at his feet. Throm¡¯tor lashed out for him with his scathe lash, his tool of bewitching. Some unseen force caught the lash, turning it away. Throm¡¯tor spun about to face Elithir once more.


    Moraithe hit the throne and scrambled to turn and sit on it. He stared in astonishment as the figure at his feet climbed up the throne and brushed in beside him, the one he now remembered as Norgoth, his ancient friend.


    ¡°You made the throne to have power over even the Infinites now you shall taste of that power,¡± Elithir roared.


    In rage and hatred, Throm¡¯tor lashed out with a blast of power deep enough to shake the earth. But in that instant Elithir vanished in a blinding flash of light and was gone.


    Throm¡¯tor clenched his hand and the glyph embedded there began to spin and burn with an incandescent glow. That glyph, it must be a law stone, the power that created and maintained the very laws of nature for this world. Throm¡¯tor raised his hand to the sky and power burst forth sealing the world ominously.


    Moraithe had the sinking feeling that they were alone, completely cut off from the aid of Elithir or any other for that matter. Throm¡¯tor turned to them with a death glare and they shrunk into the throne, trembling.


    ¡°You think holding my throne will save you.¡± He pulled a crystal from his robes and inserted it into a staff. ¡°You are ten billion years too inexperienced to match me.¡± He pointed the staff at them, and the crystal exploded. Pure entropy rammed into his mind, shattering his thoughts, his memories. He clutched onto this moment as all the other memories fell away in the blast. When it ended he knew little more than who he was and what he was now doing.


    This was the throne of souls, imbued with unmatched power to control both mind and body, far greater power than that which now besieged them. In a fit of desperation, he clawed wildly at the power of the throne. But his friend Norgoth calmly filled himself with the power and threw up a shield to protect them. Effortlessly, the shield billowed forth across the land to guard all souls from Throm¡¯tor¡¯s power.


    All throughout the grand hall men and women awakened from their labors as from a nightmare. They remembered all they had suffered through the millennia, and they turned to Throm¡¯tor with a rage that could not be measured. For ten thousand years Throm''tor had controlled them, mind and body, with his scathe lash, like puppets dancing to his will.


    He had forced Norgoth to craft the throne and had caused them to sacrifice thousands of souls into it to imbue it with the power which it now held. Power that none could match. Power that could make even the Infinites dance upon his puppet strings forever. Moraithe¡¯s heart thrashed in pain for the souls lost to this throne. But he would use it to pull Throm''tor down with all his tyranny.


    Throm¡¯tor shivered with molten rage, shoulders tensing and hooked claws glinting hungrily from the soft pads of his fingertips.


    Behind the shield Moraithe followed his friend''s lead, only he fashioned his power into a lash even greater than Throm¡¯tor¡¯s.


    In rage Throm''tor shouted and the earth shuddered and quaked from the depths, it would respond to his command. In fear Moraithe struck, silencing him with a lash from the throne.


    Binding him, he considered what he could cause Throm¡¯tor to do. Perhaps make him destroy himself.


    Throm¡¯tor laughed. But why? Even bound he was dangerous, too dangerous. He had too many tricks and he understood this power more deeply than anyone. Throm¡¯tor was the master here, bound or not. He tried to ignore Throm¡¯tor¡¯s triumphant gaze. Throm''tor had lost. He should not look triumphant.


    Throm¡¯tor laughed once again. ¡°This glyph holds all the laws of this world, and it is entangled with my very soul. Only by breaking my soul could you stop me, and that would lead to the death of all. Surely you would not destroy the world just to save it from me?¡±


    Of course, Throm¡¯tor would have entangled the laws of nature in this place. How could he have been so blind? What was he to do? Already Throm¡¯tor was devising a plan, he could see it in his eyes. They had to figure something out before he did. Until they had a plan he was like a caged rage-rake, and they were locked in the cage with him.


    Oh, if only Saffrael were here, she was the wisest person he knew besides Elithir himself. He may have lost nearly all his memories, but he could not forget her.


    Using the throne his gaze pierced the walls to stare at those out on the fields of wind-raked hedge lilies, through forests of tall, majestic trees, and even through the earth to those beyond the mountains.


    He searched among the inhabitants of the world who seemed like children awakened from a nightmare. They fell to the earth trembling and weeping bitterly, pouring out tears for the suffering of endless lifetimes of wounds which they had felt but been unable to shed. The fits of tears consumed every soul, tears for the wasted years of pain, held inside. The pressure of tears uncried burst forth in a maelstrom. They let the tears flow desperately, cleansing them of what had been, as if without it they could never be whole again.


    Even upon the throne Moraithe and his companion felt the surge of overwhelming sorrow. The mourning for the lives these souls had been forced to live. Meaningless and empty lives, devoid of love and feeling. They despised what they had been forced to become, they despised it all.


    At last, he found her in the meadows nearby. He remembered how to call to her without a voice. ¡°Oh, Saffrael, I need you.¡±


    ¡°Then come walk with me in the meadow.¡±


    ¡°I cannot leave this place, though I yearn for it with all my soul.¡±


    ¡°Then I shall come to you.¡±


    ¡°Please hurry.¡±


    She broke into a desperate gait. Running until pain surged through her lungs, stabbed into her sides, and burnt through her limbs. Oh how he longed to run to meet her, but he was bound to the throne until Throm''tor had been brought to justice.


    As he awaited their reunion he turned back to Throm''tor, who remained bound by his lash but looked somehow more dangerous than ever. He must have a plan. But what was he waiting for? It was he who had taken Saffrael, who had denied him the sight of her sweet face or the sound of her silvery voice. He would be brought to justice for it, as he would for the suffering of this whole world.


    Moraithe began considering any possible way to bring Throm¡¯tor to justice as his gaze shifted about. Polishing rags discarded in heaps upon the floor, and golden platters, now spilled upon the stone in a spattering of finely seasoned and garnished courses, lay discarded by deliverance. The tears began to slow, a rumble of reunions filled the hall and the air rang with sudden laughter, some hesitating, others almost desperate.


    Outside the temple, children ran together playing, their lack of experience in games made up in eagerness. Girls gathered in knots chatting and giggling as naturally as a rose blooms in the sunlight. Others merely breathed slow, deliberate breaths; the air smelled somehow fresh and clean.


    Slowly, clouds gathered, the rolling churn of silver and gray blanketing the heavens, sprinkling rain as if its meager drizzle could wash away the pain of the earth itself, the pain of ten thousand years. Laughing and prancing men and women ran from the beautifully adorned bakeries, workshops, and night havens which dotted the land between mountains, forests, and vast, cascading waterscapes; out into the open where they skipped through the gathering rain. There they gathered under the dripping sky, opening their arms and raising their eyes toward the heavens exultantly.


    Running his fingers along the glassy arm of the throne Moraithe marveled at the detail hammered into the stone. The throne pulsed beneath his fingertips. He could feel the life beneath its surface.


    Without warning the glyph in Throm¡¯tor¡¯s hand flared as crippling pain exploded like thorny vines, knotting up and tearing wildly deep inside of him. And he realized too late what Throm¡¯tor had been waiting for, for his thoughts to drift as they had and his grip to weaken. Shrieking, he fell writhing from the throne. Horror flooded through his ringing senses.


    Throm¡¯tor suddenly lashed out with his scathe lash just as Norgoth found himself unprotected. In shock and surprise, Norgoth threw out a lash of power from the throne. Wielding it fitfully, desperately.


    Throm¡¯tor countered the power calmly and deftly. Then unexpectedly their lashes locked, tangling themselves together. Both reared back, jerking at their powers. But Norgoth, though unskilled, had the power of the throne, with a wrenching tug he rooted the scathe lash from Throm¡¯tor¡¯s very soul, scarring his mind in a way that could never be repaired or healed.


    Throm¡¯tor screamed with inhuman pain. Such a soul wound was permanent, he would never be able to control another soul with the scathe lash, not even in death. But he was still more powerful and dangerous than anyone cared to imagine.


    As Throm¡¯tor twisted about in pain, Moraithe¡¯s terror released him. And with all the strength he could muster, he groaned to his knees and clawed his way back into the throne.


    There was no longer any need to shield them from his scathe lash now that it had been rooted out. As Throm¡¯tor recovered from his loss, Moraithe gripped him in the power of the throne. He would feel all of what he had done. He would suffer the full weight of justice.


    Moraithe forced him to turn his own fear and hate upon himself. His glyph flared once more. Throm''tor writhed and contorted, shrieking like death itself, and as he trembled in pain, the earth began to shake as if it shared his pain. Finally, the storm ceased. Trembling, he crawled back to his knees, tears streaming down his rage-stricken face.


    Then, startlingly, his mask of fury split into a wicked smile. ¡°Yes. Feel the power, the absolute power. Control me, make me your slave, your puppet.¡± He spat blood at their feet as he paused. ¡°Already you are beginning to feel the power consume you. Yield to it, let it fill you with lust for more. Join me and we shall rule all. We shall make thrones and take all souls that all shall bow to us forever!¡± he roared in exultation.


    In sickened disgust, Moraithe pushed away the power, unable to bear such a thought. ¡°You seek to make us as yourself, you maggot. You cannot worm your way into our hearts this time.¡±


    Throm¡¯tor grimaced in anger. The spot of blood he¡¯d spit on the floor bulged and shivered, swelling and crackling until it formed into a great beast with many rows of sharp teeth. The beast roared and lunged to attack them. Together Moraithe and Norgoth reached out for its will only to find that it had no will at all. Throm¡¯tor, it was controlled by Throm¡¯tor. As the jaws closed about Norgoth, Moraithe snatched Throm¡¯tor¡¯s mind, stopping the beast.


    Then he turned the beast back upon its master. Let Throm''tor feel those teeth tear into him, let him feel the sting of justice.


    But as the beast turned, Norgoth snatched his arm urgently. ¡°No, wait.¡± The beast paused. Releasing his arm, Norgoth turned to Throm''tor. ¡°What is this beast?¡±


    Throm¡¯tor remained silent.


    ¡°What is it!¡± Norgoth roared as he gripped the throne about him and forced the truth from his lips.


    ¡°It is a shield. Once it consumes me even you could not reach my mind to control it. Surely you did not think me fool enough not to learn to protect myself from my own power?¡±


    ¡°Enough! Destroy it,¡± Norgoth commanded.


    Like vapors of mist, the beast evaporated and blew away.


    Throm''tor cared for nothing but himself. He would only continue scheming until he saw all people suffer with every pain he could inflict forever. Who knew what cunning device Throm¡¯tor would employ to regain the throne next? His scarred mind could still use the throne even if his scathe lash was gone forever. He had too many tricks, and they had nearly fallen already. Every moment they faced him they risked it all. He had to be destroyed, though he knew the sacrifice it would require and his heart strained at the weight of it.


    Just then, Saffrael burst into the room. Their eyes locked, speaking volumes. Her soft lips parted to speak.


    Throm¡¯tor lashed out at her with a bolt so bright that it tore into Saffrael¡¯s heart, bursting her chest, gushing sizzling blood before she toppled into a lifeless heap.


    Moraithe¡¯s heart screamed within him, a tortured, shrieking agony. His chest seemed to burst in time with hers, a throbbing of unbearable pain deep within the blistering char that was his broken heart. With all his strength, he clung to the throne to keep himself from falling to the earth and writhing along with the bystanders who¡¯d been caught in the blast.


    With burning tears streaming down his face, he locked the power so tightly upon Throm¡¯tor that he could neither move, nor breathe, nor even think without Moraithe allowing it. Then he prepared himself to give the command that would be his last.


    Smearing the tears across his cheeks, he looked around himself into the faces of those he had just saved, silently dooming them. They were his friends, his brothers and sisters. There was no way they could know the weight he felt. The burden of all their souls. The crushing weight of the decision overwhelmed him to the point of dragging him under. This was bigger than his life. It was more than all of their lives. But how could he bear to witness their deaths after Saffrael? How could he stand to slay them, even to save them?


    He could feel Norgoth beside him, his thoughts, his pain, as deep as his own. They knew that Throm¡¯tor must never get a hold of that power, no one must.


    One thought was all that kept him from slipping away in the pain of it all. One promise was all that could redeem him. I swear I will repay your deaths. Perhaps the thought had come from Norgoth, though he could not be certain with their minds linked so tightly as they were. He spoke the words softly, a whisper in the minds of all who cared to listen. I will see you reborn. I will see you to glory. I will guard you from tyranny forever more, I swear it!


    Then with a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes, he knew what he must do. Pushing past the lump he forced the words out, and together they gave the command that would doom them all.


    Their anguished voices rose as one. ¡°Throm¡¯tor, we mete justice upon you this day. Break the glyph and yield it to us.¡±


    He snarled and gnashed his teeth in response to the command.


    Moraithe¡¯s will tightened around him like an iron vise. He had bound so many before, crushed their thoughts, reshaped their very identities¡­ and now it was happening to him.


    ¡°No,¡± he snarled, struggling against the force pressing him to his knees. ¡°I am the master here! I¡ª¡±


    His body obeyed a will that was not his own. Moraithe forced him to reach for the glyph, to rip it from his own flesh, to destroy himself. A fate he had inflicted on countless others.


    As his fingers moved against his own will, his laughter turned to a rasping breath of disbelief. ¡°So ¡­ this is what it feels like ¡­¡±


    Fighting every motion his claws flared from his fingertips, and he tore into his right hand digging out the glyph. Rending bloodless flesh, his hand was shredded into a mess of pale filleted gore. He tore deeply with the snapping of hollow veins, ligament, and sinew, baring bones, splintering them, and tearing them away at the joints to get to the glyph¡ªred with an incandescent glow like blazing iron from the forge. With harsh curses, he tore the glyph free.


    ¡°Break it,¡± they commanded as one.


    Disregarding his useless carnage of a hand Throm¡¯tor clenched the glyph in his snarling teeth, and prying with his good hand snapped it in half.


    As the glyph cracked, Throm¡¯tor¡¯s sneer faltered. His fingers trembled, clutching at the broken fragments as if he could piece them back together.


    ¡°No¡­ I control this world! I built it!¡± His voice, once thundering with power, cracked into something small¡ªsomething almost human.


    But the laws of reality no longer bent for him. The ground beneath him swallowed his words, and as his body dissolved into nothing, his final, ragged whisper carried on the wind.


    ¡°Nothing can stop me¡­¡± And he was utterly destroyed, body and soul.


    Suddenly the earth reeled and shook in a violent wave of stone and earth, heaving as in the throes of death, tossing them all like sailors in a storm. They braced themselves against the quake, though many stumbled to the floor. Golden platters rolled and clattered. Some of those nearby slipped upon the food spattered and smeared upon the floor, falling splayed out upon the stone.


    With the last of their strength, Moraithe and Norgoth turned the throne upon itself and tore it asunder. Thousands of raving souls screamed forth, blazing with a rage that burnt them to the bone, incinerating their flesh with an anger this world had never before known. A rage even Elithir would scarcely have stood against.


    The earth shuddered more violently, rolling in waves, stone heaved and splintered, the world over. The temple trembled, but its walls held strong. Across the sweeping landscape, writhing bodies tumbled through the air howling in pain as shafts of splintering stone burst through the ground and tossed them like worn-out polishing rags.


    The temple lurched to the side. With charred limbs, Moraithe tumbled from the broken throne, flailing for purchase on something, anything. His hand caught Norgoth¡¯s robes. Norgoth shouted as his arm slipped from the sleeve and he gripped the throne, wrapping the stone form of the enchantress about the waist, with his other arm he reached for Moraithe. But a body tumbled past knocking Moraithe away.


    He slid into the throng of flailing bodies. A cloud of severed souls from the throne surged toward him, blazing with a rage that blackened his flesh, curling his limbs into uselessness.


    The dead and dying littered the temple floor. The severed souls snatched upon those bodies, fueling and animating them with their anger.


    Lesions blanched from his skin and his blood streaked the stone as he struggled for purchase on the ever-shifting scape. He slid past Saffrael¡¯s limp and mangled form and he grasped her to him with all of his strength.


    With a tremendous blast, the world cracked and shattered, laying bare the incandescent glow of molten earth-blood between the fissures.


    The living dead swarmed him with their anger. Blasting and clawing in marrow-deep lesions, bursting his skin. A cacophony of tortured screams rent the now hazy air, as molten rock blazed across the land. It was the last gasp of the world, spewing the last of its glowing, red lifeblood in a final blinding flash.


    Moraithe gasped as he recalled his death. His breath hitched as his vision swam, the blinding chaos of memory giving way to the dim, shifting light of the present. His hands trembled, still feeling the phantom weight of Saffrael¡¯s lifeless body in his arms. The ground beneath him was level¡ªbut for a moment, he had been falling.


    He exhaled shakily, forcing his hands to unclench. ¡°That ¡­ that was real.¡±


    Elithir¡¯s voice cut through the haze. ¡°You remember now.¡±


    ¡°All those souls Throm¡¯tor had trapped were unleashed.¡±


    Elithir nodded. ¡°After eons of enslavement and torture. They seek only to inflict on men what they have suffered.¡±


    ¡°And so the war began.¡± He looked up at Elithir. ¡°That¡¯s why I have to stop the Severed. I released them. It¡¯s my fault. So I¡¯ll become strong enough to stop them.¡± He struggled to hold back tears. ¡°But I am so weak. I nearly died, but gratitude healed me, and I found Norgoth and Saffrael¡¯s bodies and healed them with it.¡±


    Elithir patted his back, gently. ¡°There is no growth without resistance.¡±


    ¡°You said that before.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s as true now as ever.¡± He lifted a hand toward Moraithe as if feeling the heat coming off of him. ¡°Would you care to know?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Your self-assurance has risen considerably. You measured fourteen before. Now it is seven thousand four hundred and thirty-two. You blew right past soldier and captain ranks and now measure well into the rank of master.¡±


    Moraithe turned to Elithir, stunned. ¡°Where can I get more of those memories?¡±


    ¡°I suspect fragments of them were scattered here upon the ruin of Throm¡¯tor¡¯s world.¡±


    Moraithe looked across the tumultuous land. ¡°Yet even with your power, you can¡¯t find them?¡±


    ¡°They are your memories. They do not resonate with me. But if you train here, perhaps you will stumble across some fragments.¡±


    The land shuddered again, the earth beneath them groaning as if to prove a point. Moraithe stood tall, trembling but resolute, the weight of Elithir¡¯s words grounding him. ¡°I will find a way. This is my war to end. I¡¯ll get strong enough to shatter them all, as I shattered Throm¡¯tor.¡±


    ¡°A bold dream. But will you have time?¡± The land beneath their feet began to sputter, but Elithir brushed it aside with a wave of his hand. ¡°While you grow they are enacting their own plans, some of which could spell the end of all you or I know. Some could even set us all back to little more than we were in the beginning, minds who know of nothing but ourselves.¡±


    ¡°If I gave you all my gratitude you could stand against them. You could break them.¡±


    ¡°My path takes me another way. We all get to choose. Else what is the purpose of our core selves, our minds?¡±


    ¡°Then what is your plan?¡±


    Elithir laughed. ¡°Oh, how refreshing. I have told no one yet, but I intend to entangle myself across all time, unto the end of eternity.¡±


    ¡°And you call me bold.¡±


    Elithir chuckled. ¡°It would be nice to see your progress in action. Why don¡¯t you show us the power of your entanglements now.¡±


    Moraithe nocked an arrow. But as he did he realized that the runic key he¡¯d entangled to a bolder had now expanded far beyond the bolder, to encompass a considerable swath of land. He drew the bow and fired. His timing with the entanglement was perfect. The arrow blasted into the side of a nearby mountain causing it to topple and spew forth a spout of lava.


    ¡°Woah! Did you see that?¡±


    Elithir only chortled and clapped him on the back.

 As Chaos Reigns

    <blockquote>[First Era (War Year 4)]</blockquote>


    Moraithe''s boots hit the ground with a rhythmic thud as he sprinted across the unstable landscape, each step sending vibrations through the cracked earth beneath him. This world, known as The Faint for its dim burnt yellow sun, was alive and chaotic. It was a volatile storm of mountains rising and sinking, valleys collapsing into sinkholes as the mithsyrium caused the world to boil and churn. He couldn''t have run at a third of this speed before reaching the rank of master.


    Shore and Break, arcshell golems he''d brought to this world and trained, ran alongside him. They¡¯d grown thigh high now, leathery, scurrying creatures with barbed tails and flat shells upon their backs. Shore dove into the earth becoming one with it like the mithsyrium that ran in her blood. Break jumped into a vein of mithsyrium, and he began lapping it up, greedily.


    With a sharp intake of breath, Moraithe drew an arrow from his quiver, his fingers steady despite the pounding of his feet. The arrow tip shimmered in the dim light, its steel vibrating with potential. He sighted down the arrow as he prepared his mind for the entanglement.


    A mountain jutted into his path, but he had a runic key entangled with the mass of his own mountain. He loosed. It flew true, streaking across the turbulent air like a bolt of lightning. He focused on the arrow''s tip, envisioning the force of a mountain''s mass binding to it precisely as it struck, merging with the arrow''s as if they were one. With a final, desperate mental lunge, he snapped the entanglement into place. The arrow shuddered, its weight becoming an immutable force¡ªimmense and terrifying¡ªboring through the mountain.


    When the dust cleared, a tunnel gaped open straight through the rock.


    His hand began to shake, a cold sweat beading on his forehead as the mental strain grew from another entanglement. After so many miles of this, the entropy of each entanglement surged as his mind fought to contain the mounting chaos. He breathed, working through the running meditation to restore order to his mind. For only the will of a living soul could reverse entropy.


    Steady ¡­ just a little more ¡­


    The ground trembled beneath him as the land groaned and shifted. The mithsyrium was relentless. It fed and pushed, rearranging the earth with terrifying speed, but now, at least, the path was clear. Shore emerged from the ground and ran forward, testing the tunnel alongside Break. Moraithe followed close behind.


    They moved quickly. Moraithe''s breath labored as he raced forward, emerging to search for another obstacle. The world seemed to tremble and twist, as if in response to his actions, but he ignored it. There was no time to slow down. Every moment mattered.


    Suddenly the ground began to buckle beneath him. It was a sinkhole. He whistled. Break and Shore dove into the earth only to come up one under each foot as the earth collapsed. He leaped from the hard carapace of one back to the other, spanning the gap of collapsing earth. He rolled, and his pets emerged from the earth alongside him.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± He patted them each in turn, then continued his run.


    He''d managed to clear some of the chaos in his mind by the time he reached the next obstacle¡ªa towering cliff, cracked and veined with swirling veins of mithsyrium, its presence causing the air to feel thick and heavy.


    Without hesitation, he reached into his pouch and drew forth a rock. This would hold his salt entanglement. It was some time into his training on this world that he had finally discovered it. Salt resisted mithsyrium. It could push away the strange substance. And this rock was entangled with a runic key that he''d placed on an entire mound of salt he''d discovered. He hefted the rock in his palm, then with a practiced throw he flung the rock at the veins of mithsyrium.


    Moraithe''s focus sharpened as he cast the entanglement. His mind flickered with the feedback from the earth¡ªthe pulsing mithsyrium trying to resist, as though the earth itself were alive, angry, and pushing back at his every effort.


    He struggled to maintain his focus, feeling his mind strain under the weight of the entanglement¡ªthe entropy. He had to be careful¡ªhe couldn''t let the chaos overwhelm him. The salt entanglement wrung the mithsyrium from the cliff, making it sure and stable while the ground below shot up under the splash of the mithsyrium.


    Break clicked in pain as he stepped on the salt-entangled earth. ¡°Careful¡± Moraithe called, and Shore dove aside to avoid it.


    Pillars of earth sprang up in the wake of the mithsyrium. He flung himself over the edge of the cliff, deftly leaping from one jutting spike of earth to another until he reached level ground.


    Methodically, he carved a safe path through the chaos both physically and mentally.


    His body shuddered as every strand of entropy pushed his limits, twisted his perception. And he knew he was growing stronger. But he held on, his eyes and senses scanning for the thing he was truly seeking¡ªfragments of his lost memories.


    The land before him boiled with an unsettling ferocity. This time he would freeze the path forward. He''d set the runic key for this entanglement in the cold depths of space. He loosed another arrow, and as it struck he entangled the earth, freezing it in place, forcing it to hold firm, and it held.


    Moraithe let out a shaky breath, relieved for a moment, despite the increased entropy. He had cleared the path. For now.


    Each entanglement took more from him, but it also pushed his limits, made him stronger.


    Elithir had told him that since he was merely regaining power he had lost, his training would help him progress much faster than normal. Already in one year, he''d gained nearly two hundred self-assurance, vastly exceeding his expectations. But still no fragments of his memories.


    Moraithe''s senses flared as he moved across the cracked landscape. The tug in his chest¡ªfaint, but unmistakable¡ªgrew stronger with each step. It wasn''t just the earth that called to him now. Something beneath it, buried in the chaos of mithsyrium, resonated with his blood. A fragment of his past teased across his senses. It would not hold still, the mithsyrium pushing and pulling with its relentless hunger, hiding what he sought beneath layers of ever-changing rock.


    He stopped and whistled to Break and Shore, standing at the edge of a chasm that opened up near his feet. The ground ahead was dark with the deep presence of mithsyrium¡ªa thick, blackened mass, swirling and pulsing like the belly of some great beast. He could feel its power tugging at the ground around him, threatening to swallow him whole if he stepped too close.


    The pulse in his chest was growing stronger. He was close. He could feel it.


    With a sharp intake, Moraithe blew out a deep, steadying breath. He would have to push back the mithsyrium¡ªhold it at bay long enough to reach whatever lay beneath. He could feel the pull of his memory, a faint whisper now, beneath all the chaos.


    He reached into his pouch and withdrew another stone he''d prepared for a salt entanglement. It glinted faintly in the dim light. He needed to stabilize this chunk of earth, so the memory wouldn''t slip away. Hopefully, that would create an island within a circle of mithsyrium which would allow the piece holding his memory to move freely.


    Moraithe dropped the stone and whistled. Shore leaped on the stone, snatching it in her jaws and boring it down into the earth. He waited for her to emerge before he focused, sharpening his will to cast the entanglement. The entropy it brought pressed against him like a weight, but he fought to hold it back, keeping it from flooding his mind.


    Focus, focus ¡­


    The land groaned beneath him as the salt began to resonate. He could feel it¡ªlike a low hum, a connection that reached deep into the earth itself. The mithsyrium resisted, but the salt pushed back, flexing against the pressure.


    Moraithe gritted his teeth, his mind fighting against the rising entropy. Chaos. It was all slipping through his thoughts as he held the entanglement together, anchoring the salt''s power to the rock, wringing out the mithsyrium. Slowly, the land began to shift¡ªhe whistled for Shore and Break, pouring thoughts into their mind, asking them to dive under the rock and push it up through the ground.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    They dove in.


    Slowly, carefully, it began to rise. The earth trembled as though holding its breath.


    He clenched the entanglement, feeling the entropy in his mind tighten. The ground shuddered, and with an audible crack, a piece of land, heavy with rock and trapped earth, lifted slowly from the morass. It groaned in protest, its surface straining under the shifting pressure. Moraithe called Break and Shore out, then with a great surge he expanded the entanglement, pushing the mithsyrium far back into the earth.


    Relaxing, he let it go. Under the pressure the ground cracked open, revealing layers of ancient stone and debris¡ªlayers that had been long untouched.


    With a deep, labored breath, he knelt, wiping sweat from his brow. His mind was in chaos, but the land was stable.


    Moraithe drew a sword from his belt, then prepared one more entanglement. Holding the blade high overhead, he slammed it into the earth, entangling the weight of a mountain. Chips of stone and dust exploded as it cracked open.


    He wedged himself into the crack and found himself close, so close to a fragment of his past. He lifted the blade once more and plunged it into the exposed rock, chiseling away at the layers of stone. His hands worked quickly but carefully, the blade scraping against the hard surface. As he dug deeper, he felt it¡ªthe pulse again, more distinct now, thrumming through his fingertips as he scraped the earth away.


    Finally, his hand hit something solid, something different. He paused, heart racing, as he brushed away the last of the grit. There, nestled in the rocky layers, was a small fragment¡ªshimmering faintly with an inner light. He felt the connection, the energy that tied it to him.


    His breath caught in his throat as he held it in his palm, his fingers trembling. It was a shard of memory, a fragment that had been lost deep beneath the surface. As he held it, a flood of sensations crashed into him¡ªfamiliar sights, sounds, and a face he couldn''t quite name¡ªbut the emotions tied to it were undeniable. A warmth, a sense of safety, a moment of peace in a life long forgotten.


    He held out the fragment to Shore and Break, letting them sniff it, resonate with its aura, then he entangled that memory into them, sealing it so they would always remember, so they would know what to look for. Then he sent them off to hunt through the earth for more of them. Hopefully, being able to plum the depths of this world, dive into it, they would be able to delve more thoroughly than he ever had.


    Moraithe held the memory fragment close, and began to consume its essence. His heart ached as he felt a tear slip from his eye, his body shaking from the weight of the memories flooding back. He wasn''t sure what he had found, but he knew it was a piece of the life he had once lived.


    He saw his mother, her warmth, living there upon a star, amid love so bright that it shone out to fill the universe with light. He had lived upon the First Star. It had once been his home. And he longed to reach it once more. That moment he vowed to himself he would work until he stood upon the First Star and inscribed a runic key upon it, to tie him to that place forevermore.


    Now, he looked within himself and saw nearly a thousand more self-assurance shining from his aura. His self-assurance now measured eight thousand five hundred and twenty-four. He was nearing the knight rank. Oh, how glorious that would be.


    * * *


    After so long beneath the dim burnt yellow sun of The Faint, it was strange, almost unsettling to stand in the light of a sun so bright. This was a true star, unlike the dim counterfeit Throm¡¯tor had made for his world, his was a counterfeit that unlike a true star was slowly burning out. True stars reveal greater truth, under it¡¯s light his knowledge and self-assurance would surely grow faster. It hung low over the training grounds, its golden light shimmering off the rows of soldiers practicing their formations. The distant hum of bowstrings and the clash of practice blades filled the air.


    Elithir walked with purposeful strides, his tall, commanding presence making the surrounding soldiers instinctively straighten their postures. Beside him, Moraithe followed, his youthful face a mix of determination and curiosity.


    Elithir''s gaze swept over the grounds, taking in the precision of the drills. ¡°You''ve seen battle before, Moraithe,¡± he began, his voice rich with authority, ¡°but it is different among the ranks of an army. I want you to see how things are done. Get a taste of pitched battle.¡±


    Moraithe nodded thoughtfully, watching a group of soldiers break into an intense sparring match. The thuds of entangled weapons striking bright shields reverberated through the air. ¡°It will be a good opportunity to see how my training has progressed.¡±


    There was pride in Elithir''s expression, but also a cool, calculating edge. ¡°Precisely. But I don''t intend to leave you here for long. This is just a taste.¡±


    Moraithe smirked. ¡°What will it be next, training in a volcano?¡±


    Elithir chuckled, the sound deep, almost regal. ¡°I have something quite a bit more cerebral in mind.¡±


    Moraithe raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°Really?¡±


    The Infinite''s eyes gleamed with something akin to a quiet excitement. ¡°I''ve been considering a new sort of unit¡ªespionage. But it will be a unique force, an elite unit with one particular advantage. I want you to each craft yourselves a second body.¡±


    Moraithe stopped walking, blinking as he processed the words. ¡°A second body?¡± He looked his father over, searching for any sign that he was joking. But Elithir''s expression remained as still and commanding as ever.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Elithir replied, his tone leaving no room for uncertainty.


    Moraithe''s mind raced as he processed the implications. ¡°And just how do you expect me to control two bodies?¡± His voice had a faint edge of disbelief.


    Elithir slowed his pace, allowing Moraithe to catch up. ¡°Not at the same time, of course, but while you are sleeping in one body you control the other. You alternate. Imagine the advantages.¡±


    Moraithe paused, looking out over the vast training grounds, his thoughts drifting. ¡°Two appearances could be useful for espionage, I suppose.¡±


    Elithir gave a small nod, his tone low but filled with conviction. ¡°Not only that, but it opens possibilities for communication, being in two places at once. And if you are caught or killed in one body, the other will remain untouched. You won''t be lost, nor will anything you''ve uncovered.¡±


    The idea took root in Moraithe''s mind, growing steadily as he mulled over the potential. ¡°It''s ¡­ clever. I''ll admit, the thought of having a backup is appealing.¡± He glanced toward the horizon as if envisioning the possibilities. ¡°Have you asked Saffrael and Norgoth? It would be nice if we could work together on this.¡±


    Elithir''s lips curled into a rare smile. ¡°An excellent suggestion. I''ve come up with a name for it¡ªthose who live two lives¡ªDrackmoor.¡±


    Moraithe''s eyes glinted with a mix of excitement and challenge. ¡°Drackmoor ¡­ I''ll look forward to it.¡± He turned his gaze back to the soldiers training, then exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing. ¡°But, I suppose I''ll have to focus on this for now.¡±


    Elithir''s smile widened slightly. ¡°Yes. For now, let us see how well you fare with the army. And remember, the battlefield is only the beginning of what you will face. The real test is yet to come.¡±


    As they walked back toward the center of the training grounds, the hum of bowstrings and the clang of metal filled the air, but in Moraithe''s mind, something else was stirring¡ªa new path, a new challenge, and a new destiny in the making.


    They stopped before a solid-looking man in a red cloak. ¡°This will be your commander.¡± Elithir turned toward the man. ¡°Welthorne, here is your new recruit. Use him well.¡±


    Elithir began to turn away. But Moraithe stopped him. ¡°By the way, how much gratitude do you recommend for battle?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you know you have enough.¡±


    Moraithe chuckled. ¡°I mean for them.¡±


    ¡°Two thousand is the traditional recommendation.¡± Elithir''s brow furrowed. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°I just want to understand my brothers in arms.¡±


    Elithir clapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Very good. Consider what you want your new body to look like while I am gone.¡±


    Moraithe nodded, and with a wink, Elithir vanished.


    He stood at the edge of the camp, heart pounding in his chest. Then he followed the commander to join his unit.


    He''d thought little of it, until now, standing before his comrades. They were preparing for their next campaign, and the weight of their potential struggle hung heavy in the air.


    Moraithe stepped forward. His fellow soldiers, tired and worn, exchanged glances. They didn''t know what to expect from him¡ªa fresh recruit from who knew where.


    After a few exercises, they were released. And Moraithe began to mingle with his brothers in arms. He introduced himself and learned their names. Then, to each he extended his hand, a shimmer of silver light flowed from his chest, pooling in the air, a soft glow illuminating each face. He gave them a gift of gratitude. There in his hand, it felt like warmth, like a comforting embrace, but more¡ªinfinitely more. ¡°To protect you in battle,¡± was all he said.


    The soldiers'' eyes widened as the sensation surged into their very bones, like a second skin of protection.


    One by one, he approached each soldier offering them a tiny fraction of his infinite wealth. Their gratitude toward him radiated in waves, mingling with his own, replenishing the endless well he held inside. They walked away, lighter, more certain, their heads raised high, almost glowing with the ethereal power of his gift.


    He didn''t stop at his own unit. As the days passed, he slowly worked his way through the army. How could he let anyone fall if he could so easily protect them?


    At first, everything seemed perfect. The army was prepared, their protection strong. But as the days wore on, Moraithe began to notice the murmurs¡ªsoft at first, growing louder.


    ¡°Did you hear? Gratitude''s being handed out like it''s nothing. Prices are rising in the market.¡±


    ¡°I saw a merchant this morning¡ªhe nearly doubled the cost of armor! Said there was too much gratitude going around.¡±


    Moraithe''s heart sank. He had never intended for his gift to be used like this, as money, he''d only wanted to protect them.


    He wandered to the market, where voices were growing more heated. Merchants haggled, their eyes glinting with sharp calculation. The prices of food, armor, and supplies had skyrocketed. He overheard one grizzled vendor laughing as he struck a deal, ¡°The more gratitude there is, the more we can charge.¡±


    Soldiers were growing angry as the merchant''s greed grew.


    Moraithe stood frozen, the weight of his mistake settling on his shoulders like a heavy cloak. His gift, once pure, had been tainted by greed. His heart burned with shame.


    Moraithe cursed at himself. ¡°I can''t let gratitude become a weapon.¡±


    And so, he walked away, knowing that he had much to learn¡ªabout generosity, about his responsibility, and the proper use of power.

 Drackmoor Rise

    <blockquote>[First Era (War Year 6)]</blockquote>


    Nearly a year later Moraithe sat quietly on the edge of Saffrael''s bed, watching over her sleeping body, or at least one of them. His gaze fixed on the map of this laboratory where they researched new weapons for the war. The soft hum of strange entanglements echoed down the corridors. The faint glow of light globes barely traced the growing tension in his heart. He felt Saffrael''s presence¡ªboth comforting and distant¡ªher consciousness, a universe away, traversing the grand library of Sidren while he was here, trying to extract a different kind of truth.


    He blinked, shifting focus back to the task at hand. The map was clear, showing the section of the facility where the new crystals were being developed. In Moraithe''s current body, he was acting the part of a researcher sent by a powerful lord, just another cog in the massive military machine, asking just enough questions to avoid suspicion.


    He and Saffrael had been inserted here as spies, part of the network of drackmoor agents spread across the galaxies, each partnered with another. It allowed them to create an information chain of sorts, passing news and knowledge from one to another, body to body, partner to partner. Their shared understanding aided to synchronize their efforts, making them far more effective than any lone operative.


    Saffrael awoke and sat up, rubbing her eyes. ¡°I wish I could have spent more time there.¡±


    Moraithe looked up from the map. ¡°Learning important things?¡±


    ¡°Mostly, this body is just tired. Too many brief rests, not enough actual sleep.¡±


    ¡°Did you find any information about it?¡± There was something unsettling in the air.


    ¡°It''s not easy sneaking into the command researcher''s study. Seems like they''re pushing the new crystals into production faster than expected,¡± Saffrael''s voice cut through his thoughts, a whispering hum in his mind. ¡°I''ve just overheard some senior officers discussing it¡ªthere''s disagreement about its safety. Not everyone trusts the entropy crystals. Some generals think the cost of storing entropy in them will be too high.¡±


    ¡°The general''s concerns could be valid. The power to remove entropy from the mind of a person¡ªwhat if it falls into enemy hands? That would be dangerous. Yet if the crystals work as expected, it could change the war.¡± Moraithe''s lips tightened. ¡°Is there any indication of our mole?¡±


    ¡°Not yet, but I''ll dig deeper.¡± Saffrael rubbed her temples. ¡°Something feels off. One of the researchers may be playing both sides, and I''m getting the sense they''re more than just a pawn.¡±


    He shook his head, trying to refocus. Too many threads. Too many risks.


    Now it was Moraithe''s turn to lay on the bed, while Saffrael watched over him.


    Switching from one body to the next was never easy, and it wasn''t just the physical disorientation. It was the mental shift that shook him, the sudden flood of different sensations, the disconnect between two places¡ªtwo versions of himself, switching goals and personalities to fit the mission.


    He closed his eyes, and in the blink of an eye, he was no longer in the research laboratory, but underwater in a dimly lit chamber aboard a Severed vessel, breathing through a snogbreather he''d attached to his face. Its tentacles stuck to his face with dozens of suckers firmly attaching the creature to his skin as it pulsated, sucking in water and filtering out air for him to breathe.


    These bubble vessels always felt so small and crowded. It wasn''t exactly small, composed of tens of thousands of chambers, enough to fit an entire Severed army. But it didn''t even compare with a world, or even a small moon. Perhaps it was more that he felt trapped here¡ªsurrounded by the Severed and those who had allied themselves with them¡ªwith nowhere to run, only the bleak void of space outside the translucent walls of the bubble. At least he wasn''t completely alone, not with Norgoth to keep him company.


    To be inside such a strange slimy, water-filled plant floating through space was nerve-wracking, but to do it while breathing underwater was so much worse. He understood that stead, they were filled with water, which also allowed those inside to swim around, rather than aimlessly drifting as things did in space.


    Moraithe and Norgoth floated at the edge of the council room. The shadows of his pretended allies flickered through the dim bioluminescent glow. The Severed leaders, their bodies like twisted patches of darkness and death sewn together with cursed threads, studied him with cold, hollow eyes. Their voices reverberated in the air, ancient and chilling.


    One of the Severed swam forward, a towering figure with a body made of flesh and metal, his face a patchwork of twisted, decayed human features. Even through the strange distortion of the water, his voice was grating, as though every word had been shaved from metal. ¡°The time has come to test your loyalty,¡± he said, his hollow gaze narrowing. ¡°You have been useful, but we need to know where your true loyalties lie.¡±


    The second Severed leader, a woman whose translucent skin shimmered with an eerie, otherworldly glow, spoke next. Her eyes burned with an unnatural light. ¡°A village on the edge of Orsis,¡± she said, her voice like the hiss of a serpent. ¡°We will see how far you''re willing to go. Go there, and eliminate every soul. Show us your resolve. Only then will we know you are truly one of us.¡±


    Moraithe''s breath caught in his chest. Innocents!? The thought of killing the innocent just to prove their loyalty sent a chill down his spine. His body stiffened, but he knew there was no turning back now. The Severed''s gaze was upon him. He had to act, but he would not¡ªcould not¡ªfollow their orders as they expected. He would find a way to save them.


    Here in this place, where sound reverberated to the very edge of the bubble, it was impossible to communicate with Norgoth any secrets whatsoever. Rather they''d been forced to use the chain of drackmoor to relay messages from partner to partner, body to body, the entire way around the chain until they came back around to one another in their other bodies. Only then could they avoid suspicion under such conditions as these.


    As the Severed leaders withdrew to discuss their next move, Moraithe knew he had to make his way back to his sleeping cell. It helped that people slept at all hours in these strange conditions. But he needed to find a safe place to sleep and return to Saffrael. When he arrived at his chamber, he leaned against the wall and felt a shift¡ªa jolt¡ªas his mind flickered, the familiar sensation of switching between his bodies.


    Within moments, he was sitting up beside Saffrael in their quiet room, down the corridor of the research facility, a place that hummed with the secrets of war. He sucked in a deep lungful of air, finally able to truly breathe once more. But the heavy weight of the task he''d been given lingered in his chest.


    Saffrael looked at him, sensing his tension. ¡°What did they want?¡±


    Moraithe''s jaw clenched. ¡°They want us to kill ¡­ innocents. A village on the edge of Orsis. They want to see if we will obey without hesitation. If we do, they will trust us. But I won''t do it, Saffrael. I refuse.¡±


    Her eyes softened, understanding flashing across her face. ¡°Then we need to do something about it. You have a plan?¡±


    He nodded, his gaze distant as he thought through the details. ¡°I do. But it requires all of us¡ªyour revenescent and my entanglement. And I''ll need to get a message down the chain to Norgoth.¡±


    Saffrael tilted her head. ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°We''ll fire arrows,¡± Moraithe said, taking a deep breath. ¡°Each one will be entangled with your revenescent, pulling the innocents inside. They''ll vanish without a trace. A second entanglement will leave behind a crater where they stood, to make it seem like we followed through on our orders.¡±


    Saffrael''s brow furrowed as she processed the plan. ¡°You''ll make them disappear into my revenescent? All of them?¡±


    Moraithe nodded, the weight of his words heavy on his tongue. ¡°Yes. They will be safe. No harm will come to them.¡±


    Saffrael momentarily hesitated, her mind whirling as she weighed the risks. ¡°And the Severed won''t know?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Moraithe said firmly. ¡°They''ll see the craters, the devastation. They''ll think we did what they asked. But we will have saved every one of them. Norgoth needs to know the plan. I''ll make up a bundle of arrows for him as well. I''ll hide them ¡­ where? Do you know that village?¡±


    ¡°No, but Ranth is nearby in one of his bodies. I''ll talk to him, we''ll figure out a good place, and relay the information to both you and Norgoth.¡±


    He realized his hands were trembling. Saffrael threw her arms around him. ¡°Everything will be okay, even when you think it won''t.¡±


    And he melted into her embrace. ¡°What makes you say that?¡±


    ¡°Elithir and all the souls that shine from ten thousand stars, they will light the way.¡±


    * * *


    The flickering light of lanterns bathed the laboratory in a soft, eerie glow. The air hummed with the low murmur of sealed entanglements and the scratch of quills on parchment. Tall shelves lined with strange apparatus and containers held the bizarre experiments of the researchers who worked here ¡ª all of them brilliant minds, each one focused on their own secretive project.


    Moraithe adjusted the collar of his cloak, his sharp eyes scanning the room. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a presence that commanded attention without needing to raise his voice. By his side, Saffrael moved with the fluid grace of a shadow, her dark eyes scanning each of the researchers as they passed by. Her beauty, coupled with her intelligence, often made her seem enigmatic. Together, they were a perfect pair¡ªsharp, strategic, and now, on a covert mission.


    Their task was clear¡ªidentify the betrayer.


    ¡°I don''t like it,¡± Saffrael whispered under her breath as they passed a workbench cluttered with glowing crystal fragments. ¡°The Severed have gotten too close to some of our secrets.¡±


    Moraithe''s jaw tightened. ¡°We''ll find out who. Stay alert.¡±


    They approached the first suspect. Shran, hunched over a table in the far corner of the lab. The space around him was cluttered with ancient tomes, fragile and yellowed with age, and his face was set with intense concentration. He barely looked up when they approached, his gaze fixed on the pages before him.


    ¡°Ah, Shran,¡± Moraithe began, his voice purposefully light. ¡°What are you working on? Anything interesting?¡±


    Shran''s sharp eyes flicked up to meet Moraithe''s, and a cold, calculating expression crossed his face. He quickly closed one of the books with a snap, his fingers lingering just a moment too long on the fragile cover. ¡°Nothing of concern,¡± he said, his voice clipped and guarded. ¡°Just some research. Old texts. They have ¡­ historical value.¡±


    Moraithe studied him closely. ¡°Old texts? Interesting. What exactly are you looking for?¡±


    For the briefest moment, Moraithe saw the flicker of something like suspicion pass through Shran''s eyes. He sat back, closing his arms protectively around the books on his desk as if guarding them from prying eyes.


    ¡°I''d appreciate it if you''d keep your distance, Moraithe,¡± Shran said, his voice tightening. ¡°These are private matters. Research that doesn''t concern you.¡±


    Saffrael raised an eyebrow.


    Moraithe took a slow step forward, his eyes narrowing. ¡°We heard you were working on some kind of scrying device, something about entangling dragonflies. Is that what this is?¡±


    Shran stiffened, and for a moment, there was an unsettling silence. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he reached for one of the books with deliberate slowness, as if to put distance between himself and their questions.


    ¡°Why don''t you leave me to my work?¡± he said, his voice suddenly icy, his tone unyielding.


    He didn''t want them anywhere near his research. There was something off about his entire demeanor now¡ªtoo defensive, too guarded.


    Saffrael took a subtle step back, glancing at Moraithe. Her voice was quieter, but still cutting. ¡°We''re only trying to help.¡±


    Shran didn''t respond. He was already focused back on his books, not acknowledging them further. But as Moraithe and Saffrael turned to leave, Moraithe couldn''t shake the feeling that Shran was hiding something far deeper than just old records.


    They found Karthiim''s workstation in a chamber containing several other researchers, a tall, brooding man whose dark eyes glinted with the sort of ambition that made people uneasy. He was examining a rev crystal, its edges flickering with strange, otherworldly light. The crystal seemed to pulse like a heartbeat, its aura reverberating throughout the room.


    ¡°Ah, Moraithe, Saffrael,¡± Karthiim greeted them with a nod, his voice tinged with an odd sense of both welcome and distance. ¡°Come to see my work, I assume?¡±


    ¡°I hear it''s one of the more promising projects,¡± Moraithe said, stepping closer. ¡°A gateway into a shared warehouse. So this is the famous rev crystal.¡±


    Karthiim''s eyes gleamed as he held up the crystal, his fingers tracing its intricate carvings. ¡°I hope not too famous. We don''t want the Severed to learn of it, after all.¡±


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    ¡°It''s a rather simple idea, isn''t it?¡± Saffrael asked, her voice as smooth as silk, but her eyes sharp.


    Karthiim smirked, his lips curling into something like a sneer. ¡°Most of the best ideas are. The greatest difficulty has been security. Logistically, it is quite powerful, but it opens us up to quite the vulnerability.¡±


    ¡°Is this a true revenescent, or something artificial?¡±


    ¡°Neither would impact the security of the design.¡± He made a dismissive gesture, clearly unimpressed by their questions.


    Moraithe narrowed his eyes. There was something ¡­ off about him.


    As they turned to leave, they were met by Barthum, the kind, mousy researcher who always seemed to have a perpetual smile plastered to his face. He looked up from a cluttered table filled with entropy crystals¡ªsmooth, faceted stones with a faint shimmer.


    ¡°Moraithe, Saffrael! I was hoping you''d drop by.¡± Barthum''s voice was always soothing, the kind of voice you trusted without question. ¡°Come tell me what you think of these entropy crystals. They are meant to store entropy as other crystals store anger and fear. Of course, I''ve still got a long way to go, even though they''re already pushing for production.¡±


    ¡°That sounds promising,¡± Saffrael said, her smile genuine. ¡°I''ve heard many good things about your work, Barthum.¡±


    Barthum''s eyes sparkled with excitement. ¡°Come look. Tell me if you have any thoughts.¡±


    Moraithe examined the crystal. There seemed to be strange patterns within them as if mimicking something familiar. ¡°Why does it seem so ¡­¡±


    His thoughts started to drift back to his visit to the First Star, but he shook away the memory before he could get lost in reverie. The pattern was so familiar. ¡°Is it a prison of light?¡±


    Barthum''s eye bulged. ¡°What did you say?¡±


    ¡°It reminds me of an all-consuming light from my past.¡±


    ¡°Brilliant!¡± Barthum threw his arms around him in a sudden embrace. ¡°You are a genius.¡± He turned to his papers and began scribbling. ¡°This could increase the yield by fifty, no ¡­¡± He scribbled down a quick calculation. ¡°A hundred and eighty-five times!¡±


    Barthum beamed. ¡°You have just changed the entire war.¡± And within moments he had been completely consumed by his work. Saffrael turned to him and angled her head in a suggestion that they leave. Moraithe nodded and they left Barthum to his project.


    Down a long corridor, Marsh was working on battle golems, his workshop a mess of massive jars containing half-formed bodies and sleek, fanged, bristling figures lying on tables, with vacant eyes. Battle golems were an idea that had been floated for years.


    Golems were made in the exact same way as Moraithe and Saffrael had made their own bodies, twice, only lacking a soul. And without a soul, they lacked power on the battlefield. Without a soul, they could not feel anger, exude fear, cast an entanglement, nor hold a revenescent. They had no self-assurance, nor could they contain gratitude. Hence, they lacked sufficient power for battle.


    Marsh, however, was convinced that his work was close to completion. Golem soldiers that could move, fight, and protect ¡ª but still, they were nowhere near the strength of real soldiers. Even the greatest golems couldn''t stand up to the powers wielded by the Severed.


    As they approached his workspace, Marsh bent over a scroll, his brow furrowed, lips muttering under his breath. He was obviously inscribing a long list of conditions and instructions. Such scrolls were typically read aloud while the reader entangled his thoughts with its brain.


    ¡°Looks different from a standard golem,¡± Saffrael observed, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade.


    Marsh jumped, clearly startled by her presence. His hands instinctively moved to cover the scroll, as though trying to hide something. His eyes darted between Moraithe and Saffrael, a flicker of guilt in his expression.


    ¡°I¡­ I''m working on it,¡± Marsh muttered quickly. ¡°These forms, they''re almost there. I just need to ¡­ tweak a few things.¡±


    Saffrael raised an eyebrow, sensing something off. ¡°They''re not strong enough to withstand a powerful enough enemy, though, are they?¡±


    Marsh''s face flushed. ¡°Not typically. But there are uses no one has considered. The small-minded think of a battlefield only as great powers attacking one another. In your mind, it is all self-assurance and entanglements, but the only reason no one has considered quantity as it¡¯s own sort of power is the vast cost in time and effort to create a body. No one even considered making them self-replicating, like what they did when creating plants. That was brilliant, but why did they stop there? We could have a vast army creating itself. An entire¡ª¡±


    Moraithe leaned forward, examining the golems. ¡°Do the instructions replicate with them?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve created something I call instincts. It will pass along knowledge, desires, and instructions.¡± He suddenly appeared afraid, as if he¡¯d said too much.


    ¡°Can you show us?¡± Moraithe stepped forward with interest.


    The golem creator tensed, his fingers twitching as he carefully ran them over the limp form. ¡°There''s nothing to show. Not yet. I don''t want your help. Now out!¡±


    Moraithe exchanged a glance with Saffrael, and they left.


    They moved on, searching for Creth''s workspace. They found him standing in front of another golem, this one holding a giant axe. Creth crouched below it, clutching his head. His project was an air shield, a type of entanglement he''d been perfecting for months. Creth was known for his quiet demeanor, and though his work was always meticulous, it had been a while since he''d made any notable breakthroughs.


    As they approached him, Creth straightened up, giving them a friendly, if strained, smile. His eyes flickered nervously toward the stack of old letters sitting in a neat pile on the corner of his desk. He rushed to his chair and quickly swept them out of sight, but not before Moraithe noticed the words ¡°urgent¡± and ¡°confidential¡± written upon them.


    ¡°What''s this?¡± Moraithe asked, his tone casual but probing.


    ¡°Just some old correspondence,¡± Creth replied quickly, his voice too light. ¡°Nothing to worry about. They''re just ¡­ from some past experiments, I keep everything organized, you know?¡± Lumps bulged out of his face, chaotically dancing in and out. His nose began to melt.


    Saffrael''s eyes widened. ¡°Looks like you''ve got a bit of chaos sickness. Too many entanglements?¡±


    Creth''s smile wavered, and he adjusted his glasses nervously. ¡°That is the nature of research, of course. I hear Barthum has something that could help.¡±


    Moraithe nodded. ¡°Yes, his entropy crystals have garnered quite a bit of interest.¡±


    ¡°But he''s a bit stingy with his research.¡±


    Moraithe caught the faintest flicker of a lie in his eyes. ¡°Stingy. I''ve never seen him as anything but friendly.¡±


    ¡°I¡ª¡± Creth faltered, glancing down at his cluttered desk. ¡°Let''s just say¡­ I don''t like to be in anyone''s debt.¡±


    Saffrael stepped closer, her voice lowering in a way that only added to the tension. ¡°Are you in debt?¡±


    ¡°Why would you think that?¡± he replied, a little too defensively. ¡°Let me show you the air shield.¡± He leaped up and strode to the golem, an obvious distraction. ¡°I''ve been improving the conditional bindings to deal with other types of¡ª¡±


    Saffrael held up a hand. ¡°I don''t want to push you any further. You already have chaos sickness. Perhaps you can show us another time.¡±


    They left to consider their next move. Creth wasn''t the only researcher hiding something. There were too many secrets in this place, too many anomalies.


    ¡°We''re getting closer,¡± Moraithe muttered as they walked away. ¡°But we need more information.¡±


    Saffrael nodded, her expression grim. ¡°Keep watching. One of them is the mole. And when we find out who, we may have one last trick for the Severed.¡±


    With that, they retreated into the shadows of the laboratory once more, suspicions swirling in their thoughts, and the truth still just out of reach.


    * * *


    Moraithe frowned at the enormity of the task looming before him. ¡°This would be easy if I could just place a runic key in your revenescent.¡±


    Saffrael gave him an uncertain expression. ¡°You want to just be able to access my revenescent any time you want, to do anything you want with it? Uh, you know I love you Moraithe, but that''s asking a little too much.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I guess I''m doing this the hard way then.¡± Moraithe sighed in resignation.


    Years ago, they''d sought out a temple to discover the secrets of sealing an entanglement so it would last beyond the moment of compressing their will upon it. They had never found that temple, but thankfully, Elithir had taught him the trick, along with variations upon it. Only with that knowledge could he prepare the arrows for his trick against the Severed.


    He closed his eyes, his breath slowing as he prepared to reach across the divide of his existence. He felt the weight of both bodies, as if they were tethered to his mind by invisible threads, each one a separate world, each pulling him in different directions.


    With one body, he focused on the gentle hum of Saffrael''s revenescent, the vast, unfathomable space stretching before him. He could sense it now, the edges of it¡ªan ethereal, shimmering space that was hers alone. She held it open just enough to let him work, as he felt the delicate tendrils of her power spiraling into his consciousness.


    His other body, floating in his sleeping chamber, touched the tips of the arrows¡ªthe deceptively soft barbed metal, which would easily crush into a blunted tip. With their wooden shafts warded against the wetness, they seemed to pulse with the weight of their purpose. Moraithe''s breath hitched as he reached for them, his mind splitting, pulling between his two lives¡ªdrawing between them an entanglement.


    Power surged in his fingertips. The first arrow became the sole focus of his will. Slowly, carefully, he reached out to it. The tip of the arrow blazed with his intent as he connected it with the depths of Saffrael''s revenescent, a portal linking the arrow to her pocket universe. The first spark of connection flared in his mind, and a wave of entropy surged inward, unbidden.


    He couldn''t stop now. The next arrow¡ªhe touched it swiftly, his hands moving of their own accord, his thoughts dancing between the two bodies. Another. Then another. He felt Saffrael''s presence stronger now, an anchor that he clung to as his mind stretched like a band pulled too tight. Another entanglement. Another wave of entropy and the strain on his mind deepened.


    Nearing the final arrow, the entropy twisted painfully¡ªtoo much, too much¡ªand Moraithe''s mind screamed in protest. He completed the final entanglement, sealing it with the heavy threads of his will. They would carry the innocents into Saffrael''s revenescent, out of sight, safe from the Severed''s demands. A ripple of chaos flooded through him.


    His vision blurred for a moment, and for a split second, he was unsure which body he had landed in. His skull felt as though it was cracking under the pressure.


    He fell into a form of meditation, an automatic response against the burden of entropy spilling over the walls of his mind. If any splashed out into his body he would experience chaos sickness. Then who knew what distortions or chaos the entropy would force upon his body.


    This step was done¡ªbut at such a cost.


    Gasping for breath, his eyes snapped open, and everything around him seemed to shimmer and warp. He staggered, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him, but he caught himself against the stone wall. Entropy. It had left its mark on his mind¡ªchaos, a seething, jagged thing that clawed at the edges of his thoughts, making the world spin in dizzying circles.


    Saffrael''s voice was gentle in his ear. ¡°Moraithe,¡± she murmured, her tone filled with concern. She was close now, her presence grounding, but even her voice seemed muffled, distorted by the weight of the chaos.


    He shook his head, swallowing hard. ¡°I ¡­ I''m fine.¡± His voice was hoarse, strained, but it was enough to reassure her. At least, he hoped it was.


    Saffrael''s fingers brushed against his arm, and he could feel the warmth of her touch cutting through the fog of his mind. ¡°Are you sure? That''s a lot of entropy for one person to bear. Maybe we should use one of those entropy crystals to clear it out.¡±


    He winced, feeling a stab of discomfort deep within his skull. The thought of using a crystal¡ªthe crystals that stored entropy¡ªwas tempting, but taking one could jeopardize their mission. And Elithir was skeptical of them. He didn''t entirely trust the consequences of their use. Power always came with a price. What was the price of this?


    ¡°No,¡± he said quietly, gritting his teeth. ¡°Not yet. I can handle it. I just need ¡­ a moment.¡±


    Saffrael''s gaze softened, her lips pressing together in a thin line of concern. She wanted to argue, but she could see in his eyes the resolve that she knew well. Moraithe would push through the pain, just as he always did.


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said finally, her voice softening. ¡°But I want you to take it easy. Lean on me until you can stand alone.¡±


    Moraithe let out a shaky breath. ¡°Thank you. At least the hardest part is done.¡± He lay his head upon her shoulder and mediated. They just had to endure, together.


    Saffrael rubbed his temples. ¡°We''re going after the mole next, right?¡±


    Moraithe nodded. ¡°At least my part of that plan is the easy one.¡±


    * * *


    When the day ended the laboratory always grew to a roar of voices before it fell quiet again. It was silent now, save for the low hum of some curious entanglement down one of the corridors.


    Moraithe and Saffrael stood at the center of the hush, staring at the case of crystals.


    They had needed to pull some strings, but they had maneuvered themselves into the position where they were the ones who would lock up the rev crystals every night after all the goods had been stored inside. Lock them up every night, and retrieve them every morning. This was the key to their plan for catching those in their ranks who might have divided loyalties.


    Saffrael stood near the vault, her presence barely more than a shadow among the towering shelves. She looked out over the vast arrays of tubes, trays, beakers, and glass chambers used for growing the various crystals they made here. The residue of their energy hummed softly, a constant reminder of the vast potential of what was made in this place.


    Moraithe''s fingers brushed over a rev crystal¡ªits surface alive with pulsing light. He held it carefully, feeling the weight of it in his palm, considering their plan. These wondrous artifacts were all gateways to the same place, a massive warehouse, containing all the supplies needed for the war.


    ¡°So these are what they''re going to distribute to all the quartermasters on our side of the war, huh?¡± Saffrael asked, her tone a little strained as if she was still digesting the implications of their plan.


    Moraithe nodded, still turning the crystal in his hands. ¡°Not just the quartermasters, those manufacturing our supplies will also have one. A shared vault for all our weapons stores, food supplies, and armor. Even Barthum''s entropy crystals will be stored here. It''s quite the logistical miracle.¡±


    ¡°Almost overnight it has become our greatest weapon, and also our most vulnerable point. If it fell into the wrong hands ¡­¡± Saffrael let the words hang in the air, her lips pressing into a tight line. ¡°It would be a disaster on the scale of nothing we''ve ever seen.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. That''s why this is the perfect bait.¡± Moraithe turned his gaze from the crystal to Saffrael. ¡°If there''s a mole in the research laboratory¡ªsomeone trying to sell these crystals to the Severed¡ªthey''ll have to make their move once they think we''ve hidden the crystals away securely.¡±


    ¡°It didn''t seem like you had as much trouble making these trap crystals as you did making those arrows, even though it was basically the same thing.¡±


    ¡°I had to stretch myself across both lives and maintain consciousness in both places to make the arrows. These were easy. I just had to be in the prison cell we put in your revenescent to do them. It was actually more difficult to make them seem like rev crystals, I had to entangle them with the aura of the rev crystals themselves. I''ve never tried entangling an aura before. It could be a nice trick on the battlefield though. Make it seem like we have barons running around everywhere in the ranks.¡±


    ¡°Why stop there, how about princes, infinites?¡±


    ¡°It''s got to be believable. Anyway, once we swap out these crystals for the trap crystals, we should be set.¡±


    Saffrael reached out for the case of rev crystals and stored them in her revenescent. Then she took out an identical looking case.


    Moraithe examined the case. It looked identical. ¡°How do you know those are the trap crystals? What if you got confused?¡±


    ¡°Want to test one?¡±


    ¡°I really don''t want to be stuck in an unbreakable prison cell, thanks.¡±


    ¡°You said my revenescent was warm and cozy. At least that''s a plus right?¡±


    Moraithe laughed. ¡°We''ve got work to do. And I have to secure the crystals.¡±


    Saffrael raised an eyebrow. ¡°Okay, there''s one thing I''m not clear on. How do we make it look secure but leave an opening tempting enough for our mole to take advantage of?¡±


    ¡°You know that our researchers have their own tools of the trade?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Have you heard of the entanglement breaker?¡±


    Saffrael shook her head.


    ¡°It''s a device specifically designed to sever entanglements. I even managed to get one.¡± He pulled it from his pocket and held it out to her. It was a sleek, silver instrument with intricate runes carved along its surface, its edges sharp and delicate. ¡°They are invaluable for breaking sealed entanglements, the very sort the researchers are constantly using. They are also particularly useful for dealing with secure vaults or entangled locks.¡±


    ¡°It seems like we should have countermeasures for something like this.¡±


    Moraithe set the case of trap crystals into the vault, which glowed faintly with some ethereal light. ¡°We do. They aren''t often used because entanglement breakers are so rare. But I mean to deliberately ignore those countermeasures, feigning bravado, that no one could possibly break my entanglements, they are simply too strong.¡±


    Saffrael tilted her head, impressed. ¡°I suppose you''ve tested it.¡±


    ¡°It slices right through all the locks and protections.¡± He said as he set those very locks and protections over the vault.


    Saffrael examined his work. ¡°That should do it then. They take the bait, break the entanglement. And when they touch the crystal¡­¡±


    ¡°They''ll find themselves locked in your revenescent,¡± Moraithe finished, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. ¡°Perfect.¡±


    They both paused, the weight of their plan sinking in.


    ¡°After they take the bait,¡± Saffrael said, her voice softening, ¡°We''ll send a message to Elithir.¡±


    Moraithe nodded, imagining all their work coming to fruition. ¡°Once the trap springs, they''ll have no way out.¡±


    Saffrael threw her arms around him in celebration. ¡°Now we wait.¡±