Cautious of dangers that may still lurk in this unfamiliar temple-ruin, Altha sprinted silently toward the library.
Passing the corpses that decorated the bridge's ancient surface, painting it a new coat of ash and bodies of rusting metal.
He made it in, and down the steps of the cathedral before moving up the stairs leading to the garden.
Beyond the weathered archway veiled in ivy, the garden unfolded like a memory sung into stone as moonlight streamed through towering, vine-wrapped pillars—each a sentinel of ancient grace—rising to support a vaulted dome of faded mosaics.
Soft ribbons of light played against the sculpted marble and dew-soaked blossoms.
At the heart of the garden stood a marvel of forgotten artistry—forged of copper, cradling a globe made of crystal floating inside the unmoving rings, stuck in rotation.
It hummed with silent energy.
The device pulsed gently, casting soft cyan hues upon the surrounding statues—six in all—each one robed in flowing garb, their faces serene, hands outstretched toward the orb except one, whose hand lay on the ground next to it.
The other four of the six had missing heads.
But what should have been a total of six still silhouettes had become seven.
Altha froze.
Using the garden's overgrown shrubbery for cover, he crept closer—slowly, carefully. Only one being matched the seventh silhouette's imposing shape.
The knight.
His chest tightened at the thought. The library lay just beyond, but he couldn't risk crossing open ground now. Not with them here.
He crouched lower, hiding behind a thick tangle of roses.
"Might as well learn something about his potential future opponent," he thought.
Through the leaves, he studied the figure. The knight's face was hidden beneath a close-faced sallet, the flared rear guarding the neck. A rounded bevor nestled beneath the chin, lending a timeless severity to the helm's silhouette.
The armor was traditional, chivalric—but far from mundane.
Polished onyx plate shimmered softly under the garden's glow, each curve etched with golden filigree. The motifs were precise, devotional: leaves, flames, or some combination of both. Ceremonial, yes—but not impractical.
A black-grey quilted skirt layered over light mail, its hem embroidered with white and red triangular patterns—mountains, perhaps. Or fire. Or unity.
The cuirass was slender, contoured for movement. At its center, a sigil—radiant sun, or tree, or both—embossed like a brand of faith.
The cyan light pulsing from the orb danced faintly across the knight's onyx armor, bathing it in ghostly illumination. Still as a monument, the figure stood before the four headless statues, shoulders squared in silence.
Several hours passed as the knight seemingly fixated on the headless figures.
The knight never stirred—only observed. Its gaze, though hidden behind polished metal, never wavered from the shattered figures.
And then Altha understood.
The reason the Knight would ascend the steps at night. It was never that it could hear him or sense him, but rather simply put it had ascended the steps to marvel at the ruined statues, but why?
It ascended to stand vigil.
To remember.
Did it know who the figures were? Had it met them once? Or was it perhaps once one of those figures?
The night dragged on and the knight turned its gaze to the final two statues. One remained intact keeping both it's hand and head though some of its fingers had weathered away.
But still, its robed hand outstretched toward the orb, disfigured and crumbling as it may be.
The other was missing a hand, though its solemn face endured.
At the sight of it the knight's grip tightened slowly on the hilt of its sword, which had rested in the earth like a gravemarker. The metal whispered as it was drawn free.
Then, without a word, the knight turned and departed the vacant garden, its steps heavy with memory.
Altha spared the statues and the device one last glance as he secreted himself inside the library.
Altha sat down, eyes fixed on the scarlet gem.
As a Psyche user, he couldn't sense Ether—nor its variations—but there was something he could feel in others. He didn't quite know what it was. Perhaps their consciousness?
Or maybe their Cogni. It was the energy of thought after all. Or maybe something else entirely.
Whatever it was, the gem radiated it in large quantities and something else, some faint source of will, emotion....
Presence...?
He felt it: a voice—or the echo of one—murmuring from deep within. A quiet invitation. An offer wrapped in ancient heat and subtle hunger.
His eye gleamed a golden colour, it's iris cracked and fractured in places, greying near the top and becoming darker closer to the centre giving the illusion of dark cavernes stretching to his pupil.
The red string appeared, as hypnotic as ever, and before he knew it his face was mere inches from the gem moving closer still.
However a sudden voice broke the tenuous silence of the library.
> (Memory Banks: Functional)
(Niobe: Active)
His eyes shot to the silver coloured bracer of his wrist.
> (Hello, wearer Altha.)
Altha blinked. "Uhh, hi... You can speak? I mean you already technically could speak, but you sound different now."
> (Indeed, Ai systems are now fully operational. It is nice to meet you wearer Altha. I am Niobe, your personal virtual assistant.)
"My personal virtual assistant?"
> (Indeed, I am here to help you on your journey back home.)
Altha parsed some faint line of thought as he muttered. "Home..."
> (Wearer Altha?)
"Oh, I see. You must have been inactive until now. But I swear the bracer said all systems were functional… well I guess technically it only said systems functional not all systems functional..."
The bracer was quick to respond, it's voice gentle and honeyed.
(Indeed, however most systems of the device itself are operational already. Though even if all of them were, it still wouldn't factor into my awakening if my integration had not reached a hundred percent.)
Altha looked up in realization.
"Ohhh, so that's what that meant... wait what did you mean even if the bracer were to be fully operational it wouldn't factor into your awakening. You're part of it are you not?"
> (Indeed, the bracer itself was fashioned by one Cecily Acustes and her Prodigy Cassilyth Ishu Isleen. I, however, was integrated later—created by Seth Acustes, with assistance from Sumi Lennon Sin'Clair.)
"Huh..."
Altha looked at the bracelet and smiled, some faint flicker of light reaching into those abysmal pools the world called eyes.
He thought back to the crew—his final day with them.
The dinner table lit by candlelight, the warmth of the food against his teeth and gums, the flavor spilling across his tongue and pressing against the roof of his mouth. The smiles. The chatter. The bickering, and the laughter.
The memory warmed his heart and the thought of returning to that again sent small shivers across his body, shivers that carried with them a tinge of pre-regret.
He pressed a hand to his chest. "What a strange feeling," he murmured. "Why'd I think about that now?"
He already knew why. He didn't need to think long—only long enough to reshape the truth until it fit more comfortably inside his doubt.
"Better not to think about it too much." He muttered to himself. "Niobe," he said aloud, "you said your memory banks were functional. What does that mean, exactly?"
> (It means I have access to all the information contained in my programming. This includes but is not limited to: Sample analysis, Real-Time DNA Analysis, Arcane Diction, Medical Assistance, Information Gathering, and Information Retainment, Memory Retainment.)
Altha stood up and stretched. "That sounds like it could be useful, infact there's already some samples I'd like you to identify."
> (No problem. Once you require my assistance, simply call.)
He gave a small nod. The bracer dimmed, silent again. Looking at the silver arcanum one more time, he tore his sights away and focused.
Words surfaced in the air, glowing softly.
> [PROFILE]
[ATTRIBUTES]
[ASPECTS]
[REMEMBRANCES]
[INNER-EXISTIALS]
He narrowed his attention.
> [REMEMBRANCES]
Three entries unfolded before him:
> [Petalbrand Ring]
[Argyris Aster]
[Scarlet Seedling]
He focused on 'Argyris Aster' first and the text expended:
> Remembrance: [Argyris Aster]
Remembrance-Type: Soul-Encoded Weapon
Forms: Lacrymata (Sword) & Seraphis (Bow)
Core Aspects: Electromagnetism, Gravitics, Spatial Compression
Remembrance-Class: Prime
Resonance Conditions: Untethered
Psyche-based conduit (Incompatible) AN= 5000
---
> [Remembrance Description]
"There was once a Wyrm who sang the weight of stars into silence and wove the laws of gravity with the arcs of her body.
She was wingless, but she soared the skies and saw not chaos in the heavens, but harmony—an orchestra of motion and colour.
To the one who danced with fire in her defense, she leaves behind not a scale nor her claw not even a tooth, but her Choir—so that the universe might listen when he strikes.
She felt it in him, this vague sense of something other, something beyond the strangeness of fate."
---
> [Manifestation Traits]
Weapon Forms:
[Lacrymata – "The Rift-Sung Blade" (Sword Form)]
A sleek, magnetized edge that can phase in and out of space like a fragmented note in a shattered song.
Rift Fang: Upon slashing, the blade can tear micro-rifts in reality, allowing the weapon to blink up to 30 meters in any direction they can see.
Mass Modulation: Lacrymata can alter its density mid-combat—becoming weightless for speed or heavier than stars for unstoppable momentum.
Polar Grasp: Can repel or attract metallic objects, weapons, or even bloodborne metals.
---
[Seraphis – "The Choirstring of Collapse" (Bow Form)]
Forged from the carved memory of star-music. When nocked, it hums with a perfect, silent pitch that only fate can hear.
Arrow of Singular Point: Sacrificing Psyche, you can fire an arrow that creates a gravity sink on impact.
Graviton Shroud: You can switch mass and velocity of your arrows mid-flight, letting a shot curve like light or punch like a meteor.
Event Exchange: After firing, user may teleport to or swap positions with the arrow at any moment before it lands—excellent for traversal or evasive maneuvers.
---
Passive Abilities:
Pandora's Accord: As long as the Remembrance is tethered, the weapon is highly resistant to gravitational distortions, electromagnetic disruptions, and teleportation locks.
Choir Pulse(Bow): With every successful kill, the weapon records a note.
> A single slash or arrow that warps local space-time for 3 seconds—slowing enemies, accelerating allies, and nullifying one magical effect on contact.
Silent Orbit: When idle and drawn, the weapon floats around the user in orbit, singing the final breaths of dead stars.
---
Altha stared at the words, breath caught somewhere between reverence and disbelief.
"Choir," he whispered. "She left her Choir behind."
The Spire's voice did not echo. The library did not answer. But something—some frequency too deep for ears and too soft for logic—trembled at the edges of his Psyche.
His fingers hovered just shy of the text. He could almost feel the orbit of the thing, hear the silence it sang from beyond the veil of use. Not a weapon. Not yet. Not for him.
But maybe one day.
Focusing on the Psyche-based conduit (Incompatible) part of the Remembrance the following displayed:
Alter-Nodes: Fracts gained through the process of felling creatures.
• Rusted Rose (Butcher)= 128 AN
• Emberborn Leviathan= 240 AN
• Current Alter Nodes (AN)= 368/500
• Required Alter Nodes (AN)= 5000
---
Altha's eye twitched. "One thousand five hundred?" he echoed, voice barely above a whisper. Then louder, in disbelief:
"Five thousand!? For what!?"
He stumbled back a step, shutting his eyes as if sheer not seeing it could wipe the number from existence. He'd fought through ash and flame, through pain and psychic whiplash—and he was still less than a third of the way there?
"No," he muttered, shaking his head. "No no no, not again. Not another locked relic. I don't have time to chase dreams through blood."
Heart pounding, he swiped the current projection away with a frustrated flick of his wrist, diving into the next listing.
---
Remembrance: [Scarlet Seedling]
Remembrance-Type: Consumable Athar-Encoded Artifact
Forms: Emberfruit (Consumable Fruit)
Core Aspects: Ash, Fyr, Pyre's Null Cycle
Remembrance-Class: Indelible
Resonance Conditions: Must be fully metabolized by the host.
Psyche-based conduit (Compatible)
A faint red glow pulsed as the screen shifted. Warmth trickled across his fingertips—not imagined—as if the Remembrance knew it had been seen.
---
> [Remembrance Description]
"In the heart of every kindling lies a seed—cradled by ash, kissed by flame. The Scarlet Seedling is that seed made flesh, born of Null in the Pyre: a rare fruit, cradled in the ash of souls of the burning realm, whose Fyr still smolders within its core.
To partake of its spoils is to taste the unforgiving sun, to dine upon fire itself—an experience few dare to remember and fewer still who can put to name the taste.
Those who bear the Scarlet Seedling carry not just fire in their flesh, but the hunger of dying suns in their marrow."
---
Altha exhaled—long, slow, tense—like a balloon deflating from the inside.
"Compatible," he whispered, the word hanging in the stillness like a reprieve handed down from some unseen judge.
---
[Manifestation Traits]
Embodied Form: The Scarlet Seedling
An ember-wreathed fruit shaped like a heart petrified mid-beat, warm to the touch and heavier than its size betrays.
Psycheflare:
By focusing your Psyche into a specific limb or part of your body, you may suffuse it in living scarlet flame. That area ignites, not with fire alone, but with will made heat, allowing you to raise or lower its temperature at will—melting steel or freezing air depending on your intention.
---
Passive Abilities:
Ashen Feast:
You may consume the Ashen remains of the fallen Ashanai. Their essence sates not hunger alone, but a deeper craving—the need to remain kindled.
Fyrbrand Resilience:
You gain innate resistance( to Fyr and all fire-based phenomena.
He passed a sigh of relief and summoned the Argyris Aster into his hand, it appeared in it's Bow form, Seraphis.