"Any other thing we need to need to know before we proceed?" Ashvale asked.
"I never said I am going through with the combination I have no plans of losing my identity and changing my plans… I have so many things I need to do." Balmore disagreed.
"If you mean your ambitions of surpassing your family then you are fine… Ashvale has no real ambition in fact the only thing he wants is to keep his rich lifestyle, reading books and collecting antiques."
"So in the aspect of ambition you take the cake in fact it will most likely intensify since you have to be powerful to live the life Ashvale had in his world."
Once Balmore heard the explanation, he was more inclined to agree, but still.
The Artifact noticed that Balmore was still hesitating. With a soft hum in his voice, he began to explain:
"You see, everyone has a soul. A 'dude', if you will." He paused, then clarified, "Though their soul frequencies might differ, they are all the same in base form. A person is made up of memories… and all those little habits one picks up over time."
Balmore furrowed his brow. "Since I'll be getting both sets of memories... the essence of Ashvale and myself... won't that change me? I mean, won't I stop being me?"
"Not quite," the Artifact replied. "Yes, you will change. But at the same time, you will still be yourself... and Ashvale as well. In a way, you'll be both people… and neither. A new being shaped by both."
Balmore looked down, still uncertain. "Is there anything else I should know?"
The Artifact was quiet for a moment, then Ashvale finally added in order to sooth Balmore's nerve, "Mr. Artifact... if you can offer us any help, tailor the help in such a way that helps him."
Ashvale turned to Balmore, a faint smile forming. "Are you going to be alright with this?"
Balmore sighed. "I guess... if you're going this far to help me, then yes. We're in agreement. So… what now?"
"If you've both agreed to combine," the Artifact said, its voice echoing slightly in the white void, "then hold out your hands to each other. Reach out... not just with your body, but with your awareness. I will use my connection to both of you… and pull your souls together until they merge."
Ashvale smiled and extended his hand.
"Well then, nice meeting you. Cheers to a good cooperation… or combination, I suppose."
"You too," Balmore replied, reaching forward and grasping Ashvale's hand.
As their hands touched, the space around them began to tremble.
The floor beneath their feet shimmered, and streams of light started to rise like fog.
Tables and chairs that had no purpose now dissolved into golden mist. Then, in an instant, a blinding light erupted through the white space.
During the soul fusion process, the Artifact watched silently. A glowing current of excess energy began to seep from the merging souls... raw, potent, unstable.
But instead of using it to repair his own fractured form, the Artifact drew it in and sealed it away.
"With a stronger soul," he murmured to himself, "a stronger vessel is needed. And I know just the way to do it."
Throughout the entire fusion, he continued siphoning the surplus energy, storing it with precise care. It pulsed like liquid sunlight within a prism at his core.
***
{Hours Later}
Hours later, in the stillness that followed, something stirred in the endless white void.
A shape began to form... faint at first, then gradually more defined. It was a plain figure: no face, no eyes, no features.
Just a smooth head atop a smooth body, like a statue carved from untouched marble, waiting for a sculptor's hand to give it purpose.
A new being was born.
"...Who am I?" it asked, voice quiet, uncertain.
The artifact remained silent, its presence pulsing faintly in the space. It waited, patient, knowing memory would soon begin to return.
After a moment, the figure spoke again, more firmly this time. "I am Lucien… or… Lucien. Yes. Lucien it is."
The artifact's voice finally answered, low and flickering. "I cannot stay awake for much longer. What must be done now must be done swiftly."
A glowing projection appeared before Lucien.
It began shifting, morphing, until it became a long, pulsing list of animal forms, each hovering in golden light.
"Please choose an animal that best represents you," the artifact instructed. "It would help if the animal you chose is something that you can relate to... To reduce energy consumption for safety reason."
Lucien frowned slightly but didn't bother questioning the artifact since he knew time was important. "Narrow it down. Leave only ten that reflect my current stat."
The list shimmered and condensed, leaving ten glowing silhouettes before him. He scanned them quickly, brow furrowing in confusion.
"Flies and frogs?" he muttered. "Really?"
"Each of these creatures," the artifact said, "is tied to the concept of rebirth... both in your old world and this one. Their symbolism matters."
Lucien was quiet, thinking. He studied each form, their subtle movements, the strange resonance he felt with some more than others.
"Master," the artifact said again, this time more strained, "we don't have much time."
"…Alright," Lucien finally said. "The phoenix. I'll choose the phoenix. It's the one most attuned to rebirth."
A phoenix emblem appeared before him and before he could even inspect it.
"And a name?" The artifact asked.
"Ashvale or Balmore should be fine." Lucien answered.
"A new one would be better preferably one that is related to the phoenix."
Lucien spent a few seconds thinking before finally replying, "Ashborn… goes well with the phoenix and love how it sounds."
"Affirmative," came the reply. "Ejecting you from *** space."
Lucien's eyes opened.
He was back in the cave.
"It's best I get out of here quickly," he murmured to himself, pushing to his feet.
But just as he moved, the artifact's fading voice echoed again.
"Master, do not worry. I am warding away the remaining threats. Please sit. I am beginning the integration of the phoenix bloodline."
Lucien hesitated, then slowly sat down cross-legged on the bloodstained ground.
He exhaled once, closed his eyes, and prepared himself for the pain he knew was coming.
***
{Unknown Place}
Far away, in a place far away, a magnificent phoenix soared across burning skies. Its wings blazed like molten fire, trailing embers in the wind.
Suddenly, its wings faltered.
With a startled cry, it plunged from the heavens, crashing into a smoldering land below. The moment it hit the earth, it rolled violently, feathers scorched and fading.
"What… what just happened?" it gasped, staggering upright. "Where did part of my source blood go?!"
Panic seized it as it reached inward, only to find an empty space where a connection had once been.
A little part of it source blood was gone.
Among ancient beasts, the source blood was sacred.
It was more than power; it was legacy, identity, the ancestral flame that was passed to each generation.
To lose it, even in part, was a crippling blow. The bloodline would weaken. Traits would fade. Powers would dull. If left unchecked, death might follow. If not death, then regression... loss of magical ability, diminished vitality, broken rank, shattered potential.
It wasn't just about strength. Source blood was how they created kin, passed on attributes, create loyal followers, conducted rituals, healed mortal wounds, or enforced their will through command.
It was the root of their influence, their endurance, their pride.
And now… a portion of it had vanished.
The phoenix's wings flared as it prepared to release a scream that would tear the skies... but then something stopped it.
A strange energy, soft and unfamiliar, drifted into its awareness. Gentle. Warm.
Somehow... kindred.
It hesitated, then slowly folded its wings.
The fury in its chest simmered down as it dropped into a sitting position, feathers folding neatly, breathing steadying.
"…Let's see what you are," it whispered, eyes closing and began meditate.