Corvis Eralith
I lay sprawled on The Atoll's beach, every single part of my Soul-Body, from the tips of my hair to the tips of my feet, refusing to work.
The golden sand that had always felt warm and welcoming now pressed against me like a cold, unforgiving weight, and I could not find the strength to push myself up.
My limbs were leaden, my chest heaved with breaths that did nothing to fill my lungs, and my mind—my mind was a storm of fragments, images, and echoes of what I had just accomplished.
Fate's storm finally went quiet. The river around The Atoll returned to its placid state, its surface smooth as glass, its depths calm and untroubled. The golden threads above turned and turned, weaving their eternal patterns as if nothing had ever happened.
As if I had not just torn at the fabric of reality itself.
As if I had not nearly sacrificed everything I was to stop the Legacy from falling into Agrona's hands.
And, more importantly, I was alive.
I was alive.
But the reason for my survival was not as good as the survival itself. I had not stopped the Legacy from descending upon this world. I had only prevented it from falling into Agrona's grasp.
I had used REstringify to separate the Legacy from Cecilia's soul, to sever the threads that Agrona had been pulling, to redirect the Legacy away.
I still did not know how I had done it; only that Fate had been directly involved.
Agrona had been twisting Fate to reincarnate Cecilia, and I had been able to counter him. My success had been possible only because Fate itself had intervened.
However I was not the only one pulling on the golden threads. Agrona had been there too. He could do it—he could weave the threads of Fate.
That was how he had done it. That was how he reincarnated people from other worlds. He pulled the strings of Fate attached to their souls, and he carried them across worlds.
In other words, Agrona Vritra had something that worked frighteningly similar to REstringify—one of the Arbiter's authorities over the Edicts of Fate—but his version could cross worlds.
Could he have his own version of REmould? Of REtrocurrent? I did not want to think about it.
In the novel, Agrona had underestimated Arthur for most of the story. He had not seen the danger until it was too late, until Arthur had grown too strong; but my case was different.
My very first interaction with Agrona had been that of thwarting his Legacy plan and I did not even know where the Legacy had gone—only that it was not in Agrona's hands.
For now.
I dragged myself across the sand, my hands clawing at the golden grains, my legs scraping against the beach. Each movement was agony, each breath a struggle.
On the other shore of The Atoll, a Petaldrift awaited me. I took the paddle and navigated to the Truce-Waters, the peaceful section of the river that would return me to my body without the violent lurch in time of the Warworn Rapids.
—
Berna's tongue was on my face as soon as I opened my eyes.
The Clan was still celebrating.
Ran and Palmyra were surrounded by the attentions of everyone, their laughter bright and their joy infectious.
The artificial twilight of the Nexus Garden had deepened into something closer to night, and the embers of their First Soaring still glowed faintly in the air, like scattered falling stars.
Not much time seemed to have passed. For the first time, I had returned from the river without dying in the first place. It was a strange feeling—almost peaceful.
"Uncle! Uncle!" Chul's voice cut through my thoughts, and I jumped, startled. "Are you in there? You looked strange."
"I just zoned out," I replied, blinking slowly and turning my face toward my nephew.
He was standing right beside me on the ceremonial stage, his massive frame blocking out the dim light of the garden. In his right hand, he held a white goblet of porcelain, its surface gleaming with a liquid sheen.
"What is that?" I asked, my voice still groggy.
"This is Haydraught!" Chul said, taking a deep gulp of the liquid. "Do you want some? Wait here—I will fetch it for you."
He was gone before I could protest, striding toward the lavish banquet that had been prepared for this marriage ceremony.
I watched him go, my mind still spinning furiously with the weight of what I had just done, the implications of what I had learned.
Around the table, I saw Lugano picking carefully through the food items he preferred, his massive black form crouched low as he tried to avoid being noticed.
It was a futile effort—a Guardian Bear larger than even Berna was not exactly easy to miss. Evascir's bond gave a look at Berna, and my bond mimicked a growl with her mouth to answer him.
Guardian Bears spoke labial, it seemed.
I searched for Soleil with my eyes. She was busy playing with a short Phoenix boy with a wide smile and messy hair, sharing the same eye and hair color as her: Milo.
Why did I know his name? Actually... I noticed that as my eyes passed over each Phoenix, I knew the names of all of them.
REtrocurrent provided the answer, a quiet murmur in the back of my mind. REstringify was the ability of connection.
Without it, I had not been able to use my other abilities to their fulle, as they were all deeply dependent on each other.
"Here!" Chul said, returning to my side and offering me another goblet filled with that wheat-colored liquid.
I took a sip.
I spat it to the ground.
It was the most sour thing I had ever tasted—and the most alcoholic. Alcoholic for Asuran standards! Which meant it was potent enough to fell a grown elf with a single drop. The liquid burned my throat, and I felt my head grow light almost immediately.
"What is this made of?!" I shouted, my words coming out louder than intended.
"Prunes? I am not sure." Chul shrugged. "You would need to ask Aurora; she is the one who brews this."
I was ten years old! Chul could have killed me.
No, Corvis, you cannot be drunk just after a sip you spat out immediately, I chastised myself. What was that speech you made to yourself about your objectives in The Atoll?
Chul's hands went to my shoulders, stabilizing me as he leaned me over Berna. The warmth of my Guardian Bear's fur was a comfort, a steady anchor in the chaos of the moment.
"Samsara, I am sorry, Uncle," Chul said, his voice apologetic. "I should have thought about it more."
"I—I need to rest," I said, cutting myself off from this party before I could embarrass myself further. "Tell Evascir and Soleil I want to talk to them as soon as I am awake. And that it is very, very important." I paused, considering. "But I think they already know what I am going to tell them. At least about the plans I have for the Clan."
"You are talking a lot, Uncle," Chul pointed out, smirking. "That is very fun."
I crashed onto Berna's fur, my face buried in her warmth. "Berna, bring me to the Nest we were in before."
—
I opened my eyes after a few hours of sleep—or more. I did not exactly have a way to measure time here in the Hearth.
The "bed" inside the Nest was a hammock, held between two pillars that supported the structure. The Nest itself was a very large room, an open-space apartment where everything one would need—bathroom excluded—was in one single room.
A table. A quite large kitchen area. Wardrobes. Shelves. A fireplace and many more amenities.
If I had not known where I was, I could have mistaken this Nest for an Earthen apartment—a bit old, pre-internet era, perhaps; but it was way more modern than the rest of Dicathen.
Djinnic Manatech was truly something else as this must have been Djinnic contribution to the Hearth. I did not imagine Asuras as technologically advanced researchers.
The Vritra Clan was an exception amongst Basilisks and Asuras alike for that reason.
I stood up from the hammock and landed my feet on Berna, who was lying beneath it, probably worrying that I would fall during my sleep. She growled as I settled on her side.
"You lay right beneath the hammock where I was sleeping, and you complain if I step on you?" I asked sarcastically, stepping away from my Guardian Bear's side.
Berna rose, shrugging herself like a dog to shake sleep away. Looking into her bright green eyes, I felt through our bond that she was very happy.
"You like it here, right?" I asked.
Berna growled in confirmation.
"Yes, I like it too," I said, running a hand through her fur. "And that is exactly the Hearth's problem. This place cultivates escapism: running from the problems of the outside world."
Or, at least, that was how it was in the novel. The surviving members of the Asclepius Clan did not have much choice in this timeline—they were too few in numbers.
But I needed them nonetheless. No matter how little help they could provide.
They were my family, too.
Outside the Nest's door, which opened onto a corridor with a beautiful view of the Nexus Garden, Soleil and Evascir waited.
"Chul told you," I said, remembering the last words I had spoken to my nephew before the alcohol had taken me. "We need to speak about the next moves of the Asclepius Clan."
In the Parliament Theatre, with the depiction of Faircity Zhoroa of the Pillars embedded on our table, I spoke.
"How can the Clan leave the Hearth without being detected by Epheotus or by Agrona?" I asked, looking at Evascir and Soleil. "Could using your Sambhogakayas work? It worked for Soleil all these years."
Evascir and Soleil pondered my question.
"The chicks can safely go unnoticed if they contain themselves," Soleil said. "I do not know about you, Evascir."
"I have my ways too," Evascir said, arms crossed. "Do not worry about me. The problem lies in Chul. He cannot shift Physiques like us, and he remains as powerful as an Asura."
Chul. Right. He would not go unnoticed, and he could not take different forms due to his hybrid nature.
"We do not have any concealing artifacts?" I asked.
"Asuras do not need them." Evascir shook his head. "We are shapeshifters by nature."
I took Avicenna's Vaultlamp. I needed more voices to listen to in this "council" of mine.
"Avicenna, I need your opinion," I called aloud.
'Peace to you, Justiciar,' Avicenna greeted, the Vaultlamp lighting up with blue energy. 'What do you wish to ask?'
"It is about Chul again," I sighed, scratching the back of my neck in nervousness. "I do not know how to bring him with me out of the Hearth."
'And you obviously do not want to leave him behind,' Avicenna said.
"I promised him the exact opposite," I answered, raising my eyes to meet Evascir and Soleil. "What is the matter?"
"Nothing, milord," Soleil said. "Lord Mordain also kept an inner council of Asuras and Djinns."
"It brings back good memories," Evascir said, finishing Soleil's sentence. "Just that."
'I can stay with him if loneliness is what you worry about,' Avicenna offered. 'Furthermore, it could be an opportunity to resurrect the practice of the folk of calm currents.'
"That is a good idea," I said. Chul clearly wanted to speak more with Avicenna, but I could not always bring him with me. Leaving Avicenna with him would be productive for Chul, even if it left me without the guidance of the Sage.
I stood up from the chair and looked at Evascir and Soleil. My palms were planted solidly on the table. "I have made a decision."
"The flock will follow me back to Zestier," I declared, then turned to Evascir. "Evascir, how much do you know about elven religion?"
"Excuse me, what?" Evascir asked, his expression shifting into utter surprise and confusion. "Nothing."
"I will teach you," I said with a smile, feeling the thrill of command and the warmth of having trusted people listening to me travel through my spine. "I need you to be the 'warden' of our Holy City. I still need to think about the details, but I have the plan more or less ready."
If Evascir assumed an elven Narmanakaya and disguised himself as a Sornèvaine, he would have every right to settle in Azellio. Dad's laws favored the transition from Sornèvaine to Arbèvaine, and his desire to colonize Azellio anew would only help.
"Do you have any objections?" I asked, just to be sure. I had to be a leader, not a tyrant.
"None," Evascir said.
And as good Ghevis Lehtinen had told me, Sornèvaines were used to having bonds—more than Arbèvaine elves. That would easily explain Lugano's existence and presence alongside the Titan.
"As for Chul..." I murmured, looking at the blue Vaultlamp. "He will remain in the Hearth with Avicenna until they can come up with a solution."
"You want to leave Chul alone?" Soleil asked, concern flickering in her eyes.
I met her gaze steadily. "Chul does not want to leave the Hearth only because he wants to avenge the Clan," I started, finally understanding the deeper reasons behind Chul's actions. "He wants to be treated as an adult, and he thinks the outside world is the only place where he will be treated as such."
I paused, letting the words sink in. "And as long as the Clan is under my rule, Chul is an adult. He is energetic. Passionate. He fought the loss of his grandfather and mother, and he does not throw tantrums about how the Clan treats him. If that is not what an adult is, then I do not know its definition."
"We understand, Eralith," Evascir said. "We will do as you say."
"I am going to inform the Clan," Soleil said, starting to rise.
I stopped her. "That is my role. You have done more than enough."
I stood, ready to take my flock out of the sanctuary where the father I had in a former life had brought them to escape the tyranny of gods.
But now it was time to turn the tables. It was time for the chessboard of the gods to have a new player.
—
I knocked on the door of another Nest—Aurora's Nest. The door was carved from a dark, polished wood that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light of the Hearth's corridors, and I could hear the faint sound of movement from within.
I wanted to take the recipe for the Haydraught for myself. Not because I enjoyed that drink—I would never drink something so sour in my life ever again. The memory of its bitterness still clung to my tongue, a reminder of my brief, embarrassing lapse in judgment.
However, I was sure Grandpa would like it. A childish part of me wanted to bring some souvenirs to my family from the Hearth.
But the leader in me considered this a good opportunity to get to know a member of my flock better. Every Phoenix I had met so far had been shaped by loss, by isolation, by the weight of a history they could not escape.
Aurora was no different and if I was going to lead them, I needed to understand them.
The door of the Nest opened.
Aurora Asclepius in her Narmanakaya was a young woman—in her early twenties by elven standards, perhaps late teenage years. Her black hair was short, cropped close to her scalp like the feathers of a crow, a stark contrast to the others.
Everyone else—males and females alike, though it was more evident in the girls—kept their hair at least shoulder-length.
"Oh, Eralith, it's you," she said, and I caught the faint note of relief in her voice. She seemed relieved it wasn't someone else. "Do you want to come inside?"
"Thank you, but no," I said, keeping my tone polite but firm. "I am here for more serious issues. I will speak to the Clan about our next moves."
"And you came here to tell me that?" Aurora leaned on the doorframe, her arms crossed, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. "You could have sent Soleil to fetch the Clan and save time."
"Well, I also need something from you," I admitted, feeling a slight flush of embarrassment. "The recipe for the Haydraught."
"Interesting." Aurora's eyes sparkled with curiosity. She reached under the folds of her clothes and produced a small notebook, its pages worn and stained with use.
She took a long feather—deep crimson, striated with a few black plumes—and began to write on one of its pages.
"You are writing it down?" I asked, surprised. "Thank you."
"I am making it a poem," she said, pausing for a moment to ponder her words. Her hand moved across the page with fluid grace, and when she finished, she ripped the page from the notebook and handed it to me.
I looked at the paper, at the elegant script that seemed to dance across the page. "Wait, what did you use as ink?"
"Charcoal," she explained, raising one finger and producing a fine black dust over it. "With earth and fire magic you can get pretty creative."
Asuras. Able to do so much with mana. For us Dicathians, something like that was unthinkable. One of the main rules of magic was that it was impossible to create something from nothing.
Earth mages used dirt, sand, dust—whatever they had on them or around them.
Wind mages used the air around them and in their lungs. Water mages did the same with moisture. Fire mages, meanwhile, could ignore these rules to an extent, but they still could not create fire from absolutely nothing.
With just a bit of mana, it seemed Asuras could do anything.
Creation-type mana arts; that was the name Windsom had used to explain it to Arthur.
"Thank you for the conversation, Aurora," I said, folding the poem carefully and tucking it into my pocket.
After Aurora, I visited the rest of the Clan to personally call them to gather in the Nexus Garden. Each Nest I knocked on, each face that appeared in the doorway, each brief conversation I had: they were all small steps toward building something new.
The only one remaining was Chul.
Suncrusher slammed against a wall, the stone cracking like glass. The sound of the impact echoed across the room, and Chul let out a satisfied, but fatigued, grunt.
"And here I thought you would be doing something else," I said, stepping into the room. "At least you are in a different place than the Portal Chamber."
Chul was in an hexagonal room that could have looked like a fighting ring from Earth, its walls, ceiling, and floor reinforced with layers of enchanted stone.
It was one of the training rooms here in the Hearth, but it was called the Dance Stage—REtrocurrent supplied me the memory. The illumination came from lights embedded in the ceiling instead of sconces, lanterns, or floating orbs, designed to avoid someone breaking them.
"Uncle," Chul greeted, drying sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "You recovered from yesterday."
"Yes, I did," I replied, embarrassed. "But I am here to talk about the next moves of the Clan."
"We are leaving?!" Chul's reaction was ecstatic, a wide smile spread across his face, his fists clenched to contain his sheer excitement. It pained me knowing what I was about to tell him.
"Yes, but..." I hesitated, the words sticking in my throat. "I cannot bring you with me. Not yet."
An expression of disappointment coloured Chul's face, wiping away the joy like a wave erasing footprints on sand.
"What do you mean you cannot bring me with you?" His tone wasn't angry, it was saddened, which made it so much worse. "The rest of the Clan would not even lift a wing to leave the Hearth! I will be more useful than all of them, Uncle! I swear it!"
"That is not the problem, Chul." I reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "I cannot let Epheotus discover my plans. For now, they think I am their loyal pawn, and the more they believe it, the better. I say this with no offense, but you are a walking alarm signal for Epheotus."
Chul gritted his teeth in frustration, his jaw tight.
"Always this mana core of mine," he seethed. "Always giving me problems. Always making me a burden."
"Do not say that," I said firmly, offering him the blue Vaultlamp. "I am giving you a task: resolve this problem. You will have Avicenna's help. Perhaps he will be able to let you see through your Djinn blood."
'It would be my honour, Chul Asclepius,' Avicenna said, his voice warm and steady.
"You would leave Wise Avicenna with me?" Chul asked, his eyes widening.
I nodded. "I trust you, Chul. I know you will not disappoint me."
Chul's expression shifted, the sadness replaced by a fierce determination. "Thanks, Uncle. I won't disappoint."
Perfect, I said in my head. Now I just need to give some religion lessons to a Titan, and we can leave the Hearth and return home.
—
I waited in front of the sealed door of the Forge Room, knocking on its steel surface. The noise made by my knock was overwhelmed by the sounds coming from inside.
What is Evascir doing? I asked myself.
"Berna, can you communicate with Lugano? Perhaps he will hear us," I asked my Guardian Bear. She growled, shaking her head.
"Lugano is not there?" I asked, surprised. "I will need Evascir to teach me how he does that."
Berna growled, annoyed by my comment, and licked my entire face in protest.
"Yes, I deserved that," I said apologetically when finally the Forge Room opened with a sizzle.
"I hope this Emanation Physique suits your plan, Eralith," Evascir said, stepping out of a cloud of vapour.
The person who emerged was undeniably elven.
Evascir remained Evascir: he was still bald and had a look on his face that made him seem like a statue carved from ancient stone. But other than that, he was perfectly an elf.
He had long, pointed ears and pale skin with piercing eyes. He was tall and muscular like an athlete, but he preserved the elven characteristic lean frame. He wore a long white tunic with gathered sleeves, the fabric rich and flowing.
Around his neck, the collar was petal-shaped, and white sashes flowed free from his waist down. Dark boots, brown leather trousers, and forearm bracers completed his clothing.
"That is definitely quite elven," I said, nodding approvingly. "Good job."
"I have finished crafting you a new cane," Evascir said, ignoring my congratulations and offering me a sleek wooden staff. Its surface was smooth, dark, and polished to a mirror shine.
I took it with my good hand and moved it between my fingers, testing its balance. It was perfectly weighted, light enough to move quickly but solid enough to deliver a heavy blow.
"You really know how to craft walking canes," I said, swinging it around.
"Titans have been crafting tools for the Asuras since the dawn of our race," Evascir said. "There are few things one of us has not made at least once in their life." He paused, a faint smile crossing his lips. "I incorporated a blade inside. Try to open it."
I fed my mana into the new wand-cane. It looked identical to its former self on the outside, black wood without a pommel, but once I fed it mana, a section of the wand-cane gave way like the sheath of a sword, revealing a green blade inside.
"Emerald?" I asked, admiring the translucent green of the blade.
Evascir nodded. "Just like Jade, or Malachite, Emerald also has a role in Titan magic."
"Evascir," I said, curiosity getting the better of me, "if Phoenix mana arts are broadly called Samsara, what is the term for the mana arts of the Titans?"
"Brahman."
"Brahman, huh..." I murmured, trying a few experimental swings with my hidden blade. The weapon felt alive in my hand, responding to my movements with a fluid grace that spoke of Evascir's skill.
To continue testing this new wand-cane, I sheathed it and tried to cast a simple Bubblespell.
With the orb of water conjured above my fingertips, I bounced it a couple of times over the cane, playing with the spell as if it were a ball and in response, the wand-cane behaved perfectly—there was no mana leakage and no disruption in the magic.
"Thank you again, Evascir," I said. "But I will need your help again for my Lifework—making new artificial limbs with malachite, like you suggested."
"Did you not say you had a better partner than me?" Evascir asked, raising an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Avicenna will remain with Chul, so..." I started, embarrassed by the words I had said yesterday. "I would be very, very grateful if you could help me in his place."
"The value of a Titan is measured by how good a blacksmith he is for his employer," Evascir said, his expression serious but not unkind. "And my employer is the Asclepius Clan, whose Highprince is you."
"I am obliged," I said, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "Back in Elenoir, I want you to help me. There are so many things we can do to help Dicathen without needing to reveal the Clan."
Evascir inclined his head, a gesture of acceptance and respect. "As you wish, Highprince. As you wish."