"I see."
Aldric said quietly. The puzzle pieces were coming together.
His aspect had not been something that he had given much thought to. Focusing more on his aspect abilities, the description was not that useful to him.
With how vague it was, he had long since given up on making sense of it. It was not as straightforward as the [Shadow Slave] aspect from Sunny.
But what he did know was that the [Seed of Chaos] and all the remaining aspect legacy remnants he would receive in the future were intimately tied to his aspect.
[Made in Abyss] spoke of a "clandestine" journey. Knowing that the nightmare spell was often very specific with its words and their meaning, Weaver's secret journey to the void could in fact be described as such.
"A sliver of ???"
'Why won't the runes translate them?'
There were no feelings of madness; neither were there any lack of translations. When he viewed the runes, the hidden section felt like a rift in space.
A void.
But he knew that there was something there. It was simply unseen to him.
Looking past the strange unknown term, he thought back to Weaver and his own origin.
He knew that Weaver was a master of planners.
It was strange, creepy and had horrific implications at times.
The way in which Weaver hid his forbidden lineage across time, space and, most importantly, fate, obscuring its existence from even the gods.
The creation of the nightmare spell and the harrowing omniscience it seemingly had. Capable of altering the very structure of reality and human society.
Though the biggest reason was Sunny himself.
"It's as if his entire life was written."
From him being the only known sleeper aside from himself to not have soul essence, allowing him to kill the [Vile Thieving Bird's Spawn] without having his shadow essence drained.
Funnily, Aldric knew that he could have also attempted to gain the [Drop of Ichor] however, his flaw would've made his death certain in front of a Great Devil. And besides, fate did not send him to the Coral Labyrinth.
Sunny himself had the [Fated] attribute. An attribute that made things likely and unlikely to occur to him. Though, to a Daemon of Fate, that seemed easy to manipulate.
'Does Weaver even control flaws through the nightmare spell?'
A wild thought came to his mind. Though, he dismissed it as it came.
And even he knew that he barely scratched the surface. There were likely a myriad of schemes and plots that only occurred because of Weaver.
So this could be one of them.
While Sunny's life seemed to be building up to and heading towards a final confrontation with the awakened Forgotten God, how much of this was pure chance and how much was planned by the Daemon of Fate?
A slight heat built inside of his mind as his thoughts continued to expand.
'Focus. We're talking about aspects.'
Aldric centred his thoughts before they spiralled.
His hand brushed against the runes, feeling each engraving as it dug into the obsidian wall. The sense of touch on his new body having similarities yet subtle differences to his human form.
"So if Sunny is his main plan, what am I? A contingency?"
Aldric spoke out.
It was obvious to see that Weaver had planned this as a result of his journey to the primordial void. There was no way that someone so meticulous and elusive would not plan for the possibility of something leaving with him when he completed his journey.
Besides, it gave more credence to Aldric's theory regarding the nightmare spell.
How exactly was it that the nightmare spell was able to bestow memories and lineages in a time when the gods were dead and all other realms but the waking world was consumed? Where did the nightmare spell receive aspect legacies from?
In a morbid way, Weaver could have collected everything he needed throughout his own lifespan.
Walking around in circles, Aldric's mind was running a mile a minute.
"Where else could he have received the [Seed of Chaos] from? Or even the drop of Shadow God's ichor."
He remembered the description of the lineage talking about the drop of blood being found, bled upon the battlefield between the gods and the void beings.
A strange rush of emotions pumped in his head.
Feelings of arrogance, purpose, meaning and suspicion filled him in waves.
"Even my own special nature – did he plan for that as well?"
However, it sounded a bit farfetched to his ears. Aldric knew that he was a singular existence. An irregularity in any context. So while logic would dictate that Weaver could have planned for a soul to traverse the void and find refuge in the waking world, that seemed highly unlikely.
Inherently, deep down, Aldric knew that he was something special. Something outside of the canvas of the realms and the void.
A singularity.
SHSHSH
The sound of static buzzed around his mind, numbing his mind to everything but his thoughts. As if he was entering a zone of complete focus.
INHALE
EXHALE
Taking a few calming breaths, Aldric was worried.
He knew that he was not like this before. That something had changed.
Beginning ever since he completed his first nightmare, Aldric began to have moments of extreme grandeur. Moments where he thought he was special, unique and singular.
This was not in line with his personality of caution and planning.
And while he always had large goals and aspirations, moments like these filled him with a self-assured confidence that he could achieve anything. That it was just a matter of time.
And at its core, it felt as though the capacity of his ego, his desire, was growing.
Slowly twisting and stretching what he thought his personality was.
And in time, these episodes increased in potency and in regularity. Whatever it was, he did not know, and he likely would not know anytime soon.
'But it feels good...'
He admitted. A feeling that he could barely admit but was not willing to face.
Not yet.
Moving past the walls, it was time to find what he was here for.
In the centre of the hall, a faint circle wrapped around a single ivory stone.
The entire system looked incredibly inert. Both lifeless and silent to him.
"This was not here in the original ebony tower. Did Weaver get rid of it?"
He theorised out loud.
Realising that this is where Modret had completed the ritual to shield himself from the gazes of seers, the obsidian being walked to the centre.
PULL
The familiar feeling of the tesseract guided him to the centre. While his rational mind told him that a drop of blood was typical in cases like these, his intuition told him otherwise.
Dropping an orb of viscous darkness from his finger onto the ivory tablet, every speck of white was wholly consumed.
In a chain reaction, the runes that circled the ritualistic floor lit up. Basking the dimly lit room in a white light.
With no semblance of danger from [Insight], Aldric remained still. Watching the events occur. He could see the familiar veins of diamond chains making up the ivory stone.
Beneath him, the white light spiralled towards the centre. Blinding the darkness-encased tablet until it cracked open.
In a shower of light and essence, the tablet shattered. Leaving behind an object floating in the air.
A singular black feather.
Immediately, Aldric's senses screamed to him that this feather bore divine weight. That whatever it came from was of the divine rank.
But then it was not.
But then it was.
From Aldric's point of view, the feather seemed to shift between states. One second appearing to be but a regular feather but at other times, feeling like a remnant of a divine creature.
"It's like it's in a perpetual state of change. Shifting the moment that I observe it."
Aldric could not begin to fathom the complexities and laws that governed such a phenomena.
But it was real, not a poor imitation of soul essence made by the nightmare spell. But real.
Grabbing it, beneath his hand, it felt like a normal feather. Soft and silky towards the end and coarse at its core.
With the nightmare spell not reacting to the item in his hand, it reminded him of the bone that Sunny found in this same tower back in the dream realm.
How it was a true bone from Weaver and how Sunny consumed it wholly to gain [Bone Weave].
But Aldric had no inclination to eat the feather. His intuition and his [insight] attribute did not react to the idea of him eating it. As if it would become a regular feather again the moment he attempted to consume it.
He had a better idea anyways.
Summoning the [Tesseract] in its standard form of the tetrahedron, the shard rested in his palm. As soon as the memory had formed, the black gem pulled itself towards the feather. As if it was attracted to it by gravity.
Opening and expanding, the three-dimensional shape unravelled itself and wrapped around the black feather. It consumed the feather, now with lines of fire bursting within the infinitesimal runes etched on the shard. Shaking and vibrating, something was happening.
A reaction.
Reenacting a familiar phenomenon he had just seen earlier.
It burned and burned. Lighting up until it stopped. Only to repeat again.
At a much closer look, lines of runes would periodically light up before fizzling out again.
Sitting still on his palm, he knew what was next.
A larger period of time where the [Tesseract] assimilated whatever it had absorbed. Bringing with it boons and rewards. And this time, he did not know what it would bring. Because he knew the origin of the divine feather.
'It better be good. After all, this is the last time I can use the damn thing.'
He thought.
With how the runes within the [Tesseract] had waned and weakened after each time that it assimilated something, he previously gave it two or three more uses. However, instinctually, he knew that this was something big.
This would be the last time.
Looking back onto the circle, something that was not there before appeared.
A passage of runes. Engraved in a strange white light, it lit up from the floor.
Between the nightmare spell and [Visionary] as well as the lack of forbidden knowledge, Aldric read them on the spot.
[Fate too was something they created to battle against them.
So how could we... No. How could I avoid their prying eyes?
Their eyes of guidance... Their veiled eyes...]
The word veiled triggered an image within Aldric's mind.
A picture of an ever-recurring statue. Its beautiful visage veiled by a piece of cloth.
Fuelling the flames of mystery between Nether and the Storm God even further, the nature of their relation continued to elude him.
But that was secondary to the feeling within his mind.
Leaving the circle, he traced his steps backwards towards the entrance of the hall. Returning back down the staircase.
"I'm done. Just one last thing, and I'm done."
He spoke as he looked towards his missing arm.
Flashes of floating islands, coloured knives, a floating ship, and a dragon filled his mind. Speaking of what was to come.
"Let's get this arm."
-----
And just like he said, he accomplished his goal.
Aldric chained the ends of his left shoulder and a suitable arm he had found amongst the pile of discarded dolls. Utilising a set of small tools manifested from darkness and diamond strings he found in the tower, he made it work.
It was difficult and arduous. A true test of Aldric's proficiency with diamond chaining. Incorporating an entirely new realm of sorcery and altering the creations of the inventor themselves.
It was his luck that made the task simple in its complexity. Having to alter and graft the thousands of nodes on the arms onto his shoulder.
But it was now done. The limb functioning as if it had always been a part of him.
Strangely, the chaotic energy that fuelled his body did not reject the new limb. Fuelling and commandeering the arm all the same.
With this done, it was time for Aldric to make a move.
Mastering the school of Diamond Chaining would take years and could definitely not be mastered within a single nightmare. Only the challenges of his future would grow and fuel his development in the sorcery.
Though he had learned enough to give the art his own definition. Rather than defining it as a primitive form of Weaving, it was an alternative pathway. Very similar yet different.
Weaving was an art of manipulating strings of essence into different patterns that could encompass the name of the memory, its description, and the True Name of its master. Used as a medium to manifest the needs of the nightmare spell.
In Aldric's mind, diamond chaining was physical. Utilising physical chains as a conduit for the sorcery of true names. Capable of birthing phenomena into reality in the likeness of Shaping and Runic Sorcery but different.
So while it was less refined and specific, the difficulty and barrier to entry were much lower. After all, Weaving was something left behind for those with an intimate connection with Weaver.
Though unknown to Aldric, there was a massive pro to not learning Weaving, and it was that he was not limited by the nightmare spell either. With Weaving only completed within the runic language of the nightmare spell, Aldric was not limited by a single runic language.
Forbidden runes, forbidden knowledge. There were paths to development, even if Aldric could not see it yet.
The young man anticipated that he never would be able to make his own memories in the likeness of the memories created by the spell or Sunny. But he was certain that with enough practice he would be able to alter the physical components of memories.
But that was as far as his own knowledge took him.
It was in this time that Aldric explored an alternative route to ending the nightmare, traversing the gateway that connected the two towers and killing a bound Hope. But the idea left as quickly as it came.
Aldric was not an idiot.
Even though she was weakened and chained, captured for hundreds of years. Aldric knew that the power of the divine was still insurmountable. Remembering the effects that Nether's killing intent had on Sunny was enough to drown any ambitions of killing a divine being. If their killing intent, from a visage eons ago, was enough to nearly kill a master Sunny, he would have no chance.
'Sunny really did save Mordret from killing himself.'
He mocked.
With all his objectives complete, it was time to leave the dreary tower.
---
A lone figure walked across a sea of ivory sand.
Armed in stone plates that were interlocked into a chain of armour. Darkness pumped and flowed beneath it like magma.
The figure looked eerily human but not at the same time. With hair made from a plume of darkness, the figure looked like a living statue. It's skin looking alive yet stone-like.
Their features were sharp, with a chiselled face as though it were etched from stone. Two blooming seas of red fire bled from what would be their eyes. Contained and calm, a look of intelligence and intent propagated from their gaze.
Raising their left arm, a black key rested upon it.
And before a large gateway marked by a lone moon, he entered the key.
Opening a path to who knows where.
---
CREAK
THUD
Opening the gateway, Aldric readied his [Sundered Sorrow] as he began to climb a spiral staircase.
Reaching the end, a massive cathedral-like hall shrouded in darkness filled his sight.
One that was strangely familiar.
'Where do I remember this –'
Interrupting his thoughts, an unfamiliar voice spoke out from the dark.
"So you finally arrived."
A pulse of uncertainty drenched his mind.
Drawing his blade in a defensive position, he looked around him. Attempting to see the origin of the voice.
"Singularity."
The voice called out.
*****
Thanks for reading.
What did you think? Where is he and who is this unfamiliar voice? And most importantly, how do they know him?
Calipisiu_, I like where you're going.
I have a big announcement for the next chapter; the 100th chapter of Shadow Slave: Possibilities Without Meaning. So be ready.
Till the next one.