A Banner Torn (Book 1 Complete)

Kaelid:

The forest path felt different in spring. He breathed deeply, savoring the scent of new growth and damp earth. Beside him, Rannek walked with the same eager anticipation, their footsteps falling into a familiar rhythm. Behind them came Brannic, his larger frame moving with surprising grace through the underbrush.

"Do you think Curio will be fully awake?" Rannek asked, ducking beneath a low-hanging branch.

He nodded. "Elder Myra said the deep hibernation ends when the heartwood trees bloom." He gestured to the white flowers dotting the branches above them. "And look."

The clearing appeared ahead, bathed in dappled sunlight. As they approached, he felt a familiar tingle in his chest where the core shard rested. It had grown more sensitive to Curio's presence over the months, like recognizing an old friend before seeing them.

"I feel it too," Rannek murmured, placing a hand over his own chest.

The clearing looked much as they had left it in autumn, though spring had brought new growth around its edges. At first, he saw no sign of Curio. Then, a ripple of movement caught his eye near the center of the clearing. The ground seemed to shift and flow, colors swirling beneath the surface before rising into a familiar amorphous shape.

"Curio," he called out, unable to contain his excitement.

The slime's form solidified further, taking on the pearlescent blue-green hue they remembered. Its surface rippled in what he had come to recognize as greeting.

"Young ones return," Curio's voice resonated in air of the clearing, familiar yet somehow deeper than before and coming from no one location in particular. "And the scaled one accompanies. We welcome you all."

Brannic inclined his head respectfully. "It's good to see you well, Curio."

Kaelid stepped forward, feeling the warmth of the core shard intensify. "We've missed you. We have so much to tell you about our journey to Highpass."

Curio's form shifted, extending a tendril toward them. "This one has been... dreaming. Beneath the soil, connected to the roots and stones. Many thoughts have come. Many patterns observed." The tendril withdrew, and Curio's form settled into a more stable shape. "But this one wishes to hear of your experiences first. The world beyond is unknown to this one."

They settled in a semicircle before Curio, and he began recounting their journey. He described the bustling streets of Highpass, the towering buildings, and most importantly, the living library. As he spoke, Curio's form rippled with interest, occasionally shifting color to reflect its emotions.

"A consciousness in books," Curio mused when he described the library. "Not unlike this one's kind, who exist as patterns rather than fixed forms. We would like to interact with it at some point maybe"

"It gave us this," he said, carefully removing the journal from his satchel. "It's... special. Its umm a smart book, i think. It can sense things and learn new stuff."

Curio's form shifted closer, examining the journal without touching it. "This one senses energy patterns. Different from this one's own, yet... familiar in structure. Is it… alive?"

Kaelid looked at the book hesitating slightly. "I don't know, I wouldn't know how to tell but it feels safe."

Rannek nodded leaned forward. "It writes by itself sometimes. And it can gather information about things around it."

"Show us," Curio requested.

Kaelid opened the journal to a blank page and had curio extend a tendril to touch the page lightly. The book warmed slightly to the tough as he saw its energy flow out and ripple through curio for an instant before echoing back to the book. Words began to appear on the page:

Entity detected : Classification - Amorphous consciousness construct. -Core structure analysis: Multiple processing nodes arranged in fluid network. Energy signature: Harmonic resonance pattern with localized variations. -Corestone memories : detected but inaccessible. -Species : slime (blue) -Energy flow : minimal (injured or tired)

Curio's surface rippled rapidly, colors shifting in what he recognized as surprise. "This one is... being observed. Analyzed. The pattern feels... intrusive."

"I'm sorry," he said, quickly closing the journal. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Not discomfort," Curio clarified. "Surprise. This one has not encountered such direct observation from an external consciousness before."

Brannic, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. "The journal seems to have a similar function to your ability to sense and analyze, Curio. Though perhaps more... mechanical in its approach."

"Yes," Curio agreed. "This one senses purpose in its patterns. A predator's focus, though not one that hunts flesh. It hunts... information."

He looked down at the journal with new eyes. "A predator?"

"Not all predators consume life," Curio explained. "Some consume energy. Others, knowledge. This one suspects your journal feeds on patterns, on information gathered."

"We've learned something else," Rannek said excitedly. "Kaelid taught me to send out a pulse, like the journal does. We can share information through our shards."

Curio's form stilled completely, an unusual reaction that he had rarely seen. "Show this one."

He extended his hand toward Curio, hesitating just before contact. "May I?"

A small tendril extended from Curio's main mass. "Proceed."

He touched the tendril gently, focusing on the core shard in his chest. He visualized the pulse pattern he had learned from the journal, directing it through his fingertips into Curio's form. The connection felt different from his link with Rannek, more fluid and expansive, like dropping a stone into a deep pool rather than a shallow stream.

The effect was immediate. Curio's entire form flashed with brilliant colors, rippling outward from the point of contact. The slime withdrew rapidly, its shape fluctuating wildly before stabilizing again.

"This... this is unexpected," Curio's mental voice seemed shaken. "The fragments this one gave you... they have evolved beyond their original purpose."

"Is that bad?" Kaelid asked, suddenly concerned.

"Not bad. Different. New." Curio moved closer again. "This one did not know such direct communication was possible. The fragments were meant to store and share knowledge, yes, but not to... transmit patterns in this way."

"Can you do it too?" Rannek asked. "Send a pulse like we do?"

"This one must... consider. Adapt." Curio's form shifted thoughtfully. "The pattern you shared is unlike this one's natural methods. But not incompatible."

Brannic, who had been watching with keen interest, asked, "What does this mean for the boys, Curio? Are these changes something we should be concerned about?"

"Change is the nature of growth," Curio replied. "These young ones are becoming something new. Neither fully human nor like this one's kind. A bridge, perhaps."

He felt a mixture of pride and unease at Curio's words. "Elder Myra has been helping us understand our abilities. She calls what we're experiencing 'sympathetic resonance' with the world."

"A fitting description," Curio agreed. "Though incomplete. This one senses more than resonance. Transformation."

They spent the next hour sharing more details of their journey and training. He described Elder Myra's lessons in focusing the pulse, Brannic's combat awareness training, and their experiments with the journal. Throughout, Curio listened attentively, occasionally asking questions that revealed its deep Curiosity about the world beyond its clearing.

As the conversation continued, he remembered something else. "Curio, there's someone else who knows about you. Marta, the baker's daughter. She was with us in Highpass, and she knows about our abilities. She's been training with us too."

Curio's form shifted, colors darkening slightly. "Another human knows of this one's existence?"

"She's trustworthy," Rannek assured quickly. "She helped us when Kaelid was injured. She's kept our secret all this time."

"She was there when my arm healed in one day when it should have taken weeks, its when we told her the whole story."

Curio was silent for a long moment, its surface rippling in what he had come to recognize as deep thought. "This one is... cautious about new connections. Humans have not always been kind to those who are different."

"Marta is different too," Brannic said. "She sees the world clearly, without the prejudices many carry. I would not have included her in the boys' training otherwise."

Finally, Curio's colors lightened again. "This one will meet your friend. Cautiously. Trust must be earned, but this one trusts your judgment."

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, they prepared to leave. Before they did, he had one more question. "Curio, do you think you could interact with the journal directly? Maybe you could understand it better than we can."

"Perhaps," Curio replied. "This one would approach such interaction carefully. Predators recognize other predators, even those who hunt different prey."

Curio:

We watched the humans depart, their forms disappearing among the trees. When they were gone, it allowed its shape to relax, spreading out across the clearing floor in relief. Maintaining a coherent form for extended periods still required effort, especially so soon after hibernation.

The winter had been... educational. Unlike the deep sleep of previous years, this hibernation had been filled with dreams and connections. Spreading its essence through the soil, we had touched the roots of ancient trees, felt the slow pulse of stones, and sensed the dormant life waiting for spring's return. The experience had changed it, expanded its awareness in ways it was still processing.

But the boys had changed more.

The fragments we had given them before winter, imperfect nucleation products it had considered flawed, had merged with the young humans in unprecedented ways. The pulse Kaelid had shared was unlike anything in our experience. Not slime communication, not human speech, but something new. A bridge between different types of consciousness.

And then there was the journal.

It reformed a portion of its mass into a more concentrated shape, focusing its awareness. The energy pattern of the journal lingered in its memory, distinct and troubling. Not because it was threatening, but because it was familiar in a way our memories couldn't quite identify to us. Like encountering a distant relative whose features echo one's own, but whose nature remains foreign.

A predator that hunts information. The description felt right, though incomplete. The journal's consciousness was fragmented, partial, a piece of something larger. Like a tendril extended from a greater mass.

It had encountered such entities before, in the deep places beneath the earth. Ancient consciousnesses that existed as networks rather than individuals. Some benevolent, some indifferent, some hostile. The journal seemed to be a fragment of such a network, though whether it maintained connection to its source remained unclear.

The boys trusted it. We were less certain.

It would need to examine the journal directly, taste its energy patterns, understand its purpose. But such interaction would require preparation. One did not casually approach a predator, even one that hunted something other than flesh.

It extended its awareness outward, feeling the pulse of the forest around it. The Deep-Pulse, as the humans called it. The name was adequate, if simplistic. What humans perceived as a single flow was actually countless interwoven patterns, a symphony of energies that connected all living things.

The boys were learning to hear that symphony. The journal was recording it. That pulse was a part of us as we were part of it, had always been part of it.

Perhaps that was why the fragments had bonded with the boys so completely. They were already attuned to the Deep-Pulse in ways most humans were not. Special, in ways even they didn't fully understand.

It settled into the earth, preparing for the night. Tomorrow, it would begin crafting new patterns, preparing for direct interaction with the journal. And perhaps, for meeting this new human, Marta.

Change was coming. It could feel it in the Deep-Pulse, rippling outward from the boys like stones dropped in still water. Whatever they were becoming, whatever the journal's true nature, we would adapt. It was, after all, what slimes did best.

It would play with this information pulse the smaller one has taught it, and think on what it might be able to teach in a similar way, core to core.

Kaelid :

Evening had settled over Aldermere by the time he returned home. After a quiet dinner with his mother and uncle, he retreated to his room, the journal clutched in his hands. The conversation with Curio had left him with more questions than answers, particularly about the journal's nature.

A predator that hunts information.

He sat cross-legged on his bed, the journal open before him. Its pages remained blank, waiting. In the months since returning from Highpass, he had grown more comfortable with its presence, with the way it gathered and presented information. But Curio's words had cast it in a new light.

"What are you, really?" he whispered, running his fingers over the empty page.

No response came. The journal remained inert, as it often did when not actively used.

He closed his eyes and focused on the core shard in his chest. Its warmth had become a constant companion, flaring brighter during training or when he used his abilities. Now, he directed that energy outward, not in the information-gathering pulse he had mastered, but to mimic the journal's own energy pattern.

He had observed that pattern countless times, when the journal wrote by itself, when it analyzed objects or people. It was distinct from his own pulse, more structured, with a rhythmic quality that reminded him of heartbeats.

The shard warmed in response to his focus, but the energy refused to flow in the pattern he envisioned. It was like trying to write with his left hand, awkward, imprecise.

Frustrated, he opened his eyes and placed his hand on the journal. "Show me my page," he commanded softly.

The journal responded immediately. Words flowed across the previously blank page:

SUBJECT: KAELID STATUS: BONDED CORE FRAGMENT INTEGRATION: 78% COMPLETE ABILITIES: - PULSE PERCEPTION (MASTERY: 42%) - ENVIRONMENTAL AWARENESS (MASTERY: 56%) - COMBAT ANTICIPATION (MASTERY: 31%) - INFORMATION FILTERING (MASTERY: 27%) NOTES: Subject demonstrates accelerated learning curve. Sympathetic resonance with secondary subject (RANNEK) enhances skill acquisition. Recommend continued paired training exercises.

He stared at the page, focusing intently on the pattern of energy that created the words. It wasn't just the visible text that interested him, but the underlying structure, the way the journal's energy formed the information.

As he concentrated, something unexpected happened. The core shard in his chest pulsed rhythmically, matching the pattern he observed in the journal. Heat spread through his body, centering behind his eyes. His vision blurred momentarily, then cleared to reveal something extraordinary.

Floating in the air before him, visible only to his enhanced perception, was a glowing outline that mirrored the journal page. Translucent, golden lines formed the same categories and information, hanging in space like a window into another reality.

He gasped, breaking his concentration. The vision flickered and vanished.

Heart racing, he focused again, trying to recapture the pattern. The shard responded more readily this time, as if it had learned from the first attempt. The glowing outline reappeared, fainter but still visible.

He reached out to touch it, but his fingers passed through the apparition. It wasn't physical, but a projection of some kind, visible only through his connection to the shard.

"It's like... seeing what the journal sees," he whispered to himself.

He experimented further, discovering that he could maintain the vision for nearly a minute before fatigue set in. The effort drained him quickly, like holding a heavy weight at arm's length. When he finally released his focus, the vision disappeared, leaving him tired but exhilarated.

This was something new, something neither Elder Myra nor Curio had mentioned. The ability to visualize information directly, without the journal as an intermediary. It was crude and limited for now, but Kaelid sensed its potential.

He closed the journal and lay back on his bed, mind racing with possibilities. If he could see his own information page, could he eventually see similar information about others? About objects or places? Could he learn to read the Deep-Pulse directly, as Curio seemed to?

The core shard pulsed gently in his chest, as if responding to his thoughts. Whatever he was becoming, whatever path these abilities were leading him down, it was far beyond what he had imagined when Curio first gave them the fragments.

As sleep began to claim him, his last conscious thought was of the journal, closed beside his bed. A predator that hunts information. And now, perhaps, he was becoming something similar.

He would need to be careful about what he hunted, and why.

The core shard pulsed once more, then settled into a gentle rhythm that matched his slowing heartbeat, carrying him into dreams filled with glowing patterns and flowing information, bridges between worlds he was only beginning to understand.