Timeless Prominence

An unknown amount of time passed, and Rein found himself sitting on the roof of his hut, staring at the clear night sky. The stars winked at him as they always did. The moon was bright and round, but its light was cold and uncaring.

After today’s events, he could not help but feel that the Gods in the heavens are truly heartless…

His thoughts were surprisingly continued by Master Yirn, who had appeared on the roof beside Rein at this very time.

“For the heavens have long shattered, and its false Gods forevermore fallen.

Afterall, what is a man’s achievement if it is given?

Thus, did we pay the price for freedom!”

Rein closed his eyes in contemplation. Yes. Who knows for certain if these devilish advancers would definitely meet their end? Who knows if those the forces behind the Golden Desert Town massacre will ever be punished?

He balled his fists. If Master Yirn is right… then he himself has the freedom to exact that will. To craft a path of an enduring might and see his will through to the very end!

Master Yirn moved on to convey his main message-- likely his primary goal for the visit. “We trained you for a goal. Your role is simple-- enter the Hall of Heroes, and through their investigative forces, find that which instigated this chaos.”

Rein bowed his head and accepted his role. In fact, his heart brimmed with determination-- the Hall of Heroes is an influential and powerful organization, having connections and resources that Rein himself could use for his own ends if he successfully establishes his position within the organization.

Master Yirn raised his arm, and Rein’s soak staff appeared in his grasp. “Your blood, half-disciple.”

Rein wasn’t sure what this was about, but he went along with it, using the ring-hilted dagger to make a small cut on his index finger.

A drop of blood seeped out, and Master Yirn, with a flick of his sleeve, controlled the drop of blood to float to him in the air.

Master Yirn’s eyes shone as the drop of blood extended into strings that twisted and bent, forming a three dimensional inscription similar to the shape of the soak staff.

The two identical structures overlapped each other, before the bloody inscription glowed for a heartbeat, then was absorbed into the soak staff.

“Just a protection of sorts.”

“Here.” Master Yirn then reached forth and hung a necklace made of simple interlocked links around Rein’s neck. Every single link had many intricate inscriptions etched carefully on both the inner and outer rings.

“This will obscure the presence of the tinge of beastkin aurae from the draconic metamorphose bead. As long as you do not come across a heavenly advancer.” Master Yirn’s eyes glowed again, and the inscriptions on the necklace lit up. The necklace sunk into Rein’s skin and completely disappeared from view.

Rein was thankful, but also somewhat baffled.

“I am eternally grateful, Master Yirn… but why do you only take my as a half-disciple?” To his knowledge, Master Yirn had specifically created a set of body arts that would allow him to use the draconic body tempering magics.

Then there was the Soak Staff, now augmented with a sort of blood-related protection magic. And, the necklace. Would a Master do this much for just a half-disciple?

“Do you know of karmic magic?” Master Yirn, too, gazed at the stars as he sat down with his legs crossed. It was quite rare for Rein to actually talk to Master Yirn for any extended period of time-- in fact, it had never happened. “When two beings interact, form too deep of a bond… this karmic magic can be used to indirectly find you. Identify you. Track you.”

Rein certainly had no desire to be found by whoever this Master of his had offended. He did not have the strength to bear such a burden. 

“A simpler answer? We are not fated.” The ancient advancer beamed as his eyes twinkled like the stars in the sky, temporarily giving off the air of a joyous, living-in-the-moment youth.

Again, with fate, Rein inwardly groaned. Did all advancers follow ‘fate’? He had a clear memory of Blacksmith Tiehr declaring it was fate for the draconic metamorphose bead to become a part of him. Then, there was that dragon-in-human-form who had opted to let him go.

“Rein. You’ve mastered the human forms that I created for the draconic beastkin art, yes? Take it out.”

Rein nodded. He climbed down from the roof of the hut, and returned to the top after retrieving the scroll from within.

Master Yirn exhaled, and to Rein’s consternation, flames ignited on the scroll. To Rein’s relief, the flames only burned away the section that Master Yirn modified. Master Yirn was obviously concerned that some might grow suspicious if they were to find this scroll on Rein.

“The rest of the scroll is fine. You may not know this but… during the Age of Chaos, the beastkin, fearful of the rise of humanity… They intentionally released their beastkin arts into the human population hoping to lead them astray. These beastkin magical art manuals are littered across the realms. Many humans, in their desire for power, attempted to master these magical arts, only to find themselves losing control of their minds and bodies…”

“Fallen devils…?” whispered Rein.

“Yes. But the devils had long existed before this event. The beastkin simply figured that a human, whose body is different from a beastkin, would find their minds and bodies in dissonance when attempting to master a beastkin magical art. After all, that dissonance is the cause of devilization.”

“Is that why you reject psychedelics? And…a different kind of devil?” Rein had never thought that there were different kinds of fallen devils. But the information he had received certainly suggested that.

“Indeed.” A curt answer to both questions.

Rein fell silent, wondering what else he didn’t know. And what Master Yirn might know.

At length, Rein decided to ask a question that he wasn’t certain Master Yirn would answer. But, this Master of his was rather talkative today, so he thought it worth the shot.

“Master.  My origin ability. Do you know how it develops? Did you… encounter a previous user?”

Master Yirn remained silent, and Rein thought he had overreached with this question.

“Rein,” Master Yirn eventually replied after a few hundred heartbeats. “Origin abilities are never completely the same. Advancer magics, too, are never the same. We, as individuals, do not manifest even identical advancer arts the same. A most elementary spell, a fireball, can have different paramters under a calm individual versus an aggressive user. That difference will further manifest when these two different individuals grow. It is for you to discover.”

“As for the previous user… yes. I have met her. I never knew her on a personal level. She was a mountain-folk, or as some like to call them, the dwarves. Hunted to extinction by the dragons. I wish I could have gotten to know her. Eventually, the remnant dwarves could only survive by breeding with humans. I like to think we are part-dwarves.”

“She was… killed by the dragons…?”

“I’m not sure what happened to her,” sighed Master Yirn with a shake of his head. “She was a famed dragonhunter in her time. But she vanished into the rivers of time, and never returned even when the dwarves were on the brink, screaming her name to the heavens. It was then that I became certain she was long gone…”

A cloud in the sky temporarily blocked off the moon and the stars. After twenty heartbeats, the night breeze shifted the clouds again and Rein found himself blessed again by the silvery moonlight.

“Rein.” Master Yirn’s voice turned serious with weight. “Before you leave… I need to give you a final warning. Origin abilities have weaknesses. Not in terms of combat. It’s more to do with… the nature and influence of said origin ability resulting from overdependence.”

“My origin skill…?” Rein perked up his ears, wishing to understand his own weakness.

“Your origin skill, for one, cannot directly attack another. But that is not its true weakness. It can be used to support devastating attacks. The weakness of your origin skill is its influence on you. Will you dive into unknown dangers, believing you could easily escape every single time? Will you run from your troubles, believing the skill could take you to a safe and new location every single time?”

“The previous user… she vanished without a word. It is my belief that at a critical juncture… she chose escape and found herself never able to return. There are some things that you cannot run from, Rein. Don’t be led astray by the strength of your origin skill. Don’t let it infect your mind.”

“How about half-senior Chenhr’s origin ability?” Rein’s curiosity was piqued. Perhaps if he understood more on these types of weaknesses, he would be able to overcome an enemy with an origin ability in the future.

“Chenhr’s origin ability gathers and stores aurae to an extreme extent, thus depriving the body of transformation from the aurae. This is why Chenhr is still stuck as an inner advancer.”

“But it’s more than that. Whenever Chenhr uses his origin skill in combat, the origin ability will need to regain that lost aurae, further delaying his advancement. Imagine entering combat, knowing that if you were to use your origin ability, your advancement would suffer. Combined with the decreased rate due to your aurae being absorbed by the origin skill…”

“I, too, knew the previous user of Chenhr’s origin ability. He died in combat-- at a critical juncture, he opted not to use his origin ability, in fear of jeopardizing his own advancement. The nature of the origin skill had infected his mind with poor judgment.” Master Yirn sounded melancholic to Rein’s ears. Perhaps Master Yirn had much closer ties to this other previous user.

That was only for a moment, though. Master Yirn dispelled the mood in but a few heartbeats and stood onto his feet.

“Have your last supper with Chenhr’s family.” He ordered as his image melded into the shadows.

Rein took a deep breath, then exhaled, relieved to have finally spoken to Master Yirn at an extended length. As for a meal with Chenhr? He would have to suffer through it. Although he was thankful for Chenhr’s teachings, he would never admit it openly. Chenhr had thrown one-too-many verbal jabs at him.

Anyhow, Rein had long known the location of Chenhr’s abode, but he had never been there. Chenhr naturally never invited him nor communicated any personal matters. Hence, he was extremely surprised when he was welcomed into Chenhr’s hut by a woman that looked to be in her twenties, and a five year old child.

“I’m Xeelsi, Chenhr’s wife.” Her wide smile made Rein feel at home.

The young boy had no fear or hesitation, raising his arms and demanding, “New uncle! play!” Even though this was his first time meeting Rein.

Chenhr’s shadow appeared in the background, and his face was inscrutable to Rein.

Chenhr was probably being forced to entertain him by Master Yirn… Rein himself knew very well that Chenhr would never voluntarily invite him, ‘a dangerous element’, to his home.

“Have you met the other uncle and auntie? They haven’t visited in a long time!” The young boy seemed rather sorrowful about this.

With a shake of the head, Rein frowned at this boy’s question. He had never met these other half-disciples of his.

But he gleaned some information. This boy is only five or six years old. That can only mean that a few of the first, second, or fourth to seventh disciples were still around within the last three to four years…

He glanced at Chenhr inquisitively, but Chenhr remained silent and unreadable. Chenhr had clearly avoided informing his son of the other disciples’ exits, and Rein had only developed the vaguest of guesses regarding one-- probably, one of them had become devilish in nature in their desire to rise in the advancer world.

The inside of Chenhr’s home was minimalistic. That was to be expected in this hidden village. Mudbrick walls, combined with straws in targeted areas, and of course, inscriptions to strengthen the material.

They sat around a table over dinner, an awkward silence in the air. This was quickly broken by the young boy’s incessant questions.

“Uncle, where do you come from?” Rein did not wish to answer, thus he remained silent. The young boy continued unperturbed.

“Will you visit more often? There aren’t many others I get to play with here!”

The young boy held up a wooden block that had mechanisms and fake inscriptions across the surface. No doubt, if one matched the inscriptions, the block would probably get ‘unlocked’.

He was rather endearing, his curiosity not unlike Jein in Rein’s memory.

As Rein brought the warm chicken and bone broth to his lips, he suddenly felt tearful, and his chest and throat quenched up, though he was unable to fully acknowledge his own heart. A tear rolled down his left cheek.

“Why are you crying, uncle? I do love mom’s cooking!”

“Now, now, sit still and put down your toy, Dusen. Stop with the questions. Everyone can sometimes feel lonely!” Xeelsi had a warm smile as she rescued Rein from his predicament.

Yes, he really was more or less alone… Everything he had-- gone. Rein reigned in his emotions at this juncture, feeling rather embarrassed at his own loss of control. 

Dusen nodded in agreement. “I’m lonely here too! At least I have a new uncle!” His smile was wide as he said this.

“Listen to your mom and finish your meal,” Chenhr monotonously interjected. “Your new uncle will be busy and won’t be able to come again for a long while.”

Yes… the mission to the Hall of Heroes in the Green Trout City.

Rein spent a short time messing around with the wooden block toy under Dusen’s gaze. The young boy had clearly spent too much time with this block, knowing exactly when Rein twisted a mechanism in the wrong order. Rein naturally cheated by observing Dusen’s all-too-obvious expressions that hinted at the right twist of each mechanism.

However, Dusen was soon dragged off to bed by Xeelsi, who left Rein and Chenhr with a kind smile.

Chenhr then forced out a torrent of his signature yellow aurae onto the wooden floorboards, which lit up the inscription pattern lining the whole room, causing the windows and doors to snap close to completely insulate the half-disciples.

Rein himself felt rather nervous, but not due to the mission at hand. Rather, it was that this whole time, Chenhr had yet to throw any barbs at Rein. It felt incredibly unnatural.

“Here.” Chenhr threw a thin booklet onto the table. The booklet had the phrase ‘Aurae Blast’ written in the language of inscription on the front cover.

As Rein skimmed through it, he noticed that this was similar to the skill the Chenhr had used so many times. The skill was meant for an inner-to-shell stage advancer, but should certainly remain useful for an outer advancer as well. It taught one how to gather the aurae in one’s body, before guiding and forcing the aurae outwards in a specific method through the channels within the body.

The only downside to it was that it could only be used once before the user completely ran out of their own aurae, at least for an inner advancer. The only difference between this skill and Chenhr’s was that Chenhr had the ability to do this endlessly thanks to the nature of his origin skill.

“Now. This is just a skill useful if you are at the end of your ropes. This unique skill could be the difference between surviving an errant magical skill from some powerful advancer and death.”

He proceeded to inform Rein about his investigations.

“Now. Do not worry about your little secret origin skill. As I have mentioned before, that devil corpse advancer’s mind was shattered when I used that aurae ‘needle’ on him. And as usual it falls to me to do the explanations for the Master.”

Chenhr picked up a liquor pot, gave it a swill before pouring a clear liquid into two porcelain bowls. He gestured at Rein to take a sip, but well… Rein felt completely befuddled by Chenhr’s offer.

He did not expect Chenhr to initiate such a moment. As Rein had grown up in a merchant family, he was somewhat aware of the meaning of sharing liquor-- more often than not, it was a sign of letting down your guard to build a sort of ‘companionship’, odd as that may sound particularly since merchants' deals were made obviously, for profit.

He even half-thought that Chenhr wanted to commemorate his death in the upcoming mission with a farewell drink.

“Drink!” demanded the normally cold and critical middle-aged man. “Sometimes, we do need to release our sorrows!”

Rein acquiesced. A sip was enough to burn his throat, yet with it came a heat that warmed his heart.

“Truly a unique copy of mortal alcohol,” mused Chenhr. “For ages, advancers could not get drunk due to their inherent resilience against weak poisons. Though, soon enough, the advancer world discovered a method to create a similar effect for advancers as well.”

He tilted his head backward, swallowing the entire volume of the white liquor in from the porcelain bowl.

“Now, onto the main objective, half-junior. You see… we have been investigating the undercurrents in this nation for a short period of time since our arrival in this realm. Let me cut to the chase. We’ve discovered that the current head of the ruling clan--the Dingien-- that leads the Minhr Nation is on his deathbed.”

“And as is typical, similar to the Houses format of the mortal realm, in the advancer world, these clans occasionally have conflict over inheritance.”

“You probably have realized by now, that due to the fact that this is the ruling clan in Minhr, many different factions and other lesser clans seek to put their weight behind one of the scions within the clan, for their own benefit.”

At this point, Chenhr leaned forward as to punctuate his next words.

“That, my dear half-junior, is precisely the issue, and the source of your hometown’s demise. One of the scions had no doubt in some form or fashion, sought help from the devil sects hiding within the empty wild expanse to the west of the Evergreen Mountains.”