To Fly the Soaring Tides

Cira embarked on her second trial with high hopes of understanding something more about the Archive, but her success only raised more questions. She felt like she knew less than when she started, and the Archive's mysteries only grew in her heart.

Did it even have anything to do with the spring at all? Maybe I just need to get in there and look around.

"Okay, I've decided." Cira declared, "I will going to the Archive now."

"No, you will be staying with me." Destria's piercing blue eyes looked down at Cira like a child, "I need to inspect you to ensure you are not a danger to Icarus." She waved the High Arbiter and his retinue away with her hand, "The rest of you will wait. Begone."

Lady Orelia seemed about to pop a blood vessel, but Fitz spoke up before she could get a word in, "Very well. Cira, I would appreciate it if you could join us in the main hall when you are finished."

It only took a few moments for them to disappear in their own ways. Fitz and Eliza were most partial to simply vanishing, but Orelia blew away like dust in the wind. It struck Cira as a technique she could have some fun with.

Once everyone was gone, Cira looked over the lake. She could still feel that mysterious mana she took in, but now it could also be seen. She remembered that purple as the very same which granted her the first mark.

"Ah… I see." So, I was absorbing the Archive's ambient mana as it flowed through this island. "This little islet has become an extension of the Archive, hasn't it? Is that what makes a trial? The Archive's projection upon this world?"

That would leave one clear question—how? Does it choose the place or is it random? A consequence of environment?

"It took you this long to realize that base fact?" Destria did not hesitate to berate Cira, "Daedilus has studied the Archive since time immemorial. You could even call it his inspiration. And in all that time, not once had he witnessed it assimilate within a living being. The man even tried forcing it to occur himself, but was unsuccessful. If I hadn't pulled you out when I did, you would have realized his long-sought after experiment. No one knows what would happen, but it would likely not be much different than death from your perspective."

"You know, at the end there I really was enjoying myself. Somehow, I doubt I would have regretted it, but that poses other problems." Cira felt the undine's words were resonant, and found herself a tad giddy that she had unraveled the mystery Daedilus supposedly pondered over countless millenia. If she had continued accepting the Archive's mana, she could have lived out her days as a peaceful spring lake. "I appreciate your help, Destria, but why do you care if I die? Sounds like an experiment even I'd be curious to see the outcome of. Daedilus is your old buddy or something, right?"

"Tch. Hardly. And I don't care if you die. But Lazulei deserves better. She's a good girl." Cira cocked her head, unsure how to react to that. "And if the Archive's mana warped you into something dangerous to Icarus, I will have failed in my obligation to watch over these many shores."

"What even is the Archive…?" If there was anyone old and wise enough to give her a coherent answer, it was probably this undine. That's what Cira figured anyway.

"Not even the Archon of Wisdom knows the complete answer to that question." Destria replied, "But functionally you may consider it a collection of all the knowledge within these skies. Its nature is unclear, but it grows in proportion with the understanding of those who live in this world. Even if you were to die today, everything you have ever learned will live on in the Archive."

Cira held up her finger in pause, "But… If that's true, then why does this Order even exist? Do the trials even mean anything?"

"It perplexes me how you passed even the first two." Destria slowly sighed, "To put it simply, both you and the Archive lack something in common." Cira blinked at the unprecedented insult she yet failed to comprehend. "Wisdom. The Archive accumulates all knowledge in this world, but wisdom is something which can only be achieved through experience. This is the element the Archive lacks, and which it seeks. Much like you."

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As if knowledge and wisdom were two sides of a coin, the Archive contained both, but could not produce its own of the latter. The realization dawned on Cira like a refreshing glass of spring water on a hot day. When the nameless second mark spoke of achieving a mere iota of wisdom, this was what he spent his whole life to achieve. To produce something completely novel to these skies since time immemorial, born from the life he alone lived and the experiences therein.

"Before you drift off again," Destria interrupted her thoughts, "I need to make sure your soul has not been corrupted."

That sounds bad… Cira thought, I've had enough of soul problems. If I have to head back to Acher and melt myself down again, I'm going to be pissed.

"Aaand, looks like you're okay. Surprisingly…" Cira's luck just might have been turning around. "But you withdrew a great deal of the Archive's mana. There is really no way of knowing what may happen if you tap into it, so I recommend avoiding that completely."

There was only one way to find out, as Cira always said. The process of sorcerous deduction would provide answers, but the risks were something to be considered. She did not wish to permanently become a lake, island, or anything similar. This was a conclusion Cira arrived at over much deliberation recently.

"I will consider your warning thoughtfully." Cira replied.

It seemed as if the conversation was over as silence grew between them, then Destria spoke up with a different tone than usual, "How did you do it, anyway? Daedilus was nothing if not thorough in his attempts to birth a living Trial of the Archive. I-I must know, for my own curiosity if nothing else."

Cira grinned. Usually, Destria seemed cold and haughty at best, but getting a glimpse of her curious personality was amusing. It reminded her of Undina when they met.

"Daedilus was looking at it all wrong, you see." Cira couldn't bring herself to pass up an opportunity to flex her infinite wisdom upon two of the oldest and wisest people she had ever heard of, even if only one was present. "Have you ever tried to just be water?"

Destria stared at her blankly for a few moments. "Cira… I am always water. You understand that, right?"

"Yeah, that's your problem right there." Cira casually crossed her arms and leaned back, "Sounds like you need a new perspective."

Destria clearly had more to say, but Cira dissipated into a shimmering mist before her wisdom could be tested. This was around the time she would normally train with Roman before she turned into water, but evidently Fitzgeralt wanted her to accept the complaints of his arbiters.

Cira already knew where they would be, so she manifested again in the center of the Rotunda in their meeting hall where she was first deemed a pureblood legacy.

Not on the floor at center stage, but floating on a cloud at around eye level with most of the arbiters. In the mush pot, as it were. There were even more present than on the day she landed.

"I have come as requested," Cira announced to the chamber, leveling her gaze to the High Arbiter, "And I will now hear everyone's complaints."

These simple words caused an uproar of sorts, much to Cira's surprise.

"How rude." She heard.

"Who does she think she is?"

Many voiced similar grievances, and Cira was completely lost. She thought she was being forthcoming, but they didn't like that either apparently. She spun around and around looking at all their faces, but grew only further from understanding.

If I weren't a second mark scholar, perhaps this would bother me. But Cira decided incomprehension was just a part of life sometimes. Satisfied, she swiveled back toward Fitzgeralt and waited for him to speak.

First, he slammed his fist into the desk before him. The sound echoed throughout the hall and the voices all stopped in unison.

"You disappoint me, my arbiters." How deep these words struck was palpable in the air, and Cira made sure not to make a peep. "Your voices have been heard, and I have fairly presented you with an opportunity to air your grievances directly to the source. Now begin. Anyone."

It was clear how exasperated he was with this situation. Cira felt a little bad that he had been dealing with it for weeks on her account.

"If I may," Lady Orelia's voice took advantage of the lull, "Your tendency to violence and outright disregard of our customs cannot stand. If this this is how you behave then it is no wonder the whole Boreal is in an uproar over you. Your insistence to involve yourself with our Order can only bring us disgrace and unwanted attention. It is a great disappointment to see how unlike your father you turned out to be."

Cira felt her blood boil as too many sharp glares needled into her from every direction. The woman had made reasonable points, too. Mostly. Fitzgeralt's face made it clear he would not interrupt the discourse, so Cira was left to her own devices. Much of her anger was pointed inwards, however, as she really threw herself into the middle of this mess.