Scarlett watched Rosa for several long seconds before turning her gaze back to the system windows hovering before her.
[Skills nu:
Upgrades
[Major Pyromancy] (50 points)
[Major Hydromancy] (50 points)
[Argent Hydrokinesis] (100 points | Spark of Divinity 0/1)
[Argent Mana Control] (100 points | Spark of Divinity 0/1)
New skills - Echoes
[Echo of Shattered Glass](150 points | Available)
[Echo of the Smouldering Crown] (200 points | Dormant)
[Echo of a Distant Tide] (200 points | Dormant)
[…]]
“I would have you bear responsibility if anything ill should co of this,” she eventually said.
“That's a bit of a lopsided unfairness, don't you think?”
“How else am I to justify the irritation of not knowing what is in that book, or why you insist upon this course?”
“You could simply choose to be a magnanimous villainess this once and let it go.”
“Hardly.”
Rosa chuckled. “Suppose I wouldn't have it any other way. Call crazy, but there's sothing oddly thrilling about having a scary lady throw snide remarks my way every so often.”
Scarlett’s eyes slid back to her. “…That is a sign of questionable ntal soundness.”
“I didn’t actually an for you to call crazy.”
“How unfortunate for you.” Scarlett turned back to the system window again, examining it one final ti before sighing. She raised her hand—an act that was entirely unnecessary—and extended a finger towards the ‘New skills’ section.
[Echo of Shattered Glass](150 points | Available)
Just like that, nearly every single point she had gained from clearing Beld Thylelion and its related trials was gone.
She could only hope this wouldn’t prove to be a mistake. The other two available Echoes, she at least had so inkling of what they might be, but this one really was a complete gamble.
There was a sound. Faint and brittle, yet sharp, like glass cracking under pressure. Scarlett’s eyes snapped to the centre of the office, where a distortion shimred in the air. It was like a suspended shard of a kaleidoscope: fragnts of mirrored panes twisting and folding into impossible angles that refracted the room in strange, splintered reflections.
“Huh. That's trippy,” Rosa said, leaning forward slightly.
Scarlett’s gaze moved to her. “You can see it?”
Rosa nodded. “I can. Any idea what it is?”
“No.” Scarlett studied the thing.
She assud this wasn’t all there was to it. If the so-called ‘Echo of Shattered Glass’ amounted to only this, she would have even more grievances to lay before The Other next they t.
Both of them sat in silence, waiting.
Eventually, Rosa exhaled. “I don’t think anything’s going to happen with us just sitting here.”
“No?” Scarlett asked dryly. “Then what would you suggest?”
“Hey now, no need for the tone, Missy. I'm only trying to help.”
“As ever you are. Yet you consistently manage to do far more than that.”
“Oh, well. Thank you very much,” Rosa said with mock primness.
Scarlett pressed her lips together. “…Genuinely, Rosa. Do you know what to do?”
The woman was quiet for a mont, her expression turning more serious. “I…think we have to enter it?”
“We?” Scarlett arched a brow.
Rosa t her eyes. “Yeah. Naturally. I'm not leaving you to do this on your own, Amy.”
Scarlett considered her for several seconds, then allowed herself a small smile. “Thank you.”
She turned back to the strange phenonon. “However, I am not entirely certain this is sothing we can both experience.”
Given its connection to the system, it was entirely possible only she could interact with it.
“Well, only one way to find out, isn’t there?” Rosa said, voice light again.
Scarlett rose from her seat and circled the desk, approaching the kaleidoscopic formation. Rosa joined her without hesitation.
Carefully, Scarlett extended a hand. The mont her fingertip touched the surface, it gave way like a mbrane of light. The mirrored planes folded and rippled, warping space around them and bending like curtains.
She and Rosa exchanged one last look. Then Scarlett drew a slow, steady breath — and stepped forward.
Her office dissolved around her, fracturing into a thousand shards that spun outward in dazzling arcs of glass and colour. The world folded in on itself, twisting through impossible reflections until all that remained was darkness. Yet her feet still found solid ground beneath her.
There was no sound. But she felt a faint shift behind her, indicating Rosa might have been able to follow after all.
Scarlett turned, but saw only shadow. She tried to summon a fla, but nothing appeared. Or rather, she could feel the fire burning just beyond reach, but its light was smothered. As though this place had no dium through which it could travel.
A hand brushed her shoulder, searching.
Scarlett glanced down at it, imagining the arm it belonged to and the woman at its end, holding that image in mind as she turned forward once more, scanning the dark. Then she spotted it. A tiny pinprick of illumination far in the distance.
She tapped Rosa’s hand, hoping the woman would understand, then began walking. The hand tightened briefly, and soon she sensed Rosa move up beside her. They advanced together.
Strangely, she lost almost all track of ti after that. The next thing she beca aware of was the light swelling before them, no longer a speck but a shimring lattice of glass-like geotry suspended in the void.
She stepped through.
Light and sound crashed back in on Scarlett, along with reality. But not the ordinary, familiar reality she knew. Instead, it was a displaced sense of reality, as though viewed from above and slightly askew.
A hollow wind moaned through the skeletons of splintered towers, carrying a crystalline hum, like soone running a fingertip along the rim of a broken chalice. The air quivered, thick with the scent of scorched tal and rain on ash. It was the sll of a world that had burned until even its ghosts had turned to dust.
Before her sprawled the deathbed of a civilisation.
Remnants of a city stretched across a vast basin, monuntal in scope and design. Streets lay buried under shattered debris, and avenues were torn open by deep fractures. Canals had hardened into ribbons of slag and stone. Tower fragnts jutted at crooked angles, their surfaces dull, reaching towards a colourless sky.
At the city’s heart stood the lower shell of a structure larger than all the rest. Its upper half was gone, collapsed into a ring of rubble that frad a wide crater. The crater’s centre glowed faintly, as if lit from beneath. A growth of translucent crystal rose there, spreading in veins through the scorched ground around it. Inside the formation, she caught the suggestion of a figure — motionless, and sohow haunted.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Scarlett stared.
Then the space rippled. The ash shifted. The world changed.
The ruins straightened as if exhaling. The dust thinned. Colour seeped back into stone and sky. Where the hush of death had reigned, it gave way to a low hum of echoing life.
The city lived again.
The towers stood whole now, their sides catching sunlight that filtered through a faint haze. Streets once fractured were smooth, lined with veins of pale crystal that glowed with steady light. Erald water ran through narrow canals, casting shifting reflections across walls and bridges. Even the air humd faintly, alive with quiet energy.
Figures moved through the streets — people clad in strangely layered robes of every colour, crossing bridges and open squares with structured purpose. The hum deepened as Scarlett watched them, as if each carried a spark of so vast power, and the city moved to a single, unseen rhythm.
At its heart rose that sa structure, now complete. Its surface shone with a translucent lustre, crowned by a cold radiance that reached into the sky, where its light refracted beneath an impossibly large lattice of luminous arrays, scattering soft beams down upon the city and filling the role of its sun.
The sight carried a unique harmony, a perfection so absolute it felt almost unreal. There was beauty here, but it was too deliberate—too exact—as though the city itself had been designed to erase the very notion of imperfection.
Then, without realisation, she was standing among its streets.
Groups of robed figures passed in quiet clusters around her, their movents graceful and almost perfectly symtrical up close. Like they’d rehearsed each step for a lifeti and refused to allow any variance. The buildings bordering the thoroughfare were a mix of crystal and polished stone, each seemingly flawless in proportion and sheen. Beneath her feet, faint lines of light ran through the paving, flowing from one structure to the next.
Scarlett’s gaze lingered on those glowing currents, studying their pulse before lifting her eyes to the people. They appeared mostly human, but to her senses, there was sothing off about them. An unnatural precision and flawlessness to their faces that made her skin prickle.
“Wow,” a voice sounded to her left. “This is a lot more unfair than I imagined. How was this even supposed to be done?”
Scarlett turned. Rosa stood a few paces away beside a narrow bridge, half-muttering to herself as she examined an illuminated crystal set into the railing.
“So, you were able to join here,” Scarlett said.
Rosa looked up, then grinned. “Oh. Hi there. Fancy seeing you here. And don’t sound so disappointed.”
“I was not trying to.”
The woman’s grin widened. “That’s the spirit.”
“What was it that you said just now?” Scarlett asked.
“Hmm?” Rosa tilted her head, then nodded towards the people moving about. “Just remarking on all the folk we’ve got walking around here. It’s unfair how perfect they get to look. Creepy, too. We stand out like a couple of ink stains on a window.” She gave a small snort. “Got any idea who these people are?”
Scarlett eyed her, then let her gaze drift across the pristine avenues. “I do not,” she admitted. None of the people were paying them any mind. “But I would suspect this was once one of the many worlds fashioned by Ti and Fate,” she went on. “Or a snapshot of one.”
“A snapshot?” Rosa gave her a curious look.
“A frozen mont, if you will.”
Ti had supposedly unmade many of the worlds he’d helped shape, but his introduction of the Anomalous One proved he could still draw forth remnants of what was lost, even if the original was gone. If The Other was the one who had crafted this Echo, then perhaps he wielded that power here.
Scarlett frowned slightly and summoned her system window.
[Na: Scarlett Hartford]
[Skills:
[Major Mana Control]
[Superior Pyromancy]
[Argent Pyrokinesis]
[Superior Hydromancy]
[Major Hydrokinesis]
[̼̭̬̋̈́̒͜ ̧̘̜́ͣ͛͛ͅ ͚̜̓͜ͅ ̢̰͚̾̏ͅ ̮̿͆̒͠ ̢̾̏ͅ ̢̰̾̏ͅ]]
[Traits:
[Dignified August]
[Supercilious]
[Cavalier]
[Callous]
[Overbearing]
[Conceited]
[Third-rate Mana Veins]]
[Mana: 13104/13148]
[Points: 3]
[Skills nu:
Upgrades
[Major Pyromancy] (50 points)
[Major Hydromancy] (50 points)
[Argent Hydrokinesis] (100 points | Spark of Divinity 0/1)
[Argent Mana Control] (100 points | Spark of Divinity 0/1)
New skills - Echoes
[Echo of Shattered Glass](In progress)
[Echo of the Smouldering Crown] (200 points | Dormant)
[Echo of a Distant Tide] (200 points | Dormant)
[…]]
No new skills. No quests. No hints or guidance from the system at all.
What was she supposed to do from here?
“So, I guess we’re ant to find that ‘Last Glasswright’ person to start with,” Rosa said beside her.
Scarlett turned to her. “What?”
“That’s what we’re supposed to do, isn’t it?” Rosa replied, as if the answer were obvious.
Scarlett’s frown deepened. “What makes you say that?”
Rosa blinked. “You didn’t get the news?”
“What news? Rosa, this is not the ti for jokes.”
The woman studied her for a mont, then scratched her chin, looking slightly uneasy. “Sorry. I genuinely thought you’d have seen it too.”
“Seen what, exactly?”
“Erm… I’m not entirely sure?”
Scarlett’s eyes narrowed.
“No, really,” Rosa said quickly, raising both hands. “I just had this sense when we arrived — that we’re supposed to find soone called the Last Glasswright. Maybe it’s a bit like one of those quests you told about?”
Scarlett’s eyes only narrowed further. “And why would you receive such an instruction, and not I?”
Rosa shrugged. “Excellent question. You wouldn’t happen to have the answer tucked away sowhere, would you?”
“No.”
“Sha, that.”
Scarlett scrutinised her a mont longer before letting out a slow breath. “…Can you tell why we must find this ‘Glasswright’?”
Rosa offered an apologetic smile. “Nope. Sorry.”
Scarlett shook her head. “Do not apologise. You can reserve that for when you inevitably have cause to.”
“Isn’t it better to get the small apologies out of the way early?” Rosa said with a grin. “The tiny ones now, so I can save the grand ballad of regret later when I really annoy you.”
“That would be worse. And once more, Rosa — not the ti for jokes.”
“Sorry.”
Scarlett glanced at her, unsure whether that was also ant to be a joke, but ultimately chose to ignore it. She turned and began walking towards the nearest building, which appeared to be a narrow shopfront of sorts selling what she assud were trinkets. Bracelets, rings, and other small ornants. A single man stood behind the counter, dressed in robes boasting nearly every colour of the rainbow and a few extra besides, woven in patterns so dense it was impossible to make them all out.
Frankly, the sight offended Scarlett’s sensibilities to the point that even the Amy part of her found it distasteful.
The man had unnaturally smooth features, irises like molten silver, and hair the colour of marigolds in bloom.
“Excuse ,” Scarlett began, stopping before the shop. “Do you understand ?”
At first, she thought he was looking down at sothing beneath the counter. Then she realised his eyes were closed.
Had he been asleep?
Her voice seed to draw him back. His eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked several tis, his gaze sweeping across the street with a faint frown before settling roughly on her. For a heartbeat, he appeared not to register her at all. When he finally did, his brow tightened further.
“Impure,” was all he said.
Scarlett stilled. “…What was that?”
He waved her off with a flick of his hand. “Away. Your defect disrupts my Stillwork. You interrupt.”
Scarlett had to school her expression to keep from snapping.
“Hey now, no need for the na-calling,” Rosa said, stepping up beside her. “We just wanted to ask a question, that’s all.”
The man’s gaze slid to her, registering her presence with visible distaste. “Two Impures. Your companion is worse, but I will not have either of you disturbing my workspace. Leave, now.”
Scarlett’s jaw tightened.
Rosa rested a hand on her shoulder. Then, with an outwardly pleasant smile, she addressed the man. “Alright, we’ll go. Sorry to interrupt your thriving trade. Must be exhausting, fending off all these custors.”
His eyes twitched, but before he could reply, Rosa turned, tugging Scarlett gently away. By the ti they’d taken a few steps, the man’s attention had already drifted elsewhere, his expression blank, as if they no longer existed.
“Well,” Rosa said lightly, withdrawing her hand. “I’m guessing we’re dealing with a city of jerks. And unless we fancy you setting soone’s multicoloured backside on fire and having whatever passes for the local guards descend on us, maybe best not to poke the locals too much.”
Scarlett glanced back at the shopkeeper. His eyes were closed again. “…You may be right.”
“I keep telling you, it’s a dreadful habit of mine. I just can’t stop it.”
Scarlett turned to her, watching her in silence.
Rosa stopped mid-step and t her gaze. “What? Do I have sothing on my face?”
“No.”
“Then has my devastating beauty stunned you into silence?”
“No.”
“Then are you hoping that if you stare long enough it’ll burn a hole straight through my head?”
Scarlett waited several seconds. “…He described you as less impure than .”
Rosa’s eyebrows rose. “Are you jealous?”
“No.”
“Angry?”
“Yes, but that is beside the point.” Scarlett stepped closer, peering at her more intently. Rosa blinked, retreating half a step and lifting a hand awkwardly to the back of her neck. “I don’t mind you looking,” she said, “but you don’t have to look that hard.”
“I am attempting to discern what exactly he ant.”
What about Scarlett was considered less ‘pure’? Appearance?
While Rosa was far from ugly—most would probably call her the opposite—the freckles across her nose and the untad curl of her hair stood in sharp contrast to the polished perfection of the people around them. And while Scarlett wasn’t one to indulge in vanity, she imagined that a society prizing those things would prefer her over Rosa.
So was it strength, then? That seed even less likely. Even if he could perceive sothing like that with a glance, Scarlett could easily overpower the bard. Then maybe—
“It’s our mana,” Rosa said.
Scarlett paused. “…Our mana?”
Rosa nodded, her expression sobering as she glanced around. “I suppose you’d have a harder ti sensing it, but everyone here is practically bursting with mana. Or sothing close to it, at least. They’re not even trying to hide it — like they’re proud of it. Honestly, it’s scary. The control and refinent they’ve got…it’s like watching hundreds of arch mages just casually strolling about.”
Scarlett’s eyes widened slightly.
Rosa smiled, though a trace of irritation lingered beneath. “To them, soone like you probably looks like a walking eyesore.”
“…Because I have [Third-rate Mana Veins],” Scarlett said.
She looked around once more, taking in the people, the threads of energy running beneath the streets, and the ambient thrum saturating the air.
So that was it. This was a city of those who’d essentially perfected their mastery of mana.
Then…
Could that an there was a way for her to do the sa here?
User Comments
0 comments from readers