Beholder Marionette.
The Living Loom. The Beholder of Act X. The Ard Nilhinid. Nil Touched. The Chosen Kin. One Pupa.
Titles were what jewels to a crown were to beings of long lifespans. They represented the wealth of the wearer, be it literally, their or accolades. The greater the title, the shinier the stone.
However, Beholder Marionette was not old by Elysia's standards.
She was only Forty-five years old. Act X was also founded in 325 PA, aning this year had marked its twenty sixth year of operation. To put her age into perspective, she was barely two years older than the triplets who were forty-three and would have manifested as a Beholder at nineteen.
It was rare for one to ammas many titles in such a short amount of ti. The exceptions were Colors and the Beholders. But even these beings did not receive an accolade imdiately. It required decades of dedication to art, form or role before one received such a title, let alone the title of a Color or Beholder.
If they managed to receive one before this, then either they were geniuses like the mage Thelma, or they were not for venerable reasons.
Beholder Marionette's titles ca from sothing worse.
A prophetic nasake. A title that was granted before one knew what they were, or what it ant. The type of label that Frost had co to despise.
In other words, a prewritten persona in other words.
Few knew Beholder Marionette before she beca a Beholder. Not even the one hundred Bookkeepers of the Eternal Library could find a page referencing Beholder Marionette. The titles she possessed – which were used as keywords much like how one would use them to find journal articles – revealed nothing of interest.
It was as though there was no Beholder Marionette before she took on the mantle of a Beholder.
* * *
Hallways enveloped in a layer of cracked ice unfolded before Frost. She glided across the ground, appearing to float. Explosions from [Thermal Propagation] propelled her forward. She occasionally touched the floor to further propel her forward, since she could not permanently stay afloat.
She had not co across a single soul along this level. She presud she was on the highest floor. A single glance through the web-stained windows, which lined along the hallways, revealed the body of a floating fortress.
There was nothing above except for the blue mist and its light above. Stationed between the windows were the preserved carapace of a Herald. Their heads lowered imperceptibly as she moved past, as though they served Act X even in death.
I wouldn't be surprised if Act X used corpses to do their bidding. I'm honestly curious why they don't just use Golems, or puppets made from Qoph. These statues don't have a soul. I haven't seen any Light at all yet either. Aside from the one I'm following.
The one source of Light she saw was – without a doubt – Beholder Marionette's. It was a radiant light that only Frost could perceive. Beholders, by their nature, carried significantly more Light, hence their Levels. Yet she could not help but sense that Marionette's Light was duller than the others.
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Within that well of light was also a tinge of blue.
The hallways were a labyrinth, with doors that led either to dead ends or pitfalls. There was not a single room that was used for anities. The entirety of the highest level of Act X's territory was as much of a maze as their Outskirts. It was designed with the Commandnts of the Script in mind and served as a defensive asure should they be invaded.
Unfortunately for them, their walls were not unbreakable.
Walls crumbled before Frost's might as she threw herself forward. They were constructed using Caldera Industries' Construction Blend, which made them highly resistant, even to Colors and low-level Eternal Night Corrupted. Between each hallway was a chasm that led straight through the lower levels of Act X's Nest.
She was outside for only a mont. An eight kiloter drop separated her from the heights of Act X and the barren purgatory that stretched across Act X's inner Sectors. Yet when she looked down, she could not see the bottom. This was not because of the fog.
A network of thousands of branching hallways made up Act X's Headquarters. They shimred like the strings of a web. They did not appear blue up close despite resembling a castle made of frozen webs from afar.
I thought it was made from string. How large is this place exactly?
Nav
< Anywhere between ten to fifty kiloters. The fog and its ability to recognifure itself masks its true scale >
So many wasted corridors...
Nav
< Is it a waste when a Reality Manipulator can provide infinite materials? >
It cos at the cost of Nex. These are probably part of the Fate chanism's orders. Such a waste.
The enormity caused her stomach to churn. Nex, in its current form, ca primarily from suffering. The contentnt of Act X and their misguided purpose caused a fireball in her hand. She dragged it across the walls of the next hallway and left a scorched trail behind.
Her eyes flickered. She suppressed her wrath in ti before she could cause further damage. If Act X were not so pivotal, then she wouldn't have any qualms in burning everything they built to the ground.
It was a dangerous thought, and she didn't dare count the number of lives that would be lost.
Nav. How much of it do you think it's true?
"About what?"
That I'm unaccounted for. I rember the Patron of the Highways. Her Script led her to , the Amalgam. In her words she said: 'the Script told to bring the black-feathered Amalgam to Divas Pass.' Then again, that was from the Director.
Frost wondered if she was accounted for in so way. The loss of Act X also ant that there wouldn't be anyone to defend the citizens of the City of Strings from the First and Second Nights.
Realistically, if soone with power over the Scripts knew about her, then they could include her in the Scripts. After all, they were Commandnts to the Actors before they were instructions of the Fate chanism.
The Director
< It is as you say. It is easy to forge a Script. But to change an existing Script is… >
"Spit it out!" Frost roared as she burst through a set of grand double doors.
They were ten ters tall. The hinges alone spanned an entire two ters and were bolted deep into the stone with human-sized rivets. Despite this, it was launched into the heart of the ballroom it was guarding.
The change of scenery was a sign that she was close now.
The doors continued their trajectory, eventually smashing through the walls. Blue light flooded into the room, and she chased it with a leap that collapsed a quarter of the ballroom.
The Director
< I am unsure if it is possible. My good Amalgam friend. Instinct is the cruelest form of Purpose. That is then followed by nature. Both are interchangeable. A half-full half-empty ordeal… Ahem. What I an to say is that this is the extent of what I know from interpreting the Commandnts before they are sent out >
"aning it can be done. It'll be a matter of getting through to Marionette."
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