“We made too many false assumptions.”
An ethereal fountain pen levitated in the air as it glided across the ruined parchnt paper. It wrote swiftly without a change in pace, like a machine with a given task:
“These failures are a result of our own hubris.”
Sitting across from the magical page was a child no older than seven or eight years old. His long, chestnut-colored hair cascaded past his shoulders, layered neatly above his gentlemanly clothes. There was a hint of isolation in his amber eyes—as if he were simply a reader witnessing the creation of a new script.
“Our first false assumption ca the mont we arrived in this world. We fully expected it to be a second chance—an opportunity for us to reconnect with a new realm. One that had no prodigious expectations or desires of exploitation. A world that us—Soren Andersen—could fully live and experience on our own terms.
“This was indubitably proven to be nothing more than a delusion. And it seems, those around us were already aware of such truths. Even if they were not inford on Yarian’s true connection to Earth, they were still able to understand Soren’s desires could never truly be fulfilled.
“Indeed, we should have expected this outco after the Mirror Ga’s conclusion. The false reality that the Blossom Sword Flower had sent each of us into revealed our futures exactly. Cassia was bound to her ancestral duty—the revival of the Serpent of Untruths. Myrin wanted to be accepted by the fates he wasn’t granted, despite the risks they posed. As for Soren, he simply wanted to be free from the invisible chains that shackled him, even if it ant replacing those chains with physical ones.
“Indeed, just like Astrea, Soren was also a lamb desired by others. Perhaps it was through this that our defiance of fate inevitably brought both ruin and prosperity.”
Watching the fountain pen docunt everything, Biblion shifted his attention to a different docunt. This one was chronicling information that was once forgotten due to the Naless Mist—sothing that was likely undone by Guntharion.
The vibrant pillar of light at the center of the round table illuminated the words for him to read:
Status
Na: rlin
Race: Human
Age: 100,000
Vocation: Sleepless Guide
Magi Rank: Archon (8th Circle - Restricted to 6th Circle)
Magi Affinities: Pathkeeper, Mimicry, ( 9999 Unknowns)
Soul Realm: Somnial Court (Unique) (Dominion Stage) (Restricted)
Soul Weapon: Dreamspawn (Unique) (Tier 6) (Shattered)
Class Type: Elental
Skills:
[Dream Seed] - May their dreams blossom beautifully.
[Dream Hop] - Enter the gardens you’ve cultivated.
[Dream Virus] - Forsaken gardens beco malignant.
[Dream Inheritance] - Reap the fruits of your cultivation.
[Lucidity Loop] - Let their dreams be as long as they desire.
[Lucidity Warp] - Let their dreams be as strange as you desire.
[False Dawn] - Awakening from a dream becos its own dream.
[Nightmare Engine] - Their fears beco your fuel.
[Last Whisper] - Your voice lingers in their sleep.
[Ambition Ignition] - Let their limitations waver in the presence of success.
[Desire Vector] - The road to one’s ambitions becos clear.
[The Chosen One] - None but I can achieve it, fate be damned.
[rciful End] - Existence without a dream is not existence at all.
[Blurred Na] - Your identity becos shrouded like a forgotten dream.
[Legacy Mist] - The mories of others enshrine your existence.
[Witness Mark] - Inscribe your existence within the minds of others.
[mory Shard] - Fragnt your true existence.
[Inner Accord] - Restrict yourself for sothing in exchange.
[Truth Devotion] - Your truth may not be believed.
[Necessary Choice] - Let nothing stand before your decisions.
Blessings: [Ending Maker] (???)
Rune Collection:
[Somnium] (2 Cores, 2 Expression, 3 Insight)
[False Awakening] (2 Expression, 2 Insight)
[Forgotten Fear] (3 Insight)
[Motion of Hearts] (1 Core, 4 Expression, 1 Insight)
[Dream Vestige] (2 Cores, 4 Expression, 2 Insight)
[Inner Agreent] (1 Expression, 4 Insight)
Reading the status page, Biblion shifted his attention toward the notes section underneath. The fountain pen continued [Record]ing everything they had witnessed:
“Just as we had assud, the Sleepless Guide was not one to be trifled with. Through his conversations with Guntharion, we were able to uncover his true status. He was once a Sovereign. Perhaps, He might have even beco an Empyrean, if not for the restrictions placed on Him.
“These restrictions are likely a result of [Inner Accord]. Although this ability seems inconsequential at first, the wording of its description obtained from the Beyond clearly indicates that power is seen as nothing more than a commodity that can be traded. Although, it still does not detail what exactly rlin desired that made Him so willing to pay such a heavy price. He had for whatever reason, consented to HIs own demotion—becoming a Mystic Grade Phantasm once again.
“Clearly, His goal of accelerating Yarian’s end likely held a connection to this sacrifice. Since there was no way of fully believing His words, one can only speculate as to the true reason. Perhaps He really did believe it to be the only solution. However, choosing to destroy Yarian instead of Earth confuses us greatly. If the Convergence Principle equally resets this world and its other half, then why not choose to destroy Earth? That way, Yarian could survive the coming ruination.
“Did He perhaps still long to return there, soday? As a transmigrator, He could have valued His original ho over the one He and the Twelve Knights had falsely cultivated. Avalon was nothing more than a lie, after all.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringent.
“But everything seed to point toward a much more sinister sche. rlin the Magician was not one to sway this drastically due to emotions—He was usually the one swaying others instead.
“Interestingly, rlin also seed to act as if HeHimself never really had any goals. As if every action He takes is one that is desired by soone else. If we were to take His words at face value, this might imply that an outside force compelled Him into choosing Yarian’s destruction of Earth’s. One might speculate that His mysterious blessing, [Ending Maker], might also be responsible.”
As it finished finalizing the last remaining notes on rlin, Biblion sighed as he leaned back against the mottled, high-back chair. Soon, a cup of hot chocolate manifested itself on the round table through [Fictionalization], its scent passing through the air.
Biblion picked up the cup and took a sip. In the distance, he watched a holographic panel displaying what should have been images of both Yarian and Earth. The gateways linked to each world’s Anchors seed to flash montarily before returning back to their normal glassy surfaces.
“Another failure. . .” He whispered quietly to himself. Indeed, this was another developnt they needed to care for. No matter how many tis Biblion tried, activating the gateways that led back to Earth or Yarian had now beco impossible. Although the [Worldsong Murmur] they left behind still holds a deep connection to that world, there was no way for them to even transfer their consciousness into it—as if it were being blocked by soone or sothing.
They could no longer return to either world. . . Nor could they spectate what was occurring there through their connection to the Anchors. Yeongwon on the other hand still seed reachable through the Murmur.
To the side of the holographic window, appeared another. This one displayed the visage of a dilapidated Soren, clinging to the ground—neither conscious nor unconscious. He was simply too full of rage and anguish to move. Although his location couldn’t be mapped to any exact gateway in the Fairy Court, Biblion was certain that Gunther had sent him to an entirely new world unlike anything they had seen before.
The madman called it Carcosa.
Fignt glanced toward a different scroll spread over the round table—this one was docunting information regarding Gunther’s decision:
“Guntharion and His daughter. . . This was our second biggest false assumption. From the very start, Gunther was never even involved in the creation of the Arthurian legends or the Twelve Knights of the Round Table. As rlin had stated, the Age of Mythologies that predated the First Age possessed many transmigrators who all competed for Yarian’s rulership. Guntharion and His daughter, Aelyne, likely arrived similarly. And it seems that the introduction of the Naless Mist originated from Them.
“Although They might have eventually joined the Avalon Empire, it is more likely that King Arthur had forced their submission, just as He did with every other mythological person from that era.”
The fountain pen flew swiftly across the page, jotting down everything they had observed from Guntharion’s personality to even more obscure things like His magecraft store being nad ‘The Last Wager.’ His excessive drinking habits that Cassia tried to fix had always been due to His daughter’s sickness. It had also likely been due to His growing inner conflict over using Cassia’s life to save Her.
Regardless, the notes continued to grow as Biblion read over them slowly:
“rlin’s [Dream Virus] is truly a horrendous ability to go up against. It seems that the amount of ntal damage it creates is proportional to the victim’s level of power. Since the Shepherd of the Naless Fold is around Tier 7 or 8, the spreading of the virus was not sothing even an Empyrean like Gunther could fully erase without exerting most of His power. This left Him unable to chase after rlin fully.
“However, it seems that from the very beginning, Guntharion had been expecting a similar outco. The colossal fog of darkness that Soren had entered was likely a deterrent that prevented Aelyne’s virus from escaping. However, it was also ant to act as a protective shell against outside interference from the Flower Maiden, the Greenfather, the Gold-Giver, the Dreamfire Lord, or even rlin Himself. As the Sleepless Guide had stated, the Gods were never fully on the sa side. Their circumstances forced them into working with each other, but that did not an They wouldn’t sche behind each other’s backs anyway.
“At least, that is what Guntharion wanted rlin to believe. From the very start, He was simply hoping for the Sleepless Guide to return. His cooperation with Soren in freeing Cassia from the Serpent of Untruth’s control was simply a ruse.
“Gunther knew there wasn’t truly a way of ensuring Cassia’s survival, because the Whispering Dream was always going to be against it. After all, her dream was close to blossoming which gave Him another reason to use [Dream Inheritance]. Not to ntion the Serpent of Untruths owing Him a favor. . .
“Therefore, Guntharion logically decided to use Cassia as bait. If He pretended to change His mind and wished for her survival just like Soren had convinced Him to, then rlin would be forced to intervene through [Legacy Mist] and [mory Shard], sending Himself right into the trap Gunther had set up.
“Although our understanding is still minimal, it seems that the Second Scroll which was given to Sienna was also used for this exact sa reason. Gunther had known all along that Sienna would be taken away by the Sleepless Guide. With the scroll in her possession, rlin would naturally take it for Himself as well. That was why they were able to witness the scenes depicted inside it together with Him. Whatever it did to rlin, was clearly enough to make Him panic.
“No, it seems we might already know what it did to Him.”
Taking another sip from his drink, Biblion’s gaze shifted toward the flickering fla pillar. Inside it, a strange change had occurred that could only be described as. . . corruption. Strange colors had manifested within the eternal light—all of them moving in and out of visible reality.
If one were to use [Eyes of the Fairy], they would likely see that the Soul Chain which had been stable just monts ago was now once again quivering. Inside it, two nodes were filled with both Fairy Witness and Cantor’s Crown respectively. But there was another rune present there that Biblion had never expected to see. . .
A colorful orb whose existence seed to appear and disappear repeatedly. The manifestation of a rune fragnt that they had yet to rge with.
“Somnium,” the ever-growing book entry wrote, “an Abstract Rune that should belong to rlin. A single insight fragnt of this rune had sohow appeared within our Runic Existence. This is what the Second Scroll had likely stolen from the Sleepless Guide.”
Biblion glanced at the holographic window showcasing Soren’s current location. He was still sitting on the floor, hugging his legs like a cornered animal. Unaware of the changes that had occurred within his soul. . .
The fountain pen continued to write. “This was likely Guntharion’s way of repaying for His own actions. And also a thod in which He could pass on His enmity. With both of them now possessing the sa rune, avoiding each other will no longer be possible. A new confrontation between Soren the Traveler and rlin the Magician has already been scheduled.”
Peering into the holographic panel, Biblion suddenly noticed a change. The storm of emotions that had once churned within Soren seed to quell, as though so unseen decision had finally settled upon him.
He rose at last and began to walk. Each step pressed into Carcosa’s dark soil, leaving behind heavy, lingering imprints of his presence as he headed toward the black coffin the madman had left behind.
There was no longer any hesitation in his eyes. Only cold indifference. With a solitary push, the lid—thick in shadows—slid aside in absolute silence. The Traveler’s expression remained steady as he peered inside.
Within lay a small figure, resting upon a bed of pallid white flowers. A child, no more than ten years of age. Her hands were folded over her chest, her breathing imperceptible, her face untouched by worry.
She did not look dead, but not entirely alive either. Her skin was paler than snow, and long strands of silver-white hair draped neatly over her right eye. A crown of small white flowers rested upon her head, complenting the ornate, dark gothic dress she wore. Whoever she was, an air of deathly silence lingered around her—completely at odds with her noble appearance.
Soren quietly stood there amidst the darkness, brewing with more thoughts than he could count. The millions of eyes watching from the shadowed skies all shifted at once, peering in his direction.
Watching this display, Biblion drew his gaze back to the fountain pen. The book entry which includes all the relevant information he previously reviewed had finally been compiled.
Only one final section remained at the end:
“We must therefore ask ourselves this question. If one’s worth is determined by their rise from sudden failure, then shouldn’t the chronicles of mankind revere collapse as the forge of triumph?
“And yet, we shove it aside over and over again, fated to be forgotten as it clings to the light of rembrance.”
New Entry Recorded: [Chronicles of Failure] (Author: Biblion)
[End of Volu 3: Whispers of History]
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