Chapter 464 - A Refrain of Broken Chains III

  The party filed into the room beneath the goddesses’ eyes and arranged itself before the throne. Following Arciel’s lead, each member silently took a knee and awaited further instruction. Krail was hesitant—he still didn’t buy into the whole goddess thing, despite having walked straight into Aurora’s domain—but he followed the crowd regardless.

  “Welcome, mortals, and congratutions,” said Aurora. “You have completed my divine trial and earned the right to gaze upon the mirror of memoirs and memories. But so too have you performed another feat worth noting.”

  “You’ve reached the end of your journey,” continued Griselda. Her voice came from the sky itself and filled the room with its booming power. “You’ve completed all your training and truly cemented yourselves as Vel’khan’s strongest fighters. I couldn’t be more proud.”

  Log Entry 930941You have completed the “Guiding Light” quest.

  You have been awarded a divine relic crafted by the Goddess of the Moon.

  The moon’s light grew even brighter. She flooded the audience chamber with her dazzling rays before concentrating the energy into a series of moonbeams. There were six of them in all—seven when Boris parted from his master, returned to his usual form, and scuttled into the empty spot beside her. Settling in front of their intended recipients, the rays began crystallizing a series of items within them.

  Being the smallest of the bunch, Jules’ gift was the first to complete. It took the form of a trio of moonstone rings, each adorned by a gem aligned with one of his coloured magics. Though more compact, the divine craftsmanship required for their forging bolstered their efficacy many times over. They functioned as wands, staves, and power sources in turn, improving everything from his casting speed to his mana consumption to the force that his spells put out.

  Chloe’s gift was next to complete its advent. Strung to a long belt were a series of twenty four intricate knives, the only difference between them the number engraved on their pommel. The magic that radiated from the bdes suggested that there was more to them than just their keen edges, but being more complex than Jules’ rings, Cire found it too difficult to deduce their effects at a gnce.

  The same problem prevented her from evaluating Arciel’s hat. The bck and white garment, modeled precisely after the moon’s, was practically coursing with magic, but that was also why its function was so difficult to decipher, packed to the brim with circuits interwoven. Lana’s moonlight axe was far simpler. Cire could tell that it was able to modute its weight and conduct self-repairs, but her own gift came before she could dig into the stranger part of its circuit.

  At first, it didn’t seem like anything special. It was just a glowing sphere—a literal ball of energy without any particur function—but it worked its way into her runecloak as soon as she touched it. Enhancing every thread, it bolstered and blessed the familiar artifact and crafted it anew.

  Its expanded feature set flowed into her mind as the process completed. Most notable was its ability to provide a detailed breakdown of its status. Simply by querying with her mind, she could see exactly how much protection a given design was capable of providing. It detailed the exact force that was required to tear through its shielding, and even came with a new self-optimization feature that would maximize its defense without affecting its appearance. There were all sorts of different knobs and levers that she could tweak in order to modify the outcome, and there was even a section that suggested simir designs capable of proving more defensive.

  Its range and repertoire had also expanded. No longer was she bound to shapes and materials she knew. She could freely search, browse, and filter the different fibres and metals based on her properties of interest. Its processing and transformation speeds had been enhanced as well, though it still didn’t seem possible to swap around her defenses in a battle as fast-paced as the st.

  The st new feature was a boost to damage reduction. It boosted the value by 75% and quadrupled her effective health. The boon was incredible. It was powerful enough to cssify the item as a divine relic on its own, and to anyone else, it was likely the most prized feature. Cire, however, disabled it right away. It was the type of strength that couldn't be relied upon—growing too accustomed to it would only make her weaker.

  She spent a few minutes testing the cloak’s properties, shifting and warping it before finally looking over at Boris.

  The lizard’s relic took the form of a pillow. It was just rge enough to perfectly fit him when he sprawled out his body. It was incredibly soft—Cire could feel every bit of its heavenly sensation through their mental link—but any comfort derived from its use was but an irrelevant extra. In reality, the relic was his sheath, the protector of his sharpened bde. So long as any Boris made use of the empyrean cushion, every instance would be empowered.

  Last in line was the elf. Cire had expected Krail to receive a repcement for his weapon, but Griselda had gifted him an outfit instead. Made of a rubbery material, it appeared as if it was meant to stretch over his body and cover everything up to the bridge of his nose. Its colour was mostly a deep bck, but there were rge grey patches along the sides that further padded out his defenses and a series of brilliant white lines that ran up along its length.

  The magic woven into it was so complex that even Allegra was staring, her eyes swimming as she tried to work out its function.

  “What does it do?” asked Cire.

  “Almost too many things to list,” said the elf. “It reduces damage, amplifies my magic, speeds up my chants, and prevents me from being silenced, just to name a few things. I don’t think I’ve seen a piece of equipment with this many features in all my years.”

  “It’s one of my best pieces yet,” said the moon. “The skeleton is woven of moonstone and the circuits are so small that they may as well be invisible. It might not be up to Vel or Dorr’s standard, but I’m proud to call it a true divine relic.”

  Krail frowned. “I am grateful for the gift, truly so, but I do wonder a bit about the naming. How, exactly, is it supposed to be a relic if you just made it? And to be honest, I’m not really sure why it’s being designated as divine.”

  “Oh, for the love of the gods! Elves!” Arciel pressed a hand against her face and sighed.

  “I understand I’m being a bit brazen, and perhaps even rude, but that isn’t the intention. It’s just, this isn’t the first time I’ve spoken to a giant rock ciming to be a god, and by definition, a relic is something that’s old.”

  “A relic, perhaps, but the term divine relic refers precisely to an instrument of the gods bestowed upon mortal hands. Its age is irrelevant as butter to a butterfly,” said the squid.

  “To accept that definition, I would first have to accept that gods are real.”

  “You’re looking at two of them,” said Chloe.

  “Supposedly, yes, but the woman Cire slew earlier was also supposedly a goddess, and the results speak for themselves.”

  “I do believe you heard the notice provided by the system,” said Arciel.

  “And I was questioning it back then as much as I’m questioning it now. It just makes no sense.” He turned his gaze on Aurora and Griselda. “I mean, sure, they seem pretty strong, but I don’t really see how that makes them gods. Goddesses. Whatever.”

  “It effectively boils down to the system’s recognition,” said Aurora. “We are divine because we have been determined by the system to transcend it.”

  “I mean, sure, but that doesn’t mean anything. The system thinks I’m an archmage, but the reality of the situation is that I barely know anything about magic. I mean, sure, I can throw it around, but there are children out there with a better understanding of the technicalities.” He stroked his chin for a second before continuing. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but it’s not like you’re omnipotent. I just don’t see what makes you gods.”

  “Omnipotence is no part of our godhood,” said Aurora. “We are gods because we hold absolute authority over specific concepts and earn greater power from the faith our believers pce in us.”

  “Practically speaking, that’s hardly any different from a king,” said Krail. “A king has absolute authority over his nation, and becomes more powerful when the people of the nation believe that he is willing and able to work to their benefit. A god would have to be something that goes beyond authority and is capable of seeing everything, everywhere, all at once. I would be more inclined to believe you if you cimed that the system was a god.”

  Aurora pondered for a moment. “If the system is a god, then what of its creators? What of those who repce its parts and overhaul its features when needed?”

  Krail frowned. His mouth twitched a few times as he tried to work out an answer.

  “You do not have to give your answer immediately. Continue to ponder on it. We can speak again once you have your thoughts together.”

  Though reluctant, the elf nodded and backed down, leaving the hall in a moment of awkward silence.

  “May we request further guidance, Goddess?” Allegra asked the question after a brief dey, her eyes on the sky above. “We wish to pave the road to victory.”

  Griselda moved the gaping hole in her body into a momentary smile. Either that, or it was a trick of the light.

  “I’ve already given you all of the guidance I can, my beloved child. Any further than this, and I’d be guiding you through this war and encroaching on Vel’s domain.”

  “I suspected as much,” said Arciel. “It is of no matter. We shall endeavour to do what we can.”

  “I know you will,” said Griselda.

  “And perhaps my reward will aid in your attempts,” said Aurora. Stepping down from the throne, she snapped her fingers and dragged the party’s members with her through the halls. In an instant, they were taken to the chamber that hosted the mirror.

  As with the throne room, its roof was repced for Griselda’s convenience, but everything was exactly as it was when Cire first entered. The bathwater was gone, and the circur reflector had taken its position once more. Mist poured from within it, flooding the room and hiding the sky, but Griselda’s beams shone through the curtain regardless.

  Aurora stepped up to the centerpiece and briefly scanned the crowd before beginning to speak.

  “The reward for completing my trial is a look into the divine mirror. Through it, you may see any scene from the past from whatever perspective you wish. It is a vessel for doing away with your regrets, for beholding once more that which you have lost to time. You may look upon a childhood memory through the eyes of a parent. You may witness from an omniscient perspective the scene of your ultimate failure. You may relive your greatest victory and stand once more at the height of your glory. The choice is in your hands.”

  “I have a question,” said Arciel. “Must we be relevant to our scenes of choice?”

  The goddess smiled. “No. You may pick any scene, even one written into the analysis of history hundreds of thousands of years prior to your birth.”

  Allegra's eyes shifted to Cire. Suspicious. Knowing. Certain. Her eyes begged for confirmation, but Cire gave her none.

  “That being the case, I wish to see my aunt's fall from Priscil's perspective,” said Arciel.

  “Very well.”

  Aurora beckoned the squid over before flooding the room with mist and obscuring everyone's vision. It sted for a few minutes, but faded again as Arciel stepped away from the mirror. She tapped her chin with her fan as she did, her lips twisted into a frown as she took a knee once more.

  “Thank you, Goddess.” She spoke quietly, tiredly. “You have provided me with much to consider.”

  “You are welcome.” Aurora paused to look at the remaining party members. “Has anyone else made up their minds?”

  “Yeah,” said Jules. “Show me the arson that burned down Vel’orrun’s orphanage.”

  “And the perspective?”

  “Can I start with my own and shift around as we go?”

  “The omniscient perspective would best suit your needs.”

  “Works for me.”

  The cm hobbled his way up to the mirror while mist flooded the surroundings again. A little curious and already bored out of her mind, Cire filled her eyes and ears with divinity, but her hearing was incapable of capturing the scene that the mirror projected into the cm’s head, and she struggled to see through the fog even with the added enhancements.

  Cire paused for a moment to think before she started to fiddle. First things first, she confirmed that further concentrating her divinity didn’t bring the goalpost any closer on its own. Sure, it made her eyes better—everything was sharper, she could zoom in much further, and she was pretty sure their magic was more destructive—but they didn’t gain any additional properties.

  Having half expected the result, she moved on to reshaping her divinity, forging it into a series of fresh circuits, new pathways through her flesh. It was more difficult than she thought. She couldn’t simply move a mass of energy through her eyes because her body recognized the new pathways as wounds. They closed almost as quickly as she opened them, lest she kept them filled whilst continuing to encode the new function. Maintaining the trail was more difficult than she had first suspected. The divinity she left in her flesh was eager to move and disperse. She had to actively pay attention to keeping it in pce whilst simultaneously moving it around in order to complete her cast. It almost felt like trying to draw a circle with one hand and a square with the other.

  The particur circuit she chose was centered around a pair of symbols. The first was one of the few runes she knew—a pair of parallel, diagonal lines that indicated negation, while the second was supplied by the spirit on her colr. It resembled a more jagged version of a natural sign on a musical staff with its vertical lines crossed and its body rotated ninety degrees. It was a symbol of inscrutability, used to describe blindness and obfuscation.

  Colrsaur wasn’t too certain how the effects would combine—she had never bothered to investigate the runic subsystem in detail—but Cire was confident that putting them together would invoke the effect she desired. Though composition was full of pitfalls and required the masterful application of runic grammar, she recalled that negation was as easy as ying the rune for negation atop whatever it was meant to counteract.

  She ran her magic through the fresh circuit as soon as it was complete and engaged the spell, but her vision remained unchanged. The only thing that happened was everyone turning their eyes upon her. Krail blinked a few times before turning away while Allegra stamped her feet and pressed her face into her hands. Sylvia’s reaction was simirly flustered. She started stammering and wildly filing her paws whilst trying to decide if she wanted to look. The other three were acting more or less normal, though Lana seemed a little confused.

  “I presume that your current state is not quite as you had intended.”

  It wasn’t until Cire caught her reflection in Arciel’s curious gaze that she realised the spell’s effects. Her body was completely unobscured. Her clothes were still present. She was clearly wearing a dress cut perfectly to fit her form. But her bare flesh was clearly visible beneath it.

  “Not exactly.” Cire cancelled the magic as quickly as she could and looked down to confirm that her outfit was doing its job. She was embarrassed enough to bury her face in her hands and scream, but she fought back the urge and maintained her usual demeanour.

  Jules seemed to sense that the mood was a bit awkward when he returned from the mirror, but he didn’t say much and simply wandered back to his spot with a chuckle.

  “Have you found your arsonist?” asked Arciel.

  “Turns out it was an accident,” he said, with another ugh. “I’ve held that grudge for twenty goddamn years, and it was a fucking accident.” He threw his head back and pressed a hand to his temple. “I almost don’t want to believe it.”

  “Perhaps it is for the best that there are none who must atone,” said the queen, quietly.

  “Y’know what? Maybe it is.” He smirked again and shook his head, his grin growing even wider.

  “Has anyone else arrived at a decision?” asked Aurora.

  “Me,” said Lana. She rose to her feet and took a breath. “I want to see how we were abandoned. My own perspective is fine, if it’s clear.”

  “It will be,” said the goddess, as she gestured for the wolf to approach.

  Waiting for the mist to swirl again, Cire returned her focus to her eyes and brought her next idea to trial.