Machina Arcanis: Two Worlds Collided-Chapter 248. Return to The Titanesses

248. Return to The Titanesses

The party’s footsteps echoed as they marched against the cobblestone of the bridge, a structure as ancient as time itself. A strange scent of citrus hung in the still air, yet there was no sign of life in their surroundings.

They found themselves at the grand entrance of the castle. A tall tower rose high above, and an ominous dark spire loomed behind it at the mid-section of the inner wall. The metal gate, forged of dull gold and covered in intricate carvings, depicted the gods in all their glory.

“That’s Hypnos!” Cartier blurted with excitement, her stubby finger pointing at one of the sculptures.

The god, possessing light-coloured wings, protruded from his temple. He held an inverted torch; the squaring of his shoulders, the tilt of his head, and the extension of his arms were captured in a majestic, legendary pose. It was a remarkable piece of art etched into the metal.

“The inverted torch, hmm? The ability to extinguish wakefulness and draw people into the endless sea of sleep,” Aurora added, sharing the mythical piece of knowledge with everyone — especially Zetius, who looked the most oblivious.

“Great catch, Scribe Cartier,” Nyrethein praised.

On the other side, Aurora arched a brow at a thin, tall god with long black hair. The massive dark wings on his back, spread as if he were flying high in the sky, were unmistakable. She knew this god well.

“Thanatos…” she echoed.

“Hypnos and Thanatos… Were they related somehow?” Zetius thought aloud, earning a sneer from his arch nemesis.

“Both were twin brothers!” Cartier revealed, pushing up an imaginary pair of glasses with a nerdy finger.

“And most importantly, they were sons of Nyx,” Nyrethein interjected.

“That’s why you sculpted them into your castle’s gate. It’s only fitting,” Triss added with her hands clasped.

“You carved it?” Zetius eyed the Grand Master, incredulous.

Nyrethein glared back. “Who else would it be then, Zetius? You?”

Nyrethein waved him off. She spun to the gate, and with a flick of her hand, the doors gave way. Vibrant flora and ancient trees greeted them in the courtyard, where butterflies fluttered their wings in harmony.

“It seems you’ve been busy,” Aurora commented, sweeping her gaze over the garden. “This castle in the Dreamless Realm… an amazing work of Renaissance architecture. Even greater than some Lunarius in the earthly realm.”

“Your words are too kind, Empress.” Nyrethein curtsied subtly.

“Let’s head inside, everyone. Enough dawdling,” Nyrethein commanded, leading them past artefacts and ornamental stones of no discernible origin.

Cartier’s ears twitched with enthusiasm; Triss practically had to reel her back onto the path.

After a couple of hundred strides, they arrived at the main keep, a massive rectangular building with a high tower integrated into one of its corners. Unnaturally, the high-pitched sound rang with their footsteps. They entered through another set of doors before meeting a red carpet bathed in the light of an amber chandelier.

At the end of the path, where the wide stairs curved away, a grand piece of sculpture greeted them.

The Goddess of the Evernight, Nyx, was clad in full ornate clothes and armour, standing three metres tall. A hood with a crescent shape on the forehead framed her serene expression in all its glory. Her eyes were perpetually half-closed, glaring down at the visitors. One hand caressed the very orb of Nyxphaos, and the other held a war scythe at the ready.

She was utterly dark and beautiful, invoking the very same primal feeling mortals felt when staring into a starless night.

“Legends say that without her, we wouldn’t exist. Without darkness, light would not be defined. Without night, the universe burns with constant light…” Aurora cited, her voice calm.

“Woah! That’s so awesome!” Cubie propped her arm over Zetius’s shoulder.

“Wait… Goddess Nyx was born from Chaos…” Cartier cupped her chin, her eyes darting about. “Is the Chaos the very same Chaos that represented the Dreamless Realm?”

“The Primordial God Chaos?” Triss gasped.

“Yes! Maybe the Primordial God was something more of a concept… rather than a personification like other deities we know,” Cartier rationalised.

Aurora hummed while squeezing her eyes shut. “That’s the very reason why we see her association, her divinity ingrained so palpably in this realm… This could be her birthplace, after all.”

Zetius and Cubie listened and nodded along with anticipation, though they had nothing to offer to the theological debate.

“Ahahaha!” Nyrethein let out a boisterous laugh. “Who knows, right? But I like where you’re getting at. You’ve got potential. Would you like to be my scribe, Kitten?” She beamed widely.

“No…” Cartier shook her head, drawing her lips into a thin line as she hid behind the Empress.

“Please do not take my ward away from me,” Aurora uttered.

“Ahaha! I only jested… Up this way.” Nyrethein motioned for them to follow through the stairway on the right.

They passed through a long hallway lined with rows of doors until she stopped at a specific chamber.

“We’re here.” Nyrethein pushed the doors open, and blue light seeped out of the gap. Thick, mysterious arcane energy filled the air, almost suffocating in its density.

At the centre of the cavernous chamber lay the Anchor Stone, the most sophisticated artefact within the Dreamless Realm. Three slab-like pillars floated in the air, vibrating with a glowing azure blue over a runic circle on the floor.

“For the first time in a long time, I don’t quite understand the arcane behind it,” Aurora admitted with an admiring spark in her eyes.

“Stand there, both of you!” Nyrethein ordered Zetius and Cubie.

Reluctantly, they both stepped into the circle. The stone crackled with energy in response. Slivers of light scanned them up and down, accompanied by robotic, rhythmic chimes.

With fluid and elegant motion, Nyrethein began to weave her black arcane. Black mists twirled and coiled around her fluttering arms, and her hair danced beautifully in the stillness as though the air were rippling water.

“O’ Anchor Stone, please enlighten us to the path of the very thread of Fates,” she incited, her voice echoing in the chamber.

Zetius’s heart thumped uncontrollably. He gulped and took Cubie’s wrist. They exchanged a resolute nod, steadying their hands.

“Whatever happens, I’m here,” Zetius said firmly.

“Grant us passage to the Moirai!” Nyrethein commanded, her hand fully extended skyward.

The black mist crashed into the three pillars, joining them into one massive slab until the very air vibrated erratically. Howling wind flew upward, fluttering Zetius's hair and Cubie’s flowery dress.

“Eek!” She yelped, pulling down her skirt.

The space cracked. A red rectangular light gradually formed until it resembled a massive door. The void filled with dark light and sparkling mist, shimmering like a crimson nebula.

Zetius was speechless. It was the most mesmerising portal he had ever seen.

Soon, the rustling wind and his fluttering hair ceased as the portal stabilised. The Empress approached with cautious steps, sniffing the air.

“This scent… Titanesses. There’s no mistaking it.”

“Of course, the Moirai are awaiting us. After you, Zetius,” Nyrethein urged with a satisfied grin.

Just like the first time he set foot into this Chamber of Fates, the drifting stars and universe seemed to look up to him. With the nebulae and galaxies beneath his feet, he almost felt like he was back in space, collecting debris. Yet, that life seemed more surreal than the wonder in this chamber.

It was funny how his perspective had shifted so much.

“There!” Zetius pointed at the massive holo-threads of Fate and the ancient platform in the distance.

The others were too distracted, their eyes brimming with awe. The sparkling stars reflected in their gazes.

“What in the world?!” Cartier bounced on her feet, feeling the invisible forces preventing her from falling into the cloud of the universe.

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An enigmatic melody of Hellenic, an ancient language, reverberated softly in the background, accompanied by the majestic sound of an entire orchestra, rich with polyphony and sustained tones.

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard such a song,” Aurora said. Even this place earned appreciation from her.

“I didn’t notice that the last time.” Zetius stared across the vast space. A large organ shimmering in gold sat at the far edge of the platform — the source of the ethereal music.

Once they reached the edge, the first three-metre figure flew down from above and touched down gently, weightless like a feather.

“Essenceborns… you have arrived with Clothia’s fragments,” Atropaia reverberated. Her voice echoed inside their heads.

“Sisters of The Past, Atropaia!” Cartier bowed, and the rest followed.

Another four-handed Titaness appeared beside them. “It’s a relief to glance upon you again, Champion of Gaia.” She intently nodded at him.

“We’re in agreement, Sister Lacheryn,” Atropaia said.

“Whoa—Another Titaness!” Cartier gasped, unable to contain the excitement in her eyes.

The overwhelming feeling rushed through her like the first time she met the Titaness Clothia. Their tall and striking features reminded her of how small and insignificant mortal lives were when compared to their eternal grace.

The Titanesses stood side-by-side, Atropaia with her perpetual half-closed gaze, and Lacheryn with her spinning set of hands.

“Rise, mortals.”

“Moirai, I am Aurora Vere Borealis,” the Empress said, stepping forth and lifting her chin high. “The Empress of the Osten Empire.”

“The divinity knows of your eminence, Ventiff’s Slayer…” Atropaia nodded, her spiked crown wobbling slightly.

“Yet, I almost couldn’t sense you, Essenceborn…” Lacheryn boomed, clasping her hands. “You have lost the amethyst flame of Thanatos, or perhaps… hidden it.”

Her surreal expression was unreadable.

“That’s partly the reason why we sought you out…” Aurora grimaced.

Atropaia swept her gaze and met with Celestius Nyrethein. “Such a capable master of Chaos your entourage is,” she praised.

Nyrethein bowed at the waist, her motion exaggerated.

“Of course, we are more than pleased to aid you in the quest of life… We are against our tyrant, and always will be.” Atropaia turned to her sister and exchanged a solemn nod. There was a lingering sadness behind her emerald eyes.

“Mighty Moirai, I’ve clashed blades with an entity which claimed she was the goddess Gaia. I hoped to consult you, and perhaps we could learn more about the sixth apocalypse,” Aurora began, her voice firm.

“Very well. Was it the recent battle just beyond the shoreline of Britainia?” Lacheryn asked, tapping her temple.

“The boiling sea…” Atropaia added.

“Your perception is as sharp as the mightiest steel,” Aurora urged Cartier to come forward.

Cartier glanced at her note, her fingers trembling slightly. “The goddess stood two metres tall. She had striking boopis eyes, pupils so large they almost eclipsed the whites… and wore a golden diadem. Does this provide any insight into her identity, Titaness?”

“Boopis eyes…” Lacheryn closed her eyes, tapping her sharp chin and contemplating deeply.

“There must have been dozens of goddesses with those features, child. The descendants of Hera,” Atropaia grumbled.

“Oh—!” Cartier blurted, pointing at the peacock fan peeking out of Atropaia’s neckline. “Her arcane cast the feathers of a peacock’s tail!”

“Right! I almost forgot about that minor feature,” Aurora smiled like a proud mother, patting Cartier’s hair.

“A peacock tail’s arcane, you said?” Atropaia’s eyes widened slightly, her lips parting before forming into a grin. “So… Hera is still alive after all this time…”

The words plunged the room into a grave-like silence. The shock was palpable on their faces as their minds reeled to find reasons.

“H~how?” Zetius stuttered. “How could Hera pose as a false Gaia? And why? It makes no sense!”

“She was fighting against Cronos, wasn’t she?” Triss interjected.

“Why… Indeed.” A deep crease adorned her otherwise perfect visage. Lacheryn bit her lip. “We do not know the complex mind of the goddess—”

“Yet, one might be able to make an educated guess, Sister?” Atropaia challenged.

“Of course…” Lacheryn lifted a finger, the secrets of divinity drifting from her lips. “The goddess Hera had always been jealous of mortals and Gaia’s creation. For so long, that had been tolerated… Not until the Divine Finale brought annihilation to most of the living gods… The mortal ailment that felled the mightiest of immortals… The fall of Zeus.”

“That marked the end of the Age of Mythology. On the other hand, it marked the beginning of mortal prosperity…” Atropaia nodded slowly.

“Such threads of Fate were cruel. When the war wrought prosperity to the mortal races, the gods faded into mythology, legends, and folklore…”

“Those who bore deep-seated jealousy had reasons for it to grow into hatred and a desire for destruction.”

“Even if it means allying with their enemy?” Aurora questioned.

“Even if it means she had to ally with the mad tyrant. Their goals simply aligned. The unmaking of mortals. Only then can there be the beginning of a new dawn,” Atropaia concluded.

“We haven’t done anything wrong… We didn’t ask to be created.” Triss fell to her knees, her hands clasping into a prayer, yet the quivering in her heart told the story of her faltering faith.

Cartier gently patted her shoulder, providing what little comfort she could.

“It is merely our speculation,” Atropaia reminded them.

“Hera succeeded in corrupting the Celestius of War; her illusion worked perfectly,” Zetius muttered, his knuckles white, a fire burning within. “Has Ignius been misled this whole time? Or there’s something more…” His thought poured out.

“I banished her with Empyrion… Yet, I’m certain that won’t be the end of it,” Aurora admitted, closing her eyes.

“Your interpretation is precise,” Atropaia said firmly. “We can still feel her presence deep within other realms… far away, yes, but alive.”

“Had you severed her with Thanatos’s gift, that would be a different story. But such Fates are always written not by our own accord,” Lacheryn admitted, her eyes growing distant, looking toward the celestial body made of infinite holo-threads.

“Hades…” Aurora bit her lip before letting out a heavy sigh.

“There’s no point lingering in a past we couldn’t change, Empress.” Zetius strode ahead, his coat fluttering.

“O’ Mighty Morai, I have a question regarding Cronos’s whereabouts,” Cartier interjected. “Our scholars believe he is imprisoned within the moon. Can you confirm this?”

“Oh… Interesting question,” Atropaia praised. “I am the watcher of the past. The records confirm the gods sealed him inside the core of that celestial body… Close enough for their observant gaze, yet distant enough to spare the earth should he break free. The moon was the perfect prison.”

“So the Light of Punishment shattering the moon wasn’t a coincidence. I knew it!” Cartier bobbed her head triumphantly.

A heavy silence descended upon them as the truth settled in.

Zetius clenched his fists. The truth had been staring him in the face all along. The moment he saw the runic circle atop Germund… that was the beginning of it all.

“The sixth apocalypse, the demonic infestation—how do we stop them?” Zetius took his turn to ask.

“We do not know the full extent of it, however…” Atropaia paused. “One thing we are certain of. You, who no longer possess the Primordial power, will not be able to stop it.”

“Z’smite me…” Zetius winced, his jaw tightening. “I already knew it very well.”

“There is another Champion of Gaia. Nohrell Voss Fenrith,” Lacheryn added sharply. “You must join forces with her.”

A frown spread across their faces like wildfire until Aurora responded, “That’s an impossible feat. We do not know where she is hiding. And even if we did, we do not know if she’ll help us.”

“She’s the enemy of Osten,” Nyrethein added, “Our enemy.”

“There must be other ways, please, O’ Mighty Moirai.” Triss’s plea was a resounding echo.

They looked at her for a long time.

“Essenceborn of Clothia… We can tap into her power into the near future and seek if we could find any resolutions. But…” Atropaia paused, her lips faltering for the first time.

“You must endure the pain from it, and this journey will likely shatter the mind of a mortal,” Lacheryn revealed.

The room grew cold and quiet once more; the air felt suffocating to breathe.

“You, uncultivated humans, are not meant to wield the power of the Titans…” Atropaia’s voice reverberated.

“Terissa, no—” Aurora raised her hand to the side.

But Triss brushed her hands on the Empress’s armour. “Please, Empress… I must do this. It is my destiny.”

“Triss, there must be another way…” Zetius took a step, his deeply creased brows a sign of stark disagreement.

“If there was, they would have told us by now,” Triss said.

“I… I can’t let you…” Zetius squeezed his eyes shut. Their quiet time together in the castle flashed in the back of his mind.

Then he felt the soft brush of her hand on his arm. Zetius’s eyes fluttered open to see a serene expression, a warm smile that said it was going to be okay.

He knew it was a complete lie.

There was an endless void in his heart; it didn’t feel right. He bit his trembling lip. “Let’s just go home, Triss,” he argued, extending his palms.

She shook her head, her veil drifting in the breeze.

“Stop being naive, Zetius!” Nyrethein bellowed. “We must make a hard choice sometimes. This is war on all fronts, and must I remind you that we are losing against the Helltide?”

His foot scraped the floor. He winced at the thought, baring his teeth. He hissed air in exasperation — not at Nyrethein, but at his own incompetence to do anything.

“How could I stay and watch her mind shatter…”

Ten heartbeats stretched into eternity.

“Triss…” Cartier gasped, her eyes blurring with the onset of tears. Her hands clung tightly to the edge of her dress.

With a motherly smile, Triss crouched down and wiped the tears off Cartier’s face.

“Stay strong for me, would you?” Triss said, tilting her head to the side.

“I~I will,” Cartier said, forcing toughness into her voice.

“Triss.” Cubie watched her with glassy eyes and exchanged a gentle hug that lasted only a mere second.

Tsk! Zetius clicked his tongue, forcing his eyes shut.

“I’m useless…”

His desperation weighed him down, crushing him with the pressure of the deep sea.

It was the hardest choice, but Triss took it willingly with a faint smile. Even Nyrethein couldn’t spare a glance at her, keeping quiet in the shadows.

With a tranquil smile, Triss spared a glance at Zetius one last time. “Zetius, don’t be too hard on yourself. I thank you for everything.”

She paused for a long minute, her lips opening and closing until she spoke again. “If… If I don’t make it…”

“You’re kidding me?! You must make it!” Zetius argued, his voice rising.

She smiled.

And Zetius's heart ached terribly. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff and letting a crushing wave collide with him.

“Please tell the others… tell him about Poranthis’s tea…” Triss said with her soft, velvety voice.

Zetius could only sniff, his vision blurred. She was one of the few who understood his pain so thoroughly. The girl who sang the Ionian song — a language foreign to his ears, yet he could feel every emotion she wanted to convey. One of the very few who shed tears for him.

A very dear friend.

“I will tell him. You have my word,” Zetius vowed. Every word was clear and filled with conviction.

Triss joined the two Titanesses with firm strides. Raising her hands above her head, she began a soft epopteia. The essence of Proleptis was now offered to the deities.