The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 973: Nature of the Prism

"I don’t. There were so many visions rushing through my mind, I couldn’t focus on any individual one." I shook my head, biting my lip. "But it wasn’t just Aerion. My aura was drawn to a number of souls, giving them all glimpses of fate. Even Sari...she saw my past with the circle, and, well, she didn’t admit it, I think she saw even more than that. The way she talked to me, when I was scared, it was as if she truly knew me. She sounded older, wiser. More mature. And she said exactly what I needed to hear, in a way no one else would have dared speak to me."

"Perhaps, but that, too, is a gift, no? It gave her a chance to finally help you, just like she’s been trying to for months. And I wouldn’t worry about what the others have seen. From my experience, I can practically guarantee it was helpful to them. It would have been warnings of the future, of the consequences of their choices."

"I can see why you call it a gift," I said softly, the weight of her words settling over me like a mantle. My gaze drifted toward the Aetherial Prism still clutched in my hand, its light muted but present. "Any leader would give anything to go back in time and fix their mistakes. To know the calamities and troubles of their kingdom before even taking the throne..."

"Yes, that is the blessing of Fate," she agreed, her gaze gentle as she looked at me. "Now, regarding the prism that troubles you. You need not fear it. Such prisms were designed as special aides to those chosen by the gods. The stronger the mage, the more potential they can draw from its depths. In recent ages, they’ve been wielded by individual mages to exert tremendous power upon the battlefield. But in their original creation, they were intended as a tool to support an eighth-level mage in their ascent to the ninth.

"They hold a fraction of all divinity, allowing them to be used freely by mages and priests of all attributes. The longer one holds them, the more they attune to that particular prism. If you continue to wield it, you’ll find it will grow as familiar to you as your staff."

I looked down at the lantern in my hands, seeing it with new eyes. "Where does it get its mana from?"

"Everywhere, and everyone. It constantly absorbs the power within the fabric of fate itself. It’s possible to drain one, but in time, it will fill again. One of this capacity would require several ninth-level spells to empty, and could recover to its peak in less than a month."

"You’re speaking of true mana, aren’t you. That’s why I can’t sense its source," I said, turning to look at the shard.

Fate nodded. "Indeed.

"So it draws in the true mana and then converts it to divine?" I asked.

"Something like that. It is upon these principles that we used to develop these artifacts that I began my research into true mana. By reverse engineering it, I managed to create this shard."

I stared at the shard, my mind reeling. All this power, drawn from the very fabric of fate itself, is contained within this small crystal. And I had used it to fire the cannon, to bring ruin upon the world. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Could I do it too?" I whispered, my gaze fixed on the prism. "With Adaptive Resistance, I mean. It siphons mana from spells like the prism draws from fate. Could I try to absorb true mana?"

"Perhaps, but I discourage the notion," Fate said, taking my chin, pulling my gaze up to meet hers. She wore a stern expression. "Your soul is as ill adapted to true mana as it was infernal. But, unlike infernal, you won’t simply get used to it. Even a small ribbon of true mana could spell disaster, permanently crippling the nature cycle of your native mana. Do you understand?"

I nodded, my tail curling tightly around my leg as a shiver ran down my spine. The very thought of exposing my soul to another foreign power made me flinch. Between the innate weakness that left my body unable to support its own weight, the scars carved deep by the soulbinder, and the damage I’d suffered escaping the southern continent, it was already so fragile. Adding true mana to that mix...I doubted the patchwork of my soul would withstand something like that.

"I’m sorry," I said, looking away. "I shouldn’t have asked."

She stared at me harder, relenting only when she was certain I’d taken the warning to heart. She smiled faintly, letting me go. "I’d be more concerned if you’d asked out of lust for power, rather than naive curiosity. Your innocence is endearing, in a way, so don’t let it go."

The gravity of her warning did little to quell my spirits. For the first time ever, I felt Fate had finally been transparent with me, answering every one of my questions without evasion or half-truths. And now, properly understanding the nature of the prism, I could move forward without fear.

Giving Fate another hug, and then one to Arantius, I left the cathedral, a bounce in my step and a swish in my tail. I didn’t bother waiting for Nithalee. As far as I knew, it would be weeks, if not months, before she showed her face again.

"Haven, would you inform Emlica that I’ll be leaving?" I said to empty air as I crossed the Heart of Haven. "If her guest wants to leave, she’ll have to wait for me to visit again."

"Will that be long?" the spirit whispered with the breeze.

"I’ll be spending a lot more time here in the future. Every day, I hope."

"Then I’ll deliver the message. Good luck outside, and be sure to bring more mortals around. It’s been some time since your friends have sparred with the remnants, and I’ve been forced to listen to their grumbling."

I couldn’t help a smile. "Alright, I’ll tell them. And...there will be more, soon. Lots more. I’m tired of the remnants acting surprised whenever I hug them. Even Arantius didn’t know what to do! They need friends, and lots of them."

When I emerged from the gate, letting it close behind me, I was greeted by a silver wall of fur. I fell back, giggling, as Fable gently knocked me over, cushioning my fall with his tail. I had to drop the tome and Prism to keep them from getting crushed against me. Fable was on me in an instant, licking my face and whining eagerly. I yelped and squirmed under his head, burying my face in his fur to hide from his rasping tongue.

"Stop that! What’s got you so excited?" I giggled.

"That would be me! We were just playing," Sari said, poking her head over his shoulder, startling me.

"Sari! What are you doing here? I thought you went to the fair."

Her ears twitched, tail swishing. "I did, but...I had a feeling."

I waited for her to elucidate, but she just avoided my gaze, awkwardly gripping her skirt. She was wearing a light yellow off-shoulder dress, with long sleeves and a short, ruffled skirt. She really did like wearing that style of dress. Was it just because she was from Heartland?

"What kind of feeling?" I asked, keeping my tone light.

She shrugged, chewing on her lip. "That...you needed me."

I rested a hand on her shoulder, smiling faintly. "Thank you, Sari. It means more to me than you’ll ever know. But you can’t always drop everything you’re doing for me. As much as I love being with you, I love it even more when you’re off making your own happy memories. They took so much from you...please, don’t let me take what you have left. You should be running around and playing, not trying to share my darkness. You’ll have plenty of that in time."

I held my breath as her ears flattened, but she just let out a breath, her shoulders slumping.

"Alright," she whispered, looking away. "But I still want to help."

"And I’m not saying you can’t. Just..." I hesitated, glancing at the tome. It lay in the grass, the rune for ’heart’ face up. "Just don’t forget to be yourself, too."

She followed my gaze, her tail twitching curiously. "What’s this?"

"It’s nothing," I said, quickly picking it up, hiding it in my arms. But she wasn’t deterred, her ears perking as her eyes narrowed.

"That’s the rune for the Heart Crest," she gasped, tail bristling.

"You...recognized it?"

She nodded, her small aura spiking. "Master was always reading documents and books with that crest. I think it was part of his research."

"That it was. Nithalee gave it to me. It’s all of her notes and studies, all of the things she never gave to them. But it’s not actually about the heart crest," I admitted. "Most of it is on the soul binder."

"Soul Binder?" Sari tilted her head, eyes glinting.

I edged away, not liking the way her tail twitched. Whatever trepidation she’d had was gone. Why did she seem so curious now?

"Can I read it?" she asked suddenly.

"What? But why...what could you possibly want to know of in here?" My voice shook as I clutched the book closer. It wasn’t just notes. It was...me. I didn’t know how much Nithalee had written about the means by which they extracted this information, and I didn’t want to. So why would Sari? Wasn’t she afraid of dredging up painful memories of her own?

"Please?" she asked, clasping her hands pleadingly.

I hesitated, tail flicking anxiously. As much as I hated to admit it, she had every right to learn the truth of the heart crest. It had cost her everything, just as it had me. I wasn’t ready to read it, but if she was...

I squeezed my eyes shut, letting out a small whimper. Slowly, my hands shaking, I loosened my grip on the tome, holding it out to her. Sari took it reverently, tracing the rune on the cover with her finger. She looked up, meeting my gaze with a serious expression.

"I’ll take care of it, okay? You can’t trust me," she promised.

I nodded weakly, gripping my skirt. "I do, it’s just...be careful. Not all knowledge is good. Sometimes, it hurts."

She nodded solemnly, placing the book in her spatial ring, a gift from Selena. "Thank you, Starlight."

I watched as she scampered off, her tail waving excitedly. I sank to my knees, dress pooling around my legs.

"I’ll never understand her," I whispered, watching her fox tail vanish around the corner.

Fyren glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"How can she be so excited about this. What is it she expects to learn?"

"Who knows with mortal children. They’re all so strange," Zephyriss said, chuckling. "You included."