It was one thing to say that the south must have been a major city. Seeing it was something completely different. It was already morning by the time Dallion reached the top of the “mountain” that made it impossible for him to see the aetherbird. However, he managed to see something else. The spot was a perfect vantage point to look over a large part of the canyon. From this vantage point he could see the markings of the massive crater, but that was not all. His scholar skill allowed him to envisage that which had long been destroyed. Hills became massive buildings connected by subway lines that spread out in all directions. What crime had they done—or rather, what crime had the Star made them do—for such a marvel of the ancient world to have been utterly destroyed and all memory of it erased from the world? Dallion had his suspicions; however the Moons weren’t known for their sharing nature, and all the people who did know were forbidden from talking about it.
Dallion caught himself wondering what it must have been like. Modern technology coupled with infinite power. There was little the Star-touched couldn’t do. There already were trains, land and air vehicles would have followed, and why not rockets? Could it be that it had caused the destruction of the Star’s kingdom? The attempt to colonize a Moon, killing it in the process? A similar attempt would have been seen as an attack later on, to the point that by the age of Dryads, everyone was convinced that the Star had killed a Moon. Later, even those stories vanished into oblivion. That was how myths were born, later becoming superstition. Of course, the truth might have been a lot more trivial. It was always possible that the Star indeed wanted to take over the world.
“What a waste,” Dallion said.
Whatever the reason for the catastrophe, it had left a crater or ruins, visited only by mercenaries scavenging the edges of the domain. No people, no guardians, only monsters and Star-spawn.
“Nil, do you think there’s anything close to what this has been?”
Dallion had seen two cities of what was believed to be a less significant province. Even the ruins on which Nerosal had been built were infinitely times more impressive than anything that existed in the world at present. That, too, must have paled in comparison to this place.
Probably not, the old echo replied.
“Is that why you don’t like coming here?”
There are many reasons, but yes, that’s one of them. It goes to show there’s no telling when it would occur again. There was a time when I too was curious, searching for secrets of the past. Not the trinkets that get peddled in Nerosal, but artifacts of real power. It’s said that everything created by the Star was destroyed. However, that’s not always the case. There are parts, materials, blueprints as long as one has the strength to look.
“Did you come here?”
Nil didn’t reply.
“Did you find anything?”
That’s the thing about you otherworlders. You always ask what was found, while you should be asking what was lost. Hopefully, that’s a lesson you’ve now learned.
The atypical spitefulness in the echo’s response made Dallion stop with his questions. The sad thing was that the echo was right on both accounts. Ever since arriving here, Dallion craved for adventure. Like his grandfather, he wasn’t content with what he had. He could have easily remained in his village upon defeating the village chief. He could even have been the one to level it up to town status. Instead, he’d gone to Nerosal. That too had proved too small to contain him. The urge of exploration was always inside, practically forcing him to swap the city for the wilderness. Now, the wilderness no longer felt enough. Dallion wanted to learn about the world’s past, the hidden history that had been removed from minds and records. Also, he felt that he didn’t want to receive orders from nobles anymore.
Dallion looked at his backpack. He’d have ditched it long ago if it wasn’t for the guardians of the items he carried. If Gleam were still here, he might have done just that, ordering her to carry his belongings back to Nerosal. There was no doubt that a whole brew of trouble was brewing back there. The way things were escalating, he wouldn’t be shocked if the province was in the middle of an all-out civil war. If anything, he was surprised that no mercenaries had ventured in the fallen south after him. Maybe the Star had made sure to keep him safe. On the other hand, it hadn’t done anything to prevent the spectral shardfly from doing what it did.
“I’ll get some sleep,” Dallion said, making his way to the inside of the mountain. “Ruby, keep an eye out, but don’t show yourself. I don’t want to lose you.”
The shardfly flew off his shoulder. It was taking the death of Gleam far worse than Dallion. Being a creature of little words, the difference wasn’t immediately apparent. Thanks to his music skills, however, Dallion could feel the heart wrenching sadness constantly emanating from Ruby.
A small “cave” tunnel led to the series of rooms beneath the summit. They gave the impression of being a large penthouse. There was no furniture or any objects whatsoever. Similar to the towers Dallion had seen in the neighboring region of the south, they had probably been created by “void matter” and fizzled off, or been scooped up by some star-spawn or other. There didn’t seem to be any cutlings or even cracklings anywhere near, as if they had been confined to the canyon itself, but not the “mountain.”
The hours dragged on. Despite Dallion’s many attempts to fall asleep, the most he achieved were a few half hour naps. Each time he’d wake up hoping that it was evening, only to find the sun shining brightly in the sky. At one point, he even did a few practice fights in the room, slicing through walls and floor with the new combat trick he’d learned. Not too long ago, point and line attacks were the most destructive moves he’d considered. Even then, he wouldn’t use them indiscriminately. Now, he couldn’t see himself fighting with anything less. He’d even asked Harp if it would be efficient when doing line attacks while the harpsisword was vibrating. The answer was no, of course. The new method was only a close range effect, although the nymph guardian had hinted that upon improving his music skill further, he could do a lot more devastation.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the sun reached the horizon. Ruby was the one that told Dallion about the sunset, making him to go back out again. Before he did, Dallion checked the artifact the general had given him. Supposedly, it had the power to lower the Star’s level to his own—a claim that remained to be proven.
There’s no point in being tense, Nil said. Having a clear mind is preferable regardless of anything else.
Dallion didn’t reply. For the first time in a while, he was feeling eager. After fearing and running from this moment for so long, he finally wanted to have it over with.
There’s no indication that the Star will show up.
“You’re probably right,” Dallion lied. There was no doubt that the Star wanted the phoenix. Some restriction must have been placed on Arthurows by the Moons, preventing him from capturing the bird outright. If not, he’d have done so already. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time the Star had lied about something.
A single pale Moon became visible in the sky—the Purple Moon.
Guess that’s one thing you didn’t lie about, Dallion thought. All that remained was to wait for the next part to be true.
The blink of the eye later, the Moon was right above Dallion, triple its usual size.
“I’m asleep,” Dallion said. The only time he’d seen something of the sort happen was in dreams. The Green Moon was particularly fond of presenting himself in such fashion.
“All that power and you don’t know how to use it,” a familiar voice sounded behind Dallion. Instinctively, he burst into instances, drawing his weapon in several of them.
No sooner had he done so, that he found all of them gone. The weapon was still on his back, leaving him standing there, looking at a purple bird not too far away.
The aetherbird gave the impression of smirking, even if it was incapable of physically doing so. Looking at it, the creature was very different from what Dallion expected. Barely the size of a sparrow, it had the slightly prolonged neck of Lux. Its plumage—entirely composed of purple flames—shined, glowed, and flickered simultaneously, making Dallion doubt that it was even real.
“I didn’t know you can force split,” Dallion took a cautious step forward. To his surprise, the atherbird didn’t bother moving. Possibly it considered the probability of capture too low to care.
“I’m the embodiment of magic. What did you expect?” The phoenix flew up, then flew onto Dallion’s shoulder… right over Ruby.
The shardfly reacted as expected, fluttering away in panic. As far as reality was concerned, it had flown through the air. And yet, the aetherbird was also there.
“You’re different from what I expected.”
“Just because of our encounter before?”
“Encounter before?” Dallion asked.
“In that mage village. You made quite the impression at the time. Mostly because you were the first person actually able to talk to me in centuries. You’ve no idea how boring life of a Moon familiar can get. All the boredom, though only part of the security.”
“You’re your own echo?”
“I’m magic. Magic is full of exceptions and paradoxes. I thought you’d grasped that by now. I can’t die, yet I live. When I’m defeated, I can delay the effect pretty much for as long as I like.” There was a slight pause. “Alright, that’s an exaggeration. You still get the picture.”
Dallion attempted to pat the creature. His hand passed right through it until he reached his own shoulder. It was almost like trying to grab smoke… or a flame.
“You know why I’m here, right?” he asked.
“I doubt even you know why you’re here.” The aetherbird chirped in laughter. “Given that you don’t want to catch me. And in the grand scope of things, it doesn’t matter. The last bunch that captured me thought they’d change things—for themselves and others. How did that work out? They definitely changed things, but none of them got what they wanted.”
“I want someone not to capture you.”
“Oh? That’s new.”
“The Star wants you.” Dallion paused. Was it wise to share that? The Moons already knew, which likely meant that the familiar did.
“There you go again. And to think you’re considered the new kid on the field. It’s true what they say—the chase is better than the catch. You think all this hasn’t happened before? Look around, what does this tell you?”
Dallion’s heart skipped a beat. This was something he hadn’t thought about. It was true that everyone who knew the world’s past was forbidden from sharing that knowledge, the same didn’t apply to the aetherbird. Being magic, the creature was the living exception, not to mention a Moon’s familiar. It could tell everything he wanted to know and more.
Eager, Dallion attempted to split into instances. Sadly, each time he tried, the instances would fade away almost as soon as they appeared. The phoenix was forcing one reality and one alone.
“Just give up. You don’t have the level.”
“So that means when I reach level eighty, I’ll be able to?”
“Ha! It’ll have to be a bit higher than that. And the way you’re doing it’ll take you decades to get there. That’s one of the things I can’t figure out about you. You’ve got all that power, and you use half of it to suppress the other half.”
“What do you mean?”
“Forget the Star, you fear so many people in this world that it’s not even funny. You’ve got three of the rare skills and a ridiculously high level, and you know how to use them. But do you? Most of the time you’re trying to find a way to actively avoid them and when you actually use them, it’s for gossiping.”
The comment hit a certain nerve. It was easy to say that Dallion had subconsciously kept himself from going all out, but the truth was, he was doing it consciously.