2 Days Left
Altha woke to the soft rustling of pages beneath his cheek. Blinking groggily, he lifted his head from the open book, its pages slightly crinkled from where he had pressed against them in his sleep.
To his right, Solace snored softly, sprawled across his bed. To his left—empty air.
Sitting up, he stretched before trudging toward the garage. The moment he entered, he found Cecily already at work, looking as sharp as ever.
"Morning," she greeted, giving him a casual wave without looking up from her notes. "By the way, Isolde will be joining us today."
Altha raised an eyebrow. "Okay… what for?"
"To put you to the test, obviously," she said, crossing one leg over the other. "And to help you learn Runic Combinations."
His brow furrowed slightly. "Are you going somewhere?"
Cecily glanced up. "Huh? What makes you think that?"
"Well..." Altha simply looked her up and down.
She wore a loose black T-shirt, the fabric just snug enough to hint at her shape, draped casually over her frame. Across the front, a snarling two-headed Doberman bared its teeth. The shirt slouched off one shoulder slightly, its sleeves hanging just enough to look oversized—effortless, comfortable, yet undeniably deliberate. High-cut denim shorts, frayed at the edges, clung to her legs.
Altha smirked. "Call it a hunch?"
Cecily narrowed her eyes. "Is it because of how I'm dressed?"
"No, it's how you're sitting." Altha sat down, flipping open his Eidolimancy Script.
She exhaled through her nose, setting her book aside before standing. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you." Moving to the workbench, she touched a watch hovering over a cylindrical device. Beside it, an orange-red crystal pulsed with shifting hues. "If you must know, this is Cassilyth's doing. She and I had a deal of sorts."
Altha leaned back slightly. "And that deal involved giving you a makeover?"
She pressed a finger to the watch, and it shifted, expanding into a sleek gauntlet that wrapped around her forearm. "She wanted to tweak my wardrobe a bit, and I couldn't very well deny one of my protégés, now could I?"
The gauntlet was constructed of segmented metallic plates, its sleek black and gunmetal-gray surface interwoven with intricate hexagonal joints. Pulsating pale-white energy lines coursed through it like veins, giving the device an almost living presence.
At the wrist, a circular core pulsed, radiating faint concentric rings of energy—like a heart beating in time with her Ether.
Cecily channelled a stream of Ether into the gauntlet. The rings at her wrist opened, revealing a small compartment. With a practiced motion, she picked up the Mirror-Fract, shrinking it to the size of a pebble before slotting it inside. The gauntlet sealed shut, its segmented lines glowing a deep orange-red as it shifted back into the form of a watch.
Altha extended his right wrist toward her. "Am I one of your protégés too?"
Cecily turned, about to tell him to extend his arm—only to find him already doing so.
A small, amused smirk tugged at her lips as she stepped closer. Fastening the watch around his wrist, she fiddled with the adjustable wrist clamps trying to tease out the most optimal, yet comfy settings.
"No," she said. "But if you make it back alive… perhaps."
Altha sighed. "Hmm…"
Cecily imbued the watch with a pulse of her Ether. The device gleamed with orange-red light, its structure shifting—flattening, stretching—until it became a sleek silver bracer. The material moulded to his wrist like a second skin, its surface smooth yet metallic, moving seamlessly with the dictates of his skin.
Altha flexed his fingers, tightning his metacarpals, watching as the bracer adjusted to the dictates of his skin like some steel-forged extension of his body. "What kind of metal is this?"
"It's called Enhypen," Cecily said. "Named for its 'hugging' property—it's flexible, durable, and adaptive. A staple in crafting Arcanum industry-wide. Even the 'Verdant Weave' brand incorporate it into their fashion. It's really quite an astonishing mineral." She crossed her arms, tilting her head. "Yours is special, though. If you study your Arcana-Mathematica properly, you might be able to figure out why."
He spared the bracer a glance, tilting his head.
"Even that form-fitting training gear you're wearing was fashioned from Enhypen," she added. "Oh, before I forget have you seen Seth around here anywhere?"
Altha shook his head.
"Well, darn. I'll have to go find him. Focus on Rune Placement until Isolde arrives. It might be a while before I'm back."
With a nod, Altha flipped open his Eidolimancy Script, letting himself sink into study.
---
After an hour of memorization, Altha took to practical application.
Drawing on the Runes of Elements & Nature, he selected the Tide Rune—a symbol of water, fluidity, and adaptation. Pairing it with Runes of Motion & Force, specifically Kinetic Runes, he wrote out an incantation on paper.
Because of the spell's simplicity—and the precision of his inscription—he mitigated the need for a more potent catalyst.
He filled a small bucket with water, carried it outside the garage, and set it down. Channeling Psyche into the inscriptions, he placed the paper against the water's surface. The symbols gleamed with a dull gray light before sinking into the liquid.
The water trembled.
A moment later, it rose—twisting upward into a column, shifting and swaying as if alive.
Altha turned toward his target—a tall wooden stump in the distance.
In his hand, he held small rune-inscribed notes, each written with Kinetic Runes and Runes of Control:
Duration Rune: Determines the lifespan of arcane effects, physical states, or even emotions.
Diameter Rune: Determines the size of a spell's impact, the area affected by an enchantment, or the expansion/contraction of an object.
Range Rune: Governs the maximum reach of a spell, weapon, or phenomenon.
Mass Rune: Alters the mass of entities, making them heavier or lighter. It can also affect density, and how much of an element you want to use.
Throwing the papers into the miniature tower of water, they each emerged on the other side as balls of high-velocity water bullets that travelled a total of 15 feet before dispersing across the tall stump's surface.
Three out of the four shots found their mark. The other strayed and nearly hit Isolde who had just apperated on top of the tall stump. Effortlessly she waved it away.
"Not bad, not bad at all. I'm sensing promise here." She jumped down from the stump and walked over. Her blonde wavy hair blew in the wind, short strands dancing in the morning breeze. "Hard to believe you're just a rookie."
"Where did you come from?" Altha asked.
"I've been here the whole time." She stated, patting him on the shoulder.
"So you've been spying on me."
"I like to think of it as examining the goods." She answered.
"That's what they all say."
Isolde shot him a sidelong glare, "I don't know what you could possibly be implying. I'm just a concerned teacher trying to look out for her student. It would be irresponsible of me to leave you unsupervised in a matter as dangerous as the Arcane."
Altha chuckled, "You don't say, well then tell me 'teacher Isolde'. How do we start the lesson?"
Something shifted in her expression—a flicker of amusement, a glint of something dangerous. She turned toward the bucket of water, lips curling into a smirk.
Summoning her tome, strands of pale blue light coiled around her fingers as a thick tome materialized in her grasp. With one fluid motion, she tore a page from the book.
Pouring Ether into the parchment, the runes glowed faintly before transmuting the page into water. The half-empty bucket filled to the brim.
Waving a hand, she commanded the water upward. However, unlike Altha's crude construct, her control was absolute—several orbs of liquid detached from the main body, rotating in a controlled formation. Then, with a wave of her hand, several water bullets shot out and encircled the stump before closing in and forming into a whirlwind of water all around it.
Altha's brows rose. "…Impressive."
Isolde hummed. "You haven't seen anything yet."
She raised a single finger, tracing an unseen pattern in the air.
The whirlwind shifted. Crystalline fractals formed within it, spreading outward like veins of frost. The entire construct solidified in seconds—encasing the stump in shimmering ice.
She clapped her hands together. "Tada~ Mid-Spell Runic Combination."
Altha stared at the frozen stump, his mind racing. "How—? I thought incantations couldn't be altered once invoked."
Isolde shrugged, folding her arms. "I guess I'm just that awesome."
Altha exhaled. "That still doesn't explain anything."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. It's my Supposition. I'm an Inscriptor."
Altha tilted his head. "Supposition?"
"You really don't know?" She sighed dramatically. "Supposition is a person's influence over the fundamental laws of the arcane, physics, biology—you name it. It determines how we bend, reconstruct, or redefine those laws."
She glanced at him. "Your Supposition is meant to counteract your Meaning—your critical flaw. It's what holds you back. What binds your potential."
Altha processed her words, his mind latching onto three things:
1. His Meaning.
2. His Supposition.
3. The fact that he had no idea what they were.
Altha dropped into a squat, gripping either side of his head. "I'm so screwed."
Isolde crouched beside him, resting an elbow on her knee. "So what if you're ignorant of what's common knowledge here? Plenty of people die despite knowing." She gave him a pointed look. "Besides, you've already escaped once. Sure, you were close to the borders between realities, but still…"
She paused, then pulled him closer in a half-supportive, half-teasing gesture. "Tell you what—I'll teach you some standard Runic Combinations and the core principles behind them. Then, if we have time, I'll educate you a little on Astrals."
Altha sighed but nodded. "I suppose."
Isolde patted his back and stood. "We'll have you up to speed in no time."
It took an hour for Isolde to fully explain the basics. With her guidance, Altha learned that her incantation was the result of combining Alchemical Symbols with Runes—a technique he had considered during his late nights flipping through his Eidolimancy Script but couldn't entertain the idea long enough to consider how the practical applications of such a feat would play out in practical Runic Inscription.
She gave him a basic rundown of the four primary elements: Air, Earth, Fire, and Water.
From there, he moved on to practicing.
His first attempt was a failure. So was his second. And his third.
Sitting cross-legged before the bucket of water, he tried to focus, tracing the runic inscriptions carefully. But each time he attempted to transmute the paper into liquid, nothing happened.
Minutes stretched into failure after failure. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his neutral expression betraying nothing of the frustration gnawing at him. His Psyche Energy was dwindling—each unsuccessful attempt draining him further.
Feeling his reserves thinning, he finally turned to Isolde, who had been silently writing in her book the entire time.
"Uhh… Help?"
She smirked but didn't look up. "I was waiting for you to ask."
Standing, she performed the incantation again, this time deliberately slowing her movements. Altha studied her closely—her Runic Placement, her Rune Structure, the exact way she wove Alchemical Symbols into the equation.
This time, he understood. He inhaled deeply and gave it one final shot.
Writing the incantation onto a fresh page, he hovered it over the bucket, closing his eyes in deep concentration. He visualized the energy flow, channelled his Psyche, and pressed his thoughts into the script.
Silence stretched on...
Then—a ripple.
The paper darkened, ink bleeding outward as moisture seeped into it. Droplets formed along the edges, trailing downward. With a soft drip, the water returned to the bucket below. Most of the page was drenched by now.
Altha exhaled, watching his first real success take form. A slow smile crept onto his lips—then, exhaustion hit. His energy spent, he collapsed onto his back, arms sprawled across the dirt.
But he wasn't the only one who noticed his triumph.
Isolde had been watching from the sidelines, her expression unreadable. For a moment, something flickered across her face—something she couldn't explain.
Walking over, she extended a hand.
Altha took it, letting her pull him to his feet.
"Not bad, rookie." A subtle smile played on her lips. "Not bad at all."
She allowed him to retreat to his room, handing him a page of notes as he left.
Apparently, it was something she had been writing throughout the lesson.
Introduction
Astrals are individuals who have completed their Somniate Trials and trespassed into realms beyond mortal comprehension. This is typically achieved by entering a Spire and successfully enduring its trial.
Somniate Trials involve navigating the Outer and returning to the Living Multiverse. The journey is fraught with harrowing obstacles, both physical and psychological.
One is advised to sleep as little as possible during this process—dreams have been known to draw Outer-Existials to the dreamer. Visions of unspeakable horrors plague them in sleep, their frequency dependent on the history of the location they inhabit.
Upon becoming an Astral, one's Athar is strengthened and purified. The transformation affects the body profoundly—denser bones, increased muscular efficiency, improved and enhanced blood circulation...
The notes trailed off into further details.
But by then, exhaustion had caught up to Altha. His vision blurred as his mind struggled to process the weight of the words.
Dreams were few for someone like Altha and those that did come to him often proved hard to escape or even to run away from. Such was 'her' voice so plenty, echoing out through the silence and darkness, reaching out to nowhere.
"208.7.59... 58... 57... 56..."
The dream was untouchable—an all-encompassing presence. Neither warm nor cold, wet nor dry. Yet it was aware of him. And he of it.
The message was clear. Time was fraying at the fringes.
Altha's eyes snapped open. His breath came slow and steady, but something about the dream clung to him. The countdown. The urgency.
The sun hung high—noon had already come.
Shaking the remnants of sleep from his mind, he made his way to the garage.
Inside, he found Cecily and Seth at the same workbench. Cecily was hunched over a computer, analyzing graphs and intricate 3D diagrams, while Seth tinkered with a small USB drive, adjusting its code and energy synapses.
Not wanting to interrupt, Altha scanned the room, searching for his Eidolimancy Script.
Without looking up, Cecily pointed to a pile of books stacked neatly on the other workstation. He quickly understood, sifting through the pile in silence.
"I'm surprised you're awake," Cecily mused, amusement threading through her tone. "Isolde told me you collapsed after your lesson."
Altha didn't respond, flipping open the book as he took a seat.
"She seemed rather impressed—"
Before Seth could finish, Cecily yanked him into a huddle, whispering, "Don't tell him that. Kid's gonna get a big head. I'm trying to keep him grounded."
Seth raised a brow. "You think he needs to be knocked down a peg?" He glanced over her shoulder at Altha, who sat quietly, reading. Noticing the attention, Altha offered an awkward wave.
He waved back, "Actually it seems like he could do with more compliments. I doubt they'd inflate his ego."
She shook her head, "I would rather we do without the risk. You know what hubris does to people. He'll get his compliments when the time is right."
Rolling his eyes, Seth sighed but nodded. They broke the huddle and resumed their work.
"So," Seth said after a moment, turning his chair toward Altha. "How are you feeling about your trial?"
Altha didn't look up. "I don't know what to expect, so I don't know how to feel." He hesitated. "…Maybe anxious?"
Seth nodded. "That's fair. I won't lecture you about the Spire or the trials. I only have one piece of advice for you." He leaned forward slightly. "Fear is fine. Whether it makes you shake, run, or hide—it's human to feel that way. But in the Outer, once all is said and done…" His eyes darkened slightly. "You must not forget that you are a monster too."
Altha absorbed the words, fingers still resting on the open pages of his book.
"We are all monsters in some sense," he murmured. "But that begs the question—what is a monster?"
Seth smiled. "I knew I liked you, kid."
The day passed in quiet focus. Altha alternated between studying his Eidolimancy Script and practicing survival tactics—starting fires, finding clean water, setting traps, and catching food.
But as night settled, he could stave off sleep no longer.
Morning arrived too soon.
Altha woke, immediately reaching for his Eidolimancy Script before heading to the garage.
Inside, Cecily and Seth were waiting. Cassilyth, Solace, and Sumi stood with them.
The moment Cassilyth spotted him, she broke into a grin, pulling him into a quick hug. She leaned over his shoulder, eyes flicking to his wrist.
"I see my design is working flawlessly." She smirked. "Not that I expected anything less."
Sumi waved as Solace came over to give him a fistbump.
Before Altha could respond, Seth approached with a USB stick in hand.
He injected a pulse of Ether into Altha's bracer. Instantly, the material shifted—morphing seamlessly to form a matching USB port. When Seth inserted the new USB stick, the two merged, the device vanishing into the bracer's structure.
Altha raised an eyebrow. "And that… does what exactly?"
Seth winked. "Consider it my gift to you."
Cassilyth narrowed her eyes. "You don't usually give gifts." She crossed her arms. "Am I missing something?"
Seth merely shrugged. "Couldn't very well go back on my word now, could I?"
Altha turned his wrist, staring at the bracer. A gift.
"Thank you." Altha expressed. He extended a hand for a fistbump.
Returning the gesture it wasn't too long before they all left. Altha remained in the garage, the night air cool against his skin. After a long day of study, exhaustion tugged at his limbs, but something in the quiet kept him from retiring just yet.
The door creaked open.
Sumi's head peeked inside, her dark eye turning a deep shade of crimson under the light and the grey one almost glowing as they met his.
"Uhh… Hi?" Altha raised a brow.
She hesitated before lifting a hand in a small wave.
"…Do you wanna come in?" he asked awkwardly.
She stepped fully into the room, skittering over to his side before rolling a chair next to his. Though she left a comfortable distance between them, her presence alone filled the quiet.
Her fingers drummed lightly against the cover of her sketchbook as it rested on her lap. "So… today's the day, huh?" Her tapping slowed, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Somehow, it feels longer than a week… and yet still too short."
She glanced at him, as if searching for a reaction.
Altha simply smiled. A quiet, warm smile.
Her grip on the sketchbook tightened. She flipped through the pages absentmindedly before hesitating—her fingers pausing over one in particular.
Before she could turn the page, Altha gently pressed a finger on it.
She blinked.
"Oh, right. My drawing," he murmured. "You kept it?"
Sumi smiled, almost shyly. "Of course. It's wonderful, so I had to."
Altha pulled his chair closer, close enough that their knees brushed. He studied the drawing more closely, taking in the delicate lines, the careful attention to detail.
"I don't know… I've seen your sketches, and frankly, mine doesn't even come close."
"There's no need to compare it." Her grip on the book tightened slightly. "It's good on its own."
"I see." He scratched the back of his neck. "Well, if you like it, then who am I to argue with the book's owner?"
She hesitated, then turned the page.
Altha's breath caught. It was a sketch of him—sparring with Solace.
The image was dynamic, bursting with movement. Every line carried energy, every shadow emphasized the tension in his stance. It was almost too lifelike. As if she had captured not just the moment, but the feeling of the fight itself.
For once, he found himself speechless.
"Sorry, I… inspiration just struck after seeing you fight. I couldn't get the image out of my head, so I—"
"This is amazing." Altha surged forward, his eyes shining. "Could you—" He stopped himself, hesitating. "…Uhh, never mind."
Sumi fidgeted, her fingers twisting together. A soft flush crept into her cheeks. "I'm glad you like it." She exhaled, as if gathering courage. "If you make it back… then maybe I could show you a thing or two?"
Altha nodded slowly.
They fell into a soft silence, sitting in the quiet of the garage, neither willing to move just yet.
The door creaked open again.
Cassilyth peeked in, her voice playful. "Sumi, what's taking you so long?"
Sumi quickly stood, closing her sketchbook. "Oh, right. Must have slipped my mind."
Before Altha could ask what was happening, she and Cassilyth both placed a hand over his eyes.
"Just trust us," Cassilyth said, amusement lacing her voice.
Altha sighed but didn't resist.
When they finally let go, Altha blinked against the sudden warm glow of candlelight.
He was in the dining room.
Before him, a grand feast was laid out—bowls of steaming food, fresh-baked bread, roasted meat, colourful spreads of fruit and vegetables. The table was full. Everyone was there.
He looked around, bewildered. "What's going on here?"
Cecily raised her glass, and the others followed her lead. "Well, today is the final day," she said, her voice smooth and confident. "So we figured we'd send you off with a feast. Now, pick up your glass and let's toast to your future success."
Altha hesitated but reached for his glass.
The moment their glasses clinked together, conversation erupted around him.
They ate. Yet as the meal went on, Altha noticed something.
Everyone was watching him.
He slowed his chewing. "Uhh… am I doing something wrong?"
Solace casually scooped more food onto Altha's plate.
"Uhh…Okay?" Altha said, eyeing him warily.
Seth laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, sorry, excuse our manners. It's just… we hardly ever see you eat. So we were a little… concerned."
Altha looked down at his plate. Then he chuckled. "I suppose I had this coming." He shook his head, a small, amused smile forming. "Sorry to worry you all."
They all laughed, and the conversation flowed freely.
For much of the night, they shared stories. Cecily told an outrageous tale from her past that Seth immediately refuted. Solace attempted to teach Cassilyth a card trick, only to get outmaneuvered. Isolde made a dramatic retelling of the first time she saw Altha fight, embellishing heavily. Sumi mostly listened, but she smiled more than usual.
And as midnight deigned, Altha's form waned, and soon his seat on the table was empty with only his training gear left on the chair and a faint remnance of warmth, alluding to what once was.