*******************
Johnny Caldwell
I ask my question nervously and sweaty. The man in front of me is legendary, even if I did not know of him a month ago. All my life I thought the Prime was a unique existence, a once-in-a-century kind of figure. But that is simply not the case. Isaac, Waren, and even Iva with her insanity are testaments to what we can be.
They all might be dead, but in death, they reached the same peak the Prime has. Although, where they place on that peak is unknown, for the Prime is said to be powerful even amongst other 9th Sigils. There is a reason why neither of the Binary Lords, Behemoth and Leviathan, the Pygmy’s trio of High Architects and single Creator, nor the entirety of the Nahullo’s Ogema Council are willing to fight him.
The man might be a tyrant and unwilling to help the weak, but not a single man alive can argue one simple fact. He is strong. Very strong. Strong enough to leave swathes of desolation in his wake whenever he does decide to move. The Swarming Wastelander, The Executioner of Dust is a being unlike any other, and as such, this man in front of me deserves the same level of respect.
So, I wait for his answer with anxiousness as he looks at me, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. After a few seconds, though, Isaac puts his hands on his desk and pushes himself up with a harrumph before walking toward the door I didn’t even notice that closed.
“Follow me, Johnny. I am a terrible teacher, but that does not mean I cannot help you. I will show you my Archive. It is not quite as large as Warren’s, but I am proud of it.”
Isaac opens the door and motions me to walk out as I have a small panic attack. An Archive!?
I stand to attention just as fast as I would back when I was a young enlisting Hunter. Only four Archives exist in the known world, and they possess the greatest history of Ether and its techniques. No one man could ever hope to aspire to know what is found within the Athenaeum of the Pygmies, the Neyowane of the Nahullo, the Prime’s personal Archive, or the mysterious Lost Page.
My feet move with anticipation as I walk behind Isaac like a giddy child. He speaks with pride as we move through this large building made of ornate stone.
“I have spent a long time building up my Archives, but they are not just mine. They are an accumulation of the three Supremes before me who dwelled in Heights. I would love to allow you to take a large amount of knowledge to help you, but much of it must remain here. For every book taken from my Archives, that is one less to aid Her Majesty’s soldiers. I can copy books, but they are simply never the same as the original. So, I will have to limit you to just a few tomes.”
I nod in understanding and make sure to let him know I have no problem with his decision.
“That is still more than I should ask for, Isaac. I appreciate it. Truly.”
Isaac laughs at my careful words and tries to get me to loosen up by pointing out his abode made of stone.
“Lighten up, Johnny. I’m not a stickler for form or anything like that. Just the right amount of order is needed, the Devil taught us that. Too much and the prison you hold up will collapse from the strain, too little and the prison will break from inside out.”
I take his little gift of wisdom in stride as I follow him through this huge building of beautiful stone. The building's architecture is grand and imposing, with towering columns and archways. The columns are carved with intricate designs, depicting scenes of ancient legends and myths, while the archways are adorned with intricate reliefs of flowers, vines, and other natural motifs made completely of dark stone.
As I walk through the building's halls with the commonly dressed Isaac in front of me, I finally get a chance to experience its beauty. Every room seems to stretch on forever, with high vaulted ceilings and walls adorned with tapestries and paintings of presumably long-passed undead. One thing I do note, however, is that not a single picture bears Isaac’s likeness. The man must either be insecure or care more about others than himself. Merely based on his stride, I can guess which is the case.
Despite the place it is in, the building exudes a sense of calm and serenity, as if it were a place of refuge from the chaos of the outside world. Its beauty is a testament to the skill and dedication of its builders, a monument to the power of human creativity and craftsmanship even in the depths of hell.
Eventually, we reach a room with another double door blocking its entrance. A man in armor composed entirely of bones from demons stands in front of the double door and nods to Isaac.
“Welcome, sir.”
Isaac nods back at him with a small hello and walks past him, opening the door with a wave of his hand. I can feel a breeze of Ether come from his hand, but it's unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s not wind made of Ether, it’s just Ether given gaseous form outside the body. Incredible.
“Thank you, Stanley. Hope you're doing well today.”
I follow Isaac through the door and hear the door close behind us with a hello from Stanley as the guardsman comes inside with us. We reach a small cubby that has a desk with books lying atop it. Possibly Isaac’s study.
“I am doing fine today. No suicidal thoughts for three weeks. I hope you're doing just as nicely.”
The turn of the conversation went dark so fast that I feel like I was just smacked, but apparently, it’s normal down here as Isaac continues without a big reaction.
“That’s wonderful Stanley, and I’m doing great. It’s not every day you get to speak to a living man, right? Make sure no one comes in while Johnny and I are.”
Stanley stands at attention at the door, the burning flames in his eyes completely stable and calm just as he is.
“As always. Enjoy yourself, sir.”
Isaac nods to Stanley and moves forward, having me follow him past the study.
“I will.”
After Isaac speaks to Stanley, my vision opens to a library, and while it might not be the largest I’ve seen, the contents are what makes it impressive. Each book in this library either dictates a way of manipulating Ether, a general skill that one can use, or a path through the Sigils with great detail.
Most things like this are heavily guarded and kept out of sight. Only the Prime and the other two strongest Pillars, Maddox and Ed, have access to the Prime's Personal Archives. Only the Creator, Architects, and their chosen Weavers can access the Athenaeum. Only the Ogema Council can enter Neyowane.
Even when it comes to the individual, few are willing to teach their skills to others without a barter of a skill to themselves. For a skill to be given without a skill in exchange, large sums of money must be passed between hands for even a mediocre skill.
I look at Isaac and just have to ask for permission as I simply cannot believe he is giving me access to this.
“Is it really fine if I browse and take something?”
Isaac nods to me with a smile, but he does give me some kind of limit.
“Yes. Take whatever interests you and bring it all to me when you're done. I’ll judge what you have, and tell you what you can take and what you have to leave. Some things are more important than others, after all. The thoughts left behind by a previous Supreme will mean much more than what a Brave was willing to share before their passing.”
I nod with understanding and walk toward the bookshelves full of written power. My feet echo through the quiet Archive as I step up to the nearest bookshelf and start reading the names. Nothing seems to be ordered as they are placed here and there with no sense of direction. My fingers trail each book bound in… human... no, demon skin that draws my attention.
Handbook of Shade, Bloody Compendium, Elemental Wardrobe, Dreamwalker’s Guide To Dreams, Grimoire Of Souls, Almanac Of Ether, Artifactual Catalone, Codex Of Shape, Encyclopedia Of Phenomena In The Mind, and the Journal Of Timesplicing are just the most interesting that take my eyes from the rest.
So many books draw my attention and sound incredible, but I can only choose a few and even their content matters. There are only about six total bookshelves, however, so I can likely come back if I need to. One of the first ten I read, however, is an instant take. The Journal Of Timesplicing. The name alone warrants investigation.
The book is so old its binding is falling apart and I can see the pages from its place on the shelf. I gingerly take it and open to the first page, reading the opening and the author's name.
Remington Shaw
Journal Of Timesplicing
This journal covers my experiences with time, how to manipulate it, and my way of forming Ether into skills. I am only a blooming Angel at the 7th Sigil, so I’m sure my experiences are shallow compared to some of the monsters in the Wilds. Even then, I do hope my knowledge may help some future man who walks the same path as I. For time is fickle, and even if we twist it, we will never get back what we take. Lost time is lost forever.
I close the book and put it under my arm. Definitely a keeper. If I can learn more or better ways to use my eyes, then this could make a massive shift in my power. Remington Shaw, huh? Thank you for your wisdom.
I keep walking, reading more and more on another bookshelf, taking note of any that spark interest, but I only take note for now as I am limited to some unknown measure.
Shadowfiend Chronicles, Inheritance Of Stone, Enclosed Fists, Seer’s Sight, Handbook Of That Which Is Unknown, Tome Of Bounds, Luminous Libram, Frostbite’s Maw, Lycan’s Lythone, Burning Blazes, Serpent’s Tongue, Celestial Lunge, and the Mind’s Eye are some more that draw my attention.
So many sound incredible, and I am only able to read the opening on a few before moving on because of the sheer volume. But this bookshelf bears fruit in Enclosed Fists.
Eleanor Granger
Enclosed Fists
I am told these first pages must be short and describe what will be later in the book, but the art of combat is far too diverse to be put into a single book let alone one page. I, Eleanor, the second Supreme of Heights, will in these pages, describe what I have learned about fighting. From guns to swords, I hope to enlighten any who seek to learn how to fight, but it all begins and ends with a closed fist.
I put this book under my arm to join the Journal Of Timesplicing. A book of combat is exactly what we need. So many of my followers never experienced formal training, and those who did receive the training did not receive training good enough to make them experienced fighters. Not all can be like Wyatt with instincts as sharp as a cougar. But I have faith that even this will help him, any blade can be sharpened, after all.
From there, I keep moving, reading another bookshelf and taking note of what interests me deeply.
Chthonic Conjurations, Dark Divinens, Daemonicon, Alchemist’s Almanac About All, Darkness Within, Astral Projection, Surging Storms, Enigma, Nexus Of Blood, Chronicler Of Ether.
I finish this bookshelf by grabbing two books out of interest, first the Daemonicon from its pure oddity and the Alchemist’s Almanac About All for the potential it might have.
Flossie Hanley
Daemonicon
Demons are creatures too, and that means they must use skills with their Ether to perform their feats of power. Within this book are those which I have learned from many years of fighting them. Little is compatible with the human body without negative effects, but some might find some of the techniques within this uniquely suited for them just as I have.
The next book, the one about alchemy seems to be written by a man on the verge of madness, and if he was down here when he wrote it, which he probably was, the man likely was already insane. The words are scribbled so tightly and small that twice as much can fit on a page.
Hubert Franklin
Alchemist’s Almanac About All (AAAA) or (4A) or (*A*) or (aaaa) or (4a) (A’s works too)
The secrets of alchemy are too great for the common man to comprehend. It is not simply a matter of turning lead into gold, but rather a path to ascension. The transmutation of matter is merely a side effect of our true goal: to transform ourselves and transcend the limitations of the flesh. The great work demands sacrifice, both physical and mental, but the rewards are beyond measure. The whispers of the ancients guide me in my experiments, and through my experiments, I have touched the edges of divinity and glimpsed the forbidden knowledge of the cosmos. I am a visionary, a pioneer of the art, and I will not be deterred by the ignorant opinions of the masses. Those who scoff at our art are blind to the potential that lies within each of us, waiting to be unlocked. The alchemist is a madman, yes, but in a world so small-minded and mundane, who wouldn't be?
My work will continue, and one day, I will achieve the impossible, transcending the boundaries of mere humanity to become something greater. For now, however, I will do as Eleanor says, and I will impart my knowledge to you, the feebleminded. May you grasp whatever you can from my genius.
I close the book and add it to the list. I can see a small similarity between Earl and this Hubert. They are so confident in what they create with their minds that none can shake them. I respect it and will bring it to Earl. Hopefully, his ability to create miracles with nothing but the scrap in a town will improve. From the pride of the author, I figure what lies within must be special.
The next stop is the fourth bookshelf, and sadly, this whole bookshelf includes specific paths to power. The highly specific guidance is only useful to those who have the same Sigils or who want to walk the same path. And because of the breadth of Sigils and combinations, none of these are likely to be useful. I do still glance at them just in case one might fit.
Shadow And Ember, Otherworldly Steps, Starlit Eyes, Bloodbound Hands, Veiled Faces, Shifting Sands, Mooncrusted Arms, Crystalline Key, and Electric Dreams are the ones most relevant, but even then they are off. None fit anyone I know exactly, although, Shadow And Ember could possibly be useful for Virgil and Bonfire if they read it together.
But, I don’t take it, and move on to the next to bookshelves nestled into a corner. As I get close I notice that these two bookshelves are labeled and only partially full. The left and right are named Dzil Of Mind and Dzil Of Body.
My brain stutters as it tries to comprehend what I’m seeing. Dzils?! Dzils!!! I kneel and read the names of the legendary skills placed within these shelves. Only eight in total are here, but that doesn’t matter. I HAVE to leave with one. Even if it’s the only thing I leave with. Wait, no that’s irresponsible. Enclosed Fists is probably worth one of these for my purpose at least, even if it might not be the same price to Isaac.
Salamander’s Flesh, Force Of Will, Enclosed Fist, Eye Of Malice, Azure Bulwark, Excavator, Heart Reflection, and Comprehensive Calm are the eight skills that meet my eye. I can’t help but look at all of them to get their general traits.
Salamander’s Flesh is for regeneration, allowing one to regrow even lost limbs with enough time. Force Of Will gives one the ability to move objects, beasts, and even people with their minds. Enclosed Fist by Eleanor Granger is a focused version of the other book. It is all about a single punch, not a whole compendium of combat. Eye Of Malice temporarily paralyzes the target of the user that they are looking at. Azure Bulwark bestows the body of the user with the durability of sapphire. Excavator is a unique way of channeling Ether that allows one to store skills for later to be used instantaneously. Heart Reflection is a way of performing introspection and forcibly making yourself sane by fighting your inner demons. And finally, Comprehensive Calm makes one immune to all mental influences and removes all emotions.
Each skill is marked with over a dozen warnings of how not to use it, those who should never attempt to learn it, and the dangers even if used perfectly. Like Comprehensive Calm, if used too much will simply remove the emotions from someone entirely while something like Eye Of Malice can paralyze the eyes, preventing them from ever moving again. Not to mention that each of these skills either require insane amounts of Ether to use, perfect use of Ether, or both.
But that doesn’t stop me from idolizing them, and gushing over which to choose. They all sound so good. I just don’t know what to pick.
Heart Reflection would be perfect for Abraham, Wyatt, and Virgil. Those three men have issues and need to solve them before they get any worse.
Salamander’s Flesh would also be beyond useful for literally anyone. Same with Azure Bulwark and Force Of Will. The pure utility of those could make a single person famous, let alone a large group if I can train them it. Ah! It’s so hard to choose.
Enclosed Fist and Eye Of Malice are both great as well, although they are less useful so I can rule them out. Fists are only the weapon of those who either trained all their life to use them or have no other options. And Eye Of Malic specifically says that it is supremely difficult to learn unless the user has a skill from their Sigil that uses their eyes.
Comprehensive Calm is similar in its lack of usefulness. It seems like a mental defense on par with Azure Bulwark. I want to choose this one, but the side-effect is far too great. We cannot have another Man Butcher. Under no circumstances will someone like him rise because of my actions.
Excavator… hmm… this one is interesting. I discounted it at first because it is simply a way of using Ether, but upon a closer look, it is wondrous. The phenomenon of storing a skill for later is far more detailed than it lets on. You can store an entire use of something, whether it’s a skill like Bonfire’s Blaze or my Golden Eyes. It only allows you to store one, but that could be all the difference in the world.
Who wrote this? A man named Louis Fern. I’ll have to ask Isaac about him. I think it’s between this, Salamander’s Flesh, Azure Bulwark, and Force Of Will. No, I’ll take off the last one. It sounds useful, but it takes a powerful mind to use it to the fullest. Few have such a gift.
So, I walk to Isaac with all seven or so books that I grabbed, hoping against hope I can take them all.
*******************
Johnny Caldwell
I ask my question nervously and sweaty. The man in front of me is legendary, even if I did not know of him a month ago. All my life I thought the Prime was a unique existence, a once-in-a-century kind of figure. But that is simply not the case. Isaac, Waren, and even Iva with her insanity are testaments to what we can be.
They all might be dead, but in death, they reached the same peak the Prime has. Although, where they place on that peak is unknown, for the Prime is said to be powerful even amongst other 9th Sigils. There is a reason why neither of the Binary Lords, Behemoth and Leviathan, the Pygmy’s trio of High Architects and single Creator, nor the entirety of the Nahullo’s Ogema Council are willing to fight him.
The man might be a tyrant and unwilling to help the weak, but not a single man alive can argue one simple fact. He is strong. Very strong. Strong enough to leave swathes of desolation in his wake whenever he does decide to move. The Swarming Wastelander, The Executioner of Dust is a being unlike any other, and as such, this man in front of me deserves the same level of respect.
So, I wait for his answer with anxiousness as he looks at me, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. After a few seconds, though, Isaac puts his hands on his desk and pushes himself up with a harrumph before walking toward the door I didn’t even notice that closed.
“Follow me, Johnny. I am a terrible teacher, but that does not mean I cannot help you. I will show you my Archive. It is not quite as large as Warren’s, but I am proud of it.”
Isaac opens the door and motions me to walk out as I have a small panic attack. An Archive!?
I stand to attention just as fast as I would back when I was a young enlisting Hunter. Only four Archives exist in the known world, and they possess the greatest history of Ether and its techniques. No one man could ever hope to aspire to know what is found within the Athenaeum of the Pygmies, the Neyowane of the Nahullo, the Prime’s personal Archive, or the mysterious Lost Page.
My feet move with anticipation as I walk behind Isaac like a giddy child. He speaks with pride as we move through this large building made of ornate stone.
“I have spent a long time building up my Archives, but they are not just mine. They are an accumulation of the three Supremes before me who dwelled in Heights. I would love to allow you to take a large amount of knowledge to help you, but much of it must remain here. For every book taken from my Archives, that is one less to aid Her Majesty’s soldiers. I can copy books, but they are simply never the same as the original. So, I will have to limit you to just a few tomes.”
I nod in understanding and make sure to let him know I have no problem with his decision.
“That is still more than I should ask for, Isaac. I appreciate it. Truly.”
Isaac laughs at my careful words and tries to get me to loosen up by pointing out his abode made of stone.
“Lighten up, Johnny. I’m not a stickler for form or anything like that. Just the right amount of order is needed, the Devil taught us that. Too much and the prison you hold up will collapse from the strain, too little and the prison will break from inside out.”
I take his little gift of wisdom in stride as I follow him through this huge building of beautiful stone. The building's architecture is grand and imposing, with towering columns and archways. The columns are carved with intricate designs, depicting scenes of ancient legends and myths, while the archways are adorned with intricate reliefs of flowers, vines, and other natural motifs made completely of dark stone.
As I walk through the building's halls with the commonly dressed Isaac in front of me, I finally get a chance to experience its beauty. Every room seems to stretch on forever, with high vaulted ceilings and walls adorned with tapestries and paintings of presumably long-passed undead. One thing I do note, however, is that not a single picture bears Isaac’s likeness. The man must either be insecure or care more about others than himself. Merely based on his stride, I can guess which is the case.
Despite the place it is in, the building exudes a sense of calm and serenity, as if it were a place of refuge from the chaos of the outside world. Its beauty is a testament to the skill and dedication of its builders, a monument to the power of human creativity and craftsmanship even in the depths of hell.
Eventually, we reach a room with another double door blocking its entrance. A man in armor composed entirely of bones from demons stands in front of the double door and nods to Isaac.
“Welcome, sir.”
Isaac nods back at him with a small hello and walks past him, opening the door with a wave of his hand. I can feel a breeze of Ether come from his hand, but it's unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s not wind made of Ether, it’s just Ether given gaseous form outside the body. Incredible.
“Thank you, Stanley. Hope you're doing well today.”
I follow Isaac through the door and hear the door close behind us with a hello from Stanley as the guardsman comes inside with us. We reach a small cubby that has a desk with books lying atop it. Possibly Isaac’s study.
“I am doing fine today. No suicidal thoughts for three weeks. I hope you're doing just as nicely.”
The turn of the conversation went dark so fast that I feel like I was just smacked, but apparently, it’s normal down here as Isaac continues without a big reaction.
“That’s wonderful Stanley, and I’m doing great. It’s not every day you get to speak to a living man, right? Make sure no one comes in while Johnny and I are.”
Stanley stands at attention at the door, the burning flames in his eyes completely stable and calm just as he is.
“As always. Enjoy yourself, sir.”
Isaac nods to Stanley and moves forward, having me follow him past the study.
“I will.”
After Isaac speaks to Stanley, my vision opens to a library, and while it might not be the largest I’ve seen, the contents are what makes it impressive. Each book in this library either dictates a way of manipulating Ether, a general skill that one can use, or a path through the Sigils with great detail.
Most things like this are heavily guarded and kept out of sight. Only the Prime and the other two strongest Pillars, Maddox and Ed, have access to the Prime's Personal Archives. Only the Creator, Architects, and their chosen Weavers can access the Athenaeum. Only the Ogema Council can enter Neyowane.
Even when it comes to the individual, few are willing to teach their skills to others without a barter of a skill to themselves. For a skill to be given without a skill in exchange, large sums of money must be passed between hands for even a mediocre skill.
I look at Isaac and just have to ask for permission as I simply cannot believe he is giving me access to this.
“Is it really fine if I browse and take something?”
Isaac nods to me with a smile, but he does give me some kind of limit.
“Yes. Take whatever interests you and bring it all to me when you're done. I’ll judge what you have, and tell you what you can take and what you have to leave. Some things are more important than others, after all. The thoughts left behind by a previous Supreme will mean much more than what a Brave was willing to share before their passing.”
I nod with understanding and walk toward the bookshelves full of written power. My feet echo through the quiet Archive as I step up to the nearest bookshelf and start reading the names. Nothing seems to be ordered as they are placed here and there with no sense of direction. My fingers trail each book bound in… human... no, demon skin that draws my attention.
Handbook of Shade, Bloody Compendium, Elemental Wardrobe, Dreamwalker’s Guide To Dreams, Grimoire Of Souls, Almanac Of Ether, Artifactual Catalone, Codex Of Shape, Encyclopedia Of Phenomena In The Mind, and the Journal Of Timesplicing are just the most interesting that take my eyes from the rest.
So many books draw my attention and sound incredible, but I can only choose a few and even their content matters. There are only about six total bookshelves, however, so I can likely come back if I need to. One of the first ten I read, however, is an instant take. The Journal Of Timesplicing. The name alone warrants investigation.
The book is so old its binding is falling apart and I can see the pages from its place on the shelf. I gingerly take it and open to the first page, reading the opening and the author's name.
Remington Shaw
Journal Of Timesplicing
This journal covers my experiences with time, how to manipulate it, and my way of forming Ether into skills. I am only a blooming Angel at the 7th Sigil, so I’m sure my experiences are shallow compared to some of the monsters in the Wilds. Even then, I do hope my knowledge may help some future man who walks the same path as I. For time is fickle, and even if we twist it, we will never get back what we take. Lost time is lost forever.
I close the book and put it under my arm. Definitely a keeper. If I can learn more or better ways to use my eyes, then this could make a massive shift in my power. Remington Shaw, huh? Thank you for your wisdom.
I keep walking, reading more and more on another bookshelf, taking note of any that spark interest, but I only take note for now as I am limited to some unknown measure.
Shadowfiend Chronicles, Inheritance Of Stone, Enclosed Fists, Seer’s Sight, Handbook Of That Which Is Unknown, Tome Of Bounds, Luminous Libram, Frostbite’s Maw, Lycan’s Lythone, Burning Blazes, Serpent’s Tongue, Celestial Lunge, and the Mind’s Eye are some more that draw my attention.
So many sound incredible, and I am only able to read the opening on a few before moving on because of the sheer volume. But this bookshelf bears fruit in Enclosed Fists.
Eleanor Granger
Enclosed Fists
I am told these first pages must be short and describe what will be later in the book, but the art of combat is far too diverse to be put into a single book let alone one page. I, Eleanor, the second Supreme of Heights, will in these pages, describe what I have learned about fighting. From guns to swords, I hope to enlighten any who seek to learn how to fight, but it all begins and ends with a closed fist.
I put this book under my arm to join the Journal Of Timesplicing. A book of combat is exactly what we need. So many of my followers never experienced formal training, and those who did receive the training did not receive training good enough to make them experienced fighters. Not all can be like Wyatt with instincts as sharp as a cougar. But I have faith that even this will help him, any blade can be sharpened, after all.
From there, I keep moving, reading another bookshelf and taking note of what interests me deeply.
Chthonic Conjurations, Dark Divinens, Daemonicon, Alchemist’s Almanac About All, Darkness Within, Astral Projection, Surging Storms, Enigma, Nexus Of Blood, Chronicler Of Ether.
I finish this bookshelf by grabbing two books out of interest, first the Daemonicon from its pure oddity and the Alchemist’s Almanac About All for the potential it might have.
Flossie Hanley
Daemonicon
Demons are creatures too, and that means they must use skills with their Ether to perform their feats of power. Within this book are those which I have learned from many years of fighting them. Little is compatible with the human body without negative effects, but some might find some of the techniques within this uniquely suited for them just as I have.
The next book, the one about alchemy seems to be written by a man on the verge of madness, and if he was down here when he wrote it, which he probably was, the man likely was already insane. The words are scribbled so tightly and small that twice as much can fit on a page.
Hubert Franklin
Alchemist’s Almanac About All (AAAA) or (4A) or (*A*) or (aaaa) or (4a) (A’s works too)
The secrets of alchemy are too great for the common man to comprehend. It is not simply a matter of turning lead into gold, but rather a path to ascension. The transmutation of matter is merely a side effect of our true goal: to transform ourselves and transcend the limitations of the flesh. The great work demands sacrifice, both physical and mental, but the rewards are beyond measure. The whispers of the ancients guide me in my experiments, and through my experiments, I have touched the edges of divinity and glimpsed the forbidden knowledge of the cosmos. I am a visionary, a pioneer of the art, and I will not be deterred by the ignorant opinions of the masses. Those who scoff at our art are blind to the potential that lies within each of us, waiting to be unlocked. The alchemist is a madman, yes, but in a world so small-minded and mundane, who wouldn't be?
My work will continue, and one day, I will achieve the impossible, transcending the boundaries of mere humanity to become something greater. For now, however, I will do as Eleanor says, and I will impart my knowledge to you, the feebleminded. May you grasp whatever you can from my genius.
I close the book and add it to the list. I can see a small similarity between Earl and this Hubert. They are so confident in what they create with their minds that none can shake them. I respect it and will bring it to Earl. Hopefully, his ability to create miracles with nothing but the scrap in a town will improve. From the pride of the author, I figure what lies within must be special.
The next stop is the fourth bookshelf, and sadly, this whole bookshelf includes specific paths to power. The highly specific guidance is only useful to those who have the same Sigils or who want to walk the same path. And because of the breadth of Sigils and combinations, none of these are likely to be useful. I do still glance at them just in case one might fit.
Shadow And Ember, Otherworldly Steps, Starlit Eyes, Bloodbound Hands, Veiled Faces, Shifting Sands, Mooncrusted Arms, Crystalline Key, and Electric Dreams are the ones most relevant, but even then they are off. None fit anyone I know exactly, although, Shadow And Ember could possibly be useful for Virgil and Bonfire if they read it together.
But, I don’t take it, and move on to the next to bookshelves nestled into a corner. As I get close I notice that these two bookshelves are labeled and only partially full. The left and right are named Dzil Of Mind and Dzil Of Body.
My brain stutters as it tries to comprehend what I’m seeing. Dzils?! Dzils!!! I kneel and read the names of the legendary skills placed within these shelves. Only eight in total are here, but that doesn’t matter. I HAVE to leave with one. Even if it’s the only thing I leave with. Wait, no that’s irresponsible. Enclosed Fists is probably worth one of these for my purpose at least, even if it might not be the same price to Isaac.
Salamander’s Flesh, Force Of Will, Enclosed Fist, Eye Of Malice, Azure Bulwark, Excavator, Heart Reflection, and Comprehensive Calm are the eight skills that meet my eye. I can’t help but look at all of them to get their general traits.
Salamander’s Flesh is for regeneration, allowing one to regrow even lost limbs with enough time. Force Of Will gives one the ability to move objects, beasts, and even people with their minds. Enclosed Fist by Eleanor Granger is a focused version of the other book. It is all about a single punch, not a whole compendium of combat. Eye Of Malice temporarily paralyzes the target of the user that they are looking at. Azure Bulwark bestows the body of the user with the durability of sapphire. Excavator is a unique way of channeling Ether that allows one to store skills for later to be used instantaneously. Heart Reflection is a way of performing introspection and forcibly making yourself sane by fighting your inner demons. And finally, Comprehensive Calm makes one immune to all mental influences and removes all emotions.
Each skill is marked with over a dozen warnings of how not to use it, those who should never attempt to learn it, and the dangers even if used perfectly. Like Comprehensive Calm, if used too much will simply remove the emotions from someone entirely while something like Eye Of Malice can paralyze the eyes, preventing them from ever moving again. Not to mention that each of these skills either require insane amounts of Ether to use, perfect use of Ether, or both.
But that doesn’t stop me from idolizing them, and gushing over which to choose. They all sound so good. I just don’t know what to pick.
Heart Reflection would be perfect for Abraham, Wyatt, and Virgil. Those three men have issues and need to solve them before they get any worse.
Salamander’s Flesh would also be beyond useful for literally anyone. Same with Azure Bulwark and Force Of Will. The pure utility of those could make a single person famous, let alone a large group if I can train them it. Ah! It’s so hard to choose.
Enclosed Fist and Eye Of Malice are both great as well, although they are less useful so I can rule them out. Fists are only the weapon of those who either trained all their life to use them or have no other options. And Eye Of Malic specifically says that it is supremely difficult to learn unless the user has a skill from their Sigil that uses their eyes.
Comprehensive Calm is similar in its lack of usefulness. It seems like a mental defense on par with Azure Bulwark. I want to choose this one, but the side-effect is far too great. We cannot have another Man Butcher. Under no circumstances will someone like him rise because of my actions.
Excavator… hmm… this one is interesting. I discounted it at first because it is simply a way of using Ether, but upon a closer look, it is wondrous. The phenomenon of storing a skill for later is far more detailed than it lets on. You can store an entire use of something, whether it’s a skill like Bonfire’s Blaze or my Golden Eyes. It only allows you to store one, but that could be all the difference in the world.
Who wrote this? A man named Louis Fern. I’ll have to ask Isaac about him. I think it’s between this, Salamander’s Flesh, Azure Bulwark, and Force Of Will. No, I’ll take off the last one. It sounds useful, but it takes a powerful mind to use it to the fullest. Few have such a gift.
So, I walk to Isaac with all seven or so books that I grabbed, hoping against hope I can take them all.
